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Thread: Planeswalkers. Sign-Ups (a Magic the Gathering RPG)

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    Default Planeswalkers. Sign-Ups (a Magic the Gathering RPG)

    Planeswalkers
    A Magic: the Gathering RPG
    Rated PG-13 for violence, language, and mature situations

    Welcome to the Multiverse, home to all the planes and world in existence. Within the Multiverse exist a nearly-infinite number of planes...or perhaps they're infinite? No one really knows, a well-respected scholar once theorized that there are a finite number of planes, but there are more than can be counted in the combined lifetimes of every being in existence. We may never truly know which it is.

    The planes of the Multiverse are separated from each other by the space known as Blind Eternities which is filled with chaotic energies, including Ćther and mana. The inhabitants of most of these planes have no idea that theirs is not the only universe, or indeed the only world. Powerful beings, known as Planeswalkers, are the only ones who know of the different planes and are able to travel intentionally between them.

    You are a Planeswalker, an traveler and explorer of different worlds from any of the myriad planes of the Multiverse. Perhaps you are a vampire from the dark world of Innistrad; or you're a merfolk from Dominaria; maybe you're a human from Kamigawa; or you might be a minotaur from an as-yet unknown and unexplored plane. Regardless of where you originated, your story has already begun...now all that's left is to see where it takes you.

    Now...

    Something has begun to stir, moving throughout the Multiverse, manipulating events on a cosmic scale. Beings of great power and influence are assembling weapons, artifacts, and armies. Ancient forces are rising across dozens of planes. Even more disturbingly, Planeswalkers have gone missing. Disappearing from planes they frequent, leaving no discernible clue as to where they've gone, vanishing without a trace or message of warning. And there is a pull, a feeling, passing through the remaining Planeswalkers. The magic is gathering.

    It began on the plane of Kamigawa, where the balance and fragile peace between the plane's material and spirit worlds is kept by the Sisters of Flesh and Spirit. A simultaneous assault on both planes left the Sisters distracted, and a mysterious pair attacked them, stealing a piece of divinity from them. On Ravnica, a worldwide city-scape of a plane, the several of the ten Guilds were approached by various strange offers from even stranger beings. The Planeswalkers waging war on the corrupted plane of Mirrodin (now known as New Phyrexia) with the Mirran Resistance report a change in the movement of their mechanical Phyrexian enemies: it seems as if they're building something. Across the Multiverse, machinations are coming together, a mysterious force is emerging, and a plot is beginning to take shape.

    Intrigued by this strange turn of events and hoping to uncover more of the mystery, you planeswalk to the Nexus of the Multiverse, the plane known as Dominaria, where you find a strange gathering of several other Planeswalkers, all drawn by the same sense of urgency and happenings across the various planes. Gathered together and made aware of the scope, it has become strikingly clear that there is something at work: an event of Multiversal scope is coming together, and how it unfolds could have disastrous consequences.

    =====Information=====

    Planeswalkers:
    Planeswalkers are among the most powerful beings in the Multiverse, and can be born at random in any sentient race, with no outward signs of their latent power. However, there is a one in a million chance that any given sentient, natural being will be born with a Planeswalker's spark. When that being is put through a period of extreme stress—in many cases death—the spark can trigger, causing the individual to ascend and become a Planeswalker.

    The defining trait of Planeswalkers is the ability to travel between separate universes with ease, while the vast majority of people throughout the Multiverse are not even aware that other worlds beside their own exist.

    In the past, the Planeswalkers of old were nearly-omnipotent, immortal beings, but a cataclysmic shift in the Multiverse changed the nature of the Planeswalker spark. The new breed of Planeswalkers no longer display the near-omnipotence of their predecessors (and surviving old Planeswalkers do not possess the abilities they once had). While they are usually powerful mages, they are still physical beings that in general age normally, can be harmed, and need the same sustenance as other mortals. This is in stark contrast to the earlier Planeswalkers. Some of them have managed to suppress or avoid some of these limitation by magical means; however, these are specific to each Planeswalker.


    Planes:
    A plane is a self-contained world or universe of any size found within the Multiverse. While planes can be governed by any conceivable set of rules and natural laws, or even indeed inconceivable ones, most planes visited in the storyline are comfortably similar to Earth.

    Natural planes are naturally occurring worlds that just came into existence at some point. Most known planes just have one central, populated world, and the entire plane is typically named after it. However, it is possible that in vast universes with billions galaxies and stars, other populated worlds also exist.

    There are also artificial planes, worlds created usually by the Planeswalkers of old through sheer will. The creator of such a world defines all of its rules. These planes however, are unstable and eventually collapse if there is nothing that would sustain their existence (like constant flow of mana, or technical means). It has been theorized that several new-breed Planeswalkers might be able to create an artificial plane by combining their powers.


    Several Known Planes:
        Spoiler:- Alara:


        Spoiler:- Dominaria:


        Spoiler:- Innistrad:


        Spoiler:- Kamigawa:


        Spoiler:- Lorwyn/Shadowmoor:


        Spoiler:- Mirrodin (now New Phyrexia):


        Spoiler:- New Phyrexia (Formerly Mirrodin):


        Spoiler:- Ravnica:


        Spoiler:- Zendikar:


    Mana:
    Mages and planeswalkers of the Multiverse can cast a vast array of spells—they can drain the life of a foe, supplement their allies with arcane strength, even summon a dragon. But all magic requires mana. Mana is the magical energy that powers spells. Where do you get it? Mana comes from the land. Mages must know a place to gather mana from it. Mana is scarce, so mages don't have infinite energy to cast spells. Mana is the magical energy fueling spells of spellcasters. It is also deeply interconnected with life-force in every plane, and it can take that role by itself as well. When there is no mana in an area, everything dies, and where mana's density is very low, lifeforms become emaciated and weak.
    There are five colors of mana, and each comes from a different type of land:
    White - Plains
    Blue - Islands
    Black - Swamps
    Red - Mountains
    Green - Forests
    Each color is driven by different values.

    (Information continued in next post)

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  2. #2
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    Five Colors of Magic:
    White: White puts value in the group, the community, and its civilization as a whole. White's ultimate goal is peace, harmony, and perfection — a world where everyone gets along and no one seeks to disturb the bonds of unity that White had worked so long to forge. To govern and protect its community, White makes use of and puts value in a number of broad concepts; morality (ethics, grace, truth), order (law, discipline, duty), uniformity (conformity, religion), and structure (government, planning, reason).
        Spoiler:- More on White:


    Blue:
    Blue is the color that looks on the world and sees opportunity. For Blue, life is a chance to contemplate oneself, and what is possible, and to bring about the best of both. Implicitly, in that general world view, Blue believes in tabula rasa: it sees in each thing, the potential for being anything. One need only understand how, to make the change. So with this ill-formed goal before it, Blue reasons that if it is to make itself better, it must become capable of everything it could be capable of, for that is to "merely add" to its own capabilities. Blue believes it can't possibly be bad to acquire the potential for any conscious action. Thus, Blue, believing it is capable of changing anything if it understands the change, and believing it is imperative that it acquire every capability it could have, concludes that it is imperative that it understand change. Moreover, Blue decides that it must understand everything; for truly, understanding can only improve one's effectiveness in any task. To gain understanding, Blue must acquire knowledge. Since knowledge itself will inform every other decision, Blue forms its principle goal: omniscience, the knowledge of all.
        Spoiler:- More on Blue:


    Black:Black is the color of self-indulgence, parasitism, amorality and unfettered desire for power. It believes that the world is made for its taking and that the weak exist to be exploited by the strong. The essence of Black is to see one's own ego as so supremely invaluable, that the prospect of enslavement, of subordinating that ego to another, is utterly inadmissible. So, to be in accord with its perceptions and beliefs, Black simply must discard all obligations but to acquire power for itself. It can be no less than the one supreme being who is subordinate to no other, the possessor of all power in the universe - it must become omnipotent.
        Spoiler:- More on Black:


    Red:Above all else, red values freedom of expression. It wants to do what it wants, when it wants, to whom it wants, and nobody can tell it otherwise. It believes that life would be much more fun if everyone stopped caring about rules, laws and personal appearances and just spent their time indulging their desires. This leads into red's other core value: chaos. Red sees order of any kind as pointlessly inhibiting, believing that only through embracing anarchy could everyone really be free to enjoy life to the fullest. Finally, red is the color of immediate action and immediate gratification. If it wants something it will act on its impulses and take it, regardless of the consequences.
        Spoiler:- More on Red:


    Green: Green is the color of nature, growth, interdependence and instinct. It believes that obedience the natural order alone is the best way to exist and thus favors a simplistic way of living in harmony with the rest of the world. This can often lead to it be perceived as a pacifistic color, as it does not seek to make conflict with the other colors as long as they leave it alone and do not disrespect nature. However, it is fierce when it feels threatened and can be predatory and aggressive if its instincts dictate.
        Spoiler:- More on Green:


    ==========

    Spells and Summoning:
    Summoning is the process by which a magic-user calls forth, or 'summons' a creature to do their bidding. summoning involves the creation of a faux entity based on the concept of that creature, which is pulled from the Ćther. These summoned creatures have no will of their own, and vanish when no longer needed. The summoning of unique, individuals is similar to this, but based on the concept of a specific individual and not simply off of a group or species.

    Spells, are your standard magical fare. Each color alignment has a multitude of spells in its library. Some spells are easy, almost effortless affairs, while others require immense amounts of time, concentration, and mana to cast.

    Both spells and summonings require the use of mana.

    ==========

    Species and Classes (and other tidbits):
    The Multiverse is home to dozens of different species, with dozens of different alignments and variants between their appearances on different planes. Practically any creature you can imagine is present. For this RPG, you're limited only by the need for your characters' species to be sentient. A list of known species in the Multiverse can be found here. And for the purposes of the RPG, you may essentially choose from any of the "Humanoid" or "Sentient Non-Humanoid" species. Then again, perhaps you hail from a plane where wombats and Pegusai are indeed sentient. I'm allowing a great deal of freedom when it comes to character creation.

