Caedre

Game: Caedre
Type: LARP
Author: Dominic D'Andrea
Date: 10/2008

Teaser: Lit and heated by cheery but dignified firelight, the room seemed smaller than it actually was. The heavy curtains were drawn firmly shut, denying the white world without and adding to the feeling of cloying closeness within.
Seven or eight men and women perched excitedly on an assortment of couches, sipping wine and arguing.
"No, no, you have it all wrong," one man was saying as he gesticulated wildly with his wine glass. "We need to humor them! As distasteful as it may be, there is no denying their, ahem, abilities. Clearly, we have no choice in the matter! Otherwise we shall all be overrun and murdered in our beds, I shouldn't wonder." He glanced around furtively, as if they were all about to be ambushed that very instant.
Immediately there was an outburst of voices, some expressing hearty agreement, some shouting their disapproval. Finally one voice rose above the chaos, and the others paused to refill their lungs and prepare themselves to resume the outcry.
"They'll kill us all in any case! We should strike first, while we still can; how long do you think until our own people rise up against us? The world is on the edge of disaster, and we sit about twiddling our thumbs! We need to act, decisively, immediately, not attempt to reason with them. Do you hear me? They mean to kill us! It is my opinion — "
But no one quite felt like listening to what his opinion was just then. Having sufficiently regained their breath, everyone launched straight back into proclaiming their own take on the issue at hand, for the most part completely ignoring the people around them or listening only when it pleased them. They talked and talked, right up until breakfast was announced, at which point they hurriedly broke off and rushed off to a warm and elegant meal quite removed from talk of death and politics, as was only civilized.
~~~

Kana lifted her head to the wind, flaring her nostrils slightly. She breathed deeply of the dry air, sifting through the various scents, searching for that taint of metal, sweat, fear. The smell she sought was distinctly out-of-place in this wild land.
Nine people watched her from short distance away, leather packs slung across their shoulders. They all carried weapons, mainly knives, and were watching her intently. The seconds stumbled by. Finally she lowered her head and turned back to the others to answer their unasked question.
"Nothing. I don't smell them."
A tangible ripple of relief spread through the group, and everyone relaxed and turned to their leader, a lean and scarred man with an aura of dignity and power resonating in his every move. He nodded, and immediately the group sprang into action, adjusting pack straps, covering the smoldering remains of last night's fire. In a surprisingly short amount of time, they had erased all evidence of their passing.
The ragged group departed nearly silently, maintaining a steady pace until they had left the site far behind, hurried along their way by nightmarish visions of returning to find their village slaughtered, their homes pillaged and burned to the ground. With each step an anxious knot formed in each of their stomachs, a twisted lump of dread, which could only be relieved by the sight of their home, safe.
It began to snow.



World Background(s):
HELL BACKGROUND
Most demons don’t actually live in Hell anymore. It’s not a very nice place to be — there’s rather too much fighting and disorganization and not enough fun. There’s no central authority to stop them from leaving, so Hell is empty except for some stubborn demonic gangs and the da’Kua (basically the demonic Mafia). Nowadays, most demons prefer to live among humans in secret or stay on the move, often living as mercenaries.
It’s a hazardous occupation. It’s easy to get killed, or caught by the angels. The angels have spy systems and police all over the universe, keeping tabs on demonic criminals. If a demon gets caught, the angelic police tattoo the angelic symbol on a knuckle, starting with the right index finger. Five tattoos and they kill you. The tattoos disappear after precisely one hundred years after they were placed, and cannot be removed or covered (magically or with paint).
Demons are not, as humans and angels seem to think, inherently evil. They are in fact not very different from the angels, except that they are less organized and regulated. Some are cruel, malevolent, or greedy; some are kind, gentle, or generous. They are diverse in everything from looks to behavior. The major difference between demons and angels is that angels grow up being taught to be ‘good’, whereas demons grow up being taught to survive.

HEAVENLY BACKGROUND
The angels are on a massive half-crusade half-inquisition, and they have taken it upon themselves to destroy any planet or civilization they declare unworthy, so the entire population of Caedre is damned in their eyes. There's a glory of angels going to eliminate them. Additionally, an unspoken reason for the war is that Heaven is getting crowded. Heaven is an actual place (technically a dimension), and only angels live there...but since angels rarely die, the population is increasing beyond sustainable limits.
God is no longer actually the political leader, he is a puppet king. There are three Archangels: Casta, Eversio, and Volentes. The power lies in the hands of these three Archangels. In general there is great unrest in Heaven and masses of angels are being drafted into the army, some of whom have never fought within conscious memory.
There is also a Grand Military Commander called Pheonix, who leads the main body of the Angelic Army. The Archangels have sent a glory of angels, headed by Pheonix himself, to reduce the planet to rubble.
Since angels are creatures of the spiritual, their physical bodies are not terribly important. Most of their essence lies on the astral plane. If the body of an angel or demon is killed, s/he comes back as him/herself after a few minutes, often disoriented and with slightly fuzzy memories. The only way to truly kill an angel is by destroying their soul as well as their body, simultaneously; thus, it generally requires two people and quite a lot of strength. Pheonix’s strategies often call for group magical attacks, because in pooling their strength they can maximize their efficiency and effectiveness.
When they are not using combat magic, angels fight mostly with Sendings (with the result that the angels do less physical fighting themselves). Sendings are creatures or beings they create from energy to fight for them. They don't have the capability to disobey their angel’s orders, but they are intelligent and have personalities.

