-
Welcome to rpgcodex.net, a site dedicated to discussing computer based role-playing games in a free and open fashion. We're less strict than other forums, but please refer to the rules.
"This message is awaiting moderator approval": All new users must pass through our moderation queue before they will be able to post normally. Until your account has "passed" your posts will only be visible to yourself (and moderators) until they are approved. Give us a week to get around to approving / deleting / ignoring your mundane opinion on crap before hassling us about it. Once you have passed the moderation period (think of it as a test), you will be able to post normally, just like all the other retards.
[LP CYOA] Epic
- Thread starter treave
- Start date
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
So we're either getting captured by Alpha or we're going crazy due to exposing ourselves to this place. Or both.
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
Garden of the Gods
When my fingers brush the shadow door, I feel them sink in. There is a slight, insistent tug, followed by a stronger one that makes my imaginary finger joints creak. Then, I am pulled in without being able to offer any resistance.
I hear one of the figures say, “Wow. I can’t believe he fell for that.”
***
When the darkness clears, I find myself looking at the sky. A sky that is pure white, without a hint of any blemish or imperfection. There appears to be a dim light and heat emanating from the sky somehow – it is not blinding or glaring to observe.
This seems familiar. It is not exactly the same as the world I visited once, however; instead of smooth grey buildings melted together in an unnatural hodgepodge of architecture, the structures here seem to be real. Concrete. I tap the floor I had been sitting on. Real concrete, from the feel of it. I seem to be on top of a skyscraper; multiple other towers stretch out before me, indicating that I am in a city of some sort. I do not recognize the skyline, however. When my eyes shift, quickly scanning the featureless heavens, I spot a single object that breaks the uniformity of the unnerving firmament above me: a moon. It is difficult to spot in the white sky, its own colour almost blending into the background. The shadowy craters are the only thing that distinguish it from its surroundings.
“This is a dull place, I must admit.”
I turn with a start, my observation of the moon rudely interrupted by the croaking, husky voice. In front of me must be the oldest man I have ever seen. He is wizened and bent over in his brown coat, clutching onto a black cane. The up-turned collar of the coat covers his ears and what is left of his wispy white hair straggling out a meagre existence on the sides of his head. Still, the wrinkles that line his face cannot disguise the glint of power in his eyes. This is a man that is used to getting what he wants.
With a quaking effort, he manages to bend forward even further in a grotesque bow, though he looks on the verge of toppling over just to attempt such a stunt.
“Welcome, young Senya, to the garden of the gods.”
“I thought you guys were big on the idea of nice chairs and tea,” I say. “This is a rather sparse reception.”
The old man peers at me with eyes clouded by age and snorts. “Cooper, right? He likes that sort of presentation. After so many years they have each developed quirks in their methods of dealing with the natives. Well, if that is what you want… I didn’t ask for you to appear on top of the building, you know.” He turns his back and beckons a crooked finger at me. “Come.”
I remember what the figure said just before I was deposited here. As the old man hobbles away, I concentrate on finding a way back. I don’t need to leave right now, but should I require an urgent exit…
Nothing. I cannot sense anything outside what I currently feel. I cannot even call upon my powers.
The old man stops and glances over his shoulder at me, his lips twisted into an unlikeable grin. At that moment, I understand that there is no escape, at least for now. There is nothing for me to do but to follow and hope I haven’t finally gotten myself into something over my head.
***
The bottom levels of the skyscraper turn out to be a shopping mall, judging from the items on display in the windows. The words adorning the signs and billboards are in a script I do not recognize, though they seem to share a very slight resemblance to Shinari Greek. Other than that, there are the usual collections of bags and clothes that seem to be the bulk of merchandise in such malls, and there are no signs of anything living other than me and the old man. I find myself in what looks like to be a pleasantly comfortable coffee house, a cup of steaming mocha in front of me and the old man perched arrogantly opposite me.
“This is a nice way to treat your prisoner.”
“No,” smiles the old man. “Not yet. You are still a guest for now.”
“Well, let’s hope I don’t do anything to revoke that status,” I wave. “By the way, where are the ones that brought me here? They are your flunkies, I presume?”
“Oh, I assume they are out and about. You might meet them, you might not. That is not important. And no, they are not my flunkies, Senya. They are my colleagues.”
“You seem to be a little bit old to be their colleague. None of them sounded or appeared like you, or are you disguising yourself?”
