Riseagain: The World Above [Info Dump]

Aero Blue

he hears his master's voice
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  1. One post per week
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5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
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  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Douche
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
[ general lore: ripped wholesale and copy-pasted from the interest check! yay! ]​

  • I am often asked questions of a simple yet foundational nature; “how did we come to know of magicks?”, and “how come we live beneath the ground and the colorless sun?”. Let me begin, then, by instructing:

    Eons ago, there was this absolute wanker of a deity name of Kotodama, who liked to profess himself as ‘Grand Lord of Chaos and the Swirling Force’. As the stories tell it, Kotodama was a spindly-armed braggart that had never himself worked a honest day, but who derived his power from a magical grimoire the size of a giant that held all manner of spells and incantations. One fateful day, the prick boasted about with his grimoire, until his stick-arms could carry it no longer, and he dropped the grimoire from beyond the sky.

    The grimoire shattered, and rained down its magical contents upon our world, in the form of thunder and lightning and fire and cliches-of-that-nature. By the time the storm was over, the world was barren and toxic, a poison waste. Those that remained were changed forever. Our ancestors found that choice words from Kotodama’s grimoire were inscribed into their skin, a single word or phrase for each person; those that were able to tap into these unreadable words found that they blessed them with some esoteric power.

    Yet for all their newfound power, they could no longer remain above-ground. Many years, and hundreds of thousands of lives were thusly sacrificed to create the underground kingdom of Inferia, where we live (happily, I am rather forcibly told) to this day.

    We carry Kotodama’s mark, the words of his grimoire etched unto our skin, passed on from generation to generation.
    [tab=Prompt]
 
[ magic overview: magic will play a heavy role in the story, and it is perhaps likely that your character will indulge in the craft. The following is fairly long; it's better to use the following as more of a reference document than something to commit to memory. nerds. ]​

  • From birth, you were born with a series of characters, in some unspoken language, etched somewhere upon your body - a word or a phrase. Kotodama’s Mark.

    Theorized to be part of an eons-old language, no being alive understands it in its entirety, although some claim to be able to decipher choice keywords, citing the language as a complex pictography. By and large, those who make such claims are typically regarded as frauds and hacks. In any case, although it is a rare few who know the exact meaning of their own mark, most have some vague, intuitive idea, as each individual typically experiences ideations and visions related to their ‘word’ at points in their life.

    In short, Kotodama’s Mark represents a lingering, dormant potential for magic. Those who are able to tap into the Mark are capable of unique, esoteric abilities that correspond to their word/phrase, and are typically referred to as ‘Spines’ or ‘Binders’. A few key-points:

    • The Marks can mean simple object-nouns, such as fire, sword or ball, or abstract concepts, perhaps phrases and lines in old poetry. They can also represent people or lore-figures in the past (which you may come up with, at my discretion). It’s as expansive as language typically is.

    • In the majority of cases, directly-related (parent-child) individuals exhibit the same Mark, and therefore also demonstrate similar abilities (such is also common in less directly-related blood ties). On the other hand, there have also been a significant number of relatives that exhibit different Marks and wholly deviated abilities. On the other other hand, there have been individuals with no blood-tie that have also exhibited the same Mark.

    • The Mark has been known to fade in and out of visibility, at times, for no conclusive reason. While there’s no empirical evidence to the fact, Spines often note that their abilities are diminished when the Mark fades. Conversely, the appearance of the Mark sometimes intensifies, with Spines attesting to the opposite effect on their prowess.

    • The most commonly held theory, with numerous anecdotal support, is that Marks fade or intensify based on the degree of correspondence between a Spine’s intent/resolve/actions and the nature of their Mark. Example: a Spine with a fire-related Mark has recalled his Mark intensifying in the midst of chaos, while a Spine with a darkness-related Mark has felt their Mark fading when in the presence of numerous others.

    • There have been cases where Spines have undergone amputations leading to the removal of their Mark. It has been observed that they appear to lose their abilities for a time (as short as a week, as long as a year), before the Mark eventually resurfaces on another part of their personage.

    • Without currently putting too much of a fine light over the specific details and implications, Marks can represent anachronisms (for reference, Inferia is largely representative of medieval/ancient-era). Vehicles, electronics, etc.
  • Again, the Mark imbues its holder with potential for power. While everyone you know carries the Mark somewhere upon their person, not everyone of them is a Spine, capable of harnessing their ‘gift’.

