Current
This site's like Old Broadway...I'm seeing a young man sittin' in an old man's bar, waitin' for his turn to die.
3 yrs ago
I would sooner face outright phobia again than be given a half-hearted apology by the same systems which did nothing in the face of injustice and to now seek to make profit from our suffering.
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3 yrs ago
I will never celebrate Pride Month for being stabbed in the leg and shot in the neck while it is sponsored by Chase. I will never mistake complacency for forgiveness nor acceptance.
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3 yrs ago
Pride Month is celebrate by those who have never struggled. Those of us who have - those who have been harassed, assulted, detained and debased - have no such pride in it. There is only ire and spite.
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3 yrs ago
So sorry if I'm not enthused. It's just that there's nothing to be happy about now, and people just buy rainbow stuff from the same corps who need us kept down to sell them in the first place.
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Bio
“There was a time when I was master of the universe. As I was staying ageless and motionless before my computer, flying untouched over human frenzy, cities rose and crumbled under my thumb, tiny people ran hurriedly to their death on the roads I had built and time flew at my command.
Then it all stopped, and I had to become one of those running specks. They call it 'life.'”
Ophidias Seht The Black Dragon, the Serpent of Chaos, Magician of Black Chaos Mekhari Khain (formerly)
Age
Though born mortal, Seht's corporeal form has become suffused with magical energies, ensorcelled to render him beyond the physical limitations that bind mortals. As such, he does not age, and more than two thousand years have passed since his birth.
Race
The child that was named Mekhari, born to the house of Khain, was of a people known as the Remet. Originally a mortal desert people that peacefully farmed grains on riverbanks, they came to be enslaved by demons that had been summoned into their native land, and lived for many generations thereafter in bondage. Most lived as slaves, for their labor or sacrifice, but the house of Khain was among the rare few noble families, permitted to commune with the demons and learn their secrets, and ruled their kin as their dark masters' proxy.
Appearance
Seht is a master of transformation and illusion, and so his physical form is mutable and chaotic. The most common avatar he wears among those he considers peers is that of a jester-like sorcerer with pallid skin and long hair of midnight black. Most of his forms have similar characteristics, generally masculine, though lithe, elfin, and dark-haired. In his mortal youth, Mekhari had been an enchanting youth with bronze skin and golden eyes, though he was thin and weak in the chest and limbs.
Background
Born to the desert-dwelling tribe known as the Remet, "Weeping Ones," in their language, was a child named Mekhari, a scion of one of their people's dwindling noble bloodlines. While they had been shaman-lords when the Remet were free, they were now merely foremost among slaves. No Remet had been born out of bondage for thousands of years, and Mekhari of the House of Khain was no exception. The magical talents of Remeti sorcerers were bent toward the enduring oppression of their tribesmen. They had been taught black magic by the demonic slave-masters that called themselves their kings, and were used to enforce cruel edicts, quell dissent, punish the families and neighbors of troublemakers, and crush the spirit of hope among the Remet. The servitude of the masses was stable under their lash, erecting monuments of stone for unknown purposes as their masters dictated, and appeasing their hunger for blood and suffering. Even their dead served, as mummified puppets hewed stone blocks from the earth. While the masses toiled and were tortured, the House of Khain and others like it lived as their masters' lavished pets; gifted with education, great knowledge possessed only by demons, afforded pleasures, comforts, and luxuries, and were even given medicine and restorative magic if they fell ill.
Mekhari was always a sickly child, having barely survived a birth that killed his mother. As he grew, his heart and chest were weak and frail, and his limbs were thin with brittle bones. The magical houses of the Remet were few, and always dwindling, as the gift of magic did not always pass on to every child. Desperate not to lose their master's favor, they had long since resorted to desperate measures to keep their bloodlines intact. As such, Mekhari did not grow to be imperious and terrible like his father or brothers, but his love of books and learning was all the greater, and he spent long whiles through his youth practically buried in the ancient, malefic tomes gifted by their masters.
When Mekhari was on the cusp of manhood, the demons' terrible scheme that had been mortal generations in the making finally came to fruition. The stone pyramids, towers, and other edifices they had constructed formed the structure of a massive ritual. A blood sacrifice like none that had ever been offered before was extracted, and every one of the Remeti sorcerers were present as the chorus to this black sacrament. Their demonic kings lent their own power to the ritual, and it was successful-- at first. Centuries of toil and sacrifice had summoned Apep, the Sun-Eater, a serpentine avatar of pure chaos and apocalyptic destruction. Its very entry into this world absorbed the souls of every living Remeti, and the power emanating from its physical manifestation obliterated every physical trace of their society. All that had been spared were the stone temples and structures that had been part of its summoning, and the mortal sorcerers that had aided in that act. Apep's first and only action in this world was to immediately devour the demons that had summoned it, which cut off the power supplying the ritual, and forced Apep to be unsummoned to the realm from whence it came.
