Onions Are Like Worms

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

TATAR!

 Hallo!

 Hru?

 Good, you?

 decentish. had a couple of bad days.

 Aw. That's sad. What happened?

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

TATAR!

 Hallo!

 Hru?

 Good, you?

 decentish. had a couple of bad days.

 Aw. That's sad. What happened?

 Lotta things.

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

TATAR!

 Hallo!

 Hru?

 Good, you?

 decentish. had a couple of bad days.

 Aw. That's sad. What happened?

 Lotta things.

 Aw. I hope what those things are doesn't repeat.

Thank you!

Quote from Furrybeardedmonk_198654 >>

Quote from Tana___ >>

I figured. DDB is really quiet now. 

 I’m still watching…

 But are you watching... THIS?! *smoke bomb followed by Expeditious Retreat*

*Uhm here's the description for the train thing if we want any mods:

 We'll need to work on mechanics, like your 'Altered Form', basic traits that carry over in and out Altered Form, a few basic statblocks for the form, and a few traits only in Altered Form. My idea is add that to an average 2014 dnd character, and maybe choose some humaniods as types of guards and scientists, or give them their own statblocks.

Add mechanics for changing the form.

Add some more lore.

Add other stuff :D*

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

*Uhm here's the description for the train thing if we want any mods:

The Steelway Railway:

 

The gears click, shifting with a heavy, rhythmic grind as the bituminous coal burns in the massive fireboxes ahead. The soot-choked air inside the carriage vibrates. The iron floor plates beneath your feet violently shatter the quiet, a warning tremor before a loud, pressurized hiss of steam escapes from the lower pistons. The train has broken down. Again.

Around you, the masked caretakers grunt in absolute frustration. You watch from your seat as their copper-rimmed goggles rapidly fill up with grey moisture and sweat. Their gas masks give off a rhythmic, mechanical hiss as they sigh, their shoulders slumping into the damp, chemical-thick air that constantly hangs inside the cars.

Suddenly, the heavy iron partition doors slam open with a deafening clang. The guards pour into the narrow aisle, their advanced, custom-tooled rifles raised and pointed straight at your chest. One armed guard stations themselves directly in front of each person, while extra sentries line the perimeter walls. Their fingers rest lightly on the triggers of sawed-off shotguns, waiting in case multiple of you try to make a desperate move in the confusion.

The head caretakers walk back into the cabin, nodding coldly to the security detail. Without a single word of warning, a guard steps forward, baring his teeth in silent malice. He hits you directly in the face with the heavy, unyielding wooden butt of his rifle before walking away. Simultaneously, a female guard kicks you brutally in the calf, instantly tripping you onto the floor. Before you can even register the pain, she slams her heavy, steel-toed shoes straight into your face.

The copper taste of blood wells up in your mouth. You lie there on the metal floor as the guards finally march out, trailing the heavy scent of gun oil, sweat, and wet wool. When all the guards leave, you wipe your chin with a shaking hand and slowly force yourself back up.

 

You didn’t want to be here. Maybe you didn’t even know why; but you sure do now. You see, you ain’t a normal person. It was several years after the War of 1812 that this society began. Travelling between Canada and the USA. They were afraid, afraid that another war might happen. So they tested out several weapons, some for mutilating enemy soldiers, some for benefit. They did this in several woods. Sometimes when people would wander, they would capture and test on them; or sometimes people got unlucky. If you had to breathe in any of the positive, HBIF—derivative from certain hormones found in people, and from Vitrified Celium and the Myco-Viral Matrix—before you had any of the negative, RSDA, you became a strange thing known as an Experiment.

 

You are entering The Steelway Railway in 1870, approximately. You got made into what you are now between the years of 1815 and 1820. When discovered by newsies and whistleblowers in 1824–1830, you watched as they killed so many newsies, just to keep a secret. And some of you escaped into the woods, as did similar; some rabid, parasite-ridden things, through the same experiment with different results, hunted down the staff, and are being hunted by them. Some just like you, same result; shot. In 1825 to 1840 you might’ve been in the first facility; or frozen in the woods, before the Great Freezing of 1840, thawing many, and bringing all to facility cryo-stations, in rippling heat. Again, bringing many to their grave, against the sand, against the prairies, blood everywhere. But the surviving Experiments froze till now, all being loaded on the train; again, some deaths involved on the dusty ground near the cedars, larches, and spruce of these old plains.

