Proposed STGOD Setting.

[Thirdfain]

Hah! Raxmei, I love it.

[Duckie]

Message From The System:
Translation Complete. Accuracy: 67%.
Reason: 'Idiomatic Expressions of Religious Nature' detected in high quantities.

These are the Beginning Times.
Before were the End Times.
The People cried
"Surely The End of All is upon us!"
But it was not.
The Emperor saved us.

We are the Inheritors.
Our Mothers and their Mothers
A countless Parade of Ancestors
Lived in Darkness,
Now we live in the Light.
A New Age has dawned.
The Ideal Children of the World
Awaken Once More
And the Manifest Destiny
Decreed by the Gods
Realized by the Emperor
Accepted by the People
Enforced by the Warriors
Shall be made Whole.
The World Trembles.

This Is Written. It Is Just And Righteous.


Space. The cold, dark embrace of the Sky. Nature abhorrs it. Fate ignores yet encompasses the All-Sky. Time shall some day unite with Death to kill the All-Sky, but that is long off.

The only God that turns now to Space is War, and His talons shall never slake their thirst for blood. So we build.

A ship, insignificant in the vast darkness, stands docked to a construction yard. The ship's long, silver exterior is itself vastly greater than the figures before it. Cruiser 38 is no longer to be. It will be reborn as something new.

One of the six Khar present speaks. "I give your name in the name of Death, and you shall be known as Pir-Eq-Rotaresivi. I give your name in the name of Time, and you shall be known as Starm Lybar-O-Skeni. I give your name ..."

The chant continues through all of the Gods. The representative of Nevari-Clan Sigefr approaches, her carapace hardly more visible than the All-Sky itself.

"The naming has completed. Representative of Clan Sigefr, administer your blessings to the ship as you feel nescessary."

The Child of Gephret administers his blessings in the secret tongue of their people. It is incomprehensable to the others present, but she gives a partial translation to the Khar. The ship shall be known in its eighth name as Ratatis-Apakna, [The One Who] Judges Without Mercy.

The representative of the Imperial Court bows his head and speaks.

"I decree that in the two-hundred-fifty-sixth day, in the one-thousand-and-fourth year of Our Emperor and his glorious line's reign, that this ship shall be launched with its names and honors intact. May its crew live a hundred years and its glories forever."

The ship detaches. The delegation leaves. There are many construction yards aboard the station, and times are fast now that the Tertiz-Oeq-Nyveiz, the Gates of Heaven, are now open.

[Pcm979]

I'm expressing cautious interest, although it seems my original idea of A.I.s has been rendered somewhat unoriginal by now. I'll tinker and get back to you.

[Raxmei]

There is more than one viable implementation of AI. Beowulf is running a small set of supercomputer AIs purpose-built for specific aspects of warfighting. The Culture, Berzerkers, Replicators, Mudd's Women, even Skynet are notably different from such a setup.

[Thirdfain]

Mad Science: The Technology of Bas-Lag

What is today called the Ghosthead Empire ruled vast stretches of the Galaxy in the distant past. When galactic society collapsed in the final wars, the Ghosthead fell with it (or perhaps thanks to it.) In these regions where the Ghosthead stood, ancient ruins still remain. The influence of the Ghosthead, however, is more than simply physical. The Ghosthead made usage of technology which fooled with the very nature of reality, and the scars and stains left upon the fabric of reality by their works last to today, and will last until the universe has ended.

Bas-Lag has been theorized to be one of three things. Some say it was once the capital of the Ghosthead Empire, and that is the reason it is so infected with their bizzare creations, and that is the reason that the laws of reality are so skewed in that region. Others say it was the sight of some vast battle between the Ghosthead and a great enemy- these people cite the Scar, where the Swollen Ocean is literally cracked, a great canyon with walls of water which refuses to fill the void which plunges down to the ocean floor, as a remnant of some terrible weapon. Finally, some say that Bas-Lag was nothing more than a garbage planet, a place where the unimaginable laboratories of the Ghosthead dumped their unreal failed creations. Either way, the laws of physics are not completely normal on Bas-Lag, allowing the creation of devices and the invention of branches of science which are unapproachable to most.

