You don't see anything in particular, although the crowd is clearly anxious for a guilty verdict.
Adivion shifts out from under the paladin's grip—clearly uncomfortable with touching—but he offers the party a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Wyatt. Both and Adam and I owe your party a great debt. It isn't hubris to suggest you risked much for a stranger, indeed one as... Unorthodox as Adam."
"I don't know what Adam's plans are, although I doubt he would stay here. The mob won't let this go easily, I fear. You should stay ready to intervene, in any case."
The wait is not long, only an hour passes before the justices return, their demeanors grim. The Herald calls for order, the brass gong immediately bringing the crowd to a hush. Justice Daramid stands and begins to speak.
"We have heard the evidence presented before us, and thank Pharasma that we did so, for without this trial there would have been a most terrible miscarriage of justice. There are many cruelties in this world, but punish one for another's crimes is surely a terrible sin. If we act based only on bigotry and lies, then we are no better than the monsters that creep below the shadows of Ustalav. We find the Beast not guilty on all charges!"
The crowd immediately screams with anger at the verdict, the guards drawing their weapons to hold the most aggressive of their number back. The bailiff quickly opens the cage holding Adam, and then unlocks his manacles before nervously backing away. Adam sways for a moment, unsure what to do with the news. He steps from the cage and lurches towards the party, his face pulled into a gruesome smile.
"You did it," he exclaims. "My friends, the best friends in all the world!"
Adivion gestures to his assistant, who moves forward having produced a lantern. While the man stoops to light it, a hush falls over the already quiet court, with the entire gallery waiting to see the results with rapt attention.
When the lantern is lit, his assistant holds the lamp below the skin. Adivion, fearless to touch the disgusting "suit" in his dark gloves, grasps the skin and stretches it. Bright light glows through nearly two dozen lacerations—the tooth marks of some large beast.
The gallery erupts with excited murmuring. Otto Heiger visibly slumps in his chair.
"There will be no further questions, your Honors," Adivion adds, peeling off his gloves to reveal pale, graceful fingers. A second pair is handed to him by his assistant, and Adivion stalks back to his place nearby the Beast. For a moment, before he turns away, the party sees the ghost of a smile on his usually grave features.
---
When the time comes for closing arguments, Heiger is somber, nearly tranquilized compared to the bombast of his opening. He argues that the reputation of the Beast is well known, that the charges laid against him were serious in the extreme and came upon by the witnessing of good and honest Vielanders. He asks that the judges look at the Beast and see the monster there, the potential for violence, and if they want yet another monster to wander the dark paths of Ustalav.
When he finishes, Adivion rises and straightens his coat. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and begins. "Your Honors, I would like to take this moment to thank you for your time. Administering justice is not an easy task, and it is surely more difficult when having to deal with such a shambolic display as we have seen over these last three days."
"Is that too harsh for Mr. Heiger? Perhaps. In Ustalav, we are accustomed to the darkness that creeps in every shadow and we are quick to judgement, especially when we see a visage like Adam's."
"And who could blame us? When the darkness reaches out and takes something precious from us, it is usually in the form of a monster. It is a learned skill, a survival skill. Without it, I doubt very much that we could stand in this building and palaver over such civilized conceits as justice."
"But here we are, and when it comes to justice, real justice, we cannot be rushed. Our earliest impulses must not be those that we reach for when we decide to sentence someone to imprisonment or death, even if that someone does not appear as our neighbor would. Without justice, we are little better than the monsters we fear."
"I cannot say to you honestly that Adam has done no wrong in his strange life. I do not know his past and I do not know his heart, although I suspect I have come to understand it in part. What I do know is that you cannot convict him of these three murders."
"In each case, in each place, I have provided reasonable doubt that Adam was responsible or even present in the places he has been accused of. In at least two cases, I have provided evidence and expert witnesses to show that, in all likelihood, the murders at Morast and Sanctuary were committed by Vorkstag, a monster that could wear a disguise so canny that it appears as a second skin. And in Hergstag, we have presented evidence and testimony that the murders were likely committed by the apparition of Gilwyn Treyes, a known killer of children in life."
"None of these are certainties, because those are preciously few in a place such as Ustalav, but they do raise significant doubts. What has the prosecution provided? Half-glimpsed accounts from terrified villagers in a dark swamp? The statements of three isolated gossipmongers? What was last seen by a blind man? All of it backed up by urban legends and fed into our own biases, like coals into a flame. We are so quick to determine that Adam is guilty that before this trial was even concluded, a group of citizens attempted to abduct and murder the defendant. We must do better. Your honors, I hope that you will. Thank you." Adivion returns to his seat.
Quiet returns to the courtroom, broken only by the deep rasp of Adam's breathing. Chief Justice Khard clears his throat. "Thank you, Goodman Heiger, Goodman Adrissant. My fellow justices and I will now deliberate."
He rises, as do Justice Aldaar and Daramid. As she turns to leave, Daramid offers the party a brief nod before leaving with her peers. As they depart, the gallery begins to buzz with nervous excitement. Adivion leans over and murmurs, "I hope that will be enough for the judges, although I doubt I have convinced the people of Lepidstadt. Be ready."
Adivion listens to the testimonies delivered by the party, the disgust on his face growing with each revelation. Disquieted murmers from the gallery are silenced with a sharp glare from Justice Aldaar. With the revelation of the skin cabinet, Adivion gestures to his assistant, who begins to wheel a rack of covered garments towards the bench.
"I must ask those with weak constitutions to leave the gallery," Adivion begins. "For what these adventurers have found at the Chymical Works is extremely disturbing, yet vital to the case."
Otto Heiger makes no objection, too caught up in the moment—or perhaps too morbidly curious with the unfolding scene—to try and stop it.
"These are but a few of the 'skins' collected by the creature called Vorkstag," he explains, removing the covers one by one to reveal the hanging suits of fleshless skins. "We believe that Vorkstag has operated within Lepidstadt for years, perhaps decades, able to murder and assume the place of those that were slain, or take on new personas using the repurposed skins of travelers and vagabonds. Given enough time, we believe that an investigation into the skins discovered within the cabinet could shed new light on murders unsolved."
