Achronum

Scion: Children of Light

Standing in the Dijat of Heka in the noonday sun was not Khaemtir’s idea of a good time. He preferred to be out in the evening when the heat was fading off the streets and the air held a hint of the night’s chill to come. He fidgeted more than he should have, Udjebten clicking her tongue at him every time he did just like his mother would, but he couldn’t help it. White silk or not, his parent’s choice of outfit was stifling in this heat. They hadn’t spared any expense on it though and he was begrudgingly in love with the design despite knowing it wasn’t his first choice of outfit. Ivory silk was covered in delicate grey threads, creating a spider web of elegant designs, that faded into gold at the flared bottom and the stiff high collar of the robe. Thankfully, it offered some respite from the material, gold arms rings and vambraces taking the place of the usual sleeves. He thought the vambraces were too much but he was informed they were “ceremonial” and wearing them wasn’t an option. The cloak was clasped over it and he couldn’t help but worry at the material as he stood at attention, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he waited.

The day the cloak came was simultaneously incredibly exciting and terrifying. It was an admission that his life was changing in a way he could never have imagined when he was younger but if anything, it just fueled the excitement all the more. He’d barely suffered through the congratulations from his family―Udjebten actually bit his pants to keep him from making an escape before everyone finished everything they had to say. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d torn his pants in an effort to make him stay still and he really liked those ones damn it!―before he bolted to his room and tore through every article of clothing he owned in an attempt to find something for the commencement ceremony. He was tempted to wear red but he hadn’t wanted to seem presumptuous and then grey was the next thought but he wanted color. He even considered getting some new earrings, something with more than just gold, but he couldn’t make up his mind. His sister Menwei, who had been out working on some project for the Red Order, caught him just as he started crying as the uncertainty and bubbling emotions spilled over and helped him find something he was satisfied with. Not that he got to wear it in the end but it was his first time really doing anything with her.

Guess she wasn’t as awful as he thought.

Khaemtir watched anxiously as the ceremony finally began. He was unsure how to feel about the change in procedure; his family held tradition in high esteem and the Crimson King missing the ceremony made his gut churn with uncertainty. Ruling Photep was no easy job, Khaemtir imagined, but such a significant deviance made him wonder how that bode for this incoming group. He sighed quietly, earning another click from Udjebten with an added pat on the foot, and put it out of his mind. The Vizier to the Crimson King, Sorcerer-Magus Amon, was still leading the ceremony and he was practically an extension of the Crimson King himself so his presence was still there. Stil, Khaemtir couldn’t shake the feeling it was an omen for the future.

However, he had far more pressing matters to concern himself with: his Cult. When the courier delivered his cloak, he’d scoured the notice of his acceptance over and over and over in hopes it’d give him some clue into his future selection. Honestly, he didn’t mind which one selected him. He wanted to study magic and every Cult did that but he was nervous. His dislike of Biomancy, and his inability to keep his lunch down around some of the concepts, instinctively drove him away from the Cult of the Serpent. Logically, he understood that that wasn’t the only thing they taught but joining a Cult with a heavy focus on the one specialty that made him ill would cast a shadow over his excitement. He did lean in favor of the Cult of the Phoenix but in reality, he didn’t care. He just wanted to study the greatest treasure of the greatest city in the entire world!

So when Vizier Amon called his name under Sorcerer-Magus Dagon of the Cult of Crows, Khaemtir was floored. He knew he hesitated but he needed a moment to process. He’d never imagined that the Cult of Crows, the Cult well known for holding onto the Crimson King’s favor and producing the greatest Sorcerers of all time, accepted him into their ranks. He;d finally have an achievement worth his scroll! Khaemtir may have forgotten his manners and gaped until Udjebten head butted his leg. “Get moving, Little Khae. We must not keep people waiting.” She said even as she shone with pride.

“Thank you, Vizier.” Khaemtir said respectfully when Amon made his rounds at the end of the ceremony, bowing his head at the words and then beaming once he stepped away. It felt like hundreds of bubbles were boiling up inside of him and he knew he’d have a spring in his step. He spied his family out of the corner of his eye and while he knew they were waiting for him to join them, he had something to do first. They would understand. They were the ones who taught him the importance of networking after all.

