Vathris
King of the Underworld
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Hello good folk of the Sanctum. My name is Vathris, and I would like to tell you a story……
I have been writing for just about all of my adult life. I love to craft personal, involving stories with deep and interesting characters. Through some of my toughest moments my writing has been what I have turned to to get me through the bad times, and it has also made me happy in the good times.
I have many, many ideas floating around in my deranged mind, ideas that I would like to share with you, and hopefully I will see some interest for some of these ideas.
For any prospective role player I think it's important to understand what I am, and more importantly, what I am not.
1. I'm all about the story. I love to tell tales of high fantasy, tales of gothic horror and tales of brave heroes striving against unimaginable odds. All of these tales are encapsulated in some form below. These aren't your typical roleplay, these are fully fleshed out stories with a defined starting and end point — however how you reach that endpoint is entirely down to you and where the role play goes.
2) I'm looking for a collaborative storyteller rather than someone who will craft a character to fit a particular niche to match my character. I want a roleplayer who will help me craft my tale and the world as part of that tale. Although I will provide details of the character I intend to play, I am not looking for someone to play a particular role. I am looking for someone to create a character that they want to play and will be a good thematic fit for the game. In turn the story will be built around that character. Give me the character YOU want to play, not the character I want you to play.
3) I like romance subplots as much as the next person, but that is not the focus of the game. If the roleplay moves in that direction and it makes sense in context of the characters and the way they interact with each other then great, let's see where it goes — however it is not a necessity for the game. Essentially I want to tell you a fantastical tale of adventure and derring-do, romance may play a part in that, but it is not the sole focus or purpose of the game. These are traditional tales of fantasy and horror, of good vs. evil. Of heroes facing down an army of the dead or coming face to face with a dragon hell bent on devouring them.
4) Death is a possibility. We don't always have happy endings. Your, or indeed my character may die if that's where the story leads. If that happens you will, of course, continue with an alternative. I may be a twisted storyteller, but I am certainly not a monster.
5) I don't do smut. Sorry if that's a dealbreaker, but it's just not me. I'm not good at it at all, and I'm also quite uncomfortable writing it — just the way I roll I'm afraid.
If you have gotten through all of this and are still interested, then I suspect we're going to get on great! What I will do is take you on a wild wild ride, one that will be exciting and one that will stay with you for a long long time whatever happens. You will laugh, you will cry, and you will live every single story beat and scene that will unfold in front of you. You will come to care for the ragged troupe that you will embark on the adventure of a lifetime with.
Without further ado, here are the ideas that would like to propose for our grand adventure. If any of these tickle your fancy then shoot me a PM, lets chat and take it from there. I hope to speak to you soon :).
I have been writing for just about all of my adult life. I love to craft personal, involving stories with deep and interesting characters. Through some of my toughest moments my writing has been what I have turned to to get me through the bad times, and it has also made me happy in the good times.
I have many, many ideas floating around in my deranged mind, ideas that I would like to share with you, and hopefully I will see some interest for some of these ideas.
For any prospective role player I think it's important to understand what I am, and more importantly, what I am not.
1. I'm all about the story. I love to tell tales of high fantasy, tales of gothic horror and tales of brave heroes striving against unimaginable odds. All of these tales are encapsulated in some form below. These aren't your typical roleplay, these are fully fleshed out stories with a defined starting and end point — however how you reach that endpoint is entirely down to you and where the role play goes.
2) I'm looking for a collaborative storyteller rather than someone who will craft a character to fit a particular niche to match my character. I want a roleplayer who will help me craft my tale and the world as part of that tale. Although I will provide details of the character I intend to play, I am not looking for someone to play a particular role. I am looking for someone to create a character that they want to play and will be a good thematic fit for the game. In turn the story will be built around that character. Give me the character YOU want to play, not the character I want you to play.
3) I like romance subplots as much as the next person, but that is not the focus of the game. If the roleplay moves in that direction and it makes sense in context of the characters and the way they interact with each other then great, let's see where it goes — however it is not a necessity for the game. Essentially I want to tell you a fantastical tale of adventure and derring-do, romance may play a part in that, but it is not the sole focus or purpose of the game. These are traditional tales of fantasy and horror, of good vs. evil. Of heroes facing down an army of the dead or coming face to face with a dragon hell bent on devouring them.
4) Death is a possibility. We don't always have happy endings. Your, or indeed my character may die if that's where the story leads. If that happens you will, of course, continue with an alternative. I may be a twisted storyteller, but I am certainly not a monster.
5) I don't do smut. Sorry if that's a dealbreaker, but it's just not me. I'm not good at it at all, and I'm also quite uncomfortable writing it — just the way I roll I'm afraid.
If you have gotten through all of this and are still interested, then I suspect we're going to get on great! What I will do is take you on a wild wild ride, one that will be exciting and one that will stay with you for a long long time whatever happens. You will laugh, you will cry, and you will live every single story beat and scene that will unfold in front of you. You will come to care for the ragged troupe that you will embark on the adventure of a lifetime with.
Without further ado, here are the ideas that would like to propose for our grand adventure. If any of these tickle your fancy then shoot me a PM, lets chat and take it from there. I hope to speak to you soon :).
He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
Three years ago the world that we knew ended. Everything that was once familiar was destroyed in the blink of an eye. It began with what we came to refer to as "The Plague". People started getting sick, real sick. What we didn't know at the time was that as they lay on their sickbeds, they were rotting from the inside. The plague was virulent. It spread from host to host before they even knew they had it. Before we had chance to react, they died.
But they didn't stay dead.
The victims rose again as cannibalistic, feral creatures. They could not be stopped.
All across the world, civilisation crumbled, and we degenerated into a society where only the strongest and fittest survived.
It is in this fractured world you try to eke out a living, however best you can. Wake. Eat. Sleep. Survive. This is the best you can hope for, here in the heart of decay.
Yet, little do you know that things are about to change.
You are the unwilling recipients of an object of vital importance. Tasked with a dangerous cross-country trek across hundreds of thousands of miles, your destination is a safehold filled with those last remaining members of an organised resistance. In exchange for the item you bring, the item you need, you are promised safety and refuge.....for a time at least. Yet, what other choice do you have?
Soon, you will find that the land harbours greater dangers than that of the rotting dead that have come to infest the world. You will come face to face with werewolves, witches.....vampires even, and soon you will learn that the greatest dangers are not necessarily those that you can see.
Name: Cain Harper
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Role: Skill Monkey, Silver Tongue (Persuasion and Social)
Appearance
Meticulously groomed, with brown hair coming down to the nape of his neck with nary a hair out of place. Brown eyes gaze with an inner gleam. Cain is slight of build, with not an ounce of fat on him. The only blemish on his otherwise perfect features is a scar running just over and under his lips on the right hand side of his mouth. On his left shoulder, Cain has a striking tattoo of a celtic sun covered by a flaming orange and yellow sun
Personality
Quiet, softly spoken and mysterious, Cain is every inch the enigmatic high-flying, high-society millionaire's son thrust into an end of the world scenario that he can barely understand or come to terms with. Cain doesn't speak much, but then he doesn't have to. A look from his smouldering brown eyes can make most members of the fairer sex desire to give away their souls for him if he would so desire it -- and this is something that Cain uses to truly devastating effect.
Manipulative and devious, Cain puts himself first and foremost in all situations. He is spoiled, his parents having given him his every whim and desire. To a certain extent, Cain sees other people as puppets and playthings -- objects to be manipulated for his own amusement and entertainment. As long as he gets what he wants out of a situation then Cain is perfectly content.