    • The unlocking of magical ability seems to be linked to the various ideations and visions caused by the Mark. The ideations/visions can occur throughout all stages of life, although seem to be most prevalent during developmental age through young adulthood (5 through 21, roughly). For this reason, it is easiest to develop magics in this age range; past that, and it is nigh impossible to reach one’s full potential.

    • As stated before, ideations/visions are intrinsically linked to the meaning of the Mark itself (the mark ‘Fire’, for example, would bring about visions of infernos and burning waste, although that is a particularly simplistic and non-abstract example). For many, these are as if passing dreams, the specific details forgotten in the moments following. However, through force of will and resolve, it is possible to achieve a state of ‘awareness’ during these idle visions - over time, this leads to a greater understanding, and an attuning to one’s Mark, the crucial first step of learning magics.

      When one reaches the stage of becoming fully and consistently cognizant while in the midst of their visions, they are ‘awakened’. The magical energy of the ‘Mark’ will begin to flow across their body in the form of a shimmering glow, and the aspiring Spine will be able to perceive it like a second sense, utilize it as if a new set of muscles and use it in the casting of spells.

    • Force of will and resolve alone are perhaps not enough to reach the awareness necessary. Conversely, sometimes it may not be required at all.There are those so naturally gifted that they will be able to tap into their Mark without deciphering even the slightest bit of their ideations.

    • On the other hand, those who find the process overly difficult are able to employ the assistance of skilled Spines to ‘guide’ them. By channeling their own magical energy unto an unawakened being, the guide is able to forcibly rouse their charge into a state of awareness during their visions, over time reaching the same end result as the unassisted method. For Inferian citizens with resources to spare and/or friendly connections to Spines, this is the most common method, as it requires no particular talent on the side of the awaken-ee.

    • Once awakened, the individual may begin developing their abilities in accordance to the meaning of their Mark, and their own personal tastes. At the very beginning, before one’s individuality takes shape, magic is exhibited in aimless, formless bursts of concussive force.
  • Once awakened, the Spine is capable of utilizing ‘spells’, the abilities that are a product of their Mark. These are esoteric abilities with varying utilities, be it combat or just everyday living. There is no limit to the amount of ‘spells’ one can learn, although it is a time-consuming endeavor. Spines learn spells through a process known as ‘attuning’.

    • The rudimentary method of 'attuning': Spells are developed by forcing oneself into a state where ideations and visions of their Mark occur, and then visualizing the intended process and effect of the spell occurring. With enough repetition (the more powerful the spell, the more time needed to craft), the Spine will be able to replicate the effect in actuality. At more advanced levels, Spines are able to attune on the fly through intense visualization in the heat of combat. This is considered the highest talent a combat-oriented Spine can have, and few are ever able to impromptu attune even once in their lifetimes.

    • The core fundamental rule is that spells are necessarily linked in some way to the Mark. If one’s Mark is ‘Fire’, they will be able to develop and perform spells that have to do with concepts such as ‘burning something’, or ‘making something hotter’ - they may also be able to explore spells that have more to do with the abstract concepts associated with fire, perhaps instigating a target’s rage, or inspiring them to action.

    • Casting spells consumes energy from the Spine’s reserves of magical strength, which can be replenished through food, drink and rest. Indeed, spells can largely be classed as the transformation or transference of this energy.

    • Spells can be used without any particular incantation or material component - in this regard, they are similar to, say, a comic hero superpower. However, it is understood that extensive incantations or the usage of ingredients enhance the effectiveness of spells. The potential power of a spell is said to be a product of: time spent casting (similarly, length of incantation), natural talent of the Spine, energy consumed, quantity of material components, prior expertise with the spell and imposed conditions/restrictions.

    • Conditions/Restrictions: when a spell is crafted, it can be strengthened through applying conditions and restrictions, in the form of a pact. Example: “I can’t eat or drink for seven days after performing this spell,” or “I can never use magic again after performing this spell” or "I can only perform this spell in an closed room with exactly seven people." The more severe the condition, the more strength is lent to the spell.

    Otherwise, the potential for spells are near-limitless, and even Spines who bear the same Mark seldom utilize the same spells, as individuality is a chief component of magic. Two Spines who both bear the Mark ‘Fire’ could differ heavily; one might craft a spell that is simply creating a giant inferno, while another might take a stylistic approach, conjuring and manipulating beautiful serpentine constructs of flame.

