RE: The Lifter's Paradox [Signups, kinda!]
02-08-2013, 02:34 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-08-2013, 03:01 AM by SleepingOrange.)
Profile:
Round:
SpoilerShow
Name: Sofie III the Crimson
Race: Human shaped and of human mind, both tainted now
Gender: Female
Biography: The peasants had hung garlic for as long as they could remember, carried silver just as long, feared the night since darkness first fell. It was simply the reality of the world; the crown was too weak to fight back, the church too passive, the people too conditioned and afraid. It was life, and often it was short. This all changed under the reign of Queen Sofie III, although none of her subjects would have expected it when she was crowned.
Sofie was an exceptionally pious woman throughout her youth and into her adulthood; she was preparing to become a nun, and was never expected to be the crown princess. Third in line for the throne, it was her brothers that were groomed for royalty while she chose instead service to God. Her coronation came as a shock to her as much as to anyone: the entire royal family had been slaughtered by an unprecedented attack by a clan of beast-men from the forest, and it was down to Sofie to lead the country. She hung up her wimple, but rather than don the crown, she donned mail and took up a blade.
In the following decades, she lead a crusade against the nocturnal terrors that had since time immemorial infested her country. Chief among her targets were the human men and women who had taken up the devil's arts, plaguing decent people by choice rather than by their nature. Witches and sorcerers and diviners and enchanters were tortured and publicly executed, often by the queen herself and always to the cheers of the public. The Crimson Queen became one of the longest-reigning and most beloved monarchs in her country's history.
But time advanced its march and she aged. It became harder and harder to fight and to train and to lead; it became harder to protect her people, and she felt death's cold grip on her throat. She was afraid. Not for herself, but for what would happen to her kingdom when passed. What would happen when her lack of an heir plunged politics into a backstabbing succession war. What would happen when the demons and sinners she'd cast down met her in Limbo. She was haunted by her impending death, and doubly haunted by the promises her victims had often tried to make in exchange for their lives.
And she reasoned, what was the power of demons when compared to the power of God? Surely the most faithful of mortals could use His might to corral His enemies. Think of Honorius III. What could power like that do in the hands of a warrior instead of a priest?
And so her reign continued, well into the realms of the suspicious. She aged, but she never seemed to become ill or to tire, and she never relented in her eternal quest to cleanse the land. To her foes, she was an unholy terror; to her subjects, a shining saint. To everyone, she was an age that had gone past the unusual into the baffling.
When she disappeared from the face of the earth, the rumors began flowing in earnest.
Description: Gone are the days the Crimson Queen never dressed herself in less than mail and leather; she is now a figure that can be called no other adjective but "stately". Her advanced age has drained her of the beauty she never really had, and she never had time for her appearance in any case. She wears a sanguine gown and wrought-iron crown, symbols of protection and warding worked expertly into both. She moves slowly by habit and thinks longer than she speaks, but a keen observer who watches her eyes will know she hasn't lost her cutting edge so much as hidden it.
She is wracked by responsibility, fear, and guilt; her personality was forged in the fire of war against the anvil of faith, and it shows in her every move and action. What time she has been forced to spend in her court has tempered her somewhat, but above all else she is a woman of action and of God. She worries that she has betrayed her people and her Lord, but worries more that having chosen another path would have been an even greater betrayal.
The price of her actions has begun to show itself to her in hints and whispers. She responds by gripping her sword harder.
Weapons/Abilities: At her waist she carries an expertly-forged rapier and a dagger worn with use. Both have been at the throats of countless demonspawn and curseworkers; some say that by now the blades cut the very threads of sorcery as well as they do mortal flesh.
Though she is the picture of well-preserved-but-steadily-advancing age, she is both significantly stronger and more agile than anyone would credit her for. Well within human limits, of course, but far beyond what her age and apparent health should allow. She heals slower than ever, though, and this worries her greatly.
She has extensive knowledge of the demonic and gnostic arts, having dedicated her life and her treasury to their destruction. This knowledge has recently become much more personal. Sometimes, she finds she knows things she shouldn't, or desperately wishes she did not.
There is more to her than anyone knows or than she admits. She never feels alone.
Race: Human shaped and of human mind, both tainted now
Gender: Female
Biography: The peasants had hung garlic for as long as they could remember, carried silver just as long, feared the night since darkness first fell. It was simply the reality of the world; the crown was too weak to fight back, the church too passive, the people too conditioned and afraid. It was life, and often it was short. This all changed under the reign of Queen Sofie III, although none of her subjects would have expected it when she was crowned.
