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Round One The Ayr Ring has always been our home, ever since the fire fell from the skies bringing our ancestors here to these lands. We have clawed back much of what we lost and have started reaching out to our neighbors once more. Rumors of strange creatures coming across the oceans to the west have reached our spies, and our seers speak of oddities and doom on the edge as two of the five of the moons approach alignment. What this means of the future is unclear but we must prepare for the worst, as we and our neighbors wake and expand surely other things may as well. Vigilance is key. Rumors and Events The Myrkran have come to your shores seeking refuge from supposed terrors across the Western Ocean.  The Moons Yølym and Winding Rose are approaching alignment, scholars say this is an unprecedented event and postulate its occurrence at once in hundred-thousand cycles at least. Citizens in outlying areas have begun disappearing under mysterious circumstances, all reports state the missing person talking about being called by the void before being reported missing. Not a single one of them has been seen again.     References and Links Rules Adjustments Clarifications Realm Creation Continents & Regions Region Approval Game Schedule Organizations Region Summary Realm Summary Faith Summary Reputation Summary Technology Summary Altarin Map Taer Mojr Map Quick Reference Guide   BEGIN

"Walk the soil.  Feel the breeze kiss your skin and taste the crisp spring waters.  Hear the rustling grass of the plains and see your next victory on the horizon.  That is what it means to be truly free." — Soyka Tenkiller, Ghost Wolf tribeswoman       After navigating the tracks through the thick prairie pastures for almost an hour, they finally come across a road of sorts, not something that's been marked by the laying of gravel or aggregate perhaps, but definitely well-impressioned by frequent use.  Tracks, bootprints and ruts clearly delineate the passing of sufficient vehicle and foot traffic, and the surrounding reeds and bushes have not grown over into the well-trodden soil of the roadway. It doesn't take too long for some passersby to come along and point the way to the nearest spot of civilization, and the group learns that they are about ten miles or so out from Hajoth Hakados, where most of them last rememebered they had been, prior to waking up in the cultist lair.  From there, it takes a couple more hours to reach a place where the road seems to follow to the left of a river that's at least a hundred feet wide.     The sky is already completely dark as the group nears the edge of town, where a grand, engraved stone wall protects the properties and residents within.  To the left of the gates is a small grove and some outlying buildings, overlooking some plots of farmland.  On the other side, a stone bridge stretches over the shores of the Sellen River, with more scattered buildings on the opposite bank.   This, is Hajoth Hakados, "The Velvet Caress of the North".     [[ Map — Hajoth Hakados ]]

ピレ (THE PYRE)   After crossing Cougar Creek, it takes the group a little less than an hour to reach the their destination, first following Lost Coast road and skirting Ashen Moor along the edge of the coast, then skipping into a smaller path a bit less travelled when the main road turns south away from the water.  The path winds its way around and up the side of a small hill, then down into a valley after passing what looks to be a hastily abandoned campsite, after which it finally opens up to the coastline once more as it ends in a small plateau at the edge of a cliffside.   [[ Mood Music ]]   An archway of stone is set into the side of a small hill at the otherside of the plateau from the edge of the coast, overlooking the Varisian Gulf.  Moss has overgrown many of the details, but one is still quite clear.  The keystone of the arch is carved with a flame symbol with a stylized rune in the middle. Beyond the archway is a darkened tunnel that leads to a pair of massive wooden doors, one of which is slightly ajar.   A pair of horses and a trio of ponies lie slaughtered next to the archway, each corpse still tied to a post set into the ground nearby.  A swarm of flies hangs lazily in the air above them.

