The spaces between- recruitment and ooc

[polymphus]

Right. All y'all who've read the interest thread will already know what's going but for those who haven't, here's the cliffnotes version;

I'm going to be launching an RP in my own homebrew steampunk world. Some relevant links;
* Wikipedia on 'steampunk'.
* Tvtropes on the same subject.
*The last three rps I held in this setting.
If you can't be bothered reading through all that (and there's a lot, maybe 1000 posts) then here's a summary. Because this world's a constant WiP you'll notice significant changes of people, places and things. This is a reboot, and occurs about 10 years before the other RPs I've done. If any of it's confusing you, consider the more recent stuff more relevant but if something older hadn't been overidden, it's still canon. If it's still confusing me, feel free to contact me and ask for clarification.

Of Alessgrad

“I don't like the way this place runs, but you've got to admit it runs like clockwork.
-Katya Kuzetsova; Engineering prodigy

Alessgrad, the City of Ice and Steel, is comprised of fourteen mechanical blocks that jut into the sky like the toes of a strange metal god. Spread across the city, each is a marvel of engineering; a completely self-sustaining edifice where hundreds of families live out their days untouched by the ravages of the world. Outside the spires, however, the city is a hive of disease and misery. The last fifty years have been marked by the unprecedented rise of the Engineers' Guild. Factories blacken the sky with smoke, making even breathing difficult in much of the city. Every day they unveil a new technological marvel for the home or battlefield. The Engineers hold influence from the lowest household to the royal palace.

King Vasily XI has ruled for the last thirty years in declining power, a figuredhead lacking the will to keep control of the Guild. Under their prompting Vasily banned the practice of magic in the city and all surrounding territories. Brutal witch hunts destroyed half the city, and rebellion still lingers in the ruins. Gang-ruled slums house three-quarters of the city's population. Some crime lords own automobiles, a rare sight outside the Spires, their only competition the Theives' Guild, whose members swear blood oaths to keep their organization a mystery.

The Kosk river enters the city bright and clear and leaves thick with sludge. There's a saying that men don't drown in the Kosk; they are crushed. Still, many ships sail upriver and out to sea, exploring exotic lands and returning with tales of mystery and adventure.

Of the Outlands

Alessgrad is a city-state, but was once part of a great empire now fractured in a hundred quarrelling kingdoms. While they have common ancestry, each kingdom differs significantly from those around it. The north is in a constant state of war as each of these kingdoms tries to unite the lands in to their own way and shooting people who disagree. A GM should feel free to create their own kingdoms for plot purposes.

Little is known of the land outside the old empire. Sailors and airmen tell tales of the Demon King of the Eastern Isles, of Cannibal tribes of the great forest and in hushed tones, even of the mysterious technomancers of Sa'sihm.

Of note also is the great desert to the southeast. Alessgrad has claimed the area as its own and few are willing to contest this: the area has little of importance but for minor mineral deposits and for the most part it is and will remain a mess of shantytowns connected by notoriously unreliable trains. Those who leave the city for a better life find themselves inhabiting a barren wasteland ruled by outlaws and gunslingers.

Of Science

The Engineers' Guild did not come to rule half the city through lack of talent: while their lack of care for the natural world strikes some as amoral, there is no doubt that they are very good building wondrous contraptions. Of particular note are the metal humanoids produced in recent years, primarily as servants for the rich. Known as 'mannequins', they are the pinnacle of modern steamtech. Their name derives from their origin: the first artificial parts created were arms and legs for injured war heroes. The derisive name 'Mannequin' arose, and was later applied to full-tech humanoids as well. Semiautomatic, steam-powered firearms are made in large numbers for the military, although some find their way down through the cracks to less salubrious owners. Automatic weapons exist but in very limited numbers and are too large to be usefully used outside a military context.

The guild considers technology to be 'pure'. While combinations of magic are possible, any who experiment in this area usually find themselves mysteriously vanishing in the night and their houses mysteriously burned down by mysterious teams of engineers with flamethrowers. There is no intervention from law enforcement: The engineers are their own law.

The largest spire in the city is the Engineers' headquarters. It houses over 1000 men, women and children of the Guild, with room for factories and workshops. Ignominiously known as 'Smoghaven' by the city's poor, the colossal structure towers over Alessgrad, so high that the top is only visible from atop the mountains to the city's east. Every day it rings with the sounds of construction; hammer and flame together creating more wonders of modern civilisation.

Of Angels and Demons

The antithesis to these wonders of science is magic. All humans have innate magical ability, but only those with proper training can tap into it. The power of the individual ranges significantly: in the year 452 of the Kings' Calender a powerful mage called Igor Bashkin used his powers to make an attack on the palace, killing dozens of guards and nearly the king himself, but not for the intervention of angels.

The angels, the watchers, the grigori, the untouchables. They have many names, but do not be deceived, they are human...almost. You see, the angels are the unlucky few born without any magical ability whatsoever. In fact, they possess a 'halo' that dampens and nullifies nearby magical fluxes. This is useful to those who despise mages, but horrific for the individual in question: they do not dream, have no imagination and some whisper no soul. Most are found and recruited by the Engineers' Guild at a young age where they are fitted with metal skullcaps, said to amplify their powers. In reality, they are what's known as a 'deadbolt'; a mechanical device that uses electrical impulses to send the wearer into a catatonic state at the whim of the handlers. Some angels deemed unstable are kept in this state for periods ranging from days to years on end, until eventually they are returned to service or terminated.

