Blizz

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

@LustForDecay@Red Fox@datadogie

"Huh?" Who's there?" A strangely accented voice responded to Frost's voice- and it wasn't Vorra's. She instantly reached for her gun. She looked down off the balcony and saw something moving among the boxes and crates, a large, arthropod like creature. A Vrexul, eavesdropping on her, they weren't very common to see in federal space these days, and it only added to the amount of surprise to see someone here. "The hell?!" She was half tempted to raise her gun and fire on sight, but that wouldn't be a good idea, Frost had seen Vrexul once or twice in her earlier years- they were made for fighting. How much had this one heard already? They said something about work, did Vorra say something, or did he just hear that much? "Who told you that? Where did you come from?" There was a sharp tone in her voice as she barked questions at the intruder, she hadn't heard him come in. Ultimately this Vrexul probably wasn't that big of a threat, if he had been eavesdropping as long as she thought he was, he knew she was a criminal.

" " Frost, you have to see this. I'm saving the scan data onto my ships computer, it's too dangerous to be sent out freely. But the rumors seem to be true. Formalis is a gold mine. My scans picked up dozens of possible wrecks, I'm actually still counting them. But they are there, waiting for us. I'll go trough the scans in depth while travelling to you, filtering out the duds. You better get a trustworthy crew for this one. There could be enough stuff here to warrant a backstabbing or two. I'll leave Formalis within the hour, it will take me around a week to get to you. You prepare your part of the plan, I'll see what we have there. "

Instantly brushing off the unknown party, Frost would've smiled if she had a mouth. "Good, good. Get back here as soon as you can, that place'll probably be crawling with federal toadies before long, we gotta get there and get out as soon as we can- load the scrap onto your ship, and and sell it for creds. While you're on the way back, I'll put together a crew for us, I know just the person for the job, Frost out." The line clicked dead as Frost reach for her datapad, a slightly outdated model that was a little smaller than the more recent ones. Her fingers glided along the screen for a few minutes until she reached a particular contact with a group that owed her a solid- the White Ashes. They were a rebellious black-ops dystopian killing bunch of assassins who wanted political power, in Frost's eyes anyway, but they got results. A while back, she ran with a few of them around the back ends of Kastrack to set up something shady- the kind of shady Frost deals in. That was probably years ago, she didn't remember, but they made her a promise personally that they'd throw her a bone with one of their better agents when the need were to arise. Luckily, having friends in high places on rare occasion came in handy. Frost scrolled to a contact listed under the name APOLONIR. She ringed them up, beep...beep...beep.

Total silence for what felt like five entire minutes, Frost kept an eye on the guy downstairs in waiting..."I'll worry about you in a minute."

"Underneath the sun."
"Far above the clouds we soar."
"Into blinding winds we ride."
"Down into the darkest night."

"...Code acknowledge-" A voice retorted in a Spryzali accent. "Greetings, Ra- Frost."

"Yeah, s'me. About that time in Bluestrand..."

"The White Ash repays their debts. Whatever you need."

"I need one of your best agents, I have work that needs numbers."

"And I presume this agent is to be treated fairly, in relation to your...work."

"You get dirty, you get rich." Frost remarked bluntly.

"Very well, do you have any names in mind?"

Frost pondered that one for a second, then she remembered a certain someone.

"Get me Agent Wicked Falcon. ASAP."

"Understood. You will be patched through shortly, once Wicked Falcon and her handler are relayed your request. "

"Got it."

"And Frost- don't get our agent killed."

The line went dead as Frost waited for a phone call.

In the secret cogs of White Ash, information was sent to the people that needed it, until the brass got ahold of the tacks, and Molly "Wicked Falcon" Agaphira was assigned yet another mission.

Meanwhile, Frost pinged Vorra again. "If you're still there, I've got us someone good coming on board, I'll get back to you on that one, Frost out."

The plan was in motion. She turned back to the uninvited guest on the ground floor, roughly 15 feet down.

"Okay, explain yourself. Who are you? What's a Vrexul doin' in federal space?" Frost spoke with a blunt tone in her voice, her grip on her pistol had visibly relaxed a little, even if she still wasn't all too thrilled about someone getting the drop on her like that. It was a strange sight to see someone of his kind in a place like Davenrom, Vrexul despised the feds- probably more than her. She didn't actually know that much about his people, other than their weird biology and their messy history with the federation.

Meanwhile, on a distant land wracked with rime and mist...

A gruff, yet feminine figure trudged through feet-deep fresh fallen snow into a sunken valley. The sky was a churning cauldron of vapor and snow that one could rarely distinguish from the monochromatic, dim glow of the far away star that fit the barest definition of a sun. This was Formalis- a fringe land closed off from most of civilization, where you have to either be as hardened as the permafrost to survive, or capable of exploiting it. The physically stoic creature forged through the snow into a twisted, vaguely warmer mass of crashed ships, into shelter from the endless blizzards. Shortly after finding way inside. These ships hadn't been here long, they were still flaming and were painted with the hues of the Federation. No one survived the crash of these ships, which were meant to touch down in relative safety and establish a foothold, whether the native people wanted it or not. If agents of the government could gain so much as a scrap of influence over any land that wasn't already their own, they would spread like wildfire. The humanoid figure that stood to be roughly 6 and a half feet tall was a Skala, a native subcategory of Elksie to the frigid planet. She carried with her a walking stick with hardened bark for texture, and was covered head to toe in long, bulky clothes made of animal pelts and bones stitched together. The Skala woman stared at the broken mess of metal in curiosity, none of her people have surely ever seen such a thing. What would they say? Will more appear?

Bad things were coming to the dreary planet.

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

hm

nerd

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

For the glory of the Federation.

---

Davenrom | Saturday 15:29PM | Frost's Hideout

In the metropolitan city, people were going about their typical day. Cars rolled down roads, federal cargo amp-ships pulled into the docks, and life on this piece of federal territory was perfectly normal for all upstanding citizens of the Galactic Federation of Landrunia.

All the upstanding ones, anyway...

A renegade android nested in an old warehouse, in a largely abandoned section of Davenrom, out to the southside of the heart of the city. The building was found off the main road of Abernathy Street, only a couple streets away from a waterway meant to redirect flood surge. The warehouse was once one of three locations for a large shopping center, Megaplex, to store inventory on a large scale. It was now, however, collecting dust in a forgotten side of the massive city; An old retail building, full of useless junk, perfect for an android outside the law such as herself. No one came to this part of the city anymore, no one had lived in the neighborhood for a few years now. It was essentially a ghost town of houses and dusty buildings, and would surely be repurposed for another shopping center any day now. The android, going by the name Frost these days, sat on the steps of a staircase going upwards. The top of the stairwell was essentially her home, as the ground was cluttered with high-stacked boxes of depreciated trinkets and other capitalist wastings only children and shallow teenagers might care for most. At the inner balcony of the warehouse's stairs, a large walkway from one wall to the other accompanied by old railing, was a makeshift living quarters with the most notable things being a single-person mattress next to a hammock nailed to the walls, a large, dusty table with wipe marks, a gun, and magazines as well as several loose sheets of paper with various things on them. This was where Frost and an absent partner in crime stayed most days as of late, neither of them were on the good side of the law- they were effectively criminals. The broken windows of the second floor where they stayed were covered with tarps to keep the breeze out. It was a dull and pitiful image, living in a graveyard of retail in a completely dead piece of the biggest city on the planet, with the most things to do you could ever imagine. This was Frost's life, and she was fine with it. The android was staring out an intact window to the horizon, clouds drifted forward along the desolate sky of the street as the day grew longer. Any other person in the galaxy in such a city would no doubt be seeing a movie with their friends or hanging out after school, not Frost though. Not Frost. Androids don't live with that kind of luxury, in Landrunia's politics, metal is just metal.

