A Spark of Warpfire
In the grim future of the 43rd Millennium, Humanity is under siege from...
In the grim future of the 43rd Millennium, Humanity is under siege from...
A Spark of Warpfire (40k/MTG/Various Crossovers Quest)
- Thread starter Grinnin_Gin
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Introduction
- Location
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A Spark of Warpfire
In the grim future of the 43rd Millennium, Humanity is under siege from within and without. The great Chaos Gods and their mewling, wretched hosts of fallen Space Marines, traitor Guardsmen, and unspeakable abominations march forth from the Eye of Terror to rape, reave, and corrupt all they touch. The cursed Xeno races sow the seeds of conflict wherever they go, either by stealth or by sword, while Man suffers the consequences of their arrogance and cruelty.
In this dark time, for the lowly to the high, there is only war.
But even now, there are champions who push back the tide of foes that are battering against the bulwark.
Noble Astartes and brave Imperial Guardsmen crash against innumerable Heretics, Mutants, and Xenos; the Orders Militant, the Adeptus Sororitas wash away the unclean with their fire and faith; The Adeptus Mechanicus toil in vast forges, creating the sacred arms and munitions needed for conflicts that span generations; and The Inquisition hunts down those shadowy threats that would seek to undo the God-Emperor's great work.
The great engine that is the Imperium, the sacred Golden Aquilla that spreads wing across the galaxy is made of untold trillions of men and women whom fight, work, and die, all pressing back against the most unspeakable of horrors. Their very beings devoted towards the most basic of virtues, that of survival. But not just survival, oh no. Survival on Humanity's terms. The Imperium will not be dictated to, neither by daemon nor xeno. For thousands of years, they have yet stood firm against the array of enemies who would seek to wipe all that is good from the cosmos, and they will stand firm for thousands of years to come.
But it is not enough.
It has never been enough.
Humanity is besieged by foes who have long memories, and long plans; A lost battle here, a lost battle there, a century of resistance that chews up armies; What does it matter to those foul, wretched creatures of the Immaterium? They are timeless, and all powerful; The Imperium can last for another ten thousand years, or another hundred thousand years for all the Chaos Gods care. Sooner or later, it will all come crashing down. And the final victory, the only victory that has ever truly mattered, will be theirs.
But they have been defied before. They have suffered unimaginable defeats at the hands of those both great and small.
And even the tiniest spark can set the galaxy aflame.
In the grim future of the 43rd Millennium, Humanity is under siege from within and without. The great Chaos Gods and their mewling, wretched hosts of fallen Space Marines, traitor Guardsmen, and unspeakable abominations march forth from the Eye of Terror to rape, reave, and corrupt all they touch. The cursed Xeno races sow the seeds of conflict wherever they go, either by stealth or by sword, while Man suffers the consequences of their arrogance and cruelty.
In this dark time, for the lowly to the high, there is only war.
But even now, there are champions who push back the tide of foes that are battering against the bulwark.
Noble Astartes and brave Imperial Guardsmen crash against innumerable Heretics, Mutants, and Xenos; the Orders Militant, the Adeptus Sororitas wash away the unclean with their fire and faith; The Adeptus Mechanicus toil in vast forges, creating the sacred arms and munitions needed for conflicts that span generations; and The Inquisition hunts down those shadowy threats that would seek to undo the God-Emperor's great work.
The great engine that is the Imperium, the sacred Golden Aquilla that spreads wing across the galaxy is made of untold trillions of men and women whom fight, work, and die, all pressing back against the most unspeakable of horrors. Their very beings devoted towards the most basic of virtues, that of survival. But not just survival, oh no. Survival on Humanity's terms. The Imperium will not be dictated to, neither by daemon nor xeno. For thousands of years, they have yet stood firm against the array of enemies who would seek to wipe all that is good from the cosmos, and they will stand firm for thousands of years to come.
But it is not enough.
It has never been enough.
Humanity is besieged by foes who have long memories, and long plans; A lost battle here, a lost battle there, a century of resistance that chews up armies; What does it matter to those foul, wretched creatures of the Immaterium? They are timeless, and all powerful; The Imperium can last for another ten thousand years, or another hundred thousand years for all the Chaos Gods care. Sooner or later, it will all come crashing down. And the final victory, the only victory that has ever truly mattered, will be theirs.
But they have been defied before. They have suffered unimaginable defeats at the hands of those both great and small.
And even the tiniest spark can set the galaxy aflame.
____________
Welcome to A Spark of Warpfire.
This is my second quest, and I do hope to get it off to a better start than my last quest, which lasted all of about, oh...four updates? Granted, it only took me -two- updates for everything to go to hell in a handbasket, meaning that 40k seems to be the right setting for me to QM in!
Yay?
Anyway, onto the quest itself: You (meaning you and the other fine creatures that lurk in the dread realm of the Warp, err, I mean, Sufficient Velocity), will get to direct the life of your Average(ish) human who ignites their Planeswalker Spark.
You will get to decide certain aspects of their character, within reason. And I will throw all of the many monstrosities of the multiverse at you (which, compared to what we see in 40k, are actually not that bad).
Be warned, I wont let you get away with trying to avoid the 40k-verse forever; Since after all, if you were able to leave it...that means others can come in now, if they know where to look. And it's only polite to clean up your messes.
Whats worse, Chaos-corrupted Eldrazi, or Eldrazi-corrupted Chaos?
Ahem. Anyway, yeah. You will have to have some Goals, you will definitely have to fight and potentially die multiple times over the course of your ascendancy as a Planeswalker.
Sounds simple, no? Yeah, it's not.
Anyway, other posts will have a character sheet, combat system, other handy-dandy info etc all fleshed out. Those will be posted "below" this one.
For now, this introductory post will also have a FAQ (or at least, questions I think people would ask), simply because this will be readily visible.
FREQUENTLY ARTICULATED BLASPHEMIES:
Q: What sort of systems (if any) are you using to resolve situations?
A: I'll be using a home-brew rolling system, which is based upon what I've seen Durin (from the infamous 40k quest Embers in the Dusk) use.
Situations that require some brain power or are otherwise important are resolved via dice rolls (such as combat, important character interactions, and loot pulls). Dice rolls will be standardized so that 1 = critical failure, 100 = critical success. It is impossible to hit anything lower than a critical failure, with the sole exception being you're doing something so complicated that you roll a negative number after debuffs are taken into account, in which case you'd still need to roll a natural 1 for it to be a Greater Critical Failure (I'm forgiving like that).
Critical Success occurs on nat 100, regardless of buffs or debuffs, and occurs "regularly" if your roll is 100 or greater after buffs.
Greater Critical Success occurs if you roll a result (with buffs) that hits something above, or equal to, 150. Double Critical Success = Your original roll + buffs resulting in a value greater or equal to 200, which will be...unlikely but possible, eventually. If you ever get a result that totals out to 300 you'll just win the quest. (This is going to get people trying to power level a skill so stupid but mundane they could conceivably get enough buffs to roll a 300, isn't it? Just kidding. Don't try to reach 300).
Q. Is this going to crossover with other universes besides MTG and 40k?
A. Definitely. What are those universes going to be? Uncertain. I'll try not to introduce too many different universes, if only because it'll become a ton to keep track of. If you have any particular universes you'd like to see and think would be a good fit for this quest, please feel free to suggest them.
