Name: Cynthia Schovajsa
Age: 56
Gender: Female
Race: Reptilian—a long-lived race of demihumans created using the stolen DNA of apex human specimens, and the DNA of their hyper-intelligent extraterrestrial invaders, whose name the demihumans are forced to share. For some, being created by "lizard people" rather than gods is enough reason for prejudice, but with forked tongues, inhumanly sharp eyes, and fangs and claws tough as iron, few humans or even near-human races consider them as friends, relegating them to the company of other beings humans collectively call "monsters." Female reptilians also carry a potent venom that can be used both to kill and to dull pain, making them preferred as soldiers.
Appearance: A rather severe-looking woman of Amazonian height—about 6'10'' (208 cm) when perched on her toes. With a razor-sharp glare and flowing white hair that is longer than most humans are tall, she certainly catches the eye, but is not what most would call beautiful, despite her lack of facial scars. She is a bonafide soldier, preferring war paint to makeup, commanding with intimidation over grace. Still, unlike many of her brethren, she is human enough that, with her clawed arms and feet hidden behind a cape or table, one could almost forget she is a reptilian—until she opens her mouth. For this reason, she is shy with her words, and frequently (and literally) bites her tongue to keep it in check when speaking. Focusing both eyes on the person speaking to her is also a work in progress.
Home World: Cynthia's home planet of Dominus suffers greatly under its patron god, whom it is named after. The scar-shaped wastelands that mark the front lines of its eternally raging wars can be seen more easily from space than its remaining civilizations—but this was not always so. In times past, Dominus was a thriving global civilization of Spartan-tier warriors with enviable technological means—a truly unassailable fortress of a planet during its golden age.
Then, everything changed. Perhaps, if Dominus had discovered the multiverse sooner, things could have been different. Alas, having conquered the stars, the people of Dominus began to grow soft with no more enemies to fight. Unable to satisfy his lust for war in this new world order, Dominus turned the denizens of his own world against one another. Many nations and even planets would fall to ruin in the ensuing chaos. With his own people dragging each other down in constant civil war, they were eventually overrun by the now-superior reptilians, invaders from another realm entirely—but Dominus cared little, as long as war continued. Caught in the middle, the newly-hatched hybrids were pressed into service in the war as soon as they were able—and employed by both sides of the conflict, as many eggs were stolen from the reptilians during various rebel incursions. The resulting child soldiers on both sides would eventually band together in the Great Revolt, ultimately choosing humanity over their cold, uncaring parents, who reminded them only of war.
But the promise of an end to conflict proved ephemeral, as the humans held no real place in their hearts for these hybrids, referring to them all with the familiar epithet of "reptilian." The hybrids were driven underground in Traitorous Crusades, fleeing to caves hidden in the mountains of the desert, while the humans migrated ever northward, to where their cold-blooded enemies could not easily reach. The conflict continues; for a spell it may pause, but on and on the war rages, and changes, but does not stop.
Patron Deity: Dominus, god of war. Loathed by nearly all his people, he remains a valued member of this new multiversal pantheon, his reputation among other gods upheld by his long, gilded history of accomplishments... recent events notwithstanding, of course. He is notorious for producing strong Champions and "motivating" them to set out on the most dangerous of missions, laying claim to many victories when other Champions lacked the courage to fight without one of his at their side. They are known to be highly skilled warriors, but it is also well known that his Champions are virtually worked to death and never reach old age. Cynthia, though relatively young for her race, is the oldest Champion Dominus has ever had, and many of her people are gossiping about it, with hushed jokes about her impending "retirement." Sadly, it seems few among the gods are wont to criticize his methods, effective as they are.
His sword, Nefas Dominis, can bend space and command gravity, crushing anything. The armor he wears was forged from the bones of a god of fortresses, whose name has been lost to the history books of mortals. Its wearer cannot be harmed except by weapons made using a process known only to the gods themselves—and even with such a weapon, the armor remains highly effective.