    Class represents the career or calling in life. There are as many classes as there are professions. Among them are archers, alchemists, artificers, assassins, barbarians, berserkers, bodyguards, clerics, knights, mercenaries, monks, mystics, ninja, pirates, rogues, samurai, shamans, soldiers, spellshapers, warriors, and wizards. And that's just scratching the surface. Within each class are a myriad of skills and specializations that are entirely up to you. A helpful guide or starting point can be found here.

    Official Rules:
    1. No god-modding.
    2. Two/three character maximum.
    3. Only control your own character unless given permission otherwise by the other character's owner.
    4. No killing other OC's without their owner's permission.
    5. If you wish to make an NPC with a large part then please just state that on the sign-ups so that it doesn't get killed. Otherwise it's open season.
    6. You must have good grammar! Get a proofreader for all I care! Use the spell-check! Anything, just make sure things make sense. I can tolerate some slip-ups, but nothing on a constant basis.
    7. Please try to post at least once every 2-5 days (unless you give me a reason why you can't). Any longer than that and we might lose you or leave you behind.
    8. No making up histories for characters (even NPCs) that aren't your own.
    9. I reserve the right to kick you out of this RPG if you break one of these rules seriously enough. I will, however, give you a chance to explain or redeem yourself so it won't be a "BAM goodbye" sort of deal


    =====Sign-up Form=====

    Name:
    Age:
    Gender:
    Species: (Must be sentient)
    Class: (Or as close as you can pin it down)
    Color(s): (I'm not putting a limit here, but be reasonable)
    Appearance:
    Personality:
    History:
    Abilities: (Describe the types of spells, summons, and/or powers your character can use)
    Equipment: (Any sort of items or artifacts the character carries with him/her)
    Plane From (w/description): (Summarize to the best of your ability)

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  3. #3
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    Here are my signups. I don't necessarily expect this much from everyone else...but I certainly won't object to it!

        Spoiler:- Jareth of Alara:


        Spoiler:- Lance of Innistrad:


        Spoiler:- Claire of Zendikar:

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  4. #4
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    Alright, here goes, my first character! The second may come either late this day or tomorrow

    Name: Gibrael Vons

    Age: 23

    Gender: Male

    Species: Human

    Class: Cleric

    Color(s): White

    Appearance: Upon spotting Gibrael, even if simply walking in the distance, one is automatically reminded of a holy figure, though ghostly and mysterious. He wears the same garments at all times, a constantly flowing loose robe of gleaming white made of several layers of silk, some dyed blue or red. This vest covers most of his body but the head (the hood is kept down at nearly all times) and in more ways than one resembles the Dawn Elemental in texture, but with a slightly altered colour scheme.

    Gibrael himself is not that impressive physically. While well built, he does not possess a huge frame or a towering figure. Though he is slightly toned, mostly from his young life in the farm combined with the hard life he’s faced since those days, he still appears too young to cause any powerful impression. His face is round and boy-ish, with small lips and tiny blue eyes that can pierce your soul and judge your every sin. His hair used to be blonde, but ever since he absorbed the Elemental creature at the moment of his spark’s first trigger it has turned a striking white (not grey nor colourless) and flows softly all the way to his neck, resembling a field of wheat being struck by a gentle wind whenever a breeze makes it dance.

    Personality: Following in the true path of both his religious teachings and the elemental colour he’s been surrounded by since birth, this boy has grown under strong beliefs he’d sooner die for than corrupt. First and foremost, he believes one should be true to himself above all else: if there is evil in your heart, face it and work to eliminate it, even if it takes your entire life to do it and your victory is achieved only on your deathbed. Secondly, he believes in the possibility that everyone, not matter their past, personality or deeds, can be absolved and be reborn anew as a better individual, even if by force.

    These traits make him both naive and selfish, not to mention a dogmatic, in regards to his outlook on society and humans as a whole.

    After his awakening, the beliefs and powers born from the creation of a Planeswalker and the absorption of an elemental of purity, cleansing, renewal and immortality were incorporated as his own. While naive and altruistic before, believing his powers as a healer and spiritual advisor would bring about a better world, when confronted with the immensity of the multiverse he switched goals: he would still help anyone he could, but now he aimed for a better society in and of itself, even if he’d need to cleanse the souls of every living being and make them all start anew in every plane he visited.

    History:Gibrael started small: he lived on a small village with his parents and dedicated his time to his family and their little farm. He lived far away from both wars of blade and wars of coin and considered his small town the only world he’d ever care about. That soon changed.
    Living all his life in that tight community, Gibrael only ever experienced the more pleasant aspects of society: he knew his neighbours by name and helped them with their crops and he shared food with them, and gave them aid when necessary. He considered this normal and customary for the whole world, for that was all he knew of it and human society.

    It was the day that a group of rebels pillaged his village, killing, stealing, raping and burning everything in their path that he saw this illusion break. As one of the few survivors of a burnt out village he saw his purpose on this world disappear, and sought refuge in religion. He followed the path of a cleric and came in touch with the soothing beauty that was white mana: he became quite the healer and gained wisdom in the words of the priests and messiahs that came before him. He understood everything he read, except one thing: if Humans are misguided creatures, how can they be forgiven for their sins with anything other than death? He was young and bore little tolerance. He lacked his present understanding and forgiveness.

    What brought forth his new self was an event fate had thrown him: during his travels from town to town, the ones he made as a cleric and wandering priest, he came across the same group of bandits that had killed his family and friends as they rampaged on yet another village, and his composure was lost. For the first time in his life, he was thrown into a field of war.

    He did not last long.

    He was easily dispatched and his near lifeless body was thrown off the cliff the village was built on. On this moment, as he plunged backwards into death and as the sky grew farther and farther away from him, he felt power welling inside him. His Planeswalker spark was igniting. There was a surge of power and an explosion of white mana, though that was not all. A Dawn Elemental, a being made of pure white mana said to be immortal, was drawn to this man’s heart and cause and captured during the surge of power erupting from the awakening.

    Gibrael’s transformation entered the final stage and he started reabsorbing the white mana he’d expelled only to end up sucking in a being made of the same material. Gibrael, still glowing pure power, flew upwards from the cliff and landed right in the middle of the bandits (who could do nothing but stand in awe as the light faded and revealed a new being.)

    Gibrael wasted no time. Each and every pillager was pierced by a powerful, physical stream of white mana that flooded their entire being, including their soul. They were forcibly cleansed clean of all sins, urges and memories of times of evil and reborn anew as new, pure beings; free to live a new life unburdened by past sins. It was the ultimate gift of compassion.

    Gibrael spent the rest of his time as a Planeswalker getting to know the multiverse, travelling through different planes and doing his best to help the populace no matter how small or big a gesture he made.

    He has recently found himself on Innistrad, where his dogmas are being questioned by the very existence of beings called werewolves and vampires. How can these creatures find salvation in life, when even after being whipped clean of their memories, their animal side compels them to sin again?

    Is death the only salvation he can offer?

    Abilities: Gibrael is one with the Elemental and can call out its form, transforming into pure energy capable of salvation through healing or cleansing. He does not do this often, but in this stage, he can call out the “Dawn” magic that transforms all mana it contacts to white mana, making him stronger and his enemies unable to rely on their own colours for their magic.

    Dawn of a New Life/Mind Cleanse: This is not trickery of mental manipulation the likes blue magic has to offer. No, this is the flooding of the mind and even soul by untainted white mana. It washes away all that is impure, even memories, leaving only values and beliefs white mana respects. Gibrael views this as a second birth and a baptism all at the same time, where an individual is re-born to a new life wiped away from former sin.

    Imposing Light: His domain: Light. He manipulates it, not to create illusions or to fool others, but to overpower them. This light is charged with his very own beliefs: his dogma. Very few are the creatures that can withstand the urge to bow to their knees and ask for atonement when Gibrael unleashes this spell and literally brings about a new Dawn as he becomes the beacon for his notion of salvation. The unholy creatures that dot the plane of Innistrad are particularly averse to it, many being purged of whatever magics caused them to walk from the grave in the first place and disassembling on the ground, making this his greatest ally when in combat with such abominations.

    Merciful Judgement: The Dawn Elemental was an immortal being immune to any injury. Gibrael was a cleric working to heal what he came across: be it injury of the body, or a wound of the soul. Healing is Gibrael’s speciality, and he is so good at it that many a rumour have sprouted saying that, underneath the white shimmering robes lies nothing but pure mana, so that the man cannot be injured by weapon or draw blood. When healing others, Gibrael has a habit of making them feel his own dogma approaching their soul and slowly enlighten them (many would call this brainwashing, though Gibrael himself refuses to go that far.) Many are the wounded and sick that enter his tent looking for healing and leave with new found wisdom.

    Astral Steel: Gibrael refuses to fight to the death, but sometimes physical punishment is a just sentence before salvation. Not to mention that his Mind Cleanse spell works best on a dying target (it is at this stage people are at their most receptive for his so called salvation. Who would not accept a new life as they experience their death?) So he has learned to fashion his belief into steel which he can temper and shape to his liking. Be it shield, spear or whatever convenient object, this spell can materialize it. On Innistrad, this spell has found itself being used far too often for Gibrael’s liking.

    Equipment: Robes of the White Dawn: A Dawn Elemental’s living essence repurposed as fabric. These robes absorb White Mana from wherever it can find it, then stores it and purifies it further. This pure White Mana is the perfect tool for Gibrael: his dogma can be easily weaved into it. It also bestows Gibrael the ability of flight. Just like the Elemental’s essence took the form of a robe, Gibrael speculates he could easily render it into an armour and enchant it with the powers of light and purity, though the need for that has never risen.

