Editing Campaign:Acts of Villainy/Chain (section)

== Basics ==
*'''Campaign:''' [[Campaign:Acts of Villainy|AoV]]
*'''Name:''' Chain of Creation's Freedom  
*'''Concept:''' Defiler control freak
*'''Caste:''' Defiler/Cecylene favored
*'''Motivation:''' Destroy the anomalies inhibiting Creation's perfect machine
*'''Positive intimacies:'''
*'''Negative intimacies:'''
*'''Anima:''' Burning white ethereal shackles that envelop and bind Chain's body, seeming to float and move of their own accord. 
*'''Experience:''' 19/200

=== Background ===
A Lookshyan scholar and mechanic, Chain was, in her own words, a true genius. Every weapon, machine, and apparatus that she designed was a historic advancement in Lookshyan society, blueprint after blueprint of brilliant contraption guaranteed to reshape the very foundation of life within the city. Hours were spent laboring over grand plans for fantastic inventions. Coin after coin was spent hiring labor crews to realize her ideas, turning levers, fitting cogs, pressing buttons...

And the day finally came for everything to fall out of place. Joints moved backwards. Wheels spun in the wrong direction. Ballistae wouldn't fire right. Cogs jammed. Nothing worked. 

Nothing ''ever'' worked. 

But why? The plans were perfect. Every equation was correct. Every application was practical. Efficient. Perfect. Instructions were crystal clear, model after theoretical model reproduced desired effect. What could possibly have been wrong? The design? The foundation? 

It was deep at midnight within Chain's study when an ethereal white cloud came to her, speaking in strange, almost alien, yet perfectly logical terms. Error was not in the design. Nor was error in the creator. Error was in Creation: The laborers who were too stupid to understand simple terms, the bureaucrats unable to provide sufficient funding. Errors could be fixed. And tools would be provided to fix the errors, so long as the greatest error of all could also be fixed...

Chain took up the exaltation of the Defilers. She was led through the great desert of Cecelyne. She was walked through the parades among her fellow Infernals, and she was instructed in the purpose of the Reclamation and the ultimate flaw of Creation itself: The existence of free will.

As one of the intellectually-gifted Defilers, Chain has been anxious, but far from idle or bored during the subtler motions of the Reclamation. The technician has designed and built horror after horror of helltech, from weapons, to personal prosthetics, to tools that simply make common, everyday practices of life within Malfeas more platable. All preparations have been in motion for decades, plan after plan has been carefully constructed to repair Creation, demonic armies have been forged the armaments that they will use to cleanse Creation. Chain has even undergone alterations to her very own body and mind, careful acts of desecration to steel her mind against sensation and emotion, self-made prosthetics to enhance her own imperfections. 

The time finally came when the Ebon Dragon spoke, announcing that the plans were finally in full motion. Chain cast a calculating gaze over her several models of Creation, consider the various tumors and errors that plagued its people and landscape, the fundamental flaws of design that needed to be reconciled. It was time to set the ultimate project in motion.

It was time to repair the world itself. 

=== Appearance ===
Chain stands at a fairly-tall 5'10", bearing a carefully-sculpted, hourglass figure, and short, perfectly-straight hair, almost completely black, but with a slight tinge of dark violet. Sharp and intellectual features decorate her face, from her bespectacled appearance to her cold, calculating, almost unsettling gaze. Clinging to her form and trimmed with a ghostly white, a leather dress falls down to her mid-thigh, held tight by a black, leather belt around her waist. Knee-high boots of matching design make her appear even taller than she already is. Despite her beauty, Chain's looks seem to have an almost unsettling, inhuman feel to them - as if her grace and looks were artificial, false imitation.