Pragia12

Paradise Lost

Virginia Sokolova, Eden Prime

This was not the first time that Ginny had slept in a barn, though it had been a long time since she had last done so. Becoming an agri-tech again had a nostalgic charm to it for the Texarkanan. The morning light streaked through the wooden walls across her face, its gentle caress rousing her awake. Rising to her feet, she'd brush straw off her coveralls, the golden chaff falling from olive drab while she stretches out her neck and arms. It was more comfortable than nights she spent under open sky, in caves or dilapidated ruins, but significantly less than her apartment in the nearby city.

Before her was the reason she was out here: the crop-skimmer needed maintenance, and the poor thing had been neglected for at least a decade. Components had rusted shut, and it had nearly fallen out of the sky last time it had taken off. Ginny had spent the last two days cleaning and replacing components, and she was close to finishing her work. Something like this could keep the entire town’s fields covered, and was worth almost as much as a spaceplane with its specialized high-efficiency airframe and solar arrays.

The owner, a human named Sarak, was a kindly man, but one who was nearing the end of his career, and had grown stubborn. She opened the barn door and looked over to the white-painted house, the smell of breakfast was reaching her already, tempting her over. What she saw immediately left her uneasy. The door was open, and one of its hinges were caved in with splintered wood.

Someone had broken in.

The ranger would go back into the barn, taking her belt off a hook and throwing it on, drawing the blaster pistol from the leather holster. The trill of the heavy revolver loaded with individual chamber-capacitors. It was a small comfort to her: as her father had once said, if she was going to shoot someone, it had better be only once. She wasn’t aware of any local trouble Sarak had, let alone something that could escalate to something like this.

By the time she reached the doorway, she could hear a chittering sound reminiscent of a ratchet wrench but much louder. The walls had holes and gouges in the side: this wasn't a home invader, this was an animal of some sort. Giant insects were not native to this region as far as she knew.

The smell of burnt bacon put Ginny into even further unease. She brushed her red-brown hair to keep her vision clear, and raised her revolver from a low ready to a trained eye-level. When she peaked her head around the corner into the kitchen, those steady hands faltered for a moment.

Sarak was on the ground in the kitchen, still wearing his white morning robe with little bee designs on it. That robe was tinged pink, doing its best to suck up the pool of blood he was in, a giant gash through his midsection leaving him almost torn in half. The thing that had rent him so loomed over him, its scythe-like mandibles digging into his flesh.

Virginia had seen Metacer drones in museums, both in holo-exhibits and in dead artifacts. They were a rare occurrence, but individual specimens were terrifying. A formicidae the size of a small horse, the poor farmer had never stood a chance. She was in danger, that creature could kill her just as easily as it had killed her host. Its antennae flicked about, and when it froze, she didn’t hesitate.

The sharp whine of a capacitor discharge heralded the head of the drone exploding into a shower of green gore, some of it sizzling onto the stovetop, some sizzling from the sudden vaporization. A good chunk of the wall behind it was blown away, scorched, and catching light. Ginny started running to the side door, stopping for a moment to look down at Sarak’s body with some regret. She couldn’t bury him, the other drones were likely already aware, the controller could be nearby, but she wasn’t about to try and hunt it down alone.

Indeed, looking out from the higher ground, she could see more in the fields and adjacent homesteads. Her heart sank and her breathing quickened as a panic began to rise, but training took over, and she ran back towards the barn. She took up her duffel and threw it into the cargo trunk of the skimmer.

Part of her was cursing herself, she could try to save another, but she had no idea who was even still alive. This was a remote corner of the planet, and there was still a chance that a warning could get out before they overrun this place. She got into the pilot’s seat, tapping the console on the dash and grabbing hold of the throttle, the thrusters roaring to life as the skimmer inches forward on a ground effect bubble.

Making itself free of its enclosure, the craft would rise into the sky a few hundred feet, and Ginny could see dozens of the Metacer scouring the fields for food. Taking a shallow breath and raising her nav, she would begin heading towards the nearest city.

---

That had been three months ago. Ginny had only wished that the government had listened, that anyone had listened before those damnable bugs had swarmed the first cities and military actions failed. She wished that she had spent more time among these people, that they could trust her expertise, but they didn’t. She was still in the same fatigues, and had that same duffel on her back.

There was only one ship left in the station, she hadn’t managed to make it onto any other, and she wasn’t about to wait for her Society pick up to find her on this station, if she could even survive long enough. No, she had already left her beacon on the station, a repeating message of what had happened. The last that any of her people would know is that she was trying to find an escape, and that the people here had indeed descended from true Terrans.

