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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.

1,047 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 sighed as she watched the Jade Empire approaching from the view she had out the carriage window. This was absolutely insane, counting on a legend to save their own empire? She at first refused this mission but it was truly their last hope. Their armies were in disarray, the entire Azure empire was that way. How could they have not left an heir, no they did but..where?!

The hault of the carriage brought her thoughts to the present. This is where her father told her to travel to search for this fabeled hero. You'll know him because of his selfless nature. Well that wasn't very clear at all, she was certain there would be multiple people here that had that quality! He had also said that she would just know..please just know. She never went by feelings or hopes, everything should be planned and known. Now was the time to think in a different light though, this just had to work. Taking a deep breath, she exited the carriage and smoothed her clothes looking about at the brand new scenery. Now, where to start...

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#, as written by Seraph
Sweat oozed from Kado's thick, dark brow. Before him, an imaginary opponent of unspeakable power! At his side, his wooden bokken. Only step was allowed to draw his sword. One, and only one. Kado drew in a deep breath, left hand on the rounded hand guard of his curved length of wood that made up his also imagined sword. He took a step forwards and drew the beveled practice sword.

"Hey! Kado!"

Kado's attention was drawn immediately to his right, the sword slipping from his hands. Sailing through the air, it tumbled carelessly and indiscriminately hit its target. Landing upon Kado's head, his eye widened, tears welling in the corners as he was swiftly brought to the ground--his sword rolling away from him. The voice that had called out to him was familiar, and as he pushed himself into a knelt position a foot collided sharply with his shoulder Immediately he knew who it was. Akira.

"You look good knelt down like that before me. Yeah, I'm sure you're petty grandfather would be so honored by my appearance that he would forget the shame of his grandson playing with toys and the such. But since your down there I have news. There is an ambassador from Azureland, she's come looking for the legend, me, to whisk her away and help her kingdom. Will probably want me in the process." Akira spoke, his words like whip lashes, worse perhaps.

Kado never lifted his eyes from the ground. His father was shamed and outcast because of him. His grandfather on the other hand, was a war hero. He had fought and outlasted numerous battles with Cerulean Spartans. Kado, however, was virtually nothing more than a trainee. Akira was senior student in the class and it was more than likely him who was going to get chosen to go.

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It wasn't long before Magdalyn was approached by a few men who apparently knew who she was and why she was here. It was convenient to say the least and even more so that they were going to take her to some training area to find the legend. This might be easier than she thought, that was assuming the hero was in this class of students.

Following the men her eyes traveled about, taking in the alien sights. The people here were dressed so oddly, they even looked different in their faces. Then again they probably thought the same about her, she could feel all eyes on her. She had to remember she was a stranger in their land, she was the foreigner not them.

Magdalyn held herself proudly, with a straight back and an elegant stride as they reached this area where the hero was supposedly to be. "Very well, bring out your students whenever you're ready." Her calm exterior would never betray how frantic she was internally. He just had to be here.

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#, as written by Seraph
Akira arched his leg back and then readjusted and sent it forwards crashing into Kado's shoulder. Kado was sent sailing backwards along the ground from the forceful thrust of Akira's simple kick. He watched as Akira, whom had long, slender strands that were tied in a high risen ponytail that hung down low step away and towards their training fields.

"Stupid Akira!" Kobayashi growled, lifting himself up. He patted down his hakama, the pleated skirt-like pants of his training uniform. His kimono beneath was slightly scuffed with dirt as well but he didn't have time to care for that. There would undoubtedly be a tournament for the chosen one. There always was.

Kado chuckled, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. He could get there faster than Akira. Climbing on the tops of several crate he clambered onto the roof albeit, noisily. Then, taking a running head start, he began leaping from building to building. He had seen the Shadow Corp do it many times. They would come and go, seemingly disappearing into thin air whenever he would attempt to follow.

Racing amongst the roof tops was a good exercise as well. It turned his legs into jelly in no time at all on any typical day.. But then again, today wasn't one of those days. Spotting a strangely dressed woman, his attention was once again diverted from what it was supposed to be doing, to something else that it wasn't. Mis-stepping, he would send himself into a cascade down through several boxes--landing in front of the woman. Groaning he would simply lie there for several moments.

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A small grin formed on Magdalyn's lips as she watched a few of the men appear. They certainly looked to be hero material, surely the legend was here. Her hope was restored at the sight of the strong students, both empires would be saved. The thought of a legend being the cause for their salvation still seemed ludicrous but if it was true then the answer was here.

