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Dawn Treader: Stories of the Azure Empire

Dawn Treader: Stories of the Azure Empire

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A foretold legend of a hero, an advancing army, and a fragile peace between two kingdoms.

1,061 readers have visited Dawn Treader: Stories of the Azure Empire since Seraph created it.

Introduction

The Azure Empire's leadership has died, and the heiress is left in the countryside, unknowingly the progeny of a royal family. The Demon King seeks to destroy the Azure kingdom, and then its neighboring kingdom of the Lycanthropes. The ambassador of the Vampires has since dispatched and left for their forsworn enemies the Werewolves. The foretold warrior that will aide in the search for the princess and her protection are paramount. The Demon King's warriors; feared for being ruthless salivate at their chance to strike revenge for a debt made long ago.

The World

The Vampiric fiefdom of Azure, belongs to of course-the vampires. It is a menagerie, collection; what we consider as countries they call "City-States". Fragmented amongst the vampire sects of the imposing Camarilla and the Sabbat. Though the two are distinguishable only by the way they are ruled and what bloodlines they hail from-They are run much the same. However, both share vast amounts of riches in various forms; two of the most abundant are technology and knowledge. They are highly advanced--skyscraper buildings, and filthy streets make up their cities. The two capital cities of Ruben and Arogna are the paragons of mechanical industry. Their refuge from the creatures in the wild and their sworn enemy the Werewolves or Lupines also called the "Garou". Outlying settlements have been completely wiped out by these hated enemies of the vampires.

It is said that deep in the woods, strange creatures lurk. Humanity- as helpless as it seems they are in the midst of this eternal feud- have nonetheless reported strange sightings. Panicked farmers sprawling, rushing screaming bloody murder from the delirium that has set in from sightings of a werewolf's battle form. The werewolves themselves, stick to less densely populated suburbs, while a few linger in the cities the majority roam the vast wilderness that surrounds the vampiric nests. These were-creatures come in various forms; from horse-sized dire wolves, to nine-foot killing machines that incite an abundance of panic in normal humans and indeed give considerable fear to vampires especially when frenzied. While capable of intelligence and wit- a werewolf's truest power is raw physical strength and cunning--a vast understanding of the wild landscapes and specialized locals called "Caerns"

A caern is a natural upwelling of Gnosis, the spiritual energies of Gaia, used by the Garou to power their gifts. Caerns also have a very thin Gauntlet, allowing easier congress between the physical world and the Umbra. It's possible that a caern's Gnosis actually comes from the Umbra in this fashion.
Caerns are very holy sites to the Garou and other Fera, and they will work to their utmost to claim them and protect them. Occasionally this will mean claiming it form another group who isn't looking after it responsibly. The Garou social unit of the sept tends to be centered around a caern. Moon Bridges may be opened allowing rapid travel between certain allied caerns.

Able to traverse the Umbra is another gift of the werewolves and the were creatures in general; The Umbra is a realm existing alongside, and yet seperate from, the material world. Some consider it an alternate dimension. The term "Umbra" is generally used, particularly by werewolves, to refer specifically to the "Spirit Wilds," or Middle Umbra. However, there is much more to Umbral cosmology than this. Some levels of the Umbra are dangerous now, especially to werecreatures because the Wyrm manifests particularly in these environments to the point it taints anything that enters these levels.

The company Pentex has spread corruption abound, the world over. Near and distant lands feel the taint of the Wyrm. The corruption feeding on, and twisting every deplorable act; elected officials assassinated, land pollution, and the destruction of ancient sites by this company have left it incredibly wealthy and in turn--uses such wealth and resources to twist an bend the weak willed to their will. Some become so engrossed by the riches, that they are physically mutated by their weakness. It is also by this measure, that the vampires have turned a blind eye to their industry and allowed them to proper--they are a city dwelling species after all.


Pentex controls a myriad of pharmaceutical organizations, plethora of natrual resource collection agencies. The company as a whole seems hell bent on destroying the Garou as a whole because they are the most hostile towards human-vampire advancement. Werewolves see themselves as Gaia's protectors in whatever they do and so the encroaching formori and vampire settlements would stand as bastions of a flaunting mockery of everything "unnatural".


Wyrm, Weaver and Wyld

According to the mages the three primordial cosmic forces of the multiverse are Dynamism, Stasis, and Entropy. The vampires of Clan Danava call those same three cosmic forces Creation, Preservation, and Purification, respectively. Each member of the Triat is the divine psyche of one of these three cosmic forces. Once upon a time, these three Triatic gods worked in balance with each other. For reasons that differ according to whose myth you hear, the Triat fell to fighting each other, and so fell from grace. Each Triatic god became a corruption of its former self, each turning their divine abilities into weapons against each other. The Creator became a renderer of insanity, the Preserver became an enslaver, and the Purifier became a senseless destroyer. It is as gods fallen from grace that they are currently known. The deity that was once the Creator is now known as the Wyld, the deity that was once the Preserver is now known as the Weaver, and the deity that was once the Purifier is now known as the Wyrm.

The deity known simply as the "Demon King" is a physical manifestation of the Wyld's twisted machination of what it once represented. The Wyrm is an incarnate level spirit of the Triat whose original purpose was to maintain the balance between the chaos of the Wyld and the rigid order of the Weaver. By consuming the ordered structures of the Weaver, it would return ordered pattern back to raw energy, thus bringing everything into balance. But it is also believed that, It would also keep the balance between things via encouraging the Wyld to spread its chaos were things were too ordered and encouraging the Weaver to push order where there were areas of too much chaos. In this time the Wyrm represented decay, entropy, and most importantly balance.

However when the Triat fell out of balance because of the Weaver's insanity, the Wyrm too fell out of balance. And while the Weaver didn't change her original purpose (just how that purpose was... enforced), the Wyrm changed dramatically. What was once balance was now replaced with corruption. Places of the Wyrm within the Umbra, such as Malfeas, include places that are tainted with areas that appear as if they have been burnt down, and contain a putrid smell of decay and blighted radioactive green pools. However, they can also contain intangible "feelings", such as Rage, lust, greed, or an over whelming feeling of insanity. As the Wyrm's tendrils can get into anything, the over all feeling of "wyrmyness" is more of a psychic feeling than an actual tangible thing.

The Wyrms Minions.

Trapped in the pattern web for an endless period of time, the Wyrm had nothing to eat but itself. Struggling to free itself, it tried many different ways, and in doing so, it fractured its mind into many parts. However three parts became dominate in the Wyrm's struggle. These parts are now known today as the Triadic Wyrm. Each of these three aspects of the hydra's head acts also as a twisted mirror of the three Triat Spirits. As the Wyrm can sink its teeth into everything and corrupt its aspect, thus too there are many other "minor" heads born of the thoughts, feelings, dreams and desires of the beast. These Urge Wyrms were small enough to spill through the spaces of the pattern web that encased the Wyrm, and went forth seeking new hosts and victims to inflict their messages upon. But the Wyrm also has physical substances in which it can draw power from and hold to manifest.