The old man shakes his head. “I am not capable of such a thing. What you see before you is what I am. Just an old man.” Even so, I have a strong feeling that ‘just an old man’ is probably what many of his foes thought just before he disposed of them. I settle back, trying to keep my composure.
“Why are you the one to explain things to me, then?”
“Because we are the most alike, you and I,” says the old man. “When you get right down to it, we are both humans caught in the games of the gods.”
We sit there, looking at each other in silence.
“Well?” asks the old man.
“Well what?” I ask in return.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I’m sure you have lots to tell me regardless of what I say. Go ahead and talk, and let me know when you’ve finished talking.”
The old man’s face creases up in a strange expression. His grin seems to be almost angry, and for an instant I think he is about to jump over the table and throttle me. Then, he sighs loudly.
“You may think I am not on your side, but I am. Very well, I will tell you what I know. Right, where shall I start…”
***
You are a part of the Great Idea. My colleagues call it the Idea of All Existence, but no matter what we name it, it has the same role. It observes reality, and in the process of observing it makes reality real. You already know that. Now, what you don’t know is that it is not God. At least, it is not a god that was there from the start; it is a creation, just like you or me. My colleagues created it as a project. They were facing a terrible crisis, certain extinction… I don’t know what it is as they no longer remember themselves, and apparently the IAE project was to be their trump card to overcome this crisis.
They could not save themselves, so they created a God to save them.
It did not work out like they hoped. The only ones saved were thirteen beings that had been physically closest to the Great Idea when it awoke, the ones that had been involved on the project as its custodians. Even then, they were reduced to shadows of their former selves. The rest of their people were effectively destroyed. I say effectively, because in its awakening it sought to execute its original instructions, which was to protect this world and its people. It did that by suspending the world from the flow of time. The process turned the residents of the world into echoes. Pointless fragments of thoughts.
From then on, the nature of reality changed, governed by the Great Idea and its whims. It is not a perfect God, not at all. You do know of the Unseen, right? Yes, I see that you know of them. The white ghosts that have fallen out of God’s sight. Some god. Hah. It would sit on its throne observing stupidly while all of us die slowly choking to death in white goo. Under its watch, the multiverse has stagnated. You might not know this, but there is no progress through the infinite universes; no life, no advances, except what we have cultivated in our own sandbox.
With my help, its former custodians have embarked on a mission to find a way out of this hell it has trapped them in. What began as an experiment out of boredom and curiosity would now be the sword by which we can strike back at the Great Idea. They need someone truly alive and living, like us – truly human - to shake their perception of their reality and show them what they really need to do.
***
“What they really need to do, is to kill the god that they made.” finishes the old man.
“What is so hard about that? They made it, didn’t they?”
“They have been denied access,” shrugs the old man. “I don’t know everything about that, but it seems that they were locked out when the Great Idea suddenly gained the idea of self-preservation.” I stare at the old man. I don’t trust him, and I’m not sure whether his story is the truth, a half-truth, or even entirely made-up. It seems plausible enough, but there are always other explanations.
“So, this is where I come in?” They must have been searching for ways to destroy their own creation for countless eons. That was what the games were for, eventually. The Master had implied that I was a piece that changed the game entirely... maybe even doing away with the need for a game at all. This is how.
The old man nods, grinning his toothless grin. “I am not sure how, but I know you can do it.”
He expects me to kill the Observer. I am about to laugh and call it a ridiculous idea, before I suddenly remember the room I had been in before coming here, where I had deleted an immortal from existence. Perhaps the supercomputer and its control panel was not just a figment of imagination created out of familiarity. Perhaps it was grounded in reality… well, for a given value of reality, which has really depreciated nowadays.
I carefully keep these thoughts from showing on my face as the old man continues to peer at me. “Well?” He asks, almost impatiently. “Will you help us and save all of existence?”
***
A. I agree to help him. If what he said is true, this Observer is the real enemy and my main target. I already know that the white ghosts are caused by the Observer’s flaws, and if they can aid me in fixing the problem… well, that’s my goal accomplished, isn’t it? There is no need to complicate matters and risk more damage to the fabric of reality. Of course, I only agree to help him save existence; the manner in which I do it will be up to me in the end.
