In a world covered by dangerous wilds and unforgiving tribal warfare, there is only one sanctuary. The sprawling city of Allisaria, an industrial state existing in the western mountains of the world, reminiscent of Victorian London or Steampunk cities of fiction.
Allisaria is ruled by King Allard Alliser II and his family. They are descendant from the first King of Allisaria, Declan Alliser I. While the Allisarian kings were, for the most part benevolent, there was no love between Allard and his people. He's raised the taxes and gave the city watch unprecedented power. He ruled the city with an iron fist, and the people responded in kind.
After a reign of only four years, Allard, his wife, and two of his children were captured and executed by the Revolutionary Forces. One of his children survived, spirited away by some of the few Loyalists in the city. It wasn't long before the Rebels caught them. While Allard's child managed to escape, the Loyalists weren't so lucky.
The last of the Allisers found themself in a tavern, using the last of their coin to hire a guard to escort them out of Allisaria.
An overpopulated, industrialized city modeled after Victorian London. Pipes carrying steam, the lifeblood of Allisaria, line the walls of most every building. The city is shaped like a large circle, with the Alliser Palace in the center. The nobles live around the palace in a thin ring called Declan's Strip. Then, there's another ring of upper-class housing and businesses. The fourth ring, the largest is full of factories, mines, and boardinghouses for workers. The fifth and last ring is made up of sooty wooden shacks housing the unemployed. The "borders" of the city are nothing more than large expanses of farmland.
Technology is mostly like that of Victorian England. The only thing that sets it apart is the wide use of steam power.
Factories are mass-producing for the first time in history, made possible by steam machinery.
So-called "Horseless Carriages" are cruising the cobblestoned streets propelled by steam.
Flintlock is still the primary form of firearms, however, new repeating "Clockwork Weaponry" is the absolute top of the line. Swords and knives are still the most commonplace weaponry.
(Fill this out if your character is Allard's last child)
Name: (The last name will have to be Alliser. You can throw a "III" or a "VI" or something onto the end if you so desire.)
Age: (I say 'child', but the character can be as old or as young as you wish)
Gender: (Exactly what it says on the tin)
Appearance: (Picture or detailed description. If you use a picture, be sure to include a very brief description of the things your picture can't show. Height, weight, scars, ink, that sort of thing.)
Personality: (What are they like?)
Bio: (What was their childhood like? Did they get along with the other Alliser children? How did they like the royal life? What did the people think of them? Did they disagree with their father's choices? Things of that nature)
Skills: (An heir(ess) learns all sorts of things. Question is, how many of those things will be useful? Did they train with the captain of the guard? Were they fond of hunting or horseback riding? Did they tinker with steam machinery? Were they a great cook? How intelligent are they? Things of that nature)
Anything else?: (Any other interesting info? Habits, fears, quirks, facts and the like, as well and anything else that doesn't fit into the above sections.)
Name: (Can be anything you so desire)
Age: (Go wild. Teenage? Elderly? Young Adult? Middle-aged? Up to you!)
Gender: (Exactly what it sounds like)
Appearance: (Same as with the Royal. I'm feeling lazy, begging your pardon)
Personality: (Allisaria is home to all types. What are they like?)
Bio: (How did they end up as a hired guard? Were they actually just some random worker looking for coin? Were they a skilled loyalist noble, acting the patriot? So many possibilities!)
Alignment: (Loyalist, Rebel, or "Somewhere in the Between*" Why are they helping our dear Royal?)
Anything Else?: (As with the Royal, this is just a catch-all section.)
*Was a life of which we all dream.
That should be it, contact me with any questions or concerns.
Are there people outside of the city that are Loyalists?
We don't know. The people in Allisaria are totally unknowledgeable of the outside world. It is to be assumed that there are small settlements and tribes and things, but they likely couldn't give a shit about the happenings of Allisaria. Any tribes or settlements would likely only have smatterings of bought or scavenged Allisarian tech.
Appearance: A robust man standing at 6'4, Ebenezer was regarded as taller, but not nearly the size of a giant. Still, his broad shoulders made him seem as though he were a bear, and the fact that his face always seemed to be locked in a stern expression made him difficult to approach. The passage of cruel time has only made this harder; scars from harrowing brushes with death have left their marks in the form of scars on his brow and across his left eye (though undamaged). His limbs and torso brand bullet wounds, stitchings, and nicks from a life steeped in war so that all tell the same story : he survived, someone else didn't. His hair, unlike many others, is a vibrant carrot hue with bright cerulean eyes to boot, all embedded into a relatively pale canvas of skin. He cuts his hair short so only a few bangs jut out over his forehead; it's tough to grab, and it's aerodynamic. It would be easy to tell him out of a crowd in spite of the length, which is why he has a preference for covering his head whenever possible. That, or getting to places where people couldn't see him at all.
