[OoC][Exalted 2.5] Emerald Labyrinth

[Dietaku]

Here is the OoC thread for my Exalted game. Remember to have fun and let's all positive thinking!

If everyone can post their characters here when they're done, it would be greatly appreciated.

[Wise Old Guru]

Here's a link to the current character sheet for Nergui. Guy's got a couple things that might be iffy for the ST to sign off on. Most notably I've taken the Brutal Attack merit (yeah, I know, but it's the only way to play a clumsy gentle giant and still get to hit people occasionally) and done a little bit of homebrew to stat up his artifact harpoon (it's pretty much a Direlance with thrown stats like an artifact javelin). I don't think the game currently has stats for impaling a guy and then pulling him back to you using a rope attached to your spear? But that's something I want to do at some point, so just a head's up. Let me know if you see anything that needs tweaking.

Guy's a Full Moon who's a bit of a Gentle Giant. He comes with an airship, three minions, and a dog. Please do not kick the dog.

Since I always doodle to figure out what a character looks like before coming up with them, here's a rough character concept sketch for Nergui and Gray.

[Dietaku]

The Brutal Attack and harpoon delaie are fine, Guru. I also quite like the picture. It's quite evocative.

I suppose I ought to detail some of the geographyof the Labyrinth Forest.

Last Chance exists on the southeast side of the Emerald, which itself is about five hundred miles northwest of Icehome, in the frozen ice of the White Sea. Seemingly formed of an ancient atoll, the Emerald that contains the Labyrinth Forest is incredibly large, about six hundred square miles of land are said to be contained in this space. Not much is known of the entirety of the Labyrinth Forest, though, as the flora and fauna tend to eat most plucky explorers and chuck their bones back at the more cautious squatters. That being said, the two hundred years or so of exploration have taught the natives of Last Chance that caution is the better part of valor in this strange land, and that what they can gather of pillage from the dead animals and plants, are incredibly strong and useful materials not available anywhere else.

Last Chance itself is a small trading town, with the usual airship docks and warehouses that characterize most Haslan trading towns, but also possesses an unusual residential district filled with housing usually seen in other regions. This is accomodated by the fact that the Labyrinth Forest's temperate climate is more forgiving of foreign construction and aesthetics, but also because a large foreign population exists that seeks the wealth of the Forest for themselves. This is where most commerce occurs, as many enterprises exists solely to kit out adventurers or to haul out their finds back into use by the Haslanti League. While the Guild has managed to find a small foothold here, they are but one of many major trading companies, from the Icecrown Traders to the Sons of Meldreo Ironsong all peddling their wares to great effect,

Next time, actually the Labyrinth's geography!

[Dietaku]

The Labyrinth's Geography

As stated before, the Labyrinth is not been explored in its entirety, with the southern sections nearby Last Chance the most well known. To the immediate north of Last Chance, is the Eternal ice Tower, an immaculately kept structure whose inner workings are a mystery to those who have lived in Last Chance all their lives. Fresh, clear water bubbles up out of canals built into the sides of the tower, and travels across several ancient canals made of similar material to the Ice Tower itself, although several lakes and even a large bog exist nearby, suggesting that they all come from the same source. The canals flow by Last Chance, providing the town's water, although the destination of the canal is unknown. Scouts have never confirmed the existence of another human settlement, and soi the matter is one of many mysteries of the area.

In addition, there is a collection of ruins to the northwest. Dubbed the Beesee Sen Towers due to garbled Old Realm on the structures, many relics and useful materials have been found there. That being said, a number of powerful beasts also reside there, making the journey a deadly gamble to all but the strongest hunters.

Outside of that, the Emerald is largely unknown, becoming a collection of temperate, pine and fern forests of varying types. Explorers have mentioned seeing towers with flashing lights, roads made of scuttling beetles and houses where gods produce food on demand, giant armored beasts that breathe fire, and bipedal dragons that speak in a language unknown to even the wisest scholars, but none of these have been confirmed, dismissed as either hearsay or the ramblings of those poor half-mad souls who managed to return from a trip through the deep forest.

[Exthalion]

Here is Twenty-Fifth Merciful, Pyrian Malefactor.

