Resistance Radio is a simple concept. You're given a pirate radio station in an oppressive galactic empire that regularly commits genocide and crushes freedoms. You're given news reports, and you, as a radio team, must decide what to air and what to not. You must decide your radio schedule, when you air, and what you say and leave unsaid. You are not a soldier, not a commander, you are a news jockey and provider of hope. The rebellion you support will see many hardships you will be unable to control, but there is one thing you're good at; giving the common man resolve to fight.
Not only that, but you could be the force that unifies the rebel cells, the force that shapes the government to come. All by being in the right place at the right time with a radio signal and a dream.
Rules
Standard rules apply.
How do the RP mechanics work?
Basically, I give you a set of news stories on the happenings of the galaxy, whether political, military, or economic. It's your job to spin these stories to the resistance at large, giving -- or breaking, their resolve to fight. I will track the results of your news and future stories given to you will reflect what you told the resistance. You are a major force in the resistance, for news, for intelligence, and most importantly, for hope.
Character Sheet
Place this sheet in the OOC section, and move it to the characters section when approved.
[center][h1]Name[/h1] [img]Your Appearance[/img] [/center] [b]Speciality[/b] Your specialty here
[b]Origin[/b] Your backstory here.
[b]Species[/b] If human, just put human. Else, this is a classic sci-fi galaxy, give us general info about your species.
It's purposely a fairly short character sheet. Your background isn't as important as what you do on the radio.
Woah, hold up! What is this galactic government?
Consider the traditional components of the Galactic Empire from Star Wars. Remove the force, and you've got the empire you face. Mix this with the ruthlessness of the Universal Union from Half Life 2, and you have the resolve of the empire you face. Sector Admirals destroy planets for the kick of it. Entire populations are enslaved. Concentration camps are old news. In this climate comes your rebellion, the rebellion your radio encourages.
The Union of Aurea is an amalgamation of multiple petty kingdoms under one constitutional monarch, King Miene IV. It holds a variety of territories across the continent, and is a first-rate naval power. The vast merchant fleet is protected by the Aurean Navy, and in turn the Aurean Navy is funded by the merchant fleet. The Aurean Navy can be found at all corners of the world, vastly spread out and with centuries of maritime tradition behind them.
Ethnicity
The different nation states of the Home Isle are largely the same, yet fiercely independent. Each one speaks an Aurean dialect, but each has a large amount of nationalist pride in their independent nations. Nevertheless, they all share one thing in common; they see themselves as better than the natives of their colonies. The natives vastly outnumber the Home Isle, and are generally more diverse. Hailing from many corners of the world, they are different in every possible way.
Geography
The Home Isles are fairly temperate, with a penchant for dreary weather. They are rich in raw resources, rivers, and arable soil. The colonies are much more diverse, ranging from somewhat tropical to dry. They are also rich in raw resources as well as people, areas conquered by the Empire for their value.
Culture/Society
Aurean people are insular, believing themselves to be the best national identity in the world. Their merchants are shrewd, their tacticians brilliant, their admirals memorable, and their industrialists genius. This gives the relatively small island power in far excess of their mere numbers.
They are overall a nation of small numbers, controlling a colonial empire of untold density in both people and resources. A proud and fiercely independent peoples, they place particular pride in their world-spanning navy. They are innovative, and are often the first to adopt new ideas and machines.
Economy/Industry
The Union mainly imports large amounts of raw materials at protectionist rates from their colonies, leveraging their industrial power and great merchants to retrieve what they cannot import from their colonies from the other nations. From there, as one of the initial adopters of industrial technology, they take these raw resources and pump out manufactured goods. These goods are taken by the merchant fleet and traded across the world for great profit.
Overall, they rely on their colonial empire and the imports thereof to stay alive. This comes with the advantage of allowing them to leverage vast riches. Of particular note is the West Peninsula Company, essentially a megacorporation of national scale.