 

You listen to the caretakers when they think you are too drugged to understand, but a lot of what you know comes from the hushed gossip shared among your fellow Experiments during quiet hours. You might have caught passing whispers of terms like Alibium, GMPM, HPOM, Celium, Superium, Telium, Myco-Viral Matrix, and Lethium, but all of it really means absolutely nothing to you, of course. They are just cold, clinical words talked about by your masked tormentors, in context you are yet to fully understand.

The stories you've been told change partially to entirely depending on who is talking. One caretaker, brazen and confident murmurs that Alibium and Superium are entirely different ores mined from separate craters, while another, calm, and methodical swears they are the exact same heavy element, just renamed by the government to throw off inspectors. A fellow Experiment whispered to you that the Myco-Viral Matrix is a natural biological mold found on deep-swamp trees, somewhere in Florida, while another argues it was completely manufactured in an engine room beaker. You suspect GMPM and HPOM are groups of modified people—maybe some are perfect soldiers, maybe some are complete failures like the things howling in the woods, in pain all night, scaring the people that trap you here.

But you don't know for sure, and you most likely won't. You have no way of knowing; how would you know? You are fundamentally confused, piecing together a puzzle that you have nothing for. You might be entirely wrong about every single thing you think you know; you could be. The drugs they pump into your system keep your thoughts fractured, making it impossible to separate truth from the lies whispered across the shared rooms.

 

For brief moments, when the soot clears, you can peer through the narrow, reinforced glass slits of the train cars. Right now, the train is rolling past the warm, sweeping grasslands of Ontario. The sight out the window is a cruel contrast to the interior around you; you can see the sun beating down on golden fields, waves of heat rising off the fertile earth, and the distant silhouettes of wild deer leaping away from the tracks.

But the view is always ruined. As the engine roars through the fields, the massive cowcatcher clears the path, and the lower vents spew that rotting waste gas. You watch as the lush green grass bordering the iron tracks instantly wilts, turns black, and rots into sludge within seconds of the train passing, leaving a scar of dead earth right through the heart of the beautiful prairie.

 

But that’s just your life. Isn’t it, hmm?

 

The Train

 

A massive silvery beast, its locomotive a 4-6-4 with a giant cowcatcher, always secreting a gas that seems to rot away grass on the tracks. The train is 20 feet wide, 300 feet long, and 30 feet tall, with 15,000 square feet that anyone can stand on. Whilst being 4-6-4, the locomotive has many visual traits more common in 2-4-2 trains, all helping with the ornate look, as even the light has a sleek and elegant few metal curves. The locomotive is 50 feet long and 20 feet tall, and about as wide as the wheels are spaced out, 15 feet. The cars number 6, each one split into three to seven sections, each one 40 feet long, all ornate.

 

The vertical and social segregation of the train is absolute, built like a bizarre cross between a crappy modern college dormitory and an older, lower-class train, but injected with a strange layer of forced, upper-class comfort. They keep the lower levels deceptively comfortable so that the Experiments don't completely lose their sanity and stage a desperate, violent rebellion that would get the staff killed.

Down on Floor 1, the rooms are surprisingly decent, fitted with remarkably soft, plush pillows on the beds. The second and third cars house the Experiments' shared dorms, where three people are assigned to each tight space. The first car on Floor 1 contains a few extra three-person dorms and the Experiments' dining hall—a space fitted with nice tables and nice chairs, though it is a slightly larger, lower-quality hall with a distinctly grim, grease-stained atmosphere compared to the upper decks. The fourth car is engineered with a modular design; it can be easily separated from the third car using quick-release pressure hitches, built specifically in case the staff needs to expand the living space for more experiment dorms or quickly quarantine a sudden biological flare-up.