B. I reject him. If they could compel me to do their bidding, I get the feeling they'd have already done it without talking. I don’t think the old man would have asked me this question if he could not tell if I was lying about my decision; he seems far too savvy for that. Let him do his worst – if they kill my consciousness, they will only provoke a reset which frees me, and if they hold me prisoner, they’re giving me time to find a way out of here.
When my fingers brush the shadow door, I feel them sink in. There is a slight, insistent tug, followed by a stronger one that makes my imaginary finger joints creak. Then, I am pulled in without being able to offer any resistance.
I hear one of the figures say, “Wow. I can’t believe he fell for that.”
***
When the darkness clears, I find myself looking at the sky. A sky that is pure white, without a hint of any blemish or imperfection. There appears to be a dim light and heat emanating from the sky somehow – it is not blinding or glaring to observe.
This seems familiar. It is not exactly the same as the world I visited once, however; instead of smooth grey buildings melted together in an unnatural hodgepodge of architecture, the structures here seem to be real. Concrete. I tap the floor I had been sitting on. Real concrete, from the feel of it. I seem to be on top of a skyscraper; multiple other towers stretch out before me, indicating that I am in a city of some sort. I do not recognize the skyline, however. When my eyes shift, quickly scanning the featureless heavens, I spot a single object that breaks the uniformity of the unnerving firmament above me: a moon. It is difficult to spot in the white sky, its own colour almost blending into the background. The shadowy craters are the only thing that distinguish it from its surroundings.
“This is a dull place, I must admit.”
I turn with a start, my observation of the moon rudely interrupted by the croaking, husky voice. In front of me must be the oldest man I have ever seen. He is wizened and bent over in his brown coat, clutching onto a black cane. The up-turned collar of the coat covers his ears and what is left of his wispy white hair straggling out a meagre existence on the sides of his head. Still, the wrinkles that line his face cannot disguise the glint of power in his eyes. This is a man that is used to getting what he wants.
With a quaking effort, he manages to bend forward even further in a grotesque bow, though he looks on the verge of toppling over just to attempt such a stunt.
“Welcome, young Senya, to the garden of the gods.”
“I thought you guys were big on the idea of nice chairs and tea,” I say. “This is a rather sparse reception.”
The old man peers at me with eyes clouded by age and snorts. “Cooper, right? He likes that sort of presentation. After so many years they have each developed quirks in their methods of dealing with the natives. Well, if that is what you want… I didn’t ask for you to appear on top of the building, you know.” He turns his back and beckons a crooked finger at me. “Come.”
I remember what the figure said just before I was deposited here. As the old man hobbles away, I concentrate on finding a way back. I don’t need to leave right now, but should I require an urgent exit…
Nothing. I cannot sense anything outside what I currently feel. I cannot even call upon my powers.
The old man stops and glances over his shoulder at me, his lips twisted into an unlikeable grin. At that moment, I understand that there is no escape, at least for now. There is nothing for me to do but to follow and hope I haven’t finally gotten myself into something over my head.
***
The bottom levels of the skyscraper turn out to be a shopping mall, judging from the items on display in the windows. The words adorning the signs and billboards are in a script I do not recognize, though they seem to share a very slight resemblance to Shinari Greek. Other than that, there are the usual collections of bags and clothes that seem to be the bulk of merchandise in such malls, and there are no signs of anything living other than me and the old man. I find myself in what looks like to be a pleasantly comfortable coffee house, a cup of steaming mocha in front of me and the old man perched arrogantly opposite me.
“This is a nice way to treat your prisoner.”
“No,” smiles the old man. “Not yet. You are still a guest for now.”
“Well, let’s hope I don’t do anything to revoke that status,” I wave. “By the way, where are the ones that brought me here? They are your flunkies, I presume?”
“Oh, I assume they are out and about. You might meet them, you might not. That is not important. And no, they are not my flunkies, Senya. They are my colleagues.”
“You seem to be a little bit old to be their colleague. None of them sounded or appeared like you, or are you disguising yourself?”
The old man shakes his head. “I am not capable of such a thing. What you see before you is what I am. Just an old man.” Even so, I have a strong feeling that ‘just an old man’ is probably what many of his foes thought just before he disposed of them. I settle back, trying to keep my composure.
“Why are you the one to explain things to me, then?”
“Because we are the most alike, you and I,” says the old man. “When you get right down to it, we are both humans caught in the games of the gods.”
We sit there, looking at each other in silence.