Ghosts Come Home to Roost? 5th day of the 2nd Ride of Eleint, Year of the Banner   The peaceful land of Mistledale has been greatly troubled of late by raiding brigands who strike on moonless nights and then retreat under cover of darkness. Chasing marauding brigands over the fields and hedgerows of Mistledale has proved futile so far, but the other night, sipping your favorite ale while lounging about the taproom eavesdropping at the White Hart Inn in Ashabenford, a new development caught your notice. Rumor, or perhaps fanciful spinning, has it that the brigands might be using the abandoned keep of Galath's Roost, an infamous ruin a few leagues east of Glen, as a base for their raids. Local militia sent to investigate the site have found a few monsters but no signs of habitation. Nevertheless, raids in the northeast end of the dale have been heavy, and the company of militia most recently sent to watch the keep through the night seems to have vanished without a trace! Some of the chatty patrons were not so sure brigands are to blame for the strange doings at Galath's Roost. Until recently, brigand raids were generally sporadic, and most of them took place not only on moonless nights but also always within half a night's march of the forest's edge. The most recent spurt of raids seem to occur more often, and on moonlit nights most of all. Furthermore, at least some of the raiders seem to be mounted. Galath's Roost has long been rumored to be haunted by ghosts of long-dead bandits. Perhaps the ghosts of Galath's band have awakened to raid again!? In any case, a great treasure is reputed to lie hidden in or below Galath's Roost, and that is enough to get any young, restless mind's attention. If that's weren't enough, there is mayhap coin to be made at the keep! The Rider's in Ashabenford have offered a bounty of 100 gp for any raider captured alive and 25 gp for a dead raider (but only if the bounty hunter can prove the slain person was a raider). Your ragtag group, gathered that night around a table at the White Hart by the grace of Tymora, has made a pact and set off to get to the bottom of the mystery of Galath's Roost! You've all yearned for adventure for reasons your own, for fame and coin, or mayhap to shed the yoke of the past. Whatever the reason, there is safety in numbers and so with legs still groggy from that night, you gathered your things, made some last minute purchase and set out for Glen and the ruined keep beyond the forest's edge. Its been a few days of light marching and you left Glen behind early this morning. The sun had warmed your faces as the miles wore on, a well worn trail led you some eight miles to the forest's edge and an overgrown path led you some seven miles more, deep under the canopy of Cormanthor. After some hours following the twisting forest path, you emerge into a wide meadow dotted with individual trees. Ahead, you see a vast pile of splintered and vine-covered rock surrounded by a bramble-choked dry moat. Broken curtain walls, now not much higher than a human can reach, line the inner side of the moat. Several gaps, each as wide as a doorway, are visible from where you stand. A causeway of dirt and rock leads right across the moat to an opening in the curtain wall where a gate might have once stood. The wrecks of stone towers, each only slightly taller than the remaining walls, flank the opening. The path behind you forks here, the west fork of the path leads in the general direction of Glen from whence you came. The east fork leads north and east, possibly towards the Standing Stone. Beyond the ruin, to the south, you can see a low hill with several vultures circling overhead. Light game trails run off to either side around the ruin. You all look to one another. So this is the infamous Galath's Roost? OOCKnowledge (Local: Dalelands) and/or Knowledge (History) might reveal more about Galath's Roost. MAP [For sake of clarity, any reference to cardinal directions in posts will assume that North is Top of Map as posted, unless a Compass Rose is visible.]

Items, notes, maps and any other plot related DM handouts of note.

  Domino Only Awaking from your bizarre nightmare, the first thing you notice is a mild irritation, perhaps even pain.  Still in a haze, you focus your attention to the sensation, it feels as though something is repeatedly pinching, hurting your fingers. Quickly moving your hand, you blindly swat at whatever was provoking your senses.  The contact felt damp, yet bristly and kind of gross all at the same time.   Your eyes snap open, and you take in your surroundings for the first time.  The environs are much different from that of before, still dark and cold, but with a certain solidity of weight to it.  This place feels... real, by comparison.   You find yourself laying on a table, inside a circular section of a room, adjoined by what might perhaps be a library of sorts.  There are other tables on the stone floor, along with some shelves at a distance, most of which empty save for a few odd volumes here and there.   Across from you in this part of the room, there is another being, similarly laid on a table, completely bare, and there is a rather large rat nibbling at a lock of her hair.  Her face looks familiar for some reason.   It's only now that you realize that you are missing the majority of your clothes and your gear, you seem to be wearing only your underthings. Barhuce, Rain, T'Sarra, Val and Vri Whatever began as a couple rounds of drinks at a local tavern in Hajoth Hakados, probably couldn't possibly have explained the way you're coming to right about now.   The dream...  It all felt too real.  The creature's voice, the pain from the devices, the woman's defiance...  It was as though you were each of you personally living those bizzare moments.   And yet, now that you've been brought out of that indescribable nightmare, you find yourselves perhaps waking into yet another.  The surroundings are completely unfamiliar to you, obviously being nothing like that of the inn's room you might have expected.   The floor and walls supporting your body is of stone.  Cold, and perhaps slightly damp with a hint of condensation at places.  The regularity of the walls belie the antrhopogenic nature of the place however — it is not so much a natural cave as it is something that was deliberately constructed by man.   Looking up, you see bars criss-crossed overhead though which filters a flicker of light, so you surmise this might be some kind of a holding cell.  To one side, beyond a similar situation of bars, there is a set of stairs leading up from beyond your immediate confines.   Though missing a majority of your clothes and all of your gear, at least you're alive for a start.     [[ Map — Location Unknown ]]

