Big Dread

Redacted (2/5)

@Tybalt Capulet I think my take on it is just a bit more personal as opposed to an ancient force that controls masses of people and all that good stuff. I like your character as well. :D

Redacted (2/5)

@Tybalt Capulet You bet I've read them. I love the concept and wanted to use it here as something a bit different. I'm actually reading Oathbringer right now. XD

Redacted (2/5)

Lennart Derrot

Lennart Derrot, Vizegraf of Decrut

Race: Human
Archetype: Fighter
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Dark Shadow:
Possession
The Thrill

The minds of men are so easy to enter in times of great stress and pain. The Thrill saw such a great opportunity in Lennart when he was a young knight. The Thrill is the name this formless presence was given by Lennart himself and always seeks to reinforce that it is just a feeling and not a thing all its own. The Thrill is insidious, striking when Lennart needs it most and when he is most likely to reach out for it. It offers him power, focus, aggression. It whispers that all can be solved by the right application of steel. It rages in his mind when he fights, driving him to greater heights of violence and bloodlust, feasting on those the knight slays. It is the creeping desire for death, the reddening vision, narrowing focus, the call for advancement through blood. The Thrill is a part of Lennart as much as his father's teaching. It is happy to have him as a companion and bide its time. Soon enough the knight will let The Thrill all the way and then it will wash the world in crimson.

Appearance:

Lennart

Not in Full Harness:

In Full Harness:

Lennart stand tall and regal in bearing. He is not actually overly tall but his broad square shoulders and upright posture seem to make him like a wall tower when brought up in the minds of those he meets. He wears a long arming jack that bears the insignia of House Derrot, a blue field of the sky set to a hunting hank wrought in green is the seal of House Derrot, and their colors. A long cloak topped with black bear fur speaks to his house's history as foresters and hunters. An arming sword with a swept crossguard hangs at his waist at all times aside form when he sleeps.

In his armor he is an imposing wall of steel draped with his bear cloak. The shining armor well maintained and wrought by the hands of a master armorer. Either astride his warhorse or on foot with estoc in hand he is a terrifying figure to the common soldier and trained professional as well. He seems to be a creature of battle itself when fully clad, eyes shadowed by the helm that bears the twin flaring wings of the hawk. Even his fair hair and eyes are hidden away behind that case of steel, seething and begging for blood, Lennart becomes someone else when in full armor. He surrenders enough of himself to The Thrill that he seems a new man. A worse man.

Personality:

Many in the world talk of nobility as something more than just a title, and, unfortunately, it is often just talk. Lennart never saw this to be the case though. He took to his lessons well and learned from his father to be a good man as much as he could while still being great. He is loyal, sometimes to a fault, and kind to all those who he can be. The pressures of being a leader sometimes force him to make hard calls that might end in the suffering of a few for the betterment of all. He does his best to make the decisions that have the greatest good but he feels the weight of such decisions greatly. Lennart does his best to extol the virtues of his rank and is generally thought of as a good man, if not somewhat harsh to those who have done wrong. He sees that all laws are executed properly and often has little room for interpretation, preferring a well written law to one that must have many exceptions because of its narrow scope. He also has an odd fascination with punishments, most of which are death or torture, carried out personally by him. He claims that it is to make the one who gave the sentence also the one to carry it out, but, the influence of The Thrill is strong even if he can not see it.

Nobility seems to be discarded when he takes to the field. Having participated in three wars since his adulthood, Lennart has always shown no mercy and often cruelty to those who stand against him. When the blade is draw and the banners called Lennart has always preferred to make the fight as unthinkable and brutal as possible. He sees that war is terrible and thus to make it so horrible the other side must relent has been his strategy in all conflicts. This has shown through even in his tournament performances, pairing great skill with arguably unnecessary aggression in order to quickly defeat his foes. Many neglect to invite Lennart to tournaments as he has a reputation for injuring his opponents.

Backstory:

Born as the first son of Graf Valter Derrot, Graf of the greater Decrut county. Lennart spent his early years in what might be expected of a noble child. He had many lessons, many servants, many teachers, chief among them, his father. Valter took great interest in his son growing up to be a man worthy of the titles he was given. Valter had been granted his lands for his service in the civil war that had raged in their kingdom and had proven himself a stalwart and impressive commander for the now king. The lands granted to him were vast and rich, being one of the northernmost trading ports in the kingdom. Lennart took this attention gratefully and loved his father immensely.

As he grew he began to train as a squire. He squired under the man who had taught him whole life and beamed with glory when he father took his training to the next level. Lennart learned all he could from his father about leadership, war, and nobility, excelling in all aspects. He squired for his father through a small rebellion led by a group of outlaws in the county, putting them to the sword with no mercy. It was a lesson. A lesson to all the people. The laws were made to be followed and to ignore them would bring down the wrath of their master. This lesson seemed to sink in well with the people, as the blood of the rebels soaked the ground crimson in the woodlands outside of Decrut City. Lennart learned it well as well, perhaps even hearing the first whispers of The Thrill even at such a young age.

Squire turned to knight and Lennart became a man. He was given the title of Vizegraf by his father and lands to oversee in the county. He did so with zeal. That lasted only a short time before he would be called alongside his father to the call of arms again. Their kingdom had been invaded by death worshiping madmen from the West, and, they answered their aggression with something worse. The armies of Decrut marched with the King's other bannermen and led the vanguard of many battles. The famed horsemanship and zeal of Decrut carried the armies to victory after victory against the insane masters and their slaves. They gave them their suicidal wish at the point of lance and estoc, sending them to their dead god with glee. The war did not end when the armies were repelled though. The King listened and Valter Derrot spoke reason. There would only be one way to stop these crazed cultists from striking again, they needed to be destroyed. Their war of defense turned to one of conquest and within two years the Kingdom had new lands, depopulated lands ripe for colonists.

Lennart played a great role, earning the respect of many men he fought beside on the vanguard. He gained great prestige in this conflict, having been the subject of a bard's song even that said he killed a hundred mad cultists alone, standing on the piling corpses of the enemy as they fell on his blade. In truth, Lennart does not remember that. In fact, he barely remembers the battle at all for The Thrill had seized him. No one speaks of the men he slew, not to him. They do not want to let him know a good third of the men who he had slain were his own.

Two more wars came and went. A rebellion of one of the Princes, a succession crisis when the king died unexpectedly from illness. Lennart had gained a reputation and he was given leadership roles in bth conflicts, seeing them through to the end and victory. In both cases he gained more stories, more songs. These were not all songs of glory for those escaped the town of Grest were few and now that ground his nothing but charred buildings and haunted ground. It had been blessed with the blood of innocents and no one sane would dare return. Glory, fame, and fear were Lennart's. He took them in hand and grew his own reputation and power as his father retreated from the public eye.

Little is known about why Valter disappeared. He had spent two years locked away in his keep, barely even speaking to his wife. Some say he screamed in the night, tormented by what he had done so long ago, some say he feared Lennart. The truth is unknown to anyone but Valter himself. What is known is that the Graf abandoned his county and left no instruction for those he left behind. Most of the responsibilies fell to Lennart as one might expect and he did not shrink from this new duty. He administered the lands for a year, grooming his son to lead as best he could as well. His family had grown well and took root in that bloodsoaked land, yet, Lennart was unsettled. His father had gone. His role model, his champion, dare he say, his god, had left them. He could not shake the feeling something was wrong, he needed answers. Lennart placed capable people in charge of his estates, most of the work being in the hands of his wife Katrin. He knew she had the heart of a good woman and a great leader, she would do well in his absence. He hoped he would not leave his lands long on this personal quest to find his father. Lennart has always been foolhardy.

Trackers, tavern keepers, and farseers were consulted as the knight rode on, searching for his lost father. His search brought him here, to this barren and foul land. His company was the thrum of The Thrill, always happy to keep his mind focused, always happy to remind him of how his father abandoned him and must pay. The Thrill had yet to taste of betrayal and patricide.

Strengths/Weaknesses:

Strengths:

Resolve: Lennart does not succumb to fear or adversity easily. His mind is like the steel he wields and he was taught his whole life that the foundation of a great man starts with the mind. He faces challenges willingly and never falters when he or his allies are in need. He will push himself to the limit and beyond his abilities if his mind is set, and, good long convincing him otherwise.

Knightly Training: There are warriors and soldiers, then, there are knights. Clad from head to foot in a work of art that makes a man nearly invincible to conventional arms and paired with decades of training and experience, Lennart is a force made manifest. Few aside form the knightly aristocracy can boast to have as much training or as expert instruction as Lennart. Tutored by master armsmen and experienced on the battlefield, few can match him a contest of arms who have not been similarly trained and groomed.

Nobility: An often overlooked advantage for many adventurers. The truth is, Lennart is nobility. He is afforded greater respect and privileges than the average traveler. Even if that is not the case because where he travels may not recognize his class, he still has access to vast amounts of money and credit that can be used for many things. While Lennart may not be an exceptionally high ranking noble he is still afforded many rights that would seem a dream to the common folk. This also makes him good around the aristocracy of many places, being well versed in 'grace' as well as procedure.

Weaknesses:

Overconfidence: All that training, grooming, money, and experience makes a man think himself close to the gods. Oh how foolish men can be.

Nobility: It is difficult to hide who you are when you wear the heraldry of your house proudly and act as though you are someone of import, even if you actually are. This can easily make someone a target and can often be disconcerting to those who have never interacted with someone of the noble class. This is made worse by the general disposition of those below your station being seen as tools or servants. One would think Lennart would have learned that titles mean nothing in the heat of battle.

Overt: Lennart has always spent his life in fair contests of arms, wits, and words. He is not well versed in proper skulduggery. He has no ability to sneak about, he is a poor liar, and often seeks a direct solution to problems that could be easily solved with a little more finesse.

Aspirational Powers/Abilities:

-Master at Arms: Lennart has trained with numerous weapons in many ways with teachers from all over the world. He puts this information and experience to work by quickly assessing the form and techniques of his opponents finding their mistakes and exploiting them.

-Death Before Defeat: The mind can weather strikes the body can not. Lennart fights on when his body screams for him to stop, supported by his mind and will rather than his body entirely. He fights when he should be struck down, until his will fails him or he is slain outright.

-The Hard Lesson: Letting The Thrill have its desire and giving in to the desire to make a foe into a lesson. Lennart slays a foe in such a gruesome display it gives pause even to creatures that perhaps might not normally feel fear, The Thrill leaking out into the world around him and touching the minds of his foes and allies alike, sowing terror.