On the surface that is.
There are those precious few who have taken the time to truly get to know Cain who can attest to the fact that hidden underneath, this strangely tormented individual is more complex than they could possibly even begin to imagine, and this is a trait that manifests itself in the strangest and most random of ways. An act of genuine kindness to a lost child, helping them to find their way home. The sparing of coin to a starving beggar to allow them to eat -- only Cain truly knows what drives Cain, and to most others he is a puzzle wrapped up in the finest cloth.
Motivations
Cain is an empty shell born into an empty, hollow world. He is trapped in the worst sort of cycle possible. Cain hopes to distance himself from his parents and forge his own identity, yet he does not have the faintest idea how to do so. His life is a pristine, manufactured thing - perfect in every way yet lacking warmth and love, just like himself as a person. Inside he is desperately cold and numb, so he seeks to make himself feel something through any exterior means possible. Cain is a hedonist and he does not know how to break it.
Yet his insatiable appetites do not give him what he so desperately needs. As a result of his continued perceived failures and his inability to feel genuine warmth and emotion, so his self-hatred and loathing grows. And as it does, he is spurred onto acts of greater debauchery, his lusts and passions never truly being fulfilled.
A cycle he does not know how to begin to break free from.
Backstory & Origins
Cain lifted a finger up to touch his lips as he turned his look to the woman asking him about his past. Fixing her dark eyes with his own, the corners of his mouth turned up in a slight, almost ghost-like smile. As precious seconds slipped like grains of sand in a hourglass in this dying world, the young man started to wonder if things would ever....go back to the way they used to be.
Finally, with a small sigh he bowed his head slightly, looking to the ground as he opened his lips, and the slightest of whispers broke the silence, "My, but aren't you the curious one. You know what they say? That curiosity killed the cat...."
His voice trailed off in a small chuckle as he continued, "I have always lived here in Seattle. I was born here into a life of riches and luxury." Looking around him, Cain gestures to his meagre surroundings. It hadn't always been like this, scraping around for survival with ambitions nothing more than to survive another day. "Ironically, I remember as a young boy thinking that there was more to this life than this.....incessant nothingness. Being a millionaire playboy isn't as easy as one might think. Each and every day being given everything that you ever wanted, never having to fight or earn anything. The strangest thing was....."
Standing, Cain walked over to the run-down shack that he was now forced to dwell within. Touching rotted wood, his eyes took on a faraway look. "......I remember from a early age I'd wished for something more. Adventure. Excitement. All things that I lacked aside from manipulating and turning the poor bastard sycophants who came seeking my favour against each other."
Sighing softly, Cain turned back to regard her, "Strange as it is to admit that, in some ways, as much as I wasn't ready.....I wanted this life we now lead. I grew up in my parents manor. I had the best teachings and tutors that money could buy. I learned how to twist and manipulate to get my hearts desire. There were few who could resist me." Laughing again softly, he continued, "There were many who wanted me to be their friend. There were many whom I took as lover. But even so, there were none who wanted to be with me for me. All they were interested in was the colour of my money. Strange to say, but even as much as I was never alone, I was at the same time the loneliest person in the world. Sad to admit isn't it?"
Fixing her with that irresistible gaze of his, Cain went silent, waiting in turn for her story....
Recent History
Cain sat on the wooden floor. He crossed his legs, leaning down and propping his head up in his hands. His eyes went misty, almost as if he was remembering a time far removed. "I'd actually only just came back home when the world went to hell....." His eyes glistened with moisture, held there for a second removed from eternity before he brought his hand up, wiping away the tears.
Colouring slightly, almost as if embarrassed by his moment of weakness, Cain continued his story. "I went to study abroad. Mother and father's money paid for my education and my trip. Aside from that though, I had something to prove to myself. I was me. Cain Harper. Not my mother, nor my father. I was not an extension of their being.....I was my own person and damned if I wouldn't learn to cope on my own, and not on their coattails."
Cain clenched his left hand into a fist, remembering the cruel taunts of his fathers friends as they mocked him for being "daddy's spoiled little boy". "I was......am......a hedonist. I learned to live life as fully as I could. The best clubs. The most exclusive parties. I would have a plastic faced dolly girl on each arm, baseless, without dignity. I had plastic, cardboard cutouts masquerading as people wanting to be my friend. They used me, even as I used them to feed my own desires, so that I would grasp, even if only for a second, the blessed illusion that I was alive, that I did breathe. That my heart did indeed beat beneath my chest and pumped blood through my veins. Even abroad, even in England money talked and my family name and reputation spread far, far beyond what I ever thought it would."
His voice was tinged with unexpected sadness and bitterness, and perhaps it was at that moment that the girl listening to him realised the truth about Cain. That yes, he was a manipulative, selfish man, and he was, as he had admitted, a hedonist. Living a life of debauchery, Cain was a prisoner to his own lifestyle and his family name. That as much as he lived life on the edge, it was, in the end, a hollow, empty thing. Cain wished to escape his own heritage, and in that regard he was a prisoner locked away in a cold, stone cell without the key to a door that would set him free.
Regardless, the usually softly spoken Cain was surprised in a lot of ways at his own verbosity. Perhaps this one, this strange girl had found a strange kinship with the isolated social creature manufactured by a fake society.
Noticing the girl staring at the scar on his lip, Cain brought his finger up, tracing an imaginary line across the pale mark that marred his otherwise perfect features. Another of those ghostlike smiles made it's way across his face as he looked down to the floor.
"This.....this scar? That, my dear, is a story for another day." Cain looked down to the floor for a second before continuing, "I returned home, and found my home......and the world, had gone to ****."
Greeting the Apocalypse
Cain lights up a cigarette. It was strange that in this messed up world that had deteriorated as much as this one that the smallest things that were once taken for granted became a blessed relief. As he took a puff, blowing a small ring of smoke into the air, only the slightest tremble in his arms betrayed the depths of Cain's horror as he was forced to relive that terrible day.
"I woke." There was a tremor in Cain's voice as he closed his eyes, taking another drag on the cigarette. "I woke to screams and blood."
Closing his eyes, Cain pictured the scene almost as if it were one unfolding in front of him right now. "I hadn't even been back any more than a couple of days before the world changed....." Standing, Cain walked over to the girl. He drew her in, holding her close, almost as if she was his only link.....his anchor to reality, to stop the horror of the world around them destroying him.
"The screams stopped. When I went out, I found them all......I've -- I've never seen anything like it. They were all.....twisted.....contorted." Holding onto her, he tightened his grasp around her, clenching the fabric of her jacket tightly in his fist. "There was blood everywhere. They.....they had been tearing at themselves......"
As the images flashed in front of his eyes, Cain's voice broke, and he could not bring himself to say what he had seen with his own eyes. They had torn great furrows into their own flesh......tore their own eyes out in unspeakable agony.....
".....Mother, Father.....Miranda. I was the only one alive." Choking back a sob, Cain continued, "I.....I ran. I didn't know what else to do. I ran from the house. And as the world died around me, I just kept running...... And I wondered.........why?"
Why had I survived when everyone else had died?
Strengths
1) Cain is a jack of all trades -- master of none. Perhaps the product of a misspent youth, however there are few situations that he does not have some passing knowledge of. Picking locks? Check. Hotwiring? Done it. He is a useful auxiliary person to have around, just dont ask him to fight.