The galaxy was surely brimming with opportunity and time wasters for what could be everyone else in the federal territory, and yet she sat her furthest from it all. Not even two weeks ago, she and her illicit and ever trustworthy partner in crime, Vorra Mau, were nearly caught by federal agents in another heist over in another city. It was simple, sneak into a military base, steal a federal APC, stuff as many weapons into it as possibly, load it onto Vorra's ship before sunrise, and cart it off to Eyrkosh. It was an easy plan for plenty of cash to be made, but the feds changed their patrol schedule, so the two crime artists had to ditch the APC. They managed to keep an assault rifle, which was stuffed under Vorra's bed, but they didn't get the job done, so they didn't take a trip to Eyrkosh's black market, meaning they didn't get paid. The whole thing got on Frost's nerves, they weren't doing so great on cash at the moment, and Frost's bike was low on fuel; if they didn't catch a break soon, they'd be in bad shape. Where was she? A few days prior, Frost contacted Vorra just before she started crashing at the warehouse, she heard on her radio about a couple of downed ships from some starside pirates on a place called Formalis, Frost had never been to a planet like that but from what the pirates were saying, it was pretty chilly. It was just the kind of luck she needed to turn things around, so she got Vorra on the line and slipped her a couple hundred credits to scout things out since she was the one who could hop into space. When Vorra would get back to the hideout, she'd get another couple hundred for the info she could get. If it was anything good, Frost would try to jump down there with a crew to take what she could before the feds came in to reclaim their property. The only issue was she hadn't heard from Vorra in a while, not since yesterday morning. Frost shut the window and made her way over to the table and grabbed a radio transmitter, roughly the size of her hand, to try and get ahold of her partner on a low scale channel that feds wouldn't be on. Of course, anyone in the low 20s could hear her, but no one would be on them, more than likely, except those two who operated regularly on it.

"Vorra, it's me. You alive?" Frost's voice sounded like it was rather rough, coming through the radio, but in person it sounded like she was speaking through a radio anyway. The papers next to the radio looked to be a drawn out, half done strategy about how to tackle the operation, from loading tech to directions gathered from chatter.

@ZAVAZggg@CitrusArms@LustForDecay@datadogie@Letter Bee@Red Fox

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

The Criminal

Frost

Species

Android

Gender

Female

Age

"Don't ask."

Personality

Mellow and mostly stoic like the metal that makes her body, Frost is resourceful and knows how to get by without needing to look over your shoulders for Federation goonies. She isn't the kindest person ever, and is actually a little unpleasant if you're not her friend, but that's only from her habits of not trusting easily. Frost doesn't have a problem with lending a hand when it matters, but she won't help someone who won't help herself. It sounds heartless and cold, but Frost didn't get anywhere in life outside of the Federation's grip by being soft. Frost is what the white collars in the center of the galaxy would call a lawless vagrant, but all that means is she doesn't pay any mind to the government; Frost listens to her own rules, not the Federation's, and that means she's not afraid to do things just because the Federation deems them illegal, she will help people she calls her own, whether she's guilty of crimes or not. She probably would be if she were ever caught for doing something illicit, but that's why you never get caught. It's only illegal if they find you. Frost has done a lot of line-blurring things in her time, and she's not proud of everything she's been responsible for, but everything she does that threatens or offends the laws or the rest of the world is something that she does to survive. The feds don't care about Androids, so it's her only option in life.

Frost likes to chase after gain from time to time, having worked in shady environments often, she knows how to get in on word about things that go unchecked, places you can loot for every last credit, places you can steal some goods for profitable under-the-table trafficking, the usual outlaw stuff. She likes to do things honorably, contrary to what you might expect, so anyone involved in her hits, runs, jobs, heists and so on get their fair share when the sun sets. Every hand that helps lift the lid of the jar gets their own cookie afterwards. Frost lives and breathes the underside of society, out of both survival and living, there is no bragging right to be found in stepping on people already low on the totem pole when you’re trying to live another day yourself.

"I didn't get to where I am now by obeying laws and rules. No I’m my shoes does, if you trust me, I’ll make sure you’re better off for it. In my work, you get paid for running on the edge.”

Reputation

An outlaw at heart. Frost is known by a fair amount of people who live on the fringes of galactic civilization, the stellar frontiers, so to speak; To those people, she's just a very self-reliant Android who lends a hand every now and then, but to some Federation records that go back a little, there is an Android named Radon whose description Frost fits quite well; Accounts of government property theft, illegal asset trafficking (a fancy, bureaucratic way of saying black market dealings) and arrest evasion; No one knows this exactly, but she faked her death some unknown amount of time ago, and has been going by the name Frost since then. She tries not to get entangled with the law at the risk of those charges coming up, but everyone runs out of miles to walk someday.

"It's not the life I asked for, not the life anyone asks for, but it beats being in a federal jail for trying to survive."

History

[+]

Many, many years ago, an Android crawled out of an old, ran down building in the metros of the federation. Not a scrap of anything more than metal and dirt on the old thing in the planetside night. The rickety machine stumbled to its feet as its thoughts calibrated each other, and things became clear as they do to a mind that doesn’t decay like that of flesh. An Android named Radon. Everything was foggy, but she knew that she was alive, and her own. Everything made sense but only the things around her, not behind the present moment. Radon was covered in dirt and grime evident that something just left a moldy building teeming with lotholi colonies. To this day, she can’t remember a lot. She wishes she could, but she can’t.

If androids could cough, she’d be doing that. Radon stumbled through a slum in federation territory, boarded up windows and blurry music from nightclubs passing her by as her mind still tried to grasp everything. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in time for some idiot to come stammering down the streets into her. It was late, and a human solider had just left a bar, he was walking down the sidewalk she was going down. Radon was jumpy, and it must’ve been annoying to the cocky man, he stared wide-eyed at this Android walking around naked, like it had seen a ghost. Radon was stammering down the sidewalk scared and confused while her mechanical brain was still trying to sort it out, when she ran into him quite roughly. How rude of her to disrespect a federation solider.

Radon tripped and fell, and the soldier almost fell too.

“Hey! Better watch it you fucking idiot. Scrapyards back the way you came.” He grunted, Radon didn’t even bother listening to whatever the guy said, when she tried getting up. “You drunk or somethin’ I’m talking to you, dumb fuck.” Was he drunk.

”S-I.. So...” Radon’s head wasn’t right, she was struggling to process what was going on. “Huh? You speak English or what?” Radon was on her feet, but the soldier harassing her was acting like a pain in the ass, so naturally he shoved the poor thing down, but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back down too.

“Hey! Fuck! Get off me!” He yelled as he kicked at her, after standing back up. His boot banging into her metal stomach. “Fucking stupid little bot. Can’t even speak English.” He took another kick at her, apparently it was fun to bully androids around here. “Scrap piece of shit!” and another kick, people were starting to take notice as they passed by. Bang, bang, bang. Somehow the kicks to her body were actually painful to Radon, how? Her uncalibrated was just now starting to grasp what was happening, a human male was beating her up and she was curled into a ball on the ground, taking it.