"There is one skin that he favored," Adivion continues, his hand resting on the final shawl. "A skin that could explain a recent rash of murders in this fine city and its surrounding communities." Adivion tears away the cover to reveal the final, most monstrous skin: that belonging to a hulking mongrelman, made up of flesh, fur, and scales and covered with hideous puss-filled boils.
The effect is immediate, a sharp intake of breath from every corner of the courtroom. A woman in the gallery shrieks and breaks the quiet. The gates opened, shouts erupt from the gallery, Otto Heiger shouts objections, and Chief Justice Khard pounds his gavel in a furious demand for order.
When it is reestablished—a process that takes several minutes—Adivion gestures to the beastly skin, looking at his witnesses. "Does this skin match the descriptions of those given by Elder Lazne, who witnessed the attacks in Morast, and also that given by Dr. Brada's assistant, Karl?"
After the party is seated, Adivion gives them a thin smile before turning to face the judges. "As we have already established before the court," he begins, "the four seated here have been hired by a third party to serve as evidence gatherers for the defense. They have proven to be fearless searchers for the truth, and have walked into danger more than once so that the court might have as close to a full accounting as possible."
The barrister turns back to the party, having them describe their interview with Karl. When that account is finished, he moves on to the next subject: the party's visit to the ruined Sanctuary, the fight against the ghouls that had taken residence there, the recovery of Dr. Brada's remains, and finally, the discovery of the glass vial from Vorkstag & Brine's Chymic Works.
"Not much to go on," Adivion muses. "What made you decide to pursue that lead?"
The last day of the trial begins without incident, the events of the previous evening resulting in a doubled presence of the Lepidstadt town guard. The crowd gathered around the Punishing Man—the massive, man-shaped construction of cut timber intended to serve as the Beast's final prison cell and means of execution—has lost some of the festive cheer it displayed over the last two days. Instead, the mood is tense, filled with anxiety for the coming decision. After a brief meeting with Adivion, dressed once again in a black suit more befitting a mortician than a barrister, the party is ushered into the seating area reserved for witnesses.
After the court has been called to order by the black-armored Herald, the judges shuffle to their raised seats.
Chief Justice Khard's glare seems more dour than usual, and when he speaks, his voice is backed by steel that belies his age. "Before we begin today, I am compelled to remind the gallery of the penalties this court carries for violence. This court house is not a battleground, where one side may do what they please simply because they prevail through force. If I learn that anyone threatens the members of either council or their witnesses, I will personally have them whipped out of town or hanged. Lepidstadt is not ruled by mobs, but by law." He eyes the assembled townspeople with barely concealed contempt. When there is no response, he gestures for Otto Heiger to begin.
"Your honors," the prosecutor begins, "I would draw your attention to the events of 6 Erastus, a mere four months ago, at the Karb Isle Sanctuary. The Palatinate alleges that the defendant, otherwise known as the Beast, set fire to the establishment in an act of malicious and premeditated arson which resulted in the deaths of twenty-five people, and the permanent disfigurement of another. I would call to the stand the only survivor of that attack, Karl Bemeur."
A bailiff leads the blind man to the stand, and when sworn in by the court, delivers a similar account to the one the party heard yesterday: that Karl—as Dr. Brada's assistant—had finished his nightly check-up on the patients when he heard his employer cry out. When he opened the door to the doctor's personal offices, he saw the room in flames before the Beast threw itself from the window. He tried to save the doctor's life, but was knocked unconscious after an explosion threw him from the room, an injury that left him permanently blinded. Heiger then carefully draws a description of the Beast from Karl, emphasizing its size and bestial nature.
Then it is Adivion's turn to question Karl. The barrister is gentle with the former assistant, although he presses for additional details and clarifications when Karl is vague. The only significant departure is when he asks whether Karl is familiar with Vorkstag & Grine.
"Objection," Heiger interjects. What relevance does an alchemical company have to do with the crimes at the Sanctuary?" Although his objection is fair, his voice carries a plaintive note, as though he expects what will come next.
"Your honors," Adivion explains, "I believe that Vorkstag & Grine play a significant role in these crimes, one that cannot be overlooked or left unexplored. As the last survivor of the fire on Karb Isle, Mr. Bemeur's commentary could prove exculpatory."
The justices consider for a moment before allowing the question to continue. Karl thinks for a moment before nodding. "The name is familiar, yes. Their chemicals were used at the Sanctuary for cleaning any, ah, messes that patients might have made.
Adivion holds up a hand to stop Karl from continuing. "No need to specify, sir, I believe that we understand the necessities that your job entailed. Did Mr. Vorkstag and Mr. Grine ever visit the Sanctuary to make deliveries?" Adivion asks.
"Yes," Karl replies.
"Could you describe their appearances to the best of your memory?"
Karl scratches his head, recollecting. "It's been months since I saw either of them, but I can try. Vorkstag was taller, pale, with dark hair. Grine was a gnome or a halfling, it was hard to tell either way since he wore a coat with a high collar and some manner of spectacles that hid his eyes."
Adivion thanks Karl, and then rests. He turns to the party, and gives them a nod. It was time to begin.
"Your honors, at this time, the defense calls to the stand: Mr. Aduard Bookman, Dr. Arruk Karrus, Mr. Edison Wyatt, and Ms. Esta Vyrelian."
Hey, gang. Sorry about the lack of a post lately. It should be decently long and I've had a difficult time getting into the headspace to write it. It should be up sometime later this week!
Night falls on Lepidstadt by the time the party can return to Lepidstadt's court house. The mood in the previously festive town square is subdued, and the party receives muttered curses and furtive glances as they ride past. The crowd of trial watchers seems to sense that the desired justice against the Beast is slipping away.
Inside, Adivion Adrissant, Adam's barrister takes in what the party tells him. He does not smile, but when he speaks, it is with barely restrained enthusiasm. "If what you say is true, we could pin the disappearances in Morast and the Sanctuary fire on this Vorkstag creature. A skinstealer, how fascinating."
He falls silent for several minutes as he considers the suddenly vast arrangement of evidence at his disposal. "We will need to have Vorkstag checked for scarring on his shoulder, for evidence of the caimin attack. Doctor Brada's assistant, the blind man, Karl was it? We will need to question him more thoroughly to see what will come up in cross. It's a shame we don't have the late doctor's head, there are certain magics that we could use to... He trails off. "Apologies, I tend to ramble when I grow excited."