    As limitless as the possibilities are, experts often attempt to classify spells, and have arrived at a rough grouping of spell categories, detailed in the next tab.
  • [It should be noted that spells are complicated affairs, not easily tied down and categorized. Some spells may fit into multiple categories (likely, given how vague the categories are), some may in fact fit into none. The chief OOC influences here are the magic categories from standard Dungeons and Dragons.

    A few rules of thumb will be noted here - expert Spines will be typically aware of these ‘rules’, but also aware that they are not hard and fast, more akin to guidelines.]

    Evocation: Evocation spells consists of magical energies being forcibly propelled at range. As the magical energy is expelled, it takes on unique properties before reaching its target.
    • Elemental spells (gouts of fire, lightning, ice, etc) typically fall under this category.

    • With that said, Evocation spells do not need to exactly replicate naturally occurring elements. It is possible, for example, for a spell to generate flames that are as cold as ice. They can also take on properties of an entirely bizarre, natural-law defying imagined phenomena.

    • Spells of a more insidious nature (‘curses’, essentially) generally also fall into this category. Their insidious nature is typically a product of magical energy taking on properties of invisibility as they are expelled unto the target.

    • The creation of Illusions, as well, are considered part of Evocation, giving magical energies the form of phantom sounds and imagery as they are released.

    • Generally speaking, as magical energy leaves the body, it becomes weaker the further it leaves the Spine’s influence (the Evocation Principle). For this reason, many Evocation spells are ‘channeled’ and maintained (a perpetual beam stemming from the Spine’s body and held through some focus point, as opposed to an errant volley of projectiles), so that magical energy can be constantly fed into the spell. This has its own downsides (immobility, concentration).

    • Evocation spells are most commonly cast through hand-motions; in a sense, hand-motions (or any similar somatic component) are a ‘restriction’ of sorts that help strengthen the spell.

    Conjuration: Conjuration spells transform magical energy into a set of materials, items, constructs or even living creatures.
    • Generally speaking, magical energy is constantly fed in order to maintain a conjured item or creature’s existence. Complexity and size are the two main factors in determining extent of energy expenditure.

    • As is typically the case with magic, the conjured subject need not have a corresponding natural/existing counterpart.

    • Conjurers are typically vaguely aware of where their creations are at any given moment, although their range of control seldom extends past their line of vision. It is also par for the course for conjurers to be able to perceive from the pov and senses of their creations.

    • It is theoretically possible to conjure a living being of full sentience and autonomy.

    Transmutation: Transmutation spells alter the property or condition of some creature or thing (sprouting wings, turning skin into stone, turning water into wine, purifying water). Has boatloads of overlap with Evocation.
    • As before, bestowed/inflicted properties and conditions need not have naturally-occurring counterparts.

    • It is considered impossible for a spell, without a severe attached condition, to cause permanent transmutation of the living. In most cases, time duration of a transmutation directly corresponds to the amount of magical energy used for the spell.

    • Save for the most advanced practitioners, transmutation spells must typically be initiated through touch (or casted upon oneself). This is because of the Evocation principle, where magical energy diminishes upon leaving the body, rendering ranged transmutation spells typically either ineffectual or short-lived.

    • Building off of the Evocation principle, however, it is also possible to ‘channel’ transmutation spells unto ones target, allowing the transmutation to persist while the spell is actively maintained.

    • The ability to manipulate or control the mind of a target is also considered Transmutation. Spells that allow for mental control are unique in that they always require an attached condition; the condition or set of conditions that allow one to gain control of their target (for example; sticking one’s finger up the target’s left nostril). The more specific and difficult the condition, the more powerful the control.
 
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[ overview of the kingdom of Inferia ; this will be periodically updated the more events in Inferia unfold. do make sure to contact me if you feel like I haven't covered something fundamental. ]​

  • Some hundreds of years ago your forefathers, with all their magicks and the hardened skin upon their calloused fingers, dug deep into the earth to create the Kingdom of Inferia. Four cavernous masses hollowed out beneath the dirt, one atop the other, each fit to hold a city. At its most populous, fifty-thousand beings of various races filled the four tiers of Inferia. Currently, only three tiers remain, inhabited by around fifteen-thousand citizens; about half comprise the lowest class, while only around three-hundred-or-so are counted amongst the elite. Power resides in the hands of these select few, who conspire and petition to a single ruler regarding matters of the Kingdom.

