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Obligatory Introductory Fiction

The village of Tworivers was not an important place; just a minor hamlet in the pettiest of the Hundred Kingdoms. It sat at a minor fork in a minor tributary to the Stone River, which provided the town with some amount of prosperity. The small, wind-blown skiffs that traveled down along the current were not an uncommon sight to the townspeople, who simply opened their shops and hoped for some coin to cross their palms, thanks to hungers and thirsts of such rough sailors.

This skiff was an uncommon sight. It sailed with ineffable grace, nudging into the dock without a sound. The silks that draped it fluttered in a sudden breeze, and the breeze brought scents of cinnamon and ginger, of sweat and late nights. Sticks of incense burned at the elegant prow, and rose petals trailed from the stern. The men who sailed it were quiet and swift, moving with perfect efficiency to moor their lovely conveyance to the rotting wood of Tworivers' little dock. Lowering a plank over the starboard side, these odd sailors all but vanished.

From the beautiful skiff, stepped a beautiful man. His head was wrapped in rough silk the color of a bruise, midnight purple, while a luxurious long jacket of blue and twining green thread rested atop pants of white cotton. He wore no shoes. His eyes murmured the word 'yes.'

Speaking in a voice that was beguiling beyond all reason to these simple people, and there were many of them now, as excitement was rare in a place such as Tworivers, the man introduced himself, husky with accent, as V'neef Trabal, a young Dynast who had become somewhat lost on his way back to the Blessed Isle. He suggested that, in exchange for shelter for the evening, he would be glad to host a little fêtê for his benefactors.

How could they refuse such an offer?

In what seemed like moments to the dizzy townspeople, their square had been festooned with streamers of cloth, in such colors as to dazzle the eye. Pillows, soft and light as air, were strewn across the cobbles. Delicate paper lanterns dangled in the dimming light of evening, casting ephemeral glows across the upturned faces. Trays of fine laquered wood, heaped with artfully arranged delicacies, were placed on tiny tables interspersed between the seating areas. A beguiling scent, full of spices and tangs and heady sweetness, insinuated itself into the air.

"Please, eat!" declared the man, spreading wide his hands. The townspeople obliged. How could they not?

Later, now reclining and sated, the townspeople watched as this beatiful, foreign angel stood at the center of the square, waiting for something. He stomped his foot once, and music sprang from the night wind. He clapped his hands above his head, and the stones began to beat a tattoo. His jacket fell from his shoulders, leaving his chest bare in the flickering light. The head wrap was unraveled from about his ears, revealing short hair the color of midnight wells and the god-raven's wing. He began to dance.

The world slowed, until it finally stopped. Then it began to pick up speed, keeping meticulous time with this seraphim, this thing of beauty, this transcendent dancer, this saint and answerer of prayers. The man's feet rose and fell like the touch of divinity; each sweep of his arms was bliss and ecstasy. Cloth swirled through the air, forming a halo 'round his head.

His eyes murmured the word, nay, the command: 'come.' The people rose. They began to dance. And then they knew no more.

~ ~ ~

Later, there was a demon. He left the town of Tworivers with a smile on his handsome face. He left with the virtue, love, dreams, and passion of four young beauties resting in his gullet. The road under his feet kept time. The wind sighing in his ear played melody. And Twenty-six Temptations danced, as the town of Tworivers slowly woke up from what now seemed like a dream too gorgeous to be shared.


At the end of the Balorian Crusade, when the great weapons had been activated and the Fair hosts had been scattered like so much dust, there was one weapon that misfired. This weapon launched a bolt of change, a storm of thorns and Essence lightning. It launched atom bombs, blood and razors. It launched death and horror and, worst of all, stasis.

This terrible discharged traveled the length of the East, before plunging headlong into the Wyld. It passed through the chaotic penumbra first, the Bordermarches, and its passage resulted in several odd new animal species and bits of geology. It progressed onward, gaining momentum, into the Middlemarches, twisting what few raksha that had taken refuge there and altering their courts into things of terror and beauty. At breakneck pace, it arrowed into the Deep Wyld, shedding miracles like water from a duck's back. Finally, it pierced the dreamshell and entered into the Pure Chaos, where it was summarily extinguished into endless, mutable immutability. And, normally, this is where such a story would end, a wholly uninteresting anecdote to the rise of the Scarlet Empress.

The Wyld, of course, is not a normal place.