The name 'angel' was given by the Engineers. Before knowledge of the angels was well known, the Engineers had a habit of visiting certain homes in Alessgrad and offering large sums of money to remove 'problem children'. With Smoghaven the tallest spire in the city, the Engineers would offer the children a chance to live right at the top and thus be closer to heaven. The angels are told that when they rise in rank, they will be allowed to live higher and higher in the tower; eventually having residences at the very top.

The angels are strange beings. For the most part they're normal human beings, but are...detached. They find no joy in art, music or social contact. Some read books and collect art to try and fit in with civilised society, but to no avail. They simply do not understand what it is to imagine or to dream. From a young age they are taught that the closer to heaven they get, the more human they can become. Many fascinate themselves with this quest: their burning desire to be 'normal' leading them to be involved in whatever horrific actions the engineers see fit. It is not unknown for an angel to escape from their quarters and attempt to break for the guild building's roof. Those who manage to avoid security are often found on the roof, their incoherent cries of rage and grief ended only with a bullet to the head. It's considered kinder that way.

The angels' reputation proceeds them, and it is a time of great mourning in Alessgrad when the Engineers come knocking at a new mother's door. They are the angels; humanity's silent guardians against the evils of magic. And where there are angels, there are demons.

Demons lie on the other sidef the coin. While angels are born with no magical ability whatsoever, demons are born with an excess. Their power is often so great that it is uncontrollable: infants with the power to destroy buildings with their cries alone. They are often killed at birth: they are easily identified by the red birthmark on the back of their left hand. There is another danger to magic that very few know about: magic draws from...somewhere. Another universe, so the forbidden books say. When a mage draws power from that place, there is the risk of drawing other things too. Strange, depraved beings who see our world and covet it: if given the chance they will take it and all that we have. They cannot enter our world on their own accord, but if the mage's mind is weak enough they can gain influence over the body and reak havoc and destruction for their own sick amusement. Those that have so far are comparatively small fish, but whispers abound that if enough mages willed it then they could conjure forth dark and hungry gods and watch the world burn.

The Tchervyak

“Only the blind know what is it to see.”
-Tchervyak proverb

“Now I aint a racist, but them things gives me the creeps. It's the eyes I swear it; big black orbs that don't never blink. I don't wanna see them hurt or anything, I just wish they went back where they came from.”
-Heinrich Keppler, thief

It is a simple fact that humans fear those who are different. Fear often comes from lack of understanding, although at times there is something greater at stake. The Tchervyak are a race shrouded in fear and suspicion, not all of it undeserved.

A Tchervyak is a strange looking creature. Tall and lithe, with glistening white skin that puts humans in mind of a maggot that's learnt to stand. They have impossibly thin limbs that are not strong, but can move with superhuman speed and precision. Their eyes take up at least a third of their face: great black orbs with no pupils. They are more potent mages than humans, mostly due to a lack of social stigma of the practice in their society. Their magics are generally not destructive; they focus on clairvoyance, deception and illusion. While they're now used to the sun, they remain mostly active at night. Once organised into brood-clans, each centered around a gigantic Brood Mother, these highly magical creatures serve as an indentured underclass in Allessgrad. Before humans arrived in the north, the Tchervyak were plentiful; thousands of brood clans living in mineral rich caverns deep beneath the earth. They had little reason to go above ground until the humans arrived and began to mine.

The war that followed was devastating. Tchervyak brood mothers are known to be powerful clairvoyants and the humans' grasp of the magical arts was weak. But the humans brought more with them. They brought guns and swords and steel. The brought explosives to destroy the caverns. There were many of them and their tenacity was terrifying to behold. The war was lost almost before it began.

Most of the brood mothers were killed, and the survivng Tchervyak forced above ground. The harsh sun blinded them and they found few insects to eat. The slums they were forced into were made of brittle wood and smelled all wrong. Many died of disease and malnutrition, many more were beaten to death by mobs who found them grotesque and terrifying. Less than a thousand remain, living in the shadows and scavenging from human waste. Many hold a deep hatred of humanity in their hearts and whisper that they day will come when they overthrow their conquerors and rebuild the clans.

Orcs

"Big buggers. None too bright until you get some gearwheels in front of them, then away they go. Don't ask for much 'cept to be left alone. My kinda people really."
-Grigori Tarasov, Engineer

Muscular, red skinned creatures who originate from somewhere in the far south. Skin, horns, pointed teeth and forked tongues aside, they look remarkably like humans. Larger Orcs have larger horns, up to 1 foot in length. These horns are very hard and are used in fights to assert dominance over a territory or breeding rights. They are excellent tinkerers and mechanics, used as a workforce by the Engineers to help build and maintain their machines. Their skin is harder than human skin and is known to protect against magic. For this reason, some disreputable humans are known to hunt them. Orc horns are also considered good luck. Those within the Guild's protection are safe, but those remaining outside are the toughest of their race and are slow to trust any human who approaches them.

+++

Character creation. I'd like to ask everyone interested to submit the following details about their characters.

