>>31285376
>>Fan out and take cover until the rest of the Army arrives

>Fan out and take cover until the rest of the Army arrives.

i.e. follow orders.

Also, don't attract attention when you're lightly armed and in enemy territory.

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>>31285376
>>Go looking for the bandits
What's the worst that could happen?

>>31285376

>Fan out, Take Cover

We're a skirmisher team, we should get into skirmish formation, no?

>>31285376
>>Writein
Take it up the boipussy I guess because that is the girliest man I have ever seen outside of legit traps. Even his name is girlish.

>>31285376
>>Fan out and take cover until the rest of the Army arrives.
There will be plenty of time to die on the swords of bandits later.

“We have no idea where the enemy is, but we do know where Major Godet wanted us posted,” you say, tapping your finger on the haft of the spear. “If the bandits got spooked off by the size of the convoy, or worse, have a mole in the Auxiliaries, they may try to ambush the convoy instead of just parking themselves in the way and demanding a toll. Fan out and hide in the underbrush. Load flat slugs, save the alchemic rounds for confirmed Mages.”
“Aye, ma'am,” the squad murmurs as one. Even Alrox. He’s not so much ‘a poor soldier’ as a ‘poor ambusher.’ And to be far to the kid, your unit isn’t specialized for either woodlands combat or tracking. Normally, the King would have sent a Shadow unit or a pathfinding team. Naturally, your battalion being available meant you got sent instead. Everybody has to make do with what they have in times like these.

Dervich pumps a fist and the squad spread out on the west side of the long, wide eastern road to the sea. You’re nowhere near the port yet, but that’s why the bandits have been so successful. The road was, until recently, patrolled daily; it was only after the border skirmishes to the south began that the garrison here was remobilized. The bandits just moved in and set up shop, and now merchants that had never had to hire escorts in their careers were getting robbed blind.

You sink into the undergrowth and set your ammo pouch on the ground beside you. Smearing a handful of mud over the yellow chevrons on your rank pauldron, you set your eyes to the search.

(con’t)

In under an hour, the falling sun is throwing long shadows across the road. The abundant maple trees around the roads grow tall here, tall enough to make you feel an atavistic comfort. You are a wilderness elf, after all, created by the long-dead Pantheon to live in forests like this. The Collapse and subsequent bombings brought all isolationist thoughts to a halt, of course.

Your eye catches a glint of metal from down the road. The first line of Auxiliaries are approaching. Their metal armor isn’t painted, like yours. They’re bright silver, polished to a shine, decorated with the distinct vertical grille pattern of the Cender Royal Army. The Auxilia are only issued greaves and chest plates, with Sergeants and higher – like yourself – also given armored pauldrons with rank insignia etched on.

This column is advancing straight up the road. The first rank is scanning for any sign of you or their targets on the roadsides, and to your distinct satisfaction, apparently not seeing anything. Your squad hid well.

>Wat do

>>31285873
>Hold position and ready for bandit ambush.
I don't trust these shiny armor guys for a second. They're probably bandits in disguise. The second they show their true nature, we must be ready.

>>31285873
Stay hidden, wait for the obvious ambush, then COUNTER-AMBUSH THEM!
If nothing happens, say hello to the second line.

>>31285873

Double check there's no one else in the area, then report. Ambushing our own guys is rude.

>>31285873
So are we aligned with, or against Cender? Aren't bandits unaffiliated?

>>31285972
>You are a Sergeant in Skirmisher Team 4 in the King’s Auxiliary Army.
Try actually reading the posts next time.

>>31286007
and is he the king of Cender?

Cender is the name of your country. Clen is the name of your hometown. The bandits are (as far as anyone can tell) just a pack of lucky criminals. You're assigned to an auxiliary army under the Royal Legion (knighted classes and nobles, along with career, professional warriors). Auxiliaries like you are tasked to a single Army brigade for ten years in exchange for gold. Legionaries serve for life. There's also the Guard, who serve a single city and are solely for defense and policing, but you haven't encountered any yet in this quest.

>>31286044
Really. You're really asking this. You're actually asking if the Auxiliary Army that is currently approaching our position AS PREVIOUSLY ORGANISED is the same Auxiliary Army that we are a part of.

>>31286074
Hold position then. No reason to reveal ourselves.

The first line passes without incident. You can see Dervich’s quizzical look from several dozen feet to your left, but you don’t do anything yet. It’s only after the second rank, twenty feet behind the first, approaches, that you cup your hand to your mouth and whistle.

The front ranks halt at once, and your squad rises to their feet with their spears over their heads. One of the armored troops taps his fingers to his brow when he sees you. “Sergeant Ledren!” he calls.

Oh, good, it’s Lieutenant Ekrine. Of course. He was assigned to your platoon, you assume, because someone hates you. In fairness, he may have some qualification beyond being the city governor’s grandson, but you haven’t seen it yet.

You push such thoughts aside and jog down to meet him. “Lieutenant, sir! Squad Four reporting no contact!” you sharply report.
“What, none?” Ekrine echoes. “Are we near the battle site?”
“We are, sir,” you confirm. You gesture down the road. “The burned wagons were dumped there after the merchants were killed for refusing to pay the toll. Indeed, you can just see the first scraps of charcoal on the smooth, Dwarven stone road near the next bend. "The bandits hit here.”
“So where are they?” Ekrine muses. You stiffen at the insultingly stupid question, but he’s clearly just pondering it and not making a jab at your powers of observation. He thinks a few more seconds, then slaps his hand into his palm. “Alright. Take five men and head into the woods on the western side of the road. Push ahead another half a mile and look for any sign of tracks in the woods. They have to have gone somewhere after looting those wagons.”
(con’t)

“While Corporal Dervich takes the others into the eastern brush, sir?” you inquire. This stretch of ancient Dwarven highway runs roughly southeast to northwest, and the trees on both sides reduce visibility beyond the ditch to basically nothing.
“No. Dervich stays with me. I’ll be sending Third squad into the east,” Ekrine says.
You blink at the unusual division of assets. Normal protocol would be to either send the whole squad, or split into half-squads with the Non-commissioned officers each taking half.

>”Yes, sir.”
>”May I inquire as to how five men and women with no tracking training are to pursue an unknown number of criminals through a forest at night, sir?”
>”With all due respect, my squad fights well in full strength.”
>”Can you lend me a Mage or a Gifted soldier, sir? It’s getting dark.”
>Writein

>>31286318
>>”Can you lend me a Mage or a Gifted soldier, sir? It’s getting dark.”

