Foreword: Rumors of
my this game's death are
true until now greatly exagerrated. Behold!
(While this is based off of the voted-for character sheet, remember that the given sheet is a
suggestion. Do not automatically assume
anything said in the sheet and not here is true.)
[Previous] Prologue [Next]
You are Jason Argon. Half-elf tiefling. You think your dark purple skin complements your horns and tail. Some people disagree. Those people are wrong.
...
Your satchel falls onto the table. Its clasps are quickly undone to reveal the contents inside. Which... isn't much. A couple of crystals -- strange lights still flowing inside -- scatter across the crude hand-drawn map that had escaped the cloth confines of the satchel first. Food remains securely shoved into the back. A look at the map confirms your location to the best of the map's abilities. It's almost a somber moment as you realize the map is now extraordinarily useless. It did show a collection of landmarks to navigate with. But for whatever reason, they're nothing more than smudged ink on a rapidly-deteriorating medium. No use complaining now. The map did its job, and the "caravan" you got it from is long-gone by now. Your gaze turns away and wanders upwards, exploring the workshop.
Light endlessly pours into the structure, finding its way through a singular gigantic breach spanning across the ceiling and walls. Twisted metal and charred wood line the opening. Clearly the aftermath of some arbitrary pre-Reckoning weapon. Your cloak gently wafts in the firm breeze from outside, where countless pine trees lie under a serene sky. It's still something to appreciate even after so many days spent navigating the landscape. The interior of the shop wasn't spared from whatever created the gash outside. Nothing in the wreckage is even worth attempting to decipher. Your hope is saved when you notice a large canvas cloth draped over something. Minding the jagged metal on the floor, you endeavour to reveal whatever the cloth hides.
Seeing isn't enlightening but rather intriguing. A mess of harsh metal tubing and chambers twisting and winding across each other over and over seemingly without stop nor respite. A lot of time is lost trying to examine this strange contraption, until your eyes catch on a small leather-bound notebook. Strangely hot to the touch, it bears obvious damage from whatever fate befell the workshop. But opening it finally gives you the moment of enlightenment you've spent the day looking for.
It's notes! The notes of an inventor! One of a surprisingly similar mind to you, based by how relatively effortlessly you can read them. Well. Read the
unburned parts. Which are a clear minority to the burned and missing pages.
A lot of the notes are written cryptically or what you can only imagine to be some kind of code. Even more of the notes are missing or annoyingly fragmented due to damage rendering parts unreadable. It'll take time and a lot of external clues to fully understand this stuff, and you doubt it'll teach you everything. But you can tell it has stories to tell.
So far, you think the
thing you found before this notebook is some kind of technology to... move things? It seems to need two reagents to work, and those reagents are not crystals. Water is an obvious match to one of the requirements. You'd need a good amount of it. But the only hint you can discern for the other thing needed is that it's for a fire. Hm.
Whether luck or fate, you can read one particularly expository bit. This person was experimenting with technology completely free of magic. Completely separated from the Weave. Technology that they hoped would be behind the start of a new age.
If nothing else, it's inspiring.
...
You stretch your arms out and rotate yourself to lift pressure off of your tail, slowly realizing you've just woken up. The canvas repurposed as a shelter is already failing its job. Your satchel is still here. The notebook, right next to you where it was when you fell asleep. Your mind finds itself filled with the same inspiration as yesterday. You can start something new, can't you?
The rising sun shines through the old workshop's scar to fall upon your face. It's the dawn of a new day.
A half-elf tiefling; born with a pair of horns, dark purple skin, and a tail.
Hunger satiated;
Thirst quenched.
Satchel- [2x] [Food] Salted Venison
- [2/2] [Hydration] Small Canteen, Fresh Water
- [1x] Inventor's Notebook
- [2x] Crystal
A small-ish structure made out of wood and maybe metal. Has a huge gash in its side, about half as big as the shop itself. Most of it is wreckage, but has a strange metal machine sitting inside.
Author
Topic: What Comes After [SG] - Day 2, 10:30 AM (Read 3940 times)