Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Digital Hellhound]

:::ELYSIUM:::
-The Battleground of A Thousand Gods-

The Gods of Elysium rule their strongholds and towers across the vast red plains of their world, ever-squabbling and fighting among themselves. To those they serve, they are divine, possessed of impossible power - to a more advanced eye, they are simply a breed of transhuman, their power maintained by powerful technology. In the end, it is the same. These gods command sworn armies and champions to go across the land, battling eachother and protecting the peasantry from the dangers of the land when they bother. Gene-grafted champions, vat-grown and blindly loyal, sacrifice and dedicate their acts to their patrons for further favors and rewards. Servants gifted with divine technology roam the land doing their bidding. Great machine- and flesh-beasts and monsters are unleashed by intention or accident. Entire villages may be slaughtered in dedication to a patron god; great heroics performed in their honor.

Lately, others have taken an interest in this strange world. It is evident truth Elysium is the center of the universe, the only home of mankind and other races - but it appears there may be further universes. The barriers of reality are weakening; some whisper of an Abomination, a devourer of worlds... but that is all far away. Still, it is clear the people of other worlds are coming to Elysium, with their own plots and machinations that may threaten the power of the gods.

A shaky alliance of divinities has called together their champions and servants to fulfill their will. They are to be sent out, gifted with a mighty Myrmidon to carry them, to fight, investigate and honor the gods wherever they go.

The red wastes are dangerous, especially now, and the gods make poor allies for eachother - it is only natural they should aim to accomplish their own, private goals in secret as well. Should these champions serve them well, they will be rewarded; but they may just as well soon be bones and dust to be swallowed up by the earth.

---

Spoiler: What's all this then, eh? (click to show/hide)

An RTD of divine quests, bloody heroics and mystery.

You are a group of superhuman champions and godly servants tasked with accomplishing whatever your masters decree. You are sent out into the world to fulfill their whims, have adventures and do great deeds in their name, and investigate the world for all its secrets. In the process, you will likely amass a bewildering quantity of weapons, upgrades, abilities, skills and achievements, as is only proper for any proper hero. You'll enjoy all the luxuries of a juggernaut of a vehicle that will serve as your mobile homebase and more as you trek out across the wastes.

The setting is inspired by a world from the Valerian comics and the Olympos/Ilium books by Dan Simmons. It also has a bit of scifi western; the world is essentially a wasteland outside the godly strongholds, full of hardy frontier towns and harder men and women. Technology varies, high and low existing side by side even in the same village, and it is rarely fully understood.

Spoiler: The System (click to show/hide)

Basic rolls use a 1d6 like in any other RTD. 1 is a total failure, 2 is a minor failure, 3 usually a half-success, 4 a minor success, 5 a success and 6 an overshoot. However, combat is run with the Trifold system of mine, which allows for tactical and varied combat. Characters have HP, AP, abilities, equipment, etc etc.

The Trifold System is a reasonably complex and tactical combat system inspired by the combat of the Mass Effect series. Most characters possess protection in some form - whether Armor, Shields or an Aegis. These three types of protections are strong and weak against different types of weapons, which kinda happened on its own when designing this, in a strangely organic way. In short;

*Armor is good against SMGs and other weapons with low damage, but high rate of fire. Armor is vulnerable to rifles, sniper rifles, and other high-damage weapons.
*Shields are good against weapons with low rates of fire, such as rifles, shotguns and pistols. Shields are vulnerable against SMGs and other weapons with high rates of fire. Shields regen on their own.
*Aegises are similar to Armor, but very vulnerable to Close Range and melee attacks, and thus weapons such as shotguns, pistols and SMGs. However, Aegises can be 'reformed' when destroyed, unlike Armor.

Thus, there is no weapon type that is unquestionably superior, and all types and ranges of combat are necessary/useful. Using the right tools against the right enemy in the right situation forms most of the tactical side of combat, but there are a variety of abilities and actions that spice up things even more.
 
Actions: Combat is done through rounds where characters perform two Actions (basic enemy mooks only get 1), such as Attacking and Reloading, or Attacking and Moving to a closer Range. The specifics are found in a spoiler below.

Area: Combat takes place in a certain Area, which is mostly relevant for the Seek Cover action. An empty plain leaves combatants much more vulnerable than a warehouse bursting with chest-high boxes.

Range: Range is an important facet of Combat, and split to Long, Medium and Close. Most weapons are best suited for certain ranges. Attacking at Long Range grants a -1 to Hit, while Close Range does the opposite (+1 to Hit). Different players may be at different ranges from foes, which will be listed accordingly.

There are other effects that mainly affect Dodge rolls, such as; being in Cover, Moving (when you are counted as 'moving' is pretty arbitrary, mind you), being a big or small target, etc. Vehicle Combat is only simpler.

Spoiler: Combat Actions (click to show/hide)

In any given combat round, the players choose 2 Actions to take. These Actions are;

Attack: Ranged or Melee. Combat Roll (a 1d6, where 3-6 are successes), then enemy dodge roll(s). If there are hits, damage is dealt. You need to be in Close Range for melee, obviously.
Move: Enter or leave area, combat manoeuvring. The latter are tricks such as trying to flank an enemy to rid them of their Cover, repositioning, performing an exciting acrobatic move, changing to a closer or further Range from the enemy. They require Combat Rolls - simply running away won't.
Seek Cover: Takes Combat Roll, modified by area cover abundance. The better the result on the roll, the better the cover you find is - 1 and 2 are failures, 1 even leaving you vulnerable.
Change Weapon: Change used weapon or draw one if unarmed.
Reload Weapon: Reload a fresh clip/drum/canister into a weapon, if at hand. Weapons require reloading when the clip is empty - reloading before that is certainly possible, but the ammo remaining in the clip is wasted.
Use Equipment/Use Ability: Use an innate or equipment ability. Does not require a roll (though the abilities themselves might).
Other: Non-combat actions, like talking at length, using a computer terminal, ordering mooks around, etc.

