Seventy years ago DSMC-LXVI-Γ was just another mineral world offering up its bounty to the new frontier, an inhospitable red jewel to be cracked open and discarded. To some it remains so, if not infinitely less obliging. During that bygone ore-rush prospectors unearthed more than metal with their satellite mines and drop shafts, drawing previously unknown lifeforms to the surface. While academics still argue about proper taxonomy their extinction was of considerable relief to the universe at large.
Colloquially this 'mindflesh' surged up to ravage not only the surface but damage or destroy trade lanes and orbital installation through anomalous means. Crews were boiled alive, stations peeled themselves apart and long range bombardment proved all but useless in combating them. During the twenty seven days that would come to be known as the month of tears mankind was forced to confront hostile alien life with undocumented extranoematic capabilities. Their response was to build a better bomb.
Through trial, error and costly frontline experimentation an alloy not merely resistant but directly hostile to these energy fields was created, dubbed 'delirite' for what were mostly thematic reasons. After a few successful salvos the menace was obliterated, operations could resume and the few surviving pockets of marooned workers could be rescued, or so it was assumed. Long range scans confirmed a sort of fallout from the attack, ambient extranoematic radiation that they had no cost-effective means of dispersing. From the boardroom of an adventurecapital cruiser it was decided that the only course of action would be to wait it out, auction off parcels of land before anyone knew they were worthless then buy them back at a later date and return for stranded assets.
But those, those are the affairs of foreigners and this planet is no longer their own. It was your forefathers that survived, their bones that feed the soil and your sweat and blood that stains it. life is, was and will remain a short struggle here on Eslau, but each generation gains ground and lives fuller. You are a people of marsh tribes and tarlanders, bogfolk and tunnel nomads, inheritors of a harsh land and its secrets. You are Eslausians and this is your story.
This RP could best be seen as a tale of New new-world expansion as told by the indigenous peoples rather than its explorers, though set on an interstellar stage rather than intercontinental. What little technology you have (Which can only be maintained, not replaced or reproduced) is seventy years behind the curve; and stands out like a sore thumb amid the rediscovered pre-industrial lifestyle. But that isn't to say you aren't without certain advantages over those with designs for your world. Like all life that remains and thrives here you've adapted to the abundance of extranoematic energy and exhibit certain gifts because of it, those that hone this skill are known as Cognoscenti--but we'll discuss them later.
Playing a native demands a certain familiarity with their circumstances, which isn't nearly as bothersome as it sounds.
* First and foremost you are the descendants of surviving workmen and engineers (security was automated and administration was based off-world) so you've got some hardy, quick-witted stock behind you. These progenitors lived at most fourteen years after the incident due to disease, cell damage and mutation, leaving a young and ill prepared populace to fend for themselves. Not all of them survived to adulthood and it's only thanks to rampant teenage pregnancy that the bulk of the next generation endured. They'd lived shorter lives than their parents but managed to do so for longer on the planet itself, averaging a good twenty to twenty five years each. This trend continued, with nature weeding out those most susceptible to the ill effects of damaging EN radiation. At this point most third generation Eslausians are in the winter of their lives, expected to go out at the ripe old age of thirty or so, with the newest crop of men and women being stronger than ever.
So very Darwinian in the respect that off-worlders need to wear special suits and dose themselves with medication to avoid becoming ill, whereas you've culled that particular weakness from the gene pool to some extent.
* Life is hard and you're expected to be useful. Kids don't get childhoods, they get chores, apprenticeships and professions. The most important thing about you is what you can do and how well you do it. There's no safety blanket in place to catch the feeble, infirmed or unproductive--those that don't do wither and die. In most regions there's less an upper class than large, respected families that grow larger still as outsiders vie for entry. Wealth and status are far more evenly distributed than amongst the foreigners, which in itself becomes a source of friction.