While the culmination of events leading up to the current situation spans a much longer time in history, it is best to first lead with recent fact. This is where our tale begins, in the small, faraway Varisian town of Sandpoint.     サンドポイント (SANDPOINT) Sandpoint is a beautiful and diverse town, resting in a natural cove along the cliff-lined Lost Coast region approximately thirty miles northeast of Magnimar. Every year on Rova, during the autumnal equinox, the citizens of Sandpoint commemorate a legend regarding Desna (デスナ、北星の女神) with the Swallowtail Festival. Although of late, something has gone wrong…   [[ Mood Music ]]   Moonday, 16 Rova, 4707AR The sun rises lazily over a clear sky on this mid-autumn morning, one week from the festival. Preparations are being made just about everywhere across town, mostly by the cathedral's priests and volunteers, as well as Mayor Deverin's staff, adding to the many responsibilities the town council already regularly undertakes, perhaps alluded to by the many advertisements seeking help posted on the town hall's notice board of late.     The local businesses too have been ramping up to accommodate for the festivities, as trade for foodstuffs and other goods is paving the way for the celebrations next week.   As though with perfect timing, Sandru Vhiski's caravan has rolled lazily into town through the North Gate this morning, bringing with them fresh fruits and many other goods from other nearby towns, just in time to park their wagon carts and join the local merchants setting up their stalls and fairly loosely delineated floor vending spaces at the Sandpoint Market.     Most of the patrons of the Rusty Dragon (ラスティドラゴン宿) are still stirring dreamily in their sleep. The Rusty Dragon is one of Sandpoint's two local inns, and a favorite eatery and watering hole for much of the town's locals and travelers alike. Its owner, Ameiko Kaino (海埜 雨慰子) is already awake and working diligently in the kitchen, from which a host of chopping, bubbling and sizzling sounds can be heard, and delicious smells are beginning to waft into the air of the neighbouring streets and alleyways. On today's breakfast menu is a trusty Lost Coast omelette (a safe option for those who don't care for Ameiko's experimentations), and a weird soupy concoction of noodles that she calls "ramen" for those with a little bit more adventure in their taste buds. And of course, there's always plenty of ale and raspberry mead being served...           (( While these are just some select details about Sandpoint and some of the happenings at the moment, you are free to place your character anywhere within the town to begin with. ))   Map of Sandpoint  

Solitude found an old man and his horse wandering methodically slow down a forested road in western Brenus. It had been carried on the warm wind, ushered by all the colors and smells of midsummer blooms despite the calendar marking the start of the autumn tide - middling greens, blushing yellows and oranges, clear blues marked the edges of the road. Although historically uncommon, wild mushrooms also dotted the roadside, their spots and spores almost like eyes that watched the pair move westward. The pair had felt such gazes from the road ever since they left the unnamed and largely unknown tavern that appeared before Mamlemin in the Ironwoods. A strange woman had invited him in for rest, respite, or rejuvenation, some of which he partook in and most of which he was oblivious to. Perhaps it was the frustration with his inability to stop his friend from killing that held him away from such release. Perhaps it was the disappointment that his path required him yet again to be alone. Perhaps it was all in his mind. Yet deeply affected so, in both heart and spirit, Mamlemin whiled away a day or two in awkward recovery amongst strangers before sallying forth. Ahead of the knight and his steed, the azure sky held few clouds, and yet floating off in the distance was a magnificent fortress. It looked sundered from the very ground and thrown into the air; even from miles away, Mamlemin could see dirt and water falling from the edges in small rivers. His eyes were to the skies, but this was not the fortress he sought - curious as it was, the blue and gold banners marked it as Skyhaven, the capital of Brenus. No, Mamlemin and Strawberry had another floating castle in mind - the site of Pelios's murder, Fort Ennui.

  Just outside the Rusty Dragon, after having made a passing remark at Darhana, Ameiko practically yanks her sister Noriko aside, handing her a basket that had been stacked into the one she herself was carrying. 「一緒に歩いて、順ちん。 Walk with me, Nori-chin. *〜ちん (~chin): Further diminutive form of 〜ちゃん (~chan), which is in itself a diminutive of the 〜さん (~san) honorific. Typically used toward children, specially girls, or younger women with whom you are intimate or familiar, also pets and mascot characters. Common use of this diminutive is often contracted into the subject’s name.」   “Look. I know I was a little abrasive with you back there, sis. Don’t take it personally.” She says to Noriko as they walk down Market Street, headed in the direction for the square, “You’re coming into your own now, as a young woman. You’re growing up faster than I wanted you to you know, but it’s not like I can stop you.”   Passing the Mercantile League building, Ameiko stops before turning the corner at the front of Sandpoint Meat Market, hanging out there at the edge of the building for a moment. There, she lowered her voice, leaning a little closer to her sister,  “I’ve never told you about that time I went off adventuring with Sandru when I was your age, did I?”

  All around you is a bizzare, greenish river of glowing information, endlessly shifting code and equations making up the walls and arched ceiling of what looks to be a massive cathedral.  Minute bits of scrolling characters, some mathematical, others in a language you don't understand, stream across the floor, flowing as though a thin curtain that veils every object, every feature of this place.   [[ Mood Music ]]   As your eyes adjust, you see that this cathedral-like space is vast, with perhaps ceilings a hundred feet overhead.  A silent, yet thick swell of mist obscures any exits there might be from the immediate chamber, beyond which the draconian growl of some unseen creature wards against your escape.  Yet through the massive bay windows you can see clearly beyond, into the depths of a purplish night sky, free from the ghoulish green veil.   In front of you stands a sixty-foot-tall statue of some sort of faceless, macabre female angel with glowing wings akin to that of a dragonfly, each projecting from a gruesome metallic blade.  Spikes protrude from places in the statue's supposed armor, though its general function eludes you as it doesn't seem consistent with any design of which you know.   The forearms of the statue seem each to be seamlessly integrated with a weapon, a sword on the left, and some sort of mechanical contraption with a strange yet imposing rectangular barrel on the right.     A female voice speaks.  The raspy, seductive words seem to be coming from everywhere all at once, yet you somehow recognize that it is coming from the angelic statue before you.  While the volume is consistent of mere conversation, it seems to permeate through you as though it might as well have been the voice of a god.  You immediately understand her, as for some reason she seems to be speaking whatever language it is you first became familiar with in life.  "Do you know why you’re here?"     (( GM's Instructions: This is a Dream State chapter, please use the Dream State version of your character. )) (( Perception checks immediately please, everyone. ))

The active game thread.   OGMW thread found here.