-Vizegraf of Annihilation: The Thrill empowers Lennart's weapons to greater effect. The blades seem to tear at the flesh they strike, his fists crush bones, his lance tears down even those protected. A blow from Lennart empowered by The Trill is tore more than they should be, wounds bleed excessively, and armor seems to bend before even the sword blade.

-Seeing Red: The heart of battle, The Thrill given freedom. This is a hyper focused and yet indiscriminate battle trance that emphasizes the brutality and efficiency of each kill or wound. Best that allies keep their distance.

-Succor From Destruction: The Thrill grows powerful and dangerous when fed, pushing the power forward into the body of its host. With each kill The Thrill impart some of that power to Lennart making him faster, stronger, healing wounds.

(I can probably think of more but that gives you a good place to start and get the idea for where I wanna go here. :D)

Redacted (2/5)

I'm about to knight the frack out of this!

Kenja no Isan

Amahle Inkunziushaka Carcharhinus Albimarginatus The Seventh, Fourth Child of the Empress, Second Daughter

Name: Amahle Inkunziushaka Carcharhinus Albimarginatus The Seventh, Fourth Child of the Empress, Second Daughter
Aka: Amahle to her friends and equals, or, "Sevvie" if you happen to suicidal.
Race: Siren
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Height: 6'/ 7'3(Silver Tipped Form)
Weight: 170 lbs / 340 lbs
Continent: Amanzi
Appearance:

Amahle

In both of her forms Amahle is a rather tall or long being with a practiced grace and casual posture, as though nothing were of much concern at all for her. Her skin is a deep olive tinged with deep blue and green that shimmers to the surface when in direct light. She wears her black hair very long and often in ornate styles that sometimes take an hour or more to accomplish. She often wears hair ornaments and plenty of jewelry everywhere else. Her form always has a curvy and sensual appearance even while wearing half of a vicious silver shark. Her tail is long and sharp like the animal she shares heritage with. What clothing she does wear is often flowing and hardly concealing at all, preferring to wear as little as possible while still not breaking too many social norms. She has a marvelous form and loves to show it off, perhaps even more than some of her other kin.

Personality:

Born to Power:
Amahle isn't like the rest of you, she's born better. She is the height of cultivated and carefully chosen mates made manifest in a single mortal form made for power. This is something she has been told her whole life and feels it deeply. She is not callous with her power, but, she knows that she knows best. This unfortunately can make many people rub her the wrong way and she does the same to them. Her confidence can often make people uncomfortable and her quick commands even to those who she has never met before can seem to come from nowhere. This is not true however. She does indeed possess a great deal of sway and power in her Empire as she continues to solidify her claim on the throne, even more so than most of her older siblings. She acts as she is best for her subjects and sometimes that means that some must suffer for the greater good of the world. What are a few hundred or thousand dead in service of the whole world after all?

Born to Struggle:
Conflict and competition are the stock and trade of Amanzi. The succession of one Empress or Emperor to the next is a struggle to either eliminate the other contenders or make them swear their fealty to you. This has crafted generations of nobility that feed and conflict and competition. Amahle is not an outlyer. Here she may uphold the virtues of her people more than most. She relishes the chance to test herself against anyone worthy with all of her ability. This does however mean that she often sees challenges where their might not be any and can lead her to work against someone for no other reason than for the love of the struggle. It certainly doesn't help that each birth of the Empress is made of a number of children but only one is ever born. The children must fight to live, even in the womb.

Born to Learn:
Amahle took to her education with a ravenous appetite. This has led her to devour all new information she comes across. She devotes herself fully to learning new skills and information with the zeal of an addict finally finding their fix. This makes her knowledge base impressive at the least and her ability to master new skills incredible, assuming she finds the skill worth having and could not just be done better by someone else. The other part of being so damned smart is that you need to know that you can not do everything and Amahle excels in this regard. She is happy and more than willing to delegate a task to a worthy champion and has no problem doing so. In the end her servant achieving greatness only speaks well of her as well since she was canny enough to know they were worthy.

Born to Lash:
Words can cut deeper than any blade and Amahle keeps her tongue as sharp as a razor. She is quick with a retort and leaves few challenges unanswered. It is the place of the leader to instruct their subordinates and how can they learn if they are not corrected, and corrected in a memorable way? In her country she has a reputation for getting into a bit of trouble with her clever words to the right and wrong people. Her position, self assurance, and general feeling of invincibility often makes her somewhat thoughtless with her words and her barbs.

Born to Revel:
Life is glorious and is full of so many great things to experience, why limit yourself? Amahle has a hedonistic tendency drives many of her desires. She often seeks out new experiences and isn't one to knock something until she tries it. This of course can cause some problems for her when she parties a little too hard for most who might join her. Her disregard for the consequences for many of her more indulgent moments has made her somewhat of a slave to her desire for carnal satisfaction. The heir should know all about how to entertain, shouldn't they?

History:

Born in a stream of blood and bits of other dead unborn she came, given her grandmother's name as was her right as second born daughter, Amahle Inkunziushaka Carcharhinus Albimarginatus The Seventh entered the world. She had a four year disadvantage on her siblings but even as a young girl never wanted to let that stand in her way. In her earliest years in the care of maids and teachers she showed ravenous ambition and a competitive spirit. Even those among her earliest caretakers saw greatness in her and they made sure she remembered to who cared for her well in her weakest time. Amahle does remember them, and well.

Her early years were taken in the same way as her other siblings, lessons all day and sneaking about trying not to be caught all night. From their earliest years the children were pitted against each other and had a public ranking board for all of their accomplishments and failures. To one day be ruler is to always be in the sight of the people and they must learn this early. Amahle took to this treatment well even as a child. She made sure to do well and was praised for outperforming even most of her older siblings. She strove hard until she learned her first hard lesson. She was led into disaster when her eldest brother finally became fed up with her. He worked to sneak away payment for her teachers to grade her harshly and ensure she performed poorly. Amahle struggled against this as best she could. Of course, at the time she had real concept about using the system itself to work against someone and floundered under this treatment.

Position declined to near unimportance over the course of two years. It continued to do so until she realized that her eldest brother had been making it impossible for her to succeed. That moment of enlightenment changed Amahle entirely. She knew at that moment that being the best would never matter if someone could change how people saw you. From then on she did not just give her lessons all of her focus, instead focusing on finding exactly how to destroy her brother and all of those who were working against her.

Two years later her brother was found with a dead servant in his bed, raped brutally and set for all to see. This was Amahle's first victim and her first real lesson about The Game. She learned it well and turned it to her weapon. In the next year all those who once followed her brother were her's and she was still just a fifteen year old girl. She had learned the hard lessons fast and had a brutal streak that was terrifying to many who were asked to work against her. Fear and reward were her weapons and she was a master in waiting.

The next near decade of her life was spent in much the same way. She found plots against her, rooted them out like weeds and planted her own in their place. She sometimes let others succeed in order to give them the confidence to speak out so she would know who her foes really were. She was a beast of the court, stalking from one challenger to the next and shredding them. By her twenty fourth year she was in the top three for contenders to the throne with many allies both known and unknown. She did not discriminate against those who proved themselves useful and even managed to acquire an exiled bastard prince from Lucerna who had led a failed revolt as her bodyguard. She gave him lands, titles, and recognized him in her personal court. Many found this odd. The human man was loyal though and skilled in the combat as well as possessing and different mindset than many in Amanzi. While the outsider would never grow to great power he remained her stalwart supporter in all she did.

Weapon: None

Pet: The Silver Prince Valter Dowling, Exiled bastard brother King Dowling of Lucerna, personal attendant and bodyguard.

The Silver Prince

The Silver Prince, so named for he did not become the ruler and instead got only the silver prize. He did not sneer at this nickname though and instead wore it with pride as silver is pure and glimmering. Valter has been exiled for nearly a decade now and seems to have no desire to return to his kingdom to fight his brother again. His armies were eventually crushed and his narrative of repatriating the Elven slaves in order to foster Lucernan purity crushed under the mailed fist of his brother. He now serves as the dutiful honor-guard and first knight of Amahle, accompanying her wherever she goes and acting in her stead often.

Powers:

Name: Ebb and Flow
Tier: 1, can be increased
Effect:
Emotions are like the waves themselves, they ebb and flow with the influences of the world around them. The power of Water here is to push or pull on particular emotions in the target. This is often done by many Amanzia courtiers instinctively to varying effects. This spells allows the user to either push an emotion down making it less present in the target or targets or pull on an emotion making it more prominent. This is often done to provoke or suppress a desired effect in manipulations or on the battlefield. The higher the tier it is used at the more powerful the push or pull on the emotion is. This spell is usable while speaking any words at all and is accomplished with what often seems like casual hand gestures that might appear in conversation.

Name: Sea Breath
Tier: 1
Effect:
This is a spell learned by most in Amanzi. It allows the caster to bestow the glory of taking water into their lungs and breathing it like the air above the infinite sea. This is not often used in AMazi aside from those who wish to assist those who may come from other lands. It is simple and the effects last for eight hours. However, if this spell is not renewed and the subject is not able to purge the water from their lungs beforehand they will drown almost immediately as their lungs will be full of water. This spell also makes it impossible to breathe regular air and must be ended before the target can breathe normal air again.
Name: The Flowing Forge

Tier: 1, can be increased
Effect:
This spell uses the moisture in the air or a source of water and shapes it. It can form anything the user can imagine. The at first this spell can be used to create simple handheld objects like a knife or spoon but at higher tiers can be used to create larger and more complex shapes. These shapes can then be turned solid by freezing the water. The second part of this spell can be used alone to just freeze sources of liquid or cause frost to flutter in the air.

Name: The Ocean's Mind
Tier: 2
Effect:
This is a common spell used by many scholars in Amanzi. This spell calls on the depth and all consuming nature of the ocean to empower the caster's mind. This spell allows the consumption of massive amounts of information expending the memory greatly allowing caster to recall vast sums of text, spoken word, or diagrams with perfect accuracy. Most use this spell in preparation for a research project or a court meeting using it to recall the information the consume with perfect accuracy and notate it for later use. This spell usually lasts for about two hours and after that the caster must either cast it again in order to still remember the information as it slowly fades from their mind as it normally would, or, refer to notes. If this spell is continually cast it can often make someone quite mad as they are incapable of forgetting anything during the spell's effect and often if used for an entire day can result in resurgences of information long thought forgotten even after the spell is no longer in effect. This information is rarely useful and often traumatic, leaving the overzealous caster forced to recall something unwanted with perfect clarity. This spell is sometimes used on a torture victim in order to make their punishment more impacting.

