Maelstrom takes place in a steampunk setting where a precious resource called Flagesium powers the remaining bastions of humanity. Flagesium is acquired from a great mine known as the Delve, where raw Flagesium is extracted and moved by rail to the dark industrial city of Dusk. Here it is refined and flown to Elesium to keep the utopian City in the Sky afloat in exchange for clean water, food, and medicine.
This arrangement is necessary due to a perpetual, extremely volatile, toxic canopy called the Maelstrom. The Maelstrom covers the world like a shroud and all of the dark lands beneath it are rendered poisoned and inhospitable to life. The "arrangement" between the dark lands below and the city above has kept civilization alive for centuries, but as is the case with every system, some people have been benefiting from it more than others; and many of those that have been getting the raw end of the deal would like to do something about it...
"Let Elesium tremble at the whisper of revolution. The people have nothing to lose but their chains. They have a world to win." Enoch Solomon Fordham, (The Crimson Circle).
The riots started earlier this morning. A simple workers strike over pay that got out of hand. Unable to contain the violence and mayhem the city watch called in the army and then shit got real. The streets are filled with the din of gunfire, the clash of blades and the horrified screams of the innocent as fire and blood wash across the cobbled streets. You find yourself seeking refuge on the eastern edge of the Centrum, the commercial heart of the city of Dusk. Across the street you spy a warehouse, it's double doors set ajar. This could be the safe haven you were looking for.
Introduce your characters as they make their way across the embattled street to the warehouse interior. Our opening is cinematic, so use what ever talents you have; no dice rolled, no slots used. Be as heroic as you like. This is your opening scene.
A hooded figure sifts through the commotion of the busy street as they make their way into the double doors. A quiet moment passes as they collect themselves at the entrance before quickly taking to the corner of the room, skulking about and getting acquainted with their new surroundings as they slink into themselves.
Syver was covered head to toe in blood and brain matter. Just coming round from a hangover and waking up to this mess he had been cleaving a path through the rioters, very few standing in his way. Those who did simply added to his crimson decorations. As he crashed through an alley, knocking an orc onto their ass. He spotted his refuge to gather his bearings. Charging his mace with holy light he glared down at the orc. "You spilt my drink! I Declare you my enemy!" He slammed his mace down, his vengance fueling his strike as he burst the orcs head open. Before charging straight into the warehouse, knocking guard and rioter alike aside as he slammed through the door with another smite, bursting them wide open.
With the crazed violence happening all around the streets, a slim and agile looking Air Genasi ran through the streets, a metal plated shield help up as he blocks a shot from someone, keeping himself save in the dangerous area.
"**** off you bastard!" The Genasi yells out as he returns the shot, hitting the person in their shoulder which gives him time to duck into a nearby alley. He goes to round before his gun is knocked out of his hands by a new assailant standing in front of him, dagger stuck out.
"Give me yer gold! Or you'll be one less blood vessel closer to death." The robber demanded, but the Genasi was not about to sit back and allow them to take his hard earned money, so quickly batting the persons hand away with his shield, the Genasi grabbed his assailant's face, as lightning starts to crackle in his palm, before a ear piercing scream of pain fills the alley, the Genasi using shocking grasp to fry their face.
The robber falls to the ground before the Genasi wiped the blood off his hand before grabbing his gun. "Damned ass. Almost lost my store, ain't losing my gold." He then quickly takes off, narrowly avoiding some more attacks, some air stopping an attack due to his lineage, before he sees some doors, thinking quick on his feet he runs over and barges into the doors, quickly slamming them shut behind him as he lets out a sigh of relief. Temporarily safe.
Payax you slip into the shadows of the warehouse with practiced ease and make a home amidst the piled crates in the corner of the room. You are so quiet that the rooms two female occupants; a human and a halfling do not notice you enter. You try to ignore the stench of rat piss and sulphur that fills the warehouse as you watch the pair whispering to each other in hushed tones as they weld shut a small metal casket on the ground. You can still hear the muffled sounds of battle outside and are considering your next move when the doors burst open to reveal...
Syver you crash through the doors with eldritch fury to be confronted by the two occupants of the warehouse.
"Who the **** are you?"
"He's a dwarf boss."
"Yes Mender I can see that, but what the **** is he doing here. Well?"
Before you can answer the door slams open and closed again behind you, as;
Rise you run into the room. Before you, you see a bloodstained dwarf, a strange sight in itself, and behind the dwarf a human and a halfling stand staring at you both.
"Did someone send out ******* invites?"
OOC : Over to you three. Katz can enter a post and disrupt the scene when she is ready.
Among the screams and chaos, the clanking of metal against the cobbled street chimed like a soft bell as a figure bobbed in and out of the fray. A red headed dwarf frowned as she, once again, lost sight of the double doored haven. A hiss of steam and several gear changes elevated her momentarily to peek out above the crowd. And right into the backswing of an axe. She lifted her arm to block, sparks flying as metal struck metal. The petite dwarf shivered at the contact, but kept an eye on the satchel tied to the prosthetic arm. The fabric was frayed but didn’t break.