Personality: Severe, strict, wrathful. Ebenezer is a warrior through and through, where every step had to be taken with the mindset of chasing something or being chased by something. Years of hunting and fleeing would do that. Supposing that one could be considered an ally or subordinate, Ebenezer would come off as something of an authoritarian figure. His orders demanded 110% of any normal human capacity, and if they were not met, tirades and thrashings would be in order. But as a companion, a friend of sorts, Ebenezer would become a man complacent with anything one so wished, besides doing something absurdly reckless or stupid. It cannot be stressed enough that he can be driven to madness at time ill-spent. He'll always find a way to get some value out of his ventures, be by coinage, political power, some sense of gratitude and closure, and "entertainment". Nothing is too low if it gets the job done with surgical precision.
Bio: Ebenezer, as far as his memories could tell him, was born in the fourth ring. He, like many children at the time, worked in a factory. His particular trade was in the production of cogs and gears of all variable sizes. And, as was the norm for overseers, his overseer had a streak of sadism. Belt lashings to cold hands stiff from working late into the night, lickings and kickings to rouse the body for another day of work. On occasion, as a panacea for cases of extreme curiosity or stupidity, the children would all have a field day to the third ring to observe as to how the pieces were used. The children, more or less, were indoctrinated to believe that the production of such things were above the "petty pursuits of liberty and of happiness." All they needed to live for was to make more gears and cogs; the money, which came at a premium of four pence a month (or its equivalent; still, it's quite generous for the two-hundred-some children), would go to their families, wherever they were. Ebenezer was one of the few to keep money for himself. Miserable, yes, but without parents to cry to and only slightly older children already resigned to their fates as neighbors and cot-mates, there didn't seem to be any alternative to the usual life. The thought of anything else seemed absurd; the children had their part, and the big adults baking bread and artisan watchmakers all had theirs. So Ebenezer spent his money on the small things : food, little baubles, on occasion the desperate worker that needed the money to buy medicine, and so on and so forth. So what child of such simplicity would be so willing to throw someone over the railings of a bridge, into a clock tower's myriad of gears? Over his monthly pay, he stated. The young police officer was known for his frailty, and with it, his boyish cruelty. It wasn't of anger or discipline, nor of reasonable greed; the recruit was envious of everything, and so it stood to reason that he should treat even the littlest ones with contempt, unless they treated him with respect. And money. Ebenezer wasn't one known for his violence, for he was one to tolerate violence very well. But where the recruit was bountiful in his stores of envy, so Ebenezer was in wrath. When asked why he had killed the recruit, he stated that he had upheld the law where the recruit would not : he had punished the deed, where the recruit had committed it. When asked if he would do it again, Ebenezer stated he would do it for a thousand times over, if necessary. In this manner, such was the way how the first of the Spitz Brigade came to being. Young children would be scooped up from the fourth and fifth rings by plainclothes recruiters to be trained in a private expanse around the border. A bootcamp and school, if you would will, to transform them into little fighting "dogs". Ebenezer, in his small class of 19 members, became Captain for his inclination to manage everyone else's health, well-being, and disposition to one another in the first few months that the Spitz Brigade actually functioned. Granted, he wasn't familiar with the usage of a belt from the inflicting end, so his second-in-command Alan would do the deed. Alan was everything opposite to Ebenezer but in the extent of which punishment should be carried. Where Ebenezer was taught terror was utilized to maintain law and order, Alan saw terror as a more basic, hands-on tool : he could corral dissidents and criminals into an ambush set up by his lackeys. Ebenezer learned how to pull toenails and cover faces with wet cloth to keep the terror very real in an offender's mind. By the time Ebenezer and Alan were 18, they were "graduated" from the Spitz Brigade. Of the 19 children that came in, only 12 graduated alive. The dozen remainder became Regis Lupi when Allard's firstborn came into the world, as the King needed a personal hand that would last long enough until the next princes and princesses could care for themselves. Over the first few years, Alan began to think for himself, and Ebenezer thought for the society. When the pay started to come in excess, Alan and his friends purchased clothes, food...and on occasion, the service of women. Ebenezer and those more loyal to him spent their money improving the headquarters and hiring secretarial staff. And yet, the two shared these with each other. They were a singular family