Champion’s Blessing: What else to expect from a god of war but a sword? Named Ninkigal, it grants its wielder power over the earth, and increases one's strength the closer they are to death. The meaning of such a gift seems obvious to all who know Dominus well: "By all means, bury your enemies, but while you're at it, bury yourself too." Like all weapons gifted by Dominus, it is unnaturally durable, but by no means indestructible—mirroring their wielders. Both the mysterious ivory-colored metal and decorative sapphire are said to have been taken from the core of a destroyed planet. When its power is called upon, the jewel emits a sound that, while inaudible to humans, induces an emotional state best described as "impending doom."
Only Champions may use the sword, with all other mortals attempting to wield its true power doomed to be swiftly petrified, their limbs crumbling to dust under its sheer weight. While it's widely considered "bad luck" for Champions to trade their god-given gifts around, any Champion strong enough to lift Ninkigal may technically use it. Only Cynthia may draw upon its powers merely by possessing it, however; others must swing the sword to achieve any desired effect, making controlled use of its powers rather difficult for anyone else.
Inventory: Accustomed to long marches across deserts, up mountains, through rainforest and tundra, Cynthia travels light. Aside from her fancy new sword, her trusty survival knife, flint and steel, a canteen, some old bandages and a compass/pocketwatch round out her kit. Most of her body is covered in scales already, so her armor is light, consisting mostly of leather and just two steel vambraces for deflecting attacks. The inside of her breastplate is lined with magic gemstones that can generate heat, giving just enough cold resistance to not expire merely from walking through snow.
Magic: Magic is Cynthia's biggest weakness, as without her Champion's Blessing, she has none—and no experience using magic without it. Fortunately for her, it turns out that hurling big rocks at her enemies is pretty intuitive, as is building defensive walls in a pinch. Unfortunately, her inexperience is not the only thing holding her back in the magic department; cold-blooded reptilians are especially susceptible to ice attacks, and their keen eyes, accustomed to living underground and hunting at night, do not appreciate bright flashes.
In her homeworld, mana works in a very similar way to muscle; the "use it or lose it" rule applies to one's mana pool, making Cynthia's fairly low. Additionally, mana builds up quickly over the course of battle, but gradually ebbs away afterwards, like adrenaline. With the exception of cataclysmically destructive spells, it will generally build up faster than it is consumed, allowing mid-tier spells to be used with impunity, but larger attacks will be late to the party, if they get used at all. Any magic user who can steal mana or bottleneck its flow can cripple Cynthia's deceptive magical capabilities almost instantly, causing her to prefer the sword—which is powerful in its own right, able to smash through concrete walls and cause the ground to shake when slammed into it.
Ninkigal itself almost exclusively commands the earth element. With it, anything from the smallest grain of sand to the tallest mountain can be moved, given enough time to produce the mana for it. The elemental spells give her a lot of control over the field, vastly increasing her options, lending her both offensive and defensive support when needed—as long as she is outdoors. She still has a lot of options indoors, but most of them are bad. Except one: Salt the Earth is a purification spell that can eradicate most basic curses and toxins, including her own venom. The raw physical and magical power of Ninkigal's wielder is also increased, in a function that correlates both to blood loss and adrenaline, the nature of which Cynthia neither understands nor attempts to rely upon.
Skills: Cynthia is well-versed in all things "battlefield survival," including navigation, bushcraft, first aid, CQC, and the use of many weapons, including various forms of swordplay—but only the most primitive of technologies, unfortunately, due to Dominus's sordid history. She is a skilled runner and climber, courtesy of her reptilian claws, and a nigh-unrivaled hunter thanks to her keen reptilian eyes and sense of smell, which can track prey for miles. Once caught, Cynthia's prey is not safe from her stomach, either; she has an iron constitution and can eat almost anything, provided it contains a less-than-average amount of poison. She's quite hardy in general—even if she loses an arm, it'll grow back in no more than about 20 years. Or 20 hours, if there's a particularly dedicated, magically-trained healer in the house. That might save some time.