2) Master of the silver tongue. Cain certainly knows how to use his charm to devastating effect. With that silver tongue of his, there are few situations that he cannot twist to his advantage or talk his way out of. It is what has kept him alive so far.
3) Deceptively tough. Despite being slight of frame, Cain is deceptively tough. He can, and has, taken a beating in his life both mentally and physically. For one such as him to survive in this tough world, he has to be. No matter how many times you keep beating him down, he comes back -- again and again and again. That mental fortitude is invaluable in the apocalyptic wasteland he lives in.
Weaknesses
1) Haunted. Cain is haunted by the ghost of someone he cares deeply for, in a spiritual and emotional sense. A girl, Katy, whom he loved very deeply. The circumstances of her death is something he will never speak of, yet it is something that haunts his every waking moment, and something that he blames himself for. Until he puts that particular ghost to rest, he will never be free of his demons.
2) Addictions. Cain suffers from withdrawals. Needing to take things to block out the horrible nightmarish visions of his parents and families death, and over time he became more and more dependent on them to get by.
3) Self-Loathing. Cain's self-loathing is complex, and it runs very, very deep inside of him. It was what caused him initially to descend into the life of debauchery and excess that he lived prior to the rise of the dead. Seeking an exit from the hopeless, cold world that he lived in, what he found was the reality of the situation he became trapped in was far, far worse than the one he left behind. Yet, he does not know how to escape from it.....
Powers and Abilities
1) Charm and Persuasion. Cain can be *very* persuasive when he wants to be. It can be difficult to resist his charm, but those who can see past his facade see him for the manipulative liar that he really is.
2) Pick Locks. Cain can open locked doors using thin slivers of metal. Learning the ability during his disaffected youth, it is something that can get himself and his companions out of tight spots.
3) Heightened Endurance. Cain is tough. Surprisingly tough. It takes a lot to beat him down, and even more to keep him down. He can keep going when most would give up.
Three years ago the world that we knew ended. Everything that was once familiar was destroyed in the blink of an eye. It began with what we came to refer to as "The Plague". People started getting sick, real sick. What we didn't know at the time was that as they lay on their sickbeds, they were rotting from the inside. The plague was virulent. It spread from host to host before they even knew they had it. Before we had chance to react, they died.
But they didn't stay dead.
The victims rose again as cannibalistic, feral creatures. They could not be stopped.
All across the world, civilisation crumbled, and we degenerated into a society where only the strongest and fittest survived.
It is in this fractured world you try to eke out a living, however best you can. Wake. Eat. Sleep. Survive. This is the best you can hope for, here in the heart of decay.
Yet, little do you know that things are about to change.
You are the unwilling recipients of an object of vital importance. Tasked with a dangerous cross-country trek across hundreds of thousands of miles, your destination is a safehold filled with those last remaining members of an organised resistance. In exchange for the item you bring, the item you need, you are promised safety and refuge.....for a time at least. Yet, what other choice do you have?
Soon, you will find that the land harbours greater dangers than that of the rotting dead that have come to infest the world. You will come face to face with werewolves, witches.....vampires even, and soon you will learn that the greatest dangers are not necessarily those that you can see.
Name: Cain Harper
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Role: Skill Monkey, Silver Tongue (Persuasion and Social)
Appearance
Meticulously groomed, with brown hair coming down to the nape of his neck with nary a hair out of place. Brown eyes gaze with an inner gleam. Cain is slight of build, with not an ounce of fat on him. The only blemish on his otherwise perfect features is a scar running just over and under his lips on the right hand side of his mouth. On his left shoulder, Cain has a striking tattoo of a celtic sun covered by a flaming orange and yellow sun
Personality
Quiet, softly spoken and mysterious, Cain is every inch the enigmatic high-flying, high-society millionaire's son thrust into an end of the world scenario that he can barely understand or come to terms with. Cain doesn't speak much, but then he doesn't have to. A look from his smouldering brown eyes can make most members of the fairer sex desire to give away their souls for him if he would so desire it -- and this is something that Cain uses to truly devastating effect.
Manipulative and devious, Cain puts himself first and foremost in all situations. He is spoiled, his parents having given him his every whim and desire. To a certain extent, Cain sees other people as puppets and playthings -- objects to be manipulated for his own amusement and entertainment. As long as he gets what he wants out of a situation then Cain is perfectly content.
On the surface that is.
There are those precious few who have taken the time to truly get to know Cain who can attest to the fact that hidden underneath, this strangely tormented individual is more complex than they could possibly even begin to imagine, and this is a trait that manifests itself in the strangest and most random of ways. An act of genuine kindness to a lost child, helping them to find their way home. The sparing of coin to a starving beggar to allow them to eat -- only Cain truly knows what drives Cain, and to most others he is a puzzle wrapped up in the finest cloth.
Motivations
Cain is an empty shell born into an empty, hollow world. He is trapped in the worst sort of cycle possible. Cain hopes to distance himself from his parents and forge his own identity, yet he does not have the faintest idea how to do so. His life is a pristine, manufactured thing - perfect in every way yet lacking warmth and love, just like himself as a person. Inside he is desperately cold and numb, so he seeks to make himself feel something through any exterior means possible. Cain is a hedonist and he does not know how to break it.
Yet his insatiable appetites do not give him what he so desperately needs. As a result of his continued perceived failures and his inability to feel genuine warmth and emotion, so his self-hatred and loathing grows. And as it does, he is spurred onto acts of greater debauchery, his lusts and passions never truly being fulfilled.
A cycle he does not know how to begin to break free from.
Backstory & Origins
Cain lifted a finger up to touch his lips as he turned his look to the woman asking him about his past. Fixing her dark eyes with his own, the corners of his mouth turned up in a slight, almost ghost-like smile. As precious seconds slipped like grains of sand in a hourglass in this dying world, the young man started to wonder if things would ever....go back to the way they used to be.
Finally, with a small sigh he bowed his head slightly, looking to the ground as he opened his lips, and the slightest of whispers broke the silence, "My, but aren't you the curious one. You know what they say? That curiosity killed the cat...."
His voice trailed off in a small chuckle as he continued, "I have always lived here in Seattle. I was born here into a life of riches and luxury." Looking around him, Cain gestures to his meagre surroundings. It hadn't always been like this, scraping around for survival with ambitions nothing more than to survive another day. "Ironically, I remember as a young boy thinking that there was more to this life than this.....incessant nothingness. Being a millionaire playboy isn't as easy as one might think. Each and every day being given everything that you ever wanted, never having to fight or earn anything. The strangest thing was....."
Standing, Cain walked over to the run-down shack that he was now forced to dwell within. Touching rotted wood, his eyes took on a faraway look. "......I remember from a early age I'd wished for something more. Adventure. Excitement. All things that I lacked aside from manipulating and turning the poor bastard sycophants who came seeking my favour against each other."
Sighing softly, Cain turned back to regard her, "Strange as it is to admit that, in some ways, as much as I wasn't ready.....I wanted this life we now lead. I grew up in my parents manor. I had the best teachings and tutors that money could buy. I learned how to twist and manipulate to get my hearts desire. There were few who could resist me." Laughing again softly, he continued, "There were many who wanted me to be their friend. There were many whom I took as lover. But even so, there were none who wanted to be with me for me. All they were interested in was the colour of my money. Strange to say, but even as much as I was never alone, I was at the same time the loneliest person in the world. Sad to admit isn't it?"
Fixing her with that irresistible gaze of his, Cain went silent, waiting in turn for her story....