NOTE: You don't necessarily need to use these specific terms; 'I'll try to flank Enemy #2', 'I'll charge in and open up at Enemy #73' will be interpreted by me within these Actions just fine.

In Vehicle Combat, each player has 1 Action. The possible Actions are similar;

Combat Move (Driver only): Is stuff like ramming, evasive manouvers, move from one Range to another, trying to get to their foes' rear/front/sides, trying to get away from the enemy. Combat Rolls, sometimes opposed ones, here.
Attack: Ranged (or Melee, more rarely). Combat Roll, then enemy dodge roll(s), damage is dealt, as normal.
Ready/Change Weapon: Hop into a weapon turret or out.
Reload Weapon: As above - a pair of crew can operate a single-shot cannon by one firing and the second reloading every turn, ensuring no turns wasted in reloading.
Use Equipment/Use Ability: Use an innate or equipment ability. Does not require a roll (though the abilities themselves might).
Other: Non-combat actions, like talking at length, using a computer terminal, ordering mooks around, etc. Most Vehicle Actions go under this, operating terminals, possible emergency repairs, etc. Actions such as attempting to get a targeting solution with the vehicle computer, or boosting the engines, are possible, but may also go catastrophically wrong.

Spoiler: Weapons, Loot, Customization (click to show/hide)

Weapons and their Most Exciting Stats

Weapons are a fairly central part of the system, and so they have a number of stats, below;

Damage (per Hit): How much damage a successful hit deals. Keep in mind a To Hit/Dodge critical failure (a 1) doubles damage, and a 3 halves it.
Rate of Fire: How many times the weapon fires per turn.
Accuracy: Grants modifiers, positive or negative, to Hit rolls.
Clip Size: How much ammo a given clip holds; when you fire, shots are removed from the Clip according to Rate of Fire. When a Clip is empty, you need to reload, or pray.
Mod Slots: Mod slots can be filled with various Attachments to the weapon, such as special ammo, a scope, a larger clip, etc., which will affect the weapon's qualities.
Special: Weapons may have Special qualities, such as ignoring a certain type of protection, reloading automatically, dealing more damage at a certain range, etc etc.

With melee weapons, there's only Damage, 'Speed' (Rate of Fire by another name), Accuracy and Specials.

You'll come across plenty of things to plop into Mod Slots, and plenty of different weapons, in that delightfully Borderlands-y way. Other than that, there'll be a wide variety of combat and skill consumables, armors, learnable powers and skills and whatnot.

---

Spoiler: At last, the Character App (click to show/hide)

Name: The name of your Champion.
Gender: The gender of your Champion.
Description: What your Champion looks like, how she or he acts, how they prefer to fight.
Background: What has happened to your Champion before this point? Some servants of the gods grow up in their strongholds, seeing little of the outside world, while others are chosen from the people of the wastes, perhaps after some great deed or faithful service to a god.

Patron Name: The name of the god who you serve.
Patron Description: Who is the god you serve? What do they look like, how do they behave - what powers do they mainly hold, how do they rule and in what kind of stronghold?

Your starting equipment and powers will be based on the description of your patron and your own description and background.

Spoiler: Example Champion (click to show/hide)

Name: Asharil, Sister of the Blade
Gender: Female
Description: Asharil is a statuesque, muscled warrior woman of dusty skin. She wears dark, ceremonial leather armor, tightly bound and covered in small cuts in honor of her mistress. Black hair cascades to her shoulders, crowning a face of sharp features and ice-blue eyes. On her back Asharil carries a pair of shivering swords, the weapons of the Lady's wrath - and a blood-red handcannon, heavy and powerful. She is a wrathful woman, quick to anger and to kill, plagued by suspicion and envy. She is eager for greater favor, for greater power, and will stop at nothing to see her Lady's will done.
Background: Asharil was caught by servants of the Lady on an attack on the camp of her people. Suspected of having insulted the goddess, they were slaughtered to a man - save for a little girl of dark hair and wide eyes. The leader of these servants aimed to raise Asharil - a new name given to her, meaning 'unsheathed blade' - as his own, but the Lady intervened. She had higher pursuits in mind. As the girl grew, she was indoctrinated into fanatical service of her new mistress and imbued with subtle nanotech - divine blessing - to empower her together with harsh training with weapons. Her body and mind were made into a weapon, but she has largely remained inside the safety of the stronghold - until now, called to join a quest into the wastelands...

Patron Name: Temateru, the Lady of Ash
Patron Description:
Temateru is a prideful goddess of night. She is a towering woman wrapped in a black gown of ever-shifting folds, with skin like moonlight and pure-black eyes. Patterns of darkest blue run down her face, from the middle of her eyes, like teardrops fixed in place on her skin. Subtle openings in her hands allow her to channel great power - outlets of forgotten technology - into deadly energy that can wipe entire towns off the map, should she choose to call it down from her tower. She is also said to shroud herself in night and darkness, and sometimes such a veil envelopes her stronghold and the surrounding land, suffocating even the slightest sound.