Name: Rise, Water
Tier: 2
Effect:
A potent spell used mainly by warmages of the Amanzia armies. This spell ties the caster to all sources of liquid around them and allows them to maintain control over those sources as if they were extensions of their bodies, using them to cast spells, lash out at enemies throwing them off balance, and smashing torrents into foes. These sources of water must be external and offers no control over the blood or ingested liquids of those around them. This spell requires massive concentration and warmages trying to control the same source often have to engage in a battle of will to assert control. This spell is incredibly mana draining and the more sources controlled or larger the source drain mana even faster. Often this spell is used either in short bursts in order to inspire terror and disorganization in the enemy or as a last resort often resulting in the death of the mage as the spell hungrily eats away their mana and life force.

Name: Ire's Thorn
Tier: 2 or 3
Effect:
A standard and direct assault spell known to any mage in Amanzi who can cast it. This spell causes a number of thin darts of ice to form either from the moisture in the air or in the liquid sources around them and then streak toward a target or targets. These projectiles are not terribly damaging and often can not kill on their own, and, rather useless against solid armor. However, they are very painful and if all of the darts are aimed at one person they can be very debilitating or perhaps lethal. The more powerful mages, usually warmages, cast this spell at a higher level turning the darts to thin and magically hard blades, sending a hailstorm on daggers to targets with brutal effect.

Name: Medeina's Scorn
Tier: 2
Effect:
Created by the ancient Water Sage and named after her, this spell is included in all warmage training. This spell is normally used in combination with others as it has rather limited use otherwise. This spell targets a piece of ice that the cast can see and exert will over. The number of projectiles created increases with more mana spent. At base level it creates ten darts. They command this ice to shatter and it obeys. The ice explodes violently into tiny and razor sharp shards shower the surrounding area in painful tiny blades. This is a vary useful spell for interrupting the casting of other mages, causing chaos, and can be terrible when combined with Ire's Thorn.

Name: Water Elemental
Tier:1, can be increased
Effect:
A water elemental, useful for those with need of one and draining when used at high tiers. Creates a creature bound by the will of the caster that increases in size based on the amount of water in the area as well as the tier cast at.

Strengths:

Born to The Game: Amahle was born to family that hides the most brutal and cut throat behavior behind a facade of politeness and dignity. She took to this, well, like a fish to water. She is capable of telling lies and making ever herself believe them while also assuming a number of disparate personas in order to better communicate and get what she wants. She is incredibly manipulative and damned good at it.

Unrivaled Education: Being the child of the most powerful royal family in the world has its perks. Perhaps sometimes overlooked is that those children are taught by the best in the world at whatever it is they do. Amahle knows all of the common languages spoken in the world and many smaller dialects. She has had intensive training in logic, argumentation, magic, philosophy, and literature. There are few in the world who have had a better education than she has and most of them are her siblings.

The Most Important Person in the Room: While some might shy away from using their station as they might feel it diminishes their worth, not Amahle. She is quick to lean on her station and the power of her family as her armor and use it like a hammer to smash people who might stand against her. Getting what you want is often a matter of just letting the right people know you ARE the right person. Amahle does not hide from her position or deny her duties, she wields them like a spear and shield.

Weaknesses:

I Can Stop Anytime I want: To put it mildly, Amahle likes to indulge herself. She has a great deal of experience with many substances but she finds potions to be the most intoxicating, particularly mana potions. She uses them liberally during her training and just for fun. She is addicted to the stuff.

Important People Don't Carry Heavy Things: Being the Scion of an Empress makes one entitled to many servants, and, well, you don't have to do all that much. This fact and the simple fact that she is a rather powerful Mage means that Amahle has neglected her physical powers greatly. She is not strong, nor is she fast, or tough.

You Can Grovel, I Don't Mind: Amahle's opinion of herself is high, well, maybe high is not exactly right. She is pretty sure she the best person to have ever lived and ever will live. Her level of confidence borders on madness and she doesn't see any challenge that is too great for herself and no one is worthy of her attention, not really.

Other:

Cool Amahle Songs

Born Depressed - Drill Queen
Sorry, Not Sorry - Demi Lovato
The Haze - Device
African Military War Drums - The African Zulu Drummer

Aldin Salvar

Name: Alsin Salvar, Captain of The 15th Royal Grenadier Company, The Wild Geese
Race: Human
Age: 24
Gender:Male
Height: 5'11"
Weight:170lbs
Continent: Lucerna
Appearance:

Captain Aldin Salvar

The first born son of Duke Gregor Salvar and Countess Vivian Derrot, Aldin has inherited the grace of nobility. His features are sharp and focused, eyes bright and intelligent just like all in the Salvar line. However, his mother's fairer hair and slightly thinner features stand out and set him apart from his black haired and broader siblings. The other thing setting him apart is the peppering of shrapnel scars all along the right side of his body and missing right eye. His grenadier training and practice has made him quite a bit more fit and powerful than most other nobility in Lucerna. While most nobles prefer to have commissions in the cavalry to gain great glory and be on horseback, Aldin went the very opposite direction and took a position as a flank officer with some of the hardest fighting men in the army.

Aldin keeps his ear close to the beating heart of Lucernan fashion and culture, making sure he knows at least a passing amount about music, dance, and art. However, he loves fashion and goes to great lengths to make sure he always looks stylish and is at the cutting edge of whatever new styles might be in. Currently the more muted colors with simple calls to the House and Honors given are in style along with tightly fitting clothes coupled with a mantel and brimmed hat. The Green, blue, and silver of House Salvar is still represented on his clothing but only in small amounts and the hunting hawk of the Salvar crest rests on the back of his left shoulder on his thin mantel.

Personality:

The Salvar Duality: The Salvar family, both men and women are known well for a strange combination of disturbing stoicism as well as terrible passion. Aldin is no different. Learned from his father and some say in his very blood is the desire and fixation on showing little emotion or interest at all times. Of course, this doesn't mean the young man doesn't feel anything. Perhaps because of his stoic nature his suppressed passions burn hotter when they are roused forth.

The Young Captain: All officers in the Lucernan millitary are nobility who have been groomed to represent their families and win honor for their family on the field of honor. Well, of course, that is the idea. Many of them are actually just lazy despots and have a nasty habit of getting themselves and their charges killed. Aldin Salvar and his father do not think that is the right way to win honor and glory for the House and Crown. Instead, Aldin was raised and trained to be a fine commander and carry himself accordingly. Aldin leads from the front and leads by example. He expects to be obeyed when the chips are down and always has an air of authority around him as a side effect of being in a commanding position for nearly a decade. He does not expect his men or friends to do anything he would not do himself and makes damned sure that they can get out of a sticky situation with most of themselves intact. Aldin is loyal, caring, and respectful to all he commands and meets.

The Art Loving Terrible Artist: You just can't be good at everything you love. This is sadly true of Aldin. He is a terrible singer, musician, painter, poet, and not a very good dancer. While his body mechanics and footwork might be good in the dance of steel on steel, on the ballroom floor he's a bit of a mess. This has never discouraged him though and he carries on creating terrible art with the zeal of a fanatic. The closest he has come to anything resembling artistry was the one time he just adapted his cutting drill into a dance during a ball. Many found it quite interesting and some even joined in. Of course, any and all who were a fair hand with a saber saw what it was immediately and did a bit of damage to the young noble's reputation.

History:

Aldin's early life went by as one might expect from a child of a high born Duke like Gregor Salvar. He had all of his needs seen to easily and quickly while he played with servants, other noble children, and many adults that did not want him to play with them. He went to his lessons that taught him all he needed to know about how to be a good lord and man. Aldin spent a great deal of time with his father learning all he could about the administration of the Duchy of Korin. Along with administrating a province Aldin also learned a great deal from the many troop assessments and tactical briefings his father allowed him to attend. Soon enough, playing soldier and commander became the young boy's favorite games.

As time passed, Aldin was no longer alone. He now had siblings, siblings he was to inspire and take care of. At least that was what his father and mother told him. He had a brother four years younger than he was named Kyle, twin sisters five years his junior named Katrin and Greyala, and finally his youngest brother Bruskra, a whole decade younger than he. Aldin was happy to have brothers and sisters. He finally had his own little corp of soldiers under his command. His officers in his little war games. Many of them were less interested in what he wanted to do, but, he proved to be a charismatic little commander and often talked them into joining his assaults against the arranged forces of bushes, hedges, and, on a really good day, the armies of visiting noble children.

As childhood faded and adulthood came crashing down on the young Aldin he got his first real taste of battle. His first commission was at the age of fifteen and he was a simple Leftenant to The 15th Royal Grenadiers. What was expected to be a smooth and simple peace time position to get the young noble used to the rigors of soldiery, even as an officer, turned to hot war only three months after he arrived. His training barely completed the armies of the King were mobilized against the Silver Prince Valter and his slave freeing rebels.

Battles are not won by bullets, artillery, or clever moves. They are won on the points of blades and the screams of dying men. The Wild Geese were a grenadier company and they held the dubious honor of not only carrying hand held explosives but also the first to engage when a charge was called and often found themselves storming towns, buildings, and forts in order to seize back territory from the rebels. Leading his squad of grenadiers Aldin found his experience lacking greatly and he often relied on the advice and skill of his sergeants. He soaked up all he could from them and while he made the final calls he made sure to hear out the advice of the veterans under his command. Aldin was washed in the terrible experiences of war snapping into his magical talent as well as his talent as a commander and fighter. Three years of rebellion tore the young officer to shreds and rebuilt him into the hard man he now is today.