Recent History
Cain sat on the wooden floor. He crossed his legs, leaning down and propping his head up in his hands. His eyes went misty, almost as if he was remembering a time far removed. "I'd actually only just came back home when the world went to hell....." His eyes glistened with moisture, held there for a second removed from eternity before he brought his hand up, wiping away the tears.
Colouring slightly, almost as if embarrassed by his moment of weakness, Cain continued his story. "I went to study abroad. Mother and father's money paid for my education and my trip. Aside from that though, I had something to prove to myself. I was me. Cain Harper. Not my mother, nor my father. I was not an extension of their being.....I was my own person and damned if I wouldn't learn to cope on my own, and not on their coattails."
Cain clenched his left hand into a fist, remembering the cruel taunts of his fathers friends as they mocked him for being "daddy's spoiled little boy". "I was......am......a hedonist. I learned to live life as fully as I could. The best clubs. The most exclusive parties. I would have a plastic faced dolly girl on each arm, baseless, without dignity. I had plastic, cardboard cutouts masquerading as people wanting to be my friend. They used me, even as I used them to feed my own desires, so that I would grasp, even if only for a second, the blessed illusion that I was alive, that I did breathe. That my heart did indeed beat beneath my chest and pumped blood through my veins. Even abroad, even in England money talked and my family name and reputation spread far, far beyond what I ever thought it would."
His voice was tinged with unexpected sadness and bitterness, and perhaps it was at that moment that the girl listening to him realised the truth about Cain. That yes, he was a manipulative, selfish man, and he was, as he had admitted, a hedonist. Living a life of debauchery, Cain was a prisoner to his own lifestyle and his family name. That as much as he lived life on the edge, it was, in the end, a hollow, empty thing. Cain wished to escape his own heritage, and in that regard he was a prisoner locked away in a cold, stone cell without the key to a door that would set him free.
Regardless, the usually softly spoken Cain was surprised in a lot of ways at his own verbosity. Perhaps this one, this strange girl had found a strange kinship with the isolated social creature manufactured by a fake society.
Noticing the girl staring at the scar on his lip, Cain brought his finger up, tracing an imaginary line across the pale mark that marred his otherwise perfect features. Another of those ghostlike smiles made it's way across his face as he looked down to the floor.
"This.....this scar? That, my dear, is a story for another day." Cain looked down to the floor for a second before continuing, "I returned home, and found my home......and the world, had gone to ****."
Greeting the Apocalypse
Cain lights up a cigarette. It was strange that in this messed up world that had deteriorated as much as this one that the smallest things that were once taken for granted became a blessed relief. As he took a puff, blowing a small ring of smoke into the air, only the slightest tremble in his arms betrayed the depths of Cain's horror as he was forced to relive that terrible day.
"I woke." There was a tremor in Cain's voice as he closed his eyes, taking another drag on the cigarette. "I woke to screams and blood."
Closing his eyes, Cain pictured the scene almost as if it were one unfolding in front of him right now. "I hadn't even been back any more than a couple of days before the world changed....." Standing, Cain walked over to the girl. He drew her in, holding her close, almost as if she was his only link.....his anchor to reality, to stop the horror of the world around them destroying him.
"The screams stopped. When I went out, I found them all......I've -- I've never seen anything like it. They were all.....twisted.....contorted." Holding onto her, he tightened his grasp around her, clenching the fabric of her jacket tightly in his fist. "There was blood everywhere. They.....they had been tearing at themselves......"
As the images flashed in front of his eyes, Cain's voice broke, and he could not bring himself to say what he had seen with his own eyes. They had torn great furrows into their own flesh......tore their own eyes out in unspeakable agony.....
".....Mother, Father.....Miranda. I was the only one alive." Choking back a sob, Cain continued, "I.....I ran. I didn't know what else to do. I ran from the house. And as the world died around me, I just kept running...... And I wondered.........why?"
Why had I survived when everyone else had died?
Strengths
1) Cain is a jack of all trades -- master of none. Perhaps the product of a misspent youth, however there are few situations that he does not have some passing knowledge of. Picking locks? Check. Hotwiring? Done it. He is a useful auxiliary person to have around, just dont ask him to fight.
2) Master of the silver tongue. Cain certainly knows how to use his charm to devastating effect. With that silver tongue of his, there are few situations that he cannot twist to his advantage or talk his way out of. It is what has kept him alive so far.
3) Deceptively tough. Despite being slight of frame, Cain is deceptively tough. He can, and has, taken a beating in his life both mentally and physically. For one such as him to survive in this tough world, he has to be. No matter how many times you keep beating him down, he comes back -- again and again and again. That mental fortitude is invaluable in the apocalyptic wasteland he lives in.
Weaknesses
1) Haunted. Cain is haunted by the ghost of someone he cares deeply for, in a spiritual and emotional sense. A girl, Katy, whom he loved very deeply. The circumstances of her death is something he will never speak of, yet it is something that haunts his every waking moment, and something that he blames himself for. Until he puts that particular ghost to rest, he will never be free of his demons.
2) Addictions. Cain suffers from withdrawals. Needing to take things to block out the horrible nightmarish visions of his parents and families death, and over time he became more and more dependent on them to get by.
3) Self-Loathing. Cain's self-loathing is complex, and it runs very, very deep inside of him. It was what caused him initially to descend into the life of debauchery and excess that he lived prior to the rise of the dead. Seeking an exit from the hopeless, cold world that he lived in, what he found was the reality of the situation he became trapped in was far, far worse than the one he left behind. Yet, he does not know how to escape from it.....
Powers and Abilities
1) Charm and Persuasion. Cain can be *very* persuasive when he wants to be. It can be difficult to resist his charm, but those who can see past his facade see him for the manipulative liar that he really is.
2) Pick Locks. Cain can open locked doors using thin slivers of metal. Learning the ability during his disaffected youth, it is something that can get himself and his companions out of tight spots.
3) Heightened Endurance. Cain is tough. Surprisingly tough. It takes a lot to beat him down, and even more to keep him down. He can keep going when most would give up.
Behind the walls of an impenetrable mountain range, deep within the Unapproachable East, there lies a kingdom of unimaginable beauty. A kingdom where the walls are set with beautiful rubies, and where the streets are lined with gold and inlaid with glittering gems. There, inside this lost kingdom, the streams run with silver, and the people that live within.....they live lives of idyllic tranquility.
It was not always so.
Once, many hundreds of years ago, there dwelt an evil warlord by the name of Tan Chin. The ruler of a fell realm of demonic oni, the warlord travelled down the Great Silk Road, deep into the mountains of this mysterious realm, and he spied the hidden kingdom of unearthly beauty. Tan Chin, desirous of this kingdom, vowed to conquer it and bring its subjects under his rule. Returning to his realm, he raised an army of demons and hurled them against the kingdom in his obsession.
This hidden kingdom, this Shangri-La of humankind was not defenceless though. Inside its walls, the fiercest monks and martial artists gathered, and with the courage and blessing of the Padhrasattava, stood against the approaching demon army. Standing at their head was the blessed of the gods themselves, Tsenya Garbo, their leader. Tsenya, realising that hundreds of thousands of lives would be lost in the battle, instead challenged the warlord Tan Chin to single combat. If Tan Chin won, he would have Tsenya's realm for himself. If he lost, he would have to take his army and leave, never to return for five hundred years. In his pride, the warlord accepted the terms, so convinced was he that he would win the duel.