We can track well enough, being all elfy. But he's sending HALF a squad one way, and a WHOLE squad the other. We're in the half, so I'd like some magebooms with us.

>>31286318
>”Can you lend me a Mage or a Gifted soldier, sir? It’s getting dark.”
Avoiding insubordination is just as important as avoiding getting stabbed.

>>31286318
>>”With all due respect, my squad fights well in full strength.”
Really put emphasis on "all due" make it clear that you don't think any respect is due.

By the by.

Gifts are unknown powers. They aren’t magic, and anyone with magical skill can sense someone with a Gift nearby, making them lousy spies. They tend to be fairly useless but intuitive abilities, like being able to read books through the cover, passing your hands through flames without pain, seeing through your eyelids, being able to understand baby talk, and so forth. Some are very useful, like being able to walk on water and through walls. They seem to be hereditary to some extent, and nobody has ever had more than two. Nobody alive knows what they are or where they come from, not even the last three living members of the Divine Pantheon.

Magic is magic. It's non-hereditary, you either have it or you don't - from puberty until death - and it's measured on a logarithmic scale, with 1 being un-noticeably insignificant, 5 being around average, and 8+ being amazing. People with powers above 9 are vanishingly rare.

>>31286413
Are you guys sure you want to ask for a gifted? Seems like a good way to be fire balled by an enemy we haven't spotted yet.

>>31286318
>>31286413

>>”Can you lend me a Mage, sir? It’s getting dark.”
Just a mage, then. Unless we can diguise a gifted as a merchant and use him as bait.

>>31286481
Figuring out a bunch of random thieves have a mage capable of fireballing shit is valuable intel. If that happens, we fucking run back to base shouting MAGE MAGE THEY HAVE A FUCKING MAGE.

>>31286413

>Anyone with magical skill can sense someone with a Gift nearby...

Well fuck. If the bandits have so much as a hedge witch, that'd be bad. On the other hand, why in the god's green earth would he send us out with half strength west, and send twice that east? Did east murder his puppy?

Did we murder his puppy?

>>31286540
Sorry if it's unclear. Ekrine brought several skirmish squads with him. He's keeping thirty men with him, sending five east, and sending you and four others west to look for tracks from the bandits dragging their loot bags. The other seven hundred spear, sword, bow, alchemic, and mage troops are about five minutes behind him on the road. He's the advance platoon commander for this brigade.

>>31286540
Because he's fulfilling the role of obstructive superior officer who is incapable of intelligent decisions.

>>31286534

Remember, GEEK THE MAGE FIRST

>>31286579

Oh. Well, that actually makes sense then. I'd still like someone with nightvision or something.

Though... elf. How elfy of an elf are we?

>>31286627

Elves in this setting started out as pretty far from the human baseline now, as did humans in the beginning, but forced co-existence has made them pretty equivalent in terms of abilities over the millennia. You have a strong advantage over humans, and even other species of elves, in forests, in terms of staying quiet and so forth, but surprise and training can overcome that pretty fast if you get caught with your pants down.

After this first thread, I'll post a breakdown of the setting in greater detail.

“Can you lend me a Mage, sir? It’s getting dark,” you ask politely.
Ekrine nods. “If you think you’ll need one, very well. He turns to face the rank behind him and waves his left hand over his head in a tight circle. In moments, the third line has caught up to you, and one of the soldiers there snaps off a salute.
“Lieutenant!”
“Corporal. Are there any men in the platoon with night combat experience and magic?” Ekrine asks.
You try not to groan. He’s trying so hard to be useful, you can’t help but pity his inexperience.
The Corporal pants, steam wafting from his mouth. “Two. Do you need one, sir?”
“Night tracking,” Ekrine says.
“Aye, sir.” The corporal cups his hands around his mouth. “Sedri! Alen! Front and center!”

Two members of the sixth line, nearly five minutes back at a slow march, double-time up to you. As they approach, you spot the tell-tale signs of a Royal War Mages’ College shawl across their shoulders. They’re not wearing their usual cloaks of office, obviously, but the camouflaged leather they’re wearing instead somehow doesn’t match the majesty of their usual accoutrements.
As they finally arrive, they both skid to a halt. “Lieutenant?” one pants. “Is something wrong?”
“I need you to go with Sergeant Ledren into the woods and see if you can’t find a trace of our bandit quarries,” Ekrine says, jerking a thumb at you. “Alen, you’re with Third Squad. Sedri, you’re with Ledren’s Fourth.”
Sedri, a somewhat stocky young dark elf male, looks askance at the Lieutenant. Sedri, a human woman with greying temples, huffs a sigh. “And you decided to have your man bellow out our names in the hopes of allowing the bandits a fair chance at evading us if they have a Mage in their number too?”
Ekrine scoffs. “And what are the chances of that?”

(con’t)

“Fairly high,” Sedri shoots right back. Still, openly disobeying a platoon commander is something she’s allowed to do, if perhaps not encouraged. “Maybe they’re not on the run, yet.” She turns to you. “Ledren, yes? Where was the attack site?”
“Up the road,” you say, pointing again.
Sedri nods and slips on her gloves. “Fine. We’ll start there.” She reaches over and squeezes her partner’s shoulder. “Stay safe, Apprentice,” she tells Alen. The elf nods once and takes off for the attack site. She turns back to you and hefts a glass phial from her belt. “Right. Off we go.”

You pass your own men on the way to the attack site as Ekrine brings the column to a halt behind you. “Arven, Alrox, Connor, Squishy, you’re on me. The rest, on Dervich. Corporal, guard the Lieutenant,” you say, rattling off the names of the nearest four troops.
Sedri’s eyebrows rise. “Squishy?”
“Shut up,” the rail-thin trooper mutters. The rest of the squad snicker.


>Follow Mage to attack site, stay quiet
>Lead the way, explaining what happened here
>Yield command to the Mage
>Writein

>>31286978
>Ekrine scoffs. “And what are the chances of that?”
DUN
DUN
DUUUUUN

>>31287010
>Lead the way, explaining what happened here
Maybe grumble about incompetent leadership for camaraderie or something.

>>31287010
>>Lead the way, explaining what happened here
The last thing we need is some over educated pin head leading us into an ambush.

