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Voyages of the Avanestra

Game Master Tyrn Jade

Explore the universe and discover the mysteries of life in a space-fantasy setting.



Okay guys! Everything seems to be good so I figured we'd get this started. I'm just going to spew information about the universe as I go so if you don't understand a concept, feel free to ask. If there's any kinks, we'll find them as we play. Again, if something isn't working with a homebrew rule or I'm not interpreting a core rule correctly, please let me know as I have not DMed in about two years so my memory may be dodgy. I DMed often, it's just been a while since. Okay, enough yip-yap!

A New Era is Born

It is the year 7512; the 12th day of the fifth month of an Adelene year. Spring illuminates the great city of Illia, a wondrous stony matrix of districts connected by pathways, creating cities that cover more ground, but allow for enormous amounts of green-space. Seas of forests flood either side of a pathway, but within a district (a.k.a. a Center), the Rhaelians have built tremendous cities. Mons, those stony automatons you see operating within cities, make up the bulk of second and third tier jobs (manufacturing and resource extraction). The Free Republic of Species, the sovereign name that the people of the Adelene Stewardship identify with, are able to live less laborious lives and pursue creative interest. The will of the people is directly manifested in this amorphous, naturalized way of society. The abundance of resources coming from mining-mon in the asteroid fields and derelict planetoids has allowed for incredible advancements in science and technology.

Between the perceptive capabilities of Kajiiatans and the calculating mentality of the Rhaelians, they have finally completed the greatest accomplishment in the history of both of their species: the creation of the Avanestra. It is a voidcraft, or spaceship, possessing the capabilities of traversing the stars much like the stationary Conduit Anchors located in Illia and Kajiiata. Zir Ysdir Jules created this particular engine that is capable of utilizing the same principles. It's called a Jules Atma Core, and it won him countless merits on top of ones he received for creating the first synthetic humanoid, though he was unable to receive them as he mysteriously disappeared a month after its creation.

But this day, the 12th day of the fifth month of the known year 7512, is a day of celebration. It's actually the fifth day of the Eve of Launch Festival, and the Conduit Anchor has never been used so much in such a little amount of time. Both the Rhaelians and Kajiiatans celebrate this day, and though people around both worlds hold festivities, the ones held in Illia and Kajiiata are renown. It's a day to celebrate the symbolic union of two species, originating light years apart, now only hours away, and the dawn of the new era and the opening of a frontier hardened explorers. A tremendous honor is to be accepted on the expeditionary team, known as Deoxul, a Kajiiatan name for a concept. This concept can be interpreted as "that which shows the universe". The Deoxul will engage the unknown, so the world may one day know.

I will have personal posts coming, but as of right now, I am assuming you guys to be in Illia, Anchor Center (hub where the C. Anchor is located), in the late morning, two days before launch and one day before the reception. You guys have your own rooms at the Celeborn Retreat, where the reception will be. You've been in Illia for about five days (since the festival began). You guys could have already introduced yourselves or not, it's up to you. You're able to explore the city. Some points of interest are the promenade, Celeborn Retreat, CSA Academy, and the Adelene Stewardship government building but these are just examples. So yeah, you're free to post what it is you're doing in the city. Xan, I'll PM you, guy.


Standing on the balcony of his room in his night robes Raal sipped tea, a dark brew he brought with him from home, and nibbled on a piece of flatbread as he watched the sun rise on the horizon. The light crawled lazily over the landscape, a beautiful view from the spire in the Celebration Retreat, lighting up the green-space, the centers and the walkways between them. Raal admired the beauty of it as he ate his breakfast.

The reception was tomorrow, Raal had another day to roam Illia, he'd walked the Celebration Retreat, he'd walked the streets and he'd spent two years in the CSA Academy, today he intended to visit the Adelene Stewardship building.

Turning from the rising sun his kajiiatan eyesight let him see his room perfectly in the rising light. His uniform lay on his bed, ironed and cleaned, crimson on black with golden kajiaatan embroidery on the arms and his insignia runes on the shoulders, putting it on he donned his belts with his equipment and headed out. Some might raise an eyebrow at him walking around armed and armored, he didn't care, let them raise eyebrows then.

Currently at the Retreat but heading for the Stewardship building playing tourist.


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3

Mathesar awoke as the sun started to shine into his eyes through the window, err, skylight. Thoughts filled his mind. This isn't my room. What am I wearing? So the rumors are false - spiking drinks with alchemist's kindness doesn't prevent hangovers - ouch. What happened? He closed his eyes again and forced his mind to focus. Jumbled images flashed through his head: a lot of people, a swimming pool, his head in a punch bowl, some more-than-symbolic union of two species. Now I remember - the guys threw me a going-away party, he thought. Still doesn't explain the dress I appear to be wearing.

He opened his eyes again, shielding them from the dazzling sun with his hand. There was a note on the pillow next to him which he picked up and found to be someone's contact information. The name means nothing to me - not only does it not ring any bells, it is a bare personal name, probably parent-invented since I can't tell if it is Rhaelian or Kajiiatan. Or even what gender it is for. Heck, it literally means 'nothing' to me - in Tla'n. He chuckled to himself, then winced as pain reminded him that he still had a hangover. Whoever left this must either have been enough of a geek to appreciate that bon mot, or too drunk to care, I hope the former.

Mathesar crawled out of the bed, discovering in the process that his bag lay on the floor next to the bed. Heh. I'm clearly still a model alchemist, even while dead drunk. I may lose my clothes, but I'll never lose my gear. He prepared and drank the alchemist's kindness he had in his bag, then spent a few minutes working out from what he had mixed the day before from what ingredients were depleted. Two Polypurpose Panaceas. Makes sense. I'm one of the few who can hand that out. Someone else probably had Enlarge/Reduce and all the other fun things covered. I pulled two party tricks of some kind with Disguise Self. And I made and drank a charisma booster, that explains why I feel worse than usual.

He wandered through the detris of what must have been one hell of a party, reciting snippets of plays to focus his mind. "...it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to..."

After not finding anyone else awake or any of his clothes (or any other ones lying around) except his shoes, Mathesar left a note and the building. It was a manor house with a swimming pool out front filled with a large variety of things which were not his clothes (he checked). I should probably return to my apartment and make sure I didn't lose my new uniform. I hope I did the logical thing and wore an illusion of it, which would certainly explain my current lack of attire if I wore nothing else. Since this is all I've got to wear for now, I might as well go all in. He then mixed Disguise Self, fished a woman's hat out of the pool, raided an unattended purse nearby for beauty supplies, prepared himself, and left for his apartment.

He leaves at about 1 pm. He hasn't drank the extract yet. Disguise check:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26


N/A Animi Hexcrafter Magus 2/Vivisectionist Beastmorph Alchemist 2, Perception +6, Initiative +2, AC16, FFAC 14, DR 5/Silver

Absentmindedly Animi Exploration and Diplomacy Unite Designation Harbinger One had spent the majority of her short life here on this street a few miles away from the Conduit Anchor where she first emerged a mere month into her existence, the first "being" to have traveled the harrowing and risky journey across the very folds of space and time to reach a distant star.

Harbinger One was a first in many respects. First of her kind, first to cross the anchor, and soon the first mate on the first vessel built to bend enormous amounts of raw atma to warp reality in such a way as to allow free travel between the stars.

"She" ,as close to a gender as anyone could giver her given her appearance, admitted privately that she would miss the Kajiiatan homeworld. Their appreciation of natural beauty, art, theatre, and life in general could keep her ravenous curiosity going for decades. It was never long before some new fashion or idea would occupy her for a while before she would grow bored and move on to the next new thing. Yet here she was not looking for anything new, but rather to invoke some spark of nostalgia in her as she saw the spring flowers start to stir in the early morning predawn. It was chilly a sensation she did not feel as much as register on the thousands of tiny detection enchantments woven into the white marble dermis of her frame. She could not shiver, nor in reality ever know what "cold" was beyond a unit of temperature measurement that Rhaelians would also describe as "uncomfortable". However she could still appreciate noise, and color, and smell. The flowers were magnificent this time of year, and she supposed only a creature that had no worry of basic body functions could appreciate the subtle and smooth movements of a flower slowly opening up to greet the sun, or the carefully disciplined movements of a tortoise as it navigated its way across a fallen log. She had tried, numerous times, with various individual scientists, artists, and at least one curious writer, to have them sit and watches as one or more plants made their slow but steady trek of the day as they watched the sun. But, as usual it was never long before some bodily function got in the way. Being organic and sentient must be some kind of psychological nightmare, she ultimately surmised. How anyone got anything accomplished with constant thoughts about sex, food, and bowel movements constantly interrupting their lives she could never guess.

As she found a rotting stump in a certain spot she earmarked she watched her current curiosity. A rare flower that bloomed only once every twenty cycles of this planet. Sitting perfectly still the constructed being watched, unblinking for two hours as the delicate flower, no larger than a fingertip meticulously opened each petal exposing its reproductive portions to the morning insects. Her curiosity sated, Harbinger one made her long trek back up towards the pathways that connected Illia.

Illia itself was another thing that she would miss. A colorful city more for artisans than scientists it was a stark contrast to the perfectly angled and mathematically sound engineering of the Rhaelian's that built here. For the progress was ever upward and frivolities such as theaters and restaraunts were rare and amusing distractions. For the Kajiiatans though it was a way of life. Her commanders and creators were stiff men of steel edges and pure numbers unaware that her likely failings as a diplomat were a design flaw that came from her lack of ability to experience things on the same level as they. She knew that in many ways she was lucky. The Kajiiatans embraced the new, saw things in ways others would not or could not. But what if she had met technophobic primitives? Or worse a species that subsisted on raw atma? She could see how her inability to effectively communicate with organic creatures might present a problem. Did her creators? Did it matter now?

There were many things to think about. She was the first of her kind. Built to explore the stars in the place of those beings bound by basic biological needs. With the building of the Avanestra would she be the last? She knew more than a few Rhaelians who still referred to her as a machine, as property, or worse as an obsolete tinker toy. She ignored these comments though despite her veneer of calm often spent extra time practicing her own martial arts that day.