So he focused his attention on the others inducted into the Cult with him. Ishara he knew, between their families mingling at charity events and attending Pesedjet together, he knew she was a hard worker and a promising Sorcerer. He grimaced internally though. They had very different working styles and it had led to some friction between the two. She was great at what she did but she was… aggressive about it and Khaemtir didn’t know how to step back from it without getting wrapped up in the conflict. Hopefully, they could… avoid working together too much.

But the other one, Rada or Radia or something, was an entirely new face. Which made sense considering his simple clothing beneath the high quality Sorcerer’s cloak. He was definitely from the commoner’s part of the city. This cloak was probably the nicest thing he owned, if the fact that he was wearing reed sandals was anything to go by. He seemed the serious type and Khaemtir was a little jealous of his composure. It's always been a failing of his but who could blame him; he didn’t have any serious responsibilities until now! He was probably another one of Ishara style workers; dedicated to the point of obsession and Khaemtir felt the exhaustion inside him already. But if they were going to be working together, he’d rather be friends than awkward acquaintances!

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while still, Ishara!” Khaemtir laughed. “Couldn’t get rid of me at the galas, couldn’t get rid of me at Pesedjet, and now we’re Sorcerers together. I’m not surprised the Crows picked our little Prodigy. But you sir,” He whirled on the new guy, “Are something entirely new. You couldn’t have gone to Pesedjet. I don’t think I could forget a giant like you! I’m Khaemtir Maryatum, the third youngest of the Maryatum family, and this is Ishara Thumotep, only daughter of Aramia Thumotep.” He introduced them with a bow.

“So I was thinking that since we are all joining together and Ishara and I have…” Khaemtir had sudden flashbacks of more than a few research projects they shared. “History already, why don’t we meet up at my place and we can relax and get to know each other?”

“With a chaperone of course, little Khae.” Udjebten chimed in, pointedly looking at Ishara. Khaemtir groaned.

“Of course with a chaperone, Udjebten. It’ll just be Amenemhatanhk.” Khaemtir waved off the concern, turning to explain to others. “He’s in charge of maintaining the estate. We can just ignore him; he’s old enough to be part of the building anyway.”

Testing well everything!

“So I was thinking that since we are all joining together and Ishara and I have…”

Scion: Children of Light

@Dead Cruiser It's like a fun slide of questions but here we go! You mention to maintain a standard of posting (which I plan to because I'm super hype about this) but how often will GM posts come out to move the scene and such?

Scion: Children of Light

@Dead Cruiser I can't believe I didn't think of it until now but do Sorcerers live in the pyramids or do they stay at their own homes and commute in?

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: Outside of Clinic
Skills: N/A

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“The boyfriend needs to know what Ben said to defend your honor, babes. And I recommend you stay away from Sapphire. She’ll probably just freeze you and I prefer you unpopsicled.” James said as he continued to get Casper out fo there. “Ben, I don’t know what you said but you’re probably right if it has anything to do with Casper running into a fight sick.” James sighed and then froze as suddenly Max was… hugging him? He was pleased that Max found a non-destructive application―he made a mental note to practice this new skill Max found on himself before he experimented with it in a high stress situation―but the rest of it just went over his head. James patted Max comfortingly on the back, the awkward situation of supporting Casper and being hugged making much more movement difficult.

“There isn’t anything to apologize for? You haven’t done anything wrong other than charge into a situation you didn’t know anything about while m-pox had a chance of shutting you down.” James grumbled as they reached the car, Callie’s revelation making him groan. Because of course being attacked while a bunch of them were sick and falling apart wasn’t enough. He looked around the parking lot for another option, honing in on the mechanical monstrosity that was the senior van. It was big enough for everyone and if someone could get into it, James could bypass the safety circuits and get it running even if it was a modern model.

“Let’s grab that van then. If someone can break into it, I can get it running.” James said, pointing out the van and pulling out the keys to their current one. “And if anyone is willing to grab anything from the one we came in on so they can’t link us back, that’d be a lot of help.”

