@Device(PostScript)
@Make(Report)
@Style(Spacing 1.5, Leftmargin 0.75 inch, Rightmargin 0.75 inch,
       SingleSided, Font = TimesRoman, Size 10)

@comment(Set these values appropriately for each character profile)

@string(name="Arpachshad Seth me-Chaim")
@string(realname="Arpachshad Seth me-Chaim")
@string(playername="Player Name")
@string(id="457465")

@include (/mit/abstract/Characters/Sheets/cover.mss)



@MajorHeading(@value(realname))

Those empty-headed sons of a rabid hippogriff...they have some gall,
trying to kick you off the Table.  You'll go, when you're good and
ready to go, you told 'em ... and if they think you're gonna let 'em
trick you out and replace you with your no-good son Chaim they've got
another think coming ... not that he hasn't done a good job as an
ambassador, but he'd better have been, being your son ... you're gonna
have your say on the Table, just like in the old days ...  and no
uppity court hanger-on like that Koraha Ophir is going to put a gag on
you ... "decided you needed a bodyguard", indeed -- hired to be a
nursemaid, more like it ... these youngsters just haven't been around
long enough ... um, what were you talking about?

Oh, yes, that's right ... back in the old days, you and your cat
Florence...they all thought you were crazy back then, too, bringing
your cat into meetings with you, but Florence was better company than
all of them put together, she was ... and they think you're crazy now,
too, except they call it "senile" ... HA!  You know better, of course
you do.  Your family has always aged gracefully, like old Grampa Seth
-- you were named after him, an old tradition in your family, caused
all sorts of problems when you were little ... you can still remember
the day Grandma Sara was looking for you and yelled out "SETH!  Get in
here this INSTANT!" and Grampa came bursting out of the bathroom
wearing nothing but a towel, looking like the hounds of Purgatory were
on his heels...you laughed so hard you nearly fell from the rafters
where you'd been hiding.  You always loved those rafters, they were
full of all kinds of junk you loved to play with ... and you could
pretend you were a famous thief, breaking into a palace ringed by
guards armed to the teeth, but you'd slip by them and swing into the
princess' chambers and rescue her from the evil king ...

By all the gods, this playacting is infuriating.

When a man has attempted to kill you, he has in his own fashion
defined the relationship between you.  For good or ill, he has made it
clear where he stands.  The next move, then, is entirely up to you.

In your life you have survived numerous attempts to end it, and you
have come to the realization that the most successful way to keep a
clever assassin at bay is to allow him to believe he has already
succeeded.  You are now the target of an extremely clever assassin,
and it will take all of your cunning and wit to let him outsmart
himself.  In this case, you know several things about the man (or
woman) who has tried to kill you.

First of all, he is someone you know.  Someone, in fact, who is close
enough to you to have poisoned you several times without your
noticing...not an easy task for one of your training.

Secondly, he is not flashy and has no wish to call attention to
himself.  After all, he could easily have attempted a straight
poisoning rather than the complicated series of nerve-toxin doses he's
been using...obviously, he doesn't want the complications that would
arise from your assassination.  The goal is a death due to "natural
causes."  

A likely conclusion based on those two observations is that you are
dealing with an experienced professional.  The toxin he's been
supplying you with is designed to produce continuous deterioration of
the mind and nervous system, creating a state that greatly resembles
advanced senility at first and then eventually leads to a fatal
stroke.  These are the symptoms you've been imitating ever since you
noticed the toxin, and thus far you've managed to avoid getting
another dose--you think.  But the game you're playing is dangerous; if
your assassin discovers the truth before you discover his identity he
will probably throw caution to the winds and make an obvious
assassination--one that, from an unknown direction, is likely to be
successful.

On the other hand, you do have some surprises on your side.  Something
your opponent clearly does not know is that you've had the training of
an Artmaster.  Not that there's any reason he should know; nobody's
ever heard of the Artmasters besides those who have been chosen to
join them.   

It is the role of the Artmaster to act as guardian of the M'kraan
crystal, the one artifact with the power to bind the gods, lest it
fall into the hands of the alligned and disrupt the balance of the
Universe.  This has happened only once before in history, the Early
Chaos, in the long-ago days when Mishael was still Lord of the World,
when the power of the M'kraan crystal was tapped by warring races and
nearly destroyed the World, perhaps the Universe itself.  It was
stopped only by the Lord Mishael's great sacrifice, and in his wake he
left two legacies: the freedom of man to choose his own path, alone of
all the beings of the Universe, and the tradition of the Artmaster, he
who walks in shadow, the in-betweener.  It was the duty of the
Artmaster to keep the crystal, passing it on to his successor, lest it
ever again fall into the hands of the alligned.

'odha chose you to be his successor, nearly four decades ago, for
reasons that shall remain forever his own.  For your part, you felt
more at ease in the world of politics and people than Compacts and
Gods, and when the Eastern lands were discovered and the early border
wars began, you you felt you could do more good helping to lead the
Realm than fighting for some vague metaphysical balance between the
Gods.

Thirty-five years ago, when you left the Master and joined Rashid's
Cabinet of Advisors, you had no intention of returning.  You had
chosen your path, and your ears were deaf to 'odha's talk of your
destiny.  He let you go.  A year later, you felt the fabric of the
Universe itself undergo a change, and you knew that something had gone
wrong.  You returned to the Artmaster's home, to find him lying dead,
poisoned, and the Crystal missing.  You knew then that what you had
sensed was the latest battle between God and man, and between the
Gods.  The power of the Crystal had been invoked to bind the Goddess
Tualoha.

