GoldenCat/Protagonists
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The Unforgiven
Alexander Holysword is a Zenith Caste Solar Exalted, a crown prince of Whiteshield. Deep purple eyes shine like two organic amethysts, his hair silvery and gleaming as if made of crystals. Beautiful, cute... as much as he could be, from birth, and due to his artifact and gem, unearthly so, like a faerie prince. Great white wings frame his back, his body covered in all regality by clothes of white, gold and purple, many of them inlaid in amethysts, opals, or crystals.
In his hand rests Ainerach, a beautiful blade of orichalcum, the national treasure of Whiteshield - a Reaver Daiklave of exquisite craftsmanship. Its hilt is long and thin, almost the length of a man’s forearm, and made of Orichalcum in ornate, but comfortable, releves. At the end of the hilt, carved in Moonsilver and Ivory, a beautiful maiden face, the visage of its creator, and at its sword-end there’s a beautiful craftsmanship in an opening, a wing of Moonsilver coming out of it, three hollow gemstone places resting amidst its feathers like a bird’s nests. It proceeds over the Blade’s left side, slashing back like a wing after 10 centimeters up the blade. It slashes back all the way to the face, serving like the sword’s guard.
Good-natured, kind-hearted, charitable and brave, Alexander is everything one would expect of a prince who grew up on tales of Exalted heroisms, always dreaming of becoming one. Trained on statesmanship by his father, and on swordsmanship by the southern mercenary Otieno, Alexander has the groundwork for a great man.. if he lives that long. Exalted with his mother's blood on his hand, taking the blade from his father's corpse, sending the bodies of all his family to heaven. All that he loved taken from him by the Bishop, by his crusaders, by the Vestal and the Disciple. Running off with his comatose brother, Cedric, and his handmaid, Millia, he was 'rescued' by the Dark and Pale Angels, the Lover's deathknights... and now walks a path to bring light back to Whiteshield.. or to hear the words of the darkness all around him, and sink in all the dark feelings he holds down so much... together with his sadness... together with his longing... together with the fear he feels, all alone, his family gone, seeking warmth and acceptance even in the Abyssals around him.
Alexander is a natural talent at swordsmanship, and, the very image of a Zenith Caste, a bullwark of faith and endurance, able to endurance the harshest treatment and recover from it easily. Animals love Alexander, and, hailing from a family that had close contact with spirits, he is well able to see spirits and magic, and to strike them down. But yet, he is a newborn Solar, still not having mastered the subleties of Exalted combat...
Cael Pattona, the Windwraith, is an Eclipse Solar Exalted. He Exalted when stealing a recovered and assembled first age airship it took mokes to rebuild, the Quicksilver Zephyr, earning the enmity of Hanslanti and a name for himself. He woke one day with the Empyrean Binds encasing his body, orichalcum tattoos encircling his arms. They let him write on the air in golden text ... and throw those words with deadly accuracy. He is a smooth and dynamic man, and well backed – the Zephyr is tended by Calisara, its spirit, powerful as the ship itself, and he works for the Seven Sages, a powerful council of northern spirits.
One of those, the goddess of music, Lowyn Innocent-Eyes, also known as Sweet Melody, has her sanctum in Whiteshield, and so asked him to help the prince and his assossiates, mostly to throw him away from them – she has no desire that the screams of pain that are now whiteshield become simply moans of passion, and the beauty of music is taken out forever...
Cael is an athletic man and a great Solar negotiator, as well as a dabbler in many things, utility sorcery and con games to name but two.
- Calisara is the Spirit of the Zephyr, and is as powerful as the ship itself. Her large eyes are quicksilver within beautifully-rounded pearls. Her lips, like glittering gems. Her body is pale like the fairiest, most sheltered child of the north, milky white. A generous body covered only in swirling paintings of silver, like sharp clouds in a windy day. Calisara walks without touching the ground, as if swimming on air.. Calisara has wings, but they are usually seen only in the corner of one's eyes, shining like sunlight over clouds, which she can unfurl to full radiant majesty when needed.