When the discharge of that great, misfired weapon was extinguished, it touched a shred of chaos and imparted that shred with a fraction of its momentum and energy. This shred whirled off, twisting and spinning with ever-increasing momentum. The shred vanished beyond the borders of the Unshaped Courts, for fear of losing its personal integrity. In the wastelands, it grew and patterned itself with hatred and obsession, that it might survive above all else. It spun so quickly and grew so large that it became a storm. It writhed with pattern and desires. It wanted more for itself.

Eventually, it returned to the Courts of the Unshaped. Once there, it mingled among the other storms, stealing pieces of their selfhood and having pieces of its own selfhood stolen in return. Other things happened; who can know? The tales of Pure Chaos are not comprehensible to any at all.



Needless to say, Twenty-six Temptations is endlessly charming. He affects a sensuous poise and an air of exoticism, because that is what his Heart speaks, in the endless twilights and debauched evenings that spring up around him from the substance of the Wyld, out beyond the Courts. He is a creature of dusk and wine, passion and forgetfulness. He is foreign, sly, mysterious, and sensual.

He is also something of a renegade, among his fellow demons from beyond the world. Because he paints himself as a foreigner no matter where he goes, he is equally alien to the formlessness of the Wyld as he is to the stasis of Creation. He destabilizes Courts, during those short interludes he spends there, dulling the senses of his fellows with bacchanals and wild dances, that they might be too distracted to challenge him or prevent his predations. In the lands of shape, he is a predator, but something of a benevolent one. He rarely destroys the souls of his victims, preferring to ravish them with honeyed words and forbidden pleasures, that they might pine for him when he inevitably leaves. He feels that this strengthens his personal story. And, after all, he is nothing if not a survivor.


Twenty-six Temptations is beautiful, no matter the form he takes. He has woven the thread of mystery into his heart, and his appearance reflects that, both in shaped worlds and in the Machine. There are several constants in his presentation, for he has forged himself as a creature of shape in the furnace of Creation. These aspects of his character appear in all worlds, regardless of personal choice or desire. They serve to enforce his existence as a desirable and foreign creature. By these traits, anyone may know him: the shining of his eyes, that grow brighter as the sun dims; the cloying aura of obsession with the titilating air of viciousness that underlies it; the length and delicate slenderness of his fingers; and his shadow, which is not cast against the ground, but that instead plays over his face and body. These traits exist at all times, no matter the body Twenty-Six Temptations dons, but only make themselves obvious to the most discerning, who are able to pierce the web of deception woven across his soul.


Name: Twenty-Six Temptations
Caste: Eshu (Entertainer over Warrior)
Nature: Gallant
Court: Unaffiliated
Concept: The dancer in the wilds


Strength 5, Dexterity 6, Stamina 5
Charisma 7, Manipulation 6, Appearance 6
Perception 4, Intelligence 4, Wits 5

Caste Abilities

Athletics 2
Medicine 2
Melee 5
Presence 5
Stealth 2

= Favored Abilities

Dodge 7
Linguistics 5 (*Old Realm, High Realm, Forest-tongue, Riverspeak, Firetongue, Skytongue)
Performance 7

Non-Favored Abilities

Archery 3
Craft (Glamour) 3
Lore 1
Occult 1
Ride 2
Socialize 3


Artifact 3: Almost exclusively cajoled from raksha dupes.

Birth 4: One free Assumption charm, Banquet of Crumbs, Ravishing the Created Form, Essence-Forging Art, Awakened Dream Manufacture, Forging the (All) Graces.

Gossamer 4: The love-sick fantasies of his many paramours deliver themselves into his hands as the wealth of dreams. In additon, he has suborned several Workers at nearly every Freehold in the area, who deliver additional Gossamer into his coffers.

Retinue 1: Just a little troupe that follows him, maintaining his spells and beasts.

Style 2: Quite sure of himself. 9-dice Style pool.

Virtues, Graces and Whatnot

Compassion 4 [Cup 5]
Conviction 4 [Staff 3]
Temperance 2 [Ring 1]
Valor 5 [Sword 4]

[Heart] 3
[Willpower] 10
[Mutation Points] 7
[Essence] 4
[Essence Pool]40 - 10
[Style Pool] 9


The Love-Promise of Twelve Petals (Anugraha Oath) [Artifact ●●●]
Mutations(2): Emotion-Weaving Style, Essence-Disrobing Passion, Deepening the Hungry Well x2. Shaping combat statistics: Speed +10, Accuracy +0, Damage +9 (piercing), Defense +1, Rate 3. 3-mote committment.