In the Battle of Crecial Fort The Wild Geese suffered their greatest casualties in any other battle. They were storming the walls of the fort along side the heavy Lucernan Knightly infantry, providing explosive support as well as shock assault force. Both of the companies were struck by three shells from friendly artillery that had been aimed slightly too low. The shells tore the companies to shreds in flashes of both mundane and magical light. Some of the casing on one of the shells struck only twenty feet from young Aldin and ruined the right side of his body. Only through the innate healing power of Aldin himself as well as the quick response of a nearby support unit of healers did he survive at all and with little lost ability. His right arm and leg still sometimes give him trouble and he has lost about half the hearing in his right ear. However, the only total loss he experienced was his right eye being utterly ruined by a fragment of the shell. Perhaps the strangest side effect of the shelling resulted in Aldin being the most senior officer left in the company. At what turned out to be the last serious engagement of the Silver Prince's War, Aldin became the Captain of The Wild Geese and his men accepted him with little reservation. They had seen him grown into a good officer, molded by the veterans around him and taking all of their lessons to heart. They saw that he cared about them and the victory of the mission in equal measure. In a single military blunder, Aldin Salvar became the youngest Captain of the esteemed grenadiers. A strange honor indeed.

Wars do not end when they are over though. What followed that last battle was two more years of marching about and cleaning up the fragments armies of The Silver Prince and those factions that had sprang up when he went into open revolt. Eventually, the kingdom was pacified and something like peace returned to the land. The war had left the kingdom weak and frail, many other kingdoms and duchies in Lucerna were looking to their borders for easy pickings. Things just were never going to calm down it seemed. Regardless of the situation though, all men need some time away from the front. The Wild Geese were given leave for the winter to go and see their families as well as replenish their losses. Aldin had been away from his family for half a decade and was happy to come home to Korin and Salvar Keep even if it just was for a single season.

He returned to find the whole keep a strange place compared to what he was used to. His father had fallen ill during the campaign and had been recovering very slowly. His brother Kyle had been without proper instruction during his formative years and now was a rude dandy at the age of fifteen who had a disturbing reputation for cruelty and sexual assault in regards to his servants and slaves. The House needed a strong hand and Aldin was there, so, he figured he would step into the shoes his father was too ill to fill at the moment. He decided to have a talk with his brother. This conversation did not go well. He found his brother to be a hot head, rude, and utterly unperceptive to reason. There seemed to be only one way to solve the situation. After getting his father's permission, he challenged his brother to a duel to the blood. If his brother won Aldin would renounce his name and claim, if he won, Kyle would need to leave the Keep, not to return and turn over the ownership of all his servants to Aldin. This was an interesting proposal indeed. Not only was Kyle an effective duelist as he had little else to do with his time aside from tormenting his favorite room servant Summer and practice the sword. If he won he would be the new heir to the Salvar House. He had everything to gain and was lured in by the tempting proposition.

The duel was not an easy one. Aldin was nearly at his brother's mercy a number of times before he finally found an opening in his younger brother's form. In truth, Aldin had never been a great duelist. He was better at fighting for real, on a battlefield, and with men all around him. The restrictions and rules changed everything. In the end though Aldin saw through his brother and struck out quickly. He drew his saber wickedly across the younger man's cheek giving him a matching scar like the one Kyle had decided to give Summer. The fight did not end there as his brother became enraged. He struck out at Aldin viciously, cutting him a number of times as he raged. Aldin could do little at first against the onslaught aside from keep his brother at bay. He had not want to kill his brother, but, the duel was over. With a sudden explosion of blinding light and a magically empowered blow to the gut, Aldin put his brother on the ground and had him hauled away.

Like that Aldin found himself in possession of twenty slaves and a hundred servants. He really had no need for that many, or any really, servants. So, he turned all of them over to his father's employ, all aside from Summer, the one who had suffered the most under the yolk of his cruel brother. He figured he could actually use an effective servant while he was on march. So, it all worked out. When the winter ended he departed from his House Keep and Korin, back to his company of rugged men. As far as he was concerned, Summer was part of the support staff of the company and treated her as if that was the case, demanding the same from his men. This wasn't much of a problem considering the majority of men he was around had never owned a slave or ever would own one. To them Summer was just a weird oddity and the worst any of them got was including her in some of their joking around.

The next four years were not a horror show like the rebellion was. There was conflict and skirmishes on the borders, but, nothing serious. The Wild Geese moved with the army during campaign season and returned home when the year was done. They won honor and fought in plenty of small battles, but, nothing serious. Despite all the mild conflict and lack serious war breaking out the tensions in the region were always growing. The kingdom wa son the brink of war again. It would be a terrible time to be called away from the company.

Weapon: Hanger and pistol(Normal) / Hanger, pistol, and grenades. Paired with a Lucernite breastplate (Battlefield gear)
Pet: Vixeres

HORSE!

Powers:

Name: Infusion of Life
Tier: 1-5
Description:
The most famous and heavily employed aspect of Light magic. This spell converts mana in life giving healing power closing wounds, binding bones, and curing illnesses. This power is impressive even at a low level but can be staggering in effect on the target or the caster themselves and higher tiers.

Name: Infusion of Vigor
Tier: 1-5
Description:
A spell that converts the power of Light into the essence of physical power in the body. This is a spell required to be a member of any flank company in the Lucernan armies. This spell increases the physical prowess of the caster by 50% at the first tier and doubles it's effectiveness with each tier(50, 100, 200, 400. 800 percent respectively). This spell increases the speed of movement, strength, and endurance of the caster making them an impressive athlete or combatant.

Name: Shimmer Shot
Tier: 2
Description:
A common spell used among soldiers in the Lucernan armies. Shimmer Shot is a solid ball of Light energy that is formed to the same bore as the weapon you wish to load. The ball is then rammed down the barrle as one would with a lead ball. When the shot is fired the ball explodes on impact causing a flash of bright light as well as heat and some force. When the bullet strikes a person it often combusts inside of the target causing serious damage and trauma to the target. If it strikes an object that the force of the bullet doesn't break right away it bursts into a dazzling flash of light that can be distracting or disorienting to unprepared foes especially in the dark.

Name: Illuminate
Tier: 1
Description:
Usually the first spell any mage learns. This is a simple binding of Light onto an object causing it glow brightly light a large candle or torch. The light cast by this binding can be any color the caster wishes and lasts for a few hours or more if the caster puts a little more mana into the casting.

Name: Eye Bite
Tier: 1
Description:
Another early spell that is practical for signaling as well as in combat. This spell causes a sudden burst of powerful light in the palm of the caster's hand. This light is always white and blindingly bright even in the middle of the sunlight on a clear day.

Name: Lingering Luminescence
Tier: 2
Description:
A spell favored by artists as well as many who want to leave messages or signals. This spell allows the caster to 'paint' images or words onto a surface that glow mildly with any color the caster wishes and can be a number of colors all at once. This is often used in art to make certain parts of the painting pop and stand out. It can of course be used to leave behind messages, warnings, or just provide a little bit of zazz to a sign.

Name: Focused Luminescence
Tier: 2
Description:
A spell favored heavily by craftsman as well as woodsmen. It creates a focused beam of light from the hand or finger of the caster that is capable of creating a great amount of focused heat lightly easily flammable objects alight. Effective for starting campfires, candles, fuses, heating a small spot, or annoying people, but, little else.

Name: Peer Beyond
Tier: 1
Description:
A spell very useful for any who need to move about in the dark or see through great deals of smoke. This spell fills the caster's eyes with Light power that enhances their vision making them able to see through the dark as though it was lit by candle light as well as making the obscuring smoke of a forge or battlefield light a light mist that is easily seen through. This spell makes the caster highly susceptible to bright lights though and is usually used with care and often goggles to protect the eyes from harm.

Strengths:
+First Class Martial Training
+Tactical Insight and Leadership
+Empathy
Weaknesses:
-Deception Inept
-Trusting
-Overprotective

Other:

Removed....

@Marrakt

Sounds killer! Looking forward to getting my man-at-arms on! :D

Removed....

You had my attention with one of the best TS Eliot poems out there. The rest was all just as good. Sign me up when this is going. Might actually get to finally play some knightly awesomeness in a bad bad world.

Quick question though, are we going to be using D&D rules and rolls for this as well since it is in a D&D world? I will just be forward and say I hope not. Forum table top is so clunky and D&D is a yucky system. :D

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

Murder & The Moon

A terrible and agonized scream broke the silence of the night. It was the third the men of the inn had heard in as many minutes. The Bracelli inn was completely silent. They dared not bring attention to themselves on this misty and cold night. They had all gathered for drinks and merriment. That had lasted for hours before the first scream. That first scream had been so strange and piercing that all of them had stopped, the juggler in the corner even missed his catch and his colorful balls fell to the floor. The second scream had made everyone realize that something was very wrong. They could feel it, hell, they could taste it in the air around them. By the third scream, they had all grabbed something to defend themselves with.

The old innkeep had a long cleaver, his wife a thick club. A few of the dandies in at the bar had been carrying curved ship-sabers and had those in hand. The local hunter was among them and had loaded his wheellock musket, the weapon normally only used to pick off deer or boar in the surrounding area. They were not used to this kind of thing here. They all had chosen to live in this more central part of Braceleth because it was quiet. They stayed away from the cities as much as they could. Apparently the madmen who roamed the cities at night had come here too. There were a number of other men in the main room of the inn who had matchlock muskets or knives, ready for whatever had killed those people to come through the door.

Of course, none of them actually wanted anything to come through the door at all. They had extinguished all but a single lantern that sat on the bar to hopefully make it seem like there was no one here at all. They huddled, waiting, hoping, panic creeping ever closer as they waited in the total silence of the inn. Total silence aside from the low sobbing and praying from one of the whores who worked out of the inn.

Their silence was violated by the sound of a heavy step on the deck of the inn. The hollow thunk of a hard riding boot and the tired groan of the old planks. Whoever was out there was damned heavy. “That bastard has armor on.” one of the saber armed sailors whispered to no one in particular,. That assessment did not help the panic of the waiting citizens. They had seven guns between them, more than enough to make short work of even a man in full plate armor, but, the fact someone was wearing armor changed things. What if he was not alone? What if this was some kind of raid? Their minds all shattered at once as the door slowly creaked open, revealing their stalker.

He was not a man in armor, nor was he a man at all, not really. He was far too tall to be a man, twice the height of even the largest of any man these people had seen. His long and dripping form ducked low, slipping into the inn with a casual gait. The floor groaned in protest as his weight settled on it. As he slid into the room it became clear what killed the people outside. His hand clasped an ax dripping with blood that was a monster in it’s own right. They all looked at it, feeling their blood turn cold as their heart rate pounded ever harder. The sound the ax made as it moved the air was like the fangs of some great serpent scratching against old rusty steel. They did not know this, but, they all thought it sounded like exactly the same thing. The people did also not stop to think of how an ax stirring the air could make any sound at all. The man who held the ax was a giant in a long blood stain coat with a tattered gray scarf around his neck. On his head sat a wide brimmed traveler’s hat and he had what looked like bandages over his eyes.