Taking a small step forwards at the call of one of the men who had brought her here she suddenly screamed as a man fell from the sky. "OH DEAR LORD!" She shouted, clapping her hand over her mouth in terror. Then looking around, her shocked features still frozen she watched as the others looked over at the scene. Realizing how improper she must look, she quickly straightened herself out and looked down at the sky man. It seemed no one was making a move to help him, just snickering or shaking their heads profusely apologizing on his behalf. "No, no it's fine. I'm certain he wasn't planning on falling." Looking down at the man she walked closer to him, giving him a nudge with her foot. "Excuse me? Um, sky man? Are you alright?" He was groaning, so obviously still alive but her mothering tendencies were taking over. She couldn't fuss over him in front of the crowd though, so merely asking if he was alright would have to do.

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#, as written by Seraph
"Ohhhh...geeze. That's for taking your eyes off the prize Kobayashi..." Kado muttered, dirt and silt about his shifted and blew away with each word.

His right hand slid back along the dirt path, lifting and slapping the ground upon re connecting with it to aide in helping himself up. He winced, groaning slightly more as he anchored himself more properly. Sitting on his knees, hunched over he groaned further.

"I think I pulled a muscle or something, I'm dying...just leave me here." He wavered the residents of the grand city on, not knowing where he he had exactly landed.

Feeling a nudge from a foot, he growled before collecting his hands into balled fists he lifted his head swiftly. "For the last time, I am not a foot stool!!!" Kado the opened his eyes to the strangely dressed woman, and blinked. Looking over to the side, his eyes moved as if pondering if he had indeed, landed in front of her or rather, they had come to him. "No, no...that's right."

Kado then stood up, dusting himself off once again. Clasping his hands in a polite manner he then adjusted himself and smiled while leaning forwards. "Excuse me, I have a foot to insert into my mouth--I hereby pardon myself and wish you well." With that, he turned around and ran away towards his school.

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Magdalyn furrowed her brow as the sky man mumbled to himself. "Excuse me?" She nudged him once more and he whipped around yelling at her that he wasn't a foot stool which caused her to recoil a bit at the level of his voice. Was he some sort of local crazy? Shying away from the man, she watched as he excused himself and..literally..ran away. Standing there confused beyond belief, she watched his form grow smaller. "Who in the world was that?" She asked to no one in particular. Sighing, she shook her head calming herself once more. Now was no time to worry with insane fools. "No matter, let's continue shall we?" The sooner this competition started the better.

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#, as written by Seraph
Kado fled the scene, which by all accounts made him look all the more insane. Mentally he was barraging himself with mental blows, gripping his though processor and thrashing it and yelling "WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!? ARE YOU CRAZY?!". But, on the out side he appeared very somber, very despondent.

Skidding to a halt as he turned the corner, his school right before him. His master, a rather small frail appearing man--was oddly enough a very capable Samurai and could even take down Akira with one blow--sat on the school steps awaiting him. Slowly approaching, but while doing so, swallowed hard. There he was getting free lessons as a vagabond and he had to go an yell at an ambassador. He once again began to hit himself mentally.

"Kado. We will be having a tournament, and while I invite you to participate despite the ruckus I just heard--I will hope that you win against Akira." His sensei said, in a very refined and relaxed manner. No sense of negativity or anger in his voice.

"Mast I, I do not understand. I can not beat Akira, he is the top student in our class even you must see that is an inevitable fight." Kado responded disappointingly.

Genryu then handed Kado a cup, a rather small dish. "Hold this."

Out stretching his hands Genryu nonetheless let it slip between his fingers and shatter on the ground. "Do you know why you could not reach it in time?" Genryu asked and Kado shook his head.

"You could not reach it in time, because you did not use your full potential. That is why you are a failure. Those who do not know the way but are willing to learn it, are always masters. Those that do know the way, but ignore its simple rules are destined to fail." Genryu hand him a cup placing it, himself, in Kados hands and then began to pour tea until it was over flowing.

"Master the cup is full!" Genryu continued pouring any way. "Yes, do you know what that cup represents? It represents Akira's mind. It is so full that there is no room for MY teachings, so he is merely wasting his time. You, you are like a river. Not fully full but never empty. You flow and ebb like water. You shear rock and move the earth. Water is capable of taking any form; pour it in a cup it takes the shape of a cup. Pour it in a river it takes the form of one." Genryu took the cup and sat it on his tray and then stood.

