So it was no surprise that when the sea monster rose from the waves when she was nine and smashed their fishing boat, she was angry. So angry in fact that after the tentacled monster had eaten her father, her mother, her fat little brother, she had swum toward its gaping, beaked maw and thrown herself in, not to drown, but to choke the beast from the inside.

It could not swallow such a bitter, horrible little pill. It flailed and begged for mercy from the gods. Luna looked down from her place in the sky and laughed at the enormous monster, crying because it could not dislodge the screaming child from its throat. She took pity, of sorts, and sent a flicker of her light down into the child.

New strength filled Sepia's limbs. Her fingers curled into claws, and she tore her way free of the monster, born into the sea on a tide of black blood. The monster, still crying, fled into the night in a swirl of bubbles and ink.

Luna lifted her from the waves, stroked her blood matted hair away from her face. Where the Goddess touched her, the hair fell away to be replaced with thick purple tentacles, a mark she would later wear in all her forms. Luna told her that she was a good girl, and strong, and fast, and amusing, and would be a match for any monster.

She pressed a kiss onto Sepia's forehead, leaving a silvery circle, and tipped her backward into the waves.

Sepia spent a year in the sea before finding her way back to land, joining up with a group of her own kind. As ever changing as the sea her body may be, but she is still a little girl, craving candy and approval and sometimes... sometimes getting blinding angry.

Then the monsters cry out for mercy. And she does not give it.

Stats: (Exalted system. All "bubble" stats left off for brevity)

Caste: Full Moon Lunar

Totem: Octopus

Anima Banner: A swirl of rushing bubbles and a slinking dark cloud of ink

Normal appearance: Girl of eleven, usually wearing tattered, filthy clothing. Her skin is olive, and where her hair should be she has a crown of wrist-thick tentacles, always curling and moving. Nobody notices this, a little trick of Luna's. She also is marked with silvery tattoos reminiscent of the spots on a blue ringed octopus, a gift of her Mentor.

Forms:
* Human girl, age 11 (true form)
* Blue Ringed Octopus (true form)
* Horrible Octopoid Monster Of Hideousness With The Razor Suckers and the Hurting (Warform. Eight tentacles burst from her lower back and lift her into the air, her skin turns whitish purple with blue ringed spots, her eyes cloud over orange with a v shaped pupil Each tentacle is covered with razor edged suckers, and she exudes poison. Not the time to go in for a hug.)
* Small shaggy white and brown puppy (One floppy ear, snub tail, answers to "Plip." This one you can hug.)
* Human boy, age 7 (A child beaten by his father, who she could not save.)
* Human male, age 34 (His father, whom she showed no mercy)
* Human girl, age 5 (apprentice goose girl)
* Omen Dog (The kind of thing you'd ask to "fetch the Trachea!")
* Bull Sea Lion (Now with extra fish reek!)
* The Ever Stealthy Goat!

EDDY SAYS - "Oh, Exalted. The only game in which a were-octopus has a goat form, and it makes perfect sense. Best line: 'Not the time to go in for a hug.'"

FRED SAYS - "Ahem. "Horrible Octopoid Monster Of Hideousness With The Razor Suckers and the Hurting." Thank you, good night!"

MATT SAYS - "This character seems like she'd be a blast to play. Full of challenges and quirks to keep things interesting."

It drew the attention only of the cyber-security community at first; but eventually, Eb/N0 became a meme unto itself, meant to represent the emergent intelligence of a complex global digital information network -- a glib piece of online culture that people began to adopt intentionally in their email signatures, their MMORPG characters, their custom-designed T-shirts.

Russel Poole. A giant in computer engineering and futurist thought. Diagnosed with Alzheimer's at age 67 (ref. 0045b). No family. We suspect his radical, off-the-grid experiments in the digitization of human consciousness were triggered by this diagnosis. By all accounts, these experiments failed. Poole died of massive organ failure three years ago.

His unpublished writing points to Poole's obsession with Eb/N0 meme. A final marginal note: Made contact w/ Eb/N0.