At once stripped of their masters, their homes, and their entire tribe, the sorcerers of the Remet set off in separate ways, into the world at large. The lazy and untalented were quickly made fodder for other demons, or burned as warlocks. Some stuck together as families, and formed covens that bewitched the countryside for generations to come. Others struck out as lone sorcerers and wizards, some turning to good, most remaining evil. Mekhari was among these, setting off on his own with tremendous purpose to accumulate more knowledge and power. In time he would visit every single one of his tribesmen that remained, tracking them across the world (and across dimensions for some), and killed them himself, starting with his father and younger brother.
One of the first lessons Mekhari learned was that names carried power, and unless he wanted to become someone else's slave, he should conceal his own. He took up the sobriquet Ophidias Seht, taking the names from books he remembered from his cloistered youth, about the ancient gods of his people, and foreign treatises on astrology. Another early lesson was that he could not hope to match a demon when measuring power against power. His only hope when confronting demons, as he often did in his pursuits, was to outmatch them in knowledge or preparation. Demons often carry many secrets, and so Seht loved to learn from them, and use their secrets to defeat other demons, only to then learn their secrets as well. In this way Seht learned many varied and powerful magics, manipulating terrifying forces such as elemental death and the void between worlds. All this while Seht could only think of the terrifying power of Apep, and how if he could wield the might of the Chaos Serpent, there would be none that could ever enslave him again.
Centuries passed, and Seht grew powerful. The stronger he became, the easier it became to gain even more power. However, he was always tempered by caution and distrust, which saved his life on many occasions. The schemes of other mages were trivial to foil for one that had been raised as the slave of a demon, and grew up to battle them for their knowledge. Furthermore, he had seen firsthand what overreaching into the forbidden wrought, and it had been the doom of beings powerful enough to enslave nations. His research was methodical, careful to avoid magics that could consume him, or unfair bargains with greater powers. Seht took up a hobby of sorts through his long life and wide experience: trapping noteworthy or rare demons into playing cards, collecting them, and traveling with them so that he might summon them again at his pleasure.
It was only natural that such an august presence as the Demon Lord, a king among kings with a nation of devoted followers, would seek the service of one of the greatest black magicians to ever live. While his task seems childishly simple, Seht of course has an ulterior motive to his service. He plans gain enough power to capture and enslave the Demon Lord himself, which he could use to di the same to Apep, the most powerful chaos god of all, and assume his rightful place as master of the universe.
Skills and Abilities
Ophidias Seht is a black magician of nightmarish strength, with mastery over many different styles and studies of magic, centuries of experiences, and the victor of countless magical battles. He has proved himself more than a match for many demons that greatly outstrip him in raw power, as he can win out through guile, preparation, and the breadth and esotericism of his knowledge. His expertise is focused in powers and lores such as necromancy, void magic, alchemy, psionics, draconic magic, infernal sorcery, diablery, hexes and curses, chaos magick, dimensional travel, pyromancy, sangromancy, umbramancy, oniomancy, ophiomancy, astrology, hypnotism, and haruspicy. He of course knows much of the natural world, mathematics, and philosophy, as would be needed to attain his magical expertise. Seht's physical body is completely suffused with enchantments and spells empowering and protecting his mortal flesh, to the point where magic has taken over for almost all of his vital functions. If one were to manage to pass through his numerous wards and protective spells, and harm his reinforced flesh, magic would keep him alive for the few moments until his flesh was healed.
Quips
The familiar of Ophidias Seht is the mutant beast he calls Omega. She was the final result of Seht's dragon breeding program, which itself was a product of his lifelong fascination with dragons following him witnessing Apep destroy his people's civilization. With a careful selection of stolen dragon eggs, and painfully extracted dragon hormones, he was able to magically force dozens of generations of dragons to grow, breed, and die in mere decades, accelerating the timetable of his artificial selection by centuries. He suffused the dragons with enhancing magics and dark blessings until their bodies were saturated, and chose the children that kept those traits, enchanted them, and repeated the process. This often carried painful, unwanted side effects though, and after fewer generations than he had hoped, the dragons began to pass on defects and mutations. Many eggs were stillborn, and more did not survive long past birth. Omega was the final, and most successful subject of these experiments, a mutant dragon suffused with darkness to her core. A sleek, silvery-grey beast with five heads, she is a creature of ferocious, evil power, and cold, predatory intelligence. Normally she would hold no affection for Seht, and likely kill and devour him for the crime of her birth. However, he has implanted powerful mind-altering crystals into her brain, forcing Omega into slavish loyalty. This terrifying, hulking monstrosity accompanies Seht into pitched battle, or wherever he wishes to terrify others into compliance.
