Zhukon

Name: Zhukon, Watchful Sentinel Under the New Moon

Exalt Type and Caste: Lunar, Waning Moon Caste

Tell: Black skin or fur. Close examination may reveal extremely dark brown rings all across his skin.

Anima: Zhukon’s anima banner depicts a field of viridian and indigo plants, obscuring him from view. If the yellow-green eyes of a mighty hunting cat glint in the multicoloured bonfire, it is only to drive home the point. Flee, prey-things. The hunter has come.

Concept: Scouting Lunar, hunting the enemies of Bathistophonia.

Motivation: Find, and protect the people of Bathistophonia from, the unknown threats lurking both within and without.

Backstory: Zhukon had a complicated ancestry. By the time the Evacuee Fleet passed beyond the Allmind, intermingled blood was common. Fate, it seems, has conspired to create in Zhukon the strongest genetic heritage for nomadic life possible. He can trace his ancestry back to Northern tribesmen, Delzahn nomads, Linowan raiders, Haltan hunters and more. It shows.

Even as a young child, Zhukon was driven by an almost compulsive need to roam and explore. He was not happy as an infant, and only calmed down once he learned to crawl– when he could move, and explore under his own power, he was happy. Although, his family often wasn’t. ‘Finding Zhukon’ became a common family pastime, as he seemed to find somewhere new to hide every day.

This prediliction never faded as he grew, but Zhukon had no trouble finding work, even as a nomad. Small towns like his home were often only nominally part of one of the Eight Nations. They relied more on being aware of the world aroound them than any nebuloous possibility of aid from the nearest city. Zhukon made his way by exploring the depths of Autochthon, charting terrain, uncovering hazards and reporting the hidden bounties of Bathistophon.

Of course, it wasn’t without peril. Usually, he could drag himself out of the trouble he got himself into, but the people who knew him got used to not seeing him for days at a time. It became impossible to worry for him every time he went out to explore. It simply became accepted as fact: Zhukon always comes back. He might be a week overdue, with stories to tell that would chill your blood to imagine, but he comes back.

If people expected Zhukon’s frequent and prolonged absences to make him distance himself from humanity, they were dissapointed. Over time, his wanderlust transmuted to a genuine desire to protect people from the things he found, and when he returned to ‘civilisation’, he would celebrate life– in whatever form he could. He was an intense man in these times, given to the indulgences he set aside for so long. By and large, the people did not blame him. Whenever Zhukon returned, it was a reason to celebrate. Usually, it meant he’d found something worth coming back for, and stories to tell.

One of these sojourns, however, gave him his greatest story yet. It began unremarkably. The only occurrence of note was the encounter with an Assembly of Alchemicals in the early morning, several hours earlier. By mid-afternoon, Zhukon had contented himself with another day spent merely covering ground.

That was when he spotted the Deathknight.

It was a Deathknight, there was no mistaking that. The Soulsteel armour and deathly pallor made that abundantly clear. So, Zhukon did the natural thing and hid. After calming his racing heart, so loud he was certain the Abyssal must notice him just from its thumping, he began to think. The Abyssal was moving with purpose, in a direction that Zhukon realized with a start would lead it straight to his home town.

Zhukon considered his options. After carefully observing the Deathknight for several minutes, he was convinced the Abyssal didn’t know the area, and he clearly wasn’t particularly attentive. Zhukon could slip away, run for home and warn them ahead of time. He was about to do just that when he thought a bit further ahead. The problem was, Zhukon did know the area. The path from here to home was filled with twists, turns and broken ground. It was not conducive to swift travel. He might, might reach home ahead of the Abyssal, but then what? They’d never be able to muster enough troops to be worth the effort in time. At best, they could evacuate. The Abyssal would know he’d been discovered, and it would take weeks, maybe months to hunt him down. Who knew how much damage he could cause in the meantime?

On the other hand… Zhukon remembered the Assembly he’d met. Maybe they were still in the area? If he could track them down, he could lead them to the Deathknight and– no. Who knew how far away they were? He might not reach them in time. But there was no way the Abyssal was going to run into them on his own, and the chances of the reverse happening were equally slim.

Zhukon spent several careful minutes considering it. Finally, he set his jaw and made his choice. First, he removed his E.M. handset, recorded a brief message and set it to loop on an open channel. He was well out of range of any static installations able to pick up the message, but if he failed there was a chance the Assembly, or a similar group, might pick up the signal in time.

Then he took out his hand beampiece, checked and re-checked it, flicked it to automatic, sighted on the Deathknight and opened fire.

A futile gesture, of course. The Abyssal didn’t even bother to block; the bolts sparked off his armour without any effort on his part. But it did attract attention. Zhukon ran, the Deathknight in close pursuit.

The task Zhukon had set himself was monumental. Trek through the uncharted depths of Bathistophonia to track an Assembly of Alchemicals that you hope, oh sweet merciful gods you hope, is still in the area. All the while pursued by a Deathknight, one of the greatest killers in existence. And if, by some miracle, you outrun that Deathknight, you have to backtrack and let him catch up.