“Bitch!” He yelled out as people watched, no one cared. No one cared. It hurt. Bang. Bang. Bang. Stomp.

Crack.

Radon clamored to her feet and swung at the soldier like her life very much depended on it. Her brain was adjusting. She swung at him like she was clearing a table off. He fell back against the ground for a third time as people on the sidewalk gawked. He wasn’t happy about it, and he definitely didn’t like the fact that she was stomping over to him instinctually to deck him again, he pulled out a gun, a sidearm, just a little too slow to get pack another ham fisted right hook. The gun rattled around on the sidewalk, grabbing her attention.

“Fuck!” He yelled, people began whispering as both him and Radon, who was running on fumes mentally, tripped over each other to grab the heavy looking gun, Radon fell on top of it, and the soldier she was in a tussle with bashed his boot against her side again.

“Give me back my gun you fucking d-“

Whoosh

She grabbed it by the barrel and swung it at his knee, and it hurt like hell. He yelped as he bent over in pain, and Radon took another swing, at his doubled-over head. A loud Thud as a car came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road which they had fell into. Not just any car, a federal patrol cruiser. What the hell was happening on the road?

Radon blacked out for a while, and came to her senses in a police station. They took her in for questioning. Radon was sat in a chair across from two federal policemen, but her aggressor was nowhere to be found.

”Mm. Where am I...”

“Hell, it talks after all.”

“Yep, now listen, what in hell were you doing beating up on a federation soldier? Thought you’d get away with that, sparky?”

Naturally, they didn’t believe an Android who acted in desperate self defense, and they cuffed her to the chair she was sitting in. The gun from the incident was sitting on the table as evidence. She doesn’t remember much other than yanking on the handcuffs, shooting one of the feds, and running. That was where that memory ended.

She’s spent every waking day since then, all those years ago, running from federal agents. Living in their blind spots under the name Frost. She hid out in abandoned towns, countrysides, and safehouses all over the place, even saved up enough credits to buy a bike off some smugglers she got to know.

A rough life, sure, but hers.

No one could take that away from her.

Gear

Weaponry

Siber-4219 SI3: Effectively the glock of Landrunia, one of the classic sidearms most popular with federation soldiers. Holds a magazine of 13 rounds chambered in 20cal steel carbide rounds. Steady enough to dump an entire clip into someone with relative ease. It has an optimal range of roughly 50 feet. Frost is never not carrying this around with a handful of mags tucked away under her belt or in her clothes.
”Love this thing. Plenty of rounds, looks nice too.”



Chrome-carbon combat knife: Frost’s trusty knife she’s carried for a long time, sharp enough to eat out of a can with, if she had a stomach. Like her gun, frost always keeps this on her.
“Hey, never know when something needs a good sticking.”

Attire

Visibly weathered but in decent shape, Frost’s getup echoes her rough life of not throwing things out just because they’re scuffed up.
”This old things seen me through a lotta rain.”

Transport

Canderain B-Model Horizoneer: A real workhorse if a hoverbike. A full 25 liter tank of fuel will get you a hundred miles, it even has a storage trunk under the seat for cargo.
“Old reliable, it is. I usually slip a pirate some cash for a spot on a ship to get across the galaxy, but planetside, this old beast don’t quit.”

Other

753.52 federation credits. In cash.
“Enough to last me a while.”

A small handheld device full of shady contacts, similar to a phone, but more like a pdf with a comms channel than anything.
“Helps to know a guy for this stuff. Can’t have too many friends when you live like me.”

A notepad and a pen with scribbling sand run on sentences about a planet called “Formalis” and something about a ship.
“Maybe I can scrape together a crew for it before the feds get down there.”

To Claim a Starting World

on no...

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Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

@CitrusArms pre-approved

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

@ZAVAZggg

Pre-approved move him over

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

Tales From Landrunia

It is the year 4297, you are a citizen of the Landrunia Galaxy, lived in by the galaxy’s snobby government, aliens, pirates, and criminality. All across the Landrunia galaxy, there are those who are not exactly what you’d call “decent” people. Pirates, slavers, Astro-terrorists, you name it, they’re out there. The criminal backside that exists at the spiting of the Galactic Federation of Landrunia. The GFL has existed for a good many lifetimes, and is the ruling power found conveniently at the center of the galaxy. The GFL has set standards for thing ranging from education to currency to law in roughly 90% of Landrunia, but there are dark spots where they have little to no actual authority. These are places where another ruling power is already present, one that doesn’t need or doesn’t want the perks of being under GFL protection. Granted, “protection” is a little inaccurate considering the fact that all GFL worries about these days is appearances. They make fancy laws and keep the public happy but they don’t ever deal with the serious issues, like rights or illegal activity; All they do is make some big statement across galaxywide news and tighten security in some places. Other organizations butt heads with the government while concerning themselves with the things GFL is supposed to do, only to end up fighting legal battles for doing the jobs the government was supposed to do after GFL thinks they’re infringing on GFL regulation without the federal "protection" that comes with bribing the capital rulers that sit on their thrones of money. Ask yourself something, where do you fit in with all of the noise of sci-fi life in this galaxy? Well, wherever you choose. Maybe you’re a vigilante who skirts around the government working as a defense contractor for a company, maybe you’re a space pirate who raids derelict GFL Military ships before the government reclaims their old tech, or maybe you’re just an average GFL citizen who clocks into work every day and works half the cycle, and goes home to work on his old cruiser back home. This isn’t meant to be a very dramatic and serious roleplay, there’s going to be shenanigans, bad guy killing, and probably a good deal of political garbage but I absolutely would love some harder conflicts to occur, maybe some non GFL territories get war-like or maybe some very bad pirates raid a city and we’re all apart of some unofficial vigilante group who care about the city more than the government. Although, depending on who you ask, everyone cares more than the government; The federal dogs and their special interests only care about one thing- themselves. Landrunia is in their pockets and they're always tightening their grip where they can. What they don't realize is that they're lazy when it comes to power. Their material gluttony leaves them blind to the serious problems, Kastrack is a planet in poverty, lives are snuffed out for political agendas, and crime runs rampant in the more civilized places no more or less than the galactic countryside.

Sure, living in a political conglomerate's world might suck, but it has it's benefits. You can be anyone you want in a world like this, if you want to strike rich down in Kastrack, just work for the feds. You wanna go out there and claim a scrap of land the government hasn't touched? Go for it. Maybe you just want to do something small, like be a mechanic in a city who fixes up hoverbikes, nothing wrong with the simple life. It's a big world out there, full of stuff you've never seen and hopefully stuff you never will, if you can dream it up, it's probably waiting for someone to find it somewhere in the galaxy. Trick is finding it. The federation runs almost every square inch of the galaxy, no enemies to make but them when you go deep enough, but you might not make it that far, you might wind up dead in the swamps, hell, maybe you'll go chasing ghost stories out in the Brambles. Whatever spot you find yourself in, whatever side of the law you wind up on, who cares in the end? Everybody gets to where they need to be in the end, right?

Don't get shot.

---

This is a character-driven science fiction story whose details are determined by actions made by the players, the starside sky is the limit here, do what you want and reap the consequences. I have a pretty simple server for talking and discussing characters. We talk in here quite a bit about story and ideas, so some and chat with us.

Thanks for reading this far, and have fun.