"Here is what we know. He holds up a gloved hand, ticking off his fingers as he makes his points. "We know Adam was not responsible for the killings at Morast and Herstag. For the former, he does not bear any marks of the caimin attack on the monster the villagers witnessed. For the latter, we know that the killings were caused by the wraith called Brother Swarm. Finally, we have the discovery of bleach vials from Vorkstag & Grine Chymic Works discovered at the scene of the Sanctuary fire."
"Pursuing that lead brings you to Vorkstag, our skinstealer. You discover his macabre wardrobe and his repulsive nature. It contains a skin that matches the description of the Beast seen in both Morast and Sanctuary."
"I believe, and further investigation will bear this out, that you have captured the true murderer: Vorkstag. Using the monstrous guise of this Shambling Man, Vorkstag has evaded capture for at least a year, while pinning the blame on Adam. Who knows how long he has been at large, or if he is even the first Vorkstag. The skinstealer might have killed the original Vorkstag and walked in his skin for years."
"If I can put some doubt into the judges' heads, then Adam is a free man."
Adivion grins, turning to look out the window and into the town square. "Stop me if I'm gett—" He immediately becomes serious again. "We might have some trouble, take a look at this.
Outside the window, down in the town square, a mob is gathering. Ill-equipped with tools and torches, the group grows increasingly agitated as a man bellows at them. Impossible to hear through the lead-paned glass, the party can tell one thing: they are here for Adam.
Sonya grins wolfishly as the creature hits the ground, its wings and body perforated by numerous autocannon rounds. Her victory is short-lived however, as The Way She Goes rocks forward from an unseen blow.
New warnings pop into her HUD and Duncan tells her of a proximity alert — one of the other beasts had closed the distance and hit her from behind. With a curse, Sonya turns her mech to face the fresh threat, dropping her chaingun. At this range, it would be near useless anyways. A plume of steam bursts from below, the heat from her cannon's rotary barrels sublimating the snow into gas. Through the haze, she engages her sensors and draws her mech's sidearms: a pistol and knife both longer than she was tall.
Using Initiative to Lock On to the Green Vulture.
"New bogies, Cobalt!" she warns, before tackling into the vulture, using her mech's superior weight to try and push the beast away.
Quick Action to Ram the Green Vulture, consuming Lock On. Wrench Witch's Spotter lets me roll twice and pick the highest. If successful, I will push it back a space and knock it Prone
Free from the vulture throwing off her shot, Sonya turns back to its nest and the young crawling from it. Pushing her reactor past its safety parameter, she has Duncan run the telemetry data and fires a shell from the mortar mounted on her mech's right shoulder.
The room beyond reeks of formaldehyde and other preservatives. In the dim light, you can see rows of glass jars lined on shelves, each containing a grisly curiosity: the head of an elf with pale hair and obsidian black skin, a pair of hill giant eyes, the half-transformed head and spine of a wererat, a trio of chuul tentacles.
Two complete skeletons of owlbears loom in the corners, framing a coffin resting on a pair of sawhorses. A handcart sits in front of the coffin.
A narrow corridor on the other side of the coffin ends at an iron grille locked with a padlock. The tunnel continues into darkness beyond.
Coffin:
Opening the coffin reveals a dead man in traveller's clothing. His body seems fresh, but is cold to the touch.
Sorry about the wait, it's been a week. Here's Garuda, my pilot:
Garuda:
» Sonya Meysembourg // GARUDA «
Mercenary, LL0
[ SKILL TRIGGERS ]
LEAD OR INSPIRE (+2), SPOT (+2),
STAY COOL (+2), TAKE CONTROL (+2)
[ GEAR ]
Assault Hardsuit, Light Signature,
Light A/C, ***
[ TALENTS ]
HEAVY GUNNER 1, LEADER 1,
SPOTTER 1
[ MECH ]
« THE WAY SHE GOES »
GMS EVEREST
H:0 A:0 S:0 E:2 SIZE:1
STRUCTURE:4 HP:10 ARMOR:0
STRESS:4 HEAT:0 REPAIR:5
ATK BONUS:0 TECH ATK:0 LTD BONUS:1
SPD:4 EVA:8 EDEF:8 SENS:10 SAVE:10
[ WEAPONS ]
Main Mount: Mortar
Flex Mount: Pistol / Tactical Knife
Heavy Mount: Heavy Machine Gun
[ SYSTEMS ]
Comp/Con-Class Assistant Unit, Turret Drones,
Pattern-A Jericho Deployable Cover
She's built to be a field commander with fire support. In combat, she'll hang towards the back with any other sniper characters, providing Spotter assistance and deployable cover. She can throw Leadership dice and turret drones to give additional support, as well as lock down any shifty enemies with covering fire from her Heavy Machine Gun.
Narratively, she's an old solider, with all the experience and ghosts that brings. She's professional, jaded, and sad. She believe's she's seen just about everything, and is almost correct.
A woman in her late 50s, Garuda is trim and fit, with steel-grey hair almost always tied into a tight bun. She's handsome, but worn down. A large scar on her right cheek makes her look the part, but it's actually from a childhood accident.
Backstory:
A rough backstory is that Garuda's a career soldier, but a new pilot. Formerly a member of the Union Navy command structure, she served as the CO for a squad of auxiliaries, providing them with tactical and intelligence oversight. Eventually, she and one of her charges, an ace pilot named Duncan, fell in love and retired from the Navy to pursue lives as soldiers of fortune.
Recruiting a team of like-minded individuals, their small outfit met with some success, scoring lucrative jobs throughout the outer rim of Union space. Unfortunately, their brief stint as mercenaries ended in tragedy. Garuda's squad, led by Duncan, were ambushed by pirates during an operation and killed to a man; she could do little but listen.
In the aftermath, Garuda sold what she could. In her grief, she paid for the creation of a custom COMP/CON assistant using the collected data and recordings from Duncan's life. Her new, digital Duncan could never replace him — it was only a machine, but it helped.
Now Garuda has returned the Navy, although she has opted for a more action-oriented role, leading a team of auxiliaries in the field. Is it a death wish? Perhaps, but she doesn't think that way. She misses the camaraderie, and sometimes, when she's in the thick of the fight, she swears that she can feel Duncan there, right beside her.