Too much to think about. Never enough time. As she laid out the dress she planned to wear for the reception at her apartment she tried to push them aside for now and focus on the ugly task of trying to socialize on a level she doubt she would ever understand.


Very nice gents! I understand my posts was vague and I made an impromptu trip back home so I've been traveling and visiting with friends, not having much time to post. So far you guys have done very well in terms of interpreting the universe without me tailoring intros. Just one minor detail, referring to your post H1, is that Rhaelians would definitely appreciate leisurely things such as theatres and restaurants and have plenty available, especially with more free time. But compared to Kajiiatans, that appreciation looks dimmed, haha. But these are minor details that virtually do not matter. I really enjoyed your post. Good job, ya'll!

Raal

The suit fits surprisingly snug. It's a little different than the Magi issues in Kajiiata, but you can definitely see that those designs influenced the CSA's style. You expect no resistance from anyone as you make your way toward the government building armed, as not only are you in uniform, but it is expected that citizens provide their own means of protecting themselves. It was initially a highly debatable topic, until research showed less crime occurring as more and more people owned weapons. But on such a celebratory day, some might view it as unnecessary though ultimately tolerated.

You make your way down the stairs to the lobby at the Retreat. It was filled with all sorts of people, and many vendors with goods to sell right in the large lobby. The crowd filled the Retreat as they spilled from the outside, which you finally made it to the doors. In passing, you'd hear people whisper to their friends "He's in uniform." "It's a spaceman!" "Should we go talk to him?" "Lets get his autograph". It somewhat flatters you, but you know if you stop moving you will never get anywhere with this crowd.

You open the doors and open up the day to an even more massive crowd outside, as they make a path for the oncoming parade. Large floats of space-themed structures, and planets with green little aliens popping in and out of the craters. Many streams of colorful floating fabric swim through the air, and airships casting colorful cantrips overhead throughout the city, though the real show will be tomorrow during the reception, where the Deoxul have front row seats on the balcony of the Master Suite at the retreat.

You wade through the crowd but in a few minutes you reach a transport disc, or more commonly just called a disc, which you set on a course for the Adelene Stewardship gov. building. You walk onto the platform along with other passengers. The circular plate beneath you, appearing as a sort of iridescent glass but you know it's atmatically manifested, has a quick burst of illumination and then stabilizes at a slight dim. As it levitates from its stationary stony base, inscribed with various glowing runes and labels that are mostly used for navigation, there is a faint trail of light radiation that tails in the opposite direction of where it's moving. Kajiiatans always loved complex colors and can perceive the world more vibrantly at times than a Rhaelian, but their technology can sure create some art. The disc levitates about 15 feet into the air (considered the Discosphere, where above that would be the Aerosphere, which is usually used by larger airships or even smaller private airships), which then begins to illuminate slightly brighter as it flies perfectly along a horizontal plane, above the crowd, toward the government building. You breeze by filled pathways below full of people and shops, interacting and creating markets, discussing ideas and maybe even finding love. Even for your hardened personality, there is a certain appreciation when you take this all in.

You finally arrive at the government building. The disc descends onto another stony platform, with slightly different runes. This district is not as populated, but the Stewardship still actively participates in the festival, offering tours of their museum and also providing lectures and briefings about the Avanestra and its journey. When you were on the disc, you couldn't help but notice that groups of naysayers and protesters dotted the celebratory landscape, but even more so at the Stewardship.

K-Local DC 13:
These groups of people are a conglomerate of different rationalities as to why the Avanestra should not take launch. These would be more conservative or purest groups, with platforms against immigration and interstellar open-borders and especially against incorporating more aliens into the Stewardship (which they might not even like the Stewardship itself). Their reasons range from xenophobia, fear of genetic tainting, fear of Kajiiatans going to war with the Rhaelians, and some are just plain purest or worship old religions that see the world through a more Singular Anthropomorphic Principle.

You are within the courtyard at the bottom of the stairs that lead to entrance. Their elaborate gardens decorate the hills and berms that the House sits upon. The high-noon sun, Rhael, shines through the blue-glass pane that makes the ceiling of the Stewardship House. A very visual time to be in there. Preachers and naysayers are on either side of the pathway, mixed in with those genuinely enjoying the festival. There are some vendors here for shopping, and even the "Trivia Tent". Test your knowledge to win inits for prizes!


Erast awoke, and as before, knew his place in the universe. Eyes closed he could sense the planet silently spinning beneath him and the complex web of forces and objects and particles that spun him right along with it. As the morning sunrays struck his face he followed them back to their shining source, watching the little gleams of energy sashay through space like a greased eel. And then he opened his eyes.

This gift of awareness and certainty was his and his alone, and had been his since his earliest memories. He was told that his first demonstration of this power was crying seconds before earthquakes hit the temple, feeling the tiny distortions in the planet's gravity from the shifting ground. That confirmed his place in the prophecies, and his place in the universe.

Erast arose from his bedding, donned his robes and walked out to look at the sun, knowing that his idle reminisces were his mind seeking comfort in familiarity amid all this... newness. Stroking his fingers along a wall, he felt the synthetic fibers and particles that were its makeup, so different from the temple where all was aged wood or dull-strong metal...

After a youth amid acolytes and teachers, kitchenmasters and solemn guards who let loose the most interesting words when the younger ones tripped them up or threw eggs at them, Erast was alone.

No. Not alone. Drawing himself up, Erast forced his mind into order. I have my mission. To learn about people. Their beliefs and patterns, their knowledges and fears. To guide them along the path. To promote the Sects. And I have the void... Reaching out and touching the tiny invisible strings that bind the universe together, Erast idly strokes one and watches its brother hum in sympathy, manifesting in a bright warm light glowing in the air in front of him. Stilling it and the light with a pinch, Erast nods in satisfaction. I have the void. My domain. Mine to understand, mine to control. Mine to be MINE. Erast nods again, gripping his fists tightly. Mine to be mine.

Taking a deep breath, Erast throws his head back, assumes an expression of serene genuflection, and enters the world.


Mathesar

Haha. Are you trying to dress like a woman? I like your character! He creates party enhancers. It is definitely more common for the young adults of Adelene society (the product of Rhaelian and Kajiiatan culture) to party and enjoy themselves in very liberal and somewhat "primal" manners. People enjoy a multitude of safe enhancers as much as they enjoy wine or other fermented drinks.

As you make your way down the stairs and to the entrance of this seemingly large house, you notice that you have not seen or heard anyone. You hear the sounds of the parade in the distance, and you comfortably open the front door and head outside. You notice that you are on the outskirts of the city. How you got this far you are not quite sure. You turn around as you walk down the stairs outside in order to get a view of the house. It is pretty decently sized, composed of stone and certain patches of atmatite for basic utilities, with blue-glass panes and a big yard to go with it. You notice some lettering on the front of the house....

Admiral's Manor

You look as if you had seen a ghost. An entrance to Anchor Center is about half of a mile down the stone road. Celeborn Retreat is located in Anchor Center.

As you turn around, pale with fear, you are greeted by a tall, broad, and weathered man. He wears an admiral steward's uniform, a very prestigious title within the Stewardship. His face bears many knicks and scars, especially one big one across his left eye, in which he wears a rather intimidating eye-patch to cover the wound. He is bald, with a large white beard. His hands are as big as flap-jacks. He is accompanied by two subordinates, which stare at you with the same investigative eye(s). With a deep, stony voice, he says....

"You seem ill, little girl (assuming you meant to dress as one. If not, boy). Your face has been flushed of all its warmth. Are you a friend of Ryan's?" You feel a slight relief, as he seems less intimidating. Though he looks like he'd eat your face for dishonoring his home in some fashion that you're not even quite aware of yet :).

Here I will have you roll an INT check to try to remember information to help you in this "interview" with the Admiral Steward. I do memory checks like so: Your INT score is the DC. You roll a d20. If the raw d20 roll is less than or equal to your INT score, you remember the information. Because of the events of last night, your INT is treated as 15 for remembering things from said events >:) muahaha! So if you roll a 1-15, you remember. See in this way, those with an INT of 20 are treated as having a "perfect memory".


Mathesar

Forgot to add the spoiler! Also, we'll make it 16 instead of 15.

Memory DC 16:
Upon hearing the name, you initially think it's his son or something, in which you do not recall meeting any boy named Ryan. But you do recall spending an extended amount of time with a girl named Ryanne. You remember sandy-blonde hair with some brighter highlights streaked in parts (a popular fad among the youth. It is common to see colored hair), with moss-green eyes and a couple cute sun-kissed freckles on her cheekbones. You see the resemblance in her supposed father's eye(s). You recall seeing her at the Oma-plex, a place where a lot of the youth go to meet other people; complete with dancing, lounge rooms, and cantrip lighting.... not to mention good drinks and other recreational substances.


Mathesar

They're armored quadrupedal friends (horses) also stand tall and investigative of you, tilting their heads to the side to give you a horsey stink-eye. You presume the horse with the metal eye-patch is the Admiral's.


Harbinger One[b]

Nice post! I think you'll play an animus very well.

You ponder deeply to yourself as your hold the dress up to your body in front of the mirror. It's hard for you to judge by what you think might look good, as you have virtually no sexual tendencies; which is the basis for finding others attractive. Still, you enjoy "pretending". There are times where you really are certain of who you are and what you want, but then there are other times where those feels are just gone. There was a quick moment where you were staring at yourself in the mirror so intently, that you simply did not see "you", but your mind registered the being as a Kajiiatan. The moment breaks as you hear a knock on the door.

knock, knock, knock, knock...

(muffled)[b]"Prime? Are you in there? Ms. Prime? It's Alec."

Alec, a Rhaelian approximately in his mid 30's, a pupil of your creator, Zir Ysdir Jules. He's been with you from the start, and you've seen his body change throughout the years as yours only changes during periodic upgrades. Eventually you were taught to do them yourself, but organic life does not have nearly as much control over their aging process as you do. He has helped you in the past, and is always willing to answer your questions, despite times where the questions are relentless, as you do not tire. Organics have multiple biological queues their bodies produce to allow the organism to conserve it's energy. But Alec has endured your questions much longer than anyone you can think of. He is available 91.3% of the time, which is significantly reliable and can be considered what organics call, a friend.