Seht currently holds 108 different demons enslaved in his deck of cards. These correspond each to a symbolic figure on the card. These are his rarest and most treasured minions, valued greatly over the ghosts, undead, and other entities he can summon to do his bidding.
Seht's skills in political maneuvering and subterfuge were forged in his noble house, as his family and their peers would often scheme and sabotage each other to gain their demonic masters' favor. In his youngest years, before he had learned deadly curses, Mekhari favored poison in the wine cup as a means of dispatching rivals. He killed two of his brothers this way before reaching age fifteen.
The ruins of the demonic ritual site that destroyed the Remet now serve as Seht's home and headquarters. The stone monuments and much of the ground below them has been hollowed out to form his lair. The ruins serve as the hub of Seht's network of leylines, portals, and teleportation circles, allowing him to travel great distances with almost no effort. Besides that, his lair is warded with powerful geocentric enchantments and charms, guarded by numerous malevolent entities under Seht's control, and the land itself is cursed and inhospitable, teeming with tortured Remeti ghosts.
Seht finna play Magic The Gathering in real life too
thwip! here she is, reposted. let me know if i should change or add anything
Name: De'kae N'nm.
Age: 19
Race: Lizardfolk (Mortal)
Appearance:
De'kae has an odd look about her, like she's thinking of something confusing or frightening. She's a skinny girl with green, scaled skin, standing at a humble 5'2. Her clothes are scraggly and dirty, and she walks with a slight limp that favors her left leg. Background: Among lizardfolk, to be born with a deformity is to be touched by a curse. Ever since she was a girl De'kae was an outcast, and she has always found solace among the plants and animals. De'kae is a self taught druid, or rather, she was taught only by the forests, mountains, and valleys. No schools, books, tomes or recipes.
Eventually, she found herself connecting to the world of the fae, a wild, mystical place. Though she daren't disturb it with her own presence, she could coax creatures from their homes with greater and greater proficiency.
Rumors spread that a cursed witch lived in the woods, and in a way, there was. A hunting party of the nearby kingdom was gathered to hunt her down. At first she reacted with fear, and did her hardest to escape. As they closed in on her, she lashed out with her abilities and found it quite easy to kill these hunters and huntresses. De'kae relaxed and restrained herself, frightening the remaining majority out of her woods. Instead of a massacare and a threat, she began a cautionary tale and a local legend, and was left alone. When heroes returned later to flush her out, she had already left and gone undercover again.
De'kae liked this feeling of power, though. And she liked serving a little vengeance upon those who had Othered her. Finally De'kae entered the fae wild and lived there for a few short years. She helped it creep into the mortal realm, opening portals and rifts in woods to bring wonder, joy, mystery and danger to the short lives of mortals. De'kae is an adventurer herself, though she only goes where nature allows her too, and disturbs no sacred grounds.
All of this 'poking holes in reality because she likes plants so much' business got the attention of a certain demon lord. Having suffered in the past at the hands of misinformed 'heroes', and having an altruistic heart, De'kae was pleased to join.
Skills and Abilities: Affinity with Plants and Animals: Kay can communicate with animals, creatures, and monsters. Any animal that wouldn't be able to speak otherwise, she can create a mental and spiritual connection with. Even plants can be spoken with.
Botantical and Zoological Knowledge: Because of the above skill and her experience with the natural world, De'kae knows the name and function of every plant, magical and mundane, in the mortal realm.
Fae Connection: Has a spiritual connection with the unknowable realm of life and madness. Can detect portals and rifts.
Alchemist: Knows how to make all sorts of useful potions and dangerous poisons. De'kae herself is naturally immune to the negative effects of most poisons.
Life Link: Any creature she has an affinity with can be bound to her will, forcing them to do as she pleases. She doesn't like doing this, but she can if she must. Doing so means she has total control over creatures, but any damage done to them hurts her. She can only do this with an animal that trusts her and is willing, but the result is an unbreakable bond. De'kae has learned a variety of methods to earn an animal's loyalty, but she prefers not to take this final, ultimate step.
Quips: Doesn't like the Guiding Lady and her weird attempts to throw off the natural order of things. Especially since, inevitably, there will be another great war and another Demon Lord will just take the last one's place. Bringing these unnatural humans into the eco-system annoys her greatly.
Actually pretty nice, if odd and under-socialized. Really, she's always liked the idea of big heroes and the power of friendship, but not with this whole weird Guidance crap going on in the background. Especially for a cause that, fundamentally, makes no sense. There's nothing heroic about it, just killing Demons because their Demons, as far as she can tell.
