@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="Mahalael Enoch ") @string(realname="Enoch Chiefson") @string(playername="Player Name") @string(id="786327") @include (/mit/abstract/Characters/Sheets/cover.mss) @MajorHeading(@value(realname)) @comment(shimmering gold aura--ophir) In over a century, you have sensed that signal only once, by the power from the ring you always wear. You had hoped never to hear it again, but Fate, it seems, has other plans. It is time for the Godstalker to live again. 145 years ago, the Church of the Elder Gods was established, achieving dominance over the tribes of the time through "divine right." You were then Enoch Chiefson, although the title became meaningless when a Priest of the Black slew your father with a dark and baleful spell. You became Mahalael Enoch, one of the "followers of the Church"-- which meant nothing except that every two weeks, emissaries of the Church would come to you seeking tribute, and with means to extract it. As you grew older, the situation became worse, and finally intolerable. You resolved to stand for it no more. Your friends and neighbors cautioned you, attempted to quiet you, fearful of "divine wrath," but you were beginning to understand the nature of the hoax which had been played upon you all. It was then that Fate chose you to reveal that hoax. To this day, you know not how the ring appeared in your hands. It was a powerful item of magic, however, and you knew that if your local officials were to discover it you would no doubt be imprisoned, questioned, and worse. You kept it secret, and even then you didn't understand. The priests had their spells, and the mages had their spells, but no mage had ever claimed connections to divinity. It was obvious to all, including you, that the priests were not mere mages, but agents of a higher power. Obvious, that is, until you proved otherwise. Obvious, until you discovered that the magical ring you owned had the power to nullify the talents and spells of these so-called "priests." For years, they had claimed their powers to be above those of mere magic, and had used that great lie to rule the peasants through fear. You, with an artifact of "mere magic," and the bow your father had given you, would show them the true meaning of fear. It was then that the Godstalker was born. A misnomer, perhaps, for your war was not against the gods themselves, if indeed they ever existed, nor even against their rightful servants, if such they ever had, but against the charlatans who used their power to terrorize and rule the common folk, all in the name of those gods. Still, at that time and in that place, you were the Godstalker, and that you have remained. It was your power that served to strike the Church down, culminating in your short-lived battle with the Highest Priest, the self-proclaimed emissary of Gaea. He died and was buried with his Goddess' name on his lips and an arrow in his back; whether he was a consumate actor or a fanatical dupe you could never establish. The other so-called High Priests escaped you. For years you sought them, through the power of the ring; for years you stalked and slew them. For years. For decades. Until finally, there survived only the honest mages, and perhaps the true priests as well, for while your power is great, surely it could not be divine, and those few worthies would be untouched by it. As has been true all throughout history, however, the charlatans far outweigh the honest practicioners. When your quest was through, however, you discovered another startling fact--you were still alive and vital, and nearly a hundred years old. You lived through the monarchy of Rashid, whose cause you supported, and of his son, a puerile whelp. You lived through, and fought in, the War of the Crown, and helped oversee the inception of the Table of Peers; you watched with pride as your son (the first of many) was appointed to it. You kept a low profile while learning the ways of the world, and trying (unsuccessfully) to discover the secrets of your life and power. You met many seekers and professors of the divine in that search, and came to see quite clearly that the gods, and their servants, are doing man no favors. You came to realize that man had a destiny, and that the gods were no part of it. Indeed, they were fearful of it. As the Godstalker, you were a needed force in the war for mankind's freedom. Even if your victims really were divine agents, they were nevertheless dupes -- or worse, traitors. It was three decades ago that you sensed another surging of that power which, for want of a better term, you call divine; more powerful than any you had sensed since the Church's times of power. You followed it, but the trace was soon lost to you, blocked somehow...you never felt it again. It was an unusual sensation, black and green and white and none of them and all of them at once, you've never felt its like since. Shortly thereafter came the Darktime, clearly an act of divine magic, whose roots you have never been able to determine. The Darktime's deletirious effects were mostly healed by the establishment of the Wizard's Conclave, which in turn led indirectly to the Sceptre Uprising and your great-grandson's death, and one of life's ultimate ironies. For when he died, the symbol of peership, the Realm tattoo, transfered itself to his closest living relative: you. Had it not been for your extended lifespan, it seems certain your line would have died out of the Table; undoubtedly the intent behind the Sceptre's mass assassination. Instead, the Peership transferred to you, an experienced and capable warrior. Once again you played a crucial role in the outcome of a war; the House was defeated and line Benedicht destroyed. You have been a Peer for a decade and a half, and it will soon be time for you to pass on the title to your descendants. You have one yet, Jeremiah, the son of Jada. You have known many women in your life, but Jada was the first you ever truly loved. Even with the mess you created when you and she first became involved (at the time, you had been seeing a Nisaku girl named Charity--nothing serious, but still a cause of problems), she was completely understanding. The two of you are life-mates, and although your life may last far longer than hers, she shall always remain a part of you. Which is why you were so panicked when, several days before you were supposed to have left for the Castle, Jeremiah vanished. He was, and is, a highly placed mage in the House of the Spear, and it was largely for his sake that you were arguing so volatily against the magic licensing bill that is currently before the Table. If it passed, the Conclave would lose much of its autonimity and probably its cooperation with the Table would end--possibly cataclysmic if the Eastern War contuinues. On the other hand, it would place the Conclave slightly more fully under the Table's jurisdiction, which could prove useful should something like the Sceptre Uprising reoccur. Had it not been for Jeremiah's affiliations with the Conclave, you would have probably stayed neutral. By the same token, you were greatly relieved when, arriving on the Castle, you saw Jeremiah. Somehow you failed to catch up to him, but at least you knew he was on the Castle, and could relax. Fate has a sense of humor. No sooner had that thought crossed your mind than you felt a great wash of white sweeping over everything, and your ring nearly felt like it would burn off your hand. This time, it has not faded...rather, this entire Castle continues to scream of it, with the maddening energies of gods gone wild. You know not what causes it, or how to stop it, but you know you must. Somehow, you feel this may well be the final battle in the war you began over a century ago, perhaps the reason you have been granted what seems eternal life. In the meanwhile, of course, there is another war you must oversee, the one against the Clanlands. Though Iared and Jonah both endorse and encourage victory at any cost, and Seth has unfortunately become incapable of effectively arguing his position (in and of itself a problem--although Seth is one of the most respected of the Peers, it seems that the rest of you will have to force him to retire lest his senility cripple you all), you would very much like to leave Jeremiah a world at peace before you retire the post to him. COERCE, somehow, has managed to convince your fellow Peers to agree to a peace summit with the Clan's Senator Prime and Clasp. And so Fate is calling on you twice, as Peer and as Godstalker, to bring peace to a troubled land. You have lived long to achieve your destiny, so that mankind may achieve its own...you will not fail now. @newpage @section(Abilities and Items) You begin the game with the following items: @begin(itemize) The three-stone ring A set of plate mail A longsword A crossbow 10 arrows A copy of the Articles of the Realm, abridged edition A copy of the proposed Ammendments to the Articles @end(itemize) You have the following abilities: @begin(itemize) Weapon Skill - Sword 3 Armor Use Weapon Skill - Crossbow Fillibuster Experienced Adventurer @end(itemize) @newpage @include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.creation.mss) @include(/mit/abstract/Guides/guide.realm.mss) @section(Organizations) @include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/peers.realm.mss)