As Aduard dangles from the side of the factory, he spies a man dressed in the plain clothes of a laborer walking along the road nearby. The laborer and Aduard lock eyes before the man looks away and quickly hurries down the road. He pointedly avoids looking toward Aduard a second time.
Edison hacks the gnome again, throwing Grine to the floor, bleeding and unconscious. The swirling darkness in the center of the factory floor fades away.
Above, the odor of bloody meat fills Karras's nose and fades away as Vorkstag retreats.
Grine is unconscious, as Edison and the bats drop him to -2 hp. I've moved the red square to Vorkstag's last known position, according to Karras's scent ability. The party can now act!
Okay, the loot list linked under the Campaign Info tab has been updated to the best of my knowledge. You guys actually have a fair amount of healing potions and wands. I've also taken loot back from Dashil and Radag, since that was stuff that you all earned.
Let me know if I've missed something or if you have something to add.
"Certainly Grine," a sinister voice replies from the darkness, followed by a thud as the blade of an axe hacks into Karras's leg. Spurred on by his mutagenically-enhanced form, the alchemist clambers up the ladder, blood dripping from the wound. As he climbs, Karras feels the effort becoming more difficult, his arms and legs weak. Reaching the top, he's easily able to engage Vorkstag.
Grine gets and AoO, since he was right next to Karras in the darkness. Karras takes 11 damage and 2 points of Strength damage from the poison on the blade.
On the basement level, mongrelmen retreat from the darkness at the base of the ladder. On the ground level, the mongrelmen seem to make up their minds. "We will help you fight the bosses!" they cry, taking their clubs and scrambling down the ladders.
As if in response, a thrown axe hurtles out of the darkness, taking one of the mongrelmen in the shoulder and casting them howling into a vat. The pitiful creature splashes in the liquid for a moment, screaming as its flesh bubbles, before finally ceasing. The acrid stink of acid-melted flesh fills the room.
Atop the catwalk, Vorkstag steps back from Karras and drinks a potion. The man grins at Karras, nodding to his wound. "That looks bad, old boy. Perhaps you should see a doctor." As he speaks, the back of his throat glows with orange light, as though he had literally swallowed a fire.
I've replaced the Slides link in the Campaign Header with a gallery of NPCs, places, and monsters. As we progress with the game, I'll keep adding to it!
Captain Thernand gestures for you to follow him. He leads you out of the lone door, and into a hexagonal room. Another door flanks the one you just left, two more mirror them on the opposite walls—all are clearly marked as cargo. A lift-shaft runs through the center of the room, dropping from the ceiling and vanishing into the floor. The captain presses a button to call the lift and turns back to you.
"We're in the Atlas Line, left Toubkal Station about three weeks ago. We're headed to the planet Hercynia, a backwater colony project." He shrugs. "We're seven days out from orbit, so I decided to pull you out and let you get your feet under you."
A chime rings as the lift arrives and Captain Thernand ushers you aboard. "The lift," he explains, "runs the length of the Queen. Below us are another two cargo decks, our water supply, engineering, and the reactor. Above, we have the medical bay, the lounge, the galley, crew quarters, operations, and flight deck. While aboard for this week, you're welcome to any of the public spaces. Anything else and you'll need my permission."
The lift ascends, stopping briefly for the crew to get on and off. The galley is a simple affair, four tables arranged around the hexagonal core of the ship. Built into walls are storage units for cutlery, dishware, and food, and a pair of small kitchens. Two of the tables are occupied by crewmembers, which eye you with momentary curiosity before returning to the quiet noise of conversation. The captain seats you at one of the tables—the chairs magnetically fixed to the floor—before yelling after one of the crew nearest to the kitchen. "Lavigne, be a good host and grab four coffees for our guests here, and a tea." He turns back to Alphons. "I hope green is okay. I think it's all we have."
Once beverages have been provided, he produces a slate and flicks through it. A chime sounds on each of yours. "I forwarded each of you the MSMC file. I don't know what's on it, but I hope it answers your questions. I've asked my crew to give you some privacy while you review. I'm going to head up to the flight deck and check on some things. If you need me, just use the comms panel over there." He points to a screen on a nearby wall. "There's one just like it on every deck. You can also use it to speak to Manifest, the ship's NHP. Reach out to him if you have any other questions."
With that, he leaves you to inspect the file. Your proprietary software decypts it quickly, a certain key made for a certain lock. A video plays, either on your slate or, for those with augmented eyes, directly in your field of vision. Two people sit at a table, the logo of Mirrorsmoke Mercenary Company emblazoned on the wall behind them. The first is a large, dark-skinned man dressed in the gray uniform of MSMC command. Despite his rank, his bearing is loose and informal, his hair slightly too long and non-standard beard showing signs of gray hairs. You've seen him before—Major Harun 'Ziz' Suri, the commanding officer of the MSMC 501st Detachment, also known as the "Here-for-Nows". Your detachment, your CO. The woman is less familiar. She wears stylish, professional civilian clothes and the kohl around her eyes compliments her fair skin.
Major Suri speaks first. "I hope this message finds you all in good health, Delta Squad. You know who I am," He gestures to the woman seated next to him, prompting a smirk and curt nod from her. "And this is Nijole McCaffity, legal liason to the 501st and your new executive officer. My apologies for the new situation you find yourself in, but we know that, as soldiers, our mission can change. I know it might be disappointing that you will not be joining the rest of Whiskey Company and the 501st in our new campaign, but we have need of you elsewhere." He gestures again, this time changing the screen to show a planet shrouded in cloud cover.
"This is Ardennes-3, Union designation 'Hercynia', home to the colony Evergreen." A new voice—feminine with a slightly musical accent, McCaffity's. "Hercynia's charter is owned by Landmark Colonial, a subsidiary of Smith-Shimano Corpro. Evergreen is roughly fifty years old at this point, still under the leadership of an administrative NHP, named Patience. About a month ago, we received a contract from Landmark in response to a distress signal issued from Evergreen. The planet is fairly isolated, and it required we act with some flexibility. Hence your unusual situation."
"The distress signal indicates that the colony has come under attack from unknown assailants," Major Suri continues. "Your mission is to make contact with the colony and defend it from any further attacks. We're giving you some autonomy here, but any strategic decisions you make should be discussed with Evergreen's administrative and security personnel. Miss McCaffity will serve as your executive officer for this posting, her contact information is included in this dossier."