Q. Omakes? How do they work?
A. Omakes will get you bonuses if they're done well. What those bonuses will be are up to me, but the more interesting they are, the more I'll be willing to award. They should relate to a particular situation in some way, shape or form. Alternatively, "Meanwhile, in the Imperium..." posts that follow the protagonist's ascension to Planeswalker-hood and any subsequent investigations or musings (or even geo-political status reports) are also welcome and will not only get you points, but may be incorporated into quest canon.
Q. How will you merge the "magic systems" of MTG and 40k?
A. MTG will have a priority override over Warp/Psychic magic. Warpcraft and Sorcery will have color influences, but will have a uniquely corrupting nature if your character tries to cast spells exactly like Pskyers do.
Think of it as a special-sub mechanic like Devoid, or Phyrexian mana: Chaos mana twists a given spell in unique ways.
Can your character learn to cast Warp Sorcery over time? Sure. Is it dangerous? Absolutely.
That being said, Psykers are genetically mutated in ways that enable them to access the warp: The Planeswalker Spark is such that it has no connection to genetic lineage, and does not start out corrupted/influenced by the Warp, meaning that things that hurt Psykers specifically do not neccesarily harm you in the same way. But that might change if you start to dabble in Warpsorcery...
Q. What is inspiring this quest? Any source material we should be familiar with?
A. Well, no rule books really or anything like that. I'm not going to be particularly exhaustive to the point of getting familiar with all of 40k or MTG, simply because there's so much of it.
But there are some fanfiction stories and quests this draws inspiration from, namely:
The Shape of the Nightmare to Come/The Age of Dusk: (We might see some elements from this pop up. See if you can spot them before they eat everything!)
Embers in the Dusk, A Planetary Governor Quest: (not for any characters or what-not, just for being a great and fun look into the 40k verse). < This IS, however, the quest I decided to model my dice system after (to a point anyway).
Ignition, MTG/Crossover Quest: (Again, no characters or neccesarily universes. Just a fun and amusing quest that shows how wacky planeswalker antics can get).
Magic the Gathering and Warhammer 40,000: Duh.
Q. You said it's possible to get debuffs. What happens when you roll a nat 100, but then have enough debuffs to hit what would be considered a critical failure (1 or below?).
A. You ascend to become the Chaos God of Memes. (Natural rolls override buffs. Even if you have 1000 as a result, if you hit a nat 1, you still fucked up. But if this scenario actually does happen, I'll probably do something epic and amusing. I am a fickle god, I mean, QM.)
Q. How should we submit questions?
A. Via PM, or @ me with a Numbered list of questions.
Q. Do we label plans?
A. Yes, label your plans and vote choices.
Welcome to A Spark of Warpfire.
This is my second quest, and I do hope to get it off to a better start than my last quest, which lasted all of about, oh...four updates? Granted, it only took me -two- updates for everything to go to hell in a handbasket, meaning that 40k seems to be the right setting for me to QM in!
Yay?
Anyway, onto the quest itself: You (meaning you and the other fine creatures that lurk in the dread realm of the Warp, err, I mean, Sufficient Velocity), will get to direct the life of your Average(ish) human who ignites their Planeswalker Spark.
You will get to decide certain aspects of their character, within reason. And I will throw all of the many monstrosities of the multiverse at you (which, compared to what we see in 40k, are actually not that bad).
Be warned, I wont let you get away with trying to avoid the 40k-verse forever; Since after all, if you were able to leave it...that means others can come in now, if they know where to look. And it's only polite to clean up your messes.
Ahem. Anyway, yeah. You will have to have some Goals, you will definitely have to fight and potentially die multiple times over the course of your ascendancy as a Planeswalker.
Sounds simple, no? Yeah, it's not.
Anyway, other posts will have a character sheet, combat system, other handy-dandy info etc all fleshed out. Those will be posted "below" this one.
For now, this introductory post will also have a FAQ (or at least, questions I think people would ask), simply because this will be readily visible.
FREQUENTLY ARTICULATED BLASPHEMIES:
Q: What sort of systems (if any) are you using to resolve situations?
A: I'll be using a home-brew rolling system, which is based upon what I've seen Durin (from the infamous 40k quest Embers in the Dusk) use.
Situations that require some brain power or are otherwise important are resolved via dice rolls (such as combat, important character interactions, and loot pulls). Dice rolls will be standardized so that 1 = critical failure, 100 = critical success. It is impossible to hit anything lower than a critical failure, with the sole exception being you're doing something so complicated that you roll a negative number after debuffs are taken into account, in which case you'd still need to roll a natural 1 for it to be a Greater Critical Failure (I'm forgiving like that).
Critical Success occurs on nat 100, regardless of buffs or debuffs, and occurs "regularly" if your roll is 100 or greater after buffs.
Greater Critical Success occurs if you roll a result (with buffs) that hits something above, or equal to, 150. Double Critical Success = Your original roll + buffs resulting in a value greater or equal to 200, which will be...unlikely but possible, eventually. If you ever get a result that totals out to 300 you'll just win the quest. (This is going to get people trying to power level a skill so stupid but mundane they could conceivably get enough buffs to roll a 300, isn't it? Just kidding. Don't try to reach 300).
Q. Is this going to crossover with other universes besides MTG and 40k?
A. Definitely. What are those universes going to be? Uncertain. I'll try not to introduce too many different universes, if only because it'll become a ton to keep track of. If you have any particular universes you'd like to see and think would be a good fit for this quest, please feel free to suggest them.
Q. Omakes? How do they work?
A. Omakes will get you bonuses if they're done well. What those bonuses will be are up to me, but the more interesting they are, the more I'll be willing to award. They should relate to a particular situation in some way, shape or form. Alternatively, "Meanwhile, in the Imperium..." posts that follow the protagonist's ascension to Planeswalker-hood and any subsequent investigations or musings (or even geo-political status reports) are also welcome and will not only get you points, but may be incorporated into quest canon.
Q. How will you merge the "magic systems" of MTG and 40k?
A. MTG will have a priority override over Warp/Psychic magic. Warpcraft and Sorcery will have color influences, but will have a uniquely corrupting nature if your character tries to cast spells exactly like Pskyers do.
Think of it as a special-sub mechanic like Devoid, or Phyrexian mana: Chaos mana twists a given spell in unique ways.
Can your character learn to cast Warp Sorcery over time? Sure. Is it dangerous? Absolutely.
That being said, Psykers are genetically mutated in ways that enable them to access the warp: The Planeswalker Spark is such that it has no connection to genetic lineage, and does not start out corrupted/influenced by the Warp, meaning that things that hurt Psykers specifically do not neccesarily harm you in the same way. But that might change if you start to dabble in Warpsorcery...
Q. What is inspiring this quest? Any source material we should be familiar with?
A. Well, no rule books really or anything like that. I'm not going to be particularly exhaustive to the point of getting familiar with all of 40k or MTG, simply because there's so much of it.
But there are some fanfiction stories and quests this draws inspiration from, namely:
The Shape of the Nightmare to Come/The Age of Dusk: (We might see some elements from this pop up. See if you can spot them before they eat everything!)
Embers in the Dusk, A Planetary Governor Quest: (not for any characters or what-not, just for being a great and fun look into the 40k verse). < This IS, however, the quest I decided to model my dice system after (to a point anyway).