The six of you head off towards the attack site as Dervich pulls the rest of the squad back towards your commander. Sedri walks beside you, glancing around her as she does. “Hmph. Bandits, my ass.”
You look over at her. “Ma’am?”
“The size of this force…eight hundred soldiers and Mages for a pack of common criminals?” Sedri scoffs. She slips the glass phial between her fingers as you walk. “I don’t buy that. His Majesty is either overreacting or scared.”
“Or preparing our force to mobilize to the border once we clean up this mess,” you supply. “We may be going to reinforce the garrisons to the south.”
Sedri blinks. “That…” she sighs as that idea resolves. “Of course. Forgive me, Sergeant, I was just feeling a bit stubborn.”
You wave it off. “Forget it. Greenhorn Lieutenants do that. Know he’s the Governor’s grandson?”
“Who doesn’t?” Sedri snorts. “Still, he’s just young. He hasn’t done anything stupid yet, just naïve.”
The smoldering ruin of several carts and wagons greet you as you round the corner. Alen and his skirmish team are already pawing at the rubble. Sedri flips the phial in the air and catches it as she sees the damage. “Alen! Did you scatter a detector yet?” she calls, referring to the complex alchemic powder used to detect magic.
Alen straightens up. His cropped grey hair and deep yellow eyes are so stereotypically Dark elf, he could pass for a textbook sketch in a beginner’s art class. “Yes, ma’am, but I needn’t have bothered. The damage was caused by fire arrows and an alchemic grenade.”

(con’t)

Sedri’s eyes narrow. “No magic?”
“None!” Alen confirms as your team arrives.
“That’s a lot of damage for arrows,” Sedri insists.
Alen shuffles his feet a bit, raising a cloud of ash. “I agree, but there’s no magic here. Scatter your own detector if you don’t believe me.”
“I do believe you,” Sedri replies. The smelly, yellowish, salt-like powder is sitting, inert, on the ground. “Where were the shooters?”
“In the treeline, from the look of it,” one of the other skirmishers says. He points at an arrow half-stuck in a tree on the roadside. “The convoy Escorts got a shot off. That arrow’s only been there a day or so.”
“If our convoy hadn’t been en route to this area anyway, nobody would know how long ago this had happened,” Alen says. “How did we find out?”
You wince as the memory comes back. “My squad saw a merchant running for his life this way,” you report. The poor fuck had soiled himself and ran at the first sight of danger. “Ekrine pulled his platoon ahead, hoping we could get there in time.”
“Great.” Sedri sighs. “Fine. Alen, send a man back to report your findings. Ledren, you’re the boss. My skills are at your disposal.”
“Those being?” you ask.
“Ah. Well, I have the full basic range of skills you’d expect from a war Mage…Ice Shards, Healer’s Touch, Starlight Flare, but my specialty is Earth Magic. Predicting groundquakes, raising rock shields, that sort of thing,” Sedri supplies.
“So…no tracking ability?” you ask, disappointed.
“No more or less than anyone else in the brigade.”

Great.

>Wat do

>>31287536
>Search for tracks in the treeline where we think the archers shot from. If it's only been a day there still may be some trace of them.

>>31287536
>>Wat do
Make do with mundane tracking if we're capable of it. Mages can bring the rain if we run into some shit.

>>31287536

>Search for tracks.

Have the Mage keep a Flare ready and primed, both to signal for help in case of trouble, and possibly to blind enemies. HOWEVER, she's got to give us a warning in the event she's going to pop one off. Make sure all the soldiers know to cover their eyes.

Should give us a few moments to scatter/vanish while our enemies are blinded.

>>31287878
>Have the Mage keep a Flare ready and primed
Are you sure that's wise? This guy isn't exactly a hardened soldier. If he gets jumpy he could easily give away our position.

>>31287940
Sedri's a woman.
“Squad, hit the treeline,” you snap, and your troops fall into it. The four skirmishers you brought with you leap the ditch and start into the woods, but don’t go out of sight of the road. You head off after them, with Sedri close behind, and are instantly enclosed by the green boughs of late summer trees.
“Got a lot of arrows in the ground back here,” you hear one of your troops – Connor, your go-to man for long-range alchemic attacks – report. “At least ten.”
Sedri nods. “I see, the guards weren’t caught completely off-guard.”
You can hear the skirmishers on the other side of the road calling out their own reports. “Looks like sling bullets on the ground over here!” one cries.
“Glass shards! Someone tossed a grenade!” another shouts.
Something about that tickles the back of your mind. Why were the Escorts apparently able to fire on attackers on both sides of the road, yet unable to actually hit anything? “Any sign of bodies?” you ask, voice raised.
A chorus of negative replies fills the air. The sense of unease deepens. Alrox pipes up. “Ma’am, I have blood. A few drops, but it’s blood. And a copper coin, Clen mint. Scrap of leather…think someone got hit in the pocket.”
“Did any of the bodies of the convoy members have personal belongings on them?” you ask the air.
One of your men – women, actually, Arven, a wilderness Elf like you – appears beside you. “Nope. Stripped and burned.”
“Tracks here,” Alrox suddenly calls. “Four or five. Hard to see, though, the leaves are thick.”

(con’t)

Sedri hurries over to Alrox’s position and looks carefully at the ground. “Yes, at least that many. They were heading into the forest, due west. Can’t tell exact numbers, though…”
Her voice trails off. After a moment, she sticks her gloved fingers into the dirt and sends a tiny jolt of energy into the loam. Nothing happens. “Still no sign of magic use…they’re making no effort to hide their numbers.” She straightens up. “Sergeant, I recommend we go get Alen’s team and have them reinforce us.”

>We don’t need them if we’re not going to fight.
>Having more men makes us easier to see coming.
>I agree (go and get them).
>Writein

>>31288168
>We don’t need them if we’re not going to fight.
>Having more men makes us easier to see coming.
We're supposed to find them, then report back, not engage them.

>>31288216
Seconded. What's the worst that can happen?

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>>31288285

>>31288168

>>I agree (go and get them).

go and get them

go and get them

For the love of god backup.

>>31288168
>>31288216
>>31288285

Agreed, we are skirmisher unit on recon mission, our job is to find the enemy.

>Write In
>But, I say we sit tight and observe the enemy so we can get more information then report back ourselves or with a runner as we continue observation.

>>31288476

Fair enough, let's recon. Use mages to signal we've found stuff when necessary. Also, we have mages. By which I mean magical artillery. Self propelled death on two legs.

Let's use it.

>>31288476
Should follow standard protocol when reporting a soft contact with potential EI, follow SALUTE.