    Plane From (w/description):Dominaria; more specifically, Otaria.

  5. #5
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    Well, time for my SU.

    Name: Rimuel Dawnwatcher
    Age: 25
    Gender: Male
    Species: Human (Mirran)
    Class: Knight (Paladin)
    Color(s): White/Red

    Appearance: As a warrior who has known many harsh battles both on his home world and in many other planes, Rimuel has been hardened by the experiences. He is muscular and slender, with short-cut silver-white hair and piercing, cold grey eyes. Like most Mirran humans, he has plates and growths of metal as part of his body, in his case this takes the form of natural plates on his shoulders, forearms and shins, as well as two spikes which grow to either side of his spine at the level of his neck. Being of the Auriok, these metal plates are golden in shade, while his skin is a bronzed color.

    Like most of the Auriok, Rimuel prefers to wear loose clothing, in his case a white tunic and leggings. However, as a warrior he supplements his natural metal plates with steel armor which covers his torso, head and thighs, leaving him as well-armored as most soldiers. At his belt are sheathes for his swords and pouches for various useful things he might acquire on his travels.

    Personality: A grim and humorless individual most of the time, Rimuel is not one for smiles and laughter. If he ever did enjoy himself, it was at a time when his home was not ruled by the Phyrexians and most of those he knew were either dead or suffering a much worse fate. His ideals and ethics have been shaped by the hell he watched Mirrodin become. The weak are a dangerous liability in his eyes, and a risk to those who fight beside them. While once he might have considered anyone worth the help of the community, having seen the horror of Phyrexia and endured a nightmarish battle against the invaders, Rimuel now believes that only those who can help themselves deserve to belong.

    While he still believes in the value of community and teamwork, Rimuel is caught at a point between the ideals of red and white. While upholding the ideal of community, he also has come to believe that it is up to the individual to prove their worth to society and in doing so earn their place. As such he is disdainful of those who sees as having not proven themselves, and will often simply tell them to help themselves. That said, in battle, he will not deny his allies help if they require it, believing the act of taking arms and joining battle enough to prove one's worth in itself.

    As might be expected, Rimuel despises the Phyrexians, and the merest mention of them will noticably sour his mood. His greatest desire is to see New Phyrexia purged and Mirrodin restored to its former glory, and to this end, he seeks to gather the forces of the multiverse to destroy the abominations which now rule his beloved home. However, he is zealous and single-minded about this to the point he has a tendency to ignore the problems of others, forever citing the threat New Phyrexia might pose to the multiverse. Due to his hate and paranoia, Rimuel will often burn the dead to ash, leaving no resource for Phyrexia to benefit from. This is a habit maintained from his battles on Mirrodin against the Phyrexians.

    History: Born on Mirrodin shortly after the end of Memnarch's mad reign over the plane, Rimuel was raised among the Auriok as a soldier and protector of the nomadic people. He took to his training well, and though he was to remain one of many among the Auriok ranks, he was content. He learned to fight against the many enemies of people, from the nim and the Moriok to the various feral artifact creatures wandering the Razor Fields.

    However, his relatively blissful life was soon brought to an end by the rise of New Phyrexia. As the invaders slowly corrupted Mirrodin and compleated its inhabitants, Rimuel, like his fellows, fought back. Often using guerilla warfare to try and outmanuveur the enemy, they fought many skirmishes with the nightmarish Phyrexians, their numbers dwindling with each passing week as the Mirran rebels were killed or captured. Eventually one of the group's camps was discovered, and a last stand against Phyrexia was fought by the Auriok warrior and his allies. They fought to the last, but ultimately Rimuel was the only one left standing. Enraged by the deaths of his allies and the horror awaiting him if he were captured, he resolved to go down in a blaze of glory, killing as many Phyrexians as he could. However, as he made his last charge against the massed enemy, his Planeswalker spark ignited from his sheer hate and resolve. Ascended, the reborn Planeswalker tapped into the white and red mana of Mirrodin and with his newfound power he slaughtered the force opposing him, reducing their corpses to ash to prevent Phyrexia from reclaiming its lost assets.

    Grim and bitter over how the resistance had failed, Rimuel vanished into the multiverse, instinctively walking through the planes and coming to Alara. In the reforged plane, he found himself on Naya. Confused by the strange new plane, he fought against the various predators who came from the wilderness, until finally he was confronted by a leonin. Though he knew the race, having met many while on Mirrodin, this one appeared different to any he knew. He lacked the metal common to Mirrodin's native species. After a brief exchange of heated words, Rimuel was informed he was on the plane of Alara, and was offered hospitality by the leonin, who wished to learn more of this strange new arrival. Accepting, Rimuel was taken to a leonin village, and told his guide of Mirrodin and how the Phyrexians had invaded. Though sympathetic, if confused, the leonin informed the Planeswalker that Alara had its own problems also, due to the Conflux reforging the plane from its five shards.

    Disappointed, Rimuel planeswalked away from Alara, and continued to travel the multiverse. Kamigawa, Lorwyn, Innistrad... he travelled many planes and met many people, telling them of what Mirrodin had become and asking for their help, but always he was told they could not traverse between planes as he could. Finally, he resolved to find a way to open the pathways between worlds to those who did not hold the spark of a Planeswalker, and began a quest in search of a spell or device to allow this. In this time he also honed his skills, fighting monstrosities and foes across the planes, vampires and werewolves on Innistrad, dark fae on Shadowmoor, the darker guilds of Ravnica. All of this was in preparation for one day, the day when he would return to Mirrodin at the head of an army assembled from many worlds, and finally purge the Phyrexians from his home.

    Abilities: Since ascending to become a Planeswalker, Rimuel has learned to manipulate red and white mana in destructive ways, usually based around the ideal of cleansing. He can summon gouts of fire to consume his enemies, cast lightning from his hands to electrify them, and unleash burning white light to cleanse unholy entities such as demons and vampires. Though he knows some arts of healing, Rimuel's prowess with mana is very much focused on the destruction of his enemy.

    Equipment: Whispersilk Cloak An artifact acquired on Rimuel's travels, while worn, this lightweight cloak renders him invisible. As such, Rimuel often employs it when stealth is required for his mission. However, he can still be touched, and the cloak does not render him undetectable by magical means.

    Bladed Pinions An artifact recovered from his home some time before he awakened his spark, these golden metal wings allow Rimuel to gain the power of flight. However, they only work for about two hours at a time, and require three hours to 'recharge' before they can be used again after that.

    Accorder's Shield A medium-sized rectangular shield of standard issue to Auriok soldiers on Mirrodin. The shield itself is relatively mundane, except it is polished to a mirrored finish, allowing Rimuel to use it to look around obstacles without exposing himself to danger.
    [CENTER]

    Credit for the banner goes to Kamotz

  6. #6
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    @niedude: Gibrael is accepted. I'll edit here when your next character is posted.

    @storymasterb: Rimuel is accepted.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

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    Name: Tsukiko Yuu “superior child of the moon”
    Age: 32
    Gender: Female
    Species: Soratami (Moonfolk)
    Class: Wizard (Geistmancer to be specific)
    Color(s): Blue/ Red
    Appearance: Unlike the common Soratami who are women with few, barely recognizable rabbit traits, Yuu comes from a particular clan where the animal characteristics of the rabbit are stronger than the human traits. While her body is clearly anthropomorphic, she is covered in soft, fluffy white fur. Her face has sharp, narrowed human eyes and a petite human mouth, but her little nose is that of a rabbit, flat and black, like a little dot on her face, and she has a habit of perking her nostrils every now and again much like the cute little creatures do. Her hair is long and the same colour as her fur and seems to be constantly flowing like if being hit by a gust of wind even if she is indoors. Two long rabbit ears poke out of from each side of her head and descend down to her chest, where a silk ribbon links both and forms a beautiful knot over her bosom.

    Though her clan’s fur is by tradition pure white, she is one of the rare exception to have streaked skin. In her case, red patches which began to manifest the more in touch with her red side she became.

    Her usual attire is a traditional “shozoku” (ninja-garb) dyed deep crimson. It is a stark contrast with her white fur and does little to conceal her presence, but that is just to her liking: deceit and the constant avoidance of face-to-face confrontation was the one thing that made her want to leave her tribe in the first place.

    Personality: If there is one defining trait of Yuu’s, it’s her tendency to overachieve. She not only aims for the highest of all possible rewards or benefits she could get from doing something, she is unable to comprehend some people’s tendency to do simple things with no benefit. Reading a book? Surely you wish to learn of your enemies weakness! Going on a trip? You intend to return stronger than ever and enslave those who crossed you on your past! Nothing short of planar domination is on her mind at this moment, though her mind is quite the fickle thing.

    The more in tune with her Red aspect she became, the more impulsive, irrational and rebellious she grew. While originally she was, like all Soratami, much more willing to plot a war from start to finish down to the tiniest of details before it even started, now she just wings it or decides to change up her plan halfway through the battle simply because of her mood. And she is very moody: that is most likely the reason she has yet to conquer any plane she’s ever visited; she either gets bored of it a week after being there, or she decides to kill all the villagers she intended to enslave. And after all, what’s a ruler without slaves? Surely nothing. She’d not even have anyone to build her castle.

    Yuu is also deeply egocentric and tends to consider herself superior to every living – and unliving – thing she comes across, often making her seem detached as she doesn’t even give her company the pleasure of her attention. If this is the extent of what happens, however, consider yourself blessed by the God of Luck and Life: she will burn you alive and make you one of her dead minions with no remorse whatsoever. And just remember, on Innistrad (where she learnt most of her magic from,) death is just a career change: being her flame geist means torturing and being tortured with your final destiny potentially being becoming the power source for her new spell.