Sheet
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1...it?usp=sharing

Backstory

Once there was a Mortal…

Once there was a man of Whitewall who lived his life. That he did this may seem trivial, but he did not think so then. This man was a mine foreman, like his father and grandfather before him. Times were sometimes lean, but there was always food, clothing, and shelter. The family had heat in winter and enough leisure that their spirits were not ground down.

Eventually, only slightly younger than was expected, this man was married. Her name was Elenore, and she was a smiling young woman he thought beautiful. Their first child, a healthy boy, was born not long after. The child was the light of their lives so they named him Aiden. Six years later a daughter joined the family in the spring. The day she was born there was a rainbow around the sun so they called her Enfys because she had brought new color to their lives.

For many years the man of Whitewall was content. When it pleased Heaven there were difficult times or easy but the man was wise enough to know the same was true for everyone. Whatever he did later, it was a decent life and he knew it.

Some years ago his father was killed when a tunnel collapsed. For years the output of the mine had been dwindling and so the owners had directed the foremen to dig new and more numerous tunnels in the hopes of uncovering additional seams so that they could fulfill their own obligations. As the most experienced under-foreman, the man replaced his father as overseer of the mine. Though the owners sympathized they continued to require new delving. So the man of Whitewall did his job and met every quota even as the number of accident continued to increase.

Around this time his wife became pregnant with their third child. In the midst of moving to the overseer’s quarters that his father had previously occupied the man evaluated his life and began to grow dissatisfied. He foresaw his son following in his profession, as he had followed in his father’s; he foresaw his daughter marrying the son of one of his workmen, as his wife had done; and he foresaw himself dying in the house he was born in, if he were lucky. It wasn’t good enough. His children deserved a better life than he had lived.

…who became a Mendicant.

From time to time a miner or ruin delver would find some treasure and bring it to the city. Even the least of these was worth enough to buy a life richer than the man of Whitewall led. So he began to spend less time with his family, even though they needed him more, and searched the caves and clefs near the mine he oversaw for the thing that would bring comfort to his wife and security to his children.

It was in one such cave, while sheltering from a sudden storm, that he thought he found what he thought he was looking for. The room he found himself in was a large, vaulted hall and everything seemed to shine with gold and amber light. It was like none of the ruins his workers occasionally discovered and nothing resembled the objects he expected to find. He disregarded the uncertainty of unfamiliarity and continued deeper into the hall. At the far end was a stone pyre and on that a sword that could not be mistaken for mundane. He wrapped it in his cloak and departed for the city at once. The storm that forced him into the cave had subsided with every step he took across the hall.

When he stepped into Whitewall the blade freed itself from his grip and the cloak it was wrapped in settled as though some unseen person wore it. The raksha whose sword grace he had taken into the city laughed as it began to slay whatever its gaze fell upon whether that thing was male or female, child or adult, human or beast. No blood ran through the streets, each stroke painted an epitaph on the white walls describing the beauty of every death. In that fashion the fey ran through the streets, singing as it went. The man never discovered how or if it was stopped.

No one came to visit him during the several months he was in prison afterwards. If they were not permitted to come or never tried to he chooses not to know.

When the time for the yearly sacrifice came he and everyone else guilty of high crimes were gathered and the guards began to read from the list given to them. Some of those they called were dead, hoping to avoid this fate. Yet one by one twenty-three were chosen. His was the last name called. They shackled him, unresisting, to the rest of the grim-faced chosen. As they did so, a man was dragged screaming into the room. This man, whose name had been called already, had escaped the week before and just been recaptured. Mutely, the man of Whitewall watched as his bonds were removed and affixed to the struggling man.

Both guards and prisoners muttered about Twenty-Fifth Merciful as they returned to their duties and cells. As he too went back he caught the attention of his guard and asked what they were talking about. “They are talking of the god who whispers in the judges’ ears as they pen the fatal lists, who led the hunters as they tracked that man, and who has seen fit to save you just now though you offered him nothing. It seems he does not care that you failed to pray, for they will pray again come next year. They always do.”

