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When we seek to destroy others we often hurt ourselves, because it is the self that wants to be destroyed

When I grow up, I wanna be Tom Waits.

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Just tagging you guys to see if you are still with us. Since I haven't heard anything in a while!

@HeySeuss@Lasrever@Mercenary Lord
Good job on the intro posts so far everybody! Just wanna see about the other two before I move things along, but I already have the draft for the next plot post all written up and ready to finalize. So once I got conformation for them either way, we will be moving right along!
Alright update!

Got my own GMNPC sheets up. They are in two slightly different styles and if you are still working on your sheet feel free to look at them to get some inspiration!

Now onto reviews. The first batch of reviews should come up sometime tomorrow from the look of things!
Does the Ukanuq mentality and maturity show a growth at the same rate as their physiological age? For example, a Ukanuq of 13 years of age has the same mental and physiological maturity that a human of the same equivalent age would have? 13 years of age is around a quarter of the life spectancy of Ukanuq (50 years), so would that make a Ukanuq of said age be as mature as a human of 21 (which is a quarter of the life expectancy of a human at 85)?

Yep, you go it right!
Valya | 19 | Human - Drafter

"Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us."


Brought to form from a peculiar set of genetic underlay, and drafted in decaying pale tones, and the fading remnants of long dead and distant ancestors; Valya holds a strange ethereal presence to her, conjuring images of wayward spirits. A scarecrow frame is only further highlighted by the cadaverous tones of outward flesh; a near translucent tone to the skin brushed across with the freckles that lay across the face. A body which appears simply to vanish and fade away wherever the light meets it, seemingly without wayward flesh or the accumulation of hard muscle; the piece of paper that dances through the storm.

A resting countenance caught somewhere between boredom and lethargy houses eyes of faintly glimmering blue, like the sky they reflect they are wide with possibility and potential, but can quickly turn to foreboding and crackling with unseen energies. In conjuncture with the spheres of blue are perhaps the girl's other defining feature, a short clustering of blonde hair, choppy in its texturing not falling below the neck, it appears as if it was done by a singular hand with a knife whose blade had lost its finer edge. It is unknown whether such a process was done for the sake of practicality or for her own stylistic endeavors. It's sheer brevity pairing well with the rest of her features: from her rather small frame (standing roughly at 167 centimeters at height), to her overall appearance of slender limbs and unpronounced feminine features.

Her traditionally attire speaks mostly to her position. The long robes of blues and grays that denote a initiate of the Priory. The thick robes built of strong composite fabrics seem to swallow the girl whole, giving off the distance impression of a drowning sailor. Yet the attire does much to further support already heavy androgynous tones, a mirage that is only broken with speech thanks to the unmistakable soft timbre of feminine origin. The only other piece of this attire maybe not worthy are her gloves, key to her studies and her own powers they seem to never leave her hands but if one examined the palms they would see the glittering circuitry that pluses throughout.


Valya was born into a small fishing town not far from Essrin. The daughter of a shipwright and a mother who died during childbirth. Her father Arryn, the aforementioned shipwright was a kind man that tried to rise his daughter right. When Valya was six years old though raiders attacked the her village killing those that resisted like Arryn and taking the rest to be sold as slaves. Valya would end up being shipped far away to the northern city of Varkhym, the thriving home of the oceanic slave trade ever since the fall of Gaerth. She would be sold into the service of Remille Beleaux, one the merchant princes that called Varkhym home.

For the next six years the Beleaux estate would become Valya's home. In this time Valya would draw the eye of Beleaux wife Lady Genevieve. It would be this way that Valya would end up joining Genevieve's entourage of serving ladies. Genevieve was the daughter of a commoner who manged to gain the hand of a prince, yet it was more than apparent that it was Genevieve not Remille who was responsible for the Beleaux recent influx of power. A shrewd and cunning women who would stop at nothing to gain the power she knew she deserved. For one reason or another she took Valya under her wing teaching the girl the ways of the world, even if the feelings of compassion were mostly one-sided in nature. As Valya was constantly looking for a way to escape and find her freedom.

The Beleaux's would take a meeting to Hektra, to solidify a trade deal, and Valya would come along as part of Genevieve's retinue. It was during this time that Valya's chance at escaping would come to fruition. The Beleaux being caught in negotiations long into the night, Valya had a chance to escape when most of the guard was with them. She managed to sneak into one of the many teleportation circles within the tower they were currently residing in and make her way on the streets. By luck or maybe fate she found her way to the Grand Cathedral, where a member of the Priory by the name of Auguste took the girl in.