“Well?” asks the old man.
“Well what?” I ask in return.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I’m sure you have lots to tell me regardless of what I say. Go ahead and talk, and let me know when you’ve finished talking.”
The old man’s face creases up in a strange expression. His grin seems to be almost angry, and for an instant I think he is about to jump over the table and throttle me. Then, he sighs loudly.
“You may think I am not on your side, but I am. Very well, I will tell you what I know. Right, where shall I start…”
***
You are a part of the Great Idea. My colleagues call it the Idea of All Existence, but no matter what we name it, it has the same role. It observes reality, and in the process of observing it makes reality real. You already know that. Now, what you don’t know is that it is not God. At least, it is not a god that was there from the start; it is a creation, just like you or me. My colleagues created it as a project. They were facing a terrible crisis, certain extinction… I don’t know what it is as they no longer remember themselves, and apparently the IAE project was to be their trump card to overcome this crisis.
They could not save themselves, so they created a God to save them.
It did not work out like they hoped. The only ones saved were thirteen beings that had been physically closest to the Great Idea when it awoke, the ones that had been involved on the project as its custodians. Even then, they were reduced to shadows of their former selves. The rest of their people were effectively destroyed. I say effectively, because in its awakening it sought to execute its original instructions, which was to protect this world and its people. It did that by suspending the world from the flow of time. The process turned the residents of the world into echoes. Pointless fragments of thoughts.
From then on, the nature of reality changed, governed by the Great Idea and its whims. It is not a perfect God, not at all. You do know of the Unseen, right? Yes, I see that you know of them. The white ghosts that have fallen out of God’s sight. Some god. Hah. It would sit on its throne observing stupidly while all of us die slowly choking to death in white goo. Under its watch, the multiverse has stagnated. You might not know this, but there is no progress through the infinite universes; no life, no advances, except what we have cultivated in our own sandbox.
With my help, its former custodians have embarked on a mission to find a way out of this hell it has trapped them in. What began as an experiment out of boredom and curiosity would now be the sword by which we can strike back at the Great Idea. They need someone truly alive and living, like us – truly human - to shake their perception of their reality and show them what they really need to do.
***
“What they really need to do, is to kill the god that they made.” finishes the old man.
“What is so hard about that? They made it, didn’t they?”
“They have been denied access,” shrugs the old man. “I don’t know everything about that, but it seems that they were locked out when the Great Idea suddenly gained the idea of self-preservation.” I stare at the old man. I don’t trust him, and I’m not sure whether his story is the truth, a half-truth, or even entirely made-up. It seems plausible enough, but there are always other explanations.
“So, this is where I come in?” They must have been searching for ways to destroy their own creation for countless eons. That was what the games were for, eventually. The Master had implied that I was a piece that changed the game entirely... maybe even doing away with the need for a game at all. This is how.
The old man nods, grinning his toothless grin. “I am not sure how, but I know you can do it.”
He expects me to kill the Observer. I am about to laugh and call it a ridiculous idea, before I suddenly remember the room I had been in before coming here, where I had deleted an immortal from existence. Perhaps the supercomputer and its control panel was not just a figment of imagination created out of familiarity. Perhaps it was grounded in reality… well, for a given value of reality, which has really depreciated nowadays.
I carefully keep these thoughts from showing on my face as the old man continues to peer at me. “Well?” He asks, almost impatiently. “Will you help us and save all of existence?”
***
A. I agree to help him. If what he said is true, this Observer is the real enemy and my main target. I already know that the white ghosts are caused by the Observer’s flaws, and if they can aid me in fixing the problem… well, that’s my goal accomplished, isn’t it? There is no need to complicate matters and risk more damage to the fabric of reality. Of course, I only agree to help him save existence; the manner in which I do it will be up to me in the end.
B. I reject him. If they could compel me to do their bidding, I get the feeling they'd have already done it without talking. I don’t think the old man would have asked me this question if he could not tell if I was lying about my decision; he seems far too savvy for that. Let him do his worst – if they kill my consciousness, they will only provoke a reset which frees me, and if they hold me prisoner, they’re giving me time to find a way out of here.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
I'll set the deadline for this choice ahead of schedule to prevent any more misunderstandings then. Two days should be enough to discuss the implications. The price has already been paid; i.e. even if you escape after this, your absence will have affected the war. It won't be a good effect, but it doesn't mean you've already lost, so automatically giving up on that front for lost would be inadvisable. Then again, agreeing (or pretending to agree) gets you even closer to the root of all things, so it's a swift way of handling matters.
