Zanna let the Fox walk, quietly moving through the facility, tapping away on her datapad. She didn't trust the fox, keeping one guard between her and Talon. Someone from Nar Shadda was probably a thief, and she didn't want any prisoners with light fingers around her. Will have to press about the human girl and Nar Shadda, but carefully. It seems to be a touchy subject. Once Sish and Nimm get their hands on them, it'll be easier to talk about things, and hopefully get them to open up. She saved her information on the fox and put away the data pad, looking up as the fox was put back into the cells. The human girl with the missing hand was just coming out, her eyes going wide at the sight Xid was in. While she rushed over to the boy, with the fox following, Zanna pointed at the Echani boy. He would do.
"You. Come with us, quietly. Do not cause trouble."
Nazca
After her swiftly being beaten down by the lizard, and they took away Xid and Talon regardless, Nazca went to her cell room. There wasn't anything else to do, and she wasn't going to give the Sith the pleasure of seeing her seethe in the main area. She had no doubt that they were still watching her, but she wouldn't have them seeing her get angry in the main area. She had some kind of dignity. Sitting in her cot she muttered curses under her breath and stared at the wall. Why was she so weak? She couldn't save her family. She couldn't stop her urchin gang from falling apart. She couldn't stop the Hutts from killing all of her friends. She couldn't even stop the Sith from taking all that they wanted from the library. She was weak and these fuckers keeping her and her friends here knew it. She'd have to do something about it. But not on their terms. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten to her.
Her head lifted as she heard the doors opening, and someone walking back in. Walking out, curious to see who was in. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight Xid was in. Burned, broken, and lacerated. That fucking lizard had done quite the number on him. She didn't even notice the others coming back in, hurrying to his side. Nazca turned him over, getting a look at his injures, hissing in frustration. "Does anyone here know how to do Force Healing? She asked to the room at large, ignoring the armed troopers and Red Sith around them.
Species: Humanoid fish people with primitive gills allowing them to breathe under water for up to 10 hours, webbing in their hands and toes to swim better, able to dive to depths of 130ft (40m), and have a clear, third, eyelid that allows them to see underwater. 'Cethosi tears' are often used to describe fake tears, as they get rid of salt build up via it leaking out of their eyes with water.
Population: 25 Million
Culture: Cethosi culture, unsurprisingly, is tied to the ocean. From it their demi-gods were born, on it they expanded and united the Cethosi tribe, and it gives them life and sustenance daily. They have a deep respect for the ocean, and go to great lengths to ensure that it is respected as well. The Mother gave us life, but she is a force of nature that will never be tamed, never forget that.
Every Cethosi is first and foremost a sailor and a fisherman, and every single one of them is a powerful swimmer.
The Cethosi honor code is fairly simple, with every man's word being his bond. If a Cethosi gives you their word, they will hold to it until it complete or they are dead. If it becomes known that someone is an oath-breaker, they will be shunned by the community at large, until they are forced to leave. Most leave the islands entirely, as any ship they take to another island will spread the word of how untrustworthy they are to wherever they land.
Cethosi practice exo-cannibalism, believing that if they eat their enemies they will gain their enemies strength. In war, to prevent vicious last stands that will result in more casualties than necessary, Cethosi will offer the enemy the chance to surrender. Any who do will not be consumed later. Everyone who fights and dies against them is fair game.
Cethosi believe that when someone dies, their power is spread throughout their family. Being descended from Demi-gods, every Cethosi thus has part of divinity in them, no matter how minuscule. After someone has died, their family thanks them for the power they are leaving. They are then given back to the ocean, to nourish that which has nourished them their whole lives.
History: Descended from many Demi-Gods of the ocean, whose final decree was that no impure would set foot on their holy islands, the people of Cethos have always preferred to isolate themselves from the rest of the world. Even during the unification of the islands in the years 1650-1660, Cethos kept outsiders as much out of their islands as they could, even going so far as to execute those they found twice. Up until 1880, the islands kept barely any contact with the outside world. Their sacred decrees were everything, and they would not break it. When the year 1880 finally arrived, the Cethosi Civil War broke out and ravaged the islands for twenty years.
