Male

You are a Sorcerer, born into a carefully maintained Noble House. Your home was a fortification sitting atop a volcano, the power below you channeled into automatic factories, flooding out when the eruptions came. It was carefully controlled...only a dozen serfs died every time. Still, your childhood was spent watching the harsh cycles of Charl: Blasted wasteland would be rapidly covered by amazing greenery, which was frantically harvested and eaten sparingly. Teeming numbers of serfs bowed to you and to your father's Golems.

You were taught how to act around Serfs, around other Nobles, and how the harsh mixture of respect and fear worked in Charl.

And now, on your eighteenth birthday you are to learn how to connect yourself to your Golemn...

You awaken in bed, in a opulent chamber. Out the window, you can see the teeming masses of your family's serfs, working on the monthly harvest. Smoke and brimstone poured from chimney stacks that surrounded your castle...you could see it through your smudged window. You were clad in naught but your loincloth, for it got hot in the castle.

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Mi'lord." The voice of your serving girl, Ezmera. She was a pretty young thing: Pale, with brilliant red hair and full breasts. "Do you want me to bring in your breakfast, or do you need to get dressed first?" She called through the door, not opening it yet.