Up on Floor 3 of all the cars lives the train staff. This top level is where the caretakers and guards have their luxury dorms, and it contains their clean, well-stocked dining hall, in which they eat, and their personal stage on that hall, where they plan out your trials. You are absolutely forbidden from entering Floor 3, save for the staircases found in Cars 4-6, where Floor 3 houses the active testing laboratories and observation decks that you are dragged into when it is time to be experimented on.

The track massive, winding system itself forms an immense web that dictates your entire existence. The actual physical railway loops. The actual length of the railways span a total of 14,000 KMs throughout the continent. This vast network was formed by dividing it up into a main 1,000 KM corridor for local travel, with the convoluted set of secret passages making up 6,500 KM in total that stretch westward to loop across Canada and the United States, crossing back and forth across borders frequently before heading into a 1,000 KM long straight shot to the southeast until reaching another great corridor that stretches another 5,500 KM eastward, continuing to snake along both nations' borders frequently to keep the moving facility hidden from prying eyes.

 

(If we get some mods, we can work on the description more, flesh out the train, and make mechanics for the forms and stuff)

(We will add tables for randomness and that will probably be mentally damaging to your characters yay :D)

(And more stuff maybe :P)

 

 We'll need to work on mechanics, like your 'Altered Form', basic traits that carry over in and out Altered Form, a few basic statblocks for the form, and a few traits only in Altered Form. My idea is add that to an average 2014 dnd character, and maybe choose some humaniods as types of guards and scientists, or give them their own statblocks.

Add mechanics for changing the form.

Add some more lore.

Add other stuff :D*

 bailableaksbalasmkasllopoaml

One day...

...We might need...

...A rebirth...

...Should we heed?...

...For all to see...

...How great Mr Sir Snugglemurder...

...Can be...

...I say

Hey guys, just checking in to make sure you guys don’t think I’m dead, not ready to fully return, but I’ll be back soon

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

One day...

...We might need...

...A rebirth...

...Should we heed?...

...For all to see...

...How great Mr Sir Snugglemurder...

...Can be...

...I say

https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/231115-cult-of-cults1234567890poiuytrewqasdfghjklmnbvcxzqazwsxedcrfvtgbyhnujmikolp

 

 YEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssss!

Bring Snugglemurder back!

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

*Uhm here's the description for the train thing if we want any mods:

The Steelway Railway:

 

The gears click, shifting with a heavy, rhythmic grind as the bituminous coal burns in the massive fireboxes ahead. The soot-choked air inside the carriage vibrates. The iron floor plates beneath your feet violently shatter the quiet, a warning tremor before a loud, pressurized hiss of steam escapes from the lower pistons. The train has broken down. Again.

Around you, the masked caretakers grunt in absolute frustration. You watch from your seat as their copper-rimmed goggles rapidly fill up with grey moisture and sweat. Their gas masks give off a rhythmic, mechanical hiss as they sigh, their shoulders slumping into the damp, chemical-thick air that constantly hangs inside the cars.

Suddenly, the heavy iron partition doors slam open with a deafening clang. The guards pour into the narrow aisle, their advanced, custom-tooled rifles raised and pointed straight at your chest. One armed guard stations themselves directly in front of each person, while extra sentries line the perimeter walls. Their fingers rest lightly on the triggers of sawed-off shotguns, waiting in case multiple of you try to make a desperate move in the confusion.

The head caretakers walk back into the cabin, nodding coldly to the security detail. Without a single word of warning, a guard steps forward, baring his teeth in silent malice. He hits you directly in the face with the heavy, unyielding wooden butt of his rifle before walking away. Simultaneously, a female guard kicks you brutally in the calf, instantly tripping you onto the floor. Before you can even register the pain, she slams her heavy, steel-toed shoes straight into your face.

The copper taste of blood wells up in your mouth. You lie there on the metal floor as the guards finally march out, trailing the heavy scent of gun oil, sweat, and wet wool. When all the guards leave, you wipe your chin with a shaking hand and slowly force yourself back up.

