Another PER levelup, damn this girl has eyes on the back of her head.
Since I'm full up on slots already and Kander is buying the armor, I'll have to give my Industrial Tunic to him.
srry, less than nine questions follow:
* Since Perception is now my tied-for-best stat, wonder if there's anything in particular I could use to harness that. None of the default items or weapons seem to use it directly, would any of the powers from 'enhancements' be likely to be Perception based? If Xeriay doesn't know, she asks Kander for his knowledge.
* Is armor modification possible? Like using parts of the Industrial Tunic to improve the Apprentice Suit without making it heavier? If a vender can do it, do I know where to find them, and if players can do it what stats would it be based on?
* Is the generic Helmet I bought at the start the same as the Guild Helmet the suit is designed to work with? I'd guess not, but it would be convenient if those along with the air tank act as a full spacesuit.
Name: Xeriay Jattle
Appearance: A short and thin teenage girl, with hair bleached grey by the light of a harsh sun. The backs and palms of her hands are tattooed with eyes, and her arms with blades. Doesn't like to talk and jumps at unexpected sounds. She was recruited by a paramilitary cult from a young age and honed her skill with a blade until she was rescued by her adoptive father.
Strength: d8
Dexterity: d8
Endurance: d6
Speed: d10
Knowledge: d4
Wisdom: d8
Perception: d10
Charisma: d4
HP: 32/32
SP: 26/26
Armor: d6 head, d4 rest
Inventory 8/8
Mono-razor: (Spd) (Spd Roll, breaks on 1)
Death Ray: (Dex) (Xd10)
Biogel: (Recover d10 HP)
Autoharness: (Allows automatic movement via filament.)
Arclamp: (Provides bright omnidirectional light.)
Oxygen Mask & Tank: (Allows one to survive in areas with unbreathable atmosphere, presumably. May also explode.)
Helmet: (d6 armor, protects Head)
Apprentice Suit: (1d4 armor, all but head)
-380 cash subtracted for the gun and armor.
Head to the pilot light bar, and look for work. Pay must be at least 280 for me to accept a job. Faster jobs which pay that much would be better than slower jobs with higher pay.
Heal by 1 each turn.
Name: Kander Jattle
Appearance: A heavily built middle aged man with a gentle look in his eyes, that contrasts with a silver scar on the right side of his face which runs from his temple to his chin. He's a veteran of a relatively minor uprising on a border planet, during which time he worked as a low level field officer. He retired most of a decade ago after a severe head injury, and has been living comfortably and quietly off of his earnings from service. He's enjoyed his quiet life, and isn't eager to go on dangerous adventures... but he was more or less begged to go on this expedition by his adoptive daughter, who was a child soldier he rescued during his military service.
Stats:
Str: d8
Dex: d4
End: d4
Spd: d4
Kno: d8
Wis: d4
Per: d10
Cha: d10
HP: 17/20
SP: 32/32
Armor: None!
Items: 6/8
War Drum (1d8 str, +1d12 Cha Buff)
Autoharness
Liquidoplas Bomb
Liquidoplas Bomb
Filament Gun
Small Autocage
---Carries 4 Filament Cartridges, 1 arclamp, 5 bait, 1 stimulant, 1 biogel, 1 logbook
Money: 320
Xeriay and Kander both head off to the Pilot Light after Kander hands the junk dealer a handful of plastic bills.
"Ah," The dealer says as they start to walk away, "Careful about showing yourself in that round the Guild. They have awful bad humor about their gear getting into layman's hands."
With this warning in mind, they head off towards the Pilot Light. The bar is easy enough to find; posters and signs displaying a blue flame with the words "PILOT LIGHT" and an arrow are scattered all around town. The bar itself is aptly named as its built almost dead center of the vernier, directly next to a smoldering pit of fused glass and bubbling plasma. The engine, apparently inoperable but not without power, is leaking a slow geyser of intense energy up through the sands. This plasma and molten silica hotspring is almost entirely ringed by buildings. Most appear to be rough and ready power generators or industrial manufacturing structures which leech energy from the engine to provide basic amenities to the town The Bar is one of a handful of non-industrial buildings, likely some of the first structures constructed here. One, across the way, has a long metal walkway leading out and partially over the plasma spring. Men in glittering silver heat suits can be seen walking along the that path.
The bar itself is very clearly a repurposed spaceship and very little has been done to hide this fact. Scrape away some of the sand and the power cables and hanging flags and signs and it could probably be in orbit within the hour. Its a huge blocky thing, an old freighter or cargo vessel that seems like it was bought and retrofitted into what it is now. Its been painted quite garishly and all kinds of colored prayer flags and grinning effigies hang from its otherwise barren steel walls. Directly above the door is a metal sign shaped like a giant fireball that declares "PILOT LIGHT: TAVERN AND HOTEL". Directly below the sign is a large airlock door -painted to look like a burst of flame- where two men are having an awkward drunken fist fight. They swing a few times before stumbling into a grapple and tumbling off the hastily erected metal stairs and into the sand below. Kander and Xeriay carefully step around these two and into the bar.
