In all the kingdoms and nations of the world, the clergy are an extremely important cog in the machinations of society. They are the holy soldiers and clerics who answer directly to a country's God or Goddess, and are thus blessed with a minuscule fraction of their patron deity's power to supplement their limited human potential.

In the Western Continent, the Holy Orders who serve the whims of their Gods are given a large spectrum of duties-- they can be cardinals who work in the ruling government of a kingdom, leaders who act as spiritual priests to the common folk, and inquisitors who's purpose is to hunt demons, convert foreign people to their religion, or to simply aid regular soldiers during wartime.

Inquisitors are by far the most feared and respected of all priests. Less spiritual leaders and more elite soldiers, they are trained from a very young age in religious doctrine, magic, physical combat, and war strategy until they reach an elevated plateau of skill and knowledge that regular warriors rare attain.

An Inquisitor's training is brutal and uncompromising-- so much so that few of the trainees survive it.

In Varya, the Red Seminary is where Inquisitors are trained, and in these halls many have suffered for their devotion. Despite this, the Inquisitors of the Red Seminary are known as the most potent in their skill, surpassing even the Priests of Lanostre.

After the Varyan Empire annexed its four neighboring nations, the priests of Omestris, Muraad, and T'saraen were put to death. Only the clergy of Lanostre were allowed to live, as they were capable warriors and were instead placed into the Varyan military.

All humans are born with a substance known as 'ether' coursing within them. Throughout history, 'ether' has been called a variety of names by many different kinds of people-- Divine fire, soul warmth, the inner light, ect-- but in this modern era, where science and technology have taken center stage in society, the term 'ether' is more widely used.

Ether is a gift given to human beings by the gods. It is an unquantifiable substance which exists within a person's blood, cloaking the body and its organs from the preternatural cold which permeates the world. It allows regular people to live their lives without fear of freezing to death.

This 'protection' from the cold only pertains to the continents, which are shielded in a paling of heat by the gods. This has allowed for some small measure of life to return to the continents-- small snow-covered forests and half-frozen rivers dot the landscape outside of the cities, with animals and birds existing peacefully in the revived ecosystems. These naturalistic areas are typically only available to the very wealthy and are typically used as sites for their mansions and palaces.

When leaving the aegis of warmth that surrounds and covers the landmasses, the frozen oceans await, and upon them rage the dark blizzards where the ether in one's blood proves useless against the cold. The storms that dance chaotically over the iced oceans are not natural, and are said to be ancient echoes from the cataclysmic battle between the two titans. It is said that they exist only to steal the heat from the world.

Apart from supplying extra warmth, ether is also an incredibly potent power source that is commonly used to fuel the massive machines that help in operating the colossal cities of the modern age as well as military vehicles and ordnance. Ether also acts as the sole catalyst which allows the few individuals of the world who've been blessed with the gift of magic to cast their arcane miracles.

Ether can only be harvested by special machines or by magical means. Once a person has lost their ether, they will freeze to death if they haven't died already.

A small volume of ether is enough to power an entire household, and during prior times in history, it was enough for ether to be collected from a dying or elderly family member in order to heat a homestead. However, as technology has grown more sophisticated and massive cities have been erected upon the snows to shelter humanity, the use of ether to power these monolithic urban sprawls has increased.

When the Ice Titan's form was shattered into Twelve Remnants by the Titan of Fire, each of those wayward pieces fell to different regions of the world. Four of the Remnants fell on the Western Continent, and upon gaining sentience, they set out to carve their own power bases in order to eventually consume each other. The other nine remnants' whereabouts are currently unknown, though it is believed that they fell to the East, a frontier shrouded in mystery to the western civilizations.

As each of the Remnants was once a specific body part of the Ice Titan, it is believed that each of the lesser gods has inherited certain traits of the Ice Titan. For example, the goddess La Nostre was once the Ice Titan's trident, and so She is more powerful than other Remnants in matters of war. These "genetic" gifts also spread down to the people, as the ether gifted to human beings is different depending on which patron deity one is born under.

Currently, only four gods of the Broken Pantheon are known to the western humans.

Varya : (VAH-ree-uh)
'The Ravenous Lord'

A Remnant of the Titan of Ice, Lord Varya fell to the northern-most region of the Western continent upon the Ice Titan's breaking by the Titan of Fire. There, Lord Varya went on to found the powerful and industrial nation which now carries his name-sake.

Lord Varya was once a remnant composed of the Ice Titan's stomach, but like all of the lesser gods, He has taken different forms throughout the ages. For the past several centuries, Varya has veiled Himself in a human-like form, that of a middle-aged dark-haired man with a prominent beard, which his people have now adopted as his defacto appearance.

Owing to His prior existence as the Ice Titan's stomach, Lord Varya is eternally hungry, and exists to devour and conquer. Due to his constitution, the Varyan Empire has evolved as a militaristic super-power since its founding.

Long ago, the Varyan empire conquered the nation of T'sarae, a country founded by the Remnant of the Ice Titan's skull. T'sarae's people were great scientists and engineers, and their annexation transformed Varya into a technologically-advanced empire. The Varyan capital city, now a sprawling metropolis of steam and steel, shows the fruits of the T'saraen people's scientific acumen.

Native Varyans are pale-skinned with fair features and grow to be above average in height. They are a deeply patriotic race, and common Varyan folk known to be quite boisterous, loud, and gregarious. When it comes to battle they are brave and unyielding and are known to be the best marksmen in all the Western continent.

Lovejoy's Note to all RPers:
*The people and society of the Varyan Empire are loosely based on historical Russia, so names for Varyan characters should be Slavic-sounding-- EX: Mikhail, Vitaly, Sven, Anastasia, Emilya

**Varya is the only country that I've really spent a lot of time creating. The other four nations, T'sarae, Muraad, Omestris and La Nostre, are less complete in their creation. I am hoping that we can all brainstorm ideas about these other kingdoms and their people together and have their creation be more collaborative.

T'sarae : (Tah-SAH-ray)
'The Lord of Knowledge & Creation'

Lord T'sarae once existed as a Remnant composed of the Ice Titan's skull, and thus He inherited the dead god's intelligence and curiousity. Falling upon the eastern edge of the Western Continent, Lord T'sarae founded a small kingdom whose people evolved to become heralded thinkers and scientists.

Owing to this origin, T'sarae was unlike other Remnants, and instead of seeking war against His brethren, He instead focused his divine will on creating a tranquil land where His people could grow and evolve so that one day, they might heal the world through peaceful means.

This dream could not continue, for the other Remnants were filled with an animalistic hunger to be whole again, and that meant that the law of this world would be written in blood.

T'sarae was the first of Varya's conquests, and now His people have chosen a new God. The newer generation of T'saraens have a high position in Varyan society, as it is their mechanical creations that have allowed Varya's society and military to grow exponentially. Few T'saraens remember the god of their ancestors, who know lays imprisoned somewhere in Varya, His divine blood being slowly drained by Lord Varya.

*

Omestris and Muraad
(Up for creation)

Two nations that were conquered by Varya hundreds of years ago. Their people now pray to Varya, as their Gods, Omestris and Muraad, have been imprisoned in the Varyan capital since their annexation.

Lanostre (lah-NOST)
"The Lady of the Trident"

La Nostre, a powerful Remnant that once existed as the Ice Titan's trident, fell to a subcontinent south across the sea from the Western landmass after the Fire Titan's final, desperate attack. Like all of her brethren, Lady Lanostre abandoned the jagged remnant of ice that was her original physical form and has adopted different appearances throughout the ages. When she was last seen surrendering to Lord Varya, Lady Lanostre had taken on the form of a human woman armoured in azure plate, and this visage is how she has been remembered ever since.

Before its annexation by the Varyan Empire, the Queendom of Lanostre was a nation of warriors who lived and breathed fighting. Lanostran children, boy and girl alike, were trained from an early age in the ways of war, and its men and women were known throughout Varya as a dangerous sort not to be trifled with.

The reason why the people of Lanostre spent their whole lives training themselves for battle was because the Queendom had long fought a series of wars against a race of ice demons which regularly attacked their borders. The origin of these ice demons is a mystery, but it is believed that they are the rogue aspects of one of the Western Gods.

After being invaded by the Varyan Empire, Lanostrans were welcomed by their former foes with open arms into Varya's social umbrella. These days, the people of Lanostre live peacefully next to their Varyan comrades in the capital of Varya and are known as fierce and powerful soldiers in the Empire's legions.

Name: Motya Bratva “Father Motya” or more formally “Father Bratva”
*Note: Motya means a man with bad luck but good sense and Bratva is the term for the Russian mob. I thought Bratva would translate well as "slave brotherhood" in Varyan dialect, a sort of generic name all slaves use.

Age: 22

Height/Weight: 5’8” and 230 pounds

Appearance: Motya is a brute of a young man. Compared to most of his peers he is shorter, compact, and he is often called the little bear by the people that know him well enough to get away with such a practice. The young brawler’s arms are slabs of muscle attached to shoulders that have born the weight of harsh labor and his hands show the trauma of scarring and multiple finger breaks. His legs, built from years of slave labor and inquisitorial training, are just short of being small tree trunks and they need to be in order to hold up the man’s rotund belly and barrel chested torso. Motya keeps his head clean shaven and his cheeks and chin are covered in a neatly trimmed, long and tapered beard in the style of most Varyan men. His eyes are a deep chocolate brown color and shadowed under a heavy set brow. Both his nose and ears are just slightly large, the former looking to have been misaligned by force, the later pierced through with brass rings. The most distinguishing feature of Motya’s countenance is the large stylized “H shaped” tattoo that covers his face, a mark placed on him by the slave masters of the Harayatva mine he was born in, marking him as a slave born child. Various priests have offered to remove it through mechanical or magical means but Motya has refused, in fact as he has grown he has maintained the tattooed mark. He not only sees it as a symbol of how far he has risen but as a way to identify with his favored flock, the poor and the slaves, showing that even they and those like them can rise through Varya's will.

