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ROLEPLAY BUCKET LIST
- Walmart Apocalypse Roleplay
- Nightmare Gas Station
- Underrail/Fallout/Post Apocalyptic Roleplay. Codename: Clausterclysm
- Anthromorphic Grimdark Animal Fantasy Roleplay. Codename: Fallowbrook.
- Eldritch Abomination Garfield Roleplay. Codename: Lasagna.
- Infinite IKEA Roleplay. Codename: God Morgon
- Roleplayerguild High School RP. Codename: Highschool Roleplay
- Cyberpunk South East Asia RP. Codename: Straits of Malacca. [CURRENTLY HAPPENING]


CURRENT PROJECTS

- FRAYED TAPESTRY - AN EPIC FANTASY RP (WIP)
- THE LAST DEPRESSION - A RED MARKETS QUEST/PLAY BY POST RP (UNDECIDED)

Most Recent Posts

@spiral origin

I grab Mortus by the shoulder and speak in a high-pitched voice sharpened by years of getting stoned on the royal courts.

" That wasn't very polite."

I then attempt to grab him by the shoulders and do a bone-breaking reverse suplex on him.
THE PEBBLE

Background: Wrestler Jester
Skills: Being a wrestler and balloon tricks.
Crimes: Wanted for piledriving a prince.
Personality: Speaking in the third person.
[X] - Deny it from the priest. Whatever is inside the package, you can't guarantee that the Cult of the Smiling One won't turn it upon the Stationary Shogunate. They are still the same ones who led a crusade that razed dozens of departments during the Black Friday. [2]




“ Forget?” You echo the priest’s words back to him as your eyes look around for any possible escape or opening to take advantage of. “ You ask me to forget, you rusted swine? You of no ink, no honour, no warranty? The man who slew my ilk and claimed it was as Sam dictates it?”

“ Spare me your sanctimony, samurai.” The priest raised his arms high and spoke aloud. “ Violence is the payment that the Wal demands. If Sam thought us so wrong, why do the likes of the Stockers or security exist?” There was a brief chuckle at the end of his question before his voice took on a softer lilt. “ But, enough of this. You are stalling for time. So, give me the artifact before we take it from you by force.”

In the middle of the priest’s ultimatum, you spot a white beacon in the sea of blue and yellow shirts. Your sword, Ivory Crane. You stuff down the boiling rage that threatens to make you growl as you put two and two together to realise that your blade is being bermirsched by the hands of those zealots. The situation was becoming more and more dire by the second and all your options were off the table. Unless, you negotiated but what could you…..

The sword appeared once again in your view. You take notice of the upper shelf and the fact that there are no guard railings on either side of the edge. Slowly, a plan began to form in your mind.

“ The sword.” You blurt out loud. “ It’s a heirloom. Give me the sword and I will give you your package.”

“ No! Don’t - “ Haagen’s pleas were cut off as a vegetable peeler was lowered near his throat.

“ Very well. ” The priest said. “ Sham, give this samurai their sword back as a gesture of our good will.”

The crowd rumbles as they let one of their own move through. A brown haired man with a bandolier of bubble wrap walks through, holding your sword clumsily by the pommel. To be frank, you’re more concerned about the condition of the sword rather than how Haagen looks at you as if he could kill you with his gaze. The cultist cautiously lifts it out towards you whilst lowering his other hand out towards the package. You grab the wrist, making everyone in the crowd stand at tension.

“ The sword first,” you said.

Grumbling, the man holds Ivory Crane out to you, blade first, waving towards you whilst still holding onto the package. He has a tight grip on it. Solid. A puritanical insistence on never letting go, no matter the cost. That’s just what you need.

You grab Ivory Crane by the blade and push it back into the man’s face, the blunt of the sword turning his nose into a red splotch as he recoils back, dazed. His foot stumbles and with a twist, you launch both of you and him off the Shelf, the cultist still gripping onto the package for dear life whilst your sword is in your hands.

Your fingers catch onto the rim of the box-like package and you hug it against your body, its contact with your skin giving you a certain thrill as the wind whips in your hair and -

The sound of bone cracking cuts your victory short, darkness blooming in your vision to take you away from the split-second agony.




You come to, a voice in the darkness fading in and out every second.

“Hello?......Hello there?.......Pupils responsive…...Hello, can you hear me?”

You make a half-hearted sound that you think is a yes. The man chuckles.

“ You were out for quite a while.” Your vision returns in a blurry fashion. You can make out white hair and a set of reading glasses on his face.. “ Hard to believe you can speak right now in your state.”

“ S-smiler - “ you croaked out to the blurred figure.

“ Aye, don’t worry, lad. Bargain Hunters repelled them off the border. Rumor is that they pulled in favors from a nearby Dorfen Fort. Don’t know the specifics but it was enough to get them off our backs.”

You notice something wrong.

[X] - Why is half of your vision so dark?

[X] - You frown as you flex your right fingers and grasp nothing but air.

[X] - It’s a relief to feel lighter at the waist but it’s uncomfortably lighter, almost as if you’re missing a leg.
A NEOPHYTE’S COMPENDIUM FOR QUD AND BEYOND - ARGENT EDITION

By Sar-Dur-Baz of the Wardens


A FOREWORD


My hope, I must correct myself, the hope of all wardens is that this book will serve as a guide to all those who come to Qud as well as all current inhabitants of this land that holds more mysteries than immortals will ever know. I have seen too many nomads have their arms bitten off by a crocodile in the swamp marshes or arrogant archeologists from a far off Eco-Dome succumbing to the rank pestilences in the ruins of Golgotha. Whilst Qud is indeed gorgeous, it is also one capable of great terror at a moment’s notice. Preparation and knowledge are not your only tools as is your ability to adapt to the cruelty this realm offers at a moment notice.

History is fluid in Qud. For example, woud you know that Uboroqu, the Ape King of the Blemished Hills, and the Baboon Lord, Oh-Ah-Ooo-a-o of the Frigid Swamps are in fact the same figure? Or that many of the deeds of the fourth Sultan, Nimswhour, are in fact the same as Reseph? Do not heed my words here as truth but merely as opinion. The ennui of millenia has set its fangs and like the River Svy, historical fact parted like tributaries into stories, myths and folklore. For the truth is that we embellish the mundane and diminish the epic.

Regardless, my dear reader, I know what precarious position you find yourself in. I myself was once an inanimate block of foamcrete until someone decided to animate me to life. Any existential anxiety about how I was thinking without neural pathways was forgotten in the name of surviving in the harsh and treacherous environment in front of me. Whatever fears you have, your survival must not be forgotten.

Live and drink, traveler.

CHRONOLOGY


Qud adheres to a strict 365 day lunar calendar with our years labelled after the death of the final Sultan, Reseph, and rely on noting the distinct positions of the sun and moon in place of days. The Consortium of Phyta have arduously advocated for the adoption of P.P (Prior to Publication) instead of B.R (Before Reseph) and A.R (After Reseph) at the previous Warden’s Moot.

The names of the 12 months are as follows.

Nivvun Ut
Iyur Ut
Simmun Ut
Tuum Ut
Ubu Ut
Uulu Ut
Ut yara Ux* (5 days)

Note: Controversial amongst many races. Some prefer not to recognise Ut Yara Ux, believing it to not even be worthy of demarcation as a month, whilst others cite its importance to the Fellowship of Wardens as a period of time where the annual Warden’s Moot is held, a yearly diplomatic conference held between all of the local principalities and major settlements in Qud.

