Ezekiel

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Collab with @Ruby

Sunset, and the cold fire washed over him as the being that refused to let Henry Locke die took over.

Lucifer

The conversation had lasted an hour and 15 minutes on the dot, according to the smartphone once she ended the call with a touch of her index finger. Jenna Cross was upset, calling Eva in a panic. The fires had shaken what Jenna called "the community." What Cross had meant by that wasn't all of Kindred in the area, but the Thin-Blooded. There had been more disappearances within the community than usual. It was alarming, but nothing like tonight according to Jenna. The fires had caused emergency crews to go into warehouses near West Beverly Hills. How she got that information, in the speed in which she got it, intrigued Eva enough to pose the question. Jenna was coy, and while there was no denying Jenna her impressive circle of spies of and informants speed wasn't usually a hallmark of that.

As much as the thought diverted her mind, when Jenna finally got out with what it was that was before getting emotional.

"There are times I'm convinced you're secretly some fucking elder."

Eva wasn't even wrong, she noted. Just colder than Jenna could be in this kind of moment. Eva deflected with a reminder of Jenna's Brujah sire, yet half an hour later and Eva still found herself at the back balcony on the top level of the Lady Hollywood superyacht and staring into the obviously uncovered: a warehouse filled witThe memory of how he actually managed to get to the ship wasn’t clear. It was a rare but now unknown phenomenon. The worst time had been back in the greatest of wars, lying in the blown out shell of a building in Warsaw, surrounded by rubble and the ruin of his ambition for the human race. He had wanted to die then, to finally let the darkness claim him to whatever fate the cosmic force of his father had arranged for him. Something within him had forced him up, a presence buried in his deepest self which burned with a cold, ceaseless, fury. It had pushed his shattered form up and out, back into the war. His next memory was a month in the future. Nothing concerned him more than whatever it was that the old him had buried deep within the mortal shell of Henry Locke.

The fight had not lasted long. The first Wolf had gone down fast, in a hail of silver bullets it hadn’t anticipated. The next two had been cautious but furious, wishing to rip the human they saw before them apart in vengeance for their fallen kin. Henry Locke was a being of magic and supernatural power, but beneath that, his form was still human. It had taken everything to fend off the encroaching pack, the fury of tooth and claw that even all but the most powerful of kindred couldn’t match. He doubted what had occurred could have been considered him ‘winning’ but he was still alive, there was that. He didn’t remember how he’d made it to the waterfront, how he’d stolen the boat, or functioned enough to steer it. All he remembered was falling from the roof of the h Kindred in suspended and unconscious state. Hung and chilled like sides of meat on hooks zipped up in plastic. More specifically all the missing had been found there. When Eva asked about the others found there Jenna didn't know. Or even pretend to. As angry as she was, Eva advised learning as much as possible darkness at the Pacific ocean where water met sky and stretched into infinity. Am I getting cold? Am I getting lost in that game? The questions came in a never-ending repeat until the words finally hit her:

"Wake. Up. Woman. Damn."

It wasn't rare for Eva to find herself zoned out of reality entirely, lost in the voices, lost in visions, lost in time. She couldn't keep track of everything that was assaulting her at all hours. Even slumber only truly helped her physically. There was no mental refresh. There was no time the voices weren't there. Louder, more active. One absolutely screaming. Others murmuring so quietly it couldn't even be called a whisper. Like they were trying to hide.

Like Lubbock.

Getting snapped out of these states occasionally took persistence. Andre stood before her, broad shouldered and dark skinned, brown eyes tight with frustration. Rachel just waited quietly. Mateo made awkward one sided small talk. Yanci played with her phone and sighed and got visibly frustrated. Andre went farther than any of the others. By the time she was 'back' his large hands were wrapped around her arms and he was near shaking her. She knew. He had done it before. This time was right before he actually shook her. "Yeah?"

He blinked twice, and his shoulders lowered as his entire disposition changed instantly with recognition. "There was a boat. It's radio isn't on we're fairly certain. I decided not to fire until it got close because it probably wasn't a bomb considering Henry was driving. He ain't right and he's doing some kinda...it's making my guys unwell. Like he's sunlight."

"Your guys the only ones?"

Her hands were forcing his head down so she got a better look. She was tall, he was taller. "I'm fine, Eva. Tell me he ain't gonna go Biblical on all our asses or something."

The only thing Andre had any actual fear of: something he had zero defense against. She lied to him and told him they were fine before she was fast down to the First Level, at Henry in mere seconds. Smiling softly with a gentle tone to match as her bright brown eyes encased in the lines of thin eyeliner and the shadow of a faint faint purple surveyed Henry. "I thought I warned you about playing with furries."

It was her voice that brought him back. The thing which wore his skin could always do a remarkable impression of Henry Locke when forced to, but not to her. His weary eyes blinked, and consciousness returned. Everything hurt. His cuts were sealing fast enough to be visible, but he was almost certain his left arm was attached only by skin and good wishes. Henry felt the bone reknitting. It was sore, but that wasn’t the source of his pain. Unlike before, the cold force of entropy that had pushed him onwards had not receded entirely, it could not. It roared through every fibre of his being, keeping the human shell it was buried within alive, lest it burn supernova into life as its willing prison died. The force of it seared through every muscle. When he looked up into her eyes, he saw his own reflected. Motes of fire, the image of a star bursting to life played out trapped within his iris. He would be hurting her in turn, just by being close. No wonder there were no others.

Burn With Me

“When you get to my age, love, you start trying all sorts of weird shit.” He tried to stand and failed. The burning felt worse as he struck the deck again, the presence within pounding at the limitations of his form, he tried to focus on his own words, grounding himself in the now.

“Don’t think the fire was them, but they’re out in war numbers. Give them time to group, plan, if they already haven’t, and they might take the city….if they care to.” By and large it was geography and climate which kept the war between Kindred and Garou from spilling over, but it seems that was coming to an end.

His vision swam, and when he looked again at Eva, it wasn’t her, but the image of a woman he’d loved and lost in a different age, just before he had become who he was now. The last disciple. He blinked, and it was the Kindred once more.

“If I’d known we were going somewhere this fancy...I’d have changed.”

“Fire was the Kid’s sire.”

Her words were casual, her tone was razor sharp; splitting the hair of that bit of news between the two of them. Afterall Henry had plenty to do with the demise of the Kid in Hollywood. “It’s connected, somehow, I think, I just can’t prove it yet.” In a rather unusual move, Eva shrugged and admitted a bare thought: “I’m not sure I care enough to find out how. Depends on how difficult it makes life, to be honest. I never thought I’d be more anxious about an Inquisition than I was about a 4th Generation pissed off at me.”

Her pink lips twisted in a half-smile as she settled more comfortably next to him on the wooden and damp deck of the yacht. “We need to get you cleaned up. There’s a room down on the 1st Deck you can take, just ask the steward--he’s the middle aged Armenian guy in white. If you can’t find him, try the bar. He helps stock. “C’mon. Yance and Rachel are on their way, with everyone else coming later. It’s time for the coterie to talk some things out. Clear some fire warmed air from the privacy of a yacht, we’re not being pretentious with the location.”

A few beats later, and she smirked. “Not this time, at least.”

“Anyway,” she offered her hand, and from the looks of it, he might actually need it for once. “C’mon, the shower is tiny but the wood is nice and the bed is super comfy if you need a few minutes to, uh...do less of the warm and toasty bits.”

“Too hot to handle for you, am I?” Henry’s hand clasped her’s as he stood, the shuddering strain of the motion rocking through him as he did so. He managed to avoid fully leaning into her support, but only just, making it to his feet with a muffled gasp of effort. Once he was up, it was easier, each step reknitting the damage to his form and enabling him to shove the pain down into the depths of his psyche.

“I don’t believe you and yours could manage not being pretentious if you tried.” He spoke as his eyes looked over the vessel as they passed through it. He’d been present before, but not for long. Her idea of understated was a far cry from his. His hand remained linked with her’s as he adjusted to a form not simply about to betray him, before coming to a halt before plunging into the interior of the vessel itself. His eyes still sparkled in the reflection within her own. He’d still want to avoid close confines with the other kindred for now.

“Don’t want to get that ash out of your hair? I’m sure we’ve been in more compact places.” It was definitely poorly timed, but necessary. Beyond the simple want for her, he needed to show her, show himself, that it was still him buried under his skin. At least for now.

