no longer accepting people.



Ah, Ravnica. City of Guilds. Truly, a crossway of people, ideas and mana. Like any metropolis, it bustles with people, each leading their own lives, crossing and never crossing others'… the ambition of the masses is so low, truly. Survive, live on, repeat endlessly. And yet, such a city could be a keystone to far greater ambitions. Perhaps, after Alara, this is the right plane to focus my attentions on.

~

Welcome to Ravnica, where the ambitions of the few flow into, alongside and against the ambition of the many. You have always known it to be so, and have always observed from a distance, a step-removed from the anthill. Indeed, your ambitions have always aligned with those of the many -- it is your task to safeguard those ambitions, and make sure an individual ambition does not become too great and threaten the livelihood of everyone else. People speak of the Azorius, and the Dimir, but truly, it is you who have kept balance: you are the Transguild Promenade. An organization not affiliated to any one Guild, dedicated to preserving the chaotic balance of Ravnica. Your life is dangerous, however. There are many who would have you arrested, or beheaded, or worse still. Furthermore, recently, unsettling events have been afoot. You have heard rumors of plots and machinations unlike those before, and an even greater threat, an ambition so overbearing the lesser could end up trampled over.



~

Name: Kel'Torak
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Stunted)
Color(s): B/G

Personality: Surprisingly from his form he is a pleasant individual to those who speak with him. Kel’Torak speech is calm and quiet with hints of compassion towards others. He seems constantly fascinated by both the grotesque and beautiful, as if both were one. A plague sloughing the bones from the afflicted intrigues him as much as the birth of an entirely new creature, they are the same to him.

Appearance: Misshapen for his kind and looking entirely inhuman with large luminous eyes. He wears a set of dark green and brown robes with a blackened cowl to hide his features. They are marred from his constant exposure to life’s many forms and stages. His left arm is constantly rotting to develop new forms of life from its decay, while his right arm is continuously thriving to foster new means of death to hold it in check. He is short of stature, drawn in and unobtrusive, but when roused his presence seems to fill the space around him like a creeping mold or vine.

History: "Enter those who are starving and sick. You are welcome among the Swarm when the rest of Ravnica rejects you." Kel'Torak grew up shunned by all who saw him, struggling to scrape out a life among the scraps left by others. With desperation he accepted the message upon the entrances of the Swarm and delved into the under-city, finding safety and food in the dark recesses of the world. However even his small frame was large enough to be a decent sized morsel for the less discerning members of the Golgari. He grew up as part of the cycle of life and death, hunting and being hunted, witnessing predation from the smallest seedlings on corpses to that of insects tearing apart monstrosities. In a twisted way the lesson taught was no matter how small or large, anything can be consumed. In this environment many times Kel'Torak came close to death and with each time his powers stirred. Finally his connection to the land and its dead bloomed in him, granting the powers of a Golgari Druid, wielder of the forces of growth and decay. With his powers came the ability to foster life even in its darkest most meager forms. Kel’Torak set out to help that which creeps and sneaks thrive until it consumes even the mightiest beings. But many on Ravnica would see moss and mold burned away or insects decimated, driving Kel’Torak to seek a way to keep those who would cleanse Ravnica to their own liking in check.

Edit: Not Yet Awakened to his Spark, Will save that for when we stumble upon inter planar shenanigans.

Name: Oldus Vul, Boros Convert
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Colors: R/G/W
Appearance: Oldus' varied past allegiances are obvious in his appearance. He is tall and well built, and his skin is crawling all over with geometrical tattoos. His hair is dark, and though he has allowed it to grow quite long like a Gruul, he keeps it well controlled out of habit from his Boros days. His clothes are mostly civilized, but with a wild touch that would let anyone take a guess at his parentage.


Personality: Oldus has a very interesting history that has left him with equal parts fierceness and inquisitiveness. Both wildness, and a sense of justice. He is quick to defend the weak, and equally quick to punish the wicked. He relishes combat, but also conversation. His thirst for knowledge is unfortunately often overridden by his impulsive nature. Though he desires to know about the world around him, he'll often take action before considering the possible outcomes. This leaves him with a lot of missed opportunities and a fear of regretting his actions.
Though he has been in the "civilized" world for over ten years, he still lacks any sense of modesty or decorum. He is often berated for his habit of nonchalantly stripping naked regardless of who is in the room, and will leave his home in various states of undress.