 

You didn’t want to be here. Maybe you didn’t even know why; but you sure do now. You see, you ain’t a normal person. It was several years after the War of 1812 that this society began. Travelling between Canada and the USA. They were afraid, afraid that another war might happen. So they tested out several weapons, some for mutilating enemy soldiers, some for benefit. They did this in several woods. Sometimes when people would wander, they would capture and test on them; or sometimes people got unlucky. If you had to breathe in any of the positive, HBIF—derivative from certain hormones found in people, and from Vitrified Celium and the Myco-Viral Matrix—before you had any of the negative, RSDA, you became a strange thing known as an Experiment.

 

You are entering The Steelway Railway in 1870, approximately. You got made into what you are now between the years of 1815 and 1820. When discovered by newsies and whistleblowers in 1824–1830, you watched as they killed so many newsies, just to keep a secret. And some of you escaped into the woods, as did similar; some rabid, parasite-ridden things, through the same experiment with different results, hunted down the staff, and are being hunted by them. Some just like you, same result; shot. In 1825 to 1840 you might’ve been in the first facility; or frozen in the woods, before the Great Freezing of 1840, thawing many, and bringing all to facility cryo-stations, in rippling heat. Again, bringing many to their grave, against the sand, against the prairies, blood everywhere. But the surviving Experiments froze till now, all being loaded on the train; again, some deaths involved on the dusty ground near the cedars, larches, and spruce of these old plains.

 

You listen to the caretakers when they think you are too drugged to understand, but a lot of what you know comes from the hushed gossip shared among your fellow Experiments during quiet hours. You might have caught passing whispers of terms like Alibium, GMPM, HPOM, Celium, Superium, Telium, Myco-Viral Matrix, and Lethium, but all of it really means absolutely nothing to you, of course. They are just cold, clinical words talked about by your masked tormentors, in context you are yet to fully understand.

The stories you've been told change partially to entirely depending on who is talking. One caretaker, brazen and confident murmurs that Alibium and Superium are entirely different ores mined from separate craters, while another, calm, and methodical swears they are the exact same heavy element, just renamed by the government to throw off inspectors. A fellow Experiment whispered to you that the Myco-Viral Matrix is a natural biological mold found on deep-swamp trees, somewhere in Florida, while another argues it was completely manufactured in an engine room beaker. You suspect GMPM and HPOM are groups of modified people—maybe some are perfect soldiers, maybe some are complete failures like the things howling in the woods, in pain all night, scaring the people that trap you here.

But you don't know for sure, and you most likely won't. You have no way of knowing; how would you know? You are fundamentally confused, piecing together a puzzle that you have nothing for. You might be entirely wrong about every single thing you think you know; you could be. The drugs they pump into your system keep your thoughts fractured, making it impossible to separate truth from the lies whispered across the shared rooms.

 

For brief moments, when the soot clears, you can peer through the narrow, reinforced glass slits of the train cars. Right now, the train is rolling past the warm, sweeping grasslands of Ontario. The sight out the window is a cruel contrast to the interior around you; you can see the sun beating down on golden fields, waves of heat rising off the fertile earth, and the distant silhouettes of wild deer leaping away from the tracks.

But the view is always ruined. As the engine roars through the fields, the massive cowcatcher clears the path, and the lower vents spew that rotting waste gas. You watch as the lush green grass bordering the iron tracks instantly wilts, turns black, and rots into sludge within seconds of the train passing, leaving a scar of dead earth right through the heart of the beautiful prairie.

 

But that’s just your life. Isn’t it, hmm?

 

The Train

 

A massive silvery beast, its locomotive a 4-6-4 with a giant cowcatcher, always secreting a gas that seems to rot away grass on the tracks. The train is 20 feet wide, 300 feet long, and 30 feet tall, with 15,000 square feet that anyone can stand on. Whilst being 4-6-4, the locomotive has many visual traits more common in 2-4-2 trains, all helping with the ornate look, as even the light has a sleek and elegant few metal curves. The locomotive is 50 feet long and 20 feet tall, and about as wide as the wheels are spaced out, 15 feet. The cars number 6, each one split into three to seven sections, each one 40 feet long, all ornate.