"I have no doubt that Akira is a brave swordsman. But being a brave swordsman, and a good one, are two separate entities."

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Magdalyn was thrown a bit off balance by the sudden local crazy landing in front of her. It didn't take long for her to regain her composure and follow the men the rest of the way to the the school. Following them inside to the large training room where the contest would take place she watched as they sat on their knees on the floor. Did they not have any chairs here? Looking around to confirm that, she began trying to awkwardly get to her knees in her dress. She was NOT dressed for this! With a small thump she finally made it to the ground and flashed a slightly embarassed smile to those present. Ok, that was done with now all there was to do was wait for this apparent contest to begin.

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Strange and foreign drums began to beat a resounding rhythm as each student of Ittou Musashi Ryu flowed out in single file lines. Each student lined up according to their rank; top tier fighters were closer to the crowd, with the second and third tiers in equal measure away from each other behind the first. Akira Katsumoto, the top student, stepped out before them all at the point.

"Milady Magdalyn, welcome to the Jade Empire, to the school of Ittou Musashi Ryu. We all hope to obtain your respect, and wish to aide the Azure kingdom and are eager to combat the Ceruleans." Akira bent at the waist perfectly, but ever took his eyes off her.

Kado watched from the back, standing in tier three in the first spot. The students then broke apart, taking their seats on either side of the raised platform that they stood on. The rice thresh tatami mats were drawn away and left behind only a smoothly polished floor beneath. They all knelt, even Akira as Genryu stood from the far back and stepped forwards.

"All contestants will fight those in their own rank, then, in the second round the third tier will fight the second and the third round the second or third tier champion will fight the first tier champion. As are the rules, if you are knocked out you will be disqualified, or if knocked out the arena. Also, if you are too injured to continue you will be disqualified. Let the contest begin!"

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The students filed in and her eyes scanned over them quickly. Many appeared to be very worthy of the title hero, they looked to be one. A student stepped forward and greeted her with a bow, his eyes staying on her continuously. She gave him a small nod but in honesty he made her uneasy. Thankfully he left to sit as their master came explaining the rules of the competition. After he stepped off the stage, Magdalyn adjusted herself to watch the fights.

It was magnificient watching these fine fighters go at each other with everything they had. Her heart lifted everytime this Akira won, despite the earlier uncomfort. He had to be the legend, he was so skilled but..it just didn't feel right. When the local crazy appeared on the fighting arena, her eyes widened. HE was a student?! Well, this would at least prove entertaining to watch him she supposed.

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Akira stepped forth like an unstoppable Juggernaut. His face held disdain for Kado's recent and surprising victories. How could he have gotten so strong with out his noticing it? His shapely, finely crafted wooden sword as held down at his side already drawn. The tip angled towards the polished floorboards. His finely crafted arms flexed slightly as if anxious to destroy Kado.

Kado stepped up to the central part the arena, his heart thudding indefinitely hard against his rib cage as he took in the understanding that he would fight Akira for the first time. Drawing in deep swaths of air, he stepped up to his competitor and class mate and extended his hand to show his respect would be given either way.

Akira grinned, and took the hand. His fingers locked onto Kado's hand as he then drew his sword up at an angle. The wooden weapon collided with Kado's ribs with a resounding impact, hunching Kado's body forwards. Letting go of the hand, Akira immediately brought the weapon around, and up using the beveled edge of the weapon as he brought it down against Kados shoulder brutally, flattening the eager competitor. Kado lie on the ground in searing pain, breathing heavily as he watched Akira turn and walk away.

Kado writhed on the ground, but the passion burning in him to, just for once, be better made him unlock his hidden abilities. The blow had dislocated his right arm, but upon its now revealed shoulder, was "claw" marks in a manner that suggested it was emblazoned upon his skin. Genryu stood up immediately as if to call the match but stopped when he saw the markings more clearly. Kado drew his knees inwards, sitting upon them while his hand pressed solidly the the wooden surface of the arena.

Akira turned and noticed the disciple rising slowly. Turning swiftly, he moved with a cat's grace hastily across the arena. Raising his sword he went to strike to finish the match once and for all. Gripping his own wooden sword, Kado swept low and horizontally catching Akira's ankle. The bones were heard snapping and Akira's body along with his body, were swept aside as he fell to his left. Rising up quickly, the hands of a stranger, no longer Kado but the energy of a great behemoth gripped the face of Akira; arching its arm back as it snatched him up and slammed his head through the wooden floor boards.

