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this is an old idea of mine, and while I've initially wanted to wait until 3rd Edition would be out- but I've decided that working on the fluff now won't be too difficult, and that unlike mechanics it won't be too hard to make few small adjustments to it according to the setting once the new edition would be out. Any thought and criticisms would be welcomed!
Nurihan's house was burned into ash.
He couldn't believe to that sight- it was like some sort of a mad dream. Everything he worked for- his possessions, his paintings.. his family- everything has turned into ash, carried by the cold wind. Now, he had nothing- he was nothing- and all because he didn't gave up on the job as the court's painter. He knew that his competitor was an aggressive person, but he never thought it would come down to this. He didn't even tried to make it look like an accident- there was a note on the burned house, near the scorched skeletons of his wife and children, saying "All of your bright colours has now turned to black. The painting of your soul in now torn and burned. If you are wise, you should never paint again".
Nurihan looked at the note, almost can't stop himself from crying. After what happened, he didn't thought he would ever pick a brush again in those life. Not out of fear, but because he simply couldn't. He knew that if he'll ever try, the sight of the burned skeletons and the ash in the wind would haunt him..
"Don't cry"
Nurihan looked around, surprised by the sudden voice. There was no one there. He started to think that perhaps he was starting to get mad out of sorrow, when the whisper was heard again- a delicate, feminine voice, echoing as if passed a great distance to reach him.
"Don't cry" the voice repeated "Tears are meant for the living, not the dead."
Suddenly, he felt a strong wave of warmth going through his body. All around him, the world has been covered with red mists and black shadows.
"The dead wish for for passion" the voice continued "They hunger for lust. They yearn for pain. Justice in their bread. Vengeance is their wine"
Nurihan looked up, and saw a terrible sight- he was no longer near his burned home. Instead, he was on a desolated world, surrounded by lifeless ground and endless darkness while a single source of light was a burning, blood-red sun.
"There is nothing without a price" the voice kept going, uncaring for Nurihan's horror "The scales must be balanced. The dead are hungry. Help them go to sleep. Fire was the one to devour them.."
there was a long silence, and then the voice whispered one more sentence.
"Fire would be the one to feed them"
A sudden pain went through Nurihan's body. He screamed as his muscles and bones shifted and moved, rearranging themselves into a better, stronger form. Just as he felt like his heart was going to explode- he suddenly saw the faces of his wife and children, smiling, laughing. For them, he would endure it- he would endure everything, just to let them rest in peace..
And then, as fast as it started, it was over. The pain has vanished, and he was back in front of his burned house- but something was different. He was different. He didn't felt sorrow anymore- instead, his mind was sharp, clearer then it ever was. He opened his bag and pulled a single item- a brush. Looking at it, he felt the smile showing upon his lips- he was wrong, apparently. He was going to make another painting in his life.
And this one would be blood red.
After the Primordials finished forging the world from raw chaos and created the gods to supervise it, they put one above them all to govern Creation as its great guardian- the Unconquered Sun. His light shined brightly as it cut through the Wyld and banished the horrors back to the dark sea from which they spawned. In order to make sure it would never fail in its mission, the makers has made him perfect- no one would ever be able to stand against him, and his radiance would burn all of the world's enemies into ash.
While the Primordials were happy with their creation, one has dared to doubt their success- the Wyld was the realm of endless possibilities. In that pure chaos, everything could happen. What would if one day, the impossible would be possible, and the Unconquered Sun would be conquered? While usually the proud Primordials would scuff such ideas as nonsense, the one to rise the question was Oramus. Knowing that he was among the wisest of their kind, the others heeded his warning and started to think about a plan to deal with that impossible scenario- and for that reason, they birthed another Sun, one which was like a dark mirror of her brother- dedicated to vengeance just as the former was dedicated for protection. It was Nemesis, the Blue Sun.
Seeing the strength of Nemesis, the Primordials wondered what they should with her while the Sun was still shining. There were already two suns in the Heaven, and another would be too much for the world to tolerate. Thankfully, the Dragon Behind the World has already thought about a solution- he put her in deep sleep and sent her to a place who while it was as distant from Creation as possible, it was also able to reach out everywhere on the world. An impossible place for an impossible plan, birthed by the maker of everything which never was- Cosmos, the Edge of the World.
While Oramus's specialty was thinking about the impossible, there was one thing he missed- that one day, the lowest among Creation would rise with the help of the gods and send him and his siblings into Hell. The Incarna, unaware that another was created, didn't searched after the delicate gates which bonded Cosmos to Creation, and so Nemesis was left alone, lost in the eternal darkness of her birthplace.
