Crooked Crane Krum sounds Delzhan to me.<br/>Gender: Male<br/>Caste: Dawn<br/>Nationality: Chiaroscurian (Delzhan/Northerner-God-Blooded)<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Attributes</div><div class="spoiler_body">Martial Artist 4<br/>Language 1 (Riverspeak)<br/>Boundless Endurance 2<br/>Ally 3 (Righteous Furnace)<br/><br/>Physical Primary:<br/>Str 2 (normal)/Dex 5 (reflexes of a fencer)/Sta 4 (Hello, ladies :P!)<br/>Social Secondary: <br/>Cha 1 (unexpressive)/Man 5 (inscrutable)/App 3 (Are you glad to see me, ladies &gt;:)?)<br/>Mental tertiary:<br/>Perception 1 (can be distracted because of self-doubt)/Intelligence 1(not well-read, still learning the finer points of "book thinking")/Wit 5 (You call that thinking on my feet, I call it "what I'm doing"!)<br/></div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Abilities</div><div class="spoiler_body">Caste: Awareness, Brawl/Martial Arts, Dodge, Resistance, War. Supernal: Martial Arts<br/>Favoured: Presence, Performance, Socialize, Integrity, Athletics<br/><br/>Awareness 3<br/>Athletics 4<br/>Brawl 1<br/>Craft 1<br/>Dodge 4 (Unarmoured)<br/>Integrity 4<br/>Investigate 1<br/>Martial Art: Crane Style 5 (Specialty: Unarmored)<br/>Medicine 1<br/>Lore 1<br/>Occult 1<br/>Presence 2<br/>Performance 3 (Seduction)<br/>Resistance 2<br/>Ride 1<br/>Socialize 3 (Hiding His Intentions)<br/><br/>Willpower 8 (6 BP)<br/><br/>Parry: 6 (7 Hook Sword)<br/>Evasion: 6<br/>Resolve: 5<br/>Guile: 5<br/><br/>Intimacies:<br/>Defining:<br/>Principle: Some Things Are Not For Sale<br/>Tie: Senseless Cruelty (Hate)<br/>Tie: Betrayal (Despise)<br/><br/>Major:<br/>Tie: Immaculate Doctrine (General Approval)<br/>Tie: Ally (Friendship)<br/>Tie: Cute Women (Lust)<br/>Tie: Lost Love (Grief)<br/><br/>Minor:<br/>Principle: I am no sorcerer!<br/>Tie: Other Martial Artists (Like)<br/>Note: Martial Artists here means anyone practicing a Martial Arts style, Brawling, Melee, Archery, Thrown Weapons, and even Stealth and combat-style Athletics or Performance!<br/></div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Charms</div><div class="spoiler_body">Empowering Justice Redirection<br/>Fluttering Cry of Warning<br/>Crane Form<br/>Crossed Wings Denial<br/>Feather-Stirred Arrow Deflection<br/>Wings Spread to Sky<br/>Humbling Enlightenment Commentary<br/>Kindly Sifu’s Quill<br/>Mournful Crane’s Cry<br/>Wisdom of the Celestial Crane<br/>Harmonious Presence Meditation<br/>Durability of Oak Meditation<br/>Masterful Performance Exercise<br/>Thousand Courtesan Ways<br/>Sensory Acuity Prana<br/></div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Background</div><div class="spoiler_body">Krum was born to a couple like those you can meet all the time in Chiaroscuro: A Delzhan warrior-poet, he himself with a Northerner mother - and a God-Blooded mother.<br/>Well, maybe the God-Blooded part isn't all that popular.<br/>Either way, he had a happy childhood, learning the Crane style almost to perfection (he overheard once his mother expressely forbidding his father to teach him "cruel moves"). From his mother, he learned not to be afraid of the girls, and that they don't bite; to talk before fighting; and that he hasn't inherited his father's skill in painting.<br/>That was the beginning of the lessons in self-awareness she taught him, but far from the end.<br/>All of this ended when he crossed a nasty cult. A girl he believed to love had joined, claiming it was her duty...somehow...and since this made her unsuitable for a bride, in his father's opinion. The cult agreed with him, forbidding marriage outside of its members.<br/>So Krum opposed the man who had recruited her. After trashing him in public, he thought it was settled.<br/>That is, until he was invited to a dark, gloomy place by the grateful girl. Alas, Krum had a friend read him her missive, and not his mother - letters weren't his forte, he preferred talking to actual people - and the friend didn't think it suspicious.<br/>So the young man hurried right into the ambush, and confronted the dark, undead powers that served the cult.