Natural Philosophy
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic
-Arthur C. Clark

The Ghosthead were largely careful in their reconstruction of the universes' laws, and took efforts to merely add new possibilities without destroying old ones. Essentially, the bizzarre changes to the possible came without unravelling more conventional physics and the science man has always used to exploit it. New Crobuzon's researchers have learned much about the world, and understant principles of hyperspace physics, nuclear and fusion power generation, and are generally only a couple centuries behind the rest of the galaxy in terms of what they call "Natural Philosophy," the study of the rational world, and in some fields are neck and neck with, if not ahead, the rest of the galaxy.

Thaumaturgy
Any sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from technology
- Arben C. Whitworth, Doctor of Thaumaturgy

The Thaum, a unit of energy so mutable and controllable that a human being can generate it and manipulate it with nothing more than his body and intellect. The Ghosthead left Bas-Lag with techniques and devices for the manipulation of Thaums, and the science of this manipulation is Thaumaturgy. The development of devices which can distill Thaums from sources as diverse as human sacrifice, the motion of continents, and even the position of stars in the sky make this a powerful tool in the hands of it's adherents. Thaumaturgy is a science on Bas-Lag and Crobuzon's colonies, and it's usage is every day, in the form of everything from charms against mold growth to the complex, fusion-powered Sunlance weapons mounted on the largest warships in the Navy.

The Torque
That's where they dropped the colourbomb in 1545. That's what they said put an end to the Pirate Wars, but to be honest with you, Yag, they'd been over for a year before that. The colourbomb wasn't to destroy the city, it was to hide what the Torquebombs had done to it...
-Isaac der Grimnebulin

Those wise in Thaumaturgy and natural philosophy can learn how to apply pressure at a 90-degree angle to the fabric of reality. The Torque is the force that is released by this event, in what is known as an uncontrolled Torque reaction. Weapons based on this crude technique are incredibly dangerous, both to their targets and their users. There are remnants of cities on Bas-Lag which are ringed in fortifications, bunkers, walls and minefields. Most of the defenses point in. Inside, the bastard children of steam-engines and cockroaches devour slithering, multilimbed fish people who were once both the inhabitants of the city's fish-ponds and their tenders.
The complete un-reality which uncontrolled Torque weapons create is long-lasting, devastating, and while not 100% lethal, leaves nothing that can be even remotely considered human.
The Torque can be controlled, however. It is thanks to this that New Crobuzon can sail the aether at superluminal speeds. The Teardrive uses principles of The Torque to send ships into otherworldly shortcuts, allowing them to defeat the light barrier. Torque Reactors sit beneath layers of lead sheets scribed with powerful wards, activated for brief and chaotic minutes to provide a vessel with extra power during combat. A ship seriously damaged while it's Torque Reactor is operating will shortly become something from the most hideous nightmares.
Finally, there is the colourbomb. A release of The Torque can be controlled, and then fed back in on itself to slam closed the rift in truth and reality, releasing a wash of pure energy. The effect is extremely destructive, and results in no lasting effects worse than powerful conventional radiation.

Crisis Energy
We've done it, Yag! Cheap, free energy for everyone. Thanks for the help, old boy- I'll be rich!
-Isaac der Grimnebulin, last words.

Orderly constructs tend to degenerate towards chaos. Yet, orderly constructs continue to appear and prosper across the universe. Therefor, there must be a force reacting against entropy, one which causes orderly constructs to survive. This is the basic idea behind Crisis Theory. The Crisis Engine is the outgrowth of this seemingly absurd theory. By placing a complex object in constant crisis, it releases a steady stream of safe, clean thaumaturgical and elyctrical energy. This is the primary energy source of most Crobuzoner warships, as it has low fuel requirements and is very safe. However, Crisis Engines are almost impossible to repair outside of a drydock, thanks to their incredibly complex systems.

Probability Mining
This is a Might Sword- not as in 'strong,' but as in 'maybe.'
- Uther Doul

Timelines are said to continually split, each possible reaction generating a myriad of alternate universes where each choice is played out in all it's probable courses. The Ghosthead made extensive use of probability mining- some theorize that all their tampering with the fabric of reality was to allow this affect to be achieved. Essentially, it is possible to sift through the future possibilities and chose one at your leisure. The art is barely understood by the natural philosophers, physicists, and thaumaturges of New Crobuzon, but some extremely unreliable and short-term uses have been discovered. One is the might missile, which erupts into a thousand possible attack trajectories for a few fractions of a second before impact, making up for Crobuzoner weakness in ECCM technology by rendering the missile a difficult target for point defense weapons. It is clear, however, that the Ghosthead had far more incredible goals in mind for probability mining.