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Sekhmetara Khafre

Name: Sekhmetara Khafre
Titles: Sol Invicta, The Pakhetera, Khonvoumaret, Aurelia,

Gender: Female

Homeworld: Mithra

Inspiration Images

The Palace of Malika:

The world of Mithra sits in an ideal position within the life zone of its star, Rahken, with a somewhat warmer climate than Terra during the early era of human history. Whether this entirely accounts for the world’s dangerous megafauna is another matter, with various theories revolving around the world’s settlement during the Dark Age of Technology. The majority of the world’s land surface is covered in rainforest and savannah, ranging to desert and cold-tundra at the extremes. No continent on Mithra is permanently covered in snow or ice. The most obvious hallmarks of the planet’s original settlement are the space elevators connecting the world to its two moons, Khonsu and Thotha. While neither moon naturally possessed life or a climate, both have been reshaped into paradise estates through extensive terraforming and palace facilities. Mithra is a Knight World, with noble houses having formed around the original pilots of the Technological Warsuits. Local understanding of the technology of the warsuits, moons and elevators is relatively high for an isolated Knight World, with a Caste of Engineers able to maintain all three to a high functioning degree, if not able to recreate them entirely.

Being reintroduced to the Imperium has not radically altered Mithrasee society, with most representatives of the wider Imperium remaining upon one of the twin moons as opposed to the world itself. The frontier-cities that Sekhmetara established during her unification of the world and its moons remain and have steadily grown since the Imperium has instigated greater settlement efforts upon the world and there is a growing class of influential and wealthy Mithrasee upon the world itself as a consequence.

Appearance:

Standing over ten feet tall, Sekhmetara bears herself with an imperious stance even for her brother and sister primachs. Her skin is a dark nubile tone, and while her form is no doubt visibly powerful by any human measure, she is somewhat slender and feminine by Primach standards, the strength in her form not obscuring her curvaceous build or the softness of her features. Across her skin are various golden markings, unlike the traditional nobility of her home planet, these are formed from actual metal, so that her primach physiology does not remove the markings within the scope of days. Even still, they require rework every few years. Her long dark hair is often elegantly styled, although on occasion she will appear with shockingly white hair. How this is achieved is not immediately obvious, certainly not dye given the nature of Primachs.

As befitting of a Mithrasee noble, Sekhmetara takes great care with her appearance, especially when the occasion suits it and it is not difficult to understand, even visually, why the people of her homeworld considered her the likeness of their Goddess of the Hunt reborn.

Appearance Guides

Personality:

If one was being favorable, one might describe Sekhmetara as unwaveringly confident, a critic might call her arrogant. She likely falls somewhere in between. The product of success in both martial and political matters on a world where such things are prized with religious fanaticism. That is not to say she is abrasive, although likely some find her too self-aggrandizing. She is smooth of tongue in the extreme, a carefully presented character of whatever aspect of her pleasure or wrath she wishes to embody at the specific time. When she wishes to, she can appear the opposite of aloof, as invested in whoever she is conversing with as she could anyone else in the entire galaxy, but this can be replaced with cold fury in the next moment, genuine or acted. She is a being that has grown up with the pressure and benefits of divine rule and there is much in her behavior that is reminiscent of the divine beings of ancient myth.

Perhaps more unusually among primachs, she takes great interest in social and cultural arts, her ‘Crusade Court’ a font of such things, retaining the trappings of Imperial Nobility from her homeworld.

Skills:

-Martial Skills: All Primachs are dangerous, but Sekhmetara is so in a way which seems to balance between refined nobility and wild aggression. Having been raised a noble in the Knightly society of Mithra, followed by exile to the untamed wilderness of her home planet, she has fought both ritually and for survival against monsters that could fell a Knight Lance. In battle as a part of the Crusade, she wields the Glaive Encarmine, a masterfully crafted power glaive, Alongside this, her gauntlets house twin-volkite weaponry and retractable power blades.
-Charmer: Sekhmetara is a skilled diplomat as much as she is a warrior and tactician, her force of charisma motivation in the extreme, coupled with an upbringing in the cultured halls of her homeland, she is just as insistent to take in the cultural intricacies of other worlds, both for use in her role in bringing more worlds into the Imperial fold, but also simply as one who appreciates such things.

-Eye of the Huntress: Sekhmetara has a seemingly supernatural connection to both the natural world and the art of the Hunt, seemingly able to stalk prey where no other can find a trail, or implement the advantages of her surroundings with a capacity which exceeds even the greatest of mortal or astartes commanders.

-Refined Arts: As well as a simple observer of such things, Sekhmetara is well versed in the creation of artistry, be that art itself, dance, sculpture, song, the refined tactics of noble generals, she has delved deeply into them all, more than capable of impressing the greatest minds and performers of the worlds she encounters.

Assignment Grade: Delta: While not always immediately obvious, Sekhmetara has a strong connection to the Warp, her interactions with it often subtle. Her presence calls attention to her, or allows her to mask herself beyond what her form and presentation should allow. The most visually obvious use of her psychic power includes cosmetic changes to herself, hardly as obvious as those who can twist their whole forms, but using it often to change the colouration of her hair, to cause her golden markings and eyes to glow, and other such tricks which only add to the impact her presence can bring. As she has regained contact with the Emperor, her control of her psychic abilities have honed somewhat, and she has begun to be able to wield more directly damaging psychic abilities, however she still tends to avoid this.

Biography:

Sekhmetara’s arrival to Mithra and its moons was not a peaceful occurrence. As her lifepod was cast back into reality, the vessel struck Thotha, the pod crashing into the opulent artificial gardens of the Silver Court, the ruling noble body of The Empire of the Scale. Loosely known as a garden, these were instead vast grounds that varied from sculpted pleasure gardens to wild xenos-hunting grounds with deliberately challenging terrain. It was within the latter that the Primach life-pod landed, with enough force to register initially as a noteworthy meteorite impact. The Royal Bondsmen discovered the crash site with relative ease, within a day of the impact despite the vast scale of the hunting grounds. It was several weeks, however, before Sekhmetara would be discovered, by then as mature and developed as a child, albeit on a greater scale, having lived and hunted among the monstrosities that the nobility would hunt for sport.

The Bondsmen which eventually found her were not, however, the original Royal patrol, but instead the Men-At-Arms of House Khafre discovered the nascent primach. Rather than strike out at the unknown, the Bondsmen approached the young Sekhmetara with restraint, allowing her to see them out of their Armiger Warsuits as an exercise in trust. Rather than return her directly to Silver Court, Sekhmetara was instead spirited away to the Estates of House Khafre nearby, where she would shortly meet who would become her adoptive family. While Sekhmetara, as any Primach, quickly took on and mastered the linguistic skill of communication, the weeks she had spent surviving in the wild continued to define her for the early months of her time within the Estate of House Khafre, being decidedly unsafe to approach for both the noble family themselves and their bondsmen. While this presented as wild rage, in actuality it was from a place of savage cunning as the Primach assessed their goal in acquiring and housing her. It was the younger generation of Khafre nobles, then grandchildren of the House Patriarch, Kwasi and Isabis, who first formed a true bond with the Primach. It was through their social interactions that Sekhmetara accepted her place within the House, even if she surely already knew her destiny was beyond that of an adoptive scion of a Knightly House. Once she was properly ‘socialised’ her existence became known across the Silver Court, the prodigal adopted child of House Khafre, who quickly took up and excelled at any task, art or martial, brought to her. In her mind, the exchange was little more than a game to pass the time as she gathered more knowledge about the situation she, and the planetary system she called home, was in. It was a game she enjoyed, however, and as time passed, her bond with her adoptive family grew.

It was very swiftly apparent that it was more than just rapid maturity and increased capability which marked out the Primach, for she swiftly grew taller than her adoptive peers, and then taller again than even the most gene-enhanced of the Noble Men-At-Arms in the service of the Empire of the Scale. The House of Khafre hailed her as a prodigy, a gift from the Gods of Old, while the other Noble Houses that became aware of her either proclaimed that she must be a sign from the Great Serpent, or an ancient heresy to be extinguished. Most notably, her increased physiology meant that she would never be able to pilot the sacred War-Knights which were the sign of nobility across Mithra and its connected moons. Her admission into the Dance of Knives, the proving ground of the nobility, was therefore contentious. Many whished her bared, many among her own House through it folly to try, even her greater physiology would surely fail against the competition of nobles clad within their Questoris armoured demi-titans. Both were ignored, and with the support of House Khafre, no precedence was found to keep her from participating. The Dance of Knives embodied the wilder aspects of the Knightly Nobility, ritualised tests of combat deep in the bio-engineered wilds of the Silver Court’s hunting grounds. Each of the noble scions involved had trained all their lives for the contest, but to Sekhmetara, this was simply coming home, to the place of her first memories. The young primach made a mockery of the Thothan elite, the fastest dance that had been recorded, lasting scant days as opposed to the month long contest anticipated by the ruling caste of the Empire. Such a devastating upheaval was felt even among the planetside fiefdoms paying tribute to the Empire and the word of the Sekhmetara and House Khafre spread ever further.

