The Pontifex begins to command Emma and the other guard, telling them to come closer, "Alright, we need to get our stories straight-- and this is
exactly what happened, do the both of you understand?" Emma and the Guard nod, listening to the words of the Pontifex. You, however, zone it out, opening your mouth and shoving the dust in with a burst of energy, the Pontifex trails off, watching you.
[17]
You are not here anymore. You're on a dry, dusty world, near a massive machine that thrums with energy. You approach, ready to be changed, ready to be born anew.
And you are. The powers that manifest allow you to notice much about the planet you spin on. The soil, the composition, what part this to what part this, the percentages play out in your mind. You lift a hand one day, putting your will into the ground, drawing out the silica into a sharp crystalline spear. The next day you pull moisture from the air to turn the soil moist and make it into sinking quicksand.
Wars follow as you leave your home, one mercenary company, then another. Lovers, friends, foes, all eventually die, leaving you alone to drift in the void. Until you happen upon a planet with a pinging distress signal. The voice that negotiates your pay is odd and halting, but food and wealth are food and wealth.
You don your armor, meeting with the machine that rules these people. You're angered by such a strange place where the men obey the machine, but food and wealth...
The war is harsh, against [the plague], but you've fought worse creatures, and these die easily enough.
A battlefield is suddenly turned into sharp spikes, impaling abominations in the thousands.
The world opens up, swallowing creatures with a simple application of will.
The final fight is rough, your shield failing you, and the grand abomination that commands the rest brutalizes you with sharp tentacles of silvery steel. It takes everything you have within you to pull apart the ground and drop the creature into savage, massive spikes that jut high into the sky. It continues to squirm until you cut it apart, piece by piece with your Cutter. You fall to the earth, healing yourself and breathing hard, ragged. Every bone in your body aches, and looking down-- that's a lung...then you awaken again.
You're in an empty room, the walls reinforced steel meters thick. There's no more strength in your body, no weapon to help you...you fade away.
[14+4 vs 7] When you open your eyes, you're in the plaza. Squads of Crusaders mingle around the building but don't give you a second glance. The Pontifex is speaking to a small group of officers, and they look apologetic. He's angry, you realize, "Your failure to guard the [angel] against this extremism is sickening, Crusaders. Tell your general to meet me tonight-- I must have a word with him about screening his candidates better. Not only was the [angel] and her adjutant nearly killed, but the sacred relic of McCreary was damaged in her rage. Do you understand how much a humiliation this is for the Crusaders?"
"I want dinner and the walk you promised." Emma softly murmurs, leaning heavily into you. She's holding your hand tightly, like a vise, and her skin is paler than usual. In your other hand, you realize, is a shimmering dagger of glass, stained with blood. "You killed the guard with that." Emma quietly offers your role, "But not before blacking out and unleashing a firestorm to protect me."
Your other guard stands beside you silently, expression hidden beneath her kevlar mesh mask. You note, with relief, that she's the one that recommended the restaurant, but now you know that she's the Pontifex's dog.
Continue to listen to me, to let me in Patches. I'll make us more powerful than we can ever dream. Alphira's voice sends a shiver down your back-- its so clear, so easy to hear.
Would letting her have more say really be that bad?
You are Pheobe Gainer AKA Alphira
Local Time: 2:30 pm 6/15/2011
A strange fog lays over you.
You have a severe headache.
You're rebuilding muscle definition.
You are full
Over Body;
A brand new, black silk greatcoat.Torso:
A fitted grey shirt with long, tight sleeves. In hand:
An elegant glass dagger. Lower Body:
New grey semi-formal, military style pants.Hands:
A pair of leather gloves. Feet:
Woolen socks(hidden)
Feet:
A pair of new leather boots.[100 credits] in local currency.
Overload: Amateur.
Healing Factor: Amateur.
-
Endurance Boost: Beginner.
You are under contract with The Brotherhood of Scholars for twenty-three years. [Angel] of The Holy City State of SEED
--High Influence within its borders
--Full command of all military resources, as approved by Crusader General
--Full command of all military resources, in emergency situations
--Assigned a personal team of researchers, medical officers and trainers.
Grandmother(adopted): Mother Nicole Gainer, (Beloved),
--Contactable in person.
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
--Current lawful ruler of Steelworks 9 Region (Crusader Supported)
Organization: The Thornton Family
--Contactable through Mail, Emma
--High Influence within Steelworks 9 Region
--Allied with Nicole Gainer, you
Contact, Threat: William Thornton
--Contactable through Mail, Emma
--High influence within The Thornton Family
--Feared within Steelworks 9 Region
--Allied with Nicole Gainer, you
Contact, Military Trainer Coordinater: Tyler Hop (Cordial)
Lover/Adjutant: Emma Thornton (Contet-Exhausted)
--Low influence within The Thornton Family
Friends(?) (Lost Contact):
-McGee Foster
-James Foster
-Johnathan Shellton
-Jesse Hardhouse
-Erica Hail
-Amanda Silversmith
-'Other' Eric Armstrong
-John Frost
-Quincy Black