Sooo, you made a sheet based around something even YOU made a bullet list describing it's OPness? Yeah, this is even beyond what I was planning to let you people get away with anyways. I invite you to maybe try rolling up another sheet, though?
Gravity Manipulation has also been barred for future use.
Me and Sam went over this, so I'll just parrot him on this one. Like the sheet, pretty much what I looked forward to when thinking about the Grand Armee. Only problem I have is length, but it's more than serviceable! I'd recommend maybe detailing a bit if you want, to appease the gnomes in my head.
I am not sure you grasp the core concepts of gravity manipulation, but it is OP by definition. Changing gravity by the smallest amount could cause a storm in an area, largely removing it could remove all air from a person's surroundings and that's just the basic stuff. I also don't really understand why you would try to make the frontline people weaker at miracles, but then proceed to give them more with the idea that this wouldn't just cause a lot of dissonance. There is very little reason NOT to be a spiritual angel if you can fly at will and everyone else has gibbed powers and are only good in close quarters, which a good mage should never really have to encounter.
Yes, which is why it is now removed from the OP.
Anyways, you're arguing... What, exactly? That we should ban it? We have, now.
"Changing gravity by the smallest amount could cause a storm in an area."
[sup][Citation Needed][/sup]
(In all seriousness, I couldn't find anything to prove or disprove this. Explain your logic, please?)
"largely removing it could remove all air from a person's surroundings"
In a closed system, or if you removed gravity in a large area, maybe. But this case is not a closed system, nor are you going to be controlling such a large area.
Step One: Gravity is turned down. People float up some, but air, being so light, floats all the way up. This leaves a vacuum.
Step Two: Vacuum fills with air.
Step Three: New air floats up as well.
Step Four: Repeat from step two until gravity is returned. (There'll be a pretty strong updraft, so that'd be a great way to fly, but not a good way to kill people.)
A quick google doesn't prove either of us right, but since I'm a GM and this is fiction, I get to say that's how things work in this universe.
Next point: I see the logic in the way we've got it set up. If you don't, that's fine, you don't have to play.
But, as an explanation: Malakh are supposed to be more versatile, especially in combat, with enhanced physiology (which the Rav'Malakh do not have.) They're weaker, but have access to more Miracles. Thus, they can fill more roles, but not as effectively as a Rav'Malakh dedicated to that role.
Rav'Malakh, on the other hand, are meant to be more for specialized, noncombat roles (though a Rav'Malakh is still viable in combat, just not as built for it.) They've got a wider range of (largely non combat) Innate Powers, but only one Miracle. Thus, they more or less have to chose one role to fill, with some powers on the side to help them survive.
Edit: Yeah, that was flippant. I expected people to exercise common sense. Silly me.
I am not sure you grasp the core concepts of gravity manipulation, but it is OP by definition. Changing gravity by the smallest amount could cause a storm in an area, largely removing it could remove all air from a person's surroundings and that's just the basic stuff. I also don't really understand why you would try to make the frontline people weaker at miracles, but then proceed to give them more with the idea that this wouldn't just cause a lot of dissonance. There is very little reason NOT to be a spiritual angel if you can fly at will and everyone else has gibbed powers and are only good in close quarters, which a good mage should never really have to encounter.
Yes, which is why it is now removed from the OP.
Anyways, you're arguing... What, exactly? That we should ban it? We have, now.
"Changing gravity by the smallest amount could cause a storm in an area."
[sup][Citation Needed][/sup]
(In all seriousness, I couldn't find anything to prove or disprove this. Explain your logic, please?)
"largely removing it could remove all air from a person's surroundings"
In a closed system, or if you removed gravity in a large area, maybe. But this case is not a closed system, nor are you going to be controlling such a large area.
Step One: Gravity is turned down. People float up some, but air, being so light, floats all the way up. This leaves a vacuum.
Step Two: Vacuum fills with air.
Step Three: New air floats up as well.
Step Four: Repeat from step two until gravity is returned. (There'll be a pretty strong updraft, so that'd be a great way to fly, but not a good way to kill people.)
A quick google doesn't prove either of us right, but since I'm a GM and this is fiction, I get to say that's how things work in this universe.
Next point: I see the logic in the way we've got it set up. If you don't, that's fine, you don't have to play.
But, as an explanation: Malakh are supposed to be more versatile, especially in combat, with enhanced physiology (which the Rav'Malakh do not have.) They're weaker, but have access to more Miracles. Thus, they can fill more roles, but not as effectively as a Rav'Malakh dedicated to that role.
Rav'Malakh, on the other hand, are meant to be more for specialized, noncombat roles (though a Rav'Malakh is still viable in combat, just not as built for it.) They've got a wider range of (largely non combat) Innate Powers, but only one Miracle. Thus, they more or less have to chose one role to fill, with some powers on the side to help them survive.
Edit: Yeah, that was flippant. I expected people to exercise common sense. Silly me.
I will take this as an invitation to bring in basic biology and physics.
#1: If your lungs lose the air in them and are surrounded by a vacuum, they will collapse and you will die just from that. The body is really fragile and fucking with gravity will ruin it badly.
#2: Atmospheric pressure dictates where clouds go. This can be altered by changing gravity by very small portions in such a way that one could create a low pressure area, which would bring in a massive number of rain clouds, and under extreme conditions would make a flash flood over a wide area.