The bar, they quickly find out, is actually just the first floor of this ship, the remaining half dozen floors which stretch upwards like stacked sardine cans are all "hotel" rooms. The bar and its dedicated tables takes up only about 20% of the room. The rest is occupied by a stage, another counter off to the opposite side of the room, and a sprawling lounge of chairs, sofas, tables, cushions, hookah pipes, gambling tables, synesthesia booths and hammocks. Nothing matches anything else. A man is playing a guitar on the stage and singing wistfully about a sweetheart from his mother's ship while other prospectors laze about in various states of inebriation. The bar is manned by a robot of some kind which glides about dispensing drinks with a dozen arms like an alcoholic vision of an ancient god. Smoke hangs heavy, the light is dim, and it smells of burning herbs, alcohol, sugar, and sweat.
Kander finds a small table for Xeriay to wait at and heads off in search of work. The counter on the opposite side from the bar turns out to be exactly what he was looking for. A bored looking teenage girl wearing a chaos of colored fabric and gold bangles informs him that this is the "Precipice of Good Works". She speaks in a monotone which directly undermines the rather mythic name. Kander asks for work that pays at least 280 credits, with an emphasis on quick but cheap jobs instead of slow but lucrative ones. The girl flips through a heavy folder of papers, pulling out bundles and setting them in front of Kander.
The first, which pays an even 500, is a request from the "Solar Brotherhood" for testing a new heat suit.
The second is looking for a particular kind of plant from the Engine Jungle to the south. It pays 100 per complete specimen.
The third is looking for a mechanic to help repair a damaged turbine in town.
As Kander reads through the offers Xeriay sits and ponders things in her silent way.
*Xeriay thinks she remembers something about a parasite that might give powers related to that?
*No. I don't have mechanics for this and I feel like its a road to gross abuse due to my lack of planning for it and my well known terrible balancing.
*It isn't. The guild helmet is a fishbowl style space helmet; though made of sturdy plastic not glass. It provides d6 armor for the head and works like an air tank. You can't find them in normal circulation though; you'd have to scav one, get one from someone else who has scav'd it, or kill a guild apprentice and take theirs.
Go buy a Galactic Slugger, then look for a metalworker who could make armor.
Name: Terra Iris
Appearance: A stocky, brooding woman with dark hair and darker eyes
Stats:
Strength: D8
Dexterity: D10
Endurance: D10
Speed: D4
Knowledge: D4
Wisdom: D4
Perception: D4
Charisma: D4
HP: 32
(Max 32)
SP: 16
(Max 16)
Weapons:
Deathray (dex xd10)
Armor:
Helm (d6 head)
Tunic (d6 body and abdomen)
Carry Weight: 8 (7)
Items:
Deathray
Biogel
Arklamp
Industrial Tunic
Helmet
Beartrap (str)
Oxygen mask
Money: 443
With newfound cash in hand Terra heads off in search of a Galactic Slugger. [2] She finds one and buys it for 150 from a local arms dealer. She rests it on her shoulder and heads of in search of someone who can make her some metal armor. [4] Perception leveled up. Near the center of town, directly next to the plasma spring, is a foundry. Most of the building is owned by a single company, Sunfire Metal, but there are also dozens of independent shops and individuals scattered among the crucibles and and lathes. You ask around specifically about metal armor pieces and get directed to a little shop with a sign that simply reads "METAL WORK. REPAIRS AND FABRICATION", no name as such. The owner is a grimy and muscular woman of not insignificant age with a mane of gray-white curly hair barely held out of her face by a bandana. You ask her about armor and she asks if you have materials. She explains that she can make armor out of any scrap metal you want, but most of it will be pretty inferior compared to the high tech composites and synthetics. She says the tunic you have on is probably better protection than the old "Plate" of knights and the like. If you want good armor, you'll need to bring good metal. Or pay her the cost to get some.
Name: Anton Barrick
Description: a generic human male.
Stats:
STR: d10
DEX: d8
END: d8
SPD: d10
KNO: d8
WIS: d6
PER: d10
CHA: d6
HP: 24/36
SP: 30/30
Carry: 6/10
Items:
Helmet (d6 armor, head only)
Therma-Ray (DEX) (d8)
Fragment of the void
Human bone prayer beads
weird crystal shard
Electromagnet module
Money:0
"stay back. we are not here to harm you."
if the thing reacts to my words, continue trying to assuage it. if it charges or attacks, shoot it. if it comes within melee range, punch it.
