Union of Shadows: Children of the Dark Gods (CS and OOC)

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  1. And here's the Introduction again!

    The Gods

    In the beginning, Nara, the Spirit of the Void, was alone. Centuries passed, then centuries turned to eons, and eons turned to time without end in an emptiness that existed without time. Then, for a reason even the one who watched the universe begin couldn't begin to understand, a light burst into being, and she was no longer alone.

    Naru, spirit of the First Light, brought the rest of the universe into being with him, existence burning it's way across the void in a never-ending instant, and Nara, rather than being outraged by this sudden explosion of matter into her domain, was curious. She watched him as he worked to spread his light across the nothingness, pausing occasionally to inquire about his work, and the way he went about it. At first Naru was a bit standoffish, instinctively recoiling from what he perceived to be his opposite. But then, over the passing millenia, the pair grew more accustomed to one another, and frequently met at the center of the universe to discuss the exciting goings on around them.

    In time, one of the worlds that had formed around the light that had given Naru form, developed life, many forms of life that oddly, the pair of spirits began to treasure as they stopped in now and again to see how the creatures were fairing. When they began to walk and speak, however, importuning the heavens for some kind of help, some kind of guidance, the First Two were confused.

    The idea that this new life was weaker than them was uncomfortable, for surely they were responsible for it's creation, if only because it was an accident. Did that mean that they themselves were weak? Were they somehow unfit to create new life. The decision was made to try and create something new, to make new life that was more like them, yet also similar to the thinking creatures of the new world.

    So the new Gods were made, the First Two combining, then shaping fragments of themselves into new beings. These new beings, like their creators, were imperfect, though close to the ideals of the First Two. Half of them were too similar to the Progenitors, standoffish and slightly unsure as to what it was these new creatures needed. The other half were a bit too close to the mortals, curious and ready to work their will on a universe they did not understand. Oddly, instead of finding polar opposites, the New Gods seemed to simply be odd reflections of each other. The former half, similar in being to Nara, called themselves the Shadows, whilst the latter named themselves the Light.

    The Light immediately went down into the world and began to try and improve upon what nature had wrought, raising mountains and widening seas to try and improve the lot of the not so environmentally fortunate Southern Continent. Unfortunately, their meddling sank two of the newly formed continents, leaving only the two upon which life had formed. The Shadows chastised their brethren, reaching out to show them how the work was done, and in so doing sank the majority of the Northern continent, leaving only a small fragment which began to slowly sink. Worried for the lives of the creatures on the fragment, the Progenitors quickly shouldered their children aside and reached out, forming bridges to connect the fragment to the Southern Continent. Oddly, the bridges kept the fragment afloat, and the pair became known by the mortals as Maera.


    Outside of the abilities and various mystic rituals gifted to to humanity by the Gods, magic is not useable by the various races of Maera. That is not to say that there are not individuals gifted with magic, just no mortal can wield it.

    Some rare individuals have made contact with Deep Spirits, unholy, primordial spirits that grew to exist in the more overgrown, isolated parts of Maera. Usually hermits, these people have, in their isolation, befriended these odd beings, the Deep Spirits more for the novelty of sentient companionship, the mortals because the Deep Spirits will lend them their admittedly limited mystical power. Some of these beings can start fires, some can move lighter objects, none come even close to approaching the level of power of a God.

    As a rule, Deep Spirits seem to be able to sense the Divine nature of a demigod and keep away from them. No Deep Spirit will befriend a God's Child.


    The continent of Maera is large, large enough for any number of peoples, or at least that was what the Gods hoped when it was shaped. The warm, nearly sub-tropical northern subcontinent arches up over the larger main continent, a stark counterpoint to lands that are at best tundra, and at worst perpetually frozen wastelands. A series of three land bridges connect the two, allowing travel between the two. To the east is the Godspine, an impassable range of mountains inhabited by the coldly indifferent dragons.

    Northern Maera, The Holy Compact

    The lush, bountiful land of the smaller northern subcontinent is home to humanity and the Holy Compact. An ancient coaltion of nations that formed partly in response from the threat of invasion from without, and partly from the Divine Will of the Gods themselves, the Holy Compact has guarded humanity from the depredations of the mainland for centuries. Over the years they have worked together, many of the smaller nations that had been part of the Holy Compact blended into the larger ones, their royalty so interbred with the other royals that one family can hardly be distinguished from the others. Most of society has been homogenized by the remaining nations, technology and styles spreading across the Compact as people sample, then adopt regional customs that appeal either to them or to the nobility they take their leads from.