Her irises are the inlaid desings in the ship, her lips and eyes its interior, her body its hull, her clothing the clouds that surround it. Her angelic face welcomes all as she floats, touching the ground only barely. A very cheerful and charitable spirit, she is able to take anyone and everyone in - as long as they help and make no trouble. She will insist that people clean after their messes, and will comment on their lives within the Zephyr - as long as it is concerned, whatever they are doing, they do right accross her on the living room. Calisara is prestative and happy to serve, but in no way submissive, one of the most outspoken spirit servants one might ever know.
Calisara is constantly aware of everything that happens on the Zephyr, and just needs a moment to find anyone, and anything, in it. She can pilot the ship remarkably well, inhumanly so, although not to the level of its intended pilot, an Exalted sailor, and is at home in the winds that the Zephyr sails on, controlling those winds, controlling the very motion, able to control the winds to blow and stop, or to command deadly windy knives, cutting air to protect her self and charge...
Domiel Wintering, the Ashing Dove, is musician and a coward. Born of the mating between his human father and a pleasure-slave Fair Folk Commoner who had long ago been gifted to his family, Domiel was destined to be outcast from proper society the moment he entered the world. Rural nobility in the northern most tip of Windia, his family was wealthy by local standards, though far from rich. Their lands had the good fortune to be occupied by the Summer Circle, a tiny court of Raksha whose Story was one of friendship with the locals and who wound Domiel up into their drama from an early age. Much of his youth was spent with his eccentric cousins, learning the art of music and love-making instead of learning how to manage his family lands, and it was with them that he Exalted in a flurry of music and passion that would leave an imprint forever on his soul.
The beautiful, pale musician desired nothing more than a life of leisure and pleasure; as often on someone else’s coin as could be arranged. Escaping his fathers desire for him to marry quickly, the Ashing Dove took to wandering the highways of Windia plying his trade as a musician and a lover – the two skills he excelled at above all else. With a habit for romantic folly, he had to take to his heels out of many towns and villages, but his reputation as a musician was one of such sought after prestige that unwitting noblemen and even kings invited him to play in their courts. It would be this reputation which saw him as guest of honor at a certain party. A party whose events inadvertently lead this cowardly man to rescue the princess Carina Holysword from the hands of the Bishop’s forces and set him on a path to become the unlikely care-taker of the young prince Cedric Holysword.
Happy to avoid the danger and adventure of the on-coming war, Domiel has since taken the prince and the servant girl who attends the lad back to his families estate to keep them safe.
Domiel is a startling beautiful man; fine figured and fair featured. Far too beautiful, in fact. The sheer perfection of his physical form is… unnatural. It disturbs something primal within mortal kind and makes them uncomfortable around him. He is all pale grays and whites – from hair to eyes to clothing, yet holds just enough pigment in his skin to fall short of a true albino. Perpetually short of money, his clothing is often cheap yet worn with enough grace and poise to seem fashionable none the less.
Coward that he is, Domiel avoids confrontation whenever possible and possesses few natural skills to help him over come this. He carries a fiddle known as Lover’s Sweet Sigh that can arouse passion in even the coldest hearts and rides upon a beautiful fire-elk named Kitrain, both gifts to him from the Summer Circle. Something dark and powerful does lurk within the beautiful musician, though he calls it out only in desperation. But to most the world, he seems what he is – a playboy and a lazy aristocrat gliding through life on the gifts he was born with.
Fiona is a Twilight Caste Solar Exalted. A cute young lady, her face almost child-like with big hazel eyes and a her warm amber brown hair tied in a high ponytail, bangs cut close to the brow, but longer around her ears, a body that is lithe, slender, all ehr proportions just right, if minimalist. Originally from the East, Fiona Exalted with a drive for knowledge, to know, to discover... what drove her to ruins where she discovered the secrets of Emerald and Sapphire circles of magic, what made her discover so much of history and spirit lore... her quest for knowledge brought her to Whiteshield, where she expected to find ruins, but was instead welcome with open arms by the royal family of a kingdom thriving over First Age ruins...