The bar had been her last bastion of solace in a world that was rapidly collapsing. Things had an eerie stability on the station. Doom would not come for some time, but hope was running low. 3822-01 was her last ticket out of here, and the best shot was her mark at this bar. Walking to the seat next to her, she’d wave the tender down and get her own glass of straight vodka, not bothering to burden the bartender at the end of Eden. “So, any plans to survive the apocalypse?” she’d ask idly of the pilot.

Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin

Nathaniel Durand

---

Nate’s head would snap to the movement of the ex-ganger, his expression softening for a brief moment at the familiar face, only for his hailing to attract the attention of yet more lurking among so much piled junk. “Samuel—” he started, before he realized they were not alone outside of the van.

His eyes flash, his vision filling with the glow of living souls and the patterns of the His creation coming into clear view. When his hand rests on that cold metal under his jacket below his armpit, it holds for a moment before lowering back to his side. This wasn’t a suit that was liable to appear, and if he was fallen, he wasn’t carrying the taint on his soul.

The templar saw the game of cards laid out before the man, almost disappointed to realize it was not one of the more popular among their kind. Tarots and arcana of even more esoteric provenance was usually the expectation. The man playing the game was almost hard for him to see, a blurred silhouette even in his divine-guided eyes, but His light pierces even the deepest shadow. He was awakened, and even as his form flickered in and out of Nate’s mind, the knight was at ease.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think these chips are going to be giving you much more than questions. I’m here for answers, not a payday.” He says smoothly.

The fourth face was much more casual, and he’d even crack a smirk “’Bout a block and a half down, and not past a security gate.” He say with a small shake of his head, turning back toward the van. “This is starting to feel like a trap. I’d suggest getting out here and stating your business.” He’d call out again to the vehicle.

Paradise Lost

Ginny Sokolova

Character Description

Name: Virginia ‘Ginny’ Sokolova
Species: Human
Sex: F
Age: 30
Role/Job: Ranger, Engineer
Appearance:
Pic

Strengths and Weaknesses

Skills:
Knowledgeable: As a veteran of Society schooling, Ginny is very technically apt in a wide array of subjects, and is very skilled with computers, electronics, and mechanisms alike. Possessing training in a wide array of sciences, she has a good theoretical and practical understanding of technology. She is also fairly cosmopolitan, knowing a good amount about customs and histories of many places, though that has had little value here.

Ranger: Her profession’s school of hard knocks has resulted in a very capable and tenacious person. While not as martially minded as a true soldier, she does possess a flexibility and experience that translates well in a fight.

Weaknesses:
Culturally Oblivious: Ginny has been laying low among the Edenites for a few months, and while she has picked up some local mannerisms, she is clearly an outsider and has little in the way of understanding of the people she finds herself among. Her technical aptitude and general curiosity has left others suspicious of her.

Background:

Backstory: Hailing from the world of Texarkana, Virginia was not destined for much, living in one of the many the rural communities that dotted the world to support the burgeoning urban centers of the world-state. She had developed a craftiness and affinity for the machines and devices used in the day-to-day work that enabled her to avoid the long hours that many suffered in the seeding and harvest seasons. Growing in the hybrid Human-Kiellar rustic culture gave her a strong sense of drive, as well as a sense of duty to her fellows.

It was only when a field technician from the Society arrived in town to work on some of the macro-harvesters that she was able to catch of glimpse of the wider world she was missing. At such a young age, she was astounded by how even the lowliest members of the esteemed Society for the Preservation of Continuity could deftly wield technology to solve problems that had exhausted dozens of the strongest workers of her hometown.

The intoxicating curiosity would result in her running away from home in the back of his motorcar, a situation that the Adept Kaltain Barshann could not abide. He returned her home, not wanting to attract the ire of his superiors and the locals. Virginia was shocked when her parents were willing to indulge her rebellion: she would be enlisted for evaluation by the Society for education, and Kaltain would assent.

Leaving her own small world, she was taken to the city of Rinnomgrad. In the academy there, she was trained harder than even the endurance of years of farm work could not prepare her for. Exhaustive studies for someone who could only barely read formally was only where it started. While she excelled in her hands-on training in working with tools, her engineering knowledge was quickly judged to be that she would not become one of the highly-sought after academics. She would be placed under the enviable station of ‘acquisitions’-treasure hunters, scouts, and rangers who would be sent to verify reports on a wide array of issues the society may have and secure federation era technology.