Motya has risen from those beginnings though and now being an ordained Inquisitor, wears the trappings of his office over the hap-shod armor pieces he tends to favor. Under the armor or when not wearing it, Motya wears the simple fur and cloth clothing of the lower caste of Varyan society with the monastic inquisitorial robe over those to denote his station. His armor is an amalgamation of steel, brass, clockwork, and leather that was cobbled together by a tinkerer at the Seminary, a gift after he was ordained. Heavy shoulder plates cover his shoulders, the right containing a bauble filled with earth from the mine he grew up in, a brass face guard chipped and pocked by weapons practice, leather gauntlets banded with razor edged steel strips, plated knuckles, and lined with small pistons, boots and greaves studded with steel posts and pointed edges, all wrapped in a tabard of supple black fabric trimmed in red and bearing the phoenix of Varyan priesthood.

Personality: Motya’s time as a slave has been the single largest shaping factor of his personality except his time at the Red Seminary. He is industrious and focused, almost bullishly so, always training or maintaining whatever skills he possesses. Above all he maintains a fervent and unshakable faith. For Motya, his faith and his connection with Varya is personal and not just theological, it was an inquisitorial priestess that saved him from the mines, elevated him from a life of slavery, and set him upon the path of serving, what he sees, as the greatest of Gods. While being serious about his faith Motya believes that all people should revel in the gift of life the God Varya provides, while it exists, in this harsh world. He is fond of food, drink, music, and women and good natured simplistic, often physical, competition. Motya is a man that sees every moment as a gift, either to be spent in prayer and religious study or, more appropriately, gregarious celebration, for him there is little middle ground between those two.

Despite his zealous faith and nearly hedonistic abandon Motya is a tempest defined when angered. His anger is quick to rise and quick to fade and terrible to behold, he thinks little of correcting a slight, real or perceived, with physical force. His bouts of rage, especially in the first years of his training were often rumored to be the thing that would see his time in the Red Seminary ended prematurely. His violent temper is something he struggles to maintain through faith and the companionship of his fellow Inquisitors.

Talents/Abilities: Motya is a brawler first and foremost, capable of reaping a devastating toll with just his hands, feet, and body. Most of the close physical combat disciplines taught at the Red Seminary came easily to Motya and he excelled in the lessons, despite the fact the many of the first lessons nearly killed him. The key to this talent is Motya’s ability to channel Ether within himself, lending his movements, strikes, and abilities an enhancement over natural physical abilities. His favored tactic is closing with an enemy, disarming them, and then pulverizing their resistance with physical blows or grappling, which ends up very bloody due to the nature of his armor. The cost for this is not only Motya’s reckless disregard for his own safety, something amplified when he channels the Ether but his comparative lack of refined social skills or mastery of the more academic subjects.

Background: Motya was born a slave, to a slave mother and father that he has never known; the name "Bratva" means slave born or slave brotherhood and is a generic family name of all slaves born in the mines. The Harayatva mine was his home for his infancy and early childhood and he was marked as a child of slaves before he was a year old. The Harayatva mines were run by a wealthy Varyan Industrialist who disbelieved in much of the new technology appearing and held to the idea of “breeding” a workforce. For years this idea was socially detestable but the wealth and influence of the Industrialist insulated him from open sanction of this practice. That was before Mother Oksana. Mother Oksana was a young Inquisition priestess that had been ordained only a few short years before and began her career by taking on the corrupt Industrialist. She preached that Varya would never condone the enslavement of children into a life of meaningless labor and toil when it could be these children that rise up to carry out his will in the future. Her message took hold with the low caste people and before long, soldiers were raiding the holdings of this Industrialist and freeing the people he enslaved, especially the children. Motya, then a child of seven, was delivered to the Red Seminary by Mother Oksana and was soon on the path to becoming an inquisitor. To this day when she returns to the Red Seminary she treats Motya as she would a son and Motya treats Mother Oksana like she were his actual mother and that bond between the two in nigh unshakable.

His time at the Seminary was brutal but when compared to what his life had been in the mines, it was his only chance. His courses in academia were a struggle and had it not been for some of his colleagues he would have never been ordained. On the bright side the punishing discipline enforced by the instructors for his academic failures only hardened his body and mind for what he excelled at, physical training. Motya found peace in the ceaseless combat drills which he took part in at every opportunity he could. Years spent training reinforced his faith, giving him the will and if necessary the physical ability to spread the faith and fight the enemies of the faith wherever they may be, something Motya is now eager to do.

Quote: “Do you think, because you are poor, obscure, plain and little, that you are soulless and heartless? No, you are the most divine of all subjects.”

Name: Mother Alina Alkaev
Age: 19
Height/Weight: 5'5 and 140lbs

Appearance:



A rather plain girl, the first thing people usually notice about Alina are her grey eyes that somehow resemble stained glass. Usually, it seems as if she's looking through someone instead of at them, making her seem distant. The girl has shoulder length black hair, with floppy bangs she keeps swiped to the side and tucked behind her ears. Sometimes the cold weather tempts her to grow her hair out, but she cuts it anyway, believing that the longer it is, the more likely it will hinder her in a fight. Alina has a lean and firm build, she's not soft or vulnerable looking, but is in no way intimidating either. In fact, the girl is just average, someone easily forgotten.

Alina has utmost respect for their uniform and whenever she is in uniform she tries to keep herself as presentable as possible out of respect, but it a rather daunting task considering all the snow and the fact that healers will get their hands dirty.

Personality:

First and foremost, Alina is calm, reliable, and maybe even apathetic. She does her responsibilities with determination and initiative, opting to finish what she can as quickly and as efficiently as possible. The young woman is a very dedicated person, often pushing herself to her limits in pursuit of perfection. If Alina thinks she can do better, she will try to do better. The girl refuses to give anything but her best and takes pride in her ability to notice minute details and mistakes. She has a good head on her shoulders and a thirst for knowledge. Often Alina learns from observation and imitation. When trying something new, she will repeat the same activity over and over again until she is either too tired to continue or finally satisfied with the results of her training.

Alina is rather harsh on herself. However, when it comes to dealing with her companions, she is the opposite. The girl expects them to give things their all, but is understanding and kind. Alina isn't very affectionate or the sort of person that radiates cheer and joy, but she's always willing to lend a helping hand, and always there to offer a shoulder to lean on. The young woman does her best to be a pillar of support during tough times. Often giving encouraging nudges or smiles when things look bleak. She isn't easy to faze, and has a strong grip on her emotions.

In the midst of battle Alina becomes a cold and apathetic healer, unflinching as she patches up the grizzly rips and tears in her companion's flesh, calm as she runs her fingers over the gash in her fellow priest's arm, and unyielding as she tries her darnedest to save lives. Alina takes her role of healer very seriously. It is a role that requires a level head, the ability to make split second decisions and the emotional stability that is needed in order to whisper words of comfort in a dying person's ear. Alina has grown numb to the sight of the dying, and makes it her job to ease their suffering, even just a little bit. She hates it when people suffer, which is why she'll do whatever she can to help keep them alive.

The girl buries her own fears and worries, becoming a pillar for those who need something to lean on. Sometimes she feels as if her emotions will eventually resurface to strangle her. Watching people take their last breaths has never been easy, but Alina copes for the sake of others.

Outside of missions, she lowers her walls. The apathy crumbles and Alina becomes less detached. The girl keeps to herself and can be a bit distant, but when approached she will never turn anyone away. The girl likes seeing people happy, and as a result finds herself drawn to cheerful optimists despite her reserved nature.
The frozen world needs all the warmth it can get after all, and she needs some of that warmth too.

Talents/Abilities:

She feels the energy draining from her fingertips as her hands press hard against the gash on her friend's side. Slowly, the torn muscles begin to mend, staunching the flow of crimson. Alina feels as if she's being electrocuted and her skin tingles. The girl lets out a huff, pouring more of her energy into her companion's wound. The flesh comes together, turning a blotchy pink, the blood ceasing completely.

Alina's talents lie not in weaponry or the sword, but in the art of healing. She works best as a supporter, but is a formidable foe when it comes down to hand to hand fighting. Alina's hands are deadly, and what she can heal she can also deconstruct. However, her specialty lies in healing people with her ether. Destroying muscle tissue or causing skin to tear takes a lot out of Alina and it's just painful and not a pretty sight, so she doesn't resort to it and has never really used it. In fact, realizing she could also cause suffering with her healing abilities was an accident and had happened when she was still rather inexperienced. Alina trained even harder at that and as a result she can keep the more dangerous aspects of her ability under control.
The girl isn't very strong, but she's swift and precise. When not healing her injured comrades, Alina is usually playing as bait, luring enemies away and distracting them before swiftly trying to knock them out. The girl is mediocre at most weapons, but does know how to fight hand to hand. As a healer, she has knowledge on the human anatomy and uses this to her advantage, often aiming for pressure points or weak spots in order to temporarily gain the upper hand on bigger foes. However, in battles that rely on brute strength Alina would be pretty much doomed.

Background:

The only daughter of a tinkerer and an apothecary. Alina's family was in no way rich, but they got by. Her dad made a variety of weird little doohickeys, ranging from portable heaters to toy trains of cogs and gears. More often than not his serious inventions would fail and fall apart. To be honest, Alina's father was more of a toy maker than an inventor. The children of Varya loved his wacky new ideas. In fact, the children would go out of their to visit her father when he wasn't busy. It only made Alina adore her dad even more.

The girl was always closer to her father, since he worked in the attic. Her mom on the other hand ran a small shop on the other side of town, selling homemade remedies and different kinds of herbs. Sometimes her mom would disappear for days, opting to stay at her aunt's house instead of taking the long walk back on chilly nights. Rarely did she spend time with her mother, but when they did spend time together it was always memorable for Alina.
Life was good to the girl and she was happy.

It didn't last though and one day her mother got sick. At first it was just coughing and few fevers, but the coughing grew into fits of hacking and soon the woman was spitting up blood. She always tried to shrug it off, but finally decided to visit a real doctor. None of her herbs had worked and she just kept getting worse and worse. The woman needed help, but that wasn't something the doctors were able to give her.

The doctors said it was tuberculosis and that they couldn't do a thing about it. Slowly, Alina's mom began to get worse and worse.

Her dad fell into depression and spent most of his days locked in the attic, tinkering with his mechanical trains and cogs. Alina on the other hand scavenged around the house for every medical book her mother had. Greedily, she read book after book. Absorbing new information in hopes of finding something that could help save her mother. The information within the books were far too great for a nine-year-old and soon she too began to lose hope. Alina spent most of days in the library, searching for something within the books labeled 'healing'.
That was where Alina met Mother Nadia.