 

The vertical and social segregation of the train is absolute, built like a bizarre cross between a crappy modern college dormitory and an older, lower-class train, but injected with a strange layer of forced, upper-class comfort. They keep the lower levels deceptively comfortable so that the Experiments don't completely lose their sanity and stage a desperate, violent rebellion that would get the staff killed.

Down on Floor 1, the rooms are surprisingly decent, fitted with remarkably soft, plush pillows on the beds. The second and third cars house the Experiments' shared dorms, where three people are assigned to each tight space. The first car on Floor 1 contains a few extra three-person dorms and the Experiments' dining hall—a space fitted with nice tables and nice chairs, though it is a slightly larger, lower-quality hall with a distinctly grim, grease-stained atmosphere compared to the upper decks. The fourth car is engineered with a modular design; it can be easily separated from the third car using quick-release pressure hitches, built specifically in case the staff needs to expand the living space for more experiment dorms or quickly quarantine a sudden biological flare-up.

Up on Floor 3 of all the cars lives the train staff. This top level is where the caretakers and guards have their luxury dorms, and it contains their clean, well-stocked dining hall, in which they eat, and their personal stage on that hall, where they plan out your trials. You are absolutely forbidden from entering Floor 3, save for the staircases found in Cars 4-6, where Floor 3 houses the active testing laboratories and observation decks that you are dragged into when it is time to be experimented on.

The track massive, winding system itself forms an immense web that dictates your entire existence. The actual physical railway loops. The actual length of the railways span a total of 14,000 KMs throughout the continent. This vast network was formed by dividing it up into a main 1,000 KM corridor for local travel, with the convoluted set of secret passages making up 6,500 KM in total that stretch westward to loop across Canada and the United States, crossing back and forth across borders frequently before heading into a 1,000 KM long straight shot to the southeast until reaching another great corridor that stretches another 5,500 KM eastward, continuing to snake along both nations' borders frequently to keep the moving facility hidden from prying eyes.

 

(If we get some mods, we can work on the description more, flesh out the train, and make mechanics for the forms and stuff)

(We will add tables for randomness and that will probably be mentally damaging to your characters yay :D)

(And more stuff maybe :P)

 

 We'll need to work on mechanics, like your 'Altered Form', basic traits that carry over in and out Altered Form, a few basic statblocks for the form, and a few traits only in Altered Form. My idea is add that to an average 2014 dnd character, and maybe choose some humaniods as types of guards and scientists, or give them their own statblocks.

Add mechanics for changing the form.

Add some more lore.

Add other stuff :D*

 This... is... AWESOME!

I will help if you let me.

Hello!

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Hello!

 Amber! You're back!

Quote from YukiNatsuki >>

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

*Uhm here's the description for the train thing if we want any mods:

The Steelway Railway:

 

The gears click, shifting with a heavy, rhythmic grind as the bituminous coal burns in the massive fireboxes ahead. The soot-choked air inside the carriage vibrates. The iron floor plates beneath your feet violently shatter the quiet, a warning tremor before a loud, pressurized hiss of steam escapes from the lower pistons. The train has broken down. Again.

Around you, the masked caretakers grunt in absolute frustration. You watch from your seat as their copper-rimmed goggles rapidly fill up with grey moisture and sweat. Their gas masks give off a rhythmic, mechanical hiss as they sigh, their shoulders slumping into the damp, chemical-thick air that constantly hangs inside the cars.

Suddenly, the heavy iron partition doors slam open with a deafening clang. The guards pour into the narrow aisle, their advanced, custom-tooled rifles raised and pointed straight at your chest. One armed guard stations themselves directly in front of each person, while extra sentries line the perimeter walls. Their fingers rest lightly on the triggers of sawed-off shotguns, waiting in case multiple of you try to make a desperate move in the confusion.