Ignition, MTG/Crossover Quest: (Again, no characters or neccesarily universes. Just a fun and amusing quest that shows how wacky planeswalker antics can get).
Magic the Gathering and Warhammer 40,000: Duh.
Q. You said it's possible to get debuffs. What happens when you roll a nat 100, but then have enough debuffs to hit what would be considered a critical failure (1 or below?).
A. You ascend to become the Chaos God of Memes. (Natural rolls override buffs. Even if you have 1000 as a result, if you hit a nat 1, you still fucked up. But if this scenario actually does happen, I'll probably do something epic and amusing. I am a fickle god, I mean, QM.)
Q. How should we submit questions?
A. Via PM, or @ me with a Numbered list of questions.
Q. Do we label plans?
A. Yes, label your plans and vote choices.
Last edited:
Character Sheet(s)
- Location
- United States
Name: Avera Crusoe
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Dominitas V (Death World)
Appearance: Standing at 5' 11", Avera has short cropped, dirty blond hair that she does her best to keep out of her eyes. She has a wry build, with an athletic physique that only serves to make her look taller than she actually is. She favors bulky clothing with plenty of extra protection like many Dominitans do, in order to not give any unwanted wildlife a chance to find open skin. She has several long scars along her torso in parallel lines, a where a particularly nasty predator nearly mauled her to death. Her skin is rather pale, sickly so, thanks to the nigh perpetual rainfall Dominitas suffers, as well as the fact that she spent much of her time indoors.
Skills:
Combat: 8 + 2 + 3
Resolve: 10 + 2 + 3
Social Skills: 10 + 2
Perception: 10 + 2
Attributes:
Constitution: 10 + 1 + 2
Intelligence: 12 + 1
Mana Pool: 5 + 1
Luck: 5
Specific Skills:
Mana Sense: (1)
Landbond: (0)
Traits:
Imperial Guard Training (+3 to Combat and Resolve traits, +2 to Constitution. Basic Firearms Knowledge.)
Death Worlder (+2 to all mundane skills, +1 to all mundane attributes. Basic survival skills. Increased Reaction Time.)
Lucky (nat 99s count as nat 100s, normal 99s count as normal 100s)
Spark of Insight (+2 to all learning rolls)
Fresh Faced: (-5 to social perception/lie detection, increased perception by others as a non-threat, easier for others to trust you.)
Bloodied: (You have had your first taste of battle, and it has been a particularly nasty exposure to war. You are less likely to break now, but it will haunt you in certain ways.)
Planeswalker's Spark: (You have the ability to traverse the Blind Eternities, and can now jump between Planes at will. This grants you an innate starting mana pool, and also allows you to grow your potential more than most regular mortals.)
Backstory:
You were born and raised to a relatively 'middle class' family, such as it was, on a Death World called Dominitas V. Your parents were low level Administratum officials, thus securing your relatively safe domicile in the middle of the planet's capital.
Dominitas V was notorious for its incredibly poisonous planet life...and thus, the extremely carnivorous wildlife that evolved to eat each other instead of the plants. Swarms of Tri-bladed Locust, packs of Wilde-scorpians, Acidflys and Bloodants were amoung the least of the predators. Still, by the time you were born most of those natural threats had been well curtailed and kept away from the densely populated capital, but no one careless on Dominitas V survived for too long.
The planet served to weed out the stupid and weak, but also served to make your childhood rather interesting. You always were a bit of an optimistic child, but that optimism is quickly tempered by the harsh reality of living on a Death World, which is an unusual living even by Imperium standards.
Time passed as it often did for the young, and sooner rather than later you found your budding life plans come to a screeching halt, courtesy of a set of papers that came to your door one day.
Everyone did a bit of a stint in the local militia, although the pressing need for soldiers in the Numenor sub-sector saw your number turn up for conscription into the 102nd Dominitas Reservists. Now enlisted into the Imperial Guard, you throw yourself into training and found yourself quickly shaping up to be a cut above the regular agri-world farm boy, or even a tough hive worlder.
In fact, your entire unit impressed the Commissar sent to inspect the readiness of your troops. It was on that Commissar's order that you were to be stationed in the thick of the fighting to fight against your enemies for the first time. Which would help explain how the events to come unfolded the way they did.
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Dominitas V (Death World)
Appearance: Standing at 5' 11", Avera has short cropped, dirty blond hair that she does her best to keep out of her eyes. She has a wry build, with an athletic physique that only serves to make her look taller than she actually is. She favors bulky clothing with plenty of extra protection like many Dominitans do, in order to not give any unwanted wildlife a chance to find open skin. She has several long scars along her torso in parallel lines, a where a particularly nasty predator nearly mauled her to death. Her skin is rather pale, sickly so, thanks to the nigh perpetual rainfall Dominitas suffers, as well as the fact that she spent much of her time indoors.
Skills:
Combat: 8 + 2 + 3
Resolve: 10 + 2 + 3
Social Skills: 10 + 2
Perception: 10 + 2
Attributes:
Constitution: 10 + 1 + 2
Intelligence: 12 + 1
Mana Pool: 5 + 1
Luck: 5
Specific Skills:
Mana Sense: (1)
Landbond: (0)
Traits:
Imperial Guard Training (+3 to Combat and Resolve traits, +2 to Constitution. Basic Firearms Knowledge.)
Death Worlder (+2 to all mundane skills, +1 to all mundane attributes. Basic survival skills. Increased Reaction Time.)
Lucky (nat 99s count as nat 100s, normal 99s count as normal 100s)
Spark of Insight (+2 to all learning rolls)
Fresh Faced: (-5 to social perception/lie detection, increased perception by others as a non-threat, easier for others to trust you.)
Bloodied: (You have had your first taste of battle, and it has been a particularly nasty exposure to war. You are less likely to break now, but it will haunt you in certain ways.)
Planeswalker's Spark: (You have the ability to traverse the Blind Eternities, and can now jump between Planes at will. This grants you an innate starting mana pool, and also allows you to grow your potential more than most regular mortals.)
Backstory:
You were born and raised to a relatively 'middle class' family, such as it was, on a Death World called Dominitas V. Your parents were low level Administratum officials, thus securing your relatively safe domicile in the middle of the planet's capital.
Dominitas V was notorious for its incredibly poisonous planet life...and thus, the extremely carnivorous wildlife that evolved to eat each other instead of the plants. Swarms of Tri-bladed Locust, packs of Wilde-scorpians, Acidflys and Bloodants were amoung the least of the predators. Still, by the time you were born most of those natural threats had been well curtailed and kept away from the densely populated capital, but no one careless on Dominitas V survived for too long.
The planet served to weed out the stupid and weak, but also served to make your childhood rather interesting. You always were a bit of an optimistic child, but that optimism is quickly tempered by the harsh reality of living on a Death World, which is an unusual living even by Imperium standards.
Time passed as it often did for the young, and sooner rather than later you found your budding life plans come to a screeching halt, courtesy of a set of papers that came to your door one day.
Everyone did a bit of a stint in the local militia, although the pressing need for soldiers in the Numenor sub-sector saw your number turn up for conscription into the 102nd Dominitas Reservists. Now enlisted into the Imperial Guard, you throw yourself into training and found yourself quickly shaping up to be a cut above the regular agri-world farm boy, or even a tough hive worlder.