The woman had a fondness for books and was usually at the library. Several times she had run into the distraught Alina, and the sad looking child had piqued Mother Nadia's curiosity. She began to question Alina, eventually learning more about the girl each time she came to the library. Alina never told the woman about her mother's sickness though and Mother Nadia never found out until one Thursday afternoon when the girl walked into the library sniffling and wiping away at tears. Mother Nadia coaxed the girl into telling her what was wrong and the nine-year-old cracked, revealing everything; from her mother's recent death to her father's descent into depression, Alina even including her failed attempts at dabbling in medicine.

Alina's father only got worse, his depression turning him into an unresponsive recluse. Alina always told Mother Nadia everything and one day the woman came to a solution. She asked the nine-year-old if she wanted to learn more about medicine and help people.The girl said yes.Mother Nadia then asked her if she wanted to go to the Red Seminary, stating that if she trained under the Holy Order she would be able to save lives.

Alina had nowhere else to go, so with a determined nod of the head, she agreed.

Name:
Maksimylian (Max or Maxi) Markov

Age:
22

Height:
6'5"

Weight:
278 lbs

Appearance:


The first thing people usually see about Max is his frame; standing at 6'5", with a robust yet toned physique give him the stereotypical build of a soldier. Of late he has taken to wearing his hair, the colour of a dark umber, longer than the picture above shows, if only to shelter his ears from the cold and the rough winds. The second thing they tend to notice is his eyes, deep set and as icy-blue as the frozen oceans that surrounded Varya. Aside from that there isn't anything else particularly unusual about him. As a younger boy he was mocked for the size of his nose - it showed good breeding, his mother had always said - but as he aged, he grew into it, developing a prominent brow line adorned with two thick, dark brows. Though he allows his hair to grow, he keeps any trace of facial hair well-groomed, as his father always told him that it "wasn't fitting for a man of the cloth to have all that untidy fluff on his face".

When not fully-clad in his inquisitorial garb Maxi prefers a tunic and tabard combination, with leather boots and gloves. Given the rough colds of course, while outside he adorns himself in furs. As well as this, he wears a rosary around his neck at all times; an heirloom given to him by his father, representing the everlasting faith of the Markov family.

Personality:
Max is a determined sort. He will strive to get a task done, although he will insist on getting it done the way he wishes. Some people have said he was "blinkered by his own arrogance", while others say it is a sign of a strong will and good leadership. Either way, it's the way he has always been, and "if it's got you this far, it can't be that bad now, can it?". Max is also very loyal to his faith. He has been tempted by other members of his order to follow a path that may have been "easier", but he is a firm believer that "nothing good comes easily", and so sticks by his faith and his duties, following them by the book; while others may deviate from the original plan to potentially get things done with less effort, Max prefers to do what his faith has guided him to do which is normally also what he has been ordered to do, no matter whether others see it as the right or wrong thing to do.

As a person, Maxi is hard to break into. With people he doesn't know so well he tends to act cold and indifferent, but when one gets to know him well enough, he is a loyal and warm friend. Max loves to read; whether it be fiction, history books, books on tactical warfare, swordplay, smithing or anything else, if you name a book, Maxi has probably read it. His bookishness has left him with a wealth of historical knowledge, and vast lexicon of stories to be told if ever he and some friends were say, sat around a fire with nothing to listen to but the wind rushing past their ears. It has also left him with a very acute tactical mind. Because of this, as well as his "get things done my way" attitude, many see him as a potential leader in the future. Max takes this praise humbly though, preferring to focus on the present.

Max is also very jumpy; something that his friends have often taken advantage of.

Talents/Abilities:
Being a 6'5", 278lb man has its advantages as far as fighting is concerned. Maxi favours blunt weapons, usually a morning-star. His swings have been known to decapitate a man. However, because of his strength, and the ease with which he can overpower most opponents, he is not the most cautious fighter, often overswinging and leaving himself open, only just managing to get his shield up at the last second. Since becoming an Inquisitor he has been more acutely trained though, so he is less prone to do it these days, but against a smaller, more technical fighter he may struggle.

Background:
Born in Varya, raised in Varya, to Varyan parents. A father that was an Inquisitor before him, and deeply religious mother made Maxi a stalwart follower of the eponymous deity. His parents had many friends from the church, some of them fanatical followers of Varya. This deeply patriotic and religious attitude that his parents passed down left Maxi a bit xenophobic. He would not immediately reject anyone who was not Varyan, but he was slower to warm to them. With many people from Muraad and Lanostre inhabiting Varya nowadays, his attitudes have softened somewhat, but he was always more comfortable with people of his own kind.

His father being an Inquisitor, many said he was destined to follow in his father's footsteps. He began the training at the Red Seminary with aplomb, excelling through both the physical and mental toils. As he grew, however, Maxi began to question the faith which had been forced upon him. He began to associate with less pious individuals, when his days training was complete, he would even go so far as to take part in underground fighting rings amongst boys his ages. One fateful night, due to his mammoth frame - standing at six foot at fourteen years old - he beat another boy to death in one of these fighting rings. Though he was horrified by his actions, it didn't stop him, and he continued to stray from the righteous path, until his father was struck down with flux. His father was a tall, powerful man himself, the illness tore through him as though he were frail and old. His mother too, from tending to his father was stricken with this disease. It was then that Maxi knew that this was his divine punishment. He sat as his mother's bedside day and night. He prayed to Varya ceaselessly. He vowed to devote his life, his body, his soul to Varya if he could find the mercy to forgive his sins and to let his mother live. She did, and from then on there was never a doubt in Max's mind.

Quote:
"A sinner saved a believer makes. For only when one sees Varya's terror can one truly feel his mercy."

[Name: Eldvanar Skölgrimm is his birth name but is more commonly known as Van the Frostborn
Age: 22
Height/Weight: 5’10’’ or 1.78 meters tall, 155 lbs or 70.3 kg.

Appearance: A wiry five foot ten inches, Van is short for the people of Muraad and has yet to fill out. He also doesn’t quite match the complexion and build of his nearest neighbors. He has unruly dark red-auburn hard, and slightly hooded ice blue eyes. They have a tendency to develop dark bags when sleep deprived. Van possesses an aquiline profile, with a slightly hooked nose and pointed chin with slow but full growing beard. Van has abnormally pointed canines, and an old white scar running along just under his left cheekbone. Slightly hooded eyes, with a frequent tendency to get dark bags under his eyes when more than slightly sleep deprived.
http://i.imgur.com/K3EmQEq.jpg

Van has long slender fingers, with significant calluses on knuckles pads, and palms. He has large heavily muscled forearms, dotted with molten metal burn scars from crafting, smithing and archery. Consequently, he has large heavily built shoulders despite his wiry frame and has a bite scar on upper left bicep from a wolf. Another bite scar is on his right thigh. There are several more scars from light slashes across his chest, back and stomach.

Following the old traditions of Muraad, male children are tattooed at a young age as a rite of passage to adult life. Usually done by the village head or another wise figure blessed by extraordinary sight, the tattoo is not only a representative of an adult but their path through life. Instead of the traditional age of twelve, Eldvanar was tattooed by his adopted father En Skøld at the age of 6. Despite the amount of growing left, Skøld was able to tattoo the young boy with such skill that only at full growth will all the images be revealed. The tattoo is an intricate blue and black geometric tattoo with assorted scenes embedded within it. The tattoo covers from the right bicep to left pectoral and shoulder blade, and from join of right shoulder to neck down to right hip.

Only three scenes are currently visible in the tattoo. The first is a serpent dragon fighting a giant wolf with a great hawk overhead waiting to strike on the right pectoral. The second is a ruined mountain top in the middle of lightning storm. Two giant figures, one of light from the store, and one of fire on the ruined mountain clash with a god of ice preparing for combat from a surrounding fjord. It is located on the side of the right shoulder on the deltoid. The last is still too small to be clearly seen, but appears to be a raging sea scene.

Personality: Van is bitter, haunted by past memories and ideologies, and broods frequently. He is ruthless and ambitious with a mercurial temper with a tendency to hold grudges. His revenge tends to be inventively brutal, and he prefers to permanently end threats. Van is usually arrogant and brash, and will be impulsive if his emotions are running hot. Van is independent, cynical and untrusting. He also is usually clever rather than wise. Past experiences has created a revulsion to drunkenness.

Van struggles with faith to Varya. Not only was he not raised to the faith of Varya, but the idea of god that is less than supreme with other equals causes problems. Nonetheless, the power demonstrated by Varya causes a conundrum. Van is extremely well-versed in scripture, given his training in memorization, and can debate cleverly. However, the doctrine and dogma mean nothing to him on a spiritual level, as dictates of men seem irrelevant with a living breathing god. Sometimes it can be a comforting routine, well it is normally a minor irritation for having to go through the motions.

Talents/Abilities:

Physical Abilities: While well versed in the theory of a wide variety of weapons, the only three he displays any talent in are the bow, the spear, and the rifle. While skilled in unarmed combat, his slight build and size reduce his capabilities to just better than average, and he is clumsy with a sword. Van excels in endurance. Not only do most bitterly cold environments cause no discomfort, he can hike and port far more than might be expected. The counterpoint is that he lacks a certain raw, explosive strength.

Magical Abilities: Another area was Van is skilled in theory and poor in practice. While he can comprehend most of abilities, he cannot consciously perform more than the minimum required basics. He continues to practice and improve, if very slowly. He possesses two magical skills that he uses unconsciously at times. The first seems to derive from gods, and is shaping and creation of ice. The energy taken away is transferred to Van. While somewhat addicting, it is both random and has stubbornly refused all conscious control.

Unending Vigor: Van’s sole well-performed magical skill has been performed from birth. He very efficiently converts ether into physical endurance and energy. It sustains and regenerates his body so as long as the initial wounds or a serious infection doesn’t kill him and he has a supply of energy or ether to draw on, he will eventually heal, and a rate between 10% and 20% faster than anyone else.

Background: Eldvanar Skölgrimm was found by his adopted father in the Ice Wastes as he prospected for lead sands and blood vine. The infant was found in swaddling clothes covered in frozen blood on a frozen slick of red ice. Despite what might have been a day of exposure in one of the harshest places on the continent, the young boy was still alive. Skøld scouted around the area for clues to his past, but other than generic traces of a fight and scavenging from animals. Had Skøld been of the Muraad, he would have left the boy alone in the wastes to die. Infants who survived the Wastes for more than a night were Frostborn, loved by the gods of ice with hearts just as cold. Skøld saw the boy’s fringe of red hair and took it as portents to other things, and retrieved the boy to live with him for his own ends.