* Lifelong exposure to EN radiation has bestowed upon you certain anomalous properties. Most glaringly all communication is non-verbal. More akin to everyone around you being exceedingly empathic than individuals speaking telepathically. To this end all those within a certain radius of each other are cued in to whatever emotions and desires are flying about (Though not specific thoughts), the language itself concerned with focusing, filtering and interpreting these broadcasted feelings. As a result it's very hard to deceive someone, and alexithymia and other personality disorders render one effectively mute. Body language and vocalization are usually reserved for adding physical emphasis to one's tuning--like how one might exaggerate tone or curse in conversation.
As this means everyone is 'talking' all the time the best way to keep something secret is not to dwell on it--a skill that takes practice--and most relationships are pretty straight forward. Stealth is also a tricky proposition, the sole domain of social lepers known as "silent ones"
* As a secondary side-effect the world (Not just yourselves) is plagued by mutations--and to be perfectly clear these are not the beneficial comic book variety. (With an exception to be covered in depth) Some are inborn and others accumulate with age and exposure, which are by and large greebily and benign. Skin discoloration, patchy or excess body hair, over-grown or malformed bones or tissue. etc. If your character could score a modeling contract take them back to the drawing board, essentially. While there's no need to go full 'the elephant man' (you're welcome to) they need be unsightly/conspicuous enough to face discrimination if they lived in the real world.
* Remnant technology is poorly understood and anything you're likely to find on world will be in various states of disrepair if functioning at all. Feel free to weigh how useful a gun you can't reload, vehicle you can't refuel or gizmo you don't understand may be before including it in a CS or picking it up mid-story. Without the appropriate backgrounds expect to make the wrong guess (Seeing a rifle as a club or not understanding grenades, for instance.)
That out of the way it's time we discuss the different tribes and geography
Eslau is very very wet and very very humid thanks to an extensive system of geysers and network of marine volcanoes, this seismic activity in turn makes its cave systems both plentiful and unstable. The superheated steam these ubiquitous geysers constantly eject falls back down as mist, rain or is absorbed into the atmosphere, leading to perpetual cloud fronts and endless downpours. With little sun most of the abundant plant life is either myco-heterotrophic, carnivorous or directly parasitic, meaning very little of it is a familiar green. Swamps, bogs, fungal forests, and marshlands dominate the waterlogged horizon, broken up by the occasional land reef or tar flat whilst muskegs rather than tundra mark the planet's poles. Seas are inhospitable cauldrons of scalding water steeped in ominous brume and what life roils beneath them best left to do so in peace; all variety of sailor considered to be maniacs by their landborne peers. Travel is done on foot or in saddle unless you're lucky enough to be ferried to and fro by air. More conventional forms of transport exist, as the occasional skeleton studded wreck reminds. Settlements and cities are far and few, with nothing resembling a country or unified government in place. Most are primitive homesteads built up and out of pre-existing structures in a way that offends aesthetics. Much of the flora and fauna exhibit anomalous attributes as well, having likewise been exposed to seventy years of fallout. Gravity is slightly less pronounced on Eslau, but not by any meaningful degree.
A family is a group of people related by blood or marriage all settled in the same general area. A tribe consists of all families occupying a particular region.
Marsh Tribes - The marsh tribes enjoy a relatively higher standard of living then most of their neighbors, due to the nutrient-rich wetlands that support them, and while it doesn't so much resemble typical farming there's plenty to cultivate. Supplementing their diet with meat from hunting and livestock--being one of the few locales able to sustain domestic herds--their more sedentary than most. Insects and disease are a fact of marsh life, as is the threat of rustling, poachers and summer raids.
Bogfolk - Supporting themselves on an industry of peat and bog metal these tribes tend to eke by, peddling what they can to outlying regions and cautiously protecting their livelihoods. Poor soil makes cultivation difficult, forcing them to range nearby swamps and fens in spite of hazards. As such many bogfolk hire themselves out as guides or messengers, relying on their read of the land and experience to safely return from each trek.
Tarlanders - There's one thing and one thing only that these black, blighted lands offer up in abundance. Tar, in all its forms. From vast tracts of oil sand to seeps as far as the eye can see these pitted landscapes belch up black gold. Though mainly used for waterproofing (and all peoples need constantly keep rot at bay) this precious sludge is an even more valuable commodity to those able to refine it. They must trade and rustle or perish, but generally prefer to offer the first before the latter.