Size
Activity
Location
Uniform
Time
Equipment

You consider that. “Not if we want to remain silent,” you decide. “We’re skirmishers, not scouts. We’ll just note their location and fall back for reinforcements.”
The greying mage sighs. “Are you certain?”
“Completely,” you firmly reply. You whistle again, and your squad materializes from the surrounding woods. “All right, kids, pack your shit and grab your kit, we’re following the tracks!”
“Yes, ma’am,” the rest chorus. Alrox hefts his spear and takes the rearguard, while you and Connor move up on point, in a pattern you’ve drilled so many times, it’s almost instinct. The comforting embrace of the trees above and around you thins, dramatically in fact, as you advance west, away from the roads. The woods are old here, with massive trees that have lasted centuries in the fierce storms coming from the Shrine Islands. There’s more room between the trunks than there is between the younger trees around the roads.
Lots of room, in fact. You beckon Sedri closer as you follow the trail, which is growing clearer by the minute. “Can you send up a signal bright enough for the rest of the Army to see us?” you ask softly.
She nods. “Easily. The problem is that it takes a second to charge it up; it’s a complex spell, just not very draining.”
“If they have mages, can you tell at range?” you whisper. You don’t fight with mages much.
“No. Not unless they’re actively using visible magic,” she whispers back.


(con't)

Connor holds up his fist. The arrowhead formation freezes. He raises his hand in a blade, and you all slip bullets into your hands and ready your slings.
Time passes. The faint sounds of leaves and birds overhead are all you can hear. At length, Connor clenches his fist again, and you all relax a bit. He lowers his hand a moment later. “Thought I saw metal,” he murmurs. “Ahead and to the left.”
“What are your brigade’s hand signals?” Sedri asks quietly.
You raise your own hand to demonstrate. “Fist means ‘stop,’ blade means ‘get ready,’ fanned fingers means ‘imminent combat,’” you supply. Your own camouflaged gloves have no dye left at the joints, you’ve been using them so long, in stark contrast to Sedri’s, which are barely held together with stitching. She’s probably had them for years. “Connor, where is it?”
The human soldier points. “There. Over the hillock.”
“Fan out and advance,” you whisper, following his arm with your own gesture.

>I’ll go take point alone.
>Someone (who?) come with me.
>All six advance.

>>31288696
Who else knows the hand signals besides us?

>>31288696
>I’ll go take point alone.

>>31288696
>>All six advance.
Let's keep as many human (or elven) shields between us and the enemy as possible.

>>31288736
Everyone in your Brigade. The Mages are attached by Royal order, they're not permanent.

>>31288696
>>31288792
Ok then.

>I'll go take point alone.

Again a recon mission, the less people out there making noise and moving around the better.

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Here, have a shitty sketch of the planet.

>>31288883
>diameter: 8746 knots
>knots
That's, uh, a unit of speed, mate.

>>31288883
Cute drawing.

>>31288948
Like I said, shitty. I meant nautical miles.

>>31288992
Okay.
Your planet's diameter is slightly more than a quarter larger than Earth's. You might want to trim that down a bit, especially with a single continent.

“Sit tight, people,” you murmur. The squad immediately takes cover behind trees, with Connor restraining Sedri from following you with a glance.
You cinch your bandana around your head and creep forward, walking on the blades of your feet so your center of balance doesn’t move too much. You may not be a Shadow, but you know how to not raise a ruckus. The leaves and needles underfoot give way to moss and bare dirt as you slowly approach a low hillock along Connor’s line of sight. You can’t hear anything unusual, or see metal, but the tracks do seem to be leading this way…
Just out of sight of the hill’s top, barely five feet above your elevation and rolling down into a depression beyond. You crouch low and secure your spear so it doesn’t bump against the ground, barely moving now. As you reach the base of the hill, you drop prone and inch your way up the soft moss.
At last, you reach the top. You peek over, lacking a mirror or periscope.

(con’t)

>>31289154
Nah, it's OK. It's a super continent, like Pangaea

>>31289154
Mild spoilers.
It's unrealistically huge and amalgamated into a single continent for a reason. The whole planet is a mess, having been built by the original Pantheon for unknown reasons and inhabited by the sentient races only because a series of barely-comprehensible alchemic weather machines are keeping it operational. The Pantheon that still exists is keeping it operational by the skins of their teeth. Otherwise, the world would be wracked with hypercanes and chaotic earthquakes at all times.

>>31289224
Okey doke.

The sight baffles you. There are people down there, yes, but nowhere near as many as you’d have guessed from the battle site. There’s eleven people down there, and they’re partially unarmed. At least, some are not visibly armed, that doesn’t mean much if they’re mages.
Six of them are dressed like mercenaries with a lower-case m, not the uniformed and regimented members of the Mercenaries’ Guild. They’re armed with glittering, enchanted falchions, and decked out in immaculate armor you don’t recognize. Two more people, dressed like common thugs and without weapons, are standing next to them, their eyes darting around like they’ve never seen a forest before. The last three are cut from yet another cloth. Two are dressed like nobles, with fancy clothes and enchanted jewelry. The last one is older than anyone you’ve ever seen alive, so much so he looks barely mobile, and dressed like a Master-level employee of the Explorer’s Guild.
They sure don’t look like people who blackmail Merchants’ Guild convoys for fun.

>Listen in
>Get closer
>Try to talk to them
>CHARGE
>Creep back to squad and ask Sedri for input

>>31289315
>Creep back to squad and ask Sedri for input
Old guy's obviously a mage.

>>31289315
>>Listen in
>>Get closer
If the brigands are being hired by corrupt noblemen or merchants, that's big news. Better not alert them to our presence. Worst comes to worst we can die loudly and our squad will bring news to command.

>>31289315
>Listen in
Need more information before we can plan.

Size: About 11, maybe more
Activity: Unknown, waiting for someone? resting?
Location: Innawoods battle-site, maybe a staging area
Uniform: Few mercenary looking types, thugs, noble looking guys, and an old man, mage?
Time: It's night time, they are probably on alert
Equipment: some magically enchanted items

Most logical course of action, since it is night and they look ready to stay and camp, and the old man maybe a mage, we should go back and report our main force, and regroup for a combined assault or ask for more men for a night raid.

The prudent course of action when confronted by so many unknowns: pay very close attention. The group down below aren’t paying attention to you specifically, and don’t seem to know they’re being watched. You narrow your eyes against the shimmer of the setting sun on the leaves all around you and listen.