"Do not hesitate to reach out," McCaffity offers. "I know that we in Legal have a scary reputation, but I am your ally here."
When she's finished, Major Suri finishes his briefing. "Your posting will last a total of one year, upon which time you will be picked up again by the The Zintu Queen making its return journey. Any further questions can be directed towards McCaffity or the COMP/CON dossier included with this file. Good luck on Hercynia, Delta Squad. Make the 'Here-for-Now's' proud."
The video cuts out, displaying a menu of informational options relevant to the mission.
Mission Parameters:
Primary Objective: Defend Evergreen from attacks.
Secondary Objective: Integrate with local hierarchy and security apparatus.
Tertiary Objective: Ensure accurate data collection.
Quaternary Objective: Maintain MSMC rules of engagement.
Hercynia Intel:
Hercynia is the third planet orbiting the star Ardennes. A backwater colony world, its charter is currently owned by Landmark Colonial. It has a number of small moons, none of which are populated. Satellite imagery is sparse, due to the nearly omnipresent cloud cover.
Union records indicate that Hercynia was once subject to a widespread and catastrophic SecComm expeditionary campaign. The records lack details but information collected from the old Union Colonial Mission suggests that the Second Committee mounted a handful of similar campaigns against entrenched and hostile populations. Its history as a SecComm warzone likely accounts for the massive amount of radiation and signal "noise" coming off the world, especially at its desolate polar caps. Personnel should expect to encounter abandoned Union military infrastructure and technology. Leftover radiation and unexploded ordinance are possible hazards.
Evergreen Intel:
Evergreen is a colony-settlement chartered by Landmark Colonial. Founded nearly fifty years ago, the colony is now enjoying its second generation of growth, nearly 50,000 colonists. The colony is currently administered by a Sidewalk-J2 Municipal NHP named Patience.
Evergreen was planned as a council community—a worker's city, collectively owned and organized around responsible harvesting and exporting of Hercynia's natural resources. It has no common currency, as all resources are appointed by Patience.
As a nearly finished colonial project, Evergreen has access to the omninet and a printing facility.
OPFOR Intel:
Limited. The distress signal from the colony contained fairly little accurate information on the attacks. Intelligence analysis suggests attackers could be pirates using Hercynia's signal noise and cloud cover as protection from orbital discovery. Infantry, vehicle, and light mechanized chassis are anticipated.
Annoyance flashes across Vorkstag's face as Karras moves past him, and he turns towards Esta. "I had hoped to avoid this unpleasantry, but since your colleague seems determined to stick his nose into my business, I suppose I can satisfy your curiosity." The nobleman raises two fingers to his lips and releases a shrill whistle.
Heavy chain clinking, something inside the kennel shifts. "Our factory must have security, you understand," Vorkstag explains. "But guard dogs are so noisy, and require a simply interminable amount of food. Fido is perfect."
Fido crawls out of the kennel. It has the shape of a large hound, but everything about it is wrong—a hideous amalgamation of flesh, stitched together with thick wire and metal staples. Half its head is bone, the other is a mass of scar tissue, one white eye rolling. A pink tongue flops out of its maw, not dissimilar from a dog. Around its thick neck is a collar connected to the chain.
Knowledge (arcana) DC 16:
Fido appears to be a variant of a flesh golem. Although it is in the shape of a hound, it likely bears a similar resistance to non-adamantine weapons, an immunity to magic, and a chance for berserk rage.
"Fido, attack!" Vorkstag cries, before retreating through the door, into his factory. Fido creeps towards Esta, slowly at first, steadily picking up speed.
New combat! Karras can now act. I want to go back to Roll20 for combat maps, so a new link can be found here.
The deck of the light carrier is warm and humid, a welcome change after the dry cold of stasis. Dim, recessed lighting glows a gentle amber to let your eyes adapt to seeing once more. The stasis headache is a miserable bastard—you’ll have to reassess your hydration cocktail, shout at the autodoc for that one—but tea and a seat will help
For now, you are the only one awake on this deck. The artificial dawn is yours to enjoy. You pad barefoot from your roomette to an observation blister, find a couch, and sit. The dome above you populates, void blooming across an opaque hexagonal feld like ink dropped on a blank page.
Space. You sit alone on a soft, semi-gimballed couch, the vacuum of space projected around you. Your gut twists and the old fear sends a bolt of adrenaline to the back of your throat, but it passes; you know you’re still inside the observation blister. A jade and white disk hangs on the velvet feld above you. Hercynia. Big as a dinner table.
What do you know about the place? Not much, and the packet was slim: early testing ground for the mechanized chassis, hostile local fauna, isolated for centuries before being forgotten, rediscovered and snapped up by a high-risk firm with a few other colonies under its belt. Apparently there was a local indigenous population that the hi-ri colonists didn't know about, which led to some legal tangle between SSC and Union. A mess, in other words. An emerald mess.
You order the ship to play the sound of rain. You lay back upon the couch, tea on your chest – it’s still a little too hot – and float, surrounded by stars. You’ll be there in a few days. Around you, the others are waking up. Systems organic and synthetic cycling to life. Some of you might not return to this little ship. Maybe you’ll die down on that world.
But right now you have the sound of rain. The hush of broad fronds rasping against their neighbors. The background hiss of air. The comfortable gravity. Peace.
Your slate pings in your pocket. The amber light floods the periphery of the blister. Your aurals hum a notification tone.
Ah well. Time to go to work.
Welcome to my recruitment for No Room for a Wallflower, the first official campaign for the Lancer RPG by Miguel Lopez and Tom Parkinson Morgan. For those unfamiliar, it is a game about mechs and those that pilot them, set in a distant future where humanity lies upon the precipice of a golden age. It combines tactical combat with deep customization options when piloting the mechs and rules-light narrative play when outside of the cockpit.
If you're interested, but don't have the rules, there's good news! The player rules are completely free and found HERE. Unfortunately, the setting details are locked behind the paid version, but I've "condensed" them into a document that can be found HERE. Fair warning, it is nearly 30 pages (not including ToC and key terms), but the original is almost 100, so I think I did an alright job.
Lancer also features an excellent character builder, which is completely free and found HERE.
