Editing Campaign:Era of Dreams/Intrepid Rook (section)

== Basics ==
'''Name:''' Intrepid Rook<br/>
'''Concept:''' Transhumanist Weaponsmith and Industrialist<br/>
'''Caste:''' Twilight<br/>
'''Motivation:''' "Build a better Humanity, starting with myself."<br/>
'''Intimacies:''' Safeguarding Humanity, Optimum Physical Efficiency, Her Dignity<br/>
'''Experience:''' 10/10<br/>
'''Combo Experience:''' 19/30<br/>

=== Background ===
In the deepest South, there was once a metropolis-oasis known as the Provenance of Daana'd, planted at the base of seemingly the most powerful Water demesne in the region. Prosperity flowed along with the fresh rivers from the mountain's tallest peak, eventually drawing every capable member of the populace into employment operating the city's thriving agriculture, or the vast network of machines inside the mountain's core that fed them. They knew of their Solar lord, but never saw him save a giant projection of his image in the city square, which would materialize to announce working hours, meal times, and other daily rituals from on high. These pronouncements were so regular and unchanging that steadily the projection was dubbed the Clockwork King in his absence, more of an active ruler in spirit than he had been in person.<br/>
Rising through the stations from a humble technician's daughter to a minor intern within the reservoir-temple Manse, Rook grew up surrounded by peace and a lazy, but necessary, work routine. Even holidays and recreation were formalized to an extent that many citizens simply drifted from one place to another, reading or listening to glyph readers half-awake, as only attendance was mandated. Life was unrushed, with no sense of urgency.<br/>
And then one day the temple Manse began to rumble, culminating with a shaft of green fire that exploded from the mountainside. Many citizens stood agape waiting for the Clockwork King to issue an order, but none ever came, even as the mountain Manse shuddered violently once more. Within the Manse was total chaos, as the massive jade and crystal machinery rocked and strained, trying to free itself from it's cables and mountings even as it tore apart the facilities around it. Rook was unlucky enough to be within the control room as a great demon fist ripped it's way from inside the primary power tank, followed by another and then yet another. She hammered away at the failsafe keys, but all of them had been damaged or powered down in the aftermath. Wrenching open a panel, Rook surged with golden light as she snapped her own glyph reader in half and stabbed it into her arm, plugging it directly to the Manse essence systems. Suddenly in a flash of sparks, she stood before all of the populace of the city as the Clockwork King, directing a mass evacuation as the Manse melted down around her. She had only time to feel an inhuman hand tighten around her neck before everything around her vaporized.<br/>
By the time she awoke, Deliberative Disaster Control was already on the scene, cordoning off the smoothed glass rubble that remained. As survivors were being prepared for relocation, she was quietly bundled off for delivery to Meru, chunks of glyph reader still embedded in her forearm and nursing a profound sense of loss.<br/>

=== Appearance ===
At one time Intrepid Rook was a somewhat unremarkable girl, fighting a never-ending battle to keep her work suit pressed and dull brown hair out of her face. Apple-cheeked but not exactly chubby, mouthy but not particularly clever, dutiful and formal but never enough to stand out from her peers. Mere months after her 126th birthday the "revisions to her standard template," as she cheekily refers to them, are as numerous as they are outlandish.<br/>
Her frame is now tall and statuesque by design, to support her ever-changing number of alterations, from sharpened talons to flexing crystal plates with gears and belts whirring where muscles should be. These addons rotate into and out of her daily routine according to a plan and schedule only she is aware of; sometimes arranging an "ensemble" for a particular day, other times full armaments staying on until they prove themselves worthwhile or  bore her with consistency. Rook even attended the celebration of her 99th clad only in a variety of snake skins, not as a dress but shedding them throughout the evening. These days she keeps her public appearances far more practical to avoid an unwanted exhibitionist reputation.<br/>
Yet the one concession to her old life is her face, which has stayed largely unchanged for over a century. No longer quite as apple-cheeked as she once was, Rook's hair still occasionally falls into her clicking clockwork eyes, glasses still perched on her nose though she hasn't required them in decades. She favors sleeveless laboratory smocks and skirts whenever she is out and about, keeping her limbs unrestrained for using her many implanted gifts whenever possible.<br/>