...there she met warmth, acceptance and happyness, more than she ever had, a teacher in the Queen, a mother in the head maid, a kindred soul in the prince's nanny, and a passion in the oldest prince... until Whiteshield broke down under the blitzkrieg of the Bishop's forces. Consumed by her duty, her responsability for the royal family, It was because of Fiona that Millia, Cedric and Alex survived, and it was her who stayed behind to cover their escape, over ascending souls of all the palace. And it was then that the Vestal captured her, breaking her, twisting her duty to serve her own ends, sullying her innocence forever.
Fiona used to dress in clothes of earthy or musky green shades, covering loosely her upper body, but leaving her legs bare, but after her capture, the Vestal has her dress in a minimalist, form-fitting clothing that could only be called an attempt of a lingerie to actually cover, covering most of her body in golden and purple laces, thigh high stockings and gloves past her elbow, golden chains around them. Yellow-gold veils come from its thighs, covering almost up to her knees... a dress for mistresses of Whiteshield the Vestal took, and which fit her newest slave quite well... and, of course, a black choker, marking her as a property of the church.
Kanti was a dynast lady from House Sesus. Early in her life, she was given to a Sidereal Exalted, one of the Chosen of Serenity, and taken to heaven, to the Cerulean Lute of Harmony. There she mastered the Viridian Randiance Style, serving her sidereal master well in many tasks, a knight of heaven. Until he went to make a deal with the underworld, and the former agent of heaven, Ten Thousand Virtues. But when he came back, he was... different. Taken to the underworld, she was given to the Vestal of the Livid Lamasery without a second thought from the man who had raised and protected her most of her life. The Vestal used the beautiful raven-black dragoness for a long time, until she decided she was done, and decided to be ...artistic.
The torture lasted for most of Calibration, breaking Kanti's mind and soul, scarring her body with an intricate pattern of necromantic significance. As a final act of cruelty, the Vestal bade Berengiere to twist her screams into a garment for her, leaving her clad in her own torment. Broken and afraid, Kanti is in the service of the Vestal, at least for now.
Possessed of long raven-black hair, the beautiful Crimson Dragoness is covered in dark necromantic scars, forming a pattern disturbing to those with even a passing knowledge of Necromancy. The robes she wears, crafted of her own screams, shimmer and shift through all the spectrum of blood, depending on how the light catches them. Their form is mockery, bearing no small resembalance to the robes of an Immaculate monk, though revealing an amount of skin more appropriate to a Southern courtesan.
Bracers of red jade that flow like flame cover her wrists, covered with the writings of heaven, boosting her knowledge and skill in the Viridian Radiance Style tenfold, and her Fragrant Incense Spear fills the air with an scent that saps other's will to fight. She fights like a saint, her blows dealing no pain, even as she fills her enemies with remorse at their attempts to hurt her. Her voice, when it isn't filled with a tremble of fear is soothing and diplomatic, and her hands can heal the most grevious wounds. And then, of course, she can dance.
Selina De Windia, the Dark Angel( Also known as Aine Blackwater, the Kinslayer, Grave Dragoness, and a few others...), was to be the Duchess of Windia, first born of the De Windia, those that care for the city for the royals. Born a dragon-touched on account of her mother, a realm exile, she had all the world for her... until her wings blossomed, the color of midnight. Windia fears black wings, for fear of a prophecy that seems to be true the more Selina meets with the supernatural.. and so, she was feared, she was loathed... and she was an easy enough target. The Durants, another noble family, cast a spell on her, controlling her mind and making her murder her family... her mother managed to stop Selina and protect her children, but it was already too late for her – she died in Selina’s now-conscious arms, the blood of both her parents on the little girl’s hands. She fled from Windia then, a little noble girl on the cold harsh north...
She survived, and eventually Exalted as a Twilight caste Solar... until she met a demon. He raped her, broke her, left her sullied and scared and even more angry... she trained as an assassin, full of anger for the world, feeling sullied in all possible ways, when the Lover found her. She gave Selina all the darkness she could possibly want... and then some. But then, simply dumped Selina on Nexus, apparently without strings attached. In truth, the girl mostly dues jobs for the Lover, as a ‘deniable’ agent, whom the Lover is waiting for her to get... ripe, enjoying how the corruption, as always, makes her creation colder and darker...