(muffled)"You weren't in your room this morning. I know you like to wander. But I still get worried. Can I come in? Are you even there?"

You sense a subtle urgency in his voice. His frequent panting and fractioned inhales say he has probably been searching for you for a while. You're not sure why, but a sense of excitement washes over you as you anticipate his presence beyond the door.


Erast of the Void

Cool insight to Erast's mentality and perception! Nicely done. I am assuming you are in your room at Celeborn Retreat.

You complete your morning ritual. You recall some representatives and minor elders of the sect are making an appearance at the government building today, discussing some last minute terms with the Captain, who you have become more acquainted with since you've been here in Illia. He of course made it a point to get to know you more, along with Kieran, as you two will be important advisers on the voidcraft. There is no obligation for you to be there, though the Captain prefers your presence rather than the elders, as you seem more agreeable and moderate to him. The Realm Wardens are certainly as stubborn as their credo, which the Captain has a hard time being patient with.

We can build this religion more as we go. Is the name Realm Wardens cool with you? Or did you have other things in mind? This is partly your creation after all so your opinion is appreciated! :) At this point you can really go wherever you'd like within the city. You could even travel to Kajiiata if you felt like it, you could definitely be back in time for the reception. Just showing you options! I'm starting Kieran off at the Academy, Raal is heading to the government building where your elders and the Captain are, H1 is at the retreat where you are (in fact, you hear someone knocking on her door), and Mathesar is in a potentially sticky situation on the outskirts of the city at the Admiral's Manor.


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3

Old-school Int Check: 1d20 ⇒ 10
Kn (Nobility) to recall who this guy is (name and other details): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3

If he wasn't an admiral steward I'd give him a piece of my mind - little girl - I'm all woman, Mathesar thought angrily to himself, faking a cough. "Yah, we're, like, friends. I'd love to stay and, like, chat and stuff, but I really must be going. I'm not, like, feeling too hot and I'm pretty sure I left" *Fake cough* "I left the stuff I'm s'posed to be taking for this cough back at my flat, and I need to take it soon, yuh know, so if you don't mind I'll be on my way..."

Mathesar will use his racial reroll; Bluff check:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22 or 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22. If no one stops him, he'll hurry homeward.

EDIT: If a horse ride is offered, he will beg off it by pointing out that he is wearing a dress.


Realm Wardens does sound a bit more like Homeland Security than priests; maybe something else? How about calling the elder priests the Hierarchs? Can come up with a public name for the church later, my idea is that within the circles the amalgamation of the Kajiatan and Rhaelian churches is just called 'the Sects'. I'll post soon.


Well, I'm not trained in kn local so I can't make rolls above DC 10 unless you want to house-rule it somehow.

Raal stops and stares for a few moments at the building in front of him, taking in the architecture, the layout of the gardens and the lines of it's walls. 'Flawed' is the only conclusion he can make in his kajiiatan mind. 'The flow is lost on that corner and the symetry of the garden is ruined by that grove. The atmic flow is lost in this place, chaotic, dis-respected.' he thinks sadly. The Raellans had a long way to go, as far ar they'd come in regards to technology they were still too hurried to fully appreciate atmic reconances in their habitats and places of work, something kajiaatan atmic architects has come to realize some thousands of years ago. Perhaps the raellians could be tought?

Shrugging Raal steps forward to the building, he was a soldier, not a teacher nor a diplomat, he had a mission and a purpose, he would do that and let others worry about diplomacyzing the lesser racees or the barbarians in the void. But while he was here he would take in what was to take in.

Yay for haugty elves! ;P


Leaving his room, Erast enters the flow of life. Unerringly he heads through the city following the threads until he finds a familiar strand which leads him back to the building where all the planning for the Avanestra is occurring. Nodding to the person behind the desk in the foyer, Erast is shown into a meeting room where the captain and the senior members of the Sects are having their discussions. Greeting his various superiors with a polite bow, he takes a seat on one of the chairs against the wall and crosses his arms as he listens.


N/A Animi Hexcrafter Magus 2/Vivisectionist Beastmorph Alchemist 2, Perception +6, Initiative +2, AC16, FFAC 14, DR 5/Silver
GM Tsuga canadensis wrote:

Harbinger One[b]

Nice post! I think you'll play an animus very well.

You ponder deeply to yourself as your hold the dress up to your body in front of the mirror. It's hard for you to judge by what you think might look good, as you have virtually no sexual tendencies; which is the basis for finding others attractive. Still, you enjoy "pretending". There are times where you really are certain of who you are and what you want, but then there are other times where those feels are just gone. There was a quick moment where you were staring at yourself in the mirror so intently, that you simply did not see "you", but your mind registered the being as a Kajiiatan. The moment breaks as you hear a knock on the door.

knock, knock, knock, knock...

(muffled)[b]"Prime? Are you in there? Ms. Prime? It's Alec."

Alec, a Rhaelian approximately in his mid 30's, a pupil of your creator, Zir Ysdir Jules. He's been with you from the start, and you've seen his body change throughout the years as yours only changes during periodic upgrades. Eventually you were taught to do them yourself, but organic life does not have nearly as much control over their aging process as you do. He has helped you in the past, and is always willing to answer your questions, despite times where the questions are relentless, as you do not tire. Organics have multiple biological queues their bodies produce to allow the organism to conserve it's energy. But Alec has endured your questions much longer than anyone you can think of. He is available 91.3% of the time, which is significantly reliable and can be considered what organics call, a friend.

(muffled)"You weren't in your room this morning. I know you like to wander. But I still get worried. Can I come in? Are you even there?"

You sense a subtle urgency in his voice. His frequent panting and fractioned inhales say he has probably been searching for you for a while.[/b][/b]...

"I am here." says Harbinger One. "You sound dehydrated. Shall I bring you a glass of water?"


Raal wrote:

Well, I'm not trained in kn local so I can't make rolls above DC 10 unless you want to house-rule it somehow.

Raal stops and stares for a few moments at the building in front of him, taking in the architecture, the layout of the gardens and the lines of it's walls. 'Flawed' is the only conclusion he can make in his kajiiatan mind. 'The flow is lost on that corner and the symetry of the garden is ruined by that grove. The atmic flow is lost in this place, chaotic, dis-respected.' he thinks sadly. The Raellans had a long way to go, as far ar they'd come in regards to technology they were still too hurried to fully appreciate atmic reconances in their habitats and places of work, something kajiaatan atmic architects has come to realize some thousands of years ago. Perhaps the raellians could be tought?

Shrugging Raal steps forward to the building, he was a soldier, not a teacher nor a diplomat, he had a mission and a purpose, he would do that and let others worry about diplomacyzing the lesser racees or the barbarians in the void. But while he was here he would take in what was to take in.

Yay for haugty elves! ;P

I dig the haughtiness! :)

The tall halls of the Stewardship house are obnoxiously covered in "art". Smatterings of lightning bolts here and murals of events, one notably being the Midgar Holocaust, over there, and to your mind, would just seem like a mess. Rhaelians take natural shapes, such as the shapes visualized of microscopic atma among other things, and they blow it up to perceivable sizes but in more imaginative forms, in order to be more aesthetically pleasing. They find beauty in their technology and sciences, but it may seem to you that they are simply trying too hard by RL standards, it pretty effin' decent, haha.

Here in the government building, you are able to gather information about the overall known universe or the Adelene Stewardship. Tours are held, such as one scheduled soon to tell the history of the Midgar Holocaust and the tyranny of Zir Lexer Hewes. There is also a holo-scan (holographic presentation) lecture in the auditorium by Zir Rejul Yariva, an astrophysicist and also an Admiral Steward. He will be discussing the great importance of the Avanestra's long-term goals, and what it can mean for home within the Stewardship. You also overhear that the captain is in a nearby meeting room, which you coincidentally notice your acquainted colleague, Erast, just enter.

I should also mention that there is food offered everywhere. Rhaelian hospitality, especially within the Stewardship, is equal to that of Hobbits :).


Human Barbarian (Invulnerable Rager) 1 Stats: HP 17/17; AC 18, touch 13, Flat Footed 15; CMD 18; Fort +6, Reflex +3, Will +4; Perception +7; Initiative +4; Rage [6/8]

”I thought you would have learn your lesson after the first time, Private. Space Chlamydia is no laughing matter! Here, take this prescription. You’ll want to take two of those pills every 12 hours for the next week and avoid dockside bars for the next three hundred thousand years. I swear by the Proteans, if I see you in here again and I’m letting it rot off. Maybe then you’ll learn something.”

A bashful CSA soldier buttons his trousers, takes Dr. Crane’s sloppily written prescription then rushes out the door with his head slumped. Kieran watches the diseased private leave with unveiled contempt until the door swings shut then turns around and begins meticulously packing his instruments into a well maintained case.

Kieran hated the Eve of Launch festival. Not for what it stood for but for the bizarre circumstances and unsightly ailments that flooded medical practitioners such as himself. One would imagine that those befitting the cloth of the CSA would be able to control themselves during the celebrations but they happen to be the worst offenders. Kieran had worked enough of these events where he could assume treatment just by the watching for the runes affixed to their uniforms. Crimson: mostly jaw realignments and stitches from brawling. Teal: weak constitution; stomach pumping and treatment of alcohol poisoning. Teal: typically chemical burns and the occasional semi-teleported limb (always interesting). Maroon and Pearl: Any combination of the above; STD’s fairly common. Gold: most of these medical anomalies involve mundane items and extraordinary circumstances. The less remembered about the Gold Runes, the better.

Tired from his shift, Kieran took his bag and left the office, nodding and waving his goodbyes. Spying his last patient flirting with one of his nurses he sidesteps and takes a quick detour to his side and whispers, ”Y’know son, every minute you delay curing that infection you risk erectile dysfunction and sterility.”

Without waiting for reply he continues out of the medical wing of the academy and back to his room at the retreat to gather his belongings and pack his bags for the coming launch.