She rushed forward, trying her best to keep it from hitting anything else. A voice yelled after her. With her free, and only, hand, she picked up what she could only hope was a chunk of squished tomato casserole and hurled it behind her. A different voice cried out in disgust. The dwarf continued to barrel through, now pressing her satchel to her chest. Finally, she tackled the haven doors. And smacked right into something - rather someone. But she didn’t care. Instead she dropped to the ground, cursing a storm. Her satchel had finally ripped open, spilling its precious contents of apples and smoked kobold fingers all over the warehouse floor.
“Well I was gonna be polite, but if you’re going to be a racist, you have my full contempt. One more word out of you and you’ll join my paint job.” Syver glares at the boss, before turning to the halfling. ”What’s in the box mender? Gotta be valuable if it’s what you two are here to protect in the city that is entirely going to sh*t.”
The human woman forces a smile, but does not seem intimidated by your words Syver.
"Apologies, stressful times." she gestures toward the doors where the sounds of the riot can still be heard. The halfling flinches under your glare and looks up at the human woman for reassurance before speaking.
"Just a delivery." She stands deliberately in front of the box, "Nothing valuable."
“If it were nothing valuable. You’d have left it behind. You’re protecting it. Which means it had gold. Don’t lie to me halfling.” His glare increases.
"Listen, I would not quite be here at the moment, however, I didn't have much of a damn choice considering the chaos out there! I was on my way to pick up so materials for a commission but now I'm here, and was almost rudely stomped on by that dwarf. Rudely. But I must admit she has good prosthetics, could use some work however." He replied in a prideful tone, putting his revolver back into it's holster, but keeps his shield up.
"Just needed a place to stay safe from outside, and seems I'm not the only one." He says looking at the two dwarven individuals, then at the human and halfing.
Rise lets out a sigh as he turned to the aggressive dwarf. "If I must. Oi, crabby, how about you back off and leave the halfing alone, yeah? She ain't done nothing to you to deserve that kind of look. We're all just looking for refugee."
Maelstrom
Maelstrom takes place in a steampunk setting where a precious resource called Flagesium powers the remaining bastions of humanity. Flagesium is acquired from a great mine known as the Delve, where raw Flagesium is extracted and moved by rail to the dark industrial city of Dusk. Here it is refined and flown to Elesium to keep the utopian City in the Sky afloat in exchange for clean water, food, and medicine.
This arrangement is necessary due to a perpetual, extremely volatile, toxic canopy called the Maelstrom. The Maelstrom covers the world like a shroud and all of the dark lands beneath it are rendered poisoned and inhospitable to life. The "arrangement" between the dark lands below and the city above has kept civilization alive for centuries, but as is the case with every system, some people have been benefiting from it more than others; and many of those that have been getting the raw end of the deal would like to do something about it...
"Let Elesium tremble at the whisper of revolution. The people have nothing to lose but their chains. They have a world to win."
Enoch Solomon Fordham, (The Crimson Circle).
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
FIRE AND BLOOD
The riots started earlier this morning. A simple workers strike over pay that got out of hand. Unable to contain the violence and mayhem the city watch called in the army and then shit got real. The streets are filled with the din of gunfire, the clash of blades and the horrified screams of the innocent as fire and blood wash across the cobbled streets. You find yourself seeking refuge on the eastern edge of the Centrum, the commercial heart of the city of Dusk. Across the street you spy a warehouse, it's double doors set ajar. This could be the safe haven you were looking for.
Introduce your characters as they make their way across the embattled street to the warehouse interior. Our opening is cinematic, so use what ever talents you have; no dice rolled, no slots used. Be as heroic as you like. This is your opening scene.
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
A hooded figure sifts through the commotion of the busy street as they make their way into the double doors. A quiet moment passes as they collect themselves at the entrance before quickly taking to the corner of the room, skulking about and getting acquainted with their new surroundings as they slink into themselves.
Ayy Yo he dead.
Syver was covered head to toe in blood and brain matter. Just coming round from a hangover and waking up to this mess he had been cleaving a path through the rioters, very few standing in his way. Those who did simply added to his crimson decorations. As he crashed through an alley, knocking an orc onto their ass. He spotted his refuge to gather his bearings. Charging his mace with holy light he glared down at the orc. "You spilt my drink! I Declare you my enemy!" He slammed his mace down, his vengance fueling his strike as he burst the orcs head open. Before charging straight into the warehouse, knocking guard and rioter alike aside as he slammed through the door with another smite, bursting them wide open.
With the crazed violence happening all around the streets, a slim and agile looking Air Genasi ran through the streets, a metal plated shield help up as he blocks a shot from someone, keeping himself save in the dangerous area.
"**** off you bastard!" The Genasi yells out as he returns the shot, hitting the person in their shoulder which gives him time to duck into a nearby alley. He goes to round before his gun is knocked out of his hands by a new assailant standing in front of him, dagger stuck out.
"Give me yer gold! Or you'll be one less blood vessel closer to death." The robber demanded, but the Genasi was not about to sit back and allow them to take his hard earned money, so quickly batting the persons hand away with his shield, the Genasi grabbed his assailant's face, as lightning starts to crackle in his palm, before a ear piercing scream of pain fills the alley, the Genasi using shocking grasp to fry their face.
