How indeed?
Monday, November 25, 2013
Abuzz with activity
Marscon 2014 will shortly be upon us, and in preparation for the event, I'll be reposting the lead-ins to the convention. Convention registration can be found here, while event registration will be posted on Friday, 29 November 2013. In addition, character questions and other information will be posted shortly in a new FAQ.
- Mark
- Mark
Friday, September 13, 2013
Eclipsed Prelude #3 - Totality
Ten Years Ago:
His hand trembled as he held the cigarette, doing his best to keep it dry amid the pouring rain. His fingers, shaking from both the cold and the most recent stinging events fumbled with the lighter, failing to turn the spark wheel. After a few moments, the warm ember of flame lit up a haunted face - A man at his very bottom.
For some time, he stood on the bridge, allowing the rain to saturate every element of his being. He took a deep drag off the cigarette, allowing the smoke to waft like a dampened halo as he stared blankly over the edge of the bridge. He tried to close his eyes, block out the emptiness that seemed to fill every crevice and nook inside of him, finding nothing but the cold faces of former friends and employers. There was a terribly abyss looking up at him from places deep inside, and it was that moment that he had lost the will to resist that eventual pull that would consume every element of who he was.
He had lost another job, and with that, the last shred of self-respect and hopeful possibility. Of course, he had reasoned that he had lost himself already by taking the position with the Morning Zoo, but the stunts and 'antics' had reduced him to shilling for what he assumed was a better position in the radio hierarchy. It wasn't just the fact that he had learned that he was not respected as an equal amid the decision makers and 'newscasters', it was that he was their own private joke - a name used to elicit guffaws and behind the back jokes. He had become that - A joke...a private jester for those who deemed themselves his betters. The image of those faces made him choke up a bit, making his trembling hands shake uncontrollably out of pain and anger, but he was tired - Too tired to fight the abyss any longer.
The cigarette was nearly finished. The last bit of ashes drifted down in a soppy mess, made more so by the increase in the rain. He dropped the butt over the edge, watching it quickly disappear into the wet darkness. His eyes strained to see the bottom, but found that he could not - a long drop that would mark the end of it all. His hands tightened around the railing, as he could almost hear the barbs being exchanged between the station - the big joke. He closed his eyes tightly, letting out a sigh that was a mixture of emotions. Would there be anyone who really cared enough? Would there be a moment in which they realized that he had value, that his views and presence meant something more than a cheap joke or a hurried impression of him? Would his death even register?
There were too many thoughts like that crowding his mind as he pulled himself over the rail, holding the edge of it while straining to decide to let go. 'Nash Milton' the voice called out to him. The suddenness and clarity of the voice nearly caused him to let go. For a moment, he wasn't certain if he had heard someone calling his name or if he had simply imagined it. For the moment, he stared forward, until he heard his name called again; 'Nash Milton' the voice called again. It was a woman's voice, a voice that caused him to turn away from the drop and back towards the other side of the rail.
She stood amid the pouring rain as if she was an angel. The rain seemed to fall around her, as he stared unable to react. Her features were exotically beautiful, framed by a black hat that seemed to shield her from the rain, and despite the fact he couldn't see her eyes, he knew that she was looking directly at him. 'Nash Milton' she began again, staring at him with unseen eyes, 'Such a fall without a chance at ascension is indeed a pity.'
'S-stay b-back' Nash said brokenly, his hands gripping the slick rail, leaning forward, 'I'll do it...I...I need to do it' 'Why?' the woman asked, her voice genuinely concerned. In a simply word, Nash felt more compassion and sincerity than he had heard in years.
'Do you feel all is beyond hope?' 'Hope....' Nash started, his fingers tightening against the metal, digging into his hands, 'What hope do I have? It's all hopeless' 'Hopeless?' The woman said, questioningly before taking a few steps forward, 'No Nash...not hopeless....never hopeless. I bring you great tidings...'