unit. At least, until 20 year-old Ebenezer was personally selected by Allard to prowl the fourth and fifth rings. Ebenezer deferred the task to Alan, but Allard insisted on Ebenezer's loyalty, and so Alan was left to take care of the pack. In those fourteen years, Ebenezer had taken his lodgings at the old gear factory he used to work at, though it was now repurposed into a housing complex for the children he grew up with so many years ago. The overseer passed and gave the property to one of the eldest workers, a woman fourteen years advanced on Ebenezer's years. The two, upon reconnecting, eventually had some relations, but by happenstance of the noxious conditions of the fourth ring, she could not bear children. She, at least, offered him an opportunity to work in the "worker's syndicate". And so he became at first a courier, then a smuggler, once he gained their trust. For his preference to rooftops and his prowess in combat (often leaving a bloody trail of officers and rivaling syndicate members), he became known as "Red-Tail," after the hawks that flew over the walls. Using his existing identity, he even smuggled things into the third and second rings, and garnered both respect and suspicion from his syndicate's leaders. They ordered the burning of the old factory, but ended up killing his old friends and the landlady instead. Ebenezer assassinated all the heads (tortured them for information prior, of course), and took power of the syndicate. But besides his incredible capability to smuggle and his skill at combat, all his social ties were to the old factory. No one could advocate well for him, and so he could not communicate with other syndicates. His mission turned into an abject failure. At least, he reported the flow of illegal arms to the King, but by then, most had disappeared somewhere. In haste, Ebenezer contacted the Regis Lupi to evacuate the Royal Family, in anticipation of some drastic event. But the letter came too late. Alan and the rest were killed to cover the heir/ess's escape, and the last Alliser child had came into Ebenezer's almost a moment too late. Ebenezer, by then, had lost everything as "Red Tail," the life he spent almost half his years to build. And his years as the Alpha of the Regis Lupi were all wiped away in the storm of the Revolution. He had lost everything, and was considering on drinking himself to death that night, damn the consequences. But if it could be done to spite the very people that had withheld their faith from him, in spite of everything he did on both sides, he had an opportunity to welcome an age of terror far worse than what petty things even Allard could come up with. And yet, death of alcohol could be very enticing at any given moment...
Alignment: Loyalist, but only in name. It just so happens that the Alliser heir/ess has wealth and is worth a pretty penny, on the chance that he could find the right people, and he already had good standing with the Royal Family in the first place. Who better to trust than the dog of the Royal Family?
Note(s): - Ebenezer has a ring usually made for the Allisers, as a gift and proof of his allegiance to the late King. Functions as a double-edged sword, now that the Kingdom's throne has been vacated. - Around the time Ebenezer received the heir/ess, he was wearing "Red Tail"'s gear. It'll function as a disguise, but not for long. Consists of fur boots to muffle the footsteps and tight-fitting cloth under some leather to reduce noise. - He dislikes the taste of alcohol, but tends to drink copious amounts of it if the opportunity is present. - He likes unleavened bread and lean meat over pastries and fatty meats. Vegetables are eaten only out of necessity. - The cello is his preferred instrument to listen to, though he plays no instrument. - Tends to ball up his right hand until his knuckles pop. Usually when bored; less when agitated. - When agitated, he rests his elbows on his knees, with his lips resting on his thumbs. His listening becomes more sensitive and his peripherals become his primary focus. - He is unfamiliar with clockwork or steam weapons; his focus in combat are ambushes and close quarters, and sometimes on flintlock firearms.
Appearance: A robust man standing at 6'4, Ebenezer was regarded as taller, but not nearly the size of a giant. Still, his broad shoulders made him seem as though he were a bear, and the fact that his face always seemed to be locked in a stern expression made him difficult to approach. The passage of cruel time has only made this harder; scars from harrowing brushes with death have left their marks in the form of scars on his brow and across his left eye (though undamaged). His limbs and torso brand bullet wounds, stitchings, and nicks from a life steeped in war so that all tell the same story : he survived, someone else didn't. His hair, unlike many others, is a vibrant carrot hue with bright cerulean eyes to boot, all embedded into a relatively pale canvas of skin. He cuts his hair short so only a few bangs jut out over his forehead; it's tough to grab, and it's aerodynamic. It would be easy to tell him out of a crowd in spite of the length, which is why he has a preference for covering his head whenever possible. That, or getting to places where people couldn't see him at all.
