Obumbrata

Obumbrata

https://shreloaded.net/images/5/50/Obumbrata.jpg
Astral PhysAd
Shortblurb
Discord	Scarecrow8532
Reddit	Scarecrow21122
Wiki User	WikiUserName
Metatype	Ork (Metavariant)
Street Cred	0
Notoriety	0
Public Awareness	0
CDP	0
Folder	https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/13-KUs75s7ypvQ4FYXiioC_LOrBtFaJ68
Priority	Metatype - B Attributes - A Magic/Resonance - D Skills - D Resources - D
#Max IGs/Ascension	53
Essence(Current/Max)	6/12

Character Information

Summary

Lean for an Ork, but tightly muscled, Meat meets Mana as Obumbrata strides through the 'plex, gaze drinking in everything, brimming with curiosity. Raised beyond the outskirts, the young Ork is making his mark in the city...and the shadows.

Goals

• Delve the depths of both Astral and waking world for both riddles and reward
• Learn skills for survival and ascension in the shadows
• Support the Orkish community
• Initiate

Background

Amanda Sky Eyes gently lifted the newborn fresh from his mother’s womb. She wiped the afterbirth from the wailing infant and cleaned him up as best she could. She was no nurse, or even midwife, but out here, one sometimes wore many hats.

She gazed down at the mother, whose grey pall was obvious even without Eagle telling her the same – the ghost in this one had fled. Her daughter was dead.

It was to be expected, of course, given the state in which she had arrived. Hands cradling her swollen belly, breathing shallow and skin loose around starved bones, she had come to the last place left, the last place she would have chosen if there were any other choice. And the place from where she had come.

Pushing away the vast story of loss and sorrow, Amanda looked at the child – with both eyes and soul. Eagle’s sight is keen, and deep she delved. Then grunted. Surprisingly, the child’s aura did not hold any of the traumas that had stolen the life of his mother – no pollution of man-made metal – surely even the corps hadn’t gone down that road of madness. Or, at least, they would not have done so with one such as Celie. More mercifully, there were no poisons of vice that so many mothers gave to their babes as bitter life gifts.

For the first time of the day, Amanda Sky Eyes wept…and smiled. She knew Celie had fallen into all the worst vices, and when she appeared yestereve, a quick reading showed all the old ravages, now faded along with all the former vitality. But Eagle gave her this moment of grace, this gift – her daughter, in the end, had fled from the proper enemies, enough so that her then-unborn child was born clean. It was the last thing she would ever do. His aura pulsed with strength.

“The chick shall grow strong if it lives long enough to fly,” her spirit’s voice echoed in her mind, and with what seemed a rustle of wings and vertiginous disorientation. Amanda raised him strong, with one troubling exception: he was prone to fevers and coughs, of chilled bones or wet colds. An inheritance, she was sure, from his mothers dissipated life.

But grow strong he did; fast, and quick and tough…and curious! Amanda Sky Eye was old, especially for an ork; too old for a growing boy. They would go to town and he would play and fight and run with the other children with the boundless energy of youth. Before long, he went on his own while she sat catching her breath and catching up with new acquaintances and old. Ones like her, who had fled the ‘plex, either to find something…or flee it. Faded tattoos and angry scars told unspoken tales, and in this world, you didn’t ask too many questions. Whether they had tusks or pointy ears, were short or hulking, everyone here seemed to have a tale.

It was with one of these, Kimber Bear, who she struck bargain with to teach him. Amanda did not expect to see the boy become a man, or if so, not for long. It was a hard world, doubly so for trog-kin. Kimber had been tough and wild in her youth in the City. She embodied the saying, “an old Ork means a tough Ork.” She taught him well.

At other times, Amanda would summon spirits to watch over the boy; he would laugh and try to play Seek & Hide, or Dead Rat, Two Rat. She wasn’t surprised he could see them, it was obvious he could look into the Other Side. She even coaxed him along. What did surprise her was that she became certain he had the Sight. Often, she would catch him gazing at nothing, standing still, holding some item she had, often from the old days. A favorite talisman, a small chunk of imperfect orichalcum. And once, an earing she had given his mother when she was his age.

