Violent revolutionaries and spoiled or wicked nobles are invited to show their colors in this parade of characters. These two character types should get to know one another -- infinite games of cat and mouse, oppression and resistance await them!
Characters from all time periods and genres are welcome. If your particular story line doesn't have nobles, per say, but perhaps instead have titans of industry with similar wealth and power, that's fine too! Or other variations, too, so long as they match the general theme.
Characters, introduce yourselves!
Characters from all time periods and genres are welcome. If your particular story line doesn't have nobles, per say, but perhaps instead have titans of industry with similar wealth and power, that's fine too! Or other variations, too, so long as they match the general theme.
Characters, introduce yourselves!
Violent revolutionaries and spoiled or wicked nobles are invited to show their colors in this parade of characters. These two character types should get to know one another -- infinite games of cat and mouse, oppression and resistance await them!
Characters from all time periods and genres are welcome. If your particular story line doesn't have nobles, per say, but perhaps instead have titans of industry with similar wealth and power, that's fine too! Or other variations, too, so long as they match the general theme.
Characters, introduce yourselves!
Characters from all time periods and genres are welcome. If your particular story line doesn't have nobles, per say, but perhaps instead have titans of industry with similar wealth and power, that's fine too! Or other variations, too, so long as they match the general theme.
Characters, introduce yourselves!
Oh please, my dear, as if the world is really that black and white. There's nothing wrong with a heavy hand upon an unruly populace when they can't focus on the happiness I'm giving them. Besides, it is infinitely easier to hide away the more dangerous citizens and their magic when everyone else is content with their own existence.
... and what is this about a resistance? Hah! Don't make me laugh, ma'am-- my military's numbers are large and our technology equally powerful, and I could play you all like a fiddle just as I did those furless abominations who ruled as my neighbors, right before I conquered and assimilated their people for the Empire. Just try to get to me. Try me.
.... but if that doesn't suit you, I run a more calm, honest industrial and war machine company off-planet. Typhus Industries-- that's 'Tea-fuss' to you. Here: my card. Perhaps you've heard of us?
... and what is this about a resistance? Hah! Don't make me laugh, ma'am-- my military's numbers are large and our technology equally powerful, and I could play you all like a fiddle just as I did those furless abominations who ruled as my neighbors, right before I conquered and assimilated their people for the Empire. Just try to get to me. Try me.
.... but if that doesn't suit you, I run a more calm, honest industrial and war machine company off-planet. Typhus Industries-- that's 'Tea-fuss' to you. Here: my card. Perhaps you've heard of us?
Wicked noble! Though, I don't know if you would count the courts of the Fallen of the Gregori as nobles - but Querel seems to think she's a noble from how she acts!
She believes herself to be the center of the universe, certainly by the standards of the Fallen in the city she lives in. She does need to be overthrown.
She believes herself to be the center of the universe, certainly by the standards of the Fallen in the city she lives in. She does need to be overthrown.
A parade? In her honor? How very delicious.
Safiye donned her silver crown and most beautiful blue gown before climbing onto the massive black stallion who carried her for public events. He himself was draped in fabric embroidered in spun silver thread, and his mane and tail were braided with white roses.
Her own little flock waved and swooned, enraptured by a public appearance by their great noble protector. Those from neighboring provinces watched in stony silence, knowing that it was only a matter of time before her hungry eyes turned to their lands...
And before, behind and on either side, liveried guards marched in a great sea. There seemed to be more by the day.
Safiye donned her silver crown and most beautiful blue gown before climbing onto the massive black stallion who carried her for public events. He himself was draped in fabric embroidered in spun silver thread, and his mane and tail were braided with white roses.
Her own little flock waved and swooned, enraptured by a public appearance by their great noble protector. Those from neighboring provinces watched in stony silence, knowing that it was only a matter of time before her hungry eyes turned to their lands...
And before, behind and on either side, liveried guards marched in a great sea. There seemed to be more by the day.
With her sword on her back and her pistol on her hip, Lyrette joined in the march of protest against the tyranny of the Alliance. Their oppresion of the 'Verse, their many war crimes (even in times of "peace"), had gone on long enough!
Violent: kills people for money, seems to have little problem with just who it is he kills. Check.
Revolutionary: ex-Mafiaoso, ex-Communist spy, works for a cabal of possibly alien necromancers to undermine pretty much all of humanity, fiercely anti-establishment, populist, socially liberal. Check.