'Tidings?' Nash felt himself responding, trembling now with a sensation he couldn't quite place. It was as if someone had crossed his grave, which in consideration of the situation, wouldn't necessarily be out of place, 'Tidings...' Nash added, 'How....How did you know my name?'
'As I said' the woman added with the glimpse of a smile, 'I was sent to you...with glad tidings' Nash watched her move forward, the rain seemingly avoiding the strange woman. Closer under the sodium light Nash could see her better. She was a tall woman, a woman of extraordinary features in a black and white dress. For a long moment, Nash was left speechless, his hands relaxing ever so slightly from the edge of the rail. It was that moment that Nash lost his balance, his feet giving way in the slippery edge.
Nash felt himself lurching forward, the darkness yawning below him, and he felt himself pitch over the edge. A sudden jerk moved him back, as he felt his arm wrench nearly out of socket. He dangled over the edge, held in place by the woman's hand. Nash felt himself pulled back, lifted from the rim to the solidness of the bridge.
'Why?' Nash managed after a long while, his voice nearly above the din of the light falling rain. Nash didn't look up, didn't face his savior, sitting in a puddle where he had been dropped. 'You have a destiny, Nash Milton' the woman added, as she adjusted her long opera gloves, 'And this destiny is one of great importance in what must come'
'Destiny?' Nash added, 'What destiny?' 'Glorious destiny' she added, looking again at him, 'for *he* has need of you. Serve willingly your destiny and the rewards are....boundless' Her hand reached down to him, and Nash felt his own move up, at first reluctantly, to meet her grasp.
There was something in the strength of the woman that amazed him, but it was matched with the absolutely coldness of her. It was as if she were a porcelain doll, beautiful to look at, but cold and hard to the touch. Nash looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments, the first time he had really seen them, and felt himself shudder - There was no warmth in the woman's eyes at all.
'A wise decision, Nash Milton' the woman added, a small smile creasing her perfect red lips, 'A wise decision. *He* will be pleased'
'Is it a new job?' Nash asked, his own greed rising again.
'A glorious job...where you will see yourself a god among men' She added, her smile continuing, 'And no one will mock you ever again...' Nash felt himself flush, and yet, he knew somewhere he was making the deal with the devil. The woman had come to him at his lowest point, and yet, he could not shake the feeling that somehow, he would have been better off at the bottom of the abyss.
______
Today
He stood as the make-up girl continued to apply last minute touch-ups. His personal assistant continued to read off the bullet-point topics, and his guests had all supplicated themselves for the moment on his show. He had restarted his career that night so long ago, and took what the woman had said to heart. She had become his muse, his dark angel that guided him to shaping his new image. Now Nash Milton was an icon of a political generation.
Nash recalled his initial hesitation, how could he have been so foolish? His net worth in book sales, television revenues, and the talk radio circuit alone made him a wealthy giant among men. When Nash Milton said something, people listened, even the most ardent of critics. Nash stared out amid the sea of producers, technicians, and underlings that made the show happen. Somewhere amid the mass she stood, and Nash smiled at her with as he emerged onto the stage.
The teleprompter lit up with a light neon, but Nash had long since abandoned its practical use. Nash was plugged in directly to *him*, and the sense of purpose and power filled his every being. The set had the icons of patriotism and blackboards where he made his own notes and 'realizations' His set was carefully modeled after George Washington's personal study, and the digital screen had already brought up the issues that Nash would press upon a willing population.
'Good Evening America, I'm Nash Milton...and this is 'Eyewitness'. Tonight friends, we will talk about the abuses of power....the abuses of liberty....and what you need to know....' Nash smiled to the camera, but it wasn't just his smile...*He* was working through him....and the sheep would listen...and follow.
____
ECLIPSED
MARSCON
JAN 17 - 19 2014
His hand trembled as he held the cigarette, doing his best to keep it dry amid the pouring rain. His fingers, shaking from both the cold and the most recent stinging events fumbled with the lighter, failing to turn the spark wheel. After a few moments, the warm ember of flame lit up a haunted face - A man at his very bottom.