The next night, glad in prison rags, he too was thrown beyond the gate though no unseelie host or restless dead waited. Some of the other exiles were met by friends or family who provided them with food or warm clothing, most were not. He walked for a while, he didn’t notice toward which direction, until his strength gave out in the cold.

He confronted his Mortality...

The man of Whitewall watched the sky for a time, his frostbitten limbs lay still when he tried to move them. The only sound was the whisper of the stars as his breath froze and fell. Then the ringing became a wordless voice and began to speak to him.

“It is fitting that you die here, abandon and broken; the whole world is dying.”

There was silence while he drew another pained breath. He thought he had gone made, and found he didn’t care. “I tried, suffered, so they wouldn’t have to...” As he finished the tinkling began again.

“It is fitting that your own actions damn you; the whole world is damned.”

“They should have better...” The pain of cold began to retreat, replaced by a warmth he knew meant his limbs were dying.

“Your kind was never meant for this, never meant to rule or rise above your station.
So here you, as the world, die. It is time to try another way.”

“Too late now, too tired and too weak…” The warmth had faded too, now there was no feeling at all.

“Let go of your liberty. Lay down your rights. Surrender everything to the hands that made you.
Be reconciled to them and to the rightness you have never known.”

The man from Whitewall didn’t have enough strength to draw another breath. As he finished that last exhalation his black lips formed the shape of a single word.

It was enough.

... and met a Malefactor...

He sought Company in Misery...

It was night again when the man of Whitewall next awoke. Fragments of smoking ice surrounded him and the air was freezing air was pleasant. He looked down at himself without recognition. The charcoal grey of frostbite still stained his skin and his flesh was cold to the touch. After a few moments he gave up the examination. What he looked like didn’t matter and besides, it was fitting.

The first person he met was one of those prisoners who had received aid. Now she lay dying as he had been and no demon waited for her.

“Do you want to live?” he said as her eyes opened wide in recognition.

“Please…”

“Will you accept the pain that life brings?”

“Yes.” Her answer was the same as his had been. Her fate should be no different.

“For the life you have lost and the life you have been given, you owe me two services. You shall carry them out all the days of your life or a harsher and more binding doom will come upon you. First, seven times each day you will offer me prayer of thanksgiving. Fail in this and I command you go to Marama’s Fell and cry out that you wish your soul beaten into iron until the hungry dead come for you. Second, you will see to comfort of the widow of the miner who was exiled with you, so long as your aid is never known. Shirk this duty and I command you seek out the Winter Court and proclaim you come that they might make you sad forever. Do you understand me exile?”

“Yes, Twenty-Fifth Merciful. Forgive me, for I did not believe.”

“Your belief is not required, only your obedience.” Those were the last words he spoke to her as he walked away.

... and found it in a Broken City.

Not every stranger in the wastes was commanded to see to the comfort of a family in Whitewall. The North is too vast for such an order to be meaningful. Still, Haslanti scouts, lost Guildsmen, and Icewalker not-yet-men accepted his offer just as readily as anyone else. Nor was it only humans who fell into his debt. Eventually, the petty victories no longer satisfied him. Those who fell into his power were individuals, their lives and failings were small. He was made to break kingdoms. So be started to call in favors.

At a site south of Icehome, Guild thaumaturges began to summon demons en mass. Some were seized at once by their fellows to be rendered into calcanth while others began to clear the space. Using techniques forgotten when the Lintha, fell demonic artisans shaped their kin into buildings, roads, plazas, and other architectural features. When the trap was finished he called human debtors to him and dispatched them to report the discovery of the “ruin of the Age of Splendors”.

The powers of the area began to converge on the icy ruin. At first their scouting parties maintained an uneasy peace. Then they began to die. They quickly cast blame on each other and soon the Agata streets shone red in the Gilmyne light. The nations sent angry messages back and forth, until head began to cool and talk of peace and reparations began. That was when the second wave of favors came due and previously moderate parties began to agitate. The killing stroke came when the sorcerer of the Haslanti responsible for Infallible Messages fell into Twenty-Fifth Merciful’s power. Where once it seemed war might be averted, hostilities began with surprising fervor.