Tishru i Ux
Tishru ii Ux
Kisu Ux
Tebet Ux
Shwut Ux
Uru Ux

Based on a millennia of observation, official consensus amongst Qud’s astronomers , with support of the Barathrumites, there are 9 distinct periods of time throughout the day. These periods can be identified by the changing hues of the sky when Qud’s sun intermingles with the clouds.

Waning Beetle Moon - Completely dark.
The Shallows - Magenta.
Harvest Dawn - Blue.
Waxing Salt Sun - Light Blue.
High Salt Sun - Yellow.
Waning Salt Sun - Light Orange.
Hindsun - Dark Orange.
Jeweled Dusk - Purple.
Waxing Beetle Moon - Dark Green.

Geography of Qud




At the end of their journey, Travellers will most likely first find themselves in the Great Salt Desert. The Moghra’Yi, as called in the language of the man-camels, serves as the first deterrence for any traveller looking to venture into Qud and is the main barrier between it and other regions. Dromad caravans and pilgrims are commonly harassed by the Issachari, the salt-kissed nomads of the ivory dunes. On the land, krakens ranging from the size of a ray cat to small hills make the dunes tremble in their wake whilst the sky is patrolled by flocks of dawngliders ready to roast any wanderer with their flaming choler.

In the northern reaches of this great desert sprouts the Six Day Stilt, the holy temple of the Mechanimists and where their main clergy is located at. Rumored to be built in the corpse of an elder salt kraken, the Stilt’s main attraction is the Sacred Well of Kaphascence. Crowds of religious pilgrims and zealots arrive to offer piety by offering technological artifacts into its neverending gullet. Like moths surrounding a glowsphere, bazaars and merchants part fools of their precious water,

Between the eastern jungles and the Moghra’Yi lies a marshy swamp bordered by rust-caves and the lips of desert canyons. The farming hamlet of Joppa is the most prominent of several settlements in this area, acting as the beating heart that supplies its smaller neighbours with watervine crop and trade routes. Warring snapjaw dictators and conquerors have made their home here in the Red Canyons, scavenging what they can to survive whilst hunting the weak to nourish their warpath. The labyrinthian nature of the canyons along with the ferocity of the local wildlife thankfully prevents these warlords and their armies from spreading all across Qud.

To the north lies the Black Shelf, a flat-topped plateau of obsidian from where the canyon walls sprout and spread across Qud. Asphalt and molten rock bubbles out from the various caves that pocket it, yet, none seem to be worried about the encroaching eruption that may occur. The pastoral Flower Fields burgeon to the south and dot Qud’s dirt with kaleidoscopic petals.There are rumors that a hidden settlement of hindren exists in the kaleidoscopic flower fields, though, the rainbow forest more often than not wards off any searchers with the bushes of feral lahs.

Parted in half by River Svy, Qud’s jungles claw over the chrome caves and ancient rubble of a thousand civilisations, buried underneath layers of loam and dirt. The most famous of these ruins are Golgotha, the Graveyard of Fester, Bethesda Susa, the Cryo Spire and Grit Gate, home of the Barathrumites.
Despite the hidden treasures deep within these rust caves, danger is liable to snap up unprepared adventurers. Naphthaali tribes roam through the brush whilst the brutal goat folk clans decimate unwary travellers who traverse into their territories. Of all the forest villages that persist in this dangerous environment, the mushroom village of Kyakukya stands tall behind their worship of Oboroqu, the Ape God.

Besides that, there are only a few other spots of interest in these jungles other than the neverending chrome ruins that are uncovered everyday. The Rainbow Grove is the domain of the fungi, a breeding ground of life and death where tributaries of primal creation flow through living geysers of riches. A tremorous footstep marks the northwest, where countless live in the shelter of the Crater. Finally, the Bore of Omnoch carves a chewed tunnel into the wells of youth where the Screaming Men lie, waiting.

To the northern jungles lies the alien Spindle, a gargantuan needle of endless sliver that punctures the blue firmament into the unknown. Under its shadow is the Corrupted Groves, where daccas wait to rob unsuspecting humans of their fluids as they stare at the succulent fields of bananas. In the center of the grove is Omonporch, the base of the Spindle and considered the consecrated grounds of the Consortium of Phyta. Nearby is the tree village of Ezra, where humble banana farmers make a living harvesting their wild brethren.

Beyond Qud’s jungles, further east, past the scabbed Red Mountains, lie glowing ruins where few dare venture into.The Deathlands. The level of radiation in this region is toxic enough to blemish the sky violet.

Needless to say, there are some things there that should never be unearthed.

Regions Beyond Qud


Please keep in mind, dear reader, that the information in this section is based on hearsay from dromads who wander beyond the Moghra’Yi, fungal spores that drifted on the salt-spangled winds and glowfish spawn who swam down River Svy from beyond the Black Shelf.

The trio of Eco-Domes where most True Kin in Qud originate from are the Toxic Arboreta of Ekueimikuye, the Crustal Mortars of Yawningmoon and the ice sheathed arcology of Ibul. Out of all of these three arcologies, the Fellowship of Wardens possess the most knowledge about the Toxic-Sheathed Arboreta and Ice-Sheathed Arcology from collaboration with Sheba Hagadias, the librarian of the Stilt. Most Eco-Domes operate on a hierarchical caste system with each caste having certain roles that allow the arcology to function.

The Holy City or the Toxic Arboreta dwells in the undergrowth of Ekueimikuye, located to the far east. Horticulturalists tend and prune the overgrown rabid gardens that threaten to throttle and infest the poisoned air that its inhabitants are forced to breathe in everyday. The Holy City gives birth to new ecosystems everyday, petri dishes of evolution to sustain the hunger of the arcologie’s growing population. The Sun and Moon Priests tend to the woes of the masses by offering them faith in the breathtaking sunset and moonlight that dawns upon them everyday and to take solace that every lungful of corrosive air that they swallow is a gift from the gods. Finally, the Sygyzyrior caste are honor-bound hunters, dedicating each of their kills to the Sun and Moon Priests whilst providing the population with questionable sources of protein.

The aptly named Ice-Sheathed Arcology of Ibul is located in the Ibul Ice Sheet, a treacherous tundra of mammothian bergs and inhospitable for most lifeforms. The most technologically advanced of all known arcologies thus far, they carve geometrically impossible structures out of the glaciers, pathing lit streets of chiseled ice so smooth you could mistake it for glass. The Ibulians favor diplomacy and knowledge amongst all. The caste of Artifex maintain research and development of lost Eater technology whilst the Ibulian Consuls rule above all other castes, making executive decisions and diplomatic deals with other arcologies and settlements. In terms of servitude, the Eunuch caste serves as the left hand of the Consuls, dealing in everyday tasks and assignments that would be a waste of their precious time. The Praetorians, meanwhile, are the main military branch of Ibul, utterly organized, disciplined and strong enough to lay waste to any cretin that dares touch their arcology.

The location of the Crustal Mortars remain ever mysterious to us, buried somewhere beyond the Fuming God Sea, south-west of Moghra’Yi. There are rumors that they live underground near the trembling wake of calderas and volcanoes but such a location would be inhospitable for any life, much less a human. The inhabitants of Yawningmoon, named explicitly thus due to the moonlight penetrating the cracks in the geologically active earth, are a hardy lot, dealing in industrial trade. The Crustal Mortars are known amongst traders for being the primary source of refined metals and glassware. The traditional caste system is revoked in favor of a more egalitarian hierarchy that consisting of two classes. The lower classes are known as Children and primarily engage in trade work. The Children of the Hearth engage in metallurgy, the Children of the Wheel pottery and sculpturing and the Children of the Deep responsible for overseeing mining operations. The upper class are known as the Children of the Fuming God who are the clerics of the Yawningmoon. Using noxious emissions from geothermal vents to fuel their visions, they share their faith with the other Children after a busy day of toiling with jolly shanties.

