This RolePlay is rated Mature for the usual suspects: Violence, Gore, Occult and Satanic references, Language, Sexual Situations, Nudity, and all things that fall therein. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!
The World as we see it - our History - is incomplete. The true picture has been cropped and cut to best protect the feeble minds of mankind, sheltering them from the cold and dark that twisted and constricted at the edges of their perception. Why do you think we mortals have an unexplainable fear of the dark and unknown? An innate distrust of what cannot be explained? Ever since we had discovered fire to protect us from what lurked in the shadows, we have huddled close to the flickering light of civilization, doomed to be snuffed out by the darkness that claws and slithers its way ever closer. Every creature that used to squat in the mud, grow in the night, and yet answers to Death’s Toll see themselves as the pinnacle of evolution. Parade themselves as the chosen of their one-and-only god, the chosen of Gaia, or some other such delusion of grandeur. Humans, Vampires, Shape-changers, even the ageless Sidhe fall into such trappings. It is the feeble defense of a mewling child before the eternal and inconceivable vastness of the Outer Darkness But not all is lost.
There have been those who stood valiantly, boldly, in the face of such voracious darkness throughout the ages. With the vastness of the world, ideology, and culture separating these courageous souls, they remained united by one singular purpose greater than all others – Preserve the Balance.
What is the Balance, you might ask?
The balance of the world we know and the world we do not. The secret world running parallel with the mortal world. A cosmic-level arcane forces that bind everything together, a balance of karma; Light and Dark, Creation and Void . Whenever the Balance tips, reality heaves. Fire falls from the skies, rivers run with blood, floods consume the planet, and plagues drag entire Empires to the Nevermore. The vigil kept by these fiery spirits is thankless and will at times fail, but without them, the world would be a dark and dismal place, uninhabitable by all but the strongest. The more the vigil grew, the more sophisticated they had to become, using a marriage of mortal and supernatural resources to keep both worlds in check. But the Vigils are merely weapons - a shimmering blade and a firm hand against the terror of the Nevermore. In a world where one is surrounded by secrets, knowledge is power. The power of prophecy, to See and Listen to the true nature of the world. Such is the burden and terrible power of the Oracles.
Oracles are mortals bestowed with vast knowledge of things peculiar, queer, and unnatural. Many are lost to the pages of history along with the rest of the secret world, but there are some who, during times of great upheaval, drew attention to the eternal struggle. Gilgamesh, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft – all of them were Oracles who spoke with the Vigil through their works, some of them even taking up the sword themselves. To be an Oracle is an ancient birthright as well as a curse. As one Oracle dies, the next will be born. An unspoken Law of the Balance is that there must always be five Oracles alive at one time. To break the chain of reincarnation would leave the world defenseless to the most sinister of threats from beyond. Despite the efforts of many down the aeons, the mantle of Oracle is not something that can be bred. It is something bestowed seemingly by Providence at birth. When an Oracle is born, a psychic shockwave is felt around the world, most potently by the others of their kind. They will begin experiencing the World-Dream as soon as their mind has matured enough to process such information; usually between 5-9 years of age, depending on the stage of mental maturation.
In 1935, at the rise of the National Socialist Party in Germany, one of the strongest Vigils in the world was brought under the rule of Heinrich Himmler. The Ahnenerbe lent their services to the Nazi party and in turn were provided with resources they needed to further their cause. The cause of the Ahnenerbe was to trace occultism to its primordial roots through any means, and discover how and why Oracles are made. They believed that peace could only be achieved by the eradication of the Nevermore, the Secret World, the shadowy realm from where all things mortals deem unnatural spawn from, and where all spirits go to when their life in the Mortal Realm ends. So obsessed with their cause, they delved into the Black Arts, forbidden by the Laws of the Vigil, and as a result spurred one of the bloodiest conflicts in human history.
The other Vigils met in secret, agreeing that by the Laws, the Ahnenerbe were to be ostracized and outcast, their names stricken from all records. They were labeled as traitors to the Balance and a threat to both worlds. As such, a new Vigil was made, one whose like had never been conceived before. It was called ‘Task Force Valkyrie’. From each of the Vigils, one member was to be offered to the ‘Valkyries’, the best they had. They would be entrusted with the means and authority to hunt the Ahnenerbe and any other Vigil that strays from the Laws, and terminate them. They were meant to be the keen edge of the Balance, to be thrust into the heart of any force from either side that sought to plunge the world into abandon.
Task Force Valkyrie was deployed to counter the expeditions of the Ahnenerbe and their terrible experiments with black magic and occult fringe science. The first time these two forces clashed was upon the misty hills of Karelia, by the White Sea, where the German Occultists were attempting to replicate ancient pagan spells from the local tribes. They would clash again in Tibet, Africa, and various other locations across the world fabled for their natural draw of supernatural power. While the Second World War raged, the Ahnenerbe and the Valkyries fought their own secret war of the occult. This is known to those with the Knowledge as the War of the Broken Vigil, or simply the Vigil War.
As World War II came to a close, the Ahnenerbe scattered, going underground and assumed destroyed before the Axis collapsed completely under the crippling weight of the Allies. With the Anenherbe defeated, the Valkyries had one grim duty left in order to maintain the Balance. While mostly unsuccessful, the SS Occult Division had succeeded in developing some near-Oracle beings, which of course, needed to be terminated as well as the research that had created them.
Onward from their founding, Task Force Valkyrie remained the iron fist of the Balance, tracking and hunting those who sought to bring about chaos through occult means. Should the other Vigils fail in their duty to protect the Oracles, the Valkyries will swoop in with cold steel and hot lead, much like their namesake. Should it be required, they may be called to terminate a rogue Vigil just as violently as they might burn out a Vampire nest.
The Valkyries are usually humans of either great skill, grit, or with some manner of special ability or item. Occasionally, non-human creatures can be brought on board as a member so long as they are not beings of magic, since magic tends to wreak havoc on technology. This means werewolves (and/or other shapeshifters), vampires (depending on the species), and other such worldly monsters of the flesh. Creatures from the Nevermore, including daemons, angels (or the combination of the two), and fae cannot be admitted because of their ethereal nature and general cavalier attitude towards mortals. One cannot be expected to defend those they ultimately have no care for in the grand scheme.
You are to be a Valkyrie: the first and final safeguard of both the World-That-Is-Known and the Secret World. The bastion against which the unnatural storms of ages break. They are an organization with roots back to the dawn of civilization, when mortals finally stood a chance against those who haunt in the dark. Unlike their cross-bearing cousins, it is not the place of the Valkyries to terminate the supernatural wherever it may be found. Their prerogative to use the Knowledge of Truth to turn a profit as the Illuminated Ones do, nor do they seek to open the eyes of the World to that which goes bump in the night No, it is the tireless vigil of a Valkyrie to maintain balance between Man and Monster, to keep the eyes of the world closed to the shadows that lurk within shadows so that the nightmare may pass. They are the last remaining Vigil to do so, and are loathed by many for it. Uncompromising and incorruptible in their purpose, they stand armed against the march of ages and the rising tides that wish to consume them, and in turn, the World.
This is tale is what can be best surmised as a military urban fantasy. You will fill the shoes of a Valkyrie - a specially trained and outfitted individual, mortal or otherwise, who is trusted with keeping the World of Man and the World of Monsters from destroying one another. The keys to this balance are the Five Oracles. There are only ever five in the world at a time, and it is through them that the greatest threats to Creation can be fought. Not all oracles will be on the side of the Valkyries, though. In fact, they may only get one, if they are so lucky. Think of the Valkyries’ Vigil as a lone candle in the darkness, burning on both ends. They are ultimately alone in their fight. While they may have their allies of convenience, when the chips are down, you can only really trust the brothers and sisters who bear the Mark of the Vigil (as seen at the top of the page.)