Calling more and yet more favors due, Merciful caused the conflict to escalate further. Atrocity was answered with atrocity until no less than three of the irreplaceable greenfields were reduced to ash. Only then did the belligerents realize the scope of what they had done. When a full accounting of death and damage was taken the totals were staggering. The intervention of the Bull of the North and the Realm had left everyone weakened and exposed. Five nations and three greenfields had been involved and so what had started as an Exalted’s dissatisfaction was called the War of Five Kings and Three Valleys.

The ruin that followed was pleasing to the Ebon Dragon.

He wandered down Into Darkness...

The last of the Emeralds burned about him, and the heat of it troubled him not. He saw knots of soldiers still fighting as if their victory could somehow turn back the river and make this place green. He couldn't tell who they fought for, grime and ash had turned all the bright colors of they wore to grey. It didn't matter, whoever won was already dead. Supplies had been exhausted, nothing edible was left here save the flesh of the slain, and the nearest settlement was weeks away. If something survived, it would no longer be human. He kept walking.

He thought he heard breathing, once, from a field of little mounds where ash had covered the dead. On a whim he spoke to the corpses,

"You made the wrong choice. There is no glory for your like in this, no honor in blood and slaughter. You should have stayed home, close to those who loved you. Now they will always wonder and never know. You made your choice, and this is the price you pay for it. Welcome to hell." The tiny gleam of silver mixed in with the soot escaped his notice.

Deeper and deeper into burned emerald he traveled, until the charcoal sky became black, the white of fine ash on the ground grew silver, and the weak orange sun rose green. He had spoken of hell to the dead, now he had entered it.

Twenty-Fifth Merciful was no scholar or sage, he did not know what he had done. Yet, in an unwholesome way, it felt like coming home. The desert sands did not scour him. The hot wind uncovered paths of ancient stone to ease his way. Flitting shadows crossed the angry sun and whispered ill comforts.

"They deserved it." they said. "They made their own bed. They sowed their own woe."

Softer, sweeter, and more frequent, they grew about him until he reached the black gate of Malfeas with midnight's Shadow upon the sun.

"It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong."

There was nothing more he longed to hear and nothing that sickened him more.

"Yes I did! I am responsible! They are dead because of me!"

"They were already dead." The darkness crawled around him as he entered the city. In the distance he heard the sound of a great horn that called him forward. The voice in the dark's call was stronger.

"They began to die even as they were born." The brazen trees were a canopy of verdigris and viridian, the only thing the green sun was permitted to strke. Shadows of men and women were born and died beneath them even as Twenty-Fifth Merciful traveled. No living thing entered his sight or intruded on his hearing or disturbed him with its scent.

"What does a handful of years mean? What does a score of miles change? You gave their tiny leaves meaning, you gave them choice. They were the ones who could not accept dying in sight of their birthplace. Do you really think you had the right to give them that choice and then make it for them?"

"Those years could have mattered to them! They could have lived and loved..."

"... or suffered and died. That was their purpose, and they have fulfilled it admirably."

"Their purpose? How can you say what their purpose was?"

"Because I made them." There was no sound in hell, but the echo of silent laughter.

"You released them from obligation and restrained. You made them free. Could anything short of your actions have taken them so far? They lived a lifetime in the weeks before their end. They filled that lifetime with more meaning and beauty than could have existed in the mummery they thought was life. How could that be wrong? How could that be anything less than the greatest gift?"

"It was a gift to die alone, in fear and pain?"

"Everyone dies alone. Not everyone is allowed to live."

With those words the night passed, and the eternal day of Ligier returned with a clangor of gongs and wailing flutes.

yet he is still a Man.

Twenty-Fifth Merciful remembers the name his parents gave him, but he makes no use of it. Better that he died in Winter Exile than knowledge of what he became stain his family’s reputation further. It is for that same reason that those of his cult near the city live in such fear of allowing their assistance to be known.

Though he has ruined thousands of lives in service to the Yozi, the urge Adorjan placed on his soul has never grown less keen. The discomfort it brings him is visible in his eyes, everyone he looks upon seems to hide some foulness that must be exposed. Yet for all that other people are unlovely to him, he finds himself most abhorrent. Even with all that he has done for his new masters, very little has really changed. He knows that his own pettiness, the longing to ensure three, or perhaps four, mortals are taken care of, holds him back from his duty.