For some time, he stood on the bridge, allowing the rain to saturate every element of his being. He took a deep drag off the cigarette, allowing the smoke to waft like a dampened halo as he stared blankly over the edge of the bridge. He tried to close his eyes, block out the emptiness that seemed to fill every crevice and nook inside of him, finding nothing but the cold faces of former friends and employers. There was a terribly abyss looking up at him from places deep inside, and it was that moment that he had lost the will to resist that eventual pull that would consume every element of who he was.
He had lost another job, and with that, the last shred of self-respect and hopeful possibility. Of course, he had reasoned that he had lost himself already by taking the position with the Morning Zoo, but the stunts and 'antics' had reduced him to shilling for what he assumed was a better position in the radio hierarchy. It wasn't just the fact that he had learned that he was not respected as an equal amid the decision makers and 'newscasters', it was that he was their own private joke - a name used to elicit guffaws and behind the back jokes. He had become that - A joke...a private jester for those who deemed themselves his betters. The image of those faces made him choke up a bit, making his trembling hands shake uncontrollably out of pain and anger, but he was tired - Too tired to fight the abyss any longer.
The cigarette was nearly finished. The last bit of ashes drifted down in a soppy mess, made more so by the increase in the rain. He dropped the butt over the edge, watching it quickly disappear into the wet darkness. His eyes strained to see the bottom, but found that he could not - a long drop that would mark the end of it all. His hands tightened around the railing, as he could almost hear the barbs being exchanged between the station - the big joke. He closed his eyes tightly, letting out a sigh that was a mixture of emotions. Would there be anyone who really cared enough? Would there be a moment in which they realized that he had value, that his views and presence meant something more than a cheap joke or a hurried impression of him? Would his death even register?
There were too many thoughts like that crowding his mind as he pulled himself over the rail, holding the edge of it while straining to decide to let go. 'Nash Milton' the voice called out to him. The suddenness and clarity of the voice nearly caused him to let go. For a moment, he wasn't certain if he had heard someone calling his name or if he had simply imagined it. For the moment, he stared forward, until he heard his name called again; 'Nash Milton' the voice called again. It was a woman's voice, a voice that caused him to turn away from the drop and back towards the other side of the rail.
She stood amid the pouring rain as if she was an angel. The rain seemed to fall around her, as he stared unable to react. Her features were exotically beautiful, framed by a black hat that seemed to shield her from the rain, and despite the fact he couldn't see her eyes, he knew that she was looking directly at him. 'Nash Milton' she began again, staring at him with unseen eyes, 'Such a fall without a chance at ascension is indeed a pity.'
'S-stay b-back' Nash said brokenly, his hands gripping the slick rail, leaning forward, 'I'll do it...I...I need to do it' 'Why?' the woman asked, her voice genuinely concerned. In a simply word, Nash felt more compassion and sincerity than he had heard in years.
'Do you feel all is beyond hope?' 'Hope....' Nash started, his fingers tightening against the metal, digging into his hands, 'What hope do I have? It's all hopeless' 'Hopeless?' The woman said, questioningly before taking a few steps forward, 'No Nash...not hopeless....never hopeless. I bring you great tidings...'
'Tidings?' Nash felt himself responding, trembling now with a sensation he couldn't quite place. It was as if someone had crossed his grave, which in consideration of the situation, wouldn't necessarily be out of place, 'Tidings...' Nash added, 'How....How did you know my name?'
'As I said' the woman added with the glimpse of a smile, 'I was sent to you...with glad tidings' Nash watched her move forward, the rain seemingly avoiding the strange woman. Closer under the sodium light Nash could see her better. She was a tall woman, a woman of extraordinary features in a black and white dress. For a long moment, Nash was left speechless, his hands relaxing ever so slightly from the edge of the rail. It was that moment that Nash lost his balance, his feet giving way in the slippery edge.