History: Oldus is the son of Burning Tree Clan's emissary to the other Guilds. His father is unknown. His mother carried him in her travels until he was four years old, and he saw more in his formative years than most children who are reared in the Gruul clans.
"Survival of the fittest" holds true, even for the youngest of the clans, and Oldus was one of the fittest indeed. He had something that many Gruul lack. A potential for intellect. He may not have been the biggest or the fastest or the strongest, but he outsmarted those who were, and grew into his strength and speed and size in his own time.
By the time he was sixteen, still a child by many culture's standards, he was already an accomplished shaman and warrior. And it was during this year that everything changed for him. A raiding party from his clan clashed with a Boros regiment defending the crumbling edge of one of the districts. Though the Boros were much fewer in number, they slaughtered the Gruul warriors by the tens. Most of his comrades cursed and grew angrier, but Oldus alone paused to think why they fought so. Were they stronger? No. They were mostly men, and in fact the Gruul had many larger beings with them. He saw, from a distance, the reason for their overwhelming victory. High above the battle, there flew an angel. Some would get superstitious and think that they were blessed, but Oldus again differed. He listened, and he heard that she was calling commands down at them. He realized that she saw the battle from a different perspective. One that the Gruul lacked completely. Oldus waited until she directed her gaze to a different part of the battlefield, and then hefted his spear, and lunged it with a spell to strengthen and guide it. It struck and injured her in the wing, and he rushed to where she plummeted.

Instead of striking a killing blow, Oldus spoke to the angel, as the battle raged on nearby. He asked her questions, and the two spoke until the sound of swords axes and spells halted. She told him about the white magic that she knew, and he was curious. Neither knew what would become of the battle, until a Boros search party came to find her. She celebrated their victory while Oldus was taken as a prisoner, destined, it would seem, to an Azorious trial. But it was the angel who intervened. She offered him a place under her in the Boros Legion, and he happily accepted that in lieu of interrogation and ultimate execution.

And so he was trained in the fighting tactics and battle magic used by the Boros, and soon fought beside them as a battlemage. His comrades soon forgot where he came from, and he was accepted into their ranks as if he had always been there. He fought beside them for the ten years that the Boros require of any recruit, and then left with the wages he had earned. Though he had grown to love and respect his comrades, his wild upbringing was always at odds with the strict discipline of the Boros. Still, the Legion had instilled in him a desire to protect the people of Ravnica's districts, and he continued to fight for them when necessary.

It was this that drew the Transguild Promenade to him.

Other:
Artifacts in his possession: A Beastcaller's Horn, which attracts wild creatures of any description to the noise. And a crude iron helm, with the antlers of a great elk he hunted. It is enchanted so that whoever wears it has an affinity with beasts. Weaker willed ones will obey his commands, stronger willed ones will at the very least refrain from attacking him.
The helmet is a full faced, the antlers are attached to the back and wrap around so that they face forward.

He carries a khopesh sword on his person at all times, and also has a spear and shield that he will use when heading to a fight.

Name: Yaeder Bruscov
Age: 173
Gender: M
Color(s): Colorless

Personality: Yaeder is a very slow and thoughtful person, but tends to be quite hot-headed. He is the most dedicated and loyal member of the Transguild Promenade, literally working 24/7 as their librarian, day and night guard, occasional chef, and full-time artificer. Many of the other members refer to him as a friend because of his pleasant personality, and occasionally as a mentor. He has a habit of organizing books, often depending on their varying information and sizes.

History: In his past, long before he joined the Transguild Promenade, Yaeder had stumbled upon an Aether Vial while searching for a cure to a disease wreaking havoc on his body. Unable to find the concoction through normal means, he went to the black market, where he was given a "cure-all that would last a lifetime". Despite the intent of the seller, the contents did exactly as they were advertised; Yaeder was cured permanently of anything that would kill him.... Including death itself. He was given magic, which he had never had before, along with eternal life. While he was originally overjoyed by this, it quickly turned to loneliness as he watched the people he knew die around him.

While he would eventually rejoin society, Yaeder didn't want to lose the people he cared about again. He shut himself away into an abandoned workshop, where he "made" some friends; metallic, loyal, and equally as undying as himself. During his retreat, he began to see visions in his head of devices in worlds outside of his own; perhaps a side-effect of the Aether. While he ignored them for some time, he eventually started building them. Despite enjoying the company of his automatons and machines, Yaeder found himself longing for something. Although unsure about what, it became realized after leaving the worn building.

One day, a bird flew through a crack in the window and stole a metal gear from his desk. In pursuit, Yaeder hopped onto a metallic chimera and flew out after it. While he was doing so, he saw a man being overpowered by a group of people. Stopping his chase, Yaeder dove down to help the man. After the rescue, the man thanked him, but then told him something slightly unsettling; because he had killed those men, an entire guild of people would now be out for his head. However, rather than simply leave him with that information, Yaeder was offered protection from them. But how would that single man be able to help him escape from thousands? It turned out, that the man was not alone; he belonged to the Transguild Promenade. Although he had never heard of it before, Yaeder decided he might as well take the offer.