Though she is also a competent swimmer, she can only realistically do so in warmer climates. For her, what humans would consider a mild wind chill combined with soaked clothes can be debilitating—frigid waters, a near-guaranteed death sentence. Her venomous bite can be used both to make painkillers for her allies and to quickly paralyze and subdue an unsuspecting opponent. A stealthy ambush is usually required for the latter, as the venomous fangs reside toward the back end of her mouth, requiring a "full bite" for any appreciable effect. The inside of her left forearm is pockmarked with scars from self-bites to abuse the painkilling effect.
Though she possesses many of the skills that typify nobility, few are inclined to respond well to diplomacy when terms are given by a reptilian, especially one whose voice is reminiscent of a goblin with smoker's lung—no matter how well-chosen her words may be (and as quiet as she is, they most assuredly are). For this reason, she's better off playing the role of an advisor than a negotiator, unless the situation demands the use of intimidation, in which she excels. In fact, she excels so much at intimidation that most human-domesticated animals are terrified at the mere sight of her, relegating equestrianism to the confines of her more childish fantasies. Cats, however, while skittish around most humans, are almost magnetically attracted to the lower tones of her gruff accent. Figure that one out.
Personality: Cynthia could be said to have the personality of an igloo. Though she is cold, both outside and in, she aims to be the stablest of all warriors, ever unflappable, slow to anger, and just warmer than the cruelty of man, of the world, and of the war. Under her wing, the weak become strong, and the dull become sharp, while she keeps the worst of the storm at bay. She will come to the aid of others, but will not hold her tongue during the lecture afterwards. Though a divisive figure back home, she is well respected and trusted by her soldiers, and many among them think of her as family but would dare not say it.
Despite her pedigree as a soldier, she is still also a princess (but spare your ears the lecture and don't call her that). Better known by her informal title of "War Queen," she is notorious for pushing unending "menial" tasks on her underlings, both to keep the youngest away from the front lines and to spare herself the embarrassment of attempting to competently wield a sewing needle or frying pan in front of others. Many see her as a closed-off person, and keep a modest distance. Place her in the company of orcs and give her some liquor, though, and the gallows humor, war stories and philosophical ramblings come out. That's right: despite her gruff and cold exterior, some semblance of the hyper-intelligence of the ancient reptilians resides within. It's a little-known fact amongst her inner circle that she has, in fact, written two books under an assumed name. She is very secretive about this.
History: When the humans betrayed their temporary hybrid allies, Cynthia's grandmother was their leader, and the hatred and distrust of humans has remained a signature aspect of the family—until now. Unlike her siblings, Cynthia did not grow to hate humans, which has baffled all and offended many. Some called for action against her, but her results in the war spoke for themselves and could not simply be explained away or written off as the falsely attributed accomplishments of others. Cynthia was ruthlessly efficient, but not cruel; her heart full of pride and drive, and not hatred or desperation. The wisdom to rule over her people is reflected in her actions and attitude toward the war, and the soldiers have taken notice. As such, she keeps a healthy distance from the courts, preferring sharpened steel over dull politics.
Unfortunately, her attempts to gain power from the front lines, away from the prying eyes of politicians, did not go unnoticed by Dominus. She holds little admiration for Dominus, as do most, but doesn't have much choice in her appointment as a Champion. Her appointment is just one of several conditions necessary for a very promising accord between multiple non-human factions, an accord which could force the humans to acknowledge the demihuman races' right to exist. Further complicating matters, most of Cynthia's siblings, the go-to alternative choices for a Champion, are more reptilian than human, and Cynthia the reverse—more human than reptilian—a fact that ensures Dominus' choice causes maximum political chaos, and solidifies his offer as one that Cynthia cannot easily refuse.
For the sake of the war back home, then, she decided that it was best to leave on this mission that she, personally, couldn't care less about—if only because she doesn't yet know the details. However, there is little hope that she was chosen as Champion for any other reason than to remove her from Dominus' chessboard. Though descriptions of her attitudes toward humans range from "practical" to "neutral" to "milquetoast," all agree that she is a potential troublemaker, and to cast one's lot with her is to stand directly against the status quo. Many in the family are jeering and wishing her a "happy retirement," and few are praying for her safety—but Cynthia chooses to give only the latter voices space in her mind, as she tries to focus on the struggles in front of her.