The room was still as everyone looked at the grinning monster before them. A hiss escaped the giant’s mouth as it opened and he spoke, his voice seeming to echo in their minds and sound accented and yet still very familiar, “How is your local surgeon?”
A rattle of muskets was his only reply as everyone with a gun in the room opened fire on the giant mad man. The bullets tore into him and he staggered back for only a second before howling with words that were mostly laughter, “APPARENTLY HE’S GREAT!”
The next minute was a blur of madness. After that first volley of muskets there was no more resistance. The giant swept through them like a scythe through wheat. His ax flashed, his body turned, his hands snapped out, his teeth crushed throats. In a time somewhere between a few seconds and an eternity, everyone was dead and the floor was slick with spilled blood. There was only one person left, blessed with blood, though, a person would be a very poor description. That mad man was Murder. He was Sleeth Rethrah, and he killed them all for a purpose.
He slammed his ax down, burying it in the hard floor with casual ease. He snapped his hands upward, fingers brushing the ceiling of the main room. His words came out quick and in a tongue that almost none of his people would know. He spoke the language of the far off people of the Moon Goddess, he spoke in feverish devotion. He dedicated the blood letting and all their bodies to the great Lady of the Full Face. He blessed her with this sacrifice, called her name six times, and then demanded her presence. With that done, he turned toward the hearth of the inn and snapped his hands toward it, spraying the embers with the blood of the fallen. The embers burst to life in sanguine flames. “Come now.” he whispered in a sultry tone, “Do not leave me alone on this night when I have such need of interesting company and plenty to talk with you about.” He grinned a blind and blood stained grin at the roaring flames, waiting for his ‘sister’ to appear.

At the time the Goddess had felt the request for her presence, or rather the demand for it, she had been enjoying a meal of hearts and a few things of fruit. Letting out an annoyed groan she stood to her full height, topping out at 15 feet unless you counted the Grand set of antlers on her head that added about a foot and a half to her height. “You better not be wasting my time,” she growled to no one in particular as she made her way to the portal that The god of Knowledge made available to the others. It was strange considering the summons for her had not come from her own domain, but the domain of another, and the sacrifice had been substantial.

When she finally appeared in the tavern, she looked around with a giddy expression on her face at the amount of blood that was splattered around the building. “Aaaah, Murder,” Meztliyoatl purred at the sight of the other God, “What can I do for you this fine and bloody evening?” Her eyes twinkled with amusement as the very blood Sleeth had spilled for her began to move towards her, as if her presence called to it. The last time she had seen this much bloodshed for her, it had been an entire village killed because a foolish man thought he could get her to do what he wanted. Well, he had been disappointed when she simply ripped the heart out of his chest and ate it.

“You know, this slaughter is lovely, I think the red improves on the decor immensely,” she told the other God, “Though it won’t be here long enough to make a lasting impression I’m afraid.” She let out a sigh before moving closer to the shorter God, one of her hands idly spinning one of the many knives she carried with her. If she did not have her Sword or her Bow, she at least had a knife to keep her hands amused when she wasn’t tearing people limb from limb.

“We are blessed with blood indeed.” Sleeth Rethrah said with reverence as the knife twirling goddess came closer. He shook out his bandaged hands slightly, splattering some of the blood from his hands to the floor by her feet. The blood that coated his clothing and body was already swirling down his form and to the floor to reach the power he had dedicated it to. “Shall we take a step outside into the moonlight?” he said, his face still pulled into a wild grin, inhumanly large, “I think this building is far too small to give proper clearance for your impressive rack.”he chuckled, his blind eyes scanning her briefly before he moved to the side and ducked out of the inn and out into the full moon’s glow.

He walked forward to the middle of the empty cobblestone street, raising his hands palm up as if feeling the light that was bathing him. He had left his ax in the inn and would need to go back to get it later, but, he did not think he would need it during this conversation, not with his friend. “I unfortunately called you out here for something more than a pleasant stroll in your majestic light, Meztilyoatl.” he said, dropping his arms to his side making his great coat flutter slightly, “There are great shadows starting to whirl around us. Don’t you feel it? Smell it?” he turned to face her, hissing breath and running his tongue out into the air, steam puffing from his hot breath, “Taste it?”

The wild Goddess laughed at the God’s words, the sound two toned, half crazed yet completely sane all at once. “There are always things stirring in the night when it comes to the Gods my dear friend,” she said with a smile, “Though this one seems far more uppity I would think.” Now outside the Tavern, she was able to stand up to her full height, the last of the sacrificial blood sinking into her skin and pulling out a very pleased sigh. Now that she was not hunched over, she reached up and ran her fingers over her own antlers, happy that they were out enjoying the light of the very thing that represented her. “Come now, as fun as your riddles can be you know how I get when I’m interrupted from a meal, I was enjoying some nice hearts and some papaya.”

“Papaya?” Sleeth said, tilting his head in a disbelieving manner, “Now, what happened to the woman I knew a millenia ago? I think your words were, ‘I would never sully my heavenly tongue with something that didn’t bleed when you cut it.’ “ he quoted, well misquoted heavily, a statement she had made to him once when they had eaten together and he had brought some of his people’s famous grapes. Of course, he had pointed out they bled fruit blood and even had skin you could pierce. He had even offer wine to her as it was perhaps the best extrapolation of ‘fruit blood’ he could think of. Needless to say, the picnic had been a disaster for the nearby tribe.

“Fruit aside,” Sleeth said, his grin returning just as suddenly as it had left his face, “This is the time, my lovely. I know you know it.” he said, turning and starting to stroll down the road in the moonlight, all the population of the dark village behind locked doors and cowering after so much sound of slaughter. “The heavens are divided, they are trying to cling to something and they will act like burrs from a prickle plant and stick to whatever coat tails drag near them and look fancy enough.” He turned his blind face toward her slightly, seeing her in the pulsing vision that he possessed. It was hardly vision at all. It was merely a removal of all visual impairment, but, not vision at all. He saw by knowing and knew what he saw only by memory. ”We can’t let someone waltz in and steal the throne for themselves, putting little rules and restrictions on us. You know if that glowing orb in the sky on the other side of the night gets his way you and I are both going to find ourselves on the wrong side of a trial.” his grin widened, if that was even possible, “Besides, I bet it is going to get really bloody really soon.”

A hissing noise passed her clenched teeth at the hint towards Telios, a God she tolerated because his existence was necessary, but she denied his sun from her Domain. “No one deserves to sit in that Throne,” she growled out, “No one should rule above us Gods, I much rather be left to my own devices and murder as I please. It’s not like I bother others with it as I do so, they are often bandits or evil doers anyway… a few children here or there.” She grinned at Sleeth, her own smile rather large as well, showing insanely sharp fangs. Deer like ears swiveled a bit as she listened to the hushed and terrified voices behind closed doors. She loved fear, thrived in it in a similar way to the blood offerings though it gave her no power. “I will never give anyone my Center of power.”

Sleeth nodded to her, turning toward her and stopping his walk. His hat brim bobbed as he did so. “Exactly!” he said excitedly, pointing to her and then clapping his large cloth wrapped hands together, “You would be the one to understand best. We do not need a king or queen of the gods. What is a king to a God?” he gestured outward and took a few steps backward, “Why would we gods not just meet and come to a consensus every hundred years or so? Establish what needs to be done and handle our business as equals? Are we not all Heavenly and divine after all?” he raised his hands toward her, head tilting in question as if he needed her confirmation on that point. “This is why I called you here, my lovely, this is what I wanted to talk about.” he said, white teeth gleaming in the night as if they were possessed of an inner light of their own.

“I agree, a council would be best for everyone, no one needs another breathing down their necks, I certainly don’t,” she stated calmly, “My power relies so heavily on sacrifices of blood and I feel they would dwindle in numbers if there is a King or a Queen, they may simply fear that I would become too powerful. Though I doubt anyone could become more powerful than the Daughter of Life and War, have you spoken to her about this? She seems like a smart child, and you seem to like her well enough as she does you.” The antlered female moved closer to the God of Murder and playfully shoved him, it was a game she enjoyed playing considering her violent tendencies and that the man before her knew just how to play her games.

Sleeth took a step back at the shove, bracing himself. It was powerful enough to probably push a mortal’s arm right out of their socket and throw them to the earth with shattering force. To them, it was merely a bit of fun. “OH,” he said, his voice rumbling with a hint of mad giggles, “I talked with her a great deal when we were trying not to fight in the war. We talked far more than I think many people realize. I even sent my daughter to her as an envoy to her domain.” he brought himself forward suddenly and pushed Meztliyoatl back with his right hand. He pushed much harder than she did and centered his hand on her hip, trying to disturb her center of balance as he did so. “I think she will see reason when the cards start to fall over the whole world. When all the gods start to tip their hands a little too far.”

A maddened giggle escaped the animalistic Goddess as Sleeth shoved her back, causing her to have to stumble back a few inches before she outright tackled the man. She loved playing such games with him, no other god ever dared partake in her games, other than the War Goddess. In fact, she and Koritomo often helded mock wars, constantly practicing against one another just for the fun. Sleeth however, oh no, this God wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty with Meztliyoatl was in the mood for a little hand to hand combat. She never moved to kill him, she cared far too much for the God she had grown close to in the years since he had been ‘created’. Old as she may be, she had been extremely pleased to see there was a god who enjoyed killing as much as she did.

Sleeth was caught mostly off guard by her sudden aggression and was tackled right to the ground. He landed on his back, the wind flying out of him and she landed atop him. He let out a breathless howl of laughter and started immediately to find purchase on her, grabbing her by the arm with one hand and the horns with the other, torquing her to the side, reversing her pin quickly. He knelt slightly to the side of her, his knee on her ribs trying to hold her down. He removed his hand from her arm and raised it up to strike at her while he still held her antler with his other. He was striking at her face, but, not hard enough to really hurt her. He always loved it when she showed up and wanted to brawl a bit. He sometimes thought about trying to kill her, but, then he would probably get bored and she was far too much fun to ever put an end to.