The Demon Lord is indubitably an intelligent presence - He had muscled and crawled and scampered through the ranks of the Underworld, and even as a Emberling He showed tenacity to even make a Great One show appreciation. Lord Ahriman - The Fires fuel His soul - has made great strides in the advances of Sheol unto Earth, even rivaling those decadent bastards in the Church! The apostates in the service of the Goddess are nothing but a cabal of villains, rogues, and those who so priggishly defend the former two! They so shamelessly appropriate the tenants of Demonhood and so utterly corrupt them under veils of "light", "restraint", "order", and other such nonsense. It is nepotism, preying on the disenfranchised and desperate, and little besides. We, on the other hand, offer freedom and true merit, and the Demons shall never once cease until ever last agent of light is likewise cast down. In our righteous crusade, Lord Ahriman leads as the forefront of this campaign, coming from our Demonic home of Sheol, Crux of the Underworld.
Yet like clockwork, every time there was the problem. Not quite the same problem each time, but ones so similar as to which their similarities could never be disputed nor refuted throughout Demonkind. Like the Deus Ex Machina of mortal tales, a mystical hero, prophesied to come from a far-flung land, would turn unto the Demons and from the Darkness usher in Light. Some even say it must be the Curse of Saint Zariah, but none expected her revenge to be so...persistent. They are each unassuming, fumbling fools who have bumbled before an unknown world and only spared a fittingly anticlimactic death by Her Clairvoyance. Her Guidance shall propel her champions - Her summoned sheep-in-paladin-dress, and whatever sorry whelps have been drugged by Her meddling - and their inexplicable machinations have thwarted the plans of even the most cunning of Demon Kings.
Well, to Heaven with that! Lord Ahriman did not muscle and grime and plot and plan his perfect revenge for some magical tart to come along and muck it up, all because some cooky, overzealous old crone gave him a magic sword! He has faced a foe far greater than himself several times before, and while he still sits upon his Obsidian Throne, the night shall not fade! He, in all his infernal preeminence, has done far beyond the simple squalor on his crawl to the top: He has studied - quite impressively - and in His findings has so ascertained his study a most intriguing pattern. Her Guidance is a persistent pestilence, but not one without reason. She shall summon weak champions with each one fallen, another to exact her reprise. The sorts by which find their way into our world have all been cut from similar cloth. They are foolish, vain, weak-minded simpletons, devoid of personality and so insufferably lifeless that those who might know better shall call them what they truly are: Mere puppets of Her Will. Yet, such base desires are easily thwarted, for so simple the promise of wine and women may just as soon deter his attention - and his loyalty. Lord Ahriman - in all His eminent brilliance - hatched a most cunning plot, and instead has convened a most supine corps, who shall likewise infiltrate, interlope, and hunt down these would-be "champions". A defeated foe might one day return tenfold stronger for nemesis, but a reconciled one is truly, utterly vanquished. And if they so love to lap the boots of Her Will? Well, we can sure teach them a thing or two on how to lick...
Heartbreaking, isn't it?
So, who wants to be an Isekai Hunter?
As perhaps slated by the introductory blurb - and perhaps the tags (insofar that anyone really goes about reading those nowadays...) - Heartbreaker is a different take on your usual isekai romp. You are not the isekai protagonist. You've likely lived here your entire life, in Anime Fantasy Land working in some appropriately relevant field as to ascertain something which is not a life of agriculture or servitude. Her Guidance is a vexing thing, no doubt...but that is why you have sought out the Powers of Sheol, isn't it? The idea of a pre-ascertained life is a...depressing, incarcerating thing, only predetermined to an uneventful life, from which one's eternal soul shall be likewise unceremoniously plucked from its rotting prison and likewise re-incarcerated in its next banal life. But, really, where is the fun in that? Fortunately, Lord Ahriman is quite keen to intervene the affairs of mortals, and is readily here to correct this.
Before you ask: Yes. It does deal with the usual assortment of anime tropes - on the receiving end. Her Clairvoyance gives your very annoying target a surprising amount of foresight and protection, but as with everything that involves plot armor, we should hope that you will be savvy enough to subvert the typical array of augurs our poor hero will be credo to. Not just anyone can be a Heartbreaker, and only the smartest, strongest, swiftest, and serendipitous of souls survive long enough to rightfully call themselves one who might subvert Her Guidance. Yet, any plan which involves an unresponsive enemy ceases to be such and instead turns into fantasy. Her Vengeance shall twist and thwart in turn while she eternally plots in turn, and on the fields of mortals shall engage the greatest battle of wits to ever grace the land.
Expect a usual assortment of absurdist horror and its friend in humor: The Immortals often have a - forgive the pun - demented sense of comedy, and so too when Those Above and Those Below shall clash in the fields of mortals, they shall likewise adapt to their senses. A more "gonzo" sense of humor should be expected - and expect a lot of comedic tropes in anime to be parodied.