    History: Yuu was born among a particularly deceitful clan of Soratami. Her clan, like all Soratami, secluded itself away from all other creatures, but it never lost track of what happened on the earth. Wielding powerful illusion magic, they always kept one agent on the ground among the other tribes, and achieved their interests be them political, military, academic or economical, through sabotage, blackmail or even assassination.

    Her clan, her life, was all about deceit and lies. But Yuu seemed to be the only one remotely troubled by it. Unlike her sisters, who were more than happy weaving illusions, twisting reality and hiding behind false truths, Yuu craved something real. Her clan was powerful and she always grew knowing it, but the more she saw and experienced the more she felt it was ill gained.

    She wanted to change it. One day she confronted the clan’s matron and, after a heated debate (that quickly derailed into Yuu spewing insults and accusations at her elder) the elder simply stated that “true power is not that which you believe it to be.”

    How did she dare? She hid behind lies and illusions and yet she claimed to be the one holding the true notion of power? She was wrong, and Yuu would prove it. She challenged the elder to a fight and, before the old woman could refuse or spawn a wall of deceit to protect her, Yuu blasted her with a powerful wave of red mana. This was the first time she channelled this colour, and immediately she fell in love with the powerful burst of emotion – a passion for combat and thoughtless destruction – she felt take over her being. This was also the first time red patches stained her white fur.

    After the initial blast of red magic overtook her, the elder’s clothes set on fire. The initial surprise that one of her children had channelled a colour traditionally deemed as an “enemy alignment” added on to her staggered state, and she succumbed before she could weave a single spell, engulfed by near infinite blasts of fire.

    After she was able to calm down, Yuu realized what she had done. She had murdered her clan elder, her matriarch, out of a whim… And yet she was not upset. Or rather, this new feeling of power that was born in her during this fight nulled any feeling of mourning weighting her heart. Furthermore, she proved her elder she was right: her own power defeated experienced illusion magic. She showed her own clan they were wrong!

    That was how it all started. After that day she continued her experiments with red magic; with each spell she cast, the deeper grew her passion for this magic. She continued training herself and growing stronger, both due to her own desire to grow stronger and because when she ran from her cloud-top home, after killing her matriarch, she decided further humiliation was needed and stole one of her clan’s most precious possessions: the legendary treasure, Tatsumasa, the Dragon’s Fang. The problem was that these two blasphemies led to the unleashing of the Patron of the Moon, the soratami ruling deity.

    When she was finally found by the Patron she deemed it was time to fight rather than flight, even if she was going to be up against a God. The Patron’s powerful magic nullified all of the illusions she spew (much to her dismay, the status as a high ranking kami made her pull out all the stops) and it easily withstood the red magic she cast.

    Feeling rather poetic, she thought it a good idea to channel all her remaining mana on the blade and go for one final blow: what she did not expect was her planeswalker spark igniting at the moment the Dragon Spirit was released from within the blade. The Dragon absorbed Yuu’s natural pyromancer talent and became part Red and Blue. With a combination of two colours, this spirit was able to take down the high ranking Kami.

    With her new powers, Yuu planeswalked to several planes. Among them was Innistrad, the dark plane she found herself returning to the most. In this plane the very nature of spirits and “geist” magic appealed to her. She found herself studying flamegeists and, after much practice, she discovered she could make her Blue illusions turn into real objects by flooding them with Red mana and turning them into living flames, a mix between a flame geist and an Elemental, and with remarkable ease.


    Abi
    lities:
    Being a Soratami, she is capable of effortless flight. Her most characteristic ability is the power to form a veritable army of red beings of pure energy, a mixture of illusions, elemental creations and flamegeists. When she fights, the first thing her opponents see is a red, blood like mist coating the area followed by innumerable fiery creations taking form inside it.

    If she is feeling like it, she may create a dragon of flames itself, or fight you with her legendary sword, though this is arguably rare for her. Still, she is moody, temperamental and unpredictable, so never be too sure of her attack pattern, and never be foolish enough to think you can guess her next move.

    Equipment:
    Tatsumasa, Dragon’s Fang

    Plane From (w/description):
    Kamigawa.
    Last edited by niedude; 29th February 2012 at 12:42 AM. Reason: exterminated the wombats and replaced it with thoughtless. But this typo will not be forgotten xP

  8. #8
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    @niedude: Yuu is accepted...or "are accepted"? Hmmm...no, I had it right the first time. It's too bad about all that wombat destruction though.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
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  9. #9
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    Name: Thamien Holimion
    Age: 24
    Gender: Male
    Species: Human Elf Hybrid
    Class: Assassin
    Colors: Green, Blue and Black

    Appearance:
    As a young man with moderate exercise, Thamien doesn’t have very strong a build. He’s rather tall and lanky, slightly pale from a lack of regular sunlight. His face is not as delicate as your average Elf, taking on the stronger features of a Human. The only features that carry over from his father’s side are his silvery blue eyes and his tapered off ears. His short auburn hair comes from his mother’s side.

    Along his chest and back are long scars from the beatings he received during his magic training as a child. Thamien has since attempted to mask those scars with carvings into his chest and back made from diluted Moonglove extract in intricate tribal patterns out of his respect for the Elven tribes of Lorwyn. His work with the highly corrosive poison has also caused severe burn scarring on his fingertips, burning off all ten of his fingernails permanently. He mostly wears white cotton gloves to hide the scars on his hands, but he's also willing to use them as tools of intimidation in a last ditch attempt to avoid a fight.

    Thamien comes dressed to the nines in a blue, three-piece silken suit, something not often seen in the ‘less civilized’ planes. He does not like getting his suit dirty, and will often remove it in a long fight. On his head, he wears a blue velvet fedora, with two slits cut into it for his ears.

    Personality:
    Thamien Holimion has developed a reputation for his ruthlessness. To him, victory comes to the last man standing and any tactics (clean or otherwise) to achieve the goal of survival are viable. He’s almost inhumanly calm and collected, even in dangerous situations. He likes to crack wise, and being as well versed in planar lore as he is, he has a wide arsenal of humor to draw from. He’s a loner, only drawing strength from other when it benefits himself directly. He doesn’t despise any species or organization as he never knows if and when they might offer him work. This mentality has earned him friends in high places whom he can call favors from if he’s in the area. Of course this mentality has also made him a great deal of enemies who will stop at nothing to see him dead.

    In battle, Thamien sneaks off and waits for the perfect chance. He strikes only when he knows he has a distinct advantage. He is an opportunist, using any weapon in his arsenal or his environment to turn the battle to his favor.

    Thamien is uneasy in large groups. Even from his childhood he’s only been accustomed to a small number of people being around him at any given time. He’s also surprisingly non-combative when he’s off the clock, diffusing any quarrel against himself and others as best he can. He can’t stand anyone who bears a grudge. To him, war is just people getting paid to kill other people, and once you’re not getting paid it’s just not worth it to keep fighting.

    History:
    Thamien was born on a small industrialized plane known as Cooperville to an Elven father and a Human mother. His father, Datiri Holimion was at the time the head of the Holimion crime syndicate and as such Thamien sat in the lab of luxury his first years of life. He never really saw much of his father, and when he did Datiri was quick to hide his more sinister activities from him. Most of his childhood was spent with his mother and the servants of Holimion manor.

    On the day of his fourth birthday, his life changed forever. Unbeknownst to Thamien, his father had run afoul of the local Thallid tribes by assassinating several tribal leaders, upsetting the most powerful of them, the ancient extra-planar Mother Thallid. While Thamien and his mother were celebrating at the family lake house, Mother Thallid sent some of her undead servants to kill them as a message to Datiri. The attack was swift and brutal; many of the Holimion family servants were killed. Thamien, unable to process what was happening began to cry. As his mother cradled him, trying to shield him from the inevitable barrage of bullets, a latent power activated inside of Thamien. Mother Thallid herself appeared to lay the final blow, but she stopped when she sensed something within the young boy. A Planeswalker’s spark was activating for the first time. Within moments, Thamien was gone.

    He awoke to a strange sight. A massive forest had sprawled out in all directions, with random octahedrons dotting the landscape. Immediately, he began to cry out for his mother. In his fear, he didn’t even realize that his screaming would draw out unsavory characters. Without realizing it, a large beast had emerged from the trees with its intent to make him an early snack. Before he could be eaten however, he was rescued. A young woman dropped down from the forest canopy and drove the beast away. While this strange boy was at first met with scorn, she realized that this plane was not his own. The woman introduced herself as Nissa Rivane, gave him a basic lesson in Planeswalking and guided him on his way home, only to disappear back into the Blind Infinities. The boy returned home only to find that Mother Thallid had made a deal with his father to ensure his own survival.

    Over the next few years, Mother Thallid trained the boy to use his powers in exchange for favors running items between planes. She also taught him necromancy, a skill that would serve him well later in life. Mother Thallid’s training was harsh and he would be severely beaten and the horrendous acts his father committed were revealed with each failure. Her cruelty continued until Thamien spited Datiri with each breath. At that point, her true ambitions made themselves known.

    At the age of nine, Thamien was sent to the plane of Lorwyn to gather Moonglove. There he met the Elves of Gilt-Leaf, whom after he commended them on their beauty was taught the secret of extracting the poison from the flower. Upon his return, Mother Thallid returned his to the care of his parents. He waited patiently for six months to execute his plan, but at the Summer’s End Ball his father puts on every year he found his chance. Putting on the cute child routine, he distracted the cooks while he dropped Moonglove extract on the plates of food meant for his father and each of his advisors. That night, Datiri Holmion and half of the highest ranking members of the Holimion crime syndicate died, their cause of death was never identified. As such, Thamien, being named the next in line was declared head of the family. To add insult to injury, Thamien revived Datiri’s corpse which became Thamien’s public face. In her grief, his mother attempted to take her own life, leading to her confinement at St. Anabel’s Institution for the Mentally Ill. Mother Thallid’s revenge was complete, not only was Datiri Holimion dead, but she got his son to do the deed.