Valya escape was not as discrete as she would of believed and soon enough the Beleauxs came to the Cathedral to reclaim their "property". Genevieve was furious, a font of anger who could only speak words of betrayal over the "child she had treated as a daughter" doing such a thing to her. It was clear to all that heard the tirade that Valya had little chance of living much longer once they returned to Varkhym. It was at this point that Keeper Auguste would step in, as it turned out the kindly man that had taken her in was in fact one of the advisers to the Archon himself. After learning of Valya's true position of a slave and the circumstance she was in, Auguste spoke to the Beleaux's and did the only thing a man of morals such as himself could do, he bought off the girl's contract. Genevieve was still furious, but Remille was able to pull her away content with a heavy coin purse and not wanting to make a fool's mistake in offending the Priory anymore.

Valya was given her freedom. Yet, she had no family or friends to go back to. Her town was destroyed and she would rather die than head back to Varkhym. So she took the path that was already ahead of her, maybe as repayment for the kindness that she was given or maybe because it was her only option. She would join the Priory as an initiate

Seven years would pass seemingly in the blink of an eye. Seven years spent uncovering the secretes of the University. A peculiar structure which learning to traverse was the first true test of the new initiates. Caught half-way between this world and its own pocket dimension. Doors were found of ceilings, and hallways seemed to move at their own accord. This strange world ruled by its own unwritten logic soon became her home. At first things were not all that great. Her fellow initiates thought of her as strange and tended not to talk to her, and in the months that followed, an unhappy Valya attempted to run away several times, and was reprimanded for getting into various fights and other sources of trouble.

Now she is to be sent on her Excursion. The final test an initiate must pass to graduate and become a full member of the Priory. As Ashfoot looms ahead of her, her mind is filled with the old familiar pang of self-doubt.


  • Drafting - Valya like many of the Priory has learned how to manipulate the unseen forces and energies that circle about the world. Particularly this comes through in a device of her own making, based upon blueprints found within the University archives. A pair of gloves laced with underlying circuitry through gestures in the air almost like she is writing code, she is able to command the nanospirts (nanomachiens) that are everywhere in the air to do miraculous and strange things from throwing bolts of lighting to healing small wounds.
  • Gifts of Knowledge - The world of the Priory is one based upon understanding the Reclaimed World. While, still only an initiate her understanding of the hidden truths of the world is much greater than your average person. This leads her to be rather inquisitive about most things and less prone to falling to blind fear and superstition for magic and gods always have a more concrete answer.
  • Quick Tongued - Not the most physically intimidating person in the world, Valya has to rely more on her wits than anything else to keep her alive. Most of the time that comes through in trying to defuse any situation through non-violent approaches - you win every battle you don't start really.
  • Mantle of Faith - The Priory is a venerated institution in the Holdings and beyond. Helps you get into places others wouldn't be able to and makes the local townsfolk a bit more trusting.


  • Interface Gloves - They appear like a simple pair of fingerless gloves, yet there underside revels them to be laced with underlying circuitry. The key to her drafting ability, the gloves seem to never level her hands having become an extension of the flesh.
  • Priory Robes - The heavy robes of the Priory. While cumbersome in their length they provided surprisingly strong protection from the elements.
  • Codex - Like all members of the Priory out on active duty, she carries a codex, a leather-bound journal to keep documentation and notes of travels ahead. Done in paper for paper has less chances of breaking.
  • Bone Knife - A simple blade carved from the bone of some unknown beast. If used in actual combat it is a strong indicator that something has gone terribly wrong.

General Nonsense:

The Priory

The Priory has its origins among the old Cellva Faith. A belief and veneration over the Makers, the rulers of the World Before. Their faith teaching them that once these god-like beings walked among us but in the great betrayal known as the Long Silence, they were banished back into their respected heavens and hells. In time though sects of the Cellva Faith would begin to break away, this lead to a grand theological conflict in which these separatists would argue that the Makers were not gods but men. That their power was not divine but from understanding. It would be these separatists that would be the origin of the Priory.