Interested? Vunderfaal! Here's a Character Sheet template I made off of this morning's caffeine binge, if you're so engrossed.
Name: How in the Seven Fires can you be of use to Lord Ahriman if you do not even know your own name?!
Age: Age is just a number: Much like how the prisons of Tartarus are simply rooms. Death is likewise but a mere inconvenience for those in the service of Sheol. Under normal circumstances, Demons cannot be killed: Only banished to Sheol for an indeterminate amount of time. Mortals who find themselves facing an inconvenient demise find their souls under the wing of Lord Ahriman, who shall revive them back unto their old self.
Race: There's all sorts of garden-variety fantasy races out there in the world, and all of them pale in comparison to what truly matters in the eyes of the Demons. One is either a Mortal or a Demon, and whatever other...connotations are preferred are really only window dressing to most in Sheolese society. Those still in the Land of the Living, however, will take more interest. Even the most well-trained of mortals never come close to the near-limitless potential of Demonhood, yet Mortals shall likewise go unnoticed throughout "polite" society, as Demons are easily revealed by Holy objects or Detection spells, no matter how well-trained they are to mask themselves.
Appearance: Cough up a suitably anime-inspired portrait of a figure that bears the likeness of your character. A description will also suffice, but please limit it to a paragraph or two. Background: Lord Ahriman posses the time for your life story, but not the patience. He is a prudent fellow (by the "generous" standards of a Demon Lord), but His Excellency insists that you spit it out: Not maunder on like a chattering maidservant.
Skills and Abilities: Something sets you above the usual charlatans thrown at the feet of Lord Ahriman. You are no grovelling aspirant. You are one of His finest and most trusted of henchmen - you are likewise required to prove it. Demons reward the successes of their champions generously with hellish magics and demonic powers, and Lord Ahriman is a most generous soul indeed. He - however - should prefer that you handle things with tact, even if the twisting of Her Guidance is a messy business.
Quips: If you have any miscellaneous character details, quirks, inspirations, 'anime-isms', or what-have-you, feel free to list them here.
Hyusis - the favoured land of God, Lodestar of Eminora, Beacon unto the Cosmos, Siren to Her Faithful and Condyle of Naika with Her Seven Lunar Sons - and all other flavourful euphemisms to describe this crater that is this magnet of Metsu-Yun. It is for some perplexingly convenient reason that such is the will of our cosmos to direct energy of the suns unto this northerly waste, but alas, for Her favoured land too produces Akhrana from the eternal foci of its position on Earth. And for what coincidence do her most Holy of lands likewise draw her champions there, like moths to a bonfire!
It is for that simple reason, in my decades of study, that all her champions have convened in this fated territory on this island Naika. It serves as her hallowed ground, and it is from this worldly centre that she finds herself abundant with faraway fellows. Many have called this land their righteous home, and through virtue of conquest has She found it righteous to do proclaim her homeland in the domain of others.
The so-called "Empire" is such an eclectic mess, permeating the West Banks, which runs so proudly from the Silver Marches, from which the Twin Plumes bellow in eternity to the whispering blue Arratz. It is simply nightmarish collection of noble houses, counties, duchies - all petty kingdoms beneath the banner of its electoral emperorship. It's lords care for the health of their nation once every four months, at the convening of their Diets, and are likewise so thoroughly entangled in their interpersonal affairs that it proves as a seedbed for intrigue. They yammer and squabble with so regular basis that the cries of foul play in the courts of Ouran are likened to the sound of bird song, and for this incessant bickering does it make for fine interloping.
They do love their imitation of the ancients - first-fold of Xandrian's Empire of yore, for which the Ourani do incessantly emulate in their far-forgotten fashions, in futile hope that they might earn but a shred of their long-lost glory - and second-fold in their cannibalization of the High Elves. From its cradling capital of Zariahr, most all the region of Hyusis remains under their nominal peerage. A few stragglers remain, of course, but Zariahr very much loves its vassals under heel. With their manyfold slaves in tow (Ouran insists upon calling its man-property "peasants", "subjects", "serfs", "helots", "servants", and all other manner of epithets - I only call them for what they are) this Empire of Ouran has far moved beyond its eponymous city-state and has transformed into the figurehead of a multi-national empire. Its scenescape varies far from the graceful, temperate lowlands of the Vestia to the ashen, snow-capped peaks of Spitta-Lyir.