The rule of the Empire of the Scale was not kind for those fiefdoms, and even the privileged nobility atop Thotha could wrankle under the power of the Serpent Priests. With such a challenge to the established order, these rumours of Sekhmetara soon became mythology, her name became synonymous with the ancient Wild Gods of Mithra, gods which many among the fiefs which still opposed them empire maintained as sacred. This was a challenge the Silver Court could not ignore, and so the plot to censure House Khafre began. The House, however, was not without its own substantial allies at court, and so when the first blows struck, they were prepared. Legions of House Bondsmen fought back against the levies of the Serpent Priests, the Inner Circle of the Household riding out within their ancient Questoris battlesuits. It was a fierce battle, but it was also a screen. As the greatest lords and ladies of House Khafre fought and died, the future of the house was stolen away by more subtle means, absconding down the great grav-carriers of the Star-Bridge to the surface of Mithra itself. Sekhmetara and her adopted siblings among them. With a handful of Questoris battlesuits, barely any more bondsmen, and the wilds of Mithra to face while well within the territory of the Empire, the future did not seem bright for the Household despite their narrow escape. Avoiding the population centres of the Scale-Fiefdoms, the survivors of House Khafre struck out through the wilderness of Mithra, crossing vast savannahs and great tropical jungles, encountering monstrous creatures with more than enough strength or brutal cunning to fell one of the Knight suits. It was the uncanny ability of Sekhmetara, along with her martial ability, which lead them through. Even before they had left Imperial territory, her legend had grown yet further. Evidence of the vast monsters slain by the Primach were taken as proof of her survival, and continued ability, by those longing for freedom from the Serpent Priests.

It took over a year of travel through the wilderness to escape the borders of the Imperial-Fiefs, the few survivors of the journey making it to the city state of Malika. By the time of their arrival, they were anticipated, and the opportunity to strike back at the Empire of the Scale brought a sense of celebration not just to the survivors of the exodus, but also the people awaiting them. After finally catching sight of the great huntress that the stories had famed, the Council of Merchants ruling Malika immediately swore their city to Sekhmetara, even before she could ask. Over the next weeks, the word from Malika began to spread. Several Fiefs swore loyalty simply through the insistence of the Council of Merchants, but even so, Sekhmetara travelled to them. To do so, the Techno-Smiths of Malika offered her one of their greatest relics, a hover-vehicle, said to pre-date the Ancient Dark. The Primach altered the mechanical wonder to suit her form, and for the first time, possessed a steed capable of bearing her at the speed she wished. Not all of the independent fiefdoms were willing to side with the growing federation on rumour or request alone, many more, however, were quick to correct this upon encountering the rapidly moving Primach, her energy and charisma leading the way, and her unrepentant fury propelling her further when the former was not enough. Few direct battles were fought during this stage, although there were many duels of honour in the style of the Mithra nobles. Sekhmetara herself fought some, although most were taken upon and won by her growing cadre of loyal Questoris Knights.

Malika had been the staging point of her efforts to unite the fiefdoms against the Empire, and it was here that all gathered to swear loyalty, not just to the cause to drive back the Serpent Priests, but now also to the rule of the Primach herself, the years of her efforts in unification solidfying that this was not simply a short term federation of states, but the formation of a new power. Some voiced concerns that they were simply trading one Imperial ruler for another, and the Primach herself did little to debate this. She instead set out to prove that at every opportunity, she was the ‘better’ choice. Her people were more prosperous, her armies more victorious. When the first stone of the foundations of the new palace at Malika were set, so to did the Crusade against the Empire of the Scale truly begin. It was a gruelling conflict, for all the nations and cities she had brought together, the Imperial forces sitll outnumbered them, and with the technological marvels found on the satellite moon that housed the Silver Court, were more advanced as well. The Khafre forces, however, made up for this with skill at arms and tactical marvel, launching daring raids and assaults through the untamed wilderness of Mithra. The elements themselves seemed to ride alongside the Knight Lances of New-Malika, and it was rumoured on several occasions that Sekhmetara lead hosts of the wild beasts themselves against the Serpent Legions. Fiefdom after Fiefdom fell to the sweeping advance of the Primach’s forces. These conquests were fast and fierce, but they did not seek to maim and burn. From the oppressive rule of the Empire of the Scale, chains were broken, and The Empire of Unconquered Sun was born. By now the old stories of Sekhmetara as the chosen of the Wild Gods, or even one of them reborn in flesh, how now swept through the populace. She never endorsed such things herself, but nor did she quash them. When it was this fact that brough the noble houses of the moon of Khonsu down to parlay with her, and lend their forces to the final defeat of the Empire of the Scale, she was more than willing to wield their faith as her weapon.

Once these fresh Knight Lances and their bondsmen joined her more electic force, the days of the Empire of the Scale upon Mithra were numbered. No longer forced to rely on hit and run tactics and the force of diplomacy, the Unconquered Sun utterly excised the corruption of the Empire of the Scale from Mithra, and preparations for a means to assault the moon of Thotha began.

They would never be completed, however, for during the celebratory feast to mark the surrender of the final Fiefdom loyal to the Empire on Mithra, the Emperor covertly met with Sekhmetara and revealed both himself, and her true origin. Little is know widely of what they discussed, but by the time the meeting had concluded, Sekhmetara had sworn loyalty to the Imperium and in doing so, signed the death warrant of the Moon that had been her home. The next day, Sekhmetara Khafre joined her father, and new Liege, in the systematic destruction of Thotha. Much of the Silver Court was annihilated from orbit, before The Abyssal Lurkers were unleashed on the surface. While the memories of all those present have since been distorted by the psychic might of the Emperor, this stands as Sekhmetara’s first interaction with Astartes and one of her siblings. Shortly, the 20th Legion was summoned to Mithra, to meet their Primach at last.

Sekhmetara took to her place as the Primach of a Legion with great enthusiasm and commitment to her vision. She remade the Legion, which had previously been renown for some of the most gruelling engagements of the Crusade, into a fighting force modeled off her successful campaigns on Mithra. The Primach took well to the greater technologies of the Imperium of Man, and the intricacies of voidwar. Ever since her ascension to command of her Legion, the Tears have specialised in the swift compliance of human worlds through decisive strikes and deft diplomacy, although much as with her time on Mithra, Sekhmetara now longs for a greater challenge to place herself and her daughters against.

The Meeting:

Night had fallen over Ghutan, scant hours after the Unconquered Sun had broken upon it. From atop palace battlements which overlooked the city, the blanket of darkness was pierced with a thousand lesser pinpricks of light. Most of the conquests of the campaign had been reserved, or simply diplomatic surrenders. Ghutan had earned its fate, however. The rulers of the city had been almost as devoted to the Serpent Priests and their lies as the Silver Court itself, they had long resisted the advances of the Unconquered Sun, performing ever greater atrocities in the name of their scaled god to summon his aid, or simply to infuriate those who fought to free Mithra. It had been futile, Sekhmetara had lead the final charge herself, they had crushed their armies, annihilated their defences, tore down their idols. She had allowed the sack of the city’s noble quarter with no reservations. The downtrodden of Ghutan had even joined her armies in doing so.

The palace, however, was incandescent in another kind of light. Once the ruling nobility and priests had surrendered, likely seeking a last change to spare the wrath of the Empress of Malika, she had ordained that the celebration of their great, and final, victory upon Mithra be held in the palace that had once orchestrated the greatest obstacle to their success. The great serpentine icons, statues and works of art had been pulled down, shattered, and replaced with the icons of Sekhmetara’s reign, the blazing symbol of dawn. They had turned this den of vipers into a house of light and joy. At least, that was the idea. As Sekhmetara stood on the great balcony overlooking her latest conquest, she could not hide from the hollow feeling which held sway within her. Her gaze rose up to the dominant figure of Thotha in the Night sky, and the column of light marking the great star-bridge connecting it to Mithra. The connection point was some distance away at this time of the lunar cycle, although she knew it to be heading towards them. Her eyes, keener than any human she had ever known, picked out the impossibly distant structures and artificial biomes across the moon. She recalled her memories, of her childhood, both wild and among her adoptive household. She held the image of her adoptive father, Techan Khafre, in her mind, shutting her eyes to do so. Sekhmetara would not be content until not just Mithra was free of the Serpent Priests, she would demolish their Silver Court, and carve the name of Khafre into their burial mount. Her sombre mood, however, was ruining the celebrations, and she knew she should return to the victory feast she had earned. Many of her followers, even her inner circle, we acting like the war was won, writing off any chance of being able to assail Thotha itself. She would have to dispel this idea, but, perhaps after one more night.

