Scion: Taking It to the Titans
|Strength ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||Charisma ● ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||Perception ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
|Epic Att: □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □||Epic Att: ■ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □||Epic Att: □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □|
|Dexterity ● ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||Manipulation ● ● ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||Intelligence ● ● ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
|Epic Att: ■ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □||Epic Att: ■ ■ ■ ■ □ □ □ □ □ □||Epic Att: ■ ■ ■ ■ □ □ □ □ □ □|
|Stamina ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||Appearance ● ● ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||Wits ● ● ● ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
|Epic Att: ■ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □||Epic Att: ■ ■ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □||Epic Att: □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □ □|
|■Academics ● ● ● ● ○||□Craft (Cooking) ● ○ ○ ○ ○||□Melee ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
|□Animal Ken ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Craft ______ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Occult ● ● ○ ○ ○|
|□Art ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Craft ______ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Politics ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
|□______________ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Empathy ● ● ● ○ ○||□Presence ● ● ○ ○ ○|
|■Athletics ● ○ ○ ○ ○||■Fortitude ● ● ○ ○ ○||■Science (Computers) ● ● ● ○ ○|
|■Awareness ● ○ ○ ○ ○||□Integrity ● ● ● ○ ○||■Science (Torture) ● ○ ○ ○ ○|
|□Brawl ● ○ ○ ○ ○||□Investigation ● ○ ○ ○ ○||□______________ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
|■Command ● ● ● ○ ○||□Larceny ● ● ● ○ ○||□Stealth ● ○ ○ ○ ○|
|□Control (Car) ● ○ ○ ○ ○||□Marksmanship ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Survival ● ○ ○ ○ ○|
|□Control (______) ○ ○ ○ ○ ○||□Medicine ● ○ ○ ○ ○||□Thrown ○ ○ ○ ○ ○|
Madirakshi speaks the following languages (in the order she learned them):
Since leaving the village in India where she grew up, Maddie has given free reign to her formerly more suppressed whims and desires. What follows is a brief list of her hobbies and personality deficiencies (note that, in many cases, one item may count toward both categories):
Larceny and shoplifting
Smoking cigarettes and expensive cigars
Translating classical literature
The Basics of the Villain’s Journey:
While I do not entirely agree with the terminology used (especially since Madirakshi does not view herself as a villain), here are my answers to the Storyteller’s requests. These are rough ideas and may be subject to change before we actually play the first session with these characters.
Inadequate life: Madirakshi felt for most of her life that things simply were not fair. She knew she was a beautiful and smart young woman, smarter than the grandmother who always told Madirakshi what a disappointment she was.
Madirakshi’s grandmother was always just shy of being verbally abusive, and Madirakshi and her grandmother were always just on the cusp of starving to death and becoming homeless. She spent many nights cold and hungry, having no wood for a fire and no food for dinner.
After learning of her parentage, all of these things have only served to make Madirakshi more bitter and more resolved to have the things she deserves and desires.
Need for Vindication: After her village tried to burn her to death and then buried her alive, Madirakshi made the conscious resolution to take what she wanted from those who did not deserve it. Poverty and hunger were for the weak, and Madirakshi was never going to be weak again.
The Plan: Madirakshi’s plan is essentially to get what she wants by any means necessary. Often she will use her appearance and her body as a tool to this end. The trouble for her is deciding what she wants. After listening to Ganesha talk of the Balance between the Divine and the Titans, Madirakshi suspects that the Gods have ruled long enough and that perhaps it is time that the Titans had a turn. After all, it only seems fair.
The Deception: Madirakshi truly does not see herself as a villain. From what Ganesha told her of the Divine War, she has developed the opinion that the gods are turning this into a Children’s Crusade. She is not simply posing as a hero, she feels she is a hero. In her opinion it would be much better if the cycle stopped, if the ashes of the end of the world simply did not stir when the world finished burning.
The Great Sin: Madirakshi has committed at least one murder, the murder of her mother’s mother and on the way out of the small village of Alatam she set fire to several small homes as she passed in the night, heading to the city of Hyderabad. She does not know and does not care if any lives were lost in those fires, but the thought makes her smile just slightly.
Madirakshi’s plan for the future, ultimately, will involve gaining the sympathies of those with powers greater than her own – or in plainer terms, she hopes to seduce hero, demigod, and beyond into sympathizing with her cause. Those who refuse, well… she’s pretty sure she knows a guy who’d like to talk to those unlucky bastards.
Most recent update denotes Madirakshi’s progression to Demigod, and some additional adventuring. She has 1 experience remaining.
Ganesha told me himself that he did not want a daughter. He had wanted a son. He should have gone to the trouble of being sure he would have a son. Ganesha told me, in so many words, that I was a disappointment.
My grandmother told me the same thing, too. Repeatedly and explicitly.