The Lady - who demands to be called only that - never leaves her ashen tower, which rises from the earth as a black monolith, though broken by irregularities across its surface. In its heights lays the Lady's garden, where she spends most her days and nights, while her temples and servants occupy the lower levels - though deep, where no-one goes, arcane machinery can be found, wreathed in energy that races up the length of the tower. The Lady's servants, mostly women of the Sisters of the Blade, learn poetry, calligraphy and the sword in the tower's halls, dedicating themselves to her service. Their shivering swords are said to cut through any material, no matter how strong. Other gods the Lady avoids, ever suspicious, but seeks to twist and manipulate them to her own ends - with little success.

Player List
1. Warbreaker Kazren, Champion of Rennahn (Draignean)
2. The Everchild, Champion of Basius (Yoink)
3. Fenrik, Champion of Nilvath (adwarf)
4. Dust, Champion of The Weaver (IronyOwl)
5. Arlia the Shaman, Champion of Aeraimua (Samarkand)

Waitlist
1. Malbjorn of Hal'grath (Cheesecake)
2. Plasma Electra Lazzara of Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay (Harry Baldman)
3. Harkus Wildblood of Gartuk (VinnietheDead)
4. Ahlona of Coula (wolfchild)
5. Akkar Gustemica of Orolo (The Ensorceler)
6. Orion of Ophiuchus (Salsacookies)
7. Sindis Yager of Jenshin (BlitzDungeoneer)

---

I'll be taking 5 players. Quality comes over speed, this isn't first-come first-serve. Length of apps can be much longer than the example.

[BlitzDungeoneer]

Spoiler: Sheet (click to show/hide)

Name: Sindsis Yager
Gender: Male
Description: Sindsis is a tall thin man, covered from head to toe in black, platelike armor. There is not an inch of his body exposed. He breathes through a breathing apparatus attached to his helmet, which allows him to breath anywhere with any kind of oxygen, as well as storing enough oxygen for 15-20 minutes of breathing should he find himself somewhere without any. He has a large, cleaver-like blade strapped to his back, which can cut through almost anything, as well as a pistol strapped to his hip. There is also a device attached to his chest which allows for regeneration during sleep cycles.
Under the armour, Sindsis looks surprisingly normal, brown hair, green eyes, no scars of any sort... many followers of Jenshin find themselves surprised whenever they see him without his armor.
Background: Sindsis lived a fairly normal life with his family up until he was 6. You see, his sixth birthday coincided with an event which takes place every 10 years in villages ruled by Jenshin; all firstborn of every family are taken, to be trained as servants of Jenshin, and perhaps even take the illustrious title of 'Champion'. He was taken, and eventually joined the ranks of Jenshin's serants after many years of training and indoctrination. He rose through the ranks quickly, and soon caught his god's attention. Said god decided he was worthy of being his champion, and he trained Sindsis for many years in mind, body and soul. Sindsis was kept in the reserve until now, this being his first real mission.

Patron Name: Jenshin, He Who Brings Pain
Patron Description: Jenshin is a sadistic god of pain. He resembles a skeleton, save for the fact that he does infact have a nose and eyes. He appears completely naked, although close inspection will reveal a lack of genitalia. He is completely impervious to harm, as all attack against him simply bounce off, perhaps even bouncing back against their original user. He wields a massive scythe, sharpened on both sides, which is said to cut through anything it touches at the lightest push.

Jenshin lives in a grand castle made of what seems to be bone, but as many of his foes have found, is almost as impervious to harm as him. He spends most of his time in the torture chamber of his castle, spending day after day torturing people for the sheer pleasure of it, although some of the time it is to gather information. This is rather rare, though. He also wanders the castle, doing whatever catches his fancy, be it eating, reading, or killing.

[Playergamer]

I'm tempted to make a character for this, but lately I've been sucked into Garry's Mod, and I'd probably just delay the game. Still, PTW.

[Salsacookies]

Spoiler: Orion (click to show/hide)

Name: Orion
Gender: Male
Description: He is tan, with long brown hair, muscled build, green serpent eyes, and a set of snake fangs behind his regular teeth. He ha scars from the wear and tear of surviving in the wastes. He prefers to wear clothing which blends with the environment, with gloves and shoes that grab onto surfaces. . He is a loner, and tries to stay out of others sight when he can. When talked to, he is very awkward and nervous, and is extremely blunt and merciless when he sees his allies do something he considers stupid. He fights with a serpent headed whip, which wraps around his arm when not in use, and it can bite and apply poison like a snake. He is very mobile, preferring not to stay at one place for long, and prefers to keep objects between him and who he is fighting. He fights dirty, and would prefer to attack when you don't know he's there, distracted, or weak and injured.
Background: He is a man of the wastes. He is a practitioner of park our, and a man who prefers the shadow over the day, to not be exposed. His encounter with his patron was a pure accident, and an encounter he wish he never had. He was running to find a safe haven from the daylight, when the ground under him cracked opened. He fell into a great cavern, where the Serpent Holder Ophiuchus, the 13th Zodiac, lay rest. Ophiuchus promised that if he became his champion, and slayed the Zodiacs who betrayed him, he would be given the power of the Zodiacs, and rule over all. If he didn't accept, he would be eaten whole, and spend eternity being digested again, and again, and again. He accepted, and was branded with the Serpent, which will serve as both his ally, and executioner, should he falter.