Personality: Severe, strict, wrathful. Ebenezer is a warrior through and through, where every step had to be taken with the mindset of chasing something or being chased by something. Years of hunting and fleeing would do that. Supposing that one could be considered an ally or subordinate, Ebenezer would come off as something of an authoritarian figure. His orders demanded 110% of any normal human capacity, and if they were not met, tirades and thrashings would be in order. But as a companion, a friend of sorts, Ebenezer would become a man complacent with anything one so wished, besides doing something absurdly reckless or stupid.
Bio: Ebenezer, as far as his memories could tell him, was born in the fourth ring. He, like many children at the time, worked in a factory. His particular trade was in the production of cogs and gears of all variable sizes. And, as was the norm for overseers, his overseer had a streak of sadism. Belt lashings to cold hands stiff from working late into the night, lickings and kickings to rouse the body for another day of work. On occasion, as a panacea for cases of extreme curiosity or stupidity, the children would all have a field day to the third ring to observe as to how the pieces were used. The children, more or less, were indoctrinated to believe that the production of such things were above the "petty pursuits of liberty and of happiness." All they needed to live for was to make more gears and cogs; the money, which came at a premium of four pence a month (or its equivalent; still, it's quite generous for the two-hundred-some children), would go to their families, wherever they were. Ebenezer was one of the few to keep money for himself. Miserable, yes, but without parents to cry to and only slightly older children already resigned to their fates as neighbors and cot-mates, there didn't seem to be any alternative to the usual life. The thought of anything else seemed absurd; the children had their part, and the big adults baking bread and artisan watchmakers all had theirs. So Ebenezer spent his money on the small things : food, little baubles, on occasion the desperate worker that needed the money to buy medicine, and so on and so forth. So what child of such simplicity would be so willing to throw someone over the railings of a bridge, into a clock tower's myriad of gears? Over his monthly pay, he stated. The young police officer was known for his frailty, and with it, his boyish cruelty. It wasn't of anger or discipline, nor of reasonable greed; the recruit was envious of everything, and so it stood to reason that he should treat even the littlest ones with contempt, unless they treated him with respect. And money. Ebenezer wasn't one known for his violence, for he was one to tolerate violence very well. But where the recruit was bountiful in his stores of envy, so Ebenezer was in wrath. When asked why he had killed the recruit, he stated that he had upheld the law where the recruit would not : he had punished the deed, where the recruit had committed it. When asked if he would do it again, Ebenezer stated he would do it for a thousand times over, if necessary. In this manner, such was the way how the first of the Spitz Brigade came to being. Young children would be scooped up from the fourth and fifth rings by plainclothes recruiters to be trained in a private expanse around the border. A bootcamp and school, if you would will, to transform them into little fighting "dogs". Ebenezer, in his small class of 19 members, became Captain for his inclination to manage everyone else's health, well-being, and disposition to one another in the first few months that the Spitz Brigade actually functioned. Granted, he wasn't familiar with the usage of a belt from the inflicting end, so his second-in-command Alan would do the deed. Alan was everything opposite to Ebenezer but in the extent of which punishment should be carried. Where Ebenezer was taught terror was utilized to maintain law and order, Alan saw terror as a more basic, hands-on tool : he could corral dissidents and criminals into an ambush set up by his lackeys. Ebenezer learned how to pull toenails and cover faces with wet cloth to keep the terror very real in an offender's mind. By the time Ebenezer and Alan were 18, they were "graduated" from the Spitz Brigade. Of the 19 children that came in, only 12 graduated alive. The dozen remainder became Regis Lupi when Allard's firstborn came into the world, as the King needed a personal hand that would last long enough until the next princes and princesses could care for themselves. Over the first few years, Alan began to think for himself, and Ebenezer thought for the society. When the pay started to come in excess, Alan and his friends purchased clothes, food...and on occasion, the service of women. Ebenezer and those more loyal to him spent their money improving the headquarters and hiring secretarial staff. And yet, the two shared these with each other. They were a singular family unit. At least, until 20 year-old Ebenezer was personally selected by Allard to prowl the fourth and fifth rings. Ebenezer deferred the task to Alan, but Allard insisted on Ebenezer's loyalty, and so Alan was left to take care of the pack. In