Thanks, ptw.
The only thing I'm concerned about is what I worship. 
Yes...
Supposedly the name means "seed"... which I suppose is somewhat accurate... lol
Note: The majority of this post is just for storytelling purposes... I honestly feel it sucks, but whatever.
The save is here:
http://dffd.wimbli.com/file.php?id=6232Best of luck to the next overseer.
(also, the watchbridge could use being replaced with flooring and fortifications, but it'll serve its purpose pretty well.)
EDIT: Just noticed, I have the wrong troops training at the archer's barracks - The Ageless Constructs is a melee squad, and The Beautiful Channels is ranged... It should be The Beautiful Channels training at the archery ranges/barracks, and the Ageless Constructs training in the melee barracks, not the other way around. Next overseer will need to fix that.
From the recordclip of Talvieno ControltradesYou sit down in the chair to wait for the recordclip to switch itself to the next track, but it never does. With a soft fizzle and a whir, the mechanisms within grind to a halt, and the only sound within the room is that of your own breathing.
Fortunately you have some knowledge of ancient mechanoelectronics, and you pick the device up to see what you can do with it. Within a few minutes, you've managed to thoroughly confuse yourself with the inner workings of the clip, and not knowing what else to do, you close it back up and gently tap it against the table. This seems to do the trick, as it clicks back on. Following a particularly loud burst of static, you hear the familiar voice of Talvieno Controltrades speaking. The whispering static, however, doesn't seem to go away.
"This is the last - yes, last - audiolog of Talvieno Controltrades. Um... Certain things have happened since the last time - since my last entry, I mean - it makes it impossible for me to continue given the state of things. I am also resigning from my duties as overseer and leaving it up to the hivers to choose who will succeed me." As you listen, you can't help but wonder why he sounds like he does - he sounds depressed, like he's lost everything that matters to him... but also like he has some great and terrible decision to make.
"I don't regret what's happened, no. Well... Okay, perhaps I do a bit. I don't for a moment regret marrying my wife, Specula, or my three children... But I do regret some of the things that have come to pass... But perhaps I skip ahead of myself. I'll recommence where I left off last."He continues in a slightly louder tone, and due to fluctuations in his voice you get the impression that he's pacing. You don't fail to note, however, that his old accent is completely gone. You only wish it was a little easier to hear him over the sound of the static.
"The cave spore incident was horrible, yes, with many of our citizens dropping their work due to fevers, high temperatures and curious rashes. Fortunately our physicians knew their trade well and treated them appropriately, and they were promptly sent back to their professions. The cave spores also managed to replenish our food supply, by way of cave flesh - processed and cooked 'meat' from the large spores, edible, though not delicious. It was a quick fix to our rapidly diminishing food supplies.
"For the majority of the rest of the year, not much happened, really. Our, um... hrm... We dug out a new chamber for burial, only to discover that I'd forgotten the burial receptacles within the temple, as I ashamedly admit I haven't been in there much for the past year. The temple is also only three meters in height... Perhaps my successor can manage to increase the height another three to nine meters... It insults the higher powers as it is."So long as I was building catacombs, I ordered a small tomb to be constructed for myself, and my wife and children. In case we die, I don't want us to be entombed with the lessers of this community - no offense to them, of course... Rather, I believe my status ought to stand for something. It's nothing large, nothing grand... Just a place to rest... and Emperor knows, I need a place to rest... depending on what happens here tonight, I may or may not need that resting place sooner than I'd like."And here I am... Standing atop the diminuative spire of Entrypages." He pauses, and you realize that it's not static you hear, but the sound of the wind.
"Pacing back and forth, back and forth, atop the watchtower bridge that extends over the moat. But I'll go back a bit with my storytelling, perhaps... Specula was right. Augh, one moment..." In a louder tone he says,
"Yes, what is it, Verbero?"The sound of someone else's voice whispers from the recordclip, muffled by the ever-present wind, and you are suddenly siezed with the desire to stand where the mysterious overseer had once stood. Standing from the chair, you leave Talvieno's office, striding through the ancient dining room and passageways until you stand upon the roof, listening to the short but heated debate between Talvieno and Verbero. It finally ends, but not before you yourself stand before the watchbridge, upon which soldiers from ages past would post themselves to fire upon enemy combatants; upon which Talvieno himself had stood, making his last log in the device held in your hand.
Verbero leaves, and you hear Talvieno continue.
"It's the first day of the new year, my duties are supposedly up by now... augh... But no. Where was I... Um... Okay... Ah, yes, now I remember. "Specula was right. These audiologs were helping my memory. My mind was fogged - I had been mentally conditioned to avoid looking into the past farther than a few weeks, by outside forces. The recordclip... yes, this little recordclip, an anniversary present... the task of recording my thoughts into it - forcing myself to look back months at a time, helped to gently remove that fog... I began to remember who I was... or rather, who I had become... The visions were not visions, but memories of things that had been... Things that had been erased from my mind."When I arrived at this planet, marooned above the outer layers of the atmosphere, I was... somewhat uneducated in my manner of speaking - I sounded much the same as I did during my earlier entries on this clip. However... I did not drift long before a ship approached - a ship of the House Delaque. For reference purposes, the House Delaque in the hive cities specializes in undercover warfare, espionage, spies, intelligence collection and covert operations... It was chance that they happened upon me... but they offered my salvation in return for my services."I was something they needed. The House Delaque could not simply send one of their own out into the underhives - some underhivers had mutated in the sump, gaining psychic abilities... They would be able to tell if one from the House Delaque had arrived in their midst - at least, that was what I was told... But an outsider - someone that the underhivers would automatically assume to be incompetent... They - well, I, really - could infiltrate the underhive without being detected. And thus with this plan, my training began. I was taught to drop my old accent, so I would blend in better with the common worker. I was physically trained to be in peak condition... waging war in various battles across the surface. I became the commander of a melee squad, armed with sawpikes, chainswords and the like... thus my military memories... I was taught the Holy Way, so that my heart might not falter - so that I would have faith... I would later forget, and I regret that now...""Afterwards I was trained to withstand torture and interrogation, and my mental abilities were increased through telepathic tweaking to where they are today... and all the while I was being brainwashed... They tried to keep me from things that might cause me to remember my old home - groves of trees, for example... Oh, and that reminds me, we're doing well as far as logs go, we have close to a hundred, despite my neglect on ordering them to not be used for beds. But anyway..."Following that I was sent to a deteriorating hive city... Yes... " He pauses for a moment and laughs, albeit somewhat sadly. You look out over the watchbridge where he had stood, wondering why he seems so depressed.