In fact, your entire unit impressed the Commissar sent to inspect the readiness of your troops. It was on that Commissar's order that you were to be stationed in the thick of the fighting to fight against your enemies for the first time. Which would help explain how the events to come unfolded the way they did.
Last edited:
Indexies
- Location
- United States
Reserved for future use
Update 1: Enter, Avera
- Location
- United States
When they packed you into the transport ship like sardines, you had no idea what would be in store for you.
Oh, sure, you had taken basic. You had listened to your Commissar drone on and on about duty to the God Emperor, which you took to with a solemn numbness. And even that lackluster conviction was better than some of the stuff you heard the soft yokels from the Gondal 32nd say about the God Emperor.
Soon enough though, there was no time for talking. "The Battle" had come. What battle that was, you hadn't the faintest clue. You had been barely paying attention to what your actual mission was, why they were deploying so many troops onto this one little forgotten world made of rock, and more rock.
It had taken a surprisingly short time to get to where you were going, although for all you knew about interstellar travel it could have been wildly off base.
Still, about three months of cramped quarters later, and you were dumped planetside.
"Welcome to Laufey." A gritty, scarred quartermaster said to you, shoving a gas mask into your hands. The winds could kick up a shit ton of dust and debris, and you didn't want to be breathing that shit in he said, especially considering the stuff The Enemy could put into the air.
Who The Enemy was, you didn't ask. You did as you were told, putting up with it and taking your lumps. You made the best of it, having become a decent hand at cards when a deck could be found, and generally being a reliable subordinate.
When you looked at the large camp that dominated a vast plateau, mountain side bristling with concrete bunkers and Anti-Aircraft cannons that could shoot a fly off a battlecruiser, you figured this would be little more than a mop up operation.
You learned better very, very quickly.
Your regiment was quickly directed to The Line, a mess of trench work and barbed wire that stretched from one end of the horizon to the other.
Your unit (a simple infantry line that was forted up near a fixed gun emplacement), had barely started to settle in when the dim, gray sky turned to rust almost instantly.
Shocked gasps could be heard all over the line, with only the sound of superior officers keeping order (and the occasional CRACK or ZAP of a Commissar's gun) heard afterwords as order was restored.
Squinting, you looked up from your foxhole to see a line on the horizon that wasn't there before. And said line was starting to get bigger.
Slowing your breath, you listened to the wind, trying to figure out what was coming this way. Sandstorm, maybe? You had heard rumors about the shitty weather...
But then you heard the voices carry over the wind, and their words made your heart freeze in your chest.
"KILL. MAIM. BURN."
It started off as a stacato beat, and sooner rather than later the forward observers had relayed to their commanders that the enemy was coming.
And on that vast, empty plain of dirt you heard the Emperor's Wrath open up with a bellow.
"MAIN GUN READY! FIRE!"
A deafening "BOOM", a crack of godly thunder rippled up and down the line as the heavy artillary did its work. Shells began to rain upon the enemy, and you thought for sure that no force could stand against it.
But the line kept coming, and you saw shapes begin to pull away from the rest of the pack.
"KILL! MAIM! BURN!"
The cry, which had been a uniform beat, quickly disintergreted into a thousand different voices screaming that insane pledge to the heavens, as they began to charge towards your line in earnest.
The fixed guns right above your heads began to unleash its fury, pouring into the enemy ranks and the oncoming vehicles.
"KI-BURN-MAIM-BU-KILL!" reverberated along the line, and you sat there, before shaking out of your reprieve, if only just. A quick glance at your weapon confirmed that your standard issue Las-rifle was ready to go.
The world was nothing but noise at this point.
Slowly, you focused and lifted your gun up as you saw the first points of rifle fire open up along your side of the trench line.
With a precision ease, you lined up your sights and pulled the trigger on the closest target.
A lance of light nailed your foe in the shoulder, sending him to the ground with a scream. If it was a scream of agony or of extcasy however, you couldn't tell. What you could tell, however, was a hideous mark in the shape of an eight pointed star had been branded onto his face.
Disturbed, you barely had the wherewithal to line up your next target, this time blowing a neat hole in his bare chest.
So it continued for a minute, ducking back into cover at times as you had to avoid a hail of fire from the enemy.
And it was at that point that the enemy began to meet the Imperial Guard.
Immediately, screams could be heard coming up and down the line as the enemy met them in close quarters combat.
Echos of blasphemous, terrible sayings rang in your ears as you looked around, trying to get your bearings as you looked to save your own skin.
Near your position, you could see a trooper being -eaten- by a group of half-naked savages. Another had a lance the size of your forearm pining him to a concrete emplacement. Yet another was trampled to death under the mob, his skull cracked like an egg as crimson blood watered the dusty soil.
Yet still, disillusioned, you did not break. No matter the failure of the Emperor's Hammer, you would do your best to not die here.
But, that thought was cut short as you dove back into your foxhole, as flaming vehicle crashed into the fixed gun right above your position.
You -think- you remained aware for the entire time, but you couldn't quiet tell. Your vision was blurry, to say the least as you picked your trembling form up, just in time to see a vision straight from a nightmare approach your position.
A giant, clad in armor that looked crafted from raw meat strode through the fires that had sprung up from the doomed vehicle's fuel. With contemptuous ease, he grabbed a fleeing guardsman by the arm and tore him in half.
A spatter of crimson coated the giant's pale face, which was un-helmeted. A single vulture gray eye remained in its socket, while the other had a bionic implant that glowed with baleful hellfire.
He turned to look at you, grinning a mad grin as he flew through the air, cackling like a madman to end your life.
Your vision began to tunnel. All sound, all color drained away until you could only hear the steady beating of your heart and the breath leaving your lungs.
Thump...
Thump...
Thump...
...
...
...
... (Trait Gained: Planeswalker's Spark)
A new life filled your limbs. A grim resolve made the world snap back into focus for the briefest of seconds.
'I will not die here. Not today.' You thought. And this simple conviction moved heaven and earth in a way that all the Chaos Gods in their grotesque splendor could not manage in a thousand thousand years.
With a displacement of time, space, and more dimensions than even the lowliest of warpspawn could hope to navigate, you vanished from that broken planet.
And, in that moment of transition between the the universe you knew and...somewhere else, you saw the firmament stretched out before you.
You could see the Eye of Terror and the swirling souls of untold trillions orbiting it, writhing in agony for the rest of eternity. You could see the bright stars of the Eldar Craftworlds, drifting across the endless sea of space. You could see the Shadow in the Warp, the Great Devourer slithering from dark space to swallow the Imperium of Man whole. You even thought you caught a glimpse of two green giants, peering down at the disk that was the Milky Way galaxy and bickering back and forth.
You saw all of this, but did not know what to make of it.
But there was one thing you could see, and it filled your heart with a tentative hope.
The light of the God-Emperor of Mankind was a great beacon that ignited the center of the Imperium. Though it fluctuated, you could feel His touch drive away the other fell powers that sought to grab hold of your soul as it pierced the Immaterium and all that was underneath it, into the great expanse beyond.
And in that moment, you knew one thing: Though the Emperor may not have been with you on that day, he was there...somewhere.
However, what you could not understand, were all the colors attached to each sight.
Burning reds, calm blues, warm whites, void-blacks, life-giving greens...swirling maelstroms of color clung to everything in a discordant clash that would have made your eyes water, if you had 'eyes' at the moment. And of those colors, some were strange, as if muted or blended.