WORLD BACKGROUND: CAEDRE
Caedre is not a very hospitable planet. It's going through an ice age, and everyplace except the equator is getting too cold for comfort. There’s not enough food production anymore due to crop failure, and previous food supplies are shrinking rapidly. Deep-seated racism and squabbles over land, money, resources, and everything else possible to fight over have left the world torn and the land soaked in blood.
Technologically, think early 1700s; for some perspective, things like bifocal glasses, flush toilets, and thermometers have very recently been invented. There is very little metal ore and not enough arable land to truly support development of advanced technology and scientific research. A single country (Sarria) with a government made up of aristocrats and wealthy land-owners controls most of the world, with various less powerful governments of smaller countries owing allegiance and/or tribute to the more powerful country. In the crisis imposed by the ice age, the Sarrian government seized political control of almost the entire world and supposedly has jurisdiction over migration/resources/etc.. However, in reality the Ladarians (any race other than Banai is collectively called ‘Ladarian’) are shifting towards the equator regardless of restrictions and laws against such things. The impending ice age has caused mass immigration towards the equator of the planet in a desperate race for hospitable land, crowding the native Banai out of their land as the Ladarians flee the cold. The Sarrian government is sending a group of ambassadors down to try and negotiate with the Banai.
Around the equator, where the Banai live, the ruling system is pretty much tribal, with a Shaman Council that usually meets every two years to deal with issues ranging across the tribes or to settle intertribal disputes. However, the Shaman Council has set out in order to parley with the Sarrian Ambassadors, taking with them with several hand-picked Banai.
Because of fear of change, experience with bad treatment by Ladarians, and because there just isn't enough food, the Banai are resisting the entry of the Ladarians into their lands. Oftentimes, the Banai are simply overwhelmed by sheer numbers and superior technology and killed or just overrun and treated horribly. However, the Ladarians cannot, as a general rule, do magic, so the Banai have a certain advantage. This is the only real reason the Ladarians haven’t simply elbowed their way in and also why the Sarrians are aiming for a peaceful, albeit unfair, method of assimilation.

Group Background:
The group of demons that you belong to is a band of roving mercenaries, led by Anatorius. Anatorius has been the leader of this little band for ten years. He was second in command to the last leader, Cratha, but Cratha was caught and killed by the da’Kua for owing them money.
You guys go from dimension to dimension in search of jobs. They aren’t always illegal; they don’t always involve fighting. You have done a fair bit of smuggling and carrying messages across dimensions. However, your most common type of job is assassination, and right now you have a target: the Archangels. Your employer is Pheonix, the angelic commander. He’s offered you, not money, but forgiveness for all previous crimes (and removal of any knuckle tattoos).

Character:
Desynth
You are a tough but caring demon, and very old (although it doesn’t show on your body, of course). You were part of Cratha’s group before any of the current members joined, and you were sad to see him go. You are an almost maternal figure in the group, but that doesn’t mean you’re soft and cuddly. You loathe bullies, and are very strong and quick.
Before you were part of the group, you were part of the da’Kua. A messenger, to be precise. You still have the skill of exact recitation: you can perfectly mimic anybody’s voice, intonation, and wording when you want to. However, you got sick of the constant power games and ran away one night two hundred fifty years ago.
Unfortunately several group members have been killed or caught recently, and things have been going downhill.
Your main friends in the group are Malakyte and Cintus.

(Props to Dom on this, btw. Probably the character I've had that's closest to my personality. ...Except more so now than then... Dom can see into the future! O.O)

Interesting Game Convention(s): Sheep. Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

How Game Went: Unfortunately, the guy who was to play Anatorius, the group leader, didn't show up that day. Which means I got a promotion, of sorts! I think that for my first time playing a rather important character, and my second game, it went fairly well. We walked up, saw the angels tell the people of the planet that they were doomed, and took it from there, some of us trying to deal with the panic, some of us going off to assassinate the archangels. A lot of this is foggy, again, it was a long time ago, but I'm pretty sure we saw that Pheonix was going to kill us, too, and booked it. Lot of stuff I don't remember, but I do remember that near the end, when game should have been called, the gamewriter was too into character to do so (we'd been opening a portal to get the inhabitants of the planet away to somewhere safe). Struggling, I said, "Well, how about that last place we were?"
Malakyte responded, "No, they chased us right through there."
"Hm..."
"How about the planet with the sheep?"
"Okay..." So we took them to the planet with the sheep. The guy who'd been playing Pheonix (and was now recast, as he'd been overcome) decided to show up as a shepherd... who had no concept of a LOT of things (oh Sol, you dork. Sometime I'll have to track all my interactions with him). We asked him if there were any cities around, and he didn't know what those were, and somehow we got into a discussion of if he knew anything, and apparently he'd read some books that he happened to have in his cottage...
It got to the point of us asking what was around and him pointing in a direction and saying, "A very very very very long way that way there're some sheep. A very very very very very very very very very long way that way there's a hill." Finally someone called game.
That ending's since been redlined, but the moral of the story is, if you're the gamewriter, don't get TOO into character. Or have someone else willing to call game? Or... something? Hell if I know. But it was hilarious.
(Also, the posh British guys. If you know what I mean, you know. I don't know how anyone ever kept a straight face around him.)



(From left to right: Cintus, Djanus with the badass axe monster weapon, me with the derp face, and Malakyte with the Mjolnir-weapon.)