Patron Name: Ophiuchus the Serpent Holder, The 13th and Forgotten Zodiac
Patron Description: He is the patron of snakes and the forgotten, those who have been lost forever in time. Ophiuchus looks like a giant, with a muscular build, barely any clothing, and scars from the Serpent he holds. He is tasked to hold the mindless bloodthirsty Serpent, which constantly thrashes around and tries anything to escape. He was one of the Zodiacs, a group of gods which formally looked after Earth, and now reside on Elysium, worrying mostly of their own affairs. He was left behind by the Zodiacs, which along with the world ending Serpent he holds, has driven him into vengeful bloodlust and insanity. He is a mad god, driven entirely by emotion, primarily hatred. He bestowed upon his sole champion the powers of both the snake and shadows, meaning that the shadows shall be his ally and that he would become more snakelike the longer he was his champion. He would also bestow the powers of the slayed Zodiacs upon him, as an assurance that his promise would be fulfilled.

He lives in an underground utopia, primarily in the alters where he remembers the days of his reign along the Zodiacs and their betrayal. He has no followers, or any one, other than his champion. He lived eons, knowing only of The Zodiacs, the Serpent, the temple, and madness

[Sarrak]

Reserve, will try to think of adequate background for this.

A bit late, will apply sheet in a day or two to go on a waitlist.

[adwarf]

Spoiler: Fenrik (click to show/hide)

Name: Fenrik
Gender: Male
Description: Fenrik is a thin, wiry stick of human who has the appearance of someone that a breeze of wind would snap in half at the slightest push. He wears plain, worn work clothes and keeps his face partially covered by a plain steel mask at all time.

Fenrik can be described as a desperate coward, his sole care in the world is to continue living and he hates danger in every sense but finds himself pressed into facing it lest he receive the judgement of his patron god. He tries to keep to himself at most times, but can be very outspoken when his life is at risk. In battle he prefers to stay far away from his target, picking them off at a distance.

Background: Fenrik started his life in the wastes where he made his living by scavenging from battlefields, stealing, and hiding in dark holes when danger rose up from time to time. His last attempt at scavenging went badly when a man he thought was dead came to life in front of him, the thing bit into him tearing chunks from his face and Fenrik barely managed to draw the pistol held on the corpse's hip to put three bullets through its head. Stumbling out from under the corpse he found many of the other corpses had come to life, and his 'tribe' was being devoured all around him, in terror he fled from the scene stumbling every other step and clutching his face as torrents of blood came out of his wounds.

He ran for hours unaware of where he was or where he was going until finally the blood loss proved to much, he collapsed and thinking his life was at an end prayed to whatever gods existed for a chance, even a chance of survival. Sadly for him his prayers were answered when a servant of Nilvath found him near death, and decided to 'bless' him with a position in the Dark God's Black Order. When Fenrik came to he found not a heaven, nor a hell but a dingy medical ward, and steel contraption built into his lower jaw and throat while a wizened old man stood over him with a smirk on his face and a look in his eyes that Fenrik knew would bring nothing but trouble. He soon came to understand just how true that feeling was as the man explained his situation, that he was now a servant of the Dark God Nilvath whether he wished it or not, if he displeased Nilvath then his life would end slow and agonizingly painful far worse than anything he'd ever felt.

Needless to say the situation drove him to serve Nilvath devoutly, Fenrik liked living and he had no wish to die, and with that Fenrik found himself forced into joining the Black Order. The Black Order turned out to be a small group of assassins that Nilvath used to entertain himself by causing havoc throughout the world killing everyone from a baker to commanders if the Dark God thought it would bring amusement to him. Fenrik took to the life quickly, training in ranged combat and stealth for the sole reason that it gave him the most chance of survival ...

Patron Name: Nilvath the Dark God and the Tormentor
Patron Description: Nilvath appears as a short, stumped figure clad in robes covered in a dull grey metal while his face his hidden behind a white mask with a blood red grin and crimson eyes that give an appearance that would make most people shudder. He has a short temper, and a desire to see chaos and death running amok in the world in ever greater numbers so as to find some amusement in the trappings of the mortal world. The one time Fenrik witnessed part of his powers is when one of the Dark God's servants returned with grim news, in answer Nilvath opened his robe and a black swarm flew out enveloping the man in second wherein the screams began, hideous screams ...

The home of Nilvath is called the Complex, it is a mass of dull grey structures covering a lone mountain with a mass of tunnels and chambers held within. The entire structure appears to be a piece of a long lost age, technology the likes of which have never been seen sprawl throughout the Complex and it is guarded by blackened gun emplacements that sit silent simply waiting for an order to annihilate anything in view. It is within this complex that Nilvath lives, and his servants are taught and trained to bring about a change in the world, a rippling chaos that will be the greatest of entertainments for the Dark God ...

[Yoink]

Reserving, so that my app can be on the front page and thus special.