---

But How Does The Story Work?

I'm glad you asked, if you check the discord server, we have a list of arcs that are currently planned. The way this works is I will start us off, you fill in the blanks, and we roll with it. If the story goes in a completely different direction that what I've offered, I'm totally fine with that. When I run an rp on this guild, I let everyone have as much control as me, so you could alter the story as a group as long as it works out. I will leave the explanation for the storyline right here, but absolutely everything is capable of changing depending on the way things go down, so don't count on things just yet. Also, there may be other things out there to look into during downtime or on the side, some people tell ghost stories of a place where the dead pray to a moon like their god, but you wouldn't know unless you found out.

Timeline of The Story

Ten Thousand Suns

The group travels to a tundral frontier outside the grasp of the federation known as Formalis. What we fought would be a simple salvage run to snatch federation tech from downed ships will inevitably turn into a run in with the vast, disorganized people known as the Skala who call the snowy place home. We learn of the Federation's plans to take this beautifully quiet place for themselves by any means necessary, and are left with the choice between a political sellout, and the honor of a planet's people.

Depths of Kastrack

We travel to the povertous paradise planet of Kastrack for some peace from our daily lives. The beautiful rolling waves of the 99% ocean planet will fall to federal confusion, however. Shortly after arrival we hear tell of the government shutting down tourist sectors of the waters- something Kastrack's economy thrives on. Someone has to find out what's going on, and the strange sightings normally uncharacteristic of the waves only paint a stranger picture. What will we find behind the yellow tape of the government?

Jet Black Brigade

After a disastrous run-in with the highest order of federal law enforcement, it looks like our lives are over at last, until a magistrate of the highest court in the land offers us a choice. We can spend the rest of our lives in individual maximum security prisons, where we will never see the sun again, or we can use our particular skills to hunt down another treasonous group of fugitives the federation wants dead or alive if we want our records cleared for good. No one gets a chance like this twice, and after the string of offenses we've been charged with in one way or another, we'd be stupid not to pass up this chance, right?

Waters of Infinity

Whatever we thought we knew about the world around us, whatever we thought we knew about the federation will fall away upon an astronomically unimaginable encounter with a thing of anticosmic radiance. All the lies of the galaxy, and the federation will finally be unearthed as we descend into the past to learn the origins of where humanity first discovered this strange galaxy, and identities of the dead gods whose bones the society we know today was built upon in the name of greed and envy. Everything will change, but only if we're ready for it.

The Last Ending

Years have passed since the latest actions of our crew. We put our old lives behind us to get to where we are, perhaps none of us have seen each other in years, maybe some of us never let go, but we've all lived long, fulfilling lives to get to where we are now, and we are surely happy, one way or another, with the things we did. None of us have any regrets, and that is all anyone can really ask for. That is what we thought, until we discover an old face from long, long ago, doing things few people live to talk about. Our pasts are pulled to the presence, and we are brought together to hammer the last nails into the coffin of our stories, but not before we go down an unknown road, one final time, together.

That's the story I had in mind, and we'll run into many different challenges and moments of laughter along the way, but we're in this together so I want to know what people think.

Rules

Don't be a dick. Plain and simple.

Don't metagame, powerplay, godmod, etc.

You can do damn near anything in this rp, but if you want to fight/kill another player, don't be surprised if or when you get your ass beat, just saying.

Post your character here first, then I'll review it and when I accept it you can move it to characters.

If you catch someone being homophobic/transphobic/intolerant of anything else in that regard, tell me, I won't kiss someone's ass if they're doing that to my players.

And lastly- have fun.

CS

[h2] [u]Name - Given name, alias, title, however you want to do this one, think about the naming conventions of your species and why you might have a certain title or nickname[/u][/h2]

[h3][color=][u][b]Appearance - Either an image, description, or both.[/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]Species - Elksie, Spryzen, Human, Android or something else, if you add a new species elaborate on it and make sure your name and age are in line with this. [/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]Gender - I’m not picky about this, Spryzen are naturally inclined to defying gender norms anyway.[/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]Age - Keep it in line with your species[/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]Personality - Tell me about who you are as a person? Brave? Opportunistic? Crazy? Trigger-happy[[/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]Reputation - Are you an outlaw? Do you live on the fringes of galactic civilization as a ranger, keeping small towns safe from bad people? Are you a runaway slave trying to keep your head down? Do people know your name, or are you a complete nobody? Who are you in this vast galaxy we call home?[/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]History - I’d be fine with as little as a singular paragraph here, or a whole book. However you want to do this is up to you, given the nature of the setting you can make up damn near anything you want for your backstory, and run with it. [/b][/u][/color][/h3]

[h3][color=][u][b]Gear - This will probably be the longest one here, this includes everything from your weapons, vehicle(s), wealth, and other things you’re starting with. Different characters will have different things, keep it in mind. If you include references, put them in hiders. Try to separate things as best you can based on what they are, so I can read better. [/b][/u][/color][/h3]

If you need help, ask me in the discord where we’ll all talk the most.

The Important Stuff

Below is a rough summary of things, if I don't specify something scientifically, just assume it works and roll with it. I don't want to sit down and write the astrophysical explanation of why the federation was able to colonize upwards of 90% of the galaxy without terraforming tech, and who wants to read that? Nerds... On that note, you can just make up scientific stuff if you need it for your character, I'm flexible about that stuff- you think I know what a radon hydronium battery does? No, but it sounds cool.

TLDR

The standard galaxy currency is credits, a small, glossy pale blue, 20cm by 15cm helium carbide chip that is issued by the federation, and can be converted into various fuels or resources by the right person, one credit is equal to 3.20 USD and there are smaller units, the semi-credit, which is 1.10, the mini-credit which is .55, and the micro-credit at .01 USD. Semis are 15x10 and micros are 7.5 by 6.

Space fairing vehicles are regarded as a whole different class of vehicles than others. There are land vehicles, water vehicles, and them space vehicles. There is no such thing as an all terrain vehicle since land cruisers cant fly typically. A very common spacecraft is the Canderain MS-50 model cruiser. Canderain is essentially the Ford, Dodge, or Ram of this world, and the MS-50 is the SUV of this world. Canderain is the common person’s type of vehicle, but there are others. Vaxen with their aggressive aesthetics of all vehicles, Amilary with their fancy BMW-esque vehicles. The average space vehicle costs roughly 75,000 credits, the average land vehicle is 50,000, and water is in between the two, but it varies more depending on gravity and atmospheric pressure, think of it like buying an off-road car in New York.

The standard language is english, but other languages exist depending on species, English is taught in every federation school and the metric system is standard.

Approximately 60% of all weapons that people can get their hands on are energy based, meaning they fire a laser, plasma, or simply fire a ballistic projectile with magnetism. The rest are like what we’re used to. Hammer, primer, ionized helium dust Xenon grade gunpowder. Firearms are separated by various characteristics such as power source and ammunition. Think of kinetic weapons and energy weapons in Destiny.

Examples :

FSD 99
Propellant : B-Grade Depleted Radon Powder
Ammunition : 5cm Tyranite Rounds
Class : Ballistic Sidearm

Karnzeli 55-70
Propellant : 20 KW Magnetic Induction Coils
Ammunition : Four-gauge Tungsten Bromide Rounds
Class : Gauss Rifle

Siber N-Lat
Propellant : Radon Hydronium Battery (50gw)
Ammunition : 3L Helium-Hydride Cell
Class : Light Energy Machine Gun



There are 4 main species playable here. Human, Elksie, Spryzen, and Android. Humans are humans, Elskie are gruff, rough skin people with fur and muscles on muscles. Spryzen are the equivalent of space fairies with knives, and Androids are, well, androids.