Finding herself beneath him now, she used one hand to grab onto the fist he was trying to punch her with, her grip firm but not enough to break anything. The two sometimes found themselves being far more violent with one another, sometimes close to killing each other but never nothing they could not come back from. Jerking her head to the side a bit, she tried to punch him herself, aiming for the side of his ribs as she did so, eyes shining with glee. No one was able to satisfy her love for fighting the way he did, she always looked forward to their time together. Either they were fighting one another, or simply enjoying the slaughter of others together, a match made in hell with their Friendship.

The Murder God let out and huff of impact as her fist struck home in his ribs. He laughed as if she was telling him a rather amusing joke before he jerked the arm she had caught backward. He removed the arm only, his fist staying clasped in her hand, severed at the wrist. The bandages that held his hands on were still wrapped about the fist she was holding that now started to wriggle madly in her grip. He lifted the arm and the fell to the side, bringing his elbow and body down on top of her, aiming for her stomach with his sudden elbow drop. To do so he had to release his hold on her antler, but, that was fine. He liked to let her have control of her head most of the time when they fought. Sometimes she tried to, and succeeded at, goring him with those marvelous horns.

Her breath came out on a squeak, which was then followed up by a series of coughs, “I hate your hands sometimes,” she gasped out, pushing Sleeth off of her so she could roll to her feet, throwing his hand at his face. On the off chance she ever hit him with it, she found it utterly hilarious that she had basically made him hit himself. Her ears pinning back as she crouched down a bit, ready for a charge if it were to come, but also curious as to what would happen now that the two were no longer wrapped up with one another on the ground. Sometimes she entertained certain thoughts when it came to the God, but more often than not she simply enjoyed fighting him.
He caught his hand in his teeth like a dog having a ball thrown at it. He bit into the meaty side of the hand and then pushed his stump back into the empty wrist. He wrapped the bandage back up with his other hand and then released his grip on the strange hand with his teeth. He laughed. A deep and rumbling sound as she readied herself for a charge. He flexed his fingers a few times and then lowered his own stance. “You don’t hate my hands.” he said in a breathy whisper, “You know you can’t get enough of my little tricks.” he circled to the right slowly, eyeing her with missing eyes and swaying his head back and forth slightly, “Why don’t we bless this village with blood?” he suggested, his grin widening, “A little party, just the two of us to put our plans into something like an official capacity. We bless this whole village, every last one of them. We dedicate all the children to you, all the elderly to me, and then we split the rest down the middle. If it doesn’t work out even we can just dedicate the last one to our dear fallen father and laugh until the sun comes up.” he feinted toward her for one step and giggled again, “What do you say, my lovely?”

“Ooooooh, you know just how to get this little heart of mine pumping,” she said on her own giggle, “A God after my own heart my Dear Sleeth.” She winked at him before clapping her hands together and looking around the village, “Let us bless this village with blood, the sweet life sustenance that every mortal has coursing through their veins.” She tackled Sleeth once more, only this time it was with a hug as she nuzzled the God’s neck and giggled maniacally, oh how much fun the two were about to have.

He held her in his arms and spun as she hugged him. She was taller than he was but if he spun fast enough it still would make her feet spin out a little. He let her go after a few rotations and laughed like a loon. Suddenly, he snapped his head forward toward her and then looked around the empty streets from house to house. “Let’s begin.” he hissed with anticipation. The air seemed to vibrate with excitement between the two of them. “No godly weapons. We do this the old-old-old-old fashioned way.” he giggled. Without another word, he darted to the side, smashing through the first door he could, shattering it to splinters. The poor family in that house awoke only for a moment. They awoke just long enough to see the face that had guided their culture and lives. They awoke long enough to feel the fear, pain, and sorrow of brutality. The village was blessed by the two Divines. No one survived. No great loss.

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

Azah, Highest Judge, Goddess of Justice

Name: Azah
Titles: Highest Judge, Shield of the Innocent, The Grand Arbiter, Abolisher of Lies

Gender: Female, does not change genders or her form.

Appearance:

Azah

Azah stands glorious in all she does. Her lithe and powerful fourteen foot frame is framed by massive wings twenty feet feet long each, giving her an imposing forty foot wingspan. The wings are a brilliant white and seem to reflect light more than they naturally should. She wears a flowing dark blue gown beneath her glittering silver armor. A celestial halo hovers behind her head with gleaming runes outlining the Mandate of Heaven.

Personality:

Azah values honesty and directness is everything she does and expects from those around her. While lying to her is nearly impossible, even for some of the Gods if they feel a connection to the concept of justice, it still can be done. Azah does understand that many do not share this idea with her though. While she is an idealist she recognizes the fact that lies exist. Instead of assuming all tell the truth she endeavors to root out the real facts as much as she can. Taking a keen interest in what people say and how they act. Azah is often much more of a listener than a speaker, keeping silent until she knows exactly what she needs to say. Her words carry much weight when she does chose to speak though and entreats a certainty in all her statements as if they were law.

The Highest Judge is often thought of as a humorless Goddess, but, this is not entirely true. While she does enjoy the honest jests and games of many beings she has a tendency to not express that feeling openly, often only showing a hint of amusement in her eyes as the only outward sign. She holds all of her emotions deeply in check at all times, analyzing each with the mind of a scholar before considering their reason and value. While she feels just as deeply as any other she keeps them hidden to preserve her unbiased appearance. This is not just a show however, when she does feel something it is taken into account like any other piece of evidence.

Once a course of action is undertaken by Justice she can be utterly implacable in its execution. She is not swayed once her mind is made up. Only those who bring new information to the table that is valuable could have a hope of changing her course. Resolute action is her specialty, however, she often is somewhat slow to act in many cases. Each action requires careful consideration to make sure it is the right course after all.

Major Domain: Justice

Minor Domains: Truth and Punishment

Weaknesses:

No One is Above Justice:
Azah is held by a power greater than herself to the Court of Heavenly Truth. She can not lie, break any oaths given, break the law, or harm anyone who has not been found guilty of crimes against the laws of men they are beholden to or the heavens. She can not partake in the actions of spies, assassins, or thieves nor can she abide them to go on without judgement. If she knows of a plot that is against the Mandate of Heaven, she must oppose it, even if that means working against her allies who might not be so steadfast in their morals.

Your Avatar:

Raqiel, First Among Seraphs, The Heavenly Warden

Raqiel was made as the greatest and most powerful of all of Azah's creations and he speaks and acts with her will as his own. The gargantuan winged knight stands nearly three hundred feet tall and soars through the heavens on wings of blinding light. In his golden gauntleted hand he grips a spear identical to Judgement in all respects other than being five hundred feet in length and massive in size. Raqiel is powered by the souls of those who have been found guilty in the courts of Azah and her lower judges, as well as any who wish to have their prisoners interned in The Enclave. Raqiel's powers are just like those of his Heaven Master but only to a lesser degree. They do not affect the children of Ephra nor do they strike those other being with such power as his master wields. Nevertheless, the massive size and implacable strength of The Heavenly Warden make him a force terrible and awesome.

Stance: Azah does not want to be the new master of the Gods, however, she knows that someone must sit the throne and is unsure if any are worthy aside from herself. A higher order must be established. At the moment she has thrown her support behind the most worthy heir, Telios.

Loyalty During the Rebellion: Ephra, the rightful King. All who did not support him are rebels.

Center of Power:
The Censure of Truth: A two-fist size ball on the end of a long chain that Azah always carries. The Censure has small holes in its dull metal surface that constantly produce a thin gray smoke. This smoke smells like savory woods and herbs, calming and pleasant to all who are innocent of crimes. To those who have committed crimes against law or heaven find the smell disturbing and repulsive., repelled by the very air they breathe, finding it choking.

Relations:
Allies:
Telios, The Sun God
Legio, The God of Mankind

Friendly:
Koritomo, Goddess of War
X, God of Knowledge
Anyone who supported Ephra in the Civil War

Neutral:
Any who remained neutral in the Civil War (With some exceptions)

Unfriendly:
Typhonne, Goddess of Storms (Remained neutral but was inconsistent)

Hostile:
Sleeth Rethrah, God of Murder
Josarae, Goddess of Corruption
Any who supported War in the Civil War

Powers:

The Highest Judge:
Azah hears the cases of any who wish her to do so and makes the proper judgement. In order for her to do this she needs to know all laws from everywhere. Her aspect of Justice fills her mind with any changes in the laws of all lands as soon as they happen. She can cite cases from those lands' courts with no issue and with perfect accuracy. The mind of Justice never needs to be informed of the laws, for, she knows them better than perhaps even those who crafted them.

Mandate of Truth:
Before The Highest Judge, there is no deception or hiding. All illusions melt away as she looks on them, revealed to all. All lies choke in the mouths of those who would speak them and can not be uttered. All forms that are not natural to those who take them revolt and twist back to their normal shape, even gods being forced to their natural form before her. Those creatures twisted by corruption or the influence of the wild are not turned back as those forms have become the truth of those being but anything that willing has changed is subject to this force. Those who have conducted themselves innocently and followed the laws of their lands and Heaven see her as a shining symbol of glory and power. Those who have committed crimes feel fear and regret swell in their minds to the proportion of their crimes. The worst of which may throw themselves to the ground and beg for the mercy of Heaven if their will is less than divine.

Mandate of Punishment:
Those who have broken laws are clear to the eyes of The Abolisher of Lies. She sees through them to their crimes and with a proclamation of judgement, they are humbled before her Justice. Azah may find one affected negatively by The Mandate of Truth and announce her judgement on them. The worse the crimes they have committed, the worse the effect. At its mildest this results in tremors of fear and physical weakness as well as the clouding of them mind. At its worst this Mandate reduces the target to screaming heap of nothing but pain and guilt. They writhe on the ground incapable of any speech but to demand their own destruction in hopes of ending the torment. This Mandate is not all powerful and has no effect on divine foes or their avatars but it can reduce an army of dark hearted creatures to nothing more than a pile of pain and screams before the power of Justice.

Mandate of Mercy:
The innocent have nothing to fear and those who aid Justice find her mercy is infinite. With a proclamation of Mercy all of those who fight on behalf of Justice find themselves absolved of what they might have done, at least for now. They are immune to the Mandate of Truth for a time and feel the power of Justice course through them. They fight with a zeal and physicality that only an ideal could have. They feel no pain in the face of their enemies and strike with great force and speed.

