[Exalted 2nd edition] Heroes of Whitewall continued

Okay, so, after talking with people on TeamSpeak today we're pretty much filled up. So far it's Karsikan and ResourceHog for the last spot.


Current roster stands as:


Melissia - sorceress, crafter, Twilight


Unbridled Originality - singer, celebrity, night


Sardonian - prophet, leader of men, zenith


Random Word - negotiates with monsters, eclipse


If anyone drops I'll keep in mind people who posted here.
 
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I am also too new for private messages. Not a bad thing, really, since I'd like to confer with Random Word about a possibility he inspired.


The concept is one of those slaves Mellifluous Muse freed, a blacksmith by trade. While the guildsman freed the slaves, he was canny enough to let the closest cities of the Deshan know where. Pressure from jackals soon drove them back into the Fell. Showing a strategic side never given opportunity to shine, before, the blacksmith, Scarface, organized the scattered lot in building crude fortifications and preparing to repel attacks. When more daring slavecatchers came for them, and died at their rocks and clubs and traps, he repaired the weapons and armor as well as he could, under the circumstances. He fought, because they all did. and learned to bring the strength of his forging to less creative ends. And he mourned, where his companions hated, because the jackals, too, were seeking their freedom.


A very different man walked out onto the road to Ondar Shambal than the one who had been chased in. His bearing was harder, warier, and infinitely more confident. His companions followed him, now, almost unthinkingly, despite his insistence that their praise was aimed too low. His arms were shoddy, moreso than the rest, but his comfort bearing them supreme. But his easy chatter was gone. The man who was chased into the forest was jolly and indulgent, and particularly fond of his drug rations. This new man, the one who shone brightly enough to hold back the night, in a shadowland, was quieter, more thoughtful, almost somber. When a patrol from Whitewall found them and sent for an escort back to the city, the stories his people told of the trials of their journey were contradictory and generally impossible. He keeps silent about that period still.


Motivation: End the practice of slavery. This is terribly trite, and that's intentional; his viewpoint is pretty limited, at this point, and he's likely to radicalize further from here. Basically, he's on an arc to Anarchist Paladin.


His followers are generally without real skills except the ones he's taught them, since being exalted. His gifts really don't like in teaching, though, so they're mostly just farmers with a little self-defense and leatherworking skill. This is what you get when you keep a population drugged on opiates all the time.


His Virtue Flaw is a clear Red Rage of Compassion. I can't imagine anything better for him.


I'm thinking about some kind of vow of poverty. Never above Resources 1, and no Artifacts. He'd use ordinary smithing tools in combat, mostly, and call in the solar panoply charms in a real pinch. Still goes by "Scarface", since his face is still covered in burn marks from his early training. Basically a gentle giant, if a touch mopey. He still prefers to think of himself as a blacksmith on a mission from above, rather than any sort of warrior or leader, but results speak for themselves. His cult frustrates him, because he feels it's improper to worship him instead of TUS himself, but he felt so much worse for days after the last time he forbade them (I imagine him blowing through a lot of willpower; he'd feel much less stressed with their support.) that he broke resolve and let himself be talked down to just keeping it where he doesn't see it.


So if it isn't too late, I'd like to possibly fill that gap around the Tank archetype missing from your list thus far.
 
[QUOTE="Shining Lotus Sage]I am also too new for private messages. Not a bad thing, really, since I'd like to confer with Random Word about a possibility he inspired.

[/QUOTE]
This is amusingly appropriate, since this is the current draft of my history:

Ledaal Suhi never met her mother, though Ledaal Furiko, her older sister, would often tell her stories when they sat alone in the cool shade of their private garden in Serrat. Father became alternatively irate and despondent at the mention of Mother, a brave and beautiful warrior of the barbarian Ice Walker tribes, and Regara Xina, the mother of her two younger sisters, would become furious. Growing up with an abusive stepmother taught her the skills necessary to redirect Xina’s wrath to those around her, especially when she was drunk, while growing up a free woman surrounded by slaves taught her that human life had no intrinsic value. She was continuously reminded that she could never trust the wretched huddled masses, and that they may turn on her without warning. The only slaves she ever truly came to like were her tutors, especially Old Scholar Moto who taught her linguistics and calligraphy. She learned to manipulate the household slaves to ensure he was always better provisioned with food and the fine hashish he favoured when relaxing, and always had fine paper and ink to work with. Suhi preferred the refined arts of the bow and the brush. Furiko was brave and lusted for adventure, preferring the spear, sword, and the tenets of war. Her younger sister Sokanu loved history and old scrolls of magic and spirits, and the youngest Katou was never so happy as with a fresh canvas or her harp.