    A spire of glass pierces through the center of the Kingdom, its base embedded upon the waters of the Soup Bowl, and leading out into the toxic world above. This is The Elevator, which connects each tier of Inferia. A massive glass platform is compelled by magic to move according to its passengers whims, being able to transport entire caravans of goods, or squadrons of the Inferian Guard. The light of the sun from above the surface shines down through the glassy spire, shining a dim white upon the lower levels - the colorless sun, and the only method of telling the passage of time.

    The Kingdom’s own natural resources are few and far between, and thus essentials are mostly provided by the Merchant Dragon, Balliol, the only being known to be able to survive the poisonous world above. A truly powerful and resourceful creature, he is able to provide for thousands of Inferia’s citizens, although his offerings are not without cost. Still, to this day the Kingdom persists, though unrest perpetually stirs amongst the lower tiers.
  • The lowest cavern of Inferia presents itself before you in all its humming ambience. Those fortunate enough to have never visited ‘rock bottom’ are invariably stricken by a sensory overload. It begins with the perpetual glow of subterranean blue and the glowing, surreal white of phosphorescent fungi that line the walls, which reflect doubly against the water - in its natural, unmolested state, it would’ve been beautiful.

    Alas, the stench of population density and Inferian’s lowlies pervade. The Soup Bowl is the third and lowest tier of the Kingdom, and the most heavily populated, reserved for the lower class. Spatially, it is the largest of the four tiers, although density still poses a major problem; this is because much of the Soup Bowl - true to its name - is water, cutting through and intersecting much of the landed surfaces. These waters are a serene blue turned mucky green by… well, let’s agree to simply call it: “The Waste Problem” - and, nasally, it is a problem. The citizens build second-rate households and stalls on whatever patches of land are available to them or - in strokes of poverty-induced genius - construct boardwalks and ships, allowing them to turn the water into real-estate.

    Still, crowded and poor though the Soup Bowl might be, at least it’s not boring. The lowlies hustle and bustle, peddling what meager wares they can scrounge up; mostly errant bats and fungi picked from the walls (both staple foods of the Soup Bowl). A Gondola-service exists, rickety ships willing to traverse the waters from town to town. The underground crime scene is alive and well, mostly dealing in wares stolen from those above, and the Soup Bowl’s greatest export: swill-fish.

    The waters are filled with the fish-of-the-swill, creatures of a certain grand wish fulfillment; they are, put simply, fish that release a burgeoning load of alcohol when gutted. Every fish that swims amongst the Soup Bowl is a swill-fish, though they vary wildly in terms of size and color. While the average, middling, plain-looking fish can be counted on to produce piss-water good for a night out, the more colorful and larger of the bunch are bloated with sweet-wines and liquors. Granted, swill-fish of the latter variety seem to be more protective of their innards, and even aggressive; it is not uncommon for a swill-fish to dive out of the waters and snatch an unsuspecting citizen off the boardwalk for a quick-meal.

    In times past, it was common to see citizens lined up, angling for swill-fish. Nowadays, the Inferian Guard outlaws the act. The Soup Bowl Division of the Guard can be seen on their vessels, everyday without fail, netting the swill-fish en masse, and delivering them to the tiers above.
  • The unspoken grounds, The Forgotten In-Between is the product of seismic shifts and shoddy architecture. It was originally the third tier, before the surface of the tier above began to sink downwards. Now, it is an abandoned zone, a city of mud-buildings squashed to half-height and inhabitability by the ceiling above. It can still be accessed by the Elevator, although entering is strictly forbidden, and who would bother? It is an orange-brown place of desolation, with specks of dust trapped in the air, and the lingering sense of claustrophobia; one could almost imagine the ceiling still sloping ever so slightly.

    Those that subsist in the In-Between are both of an unsavory lot, and resourceful enough to make their ways there. Certain criminal elements prefer to spend their time here, away from both the prying eye of the Inferian Guard, and the sweltering stink of the Soup Bowl.
  • The immaculately paved streets of Inferia’s second tier are illuminated by the orange glow of floating lanterns, and the sweet scent of spice. Its buildings, built from carefully sculpted and magically-protected clay brick, are arranged in circular, almost labyrinthine patterns, leaving ample roadways and intersections throughout. This is the ‘Ringed City’, where the middle-class (for cynics: those with skillsets exploitable by the one-percenters) reside.