Mandate of Protection:
Justice does not only smite the wicked, it protects those who are on the side of Justice. With a word Azah can bind the protection of Justice from one person to one of her servants. When this is done any wounds or suffering that would befall the first is instead inflicted on the second. If the protected individual would be slice in two, instead the servant of Justice is. It is the way of Justice to protect those who need it, even at the cost of life.

Godly Equipment:

Judgement:
The great golden spear of The Grand Arbitrator. This twenty foot spear shines with the golden light of truth and gleams with ancient heavenly runes. An identical spear is carried by Raqiel but does not have the great power this holy weapon does. Judgement can not harm anyone who has not committed any crime and passes through them as though they were made of smoke. However, anyone struck solidly with this lance of Heavenly power is filled with light, their eyes burning golden for a second before their very essence is committed to oblivion. Even a God struck with this powerful weapon who has committed offense to the Mandate of Heaven finds themselves destroyed, for, no one is above justice. When this spear is thrown and someone is suffering from the Mandate of Punishment, Azah can direct the spear to them, flying unerringly to their heart or focus of energy. She can call back the spear with a thought, Judgement returning to her hands with a golden flash.

Any slain by this heavenly lance are destroyed but they do not find themselves committed to the underworld as one might expect. Instead, their souls are suddenly sat in a blinding white courtroom with one one judge sitting before them. The court is Heaven's Trial, and the judge, is Azah. This court happens seemingly in a place removed from time and takes no effort on the part of Azah. Before this final judgement there are only two options: Confess one's sins in honesty and throw yourself on the mercy of The Heavenly Trial, or, stand by your crimes, weasel and deny, lie. For those who confess and ask for mercy it is given. Their souls are sent to Raqiel for half of the normal sentence before they are released back to the energy of the world and perhaps to reincarnate if such a thing is for them. For those who do not, they are bound to the form of Raqiel forever, their energy powering the Avatar of Justice for all time.

Halo of The Highest Judge:
This rune etched halo hovers just over and behind the head of Azah at all times. It is her symbol of office just as much as her Center of Power is. When Azah speaks her Mandates the runes pulse with power and flare bright gold. As she finishes these proclamations the air behind her shines bright with golden light and twelve of her Holy Seraphs spill forth to aid her in her judgement.

Armor of Innocence:
Clad in shimmering silver plated armor of divine metal hovers The Shield of Innocence. The armor keeps the form of Azah safe from the unjust. The metal repels the weapons and bodies of those who have violated the law of Heaven or Earth, the guilty finding the armor utterly impervious to their attacks. The armor covers her torso and arms, gleaming with inner light.

Demi Gods: None

Name of your Land:
Mt. Wern (The Enclave)

Lands:

Mt. Wern is a tower peak that is the second tallest in the Sun God's range. The mountain itself starts as an alpine forest and slowly fades into the pure stone, scrub, and snow peak. The mountain though is perhaps the most normal of the lands and is in fact the only part of the lands. The Enclave is built into the slopes of the mountain from base to summit. The buildings of the massive City of Wern make up the most distinguishing features of the lands. Shelves of the mountain have been carved out and standing on them are large vertical towers that stand up like barbs along the sides of the rocky face. Topping the summit of the massive peak is the Crown of Wern. A giant tower stabbing up from the very top of the mountain, gleaming white in the light of day and night.

People:
The closest thing to naturally occuring people to The Enclave are The Sun Folk as Mt. Wern resides in the lands of the Sun God. However, there are others who live there. Some are migrants who have come to the slopes of the magestic peak to live in a just and nearly crimeless society. There are small pockets of humans and other races living in the great towers of The Enclave, but, always small in number.

The greatest portion of the population are The Heavenly Host. These beings are created from the will and power of Azah herself and are lacking in true will. They each are born into a Choir that determines what roles they will fulfill in The Enclave and execute that purpose to the best of their rather impressive ability. They have the freedom to chose what they do in their free time, if they have any, and can form relationships with other members of the Choir they live in or other races. Sometimes these relationships with other races result in a physical union. The children of these unions result in Nephilem, half Host and half of the other race. These hybrid children seem to inherit all of the best features and qualities of both parents and races with almost no drawbacks. They stand tall and physically powerful, wings sprouting from their back. They have a will of their own, not bound to Azah, however, they find it difficult to shake an overpowering desire to champion justice anywhere they go and often find themselves on literal crusades for just causes as if guided by instinct.

The last demographic of The Enclave are The Interned. A large population of both all those who have been tried and found guilty in the Courts of Heaven. These people have had their souls temporarily interned in the nexus of Raqiel, The Heavenly Warden, for a set period of time. Their mindless bodies are not put to waste though during their purifying stay in the heart of The First Among Seraphs. The Interned take orders from any member of the Host and work as servants to The Host in mundane tasks that require simple or no supervision. When The Interned's sentence has been served their spirits are returned to their body and then they may chose to return to their homes in other lands or stay if they wish. Many reformed Interned make up the non-Host population.

Culture:
The culture of The Enclave is less a society and more a complicated and powerful machine. Every aspect of The Enclave is created for the purpose of seeking and administering justice and law. Anyone in the world can petition The Enclave to have their case heard. They do chose to hear the cases petitioned if there is ample reason why there might not be a fair case in the land the crime took place. This can also be done as an appeal if such a thing is allowed by the land where the criminal is interned. The people who are not members of The Host who live there serve as assistants to The Host in their duties or as those in charge of keeping the mortal population alive with the limited space and resources of The Enclave.

Technology: Varies based on the people who live in The Enclave. Usually high medieval.

Capital:
The Enclave:
The Enclave is the name of the city that dominates the slopes and peak of Mt Wern. There are no other cities on Mt. Wern and instead it is all part of the super structure of The Enclave. The city is a system of spires and surrounding towers that are connected by small walkways. Most of the towers actually do not have any stairs in the building at all as most of the inhabitants of The Enclave are capable of flight. There are often systems of pullies operated by The Interned. The outside of the towers are covered with balcony gardens set up for aesthetics or food for the few mortals who live in The Enclave. Everything in the city is a stark and shining white trimmed with golds and silvers.

The pinnacle of the city is The Heavenly Court. The Heavenly Court is inhabited by only the highest tier of The Host and the interned. They wander and work in the spire at the summit of Mt Wern, the spire punching upwards to the clouds above. The Heavenly Courtroom itself sits at the top of the spire itself, open to the swirling air and freezing wind. It is here that Azah herself sits as judge for the highest of crimes and greatest of questions. Each of the other spires on Mt Wern are smaller recreations of The Heavenly Court, but, each is devoted to the laws and trials of each individual Godly domain. The aesthetic of each lesser tower is designed after the culture of the domain; plants, art, and architecture all inspired by the domain they are devoted to.At the top of each of these lesser towers sits a court to hear any and all who wold have the High Court hear their case. These lesser courts are judged by The Principal Choir of The Host.

Beings:

The Host:
The Heavenly Host are all beings made by the mind and will of Azah herself. They are each created for a purpose at their creation with only limited free will beyond that. They all have wings and stand at least nine feet tall and up to fifteen feet tall. The size and number of wings directly denote the Choir each of them belong to.

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

Azah, The Highest Judge

Name: Azah
Titles: Highest Judge, Shield of the Innocent, The Grand Arbiter, Abolisher of Lies

Gender: Female, does not change genders or her form.

Appearance:

Azah

Azah stands glorious in all she does. Her lithe and powerful fourteen foot frame is framed by massive wings twenty feet feet long each, giving her an imposing forty foot wingspan. The wings are a brilliant white and seem to reflect light more than they naturally should. She wears a flowing dark blue gown beneath her glittering silver armor. A celestial halo hovers behind her head with gleaming runes outlining the Mandate of Heaven.

Personality:

Azah values honesty and directness is everything she does and expects from those around her. While lying to her is nearly impossible, even for some of the Gods if they feel a connection to the concept of justice, it still can be done. Azah does understand that many do not share this idea with her though. While she is an idealist she recognizes the fact that lies exist. Instead of assuming all tell the truth she endeavors to root out the real facts as much as she can. Taking a keen interest in what people say and how they act. Azah is often much more of a listener than a speaker, keeping silent until she knows exactly what she needs to say. Her words carry much weight when she does chose to speak though and entreats a certainty in all her statements as if they were law.

The Highest Judge is often thought of as a humorless Goddess, but, this is not entirely true. While she does enjoy the honest jests and games of many beings she has a tendency to not express that feeling openly, often only showing a hint of amusement in her eyes as the only outward sign. She holds all of her emotions deeply in check at all times, analyzing each with the mind of a scholar before considering their reason and value. While she feels just as deeply as any other she keeps them hidden to preserve her unbiased appearance. This is not just a show however, when she does feel something it is taken into account like any other piece of evidence.

Once a course of action is undertaken by Justice she can be utterly implacable in its execution. She is not swayed once her mind is made up. Only those who bring new information to the table that is valuable could have a hope of changing her course. Resolute action is her specialty, however, she often is somewhat slow to act in many cases. Each action requires careful consideration to make sure it is the right course after all.

Major Domain: Justice

Minor Domains: Truth and Punishment

Weaknesses:

No One is Above Justice:
Azah is held by a power greater than herself to the Court of Heavenly Truth. She can not lie, break any oaths given, break the law, or harm anyone who has not been found guilty of crimes against the laws of men they are beholden to or the heavens. She can not partake in the actions of spies, assassins, or thieves nor can she abide them to go on without judgement. If she knows of a plot that is against the Mandate of Heaven, she must oppose it, even if that means working against her allies who might not be so steadfast in their morals.

Your Avatar:

Raqiel, First Among Seraphs, The Heavenly Warden

Raqiel was made as the greatest and most powerful of all of Azah's creations and he speaks and acts with her will as his own. The gargantuan winged knight stands nearly three hundred feet tall and soars through the heavens on wings of blinding light. In his golden gauntleted hand he grips a spear identical to Judgement in all respects other than being five hundred feet in length and massive in size. Raqiel is powered by the souls of those who have been found guilty in the courts of Azah and her lower judges, as well as any who wish to have their prisoners interned in The Enclave. Raqiel's powers are just like those of his Heaven Master but only to a lesser degree. They do not affect the children of Ephra nor do they strike those other being with such power as his master wields. Nevertheless, the massive size and implacable strength of The Heavenly Warden make him a force terrible and awesome.

Stance: Azah does not want to be the new master of the Gods, however, she knows that someone must sit the throne and is unsure if any are worthy aside from herself. A higher order must be established. At the moment she has thrown her support behind the most worthy heir, Telios.