The robber falls to the ground before the Genasi wiped the blood off his hand before grabbing his gun. "Damned ass. Almost lost my store, ain't losing my gold." He then quickly takes off, narrowly avoiding some more attacks, some air stopping an attack due to his lineage, before he sees some doors, thinking quick on his feet he runs over and barges into the doors, quickly slamming them shut behind him as he lets out a sigh of relief. Temporarily safe.
Payax you slip into the shadows of the warehouse with practiced ease and make a home amidst the piled crates in the corner of the room. You are so quiet that the rooms two female occupants; a human and a halfling do not notice you enter. You try to ignore the stench of rat piss and sulphur that fills the warehouse as you watch the pair whispering to each other in hushed tones as they weld shut a small metal casket on the ground. You can still hear the muffled sounds of battle outside and are considering your next move when the doors burst open to reveal...
Syver you crash through the doors with eldritch fury to be confronted by the two occupants of the warehouse.
"Who the **** are you?"
"He's a dwarf boss."
"Yes Mender I can see that, but what the **** is he doing here. Well?"
Before you can answer the door slams open and closed again behind you, as;
Rise you run into the room. Before you, you see a bloodstained dwarf, a strange sight in itself, and behind the dwarf a human and a halfling stand staring at you both.
"Did someone send out ******* invites?"
OOC : Over to you three. Katz can enter a post and disrupt the scene when she is ready.
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
Among the screams and chaos, the clanking of metal against the cobbled street chimed like a soft bell as a figure bobbed in and out of the fray. A red headed dwarf frowned as she, once again, lost sight of the double doored haven. A hiss of steam and several gear changes elevated her momentarily to peek out above the crowd. And right into the backswing of an axe. She lifted her arm to block, sparks flying as metal struck metal. The petite dwarf shivered at the contact, but kept an eye on the satchel tied to the prosthetic arm. The fabric was frayed but didn’t break.
She rushed forward, trying her best to keep it from hitting anything else. A voice yelled after her. With her free, and only, hand, she picked up what she could only hope was a chunk of squished tomato casserole and hurled it behind her. A different voice cried out in disgust. The dwarf continued to barrel through, now pressing her satchel to her chest. Finally, she tackled the haven doors. And smacked right into something - rather someone. But she didn’t care. Instead she dropped to the ground, cursing a storm. Her satchel had finally ripped open, spilling its precious contents of apples and smoked kobold fingers all over the warehouse floor.
"What is this, a freaking Grunt convention?"
"Er boss you told me to tell you when you were being racist."
"Shut the **** up Mender."
"Yes boss."
Rise make a DEX save as the new comer bowls straight into you.
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
“Well I was gonna be polite, but if you’re going to be a racist, you have my full contempt. One more word out of you and you’ll join my paint job.”
Syver glares at the boss, before turning to the halfling.
”What’s in the box mender? Gotta be valuable if it’s what you two are here to protect in the city that is entirely going to sh*t.”
DEX Save: 19
Rise you deftly step aside as the newcomer slams to the ground at your feet, spilling what seems to be food produce everywhere.
OOC: Right then we are all in and the game has begun. Interact and have fun!
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
The human woman forces a smile, but does not seem intimidated by your words Syver.
"Apologies, stressful times." she gestures toward the doors where the sounds of the riot can still be heard. The halfling flinches under your glare and looks up at the human woman for reassurance before speaking.
"Just a delivery." She stands deliberately in front of the box, "Nothing valuable."
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
“If it were nothing valuable. You’d have left it behind. You’re protecting it. Which means it had gold. Don’t lie to me halfling.” His glare increases.
Syver Roll for intimidation.
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
"Listen, I would not quite be here at the moment, however, I didn't have much of a damn choice considering the chaos out there! I was on my way to pick up so materials for a commission but now I'm here, and was almost rudely stomped on by that dwarf. Rudely. But I must admit she has good prosthetics, could use some work however." He replied in a prideful tone, putting his revolver back into it's holster, but keeps his shield up.
"Just needed a place to stay safe from outside, and seems I'm not the only one." He says looking at the two dwarven individuals, then at the human and halfing.
The human woman turns to listen to you Rise, keeping one eye on the aggressive dwarf.
"Fine, it's a free city I guess. How about you earn your keep and calm down your fellow intruder here."
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
8
Rise lets out a sigh as he turned to the aggressive dwarf. "If I must. Oi, crabby, how about you back off and leave the halfing alone, yeah? She ain't done nothing to you to deserve that kind of look. We're all just looking for refugee."
The halfling cringes back from you Syver, clearly terrified.
"It aint gold, honest. Tell him it aint gold boss."
"It aint gold." she confirms in a flat voice, though her eyes show a little more concern than previously.
She reaches into her pocket and plucks out a pouch which she throws to you, "That's gold. Keep it by way of an apology for my rough manners."
Syver the pouch contains 15 gold, that 5 hits of Jenny right there...
DM - Warlock of Firetop Mountain
“Well that is certainly the mark of a damn good day!!” He grins. Taking the pouch. “What’s in the box if it ain’t gold?”