#3: I assumed you wanted me to crush people with it over an area of about 2 meters. I took this into consideration, but now you must take into consideration that crushing someone with gravity would be about 200 G. You would kill them wayyyy before, but not crush them. Thus, all my math was derived from this, and it is solid. I can't be blamed for using a power that was put on the list in a way it would practically be able to work.
Anyway, Ruedyn and I had a good laugh over it and I am going to find another power somewhere that can be used in creative manners, because element bending bores me.
A note on his powers: I know they aren't specifically on the list, but I've cleared them with the GM, and worked out reasonable restrictions. Aside from that, flame away!
Name: Alain Faure
Sex: Male
Height and Weight: 6', 175 lbs
Physical Description: Brown hair and blue eyes. His frame is tall and athletic, and he's been commonly described as reasonably handsome. He dresses to avoid attention, especially in places controlled by the French, often wearing the clothes of commoners.
Personality: His visions have had a profound impact on his once brash and glory-seeking ways. Now his mood is often reflective and calm, painfully aware his actions have consequences and that glory is fleeting.
Faction: Libero Adstringo
Equipment: A simple sabre acts as his primary weapon in melee. He also still has the horse he used to desert the Grande Armee, though its advancing age is starting to take its toll on the poor beast.
Bio: Born to a common Parisian blacksmith, Alain's early life was unremarkable at best and boring at worst. From the day he was old enough to have a concept of such a thing, Alain felt he was destined for so much more than the dull life of an artisan. He dreamed of a life of adventure, one where his deeds would shake the foundations of the world and be remembered for all time. His father, on the other hand, feared this bold nature would be his undoing, and so worked to keep him from leaving Paris or getting involved in the politics and violence of the Revolution.
Alain, however, could not be swayed. Almost as though he were bidden by an instinct buried deep within his mind, Alain learned the trade of forging weapons from his father, and, in secret, took it upon himself to learn how to use them to their utmost. In particular was one sword he forged by his own hands - a simple but sturdy sabre made of folded steel. The day he turned twenty-one, he slipped from his father's home to volunteer in Napoleon's l'Grand Armee, leaving his simple life behind him.
Much to his frustration, however, his status as a commoner prevented him from moving up in the ranks. While he fought harder and better than any of his compatriots, he was still a mere footsoldier! Growing angry with his continued obscurity, Alain made a rash move - an appeal directly to Jean-Baptiste Jourdan. Surely, Alain thought, a man that was also once a common soldier would understand! Impressed with the boy's bravado, if nothing else, Jourdain allowed him to take part in his cavalry. Picking up the skills involved with a remarkable speed, he came to become one of the company's most promising new recruits.
Then the battle at Austerlitz happened.
Shortly after Alain's company successfully charged a flank, they captured an entourage of surrendering Austrian troops - including several officers. Alain watched in horror as these prisoners were lined up after Napoleon had won, made to kneel, and executed before his very eyes. Was this the glory he sought? To murder unarmed men as they begged and pleaded for their life?
When the last prisoner lay in the dirt, his hands bound and his face sobbing, his officer handed Alain a pistol, and ordered him to take part, saying that this was the reality of war. Alain cocked the gun, pressed it to the man's neck... and stood there, unable to pull the trigger. Thrice he was ordered to shoot, and thrice Alain remained silent. The fourth time was accompanied by his officer pulling his own gun, barking a threat to shoot should he continue to disobey. This time Alain spoke - to flatly refuse.
The world slowed to a crawl. Alain could see the bullet leave the chamber. It was too late to move... but then his mind was filled with a vision, as though a message from God himself, and he saw. How to move to dodge the bullet. How to step to move next to his officer's side. How the man, in his surprise, would not resist as Alain drew his sword and drove it into his chest. And then the vision was over, and in the present his instincts took over, guiding him down that exact path.
Shocked at such an unnatural maneuver, the other men in Alain's company scattered, screaming a demon had possessed him. Indeed, even as Alain moved to free the prisoner, he shied away, his eyes bulging with fear. In a pool of water to his right, Alain saw why - his eyes glowed with an unearthly blue light before fading away a moment later. Despite the man's struggling, Alain freed him and told him of the best way to escape the Grande Armee, by fleeing down a small mountain pass to the south. With that, Alain took his horse, removed anything he would not need to flee pursuers, and promptly deserted.
For over a week he fled, moving from village to village. The night after he managed to give Napoleon's men the slip, he had a vision - of an army, working in secret. Composed of men and women like himself. Working with a divine purpose to end this pointless, bloody war.
Physical Description: Cyrus has shoulder-length black hair, oily green eyes and a brown skin complexion. He has the shadow of a beard and looks like he?s in his twenties. Cyrus wears a coat made of bear fur, a thick red scarf, a simple peasant?s tunic, a pair of black pants and thick winter boots. He wears a silver cross on a chain over his neck.
Personality: An honest and noble person, Cyrus will always do what he thinks is good. He is a devout Christian and holds himself to strong moral values. He believes actions speak louder than words and can sometimes be overly-brazen. Cyrus is also xenophobic of European culture, considering it to be morally backwards.
Faction: Russia
Equipment: A former woodsman?s axe repurposed and refurnished to be a steel tool of war. He also has an oak/iron shield with the cross emblazoned on it, a wooden cavalry lance and a Russian Don horse.