The relative peace of her childhood came to an abrupt end when Father’s enemies made their move. Using a slave revolt as cover they stormed the estate in the night. Suhi never truly understood what it was her father did, nor why he had been in the North and met Mother, only that it had involved old musty artefacts Furiko thought were important. She had little time to ponder this as the servants bundled her sisters up and led them to a concealed passageway, giving them one last message from Father: “Get as far away as possible and hide. Do not come looking for me. I love you all very much.” Furiko led the way, as always, and they fled deep into the woods. They lost Katou, the youngest, to Jackals that night. Her screams still haunt Suhi’s dreams. Suhi’s skill with the bow and Furiko’s with the spear proved unexpected to hunters used to untrained slaves. Still, only by the slimmest of margins and the blessings of fate did the rest escape capture, fleeing further north over the next few days into Marama’s fell where no Jackal would dare pursue them. For good reason. Suhi had no name for the beast which took Sokanu, but it still stalks her in her nightmares, and she is still just as helpless to stop it. Suhi was only spared by the timely intervention of a stranger she can’t recall, though the entire event has the distant quality of a fading dream even in her memories.


Exhausted and terrified the remaining sisters made it to the Traveler’s Road, Furiko set upon finding their mother and training together to acquire the skills to seek their vengeance. Suhi was in shock and stumbled along behind her for days until they reached Whitewall where she collapsed and lay silently in bed for days, weeping sporadically. She could go no further and Furiko, disgusted with her weakness, took what supplies she could purchase with the jade she had and set off into the wilderness alone.


Suhi recovered eventually and cast off her name to start a new life. Her skill with languages and calligraphy soon saw her in assigned to Whitewall’s civil service, apprenticed to negotiators drafting contracts with the Guild, Realm, and the nearby Icewalker tribes. Suhi always kept an eye out for Furiko but never saw her. Similarly, her inquiries for news of Katou’s fate from trade caravans never resulted in so much as a rumour until one day she learned a young woman matching her description was being shipped north in a Guild caravan for trade to the Fair Folk. Her feeling of helplessness as Katou was taken away still fresh in her mind she used every favour at her disposal to find out where and when this shipment would arrive and intercepted it.
 
here's the char sheet. It won't let me upload in the pm for some reason.<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2013_12/57a8bfe1a3540_CrystalPrior_pdf.fa8c360b15c65c968e0814442b8ae51f" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="24482" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2013_12/57a8bfe1a3540_CrystalPrior_pdf.fa8c360b15c65c968e0814442b8ae51f" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Crystal Prior.pdf
 

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Just so everyone knows I've got a full group at the moment, if I passed over anyone I'll try to keep you in mind should we have anyone drop
 
Canned the last character in a sense, Kept his spirit but no stats.


Raeghar, son of Ulfghar.


Raeghar was cursed with prophecy from birth, with no priest or shaman to guide him. His early childhood was a literal living nightmare, with powerful visions rendering him catatonic for days. At the age of nine he decided he'd had enough, and took a blade to his eyes in the hopes of stopping the visions. The instant the blade destroied his left eye, he found the visions pushed themselves into the vision of his ruined left eye. Given a small measure of control at the cost of an eye, Raeghar set out on a personal quest to understand his visions. Seeking out every shaman and priest he could find, until he found himself in the city of whitewall. Where visions he had seen before came back to his left eye.


Motivation: to decipher the visions that tormented his childhood.
 
Melissia said:
Everyone ready for tonight's game?
If you are still looking for more players, now that Looking for Group and Submissions are not competing any more in terms of alerts, you can recreate this again, to poke the site again about it.
 
Another week, another chance for the ST to horribly and brutally murder us. Hope to see you guys on!


Unbridled won't be on today though, but I think he already told Ithle that.
 
So, I can't PM yet because I haven't hit 10 posts... but in the LFP forums I was pointed this way. Specifically to Melissa or Ithle. Are there open player slots for this game?
 
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