Of course, there are countless other eco-domes mentioned by word of mouth. The Truncated Oasopolis of Erranea. The Savannah-Shrouded Byesh Calipharchy. The Indigo Sky-Lattice of Occ. These names and more have been uttered by True Kin who have come into Qud.

Apart from the innumerable Eco-Domes located across the world, the closest region to Qud is a land known as the Sunderlies, located far west of the Moghra’Yi. In these sandstone bluffs lie great cave cities known as freehold where the tides of the Pale Sea break upon the Shore of Songs. Although there is a considerable population of mutants in the Sunderlies, a large portion of the demographics is composed of true folk clans, unmutated cave humans who emerged from the depths of the Sunderlies. However, multiple civil wars and internal strife have reduced their number to a paltry five consisting of Oth, Athenreach, Perth, Irisveld and Goldmouth. Each freehold is controlled by a clan and their vassals.

The eponymous freehold of Oth was established by Oth, the freeman, and a clan of espers known as the Tyrants. Ruled by the Free Seer, Oth maintains an geopolitical advantage over other freeholds through having their leader possessing psionic prescience. Debate remains whether or not the caste of non-psionic workers are there of their own will or psychically thralled by the Tyrants to remain there as their servants. Oth is seen by other espers as a safe haven from other psychic assassins that seek to absorb their mind, although, the cost is of their own autonomy and forced membership into the Tyrant Cult.

Athenreach, once a humble fishing kingdom, is now the center of the Eustace-Sutta monastery. Originally established by mountain and river nymph clans, civil war and strife from a succession crisis led to the local population embracing the Eustace-Sutta discipline. There is considerable tension between the fishing villages who worship the river and mountain gods and the mass majority of the other population who are all initiates and followers of the Eustace-Sutta doctrine. It is common to see vast groups of pilgrims walking across the mountains to Athenreach.

Old and mighty Perth is the oldest of all the Freeholds, maintained by the founding trio of Clans Karst, Sotur and Rowen. Being the first to set foot and establish settlement in the Sunderlies, they possess the most land, the most armies, the most resources and the most influence out of all the freeholds. However, interclan rivalry exists with Sotur battling the ambitions of Clans Karst and Rowen in an attempt to maintain stability.

Irisveld is an pastoral freehold that is the beating heart that supplies all other freeholds with sustenance and quench. Their fields of verdant green are a blessed sight in the arid region and the beauty of their people is beyond compare, well, in terms of human subjectivity. To most mutant species and sentient plants, they are unremarkable. Due to claims perpetuated by the ruling class of Irisveld about their genetic purity, this has made their population ripe for recruitment by the Putus Templar, much to the disapproval of other freeholds.

Goldmouth, unlike most freeholds, was not established by a clan and instead, through the collaboration of several merchants' guilds. They are the most affluent and wealthy of all the freeholds, forgoing a monarchical system in favor of a council composed of representatives from each guild. However, excessive lending and bribery has led to severe corruption. Its relative youth compared to other freeholds

Alas, for all that I have said, our knowledge is still incomplete.

What lies beyond the Deathlands?

Are there other cities beyond the Pale Sea?

How many other Eco-Domes exist beyond Qud?

What other civilizations lie beyond Qud and the Sunderlies?

Races


The number of beings that inhabit Qud range from the atomic to the gigantic, to the pacifist to the bloodthirsty and from the humanoid to the inhuman.

Mutated humans are the most populous race in Qud, outnumbering their True Kin cousins by ten to one, and the most varied. From gills to quadrapedic feet and scaled skin, mutants are the new normal. It’s said that no two mutants in Qud are ever the same. However, from natural selection and geographical pressures overtime, new species have erupted from the loose conglomerate of mutated humans.

The urshiib are a race of bipedal quilled albino bears who have a propensity for engineering and technological modification. Most live in the closed off enclave of Grit Gate although a few can be spotted walking around Qud. They are a peaceful race, concerning themselves with more philosophical and abstract matters, and rarely engage in combat.

The dromads, otherwise known as the man-camels of Moghra’Yi, are occupational caraveners and merchants who travel from and to Qud across the Great Salt Desert, bringing with them riches from afar. They are typically the most knowledgeable when it comes to the affairs of foreign regions. Great Saltbacks, alabaster turtles the size of houses, are typically used by the dromads to carry their heavy load of goods afar as well as for transport.

Otherwise, this leaves us with the less refined races. The snapjaws are a crude, motley group of hyena scavengers who have easily spread all over Qud. The vast majority of snapjaw kind has been forced under the warlike ambitions of snapjaw dictators who seek to conquer and ransack the neighbouring settlements of Qud. The jungle-dwelling goatfolk, in spite of their higher level of organisation, are not behooved as some might think. These 6 foot tall muscular bipedal goatmen are aggressively territorial and will gore any stranger on sight with their horns or chop them to bits with their carbide weaponry.

Unlike mutants, sapient animals are fewer in comparison despite the abundance of wildlife in Qud. Only a few members of any species are capable of transitioning into sapience. The mayor of Kyukukya is the foremost example of this, being a fully sentient albino ape fully capable of cognizant speech. Typically, sapient members of a species act as de facto leaders of small tribes.

Unmutated humans are known amongst the denizens of Qud as True Kin. In spite of their genetic purity, some True Kin, particularly from the Putus Templars, suffer from extreme physical deformities due to excessive inbreeding and genetic alterations to prevent mutations. They are perhaps the only individuals in Qud able to properly interface and utilize the lost artifacts that the Eaters left behind. True Kin are the only race in Qud properly capable of undergoing cybernetic augmentations to bolster their dwindling organic physiology.

Alas, who can forget about the wide range of sentient plants in Qud. These can range from fractus, flowers, lily pads and the odd vine. Despite their unassuming appearance, they are some of the oldest and wisest races in all of Qud with a lifespan measured in millenia. In order to communicate with other species, plants in Qud have developed a form of universal language through the quivering of their leaves. Most species of sentient plants within Qud are formal members of the Consortium of Phyta with the exception of fungi.

Robots found in the chrome ruins of Qud are typically hostile towards all organic lifeforms as a result of their pre-Sultanate subroutines. Robots that have integrated within Qud’s societies often do so as a result of malfunctions, programming errors or being built intentionally to do so. An example of the latter are the chromelings, miniature humanoid droids built by the Barathrumites to assist with their experiments.

We come to my race. Newly sentient beings. We only number by a dozen but we are slowly emerging everyday. From folding chairs to walls of fulcrete, newly sentient beings can be anyone and anything. The typical way to create a newly sentient being is to artificially induce a nervous system within an object through use of nano-neuro animators or concentrated brain brine in high enough doses. Regardless, the experience of being a newly sentient being is unempathisable. Imagine that you wake up from a long nap and suddenly realize that you’re a door with feelings. Could you imagine that?

No, I didn’t think so.

Mutations


Mutations can roughly categorized into two types: physical mutations that alter the physiology of the mutant or mental mutations which allow the user to use psychic abilities. There are three specific morphotypes of mutants: chimeras who can only express physical mutations, espers who can only exhibit mental mutations and hybrids who display both types of mutations. With the exception of non-biological beings such as robots, anyone is able to mutate given the right circumstances.

Physical mutations can vary from more subtle mutations such as infravision, enhanced regeneration and hyperflexibility to the more visible such as wielding bioorganic hydro-pressure cannons, growing multiple noses, a prehensile tail or a belly face. Like a muscle, wielders can condition or shift the growth of their mutations as they mature over time through practice. Mutagens can be used to spur up growth but it is ill-advised as severe physical deformities can occur during this process.