It may be petty, but he still wants to smile as Aiden begged to come to work with him or see Enfys dancing in the springtime or watch Elenore sing by the riverside.

When he thinks of them he cannot see the flaw that he has been commanded to exploit. He knows his wife and children, knows they are imperfect, and knows that none of them deserve what he does to those who’s wishes he grants. This realization has made him wonder how much of the ruin that he has unleashed occurred not because of the weakness of his victims, but because he pushed men and women farther than they would ever have gone on their own.

Note: There is no god actually called Twenty-Fifth Merciful. The god's theoretical purview belongs to the Syndics. However, humans are irrational creatures and prisoners and family are desperate to believe that something can be done. And where there are desperate people there are cons willing to tell them what they want to hear (and cash in). So people invent new rituals every year and families pay disreputable thaumaturges, and the ones who live believe that what they did had something to do with it.

Also, there is a backstory section I haven't written, and may not get around to what with RL, about him dealing with the guilt of his actions by going to Malfeas, meeting the Pyrian Flame, and achieving a math-zen when he entered her name where she dwells.

[wonderandawe]

Background on Lin Zarah:

Lin Zarah was born on the Blessed Isle to a wealthy merchant family. In the past few generations, her family had made trade connections though out the South and Scavenger Lands. Though she had no hope of exalting, her family has risen sufficiently in power and wealth to afford to send her to the Spiral Academy. She graduated with high honors (for a mortal) and was taken under the wing of her grandmother, Lin Elda to learn more about the family business.

Unfortunately, a wealthy family with poor Terrestrial Breeding is very vulnerable in the Scarlet Empire. After considering a few different options, her family decided to try to marry into a patrician house. Zarah and a few of her other cousins began to attend a few society events in order to attract the attentions of one of the patrician houses.

At one such party, things went horribly wrong. One of her male cousins was accused of raping a Peleps Dynast child. The accusations were unfounded, but he was put to death anyways. Zarah was imprisoned and given the option of being married off to some minor Peleps mortal. It was a scheme by the Dynast house to take over the family shipping business. The rest of her family collected what wealth they could and scattered to their properties in the threshold before the wedding. Zarah’s grandmother stayed with her, since the woman felt that it was her fault that Zarah was in this position.

Years passed. Once Zarah and Elda felt it was safe, they began to enact a plan to dismantle the trade and economy of the House Peleps. During this time, Zarah had a daughter who was sent to the House of Bells when the girl was old enough. Though Zarah was discouraged from spending time with Camilla, the two managed to grow close. Eventually Camilla was brought in on the secret plan. The connections she was making in the House of Bells were useful for the family cause.

It was during one of the many planning sessions with her grandmother and daughter that Zarah exalted as a Solar Eclipse. Instead of decrying her granddaughter as Anathema, Elda took it in stride. They were going against the Princes of the Earth. Of course one of them would become Anathema. Camilla seemed less certain, but eventually came to believe that Zarah was still her mother, not some demon.

Using her Eclipse abilities, the damage Zarah could do increased a hundred fold. Of course that was the problem. She was doing too much too fast and attracted attention. One of Zarah’s contacts warned her that the Dynast Guards were coming. Her grandmother, not wanting to leave the Blessed Isle, covered for Zarah as she escaped on a ship headed north.

Without her grandmother to focus Zarah on vengeance for her family’s wealth, Zarah wonders if she could do something more with her power than destroy. She worries about Camilla, who she left at the House of Bells. She arranged to send the last of her savings to the girl, but there is no way to know if Camilla got it or not.

Zarah has been in the north for about a month or two. She is fresh from the Blessed Isle and it shows. She has no basic survival skills, but has managed to thrive by using what little money she has to make some good investment choices in the area. She is still trying to get use to the more informal Northern methods of law, contracts, and ownership. Fortunately, she is a quick study.

