Difference between revisions of "Balthasar/LanguorOfAMillionHopes"

Revision as of 08:06, 5 April 2010

Triumphant Diamond Vestige, a.k.a. Languor of a Million Hopes
Exaltation and Caste:  Abyssal Dusk

Atts
Phy- Str/5, Dex/3, Sta/4
Soc- Cha/4, Man/2, App/0
Men- Per/3, Int/3, Wit/3

Abils
*Dusk*- Archery/3, Brawl/5, Melee/3, Thrown/1
Midnight- *Endurance*/2, *Performance*/2, *Resistance*/4, Survival/1
Daybreak- Lore/2, Medicine/1
Day- *Athletics*/3, *Dodge*/4, Stealth/1
Moonshadow- Sadly ignorant of the gentlemanly arts.
Specialties
 Brawl.Blind Fighting +1
 Endurance.Sleep Deprivation +1
 Performance.Singing +1
 Resistance.Ignore Pain +1

Backgrounds
Liege/1, Whispers/4, Resources/3, Familiar/4, Artifact/3

Virtues
Compassion/5, Conviction/2, Temperance/3, Valor/2

Willpower - 8/8
Essence - 2 (Personal/14, Peripheral/33)

Charms
Brawl
Ravaging Strike (1m, Supp., Double extra successes twice for damage)
Lashing Tempest Attack (1m/2y, Supp., Fling back foes 2 yards per mote)
Five Knife Strike (4m, Scene Reflexive, Str+1L unarmed damage, parry lethal)
Blood-Drinking Palm (2m, Supp., Regain 1m per raw damage before soak, max. Sta+Ess)
Endurance
Ox-Body Technique (Permanent, +1 -1HL & +2 -2HLs)
Ghost Armor Prana (3m/+1, Hour, Lighten Armor)
Performance
Morbid Fascination Style (5m, Scene, Command respect)
Athletics
Enhanced Strength Discipline (3m/+1, Scene, Improve Strength, max. Ess)
Dodge
Flitting Shadow Form (1m/-2, Reflexive, Reduce attack pools 2 per mote)
Fivefold Shadow Form (2m, Reflexive, Reduce attack pool by Exalt's Dodge+Ess)

Combos
 Unholy Thunderclap Technique
  Ravaging Strike              1m
  Lashing Tempest Attack       1m/2yards

Artifacts
Harmonic Shadowskin Plate
 Soak:  16B/13L (12B/11L base)
 Mobility:  -1
 Fatigue:  1
 Shade Armor:  +2 successes to Stealth rolls in shadow
 Dropping Shadow:  5m to send armor as shadowy spy

Bonus Points
 +1 Att 		[4pts]
 +7 [[FavoredBalthasar/LanguorOfAMillionHopes/Caste]] Abils	[7pts]
 +2 Virtues		[6pts]
 +2 level 4 backgrounds	[4pts]
 +2 Favored Specialties	[1pt]
	Total		22pts

Experience Points
 Combo [Brawl 1, Brawl 2]   [3xp]
 Conviction +1 [from 1]     [3xp]
 Essence Stash              [4xp]
 Unspent                    [0xp]
         Total              10xp

Languor of a Million Hopes, formerly the second son of a wealthy merchant family, sought a life of excess supported by a hefty allowance. He had enough to carouse and seek abandon at all junctures and still keep himself in the lap of luxury. Unfortunately, this gluttony inspired an ancient observer Languor did not know he had.

And so, following the brutal murders of several well-to-do merchants (almost assuredly Guild narcotics suppliers), investigations led to his mortal residence, and he was taken and imprisoned for execution. The execution was originally supposed to be public, that changed for the worse. He was to undergo an experimental execution due to his status. After the torment of that, she came to him.

She offered him life, and continuing glory and pleasure. He was dying and desperate - the execution had been poor, and he had no face left, but he yet lived. He accepted, expecting beauty and power, but he only got one of the two.

In the throes of corruption, Languor was haunted by visions of fire and damnation in every shadow. Vagabonds cried out familiar phrases, clutching to their guts and writhing in pain as he passed. Every evening, upon returning to the Lover's citadel, he felt pleasure, but it did not alleviate the horror he felt at what he'd done.

He fled it all, and sought a purer life, immediately wanting redemption.

It worked out as well as a life of that sort could. From the beginning, Languor was never good coping with the effects of the Black Miracles that cursed those around him, and eventually, the Lover found him, broken in the middle of a village of corpses, clawing at his face and ripping the flesh off, seeking to kill himself.

"Come," she bade him, "It is time to come now."

He followed her to the pits of the Malfeans, where he sold his name and heard their purpose for him encoded on the fabrics of his soul in the tongues of beings foreign to fathomable shape. In the intensity of the speech of his fate, his rent face burst into flame, which has not yet been quenched, and still burns and licks at his now-clean skull in waves of corrosive white flame.

Since his eventual rebellion, Languor has set himself with wild abandon into a path that is damning and corrupting his once good human heart. He has told himself that he relieves people of being in a world where things such as himself exist. If the Malfeans prevail, he will soon believe it.

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