Biothaumaturgy
For the charge of murder, M. Candide, the Court and the Magistry sentences you to Remaking in the image of your sin. You will sport the arms of your dead child on your brow from now till the end of your days. You will be reminded by every mirror or pool of water of your despicable crime.
- Magister Michal Swade

The combination of scientific know-how and thaumaturgy that is the art of the Biothaumaturge has given Crobuzon some of it's greatest improvements to the quality of life of it's citizens along with some of the most despicable lows to which the Empire has sunk. On one hand, even fatal wounds can almost always be treated with the application of enough time and energy (though the costs in both for the most serious wounds mean that by and large only the wealthy get to enjoy it.) On the other hand, Remaking is practiced with biothaumaturgy. The grotesquely deformed slave-caste of Crobuzon recieves it's mark at the hands of the Magistry's punishment technicians.
The technology's use extends to military applications. Some Remade 'conscripts' are rebuilt into fearsome fighting machines. Limited Remaking is extended to many to allow direct interface with cogitators and difference engines, and the elite of the Imperial Marines and Militia have Remade bodies, improved to allow interaction with powered armor and weapons systems.

[Ford Prefect]

Thirdfain, that's bloody brilliant.

[Thirdfain]

Thirdfain, that's bloody brilliant.

And stolen wholeheartedly from the excellent works of China Mieville. Not an idea on that page is wholly original. I am simply expanding and embellishing on the ideas this fantastic steampunk author has created.

I highly recommend his three works on this topic so far- "Perdido Street Station," "The Scar," and "Iron Council."

[Nephtys]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets?

[Companion Cube]

The Lh'owon Provisional Government

History
Judging by records preserved from the halcyon days of the Pfhor Empire by LPG historians, the Pfhor once ruled over a domain of some four thousand systems, extending their control through the armed millions of the Conditioned Ranks, slave soldiers who were hurled into battle in advance of the main Pfhor strike forces.

Little more is known of the Empire, though it can be confirmed that worship of the Great Mother was commonplace, and the caste system, established roughly ten thousand years previously, had been enforced since before the Pfhor escaped their planet's weak gravity.

When intergalactic society as a whole collapsed, the Pfhor Empire likewise folded, the victim of a massive slave uprising, possibly orchestrated from within the Empire. Species such as the Nakh, S'Pht and Drinniol, who had been spread throughout the galaxy in service to the Pfhor, now turned on their masters in often hopeless battles, managing to claim dozens of worlds and stretch the Pfhor Navy, already dealing with hostile aliens, beyond breaking point. Eventually, the Empire as a whole disintegrated into feuding fiefdoms and alliances, deprived of leadership following a messy coup on Pfhor Prime.

As new and successful species began to encroach upon the territory of the Pfhor, seed-ships with rudimentary personality constructs controlling them were launched to the furthest reaches of the Empire and beyond, hopefully to reestablish Pfhor society and ensure, at least, the continuance of the species.

The Imperials would be spinning in their graves if they could see the LPG. One of the robotic evacuation ships arrived in the Lh'owon system, a former outpost of the Pfhor Empire, and moved into orbit above the third (inhabitable) planet of the same name. The embryonic Pfhor onboard were gestated and then indoctrinated by the onboard personality construct, whose systems are preserved in the current LPG's capitol building. Later generations were both cloned onboard the ship and produced naturally, and within a few hundred years a significant Pfhor presence had extended over the entire planet. The Provisional Government was originally formed as a temporary measure, but the name has become a joke over the millenia. (The Pfhor word "provisional" shares etymological roots with the word "rule", so most Pfhor are not particularly aware of the irony.)

Over thousands of years, reaction-drive ships colonised the Pfhor system, setting up additional habitats and colonies, both in space and on some of the small moons orbiting either of the system's gas giants. Nations were established, wars were fought, and eventually the entire Pfhor population were brought once more under the aegis of the LPG, many of the former independant powers becoming semi-autonomous states within the greater whole.