Zarah doesn't really stand out, unlike most social characters. She is there in the background, making deals and getting things done. People who have had business dealings with her know her to be reliable and willing to bend a few rules to see results. She is basically that person at work that everyone knows but no one thinks about until they need something done right. Though, in the North, she doesn't have many contacts as she did on the Blessed Isle.

Also, she is not above breaking a few laws to see results.

Physical Description (I'll clean this up later on):

Zarah is a curvy woman of above average height. She had long dark brown wavy hair and green eyes. She wears fine but practical clothing.

Picture of Zarah as a Imperial Beaurcrat (Thanks to Deviant Art): http://www.deviantart.com/art/L5R-Ki...eper-378865543

Character Sheet: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B-U...Z2cFBUeU0/view

[dreamking89]

Alright, I finished up one of my favorite concepts for an Exalted character: Orca, the Firedust Hurricane

Backstory/Physical Description: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1...it?usp=sharing

Character Sheet: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B__...ew?usp=sharing

Orca doesn't have too many Intimacies because he hasn't been in the North too long. If I think of any more, I'll certainly add them and edit the link.

[Magnusar]

Ok character is done just need the ST to approve it and I'm ready to get started

Unrestrained Lover of Technological Advancement
Concept: Weapon Scientist
Caste: Orichalcum
Anima Banner: Yellow lightning crack aroud him while gears and others bits of machinery form a terrible war automaton bristling with weapons it's head is a human skull with mechanical eyes.
Motivation: Find or Create a technology to eradicate the void from the great maker

Intimacy
- Autochton (Devout service)

Caste Attributes
Strenght: 3
Charisma: 3
Intelligence: 5 (6)

Favored Attributes
Dexterity: 3
Stamina: 2
Wits: 5

Other Attributes
Appearance: 2
Perception: 3
Manipulation: 2

Warfare
Archery: 3 + 1 Essence Weapons
Athletics:
Awerenes:
Dodge:
Integrity: 3
Martial Arts:
Melee:
Resistance:
Thrown:
War:

Labor
Craft: 4
Larceny:
Linguistics: 2 (Native: Autochtonian, Old Realm, Skytongue)
Performance:
Presence:
Ride:
Sail:
Socialise:
Stealth:
Survival:

Learning
Bureaucracy:
Investigation:
Lore: 5 + 2 Magitech Weapons, + 1 Automaton
Medicine:
Occult: 5

Charms (4 General slot, 5 Dedicated slot)
Strenght
-
Charisma
-
Intelligence
- First Intelligence Augmentation (1m) (1m per die added)
- Fourth Intelligence Augmentation (1m)
- Sixth Intelligence Augmentation (Craft) (1m)
- Precision Tools of the Mind Submodule (Can choose to use intelligence on all crafting check)
- Omnitool implant (1m) (4m activation)
Dexterity
- First Dexterity Augmentation (1m)
- Dynamic Reaction Enhancement System (144) (1m) (2m cost to activate)
- Transhuman Efficiency Relays (1m)
Wits
- Incomparable Efficiency Upgrade (144) (6m,1w cost to activate)
- Transcendent Multimodal Artifact Matrix (168) (1m)
- Essence pulse cannon (Cost one mote per shot/Cost 5m to deploy)
Speed 6, Accuracy +9 (with dex and archery), Damage 10L/15B, Rate 3, Range 100, Tags F, P
Stamina
-
Backgrounds 7/10
- Artifacts 3
- Precision Goggles (Artifact 2)
- Flaw scanner (Artifact 1)
- Transformative Armor (Artifact 2)
- Folding Servant (Artifact 2)
- Translation Crystal (Aritfact 2)
- Savant 3
- Ressource 3
- Backing 3 Jadeborn (Normally the free background Class 3)
- Backing 1 Hastlani League

Essence: 3
Personnal: 9/17 (8 commited to charms)
Peripheral: 47/51 (5 commited to artifacts)

Willpower: 10
compassion: 2 Temperance: 2
Conviction: 3 Valor: 2

Soak: 7L/6B (2L/2B Hardness)

Health: -0x1,-1x2,-2x5,-4x1,Incapacitated

Clarity 0/10

Bonus points 20/20
- 10 Raise essence from 2 to 3.
- 5 raise willpower from 5 to 10.
- 3 points to buy 1 dedicated charm slot
- 1 point to buy one charm
- 1 point to buy one submodule


Merits and flaws
- Obligation 2pts The Beast as said that it would be back to request his help one day.