Erast wrote:
Leaving his room, Erast enters the flow of life. Unerringly he heads through the city following the threads until he finds a familiar strand which leads him back to the building where all the planning for the Avanestra is occurring. Nodding to the person behind the desk in the foyer, Erast is shown into a meeting room where the captain and the senior members of the Sects are having their discussions. Greeting his various superiors with a polite bow, he takes a seat on one of the chairs against the wall and crosses his arms as he listens.

In regards to the posts about Hierarchs, I like it! I agree, Realm Wardens sounds to much like that. But I think I see where you're going with it more. So this amalgamation of churches.... is it like a conglomerate of different religions of both Rhaelian and Kajiiatan origins? Is its goal to preserve and protect those beliefs in an ever unfolding world? Just curious so I can incorporate it more!

The room has in it many pictures of landscapes, even imaginary ones. The spark of interest in other worlds has certainly shown through art, as many imaginative paintings are created about what other landscapes look like. Aside from the paintings, the room has a marble circular table, with inlaid, abstract gold designs, complete with ornate stone seats with cushions, though none of which are being used.

Captain A'dhelis Sigma acknowledges you pretty readily as you walked through the door. When you first met him, he may have come off as very forward, but even in conversations, he has a way of directing words and interpreting the words of others, making him quite easily to get a long with. The old adventurer, now 93 (extended age expectancy in this universe), bears many knicks and subtle scars, with tan weathered skin that has been exposed to many environments. His long silvery mane completes itself with is full, well trimmed beard. He has green eyes, with a hint of blue, that are contrasted by his dark, thick eyebrows. His stare is firm and direct, and his hand-shakes leave quite a dent on the hand, though this custom is respected by Rhaelians, something that you have learned to deal with over this cultural decade. Most Kajiiatans greet with a gentle touch of the shoulder, but the Captain knows this and did such to you... still rather firm though. He speaks in his deep voice, with an accent native to the Northlands on the continent of Hrodin, which is across the ocean to the west of Illia.

"Ah, good morning, Eirlast. Please, cohm in. We've behn hohpin' yu'd come. Have yu hahd brickfist? Lily supplied the buffay." He points to the adjacent wall from the door you entered through, where arranged fruits and breads are displayed, even some biscuits that are less sweet, but have puffy texture, something more like what you'd find in Kajiiata. "She makes an exilint pofu'n (Kajiiatan biscuit). I'm surtin I'd starve if it warent far her. But I've flapped meh teeth about my daughter enough now. Can't have ye fallin' in love now, eh? Help yerself."

[in Northland accent]"Your Elders and I were discussing some terms that they are concerned about. Perhaps you can help to give us some insight."

I will wait to see what Raal does before I continue but you are welcome to respond to this post regardless.


Stopping to view the 'art decor' Raal ponders them for a bit but just sighs as he feels a headache coming on, he didn't get it, depicting atma as something other than atma? Why? Atma was atma, plain to see, feel and free to utilize. Depicting it as something else was.. Well, off.

Stepping away from the mural Raal notices Erast enter the room with the captain and decides to follow. Approaching him from behind he gently touches his shoulder and mutters "Erast." in greeting and takes the seat next to him.


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3

So, did I managed to escape from the admiral steward?


N/A Animi Hexcrafter Magus 2/Vivisectionist Beastmorph Alchemist 2, Perception +6, Initiative +2, AC16, FFAC 14, DR 5/Silver
Kieran Crane wrote:
[b]”I thought you would have learn your lesson after the first time, Private. Space Chlamydia is no laughing matter!

Adding space before it does not make it sci-fi!


Human Barbarian (Invulnerable Rager) 1 Stats: HP 17/17; AC 18, touch 13, Flat Footed 15; CMD 18; Fort +6, Reflex +3, Will +4; Perception +7; Initiative +4; Rage [6/8]
Harbinger One wrote:
Kieran Crane wrote:
[b]”I thought you would have learn your lesson after the first time, Private. Space Chlamydia is no laughing matter!
Adding space before it does not make it sci-fi!

Wait, really? Dammit Wikipedia!


Mathesar Leesma wrote:

If he wasn't an admiral steward I'd give him a piece of my mind - little girl - I'm all woman, Mathesar thought angrily to himself, faking a cough. "Yah, we're, like, friends. I'd love to stay and, like, chat and stuff, but I really must be going. I'm not, like, feeling too hot and I'm pretty sure I left" *Fake cough* "I left the stuff I'm s'posed to be taking for this cough back at my flat, and I need to take it soon, yuh know, so if you don't mind I'll be on my way..."

Mathesar will use his racial reroll; Bluff check:1d20+8 or 1d20+8. If no one stops him, he'll hurry homeward.

EDIT: If a horse ride is offered, he will beg off it by pointing out that he is wearing a dress.

Hey guy. Sorry, I didn't forget you. The website has been off and on for me. Okay, heeerrrrrrrrrrrr we-go!!!

You're not sure how you were able to forget, but once your brain assembles back some neurons that severed from an excessive celebration the night before, it hits you like a brick. This is A.S. Adonis Sigma, the Captain's fraternal twin brother. He is a decorated officer, awarded many medals for his deeds during the Midgar Holocaust, and a master CQC fighter. But like his brother, he is gentle without cause to be otherwise. He is a hulking figure, and has roughly a foot over his subordinates. His voice booms, deep like his brother's but more stony and not as much of a Northland accent...

Sense motive! 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10 Oh s&!@! Haha. Nat shwon.

"AH WHY YESH OF COURSE!" he says with booming enthusiasm, "but having such an illness is very uncommon. It must be from all the new germs from firsht time Conduit riders. They can bring some nasty little fecks that know right where to feck your feckin' ah-mune shystem. They're just like those sneeeaaaky types of feckers that my dotter brings home from time to time. They get inside your body, feck your daughters, and try to sneak away from your ah-mune shystem like I'm a feckin' oblivious farht-sniffer - oh, there'sh my dotter now."

He abruptly finishes his sentence and sharply pans his head quickly toward the back of your right shoulder. She would have been in his blind-spot, but it's safe to assume he smelled her coming. She makes her way around the corner of the house, her knees and hands covered in dirt. You never knew she was a gardener. In fact, you weren't really sure what you knew. Her strawberry-blonde hair with radical highlights illuminates more memories that have been darkened by last night's shenanigans...

Memory DC 17:
You recall leaving the festival around 11:00pm, Rhael-time, and were mostly intoxicated at this point. You've only had about two ram-jams and one crab-knapper (not by choice), but the group of people you left the city with had many treats to offer, as did you to offer them. You vaguely recall being near water at a lake house outside the Anchor district (this would be located somewhere within the green-space. Rural areas are seldom open as houses dot the lush forests. If you were to live in one of these houses, you could have next door neighbors but not be able to see them from your house because of the dense forest). You also recall that you and Ryanne were getting along very well, and that she is very intelligent. You were surprised that she could maintain an intelligent conversation with you, even while under some mild recreational enhancements. You do not remember leaving the lake house.

DM Only, or else Refl save DC 20000:
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

She gives you a look. You know the look. The look that says, "Uuuuh, why the f*#@ are you wearing my dress?"

"Uhhh, Ma...th..-aline... Mathaline! You! Are you just getting up? Father this is my friend, Mathaline. Mathaline Sibia Labea. We met at the festival. Hope you don't mind that she stayed here. I'll take her home."

"WONDERFUL!" you swear you saw a sparkle in his eye, "I've always enjoyed sheeing you bring friendsh around. It's sad that you'll be leaving some of your friends tomorrow. But who knowsh, my shortcake, you jusht might be the mosht papular gurrl in SSHPACE! Well, you better get her home. She's been ravaged by a little germ-fecker. Better take the strider."

He whips his arm into extension, breaking the sound barrier as he points toward the strider; a one or two person atmatronic vehicle. Its marble and metal work are astounding, and the atmatite interface panel is state of the art. It's a model few could dream of riding... well, maybe 50 years ago! BAH! It's still exciting.

"Sure thing daddy!" She skips over to him and pecks him on the cheek, "I'll be back shortly."

She hops on the strider and activates the interface, which projects psuedo-holographic icons that the user can interact with. Many atmatronic devices have control systems like this. The atmatite runes illuminate and then stabilize at a dim as the ergonomic slab levitates off the ground by a field of impulsing atma radiation. "Get on, Mathy," she says in a playfully commanding voice.

Adonis waves goodbye with his huge hands that seem to cause an eclipse to occur as he waves side to side. He roars, "COME BACK ANYTIME MATHALINE! A FRIEND OF RYANNE'S IS A FRIEND OF ALL SIGMAS EVERYWHERE!!!"

You swear a crash of thunder finished his sentence as you and Ryanne strode toward Anchor Center. You sense a slight coldness coming from her, as she strides with spiteful silence.


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3

Memory check: 1d20 ⇒ 8

After enough awkward silence passes that A.S. Sigma is out of earshot, Mathesar says "I can explain. Sort of. I woke up in this dress and couldn't find my clothes. What should I have done - ganked someone else's and made them decided whether to walk home naked or in a dress?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

Perhaps I should've left the dress and trusted that I could get home before I ran out of Disguise Selfs to cover my nakedness, he thinks. I probably shouldn't mention that option to her.

EDIT: the dice seem to realize it's a lame excuse ;)


General concept was that the different religions have realized that they're not so different, and the elders in the highest secret circles have realized the challenge posed to their dominions by technology-creating atheism and thus the two have.. merged? melded? joined forces? Something like that. Essentially what you have described.

Erast smiles at the captain and inclines his head, meeting his outstretched hand with his own; while his strength could never equal the captain's he gives as good as he receives. Politely refusing the buffet, he replies "A pleasure to see you as well this morn, Captain. I'm afraid your daughter will have to remain uncourted by me a tad longer; compared to the infinite vastness and cruelties of space she is simply far too thin and kind for me." Gesturing to his elders, he adds "I would be happy to lend aid, but I fear it will be only that a humble lowly acolyte would be able to give. But if you request I shall lay my intellect and experience to bear. What issues precisely have my honored elders raised with you, and what conflicts have resulted?"


H1

Sorry for the delay sir. I have two weeks of the semester left so it's been crunch time over here.

