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    1. REDSHEILD 10 yrs ago

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I can deal with a low population, so it's fine. I've sent you a PM with some stuff that I feel is important but also felt it wasn't appropriate to post here.
HazmatMedic said
Ooh...I'm not quite sure I like the sound of that.


Well, forgive me for being blunt, but could I have a yes or no answer?
HazmatMedic said
Two arms, two legs, a torso and head. Any finer details, go wild. The "humanoid" rule is just so we don't have races of hyper intelligent cows or walking mushrooms.


Okay, I ask because, well, these are more along the lines of "8 legs, manipulators (two pairs, one pair is for delicate work and is weak, the other is less dexterous but is stronger), body, and head"
They are best described as large trilobites for the sake of brevity. I have a description in Google docs here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1R7a6dIEZkrDeKeZbCsAe7gijwjRCFbJ0dsnX2z9RoTw/edit?usp=sharing
So, a question. The race I was planning on using for this is not, exactly, humanoid. Though psychologically, they should jive pretty well with humans. Would that be a problem?
So, I'm pretty keen to join this.

Is there a combined map that is up-to-date out there?
"That, Mr. Riemann, is exactly the sort of deal I am looking for. The coal and oil barons will not be happy, but I can mitigate this by letting you build in my family's lands. When it comes to the actions of a noble in his own keep, our government is quite lax. We also have the advantage of an intact atmosphere above our heads, and a climate that has remained stable for generations, unlike the UCS."

"Should you like, I can arrange for you to tour potential sites, whether you come personally to Sanctus or send a team of surveyors in your stead is not a problem. Additionally, if the technology I have provided you does not quite suite your needs, I can give you access to our fabrication facilities for custom orders."

"If you need anything else from me, now, do say so. Otherwise, I think we are done here, Mr. Riemann."
"Splendid, my friend, simply splendid!"
Marcus slides the processor to Riemann, and signals Edison to collect the briefcase.
"I have greater concerns than what you do with my technology, Mr. Riemann, but it does ignite a warmth in my heart to see it put to a productive cause. The other nobles will likely be sour upon hearing of this; had I shared those sentiments, I doubt I would be here."

"However, there are a few strings attached. I will act to recover or destroy this property if it would be used to threaten Sanctus, though I doubt you are interested in that. If it or any replicas are ever stolen from you, do not hesitate to inform me. The chip and its support hardware have several security holes my company can use to make it useless to those we, yourself included, don't want to possess it. Naturally any derivative hardware and software is out of my hands."

"That said, I imagine you have a few conditions of your own. It would be most unfair were I to not abide by them. So please, speak them freely."
"Yes, a good afternoon, if I may say so. Please, have a seat, Mr. Riemann."
He extends a hand towards a chair, and then turns to his assistants.
"Before we begin in earnest; Mr. Edison, a signal jamming field*, if you would? Nothing excessive, just enough to cover the room. Mr. Hevesy, would you please cover the door?"
The bodyguard, pose rigid, walks over and stands at attention by the door. The other offers just a nod.
"Good. Now, Mr. Riemann, we can have our trade. Given that you and I are both here, we clearly recognize our respective needs."

Telarius reaches into his coat pocket, and withdraws a small case. Gently, he opens it, and extracts its content. The circuit board is recently made, the sharp edges press deeply into Telarius' gloves. On it sits a microprocessor, mounted snugly in its socket. He holds it to the light for a few moments, then returns it to its case.

"I have here all you will ever need from me. I'm afraid that the nature of what I desire makes it more prohibitive for you to return that favor, however, so I am more than willing to cooperate to the fullest extent of our trade, Mr. Riemann."

((*This, naturally, is regular radio frequency jamming.))
*4390th Etos of The Kingdom*

Deep in the Glorious South, a rare sight treats the dark skies. Around it, the storms rage.



Leonard cringed with the sudden rocking of the cabin, expecting it to get worse. As always, though, it leveled off.

“Lenny, try not to piss yourself, alright?” One of his comrades said jokingly “We’re not equipped for frostbite.”

He glanced out the frost-tinted window, onto the ice plains below. “Anything but flying.”

“Would you rather a plane, fast and fatal? On foot or vehicle, we would freeze, and no ship can go this far. The airship is nice, steady. Now, get your gear. We land soon.”

~~~~

With a soft thud the airship’s wheels touched the flat ice, and the whine of the propellers died as the engines shut down. The nearby airship of the precursor to their group, a mining team, was nearly obscured by the constant snow swept by the winds.

As Leonard and his fellows exited their zepellin, the foreman of the mining crew approached.

“We’ve gone as far as our drills can get us. Cave network is roughly three stadion down, at a thirty degree incline. They said you’d come with the remaining payment?”

The exploration team leader stepped forward, carrying a case that rattled with coin.

“Here you go, my friends. May Hagne grant you good harvests.”

The miners accepted the case, and made off to their ship.

Now, their last steps done, the explorers began their first.

~~~~

Days had been spent, searching the tunnels. Consulting geiger counters, maps, and orbital scans.

With careful steps, Leonard approaches a ledge. The light from his electric torch shows a glint, not of the ice, but of metal, just at the bottom. Behind him, he heard footsteps. Gripped in panic, his paranoia got the best of him, and he fell.

He heard the crack of his legs breaking on the metal surface, but he was in no pain, curiously eying the painted steel. Just before shock, he muttered one word to his radio:
“Ferryman”
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