Prime the Younger
Sylvia y Cartula
Cost Characteristic Value Roll Notes
0 STR 10 11- Lift: 100.0kg; HTH: 2d6; END: [1]
24 DEX 18 13- OCV: 6  DCV: 6
16 CON 18 13-
4 BODY 12 11-
3 INT 13 12- PER Roll: 12-
0 EGO 23 14- ECV: 8; Mental Defense: 15
0 PRE 10 11- PRE Attack: 2d6
3 COM 16 12-
2 PD 4/14   Total: 4/14 PD (0/10 rPD)
1 ED 5/15   Total: 5/15 ED (0/10 rED)
12 SPD 4   Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12
0 REC 6   Running: 6" / 12"
2 END 40   Swimming: 2" / 4"
5 STUN 31  
Prime the Younger | Summary
Real Name: Sylvia y Cartula Hair Color: Black
Concept: Mentalist Eye Color: Blue
Affiliation: Golden Age Height & Weight: 5' 0" (1.53 m) / 101 lbs (46.00 kg)
Played By: Jason Bennett Date of Birth: 21 March 1880
Created By: Jason Bennett Place of Birth: Castile, Spain
Cost Powers END
45 Telepathic Powers: Multipower, 45-point reserve
1u 1) Animal Speak: Telepathy 3d6 ( Animal class of minds) (15 Active Points) 1
4u 2) Overload the Brain: Ego Attack 4 1/2d6 (45 Active Points) 4
4u 3) Thought Control: Mind Control 9d6 (45 Active Points) 4
4u 4) Thought Reading: Telepathy 9d6 (45 Active Points) 4
4u 5) Time To Sleep: Minor Transform 4 1/2d6 (Awake Person to Sleeping Person, Waking Up) (45 Active Points) 4
5 The Mental Power of a Twined Sould: Elemental Control, 10-point powers
7 1) I Am Only A Blur: +4 with DCV (20 Active Points); Costs Endurance (-1/2), Psychic (-1/2) 2
5 2) I Can Take the Pain I: Energy Damage Reduction, 25% (10 Active Points)
5 3) I Can Take the Pain II: Physical Damage Reduction, 25% (10 Active Points)
21 4) Our Mind Is Strong: +13 EGO (26 Active Points)
40 5) Thought Location: Mind Scan 9d6 (45 Active Points) 4
5 6) We Protect Each Other: Mental Defense (15 points total) (10 Active Points)
2 Benefit of a Twined Soul: Life Support (Longevity: 400 Years)
5 I Love My Dog: Mind Link , One Specific Mind
20 Protected by Rainbow Magic: Armor (10 PD/10 ED) (30 Active Points); OIF (Magically Enhanced Costume; -1/2)
Cost Talents
3 Absolute Time Sense
1 Always Wears The Perfect Clothing: Custom Talent
Cost Perquisites
20 Followers: Two Followers (75+75); Gregor (Spanish Bulldog) & Cambio de Viento (Black Gyr)
2 Money: Well Off - $200,000 per year
Cost Skills
3 Acrobatics 13-
3 Area Knowledge: New York City 12-
0 Everyman Skills
AK: Castile, Spain 11-
Acting 8-
Climbing 8-
Concealment 8-
Conversation 8-
Deduction 8-
Language: Spanish (idiomatic) (4 Active Points)
PS: (please fill this in) 11-
Paramedics 8-
Persuasion 8-
Shadowing 8-
Stealth 8-
TF: Custom Adder, Small Motorized Ground Vehicles
3 High Society 11-
3 Knowledge Skill: History of Spain 12-
3 Knowledge Skill: Magic 12-
2 Language: English (completely fluent; Two Points of Similarity with Spanish)
2 Language: French (completely fluent; Two Points of Similarity with Spanish)
3 Seduction 11-
3 Tactics 12-
175+ Disadvantages
15 Dependent NPC: Charity Cause of the Month 8- (Normal; Unaware of character's adventuring career/Secret ID)
5 Physical Limitation: Prone to Headaches (Infrequently, Slightly Impairing)
5 Physical Limitation: Unable to Digest Meat (Infrequently, Slightly Impairing)
10 Distinctive Features: Strong Mental Signature (Not Concealable; Noticed and Recognizable; Detectable By Uncommonly-Used Senses)
20 Psychological Limitation: Code Vs. Killing (Common, Total)
15 Psychological Limitation: Methodical Planner (Common, Strong)
10 Psychological Limitation: Older Than She Looks (Common, Moderate)
5 Rivalry: Professional (Other Philanthropic Women; Rival is As Powerful; Seek to Outdo, Embarrass, or Humiliate Rival; Rival Aware of Rivalry)
5 Social Limitation: Older Than She Looks (Occasionally, Minor)
15 Social Limitation: Secret Identity: Sylvia y (Frequently, Major)
15 Social Limitation: Strict Vegetarian (Frequently, Major)
5 Vulnerability: 1 1/2 x STUN Ego Attacks (Uncommon)
Prime the Younger | Points Summary
Characteristics Cost: 72 Base Points: 175
Powers Cost: 177 Disadvantages: 125
Talents Cost: 4 Total Experience: 3
Perks Cost: 22 Spent Experience: 0
Martial Arts Cost: 0 Unspent Experience: 4
Skills Cost: 25 Total Points: 304