Bio: When Cyrus was very young, his Persian parents fled from the Kazakh lands to Siberia for reasons he will never know. Whether it was due to bandits, wild animals or the sheer cold, both of his parents died during their travel. Cyrus wandered through the woods freezing and terrified, but was luckily found by a pair of local hunters. The men took Cyrus back to their village and, taking pity upon the poor boy, let him stay there.
Cyrus was given a home in the local church which fed him, sheltered him and educated him in Orthodox Christianity. He learned how to both speak and read Russian overtime. As Cyrus grew older, he sought to repay the generosity of the villagers. He constantly sought out work and always offered a helping hand to others. By the time he was a teenager, the Russians had warmed up to Cyrus enough that they considered him one of their own.
Life isn't all rainbows and sunshine though, especially not in Siberia. For over a decade the village was harassed by a gang of criminal exiles from the Western Rus. The outlaws frequently stole grain, goats, drink and religious trinkets from the locals. Cyrus would occasionally stand up and try to talk down the thugs, remembering the moral lessons he was taught by the church. These would usually result in the criminals spitting on Cyrus, calling him a ?mudskin? and waving around their guns while making death threats.
Eventually Cyrus learned to control himself and endure the torment of the bandits. Throughout his teenage years he pursued priesthood, wishing to join the Orthodox Church which has taught him so much. When he reached manhood though, Cyrus had a change of heart. He reluctantly put his future as a priest aside, wanting to marry his childhood friend and longtime crush Katarina before joining the church.
Before either of those could come to be, tragedy struck. One day the outlaws came by and decided to steal women from the village this time. Cyrus couldn't hold himself back any longer and struck out at one of the criminals, cutting off his arm with a woodsman?s axe. The leader of the gang responded by shooting him in the chest. They then snatched Katarina when they saw her rush over to try and treat his wound.
Miraculously Cyrus recovered, and he was filled with a thirst for vengeance. The day after he announced that he would charge into the bandits? lair, free their captives and kill as many of the scum he could before dying himself. Inspired by such suicidal bravery, a dozen other villagers offered to join Cyrus in his raid.
While ordinarily such a ragtag band would have been cut down with ease, Cyrus managed to slaughter the criminals almost single-handedly. For some reason his blows were stronger, his body tougher, and was able to swing his axe like a trained warrior. This day marked his ascension to a Malakh.
Although they managed to save some of the women, most, including Katarina, had already been dragged off to the Black Sea to be sold as slaves. Filled with bloodlust and vengeance, Cyrus and his comrades swore to travel across Russia until they found their friends. And so they travelled from the Taiga Forests to the Volga River, killing any outlaws that got in their way.
It wasn't long before rumours of a dark-skinned angel leading a band of former priests and villagers on a bloody, miniature crusade through Siberia became known fact. The Tsar?s men soon found Cyrus, who they tried to persuade into joining the army?s service. Cyrus was not interested at first, but became concerned when the Tsar?s men told him about the "antichrist" Napoleon. They said that Napoleon was trying to conquer Russia and that if he succeeded he would devastate peasant life for all more than any gang of bandits.
After weighing his options, Cyrus believed that defending Russia from Napoleon the most morally righteous thing he could do. Thus he entered the Tsar?s service and was sent to the frontlines as the ?Dark Angel of Siberia?.
Height and Weight: 6"2, roughly 235 Ibs (it wasn?t without reason he was called "the bear")*
Physical Description: Having a thick, somewhat bushy, beard to accompany his rather messy and roughly cut head of dark brown hair, Artyom is a 41 year old baby giant, with a smile or a grin a common enough expression. While his belly is plenty round enough, this is offset by a thick set of arms and legs that are more used to physical work, with body hair more used to the cold. On his chest is a noticeable scar of five claws raked across his chest. Commonly wears fur or sheepskin jackets when the cold really sets in, accompanied by thick trousers and boots, though otherwise wears an army uniform coat (which he wears with a certain amount of pride) with a small angel-wings pin to identify his position. He is also fond of wearing thick leather working gloves to protect his already very worn and marked hands.
Personality: The term, 'boisterous' comes to mind: Artyom seems to be on a mission to find something to laugh (more guffaw, really) and grin about in every situation, and is easily entertained because of it. This is marked, however, by the general agreement that he seems to take this war FAR too lightly: he views the campaign as a challenge, another obstacle to overcome, another test of strength to surpass. Despite this worrying tendency, he makes it his business to be as open and approachable to his fellow's in arms, and easily trusts others, though can be more a problem as he is slow to think ill of those he considers allies. However, the bear has claws, and he is more than willing to use them against the enemies of his homeland, albeit with a worrying grin.
Faction: Russia
Equipment: Prefers to use his hands in melee combat, and wrestles his enemies to the ground with as much finesse and grace as you would imagine someone called 'the bear' would, though it gets the job done. However fully appreciates the kick from a gun, and carries the standard rifle, accompanied two pistols (claims one isn't enough), though is probably less proficient with them as his is with his bare hands.
Bio:
Artyom has always been a man of the simple things in life: born out in the country amidst the heavy snows of the Russian winter, he was raised playing in the cold of the seasons and running down empty roads during the warmth of summer and spring, all while being taught the work he was expected to do when he was older. However, he started physical work much sooner than expected; despite being quite a big child when he was born (to the point where many had worried about his mother's health after she gave birth, but she had bounced back), he was only around fourteen years old when he could fell a small tree with a axe by himself, albeit with several missed attempts and swings, and the fact he was often left exhausted afterwards.
