Post by TheUdjat on Aug 6, 2007 15:24:05 GMT -5
In the Southern jungles of Mayahuel...
I ran out of the ziggurat, ghouls practically nipping at my heels. Damned necromancy. I still felt the poison from the temple’s trap coursing through my veins, burning through my limbs and fingers, but I forced myself to ignore it. If I hesitated even a moment, the ghouls would catch me, consume me, and the ivory dagger in my hand would once again be lost to the ages.
As things stood I was skirting the edge of the disaster – the sun had been setting for the better part of an hour, and once its light was gone, the sixty days of darkness due to follow would not have kind things in store for me. The airship would only wait while it was daylight out, and I could hardly blame them for that. Even in civilized country the Endless Night was something to be wary of. Here in the savage lands, it was suicide.
I listened to the unnatural steps of the ghouls behind me, too quick for such heavy, sluggish bodies. I pulled my revolver from its holster and fired a quick set of shots behind me – they were desperate, and most would probably miss, but if even one caught a ghoul I’d be content. It was a shame to squander enchanted bullets like that, but desperate times called for desperate measures. My transmuter friend would find it in his heart to forgive me.
If I made it back in time.
I fired the gun until it clicked to empty, then tossed it aside. The jungle was looming closer, and I needed the hand free for my machete. I hit the treeline like one of the dire bears the hunters dream of in the frozen North, tearing and hacking at vines and undergrowth impeding my path. I could hear less footsteps behind me, but even one or two ghouls would be enough to kill me. I ignored thorns scraping at me, thin branches whipping at my face, and the infernal poison tingling in my toes. I forced myself on to the rendezvous point, the small clearing on a hill. I was almost there...
And then, with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the lights dimmed around me. Night had fallen.
I sprinted faster, as fast as I could manage, hearing my poisoned blood thrum in my ears. I stumbled into the clearing half-mad, whipping the machete around me like a frightened beast. But there was nothing there. I looked up, spying the airship high overhead, its rope ladder still dangling down – but too far away to reach. I was too late.
A chuckle slipped out with my sanity. I looked around, spying eyes glimmering at me from the nearby treeline. Ghouls? No, I couldn’t hear their undead footsteps any longer. These were other beasts, things only murmured about in ports and pubs to impress less traveled men. But these things were real. And they were hungry.
Of course they were hungry. They’d been sleeping for sixty days of daylight. Now it was their turn to roam the land.
I laughed quietly to myself, somehow amused at the doom closing in around me. The light continued to fade, and my vision with it. I felt the poison weakening me, but I knew with a cold chill that it wouldn’t be enough to leave me dead. These beasts would still take me, and what they had in store for me...
I looked at the ivory dagger, the prize I had claimed from the ancient ziggurat. Yes. It was the best way.
I plunged the dagger into my chest and watched as the red blood tainted the white purity of the blade. I stared at it dumbly for a moment, and remembered thinking how strange it was that the weapon didn’t hurt. In fact, the burning in my veins had stopped, replaced by a freezing cold that numbed me.
My eyes focused on a small symbol on the weapon’s handle, something I hadn’t noticed before. It was a symbol I dimly recognized as something related to necromancy. I couldn’t quite say what, though.
Necromancy. I winced. What a fool I’d been.
A voice filled my head, whispering through it like the hiss of a finely crafted sword. “You freed me,” it said.
The words came out of my lips before I could think about them. “Yes... Master...” Then the last of my free will fled me, and there was nothing left. Nothing but a shell.
Venusian Skies is a campaign setting I've been toying around with for a while. Moroth's recent 1880's venture reminded me of it, and in a sudden burst of inspiration... Here it is.
The world is not unfamiliar to any of us - it takes place on Venus, terraformed at some point in the distant past. But the inhabitants know nothing of this - it is the only world they have ever known, and for all they know the only world that possesses life in their entire universe. Stories about space travel are the thing of fiction, or ancient mythology.
The civilized portion of Venus resembles the Victorian era in Great Britain, at least in spirit. The nation-empire of Aphrodite has been the de facto ruler of the world for a long time now, and has imposed a kind of peace throughout it - even in the distant, savage colonies overseas. A golden age of magic and technology has risen, with philosopher-alchemists researching ancient formulae and mechanical geniuses building ships that soar the skies. It is a time of wonders and exploration.
But it is also a world of dangers. There are murmurs of rebellion in some of the provinces and colonies under Aphrodite's mighty grip, and then there's always the dangers of Night. For the days on Venus pass slowly, and things that go bump in the night have a lot of time to work with. Even in the heart of the empire, only the foolish venture out at night without caution.
In short, it's sort of a Victorian-era mix of fantasy and steam-punk. Explorers in the style of Allan Quatermain test the boundaries of the known world, and the Hermetic Order of Golden Dawn tests the limits of the metaphysical world. It would use the d20 Modern system (somewhat altered for the time period), with contributions from Urban Arcana.
It's a work in progress, but I thought I'd get some input from the myriad minds on the boards, here. So what do you think? Plausible, or way too out there?