The three compatriots sat at a long table in the communal building of the village Zambezi. Hot and humid but with at least a breeze, they still felt they were better off than they had been yesterday.  The warm and deep voice came from the man with the eyes of a scientist but the body of a gorilla. 7ft tall and covered in dark black fur, not yet having gone grey with age. “My friends, let’s rest here a moment before continuing. That last adventure… harrowing…”   A high and tight voice came from an exhausted Anubin, sitting in front of him “Whatever you say boss. Just glad we made it this far. I knew I was rolling the dice when I decided to travel with you, but this is a lot.”   The final friend, human with brown skin and long hair and wild eyes, spoke with a haunted voice “Sure. It doesn’t matter. We have time. Let’s gather our strength and figure out the next steps from here.” The trio sits in silence for a moment sipping their fermented brews before speaking again.    Answers for next time Who do they talk to to get info how far away is it    

Where there's smoke... Outside Greenwood   The journey that had taken Jana two days and change required only about a half-day of travel for Defiant. It could move far faster than a person on foot of course, and though it was not as swift as some of the more nimble wasteland vehicles, it could traverse certain obstacles better than most (simply going over or straight through them). Still, travel in the wasteland was different than it used to be before the world broke.   The remnants of that world were still in evidence. Long stretches of cracking and broken asphalt still provided paths of travel that could speed up a journey for stretches. But they hadn’t been maintained in any meaningful way in nearly a century, and besides that disrepair, some basic geography itself had been altered. Mountains and valleys were in places where neither existed before. Some of the old roads simply ended in a chasm or ran right into the side of a cliff. The stretches that were easier to traverse were also excellent hunting grounds for bandits, raiders, and gangs, that is if they weren’t already claimed and tolled by more “legitimate” organizations like the Knights.   So it was that an overland journey tended to be a cautious affair. High speeds where the Crew was confident in their knowledge of dangers, but mostly a deliberate pace where they could spot danger well ahead and avoid hazards that would give them trouble.    Jana had warned them about the Screecher nest, and the Crew decided to expend a few cannon rounds and some incendiary devices to clear it out. Tia rumbled forward, La Chancla meted out punishment in the form of high-velocity metal, and the dangerous monsters either exploded or scattered. Jana recovered her mule’s saddle, but the animal itself had long since become a Screecher meal.   Eventually Jana let them know they were drawing close to Greenwood. She was sitting atop the Boom Box with her legs dangling over the side and a big smile on her face, proud that she had managed to find and bring back such auspicious assistance. The Tank was weaving its way through a shallow valley with a wide flat bottom, on approach to the modest plain the settlement sat on. The slopes of hills to both sides of them were filled with trees which had managed to find good clean ground to grow from. The air had been fresh, but slowly a more acrid smell began to waft on the light breeze.   One more corner to round and they would be clearing the trees and valley, and have Greenwood in sight. Jana’s smile fell as she looked up above the nearest tree line. Her brow bent upward in concern. “What… what is that?”   A heavy dark plume was visible from beyond the trees. Smoke. Lots of it.      OOC And the first scene is up! Uh oh, looks like trouble ahead. If you continue at your current speed, Greenwood will be in view in just a few seconds. As such, I'll give you all a round worth of actions to prep (or more if you all decide to pause for a tick) and otherwise react. Then you get to see what all that smoke is about. Mechanics No mechanics yet.   Scene / Map Cedar Valley is a wide, shallow valley on the approach to Greenwood. Wheel marks show it is a very common route to and from the town, and often used by vehicles. Trees grow on either side, providing shade and shelter to a variety of fauna. Tank Tank stuff to come here. Roll thread on OGMW | Tank/Crew Rules

This is for questions and clarifications for Setting Information on the Skies Between. Please restrict your questions to these areas. This is an actual physical place in the Skies Between than can be visited, any in character interactions that happen in this thread may or may not have occured. There is no requirement to ask questions in character. Clare the Librarian The librarian of the Athenaeum of the Skies walks around the collection of books contained within. She being the most knowledgable of the current staff frequents the help desk to provide answers as best she can find and make sure the listings are properly updated to contain the answers.  