    The nobility, in their turn, follow the lead of the Priesthood, though most of the “suggestions” they receive come from the various heads of the High Cathedral, the complex of temples at the top of Mount Ahwin.

    Southern Maera, The Lands in Shade

    According to legend, the harsh mainland of Maera was once as beautiful and fertile as the northern subcontinent. The humans hold tight to this belief, holding it up as proof that the entire continent should belong to them. Now, however, the the South is populated by the Darkling Races, dozens of separate races that have over the years formed just as many loose alliances to raid up into the north in search of food and warmer climates.

    To be fair, the Darklings themselves believe that they are destined to rule in the North, that the future of their various races may in fact hinge on the food they could grow in the North, as a recent population explosion is quickly depleting the game to be found in cold, dark forests of the South.

    Each of the races has their own system, their own set of traditions on who rules what and how. That hasn't stopped them from collaborating in the past though, nor will it keep them from doing so in the future. At the moment, though, there is little likelyhood that the Darkling Races will be able to form a new band of raiders.

    Once, the Darkling Races were lead by the Union of Shadows, a small council made up of a leaders or appointed representatives from each of the Races of the South. The Union supervised all combined efforts in the South, from making war to attempting larger scale construction projects than say, building small villages for expansion. The Union even gave it's name to the collective armies of the South, making it easy for the humans to know who it was that was leading the assault on their civilization.

    Now the Union is shattered, the Darkling Races scattered to their respective corners of the Mainland as they try to rebuild their shattered strength after the utter defeat suffered at the hands of the Army of Light.

    World History

    Originally, the progenitors of the Light and Shadows, reluctant to see any of their creations dispossessed or destroyed, organized a system for the creation of demigods, lest one side grow too numerous and crush the other with an army of demigods. This was the First Treaty. All Deities were prohibited from touching the world directly outside of creating the allowed amount of children, and each side was allowed an equal amount of demigods, a child for each Deity. Not to say that any of the Gods were that big on following the rules, which is why a pair of militant organizations were created to regulate the births of any new demigods. The Black Brotherhood scourged the North for prohibited births and executed any second child born to the Light they could find. The White Legion scoured the South in similar fashion, destroying any second children born to the Shadows. No mortal was happy with this arrangement, but Holy Decree protected each group, provided no innocent blood was spilled without reason. And this was the undoing of the First Treaty.

    Surprisingly, it was the North that schemed it's way past the Treaty, probably because the Light tend to be a bit more forgiving than the Shadows when it comes to sinning against the Gods. Some decidedly unscrupulous Priests, no one is sure whose, decided to substitute an average mortal child, manufacturing the signs and portents required to mark the infant as a Child of the Light. The Black Brotherhood did it's duty and ended the child, thus providing an excuse for the members of the Holy Compact to begin an all out war against the regulatory body. Having been alerted to the situation, the various armies of the Compact were quick to find and crush the Black Brotherhood. Years passed as the Gods quarreled about the situation, years in which the Light was quick to birth it's army, even as the Union of Shadows was held at bay by the regular armies, though the fighting was fierce. The White Legion continued it's duties in the South, destroying any children they found, as the South was slow to attack, unsure of their Gods intentions while the arguments of the deities consumed most of their attention.

    Twenty-five years after the breaking of the First Treaty, the Army of the Light swept down in the Lands in Shade, a whole host of demigods quickly slaughtering the remainders of the armies protecting the Land in Shade and striking deep into enemy territory in a lightning campaign to end the war. Almost before the Dark Gods could take notice, the entire Army of the Light was in the Cavern, the underground temple complex of the Shadows, slaughtering various priests and toppling individual temples with ease.

    Nara, Dark Matron, Spirit of the Void before Existence, and Naru, the Holy Father, Spirit of the Spark of Creation, were horrified at what their children had wrought. Nara because of the injustice done to the children that took after her, The Shadows, and Naru because the Light had not taken steps to rectify the situation before it had gotten so far out of hand. As one, the two Progenitors reached out and collapsed the Cavern, sinking the mountain foot after foot into the ground until it was half as tall as it had been. The Army of Light was crushed. Across the world, demigods simply stopped living, falling to the ground as dead as if they had been murdered.

    The Progenitors forbade the creation of any more demigods, and forbade any other excursions into the South for a century, hoping that would be enough time for the various races to repopulate, as neither wanted to see the extinction of a sentient race. The penalty for breaking this order, they said, would be the destruction of the Gods in question, as well as the world they had all made. If they could not obey the rules, the need for the rules would be removed.

