I am the Hashka's page

Where does one volunteer to join the Cult of Fat? I recently applied for a job at McDonalds, I think I'm getting close.

Basically the Ronald House, except fantastic and magical with a sort of reverse heart disease effect. Apply at your local cafe on the corner of Iron Hilda Avenue and the Path of Ten Goats.

Long into the past, I posted a thread on a homebrew setting I've ran a few times in dense clusters of games since then. "Anum Suyat, the Pale Sky" being said setting of pseudomodern, slightly Eberron style magitech modern fantasy. A notable fact I wanted to address was the idea that with your company (Being your work group of sorts, your true occupation) and your caste (the assumed role or function you serve as your species or clan (Mulyandear labourers, half orc police, cyclopskin mystics, so on). An issue I met was that through the fact that a class in the roleplay format (Which is more key than mechanics) a lot of the classes seem an odd thing to devote life or even a notable section to, from more obscure archetypes, to actual classes (Like the vigilante). So in my Eastern style setting with it's heavy magitech elements, I'd like to propose a selection of possibilities and in turn, ask for some ideas for more direct archetypes.

Barbarians- The eugenic and alchemically reformed and well bred berserker lawkeepers of Anum-Suyat, the Great Port on the Fen. Each one is modified with supplemental organs, sensors, and glands mixed with subtle arcane and biochemical modifications, as well as instinctive modifications. The result is a powerful, canny warrior that does well both in spurts of inhuman activity and protection of the civil peace. Ranging from spindling to hulking, your usual "Rajput" has a wide chest, long powerful limbs and a rather even height for their race, rather than looking or small, the better to navigate the often vertical as much as horizontal city paths. Many lack alternative training as Rajput, living and dying with a mixture of occultic herbalism, man-hunting tactics, and even atavistic mysticism to better understand the chemical-possession rites literally infused into them. The vast majority come from the Orc-kith clans, not for an innate rage, but the hybrid mutation overstimulating the adrenal glands and the like. Resulting in flexible survivalists easy to bring to law and order, from Special Tactics and Operations, to the less obvious, like Intimidation and Interrogation, or even the scariest crossing guard you will ever encounter.

Fighters- The classical soldier of many ages, where many would find heavy plate or possibly a waifish swordsman, the Pale sky breeds a difference. Fighters' bodies through a mixture of successive enhancements and training often result in the typical soldier flexibly filling every role you can think of, from shipboard masters of the cannon that can throw a punch with nostrils that smell fear, and an auditory membrane that can find, serving as a sort of specialist worker with a more martial bent. Several are full company or caste adherents, amplifying what is innately born into them through refinement, enhancement and self improvement. Many become often referred to as "Savants", devoting themselves to tactics and their crafts slowly turned to something more martial or based in such, from fighting surgeons, to writers that produce elaborate poetry on the nature of a sinew tearing or warping, or what the tears of a dying comrade look like in the glint of an enemy's blade. Steadily reaching self understanding through war itself. Many even change themselves to fit these ideas, a knife wielder's errant hand reshaped to turn a blade with flat planes and reinforced joints for a spring effect to each motion is not uncommon in this trend.

Clerics- As the countless cults of the Pale Sky praise the concepts of reality, and not the gods, several variant clerics exist, serving as generators of concepts, arcane demagogues and specialists guilds-masters of various concepts and ideas, from the healing masters of the Cult of Fat, to the Chroniclers of rust, pest control of the Genocidal "House of Liquid PYrite" and so on. The indoctrination into beliefs and perpetual experimentation in infatuation into the cult, and self dissolution into the act of service leads many of them to become the face of hope and compassion to many common people. Where the rails fall, the Clerics of the cult of metal tend and soothe the workers in their lulls of prosperity. Where the dead go to the place of silence, the clergy of death offer those few willing a new life as spirits in the city, guardian wards and masters. Given that most cults consume sections of the assorted companies, praising and learning the highest mysteries and simple truths of how reality works. Many of these understandings are offer and taught. For a price.

Mesmerists- Psycho-analysists, therapists, and treaters of mental issues. Many double as cultural researchers, information gatherers and members of the sociological fields. Several learn their skills through awareness and subtle manipulation or amplification of their innate sense of personality.