The two of them battled with both sword and spell for three days and three nights in a war that seemed that it would never end, so perfectly matched were the two. Yet at the end of their bloody conflict, Tsenya Garbo finally emerged victorious.
Defeated and bloodied, the warlord nevertheless honoured the terms of their battle -- the gods themselves demanded no less. Taking his army, Tan Chin retreated to the empire of Solon, and there he consolidated the grip on his throne. As he did so, he kept his jealous eyes on the beautiful realm he so desired for his own, even as he once more built up his power. And as years rolled into decades rolled into centuries, the warlord remained patient, for the time would come when the terms of their conflict would pass, and the time would come to strike once more.
And as the years passed, Tsenya Garbo grew old and complacent. So certain in his belief that he was protected and beloved by the gods, he became nothing more than a shadow of the man that he once was. And as the armies of Solon gathered their strength once more, and the warlord began to dream his dreams of conquest, his victory seemed all but inevitable......
Five hundred years have passed since that fateful battle, and whilst Tsenya Garbo has forgotten that which came before, the warlord once again turns his gaze eastwards.....
***
Soon, the Unapproachable East will erupt into the bloodiest and deadliest conflict that the world has ever seen. And into the middle of this conquest, a group of adventurers will stumble into the centre of this deadly situation. Lost and alone, they are tasked with averting a war between two kingdoms. Soon however, this mission will become one of deadly import for them.
And thus begins an epic quest set in a mystical and beautiful part of the world that has only been seen by the luckiest few. This will be a tale of life, of love and heroism against almost unimaginable odds. This is a tale of beautiful princesses, a tale of fearsome dragons, of demons and the living dead, and of knights in shining armour. It is a tale that will live on, both in this world and the world beyond. It is a tale that you will carry in the deepest parts of your heart and soul for forevermore.
Will our heroes become the destined champions that fate would decree them to be, or will they be lost in the shadow that sweeps over the land?
Come forward my champions -- come be the protectors of the weak, and the heroes you were always destined to be. This is an epic quest the likes of which the world has never seen before....and will never see again
Name: Kian Le
Race: Human
Class/Occupation: None (Untrained)
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Appearance:
Kian Le is every bit the youthful peasant that he appears to be. With youthful features that actually paint him as younger than he actually is, yet his appearance belies the fact that Kian is more than he would appear to be. He has seen much in his eighteen winters, yet it is his spirit and his heart that are evident in the way that he carries himself.
Simply put, he refuses to let the world ground him down irrespective of what happens to him.
Kian Le's innocent eyes sparkle with an inner light and life. His long black hair falls past his shoulders, seemingly only accentuating his youthful appearance yet further. His smile is infectious. When he does smile, it is with the effect to make everyone else want to smile with him.
He wears a blue silk brocade across a white, silk shirt belted at the waist. His dark hair falls long when it is let free, and it often seems to have a life of its own, however most of the time Kian has it tied back into a ponytail.
Personality:
The thing about Kian Le is that there is no dissembling with him. There is nothing hidden and he does not conceal anything from anyone. Kian Le wears his heart on his sleeve, and the youngster, despite his humble origins, holds within him dreams of becoming a martial artist or swordsman.
Kian Le is both naïve and innocent. He honestly believes that there is good in anyone and refuses to believe that others are not like him, at least until he is proven otherwise, as he often is. Yet, despite the number of times he is let down, he bounces back regardless, refusing to allow himself to be affected by a world that, to be perfectly honest, doesn't deserve him.
However, there is an edge to Kian that most do not and cannot see. Kian pushes things perhaps further than he should. He is daring, recklessly so..... If he sees a rich merchant cross the marketplace, then he will make an attempt to steal the man's purse despite the risks associated in doing so -- because even a lovable scamp like him needs to eat, right?
Kian is surprisingly resourceful, evidenced by the fact that he has lived his life on the dangerous streets of Shou Lung and has survived thus far. In fact, it is fair to say that Kian is someone with many hidden depths.....
Backstory:
Kian's origins are a mystery, even to himself. He does not know who his parents are....indeed he has believed them dead for so long now that it is inconceivable to him to think otherwise. For his entire life he has lived on the streets of Shou Lung, and he has survived. The deceptively resourceful youngster has lived amongst the many gangs that roam the streets, and he has carved out a niche of his own despite the odds seemingly stacked against him.
Yet his existence has amounted to little more than scrounging whatever he can to ensure that he lives another day.
However, things are about to change for the plucky orphan, in ways that he could not even begin to comprehend. It began one day when he saw an armed contingent the likes he had never seen before in the streets. The guardsmen, dressed in armour with an unfamiliar insignia, seemed to be carrying with them a small, golden container. What lay within it Kian did not know, but surely, or so his mind told him, what was inside must have been valuable beyond all reckoning. If he could somehow liberate it from the guardsmen, then his fortune was assured.
But such an undertaking was dangerous -- suicidal even. There would be no hope for him if he managed to get himself caught.
However, Kian Le, humble orphan, would not be dissuaded from his course of action. Stealing along the shadows, the youngster boldly stole right into the midst of the guardsmen, stealing the golden container from them and running as fast as he could into the busy marketplace..... He knew of a merchant caravan leaving the city that evening, and if he could steal himself aboard it then his fortune would be made....
Name: Tsenya Bhrokiti
Race: Human
Class/Occupation: Sorceress
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Appearance:
This dark haired beauty has an unearthly look about her. As well she should, she is the daughter of the Dalai Lama himself. Rumours and whispers persist that she is a powerful sorceress in her own right, and certainly the Princess manifests an aura that suggests she expects to be obeyed.
Personality:
Strong willed and fierce, this young woman is not one to be easily cowed by the martial might of her peers and the horsemen of the steppes. Bhrokiti is considered to be impetuous, willful and self-centered.
Princess Tsenya Bhrokiti has little concern for the spiritual matters that are the focus of so much of Ra-Khati's social life. Deep down though, she realises that she cannot ever hope to lead a people with whom she has so little in common.
The cause of Princess Bhrokiti's eccentricity is not hard to understand. Her mother died in childbirth, leaving her in the care of the Dalai Lama's staff. From infancy, her father's advisors took turns delighting her with gifts, games and sleight-of-hand wizardry.
Background:
Raised within the confines of the Hidden Kingdom, Bhrokiti has lived a life of peace and luxury. Doted on by her father, the spoiled girl has wanted for nothing in her life. However, when the Emperor's forces come to invade, she learns she is about to make the ultimate sacrifice to keep her kingdom safe.
Little does she realise though that in her hands she holds a key that will decide the fate of the lands of Ra-Khati and that she is to play a central role in the events to unfold. For fate and destiny are about to bring her into contact with a group of adventurers lost on the steppes, and together they will decide the future of the Hidden Kingdom......
It was not always so.
Once, many hundreds of years ago, there dwelt an evil warlord by the name of Tan Chin. The ruler of a fell realm of demonic oni, the warlord travelled down the Great Silk Road, deep into the mountains of this mysterious realm, and he spied the hidden kingdom of unearthly beauty. Tan Chin, desirous of this kingdom, vowed to conquer it and bring its subjects under his rule. Returning to his realm, he raised an army of demons and hurled them against the kingdom in his obsession.