    And so the Gods went apart from the world, simply watching and occasionally offering advice, though even that became seldom, and then the Gods grew silent as they become involved in other pursuits. No one wanted to be the reason for the Death of the World. Eventually the Gods grew tired, and finally decided to sleep for a time, just to be on the safe side, millenia of creating children was tiring. Naru left to supervise the stars as they expanded ever outward, making sure thier light was cast evenly about in the darkness. Leaving Nara, the Void, watching the world.

    Nara had a plan, though. When they had touched Maera, she had also touched the rulers of the Holy Compact, planting in them the seeds for new demigods, though not of the Light. Somewhere down the line, new Children would be born to the Shadows, but they would need guidance, and so she herself seeded a ruler, ensuring that her Child would be born first, then fashioned a bit of the void into living creatures, creating a handful of Void Wraiths to guide her future child to her destiny.

    1. No God-Modding. Yes, I know, it's everywhere. But it's needed.
    2. At least one five sentence paragraph per post. At least. More is of course preferred, but I understand that sometimes you don't have a lot to work with.
    3. Respect is a must, at least between roleplayers. If your characters can't stand one another, that's fine.
    4. At least make an attempt at decent grammar. I'm not asking for perfection, just a sincere attempt.
    5. Get involved in the world, please. Make suggestions, toss out ideas. A good world is always evolving. That doesn't mean make suggestions that will result in improving your character personally. Just if you have an interesting idea on how to improve the world as a whole, make it.
    6. Past tense, please. It makes my head explode when different posts don't agree.
    7. No need for crazy mature stuff, you can cuddle and make out, just nothing more, because this is the Fantasy section, not the Mature section. lol.
    8.Just for clarification, don't do things to someone else's character without consulting them.

    Character Sheet

    Now, before we get into the meat of the Character Sheet, I need to explain a little something about the Demigod characters, which I'm currently assuming is what we'll all be playing. In order to fully realize their Divine abilities, they will have to go through a ritual of some sort, which I refer to in the Character Sheet as Baptism. That does not mean they all have to be dunked in water, it just means that they have to complete some sort of ritual to be cleansed of their past lives and physical weaknesses in order to more effectively become agents of their Divine Parents.

    They wouldn't be very good Demigods if they were just average folks, so it makes sense for them to be a little stronger, or faster, or whatnot, but I think it would be nifty if they all had some Divine Gift that they either know about and actively conceal, or don't know about and accidentally hide from other people. Now, if you do take that sort of route, I'd like to see some sort of drawback, related or unrelated to the Gift. Am I saying you need a special gift? Nope, just that I'll have one.

    Name: (Self explanatory)

    Gender: (Boy? Girl? Who knows? You do!)

    Age: (How old is your character?)

    Height: (How tall is your character?)

    Weight: (Is your character a fatty?)

    Miscellaneous Physical Description: (Anything not covered in the rest of the physical description. Hair, eye color, build, scars, clothing, etc.)

    Post-Baptism Physical Description: (A description of any changes your character will experience after the Baptism, any new birthmarks or fantastic deformities the parent will confer upon their child, perhaps improved musculature?)

    God: (If your character is a Child of a Dark God, which one? And yes, making one up in incredibly encouraged. If you don't, and I have to make one for you, it'll be incredibly lame. Like the Dark God of Earwax or something. Feel free to expand upon your God. Are they the patron of a particular Darkling Race? Do they have preferred clothing for their priests? Keep in mind that the Gods are not awake. They are still sleeping. Don't forget to include their Light opposite.)

    Divine Gift:(Any specific abilities your character has been given by his/her divine parent. Keep in mind that if you do take a skill for your character, there needs to be some kind of drawback to be expunged later on during the Baptism. Please also add how your Gift will be improved or changed by Baptism.)

    Personality: (Is your character a jerk? Let us know!)

    Likes: (Do they like anything? I dunno.)

    Dislikes:(What don't they like? Anything?)

    Equipment: (Any specialized equipment your character may be carrying. Certain types of swords, a pet rodent, maybe some kind of toolkit...)

    History: (Your character's story thus far...)
  2. And, now that's all up, here's the Character Sheets for both my character and the NPC Demigod Collector that will travel about doing what it is that Demigod Collectors do. That is, collect demigods. But first, my guy.

    Marric Royeaux (open)
    Name: Marric Royeaux

    Gender: Male

    Age: 17


    Weight: 117 lbs.