To be continued)

Sword and Gun in the stars, aface to face with blade and whit, sinews of chemically boosted iron, an attempt and preamble for my work of love campaign setting "Eternal and Everpresenc is Humanity.
This thread is to pick apart and seek further concepts to use for the campaign hewn together from Deathstalker, Iron Lords of Jupiter, Barsoom, He-Man (and Masters of Umdaar) as well as Cryptark, Adventures In Space Garbage and Book of the New Sun among my own attempts further, now to be translated to D20 (Pathfinder) fused with Fate. Please critique, query or suggest as needed, there are numerous motes I left out.

Mankind was born alone in the cosmos a thinking beast, yet amid the innumerate ages from genesis, he spanned the stars, sundering and ressurecting himself. From his artifice came the "Roll Engine" the flickering instant transmission system now connecting the cosmos. Genes warped and flensed into desired shapes, There is little that man has not touched, and less of Earth remains amid the distant empires aspan ten galaxies. At some point prior and lost in the ashes of old worlds man's artifice became limitless. Distance meant nothing when a Roll or Scrape Engine warped space, instant transposition across the cosmos, across worlds. Buildings rose, single houses connected to ten worlds, a room under an Ivory sun, a kitchen in the light of a binary violet. With artifice and the mechanisms of older man left, came a sloth of descendants. Gates grew silent, and arbitrary limits of Roll-Ships manifested. Numerous long nights across a cosmos, technology lost, genes melded and broken. Empires manifested nascent power to bind the universe, at gun once, before the blade remained en power. Mankind had become degenerate, barbarians hoarding the Doors across Space, the ancient weapons of range and missile subsumed and supplanted by the fencers art, of shield dancing and sword, the rare gun a salvaged, crude thing of high caliber and great danger. Amid the arbarian clans of the world, some hold technology of steam, fusion, or even pocket dimension. Man is alone and turning upon itself in the name of a thousand ideals, whether betusked sages, augmented void dwellers, or artificer giants. What few remain are the Guilds, ancient groupings maintaining technology, exploration, and controlling hte scape of wars. Man is a feudal beast with monarchal and aristocratic parlaiments contorlling the innumerate variations of humanity, and fighting eachother and themselves over space, resources, and faith. It is an uncertain, crude time. It is the time of the blade, the wit, and the daring.

The Universe known is ten galaxies, crossed by precision use of the Roll Engine. Technology is degenerated, with aircraft and stone castles, nanogenic computers and fencing schools and maille coats existing aside. Man has degenerated, reliant on self perpetuating, or mechanically simple systems, often modified with errant inventions, such as liquid blades, nanodust, and ultrasharp blades. Ancient structures and self perpetuating machines astrewn planets, stars and the ebony atween with countless structures, from bridges between stars populated by daggermaster hermits, to the rare missile battery left guarding the horizon of a nebula long compressed into a protostar. Man ranges from vatformed brutes, to eyeless mystics, augmented space farers, or animal admixtures with a thousand thousand different shapes and states. War has been supplanted by simple weapons, impellor locks, firepikes, and blades. Shields had long stopped innacurate warfare, and a gun is oft the first volley or an ambush weapon for the steaming streets of a lowtown brawl, before blades are drawn. The Iterna Confederation itself is noted as one of the few remaining producers of missile weapons, with magnetic locks, grenades and the rarest of all, heavy repeaters in some use among elite troops. Stone and wood return, oft spliced and interspersed with steam and nanogenics, entire primitive clans living under a shielded dome in the lower levels of a gas giant, or astride a walking city amid a star's face. Man is primitive, and adorned the glyphs of a God. Barbarity is common, starvation and war constant and raging, unified armies oft appearing instantly and rending apart entire planets in hours, yet man endures, if only to scar and be rended again. Amid man's innumeracy, comes artifice. Steam and flesh are mastered, entire stars held in false life and astrewn over with steam and mechanisms plunging into the Atomfire Hells within. Man's genes sundered from efforts arcane and eugenic, nobilitiy and wanders often barely akin of flesh to those they rule, the sole measure of mankind itself broken over a godless wheel. With time has come the awaking of the mind to matters telepathic and psionic, or even rarer yet the subroutines of reality, true, horrific an gloried magery slung from ancient and new lines of sorcerors, often warped to conduct the throbbant reality straining high of a spell or even the strange, gargling tendrils of something outside reality.
From magic comes machinery, augmented men and the descendants of build races clash over starving, crude worlds with barely an once of blackpowder a continent. Fusion steam driven trains aspan entire solar systems or vast, hardlight bridges that flicker and dance amid themselves wtiht the errant motions of stars. Implants of liquid data or chemical glands are yet ubiquitous amid the fighting, funloving, and frightening. Man is a twisted thing, with even errant pleasure subjected to the waxing of time, Time the sole inhabitance, an untread path only errantly ministrated in alien orbits, or the rare perception augmenting implants turning an hour to seconds, or a jiffy to an eon in the name of experience. From the steelfleshed sons of the Imperito House of Jova, to the beastmen ubiquitous to Technobarbaric worlds, Robotic Shipmen born from ancient self aware voidsuits, or even those converted to raw energy from trans dimensional exposure. One binding comes amid man, the apex of construction. Yet never made by man as he knows himself, the innumerate objects of power, keys to War and Wandering Pace of Man in foreign realities, the Blades Absolute.

