Character Creation Chain

Hear my prayer, O Ka'al the Mighty and Glorious, Lord of the Shining Realms, Slayer of Enemies, Compassionate Lover of the Nine Virtuous Maidens of Heaven! Ye whose breath is as the perfumed gardens of Paradise, whose footsteps are thunder, whose wrath makes the wicked to tremble! Speak to your servant and say: what have you done for me lately?

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Rith Brazzel
 
Rith Brazzel

He turned his head towards the sound down the hallway. It was a slow scratching. The hall was dark; the light from the television in the room behind him glowed enough to cast odd shadows. John knew there could be nothing in that room - that nothing lived in there. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, images flashed behind his eyelids.

Blood...tears....then quiet.

He opened his eyes and put his hand to his quick beating heart. The pain would go away again; it always did. John waited until he couldn't hear the scratching for a few minutes and turned his back to the hallway.

Rith Brazzel wasn't coming back. Blond hair, slender hips, pursed lips...he wondered what she looked like now. He shook his head at the thought. She would not look good, after being buried under his bedroom floorboards for the past five years.

He sat down and turned the channel to the Animal Kingdom -animals always calmed him. They killed to survive and so had he. He understood animals.

Just as he was about to doze off he heard it again...scratch....scratch. He would need the pills tonight.


Tria the Honorable
 
Best contract-mistress in all the three cities! Tria the Honourable has her scriptorium down on Gold Street in Delegor, next door to Dorna's Armoury and across from the Gold Street Alehouse. Beginning her career as a humble apprentice under contract-master Norb-of-the-Pen, Tria has been in business for over thirty years representing clients in law and crafting elegant, nay, beautiful contractual agreements between even the bitterest of rivals. Her contacts span the entire Kingdom and beyond, allowing her to foster no only negotiations within the realm but also affordable exporting to the neighbouring lands. Beneath her offices, it is said, is a library of over 1500 documents spanning over three hundred years of contractual law connected with some of the major ruling families of Delagor, yet Tria has never used these to blackmail (as would be expected by such powerful contract-masters) any client into more favourable terms for herself.

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Emperor Haishon-twae
 
Emperor Haishon-twae looked back on the three millenia of his rule. It had been a good time for the realm, mostly. Not many wars or rebelllions, more periods of prosperity than famine. His trillions of subjects, about half of them human, seemed like a pleasant lot overall. Oh, there were always a few bad apples, humans or mechs or extras who tried to start revolutions or assasinate him, but that was part of the job. He was glad that the Controller had selected him for the position, so long ago. Now it was time to walk into the cycler, and find out what his next life had in store.

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Penny Lavon
 
Penny Lavon was, during her early days a master tomb-raider. Her parents, Russian Jews, had emigrated to Israel during the early days and Penny had grown up partly in the east and partly in America. Capitolizing on the fall of the Byzantine Empire into the various fiefdoms belonging to European nations, Penny found herself working more and more in British South Arabia with frequent trips into the lands formerly belonging to the Nestorian Khanate. Rubbing elbows with Zoroastrian priests and Turkic warlords, Penny eventually made the defining discovery of her lifetime by finding the long lost Tomb of Shah Darius IX, who ruled the old Persian Empire from 798 - 840. It was on this dig and exploration that Penny would meet the love of her life, an Anatolian adventurer Apollonius Frederick. After decades of work and adventure, Penny and her Apo moved to America and lived out their lives in a tiny town in Connecticut.

---

Blugo-el-Jeeknaw
 
Blugo-el-jeeknaw. The name says it all, folks. He's not from around here. When he sidled up to the tavern last May, no one knew quite what to expect. Black skin shining, white teeth glinting, he stuck out like a sore thumb, sounded like one too, with that thick accent of his. Being the nicest guy in town, I bought him a drink, tried to convince him to leave as quick as he came. But he wouldn't listen, was convinced that there was money in this sand, yet. He talked about ore deposits to the east. I thought he was crazy, so I shut him up before anybody else heard him talking that nonsense. And now he's the richest man on this side of the border. Can't believe it even if I try.