Until one day, she woke up.
No one knows when exactly it happened- there was a lot of chaos in the world since the Solars fell from their thrones, and there is no record of the first time the Breath of Nemesis has reached Creation. What is known that once she awakened, she saw that her makers bound or dead, that Creation was broken and that her own brothers and sisters were corrupted. While she has never saw Creation in her own eyes, she dreamed about it in her sleep- about a beautiful garden, guarded by five elements and illuminated by magnificent light. Now, her dream was ruined- and justice had to be done, even if the Heavens were to fall.
Filled with anger, she pierced her own chest. Shining more brightly then ever, and ripped a piece of her heart. The deed has diminished her, turning her fire from a scorching furnace into cold embers.She was still powerful, but not as she was once. Then, she scattered the pieces of her own broken heart and sent them through the gates. It took hundreds of years for the burning comets of her hatred to reach the Creation, but once they did they immediately found people to carry her rage- people who were broken and lost, that everything was taken from them, that corrupted law has bound them, that all which was pure in their soul was defiled by the deeds of others. Those people absorbed her scorching fire, and those who survived the heat were able to hear the message which was hidden in the visions of their long lost Patron- this world is broken. Fix it.
Since then, the Cosmic Exalts (as they name themselves after the whereabouts of their goddess) travel Creation. Some seek to find a way to bring their Patron back to Creation, replacing the corrupted Sun who cared nothing for their life with a more passionate one. Others simply wished to see the all world burn, and allied themselves with forbidden gods, demons or the dead (especially the latter, since manipulating dead Essence felt natural for their abilities). Most, however, carry out their own little vengeance and bring their own form of justice. This world is not a paradise- but it could be.
Someone just need to pay the price.
so- let's speak about my visions for their mechanics a bit. They are meant to be Solaroid in terms of power level- maybe not as strong as a Solar, but still close enough to stand toe to toe with them. They are equal to Abyssals in terms of Necromancy, being able to reach through all of 3 circles. They can reach up to Celestial Circle in Sorcery and Martial Arts, and maybe they can get of Sidereal Martial arts under a guidance (as Solars). They aren't that good with Evocations, which they gain from Soulsteel, and their Charms are Attribute based. I'm also thinking about a system which allows them to bind the souls of the guilty to themselves as some sort of "Vestments" who enhance their abilities, but I'm not sure how that would work. I also have zero idea about names for their Castes.
so, what do you think?
Nurihan's house was burned into ash.
He couldn't believe to that sight- it was like some sort of a mad dream. Everything he worked for- his possessions, his paintings.. his family- everything has turned into ash, carried by the cold wind. Now, he had nothing- he was nothing- and all because he didn't gave up on the job as the court's painter. He knew that his competitor was an aggressive person, but he never thought it would come down to this. He didn't even tried to make it look like an accident- there was a note on the burned house, near the scorched skeletons of his wife and children, saying "All of your bright colours has now turned to black. The painting of your soul in now torn and burned. If you are wise, you should never paint again".
Nurihan looked at the note, almost can't stop himself from crying. After what happened, he didn't thought he would ever pick a brush again in those life. Not out of fear, but because he simply couldn't. He knew that if he'll ever try, the sight of the burned skeletons and the ash in the wind would haunt him..
"Don't cry"
Nurihan looked around, surprised by the sudden voice. There was no one there. He started to think that perhaps he was starting to get mad out of sorrow, when the whisper was heard again- a delicate, feminine voice, echoing as if passed a great distance to reach him.
"Don't cry" the voice repeated "Tears are meant for the living, not the dead."
Suddenly, he felt a strong wave of warmth going through his body. All around him, the world has been covered with red mists and black shadows.
"The dead wish for for passion" the voice continued "They hunger for lust. They yearn for pain. Justice in their bread. Vengeance is their wine"
Nurihan looked up, and saw a terrible sight- he was no longer near his burned home. Instead, he was on a desolated world, surrounded by lifeless ground and endless darkness while a single source of light was a burning, blood-red sun.
"There is nothing without a price" the voice kept going, uncaring for Nurihan's horror "The scales must be balanced. The dead are hungry. Help them go to sleep. Fire was the one to devour them.."
there was a long silence, and then the voice whispered one more sentence.
"Fire would be the one to feed them"
A sudden pain went through Nurihan's body. He screamed as his muscles and bones shifted and moved, rearranging themselves into a better, stronger form. Just as he felt like his heart was going to explode- he suddenly saw the faces of his wife and children, smiling, laughing. For them, he would endure it- he would endure everything, just to let them rest in peace..