Spoiler: Sheet. (Finished?) (click to show/hide)

Name: The Everchild.
Gender: Female.
Description: A tall, bulky figure of plasteel, metal and rubber; a robotic construct. The outer surfaces and armour are a gleaming white colour, with the occasional black line tracing symmetrical patterns across its form, highlighting where the most prominent musculature would be on a human body. The underlying chassis, joints, mechanical parts and pistons, is a dark, understated steel where they can be seen, and there are occasional cables connecting parts of the suit in a similar colour.
It is bipedal, with digitrade legs ending with piston-powered metal 'hooves', allowing a high amount of mobility, whilst the arms run down from bulky pauldrons, to a small elbow joint, and then to oversized plasteel forearms, one of which ends in a stubby four-fingered hand, the other in a short-barrelled cannon of some description. Discrete compartments containing various oddments, including tools and materials for self-repair, are set into the sides of the robot's legs and buttocks beneath sliding panels, invisible to the casual observer. A small speaker is set approximately where the robot's navel would be, coloured to blend in. Backup speakers are hidden away beneath the pauldrons and inside the shins, and small camera lenses dot the body, camouflaged within the 'decorative' black lines.
The body has no head; set protectively into the centre of its white chest is a round panel of glass, rimmed with the darker metal material, showing a tank filled with greenish, somewhat murky nutrient fluid. Floating within, trailing a varied mass of cables and wires, is a human foetus, a synthetic umbilical cord of soulless metal anchoring it to the floor of the tank.
Background: The Everchild was only recently created, artificially born in a laboratory, its genes the product of the god Basius and his most trusted follower. Despite mental faculties boosted by a heavy, automatically administered dosage of hormones and mental stimulants, the Child has yet to develop much at all in the way of personality and knowledge. Its only memory from before being placed in its robot shell is the smiling face of its mother, before it was taken away and placed within its current tank, filled with drugs and wires to allow it to control its robotic host.
Said host is designed to aid the Child in its adventures, to tell it what it needs to know, and to gently steer it along the path Basius wishes it to follow. The Child knows only that it must obey its father unquestioningly, and that if it does it will get a treat. It has no concept of what a 'treat' is, knowing only that it is a Good Thing. The Child has a poor grasp on language- although of course amazing for a creature so young- but its learning capabilities are sped up and enhanced well beyond the average child's, allowing it to improve quite quickly, with any luck.
Patron Name: Basius
Patron Description: Physically, Basius is a wizened, frail old man, confined to a hovering mobile chair which keeps him feebly alive with various injections of steroids and stimulants. The skin on his face has been gathered at the back of his head by a strange metal clasp embedded in the skin and pulled tight, ostensibly to remove the wrinkles from his features. In practice, though, it merely leaves his face stretched into a terrifying, skeletal visage, a rictus of insane glee and suffering at the same time. The dramatic failure of that last, desperate attempt at preserving his appearance is why he keeps it safely covered with a variety of clip-on masks and remains confined to his quarters, viewing his realm through cameras studding the area and often implanted into his followers, both human and artificial.
He very, very rarely allows anyone save for His most trusted nurse- more like a babysitter, although she is fanatically devoted to the mad, childish god whom she serves- to see His true form.

Perhaps one of the most fickle and directionless of all Elysium's gods, Basius at first used his vast powers for little more than his own amusement. Roaming the lands around his 'stronghold'- basically a cluster of mismatched buildings surrounded by a wall, a terraformed garden and courtyard between them, He would play- building things, drawing, creating beautiful orchestras of music one moment only to have the instruments smashed discordantly apart the next, studying strange creatures caught by his followers and toying with their DNA (both that of the captive creatures and his followers), He had a boundless curiousity and all the maturity of a child.

His followers were treated as badly as you would expect from a childlike being given godlike powers: they would be showered with affection, gifts and praise one moment, pulped into a sack of gore by some overly convoluted execution machine for angering him the next.
Basius often regretted these outbursts, which cost him many mortal friends, and rather than take responsibility for the consequences of his actions he would simply call another of his followers by the deceased's name, acting as though it had never happened.
The smart ones amongst his people quickly learned to accept these oddities without hesitation, and found Basius in truth an easy master to please, since all he really needed was to be entertained and amused and they would swiftly rise in his favour, in addition to having an easy life mostly protected from the harsh world outside.

They passed an easygoing, playful outlook down to their children, and their children's children, and in time the followers of Basius came to revere the tenets of Fun, Curiousity, Youth and Innocence, even if His actual instruction for them is wishy-washy at best.
For the most part they are allowed to do as they please apart from when he wants something from them, save for the occasional short-lived rule or law he might declare on a whim. The occasional dissenter might realise how horrifying their existence truly is, but the vast majority accept and obey their god's crazed whims without question, not even thinking of it as wrong.

It was comparatively recent, in the grand scheme of things, that Basius the Childish God became aware that he was getting... old.
He had never much liked old people, with their saggy faces and shuffling gait, and had on more than one occasion forbade them from showing themselves in his presence before eventually forgetting about his distaste.
It was only when, out one day exploring the wastes with his entourage, that he saw a puddle. Of water, or some other naturally-occurring substance, it doesn't matter. What matters is that, in that puddle, he saw his reflection. A small, wrinkled old face, with drooping features, sun-browned skin and the sunken eyes of someone fed only on the nutrients he needed to maintain brain function, with servitors around to do all necessary physical activity and a hoverchair to carry him about.

He looked at the backs of his hands, and saw that they were weak and decrepit. He despaired.
He tried countless methods of rejuvenation, all of which failed to do more than make him look like some form of ghoul. By the time he had perfected his methods to the point that he could deny ageing's hold on a person, it was too late for him: he was already hideous, and he felt old and weak, which terrified him- he who had never really feared a thing in his long life. Becoming more aware of the encroaching threats to Elysium only worsened his fear.
Eventually, calmed down by his servants and a cocktail of medication administered by his hoverchair, Basius decided to create a child.
A true child, of his own, not some weak mortal; whom he could send out into the world to play, learn and adventure as he was too old to, and who could defend him from the things that scared him. It would be as strong as he was weak, as brave as he was frightened, as agile as he was bedridden. It would go out into the world and bring back its secrets for him. His child would teach he and his subjects what it was to be Youthful, what they had seemingly forgotten. Yes.
And so, amidst the cheers of the people outside, he worked his magic amongst his machinery and began to craft a child from his own image.