These twisted corruptions of basic elements are known as Elemental Wyrms. Most of which are the corrupted elements of fire, earth, air and water These and all minor spirits under them are known as Banes. Spirits that have been twisted to serve the Wyrm's purpose of death, destruction, depravity, and desecration. Feeding off the negative energies, pollution, and trauma of the suffering mankind inflicts on itself, its environment, and Gaia in general, they can become great swarms around the worst places of the Wyrm's infection. With this spiritual foot hold in the world, the Wyrm has been able to make a stranglehold on the physical world. Using banes as a way to promise power to the weak willed and creating twisted possessed humans or sometimes animals called Fomor, (fomori is plural). It also hides its face through the vast fiefdom known as Pentex and its many subsidiaries. But it takes very perverse pleasure in knowing that it brought down one of Gaia's own with the fallen tribe known as the Black Spiral Dancers. The warped mockeries of the White Howlers. These are amongst the highest ranking and deadliest of the "demons" that the Demon King employs.

Banes are evil spirits in service to the Wyrm. Banes run the full gamut, from weak and relatively harmless to hideously powerful creatures capable of rending reality around them.

Weak Banes are frequently used to infect humans and animals, turning them into fomori. More powerful Banes can completely possess their host, obliterating all traces of their previous personality.

More powerful Banes can also materialize in the real world, without need to possess a host. They will simply manifest horrible twisted versions of their spiritual form in the real world and go about their business.

There are many different types of Banes, some of the more notable times include:

Elemental Banes- these mirror the traditional four elements in corrupted form. Toxin, smog, sludge, and balefire. Balefire banes are the most feared as they can produce horrible mutations in creatures that come in contact with them.

Scrags- these are warrior banes covered in chitanous armour. They frequently run in packs and will actively hunt creatures of Gaia

Psychomachaie- Psychomachae are powerful banes that feed on carnage and death. They often possess weak willed humans and send them on killing sprees. They may also subtly whisper into the ear of their targets, encouraging them to engage in even more brutal acts. Many callous vampires unwittingly attract psychomachae, due to their brutal feeding habits.

Nexus Crawlers- these powerful creatures warp reality around them like its silly putty. Reality literally MELTS around them. They are one of the most powerful Wyrm spirits Garou are ever likely to encounter... and many Garou never live to tell of such encounters.

The Maeljin Incarna- the 13 demon lords of Malfeas, the Maeljin Incarna each serve one of the heads of the Hydra. Each is more hideous than the last. Fortunately they are generally found only in Malfeas, so garou are unlikely to ever encounter them directly...at least until the Apocalypse comes and they ride out at the front of the armies of the Wyrm. The Maeljin Incarna are easily capable of destorying entire septs of Garou by themselves.
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Though there are two there are two main empires in a fragile alliance, there are more than vampires and werewolves involved. Many races have come together-albeit, uneasily- to fight the menacing threat that looms.

Werewolves- Also called the "Garou" by all species but human. They are prided on the fact they are "Luna's Warriors". Born from wolf, or human pairings; werewolves not capable of mating together successfully--they have five differing forms as with any changing breed.

Human: Human form. A Garou appears to be a normal, if very fit and healthy, human. An unconscious or dead werewolf returns to this form. This is the form most Uratha are most comfortable with.

Glabros: Near-human form. The Garou is significantly bigger, hairier and stronger. Ears, teeth and nails are slightly pointed and the face is more angular. Facial hair is noticeable even on females. This form reacts in a similar manner as that of the human form.

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Crinos: The terriable "War Form" of the Garou. This form instills delirium in any humans who see it. Half man, half wolf, Crinos forms typically reach over nine feet in height and weigh 400 or more pounds. Their fur retains the coloring of their lupus form, and can be patterned or shaded. Werewolves in Crinos Form deal Aggravated Damage with their fangs and claws, which are more difficult to heal than other kinds of wounds.

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Hispo: near-wolf form. A Werewolf in this form is a huge wolf 3 to 5 feet (1.5 m) high at the shoulder, resembling the extinct dire wolf. This form reacts in a similar manner as the wolf form.

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Lupus: Wolf form. The Garou is indistinguishable from a normal Grey wolf. Depending on the area where the Garou comes from, respectively which area shaped the majority of his ancestors, this form differs. If there are Grey wolves in the area, this form looks similar to these wolves respectively similar to other canines like the African wild dog, dhole, or red wolf (but never like domestic dogs) . Some Garou of Africa and the Near East even developed forms similar in coloration and to a certain extent build of hyena.

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There are separate clans with separate rules; I will list the tribes and the Auspices:

Auspice: Auspice is the term for the phase of the moon under which a Garou was born, There are five Auspices, as follow:

Ragabash: The Garou borned under the New Moon. His role is the Trickster and Questioner of the Old-Ways.

Theurge: When there is only a small portion of the moon visible, the Garou is a Theurge. He is the Shaman, more in contact with the spiritual world, the Umbra and the spirits.

Philodox: The Half-Moon are Judges and Mediators in Garou society. They usually are the leaders in time of peace.

Galliard: The ones who are born when the moon is Gibbous are the so-called Bards and Keepers of ancient Lore, who know of all the ancient legends and songs.

Ahroun: The Full Moon represents the war aspect of Luna (the Moon) and these Garou are the most fierce Warriors. They usually step into leadership during war-time.


* Black Furies-Black Furies are a tribe are exclusively all female. And despite what anyone thinks, to call a Fury weak or to insult the fact that she is female is to for fit ones life. These wild women once only hailing from Greece, can be found world wide, are known for their ferocity in battle,

* Bone Gnawers- Bone Gnawers and Glass Walkers are the two tribes that dare call the scab like cities their homes. However unlike the Glass Walkers, the Bone Gnawers don't have money, they don't have wealth, they don't have high connections. They barely have enough to survive, but that suits them just fine. The Bone Gnawers are seen as the lowest of the low among the other tribes in the Garou Nation. Seen by most as filthy cowards who would turn in their own mother for a warm meal and a change of clothes. However, this is far from the truth when it comes to Rat's children. For the Omega Tribe, a little kindness can go along way. Yes they are dirty, yes they are smelly, and yes they will most likely scrape as much money out of you as they can. But they are Survivors and they are devoted to their Kinfolk.

* Children of Gaia- The Children of Gaia are primarily interested in joining together all of the tribes as one, despite the glaring hatred some have for each other, like the Get of Fenris and the Black Furies. Many consider them as well-meaning but naïve tree-huggers who talk too much and do too little, but of course that's not how the Children of Gaia perceive themselves and their duty. One of their practices is to teach humans better behavior to shield them against the Wyrm's corruption. Their reputation as being 'soft' is a result of this. This image of the tribe is the one thing that hinders the tribe the most. But besides their reputation, the Children are just as potent fighters as all the other Garou. Their access to a unique self-healing power especially makes them dangerous opponents. While they fight hard battles against the Wyrm's minions they also use subtle ways of combat. In addition, most Children of Gaia don't see fighting duels as a suitable way to solve disputes with other Garou, so their hesitation might be perceived as cowardly, if a Child of Gaia is challenged to a duel.

* Fianna- Fianna as a passionate tribe of Garou, descended from Celtic cultures. Widely known for their storytellers, bards, musicians, poets and other artistic types, the Fianna are true madmen whose love for parties, alcohol and company can easily turn into fierce hatred, bloodlust and feral rage. The Fianna claim that the first Galliard was a Fianna and they're known for their blood-ties to the fairy-folk.

