October 10, 2015

New line of thinking

So I am beginning to work on roleplaying once again, and I have decided to build my own world with my own rules so there is no way my players can know more than I do.  But I have decided I do not want them to be locals.  As such I have spent the better part of the day working on a story that I hope to continue writing as the game goes on.

Please take a few minutes to read this and either post or privately send me feedback, what you like, what you don't, and most importantly I need help on making sure that it is flowing nicely.  It goes without saying that my Orks are going to be a big part of this, being the mutants mentioned in the opening story here.  In fact, other than the chaos marines, I have a part for each of my 40K miniatures.

So here is the opening story the cast will hear.


Thunder boomed across a cloudless sky, drawing the eyes of the locals to the heavens. Their world darkened as the fiery wreckage of a gigantic space craft passed overhead. An unnatural shower began to drop from the atmospheric changes the vehicle created, the first precipitation in the desert for over a decade. The inhabitants ran for cover as the acidic rainfall of chemical fuel burnt holes into clothing and skin.

Adrian Corporation’s colonial transport Anubis came apart as it fell out of orbit. Several of the factory ships released before the main ship entered the atmosphere, automatic rockets thrusting them into a low stationary orbit. Along with the factory ships, the planetary communications hub also found itself in low orbit, stat-net satellites shooting from it at regular intervals. Those few clever enough to reach one of these vessels, found themselves trapped aboard them, the shuttles meant to ferry crew and supplies back and forth, burning up aboard Anubis.

Base craft and Cryo-Saviors littered the sky in the last minutes of the ships decent to the planet. Most crewmen who were unable to reach the Saviors in time were lucky enough to die as the atmosphere dissolved around them. Many that remained died screaming in agony as the fires of re-entry seared their flesh.

The drill head tips of the Savior pods spun up before they even reached the planet’s surface, preparing to bore deep into the core. Adrian Corporation had created their pods to dig deep, protecting the contents until rescue parties could be dispatched. Several pods landed wrong, the augers finding no earth to make purchase.

The Base craft fanned out, spreading themselves as far as their after burners allowed within the atmosphere. These were as large as football fields, each meant to be the governing hubs of the new colony. Stuffed with building materials, technology, weapons and supplies, they were the cities waiting to be assembled. To the local abandoned on this rock, they were gold mines.

Engines revved and dust shot up in plumes behind the custom built trucks and buggies of the local scavengers. They rushed to the pods and larger pieces of debris, knowing the value of any metal scrap unfortunate enough to find this world. But the scrap paled in comparison to the cache of goods that would be stored along with the colonists jettisoned from the dying vessel.

As they slept in stasis, the population meant for Rodiren had no clue of the fate that awaited them. Many passengers of the Cryo-Saviors lucky enough to be found by the scavengers died painlessly in their frozen slumber, taking a knife to the skull, neck or heart. Those found by wandering bands of mutants fared far worse. Yanked back into consciousness as the mutated cannibals ripped into their flesh, their screams and sobs were lost on the creatures that consumed them.

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