Nash felt himself lurching forward, the darkness yawning below him, and he felt himself pitch over the edge. A sudden jerk moved him back, as he felt his arm wrench nearly out of socket. He dangled over the edge, held in place by the woman's hand. Nash felt himself pulled back, lifted from the rim to the solidness of the bridge.
'Why?' Nash managed after a long while, his voice nearly above the din of the light falling rain. Nash didn't look up, didn't face his savior, sitting in a puddle where he had been dropped. 'You have a destiny, Nash Milton' the woman added, as she adjusted her long opera gloves, 'And this destiny is one of great importance in what must come'
'Destiny?' Nash added, 'What destiny?' 'Glorious destiny' she added, looking again at him, 'for *he* has need of you. Serve willingly your destiny and the rewards are....boundless' Her hand reached down to him, and Nash felt his own move up, at first reluctantly, to meet her grasp.
There was something in the strength of the woman that amazed him, but it was matched with the absolutely coldness of her. It was as if she were a porcelain doll, beautiful to look at, but cold and hard to the touch. Nash looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments, the first time he had really seen them, and felt himself shudder - There was no warmth in the woman's eyes at all.
'A wise decision, Nash Milton' the woman added, a small smile creasing her perfect red lips, 'A wise decision. *He* will be pleased'
'Is it a new job?' Nash asked, his own greed rising again.
'A glorious job...where you will see yourself a god among men' She added, her smile continuing, 'And no one will mock you ever again...' Nash felt himself flush, and yet, he knew somewhere he was making the deal with the devil. The woman had come to him at his lowest point, and yet, he could not shake the feeling that somehow, he would have been better off at the bottom of the abyss.
______
Today
He stood as the make-up girl continued to apply last minute touch-ups. His personal assistant continued to read off the bullet-point topics, and his guests had all supplicated themselves for the moment on his show. He had restarted his career that night so long ago, and took what the woman had said to heart. She had become his muse, his dark angel that guided him to shaping his new image. Now Nash Milton was an icon of a political generation.
Nash recalled his initial hesitation, how could he have been so foolish? His net worth in book sales, television revenues, and the talk radio circuit alone made him a wealthy giant among men. When Nash Milton said something, people listened, even the most ardent of critics. Nash stared out amid the sea of producers, technicians, and underlings that made the show happen. Somewhere amid the mass she stood, and Nash smiled at her with as he emerged onto the stage.
The teleprompter lit up with a light neon, but Nash had long since abandoned its practical use. Nash was plugged in directly to *him*, and the sense of purpose and power filled his every being. The set had the icons of patriotism and blackboards where he made his own notes and 'realizations' His set was carefully modeled after George Washington's personal study, and the digital screen had already brought up the issues that Nash would press upon a willing population.
'Good Evening America, I'm Nash Milton...and this is 'Eyewitness'. Tonight friends, we will talk about the abuses of power....the abuses of liberty....and what you need to know....' Nash smiled to the camera, but it wasn't just his smile...*He* was working through him....and the sheep would listen...and follow.
____
ECLIPSED
MARSCON
JAN 17 - 19 2014
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Special Edition Adventures
Good Morning all;
So as many of you know, January 2014 will mark the official 'one year' anniversary of the DI Multi-Regional campaign (And Year 28 in the campaign) and the culmination of an over-arching story in 'Eclipsed'. It got me to thinking that while several of the 'end of year' events are linked, people who had begun playing recently or had begun during the end of the Crusaders really hadn't had an opportunity to play those adventures, or that information which could make 'Eclipsed' more enjoyable might be missing. In addition, these adventures, while bringing together various plots and modules during a year are actually interconnected (as long-term players might attest. The more I got to thinking about it, the more I realized that heading into 'Eclipsed', I wanted to give people the opportunity to experience the 'full' aspect of 'Eclipsed', as well as give people the opportunity who didn't get to play these adventures that chance before they go into the vault along with the Ark.