After over a decade of training, making new friends and building a new life for herself among the society, Ginny was released into her work. She rapidly distinguished herself as a subtle and capable agent, successfully recovering databanks and material from dangerous and complex situations. A rising star in her profession, she was a natural choice when rumors hit the halls of the Society that a colony settled from former Terrans had been found.

The once farmers daughter believed her wanderlust sated by moving among the stars she once looked up at, but when she arrived at Eden, it was a truly alien experience. The Metacer was something that she had only heard of in old files, and to see them kill a world would be amazing were it not so horrifying. Now lacking a way home, Ginny is faced with needing to make a new home.

Paradise Lost

Character App

Character Description

Name: Virginia ‘Ginny’ Sokolova
Species: Human
Sex: F
Age: 30
Role/Job: Ranger, Engineer
Appearance:
Pic

Strengths and Weaknesses

Skills:
Knowledgeable: As a veteran of Society schooling, Ginny is very technically apt in a wide array of subjects, and is very skilled with computers, electronics, and mechanisms alike. Possessing training in a wide array of sciences, she has a good theoretical and practical understanding of technology. She is also fairly cosmopolitan, knowing a good amount about customs and histories of many places, though that has had little value here.

Ranger: Her profession’s school of hard knocks has resulted in a very capable and tenacious person. While not as martially minded as a true soldier, she does possess a flexibility and experience that translates well in a fight.

Weaknesses:
Culturally Oblivious: Ginny has been laying low among the Edenites for a few months, and while she has picked up some local mannerisms, she is clearly an outsider and has little in the way of understanding of the people she finds herself among. Her technical aptitude and general curiosity has left others suspicious of her.

Background:

Backstory: Hailing from the world of Texarkana, Virginia was not destined for much, living in one of the many the rural communities that dotted the world to support the burgeoning urban centers of the world-state. She had developed a craftiness and affinity for the machines and devices used in the day-to-day work that enabled her to avoid the long hours that many suffered in the seeding and harvest seasons. Growing in the hybrid Human-Kiellar rustic culture gave her a strong sense of drive, as well as a sense of duty to her fellows.

It was only when a field technician from the Society arrived in town to work on some of the macro-harvesters that she was able to catch of glimpse of the wider world she was missing. At such a young age, she was astounded by how even the lowliest members of the esteemed Society for the Preservation of Continuity could deftly wield technology to solve problems that had exhausted dozens of the strongest workers of her hometown.

The intoxicating curiosity would result in her running away from home in the back of his motorcar, a situation that the Adept Kaltain Barshann could not abide. He returned her home, not wanting to attract the ire of his superiors and the locals. Virginia was shocked when her parents were willing to indulge her rebellion: she would be enlisted for evaluation by the Society for education, and Kaltain would assent.

Leaving her own small world, she was taken to the city of Rinnomgrad. In the academy there, she was trained harder than even the endurance of years of farm work could not prepare her for. Exhaustive studies for someone who could only barely read formally was only where it started. While she excelled in her hands-on training in working with tools, her engineering knowledge was quickly judged to be that she would not become one of the highly-sought after academics. She would be placed under the enviable station of ‘acquisitions’-treasure hunters, scouts, and rangers who would be sent to verify reports on a wide array of issues the society may have and secure federation era technology.

After over a decade of training, making new friends and building a new life for herself among the society, Ginny was released into her work. She rapidly distinguished herself as a subtle and capable agent, successfully recovering databanks and material from dangerous and complex situations. A rising star in her profession, she was a natural choice when rumors hit the halls of the Society that a colony settled from former Terrans had been found.

The once farmers daughter believed her wanderlust sated by moving among the stars she once looked up at, but when she arrived at Eden, it was a truly alien experience. The Metacer was something that she had only heard of in old files, and to see them kill a world would be amazing were it not so horrifying. Now lacking a way home, Ginny is faced with needing to make a new home.

Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin

The front seat of the Challenger was comfortable, the chassis rode low and Nate was keeping his head on a swivel as he neared the junkyard, tires kicking up dirt on the sand-strewn roads. The chip was on his dash: to most the small, subtle shift in the spade along its surface guiding him. Such a valuable chip outside a casino was a worthless thing, not that the poor-fellow soldier cared for its material worth much. The RFID wiring inside it was already scrambled something terrible, yet still its face pointed unerringly towards the growing piles of strewn vehicles and appliances, past it, towards a small but prominent tower that loomed despite its meager height.