Silence befell the school as both the instructors, students and accompanying guards stood in awe. Kado stood staring down at the hole heaving in breaths while his hand furled tightly causing his knuckles to protrude and his hand to bleed from his nails piercing his skin. A strange aura had taken shape over him, and everyone around him felt it like they would feel the typhoons and hurricanes and kamikazes.

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Magdalyn raised a brow as this Akira took advantage of the hand Baka had given him. That certainly was not behavior that the legend would have, at least in her mind it wasn't. Perhaps the unsurity she had about him was well placed. Her attention waned, thinking the fight was now over but her eyes snapped back when Baka rose. Was he still going to fight after a hit like that? Well, she had to admit she was impressed but goodness the poor thing looked hurt. Her concern was soon transferred to Akira as she heard bones snap from the vicious attack by his opponent. This seeming town crazy then proceeded to slam his head into the floor. Had he killed him? Oddly enough that question was the last thing on her mind. She had found him...the legend she knew this was him. Her hand was clapped over her mouth, her eyes wide as she watched this powerhouse of a human before her. The feeling overwhelmed her and she knew. "Him...That's him." She said quietly, unmoving as she watched the living legend before her.

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#, as written by Seraph
Genryu held his arm up to shield himself from what felt like gravity where crushing him downwards. "Kado, its over!" He shouted, though the swirling vortex of energy that lashed out at all those around him in the form of high speed winds that howled.

"Servant! My name is Ryūjin! I have incarnated this vessel to prevent the pride of the Cerulean empire to rise above where I have shunned it to. This one, however, this one known as "Akira" has dishonored my presence. I demand ret-" The voice broke, the stalwart character faltered, before its knees bent forcibly. His uninjured arm lifted and gripped his head with his hand while his eyes clenched shut tightly. The winds died down, the circular current of winds dissipated-the aura vanishing.

Left behind was the same young man that fell of a roof and hit himself with his own sword, but he was the champion nonetheless.

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Magadlyn was breathless as she could practically feel his power coursing through the room. His master told him the match was over but the voice the man spoke back to him in was not his own. He identified himself as their God Ryujin, at least that's who she thought that name belonged too. It was intimidating to say the least as she continued to watch wide eyed. There was absolutely no question, this was their hero. The man fell to his knees and the oppressive feeling of the great power was gone. Finally, she was able to breathe, it was over and she had found the legend. Her hopes were lifted at witnessing that great show of strength, he could do this. Standing, she watched the man wearily, although she was hopeful once again the feeling in the room was still suffocating and she had to leave. "That's him, I want him brought to my carriage at the gates by nightfall. We leave immediately." With that she quickly left taking in a deep breath of the clear outside air.

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#, as written by Seraph
Genryu stepped quietly towards Kado, watching as the young ambassador hurriedly left the courtyard. He gripped the dislocated arm of the boy and with a quick twist and then shove, he reconnecting the arm back into socket. Kado screamed as his arm bent and then was followed by a quick 'thrust'. Being helped up by his sensei who then looked over his shoulder sternly at Akira who was alive but badly beaten, and ushered the others to pull him out and take him home.

Helping Kado to a sitting position in his office, he sat on the other end of a rather small table. Taking out two small bowls and a slightly larger bottle. He poured into either cup,an almost amber liquid.

"I must congratulate you, Kado. You beat Akira, finally." Genryu said with a smile.

"Yeah...I guess." Kado responded with latent despondency.

"What is the matter my child? Isn't that what you had hoped for? To be the one chosen?" Genryu tilted his head, but the answer was already known to him.

"I just feel...like it wasn't me that beat him...it was someone else, someone alot more powerful. I could see what was happening, but I felt...displaced?" He looked up at Genryu for answers.

Genryu simply smiled, took the glass along with Kado and swallowed the sake. Setting the dish down, he responded.

"I am no longer your master Kado, from hence forth, you must find your own answers. I will say this. What you have been blessed with, is true benevolence. I believe that's why you're so...awkward as you would so often like to say. Treasure the gifts you are given, for they will help you on your journey. That is all. You had better hurry along, I think you scared our young guest with your display of finesse." Genryu stood, and helped a first time drinker Kado to his feet.

Genryu then handed him a sword, a dragon design imprinted along the sides and tarnished mountings. The blade inside was notched and rickety--the hilt worn. Kado recognized it, it was his grandfather's. Drawing the sword he saw how the blade was, in poor condition. His eyes fawned over the relic in wonder and secret admiration. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but the weapon seemed..."Different". Still, being human he had to ask.