September 17, 1890, somewhere in Spain, in the Pyrenees

The chamber was large and impressive. An intricate and beautiful tile mosaic dominated the floor, a swirling mix of blues and green and browns and reds. Complementary, though not matching, patterns covered the walls and ceiling. Any practitioner of the Art would have recognized the patterns as being designed to assist in the practice of the Art. In the far left corner, next to a dais on which sat what could only be a throne, was a large blank screen of crystal. A woman sat on the throne; plain of clothing and feature, she nevertheless exuded both power and confidence. Six men and women dressed in livery stirred restless about the dais, darting quick glances at the woman as if expecting her to speak or act. They displayed a nervous fear quite at odds with her calm demeanor. Large double doors, covered in yet another mosaic pattern stood opposite the dais. All eyes turned to them as they opened and a man came in. Breathless and nearly stumbling in his haste, it was clear from his face that he brought unhappy news.

He came to a halt before the dais. He touched the fingers of his hands to his forehead and briefly inclined his head. Then he looked up at the woman. She spoke first, "What news, Gregor?" Her calm voice had the melodious quality of one used to singing.

"Prime, the assault on our defenses is well underway. The outer protections will fail within a hour. The physical assault will begin then and Maria of the Orange does not think we have the strength to resist." Gregor delivered his dire news with as little emotion as the one called Prime displayed.

She nodded. Dire the news was; unexpected it was not. "Release the Golems and the Protectors both. Send the Seekers beyond the protections to attack what they will. They will be defeated for Kolrath will not have forgotten them. However, they will buy us needed time."

Gregor made the gesture again, "As you say, Prime, so shall it be." His words had a ritual quality. He turned to go but paused and looked back. "I shall not see you again, Prime. It has been an honor to serve you." Finally, emotion cracked his voice a little but he was already moving to the door. And then he was gone.

The Prime stared after Gregor for a moment, thinking how she would miss his calm advice and steady presence. Then she shook her head. I have work to do, she thought. She looked down at her servants and pointed at one of the women. "Is the child ready?"

The woman repeated the gesture Gregor had used but bowed low instead of merely inclining her head, "Yes, Prime. All is in readiness. Will you go now?"

"No, there is still time, still a chance. Go to her. Make sure she is calm, happy. Play with her if need be. I will come when I must. Go now." Her gaze included them all in her commands and without another word all six bowed and left the chamber, using a small door behind the dais. As they left, the Prime gestured at the screen of crystal and spoke a Word. After a moment, an image appeared showing the wall of the mountainside compound. The hundred or so human guards moved restlessly on wall and by the gate, rifles ready. Even as she watched the Golems and Protectors began arriving. The Golems, large creatures constructed of stone and clay were truly impressive. Saul of the Blue had constructed them using his Cabalistic knowledge and they would be hard to destroy. But there were only twenty of them and, for all their size and strength, they moved slowly. The Prime gained more hope from the Protectors. A joint project of Saul and Isabella of the Red, they were smaller, faster, deadlier, but not as hardy. And there were only twelve. However, they had been designed and constructed after Kolrath's expulsion and so should be a surprise. She had great qualms about releasing them, and the Seekers, and had not come to the decision lightly. However, far more was at stake then her personal aversion to the taking of life. In the end, she'd had no real choice.