Old En Skøld was a foreigner to the small rural town of Arvska, home of a well-known but small crystal works. The one-eyed gray haired man had arrived five years earlier and had quickly and quietly made himself indispensable as a tinker, a craftsman, a smith, and a tattoo artist. Brilliant but mad, old Skøld was a master with his long clever fingers and fever-bright eyes that could clearly see into the heart of things. Prone to uttering heresy when drunk, bringing home a cursed infant did little to change their opinion of the man. Too rural to be able to afford to get rid of the probable T’saraen and his vital skills and inventions, they settled for a grudging respect, a subdued hate and fearful awe.

Skøld couldn’t care less, hiring a prostitute to take care of the boy he named Eldvanar for a year during the day and provide him enough milk until he could be weaned. During the intervening time, he continued to prospect and eventually found a new source of lead for the crystal works. The deposit revitalized the works and made the old man rich enough to continue with his experiments, with his percentage of earnings supplemented with the occasional bloodvine harvest. The color made from a brilliant red dye preferred by the church, the sap a powerful and controlled narcotic, and the fiber tough and insulating fabric. After the first year, Skøld took the young boy everywhere with him, and when he turned four, Skøld began expecting the young boy to begin learning and punishing him for failure. The beatings were the most severe for failing to remember the Skøld’s tales of gods and religion, like the man with fire for eyes, or the one-handed fighter with a sword for justice. The latter was in strict contrast to the old man’s bitter words and the back of his hand for failure.

Once Van could memorize a new tale a day, Skøld began his tattoo. Unlike the work of the rest of the Muraad had to reveal their heart’s truth, Van’s was to form a truth and a path. Beginning when Van was six years old until he was eight, the intricate working was Skøld’s masterpiece. At the time, the detailed scenes were not yet visible, and the completion represented the height of Van’s belief in the harsh old man. It also marked the beginning of some independence for the young boy. Allowed to visit the town, Van was not only ridiculed, but also beaten by some of the village boys. While Skøld began training the boy to fight, the doubt began to creep into Van’s mind. To the young boy, even Skøld’s harsh training and burgeoning skills couldn’t armor him from the attitudes and ideas of the villagers.

As the questioning began, the beatings grew worse. Skøld began to drink more and his work began to slip more, exacerbating the issue. As Van began to take over more the duties, crafting and hunting, Van lost faith in old Skøld. Even the spear training, of which the old man had peerless skill, was another excuse to break Van’s will and mold him into the mad dreams of the heretic. The grand ambitions to steal all the ether from the gods, tame the raging ice storms in the same way, and create gods out of men lost their appeal. If Skøld’s dreams of gods solely for humanity existed at all, why the world was covered in ice and only fractured gods of the titan of ice remaining? What proof was there for a titan of fire, and how could Skøld rekindle his essence at all? Other inconsistencies widened the cracks, and Skøld’s permission for solo hunting missions gave time for the young boy to brood sullenly. The final straw came when Skøld came home barely coherent from booze after a poor visitation to a local prostitute and began beating the boy in a black rage. Van was beaten so badly he couldn’t move for days, and in the coherent periods between the hazy periods of pain, he decide to run away. It took him six months to gather all the materials, craft the necessary goods, and cache it all away from the increasingly brutal and suspicious old man.

Van ran away at twelve during the waning of a brutal blizzard. Half his caches were lost but the stubborn youth refused to concede defeat. During the next three months he trekked towards what he thought was a large town to sell his skills. Unfortunately, his cartography was poor in comparison to his survival skills and become hopelessly lost. Half-starving, Van made the mistake straying into the expanding territory of a dire wolf pack. Luckily, the pack had also drawn the ire of the local monastery and a party of inquisitors were sent out to quell the threat. Drawn by the noise of Van defending himself, they rescued the boy from being savaged by a wounded wolf, with two dead pack members not far off.

The head of the party, Father Tovio Rolvson ordered to the boy to be treated and held at their camp for investigation. In a simple test of endurance to the cold, the simple brutal father ordered the bandaged youth exposed to the elements for the night to have Varya judge him for trespassing on their lord’s lands, even inadvertently. It would also conveniently save on paperwork if the boy died, as they could just report finding the youth frozen. Proving the Muraad legend true once again, Van managed to hang on through a mild storm with no more than a few minor cases frostbite. Father Tovio considered the sign versus the commensurate paper work and deemed that if truly was frostborn and loved by the gods, Varya would keep him alive through the rest of the hunt. Tovio outlined his plan simply, if Van managed to survive the hunt while essentially being bait, Tovio would overlook his offense, treat him, and would foster him.

Van soon realized that he had traded his old master for an even more brutal one. While he managed to barely survive the hunt, the brief three month stint at the monastery was less than pleasant. Food was still low, and Van was fed barely enough to survive in the icy halls. They worked him mercilessly doing scut work and instructing him for half a year in the tenets of Varya. Despite his extremely deficient starting point, the memorization ability drilled into Van by Skøld allowed him to catch up with ease. Soon Father Tovio decided to both ease his logistics concerns and garner points for a talented disciple and sent Van off to the Red Seminary.

Already inured to brutal conditions, the physical and mental training of the seminary was less of an issue to him with a few exceptions. Weak in the classical grounding most candidates imbibed from their families, Van struggled to initially excel. Similarly, his slight build and late growth spurt made training in most weapons painful, and Van concentrated on archery, the spear and the rifle in comparison to all else. The most difficult aspect of the seminary was neither of these things, but rather the social interaction and arts required to fit in. Frequent clashes with bullies, a tendency towards sullen brooding and a crippling issue with trust cause Van to struggle with making comrades. The few he does possess he defends with ruthless vigor.

Quote: Knowledge without power is useless. Power without knowledge is wasted. The only man to fear is one who possesses both.

Name: Ottilie Rosendorn

Age: 20

Height/Weight: 5’4” and 137lb

Appearance:


Having been born into a noble family where keeping up appearances is one of the most important things to be aware of, Ottilie has been constantly reminded to take care of her looks. Therefore, no matter what circumstances she is in she will always attempt to keep her silky platinum blonde hair neatly combed and plaited tightly, and her clothes neat and unwrinkled. It is a difficult task, especially when travelling or training, but a multitude of hairpins and sewing supplies kept perpetually on her self aids in that task. Kind amber eyes coupled with the gentle smile usually present on her face brings a sense of warmth in an otherwise frozen land.

Don’t be fooled by her rather harmless appearance- harsh training as an Inquisitor has allowed her to gain a lithe and powerful body, capable of hard heavy hits. It is littered with countless small pale scars, none of which are particularly eye catching.

Ottilie takes great pride in the Inquisitor coat, for it represents both her capability as a person and identity as a member of the Priesthood. It is the article of clothing she takes most care of by patching up any rips or fraying seams, and if anyone is to sully it on purpose they would most certainly be on the receiving end of her rage. Underneath the coat are a simple cotton blouse and a pair of sturdy but warm pants, both durable and easy to clean. Accessories include a small but well-crafted hair pin emblazoned with the crest of her house as well as two simple rings on the middle finger of each hand, which serve as focus points for her ability.

Personality: Ottilie is quite the prideful woman. Not necessarily as in the haughty and better-than-thou context, but more pride of who she is and her abilities. She is proud of her noble family name and her having become an Inquisitor, and because of this pride she is fiercely loyal and will always work her hardest to represent both her house and what she thinks of as her extended family in the best ways possible. This pride does not stop her from aiding her friends- in fact, she takes great joy in helping others with anything they might need an extra hand in. She likes to think of herself as someone easy to approach, and tries her best to balance graceful dignity and warm-hearted enthusiasm as to support her team wholeheartedly.

This loyalty, coupled with her strong sense of protectiveness of her extended family makes her the regular mother hen of the group. At the end of the day she always ends up fretting over the smallest of things; from making sure everyone’s got enough to eat to attempting to patching up holes in clothing (perhaps even when said article of clothing is still being worn), she’ll be flitting to and fro in order to make sure everyone is in tip-top condition. She means well, but some do get annoyed by this behaviour as being overly fussy and trivial compared to other matters at hand.

Her perfectionistic ways also mean that she’s very against taking risks. Rather pessimistic by nature, Ottilie will usually assume the worst and become agitated if things don’t go the way they were planned. Risks are a road to possible failure, and while she understands that failures are impossible to avoid completely she would rather take the safe route than jeopardizing safety or sullying the names so dear to her.

Talents/Abilities: Ottilie’s ability is the physical materialization of ether. Usually it is an intangible substance that protects the body from the bitter cold of the world, but in this case Ottilie is able to manifest the ether into a tangible material. It becomes a translucent, glowing substance that can be molded into armor and weapons. Since Ottilie is still inexperienced with this power she needs the help of the two rings on each of her hands to act as a focus point to materialize the ether around her hands in the shape of simple gauntlets and armor that extend up to her shoulders. As a fighter who prefers hand to hand combat, the gauntlets act both as a power booster for her punches and as a way of blocking blows without heavy armor weighing her down.

Background: Born as the third child in a high ranking noble family, Ottilie had an easy and carefree first few years in the household. During this period, her parents scrutinized her carefully, unsure of how they should put their youngest child to use in improving the family name. Their oldest son would inherit the family name and manage the estate, while their second daughter was engaged to a man of high standing as to increase the family influence. They could potentially marry off Ottilie as well, but arranged marriages were rather tricky things with finding a suitable husband and all the dowries to be discussed. The idea hit them one day while watching the young child romp around in the nursery. Why not send her to join the priesthood? Members of the clergy are highly respected members of society, and to have a family member as one of them would no doubt raise their family standing.

Of course, if Ottilie was to join the priesthood she would have to be in nothing less than the top tiers, so plans were made to send her off to the Red Seminary. They knew the training was tough and it was possible that the girl may not even survive- but it was for the good of the household name and therefore worth it. Tutors were hired immediately to prepare the very young child for what was to come. When the time came to ship her off, the girl was well versed in the basics of strategy, magic, and etiquette, and her parents were sure she would be well prepared for what was to come.