Loyalty During the Rebellion: Ephra, the rightful King. All who did not support him are rebels.

Center of Power:
The Censure of Truth: A two-fist size ball on the end of a long chain that Azah always carries. The Censure has small holes in its dull metal surface that constantly produce a thin gray smoke. This smoke smells like savory woods and herbs, calming and pleasant to all who are innocent of crimes. To those who have committed crimes against law or heaven find the smell disturbing and repulsive., repelled by the very air they breathe, finding it choking.

Relations:
Allies:
Telios, The Sun God
Legio, The God of Mankind

Friendly:
Koritomo, Goddess of War
X, God of Knowledge
Anyone who supported Ephra in the Civil War

Neutral:
Any who remained neutral in the Civil War (With some exceptions)

Unfriendly:
Typhonne, Goddess of Storms (Remained neutral but was inconsistent)

Hostile:
Sleeth Rethrah, God of Murder
Josarae, Goddess of Corruption
Any who supported War in the Civil War

Powers:

The Highest Judge:
Azah hears the cases of any who wish her to do so and makes the proper judgement. In order for her to do this she needs to know all laws from everywhere. Her aspect of Justice fills her mind with any changes in the laws of all lands as soon as they happen. She can cite cases from those lands' courts with no issue and with perfect accuracy. The mind of Justice never needs to be informed of the laws, for, she knows them better than perhaps even those who crafted them.

Mandate of Truth:
Before The Highest Judge, there is no deception or hiding. All illusions melt away as she looks on them, revealed to all. All lies choke in the mouths of those who would speak them and can not be uttered. All forms that are not natural to those who take them revolt and twist back to their normal shape, even gods being forced to their natural form before her. Those creatures twisted by corruption or the influence of the wild are not turned back as those forms have become the truth of those being but anything that willing has changed is subject to this force. Those who have conducted themselves innocently and followed the laws of their lands and Heaven see her as a shining symbol of glory and power. Those who have committed crimes feel fear and regret swell in their minds to the proportion of their crimes. The worst of which may throw themselves to the ground and beg for the mercy of Heaven if their will is less than divine.

Mandate of Punishment:
Those who have broken laws are clear to the eyes of The Abolisher of Lies. She sees through them to their crimes and with a proclamation of judgement, they are humbled before her Justice. Azah may find one affected negatively by The Mandate of Truth and announce her judgement on them. The worse the crimes they have committed, the worse the effect. At its mildest this results in tremors of fear and physical weakness as well as the clouding of them mind. At its worst this Mandate reduces the target to screaming heap of nothing but pain and guilt. They writhe on the ground incapable of any speech but to demand their own destruction in hopes of ending the torment. This Mandate is not all powerful and has no effect on divine foes or their avatars but it can reduce an army of dark hearted creatures to nothing more than a pile of pain and screams before the power of Justice.

Mandate of Mercy:
The innocent have nothing to fear and those who aid Justice find her mercy is infinite. With a proclamation of Mercy all of those who fight on behalf of Justice find themselves absolved of what they might have done, at least for now. They are immune to the Mandate of Truth for a time and feel the power of Justice course through them. They fight with a zeal and physicality that only an ideal could have. They feel no pain in the face of their enemies and strike with great force and speed.

Mandate of Protection:
Justice does not only smite the wicked, it protects those who are on the side of Justice. With a word Azah can bind the protection of Justice from one person to one of her servants. When this is done any wounds or suffering that would befall the first is instead inflicted on the second. If the protected individual would be slice in two, instead the servant of Justice is. It is the way of Justice to protect those who need it, even at the cost of life.

Godly Equipment:

Judgement:
The great golden spear of The Grand Arbitrator. This twenty foot spear shines with the golden light of truth and gleams with ancient heavenly runes. An identical spear is carried by Raqiel but does not have the great power this holy weapon does. Judgement can not harm anyone who has not committed any crime and passes through them as though they were made of smoke. However, anyone struck solidly with this lance of Heavenly power is filled with light, their eyes burning golden for a second before their very essence is committed to oblivion. Even a God struck with this powerful weapon who has committed offense to the Mandate of Heaven finds themselves destroyed, for, no one is above justice. When this spear is thrown and someone is suffering from the Mandate of Punishment, Azah can direct the spear to them, flying unerringly to their heart or focus of energy. She can call back the spear with a thought, Judgement returning to her hands with a golden flash.

Any slain by this heavenly lance are destroyed but they do not find themselves committed to the underworld as one might expect. Instead, their souls are suddenly sat in a blinding white courtroom with one one judge sitting before them. The court is Heaven's Trial, and the judge, is Azah. This court happens seemingly in a place removed from time and takes no effort on the part of Azah. Before this final judgement there are only two options: Confess one's sins in honesty and throw yourself on the mercy of The Heavenly Trial, or, stand by your crimes, weasel and deny, lie. For those who confess and ask for mercy it is given. Their souls are sent to Raqiel for half of the normal sentence before they are released back to the energy of the world and perhaps to reincarnate if such a thing is for them. For those who do not, they are bound to the form of Raqiel forever, their energy powering the Avatar of Justice for all time.

Halo of The Highest Judge:
This rune etched halo hovers just over and behind the head of Azah at all times. It is her symbol of office just as much as her Center of Power is. When Azah speaks her Mandates the runes pulse with power and flare bright gold. As she finishes these proclamations the air behind her shines bright with golden light and twelve of her Holy Seraphs spill forth to aid her in her judgement.

Armor of Innocence:
Clad in shimmering silver plated armor of divine metal hovers The Shield of Innocence. The armor keeps the form of Azah safe from the unjust. The metal repels the weapons and bodies of those who have violated the law of Heaven or Earth, the guilty finding the armor utterly impervious to their attacks. The armor covers her torso and arms, gleaming with inner light.

Demi Gods: None

Name of your Land:
Mt. Wern (The Enclave)

Lands:

Mt. Wern is a tower peak that is the second tallest in the Sun God's range. The mountain itself starts as an alpine forest and slowly fades into the pure stone, scrub, and snow peak. The mountain though is perhaps the most normal of the lands and is in fact the only part of the lands. The Enclave is built into the slopes of the mountain from base to summit. The buildings of the massive City of Wern make up the most distinguishing features of the lands. Shelves of the mountain have been carved out and standing on them are large vertical towers that stand up like barbs along the sides of the rocky face. Topping the summit of the massive peak is the Crown of Wern. A giant tower stabbing up from the very top of the mountain, gleaming white in the light of day and night.

People:
The closest thing to naturally occuring people to The Enclave are The Sun Folk as Mt. Wern resides in the lands of the Sun God. However, there are others who live there. Some are migrants who have come to the slopes of the magestic peak to live in a just and nearly crimeless society. There are small pockets of humans and other races living in the great towers of The Enclave, but, always small in number.

The greatest portion of the population are The Heavenly Host. These beings are created from the will and power of Azah herself and are lacking in true will. They each are born into a Choir that determines what roles they will fulfill in The Enclave and execute that purpose to the best of their rather impressive ability. They have the freedom to chose what they do in their free time, if they have any, and can form relationships with other members of the Choir they live in or other races. Sometimes these relationships with other races result in a physical union. The children of these unions result in Nephilem, half Host and half of the other race. These hybrid children seem to inherit all of the best features and qualities of both parents and races with almost no drawbacks. They stand tall and physically powerful, wings sprouting from their back. They have a will of their own, not bound to Azah, however, they find it difficult to shake an overpowering desire to champion justice anywhere they go and often find themselves on literal crusades for just causes as if guided by instinct.

The last demographic of The Enclave are The Interned. A large population of both all those who have been tried and found guilty in the Courts of Heaven. These people have had their souls temporarily interned in the nexus of Raqiel, The Heavenly Warden, for a set period of time. Their mindless bodies are not put to waste though during their purifying stay in the heart of The First Among Seraphs. The Interned take orders from any member of the Host and work as servants to The Host in mundane tasks that require simple or no supervision. When The Interned's sentence has been served their spirits are returned to their body and then they may chose to return to their homes in other lands or stay if they wish. Many reformed Interned make up the non-Host population.

Culture:
The culture of The Enclave is less a society and more a complicated and powerful machine. Every aspect of The Enclave is created for the purpose of seeking and administering justice and law. Anyone in the world can petition The Enclave to have their case heard. They do chose to hear the cases petitioned if there is ample reason why there might not be a fair case in the land the crime took place. This can also be done as an appeal if such a thing is allowed by the land where the criminal is interned. The people who are not members of The Host who live there serve as assistants to The Host in their duties or as those in charge of keeping the mortal population alive with the limited space and resources of The Enclave.

Technology: Varies based on the people who live in The Enclave. Usually high medieval.

Capital:
The Enclave:
The Enclave is the name of the city that dominates the slopes and peak of Mt Wern. There are no other cities on Mt. Wern and instead it is all part of the super structure of The Enclave. The city is a system of spires and surrounding towers that are connected by small walkways. Most of the towers actually do not have any stairs in the building at all as most of the inhabitants of The Enclave are capable of flight. There are often systems of pullies operated by The Interned. The outside of the towers are covered with balcony gardens set up for aesthetics or food for the few mortals who live in The Enclave. Everything in the city is a stark and shining white trimmed with golds and silvers.

The pinnacle of the city is The Heavenly Court. The Heavenly Court is inhabited by only the highest tier of The Host and the interned. They wander and work in the spire at the summit of Mt Wern, the spire punching upwards to the clouds above. The Heavenly Courtroom itself sits at the top of the spire itself, open to the swirling air and freezing wind. It is here that Azah herself sits as judge for the highest of crimes and greatest of questions. Each of the other spires on Mt Wern are smaller recreations of The Heavenly Court, but, each is devoted to the laws and trials of each individual Godly domain. The aesthetic of each lesser tower is designed after the culture of the domain; plants, art, and architecture all inspired by the domain they are devoted to.At the top of each of these lesser towers sits a court to hear any and all who wold have the High Court hear their case. These lesser courts are judged by The Principal Choir of The Host.

Beings:

The Host:
The Heavenly Host are all beings made by the mind and will of Azah herself. They are each created for a purpose at their creation with only limited free will beyond that. They all have wings and stand at least nine feet tall and up to fifteen feet tall. The size and number of wings directly denote the Choir each of them belong to.