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Drake

Ghost (former Soldier of War)

 

Corporeal Forces: 1              Strength: 1                             Agility: 3

Ethereal Forces: 2                 Intelligence: 4                       Precision: 4

Celestial Forces: 3                Will: 8                                    Perception: 4

 

Skills: Dodge/6, Driving/3 (ship), Fighting/3, Language (French/3, German/3, Spanish/3), Large Weapon/4 (cutlass), Ranged Weapon/4 (pistol), Tactics/6

 

Songs: Motion (Ethereal/6), Nightmares (Corporeal/3), Shields (Corporeal/2, Ethereal/4, Celestial/3), Storms (All/6), Tongues (Ethereal/6), Water (Celestial/3)

 

Attunements: Howl

 

Focus: Drake's Drum.  The best enchanters that the Sisterhood of the Waves could find have extensively reworked this item over the centuries.  It is by now a corporeal relic/6 and reliquary/6 with the Unbreakable feature and one unique ability: any ghost that uses it as a focus doubles its Celestial Forces for determining how far it may stray from it.

 

 

Can a man love his country more than Heaven itself?

 

Can a man so love his country, his land, his home so that death is no more than an inconvenience?  Can he so fear for his people and his Queen that he can hold on past the roaring silence of his last heartbeat?  Can he 'calmly accept the bursting of his brain' to reach out and hook his soul onto a convenient focus?  Can he accept the eternal pain as a piece of him is left behind?

 

Can a man make a promise and keep it, though Heaven and Hell themselves bar the way?  Can he accept the consequences of choosing his own path over that of Heaven? Can he pledge his future existence to a lonely and endless vigil, dedicated to nothing less than the protection of a land where he could never walk again as a living man?  Can he stand watch after eternal watch, eternally vigilant for signs of the foe, with only an endless succession of quiet mortal guardians for company?  Can he bear to watch them grow old, be translated to their reward and be replaced by their daughters?  Can he stand the agony of loving those he can never touch?

 

And, when war comes, can a man ride the storms?  Can he battle for over two decades, forever pushing here, pulling there, gathering up the wisps of clouds and forging them into a shield through pure will?  Can he dance the winds, constantly interposing that shield to confound the foe, holding them away from the land he protects for just one more day? Can he help save his folk?

 

Can a man do it again, generations later?  Can he defend both the sea and the air, battering strange new ships of the sky, lashing them with rain, confounding them with fog, savagely fighting against an evil almost incomprehensible to his old-fashioned ways?  Can he do all of this, unheralded, unseen, almost unaided?  Can he do all of this without rest or surcease, save for the wild laughter still at call after so many centuries?  Can he help save his folk again?

 

Can a man do all of this and still be prepared to fight at need?  Can he accept the necessity to do this until the Last Trump?  And, most importantly, can he do all of this and stay sane?  Can he do all of this and still stay worthy of the Reward that he has deferred?

 

Yes.

 

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