Spoiler: Armory
As one may expect, The Valkyries employ a vast armory of modern and antique weaponry, as well as a large collection of relics, foci, and other occult paraphernalia. You would be hard-pressed to find any other organized task force using a medieval sword alongside a cutting edge assault rifle. There are, of course, limitations depending on scarcity/rarity of relics and just how much the Valkyries can afford.
Runic Rifling - In the past hundred years or so, gun barrels have been grooved in order to put an addition topspin on bullets, increasing their overall accuracy. In the Valkyries, their weapon smiths have mastered the art, inlaying minuscule rune scrawls into the barrel. As the weapon is fired, the runes are carved into the bullet as it passes through the barrel, effectively enchanting the bullet. The downside of this is, of course, that each enchanted bullet draws from the user’s Anima - their power source. It will ultimately tire the user out in quick order if used in too-quick of a succession. As such, Runic Rifling is not common on automatic weapons.
Engraving/Relic Modification - Aside from making one’s weapon look pretty, engraving the weapon or adorning it with some manner of relic will endow it with some kind of constant effect. This requires a large Anima draw when the modifications are made, though their payoff is often lesser than something that requires the allotment of Anima for each use. Bullets and blades can also be engraved or endowed with relic properties as they are made.
Military Modifications - What would be considered standard military upgrades and modifications to weapons, but with a slight flare for the supernatural. Iron core rounds, silver-plated grenades, UV flashlights, and so forth.
[u]Foci[/u -] What many would consider a wizard’s tools of the trade. Foci are a means of channeling Anima/Arcane into physical energy, often activated by a spoken word. While any magi can manifest the Anima or Arcane without a foci, only the most disciplined can do so cleanly. The greater majority will have their spell fall out of control, or even backfire. Foci - staves, wands, rods, crystal balls, chains, essentially anything that can direct a magi’s power, are a way of directing and focusing their Anima.
These are simply examples. Feel free to take liberties so long as they are balanced.
Spoiler: Cosmic Forces
There are forces in creation that predate light and gravity, binding all that was made in the First Age together in the life-stream of magic. With the progression of the Ages, the primordial magic developed as life changed across the planes of reality.
Spoiler: Arcana
The Spark of Creation, the great light that mortals call the Big Bang. Arcana is the first and most primal power across existance. Flowing through the universe through the Greater Ley Lines, vibrance and vitality comes to all it touches. To dumb Magic of the Ley Lines down in quantifiable mundane terms, it is raw energy. Traveling along the Greater Ley Lines to every star and world and plane of existence, the Greater Lines bleed into the ley lines of other worlds.
Not dissimilar to how neurons fire in the brain, magic is carried along the ley lines, great and small, forming a base and universal connection between Earth and the rest of the cosmos. There is a reason why magic so often bows to the whims of planetary convergence and faces of the moon. All of the stars and and stones in the vast void share the same vital power: magic.
Some creatures walk among us who have experienced the Awakening. It can happen at any age to any race that has cognitive and sentient thought. It starts with a buzzing in the ears, low like a constant eardrum spasm, but it grows until your head feels like a hornet’s nest. Fever settles in, including the dreams. It lasts five days in total, starting and ending at three in the morning. Always at three. The Awakening has killed many, but those who pass through the crucible experience the Truth. What was once the buzzing becomes a harmonious song, something truly awesome in every biblical definition of the world.
To tap into the ley lines of Earth and Cosmos by the Art is to command the five primal elements of the universe – Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Where Anima is drawing upon the power of the Self, the Art is acting as a lightning rod for the powers of Arcana.
Spoiler: Anima
Anima has many names through the ages and across cultural borders. Some call it Chi, others Spirit or Faith. To put it simply, Anima is one’s vital energy – the power of the self. The harmonization of their spiritual and physical resonances with that of the cosmos, creating what is an aura, or a soul. There are those in the world who can actively tap into their Anima and manifest its power in a multitude of ways. Some may conjure up a firestorm with their Anima, others may use it to shift from woman to wolf, while another may use it to bolster their body to effectively become superhuman.
To tap into one’s Anima is such a way is tiring, though practice and effort will increase one’s threshold for continued use, just like exercising the body. Do so cautiously, though, for your Anima is your life-force. It is a spring that will refill over time, so long as it is not tapped dry. The fate of many untrained practitioners has been the over-draw of power, their own spell killing them through sheer exertion. To have one’s Anima extinguished is to have their soul destroyed.
Therefore, one can conclude that creatures of the undead and un-life do not have a source of Anima. They are essentially hollow husks, puppets on the strings of one with great power. There are certain arcane disciplines that allow one to draw - or feed - off of the Anima of others (some breeds of vampires are sustained as such) rather than simply using their own. Necromancers and Warlocks tend to use such tricks, and will often go mad in short order as a result. Anima is the soul of a person, all of their thoughts and memories and emotions. To tap into that is to see the life of another as you suck them dry, but through one’s own perception. Soon, the Warlock will not know which memories are theirs, and often develop multiple personalities.
Spoiler: Oracles
As stated in the preface, there are only ever five Oracles alive at one time in the world. As such, their roles in the story are very important, even exclusive. If you have any desire to play an Oracle, know that is will require lots of communication with me behind the scenes. Add-me-on-skype kind of collaboration. I will probably only allow one Oracle character in the roster, and that will go to whomever presents me the best Oracle sheet. Yes, it is an audition role, essentially.
Spoiler: That Which Goes Bump in the Night
Over the march of centuries, those that combat the darkness or maintain the Balance have developed a way of categorizing opponents, known and mysterious. As sciences advanced and intellectuals were brought into the fold of the various Vigils, there exists a completely valid branch of cryptozoology.
Spoiler: Hominids
Code: Mike: Mortal, Mundane, “Mundy”
Humans desperately seek the monsters among them, either literally or figuratively. Ironically, of all the monsters that call the Earth their home – most doing so since before Earth had such a name – none have done the planet such widespread harm as humans. Despite what some may have you think, Adolf Hitler was a human being, not some reptilian from the Core. Bin Ladin was a man under the influence of no greater demon than his own delusions and ambitions. Because of this, Hominids are listed in the Valkyrie Codex, taking into account the great diversity of human physiology and psychology, and how drastically one or both can change under the influences of the supernatural. To put in plainly, a Hominid is any threat that is of human origin to the Balance.
When facing a Code: Mike, many Vigils approach the situation with amateur cavalier, leading to unmarked graves and empty chairs at empty tables. By its nature, a Code: Mike implies that the threat is something more to warrant calling in a Vigil. Cultists performing a blood rite, necromancy, occupation of a ley line convergence, and possession of a dangerous relic all fall under a Code: Mike operation.
Spoiler: Cryptids
[i]Code: Foxtrot; Ferals
Called “creatures of the night” by the dramatic, despite few of them being exclusively nocturnal, Cryptids are animals that have existed in folklore and mythology, but never been concretely proven. Not all cryptids are innately magical, but they have something about them that makes them stand out from the standard flora and fauna of the Known World.
Being such a broad spectrum, Code: Foxtrot requires knowing what you are hunting to avoid becoming the hunted. Being creatures that have avoided concrete discovery in the modern world, cryptids have a high tolerance to many common toxins and poisons, and are often of a greater constitution than other animals of their size.
Spoiler: Anthrocryptids
Code: Alpha; Anthros, Abnormal, Abomination
Beings of legend and myth that are deserving of the fear and reverence they were paid in bygone times, anthrocryptids are the creatures that the limelight so dearly loves: vampire, werewolf, wendigo, sasquatch and so on. What separates a cryptid from a anthrocryptid falls to cognitive thought and modes of camouflage. On average, anthrocryptids are as smart as humans and can blend into human environments easily. Some, like the infamous bigfoot, cling close to their ancestral breeding grounds despite human expansion, but make themselves extremely difficult to seek out.
