## Metadata Name: T Holding: [[The Gossamer Crow]] Office: [[Governor]] ## Background You were born far too long ago, and have been cursed with eternity ever since. Had you been closer in line to the High Seat of House Ludens you expect more exact records would have been kept, but the third born child to the third born child of the High Seat amounts to little more than a clerical footnote. The only thing that saved you from a life of polite conversation and sedentary debauchery was your grandfather; one look at the hunger that filled your eyes even in infancy and he promptly banished you from his presence. You were bequeathed an old explorer-class vessel called *The Gossamer Crow,* named its Governor in a hurried ceremony, and sent out to survey the House's holdings (current and prospective). You saw to your duties, of course, but as your High Seat predicted, you proved yourself insatiable. Thus far, your endless quest to experience every sensation available to biotics has led you to well over two hundred thousand planets and just shy of eighty thousand star bases (not counting the boring ones). Your ship accumulated all manner of hangers-on, taking advantage of the comfortable lodgings, the dazzling refreshments, and sometimes the speedy manner with which you moved between jurisdictions. Relativity does strange things to the passage of time, and with the poor documentation of your birth you really don't know how long your journey continued. You sought out new sensations like a drowning man breathes water. You ate every food, drank every wine, bathed in the light of every sun...each experience and joy swirled together into a miasma of planets and joys. The stars started to skip, repeat, parts written to the same melody and rhythm until - in your desperate search for novelty, you found you were left with only boredom. A terrible, numb boredom that froze down to the very core of you. At long last, there was nothing else. Until Leviathan. How could you describe the arrival of that wretched carcass? Glorious, horrifying, you felt its presence wash over you like a revelation long before you caught sight of it. The curve of its gravity crept like the coast of a sea drawing back to make way for a tsunami, and you welcomed every drop of its psychic energy into every atom of yourself. You were in motion before you understood what it demanded of you; the moment you realized which levers you had pulled you wept with relief. The process of turning any carbon-based lifeform into mineral is primitive: simply immolate, apply pressure and heat, and wait. Every passenger on your ship was crystalline within moments, and every one of them sang in terrible ecstasy. The Death of the Plaguesmith was a gift, hand crafted and delivered to you alone by the grace of your cosmic muse. Millions of diamonds now orbit the Great Corpse by your hand, and when much is given something is returned. You seek novelty, and look at what has been delivered: a great Council where the 'great and powerful' of the galaxy will fight and deal and simper over something they never could have expected could happen. It offers endless possibilities to fuel your addiction, and you intend to bleed every attendant here dry. ## Mechanics ### **Asset: [[Dragon's Hoard]]** You are a member of one of the Great Houses. Thousands of worlds across the galaxy owe fealty to your house, with trillions of people living and dying at your whim. Even the least powerful members of such institutions can expect to live thousands of years, and to exercise such privilege as can hardly be described by those who've never experienced it. You have access to two pieces of Relic-class equipment. You may use this equipment yourself or give it away (or sell it, trade it, etc.). - *The Gossamer Crow* is an explorer-class vessel. Normally, it would be something of a faux pas to pilot such an archaic piece of equipment, but for the scion of a Great House, such things become timeless rather than outdated. Old as it may be, the Crow has been home to many of the galaxy's greatest artists, and it remembers their secrets. When this ship is involved in an [[Endeavor]], the participants gain 3 advantages. - *The Siren's Siren* is one of those weird things you figure probably has some kind of use, but you can't figure out what for the life of you. You keep it around because someone once offered you enough money to buy a star system in exchange for the thing, but you don't know what it's supposed to be doing. What you do know is that it's a small disc the size of a hockey puck, and when you put it next to any high-quality sensor or comms receiver, that device melts in a few seconds. ### **Lien: [[Yoked to Tradition|Yoked to Tradition]]** Great Houses don't bother with nonsense fantasies like "personal lives" or "individual identities". You exist to be a member of your House, and to serve that House's ambitions. While the high seat commands a great deal of power, not even they are above the dictates of the family at large. Your entire life is a balancing act, devoted to keeping as much of the family happy as possible without making anyone angry enough to be rid of you. Any time you have the opportunity to do something for the good of the house, regardless of the personal cost, you must do that thing. The only exception is when attempting a coup against another member of your own house, in which case you may inflict as much harm as necessary to secure your desired position. If you are publicly proven to have worked against your house's best interests, you will be summarily executed. ## Themes These themes are offered to help inform roleplay, but do not carry a mechanical effect. - Cosmic Horror - The Barren Nature of Eternity - The Instability of Revelations