The Love-Promise of Twelve Petals was the first artifact ever taken by Twenty-Six Temptations, from a beautiful, doomed, lover. It was a Luminary, from a court of the East, one in constant summer, where the sky was never darkened by a single cloud. The lover whispered words of romance and passion, stitched them together with scraps of song, adorned them with fine, jasmine silk, and let them fly to the ear of Temptations. He took those words, and left. He does not know if his lover pines for him.

But his lover waits, in the summer court. Waits and smiles, for its words are with Twenty-Six Temptations always. And its words are thus:

"My love will remain pure, never resting, never relenting, until such a time as my soul may return to the summer and rest."

The Love-Promise appears in shaped worlds as a delicate string of music, from which dangle twelve pentagonal scraps of silk, scented heavy with jasmine. It chides and lulls those who oppose its bearer, forcing them into romantic entanglements and crippling them with lovers' expectations.

Hallelujah Chorus (Waking Circle Spell) [Artifact ●]
Mutations(9): Assumption of Dreams and Passion: Love (+Mad God Mien), Maddening Summons, Whispers Behind the Eyes. Cup-shaping statistics: Speed -5, Accuracy +1, Damage +4, Defense +4, Rate 1 (clinch-enhancer). 3-mote committment.

This trinket was received as payment for services rendered from a minor noble of the Lapis Court, long ago, when Twenty-Six Temptations destabilized his household to such a degree that the gift-giver could ascend to a position of prominence.

When Twenty-Six Temptations requires his trinket, he sings Essence into the air, performing an elaborate ode to those he has loved. At the climax, he casts a mortal dream out like a net, capturing the Essence and condensing it into an elegant veil of rubycloth and viridian. This cloth can perform twin functions: it projects dreams of its owner into the minds of ones who are addicted to his presence, and it allows its master to speak through those dreams.

In shaped worlds, the Hallelujah Chorus threads itself backwards and forwards, recalling and foretelling the presence of friends, lovers, and associates. These false memories and pretend visions draw in prey, binding them to Twenty-Six Temptations' soul.

The Shroud Divine (Waking Circle Spell) [Artifact ●]
Mutations(8): Assumption of Dreams and Passion: Transcendence (+Mad God Mien), Devouring Wings of the Wyld, Manacles of Virtue. Cup-shaping statistics: Speed +3, Accuracy +4, Damage +4, Defense +1, Rate 6. 3-mote commitment.

Taken from a Balorian paladin in the heat of the distant South after Twenty-Six Temptations triumphed in a contest measured by the number of mortal hearts broken, The Shroud Divine is a cherished possession.

To call the Shroud into Creation, one must dance. The dancer must whirl in ecstasy and faith, throwing reason and caution and rationale to the wind, opening her heart to the touch of Heaven and welcoming such a touch. At the moment where the dancer would fall, exhausted, she must instead cast a mortal dream into the sky, where it is transformed by grace. The Shroud then drifts down, a simple cloth of fine rice paper, upon which are scrawled ten million, million prayers.

In shaped worlds, The Shroud Divine strikes with all the power and force of the presence of God, crushing the hearts of onlookers into religious ecstasy.

Rimmon-my-Petal(Fey Beast) [Artifact ●]
Mutations(9): Assumption of Elemental Shape: Earth, Knife-Hand Dream, Armament of Flesh, Tough, Inexhaustible, Racing Dragon Speed. Sword-shaping statistics: Speed -5, Accuracy +1, Damage +4, Defense +1, Rate 5. 3-mote commitment

Rimmon-my-Petal is a cat-like creature, lithe and graceful and about the size of a small horse. It is, of necessity, a monster, but that is what its master asks of it. It is smooth as glass and shines like smoky quartz. Its eyes are twin coins of gold, eternally spinning and glinting with their own light. Delicate claws of basalt extend from its paws. It has no teeth, but has no need for sustenance either. It is a creature of speed and of flight and of darkness and caves. It came to Twenty-Six Temptations willingly, long ago. Its origins are unknown.

In shaped worlds, Rimmon-my-Petal harries opposing armies, striking quickly and at night.

No vision penalties for darkness. Claw attacks at Speed -3, Accuracy +1, Damage +4L, Defense -1, Rate 4. Can parry Lethal damage. Two additional dots in Strength, three additional dots in Stamina. Soaks Lethal with full Stamina. Running speed + Stamina + 5.

Love-and-Quiescence Knife(Wyld Artifact Short Daiklave) [Artifact ●]
Speed +3, Accuracy +4, Damage +4, Defense +1, Rate 6. 3-mote commitment.