This hidden kingdom, this Shangri-La of humankind was not defenceless though. Inside its walls, the fiercest monks and martial artists gathered, and with the courage and blessing of the Padhrasattava, stood against the approaching demon army. Standing at their head was the blessed of the gods themselves, Tsenya Garbo, their leader. Tsenya, realising that hundreds of thousands of lives would be lost in the battle, instead challenged the warlord Tan Chin to single combat. If Tan Chin won, he would have Tsenya's realm for himself. If he lost, he would have to take his army and leave, never to return for five hundred years. In his pride, the warlord accepted the terms, so convinced was he that he would win the duel.
The two of them battled with both sword and spell for three days and three nights in a war that seemed that it would never end, so perfectly matched were the two. Yet at the end of their bloody conflict, Tsenya Garbo finally emerged victorious.
Defeated and bloodied, the warlord nevertheless honoured the terms of their battle -- the gods themselves demanded no less. Taking his army, Tan Chin retreated to the empire of Solon, and there he consolidated the grip on his throne. As he did so, he kept his jealous eyes on the beautiful realm he so desired for his own, even as he once more built up his power. And as years rolled into decades rolled into centuries, the warlord remained patient, for the time would come when the terms of their conflict would pass, and the time would come to strike once more.
And as the years passed, Tsenya Garbo grew old and complacent. So certain in his belief that he was protected and beloved by the gods, he became nothing more than a shadow of the man that he once was. And as the armies of Solon gathered their strength once more, and the warlord began to dream his dreams of conquest, his victory seemed all but inevitable......
Five hundred years have passed since that fateful battle, and whilst Tsenya Garbo has forgotten that which came before, the warlord once again turns his gaze eastwards.....
***
Soon, the Unapproachable East will erupt into the bloodiest and deadliest conflict that the world has ever seen. And into the middle of this conquest, a group of adventurers will stumble into the centre of this deadly situation. Lost and alone, they are tasked with averting a war between two kingdoms. Soon however, this mission will become one of deadly import for them.
And thus begins an epic quest set in a mystical and beautiful part of the world that has only been seen by the luckiest few. This will be a tale of life, of love and heroism against almost unimaginable odds. This is a tale of beautiful princesses, a tale of fearsome dragons, of demons and the living dead, and of knights in shining armour. It is a tale that will live on, both in this world and the world beyond. It is a tale that you will carry in the deepest parts of your heart and soul for forevermore.
Will our heroes become the destined champions that fate would decree them to be, or will they be lost in the shadow that sweeps over the land?
Come forward my champions -- come be the protectors of the weak, and the heroes you were always destined to be. This is an epic quest the likes of which the world has never seen before....and will never see again
Name: Kian Le
Race: Human
Class/Occupation: None (Untrained)
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Appearance:
Kian Le is every bit the youthful peasant that he appears to be. With youthful features that actually paint him as younger than he actually is, yet his appearance belies the fact that Kian is more than he would appear to be. He has seen much in his eighteen winters, yet it is his spirit and his heart that are evident in the way that he carries himself.
Simply put, he refuses to let the world ground him down irrespective of what happens to him.
Kian Le's innocent eyes sparkle with an inner light and life. His long black hair falls past his shoulders, seemingly only accentuating his youthful appearance yet further. His smile is infectious. When he does smile, it is with the effect to make everyone else want to smile with him.
He wears a blue silk brocade across a white, silk shirt belted at the waist. His dark hair falls long when it is let free, and it often seems to have a life of its own, however most of the time Kian has it tied back into a ponytail.
Personality:
The thing about Kian Le is that there is no dissembling with him. There is nothing hidden and he does not conceal anything from anyone. Kian Le wears his heart on his sleeve, and the youngster, despite his humble origins, holds within him dreams of becoming a martial artist or swordsman.
Kian Le is both naïve and innocent. He honestly believes that there is good in anyone and refuses to believe that others are not like him, at least until he is proven otherwise, as he often is. Yet, despite the number of times he is let down, he bounces back regardless, refusing to allow himself to be affected by a world that, to be perfectly honest, doesn't deserve him.
However, there is an edge to Kian that most do not and cannot see. Kian pushes things perhaps further than he should. He is daring, recklessly so..... If he sees a rich merchant cross the marketplace, then he will make an attempt to steal the man's purse despite the risks associated in doing so -- because even a lovable scamp like him needs to eat, right?
Kian is surprisingly resourceful, evidenced by the fact that he has lived his life on the dangerous streets of Shou Lung and has survived thus far. In fact, it is fair to say that Kian is someone with many hidden depths.....
Backstory:
Kian's origins are a mystery, even to himself. He does not know who his parents are....indeed he has believed them dead for so long now that it is inconceivable to him to think otherwise. For his entire life he has lived on the streets of Shou Lung, and he has survived. The deceptively resourceful youngster has lived amongst the many gangs that roam the streets, and he has carved out a niche of his own despite the odds seemingly stacked against him.
Yet his existence has amounted to little more than scrounging whatever he can to ensure that he lives another day.
However, things are about to change for the plucky orphan, in ways that he could not even begin to comprehend. It began one day when he saw an armed contingent the likes he had never seen before in the streets. The guardsmen, dressed in armour with an unfamiliar insignia, seemed to be carrying with them a small, golden container. What lay within it Kian did not know, but surely, or so his mind told him, what was inside must have been valuable beyond all reckoning. If he could somehow liberate it from the guardsmen, then his fortune was assured.
But such an undertaking was dangerous -- suicidal even. There would be no hope for him if he managed to get himself caught.
However, Kian Le, humble orphan, would not be dissuaded from his course of action. Stealing along the shadows, the youngster boldly stole right into the midst of the guardsmen, stealing the golden container from them and running as fast as he could into the busy marketplace..... He knew of a merchant caravan leaving the city that evening, and if he could steal himself aboard it then his fortune would be made....
Name: Tsenya Bhrokiti
Race: Human
Class/Occupation: Sorceress
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Appearance:
This dark haired beauty has an unearthly look about her. As well she should, she is the daughter of the Dalai Lama himself. Rumours and whispers persist that she is a powerful sorceress in her own right, and certainly the Princess manifests an aura that suggests she expects to be obeyed.
Personality:
Strong willed and fierce, this young woman is not one to be easily cowed by the martial might of her peers and the horsemen of the steppes. Bhrokiti is considered to be impetuous, willful and self-centered.
Princess Tsenya Bhrokiti has little concern for the spiritual matters that are the focus of so much of Ra-Khati's social life. Deep down though, she realises that she cannot ever hope to lead a people with whom she has so little in common.
The cause of Princess Bhrokiti's eccentricity is not hard to understand. Her mother died in childbirth, leaving her in the care of the Dalai Lama's staff. From infancy, her father's advisors took turns delighting her with gifts, games and sleight-of-hand wizardry.
Background:
Raised within the confines of the Hidden Kingdom, Bhrokiti has lived a life of peace and luxury. Doted on by her father, the spoiled girl has wanted for nothing in her life. However, when the Emperor's forces come to invade, she learns she is about to make the ultimate sacrifice to keep her kingdom safe.
Little does she realise though that in her hands she holds a key that will decide the fate of the lands of Ra-Khati and that she is to play a central role in the events to unfold. For fate and destiny are about to bring her into contact with a group of adventurers lost on the steppes, and together they will decide the future of the Hidden Kingdom......