Of Blood and Magic

_{Time: 3:01 am - The Forest}

Lilie/Ben

Once the last object slid into it’s pillar and the family crest appeared, the grinding came again as Geoffrey turned to face the pair. Ben’s vision returned. The statue’s empty hand closed and returned to his side. “With the families kneeling at my feet and their armies mine to comm―”

Geoffrey cut off suddenly as he clutched his throat. The marble cracked and flaked, pouring off him like sand. The colors of his clothes changed, the black lined with silver. A new form was taking shape, a head and a half shorter and far more diminutive with a silver viel hiding the top half of her face. Her dress was simple and a lace shawl hugged her shoulders. The Sinnenodel family crest carved itself on viel. The woman brought the scepter up for inspection.

“We of snakes care little for conflict, our cousins’ silly wars for naught. Time consumes all that feels and soon it will be gone. We care naught for that which withers, only for that which grows, a mind beyond the grasp of time and our passionate throes. Our games are far more complex than swords and magic might combined so sit and play and earn our trust as equals of the mind.” Her voice was soothing and sweet but she looked straight at the pair in front of her and crushed the scepter. “No man may make me kneel, no vampire demand dominion.” The bush rew back over her and the light shimmered around the pillars again, turning back into trees.

All of it, the bushes, the trees, even the grass, looked withered and dry.

The woman’s voice echoed out of the dead bush again. “The exit waits in lying down paths that are vying for light amongst the underbrush. But opposite of it, a clear and even path, if skill is what you keep and introspection what you seek.” Ben’s vision disappeared again.

Salem/Victor

The mage screamed as the glaive found its mark, piercing clean through him. He collapsed and the vines slapped harmlessly against Salem before tumbling limp to the ground. The vampire behind him collapsed as well and the only suggestion it was still alive was the skin trying to heal sluggishly around the vines but soon enough, even that stopped as the vampire turned to dust.

Lord Astorio watched Salem silently the entire time until, with the same apathetic expression he wore, he clapped twice and headed into the woods..

Maddie/Amaris

“I believe she is a strong option. Regardless of how we interpret it, her family has signed off on any executions. I would just hope there aren't as many possible deaths in a war.” Contemplating the body count of a vampire, not to mention a Princess, made her uncomfortable. She wouldn’t imagine thinking about that outside of this and now she has been faced with the fact that she never wants to again.

Of course, now there was another dilemma. Should she point out that it’s probably safest to hedge their bets on Ryner and the other vampire family they failed to eliminate. She didn’t know the Countess well enough yet to know if she would react poorly to the fact they had yet to eliminate her own house. “We should bet on Ryner.” She said, instead choosing to let Ari come to that conclusion on her own.

Testing well everything!

The doors slammed open and Ryner bit back her smile as the furious Sinnenodel came marching through. She’d come to recognize the unique flourishes associated with his current emotions. Door swings open calmly? He was here for a social visit. Door opened slowly for the first two inches then quickly the rest of the way? He was here to gloat. He was already through the door before it crashed into the wall? He was murderous.

The last one was her favorite.

“Look at that. My mages have finally adjusted to your childish behavior.” Ryner said as her secretary bowed and closed the door quietly. The first few times, they looked like they were on the verge of a panic attack. Now they just waved him through. It was probably more surprising that he had an appointment rather than just showing up. “So Count Sinnenodel, what can I help you with?”

“What can I help you with?” Varis repeated mockingly as he all but collapsed into a chair. Varis was tired. He’d stayed up trying to figure out where everything went wrong with Eris. Varis may have had the tiny, teeniest inkling Eris thought that maybe there could be more but Varis was never secretive about his stance on affections. The very concept left a distinctly bad taste in his mouth. Those emotions were fleeting and weak and would eventually collapse under the march of time. While they were fresh and fond, they were ammunition. Another point for enemies and tentative allies to drag you around with. Eris was an idiot for making it personal and the fact that Varis lost sleep over it was absurd.

And then of course, the idiot golden boy and his incessant demand for direction did little to soothe his irritation. Varis eventually gave in and sent him scuttling for a while just so he wouldn’t have to see the boy for a while. It irked the Sinnenodel―the boy’s performance certainly did not warrant any free time―but sometimes he had to consider his own mental health instead of the boy’s lack thereof. “Oh I don’t know, Princess. Maybe you could stop interfering with my personal agenda. What in the Queen’s name were you thinking?” Varis demanded, accompanied with a half hearted glare.