"Yes, I'd been within a hive city and I never even remembered... And it was there that I met Specula... sweet, sweet girl... We had a child... But it was my job. I wasn't supposed to fall in love... I wasn't supposed to care about her, only pretend, only act, only play the part of a husband... but... I failed..." His voice sounds near to breaking, and you walk forwards, sitting down on the edge of the watchbridge and letting your feet dangle over the side. The courtyard five stories below you is depressingly empty, and you wonder how it must've looked hundreds of years ago, back in Talvieno's day, busy with the bustle of everyday life.
He presses on.
"Yes, I failed. I fell in love. Two years ago I was ordered to move to Entrypages by the Delaques. My job was to take the fortress down from the inside. With the prediction of an economic depression it was expected that thousands would attempt to migrate out of the hive cities, thus leaving fewer people to tax... My job was to make sure that that couldn't happen... I was supposed to sabotage the young hive, kill everyone within, make it look as natural as possible, and cause people to have second thoughts about moving out. I never told Specula... I've still never told Specula who I really am... or, rather... who they made me. I always kept my old Scartorian accent when I was around her - she never knew. I've lied to her throughout our entire marriage."And I was going to do it, too. I was going to sabotage the defenses, and a Delasque-paid scavvy raid would wipe out everyone in here - except for my family. But then, when we arrived, and saw the tiny spire of the new hive on the horizon, Specula looked so happy... She was excited - a 'chance at a new beginning', she called it... and for a second time, I failed... I couldn't bring myself to destroy it... and knowing what my fate would be for disobeying the high command, I brought myself here... to the peak of the spire... Just like I have now. Rather than have my family killed with me, I would kill myself. But I didn't die... I... I..." His voice trails away slowly as he speaks, deep in thought, until it is but a whisper against the wind,
"I don't remember why. But now it's happening again, just as it did two years ago... Just the same way.""I wish I could watch this hive grow older... I wish I could watch as the peak grows towards the clouds, breaking them, and then the outer layers of the atmosphere, miles upon miles above the ashen plains below... I wish I could see what my successors decide to do with the temple, I wish I could watch as my children grow older, and marry... Sweet little Littia...
His voice grows quieter, but tenser - more urgent. For a moment the sound of the ancient winds fade, and his voice over the recordclip becomes a bit clearer.
"Specula, when you listen to this I need you to do something for me. Put aside your grief, there's no need to cry for me - I'm not the man you thought I was. I'm a montster. But there's something I need you to do. In my office, on the wall left of the desk there's an engraving you did of a carrion bat - do you remember that? Beneath the engraving a rockcrete chest is bolted to the floor, and beneath the chest there is a key. Take this key to Littia's bedroom - above her bed there is a many-pointed star engraved onto the wall - but it's not an engraving. Turn it to the right ninety degrees, and then to the left forty-five - a keyhole should appear. Insert the key and turn it - a large panel of the wall will swing open, and behind it... behind it lies the device that's keeping me in telepathic connection to the House Delasque. You need to destroy it, lest they lock onto you or the children. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know you won't ever forgive me for any of this, but I always hated I lied to you - I always hated what I did. I regret it now, and I love you, sweet, sweet Specula. I've never regretted for a moment the time I've spent with you. I know you'll never forgive me, but... don't let them take you. Goodbye, Spe -"Suddenly he stops speaking, you hear him hyperventilating, and moments later he yells in pain through clenched teeth.
"Ahhhhhhh! My head! Someone... inside... no... no!!!" His voice fades rapidly and you hear the whoosh of air as the recordclip falls to the ground, intermixed with a shrieking scream from Specula - you hear her rapid footsteps across the unsteady bridge and suddenly a loud crack as the recordclip hits the ground, so many years ago, and then... silence. Cupped in your hands, the recordchip shuts itself off for the last time, and try as you might, you can't get it to turn back on.
Standing, you leave the spire, traveling back down into Talvieno's old office - to the left of the desk there is an engraving of a carrion bat in the rockcrete wall, and beneath it lies a chest. Throwing your weight against it, you manage to break the bolts beneath, and you wrench it out of its position, uncovering a tiny key. You take it with you as you walk through the artfully engraved hallways to the old, childhood room of Littia, and you open the heavy door carefully.
Cobwebs are everywhere, and small toys litter the shelves and the floor. The bed is made, but moth-eaten and covered in a thick layer of dust. Gently you put your knee on it for support, and above the head of the bed you place your hands upon the large, many-pointed star. With effort, you rotate it to the right, then to the left, and a keyhole is revealed. Unlocking it, you swing open the wall panel to reveal a small shelf behind it, completely empty but for a broken device, smashed beyond recognition, and a piece of tearstained, ancient, yellowed paper, barely holding itself together. With the greatest care you pick it up, and holding it to the light you read what was written so many years ago:
"I forgive you.
~ Specula"
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Topic: Adcessuspagina: Warhammer 40k mod Succession Game (Looking for players) (Read 21433 times)