An officer of the Cethosi Navy, Gharn Lashk, had become the leader of a faction pushing for Cethos to open its borders and to increase contact with the outside world. Cethos, he argued, was falling behind in the arms race of the world and it would only be a matter of time before a stronger nation came and conquered them. He had seen the technology Etresna possessed, the armies of the nations that were only a short sail away, and new that his beloved Cethos would not survive a war with any of them.
His warnings were ignored, and he kept pushing. He kept pushing for their borders to open, for trade to be allowed, for them to become modernized quickly before someone took advantage of their weakness. After being stopped time and time again, stopped by his superiors and his king, Gharn took matters into his own hands. He had amassed a strong following, especially among the peasantry of the islands, and he could seize control. Gharn attempted to assassinate his king and the royal family. The attempt failed, and Gharn barely escaped with a handful of his followers. He vowed to return, and finish what he had started. The Cethosi Civil War had begun.
What would follow was twenty years of vicious naval battles, bloody beach assaults, and the massive ramp up of modernization and defensive fortifications on the islands. Ships and guns became more and more modern as both sides bought from outsiders, islands became entrenched on all sides awaiting the next assault. Gharn got all that he wanted and more. He only had to bring half of the islands under his control to complete his dream. He couldn't afford to let them destroy each other any longer. He needed to end the war quickly, so he reached out to the outside world. Specifically he reached out to Etresna, and made their alliance stronger. In return for Cethos' naval aid and keeping some of the islands they take, Etresna will help him win this civil war. Etresna fleets and military soon deployed in aid of Gharn's rebellion, and their aid proved invaluable in winning Gharn the war.
As Etresnamaden and Cethosi Rebels stormed the palace of the main island, the royal family and their last loyal troops barricaded themselves in the palance. It was a magnificent structure, made of ebony wood, that had been apart of Cethos history for hundreds of years. It was said to have been a gift from the Demi-gods, before they died. Gharn gave them one chance to surrender, to join him. They refused. Gharn set fire to the entire palace with everyone inside. As the Royal family burned alive, the flames of the old ways flooding the skies with black smoke, Gharn was crowned new king of Cethos.
Ten years have passed since then. Gharn's reconstruction of the military and its fortifications on all the islands, in addition to Cethos acquiring two client states, has left the economy perilously weak. If not for its tight alliance with Etresna, Cethos would have no doubt been stuck with its devastated army and navy. The economy has slowly been built back up, exports previously kept within Cethosi borders being shipped out to other nations. With their navy strong, their army dug in, and their alliances sealed, Cethos stands ready for whatever this new era brings.
Territory Claims: All of the pink islands off the coast of Etresna.
Economy: The Cethosi economy is perilously weak. After the Civil War an the military rebuilding, the economy had no trade beyond Etresna to fall back on. While that was enough to prevent complete economic collapse, Cethos simply doesn't have the funding to increase and improve many things. With the recent discovery of oil on and off their main islands, the outlook is better. As trade opens and things previously kept from the world are sent out, their economic weakness might change. As of now, Cethos is tightly tied to Etresna for economic support.
Technology: While by no stretch of the imagination a leader of the pack in the technology arms race, Cethos has, with the help of their allies Etresna, kept themselves effectively modern.
Army: The Islands Defense Force, ISF, is a small and purely defensive branch of the military. Numbering only 125,000 in total, the ISF is spread out across the island holdings of Cethos, entrenched in the fortifications built during the Cethosi Civil War, and repaired to modern specifications in the past ten years. Every island has some form of fortification, the smallest having pitfall trenches, barbed wire, and machine gun bunkers, the largest having coastal artillery emplacements, sea mines (not deployed), barbed wire, pit falls, machine gun nests, etc. The vast majority of active duty soldiers being veterans of the Civil War, the ISF stands ready and able to repel any possible invasion of the islands.
Navy: With 500 ships, 22 of which are Dreadnoughts, and 12 submarines the Cethosi Navy is one of the largest navy on the seas of Narrev, and Cethos goes to great lengths to maintain their naval supremacy. The Navy serves as Cethos' only military influence outside of their home islands, and as such is a massive force compared to the army. The Marine Corps alone contains 200,000 active duty members and another 150,000 on reserve. These active members are spread across the navy ready to form a beachhead for allies, or help defend. Their effectiveness is limited by their complete lack of artillery and the fact that even to bring a quarter of their forces to bear would require risking a quarter of their fleet.