My name is Captain Garvyn. I am the Captain of this, the good ship Endurance. Me and my crew, we have been sailing these seas for what seems to be an eternity now. Our food and water stocks are dwindling, and morale is slowly but surely ebbing away. Soon I fear we will have outright mutiny. I have lost track of time and tide, ever since that fateful, foggy night when the stars changed. We lost our course, and ever since we have sailed in a straight line. We sail in the hope of reaching shore, or seeing some sort of landmark that will allow us to get our bearings, yet with each day that passes there is nothing. There is nothing but the endless ocean and the gray-tinged sky. I am truly beginning to believe that wherever this cursed ocean is, there is not, and never will be, an end to it.
And if that is not bad enough, I'm getting reports off the crew as to strange happenings occurring at night. They come to me with tales of ghostly wailing, or shouts of anger coming from the foredeck, yet when they go to investigate, there is nothing there. Worse than that, there have been sightings of a ghostly child drifting around below decks.
But wait, something comes on the horizon
A shadowy form. Perhaps finally, this is an end to this cursed never-ending voyage.
~~
Through the dense mist, a dark shape materialises and looms near. It is another sailing vessel, yet this one bears signs of a long and deadly life. The hull displays huge, gaping holes, yet water passes through the gaps without filling the breached hold. The rigging and sails hang in limp, tangled shreds, yet the ship moves forwards quickly despite the lack of wind. The decks and hull show signs of rot, and if the ship was ever painted there is no sign of it now -- the colour having long ago peeled and flaked away. The masts creak and sway, looking fragile and rotted.
The vessel's crew then appear on deck, first ten, then sixteen, then two dozen sailors. All pretensions of there being aid for the stricken ship Endurance were cast aside in seconds -- an illusion dispelled behind the cold, hard realisation that death had come for them. The crew of this ship -- they were not alive. Rotten, putrid flesh fell from walking corpses, fetid skin staining the rotten timbers of this ghostly decaying ship that even now approached. All were dressed in rags that were as rotten and torn as the mangled ship that came out of the shadows of the eternally grey horizon. Where fingernails once were, long claws jutted from grimy digits. Sharp fangs filled their rotting mouths. Most of them clutched rusty sabres, cutlasses, scimitars and long swords. As the ship neared, her name could be made out burned into the bow.
The Eternal Torture.
~~
This dark and sordid tale began with a badly written notice:
Handsum Payment for ezee work!!
If ye r willing sea-goers with strong stommicks seeking brieef adventur, reeport to tha good ship Endurance berthed at the lokal doks. I reekwire intrepid soles to fill out a crew for a herried deelivere voyage. Ye may reetern to this port or reemane at tha destinashun. Appeer before sundown - we sail at dawn! No land lubbers need apply!
When you signed onto the Endurance, you thought it would be an easy delivery job and a chance to make some easy money. What you found was anything but - a haunted vessel destined for an island of the dead.....
Dare you step aboard the Ship of Horrors?
Name: Brummett
Profession / Archetype: First Mate of the Endurance
Age: 37
Skills: Armed Combat, Ranged Combat, Agility
Strengths:
1) Brummet is the Endurance. Brummett's knowledge of the Endurance is second to none. He commands the respect of the crew of the ship, perhaps moreso than the Captain himself. He knows how to get the best out of the crew that work under him, and he certainly has their backing under most situations. If there is a crisis on board the ship, Brummett will usually know how to handle it.
2) The eternal optimist. Brummett's belief in himself and his crew is unshakeable. Irrespective of the situation that they find themselves in, he believes that they will always work through it. That optimism also rubs off on the crew and helps keep their morale up.
3) Aftereffects of addiction. Brummett's past as a recovering addict means that he has a stronger tolerance to poisonous and intoxicating substances that most others would have.
Weaknesses:
1) There is much that is hidden. Brummett's act of eternal optimism is precisely that -- an act. He finds himself in truth dealing with stresses and dangerous situations badly in secret, often struggling to restrain himself from turning to his natural cravings to satisfy his hedonistic needs.
2) I am a recovering addict. Brummett in years gone by was addicted to intoxicating substances. He finds himself struggling to suppress his inhibitions at the best of times, and can be both irritable and moody when struggling against his desires.
3) I failed my previous crew. Although he will never speak of it, Brummett hides a dark secret -- he was responsible for the death of, and was the only survivor of his previous crew. As a result, he will often push himself further and harder on the Endurance as if to overcompensate for his previous failures. One day he will likely push himself too far.
Appearance:
Brummett is a man in his late 30's. His blond hair is beginning to show some small streaks of grey, and it is bleached by the long hours that he has spent working under the gaze of the blazing sun. His features are slightly tanned and deep green eyes sparkle almost as if he is keeping some mysterious secret to himself. One thing that Brummett certainly is agile. He quite often sprints across the deck of the Endurance with the grace of a sprightly dancer.
Usually wearing a white shirt with brown breeches, his aura is one that radiates across to the rest of the crew of the Endurance. Indeed, it often seems that when Brummett is about that they work that little bit harder.
With a smile and a wink, Brummett is nothing if not ruggedly handsome, with a charming, charismatic aura that pervades the smoothness and charm that the man's aura pervades. He takes great pains to make his appearance flawless. From his smoothly combed golden hair, to his meticulously trimmed goatee, Brummett takes a lot of pride and time over his appearance.
Indeed, his appearance is all part of the package and appearance that he wishes peopleto see. Everything has its place, and everything has its purpose, and for him, he would not have it any other way.
His glowing emerald eyes are full of light and promise. When one looks into them, they see the promise of adventure and a life they could not possibly imagine. They see a doorway leading into another world, a world that while, perhaps wild and dangerous, is one of excitement and infinite possibilities. His smile steals both hearts and souls, and many a fawning lady would die just to see it for only a few seconds.
Personality:
There are two sides to Brummett, the side that he wishes you to see, and the truth. The image of Brummett that is portrayed to the crew is that of the perpetually cheerful man — the leader that in the absence of the ships captain is in control of the ship.
This version of Brummett is an optimist, he has a never say die attitude, he is there for the other crew members to lean on, and he will find a way to deal with any situation as it arises. He is the sort of person that inspires the crew of the Endurance and commands respect in such a way that even Captain Garvyn cannot.
It is also an illusion.
The real Brummett is a man that only ever appears when he is on his own. It is a man who is tormented by inner demons and nightmares that only he knows of. It is a man that is constantly walking on the edge, gazing down into the abyss as he struggles to resist the temptations that constantly gnaw away at his mind and sanity.
Brummett is a double edged sword. He feels trapped by his own failures and desires to make up for the terrible mistakes he has wrought in the past. He simply has to maintain that image of perfection for the rest of the crew, because the consequences of failure are too severe to even imagine. Yet, even as he struggles to maintain this illusion of control, he judges himself severely for any failure, both real and perceived.
And as he does, he slowly falls ever further into a downward spiral that he can barely keep at arms length.
It is just a matter of time now, no?
Background:
Not much is known of Brummett's early days, and if the question were to come up, then the First Mate would likely shrug it off with evasive words and a wink. The only past that people know of is that of his recent years on the Endurance. Yet there are moments that Brummett has let his guard down and divulged some aspects of his past.
Though much of his earlier days remain shrouded in mystery, the below has been gleaned from things that Brummett has let slip in conversations:
1) His early childhood was an unhappy one. Though the specifics of it are unknown, it is believed that Brummett sought a life on the seas to escape the life he lived on-shore.
2) The Endurance is not his first ship. Brummett has let slip that the crew he worked for previously are all dead now, however no one has been brave or foolhardy enough to press for more details than that.
3) It is believed that Brummett has, in his years before, had terrible problems with both drink and gambling addictions. He has left those problems long behind him now and has cleaned up his act somewhat for the ship.
