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TO GOD, I SWORE THIS TIME WOULD COME...

Atrius stood before us, neither brother nor ally. We had heard much of his misdeeds, but it took this very instant for me to believe any of it. Stories of his atrocity left me unbelieving, more so for the sake of our past friendship. My reprimanding was silent and internal. Only the sound of the rain striking in waves hinted at the turmoil I felt.

Storm and wind howled around my stoic companions. We four stood like iron bars in the swirling tempest. Uninhibited by the freezing shower that beat our hoods, Atrius defied us with silence and a relaxed grip on his sword; not even a glint of recognition in his dead gaze. The stigma of his deeds had become stained into his armor and would not wash away no matter how hard the rain fell. Nothing could absolve him, now. He was beyond any redemption I could offer save one. Dread and disgust ground together inside me in the pestle and mortar of my stomach as I steeled for what would come next.

Atrius' crimes were the greatest of all. One who had been blessed and given the divine strength of the Lord himself. "Heaven-touched," the common folk called it. He and I were alike in that sense. I harbored shame admitting any likeness to such a foul creature. It would be heresy to even feel sorrow for his passing. I dwelt on this.. perchance for too long.

Thorlief charged ahead of me. Heedlessly, he lunged for him, wielding the sword of his ancestors, an ancient and mighty moorsword that was a willow switch in his giant hands. His great boots kicked up mud and mire water amidst his reckless race. My apprehensions unsettled me further. Something terrible was going to happen, and I was rarely wrong about such things; the Lord's gift to me. But, foolishness is always faster than caution.

Thorlief's sword shattered when it struck him. Impossible? Perhaps. But, Atrius had become a creature of impossibilities. The smoking fragments skipped across puddles and gave even Thorlief pause for thought. How could such a creature be endured by our Lord? I felt like an infant, injured in affairs wholly inscrutable to me. I wanted to resolve this injustice, this living anathema, this betrayal of faith. I cried out for blood. Blood in the name of God Himself.

It was then Atrius turned to face me. In his eyes I saw nothing but my own guilt. I am to blame for his fall. I did nothing to prevent it. This world and all its evil is the fault of some inaction. Here, before me in all his iniquity, stood mine.

Chaos followed. Thorlief was backhanded so hard I was sure that it had killed him. His large body slumped into a shallow pool and lay still. A knife darted and found a home into Atrius' chest; Helaine's signature. Atrius was unmoved, only turning his attention to the poor girl. Helaine froze, she was no fighter, and as much as a fool as Thorlief. My instincts shoved Helaine out of the way and took the crushing blow. It glanced off my shield and into my arm. My knees buckled under the weight of what seemed like a falling oak.

Father Bernard warded the heretic, brandishing the sacred Leonem. But wards are useless against iron. A fell blow to his face spit hot blood onto my cheek. How was he moving so fast? I could not save us. I could not save Atrius.

And just when the last of us hit the blood splattered ground, I found I could brook this atrocity no further...

--Katarin The White, Sister to The Sacred Order of the White Lion

 

 

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The World of Gothic

THE WORLD OF GOTHIC

Gothic: The Lion Age is a game of hard decisions and moral dilemmas. The world is a dark, oppressive place where mankind's greatest enemy is itself, and yet far worse things await beyond the fringes of the comfortable reaches of the Throne of God on Earth. It is a world of gray where the right thing to do is also the wrong thing to do, where morality and necessity clash.

The setting focuses its attention on the Throne, a confederacy of nations united by the deeds of a line of dead conquerors and, by their conversion, to the ideals of the Holy Benalian Church. There are many cultures and peoples within the Throne that interact with conflicting ideals and customs, with barriers of language and geography that would otherwise make the Throne crumble. The Throne, however, cannot afford to crumble, for it is only through their continued cooperation that any of them survive. Terrors of the soul await those who's vigilance falters for an instant.

Meanwhile, four Guilds of Magicians, each representing a primal elemental force, vie for control under the pretense of alliance. As the Guilds feast on the bloated body of the Throne three terrible deities circle above biding their time. A Triumvirate of dark Gods wait patiently to destroy the Holy Church, its people and its God from the inside. In their name, unspeakable horrors are carried out; nameless evils that defy understanding and reason, all for the worship of power. It is man's very nature to desire power: The power to live their life as they choose, the power to destroy their enemies, the power to never die, the power to make the world a better place. These deities seem to offer it. The price is so very high, but for all the right or all the wrong reasons, some are willing to pay any price.

What to do in Gothic: the Lion Age

In the game of Gothic, you take on the role of a character thrust into a world that wishes ill upon you, and encourages you to take the quick and easy path to achieve your goals, whatever they might be. Many characters arrive into play because of pilgrimage, while others have political aspirations and still others have academic, monetary, or more personal reasons. Once in play, characters use the circumstances and setting to achieve their goals and realize their ambitions. Some characters may become soldiers for the church, joining the Vigilant Order of Templars, while others may be on errand from a power within the nobility to wrest political control of the city away from the Emperor's appointees and gain the advantage of administrating the most important political upset in near history that the Miracle represents.

How to be a player
Being a player in Gothic is a two step process. Firstly, you should contact the game staff and let us know you'd like to play, and secondly create a character using the Character Creation system and submit it to us for play entry. It is not impossible to show up to game unannounced and expect to play, and regardless of anything else, new players are always welcome and encouraged, but for the sake of a smooth entry, it is best to submit your character to us ahead of time so that when you arrive all logistical issues and questions can be taken care of ahead of time. That way you can spend more time playing and less time at Logistics talking to staff and asking questions.
For Character Creation, see Chapter 3.

How to be an NPC
Being an Non-Player Character, part of the supporting cast of game, is an important part of the interplay that helps the game produce conflict and interesting interactions. By the nature of the game, without volunteers to portray the roles of world characters, creatures of the night, bands of brigands, and other such features, the game could simply not function at it's best, so every single player is encouraged to NPC for at least part of the game.

Some specific tasks, such as the production of in-game goods, take time to complete, and these opportunities are a great time to volunteer to play an NPC for the staff, or just when you find yourself with some downtime while you wait for something else to complete or happen. Playing an NPC is a great way to try out new kinds of character abilities, new personalities, and to help the game be its best.

Furthermore, each hour playing an NPC is awarded with Glory, discussed here, and if you come for the game weekend and only provide support as NPCs, you play for no charge.