Much like the cryptids, a Code: Alpha incidents require much planning and preparation if time permits. Depending on the creature, they may have only particular physical weaknesses. Bring a big gun with the wrong ammunition, you may as well have brought a little-league bat. Marking the midway point between cryptids and hominids, anthrocryptids are considered high-threat when on the opposing side. Not only do they possess intelligent, sentient thought, but anthrocryptids also have a wide repertoire of physiological and magical boons, depending on the species.
Spoiler: Phantasms
Code: Echo; Ethereal
When a being dies, it’s Anima leaves an imprint on the physical and metaphysical fabric of our reality. This phantasm is an echo of what the person was and reflects how they died. A sweet old woman who passed away in her sleep will leave a miniscule imprint, able to be touched by those she knew through ritual or prayer, but sometimes not even able to respond. Should a bitter young man be run down and lynched for his orientation, that can result in something far different. Far more dangerous.
Little is known of Phantasms, as much of their being revolves around the greatest mystery to mortals: death. Scholars on the ethereal, including ectomancers and demonologists, have theory and formulae. However, if you ask ten different demonologists how best to deal with a phantom, you will get ten different answers… none of which may work, because of the phantom’s nature. Some particularly powerful Anima imprints or true crimes against humanity can spawn spectres of legend. The Revenant, Banshee, and Poltergeist are prime examples of a “phantasmic apex predator”.
Spoiler: Code: Croatoan
Coratoan is a moniker for something that has never before been encountered, or at least has no available record.
Spoiler: “Code: Omega”
CLASSIFIED
Spoiler: The Rules
I am GM, I am the Law
Don’t be a dick to your fellow players, but feel free to have your character be a dick [within reason].
I reserve the right to accept or deny character sheets as I see fit. There is no cookie-cutter, here. Make characters you want to play, but also make characters other players want to interact with.
This is not a “three strikes” RP. This is a “I will tolerate (X)” RP. If you make a few mistakes here and there, fine. If you royally screw the pooch once, pack your bags.
Try and post often, but more than quantity I want quality.
All RPA Rules & Regs apply.
No godmodding, no railroading, no powerplaying.
I will not accept characters that have a high chance of exploitation. You are free to submit character attempts until I tell you to stop. Chances are if you aren’t accepted within the first 3 tries, you aren’t getting in anyways.
Spell/grammar check please.
I reserve the right to add/change/remove rules as I see fit.
Character death is a threat. I like to think of myself as a good writer, unlike a certain author, and character death will be a meaningful thing. Not a gimmick. Expect poor decisions to be met with like consequences.
If you have read all the rules and you agree to abide by them, write “Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!” at the top of your character sheet.
Do not start your character with a call sign. It will be up to your peers to come to agreement and assign you one. For those assigning, be appropriate. Failure to take another player’s character seriously will be a bootable offense.
Have fun, damn you!
Spoiler: Valkyrie Mission Files
Spoiler: Prologue
October 31st, 2001 - 11:50 PM local time
In a time-lost city of sandstone and ancient rites, a woman is held captive in a cyclopean temple beneath the shifting sands of Egypt, bathed in the scintillating light of the gibbous moon. Heavy with child and in the throes of labor, she is guarded by dark-robed and red-masked cultists, clutching serpentine blades and automatic weapons. The woman, once a Valkyrie herself, is to be mother to the next Oracle.
The rest of the Valkyries strike like the Furies themselves, not only for the life of their friend and comrade, but for the rare chance to have an Oracle delivered into their grasp. Outnumbered, outgunned, and fighting on the enemies favored ground, they paid for every inch in blood and fury. Many fell, but not vainly. The shuddering of drums echoed through the dusty catacombs, making the air itself tremble in a cold and remembered terror. Breaching the antechamber of the temple, the Valkyries broke the ritual rites of the cultists' high priests with the wrath of the war gods themselves, spiriting their comrade her her unborn away in the night.
In the stifling night of Samhain, the mother passed into the Nevermore, giving the last of her Anima to bring the Oracle-child into the world. Carrying the child and her deceased mother away from the cursed place, the Vigil of the Valkyries continued, their burden heavier than ever before.
Note: If you wish to make a character with more of a veteran position, I would ask your RP sample involve this scenario in some way. If you wish to make a 'greener' character, you would not be part of this prologue.
Spoiler: Chapter One - Hearts of Darkness
The eyes, ears, and blogs of world media hungrily observed the United States. Tragedy following travesty in a “modern” society, violence and hatred begetting more of the same. Normally, the process of dealing with such horrors befalls local government and its devices, but to eyes graced by the Truth, patterns unfold that would be otherwise be lost to the mundane. While the ignorant hive-mind of the mortal masses coalesce a thin veneer of blissful ignorance to guard their minds from the Truth, the world teeters ever closer to the brink.
It is all connected. The madness creeping through the cracks, the degradation of the natural order. The crazed lone wolves ostracized by the pack are not so alone. Not without purpose. There is a method to their madness, an objective. A target. The Valkyries are called to Boston in the wake of yet another shooting, the alarm set off as Kassandra had her most violent vision yet.
Spoiler: Character Skeleton
Name: What you call yourself? Call-signs will be appointed to you. Joke’s on you.
Gender: Boy? Girl? Something in-between or far apart?
[b]Race/Species:[b] If you’re not human, how evident is it?
[Age (Real and apparent, if applicable): Are you fifty and look fifty? Are you twenty and look ninety?
Appearance: Please only use a picture if you’ve got something that perfectly describes your character, or you’ve had art commissioned of them, or you’ve drawn them yourself. Otherwise, give me a good description.
Personality: Broad strokes is fine, I don’t need to know every bawdy joke they like to tell. This should not just be a list of character traits; tell me how they see the world, how they think, how they act.
Powers, Traits, and Abilities: Let this cover supernatural powers, mundane skills, and whether or not they’re particularly good at shooting snot-rockets. As above, this should not only be a bulleted list of specific powers. Enough specificity to give me the shape of their abilities is good, a spreadsheet is not.
Standard Loadout: While equipment will vary depending on mission and situational parameters, every member probably has a select few items that they have on them at all times. This should include ‘signature’ weapons and any talismans, relics, or misc foci.
Note: I will not put a set limit on what your character may carry, but it should make sense. I won’t stop you if you want to have a staff, assault rifle, shotgun, hand-cannon, blasting rod, hand grenades, and a baby stroller… but you are going to have to live with carrying all of those in the IC, and I will laugh as you flounder. PS - I probably will stop you if you carry that much shit all the time. Sorry.
Background: Take this opportunity to show me where your character came from, why they became a Valkyrie. This can be a biography, a short story, a comic strip, or whatever.
And if there are parts of your character’s backstory you want to expose through the game, that’s fine. Surprises are always fun for everyone. If you have some ‘under the table’ stuff you want to include, PM me so it can be incorporated, also so I know you aren’t planning on making the descendant of Dagon, or something.
RP Sample: Yeah, you know the drill. 1-3 paragraphs minimum of your character doing something.
Props to Naril for the basis of this Character Skeleton
Spoiler: StormWolf's Character and NPCs
Spoiler: Nathan Hayder
Name: Nathaniel Hayder
Gender: Male
Race/Species: Human, Anglo-Saxon Caucasian
Age: 36; and due to years of diligent maintenance, he keeps himself at the apex of physical condition.
Spoiler: Appearance
-Character art in progress-
Nathan is a firmly built man of notable height and formidable build. Standing at a solid six feet and weighing in at 190 pounds of steely sinew, he is something of an imposing figure. Fair, tattooed skin is stretched over imposing ridges of musculed physique, cutting the rigid silhouette of a powerful individual without making the man appear ape-ish. Nathan sports masculine jaw and firm, handsome, even wolfish features – a strong nose and severe brow, all stony planes and angles. Settled into their sockets are eyes like chips of blue-grey ice; cold and severe in their gaze. Atop his head is a tightly cropped mane of sandy hair, shaved near the scalp at the back and sides, leaving enough at the top to style should the occasion arise. More often than not, Nathan will have a short beard upon his jaw. Borne not out of a fashion standpoint as much a neglect to regularly shave.