Name:
Age:
Race:
Physical Description:
Weapons/Equipment:
Personality:
Bio/History:

If there's anything the background is missing, bring it up here. Like I said, the world is a constant WiP and if something's missing it's probably because I just haven't considered it. Bringing it up gets me writing and helps you enjoy the game, so it's never a bad thing.

So yeah. Go to.

Poly
Out

[RampagingRavener]

Those of you who check out Poly's old RP's will come across a version of this character. Talking with Poly, this is a setting reboot, so just pretend they don't exist and this is the only Keltai that's ever been written about.

Name: Keltai Estal
Age: 29
Height: 5’ 7”
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Physical Description: Of moderate height and build, Keltai has no shame in courting the stereotypical image of a Necromancer (though she stops short of adorning herself with skulls and other garish symbols of death). Her skin has paled due to long months lurking over scraps of magical lore away from the sun, her hair is thick, black and often unkempt and tangled. Though not unattractive it’s obvious she doesn’t take as good care of herself as she should, and often appears underfed or haggard with lack of sleep. Her eyes are an unnaturally bright shade of electric green. She favours long dresses and robes, copying the styles of Alessgrad’s nobility as best she can, and is rarely seen wearing anything other than black. Extended periods of time working with corpses and the dead has meant she often smells a bit funny - usually of grave dirt or embalming fluid.

Personality: Keltai is, at heart, a scholar. Intelligent and at times quite crafty, she obsesses over unravelling the secrets of her magical abilities, and eagerly devours any other knowledge or information she comes across with equal vigour. She is driven to know, even at detriment to her own health and wellbeing. For when one might prize her away from her studies, they would find her open, friendly, enthusiastic and talkative, less haughty than many magic users, albeit possessed of a short temper when disturbed in the middle of a complex train of thought. Her habit of talking to the dead, reanimated or static alike, as if they were alive and capable of responding can be somewhat off-putting, though. Keltai has a deep loathing for those who would try and place restrictions upon thought or research, or cast judgements upon those who dabble in taboo subjects, and as such would quite cheerfully tear down the entire Engineer's guild if she could.

Weapons/Equipment:
Necromantic Tome: A large, leather-bound hardback book. The many worn pages are filled with Keltai’s scribbled notes and diagrams related to the weaving of Necromantic magic. Some of which now comes as naturally as breathing, other spells entirely theoretical, and a few she will downright refuse to use, but makes a record of for posterity.
Surgical Tools: A metal-clasped bag filled with an assortment of bonesaws, calipers, needles, thread, and scalpels. Most are blunt and/or rusty, though since Keltai only uses them for dissecting corpses it matters little.

Magic:
Keltai is a Necromancer of prodigious skill. Hers is the ability to manipulate death and the dead. This has two main uses; reanimating corpses and binding them to her will, or to kill directly by tearing free the soul and casting it into the afterlife, or inducing hyper-accelerated aging. While she is technically capable of communicating with Spirits who have passed on, or binding them into a corpse to create a sentient, thinking creature, Keltai views such practices as abhorrent. She restrains herself to manipulation of static corpses.

Her obsessive pursuit of magical power, however, has left her physically weak and unfit, untrained in actual combat, and unfamiliar with handling weapons.

History: Keltai was born in the slums, one more child scratching out a living amidst poverty and squalor. She found it difficult to fit in with the other children, though. As soon as she was able to comprehend such things, Keltai found it difficult to put aside the urge to question “Why?” and concentrate on the day to day issues of survival. For reasons she couldn’t explain at the time, she found herself drawn to lurking burial sites and mass graves, digging through the layers of soil and trash to scavenge for possessions buried with the dead, or dropped by mourners, that she might sell to help her family pay their way. As time passed, Keltai spent more and more time away from her peers, preferring silent contemplation among the dead to noisy games of sports. Her friends were the Tchervyak scavengers who picked over the sites she frequented - their displays of precognitive magic fascinating and alluring in equal parts.

Her magic began to actually manifest as puberty set in. The urge to be near sites of death was eclipsed by the urge to actually be near the corpses themselves. Her time was spent hunting out dead rats and other small animals, lacking the courage to dig up an actual grave. The actual trigger, however, came when her parents were killed in one of the sweeping fires that occasionally raged though the slums. Keltai survived the fire only because she was investigating a new grave-pit that had been dug several miles away from her home at the time. Once the fire had guttered down, she returned to her home and, amidst her confusion and grief, accidentally cast her first magical ability; momentarily reanimating the body of her mother as she pleaded for her to ‘get back up’. The shock of this sent her fleeing once more, and it would be several weeks before she began to try and replicate the phenomena. At first, Keltai found herself unable to reanimate more than a few small animals - rats, usually - at once. Despite trying to keep her abilities secret, as they developed and matured Keltai would frequently lose control of the virtual font of necromantic energy welling inside her. On more than one occasion, bodies would reanimate spontaneously, or vegetation wither and die, leading to frightened mobs chasing her out of one district of the slums to seek refuge in another.