The ancient guy is yelling. “You robbed the merchants? The actual Merchants’ Guild?” he demands, in a raspy voice that sounds like sandpaper on glass.
“In the time we were given, what choice did we have?” one of the nobles demands.
“You were given all the time a man of your needs should require!” the old man shouts. He’s a light Elf, by his look, as is one of the nobles, while the other noble is a human. The guards are a mix. “The chest was brought here at some great cost to my organization, gentlemen, it was not easy to conceal! Do you think King Maas will just sit by and let his allies in the Guild get robbed?”
“What difference does it make now?” the second noble scoffs. “We have the money and you have your artifact. Shall we get this over and done with? Or do you feel the need to scream some more?”
The old man stiffens. “Watch your tone, young man. It took me thirty eight years to drag that box out here, I’ll not have that investment dismissed.”
“Perhaps the investment wouldn’t be so easy to dismiss if you had been more willing to test the product before selling it to us!” the second noble retorts.

(con’t)

>>31289802
>light Elf
light as in color, weight or laser?
I'm imagining high elf stereotypes.

>>31289865
>LASER ELF
hahaha what

>>31289865
Fuckin' Thalmor whores.

>>31289865
Light as in pale, blonde, and with a strong affinity for open fields, as opposed to the caves and cities of the dark elves and forests of the wilderness elves and glacier fields of the humans.

The old man waves off that statement. “If it’s a test you want, it’s a test you’ll get. Did you take any prisoners from the convoys you so ill-advisedly robbed?”
One of the mercenaries speaks up. “Of course not.”
The old man sighs. “Of course.” He looks over at the two thugs and eyes them both up, causing both of them to pale a few shades, before shaking his head. “Bah. We’ll have to find some other target.”

You burn the conversation and its participants into your head memory as you listen. The attacks on the convoys were just a means to make money, then? Interesting.

“Does the Explorers’ Guild know what you found?” the first noble asks.
“I don’t think anybody outside of our expedition knows what we found,” the old man replies. So he IS a member of the Guild. “The guide may have figured it out, but he was some illiterate barbarian of no real importance. Certainly, there was nothing left in that box except scraps when we were done transferring its contents to our own wagons.”
“Hard to believe anything could survive an entire flying city falling on it,” the noble remarks.
“The Harpies built their laboratories to last,” the old man says. “Enough. Do you have the money?”

As soon as you see what the old man pulls out of his pocket as he says that, the conversation makes a lot more sense. The object in his hand is wrapped in oilskin, and as he pulls it away, the light falling across his hands seems to warp and twist.
Not unlike your stomach. There’s something deeply unnerving about that thing, and you’re not the only one who thinks so. It’s affecting the mercs, too. You still can’t tell what it is, though.

>Wat do?

>>31289945
Have the slingers take out anyone that looks important, send in some guys to deal with the hired muscle.

>>31289945
>Continue to stay hidden, silent and observe

>>31289945
Well this isn't at all what we were expecting. Make sure to memorise any identifying marks, then wait for them to split up, and follow whoever has the item.

>>31289983
Seconded. I want to see what this thing does.

>>31289975
No, bad idea. A few are heavily armored so our slings won't do shit. Most have magically enchanted weapons so we are also outgunned, as well as outnumbered.

Plus now, we know the old man is magical, and that nobles are involved, if we can memorize what they look like then maybe someone can identify them later on.

Again we our skirmishers on a recon mission not properly equipped for a full on engagement.

You lie stock still, trying very hard not to breathe very much. The item bends light away from itself in a way that would hurt to put into words, and the mercs especially are looking a bit queasy. The old man and the thugs, oddly, look almost unaffected, and the nobles are spellbound.
“Hard to believe…anything could survive an entire flying city falling…” the first one repeats, staring at the…thing. His voice is so quiet he almost can’t be heard this far away. “It’s…hideous.”
“It’s a weapon, it’s not supposed to be pretty,” the old man says. “Is seeing believing?” He hesitates, cocks an eyebrow, and answers his own question. “You want a demonstration.”
“It would help, but…perhaps I can take you at your word,” the second noble admits. “There isn’t anything left in the world but the old Harpy weapons that can bend reality like that.”
“Don’t use it,” the first one urges. “Too many people know what that thing can do. If someone who knows what that thing is actually dies, the Pantheon will find out what it is when they absorb the person’s soul. We’d be dead in seconds.”
“Mm. Perhaps.” The old man slips it back into his pocket. Both nobles start back a pace.
They both bristle and frown. “What are you doing, Novai?” one demands.
“You wanted a demonstration, right?” the old man chuckles.
Snap. A twig breaks a few feet away from you. Directly between you and the old man. There is nothing visible there to break it.

Oh FUCK.

>PANIC
>Fall back
>CHARGE
>Scream for backup
>/wrists
>writein

>>31290468
>>CHARGE
Hit the guy with the artifact first.

>>31290468
>Stay calm, and quietly fall back
>Signal with our hands for some back up

>>31290468
>Fall back

>>31290468
>scream for backup
>CHARGE

>>31290538
Seconded. Let's not charge the guy with a super weapon.

>>31290538
>>31290658
>>31290541
If this guys does have a super weapon, we are the only one right now who knows it. We have to get out of there and tell the rest of the Brigade or others.

>>31290513
>>31290603
Charging will not only get us killed, but alert the enemy of the rest of our Brigade, eliminating the element of surprise, endanger the rest of our fellow troops and allow them to escape with their super weapon.

>>31290783
Not if we kill one of the guys that knows what the thing is. Divine backup, baby.

Writing. No real consensus, so I'll blend them as best I can.

>>31290894
We could send 1 guy to go call for back up while the rest of us try to buy time for that person. Just try not to die.

You keep your head as best you can, as hard as that is with an invisible man running at you. You gather your hands and legs under you and launch backwards as far as you can, landing hard several feet below. Your squad sees the trouble you’re in and arms up, slipping lead bullets into their slings. Sedri claps her hands together and arcs a jolt of lightning between them, clearly preparing for battle.
“Switch alchemic, they have enchanted weapons!” you shout, and your squad’s hands dip into their ammo pouches to withdraw the delicate and expensive alchemic bombs they can throw instead of lead bullets or stone slugs. Screaming, of course, gave away the presence of other people with you, but the old man either saw you or sensed you, and now’s not the time for subtlety. “The target is invisible! Engage and withdraw!” you shout.
Something soars past you to thud into the ground. The fact that you can’t fucking see what it is…well, it’s beyond troubling. Actual invisibility is a hell of a thing. As far as you know, it’s not possible through magic, and there’s no known Gift that can imitate it.
A bullet rips past you and thuds into the hill, shattering. A noxious green gas spreads over the dirt near the impact point, killing it instantly. You leap away from it and land a few feet away from Sedri, who is whispering under her breath. Her eyes are glowing gold, now. You don’t know what color corresponds to which spell, but you really hope it’s that flare.