The esteemed Lusavor dynasty preoccupies the Ivory Throne - the sixth or so, I believe - and their reign has such proved to be an aggressively conservative affair. Few in the Imperial courts are believed to be happy with their arrangement of iron-lipped dismissals, but even fewer are willing to possibly openly jeopardize their meagre worldly holdings in display to change their dismay. Emperor Lusavor serves as Pontifix Antaram's mouthpiece it so seems, and has thus far not shown much ambition towards ever changing this. His beloved betrothed, on the other hand, is quite the scene for rumour...
Ah, the elves. Those in the Ouran Empire are awfully proud of the integration of the High Elves - much like a zookeeper is proud of an old lion. What remain are only the scattered remant of the Low Elven folk of Rha-Mara. They are a fierce folk, with such belligerence and spirit that even an orc chieftain might blush to hear their feats. Many are subject yet to a life of vassalage beneath the Empire, yet there still exist the many who refuse to bow their heads before the Ourani yoke.
The Aran Mountains around which they convene nurture the woods of what they might call, "Great Išnaši". Their subbornness to hold out against the ever-threatening encroachment of the Clions into their sacred lands is nothing short of admirable, if their pursuit appears to be for naught. A good few of their clans stand divided in their approach to how quite deal with the Clionist threat. Quite a few favour a manner of ceasefire, penance, or perchance integration - depending on how deep they are into Ourani's coffers - yet the youngest and best-eyed of their clansmen have taken up a staunch anti-Ourani stance, determined to keep any manner of their influence free from their territory. The Low Elves have sacrificed much, and it seems unlikely that there will be any further appeasement in the near future - but cooperation is another matter, and some of the more "civil-minded" of their ilk seem quite pressed to reach an agreement. As it seems, though, the scenario between them and the Empire remains a tenuous one, for any sort of full-fledged incursion would almost certainly unite the clans into one front.
The orcs are such an easily...misinterpreted peoples. Coarse hills and jagged badlands far dominate the fields of Uli-Töva from whence they come, to which their peoples have found themselves in incessant conflict with both the elves of the north and the dwarves of the Far East - to say nothing of the humans - for what resources remain in easy access of their native hearth. Most so-called "civilized" nations are quick to dismiss the orc as an avatar of brutishness: They simply treat unkindness with reprisal of their own, and it is by this same virtue that the violence of the Empire is called "law" and the violence of the orcs called "banditry".
Most petty chieftains of Sela Orda are routinely extorted for tribute from Ourani - be it in the form of labour, coin, or promising slave-warriors. Few, naturally, are thus satisfied with this arrangement, but the varied and aeons-old feuds between clans and families deter any attempts at a truly united Orcish political entity. I believe, however, that this might be remedied with a few good marriages of opportunity...
Since the time of The Prophets have there been those so enterprising as to ascertain the whims of those greater than themselves. Their own prophet - the one we now know as "Clion of Arkhaila" Nevertheless, Clionism stands as the primary religious denomination found throughout the land, where they displace the aboriginals of Her favoured land with the same zeal as any might remove any vermin or parasite.
The Church is split into two predominant sects: Xandrian thought and Alytian thought. They have fought many a war to resolve very specific differences over what are largely the same ground tenants. Their most noteworthy symbol resolves the Three-Pronged Cross, for which they adorn almost every last preface with simply confusing iteration.
The Ecclesiarchy of Clionism - regardless of sect or geography - acts with so utter of impunity it has driven even the most draconian of kings mad with envy. Likewise, any such organization would indubitably need a militant arm, for which they shall stamp out the slightest signs of heresy or witchcraft. Their robber-knights routinely scrounge throughout the Imperial countryside, from where they righteously pluck the promising from their homes and grant unto them a life of but indenturement. These holy robber barons are unbeholden to petty lords, but might be routinely whored out to such nobles with the right circumstances...or connections.
Of note, one might be wary of the ones known as Namissaries in their service. The Namissar (Feminine: Namissara) are undoubtedly among the strongest corps of any Order. Namissaries are an elite cabal of slave-knights which have been granted servitude under the banner of an Order in exchange for absolution - and of course, status, with cattle of their own. Thorughout the years, the status of Namissaries have grown bloated, content to become cliquish with each passing generation, but mistakes shall not be made by insisting these old dogs no longer possess teeth.
Thanks to LadyAnnaLee for providing most of this, I edited it a bit to fit more in with the tone of the rest of this.
Andrew Valance – The current Head of the Knights of Valance. Katrina’s father. Aged 56.
Felix Valance – Believed to be due to be the next Head. Katrina’s second cousin. Aged 31.
David Valance – Katrina’s brother. Aged 31.
Sandy Valance – Katrina’s sister. Aged 21.
Opal Valance – Assigned to Hero Ithel Jernigan. She’s not been quite the same since she replaced with the harem. She dropped kicked a boy for kissing her. There are some concerns that the strange Hero gave her ideas. Katrina’s cousin. Aged 28.
