Posted by Imbrogno/Vacilis(VIP) on October 29, 2000 at 19:03:22:
I just can't bring myself to play a battlerager. I role these things up, rank them to 20th or so, get ready to apply and then feel dirty and delete. Ragers just don't mesh with my worldview or something. Maybe idealist/counselors just can't play them. Killing will never my major focus when playing this game and obviously ragers need to really enjoy that aspect, I don't. I'd rather sit in the Inn or explore and ragers suck for both of those things. In any event, here's the role for Vacilis, who I'm sure would have been the first rager marked by Amaranthe(if such a thing is even possible). Just the latest on my long list of deleted wannabe ragers. Role + INCUBATION
Role +
Role + In many places, most of which have yet to be seen by the mortal
Role + adventurers of Thera, the nature/magic dichotomy is embraced
Role + much more wholly and feverishly than in those places that most
Role + of us see regularly. In some, magic has been shunned completely
Role + and nature is allowed to flourish, while in others nature is
Role + shunned and magic is working to take its place. That’s where
Role + I come in for I’m not a product of nature, but one of magic.
Role + That’s not to say I’m “proud” of that fact, quite the contrary,
Role + I “despise” that truth and would do anything to find that it
Role + was not real.
Role +
Role + The earliest memory of most is from their early childhood, 3
Role + or 4 years of age. My earliest memory is my “birth”. I distinctly
Role + remember opening my eyes to find that I was surrounded by glass.
Role + Various fleshy tubes were protruding from the most awful places
Role + including my stomach, chest, and forehead. The air crackled
Role + with energy and a woman was standing over me with her hands pressed
Role + against the glass ball in which I was laying. Her palms were bright
Role + red and as I reached up with one finger to touch the glass near where
Role + her hands were I was burned. That’s when I realized she was
Role + incubating me.
Role +
Role + Sitting up, I saw that I was not the only one. Rows and rows
Role + of babies in glass balls identical to mine, all with fleshy
Role + tubes sticking out from their bodies and each with a mage warming
Role + them. It was a horrendous sight, especially when I realized just
Role + how many of us had physical deformities of one kind or
Role + another. I was one of the lucky ones, my deformities were minor
Role + as compared to those of some others. Babies with three legs, or
Role + or two heads, or arms protruding from the side of their face
Role + were not uncommon. What kind of twisted operation was I a part
Role + of?
Role +
Role + As I was lying there pondering that question, mind you I was
Role + only minutes old by this time, I noticed a large gathering of
Role + women off to my right. They were standing around one of only
Role + a few empty glass balls with their hands joined. One was
Role + uttering a few arcane words while the others breathed deeply,
Role + a magical aura radiating from every pore of their skin. Moments
Role + later a baby lay in the ball they were standing around, that’s
Role + when it struck me. They were circumventing nature’s roll in
Role + childbirth!
Role +
Role + I immediately started crying, as babies are prone to do, but
Role + I didn’t know why. I felt nothing, there wasn’t any pain or
Role + anxiety, no fear or disgust, I simply cried.
Role +
Role + As we grew older we were moved into segregated holding pins,
Role + I call them pins because that’s what they were. They certainly
Role + did not deserve to be called “rooms”. They were only big enough
Role + to lie down in, and even then your arms had to be at your side
Role + or over your chest. The cold floor made for long sleepless nights
Role + and the walls were thin enough to hear the sobbing coming from the
Role + adjacent pins. I didn’t cry though, I didn’t feel the need.
Role +
Role + ADOLESCENCE
Role +
Role + We were subjected to test after test, our deficiencies coldly
Role + noted each time in book after book of notes. The unlucky
Role + ones had their brains disintegrated with a word. Unfortunately, I
Role + was one of the “lucky” ones, a boy whose deformities were not
Role + detrimental to life and who was capable of work. Those of us
Role + who could live without outside aid were shipped to a small
Role + village. There we were allowed to do as we saw fit, most of us
Role + working to provide shelter and food for ourselves. It was nearly
Role + an ordinary existence.
Role +
Role + Ordinary except that we weren’t human, we were objects, twisted
Role + beings whose whole existence was owed to magic. It gave us life
Role + and could just as easily give us death. Many were content
Role + with what they had. I had no real reason to be disgusted with
Role + myself for I was far better off than most. I don’t know
Role + if I was the only one, but I was envious of the magi that created
Role + us. They laughed, they cried, they got angry. All of these
Role + things, which I knew to be emotions, seemed absent from my “life”.