Cultures at a Glance: The Sun Kissed People of the Skies Between People of the Lower Crust Inhabitants of the Skies Below   Civilized Races at a Glance: Marsupials Lagomorphs Primates Equines Musteloids Avians   Uncivilized Races at a Glance: Rodents Felines Canids Sauropods Insectids Draconids

Luna Void woke with a stretch and a yawn, squinting at the rising sun showing through one of the large windows of her room in the high tower. Webs of frost encrusted the outside of the window, and the entirety of the campus that sprawled and rose below her glimmered in the dawn light with a white dusting of frost or light snow.  She smiled as she noted the winking lights of the sprites and will o' wisps flitting in the shadows of the Living Maze.  Soon they would be playing and tricking arriving students. Catching the first wisp of the year was a tradition that she always competed heavily in when she was a student here.     As she dressed in the heavy ceremonial robes that she always wore on a first day, she checked the variety of magical indicators, clocks and monitors that festooned the small desk in the corner by the armoire.   The school was currently deep in the Canadian wilderness, not that that would have much impact on the arrivals of the students.  Much of the faculty and staff had already arrived over the last week, but she still hadn't heard anything from Isobel or Soibahn and she had what she hoped would be the final interview for a new Numerology professor.  She placed the wide-brimmed and ridiculously tall witch's hat on her head and spared a moment to look in the mirror.  The silver and gold embroidered stars and moons slowly danced across her robes and hat, highlighting constellation configurations and other notable alignments with a subtle flashing glint of soft white light.  She smiled at the effect, picked up her wand from the desk and with a gesture vanished from the room.   The grand and impossible castle was buzzing and alive with activity, even this early in the day for today was Arrival Day! The day when the students, new and old, came to the campus.  Classes wouldn't start until Monday, but the weekend would be full of old friends meeting up for the first time in a month, excited to show new things gained over the break or to talk about family vacations and drama.  There would be new students trying to learn the flow and patterns of the castle and the school.  Inevitably there would be interesting magical happenings occurring all over the place.    As the earliest of students arrived on the grounds, the kitchens have already been hard at work preparing breakfasts and snacks.  Various human and non-human staff were working to make sure the dormitory rooms were ready for their occupants, and various brownies, domovoi, and killmouilis moved through the halls chasing out loose animator effects, smudges, and other housekeeping tasks.  The branches of the Living Maze flexed and twisted as if in anticipation.  A small heard of Catoblepas raised their heads from the partially frozen reeds at the edge of the lake, eyeing the approaching Magical Creatures Professor.  A few other staff members were fanning out from behind him to help recapture the escapees while a flock of Frostwings drifted through the air overhead, a soft burst of snowflakes erupting with each slow wing beat.     Numerous flyers decorated the walls and small tables of pamphlets and refreshments had been setup near all the common entry points.  These notices included information about the grand Welcoming Dinner planned for Sunday evening, as well as notices about last minute changes in course and club availability.  The pamphlets included jaunty animated illustrations of generic students and professors performing spells, playing and laughing.  Prominent on all of the notices was an alert that a flock of Chickcharney have taken up roost near the Defensive Magic classrooms and care should be taken from disturbing them for fear of the not-well-understood luck manipulation abilities.

Timeline / History Overview: War of the Dragons (500 + years) Era of the Skies (0 ES to 433 ESK) The Shattering (433 ES to 600 ES / 0 ESK) Era of the Sun Kissed (0 ESK - 400 ESK Current)

Neither Larisa nor Mikołaj have any trouble paying a visit to the premises of Karev & Sons, one of the more well-known auction houses specialising in the everyday needs of a thriving economy. While outrageously expensive art does change ownership under auspices of Juliana Karev and her family every now and then, the usual merchandise is less grand. Often more sizeable though. The Karevs handle everything from the contents of cargo holds to entire clippers, from more mundane art to entire private libraries, and from local production to colonial imports.   The most extravagant feature is a large conservatory. Originally built to house exotic plants imported from the colonies, this annex to the building is now also used as a verdant backdrop for the auctions. And as a quiet show of wealth, because even in the deepest winters the conservatory maintains its small, tropical ecosystem. Now, in early autumn, the rain often drums heavily against the glass panels, forcing everyone to speak a little louder to be heard.     Larisa mingles easily with the guests on two evenings, allowing her to get a good understanding of how the Karevs handle their business. All auctions are conducted by a length of candle, meaning that the bidding ends the moment the auction candle's flame is extinguished. There is no great showmanship involved, but the auctions always happen in the evenings or even late at night to ensure that the flame can easily be seen against the background of a dark window. Some people seem to enjoy this kind of auction as a visitor sport of sorts. They only rarely bid themselves and clearly come to see and be seen while partaking in the refreshments offered between auctions. This is not high society, but it is comfortably part of the upper middle class.   The store rooms and offices in the main building are off limits to visitors and Larisa has no low-risk opportunity to sneak up the stairs from the entrance hall that takes up the entirety of the ground floor. Downstairs seems to be at least a small kitchen and upstairs are clearly offices used by the Karevs and their clerks. Storerooms for smaller auction pieces are also maintained while larger pieces and lots covering entire cargoes and ships are kept at other sites.   Mikołaj's intelligence gathering is somewhat less successful. While he manages to get information that confirms Larisa's observations, his dedicated studies of the notice boards draw the attention of the Karevs' resident insurance against magic meddling: the magebreaker they keep on retainer has pegged him as a sorcerer and will keep an eye on him should he see him again. There are no accusations voiced or threats made, but Mikołaj clearly falls within his remit and he will remember the face.   The lot that needs to be acquired is listed as the estate of a certain Vakaris Dabulis, recently deceased on his way back from a visit to the colonies. It entails various pieces of furniture, wardrobe, and private possessions, including his correspondence, lepidoptera collection, and sketches of various statues, women, and ships. Your superiors in the house unfortunately could not narrow their request down to a specific item, so you will have to ensure that the entire lot comes into your possession.   Game Mechanics Use the planning thread to figure out which plan type you want to pursue and what the missing detail would be. Assault: Point of attack Arcane: Magical means Deception: Method Social: Connection Stealth: Entry point Transport: Route You may instead use your house feature Our Reputation Precedes Us to automatically start a Social engagement in a risky situation. Your connection will be a contact who fears you. This contact cannot be one of the decision makers of Karev & Sons, but someone involved with the auction process is permissible. Select your Load Limit: Discrete (1-3) or Loaded (4-6)    