Therefore, there will be Two 'Special Edition' adventures:
Crossover: Special Edition (Crusaders 2009)
Devoured: Special Edition (Crusaders 2011)
I will be running each Special Edition Module at least once during the next four months, leading towards 'Eclipsed'. If you haven't played in a while, never played, or started playing after one of these adventures, then it is something to be part of. As these adventures were designed for a full weekend, I've gone back and had a chance to re-edit them. Both adventures will run about eight hours apiece, which would be a full day of gaming. Playing 'Crossover' and 'Devoured' isn't essential to playing 'Eclipsed', I just thought I'd offer them up accordingly.
I might be adding a Special Edition of 'The Reaving' (P:WG 2007), if people are interested.
Ideally, we'll be running the special editions beginning at the end of September/Beginning of October, and would run the SE mods over October/November. I'll have more details once I work out the locations.
If you have questions, let me know!
So as many of you know, January 2014 will mark the official 'one year' anniversary of the DI Multi-Regional campaign (And Year 28 in the campaign) and the culmination of an over-arching story in 'Eclipsed'. It got me to thinking that while several of the 'end of year' events are linked, people who had begun playing recently or had begun during the end of the Crusaders really hadn't had an opportunity to play those adventures, or that information which could make 'Eclipsed' more enjoyable might be missing. In addition, these adventures, while bringing together various plots and modules during a year are actually interconnected (as long-term players might attest. The more I got to thinking about it, the more I realized that heading into 'Eclipsed', I wanted to give people the opportunity to experience the 'full' aspect of 'Eclipsed', as well as give people the opportunity who didn't get to play these adventures that chance before they go into the vault along with the Ark.
Therefore, there will be Two 'Special Edition' adventures:
Crossover: Special Edition (Crusaders 2009)
Devoured: Special Edition (Crusaders 2011)
I will be running each Special Edition Module at least once during the next four months, leading towards 'Eclipsed'. If you haven't played in a while, never played, or started playing after one of these adventures, then it is something to be part of. As these adventures were designed for a full weekend, I've gone back and had a chance to re-edit them. Both adventures will run about eight hours apiece, which would be a full day of gaming. Playing 'Crossover' and 'Devoured' isn't essential to playing 'Eclipsed', I just thought I'd offer them up accordingly.
I might be adding a Special Edition of 'The Reaving' (P:WG 2007), if people are interested.
Ideally, we'll be running the special editions beginning at the end of September/Beginning of October, and would run the SE mods over October/November. I'll have more details once I work out the locations.
If you have questions, let me know!
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Eclipsed Prelude #2 - Second Contact
There was nothing
left to give. Ashra Shan had fought more campaigns and wars than many
who had set upon the great council, and he knew from experience that
they had nothing left.
The push had been murderous, and even with the air support of the gliders, it was too much to suggest that they would be able to do more than gain a temporary purchase. Shan rose unsteadily as he stared across the expanse, shifting his head to the side as he realized that even the gravimetric pulse weaponry had done little to stop their advance.
The push had been murderous, and even with the air support of the gliders, it was too much to suggest that they would be able to do more than gain a temporary purchase. Shan rose unsteadily as he stared across the expanse, shifting his head to the side as he realized that even the gravimetric pulse weaponry had done little to stop their advance.
These were the moments, Shan reminded himself, that command was a terrible and weighty thing. Watching the writhing black mass move forward, Shan faced the grim options that within hours, another planet in the Imperium would be lost.
What could he do? The heaviest weapons had done little but scar the landscape. The population couldn't be evacuated fast enough, and despite the diversion of several capital ships to assist in the action, there would be nothing that could be done to slow the onslaught.
Scientists in the core worlds had begun to discuss of the loss on planetary scales rather than population or continents. If the Imperium's finest could not hold the planet, the core worlds would be exposed, and from there....an entire quadrant.