[Harry Baldman]

Spoiler: Character Sheet! (click to show/hide)

Name: Plasma Electra Lazzara

Gender: Female

Description: a tall, goblin-like woman with bronze skin, almost entirely burnt hair and wild eyes, typically smoking a golden pipe. Her stomach is large, abnormally distended, giving her a slightly pregnant look, and her limbs are bulbous, yet angular, sharp lumps protruding into the skin, shifting place as she moves. Her arms stretch down to her feet, and she usually taps her distinctly metallic fingers against the ground while waiting. Her knees seem to bend backwards as well as forwards, and her legs are unusually thick, necessitating that she walk with them slightly apart. To top it all off, she wears a leopard print bikini and a cowboy hat. In terms of behavior and tactics, Plasma tends to be unsubtle. In addition to having an unhealthy habit of blowing smoke in people's faces, she tends to loom and bluster a lot, and when that doesn't work, utilize the vast array of weaponry (virtually every inch of her body happens to be a plasma cannon, a powerful electrolaser, a support or control system (which, in case you were wondering, includes her consciousness, which is distributed in systems throughout her body) for either of those two, or armor plating to protect the previous three) poorly hidden beneath her skin. She never stops smoking, since she doesn't actually have lungs, just an air pump meant specifically for smoking, since her patron thought it looked cool, and she enjoys a good one-liner, though her circuitry does not enable her to come up with any. She fights unsubtly through liberal application of subdermal weaponry, blasting away her own skin in repeated barrages of directed lightning and plasma, often losing up to half of it in any given engagement, only to regrow it afterward through conspicuous consumption of organic matter.

Background: Plasma was created deep within the bowels of Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay, a brilliant, unexpected synthesis of weapons and more weapons, and endowed with the sense of style Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay is known for. She still remembers the day she squeezed out of the god's left elbow, complete with her current outfit, plummeting to the ground with only her robust legs to absorb the impact - this is the standard rite of passage for all of the god's creations, the test of a creation's ability to survive a fall into the wastes - surprisingly few do, and those that do not are promptly gathered back up and placed into the god's mouth. Plasma survived, so she was named and sent forward to do Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay's bidding, which just so happens to be to basically inform people that he does exist, and that he will be visiting at some point in the future. And, if they prove without style or incapable of comprehending Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay's glory, eliminate them and the area all around them with extreme prejudice, leaving only shiny glass where they once were, so that Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay's reflection be visible when he arrives at last.

Patron Name: Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay

Patron Description: Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay is, as the name implies, quite colossal - a fat, smiling golden man nine stories tall, walking the wastes and making all who behold him tremble before his might. Colossal Hugh Jay-Jay needs no stronghold, for he is a walking factory and a walking engine of his destruction all on his own, and he rules all that he sees. Though he has to admit that one day building a house to live in does sound fun, if only as an experiment. He eats mountains and creates wonders out of them, all manner of creations emerging from within his vast bulk. He speaks loudly to all who listen, and sings bawdy songs of his own glory that are audible for miles around. In his subjects he appreciates style, and gifts those he deems worthy with his creations, and destroys those he finds dull with nuclear fire and death rays, or by proxy of his explorers, such as Plasma Electra Lazzara, Oneiron Nucleorum or Infernus Magnificus. He prefers to wander the unknown regions of the world, finding new people to explore the sensibilities of or destroy as well as new mountains to take bites out of, though he has been known to wander into the territory of weaker gods and pelt them with the nastiest weapons of his arsenal to test their might - if they prove wanting, he takes their territory, and has his way with it, then eats their stronghold, then moves on.

[Samarkand]

Reserving because the reasons.

Spoiler: WIP (click to show/hide)

Name: Arlia the Shaman

Gender: Female

Description: Arlia is a wizened looking New Healer. Her hair is grey and wispy, floating around her head more lightly than a breeze. There is no hunch in her back though; despite her time-weathered skin and hair her posture is strong and she bounces lightly upon the land. Ants crawl along her body, nesting in her wispy hair. Infrequently her skin is marked by gene art, usually animals, which pop from her skin, tattoos of her own post-science-tribal makings. In keeping with this constructed-yet-not-artificial image Arlia fought using high-tech Pre-Columbian weaponry, specializing in thrown weapons such as bolas and estolica (spear thrower).

Background: The New Healers are a group which is dedicated to the recultivation of the red wastes. They reengineer old animals and plants, introducing them back into the land and protecting their paradises. Each has an animal they are most familiar with, which they manipulate most readily. For Arlia it is ants. She has engineered them to guard plants, hunt creatures, grow fungi, and terraform the land. She has left small paradises upon the land, where ants tend a variety of plants, fighting off predators and pursuing the health of more delicate flora. Visiting one of these paradises she had designed previously she found a deer grazing upon the grass. She didn’t know of any New Healers who worked with deer, and so she was surprised to see one. When she approached it morphed into a hawk and flew away. This was her first encounter with Aeraimua.

This meeting repeated, and then the sightings became more frequent. Soon she could hardly visit one of the oases without Aeraimua making an appearance. The Goddess became a familiar sight that Arlia could rely upon, as comfortable as her ants. One day she saw the Goddess under attack and rushed to her aid, thinking she was helping the being. What was actually happening was that the Goddess was training her, and she began repeatedly forcing Arlia into combat to support her, eventually claiming her as a champion.