Connor fires an alchemic bullet past you, and it seems to deflect off of an object partway to the hill. By a stroke of fortune, it shatters nearly below the object it hit, and you’re rewarded with a shriek of pain as red fumes start drifting around the spot. Red means caustic, with your ammo, so whatever you’re fighting is probably in a world of hurt. That’s something, at least.

Abruptly, Arven collapses in a heap, a fountain of blood bursting from her neck. She gurgles and twitches her hand for her spear, but it breaks on the ground next to her. Something crushes her ammo pouch, and fifty colors of alchemic death suddenly burst from it to enshroud her. In a fraction of a second, there’s nothing left but bones.

Whatever you’re fighting is close now. Sling, emergency dagger, or spear?
>Sling
>Spear
>Dagger
>Give orders
>Fucking run

>>31291136
>Spear
jesus christ

>>31291136
>Spear
Don't want whatever is out there, getting close to us.

>Give orders
Have Connor and Sedri continue their ranged attacks. Maybe have Sedri shoot a very bright spell into the air to act as a flare and warn our main force. While we and who ever else is left try to cover the two, as they give us cover to escape. So basically...

>Fucking Run

>>31291136
If our melee weapons aren't enchanted, there's a good chance that they're not much better than harsh words against thing thing.
>Give orders: "fall back and keep firing! Protect Sedri!"

Indeed, Auxilia are only given enchanted weapons if they pay for them, since they get to keep them when they finish their tours. Legionnaires can have whatever the hell they want enchanted. Guards, they ave to pay for them, but they never bother.

SE reports that a power surge has fried his computer. He will report on when able to do so.

>>31291432
Shit. Hopefully it's soon.

>>31291322
So what is "our" military like. You said Auxilia and Legionnaires so I am just guessing similar to Roman with the whole Cohorts and Legions, mandatory conscripted military service for a certain amount of years, phalanx and Centuria, a senate that fucking stops the ones running their armies from doing their job, the whole having to buy your our equipment, and if you die the government takes/buys all your shit leaving your family nothing so when they themselves have to serve they are screwed.

>>31291432
Ouch. Hopefully soon.

>>31291432
>not having a surge protector

>>31291542
Using the plot files available to me, I am assured that that is essentially correct. There are also the Shadows, who are basically CIA wet teams, and a small corps of Royal Household troops who are more or less retired level 20 Pathfinder PCs. The military answers solely to the king in wartime, no real senates to speak of. More like Moffs from star wars

>>31291553
He had one. He says the problem is with sustained and frequent local power outages thanks to downed trees. check his twitter, Someone_else__

>>31291648
>Éva Illés @someone_else_ 10 Jul 2011
>Englad.I love your houses, your fields full of sheeps, rabbits and cows, your old castles, your seaside, your capital city, and your rain (:
>10 Jul 2011
???

>>31291673
That's probably not him. Or if it was him, then he might have been really, really high. Or drunk. Or both.

>>31291785
>3 years ago

>>31291803
Yeah, I know.

@Someone_else___ is the address

>>31292048
>differentiating yourself from other similar names by duplicating the last character
Well that'd be the reason for the confusion.
Guess someone will need to archive.

I'll finish the thread tomorrow if it's still up.

>>31292950
damn

>>31292950
Kay. This seems like a pretty interesting quest, but it could use some more images.

I hope we meet a sailor elf named Neon Guthrie.

Anxiously looking forward to OPs return.

Okay SE says his computer is mostly stable and he will be by around noon Eastern.

You nearly gag at the sight, but there’s no time to lose; you re-wrap your sling and heft your spear, holding your shield high across your arm. Your pauldron protects your neck and shoulder behind, and you slowly back up, looking for any sign of your mysterious enemy.
FWOOSH. A pillar of bright yellow light erupts from Sedri’s hands. The Flare spell shoots through the treetops to burst into dazzling light. Instantly, the shadows of the trees are as sharp as the edge of a blade, and your practiced troops shield their eyes for a moment.
You knew it was coming. If your opponent didn’t…
There! A pair of spots on the ground between you and Arven’s corpse depressed slightly, as if the invisible opponent wasn’t expecting a flare and misstepped. You swing low with your spear, valuing speed over accuracy, and you nick something. You hear a muffled groan of pain, then it’s gone.
Whatever it is, it’s burned and bleeding. The blood is invisible, but they’re leaking. Your squad is reloading in good order, Sedri’s recharging…you may have a second to breathe now.

What do you do?

>>31298725

Spread legs

>>31298725

>Fall back in good order.

It's bleeding, so any mildly acidic/transparent alchemicals would probably act as a nasty surprise. We need to fall back in good order, preserve our troops, and wait for backup.

If we have any entangling rounds, those might make good obstacles as well.

>>31298725
It'll be good if we can manage a hit with a sticky-filled bullet or something like a bola, see if that stays visible.

So keep an eye out for that while falling back.

Again, Se's power fails. He will be back in an hour and a half

Or sooner! Thank you, Envoy.

>>31298882
>>31299599
You bellow to your squad. “Fall back to the road!”
“Aye!” Your squad responds. Connor and Sedri fade back to the rear, still watching around you. You grab a bullet from your pouch with your shield arm and pull it free. The little orange pellet is an alchemic Glue Grenade, useful for taking prisoners. You’ve already hit the guy twice, maybe you’ll get lucky.
Squishy hefts his spear and balances an incendiary grenade in his free hand, stepping between you and the hill where the meeting took place. With a start, you realize you can see a few of the other people in the depression now, charging up the hill to follow you. You’re out of time.
Alrox whips his sling over at the assembled criminals – or whatever they are – and they scatter, just in time. The distinctive purple spikes of light from a Shatter grenade – designed for breaking armor – pierce the air where they had been standing. The two nobles don’t bother ducking; the light simply bounces off of them. That explains the enchanted jewelry: personal shields. Naturally.

(con’t)

Squishy suddenly spins, his leg flying off below the knee. He shrieks in agony as he pirouettes on his left foot, dropping his spear as he falls. You move to grab him, then lurch backwards as a few drops of Squishy’s blood splatter on something you can’t see. Without even thinking, you hurl the Glue grenade at that spot.
It breaks about four inches over the ground. Glass shards and odorous orange liquid scatter over something that looks a whole lot like an armored leg. You stab forward with your spear, impaling the limb, and the familiar sound of shattering bone meets your effort.
Someone – male, probably – screams in pain. Squishy’s screams fade as he realizes what’s happening right over his head. He regains lucidity for a moment, reaching up with trembling, blood-slicked hands to grab at empty air over the spot where the glue has now immobilized the phantasmal leg. “GOTCHA, YOU FUCK!” he screams, wild fear and agony in his eyes. “PAYBACK!” He grips your spear haft where it’s now lodged on the bone, holding it tight.
Invisible enemy, immobilized. You let your dagger slide into your hand, moving in for the kill. An invisible sword rings off of your shield, staggering you, but it’s not enough to slow you down. You quickly estimate where the neck would be on a person, given what you can see of the leg, and swing with all your might.