Selina lives on the Dark Wood, a powerful woodland manse just out of Nexus, and acts as a mystical assassin, and a well-paid one at that, most of the time. She has pledged herself to the Immaculate Order, and takes jobs from the more cynical ones there from time to time. Wreathed in a black leather leotard made wuth Soulsteel, high boots and long gloves, she is a beauty to behold, ravishing curves flaunted by her dress, great midnight-black wings behind her, pale blonde hair down her waist, and predatory turquoise eyes...
She wields a Soulsteel Scythe, Angeldust, containing the essence of a Nephwrack named Chimes-Of-Nothing, able to sever weak sorcery and charms. She wields a Jade Rapier-Daiklave, Dreamshard, that allows her to destroy fae and throw waves of the Wyld. She uses bolt charms and duelist prowess to assassinate, as well as more subtle Terrestrial Sorceries.
Seventh Moon was born into a world of pain and poverty within Whiteshield’s dirty industrial city, the Boil. The bastard off spring of a refugee from a village outside the city and an unknown Lunar assailant, the wild child was abandoned by his mother at the age of four, left alone in their shanty home within the Ash District. Like so many orphans of the Boil, his choice was starvation or damnation – to waste away as a forgotten feature of the smoky landscape or to integrate himself into the youth gangs who hunted the streets. Even from that age however, Seventh Moon was determined to survive and managed to earn himself a place with one of the less violent gangs in the city, the Half-Moon Howling Alley Pack.
Time and events both fortunate and tragic would eventually see him at the head of the Pack and eventually into the arms of Luna, chosen to be one of her champions as he stood bleeding and angry on the streets. It was only after this that Father of Crows, master of the Boil’s criminal underworld and an ancient and undeniably insane Lunar, approached him. The Father offered to train Seventh Moon in his new found power and the young punk hesitantly agreed and began to learn the skills which would ultimately be called upon in the Fathers service. He learned to be a killer of gods.
Under the Fathers advice, he allowed the once numerous Pack to dissolve into smaller gangs, keeping only a small group of close friends around him. He spent much time carousing with them or dallying with Sweet Sarah O’reilly, his long time friend and lover. Even as a Chosen of Luna, little changed for Seventh Moon for a very long time.
Until the coming of the Bishop. With the overwhelming show of force on the part of the Bishop, the city surrendered and Sarah taken away in chains to serve the deathknight known as the Vestal of the Livid Lamasery. Enraged by the meekness of his city and the loss of Sarah, goaded on by Father of Crows in his mad fashion, Seventh Moon left the only home he had ever known to seek out the royalty of Whiteshield and drag one of them back to the Boil to liberate the city if they wanted to or not.
A handsome young firebrand, Seventh Moon sleek and muscular. A hard and rough natured child of the urban wilderness, he dresses ready for trouble at any moment and likes nothing better than the smack of a leather glove against a cheek. His totem animal a husky, Moon's Tells are small; a pair of unnaturally pale ice-blue eyes and gleaming white fangs that peek from his mouth when he smiles. But he moves like a hound on the hunt, stalking and wary of the world around him, ready to burst into motion and violence the moment the opportunity presents itself.
Seventh Moon has never fully adjusted to his state as one of the Chosen. Unlike most Lunars, he has not embraced his shape-shifting powers. The act so alien to his human sensibilities that he has yet to really seek out the true strength Luna has to offer him. Instead, he prefers to stand as a man and fight with his fists instead of fang and claw. Given to him as a sign of good faith by the Father, he carries Konshu, a powerful relic that dates even beyond the First Age itself, and wears a pair of smashfists scavenged from a tomb of one of the Boil’s First Age guardians.