However, this may have worked against him in the short term: his head was filled with praise from his friends and family of how his strength often outmatched that an average man at his age of eighteen, and he walked with a swagger and an overconfidence that often left others in a foul mood of being around him. It was in one of his trips towards a nearby wood that he spotted a tall tree, just poking above the tree line, and he decided, in all his hubris, that he would journey much farther and deeper into the woods then necessary to fell the tree and drag it back to his home, to prove once and for all that he was the strongest man in his community.
Actually getting to the tree was of no issue; he had learned to traverse the land around his home long ago, though it came as quite a shock when he discovered a small den of bears beneath the roots of the tree. Panicking when the mother bear emerged and was very clearly aggravated at his being there, he haphazardly threw his wood cutting axe at the animal, clipping its shoulder, causing it to roar with rage and charge him.
He was lucky to escape the woods with just a lasting scar on his chest and other minor wounds, but it left him shuck up for days after, fearing the bear he had managed to escape would find him and finish the job. However, as time went on, he began to see the event in a different light: the bear had been a consequence of his hubris, and could have been some kind of divine punishment, but if that was so it would be odd it had left him alive instead of killing him. His father had never been an amazingly pious man, just saying grace before large meals and praying before bed, but neither he nor his son had any sort of reason to believe in God. However, despite his agnostic self, Artyom found himself wondering if it hadn?t been a sign from a higher power.
Following that day, Artyom had not only been more humble, but had started to admire the powerful and brutal creature had spared him that day.
It was when he was just turning 38, and he had grown not only stronger, but also more jovial, that he had 'earned his wings.' He and his wood cutting crew were just dropping off some lumber to sell in a small town, when a sudden scream caused them to snap their view to the town's chapel, and the smoke that was quickly consuming the building. Quickly, they had rushed to see what had happened, and saw that the wooden supports of the stone building were being reduced to cinders and the whole thing would collapse. Worse still, the priest and two choir boys were still inside. While his friends and the town folk started to fetch water and attempted to control the blaze, Artyom joined those attempting to batter open the doors which were blocked by collapsing ceiling within. When the worst was cleared, Artyom shoulder barged the flimsily rubble aside, suffering numerous burns and splinters of wood, and quickly pushed his way through the blaze. He emerged with a collapsed choir boy under each arm, and was about to dive back in for the priest, before the entire structure collapsed, luckily with none but the priest inside.
Though regretful he couldn't save the man, Artyom was glad he could save the children. Though, it was odd it hear the tale be retold to him by a thankful onlooker: as they told it, there was a thunderous roar like a wounded animal as the beams of wood groaned and creaked, and had Artyom been a moment longer, he would have been killed. Though he thought it was just the appreciation of being alive, he gave little thought that the snow around him seemed almost brighter, like a ray of light glowed down from heaven.
Only a year later, he signed up for the army at the growing threat of war, and joined the artillery division. After it was discovered he could push an entire cannon by himself, that others whom he talked to seemed much more lively then before, and that there were growing rumours of his startlingly ability to 'predict' the weather, a official from higher up the chain of command offered him a new type of growing office...
Type of Angel: Malakh
Miracles: - Weather manipulation: his time spent outdoors and in nature has led to him making startlingly accurate ?predictions? of the weather after his powers started to show themselves, which then led to him realizing that he had some influence of the clouds above his head. And of course, a bear hidden in a misty snow storm is the twice the dangerous bear.
- Purification: Has found that his friendly nature has actually affected people who seemed down or outright depressed a lot more after his powers started to shine through, and quickly realized a part of his angelic gift allowed him to lift both the broken and down beaten spirits of his comrades, a skill he is more than happy then to use.
Sorry if the bio kind of turned out pretty long.
*Of course, for an actual bear, that's actually somewhat short, and pretty damn light, in terms of height and weight, but everything within reason, right?
GMs have been busy dealing with personal problems, so please accept our apologies. The RP is still on track and should begin Friday evening, American Central time.
The only problem I really have (and it is honestly not much of a criticism) is that his backstory never mentions him using his wind manipulation. And that's not even a problem worth editing for, just something I noticed.
So, good sheet.
So, with that, I am happy to announce that only one of you- DrM- had to be rejected. The rest of you are in! I'll make the group tomorrow, and Ruedyn and I will begin work on the first post... Soonish.
[HEADING=2]If anyone is still preparing a sheet, feel free to post it here. Submissions are not, and likely will not be, closed.[/HEADING]
deathbydeath said:
Wow, this thread exploded since I last checked up on it. A sheet is in progress, but I must ask: do the Libero welcome aimless capitalists?
EDIT: A second question: where does this take place? I know Europe, but a specific country would be appreciated.
Crap, nearly missed your question.
I think we talked about this on Skype, but basically, yes. So long as they're working towards the Libero's goals.
European Russia, for the most part.
Erm, just feel like I should mention this here before it really gets started: I am still pretty new to this kind of thing, so if I do something wrong, just let me know, since I wouldn't want to screw this up for the rest of y'all, hehehe... >_>'""
Erm, just feel like I should mention this here before it really gets started: I am still pretty new to this kind of thing, so if I do something wrong, just let me know, since I wouldn't want to screw this up for the rest of y'all, hehehe... >_>'""
It's fine! All of us had to start somewhere.