    As head of the Holimion syndicate, Thamien continued to use his Planeswalking abilities to give the gang an unhealthy advantage over its competitors. He learned biomancy from the remnants of the Simic guild of Ravnica, gaining the use of cytoplasts. He also continued his necromancy lessons with Golgari remnants, combining both magic schools into something completely his own. By the age of eighteen, he reorganized the Holimion family into the most powerful of the Elven syndicates on Cooperville. Through all this time however, he grew bored of life in Cooperville and set his sights on planes beyond. The first task he set out on free from Mother Thallid and the expectations of the Holimion syndicate was to expand his reputation. From then on, he offered his services to the highest bidder, whether to retrieve rare artifacts, act as a go-between between planes, or eliminate targets that pose a threat. Despite this, he declares allegiance to no one organization, opting instead to remain neutral to any planar conflict.

    In recent months, he’s heard rumors of Planeswalkers disappearing without a trace. He’s rushed to Zendikar to warn the first Planeswalker he ever met, only to find her gone and the monstrous Eldrazi in her place. He has chosen to hire himself for the job of locating Nissa, repaying the favor she gave him by helping him home as a child, and investigating the rumors.

    Abilities: Thamien uses a self-developed magic style he refers to as Corpomancy, the magic of the body. Using Necromancy to break down dead flesh and biomancy to reform the material, Thamien has access to magic that can change to suit his needs. He can either form augmentations to his body or reform the matter into Oozes or Zombies that follow his orders.

    Equipment:
    Moonglove-laced Switchblades – Access to the plane of Lorwyn has given Thamien use of the Moonglove plant and its potent poison. The blade has a spring loaded mechanism that injects Moonglove Extract into the wound if the blade is removed improperly. Mainly used as throwing knives.
    Deathrender - An elegant blade that he uses to aid in his necromancy.

    Plane From: Cooperville, a small city-plane whose development is equivalent to 1930’s Chicago. See plane description in post below.
    Last edited by Gentleman Skeleton; 13th March 2012 at 5:36 PM.
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  10. #10
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    @Gentleman Skeleton: A couple things keep this in the pending category.

    First, and most importantly, I'm going to need a LOT more on his Plane. If you're making up an entire world, society, and history from scratch, I'm going to need it. It's not enough to say 1930s Chicago, because 1930s Chicago did not begin as 1930s Chicago. There's several hundred years of American History that led to that point, to say nothing of the Native American History that preceded it.

    Second, I have to ask you to nix the Sword of B&M, since from the symbol on the card, it's a Mirran weapon. And (more importantly) it and the other swords will play a larger role later on in the RPG.

    Third, I'm unsure about the use of guns, even simple simple ones (to say nothing of a tommy gun). In the MTG worlds, it's just a little bit...off, or broken.

    Also, do you really think Bolas would just hire him out for assassination jobs? Someone as manipulative as that dragon wouldn't leave such a free-ranging loose end. But that's a minor detail that I can overlook.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
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  11. #11
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    Quote Originally Posted by Kamotz View Post
    @Gentleman Skeleton: A couple things keep this in the pending category.

    First, and most importantly, I'm going to need a LOT more on his Plane. If you're making up an entire world, society, and history from scratch, I'm going to need it. It's not enough to say 1930s Chicago, because 1930s Chicago did not begin as 1930s Chicago. There's several hundred years of American History that led to that point, to say nothing of the Native American History that preceded it.

    Second, I have to ask you to nix the Sword of B&M, since from the symbol on the card, it's a Mirran weapon. And (more importantly) it and the other swords will play a larger role later on in the RPG.

    Third, I'm unsure about the use of guns, even simple simple ones (to say nothing of a tommy gun). In the MTG worlds, it's just a little bit...off, or broken.

    Also, do you really think Bolas would just hire him out for assassination jobs? Someone as manipulative as that dragon wouldn't leave such a free-ranging loose end. But that's a minor detail that I can overlook.
    Done and done. I'll just keep the gun in Cooperville should he ever have to return home.

    EDIT: One Plane description coming up:
        Spoiler:- Cooperville:
    Last edited by Gentleman Skeleton; 2nd March 2012 at 12:55 AM.
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    I use "uber" Pokemon in allotted tiers, I calculate stat values, I draw the line at cheating devices, I breed my way to perfection, and I care about natures. I breed my Pokemon out of the most ideal parental stock, and treat them like brainless drones made out of bits of data. I believe that thinking of them as anything more is pointless.

  12. #12
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    Also, it's as if 30's Chicago was always 30's Chicago. It's just the prohibition aspect happened recently.
    Right, but it doesn't exactly work like that. The closest canon plane I can compare this to is Ravnica. Ravnica was not always Ravnica. There was a history there, it wasn't always a huge city with the guilds being (sort of) at peace with one another. There was war and conflict, which eventually necessitated the Guildpact. So what I'm looking for in the plane description is what that relevant history is. Why outlaw magic? What catalyzed the separation into the 5 groups? Why those colors? Where do the regular people fit into all this? etc. That's the kind of world-building I'd need for an original plane.

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  13. #13
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    Alright, provided a basic rundown of the plane of Cooperville. Bear in mind, it's based off of what Thamien would know of his home. He hasn't been there in six years, so major changes might have happened to upset the status quo without his knowledge.
    If you're looking for a confidence boost in Marvel VS Capcom 3, Halo Reach or TF2, look me up.
    Pokemon White Friend Code: 2794-9939-9096
    I use "uber" Pokemon in allotted tiers, I calculate stat values, I draw the line at cheating devices, I breed my way to perfection, and I care about natures. I breed my Pokemon out of the most ideal parental stock, and treat them like brainless drones made out of bits of data. I believe that thinking of them as anything more is pointless.

  14. #14
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    @Gentleman Skeleton: Okay. Accepted.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  15. #15
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    Added my third character: under "Claire of Zendikar".

    Just waiting on some signups from storymasterb and GoldenHouou, I believe.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
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  16. #16
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    I really want to pressure the idea that everyone who plans on signing up to please do so by this weekend. You've had essentially 2 weeks to get your signup together, I think that's plenty of time, even with life-constraints, and I want to start this before interest in it dies down.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

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    Name: Morgana de Astolat
    Age: 25
    Gender: Female
    Species: Human
    Class: Knight (Paladin)
    Colors: Black, White and Blue

    Appearance: Lithe and atheletic, Morgana is a woman of cold beauty. Her features are sharp and rough, hardened by years of battle and training. Her eyes are an icy dark blue, while her pale blonde hair is cut short to shoulder-length, and a thin scar runs diagonally across her right cheek. Her figure is petite, to the point that if her hair were cut shorter, she could fairly easily pass for a young man. Indeed, people sometimes have some difficulty identifying her gender, something which irritates her to a degree.

    Usually, Morgana is dressed in the armor of a knight of Bant. She is clad in plates of shining steel, usually over a dark grey tunic and leggings, as well as dark leather boots and gloves. She completes the armor with a plain helmet which conceals her face from view. When not clad in her armor, she will often simply wear her tunic and leggings, sometimes completing her attire with a black traveling cloak with a hood.

    Personality: Quiet and harsh, Morgana refuses to suffer fools or heroes. She despises gloryhounds and preachers, especially those who would speak of giving their lives for some abstract ideal. In her view, the only cause worth one's life is the cause of protecting home and hearth. As such, religion and other expressions of faith are things she does not understand. The way Morgana sees it, one should devote themselves to the community, giving everything to further and protect it, regardless of what the law might say or what moral misgivings might plague them. In this way, Morgana represents the twisted union of Black and White ideals. In upholding White ideals of protecting the community and one's allies, she is willing to do anything to achieve the victory which will protect these things. She will sacrifice the few to save the many, break every rule of war, even resort to calling on the powers of the darkest and most debased aspects of the multiverse to destroy her foe. She is a knight without a lord, because her lord is herself.

    That said, Morgana may be cold and cunning, but she is not heartless. She despises notions of caste systems and social hierarchy which limit the potential of people, believing such things only shackle people to set positions in society based on their birth, not their individual merits. She also refuses to target the wounded or civilians, reserving her strategic prowess for warriors alone. However, due to her coldness, Morgana shows little interest in forming relationships with people. She will simply drift into a place, fulfill her aims there, and leave, barely letting the population of the area notice her. This is part of her inherent ruthlessness, it is much harder to sacrifice those you have bonded with, even for the worthiest cause.

    History: Born the daughter of a high-ranking noble of Bant, Morgana was raised as a squire, destined to become a knight. She trained with the sword and the lance, becoming more and more skilled as the years passed, until she was finally ready to charge into battle with the other knights, including her childhood sweetheart, Morgan of the Sable Sword. Unfortunately, just as she became a true knight, the Conflux occured. Alara was reforged from its separate shards, and the inhabitants of the other shards poured into each other. A force of Grixis zombies and demons marched for Bant, rampaging across the land, and Morgana was sent with the force chosen to defeat the horrors.