Air Force: With no money to fund this innovative technology, Cethos has no airforce to speak of.
Rolls:
7 - Territory - Your nation is somewhat small, with room for perhaps a city or two and some farmland. 13 - Tech - Your nation is decently modern, with an effective grasp of technology. It is by no means a trend setter, but it stays up. 7 - Army Size - Your army is relatively small, but is maintained year-round. 5 - Economy - Your economy is weak, and is teetering on a recession. 14 - Production - Your nation is somewhat majority industrial, with decent resource exploitation. 20 - Navy Size - Your nation rules the waves. Your merchant fleet is the best out there and your matchless navy seeps with tradition. 1 - Airforce Size - You have no air force. 20 - Mobilization Ability - It takes a week to mobilize.
Client states
Population: 10 million
Army size: 60,000
Navy: N/A
Overview: A mess of snarling tribes and contentious members, Hyaen has always been a divided nation. Until Cethos arrived and forcibly united them, and continues serving as a peacekeeper and settler of disputes, the tribes had separated themselves into various city states, to divided to stop the slave raids of Redcliff. Once Cethos arrived, the tribes acquiesced to the greater Cethosi strength one by one, until Cethos had all of their loyalty. They were allowed to keep their autonomy, but with Cethos keeping a watchful eye on them.
5 - Territory - 5 Provinces 3 - Political Stability - This nation is doing alright. 6 - Nationalism - This nation is ashamed of its culture and is completely subservient to your nation.
Population: 6 million
Army: 40,000
Navy: N/A
Overview: Natives to Shrask, the Slaugs are a largely isolationist nation. They would much prefer to be left alone, even from each other, minding their own business. Alas, the ways of the world prevented that, and when Cethos arrived offering their navy in return for Shrask's allegiance, they couldn't refuse. Still, Cethos maintains a very hands off policy towards them, not wanting to anger them.
5 - Territory - 5 Provinces 5 - Political Stability - This nation is peaceful and stable. 3 - Nationalism - This nation is somewhat nationalist, and is fiercely independent.
-2x human Speed -Mandate's Strength -Mandate's Durability.
Freya and Ben stared, drawn from their quiet argument by the sounds of metal hitting the ground, at the canisters as they landed for half a second. Then Freya yelled, "Smoke Grenades!" and she and her brother leapt over the meat counter, laying prone to keep themselves covered behind it, as the smoke filled the grocery store and the sounds of gunfire and screaming soon followed. "Who are these people? Freya groaned, reaching for her pistol. Judging from the sounds of the gunshots, it was high caliber rifles. She wasn't properly equipped to deal with this situation in general, much less whoever these assholes were that had decided to assault the store. Ben shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care. They want to kill us, so now we have to kill them. How much punishment can I take with this thing? He tapped one of the orbs in his left palm, the same color as Mandate's skin.
"An insane amount. Unless they have some sort of super powered weapon that hits like a nuke, you should be fine." "Any chance of supers? Freya thought for a moment, mind racing a mile a minute. This she could deal with. Guns and bullets were familiar, where magic and spells were not. "Doubt it, but I can't be sure. To much smoke to pick them out, and if they were any degree of smart the supers would hang back. Can't be a lot of them, if any, though. Too many sneak tactics and guns for that. Ben nodded, tightening and relaxing his fists. "Alright then. Wish me luck. Stay down." He stood up, making ready to hop over the counter, when Freya grabbed his ankle. "Could you grab me one of their guns? This," she shook her pistol, "isn't going to cut it. Ben nodded, winking at her as he hopped over the counter.
It was smoke and chaos. Shapes were running to and fro, the screaming civilians, and he couldn't see anything through the smoke. Well, I guess I'll start walking till I hit someone with a gun. Ben headed into the smoke, pushing civilians aside as they ran into him. He scanned through the thick smoke, looking for something that would indicate an attacker. He spotted a figure in the smoke, standing still, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. That alone was enough to make Ben certain they were one of the people he was looking for. A gun going off in front of him and bullet hitting his chest confirmed it.