Despite these setbacks, Keltai's enthusiasm remained undamaged. She found people would be willing to pay for her abilities - seedy elements of society wanting to frighten those who owed them money, or who wished revenge on members of the criminal cartels that ran the slums but didn't want to bloody their own hands. Keltai leapt at these opportunities, eagerly putting her Necromantic powers to practical use rather than merely theory. Such things created enemies, however. The criminal gangs sought to remove a thorn in their side, and while Keltai found plenty who respected magic (now that she could properly wield it) in the slums, such talents were not appreciated by others. Witchfinders and Bounty Hunters often patrolled, paid to weed out mages in the hope fear would keep them from practicing their abilities. Killing them disturbed Keltai deeply at first. Robbing graves was one thing, but tearing people apart with swarms of undead rats was completely different. It changed her, discomfort eventually turning to anger, hardening her to such sights. She reasoned that these were people who made their money from the suffering and deaths of others, so it was no loss if they themselves were killed. This finally came to a head when, after seeing a minor drug lord tightening his grip on the slum she currently resided in and harassing her for weeks, Keltai cast a terrifyingly powerful necromantic spell. Every corpse within a mile spontaneously reanimated and, under her tenuous willpower, marched on the drug lord's hideout, smashed down the doors, and slaughtered he and his servants. Though the effort rendered her unconscious for nearly two days, and left her half-mad with magical backlash for a month (some would say she still has mental scars from the event), it accomplished her goal. People left her well and truly alone after that. She moved into the desolate building her foe had once occupied, paying groups of Tchervyak to help refit and repair it, and rarely left other to visit the market.

Little, since then, has changed. Keltai spends most of her days holed up, surrounded by the dead and, on occasion, a few Tchervyak hirelings. Her studies have branched beyond simple Necromancy into almost all forms of banned though, Techno-arcane meshing being the greatest dalliance to occupy her mind. Few humans live in the area around her ramshackle laboratories, finding the errant flashes of green lightning and zombie moans disturbing, to say the least. She makes a living in the trade of magical lore, buying and selling whatever old tomes and notebooks find their way into the black markets of the slums.

Still needs some finishing touches.

[Comrade JC]

Definitely grabbing a spot for this one. Will think on a character concept.

[SandQueen]

Name: First Sergeant Helga Petwarski

Age: 27

Race: Human

Physical Description: At 5'6" she is of mostly average height. Helga has a slight build that is mostly sinew. She has shoulder length blonde hair that curls slightly near the tips. Her eyes are a cheerful blue and she is very fair skinned. Her usual uniform consists of ivory jodhpurs, knee height black leather boots, and a black equestrian jacket complete with leather padded sleeves and a broad patch on the right shoulder.

Weapons/Equipment:
-Bolt action carbine chambered in 8x58mm Rimmed cartridges. This weapon holds five rounds in an internal magazine that is fed via a trapdoor on the side of the weapon. Its overall length is 38.8 Inches and it Weighs 7.5lbs. Helga wears a bandolier of cartridges across her chest. (Its a Krag-Jørgensen, the most Steam-Punk rifle I could come up with for 1880-1890 time period. The most steam-punk rifle, the Johnson 1941 was not invented yet.)
Attachment 85469Attachment 85470Attachment 85471

-Helga carries a handgun in a leather holster on her right hip. It is a large and cumbersom prototype weapon that has just entered its first testing phases. While it is uncomfortable to shoot and extremely loud it packs an astonishing punch. It is chambered in .45 Long cartridges and has an revolutionary eight round detachable magazine.(Its a Mars Automatic Pistol)
Attachment 85474

-Despite being issued the new, self-loading pistol Helga still retains her orginal sidearm; a 6 shot revolver chambered in 11mm. Hers has nickle coating on it. The weapon is kept in a cross-draw holster on her left hip (Its a MAS 1873 Chamelot-Delvigne Revolver)
Attachment 85475

-Helga also carries a wide bladed Smatchet knife on her belt.

Personality:
Helga is first and foremost a soldier, a fine one at that. Her looks combined with her ability have caused some military offices to feature chariactures of her on recruitment posts (albeit much taller and with a much more impressive bust line). She puts her duty first and is always very attentive to every detail of her mission and military regulations right down to grooming and uniform inspections. She is detail oriented and honorable, the sort of soldier that some of the leading Engineers, those with some political power, like to have around.

Bio/History:
Helga grew up poor. Her parents were dairy farmers away from the city and didnt make much in the way of money. One day, when she was very young, a company of soldiers marched by on their way to some operation. To her these people were beyond human. They wore pressed uniforms and carried glimmering weapons. Some rode well bred steeds and had hats with elaborate plumage. It was then that she knew that if she wanted to really be something in her life she would need to get away from the farm and become one of them.

At eighteen she left home and headed into Alessgrad to join the ranks of their army. At first she was turned away, what use was some wiry girl beyond that of a passing amusement of an officer? She tried again though and again until the recruitment officer relented and allowed her to sign the contract.

Induction into the military was hard on Helga. She was one of less than a dozen women that were new recruits, half of which didnt make it to graduation. Helga went through hell during physical training due to her limited physical abilities but her talent came to bear when it came to marksmanship and riding. Due to her light weight she put almost no burden on a fully muscled warhorse. She could ride quickly and keep a steady aim. Off of a horse she was even better with her quick feet and nimble nature. Despite being a fairly delicature creature she showed promise.