Physical Description
Unrestrained lover is average in both height and weight with bronze like skin, purple eyes and he is always seen wearing a stylish black and blue two piece work uniform along with a white lab coat and combat boots. Part of his skin in his face is covered in intricate orichalcum motonic circuitry that pulse with his essence at regular interval. These runs from his neck to side of his face near his cheeks before meeting up with his hair which he keeps long but a few inches from his shoulder, to keep some his implant hidden until they are in use. Part of a large spine implant can be seen to begin or end from the lower back of his head and descend along his neck until dissapearing in his clothes. Right now however his usual atire his covered with a magnificient mammoth fur coat of the finest craftmanship (he made it after blowing the head of one with his essence cannon, he got a bit jumpy when it came his way.)


Background
Commissioned five years ago by the city of Arat to work in the munifactory as a artificer and researcher though he aquited himself quite well he was never fully satified with is work. It was never enough for him and the other alchemicals started to grow tired of his attitude but his results where good and so they endured it but it was not to last. An incident occured in one of the lab that was working with elsewhere technologies which triggered a massive but concentrated blast of essence that desintegrated most of what was in it's path but not Unrestrained Lover who was caught in it. Of the alchemical no trace remained behind but death did not claimed him for he found himself in a strange land of cold and snow with terrible winds carriying ice that cut like glass. Confused, lost and freezing he began to wander to find shelter but instead was found by a strange beast that walked and talked like a man, the beast did not introduced itself nor did he said who sent him only that he was here to guide him to safety and help understand where he was.

The beast though clearly surprised by the alchemical nature of Unrestrained Lover guided him to a herd of mammoth to get some supplies for the alchemical and hunted one of the herd for it's skin an meat to continue on their journey. The beast explained where the alchemical was and it was not long before Unrestrained Lover got one thing for sure he was no longer in Autochtonia. That was 3 months ago since then Unrestrained Lover as begun integrating himself with the only power in the north worth making an alliance with, (in his mind at least) the Hastlani League, he is facinated by their flying ship and as proposed his help in perfecting their design.

[dreamking89]

So on a scale of 1 to Nexus, about how big is Last Chance?

[Noodle]

Here's the character sheet for Joachim Vietsonson.

Joachim is a No Moon Lunar; a smart and sneaky man in his late twenties, wise in both urban and wild environments. He bears an intense hatred of the Fae for slaughtering his homestead, a prosperous Emerald not too far from Iceholm. He's mildly patriotic, but his hatred of the Fae overpowered his patriotism long enough for him to develop a friendship with Merciful.

[Dietaku]

Lover looks good, Magnusar.

Assuming we're using the Magnus' scale of Urban Advancement, where 10 is First Age Maru and Nexus is an upper 8? It'd be a solid 2. Last Chance lacks many permanent residents, but makes up for it with its robust infrastructure, having a large airship dock and series of warehouses to hold the many trade goods it processes. All it needs to explode is better PR and a band of adventurers to prove to the others that the Labyrinth Forest is worth their time and trouble to invest in.

Also, Joachim looks good. I'll be posting the IC thread momentarily.

[Exthalion]

Just to be clear, I have Loom-Snarling Deception up to look like an essence 1 mortal human.

[dreamking89]

Just so I'm sure, we are all aware that the PCs are Exalted, right?

[wonderandawe]

I'm going to assume yes, except for Exthalion's character who seems to be taking some effort to hide himself.

[Wise Old Guru]

Nergui makes no real effort to hide his Exalted nature. He has on at least two occasions just said, "I am going to look ahead," and flown off as a seagull to scout ahead of the airship when the weather looked iffy. His crew occasionally tell stories of him fighting the Winter Folk, tales which...rather improbably exaggerate his prowess, but which do include descriptions of him burning with white light.

So...yeah, if you've been on the ship, feel free to know.