If you have any questions, feel free to pm Ruedyn or I. I won't speak for other players, but they'd probably be willing to help you out, too.
Erm, just feel like I should mention this here before it really gets started: I am still pretty new to this kind of thing, so if I do something wrong, just let me know, since I wouldn't want to screw this up for the rest of y'all, hehehe... >_>'""
You scratch my back, I'll stab yours. I mean, give advice. I like to think I'm a veteran of the RP forums, so feel free to milk my month's worth of experience for all you can!
Fuuuuuuuuuck, I'm late in posting this. Blame long-ass bios.
Name: Tristan Moreau
Sex: Male
Height and Weight: Stands round 5'8"-5'9" and weighs in the 175 lbs range (80-ish kgs for those across the Atlantic)
Physical Description: He's physically identical to ye olde humans, with none of that wing/super strength shit. Physically, he cuts his light brown hair to just above his ears and shaves himself regularly, preferring an absence of facial hair. Tristan tries to carry himself with elegance, but his humble origins are evident from within a few minutes of extensive conversation with him, due to his reliance to vulgar mannerisms and diction.
Personality: He's surprisingly worry-free. At this point in life he's thoroughly anti-despotism, which leads him to taking a more neutral stance on the war; his main hope for the conflict is that all sides end up relatively independent, for a number of reasons. As a remnant of earlier antebellum days, Tristan is a decent shot with a pistol, but he hardly ever enters a conflict when there are other, less stupid options (especially when they involve transactions). He comes off as the cocky sort of confident, but this is primarily due to his lackadaisical attitude.
Faction: Libero
Equipment: Whenever it'a appropriate, Tristan carries a pistol. In addition to his firearm, Tristan usually has a hefty coin purse on him, and it is generally concealed or subtle, a habit from his years on the road.
Humble origins are a bit of an understatement when referring to Tristan Moreau. Despite their humility, though, his origins enamored him with a thing called "profit". He was quite the salesman growing up, and when he considered himself an adult, he gave everyone he cared about a hug and a kiss before setting off into the sunrise in search of new adventures and market trends. His early career as a travelling salesman had its ups and downs, but overall is was a mixture of freedom and challenge that thoroughly hooked him.
In the following stage of his life, Tristan began to do quite well for himself. He would buy capital after hearing rumors and numbers at dinner one night, then he would offload it in another town with a quick pitch and a smile. This became his status quo, with the scale of his dealings slowly snowballing larger and larger. Eventually, he hired staff and guards to assist him, and a few months after this he was approached by a family of lesser nobility. He obliged their invitation (and the offered meal) and he was not surprised at all when the family wanted to talk business. Their financial matters had recently gone south, semi-literally, and the patriarch was quite eager to refill their coffers through most any means. He offered Tristan a place in the family alongside his most attractive unwed daughter, named Adriana, and Moreau accepted, although he allowed both parties time to prepare by taking on one final job. When he returned, vows were exchanged and hands were shaken as Tristan Moreau became a proud member of the Michel family.
The first six months of marriage and his new life were wonderful. Acquiring Tristan's skills had been a wise decision on the Michel's part, and Tristan adapted well to the changes, although they were few. He still went on trips with caravans and guards, but they were more sporadic and he generally took one or two of his brothers-in-law with him. As a common activity to participate with his new family, Tristan took up pistol marksmanship, and his new siblings were quite effective teachers, as was Tristan with regards to business. Unfortunately though, such good things were doomed to be short-lived. One evening, while shuffling through the family's paper stacks in search for a bill of sale, Tristan discovered several correspondences, including the initial draft of a contract designed to strip him of authority and remaining possession of his trading company. Initially furious yet later filled with panic, Tristan set out gathering his original team that he had before marrying into the Michels. After his planning was finished, Tristan spent a final, passionate evening with Adriana that was interspersed with several subtle goodbyes. When she finally slept, Tristan left an explicit goodbye in the guise of a letter on his pillow before escaping through a window and making off with his most precious possession. (Addendum: At this point in the story the date is early March 1812)
As he resumed his life on the road, he started out selling the provisions he "repossessed", as the stockpiled food and supplies would be quite handy for certain villages after the winter months and technically they were labelled "Tristan" on the sides anyway (he ignored the additional "Michel"). His adventures thus far were not that successful; he was travelling in the wake of Napolean's forces as they congregated in and around Prussia and Warsaw, for obvious reasons. The civilian population was understandably tight on funds, yet for the most part they were lucky enough that they didn't desperately need what Tristan was offering, so for the most part he was running at a loss. Things hardly got better, though, because he was alerted in the middle of the night by one of his guards that heard gunfire in the distance. Closer investigation revealed a nearby detachment of French combatants, and so Tristan decided to bail, cutting his losses and fleeing before the bad situation got worse. When himself and company were at a safe distance from the fighting, they went to sleep again, agreeing to get a late start because of the disruptions.