Helga was one of six women that graduated, the other five of which became involved in communications. Helga though was assigned to an combat engineer corps. Her small hands were better suited for handling machinery when she needed to and she offered a pleasent face that improved the morale and productivity of some of the intellectuals. Her primary duty was in defending the Engineers while they worked on breaking enemy fortifications or in the testing of new weapons (such as lobbing orbs full of Fulminate of Mercury).

Helga has participated in a number of minor conflicts, particularly territorial disputes and bandit outbreaks. She has climbed the ranks at a steady pace and currently holds the title of First Sergeant. She has garnered enough of a reputation to merit recognition by some of her superior officers and members of the Engineering Guild although she is still far from dining with the likes of Captains and leading manufactures.

[bryne3]

Character will be up by monday,

[Nocculum]

Character inbound.

[Luthor's Shadow]

The character we spoke of shall be expected.

May Insanity Grace your Day

Luthor's Shadow

[Nocculum]

“Who are you?” The Sasquatch man asked, whilst thumbing the edge of the scroll with keen disinterest.

I, replied the shadow, I am the Efterklang, flitting between the shadow’d and thumbscrews of the Guild.

---

Name: Efterklang Smithsonian Jones
Alias: Efterklang, The Mercadian Masque
Age: 34
Race: Human, Mechanisation/Mannequin
Eye Colour: Jade
Hair Colour: Black
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 199llbs
Odour: Steam/Dew
Intelligence: Genius
Allegiance: The Mercadian Masque

History: The Engineer’s Guild likes not the tinkering of a madman, possessing certain greedy traits when it comes to the unification of magic and metal, or machine and manna. Of course, this does not prevent certain individuals from experimenting, or for that matter, trying their luck against the assassins of the shadows who come to remove such a taint in the cities of the world. Thirty four years ago, one such genius, Michal Jones, sought to enhance a Mannequin with the symbiotic spirit of his own mind, and the magic of his kin. The result was the Efterklang Mk. 1, who now calls himself Smithsonian Jones, or works under the moniker ‘Efterklang.’

It took years for his mental capacity to grow to that of a capable being, and in doing so, he came to understand what had transpired during the first week of his ‘life.’ The fleeting images of a ruined workshop and blood smothering his own hands occasionally haunts his dreams, and the dead body of his ‘father’ occupies a corner of his mind he can never vacate. Unable to destroy the Efterklang, the Engineer’s Guild sought to copy it’s design and device a method of destroying magical machines, should they ever be employed against them in the future. For twelve years they fetidly occupied their darkest laboratories and steam engines with the furthering of knowledge regarding magical machines, until one night, fourteen years ago, both the Efterklang and the ‘Mercadian Masque’ vanished from the Smoghaven, and the first sparks of genius flickered in the night.

In recent years, a terrorist movement proclaiming themselves to be ‘Scions of the Masque’ have started actively working against the Engineer’s Guild, bringing to bare magic and machine to topple the stifling regime where creativity would otherwise reign. Efterklang is said to be the leader, the philosophical spokesperson and ‘god-head’ of such change. He is a perpetual myth almost, for few would acknowledge his existence, and few who see him in the gears, do not live long enough to tell the tale…the Mercadian Masque Group are very much an enigma, working in a world where time, does not run so smoothly.

Personality: Efterklang is a curious being, for he possesses half the remnants of his maker's personality, weaknesses, fears and dreams, and half a new and curious life experienced through his own, slowly awakening propensity to dream. Whilst cold, calculated and derisive, he is also the very modern example of a gentleman, polite, well-mannered and egocentric enough to carry himself where dichotomoy and charisma reign. Of love he he has heard little, and his relationships seldom go beyond the politicals, hateful or economical. This reflects in his nature and his distance from the typical constraints of human interaction, whilst he plays the part given to him well; enough, it is difficult for some humans to understand how he has come to pass, and some mistake him for human altogether and react to this two-faced sterness with hostility.

As he is very much a wanted man, Efterklang trusts very few people, very few more with the knowledge of his true upbringing and creation. He has a natural affinity towards those of a magical nature, and will often open up to them with increasing frequency without little provocation or request. His affinity to those who bear the same creation as he is also strong, and he has an altruistic and overbearign sense to protect other mannequins, regardless of their awakened state and even if it would endanger his life. Most important of all, Efterklang carries such a powerful notion of power, charisma and delicate sensititivities, that his personality makes a dramatic impression on anyone who is fortunate enough to meet him and live.

Weapons/Equipment: Efterklang possess no weapons, nor does he possess the correct notion of self to utilise traditional armaments. Whilst he does own various pieces of equipment, those most important or profound that can affect others are noted below; consider him also to have a breadth of mundane materials, travelling items and domestic paraphernalia as well.

The Mercadian Masque – The Masque is a relic, almost as old as the guild and unfathomably priceless. It was one of the first experiments in combining magic and science, centuries ago, and it was deemed too dangerous to exist outside of the security of the Engineer’s Guild. Upon escaping the Guild’s captivity, Efterklang took the masque with him, seeing his own design and ability as perfect for using its prodigious capabilities. The inside of the Masque attaches only to a Mannequins facial devices, and fits perfectly over Efterklang Mk. 1 breathing apparatus. It can perform three duties when activated, and whilst active, the visible eye glows vibrant, neon green which swirls and crackles, and the cogs and pipes wobble and vent steam from his body.