Every Fianna has a story to tell and few can live up the skill with which twist their tongue, though Silent Striders come closer than any other tribe. Fianna lust for a good fight is possibly matched by the Black Furies, whom they tend to hit on at grand moots, and Get of Fenris. Even though they share kin with the Fenrir, they are on bitter terms with each other due to several teritorial disputes between the two tribes, and the tribes kin. For this same reason the Fianna have feuded with the Silver Fangs in the past, though as a tribe they generally respect the Fangs leadership and the honor they show to the spirits. The Fianna have warm relationships with the Children of Gaia and Bone Gnawers.

* Glass Walkers- A Garou tribe of the Western Concordiate, the Glass Walkers are the wolves of the cities, sharing that realm with the Bone Gnawers. Whereas the latter tribe holds the streets and slums as its domain, the Glass Walkers are in the thick of the financial and technological flow, fighting their battles as often with guns, computers, and bank accounts as with fang and claw. Taking the unusual totem Cockroach as their spiritual patron, though it could be argued that he adopted them, The Glass Walkers find themselves semi-pariahs among their brethren for their love for the city (and, to a lesser extent, for their affinity for humanity and its technology, which some other tribes proclaim as evidence of their corruption by the Weaver), but continue marching to the sound of their synthesized drums, confident that their chosen lifestyle holds the key to preserving Gaia.

All duties that the tribe holds are divided among the four houses of the tribe. Normally each house should be represented in each city, but if there aren’t enough Glass Walkers around, some duties are taken over by the houses present.

* Get of Fenris - The Get of Fenris traces their roots to Germanic tribes and wolf packs of Germania and Scandinavia. They are known as fierce and unforgiving warriors. They constantly train in battle, duel, engage in survival activities to hone their warrior skills. Cult of strength and endurance is so prevailing that they prize every battle-scar and sometimes engage in ritual (self)mutilation to prove themselves.

The tribal totem Fenris, takes on a different role than said wolf takes in your historical Norse myth. The roles of the Jotuns and Asgard have been mixed, in a similar fashion to the mythos of the Space Wolves. Fenris is a major incarna, in service to Luna and Gaia.

They are infamous for the constant "testing" the other tribes of Garou for being fit for being true defenders of Gaia. In practice they challenge other tribes to duels and take over their caerns if they are unable to defend them. It was for this reason (or pretext) that they have beebeen engaged in a series of battles with the Fianna tribe and were a primary force in war with the Uktena and Wendigo tribes and their Native-American kinfolk.

They are also notorious for being unable to compromise and prone to rage - the reason they are derided by other tribes. Also, more manipulative tribes (like the Shadow Lords) tend to think of Fenrir as of cannon fodder.

* Red Talons- Red Talons are the most separatist of the Garou tribes, camping in the far wilderness far from humanity, whom they despise. Red Talon beliefs hold that man, including all human kinfolk, is a "cancer" upon the earth completely corrupted by the Wyrm, For that reason along with the belief that humans have no instincts, the tribe only allows lupus members, products of Garou/wolf breeding. Red Talons were instrumental in the "Impergium", the forceful control of human populations through violence, some elders known as the Winter Council are trying to reestablish the "Impergium". Though no one out side the Red Talons know about the Winter Council. The Red Talons claim to have invented the Garou runes when their leader clawed the Silver Fang leader during the inception of the tribes, saying that the mark would be their clan name. To the Red Talons the life of one wolf is worth more than any number of human lives. The Talons do everything they can to protect all wolves. However, because they reject their human halves, they cannot do much except kill interlopers.

Talons follow tradition closely - not the tradition of Silver Fangs, but that of their wolf brethren. More than any other tribe, the Red Talons decide their hierarchy by strength, cunning, and endurance. Pack members test each other at a sign of weakness, and the one most fit for leadership assumes the role of alpha. The alpha demands unquestioned loyalty from the pack, and he gets it. He eats first of the best portion of the kill, followed by the rest of the pack in descending order of status, yet no member of the pack goes hungry. Tribal law is clear-cut. If a crime has been committed against the Garou, the pack does not indulge in haggling or soul searching. It delivers justice swiftly and moves on.

Red Talons dwell in wilderness away from noise and human settlements. Their territory is often "posted" with skulls of trespassers. More than any other werewolves, Talons are at home in the wilderness, following paths others fear to tread. Even their detractors among other tribes must admit that the Talons have long memories, and that they probably practice rites and keep secrets long forgotten by the rest of the Garou.

* Shadow Lords- Well-known for their roles as betas to the Silver Fangs Tribe a long time ago these merciless garou have since then turned on their leaders, deeming them unfit to rule. They now fight to seize a crown they believe is too heavy of a burden for the waning Fangs to bear, and be it with their inhuman strength, cunning schemes or dark Gifts the Children of Grandfather Thunder are eager to lead the Garou Nation to a new Era of ruthless leadership and victory.

* Silent Striders- The Silent Striders were exiled from their homeland of Egypt by the Followers of Set, and have been roaming the world ever since. Since their exile, they have traveled the world, and their kin are now the Gypsies, better known as the Roma. They are cursed to always travel, yet yearn for a home to call their own. Many serve as messengers and couriers, traveling from caern to caern as a global information network.

* Silver Fangs- The Silver Fangs are the traditional rulers of the Garou Nation, with literally millennia of selective breeding and heroic tradition behind them. While many of the Garou Nation's finest leaders and warriors have come from the ranks of the Silver Fangs, in recent centuries the tribe's stock has fallen dramatically among its ostensible citizenry. Centuries and centuries of inbreeding has caught up with the tribe, with madness and stubborn clinging to tradition becoming more and more common among its senior members.

* Uktena- Uktena are said to be animistic peoples from all over the world. Most are of Native American heritage, though adopted werewolves are from a variety of backgrounds. The Uktena are a tribe of mystics, shamans and arcanists; because of their close ties to the magical and knowledge of the arcane many fear that there are those among them who may be turning to the Dark Arts, and their history of having their land gradually taken from them have made some of the Uktena very bitter indeed. Their main talent lies in the sealing of Banes, and as such they may have deeper knowledge of the Wyrm than the other tribes are comfortable with.

* Wendigo- The Wendigo are wolves and indigenous peoples of the Arctic and Sub arctic of North America. Unlike their Brother Tribe the Uktena they have not actively begun to include other cultures outside of their traditional Kinfolk into the tribe. As a whole the Wendigo tribe carries a grudge against the rest of the Garou Nation (of which they consider themselves only nominally part) for the conquest of their caerns and protectorates during the European colonization of North America. It was this reckless time period that lead the Wendigo and Uktena to refer to non-Native Garou as Wyrmbringers. The grudge against Wyrmbringer Tribes can be expressed as mild condescension and mistrust among mainstream Wendigo to violent confrontation and guerilla warfare among the more extreme groups of the Tribe. Even before the conquest of the Pure Lands the Wendigo had a reputation as savage and vicious fighters; this has led them to have strong rivalries with the Get of Fenris tribe who have a similar reputation.
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The Vampires:

The Sects:

Camarilla


Born in the wake of the great inquisition, fearing the great power the masses of the Kine displayed when driven by faith. The Camarilla is a strict and rigid organization enforcing a policy of non disclosure. Led by a shadowy conclave of old and powerful but anonymous Kindred known only as the inner council, who are represented by seven powerful vampires known as the Justicar, appointed for a period of thirteen years. The Camarilla sees all Kindred as being part of its organization, and in truth most Kindred are. The Camarilla's dominion encompasses most of the old world, northwestern Africa, and great tracts of north America as well as a small enclave in eastern Asia. The Australian kindred also officially pay allegiance to the Camarilla but in reality they are completely autonomous. The territories that fall under the dominion of the Camarilla are ruled by a powerful vampire who bears the title of Prince. The Prince presides over all the Kindred in his locale, and is the final arbiter in all kindred affairs there.