Age: 56
Gender: Female
Race: Reptilian—a long-lived race of demihumans created using the stolen DNA of apex human specimens, and the DNA of their hyper-intelligent extraterrestrial invaders, whose name the demihumans are forced to share. For some, being created by "lizard people" rather than gods is enough reason for prejudice, but with forked tongues, inhumanly sharp eyes, and fangs and claws tough as iron, few humans or even near-human races consider them as friends, relegating them to the company of other beings humans collectively call "monsters." Female reptilians also carry a potent venom that can be used both to kill and to dull pain, making them preferred as soldiers.
Appearance: A rather severe-looking woman of Amazonian height—about 6'10'' (208 cm) when perched on her toes. With a razor-sharp glare and flowing white hair that is longer than most humans are tall, she certainly catches the eye, but is not what most would call beautiful, despite her lack of facial scars. She is a bonafide soldier, preferring war paint to makeup, commanding with intimidation over grace. Still, unlike many of her brethren, she is human enough that, with her clawed arms and feet hidden behind a cape or table, one could almost forget she is a reptilian—until she opens her mouth. For this reason, she is shy with her words, and frequently (and literally) bites her tongue to keep it in check when speaking. Focusing both eyes on the person speaking to her is also a work in progress.
Home World: Cynthia's home planet of Dominus suffers greatly under its patron god, whom it is named after. The scar-shaped wastelands that mark the front lines of its eternally raging wars can be seen more easily from space than its remaining civilizations—but this was not always so. In times past, Dominus was a thriving global civilization of Spartan-tier warriors with enviable technological means—a truly unassailable fortress of a planet during its golden age.
Then, everything changed. Perhaps, if Dominus had discovered the multiverse sooner, things could have been different. Alas, having conquered the stars, the people of Dominus began to grow soft with no more enemies to fight. Unable to satisfy his lust for war in this new world order, Dominus turned the denizens of his own world against one another. Many nations and even planets would fall to ruin in the ensuing chaos. With his own people dragging each other down in constant civil war, they were eventually overrun by the now-superior reptilians, invaders from another realm entirely—but Dominus cared little, as long as war continued. Caught in the middle, the newly-hatched hybrids were pressed into service in the war as soon as they were able—and employed by both sides of the conflict, as many eggs were stolen from the reptilians during various rebel incursions. The resulting child soldiers on both sides would eventually band together in the Great Revolt, ultimately choosing humanity over their cold, uncaring parents, who reminded them only of war.
But the promise of an end to conflict proved ephemeral, as the humans held no real place in their hearts for these hybrids, referring to them all with the familiar epithet of "reptilian." The hybrids were driven underground in Traitorous Crusades, fleeing to caves hidden in the mountains of the desert, while the humans migrated ever northward, to where their cold-blooded enemies could not easily reach. The conflict continues; for a spell it may pause, but on and on the war rages, and changes, but does not stop.
Patron Deity: Dominus, god of war. Loathed by nearly all his people, he remains a valued member of this new multiversal pantheon, his reputation among other gods upheld by his long, gilded history of accomplishments... recent events notwithstanding, of course. He is notorious for producing strong Champions and "motivating" them to set out on the most dangerous of missions, laying claim to many victories when other Champions lacked the courage to fight without one of his at their side. They are known to be highly skilled warriors, but it is also well known that his Champions are virtually worked to death and never reach old age. Cynthia, though relatively young for her race, is the oldest Champion Dominus has ever had, and many of her people are gossiping about it, with hushed jokes about her impending "retirement." Sadly, it seems few among the gods are wont to criticize his methods, effective as they are.
His sword, Nefas Dominis, can bend space and command gravity, crushing anything. The armor he wears was forged from the bones of a god of fortresses, whose name has been lost to the history books of mortals. Its wearer cannot be harmed except by weapons made using a process known only to the gods themselves—and even with such a weapon, the armor remains highly effective.