Vehicles

Depending on where you find yourself in Landrunia, you can find a generous variety of various futuristic transport mode to get around wherever you need. A hilarious oversight in GFL law means there are next to no laws for requisition of tech that has been lost. If you find a derelict GFL vanguard ship, it's yours.

99% of the vehicles in the galaxy have a standard of a sorts that their manufacturers follow, all space vehicles have basic commodities such as temperature and gravity controls, sea vehicles all have a radar of varying capabilities, and so on. Not every vehicle is made to corporate specifications in a galactic factory, some are rigged from shells of broken machines, or modified with the serial numbers filed off. You can expect anything from a rusted out panzer with floaters to a mechatronically augmented sea miner.

In each section there will be concept images to give you an idea of what you can expect different classes of vehicles to look like on a military level as well as a personal or otherwise. Federation machines are all very sophisticated tech in every aspect, you can tell it was made professionally, various companies follow their own standards, so public level vehicles are the most diverse, and everything else stands out as a junkyard with wheels if you're not good with machines.

Land

Most of the habitable planets in Landrunia are vastly similar with minor differences, therefore most companies make similar designs in terms of land vehicles, the differences are down to practicality, efficiency and a range of other personal preferences. With the sheer level of diversity in the vehicular department on all fronts, a land vehicle is classified as anything that is manned planetside, meaning it is only on the surface of some celestial body. Hoverbikes do not have wheels, but they're ground-level transport so they are land only, if you're not counting the amphibious ones. This includes everything from tanks, racers APCs, bikes, and various other street cruisers.


<sub>Standard Issue Federation Personnel Carrier, 10-16 seats, easy to find in old military bases, but very fuel-hungry.
“The funny thing is if you break in and steal one of these, you can crash it into the front gate and your whole crew can steal the rest of ‘em. Hard part is hotwiring it.”


Amilary's LR Landskater, a sci-fi sports car, not for rough endeavors.
”Don't park like an ass.”


A Vaxen Hoverbike stripped of its mufflers and ID specs, a job done by an experienced outlaw. This thing will sound like a chainsaw as it tears across the horizon.
”Love these things, Vaxen got their head on straight when they started pumping out bikes.”</sub>

Sea

Ocean travel isn't as common as land and space, but there are regional markets for seafaring depending on your location. The planet Kastrack is lovely this time of year. Most commercial sea vehicles are only good at the surface, even if they have a sealed cabinet, most can't last long at 30 meters down on any planet, but there are exceptions, shady exceptions but mostly governmental. There are a few amphibious vehicles out there that count as both land and sea, though they’re mostly ideal for land only, an example of this are some small personal hovercrafts, whose vertical propulsion allows enough surface tension to float comfortably and safely over bodies of water. In the outskirts of Landrunia, there are a few patchwork stretches of covalent marine planets with virtually zero dry land where the inhabitants live on water. It’s an interesting sight.


<sub>An Amilary Wellermire cruise ship. You don't buy this thing unless you're a snobby rich kid or a capitalist.
“Honestly, the only redeeming qualities Amilary stuff’s got is the comfy seats, only thing worth scrapping unless you gotta messed up engine.”


A standard issue GFL three man military expedition speeder, averages a top speed of 150km per hour.
“Ever seen infantry go boating? Me neither.”


Sea Floor Spider Miner. 100 meters tall from cockpit to foot, designed for mining on the ocean floor of particularly harmful waters, either ecologically or chemically.
”Heard these things cost around 600,000,000 credits a piece, usually they pay for themselves though. Mining’s good business.”</sub>

Space

A whole class in and of itself, spaceships are a bit special compared to most travel technology, in the 36 hour cycle that is set to the standard in Landrunia, time is based on the star at the very center of the galaxy, if you see that star anywhere in the galaxy, it’s day, otherwise it’s night. But you see the star, just called the sun, all the time in space, so two time systems are used. Planetside time and Starside time. For example, on the planet Kastrack, the time is 16:34 Planetside, but only 12:34 Starside. There are no time zones in space. While any class of vehicle has a few that you can live entirely in, that’s the most common with spacecrafts, some even have built in microwaves...


<sub>The Ninth God’s End. This one of a kind ship is the largest, most terrifying space craft in the history of the Federation, nobody alive remembers the stories, but they say this ship singlehandedly secured the Federation’s power when they united the galaxy in the Dark Age. Only a single person in the entire galaxy knows where this ship is located.
“Let’s just say there’s a reason the song “The Day Gods Cried Red.” has the name it does.”


A Canderain Owlface Model 2, personal transport with extended trip commodities from a bedspace to a pantry. Not for permanent living.
“Never liked the look’a these things from the outside but Canderain don’t cut corners. This’ll get you from Kastrack to Andzo-8 on half a tank no problem.”


An off-brand hovercraft someone drastically modified to fly into orbit, after many days of duct tape and salvaging silos for fuel containment.
“Don’t have any idea what’n the ship-hacking hell kinda conditions you gotta be living in where you gotta screw around with hover tech and get off your planet but turning a bike into a ship is cold shit. Gotta respect the nut who pulls that off.”</sub>

Species

Whether you learned English on the Kastracki shores or in the sands of Eyrkosh, you’ll find people of all shapes and sizes, from the bulky Elskie houses to the lords of the Spryzen to the remaining androids. The first four were created by me, Vrexul and beyond are player additions.

Human

No one really knows how humans showed up in this galaxy, but they’ve been here for as long as anyone else. Thankfully, there are no human-driven governments with nuclear arsenals running around here, or perhaps they’re not known. Humans live the shortest lives on average, despite incredible medicine in the Federation. Humans are simple creatures, they eat, they die, they show up where they don’t belong, and think they run things. They may not have impossible physical strength, or mutant wings, but humans can do most of the things any sentient species can do, unless magic existed.

Some people theorize that during the dark ages, it was the human race that founded the Federation, that is a lie of course, the Federation founded itself to preserve order. Humans are most commonly found towards the galaxy’s middle zone, or on planets with conveniently similar atmospheric pressures and gravities, since they can’t stand the things some people can without a special space fairing suit. Statistically speaking, human casualties make up the most number of medical incidents in hostile environments such as on military tours, in which case cybernetic limbs are supplied in exchange for service. Human federation soldiers get laughed a lot, particularly in good fun by Elksie comrades, for being dainty and weak.

Life Expentancy : 90 minimum, 110 maximum

Native Language : English

Naming : Most names you can think of for humans, but with some deviations depending on the individual. You might be from the galactic boonies and have a name like Rivet or Dak.

Name Examples : Connor, Xander, Frost, Branham, Jack, Lily, Cassidy.

“Hah! Flimsy little humans, you need muscles before you can call y’orself strong like Elskae! I joke, let’s eat, friend.”
- An Elskie GFL soldier poking fun at a scrawny human friend.

”What do you call a human dating a Spryzen...Er, I forgot that one. Nevermind...”