Clans:

Core Clans


* Brujah lan Brujah is largely composed of rebels, both with and without causes. Individualistic, outspoken and turbulent, Brujah hold social change near to their undead hearts, and the clan's ranks contain some of the most violent of the Camarilla Kindred. Most other vampires perceive the Brujah as nothing more than punks and miscreants, but the truth of the matter is that genuine passion lies behind their polemics.

Brujah adopt pet passions and causes, which they support with volume and vitriol. Some brujah follow charismatic members of their clan, while others prefer stances of blatant, defiant individualism. The clan claims a history rich with warrior-poets, and it has adapted this concept into the modern night; many Brujah are glad to have an opportunity to speak their minds, then indulge in a bit of destruction afterwards to illustrate their points.

The Rabble's espousal of change unites them, albeit tenuously, in their nightly crusades. Given a common enemy, Brujah with vastly differing ideals will join side by side to oppose their foe. After that foe is defeated, however, all bets are off and it's back to business as usual. A common Brujah theme involves the foundation of a Kindred "Utopia," or the re-creation of a mythical one from nights past, though each Brujah vampire has a different idea of what said Utopia is.

Brujah rely on chaotic behavior and upheaval to get their ideas across, and the Rabble are allowed a certain leeway that other clans do not have. In fact, Brujah are almost expected to be incoherent and bellicose; this stereotype works to the advantage of many eloquent, well-spoken members of the clan, who have no need to resort to violence when making their arguments.

Respected for their martialry and readiness to rally under a banner, the Brujah are the phyisical strength of the Camarilla. Of late, however, many Rabble neonates see their role in the Camarilla as an institution unto itself, and more than a little unrest circulates among the clan.

* Gangrel Of all the vampires, the Gangrel are perhaps closest to their inner nature. These nomadic loners spurn the constraints of society, preferring the comfort of the wilderness. How they avoid the wrath of the werewolves is unknown; perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the Gangrel are themselves shapeshifters. When a mortal speaks of a vampire changing into a wolf or a bat, she is probably speaking of a Gangrel.

Like the Brujah, Gangrel are fierce warriors; unlike the Brujah, Gangrel ferocity does not stem from anarchic rage, but from animalistic instinct. They are among the most predatory Kindred, and love to lose themselves in the thrill of the hunt. Gangrel have a keen understanding of the Beast in their souls, and prefer to spend their nights in communion with the animals whom they so emulate. Indeed, Gangrel are so attuned to their Beasts that, after losing themselves to frenzy, animalistic features often appear on their bodies.

The clan itself has little contact with, or regard for, the rest of the Kindred. This might be due to a desire to avoid the snares of the Jyhad, but is more likely the product of simple disinterest. Certainly, Gangrel are popularly viewed as quiet, taciturn and reclusive. Although there is no more truth to this than there is to any other stereotype, the clan as a whole displays little of the ostentation found among lines such as the Toreador or Ventrue.

* Malkavian The Malkavians are a Clan of Kindred cursed with insanity. Every Malkavian is in some fashion insane; in short terms, they have at least one derangement they can never remove. They are one of the original seven clans of the Camarilla and, strangely enough, a pillar of the organization. Throughout history, the Malkavians have been the seers and oracles of the Kindred, bound by strange compulsions and insight.

* Nosferatu The most visibly cursed of all Kindred, the Embrace warps each Nosferatu into a hideously deformed creature; the archetypal Nosferatu resembles Max Shreck's Count Orlok, though the curse has any number of variations. The Nosferatu are the spymasters of the dead, collecting information and selling it for a dear price. They are also the masters of the underground, living in the sewers for protection.

* Toreador It is said that while the Ventrue are the mind of the Camarilla, the Toreador are it's soul. It was one of their number, Rafael de Corazon, who was instrumental in it's formation. The Toreador are the greatest supporters of many of the Camarilla's traditions, most notably that of Elysium. This is where the Toreador are in their element, showcasing their latest pieces and practicing their highly effective (and sometimes deadly) form of social manouvering. From the outside, most other Clans think of one face of the Toreador, but see another. When speaking of them to another, most envision Toreador as the Artists - billowy shirted, frock-coated fops who crow about the beauty of the ages and lamenting their lost humanity. In reality, outsiders are less likely to meet such characters, given as they are to sequestering themselves away to work on their latest masterpiece. Far more often encountered are those Toreador whose unlives have become dedicated to the Kindred social scene - Toreador are often a large contingent of the city's Harpies, and having spent years with their bitchy and conniving clan-mates they are more than capable of ruining someone's reputation with a pithy comeback or a damning piece of gossip whispered in just the right ear.

* Tremere Clan Tremere is one of the youngest vampire clans, having just come into existence during the dark ages. In the little time since then they have made incredible inroads within vampiric society and are arguably the most powerful clan in the modern nights. This is due in no small part to their strict heirarchy, secretive nature, and mastery of Thaumaturgy, all of which elicit suspicion, fear, and respect from other Cainites. The Warlocks stand as a pillar of the Camarilla and are one its main defenders, despite the fact that they exist almost as a subsect. Some even go so far as to consider themselves the evolution of vampirism, citing their extreme versatility of blood magic and lack of a true clan curse. The Final Nights have many things in store for the Tremere, however, and the more powerful they grow the more their enemies gather.

* Ventrue Clan Ventrue has long been one of the proudest lines of vampires, and its members work hard to maintain a reputation for honor, genteel behavior, and leadership. A sense of noblesse oblige has ever pervaded the clan, accompanied by the genuine belief that the Ventrue know what's best for everyone. Considering themselves the oldest Clan, it's no surprise they see themselves as the enforcers of tradition and the rightful leaders of vampire society. Unsurprisingly, they've long been chosen from the ranks of nobility and privilege, traditionally those roles have included kings, knights, and merchant princes. The general belief is that the Ventrue, a clan considered old-fashioned by most, is floundering in these latter nights; however, the Ventrue have a long history of adapting to keep hold of their power.

Sabbat The Sabbat is a loose sect of vampires that believes Cainites should accept their vampiric nature and subjugate humanity as the inferior species. Also known as the Sword of Caine, the sect has the stated goal of destroying the Antediluvians, who they believe are the masterminds behind the Camarilla and the Jyhad.

The Sabbat is at best ironic, at worst dangerously hypocritical. It is composed of both the oldest and the youngest vampires in the world, who rejoice in their damnation while fearing for their souls, and fight against the Antediluvians, the elders, and their own pack members.