Tunnel Nomads - Mysterious wayfarers that roam self-contained pocket eco-systems deep below Eslau's surface, constantly on the move to stay one step ahead of the shifting subterranean cave-system. As the years accrue nomads migrate to the surface to avoid being swallowed up in their old age and often settle in whatever clime is at hand. Younger stock tend to make the trek only when short of fresh water or as outcasts. Sometimes called milk-eyes from a life spent in near darkness they suffer the day under blindfold but navigate the night like no one else.
Muskeggers - Few lay claim to the far north and south in all its barren, bitter cold but proud are the men that bear that title. Beasts are their bread and blood their water, and they've prodigious appetites for both. They raid to reap that sown by weaker arms, cutting down those not humble in their wake. Knowing themselves strong they do not offer trade but instead demand tribute, for that given up in tithe is not taken by force.
Fungs - Sometimes seen as quasi-mystical beings plenty of superstitions hold to those that settle in amongst the tallcaps. Masters of moldlore they drive deeper into the sporeways and softwealds than others dare, impressing with their ability to return. Rare medicine and powerful narcotics are their contribution to the world at large, though the price they ask is steep. No one knows what becomes of the children they take.
Coastals and Brumeys - If there's one thing to be said first it's that out of respect, fear or a healthy mix of the two these are the only settlements a Muskegger raid will move around and not over. As anyone that would choose to sleep beside the boiling sea needs to be a touch mad or all the way crazy. Fishers and ferrymen those that man the oars are called scalds--for obvious reasons--usually trading amongst themselves (Coastals staying the mainlands and Brumeys populating volcanic island chains) It's important to note that when they go fishing the boats ARE the bait.
Tincts - A term that came about either from tinkering or the 'extinct' machines they surround themselves with this tribe is perhaps most open to foreign influence. Though many peoples lay claim to forgotten buildings and disused machinery the distinction comes from being able to keep it working. Overtly distrusted it is nevertheless their willingness to buy random junk and pay handsomely that keeps them from being openly antagonized. A few functioning firearms don't hurt either. They tend to keep on very good terms with nearby tarlanders.
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Braves are career warriors as opposed to the hunters and able bodies that are gathered and armed to fill out a raid, usually valued at twice a man or more. Eat. Train. Fight. Sleep. That's this day, the one before and the next. While often butting heads with those that support them braves are a needed tool and deterrent, as sometimes one must take from others and so must always guard against it in return. As more established families can feed and arm more braves poorer members of the tribe often seek their protection.
Doyens are the unofficial heads of a tribe, earning the title with mastery of a trade. This usually take many of the years their in short supply of, leaving them old and (assumedly) wise. More than a simple honorific Doyens are considered worth many men, as the skills they perfect are in high demand. A boon to any tribe they draw trade and respect, so much so that families--even those in open feud with one another--will opt to induct them into their households; to come and go as they please. This reverence stems from not only their ability to do a particular craft well but to teach other, less gifted tribesmen to do it well enough. Not every smith need be able to craft swords or armor just as no Doyen has the time to smelt endless bog metal or shod hoppers.
Inversely cognoscenti aren't considered a part of any tribe or family, as their honing leaves little room for obligation and it is a burden to support their training. Yet as they will come to wield undeniable power their favor is often sought and mutual reliance is born. In exchange for food, water and other necessities from bordering settlements the schools quell instability in the region, usually by putting down dangerous beasts or weeding out the sort of kinstrife that cannot await a moot. As each cognoscente can do the work of many braves few protest the arrangement.
The diplomatic landscape takes the form of general opinions formed from first and secondhand accounts, so while individual and interfamily judgments vary cultural attitudes tend to stay the same. Occasionally the bulk off all tribes in an area will call a moot, for purposes of preserving the delicate truces they abide by. Concerns and grievances are aired, things get talked out best they can and the Doyens solve more sensitive issues amongst themselves. Remember, most of all--these are informal and do not resemble democratic ruling. Powerful families and powerful tribes have more say in what will be, it doesn't matter that you're right if the guy disregarding you has more braves to throw at a potential conflict or you need his trade to survive. This is often flaunted in 'big stick' negotiations, so bribes are openly offered during the round table. Common topics of discussion include demands of wergild, negotiating trade and tribute, arranging marriages and so on.