“A worthy view.” The voice surprised her, it was rare, almost unheard of in recent years, that anything could ambush her, even the great monsters of the wilds, let alone a human. Still, she turned her head slowly to the side. To her great surprise, she found her features level with another. For the first time in decades, Sekhmetara found her eyes level with those of another. There had been rumours of another being akin to her roaming Mithra of late. She had taken it to be headless superstition, no matter how much her heart yearned to hope otherwise. There were none like her. At least, she had thought so. “A worthy conqueror.” The man, dark skinned, as most with on Mithra, if not so dark as her own. He was handsome, in an imperious sort of way. That almost made her laugh, for her to think of someone else as imperious. He motioned to her as he spoke, offering her a golden cup, a twin in his own hand.
She accepted with a slight bow of her head, the scent of the wine wafted up to her immediately, with a subtle tone she did not recognise. “I often wish it had the same affect.” She spoke simply, speaking with this stranger with the assumption he knew her trials. “It looks like fun.” She motioned back towards the palace, referencing the revelry occurring.

“There is a plant, from a far off place. Somewhere quite different to this, to everything you know. You will feel it, now.” The man explained, before taking a sip from his own cup. His words brought a raised eyebrow to her features, attempting to process his words. A thousand questions fought for competition in her mind, but something about the stranger, more than simply the nature he presented, prevented her from asking, for now.

Instead she took a sip of her drink, savouring the taste of the wine, much as it always had been, before she swallowed. The effect wasn’t instant, but, after a few moments, it was there. The barest tingle, the smallest dulling of her senses and a soft surge of elation. She laughed, he look of deep thought breaking into a smile, as she looked down at the cup, then back up to the stranger.

“So, that is what it feels like…I understand now.” She laughed again, swirling her drink before taking another sip.

“Well, an approximation. You will never feel it entirely the same, for, you are not the same. You are so much more, Sekhmetara Khafre, and I feel such joy to have found you.” The stranger’s smile grew kinder, and, in a break of decorum, should he had been any other guest to her gathering, placed a hand upon her bare shoulder. She began to speak, not to challenge the gesture, but to ask one of her many thousand of questions. That was when the Light struck her. The man’s touch set her every sensation afire, he mind plunged into an incandescent so bright it robbed all other sensation.

When she finally spoke, long before she returned entirely to her mortal shell, her thoughts still glimpsing vistas of greatness, of the vast scope of the stars, she managed one simple word.

“Father.”

-------------

“You cannot mean to allow this!?” The words, uncharacteristically direct and openly emotional, chased Sekhmetara as she moved through the halls of the palace, the auric shine of her armour playing back the firelight of a hundred torches.

“I allow nothing, the Emperor, my father, your new lord, commands it.” The Primach responded simply, opening and closing the gauntlet of her left hand, watching as the unfamiliar new technology whirred to life within. She had fired the weapon within before, a gift from the Imperium upon its true arrival, but she yearned to see it in true practice.
“It is our ‘home’ sister, the Priests corrupted the message of the Great King, but they are the enemy not ou-”

“Do not speak of your snake god again, sister, not to me, and never to our Emperor or his subjects.” Sekhmetara whirled to warn the suddenly cowed figure of Isabis, the slender woman practically jumping back at the rare sight of true anger from the Primach towards her adopted kin. “And do not take my compliance for simple inaction, Thotha will burn because the Emperor wills it, but every moment will be deserved. If you blame anyone, blame the Serpent Priests and your foul god. I do not simply allow it, I relish it. I am the Unconquered Sun and my fire will cleanse all trace of those who have cursed Mithra.” The details of Sekhmetara’s eyes disappeared beneath the bright glow of her building power, starting gold before transitioning to the surging white-blue of plasma fire, the heat crackling through the air, forcing Isabis back another step.

“You were chosen sister, you ca-”

“Prophecy is a lie, we forge our own path now.”

The Tears of Dawn

Legion Name: The Tears of Dawn

Legion Number: XX

Legion Strength: 75,000 Marines supported by The Knight Lances of Mithra and a large contingent of Auxilia. The Legion maintains a much larger contingent of Jetbikes and aerial mechanised forces than Legions of equivalent size. The Legion fleet also provides greater firepower than the size of the legion would suggest, however it does so through large numbers of smaller, faster, vessels.

Armour Appearance:
Legionary:


First Company:


Warcry: “Sol Invicta.” “The Dawn Breaks.” “For The Light Encarmine!”

Dramatis Personae:

Ahonsa Mensu: First Captain of the Tears of Dawn, Ahonsa is the second individual to hold this rank since the unification between Primach and Legion. A native of Mithra, she is young for her position, ambitious and utterly dedicated to Sekhmetara’s vision for the Legion. Ahonsa has a particular dislike to the Terran members of the Legion who have questioned her Primach’s willingness to place important duties on the shoulders of non-Astartes from Mithra. Unlike many of the high-ranking members of the Legion, she opts not to fight from atop a jetbike, instead having forged her career in the recon units that are so key to The Tears War Doctrine.

Kvasi Khafre: The Primach’s younger brother via her adoption into House Khafre, Kvasi forsoke his natural place as the primary heir of House Khafre to join Sekhmetara’s crusade. Almost as impulsive, bold and brilliant as the Primach herself, Kvasi acts as Sekhmetara’s primary liaison with the Knight Lances which fight alongside the Tears of Dawn. There are few individuals closer to the Primach than her adopted brother, but even the knights of other houses that accompany the Tears have a grudging respect for the tactical doctrines he has assisted in writing.

Isabis Khafre: Younger sister to both Sekhmetara and Kvasi, Isabis never ascended to pilot her own Questoris warsuit, but equally was beyond the age to become an astartes by the time of Mithra’s compliance. Rather than remain upon their homeworld or try to find another military role within the XX’s fleet, Isabis has instead become a rembrancer and orator of impressive ability, already considered among the most favoured across the Crusade. Unlike her two older siblings, she comes across, generally, with a softer approach, although she is just as often in the Primach’s company as a warrior-brother.

Bahati Khafre: One of the youngest surviving members of House Khafre, Bahati was able to be fully inducted into the Tears of Dawn, the only member of the noble house to have done so. Despite Sekhmetara’s fondness for those of her homeworld, Bahati has received no among of benefit from nepotism, although years after compliance, is now a Captain within the 6th Chapter. Bahati is a bold and aggressive officer even by the standards of the Tears of Dawn, and feels a burning desire to prove the strength of Mithra, the Tears, and House Khafre to the wider Imperium.

Chief Librarian Elosha Turna: One of the few remaining Terran Tears with a position in close proximity to the Primach after the death of First Captain Jeriah some years before, Elosha has been instrumental in helping the Primach to hone her psychic ability. Elosha is typical in mindset for the Terran Tears, being far more stoic than their Mithran sisters, but no less dedicated to the Primach and committed to her change of vision for the Legion. Sekhmetara and Elosha seem to have a genuinely close bond, rivalled only by those with her adopted family.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: The Tears of Dawn combine an approach which favours diplomatic resolutions to human compliance with a surge of brutal, if elegant, force. Small in terms of numbers for a Legion, the Tears boast a far greater arsenal of jetbikes and aerial strike craft than their number would suggest, the pilots of their Legion being famed across the Imperium and their fellow Legions. The war-doctrine of the Tears is to combine the anvil of their Imperial Army and Knight lance allies with the hammer of the Tears aerial drop-strikes, deploying via Storm Eagles, Thunderhawks and drop pods while the tide of their jetbike mounted warriors continue to sweep over the enemy. This approach is a substantial departure from their role before Sekhmetara was discovered by the Imperium, having been a mechanised infantry force dedicated to gruelling campaigns in some of the most problematic warzones, with a particular focus on extermination campaigns.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: While before the Tears of Dawn were subdued and sombre, rarely fighting alongside their fellow legions except when circumstance demanded it, and with little support from the other wings of the Imperial warmachine, they are now a vibrant display of warrior-culture centre around the spirit of Mithra. The Tears of Dawn are encouraged to have pursuits outside of their combat role in the Legion, although many still use this opportunity to hone more specialised or ritualistic martial pursuits. While the Legion itself is on the smaller side, their fleet is substantial, bearing a greater amount of Imperial Army elements alongside the Knights and Bondsmen of Mithra. Alongside these, are a great number of rembrancers and other civilian roles, which has formed the Tears fleet into a cultural hub among the stars. Within the Legion itself, particularly the Mithran-Born, many of the trappings of their birth culture survive, with warrior sisterhoods arranged around the themes and concepts of the Mithran Wild Gods. The exception to this is the faith of the Serpent Priests, last acts of Sekhmetara on her homeworld being to instigate various purges of the Empire of the Scale’s religion, even if she had grown up among it.