* Lasombra The Lasombra are a clan driven by ambition, and consequently they accept diablerie as a necessary facet of their existence; from the Lasombra perspective, the only tragedy in diablerie is that such an unworthy vampire as the vessel was sired in the first place. The courts regulate diablerie by accepting petitions to diablerize other Lasombra and authorize hunts - these hunts usually have conditions attached because the target must be guilty of something before the hunt is authorized. The court system ensures that diablerie is managed - Lasombra are allowed, if not flat-out encouraged to cannibalize appropriate targets, but those targets must be judged worthy of this attention by a court before the attack can take place.

* Tzimisce The Tzimisce were once the most feared of all clans. With the downfall of feudalism, and the rise of the usurper Tremere, they are a shadow of their former selves. Disjointed as any clan in the Sabbat, they don't even fill the majority of the leadership positions. Still, they hold a great deal of power, regardless of who realizes it. The clan has access to many powerful sorceries, Disciplines, and eldritch lore.

* Assamite Assamites are a dangerous sect of vampire; stealthy, unseen and unheard until the moment to strike is at hand. They are masters of assassination. Often, there is no trace back to the Assamite involved-even the younger clanmates leave a difficult trail to follow except by anyone not older than they themselves are.

* Ravnos Western Ravnos, historically connected with the oppressed Rroma, maintained a strong sense of clan solidarity for a very long time. The most common manifestation of this solidarity was through a form of retaliation called "The Treatment". The Treatment was a vengeance attack where a mistreated Ravnos would contact fellows in the clan, who would then swarm upon the city where the original Ravnos was victimized. In general, a dozen Ravnos running amok could bring even the most experienced Prince to the brink, and well-placed exaggerations about the impact of the Treatment was the main weapon the Ravnos used to squeeze out what place they did have in Western society.

In India, the Ravnos dominated the continent, probably the largest concentration of a single clan in one country. In several ways, the Ravnos paralleled the Assamites - both clans had a caste system invisble to outsiders, and both clans were defined by a military role.


The Sabbat's precise origins are unclear, but are likely the result of either a popular death-cult among Cainites in the Dark Ages, or a sect formed by vampires who were dissatsified with the results of the Convention of Thorns, which broke the back of the Anarch Revolt. Either way, the Sabbat is a collection of fierce, fanatical vampires who believe that the Kindred need not hide behind the Masquerade. Instead, the Sabbat delights in proving their superiority over mortals, often in graphic and violent ways. This has garnered them the emnity of the Camarilla, and they are widely regarded as bloodthirsty maniacs by those outside the sect.

The Sabbat is sometimes referred to as the "Sword of Caine", especially by those who adopt the religious mandate imposed by Sabbat elders.
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Other Changing Breeds:

Corax(Wereraven): Corax are a changing breed that is bases on avians, namely crows and ravens. But more namely Ravens. Their purpose given to them by Gaia was to act as her messengers and scouts. And whiles that seems redundant with there being changers like the Nuwisha, auspices like the Ragabash, and what have you. The birds have it down to an artform. The wereravens patrol the skies, always on the look out for danger. They are terrible chatterboxes and will tell what they have seen to any who care to listen. Traveling both the physical and umbral realms these sun-loving, shiny collecting chatter boxes work to gather secrets of all sorts and then scatter that information to those who need it.

Gurahl(werebear): The Gurahl are werebears, one of the surviving Changing Breeds. According to their lore, the Gurahl are Gaia's original protectors, created to ward off the destructive power of the "Pattern Breaker", but when it grew too powerful for them they petitioned Gaia for help, and she created the Garou.

Slower to anger, healers and protectors rather than warriors, the Gurahl are rare since the War of Rage. They were targeted for refusing to teach the Garou the secret of bringing the dead back to life. Gurahl are blessed by Gaia with strong wills, and many of the traits of their bear cousins. Their sense of smell is far superior to that of humans, though when in non-human forms their eyesight is poorer. They have a level of conscious control over their biorhythms, allowing them to alter the speed of their metabolisms, but are prey to the seasonal urges of bears, becoming sluggish and lazy in Winter.

Gurahl live solitary lives often in remote wilderness areas, and so seldom encounter other Fera. They have limited familiarity with the Ananasi or Rokea, and almost none at all with the Ajaba, Nagah or Kitsune.

While they are happy for the Ratkin to remain in their cities, they maintain friendly relations with the Bastet, Corax, Mokolé and Nuwisha, particularly missing the company of the latter. While they still feel great anger from the War of Rage, they are willing to look past it and work with the Garou, who they once knew as their little brothers, to stave off the apocalypse.

Pumonca(werecougar): The Pumonca are are one of the nine remaining tribes of the Bastet who are modeled after North American mountain lions also known as puma. Loners, wanderers, secretive hermits who watch the world around them and occasionally push things back into place, these are the traditional roles of the Pumonca werecat. A Pumonca is a longer among loners, whose travels take them across --- but rarely out of -- the North American continent.
Pumonca share a common tie with their land of birth. Some tales say that a cougar will die if they leave their home. From the southern swamps to the western plains and the eastern forests and hills, these wandering cats can be comfortable anywhere. While most hail from Native American ancestry, a number of their kind breed with settlers and trappers in times past.

Qualmi(werelynx): The Qualmi are one of the nine remaining tribes of the Bastet who are modeled after the lynxes of North America. And just like their feline Kin's coat changes to match the season: the Qualmi werelynx adapts to their surroundings. Enigmatic masters of animals and disguise, these Native American Bastet cloak their secrets in misdirection. Riddles fascinate them, and few of their kind offer straight answers to any question. For anyone with a literal mind, dealing with these Riddle Dancers can be a fruitless and infuriating effort. No wonder they live alone!

Mokole(werelizards): The Mokolé are one of the surviving Changing Breeds; they serve the role of the memories of Gaia. There are no surviving turtle or tortoise Mokole, and the snake varnas are now Nagah. The Mokole were nearly wiped out by the Garou during the War of Rage. Mokolé are very social with others of their kind, but are generally distrustful towards outsiders. A trait that all Mokolé share is the Mnesis ability, which allows them to remember thousands to millions of years into the past.

Nagah(wereserpent):The Nagah are wereserpents, one of the surviving Changing Breeds. Most of the Fera consider them to be extinct, wiped out in the War of Rage; this is according to their plans, for they act as Gaia's "secret police", assassins and judges who target and eliminate those among the Fera who fall to corruption. The Nagah are Unknown to a large portion of the other Changing Breeds, This is their plan, after the War of Rage (where they were targeted not only because of there position as the judges, but also because their snake-like apperence was mistaken for Wyrm-like)

Nuwisha(werecoyte): The werecoyotes are just as much trouble as their father, Old Man Coyote. They are always scheming, always ready to knock the mighty on their ass. They are frequently mistaken for Garou, but do not have the murderous Rage of their cousins.

Of all the Changing Breeds, it is the werecoyotes who have the strongest tie to the Umbra. They are tricksters, troublemakers, and jesters. Though once loyal to the moon in the same way as the Garou, they apparently perpetuated some prank against Luna so reprehensible that she turned her back on them entirely. As such, werecoyotes all represent the epitomy of the Ragabash auspice, having no Rage at all. Perhaps because of this, Delirium works differently with the werecoyotes. Rather than becoming terrified, mundane humans simply refuse to accept that a werecoyote in Manabozho form (the equivalent of Crinos) exists, giving them a sort of invisibility. This is known as The Trick. Their mastery of the Umbra and the weakness of their ties to instinct have caused many werecoyotes to largely abandon Earth and fight for Gaia (in their own perverse way) entirely in the Umbra.