I plan to include information on Cognoscenti (Those that dedicate themselves to mastery of 'the broken truths' that let them harness extranoematic energy in a similar--yet weaker--way as the titular aliens) and Doyens, as well outlining a few vaguer points I eluded to above. After that it will be detailing the foreign factions a bit, but the bare bones is thus:
X argue that mineral rights fall the the current inhabitants--as they're technically the descendants of the original colonists.
Y argue that as they've mutated beyond their humanity that likewise their human rights are forfeit
Z argue that intensive study of local phenomenon supersedes other considerations
Glad to hear it. I'm trying to avoid tropes or embrace them in an uncommon fashion when it comes to what powers will be available. And in general the roleplay will be constantly accepting. (Filling in ranks as people die or disband, providing one shot or recurring allies/antagonists, etc.)
Sured up the People section with the difference between a family and tribe as well as outlining the role of Braves, Doyens and Cognoscenti. I'll be adding an in depth guide to how to play a cognoscente and getting the meat of some other stuff in a bit.
At this point I'm still trying to think up some unconventional powers to base the seven schools around, so far I've got three.
The School of the Buried Brave The School of the Sword Eating Shield The School of the Stranded Eye
I'm not going to give away too much on those three yet but I'm fairly pleased with how they turned out. I'll be adding them to the big board once I think up four more without having to pull the same tired powers out of the bottom of the idea bin.
Always glad to have more interest. I've been ruminating on the place of women in society for the setting lately. Personally I feel as if they'd of returned to the "Women are special and men are replaceable" mindset. Arranged marriages are common, daughters are powerful bargaining chips within families and any job that's likely to get a person killed ends up being doled out to the men. Unlike their male counterparts potential wives and mothers would almost always be welcome into other households (Though not without their own struggles for power and dominance) and a tribe could always bounce back from losing most of its men--the same could not be said for losing their better halves.
I've got a question: Would it be possible if a tinct, after implanting some cool cybernetic brain tech into themselves, awaken a dormant A.I? And aforementioned A.I took over the tincts body? It would be something of a shift of what you envisioned, so I'm curious to what you think.
@Sypherkhode822 - The easy answer is that tincts don't understand technology, they understand maintenance. It's a body of knowledge built up from observing the previous generation, staring at illustrated manuals they can't really read anymore and disassembling any non-functional tools they come across for spare parts. Imagine it like rediscovering magic in a fantasy setting, they don't know WHY most things work, just that the little rituals they've preserved over the years keep it working.
They're getting worse at keeping their settlements running with each year, not better. A combination of progressively more degraded machinery and that semi-literate people are rarer than albinos. Importantly critical maintenance is the domain of their Doyans, whom in turn teach other members of the community enough to keep a settlement from total collapse, meaning most are as unskilled as assembly line workers. (trained in doing just one thing adequately)
To go into a little more
Let's tackle the thought of replacing a human brain with an artificial one. The main problem with this being that even a successful installation kills the patient (You are your brain) and replaces it with at best a simulation of his/herself. Even if it were only a small module it would either: A) Require the excision of a large portion of grey matter to fit comfortably within the skull B) Be an external deuteromind of sorts, likely placed lower on the spine than the brain proper as to intercept signals and supersede orders going to and from the head. I describe it thus due to my next point--
The A.I. and the device would have to be purpose built for the task of commandeering the human body. While certainly possible there's little reason for something like this to be left behind on a deep space mining colony and even less for it to contain an A.I. capable of free will. On that point--
A.I.s don't--and as scientists tend to be good at their jobs in this setting--are by very design incapable of achieving free will. It is flatly impossible. The sort of machine intelligences that exceed the mental faculties of their creators are: A) Too large to cram inside a human body to begin with B) The result of throwing large amounts of money and human effort at the wall. Like putting out a new OS. So it's not feasible that a rogue element of the development staff could sabotage his co-workers to the extent of making an unbound A.I. Even if they did, these things go through quality assurance first.