Military
The Royal Army of the Union is a small but elite and innovative army, clocking in at only a fraction of the other armies across the world. However, the colonial infantry, while less skilled, are of great number. The Royal Army itself makes use of advanced equipment, such as pregreased and preloaded cartridges allowing for a much faster loading time. The colonial infantry, on the other hand, mainly uses simplistic matchlock muskets, prone to misfiring and jamming.
The Royal Navy is the pride of the nation, featuring some of the most advanced cannons in the world, and the largest ships of the line. It is incredibly numerous in sailors and ships, and incredibly skilled in tactics and strategies. It is indeed a force to reckon with. With centuries of tradition behind them, they see no end in sight to the idea that Aurea rules the waves.
The West Peninsula Company maintains a private army, making use of Royal Army equipment due to their connections with the Aurean government. They are also a small force, but could indeed rival a small kingdom.
I can't wait for the 12 foot NGINX PUDDING FORGOTTEN BEAST, with a terrifying 6 pairs of wings, scaly, pudding skin, breath of fire, and toxic water blood.
The Great Artisan, Divine Mason, Builder of Civilisations Level 5 God of Crafting (Masonry, Carpentry, Smithing) 27.5 Might & 2 Free Points
The south pole was draped in endless winter night, but that mattered little to the occupants of the World Mountain. The dwarves’ subterranean lifestyle made the day-night cycle, or lack thereof, of little importance. Only a few brave dwarves were on the surface at this time of year, working to maintain the surface dwellings which were farms during the summer, or operating some of the few workshops which had not yet been migrated underground.
Although there was no sun in the sky, the dwarves had another means for tracking the days. A gong rang out, its metallic call echoing across the slopes of the World Mountain. Many of the dwarves packed up what they were doing and headed towards the great stone doors of the citadel of Dundee. Even those few whose homes were still the hastily erected dirt huts assembled when the dwarves first arrived headed for the earthen halls. The dwarves converged onto the door by torchlight, although rather than the gates opening completely only a small door at the base opened to allow passage in and out.
The inside of the halls had a much more lively atmosphere. Torchlight danced across the walls, casting its warm glow on all within. The stone walls did little to dampen sound, so the halls echoed with the joyous sounds of dwarven life and the distance ringing of pickaxes. With the limited ventilation, the halls were filled with the collective stench of thousands of dwarves and the smoke of forges and torches, mixed with the sweet aroma of alcohol.
The entry corridor was as wide and tall as the grand gates of the citadel, cut into solid stone. After progressing a short distance into the mountain, it opened up into a grand chamber, also cut from the stone of the mountain, with the ceiling supported by stone pillars which had been left behind while hollowing out the chamber. This grand chamber was one of the few large open spaces within the citadel, and as such it was where many dwarves gathered to socialise and for the children to play games, especially while the surface was cold and dark. To cater for all these dwarves, alcohol was available in abundance. From this chamber branched many smaller corridors and passages, most leading to homes, working spaces or mines. This grand chamber was also where the smoke from the many fires in the citadel gathered, accumulating about the roof and drifting out through a few chimneys, and where the refuse of life and detritus of digging was piled up to be taken outside.
Among the piles of stones and rocks left over from tunnelling sat a circle of young dwarves supervised by an older dwarf. These dwarves were chipping away at these rocks with hammer and chisel to create all manner of objects, from bowls and plates to furniture and bricks. Stone was a plentiful resource here, so it was important to be able to work it properly. The older dwarf instructed the younger dwarves in the proper methods of shaping the stone.
At the sound of the gong, many of the dwarves gathered in the main chamber split off to go to their many jobs, filtering out into the passageways. Many of these dwarves passed by small patrols of psykers, who kept watch, maintained order, and kept Lazarus informed. In the grand chamber, some psykers entered the throng of dwarves, finding particular individuals and reminding them politely yet firmly that they had work to do. Maintaining order and ensuring that work was done was one of the chief roles of those dwarves gifted by Lazarus.