When the Shai' J'ihn ships had arrived, Shan had actually blessed the Starmother and the Nine Lights. They Shai' J'ihn Spartax class warships had been attempting to assist the evacuation, before it was determined they could do nothing more than lay down supporting fire for the last of the shuttles.
Shan rechecked his own ammunition supply and again surveyed the outlining outposts. There were already so many...so many who had been....converted.
At first, they had debated the cause, a pathogen or some sort of communicable microbe. Although he wasn't a scientist, the idea of a psionic cause seemed to make as much sense as any, especially with the swiftness in which the conversion had occurred.
The ground shook and rumbled, and he scanned the horizon to see the Spartax warships strafing the groups with Quantbombs, buying a small caravan shuttle time to lift off. It wasn't a matter anymore of rescue...he could already see the larger Imperium ships moving in with the WorldBuster.
'Ashra Shan' the voice called to him. For a moment, he thought it was simply a trick from the reverberation of the Quantbombs, but when his name was called again, he stopped and turned. Standing before him was a man, older than any he had ever seen. The man seemed dressed oddly for a battlefield - a simple herdsman, light gray tunic with a careworn face and hood. The man stood taller than Shan, with a full beard and white-gray hair that curled slightly around his shoulders.
'This world is lost, Ahsra Shan...you know it is. They have been swept up in the Grand Infernal Calculations of God Mechanics.'
Shan attempted to answer, but found himself unable to do so. His own voice paled in the din of explosions and gravimetric distortion weaponry. The herdsman's voice remained clear and strained only by the fact that he was an old man.
'Ashra Shan' the herdsman began again, 'You have been chosen. We have need of you, and other like you'
Shan began to motion in protest, trying to communicate above the war sounds to express his refusal. As if in answer, the old herdsman put his hands out, palm flatted upwards.
'All will be made known Ashra Shan...but for now...we go...'
Before Ashra Shan could protest, they disappeared into nothingness. Moments later, the converted swept over the command post. Moments after that, the first of the Worldbusters fell, followed by bright light that flashed as brilliantly as the nearby sun.
-
MARSCON 2014
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
ECLIPSED Prelude: First Contact
*KTHUNK*
He took his position as the rest of the AEGIS elite squad breached the immediate door.
Sweeping ahead, he moved forward, aiming ahead with practiced precision.
Comanche-Two moved silently in parallel, as he continued to push into
the room.The first real opposition appeared like a dimly back-lit shadow, running headlong into the group. Instincts took over and he felt his fingers tighten on the pulse rifle, compensating for the recoil as he dropped to a kneeling position. The target staggered backwards, falling with arms flailing wildly from the impact of the shot. Firing a second shot to ensure the target would not get up, he moved, still crouching, forward to a more defensible position.
Comanche-Three was engaged by the sounds of the weird twang that semi-silenced gunfire made. Waving his hand forward, he moved to support Comanche-Two and Three, taking only the briefest moment to take stock of the tactical situation beyond what the initial intelligence had been. The group had modified the building down to the support structures, and had done so without alerting anyone, or for that matter, utilizing traditional mechanical methods. There was an alien, inhuman quality to the interior, one that had him thinking about that old movie in which a group of marines faced that group of elliots. It wasn't a pleasant memory....the truth was, it had scared him when he had seen it as a young boy and the images of the bound-up colonist and exploding alien had stuck with him. He could actually hear his breathing now, felt his heart racing slightly, and he had to consciously work to ensure the anxiety remained suppressed.
Two more tangos emerged from the shadows, giving him just enough time to take aim before he fired. It was weird how they just seemed to rush forward, no consideration to their position or cover, or for weapons fire for that matter. Comanche-Three seemed frantic about something, and he zeroed in on the discussion, using the OP-SET to switch to infra-red. Comanche-Three was correct, that the group of tangos had no body temperature. Feeling a jolt of cold anxiety pass over him, he gripped the handle of his rifle, changing the rounds from 'stun' to 'live'.