    Miscellaneous Physical Description: Marric has been bald since a somewhat disastrous ceremony used by the Royal Family following the birth of every child. His eyes are a dark brown, leading some to assume that he takes after his mother, dead some seven years following the birth of his third brother. His frail, undernourished-looking body is covered by pale, almost translucent skin. Since he is rarely allowed to leave his apartments in a manor on the Royeauxs' family estates, the young man is most often dressed in a long linen nightgown and robe. When he walks, it's in warm woolen indoor shoes fastened with buckles. On the rare occasions in which he leaves, he is dressed in a white ankle-length bliaud, a sort of overlong tunic, and a dark purple knee-length surcoat, the whole affair secured by a leather belt around his waist. His indoor shoes slip into leather outdoor shoes, and a wide brimmed purple hat is added to hide thin, pale face.

    His smooth, uncallused hands are an identifier of someone who has never done a day of work in his life, though his weakness and unhealthy pallor lead most to assume that he is deathly ill. One of many reasons he is usually kept hidden away in his apartments.

    Post-Baptism Physical Description: After his Baptism, Marric's weakness will be removed, actually adding a few inches to his height, as well as an immensely improved musculature. His hands will cease to appear human, from his elbows down thickening and hardening until they look to be made of living onyx, although flecked through and through with lines of red so bright they seem to glow against the dark. The strange material will be stronger than steel, though steel forged in the White Flame will cut it as easily as flesh. It will also be nearly completely numb.

    God: Despite his sickly appearance, Marric is the Child of Orkkun, Dark God of Order and Master of the Black Flame. Orkkun is the Patron God of Ogres and the Forge, and is typically pictured working a forge utilizing the Black Flame. He approves of leaders who use strength and power to impose order through fear. Orruk's symbol is a hammer laid over an anvil, the hammer's inclined to the right.

    Orkkun is the Shadow of Irruk, who represents Order when encouraged by courageous example. Irruk is the Master of the White Flame, and like Orkkun, is often represented working a forge. Like all the Gods of The Light, Irruk is the Patron of Humanity. His symbol is also a hammer over an anvil, though his hammer is inclined to the left. Both Orkkun and Irruk are worshiped by smiths and others who work in metal.

    The Black Flame: The Black Flames can burn anywhere there is fuel, so long as a spark can be struck, the Black Flames will burn. And they do burn. Only Ogres can work the Black Flame, and their works are always misshapen-looking and black. Even Ogres dare not touch the Black Flame, though. If caught fire, any creature dies almost on contact, transformed instantly into a merrily burning blaze. The Black Flame does not corrupt, does not purify, does not heal, and does not wound outside of horrific burning death. It does, however, whisper. This is how Orkkun communicates to his followers when he is awake.

    The White Flame: The White Flame can only burn dried lumber from the Whitewood Tree, Irruk's chosen plant. It's smoke is a purifying agent, and can cleanse any ailment or disease. Only Craftsmen handpicked by the wisest Priests of Irruk are allowed to work with the White Flame. The products worked by these artisans are always pure white, regardless of the metals used. The White Flame is not hot to the touch, in fact anyone can touch the open flames and not be burned, although any wounds will close if held in the flame long enough provided the recipient of the healing is mortal.

    Divine Gift: Marric was born with the ability to appraise any worked metal and heft any hammer, though he has never been given the opportunity to find out about these abilities himself, and so remains unaware of their existence. The abilities come with a price, though. His weak body is the toll exacted by his dual nature, though the extremity of the condition is not natural.

    After his Baptism, Marric's abilities will blossom into the ability to forge metals into Black Steel, as well as a unique resistance to the Black Flame. His weakness will be burned away, replaced with the health that has escaped him for his life thus far. His other abilities will be unchanged. His resistance to the Black Flame and strengthened, numbed hands will allow him to work Black Steel to a quality unmatched by Ogre craftsman.

    Personality: Long years of isolation have left Marric a shy, retiring young man, more comfortable reading over some obscure text or terrorizing his many tutors with intense, sometimes disturbing questions on their various subjects. His tutor on the Ethics of Rulership in particular often despairs at changing the young man's thoughts on the best ways to enforce Laws in the realm. The debates between the two often rage for hours, and would continue longer if Marric didn't always grow too weak for further discussion.

    He has a deep inner intensity, somewhere buried deep beneath his physical weakness burns a reserve of strength he has yet to be given an opportunity to test.

    Likes: Being warm, a good argument with his tutors, meeting new people, hot foods, his rare constitutionals through the grounds surrounding the manor.