Patron Name: Aeraimua, The Wild Goddess
Patron Description: Aeraimua takes on many different animal forms, some of a time long passed and some of a future unimagined. Yet always she maintains a feral beauty; one cannot help but see the Wilds in her. She often uses her form to communicate her intention, preferring symbolize ripe with complete meaning than words which can only grasp for communication.

[Alev]

Le ptw. Not reserving because then I would have to write more than a paragraph.

[VinnieTheDead]

Name: Harkus Wildblood

Gender: Male, probably- But none have dared to get close enough to check.

Description: A grizzly raised-by-wolves sort of fellow. His booming voice is only outmatched by his monstrous physique- and even that is overlooked by those that are drawn to his piercing, serious eyes. Scars adorn his body, either garnered from battle or his time in the wild. Those who have had the seldom experience of meeting the man have sworn that his voice travels not from his body, but from plains beyond. Those who have looked upon him say it is as if he is but a vehicle for some powerful spirit or demon. Wearing armor and clothing that would suggest it was made only from the world around him, truly the claims of the Wildblood being raised by wolves could be genuine. Some say when he bellows like a wild beast he's channeling the energies of the wild around him and within him, making him stronger than any warrior, able to snap trees with not but his hands.

Background: Those who know of the story of the wild man tell it long and well, with only part make-believe. The tale goes something like this, rhyming aside. Once, there was a seed of a strong oak tree, the tallest in the land. But from the ground emerged not a tree- But a boy. The boy grew quicker than any mortal, three- perhaps even four fold! In but days he walked on his own, picking berries only the gods and foragers could know were safe and juicy. In weeks, he grew to a boy with the build of a strong man- chasing animals and trapping the small creatures of the forest. The townsfolk that saw him said he would grow as fast as you could see him, by the second he rose ever taller and thicker. One day, the townsfolk lost sight of the boy in the woods.

There were rumors the sky light up the night he had gone, and t'was not a storm, but the god of the wild reclaiming his lost boy. Since that day, when the wolves howl in the night, the town stakes their life that the boy howls with them, bellowing and booming across the land with his mighty voice. They say bandits and the scourge of evil never taint that town, because the boy lingers in the woods like a spirit, and those who catch sight of him never speak of it.

Others say that it's not the boy in the woods- But the god of the wild thanking them for allowing him to stay. Some say that boy that grew from a tree wanders the lands as a protector of the wild and a destroyer of the foul. Living in a cabin in the woods, just outside of a grand city. But none have dared- not even rowdy children- to risk disturbing him if he lay there.

Patron Name: Gartuk, Lord of Beasts and the Wild

Patron Description: Gartuk takes the form of a massive chimera-like beast with the head of a lion. A great golden fur adorns him, and it gleams brighter than the dawn of a new day. The Lord of Beasts sometimes prefers less heroic and grand forms when appearing to champions or others, taking the form of a bear or a great eagle, or even a man. A temperamental and powerful god, he demands that his followers protect his kingdom of the wild and channel his divine fury through them, slaying those that would oppose him and the balance of the world with furious rage and divine wrath. Gartuk holds control over the beasts of all of Elysium, and even the trees and vines of the wild do his bidding.

Gartuk's stronghold is one of many furs and woods, adorned with teeth and overgrown with vines and many great plants of the world. His throne is that of vines entwined and covered in the fur of great beasts, and scales of great reptiles and feathers of beasts that fly, with daunting horns atop the throne, making the entire monstrosity look as if it were the head of a legendary creature.

[The Ensorceler]

Shoehorning application onto the front page, making it now.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Akkar Gustemica
Gender: Male
Description: Tall, wiry, and pale, Akkar ultimately wants to recreate the old technologies, but has thusfar only been able to scavenge a few pieces of working tech. He is generally found trawling the wastes for scrap worth enough to keep his workshop supplied with electricity and tools. Usually pretty friendly, Akkar is still uncomfortable around truly devout followers of the gods. When he has to fight, Akkar prefers to use weapons he knows inside and out; in this case, a heavy pistol and force gauntlet of his own design.
Background: Having ranged farther and farther afield in his search for tech, it shouldn't have been a surprise when he crossed into a foreign god's territory. Vaskar, Ruler of the Immortal Sun reacted... poorly. Rescued from the Knights of the Sun by a startlingly well armed stranger, Akkar found himself drawn to the man's weapons, which operated on an unusual principle and looked built on top of several pieces of old tech to boot. Sensing a kindred spirit, the man explained how his weapons functioned, and eventually offered much, much, more: a chance to merge with the god Orolo, patron of those who seek to understand the world and the technology within it. Taking him up on his offer, Akkar was immediately flooded with a barrage of sense-data as a swarm of nanomachines leapt the gap between the two, entered Akkar's body, and interfaced with his nervous system and brain. A field, burning yellow- a machine, building itself- the birth of an insect, glistening in the sun- a hole in the air, growing larger- a man, Akkar, running towards a light. He says, "Yes," and is elsewhere.