Eventually, Pfhor scientists were successful in engineering a functional hyperdrive. The first prototype managed a trip to the nearest star, and returned intact and with valuable data. The LPG immediately increased its involvement in the project, and eagerly pushed the Tacted science teams to scale up the first model into larger, mass-produceable marques. Further tests continued, until the hyperdrive-capable K'Fiva departed the Lh'owon system, carrying several dozen research craft and small warships. By this time, the retrofitting of hyperdrives to previous designs was underway, a process that would take months, if not years, even with the Lh'owon system's state of industrialisation.

Government
The Lh'owon Provisional Government, or LPG, was initially established as a ruling council of senior refugees following the turbulent years after the evacuation ship's arrival in the Lh'owon system. Over time, it has grown into a parliamentary democracy. The parliament, or Plenum, is the legislative body of the LPG and consists of two bodies; the Upper Tier and the Federal Assembly. In the Federal Assembly, each individual territory (planet, station, colony, or industrial sodality) possesses a number of seats proportionate to its population. Within the Upper Tier, only Lh'owon 3 and the largest four habitats are represented, each with an equal number of seats.

Members of the Plenum are elected by the Gifted population of their respective territories. This is a frequent cause of agitation on the part of Unheard activists, who are tired of being denied enfranchisement.

Economy
Capitalism. Major corporations exist outside the direct control of the Pfhor LPG, though some corporate alliances control sufficient territory and resources to merit their own representation in the Plenum.

Military
The Pfhor military is divided between two components; the Summed Forces, and the Aggressor Squadrons. The Summed Forces are a combination of a police force and the national guard, whilst the Aggressor Squadrons are outfitted to suppress dissent in outlying territories, and to theoretically launch counterattacks against hostile alien incursions into LPG space.

Common ideologies/religion
Pfhor society is divided along Caste lines, which, over a period of over ten thousand years, has become firmly engrained in Pfhor social behavior and thought. The population is divided between the Unheard, the lower-class Pfhor who form the majority of the population and laboring populace, and the Gifted, who have historically been the species' administrators, physicians, scientists, priests, and politicians.

The principal Pfhor deity, whose worship survives today in a limited form, is the Great Mother. Held to have created the universe and molded the Pfhor into Her own image, generations of compromise between the political and religious leaders of the old Pfhor Empire gradually eroded support for the Great Mother Cult as the state religion, and fervent belief is seen as synonymous with deviant behaviour in the present Provisional Government.

Physiology
Adult Pfhor are roughly 2.5 metres tall, a legacy of Pfhor Prime's low gravity. Possessing digitigrade legs with two broad toes and a long dewclaw protruding from mid-calf, the Pfhor have an appearance hovering roughly between bird-like and insectoid. Appearing skeletally thin by human standards, Pfhor typically mass slightly more than an adult human. They possess two arms, terminating in four-fingered hands with opposable thumbs. Pfhor of the Unheard caste generally have three eyes, arranged in a trianglular pattern, with the first two in the familar humanoid positions and the third in the "forehead" position. A "head-tail" is also present, containing a large number of glands which play a part in Pfhor mating behavior and social conduct. Pfhor starship captains, generally of the Tacted caste (part of the Gifted caste), often have genofixed control glands implanted in their head-tails to speed interface with their vessel.

The other, much smaller, portion of the Pfhor population are the members of the Gifted caste. These Pfhor are largely similar to the bulk of the population, but possess seven eyes, with three arranged on either side of the head and a single, much larger, eye in the forehead position. Their skulls are also shaped differently, with head-tails held partially erect, as opposed to the loose appendages found on the Unheard. These distinct morphological features are the result of thousands of years of segregation between the ruling (Gifted) caste, and the Unheard. With interbreeding between the classes strictly forbidden, the often different standards of living, coupled with genetic manipulation to some degree, resulted in a process of sympatric speciation whereby the Gifted gradually became morphologically distinct from the Unheard, and the two castes eventually ceased to be able to produce fertile offspring. By the time of the Pfhor Empire's collapse, the two castes had become two different species.

[Thirdfain]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets? Razz

Objection to form. The Parliamentary Empire of Crobuzon is both a magical nation AND an old fashioned battleship fleet.

[Beowulf]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets? Razz

Objection to form. The Parliamentary Empire of Crobuzon is both a magical nation AND an old fashioned battleship fleet.

Similar objection. The Collective is both a mysterious shadowy force as well as a old fashioned battleship fleet.

[Nephtys]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets? Razz

Objection to form. The Parliamentary Empire of Crobuzon is both a magical nation AND an old fashioned battleship fleet.