Relationships: TBC

Mass Effect: Phoenix | A 24th century adventure in space

I'm here, sorry for the delay. Will plan something up.

Mass Effect: Phoenix | A search for a Captain and Co-GM

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The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Sekhmetara Khafre

Name: Sekhmetara Khafre

Gender: Female

Homeworld: Mithra

Inspiration Images

The Palace of Malika:

The world of Mithra sits in an ideal position within the life zone of its star, Rahken, with a somewhat warmer climate than Terra during the early era of human history. Whether this entirely accounts for the world’s dangerous megafauna is another matter, with various theories revolving around the world’s settlement during the Dark Age of Technology. The majority of the world’s land surface is covered in rainforest and savannah, ranging to desert and cold-tundra at the extremes. No continent on Mithra is permanently covered in snow or ice. The most obvious hallmarks of the planet’s original settlement are the space elevators connecting the world to its two moons, Khonsu and Thotha. While neither moon naturally possessed life or a climate, both have been reshaped into paradise estates through extensive terraforming and palace facilities. Mithra is a Knight World, with noble houses having formed around the original pilots of the Technological Warsuits. Local understanding of the technology of the warsuits, moons and elevators is relatively high for an isolated Knight World, with a Caste of Engineers able to maintain all three to a high functioning degree, if not able to recreate them entirely.

Being reintroduced to the Imperium has not radically altered Mithrasee society, with most representatives of the wider Imperium remaining upon one of the twin moons as opposed to the world itself. The frontier-cities that Sekhmetara established during her unification of the world and its moons remain and have steadily grown since the Imperium has instigated greater settlement efforts upon the world and there is a growing class of influential and wealthy Mithrasee upon the world itself as a consequence.

Appearance:

Standing twelve feet tall, Sekhmetara bears herself with an imperious stance even for her brother and sister primachs. Her skin is a dark nubile tone, and while her form is no doubt visibly powerful by any human measure, she is somewhat slender and feminine by Primach standards, the strength in her form not obscuring her curvaceous build or the softness of her features. Across her skin are various golden markings, unlike the traditional nobility of her home planet, these are formed from actual metal, so that her primach physiology does not remove the markings within the scope of days. Even still, they require rework every few years. Her long dark hair is often elegantly styled, although on occasion she will appear with shockingly white hair. How this is achieved is not immediately obvious, certainly not dye given the nature of Primachs.

As befitting of a Mithrasee noble, Sekhmetara takes great care with her appearance, especially when the occasion suits it and it is not difficult to understand, even visually, why the people of her homeworld considered her the likeness of their Goddess of the Hunt reborn.

Appearance Guides

Personality:

If one was being favorable, one might describe Sekhmetara as unwaveringly confident, a critic might call her arrogant. She likely falls somewhere in between. The product of success in both martial and political matters on a world where such things are prized with religious fanaticism. That is not to say she is abrasive, although likely some find her too self-aggrandizing. She is smooth of tongue in the extreme, a carefully presented character of whatever aspect of her pleasure or wrath she wishes to embody at the specific time. When she wishes to, she can appear the opposite of aloof, as invested in whoever she is conversing with as she could anyone else in the entire galaxy, but this can be replaced with cold fury in the next moment, genuine or acted. She is a being that has grown up with the pressure and benefits of divine rule and there is much in her behavior that is reminiscent of the divine beings of ancient myth.

Perhaps more unusually among primachs, she takes great interest in social and cultural arts, her ‘Crusade Court’ a font of such things, retaining the trappings of Imperial Nobility from her homeworld.

Skills:

-Martial Skills: All Primachs are dangerous, but Sekhmetara is so in a way which seems to balance between refined nobility and wild aggression. Having been raised a noble in the Knightly society of Mithra, followed by exile to the untamed wilderness of her home planet, she has fought both ritually and for survival against monsters that could fell a Knight Lance. In battle as a part of the Crusade, she wields the Glaive Encarmine, a masterfully crafted power glaive, Alongside this, her gauntlets house twin-volkite weaponry and retractable power blades.
-Charmer: Sekhmetara is a skilled diplomat as much as she is a warrior and tactician, her force of charisma motivation in the extreme, coupled with an upbringing in the cultured halls of her homeland, she is just as insistent to take in the cultural intricacies of other worlds, both for use in her role in bringing more worlds into the Imperial fold, but also simply as one who appreciates such things.

-Eye of the Huntress: Sekhmetara has a seemingly supernatural connection to both the natural world and the art of the Hunt, seemingly able to stalk prey where no other can find a trail, or implement the advantages of her surroundings with a capacity which exceeds even the greatest of mortal or astartes commanders.

-Refined Arts: As well as a simple observer of such things, Sekhmetara is well versed in the creation of artistry, be that art itself, dance, sculpture, song, the refined tactics of noble generals, she has delved deeply into them all, more than capable of impressing the greatest minds and performers of the worlds she encounters.

Assignment Grade: Delta: While not always immediately obvious, Sekhmetara has a strong connection to the Warp, her interactions with it often subtle. Her presence calls attention to her, or allows her to mask herself beyond what her form and presentation should allow. The most visually obvious use of her psychic power includes cosmetic changes to herself, hardly as obvious as those who can twist their whole forms, but using it often to change the colouration of her hair, to cause her golden markings and eyes to glow, and other such tricks which only add to the impact her presence can bring. As she has regained contact with the Emperor, her control of her psychic abilities have honed somewhat, and she has begun to be able to wield more directly damaging psychic abilities, however she still tends to avoid this.

Biography:

Sekhmetara’s arrival to Mithra and its moons was not a peaceful occurrence. As her lifepod was cast back into reality, the vessel struck Thotha, the pod crashing into the opulent artificial gardens of the Silver Court, the ruling noble body of The Empire of the Scale. Loosely known as a garden, these were instead vast grounds that varied from sculpted pleasure gardens to wild xenos-hunting grounds with deliberately challenging terrain. It was within the latter that the Primach life-pod landed, with enough force to register initially as a noteworthy meteorite impact. The Royal Bondsmen discovered the crash site with relative ease, within a day of the impact despite the vast scale of the hunting grounds. It was several weeks, however, before Sekhmetara would be discovered, by then as mature and developed as a child, albeit on a greater scale, having lived and hunted among the monstrosities that the nobility would hunt for sport.

The Bondsmen which eventually found her were not, however, the original Royal patrol, but instead the Men-At-Arms of House Khafre discovered the nascent primach. Rather than strike out at the unknown, the Bondsmen approached the young Sekhmetara with restraint, allowing her to see them out of their Armiger Warsuits as an exercise in trust. Rather than return her directly to Silver Court, Sekhmetara was instead spirited away to the Estates of House Khafre nearby, where she would shortly meet who would become her adoptive family. While Sekhmetara, as any Primach, quickly took on and mastered the linguistic skill of communication, the weeks she had spent surviving in the wild continued to define her for the early months of her time within the Estate of House Khafre, being decidedly unsafe to approach for both the noble family themselves and their bondsmen. While this presented as wild rage, in actuality it was from a place of savage cunning as the Primach assessed their goal in acquiring and housing her. It was the younger generation of Khafre nobles, then grandchildren of the House Patriarch, Kwasi and Isabis, who first formed a true bond with the Primach. It was through their social interactions that Sekhmetara accepted her place within the House, even if she surely already knew her destiny was beyond that of an adoptive scion of a Knightly House. Once she was properly ‘socialised’ her existence became known across the Silver Court, the prodigal adopted child of House Khafre, who quickly took up and excelled at any task, art or martial, brought to her. In her mind, the exchange was little more than a game to pass the time as she gathered more knowledge about the situation she, and the planetary system she called home, was in. It was a game she enjoyed, however, and as time passed, her bond with her adoptive family grew.