The Valkyrie Medics have estimated that roughly twenty-to-thirty percent of Nathan’s body is covered in scar tissue; old wounds inflicted by beast, blade, ballistics, and burns. It is a collection of badges of courage from his years among the Valkyries, and the Krypteia before that. Where scars do not tread, tattoos are often scrawled, nordic and celtic-druidic in origin and design - wards against possession and the five elements etched into his very flesh. To those with an inhuman sense of smell, or simply in an intimate proximity to the man, his is a heady scent of a man well-traveled; Nathan has a constant aroma of coffee, leather, cigar smoke, and Old Spice around him.
In his day to day, Nathan dresses himself as if constantly expecting to do some kind of taxing outdoor activity. Always in his steel toed boots, he often wears boot cut jeans or cargo pants with a light long sleeve shirt or a button-down shirt with rolled sleeves. On occasion, he’ll wear his aged leather jacket. Nathan’s operational gear is what one would expect from a modern military operative - full tactical gear, including Crye BDU pants and the new Crye Hitcoat ballistic armor. What sets him apart is his tactical rigs are leather, rather than nylon and kydex.
Spoiler: Personality
Nathan is a man of firm temperament. Emotionally stable despite the horrors experienced in the day-to-day, he finds camaraderie with his fellow Valkyries, but remains withdrawn and brusque beyond their tightly knit brotherhood. He is not one to trust easily, and whether a genuine display of apathy or a coping mechanism for the job, he takes a casual and cavalier attitude towards violence and the grotesque. Despite his resilience, he is only a mortal man, and turns to the crutch of stiff drink when the burdens grow too heavy to bear.
Towards the Oracle-child, Nathan is protective in the extreme, and can often be blamed for any attempts to spoil the child rotten. He knows the burden of the Oracles, and that one never really has the opportunity to live a normal life. So to counter-balance the horrible visions and nightmares that plague the Oracles, Nathan seeks to provide some manner of childish joy for the Oracle while he can.
Spoiler: Powers, Traits, and Abilities
Marksman: Ever since his upbringing in the Krypteia, he has always had a gun either in hand or within reach. At his current level of skill, Nathan can hit a target the size of a dinner plate at seventy yards with a black powder pistol. With a modern rifle, he can hit a target of the same size at around two hundred yards with little assisted aim.
Gladiator: Lethal up close as he is from afar, Nathan is skilled in close-quarters combat with a mixture of martial arts, armed and unarmed. His choice weapons at the intimate range are knives and short swords. While he would prefer to not get in a position where he is left with just his fists, he is considerably lethal with them.
Tolerance: Nathan is naturally tough as nails, as it is just the nature of his life and job. He can withstand terrible beatings and pains of the physical and metaphysical realms. Despite being only human, he can resist the most mental and spiritual torment while still withstand most of the tortures human minds have conjured through history short of anything involving fire. This tolerance stems from no supernatural power or ability, just rigorous mental discipline.
Anima Aegis: Channeling his Anima through an enchanted arm ring, Nathan can manifest a shield of arcane power. While it can stop most kinetic impacts, it does not protect him from auxiliary effects like extreme heat or cold. Being a shield of energy, and therefore translucent, it cannot protect him from bright flashes of light, either. The shield’s diameter is sufficient to protect him from waist to neck.
Anima Adrenaline: Charging his very body with the power of his Anima, Nathan increases his reaction time and physical threshold, allowing him to be faster and stronger than he could ever be without such an ability. Anima Adrenaline dulls pain and clears his mind of distraction, but it does not make him any more resilient to trauma. Anima Adrenaline is the most taxing on his Anima reserves as well as his body. The ‘coming down’ from such a high will usually leave him with shaking hands for a time until he can gather himself.
Reiki - With a peaceful place to rest and meditate, Nathan uses the oriental healing art of Reiki, or “laying on hands.” Doing so is a long process, and cannot be done in the midst of combat. In 8-10 hours of uninterrupted Reiki, Nathan can advance healing by a week.
Spoiler: Standard Loadout
Spoiler: Weapons
Geri and Freki are two of Nathan's prized possessions, gifted to him by Sullivan during Kassie's baby shower. Twin Desert Eagle Mk. 12's chambered for .44 magnum, fixed with muzzle brakes and extended magazines that carry 12 rounds. Geri stands chromed and sterling while Freki is coated black, both bearing polished wooden grips and scrolling, rune-engraving along the barrel. Rather than runic rifling, Nathan has a few magazines of specialty ammunition, specifically silver-jacketed shredder rounds, relic iron slugs, and “saint slugs”. Always close at hand, Geri is holstered under Nathan's left armpit while Freki sits waiting at Nathan's left hip.
HK 416 - Though he only takes this weapon on full tactical operations, Nathan loves his HK. With a 10.5 inch barrel and quad rail system, the rifle is loaded with a holographic sight, magnifier scope, foregrip, and a UV combat light. The rifle hangs from a paracord yoke sling around his chest, and it has a suppressor as an option.
Nemaeus- Ever since the first boys of the Krypteia came of age, it has been tradition for the candidates to forge their own blades in the bubblic, volcanic heart of Methana. Even in modern times, the tradition persists. Gathering his own materials and rowing to Methana peninsula on his lonesome, Nathan sought out the forge-priests of the Krypteia. Entering the Crucible at the peninsula’s volcanic heart, Nathan forged Nemaeus from relic irons upon the great anvil of Hephaestus. Practiced magi and Anima Spectres from the Nevermore can resist the blade by layering and bolstering their defenses. Being made of layered damask steel, the weapon is an effective tool against ghosts, Fae, and other Nevermore denizens. The sheath, and therefore the blade, are secured to his back via a leather bandolier, the sword’s grip protruding over his right shoulder.
Sawed-off 1887 Winchester Shotgun - Keeping Nemaeus company on his back is a sawed-off lever action shotgun, chambered for 10 gauge shells. The only thing Nathan has that is anything of an heirloom. The barrel is cropped as short as it can go, making it a great weapon for close quarters. The lever is pure iron, engraved with runes and sigils of divine geometry.
Spoiler: Talismans
Aegis Arm Band - An old norse torc of braided silver, engraved with runes of protection, serving as a foci for Nathan to make his Anima Aegis. The arm ring is clamped around left wrist. The greater the strain put on the Anime Aegis, the hotter the arm ring will get, to the point of Nathan’s left forearm bearing several burn scars.
Spoiler: Background
Nathan was born into a Vigil, though not one as progressively minded as the Valkyries. On the eve of his seventh birthday, Nathan was handed to the oldest of the Vigils: the Krypteia. His upbringing was Spartan, to say the least, trained to fight the world of the Occult on all sides. To him, monsters were the face of the enemy, nothing but rabble to be subjugated, reminded of their place below humankind. It was in his first assignment at the age of seventeen that had Nathan and a squadron of fellow Kryptei raid a nest of Sirens who had occupied a sacred Atlantean acropolis. Their task was simple - kill anything that moved. To a virginal combatant with delusions of honor, the horrors of the act he and his kin were to commit was lost until the shots started firing. The raid took place in the heart of autumn, when the Pod had just brought young into the world – the den effectively a nursery. Where Nathaniel’s Brothers and Sisters shot, chopped, and burned, the young Aspirant was frozen with a soul-crushing horror. His belief, his spirituality, and his loyalty crushed under the boot heel of Krypteia brutality.