The head caretakers walk back into the cabin, nodding coldly to the security detail. Without a single word of warning, a guard steps forward, baring his teeth in silent malice. He hits you directly in the face with the heavy, unyielding wooden butt of his rifle before walking away. Simultaneously, a female guard kicks you brutally in the calf, instantly tripping you onto the floor. Before you can even register the pain, she slams her heavy, steel-toed shoes straight into your face.

The copper taste of blood wells up in your mouth. You lie there on the metal floor as the guards finally march out, trailing the heavy scent of gun oil, sweat, and wet wool. When all the guards leave, you wipe your chin with a shaking hand and slowly force yourself back up.

 

You didn’t want to be here. Maybe you didn’t even know why; but you sure do now. You see, you ain’t a normal person. It was several years after the War of 1812 that this society began. Travelling between Canada and the USA. They were afraid, afraid that another war might happen. So they tested out several weapons, some for mutilating enemy soldiers, some for benefit. They did this in several woods. Sometimes when people would wander, they would capture and test on them; or sometimes people got unlucky. If you had to breathe in any of the positive, HBIF—derivative from certain hormones found in people, and from Vitrified Celium and the Myco-Viral Matrix—before you had any of the negative, RSDA, you became a strange thing known as an Experiment.

 

You are entering The Steelway Railway in 1870, approximately. You got made into what you are now between the years of 1815 and 1820. When discovered by newsies and whistleblowers in 1824–1830, you watched as they killed so many newsies, just to keep a secret. And some of you escaped into the woods, as did similar; some rabid, parasite-ridden things, through the same experiment with different results, hunted down the staff, and are being hunted by them. Some just like you, same result; shot. In 1825 to 1840 you might’ve been in the first facility; or frozen in the woods, before the Great Freezing of 1840, thawing many, and bringing all to facility cryo-stations, in rippling heat. Again, bringing many to their grave, against the sand, against the prairies, blood everywhere. But the surviving Experiments froze till now, all being loaded on the train; again, some deaths involved on the dusty ground near the cedars, larches, and spruce of these old plains.

 

You listen to the caretakers when they think you are too drugged to understand, but a lot of what you know comes from the hushed gossip shared among your fellow Experiments during quiet hours. You might have caught passing whispers of terms like Alibium, GMPM, HPOM, Celium, Superium, Telium, Myco-Viral Matrix, and Lethium, but all of it really means absolutely nothing to you, of course. They are just cold, clinical words talked about by your masked tormentors, in context you are yet to fully understand.

The stories you've been told change partially to entirely depending on who is talking. One caretaker, brazen and confident murmurs that Alibium and Superium are entirely different ores mined from separate craters, while another, calm, and methodical swears they are the exact same heavy element, just renamed by the government to throw off inspectors. A fellow Experiment whispered to you that the Myco-Viral Matrix is a natural biological mold found on deep-swamp trees, somewhere in Florida, while another argues it was completely manufactured in an engine room beaker. You suspect GMPM and HPOM are groups of modified people—maybe some are perfect soldiers, maybe some are complete failures like the things howling in the woods, in pain all night, scaring the people that trap you here.

But you don't know for sure, and you most likely won't. You have no way of knowing; how would you know? You are fundamentally confused, piecing together a puzzle that you have nothing for. You might be entirely wrong about every single thing you think you know; you could be. The drugs they pump into your system keep your thoughts fractured, making it impossible to separate truth from the lies whispered across the shared rooms.

 

For brief moments, when the soot clears, you can peer through the narrow, reinforced glass slits of the train cars. Right now, the train is rolling past the warm, sweeping grasslands of Ontario. The sight out the window is a cruel contrast to the interior around you; you can see the sun beating down on golden fields, waves of heat rising off the fertile earth, and the distant silhouettes of wild deer leaping away from the tracks.

But the view is always ruined. As the engine roars through the fields, the massive cowcatcher clears the path, and the lower vents spew that rotting waste gas. You watch as the lush green grass bordering the iron tracks instantly wilts, turns black, and rots into sludge within seconds of the train passing, leaving a scar of dead earth right through the heart of the beautiful prairie.

 

But that’s just your life. Isn’t it, hmm?