As you open the door, Alec gives a slight sigh, probably of relief. His eye-brows shift upward in the center as he sighs, but then relaxes to their default state, lining parallel with the frame of a mural behind him. Subtle details your keen mind notice are results of, what you've been told, a lack of clutter in your mind. Your mind is very open to all variables of information, especially more tangible outside stimuli. He nods his head up and down in response to your question, but then quickly, as if he realized something, used words to respond.

Whether you realized he was nodding "yes" is up to you, as I'd prefer you to have more control over your stage of development. But he's very overprotective of you, and so he usually goes out of his way to speak clearly. People refer to this as "coddling".

"Oh, I mean 'yes'. Water would be great, thank you." He makes his way inside and greets you like Kajiiatans do. A gentle touch on the shoulder, typically the right, though whatever shoulder is more readily available is used. It would be less ergonomic, and could disrupt people traffic, if most people restricted their greetings to a single side. There are alternative paths to the same goal; in this case, the goal of acknowledging the presence of another individual; a display of trust, indicating there is no threat to each other's well-being. Alec is of no threat to you, as he displays. Many people greet you in such a display.

After you let him in, you make your way over to your atmaprinter. This metallic and atmatitic device allows you to construct things from static atma. A cup of water is especially easy to make. Just two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen, though you add some extra minerals and vitamins, knowing what you understand about organic needs. A holographic interface displays as a pearlish-white color, though these settings can be customized. You select for a marble pitcher of water, and once it completes materalization the holographic interface retracts back into the atmatite that rest inside the device. The item materializes on a "deck" that sits to the side of the main structure, which that itself stands only about 3.5 feet tall.

Other atmaprinters like this are used, though commercially they are smaller. Larger ones exist, but they are used more by mons in space or in manufacturing buildings.

As you retrieve the water, Alec begins to speak...

"Thank you," he gulps the water down, "I wanted to get some gifts from the promenade. My wife and kids are there now. Did you care to join me? I understand if not. There's a lot of people out today, and there's even more protesters than usual. Probably because it's the day before launch. Fights have broken out in certain parts of the city, which is very rare to see in this day and age."

These groups are generally made up of purest and xenophobes. You never had an issue in Illia before, but many have come from other parts of the world to protest the launch.

K-Geography DC 10:
Typically in humanoid societies, ones environment has great influence over their behavior and world perception. Despite the great advancements in the city of Illia, and other prominent cities on both Midgar and Acceltra, there are still more rural and undeveloped areas, where small groups of people live distant lives from the majority of their worlds. People fear what they cannot comprehend, and their lack of exposure to you has caused great fear.


N/A Animi Hexcrafter Magus 2/Vivisectionist Beastmorph Alchemist 2, Perception +6, Initiative +2, AC16, FFAC 14, DR 5/Silver

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

H1 shrugged in an overly exagerrated manner.

"I will go. If I cannot survive civil unrest among an enligtened people than I cannot hope to deal with pure superstition from the primitive species we are likely to encounter."

Taking the cup from him she retrieves a simple hooded cloak that had been in style for the past month or so. At a distance she could still pass for a pale Kajiiatan and she still had other methods besides to blend further if necessary.


Kieran

You continue to giggle to yourself as you head to the retreat. His rash will only get worse now that he is even more stressed, as he believes he now has something called space clamydia. Sexually transmitted infections, the common cold, influenza, and other once common ailments, are now things of the past with aid of permachants. But the poor sap didn't know that. The placebo should calm his nerves, and reduce the irritation.

As you brush through the people that flood the paths of Illia, you eventually arrive at the bottom of the three tiered stairs that lead to the entrance of Celeborn Retreat. As the crowd parts to make way for people traffic, you see your new colleague, Raal, descend the stairs. His pace is steady and his path direct, much like his personality. You're not sure if it'd be appropriate to give a casual wave, or to even acknowledge him. But before you can even murmur a gesture of acknowledgement, he quickly notices you and gives a sharp nod and a subtle smirk, but never pausing his movement. With a sigh of reassurance, you make your way up the stairs to the lobby entrance.

I am aware that this has shifted some times around. This is fine, as I mean to assume that it is later in the day, a few hours before the reception. The time has not had a significance on anything yet so we'll just press this right along

The retreat itself sits upon a bluff that overlooks the water, providing quite an exquisite view of the coastal city that it inhabits. Passing through the courtyard, you notice how filled the area is with decorated merchant tents, musicians, fortune readers, ribbon-cantrip dancers, and even food vendors. The courtyard at the Celeborn Retreat is very large and famous for its gardens that flank the path, which is where most of the festivities in the area are occurring (along the path, not in the gardens).

You see some familiar faces as you make your way to the lobby entrance, chatting with some here and there as you will not be seeing them for quite some time. Perhaps some of these people were worth knowing better, or maybe they are just feigning a friendship for what was really an acquaintance when they consider they "know" a real space-man. Putting aside the reality of their motives, the thought of leaving these people for an undetermined amount of time instills a sense of appreciation for a person; any person. It's hard to remember that in your line of work; seeing so many people come and go. You've learned to not get too attached, though you still genuinely care for each of your patients. You made a decision then that you would see your younger brother before you left this world. He resides in the Promenade where he has a flat. You haven't seen him since he's been out of the Rehabilitation Center (prisons do not exist in this society, at least in the more developed parts of the worlds). He was known for having an ill temper, and was sent to rehab because of multiple issues of assault. You of course were never afraid of him. Most Rhaelians and Kajiiatans are martially trained to some degree. The best fighters are the best citizens; there emotions are engaged with discipline and control. Your brother always avoided the schools though, and eventually moved to another city where his string of assaults would take place.

Having made your way to your room, you don your uniform for tonight as the reception is only in a few hours. The Retreat is located in the same district at the Promenade, so a disc is not necessary to take. Passing through the people, all decorated in colors and strange costumes, some elegant, some aberrant, you make your way to Zerull Fountain, located in the center of the Promenade.

K-History DC 10:
Zerull and his band were the founders of Illia a long, long time ago. Approximately 400 years ago he made the first settlement which would develop into the greatest city on Midgar, though many historical records have been lost during the Midgar Holocaust.

The fountain displays a powerful figure, bearing dense curly hair all over his face. His elegant stone robes are masterfully crafted and give motion and life to the statues as Rhael glistens the rich minerals that inlay the stone. Three statues of men and one of a woman stand "petrified" along the perimeter of the fountain, equally spaced between each other. The blocky, structured embroidery of their outfits is very indicative of the perception the ancient Rhaelians had of their world, and even up to recent history (the Holocaust), they still endured such "cut and dry" thinking. It makes you appreciate the union that has been created between the Kajiiatans and Rhaelians, as they both lacked the way of life that the other needed to progress. And now look at where the people are. Space is now a tangible frontier.

Turning your attention from the fountain, you scope the area to locate your brother's flat, though you are not sure if he still lives there. The residential buildings curve around the fountain, and they are roughly four stories high, glistening brightly against Rhael's rays as their stone and metal work reflect the light. Blue, green, stony grey, gold, and slate colors paint the Illian landscape, and it is more obvious here in the Promenade than most other places. You pinpoint the blue-green window pane on the fourth floor of the south-standing apartment block that you believe is your bother's.

It is approximately 3:00pm, Rhael-time (only not Real-time... HO!). The Promenade has shops, a sharpshooter game, and dining among other things. Most areas have people cantrip-dancing, as it is quite a popular fad these days. I gave you a long post, but I wanted to get you up to speed in one fell swoop. If you can't tell, I'm very story driven, haha. Sorrrry. Let me know if you took your weapons with you or not, I did not want to state either way. Feel free to react to any of this stuff in your post. Thanks for you patience, buddy (see ya in two weeks, by the way!).


Erast and Raal

Hey Erast and Raal. How old are your characters? Kajiiatans age like elves.

Erast

The Captain acknowledges you as you walk in Raal with a firm press of the shoulder, but then continues his attention toward Erast to answer his question.

"Oh don't be so modest! I wouldn't have you as part of my council if I didn't respect your opinion. Besides, you represent a very quiet voice in this technozoic world. Many people feel unrepresented in the Adelene Stewardship, and true many people resent the formation of it, but the Stewardship has no traditional government, and the Avanestra and the voyage before us is something for all of humanity (humanity refers to beings of the humanoid make-up), not a merit for the CSA to claim. You represent those small voices, and I need those voices by my side to make decisions that would be in humanity's favor." He realizes that he had rambled. "Well, s!&#, Zefu (your title). You get what I mean! No pressure!" He gives a joyful smirk and a firm pat on the back that could tame the craziest of Nurintu women (a tribal female dominant society near the equator, on another continent), though a Nurintu woman you are not.

The Captain walks over to the buffet and pours himself a splash of elderberry wine (many types are available) and of course, despite you denying the offer earlier, he waves a gesture of offering with his glass (he's clearly inspired by my grandma). He pauses his speech so he may deliberately choose the words to say. It must be something important...

"But, despite your capabilities, your elders think it's best that another acolyte joins the crew. Not sure if you know her, but she's Rhaelian. Born from a city on the other side of Midgar called V'tolik." The Captain looks down at his wine and swigs it back as he severed the eye-contact he had maintained with you. She's..... eeeaasy to get along with...."

Sense Motive DC 10:
He definitely doesn't think she's easy to get a long with.

Your Elders look at the captain with judging eyes, and then slowly they pan their heads toward you, giving a look that could say so much.

Sense Motive DC 15 orrr...:
They certainly find the Captain's relaxed attitude as unfitting for his position, but the look they give you is of concern. Most likely for yourself as you are one of the only members of your group on the ship, aside from more moderate civilians.

Sense Motive DC 20:
You are well aware of the judging eyes of the Elders, and you feel all six eyes pierce you (there's three of them I believe we stated). You definitely sense a lack of trust from them.

Raal, feel free to make a check for these as well because you can always mention the information to Erast at another time. If you guys roll above 20, you get both of the spoilers.

Raal

You patiently watch the conversation unfold. The Captain takes notice and without asking, pours you a glass of the elderberry wine. Topping his off, he walks over and sits next to you at the table. "Eh, we'll let them duke it out. It's barely a CSA matter. Lets enjoy this alchemy..."