Life at the Red Seminary was harsh, and many times Ottilie wrote home begging her parents to take her home, only to be told that she must persevere and bring honor to her family. It wasn’t the academics she could not keep up with, but rather the combat aspect of the training. Physical labor was never required at home and therefore she could barely even lift the lightest of swords so swinging one around was nigh impossible. She focused on hand to hand combat instead but her punches were weak and during the first few years she always lagged behind during sparring sessions, more often dodging and running from her opponent than landing futile hits. How she survived the first few years was much attributed to the speed she was forced to attain and pure dumb luck. It was not until her ability in materializing ether manifested until she was able to start improving the effectiveness of her physical attacks, and coupled with her agility made her a fast but heavy hitter.

Quote: I will do my best to stay in top condition to represent the Inquisitors as an elite group, one which people can look up to and respect. You, as a fellow representative, need to keep an impeccable appearance as well, so please just stay still and let me mend your shirt!

Name: “Mother” Kassandra Xenos

Age: 21

Height/Weight: 5’6, 142 lbs

Appearance: Kassandra has a rather sharp build to her. Her hair has always been short to maintain her modesty as well as practicality. It is smooth and has a silvered tinge to it – a trait she received from her mother’s side of the family. She covers herself as well, even when not in uniform, she dresses in clothing very similar to the common apparel of a priest. Her weight is distributed as lean muscle throughout her body, but she isn’t a brute by any means, relying more on speed than pure strength. Her hazel eyes are soft and her cheeks are rather flush when compared to her lighter skin and hair.

Note: I couldn’t really find a “real” image to use and I really wanted to avoid using a picture with modern clothing.


Personality: Kassandra has a sharp tongue and a cold attitude, or at least that’s the impression she gives to most. Those who she actually shares a bond with, like quite a few of her fellow priests/priestesses, know that she is loyal and even, to some degree, caring. However, when in battle, focused on a mission, or around those she is not very familiar with, her cold, calculating attitude returns. Despite her slightly below-average height, she is confident and protective, despite being quiet in unfamiliar situations.

Kassandra wasn’t an ambitious youth, nor would one consider her to be as such while an adult. However, due to her circumstances, she has never shirked on her duty and strives to be the absolute best at whatever she is tasked with. Of course, this is still not to be confused with ambition – her entire life has been spent with having this idea of being the best drilled into her. Kassandra did not have a natural desire to climb the ladder of success, it was merely that her entire life has revolved around being the most respected, strongest figure she could be.

The priestess uses her faith and focus to avoid confronting any conflicts within herself that may go against her beliefs… Not only the temptations of drink or other pleasures, but those desires buried even deeper. By focusing on her work, she will never have to face the fear she holds – the fear of those desires being true. She’s found herself never able to connect beyond friendship with any man… And only has she felt attraction toward other women; these thoughts are the ones that she buries the deepest in her soul, locking them away so that not even she knows of them.

Talents/Abilities: Mother Xenos, like the others who have been accepted into priesthood, has become rather experienced in combat. Her own specialty lies in a falchion, which she wield in her right hand and keeps strapped to her back and, upon her left hand, a lightweight cestus of metal with small spiked plates near the knuckles. With the cestus, she wears a bracer that is a little on the heavier side, when compared to the common armour of the other priests, in order to help deflect and block attacks without the need for a shield, though it does lack the strength and durability of one.

On the magic side, Kassandra was slightly less blessed – she found difficulty in grasping the concepts she was taught and, while she tried her best, only managed to gain power over the most basic of abilities in the field. She has found, however, that her reflexes have a nearly sixth-sense feel to them, which is actually why she chose a falchion and cestus combination for her weaponry – a pair that is very rarely seen. It was also the reason she chose the bracer over a shield.

Background: Kassandra was never able to meet her biological mother. Her father rarely spoke of it before his own death, and her family is always very quiet whenever she would ask. However, the very little information she was able to collect told her that when she was young, her mother was actually kidnapped while alone in a nearby city and sold into human trafficking for a high price. Being of a lower noble family in La Nostre, as well as being rather attractive, she fetched a high price. The family, while esteemed in their small area, was not well-known throughout La Nostre and they were unable to pool the resources to look into what happened or retrieve her… It is likely that, by now, her body has been worn down into a laboring slave.

Mr. Xenos, Kassandra’s father, passed when she was young as well, but she was almost ten, so she can still clearly remember the man… He was kind and always warm-hearted. However, her memory does not serve her well always; there were nights where he would come home and not even acknowledge her presence… He smelled of spirits and would saunter to his study, lock the door, and not come out for hours… sometimes he would spend nearly two whole days in that room – coming out for perhaps a meal or two, or to search the cupboards for a fresh bottle. He never hit her, but Kassandra remembers having to care for herself on those days. He died in that office of what was later considered as some form of alcoholic overdose.

Life after that was much sterner, and Kassandra changed completely. She moved in with her grandmother and aunt. While her grandmother, Megaera, was not always capable of caring for herself and Kassandra’s aunt would help her, it seemed that the elderly woman held some form of disdain for her own daughter. Kassandra did not understand, but assumed it was because her aunt did not marry, despite being a grown woman. After Megaera’s death, Kassandra noticed that one of her aunt’s friends seemed to come to the house far more often, though perhaps it was just to help care for the young girl.

Her entire family had been instilling patriotism for La Nostre and the goddess that once guided them all… Even when she was young, she was resilient and steadfast in her own opinions, which were molded by her family, and her affinity for physical battle, she believes, comes from her devotion to that goddess. Of course, because of the time that had passed, no matter how short, it was undeniable that Varyan society had mixed with that of La Nostre, and so she still believed in the strength of Lord Varya.

It was more her aunt’s decision for her to go to the Red Seminary, but she was also told of the glory and the strength of character that came with becoming a priestess… Though Kassandra never told her aunt about the thoughts that had slowly been becoming part of her mind, she honestly believed that by becoming a priestess, she would be cleansed and could find herself… “fix” that part that she so desperately fought and locked away. Besides that,she knew that by becoming stronger, she would never be cursed with the fate that her mother was… The harder she worked, the farther she went, the stronger she became… All of these things would protect her, and more importantly, those around her… She couldn’t let somebody else be taken due to their own weakness. This was a burden she brought on herself after her mother’s death; her father’s passing as well, when he gave in to the temptations of alcohol and wallowing in his own depression; and finally, her grandmother, a bitter old woman who passed full of regrets which she could never express as well as a disdain for her daughter which, ultimately, caused the woman to stop taking such close care of her… All fates that were caused by weakness and which she had been powerless to stop. Never again would the priestess feel so weak and unable to control that which tore her family apart.

Quote: Weakness lies not in the mind, but in the soul. In order to crush it, you have to strengthen every part of your being.

"Inviksiya Victoceo", the Varyan “Red Seminary”

The name is a bastard’s conglomeration of Russian and dog Latin syllables translated, very roughly, into “finding faith through instruction & victory.” Phonetically “In-vik-C-ah Vik-toe-C-oh”

Genesis

The notorious Varyan Inviksiya Victoceo, known to most as the Red Seminary, was founded with the mantra “through knowledge comes strength. The Red Seminary has its blooded and black roots deep in Varyan culture and history, reaching back two hundred years to the Continental Schism Wars and its monolithic foundations were built upon black secrets and ruins that date back to even darker ages. Two-hundred years ago the nation of Varya, righteous in its strength, will, and might, launched a massive assault on the God-Kings of T’sarae, Omestris, and Muraad. Most prayed for a quick victory but neglected to consider the brutality a quick victory requires. The war was swift, desperate, and bloody beyond recollection. The people of the Ravenous Lord swept into the neighboring territories and laid all resistance, no matter how defiant, to waste. Where the armies of Varya marched the carrion flocks followed, a blizzard of black feathers descending on the corpses of the fallen armies and pecking their pound of flesh before it froze solid. By war’s end the God-Kings were brought back to Varya and imprisoned in the capital city, destined to be consumed slowly by Lord Varya and his arcane machines; machines that were discovered at the site of what is now the Red Seminary.

The Bloody Foundation is Set

During the savage campaigns against the lands of Omestris a group of Varyan historians, scientists, and priests discovered a set of ruins cut deep into the cliffs of a cavernous ravine and took shelter there during a particularly brutal storm. These men and women were some of the brightest and most talented operatives during the Varyan Schism War campaigns, sent ahead of the main force to scout the opposition. These heroes of the Schism War were renowned for spying ahead and discovering weaknesses in the enemy’s lines, each operator able to discover various exploitative conditions that enabled the Varyan forces to combat the enemy. As the operatives pressed into Omestri territory they discovered a cancer within the people, or so the Varyan history books say. The people of Omestris, as all good followers of Varya have come to know, were and are dabblers in the darkest of human desires. It is said by the historians that the Omestri found joy in the enslavement and torture of others and were sadistic in the extreme. The chronicles of the Schism War, found in every Varyan Library and School, recount tales of fields of mutilated corpses leading to their capital city and unparalleled decadence practiced by the people. They were a hedonistic and depraved people dabbling in all manner of conceivable pleasure, pain, delight, and anguish and it was in the depths of the ruins, high in the mountains of Omestris that the Varyan expedition found out just how deep the luscious depravity ran in Omestri culture.

Down in the deepest, darkest depths of those ruins far below the edge of the ravine, dug into the heart of the mountains the team found, twisted and diabolical machinery fused into the very core of the mountain. The inner workings of this machine looked older than anything known to civilization but it had appeared that the people of Omestris had built upon it, expanding it, and turning it to their most unholy and debased desires. As the expedition explored this machinery with great fervor, ignorant of its purpose, the Ether in their bodies began to power the monstrosity, feeding it, and fueling in it a desire for more. It was a slow drain at first and the Varyan team did not take precautions and by the time they understood some of what was happening to them, it was far… far too late. What followed was a descent into lust, murder, experimentation, and madness that no one today could comprehend. The machine seemed possessed of its own highly intelligent and devious mind, to the point of obsession, as it began to work instilling a black desire in the expedition team to revel in the physical and emotional pain of others. In reality it was feeding upon the Ether residue of suffering, in those hellish depths the machine ripped away Ether from their bodies, recycled it through arcane mechanisms, amplified it exponentially, and feed it back to the husks, reanimating the people of the expedition after their depredations would end their lives. Each time they rose anew, they were more powerful but more fearful, more ravenous, more desperate to satiate the appetites of their corrupted flesh and twisted minds. They fell upon each other, visiting every manner of depravity upon one other before being annihilated by the machine’s feeding then revived again to repeat the cycle... each time the machine leaving one more expedition member dead, funneling their power and madness into the remaining "living" souls.