(Skill Gained: Mana Sense (0))
But these were the most basic of impressions, squeezed into an instant of observation as your soul broke through a barrier that had not been passed through in quite some time. Here one moment, gone the next, with an eternity inbetween.
All things must end however, and your journey had reached the true midway point.
With a metaphysical 'blink', you saw new places, impossibly, swim before your vision.
[] A snowy plain, with a great mountain larger than even the one your regiment had made camp below, looming in the distance.
[] A forest road, paved with gravel winding its way to destinations unknown.
[] A desert, sand stretching into infinity, two suns hovering in the clear blue sky.
Thinking quickly, you dive towards one, and end up tumbling to the ground in a heap, scrambling to tear off your mask.
You heave violently, sickness leaving your body as you shiver, panting and shaking from the stress of combat. Tears stream down your face, although you can't tell if its from nerves, joy...or both. (Trait Gained: Bloodied)
After taking a moment to collect yourself, you freeze, hands searching for your gun before you thankfully find it, having been thrown to the side during your little...cool down time.
Absent mindedly, you wipe the last bit of bile from your face and onto the ground, before doing a supply check, doing your best to -not- have another break down, thank you very much.
You have most of your things. Lasgun, with near-full power pack and spare power pack, check. Three day's ration bars, check. Canteen and water purification tablets, check. Emergency camo blanket, check. Entrenchment tool, check.
Slowly you re-pack your things (Emperor bless the fact you actually carried everything the quartermaster said you -should- have on you), and take a look around, breathing deeply.
Okay. You had just gone through the first battle of your life, and ended up in the middle of a land completely unlike anything on Laufey, much less in the damned Numenor sub-sector. Not to mention you could apparently -feel- colors now.
What the fuck were you going to do now?
Pick Choices: Note, take too many actions and you might not have time to do all of them.
ALSO, PICK WHICH PLANE YOU END UP LANDING ON. AND LABEL YOUR CHOICES UNDER A PLAN.
[] - Explore your location.
____
Example Plan:
Plan Z (Please don't pick exactly this, that's boring. )
[] A snowy plain, with a great mountain larger than even the one your regiment had made camp below, looming in the distance.
[] - Explore your Location
____
Note: Omakes, etc are love. Voting will be a bit longer than subsequent update periods, so I hope to see some decent action plans!
Oh, sure, you had taken basic. You had listened to your Commissar drone on and on about duty to the God Emperor, which you took to with a solemn numbness. And even that lackluster conviction was better than some of the stuff you heard the soft yokels from the Gondal 32nd say about the God Emperor.
Soon enough though, there was no time for talking. "The Battle" had come. What battle that was, you hadn't the faintest clue. You had been barely paying attention to what your actual mission was, why they were deploying so many troops onto this one little forgotten world made of rock, and more rock.
It had taken a surprisingly short time to get to where you were going, although for all you knew about interstellar travel it could have been wildly off base.
Still, about three months of cramped quarters later, and you were dumped planetside.
"Welcome to Laufey." A gritty, scarred quartermaster said to you, shoving a gas mask into your hands. The winds could kick up a shit ton of dust and debris, and you didn't want to be breathing that shit in he said, especially considering the stuff The Enemy could put into the air.
Who The Enemy was, you didn't ask. You did as you were told, putting up with it and taking your lumps. You made the best of it, having become a decent hand at cards when a deck could be found, and generally being a reliable subordinate.
When you looked at the large camp that dominated a vast plateau, mountain side bristling with concrete bunkers and Anti-Aircraft cannons that could shoot a fly off a battlecruiser, you figured this would be little more than a mop up operation.
You learned better very, very quickly.
Your regiment was quickly directed to The Line, a mess of trench work and barbed wire that stretched from one end of the horizon to the other.
Your unit (a simple infantry line that was forted up near a fixed gun emplacement), had barely started to settle in when the dim, gray sky turned to rust almost instantly.
Shocked gasps could be heard all over the line, with only the sound of superior officers keeping order (and the occasional CRACK or ZAP of a Commissar's gun) heard afterwords as order was restored.
Squinting, you looked up from your foxhole to see a line on the horizon that wasn't there before. And said line was starting to get bigger.
Slowing your breath, you listened to the wind, trying to figure out what was coming this way. Sandstorm, maybe? You had heard rumors about the shitty weather...
But then you heard the voices carry over the wind, and their words made your heart freeze in your chest.
"KILL. MAIM. BURN."
It started off as a stacato beat, and sooner rather than later the forward observers had relayed to their commanders that the enemy was coming.
And on that vast, empty plain of dirt you heard the Emperor's Wrath open up with a bellow.
"MAIN GUN READY! FIRE!"
A deafening "BOOM", a crack of godly thunder rippled up and down the line as the heavy artillary did its work. Shells began to rain upon the enemy, and you thought for sure that no force could stand against it.
But the line kept coming, and you saw shapes begin to pull away from the rest of the pack.
"KILL! MAIM! BURN!"
The cry, which had been a uniform beat, quickly disintergreted into a thousand different voices screaming that insane pledge to the heavens, as they began to charge towards your line in earnest.
The fixed guns right above your heads began to unleash its fury, pouring into the enemy ranks and the oncoming vehicles.
"KI-BURN-MAIM-BU-KILL!" reverberated along the line, and you sat there, before shaking out of your reprieve, if only just. A quick glance at your weapon confirmed that your standard issue Las-rifle was ready to go.
The world was nothing but noise at this point.
Slowly, you focused and lifted your gun up as you saw the first points of rifle fire open up along your side of the trench line.
With a precision ease, you lined up your sights and pulled the trigger on the closest target.
A lance of light nailed your foe in the shoulder, sending him to the ground with a scream. If it was a scream of agony or of extcasy however, you couldn't tell. What you could tell, however, was a hideous mark in the shape of an eight pointed star had been branded onto his face.
Disturbed, you barely had the wherewithal to line up your next target, this time blowing a neat hole in his bare chest.
So it continued for a minute, ducking back into cover at times as you had to avoid a hail of fire from the enemy.
And it was at that point that the enemy began to meet the Imperial Guard.
Immediately, screams could be heard coming up and down the line as the enemy met them in close quarters combat.
Echos of blasphemous, terrible sayings rang in your ears as you looked around, trying to get your bearings as you looked to save your own skin.
Near your position, you could see a trooper being -eaten- by a group of half-naked savages. Another had a lance the size of your forearm pining him to a concrete emplacement. Yet another was trampled to death under the mob, his skull cracked like an egg as crimson blood watered the dusty soil.
Yet still, disillusioned, you did not break. No matter the failure of the Emperor's Hammer, you would do your best to not die here.
But, that thought was cut short as you dove back into your foxhole, as flaming vehicle crashed into the fixed gun right above your position.
You -think- you remained aware for the entire time, but you couldn't quiet tell. Your vision was blurry, to say the least as you picked your trembling form up, just in time to see a vision straight from a nightmare approach your position.
A giant, clad in armor that looked crafted from raw meat strode through the fires that had sprung up from the doomed vehicle's fuel. With contemptuous ease, he grabbed a fleeing guardsman by the arm and tore him in half.
A spatter of crimson coated the giant's pale face, which was un-helmeted. A single vulture gray eye remained in its socket, while the other had a bionic implant that glowed with baleful hellfire.