• Dichotomy of Transience: Through the extendable and zoom able scope, the wearer of the mask can examine magical devices, to determine their sources and how such devices acquire manna from organic or mechanical components. In essence, it allows the wearer to analyse and come to better understand other entities which require magic to work.

• Mercadian Resemblance: The Masque may be used to conjure a minor illusion spell, with rare frequency that alters the wearer’s magical aura so that it cannot be traced by any means. The Masque diverts organic gaze away from any extruding mechanical part of the wearer if stared at for too long, effectively creating a short lived ‘glamour’ that allows it’s wearer to at least for a time, pretend to be a ‘real’ creature.

• The Halcyon Array: When in sunlight, the Masque absorbs heat to recharge its functions, which would otherwise become unusable if they are not replenished daily. The Masque shines especially brightly in day or direct light, like glass atop a mountain, and can be used to cower of distract others.

Skills/Abilities: As a mechanical construct, much of Efterklang abilities and skills come from soul-bound enchantments from his father’s own memory. As such, he himself is a tool for the construction and subversion of other mechanical constructs, his inner-workings acting as saboteur and synergist alike. For the time being, as he discovers more and more scope for his own self, he can utilise his inner workings in the following two ways;

• Discharge Enigma: Inside Efterklang, there is a complex network of crystals and magically enchanted cogs and gears working together to ensure the very small and tightly constructed machine works. Such energy is constantly growing and requires the ventilation and exhumation of steam at regular intervals, giving him his aura, and his odour. At the rate of three times per day, he may discharge the excess energy in a more concentrated form, which can create a bolt of weak electricity of a magical nature to jolt or start mechanical systems, or create a sub-light shockwave that can be targeted against a small group of individuals, rushing them altogether in a blinding mini-vortex of collapsing air. Neither ability will be fatal, and is more defensive than offensive in nature. It may be recharged much quicker if he is near a source of manna, or someone channels their own magical energies into his central crystal matrix, in much the same way as a lightning rod.

• Inter-Link: Through his fingers, which fold and retract, Efterklang can produce various devices which connect to other machines or give small electricity and temperature readings of a nearby device. In time, he may interlink effectively with other machines, especially Mannequins, and learn of things witnessed or heard in the recent past; up to one hour. It also allows him to potentially reveal anomalies in programming or systems, such as sabotage devices or countering enchantments etc.

Weaknesses, Strengths & General Notes: Constructed in black veneered stainless steel and smosium titanium alloy, Efterklang is incredily resilient even for his relatively thin and compact form to blunt, slashing and impact damage from moderate and even large weapons if he realises he is to be struck before hand. Electricity will have a reduced effect, but immersion in water reduced his movement to 10%, to a very slow and lancerous swim through treacle. Bullets will be deflected by the outer plates, but there is chance they will penetrate the softer gaps of the underlay or his eyes/various extremeties. He is every much the expectation, and every much the holder of robotic and synthetic benefits. Pain is of course relative and whilst he recongises it in the for of electrical conflux, he can ignore it to some extent. He it not indestructible, and prefers to flee conflict if he becomes a target due to the expensive nature and lengthy time consuming process required to make even the smallest of repairs, which must be constant and sleight to remain fully functionall. Psionics or mages may be able to commune with the latent aspects of his creators identity, which are kinded in his inner workings. Due to his clockwork and magical nature, he is immune to hunger, the need to breathe (but requires steam) and of course, he is immune to poisons that effect organic matter.

[The Custodian]

Or not,
Loaded up guildwars for the first time in awhile, remembered how useful it could be for photos.


Name: Rolan Harker

Age: 27

Race: Male Human

Physical Description: Bleach blond hair, short slim frame about 5'4". Eyes are dark brown on a friendly looking face. Some facial scruff.


Clothing/Armour: Wears a set of brown leather armour colored to match the forest he comes from. Was crafted years ago by Rolan’s hand when he came of age. Also takes to wearing a dark green cloak.


Weapons/Equipment: An old elegant flatbow inherited from the family a year ago. Believed to have magical enchantments within it however Rolan has yet to see anything special about it. Uses normal steel arrows.


Also carries a pair of identical blades on his back in case he needs to engage in close combat. Both were stolen from a noble family who had no use for them other than decorations above the fireplace. The blades themselves have no special quirks about them.


Bio/History: Rolan is descended from a long line of hunters who lived in the forests north Alessgrad. For years his father would train him in the family’s ways, the arts of stealth and thrill of the hunt. He would learn to become a great survivalist able to live off the land and navigate through the dark forests, by the time he turned 17 he had exceeded his father’s skills. Two years later his home would be destroyed.

Whether it was to feed the insatiable fire of progress or something else the men of Alessgrad came to the forest. Backed by monstrous machines of the Engineering guild the land was stripped bare. Where once a proud pine forest stood, teeming with life and vegetation, now a barren plain stretched as far as the eye can see. Rolan and his family would fight these invaders. Along with his brothers they led daring raids into the lumber camps sabotaging vehicles and killing important figures. As the days passed the attacks became more and more bloody until Alessgrad was forced to call in military forces. Despite all their training Rolan's family was slaughtered, their bows and stealth useless against guns and superior technology. Rolan was the only survivor and watched from the shadows as his home was destroyed.