No Room for a Wallflower assumes that the PCs are members of a team of mech pilots bound for Hercynia, an isolated colony world in the fourth ring of Union space. They have been assigned a task by a local Union administrator: they are to respond to a distress call from the world, after which they will be relieved and commended once a nearby Union patrol-group arrives in-system.
The reason the PCs are chosen for this task is that they happen to be the closest asset to Hercynia at this time, but what the PCs actually represent is up to the players. The book offers three possible hooks. They are as follows:
Union Auxiliaries: First Response Team:
The player characters are Union auxiliaries deployed as a first response team, part of a light company sent out on long patrols. Often seen as boring, low-action assignments, these patrols see small units of experienced auxiliary pilots embarking on tours through frontier territories in order to be present in cases of need. These units are meant to be flexible, with a wide portfolio of diplomatic and tactical freedoms afforded to them. Auxiliaries are members of the Union Navy; as such, they exist within and are subject to a military chain of command. Their commanding officers report to Union officials, and any fallout arising from their conduct is subject to full review by Union.
As part of a Union auxiliary peacekeeping force, the PCs are beholden to strict rules of engagement. Union forces may not fire first and must prioritize the protection of people above corporate interests. Further, the PCs have received implied and explicit orders to prioritize de-escalation, preserve life to the best of their abilities, and seek peaceful resolutions to conflicts. If the PCs break these rules of engagement, they will face disciplinary action when the greater Union force eventually arrives in the system. While on Hercynia, they are considered Union’s representatives with the expectation that they comport themselves accordingly. The rewards received by Union auxiliary groups are likely to be less material than those received by mercenary or corporate groups. These characters probably have moral or ethical imperatives to assist those they encounter.
Landmark Colonial fields a number of small, standing CRTs tasked with running rapid, surgical, and asset-oriented ID and retrieval missions on Landmark-administered colony worlds. These are distinct from the company’s much larger and much rarer crisis response missions, which are raised only in response to acute threats, composed of thousands of soldiers and mechs, and intended for long-term occupation and world-building.
CRT operatives are multi-role fighters from a myriad of professional backgrounds, typically retired or discharged professional soldiers, private security, or ex-mercenaries. Their teams are outfitted by Landmark’s armory, which has fleet contracts with SSC, IPS-Northstar (IPS-N), and General Massive Systems (GMS). The higher-ups usually frown upon the use of HORUS or Harrison Armory (HA) gear on Landmark missions, although CRTs are largely autonomous and rarely interact directly with executives.
As Landmark personnel, CRT members are subject to Landmark’s internal discipline first, local law second, and Union justice third. Landmark fiercely defends its CRT personnel and covers for them unless doing so is likely to severely harm the company. CRT mission debriefings are rarely shown to anyone outside Landmark management. The command structure of CRT teams typically involves two people: an offsite commanding officer patched in through the CRT’s comp/con unit and a legal consultant who acts as that commander’s executive officer.
As members of a Landmark CRT, the PCs have a number of corporate-approved objectives: secure the colony’s NHP casket and any backups, secure essential personnel and equipment, and ensure accurate data collection. All other costs and casualties can be recouped. Unless they somehow implicate management in egregious violations of local and Union law or disobey their orders, Landmark will likely consider the actions of a CRT to be justified.
Mercenaries: Mirrorsmoke Mercenary Company:
The Mirrorsmoke Mercenary Company (MSMC) is one of the largest active mercenary corporations in the galaxy, offering a wide portfolio of services available at the lowest sustainable bid. Some companies go lower, but after a certain point you’re buying corpses. MSMC might be a cheap option, and it might come with a few deadbeats, but it’s gonna get the job done and done final.
As MSMC contractors, the PCs come from a wide range of backgrounds and levels of training. MSMC detachments are made up of everyone from disgraced operators through to purchased inmates looking for redemption, refugees looking for citizenship to individuals down on their luck and in need of a new start. Whatever their origins, all MSMC personnel have their old identities wiped from the record and replaced with callsigns, after which they are placed under the command of MSMC officers—career mercenaries who have signed on for additional tours with the company.
Each MSMC detachment is overseen by a commanding officer, advised by a legal officer, and
outfitted with a transport carrier and supplies enough to last a moderate deployment. Individual contractors might have their own suites of licenses or they might need to lean on MSMC’s contracts with GMS and IPS-N to get by.
The rules of engagement governing MSMC detachments are complex, spanning public relations, legal liabilities, and operational considerations. PR guidelines are clear: don’t harm or assault civilians, don’t destroy property, do get a favorable review from the client—in this case, Landmark Colonial. The operational rules are less concrete. In some cases, they might align with best PR practices, although there are often off-the-book understandings between clients and commanding officers: Sometimes civvies get hurt, and sometimes the property a detachment was supposed to protect winds up damaged or destroyed. But hey, the primary objectives were all completed, right? And not too many got smoked? Mark it a success. All’s well that ends well.
If you're interested in playing, please put the three in the order you'd like to play. At 5 pm on Friday, if it's clear which option has the most support, character submissions can begin. More details on that will be posted on Friday. Thanks for any consideration!
They take their marching orders from a giant moon computer that already spat out one handful of gods from one of its simulations and they still think keeping the damn thing on is a good idea.
With the earlier than expected release of No Room for a Wallflower and interest from more than enough players than I can take in a single group, I will be transitioning this into a more traditional recruitment. The game is still open for players to submit their characters, but we'll have a new place to do so with some accompanying information.
I will be posting a link to the recruitment thread soon, once I've finished the setting guide.
Yeah, only pages 9 and 10 have anything to do with setting, and they are only a brief overview, with most of it just talking about what the word "Lancer" entails.
If you have sections of lore that you could copy and paste, that might be helpful.
Also, since this is a new system, all but unknown to the PbP community (except for Echos, but he's amazing) it might be good to run a test-flight of sorts. Even if you don't have all your materials, to let some people make characters, make a party, and have a bit of a walkabout with the rules might make a good base from which to launch a successful adventure.
IMHO. YMMV.
I think that's a great idea. Without worrying about backstories or the setting, why don't we have everybody build a LL0 character. I can take groups of three and run them through an introductory battle while we wait for the official release of the campaign. It will give me an opportunity to run Lancer, something I haven't done before either.
I've also been working on a "setting guide." Nothing crazy, but it should be more robust than what's offered in the Free Rules.