Even so, the Templar could see more, that slight golden light behind his eyes was more than a youthful vigor or solemn wisdom. God was guiding the hand of his chosen, and Nathaniel could see plain as day that the tower was not as unassuming as the pile of junk made it seem. This was not the first time that he had found himself among the discarded things and people that clung to this yard. While he was leery of the technomancers who often called this place ‘home’ or ‘testing ground’ he knew that there may yet be something greater if he was being called here.

The woman in the seat next to him, one only he could see and hear would say simply “The hands of Man are guided by Him, and their works draw forth the Chosen.” Her voice was light, but Nathaniel could never see her face, knowing better to keep his eyes on the road. He would nod, speaking aloud to himself “Well, consider me drawn.” With a small grin. “But the Fallen too seek works to corrupt and destroy.”

He would park outside the yard, rising from the side of his vehicle with a black combat boot emerging first from his steed. He reached into his jacket pocket, thumbing along the beads of his rosary. He did not believe this place to be compromised by the Enemy, but one could never be sure in these times. He said a short prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel as he took the chip off the dash. “Defend us in battle against the wickedness and snares of the Devil…” and began walking plainly into the yard, knowing that God’s protection was with him.

He looked the part of someone who could be there, his bulky leather jacket over a white shirt and dark jeans kept pretty in the stylings of local bikers and gearheads who would not be out of place picking parts from the hulks of fallen vehicles. Of course, he was packing his collapsed MP9 in a shoulder holster under his arm, but such a thing would not be apparent if he didn’t raise his arms. The security guard was enjoying his blessed sleep anyways, no need to disturb him drifting in.

Seeing the Van now that he was in direct eyesight, he would be far more direct in his approach, not yet having seen the man he would speak “Hey, anyone there?” once he was about ten yards from the vehicle.

Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin

Nathaniel Durand, Knight Templar

“Nothing ever happens in the world that does not happen first inside human hearts.” -Archbishop Fulton Sheen

Tradition ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ A sworn Knight of the Temple of Solomon, Nathaniel is loyal to the Order first and foremost. Despite this, he has a number of contacts and relations with the Celestial Chorus, and has sympathies for the Traditions. His magick is likewise still grounded in his faith in the True God, rather than the One Godhead of the Chorus. Spheres ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ The Magicks of Forces and Life remain the foremost tools that Nathaniel wields, and his orientation towards the order of God gives him a strong command of Prime as well. In addition to this, Nathaniel's strong belief in True Faith provides strength where his skills fall short. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔	_______________________________________________ Nathaniel Ignatius Durand 32 years old Outlook: For Sir Durand, the world is God’s creation, and he has been chosen as His righteous hand to guide those who still sleep. The invocation of His word, His works, and His teachings through the most holy church grant him the panoply of magickal ability. Through Him, all things are possible, and He will smile upon the living of a life as Christ has proclaimed man ought to live. The Templar derives strength and confidence through virtue. The swearing of oaths is not merely a matter of honor and word, but a bond deeply important to affecting his Magicks to those who do not naturally see His truth. The world is ordered, and his status as a chosen awakened has conferred a self-imposed sense that he must be orderly and worthy of the responsibility he has been entrusted, by both God and the Order. His body and mind are instruments of God as much as his soul is. The order provides for his material needs, and while he may still have a sword as a badge of office, he is trained in the modern weapons of war, and the use of Holy Wonders when his order permits their use. His Avatar is a hooded woman, who speaks to him in short verse and simple gesture. He has not seen her face, but she is a muse of sorts, often giving him gentle nudges in the right direction.	Personal History ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel was, like most of his craft, born into his order, a blessed child to a pair of consors of the order. Trained in classical literature, theology, and intense physical conditioning, he was raised in a very medieval lifestyle, one that ill-prepared him for his awakening. His mentorship under a senior knight of the order was eye opening, seeing the world beyond the cloister, the world run by the misguided and faithless. This experience would drive him to take every opportunity for field work, and eventually he would be out on his own. Indeed, after years of moving material, investigating and maintaining contacts in the City of Sin, he would take up his sword in the vanquishing of evil for the first time only a few years ago. Earning his knighthood through blood, he was free to travel as he pleased, though he still had obligations to the Order. With this newfound freedom, he has gotten involved with many in the awakened community of Vegas, and has something of a folk hero status for his atypical willingness to work with those who do not share his dogmatism. Plot Hooks ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel is always looking for windmills to tilt at. While he has no oath to protect sleepers, he holds to it as a virtuous pursuit. He has taken the liberty to build up a contact network, and keep his eyes open for perspective opportunities as well as problems. He maintains a side job working as a physical trainer to keep a very light mortal footprint.