The chase lasted eleven hours. In that time, Zhukon traversed seven miles of labyrinthine tunnels that were often never meant to sustain human life. He exhausted himself, found his second wind and exhausted himself again. Many times he would dive into a hastily-selected hiding place to catch his breath while the Abyssal stalked the area. On only two of these occasions did Zhukon actually manage to rest long enough to refresh himself before the Abyssal started to lose interest, and Zhukon was forced to reveal himself again.

Finally, exhausted beyond measure, Zhukon stumbled into an open room and saw, through bleary eyes, five Alchemicals sitting in a circle. “To arms,” he gasped, falling to his knees, “A Deathknight is come!” He needn’t have bothered, the Abyssal already looming over him, daiklave readied for battle.

The conflict was short and fierce. Five battle-ready Champions were more than a match for one Deathknight, exhausted and frustrated by an infuriating mortal as he was. Perhaps a dozen heartbeats passed before it was concluded– not long at all, but long enough for Zhukon’s body to be completely enveloped in the silver fire of his Lunar Exaltation.

There was no panic. There were procedures for this. Neat, official procedures to handle it all quickly and efficiently. Zhukon slept for a full day– twenty-six hours, to be precise. By the time he awoke he had already been inducted into the Lunar Deliberative in absentia, his family had been notified, details had been taken, a mentor had volunteered and a set of trials concieved, whereupon a formal initiation ceremony would be conducted and he would be given his moonsilver tattoos and his Caste fixed.

These last three points were interrupted when he awoke and, on instinct, flared his anima. Aside from bringing his aides running, it also revealed his Waning Moon Caste Mark.

The reaction was immediate. After two thousand years, people knew how to handle that. Zhukon never felt the burning need to travel to the Silver Chair; things never had time to reach that point. He was shuttled over to it within the hour, and in his absence, the history of his Exaltation was carefully examined.

Determining the history of a Waning Moon is always difficult, and details of his immediate predecessor are sketchy in the extreme– the only thing they can be certain of is that he or she died within the last half-millennium, but the cause is completely unknown. There is some speculation that identity-concealing magics on par with the Sidereals Breaking of the Mask was used, possibly as a tactical move during the Century of War, possibly due to sheer paranoia– or, possibly, it’s just an excuse on the part of the record-keepers.

Records of the Exaltations first Incarnation are understandably fragmented, but she seems to have survived the Primordial War, and been active during the early First Age as an Inquisitor-figure responsible for ferreting out the last remnants of Primordial worship.

It is the intervening period that boasts the most complete records. Tiryanna Wyld-Walker Exalted as a Waning Moon in the mid-First Age, and spent most of her time on the edges of Creation. Apparently, she and her Solar Mate found themselves completely incompatible, and agreed that, Bond or no Bond, they would be better off separate. With Tiryanna, this sentiment appears to have grown until she avoided all Solars, for fear of the power they wielded over the Moonchildren.

Tiryanna was in Meru making a brief report at the time of the Usurpation, and apparently she acted with remarkable clarity. Her immediate reaction was to flee to the Threshold and, by means of Secure Den Prana, hid herself from Creation for at least two centuries. During this time, it is believed that she devoted considerable effort towards improving her ability to evade detection. No concrete records of her further activities exist, which seems to indicate she succeeded.Fragmented records, and some personal discussions between herself and members of the Silver Pact, suggest that she was attempting to break or redefine the Solar Bond in anticipation of the Lawgivers return. Clearly, she failed.

Of course, while all this was being discovered Zhukon was undergoing his training in the Silver Chair. It was a strange time. For the first year, Zhukon never thought to speak, and none spoke to him. He learned hunting at the knee of Granalkin, wrestled with Truculee, taking pleasure from the moon fae. Through it all, not a word was spoken. When, after a year, the first words were spoken to Zhukon, they were of a trivial matter. Nobody remarked on the year-long silence, nor have they since.

Another year passed, where Zhukon spent his time hunting dreams, practicing archery around corners in the mad architecture of the Silver Chair. He made his home in that place, finding friendship among moon fae, the entourage of Luna, and even the Fickle Lady herself. Though rightfully awed of the Argent Madonna at first, over the many months spent around her, Zhukon found he could look past the power and see the person within. This may contribute to why Luna kept him so close to her for so long.

But in time, even Zhukon ached to return Autochthonia, and Luna could not deny him. On a whim, he did not announce himself, instead slipping aboard Bathistophon unseen to make another of his sojourns into the depths. The first the Deliberative knew of his presence was when he turned up with the location of an untapped resource tube he’d discovered out in the depths. He had considered tapping it himself, but decided it was too much of a bother, and was willing to cut a deal with the authorities.

Somewhat flustered by his sudden arrival, the Deliberative was willing to accept the location of the tunnel along with information regarding the local hazards in exchange for paying Zhukon’s bills– within reason, of course. Zhukon studiously avoided mentioning the resources already granted to him by the Argent Madonna.

Since then, Zhukon has continued much as before. His pre-Exaltation work is still very relevant to the Evacuee fleet, but it has expanded considerably. With the depths of Bathistophonia and the Silver Chair to explore, unknown planets to scout and the Slaver war to fight, Zhukon has plenty to occupy his time.