Not to mention that the main enemies in his story are an unscrupulous businessman trying to get an alien slave trade started, his own necromancer masters, and the shadowy, mysterious noble that pulls the strings behind it all.
Revolutionary: ex-Mafiaoso, ex-Communist spy, works for a cabal of possibly alien necromancers to undermine pretty much all of humanity, fiercely anti-establishment, populist, socially liberal. Check.
Not to mention that the main enemies in his story are an unscrupulous businessman trying to get an alien slave trade started, his own necromancer masters, and the shadowy, mysterious noble that pulls the strings behind it all.
Oh Sinnice.
Oh Sinnice. She looks so sweet and innocent, up until someone pisses her off. Her exterior is a carefully crafted layer of deception meant to gain the trust of the people around her so she can strike them and watch them suffer. She's the secret daughter of Emperor Palpatine, genetically engineered to be a powerful Sith Lord. Her upbringing was cold and ruthless, viewing any kind of affection and commitment as weakness. Although it's not known to the public who her father is, she enjoys a lot of benefits of his wealth and status.
Oh Sinnice. She looks so sweet and innocent, up until someone pisses her off. Her exterior is a carefully crafted layer of deception meant to gain the trust of the people around her so she can strike them and watch them suffer. She's the secret daughter of Emperor Palpatine, genetically engineered to be a powerful Sith Lord. Her upbringing was cold and ruthless, viewing any kind of affection and commitment as weakness. Although it's not known to the public who her father is, she enjoys a lot of benefits of his wealth and status.
Far more than a noble, far worse than wicked; he turned from the noble king of a just planet to an intergalactic tyrant, bending entire galaxies to his will and amassing vast amounts of doomsday devices all for the express purpose of vengeance against one man. He's insanely wealthy, a dabbler in gentility and manners when the mood strikes him, but usually sitting behind a desk with a scowl and the actions of his many minions at his fingertips.
Joining the parade, a lone figure in long dark robes. He had no guards, no stormtrooper escort, just himself. It's not that he couldn't command such a force, he just had no need of them.
The Sith Lord gazed over the crowds, he didn't sense any seditious feelings. They were here to worship him and the other nobles. Excellent, he thought as he walked on by. He was content to let the little people live out their lives as long as they obeyed galactic law. The Rebels, on the other hand would not get the same mercy. As soon as this parade is over, he would be rejoining the fleet to continue the hunt.
Of course, he wasn't going to leave without at least some display of power. Over head, three TIE Fighters screamed by in close formation. Just as the sound started to fade, another three passed by, just as loudly.
He smiled and carried on walking.
The Sith Lord gazed over the crowds, he didn't sense any seditious feelings. They were here to worship him and the other nobles. Excellent, he thought as he walked on by. He was content to let the little people live out their lives as long as they obeyed galactic law. The Rebels, on the other hand would not get the same mercy. As soon as this parade is over, he would be rejoining the fleet to continue the hunt.
Of course, he wasn't going to leave without at least some display of power. Over head, three TIE Fighters screamed by in close formation. Just as the sound started to fade, another three passed by, just as loudly.
He smiled and carried on walking.
"A Revolt, you say? I do not think the lowly masses able to so much as reach us from where we sit atop our mountain of gold. Were I more charitable, I might offer a ladder. No, burn their crops and seize their property-- that ought to silence them. An army? I suppose we might buy something of the sort. Bribe the Church authority and have them throw a little fear into them from the other end. To settle things we'll erect something nice-- one of those stage-structures for hanging. A hanging ought to be a fine affair. We might conclude our parade with just the sort."
The Blood Baron. A ruthless tyrant-of-a-Baron, lacking in compassion and incapable of any moral sensibility or mortal sympathy, beyond that which might benefit him. The crowd found him marching proudly behind a flag-bearer, who carried the crest of the De Welles house. His rabbit-head cane swinging in the air to the timing of his lively gait, a brilliant smile to mar his otherwise cold and unfeeling features.
The Blood Baron. A ruthless tyrant-of-a-Baron, lacking in compassion and incapable of any moral sensibility or mortal sympathy, beyond that which might benefit him. The crowd found him marching proudly behind a flag-bearer, who carried the crest of the De Welles house. His rabbit-head cane swinging in the air to the timing of his lively gait, a brilliant smile to mar his otherwise cold and unfeeling features.