Ben quickly closed the distance, looking down at the man in front of him. As always, he looked the person trying to kill him in the eyes, attempting to understand a bit of why. Normally he saw fear at this point. Maybe some anger, a little bit of surprise, but there was always fear. Fear because the person they had just shot was not only still standing, but was very close to them. He saw none of that in this man's eyes. Only hatred, burning bright and filled with fire. The hatred of a man who has lost everything, and was seeing the cause right in front of him. It caught Ben by surprise. These weren't thugs, or even hired mercenaries. These people had some sort of stake in whatever the hell Freya had dragged him into, and that was a problem. But one to be dealt with later. "You know, smoke won't save you. Werewolves have a really good sense of smell. Even the worst books on the subject cover that."
The man didn't reply to Ben's casual observation, instead backpedaling as he fired two more rounds into the giant's chest. Ben darted a hand forward and yanked the gun free, throwing it behind him. In another instant, he was behind the man, cutting off any retreat. Ben's fist darted out, to fast to be blocked by a normal human, aimed squarely for his opponent's nose. Two unexpected things happened, at almost the exact same time. Ben's fist made contact with the man's face, and then went through his face in a splattering of gore. Less than a second afterwards, Ben was thrown backwards by this massive force, going through the store and through its concrete front wall in seconds. "HOLY SHIT!!
From the meat counter, he heard his sister shout out, "Language!"
Instinctively, Ben kicked his feet down, desperate to get any form of purchase and to stop his uncontrolled 'flight'. His feet hit the ground and then dug into it, creating deep furrows as it dragged him to a stop. Ben caught his breath, his heart racing from the surprise, and stared at his bloody hand. "Note to self: Test out strength and blowback limits of this new strength.". Becoming aware of his surroundings again, he looked up at the smell of burning rubber. He was in the middle of the parking lot, two more men with guns staring at him from the front door. Someone had set fire to a car, more than one. It was coming from where they had... "Oh no." He sprinted forward and was at the vehicles in seconds, but it was far to late. The Dov was burning down, and there was nothing anyone could do to save it.
Ben felt his fists clenching, distantly. He felt disconnected, staring at the burning wreckage. That van had been with them since their new lives had begun. It had been his sister's pride and joy. She had been so proud when she had brought the junker to him, babbling about what deal she had gotten on it and how many uses it had. It was her first foray into making and closing deals. More importantly, it was their's. Their first item they actually owned themselves, their first home without that bastard to run tests on them. Their first safe place they could call their own. It meant so much to her. And they had burned it. Like it was nothing.. Just like he would have.
Ben looked over at the two front door guards. They were lifting their guns, speaking quickly into their mics. Presumably to alert their commanding officer of the situation, and to get back up. Not that it would matter. They'd be dead very soon. He was over there in a heartbeat, crouching down and uppercutting one of the door guards. Like before, the man's jaw and face disintegrated into a shower of gore. However, this time the blowback went straight down, and Ben caught it on his knees and only sank into the ground, cracking the asphalt all around him.
He grabbed the other guard by the arm as the man tried to retreat, taking the gun with his free hand, and threw the man into store. Unlike Ben he didn't have super durability. He smashed against the thick concrete and fell down in pile of broken bones and blood. Ben sighed, hefting the gun as he quickly searched the bodies for ammunition. He'd have to tell Freya about the Dov. It'd break her heart to hear what had been done to it. Later. He promised himself, hopping through the hole he had made on his way out of the store. When we're not in a life or death fight.
Enjoy what Rulanah has become, duderinos! I felt the Catholic Retort was appropriate in response to Chiral Phi actually putting in the effort Sularn hadn't so far in IC.
I forget who called him that, but every nickname except for ‘The giggling holocaust’ and ‘The sword with no hilt’ came from other IC characters that weren’t my own.