_{Affiliations
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
Knight of the Temple of Solomon
Associate of the Celestial Chorus
Character: Relationship}

♡♢ 𝚅𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙸𝚁𝙴: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙳𝙴 — 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞 ♤♧

<sup>Vincenzo sat at his desk in his study, the weak amber glow of his desk lamp giving the stacked mahogany shelves a sepia tone. Their old-timey charm was broken somewhat by the cleanliness: this room was well travelled, and the books on them were not just for show like so many others in the highlands of Las Vegas.

Shadows danced on the walls, and that desk lamp felt woefully inadequate for the openness of the room, its lone source a bold defiance of the sinister darkness pooling in the corners and edges of the room. The light’s struggle before Vince amused him, it was at his mercy, yet still it stood. It was a good distraction from his reading; ritual proceedings from centuries before even his time were dense at the best of times.

As he considered the lamp’s position, the door to the hall of his mansion was opened, letting in more unnatural light from beyond to relieve the beleaguered prey. Tim Keene stood in the doorway, his wide frame rectangular glasses and the brown eyes behind them focusing quickly through the wire frames of his own reading glasses.

He spoke quickly to pre-empt his long-time associate, ever earnest in his tone “Yes?” he regarded his greasy-haired attendant.

“Letter for you, Vince.” He held up the envelope, carrying a similar coloration to the shelves, its contents sealed in red wax. Both parties knew who it was from, and both knew what it meant.

Only the master of the house felt the need to speculate. “Bishop Krause finally decided to grace me with his words?” he says, his voice gaining a sharp sarcasm “How kind.” a thin smile growing under his thin moustache.

The ghoul was much less cavalier, carrying that even-keeled steel in the face of his master’s amusement. He would need to learn to be so forced in his unbotheredness someday, but that lesson would come in time. He entered the sanctum, looking down at Vince with a certain sense that the Ghoul was above him. A firmer hand would have risen against him for his demeanor alone, but he bore good news.

The letter felt old, its construction brittle and yellowed. The wax bore the personal seal of his once-friend and once-mentor: the bar of a not-so-long forgotten empire quartered with a cross engrailed, a billeted field, and an eagle. Vince always felt that the ornateness of the design was insulted by the monochrome color of fresh blood.

Vince drew his stiletto, flicking open the blackwood switchblade adorned with a silver cross. It was freshly sharpened, and rent the seal open, his eyes trailing back up to his far-too-imperious subordinate. “Take a seat, mister Keene.”

He sat into the leather upholstery, wearing a knowing smile all the while he sinks to eye level, the hide creaking in the silence all too loudly. Eventually he extracts the parchment from the envelope, and opens the trifold. His eyes go over the contents quickly, then all too slowly.</sup>

<sup>For the Eyes of Lord Pagani, Friend of the Night, Vincenzo

It has come to my attention that you intend to follow the traitors of your home city against the Sword of Caine, and I must plead with you to reconsider your decision. You have enjoyed over a century of good graces and fellowship from myself and countless others, and you have been honored as a neutral hand which brought ease to the most incendiary feuds.

Those you seek the protection and comradery of now will not welcome you. They do not trust us, nor would they tolerate your ambitions. Without the protection of the Amici you will be at the mercy of their predations. I do not understand why you of all people would abandon security without the promise of something greater.

I appeal to our long-standing friendship, and an understanding that transcends life and death. Do not abandon me to the ire of our fellows, and rededicate yourself to the cause.

Your Eternal Friend,
Bishop Josef Krause</sup>

<sup>Vince purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment with a short, sharp sigh. Placing the letter flat on his desk, he reopens them and regards his loyal servant, whose eyes were wandering over that portentous parchment. He could likely read faster upside down than his master could read straight.

“A shame he can only see things from his point of view.” Vince would lament, opening a drawer and drawing his own paper, not burdened by poor construction or faux-age pretense.

“He does have a point, they aren’t going to trust you, even if we expose ourselves at their mercy.” Vince’s expression evens with his companion’s words while he draws his fountain pen from its holder.