    Dislikes: The various methods the local priests of Irruk try to heal him of his "affliction", his weakness, tea, those who tell him that stronger penalties are not an effective way to enforce the laws. His healthier younger brothers.

    Equipment: Unfortunately, Marric's poor health and the living conditions resulting from it have left him with little opportunity to collect much in the way of specialized equipment. All he has are the clothes on his back and a can-do attitude that one often sees with the perpetually ill.

    History: Marric Royeaux was born to his Imperial Majesty, Henri Royeaux, Emperor of Myar, for all it's grand-sounding name a small kingdom in the east of the Northern Subcontinent, just next to the Godspine. The oldest of the three children from his father's first marriage, he was declared heir apparent the day after he was born, as was the tradition in Myar. Nursemaids talked, as nursemaids often do, of the happy, black-haired child with a sort of awed wonder. It was odd, after all, for a dark haired infant to be born to the Royal Family, all of whom had hair as fair as the sun. Still, many children had hair that fell out and grew back in another color, and so it was assumed that the boy would be the same.

    By Royal tradition, the child was to be purified by passing him through the White Flame, a process that was generally assumed to promote a healthy life and begin a lifelong connection to the Light. Two weeks after his birth, the ritual was held, with all the pomp and ceremony the Empire could muster for the first religious obligation of the newborn heir to the throne. Much to everyone's surprise and initial delight, the infant passed quietly through the flame, not even uttering a single wail as his black hair was singed away, his skin growing paler at the flame's touch. It was odd, since the White Flame was not supposed to harm a person. No one was sure what it meant that his hair had been burned away, since no one had ever experienced such a reaction before. The priests, after scrambling for an explanation, finally decided that the Gods, Irruk in particular, had been so pleased with the infant that he had touched the child. This was of course a falsehood, but without any alternative reason for the strange event, the falsehood was accepted for truth.

    As he aged and grew, it grew more apparent that the child was not as blessed as had been hoped. He was a sickly boy, often too weak to leave his bed for more than a few hours. The royal physicians did their best, but most did not give the child more than a few years more to live. His first brother had been born by this time, so the line was secure even if he did die. But he didn't. He struggled on, impressing the few physicians and his tutors with his tenacity. All throughout his convalescence, his Father and Mother had visited him regularly, but one day, Marric realized that only his Father was visiting him, that he hadn't seen his mother for weeks. He asked about her absence, but only received shakes of the head and guilty refusals to meet his eyes. To a ten year old, the loss of a parent is a great blow, to one so sickly, it was nearly a death blow. The boy retreated to his bed, to the world inside his books, refusing all visitors. It was a blessing of sorts, freeing his father of the guilty duty of visiting the son that would not die and allowing him to spend more time with the healthier two.

    Marric was moved to the family estates, turning his self-imposed isolation to unofficial exile. Despite his long sickness, the story had been spread that he was in good health, that he was being trained in secrecy to take the throne so that no assassin could kill the Light-Blessed Crown Prince. It was not uncommon, in the past children had been assassinated by humans paid sometimes by enemies of the family, sometimes by enemies of the Light. Marric's profile even found it's way onto the coinage, opposite his Father's.

    And so the years passed, Marric growing older, but remaining thin and sickly as he passed into adulthood. There began to be whispers amongst those few in the know that perhaps the time had come for the Heir Apparent to finally die, regardless of whether he was ready, to make way for a healthier son to rule. To his credit, Henri Royeaux refused to allow such talk in his presence. Lately though, the talk has spread into the ranks of the clergy, which, unfortunately, falls outside of the purview of royalty.

    And now the Character Sheet of our NPC. Now, her's does not follow the Character Sheet I've made up, mostly because she's already gone through her Baptism and become a fully realized demigod.

    Terith Dane (open)
    Name: Terith Dane

    Age: 28

    Gender: Female

    Appearance: Standing at around 5'7" and a slight 123 pounds, Terith is of decidedly average height and weight, though, given her origins perhaps her height is a tad unusual. Her long black hair hangs down to her waist, clean, brushed, and shining darkly in whatever light she finds herself in. Her pale skin is rougher than that of the nobles she is forced to occasionally rub elbows with in the carrying out of her duties, her hands callused enough to know at a touch that she has had to do hard work in her life.