Upon returning to the Grand Acropolis, Nathan made plans to spirit himself away. Taking only the clothes on his back, his shotgun, and his blade, Nathan ran. He was almost on his own for a year before the Valkyries picked him up, a dirty and desperate vagabond with a very particular set of lethal skills. With their numbers light in that time, he was quickly accepted into their fold, proving to be a valuable asset, quickly finding his footing among them. With the Valkyries, he was not commanded to wantonly murder the the innocent – monster or not. He was a weapon with a just purpose, and against those deserving his learned wrath, they suffered it in full. In a few years, they were all as family. Such is the way of the Valkyries.
He was dear friends with Miranda, the would-be mother to the Oracle-child, and as such, he was one of the first into the fray to extract her from the Cult of the Red Masque. When she perished, he was wounded deeply. As part of his promise to Miranda, he took the Oracle-child under his care. Though being the ripe age of 22 at the time, he knew nothing about raising a child, so the Valkyries veteran members co-operated to ensure the Oracle was properly prepared when the time came.
Fourteen years later, Nathan is a well-oiled machine of occult warfare. His severity had been tempered by his role of guardianship over the Oracle-child, turning him away from brash decisions that he would have otherwise pursued.
Spoiler: RP Sample
If there was ever another reason to hate the sand, this night had given Nathan all the reasons he would ever require. Miranda had been taken right from under their noses on maternity leave. Her guard detail wiped out. It had all lead up to this moment - the eve of Samhain in some forgotten corner of Egypt, amongst partially unearthed ruins that predated any of the pyramids. Peering over a gargantuan slab of hieroglyph-carved limestone, Nathan surveyed the opposition. Clad in dark robes and sanguine masks, the Cultists of the Red Masque sported the usual go-to for the sandbox - AKs.
The past fifty hours of sleeplessness had Nathan in a wrathful mood, driven by desperation, more than anything. Nerves were tense, a twisting knot in place of his stomach. Easing back the bolt on his rifle, then letting it snap back, Nathan took a few preparatory breaths.
"On my mark," he said into his throat mic. "3... 2... 1. Engage." Rolling out of cover, Nathan snapped his sight up to the nearest hostile. Finger depressing on the trigger, three thunderclaps filled the air as hot lead spilled from the barrel to tear jagged holes in their ordained target. Before the first body even hit the ground, Nathan had zeroed in on the next scarlet-masked combatant, placing a round directly through the eye hole.
Blood spilled to the sands of Egypt, black in the muted light of the full moon. Shouts raised as the telltale rattle of Kalashnikov fire attempted to repay Nathan in kind. Ducking and diving for the nearest cover, Nathan pressed his back to a jagged and crumbling wall of limestone.
"Valkyrie-Two, this is Valkyrie-One. You are go for advance, over."
"Roger Valkyrie-One, Valkyrie-Two is bringing the thunder. Over and out."
The dune opposite Nathan's position came to life with flickering lights, followed by the crackling of yet more gunfire. Rising to a knee and leaning around his cover, Nathan squeezed off a few more rounds, dropping two more cultists.
"Valkyrie-One, this is Valkyrie-Five. We have a man down and hostiles closing in. Over!" Peering over the rise of a slanted set of ruins, Nathan saw the murky shadow-shapes of his comrades, one of them slumped against a crumbling staircase.
"Ten-four, Valkyrie-Five. On the way." Nathan replied. Dropping his rifle to its sling, he drew out his pistol, flicking the safety off with a casual flexing of his thumb. Pulling a flash-bang from his flak vest, Nathan tossed the primed charge around the corner of his cover before readying his Aegis Ring. A flash and a deafening boom followed the four count of the fuse. That was Nathan's window.
Sprinting across the opening, Nathan channeled his Anima into the twisted silver ring of metal around his wrist. A dome of faint blue light grew from Nathan's wrist. Sparks flew up from the shield's outfacing surface as oncoming bullets disintegrated against the crackling energy of his barrier. Flying across the sand at a dead sprint, firing off pot-shots at exposed enemies as he went, Nathan was easily violating several handfuls of military regulation. Then again, not many military regulations included having a shield of pure energy at one’s wrist, or magic bullets.
Sullivan "Sage" Singer is a silver fox of a man, color long since fled from his hair and luscious mustache. His earthen-green eyes alight with intellect and humor, Sullivan takes a relaxed approach to most things. The older members of the Valkyries know the man very well, and they are right to fear him, for within him is the soul of a tiger. Ferocious and savage with a cunning, murderous intellect.
Sage is the current head of the Valkyries, the pinnacle of rank among their order, and rarely ever enters the field anymore due to the lingering pains of old wounds. He holds down the fort of the Valkyries' primary base, known as The Rampart. It is an old castle on the rocky coast of rural northern Scotland, a place he has turned into his private study of all things occult. The only way in or out of The Rampart is by helicopter, scaling the jagged cliffs, or brave the lethal bottleneck of the main road. The untamed wilderness around the Rampart for leagues is cluttered with landmines and lethal defensive Wards.
The Rampart is a sturdy and stubborn structure, of the strongest stones from Scotland's bosom upon the jagged cliffs. Originally constructed in the early 1700s, the Rampart has served as protector against many aggressors besides the bitter elements of the Highlands. The architecture is bold and opulent, its original owners apparently of great wealth and power, as well as a knowledge of the occult. The Rampart, aside from being in a prime defensive locale, happens to be situated directly in the path of a large Ley Line - one of the natural magical superhighways upon which the world's Anima travels.
The Rampart is built not only for comfort, but also defensibility. Thick walls have worn the weather of ages, as well as two world wars and several occult incursions that will never be known to the general public. In addition to the main building, the Rampart has secondary lodging - once the serfs quarters - for VIPs that wish to have their privacy. There is also a walled garden, sizable fountain with live fish, and additional auxiliary structures for general storage, though one has been re-fitted into a gym.
In the main hall of the Rampart, the Valkyries keep diligent watch over the Oracle – or at least as best as they can manage – while attending their day-to-day duties. All necessary accommodations are filled in earnest to the point of luxury. The primary tower is where Sullivan conducts his business, always in view of the sea, while keeping company to a private library with the Lore Keeper. In addition, there is an expansive armory, laboratory, mechanic workshop, firing range, and garage all built into a subterranean complex.
The castle's lands are massive, surrounded by several leagues of untamed forest with a few small towns scattered within its domain. The villages are primarily farming villages that have provided for the Rampart since it rose, and continued to do so with freshly grown crops, free-range meats, and [most importantly] local microbrew beer. The villages surrounding the Rampart are all of a special stock, dedicated to the Rampart's lords for over 200 years. Sullivan Singer hosts a festival in the castle garden at each solstice to celebrate the season with the village folk, for the village folk.
Kassie is short, only about 5 feet tall, and has a slender petite form only weighing about 110 lbs. Though she is still young, she hasn't grown in a year or two so it's expected that she won't grow much taller. She has very bright green eyes that reflect back a wisdom too old for one so young, but such is the burden of an oracle. In contract to her bright green eyes, long, wavy, messy hair tumbles midway down her back. The Valkyrie, and Nathan in particular, are always telling her she should cut it shorter or at least put in up for practicalities sake, but childish frivolity and the innate need to be in control of something normal in her life, causes her to "disappear" whenever anyone tries to take a serious step at cutting it. Only to have her reappear, once the moment has past. While her eyes give her the look of being older, she still retains some of her "baby fat" making her face only slightly round. Her body, as mentioned before is really petite, but it shows the curves of a young woman.
Kassie is also more fashionably inclined than a majority of the Valkyrie and tends to dress with the current trends for her age, again one of the few normal things in her life that she clings too. So she tends to dress in leggings and longer tunic shirts, unless she's training with Nathan when she grudgingly wears something a little more sturdy in sweatpants and a t-shirt, or light leather armor when they are sparing.