Last edited:
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
This smells like bullshit. Well, if they need someone who is truly human to strike at the Great Idea, why the fuck doesn't this guy do it? After all, he's human like us, so why would he need us?
Actually, I don't think he's lying about that part. In fact, he seems to be a very convincing, persuasive individual. Also, he seems very old, he's probably been around the Great Idea for a long, long time. Kinda reminds me of someone:
Okay, this last bit was metagaming, but his story is still inconsistent. The problem is that he's got us by the balls right now. We agree to ally with him, and we become a pawn in allowing the Masters to overtake the Great Idea, and tricking them will be extremely difficult in our position. If we refuse to play ball, we lose valuable months off the war effort and begin to suffer.
Might as well do as Diogenes Camna asks. It must end well, right?
A
A
Anabanana
Augur
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2012
- Messages
- 1,061
So, taking the story at face value for a moment...
This old man isn't one of the thirteen Masters, yet calls them his colleagues, and is human just like Senya? He's the winner of a previous "game", isn't he? The representative of a previous civilization that reached the center of their universe and got their wish. But that doesn't fit with how he describes the sandbox as something that he helped them start. Or perhaps they started playing around with creating universes, this guy somehow managed to find them on his own, and then gave them the idea of doing it in a more systematic basis.
I'm curious about how the Masters became "shadows of their former selves". Why were they saved because they were "physically closest"? Ah, probably because the Great Idea couldn't suspend time around itself, because it needed to keep functioning normally?
What happens after we kill the Great Idea? Do we become the new, better Great Idea, who can restore the Masters' Universe and see the Unseen? What happens at the moment the Great Idea stops observing? Won't that turn everything into goo?
This old man isn't one of the thirteen Masters, yet calls them his colleagues, and is human just like Senya? He's the winner of a previous "game", isn't he? The representative of a previous civilization that reached the center of their universe and got their wish. But that doesn't fit with how he describes the sandbox as something that he helped them start. Or perhaps they started playing around with creating universes, this guy somehow managed to find them on his own, and then gave them the idea of doing it in a more systematic basis.
I'm curious about how the Masters became "shadows of their former selves". Why were they saved because they were "physically closest"? Ah, probably because the Great Idea couldn't suspend time around itself, because it needed to keep functioning normally?
What happens after we kill the Great Idea? Do we become the new, better Great Idea, who can restore the Masters' Universe and see the Unseen? What happens at the moment the Great Idea stops observing? Won't that turn everything into goo?
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
Clearly, this Master hasn't been paying much attention to our previous choices...
As to the choice, I'll keep it simple for you bros:
DON'T. TRUST. DIO.
B
edit: unless we can lie. @treave, can we lie or change our mind later?
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
Yeah. You can still flop at the last minute and throw them all for a loop, though whether that will succeed or not is up in the air. As for murderizing the Observer and its aftermath, I forgot to throw in the old man saying that without it, reality would just snap back to its normal state, which doesn't require a 'god' to exist. Basically, he says it's consequence-free.
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
Bullshit. Assuming what he says is true, the Observer saved the masters by stopping time. That's why there is only stagnation now. If we restore the flow of time, then whatever disaster was about to happen will happen. Besides, I rather think a mind like Dio's is going to be plotting to BECOME god rather than simply destroy him.
In other words, Dio has been bullshitting/manipulating these guys for eons.
The Master of the "Masters".B is still my choice. FIRST we kill the Masters. THEN we kill the Observer. That has been my goal since first finding out about the Great Idea and I will not vary from it.
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
FYI, if we kill the Observer, then doesn't it stand to reason we'll be killing ourselves - or at the very least, the source of our power? If we do that, how exactly are we going to stop Dio from becoming the new observer and taking over the multi-verse or whatever?
Baltika9
Arcane
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2012
- Messages
- 9,611
Fuck, we're really at a tough crossroads here, but I don't think we're anywhere near fucked.
One the one hand, if we agree with Dio's plan, we get to go back and continue with our invasion plan, treave did say all is not yet lost. And now that we have intel on their superweapon, and their master manipulator faced the wrath of Windows Task Manager, we'll have a good chance.