Mental mutations allow the wielder to achieve psionic powers and are generally considered to be more dangerous than their relatively mundane chimeric counterparts. From freezing entire fields to imploding warriors in their own armor, there is little an esper can’t accomplish if they are trained well enough.

Those who accrue significant mental mutations over time begin to exhibit a phenomenon known as a psychic glimmer. From hypothesis and observation, we conclude that this glimmer is a form of extra dimensional energy that emanates from an esper. The degree of this exponentially increases with the esper’s abilities. From the perspectives of espers we have interviewed, the glimmer is the radiance of the soul. Whilst undetectable by normal means, it is visible to other espers who describe it as a “ window to the self”. The more powerful an esper’s psychic glimmer is, the more likely they will be hunted down by psychic beings whose appetite will only be satiated by melding their minds with the esper in question, usually killing or reducing the esper to a catatonic state.

I weep for those espers whose minds have been consumed. If only we Wardens could do more to stave off this threat.

Major Factions of Qud


The Barathrumites - A hidden enclave of technologically savant urshiib, albino quill bears, hidden underneath the abandoned complex of Grit Gate. All follow the leadership of Barathrum the Old, an elderly urshiib who is said to have existed since the dawn of Qud itself. Although they live an isolated life from the rest of Qud, they do occasionally share their technology with other settlements and accept non-urshiib as apprentices from time to time. Their willingness to do so has led to the proliferation of tinkers, both human and non-human, throughout every village in Qud. Sworn enemies of the Putus Templars.

The Putus Templars - A violent fascistic sect of extremist True Kin who seek to rid the world of mutants by any means necessary, claiming to be the original descendants of the Eaters of Earth and therefore, the sole inheritors of Qud itself. However, their dedication towards genetic purity has led to severe inbreeding, even amongst the standards of most True Kin arcologies. They have attempted to circumvent the toll of genetic disorders by using a cocktail of tonics and heavy cybernetic augmentation. They inhabit the north-east of Qud’s jungles and are one of the worse threats to the sanctity of civilization in Qud. Enemies to everyone outside of True Kin.

The Consortium of Phyta - An organisation of sentient plants and flora who are ironically one of the most technologically advanced factions in Qud, rivalling the Barathrumites in expertise and surpassing them in knowledge of Eater history due to their location near the Spindle. They are responsible for the transfer of information and local news in Qud through a network of sentient plant informants who use complex signals of pheromones to transmit data. Whilst more friendly than the templars, their moral values are considerably more stranger and off-putting than what most mutants are used to, bearing contempt towards most fleshy beings. However, this attitude is only present in the more conservative members of the Consortium with progressive members adopting a more holistic view of other species.

They have a considerable hatred of fungi and have banned any fungi from joining their organisation. No, don’t expect them to explain their reasons to a fleshy outsider like you unless you’re one of their own.

Friends and allies to nobody except if you have enough water.

The Fellowship of Wardens - A loose guild of law keepers whose members are commonly hired by almost every settlement and village to protect them from outside threats. Each warden is unsupervised and given total independence on how to handle situations with the settlement they are charged with protecting. Notable for their lax standards for acceptance which means anyone of any race or background can join the Wardens. Hold the annual Warden’s Moot on the fourth day of Ut Yara Ux, a conference for Wardens and representatives from every faction to report and discuss the current state of affairs in Qud. Friends to everyone except the Putus Templars.

The Mechanimists - The most dominant religion in Qud and beyond the Moghra’Yi. Followers worship a pantheon of deities known as the Argent Fathers. They primarily revere the ‘chrome’, a term that refers to advanced technology abandoned by the Eaters of Earth, seeing it as holy and a part of the Kasaphascence. One of their central beliefs is the ideal of chrome guilt, the belief that all individuals who use these complex machines incurs a heavy price on their soul. In order to redeem themselves, they must cast off all artifacts in their possession and live a life of technological chastity. However, the Fellowship of Wardens have observed high ranking members of the Mechanimist clergy using artifacts and are unsure whether or not to point out this contradiction in the next Warden's Moot.

The identities of the Argent Fathers, unlike the Sultanate, are known and not up for debate with each of their statues erected in the center of the Six Day Stilt. There is some turmoil between sects about whether or not the Argent Fathers were earthly beings or not but it is this table’s belief that the very existence of Reseph puts all claims of immortality to rest. There are seven primary gods that the Mechanimists worship, including the Kasaphascence.

Shekhinah, the Father of Fathers. The lead deity of the Argent Fathers and the one most worshipped by the faith. Considered to be the creator of all life, organic and inorganic alike.

Bel the Protector. Stated to be a warrior of incomprehensible weight whose epochal aegis blotted out the stars.

Carthax the Athlete. The man of motion who inspires Qud’s mutants and true kin to accomplish physical feats of athleticism.

Dagon the Orator. His curled frown of pride and ego teaches all to cow underneath his spoken word.

Nisroch the Star Mason. Sitting on top of the earth, he weaves the stars with his neutronium hammer and tongs, forging great works in the heavens.

Reseph the Above. The foiler of mercury and healer of the sick.

And lastly, the Kasaphascence. The mother of all chrome where the spillage of her womb birthed all of creation. She ranks the highest amongst all of the Argent Fathers, even Shekhinah.

Though the number of myths surrounding the Argent Fathers and the Kasaphascence, though only two are of great importance. The first is the Sacred Joining, whereby the Argent Fathers first discovered the Kasaphascence and used her womb to birth the chrome of Qud, akin to a cosmic furnace. The second is the Edification whereby the primordial metal birthed from the Kasaphascence womb was used by the Argent Fathers to shape the ruins of Qud.

Different believers of the faith will pick and choose who is worthy of their worship, based on their own interpretation. The favoring of one Argent Father over the other has led to schisms within the faith, leading to formation of groups such as the Cult of the Coiling Lamb who dedicate themselves to the teachings of Reseph.

Generally friends to everyone except those who defile their holy monuments.

Technology of Qud


The works of the Eaters of Earth dot the soil of Qud. At the height of their power, the Eaters explored a hundred thousand heavens, shaped flesh into euclidean geometries, siphoned starblood and negotiated with beings from beyond the aether. Ever since their fall, more and more of their technology has been lost to the ages and rendered unstudiable by their own efforts by future generations. The Barathrumites and the Consortium of Phyta are the only independent entities within Qud who are responsible for the progress, development and rediscovery of old and new technologies left behind by the Eaters. Due to Qud being the center of Eater civilization, adventurers and arconauts commonly venture into its chrome caves or ruins in search of lost artifacts left behind.

Data disks are the most typical method of transferring and obtaining blueprints, information or info signatures from one person to another through psycho-crystallic inscription. Though their construction varies between each tinker, data disks are invaluable in their ability to instantly communicate vast quantities to an individual’s brain at a moment’s notice, provided the individual’s psyche and intellect is capable of handling the vast strain.

Modern day cybernetics in Qud are only usable by those who lack mutations, or True Kin. A mutant who attempts to use cybernetics will find themselves at the wrath of the Eater’s built in ‘purity’ countermeasures designed to harm those deemed unworthy. There are very few ways to be safely modified without extreme harm and to this date, there has been no mutant or true kin who has been able to produce stable cybernetics. Usage of a Becoming Nook is the common way to implant cybernetics. However, this comes with the caveat of having to use rare cybernetic credits, a once common currency in the Eater civilization, to upgrade your license and increase the quality of your procedure.Cybernetics can range from benign such as telescopic vision and built in drug synthesizers to more invasive augmentations such as detachable forearm zweihanders or jet powered rocket feet.