    The battle seemed fair enough. The field was relatively open, the forces of Grixis open for a devastating charge from the Bantian knights. However, the glory-hungry squires charged the demonic warlord leading the enemy, allowing the zombies and other mainline troops to flank them. Robbed of their movement advantage, the knights were dragged down and slain by the endless enemy, until finally only Morgana and Morgan were left. Eyes full of tears and her heart full of horror and rage, the young knight resolved to die fighting at Morgan's side, though she bitterly cursed the Sigils of Bant for causing such a catastrophic event. Desperate to try and save Morgana, Morgan rushed into battle first, but was swiftly cleaved in twain by a monstrous demon. Watching him die in a single moment, Morgana lost control, anger and bitterness mixing with grief and heartbreak. The mealstrom of terror, loss and fury unleashed her Planeswalker spark. She tapped into not only the vibrant white mana of her homeland, but the cold blue mana of Esper, and the shadowy, vile black mana of Grixis. Consumed in her new power, Morgana unleashed it. Arcs of annihilating light mixed with blades of shadow, tearing the foe asunder as the knight took her blade and cleaved through every rotted zombie shambling towards her, finally slaying the demon leader of the Grixis force. As reinforcements arrived from Bant, the young Planeswalker glared them all in the face and denounced the Sigils for leading the young knights of Bant to reckless heroism. Consumed by her passion and the exhaustion of the battle, she retreated into the multiverse, ultimately arriving in Ravnica.

    In the City of Guilds, she collapsed, overcome by the wounds of battle and the effort of unleashing her power. She was found by a regular citizen and taken to the healers of the Simic Combine, who worked to heal the knight, while also clandestinely implanting several cytoplasts onto her as part of an experiment. However, upon recovering fully from her injuries and realizing what had happened after conversing with a senior doctor of the Combine who knew the tales of the Planeswalkers, Morgana retrieved her equipment and left Ravnica. She arrived in Zendikar, and on the hellish, chaotic plain, she discovered what the Simic Combine had done to her. She had gained enhanced strength, speed and reflexes, letting her fight on a higher level than most humans could. Relishing in her new power, she fought monsters and explored Zendikar's expanses, collecting several artifacts of use, while also utilizing the strange, wild mana of the plane to develop her magical abilities. At this time, she came across a small settlement of humans threatened by a wild clan of vampires. Intrigued by how the warriors of the settlement attempted to fight the vampires despite clearly being outclassed, she decided to join their ranks. The battle which followed turned vastly in favor of the humans, Morgana's superior physical ability and magical prowess allowing her to devastate the vampires, even letting her fight the clan's leader to a standstill before her allies intervened.

    Even though she was praised and hailed as a savior, Morgana simply departed the next morning, and left Zendikar. She came to Innistrad, only to discover a plain wracked by terror. Werewolves and vampires stalked the night, hunting humans, and the settlement she arrived near fought a savage pack of werewolves. Once more, intrigued by human tenacity, Morgana joined the defenders. However, as they fought the werewolves, several of the soldiers she fought beside turned, becoming predatory nightmares and cutting down their allies. Finding herself outclassed by the werewolves, Morgana was left with a decision, try to save those she could by manipulating her allies to attack the werewolves and leave openings she could exploit, or attempt to flee, leaving all the humans to their deaths. At this moment, her resolve kicked in, and she made her choice. Deliberately ordering her allies into positions where they would be butchered, but would distract the werewolves, she proceeded to use the element of surprise to finish off the enemy. However, it came at the cost of her allies. Enraged by her betrayal, the grieving survivors chased Morgana from the town, leaving her to wander away from the battlefield.

    Angered, Morgana came to a new resolution, even if she had to be despised to do it, she would do whatever was necessary to protect those she believed worthy of her protection. She began to delve into darker and more destructive arts on several different planes, learning to obliterate her enemies and use misdirection and trickery. She learned the darker aspects of blue mana also, the powers to break minds and shatter memories. And she continued her quest, travelling the multiverse, finding those she believed worthy of protection, and betraying them to her ruthless ideals.

    Abilities: Due to the Simic Combine's cytoplast implants, Morgana is stronger, faster and reacts more quickly then the average human, almost supernaturally so.

    In terms of magical ability, Morgana has developed abilities from White, Black and Blue mana. She can cast spears of cold, obliterating light, consume a small area in annihilating light, sap her enemies' resolve to fight by filling them with despair, swathe herself in darkness to conceal herself , dull the senses of allies or enemies, and disrupt the magical powers of others.

    Equipment: Blade of the Bloodchief: A double-bladed sword taken from the leader of the vampire clan Morgana slew on Zendikar, this cursed weapon drinks in the deaths of others and gives Morgana greater strength as more deaths occur. However, this boost in strength lasts only for a few minutes after the death, and only drinks in the deaths of those within roughly twenty feet of Morgana. Due to her strength and dexterity, Morgana can wield the Blade in one hand.

    Trepanation Blade: A strange blade from Innistrad, Morgana wields this sword as a backup weapon, sometimes using it in tandem with the Blade of the Bloodchief if the battle requires a twin-blade style. However, it is usually impractical, as the Trepanation Blade is designed only for stabbing.

    Sigil of Distinction: Earned for her feat of routing the Grixis army when she became a Planeswalker, Morgana holds onto this Sigil only because she cannot bring herself to throw aside this one last memory of her home, and of how she avenged Morgan's death.

    Kite Shield: A battered and weathered shield bearing a symbol of Bant. Morgana doesn't often use her shield, but sometimes finds it a useful defense in battle.

    Plane From: Bant, Alara
    [CENTER]

    Credit for the banner goes to Kamotz

  18. #18
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    storymasterb: im writing this from a kindle (NOT Fire) so i cant really check the links in the signups. but in terms of content you are approved.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  19. #19
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    I'm hoping to start this up on Monday or Tuesday...Something like that. Hopefully I'll get the time to finish up my post. I've started it, but it's been a busy few days. Either way, you're all free to get a head start on your own, too, if you want. Like I said in the first post, we're going about our usual Planeswalking lives, when we feel a "pull" and follow it towards Dominaria.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  20. #20
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    Done with the both of these, sorry it took so long. Like mentioned before, I didn’t know anything about MtG before some research for the rp, but I hope I got everything down right. I took some liberties with the Archon species as there wasn’t much info on them available, but I hope I didn’t go overboard or contradict the canon or anything. I also made the assumption that Archons live longer than humans, so I put his age down accordingly.


        Spoiler:- Thayshia the Faerie:


    --

        Spoiler:- Rckaird the Archon:
    Last edited by GoldenHouou; 11th March 2012 at 7:11 AM.
    TumblrdeviantArt


    "So collect your scars and wear them well.
    Your blood's a good an ink as any.
    Go scratch your name into the clouds and pull them all... down."


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  21. #21
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    GoldenHouou: Thayshia is accepted. And Rckaird is Accepted...ish. The Shield of Kaldra and the Worldslayer are a both a bit of a no-no. Shield of Kaldra especially works in conjunction with the other 2 "Kaldra" artifacts and is exclusive to Mirrodin lore. The Worldslayer...kills everything, everywhere. Unless you had another idea for it and just wanted to use the name/image as an inspiration, so it would need a better description.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  22. #22
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    Ah, I was a bit leery with those two (the name Worldslayer kind of made me question whether it... literally really slayed worlds or something, but I figured it was just a fancy name for a fancy sword, and I did notice the other two Kaldra artifacts, but didn't realize they were a set.) I'll just take those out and don't use a card for his shield and sword, then, only description if that's okay. Will get to editing right away.

    EDIT: Done!
    Last edited by GoldenHouou; 11th March 2012 at 7:11 AM.
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    "So collect your scars and wear them well.
    Your blood's a good an ink as any.
    Go scratch your name into the clouds and pull them all... down."


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  23. #23
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    Yeah. I'll probably be bringing the Kaldra artifacts in at some point...minorly. And Worldslayer literally destroys everything in the game. Artifacts, creatures, lands, enchantments. Anything that's on the field at the same time, it kills.

    But yeah, everything's good now.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  24. #24
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    The RPG is up!

    We're arriving in Dominaria on the continent of Madra by the "Talon Gates", these two long protrusions of rock standing in the middle of the sea.

    "You can call yourself whatever you want.
    Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
    At our core we're all the same thing.
    Monsters."

  25. #25
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    Late entry!


    Name: Embodiment of Despair, Vernach
    Age: ~2000 years old (counting from the moment he manifested)
    Gender: Male. Though anatomically genderless unless he so chooses.
    Species: Demon
    Class: Shapeshifter Wizard
    Color(s): Blue, Black, Red
    Appearance: Being a born shapeshifter, he’s taken a number of different forms over the millenniums, but there are three particular forms he’s rather fond of using: a Human form, a purely Demonic form and one somewhat in between (the one he has taken to calling as his “normal” form.) As a human, Vernach resembles the planeswalker whose spark he’d usurped so long ago (it takes from Vernach’s sense of irony a man in his mid-twenties, well-built and handsome (most likely “slightly” more than the original) with sharp, defying eyes, but an overall casual, ordinary face, and silky raven colored hair. He usually takes this shape to play the role of underdog or innocent caught up in whatever events he’s trying to get involved with, changing the clothes he wears according to the situation.

    His “normal” form is by far his most common and the one he is most comfortable with. He chooses to appear like this to those who he is about to make a pact with, or to the very few who know him personally (and by him, he does not mean one of his personas.) The overall look of it is humanoid, to be sure, having the same number of appendages, external organs and all that jazz, but the similarities mostly end there. In this form, his skin has a hard, rocky texture and is crimson shaded, almost like it is perpetually coated in blood, with large, deep blue stains running through the surface. His shoulders are wide, and his arms, always exposed, are toned and muscled (redundancy hurray). His head seems to be caught midway through the transformation between human and demon: it bears the same rough skin texture as the rest of his body, yet is but the size of a normal human’s head. He often bears the same medium raven black hair his human form had, though he likes to switch between this and a random set of horns. Or both.
    The clothes Vernach wears in this form are a buckled suit entirely made of leather, dyed as dark as his own body but bearing a blood red shade, though he’s taking to adding a bit of blue to it for contrast. It is completely sleeveless, the top part being nothing more than a tight vest which reveals his shoulders and arms, and is stylized by… belts and buckles. A lot of them. The trousers are kept tight to the legs by a descending circle of belts with outer buckles, same as his vest .The whole look is completed by classical boots. Vernach believes it gives him a bit of class and does well to settle the whole “demon” thing he has going on, making him look more approachable and business like (while the naked arms and protruding horns serve as a reminder of who they are addressing.)