Hell, maybe siding with Dickogenes Cuntda will give the Masters a reason to back us up in the war. Like weakening the Council through their Avatard, for instance.
On the other, if we stay in their Garden, I wonder how big of a (proverbial?) dump we can take on the place. Perhaps we can find a way to let the zombies in and kill off the Masters. Or perhaps we can gather a lot of secrets and dirty tricks around the place, find a way to fuck up the League's tech. After all, nothing has progressed through the endless cycles and all their brethren that got "saved" by the IAE are now floating bits and pieces of information. And if there's anything Senya understands well, it's information.
Hmm, very interesting decision indeed. I guess "tea and chess" isn't happening?
One the one hand, if we agree with Dio's plan, we get to go back and continue with our invasion plan, treave did say all is not yet lost. And now that we have intel on their superweapon, and their master manipulator faced the wrath of Windows Task Manager, we'll have a good chance.
Hell, maybe siding with Dickogenes Cuntda will give the Masters a reason to back us up in the war. Like weakening the Council through their Avatard, for instance.
On the other, if we stay in their Garden, I wonder how big of a (proverbial?) dump we can take on the place. Perhaps we can find a way to let the zombies in and kill off the Masters. Or perhaps we can gather a lot of secrets and dirty tricks around the place, find a way to fuck up the League's tech. After all, nothing has progressed through the endless cycles and all their brethren that got "saved" by the IAE are now floating bits and pieces of information. And if there's anything Senya understands well, it's information.
Hmm, very interesting decision indeed. I guess "tea and chess" isn't happening?
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
Tribulations of the Grand Marshal
Oran Kappa System. 27.09.4033
Sector Armadas Beta and Gamma begin to break off and retreat – this is the third clash in as many weeks. “Hold off on pursuit,” you order. “Harass the enemy fleet with focused barrages but do not move from your position.” In the first engagement, a considerable portion of the Imperial Legions and the Federation Fifth Fleet had eagerly surged forward to chase down their fleeing foes. It did not end well. It took another engagement for you and Adrahasis to have the measure of your foes; the third and just-concluded battle appeared to go rather decisively for your forces.
You were now roughly seven weeks away from your starting point of Tejat A. Taking Bainur had been difficult – you had been surprised by the presence of three League fortresses guarding the system. The initial battle had cost nearly ten percent of the fleet that had come along with you. There had been another problem too: in the aftermath, while the fleet was undertaking repairs at Bainur, Admiral Kadowaki of the Second gathered all of the ships under him and made a wormhole jump. You do not know where he went, but Sekhenun seems certain he has betrayed you.
“How many casualties?”
Adrahasis gives me the report, his face full of concern. “Our force strength is currently at 70% of when we started. The constant battle is taking its toll on the ships. The Federation vessels, in particular, aren’t made to go into battle so many times without servicing. On the bright side, Beta is down to 65%, while Gamma’s fighting force is now 43%.”
Beta is a problem – its commander is wily and a match for Adrahasis in space. The next time you met, you would have to try some more unorthodox tactics; at this rate, you would be bled to death before you reached the Carneus systems. The missing detachment that had gone along with Senya is sorely missed; you really could do with more firepower. Furthermore, they have the Jupiter bomb with them; this is your trump card against the Masters, and if it has gone missing…
A bleeping noise signals an incoming transmission – several.
Sekhenun raises her eyebrows as she reads the signals, and then turns to you with a glance that says, ‘you handle this one.’
Oh, bother.
***
The first to arrive is an immortal that had come onboard a Federation ship that identified itself as being from the Federation Second Fleet. A quick check of the database verifies their identity. The immortal herself is a rather striking lady, though clearly young and inexperienced. She bows before you as you hold court on the bridge of the flagship.
“Grand Marshal Ean,” she begins smoothly. “I am Mere Tarliss, here from the detachment under the command of Hoshikawa Senya. Before we begin, I should clarify my position: I am a defector from the League. Now, I have been sent to convey a message from Admiral Grimrock that we should rendezvous in Celtais system, three days away from here. Things have not been going well. We discovered the existence of an enemy superweapon more than six weeks ago, in Gelmark. Hoshikawa attempted a solo mission in his mech to destroy it, but he is lost. However, as it has not been deployed since then, I would assume he succeeded somehow.”
“Lost? What do you mean?”