Almost certainly the strongest and most dominant organization in the Holdings — and possibly the Wilds — the Priory was established by the original Archon, Lady Ferial over 500 years ago. Its members are called Stewards, and they are the most trusted experts in handling, identifying, and using technology and other lore. In most communities, Stewards are the local “wise folk,” looked upon with respect as leaders and advisers in the important facets of life.

Although the Priory seems like a religion, technically it’s not one. It’s not a religion — it’s a veneration of intellect, understanding, and the wonders that arise from such things: science, technology, and understanding. While the closet thing that they have to a "divine being" would be a philosophical concept known as the Eternal Machine. To summarize it is best to think of reality and all the pieces within it as cogs of a grand mechanism an eternally functioning machine that has been in motion since the beginning of time and we area ll but the parts that continue its movement.

Still, many people treat the order like a religion regardless. These people are not members, but rather “adherents.” In their eyes, the order is focused on worshiping the past and the ancients who created the fantastic devices and strange. The Priory has done little to discourage this idea. In fact, they have discovered that the people of the Holdings are more likely to respect, admire, and obey the Priory if they think of it as a religion. Thus, in larger cities, the order has begun holding quasireligious services to encourage this idea. They ritualize their teachings to respect and understand technology as the key to advancing humanity

Priyet | 50 | Jotun

"Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young."


Standing at the joining of the alien grace of a ball of mercury and the sheer mass of fifty tons of liquid concert, Priyet is if anything else not a small man. In fact it seemed everything was large about the man, from the way he dwarfed all he stood by both horizontally and vertically, even his own kin; to the way a singular long horn crested from the left side of his head, its former pair nothing more than a shattered stump. The sheer physicality, of it all is presented in every flex of the musculature which seem to bulge from their very confines with every tightening of a fist. This musculature itself contained beneath a patchwork of angry white-scars over what was once flesh, the color of ashen soot. The most notable of this scarring being where once was a pointed ear, now lay only a mangled mash of tissue as if something or someone had bitten it off.

The underlying strength though is not that of the stricken beast, it is a contained and measured thing. Objects are not crushed in his hands, but tended to with a fatherly care. Fitting for the work he partakes in, working his needles with a surgeon's touch. One might call it gentleness, but it would more accurate to call it care. A care which is reflected in a pair of eyes deep-set into the face - tiny motes of green lost against the ash. The eyes do not observe so much as they dissect and take apart. Yet whatever insight might be gained is casually deflected away with a crooked smile and a boisterous laugh.


Priyet is a curious enigma that has served with the Vigil since its founding. Like most of the old guard, he values his privacy. Though through the occasional tidbit told under drink or to throw off someone during a hand in cards, something resembling a tapestry could be reconstructed. Though many of its ends are tattered and its hard to tell how much is truth and what is just a tall-tale.

They say though that Priyet was born into a Jotun clan of little renown in the Far South. Though Priyet himself remembers little of this time as he left when he was but a very small child. To pay their dues of fealty to Dukes of Baroon in exchange for free range over the lands, the tribe would give away some of their newborns to be trained as soldiers to supplement Baroon's army. Priyet was one such baby and was sent away to the domed city.

In Baroon he came under the tutelage of one of the Duke's knights. He split his time between working as a servant boy and being personally tutored by the knight in the ways of the world; he learned of the histories, the sciences, and more importantly the art of warfare. The knight was a strict teacher that expected quality results and would often beat Priyet when he failed to grasp concepts or ideas at a pace of his liking. Never the less, he was what Priyet would describe as a "fair" man, and Priyet would grow to respect him.

When Priyet was ten the Ukanuq Wars broke out and the knight was called to battle, Priyet followed along as his squire. The knight would die during one of the opening battles of the conflict. Priyet with nowhere else to go continued following the soldiers. He found himself work in the medical tents, where an understaffed physician was working with his bare essentials. Priyet soon found himself running bandages, applying splints, and in time even assisting in surgery. By war's end the physician was impressed with his work enough to invite him back to Hektra, where he could vouch for Priyet's acceptance into the Priory's University so he could learn to become a "real" doctor.

Priyet attended the University at Hektra for a year between his fifteenth and sixteenth birthdays. Never really stuck though and he soon packed up his bags and left. Found his way back to Gaerth where he picked up where he left off. Tending to soldiers same as before, not in a tent anymore though, he did it on the field. One soldier that he treated told him about this idea she and a bunch of others were working on. A sort of fraternity to allow people like them to find well-paying and good work and spend less time dying in hell holes like Gaerth, they would need good people to patch them up. Gaerth signed up and not just because he fancied the woman's smile.