Spoiler: Personality
Kassie, while being trained by and living with the Valkyrie all her life, is still the typical teenager. She can be moody and sullen and then happy, curious, and helpful all within a two minute span, which drives nearly everyone insane on a regular basis. She'd started having the World-Dreams at around the age of 6 and so with a combination of that responsibility at a young age and the constant influx of information from the dreams (which she had no idea how to deal with), she started minor rebellions against a fate that she felt was against her. That's not to say she didn't begin to understand the importance of her "gift" as it was referred to by the members of Valkyrie, more like a curse in her mind, she just felt that it was unfair that it had to be her to get this ability when she wanted nothing more than to just be normal.
Spoiler: Powers, Traits, Abilities
*World Dreams- the power of prophecy and knowledge given as a birth right to all oracles
*Tarot Reading - First it started as an obsession and interest she had as a young child, it quickly turned into her way of interpreting and sharing the knowledge imparted to her by the world dreams. It was only through trial and error that this was found to be her outlet for the dreams
*Anima Mind - Telekinesis - part of her training to control her anima and thus the dreams. Kassie can move small items quickly and with precision using her mind. She has begun moving about medium sized items, but the movement is slower and not nearly as clean
*Novice Martial Artist- Another skill that she is currently training in, under the teaching of Nathan. At first it had begun in order to get the Valkyrie of her back about learning self-defense in the case of an emergency, she has now begun to understand just how helpful learning to use hand-to-hand combat and a staff can be. She's now actually enjoys her lessons, minus Nathan throwing her to the ground so often
*Experimenter/Scientist - One of her real joys, Kassie enjoys working with the Valkyrie scientist and engineers who take mortal weapons and improve them to help against keeping the balance
Spoiler: Standard Loadout
*Tarot Deck - Her deck is a more modern interpretation of the traditional Rider-White deck
*Collapsible Runed Quarterstaff- Silver plated staff with runes carved to aid in additional speed and strength
*Foci – Silver Charm Braclet with runes focusing on “control”, “mind” and “air” to aid with her telekinesis, and a fourth charm that she doesn't know what it means
*Mother's ring - Miranda's ring, the only thing she has left of her mother's besides the stories told to her by Nathan
Spoiler: Background
Kassie was born on October 31st to Miranda Haywood, a member of the Valkyrie. It was only later that she heard of everything that happened on the night she was born. How her mother had been captured by a cult in an effort to gain the next Oracle and how her friends had managed to save her, only for her to die in childbirth.
Nathan was the one who took the most charge in raising Kassie as she grew older, but mostly she was raised under an “It takes a village” mentality, with everyone chipping in. She grew like a normal healthy child. It wasn’t until 6 when she began having the World Dreams that she truly started to become an oracle. At first she had no idea what was happening and was terrified to the point of that she refused to sleep until Nathan gave her a little stuffed bear to sleep with telling her that when she was awoken because of a dream, to whisper the dream to the bear and it would go away. It helped a little, but Kassie still didn’t ever want to sleep. The Valkyrie were all concerned and began to try and help her find ways of sharing the dreams, hoping that it would relive her stress. They tried painting, drawing, writing, singing, song writing, everything, until one day someone brought in a deck of tarot cards as an almost last resort, never thinking that they would help. Kassie took to the cards almost immediately fascinated by the pictures. For a six year old, she was focused on learning the meaning of the cards and how to read them and soon the dreams didn’t bother her anymore. It was like they had stopped.
With coming of age, in the oracle sense, the Valkyrie decided it was time for Kassie to start studying other things, including anima of the mind more specifically Telekinesis and at Nathan’s insistence hand-to-hand combat and staff use. She also had “normal” classes, math, science, English, and history, well a class on the true history, not the stuff that mortals taught in their schools. It was only at about the age of 12 or 13 that Kassie began to rebel a little, tired of all the restrictions that were imposed on her. She never got to leave the Valkyrie’s home base in Scotland, but she heard the stories about what was on the outside of the walls from the other children who also lived there. They were the children of the other Valkyrie members. They went to school down the road, instead of being forced to learn at the castle alone. They went out shopping for new clothes together or to get Ice cream from the Ice cream parlor in town. All things Kassie had never done. Hearing about it only made Kassie angrier at her situation. She tried several times to sneak out the gates, only to always be caught. One time Nathan had caught her trying and she’d never seen him so angry with her, but it didn’t deter her from continuing to try. She skipped her lessons on occasion. The only place she didn’t act out was in the laboratories and that was because one she was genuinely interested in what they created there and two she knew that if she were to make trouble the Valkyrie who ran the place would quite literally throw her out and never allow her back. So Kassie continued to make trouble elsewhere in the base, at first little things, but as she continued to feel resentment and anger at being stuck there it was bound to become worse.
Spoiler: RP Sample
Kassie snuck down the hallways of the castle. It was night and she was attempting to sneak out of the castle again. She’d heard from a group of the others her age that there was going to be a party down in town tonight and she was going to get out and attend this one if it was the last thing she did. She made it out of the main building fine and was sneaking along in the shadows at the bottom of the walls. She was heading for one of the side doors out of the walls as the main gate was always well lit at all times of the day.
Kassie pressed herself against the wall and holds her breath as she heard footsteps along the rampart above her. She’d have to be careful. She didn’t want to be caught again. It was humiliating to get caught every time, though if she’d stop to think about why she was always caught she’d probably come to the realization that all the guards were watching for her specifically. Not only Nathan mentioning it to them, but also because she’d tried several times at this point and it was becoming predictable. The closest she’d ever gotten was that first time she’d tried. Nevertheless, Kassie continued along the wall quietly, dressed in a cute, short dress. Something similar to what she’d seen the other girls wearing as they left the castle laughing. She gritted her teeth as her anger as she got nearer to the door that she was going to attempt to get out of.
Why can’t I be like the other kids? Why do I have to be this Oracle? I didn’t ask to be the Oracle! Kassie put her hand on the door, a smile on her face. There was no one around. She’d finally made it out. She was going to go have a good night at that party and be normal for once. Just a normal girl. The door made a quiet clicking noise as the handle turned and she pulled the door open. And then that little happiness she’d just felt fell into the bit of her stomach. Nathan was standing there in the doorway, his arms crossed, looking at her sternly.
“Shit.” She said quietly. Of all the people to catch her….Nathan was the last she wanted to see. She was in deep trouble.
[b]Race/Species:[b] Werewolf; except for his eyes he appears as an extremely fit human.
Age:
Real: 92
Apparent: 27
Appearance:
Human: Ken is a wall of yellow skinned muscle that stands a little over five feet eight inches. He keeps his head shaved, though has been known to let the raven colored hair grow to about a quarter inch in length. His bushy oft angled eyebrows give his golden hued eyes a sunken look. Ken keeps most of his upper lip shaved bare. Long mustaches grow from above the corner of his mouth, hanging to about an inch below his chin. From his chin hangs two inches of braided beard. His left eyebrow has a white stripe, a quarter inch in width, half way through it. Beneath it hides a scar from his youth. His typical attire outside of combat is tee or muscle shirt, a pair of cargo pants and his combat boots.
Hybrid form: In this form Ken towers at eight and a half feet. His limbs and the trunk of his body lengthen, taking on lupine characteristics. The color of his fur matches that of his hair in human form. His elongated canine head bears the same white stripe above the left eye. His fingernails and teeth extend into lethal weapons. reference image
Wolf form: Ken is indistinguishable from a large grey wolf in this form.
Personality: Ken's typically stoic expression hides a boisterous, fun loving, intelligent mind. Ken's always ready to drop a few (hundred) dollars at the local bar with friends and comrades. Nor is he above pulling the occasional prank on those same people.
But woe be upon him who raises this werewolf's ire. Ken is not the forgiving sort, he's perfectly fine carrying a grudge for someone who has offered actual insult or harm. When his duty allows, nothing would stop him from pursuing his vengeance.
Powers, Traits, and Abilities:
Traditionally Trained: The Chinua-Borjigin clan maintain the ancient traditions of the Mongolian people. Ken was trained in the art of archery and horsemanship, as well as in the use of the sword.