Champion’s Blessing: What else to expect from a god of war but a sword? Named Ninkigal, it grants its wielder power over the earth, and increases one's strength the closer they are to death. The meaning of such a gift seems obvious to all who know Dominus well: "By all means, bury your enemies, but while you're at it, bury yourself too." Like all weapons gifted by Dominus, it is unnaturally durable, but by no means indestructible—mirroring their wielders. Both the mysterious ivory-colored metal and decorative sapphire are said to have been taken from the core of a destroyed planet. When its power is called upon, the jewel emits a sound that, while inaudible to humans, induces an emotional state best described as "impending doom."
Only Champions may use the sword, with all other mortals attempting to wield its true power doomed to be swiftly petrified, their limbs crumbling to dust under its sheer weight. While it's widely considered "bad luck" for Champions to trade their god-given gifts around, any Champion strong enough to lift Ninkigal may technically use it. Only Cynthia may draw upon its powers merely by possessing it, however; others must swing the sword to achieve any desired effect, making controlled use of its powers rather difficult for anyone else.
Inventory: Accustomed to long marches across deserts, up mountains, through rainforest and tundra, Cynthia travels light. Aside from her fancy new sword, her trusty survival knife, flint and steel, a canteen, some old bandages and a compass/pocketwatch round out her kit. Most of her body is covered in scales already, so her armor is light, consisting mostly of leather and just two steel vambraces for deflecting attacks. The inside of her breastplate is lined with magic gemstones that can generate heat, giving just enough cold resistance to not expire merely from walking through snow.
Magic: Magic is Cynthia's biggest weakness, as without her Champion's Blessing, she has none—and no experience using magic without it. Fortunately for her, it turns out that hurling big rocks at her enemies is pretty intuitive, as is building defensive walls in a pinch. Unfortunately, her inexperience is not the only thing holding her back in the magic department; cold-blooded reptilians are especially susceptible to ice attacks, and their keen eyes, accustomed to living underground and hunting at night, do not appreciate bright flashes.
In her homeworld, mana works in a very similar way to muscle; the "use it or lose it" rule applies to one's mana pool, making Cynthia's fairly low. Additionally, mana builds up quickly over the course of battle, but gradually ebbs away afterwards, like adrenaline. With the exception of cataclysmically destructive spells, it will generally build up faster than it is consumed, allowing mid-tier spells to be used with impunity, but larger attacks will be late to the party, if they get used at all. Any magic user who can steal mana or bottleneck its flow can cripple Cynthia's deceptive magical capabilities almost instantly, causing her to prefer the sword—which is powerful in its own right, able to smash through concrete walls and cause the ground to shake when slammed into it.
Ninkigal itself almost exclusively commands the earth element. With it, anything from the smallest grain of sand to the tallest mountain can be moved, given enough time to produce the mana for it. The elemental spells give her a lot of control over the field, vastly increasing her options, lending her both offensive and defensive support when needed—as long as she is outdoors. She still has a lot of options indoors, but most of them are bad. Except one: Salt the Earth is a purification spell that can eradicate most basic curses and toxins, including her own venom. The raw physical and magical power of Ninkigal's wielder is also increased, in a function that correlates both to blood loss and adrenaline, the nature of which Cynthia neither understands nor attempts to rely upon.
Skills: Cynthia is well-versed in all things "battlefield survival," including navigation, bushcraft, first aid, CQC, and the use of many weapons, including various forms of swordplay—but only the most primitive of technologies, unfortunately, due to Dominus's sordid history. She is a skilled runner and climber, courtesy of her reptilian claws, and a nigh-unrivaled hunter thanks to her keen reptilian eyes and sense of smell, which can track prey for miles. Once caught, Cynthia's prey is not safe from her stomach, either; she has an iron constitution and can eat almost anything, provided it contains a less-than-average amount of poison. She's quite hardy in general—even if she loses an arm, it'll grow back in no more than about 20 years. Or 20 hours, if there's a particularly dedicated, magically-trained healer in the house. That might save some time.