He turned to look at you, grinning a mad grin as he flew through the air, cackling like a madman to end your life.
Your vision began to tunnel. All sound, all color drained away until you could only hear the steady beating of your heart and the breath leaving your lungs.
Thump...
Thump...
Thump...
...
...
...
... (Trait Gained: Planeswalker's Spark)
A new life filled your limbs. A grim resolve made the world snap back into focus for the briefest of seconds.
'I will not die here. Not today.' You thought. And this simple conviction moved heaven and earth in a way that all the Chaos Gods in their grotesque splendor could not manage in a thousand thousand years.
With a displacement of time, space, and more dimensions than even the lowliest of warpspawn could hope to navigate, you vanished from that broken planet.
And, in that moment of transition between the the universe you knew and...somewhere else, you saw the firmament stretched out before you.
You could see the Eye of Terror and the swirling souls of untold trillions orbiting it, writhing in agony for the rest of eternity. You could see the bright stars of the Eldar Craftworlds, drifting across the endless sea of space. You could see the Shadow in the Warp, the Great Devourer slithering from dark space to swallow the Imperium of Man whole. You even thought you caught a glimpse of two green giants, peering down at the disk that was the Milky Way galaxy and bickering back and forth.
You saw all of this, but did not know what to make of it.
But there was one thing you could see, and it filled your heart with a tentative hope.
The light of the God-Emperor of Mankind was a great beacon that ignited the center of the Imperium. Though it fluctuated, you could feel His touch drive away the other fell powers that sought to grab hold of your soul as it pierced the Immaterium and all that was underneath it, into the great expanse beyond.
And in that moment, you knew one thing: Though the Emperor may not have been with you on that day, he was there...somewhere.
However, what you could not understand, were all the colors attached to each sight.
Burning reds, calm blues, warm whites, void-blacks, life-giving greens...swirling maelstroms of color clung to everything in a discordant clash that would have made your eyes water, if you had 'eyes' at the moment. And of those colors, some were strange, as if muted or blended.
(Skill Gained: Mana Sense (0))
But these were the most basic of impressions, squeezed into an instant of observation as your soul broke through a barrier that had not been passed through in quite some time. Here one moment, gone the next, with an eternity inbetween.
All things must end however, and your journey had reached the true midway point.
With a metaphysical 'blink', you saw new places, impossibly, swim before your vision.
[] A snowy plain, with a great mountain larger than even the one your regiment had made camp below, looming in the distance.
[] A forest road, paved with gravel winding its way to destinations unknown.
[] A desert, sand stretching into infinity, two suns hovering in the clear blue sky.
Thinking quickly, you dive towards one, and end up tumbling to the ground in a heap, scrambling to tear off your mask.
You heave violently, sickness leaving your body as you shiver, panting and shaking from the stress of combat. Tears stream down your face, although you can't tell if its from nerves, joy...or both. (Trait Gained: Bloodied)
After taking a moment to collect yourself, you freeze, hands searching for your gun before you thankfully find it, having been thrown to the side during your little...cool down time.
Absent mindedly, you wipe the last bit of bile from your face and onto the ground, before doing a supply check, doing your best to -not- have another break down, thank you very much.
You have most of your things. Lasgun, with near-full power pack and spare power pack, check. Three day's ration bars, check. Canteen and water purification tablets, check. Emergency camo blanket, check. Entrenchment tool, check.
Slowly you re-pack your things (Emperor bless the fact you actually carried everything the quartermaster said you -should- have on you), and take a look around, breathing deeply.
Okay. You had just gone through the first battle of your life, and ended up in the middle of a land completely unlike anything on Laufey, much less in the damned Numenor sub-sector. Not to mention you could apparently -feel- colors now.
What the fuck were you going to do now?
Pick Choices: Note, take too many actions and you might not have time to do all of them.
ALSO, PICK WHICH PLANE YOU END UP LANDING ON. AND LABEL YOUR CHOICES UNDER A PLAN.
[] - Explore your location.
[] - Try to find shelter for the night.
[] - Try and find a settlement or natives of some kind.
[] - Figure out what the hell just happened.[] - Go back to Laufey, or at least try to.
[] - See if you can at least go back to the Place Between.
[] - Colors? What's up with that.[] - Try and see if you can do that thing with your eyes again. As disturbing as everything was, it might just be important, considering you could see The Emperor. Or at least...you think you did.
[]- Write In____
Example Plan:
Plan Z (Please don't pick exactly this, that's boring. )
[] A snowy plain, with a great mountain larger than even the one your regiment had made camp below, looming in the distance.
[] - Explore your Location
[] - Try and find a settlement or natives of some kind
[] - Don't let them eat you. Preferably.
[] - Colors? What's up with that.[] - Try and see if you can do that thing with your eyes again. As disturbing as everything was, it might just be important, considering you could see The Emperor. Or at least...you think you did.
[] - Do cool omake stuff to get bonuses and stuff.
____
Note: Omakes, etc are love. Voting will be a bit longer than subsequent update periods, so I hope to see some decent action plans!
Last edited:
Update 2: Travel to interesting places, they said...
- Location
- United States
Once Avera was finished with her minor break down, she took stock of the situation once more. She was reasonably well equipped, even if it was disgustingly hot. Thankfully it was a dry heat, with no wind whipping the sand in her face. Decent enough walking weather, and she would have a clear line of sight to see any landmarks or signs of civilization. Plus, she was...reasonably certain she could pull off the thing that had landed her here in the first place.
She hoped.
Still, standing around and endlessly planning for contingencies would only make her dehydrate that much sooner. Cradling her lasgun, she set her sights on a distant spike of rock jutting from the sand dunes, and started forward, carefully listening for any potential foes. Her first instinct had been to abandon her heavier clothing and flak jacket, but she discarded that idea. If nothing else, the spire was close enough to where she could gauge if the heat would keep her from functioning if she kept it on for a longer period of time.
As she walked, she thought about just what, exactly, had happened to her. She had seen the Emperor, that much was certain. She had also seen the dark monstrosities that He was fighting against in the Warp. His light was...well, it was many things. It made her want to bow her knees in supplication, but at the same time she barely understood all the things she had seen as she passed through that space inbetween Laufey and...wherever she was.
An open mind was a fortress unguarded, as the saying went...but still, did one not have to open the gates to send an army forth? She was far, far too curious to not try and see what she had seen again, hopefully minus the terrible things she was trying very, very hard not to think about.
So she reached out, and nothing happened. Frowning in concentration as she kept walking forward, she tried to reach inwards. Nothing.
She kept trying, nearly giving her a headache as she tried every single possible mental trick to call up that feeling again. And then...she carefully, carefully reached elsewhere.
And the colors sprang to life.
This wasn't seeing, however, far from it. This was much more of a feeling of certainty that transcended the senses. She could feel the burning suns above were filled with Red, while the land beneath her feet was a mix of White and Red. The Spire up ahead had a very, very small pool of Green far below it, so distant she could barely feel it. Life, perhaps? Water? It was hard to tell. Blue was altogether absent here.
But strangely, there was a great mass of Black far beneath the surface of the world, so deep that she wouldn't have felt it if it weren't for the fact it didn't just encompass her patch of the desert, but the entire planet. It wasn't malevolent, however. It was like a dead thing at peace, long buried underneath the white blanket of sand. She could almost feel the colors...reaching out to her. The desert, blasted landscape it may be, was still a thing that existed. And everything that existed had life, of a sort.