    The circular labyrinth is a construct of careful planning and organization. Firstly, the skillsets of Ringed City citizens are carefully tracked through periodic census. Invariably, core functionalities such as doctors are placed in the inner ring closest to the Elevator, for the convenience of the first-tier. Merchants are typically situated near the middle rings, while Spines - particularly those noted for their prowess or capacity for violence - are located near the outermost rings.

    Secondly, due to land-constraints, all families are allowed but a single building, to serve as both residence and place of business. Aspiring entrepreneurs who wish to leave the nest, as well as soon-to-be-married couples wishing to start their own family and livelihoods are required to apply at the ‘Office of Spatial Concerns’. This is a lengthy and arduous process that usually takes years, unless some unfortunate family just happens to all bite the bullet unexpectedly. For that reason, ‘official’ marriage seldom happens in the Ringed City, and sons and daughters are typically happy to simply continue the family business.

    Otherwise, the Ringed City is about as good as it gets for most Inferians. A fair share of Balliol the Mercantile Dragon’s offerings are disseminated about the city; produce and livestock are readily prepared by chefs and restaurateurs; fabrics, dyes and even full articles of clothing plucked from the remains of the surface-world garb the eclectic middle-class. Crime, at least on the surface, appears to be minimal, and the Inferian Guard here seem to mostly deal with petty crimes and the occasional rabble-rouser.
  • Those lucky few graced with the opportunity to visit the first tier are sworn to silence, on threat of death. Still, rumors abound. It is said that upon exiting the Elevator, one can see the cavern walls painted white in a shell of ivory, matching the Palace that seems to encompass the entire level. Its people are garbed in immaculate suit and dress, leisurely indulging in the finest of Balliol’s offerings.

    Those who inhabit the first tier have claimed their thrones through bloodright and nepotism; ages ago, their ancestors were the foremost of the civilization that created Inferia. Every now and then, rare individuals who manage to convey their talent and worth are allowed into the fold; personal chefs, perhaps, or skilled Spires employed to protect from the more violent side of political intrigue.

    Twelve families vy for dominion over the rest, and ultimate authority in certain matters of state; the distribution of Balliol’s goods, for instance, or control of the Inferian Guard. Every generation, the heirs of each family engage in the ‘Measuring’. Simply put, it is a contest of sorts to determine the future leader, with no particular rules save for one; the victor is decided when all others concede.
  • It’s occurred to me that it’s entirely possible that my write-ups don’t manage to touch upon some vital details, or that those vital details could possibly be obscured by #words. I’ll spit-ball some out in list form, just to cover all my bases. Feel free to contact me if you feel like I should be adding something in here.

    Politics: A single ruler, chosen by a succession contest (‘The Measuring’) comprising the heirs of the twelve most powerful families. The current ruler is Merigold Morbid Bulbous of the Bulbous family, an unfathomably fat man who lives for little more than the feast.

    Population: 15,000~. (Class Distribution between lowest/middle/elite: 60/39/1, roughly).

    Heraldry: The main insignia of Inferia is the image of two hands, clad in bronze-gauntlets, digging into the dirt.

    Currency/Economy: Balliol’s ability to seemingly conjure up resources out of thin air - effectively giving the middle/elite class of Inferia ‘hand-outs’ - dramatically wonks Inferia’s ‘economy’. Businesses seem to largely operate as a matter of attaining social standing and respect, and currying favor from the elite. The elite hand out merit-tokens to business-owners for extended, obedient or exemplary service - these tokens are typically used as currency. The Soup Bowl class receive little in the way of currency, being forced to barter goods/services.

    Climate: Typically cool.

    Fashion and Dress: The Soup Bowl class typically don little more than rags, unless they’ve managed to steal something. Otherwise, fashion is eclectic; while the typical fashion-du-jours is ‘European-medieval’, there are examples of other cultural influences and even out-right anachronisms.

    Technology: The layman has a good understanding of pulley systems, the wheel and the like, although physical science knowledge is rudimentary at best - some more experimentive types, particularly Spines in regards to fields with tangential relevance to their Mark, demonstrate knowledge far ahead of their time. In short: medieval-era.

    Religion: Varied, generally based on race. Kotodama is the most well-known of the old deities, while others have faded into irrelevance with the passing of time. Many individuals attest to having visions of certain deity-like figures as a result of their Mark, and thus there are many deities with minor (but rather passionate) followings. [Feel free to make them up.]