“Well, right now I think you skipped your morning routine. Unfortunately.” The words came out dryly as she returned to the folders in front of her. “I’ll need something more specific. I interfere with everyone’s personal agendas. It is quite literally my least favorite part of being next in line for the throne.” Varis scoffed and Ryner bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Please, you love every second of it. You have an entire realm of subjects to choose from so why are you antagonizing me? Making Eris think I’m replacing him with a vampire dead 500 years ago? It wasn’t even subtle, Ryner.” Varis complained. “At least if you’re going to threaten my plans, please make it interesting. This is just annoying. I’ve never had to earn someone’s approval without resorting to underhand means and I wasn’t interested in trying now.”

“I knew nothing would come of it, Varis. I threatened your little pet in our meeting together and he nearly challenged me to a duel. I’m tempted to take him up on the challenge he did offer though. It’d be fun seeing how long he could handle me at my worst.” Ryner mused, laughing at Varis’ murderous look and waving it away. “Calm down, I’m just having a little fun. Court’s been surprisingly civil, my sister isn’t around to antagonize, and the Practical was a roaring success. I think I deserve to enjoy my night.”

Varis stared, dumbfounded, at Ryner. Could he understand sabotage for the sake of a reaction in stressful times? Of course. Every vampire indulged a little, even those inane Marivaldis couldn’t resist. Sometimes Varis would bring it up in casual conversation with whoever he backstabbed just to relieve the thrill. No. He was far too accustomed to working with Ryner for that to bother him. What stunned him was she genuinely believed the Practical was a roaring success. He leaned forward, closed the file she had opened, and stared at her straight in the eye for almost a full minute.

“My apologies, Princess, but I believe I misheard you.” Varis’ voice climbed an octave as he chuckled. “You claim that a noble stumbling around in the forest blind with a bumbling idiot who lacks all concepts of propriety is a success? You claim a noble digging around in the dirt a success? You claim sowing seeds of discord in your ally’s plans a success? You claim setting me on fire a success?” Varis screeched indignantly, the chair toppling over as he launched himself up, finger jabbing accusingly in Ryner’s face.

“Your little practical was an utter failure! I haven’t seen a worse excuse for a test in my life and I’ve suffered Eve classrooms.” Ryner winced at his complaining, rubbing her ear even though the amusement never left her eyes. “Where do you get off?!”

“Generally the bedroom.” Ryner replied without missing a beat, flipping the folder open Varis so rudely closed. His own name was printed at the top. “Normally, I commend you on your control over a conversation but when you’re upset, you devolve into a pattern. Makes it easy to figure out which buttons to press. I really should teach Aaron. Or make an offhand comment to Ella and her sisters. One of them will tell him.” She turned the folder and pushed it towards him. Varis flinched away from it like he was burned, rubbing absently at his ear.

“It was all scripted, Varis. I had a mage write it and I approved it. If I threw anything you could reason your way through, it wouldn’t have been much of a challenge. So I made it illogical. Aaron would never lift a finger to you, you had nothing to do with Ralmevik, Yvaine is the name of a legendary figure the mage once read about in a collection of poems, and the scene was nothing more than a silly creation meant to oppose everything you knew and believed in.” Ryner explained as Varis stared at the folder uneasily. It was a simple enough explanation and it made sense. He was in a sour mood already, on edge and frustrated, and what better way to keep him off balance than throw what he least expected at him? He went in expecting some sort of reason to the madness but there wasn’t any because the madness was the reason. It tied it all up in a pretty little present, bow and all.

So why didn’t it sit very well with him?

“But you aren’t really upset about the fire, are you?” Ryner brought him out of his thoughts. He narrowed his eyes at her sly look. “Maybe you were at the time but you’ve had time to process. You know Aaron would never raise a hand against you and even if he did, we are far more equipped to handle it than you were there. So if that’s the case, why was that the last one? Not the blindness, not the disorientation, not the public humiliation, which honestly I expected to be the focal point of this discussion, but it was the challenge. Why the challenge?”

“Because it was awful, that’s why.” Varis sputtered angrily, eyes darkening and fangs flashing at the Princess, which only made her grin more.