The Prime spoke other Words and gestured and the image on the screen blurred. When it steadied it now showed the scene beyond the walls. However, the image was fuzzy and indistinct; the attackers' attempt to prevent her scrying. She spoke another Word and then two more, reinforcing her earlier spell. The image cleared, blurred, and then cleared and remained clear. She directed the image with gestures, noting the numbers, types, and disposition of the attackers, knowing Maria was seeing the same image. By her estimate, Kolrath had brought nearly eight hundred men to attack the compound, not counting the sorcerers in his employ--more than enough for the job, she thought. Even as she watched, however, large silver orbs began appearing amongst the attackers. The Seekers had arrived. They flew around, glowing a bright orange as they did. The attackers, obviously forewarned, tried to dive away from the Seekers. Some succeeded but many did not and most of those who did not ceased all movement as soon as the light touched them, not dead, but completely paralyzed. They would remain so for several days. The Prime felt hope swell but even as it did the Seekers began disappearing in puffs of silver smoke and dust. Soon, none were left. As expected, Kolrath had been prepared. Maybe a hundred of the attackers had fallen to the Seekers. Time was all they'd gained.

The Prime sighed. There was but one thing left that she could do and the very thought of it made her cringe. "What must be, must be. More rides upon this than my personal desires." She directed the screen, searching for something very specific. Soon, she found it: a group of what was clearly sorcerers working to bring down the compound's magical defenses. The Prime had anticipated this moment, contemplated, prepared for it, even learned a new spell for it. Now, faced with the moment, she found she still had to force herself to act. She spoke several Words and the screen changed, growing even sharper, clearer. In a moment, the screen became not merely a window but an open door. One of sorcerers looked up, alarm on her face. Her mouth began to move, probably to bring some defense to bear. She was already too late. The Prime spoke her last Word and, bringing her hands together in a cupping gesture, she "tossed" them at the screen. A small ball of flickering orange leapt from her hands and through the screen, which greatly magnified the magic. A ball the size of a man landed at the feet of the woman and a huge explosion sent the group flying in all directions. The woman went nearly straight up and down, landing in the crater caused by the explosion. Both legs were gone and her neck was clearly broken by the fall. Tears began spilling down the Prime's cheeks but she didn't notice them; her duty lay still before her. She spoke the Words which returned the scrying screen to its regular state before the inevitable counter-strike came.

"It is done." Weariness filled her voice. "I have killed and I shall bear it eternally." She stood and, without a backward glance, walked down the stairs and out the same door the servants had used. The tears continued to fall.

In a few moments, she arrived at her destination. She opened the door and entered her private chambers. "Mother!" A streaking blur of red and blue flew into her arms. Prepared for the assault, the Prime gathered her daughter, her only child to her and hugged her fiercely. "Go," she commanded the servants and, gather two with her glance, "Be ready to come when I call." As they left, Sylvia y Cartula squirmed for freedom and the Prime, with a great pang, released her.

"Mother, come, see," the exuberant ten-year old pulled at her mother, dragging her to a table on the far side of the room. On it were scattered the paraphernalia of a child's art, and her accomplishments. Picking one up, she turned to her mother, "See! Isn't it beautiful?" The painting depicted a woodland scene, trees and flowers of every color.

"Yes, Sylvia, it is beautiful, nearly as beautiful as you," The Prime said with a gentle, loving smile. For the next ten minutes Sylvia showed off her art and her mother relished every second, knowing they would be last. Finally, the last of the seconds was gone and duty returned. "Now, Sylvia," her Mother said, putting down the last painting, "come with me. I have to do something." Taking her daughter by the hand, the Prime lead her into another room, a room of calming pastels and bright, cheerful primary colors, all seven colors of the rainbow. A table stood in the center. Gathering Sylvia to her, the Prime sat, "Now, my daughter, I want you to close your eyes. I will sing you a song and you will sleep. I have some work to do that can only be done while you sleep."