Transportation within Qud is limited to walking on foot with faster means considered to be unwise due to the rough terrain and number of hazards that favor more caution. Personal teleportation through the use of hand held recoilers is another method but is rare and limited in terms of power and versatility. Recoilers typically can only be coded to a single coordinate and require rare power cells in order to function properly.


History and Culture of Qud

If we must start at a beginning, it begins with the Eaters. The influence of the Eaters of Earth are heavy in Qud with the Spindle being just one of the main examples of their legacy. The chrome ruins buried underneath loam and soil were once their homes, their government, their lives. We walk on their history yet we’ve nearly forgotten all about them. We know little about them, yet, ironically, they are responsible for Qud as it is.

After the Eaters, the Sultans took advantage of the chaos left in their wake, taking charge to define the past, present and future of the land. Consisting of six rulers, each of their eras has left their mark on Qud and represented severe technological decline and loss of knowledge. The history of their accomplishments and lifetime is ill-defined and has been lost. Little has been officially archived and historians of Qud believe that many of the ‘Sultans’ worshipped by various settlements may be false along with their proclaimed feats. Memorials can be found scattered all over Qud as well as abandoned cities and ruins that were built in their name.

Only the identity of the Sixth and Last Sultan, Reseph, is universally agreed upon. Unlike his predecessors, Reseph is widely beloved throughout all of Qud for defending its populace from the Gyre, a series of malignant plagues that befell Qud, and the Girsh, hideous black-blooded abominations from the deep. Sightings of Reseph as a ghostly apparition have been spreaded by wayfarers and debunked by scholars who claim it to be the result of hallucinations brought on by excessive dehydration.

Throughout your travels, you may come across the phrase ‘Live and Drink’. Whilst this may seem strange to you, it is a common greeting of respect throughout Qud in recognition of the profound status of Water. Unlike other regions, potable water is rarer in Qud and even rarer to properly harvest. Most water found in Qud is either contaminated for purification to work or far too saline for consumption. Its inhabitants cannot count on precipitation as rainstorms rarely occur in Qud. When weather does occur, it is not the relief of fresh water but sleets of burning acid rain and the shearing brunt of glass storms from the Moghra’Yi.

Such is the economic importance of water that it is the main currency in the region, measured by the dram. The infamous water Barons maintain a stranglehold over the market price of goods in the region due to their monopoly over most available water sources. Qud’s economy is therefore built on a simple barter system where valuables are traded for other items with precious water being used to balance the transaction.

We must not forget about the water ritual, though.

The water ritual is the key facet that underscores Qud’s diplomacy. The exact details and minutiae of the water ritual differs amongst every culture and every settlement but the constant between all of these variations is that it involves the act of selflessly giving your own water to another person. It is the act of unity, of trust, of friendship, of a sacred connection so deep that severing it would be akin to tearing your heart out. Alliances have been forged, trades brokered and marriages annulled due to this time-honored ritual. To enact a water-ritual with a stranger is to call them your water-sibling.

Killing or betraying your water-sibling is a horrific act and doing so is considered a crime greater than any act of murder, robbery, rape or slavery. It is morally indefensible. Exile is the least of your worries. Death would be too kind for you.

Glossary


Artifacts - Items or technology too complex for the average individual to comprehend.

Arcology/Eco-Dome - Name for the self-sustainable domed environments that most True Kin live in.

Baetyl - A group of mysterious spherical robots who are said to offer unimaginable rewards in return for a certain favor.

Dram - Shorthand term for a unit of measurement for liquids and unit of currency in Qud.

Carbide - A lightweight blue metal alloy constructed from nanotubes. Typically oulded into weapons and armor.

Fullerite - A dense black heavy metal found in synthetic deposits in the chrome caves of Qud.

Crysteel/Zetachrome - Two types of synthetic metal unique to Qud itself. Though both are different in their uses, their origins are the same. Both are synthesized by manipulating the very fundamental forces of space-time to form star-enriched plasma into solid material. No current method exists for producing either of these metals, though, the Consortium of Phyta has claimed success in producing shards of crysteel.

Gaslight - Term for a type of weaponry that emits an ethereal blade of energy from a hilt instead of metal.

Live and Drink - Standard greeting and parting phrase in Qud. Other races and factions have twisted the phrase for their own uses as to reflect their culture.

Parasang - The metric unit of distance in Qud, with one parasang the equivalent of the distance travelled for one hour on a Great Saltback. Competes with the imperial unit, Svymax, for dominance of the standard system of distance measurement in Qud.

/\/ Whimsical Ventures of Fantastical Retrofuturism /\/




18th of Uulu Ut, 3 A.R (After Reseph)

Dreams are the poems of the mute, the paintings of the blind and the music of the deaf. It is a master of your body but a prisoner to your unconscious whims. This time, though, you are falling. Endlessly towards a dodecahedron in the void. It whispers to you in seductive equations, to subsume into code and become one with it. Like the crowing of a dawnwing, Qud’s discordant melodies rouse you from your peaceful chrysalis of slumber.

You awake in one of the sandstone abodes of Hasgahem, a village situated on the canyon springs. Fishing lines dip inside scillintating mineral pools, eddies of azure gas swirling in their depths. Thatches of gnarled dogthorns provide plentiful shade from the sweltering sun.

As you recollect your memories like the fragmented remains of a jigsaw, you piece together the present. A trio of dromads, members of the expedition you were hired for, debate over the intricacies of wine trading in the wake of a cooling fireplace. Around you are meandering slopes of salt-encrusted rust, red rims etched down into bands of baked sediment. Further out, you take note of the distant surroundings.

To the west lies the eternal expanse of Moghra’Yi, the Great Salt Desert. The alien Spindle erupts in the northeast and cuts through the heavenly firmaments of Qud’s dappled sky. Qud’s jungles swarm the southeastern landscape over fossilized silver ruins of yore. The Chrome Ruins preside over the east and beyond that, violet clouds thunder ominously over the radioactive Deathlands.

Your stomach rumbles. A shrill series of barks alerts you to atention. Alu, the raccoon leader of the expeidtion, invites you over to join the caravan in morning repast. Your appetite cannot deny his request as you walk over to them and listen in on the discussion. Whilst they argue, you peruse the texts that lay on the thatched brinewood table to refresh your memory of the land.

Whilst you have successfully arrived at Qud, your journey in this fabled land hasn’t ended. It has merely begun.

Live and drink, wayfarer.





Karsts is a linear science fantasy roleplay with elements of open-world sandboxing based on the fictional setting portrayed in the indie roguelike, Caves of Qud. Set in a distant post-apocalyptic future where the epoch of humanity has passed into mere myth; mutants, genetic deviants and extra-planetary beings pick over what remains of godlike civilizations shrouded by millenia of refuse. Multiple disasters, minor and world-shattering, over the aeons have driven the world into a quasi-medieval state where forgotten technology is slowly being rediscovered and repurposed.Those unmutated survive in self-sustaining Eco-Domes, independent arcologies built from forgotten technology. Right now, society is in a precarious state of teetering between extinction and renaissance and no one knows which way the balance will tip.

One of the most prominent regions in this world is called Qud. Every wayfarer has their own words for how to describe Qud. Dangerous. Alluring. Bountiful. Beautiful. Horrifying. Captivating. It’s majesty knows no bounds yet chance is a cruel mistress here as one second of carelessness could lead to your death. It's ruins are the stuff of legend, attracting adventurers like a glowmoth towards a candle. You find yourself here after becoming a member of a dromad funded archeological excursion, whether on purpose or by mistake. The reward was one part of your reason for joining but moreover was the mystery of Qud itself.