No record exists outside of the Red Seminaries deepest most secure black vaults of what those men and women found in the ruins, of how it corrupted them, of how the machine worked and what it ultimately accomplished. Only the Inner Circle of the Inquisition knows the truth of the machines power and purpose and those secrets are locked in the Seminaries deep dungeons and labyrinthine catacombs.

When the main body of Varyan forces arrived at the ruins they found all but one expedition member dead. The sole survivor was calm amongst his dead comrades, he spoke vaguely of trails, traps, wildlife, and demons in the depths of the ruins but any man with eyes could see the truth etched in the frozen faces and tortured flesh of the victims. Horrors and depravities had been visited upon these men and women that the soldiers dared not think of and when pressed to answer the sole survivor jabbered on and rabidly prevented any soldier from entering the ruins. As the troops camped for the night rumors spread, anger flared, and a mob attempted to lynch the sole survivor for his crimes against his fellow countrymen. Set to hang the survivor hurled curses and obscenities to the mob raving about his purpose and his immortality and at the last moment, it seemed he was right. The High Priestess of Varya herself arrived and pardoned the man, though she was not scheduled to be so close to the front lines. Together they plunged into the depths of the ruins never to be seen again. The army moved on as armies do, Omestris was conquered, and history was written, absent the events at the ruins. The only public record of the event stating that the valiant Varyan expedition gave their lives in an effort to end Omestri perversions.

The Varyan Citadel of Death Rises From the Ruins of Omestri

Shortly after the Schism Wars settled down and the Empire was unified work began on restoring the ruins that had been found by the lost expedition team. First Hordes of slaves, mostly Omestri, were escorted by a newly established Conclave of Varyan priests, dedicated to purging the impurities of conquered people through labor and faith, deep into the ruins. Parts of the diabolical machine that only the most secretive of this new Conclave understood were dismantled and taken to the capital city, at a great cost of slave and tinkerer life, in order to construct the apparatus that binds the God-Kings to Varyan now. With this horrendous task completed armies of soldiers were replaced by armies of masons, carpenters, laborers, miners, architects, and tradesmen. They swarmed to the site of the ruins and began construction on a monument that was to be like no other. Some did it out of a need for work, many out of a sense of pride, a good number were slaves, and all worked, lived, and died under the rising shadow of the Seminary. No record exists of who, specifically, commissioned the work, no dealings were officially recorded, and any inquiry was met with a web of confused orders and convoluted plans that never pointed anywhere. People knew the individual parts they played and the individual pieces they built but no one seemed to know the big picture... yet still the Seminary wall rose in record time. The most extensive archivist documenting the raising of this Varyan monument in what was Omestri land ended his final work on the topic; it consisted of eighteen volumes, with the statement…

“Perhaps it is Lord Varya himself that has commissioned this structure, only the mind of a God could fathom the goings on here!”
~Senior Archivist Nikolev Bravkiea, Chronicler of the Grand Varyan Seminary

It should be noted that shortly after completing his grand and voluminous work, the Archivist disappeared, all copies of his work vanishing from common circulation without a trace or a blip in the history books. It was rumored he had come close to plumbing the depths of not only the Seminary’s construction but what lay beneath and though he had the good sense not to publish it he was still a threat to the fledgling Seminary and so vanished.

Construction continued without pause no matter the season, condition, or time and before long a great Seminary, part fortress, part monument, part cathedral, and completely secretive, menacing and mysterious was built. Raised in a record amount of time the Seminary's skillful architecture was only eclipsed by the great toll in life that earned the Red Seminary its name early. Not only is it called the Red Seminary because of the inquisitorial hopefuls, the students who bleed and die in an effort to be ordained Inquisitors but also because so many workers gave their lives in its construction, staining its walls red with their blood. It is said that one in every three workers died building the structure and that a generation after its completion, no worker was left alive to speak of its construction, all having died or vanished. Stories of unexplained disappearances, grizzly accidents, incomprehensible crimes committed by workers, and episodes of rampant violence litter the history of the Seminary’s construction; those stories now known in full truth, to none but the Inner Circle.

To explore the completed Seminary is an honor few save the Inquisition have ever been granted. The approach to the canyon upon which it is built is a jagged waste of rock and fallow land, howling winds, and deadly beasts but for those that endure and survive the trip the Red Seminary, in all its grandeur, awaits. An area of land was blasted flat and cleared of obstruction in order to house the workers during construction. Today this is “the great approach” to the Seminary, the area around its walls cleared for hundreds of meters, often by students during training sessions. This cleared area often teems with students families, waiting the few times they may see their children during a year, along with merchants, traders, and workers that all provide support to the Seminary. The building itself is a monolithic block of a structure, a mass of deep crimson stone and blackened iron, weathered brass and worn steel. Elegant arches and buttress line the outer walls, tower like extensions rise up half as tall as the walls, set at regular intervals and larger multi-tiered towers, composed of archways, observation platforms, and entrance gates guard each corner. Front and center as anyone approaches the Seminary is the grand training coliseum, its towering pillars supporting a golden dome high above. Grand ramps and stairways flank the coliseum’s entrance on the lower level, each long curving ramp facilitating trade, supplies, and people for the Seminary’s purposes. Once inside one realizes that the vast interior of the Seminary, enclosed by its large building like walls is mostly open to the sky. The front contains the training coliseum and to the very rear is the Sanctuary, between this, built around an open courtyard and into the expansive Seminary walls are the various workshops, training buildings, foundries, smiths, markets and cook-shops. This small town square like place is populated with the various lower level workers, artisans, and tinkerers that keep the Seminary in working order.

No one person save the Inner Circle has free run of the entire Seminary at any one time and it is rumored that areas go completely unused in the Seminary save when the Circle deems fit. Four Great halls for vigils, studies, and lessons make up the majority of each of the four walls that enclose the Seminary. The rear of the structure is comprised of a chapel that is second only in greatness to Lord Varyan’s in Magnagrad. The chapel consists of a sanctuary and spire that is topped with an image of the God, twin towers to the left and right consistently bathing the statue in an ethereal glow from arcane machinery. In addition to the great halls the arched marble wings that run along the length of the Seminary contain barracks that open to the training grounds and town square that are enclosed between the chapel vigil halls, coliseum, and Sanctuary.

The three awe inspiring towers of the Sanctuary, one topped with the image of Varya himself reach for the sky and are off limits to students. The rumors abound as to what happens high above the mass of the Seminary proper, many whisper of the Inner Circle and dark experiments, secret vaults, and imprisoned villains or legends. Only the Inner Circle and Elite Inquisitors know the truth of what goes on in the towers above the Seminary. Far below the towers, ripped open from canyon itself the Seminary delves deep into the earth. Secret vaults, caves, and entire archives exist below the ground level. Tinkerers toil away in workshops piped with Ether and steam while deeper chambers hold training labyrinths and of course ancient and terrible secrets.




Roots of Primacy

Even before the monoliths completion select groups of men and women were drawn to the fledgling Seminary as it was constructed. Top military minds from all over, members from soldiers possessed of great survivability and battle prowess to Commanding Generals famed for their tactics, Priests of all inclinations and apparent capabilities, and those gifted with control of Ether in many ways, shapes, and forms were all summoned, drawn, or ordered to the Red Seminary. After these masterful minds were gathered the first recruitment began. What piqued the curiosity, interest, and horror of the populace is that recruitment did not go after the finest military fighters or the holiest of priests but for young boys and girls. Hundreds of them, all between the ages of eight and twelve, were gathered by the military... some from enslaved populations, others were volunteered by noble families and anything walk of life in between. Once the youths arrived at the Seminary and the gates closed behind them they were never seen again. Unlike today were dead applicants are returned to families (sometimes) or failed living applicants are reassigned to other priestly orders, not one of the original class was ever seen again, except those that were ordained. The masters of the Varyan world began to work on the children, together within the Seminary, and on projects none outside seemed to fully comprehend. As this secretive training continued rumors of treachery spread and suspected rebellions flared up within the newly formed Varyan Empire.

As time progressed the scientists, tinkers , Ether wielders, and engineers modified what machinery was left in the bowls of the Seminary harnessing the power that the diabolical contraption possessed. Using the machine on the youths, in what has become known as the Ravenous Trail, through countless deadly experiments, and brutal training regimes the Order of Inquisitors began to come to life within the Red Seminary. Twelve years after the first group of two-hundred youths entered the Seminary nineteen emerged, ordained by the Varyan Imperial Priesthood with a new title and near limitless authority, Inquisitors. Those nineteen Inquisitors, crafted over one-hundred and eighty years ago, were the first to be ordained. Known today as the Primacy they are revered at the Seminary as legends, grand statues of them line chapels, relics of their bodies, gear, and exploits fill vaults, and it is said their spirits still walk the halls.

They, the Primacy, strode out from the Red Seminary and into a Varyan Empire that was about to explode into rebellion. Over the course of the next three decades talk of rebellion ceased, some were talked down, reasoned with, and negotiated with by the Inquisition others were annihilated, whole family lines snuffed from existence for the mere mention of treason. Each Inquisitor had full liberty and complete authority to handle each situation as they wished as long as the job was done. Through the actions of the Primacy Varya was now at peace. Though the Primacy is revered by Varyan people today, specifically by Inquisitors, part of their true mission was not so noble or illustrious. Through the actions of the Primacy the Omestri people, by and large, were vilified, enslaved, and committed to a life where they are nothing more than a fuel source for the Varyan Empire. Omestri slaves if given the chance or ability to speak would tell you how their people were once happy, loved life, indulged in all it had to offer in good nature and faith but were not the depraved sociopathic tortures and debased hedonists of Varyan history. The Inquisition put an end to that though and the true story, the righteousness of either side is unknown and dependent on whose history you believe. With the perceived success of the Primacy, recruitment began in earnest and the Red Seminary became a hub of Varyan priestly service. The training was beyond brutal though and not all who aspired would succeed, just as the Inner Circle intended.