On that day, Yaeder Bruscov became the eternal member of the Transguild Promenade. As for what was troubling him, he finally realized that what he needed was someone to talk to. Animated figures could provide company, indeed, but they could not talk. While he didn't enjoy farewells, it was far better for him to be with people than without.
Other: Enjoys mashed potatoes.

Gisk is right, there aren't any Kithkin in Ravnica… but who cares.

So FVGT, he's, like, a half construct? Humans can't be colorless, unless they lack mana completely for some reason (which you've mentioned), which would be interesting.

And, if your character is a planeswalker, be sure to mention when they were awakened, how, and why are they sojourning in Ravnica.

Name: Mamoru, The Raving Lunatic
Age:24
Gender:M
Color(s):Red,Black
Appearance:
Personality: Mamoru is insane and has multiple personalities, each being a voice of a moral. He enjoys swordplay, and killing anyone who angers him, but defends anyone who he likes.
History: Mamoru was born on Kamigawa, when he was young, his family was murdered by the angry kamis invading the realm of mortals. this caused him to teeter on the edge of insanity. For many long years he became a ruthless bandit intent on killing anything in his way. pillaging cities and destroying villages. He completely lost his mind after watching his nezumi friend become devoured by another kami. Mamoru gained his spark when O-Nagachi appeared. Right before he was obliterated, his spark activated and he accidentally planeswalked to Ravnica. He incidentally walked into a Rakdos fighting pit, killing both contestants. Mamoru slowly worked his way up in rakdos, never dying in any of the dangerous activities, and slowly gaining the notice of Rakdos himself.He now works in rakdos as an assassin, and a friend of Rakdos.

Other: He enjoys rats, and hates spirits.

as soon as you can tell me how a friend of the God of Riots is in an organization (or would join one) dedicated to protecting order, I'll approve this.

My thought for this would be that the voice of order in his head overpowers the others, and controls him almost dictatorially, making him do stuff he wouldn't other wise do.

if you want to play that way, sure.

@ everyone: The Transguild Promenade is not Azorius: assassination and espionage are perfectly fine, provided it works towards the good of the many as opposed to the few, which is what Dimir does.

You should probably write out the colors. Since blue and black both start with B. I can guess what you are, but it might be better to be clear.

Usually blue is denoted as U, but yeah I'll switch it.

Blue is U Gisk. Fear not.

Sathanas I have fleshed out my character for your approval if you want to take a look. I changed it from Kithkin to just a disfigured smaller individual that looks vaguely human. Either way I just wanted to play someone more concerned with caring for the little things in life. Please let me know if I need to change or expand upon anything.

I like it.

Oh, say true?

I didn't know that, only really played the game itself, where they are notated by symbols. Well alright then.

Is there a reason there's no appearance section, and is it okay to put a picture?

the reason is because I'm dumb and totally forgot. Written description/picture works just as well, though I tend to think the latter is complementary to the former.

Oh, well okay then.

I'm going to get to work on a character soon.

Former Gruul warrior shaman.

Name: Niassa the Judge.

Age: Seventy four. Her appearance is of a young adult, no older than twenty five.

Gender: Female.

Color(s):

Appearance:
(Like an Cartel Aristocrat, except she doesn't wear a headpiece. Instead, flowing, shoulder length, charcoal colored hair replaces it.)

Personality: Vindicative, to say the least. Niassa is passively aggressive until someone makes the mistake of wronging her in the slightest. The only thing for them to expect? For the wrath of the Orzhov judge and executioner to befall you for your transgressions.

History: Niassa lived in the secret filled city of Orzhova, home to constant extortion and a new evil joining the ranks every few days. She was just one of the wary citizens, having no where else to go. She decided to further her allegiance to the Orzhov guild by joining the government in its corrupted doings, eventually gaining the position of some sort of judge, if one could even call it that. This was, however, until Niassa was afflicted by vampirism when she made the mistake of taking her time outside of Orzhova after a more than fruitful meeting with an Izzet deserter. She was struck in the clavicle by the fangs of a Nighthawk. Instead of killing her, like most bites from one would, she simply fell unconscious.

Niassa awoke with a major loss of blood and a new found power. She eventually nursed herself back to full health and resumed her duty as an 'ever vigilant judge' for those convicted of crossing the council. However, with the power of vampirism, comes the need to feed. She has done well to rarely feast, but one can only hold out for so long...

Other: Niassa is awakened by the effects of vampirism, though she is completely unaware of what she is capable of. Her spark is there, but it isn't.

((I'm really hoping this character doesn't seem too overwhelming. That is the opposite of what I want it to seem like. Just tell me if she needs toned down, and I will adjust appropriately. Also, I'm sorry I couldn't get this CS in sooner.))

Edit: There you go, Rex! :D

I like it except -- nobody knows of the Transguild Promenade's existence. It has a lot of enemies, considering the number of guildmembers it's killed. So if you want you can omit the connection entirely, as long as there's a reason why they'd join.