P.S. I had the dogma in mind before everyone started calling Vestec literally the devil in OOC, so mnyeh
Yeah, I had this huge thing planned! I guess I was a bit too ambitious about it months back when I planned it out. I just wanted to do Brown justice. I'll finish the plotline and then throw Astie back into the mess that is Galbar! No one has seen her in what must have been a few decades at least
Origin: Val comes from a tribe on the very Edge of the Known World. They were the farthest humans to have ever gone out into the jungle, as her father and the other Elders would readily and proudly inform her, and as a result often fought against the beasts of the jungle. The resources they had were sparse, and their survival was almost constantly under threat. Despite the dangers and the struggle, none of the tribe would have traded it away. They had seen the rest of the 'civilized' world, with the expeditions going into the jungle for riches and power being an almost annual occurrence, and wanted nothing to do with their greed, hatred, and easy blood lust.
As a result of their isolation, Val's tribe never experienced any of the taboo that the rest of the world possessed. Gods, Witches, and Fey were far away from them. Survival was more important than whatever warnings and decrees the outsiders made. Her tribe turned to sorcery as a means for survival, actively encouraging tribe members who deemed themselves strong enough to survive the initiation to go through it. At the time of Val's initiation, there were already two sorcerers among the tribe.
Val's family knew, from birth they claimed, that she was destined to be one of the tribe's sorcerers. Her gift for creation, the way she could bend beasts of the jungle to her will, all were signs that she was destined for greatness, for great power. They encouraged her to go through the initiation, to lead the tribe into a golden age. Val believed them. She believed that she was destined for great power, to increase the tribe's territory and to begin to subjugate the beasts to the tribe's will. As soon as she could, she underwent the initiation.
When she awoke from the ritual, she awoke to her tribe slaughtered and her village in ruins. A witch hunt had fallen upon her tribe, and the only thing that had spared her from their fate was the Unclean Spirit keeping her until the Witches had left, leaving her appearing dead.
A desire for bloody justice burns in her heart now. She hears a call, a whisper on the back of her mind, pulling her towards lands she had never even seen on a map, much less gone to. The whisper promises her the power she needs, the means to extract justice from her enemies and ensure that nothing like that happens in this broken world again.
Val heeds the call, heading through a great forest and entering a massive city, a marvel of engineering Val had never seen before, its stone walls standing proud and immovable, defiant of the crusade on its borders. Val knows that they will fall, torn asunder by the so called Angel. She has seen what Quoliel has done to the Great Hunt Legion, and it terrifies her to her core.
Still the voice whispers, drawing her into the doomed city. She will heed the voice, and she will claim justice.
Appearance: Val stands at 5ft 8in, hard and lean from years of surviving on the Edge. Having gone into softer lands, she has gained a layer of fat, accentuating her curves and hiding the strength she possesses. Her skin is covered in light tattoos, denoting her achievements and victories as a beast hunter. Her raven hair is shaved on the sides and back, preventing it from being caught on a branch or a beast's claws. Metal studs, signs of her coming of age in the tribe, adorn her skull. There is a scar on the base of her skull, a twisted circle where a spike went through. Her eyes are a solid black, a side effect of the unclean spirit's spike entering her skull.
Skills and Flaws
Blessed Hands: Val is a creator, a master craftsman. She can build something from any resource you give her and fix anything. All she needs is time and resources (be the magical or mundane).
Hunter of Beasts: Death is a close and well known companion when you live on the Edge of the Known World. Val has hunted and killed for her very survival since a young age. She is skilled at the hunt, tracking prey and bringing them down with her bow and knife.
Tamer of Beasts: Val has always been skilled, even before her magic, at taking beasts and other animals and bending them to her will. Obviously the simpler a beast is the less time and effort it would take, but she has used broken Beasts to her advantage and aid.
Lost In A Land of Stone and Steel Val isn't comfortable in the 'civilized' lands. She's never had to deal with liars and schemers. She's never had to fight other humans. She's never seen so much resources and populations. She's gullible, unskilled at the fighting humans, and easily overawed.
Hooks:
The Rose Lich and her followers killed her tribe. Her blood sings for justice.
Val seeks to unite the surviving nations, seeing them as a fractured tribe. She will use her powers to unite them into one tribe, use their powers to break the Circle of Light, and then push back the Beasts at the Edge of the World.