He sips his wine and then pivots himself to face you more. He bares a powerful presence when he converses, as his focus heightens on these conversations he seems to love so much. He says with a smirk, "Well, lets get to know you more, shall we? And don't you tell me what I want to hear. You're a commendable soldier, a Magi at that, so I'm sure there's more to you than just a war hero. Do you have any family?"

Whether you have family or not is up to you, Raal. One person in your life that was like a father figure was Ayerkahn (equal to lieutenant) Nemo, a Magi you had served under. You saved him from the battlefield when he was wounded, and took command of the group during the Skirmish that you are famous for. Also, I will list some questions that the Captain will ask, just so you can post your answers all at once. This conversation is taking place at the same time Erast is conversing with his Elders.

"What about your years out of the military? Your record says you only served two years. What have you been up to the past ___ years?" Not sure how old you are so I left it blank for now

"Do you enjoy playing modus? I'm not one to brag, but I'm rather keen at it. Great for the mind. Strange how our brains can process information in such similar fashions to where a Kajiiatan and a Rhaelian can enjoy a complex game as modus. Many Kajiiatans have taken a liking to it. I'm sure we'll play plenty during the long arduous moments that come with exploring the unknown."

Modus is a strategy game, similar to chess in our world, but slightly more complex with more pieces, more layers, and more moves available.

The Captain's personal and genuine approach to you is something you haven't felt in a while. Usually when one is in uniform, people fall into rank and identify themselves with a role. The Captain seems to see right through the uniform. Perhaps it's a strategy he uses to better command his subordinates or to maintain morale among the crew. Just as you ponder his intentions, a Kajiiatan donned in a Magi uniform enters the room. You recognize him as your old Lieutenant, Nemo. His uniform is warn in near perfect form (as perfect as Kajiiatan eyes can tell), and it shines with royal blue base with silver embroidery of swirling vines. It's apparent where the influence for the CSA uniform came from.

"Thrak'el Raal'orn..." He looks as if he's about to say something but then you notice his eyes lock onto a part of your person, "your suit... Well it's certainly off. Why all that cumbersome armor? You'll compromise your balance and worst yet, you'll wrinkle the suit. If you were still my subordinate, you know exactly where I'd put you for such lack of attention." His stern face turns to the Captain, which then turns to a grin, "Sul, Captain Sigma". He grasps his left-shoulder with his right hand and bows slightly toward the Captain, a less casual Kajiiatan greeting. The Captain reciprocates, and welcomes him to the table.


Btw, not that it's really important, but I imagine Northland sounding like a hybrid of Australian and Scottish. Like Fang (though FFXII can S a D in my O...pinion.


Mathesar Leesma wrote:

Memory check: 1d20

After enough awkward silence passes that A.S. Sigma is out of earshot, Mathesar says "I can explain. Sort of. I woke up in this dress and couldn't find my clothes. What should I have done - ganked someone else's and made them decided whether to walk home naked or in a dress?"

Diplomacy: 1d20+9

Perhaps I should've left the dress and trusted that I could get home before I ran out of Disguise Selfs to cover my nakedness, he thinks. I probably shouldn't mention that option to her.

EDIT: the dice seem to realize it's a lame excuse ;)

Haha. Yup! The dice know all...

Her attitude does not seem to budge, as she turns her head around to give you a stink eye that says without words It's more than the dress a+%@~*@!

Learning the female language has always been difficult. Few men can master Passivagressinese but your experience with women has given you more intuition when interacting with them.

"You tried to escape me! Sneaking out in a disguise like that... I know what my own clothes look like! And you're stretching that fabric! If that skirt doesn't fit, the Proteans better come back real quick to save your ass from me!" You were certain she had not told you exactly what the problem is. She could probably care less about the skirt.

K-Nature DC 10:
The female species has always been a mystery to man. Even with all the scientific understandings of today, the female society and social strata is complex and aberrant indeed.

After a slight pause, she starts to speak again, "Don't think because you don't remember that I have forgotten. You promised me everything. You said you'd take me to the stars and all over galaxy, watching sunsets on every planet that we find...." You feel her body-heat increase in temperature as she angrily accelerates the strider.

Memory DC 10:
You're pretty certain that you were referring to the Deoxul and what fascinating endeavors you'll encounter, only she paraphrased what you said heavily. This happened while you were at the Lake House.

"Well, you can't just hop on a ship and get away that easy. I can have a position", she emphasizes, "...any position on the Avanestra anytime I want. I graduated from the CSA Academy a year ago with a degree in xenobiology and I have already had my application accepted, though I turned down the opportunity. But now that I know that there is a life for me in space, it seems all to worth it... You opened up my mind, Mathee. I never connected with someone so wondrous as you. How can you expect me to just let you go like that?"

Times like these make you realize the price you pay for being charismatic... you develop "fans"...

As you approach the city, the path you were on gradually becomes more developed and busier with people, either on their own striders or cars (Obviously not the type of car we would know) but walking mostly. She abruptly stops and drops you off at the bottom of the grand stairs that lead to an entrance hub in Anchor Center. The forest grows right up to the entrance, though looking up you see many networks of smaller catwalks and pathways that "brachiate" through the network of trees. Even residential homes or entire communities exist in these habitats, for those that prefer life away from the city. You direct your thoughts back to Ryanne, as she gives you a cute smirk and says softly, with the perfect dash of spice...

"See you at the reception. I'll need that skirt back though."

You can take 10 on this check and get it automatically.

K-local DC 10:
Luckily for you, this is the future. It may not have been really apparent, but it is entirely acceptable and protected under the Adelene Constitution that any person(s) are allowed to live their life in their own skin at any times. Social acceptance is entirely at the discretion of those that would be offended, though many people have little to no problem with it. It is especially uncommon to see people go about their everyday business in any type of shoe. Just to demonstrate how people rebuke their clothes more. This does not mean people would show up at the reception naked, as it would be dominantly considered just inappropriate to the theme of the reception. But there are no qualms over conducting everyday errands with minimal clothing.

You're welcome to respond to anything that she has said. Congrats! You have your own psycho hose beasts ;) "Hiiiii Waaaayne....Hiiiii" Also, after your next post, we can hit the "T" button and Wait two hours until the reception, unless there was something you wanted to do in the city before hand.


Harbinger One wrote:

1d20+5

H1 shrugged in an overly exagerrated manner.

"I will go. If I cannot survive civil unrest among an enligtened people than I cannot hope to deal with pure superstition from the primitive species we are likely to encounter."

Taking the cup from him she retrieves a simple hooded cloak that had been in style for the past month or so. At a distance she could still pass for a pale Kajiiatan and she still had other methods besides to blend further if necessary.

You and Alec make your way through the jubilant crowd, absorbing the scenery as you take the short walk to the Promenade. The colors and cantrip-lighting overwhelm your senses, but it is not overbearing. It is serene. Like being in a world made by a child's imagination. (Heh heh...)

These moments of great stimulation make you wonder if this is what people feel like when they dream. A smattering of biochemicals burst through their brain and create surreal environments that the mind engages in. You "awaken" as you hear Alec calling out to you, as he had unknowingly walked further ahead as you paused to think. He usually refers to you as "Marina" when you are in disguise, knowing that your fame could attract unwanted attention, especially from the disgruntled groups that are protesting the launch.

I took the name Marina from Marina and the Diamonds, a singer who has a song called "I am Not a Robot". I thought it'd be fitting :). But if you don't dig it, feel free to change it.

GMtsuga only por favor:
X 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (7) - 3 = 4

As you begin to close the 20.4572 meters between you and Alec....

Perception DC 10:
Near the top-right corner of your field of view, you notice a rock, approximately 5 inches in diameter, allowing you time to react. You can deflect it if you have the appropriate ability or roll a Reflex save DC 10 to step out of its trajectory.

If you fail...:
A rock approximately 5 inches in diameter clunks you on the head, where it came from you are not exactly sure. You DMG reduction cancels the any damage that would have accrued.

As you search the area for the origin of the rock, a group of people that bear displays of opposition organizations appear before you. There is approximately six of them, none of which seem that threatening. No attention has been drawn by the majority of the crowd as of now. One steps slightly forward and speaks in a commanding voice...

"And you're the worst of them all! You're an abomination! People care for you like a child of their own creation. Well you're not! You were never meant to be. What other abominations will we create in space? What other deviants will we uncover!? You're a beast. A mon of little value. No more than a mule!" He spits at the ground near your feet. More gather around, and eventually you become slightly surrounded. They begin to chant, "Rhael for Rhaelians! Rhael for Rhaelians!" He is instigating the crowd; such a display of aggression has not been seen in such great numbers in Illia for a long time. But most of these are not Illian citizens.

You hear Alec call to you, though he cannot make his way through the dense group that has gathered around you. The other people in the area are unsure of how to handle the situation, but some begin arguing with the protesters surrounding you to let you go.


Kieran, you are welcome to see this and react to it at anytime. This begins to happen before you enter the apartment building. You would be considered outside of the protesters' little people-circle-fortress that they made around H1. You are not able to see that it's H1, but you see the protesters begin to get more rowdy and heated arguments beginning to take place between the people and the protesters.


N/A Animi Hexcrafter Magus 2/Vivisectionist Beastmorph Alchemist 2, Perception +6, Initiative +2, AC16, FFAC 14, DR 5/Silver

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18 Perception
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15 Reflex

No deflect arrows. However...

Harbinger One catches the unskilled rock throw with no apparent effort on her part. Staring hard at the rock thrower Harbinger one simply crushes the stone into smaller chunks in her hand letting them fall back to the ground to join back with the ground where it belons. In the fraction of a second H1 calculates numerous different trajectories, movement patterns and exposed soft tissue within easy reach of her hands. It occurs to her quite briefly that she could easily incapacitate or kill her attackers in less time and with more guaranteed results than attempting a logical discussion. Rather than waste the time or risk a severe reprimand for excessive self defense H1 elects to combine the two. In a calm calculated voice with the slightest hint of edge H1 addresses the instigator. While doing so she continues walking forward towards her destination with all the care and inevitability of an oncoming avalanche.

