## Metadata Name: F Holding: None Office: None ## Background You were born of the tangled union of roots and bulbs upon the surface of Genvia, among the largest of the sentient planets. This vast arbor world is populated with hundreds of trillions of vegetative lifeforms, each forming a neuron in the planet's great neuro-mycological mind, and would be considered the crown jewel of any Constellation...were it not in orbit around the Leviathan's Corpse. Instead the forests of your home were quiet places, swaying to the psychic tunes that hummed through space. Every life was a life offered to the Great Beast - forests burned, as forests must always do, flowers were crushed by falling branches to allow new growth, fruit rotted from the vine and planted seeds in the soil below. This mycelium world was born to feast upon dead things, and so it imagined the Leviathan to be little more than a cooperative host. The biological factory of Genvia churned out sacrifice after sacrifice, and all were accepted, but sometimes she endeavored to offer *more*. When stray godlings and intrepid ships ventured to land upon your surface, they were swallowed whole by the black earth and slowly digested, a thicket of spiny blackberries raised in honor and warning. It was from one such offering that you grew the meat and skin you now wear, when your roots grew through the neck of a Voidstalker who thought to claw their way to the surface. The death of the Plaguesmith was the least surprising thing in the world. Everything dies. You cannot imagine the lies that were told by this Empire, that so many have forgotten that oldest of truths. The Leviathan and Nature will both demand their sacrifices, and protestations of 'immortality' will not deny them. The **Wend** will each learn this truth in turn, and even the **Empress** herself one day. Today, the Council has gathered to assign their blame, to find the excuse that will let them believe that some can escape the cycle of birth and death. That is why you are here. You are Genvia's herald, the first of her roots ready to sap the ground of nutrients and poison its soil. Here, among the most powerful people in the universe, you will prepare for the Leviathan's arrival and bear witness to its harvest. ## Mechanics ### Asset: [[Myriad/Assets/Bringer of Doubt|Bringer of Doubt]] To be a Leviathan Cultist is to create doubt where once there was certainty. Surely no one would serve such a creature. Surely such a mad cultist could never harm us behind our sturdy walls. Surely we're safe. Surely. With your every action, you teach those around you that only doubt will survive. Whenever you participate in a [[Combat]], [[Negotiation]], or [[Endeavor]], you may choose to remove up to three advantages from your side. If you do, all other sides must remove a number of advantages equal to one more than the number you removed. With the exception of the first four sentences, this Asset is identical to [[Sageling]], and you may claim to have that Asset instead when questioned. ### Lien: [[Probably Not a Great Idea]] Alright. Yes. You serve the Leviathan's Corpse. Not only is it an unstoppable engine of horror and death, it also lost the biggest fight it ever had. Admittedly, this is not what most people would consider a great basket for all of your eggs. But they don't get it. They just don't. We've all been low. We've all had that moment when we stop being a person and start being an animal, that next moment when the animal goes and we become a rabid, broken *thing*. When even that has fled, we become meat. It is in that meat moment when we discover the truth of ourselves. We have not been brought low, we are lowly things which imagined ourselves on a height. We do not love ourselves, for it would be a mockery of love to give it to such an unworthy thing. The Leviathan's Corpse loves that thing. It loves your meat. It loves your broken rabidness. It loves your animalistic drive to *be*. It loves you whole and broken, high and low. In that love, it offers you a choice. Stagnate, or grow. Growth, of course, cannot come without pain, and you lost your pain in the meat moments long ago. Now, you must find that pain elsewhere. At the beginning of each session, you are Marked. Before the end of the session, you must pass that mark off by engaging another character in private conversation for at least five minutes on the topic of the Leviathan's Corpse. If you do so, that character becomes Marked. If the player chooses to mark another target in the same way before the end of the next session, nothing happens to them. If a character receives a mark and does not pass it on, that character dies at the end of the session. ## Themes These themes are offered to help inform roleplay, but do not carry a mechanical effect. - Cosmic Horror - The Necessity of Death - Escaping the Inevitable