Ebon_Arbiter
Grand Abolisher
An independant Abyssal, as per the procedure described by the InkMonkeys (Ink Monkeys Ultimate Collection PDF pg. 42-44 http://forums.white-wolf.com/default.aspx?g=posts&m=527374) and specifically adhering to the concept-archetype of the "Speaker for the Dead" albeit with a pilgrim twist in it.
Speaker of the Dead archetype quoted exactly from the Ink Monkeys (many thanks for the inspiration guys
).
Speaker of the Dead archetype quoted exactly from the Ink Monkeys (many thanks for the inspiration guys
).He lives in a cave high on the mountain, overlooking the shadowland. One day every week he meditates in the graveyard, watching the living venerate the dead. Those whose offerings are meager he investigates. If he finds them misers, he makes them into the paupers their offerings suggest them to be. If they are too poor to properly venerate their ancestors, he helps increase their fortunes in the world as best he can. When Immaculate monks came to ward shut the shadowland with prayers and salt and road-shrines to greedy gods, he scattered them with his fists. When he found a child wandering lost on the north road, he led her home. When an agent of the Deathlords arrived, preaching the doctrine of Oblivion, he sent that man to experience his black apotheosis firsthand. He walks among the dead by night, settling disputes among households top-heavy with elders. He distills the wisdom of the ancestors into words that ring true to those too young or alive to heed those who came before. He punishes those ghosts that grow fat on worship without guiding or assisting the living. He wears a mask of beautiful ivory and robes of the finest silk. No one has ever seen his face. Maggots writhe in his footprints.
He speaks for the dead. Pity those who will not listen.
A man who was betrayed and used by the cunning and ruthless agents of the Realm barely escaping with his life, only to end up in slavery and pit fights where he saw his friends die before him in the hands of a cruel dynast, before death's cold whisper offered him a chance to set things right and become its immortal champion. Accepting the offer, he rose up and slayed his tormentor and then ran away. As days would pass, the changes on his body soul began to be obvious to him and he sought help.
Fortunately, or perhaps fatefully, he found refuge to a secluded and almost extinct monastic order, near a shadowland, where the elders of the monastery provided him with guidance regarding certain aspects of his altered nature and taught him a secret and vicious martial arts style, which explored the obscure nature of the creatures of the Underworld and drew upon their strenghts, a terrible martial discipline called "Hungry Ghost style". After years of teaching and gruelling practice, he was instructed by the elders to wander Creation, even while enduring its rejection of himself, in a quest of personal accomplishment and enlightment as well as in an effort to promote and restore the ancestral worship to the areas in which he'd travel.
Dressed up in deathly trappings, resembling a mourning itinerant monk, with shaven head, a mask of death covering his face and a wide brimmed straw hat over his head, satchel hanging from his shoulder and the iron will to succeed and in a Creation hostile to him, he began his travels, guided by instict and the strange whispers of beings he perceives - thus far - to be certain especially powerful ancestors. His travels brought him to Nexus, where he saw a first hand opportunity to test his martial mettle against other stylists and refine his own martial discipline through the anvil of tribulation.
Additional background, describing his life until his exaltation.
Ishiro grew up in Cherak. Son of a family from House Ferem he witnessed firsthand the politics surrounding it and learn his way in the noble courts of the House and later of the Realm. His natural aptitude in this field, led him to the position of Diplomat and soon he was traveling, exploring and negotiating for the profit of his city and House. During this time, he saw how other people viewed the dragon blooded and their kingdom and also what was really happening in many cases behind the niceties and pompous declarations of the Dynasts.
He was displeased as well for being treated as a second class citizen in the Realm and was never quite sure why he had to obey someone merely by virtue of the elemental power they manifested (as he still says from time to time, "exaltation is not a proven cure for idiocy and many other negative traits"). This displeasure was well hidden but slowly eating at him from the inside.
Then, one fateful week the unthinkable happened and his course in life changed forever. He was participating in a diplomatic mission to tribes of the northern regions in order to secure their aid versus the Bull of the North's expanding tendencies and promote his House interests by forging agreements for new trade routes and acquiring trading rites for the region.In truth though the purpose of this mission was different, unknown to young and idealist Ishiro, who saw himself as a uniter of people and cultures for common interest and as a soother of disputes (he did that since his childhood even among his, less talkative and more prone to rush action, friends, as he recalls).