Cast out from his home Rolan became a mercenary and bounty hunter, and while he retained a sense of honour he never forgot what Alessgrad had done to his people. As a result many of his tasking often brought him onto conflict with the city where he would relish what destruction and pain he could cause.

Personality: To those who meet him Rolan is is a charming and overall pleasing man, completely at odds with his ruthless nature. When on the hunt Rolan becomes a cold hearted killer, especialy when dealing with the people of Alessgrad. Rolan also has a deep mistrust for technology, and is reluctant to use it.

Magic/Abilities:

Stealth- Rolan is a master of concealing himself, and while he is at his best in the woods he has learned how to disappear in more urban areas as well.

Sniper- Rolan's skill with the bow is unmatched, able to hit a target at great distances Rolan has been called upon as a sniper to eliminate special targets.

Communion with Nature- While Rolan is unsure wether the skills is magical or not Rolan has a bond with nature. Many times in his life he has been able to communicate with the world around him to learn information, change his environment, and even recieve aid.

[pwrgmrguard]

[Shocking Return]

If you guys'll have me back i'm interested.

[/Shocking Return]

Also - I see no discussion of sport or entertainment. Greco-Roman Wrestling?

[polymphus]

All characters accepted - good to have you back guard.

@the custodian. Character is good, just warning you now that communing with nature is probably going to be of limited use unless you're including rats/pidgeons etc. into that description.

@Nocculum. Fine. You do realise though that the Engineers would probably devote a significant amount of resources to destroying him right? Because he's their own creation they wouldn't be especially public but they'd very much want him gone.

40K analogy. Imagine a DH inquisitor whose bound daemonhost escaped. He's not going to tell everyone about it but he's certainly going to do his best to cleanse it with fire and sword. Especially if a bunch of humans rally around behind it and start saying they're going to kill the inquisitor. In terms of the danger the engineers believe magitek poses, that's not far off.

Just clarifying. If you don't mind any of that, welcome aboard.

[Nocculum]

I wouldn't have it any other way Poly, wouldn't have it any other way

[pwrgmrguard]

Name: Orpheus Willson

Age: 33

Race: Human

Physical Description: Ripped, Jacked, Cut, Chiseled, did I say Jacked? I meant bursting the seams of a 4x shirt. He is muscular. Very. Orpheus takes pride in his body and what he can do with it. He is of a deep tan coloration, and has blond, crew cut hair with grey blue eyes. About town he will wear some variation of a half button down shirt and tailored slacks, often with a cap. He is exceedingly muscular from his days as a world champion heavyweight wrestler.

Weapons/Equipment: His bare goddamn hands. And thighs. And forehead. And feet.

Personality: Orpheus is very gregarious. He talks naturally and is willing to listen to almost everyone, of any station. Orpheus doesn’t use his celebrity to distance himself from the people but to embrace them, honoring autograph requests in almost any situation. He is difficult to provoke, but also hard to calm. Orpheus is very conscious of his strength and fears beyond anything else casing inadvertent pain to an innocent person.


Bio/History: A well known professional wrestler, he holds records in the heavyweight class and is a two time world champion. He holds records for most points scored in a tournament and most unanimous decision victories, being a superb technical wrestler. Many have suspected or suggested in less than reputable publications he has had tech implanted under his skin to augment his considerable natural strength, or his mother and an orc spent some questionable time together. He is now retired but every two years or so will coach a prospect he believes has promise. He does not have a steady job, but makes money by appearing at events and trading on his name.

I need to find a few images.

[Chiara]

PM sent polymphus.

[polymphus]

PM respond'd.

@Guard, the only big thing I see is that he's 'world champion' in a very insular society. They know other nation exist but buggered if they're going to go talk to them any time soon. If 'world champion' is just a title then it's all good.

[Chiara]

Name: Izzy 'Aduro' Veenre
Age: 25
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Height: 6'3
Weight: 170
Physical Description: Aduro is a tall woman with an athletic physique with developed muscles and is faintly attractive. She has long black and silver hair which ends in curls and at first appears unkept, but a style can be seen if paid attention to with one thick strand braided and has a silver wedding band around it. She has grey colored eyes that try to hide flashes of emotions but change from light or dark grey depending on the emotion. There is a key feature of Aduro on her right thigh on the upper side near her back is a semi-formed red mark in that a of Raven's talon partially forming.

She is dressed in tight black trousers, boots, and a white button up shirt, with a black corsett underneath it. She wears a worn hooded cloak around her shoulders for warmth and tends keep the hood down only pulling it up if it rains, finding keeping your hood up attracts more attention than it being down. Her fashion gives her an air of the rising middle class, but upon closer inspection the dirt stains and even some blood can be seen on the shirt and trousers.

Personality: Aduro gives off an air of being dark and broody, lost in her thoughts and uncaring of the world around her. This is the shroud she has cultivated around herself to hide her innerself. She is prone to emotional outbursts and looses control of the more extreme emotions during times of considerable stress to trigger the emotion. She is not neccassarily anti-social, she is just dedicated to her own cause and will assist others but rarely intends on forming long term relationships. Prefers her own council, she will offer her own if asked and sometimes if not. She is bold and confident and rarely shirks from a fight, most of the time fighting as if she has nothing to loose.