SUSPECTED

The Eb/N0 meme represented the stirrings of awareness of a new entity, an emergent intelligence born in the vast ocean of human knowledge, communication, and culture that the Internet comprised. It was nascent info-life, making first uncertain contact with the chaos that spawned it.

Poole at some point discovered the true nature of the Eb/N0 meme. Or rather, the living meme found him. Poole wanted immortality; Eb/N0 meme, an amalgam of human knowledge, needed a template for individual subjectivity. And so Poole merged with the living Eb/N0 meme, and together became the Signal.

SITREP

The entity known as Eb/N0, or the Signal as it has come to be called, is truly a ghost in the machine. It appears here and there as an indistinct human image, like a digital projection. Always near some source of electrical transmission, always in conjunction with a crisis. Reports of solitary people collapsing in their apartments, choking to death perhaps, being visited by a holographic human image. Paramedics serendipitously summoned by no one. An angel of death, bloggers proclaim. Terrorists' cellphone-triggered bombs consistently failing to detonate. Surveillance video cameras automatically tracking perpetrators in a crowd. Research emailed to policemen and intelligence agents, complete with summaries connecting impossibly complex data points.

In other words, justice. Digitally signed by The Signal.

Power Level: 12; Power Points Spent: 195/195

STR: +0 (-), DEX: +0 (-), CON: +0 (-), INT: +17 (44), WIS: +4 (18), CHA: +1 (12)

Tough: +0, Fort: Immune, Ref: Immobile, Will: Immune

Skills: Computers 16 (+33), Concentration 16 (+20), Craft (electronic) 4 (+21), Diplomacy 4 (+5), Disable Device 16 (+33), Gather Information 16 (+17), Investigate 4 (+21), Knowledge (technology) 16 (+33), Notice 4 (+8)

Feats: Connected, Contacts, Eidetic Memory, Inventor, Jack-of-All-Trades, Master Plan, Speed of Thought, Well-Informed

Powers:
Being of Pure Data (Insubstantial 4); Crowd Sourcing (Mind Reading 12): Going Viral (Mind Control 12); Avatar (Illusion 12); Tech Immunity; Will Immunity; Fort Immunity; Interface (Comprehend 3); Multitask (Mental Quickness 12); Omniglot (Comprehend 2); Self-Repairing (Regeneration 19); Spyware (Linked): Clairaudience 9, Clairvoyance 9.

Attack Bonus: +0
Defense: +0
Initiative: +17
Drawbacks: Weakness, uncommon, major, EMPs +5

EDDY SAYS - "This character reminds me a bit of the Marvel 2099 line, in a good way. Still confused as to why a combination man/AI have a +1 Charisma. This is probably the best time to make Charisma a dump stat."

FRED SAYS - "I always knew the memes were going to get us. You can't trust them, with their painted faces and wordless ways. Wait, that's a mime? Nevermind then."

MATT SAYS - "A great use of modern technology to inspire a new character concept. The Signal could be difficult to play in a group or team game, but that could be part of the character's appeal when it attempts to reconnect with other humans."

Spirit d4
Strength d12
Vigor d6

Skills:
Fighting d10
Stealth d8
Swimming d4
Throwing d6
Notice d4
Streetwise d4
Taunt d4
Climbing d4

Pace 6
Parry 6
Toughness 5
Charisma -5
XP 11

Hindrances: One Eye, Quirk (hates horses), Ugly

Edges: Infravision, First Strike, Sweep, Trademark weapon (great axe)

Biography:

They say it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye, but Gyth never had much fun even before he lost the eye. When you're a horse-hating half-orc with a face like pounded sand, most of your "fun" involves standing between yet another fat merchant and the bandits trying to peg him with arrows. Gyth slept frequently on the ground, the merchants paid nearly nothing, and their horses bit and kicked and mocked Gyth when his back was turned. After one bandit's arrow found Gyth's eye, he'd had enough.