The mission was to be accompanied by a small military detachment as an honour guard, but this was only for distraction. The soldiers accompanying them were elite commandos of the Realm, set on eliminating the threat posed by this place. As the strategists of the Realm had decreed the place was to be destroyed and used as a forward operations camp.
But since the needed force to overcome its defences was not possible to be diverted at that time and they had to move fast, they chose deceit and trickery over honesty and bravery.
The negotiations went well and Ishiro was proud of himself. He had even managed to get acquainted with a few dignitaries from the other side and envisioned this mission as great potential for his career. Then, at night, when the settlement was quite and all were asleep the soldiers struck fast, hard and mercilessly.
Ishiro - the clever youth he was by the time - suspected something and before the incursion overheard their officer giving the orders for the massacre. He stepped in, confronting him and threatening to alert the guards and avert his plans but the dragon blooded officer exerted such mental pressure over him, blackmailing him and more that he couldn't resist. He sat helpless and broken as the soldiers murdered every living creature in the settlement and his soul was full of grief for this and for himself. He felt useless, powerless and cursed himself for being a coward and not daring to stand up and defend those people he had signed pacts with. The cold weighed heavy upon him and began his arduous trekk to a place of relative safety, a place away from those dynasts, who would have his life at a moment's notice...
A few years passed and Ishiro managed to do well, despite the hardships he was forced into. Agreeing to surrender for gladiatorial training in exchange for food and a place to stay, as well as to get some combat skills for an imaginary payback to those ruthless dynasts, he became - gradually - an acknowledged gladiator and his name was regarded with respect by his peers and cheering by the crowd. But this was not to last. He was slowly growing weary of this life and was secretly afraid that his days would end by some younger fighter in the bloodstained sand of an arena and what's more he wasn't fond of dying without breathing the invigorating air of freedom once more.
The chance presented itself in the days before a grand tournament. It seemed that some of the slaves had displeased their masters by the time and also that some important dignitaries from the Realm would be also attending. Rumour had it that among their ranks was a renowned Dragon blooded martial artist, against whom -most said- even the greatest gladiators didn't stand a chance. And this particular one, maybe out of sadistic tendencies maybe out of excessive pride, had decided to make a show of force and teach "the impudent people of the Threshold" a lesson in martial discipline and pain.
The festival that was organised in their honour was grand and the games in the arena were the crown jewel to it.
Various martial artists, wealthy merchants, nobles and government officials were present along with hundrends of spectators.
After a few exhibition performances from various stlylists that have traveled there for the tournament, and a few more or less friendly sparring matches to warm up the crowd, the real and awaited spectacle-or shall we say butchery-began. The gates of the arena opened and a group of 5 gladiators stepped out, hesitantly, awaiting to see what would come to face them.
Then from the honoured guests' seats, a figure, moving faster than the eye, descended on the arena floor.
A young man - as he was looking - stepped forth and with graceful and fluid motions stood ready. His face was impassive, save for a small smirk, indicating what was about to follow. The-so called-fight began and Ishiro could do nothing more but watch, like a lion behind the iron bars of the arena's gates. Most of the gladiators' blows failed to even touch the arrogant dragon blooded. He seemed to flow through their attacks and defences and even the few hits that actually stroke him, seemed to do nothing more than a pebble would do by falling to the surface of a lake. Then one by one, he began to grapple and strangle them, break their bones and sent them sprawling to the ground with agonizing screams.
When he couldn't stand watching any more, he assaulted the arena guards himself, opening the doors and running, blind from anger and rage into the fighting pit. He knew that the dynast possessed unearthly skill in martial arts but he could not think rationally at that time. His fury was such that he manage to hit him - if only once - before the jaded dragonblooded turned and proceeded to crash every bone in his body with methodic efficiency. In those agonizing moments, when sheer cruelty reduced him almost to nothingness and the chilling grasp of the grave felt closer than ever, Ishiro heard a voice, like a cold faint whisper. A voice urging him to take his offer. A voice coming from the mouth of death itself. And it was then, on that fatefull day, at that distant and bloodied arena, that Ishiro shed his mortal existance forever and become a champion of Death.