Patron Name: Orolo the Creator, god of Technology and Innovation
Patron Description: A rather strange god, Orolo does not hide behind a cloak of mysticism. Where other gods preach obediance, Orolo encourages rational thought and skepticism. Ultimately, though, his is just another religion, fighting the other gods to impose his will on the world. Where other gods flaunt their power, Orolo merely creates creatures and things because they are interesting, making his realm rather strange to outsiders. Having refused to hide himself, Orolo has kept his original body around, although he no longer wears it since the various rejuvenation techniques failed a few thousand years ago. Since then, Orolo has taken a number of forms, some to embody his chosen Aspects, others simply as expressions of his mindset at the time. Currently, he exists as a swarm intelligence of nanorobots who have spread through the bodies of willing hosts, mostly within his own lands.
Stronghold:

!!WIP!!

[Cheesecake]

Name: Malbjorn
 
Gender: Male

Description: Malbjorn's true shape has long since been lost, even to himself. He constantly shifts and twists into new shapes he deems necessary or interesting, ranging from rodents to monsters like ogres and trolls. The shifting process, according to him, is quite painful, yet he's grown use to it over the years. When he travels, he prefers the look of a nondescript vagabond, endlessly wandering the wastes, fully cloaked and masked. His form changes to suit his needs or his whims in combat.

Malbjorn's mind is as fickle as his body, changing moods rapidly and violently, often without warning. He is a trickster, conning men and women, beasts and monsters, and sometimes even the other gods if it pleases him. The only one who cannot be deceived by him is Hal'grath, his patron. Malbjorn has earned himself a reputation for his cunning ways. Few claim to have seen him, yet many probably have, without realizing it.

Background: His tale of origin has been lost along with his true form. The only one who knows both is Hal'grath, who selfishly keeps them hidden to retain control over Malbjorn. Malbjorn only knows of his past what he remembers. He knew he was unnatural, grown from the vast laboratories in Elysium, raised by the pseudo-divine beings that dwelt there. He was designed and raised by Hal'grath, as a weapon and as a form of entertainment.

His "childhood" were a series of tests and experiments, all testing the limits of his shifting capabilities. For years he had lived in the sacred laboratories of Elysium, and every day, every year, his body, along with his mind, changed. He was deemed worthy of Hal'grath when he reached the point of shifting as much as he can, whenever he wanted to. He was then commanded to live with every man, beast and monster, to know how they act and how they behave. For even more of his life he has lived with humans and animals and vicious beasts and horrid monsters.

Patron Name: Hal'grath the Changer

Patron Description: Hal'grath, like Malbjorn, prefers no one form, changing constantly into various impossible shapes and colors, all for the sake of pleasing himself. He is an incredibly fickle god, uncaring to what befalls his followers if they no longer entertain him. His fortress, the Falling Tower, is a series of disconnected sections that constantly move and reattach themselves to other parts of the Tower. Each day every room is changed, its previous purpose wholly changed. The only constant in the Tower are the servants, who have to adapt everyday to the changing tower.

Hal'grath is infamous for toying with the mortal races, sparking wars and such, yet he can also persuade them into alliances. On a smaller scale he can impersonate a loved one and hurt the feelings of the other, completely unaware that their loved one is Hal'grath in disguise. Hal'grath is a childish god, and plays pranks on the other gods, which can lead to nasty fighting and even wars.

[Samarkand]

Reserving because the reasons.

Spoiler: WIP (click to show/hide)

Name: Arlia the Shaman

Gender: Female

Description: Arlia is a wizened looking New Healer. Her hair is grey and wispy, floating around her head more lightly than a breeze. There is no hunch in her back though; despite her time-weathered skin and hair her posture is strong and she bounces lightly upon the land. Ants crawl along her body, nesting in her wispy hair. Infrequently her skin is marked by gene art, usually animals, which pop from her skin, tattoos of her own post-science-tribal makings. In keeping with this constructed-yet-not-artificial image Arlia fought using high-tech Pre-Columbian weaponry, specializing in thrown weapons such as bolas and estolica (spear thrower).

Background: The New Healers are a group which is dedicated to the recultivation of the red wastes. They reengineer old animals and plants, introducing them back into the land and protecting their paradises. Each has an animal they are most familiar with, which they manipulate most readily. For Arlia it is ants. She has engineered them to guard plants, hunt creatures, grow fungi, and terraform the land. She has left small paradises upon the land, where ants tend a variety of plants, fighting off predators and pursuing the health of more delicate flora. Visiting one of these paradises she had designed previously she found a deer grazing upon the grass. She didn’t know of any New Healers who worked with deer, and so she was surprised to see one. When she approached it morphed into a hawk and flew away. This was her first encounter with Aeraimua.

This meeting repeated, and then the sightings became more frequent. Soon she could hardly visit one of the oases without Aeraimua making an appearance. The Goddess became a familiar sight that Arlia could rely upon, as comfortable as her ants. One day she saw the Goddess under attack and rushed to her aid, thinking she was helping the being. What was actually happening was that the Goddess was training her, and she began repeatedly forcing Arlia into combat to support her, eventually claiming her as a champion.

Patron Name: Aeraimua, The Wild Goddess
Patron Description: Aeraimua takes on many different animal forms, some of a time long passed and some of a future unimagined. Yet always she maintains a feral beauty; one cannot help but see the Wilds in her. She often uses her form to communicate her intention, preferring symbolize ripe with complete meaning than words which can only grasp for communication.

Sheet is less a WIP now. Does this fit into your lore well, or is there something I need to change? Also, does it look complete to you or are there details you need that I have glossed over?

[Execute/Dumbo.exe]

Yhea, I'm not too imaginative, but it seems like an amazing idea so I'll just be posting to watch in anticipation.