Elskie

Titanic strength and mile wide resolve. These are the core workings of the houses of the Elksie people. Elksie are naturally at least six feet tall, with skin reminiscent of earth and metal shades, speak with gruff, beastly voices that translate into English proudly. The three political Elskie houses, Gamaresh, Tackten, and Vuldoni, work together in their stretched communities across Landrunia to maintain the proud reputation of their people. Gamaresh is known primarily for their weaponsmithing mastery, but Tackten and Vuldoni work for all, it is culturally instilled in young Elskie runts to be strong and like a rock for their people. In their communities, it’s rare to see an Elksie who isn’t contributing dearly to their people, be they kin or otherwise. Their hearts are the left hand, and their muscle is their right. Even a runt who is barely a teenager can lift 30 kilograms with one arm tied behind their back with ease. Ten Elskae could carry a standard issue one seat GFL infantry spacecraft over their heads.

Elksie often have some manner of fur or manes on their body, especially in the colder regions of the galaxy, they are referred to as “Skala Elksie,” or “Polar Elskie.” Their skin is rough to the touch and comes in shades from copper to muddy brown. Skala are pale. Houses do not have any kind of cultural influence or class status affiliated with them inherently, they are simply agencies that represent the Elskie people in political matters and employ them where it can be done. Given the physiology of their singular vocal chord, they speak English the clearest out of everyone else, to make up for their odd, aggressive accents. Something the 200kg Elksie always jab humans about is the fact that humans can’t stomach Elskie food like they can. Ever ate a Titan Worm’s intestines during dinner? No? Flimsy human.

Life Expectancy : 150 years minimum, 190 maximum

Native Language : Elsate

Naming : If you’re born into, or join one of the three houses, your name is prefixed with their respective pronouns, Gamaresh is “Gazta,” Tackten is “Tok,” and Vuldoni is “Vam.” These are used in formal situations, such as addressing in the military or on business. Family and friends do not include house nouns when referring to Elskie.

Name Examples : Male - Gazta’Sagren. Fahnder, Vam’Droksal, Rydini. Female - Tok’Zeneer, Gran, Kolia, Gazta’Bearjet.

“Elas, mesc ruk. Zevr hak Gazta’Branhara do Fedrasi Armas.”
- Hail, young one. I am Gazta’Branhara of the Federal Army.

”Used to work for House Vuldoni, good people, made some of the best friends I ever had, the big lugs.”

Spryzen

A neon people of land and water, the Spryzen are vibrant in atmosphere and body with their biodiversity; their species is the highest observed being in the Federation’s society for genetic mutations, including wings, tails, or extra eyes. They’re strange to look upon at first, since two Spryzen might look like they’re both from entirely different universes, but beyond the surface, they resemble humankind more than anything. Spryzen were among the first to span to the stars, the vibrant eyed people founded the frontiers of Landrunia before Landrunia ever existed. Their scaly skin can be any color from crimson red to neon purple, their height fluctuates from five feet to six, and they are amphibious; Spryzen have three lungs, two for oxygen, and one for filtering out anything in water. This is what the rest of the people call the Spryzen’s “Sick Lung” since it is their equivalent of a human’s liver- the waters of Landrunia are dangerous. Spryzenite culture is as fluid as their existence, few can agree on their core values, but they boil down to basic respect for others and the natural world, it’s therefore quite common to see them in environmental careers such as mining and farming, as they believe in treating nature with dignity in all ways.

The Elksie have their houses to represent them in Federation politics, and the Spryzen have what is known as the Draavali Lords, a pseudo-oligarchy of elders who interpret their values and work with the Federation on the preservation of the Talimalzen; The Talimalzen are a series of Pre-Federation laws and codes that bound all Spryzen territory under order. In those times, the Draavali were the highest law. Today, large Spryzen communities with legal recognition obey the Talimalzen to the letter until the Draavali have to step in. Draavali law can be summarized as “Don’t be stupid.” But the Draavali are the final say on any Spryzen issue, even the Federation can’t step in on that specific field, they’re effectively a small form of the Supreme Court. When the Spryzen speak, it’s difficult to tell their voices from a machine, their voices carry a hollow smoothness to them, like water washing over bronze.

Life Expectancy : 210 minimum, 320 maximum

Native Language : Spryzali

Naming : Elegant names with no concept of a gendered etymology. Many Spryzen choose their own names once they come to a certain age, and it’s common to see them break out of their biological identity, transgender people exist in all species, but the Spryzen culture is the most welcoming of that. If you’re not a Spryzen yourself, it can be strange to understand their culture very well, but it all works out.

Name Examples - Saasily, Drendil, Astercomva, Cozallia, Nandxe, ixilaf, Qala, Parteyl.

“Zenzia me tryl xol Dra lans, veleeris dakiamos celtaya o fet sesa, galin se sa ves cami ne waltemi.”
- An excerpt from the Talimalzen. “Slaughter in the name of nothingness, theft committed not for preservation, hate unto others, will be one’s own undoing.”

”Spryzen. They’re tough, got crushed by the Feds ages ago and they’re still kicking. Y’just can’t get rid of that.”

Android

In a time long forgotten to everyone else, dark events led to artificial sentience and exploitation. Androids are former shells of human minds cursed with semi-immortal bodies that rarely tire, and minds that never sleep. They are a broken people plagued by ghosts of things their hardcoded minds can barely fathom anymore. The strangest thing about them is what keeps them moving forward, no one knows. Dead Androids used to turn up all the time in the hands of mad scientist, the poor bastards were killed for nothing; Androids emit a very faint micro-radiation signature that can be picked up with some tech, implying some form of battery powers them, but dead ones do not. You can lobotomize a thousand Androids and you will not find the source of their sustenance. They are a scientific mystery whose origin is remembered by only a small few of them. You will rarely find an Android who survived the Dark Age countless lifetimes ago, but they’re out there.

An Android’s body is very clearly humanoid, with the exceptions of needing food and water, they are as intelligent as humans and are capable of speech. Some sound mostly human and others sound as if they’re speaking through a radio. Their metal bodies that exist from shiny and polished to corroded surfaces can take all kinds of abuse, and strangely enough, they feel pain. Perhaps their enigmatic creators made it as a sick joke, or maybe it was necessary for their syntho-synaptic matrices in place of a brain. If drastic damage is sustained, such as a broken or severed limb, repairs are possible unlike organic beings. Many Androids are skilled in mechanical maintenance, it’s their form of medical assistance. It’s the most they can do since it’s common for Androids to avoid showing their faces in public, the Federation doesn’t protect them.

Life Expectancy : Virtually Ageless, Androids do not die naturally.

Native Language : English

Naming : Androids do not have consistent naming. Some don’t remember their name and some faked their deaths and refurbished their bodies to escape old lives.

Name Examples : Caz, Ryder, Bolts, 95, Granger, Solin, Kyb-eR, Jonah.

“There are no results for the search term “Android Origins” in the Federation’s Database, please try again.”
- The response you get trying to research the history of where Androids came from in Federation WiFi.

”It wasn’t like it was today, back then. There were more of us, didn’t have Amilaries, didn’t have bureaucrats tellin’ us what to do. It’s never been easy being a machine.”