When I read the setting section of the free player's book, it felt like they held a certain amount back. I don't recall reading a mention of the Karrakin Trade Baronies, for instance, and the corpro-states just kind of get a light glossing over.
I imagine that there's a lot more setting detail in the main book, which may serve to change the perception of the Union.
That's good to know. I was under the assumption that the player's book had all the setting information.
I know the campaign is set up to show that the Communist Union is Perfect. Perfection is a road, not a destination. Nothing perfect can exist in reality. Knowing this, and knowing history and human nature, It must be a façade.
I guess, I'm hoping that you allow cracks in the façade for my character to exploit and hurt the Union.
EDIT:
Blackmailing Union officials, might be a good place to start.
I disagree. Union is not written to be perfect, but it is written to be an alternative to the typical 'dystopian, authoritarian-style' government so common in the genre. They're trying to do good and be good, compared to Union's recent history, ie. the imperial Second Committee.
I'm not fundamentally opposed to a character being anti-Union in a Lancer game. There are plenty of factions that would love to see Union stumble in one way or another: the Karrakin Trade Baronies, the corpro-states, any of the separatists that exist within the Diaspora. Hell, even Union doesn't completely agree on how it should work and run. It's governing body is split between four major parties, with the more extreme left and right wings growing in popularity.
Ultimately, it would depend on what you come up with and whether or not it's possible or appropriate with the campaign I intend to run. Skepticism of Union can be appropriate, especially if we go with certain intro prompts. But outright hostility might be more difficult to justify, considering that the characters will likely be undertaking this mission with Union backing and support, either as a member of a Union Auxiliary Peacekeeper or as a contracter of a corporation in good standing with Union.
It's a reference to Orwell's 1984. The term he used was doublethink, but wrong think is commonly used to refer to the idea. You think what the party thinks. Through propaganda, torture, imprisonment, (the tools of an authoritarian government [See China]) you are incentivized to never criticize, evaluate or analyze anything counter to the party's narrative. Doing so would be Wrong Think
I've read it, yeah. I meant, what do you believe 'Wrong Think' is, in the context of the Lancer setting?
Consider me intrigued. I'm going to read the player's guide over the weekend though before I dedicate myself to it. If someone is all in before I check back in, go ahead and take them <3
If we get enough people interested, we could run an actual recruitment.
CucumberTree wrote:
After reading a few pages in...I almost bowed out.
But a chance to destroy the communist's utopia in favor of freedom?
I've already picked out my character's motto: "Bring the war to The Core!"
While I think calling the Union 'communist' is reductive, you should check out the lore on Harrison Armory if you're looking for a 'capitalist' alternative.
Lancer was written by two authors that certainly wear their politics on their sleeves. If you don't like the lore, and the themes behind it, this probably won't be the game for you. The campaign, which is written by the same people, will explore sensitive topics, like racism, PTSD, and genocide.
I'm checking to see if there's any interest in a Lancer RPG campaign here on the Paizo boards. If you don't know what it is, Lancer is a self-described "mud and lasers" RPG about science-fantasy mechs and the people that pilot them. The game swings between rules-lite narrative sequences when out of the mech and crunchy tactical combat with deep customization when inside.
If you're interested, but don't have the rules, there's good news! The player rules are completely free and found HERE.
Lancer also has an excellent, free character builder called COMP/CON
If you're interested, but have questions, just ask me here. There is also a helpful Youtube channel that explains a lot of the lore and mechs found HERE.
Do you guys have a place to store a severed head? Also, I'm moving us to where I expected you to go next.
The return journey to Lepidstadt doesn't take long, neither does locating Vorkstag & Grine's Chymic Works. The factory lies on the outskirts of the city, a small brick building topped by a tall iron chimney that belches yellow smoke. Large, leaded windows arch in a dozen places along its walls, but are so begrimed as to appear opaque.
A twenty-foot-high stone wall surrounds a small courtyard on the southeastern corner of the building A heavy oak gate bars entry beneath a sign proudly proclaiming “Vorkstag and Grine, Chymic Works.” A bell hangs by one side of the gate.
Beyond the gate, an iron cart sits unattended. You can just make out a dog's kennel in the southeastern corner of the courtyard, it's opening and occupant hidden from view.
It's roughly noon, Golarion time. I will have new mood music up shortly.
A truly conniving character might use this opportunity to antagonize them and force a proper casus-belli so the kobolds could be removed. Oh, right, I'm playing a paladin!
Is this something we want? 'Cause I'm your huckleberry.
Sasha observes the negotiations between mouthfuls of centipede. It might look disgusting, but it was hardly the worst thing Sasha had eaten. Besides, when in doubt, do as the natives do. Lessons like that helped Sasha move through life, with the results being mostly harmless. In the meantime, she wracked her memory for mentions of Ilthuliak.
Adivion nods grimly. "The sooner you return, the better I will be able to prepare for tomorrow. Go now and leave no stone unturned. Adam's fate depends on it."
The barrister turns to Aduard. "I received your note, Mister Bookman. Rest assured that I have the means to see after my own safety. Your concern is appreciated, however unnecessary."
Outside, Aduard is approached by two of his servants. "Master Bookman," Willem intones, offering a short bow and a folded note.
Note 1:
Aduard,
I've done a little digging on the island in my spare time. It's not far from town and used to be home to the Sanctuary, some sort of retreat for the insane and infirm. The founder, Dr. Brada, seemed to have a noble reputation, but knowing this damned country like we do, the truth was likely much darker.
There's little information on it outside of rumors, but four months ago it burned down. Only one survivor, the doctor's assistant although he's blinded now. The bodies of the doctor and the patients were never recovered. That's all I could turn up in the time that I had, hope it helps.
- Dashil
The valet clears his throat. "I inquired after the books you requested, Master Bookman. What could be bought, I've placed in your rooms. What could not is available at the university's library. I'm afraid some are not allowed to leave the premises."
With Willem done, Drey tips his hat. "The ladies h'accepted your invitation, m'lord." The aged driver swallows nervously. "Beggin' your pardon, m'lord, but you 'ent plannin' on actually visitin' with'm, are you? They seem most keen to make your acquaintance again, most keen."