“Well, we don’t know. At best he is captured, at worst…” She looks at you, as if challenging me to finish the sentence. The immortal appears to be telling the truth, but there is a veil around the deeper parts of her mind that you cannot penetrate. She appears to be stronger than she looks. You revise my opinion of the immortal.
Sekhenun speaks up. “Can’t they come to us?”
“They will arrive in Celtais exactly three days from now,” shrugs Mere. “It is the quickest way to meet up, unless you plan to stay in this system for another six days. If he does not see you at Celtais, their orders were to press directly ahead to Carneus Beta via the Beltais system, assuming that you are lost.”
***
The next to arrive is a message from the Star League’s ruling Council. It simply said that they had the pilots of the CF Anhur-Shu in their custody and would like to enter negotiations for their safe return, as well as for the resolution of this conflict. The place of negotiation, where the hostages would be returned, is Oran Iota, the system further up from where you are now. It would be a day’s travel via the slipspace drive.
“It’s probably a trap,” says Sekhenun.
“Everything’s a trap to you,” you reply.
“Of course. After you trapped me into helping you out of your little predicament against the godling, I’ve grown rather suspicious.” she laughs.
“You were always suspicious. How many times have you tricked me into aiding your cause anyway?” you retort lightly.
Adrahasis coughs. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but if we may proceed with deciding what to do next…”
The jump from Celtais to Beltais would take five days, and then another seven to get to Carneus Beta. From Oran Kappa, it would take a day to get to Oran Iota, then another eight days to reach Carneus Beta.
***
A. You will meet the Council for their proposed negotiations.
1. You send most of the fleet to Celtais in order to rendezvous with Admiral Grimrock.
2. You have most of the fleet come with you to Oran Iota as backup.
B. You will not meet the Council for their proposed negotiations. You will head to Celtais, rendezvous with Admiral Grimrock and strike at Carneus Beta from there.
C. If you are willing to scuttle all of the Federation ships at your disposal, you can perform a wormhole jump right into Carneus Beta. This will render all remaining black hole generator-powered ships useless, but you can bring what is left of your fleet directly into a surprise attack on the last League stronghold.
***
You also have two days for this choice. Of course, the choice for the previous update isn't closed yet, we still have a day left.
Oran Kappa System. 27.09.4033
Sector Armadas Beta and Gamma begin to break off and retreat – this is the third clash in as many weeks. “Hold off on pursuit,” you order. “Harass the enemy fleet with focused barrages but do not move from your position.” In the first engagement, a considerable portion of the Imperial Legions and the Federation Fifth Fleet had eagerly surged forward to chase down their fleeing foes. It did not end well. It took another engagement for you and Adrahasis to have the measure of your foes; the third and just-concluded battle appeared to go rather decisively for your forces.
You were now roughly seven weeks away from your starting point of Tejat A. Taking Bainur had been difficult – you had been surprised by the presence of three League fortresses guarding the system. The initial battle had cost nearly ten percent of the fleet that had come along with you. There had been another problem too: in the aftermath, while the fleet was undertaking repairs at Bainur, Admiral Kadowaki of the Second gathered all of the ships under him and made a wormhole jump. You do not know where he went, but Sekhenun seems certain he has betrayed you.
“How many casualties?”
Adrahasis gives me the report, his face full of concern. “Our force strength is currently at 70% of when we started. The constant battle is taking its toll on the ships. The Federation vessels, in particular, aren’t made to go into battle so many times without servicing. On the bright side, Beta is down to 65%, while Gamma’s fighting force is now 43%.”
Beta is a problem – its commander is wily and a match for Adrahasis in space. The next time you met, you would have to try some more unorthodox tactics; at this rate, you would be bled to death before you reached the Carneus systems. The missing detachment that had gone along with Senya is sorely missed; you really could do with more firepower. Furthermore, they have the Jupiter bomb with them; this is your trump card against the Masters, and if it has gone missing…
A bleeping noise signals an incoming transmission – several.
Sekhenun raises her eyebrows as she reads the signals, and then turns to you with a glance that says, ‘you handle this one.’
Oh, bother.
***
The first to arrive is an immortal that had come onboard a Federation ship that identified itself as being from the Federation Second Fleet. A quick check of the database verifies their identity. The immortal herself is a rather striking lady, though clearly young and inexperienced. She bows before you as you hold court on the bridge of the flagship.
