While roleplay is not required in Acolytes, many of us do enjoy it. Rather than post just "bump," figured I might as well include a rough RP background of the organization.
<Several years ago.... >
When Casso arrived, his meal was waiting on him. He'd had finer cuisine than this simple stew, of course; but at the moment the certainty that his meal was free from poison was more important than its taste.
"It's kind of cold now. You're later than you said you'd be," accused the cook, a young human girl with a rather sullen face. Ignoring her combative tone, a quiet "Feet off the table, Ruse," was Casso's only response. With an audible huff, the girl never-the-less complied.
"Why don't you ever take me with you? It's boring being stuck here all by myself."
The asuran flashed rows of sharp little teeth in an ironic smile as he seated himself across the table from Ruse, but he did not answer. "How far along is your translation of those texts I left?"
"Finished. Hours ago." Pride in her work was evident in the lift of her chin. This, Casso thought, was what made him overlook her abrasiveness and the obvious chip on her shoulder. This was what made her a worthwhile, if unlikely, apprentice. Of course, her almost fanatical devotion to him, engendered when he'd plucked her from the squalor of the streets, didn't hurt.
"Good. Time for other lessons, then. As an Acolyte, to whom do you owe your allegiance?"
Ruse sighed. "C'mon, this again? We've been doing this for mon-"
"Ruse." He interrupted, quietly autocratic. "To whom do we owe our allegiance?" Casso repeated.
The girl made a face, but answered easily by rote."We hold no monarch, no imperator, no council and no gods above our loyalty to our cause."
"And what is our cause?"
"To conquer. To rule all of Tyria." It was not something they often advertised, of course.
Casso paused for a sip of lukewarm ale before continuing to quiz her. "Who may join? Who has the right to fight beneath our phoenix banner?"
"Any who swear fealty. Race, social standing and past deeds mean nothing."
"Why do we plot against the elder dragon Zhaitan and his kin?"
Ruse hesitated. This question was new, though the context of her earlier translations became immediately more clear. This was a facet, a goal of the Acolytes she had hitherto been ignorant of. "To earn the love of the people?" she suggested hesitantly.
Casso shook his head. "A pleasant side effect, possibly, but no. We plot because they stand in our way. Because they would leave us nothing to rule." The asuran's spoon clinked against the side of his bowl as he scooped up the last bits of the now-congealing stew and launched once more into familiar questioning. "And when we are defeated?"
"We do not accept defeat. Rise. Fall. Rise again."