"How will this help me? Its blade looks dull?"

"Appearances can be deceiving; a single rain drop may not be so threatening--but many, will turn mere water into a torrent and a river into an ocean." Genryu replied. Kado then sheathed the sword.


Kado then bowed in respect, turned and ran from the school. Skidding sideways out into the street, he raced for the gates.

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Magdalyn had made her way back to the gates and stood near her carriage as she waited for the nameless legend. How could that clumsy, crazy young man be the legend? Of course she didn't doubt that he was with a show like that. Pah you'll know him by his selflessnes and your own instinct. Please if only it was so difficult, she was instead shown a terrifying display of power. Pacing back and forth in her red dress, she looked around a bit impatiently. Despite being a bit fearful of the man after what she saw, her sense of duty and..nitpicky nature..caused her to grow irritated at his tardiness. Where was he?! Heaving a sigh she crossed her arms, her eyes scanning the area for him once more.

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#, as written by Seraph
While en route to the gates, Hoshi, a young shrine maiden came running towards him. Her face full of fear, tears running down her once pale cheeks. Her ornate make up ruined. Her hair messily arranged as if disturbed from its traditional tie-up, an indeed, appeared as if someone had grabbed her hair and tried to pull her back. Obviously, she got away.

Skidding to a halt, Kado looked at her in a confused manner. "Hoshi, what's happened to you?" He would question as she slowed near him taking deep labored breaths.

"Its the Meigoki shrine! They are trying to burn it to the ground!" She shouted, sobbing and holding her face.

"Who? Who is trying to burn the temple down?!" Kado responded, his voice excited and worried.

"Woku. Pirates from the south, they bear the Cerulean flag! You must help! You must!" She pleaded.

Kado looked towards the gates, they were only, at best, three blocks down. He could even see the woman pacing in irritation at his late arrival. The sun was floundering, drowning in the depths of the Kidoushu Mountains. The dark was slowly overtaking the day; deep amethyst clouds outlined in pink and red and yellow. There was a choice to be made. Would he be late to the ambassador and be included in what essentially could be a lasting fight? Or would he rush to the ambassador and leave his friends at the mercy of the marauders?

"I'm sorry.." Kado said, almost like a whisper to the wind. " But I must do this, I can't let Hoshi or anyone else be hurt by these..vagrants."

"Hoshi, go home, now! I will take care of these beasts that dare defile our temple!" Kado said, leaving Hoshi behind him. Little did he know that it wasn't Hoshi--but an infiltrator of the Cerulean. She smiled, peeling the illusion of magic away from her face.

Rushing down the street, he zig-zagged through an alley way, avoiding disposables of any kind and finally leaping on top of the fence in a crouching position. One hand on his tucked sword along his waist and another on the top beveled edge of the fence. He seemed to be more acrobatic than he last remembered. Leaping off, he ran straight ahead to a blazing fire. Grand gates stood before him, and beyond them the cliff edge and an out cropping of rock that held the idol of Ryujin.

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On her last scan of the area she caught sight of the man, good they could leave soon then. Suddenly a young woman ran up to him seeming in distress. Magdalyn's features pulled into worry as he then rushed off, where was he going?! Was something going on? Well whatever it was they still had a schedule to keep! "Hey! Wait! We need to-" She stopped mid sentence realizing her calls were going unheard. Well, she certainly wasn't going to be kept waiting for all hours and began walking in the direction he took off in.

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Leaping over the nearly six foot palisade wall that connected to the gates that seemed unmovable for one person. The decorative features that adorned even the walls themselves showed the wealth and prosperity of the Jade Empire. Golden dragons meeting, their claws acting like locks that joined the doors together.

From the vantage point he had, Kado took in all the sights. They were definitely pirates, Wokou. Raiders from the seas. They had guts to attack the Jade Empire which implied that they most certainly were funded by the Cerulean. In all, there were fifteen men. Mostly Wokou, but a few others were Arcadians; not real professional soldiers but they had weapons nonetheless.

Dropping down in the courtyard, he landed kneeling but slowly rose to his feet. Immediately, from catching their attention on landing they began to encircle Kado, forming a large semi-circle. Standing straight, he looked all around himself and saw the glint of swords all around himself. For some reason, Kado didn't feel nervous, but re-molded, remade with confidence.