Appearance
He looks (as indicated in the picture below) like Death in Darksiders 2, albeit without any of his weapons (scythe etc) but only with a pair of razor claws, stylized like sharp skeletal fingers. He is also wearing a soulsteel hearthstone amulet on his neck and a black cloak and straw hat, especially while travelling. A leather satchel can also be seen hanging diagonally from his shoulder and the imagery of death is evident in all his attire.
Character Sheet
Name Ishiro the Ebon Ghost / "Obsidian Harbinger of Silence"
Exalt Type and Caste Abyssal Midnight caste
Anima A spectral figure arises behind Ishiro, taking the shape of a Barrow King as the anima reaches iconic levels, with his obsidian crown etched with the Old Realm characters for "silence".
Motivation End injustice in Creation.
Attributes
Physical
Strength ●●●
Dexterity ●●●●●
Stamina ●●●
Social
Charisma ●●●●
Manipulation ●●●
Appearance ●●
Mental
Perception ●●
Intelligence ●●
Wits ●●●
Abilities
Archery
[F]Martial Arts ●●●●●
Melee
Thrown
War
[C]Integrity ●●●●
[C]Performance ●●●
[C]Presence ●●
[C]Resistance ●●
[C]Survival ●●●
Craft
Investigate
Lore ●
Medicine
[F]Occult ● [Ghosts +1]
[F]Athletics ● [Maintain balance +1]
[F]Awareness â●●
[F]Dodge ●●●●● [unarmored +2]
Larceny
Stealth
Bureaucracy
Linguistics ● [skytongue (native), Riverspeak]
Ride
Sail
Socialize
Backgrounds
Artifact ●● [soulsteel Razor Claws: Gifted to Ishiro by the elder Abbot of the secluded monastery where he studied the esoteric arts of essence manipulation, the martial arts style of Hungry Ghost and the ability to reduce the dire consequences and impact his altered nature brought to him and Creation. They are exquisite weapons, their very appearance memsmerizing to look at, carved to perfection, sharp beyond the chilling cold of the grave, with engravings and patterns aking to moaning souls trapped inside a priceless material. When attuned they seem to be covered in an icy aura of cold, that leeches the very essence out of those unfortunate enough to feel their chilling caress].
Artifact ●● [silken Armor]
Artifact ● [soulsteel Hearthstone Amulet: "Amulet of Souls" Retrieved by Ishiro inside a locked chest, situated in the Shadowland near the monastery he was training, as one of the final tests the elder monks put him through].
Mentor ● [Takeno, the mysterious elder and Abbot of the secluded monastic order that took Ishiro in during the time he was hunted by the Realm and taught him how to harness his altered nature and how to utilized his newfound capabilities, through the teachings of Hungry Ghost style, as well as other esoteric techniques. A remote and distant figure, who nevertheless played a crucial role in Ishiro's life. Ishiro still pays him a visit from time to time, to gain additional insight and benefit from his wisdom].
Manse ● [A small, beautifully crafted pagoda on the hills, somewhere near Sijan. Produces: Memorial Iron Hearthstone]
Whispers ●●[The semi-coherent rumblings of the Neverborn, dead Titans of ages past, that find their way to Ishiro's mind, who perceives them as incredibly old, powerful, embittered and vengeful ancestor spirits that attempt to guide him in his (un)life as champion of Death].
Merits
Flaws
Artifacts and Equipment
Soulsteel Razor claws "Icy Talons"
Sp. 5 Acc. 16 Dmg. 8L Def. +2 R. 3 Att. 6m Tags M [Drain 3 motes per wounding hit].
Silken Armor
Soak: +5L/3B Att.2 Fat. 0 Mob.pen. -1 [when not attuned]
Soulsteel Hearthstone Amulet
"Amulet of Souls"
Charms
Martial Arts
Hungry Ghost style
Blood Scenting Hunger
Leaping Horror Approach
Shrouded Claw Attack
Lunging Phantom Method
Hungry Ghost Form
Integrity
2nd Integrity Excellency
Faithful Killer's Reprieve
Performance
Morbid Fascination Style
Presence
1st Presence excellency
Survival
Maelstrom-Weathering Indifference
Dodge
Flitting Shadow Form
Flickering Wisp Technique [Temperance Flaw of Invulnerability]
Linguistics
Scathing Cynic Attitude
Join Combat: 5
Defenses
Dodge DV 8
Parry DV 6
Soak: 6B/6L [9B/8L when Hungry Ghost form is active]
Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
-X [ ]
Mental Defenses
Dodge MDV 7
Parry MDV 4
Virtues
Compassion ●
Conviction ●●●
Temperance ●●●
Valor ●●
Flawed Virtue Compassion
Intimacies
Injustice [fierce opposition]
Ancestral Worship [devotion]
Cold breeze [refreshment]
Hungry Ghost style [aspiration to master fully]
Martial Arts [internal fullfillment]
The Realm [opposition]
Dynasts [hatred]
Immaculate Order [scorn]
Willpower: 7
Essence
Permanent: ●●●
Personal: 16/16 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 28/37 (9 Committed)
Bonus Points (18)
Essence 2 to 3 (7)
Willpower 5 to 7 (2)
3 favoured charms (9)
He speaks for the dead. Pity those who will not listen.