That night, Tristan had a strange dream. Not only did he remember it upon waking up, but it consisted of an unfamiliar yet undeniably divine figure approaching and congratulating him for his good deeds. It promised him guidance and a place in events to come, as well as its favor and power to once again bring light where it was needed. Tristan awoke, and nothing was amiss. As is nothing had changed, Tristan & Co. continued their travels and headed towards a nearby village. Upon arriving in town, much of what could be heard were shouts of praise to God and Tristan Michel. Upon investigation, Tristan (he didn't give his real name to the townsfolk) learned that the village had recently been through difficult times. Forces passing by interfered with the food stored away for winter, and winter in the 19th century isn't easy. As many people do when in rough situations, they prayed. It took a week, but their prayers were answered in the form of crates of food. None of them recognized the name Tristan Michel, and there was not a single soul in sight. Such an impressive load of cargo could not have been there unintentionally, and of course everyone was hungry. After the explanation he received from the mayor, Tristan smiled gently, said farewell, turned around, and left. He is not a man prone to charity, but the thought of enriching the lives of a village through accident and a slight of chance was heartwarming to him.
A week later after he manifested his abilities, Tristan was approached by a man claiming to be fighting for freedom. With Tristan being the fan of liberty that he is, he listened. He was informed of the organization's goals, their methods, and the role that people "like him" will play in the upcoming conflict. After a bit of negotiating, Tristan accepted. He refuses to give up his life of salesmanship, but he's willing to tone it down for the time being, given his aligned viewpoint with the Libero.
Type of Angel: Malakh
Miracles: Mr. Moreau does the whole 'Light Manipulation' thing, but the current definition is wrong. He can't generate light or make it go away, he simply bends it instead (focus, disperse, send it constantly spinning in circles to make it look like it went away, etc.). I also don't know if this was mentioned, but if he's knocked unconscious or killed then the light he was affecting obeys physics again. I'm also certain this wasn't on the list, but Tristan wants a horse summon. You know, a magnificent celestial beast of light that obeys his commands and can be summoned/dismissed at his will. Come on, I'm giving up literally everything else except a single miracle that can't hurt a fly. He deserves to be a kickass cavalryman.
One final note on the LM: While Tristan's light powers would certainly allow for invisibility, the skill required to do so would only be something triggered by an event in the plot, and making himself invisible (or something of comparable size) would wear his ass out.
Erm, just feel like I should mention this here before it really gets started: I am still pretty new to this kind of thing, so if I do something wrong, just let me know, since I wouldn't want to screw this up for the rest of y'all, hehehe... >_>'""
It's fine! All of us had to start somewhere.
If you have any questions, feel free to pm Ruedyn or I. I won't speak for other players, but they'd probably be willing to help you out, too.
Erm, just feel like I should mention this here before it really gets started: I am still pretty new to this kind of thing, so if I do something wrong, just let me know, since I wouldn't want to screw this up for the rest of y'all, hehehe... >_>'""
You scratch my back, I'll stab yours. I mean, give advice. I like to think I'm a veteran of the RP forums, so feel free to milk my month's worth of experience for all you can!
Thanks you guys, this noobie is now a lot more happy instead of worrying so much ^_^.
Just as a quick question: will the actual RP being taking place in a new thread, or will we just convert this one into the game?
So I probably should have known better than to try and pin the first post to an exact time.Life has a way of making sure it doesn't work out- I haven't had a computer all day, and Ruedyn is dealing with personal issues. Good times all around. We'll try and get the post up... Soonish. This weekend sometime, hopefully.
In the meantime:
deathbydeath said:
Fuuuuuuuuuck, I'm late in posting this. Blame long-ass bios.
[HEADING=3]Rules[/HEADING] Premise: Your character has been dubbed a "Seraph," a warrior blessed by the heavens with superhuman abilities. Whether or not your character is righteous or moral is irrelevant; your character has been granted these powers without any fanfare after committing a single exemplary deed. Seraphs are considered more than human (but less than a God, of course). They possess unimaginable strength, mastery over human crafts, and holy powers beyond comprehension. Now the armies of Russia and France are scrambling to recruit these admirable warriors in the hopes of favorably turning the tides of the escalating war.
Name: Your name. Dur. Sex: Gender, specifically. Physical Appearance: Height, weight, eye color, hair color, six-pack or lack thereof. Faction: Choose whether to side with Russia, France, or the Libero Adstringo. Primary Weapon: Choose one melee weapon or a secondary firearm that you are superhumanly skilled with. Primary Firearm: Choose one ranged weapon from the Napoleonic Era. Bio: What gives your Seraph drive? Is there a sordid past behind the wings? Or is there simply a burning desire to deliver justice unto the world? Ham it up, beef it up, just make a fun biography! Miracle: The fun stuff. Choose one and only one Miracle that defines your Seraph (Seraphim already possess all Powers btw).
Miracles and Powers: The powers of the Seraphim are divided into Miracles(distinct and powerful abilities) and Powers(passive qualities). A Miracle is what defines a Seraph, how it acts, how it fights, while Powers are general qualities that set the Seraph above typical humans.
Seraphim need not be pious or even just decent people to have been blessed with their powers. The backstory of your character is up to you, as are the abilities you are capable of selecting - within reason. You can't have a hyper-kinetic messiah-figure who melts people with his mind. Partly because I already called that character.
[HEADING=3]List of Seraphic abilities[/HEADING]
Nobody can say who granted these powers or for what reason, but one thing is for certain: these Seraphs are about to alter the course of European history.
Following are several lists which show what abilities are specific to which Seraphim. Every Seraphim has access to every Power, but only to one Miracle.