It was very swiftly apparent that it was more than just rapid maturity and increased capability which marked out the Primach, for she swiftly grew taller than her adoptive peers, and then taller again than even the most gene-enhanced of the Noble Men-At-Arms in the service of the Empire of the Scale. The House of Khafre hailed her as a prodigy, a gift from the Gods of Old, while the other Noble Houses that became aware of her either proclaimed that she must be a sign from the Great Serpent, or an ancient heresy to be extinguished. Most notably, her increased physiology meant that she would never be able to pilot the sacred War-Knights which were the sign of nobility across Mithra and its connected moons. Her admission into the Dance of Knives, the proving ground of the nobility, was therefore contentious. Many whished her bared, many among her own House through it folly to try, even her greater physiology would surely fail against the competition of nobles clad within their Questoris armoured demi-titans. Both were ignored, and with the support of House Khafre, no precedence was found to keep her from participating. The Dance of Knives embodied the wilder aspects of the Knightly Nobility, ritualised tests of combat deep in the bio-engineered wilds of the Silver Court’s hunting grounds. Each of the noble scions involved had trained all their lives for the contest, but to Sekhmetara, this was simply coming home, to the place of her first memories. The young primach made a mockery of the Thothan elite, the fastest dance that had been recorded, lasting scant days as opposed to the month long contest anticipated by the ruling caste of the Empire. Such a devastating upheaval was felt even among the planetside fiefdoms paying tribute to the Empire and the word of the Sekhmetara and House Khafre spread ever further.

The rule of the Empire of the Scale was not kind for those fiefdoms, and even the privileged nobility atop Thotha could wrankle under the power of the Serpent Priests. With such a challenge to the established order, these rumours of Sekhmetara soon became mythology, her name became synonymous with the ancient Wild Gods of Mithra, gods which many among the fiefs which still opposed them empire maintained as sacred. This was a challenge the Silver Court could not ignore, and so the plot to censure House Khafre began. The House, however, was not without its own substantial allies at court, and so when the first blows struck, they were prepared. Legions of House Bondsmen fought back against the levies of the Serpent Priests, the Inner Circle of the Household riding out within their ancient Questoris battlesuits. It was a fierce battle, but it was also a screen. As the greatest lords and ladies of House Khafre fought and died, the future of the house was stolen away by more subtle means, absconding down the great grav-carriers of the Star-Bridge to the surface of Mithra itself. Sekhmetara and her adopted siblings among them. With a handful of Questoris battlesuits, barely any more bondsmen, and the wilds of Mithra to face while well within the territory of the Empire, the future did not seem bright for the Household despite their narrow escape. Avoiding the population centres of the Scale-Fiefdoms, the survivors of House Khafre struck out through the wilderness of Mithra, crossing vast savannahs and great tropical jungles, encountering monstrous creatures with more than enough strength or brutal cunning to fell one of the Knight suits. It was the uncanny ability of Sekhmetara, along with her martial ability, which lead them through. Even before they had left Imperial territory, her legend had grown yet further. Evidence of the vast monsters slain by the Primach were taken as proof of her survival, and continued ability, by those longing for freedom from the Serpent Priests.

It took over a year of travel through the wilderness to escape the borders of the Imperial-Fiefs, the few survivors of the journey making it to the city state of Malika. By the time of their arrival, they were anticipated, and the opportunity to strike back at the Empire of the Scale brought a sense of celebration not just to the survivors of the exodus, but also the people awaiting them. After finally catching sight of the great huntress that the stories had famed, the Council of Merchants ruling Malika immediately swore their city to Sekhmetara, even before she could ask. Over the next weeks, the word from Malika began to spread. Several Fiefs swore loyalty simply through the insistence of the Council of Merchants, but even so, Sekhmetara travelled to them. To do so, the Techno-Smiths of Malika offered her one of their greatest relics, a hover-vehicle, said to pre-date the Ancient Dark. The Primach altered the mechanical wonder to suit her form, and for the first time, possessed a steed capable of bearing her at the speed she wished. Not all of the independent fiefdoms were willing to side with the growing federation on rumour or request alone, many more, however, were quick to correct this upon encountering the rapidly moving Primach, her energy and charisma leading the way, and her unrepentant fury propelling her further when the former was not enough. Few direct battles were fought during this stage, although there were many duels of honour in the style of the Mithra nobles. Sekhmetara herself fought some, although most were taken upon and won by her growing cadre of loyal Questoris Knights.

Malika had been the staging point of her efforts to unite the fiefdoms against the Empire, and it was here that all gathered to swear loyalty, not just to the cause to drive back the Serpent Priests, but now also to the rule of the Primach herself, the years of her efforts in unification solidfying that this was not simply a short term federation of states, but the formation of a new power. Some voiced concerns that they were simply trading one Imperial ruler for another, and the Primach herself did little to debate this. She instead set out to prove that at every opportunity, she was the ‘better’ choice. Her people were more prosperous, her armies more victorious. When the first stone of the foundations of the new palace at Malika were set, so to did the Crusade against the Empire of the Scale truly begin. It was a gruelling conflict, for all the nations and cities she had brought together, the Imperial forces sitll outnumbered them, and with the technological marvels found on the satellite moon that housed the Silver Court, were more advanced as well. The Khafre forces, however, made up for this with skill at arms and tactical marvel, launching daring raids and assaults through the untamed wilderness of Mithra. The elements themselves seemed to ride alongside the Knight Lances of New-Malika, and it was rumoured on several occasions that Sekhmetara lead hosts of the wild beasts themselves against the Serpent Legions. Fiefdom after Fiefdom fell to the sweeping advance of the Primach’s forces. These conquests were fast and fierce, but they did not seek to maim and burn. From the oppressive rule of the Empire of the Scale, chains were broken, and The Empire of Unconquered Sun was born. By now the old stories of Sekhmetara as the chosen of the Wild Gods, or even one of them reborn in flesh, how now swept through the populace. She never endorsed such things herself, but nor did she quash them. When it was this fact that brough the noble houses of the moon of Khonsu down to parlay with her, and lend their forces to the final defeat of the Empire of the Scale, she was more than willing to wield their faith as her weapon.

Once these fresh Knight Lances and their bondsmen joined her more electic force, the days of the Empire of the Scale upon Mithra were numbered. No longer forced to rely on hit and run tactics and the force of diplomacy, the Unconquered Sun utterly excised the corruption of the Empire of the Scale from Mithra, and preparations for a means to assault the moon of Thotha began.

They would never be completed, however, for during the celebratory feast to mark the surrender of the final Fiefdom loyal to the Empire on Mithra, the Emperor covertly met with Sekhmetara and revealed both himself, and her true origin. Little is know widely of what they discussed, but by the time the meeting had concluded, Sekhmetara had sworn loyalty to the Imperium and in doing so, signed the death warrant of the Moon that had been her home. The next day, Sekhmetara Khafre joined her father, and new Liege, in the systematic destruction of Thotha. Much of the Silver Court was annihilated from orbit, before The Abyssal Lurkers were unleashed on the surface. While the memories of all those present have since been distorted by the psychic might of the Emperor, this stands as Sekhmetara’s first interaction with Astartes and one of her siblings. Shortly, the 20th Legion was summoned to Mithra, to meet their Primach at last.

Sekhmetara took to her place as the Primach of a Legion with great enthusiasm and commitment to her vision. She remade the Legion, which had previously been renown for some of the most gruelling engagements of the Crusade, into a fighting force modeled off her successful campaigns on Mithra. The Primach took well to the greater technologies of the Imperium of Man, and the intricacies of voidwar. Ever since her ascension to command of her Legion, the Tears have specialised in the swift compliance of human worlds through decisive strikes and deft diplomacy, although much as with her time on Mithra, Sekhmetara now longs for a greater challenge to place herself and her daughters against.

The Meeting:

Night had fallen over Ghutan, scant hours after the Unconquered Sun had broken upon it. From atop palace battlements which overlooked the city, the blanket of darkness was pierced with a thousand lesser pinpricks of light. Most of the conquests of the campaign had been reserved, or simply diplomatic surrenders. Ghutan had earned its fate, however. The rulers of the city had been almost as devoted to the Serpent Priests and their lies as the Silver Court itself, they had long resisted the advances of the Unconquered Sun, performing ever greater atrocities in the name of their scaled god to summon his aid, or simply to infuriate those who fought to free Mithra. It had been futile, Sekhmetara had lead the final charge herself, they had crushed their armies, annihilated their defences, tore down their idols. She had allowed the sack of the city’s noble quarter with no reservations. The downtrodden of Ghutan had even joined her armies in doing so.