 

The Train

 

A massive silvery beast, its locomotive a 4-6-4 with a giant cowcatcher, always secreting a gas that seems to rot away grass on the tracks. The train is 20 feet wide, 300 feet long, and 30 feet tall, with 15,000 square feet that anyone can stand on. Whilst being 4-6-4, the locomotive has many visual traits more common in 2-4-2 trains, all helping with the ornate look, as even the light has a sleek and elegant few metal curves. The locomotive is 50 feet long and 20 feet tall, and about as wide as the wheels are spaced out, 15 feet. The cars number 6, each one split into three to seven sections, each one 40 feet long, all ornate.

 

The vertical and social segregation of the train is absolute, built like a bizarre cross between a crappy modern college dormitory and an older, lower-class train, but injected with a strange layer of forced, upper-class comfort. They keep the lower levels deceptively comfortable so that the Experiments don't completely lose their sanity and stage a desperate, violent rebellion that would get the staff killed.

Down on Floor 1, the rooms are surprisingly decent, fitted with remarkably soft, plush pillows on the beds. The second and third cars house the Experiments' shared dorms, where three people are assigned to each tight space. The first car on Floor 1 contains a few extra three-person dorms and the Experiments' dining hall—a space fitted with nice tables and nice chairs, though it is a slightly larger, lower-quality hall with a distinctly grim, grease-stained atmosphere compared to the upper decks. The fourth car is engineered with a modular design; it can be easily separated from the third car using quick-release pressure hitches, built specifically in case the staff needs to expand the living space for more experiment dorms or quickly quarantine a sudden biological flare-up.

Up on Floor 3 of all the cars lives the train staff. This top level is where the caretakers and guards have their luxury dorms, and it contains their clean, well-stocked dining hall, in which they eat, and their personal stage on that hall, where they plan out your trials. You are absolutely forbidden from entering Floor 3, save for the staircases found in Cars 4-6, where Floor 3 houses the active testing laboratories and observation decks that you are dragged into when it is time to be experimented on.

The track massive, winding system itself forms an immense web that dictates your entire existence. The actual physical railway loops. The actual length of the railways span a total of 14,000 KMs throughout the continent. This vast network was formed by dividing it up into a main 1,000 KM corridor for local travel, with the convoluted set of secret passages making up 6,500 KM in total that stretch westward to loop across Canada and the United States, crossing back and forth across borders frequently before heading into a 1,000 KM long straight shot to the southeast until reaching another great corridor that stretches another 5,500 KM eastward, continuing to snake along both nations' borders frequently to keep the moving facility hidden from prying eyes.

 

(If we get some mods, we can work on the description more, flesh out the train, and make mechanics for the forms and stuff)

(We will add tables for randomness and that will probably be mentally damaging to your characters yay :D)

(And more stuff maybe :P)

 

 We'll need to work on mechanics, like your 'Altered Form', basic traits that carry over in and out Altered Form, a few basic statblocks for the form, and a few traits only in Altered Form. My idea is add that to an average 2014 dnd character, and maybe choose some humaniods as types of guards and scientists, or give them their own statblocks.

Add mechanics for changing the form.

Add some more lore.

Add other stuff :D*

 This... is... AWESOME!

I will help if you let me.

 Thank you! :D

Hopefully this is gonna survive long

Quote from YukiNatsuki >>

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Hello!

 Amber! You're back!

 Is this Tana?

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Quote from YukiNatsuki >>

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Hello!

 Amber! You're back!

 Is this Tana?

 No it's Yuki, previously boss0tron3000.

hello

(ps, yuki, check your pms (sorry to have to post it on here but reasons))

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Quote from YukiNatsuki >>

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Hello!

 Amber! You're back!

 Is this Tana?

 Imagine that you thought that!

Quote from YukiNatsuki >>

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Quote from YukiNatsuki >>

Quote from AmberAundguard >>

Hello!

 Amber! You're back!

 Is this Tana?

 No it's Yuki, previously boss0tron3000.

 I had no idea it was boss.

hello tana