"I am not Rhaelian. I am however designed to survive environments so harsh as to melt the flesh from the average Rhaelians bones and deadlift nearly 800lbs from myself while simultaneously solving K'van Atmatic Closed System Equations three at a time. Whether or not I'm an abomination is irrelevant. What should matter to you at this very instant is that you have attempted to harm this entity and it is heading straight through you regardless of what you believe Rhael is for."

Excessive self defense is now a thing. :)


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3
GM Tsuga canadensis wrote:
You can take 10 on this check and get it automatically.

Or I can roll and get it automatically... Is taking 10 on Knowledge checks something I can do whenever?

K-Nature: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34
Memory: 1d20 ⇒ 13
K-local: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (3) + 16 = 19

GM Tsuga canadensis wrote:
But now that I know that there is a life for me in space, it seems all to worth it... You opened up my mind, Mathee. I never connected with someone so wondrous as you. How can you expect me to just let you go like that?

"What a strange thing is woman! / What a whirlwind is her head, / And what a whirlpool full of depth and danger / Is all the rest about her" quotes Mathesar to himself. I seem to have no good options. Saying nothing might be the least bad.

GM Tsuga canadensis wrote:

You direct your thoughts back to Ryanne, as she gives you a cute smirk and says softly, with the perfect dash of spice...

"See you at the reception. I'll need that skirt back though."

Mathesar flamboyantly removes the dress, revealing... nothing. He looks no different after removing the dress than before. Five minutes before arriving at Anchor Center, he drank his extract of Disguise Self and disguised himself as himself; he then removed the real dress. He hands the real dress to her, winks, and walks back to his room in the illusionary one.

She can make a DC 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (20) + 19 = 39 perception check to pierce the disguise (which would probably give you a headache if he's wearing both dresses) or a DC 16 Will save to disbelieve the illusion.


Erast smiles at the captain's enthusiasm and claps him on the back once to indicate that he shares it as well.

Sense motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Erast nods, picking up on some aspect of the Captain's true feelings. "If my honored elders wish it, and this woman is as... easygoing... as you suggest, then I cannot but agree that she should be a part of this great venture. The great pleasure of meeting my fellow souls on the ship aside, it would be a relief I admit to have a colleague as well."

Sensing... something in his elders' gaze, Erast concentrates and listens carefully to the reverberations on the strings connecting him to the others in the room.

Manifest empathy


Erast wrote:

Erast smiles at the captain's enthusiasm and claps him on the back once to indicate that he shares it as well.

Sense motive 1d20+3

Erast nods, picking up on some aspect of the Captain's true feelings. "If my honored elders wish it, and this woman is as... easygoing... as you suggest, then I cannot but agree that she should be a part of this great venture. The great pleasure of meeting my fellow souls on the ship aside, it would be a relief I admit to have a colleague as well."

Sensing... something in his elders' gaze, Erast concentrates and listens carefully to the reverberations on the strings connecting him to the others in the room.

Manifest empathy

Cool! I like that ability.

Inconspicuously you atmatically heighten your senses. The physical thoughts and emotions radiating from the surrounding bodies is peaceful within it's chaos. The Captain exudes intent wonder as he converses with Raal. (Raal can provide his own emotional state if he chooses) You feel much more gravity from your elders. A sort of sunken feel in the pressure around them. This gives you a sensation of doubt or uncertainty.

One of your Elders, who you know as Cardinal Trinimac, a high ranking priest within the Sect, a direct subordinate of the Arch-Hierophant Xeta. You have met her on a handful of occasions during your service in the sect, but rarely does she make public appearances. She's a powerful being, both politically and with atma, but you've always known her to be benevolent. Trinimac is loyal to the Sect, but tends to play Devil's Advocate when it comes to advising Xeta, which she appreciates and sees as necessary in order to make proper decisions.

Trinimac stands slightly shorter than you, with an ornate staff containing a hunk of atmatite at the terminus. Him and his subordinates wear traditional purple and black velvet-like robes, though they bear more cloth to demonstrate rank. The symbol of the Sect that is inlaid on the chest of their robes is of a humanoid figure (deliberately designed without a lot of detail) flanked by two branches from different trees (one native to Acceltra and one to Midgar) that encompass the figure. Above the figure is an enlarged "^", though the "legs" of the upside-down V curve slightly outward. The figure holds close to the center of its body an orb. Most symbols leave this part of the symbol hollow for symbolic purposes, but higher ranking clergy tend to occupy the space with a piece of atmatite. The plant from Midgar is a rhododendron, and the Acceltran plant is called a corelus, which is similar to a rhododendron on Midgar but the leaves are more tear-drop shaped and the blossoms bloom multiple colors on a single plant (its far different from a rhododendron as you can imagine, but if there was something to compare it to that'd be it).

Trinimac looks you in the eye to converse with you, saying in slight surprise, "Erast, my son. You are too understanding. A good quality it is to have, to know when to ask for help. Our pontiff (the Arch-Hierophant) certainly did what she could to push your application through to the CSA. She must have seen a lot of potential in you. Regardless, sharing your duties with a strong individual should ensure your performance if anything. Our pontiff has also asked me to deliver this to you....

He pulls out of a pocket located somewhere in the folds of his robes an amulet, bearing the symbol of the Sect with the Martyr encircled by the ornate branches, clasping an orb of atmatite in the center. As he presents the amulet, the other elders with him bless the amulet, then so does Trinimac.

[b]"In the eyes of the Martyr; the great secret holder of the universe and creator of Atma; witness the ascension of Acolyte Erast of the Void. He enters a new consciousness, a new medium of transcendence which draws us ever close to you. Reach out for him, and guide him a long the path, for he is now Guide of the Void. Er'desis, v'tli et vono." (old Rhaelian tongue. Used to end a religious statement or passage. Means: Ascendance, come upon us).

Cardinal Trinimac has bestowed upon you an amulet from the Arch-Hierophant, which signifies your promotion within the ranks of the Sect. You are hereby titled Guide within the Sect, granting you the privilege to conduct sermons and appoint acolytes.

The Captain overhears the conversation and quickly detours from talking with Raal to congratulate you on your promotion.

"Our pontiff had requested you be appointed an advanced position. Believe in your amulet, Erast. These are more than just crystals, as atmatite is a way for us to interact with the Guide. You'll know what this means soon enough. I hope you remember to stay in touch. Is there any kin I should deliver parting words to?"

You may respond to this post and thus, conclude this part before the reception. So next post would be during the reception, more than likely later in the evening. Trinimac leaves you with....

"Embrace your realm, Erast. May ascension come upon you."

Rewards:

Amulet of the Guide - +1 Armor bonus to AC.

Promotion
Acolye => Guide (Priest)

Lvl 2 => Lvl 3 (beam of light strikes you from the sky)


Erast clasps the amulet in his hand and, to his surprise, his inner eye perceives it to be made entirely of strings. As he realizes this he looks up and for a single moment so is everybody and everything, all just strings to be plucked and shaped and channeled and the moment is gone, and everything as it is. What... what was that...

Shaking his epiphany away, Erast bows deeply to the Sect leaders. "You honor me, sirs, Captain. I shall seek to prove worth of this trust." Lifting the amulet up over his head, it shines brightly upon his chest.

Erast hesitates again, thinking of Master Theirn, but finally shakes his head. "I do appreciate the offer, but no, I have no kin I would deliver words to. May ascension come upon all of us."


Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2

Raal sits at his place and stares at Earst and the Captain exchange words, completely oblivious to the more subtle meanings of their conversation, the name V'tolik meant nothing to him but he filed the name away for later anyway.

When the captain takes a seat next to him he earns Raal's complete attention, Raal maintains his straight-backed sitting position, his back not touching the chair, he turns his head to follow the captain and his amber eyes meet the captains unflinching.

"Family? Yes, I have family." Raal begins slowly after a moments pause. "My father is a glass blower and my mother a singer in the Oblong Opera, both of modest repute. I was raised with art and beauty but never show an ounce of talent myself. I did however have a talent for atma and a will to fight for what I believed in and so it was readily apparent for me to join the army, Kajiit is not free of it's dissidents no more than this world as I learnt serving under Ayerkahn Nemo. But then You'd already know all that as it is in my file."

Kajiiatans age like elves so let's make him 133-ish, adulthood is at 110-ish so he'd have joined the army at that, with training and service let's make his time spent there 8 years (the open record anyway) rather than 2 giving a 15 year blank.

"My service showed me allot of things captain, some cruel and unforgettable as you well know yourself, some inspiring and wonderful, but after special operations training and the two years I served with them I needed to think. To organize what I had seen and re-assert my beliefs. I went 'lema', on a walkabout, for some time."

Raal stares at the captain at his offer of modus but gives a slight nod and a promise of 'some other time perhaps'.

When Nemo walks in Raal stands up respectfully and gives a military salute to his old lieutenant. Standing straight at his berrations Raal gives a half smile and relaxes a little and meets his eye. "Yes sir, I do, sir. The armor provides protection sir, if you know how to use it, something you could do with if I recall correctly sir." Smiling at the lieutenants withering glare Raal mutters a 'good to see you' and takes his seat again when Nemo's attentions turn to the captain.


Harbinger One wrote:

1d20+6 Perception

1d20+5 Reflex

No deflect arrows. However...

Harbinger One catches the unskilled rock throw with no apparent effort on her part. Staring hard at the rock thrower Harbinger one simply crushes the stone into smaller chunks in her hand letting them fall back to the ground to join back with the ground where it belons. In the fraction of a second H1 calculates numerous different trajectories, movement patterns and exposed soft tissue within easy reach of her hands. It occurs to her quite briefly that she could easily incapacitate or kill her attackers in less time and with more guaranteed results than attempting a logical discussion. Rather than waste the time or risk a severe reprimand for excessive self defense H1 elects to combine the two. In a calm calculated voice with the slightest hint of edge H1 addresses the instigator. While doing so she continues walking forward towards her destination with all the care and inevitability of an oncoming avalanche.