During his watch, Gyth helped himself to a bag of gold, killed the merchant's horses -- partly to keep the other guards from following him, but mostly because they had it coming -- and set out for parts unknown. He made it 20 miles before they caught him, beat him, and sold him to an Imperial Army Captain who was just shy of his monthly conscription quota.

It was the best thing that ever happened to Gyth.

The Army gave him a big sharp axe, fed him a lot, and gave him a weekly gold piece. All he had to do was say, "Sir, yes, sir" regularly and bury his axe in the odd goblin's skull. The more he followed orders and volunteered for axe-burying duty, the more gold he received and the more he was allowed to boss around the troublemaker conscripts.

Gyth realized that he got along in the Army so well because they both shared the same simple "Four Categories" philosophy about life, i.e.:

Everyone falls into one of four categories:

1. Attacking you
2. Not following your orders
3. Dead
4. Everyone else

Whenever Gyth met someone in categories 1 or 2, both of which he disliked equally, he would use his great axe to move them to category 3 or 4, both which he liked greatly and also equally.

Gyth soon made corporal, then sergeant. There are fewer goblin skulls and more ogre and troll skulls in his axe's path these days, but there are still plenty of troublemakers in his unit. Just another few missions and Gyth will have another bag of gold -- one that he earned instead of pilfered -- and then he'll be able to buy all the horses his axe can eat.

EDDY SAYS - "He hates horses... we get it. Of course, most fantasy armies have horses, and that is mysteriously unaddressed. Still, a nice spin on the typical mindless half-orc -- I could see having fun with him at the table."

FRED SAYS - "Gyth belongs in the Black Company."

MATT SAYS - "This character is slightly limited to the military action focused stories, but I'm sure the player could find plenty of reasons to head off duty for a quest."

"The rumors are all bunk, though. Real nice guy. Comes from a family of witchy types. Not Wizards, not the ones with the capital 'W' anyhow, just the sort of folk who sorta hang around the edges of that world. His gran was some sort of seer, his dad talked to ghosts. He's got a little sister that is entirely too good at finding people. Really spooky stuff, some of it. I guess his family has some connection with one of the mafia families in Detroit, he doesn't talk about it much, but you can see where the type of gifts his family has would be really handy in that business. Mike is the ugly duckling of the family, though. Can't see the future or talk to spirits, nothing like that. No, Mike makes fire. Talks to it. Makes it dance. Makes it hunt.

"Mike saved my life back in the 80s, when the Black Court tried to push into Corktown. He was a pretty fair scrapper back then, and those jumped-up zombies didn't take well to a guy built like a linebacker who could set himself on fire. Or burn down whatever building they happened to hole up in. That whole mess is most of why he's in so deep with the White Court. He made a whole mess of enemies back then, actually, not just the the Black Court, and the White Court is shielding him from the fallout, in exchange for God knows what.

"He's put on some weight over the years, lost a bit of muscle too, but he's gained a load of power and contacts since then in trade. If you need to find someone or something in Detroit, he can do that. If you need to hide, he can do that too. And if you just need a hand, he's probably still up for it, if the cause is right."

Michael Tessitore, stats for The Dresden Files Roleplaying Game

High Concept: Pyromancer by Night

Trouble: Hiding from Vampires, behind other Vampires.

Other Aspects: Never Met a Food I Didn't Like | I Loathe the Undead | Was a Very Angry Young Man | Can't Look the Other Way | Hopeless Romantic Without Hope

Stress-
Physical: 000
Mental: 0000
Social: 000

Skills-
Great: Lore, Contacts
Good: Discipline, Conviction
Fair: Endurance, Fists, Resources, Investigation
Average: Might, Empathy, Presence, Intimidation, Deceit

Stunts and Powers-
Channeling [Fire], Ritual [Pyromancy], The Sight, Wrestler, I Know Just the Guy

Availible Refresh: 2 (After one Major milestone)

EDDY SAYS - "Michael Tessitore: I really like the conceit of a different (unknown) character talking about Mike for the background. This guy feels real to me, and I can absolutely see him in a Dresden Files game."