And then, as fast as it started, it was over. The pain has vanished, and he was back in front of his burned house- but something was different. He was different. He didn't felt sorrow anymore- instead, his mind was sharp, clearer then it ever was. He opened his bag and pulled a single item- a brush. Looking at it, he felt the smile showing upon his lips- he was wrong, apparently. He was going to make another painting in his life.
And this one would be blood red.
After the Primordials finished forging the world from raw chaos and created the gods to supervise it, they put one above them all to govern Creation as its great guardian- the Unconquered Sun. His light shined brightly as it cut through the Wyld and banished the horrors back to the dark sea from which they spawned. In order to make sure it would never fail in its mission, the makers has made him perfect- no one would ever be able to stand against him, and his radiance would burn all of the world's enemies into ash.
While the Primordials were happy with their creation, one has dared to doubt their success- the Wyld was the realm of endless possibilities. In that pure chaos, everything could happen. What would if one day, the impossible would be possible, and the Unconquered Sun would be conquered? While usually the proud Primordials would scuff such ideas as nonsense, the one to rise the question was Oramus. Knowing that he was among the wisest of their kind, the others heeded his warning and started to think about a plan to deal with that impossible scenario- and for that reason, they birthed another Sun, one which was like a dark mirror of her brother- dedicated to vengeance just as the former was dedicated for protection. It was Nemesis, the Blue Sun.
Seeing the strength of Nemesis, the Primordials wondered what they should with her while the Sun was still shining. There were already two suns in the Heaven, and another would be too much for the world to tolerate. Thankfully, the Dragon Behind the World has already thought about a solution- he put her in deep sleep and sent her to a place who while it was as distant from Creation as possible, it was also able to reach out everywhere on the world. An impossible place for an impossible plan, birthed by the maker of everything which never was- Cosmos, the Edge of the World.
While Oramus's specialty was thinking about the impossible, there was one thing he missed- that one day, the lowest among Creation would rise with the help of the gods and send him and his siblings into Hell. The Incarna, unaware that another was created, didn't searched after the delicate gates which bonded Cosmos to Creation, and so Nemesis was left alone, lost in the eternal darkness of her birthplace.
Until one day, she woke up.
No one knows when exactly it happened- there was a lot of chaos in the world since the Solars fell from their thrones, and there is no record of the first time the Breath of Nemesis has reached Creation. What is known that once she awakened, she saw that her makers bound or dead, that Creation was broken and that her own brothers and sisters were corrupted. While she has never saw Creation in her own eyes, she dreamed about it in her sleep- about a beautiful garden, guarded by five elements and illuminated by magnificent light. Now, her dream was ruined- and justice had to be done, even if the Heavens were to fall.
Filled with anger, she pierced her own chest. Shining more brightly then ever, and ripped a piece of her heart. The deed has diminished her, turning her fire from a scorching furnace into cold embers.She was still powerful, but not as she was once. Then, she scattered the pieces of her own broken heart and sent them through the gates. It took hundreds of years for the burning comets of her hatred to reach the Creation, but once they did they immediately found people to carry her rage- people who were broken and lost, that everything was taken from them, that corrupted law has bound them, that all which was pure in their soul was defiled by the deeds of others. Those people absorbed her scorching fire, and those who survived the heat were able to hear the message which was hidden in the visions of their long lost Patron- this world is broken. Fix it.
Since then, the Cosmic Exalts (as they name themselves after the whereabouts of their goddess) travel Creation. Some seek to find a way to bring their Patron back to Creation, replacing the corrupted Sun who cared nothing for their life with a more passionate one. Others simply wished to see the all world burn, and allied themselves with forbidden gods, demons or the dead (especially the latter, since manipulating dead Essence felt natural for their abilities). Most, however, carry out their own little vengeance and bring their own form of justice. This world is not a paradise- but it could be.
Someone just need to pay the price.
so- let's speak about my visions for their mechanics a bit. They are meant to be Solaroid in terms of power level- maybe not as strong as a Solar, but still close enough to stand toe to toe with them. They are equal to Abyssals in terms of Necromancy, being able to reach through all of 3 circles. They can reach up to Celestial Circle in Sorcery and Martial Arts, and maybe they can get of Sidereal Martial arts under a guidance (as Solars). They aren't that good with Evocations, which they gain from Soulsteel, and their Charms are Attribute based. I'm also thinking about a system which allows them to bind the souls of the guilty to themselves as some sort of "Vestments" who enhance their abilities, but I'm not sure how that would work. I also have zero idea about names for their Castes.
so, what do you think?
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