Vrexul

Credit: @LustForDecay

Pronounced “vuh-rex-sull”. Massive and mysterious creatures known for being as terrifying as they are reclusive. They resemble enormous arthropods with dense carapaces bristling with cybernetics and integrated external biomass like living biomechanical juggernauts. They can move bipedally or on up to around 30 limbs. On average they are between seven and ten feet tall with a few species being around five foot six and a few rare specimens around 20. They are pioneers and leaders when it comes to augmentation technology to the extent some of them are basically small habitats for performance-enhancing symbiotes and hidden integrated tools. In spite of being reminiscent of arthropods such as ground and rove beetles, decapods, myriapods, huntsman and wolf spiders, earwigs, crickets, and so on, their populations are not particularly large due to a variety of ground-up population controls. A number of them are capable of strange, eldritch powers some have claimed to be magic or sorcery but appears to be some sort of genetically inherited or induced energy manipulation.
For most of history they were a scattered series of independent worlds that maintained a distant but not hostile relationship with frontier worlds of the GFL and nearby independent colonies. As they began to grow closer to them, their distinctly communal style of societal organization emphasizing mutual aid and bottom-up sociopolitical organization began to gain traction with increasingly disaffected and downtrodden parts of Landrunian space. Sensing a potential threat near to them, the GFL would respond at first by expanding into vrexul space and attempting to simply absorb them into their own but as their methods grew more intrusive, so did resistance become physical. Re-subjugation of these colony worlds and a number of vrexul ones brought with it a joint war of resistance with both guerrilla and professional militaries still bitterly fighting over territory to this day. As of now, GFL gains are starting to diminish as a brutal large scale counter-attack by the vrexul and the independent colonies has caught them fof guard.

They are known for a mixture of biological and cybernetic technology integrated into their own bodies, those of combat organisms, and even living constructs of chitin and metal. Their technology jumps between fairly rugged and simple to eldritch and complex. Many of them have multiple additional limbs, organs, appendages and so on they were not born with and are capable of "encoding" weapons or gear they can morph out of their own mass. They are generally distrustful of empires like the GFL and have a reputation for being intransigent and vicious though how much of this is true is unknown due to heavy propaganda campaigns against them.
Native Languages: Vrexir

The spoken vrexul language is an incredibly difficult one to understand because the sounds are near impossible to replicate for most. They are a series of harshly dry scrapes, booming and bassy growls, clattering or chittering noises (or both), and what sounds like backmasked speech. They have “words” but they are not an entirely verbal languages with multiple layers of sound used to change the implicit meanings and implied emotion behind what is said. Combined with a communicating via mandible positioning, feeler waving, how fully one is facing the other, pheromone emission - it is borderline impossible to translate except by other vrexul due to its absurd complexity, something their complex brains have evolved to understand as easily as say, English. They have a simplified form of it that resembles various Slavic languages (that others are capable of learning without heavy modifications to their mouthparts) that is also their written form though the characters are similar to Chinese in terms of their architectural, multi-sectioned appearance albeit far more pointy and insectoid.

Name examples:

Szrevren Halcilavic, Zrvrodna Marczykrvtz, Nliralko Valarszarin

Age:

They grow to around 200 years but a few can live longer with heavy biomodifications.

Other Creatures

These are not playable, but they are seen in various places throughout the galaxy, but perhaps you will come across unruly beasts not yet discovered. The world is yours.

Lotholi

Lotholi are scraggily parasites who need one thing to sustain themselves and one thing only: protein. They are palm sized scavenger crustaceans who feed on carcasses to gnaw and nibble on the unpicked tendons and muscle to get by. The timid little things do not have stomachs, they don't have digestive systems, or bones, or even a nervous system, all they have are a brain, eyestalks, tongue, and a tangling mass of fluid pillowy which legs which consisist of a singular artery. The body of a lotholi is 99% protein based matter, the only exception is the two sharp teeth they have in their cylindrical mouths. The mouth is found behind their legs, which they use to pull pieces of flesh into. Lotholi often live in large colonies of at least 40, and like to hide from the sun in moist, dim areas such as in moldy homes or in soft dirt.

Given the frail physiology of their bodies, lotholi like to find protection in the form of shells, their brains are located outside their bodies, and as a result, this is the most vulnerable place on their fleshy bodies, so they will crawl inside just about anything they can fit onto them to keep themselves safe while being able to chew on food from cover, this includes anything from a soda can to a human skull. Skulls are the easiest thing to detect a lotholi under, since the skull is almost guaranteed to be picked clean by the creature wearing it.

"So, imagine a really pudgy and blood red spider that has a damn head on it. Nasty is all it is, they're crabs, but they're fleshy...

Boglhoss

Swamp dwelling, omnivorous scavenger animals that are found in sulfuric environments. The dark membrane on the outside of their bodies acts as a stomach to ingest and store sulfur from wherever it can be found, volcanic swamps, waste-landfills, flooded caves, and so on. Their acidic, semi-liquid skin will chemically break down anything that comes into contact with it, and will leave behind anything not able to be assimilated into their bodies for food, which gives Boglhosses a deceptive appearance of being solid-skinned. They do not have regular digestive systems, their skin digests food and dilutes the nutrients across the dermoplasm that coats their bodies. Boglhoss are inherently very passive predators, their large claws and lack of eyes means they only rely on ear canals found within their rib cage, close to their heart. They use the reverberations from their heart as natural, constant echolocation to find their way around, and are very hard to scare, or kill. If any kind of organic matter at all touches them for more than a few seconds, they will begin to liquify. This makes them hard to kill, as even their footsteps leave decaying prints on the dirt.

The most active form of hunting a boglhoss ever had to do in its life is to reach out and embrace their food in a hug. Once you get past their large claws designed for frontal stability, you are Boglhoss food, and your friends will watch as you sink into their gelatinous bodies, looking into their eyes as you feel your own body begin to fall apart in a matter of minutes as food. The sulfur they store in their bodies reacts chemically with the mucus that they secrete to form their dermal stomach acid. Any exposed organic matter will dissolve with ease.

“It’s a damn good time to be an Android when you see that thing.”

Eykorshian Sakraks

Sakraks are desert mammals founds exclusively on Eyrkosh. To the people who live on this blistering desert planet, Sakraks are incredibly important. They are beasts of burden, steeds, and are often regarded as an Eyrkoshian’s best friend. When they stand on their hind legs, they can touch up to 7 feet tall, but when in all fours, they’re the height of a large horse; The dune hopping people on Eyrkosh ride them as such and use them for pulling cargo, or trade them for various things. It is quite common to see them in wild herds roaming the sands. Sakraks are intelligent enough to understand basic commands such as "stay" or "onwards," there is a tradition among the more seasoned dune-traveling people on Eyrkosh involving riders forming a bond with their Sakrak that goes beyond rider and steed, sometimes extending to the Sakrak's children.

Sakraks weigh on average 100kg from birth and 200 and up during adulthood, wild Sakraks travel in herds on the sandy plains, but they are rarely seen on the shores of the vast lakes that dot Eyrkosh’s pale surface. This is due to the fact that Sakraks do not require a lot of water, and therefore do not need to stay close to large bodies in order to stay healthy. One liter of water could set them up for a week of travel across the sand and back before they broke a sweat.

“Heard those things could outrun a Canderain in a race, never been to Eyrkosh to find out though.

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Vali Dro

Known on Eyrkosh as the scariest predator around, Vali Dro are psuedo-arachnid carnivores that make homes in the sand to store their prey. They stand at roughly eye level to humans on their nine, triple jointed legs, the odd number of legs they posses is due to the fact that on leg acts as both a leg and a tail. Their feet have three 6 inch toes on each of them, but the ninth leg differs due to the fact that the toes are never shorter than half a foot. A Vali Dro will use this to grab and latch onto things with the intention of burying them for later use or simply eating them instantly.