Kitsune(Werefox): The werefoxes are magicians and politicians, holding together the society of Eastern shapeshifters in Jetual and Re'quire known as the Beast Courts. The Kitsune are werefoxes, the youngest of the Changing Breeds. Unique among the Fera, they are found only in the Middle Kingdom, living mostly in Jetualand Re'quire. Their animal form is a fox, and they serve a role in the Emerald Courts of the Green Mother similar to that of Ragabash in Garou society.

When Kitsune are born one or both of their parents die while or shortly after it's birth. Kitsune often try to teach lessons through their tricks. Seeing as they where created with the last of the strength of the Emerald mother they can not heal how the other changers can.

Since they have rarely (if ever) ventured outside Asia, the Kitsune were never a target in the War of Rage, and apparently did not exist during the War of Shame.

Rokea(wereshark):The Rokea are weresharks, one of the Changing Breeds. The Rokea claim to be the first of the Changing Breeds, as the Sea existed before solid land appeared on Gaia and sharks predate all land-born predators. Rokea are largely notoriously xenophobic and very few leave the water. Their relations with the other Changing Breeds are tense at best, with one exception: they have allied themselves with the Mokole, whom they consider closest to them between all the Changers. Rokea gather into small groups called slews, similar in purpose and behaviour to Garou packs. Much like Garou have caerns, Rokea have undersea sacred places, referred to as Grottoes. Rokea of the Beast Courts are referred to as Same-Bito.

Bastet Tribes(werecats): Bastet, like the Kitsune, were created by Luna (whom they call Selene). Rather than given a specific purpose, each tribe attempts to fill a gap where others didn't quite catch on.

Garou (and some others) refer to them as the Eyes of Gaia, since much contact comes in Egypt where the Silent Striders once allied with the Sorcerous Bubasti against the Vampire Set, and in North America where the Wendigo and Uktena have regular dealing with the enigmatic Qualmi.

The Tribes of Bastet include:

* Bagheera - Werepanthers/Wereleopards
* Balam - Werejaguars
* Bubasti - Werekaphur
* Khan - Weretigers
* Simba - Werelions
* Swara - Werecheetahs


There were also the Ceilican, Fae-tied werecats of Europe, but most died out hundreds of years ago. What remained were further decimated (or turned) by the Black Spiral Dancers recently. There may be a handful of them left untainted, but probably an equal handful left that now stand beside the Dancers.

One last "Tribe" may get a mention: the Khara were the Sabretooths of North America. They may have been the first Tribe, or may not. Since they were thought to be killed by an Ice Age, that may never be known.

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Azure by Seraph

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Magdalyn followed the woman and climbed onto the cart as she did but looked at her questioningly when she climbed onto the roof, telling her to follow. "I'm, I'm not so sure about this. I mean I'm hardly dressed to go..traversing over rooftops!" The cart was knocked by the crowds almost tipping it, which changed her mind about joining Miaka on the roof quickly. Grabbing onto the woman's hand she pushed herself, scrambling up awkwardly onto the roof, clinging to it like a scared cat. "I, I need to get to where that fire is burning!" That had to be where her hero had ran off to but the odd look the woman gave her called for more explanation on her part. "I know someone over there just, just take me there please!" There was no going back now, besides she figured the safest place to be was with the legend..right?

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Miaka tried not to laugh as the woman clung to the roof, but the urge disappeared into confusion. Why was the woman needing to go there so bad? Nodding at the second explanation, Miaka helped the ambassador stand up. "Ok, must be someone important for you to be jumping roofs. A man perhaps?" Miaka asked with a sly smirk. "Hold onto my hand, I won't let you fall. And use your other hand to hold up that dress; you trip on that and we're both going down." Hurrying across the roof, Miaka got to a small gap of an alley way and jumped across. "Grab my hand and jump, alright." Picking her path carefully, she chose to jump the smallest jumps as possible. Finally reaching the last roof, Miaka looked on suprised. The shrine was what was burning! "Filthy pirates from the looks of it." Looking around, Miaka smiled then pulled the woman towards the edge. "Last one!" Not giving her a chance to respond, Miaka jumped pulling the woman behind her, landing both of them into a pile of straw. "And there you have it. You Ok?" Miaka asked as she plucked a chicken feather out of her hair before pointing at the one stuck in the other woman's own hair.

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Before Magdalyn could even argue about jumping over roofs the woman had grabbed her hand and was yanking her around. Keeping up with an awkward stride, Mag held her dress up to help her run, mentally kicking herself at how improper this was. It seemed no matter what her mind was always with rules and formalities. They came to an alley and when Miaka told her they were to jump Mag's eyes widened. "Jump?!" With a squeak more than a scream, she jumped for her life and continued the run shakily. Finally, they came upon the source of the fire, a shrine burning and with a yank by Miaka they ended up in a pile of straw. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Mag stared at Miaka panting, wild eyed with straw sticking out of her hair. "Never...EVER again!" After she had shouted that she jumped at the sound of a battle and looked on as her hero battled a group of men. There were so many, could he handle them all? Before she even thought about what she was doing, Mag picked up a stray shingle that had fallen with them and chunked it at a pirate about to attack the hero. "Why, why did I just do that?" She asked no one in particular as the man's attention fell on them. Well..they were going to die.

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#, as written by Seraph
Kado sheathed his sword, he felt confident enough. He dashed forwards in swift momentum, ducking beneath a swinging sword. The arc of the blade came horizontally. Kado's form contorted, twisting sharply. Extending his own hands out, Kado latched onto the sword bearing hand of his assailant. Continuing with the moment and fluidity of his motion. The man was flung over his shoulder landing with a solidi impact upon the large stones that made up the courtyards path. The air expunged from his lungs forcefully Kado's left arm wrapped around the man's wrist while Kado's right hand broke the wrist joint and plunged the blade through the man's throat.

Another man ran at him from behind, but Kado's eyes shifted behind him quickly. Going to swing, Kado's reflexive capabilities became something supernatural. First, Kado sent a foot against the forward approaching foot. The man's ankle snapped backwards tearing his Achilles tendon and left the man to ground face first. Shifting his posture, Kado sat on his posterior, his knees raised. The man fell spot on. His jaw connected with Kado's knees breaking his spine. Throwing him aside, kicking upwards Kado leapt to his feet an turned.

Side stepping one blow, and then another; body turning sharply as his feet shifted and pivoted accordingly at high speeds. The last of the menagerie swung down and Kado turned his body letting the sword merely pass by. Gripping the mans ragged clothing, Kado brought his knee sharply into the man's face with enough acceleration to lift him with the blow. Each subsequent knee strike that Kado gave him, caused him to bounce. Finishing him, Kado led the man in a fast circle before releasing and brutally launching him into the wall. The man struck the stone facade, and the momentum alone ricochet off into another direction.

Clapping would then be heard as a tall, gangly appearing man approached from the temple from the direction of the outward lying peninsula that held the shrine of Ryujin. Stopping upon the steps of the temple itself, Kado's eyes turned upon him slowly.

"Nice work, now I don't have to split the reward. But, what can I say? You are the legend--or, were the legend."