    Terith, when she's moving around the Holy Compact, prefers to dress in the hooded robes of the priesthood of the nearest Temple. She goes as far in her disguise as to offer the occasional blessing to local believers who ask it of her. So long as she is in the lands of the Compact, it is very rare for her to pull back the deeply cowled hood of her robes. That being said, her boots are always sturdy enough to last, and supple enough to run well in. Bandages cover her face behind the hood, holding a stylized mask of one of the Compact's many female war heroes in place.

    When in the Lands of Shade, she can cast her hood back and reveal the fact that she has no face. Oh, she has the outlines, and if you can stand to stare at it long enough, you can sort of make out her lips moving from within the void, but the price that Nara took during Terith's Baptism wasn't that important to the former peasant. Especially for what she was given. There's something of a pair of ovoids to suggest where her eyes might be, but instead of the usual fleshy orbs, there is simply...nothing, like looking into a pitch black room, or a deep shadow.

    Personality: There's a jaded quality to the Child of Nara, a sense that maybe she expected a little more from her position, that she had expected a little more exultation. Some part of Nara's personality remained with her after her Baptism, so there is a deep sense of commitment, if not love for the Children she seeks out. But other than that, she doesn't care for any human. She sheds no tears for the people she has to murder for seeing her face, or her void wraith guardians.

    Likes: Any black animal, "Her" children, any faithful priest of Nara, and oddly, apples.

    Dislikes: Priests of the Light, any of the Darklings who broke faith after the dissolution of the Union, most other humans, and above all, the nobility.

    Equipment: She tends to travel in a large covered wagon, carting around odds and ends for whatever merchant wants strange products moved. Also in her cart are three unmarked casks over a hidden compartment containing a fourth. Three of these casks contain fresh water, the fourth a strange, bubbling black liquid. Of course any of the wrong sort of people who see that stuff tend to die. She carries no weapons, that strange cask filled with the only weapons she needs, her beloved void wraith guardians.

    Void Wraith: A sentient bit of Nara's essence, a black, seething, hovering bit of nothing the size of an average man's torso that can form itself into what is needed in a given situation, just as long as the required mass doesn't exceed what it has on hand. It cannot breed, or multiply, and so there will be no more after the ones that exist are gone. They were created to guide and protect Nara's Child, and when she passes on, they shall return to the Spirit of the Void.

    History: Terith was born to a prostitute in the small town of Dane, the unwanted result of one of the many dalliences of the nobility. To be precise, though, her father was the Earl of Reif, a kingdom that had been subsumed by the Empire of Myar. No one ever made any secret about her origins, at least what they new of them, her mother was a busy woman, after all. As soon as she was old enough to leave her mother, she went, content to leave the aging woman to her alcoholism and her downward-spiralling life.

    She soon found work as a farmhand for a kindly elderly couple in a neighboring Duchy, who fed her and actually provided her with a small shed near the main house to live in. To a girl who had never had anything over own before, the shed was a palace. She grew to womanhood on that farm, though nothing good can ever really last.

    Eventually her mother's past came back to haunt her, a passing unit of soldiers on their way to some nameless battlefield pointing her out as they passed and remarking that she looked just like a certain woman in Reif. The rowdy catcalls as they passed were all the elderly folks needed to hear, and she was gently moved out of the shed and back out onto the streets. After all, everyone knows children take after their parents. Her happy introversion hadn't helped with them either, because they barely knew the strange girl who had been living in their shed for years.

    Fleeing the Duchy, Terith walked as far as she could before laying down under a half-fallen tree for shelter. She shivered in the night, despite the relatively warm temperatures, holding her arms tight to her as she dreamed of something better, of a life somewhere else where she would be accepted, celebrated even. She woke warm, hot even, and looked down to see that her body had been wrapped in what appeared to be a living shadow, though she had never seen a shadow that absorbed light that way.

    Once she had stopped screaming, the shadow unwound itself from around her, then proceeded to follow her around like a lost puppy. It was cute, in it's own way, at least it seemed that way to her, so she let it tag along until she fell asleep again. Again, she had strange dreams, nearly the same ones as the night previous. This continued on for weeks before Terith finally realized that the creature was speaking to her in her sleep.

    Over the years, the Wraith's dreams lead her to the Southern Mainland, where, oddly, she was left alone by the local Darklings. She wandered the Lands in Shadow for years before finally coming across the ruins of an ancient temple dedicated to Nara, one from before the New Gods were worshipped. With the help of her faithful guardian, she finally made her way past ancient traps and collapsed passageways into the interior of the temple, and there, on a dais in the center of the temple, her guardian consumed her.

