Author: <span class="vcard">Pól</span>

Befriend the Tumor

Like many care-givers, Roz turned out to be a terrible patient. Not only did she seem to have a natural resistance to the gharolan, but her parasite seemed to have gotten the word that extinction was on the menu, and by the time the whine of the Impossible Blade droned in their ears, a greenish…


Melting Pot

The Respite contracted in on itself with the exertion of the Tech’s power. The walls became tumbling blocks and stairs and passes, all shifting, spreading, moving into and out of one another simultaneously. Hasver and Shambo wisely elected to scram through the TransMat to the recovery creche and check the device for problems. While Hasver…


Turnabout is Fair Trade

The Chirani visitor arrives on a precarious floating inverted orange cone. It offers messages of alleigance, warns of Network hazards, and is placidly infuriating. Takir escorts the creature through the massive vault doors with Roz and into the Temple where the similarly-infuriating Devotee shines a benevolent lavendar uselessness upon the whole situation. After some back…


Surgical Betrayal

Wild-eyed, Shambo staggered into the networking pit where the group of them had made beds amid the cables and synth detritus. “I think I can wrangle sonic weapons out of the Watcher, we can get the Master to barf out a Hasver, then we’ll take out the Tech on our way out and high-tail it…


Out of the Hasver and into the Fire

Amidst the Fire The complex that houses the multi-state creatures self-identifying as Erulians (and other-identifying as freakish monster brains with a spine tail secretly made of fire?) is built like a snowflake or similar recursive fractal structure. The central room is host to a terrible fungus that has fed on the energies of the machines…


Into the Pit

Road from Barrow-Town met a Necromancer named Avinda; skimpy clothes, toxodon mount – you know the type told them she’d been looking for a way into the land of the dead – some unfinished business with her lover (who lurked in her shadow according to Takir). after a friend chat, she offered them a code…


Thin Ends and Floating

The thin finger of the Tine led them up below a place west of Uxphon called Scorpion’s Rest. Somewhere up north, the Baron who in some way started this whole mess had been marshaling troops for the Amber Pope’s war on Gaian heresy and aggression. With the boat engine all silent and the bow bumpers…


Questioning the Dawn

The time just before night begins to turn into morning. The old boat chuffs its way up the broad steady mass of the Tithe, slowly but surely. An exhausted Frund has retired below, leaving one of his passengers to watch the helm– Takir. He sits pensively, contemplating the yellow-orange world revealed by the boat’s sodium…


Up. River.

Motoring through the morning mist with Frund, the chutter and thunk of his boat is a comfort, but a prickly reminder of the thrumming down in the dark and crushing sea, in that … Lair. The mist peeled back eventually, and the warm blue sky peered down at them, as though it were the most…


Into the Light

The return to the surface was a hazy struggle of darkness and water that seemed upset with them and not quite the sort of water they were used to. At the end, the whale was nearby with its castle, and the red men with their blocky bodies and stubby hands were pulling them onto one…