His telemetry showed the downed Tangos, now slowly struggling up. The initial shock should have kept them from being able to move for hours, let alone get him. He crooked his head as he saw the first tangos on their feet. Breaking from his cover, he fired on the slow moving figures, taking no chances as the smart-system guided the shots directly to the heads. He had seen enough zombie movies to know firing anywhere else would be pointless. Moving room to room, he fired six salvos in total, stopping finally at the junction in the center. Meeting up with Comanches Two, Three, and Four, a barely audible check between confirmed the same on-site SoS data and that none had been touched, let alone bitten before continuing forward.
The central chamber actually dropped three stories, each floor emptied and dug up,with a precision that made everyone a little jittery. It wasn't just the host of 'others', it was the way in which the construction had been performed. He was by no means a mathematician, but he could understand that the chamber had been built to odd geometric angles. The descent downwards met little resistance, and within a few moments, they had descended past ground level into the sub-basement.
For a moment, he didn't quite know how to react to what he was seeing. A single dark obelisk stood in the center of a flat floor. Figures were bound nearby, in various conditions, while a single point of access, a small geodesic red oval seemed to pulse with some unholy ruby-colored light. In that moment, he felt the most afraid - not for what he was seeing, but for what he could not comprehend. Comanche-Three broke formation and ran screaming up the ramp, while the other two remained steadfast, if not immobile.
He thought he could hear it even through the OP-SET. For a moment, he had to check several times to make certain he was not picking up outside chatter. The Obelisk, or rather what the Obelisk represented seemed to be *whispering* to him. The language was unknown, but somehow he knew the intent, and for a moment, he felt himself listening.
He shook his head, feeling the heaviness of the room, and then focused to shut out all other distraction. Seeing that Comanche-Two and Four had become immobile, he raised his rifle and fired at the red oval. The piercing sound caused the OP-SET to overload, and it was minutes before he had fully recovered from the effect. He roughly became aware of other AEGIS agents shaking him, trying to get him to respond, and when he finally motioned them away, minutes had passed.
He took off his helmet and stood looking at the room. AEGIS had already begun to clean-up the site, treating those still alive, and working to dismantle whatever the Obelisk was. For a moment he simply stood watching everything, until his eyes caught something on the walls. Lighting the area up with a powerful halogen, he stopped completely and felt his body shiver again. Replacing the helmet, he manually patched into his signal comm, hoping the transmitter still functioned.
'Go' was the only word uttered from the other end of the comm.
'I think....I think you need to see this'
'How bad?'
'Uh....' he felt him pause, 'I think....real bad'
As he stared upwards, Fer-De-Lance knew he could not make sense of the imagery or scrawled equations against the wall. Somewhere in the years of training and education, he knew he recognized the complex glyphs as mathematics, but unlike he had ever seen before.
'Site Two cleared' Fer-De-Lance added, 'It's worse than the others'
Updates #1
Sorry for the delay in responding everyone!
A lot has happened in the last two months, and I've been lapsed in updating with things. First, I apologize as we will not be making GUNS OF AUGUST in Williamsburg, VA this year. Between real life commitments and unable to get a schedule hammered out, it's been difficult.
I am planning on the third gameday of the year, sometime in late August/Early September which will feature the last premiere of the season and the ability to catch up on Frozen, UNICORN, Abraxas, or Ascension parts 1 and 2.
Very shortly I'll be posting the first Eclipsed prelude, which begins the march towards Marscon 2014! I hope you enjoy it!
Mark
A lot has happened in the last two months, and I've been lapsed in updating with things. First, I apologize as we will not be making GUNS OF AUGUST in Williamsburg, VA this year. Between real life commitments and unable to get a schedule hammered out, it's been difficult.
I am planning on the third gameday of the year, sometime in late August/Early September which will feature the last premiere of the season and the ability to catch up on Frozen, UNICORN, Abraxas, or Ascension parts 1 and 2.
Very shortly I'll be posting the first Eclipsed prelude, which begins the march towards Marscon 2014! I hope you enjoy it!
Mark
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