I ran out of the ziggurat, ghouls practically nipping at my heels. Damned necromancy. I still felt the poison from the temple’s trap coursing through my veins, burning through my limbs and fingers, but I forced myself to ignore it. If I hesitated even a moment, the ghouls would catch me, consume me, and the ivory dagger in my hand would once again be lost to the ages.
As things stood I was skirting the edge of the disaster – the sun had been setting for the better part of an hour, and once its light was gone, the sixty days of darkness due to follow would not have kind things in store for me. The airship would only wait while it was daylight out, and I could hardly blame them for that. Even in civilized country the Endless Night was something to be wary of. Here in the savage lands, it was suicide.
I listened to the unnatural steps of the ghouls behind me, too quick for such heavy, sluggish bodies. I pulled my revolver from its holster and fired a quick set of shots behind me – they were desperate, and most would probably miss, but if even one caught a ghoul I’d be content. It was a shame to squander enchanted bullets like that, but desperate times called for desperate measures. My transmuter friend would find it in his heart to forgive me.
If I made it back in time.
I fired the gun until it clicked to empty, then tossed it aside. The jungle was looming closer, and I needed the hand free for my machete. I hit the treeline like one of the dire bears the hunters dream of in the frozen North, tearing and hacking at vines and undergrowth impeding my path. I could hear less footsteps behind me, but even one or two ghouls would be enough to kill me. I ignored thorns scraping at me, thin branches whipping at my face, and the infernal poison tingling in my toes. I forced myself on to the rendezvous point, the small clearing on a hill. I was almost there...
And then, with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the lights dimmed around me. Night had fallen.
I sprinted faster, as fast as I could manage, hearing my poisoned blood thrum in my ears. I stumbled into the clearing half-mad, whipping the machete around me like a frightened beast. But there was nothing there. I looked up, spying the airship high overhead, its rope ladder still dangling down – but too far away to reach. I was too late.
A chuckle slipped out with my sanity. I looked around, spying eyes glimmering at me from the nearby treeline. Ghouls? No, I couldn’t hear their undead footsteps any longer. These were other beasts, things only murmured about in ports and pubs to impress less traveled men. But these things were real. And they were hungry.
Of course they were hungry. They’d been sleeping for sixty days of daylight. Now it was their turn to roam the land.
I laughed quietly to myself, somehow amused at the doom closing in around me. The light continued to fade, and my vision with it. I felt the poison weakening me, but I knew with a cold chill that it wouldn’t be enough to leave me dead. These beasts would still take me, and what they had in store for me...
I looked at the ivory dagger, the prize I had claimed from the ancient ziggurat. Yes. It was the best way.
I plunged the dagger into my chest and watched as the red blood tainted the white purity of the blade. I stared at it dumbly for a moment, and remembered thinking how strange it was that the weapon didn’t hurt. In fact, the burning in my veins had stopped, replaced by a freezing cold that numbed me.
My eyes focused on a small symbol on the weapon’s handle, something I hadn’t noticed before. It was a symbol I dimly recognized as something related to necromancy. I couldn’t quite say what, though.
Necromancy. I winced. What a fool I’d been.
A voice filled my head, whispering through it like the hiss of a finely crafted sword. “You freed me,” it said.
The words came out of my lips before I could think about them. “Yes... Master...” Then the last of my free will fled me, and there was nothing left. Nothing but a shell.
Venusian Skies is a campaign setting I've been toying around with for a while. Moroth's recent 1880's venture reminded me of it, and in a sudden burst of inspiration... Here it is.
The world is not unfamiliar to any of us - it takes place on Venus, terraformed at some point in the distant past. But the inhabitants know nothing of this - it is the only world they have ever known, and for all they know the only world that possesses life in their entire universe. Stories about space travel are the thing of fiction, or ancient mythology.
The civilized portion of Venus resembles the Victorian era in Great Britain, at least in spirit. The nation-empire of Aphrodite has been the de facto ruler of the world for a long time now, and has imposed a kind of peace throughout it - even in the distant, savage colonies overseas. A golden age of magic and technology has risen, with philosopher-alchemists researching ancient formulae and mechanical geniuses building ships that soar the skies. It is a time of wonders and exploration.
But it is also a world of dangers. There are murmurs of rebellion in some of the provinces and colonies under Aphrodite's mighty grip, and then there's always the dangers of Night. For the days on Venus pass slowly, and things that go bump in the night have a lot of time to work with. Even in the heart of the empire, only the foolish venture out at night without caution.
In short, it's sort of a Victorian-era mix of fantasy and steam-punk. Explorers in the style of Allan Quatermain test the boundaries of the known world, and the Hermetic Order of Golden Dawn tests the limits of the metaphysical world. It would use the d20 Modern system (somewhat altered for the time period), with contributions from Urban Arcana.
It's a work in progress, but I thought I'd get some input from the myriad minds on the boards, here. So what do you think? Plausible, or way too out there?