>Roll 1d100 + 5.

Rolled 44 + 5

>>31300307

It's clobbering time!

Rolled 88 + 5

>>31300307

Rolled 14 + 5

>>31300307

Rolled 73 + 5

>>31300307

Well done, Anon, the invisible guy was supposed to escape and become a miniboss later on, but the glue bomb got him. Good thinking. That +5 was from immobilization, by the way: all immobilized targets lose DC. Writing the next post...

Your dagger hits true. The invisible enemy, whatever he is, stops screaming. The spear you released to close suddenly turns to point skyward as the leg it’s in falls backwards, propped awkwardly by the glue attaching it to the ground.
Squishy lets go of the leg and feebly gestures to the other people now cresting the hill and charging at you. “Sergeant, go!”
“Shut up,” you say, stooping to grab his free hands and pulling him along.
A bolt of brown energy rips overhead, coming from the direction of the squad. Sedri is unleashing her Earth magic, it seems. You can’t hear the Army coming yet, but they must be close by now. You weren’t THAT far from the roads.
The two thugs from before are sprinting at you now, spreading apart as they do, and pulling daggers from their sleeves as they approach. Squishy swats your hand away and feebly reaches for a grenade, when a thrown knife from one of the mercs takes him square in the throat. He looks shocked for a moment, then pitches back, dead.
“Bastards!” you roar. You grab your spear and dagger back, then actually appraise the odds.
It’s not good. You have three slingers and a mage against eleven people of unknown skill. Can you do anything but retreat?

>Retreat
>Buy time for the Army to arrive

>>31300703
>Retreat

>>31300703

>Retreat

But throw as many alchemical rounds at them as you can. That exploding sack of death that took one of our men earlier sounded effective. Those things are expensive, but so are soldiers.

>>31300703
>Retreat as fast as possible.
No sense wasting precious alchemy when running without slinging would get us out faster.

Your squad knows what to do. One by one, they break cover and fall back, throwing alchemic bombs as they go. You’re first to go, chucking a Boiling Point grenade, oh-so-useful for enemies without armor, at the thugs as you go. You hit one square, melting him into a puddle in an instant.
“Nice throw, Ledren!” Sedri calls. “Go! I can cover you!”
You break your position and sprint for the road, just as another thrown knife thuds into your pauldron, knocking it away and exposing your shoulder. You don’t even stop to retrieve it, you just run full-tilt into the woods. Another bolt of brown light zips past you, to be deflected by the armor of one of the mercenaries.
“Who are these clowns?” Alrox growls.
“Let the Legion worry about that!” you call as you pass him. You stop behind another tree and he breaks cover, falling back.
It’s not fast enough. They outnumber you still, and they will flank you if you don’t make a break for it. “Dump your grenades and run for it, squad!” you call.
You can practically see your quartermaster changing colors as you say it, but it’s about the only way you’ll be able to escape now. You grab your alchemic ammo pouch from off your backplate and hurl it at the ground a few feet behind you.
It shatters the phials, releasing about fifty phials of ten or so spells total, and creating enough of a bang to silence the birds. Your few surviving squadmates do the same, then take off at a dead run. Sedri joins you, and the four of you are hauling for the road a moment later.

(con’t)

The branches of the trees whip past you as the remnants of Skirmish Team 4 pelt through the forest. Whatever’s behind you is either taking a more direct route than you or the alchemic morass you created is slowing them down better than you’d hoped, because the sounds of them crashing through the woods are quieter.
Connor runs up beside you as you race through the woods. “Sergeant…what…was that?” he pants.
“No idea, just run,” you snap, in no mood for conversation. Just as you say it, though, the light overhead grows darker as you enter the younger, denser forest. The trees grow closer together and shorter, and your heart seizes as you spot the road beyond the thickets.
“We’re there!” Alrox shouts. Then he vanishes.
You skid to a halt, feeling the icy grip of shock on your spine. He didn’t just trip and fall, he didn’t put on a burst of speed. One minute he was there, running along in his gear, the next he was absent, and his clothes, armor, weapons, and boots are tumbling to the ground in a mess. “Alrox!” you say, out of pure reflex.
Connor turns to look and nearly runs smack into a tree. “What? Where…what the hell happened?!”
“RUN!” Sedri suddenly screams. You see her streak past with a look of absolute terror on her face. It seems like following her is probably wise.
You resume running, but before you can take four steps, a bolt of white hot pain shoots through your back. You stumble and fall over numb legs and fall face-first on the dirt.

(con’t)

Rolled 43 + 5

>>31301910
Well shit.

You grip your leather gloves into the soft carpet of leaves and pine needles. The pain in your back is accompanied by a very frightening lack of sensation from that point down.
Think. Pain in the center back. Immobility. Paralysis. You took a hit in the spine.
Fuck.
Goddess Mai’te can’t hear you, being dead and all, but you realize you’re praying to her anyway.

You feel something grip your shoulders – Connor. “Sergeant! Get up!” he bellows, then suddenly he’s gone too. His clothes and armor patter down around you, as empty as if he had never been there at all.


>play dead
>crawl away
>scream for help

>>31301999
>play dead

>>31301999
>>play dead
We won't get anywhere without legs, and any help is better off running. Maybe if the enemy is careless we can escape later. It never hurts to hope.

>>31301999
Play dead.

You bite back a primal moan of pure horror. Nothing is right. Invisibility first, now this…whatever the hell is happening to your men. You screw your eyes shut and try not to visibly breathe. Footsteps slam into the ground all around you, and shouting, lots of shouting. Screaming, too, and flashes of brilliant light. Horrible bent light, as if whatever’s happening all around you is broken, and the world can’t fix it.
You’re panting. You shouldn’t be, but you are, and it’s not possible to stop, and it’s as instinctual as a heartbeat. Your whole body is seizing with terror and creeping numbness, and your hands are sticky inside your gloves from the cold sweat of animal terror.
Voices. You can hear voices. Officers giving orders, shouts for direction and movement. Battle cries. Screams. Laughter. Who’s laughing? Why laugh? Why not run and die and fade away into nothing?
No. Not here, this is not a battle. You feel tears wet your cheeks. This is wrong. Something is wrong. Everything. No!
Another scream. Something lands on top of your legs, not that you can feel them. You bite back a screech of agony as the knife in your spine twists. What’s left of cogent thought makes you laugh with delirious pain. The knife must have been enchanted to pass through your armor all the way up to the hilt.
BOOOM. Something massive explodes in the ruin of the convoy, scattering burning wood and people like leaves in a gale. Hot wind blows across your face. You didn’t bring anything like that with you to the battle, that you can recall while half-insane with fear.