The sensation was still disturbing, and served to make her cast her senses elsewhere. She focused them up ahead, searching...it was hard to do, and she nearly stumbled once or twice from the concentration it was taking. But she kept at it, sharpening her senses. Eventually though she dropped it, unable to maintain it. She felt winded, more than just from the effort of walking however.
After a good half hour of walking, she was at the base of the spire. Panting, she made her way towards the side where the sun wasn't beating down on her head and unhooked her canteen and took a drink of it, gulping down a mouthful with glee before resting against the smooth stone for a moment, doing her best to rub the sweat out of her eyes.
Then she rubbed her eyes again, because she couldn't believe what she saw. People! Actual, human people!
They were distant, travelling over a set of dunes at least five minutes minutes away back towards wherever they had come from, but she could easily sprint the distance and meet them.
Gathering her things up, she grabbed hold of her rifle from where she had set it down, and quickly jogged the way, her heart filled with a certain level of hope.
"Hey! Wait!" She called out, trying to get their attention once they were only about a dune away from her. She thankfully caught their attention, the trio of beings coming to a halt to turn around to face her. And, thankfully, they were indeed human.
The one in the center was a female, clearly in command of the group. She had dark brown hair that came down to her ears in a rough style, her violently green eyes examining Avera with a clear look of caution. Oddly enough, this woman was the only one wearing any form of outer coat, which took the form of a roughspun brown cloak that looked almost like something a farm hand would wear as a tunic.
The second female on her left was wearing a much lighter outfit, which Avera at first mistook for being completely immodest, until she realized that the cloth covering the rest of her body was very close to skin tone, perhaps to elicit such a reaction in the first place. It was all made of some sort of leather-like material, the darker portions woven in such a way that it gave structure to the rest of the outfit. It looked practical for comfort, but nearly worthless in terms of protection. The woman gave her a cool gaze, her steel gray eyes almost hypnotic.
The man to the right wore an awfully bright orange jacket and brown trowsers, his hair thinning ever so slightly around the edges. A stern frown framed by a light beard and mustache was firmly afixed to his face, his dark eyes scanning her body in a manner reminiscent of a fellow soldier sizing someone up for a fight.
When she looked again for any weapons they might be carrying, however, all she could see was a small pistol clipped to the man's belt. The women both had some strange looking cylinder attached to their waists, but Avera couldn't determine what exactly they were. All in all, she didn't like her odds if she got into a fight. The pistol was far less bulky than her rifle, and if the two women were packing any firepower, she would be dead before she could shift her aim to the others.
Thankfully, Avera looked more comical in her getup than threatening. She was still clad in her standard issue armor, complete with blocky helmet. It looked entirely uncomfortable to them, not to mention impractical in the hot climate. And, other than the tan pants, the forest green armor provided little concealment in any environment that existed on Tatooine. There was also the matter of the comically oversized blaster rifle she was still cradling in her hands.
"Are you lost?" The leader said, still a bit wary to Avera's eye, but non confrontational. "You're dressed strangely for a mercenary."
"Thaya." The woman to the right said, leaning over to whisper something in the cloaked woman's ear that Avera couldn't hear. The man perked up, clearly interested in the byplay happening in front of him, but maintained his position, keeping his eyes squarely on the unknown in their midst.
The leader, Thaya, straightened up a bit. "I guess since you flagged us down though, you must want something. And since you aren't trying to shoot at us or eat us, which is better than most things in this desert, I'm half inclined to lis-."
As luck would have it, it was precisely at that moment the universe decided that Avera hadn't dealt with enough life threatening things today. A great chorus of howls echoed through the air in a brutish warcry that set her hair on end. Turning around, she saw a small horde of creatures dressed in ragged cloaks cross the dunes with frightening speed. Some of them were brandishing rifles, others wicked looking clubs tapered with spikes.
"Bastila, cover them!" Avera heard Thaya said, springing ahead with incredible speed. With a snap-hiss, a blade of pure green plasma sprang to life in Thaya's hand, deflecting shots from the approaching enemy with a precision that went beyond anything a normal human could do. The movements were fluid, precise, and spoke of a lifetime of dedication.
Avera could only appreciate this for a moment, however, instead opting to scramble out of the way of the oncoming fire, bringing her rifle about to snap off a few shots at their attackers. Some went wide, burning the sand into glass where it connected, but she tore holes in two enemies. The other woman, Bastilla, had a strange double bladed version of that plasma sword (this one curiously enough colored yellow), the tips of the blades whirling about in a defensive dance that covered her and the male, who was plucking away at their enemies with that surprisingly deadly pistol of his.
Watching Thaya cut through the foe like a deadly whirlwind, however, was quite impressive. Her enemies were slaughtered to the last, quickly, precisely. It was combat as an artform, and it made Avera feel...
[] Starstruck.
[] Humbled.
[] Renewed.
[] Thoughtful.
[] Envious.
Well, it made her feel like that. And just as suddenly as the attack began, it was over. Their enemies were cut down, and Avera found the other three looking at her again, even more curious than before.
The man glanced at her and huffed. "Never seen a Blaster quite like that before. You mind telling us who you are, and what you're doing in the middle of the Dune Sea dressed up like you're headed to war?"
_____
GM Note: Here it is, delayed horribly but still. Also, don't forget to write in your reaction to seeing Lightsaber combat for the first time.
Questions, comments, concerns? Feel free to ask. Active discussion is loved. Also, if you can't tell, we're in the Jedi Civil War era, and Thaya is this universe's Revan.
Plan Label
[] Tell them the truth.
[] Ask them questions?:
____
Skill Change:
Mana Sense (0) -> Mana Sense (1)
Skill Discovered
Landbond (0)
She hoped.
Still, standing around and endlessly planning for contingencies would only make her dehydrate that much sooner. Cradling her lasgun, she set her sights on a distant spike of rock jutting from the sand dunes, and started forward, carefully listening for any potential foes. Her first instinct had been to abandon her heavier clothing and flak jacket, but she discarded that idea. If nothing else, the spire was close enough to where she could gauge if the heat would keep her from functioning if she kept it on for a longer period of time.
As she walked, she thought about just what, exactly, had happened to her. She had seen the Emperor, that much was certain. She had also seen the dark monstrosities that He was fighting against in the Warp. His light was...well, it was many things. It made her want to bow her knees in supplication, but at the same time she barely understood all the things she had seen as she passed through that space inbetween Laufey and...wherever she was.
An open mind was a fortress unguarded, as the saying went...but still, did one not have to open the gates to send an army forth? She was far, far too curious to not try and see what she had seen again, hopefully minus the terrible things she was trying very, very hard not to think about.
So she reached out, and nothing happened. Frowning in concentration as she kept walking forward, she tried to reach inwards. Nothing.
She kept trying, nearly giving her a headache as she tried every single possible mental trick to call up that feeling again. And then...she carefully, carefully reached elsewhere.
And the colors sprang to life.
This wasn't seeing, however, far from it. This was much more of a feeling of certainty that transcended the senses. She could feel the burning suns above were filled with Red, while the land beneath her feet was a mix of White and Red. The Spire up ahead had a very, very small pool of Green far below it, so distant she could barely feel it. Life, perhaps? Water? It was hard to tell. Blue was altogether absent here.