<br/>Instead of submitting, though, as demanded the man he had beaten, he drew his hook swords, summoned the Dragons to give him ferocity - he didn't hope to survive, but hoped to take as many as possible with him. That's when a sun shone upon his brow.<br/>He won that fight. But a glimpse of Solar Anima meant he had to leave Chiaroscuro.<br/>"It was time for you to travel", his father smiled. "Traditions should be withheld".<br/>"You might even find the time to learn to read", his mother added.<br/>And so, Krum left for an unspecified length of time. He wonders, sometimes...what is he now? An Anathema? The god of heretics?<br/>He has only one answer.<br/>"I am Krum. My father is Omurt of the Delzhan, and my mother is Rainah, daughter of Shuhari, the spirit of trees that grow in the desert. I am no sorcerer, nor do I wish to be."<br/><br/>But now, he is looking for answers. Dun-lat seems like a good place to start: there are many other people there that follow the path of the martial arts, and the path of clarity. He might even learn things his father didn't teach him...the old man had only hinted that there are other styles that complement the Crane, but never showed them!<br/>So what if the people ther might consider him a sorcerer, and try to kill him?<br/><br/>On the way, though, he met an interesting figure.  Scorching Heat, an Ifreet. A rival who became a friend and, after discovering they had similar <br/></div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">A Tale Of An Exaltation</div><div class="spoiler_body">"It feels like this happened yesterday. I remember that was a scorching hot day, which is to say, just like any other in the Season of Fire in Chiaroscuro...<br/>I go according to the directions in her note - I had them memorized after a friend read it to me - and then bump into a dead end, reaching the wall of a tannery which <em>has no right to be there.<br/></em><br/>Now, it's not strange to find a tannery between a smith's place and a tavern for the kind of people that can drink despite the stench of the tannery (butchers, sailors, veterans and those in constant state of inebriation, mostly - so sages are still debating whether it's the unwashed drunks that smell worse, or the shit the tanner is using). No, it shouldn't be there because, according to my girl's directions, I should continue. No way I'm mistaken. Yet I'm in an Adurjan-damned dead end!<br/><br/>The laughter behind my back is telling me I might be right both on the dead part and on the end part of it. I turn to see a guy I'd trashed but a few days ago, sitting there and gripping my girl's breast. It doesn't help that I trashed him to warn him to stay away from her, along with his sect...<br/><br/>"Kneel", he hisses. "Kneel and swear allegiance, and I might be merciful! I want to kill you, you know that, but the Mistress would rather have you as a servant of our ancestors."<br/>"What, do you need new muscle? Oh wait. You're no longer considered sufficient, are you?"<br/>His face cringes and I know I've hit the bullseye. Which, in retrospect, might not have been my brightest idea.<br/>"Meet the Mistress, then!", he shouts. He's trying to be menacing. <br/><br/>His master is behind me, crawling the wall down, like a desert centipede crawling down on the sun-warmed stone hills. A dark cloak behind <em>it,</em> holding a sword of dark steel with screaming, damned souls in <em>its</em> hand. <strong><em>It</em></strong> nods. Oh, technically, <em>it</em> had breasts, and most people would have referred to <em>it</em> as <em>her,</em> but the undead? They're <em>things.</em><br/>It's not knowing I'm going to die that hurts my heart the most. No, it was the spear in my girl's hands. She's holding it without flinching, ready to defend the man who is planning to kill me - from my blade.<br/>I have little doubts the note was authentic, now. Probably even with her handwriting, was I one to discern such things. I feel a last tinge of sadness as I take out my multi-sectioned staff, and measure it against the spear in my mind.<br/><em>Not</em> good.<br/>And then sadness is washed away as I know I can't run, nor win.<br/><br/>"Mistress", the man looks at the thing. "He chose to die!"