One major workplace was the smeltery. Ore collected from the mines was melted down here and converted into metal ingots, which were in turn taken to the blacksmith, or cast into useful parts. Metal and stone were the most abundant materials inside the citadel, with metal being the most useful, so the smeltery was of especial importance. The smelter worked day and night, refining copper to be sent to the casteries.
The castery workshops themselves were relatively small, fit for casting individual items and small wares in bronze. Spears were produced here, as were mugs and armors. This equipment was then distributed through a barter system throughout the citadel. Of course, the psykers and Lazarus herself had final say on where they ended up.
Not that Lazarus ever truly commanded things. That she left to the psykers, as she generally stayed within her own quarters, working on projects unknown. Gold retrieved from small veins or melted out of copper during the crude purification process were generally offered up by the psykers to Lazarus, as well as gemstones.
Of particular note within the citadel were the breweries, given special note purely because of the Dwarves’ fascination with alcohol. Booze flowed freely out of the workshops, supported by a year-round underground mushroom farm. These mushrooms were special in that they could take the place of regular hops for fermentation purposes, meaning that they allowed a constant supply of material to ferment.
The fungal farms had proven to be invaluable to the subterranean dwarves, for the surface was unsuited to farming for most of the year. Only a few luxury crops, such as guarana, had dedicated farms on the surface. But the mushrooms provided more than just food. Fibres were also provided by the fungi, which were treated then woven to produce fabrics and ropes. Looms were used for the purposes of weaving, although a recent innovation had improved the looms considerably, allowing for much faster production of fabric.
Wood was one resource that was rarer than gold in the citadel, for no trees grew underground or this far South on the surface. What little true wood that was present had to be carried down from the north. But recently a new type of mushroom had been discovered and cultivated. Its tissue was much tougher than the other mushrooms, and was almost uncanny in its similarity to wood in its material properties. Such a resource would surely prove to be greatly useful.
Then there were the mines, which branched downwards from the citadel like roots. And that analogy was fairly accurate, for these mines tapped into many of the resources which kept the citadel running. But the stone had to be removed from the mines and the citadel in order to create the tunnels. For a long while, this had been laboriously done by hand, with lines of dwarves carrying out heavy sacks of rubble, often up slopes. But some bright spark had come up with an invention to perform this task. It was a large metal basket on wheels, which could carry much more stone than a single dwarf. To lift this cart up the slopes were ropes and pulleys, allowing the cart to be hauled up from the top of the tunnels. Such an invention would make the process of digging out tunnels, which were getting ever deeper, much easier.
The grand hall had many tunnels and passageways leading from it. Most lead to homes, the private residences of dwarves. One such alcove, however, led to the home of Lazarus herself. The only feature distinguishing this passage from the many others was that it was permanently guarded by psykers. No one was permitted entry without Lazarus’ express permission, on pain of death.
A regular looking dwarf with a thick pocketed apron walked past the alcove, not paying attention to the forbidden doorway and its guards. The dwarf went around a corner into another, adjacent passageway. Then the dwarf turned again and walked straight through the wall, the stone barely registering the being’s passage.
In Lazarus’ domed chamber, a voice announced its arrival, gently reverberating from the walls. “Hello Lazarus.”
Lazarus shifted slightly, before suddenly swiping some unknown arcane contraption off the table. It clattered to the floor noisily, the enchantments all breaking off. After a few moments of silence, she slowly turned. “Another god,” she asked, “what is it you want?”
Teknall, who was in the form of a dwarf, stepped out from the stonework. ”My name is Teknall. I’ve been inspecting this dwarven civilisation. Sorry to surprise you, but your guards wouldn’t let someone walk through the front door.”
“Teknall. I know the name, though I don’t think I’ve met you before. I know the pantheon doesn’t visit me unless they want something. I ask again, what is it you want?” she asked again, leaning against her table. The workshop was surprisingly sparse, little of the offerings made in her honor actually making it into the room. The few that did make it into the room were in various states of enchantment and deconstruction.