Zhukon refuses any moonsilver tattoos. Living as he does aboard the Silver Chair, his Wyld defenses are already formidable, and his Caste already fixed.

Appearance: Most of Zhukon’s features are obscured beneath his onyx skin. Perhaps he has freckles. Perhaps he was albino. Perhaps, but few remember. It has all been swallowed up by his dark skin, leaving his features curiously uniform. Attributes

Physical (Tertiary)

Strength ●●● (3)
[C]Dexterity ●●●●● (5)
Stamina ●●● (3) Social (Primary)

Charisma ●●● (3)
[C]Manipulation ●●●● (4)
Appearance ●●●● (4) Mental (Secondary)

[F]Perception ●●● (3)
Intelligence ●●● (3)
[C]Wits ●●● (3)

Abilities

Archery ●●●●● (5)
Athletics ●● (2)
Awareness ●●● (3)
Dodge ●●● (3)
Integrity
Martial Arts ●●● (3)
Melee
Resistance ●● (2)
Thrown
War

Craft
Larceny
Linguistics ● (Autochthonian, Old Realm) (1)
Performance
Presence ●●● (3)
Ride ●●● (3)
Sail
Socialize ●●● (3)
[F]Stealth ●●●●● (5)
[F]Survival ●●●●● (5)

Bureaucracy ● (1)
Investigation
Lore ●● (Cartography) (2)
Medicine
Occult ● (1)

Backgrounds Artifact ●●●●● (Short Moonsilver Powerbow, Moonsilver Celestial Battle Armour, Girdle of the Cthonic Baara)
Mentor ●●●●● (Luna remains very interested in Zhukon’s progress, and the two maintain both a master/student relationship, and an honest friendship)
Wealth ●●●
Panoply ●●
Manse ●●● (Zhukon maintains a Lunar Manse on the Silver Chair, which grants him both a Snakeskin Stone and a home away from Bathistophonia)

Artifacts and Equipment
Silver Hunter’s Bite (Short Moonsilver Powerbow) This recurved moonsilver bow seems at first to show a surprisingly restrained aesthetic for an artifact weapon. Meant for use in rough terrain and confined spaces, it lacks the usual impressive size and protrusions of an artifact weapon, but close examination reveals endless endless flowing Old Realm runes wound about the haft, declaring devotion to dozens of hunting gods, several of which no longer exist. The string, when pulled taught, purrs like a pleased cat. Along with the All-Seeing Argent Sentinels Wargear, Zhukon received it from Granalkin, near the end of his training on the Silver Chair.

All-Seeing Argent Sentinels Wargear (Moonsilver Celestial Battle Armour with Essence Tracking, Enchanted Stride and Moonsilver Blades features) The armour is of extremely functional design, and when inert is more reminiscent of the Sidereals Starmetal suits than Moonsilver. When worn however, the shapeshifting metal displays, by subtle changes in hue and shade, endless lines of scrollwork and artistic depictions, recording and celebrating the deeds of its wearers. Zhukon claimed it from his manse on the Silver Chair, where it was carefully arranged on a throne in the main hall.

Girdle of the Cthonic Baara On loan from Luna to one of her favoured children, this unremarkable moonsilver belt defies easy notice, and grants the wearer peerless shapeshifting flexibility.

Charms

[Strength]
Claws of the Silver Moon

[Stamina]

Might-Bolstering Blow

[Charisma]

Hard-Nosed Denial Style

[Perception]

Blood On The Wind

[Intelligence]

Flesh-Sculpting Art
Laughing Into the Teeth of Madness

[Wits]
The Spider’s Trap Door

[Excellencies]

First [All] Excellency
Second [All] Excellency
Third [All] Excellency

Knacks
Hybrid Body Rearrangement
Twin-Faced Hero
Deadly Beastman Transformation (Mutations: Enhanced Smell and Hearing, Talons, Fur, Gazelle’s Pace)

Join Combat: 6

Defenses Dodge DV: 7
Parry DV: 5 (6 in Argent Sentinel) Soak: 3B/1L

Health -0 [ ][ ][ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
-X [ ]

Mental Defenses

Dodge MDV 5
Parry MDV 4

Virtues Compassion ●●●● “Why do we do what we do, if not for the people?”
Conviction ●● “Sometimes, adversity means you should find a better way”
Temperance ●●● “The patient hunter gets the prey.”
Valor ●● “Courage and honour are fine things, but they have no place in my life.”

Intimacies Solar Bond (Hatred)
Solar Mate (It’s… Complicated)
Luna (Erisian devotion)
Truculee (Happiness)
Exploration (Contentment)

Zhukon’s remaining 6 Intimacies are left intentionally blank, giving him room to grow. Feel free to make suggestions, especially as regards other characters!

Willpower: ●●●●●●● (7)

Essence Permanent: ●●● (3)
Personal: 17/17
Peripheral: 42/42

Bonus Point Breakdown Compassion 2 to 4 (2)
Survival 3 to 5 (2)
Stealth 3 to 5 (2)
Archery 3 to 5 (4)
Dexterity 4 to 5 (3)
Manse 3 (3)
Willpower 5 to 7 (2)