    His purely demonic form, though, loses all of the casualness and weak façades, trading those for a substantial amount of raw power. In this form, he becomes a titanic demon with leathery wings (each as wide as an Armodon,) ashen skin and massive horns. Thick, rock like plaques grow on his fists, feet and waist, made from alchemical adamantium (recipe stolen by the Dimir from the Izzet.) Not only does this make them impossible to penetrate, they also ensure nothing crushed beneath Vernach’s demonic fist will live to tell the tale. He wears little to nothing on this form, because, really… would you?


    Personality: A demon with an endless life is, above all, patient. The amount of raw power he’s accumulated through his long, long life also gave him a sense of god-like superiority; playing with “mortals” is a sport like any other, and one that even after all this time still amuses him. He is a trickster and a liar, to the point he could tell you the truth you want to know and still believe it’s a lie.

    Vernach seems to be permanently grinning. He is completely satisfied with his life, with his status and his power, and the complete ability to use and abuse his gifts, which he often does. Even though he draws sustenance from a person’s feelings and emotions, particularly despair and fear, he is perfectly capable of pleasing his huge ego simply by pummeling down a being several times taller than him. Taking down dragons and titanic monstrosities with nothing but his bare fists, for example, is a favorite of his. Even though he is a wizard at heart, he loves showing off his brutal demonic strength. If he is close to god-like perfection, he needs to be as physically strong as he is mystically powerful, after all. Or else it just wouldn’t do.

    Vernach loves planeswalking and exploring new places. An eternity of living naturally needs to constantly meet and see new things, particularly in the case of a power hungry demon. He overreaches the influence of his own personal empire to several planes, leaving behind the roots for great schemes that are often left cooking for centuries before he picks them up again.

    Socially, Vernach is more than inadequate. He outright mocks people and their attempts at futility. He simply enjoys being a sarcastic deadpanner, never letting go of his characteristic grin when he verbally crushes the feeble intelligence of those beneath him. It is another thing that gives him pleasure. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that if anything, anything at all, has a chance of amusing Vernach even slightly, he’ll do it. Unless his calculative mind tells him he benefits more from standing back and doing nothing, which he honestly rarely does. But initiating the spark of conflict then standing back and watching it escalate into all out war is definitely amusing. There is something poetic about the ever constant presence of chaos in the hearts of all.

    History: Warning: reading the Plane section first will make this section much less confusing. I advise you go read that part first, then come here.

    Vernach started as an accumulation of negative feelings: longing, weakness, paralyzing sadness and, most importantly, that which bound them all: despair. He had no form, no sentience, and most would say this was before he even achieved existence. In this fetus stage, he grew by absorbing negative feelings that coincided with those he was already made of and tempered this cluster of emotion by living independent memories of tragedies, be them romances, epic battles lost or the story of sad, unlucky man who’d lost all he ever loved. Over centuries he evolved, eventually gaining awareness, then sentience, then… a sense of self. A Demon was born. In the centuries between his “birth” and his manifestation on the physical world, he ventured the Sea of Memories for knowledge and experience. In the memories of the dead he learned of the living world, of magic, of politics and religion… By the time he was approached by a cult of Dreamers, he was already well-versed in all matters human and more than able to provide the knowledge and power the cultists sought.

    They approached him seeking all manner of things: knowledge, power… omniscience. They had fooled themselves into thinking a demon could grant them all of it by virtue of its nature as living magic alone. So, he fed of them. He fed as he nurtured those delusions; first simply nibbling their desires and hidden emotions, then delving into distant memories and absorbing their emotional value. His parasitism only ended when he physically devoured the flesh of his followers, which ended up fully cementing his physical form and ending all existential instabilities he’d been suffering. Finally able to venture out of the cave his follower’s had built him, he extended his influence over all of Aria. Two decades after he’d already travelled and feasted on all the corners of Aria, his powers greater than they ever were. Yet, he grew bored. He felt he was beginning to run out of new things and experiences to do after but twenty years of living – a thought that would terrify anyone with the potential for immortality. This world had already given him nearly everything… but he craved more. He knew his current self was but a fraction of what he could be, and he craved more.

    It was then that he met a traveler: a young mage with a distinct smell. Everything about him was mysterious: his very essence was foreign, his accent, his mannerisms were unlike those of the people he’d met until then, he weaved unknown magics and he spoke of things Vernach could only dream of. It was like Vernach became infatuated with this human, or rather, by what the human represented. Something new. Something different. He wanted it. His life experience, his new magics, his knowledge… He wanted it all!

    So they fought in a bloody battle that pushed Vernach farther than he’d ever been pushed. He used every single trick in his arsenal, and not even his blue counter magic, his black death magic and his demonic strength were enough. Finally, after both knew they had exhausted the other, Vernach felt a pull in the world’s very fabric. The other mage was a Planeswalker, and though pride had ordered him to stay, the danger his life was in finally urged him to escape. To ‘walk – to JUMP – somewhere far far away and rest. Vernach knew not what planeswalking was, but he could tell the man was running, and he couldn’t condone that. He summoned all of his remaining magic, he pulled all the mana from the forest, the swampy lake and the very air and shot himself at the mage. Not a second after and Vernach was on top of him, pinning the human down on the ground. And he feasted again. He feasted on his flesh. He feasted on his memories. He feasted on his power. With his mouth he absorbed the physical aspect of the man, and with a swirling black energy he consumed the magic, the spiritual, and the mental. He’d never dined on someone to this extent. Every fiber of his being – everything that man had been and could ever be – was transferred to Vernach. Even the spark.

    Bearing the memories of the ‘walker, he knew exactly what he now was, and what was just opened to him. Infinity. He immediately jumped to a new plane and began his millennia long quest for exploration and power.

    A few centuries passed before he arrived on Ravnica, where he quickly became affiliated with the Dimir, where his powers as a shapeshifter, mind-manipulating teleporting Planeswalker shone. As the years passed, Vernach went from being just another agent, to being the head of the Moroi squad and eventually to a being of such power in the guild he rivaled the necromages. It was this guild that honed his abilities as a long term planer and manipulator capable of orchestrating thousands of people to believe – and create – a whole new reality, sometimes without even the need for memory manipulation or illusions (something he became an expert at.)

    However, the tightly controlled structure of the entire guild, its secrecy and its code of conduct meant Vernach rarely had a chance to unleash his full power in an all out bloodbath/massacre of many. That pleasure, that feeling of almost sexual release (perhaps the closest thing a demon could feel to it) was only ever found amidst the Rakdos. Vernach never really became a part of this guild, but, being a demon, he was more than welcomed at their sacramental bloodbaths. He made sure to constantly shapeshift and to always create a new alias when dealing with the Rakdos, but the sort of carnage he witnessed – as well as the carnage he unleashed – taught him a type of direct confrontational magic he would never learn from the Dimir. His Black and Red magic grew the most here, and this was where he learnt that raw power was as much of a threat as centuries worth of manipulation.

    Vernach was living his dream. His power and influence extended far beyond a single world, and his knowledge exceeded that of entire planes put together. He truly felt like one of the most powerful creatures in the multiverse, and for the first time in his long life he achieved satisfaction.

    All of it was destroyed by the Mending. The phenomenom that changed the very face of the multiverse and altered the laws for planeswalkers affected him far more than it did any other Planeswalker. When his spark changed its very properties, it was temporarily disconnected from Vernach’s very being. The wave of power Vernach unleashed during this experience – the excess power that his spark would no longer hold – ripped him apart. It reverberated right back across time and space and found the one truth: Vernach was a being of memories and intangibility. A simple error in the universe’s logic born from the chaos of an infinity of rebirth’s and the haste needed to fix the bugs in reality caused Vernach to remember his status as a being made from coalesced memories, only capable of attaining physical form by stealing the very flesh of others. Vernach saw all of the power and knowledge he had physically escape his body, and in no time felt his own body cease to exist. His essence, now an innumerable amount of shards of his former existence, was split apart infinitely. The shift in reality itself made one tuing clear: he was not real, and that reminder nearly ended up erasing him. For a moment, Vernach was unsure if he even existed.

    It took all his might to reassemble himself. This time, he didn’t use the Planeswalker spark as the glue that held all of his pieces together. He became one with it. He returned to life weaker than he’d felt in centuries, a shadow of his former self. If he ever appeared like this in front of the Dimir, he’d be killed for his weakness; a loose end no longer capable of keeping the secrets that were the very core of the guild. So he ran, once again embarking on a journey to grow stronger. He visited many places, from Mirrodin to Shadowmoor, and learned many new magics as well as recuperated most of his old powers. His position in the Dimir was secure even when he spent decades missing: his subordinates were orderly little sheep and his duties were being carried out diligently. After all, it was not unusual for a Dimir head to spend decades – even centuries – without giving so much as a sign of being alive yet still getting his work done. Heck, such a thing was expected of them. Vernach had already learned how to do that from a distance; he’d never stopped planeswalking even when he set up semi-permanent stay in Ravnica.

    Now, Vernach once again seeks to grow powerful, his thirst only growing bigger after he was stripped of everything he’d earned. With a cunning mind and the knowledge of 2000 years travelling the Blind Eternities, there is little this Archdemon can’t achieve.

    Abilities: Vernach’s powers fall to rather large categories: his blue spells (for deceit, trickery and mind manipulation,) his black spells (used in combat and more… particular occasions), his red spells (for pure chaos and destruction whenever it was needed) and his multicolor spells (used to affect space, the aether, to rot minds and counter magic, in the case of black and blue, for example.)

