Application: Valentin Ostell [Secondary Character]

[Ashford]

Do you have any prior experience with Requiem? If so, please detail when (and what characters, if desired) you previously played:

Yes as Ashford Reed, this is a secondary character slot application.

Briefly summarize your prior role-playing experience in a sentence or two:

N/A

Why do you wish to play on Requiem, and what do you expect from the shard?

N/A

What will your character’s name be?

Valentin Ostell

Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight, and any notable features:

This man is past his 40's. He is shorter than average but has a very muscular build. He looks rather plain if not a little disheveled. His hair is in short curls and his beard unkempt.

His face rests in sort of a scowl, somewhat bothered. His grey eyes search you upon meeting his gaze as if he's sizing you up in his mind.

He has great posture and moves deftly. He seems very deliberate in his actions, quiet and calculated.


Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:

Valentin has been intrigued by the stories of travelers heading toward the First Province. He's worked as a sword for hire in many a poor situation and still survived. He sees opportunity in these hopeful souls braving the fallen shadow of Tor.

Briefly provide a pertinent detail or notable quality of your character’s history (this does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret):

Born in the foot hills of the Godspine in poverty Valentin is as unforgiving as the stone and brutal as the cold valley winds. He worked his childhood skinning pelts, swinging a pickaxe, or whenever available shaping wood few and far between.

Torment ravaged most any village he'd heard spoken of by the time he'd reached adulthood. With the threat or Torment and those who took advantage of some of the smaller settlements he quickly became deadly with an array of weapons. Serving merchant caravans as protection or taking coin to hunt those exploiting the panic he found himself a skilled sellsword.

When he heard of the fall of Tor to him it sounded more of the same as his life in entirety... and greener grass to boot.

Briefly write an in-character response to the following scenario:



You have finally arrived at your destination; the Rumbling Pass train-yards. Before you stand a massive outpost, looking to have been erected within the past few years, of which is patrolled by numerous Legionnaires and Church Templar. The outpost guards the only viable entrance to the recently quarantined First Province, the home of Tor, the fallen capital of the Republic. Sitting at the foot of the massive mountain range that effectively contains the First Province within, the outpost serves as the last obstacle you must overcome before entering the quarantined territory.

You and others like you assemble outside of the palisades of the outpost, awaiting the opportunity to speak your case to the presiding Legion officiant who is processing admittance to the province. Behind him, a passenger train, a marvel of technological advancement, sits idling on its’ tracks, dozens of persons filling it’s numerous passenger cars. A true rarity within the Republic, you can hardly believe your eyes (and ears) as the locomotive releases a massive plume of steam from its’ smokestack. You overhear many a bewildered citizen around you gossip as to how the only truly safe way into the province is now by rail, for the Rumbling Pass’ mountains are nigh impassible and miles long, with the only safe navigable tunnels being those traveled in the safety of locomotives and railcars. You shudder for a moment, pondering how many forsaken souls attempted to flee the cloistered Province through the Pass’ winding, dark tunnels, hordes of Afflicted upon their heels, only to be cut down in the pitch-black darkness.

It strikes you as peculiar that so much effort has been made in securing a means of logistical supply and personnel transportation into the fallen First Province. You have heard rumors before of Quarantine Zones; entire Municipalities and even Territories being cut-off from access due to the blight of the Torment and the over-abundance of the walking dead – but in most instances, no one is ever trying to get into to those forsaken places. Yet here, mere miles from the ruins of Tor, masses congregate to make their way into the First Province Quarantine Zone. If you hadn’t known any better, the entire scene – the Outpost, the mass of military personnel, the throngs of citizens and the hissing locomotive – resembles more of an evacuation rather than a one-way ticket into anarchy and lawlessness. As you make your way closer to the train-yard outpost, you can’t help but recall all of the wild and crazy stories concerning all manners of rumors about the First Province since it’s fall two years ago. Some say that the treasures awaiting the bold are beyond measure – others swear that Salvation and Ascension is guaranteed for those who would follow their Faith and help reclaim the First Coast.

Where the truth lies, you’ve no idea – you only know that you’re here, at the precipice of it all, and your destination is within reach.

You watch, somewhat defeated, as but a scant few of the hundreds that approach the outpost officiant, who stands at the outer gates of the outpost flanked by a few heavily armored Legionnaires, are actually allowed to pass through the man-door and into the outpost and train-yards proper. You see some swarthy fellows slip pieces of gold to the officiant, while others plead their cases and rationale as to why they should be allowed to enter the recently fallen territory. Some appear to provide some sort of paperwork to the officiant, flashing official looking papers from a Faction or influential Prelacy house, who promptly waves them through. While watching and eavesdropping, you manage to overhear the well-rehearsed speech the officiant provides to those whom don’t provide paperwork or grease his palm, the words monotone and nasally.

“By decree of the Venerated Church, the First Province is a mortal health hazard, and as such, is quarantined under Article Eighteen of the Republic Treatise of Health Act of 1320. Citizens who do not possess a Quarantine Visa issued by one of the recognized Factions of the Republic are considered non-essential to the reclamation of the First Province. Under Article Eighteen, non-essentials seeking entry into an official quarantine zone must petition for entry into a said zone, and state just cause for the issuing of a Quarantine Visa by the perimeter authority.”

The officiant snorts in disdain, then adds the last line to the rehearsed monologue:

“State your business and make it quick, citizen; we’ve enough bodies in there to keep us busy for years without adding yours to the pile, and those VIC are stirring up problems something fierce as of late.”

Approaching the officiant after having waited the long line he forces a smile nodding to the man as he engages him. "Well met there, Decus bless you. I've no papers you see, no sob story or whatnot I've overheard others present to you. I'm but an honest sword against the darkness. What's beyond those rails is nothing I haven't seen before. I'm looking to trade a cold mountain for your latest project then."

The officiant sighs a bit disgruntled with just how many people don't have proper documentation to proceed:

Approaching the officiant after having waited the long line he forces a smile and some charm nodding to the man as he engages him.

"Well met there, Decus bless you. I've no papers and no shite story to tell. I've worked for you lot before collecting hides, iron, and fair at carving a bow. I'm but an honest sword who's lived this long against his odds. What's beyond those rails is nothing I haven't seen before. I'll be of more use than most of these soft wanderers."

"Heard tale of Tor and I imagine if I'll be up against the Torment creeping over everything we thought good or bad in the world I might as well be here where there's riches to be gained."

He reached out to grab the officiant's wrist and shake it with his other hand placing three gold coins forecfully in to his palm.

"I aim to gain more than given I'd wager, you can write Valentin on your papers there."

[Coty]

Congratulations, adventurer! Your application is...

Approved!

Please ensure that your character name is spelled correctly upon exiting the Songmaker's chambers. A GM will approve your character at their earliest convenience.

Welcome to Requiem!