"When will I wake, Mother? Will you be there?" Bright eyed and innocent, the love and trust nearly broke the Prime's resolve, but she held true.

"Yes, Sylvia, I will be there. When you wake, I will be with you always. And you will wake soon enough. Now, close your eyes." Sylvia obeyed and her mother began to sing a gentle song full of words Sylvia did not understand. Very soon she slept, never having felt the tears which fell upon her small body. When the spell was finished, the Prime laid her daughter upon the table and removed her clothes. Laying a gentle finger upon her daughter's brow, the Prime traced a sigil and then sang a Word. The sigil glowed red for a moment. She traced another sigil upon the breast and spoke another Word. The sigil glowed orange. Five more times she traced and spoke and five more times the sigils glowed: yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

When it was done, she called for the servants. They came at once. "It is done. Clothe her and go. The way will be closed. If we hold, you will be met at the wagon to return. If not, proceed as instructed. Protect her. Though she has not the gift for the Art, nevertheless she has a gift and a power all her own. Know that you have my complete trust." The two nodded and turned to their task. The Prime looked down at her daughter, bent swiftly and kissed her forehead, and left.

The servants clothed the sleeping child quickly and carefully and then the man, Miguel, took her in his arms and they fled the chambers. The woman, Isabella, lead the way, light shining from a pendant upon chest. Soon they were in a passage cut through the solid rock of the mountain against which the compound was built. They moved quickly, steadily, stopping for only a few brief rests. Two hours later they emerged from the tunnel in a small canyon. Before them stood a loaded wagon and behind them the tunnel closed after them. No one was waiting and they bowed their heads, mourning the loss of home and friends. They did not mourn long; their hope was with them. The child still slept and would until they woke her.

When she woke, she would know both what had happened, and the sacrifice her mother had made. Placing Sylvia into the wagon, Miguel and Isabella, married and of an age to have a ten-year old child, climbed aboard the wagon and began the long road to Madrid.

July 10, 1937, Brunete, Spain

Prime the Younger peered at the gathering below. Beyond the warehouse, the sounds of battle came intermittently, sometimes loud and sometimes soft with distance. A group of Nationalist troops--Call them fascist thugs and be done with it, Daughter.--Hush, Mother. Let me concentrate.>--were gathered around two trucks, their engines idling. Sylvia had known of this little gathering for two days, so this was not her first visit to this warehouse. She had planned meticulously, trying to envision every possibility. She didn't know where she'd heard the phrase ‘chance favors the prepared' but she liked it. As she looked down at Franco's soldiers, Prime ran through her planning, applying it to the actual situation. It wasn't a perfect fit But then, it never is. Sylvia nodded mentally. Her mother was right, of course. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough.

Sylvia checked her internal clock. Sylvia had not inherited any talent for the Art from her mother, the last Prime of the Society of the Rainbow Art, but she had received an absolute time sense (and other things besides). It was time. Gregor should be in position now, Sylvia. I know. I will check. Sylvia reached out with her mind, searching for the familiar mind of her beloved Alano Espanol. She found it instantly. A mixture of love, trust, and excitement flowed back to her and she affirmed her own love and trust. Then she peered through his eyes and saw the seen below from a new perspective, washed of reds and oranges and greens, the blues standing out vividly. Gregor was ready. Next Prime touched Cambio de Viento, her black gyr. A similar exchange of emotion took place and then she looked through his eyes high above the warehouse; all seemed well.

Prime the Younger, dressed in her unmistakable rainbow outfit, stepped off the rafter beam. As she fell, she flipped gracefully in the air. THUD! The sound of her landing on one of the trucks startled all the soldiers but even as they turned to sounds, a large Alano Espanol came bounding and barking through an open door. Gregor's timing was flawless as usual and his barking served to further confuse the soldiers. Faithful, loyal, and dependable. Just like the Gregor he is named for. You did well, Daughter.--Thank you, Mother.