“The original reason for my visit was to inspect the dwarves. Civilisation is my concern, so here I came,” Teknall explained, “I can tell the dwarves have an interesting ancestry. They are a modified version of goblins, modified by Vestec, who also created the original goblins. They’ve inherited goblins’ craftsmanship, subterranean lifestyle and stature, although they have greater intelligence and, peculiarly, a dependence upon ethanol. You’ve done a good job setting up this underground city, especially considering the various challenges to building in such a place. While here, I’ve made a few helpful additions which the dwarves should find useful: minecarts, woody mushrooms, some training in stone cutting and smithing, improvements to the loom. They should help the citadel as it grows and becomes more populated.”
Teknall walked forwards a few paces, stooped down and picked up the broken device from the floor. He turned it over once in his hands, a frown flickering across his face for the briefest moment as he inspected the damage, before setting the device back down on the table.
“Originally, I would have visited you anyway, for no purpose other than to formalise my visit to the dwarves. But I’ve seen some of the work you do. You are an artificer and experimenter in the ways of the divine. There are these contraptions. In wandering these halls, I found the trails of no less than two demigods stemming from your own. And there is that box of secrets you have, which is so well designed that even I can’t peer into it.
“Recently I have… acquired the need to be more discrete, in terms of the divine trail I leave behind. I have made efforts myself, but I fear that they may not be enough. I was wondering whether you would be able to help.”
Lazarus continued to lean against her table, eventually responding to the request with, “I know exactly how to reduce your trail, but I have things of my own I need worry about, that you could provide in return. Tell me, how much do you know of our universe? Not its physical properties, but its divine properties.”
“The divine properties of the universe?” Teknall confirmed. “Got to make things tricky, don’t you? I know the physical properties in intimate detail, but the divine, the metaphysical, my knowledge is not as extensive. Although, depending on exactly what you want to know, I may still be able to help.”
“I don’t want to know anything. However, I do need two simple things -- two samples of your essence. Anything will do, really, a sample of skin, some blood, whatever holds your divine properties. Once I have that, I can both give you a machine to help you hide and advise you in its use.”
Teknall considered the offer for a moment, then replied, “Sounds like a fair trade. I warn you, though, raw divine essence is a fickle and unstable thing. You’ll need something to contain and isolate it, and I don’t recommend leaving it unsupervised for any length of time. Understood?”
“I know full well how divine powers work. First, the essence, then I will tell you where to find the machine. After you bring it back, I will instruct you in its use. Sound fair?” Lazarus responded, straightening herself as she stopped leaning on the table.
“Fair,” Teknall nodded. From his apron pocket he withdrew a hypodermic syringe, gently slid it into his skin, and extracted a small quantity of glowing golden ichor. He withdrew the needle, took the needle off the syringe, sealed it, then carefully handed the glowing glass vial to Lazarus. “Will this be adequate?”
Lazarus nodded, gripping the vial. She then spoke, “Now, on one of the moons, you will find a machine. It should be easy to find -- I’ll enable the beacon. It’s simple, really, just follow the source of divine energy. Bring it back here, and I will tell you what to do with it.”
”Alright.” Teknall vanished without a trace. Half a minute later he returned, reappearing in the same spot he had disappeared from earlier, this time holding the machine in his hands. It was a simple wooden contraption, covered in magical runes. Embedded in the middle was a simple gem, light gleaming sharply from it. “I’ve got the machine you spoke of,” Teknall said.
Lazarus then held out her free hand. “Take out the gem and give it to me so I can get a reading from it. Then, you may take the gem. Let its power flow throughout you, and try to copy it when you are attempting to hide. The closer you get to a perfect replica, the more invisible you will be. That is the baseline of divine power, and it represents a lack of divine presence.”