Star Swords, Godly Foci, the Blades Absolute, Keys of the Cosmos Unseen, these are the epithets amid the countless of the blades, each a vast, alien weapon made for nonhuman hands, if only in subtleties and weighting. Each bears a distinct method to slay and protect, from weaponized sounds that cut the ears of what hear it drawn, to a rather infamous example that used entropy itself as an edge, piercing anything in any known reality, to the less linear, the Night Stilled, a cloud of trans dimensional glass conjuring a maelstrom that cuts the innate threads of physics binding an object, or the "Touch Of the Broken Throne" using coutner momentum and inertia to produce and distort trajectory and motion with the subtlety of an Atomic Salvo across entire continents. Yet, aside offence is another means, the bearers of these Absolute Blades bear a second role, for each sword manifests a pseudomechanical frame known as "The Panoply" from a suit of living glass, a cloud frame that burns light itself into it's HEat Death, or a Spheric Armature of hard sound, about the user. These blades oft induce strange gnarls of physics aside even their mighty abilities, with Kings, the ascent of Empires reflected in each "Blade" as well as the end of such in the end of an arcing swing. Yet here come the mist shrouded protagonoi, making gelt and seeking glory in a fluidic and furious cosmos, here comes you, to seek the Blades for whatever means! Onward to sundering of the stars themselves in your path and dulling in your wake.

Amid my ascriptions are a primitive data transfer system using controlled sound emissions, cellular phones and the hereditary berserker Rajput, so ubiquitous that orcbloods are oft considered Rajput immediately (As yet is our wizard).

The grounders are probably adapting to the plasmatic seas. This includes sea weeds, sea serpents, luminous fishmen, ect. Like one of the early Dr Who episodes, there might be animals mostly made of metal and full of energy.

You probably have a history in mind and the people in charge are probably trying to hide it.

While not currently encountered, the plasmic seas were rather ancient and present prior to the inhabitation and rise of the continents themselves, however yet biometallic entities do exist and energetic entities do dwell underneath the waste and in the Pale Sky. The floating nations are large enough to contain an entire campaign, with the small floating continents being the size of a small continent, the largest holding entire oceans and simple tectonics.

I like it. Were you to bring something like that to my table, I'd certainly be super happy to give it a try. Assuming your players are open to a floating island story of sci-fantasy technology and indian-flavored exoticism I'm pretty confident they should be intrigued.

So the pitch is solid. You said you were looking for folks to help constructing it? What blanks did you want help filling? I'd be more than happy to lend you some brainpower.

Thank you, I'd like help with politics and more distant nations, the beasts and fiends of the Pale Sky or even the Wastes beneath, anything at all, from artifice to arcana.

I like it. Were you to bring something like that to my table, I'd certainly be super happy to give it a try. Assuming your players are open to a floating island story of sci-fantasy technology and indian-flavored exoticism I'm pretty confident they should be intrigued.

So the pitch is solid. You said you were looking for folks to help constructing it? What blanks did you want help filling? I'd be more than happy to lend you some brainpower.

Any concepts for the political, mechanical or esoterant, as my players are a squad of Guild Troubleshooters with connections to the "Elven Families" a rather subsumed mafia.

Lots of cool stuff here. I wonder how easy it is to access some of this magitek (runic computers, skycraft, elecropyrotechnic projector guns) for the player characters? Do they cost thousands or tens of thousands of gold (or whatever currency you're going to use), or would they only be available to those in favor with some guild, or is it fairly easy to pick up the equivalent of a modern smartphone?