The heavily armed section manning the gates checks your identification despite knowing perfectly well who you are. After all, you are on a first name basis with most of them and one or two you actually met just this morning while doing your shopping or at work. Now they flash you terse smiles and their rifles pointedly stay at a low ready while your IDs are run through the system. Moments later they wave you through and you are in for the next leg of your journey to combat readiness.   All across the base hurried activity can be witnessed. With only very limited personnel numbers on an ordinary day, getting the battalion together and ready to deploy takes its time. Those living closer are already in full gear, getting vehicles ready, and doing their best to fill a fluid personnel roster as the men and women sworn to defend this spot of Cascadia trickle in. One of the dropships is already spooling up its engine, tasked with picking up platoons from more distant settlements so the brass can ultimately put together the puzzle pieces of an entire battalion. But it will take time to get it all together and into place.   As you rush towards the squat building housing your equipment lockers, a young woman runs past in the opposite direction, pilot helmet under one arm, an equipment bag slung over the other shoulder, and a steady stream of creative expletives on her lips as she makes for the dropship before her right-seater takes off without her. You know her, she knows, but there is no time for friendly hellos on either side.   The first sign that the whole affair is not quite the real deal is when the Sergeant in charge of the armoury hands you rifles with the prominently yellow adaptors that need to be fitted for the simulation ammunition. The magazines you receive next are marked with the same signal colour. But even after that revelation, it all still feels very much real. The roaring engines of the dropship taking off, the frantic activity, the harried briefing you get from the platoon commander before you are pushed back out of the gates to do your part-time job in the military.   According to the exercise scenario, an intrusion into BLUFOR-controlled territory was detected when one of the unknown dropships got sloppy on the egress route and pulled up a little too early. Once caught out by radar, this little carelessness set into motion the flurry of activity you are part of now. Your immediate task is straight-forward enough.   The Gervais family called up from their farm to let the powers in charge know that something or someone seemed to be lurking around in the nearby woods. Since the vector for the unknown-presumed-hostile dropships seemed an awful lot like it might fit right in with that mysterious activity, command decided that someone should check it out and figure out whether the intruders came from either the feared Red Alliance or the reviled Yellowland. Ultimately, after moving down through the organisational structure, that tasking landed right in your hands.   You hitch a bumpy ride in the cargo bed of a civilian truck, the driver of which was voluntold to help you out (and got rewarded with a flimsy slip of paper entitling her to be reimbursed for fuel costs as well as wear and tear), and with the sun still reasonably high up in the skies you find yourself pushing up the dirt road towards the farm. Everything seems peaceful enough at first: the birds are singing, the grass and trees sway in the gusting wind, and the Gervais family is nowhere in sight. Possibly off on holiday with no knowledge whatsoever that they are playing an unwitting part in the exercise script.     Issued Equipment Identical loadouts for this encounter: 1x Assault rifle, Ranged (Heavy), Damage 8, Critical 3, Range Long, Encumbrance 3 (reduced to 1 with weapon sling), Autofire 1x Extra reloads, Encumbrance 1 1x  Fragmentation Grenade, Ranged (Light), Damage 8, Critical 3, Range Short, Encumbrance 1, Blast 7, Limited Ammo 1, Vicious 1 1x  Smoke Grenade, Ranged (Light), Range Short, Encumbrance 1, creates smoke for 2+ turns 1x Light Body Armour, Defence 0, Soak +2, Encumbrance 2 (0 when worn) 1x Emergency Medpack, Encumbrance 1 Medic also receives 1x Medpack, Encumbrance 2   You also each deploy with one of your fireteam members. The other four did not make it to base in time and will have to sit this one out. We will be using simplified rules for them: while they are combat effective and can support you, they will add 1 Blue to all relevant rolls. Whenever you take damage, you may opt to reassign the damage to them instead. What to do Add the issue equipment to your character sheets as necessary Roll an Average difficulty Perception check in this thread since Baldr currently cannot handle the dice we are using Do your introductory post with a little fluff and let me know where you and your buddy are moving The dashed arrow is the overall direction the section is planned to travel to check out the farm Teams can split off and move around the edge instead, for example Corporal O'Donnal is in charge in-universe, but players obviously get to decide what their fireteam does, so avoid issuing orders in fluff text Bullets will start flying soon, but who is going to stumble over whom remains to be seen The map currently refuses to upload to Baldr itself, I'm working on that  