****

Archer Leonid
 
Archer Leonid - He's a interstellar space pirate with a price on his head from fourteen different systems, and his Overlord is breathing down his neck because he 'forgot' to drop off his latest prize: an egg from the Gorgon Mountains of Dinfolaz. The fabulous beast it becomes is coveted by the Emperor, and worth more than the price of the fastest ship in the fleet. He doesn't look that prepossessing, and eyes can slide off him as if he was never there in the room at all, and it's a skill he's taken to the highest level, but if you do manage to catch sight of him, he's distinctly average. Medium build, nut-brown hair, grey eyes, and a full, warm mouth are not the features of anyone to capture attention... unless he wants it. Then, well he's as vibrant as a well-played guitar.

*****

Jennifer Glover
 
When the one hundreth anniversary of the Academy Awards arrived, hardly anyone expected the highest honors to go to AI generated holos. The technology was still considered something of a gimmick, not unlike the forgotten fads for Cinerama or Sensurround or old-fashioned 3-D that required special viewers. As the computer-generated holostar Jennifer Glover walked up the aisle (if a three dimensional illusion can be said to "walk") to accept the awards for best actress and best actor (since the highly adaptable performer could be electronically manipulated to imitate either sex), the audience knew that history was being made.

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Ty Camberston
 
The young warrior entered the arena, gloveball in one hand, duelling mace in the other. Ty Camberston, the newcomer, eyed the lumbering figure of the Golem approaching him. Smirking, he put his duelling hood up over his head and crouched down into form five, the stone frog. The Golem did not seem to match the form, instead just standing there, breathing heavily. The crowd was going wild, from all corners came a cacophany of calls to attack. The Golem had ruled the arena for too long, it was now time for a new star to ascend. The Golem bowed ever so slightly and began his charge, his armour clattering as he barrelled down on Ty. Ty leaped to the left and missed the Golem's charge. The Golem roared in anger and turned, his mace swinging through the air and down in a crushing angle. Sadly for the Golem, Ty was too agile... he looked a weakling but his strength was all in his legs and the boy just leaped out of the way. After a few more turns like that, the Golem was beginning to feel tired. Usually by now his opponent was a messy piece of meat being taken away to be tended to. His armour, mostly decorative this late in his career, weighed a ton and he felt every piece of plate smack against the next. The two opponents faced each other again, the crowd roaring with approval and outrage at the scene below. This Ty character was not fighting, he was merely evading...shouted some. In the atmosphere of the arena, the two opponents were alone. In his mind, the Golem could hear the younger Ty...they were alone, speaking.

You've had a long run Hadral, I won't be beaten..give up honourably...

"I will not give in to you, boy!" The Golem roared, raising his mace high in the air he charged, every ounce of his remaining energy ready to smash this kid into the sand. A dash, a quick movement, and the Golem felt himself falling. His nose crunched as the ground came up to meet him. his mace kicked away from his stunned arms. One little tap on the head, and it was all over. The Golem had lost by something as simple as being tripped. Ty Camberston, the son of a ferrier was victorious, and the crowd was going wild.

It was his first victory that came back to Ty as he faced his last defeat. You've had a long run Ty, it's time to be defeated... accept honourably. The newcomer thought as he faced the famous Ty Camberston in the arena. The heavy plate armour was wearing down Ty as he began his last charge... the crowd was ready to see a new champion on this day.

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Margrave of Pelops
 
Thunder shook the ground beneath his feet and he trembled as the ecstasy of power coursed through him.

Margrave of Pelops, the outcast, the dimwit, had just become the first Potentiaex in a thousand years. The grey rags hanging from his scarecrow shoulders billowed to life, smouldering with angry orange embers, and lightning coursed up and down his spindly arms. His eyes sunk to blackened pits and his hair fell from his bleached skull as he took his first steps upon newly fashioned legs. The wastes his prison no longer, the exile cast his potent gaze towards the cities of man.

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Garrett Bailey
 
Go. Ask for Garrett Bailey. Don't tell anybody else what I told you. He's the only person you can trust. How do you know it's him? That's tricky. He's the sort of man who can look like anybody or nobody, but he does have one distinguishing feature. He was born without a tongue.

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Flagstone Fleming
 
Flagstone Fleming wiped the sweat from his brow with an old checkered rag. He reached for his canteen and emptied it with a single swallow. Working ten hours a day in a coal mine gave a man a powerful thirst. Soon it would be quitting time. He looked forward to the long elevator ride back to the surface, to walking home by moonlight, to kissing his pretty wife. A muffled shout interrupted his reverie. "Kobolds blast ye, who be ye and what business have ye in me home?"