Weapons:
Razor: An experimental double chamber revolver that unleashes 12 shots. Has an automatic function to unload all shots quickly, but prone to jamming and rounds firing out the opposite end.

Quicksilver: a long extended barrel revolver that fires five shots before needing to be reloaded.

Hunting Knife: Once her father's own hunting knife, its an 8in blade knife sharpened and maintained by Aduro.

Magic:
Fire Bolt: Aduro is able to hurl magical fire projectiles at an enemy.

Flame Wall: Aduro can summon forth a wall of fire taking up a 3 foot horizontal line in front of her or even from the ground the possible targets are standing at.

Flame Shield: Bringing palms flat together and her arms across her chest, she can create a temporary shield of fire to delfect attacks. Can only be maintained for a limited time and is best used in short burst compared to prolong.

Energy Explosion: A curious reaction that can happen to Aduro in times of extreme stress. It is not a controlable power and she has no will over it. It is also strangely related to the glowing of her mark during the event.

Background: For the first thirteen years of Izzy Veenre's life, nothing was out of the ordinary in the idealistic farming village. It was slow to accept the changing world around it and her father and mother both sustained their way of life as best as they could. From their mother making her two daughters clothing to their father breaking his back in the communial farming fields, they were a relatively happy family.

When she was thirteen and her sister, Freya, was six their father had taken them into Alessgrad to sell the crops that something strange had happened. Freya had always been a bit unusual and as she grew older it became more apparent with an unnatural oddity just coming from her. Even their own parents had begun to unconsciously distance themselves from Freya and Izzy, being who she was back then, had grown closer to her sister. Protecting her from the other children and even telling off adults who looked at her wierd. However, in the city, they walked past an Engineer who suddenly stopped their father and began ask all about Freya.

The man had given their father a bag of coin and with that, they took off home, the two girls not knowing what the man had paid their father. Izzy was never made aware of her father's treachary, he had sold Freya to the Engineer and plotted her abduction. Of course, Izzy still to this day does not know the truth of her father, but the consequences are forever burned into her mind.

Three nights later armed men stormed the village intent on taking Freya alive and leaving the village a burning landmark, claiming it was purified of the taint. Freya was an Angel, a rare human breed amongst the world and she was valuable to the Engineer's Guild, rare enough for them to act in force. The entire village burned while innocent blood was shed and chhildren screamed watching their parents die before them only to have the same weapons turned on them as well. Death had come to Izzy's village and trying to hide in the cellar with her sister, she heard the death cries of both her mother and father before the men came into the cellar.

She tried to fight them but was quickly overwhelmed and subdued. Freya was dragged out kicking and screaming before disappearing upstairs forever from Izzy's sight. The tears came suddenly and quickly became rage that exploded out from her inside her body, the flames raging forth from her skin and consuming all in its sheer intensity. She fell unsconscious afterwards and was not to awaken for sometime to find she was trapped in the cellar. She had minor burns on her arms and legs, her clothing completely cinged beyond usefulness and after spending time escaping, she found clothing and took the only things she could find, her father's hunting and her mother's father's Quicksilver. Two prescious family heirlooms to save her sister.

At the tender age of thirteen, three months and six days shy of being fourteen, the young woman swore vengeance on the armed men that had killed her family, destroyed her home, destroyed her village and had taken Freya, her dearest sister. After changing clothes, she noticed something new on her right hip, the beginnings of a red mark shaped like a raven's talon slightly forming. Choosing to keep it hidden, Izzy changed her name to Aduro and took off to the streets.

Throughtout her years of living around Alessgrad, she has learnt a great deal about the Engineer's Guild and the power it wields unquestioningly. She seeks the creatures called the Angels in the vain hope her sister is one of them and she can still rescue her. During the years, she has learnt how to control the powers that have surfaced since the same night her sister was taken and has even used them to kill the same Engineer that had been the one who given her father the money.

She killed the man after eight years of training to shoot and working her body, relying on her own wits to stay alive in the streets and making money as a mercernary before finally tracking him down. Taking his life served two purpose, it was where she gained the revolver she calls Razor and she was able to avenge her father's death. For the last four years she has been tracking down the rumors of Angels and seeking to find what they are and why her sister was taken. A ton of questions still remain unanswered and she intends to find them in the Engineer's Guild.


Poly if I need to change anything let me know. Also if you want me to put the other info on my character sheet let me know.

[pwrgmrguard]

PM respond'd.

@Guard, the only big thing I see is that he's 'world champion' in a very insular society. They know other nation exist but buggered if they're going to go talk to them any time soon. If 'world champion' is just a title then it's all good.

World Champion just like the Yankees and Saints are .

Its just a title for being the best of their respective nation. Naturally, their nation is better than other nations so naturally, he's better than their champions and that makes him world champion. He's a former World Champ.

[polymphus]

Sweet. Just clarifying. Welcome aboard!

[polymphus]

Hokay. Still waiting on characters from a few of you. Will begin in a week, so get your apps up by then. If you can't but are still interested, PM me, tell me why and when you think you'll be done by. That way I can try and preplan a point to get you in later.

Poly

[The Custodian]

Quick question, in this world what is the status of religion? General beliefs and such...