The Exile comes from Heaven. What does that look like?
SOUL - WHAT YOU ARE BENEATH THE SKIN
Initiation: Val became a sorcerer in the same way all her tribe's sorcerers came to be. She visited the clearing of an Unclean spirit that had been with the tribe for as long as anyone could remember, and let it pierce her with a ritual spike. If she survives the initiation, she is allowed to return to the tribe. No one knows what happens to those who do not survive the initiation, only that the unclean spirit claims them for its own devices. Val survived, but rather than waking up, she was kept unconscious, seemingly dead. When she demanded the unclean spirit release her, she only received a harsh laugh in return. "I'm saving you, foolish girl. A Witch Hunt has come, decreed by the God Eater, and your time is not now." Only after the Witches had left was she released, left to sort through the ruins and devastation on her own.
Weirds
Soulsmith: Val can make weapons and items from the souls of those who die around her. When someone dies around her, their soul is almost immediately drawn into Val, waiting to be used in the creation of some item. When using these souls, the weapons or objects Val creates from them take on traits based on whomever the soul was while living. If Val makes an axe out of the soul of a strong man with a quick temper, for example, the axe will increase the user's strength and have an ability related to fire. If Val makes a breastplate out of the soul of a healer who had been on the forefront of war for years and couldn't be shaken by anything, the wearer will feel an aura of calm no matter what is going on around them and their wounds will be healed by the breastplate.
Crafter's Hands: Val can conjure up to a dozen magical hands, black as the night sky. She usually keeps a couple active, hiding in her shadow or against her body. They can be pointed and sharpened into spikes, flung at her enemies as if they were shot out of a longbow with a 90lb draw weight. They can interlock together, forming a shield to protect Val. When Val isn't actively controlling them, they move about, subconsciously influenced by her. Some will fiddle with various items, others begin making small things, so on so forth. They each posses the strength one of her hands (with her arm and shoulder behind it) would.
The Weak Bend To The Strong: Val can impose her will upon the minds of others, forcing them to obey her. This obviously depends on who she's attempting to dominate. She has difficulties with priests, witches, and mortals of a strong mind, is only able to do so with Sorcerers and Paladins if they're extremely weakened, and isn't stupid enough to try Angels.
BLOOD AND BONE - THE NEPHILIM
Nephilim: Enthralling Tyrant
Sobriquets: Val affectionately calls it Snail.
Concept: Patient and Scheming, determined to rule all.
Form: Sealed in stony skin and possessing a stony shell, Snail has to force its 8 tentacles free from its prison and was force to use it's pincers to make enough of a crevice to see out of. Its crab legs allow it to move surprisingly fast, while the tentacles possess an unexpected strength, able to crush stone and tear down buildings with ease. When threatened with no way of escape, Snail can retreat into the stone around its body, hiding its tentacles in its body and its vulnerable eyes and face in the shell atop its head.
Abominations
Stream of Power: Snail can augment and increase the powers of whoever is piloting it, allowing them to do things they would not normally be able to do through it. It can also direct that towards other Nephilim, increasing their powers.
Creator: Snail can spawn creatures from the cysts on its body, ranging from undead monsters to creatures similar to beasts. It can spawn larger monsters, akin to Behemoths, by combining all the cysts into one large one. This all takes time, obviously.
Call of The Deep: Snail can release a call, seducing and enticing whoever hears it to submit to its will and obey. Armies can be converted to slaves without a single tentacle being lifted.
Weak Fighter Snail is not a direct fighter. It uses others to fight and die for it.
>Is reminded of all the pages he needs to write >Checks list of things Vestec has made that need to be written >Nope.jpg >Lies to self and says he'll do it later.
I wish only the best for all of you, and I hope you can forgive me.
First off, congrats on the art student thing!
Second, there's nothing to forgive dude. This RP has always been slow and steady with various members of us fading quietly into the background as RL takes us. Vestec won't drop a moon on Alefpria or send Lif on a doomed quest. They're too well written and integrated into the lore to do that.
We'll wait for you to come back, get RL taken care of first.
Member
Auz
Spoopy Scary
AlteredTundra
Lord Zee
