Nineteen years ago, a small group of seventy-five veterans of the Eruben War organized themselves into a band calling themselves the White Guard. In the years since, the White Guard has grown into an international effort of associated mercenary companies led by Captain Jaon Valhoa, one of the original seventy-five. Though the White Guard are generally well trained and supplied, the success of the White Guard can mostly be attributed to business branch - the administrators and representatives responsible for contract negotiations - who are perhaps even more ruthless than those in the field. The White Guard is not one singular outfit, but rather a conglomeration of dozens of smaller mercenary companies who have submitted themselves to the authority and standards of the central administration. The benefits of signing with the White Guard are notoriety, access to requisitions at reduced cost, and the option of pooling together with another White Guard chapter to meet the requirements some of the larger contracts stipulate. That the White Guard typically sends the closest local chapter to fulfill a contract also helps protect the reputation of the organization. Mercenary groups comprised mostly of locals helps mitigate some of the more disagreeable behaviors that foreign mercenaries might exhibit, especially when the land and people they are protecting are not their own. If all the local companies under the White Guard banner were to assemble, their numbers would surpass ten-thousand. This, however, is a theoretical estimation that in reality would be virtually impossible without breaking dozens if not hundreds of ongoing contracts across the nations. The local magistrate in Belencrest has contracted a retainer of one-hundred White Guard soldiers to remain in the city to aid in training and transitioning military responsibilities to the magistrate's footsoldiers.

These are the expectations that you may have of me, as well as those I will have of you. I am committed to posting one plot-forwarding entry a week, and I expect a response from all the characters within a week. Posts don't need to be long, only meaningful. Generally, your character should be doing or saying something to forward either the main story or your character's arc. If I do my job right, there should always be something to do in your post. If I fail and you can't think of anything, post in OOC saying as much. Just let me know and either I add something or you might skip that week. If someone is inactive for over a week and I haven't heard from them I will continue the story. Depending on what the plot needs, the character of the inactive player may or may not survive this. If you want to ensure your character stays alive, read the following section. Don’t feel bad if you need to quit. It happens. For the sake of the life of the game please let me know as soon as possible if you need to drop out. If you just need some time off and you want to keep your character (or maybe start a new one) when you come back, let me know; we can work something out. There may be a time when I need to take a break as well. If that happens, ideally I will have brought the game back to a “playground” area where your characters can continue to play and control NPCs without affecting the story until I return. At some point we will lose a player or the story might need some new blood to shake things up. We will have rolling sign ups which I will announce at the top of the first posts in IC and OOC. Depending on where the story has taken us, there may be restrictions on what kind of new characters are allowed. I plan on writing plot summaries along the way for each leg of the game, hopefully making it less intimidating for late-comers.

Name: Lazarus Greveus Description: Lazarus is a man not easily understood. He usually keeps himself well groomed and attired in form fitting suits. His long black hair is perfectly strait and kept behind his head in a silver clasp in the shape of a cobra, a symbol that matches an emerald ring on his left ring finger. He is an exceptional diplomat with hints of nobility in his bearing. He protrudes a slippery and venomous aura when close for no plainly explicable reason, something that is felt before seen; Dangerous but not malicious… Hopefully. Backstory: Lazarus hails from the most ancient and noble house Greveus, from the kingdom of Lancaster, a land of knowledge and political power. His father was advisor to the king, Centillius Lancaster, and Master of Totems. Just a title in reality, Lazarus knew, it was a political title that gave his father control over a third of the commerce in the kingdom. Lancaster is a nation that prizes power and those who know how to keep it after all. Each noble house has a powerful totem that they wear like a coat of arms. It is a direct representation of honor in this society. “You MUST keep the secret or else you are nothing! Secrets make us noble son, you will do well to remember that…” Or so his father told him every day it seemed. But politicking and scheming were far more dull subjects than totems. See Lazarus’ father, Lord Casius Ethos Greveus, was probably a worse totemologist than He was! His father was great at everything he did in his office, but it happens to be that that has very little to actually do with totems. But don’t misunderstand, his father made sure to get all the tutors he could for his son. He was the Master of Totems after all! Alas, in reality totems were just a tool, cunning was the ticket to power. And so it was; Lazarus got a wide education in everything, from influencing the masses, to the new engineering application of totems. He was being groomed to be one of the most influential nobles in Lancaster. Perhaps King himself if his father played his cards right. And that, in the end is what caused the house of Greveus' downfall. Misplaced ambition is the destruction of the lofty, for there is always one more cunning than you. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was late at night, in the dead of winter when Lazarus was summoned to his father’s chambers... “Have a seat my son, I shall like to share my last drink with you…” His father looked slightly pale. “Uh… I’m sorry father, but I do not understand.” Lazarus hated it when he didn’t get hidden messages in people’s superficious words. “Of course you do. I spoke plainly for, just this once my son” his father’s eyes were hazy in the fire light… "Your last drink of what? Understanding? Knowledge? Power?’ Lazarus tried to decipher the riddle. To no avail. None of it made sense! “Listen my son. I have put our house in great danger. My desire four our greatness has surpassed our place in the King’s court… Just remember I did it for you my son. I know you will be greater than I…” Casius gazed solemnly at his son, as if seeing a future, a future he wish would have been his. The pieces started falling into place for Lazarus, he literally meant what he said. Sure, you hear of great houses falling, but that wouldn’t happen to the most ancient house of Greveus. That kind of destruction only befalls the lesser houses... Lazarus was in shock! Never would he have believed it! “You jest father! You have the King’s ear! We are too powerful for that kind of trouble!!” Lazarus had tears coming to his eyes. The storied always ended bad, he couldn’t survive without his father. They are house Greveus! Crack! The door splintered and sprayed across the room. “Get down boy!” Casius shouted has he pulled his serpentine blade from it’s jeweled holster. The intruders gave no pause. The two of them were at his father’s desk before Lazarus could even blink. Knocking away the noble blade. It appears knowledge and politics didn’t count for swordplay... A quick twist of the wrist and blood splashed across Lazarus’ face. Unease A feeling of discomfort and danger permeated Lazrus’ soul. “Wha…aaa. at… is that!!!” Lazarus stuttered. “Be calm my son” His father spoke through gritted teeth, the blood coloring them red. “Our totem has been stolen.” His father spoke, but his voice grew dim in Lazarus’ head. But out Secrets are our power…. “No… Not our secrets…” All Lazarus had feared was coming to fruition at this most inopportune time. He needed to be strong now, but the reality of what was happening was sinking in. His father’s tutors were too good. He knew exactly what was happening and what it meant… The house of Greveus was falling. “I am Balthier Marth,” said a man from the doorway “and I claim your house.” The stories call for a righteous duel between the lords of each house. A noble battle to the death, where the righteous always win... Lazarus looked to his father, his bleeding face broken. “I, Lazarus of the most ancient house of Greveus, will defend our house to the death.” Lazarus spoke shakily. That’s what they said in the plays… “Son No!” His father rose with more agility than seemed possible. He deftly rolled across the floor, the house blade sliding into his hand. A lightning quick jab, no more force necessary than to pierce flesh, pinned Balthier Marth through his side. “I Casius Ethos Greveus, Master of Totems, and friend of the King, His Majesty Centillius Lancaster, refuse your challenge!” Lazarus’ father struck the blade deep and twisted sharply, causing a cracking noise to echo from Balthier's chest. “Go son this is no place for children.” His father spoke with venom. He was back!! Lazarus was infused with energy to see the Lord of the serpent house of Greveus stand tall and powerful again! Wack! No… Lazarus stared, eyes wide but unbelieving… “Not anymore…” *Cough* Blood splattered from the lord of house Marth's teeth. “You are no longer friend to the king…” The man dragged himself to his feet and pulled a dagger from his coat. “This is now the property of the most ancient house Marth!” And with that Balthier's blade ruptured Lazarus’ father’s back…. The henchmen that had so mercilessly hacked at his father’s back now faced Lazarus... The boy was in shock. Torn between the feelings of grief and vengeance. Balthier spoke, “Let us end his line and be done with it.” Lazrus knew his time was short. His eyes scanned the area frantically… The fire! “No!!!! Please sir, you have taken my father and my heritage. You must not take my life!” Lazarus cried unabashedly, he had just lost his father after all. “I will change my name! You will never see me again.” The boy broke down into sobs, frantically scooting away from the approaching henchmen. Balthier laughed and bent down towards the teary heir of house Greveus, “Oh child, it doesn’t work like that.” The Lord laughed and brandished his still bloody dagger, gleaming in the fire light. “Your right, it doesn’t.” Lazarus spoke, his voice steel, “The house of Greveus doesn’t beg!” Lazarus grabbed the heating totem from the fireplace, a scorching scream ripping form the boy's lips. With all his strength he slammed the super-heated metal against the Lord Marth’s face... A sudden out pouring of smoke and the smell of burnt flesh accompanied the blow... Nearly masking the sound of a cracking bone. With a rough crisscross of blistered and bleeding flesh, the Lord collapsed. Mentally disregarding the agony in his hand, Lazarus hurled the super-heated plate at the henchmen. The super-heated metal racing towards them was enough to discourage immediate pursuit. Perhaps with the addition of seeing their lord collapsed in the floor, smoking... Lazarus was able to flee through a nearby window without immediate pursuit. And so he leaped through the window, out of his child hood home, leaving his youth with blood and burnt flesh on the carpet. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That was fifteen years ago… But Lazarus’s reminds himself every day, His father was wrong. It wasn’t the secrets or the plotting. It wasn’t the King or the houses. No, power does not come from such common themes. It has, and always will be, totems that give true power. He was always more passionate about them than silly politics, and now he sees that he was always right! It was his father’s down fall to rely on such human endeavors; Lazarus knows where true power lies. So he has dedicated his life to finding the most powerful totems, to see the truth of the universe. His house is gone. Decimated by the broken Lancaster Empire. But there is a greater power out there... Their voices are woven in the very fabrics of the universe… The totems are the key, and Lazarus will decipher their language… Goals/Fears: Lazarus has lost all desire for riches and power in the way the rest of the world sees it. He saw his family get torn apart in such a blunder. Lazarus wants to find the secret of the totems, whatever the cost. He does not want power over people, but power over his own life. He fears falling into the trap of nobility. Becoming a pampered prince pretending to know how the world works. He knows it is all an act. A game with people’s lives counting as points. No... He is searching for something more. He knows there is meaning to all of this… But if there isn’t… Well... That would be his biggest fear of all. Mastery: Lazarus is a relative master in Manipulation, Diplomacy, and a journeyman in Totems. Equipment: Lazarus has the noble sword of house Greveus. A purely ceremonial blade. But, worth far more than its weight in gold. Although he was trained in dueling under his father’s name, he was always more prone to the academic nature of totems. Now that he is alone, he realizes the difference between the duels of lordlings, and a fight to the death. He knows he stands no chance in that arena. Never the less, the blade has significant diplomatic weight, since it is the symbolic blade of a most ancient house. In Lancaster none the less! Where only the most ruthless survive... His father was also able to transfer the wealth of his house out of Lancaster before their downfall. So Lazarus is exceedingly rich, though he cares little enough for it. In his mind, his wealth is only in his knowledge of runes. Personality:   Lazarus is unkind. Merciless. Unsympathetic. Maybe even cruel. But the truth is, he is blindingly focused. He is so consumed by his mission that nothing else is important, in that way you might call him arrogant. He would care about the suffering of others, if he could understand how it was more important than his own personal crusade. He is damaged, and it shows. But not in the way of an abused child, or battered woman... It makes him seem every bit the arrogant noble. A complete snob, above everybody else and their peasant squabbles. The truth is, he has been kicked in the mud and spit on more than most people ever will be. Imagine being the king’s friend one day, and then being a peasant with nothing to his name, the next... In his society, money didn’t mean anything compared to one's standing and House. His father made many enemies; something expected of his position, when you had that much power your decisions affected the whole kingdom. But when you lose the backing of the king you are the punching bag of society. With all that being said, even now all that matters is his mission. Lazarus has suffered immense fear in the face of combat, and now avoids it at all costs. But that doesn't mean he cant be useful elsewhere... It needs to be clear that Lazarus was raised under a completely different set of preconceptions and ideals than most. The kingdom of Lancaster prized the cunning and ambition of its houses. At one time the kingdom provided the most talented diplomats of the entire continent, able to bring an agreement to even the most hostile of enemies. Understand. There is a place for cunning and manipulation. The Lancaster kingdom has since lost this noble purpose and fallen into the ill repute of the other kingdoms on this continent. A great fall, marked in part, by the house of Greveus’ fall. Add to that the trauma of having your entire comfort zone, everything you know to be right and safe, destroyed when your 15, and you can imagine Lazarus. Totem: He carries a large grimoire of totems from all over the land that he has painstakingly gathered over the last 15 years. It is bound by a crisp black cover that glints of scales in the sunlight. With several inches of milky white paper perfectly cut to precise page sizes. It contains several of the general patterns of heating, finding, warding, and a variety of other elements. Very useful, a prize collection for most. But in reality. it is simply a practicality with no great use for Lazarus... His fifteen years haven’t been completely void of discovery though. He has won the understanding of another great totem to add to his own houses... His ring contains the house of Greveus’ great totem, of course. This totem emits an aura of unease and weakness that reacts to the wearer’s will. But what makes his houses totem great is the ability to weaken people’s mind, putting them in a state of compliance with the wearer’s goals. The more a request goes against a person’s beliefs the less likely it will succeed. But he also holds the Great Ruby of Panthos, a powerful war society from the east. This totem allows the wielder to slow time for 30 seconds once a day. Since Lazarus avoids combat at all costs he mostly uses it for eerie appearances or some unscrupulous endeavors.