“Sometimes life is about taking risks, Tim. And they will not pass up what we can offer, if we are able to offer it in the right way.” he spoke with a confidence that he normally reserved for Order meetings. That pen would begin scrawling with a grace to its movements, a century and a half of penmanship honed.</sup>

<sup>To my Dear Friend Josef,

I am glad to hear from you, and your counsel is taken into consideration. I too value our friendship, and it is for that reason among others that I have made my decision to abandon the cause we have shared for so long. I have disappointed you in my lack of drive, and I have rarely been suited for the cutthroat work expected of me. I do not view this as a betrayal, for I have never been true in my service.

I always took great pains to distance myself from the bloodsport that I watched consume the lives of others, and take my time to enjoy my life with the wealth and relationships I have built. As I see it, the violence that surrounded me was going to eventually consume me and those I care for, including you.

So I will not be rescinding my decision, nor will I accept this as a parting of ways. We have fought and worked together for too long, and I believe that we do not need to abandon such things on the altar of ideology. You know as well as I do that I will adapt as well as I always have, I just hope that this change will not affect us.

I look forward to your reply,
Vincenzo</sup>

Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin

The Knight of the Apocalypse

“Nothing ever happens in the world that does not happen first inside human hearts.” -Archbishop Fulton Sheen

Tradition ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ A sworn Knight of of the Temple of Solomon, Nathaniel is loyal to the Order first and foremost. Despite this, he has a number of contacts and relations with the Celestial Chorus, and has sympathies for the Traditions. His magick is likewise still grounded in his faith in the True God, rather than the One Godhead of the Chorus. Spheres ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ The Magicks of Forces and Life remain the foremost tools that Nathaniel wields, and his orientation towards the order of God gives him a strong command of Prime as well. In addition to this, Nathaniel's strong belief in True Faith provides strength where his skills fall short. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔	_______________________________________________ Nathaniel Ignatius Durand 32 years old Outlook: For Sir Durand, the world is God’s creation, and he has been chosen as His righteous hand to guide those who still sleep. The invocation of His word, His works, and His teachings through the most holy church grant him the panoply of magickal ability. Through Him, all things are possible, and He will smile upon the living of a life as Christ has proclaimed man ought to live. The Templar derives strength and confidence through virtue. The swearing of oaths is not merely a matter of honor and word, but a bond deeply important to affecting his Magicks to those who do not naturally see His truth. The world is ordered, and his status as a chosen awakened has conferred a self-imposed sense that he must be orderly and worthy of the responsibility he has been entrusted, by both God and the Order. His body and mind are instruments of God as much as his soul is. The order provides for his material needs, and while he may still have a sword as a badge of office, he is trained in the modern weapons of war, and the use of Holy Wonders when his order permits their use. His Avatar is a hooded woman, who speaks to him in short verse and simple gesture. He has not seen her face, but she is a muse of sorts, often giving him gentle nudges in the right direction.	Personal History ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel was, like most of his craft, born into his order, a blessed child to a pair of consors of the order. Trained in classical literature, theology, and intense physical conditioning, he was raised in a very medieval lifestyle, one that ill-prepared him for his awakening. His mentorship under a senior knight of the order was eye opening, seeing the world beyond the cloister, the world run by the misguided and faithless. This experience would drive him to take every opportunity for field work, and eventually he would be out on his own. Indeed, after years of moving material, investigating and maintaining contacts in the City of Sin, he would take up his sword in the vanquishing of evil for the first time only a few years ago. Earning his knighthood through blood, he was free to travel as he pleased, though he still had obligations to the Order. With this newfound freedom, he has gotten involved with many in the awakened community of Vegas, and has something of a folk hero status for his atypical willingness to work with those who do not share his dogmatism. Plot Hooks ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel is always looking for windmills to tilt at. While he has no oath to protect sleepers, he holds to it as a virtuous pursuit. He has taken the liberty to build up a contact network, and keep his eyes open for perspective opportunities as well as problems. He maintains a side job working as a physical trainer to keep a very light mortal footprint.

_{Affiliations
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
Knight of the Temple of Solomon
Associate of the Celestial Chorus
Character: Relationship}

♡♢ 𝚅𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙸𝚁𝙴: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙳𝙴 — 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞 ♤♧

<sup>╔══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══ 𝒥 𝒥 𝒥 ═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩══╗

╚══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══ 𝒥 𝒥 𝒥 ═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩═══⬩══╝</sup>

^{[Art: @ccornet.]}

Character Sheet 29/Jun/2025

Mage The Ascension: Illusion and Reality in the City of Sin

Very strong interest, will be glad to bring the Song to this City of Sin.