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Roberts Space Industries ®

Death Jesters / DJESTERS

  • PMC
  • Regular
  • Exploration
    Exploration
  • Smuggling
    Smuggling

The Death Jesters,

Adventurous explorers on the edge of space, hunting and mining for artefacts and rare creatures, trading, researching through science, before smuggling back to the richer parts to barter and trade our finds.

Discord

https://discord.gg/6WDz8MT


History

At the end of the 2nd Tevaren war, a field medic called Aaron Fring watched in awe and horror as the last of the Tevaren Sovereign fleet burnt up over the skies of Kaleeth, the 4th planet of the Elysium system, and the Tevaren home-world.

A small remnant of the Tevaren race made it to their historical homeland, but so ashamed were they by the obliteration of their forces, they started to destroy any heritage and history remaining in their humiliation. A terrible period was called the purge. Often they chose to die in disgrace along with the destruction of their heirlooms, thus dwindling their number further.

So moved was Fring by the desperation of this race to set foot, no matter the cost, upon their home world that he painted the now famous “Tears of Fire” mural in memory of that last fateful flight.

Fring felt drawn to these “scattered embers”, as he called them. A proud, embittered folk, alien to him in so many ways, yet familiar in their plight. Himself an outcast, Fring suffered from a rare skin disease called Kilos’ Malady, which scarred his face and left holes in his left cheek. The same malformity had led to his discharge from his beloved UEE Expeditionary Force on “compassionate grounds” despite his protestations. He felt mirrored in the shame of the Tevaren. He took to wearing a metal mask to cover the disfigurement on his face.

Due to his growing affinity, He often strayed into the Tevaren ruins, which still held some artefacts and a semblance of their history. He took to collecting his treasure as he said it “inspired the artist in him”.

On one such outing, he came across a group of Tevaren families, surviving on little more than the dust of their crumbling temple. In pity, he brought them food and blankets and, in time, earned their trust.

In the worst of conditions imaginable, Fring would care for and tend to their wounds, bringing new life and hope. This stranger and his now growing band of followers. Settlers and rag tags of the human race whom he inspired to be different. Here on the outskirts of society, helping those alien to themselves, the scrapings from the Tevaren barrel.

For many of them, though, it was too late. Fring’s arrival began to be seen as a harbinger of doom, as there was no formal training on the physiology and biology of the Tevaren. Fring learnt by trial and too many errors. Later Frings’s records of the biology of the Tevaren would become compulsory reading amongst physicians of the UEE.

The Tevaren children said that Fring would always seem sad and miserable, so they started to paint and draw vivid colours and shapes on his mask to bring joy to the bleak setting. Although the language of the Tevaren, along with its warrior’s code “the Rijora”, was abandoned after they subjugated themselves under Humanic rule, in these early days, the Tevaren started calling Fring 死の道化師, or Psch’i Gno Dokaascii, “The Jester of Death”.

Fring persistently requested aid from the UEE, who were then under Deacon Messer’s tight rule. Given the ill feeling propagandized throughout the UEE toward the Tevaren, this was always summarily met with cold indifference. Fring’s work became infamous in the UEE upper echelons, and some began calling him a traitor. After the Advocacy’s powers expanded, Fring and his growing group got forced underground, having to hide the surviving Tevaren from inquisitorial eyes.

Fring knew they must leave to preserve any of the Tevaren and their culture he had come to admire. Fring was a decent pilot, having learnt from his father, and with his medical training and contacts in the Expeditionary Force, he started to plan for a way that this shunned group could find a new home. After months of hiding, in desperation, he hailed a passing Banu trader to come to their aid. The Banu were not interested in rendering it. They were very interested in how Fring had come by the many Tevaren artefacts adorning his home.

After bartering his land, home, and the possibility of lost treasure, Fring acquired an ancient Banu Merchantman. In need of repair, a vessel still large enough to house his ragtag group. Adding bits of Tevaren tech and smuggling the best of the artefacts he still had on board, they christened the ship 天使 or Tenn Schii “Heaven’s Messenger”. It was the first time Tevaren and the children of men had worked together towards the future, a future amongst the stars.

The Tears of Fire painting hung like a banner in the foyer of the trade hall. All who entered would remember the last flight of the Tevaren. It stayed there until purchased by an art dealer many years after the death of its creator. Now it hangs in the UPE Historical Vault for Antiquity.

So is the dawning of the Death Jesters.

Manifesto

It is ridiculous that one should claim rule over one-other.

For we all come from something or someone’s Mother.

Amongst vast and colourful worlds our home we call,

There is at least now, enough Space for us all.

We claim no rule, and seek out no title,

for there’s always another play just starting recital.

We explore eagerly, the mansions of God,

a place for ourselves amongst the denizens of Nod.

To some we bring light, yet still to others, a smidgen of death!

Many have paid with their own, and many more pay well… for another’s last breath!

Who are we to judge, we’ll be jovially away,

our pockets lined with magic dust, to barter for something shiny, or for something with which to play,

Well out of reach of that madding crowd,

Who look down their noses with the eyes of the proud.

For what have they to do at all with ours?

Taxing and stealing with their self proclaimed powers.

What we find we keep, or sell, or loose.

Which from these will be our’s, and our’s alone to choose.

Beholden to no-folk less it suits our ends to meet.

From all types we hail, friendly, aloof, or frightening the Elite.

We seek out new globes to edify or defame,

To fly, find, discover and give the nameless a name,

Places never someone before set their feet.

We’ll ad to your venture from the edge of our seat.

To all others we wish well, and aid them in their need,

We help if we can. Water, bed, fuel or feed.

For the needy pay highly when their plight is a grimming.

Let us seek for the Grail, ‘till our cups all are brimming.

Charter

The Death Jesters have played through many MMOs for over 15 years

We are players who became like family, bent on fun and enjoyment above all.

Where the game causes risk to friendships we make both on and offline, then the game will come second.

We don’t accept bullying or singling people out based on characteristics outside their control.

If you like playing with other people and value friendship over the shiny or the screenshot, then you are welcome.

As the name suggests, enjoyment is the core of what we do, a place where we want your personality to shine and you to feel free to be yourself.

I am sure you have all stopped reading by now so I will leave it at that…

In the words of Eddy Murphy…

“The rules are on the refrigerator”