Don't fool yourself. You're no savior. You're no hero. You are not a legend. Well, not yet. Perhaps, you could become one.

In summary, think of this setting as the crazed lovechild of Gamma World and Dune who simultaneously had an affair with Adventure Time. It is a land of a thousand tales, stories of transhumanist philosophy, sentient agriculture, extraterrestrial archeology, political diplomacy, cuisine escapades, sapphic romance and cave spelunking. It’s experimental. It’s idiosyncratic. It draws from many places but creates its own path.

In terms of the genre, as implied in the subtitle as well as in the prior paragraphs above, this will be science fiction with a twist of pulp fantasy and a dash of classic action-adventure Indiana Jones thriller sensibilities.

If you’re still interested in joining this RP, please read on down below.

Map




Player Guidelines and Rules


- Have fun.

- Treat others with respect as how you would want to be treated yourself, unless you have a massive inferiority complex, which in that case, don’t. This is a RP where outside of IC, we provide a friendly environment where players are free to engage and discuss with one another without fear of being drawn into toxicity. If anyone is acting in a manner that is disrupting the RP and causing other players to be uncomfortable, you will be ex-communicated to another dimension.

- Be fun and be open to worldbuilding. Forging your own headcanon, creating your own factions or suggesting ideas is wholeheartedly encouraged. A key part of Qud is that it is a land of mystery where not even its most distinguished scholars have documented all of the world’s enigmas. Qud is vast and mysterious enough that reasonably any suggestion or theory could fit inside its vast smorgasbord of deliciousness. However, consult with the GM before suggesting or integrating lore within IC that provides systemic changes to the world itself.

- Standard conventions of roleplaying apply which means no metagaming, godmodding, munchkining, 4th wall breaking or inclusion of 18+ content that would violate RPG’s TOS in your IC posts. Note that mature themes do not mean writing graphic erotica.

- Think fun. When creating your character, your character shouldn’t be your standard fantasy hero or adventurer who is seemingly an expert in every field possible with some arbitrary weakness. I want real, fleshed out characters that have lived a life in this world and treat what would be strange to us as mundane. I want dynamicity. I want depth. I want so much depth that I could dig through your character’s backstory and find myself in China.

- Cooperation and communication are essential in this roleplay. Collaborative posting, although not essential, is allowed and encouraged if you are willing to do so. I will not force players to engage in collabs at any time during this RP.

- Know how to have fun with your post lengths. The writing I expect from players is quality over quantity with adherence to efficiency. I do not care how many words you write, although, this does not mean you can write one sentence and expect to get away with it. The minimum is one paragraph but I expect any player who joins this RP will know what expectations to set for themselves.

- There is no such thing as a posting schedule. That being said, players are expected to communicate frequently to the GM and other players if they are unavailable or have lost interest in this RP. Failure to do so after two weeks will result in the player being exiled to a chromatic plane of existence.

- Worship fun and feel free to sacrifice your character to maintain your personal autonomy of free time whenever you feel like it. You have no obligation to remain a member of this RP and you can freely request for your character to be shelved at any time. Do note that you can only make one character for this RP.

- You must accept the fact that I will be unfair to you whenever possible and that durian is the superior fruit to all other fruits in existence.




[X] - Defend your martial honor like a samurai truly would. Although you may be without your weapon, you can still use something from the surrounding Shelf to help you survive. Cut through these Smiler dogs and spill their blood in the name of the Clan you fought for. [1]




Retreat? You purge that traitorous thoughts from your head. Run away like a dishonourable, inkless coward?

You stood strong when a platoon of milkmen from the Dairy aisle assaulted your column at the northern freezers.

You stood unflinchingly as the Cult of the Smiling One unleashed the horrors of Security on you, charging on pidgeonback with lance in hand towards the shelf-tall robotic manservant.

You stood bleeding, protecting the glue farmers of Uhu, as several children huddled behind you in a pipeline, the tattered remains of your thousand folded katana in your hands against a horde of Smilers.

You will not fold now or in the foreseeable future. The first of the cultists comes towards you, a heavyset man with thick jowls who wears a headband crafted from measuring tape on his bald scalp. Your face wrinkles in disgust as you notice a dozen bad habits immediately. He grips his three-foot long spoon too loosely. His breathing is irregular. His back is bent too low. He never had the fortune to go through the martial regimen that the Stationary Shogunate provided to you.

“ ALWAYS LOW - urk!” His scream is cut short as your fist connects with the Adam's apple of his throat, stopping the deranged cultist dead in his tracks. You then rip the weapon from his dazed hands and take a moment to examine it. It’s not a spoon.

It’s a spork. Even better.

In one swift movement, you bring it overhead and then, down upon him, splattering his skull all over the shelf top, Specks of blood shower over your pristine paper armor like red paint over a clear canvas. The rest arrive, 20 in total, and look at you, unsure of whether or not to attack. You take a look behind. Haagen and Leash are taking care of a dozen Smilers on the other side of the Shelf. Haagen gives a personal demonstration to the Smilers that a ice cream scoop is sharper than it looks whilst Leash is busily turning them into dead meat as you hear the dull thwacks of staples entering their bodies.

A cry breaks the silence.

“ KILL THE SAMURAI!”

“ Steel bends and paper tears, only honour is eternal!” You reply in return, leaping into the horde of Smilers and begin a dance that you stepped thousands of times before in practice and in the fires of sport. Limbs fly as you swing the stainless steel in your hands into the thick of it, smashing bone with the flat of it and spearing through flesh with its three prongs. It is a thin line between bloodlust and discipline that you engage in, swinging your spork with mania and precision. One Smiler gets the bright idea to attack you from behind, failing as you shove the handle into her gut before silencing her heaving form with an underhand slash that spills her brains out.

“ Hold.”

The remaining Smilers stop attacking at the sound of the word.

Your muscles ache with the familiar twinge of fatigue. You haven’t gone this hard since Black Friday. Both Haagen and Leash have been subdued whilst you were battling, dozens of hands gripping their bodies. Haagen, in a fit of desperation, kicks the package you delivered towards you. You grab it and level out your spork towards the crowd. They hiss in response, surrounding you in a circle that grows ever smaller by the moment.

The crowd parts and rumbles as the same priest who spoke at the entrance of the Bargain Bin looks at you, not with geniality, but with a cold smile.

“ All this blood shed…….. What a waste. A shame that you are not on our side. I understand your hatred towards us, samurai.” He lisps over the first syllable breathlessly, as if uttering it gave him bliss. “ Out of respect for your loss in the last Black Friday, I will allow you to leave this Shelf with your head intact.”

You keep your guard up, shifting your body so that the package is guarded behind you. The priest notices, raising an eyebrow.

“ I see...." He then looks at Haagen with a sneer of contempt. " What did he give you to ferry it all the way here? I doesn't matter. You may think you know what you have in your possession but you have no idea what value it holds to me. Name your price, samurai. You fight for an ice cream smuggler and a feral beast. I suggest a person who values honour such as you should leave….and forget the past history between your department and our brotherhood. ”

“ Don’t listen to this gluten free coward!” Haagen yells madly at you. “ Protect it and I will pay you back a thousandfold!"

[X] - Give the package over to the priest. After all, how much can one package be worth?

[X] - Deny it from the priest. Whatever is inside the package, you can't guarantee that the Cult of the Smiling One won't turn it upon the Stationary Shogunate. They are still the same ones who led a crusade that razed dozens of departments during the Black Friday.

