Bay 12 Games Forum

Year 167.1

A strange tide of energy sweeps across the Slugman Duchies, and for a moment the stars flash red and the sky grey. When it stops, thousands of crystals erupt from the ground, each one a different color.

(6) Pale Crow : Kashyyk, MoP, TricMagic, Doomblade, Jerick, Urist Mc Dwarf
(6) Even Evil has Standards : Kashyyk, MoP, TricMagic, Doomblade, Jerick, Urist Mc Dwarf

Environment
Rainforest: ()
Ruined Castle: (2) Failbird, Urist
Ruined City: ()
Sewers: (5) Sanctume, WyrdByrd, King Zultan, Amyclas, Crazyabe

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Monster
Giant Spiders: ()
Gargoyles: (2) Failbird, Crazyabe
Giant Cockroaches: ()
Giant Rats: (3) Sanctume, WyrdByrd, King Zultan
Golems: ()
Snakes: (1) Amyclas
Ants: (1) Urist

B

You reach out and take the sword, shivering slightly at the feel of the ice-cold metal. It almost seems to burn your hand for a moment before the feeling fades away as a sheath appears around your waist, the sword suddenly breaking apart in your hand then reforming in the sheath. The tome you pick up with one hand, skimming through its contents once more, the words shifting and transforming before your eyes, although they briefly stabilize a few times long enough for you to read a few words about brandy and waterwheels. The pen you pick up and a note pops out of a hidden slot: "Click me!"

Doing so, you see a drop of ink fall from the tip, and another slip of paper appears from a different hidden slot. "Recording now." Then between one step and the next, you are falling through some sort of void of flickering colors. You see things…an enormous serpent, a carved standing stone, a purple archway. Suddenly you hit the ground and hit it hard, hard enough you see stars for a moment as you lie on your back, dazed and confused. After a few minutes, you manage to clamber up to your feet and look around.

You are in a field of boulders of rounded boulders of varying sizes, scattered about like some giant dropped a handful of pebbles upon the ground. Three sides of this field are surrounded by thick, dense forest, the trees close together and the spaces in between filled with thickets of brambles and thorns. A crow is staring at you from one branch, before taking wing.

On the fourth side, there is a stream tumbling down the slope, winding around some boulders as it goes. On the other side is a field that leads downwards, and you can see a wide valley spreading out before you, dotted with a few stands of trees.

You also see three figures, wrapped in rough, furry cloaks emerge from the forest, each one hunching over and holding a long spear tipped with a brown metal.

For eternity the Asana have ruled the stars, their powers beyond human comprehension. Only their ships could traverse the vast emptiness of the void. Only their weapons could destroy the mysterious things which lurked in the hearts of the Shattered Planets and the Dead Stars. And while they generally did their best not to remind people of that, they did make a single request: If you have a dispute with another planet, come to us. We will determine how it is settled.

And if the only settlement the planets would accept was war, the Asana had an answer for that as well. Scattered about the stars are human worlds without spacecraft. Some don’t even have steam engines. Some don’t even have fire. And when all other options are refused, the Asana send a human from each side of the dispute to one of those planets, with a single instruction: Uplift.

You are one of those humans. Now you are here, deeper inside one of their ships than you have ever been, you sit, staring at a form. It’s pretty brief, but you are wondering why the Asana are having you fill it out. They probably already know everything there…and they have those impossible machines which could just take it from your mind as well.

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Planet of Origin:

Description:

You fill it out anyway, there’s no sense wasting time, and the wall whirls open, the metal vanishing into a faint vortex which fades away entirely, revealing a table with a few pieces of gear on it. There’s also a sign, which says “Pick Three.”

[] A long black sword which is ice cold to the touch.
[] A bronze helm with faintly glowing runes on it.
[] A living strip of skin. Touching it lets you feel some sort of mind.
[] A wooden hammer which feels surprisingly heavy.
[] A tome with words you can’t quite read, with a gear and musket on the cover.
[] A pen. As far as you can tell it’s perfectly ordinary.

You wonder why the Asana make their tech look like that. It might help you blend in, you suppose…

You take your equipment, sneer at your rivals, and then you are falling, falling, falling…

And you awaken on the hard stony ground. What do you do?

Quote from: 1freeman on September 14, 2019, 09:53:27 am

Quote from: Superdorf on September 14, 2019, 05:35:28 am

Eh, we'll find other places to hunt. Make the promise, take the money.

+1

+1

+1

But ask where else we can find it.

Sithin watched. Sithin waited. Deep below, Sithin hungered. It rose, slowly, breaking bonds and casting off weights, and above it the waters churned. The clear waters turned dark red and boiled and bubbled, faint whispers rising from the surface, speaking of Sithin and the hungry deeps.

Above them, the acolyte watched. He had spent years seeking power, clawing his way up. Once a disinherited son of a minor family, he stood closer to the halls of power than ever now. True power, not pathetic gold or empty power. His friends in the Aboleth Association had helped him every step of the way, and now they needed his help. The book had offered hints, tantalizing ones, but there wasn't enough to complete the spell. So he used the fragments to call to something which would know more. Sithin. The Hunger in the Deep. The Friendly Stranger. The Sailor's Gift.

He began the incantation, but as the water began to change, doubts started to creep into his mind. And with them came whispers. "Come. Take my gift. You are thirsty..." The voice murmured, and the acolyte struggled to resist, struggled to break the connection. A hand reached for the drain, but it was caught halfway through the movement, and the whispers grew louder. More insistent. Hungrier...