“Varis Sinnenodel, board member of the largest green energy company in the realm, the youngest heir to the Sinnendel Lordship ever, protector of the 3rd oldest Sinnenodel bloodline, biggest bookworm I’ve ever met and the greatest thorn in my side…” Ryner looked like a cat who got the cream, like Varis had handed her the greatest gift she’d even had in the past 7 centuries. “Is that fear I see? I’ve only ever seen that look once. I’m honored. I inspired fear in someone who I honestly believed couldn’t feel it for anyone other than Sybil Sinnenodel. You don’t even fear my mother.” Varis’ jaw clenched and Ryner giggled.

“Stop being a drama queen and sit down. Pick up my chair while you’re at it. Ryner rolled her eyes. “No, we didn’t see inside your, or anyone else’s for that matter, mind. It was simply a complex illusion that includes turning you invisible and intangible. Don’t worry, your century worth of family trauma keeps us out. No one wants to see all your daddy issues.”

Varis moved stiffly as he complied. He could see she wasn’t taking him seriously and it rankled. He didn’t understand why she was doing it though; she wasn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t see the side steps, the deflections, the misdirection so why was she making it so obvious? It didn’t make sense. She was more than capable of obfuscating her goals so unless she didn’t care if he found out, he couldn’t make heads or tails of this obtuse game she was playing. It was exhausting and frustrating. With time running out for Chaend, another meeting being called, Elloise sending messages about Nintrella, the mountain of paperwork he had to sift through, Eris, and the practical, Varis’ analytical capacities were a little tired. Maybe he could just let this one go and revisit it later.

“You need better hobbies.” Varis muttered as he sat, folding his arms, and scowled. Ryner just shook her head and laughed.

“I took a page out of your book, you know. If it’ll get you to stop pouting, I have some interesting news for you. Countess Mirelda, that barely independent Dutchess, offered me a favor for a late spot for one of her mages. I’ve never had one from her so what could I do but say yes. It’s another one for my collection.” Ryner smirked, handing him a document. “Which puts me one step closer to winning out wager.”

Varis took the document and, after sending her an unamused look, scanned over the page. Honestly, he wasn’t very well acquainted with Mirelda’s affairs; she fell under Sinnenodel purview because of a technicality and a trade deal but his Lady always handled her personally. He wasn’t even sure if he had access to whatever records were on file about their dealings. The mage was uninspiring. Better than that white haired atrocity but barely. Varis made a mental note to deduct an additional five points off her next assignment for making him think about her when she wasn’t in front of him.

“And why should I care, Ryner? If you’re expecting me to suddenly open up about this…” Varis peered at the girls name, nose wrinkled. Who had a name like Arva? Good gracious. If someone named him that, he’d treat it like his middle name and ignore it. “You’re going to be disappointed. I’ve given you plenty in the name of our little alliance. You’ll have to pay for it this time.”

“I thought as much. I’m willing to transfer that favor I earned to you if you get me what I want.” Ryner offered. Varis narrowed his eyes at her and looked back over the information. Name, age, gender, affinity, and a picture. It was rare she asked him for something like this so quickly. The Marivaldi’s were aligned with her politically and since they control the Council’s information network, it wouldn’t take much to pluck a few threads out of public view. He knew she was doing it too. She had him on his toes defending his Lady. He had a sneaking suspicion the attempt on his vaults was orchestrated by her but he didn’t have anything to prove it just yet. If everything went well with his asset in the royal castle, he’d have more than enough to blackmail her into submission.

“Really, a favor from a nobody dutchess is all I get? You can go running to the Marivaldi’s if you want to cheat me.” Varis considered exactly what he thought this was worth. It was hard to gauge given that he didn’t know what she wanted out of it but he knew it was valuable. “I want an Eve favor, specifically one from Countess Malvek, and the Dutchess favor or I’ll settle for one from Princess Nox and you can keep the Dutchess’.”

“One from Haldbrek Astorio and the Dutchess’ favor.” Ryner countered.

“Those and one from you.”

“Anika Patel and Wilfrid Harrington.”

“Malvek, Horvath, and Anika.”

“Absolutely no-” Ryner tilted her head in confusion. “What would you even do with a favor from Anika?”

“None of your business.” Varis replied smoothly, despite the fact he had no idea who Anika was. Ryner had only named people he either wanted something from or someone he could use against someone so he assumed it was useful. “Final offer Ryner: Malvek and Horvath and I’ll handle it personally. No mages, no middlemen. Just me.”