Amanda tried to teach him spells, but found that was a path to nowhere. It was easy enough to sense he was adept. She and Eagle would guide him in rituals as they explored the Astral. There was a nasty encounter with a fire elemental - the boy had not learned enough courtesy. Spirits are older than the world and their memory was long.

She expected Eagle to call to him and was surprised it did not. Instead, another found him before – Raven, from the old world, from the land of Winter and Old Tree. It made sense; the boy was ever curious, and Raven tended to collect those kinds.

The years grew heavier on Amanda Sky Eyes. Less and less could she perform the rituals and rites that others came to her for. More and more the boy grew restless. He asked about the ‘plex and others of their kind; an intense curiosity. He had been a quick student of the old tongue, Or’zet. He wanted to know more, yet more, and more still until Amanda felt empty. Eagle crooned to her, calling to her, calling to come fly forever. She did her best to prepare the boy; sold her valued tools and talismans, charms and reagents. The last services she could manage. A battered credstick, a satchel of goods, and a last gathering in the lodge.

I have a friend from the old days, she told him. Then reconsidered, and corrected herself. An acquaintance. We got along. Then we chose different paths. He is a man of great will, fierce determination. He will remember me…or should. He may help you. But be careful; his passions are far different than mine…or yours. He shared a taste for what killed your mother. (The boy scowled) That is a path you should never go. If he gives you work, it will likely be dangerous. He may test you. She did not like the light in the boy’s eyes or the grin curling around his tusks. He can introduce you to people. Kimber can tell you how to get started. And listen to Raven.

Then she bid him to go. Now. While she could still stand it, although she did not say this. He hugged her hard and fierce, and she knew he knew. Then he walked out the door. The rumble of his beat-up Growler started up, and he drove off. Amanda listed, cocking her tired head slightly, hearing Eagle’s croon. She heard a song like the roaring wind and keening cries of the hunter. And then she closed her eyes.

That night, the boy—no, young man - camped on a mesa. He built a fire, tossed in herbs and twigs, and sang a song as the smoke curled in curious manner. Raven listened, but said nothing. The boy knew he needed a new name, and he listened and sang in the Astral, and one finally came. Obumbrata. He smiled. Fitting, he thought. It reminded him of a song in a dead tongue. From the shadow of the ‘plex, to the shadow of the streets. Tomorrow would be a new day.

Narrative Significant Qualities

Positive

Seer - Obumbrata has the Sight. It comes sometimes when he calls for it...and sometimes when he does not.

The Spiritual Way - The young ork embraces the more spiritual nature of his gifts.

Mentor Spirit: Raven - Raven whispers his whispers in Obumbrata's ear, and lends him some of his strength.

Negative

Bad Luck - Obumbrata has learned to stay away from games of chance. Whether it's trickster spirits targeting him for fun, or mishaps arising from his constant distraction, the ork has glumly accepted that Lady Luck will never ask him to dance.

Weak Immune System - Hardy as he has trained himself to be, Obumbrata often gets tackled by unclean air and conditions and most viruses that circulate. A characteristic since he was a young child, his grandmother told him he likely was a relic of his mother's self-destructive habits while she bore him.

Prejudiced: BTL/Drug junkies - Many a time has Obumbrata been reminded of the catastrophic, self-destructive habits that enspelled his mother - causing her the loss of family, associates, a future, and perhaps most important of all - the Gift. He can't help but resent others when he sees them on the same path. He's tactful enough to keep himself, behind a tight grimace or gnashing of tusks. Usually.

Run History

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Affiliations

Contacts

Contact	Connection	Loyalty	Archetype	Profession	Aspects	Chips
Gore Tusk	5	1	Fixer	Fixer	OU Influence, BTL Addict, Street Smarts, Brawler, Underground Navigator, Old School	Even
Bianco Blanco	Contact Not Found. Please create contact using Template:Contact.	1	You may also see User:Free Sprite for bot instructions.			Even

In Character Information

Matrix Search Table

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Shadow Community Table

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Assensing Table

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Character Plot Hooks

Here are characteristics of the character that GMs may take advantage of to add complications to runs, or to otherwise use when in use. If you want to use them in unrelated to runs, please ask first.

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