Teknall easily extracted the gem and handed it to Lazarus. “A divine essence detector. Nice,” Teknall commented. “Although the location was hardly perfect. It will be a good baseline, but I noticed Vestec’s trail nearby. And it is still within view of the most divinely populated body in the Universe. The best place to have put it would have been deep space, given a good throw from where it was dumped. If a non-divine agent could do it, even better.”
“It measured the ambient active energy, not what Vestec left behind. Nevertheless, you are probably right about being so close to such a divinely populated area. The results shouldn’t be that far off. I doubt any god could perfectly replicate the baseline anyways, so it isn’t as though it should matter much.” Lazarus responded, before silencing to chant a few magical words, incorporeal waves of power transcribing themselves off of the gems. She then handed it back.
Teknall held the gem up to the light, inspecting it and the pattern of light reflecting off it. Then he closed his fist tightly around it. “Thank you. This should help. May I enquire as to what you intend to do with my essence?”
“Well, one sample I will use in the second version of my machine. The rest, I will be using for other purposes,” Lazarus responded, holding the vial tight.
“Alright,” Teknall said. He then turned to depart. “I shall leave you to your projects, then.”
Lazarus did not stop him as he disappeared through the stonework. She waited a while, and when she figured he was gone, she unscrewed the vial, carefully pouring half of the sample into a second, bronze vial from one of her many projects. Then, she capped the old vial again, took the new vial, and downed the contents.
(hahaha get it got milk) Some details on the dwarves. Mostly culture stuff. They’re working with bronze and invented minecarts and stuff, and discovered a woody mushroom.
Teknall visits Lazarus.
They soon make a trade for divine essence. Lazarus teaches Teknall how to better conceal himself in exchange for godly blood.
The machine on the moon is now with Teknall, after Lazarus got a reading off of it.
It blasted a bunch of raw divine power so it could be located, fyi.
Teknall took the gem, and Lazarus split the divine essence to drink some.
She downs half that shit. (BB- I forgot demigods would do that until too late. My bad)
Lazarus Start: 9 MP Spent: 1 MP to increase Teknall’s Concealment level (by 1, presumably, to a total of 8). End: 8 MP
Teknall Start: 27.5 MP and 2 FP (13 MP reserved by Workshop) Spent: 1 MP to give Lazarus some divine essence. 1 FP to create woody mushrooms. Other things given to the dwarves are free under Teknall’s Domain and Portfolios. End: 26.5 MP and 1 FP (13 MP reserved by Workshop)
An airy electronic beat filled the smoky, hazy room of the bar. The TV flickered quietly on the far wall, set to a news channel. An eco-terrorist attack had recently been unleashed, a series of dirty bombs across New Helena. The local police department had kicked into full gear, with private security firms looking to preserve their employer’s investments. Vehicles drove to and fro. The public transit line was completely shut down.
Different, smaller news pieces drifted lazily across the dim, dirty screen. A raid on an ancient set of ruins yielded new technology for Transen Corporation. The military was performing exercises in the traditionally rebellious region of Ampshure. A private security firm gunned down ten. A prominent theocrat had been assassinated. It painted a gruesome picture of strife and conflict.
A cigarette was crushed into a grimy ashtray. The brief flick of a lighter, and the light warmth and security of a small flame. A circle of men sat at one of the corner tables of the bar, every so often glancing up to the news. They spoke in hushed tones, of politics and recent events. These weren’t the average patrons.
One was New Helena’s G6E inspector, the most prominent anti-terrorist division in the police department’s arsenal. The next was a prominent congressman of the fascist lean. Finally, the last was a CEO of an arms corporation, the largest in the region. They controlled the flow of weapons in and out of New Helena.
A singular beep. The green glow of a holographic display. The inspector got to his feet, shrugging on his trenchcoat. Saying his goodbyes to his benefactors, he made his exit. His division had been called to handle the attack. The remnants of his position lingered, the smoke trail slowly drifting upwards in a lazy arc.
The other two continued their smoke. They spoke very little amongst themselves. Mainly they shared looks, sending orders and messages across their respective empires from the safety of the bar and their holowatches.