[X] - Destroy it so that no one can have it. If it's so much trouble to the both of them, you might as well cut the common factor out of the equation.
[x] - A Limited Edition Anniversary 2B Statedler Scrivener. Constructed out of space-age materials, this pencil is said to be able to keep its mono-molecular sharpness forever. Only 50 of these pencils were distributed during the Pre-Fall era and only the head members of the Founding Clans have each of one. The Scrivener is considered by many in the Wal to be a holy artifact and in the Stationary Shogunate, you will garner respect amongst your fellow samurai for having acquired such an artifact. Be careful not to lose this. [2]

[x] - A premium Wal-Pachinko lottery card. Many an aisler died attempting to get their hands on a lottery card and fewer have found a usable Wal-Pachinko machine. If you could find a working Wal-Pachinko machine, you would receive treasures that the Tronic Temple would gleefully sell entire tracts of their Department to buy. [1]




You grab the instrument gently by its shaft, the metallic sheen of the golden paint glowing like sunlight. It’s light but your hand trembles as if you are holding a shake-weight. It feels unworthy. Holding a sacred artifact of your department in your hands, you can’t imagine anything else that would atone for your crimes to the clan than this pencil.

“ Thank you, Haagen,” You bow courteously. “ You have honoured your side of the deal. I will not forget this. ”

“ Whaddya expect? This is the Bargain Bin. Everyone expects a fair exchange in this department.” He mutters errantly, more focused on the package than you. “ ‘Besides, I’m not that type of person. I may be engaged in a little bit of shoplifting but then, again, who doesn’t?”

You snort. Of course, everyone knew the truth of the Wal. Everyone was a shoplifter under the gaze of the automatons that lorded over their very lives and no one was a customer. No matter how well you tried to conduct yourselves, Security would always identify you as a worthless shoplifter. Then again, there were plenty of Departments and lesser factions that tried to convince themselves otherwise. Your mind wandered to the loud chanting of the Smilers as you tuck the Scrivener gently inside your belt.

“ I could think of some,”you said “ Nevertheless, the Sakura Clan is in your debt. If you ever need a -”

The floor beneath you begins to shake, making your feet stumble as you trip on non-existent ground. Poison comes to your mind at first but that thought soon disappears as you see the other occupants of the cereal box are swaying as well. This wasn’t a hallucination. Leash grabs you by the neck, stopping you from having a personal meeting with the cardboard floor. The shaking then stops. Haagen, however, is worse for wear, groggily clambering back up after falling down on his bum.

“ Samurai, was this you?!” Haagen points at you accusingly. “ Did your clan come down here for Sport?”
“ No.” Leash sniffs the air like a hound, taking long draughts of the tepid air. “ Different smell. More clean. More plastic.”

Haagen’s face then pales, white with fear. “ No, it can’t be…..” He dislodges an ice cream scoop stuck on his table before running outside with Leash. You follow them both. Outside is an inferno. So much so that the smoke makes your eyes water. The lower levels of the Shelf are burning and waiting at ground level is a horde large enough to take over an entire Department. Thousands of flaming match-sticks held by the same maniacs you encountered earlier in the Bargain Bin.

“ FOR SMILEY.” One of them at the front shouts. “ FOR THE GREAT SAM. PURGE ALL OF THESE SHOPLIFTERS, MY FELLOW SHOPPERS!”

You swear if you make it out of this alive to kill any Smiler you meet ever again. Just out of caution.

“ Useless knock-offs.” Haagen curses. “ All that Rocky Road I bribed them was all for nothing.”

“ Alwaaayss Low Prices!” The first of the horde haul themselves on top of the Shelf and begin running in a loose formation towards you, shrieking prayers to Smiley himself with outstretched rictus grins.

How do you respond?

[X] - Escape the Shelf and live to fight another day. Some of your kin may call this dishonourable but you see it as a matter of common sense. After all, you do not answer to these inkless brigands.

[X] - Defend your martial honor like a samurai truly would. Although you may be without your weapon, you can still use something from the surrounding Shelf to help you survive. Cut through these Smiler dogs and spill their blood in the name of the Clan you fought for.

Only 6 hours remain until voting closes. Remember that your vote counts!






War.

War never changes.


The final conflicts of the 21st century were not waged over religion or territory but over control of our dwindling resources. Nations that were once allies were at each others throats, intent on preserving what they had by taking what little others had. Finally, on the eve of 2077, the world was damned in a storm of nuclear fire and devastation. And for a while, darkness and quiet reigned over the cold, irradiated surface of Earth.

This would not mark the end of humanity. Many of those who survived the fallout did so in large underground vaults. When the surface became safe for settlement, the inhabitants spread out and colonized the surface, forming tribes and societies. As more and more of the world woke up, the same tired squabbles and conflicts that brought the world to ruin were reborn again.

Past the radiation storms of the Pacific Cauldron lie the myths of an unblemished paradise: the Aloha Isles. Before the Great War, the Aloha Isles were a haven for the rich and wealthy as they sought peace from the turmoil in America. However, on the shorelines of the Aloha Isles, another face remained unseen in its great harbors, that of nuclear warheads and fleets of warships hidden deep underwater.

In the decades following the end of the Great War, Kamehameha the Hermit, united the six islands under the flag of the New Hawaian Chiefdom and used military pre-war technology to turn the coastline into an expansive blockade. Over the next century, the New Hawaian chiefdom has defended their coastal heartlands from all manner of mutant, pirate and invader . As supplies began to dwindle on the island, new generations of Aloha Islanders began to relax their borders, recognising the need for trade and communication with the outside world.

It has been 50 years since the Aloha Isles announced their presence to the world and time has yet to judge their choice. Factions such as the Brotherhood of Steel and the fading remnants of the New California Republic seek to plunder the ancient military complexes on Aloha out of greed whilst others seek to begin again in paradise.

You are one tourist out of many seeking new fortunes on the recomissioned ocean liner, the Green Horizon. Whatever your intentions in the Aloha Isles, this cruise is on a collision course with fate itself…….





WHAT IS FALLOUT ALOHA

Fallout: Aloha is an action play-by-post roleplaying game set in the world of Fallout originally created by Interplay Entertainment. The majority of the roleplay will take place in the post-apocalyptic remnants of Hawaii in this universe. Players can feel free to use elements from all other related pieces of media within the Fallout universe or substitute their fanon, provided it fits into the setting.

Players are allowed to play a total of one character (alongside any pets or non-human companions) that can be of any race (within reason). Players can interact within their group or go off on their own to venture in the Aloha Isles (although this is highly discouraged).

The GM will play the role of various faction leaders, allies and enemies of the player OCs on the Aloha Isles. Players are encouraged to suggest their own factions, allies or any enemy factions they feel would be natural for the setting.

THE SETTING

The world of Fallout can be summarized in one word as “ post-apocalyptic satirical retrofuturism”. Unlike other counterparts in the genre such as “The Day After” or “The Stand”; Fallout is considerably more optimistic and uses its unique retrofuturistic setting to make light of the bleak circumstances of the aftermath of nuclear fallout.

The timeline of Fallout diverges from our own reality roughly around the end of World War 2. Technological development proceeded down a different route in Fallout as humanity harnessed atomic energy as a means of power and fuel for all manner of retrofuturistic appliances and technologies such as nuclear powered cars, advanced exoskeletons and laser guns. Things roughly proceeded down the same route as reality except with a lot more McCarthyism, communist paranoia, corporate monopolies and a dizzying amount of american exceptionalism.