- Father of Crows is a madman. A No Moon Lunar who has lived in hiding since the First Age and once ruled over the city whose foundations the Boil is built upon. He is the Shadow Lord of the Boil, master of it’s criminal underworld. Few even believe he truly exists, but he is all too real and few could guess to the extent to which his shadow stretches over their lives. Once, he walked the world under a different face and a different name, but the noble raven he once was picked to pieces by the crow long ago, leaving nothing but tattered fragment to haunt his every waking moment. To an extent few understand, Father of Crows is the Boil, or at least the worst of it. The dystopian nightmare of the Ash District, the violence of the street gangs, the suffering and death of “Cleaning Season;” all of these bare the mark of his handiwork and speak in bloody verses to any who may doubt just why beasts should not be let free to run amok within civilization. Yet, there are worse options than a inhumane madman, as the recent invasion of Whiteshield has come to demonstrate. As few things have in centuries, the attack of the Shinning One against the Boil has roused Father of Crows. Excited in his madness, he begins to maneuver to carry out plans whose strings have been laid out for generations. So many strings wrapped around lives who have no idea of their place in his schemes. So many threads in the weave of Fate which are doomed to end well before their time…
Though capable of taking many forms, beneath the layers, Father of Crows is a wretched creature. Even in his natural state, he seems as much crow as man. Dirty and foul, the air about him stinks of molted feathers and carrion. His skin is pale and liver spotted. Set in shriveled and thin boned face that may have once been handsome, his eyes are huge and black, disturbing clear and unblinking. His wrinkled head smeared with wispy hair that clings to his skin on a perpetual coating of fevered sweat. Clad in a heavy mantle of black feathers that bristle around his neck and shoulders and forms great cloak that engulfs his tiny body. Long fingers with bulbous joints swollen with arthritis grasp out of the cavernous sleeves of his under robes, ending in over grown finger nails black with centuries of dirt.
Father of Crows was once a scholar king and a sorcerer lord, one of the most learned men in Creation. Even degenerate as he has become, he is yet a dangerous foe. Ancient, powerful, and cunning even in his madness, Father of Crows possess a wealth of sorcerous lore and shape-changing abilities. What makes him truly dangerous is not his personal might however, but instead the almost limitless wealth and resources he has waiting at his finger tips. Few who challenge the ancient Lunar ever live to confront him, as the knife of their assassin slips through their ribs while they slumber.
- Sarah O'Reilly is a Changeling prostitute from the Boil. Orphaned, she led a rough, hard life until she joined the Half-Moon Howling Alley Pack, protected under their wing and later on the Red Lantern District, as one of the many prostitutes there, under the protection of the Smiling Lover. She eventually fell in love with and became involved with their leader, Seventh Moon, a relationship that lasted a long, wonderful time.. until the Boil surrendered to the Bishop's forces, and she was one of the many beautiful girls and women given as a tribute to the Vestal of the Livid Lamasery, seeing Moon for the last time as she was dragged along the streets in chains of burning iron...
Sarah is... pretty. More Adorable than outright beautiful, she attracts people to her, without even trying. Her petite body is just curvy enough to attract looks, not just by its curves, but by how she flaunts them, her every move, her every breath emanating something... rousing. Full pouty lips and big purple eyes adorn her heart-shaped face as do her pale blonde hair, and a sweet, soothing voice makes you forget all your problems before she makes you relax for real...
Sarah is mostly a normal person despite of her heritage - she is yes a little bit too cute and too pretty, and able to do minor tricks that increase passion, that makes her more desirable, that heightens pleasure and desire. But aside from those minor tricks, she is a mostly normal girl, now scared and broken under the heel of the Vestal.
Vorpal the Pale Angel( Also known as Lilith ) was a ghost-blooded princess from the Northeast... ostrasized by her society from birth, and raised as simply a weapon, to meet their expectations – to be an embodiment of death. Trained to not show emotions, to not have them, to intimidate, to be an authority and bringer of death in the battlefield... and she learned the lessons all too well. An strategic genius, a great swordswoman and an authority that must always be obeyed, she was used to walking above her troops, the unnatainable, irreprensible Pale Angel... and away from all others in court. But in the santity of her room, she would take romance novels and dreams and let her ice melt...
She led the Pale Angel Brigade bringing expansion and power to her kingdom, until they got a little *too* good to their own good... when her country betrayed her, trapping and crushing her brigade, and leaving her broken and bloodied on the battlfield... but not dead. Oh no, still not dead. The lover touched her with Abyssal Exaltation then, and rose the ghost-blooded with a vengeance. She became the Lover’s chief military commander in no time, named after her old title, and now acts both in service of her mistress or as a ‘ghost-blooded’ mercenary, spreading death and letting her enemies know that she is still alive...