(con’t)

You must be fighting members of the Brotherhood! Or Demigods who don’t like you, or Soul Biters from the Rifts to the south, or something else that transcends life and reality and fair play, your baked brain reasons. Yes! Surely that’s it, someone who is beyond mere mortals in the ken of might and magic. That makes perfect sense. You nod at your wisdom, face-down in the soil with the worms and the beetles that will be eating you before long. It would have been nice to see your loving husband Jerome again before you were horribly murdered of course, but oh well, that was the risk you took when you signed up for this gig, right? The blood-soaked body across your back seems to nod in agreement as you reach that conclusion. Wait, no, it’s just someone lifting it away and searching its pockets. Nope, dropped on you again, that hurt like a bastard. Don’t cry now! That would be bad.
Maybe you should have pled maternity leave before you took this tour to the western ports, you think to yourself. Let hubby sow some seed in your tummy and popped out a bouncing baby elf before you died. Would have been decent to do that before you pissed off a Firesoul or a ravening ghoul or whatever is butchering over seven hundred armed men of the Royal Army.
Say, it’s nighttime already! And the screaming has ended, that’s good. The battle must be over now! Too bad you appear to have lived through it, immobile and crazy is no way to exist until blood loss or hungry wolves put paid to you.

(con’t)

Wait. Ow. Something DID just hurt. What the fuck? You turn around and perceive…
Oh. That’s…new.
There are three people standing amidst all the carnage. Two humans and an elf. You’ve never seen them before, but their images are in every single history textbook ever written. A human woman with shimmering grey skin, very short wavy hair the color of clouds on a sunny day; a human man with a broad and muscular appearance, complete with bare arms and a military haircut; an elf woman with bronzed skin that seemed to change color with the starlight, and short, dark hair.
The Pantheon. Vier and Haret, the Demigods of the humans, and Asa, the last Demigod of the elves.
Asa has her hand in the air as if she just slapped you. Maybe she did. “Wake up, Elsa Ledren,” she commands, in a voice that somehow doesn’t involve her moving her lips. You can hear it in…you don’t have bones, what do you have? Ethereal tissue? That’s boring. Great name for a band, though…
“I said WAKE UP!” Asa commands. The ground beneath you quakes. A spike of clarity pierces your madness. Detachment replaces it, shaking the air that’s blowing through your ghostly form.
You’re dead. You’re Elsa Ledren, and it’s time to rest.
“Lady Asa…” you croak, except you’re not talking, and the voice you hear is the voice you have when you think.
“You’re not dead yet, child, unless I command you to be,” Asa says, her voice softening considerably. “You, and you alone. Your station is a higher one.”

END OF THREAD

Well, that was interesting! Anon did well. The invisible guy was supposed to escape, and you certainly weren't supposed to be able to get all the way back to the road alive. Any questions or comments you want to register? I'll supply players with all information a character in the setting might reasonably know, and clarification of rules if anyone needs them.

>>31302957
It's been a fun ride, definitely. When are you gonna run again?

>>31302957
thx 4 runin budi gud thred

>>31302998
Every Saturday afternoon that I'm not out cutting up trees that hunger for my house's delicious siding. And power lines. And foundation.

>>31302957

Most quests these days are shit, it's nice to have a breath opf fresh air. However a few criticisms:

Severe lack of images. We have no idea of the world, the terrain, and pictures give us something to base our understanding upon. You should comission some more art.

There needs to be a better introduction to this world. You call it the world of dead gods, but do you care to elaborate upon that? Or will we learn in the fullness of time?

All in all, there is promise, but this quest is currently a rough diamond. I hope to see it get a good buff and polish as the quest rolls on, so it can stand out from all the waifu and anime quests that we currently have.

And I recognise your name. Whatever happened to the other works you write on? Emprasque and WHH?

>>31303101
>art
I'll be happy to commission more art when I'm not living hand-to-mouth. A few drawfags have offered to make pics if the quest takes off.
>Introduction
I agree! Luckily, this was just the prologue. The world will open up hugely by the middle of thread two. I'll also be providing some information here in the post-quest chat. There's also two books in this setting called Travelers and Their Tales and An Unjust Scourge, both of which I wrote for NaNoWriMo. They are not required reading, but if anyone wants them, they're on my Mediafire.
http://www.mediafire.com/view/a7sf9zgh5kgw9k2/Travelers_and_Their_Tales.docx
http://www.mediafire.com/view/fu9xgabz4s33ble/An_Unjust_Scourge.docx
>Emprasque and WHH?
Done. I completed those portions of the WHH setting upon which I cared to elaborate and moved on to other things. Emperasque was a lot of fun, but I stopped enjoying it, so I stopped writing it.

Okay, the setting dump. There were originally 14 thinking races, and 14 gods above them. Over time, the gods each created demigods, siblings, one make and one female. After a major resource war kicked off and two entire portions of the continent were erased in a cataclysmic explosion, the number of thinking races went down to two: humans and elves. There are only three demigods left, and all the gods are dead. You just met the demigods: Haret, Vier, and Asa. The afterlife is destroyed, so when someone dies, their soul is just sort of absorbed into their demigod, with all elves going to Asa, all male humans going to Haret, and all female ones going to Vier.

In lieu of the world-spanning Empire that once controlled the planet of Tarsh, there are fifty or so kingdoms and pocket empires that control most of it and various baronies that control the rest. There is also an uninhabited range of mountains.

The 'flying cities' mentioned earlier are the abandoned cities of the now-dead Harpies and Dragon-men, which are crashing since there's nobody left to fly them.

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All right, if nobody has any other questions, then I guess I'll call it a day! This was a lot of fun for me, I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a long while.

Next thread is Saturday morning.

>all the interesting races are dead
goddamnit

>>31306992
Races, perhaps!
People, no! I have a whole cast penned out and ready to deploy. Also consider that, as I have shown, their artifacts did not die with them...

>>31307348
Yeah but all those people are going to elves or humans, right?
That's just so fucking boring.

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>>31307972
Are books set on earth doubly boring then? They're all human.