A man who was betrayed and used by the cunning and ruthless agents of the Realm barely escaping with his life, only to end up in slavery and pit fights where he saw his friends die before him in the hands of a cruel dynast, before death's cold whisper offered him a chance to set things right and become its immortal champion. Accepting the offer, he rose up and slayed his tormentor and then ran away. As days would pass, the changes on his body soul began to be obvious to him and he sought help.
Fortunately, or perhaps fatefully, he found refuge to a secluded and almost extinct monastic order, near a shadowland, where the elders of the monastery provided him with guidance regarding certain aspects of his altered nature and taught him a secret and vicious martial arts style, which explored the obscure nature of the creatures of the Underworld and drew upon their strenghts, a terrible martial discipline called "Hungry Ghost style". After years of teaching and gruelling practice, he was instructed by the elders to wander Creation, even while enduring its rejection of himself, in a quest of personal accomplishment and enlightment as well as in an effort to promote and restore the ancestral worship to the areas in which he'd travel.
Dressed up in deathly trappings, resembling a mourning itinerant monk, with shaven head, a mask of death covering his face and a wide brimmed straw hat over his head, satchel hanging from his shoulder and the iron will to succeed and in a Creation hostile to him, he began his travels, guided by instict and the strange whispers of beings he perceives - thus far - to be certain especially powerful ancestors. His travels brought him to Nexus, where he saw a first hand opportunity to test his martial mettle against other stylists and refine his own martial discipline through the anvil of tribulation.
Additional background, describing his life until his exaltation.
Ishiro grew up in Cherak. Son of a family from House Ferem he witnessed firsthand the politics surrounding it and learn his way in the noble courts of the House and later of the Realm. His natural aptitude in this field, led him to the position of Diplomat and soon he was traveling, exploring and negotiating for the profit of his city and House. During this time, he saw how other people viewed the dragon blooded and their kingdom and also what was really happening in many cases behind the niceties and pompous declarations of the Dynasts.
He was displeased as well for being treated as a second class citizen in the Realm and was never quite sure why he had to obey someone merely by virtue of the elemental power they manifested (as he still says from time to time, "exaltation is not a proven cure for idiocy and many other negative traits"). This displeasure was well hidden but slowly eating at him from the inside.
Then, one fateful week the unthinkable happened and his course in life changed forever. He was participating in a diplomatic mission to tribes of the northern regions in order to secure their aid versus the Bull of the North's expanding tendencies and promote his House interests by forging agreements for new trade routes and acquiring trading rites for the region.In truth though the purpose of this mission was different, unknown to young and idealist Ishiro, who saw himself as a uniter of people and cultures for common interest and as a soother of disputes (he did that since his childhood even among his, less talkative and more prone to rush action, friends, as he recalls).
The mission was to be accompanied by a small military detachment as an honour guard, but this was only for distraction. The soldiers accompanying them were elite commandos of the Realm, set on eliminating the threat posed by this place. As the strategists of the Realm had decreed the place was to be destroyed and used as a forward operations camp.
But since the needed force to overcome its defences was not possible to be diverted at that time and they had to move fast, they chose deceit and trickery over honesty and bravery.
The negotiations went well and Ishiro was proud of himself. He had even managed to get acquainted with a few dignitaries from the other side and envisioned this mission as great potential for his career. Then, at night, when the settlement was quite and all were asleep the soldiers struck fast, hard and mercilessly.
