Character Application: Mikhail Voss

[Voss]

Character Application

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

No, this is my first time playing Requiem.

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

I started RP'ing back in UO as the GM of one of the founding guilds of the High Council of Britannia on Great Lakes, where I helped organize several RP-PvP campaigns over the years. Since then I've also co-GMed an RP group that has played Star Wars Galaxies, Star Wars the Old Republic and World of Warcraft.

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

I’m looking forward to diving into the lore of this world with an immersive and well fleshed out RP experience alongside a group of like-minded friends. The grimdark world that’s been built looks beautiful and terrifying and I can really tell that there’s been an enormous amount of effort and passion poured into it.

What will your character’s name be?: Mikhail Voss

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

Mikhail is 32 years old and is 6’ tall, weighting 205 pounds. He has short, dark hair and a short trimmed beard. Though he is light skinned, he has a weathered look about him from spending many hours in the outdoors and appears a bit older than his age. His hands are heavily calloused from plying his trade, the physical demands for which have given him a sturdy frame.

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

Mikhail and his wife Lyanora decided that destiny has brought them together to help build a future together - and that there is no greater future than helping reclaim the First Province from the terrors they have spent years learning how to fight and survive against. They have learned how to clear small patches of woodland together – both of the tainted ones while also gathering materials and supplying others trying to survive.

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):

Mikhail was born in Teramer, where he apprenticed with Vasili Barkov, an expert weaponsmith who was sought out by the influential families in the area for the exceedingly rare skill (for the area) in the proper maintenance and restoration of the precious few bows and crossbows kept as prized heirlooms. Many of these bows had been crafted by some of the most skilled grandmasters from before the Torment and passed down from generation to generation... and these families entrusted Master Barkov with keeping them in pristine condition. Through keen observation and study of the mechanics and elements of bowcraft, as well as the steady and patient tutelage of his master, he would learn the intricacies of what made a proper bow. The types of lumber and the wood grain desired for their construction, and the painstaking precision needed to ensure the accuracy and strength of the bow was maintained. Wooden items of any kind are a rarity in Teramer, and archery equipment was no exception.

In truth, Master Barkov did not need an apprentice, however from time to time he needed fresh pieces of lumber for the restoration work he performed, or for fletching new bolts and arrows when a wealthy customer required replacements... and Master Barkov was not as young or light-footed as he used to be. It was for that purpose that Mikhail was taken on as an apprentice and taught the importance of the properties of the lumber required for quality bowcraft, and so he would be sent on perilous journeys to scavenge lumber remnants of the appropriate quality from a variety of dangerous sources. This was dangerous work, to be sure, work that required careful observation of the land, keen senses and the ability to traverse dangerous areas undetected. He would make the journey on many occasions, becoming well skilled at evading the various perils that may take the life of others. It was during one of these journeys that he met his future bride Lyanora. On that day, everything changed.

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

You have finally arrived at your destination; the Rumbling Pass train-yards. Before you stands 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 rail-cars. 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’ve 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 in order 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.”
You ponder the situation for a moment, evaluating your options. It is well known that with the right connections and the right amount of coin, one can get their hands on a Quarantine Visa from any one of the major Factions or Prelacy Families of the Republic, or even a passable counterfeit from more nefarious sources. At the same time, it would appear that the officiant doesn’t appear to be above some simple bribery – although his price may be hefty. However, despite it all, you’re sure that some of those let in appeared to have made a convincing case with the officiant without resorting to subterfuge or immorality. Gathering your wits, you step forward towards the officiant, and make your decision as to how to gain access to the First Province.

“Respectfully, sir, those bodies keep piling up because far too many venture forth ill-equipped and poorly supplied for the perils on the other side. I am a skilled archer, bowyer and fletcher, while my wife is well versed in hunting and crafting the highest quality leather armors and tailored goods. The people on the other side of the Quarantine cannot survive without a steady supply of weapons and armor – and it is our intention to supply them as needed and ensure they have a fighting chance against the plagued.”

Mikhail motions toward the sturdy leather armor him and his wife both wear, as well as the well carved bow and perfectly fletched arrows in his quiver. His wife beside him holds a spear, visibly battle worn from taking a variety of game and tainted ones.

“We seek only to do our part – because we are capable and as dedicated to the future of our People as we are to each-other, sir.”

[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!

The officiant seems to look through you as you speak. Yes, this man's right about that, at least. Far too many come ill-prepared for what awaits them. Though it is not armor and weapon they lack but resolve. Will. It is the soul that breaks before the iron and once it did it could not be so easily mended. It is only through proper tempering one might be prepared for what lies ahead, the officiant muses. But what did he know? He was a paper pusher, nothing more. He lazily stamps a piece of parchment before handing it to you and signaling you to continue.