But strangely, there was a great mass of Black far beneath the surface of the world, so deep that she wouldn't have felt it if it weren't for the fact it didn't just encompass her patch of the desert, but the entire planet. It wasn't malevolent, however. It was like a dead thing at peace, long buried underneath the white blanket of sand. She could almost feel the colors...reaching out to her. The desert, blasted landscape it may be, was still a thing that existed. And everything that existed had life, of a sort.
The sensation was still disturbing, and served to make her cast her senses elsewhere. She focused them up ahead, searching...it was hard to do, and she nearly stumbled once or twice from the concentration it was taking. But she kept at it, sharpening her senses. Eventually though she dropped it, unable to maintain it. She felt winded, more than just from the effort of walking however.
After a good half hour of walking, she was at the base of the spire. Panting, she made her way towards the side where the sun wasn't beating down on her head and unhooked her canteen and took a drink of it, gulping down a mouthful with glee before resting against the smooth stone for a moment, doing her best to rub the sweat out of her eyes.
Then she rubbed her eyes again, because she couldn't believe what she saw. People! Actual, human people!
They were distant, travelling over a set of dunes at least five minutes minutes away back towards wherever they had come from, but she could easily sprint the distance and meet them.
Gathering her things up, she grabbed hold of her rifle from where she had set it down, and quickly jogged the way, her heart filled with a certain level of hope.
"Hey! Wait!" She called out, trying to get their attention once they were only about a dune away from her. She thankfully caught their attention, the trio of beings coming to a halt to turn around to face her. And, thankfully, they were indeed human.
The one in the center was a female, clearly in command of the group. She had dark brown hair that came down to her ears in a rough style, her violently green eyes examining Avera with a clear look of caution. Oddly enough, this woman was the only one wearing any form of outer coat, which took the form of a roughspun brown cloak that looked almost like something a farm hand would wear as a tunic.
The second female on her left was wearing a much lighter outfit, which Avera at first mistook for being completely immodest, until she realized that the cloth covering the rest of her body was very close to skin tone, perhaps to elicit such a reaction in the first place. It was all made of some sort of leather-like material, the darker portions woven in such a way that it gave structure to the rest of the outfit. It looked practical for comfort, but nearly worthless in terms of protection. The woman gave her a cool gaze, her steel gray eyes almost hypnotic.
The man to the right wore an awfully bright orange jacket and brown trowsers, his hair thinning ever so slightly around the edges. A stern frown framed by a light beard and mustache was firmly afixed to his face, his dark eyes scanning her body in a manner reminiscent of a fellow soldier sizing someone up for a fight.
When she looked again for any weapons they might be carrying, however, all she could see was a small pistol clipped to the man's belt. The women both had some strange looking cylinder attached to their waists, but Avera couldn't determine what exactly they were. All in all, she didn't like her odds if she got into a fight. The pistol was far less bulky than her rifle, and if the two women were packing any firepower, she would be dead before she could shift her aim to the others.
Thankfully, Avera looked more comical in her getup than threatening. She was still clad in her standard issue armor, complete with blocky helmet. It looked entirely uncomfortable to them, not to mention impractical in the hot climate. And, other than the tan pants, the forest green armor provided little concealment in any environment that existed on Tatooine. There was also the matter of the comically oversized blaster rifle she was still cradling in her hands.
"Are you lost?" The leader said, still a bit wary to Avera's eye, but non confrontational. "You're dressed strangely for a mercenary."
"Thaya." The woman to the right said, leaning over to whisper something in the cloaked woman's ear that Avera couldn't hear. The man perked up, clearly interested in the byplay happening in front of him, but maintained his position, keeping his eyes squarely on the unknown in their midst.
The leader, Thaya, straightened up a bit. "I guess since you flagged us down though, you must want something. And since you aren't trying to shoot at us or eat us, which is better than most things in this desert, I'm half inclined to lis-."
As luck would have it, it was precisely at that moment the universe decided that Avera hadn't dealt with enough life threatening things today. A great chorus of howls echoed through the air in a brutish warcry that set her hair on end. Turning around, she saw a small horde of creatures dressed in ragged cloaks cross the dunes with frightening speed. Some of them were brandishing rifles, others wicked looking clubs tapered with spikes.
"Bastila, cover them!" Avera heard Thaya said, springing ahead with incredible speed. With a snap-hiss, a blade of pure green plasma sprang to life in Thaya's hand, deflecting shots from the approaching enemy with a precision that went beyond anything a normal human could do. The movements were fluid, precise, and spoke of a lifetime of dedication.
Avera could only appreciate this for a moment, however, instead opting to scramble out of the way of the oncoming fire, bringing her rifle about to snap off a few shots at their attackers. Some went wide, burning the sand into glass where it connected, but she tore holes in two enemies. The other woman, Bastilla, had a strange double bladed version of that plasma sword (this one curiously enough colored yellow), the tips of the blades whirling about in a defensive dance that covered her and the male, who was plucking away at their enemies with that surprisingly deadly pistol of his.
Watching Thaya cut through the foe like a deadly whirlwind, however, was quite impressive. Her enemies were slaughtered to the last, quickly, precisely. It was combat as an artform, and it made Avera feel...
[] Starstruck.
[] Humbled.
[] Renewed.
[] Thoughtful.
[] Envious.
[] Write in her reaction to the display.
Well, it made her feel like that. And just as suddenly as the attack began, it was over. Their enemies were cut down, and Avera found the other three looking at her again, even more curious than before.
The man glanced at her and huffed. "Never seen a Blaster quite like that before. You mind telling us who you are, and what you're doing in the middle of the Dune Sea dressed up like you're headed to war?"
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GM Note: Here it is, delayed horribly but still. Also, don't forget to write in your reaction to seeing Lightsaber combat for the first time.
Questions, comments, concerns? Feel free to ask. Active discussion is loved. Also, if you can't tell, we're in the Jedi Civil War era, and Thaya is this universe's Revan.
Plan Label
[] Tell them the truth.
[] But leave out the part about the colors.
[] Lie about who you are.[] And just who will you be if not Avera, Imperial Guardswoman? (Write In)
[] You've successfully tapped into your ability to sense the colors. What will you do with it?[] Try and use the color sense again. You haven't used it on people before.
[] Don't. It can dull your other senses, and you can't make mistakes right now.
[] You've felt...something strange, when you touched the land. Should you try to reach out to it again?[] Don't. It can dull your other senses, and you can't make mistakes right now.
[] Yes, you should learn everything you can about your abilities.
[] Neither the time, nor place for that now.
[] Neither the time, nor place for that now.
[] Ask them questions?:
[] Ask no questions. You don't know these people, and while they dont seem like they want to kill you, you're certain they're not your run of the mill citizens of the Imperium.
[] Only ask important ones. You don't know where you are, but you also don't want to give anything away that they don't strictly need to know.
[] Ask many questions. You don't know where you are, or who they are, or what weapons they used, or anything. Play the stupid card to get some information, after all, knowledge is power.
[] Only ask important ones. You don't know where you are, but you also don't want to give anything away that they don't strictly need to know.
[] Ask many questions. You don't know where you are, or who they are, or what weapons they used, or anything. Play the stupid card to get some information, after all, knowledge is power.
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Skill Change:
Mana Sense (0) -> Mana Sense (1)
Skill Discovered
Landbond (0)
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