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Miaka stared back and forth between the pirate and the ambassador. "Are you insane! Unlike the last guy, this one has a sword you know!" As the pirate started running towards them, Miaka withdrew two daggers hidden in her clothes, then stepped forward and waited. Swinging his sword down towards her, Miaka crossed her daggers and caught his blade; absorbing the force of his blow as she was forced onto her knees. Twisting her body then sweeping her leg behind his, Miaka knocked the pirate to the ground then crouched ontop of him with both daggers to his throat. "Miss Ambassador, now might be a good time to get out of here before he....Umph!" Not paying attention, the pirate flipped her onto her back and knocked both daggers from her reach. "Crud!"

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"I didn't think my actions through! I assumed he needed help!" It appeared not though as he took out the men quickly. Great, now they were going to die all for nothing! That's what she got for acting out! Ducking in the straw as the man approached, Miaka rose and attacked him. Magdalyn thought she had saved her once again but the man quickly turned the tables on her. Oh no! What could she do she had no weapons! Even if she did have a weapon she didn't know how to use one! The man raised his sword to take a final blow upon Miaka and, once again, without thinking she removed her shoe, narrowing her eyes at the man. With a leap, she tackled him, which caused him to stumble and drop his weapon. She latched to his head and began beating him with her shoe. "Haven't you ever heard not to hit women?!" She punctuated each word with a whop from her deadly blunt weapon.

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"She's nuts." Miaka stated matter-of-factly, watching the amabassador whopping the pirate with a shoe. If the situation wasn't so serious, she would have just sat back and enjoyed the show; but since it wasn't, Miaka quickly searched for her daggers. Grabbing one, she ran forward and kicked the blasted pirate where the sun don't shine. As he leaned over, Miaka flipped her dagger hilt down and struck hard on the back of his head, knocking him unconcious. "Thanks." Miaka said as she colllapsed to the ground. "I've always been better at sneaking away than fighting." Lifting an eyebrow at the shoe the ambassador used, Miaka let out a soft laugh.

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Mag grunted as she plopped to the ground after Miaka had knocked the man out. Well, that turned out better than she had hoped. She was certain the man would have done her in, after all she only had a shoe for defense. Oh, if her father could see her now, he'd die on the spot! She gave Miaka a nod as she thanked her then shot her a glare as she laughed. "Don't pick at me, it was the only thing I had." With a huff she put her shoe back on her foot then looked up back towards the hero. He seemed to be having a stare off with some tall Cerulean man, who was he? Grabbing Miaka's arm she tugged her behind the pile of straw, then peaked out to watch them in silence. She should be safely in her carriage on the way back home right now. Mag had no training for this sort of thing! Her only skills had to do with politics!

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#, as written by Seraph
Kado stared on at this unknown Cerulean. He was too...well, he wasn't a Spartan from the rumors of what a Spartan ought too look like. He was intimidating, but not THAT intimidating. He didn't have a statuesque physique. No. He was tall and rather scrawny appearing, even Kado himself looked to be much more solidly built.

"Well? Are we beginning? Draw your sword." The unnamed Cerulan warrior demand.

Bracing himself at first, his hands gripping his own weapon. One hand on the scabbard while the other loosely gripped the hilt. But something told him instinctively to not be so threatened by this man. Overconfidence, perhaps? No. It was more than simply pride that made his left foot slide back to shoulder width apart and stand straight.

"No. Your men are beaten. I will give you the luxury that I did not give them, simply so that you may return to your kingdom and tell them. Tell them that I am coming. Tell them, Ryujin will be guiding my sword from now on. The Cerulean Empire will fall at the tip of a sword, and that will be mine." Kado spoke with such conviction, it was as if whatever manifested inside of him, formally in discord, now expressed some sort of harmonization.

The warriors eyes at first expressed surprise, shock that an eighteen year old would speak those words. Definitely not to him. His courage threw him off a bit but eventually, he regained composure. Smiling wickedly, he began laughing at the warning given to him. Hi griped his bleach blond hair that was messy to start with, and ran his hands amuck in the greasy unbathed locks.

"You had me there for a minute, I must admit. But you are no different than any of these fools that never answered the call of my challenge! You're all about "peace" and "sobriety" and let us not forget your stupid code of Bu-"

In an instant, Kado had furled his fist, tensing the corded lean muscular arm and arched it back. Taking one solid step forwards; swinging it, he bridged the gap between himself and the marauder in a matter of not even could could be considered seconds. The blow snapped the raider's head to the side vehemently spraying a light speckle of blood to the wooden surface of the temple. Shocked and in disbelief, the rustler leapt back griping the side of his face. His eyes wide, and as he wiped the blood that had almost flooded his mouth he held his hand against his jaw.

"You bastard!" The way the pilferer spoke, it seemed muffled as though his jaw had been dislocated from the solid impact. "It makes no difference! We will die in an arena of fire and blood! It will be glorious! Set to explode around your idol, are kegs full of explosives."

Kado's eyes narrowed menacingly. His hand then took a much firmer grasp of the sword's hilt than previously. Stepping further inside after the mad man. the Cerulean warrior ran out the back and on to a narrow extension that created a bridged peninsula with an out cropping of rock that form a very small column of stone where the shrine was located. Sure enough, there were barrels around the stone statue.

"Your chance of returning has diminished. You set you punishment!" Kado spoke sternly, rising the sword p and directing its curved tip towards the warrior.

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Magdalyn hesitated for a minute before following the hero once again as he took off after the man. This was quite enough running, he had defeated all of those men why waste time for one more! She paused hearing the man speak about explosives around the shrine. They had to get out of here! He raised his blade, about to bring it down to end the Cerulean man's life and it seemed right at the last second she yelled to him."Stop! Didn't you hear him?! We need to get out of here, he isn't even worth your time. An entire kingdom is waiting for their saviour!"

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#, as written by Seraph
"Yes, boy, you really should listen to the servant girl. she can't think for her self, only through the orders she's been issued. Besides, dying for this Idol is hardly honorable." The stranger spoke, his voice saturated in venom.

Kado looked over his shoulder towards the ambassador. "I'm sorry. But I can't just let him blow apart a paragon of my world. You wouldn't want me to just walk away from a fight that consumed your city in disaster. Thousands of lives depend on this idol for guidance and without it, are lost. I can't allow that." Kado uttered the words with conviction.

He moved forwards, but as he did the vagabond warrior drew his sword. It looked unlike the ones the Jade Empire forged. No. It was leaf-shaped, ovular shaped blade that narrowed near the base of the hand guard. Retrieving a small orb from his coat he held it up high. It was a bomb of sorts an Kado reacted immediately, gripping the hilt of his own sword.

"I will burn your world, and all with in it in the flames of war!" The Cerulean warrior surmised before pivoting and throwing the large clay sphere.

Sailing through the air towards the casks of explosive powder, it smashed against wood and stone. The flammable liquid sprayed from the container as it broke apart. The warrior then rushed towards the statue of the winding dragon carved from a glittering jade shell. Kado rushed after him, drawing the sword with finesse.

