In a dark, distant future, the world died in agony. Missiles rained from the heavens, like the talons of a vengeful god. The seas became flame, and they flooded the four corners of the Earth. The ground shook, and with ravenous maws it swallowed the ancient kingdoms of the old world.
The world died in agony, and it took all things with it.
Save for a few. In a future, darker and more distant still, are the survivors of the Final War. They are the maggots upon the rotting carcass of the world. They are the carrion crows. They are the scavenging beasts.
They are all that remain of humanity.
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Among the maggots, you are mightiest. Among the crows, you are a conqueror. You are greatest among the beasts known as men, and the carcass of the world is yours and yours alone.
This is your tale.
You are:
A. Human. Untouched by taint in some eyes, deemed unworthy in the eyes of others.
B. Manbeast. You are one of the few honored by the bite of the beast, and one of the fewer who can control their gifts.
C. Immortal. Blood is the price of eternal life.
D. Machine. The flesh is weak. Iron is not. You are not.
Your men call you:
A. Warlord. You lead from the forefront, first to fight your foes. Action is the language understood by all.
B. Commander. With words both delicate and savage, you are as much an inspiration as you are a leader.
C. Warlock. The air of the world is suffused with the fumes of dead technology. You are one of the blessed, or cursed, who can control the mysterious winds.
And finally, you hail from:
A. The North. The frozen wastes are home to the warring cyberbarian tribes, where only the strong survive. The arcane laboratories of the past stood in the cold North, and there they still stand.
B. The South. It was here that mankind tried vainly to flee their fate, by building the great ship Babylon to sail the stars. It never launched, but still it pierces the clouds to this day. Here the King in the Sky rules, and holds his court of a thousand warriors from a thousand worlds.
C. The East. The islands are shrouded in mists and jungles, and deep in the heart of the isles, beneath the waves, is a thing older than sin. The East was the only place the War had not touched, for something darker touched it first.
D. The West. In the dead lands of the Setting Kingdom, all know the face of death clearer than their faces in a mirror. The West was the final battle in the Final War, and billions of dead slept there. Until the Sunset King woke them.
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Topic: (SG) Hordes of Darkness (Read 5719 times)