Ivan Valance – The retired Head. He is thought to be bedridden, but it is rumoured sometimes Andrew and Felix will seek his advice. Katrina’s grandfather. Aged 79.
Klaus Valance – One of the people in charge of training the Valance youths. He taught “Interpersonal Physical Relationship” to all of his “favourites,” including Katrina. Katrina’s uncle. He is assumed dead, though his cause of demise has been the subject of many, many rumours.
One of the most noteworthy of the Clionist holy orders, Valances have existed in one form or another since the Triumph of Saint Zariah. They have been tasked by the Goddess to train and assist the Summoned Heroes. Every Hero since the days of Saint Zariah has had a Valance companion. The Knights of Valance have turned assisting and training Her chosen Heroes into a practical art. Though they are technically sanctioned by the Church of Clionism, in practice the Knights of Valance exist as their own, independent entity. Though they are not technically nobility, they have existed for longer than some noble families, and over the years they have acquired such magnitudes of wealth and status as to make themselves their own practical governance.
The Children of Valance are not raised by their parents. Instead they are raised in creches that include all children within a similar age range, which usually winds up being a collection of first, second, and third cousins. Together these creches are trained in combat from the time they can hold weapons, and also includes the instruction of basic strategy, tactics, and other matters of battle. Finally, they are drilled in the history of Heroes, Valances, and War between the Goddess and Demons. This training and education are simply draconian, if not flat-out abusive. Mistakes are ill-tolerated, and accordingly punished in arrangements varying from physical beatings to loss of meals and isolation. This pedagogy - by the words of their instructors - teaches the children to fight though the most hellish of pain and drills a drive towards perfectionism into them. It is undoubtedly arduous, but as the Valances would say, necessary in training to avoid even the slightest of seeds to be implanted within their knights.
The Head of the Knights of Valance is - perhaps oddly - not chosen by hereditary status. Instead the Heads are chosen via divination of Her favor when they are young, to be scried from when they are in their rudimentary stages of training. They are still raised in their age appropriate creches. Other positions among the Valances are assigned based on their aptitude. Those who excel in combat or history have a chance to become instructors for future creches. Some find places in the kitchen, stillroom, guardrooms, cleaning, or other such places. Valances are taught that no one position has no higher honor than another: All roles need to be fulfilled for the Knights of Valance to function properly.
The only calling that has any honor is Hero’s Companion. This is, supposedly, the highest honor a Valance can reach. The first qualification to becoming a Hero’s Companion is being close in age to the Summoned Hero. The second qualification is to be what the Hero requires - Though in practice, some have observed that this translates into romantic affability with aforementioned said Hero (to which this salacious slander is notaccepted in Valance's lore). The last qualification is skill in combat and historical knowledge. The Hero’s Companion joins the Hero in training were the pace of instruction is slow and mistakes are more easily forgiven. The Companion is also basically informed to accept any and all requests from the Heroes (This often comes in the form of physical advances, but again, disclosure of this so bluntly before a Valance is ill-advised). They also join the Hero of the journey to kill whatever Demon Lord they are facing at the time.
Officially, Valances do not ever leave the Knights of Valance. When an outsider marries a Valance, they agree to cut ties to their family. Valances with outsider parents often have their knowledge of an extended family obfuscated as to ostensibly protect them from being targets of demonic reprisal. When a Valance is born, their destiny is set. The only way to no longer be a Knight of Valance is to die in one way or another. To die as a Hero’s Companion is seen as an enormously high honor. There are, of course, stories of Valances that faked their death. Technically this is a crime punishable by true death, but as long as these people make no claims whatsoever to the Valance name and live an extremely quiet life they are mostly left alone. True "traitors" are unheard of, but many other holy orders seem to agree that this speaks more to the Valance's ability to control their narrative rather than their effectiveness at keeping fidelity.
Outside opinion of the Knights of Valance is...mixed. Most commoners rarely think of them, if they have ever had so much an opportunity to ever hear much of them. A few commoners who’s lives have been affected by the Valance’s single-minded drive in their Hero-based mission have strong opinions. If their lives were positively affected their opinion is positive. If it was negative, opinions are likewise. Negative is...more common. The Church ignores them as long as they continue to do excellent jobs at training and assisting Heroes...in addition for having extensive adaptability to events such as poisonings, fires, collapses, and other unfortunate disasters. For being a family of only about 200 people, the Knight of Valance have a great deal of power. The Nobles would very much like the Knights of Valance to lose a little, or rather a lot, of this power.