In looking through 'odha's study, hoping to find some clue, you found
more than you bargained for.  In an arcane scroll, you read of the
Dark Master.  Like the Artmaster, the Dark Master came to be in
response to the Early Chaos, and was passed down through the
generations.  But where the Artmasters were content to allow the Gods
their way, keeping the Crystal ready for the eventuality that the
Compact might need to be invoked, the Dark Masters sought the Crystal
for power.  They were a force that would not rest until the gods were
finally, irrevocably shackled where they could no longer influence the
destiny of man.  They also failed to see the fallacy of their
argument, failed to realize that to raise a hand against a God is to
be an agent of its Opposite, and thus destroy the balance between
them.   The way of the Darkmaster would bring but another time of
chaos.  

The Artmaster's trust, then, was to defend the Crystal -- a trust your
mentor had failed, although the true fault was yours.  For without an
apprentice, an Artmaster soon loses his connection to the World and is
seduced by the tranquility of the three-colored stone, and his power
to defend it is weakened.  This happened to 'odha, thirty years ago,
when you left to find your destiny in the political world; thus, he
was easily defeated and destroyed by the Dark Master, who gained
control of the Crystal and raised hands against the Goddess.  At
least, you assume that it was that ancient enemy who was responsible.

For fifteen years, you sought the Crystal and the Amulet that would
summon it, to no avail.  When the House of the Sceptre attempted its
takeover and failed, you became a Peer, and your quest was
interrupted.  Clearly, you rationalized, the World went on without
you.  And in any case, it was too late.  Tualoha's realm had been
strongly connected to the World since the beginning of the Holy Wars,
and unless Tualoha's unbalanced link to the World could be removed,
unbinding her would create a time of madness, an insane era of
unbridled creation that would make mankind an untenable life form.
Yes, you told yourself, you had failed, but what was there to do about
it?

In the political arena, at least, you proved effective.  You were a
strong mediating influence during the Chaos Years, and a major force
in helping the newly-formed Table get on its feet and moving in the
middle of the Sceptre Uprising.  You've been a powerful voice among
the Peers ever since.  Lately, you seem to be one of the few who
realize the insanity of placing control of magical affairs in the
hands of mundane businessmen.  You're no mage, but you have respect
for them, and they've managed their own affairs quite well since the
Chaos Years.  Why antagonize them for no reason?  And why antagonize
legitimate businessman by makiing a part of thier trade illegal?  The
Alchemist's Guild was in no way responsible for people's abuse of the
products they produced, and should not have a lucrative part of their
trade cut off by that ludicrous drug prohibition bill.

This has become a general philosophy of yours, that the government
that governs least governs best.  You had been opposing the drug
prohibition and magic licensing bills, and pushing for deregulation of
trade and emmigration, until the attempt on your life forced you to
alter your lobbying style.  Perhaps it was your influence over the
Table that led to your attempted assassination, but another
possibility echoes in your mind.  Perhaps, your conscience whispers to
you, it is your ancient guilt returned to haunt you.

For while you laid down your arms and your quest, your enemies, it
seems, continued their battle.  And now?  Perhaps it is coincidence
that the poison used on you, the small silvery flakes you discovered
in your morning coffee, was the same rare, almost unheard-of herb that
killed your mentor.  Perhaps.  But such coincidences are rare.

You must assume, then, that the Dark Master is still active--and
perhaps that he knows who you are.  Two days ago, when the teleport
platforms on the Castle stopped working, you sensed once again that
the balance of forces within the Universe was being meddled with.
This, you are beginning to dread, may well be a sign that the Goddess
has broken free of her bonds and that the madtime is soon to begin.
This must not be allowed, must be undone.

You have in your favor your skills and training, and your knowledge of
the M'kraan crystal.  You know its name, which is needed to use its
power; you know its power, to shackle the gods; you know its
appearance, which depends on its location.  It reflects the
predominant divine attribute, white, black or green, but otherwise it
is a massive smooth and shapeless stone.  And in the hands of a
Master, it achieves total clarity.

If it is here, you shall find it.  You shall gather up again the
broken shards of your destiny, and reforge them; in so doing you shall
atone the errors of your impetuous youth.  You shall find your ancient
enemy, who seeks now to destroy you, and all shall begin again.  This
you have sworn, to the spirit of your deceased mentor, and this oath
you shall not forswear.

@newpage

@Heading(Items and Abilities)

You have the following abilities:

@begin(itemize)

@b(Awareness):  You may not be surprised.

@b(Specific Mindblock): You may not be forced to reveal your status as
an Artmaster, nor may that information be obtained from you without
your will.  This does NOT grant the ability to lie about it.

@b(Martial Arts 4): You may add 4 to your effective Martial Attack when
attacking bare-handed.

@b(Martial Arts Teacher):  You may teach Martial Arts skill to anyone who
does not already have it.  Contact a GM to use.

@b(Identify Toxin) You can establish whether or not a sample of food
or drink is poisoned, and with what.  @i(GM's NOTE: To use this
ability, take a) @b(small) @i(sip or bite from the item to be tested.
If it tastes "poisoned", you know it and are unaffected.)

@end(itemize)

You begin the game with the following items:

@begin(itemize)

A empty five-gallon plastic jug.

Several spoons

Six shuriken

A poisoned drumstick

A vial of poisoned vichysoisse

One dose of khallash

@end(itemize)

@newpage

@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.creation.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.m'kraan.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Guides/guide.realm.mss)
@include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/peers.realm.mss)