“Why aren’t you smarter, Madirakshi? Girls of your caste cannot get by on looks alone. No raja will come sweep you away to a castle.” But I was smart. I was at the top of my class in the schools in Hyderabad. I studied hard and learned many languages and still it was not good enough.
“Why are you so cruel, Madirakshi? You should be more like your mother. She was such a sweet girl. Sweet and kind. Not like you, Madirakshi.” I never understood why she called me cruel. I saw iniquities and pointed them out. It was not my fault that her favorite merchant had the intellect of a poppadum.
And before she died: “Why are you even alive, Madirakshi? I wish you had died instead of your mother. You killed her, you know. Just by coming into this world. I wish you had died instead.
I do not want to see your tears.”
That was the last thing my grandmother said to me. She did not wish to see my tears, so I took away her eyes.
The villagers hated me for it. They had loved my grandmother, just as they had loved my mother, before she came to be carrying me.
The villagers had called my mother a liar.
“Amrita,” they had tsked. “You are sweet and you are kind but you are also quite naive. That cannot have been Ganesha who laid with you by the river, for the gods have more important things to do than ask a sweet, silly girl for a child.”
But my mother was adamant. Ganesha had heard her prayers and her devotion, he had visited her and told her she would be important. He had seen it, as he had seen their child, standing triumphant atop the world. So my mother had told the villagers, over and over. In her final month of pregnancy they tired of her story and had beaten her for her insolence and her blasphemy. My grandmother said when she found my mother, my mother wept for Ganesha still.
The pregnancy had been difficult for my mother as it was. Her body was weak and she worked too hard and I was a burden to her before I was ever born, my grandmother said.
Then, my grandmother said, when my mother was beaten I decided to come into the world and put her out of her misery. My mother’s wounds were too severe and only one of us survived. My grandmother told me that the choice of the gods was unfathomable to her. She missed her daughter and I was a poor replacement.
My grandmother was not cruel. That is what she would tell you and for a long time I believed her. Life was just hard in Alatam. Her husband had died when my mother was young, and my mother then was all she had left. I was but a shadow of a shadow of the things she had lost.
I did not hate my grandmother, either. Not at first. Not until Ganesha visited me when I was seventeen and explained to me the truth of the world. I had known he would come. I had dreamed of it. I had known what he would tell me, too.
My mother had not lied. She had told the truth and the followers of a god, the god whose child she had birthed, had beaten her for it. It was not fair.
I asked Ganesha what he would have me do.
Nothing, he said. Nothing at all. I was not the child he wanted. His vision had been wrong and I was to take care of my grandmother and that was all.
She needed my care, Ganesha said. My grandmother had become old and frail from caring for me for years in the poor village of Alatam. Ganesha had told me to be kind to her, and it was the kindest thing I could think to do to let her move on from taking care of me. I wanted to let her go, to set her free. And Ganesha had given me a gift, the power to talk to the Earth, and so one day after Ganesha visited me while my grandmother was washing our clothes in the Krishna River, I asked the rocks to help my grandmother lay down.
Her back was broken but she did not die. Instead she became as a child, helpless and bitter. My dreams scolded me and told me that my skills were to be used on more important things. There was a balance to be struck, there were roles to be played and this old, bitter woman was not yet done with hers.
So I became the worker, only eighteen years of age, and I worked in the sun until my skin burned and my lips chapped. I did not understand why I had to work so hard, it was within my power to take all of those things which I deserved. But Ganesha had given me only one instruction: care for my bitter, disappointed old grandmother. So I worked hard to feed and clothe the old woman who only ever told me how sorry she was that I was alive. One day as I was gathering food for my grandmother a rasping creature, made of hunger and noise, forced itself upon me. I cried to Ganesha for help.
If Ganesha heard me, he did not care.
My grandmother said that, if I was telling the truth, which she doubted I was, that I had been visited by a rakshasa. If I was telling the truth I deserved it, for I had become a wicked child and a bitter disappointment.
I pitied my grandmother in her frailty and her scorn, and one night months later I tried again to help her escape this stage of Samsara, taking her eyes and closing her mouth and nose until her breath stopped and her body stilled.
The villagers did not see my kindness. They called me killer, twice over. They called me a blight on my village and told me the kindest thing I could do now was to die – to leave them in peace. They tied me to my grandmother’s pyre and left me in the night to burn with her.
But I did not burn.
Terrified when they found me the next morning, they buried me, screaming and wailing to any god who would listen. If any god heard me, they did not care. The villagers thought the earth would suffocate me.
But I did not suffocate.
I waited some time, I do not know how long. But I was dirty and I was thirsty when I dug my way out of the grave they had made me. I stood beneath the open sky and a bright moon and made a promise to any ears that listened: I was going to take what I deserved, I was going to have all that I desired, and Ganesha was going to be sorry for ever doubting I was the child from his vision.