Nieszka

Battletech: Anabasis

I really like the look of the LNX-9Q or LNX-9R. Decent speed, JJ's, 12 tons of armor (on a 55 ton mech) and an impressive arsenal.

The Legend of Gobbledygook

This looks like the start of something beautiful. Call me interested!

Battletech: Anabasis

I'd like to express a tentative interest. I played mechwarrior games as a child, but I don't remember enough of the lore to even tell if this is the same thing or not. I like the concept a lot though and will be reading up on the wiki.

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

One Month after Origin

On the eve of the longest day of the year, an old woman stood trembling in the center of the Blackwater Tribe’s gathering place. She gazed unseeing over the mass of people gathered before her, her watery eyes milky with cataracts, her shriveled hands held out as if to gather in all who watched in respectful silence. Despite her frail, stooped appearance, the woman’s quavering voice projected well over her audience, the tone rising and falling with all the art of an experienced storyteller.

“Today, there are four tribes of the Arakkai,” the old wise woman began, “For one bastion of our great people was lost only a moon before now. The sixth clan, as recorded by the wise women of that time, fell centuries ago, but not to any invading force.

“In that ancient time, Arianwen the Farsighted, a wise woman of this very tribe, was granted a prophecy of days to come. She stood before her clan and told of a day when one among us would be chosen by the god above all others to lead the Arakkai down from these harsh mountains, to raise this people above our enemies.

“After learning of the prophecy, which was shared by wise women in every tribe, it is said that Chieftain Meilir Serpentsbane scoffed in the face of his council. He claimed to need no Chosen leader. His people, he said, were strong enough on their own…”

Cerys, seated near the front of the crowd, let her eyes slide over to Eranor Blackwater where he sat watching the wise woman, his chin resting comfortably on one hand. The last several weeks had been ones of increasing tension as Cerys’s followers spread the tale of her rebirth among the Blackwater tribe and both she and Chief Blackwater had waited for her warriors to heal. The priestess had seen the preparations for war all through the camp, expecting Blackwater to rise up and lead his warriors to battle, to unite the clans and secure himself in the eyes of his people. Now, however, the eve of the summer solstice had finally arrived. Would the Blackwater Chief head the warning in the old wise woman’s story? Or would there be bloodshed tonight?

“…and so, Meilir Serpentsbane turned away from the wisdom of his spiritual council and lead his people in human sacrifice to prove their savagery to the Red Gods. At first these were enemies and outsiders caught within our lands, but soon Meilir’s thirst for blood ran out of easy victims and he turned instead to offerings from other clans. It was then that the first Great Convocation was held, the wise women from the five other tribes meeting to remove this heretic. Together, they conjured Tribe Serpentbane’s banishment from the Gradsfang Mountains. Today these people are the Saliszi, dark creatures enthralled by the bloody worship of their demonic weapons.”

The old woman let her hands fall to her sides, her face pensive while the crowd waited quietly for her blessing, wrapping up the evening of feasting, singing, and storytelling. Instead, however, she went on.

“This old story is full of great warnings and truths,” she started, “no less potent because of its great age. Perhaps the most important to us now, however, is the prophecy.

“I lift my old, useless eyes to the stars and see that future coming rapidly upon us. The Chosen, once so far away, is now close at hand. I may not live to see the coming glory, but many of you will so prepare yourselves to rise with your people.”

At the beginning of this benediction, Cerys had risen to her feet to the surprised looks and murmurs of those surrounding her. She did not interrupt, of course, but instead kneeled before the old woman deferentially. When the storyteller finished, Cerys raised those frail, trembling hands to her marked face and pressed them there.

The old woman froze, shocked with some knowledge only her blind eyes could see. She dragged dry, papery fingers over the priestess’s lips, cheeks, eyes, and soon tears coated the ancient one’s craggy face. She cupped her hands around Cerys’s face and leaned down to kiss her own each cheek.