If someone falls off a skycraft are they likely facing 20d6 damage, or is there something like Eberron's feather fall tokens (one-use 50 gp items which can cast feather fall) in your setting?

From the names I'm getting an impression of the Indian subcontinent rather than the whole of Asia, or general 'Eastern', despite the mention of samurai. Is that right?

Relatively simple or nonagressive technology is rather cheap, as one of the players has a cellular phone with speed dial and agitating ringtones (A fli phone). More advanced and exotic technologies such as "Wind Walls" (A layer of air between two pillars that function as a motion sensor) or a more sophisticated or multi prediction computer system is moderately more expensive and may require a guild loan, where yet sky ships and light vehicles (And projectors (Usually) are rather cheap and affordable, as is Chakra Manipulation of hte Body or a prosthetic implant.

I'm a moderately new and rusted GM, yet after a measure of repeated watching of Afro Samurai and a long desire to discard medieval tropes I've decided to attempt to conjure forth a Magitek setting with heavy Anachronism and Eastern elements, while yet querying for ideas from the fertile commmunity. Forgive my horrid writing prowess. I ask for criticism and construction of this concept, and aid in making it.

The World is a vast sea of dense, energized gas ascent of a marred and upheaving Waste, mined and wandered by those too primitive or poor of timing to rise on a floating landmass during ascent. The Wastes are poor, and yet above them is a hunger for what they bear. The epicenters of the setting are the "Continent acast of the Pale Sky", vast floating nations and entire empires adrift from the energetic wind, astrewn with advancing and clashing peoples, from the wandering "Nomad Admirals' in vast skycraft that chase storms to bottle, to the trade city and epicenter of my camaign "ANum Suyat" a refinery and shipping city of runic technology, strange sciences and countless races under the golden hands of hte Guilds and the Jackboot of the Orcblooded Rajput and Sagely Elfblood Shedi. Anum Suyat itself is affixed amid a vast, cold fen at a crucial point of passage for wandering skisles and the long haulers and miners of the rich scarred land beneath. With this wealth has come technology, from runic computers to the epitome of ranged warfare, the elecropyrotechnic projector gun or older, cruder revolvers. The city is an admixture of the primitive and pristine, with simple earthen pubs carved into the stones, aside data stores, record shops and passed by magitek road engines. Anum Suyat is rarely hunger, but never truly peaceful, as Guilds contest themselves and eachother for the wealth of pacing ships, the prestige of the finest contracts, the favour of the supposedly impartial guildmasters. A howling and loud city. Cults innumerate and often infused into common life, worshipping nature or the rare cults of prestige, imparting the elements into themselves. Vast temples devoted to such Gods as "Iron", "Rust" "Satiation" and headed by Oracles speaking with the sound of broken glass, and shadows solid eyes that see the stars, and nothing else. The great Pale Sky brings foreigners and intrigue, as Guilds and Gentry attempt to out market or assail the nemesis City State of the Bronze Jari, hiring mercenaries and corsairs to contest the rare alloys and technologies traded along the Windpath currents and the fearsome Elecrum Stormships vast floating fortresses composed of lightning and crewed by immortal golden men.

With the countless warring factions and barely held civility, the various races of Anum-Suyat tend to gather in "Companies", from the Mulyan Dwarven Labour pools, masters of ferroglass and the brawl, to the famed and feared Orcblood Rajput Bersekers, Stoneheart engineers and cyclopean Sages of the Copper Flame, to be of a race is both liberating and stifling, as your blood bears what you're expected, and to contest this flexible, but occasionally binding path is to risk your "Company" and counterraciton whether passive or violent.
AMong the most crucial Guilds are the Guild of Power, sustained by a protected and hidden caste of elemental astomoi, meditating on the nature of power and generating it through will and focus itself, the Rajput Enforcers of Peace, and the Dragon's Scions, representatives of the displaced, and ever moving Guildmasters, Admirals, and rare Cartels, a hereditary caste of Negotiators, accountants, and Duelists famed for their martial arts.

The foreign planes are oft ignored, sans the "Path of One Voice", a zen land of the dead, and the more infernal planes known of Demons, Devils and the warped personas that praise them, called "The Capho".