“Grand Marshal Ean,” she begins smoothly. “I am Mere Tarliss, here from the detachment under the command of Hoshikawa Senya. Before we begin, I should clarify my position: I am a defector from the League. Now, I have been sent to convey a message from Admiral Grimrock that we should rendezvous in Celtais system, three days away from here. Things have not been going well. We discovered the existence of an enemy superweapon more than six weeks ago, in Gelmark. Hoshikawa attempted a solo mission in his mech to destroy it, but he is lost. However, as it has not been deployed since then, I would assume he succeeded somehow.”
“Lost? What do you mean?”
“Well, we don’t know. At best he is captured, at worst…” She looks at you, as if challenging me to finish the sentence. The immortal appears to be telling the truth, but there is a veil around the deeper parts of her mind that you cannot penetrate. She appears to be stronger than she looks. You revise my opinion of the immortal.
Sekhenun speaks up. “Can’t they come to us?”
“They will arrive in Celtais exactly three days from now,” shrugs Mere. “It is the quickest way to meet up, unless you plan to stay in this system for another six days. If he does not see you at Celtais, their orders were to press directly ahead to Carneus Beta via the Beltais system, assuming that you are lost.”
***
The next to arrive is a message from the Star League’s ruling Council. It simply said that they had the pilots of the CF Anhur-Shu in their custody and would like to enter negotiations for their safe return, as well as for the resolution of this conflict. The place of negotiation, where the hostages would be returned, is Oran Iota, the system further up from where you are now. It would be a day’s travel via the slipspace drive.
“It’s probably a trap,” says Sekhenun.
“Everything’s a trap to you,” you reply.
“Of course. After you trapped me into helping you out of your little predicament against the godling, I’ve grown rather suspicious.” she laughs.
“You were always suspicious. How many times have you tricked me into aiding your cause anyway?” you retort lightly.
Adrahasis coughs. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but if we may proceed with deciding what to do next…”
The jump from Celtais to Beltais would take five days, and then another seven to get to Carneus Beta. From Oran Kappa, it would take a day to get to Oran Iota, then another eight days to reach Carneus Beta.
***
A. You will meet the Council for their proposed negotiations.
1. You send most of the fleet to Celtais in order to rendezvous with Admiral Grimrock.
2. You have most of the fleet come with you to Oran Iota as backup.
B. You will not meet the Council for their proposed negotiations. You will head to Celtais, rendezvous with Admiral Grimrock and strike at Carneus Beta from there.
C. If you are willing to scuttle all of the Federation ships at your disposal, you can perform a wormhole jump right into Carneus Beta. This will render all remaining black hole generator-powered ships useless, but you can bring what is left of your fleet directly into a surprise attack on the last League stronghold.
***
You also have two days for this choice. Of course, the choice for the previous update isn't closed yet, we still have a day left.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
I'll use this post as a tally for the votes so far:
TOME - A , A2
Storyfag - A , B
Lambchop19 - A , C
Anabanana - B , ?
Kipeci - B , C
Jester - A , B
Esquilax - B , B
Azira - B , B
The Brazilian Slaughter - B , B
ScubaV - A , B
Tigranes - B , B
Baltika9 - B , ?
Expect the two plotlines to run concurrently for now. Choices made for Senya might influence what happens in Ean's route, and vice versa, but don't assume they are happening exactly at the same time since Senya is currently in a 'timeless' place. Things could get weird.
TOME - A , A2
Storyfag - A , B
Lambchop19 - A , C
Anabanana - B , ?
Kipeci - B , C
Jester - A , B
Esquilax - B , B
Azira - B , B
The Brazilian Slaughter - B , B
ScubaV - A , B
Tigranes - B , B
Baltika9 - B , ?
Expect the two plotlines to run concurrently for now. Choices made for Senya might influence what happens in Ean's route, and vice versa, but don't assume they are happening exactly at the same time since Senya is currently in a 'timeless' place. Things could get weird.
Last edited:
Mere isn't Shulgi.
Of course, there's also the Avatar running around and stirring shit up for both us and the League. Would it take on the appearence of Mere, I wonder?
B for Ean's choice (woohoo, we're playing Ean again!). I wonder what has happened to Senya's strikeforce, that Grimrock decided to use a defector as his envoy.
As an Amazon Associate, rpgcodex.net earns from qualifying purchases.