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Miaka stared in disbelief from her spot behind the straw pile. The Cerulean was going to destroy the shrine, the young man was going to run straight into the middle of it, and the ambassador was standing to close and yelling at the man to forget it. Running forwards, Miaka grabbed the woman’s arm and started pulling. “Fool, you’ll get caught in the explosion standing this close! Look, if this has to do with that legend thing you’re here about; if he’s really that almighty hero your kingdom is putting their future in, this should be nothing for him. And if he does get his foolish tail killed, then you obviously got the wrong guy!” Harsh perhaps, but Miaka was getting impatient with the woman. Why didn’t she just leave the ambassador in that sea of a crowd and left.

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Magdalyn looked at the man shocked that he would be saying such things to her. She was NO servant girl! How dare he speak to her that way! Before she knew what happened the man had tossed a container of flammable gas towards the explosives which caused her to flinch. Oh no, they were all going to die with this damn shrine. She understood to a point why he was doing this, after all selflessness is what the hero was suppose to have.

Miaka grabbed her arm and Mag's eyes shot over to her. "You don't understand he IS the legend! He's still only human so if he dies in this explosion my entire empire is doomed as is yours!" She could do nothing but watch the impending fight. If this place went up in flames then she was going with it, that would be her fate if the hero died anyway.

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Miaki stared at the foolish woman in disbelief. "Fool." Running to the nearest building, she jumped and caught ahold of the edge of the roof and flipped up ontop of it. Preparing to run for it, Miaki took one last look behind her. "Dang it, why did I not just leave her in the crowd." Pulling out both daggers, Miaki proceeded to carve a circle into the roof below her feet. Mumbling an unknown language, the circle started to glow. "Words for life and blood for strength." jabbing her finger on both daggers, she left behind a spot of blood on each then slammed one dagger into circle on the roof. With the circle glowing red and both daggers vibrating with a redish tint, Miaki threw the second dagger at the amabassadors feet and another circle appeared around the woman. "You lose one man and you're ready to lay down and stop fighting!Maybe it would mean the end for everyone if he's gone, but giving up will erase even the prospect of hope that everyone is placeing on you two! And I'm not letting anyone's blood stain my hands. You cannot leave that circle as long as I am in mine, and nothing can enter yours without first going through me. Human or element." Trying to catch her breath, Miaki wasn't sure how long she could hold this up, but she'd pass out before she released her hold on the spell she cast. That baka just better hurry up and know what he was doing.

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#, as written by Seraph
The unnamed Cerulean dashed backwards, pivoting with deceptive ease to spin around and run towards the statue. Swiping one of the torches from the temple gateway, he ran through the temple itself and out onto the length of rocky spanning. Drawing his sword with unearthly grace, this time, the sword took on a different characteristic. While the cutting edge was unquestionably sharp, this time the blade had crackling currents swarming it in a whirlwind along the length of the blade.

With each swing, the electrical currents passed through the air, arching a small distance away from the blade's unkempt appearance. The very air was cleaved in two;vacuums forged drawing the running man back into the swords serrated 'tooth' like edge. The result was awe inspiring shock waves and energy bursting through the air, deafening those near enough. Icy blue streams of energy, or 'ki', or life force-once conceived as inconceivability--now poured of seemingly every pore in Kado's body the closer that he drew to the statue of Ryujin.

The deep lacerations the man was sustaining from the blows inflicted upon him by Kado's sword "Ryū Ha" had begun to transform without Kado's notice. It had taken on the form of a great fang from what looked like a colossal serpent. The made was deeply, if not wickedly curved but 'heavy' while maintaining a slender streamlined appearance. The notches and nicks that made it look rusty and broken, now began to look like overlapping scales. Holding it airborne ready to deliver a final fatal blow, the swords blade exhibited strange glyphs, emitting a cyan hue with a far reaching range.

The sword still held high, zephyrs and gust began to collect around his position. Looking down upon upon the man, his eyes glowing a bright electric blue with surges of electrical current flowing forth. The clouds above the city itself began to blend together; the myriad of color creating a dull gray and then finally, a black like the sky had been bruised. Lightening fiercely struck out around the people of Jade. Arches of dynamic power that stirred and bewildered the senses of what the wrath of a God could and actually might be. The dragon was the God of Balance. When one got to out of hand, it levied and weighted the side down as judge passing a sentence on the accused. The gyrating clouds began to form a maelstrom, spiraling down creating pandemonium with the cataclysmic event.

Whirlwinds; tornadoes, touching down out at sea like battleships threatening to encroach if something dared threaten the statue of Ryujin. A massive revolving cyclone enveloped the shrine at the far end. Encapsulating the shrine itself. In a last ditch effort, bleeding from an extensive wound gained by Kado's sword, chucked the torched towards the basket. The flammable caskets combusted with an earth shattering eruption. The jade statue shattered into fragments of glass like projectiles while the lone column that he and the man stood on collapsed beneath their very feet. Turning and running back, the bridge was fast crumpling behind Kado as he hurried to the temple.

Suddenly, the bridge gave way ahead of Kado, leaving him no time to really leap. Kado would seemingly plummet to his death one hundred feet below on the craggy rocks at the shoreline...

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Magdalyn looked on in shock as she was trapped by some sort of bubble. "How dare you!" Soon, she was grateful for the protection as cataclysmic events unfolded around her. Storms of great magnitudes erupted and she watched in horror, unable to move from her spot. She watched her hero, the only hope left for her empire, fight throughout the storms and then...fall from sight. "NO!" She yelled, mouth agape as she stood uselessly.

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Miaki gasped for breath as the furious winds hit the shields. What was going on!?! Tightning her grip on the dagger, she put more effort into to protecting herself and the ambassador. "What in the world is this!" She yelled, probably to just have her voice lost in the catastrophy outside the circles. Eyes blurring, Miaki tried to watch as the man known as the hero was running...then dissappeared. Hearing the ambassador, Miaki shook her head slowly. Maybe she didn't place all her hope in this legend, but others did. Feeling a weakness in the shields, Miaki focused again on only the circles; things weren't over with yet.

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#, as written by Seraph
The world around Kado, left so..chaotic. Rock gave away to the explosive force of the caskets unleashing copious amounts of fire-powder in a dazzling array of fire and billowing smoke. Plumes, more like columns lifted, balling into what could easily be mistaken as fists--defying the saurian king. The statue tumbled haphazardly into the sea; pieces breaking off and raining down all around Kado, around the two he had unwittingly left behind.

The temple was then struck by sizable boulders, as though a meteor shower were falling right atop them. The explosions rang into Kado's ears, deafening him for the moment and dulling his senses. The man was a martyr. A symbolic act of vengeance bot between the gods and between the kingdoms. But this only settled it, searing a wounded mentality closed once and for all with resolve of granite.

As he fell towards the waters and the rocky shoreline below, his sword still in his hand--he struck out. Embedding the blade deep within the rocky surface of what was now entirely an island of it own. The top had been blasted off and with it, his Idol, but the entire column hadn't been destroyed. This was what Cerulean had hoped--to vanquish the hopes of legend, to silence both kingdoms and bring them under heel. The blade caught, and carved a swath through the rock.

At first it didn't seem he would stop, but he wedged it further and was jerked to a halt. Using the downward momentum, he swung up and around, relieving the blade momentarily before re-entering it into the surface of the rock just a bit higher up this time.

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#, as written by Seraph
dawn-treader-t50119.html

In lieu of the changes, I decided a reboot would be appropriate considering the substantial racial changes. ^^;

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