"Shh," Sylvia spoke softly. At the first sound, Gregor stopped barking. "Be at ease. All is well. It is late. Sleep and be comforted." Prime laid her mind upon the group, urging them mentally to sleep. Four succumbed to the mental pressure and slumped to the ground. That left eight. Some began looking around, up. She leapt to the ground and pointed a finger at one. "You are blind, my friend." The man screamed and dropped his weapon, his hands going to his eyes. He wasn't really blind, of course, but he was neutralized for now. One of the others raised his weapon to shoot her but suddenly found himself slammed to the ground as Gregor leapt upon his back. The Spanish bulldog snarled menacingly and several drops of saliva dripped on the man's cheek. His eyes went wide with terror. Suddenly, the reek of urine filled the warehouse.

Prime kept moving, using her mental powers to take out soldier after soldier. Her shape became blurry, indistinct and the soldiers had a hard time deciding where to aim their weapons. They fired at her but always missed. Finally, there were only two left, the one she had blinded and man Gregor had attacked. She set Gregor to guard the former and spoke to the latter, "Gather all the weapons and put them in this truck." She pointed at the one on which she'd landed. When that was finished, she addressed both of them. "Take your companions from here. Leave the trucks."

They looked at each other and then the dry one said, "How? They're all asleep."

"Push them, pull them, drag them, carry them. I don't care. But take them now. I'm going to burn this building to the ground." Her cold, emotionless voice convinced them and, in short order, they had complied. Even as they left, however, Prime checked the trucks. As she had been told, one was filled with ammunition and explosives, the other with fuel and everything was marked with the hated German swastika. Putting the weapons in one, Prime opened and then overturned one of the fuel drums. Fuel began spilling out, soaking first the floor of the truck and then leaking onto the floor of the warehouse. Prime took a Molotov cocktail she had earlier hidden, went to the back door with Gregor, lit the cloth, waited a moment, and then tossed it into the middle of the spreading pool of fuel. It caught instantly, the conflagration spreading with shocking speed.

Prime turned and ran, Gregor at her side, Cambio de Viento above. She moved quickly, her route planned earlier. None too soon she had two building between her and the warehouse because, even as turned the second corner, a huge explosion shook the night as a fireball roared upward, briefly turning night to day. Several explosions followed but Prime never turned and never stopped running. Both Nationalist and Republican troops would soon be converging and a battle would erupt. She would be thus indirectly responsible for the deaths that would result, a thought which troubled her immensely. I know how you feel, Sylvia. But you had no choice. This is a war and you have chosen a side. The right one, I feel. In any event, you do not force the soldiers to fight, to risk their lives, to pull their triggers, throw their grenades. If they did not fight now, tonight, they would fight another time. You cannot be responsible for everything. The use of those supplies would have killed many of your fellow Spaniards, on both sides. You have destroyed weapons of war and saved lives. Be content.--You're right, Mother. I know you're right. It is not easy. That is all. I tire of war, conflict. I'm just plain tired.

Later that night, Sylvia relaxed (as much as she ever relaxed) in a safe house she'd made for herself in Brunete. She sipped a glass of French Merlot and picked over the remains of her dinner. Gregor slept near the door and Cambio de Viento dozed near an open window through which the sounds of the battle for the city came (though muffled by the dark cloth covering it). Only two candles relieved the darkness as Sylvia discussed her future with her mother.

Sylvia, you can't leave. You've done so much good. Spain needs you. If anyone had been able to hear, they would have been struck by the tone of these words, which had clearly been repeated many times.

I know, Mother. But I can't stay much longer. After tonight, Franco's thugs will be after me even more. The Nationalists are going to win this war; fascism will come to Spain, and I can't stop it.

Franco will never find you. You are too skilled, too knowledgeable. Just change your costume and . . .

NO! Miguel and Isabella made it for me, to protect me, and to honor the Society. I won't betray them. If I die for, so be it.

There was a sense of bowing to the inevitable. As you wish, Daughter. Stay in Spain. Your fight, your duty is here.