As far as Brummett is concerned, when you step on board the Endurance, this is your life and home now. The past is simply that, the past, and everyone on the ship has a clean slate.
And if that is not bad enough, I'm getting reports off the crew as to strange happenings occurring at night. They come to me with tales of ghostly wailing, or shouts of anger coming from the foredeck, yet when they go to investigate, there is nothing there. Worse than that, there have been sightings of a ghostly child drifting around below decks.
But wait, something comes on the horizon
A shadowy form. Perhaps finally, this is an end to this cursed never-ending voyage.
~~
Through the dense mist, a dark shape materialises and looms near. It is another sailing vessel, yet this one bears signs of a long and deadly life. The hull displays huge, gaping holes, yet water passes through the gaps without filling the breached hold. The rigging and sails hang in limp, tangled shreds, yet the ship moves forwards quickly despite the lack of wind. The decks and hull show signs of rot, and if the ship was ever painted there is no sign of it now -- the colour having long ago peeled and flaked away. The masts creak and sway, looking fragile and rotted.
The vessel's crew then appear on deck, first ten, then sixteen, then two dozen sailors. All pretensions of there being aid for the stricken ship Endurance were cast aside in seconds -- an illusion dispelled behind the cold, hard realisation that death had come for them. The crew of this ship -- they were not alive. Rotten, putrid flesh fell from walking corpses, fetid skin staining the rotten timbers of this ghostly decaying ship that even now approached. All were dressed in rags that were as rotten and torn as the mangled ship that came out of the shadows of the eternally grey horizon. Where fingernails once were, long claws jutted from grimy digits. Sharp fangs filled their rotting mouths. Most of them clutched rusty sabres, cutlasses, scimitars and long swords. As the ship neared, her name could be made out burned into the bow.
The Eternal Torture.
~~
This dark and sordid tale began with a badly written notice:
Handsum Payment for ezee work!!
If ye r willing sea-goers with strong stommicks seeking brieef adventur, reeport to tha good ship Endurance berthed at the lokal doks. I reekwire intrepid soles to fill out a crew for a herried deelivere voyage. Ye may reetern to this port or reemane at tha destinashun. Appeer before sundown - we sail at dawn! No land lubbers need apply!
When you signed onto the Endurance, you thought it would be an easy delivery job and a chance to make some easy money. What you found was anything but - a haunted vessel destined for an island of the dead.....
Dare you step aboard the Ship of Horrors?
Name: Brummett
Profession / Archetype: First Mate of the Endurance
Age: 37
Skills: Armed Combat, Ranged Combat, Agility
Strengths:
1) Brummet is the Endurance. Brummett's knowledge of the Endurance is second to none. He commands the respect of the crew of the ship, perhaps moreso than the Captain himself. He knows how to get the best out of the crew that work under him, and he certainly has their backing under most situations. If there is a crisis on board the ship, Brummett will usually know how to handle it.
2) The eternal optimist. Brummett's belief in himself and his crew is unshakeable. Irrespective of the situation that they find themselves in, he believes that they will always work through it. That optimism also rubs off on the crew and helps keep their morale up.
3) Aftereffects of addiction. Brummett's past as a recovering addict means that he has a stronger tolerance to poisonous and intoxicating substances that most others would have.
Weaknesses:
1) There is much that is hidden. Brummett's act of eternal optimism is precisely that -- an act. He finds himself in truth dealing with stresses and dangerous situations badly in secret, often struggling to restrain himself from turning to his natural cravings to satisfy his hedonistic needs.
2) I am a recovering addict. Brummett in years gone by was addicted to intoxicating substances. He finds himself struggling to suppress his inhibitions at the best of times, and can be both irritable and moody when struggling against his desires.
3) I failed my previous crew. Although he will never speak of it, Brummett hides a dark secret -- he was responsible for the death of, and was the only survivor of his previous crew. As a result, he will often push himself further and harder on the Endurance as if to overcompensate for his previous failures. One day he will likely push himself too far.
Appearance:
Brummett is a man in his late 30's. His blond hair is beginning to show some small streaks of grey, and it is bleached by the long hours that he has spent working under the gaze of the blazing sun. His features are slightly tanned and deep green eyes sparkle almost as if he is keeping some mysterious secret to himself. One thing that Brummett certainly is agile. He quite often sprints across the deck of the Endurance with the grace of a sprightly dancer.
Usually wearing a white shirt with brown breeches, his aura is one that radiates across to the rest of the crew of the Endurance. Indeed, it often seems that when Brummett is about that they work that little bit harder.
With a smile and a wink, Brummett is nothing if not ruggedly handsome, with a charming, charismatic aura that pervades the smoothness and charm that the man's aura pervades. He takes great pains to make his appearance flawless. From his smoothly combed golden hair, to his meticulously trimmed goatee, Brummett takes a lot of pride and time over his appearance.
Indeed, his appearance is all part of the package and appearance that he wishes peopleto see. Everything has its place, and everything has its purpose, and for him, he would not have it any other way.
His glowing emerald eyes are full of light and promise. When one looks into them, they see the promise of adventure and a life they could not possibly imagine. They see a doorway leading into another world, a world that while, perhaps wild and dangerous, is one of excitement and infinite possibilities. His smile steals both hearts and souls, and many a fawning lady would die just to see it for only a few seconds.
Personality:
There are two sides to Brummett, the side that he wishes you to see, and the truth. The image of Brummett that is portrayed to the crew is that of the perpetually cheerful man — the leader that in the absence of the ships captain is in control of the ship.
This version of Brummett is an optimist, he has a never say die attitude, he is there for the other crew members to lean on, and he will find a way to deal with any situation as it arises. He is the sort of person that inspires the crew of the Endurance and commands respect in such a way that even Captain Garvyn cannot.
It is also an illusion.
The real Brummett is a man that only ever appears when he is on his own. It is a man who is tormented by inner demons and nightmares that only he knows of. It is a man that is constantly walking on the edge, gazing down into the abyss as he struggles to resist the temptations that constantly gnaw away at his mind and sanity.
Brummett is a double edged sword. He feels trapped by his own failures and desires to make up for the terrible mistakes he has wrought in the past. He simply has to maintain that image of perfection for the rest of the crew, because the consequences of failure are too severe to even imagine. Yet, even as he struggles to maintain this illusion of control, he judges himself severely for any failure, both real and perceived.
And as he does, he slowly falls ever further into a downward spiral that he can barely keep at arms length.
It is just a matter of time now, no?
Background:
Not much is known of Brummett's early days, and if the question were to come up, then the First Mate would likely shrug it off with evasive words and a wink. The only past that people know of is that of his recent years on the Endurance. Yet there are moments that Brummett has let his guard down and divulged some aspects of his past.
Though much of his earlier days remain shrouded in mystery, the below has been gleaned from things that Brummett has let slip in conversations:
1) His early childhood was an unhappy one. Though the specifics of it are unknown, it is believed that Brummett sought a life on the seas to escape the life he lived on-shore.
2) The Endurance is not his first ship. Brummett has let slip that the crew he worked for previously are all dead now, however no one has been brave or foolhardy enough to press for more details than that.
3) It is believed that Brummett has, in his years before, had terrible problems with both drink and gambling addictions. He has left those problems long behind him now and has cleaned up his act somewhat for the ship.
As far as Brummett is concerned, when you step on board the Endurance, this is your life and home now. The past is simply that, the past, and everyone on the ship has a clean slate.