“Let joy fill your hearts, my people! The Voice of the Wanderer lives!”

All was pandemonium. Tribesmen jumped to their feet, shouting in joy, in fear, in disbelief, those close to Eranor Blackwater protesting the loudest. The Chosen of the Wanderer was a leader, and Cerys did not fault their loyalty to their Chief in the circumstances, but something would need to be done.

Chief Blackwater himself soon made it to the raised platform and wrenched the old wise woman from where she still stood with Cerys. Shouts of shock and protest rose at once from all quarters. All wise women were revered and this old mother had likely blessed these people in their cradles, had stood over their coming of age ceremonies, had performed their marriage rites.

Cerys touched her left hand to her throat, projecting her voice across the noisy gathering. “Eranor Blackwater!” she yelled. “I name you a traitor in the likes of Meilir Serpentsbane for so mistreating a member of your council, on the summer solstice no less. Such a heretic has no place as the leader of one of the greatest tribes of the Arakkai. I, Cerys Shadowborne, Voice of the Wanderer, Defender of the Arakkai, challenge you for the right to rule this tribe!”

Where all had been clamor, silence now reined, the gathered people holding their breath in the face of this brazen challenge. Their leader only sneered.

“I invited you and your people, shivering and broken into my home. I have fed you and clothed you and given you a place, and this is how you repay me? With false accusations of heresy? Fine, you will have your challenge and have it now before you can scurry off to more womanish plotting. I will put you down like the two-faced bitch you are.”

Eranor flung off his bear pelt, revealing the impressive dark steel armor beneath, and drew the massive sword at his waist. Cerys gestured with a single hand over her simple leather clothing and sighed as the cool sensation of writhing black armor wrapped itself around her torso and limbs, its surface shifting with the indecipherable runes of some lost language.

“May the Wanderer judge my actions before the Pantheon,” she called. “And may all the Arakkai stand by his choice in this challenge.”

With a savage roar, Eranor charged, his massive longsword held out like a joust. Cerys eyed him calmly, waiting before dodging out of the way, her right hand closing around a sword of sinuous shadow.

Eranor whirled, quick and agile for so large a man, and brought up his sword to bring it cleaving down upon Cerys’s head. This time she did not move, but widened her stance and brought her own sword up to parry.

It seemed to take an age for the two blades to meet, the second stretching into years. Eranor kept his bowling down with all the strength of a man born in raised in the mountains, a man who had fought off constant attacks by the Saliszi, the Dratha, the wilds of the Greyfangs themselves. He meant to slice through the sword and the priestess alike.

When the two blades finally did meet, one solid steel, the other writhing magic, the dark blade melted through Eranor’s fine steel longsword like it was nothing, an entire foot of beautifully tempered metal thunking down on the wooden platform heavily.

The big mountain Chieftain seemed stunned, but Cerys was unfazed. Like a viper, she lunged forward and sank her flickering sword into the throat of the man before her, sending streams of black-red blood spurting into the clean mountain air.

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

No problem!

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

Here's the info from the OP post on the area:

Hider

Salished Empire: In spite of the fertility and wealth of its lands, the vast majority of the Rainland's inhabitants live squalid, depauperate lives as serfs and servants. In exchange for the protection of the land from the savage hordes from the unsettled world, these serfs toil all their lives to enrich the masters responsible for their safety.

The Salished Dynasty came about in the Year of the Setting Sun 7,200, when a tribe of mountain folk known to history as the Saliszi descended from the Godsfang Mountains to invade the verdant Rainlands below. The Saliszi warriors fought with weapons forged from Soulsteel, a magic-resistant, hypersharp metal that the petty Rainlander kingdoms had never encountered before. Saliszi swords were immeasurably superior against Rainlanders armed with iron and even Drathan-enchanted weapons. By 7,380, the Saliszi had established dominance over the eastern Rainlands. There, the Saliszi king Mardok established the city of Nyssos at the confluence of the Nabal and Tashgad rivers - and remains the seat of power of the modern Salished Empire to this day. A mixture of cultures transpired in the new Salished kingdom, Salished warriors adopted the lamellar armor, archery tradiation, and chariots of the Rainlands, while the inhabitants absorbed the language, architectural motifs, and religious concepts of their occupiers.