Ryner contemplated that for a moment, sitting back and watching him over steepled fingers. Varis maintained eye contact as she did. He knew handling it personally was a nice bargaining chip. It made him more vulnerable than he cared to admit but the favor from the head of the Eve modernist faction was too much to pass up. And Horvath’s would be a nice reprieve if he could get the meeting hosted in the vain Duke’s territory. Elloise had requested it last time they spoke.

“Agreed. I’ll have my mages update our little game and send out notices to the applicable parties.” Ryner pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing her letter. “If you wish, you may keep the document I gave you on her. One of my secretaries insisted I install a printer in here and now I can ask them to print things directly to this one over the airwaves! It’s so neat; I printed out so many photos a few nights ago. See?” Ryner waved around the room.Several of the art pieces she had had been taken down and replaced with various pictures of the royal vampires and the Starag mage family.

“That’s a waste of time and energy. At least use a printer for something useful.” Varis gagged at the pictures. Stupid but it did remind him he needed to use that correction method still hanging on the boy’s wall soon before the psychological impact wore off. He needed to start setting him up for the next fall. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“Anything. The girl’s records are completely sealed from me. Only my mother has permission to access them. And if that wasn’t enough, she isn’t the first one to favor her way into my school.” Ryner sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Duke Monfrello claimed the favor I owed him to bring his son into the academy. Nadir’s background is perfect. It accounts for almost everything, which is better than most, but the timing is so odd. They were barely a week apart. I have a bad feeling someone is bringing their politics onto my campus and I’m not going to tolerate it.”

Varis kept his thoughts to himself as he nodded along, considering the girl. Varis hated to agree with her but that was convenient which made him wary. Of course someone was doing something but with such an obvious method, he quickly came to the conclusion whoever it was, they wanted an investigation and Varis served himself up as the perfect bait. He would have to tread carefully. He hadn’t handled an investigation on his own in a little under two decades. He'd need to research.

“The school’s library should have more than enough to get a rough plan put together. After that, I’ll use the break to refine it.” Varis muttered to himself, considering his options already. He stood up abruptly, his frustrations behind him now that he had a new project to work on. “I’ll take my leave.”

Ryner watched him leave, the door closing calmly behind him. She laughed to herself and the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Scion: Children of Light

@Dead Cruiser Are you going to set up a disco? Of not, can one of us set one up?

Scion: Children of Light

Khaemtir Maryatum

Name: Khaemtir Maryatum

Age: 16

Appearance: Preferring to wear flowing, colorful silks over cotton, Khaemtir dresses to his social standing in a flashy style. His accessories are usually gold, and he wears a lot with his piercings that his mother has been trying to dissuade him from keeping, but rarely display any sort of gem unless the occasion demands it. He stands just under 5’ 10”, a little shorter than his father and average for his classmates, but he is broad shouldered and muscular, the result of hard training and an athletic nature. HIs cheerful disposition is easily apparent, between the perpetual sparkle in brown eyes and the smile he keeps most everywhere he goes.

Background: Stretching back to the founding of Phetop, the Maryatum family considers themselves a pillar of the great city. They fanatically keep their lineage well documented back to the days before the Crimson King and a list of the achievements of each member. They drill their history into each generation, ensuring the traditions that made their family so great endure unchanged through the centuries. While this makes them come off as rigid and old fashioned, the Maryatums consider it preserving history in a world where progress threatens to consume it. They’ve maintained Lordship over the same trade district since the founding of the city and their influence is obvious; although modern building materials have been admitted, buildings and stalls are still required to replicate the original architecture of the city as closely as possible.

The early matriarchs of the family helped establish the Red Orders under the direction of the Crimson King and they’ve maintained a presence in them ever since, prompting the family to teach combat and math through private tutors in addition to their children’s regular education. The call of service is the highest honor, with Lord Pimay Maryatum commanding a position of some authority in the Order Sehkmet, but it isn’t the only path for the family to take. Those who aren’t called serve under the current matriarch, Lady Kiya Maryatum, and focus on maintaining the family’s business and social standings. They’re known for hosting large charity events in traditional Phetopian style that benefit educational and low income housing social services.