Ishiro - the clever youth he was by the time - suspected something and before the incursion overheard their officer giving the orders for the massacre. He stepped in, confronting him and threatening to alert the guards and avert his plans but the dragon blooded officer exerted such mental pressure over him, blackmailing him and more that he couldn't resist. He sat helpless and broken as the soldiers murdered every living creature in the settlement and his soul was full of grief for this and for himself. He felt useless, powerless and cursed himself for being a coward and not daring to stand up and defend those people he had signed pacts with. The cold weighed heavy upon him and began his arduous trekk to a place of relative safety, a place away from those dynasts, who would have his life at a moment's notice...
A few years passed and Ishiro managed to do well, despite the hardships he was forced into. Agreeing to surrender for gladiatorial training in exchange for food and a place to stay, as well as to get some combat skills for an imaginary payback to those ruthless dynasts, he became - gradually - an acknowledged gladiator and his name was regarded with respect by his peers and cheering by the crowd. But this was not to last. He was slowly growing weary of this life and was secretly afraid that his days would end by some younger fighter in the bloodstained sand of an arena and what's more he wasn't fond of dying without breathing the invigorating air of freedom once more.
The chance presented itself in the days before a grand tournament. It seemed that some of the slaves had displeased their masters by the time and also that some important dignitaries from the Realm would be also attending. Rumour had it that among their ranks was a renowned Dragon blooded martial artist, against whom -most said- even the greatest gladiators didn't stand a chance. And this particular one, maybe out of sadistic tendencies maybe out of excessive pride, had decided to make a show of force and teach "the impudent people of the Threshold" a lesson in martial discipline and pain.
The festival that was organised in their honour was grand and the games in the arena were the crown jewel to it.
Various martial artists, wealthy merchants, nobles and government officials were present along with hundrends of spectators.
After a few exhibition performances from various stlylists that have traveled there for the tournament, and a few more or less friendly sparring matches to warm up the crowd, the real and awaited spectacle-or shall we say butchery-began. The gates of the arena opened and a group of 5 gladiators stepped out, hesitantly, awaiting to see what would come to face them.
Then from the honoured guests' seats, a figure, moving faster than the eye, descended on the arena floor.
A young man - as he was looking - stepped forth and with graceful and fluid motions stood ready. His face was impassive, save for a small smirk, indicating what was about to follow. The-so called-fight began and Ishiro could do nothing more but watch, like a lion behind the iron bars of the arena's gates. Most of the gladiators' blows failed to even touch the arrogant dragon blooded. He seemed to flow through their attacks and defences and even the few hits that actually stroke him, seemed to do nothing more than a pebble would do by falling to the surface of a lake. Then one by one, he began to grapple and strangle them, break their bones and sent them sprawling to the ground with agonizing screams.
When he couldn't stand watching any more, he assaulted the arena guards himself, opening the doors and running, blind from anger and rage into the fighting pit. He knew that the dynast possessed unearthly skill in martial arts but he could not think rationally at that time. His fury was such that he manage to hit him - if only once - before the jaded dragonblooded turned and proceeded to crash every bone in his body with methodic efficiency. In those agonizing moments, when sheer cruelty reduced him almost to nothingness and the chilling grasp of the grave felt closer than ever, Ishiro heard a voice, like a cold faint whisper. A voice urging him to take his offer. A voice coming from the mouth of death itself. And it was then, on that fatefull day, at that distant and bloodied arena, that Ishiro shed his mortal existance forever and become a champion of Death.
Appearance
He looks (as indicated in the picture below) like Death in Darksiders 2, albeit without any of his weapons (scythe etc) but only with a pair of razor claws, stylized like sharp skeletal fingers. He is also wearing a soulsteel hearthstone amulet on his neck and a black cloak and straw hat, especially while travelling. A leather satchel can also be seen hanging diagonally from his shoulder and the imagery of death is evident in all his attire.
Character Sheet
Name Ishiro the Ebon Ghost / "Obsidian Harbinger of Silence"
Exalt Type and Caste Abyssal Midnight caste
Anima A spectral figure arises behind Ishiro, taking the shape of a Barrow King as the anima reaches iconic levels, with his obsidian crown etched with the Old Realm characters for "silence".
Motivation End injustice in Creation.