"Hmm like a bull..."
Silently sidestep back and left to relative safety away from where the machine bull thing could potentially charge (aka the main group)
Climb up, trying to get out of reach above the robot.
Description: Young, mid twenties kid with skinny limbs and body. Ink enthusiast.
Strength d4
Dexterity d10
Endurance d6
Speed d10
Knowledge d4
Wisdom d6
Perception d6
Charisma d4
HP 30
SP 20
Filament Gun (100)
Death Ray (500)
Specimen Container (Damaged Robot Skull) (30)
Filament Cartridge (10)
Cash: 360
"Oh damn!"
Run and take cover in one of the damaged cargo containers, have my therma-ray ready in case the robot makes a run at me.
Name: Hobo Bob
Description: A dirty man with unkempt hair and beard.
Strength: d8
Dexterity: d6
Endurance: d8
Speed: d6
Knowledge: d10
Wisdom: d6
Perception: d10
Charisma: d4
HP: 28/28
SP: 26/26
Weapons:
Therma-Ray: (Dex) (d8)
Thermo-Lash: (End)(1d8, leaps to another enemy for d4 and then d2)
Armour:
Helmet: (d6 armor, protects only the head)
Industrial Tunic: (d6 Armor, protects Torso and Abdomen)
Items: 7/8
Oxygen Tank
Arclamp
Therma-Ray: (Dex) (d8)
Helmet: (d6 armor, protects only the head)
Industrial Tunic: (d6 Armor, protects Torso and Abdomen)
Thermo-Lash: (End)(1d8, leaps to another enemy for d4 and then d2)
Glowing Organ
Money: 0
"Whoa there elk-thing, don't force us to do something you'll regret."
Jim will move 10-15 paces sideways of Anton, and keep his pistol ready to merc the robo-elk
stat points: 0
Name: Jim
Appearance: a young and wiry looking man
Strength: d8
Dexterity: d10
Endurance: d6
Speed: d8
Knowledge: d6
Wisdom: d4
Perception: d6
Charisma: d4
HP: 32/32
SP: 20/20
Armor:
Helmet (d6 Head)
Tunic (d6 abdomen and torso)
Weapons:
Therma-ray (Dex)(d8)
Items:8?/8
Fragment of the void
Therma-ray
Helmet
Arc-Lamp (turned on)
Log Book
Specimen Container
Filament Gun (loaded with filament container)
Websilk Tunic (logo of favorite sportsball team)
Money: 90
-big mean swamp gribbly in the toxic sludge
-Central island can only seem to support simple fungi
-some squid-things ambush people near the shore of the island
--included is a rudimentary description of the creatures behavior and physiology, along with a rough sketch. Size estimates put the beast at 30ft long, including the tentacles
"Electricity and a thumpin'. Best not get on his bad side... but might be too late for that, gwahahaha! Cover or rough ground'll be the next best bet, but make sure to have at it once it charges!"
Put myself between the elkbot and the other members of the group, ideally behind an obstruction of some kind. If it charges, lay into it with my SPACE BAT.
Name: Gambatta Ganyaro
Description: A kooky old man wearing an elaborate martial arts gi under his discount armor. As a proud grandfather and respected martial arts instructor, he's looking forward to retirement. His idea of retirement involves things you're not allowed to do when people are depending on you to be alive.
30/30 HP
24/24 SP
1d6 Strength
1d8 Dexterity
1d10 Endurance
1d6 Speed
-
1d6 Knowledge
1d6 Wisdom
1d6 Perception
1d6 Charisma
Items (5/6):
Industral Tunic (300): 1d6 Torso/Abdomen Armor
Helmet (50): 1d6 Head Armor
Human Bone Prayer Beads (300)
Galactic Slugger (150)
Small Autocage (200)
[5][3]
The group immediately scatters. Anton attempts to use soothing words and gestures while [NO SHEET] and Max scramble away from the group. Max attempts to leap up onto a nearby container to get some height and avoid the charge but can't jump high enough to grab the edge. He settles, after a few exasperated jumps, with running around the corner of a box and peeping out. Bob sprints to the closest open container and squirms through the cracked wall into the interior, disappearing into the darkness within. Jim steps to the side of Anton while Gambatta steps directly in front of Anton and holds his slugger up in a defensive posture.
The mechanical elk stamps a few more times but seems to reconsider its rage as most of its opponents scatter in apparent fear. It clops a few more times, electric horns humming as its head rocks back and forth, and then turns from the group. It coils up and then leaps straight into the air, landing on a box 30 feet away and at least as high up. It turns slightly to look back at the group and then gathers itself up again and bounds out and into the darkness, its red camera eye like a shooting star disappearing into the hazy darkness.