    She spent weeks in communion with Nara, the Spirit of the Void remaking her daughter so that she would be more able to find the other children and deliver them to their destinies. When the Void Wraith finally spat her back into reality, Terith Dane was a fully realized demigod, with the gifts of her Mother to help her on her way. Two more wraiths were hers to command, truly command instead of leading her about. She was stronger, faster than she had been. She could whisper into shadows and have others hear her words as long as there was another shadow near them. Most importantly, she could feel the other children, could feel them being born and taking their first steps in the world. As the Void Wraiths had guided her, she would guide these new demigods-to-be.
    #2 Khorudan, Mar 27, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 27, 2014
  3. looks very interesting. Do demi gods have magic given they aren't mortal?
    #3 Ruko, Mar 27, 2014
    Last edited: Mar 27, 2014
  4. Demigods don't have magic in the classical sense, which is to say they don't have spell books and mutter phrases in dead languages to affect the world around them. They do have gifts granted them by their Divine Parents, and, if they were to maybe be a member of the priesthood, I could even see them having access to the same mystic rituals used by other members of the priestly class as well. Even though the Gods are sleeping, they still grant their followers the occasional boon if asked nicely enough, like a parent telling a kid they can go watch TV or eat candy because they aren't really awake and want to go back to sleep.
  5. K then. Just wanted to ask tht before I write a load of character centralising on spellcasting.
  6. No worries. But, I guess it was a good idea to get clarification. lol.
  7. Descriptions, descriptions, descriptions. Looks super interesting but I know the CS will take me forever to make, so I will make one tomorrow.
  8. No worries, take your time. I have to work later than usual tomorrow, so I might not check until well after midnight.
  9. Oh! I'm going to make a CS for this, already have some ideas! :DDD
  10. Yes, yes, excellent, get in on this action! The more the merrier! Once we get a few CS lined up, we can get this party started.
  11. Oh I would like to join this too if that's ok, it looks great. I will have to make my CS tomorrow too as don't have time tonight.
  12. Sooo...how about them Character Sheets? Feel free to post them up here.
  13. I'm really trying, but there's so much stuff to include. I should have it up during the weekend. May I make my person be the child of the Dark God of the Dead?
  14. First come, first serve, so...sure. Just as long as you include a Light God of the Dead as well.
  15. *Nods* Will do.
  16. Is this currently open/has it started yet? When are you planning to begin?
  17. It is open and has not yet started. Just waiting for a few character sheets before we get started.
  18. Here's a little simple bio. Not up to my normal standards, but this was the best I could do with the information offered by the setting.

    Name: (Always the hardest part of the bio. *$)@#%) Nikolas.

    Gender: Male

    Age: 20

    Height: Five feet ten; reasonably tall, lanky almost.

    Weight: 135 pounds.

    Miscellaneous Physical Description: A quiet, muted head of black hair, unkept and running down to his shoulders; similarly black eyes. He's not exactly toned or even muscular, wears a simple set of clothing with a hooded cloak for the rain or wind. His right hand is smashed, completely unusable with fingers broken and wristbone destroyed.

    Post-Baptism Physical Description: A set of four massive overarching blade-like appendages, with a limb and a hinge, protruding from the back, blades almost as tall as he. Can be folded into his back. An elaborate black design graces his forehead, looking as if a raven with wings put astride.

    God: Nosferasu, the God-Death. Contrary to its name, Nosferasu is not much of a manager of death at all; in fact, it's a patron of assassins, and leaves the management of those who fall to his 'brothers.' Nosferasu does not believe in indiscriminate killing; Nosferasu is much of a believer in only slaying those that deserve to be slain; a scapel.

    His opposite, Paviles, the Purger, revels in mass massacres of what he considers neccessary. Or to be more specific, rather than to slay, Paviles enjoys wiping people's minds clean; of personality, memory, everything.

    Divine Gift: One of the many boons Nosferasu had granted him were the four blade-claws from his back; they are incredibly strong, moreso than any human appendage, and can be used for a variety of things, from walking, jumping, climbing, fighting, ecetra. Nosferasu also grants the ability of short-distance teleportation, ranging from five to ten meters, every ten to twenty minutes or so. Post-Baptism, he can do so every five minutes, and may see through walls to see those of the 'undeserving,' the Marked. In return, he may not kill any being unless it is a mercy killing, or if that other being is marked by Nosferasu; this is his only shield against the constant insanity that comes from using his abilities; but not killing at all would still result in constant degradation of his mind facilities. Unfortunately, or fortunately, as Nosferasu is sleeping, these beings are being marked automatically dependent on how much pain and suffering they have caused.