Garrow answers slowly, the story teased forth by Adivion. Gilwyn Treyes was a local of Hergstag. Several years ago, when plague swept through the Palatinate, the village was forced to ration its limited supply of healing magics. Lots were drawn and the Treyes family drew last. When the time came for a visit from the healer, Gilwyn's wife and children were dead. Overwhelmed by tragedy, Gilwyn retreated from village life, only emerging months later to reveal he had become a beekeeper. Unfortunately for Hergstag, this new hobby was little more than a cover for something far more sinister.
After the death of his family, something in Gilwyn snapped and he had begun to resent those who were spared the ravages of the plague. He grew particularly obsessed with the children, viewing them as a symbol for everything he'd lost. At first, he would gain their trust through gifts of honey and humorous stories. Then when he had them alone, he would subject them to abuse and torture, threatening them to keep silent or else worse would occur. This continued for months until one child returned home with bruises she could not hide.
With the full extent of his depravity unveiled, Hergstag did not wait for Vieland's sheriff for justice. The townsfolk rose up, dragged Gilwyn screaming from his home, and tied him to a stake. They covered him in the honey he had released the bees to do their work. As he died, he cursed the town and all in it that he would take from the town that which was taken from him. Afterwards, the townsfolk burned what was left of his apiary and left his corpse unburied, still attached to the stake.
Adivion clasps his hands behind his back as Garrow finishes her story. "Could you describe Gilwyn Treyes? His physical appearance, I mean. As you might have known him before his demise."
"Aye," Garrow answers, but before she can continue, Adivion holds up a hand for silence and then points towards the party. "Do you recognize them?"
"Oh, yes. That's Mr. Aduard Bookman and his hired help. They visited our home last night, to work on a new novel."
"Had Mr. Bookman ever visited Hergstag prior to last night?"
"No, although I must admit it was a great honor." Garrow replies.
"Such an honor," Starle agrees.
"Do you have any reason to believe that Mr. Bookman met Gilwyn Treyes before his death?"
"Not to my knowledge," Garrow answers.
"They day my client was discovered in town, carrying the body of Ellsa," The barrister raises his voice, putting emphasis on the name. The Beast flinches visibly in its cage, lowering its head. "You're certain she was dead?"
"Quite certain, Mr. Adrissant," Garrow explains. "That thing walked into the village, bold as y'like, carrying the girl's body. We checked after we ran it off."
"Say her name," Adivion asks. "There are so many victims in this case, it might be helpful for the Justices to be reminded of whom we are referring to."
"Ellsa," Garrow says. The Beast groans and leans forward, drawing nervous glances from his guards and mutters from the public gallery.
"Had my client returned any of the children's bodies?" Adivion asks.
"No."
"Was my client seen with any of the other children at all, at any time?"
"No."
"So the only time anybody in Hergstag had seen my client with any of the children, was when he returned Ellsa's body? Why would he only return one of the children?"
Garrow looks puzzled. "I don't kno-"
"Haaaah," the Beast croaks. "Haaaaah."
High Justice Khard looks alarmed and points his gavel towards Adivion. "What is your 'client' doing, barrister?"
Adivion does not respond except to look to the sisters.
"It's laughin'!" cries Starle. "Just like that day in town!"
"My client is not laughing," Adivion replies. "He is weeping. Your Honors, if you will permit me to call my first witness, I will explain all. The Beast is not the murderer of Hergstag's children. That title belongs to an abomination that calls itself Brother Swarm, but is actually the spirit of Gilwyn Treyes, returned from the grave to continue his evil acts upon the children of Hergstag."
Justice Aldaar scoffs, but the other two remain quiet. After a moment, Justice Daramid speaks. "Council, I do not believe that I am speaking out of turn when I suggest that your accusations strain credulity, but we will permit you to call witnesses."
Adivion nods. "Thank you, your Honors. I would like to call Esta Vyrelian to the stand."
Okay, full disclosure time. I know that this game has been dragging lately. I never meant for it to happen, but it did. To be honest, I'm realizing that play-by-posts were always something for me to do at work and in the last six months, I've been working differently than before.
Less time at the computer, more time up and being active on the job means that I've been lax in my responsibilities to my games. When I get home, my mind switches gears from "work stuff" which includes PbP in my downtime to "home stuff" like watching TV, playing video games, or doing prep work for my various irl tabletop games. Now that I'm home all the quarantime, I'm working to change my associations to make PbP more of a priority.
I'm going to get a post up tonight and I hope to keep that pace up for the long term. Thanks for sticking with me. :)
Okay, full disclosure time. I know that this game has been dragging lately. I never meant for it to happen, but it did. To be honest, I'm realizing that play-by-posts were always something for me to do at work and in the last six months, I've been working differently than before.
Less time at the computer, more time up and being active on the job means that I've been lax in my responsibilities to my games. When I get home, my mind switches gears from "work stuff" which includes PbP in my downtime to "home stuff" like watching TV, playing video games, or doing prep work for my various irl tabletop games. Now that I'm home all the quarantime, I'm working to change my associations to make PbP more of a priority.
On top of that, my motivation was impacted by writing myself into a corner with completely overhauling the Hergstag encounters (imagine if every single kid were an incorporeal wraithspawn shudder) and the loss of ToxicDragon. It was important for me to move past those two things quickly in the interest of getting the game back in motion, so I hope you can excuse the suddenness of the scene change.
I'd also like to officially welcome Anonymous Visitor 946 to the game. I know he's taken the time to skim the gameplay thread in its entirety, but would anybody find a recap helpful? I could cover the major plot points and NPCs so far.
Either way, thanks for sticking with me and let's get this show back on the road!
Torches in hand, the party plunges into the cornfields. The childlike singing follows close behind, although its source is careful to remain hidden. It is difficult to shake the sense that they are being led—perhaps herded—by it to the southwest, where a low hill rises above the town.
Overgrown rows of immense flowers ring the hilltop, while beyond them lie the charred remains of a building flanked by six wooden boxes. The charred skeleton of a man hangs from poles among these strange containers, its mouth hung wide in a silent scream.
Of Brother Swarm or his children, there is no sign.
I have to give up a few of my games and my Wrath of the Righteous group wants to continue playing, so I'm reaching out for a potential hero.
Originally two separate campaigns combined into one that I inherited, the group currently has 8 players and are towards the end of the first book. The group is great and committed though!