    From blue mana he extracts the ability to shapeshift, to intrude another’s mind (and manipulate it) and the ability to hide his presence; most of these skills, if not all of them, were gained under the watchful care of the Dimir. This explains why, aside from the ability to shapeshift his body into weapons, forming a blade on his arm or adding the occasional extra limb, these techniques rarely influence the flow of battle. No, for when the need to show his true power arises, he prefers to fall back to the energy-stealing, power-granting, life-taking, debilitating, gore-loving wonder of black mana.
    Vernach uses black mana to wither away his opponents strength and feed his own. While he is more than capable of rending you inside out with a surge of black energy, or to simply destroy you with a single spell, he much prefers to see you struggle and slowly let your despair grow. He gorges on this feeling, and is overjoyed by the broken will of the foolish hero who collapses after every single spell he knew left but a scratch on him. He loves toying with his enemies from the start.

    But Vernach can do yet more: he can fuse these two schools to weaken enemy spells with deadly efficiency, or he can instead manipulate the very fabric of space using blue mana, and weaken its very structure with black mana, granting him the capacity to “teleport” between the special soft spots he created. And, last but not least, should he ever find himself in some bizarre event where he is so outnumbered his powers alone cannot ensure victory, his will to succeed will coalesce into a devil: a manifestation of a demon’s emotions, and empower him with the strength and numbers he needs.

    He truthfully can’t very well fuse the blue and red spells, since he does not have that close acquantaince with madness and genious that the Izzet have. He can combine red and black magic for a single spell combining the destructive aspecst the black and red schools have individually, but the effects aren’t as diverse or unique as the combination of black and blue.

    Equipment: Presently, none of relevance.


    Plane From (w/description): Arkhos, the Twilight Plane.

    Arkhos is a plane perpetually covered in the time between dawn and dusk, where the sun is still setting but night has already come. It does have mornings and proper nights, but due to its very nature, these are either illusions or just a few hours long. However dark this may seem, this does make the plane as a whole eerily beautiful, especially when coupled with the reflective lakes and rivers that run through the continent of Aria. Lingering mist hovering over the surface of the water is a common sight, as are lake side villages, umbral forests and ominous, ever distant mountains. This plane is a romantic’s paradise, but not just due to the scenic beauty.

    In Arkhos, the division between dream and reality is thin at best. The plane’s residents live in perpetual doubt of just who they are and what is real, and many find themselves living double lives without knowing when exactly are they awake. Many are knowingly insane, others use the dreams to further their own desires, while some are barely affected. Memories become fickle things and become nearly impossible to hold on to on a world where continuity and perception are luxuries. Many memories are lost to the tides of time, the strongest ones lingering and affecting the real world, trapping those it catches to re-live them, or manifesting as dangerous spirits of mourning, perpetually trapped in the emotion of the memory they were born from. A cautionary tale, if there ever was one.

    The abundance of mana, particularly blue and black mana, in conjunction with the tangible property of the mind, dreams and memory have caused many a wild creature to prefer feasting on esoteric matter. Midnight hauntings in Arkhos don’t involve demonic possession or death, but the intrusion of the mind. Spirits and creatures feed off dreams and nightmares, and dine on your finest memories. The more meaningful and emotional it is, the tastier. Particularly intelligent creatures, namely demons and somnomancers (sleep wizards), are not content with this, and manipulate the dreams of their prey in a manner as to engineer a memory of their preference by having them live through a false life the sleeper’s manipulator created.

    In Arkhos, where life is a journey filled with deceit and uncertainty, death is something all too often welcomed. Generally referred to as the “enlightenment,” it is compared to the opening of one’s eyes, and other senses, to finally see the truth the mists had kept hidden from them. However, truth is meaningless if it uncovers no lies. This, to most Arkhonites, means that, though welcomed, death is nothing sought too soon and should come only after a long, passionate life. This is the creed that most churches follow. It translates to everyday life as the arkhonites’ love for eventful lives, for mystery and for tragic romances. Arkhon’s art is filled with bittersweet literature, dark paintings and tragic epics, and the architecture is heavily sober and imposing; a traditional gothic.

    Aria’s lands are divided in independent territories functioning as city states. The majority of the population sees itself as one nation, but political conflict is a given occurrence. There are rarely any wars, though, so conflict is usually nothing more than a purposely engineered chance for a strong political debate devoid of any real threats. Due to this, most states’ armies are kept as border guards, patrolmen, forest rangers or exorcists. Their hands are usually full even with no wars, though.

    Army man and soldiers are, unlike most other plans, rarely masters of the sword or of combat, but usually skilled mages able to perceive the veil between reality and the dream world and strengthen the wall that keeps them separate. Their combat training comes out of a demand to slaughter wild beasts, but given the fact that even these have evolved and adapted the ability to commute with the dream world, no scouting party feels safe without a handful of somnomancers backing them.

    But what, exactly, is the dream world?
    You will never have an answer for this question. The dream world is form-less and intangible by its very nature. What it is and isn’t depends upon the perception of the one who experiences it. Even its purpose and existence is unanswered, though there are many a legend. The only thing known of it is that it seems to be affected by the beings dragged into it, as well as the time that they spend there. It is speculated (and all but confirmed) that this is where Angels and Demons are born, when a cluster of positive/negative emotions congregates, coalesces and is given form by a third party’s perception. The energies the very existence of this realm generates often seep into the real world, mixing reality with dreams, causing wild mutations and eldritch abominations. Often, the changes created by the merging of both realms in a particular area are only temporary, but, sometimes, there comes a time when a being half real half dream gets caught in the real world and is trapped in a horrific form alien to nature; they call these creatures Nightmares (for the record, they are all horror type, multicolored creatures, either white (dreams) or black (proper nightmares)). These are the single most dangerous reason for the need of Somnomancers in all armies and patrols, and why the academies in Aria specialize in sleep magic (which, just like Spirit Magic is unique in kamigawa, sleep magic is unique in Arkhos, differeing much from the somnomancy of, say, the kithkin.) This is also why the alchemy of Arkhos does not specialize in healing, the making of poisons or compulsive magic research (or, Gods forbid, whatever cruel word describes the horrors of Innistrad’s alchemy,) but for the making and selling of exorcising dusts, sleep regulating potions and reality stabilizing charms (or, for those looking to reach the dream world, the means to more easily traverse the bindery - drugs.)

    But, just as most villagers have learned of the existence of two worlds and come to embrace the physical world as the real world, there are those that prefer the metaphysical world of dreams. The reasons for this are many: some are simply insane fools infatuated with the idea of an unstable, ever changing place that accommodates to the visitor’s wishes, other’s wish to brave the Sea of Memories in search of lost lore and magic; a good deal simply wish to understand the place in order to harness its reality bending powers, and form cults dedicated to its study. Though each cult has their name and identity, their cultists are generally referred to as “Dreamers;” the connotation being negative or positive varies from area to area depending on the characteristics of that area’s main cults. These cults are not necessarily evil or benevolent; most are neutral, simply wishing knowledge/power due to greed or unquenchable curiosity and spend their whole lives in a futile search of it, while other cults have developed morals and goals according to their research on the dream world. In their delving of the surreal, many cults come across angels and demons and are forever changed by the event. The encounter with an angel, for example, often comes before the rising of a mad men turned prophet preaching a new religion, or a new facet thereof. Coincidentally, the meeting with a demon sometimes generates the same, but much more often end up with the cult accidentally (or not) bringing the demon into the real world permanently, at which point it becomes their figure head. Unknown to the cult, the demon will simply manipulate its followers with promises of power, eternal life and knowledge (or what have you), feeding off them until it’s strong enough to kill them and walk unbound through the four corners of Arkhos.

    The “total” presence of an angel in the physical world is rare –the very nobility that births an angel makes them against embracing false mortality by simplifying their existence to a physical realm- but occasional sightings or appearances do occur. Most of the time, an angel born of a noble soldier’s will to defend will surge from dreams to strike down a Nightmare attacking an innocent woman, only to dive back into dreams again. The few angels that do cross over and become trapped in the physical world either die (the church and some academies state this is due to the original dream/will that formed it being too weak to survive real world issues; ie, empty idealism,) become absent heroes/vigilantes, or prominent political/religious figureheads.

    The mediator of city states is one such angel. Dubbed an “Archangel,” the prefix given to other worldly creatures that manage to survive in the physical world for more than 1000 years (yes, this makes Vernach and Archdemon in Arkhon,) the angel Lythia presides over more stressful or sensitive gatherings of the state leaders, and serves as a tiebreaker and continent wide political advisor. When the whole continent looks to a definite political leader, they look to Lythia.

    Her counterpart is the Archangel Luminia, the religious leader. This is the only archangel in known history that remains freed of boundaries, and can reside in either realm for as long as she chooses. Unlike Lythia, who does not have any qualms on speaking her mind, Luminia has remained silent throughout most of her existence, and what little words she speaks are considered once-in-a-lifetime blessings to those who hear them. Lythia does not have a set place to stay, and her location is generally unknown, though the church affirms she can be reached through pure prayer, if one is worthy. True or not, most archbishops can call her out (most chose not to disturb the closest thing they have to a God, though,) but a good deal of souls are visited by lesser angels after prayer (referred to as Luminia’s Angels, or Listeners.) Lumina’s religion has an interesting twist to it: the truths must be sought by the followers. Luminia has never preached nor written a book of laws. Instead, she is approached with a book of a self-entitled prophet, which she then approves or denies. This means that the church of Luminia is interestingly devoid of Holy Books, and as such do not offer much in the way of morals. Instead, this church is seen as a means of holy protection from Nightmares, a place of study for holy magic and wards, and a sanctuary to maintain the boundaries between real and unreal steady.

    It is said Luminia and Lythia are the reincarnations of an old King, the one who united Aria and spread cultural understanding throughout the land, making it not only one country, but one single “Nation” as well, other’s settle with calling them simple beings born from his influence.

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