The Inner Circle

Today the Seminary is governed, as it was two-hundred years ago, by the Inner Circle. The Inner Circle is composed of nine members, men and women, who oversee training, pass judgment during matters of importance, determine who is to be ordained, and to what mission Inquisitors are assigned once ordained. The Inner Circle is a shadowy organization, steeped in myth, secrecy, ritual, tradition, and rumor. The Circle is presided over by the Grand Master. This being is hardly ever seen by any but the Inner Circle and even then it is rare and the Master is always cloaked in shadow and robe, indistinguishable in all but voice. The Circle has evolved into the most important clandestine organization within the Varyan Priesthood a powerful force both politically and religiously, guarding the innumerable secrets of the Red Seminary and Varyan Empire. The judgments of the Inner Circle are fluid and once laid down, incontrovertible, their say is final within the Red Seminary and within almost all aspects of Varyan life.

To become a member of the Inner Circle, one must have served within the Inquisition and only upon their ascension to the elite and secretive forces of the Inquisitorial service will they begin to learn the truth of their organizations past and secrets. However, even after climbing to the elite units, there remain circles within circles and levels within levels, with each step accompanied by its own rituals of entry. Rising through the intricate ranks of the Inquisition, then of elite forces, and finally of the Inner Circle, an Inquisitor will learn more and more of the truth of the organizations history, each secret revealed as the Inner Circle's trust in them grows. For their part the Inner Circle sees to it that not many reach the lofty heights to replace their ranks, in part ensuring their power but also weeding out thousands of applicants through torturous training.

What it Means to be Trained as an Inquisitor

The Trial
Many hundreds of people offer up their children willingly for the Red Seminary’s program every year, hoping their child will become the next ordained Inquisitor, bringing their family wealth, power, and notoriety. In addition to this it is the sole purpose of an ordained Conclave of Inquisitors, called the Seraphs, to seek out those children best suited to become Inquisitors. Recruits chosen by the Seraphs are always admitted to the Seminary, although the recruitment process and what constitutes the Seraphs standards varies considerably between Inquisitors. The only rule the Seraphs operate by is that between all of them they choose no more than twenty-five of the potential two-hundred future students but those chosen twenty-five will be guaranteed a spot. All other applicants are screened by the Seminary’s Inner Circle, each member evaluating the applicants until a final class of two-hundred students is reached. Thousands upon thousands apply every year so the selected few are a small crowd. They are all recruited at young ages, typically no older than twelve and no younger than eight and once selected for training they will all be isolated from their families for the majority of the time except for a three month period every year beginning in the third year. After selection the children are designated "Initiates" and the first year of their training begins that very day. Outside the walls of the Seminary in the brutal and biting cold the mass of 200 children are stripped of anything that connects them to their past. Clothing is replaced with the dull gray sackcloth robes and blank white tabards of the Initiates, personal items are cast into the abyssal ravine the Seminary is built over and all traces of their former lives are removed.

At this point and for the next two years the instructors will have to take children from every walk of life and shape them into Inquisitors. The Seminary forces the Initiate, over these first two years, to disregard what made them rich, poor, slave, noble, cared for or abused and baselines each student with the dedication, devotion, and warrior ethos needed to succeed in the Seminary. After the trappings of their former lives are tossed away they are led into the Seminary’s Coliseum where a member of the Inner Circle addresses them, telling them what it is they are about to become a part of, of the importance of their duties and tasks, and of the infallible nature of their future instructors and of the Inquisition. When this speech is completed the Initiates are broken down into groups of ten and led deep into the maze like sub-levels of the Red Seminary and subjected to something called the Ravenous Trial. There is no turning back from this point, no student can quit. Only instructors can fail students who are then reassigned to either maintenance or upkeep duties at the Seminary, for the terms of their twelve year stay, or other areas of Priestly orders where they can still serve Varya.

Initiates are led deep into the bowels of the Red Seminary, they are blindfolded and led in a twisting, ever changing pattern through countless doors, passages, and caverns and by the time they arrive not even the best tracker could remember the way free. Each group of ten students is instructed to enter a vigil chamber lined with brass mechanisms and ocular lenses. All around this round chamber are doors leading to individual rooms that each student is placed in. There is nothing to these rooms except at the far end of the spartan chamber there is a trench into the abyssal canyon below the Seminary, the floor slightly slanted towards it, slick with condensation. Here the students are told to engage in prayer, locked away, and not spoken to for two days. Some pray, some cry out, some endeavor to escape, others fall asleep and fall into the trench below but most survive the first two days. Throughout this week of the Initiate’s trial the only contact will be the Instructor that provides them a flagon of green colored water and a slice of maggot ridden bread.

They will be asked one question and must answer immediately or be removed from training. “Is Varya alive within you” the answer being “Yes Inquisitor.” Over the next three days, those after the first two, isolation, food deprivation, and administration of psychotropic compounds (the green water) prepares them for the final days of the trial. On the final two days the mechanisms and lenses in the central chamber are focused on each individual room by secretive tinkerers and the Initiates are exposed to a manipulation of their existing Ether, by painful magical and mechanical means. This is but a small aspect of the Machine that the Red Seminary was built over and it induces in each Initiate a state one hundred fold less intense but similar to that experienced by that first Varyan expedition team. They are induced into a condition where they are “put in touch” with a facsimile of a miniscule portion of the hunger Varya experiences for the other Gods. This is a maddening experience that affects each Individual Initiate in differing ways but it brings home, for those final days and nights of insanity, a personal connection with the God who is then able to gift them more powerful Ether capabilities as their bodies, minds, and training goes on. In effect this enhances the bond Varya has with his subject Inquisitors.

Some students throw themselves into the trench below out of madness or misstep, others go completely mad, carted deeper into the dungeons after the trial is over, but those that do survive intact are ready to begin their first years of training. Having survived the Ravenous Trial the Initiates are healed of any serious malady, given spartan bunks and begin years of progressively torturous training. They are told that those not with them anymore succumbed to the trial and have died or gone mad. In truth the Seminary’s healers can cure any malady or madness inflicted by the trial and those falling or flinging themselves into the chambers trench are not killed but immediately retrieved from the underground lake that feeds the Seminary’s water system. Once found and healed these failures will spend the rest of their twelve years helping those that maintain the Seminary, serving in an honored, if lower, rank of Seminary Acolyte.

Initiates
The first years for the Initiates training are primarily filled with schooling and theology. Harsh rules are enforced with corporal punishment that is given often and intensely but never without cause. Every minute of every day of their lives for the next two years will be micro-managed, supervised, and observed. Along with the introduction into academic matters and theological matters comes the baseline physical training. Hand-to-hand combat begins early in order to develop a warrior culture, the “I” and “Me” is broken down, and the words are never used the team and the organization takes priority. The Initiate refers to themselves as “This Initiate” or “Initiate and then their name” They must request to do everything and anything and are punished for any small infraction. This period focuses on breaking down much of the old person, what little there was, and imposing the ways of the Inquisition. To craft the elite Inquisitors each must start from a baseline of obedience and warrior culture. The instructors are loud, quick to strike, and commanding… there is no mistaking that this is their world they are Gods under Varya’s will and Initiates are nothing but grains of sand. Their prior lives are erased and a militaristic warrior culture is established as a baseline, from here the individual becomes part of a greater whole.

With the passing of the first two years time the micro management ceases. The great reward for enduring this remolding is the first break from Seminary life. A three month period is granted at the end of the year, and every year after in order for the students to invite their families to the Seminary, spending time in the caravan towns of traders outside the walls or within the Seminary’s town square. Students also have the option of leaving for the three month period but if they are late in returning they will not be accepted back into the Inquisitorial program and will be pawned off to another Priestly order.

By this point in time the Initiates have had a warrior culture drilled into them, a selfless deviation to the Seminary, their classmates, and the Inquisition. They gain the freedom to express their personalities again and the constant drill, controlled movement, and empirical processes are ended. The Initiates are divided into Conclaves of twenty members and this unit is to be their unit throughout the rest of their time at the Seminary. Each Conclave is still closely supervised by Instructors, three of them assigned specifically to each Conclave, in addition to their subject matter teachers for different evolutions. These Inquisitors are given a degree of leeway with the manner in which they train the Initiates and competition between Conclaves is encouraged by the Inner Circle. Conclaves often begin planning raids on each others wings in the Seminary, the goal always a weapon, trophy, or important item, these practices are encouraged by the instructor cadre, it hones competitiveness, increases the warrior ethos, team cohesion, abstract planning, deception, combat, and physicality while giving them an outlet for the stresses of Seminary training.

During the third year the physical training is ramped up. Initiates will do every conceivable combination of running, climbing, swimming, swinging, falling, rolling, jumping, scrambling, crawling, and moving. They will complete complex physical puzzles and be faced with challenges that can only be accomplished as a Conclave. Combat training begins to evolve from the hand-to-hand tactics of years one and two to sparring with wooden weapon replicas. Individual tactics are beginning to be taught as well as maneuvers and fighting styles. Basic ranged weaponry, sling, bows, crossbows, and throwing weapons are introduced at this point. Survival training begins in the third year and much of it, while informative, is dangerous. A great majority of the Survival work will be academic in this year, things like shelter, staying warm, weather, survival foods, hunting, trapping, fishing, and overland travel and navigation will be covered. Initiates do spend tests and trials out in the wilds around the Seminary and some do not return, succumbing to exposure, starvation, or predation. While a few die, more often than not, teams of Inquisitorial instructors and observers will quickly rescue the student near death and though they live their failure means reassignment out of Inquisitorial continuance.

Academic course begin to cover mathematics, science, and history along with theology. Ether training moves from an academic nature into a practical form in the third year. Initiates are taught the nature of Ether, its limitations, powers, and abilities, each in tutored in the passive and active abilities and is taught how to conserve their own life giving Ether and how to employ Ether vials. The third year is the first year the Initiates may view the annual Conclave Games but they are yet unable to participate. Each Initiate and Conclave is observed closely and voluminous notes are taken by little seen scribes that are always off to the sides in the shadows and always disappear through some manner or another when approached. Most of these scribes are failed Initiates, Aspirants, or Neophytes that continue to serve the Seminary.