Miracles
Somatic Ballistics: You have a pouchful of bullets and no musket? No problem? With a flick of your finger, you can strike nearby targets with the force of even the strongest firearm and with even greater accuracy. If you possess a bullet-sized object, you are capable of throwing it with the ballistic force of a musket Model 1777, though not more than 100 yards (so you don't snipe people without breaking a sweat).
Weather Manipulation: You'll find the clouds part and gather as you will them. A convenient cloak of fog may arise to cover your escape from pursuers. Snow may trickle from the sky, making enemy soldiers just a little more uncomfortable about their fires. A Seraph with weather manipulation may gradually will different conditions of weather, but the effect on an individual level is as only as strong as a breeze light enough to make a candle flicker. Weather within a ten-mile radius adheres to your desires for roughly three hours per day.
Light Bending: A little trickery can go a long way. A Seraph who can bend light has the ability to create illusions, mirages, and other magical visual effects. Maybe it's a talent that only has its place in parties, but who can say whether it wouldn't just as easily work on the battlefield? It is possible to bend light that is cast about the Seraph within ten yards.
Blood Drive: Where there is blood, there is power! Merely by touching a human being, this Seraph can suck out every drop of blood. Furthermore, the individual's strength becomes the Seraph's for one day. Touching the bare skin of a human will allow the Seraph to absorb all of the blood in the target's body. The target's physical strength becomes the Seraph's for twenty-four hours.
Unwritten Pages: Do you have your papers? If not, then a Seraph like this may be a good friend. The paper the Seraph manifests unravels from the body itself, and it feels like heavenly calfskin (though other Seraphim are warned not to touch it). The Seraph is capable of releasing thin tendrils of sturdy parchment from the fingertips. This parchment is not easily broken like regular parchment, and it stings when it comes into contact with the exposed skin of another Seraph though not enough to be a serious threat to health. Up to twenty-five total meters of vellium parchment may be unwound from the body. It has the strength of copper wire.
Censer of Bartholomew: From every pore in the body the Seraph is capable of emitting a sweetened aroma. The aroma is capable of either calming other individuals in the vicinity or pushing them into a mindless, aggressive frenzy. Once per day the Seraph may emit an invisible cloud of incense. The Seraph may choose whether this cloud calms people into a state of oblivious complacency or riles them up until they begin attacking one another. Seraphim resist these spores.
Duplicity: Two heads is better than one. And four hands are better than two. Same with legs. As a matter of fact, why not just have two people altogether? You can split yourself into a second entity. Better yet, the entity retains all the combat talents, suave conversational abilities, and dashing good looks as your own good self. Create a clone of yourself for two hours per day. The clone can be controlled by thought and with about as much mental effort as it takes to add 1 + 1 in your head. The clone is formed by stepping out of your body, so to speak, which may undoubtedly concern onlookers. After a twenty-four hour period, the clone disappears and must be summoned again.
Spiritual Companion (Celestial Steed): The heavens have graced the battlefield with the four horses of the underworld: Sahar, a fair white; Salem, an obsidian black; the third, Sapas, with an unassuming dapple-gray coat; and finally, Sonora, a golden bronze mare. A Seraph may command one of these four magnificent horses at a time, and will find them useful friends indeed. A celestial steed is capable of running twice as fast as even the speediest thoroughbred, and has enough stamina to run for hours without tiring, though it doesn't have the fortitude or combat prowess of the Guardian Wolf. Only one of the four horses may be summoned at a time, and any injuries a horse sustains will require one full day of rest before it's capable of being summoned again. Your companion may be summoned for up to six hours per day.
Spiritual Companion (Wolf): Besides the celestial steeds, another star was gifted unto the Seraphim: the Guardian Wolf, Seth. Seth fiercely protects his master, though he retains a rather frosty demeanor and sarcastic undertone. The wolf is roughly four feet high when on all fours, and easily shrugs off bullets or sabres unless they're wielded by other Seraphim. Your companion may be summoned for up to six hours per day.
Spiritual Companion (Royal Herd): Whether you want somewhere soft to sleep, some friends who will listen to you no matter how inconvenient it is, or you're just feeling peckish, the Royal Herd suits every need! Summon a herd of sheep whose wool provides better warmth than twenty layers of coats! Or, perhaps you can cook them and serve up the mutton for an impromptu meal? Shepherd's choice! Summon up to sixteen fat sheep per day, as many at a time as desired. The sheep may be dismissed and resummoned as many times per day as desired. The wool of the sheep provides immeasurable warmth and the serving of mutton can fill a man for an entire day.
Form (Invisible): Maybe you're at a party and need a breather, or perhaps you're on a commission to assassinate a politician and need a reliable way of getting behind him without his cadre of butlers noticing you. A Seraph who can turn invisible cannot be seen by normal humans, providing a convenient method of getting into places one doesn't belong. The Seraph can be seen by other Seraphim, however, and interacts with the world normally. Invisibility can only be maintained for thirty-minute bursts, and only once a day. A Seraph who can shift their body into a non-organic form can still be nullified by another Seraph.
Form (Flame): Most people around a Seraph whose body can morph into fire tend to feel a little hot under the collar, although they don't complain in a brutal winter night. Fire-shifting requires mental concentration, so a Seraph caught off-guard can be injured if attacked. However, maintaining a fire form requires little energy and can theoretically be maintained perpetually. A Seraph who can shift their body into a non-organic form can still be nullified by another Seraph.