Unfortunately, the same problems we face in our current world weren’t solved by these radical innovations. Shortages of every major resource began to spread across every country. Geopolitical alliances were abandoned and small scale conflicts began to emerge as countries tried to scavenge for every last drop of oil and gas. The U.S.A and China emerged as the foremost rivals, each engaging in proxy wars of annexation and conquest against one another.

This would all eventually culminate in the Great War. On October 23rd, 2077, the world was engulfed in a veritable nuclear holocaust. Billions of people died instaneously, entire continents were reduced to a blasted desert and millions more died from radiation, starvation or both. Small pockets of civilization managed to survive in large underground fallout shelters built before the war by Vault-Tec Corporation. These fallout shelters were known as Vaults. The mission of these Vaults were to keep their inhabitants safe from the effects of nuclear radiation and when the surface was deemed safe to live upon, release its inhabitants to colonise and rebuild a new society.

After 200 years, new factions arose out of the ashes. Societies like the New California Republic on the West Coast sought to replicate the structures of pre-war governments whereas other factions like the Brotherhood of Steel or Caesar’s Legion sought to embrace less traditional forms of societal hierachies to seek their own methods of civilizing the wastes. Blood and sweat has been spilt by these factions in the name of reclaiming pre-war technology, territory or simple ideological difference.

Technology isn’t the only difference in the Fallout universe. The effects of radiation are less akin to real life where you suffer horrifying mutations and die from acute radiation poisoning within seconds. Radiation in the Fallout universe is equivalent to magic. The wildlife in the Fallout universe has been horribly mutated beyond belief into freakish montrosities that pose a threat to normal wastelanders. In addition, a new species known as ghouls were born from humans that survived being exposed to large amounts of radiation. These ghouls are seemingly immortal and can heal instantaneously from any injury but have a higher chance of losing their mental faculties as they get older.

TL;DR: Fallout is a kooky, bleak, horrifying, satirical rendition of the post apocalypse. Think every retrofuturistic trope ala Flash Gordon mixed with Mad Max and you’ve got Fallout.




[X] - Ivory Crane, a monstrously huge paper odachi that is said to be crafted from compressed origami sheets. It is relatively lightweight for its enormous size but is considered to be unwieldy in close quarters. It more than makes up for it with a blade that can bisect a Stocker in half with enough force. It has seen battle with the edge have dulled over years of usage. [3]




You remember the time when you first received an Ivory Crane from your parents. These gaijin would never understand the history in its cracked pommel, the scratches on the tip that told of a thousand battles. You draw it out of its enormous scabbard, nearly as tall as you are, before shoving it into the bodyguard’s hands. It’s hard to let go, the comfortable grip parting itself reluctantly from your calloused palms.

“ Be sure to take care of it.” Your voice takes on a warning edge. “ Lose it and your soul will be my refund. ”

“ Yeah, yeah.” The bodyguard points to the waiting line behind you. “ You’re not the only aisler in the Bargain Bin. Let’s skip the bluster and get to the part where you’re here for business?”

“ And remember.” The other gruffly spoke. “ This ain’t the Stationary Department. No laws here, trials by combat, or tradition. All we care about is your price tag and what you’re willing to pay.”

You walk past the both of them and stand atop the elevator. Your blade disappears from sight as you slowly ascend into the upper levels of the Shelf. From the platform, you see poverty stocked on every shelf in all of its forms. Aislers scraping by on expired Kelogg’s corn flakes and old bubblegum boiled in a stew. A table where people gamble over minute amounts of tic tacs over price tag poker. A group of bandits armed with toothpicks confronting a lone beggar. Murder. Violence. Survival. All the most primal aspects of humanity stocked on a shelf.

You arrive on the highest level, the most opulent out of the entire Shelf. Instead of snack wrapper tents, these aislers could afford to shelter in the rare cereal boxes. You spot one distinct in the crowd, a 20 foot tall box that was labeled with the visage of Tony the Tiger, the muscled tiger god of the Cereai. The art depicted the deity flexing his ginormous striped biceps, veins popping out. The doorway was situated underneath his stretched out legs.

You heard the sound of loud munching as you walked into the dingy cardboard box. The smell of curdled milk was thick in the enclosed space. You spot a stocky man sitting behind one of those old XL Barbie playset tables from the defunct Toys Department. Cut styrofoam pads covered his entire figure like makeshift armor, making a shrill ear-renting squeak everytime he moved in place. Sweat glistened down his shaved head. He’s not used to a climate like the Bargain Bin. No air conditioning meant that the temperature was on the fritz between warm and tepid hot. He didn’t pay much attention to your arrival and was more engrossed in burying his face in the 3 foot long twinkie he has on the table.

Behind him was a mammoth of a man. There was no doubt he could lift you up by the neck and pop your head like a can of soda. A coat of multi-colored feathers covered his entire naked back whilst a paper bag skirt made up his lower extremities. Your only assurance against him was the two-inch paper cuirass that hugged your upper body along with the massive pauldrons on your shoulders. You try not to let the massive industrial stapler gripped in his tattooed arm intimidate you. He leaned his neck down to take a look at you before gently tapping the shoulder of his boss to interrupt him from his meal.

“ Well, well, look who we have here.” The man slid his twinkie to the side. “ You’re late. It’s rude to be late for a meeting.”

“ I was held by the - “ You stop one word short of cursing the Smilers. With the presence of the Smilers here in the Bargain Bin, you didn’t want to take the chance that your client was a Smiler sympathizer. “ commotion.”

“ The Cult of the Smiling One?” The man guffawed. “ Yeah, I can see that. They just came in a few days after the Spring Seasonal. Claimed to be on charity work to help out those who lost their Shelves during the Black Friday. By the time they got rooted here, the Department authorities couldn’t do anything.”

“ But I digress.” The man leaned out to shake your hand. “ Name’s Haagen. Dark and scowling over here is Leash. Now….., do you have it?”

You adjusted the angle of your body slightly to show the boxy package curled under your arm. The man’s eyes twinkled with hunger as you gave him the box, the table curling under the weight.
“ Hmmmm.” His brows were furrowed as he inspected it closely. You could only make out some of his mutterings. “ Never said anything about Wal-Tech. I wouldn’t be concerned if it was Tupperware but biometric locks? “

“ Do you not know what’s inside it?,” you asked Haagen.

“ I get paid not to know just as I’m paying you not to ask.” Once he was done inspecting, he nodded over towards Leach who produced a cooler from behind his back. He opened it and took out a clear bag, dangling from his fingers. “ As agreed upon, your reward.”

Leach lobbed it over to your open hands. It’s cool to the touch, dew coating your fingers. You slowly open the ziplock, revealing to you…….

[X] - A Limited Edition Anniversary 2B Statedler Scrivener. Constructed out of space-age materials, this pencil is said to be able to keep its mono-molecular sharpness forever. Only 50 of these pencils were distributed during the Pre-Fall era and only the head members of the Founding Clans have each of one. The Scrivener is considered by many in the Wal to be a holy artifact and in the Stationary Shogunate, you will garner respect amongst your fellow samurai for having acquired such an artifact. Be careful not to lose this.

[X] - A premium Wal-Pachinko lottery card. Many an aisler died attempting to get their hands on a lottery card and fewer have found a usable Wal-Pachinko machine. If you could find a working Wal-Pachinko machine, you would receive treasures that the Tronic Temple would gleefully sell entire tracts of their Department to buy.

[X] - A finger of the Great Sam. Well, supposedly the Great Finger of the Sam. The bone has been separated at the third digit and it shines with an unusual yellow glow. Well, supposedly the Great Finger of the Sam. Your client claims it was in the contract. Maybe, it’s a scam. Or perhaps, it isn’t. Do you want to take the risk?
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