    Personality: Nikolas does not speak much. Perhaps it can be mistaken for solemn or thoughtful, but really, he just doesn't like talking. He's almost consistently depressed, especially so with the loss of his right hand. Contrary to his God, Nikolas is more of a pacifist than anything else; he just wants to quietly draw.

    But if these beings would so interrupt his simple pleasure, perhaps something could be arranged...

    Likes: Art, chocolate

    Dislikes: Annoyances, loud noises

    Equipment: A roll of papers, charcoal, a set of paintbrushes, various paints.

    History: Nikolas is quiet, and has but one love; art. He enjoyed his life, even away from the world, simply collecting herbs and food for his cave, painting and drawing. Civilization never really appealed to him, and perfecting his art is all that really mattered. Whence, a group of soldiers intruded upon his humble adobe, and accused him of black magic; dark arts, even. They beat him horribly, and worse yet than all the bruises and wounds were his mangled right hand, probably unusable ever again. He'd never be able to paint or draw again. The thought horrified him, and everything went upside-down, and the next moment, he was outside of his cave, in the quiet mountain with shouting in the distance. He ran. Just ran aimlessly through the woods.
  19. Wheee, finally, a profile! Thank you for making my day, creativename. One or two more, and we can get down to the business of talking about how characters will meet up. Although I am curious. Is your character from a particular area? Go right ahead make up a place. The Northern Subcontinent is generally Europe-shaped, with Myar on the middle easternmost end of that subcontinent.
  20. Name: Osatrophine (Oh-sah-trow-fyne) Arsena Mortem

    Gender: Lady

    Age: 18

    Height: 5'0"

    Weight: 99 lbs

    Miscellaneous Physical Description: Osatrophine possesses bangs that sprawl across her forehead to cover up the new birthmark, but they come down and frame around her heart shaped face in layers. Her long, light brown hair ends at the midst of her butt and sharpens to a point as it comes to an end. Her skin is a healthy pale and her eyes a hazel brown. She had taken her appearance from her mother, but Post Baptism she took the appearance of her father.

    Post-Baptism Physical Description: She received a new birthmark on her forehead. Her hair darkens to a shade of jet black, her skin becomes a grayish white color, much paler than before and her eyes will become a Crimson red color.

    Birthmark (open)

    God: Osatrophine is the eldest daughter to the Dark God of Death, Arsenic. He is the one who takes the spirits of those that await death (whether it be terminal illness, bleeding out, natural causes etc.) or have been murdered. He is the one who guides them to peace (or eternal torment if they have caused nothing but pain during their lives) in the afterlife or allows their spirit to aimlessly roam the world.

    God of Life: The God of Life; The God of Life's power assists in the healthy birth of children and assists in curing the ill. However, his power is very limited to mortals. It only works in a gradual manner and does not instantly cure the sick, only helps the immune system. If the illness, injury, or childbirth proves too lethal for the God of Life's limited power, then the God of Death takes over.

    Divine Gift: Her father possesses the ability to be able to teleport within the shadows, which she inherits Post-Baptism. This allows the wielder to teleport from one shadow to another without making a sound and is at its best in the evening. The drawback is that the shadows must be within eye sight and it has to be a darker shade rather than one of the lighter ones. By touching the forehead of the corpse, she will receive a premonition of how the person died. The drawback to that is that it comes in different moments instead of all at once. She can not guide others through the afterlife like her father, she does not possess his strength, and she will not know how to perform the shadow technique automatically; it is to come to her gradually.

    Can not teleport (open)

    Can teleport (open)

    Personality: Osatrophine speaks only in a half soothing half monotone type of voice and holds a passive look on her face most of the times. The emotions that she really does express are sadness, anger, and interest.

    Likes: Assisting others to find peace (meditation, calming them down, assisting them in finding comfort etc.), fruits, sweets, discovering new things

    Dislikes: Rudeness, nuisances, poisonous bugs or animals

    Equipment: A bag of herbs and a knife to aid her while she explores

    History: Osatrophine was born to her mother and her mother's husband who lived on the border of Southern Maera. Her parents were both middle class individuals that worshiped the Gods. She tends to wander off when something catches her attention, and will tend to spend the day learning about her surroundings. After she left her parents' home for a more suitable life, she found a small area that she could call her one. Away from the bad stuff yet close enough to the towns. All she does is gather food, water, and anything special to help her survive, all the while learning more and more about the wilderness.

    (Finally. Anything you want me to change I will do so.)
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