"I am not Rhaelian. I am however designed to survive environments so harsh as to melt the flesh from the average Rhaelians bones and deadlift nearly 800lbs from myself while simultaneously solving K'van Atmatic Closed System Equations three at a time. Whether or not I'm an abomination is irrelevant. What should matter to you at this very instant is that you have attempted to harm this entity and it is heading straight through you regardless of what you believe Rhael is for."

Excessive self defense is now a thing. :)

The protesters take a couple shuffles back away from you upon crushing the rock. The "alpha" of the group continues to attempt rallying the crowd as they're shaken with fear.

"Don't you see!? The Mon threatens us lesser humans. It has no regard for humanoid lives! It uses fear to put us in our place!" The crowd is mostly unresponsive to him and refuse to agitate you further out of fear. You ponder his statement, and begin cross-referencing his accusations with his behavior, and are 99% confident that his evident behavior toward your person makes him guilty of his accusations. You may respond if you'd like to the instigator's dialogue.

Conflicts along the perimeter of the surrounding protesters begin to escalate more, though one has to push a native Illian pretty far to get them to commit violence. The crowd in favor of you begin reciting rights from the Adelene Constitution toward the protesters, a popular form of defense for suppressing aggressive situations....

"You cannot contain her like that! You are invoking confinements which violate her rights by preventing her from moving like that!" or "By throwing stones at her, you grant her Defensive Amendments, but she still restrains herself from hurting you! How can you doubt that she has compassion?"

You know from law and from experience how crimes are handled in Illia. The Rhaelians do not possess a full-time military or police force, but have what's called the Citizens' Defense Force (C.D.F.). Many citizens are members and go through Academies and boot camps to get the required training, and then still attending drills throughout their service. Most citizens in Illia are members, and they make up the bulk of the military as well. Should this situation escalate more, the citizens here will peacefully and responsibly suppress the situation, and free you from the elitist protesters.

I'm just going to speed this through if you don't mind buddy, but feel free to respond to any of this in your closing post for this segment

The protesters are noticeably demoralized after you crumbled the rock into dust. The "alpha" begins to show extreme frustration. His eyebrows sit much closer to his eyes, his fair skin burns red with blood, and his teeth grin in anger. He seems upset that you have humiliated him, aside from generally despising your existence.

"WHAT!? Where are you all going!? Don't let this demon control your lives! Fight! Fight for the purity of your souls! Remove this taint that has sullied your heat's courage!"

Some heads turn in a moment of inspiration, but soon they look back at you and quickly remember why they chose to leave you alone. "Alpha", beet red with frustration, lets out a scream and quickly pivots, facing you. He draws a pistol from the inside of his vestment and points it directly at your face (and is within range, so he provokes and attack of opportunity from you...)

React how you will to him drawing the gun. But simultaneously during your round, the surrounding citizens have made their way closer to you and that can see the "alpha" draw his pistol, you here a chorus of weapons being drawn and pointed directly at him. The clicking and winding noises, and even some rising beep notes from some newer models, fill the air almost immediately during your reaction.

Just so I can move this along, H1, after this situation is settled in your next post, this is what happens...

Having finally been able to catch up with Alec, his wife (Hanna), and his daughter (Ashlynn [I think we said daughter... :\], you are greeted warmly and as if you were a family. It may be hard to react to these situations sometimes, but these people are very trustworthy and have always been there for you. You've met Hanna and Ashlynn several times, and as always, Ashlynn runs over to you to give a leaping-hug.

She embraces you and immediately begins asking questions, hoping that you weren't hurt by the angry scary man. Her father walks over, brushing Ashlynn's hair and bending down closer to speak to her...

"Ashlynn, sweety. Don't you have something you want to give to Prima? I'm sure it'll make her feel better." She looks at her father with her big brown eyes and nods her head up and down. She pulls around her a tiny handbag, and pulls out of it a decent looking ring. It bares in its center an amethyst, though its off-color indicates to you that it's been modified. Alec begins to speak to you...

"Ashlynn made the ring, with a little help from her dad :), but that stone is from Jules. Oh, also..." he pauses his voice and slips the ring on your finger, as your thin plates on your finger spread and make room for the ring to inlay. It locks into place. You feel a strange surge of weightlessness, but you soon adjust and feel normal. Like those dreams you sometimes have when you are falling. "He always meant to give it to you at some point, but he waited too long. I don't know really how it feels or what it means to you, but I know I'd be sad, or maybe even angry if my father left without even saying anything. But, anyways... this stone should come in handy. It augments your properties. This one in particular decreases your gravity, or rather increases your response to electromagnetism during times of weitghlessness. He created this stone using a new type of refraction process, where the structure of the atmatite can alter over time. New studies have shown that atma can respond to very subtle things, such as our intents or our experiences. It presumably occurs all around us at a very slow rate. But this new process tailors the atmatites behavior to respond only to a specific source. In this case, that source is you. Carry it with you, always. I'm not sure if we'll ever see you again, Prima. But we'll stay in touch. And who knows? We may just transport ourselves to the Avanestra one day for a vacation." He smiles softly.

His stature seems to change. He, at one point in your relationship with him, seems to be what's called an "underdog". A subordinate. A server of others. But here, in this image, his arms sacrificed from himself to be comforting both his wife and his child, he is a leader. He cares for this family and they look to him for guidance and leadership. You also never noticed his size. He's taller than average, with a large frame, but somehow, he always seemed so small. He and his family come intimately closer to you, and embrace you, much like they usually do, but for approximately 43.54 seconds longer....

"Again, I'm not sure what this means to you. But we want you to know that we love you and consider you our family. Should you ever need us, you can call us whenever. Farewell, Prima."

After your response to this post, we will conclude this segment and begin you at the reception. Raal's segment I can hopefully finish tonight. It shant take long.

Rewards:

Ashlynn's Band: Feather fall. Constant effect.

Level 2 => Level 3


N/A Animi Hexcrafter Magus 2/Vivisectionist Beastmorph Alchemist 2, Perception +6, Initiative +2, AC16, FFAC 14, DR 5/Silver

H1 seeing the practical armory of weapons being drawn looks about her impassively. Then addressing the man she states in that ever present calm.

"Pardon me, I have an event to attend."

Woth that she simply steps past him and through the heavily armed crowd.

Later H1 remains silent throughout the exchange merely observing. Yet strange feelings of affection crept up. Unfortunately appropriate reactiosn never really clicked into place. Rather than attempt some kind of awkwardly worded response H1 simply wrapped her arms carefully around them and shared the embrace.

She never thought of her "father" if such a word could be used for him. Designing her, doing most of the raw engineering and magical work, putting her together piece by piece. Then leaving her to her own devices to face some unknowable fate in the dark void of a cold and dark universe. By this definition would that not make him God?


Raal

Since this is the third time I"ve had to make this post, I will abbreviate it. I'm sorry buddy. I"m just furious with this thing right now. I had so much written down.

The Captain enjoys talking about your family and mentions he has a fraternal twin brother, a younger sister, and a daughter. His wife is deceased from an unknown ailment, which is very uncommon given today's medical advancements. He also expresses sentiment over the emotions of war, and how living a life outside of those environments is confusing and difficult. He says the hardest part about the Midgar Holocaust was transitioning from a life of constantly looking over your shoulder for an abomination or raider, to a life of serene peacefulness and little conflict.

Ayerkahn Nemo walks into the rooom (continuing from last post)....

He says you can be at ease because he is no longer your superior. He endorses you thoroughly to the Captain, referencing the time during the Borderland Wars when you not only saved his life, but went against orders and turned the tide of battle, sabotaging the opposition's plans to destroy Kajiiata. Aside from the compliments, he had other purposes for visiting you. He pulls out of his pocket a necklace with a colorful glass charm, which encases a shard of crimson atmatite, and also a data-shard (a thin, prismatic, glassy chip composed of rare-earths and atmatite that carries electrical information). The data-shard can be accessed with any refractor (a device used for accessing stored electrical information).

He bids you farewell, and expressed his parents longing and concern for you. He says should you ever need his advice, you can hail him at any time.

Sorry for the skimpy post bud. It feels like an essay was deleted from me, ya know? But anyways, everyone's next post will be in one post, because you all will be together at the reception (except Xan). Thank you all for your patience and I hope the holidays treated you well. I got a shillelagh :)

Rewards:

Raal Lvl 2=>3

Items

Mother's Data-shard

Father's charm: New form of atmatite that "evolves" with its wielder. It's behavior changes in accordance with the sole wielder's resonance. This charm grants you the ability to recall any 1st level spell once per day, that has been cast that day.


Male Rhaelian Alchemist (Internal Alchemist, Mindchemist, Psychonaut) 3 // Bard (Archivist) 3

Mathesar posts the hat back to Ryanne with a short note explaining that he forgot to return it with the dress. He then draws a hot bath - a water bath, rather than an atmatic one or the exotic oil, sand, or sonic ones he has just in case alien societies have differing ideas of cleanliness.

How do I know he didn't see right through my disguise and called me a girl just to be polite? thinks Mathesar as he soaks in his bath. Modern society certainly makes getting good feedback on disguises complicated.


Raal follows dispassionately along through the conversation with the Captain. He understood that the Captain wanted to know the crew, any good commander would, but Raal couldn't help wondering if the Captain was just talking to cover up his nervousness. This was a great undertaking, arguably the greatest one in the joint races history, and to have the responsibility of leading it, well, if the Captain was only nervous at the prospect then that showed that his nerves were made of mithral. Flexible yet harder than steel.

Hearing his former lieutenant support him wholeheartedly comes as a surprise to Raal, he had been afraid that he would be resentful, thinking Raal had stolen his glory or sum such nonsense. Raal couldn't help but feel relieved at his endorsement.

Accepting the offered gifts from his parents Raal slips the necklace around his neck, tucking the glass charm down his collar to rest against his skin, and slips the data-shard into his breast-pocket, patting it he gives a slight bow and thanks him whole-heartedly for bearing such precious gifts to him and wows to keep them safe and close to his person.

Level up. Awesome? I'll get cracking but I might take you up on the offer to alter the character (Raal's classes that is, not his character;P). I'm flaky like that.

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