Sundered Justice – Crafted from the collected shards of The Divine Blade of the Goddess' Holy Wrath Against All Daemonkind. It was crafted into the likeness of an eastern katana to hide its true origin from demonkind - specifically, the one known as Medai". The original spell on the The Divine Blade of the Goddess' Holy Wrath Against All Daemonkind was to kill whichever demon was impaled with the blade. While that is true only for demons below a certain power level the enchantment holds true. Using the enchantment \ drains the user of enough magical power that they die, so Sundered Justice remains in the Godsvault save for cases of last resort. When it is used Sundered Justice resonates with its missing shards in attempt to fulfill its first purpose. Medai was strong enough to resist death even if her memories were reset. The practical upshot is that whenever Sunderd Justice kills a demon Medai loses her memories again. This is the Valances’ grandest weapon.
The Holy Hand Grenade of Vestia – An orb of incredible power. When thrown at an enemy the enemy and the surrounding landscape ruptures in a dazzling display of magical power. Long ago, there was to be a whole collection of these, but through centuries of strife there remains only one. As such it is reserved for only the direst of circumstances such as deadly demons or killer rabbits.
The Bow of Blood – This bow uses the wielder’s blood as arrows and is borderline black magic. The arrows do not miss their target. However, due to the blood price the bow is only allowed to be used by Valances whose faith is steady and hearts are pure - and whose constitutions are likewise up to the immense toll.
You need me not to describe the painstaking astronomical theories under which the power of the cosmos is projected unto the power of Akhrana. All but the most insignificant of beings are capable of the manipulation of Akhrana, and its minute details for which its implementation are used on Naika would be a fruitless and wasteful endeavour. Primarily, the main cause for concern in regards to the power of Akhrana would be in its incredibly tangible nature; By virtue of being found within every most being on Naika, the more powerful one's instruments in its use, the more its reverberations are echoed, until even the most minute actions by the most powerful of mages sends ripples throughout the world in ways they could never possibly forsee. I would hope not to remind you of the consequences of reckless use of Akhrana, but needless to say, any half-intelligent being would be mindful of the trail one leaves when engaging in the magics.
Decided i'd put these notes here, in the event anyone needs any headway when I make any of these things.
ECCLESIASTICAL NAMES: The original names for the continent of Hyusis come from Graeco-Armenian and other Early Semetic languages. This includes most of the names for planetary bodies, and the world of Naika itself. The Ecclesiastical language (High Alytian) is still predominantly spoken for religious and ceremonial purposes, and every self-respecting nobleman knows it; Many nobles do not even know the common languages of their holds in question, only speaking High Alytian and requiring manservants to translate their orders.
IMPERIAL NAMES: Given the multi-ethnic nature of the Ourani Empire, there's all combinations of nomenclatures that could be possible.
RHA-MARANESE / ELVEN NAMES: I've written Elves to use something based off of Baltic languages. High Elves would use a Western Baltic similar to Old Prussian while the Low Elves of Rha-Mara would use something apropos Old Lithuanian.
ORCISH NAMES: I used Northwest Turkic languages for my basis here, so think of Kazakh and Tatar.
Also, i've decided i'm gonna keep the 0th/setting post as sort of a "living" document that will preferably be updated as the RP progresses and new information is revealed.
So against my better judgement, i've gone ahead and set up a Discord for some quicker communication.
I still plan on the OOC being up tonight as the goal, but with the progress at hand - and the amount of people I have on board - it may be better to gather it all into one place that I can more readily access so I don't miss anything.
technically yes, sorry if my OC's backstory is a bit scuffed. basically my dude got reincarnated 2 times: first being a c-tier healer with zero plot armor that got him killed siding with some reckless heroes, then the latter when he became a basilisk lich siding with the demon lord. He is somewhat aware that he is in a isekai pingpong. Hopefully his experience will get him some redemption in his new life. if that makes sense?
Ah, I just wasn't quite sure reading it over. I had a feeling that was the case, but I usually like to confirm these sorts of things before I go making judgements.
Regardless, I think it's overall a pretty neat idea.
[h2]“There was a time when I was master of the universe. As I was staying ageless and motionless before my computer, flying untouched over human frenzy, cities rose and crumbled under my thumb, tiny people ran hurriedly to their death on the roads I had built and time flew at my command.
Then it all stopped, and I had to become one of those running specks. They call it 'life.'”[/h2]
[right][sub][i]Nicolas Combrexelle[/i][/sub][/right]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-h2">“There was a time when I was master of the universe. As I was staying ageless and motionless before my computer, flying untouched over human frenzy, cities rose and crumbled under my thumb, tiny people ran hurriedly to their death on the roads I had built and time flew at my command.<br><br>Then it all stopped, and I had to become one of those running specks. They call it 'life.'”</div><br><div class="bb-right"><sub><span class="bb-i">Nicolas Combrexelle</span></sub></div></div>