Khaemtir is the youngest of three, two sisters older than him by ten and eight years respectively. His eldest sister is a double of their mother, focused and determined and set in the past. She serves at their mother’s side faithfully and loves the city beyond most Lions. His other sister serves one of the Red Orders but Khaemtir has learned to stop asking about her work. The last time he did, she’d taken one piece from every game set he owned and it drove him insane. The expectations for Khaemtir were blessedly low; all of the required roles are filled which left him far more flexibility than his siblings. He grew up slipping away from tutors and lessons with little repercussion but with low expectations also comes little attention despite fulfilling the youngest sibling role perfectly. His grades were satisfactory, his mother far too fearsome for anything less, but they rarely held his interest, disappearing to his friends instead. He was permitted the freedom so long as his grades stayed up and his actions didn’t bring shame to the family name.

That changed when his affinity for magic made itself known. Only three other Maryatums ever became Sorcerers and none of them were living. The expectations suddenly exploded as his parents threw him head first into the Pesedjet. The change was jarring and he struggled with the adjustment to the stifling requirements but the fact that it was magic made it a little easier. Going from the extra child to something unique present quite a challenge as his carefree personality clashed with his studies.

But it was also the motivation he needed. Going from nothing to somebody in the family changed the entire dynamic and he took to magic like a fish to water. He learned and consumed everything he could and, while he could never be considered a great scholar by far, his passion for the subject couldn’t be denied.

Personality: Carefree, attention seeking, and mischievous, Khaemtir is a younger sibling through and through. He’s flirty and social, flitting from one conversation to another in an unbroken chain through the day. He’s energetic and upbeat which lends him to preferring physical activities over his studies. Most of the time when he isn’t pouring over his magical studies or when he’s avoiding the boring ones, he’s practicing his family’s sword techniques, playing some game in the sun with his friends, or working out. His devotion to magic is an anomaly as any of his family tutors would tell you but it’s clear he is dedicated to his craft as it’s a topic of discussion that he could go on for hours if someone lets him.

Unfortunately, his cushioned lifestyle makes him come off as insensitive sometimes. His upbringing was dedicated to the matters of the old aristocracy and he surrounded himself with them. He often fails to understand issues outside of that scope which leads to poor conversation with those outside of his social class. More than once he’s stepped on someone’s toes and struggled to give out an apology for something he didn’t understand.

Aptitude: Surprising everyone, including himself, Khaemtir’s potential for magical practice has shown itself stunningly. Khaemtir’s aptitude and passion has seen him excel in nearly every Pesedjir curriculum except one glaring, failing exception: Biomancy, something that makes him retch at the thought of it. Pyromancy has had his heart from day one and the eve of his commencement has done nothing but stoke the passion.

Tutelary: Udjebten’s summoning was unexpected. Khaemtir was ready for the spell to take some work but instead Udjebten appeared as if she had always been there and was just waiting to be seen. She took the form of a baby hippo with three eyes, one made of ruby, one of sapphire, and one of emerald, and is a delicate balance of maternal instinct and aggression. She dotes on him, insisting he take care of himself and demanding he keep better habits, but her advice on most problems are usually straightforward and violent. Someone insulted you? It’s hard to talk without a jaw. Someone forgot to do their part for a project? A little fire never hurt anyone. Udjebten has taken a liking to his mother and her advice sounds more and more like her everyday, much to Khaemtir’s chagrin.

Aura: The excitement of a child on their namesday waiting to open their first present.

Scion: Children of Light

@Dead Cruiser Okay, here we go! Not really any substantial changes. The information is the same but I cleaned up some wording.

Khaemtir Maryatum

Name: Khaemtir Maryatum

Age: 16

Appearance: Preferring to wear flowing, colorful silks over cotton, Khaemtir dresses to his social standing in a flashy style. His accessories are usually gold, and he wears a lot with his piercings that his mother has been trying to dissuade him from keeping, but rarely display any sort of gem unless the occasion demands it. He stands just under 5’ 10”, a little shorter than his father and average for his classmates, but he is broad shouldered and muscular, the result of hard training and an athletic nature. HIs cheerful disposition is easily apparent, between the perpetual sparkle in brown eyes and the smile he keeps most everywhere he goes.