I know my duty, Mother, and it can be met elsewhere. I will bear a daughter, as many as needed to find one with the talent for the Art. We will teach her and the Society will live again. But I can't stay here. Three times they've tried to trap me. Sooner or later they will succeed. I am not impervious to bullets. Real fear tinged her mental voice.

I remember, Sylvia. Her mother spoke soothingly, comfortingly. She did remember; they both did. With the aid of Gregor and Cambio de Viento, they'd smelled out those traps. Twice they'd trapped the trappers. The third time, the last time, Sylvia had chosen discretion over valor and fled. And suddenly she realized Sylvia could not be moved, could not be talked out of leaving. Not this time. The reed bowed to the wind and survived while the mighty oak was torn from its roots and perished. To America, then? They had discussed this before.

Yes, Mother. There are others there, like me. With powers, abilities. People who stand up for the weak, for what is right. Perhaps I can find them, join them. Like us, perhaps with them the whole will be greater than the sum. Passion filled her mental voice. She wanted this, wanted to form her own society, a society to fight evil, greed, corruption, hate.


Tomorrow. There's a train leaving tomorrow for France. From there, I will take ship to America. I already have the papers. She had prepared for this in advance and Sylvia y Cartula had all the legitimate documentation she need.

What will you do there? You cannot fight crime and evil all day, every day? Pragmatic, as always.

No, I can't. I will use the wealth of the Society to do the kind of good it cannot accomplish here.

The image of a smiling woman filled her head. Excellent, Daughter. Perhaps you will fight evil all day, every day. And her rich, loving laughter filled Sylvia's mind.

Two weeks later, Sylvia y Cartula, with Gregor at her side and Cambio de Viento already flying overhead, arrived in America. She stood upon the dock and surveyed the soaring buildings, the bustling people, the industry and flow of a great city. She took in the furtive glances of petty thieves, the open smiles of honest workers. A smile spread upon her face and she knew that, at last, she had come home. Now, she had to find her family.

Player Name: Jason Bennett

Player E-mail:


Sylvia y Cartula believes very strongly in the sanctity of life and in duty. Even during her time fighting the Nationalists in Spain, she never killed. In fact, she went out of her way on many occasions to avoid injuring even Nationalist soldiers. Her long life has given her a perspective at odds with her youthful appearance, a dichotomy she enjoys (though she avoids giving her true age for the sake of convenience).

Sylvia is a twined soul. Both hers and her mother's inhabit her body and mind. Though Sylvia has total control over that body, she respects and desires her mother's advice and counsel, often pausing to listen. This has given Sylvia an contemplative nature. She has learned to think things through thoroughly, to plan meticulously, and to be prepared for the unexpected. Consequently, she is not easily rattled. In fact, Sylvia sometimes thinks things through too much, thinking when she should be acting.

Both daughter and mother are women of strong will and determination. They do not give way easily and if they feel their position is correct, it is very hard to move them. This leads to some interesting internal discussions.


"Chance favors the prepared. I like to prepare."


Prime has none of her mother's magical ability (though of course she has access to all of her mother's magical knowledge). Instead, she has a wide of array of mental abilities. She can put people to sleep, enter their minds, alter their memories, command their action, hide from them, appear to be another, even appear to be in a different place than she actually is. In addition, she can communicate with animals. In fact, she has formed a strong bond with two in particular, Gregor (an Alano Espanol) and Cambio de Viento (a Spanish black gyr).


Sylvia y Cartula is a strikingly beautiful woman of the classical Castilian mold. Her long raven black hair and warm brown eyes sit in a face doll-like beauty. While not vain, Sylvia enjoys her good looks and works hard to maintain them. She dresses according when not in costume and prefers colors to blacks and whites. In fact, she doesn't own a single piece of white or black clothing, not even her undergarments.

Prime the Younger wears a magically enhanced bodysuit of rainbow hue. In seven alternating strips of color, right to left, it is red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. She wears it out of respect to her parents, Miguel and Isabella. They crafted it with their limited magical ability in homage to the Society of the Rainbow Art. In addition to its striking appearance, it provides limited protection and a partial mask for Prime the Younger.