Ever since then he's been with with the Vigil. Floating from chapter to chapter wherever he was needed. The say he wrestled one of the clank warlords and won, they say he dived into the Tear on a bet, and they say many more things. Sometimes its hard to tell what's truth and what's a tall-tale anymore. He was offered a position on the Leading Council on three separate occasions, he denied each time. In fact he seemed to find great pleasure in getting away from politics as much as possible, maybe cause that smiling woman is now the head of the Leading Council, and their relationship fell apart messily. Whatever the reason, he's working with the Mournhold bunch.

It's been surprising quiet since the whole barbarian conflict. Never liked the quiet.


First and foremost Priyet is probably the best person to call when you are bleeding out on the ground. A trained physician more through experience than study he has a well versed understanding in poultices, stitching, splinting, cauterizing, and whatever else may come up in the Vigil's particular line of work. Those big hands of his work with a surprising amount of skill and grace in the craft to make sure that his people don't end up getting killed. Probably a Jotun thing really, takes it very personally when people go and die on him as it says bad things about his honor more than anything else.

Priyet himself though isn't one to shy away from a fight, something quiet obvious displayed by the amount of scar tissue he has accumulated over the years. He prefers things up close and personal where he can make sure the other guy is dead. This death is typically delivered in the form of swift blows from that blasted axe of his. Though his reflexes may have slowed with age, the strength his pulls behind each swing his only seemed to increase like a fine vintage as he cuts his foes in twine.

Not that he likes to flaunt it that much, Priyet is something of a "cultured" individual. He's read the classics and understands mathematics and scientific theory. Something that most professional soldiers don't have the ability to say. While his appearance would prevent any such meeting, he could with surprising levels of ease understand the topics of high society, if not put them off with his cavalier attitude. If asked Priyet doesn't hide the fact that he is known to enjoy the "finer things in life" because only an idiot would try and start something with him.


  • Scanner - A strange device that Priyet can use to discern injuries, infections, and breakages, both external and internal.
  • Folding Axe - In its disengaged state this weapons appears like a flat sheet of paper. Yet a simple touch makes the metal like substance meld and reshape itself to whatever preprogrammed shape has been placed into the interface. In this case a large and rather intimidating two-handed battle axe.
  • Satchel of Pills - A simple leather satchel filled with a wide variety of mysterious pills.
  • Vigil Armor - Standard supply Vigil armor, a combination of metal and leather strung together that fits snugly over his hulking frame.

General Nonsense:


Your Characters are members of the Vigil. Some of you may have been part of the company for some time, helping protect Mournhold from barbarians and the like. Some of you may be more recent hires looking for a chance to see the world, go on adventure.

Variety is good. Not everyone in the group is going to be a hardened and grizzled warrior. Not everybody is going to be a young and inexperienced adventure. Not everyone is going to be smart, charming, or whatever. Try and mix it up a bit here people, go beyond the boundaries of stereotypical fantasy heroes and tropes. The Vigil quite literally takes anyone that can swing a sword and those that can't swing a sword as well and teaches them how to do it.

Have fun with your backstory. Yes there is a lot of already well-established places and history in Reforged, but a lot of it has also been left blank for you guys to fill in as you please. I implore you to let your imagination go wild and add towns, cities, tribes, and the like to the world. I present you this canvas and hey if you have a free canvas might as well use it right?

A Note on Equipment. In an effort to ensure some balance and growth for our characters, characters will be able to start with two pieces of Level III Technology on them. That is either two pieces of combat technology, two pieces of non-combat technology or one of each. Clanks will get one piece of Level III Technology because they already have their cybernetics. Drafters will get none save for their charms and the like, because they already have bracelets that give them telekinesis or rings that shoot fireballs.

Please don't post unaccepted sheets to the CS Tab. Once again. You may post send a draft of your sheet to me if you want any opinions on it, but for the final review it is only fair that I do it in front of everybody, so when you post your sheet to the OOC, I'm going to consider that your submitted application unless otherwise noted.

Use the CS Template below. You can just copy and past it from below and fill in the blank color= sections with a color code of your choice. I will tag you when I've completed reviewing your sheet.