Sofie was an exceptionally pious woman throughout her youth and into her adulthood; she was preparing to become a nun, and was never expected to be the crown princess. Third in line for the throne, it was her brothers that were groomed for royalty while she chose instead service to God. Her coronation came as a shock to her as much as to anyone: the entire royal family had been slaughtered by an unprecedented attack by a clan of beast-men from the forest, and it was down to Sofie to lead the country. She hung up her wimple, but rather than don the crown, she donned mail and took up a blade.
In the following decades, she lead a crusade against the nocturnal terrors that had since time immemorial infested her country. Chief among her targets were the human men and women who had taken up the devil's arts, plaguing decent people by choice rather than by their nature. Witches and sorcerers and diviners and enchanters were tortured and publicly executed, often by the queen herself and always to the cheers of the public. The Crimson Queen became one of the longest-reigning and most beloved monarchs in her country's history.
But time advanced its march and she aged. It became harder and harder to fight and to train and to lead; it became harder to protect her people, and she felt death's cold grip on her throat. She was afraid. Not for herself, but for what would happen to her kingdom when passed. What would happen when her lack of an heir plunged politics into a backstabbing succession war. What would happen when the demons and sinners she'd cast down met her in Limbo. She was haunted by her impending death, and doubly haunted by the promises her victims had often tried to make in exchange for their lives.
And she reasoned, what was the power of demons when compared to the power of God? Surely the most faithful of mortals could use His might to corral His enemies. Think of Honorius III. What could power like that do in the hands of a warrior instead of a priest?
And so her reign continued, well into the realms of the suspicious. She aged, but she never seemed to become ill or to tire, and she never relented in her eternal quest to cleanse the land. To her foes, she was an unholy terror; to her subjects, a shining saint. To everyone, she was an age that had gone past the unusual into the baffling.
When she disappeared from the face of the earth, the rumors began flowing in earnest.
Description: Gone are the days the Crimson Queen never dressed herself in less than mail and leather; she is now a figure that can be called no other adjective but "stately". Her advanced age has drained her of the beauty she never really had, and she never had time for her appearance in any case. She wears a sanguine gown and wrought-iron crown, symbols of protection and warding worked expertly into both. She moves slowly by habit and thinks longer than she speaks, but a keen observer who watches her eyes will know she hasn't lost her cutting edge so much as hidden it.
She is wracked by responsibility, fear, and guilt; her personality was forged in the fire of war against the anvil of faith, and it shows in her every move and action. What time she has been forced to spend in her court has tempered her somewhat, but above all else she is a woman of action and of God. She worries that she has betrayed her people and her Lord, but worries more that having chosen another path would have been an even greater betrayal.
The price of her actions has begun to show itself to her in hints and whispers. She responds by gripping her sword harder.
Weapons/Abilities: At her waist she carries an expertly-forged rapier and a dagger worn with use. Both have been at the throats of countless demonspawn and curseworkers; some say that by now the blades cut the very threads of sorcery as well as they do mortal flesh.
Though she is the picture of well-preserved-but-steadily-advancing age, she is both significantly stronger and more agile than anyone would credit her for. Well within human limits, of course, but far beyond what her age and apparent health should allow. She heals slower than ever, though, and this worries her greatly.
She has extensive knowledge of the demonic and gnostic arts, having dedicated her life and her treasury to their destruction. This knowledge has recently become much more personal. Sometimes, she finds she knows things she shouldn't, or desperately wishes she did not.
There is more to her than anyone knows or than she admits. She never feels alone.
Round:
SpoilerShow
The Great Golemworks
A factory or workshop dedicated to the production of golems, either rennaissance or magindustrial themed. Recently, a war has broken out in the outside world, and some country or faction has commissioned the creation of a golem of unprecedented scale and abilities, or perhaps an entirely-autonomous fighting force. The frantic engineers/artisans have let safety and quality slip in all areas not relating to the new project; their experiments towards the order have begun producing unpredictable results, and they don't have the manpower to keep it all under control.
A factory or workshop dedicated to the production of golems, either rennaissance or magindustrial themed. Recently, a war has broken out in the outside world, and some country or faction has commissioned the creation of a golem of unprecedented scale and abilities, or perhaps an entirely-autonomous fighting force. The frantic engineers/artisans have let safety and quality slip in all areas not relating to the new project; their experiments towards the order have begun producing unpredictable results, and they don't have the manpower to keep it all under control.