Modern Warfare: After finishing his training with his clan, and experiencing his first transformation Ken was employed by the local vigil where he received training with modern arms and armor.
Heightened senses: Even in his human form Ken has the olfactory and hearing senses equivalent to a wolf. He can even see (Albeit not in color) in low light, as well as he could mid day.
Accelerated healing: Ken begins healing from all mundane wounds almost immediately. Woulds caused from magic heal at a slightly slower rate and those caused by silver heal at what most humans would consider normal speeds.
Enhanced speed and strength: As a werewolf Ken is naturally faster and stronger then he was as a human. His enhanced strength and speed are gifts that bleed over from the monstrous power of his hybrid form. Ken at full speed can run up to 40 mph and can lift up to a thousand pounds.
Shape shifting: As a werewolf Ken has the ability to shift between three forms. Of his three forms his Hybrid form drains his anima to a point of exhaustion. At which point his body will attempt to regress to his human form. With great effort Ken can hold the hybrid form, but will require an extended rest. The transformation to wolf will drain a large portion of his Anima, but holding the form will not.
Standard Loadout:
Armor: Ken wears a specially designed set of Level III Dragonskin armor. The armor is designed to easily come off should he have to alter his shape.
Weapons:
Spoiler: Turco-Mongol Sabre
Ken wears his great grandfathers Turco-Mongol sabre, it was given to him when he left the clan. The Turko-Mongol saber has a long, curved blade with a single cutting edge.
Spoiler: Mongol bow
As part of his training Ken learned how to make a traditional mongol bow. After leaving the clan he made another using parts and techniques available only through modern technology. The Mongol bow is a recurved composite bow, and ken uses it with deadly efficiency when stealth is required on his part.
Spoiler: rune rifiled Barrett XM109
The Barrett XM109 is a prototype anti-materiel rifle and grenade launcher. Each shot inscribes the bullet with a number of holy emblems. Ken carries this weapon when he is assigned to overwatch, or when intel provides information that high level threats would be present in the operation area.
Spoiler: Barrett M468
This is Ken's primary firearm, in assault situations. The Barrett M468 is a variant of the M4 Carbine, rechambered for a heavier and larger 6.8mm bullet for increased terminal performance.
Spoiler: Beretta M9
This is Ken's secondary firearm for assault. The Beretta M9, officially the Pistol, Semiautomatic, 9mm, M9, is a 9×19mm Parabellum pistol adopted by the United States Armed Forces
Background: Genghis Khan claimed that he was the son of a wolf. During his life the great emperor ever allowed anyone to paint his portrait, sculpt his image or engrave his likeness on a coin, so no one actually knows what he really looked like. Additionally no one knows how he died or where he is buried, well almost no one; The vigils know.
The Chinua-Borjigin clan is an off shoot of the Borjigin clan, the clan of the great Khan. And while Temujin never turned, a few of his siblings did. They took oaths to protect the emperors people. An oath they continue to uphold till today by working with the vigils.
Khoonbish was born with the potential to become a werewolf. Thus he was trained in the traditions of his ancestors. After the completion of his training, Ken's life seemed to lead him down a somewhat normal path. Then fate intervened and shortly after his twenty-seventh birthday Khoonbish lived up to his name, and became something that was not a human.
After receiving training on controlling his new found abilities Ken joined the Vigil his clan was a part of as a guardian. He was then trained in modern weaponry. While he worked under the jurisdiction of the vigil Ken encountered and occasionally worked alongside the Valkyries. He earned their respect and was eventually recruited to join their ranks.
Spoiler: RP Sample:
Khoonbish walked the halls of the great tomb of Burkhan Khaldun wiping the blood from his eye. This sparring match with his cousin was more brutal then those before. Khoonbish didn't understand why his cousin was more aggressive then in previous bouts. Nor did he understand why there were more trainers keeping a closer eye on the contest. Giving his cousins aggressive behavior however, Khoonbish was pleased to have left the ring with only a split eyebrow.
As he approached his room he thought back to the last time he slept under the open sky. Khoonbish remembered it as being cooler on the plains. Slipping into his room he reached out and toggled the door lock. His exercises were finished for the day, he would not be leaving his room again til morning.
The young man stopped in front of the chipped mirror in his room, leaning towards it he studied the stitches in his eyebrow. A shame his first scar would be hidden under the hair he thought to himself, before wondering again at the heat in the normally cool chamber. Khoombish poured himself a glass of water and drank it thirstily.
Taking the ewer in both hands he raised it to his lips and began to chug the water. Khoombish didn't even hear the crash as the pottery slipped from his hands. Pain had erased all his sense. Clutching at his side, Khoombish could feel the heat flowing off his body. I've been poisoned raced through his mind as he was again racked with incredible pain.
His cry of anguish echoed back at him in the tiny room. Khoombish felt as though his flesh was on fire. Felt as though his muscles were being stretched and twisted. Just as he felt he could take no more pain it worsened. As a horrifying cracking sound filled the air Khoombish felt every bone in his body explode.
The Mongolian lay on the floor writhing in pain. The screams of the damned filled his room as his body elongated. As the minutes passed, the screams of anguish turned into guttural growls and finally an ear piercing howl. The creature clambered to its feet and howled again.
In the tortured remnants of Khoonbish's mind, he realized what he was. However he was overwhelmed by anger. An anger that lead to destruction.
Khoonbish regained control of his body, and his consciousness hours later. The destruction that met his eyes gave life to the nightmare. The sound of the warped door unlocking drew Khoonbish back from the pit of shock he had stood on the edge of. The werewolf's eyes rose to the face of the elder standing in the door frame. "Come pup," The elder said, "Time to renew your training."
I'm going to try this again while making something else.
Are Hermaphrodites okay? And having a character that is half-something not nice? Or perhaps possessed?
Spoiler: Things I like
Spoiler: Quotes
I would rather have a russet coated Captain who knows what he fights for and loves what he knows, than he who calls himself a gentleman and is but little else
-Oliver Cromwell
War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.
-John Stuart Mill
There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare.
-Sun Tzu
Ten soldiers wisely led will beat a hundred without a head.
-Euripides
It seems like such a terrible shame that innocent civilians have to get hurt in wars, otherwise combat would be such a wonderfully healthy way to rid the human race of unneeded trash.
-Fred Woodworth
It is our duty still to endeavor to avoid war; but if it shall actually take place, no matter by whom brought on, we must defend ourselves. If our house be on fire, without inquiring whether it was fired from within or without, we must try to extinguish it.
-Thomas Jefferson
If a man dedicates his life to good deeds and the welfare of others, he will die unthanked and unremembered. If he exercises his genius bringing misery and death to billions, his name will echo down through the millennia for a hundred lifetimes. Infamy is always more preferable to ignominy.
-Fabius Bile
Spoiler: Thoughts of the day
A broad mind lacks focus.
A questioning servant is more dangerous than an ignorant heretic
A small mind is easily filled with faith.
A warrior's faith in his commander is his best armour and his strongest weapon.
Adamantium walls and plasteel bulkheads may seem formidable, but an unshakable faith in the Immortal Emperor of Man can overcome any barriers.
An Empty Mind Is A Loyal Mind
An open mind is like a fortress with its gate unbarred and unguarded.
Better crippled in body than corrupt in mind.
Consider the Predator. Let your soul be armoured with Faith, driven on the tracks of Obedience which overcome all obstacles, and armed with the three great guns of Zeal, Duty and Purity.
Facts are chains that bind perception and fetter truth. For a man can remake the world if he has a dream and no facts to cloud his mind.
Faith without deeds is worthless.
Happiness is a delusion of the weak
Forgiveness is a sign of weakness.
He who lives for nothing is nothing. He who dies for the Emperor is a hero.
If a man dies that another should live, that man's spirit shall eat at the Emperor's table
Innocence proves nothing
It is better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself.
Leniency is a sign of weakness!