    Death and Burial: The disposable dead are often stowed away in the In-Between, collected by the Dead Department of the Inferian Guard. Taking care of the dead is of utmost importance, due to the risk of disease, and measures such as magical preservation and purification are standard procedure. The dead are sent up the Elevator when Balliol calls with his offerings; presumably he disposes of them. Disposing of one’s dead through other means is strictly illegal, although not unheard of.

    Language: In Dungeons and Dragons terms, ‘Common’ - a basic, generic unified language that is essentially represented as ‘English’. Non-human races can have their own distinct languages.

    Education: Schools exist, typically teaching things such as counting and language. Academies also exist for aspiring Spines.

    Expansion: The idea of expanding the Kingdom (by, rather simplistically put, digging outwards) is often proposed - it has died down in recent decades, as the population of Inferia steadily declines.



[ some notable figures ]​

  • You are told that one creature alone holds dominion over the remains of the surface-world, Balliol the Mottled-Scale, Balliol the Merchant, and supposedly the last of the great dragons, who survived through the sheer power of his greed. Greed, perhaps, is good after all. He is said to be unfathomably large, his form layered over with pock-marked scales of grey. Curiously, he dresses himself with some black vestment, and he views the world from a large circle of glass over his right eye. His voice is a low rumble like thunder that sounds throughout the Kingdom when he marks his arrival.

    The Mercantile Dragon, more than any other being living, is responsible for Inferia’s continued survival. His connection dates back to the forefathers who dug the Kingdom, who struck the first deal with him that continues to this day. Balliol loathes hoarding, and understands that nothing carries value without trade. To that end, he gathers and conjures resources from the lost civilizations of the surface world, and offers them to the Kingdom. Something is given in exchange, although few are in the know as to what exactly that is. Still, who can complain? He provides food, drink, clothing and medicine enough for thousands.

    Interestingly, Balliol despises alcohol and like substances, and refuses to furbish them, thus rendering swill-fish one of Inferia’s only true commodities.
  • The elite-class has always understood that being dramatically outnumbered bodes ill for personal safety. To that end, the Inferian Guard was established when the Kingdom was born; nominally, they keep the peace, and quell unrest, certain divisions are also responsible for civil services. They are, however, primarily a tool for the first-tier citizens to maintain power, typically acting according to their ordinances and mandates.

    Both the Soup Bowl and the Ringed City alike are willing to recruit into the Inferian Guard, with two primary criterion; adequate physical conditioning or, failing that, some degree of potential or skill as a Spire, both typically proven through a brief informal testing. It is beneficial that the strongest of the Soup Bowl class are indoctrinated into the guard - the rest of the Guard are typically filled by the middle-class, or scions of the upper-class in positions of leadership.

    The following are certain divisions of the Inferian Guard. While certain divisions dress remarkably different, the typical rank and file dresses in jerkins and armor of red and white, with the Inferian insignia displayed somewhere on their personage.


    The Soup-Bowl Division: the largest of the divisions, with three particular mandates: 1) guard the entrance of the Elevator, 2) quell civil unrest amongst the lowlies and 3) consolidate the trade and procurement of swill-fish. They are typically seen patrolling the waters of the Soup-Bowl, sailing in vessels bearing the Inferian insignia. They are commanded by a man who (like a prick) self-identifies as The Superintendent; he is known to be a bombastic and self-absorbed man, a blood-knight who thrives off unrest and riots.

    The Dead Division: specialized members of the Inferian Guard who primarily focus on retrieving the dead, sometimes forcefully prying them from the arms of grieving loved ones. Squads of ‘Deaders’ invariably contain a Spine, as their magic is used to sterilize and cleanse the corpses. Their uniforms appear to be shrouds of black that obscure much of the face; the designer was a bit of a germaphobe.

    The Elite Division: the most skilled warriors and Spines of the Inferian Guard are allowed into the paradise of the first-tier, to pledge their service in protecting the upper-class from those below, and also themselves. It is commonly said that the Elite Division is prone to complacency and falling into rust, as they only seem to see action during times of crisis or during the political machinations of the ‘Measuring’.

    Among others; The Burrow (a crew of talented investigators and people-finders), The Matrimony Department (who, perhaps untrue to their name, really focus on delivering punitive measures unto unauthorized marriages), etc.
 
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