Prelude: The Contract   Filthy, parched, exhausted, Jana approached the ramshackle nomad bazaar with hope and trepidation. The journey had taken two days, about half of which was atop a mule, the other half on foot after abandoning the mule to a hive of screechers to which she’d wandered too close. It made a meal for them, and a distraction for her to get away. Thankfully. Her rifle had only sixteen rounds, all that was left from what her settlement could spare, and it was doubtful it would have been enough if the screechers had come after her. She shuttered, sighed, and continued approaching her objective.    The bazaar was a collection of vehicles and small portable structures, nestled up close against one another and connected by tangles of ropes, tarps, wires, and tubes such that it seemed to have all grown together like some mutant junk beast. However, if presented with a significant and insurmountable threat, the whole thing could be pulled apart, wrapped up, and driven off to a new destination.  A rumble in the distance served as a reminder of just one such danger. Lightning flashed somewhere far off over the hills, and a dark thunderhead swirled out on the edge of the horizon. Clouds and haze mostly obscured a form moving along with the clouds, the silhouette of something impossibly large. Not this way, to the fortune of all nearby. She couldn’t tell if it was thunder that echoed across the plain, or footsteps.    A turret atop one of the vehicles that made up the bazaar swiveled her way, though the gun didn’t seem to aim directly at her. Jana gulped and continued walking. She spotted several other vehicles and mounts surrounding the bazaar. Visitors, it seemed, utilizing the place as the way-station, trade depot, fuel stop, sanctuary, and road house it was meant to be. Several motorbikes were parked next to a pair of horses, of all things. The animals were easily more valuable and expensive to maintain than the bikes. A jeep, a couple buggies, and some sort of utilitarian truck also surrounded the bazaar. One one side she spotted a pair of metal mounts, with armor and heraldry that marked the pickup trucks as clearly belonging to Knights of Ford. A squire attended them, polishing a long lance that hung off the side of one, next to a mean-looking machine gun. On the other side of the bazaar stood another vehicle, big and brutish. All armor atop massive treads, with a huge gun barrel protruding out of a turret on top. They called it a tank. A few distant figures were busy working near it. This was Jana’s true target, but she was hungry, thirsty, tired, and needed a brief respite.    “Welcome, stranger,” a voice called out as Jana drew near. A figure leaned out from atop the turret on the guard post, which seemed to be a platform atop scaffolding sticking out of a small trailer, a mounted gun on top. The thin man with a thin beard that addressed her didn’t seem highly wary of her. Jana knew she didn’t cut a very threatening figure, and the heavy artillery up there was meant for raiding parties or monsters. The man himself had a hunting rifle propped against a shoulder. “You look like you could use a drink. The cantina is that way. We have supplies for trade, if you’ve anything worthwhile. Not much in the way of handouts here, and you best keep your piece well stowed.”   Jana nodded, “I could use that drink. And something to eat. I got some shinies for trade, and I’m looking for a safe haven, not a fight.”   “Things can get rowdy ‘round here with the characters we get, but anyone who breaks the rules ain’t welcome back.” He pointed to a posting attached to the scaffolding under him, with a few written rules accompanied by iconography for those that couldn’t read. Jana could. A little.    She nodded to the guard, and walked into the bazaar. A drunk man, looking rather wretched and possibly a mutant, was slumped against the wheel well of one vehicle/structure. He barely looked up as Jana passed. She nearly jumped when an old woman hawked her wares in a raspy voice, and Jana took a glance at the table where small tools, trinkets, and accessories had been hewn from scrap metal.    Moving on, the sound of carousing caught her attention, and the smell of cooking meat captured her nose and dragged her forward. The source of the meat was something many wastelanders had stopped being picky about generations ago, though the quality did vary depending on where one settled or traveled. Greenwood, where Jana hailed from, was actually prosperous when it came to food, and her stomach and palette were used to goats and pigs. But her hunger was such that when she saw the charcoal-scrawled menu outside the cantina advertising roachburgers, tacos ratos, and fried crow, she didn’t exactly turn up her nose. To their credit they also seemed to have bison steaks, but no doubt it would be too expensive for what Jana had to spare.    She opened the door to a long steel tube on wheels. Adorned with decorations and signage and windows, it served as the cantina. The smell of cooking food was stronger inside, as were the heady fumes of distilled drinks and unwashed bodies. Electric lights lit the interior, and power was even spent on an ancient music device playing scratchy songs from before.    She found the proprietor easily enough behind a bar setup, and had him bring her a skewer of the meat special from the grill, a liter of thrice-filtered rainwater, and a shot of some milky-clear, hard-edged liquor. Jana unrolled a wide strip of leather which bound up some of her small trading valuables to show the barman, and he nodded in acceptance at a quick glance. There was enough there they could make a trade, the specifics could be figured out after. She wolfed down the skewer of meat, slammed the shot, and chased it all with a sip of the chill water before refilling her water bottle with the rest. The clanking of metal caught her ear.   