<br/>The thing is fast, real fast. It's next to me, swinging the great blade. I move my handles, parrying the first blow without thinking, not letting it split my wooden weapon. With a reverse cut, it presses me back, allowing no counter, and hisses.<br/>"That's your last opportunity!"<br/>"Go rot in a grave, and take her rotting soul for company", I answer jumping back. "Pasiap, keep me alive until I destroy the abominations! Mela, give me the ferocity of the warrior wind!"<br/>I didn't expect to survive, I was praying to die gloriously and take the <em>thing</em> with me. My family would be proud if I do. Maybe I sudden rush...<br/><br/>That was the moment when a sun shone upon my brow, and its arrows came alive one after the other, like spokes in a wheel. Each one was accompanied by the hissing of snakes, shouts of flying cranes, screeches of monkeys, and other animal sounds. Was that roar a dragon, or a lion, though?<br/>And over all of this, the stench of blood and jasmine. Which, as I realised, was also emanating from me.<br/>A single parry, made in an impossible way, disarmed <em>it</em>...literally - breaking <em>its</em> wrists. Then I moved, gripped <em>its</em> neck in the chains, and stepped in a half-circle, smashing the <em>thing's</em> head in the wall.<br/>It was the feeling of triumph that carried me. Laughing now, I smashed the head again, and turned to see my other assailants.<br/>I had to parry the spear, and felt offended. Betrayed. Attacked by a far inferiour enemy, who almost surprised me nonetheless.<br/>The light shone even brighter as I delivered reflexively a snap kick to my girl's temple.<br/>My soul screamed, but my body was trained in the follow up. So while it was screaming, it was walled away behind the feeling of purpose, triumph and power.<br/>But my body was doing what it has been trained to. And I was spinning around and delivering an even more powerful second kick.<br/>She fell, unmoving, and her fall probably pained me far more than it pained her - for I believe the spirit had already left her body.<br/>I almost stopped, but I knew the kick had felt right. There was no reliving her.<br/>I tried to remind the screaming part of myself that my beloved had betrays not just my people, but all people on the world. Can you say "joining a cult of filthy unliving creatures"?<br/>Yet the own screaming part of me didn't want to listen.<br/><br/>Almost lost in these thoughts, I swung the three-sectioned staff, killing the guy instantly. Oh, if only I had done this outright, in our previous fight! Would I have been spared the previous moment, with her body falling softly and feeling nothing - that moment that I knew already I would be living time and time again in my dreams?<br/>Who knows? I am no philosopher, and I doubt they'd have an answer, either. Though they might wish they had one, I doubt it would be a real one. And these people are, way too often, wrong in the head anyways.<br/>Instead, I lost myself in what I did best: fighting.<br/><br/>After that, the staff sang its buzzing song, and the cult members who were there, fell down. The abomination rose again, and I broke <em>its</em> kneeecaps.<br/>Only after <em>it</em> had seen the loss of all of <em>its</em> cultists did I turn towards it, and smashed <em>its</em> head almost level with the stone pavements.<br/><br/>The Crane doesn't kill...usually. But I didn't understand my new abilities at that point. All I knew that only the greatest warriors, even among the Dragon-Blooded can defeat a member of an armed group without killing - and I didn't consider myself one.<br/><br/>It was only later that I realised: I wasn't one, because I was already better. Could I have avoided killing in this fight? My beloved at least - though I knew the families of other cultists as well, and didn't enjoy killing them?<br/>Who knows? Only I walked away on that day. And even I am not sure.<br/>Armchair philosophers would want to judge me or tell me what I did was fine. And to both I say: <strong>fuck your mothers!</strong><br/>Because no matter what side you're on, neither of you were there. I was. And if I didn't know what I could have done, you couldn't know it either!<br/></div></div>