Attributes
Physical
Strength ●●●
Dexterity ●●●●●
Stamina ●●●
Social
Charisma ●●●●
Manipulation ●●●
Appearance ●●
Mental
Perception ●●
Intelligence ●●
Wits ●●●
Abilities
Archery
[F]Martial Arts ●●●●●
Melee
Thrown
War
[C]Integrity ●●●●
[C]Performance ●●●
[C]Presence ●●
[C]Resistance ●●
[C]Survival ●●●
Craft
Investigate
Lore ●
Medicine
[F]Occult ● [Ghosts +1]
[F]Athletics ● [Maintain balance +1]
[F]Awareness â●●
[F]Dodge ●●●●● [unarmored +2]
Larceny
Stealth
Bureaucracy
Linguistics ● [skytongue (native), Riverspeak]
Ride
Sail
Socialize
Backgrounds
Artifact ●● [soulsteel Razor Claws: Gifted to Ishiro by the elder Abbot of the secluded monastery where he studied the esoteric arts of essence manipulation, the martial arts style of Hungry Ghost and the ability to reduce the dire consequences and impact his altered nature brought to him and Creation. They are exquisite weapons, their very appearance memsmerizing to look at, carved to perfection, sharp beyond the chilling cold of the grave, with engravings and patterns aking to moaning souls trapped inside a priceless material. When attuned they seem to be covered in an icy aura of cold, that leeches the very essence out of those unfortunate enough to feel their chilling caress].
Artifact ●● [silken Armor]
Artifact ● [soulsteel Hearthstone Amulet: "Amulet of Souls" Retrieved by Ishiro inside a locked chest, situated in the Shadowland near the monastery he was training, as one of the final tests the elder monks put him through].
Mentor ● [Takeno, the mysterious elder and Abbot of the secluded monastic order that took Ishiro in during the time he was hunted by the Realm and taught him how to harness his altered nature and how to utilized his newfound capabilities, through the teachings of Hungry Ghost style, as well as other esoteric techniques. A remote and distant figure, who nevertheless played a crucial role in Ishiro's life. Ishiro still pays him a visit from time to time, to gain additional insight and benefit from his wisdom].
Manse ● [A small, beautifully crafted pagoda on the hills, somewhere near Sijan. Produces: Memorial Iron Hearthstone]
Whispers ●●[The semi-coherent rumblings of the Neverborn, dead Titans of ages past, that find their way to Ishiro's mind, who perceives them as incredibly old, powerful, embittered and vengeful ancestor spirits that attempt to guide him in his (un)life as champion of Death].
Merits
Flaws
Artifacts and Equipment
Soulsteel Razor claws "Icy Talons"
Sp. 5 Acc. 16 Dmg. 8L Def. +2 R. 3 Att. 6m Tags M [Drain 3 motes per wounding hit].
Silken Armor
Soak: +5L/3B Att.2 Fat. 0 Mob.pen. -1 [when not attuned]
Soulsteel Hearthstone Amulet
"Amulet of Souls"
Charms
Martial Arts
Hungry Ghost style
Blood Scenting Hunger
Leaping Horror Approach
Shrouded Claw Attack
Lunging Phantom Method
Hungry Ghost Form
Integrity
2nd Integrity Excellency
Faithful Killer's Reprieve
Performance
Morbid Fascination Style
Presence
1st Presence excellency
Survival
Maelstrom-Weathering Indifference
Dodge
Flitting Shadow Form
Flickering Wisp Technique [Temperance Flaw of Invulnerability]
Linguistics
Scathing Cynic Attitude
Join Combat: 5
Defenses
Dodge DV 8
Parry DV 6
Soak: 6B/6L [9B/8L when Hungry Ghost form is active]
Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
-X [ ]
Mental Defenses
Dodge MDV 7
Parry MDV 4
Virtues
Compassion ●
Conviction ●●●
Temperance ●●●
Valor ●●
Flawed Virtue Compassion
Intimacies
Injustice [fierce opposition]
Ancestral Worship [devotion]
Cold breeze [refreshment]
Hungry Ghost style [aspiration to master fully]
Martial Arts [internal fullfillment]
The Realm [opposition]
Dynasts [hatred]
Immaculate Order [scorn]
Willpower: 7
Essence
Permanent: ●●●
Personal: 16/16 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 28/37 (9 Committed)
Bonus Points (18)
Essence 2 to 3 (7)
Willpower 5 to 7 (2)
3 favoured charms (9)