The palace, however, was incandescent in another kind of light. Once the ruling nobility and priests had surrendered, likely seeking a last change to spare the wrath of the Empress of Malika, she had ordained that the celebration of their great, and final, victory upon Mithra be held in the palace that had once orchestrated the greatest obstacle to their success. The great serpentine icons, statues and works of art had been pulled down, shattered, and replaced with the icons of Sekhmetara’s reign, the blazing symbol of dawn. They had turned this den of vipers into a house of light and joy. At least, that was the idea. As Sekhmetara stood on the great balcony overlooking her latest conquest, she could not hide from the hollow feeling which held sway within her. Her gaze rose up to the dominant figure of Thotha in the Night sky, and the column of light marking the great star-bridge connecting it to Mithra. The connection point was some distance away at this time of the lunar cycle, although she knew it to be heading towards them. Her eyes, keener than any human she had ever known, picked out the impossibly distant structures and artificial biomes across the moon. She recalled her memories, of her childhood, both wild and among her adoptive household. She held the image of her adoptive father, Techan Khafre, in her mind, shutting her eyes to do so. Sekhmetara would not be content until not just Mithra was free of the Serpent Priests, she would demolish their Silver Court, and carve the name of Khafre into their burial mount. Her sombre mood, however, was ruining the celebrations, and she knew she should return to the victory feast she had earned. Many of her followers, even her inner circle, we acting like the war was won, writing off any chance of being able to assail Thotha itself. She would have to dispel this idea, but, perhaps after one more night.

“A worthy view.” The voice surprised her, it was rare, almost unheard of in recent years, that anything could ambush her, even the great monsters of the wilds, let alone a human. Still, she turned her head slowly to the side. To her great surprise, she found her features level with another. For the first time in decades, Sekhmetara found her eyes level with those of another. There had been rumours of another being akin to her roaming Mithra of late. She had taken it to be headless superstition, no matter how much her heart yearned to hope otherwise. There were none like her. At least, she had thought so. “A worthy conqueror.” The man, dark skinned, as most with on Mithra, if not so dark as her own. He was handsome, in an imperious sort of way. That almost made her laugh, for her to think of someone else as imperious. He motioned to her as he spoke, offering her a golden cup, a twin in his own hand.
She accepted with a slight bow of her head, the scent of the wine wafted up to her immediately, with a subtle tone she did not recognise. “I often wish it had the same affect.” She spoke simply, speaking with this stranger with the assumption he knew her trials. “It looks like fun.” She motioned back towards the palace, referencing the revelry occurring.

“There is a plant, from a far off place. Somewhere quite different to this, to everything you know. You will feel it, now.” The man explained, before taking a sip from his own cup. His words brought a raised eyebrow to her features, attempting to process his words. A thousand questions fought for competition in her mind, but something about the stranger, more than simply the nature he presented, prevented her from asking, for now.

Instead she took a sip of her drink, savouring the taste of the wine, much as it always had been, before she swallowed. The effect wasn’t instant, but, after a few moments, it was there. The barest tingle, the smallest dulling of her senses and a soft surge of elation. She laughed, he look of deep thought breaking into a smile, as she looked down at the cup, then back up to the stranger.

“So, that is what it feels like…I understand now.” She laughed again, swirling her drink before taking another sip.

“Well, an approximation. You will never feel it entirely the same, for, you are not the same. You are so much more, Sekhmetara Khafre, and I feel such joy to have found you.” The stranger’s smile grew kinder, and, in a break of decorum, should he had been any other guest to her gathering, placed a hand upon her bare shoulder. She began to speak, not to challenge the gesture, but to ask one of her many thousand of questions. That was when the Light struck her. The man’s touch set her every sensation afire, he mind plunged into an incandescent so bright it robbed all other sensation.

When she finally spoke, long before she returned entirely to her mortal shell, her thoughts still glimpsing vistas of greatness, of the vast scope of the stars, she managed one simple word.

“Father.”

-------------

“You cannot mean to allow this!?” The words, uncharacteristically direct and openly emotional, chased Sekhmetara as she moved through the halls of the palace, the auric shine of her armour playing back the firelight of a hundred torches.

“I allow nothing, the Emperor, my father, your new lord, commands it.” The Primach responded simply, opening and closing the gauntlet of her left hand, watching as the unfamiliar new technology whirred to life within. She had fired the weapon within before, a gift from the Imperium upon its true arrival, but she yearned to see it in true practice.
“It is our ‘home’ sister, the Priests corrupted the message of the Great King, but they are the enemy not ou-”

“Do not speak of your snake god again, sister, not to me, and never to our Emperor or his subjects.” Sekhmetara whirled to warn the suddenly cowed figure of Isabis, the slender woman practically jumping back at the rare sight of true anger from the Primach towards her adopted kin. “And do not take my compliance for simple inaction, Thotha will burn because the Emperor wills it, but every moment will be deserved. If you blame anyone, blame the Serpent Priests and your foul god. I do not simply allow it, I relish it. I am the Unconquered Sun and my fire will cleanse all trace of those who have cursed Mithra.” The details of Sekhmetara’s eyes disappeared beneath the bright glow of her building power, starting gold before transitioning to the surging white-blue of plasma fire, the heat crackling through the air, forcing Isabis back another step.

“You were chosen sister, you ca-”

“Prophecy is a lie, we forge our own path now.”

The Tears of Dawn

Legion Name: The Tears of Dawn

Legion Number: XX

Legion Strength: 75,000 Marines supported by The Knight Lances of Mithra and a large contingent of Auxilia. The Legion maintains a much larger contingent of Jetbikes and aerial mechanised forces than Legions of equivalent size. The Legion fleet also provides greater firepower than the size of the legion would suggest, however it does so through large numbers of smaller, faster, vessels.

Armour Appearance:
Legionary:


First Company:


Warcry: “Sol Invicta.” “The Dawn Breaks.” “For The Light Encarmine!”

Dramatis Personae:

Ahonsa Mensu: First Captain of the Tears of Dawn, Ahonsa is the second individual to hold this rank since the unification between Primach and Legion. A native of Mithra, she is young for her position, ambitious and utterly dedicated to Sekhmetara’s vision for the Legion. Ahonsa has a particular dislike to the Terran members of the Legion who have questioned her Primach’s willingness to place important duties on the shoulders of non-Astartes from Mithra. Unlike many of the high-ranking members of the Legion, she opts not to fight from atop a jetbike, instead having forged her career in the recon units that are so key to The Tears War Doctrine.

Kvasi Khafre: The Primach’s younger brother via her adoption into House Khafre, Kvasi forsoke his natural place as the primary heir of House Khafre to join Sekhmetara’s crusade. Almost as impulsive, bold and brilliant as the Primach herself, Kvasi acts as Sekhmetara’s primary liaison with the Knight Lances which fight alongside the Tears of Dawn. There are few individuals closer to the Primach than her adopted brother, but even the knights of other houses that accompany the Tears have a grudging respect for the tactical doctrines he has assisted in writing.

Isabis Khafre: Younger sister to both Sekhmetara and Kvasi, Isabis never ascended to pilot her own Questoris warsuit, but equally was beyond the age to become an astartes by the time of Mithra’s compliance. Rather than remain upon their homeworld or try to find another military role within the XX’s fleet, Isabis has instead become a rembrancer and orator of impressive ability, already considered among the most favoured across the Crusade. Unlike her two older siblings, she comes across, generally, with a softer approach, although she is just as often in the Primach’s company as a warrior-brother.

Bahati Khafre: One of the youngest surviving members of House Khafre, Bahati was able to be fully inducted into the Tears of Dawn, the only member of the noble house to have done so. Despite Sekhmetara’s fondness for those of her homeworld, Bahati has received no among of benefit from nepotism, although years after compliance, is now a Captain within the 6th Chapter. Bahati is a bold and aggressive officer even by the standards of the Tears of Dawn, and feels a burning desire to prove the strength of Mithra, the Tears, and House Khafre to the wider Imperium.

Chief Librarian Elosha Turna: One of the few remaining Terran Tears with a position in close proximity to the Primach after the death of First Captain Jeriah some years before, Elosha has been instrumental in helping the Primach to hone her psychic ability. Elosha is typical in mindset for the Terran Tears, being far more stoic than their Mithran sisters, but no less dedicated to the Primach and committed to her change of vision for the Legion. Sekhmetara and Elosha seem to have a genuinely close bond, rivalled only by those with her adopted family.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: The Tears of Dawn combine an approach which favours diplomatic resolutions to human compliance with a surge of brutal, if elegant, force. Small in terms of numbers for a Legion, the Tears boast a far greater arsenal of jetbikes and aerial strike craft than their number would suggest, the pilots of their Legion being famed across the Imperium and their fellow Legions. The war-doctrine of the Tears is to combine the anvil of their Imperial Army and Knight lance allies with the hammer of the Tears aerial drop-strikes, deploying via Storm Eagles, Thunderhawks and drop pods while the tide of their jetbike mounted warriors continue to sweep over the enemy. This approach is a substantial departure from their role before Sekhmetara was discovered by the Imperium, having been a mechanised infantry force dedicated to gruelling campaigns in some of the most problematic warzones, with a particular focus on extermination campaigns.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: While before the Tears of Dawn were subdued and sombre, rarely fighting alongside their fellow legions except when circumstance demanded it, and with little support from the other wings of the Imperial warmachine, they are now a vibrant display of warrior-culture centre around the spirit of Mithra. The Tears of Dawn are encouraged to have pursuits outside of their combat role in the Legion, although many still use this opportunity to hone more specialised or ritualistic martial pursuits. While the Legion itself is on the smaller side, their fleet is substantial, bearing a greater amount of Imperial Army elements alongside the Knights and Bondsmen of Mithra. Alongside these, are a great number of rembrancers and other civilian roles, which has formed the Tears fleet into a cultural hub among the stars. Within the Legion itself, particularly the Mithran-Born, many of the trappings of their birth culture survive, with warrior sisterhoods arranged around the themes and concepts of the Mithran Wild Gods. The exception to this is the faith of the Serpent Priests, last acts of Sekhmetara on her homeworld being to instigate various purges of the Empire of the Scale’s religion, even if she had grown up among it.