The fourth year passes much as the third year did. The training difficulty increases but so does the students ability. Physical training becomes more demanding, Initiates… in reality twelve to sixteen-year-old children by this time are typically capable of outperforming the normal conscripted solider when it comes to technical combat ability and physical endurance. The fourth year is when the students begin weapons practice with actual weapons, only blunted. Their sparring gets violent and full contact and healers are often required to see to it that students don’t die. Even then only the most grievous of wounds are healed on the spot and only if the Conclaves cadre of instructors thinks the initiate deserves healing. If not they will have to suffer through the day until one of the appointed times healers are available, the Conclave members practicing their first aid or their own healing skills until professional healers are available. Ether training continues to advance; the Initiates begin to be able to maintain their passive abilities and start to practice active techniques with some success. Undue caution is met with corporal punishment and combat aggressiveness is rewarded with a bit of respite or food. Often times at this point it is the entire Conclave that will bear the physical punishment, mental anguish, solitary confinement, or verbal berating for one of their members mistakes.

Two other significant events occur in the fourth year. Initiates are exposed to their blood trials in which their combat and survival skills are pitted against the beasts of the wild in combat matches. Again though seemingly alone against these beasts, teams of healers and observers typically quickly save the fallen or defeated student after it has seemed they have died, bringing them back from the brink and assigning them to serve Varya in other disciplines. Even with this precaution in place each class will see its share of Initiates die; if an actual death occurs, the family takes solace and pride in the fact that their children were selected for the Red Seminary as even just the selection is an august and revered enough to console the families.

The next important event is that the Initiates may participate in the annual Conclave Games. The games are held each year and consist of trials all designed to test the students. Fourth year and Fifth year Initiates participate in the Tower Games outside the Sanctuary, Aspirants participate in the Coliseum Games and the Neophytes compete in their games called the Pentacle Games. The games consist of everything from academic challenges of logic, rhetoric, and puzzle solving, to physical challenges such as many types of races, combat, and endurance games. Each Conclave participates as a team and the Games are held as the opening to the yearly three month break, that way the student’s family may come see them perform. There are no real prizes for winning the games or events except for a token insignia stating what year it was and what was won, the insignia often looked at as one more thing to keep clean, perfectly aligned, and maintained or the instructors will punish the wearer. What happens often is that Conclaves will raid each others barracks after the games have been completed, stealing each others insignia, fighting over them, challenging each other to find hidden ones, and so on and so forth.

Year five continues like year four and three but progresses the training to a new level. Initiates will normally rise an hour before the sun, train, learn, pray, and fight all day until late in the evening typically 2000. During this time crammed with academia, combat training, physical training, and spiritual training students must find time to eat and complete the tasks assigned to them by instructors. No leeway is given, the schedule always has priority for the Conclave, and it is the Conclaves job to figure out how to optimize their time and resources during the ten hours a day they do not train. Combat drills and endurance training is focused on in year five. Ether training, survival training, and course work are still important but the instructors take this year to harden any soft edges left before the Initiates become Aspirants and move on to the demon year or year six. The Initiates are also assigned Neophyte mentors in the fifth year. These Neophytes, a year from being ordained, become part of that Conclaves instructor cadre and are given the opportunity to pass on some knowledge, skills, a small degree of hope, and mentorship before the Hell of the demon year begins. Also in the fifth year the blood trials become fiercer and some Conclaves suffer great losses to attrition and perceived death. If a Conclave becomes too small to function effectively then it will be merged with another weakened Conclave to form a new Conclave, the Initiates having to come together with newer people in order to succeed. Those that adapt and lead succeed those that cannot fail. At the end of the fifth year the Initiate Conclaves are allowed their three months of freedom but when they return to the Seminary they are deemed Aspirants and without much ceremony or fanfare the Conclaves instructors turn the newly dubbed Aspirants over to an order of Inquisitors that exist only in the Red Seminary, The Acherons.

Aspirants
The newly dubbed “Aspirants”, full of mirth from their three months off, pride at being Aspirants, and confidence in their skill have no idea what they have stepped into once in the care of the Acherons. The sixth year, conducted by the Acherons is dubbed the “demon year”. Once the Instructor Cadre departs the Acherons begin eight-months of terror and training that anyone not being trained as an Inquisitorial Initiate could not endure. Immediately they are set upon by men and women, Acherons, that make even the strictest Cadre Instructor seem like an angel. The Acherons are the hardest and most war blooded, elite Inquisitors that have returned to the Seminary to train Aspirants. Each knows no pity or remorse and will remove an Aspirant from training without a second thought. Their feverish and near insane tempo of order barking, corporal punishment, and ability to inflict mental anguish are all ways of weeding out those that flew under the radar during the first five years. Their method of madness simulates the stress an Inquisitor may experience during prolonged combat and war and it is unrelenting. This year of training sees a rapid progression of physical strength and endurance training, academics are taught but often while fighting or training and students will be required to remember the lessons while conducting other drills. Sleep will be interrupted, food will be scarce but enough, and the Conclave will have to come together as a unit and as a team of unique personalities and skill sets to succeed. The demon year continues at a break neck, non-stop pace for the entire eight-months. The Aspirants that do not die either perceptually or in reality are taught more advanced fighting techniques, different weapons, firearms, advanced survival, more advanced Ether manipulation, and take part in many tactical decision making and leadership scenarios.

Once completed the Acherons, possibly showing a small amount of begrudging respect… most likely not, will hand the students back to the Instructor Cadre that left them eight-months ago. Having survived the demon years the true Aspirants are now given new robes and clothing of leather and wool, green in color, in respect to their ascension into the novice ranks above Initiate and more durable for the training to come. The month immediately following the eight-month demon year is called the vigil month. It is a month that the Aspirant spends entirely in prayer, healing, and observation… a measure to ensure the demon year did not leave any lasting scars upon the new Aspirant. Once the Vigil month is complete the student is cleared and the yearly Conclave Games will begin followed by that year’s three month break.

Returning Aspirants will find that during the seventh year they are given even more freedom within the strictures of training. Training schedules are still progressive and tough, lessons continue on advanced topics making even the dumbest inquisitor more educated than most common men or women. Ranged weaponry progresses from basic use into combat marksmanship, sparring and combat begins with the actual weapons the student prefers and often time students are encouraged to spar each other and other Conclaves. Instructor Cadres become less of the God-like instructors of Initiates and more like stern mentors that oversee the progression of the Aspirants individual skills. As an Aspirant the town square of the Red Seminary, the small village like courtyard enclosed by the Seminary’s walls, becomes open to the students during the day if they find the time to visit it. Here students can find a microcosm of a small village and often times instructors will utilize the Acolytes and failed students that live and work here as marks for information gathering, intelligence work, and urban survival training. Like all years, except the first two, the time ends with the Conclave Games and the three free months.

Years eight and nine are a progression of year seven. By now the youngest Aspirants are about sixteen and the oldest are close to nineteen or twenty and each Conclave of youngsters are the equivalent of an Elite military organization when it comes to knowledge and Ether/Combat skill levels. The Instructors seem to let on that the Aspirants are no longer a dull stick of iron but a sword that needs refining and sharpening and treat them as such. Any infraction is still sternly punished but not out of a desire to instill disciple or order but because the Aspirants and Conclave should know better by now. Year nine is the final year that the student will be an Aspirant. At its end, after the games but before they leave for the free months the remaining students… less than a quarter of what started, are dubbed Neophytes and granted permission to wear the solid black robes of their rank.

Neophytes
If Initiates are dull sticks of iron and Aspirants refined swords then “Neophytes” are a swords keen edge. The first two years of being a Neophyte, years ten and eleven, are big changes for the students and the Conclave. As Initiates their schedules were set in stone, as Aspirants the Instructors began to focus more on what needed fine tuning but as Neophytes the students and Conclaves are given even more leeway. They are told by the Instructors what course and training events they must attend during a week… other than that it is up to the individual and the Conclave as a whole to ensure they are where they need to be, when they need to be, with the gear they need. This also serves to give the Cadre Instructors a break besides that which occurred during the demon year. All training focuses on shaping the deadly edge Neophytes have to the thinnest, razor keen edge. Their minds are tested and pushed by complex tactical scenarios, philosophical and theological debates, and advanced sciences and mathematics. Advanced interrogation and even torture techniques are taught and the physical training is focused to boost whatever may be lacking, or push that high standard just a bit farther. Fierce competition between individuals and Conclaves is encouraged as most of the Instructors are aging and can no longer keep up with the student’s younger physiques, though they still instruct mounds of technical skill. Students now have the run of the Town Square as Neophytes, day or night, and it is their responsibility to see they have all that is required for their training evolutions. In these final years the youngest Neophytes are nineteen the oldest nearing the end of their twenty-third year and each is the pinnacle of Varyan priestly, Ether wielding, academic, and military prowess. These years end with the Conclave Pentacle Games which are often the most watched and most competitive, followed by the standard three month grace period.

The final year, year twelve, is the year in which a Neophyte is assigned to assist the Cadre Instructors with a batch of fifth year Initiates that are preparing for the demon year. This Neophyte is granted whatever leeway with the Initiates that the Cadre Instructors grant and often times spend a great deal of time as a mentor to the young students as the Cadre that is dedicating twelve years to this group takes a break. This time is in addition to their final year of training, examinations, and religious rights but provides the Neophyte the ability to develop his or her leadership style outside of the Conclave they have known for twelve years. At the end of this last year a final Pentacle Games is held, a separate division created for the graduating class and for the first time participation is optional. After the games an elaborate ceremony attend by the students family and friends, Instructor Cadres, Seraphs, the occasional Acheron, and all available members of the Inner Circle is held in the main Sanctuary. It has even been known for The Grand Master to attend this ceremony and on average, of the initial two-hundred students that started… one Conclave of twenty Neophytes remains. The Neophytes complete their final rituals before the assembled mass, swear their binding oaths, and are clothed in the black and red robes of ordained Inquisitors, rising as Fathers and Mothers of the faith. Once complete the new Inquisitors are allowed their final three month grace period to relax and put any family matters to rest before receiving their assignments from the Inner Circle. During this final three month period Inquisitors, are granted an 'audience' with Lord Varyan, where they are taken to an unnamed colossal chamber within the Grand Palace in Magnagrad and are allowed a small glimpse of Lord Varya. This meeting or glimpse is always through some kind of veil and even then it is only the honed endurance and mental fortitude of the Inquisitors training that allows them to survive the encounter. Lord Varya says nothing to the Inquisitors but they can feel the enormity of what is in the room with them. Lord Varya then makes a spiritual connection with the Inquisitor and they are thus blessed with a powerful gift taking form of an active ability.