What makes Vali Dro so terrifying is in part to do with their name- "Vali Dro" in Eyrkoshian translates to "Sand Chest." That is a reference to the way Vali Dro preserve their prey for later consumption, by digging gaping pits into the warm sand, and using their saliva to harden it like stone. They make burrows big enough to fit a few Elksie in, and make pot shaped cocoons for their food. Prey is hard to come by in the dunes, so they will proceed to pump their catch full of excess saliva to effectively mummify them until they get hungry.

"I want nothing to do with Eyrkosh, thank you very much."

Namah

Better known as "String Necks" by Kastracki sailors, namahs are essentially very passive loch ness monsters. They are marine mammals that like to dwell in the dim levels of the ocean planet, where the water is much cooler. namah schools are often seen in foggy, cold waters towards the poles of Kastrack, this is why few people ever go to these regions, even the sailors who make livings off of fishing in the remote places; Though namahs don't attack people, and instead choose to filter feed microbial life for food, there is a small group of Kastracki people that historically gave namahs a very bad reputation. The Namah Riders of the 2930s resisted federal colonialism for decades before they were defeated by advancements in technology. To this day, people still sing the song "Unseeing Steeds" when talking about the past.

Namahs are roughly teen feet long from their nose to their tailfins, and their neck reaches up from their body 4 to 5 feet in the air. Their form consists of two large fins that resemble that of a tortoise, with two smaller ones at their flank, namahs can swim through the top of the water faster than some of the older federation boats could. Strangely enough, they are blind. The sunken places in their heads that resemble empty eye sockets are actually their ears they use for echolocation. You will typically hear the hollow wailings of these gentle sea beasts through the mists long before you see them. Despite their peaceful nature, the Namah Riders caused a near complete extinction of the creatures in the late 3250s when the federation sprung for chemical warfare.

"And you'll see...the Unseeing Steeds, fog of war...What? Oh, nothing..."

Planets

Formalis

A frigid planet of tundras, crag and northern Fjords where the sun is rarely visible through the foggy sky. Formalis is in an area of the galaxy which the Federation doesn’t control, though there has been talk of plans to colonize the planet. Formalis has no rotation or orbit, it doesn’t move from its spot in the galaxy. Towards the southern pole of Formalis is the warmest place on the entire planet, a cluster of valleys and glades that get just above the freezing temperature of water, while life fairs just fine in most of the planet, this is the most “lively” place for nature to grow. The northern side of Formalis is vastly different, it is covered in mountains and great bodies of water formed from crashing glaciers, the biggest of which is found at the northern pole in the form of a vast, polar sea.

Formalis is a quiet planet, life is not easy to come by on the icy plains, large herds of woolen creatures can be seen high on the mountains, hard-shelled scavengers occasionally poke out of their minuscule caves, but the most common creature is an offshoot of the Elksie that live on virtually every stretch of their planet. They are known as the Skala, scattered groups of clans that live off of the land in whatever way they can handle. Some Skala build homes in the stuff dirt to hide from the cold, others are nomadic and never sleep in the same area, hunting what and where they can, and some pull food from the waters up north in large boats. Though they all speak the same manner of language, and may occasionally interact with each other, no two clans of Skala are the same.

Though the cold can be manageable to everything that lives on Formalis, there is one place that nothing can survive, a place known best by nomads and wanders as Mesurganjyr- The Place Where Death Died. Mesurganjyr is at the base of the highest Formalisian mountains in the center of the planet, it is physically impossible for anything to survive there because what little warmth reaches the entire planet cannot reach that part. It is virtually absolute zero in this zone, and the only thing you can see beyond a few inches from your face are the stars in the sky. A spaceship's engine will freeze and stall in a matter of seconds, a person will freeze in minutes, but only because of the time it would take to wander into Mesurganjyr. There are no Skala, there are no trees, there is absolutely zero life. Nothing survives Mesurganjyr.

_{If you read this far I have a gift for you.}

【 Spy High 】

@Hitman

Nightstalker

Nightstalker stayed by the window she jumped through. Stay low and slow on the ground to wait for the other team to pass, her own team was already setting to work; Binx dropped charges everywhere, Bug probably went to find a computer room, and the enemy was on the move. "I'm going in." She took off in a slow moving sprint, quiet enough to be near silent and fast enough to beat someone who might be walking a little more cautiously to spot cameras. The inner workings of the building were damaged, broken pillars and dusty old cubicles dotted the place. It was good cover, a lot of places she could hide, but Nightstalker didn't need to hide just yet, she needed to get out in front of her team to relay information to the ones behind her. The girl took to "back street" maneuvers as best as she could; running around buildings, behind pillars, and occasionally ducking to scan for the others, if someone did walk out into the open, she'd be in a good position to flank them and bring them down. Nightstalker hopped from one office cubicle to the next, as the light pouring in from outside got a little dimmer, but not enough such that one couldn't see. It was quiet, and hopefully Binx hadn't been spotted yet, she was the demolitionist on this team, meaning she could take out the most enemies with the least attacks, and she had the observer camera so see through her visor, that shouldn't fall to the enemy's hands. Finally the girl came to a halt underneath a desk in one of the cubicles, roughly a third of the way through the building to collect herself.

It was dead silent currently, Nightstalker listened outwards for anything that could give her a clue as to where the enemy team was; footsteps, clothes rubbing against each other, someone loading a gun. Nothing. Warheit wouldn't be this close, he was probably outside- best to stay away from the windows. While she was there, she took a second to flip through the info Hiram gave them. The pitch black basement stood out to her the most, Nightstalker was the only one capable of seeing in the dark, maybe she could drag someone down there and leave them blind, maybe an exit strategy, maybe a bomb can be moved there if their locations are compromised. "This is Nightstalker, I'm out ahead of you guys," She said through the comms in a low voice, "I'm scouting, I don't see any sign of them yet, wait-" Suddenly a couple of distant thuds rang out, gunshots. One after another, but no one in pain. "I hear something now..." Nightstalker drew an arrow and readied her bow, poking her head barely out of cover. Nothing. She eyed a pathway forward between the cubicles, seeing no one overhead of them, and she almost put the arrow away until the very large whoosh that followed them. Someone found a bomb.

"One of the bombs is down..." She radioed to her team. That wasn't very far from her location, so maybe Nightstalker could put someone out for the day. Okay, think...It can't be Erik, he's a sniper usually, Nox...Ben, Carmen... only one way to find out. "I'm going to investigate." And with that she was gone. Alice quietly skulked down the hallway for a bit, listening for signs of enemy activity, she could faintly hear some kind of metallic noise, and someone speaking. Alice pulled the bow string back as she neared whoever was talking, two people- Ben and Carmen. Easy targets. She finally stopped right outside of Ben's field of view, Carmen was climbing into a vent. She was safe from her, but Ben was out in the open with his attention elsewhere, perfect...

Nightstalker readied her bow up to eye level as she crouched down behind cover, the arrow sliding backwards into a fully drawn position, as she aimed at Ben. Square in the chest. She held her shot on him for a moment, contemplating aiming somewhere else to immobilize him, or even hospitalize him. It wouldn't matter, Ben was scrawny, small, he likely wouldn't get back up unless she underestimated Agent Shortstack. She let go of the arrow, which zoomed through the air almost too fast to acknowledge. Ben was victim to an ambush.