Form (Snow): The Seraph who can turn into snow isn't as popular as one who turns into flame, though snow has its uses, especially in impromptu snowball fights. Snow-shifting requires mental concentration, so a Seraph caught off-guard can be injured if attacked. However, maintaining a snow form requires little energy and can theoretically be maintained perpetually. A Seraph who can shift their body into a non-organic form can still be nullified by another Seraph.
Form (Iron): The phrase "iron fist" is perhaps doubly relevant for this Seraph. Or maybe just singly true if the Seraph isn't a leader. Either way this miracle allows for the wondrous transmutation of the body into solid iron, but that doesn't mean you need to give up red meat! Iron-shifting requires mental concentration, so a Seraph caught off-guard can be injured if attacked. However, maintaining an iron form requires little energy and can theoretically be maintained perpetually. A Seraph who can shift their body into a non-organic form can still be nullified by another Seraph.
Powers
Wing Manifestation / Flight: A Seraph regularly possesses a magnificent pair of wings capable of granting flight. Although they're a perk of being a Seraph (and a useful one at that), wings are rather conspicuous. Any Seraph can hide his or her wings and manifest them at will.
Imagery Conveyance: Suppose you want to explain to an individual what exactly a chiffonier looks like, but you can't use words. Imagery conveyance allows you to implant at will an image into your friend's mind. One kicker to this ability is that dreams influenced in this manner are actually easily recalled by the subject.You can plant any image you can think of in the mind of up to one hundred individuals. This is not a spiritually tiring ability, but other Seraphim are more mentally prepared to block disruptive imagery.
Empathy: Seraphim can discern the emotions of regular humans without the need for words. A Seraph cannot use this Power on another Seraph.
Skillful Combat (Weapon Proficiency): What takes decades of practice for the most ardent masters to hone in skill, a Seraph is readily given. The Seraphim possess higher-than-average combat skills and can be a formidable presence on the battlefield. A Seraph must choose one weapon in which he or she is terrifyingly proficient in using. This Power does not conflict with a Miracle in case either require one proficiency.
Superior Durability: The downside of being next to godlike in battle is having to watch all the mortals around you fall like flies, but the ability to take way more punishment from steel and shrapnel is arguably worth the trade-off.
Regeneration: Seraphim are like starfish! Pretty and able to regrow limbs when they get hacked off. A serious injury, while painful, will heal after roughly four hours.
Superior Strength: Seraphim possess the strength of a dozen regular soldiers, sometimes even more.
[HEADING=3]Factions[/HEADING]
So here's where the scenario will begin unfolding. Each faction has its members who will react upon the situation as it begins to play out. By the way, Russia doesn't actually confront France in Moscow, canonically, so there will be several diplomatic issues to contend with before some serious fighting actually gets underway.
France and Russia: The French army is a hodgepodge of nationalities (though almost all generals are assuredly French), so it wouldn't be unusual to see a few non-French Seraphim in the ranks. The ranks of Russia, having been thoroughly trounced in Smolensk, rely now on a scorched-earth strategy of retreat. General Field Marshal Barclay de Tolly leads the disheartened soldiers further into the Russia, sending out groups of cossacks to harry the Grand Army as it marches relentlessly in pursuit. Now, having been denied easy access to St. Petersburg, Napoleon himself leads the forces to Moscow where the fate of both armies will be decided.
Libero Adstringo: The covert rebellious organization has remained an observer for the majority of Napoleon's ruthless campaign, but with the dictator's army threatening to behead the Russian resistance, Requiem has called all cells to action. A small, albeit powerful, group of liberators has been inserted into Moscow. Among these liberators, and unbeknownst to either Napoleon or the Czar, are Seraphim warriors capable of turning the tide of battle in the city.
[HEADING=3]Leaders[/HEADING]
So here's the skinny one who should be leading whom, and keep in mind, I'm not a scholar when it comes to the Napoleonic Wars, so feel free to PM me with any complaints, amendments, etc. Next up is a summary of each faction! That might be tomorrow. I'll keep watching for people who may wanna join! So far the Grand Army may need recruits, Russia's okay, and the Libero Adstringo is quite popular.
Napoleon (Grand Army): One of the most renowned "dictators" on the field and in the office, Napoleon has proven himself a reputable tactician in his previous years of service in the French military. In spite of these accolades, however, his recent spat with Czar Alexander I and subsequent invasion of Russia have many observers concerned for their leader's, and their country's, future.
Czar Alexander I (Russia): Alexander the Blessed, an epithet the emperor of Russia earned by way of his religious proclivities, was never a driven man. After Napoleon demanded cooperation from the Russian empire in the growing domination of Europe, Alexander declared the dictator's actions immoral, and relations with France deteriorated rapidly. With the French army at Russia's front door, Alexander will find himself hard-pressed to resist Napoleon's ambition.
Requiem (Libero Adstringo): Few people, if any, know who Requiem truly is, or if Requiem is even one person. The leader's orders are often passed by mouth and, less frequently, in written cipher. One thing is certain about the entity, however: it is ruthlessly efficient in manipulating what few resources it has in the Libero Adstringo. Requiem will undoubtedly become a thorn in the side of any prospective ruler-of-state in the battles to come.
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