## Metadata Name: Z Holding: None Office: None ## Background You were born listening to the currents of space. Your birthplace was *The Kyr Feather,* a cradle hurtling through the emptiness of space, built to manufacture prophets. You were raised in the perfect darkness of the place between stars, with machine guardians and AI caretakers that saw to your needs so quickly, you never once learned the taste of hunger or the pain of need. For long years you lay in your metal tomb and gazed upon the glory of Lakh and her billions of shining kingdoms. While you slept the *Feather* picked apart your dreams, analyzing your foresight and dissecting your premonitions. Whatever arcane formula it measured you by, you measured up, and were permitted to continue your devoted studies. As you matured you turned your attention away from Lakh's brilliant lights and towards the dark spaces in-between, where waves of dark matter carried the whispers of skittering claws and the echoes of sharpening knives to your eyes. You learned to spy disaster as it approached; and the data that you provided the *Feather* may well have saved billions of lives from ruin. Then again, maybe not. To you it was enough that these things be seen, and known. That is, until you saw what was coming next. At first you refused to believe it - the Lakh that you loved could not hold such ugliness in it, such *terror.* When could deny your visions no longer you begged the *Feather* to allow you to intercede. When it refused you took the first actions of your life, seizing control of the ship and choking off its AI pilots. The ship was left nearly crippled, but you knew that you would arrive in time to bear warning. Why else would the Galaxy have sent you this message? The death of the Plaguesmith is a disaster and a beacon. It has rippled through the cosmos, news carried by the currents of space, and something in the darkness has heard it. A terrible thing moves in the deep, and as it travels towards you it may swallow the very light of the stars in its wake. You do not know if it comes to avenge the Plaguesmith or to rejoice at his passing, but you know in your very bones that its arrival will spell disaster for everything. ## Mechanics ### **Asset: [[Voidsong|Voidsong]]** The harmonious lilt of the cosmos bears you up from second to second. You do not need food, or water, or oxygen. Not even your physical form is truly necessary so long as you can hear the chorus of ages and your own place in the tune. You are immune from physical harm of any kind, and can survive comfortably in the void of space. If you lose a [[Combat|Combat]], you cannot be forced to take damage unless your enemy has at least 5 net advantage. Even then, in a [[Combat#Local|Local]] or [[Combat#Regional|Regional]] scenario, you immediately discorporate and reappear at a safe location upon taking damage. You can only be killed in [[Combat#Global|Global]] or [[Combat#Fleet|Fleet]] scenarios. ### **Lien: [[Discordant Stars|Discordant Stars]]** The galaxy is not perfect. Not yet. One day, every atom of the galaxy will move in perfect harmony, every photon dance according to its assigned place. The song of the void will resound in all souls, and the galaxy will be free of want and fear. Today, however, the song is stifled, drowned out by a deafening din of disagreement. It is the duty of the Voidsingers to bring the galaxy into harmony and give every living thing a chance to hear the song. In every conversation, at every opportunity, you must attempt to guide others toward the enlightenment of the void. If you ever let an entire conversation go by without attempting to instill spiritual wisdom, you are overcome by remorse and a sense of missed opportunity. If you ever fail to uphold the tenets of the Voidsingers, you lose access to the Voidsong Asset. ## Themes These themes are offered to help inform roleplay, but do not carry a mechanical effect. - The Cold and the Vast - The Price of Love - Cosmic Horror