The Love-and-Quiescense


  • Hush and Sleep, My Love: When touched to the forehead of a mortal creature, the Love-and-Quiescence Knife can send them to sleep. A successful Conviction + Performance roll must be made as a Cup-shaping action. On a success, the mortal falls into a deep sleep hat will not be interrupted naturally. she can only be woken by a direct effort to do so. This effect is a work of glamour and does not affect those with a Wits+Essence greater than the raksha's Charisma.

Charms And Mutations

[Assumption: Emotional Influence]
-Assumption of Dreams and Passion: Mystery
-Elegant Muse Attitude
-Unwanted Obsession Provocation Technique

-Ill-Approving Eyes
-Assertion of a Greater Vision

[Cup Combat]
-Heart-Cutting Style
-Dissonance of Principles
-Thousand Tiny Hooks Technique

-Ravishing the Created Form
-Banquet of Crumbs

-Shiftless Untamed Beauty
-Compelling Presence

-Gladdening Visage

[Creation-Based Crafting]
Ordinary Object Conjuration

-Essence-Forging Art
-Awakened Dream Manufacture

[Greater Arts of Glamour]
-Forging the (All) Grace
-Gaping Virtue Mouth

[Sword Combat]
-Scattering the Foe
-Radiance of the Invincible Warrior
-Unconquerable Truth

-Glorious Hero Form

Mutations (5): Assumption of Dreams and Passion, Elegant Muse Attitude, Unwanted Obsession Provocation Technique, Gladdening Visage, Shiftless Untamed Beauty.

Expanded Backgrounds

Artifact ●●●

The artifacts that rest in Twenty-Six Temptations' grasp are almost exclusively cajoled from foolish fellow raksha who let their guard down long enough to grant them as boons.

Birth ●●●●

This demon forged himself in a pyre of dreams as his first act of will.

Gossamer ●●●●

Thanks to the numerous romantic liasons that Temptations has had over the years with mortal men and women, he is a respectable wealthy raksha. Since he never leaves a lover soul-dead, they continue to pine and hope and dream of his touch until they die. These dreams deliver themselves as gossamer into the hands of Temptation. In addition, Temptations has worked his magic on a number of Workers in each Freehold he has passed through. These lovelorn commoners pass on a little bit of gossamer on the sly. Because of their numbers, this trickle amounts to a decent store of power.

Style ●●

Twenty-Six Temptations is wholly in control of himself, and self-confident to the point of arrogance.

Normal Combat

Base Initiative 11
Base Dodge: 18 (+4 Essence)
Hand Strike:


[Health Levels]
-0 ■
-1 ■ ■
-2 ■ ■
-4 ■
In ■

Shaping Combat

Initiative: 9

Cup ●●●●●

[Dice Pool] 4 + Ability
[Dodge Pool] 15 (+4 Essence)
[Damage] 5 + Weapon Damage
[Soak] 12
[Health Levels] 9

Staff ●●●

[Dice Pool] 6 + Ability
[Dodge Pool] 17 (+4 Essence)
[Damage] 7 + Weapon Damage
[Soak] 16
[Health Levels] 7

Ring ●

[Dice Pool] 4 + Ability
[Dodge Pool] 15 (+4 Essence)
[Damage] 4 + Weapon Damage
[Soak] 15
[Health Levels] 3

Sword ●●●●

[Dice Pool] 6 + Ability
[Dodge Pool] 17 (+4 Essence)
[Damage] 6 + Weapon Damage
[Soak] 16
[Health Levels] 9

Upgrade Layout

15 BP

Birth 4 (2 [2])
Dodge 6, Linguistics 4, Melee 4, Presence 5 (4 [6])
Compassion 4, Valor 5 (9 [15])

"Sex, Lies, and Gossamer" 250 Bonus XP


-Essence 4: 16 + 24 = 40 XP (40)
-Willpower 10: 18 XP (58)
-Conviction 4: 9 XP (67)
-Cup 5: 12 XP (79)
-Staff 3: 6 + 12 = 18 XP (97)
-Performance 7: 6 + 8 + 10 + 12 = 36 XP (133)
-Dodge 7: 12 XP (145)
-Melee 5: 8 XP (153)
-Gossamer 4, Style 2, Retinue 1: 12 XP (165)
-Elegant Muse Attitude, Unwanted Obsession Provocation Technique, Dissonance of Principles, Thousand Tiny Hooks Technique, Beguilement, Compelling Presence, Gaping Virtue Mouth, Unconquerable Truth, Glorious Hero Form: 6 x 9 = 54 XP (219)
- Ride 2: 3XP (222)


Ohshit yay~! --A very happy RakshaBoy! First character!