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Considering her slow pace it wasn't long before the man was out of her sight. Great! Just great, now what was she going to do?! A hero that falls off of roofs and runs away?! Still though she continued on in her search to find him but began to notice people rushing past her. The panic grew more as just a few people rushing past became crowds and soon she was swept away. She tried to fight her way out of the herds of terrified civilians but her wrist was quickly snatched by someone. Whirling around to confront them she froze, recognizing the features to be that of a Cerulean. No, the city was under attack that's where the man was heading! Pulling back, kicking and hitting the man she fought to free herself. "Let me go! Release me this instant!"

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Miaka sat ontop one of the shop roofs watching the crowd of people run by. Not very bright of them to be rushing towards danger without so much as a weapon. "Fools, might as well see what the commotion is. Maybe even restock on a few 'lost' coin purses while I'm at it." Standing up, Miaka was about to jump to the next roof when she heard a woman yelling. Below her in the crowd was a foreign woman struggling with a man...wait, not just any man, a Cerulean! Jumping off the roof, Miaka landed quietly behind him. "Not very polite are you. I believe she said release her." Catching the man's attention, Miaka ducked low and swirved around him to push infront of the woman. Miaka hooked her right foot behind his and shoved, knocking him off balance; then proceeded to throw her weight forward and slam him into the wall. The Cerulean slumped to the ground unconcious. Turning towards the woman, Miaka was suprised to see she just saved the ambassador everyone has been speaking about. "Shouldn't someone like you have a bodyguard, especially with idiots like that one running around," Miaka nodded her head toward the Cerulean, "Oh, and I'm Miaka. Pleasure to meet you Miss Ambassador."

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Drawing his own sword from the eroded scabbard. Laughter erupted abound as they took a look at the notched, corroded blade. Kado grimaced, but drew in a calming breath. Genryu had told him to believe in his gifts. What did that mean? What gifts? Him being clumsy? Weak? Kado didn't have much tie to comprehend his former master's testament. A large wokou wielding a rather serrated blade was rushing him.

Kado then felt a tremor in the hilt of his sword. The whole blade began to oscillate; practically disjointing from his hands like it were being ripped away. At first, Kado's attention was split between the advancing raider and his own weapon. What the hell was going on?! The more he worried about the advancing man, the more his sword rattled in his hands. Kado began focusing all his attention on the weapon, if he was going to have any sort of chance he needed to have his own weapon under wraps.

Once he began to focus, Kado felt that powerful, tumultuous 'storm' brew inside of him. A dark purple amethyst, indigo aura encased him and he felt a rush of power surge through him. His body lurched forwards suddenly, and as if time slowed; bent his back leg at the knee and sat upon the rising heel of his foot while his forward leg stretched out towards the enemy. His right arm lifted and arched his wrist so that the blade was skyward. Time suddenly sped up. His owtward leg drew his body forwards; blood pumping through the extremity with force as the muscle was suddenly activated from its extended posture.

Sweeping the blade down, the blade bit into the stone of the courtyard, cutting through as though it were shearing simple paper. The blade swept upward, slipping past the approaching man's sword. The blade of Kado's sword cut cleanly through the man's left wrist and traveled upwards catching the cleft of his chin. Not a drop of blood was spilled until Kado's arm 'flicked' backwards spraying the blood of the intruder against the ground while the man's face fell apart in a graphic scene. Kado felt exhilarated, he had never killed someone before. The group around him looked down at the fallen pirate in astonishment.

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Magdalyn's fighting ceased when a woman dropped from out of nowhere and saved her. She stared in disbelief at her as she introduced herself. "Oh, you know me. Thank you very much but this isn't the time or the place for introductions!" Raising her voice a bit so she would be heard against the rising levels of noise, her eyes darted around as people ran into the both of them. They were pushed around and Mag did her best to stick near Miaka. "We need to get out of these crowds!" She wasn't from around here, she had no idea where there was to duck away but she would.

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Miaka stumbled a bit as the crowd became more persistent. Barely catcheing what the woman said, Miaka nodded in agreement and grabbed her hand. Pulling the ambassador along, Miaka led them over to a cart by a shop roof. "There's only one way to get out of this many people fast; you're going to have to trust me and listen." Climbing onto the cart, Miaka hauled the woman up behind her. Then jumping onto the roof, she layed down on her stomach and reached out her hand. "Grab onto my hand and I'll help you up. Put your left foor on the board sticking out by your knee and push up while I pull. We'll go across the roof where ever your needing to go, there won't be a crowd up hear. Ready?"

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