Pale as snow, eyes red as blood, covered in the Black Queen’s Vestiments, form-fitting, almost liquid soulsteel armor, and carrying Mournful Kiss, a dark soulsteel claymore, Vorpal is a very tough woman, hard to be hurt, and even harder to keep down, and an authority to be obeyed, always.
Alexsei Krauser is a commited funeral priest that is, unknowingly for many, a Sidereal Exalted Chosen by Saturn, the Maiden of Endings. Born to a humble mortal family in the Realms - more precisely in Nishimo, in Arjuf Dominion - Alexsei soon suffered bad treatment at the hand of his Dragon Blooded uncle, his only surviving family after the untimel death of his parents. While working for him, the young man ammassed much knowledge and educated himself in secretat night or during the rare moments he had moments to spare.
Through the eventual confrontation with Ledaal Nalldarak, his uncle - confrontation which ended with Nalldarak meeting his own ending at the hand of his numerous slaves - Alexsei experienced his exaltation and was eventually taken away by older sidereals bent on teaching him the ways of the Guardians of Fate and Creation. Alexsei took well to his new role, embracing the philosophies of the Sidereals and the Chosen of Saturn fully. His commitment made him a good student, and led him to serve in the convention of Wood, where he would eventually join the Convention of Wood and meet his good friends, Iluun and Gaijutsu.
Serving in Sijan, Alexsei learned the trade of the funeral priest, a profession that completed his duties as Chosen of Endings perfectly. Alongside Iluun and Gaijutsu, Alexsei waged many a battle in the Black Chase, fighting the servants of the Malfeans there for some years. The campainging against the Malfeans were a changing experience for the young Sidereal who, having seen much bloodshed in these dark years, has preferred the peaceful path since then. In the aftermath of their service, Alexsei, Iluun and Gaijutsu realized how the strands of their fate were seemingly intertwined, and decided to use a powerful divination ritual in order to uncover the truth of the matter, and find guidance in knowing what was to come.
The results were fascinating and enlightening for the three young Sidereals, all realizing that among their strands were also three others, people that would be key to maintain the balance of creation. Following the prophecy, the three friends eventually seperated, each going his own way to better their mutual cause. Keeping contact with each other even through the physical distances, all of them eventually managed to find the mysterious people whose lives were so intertwined with their own.
Alexsei identified young Cynis Ryshassa, unexalted daughter of a well-bred Dragon Blooded couple from the Realm, as the woman he was to help and protect. Following the revelation of the bad treatments the girl was submitted to, the Chosen of Endings established a home in the far North, in anticipation of the time where he would take Ryshassa away from the Realm, and would have to keep her safe and hidden. Alexsei found an uncharted demesne in the mountain First Age city of Gethamane, on which he had a manse built. Naming it The Gateway, the manse became his home, from where he started to practice a trade as Funeral priest while watching over the Realm. His sadness only grew as the poor girl was submitted to many years of mistreatments at the hand of her own family - and he waited for the time where he would finally set her free from her glorified prison.
Finally, some years later, Ryshassa while facing an abject, incensed assault on her person, realized her full potential. In a flash, the timid young girl exalted as a Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, a powerful twilight with high healing capabilities and the resistance to match it. Swiftly intervening, Alexsei spirited his young charge away from the Realm, under the incredulous eye of her younger sister Atmadja. Although he brought a swift end to the man who wished to force himself upon her, Alexsei has been secretely blaming himself for not having been able to prevent Ryshassa's desecration, a vision that still haunts him today.
Away from the things that hurt and bind her, Ryshassa begun to bloom and develop - something Alexsei tried to help with, his heart eventually filling with love for the gentle healer. He watched as she became loved and appreciated by the citizens of Gethamane, as her healing and the music she spun through her lyre brought her more and more out of her shell.
Years later, the two of them would get married in Gethamane, where they practice their trade like husband and wife, a healer and a funeral priest. Alexsei is content to do his best in order for his wife to be happy, and her gentle smile is enough for him to endure any hardship. However, now, ten years after their fleeing from the Realm, the Chosen of Endings cannot help but think of the prophecy he and his friends uncovered years ago - and the dark times that might be ahead for the gentle healer and the compassionate funeral priest...
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