Although the comparison between “magic” and technology is worthwhile, taking it too far is likely a mistake. For example, you can imagine someone disbelieving in magic even in a world where it exists. No one in Reforged “disbelieves” in the technolgoy. It’s all around them. It cannot be denied. It’s also more common than magic would be in most fantasy settings. And yet it’s still just as mysterious and strange, mostly because the technology is varied and unpredictable to those who don’t understand it.

There are people, however, who do understand it—at least to some degree. Not everyone merely scavenges technology from ruins. Some study it, comprehend a bit of it, and then create their own. Results are mixed, but in certain villages, the local tinkerer or Priory member has made a fabulous discovery not just of technology, but of understanding. Now, with the right resources, they can make the device, concoct the drug, or develop the process. A whole community might have access to advancements that are far beyond anything else they possess —a group of farmers using automatons to pull their plows, a village whose thatched roofs are coated in fire-retardant spray, or a band of soldiers with chainmail, spears, and short-wave communicators in their iron helms.

It’s important to remember that the people don’t look at technolgoy the way that 21st-century people look at technology. A force field projector and a two-way radio would seem not only like magic, but magic of the same level of power. In fact, the radio might seem more potent because its use is more broad and its effects are “invisible.” These people have no perspective on what sorts of technology are more advanced than others, and they take none of it for granted.

Technology in all its forms is categorized generally into three distinct formats depending on what they do and how they do it. These are typically called Level I, Level II, and Level III tech for simplicty particualry by Krewes who use said terminology.

Level I is basically strange little oddities and trinkets that are found almost everywhere. They are simple things such as a stone that floats in the palm of your hand, or a small rod that glows when you shake it. These weird and interesting little trinkets and gadegts can be given as gifts or commonly sold to merchants for a quick piece of coin.

Level II refers to technology that has power, but can't hold onto that power for long. These are simple things like a magical elixir used to cure poison (anti-venom), a small sphere that when throw emits a bright display of light or maybe an explosion of fire and metal (grenades), a device that points you towards its sister device (a tracking device), a pill that lets you breath underwater and so on.

Level III technology are typically along the same lines of power as Level II tech, but they are much more durable lasting for extended uses or as long as their batteries maintain themselves. These can be reforged and made into much more versatile equipment like weapons, armor, and other utility items like radios and flash lights.

Still, all tech is rarely straightforward in actual use. Rather than find a device that was meant to be used as a “gun,” a person is far more likely to find an item that was originally intended for another purpose but that has been modified (as best as the Reclaimed World understanding can manage) and now can be used as a ranged weapon. So instead of having a laser pistol you have a modified wielding device, and some reactor coating can be made into a reflector shield. Given the right tools and parts, some characters will be able to construct such items on their own. All tech are incomprehensible devices, as likely as not powered by transdimensional siphons using nanotechnology to rewrite reality on an atomic or subatomic level. Even to someone who understands a great deal about technology, most artifacts appear to be more magic than machine.


Drafters are sometimes called mages, wizards, sorcerers, or witches by the people of the Reclaimed World. Some claim to be the representatives of gods or other supernatural agencies. Whatever they’re called, these individuals have come to understand the mysteries of the past to the degree that they seem to perform miracles. They tap into Technology to alter reality or learn things that they couldn’t otherwise know.

Drafters come in two distinctive forms which are dependent on how they interact with the technology around them to perform their magic. Those who through various tiny devices that they possess, which seem like magic charms to the uninitiated, “conjure” energy. By accessing the surrounding web of connectivity transmitted across the world, they connect with machines — including the nanites — to change their environment. As a result the magic does not come from inside or any potency, but from the understanding of these charms making it more "totemic magic" if you want to call it that.

There are also of course what are called High Smiths. These alchemists and artificers have spent their entire lives analyze and understanding the underlying mechanism behind recovered technology. Using their knowledge they are capable of jury-rigging seemingly useless odds and ends of recovered technology into fabulous creations. Anyone can split a few wires to make an old battery into a bomb, but a High Smith can make wrecks into cannons and gravity generators into personal deflector shields for the right price of course. Because of the skill and knowledge it takes to perform such feats High Smiths are very rare especially beyond the Holdings and most if not all are of Cellva blood as their long lifespans work mean that spending seventy years submerged in reading old recovered mechanical designs and taking apart salvaged tech isn't too much of a time sink.
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