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Charity Monsworth
 
Charity Monsworth was cleaning her house , from cleaning the Attic to the basement she worked all day , After cleaning she immediately laid in her bed , dreaming of her fantasy world


Shinn Amelius Makarov
 
Shinn ducked into the shadow of a dumpster and held as still as death itself while the constable ambled past. He had the stroll of a veteran beat cop, the kind that would take him slow and steady through a full twelve hour shift. Shinn tensed as the rhythmic footfalls came closer, increasing in volume like an inevitable force of nature.

The footfalls stopped abruptly and the man in the shadows felt like his heart was being squeezed out of his chest. Panic approached like a physical force, inching its way up from his collar. He stole a glance towards the lawman as his pulse pounded in his ears. The constable stood as an imposing silhouette of muscle steel in the darkness; calm, confident, and collected.

The man pulled something from his belt and Shinn's heart stopped. His nemesis raised the device and there was a flash of light in the darkness.

Long seconds passed before Shinn realized that he was still breathing. He opened his eyes. Carefully.

The policeman stood before him, lazily smoking a cigarette. He took long drags and blew billowing plumes of smoke from his nostrils. After a minute he checked a pocket watch and with some muttered curses ground the cigarette butt into the pavement with the glossed heel of his jackboot.

When the figure of order and authority left, Shinn emerged from the shadows. He brushed off some dust from his pants and scampered on his way.

Once again, Shinn Amelius Makarov had avoided capture.

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Tairen Truong
 
Tairen Truong sipped warm brandy from an ivory cup. The engines of Delightful Cloud Of Heaven purred contentedly around him. From the observation deck he could see the brilliantly lit towers of Xang-Hai floating above the peaceful Jade River. He was thinking about a new poem in honor of the finest of all cities when he was interrupted by the captain, a short, stout European. "Beg pardon, exalted one," the fellow said in a thick Western accent. "The Lady wishes to see you, please."

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Hoy Tallek
 
Hoy Tallek killed four waitresses when they served him the wrong breakfast. Since then, he's been on the running from city to city, racking up a body count of, at least, one million. He's known for having perfect teeth, designer stubble and cherry-blond hair, which rests below his shoulders. One of his eyes is brighter than the other; however, he has been known to cover this defect by wearing sunglasses. He is always seen with people who are suspected of being his followers. These followers have been heard claiming that 'Hoy Tallek makes everything that matters matter no more’. If you see anyone fitting this description, do not look into his right eye.

Kayjyn Mallinas
 
Kayjyn Mallinas knew the seas as well as anyone. For forty years he had lived on the great waters, though only recently had other sea-farers shown him respect. Kayjyn was born a slave - not just a slave, but a slave of the infamous Targon Swiftsails. Targon was known more for his drunkenness and cruelty than his "swift sails", and being an oarsman on his galley was known to be a harsh life. Yet when Targon started drinking more and more, his slaves saw an opportunity and Kayjyn led a revolt. After killing Targon's officers and leaving Targon himself to die on a remote island, Kayjyn and the rest of the newly freed men became a crew of fierce mercenaries. They had taken their first bounty: Targon's galley, the Mallinas. Ever since Kayjyn was known as Captain Kayjyn Mallinas.

Baltath XXIII
 
Baltath XXIII

A man of royal descendant but very small and frail his younger brother took the crown because he never really lived up to his fathers expectations, after which he turned to dark magic in desperation to make himself strong and it worked but with his new found power he chose a darker path to rule the seven kingdoms and raise the powers of hell itself.

Thoro Ageen
 
Thoro Ageen
Where have you been
The nymphs are gently calling
Night is nigh
I hear a sigh
From the highest clifftops falling
Listen my dear
And you will hear
The weeping of love forsaken
Thoro Ageen
The gods have seen
All the hearts you have taken

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Harmony Phelps
 
Harmony Phelps, lead vocalist of the neo-Nazi singing group 'The White Wailers' was never known to miss a note. Twice awarded the Perfect Pitch award by the World Federation of Beeping Noises Disguised as Music, Phelps went down in phlames when it was discovered that he was not only using an auto-tune device concealed in his nostrils, but was, in fact, an alien being.

Griswold Schplechtenburger
 
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