FRED SAYS - "Naturally I'm a sucker for a Dresden Files character, but the bit where the person telling us about the character is another character in the setting? Well done indeed."

MATT SAYS - "A character like this could make a lot of enemies really fast. It does mention he has a thing with vampires, so that is an easy story hook. How does he do against the other supernaturals of the Dresdenverse?"

"I'm the hinge guy. Everything revolves around me."
A smile that's dangerous at ten paces
"Who says it can't be done?"
"Stick with me, man, I know what I'm doing."
"Don't tell me about pain. Nothin' more I need to know."
One day I'm going back to the Sprawl. Just to show 'em all that 'ole George has made it.
"I've got an idea!"

Skill Tree
Level 5: Charm
Level 4: Oratory / Profession: Rock Miner
Level 3: Culture: Criminal / Survival / Knowledge: Hostile Environments
Level 2: Culture: The Sprawl / Alertness / Demolitions / Brawling
Level 1: ZeroG / EVA / Stamina / Agility / Repair

Stunts
Owns something: Dazzling, all aspect, multi-spectral Sunglasses
Contacts: The Skunk (Luna) -- Knows people who know people, all of 'em bad.
Gonna make ya' all rich! (Followers -- if charmed - willing to work for nothing for up to a fortnight)

Stress Tracks
Health: OOO
Composure: OOOO
Assets: OOO

Bio

Nine parts get up and go, one part talent. Crazy George. Aspirational crazy. Glances at the mirror and all he sees is the big Kahuna.

George knows the secret. Mirrors never lie.

Sure they don't. Nobody's got the heart to tell him otherwise.

Stare down the sun shades and dyed blonde hair. Low-g body gone to flab. Big smile.

Kept smiling even as that methane crab locked down on his calf. Chewed right through the flesh. Acid etched its way through the bone work. 'Ole George couldn't stop grinning.

"Bio-Mech leg, huh? Girls all want to see."

That's George for you. Optimistic to a fault. When you come of age in the Vegas sprawl, Earthside, attitude is all that keeps you going. Sure as heck ain't nothing else working in your favour.

Serious moon time after that with Horizon Industries up on Titan. Young George a wannabe rock-miner doing hard yards as a dogger for the deep drill crews.

Five year locked-in contract, muscle tone shot to h*ll and it's see ya' later alligator.

George, you see, had a vision. His future. Working for the man. Dying the prolonged, air-sucking death known only to those with their guts ripped open. Or those destined for a lifetime of paid drudgery.

George made the call. Not for him, no sir! Jumps the fast track. Digs his pudgy fingernails in and hangs on tight.

Hits the Reserve bank on Luna. Nobody told George about the floor alarms. Drilled straight up through the sensor grid. Bagged and tagged before he realised what he'd done.

Last heard off sweating blood down in the Meat Chamber. Word is once you're down there you ain't coming out.

Then what do you know? Here comes George. Gimpy leg, wrap around shades and a smile wider than the comet tail that whacked Mars. Hitting on me for credits. Pushing my buttons in his, "Man, we can do anything, you and I," get-rich-quick-or-die-trying way.

But that's George for you. Aiming for the Titanium-plated Lear ship. Doomed to never make it. On a downhill trajectory to the nearest rat-infested slag heap.

Smiling all the way. In George's own words -- "Hey man, I'm a Player."

EDDY SAYS - "The whole character feels right out of a Walter Jon Williams novel. "The Left Leg of Power" is the best FATE Aspect I've ever seen. Very, very cool."

FRED SAYS - "Oof! This guy's gonna get himself hurt at every turn. He'll make the bad choices and he'll keep the game pumping forward, barrelling around like a mean drunk with a goofy grin. I am so there."

MATT SAYS - "This is a character that will get the entire group in trouble for some crazy scheme he just thought up. Thing is, he might be the one that smooth talks them out of it again later."