Background: Stretching back to the founding of Phetop, the Maryatum family considers themselves a pillar of the great city. They fanatically keep their lineage well documented back to the days before the Crimson King and a list of the achievements of each member. They drill their history into each generation, ensuring the traditions that made their family so great endure unchanged through the centuries. While this makes them come off as rigid and old fashioned, the Maryatums consider it preserving history in a world where progress threatens to consume it. They’ve maintained Lordship over the same trade district since the founding of the city and their influence is obvious; although modern building materials have been admitted, buildings and stalls are still required to replicate the original architecture of the city as closely as possible.

The early matriarchs of the family helped establish the Red Orders under the direction of the Crimson King and they’ve maintained a presence in them ever since, prompting the family to teach combat and math through private tutors in addition to their children’s regular education. The call of service is the highest honor, with Lord Pimay Maryatum commanding a position of some authority in the Order Sehkmet, but it isn’t the only path for the family to take. Those who aren’t called serve under the current matriarch, Lady Kiya Maryatum, and focus on maintaining the family’s business and social standings. They’re known for hosting large charity events in traditional Phetopian style that benefit educational and low income housing social services.

Khaemtir is the youngest of three, two sisters older than him by ten and eight years respectively. His eldest sister is a double of their mother, focused and determined and set in the past. She serves at their mother’s side faithfully and loves the city beyond most Lions. His other sister serves one of the Red Orders but Khaemtir has learned to stop asking about her work. The last time he did, she’d taken one piece from every game set he owned and it drove him insane. The expectations for Khaemtir were blessedly low; all of the required roles are filled which left him far more flexibility than his siblings. He grew up slipping away from tutors and lessons with little repercussion but with low expectations also comes little attention despite fulfilling the youngest sibling role perfectly. His grades were satisfactory, his mother far too fearsome for anything less, but they rarely held his interest, disappearing to his friends instead. He was permitted the freedom so long as his grades stayed up and his actions didn’t bring shame to the family name.

That changed when his affinity for magic made itself known. Only three other Maryatums ever became Sorcerers and none of them were living. The expectations suddenly exploded as his parents threw him head first into the Pesedjet. The change was jarring and he struggled with the adjustment to the stifling requirements but the fact that it was magic made it a little easier. Going from the extra child to something unique present quite a challenge as his carefree personality clashed with his studies.

But it was also the motivation he needed. Going from nothing to somebody in the family changed the entire dynamic and he took to magic like a fish to water. He learned and consumed everything he could and, while he could never be considered a great scholar by far, his passion for the subject couldn’t be denied.

Personality: Carefree, attention seeking, and mischievous, Khaemtir is a younger sibling through and through. He’s flirty and social, flitting from one conversation to another in an unbroken chain through the day. He’s energetic and upbeat which lends him to preferring physical activities over his studies. Most of the time when he isn’t pouring over his magical studies or when he’s avoiding the boring ones, he’s practicing his family’s sword techniques, playing some game in the sun with his friends, or working out. His devotion to magic is an anomaly as any of his family tutors would tell you but it’s clear he is dedicated to his craft as it’s a topic of discussion that he could go on for hours if someone lets him.

Unfortunately, his cushioned lifestyle makes him come off as insensitive sometimes. His upbringing was dedicated to the matters of the old aristocracy and he surrounded himself with them. He often fails to understand issues outside of that scope which leads to poor conversation with those outside of his social class. More than once he’s stepped on someone’s toes and struggled to give out an apology for something he didn’t understand.

Aptitude: Surprising everyone, including himself, Khaemtir’s potential for magical practice has shown itself stunningly. Khaemtir’s aptitude and passion has seen him excel in nearly every Pesedjir curriculum except one glaring, failing exception: Biomancy, something that makes him retch at the thought of it. Pyromancy has had his heart from day one and the eve of his commencement has done nothing but stoke the passion.

Tutelary: Udjebten’s summoning was unexpected. Khaemtir was ready for the spell to take some work but instead Udjebten appeared as if she had always been there and was just waiting to be seen. She took the form of a baby hippo with three eyes, one made of ruby, one of sapphire, and one of emerald, and is a delicate balance of maternal instinct and aggression. She dotes on him, insisting he take care of himself and demanding he keep better habits, but her advice on most problems are usually straightforward and violent. Someone insulted you? It’s hard to talk without a jaw. Someone forgot to do their part for a project? A little fire never hurt anyone. Udjebten has taken a liking to his mother and her advice sounds more and more like her everyday, much to Khaemtir’s chagrin.