Finally you wouldn't be able to preform neurosurgery on yourself--nor would there be anyone on the planet capable of the task. The initial years were basically "the Lord of the Flies - bombed out mining colony edition"
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Unrelated note: I'm happy the fourth school of cognoscenti even if I'm stumped as to what to call them. I'll likely be added an incomplete section on them to the main post soonish.
Here's a preview of one of the schools while I flesh out the others:
I looked upon the brave before me and felt a strong truth, saw within his strength and sinew a hidden hollow. With eyes now truly open the brave was no longer before me, but below.
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The first and most fundamental teaching of this school is the Nature of Nothing, specifically that any given object will contain more 'empty space' than substance. Mastery of this truth allows the cognoscenti to manipulate these fields to considerable effect, all while moving 'nothing' at all. Despite this knowledge pupils invariably find 'nothing' difficult to grasp but as their intuition grows the inverse comes to be true, nothing being difficult to grasp.
For the act itself the cognoscenti must first clear their mind of all thoughts, for even these have substance and emptiness must first be found within. Thus prepared it is then the simple process of allowing oneself to perceive the world within as one would the greater world without, to peer into each atom as if its nucleus were a star. On these orbits of the furtive firmament they exert their will; mind, body and the void for which each is a vessel brought to bare through practiced gesture. These motions meaningless save for delicate state of mind those taught learn to associate with them.
As a learned member of this school you:
Breath deep, stand strong but tread softly; my domain runs through you.
Bury: The First Form - The Burial form is focused through the cognoscenti clapping their hands in front of themselves as if crushing the object they are viewing, then focusing mind and body in a downward motion. This is most commonly accomplished by lacing the fingers of the clapped hands together and swinging them towards the ground whilst stomping their front foot forward.
Effect: An object (or part of a sufficiently large object) is altered so that it briefly 'lines up' with the gaps in where it stands, causing it to fall or sink a few feet into the ground. Unfortunately the effect is very short lived, lasting only about as long as it would take a human being completely pass from sight; unfortunate because--assuming the subject now occupies solid earth--less dense materials will be 'shoved' out of the way by their heavier peers.
Entomb: The Second Form - The Tomb form is focused through the cognoscenti shaping a triangle by joining the thumbs and forefingers of each hand and holding them outstretched but level with their field of view and the intended target. They then release the gesture and pull apart their hands as if holding a rapidly expanding sphere, following this with an upward motion of arm and body.
Effect: The majority of empty space of an area is forced into the shape of a prism, now sheathed in the smooth, crystalline exterior of what was its substance and surrounding atoms. Size is a direct result of the effort one invests, with gases being easier to arrange than liquids or solids. While sufficiently hard, heavy materials are difficult or impossible to alter in this manner prisms of 'ghost glass' can be conjured from thin air.
*These forms don't travel as a projectile would, instead focused on an area or object as an anomaly, the most effective form of defense being to break line of sight.
**They're also more versatile than they may appear. Cognoscenti may bury -themselves- with the aid of a mirror for stealthy rooftop entrances, raise tombs as tactical cover (and likewise expose foes via the first form) or compromise structures they'd have no other means to assail. The only limit is one's ingenuity.
Rivers of empty space permeate all things. First find your headwaters, then follow them.
Are attuned to the emptiness of things and upon physical contact can sense the boundaries of an object. More a guestimate than exact measure this gives the cognoscenti the ability to tell how thick a wall is, if there's a room below, how long a drop may be, etc. Of important note however is that this property is not limited to solids, so they are able to get a less accurate reading from liquid and gas.
Receive training in the use of a bow, sling or similar ranged weapon, as the forms are most effective at range and require a great deal of concentration. (You can bury and entomb less of a visible object the closer it is to you and to even try require elaborate motions and an empty mind/hands.) If forced into a melee many rely on a crude cestus formed from lumps of tombed material sewn into a padded glove.