Over the next two centuries, the Salished Kingdom expanded across the rainlands. The conquest of the southern kingdom of Moribon gave the Salisheds the exceptionally fertile Nabal Delta and unhindered access to the sea.

Today, the Salished Empire is a sprawling bureaucratic state and is by far the most powerful nation on Azoth. United under the iron first of the Shashul, a warlord-emperor who commands the loyalty of a fearsome military machine, the true key to Salished strength is the Cult of the Forge: a monastic religious order devoted to cruel and hungry deities they believe reside in their Sacred Forges, where the Soulsteel is created. The gods, however, are ever-hungry, and require a constant stream of sacrifices in exchange for their boons. Virgins will do, but great mages and warriors are above all prized.

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

Red Gods: Azoth is a world filled with lurking spirits, mysterious intelligences, powerful beasts and haunted sites of power. Some of these- out of vanity or ambition or for other, more inscrutable motives- have set themselves up as gods. Many of these monsters and spirits are bloodthirsty, warlike, and feuding, often devouring each other when they become strong enough to do so. They grant their followers boons in exchange for blood sacrifices. The gods and demons making up the Red Pantheon are innumerable- it is not really known if they are all even one kind of thing...some are corporeal, others not- and most peoples and tribes who follow the pantheon worship one or a select few of the deities, though some worship the Pantheon as a whole, which they take to be symbolic of the fundamental nature of the cosmos- one of constant battle and unending appetite. Some of the red gods communicate and interact frequently with their devotees, while others remain aloof, answering prayers and rewarding sacrifices only occasionally and indirectly. Likewise, while some of the gods are tied to one specific holy site, others roam the world freely, manifesting themselves wheresoever they please.

@Flagg

The point is not to worship each individual Red God, but to worship the whole as a reflection of the chaotic nature of the universe, though (especially in the case of my people) some may be singled out. And yes most Red Gods have neutral or even opposing relationships with each other, The Wanderer (more information available in my lore sheet which the GM accepted 3 days ago) does not. Besides, this conflict only better portrays the chaos that the Pantheon represents.

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

@Ink Blood

That sounds good! The Arakkai are primarily acolytes of the Wanderer, but they do worship the entire Pantheon and hold the Wisdoms in particularly high esteem.

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

@Ink Blood

What does the Hermit believe? If he thinks he has been cursed by the Wisdoms wouldn't he hate them?

The tribes of the Arakkai are each ruled by a Chieftain (Or Chieftess) and a council of wise women. The Chief handles the day to day life of the tribe, while the council manages all things spiritual (birth/death rites, marriages, blessings, prayers, and spiritual education in the form of ritualistic storytelling). The two groups work together to manage important decisions like whether or not to go to war or make peace.

The wise women are always female because they believe they were given their power (Magic, foresight, etc.) by the Wisdoms in ancient times. According to legend, the first Arakkai wise woman proved her intellect and fortitude by passing a series of tests set forth by the Wisdoms after asking for their help in protecting her tribe. Rather than interfere directly, the Wisdoms granted that woman and a few of her people each following generation a fraction of their power, or so the Arakkai believe.

Because of this, the Arakkai people have a deep respect for their wise women and would be unlikely to seek spiritual aid from outside that council. However, the Hermit could be a respected ally, especially if he follows the Pantheon. He would be welcomed in their villages and could be someone they often trade with.

Blood on the Sands: Azoth at War (Open!)

That idea is a cool one to me. How would the bargain affect everyday users of soulsteel? Is there a price for using the superior weapons?