those fourteen years, Ebenezer had taken his lodgings at the old gear factory he used to work at, though it was now repurposed into a housing complex for the children he grew up with so many years ago. The overseer passed and gave the property to one of the eldest workers, a woman fourteen years advanced on Ebenezer's years. The two, upon reconnecting, eventually had some relations, but by happenstance of the noxious conditions of the fourth ring, she could not bear children. She, at least, offered him an opportunity to work in the "worker's syndicate". And so he became at first a courier, then a smuggler, once he gained their trust. For his preference to rooftops and his prowess in combat (often leaving a bloody trail of officers and rivaling syndicate members), he became known as "Red-Tail," after the hawks that flew over the walls. Using his existing identity, he even smuggled things into the third and second rings, and garnered both respect and suspicion from his syndicate's leaders. They ordered the burning of the old factory, but ended up killing his old friends and the landlady instead. Ebenezer assassinated all the heads (tortured them for information prior, of course), and took power of the syndicate. But besides his incredible capability to smuggle and his skill at combat, all his social ties were to the old factory. No one could advocate well for him, and so he could not communicate with other syndicates. His mission turned into an abject failure. At least, he reported the flow of illegal arms to the King, but by then, most had disappeared somewhere. In haste, Ebenezer contacted the Regis Lupi to evacuate the Royal Family, in anticipation of some drastic event. But the letter came too late. Alan and the rest were killed to cover the heir/ess's escape, and the last Alliser child had came into Ebenezer's almost a moment too late. Ebenezer, by then, had lost everything as "Red Tail," the life he spent almost half his years to build. And his years as the Alpha of the Regis Lupi were all wiped away in the storm of the Revolution. He had lost everything, and was considering on drinking himself to death that night, damn the consequences. But if it could be done to spite the very people that had withheld their faith from him, in spite of everything he did on both sides, he had an opportunity to welcome an age of terror far worse than what petty things even Allard could come up with. And yet, death of alcohol could be very enticing at any given moment...
Alignment: Loyalist, but only in name. It just so happens that the Alliser heir/ess has wealth and is worth a pretty penny, on the chance that he could find the right people, and he already had good standing with the Royal Family in the first place. Who better to trust than the dog of the Royal Family?
Note(s): - Ebenezer has a ring usually made for the Allisers, as a gift and proof of his allegiance to the late King. Functions as a double-edged sword, now that the Kingdom's throne has been vacated. - Around the time Ebenezer received the heir/ess, he was wearing "Red Tail"'s gear. It'll function as a disguise, but not for long. Consists of fur boots to muffle the footsteps and tight-fitting cloth under some leather to reduce noise. - He dislikes the taste of alcohol, but tends to drink copious amounts of it if the opportunity is present. - He likes unleavened bread and lean meat over pastries and fatty meats. Vegetables are eaten only out of necessity. - The cello is his preferred instrument to listen to, though he plays no instrument. - Tends to ball up his right hand until his knuckles pop. Usually when bored; less when agitated. - When agitated, he rests his elbows on his knees, with his lips resting on his thumbs. His listening becomes more sensitive and his peripherals become his primary focus. - He is unfamiliar with clockwork or steam weapons; his focus in combat are ambushes and close quarters, and sometimes on flintlock firearms.
Wow, stellar sheet. I like that Sandor Clegane thing he's got going on. 10/10, I'll have mine up tonight or tomorrow.
I'm gonna cry in the corner now that my guy is being compared to a simple lasagna-face with brother issues...
He's got momma issues. It's a whole different world.
I'm honored that my writing is comparable to that of a morbidly obese geezer that makes a hit by making fantasy a rehashed history book. Also joking around on this.
I'm gonna cry in the corner now that my guy is being compared to a simple lasagna-face with brother issues...
He's got momma issues. It's a whole different world.
I'm honored that my writing is comparable to that of a morbidly obese geezer that makes a hit by making fantasy a rehashed history book. Also joking around on this.
I mean, "...dog of the Royal Family."
But for reals, I dig Ebenezer. What would an RP be with the resident badass?
Slightly modified Personality bubble to avoid him from becoming too much of a "tough on the outside, soft on the inside" archetype. I like my villains on the wrong side causing all sorts of rotten degradation!
Jesus. I kinda forgot about this. I guess I wasn't subscribed like I thought. I'm going to have to say no because it's going to take me a few days to get a CS up. I'm really sorry man.