Role + I felt, well, I feel soulless.
Role +
Role + DEFORMITIES
Role +
Role + Yes, soulless. I seem to be incapable of emotion. I can’t feel
Role + happy, sad, angry, or even love. The one thing that makes life
Role + life seems to be missing. A cruel irony, for is the spawn of
Role + magic really a living being? That’s why I was envious of the
Role + magi, they were living while I was simply existing.
Role +
Role + Earlier I mentioned the physical deformities of some of those
Role + around me. Legs or arms in places where they didn’t belong,
Role + extra heads, and so on. I had wings. Large, fleshy wings devoid
Role + of feathers. They were bat-like in appearance and, were I capable
Role + of such emotion, I would be ashamed of them.
Role +
Role + It also came to be known that all of us were infertile. I guess
Role + that makes sense, why would the magi bestow upon us the ability
Role + to maintain something that they were trying to destroy, the need
Role + for natural childbirth?
Role +
Role + REVOLUTION
Role +
Role + Needless to say many of us spawn were displeased with our living
Role + conditions and more generally our very existence. Most, well
Role + those who were capable of it, were enraged by being a mockery
Role + of nature (something that seemed perfect as compared to our
Role + shortcomings). Some knew they were imperfect and hated the magi,
Role + if not for working to circumvent nature then for doing a poor job
Role + of it. I was incapable of hate, but in my mind I knew that the magi
Role + were wrong for what they did.
Role +
Role + The magi had made one crucial error, they didn’t plan for any
Role + backlash from their creations. They had left their defenses
Role + dwindle after so many generations of subservient and otherwise
Role + passive spawn and my generation took full advantage of it. Many
Role + of our creators were killed by gnashing teeth or brutal blows,
Role + but some retreated and survived. We had earned our freedom and
Role + I would waste no time putting distance between myself and that
Role + way of life.
Role +
Role + KNOWN THERA
Role +
Role + Through some strange twist of fate I made my way to Galadon and
Role + more generally the Thera that most mortal adventurers have come
Role + to know. I scraped by on the strength of my wits and my relatively
Role + high threshold for physical pain and adversity.
Role +
Role + I knew I should be feeling something, but I wasn’t sure what.
Role + Maybe sadness or anger at my plight. Perhaps happiness because
Role + I had escaped. I couldn’t know for sure, I was a purely physical
Role + and intellectual being, probably doomed to be without emotion for
Role + the entirety of my existence. In any event, I came to enjoy relaxing
Role + in the various pubs and taverns of Thera, mainly because it allowed
Role + me to observe many people. I recognized the emotions of those around
Role + me, but was unable to feel them myself. I could mimic them, but like
Role + any imitation it would only be a hollow reflection.
Role +
Role + After one particularly long night in a bar I heard singing from
Role + an adjacent room. I wandered (staggered) in and found myself
Role + a nice place to sit down. I listened as a bard sang a song
Role + and actually felt a glimmer of energy from within. I actually
Role + felt as though my spirits had been lifted. Maybe it was just
Role + an intellectual reaction to the words, or maybe the music actually
Role + moved me. Whichever it was it provided a trace of hope, hope
Role + for a new and “real” life. At that very instant I devoted myself
Role + to the bardic art.
Role +
Role + “HATRED”
Role +
Role + I had also decided that I would strive towards stopping magic
Role + from progressing as far as it had at the outer reaches of the
Role + world. I decided that this place that had given me hope in
Role + actually living one day should remain free of magic’s twisted
Role + actions. Those magi that I had envied so early in life were
Role + just as soulless as I, but unlike myself, they were seeking to
Role + to create a world in which EVERYBODY was free of life, free
Role + of a soul. I couldn’t let them succeed.
Role +
Role + I came to start forming opinions about magic and its users. I
Role + see it as a soulless art, one driven by greed and lust for power.
Role + It’s an art which seeks to drastically alter the order of the
Role + world, discarding nature and all of its elements, including the
Role + soul (spirit), and replacing it with a life made in its own likeness.
Role + It’s an art manipulated and utilized by the uncourageous, the
Role + foolhardy, and the sedentary. It’s an art that defiles and defames
Role + the gifts of the gods (most notably the soul) and swipes power from
Role + their hands.