She glares at the growing crowd, but upon hearing the reason for the march it lessens to a minor degree and her boots step onto the streets to join. Part of her was annoyed that there were so many people out that day; the other part entertained the though of stealing her meal for the day and getting back to Torn in Haven City for the meeting.
In all honestly, she would rather have watched the entire city burn in flames as she rode off in a dune hopper back towards Spargus, the town that accepted her for the violent and twisted merc she was.
"Eh. Why not. Not like I really have anything special to do... no metalheads to mess around with anymore anyway." She shouldered her rifle as she followed everyone down the street.
In all honestly, she would rather have watched the entire city burn in flames as she rode off in a dune hopper back towards Spargus, the town that accepted her for the violent and twisted merc she was.
"Eh. Why not. Not like I really have anything special to do... no metalheads to mess around with anymore anyway." She shouldered her rifle as she followed everyone down the street.
Wicked, and Noble, but not at all a noble person. And technically not a Noble either, but just by knowing how to act like one, talk like one, and look down on commoners like one (also some clever lies and forged documents), he's managed to convince all around him that he is indeed a Duke from a faraway underwater kingdom.
He does try to not draw people's attention to himself too much, but he IS blue, so it's probably not working. That and he's in a parade dedicated to him (and some other guys, I guess). As he walks amongst the other wicked nobles, he can't help looking around at those who worship him! Some apparently unremarkable people get his attention more than others, and if that creepy-looking grin is any indication, they also give him maybe a few unpleasant ideas. Let's just stay out of the aquatic elf's mind for now, and enjoy the parade - trust me, it's best for everyone.
He does try to not draw people's attention to himself too much, but he IS blue, so it's probably not working. That and he's in a parade dedicated to him (and some other guys, I guess). As he walks amongst the other wicked nobles, he can't help looking around at those who worship him! Some apparently unremarkable people get his attention more than others, and if that creepy-looking grin is any indication, they also give him maybe a few unpleasant ideas. Let's just stay out of the aquatic elf's mind for now, and enjoy the parade - trust me, it's best for everyone.
"A parade? The Raptor Knights are in no shape for a parade! Do you have any idea -"
"I was there, my Lord. You don't need to remind me. King Callistin has taken everything from us, our battle brothers, your castle, your wings, and by the looks of it your pride. There's no better time."
Narsuun cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of the bandaged stumps, protruding out of his shoulders as ugly reminders of his King's cruelty. He's taken to leaving his chest bare when he can, clothing hurts the fresh stumps too much. Even articles designed with holes in the shoulders.
"My Lord forgive me for saying this, but you're a mess. Clean up, hold your chin high, and march with the revolutionaries."
The sight of King's Men in the midst of a group of gritty revolutionary characters is, on the surface, a very odd one. Narsuun ignores the scowls. Two Knights of Kasuria have positioned themselves on his flanks, the only men left under his command. Each man rides a Scarhawk, donned in light ceremonial armour. Narsuun decided to hide his wings completely, pulling chainmail and a white surcoat over his shoulders. He bears the crest of his shamed Order proudly, a Scarhawk wreathed in flames embroidered in striking red against the front of the surcoat, and the back of the greatcloak around his shoulders.
The Raptor Knights cling to their honour, even amungst the downtrodden. But really, who is a Knight who betrays his King? Just a man without a home. Who then, is a King who betrays his people?
"I was there, my Lord. You don't need to remind me. King Callistin has taken everything from us, our battle brothers, your castle, your wings, and by the looks of it your pride. There's no better time."
Narsuun cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of the bandaged stumps, protruding out of his shoulders as ugly reminders of his King's cruelty. He's taken to leaving his chest bare when he can, clothing hurts the fresh stumps too much. Even articles designed with holes in the shoulders.
"My Lord forgive me for saying this, but you're a mess. Clean up, hold your chin high, and march with the revolutionaries."
The sight of King's Men in the midst of a group of gritty revolutionary characters is, on the surface, a very odd one. Narsuun ignores the scowls. Two Knights of Kasuria have positioned themselves on his flanks, the only men left under his command. Each man rides a Scarhawk, donned in light ceremonial armour. Narsuun decided to hide his wings completely, pulling chainmail and a white surcoat over his shoulders. He bears the crest of his shamed Order proudly, a Scarhawk wreathed in flames embroidered in striking red against the front of the surcoat, and the back of the greatcloak around his shoulders.
The Raptor Knights cling to their honour, even amungst the downtrodden. But really, who is a Knight who betrays his King? Just a man without a home. Who then, is a King who betrays his people?
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