Mercy is a sign of weakness.
No man that died in the Emperor's service died in vain.
Nobody is innocent, there are merely varying levels of guilt.
Only in death does duty end.
Only the insane have strength enough to prosper. Only those who prosper may truly judge what is sane.
Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind
Purge those who are unclean.
Sometimes the good must perish so that the rest survive. The lot of courage is to be sacrificed upon the altar of battle.
Survival is no birthright, but a prize wrested from an uncaring galaxy by forgotten heroes.
The common man is like a worm in the gut of a corpse, trapped inside a prison of cold flesh, helpless and uncaring, unaware even of the inevitability of its own doom.
The Emperor will not judge you by your medals and diplomas but by your scars.
Though silver in your palms weighs light
Compared to death by blast and sword,
Do not shy the hopeless fight,
For endeavour is its own reward.
Hermaphroditus is an extremely rare condition, unless it is somehow part of the species traits. Define "something not nice", and no possession unless it is something like a Spirit or Fury. Something the Valkyries can manage. The warding on the Rampart would keep out most phantasms unless the person playing host has a pendant to permit safe passage.
A spirit would be about right, a dark, evil spirit, and the Hermaphrodite condition would be the result of the possession.
Spoiler: Things I like
Spoiler: Quotes
I would rather have a russet coated Captain who knows what he fights for and loves what he knows, than he who calls himself a gentleman and is but little else
-Oliver Cromwell
War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.
-John Stuart Mill
There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare.
-Sun Tzu
Ten soldiers wisely led will beat a hundred without a head.
-Euripides
It seems like such a terrible shame that innocent civilians have to get hurt in wars, otherwise combat would be such a wonderfully healthy way to rid the human race of unneeded trash.
-Fred Woodworth
It is our duty still to endeavor to avoid war; but if it shall actually take place, no matter by whom brought on, we must defend ourselves. If our house be on fire, without inquiring whether it was fired from within or without, we must try to extinguish it.
-Thomas Jefferson
If a man dedicates his life to good deeds and the welfare of others, he will die unthanked and unremembered. If he exercises his genius bringing misery and death to billions, his name will echo down through the millennia for a hundred lifetimes. Infamy is always more preferable to ignominy.
-Fabius Bile
Spoiler: Thoughts of the day
A broad mind lacks focus.
A questioning servant is more dangerous than an ignorant heretic
A small mind is easily filled with faith.
A warrior's faith in his commander is his best armour and his strongest weapon.
Adamantium walls and plasteel bulkheads may seem formidable, but an unshakable faith in the Immortal Emperor of Man can overcome any barriers.
An Empty Mind Is A Loyal Mind
An open mind is like a fortress with its gate unbarred and unguarded.
Better crippled in body than corrupt in mind.
Consider the Predator. Let your soul be armoured with Faith, driven on the tracks of Obedience which overcome all obstacles, and armed with the three great guns of Zeal, Duty and Purity.
Facts are chains that bind perception and fetter truth. For a man can remake the world if he has a dream and no facts to cloud his mind.
Faith without deeds is worthless.
Happiness is a delusion of the weak
Forgiveness is a sign of weakness.
He who lives for nothing is nothing. He who dies for the Emperor is a hero.
If a man dies that another should live, that man's spirit shall eat at the Emperor's table
Innocence proves nothing
It is better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself.
Leniency is a sign of weakness!
Mercy is a sign of weakness.
No man that died in the Emperor's service died in vain.
Nobody is innocent, there are merely varying levels of guilt.
Only in death does duty end.
Only the insane have strength enough to prosper. Only those who prosper may truly judge what is sane.
Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind
Purge those who are unclean.
Sometimes the good must perish so that the rest survive. The lot of courage is to be sacrificed upon the altar of battle.
Survival is no birthright, but a prize wrested from an uncaring galaxy by forgotten heroes.
The common man is like a worm in the gut of a corpse, trapped inside a prison of cold flesh, helpless and uncaring, unaware even of the inevitability of its own doom.
The Emperor will not judge you by your medals and diplomas but by your scars.
Though silver in your palms weighs light
Compared to death by blast and sword,
Do not shy the hopeless fight,
For endeavour is its own reward.
The spirit would be expelled from the host once it hit Rampart Wards, and if it didn't, one of the Valkyries would have done their job. I don't see how the hermaphrodite condition is necessary or makes any kind of sense. Generally, the ethereal cannot morph or mutate the corporeal. It can add onto it with ectoplasm and whatnot, but as soon as the spirit goes, the additions fall away in slime. This is usually like tentacles, claws, pincers, or other weaponized components that would be useful for the host.
I don't see how Hermaphroditus gives any kind of edge or advantage other than being a special snowflake.
well, from everything I've seen in movies and stuff, the possessed does physically change.
It's just something I think is cool, and I like playing hermaphrodites, is it so wrong?
And what about those pendants you mentioned. I thought I'd have one of them.
Spoiler: Things I like
Spoiler: Quotes
I would rather have a russet coated Captain who knows what he fights for and loves what he knows, than he who calls himself a gentleman and is but little else
-Oliver Cromwell
War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.
-John Stuart Mill
There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare.
-Sun Tzu
Ten soldiers wisely led will beat a hundred without a head.
-Euripides
It seems like such a terrible shame that innocent civilians have to get hurt in wars, otherwise combat would be such a wonderfully healthy way to rid the human race of unneeded trash.
-Fred Woodworth
It is our duty still to endeavor to avoid war; but if it shall actually take place, no matter by whom brought on, we must defend ourselves. If our house be on fire, without inquiring whether it was fired from within or without, we must try to extinguish it.
-Thomas Jefferson
If a man dedicates his life to good deeds and the welfare of others, he will die unthanked and unremembered. If he exercises his genius bringing misery and death to billions, his name will echo down through the millennia for a hundred lifetimes. Infamy is always more preferable to ignominy.
-Fabius Bile
Spoiler: Thoughts of the day
A broad mind lacks focus.
A questioning servant is more dangerous than an ignorant heretic
A small mind is easily filled with faith.
A warrior's faith in his commander is his best armour and his strongest weapon.
Adamantium walls and plasteel bulkheads may seem formidable, but an unshakable faith in the Immortal Emperor of Man can overcome any barriers.
An Empty Mind Is A Loyal Mind
An open mind is like a fortress with its gate unbarred and unguarded.
Better crippled in body than corrupt in mind.
Consider the Predator. Let your soul be armoured with Faith, driven on the tracks of Obedience which overcome all obstacles, and armed with the three great guns of Zeal, Duty and Purity.
Facts are chains that bind perception and fetter truth. For a man can remake the world if he has a dream and no facts to cloud his mind.
Faith without deeds is worthless.
Happiness is a delusion of the weak
Forgiveness is a sign of weakness.
He who lives for nothing is nothing. He who dies for the Emperor is a hero.
If a man dies that another should live, that man's spirit shall eat at the Emperor's table
Innocence proves nothing
It is better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself.
Leniency is a sign of weakness!
Mercy is a sign of weakness.
No man that died in the Emperor's service died in vain.
Nobody is innocent, there are merely varying levels of guilt.
Only in death does duty end.
Only the insane have strength enough to prosper. Only those who prosper may truly judge what is sane.
Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind
Purge those who are unclean.
Sometimes the good must perish so that the rest survive. The lot of courage is to be sacrificed upon the altar of battle.
Survival is no birthright, but a prize wrested from an uncaring galaxy by forgotten heroes.
The common man is like a worm in the gut of a corpse, trapped inside a prison of cold flesh, helpless and uncaring, unaware even of the inevitability of its own doom.
The Emperor will not judge you by your medals and diplomas but by your scars.
Though silver in your palms weighs light
Compared to death by blast and sword,
Do not shy the hopeless fight,
For endeavour is its own reward.
Valkyries: Occult Warfare - OOC [Closed] [M]
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