Relationships: TBC

The Scholomance: A Magic School RP

Been a while since I tried something new.
Interested!

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

“Call them.”

The tone was easy, but forceful, a command in all but tone. It didn’t have to be, the concept of refusal had been left behind long ago, years before Lubbock had pulled the damaged rat out of his hole in Seattle, a will broken by years of torment, only to find new suffering in freedom.

The labyrinthian streets of Los Angeles stretched out below them, a teeming hive of humanity lit by a billion motes of light, drenching the forested hills in darkness by contrast. Two figures inhabited the clearing, Lubbock stood, pacing around the area, while the other knelt. Surrounding the latter figure, runic symbols which hurt to look at, drawn in blood over the grass, stretched out. At seemingly random points, candles burned, faintly, in the night air. Human fat did not burn terribly well, but, it always paid to follow the recipe with these sorts of things.

“Call them.” The words were more insistent this time, betraying the impatience of a born killer, beneath the veneer of sophistication the toreador expressed. The kneeling figure made no noise. It had been some nights since Lubbock had removed their tongue, mostly in a fit of boredom. They’d lost their eyes long ago, plucked out for the crime of sharing the secrets of Clan Tremere, then cast into the bowls of the Seattle Madhouse. They were the true reason Lubbock had deigned to unseat the ruling parties of the Ivory Tower to the North. A city burned so that he might have one piece to his puzzle. The figure did not refuse, their lips moving to silently express the syllables of a spell, the drying blood stirring around them as the first spell was cast.

“Good.” It was a simple word, but it brought elation from the kneeling figure, a happy smile breaching the grimace of their ruined features. For the first time, Lubbock exuded approval, and to the being utterly caught in the power of his presence, it tasted finer than any taste of blood could have. The toreador approached the kneeling figure, slinking behind them, not breaking any of the symbols. He embraced the Tremere from behind, wrapping long, slender arms around them.

“Is your first wish still the same?” He asked her, the mute female kindred nodding slowly, but insistently, leaning back into the embrace. She rasped something that was almost a yes.

“Then I will burn them all for you. Rest well.” Lubbock spoke to her in a tone that was almost kind, before one finger pressed onto her chest. As easily as tearing paper, her ribcage gave in, Lubbock plucking her heart from her as simply as removing an apple from a crate. The Tremere gasped in final relief, before crumbling into ash. Lubbock was alone for only a few moments, before the pervasive dark of the night was interrupted by four stark motes of red. Stepping forth from these brief sparks, the Tremere of Los Angeles. Well, four of them.

There was a moment of confusion as they regarded the stooped figure of Lubbock, resting, as he appeared to be, at the centre of a large piece of Tremere spellwork. As he made to stand, he allowed some of his aura to bleed through into what would be visible to the trained eyes of more experience kindred. A tiny shred of his vast identity.
“You are not the traitor.” One finally spoke, the tallest. They were all clad in the red and black robes of their particular strain of Tremere, the surprisingly conservative chantry that Strauss lead on the Sunset Coast. Lubbock was disappointed he had not come himself, but then, perhaps he had some inkling of what had awaited his subordinates.

“Not the one you are looking for, no. You are a moment too late for that.” Lubbock rolled his shoulders as he spoke. In the low light, it finally became obvious that the finely dressed figure was covered in the ash of final death.

“You are interfering in Chantry business.” One of the others spoke, a female voice from within the obscuring hood and folds of her robes. Lubbock didn’t turn his attention as he spoke, his eyes dancing between all four Tremere, seemingly randomly.

“That is an unusual way of thanking me for doing your work for you.” He replied, seemingly adjusting his suit, heedless of the coat of ash preventing him from appearing as sophisticated as he had begun the night. The Tremere had begun to spread out, circling the spiraling patterns, their attention divided between watching the Toreador at the centre, and seeking to decipher the purposes of the spell. Naturally, they did not believe this could be spellwork of his design, instead of something their traitor had attempted, and been interrupted.

“Our arts are none of your concern, Toreador, her life was not yours to take.” The tall one spoke again, a long pale limb drawing forth from his robe, the taloned hand raising with a palm up. Already Lubbock could feel the draw of the Tremere’s blood magic. The air crackled with power and he inhaled steadily, through lungs that no longer needed to breathe. The moment the first syllables left their lips, he was in motion. The power of his own, stolen, blood thrummed and the world came to a halt. The air crackled with the force and speed of his form, the sleek, ash-covered Toreador moving beyond even the supernatural senses of his fellow Kindred. Before the first spell could be completed, one taloned hand had rent through the first kindred sorcerer, their precious vitae tumbling into the air, the power in their form sagging.

It was a dance of death, and few had practiced the steps for as long, with such enthusiasm, as Lubbock. He weaved through the crackling power of their air, the might of Thaumatergy sizzling the spaces he had occupied moments before. He was a being of power beyond these modern nights, but even he was weary of the touch of their magic, but they would never halt him. In the time it would take a mortal to even focus on the scene, the fight was over, the Tremere humbled, but not slain, kept on the brink of their unnatural lives.

“The Camarilla have taught you that you are the predators of the night, that human are sheep to be preyed upon, to be corralled and hunted.” Lubbock spoke as he returned to the centre of the runes, as the leaking blood of the Tremere flowed into the patterns already marked into the ground. His own fangs were slicked with their blood, granting him a temporary taste of the secrets they fought hard to keep. “That is a lie. You are the flock, the kine are grass. Bait to keep you in your little herds. Now comes the age of the true hunters.” His pace brought him to the centre, and he turned West, out towards the horizon, the great ocean that cast back the Light of Los Angeles and the Heavens above. As fluid as the water, his tongue switched from the bastardised modern tongue of the kine, to the old language. The intonations of Caine that his mother had taught him, before the Deluge had swept it all away.

“Arise, Ravnos, Arikel calls you, Rise, The Night Calls you once more.” As Lubbock spoke, he felt the pressure of his Sire’s mind within him even greater than before, felt the weight of eons, the voices of all the Kindred who he had consumed, or perhaps consumed him, rise to a crescendo in his mind. Then they were drowned in singular, unflinching, rage. The runes around him grew bright in the darkness, before Lubbock, and everything around him, was consumed in flame.

----------------

Henry’s eyes snapped from his view of the city, leaning as he was at the edge of the Sunset’s pool-balcony, his mind on the young kindred whom he had agreed to shelter, as a bright light scorched through the night behind him. He had missed the initial flash, but he knew with one heart beat that it had not been natural. He who had taught the first men the might of magic would know it anywhere, even bastardised by the Kindred and their ways.

The light that he saw, however, was far more mundane. The orange light of a new dawn poured down the Hollywood hills. A moment later and the surge of heated air and ash struck him, the wave passing over him. The clothing on his form singed, and only his supernatural physiology kept his skin from doing the same, kept the rush of air from blasting him from the ledge. Some of his guests weren’t so lucky, sent sprawling down the hillside below, or falling in pain as their skin blistered. This was on the prelude, the heatwave of a detonation, as he watched the hills of Hollywood come alive in flame, he knew the forest fire was not far behind, rushing down towards the city proper.

His phone was already ringing, and he was on the way to answer when enough sensation rocked him. Not a physical one, a pang in his soul, a wrenching dread as one of the many scattered pieces of his essence called out to him.

It was the beginning of the end.

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel & DC Comics RPG

Any restrictions for anyone wanting to play Power Girl? Back in the days of Ultimate Comic RP I had a version of the character I wouldnt mind returning to.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Rp is still chugging away and open!

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

I have reopened the Discord Server!

New Link: https://discord.gg/fkGBmZ9