She turned, and a man was sauntering up to her. A broad-brimmed sat perched atop his head and a red-brown beard framed his face. The clanking was on account of the armor he wore. It wasn’t like some full medieval suit like in the story books, but it did seem like an uncomfortable amount of steel plates covering thighs, chest, shoulders, and arms. A sword dangled from one hip, and a pistol was holstered at the other. It was an easy connection to make with the trucks out front of the bazaar, and a crest on his breastplate verified: A Knight of Ford, in the metal-plated flesh.   “Afternoon ma’am,” he drawled as he walked up to the bar, “You’re a little thing to be out on your own. Can we offer you any assistance?” He doffed his hat and dipped his head slightly.   It was an idea, trying to use the Knights, and one the town elders had discussed. But there were plenty of drawbacks to that plan, and to the order itself. “My thanks, good sir,” she said, knowing enough about their preferred customs and fragile egos to use proper etiquette, “but I’m doing just fine. Too little for most to notice, you see.” She followed it up with what she hoped was a winning smile, and too late her tongue felt a little bit of mystery gristle between her teeth from that skewer.    “Suit yourself, but it's a dangerous world out there” he said with a skeptical look, then had the barkeep fetch him a watery-looking beer before heading back to a table with two other knights.    Jana didn’t miss the hard look he gave to another table as he passed, one filled with an eclectic group of wastelanders. They had a hard look to them, no strangers to the dangers of the waste, clearly. But grimy and grease-stained as many of them were, they didn’t quite have the look of scavengers or bandits either. Jana had a feeling these were the people she sought. They were just getting up from their table, and left a generous lot of shinies behind for whatever they’d been consuming. Jana beckoned the barkeep over and bartered for the meal and drink, thinking it likely she got the short end of the trade in her rush. She hefted her rifle over her shoulder more securely, and exited the cantina in pursuit of the crew.    It wasn’t difficult to follow them, and easier still that she was correct in where they were headed. She weaved around some barrels and mechanical detritus, stepping past the vague perimeter of the bazaar, and approached the group who had gone back to their tank.   Up close, the beast of a machine was even more intimidating. Battle-scarred but well cared for, it was a massive bulk of impenetrable-looking metal. Smaller barrels poked out of the sides, ready to spit death onto any lesser assaulters, and dangerous looking mechanisms jutted from the top that looked plenty deadly in their own right though she wasn’t sure exactly what they did. The big cannon was obvious though, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she could fit her whole head into the orifice, were she insane enough to do so.   The crew had noticed her, and a few were forming up a loose semi-circle as she approached while others stayed busy with whatever mechanical endeavors they were working on. They were an intimidating bunch, carrying all manner of weapons, and having the scars to prove they’d been on the receiving end of weapons in their own right. At least one seemed to be a mutant, maybe others. As scary as they were, they seemed to be waiting for her to make known why she’d ended up among them.   Here goes nothing. “Uh, well met,” she began, stumbling a bit over her words. She was met with a few inclined heads and returned greetings. Even a smile. She continued, “My name is Jana, and I’ve come looking for you on behalf of my town. Word has spread that you and your tank can face just about anything the wastes have to offer, and that is the kind of help we need. Uh, ‘we’ being the town of Greenwood. Well, not the whole town exactly. We have our troubles, but that’s not why we need you. A few of us… we want to get to Athens Station down south a ways. Heard of it? Probably have. My uncle of mine lives way out west, like, all the way west, and we want to bring something important to him. We hear they got a train running from Athens all the way out there, or most of it anyway. That’s not as important though… the main thing is we need to get to Athens, it’s real real dangerous, and we want to hire you to get us there safely. Me, my ma, my brother, and our vehicle. The town is well off, we can offer a good price in fuel, food, parts, or whatever we can figure. What do you say?”   She took a deep breath, she had got it all out. They asked her some questions, then huddled up to consider. It wasn’t very long. They came back to her.   “You have a deal. Get some rest. We leave first thing in the morning.”     OOC This in not up for official roleplaying or anything yet, but I wanted to get up a little in-character scene to give you an idea where things starting, and some flavor of the world. Also, starting to figure out some good formatting for posts. If it helps to ground any of your background (I know this isn't very dense with lore), there you do.    When the game begins, you'll be in transit with Jana back to her town. I may open up this prelude scene as we put finishing touches on characters once players are selected to do a little IC interacting.