Though she is also a competent swimmer, she can only realistically do so in warmer climates. For her, what humans would consider a mild wind chill combined with soaked clothes can be debilitating—frigid waters, a near-guaranteed death sentence. Her venomous bite can be used both to make painkillers for her allies and to quickly paralyze and subdue an unsuspecting opponent. A stealthy ambush is usually required for the latter, as the venomous fangs reside toward the back end of her mouth, requiring a "full bite" for any appreciable effect. The inside of her left forearm is pockmarked with scars from self-bites to abuse the painkilling effect.
Though she possesses many of the skills that typify nobility, few are inclined to respond well to diplomacy when terms are given by a reptilian, especially one whose voice is reminiscent of a goblin with smoker's lung—no matter how well-chosen her words may be (and as quiet as she is, they most assuredly are). For this reason, she's better off playing the role of an advisor than a negotiator, unless the situation demands the use of intimidation, in which she excels. In fact, she excels so much at intimidation that most human-domesticated animals are terrified at the mere sight of her, relegating equestrianism to the confines of her more childish fantasies. Cats, however, while skittish around most humans, are almost magnetically attracted to the lower tones of her gruff accent. Figure that one out.
Personality: Cynthia could be said to have the personality of an igloo. Though she is cold, both outside and in, she aims to be the stablest of all warriors, ever unflappable, slow to anger, and just warmer than the cruelty of man, of the world, and of the war. Under her wing, the weak become strong, and the dull become sharp, while she keeps the worst of the storm at bay. She will come to the aid of others, but will not hold her tongue during the lecture afterwards. Though a divisive figure back home, she is well respected and trusted by her soldiers, and many among them think of her as family but would dare not say it.
Despite her pedigree as a soldier, she is still also a princess (but spare your ears the lecture and don't call her that). Better known by her informal title of "War Queen," she is notorious for pushing unending "menial" tasks on her underlings, both to keep the youngest away from the front lines and to spare herself the embarrassment of attempting to competently wield a sewing needle or frying pan in front of others. Many see her as a closed-off person, and keep a modest distance. Place her in the company of orcs and give her some liquor, though, and the gallows humor, war stories and philosophical ramblings come out. That's right: despite her gruff and cold exterior, some semblance of the hyper-intelligence of the ancient reptilians resides within. It's a little-known fact amongst her inner circle that she has, in fact, written two books under an assumed name. She is very secretive about this.
History: When the humans betrayed their temporary hybrid allies, Cynthia's grandmother was their leader, and the hatred and distrust of humans has remained a signature aspect of the family—until now. Unlike her siblings, Cynthia did not grow to hate humans, which has baffled all and offended many. Some called for action against her, but her results in the war spoke for themselves and could not simply be explained away or written off as the falsely attributed accomplishments of others. Cynthia was ruthlessly efficient, but not cruel; her heart full of pride and drive, and not hatred or desperation. The wisdom to rule over her people is reflected in her actions and attitude toward the war, and the soldiers have taken notice. As such, she keeps a healthy distance from the courts, preferring sharpened steel over dull politics.
Unfortunately, her attempts to gain power from the front lines, away from the prying eyes of politicians, did not go unnoticed by Dominus. She holds little admiration for Dominus, as do most, but doesn't have much choice in her appointment as a Champion. Her appointment is just one of several conditions necessary for a very promising accord between multiple non-human factions, an accord which could force the humans to acknowledge the demihuman races' right to exist. Further complicating matters, most of Cynthia's siblings, the go-to alternative choices for a Champion, are more reptilian than human, and Cynthia the reverse—more human than reptilian—a fact that ensures Dominus' choice causes maximum political chaos, and solidifies his offer as one that Cynthia cannot easily refuse.
For the sake of the war back home, then, she decided that it was best to leave on this mission that she, personally, couldn't care less about—if only because she doesn't yet know the details. However, there is little hope that she was chosen as Champion for any other reason than to remove her from Dominus' chessboard. Though descriptions of her attitudes toward humans range from "practical" to "neutral" to "milquetoast," all agree that she is a potential troublemaker, and to cast one's lot with her is to stand directly against the status quo. Many in the family are jeering and wishing her a "happy retirement," and few are praying for her safety—but Cynthia chooses to give only the latter voices space in her mind, as she tries to focus on the struggles in front of her.
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