Similar objection. The Collective is both a mysterious shadowy force as well as a old fashioned battleship fleet.

Oh well. At least we don't have any space elves.

...wait a sec........

[Raxmei]

The Freehold also looks like a battleship fleet from what I can tell. Hey, we have space orcs and space elves in the same setting. I didn't make the connection until now.

[Nephtys]

The Freehold also looks like a battleship fleet from what I can tell. Hey, we have space orcs and space elves in the same setting. I didn't make the connection until now.

What we need are space Dwarves now. Space dwarves with ENERGY RIFLES.

[DesertFly]

Don't forget the (slightly) mysterious and (mostly) shadowy ninjas.

------------------------------------

History
Few have heard of the homeworld of the Concordance of Fellows. Not because they have done everything within their power to keep such knowledge from the galaxy at large, but rather because their order began on a mildly successful world of a marginally successful empire (at least, it was marginally successful until it was wiped from the galaxy by a moderately successful empire.)

The Concordance began as a group of students at the most exclusive university in the capitol city of Raxis Prime. Unfortunately, this university was founded upon the principles of the most popular religion at the time, a faith which frowned upon such staples of college life as drinking.

In order to fulfill their need for controlled substances, a group of friends would meet late at night in the common room of their dormitory and plan ways to sneek off campus and acquire booze. To keep the true nature of their activities secret, they took the name "The Concordance of Fellows Devoted to Pleasurable and Honorable Activities, Enabled By and Through the Guiding Principles Set Down in the University's Charter, and Commited to Good Deeds and Academic Prowess." This was sure to confuse even the most inquisitive of deans. Over time, as new classes entered and old classes graduated, the group members shortened the name to the more manageable "Concordance of Fellows,"

The Concordance was quick to discover the value of stealth and bribery in obtaining liquor, and, over many succesive years of students, the Fellows perfected these skills to an artform. Many of the members carried these skills over to life after college, and discovered that there were always people looking for some incriminating evidence to be collected, or an official's palms greased.

Centuries came and went. The empire which protected Raxis Prime withdrew its forces closer to its throneworld as attacks dwindled its military. With its fleets went the best and brightest of many worlds, including Raxis Prime, to defend the empire. Raxis was forgotten, guilty of no more than not being important enough to defend. It was also not important enough to attack, and the planet sunk into obscurity.

The Concordance, however, was not as willing as its home to sink into the mists of time. By this time, the society had grown to thousands of members, and its fingers reached into every corner of government and commerce. Over the centuries, the skill sets of its membership had grown from the original stealth and bribery to extortion, theft, assasination, and overall thugishness. The leadership of the group gathered what members would accompany them and set off for the stars, reasoning that the galaxy at large could use their skills in this time of chaos.

At first they operated openly, advertising their services at every major spaceport. Business was fair, but they had nothing special to offer the galaxy. Rulers saw them as nothing but another group of mercenaries to be used as cannon fodder in the innumerable conflicts that flared across the galaxy. Incompetent leadership on the part of the Concordance saw them taking missions for which they were not suited, and their membership was almost totally decimated within a standard year of their entry into galactic affairs.

A junior member in the group saw the errors of his superiors' ways, and, one by one, they came to see the errors also. Unfortunately for them, their revelations only came during their death throes, as Drend Ratsun killed each one of them in their beds over the course of one fateful night.

With the incompetent leadership disposed of, Drend set himself up as the First Intelligencer of the Concordance, and steered his fellow Fellows onto a new path. Their true calling was stealth, and with his enlightened leadership they rediscovered this. They took their home ship and jumped into open space, far from any star. This became their base, from which they undertook raids and small missions, merely biding their time. One day the galaxy would again be ready for the services they had to offer. They would be ready.

[Ford Prefect]

The Freehold also looks like a battleship fleet from what I can tell. Hey, we have space orcs and space elves in the same setting. I didn't make the connection until now.

What we need are space Dwarves now. Space dwarves with ENERGY RIFLES.

Don't tempt me.

[Dahak]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets? Razz

Objection to form. The Parliamentary Empire of Crobuzon is both a magical nation AND an old fashioned battleship fleet.

Yes, me nation also likes big battleships...

[Duckie]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets?

Missed me, unless the Religious Fundamentalism of the Khar got them mistaken for a Magical Nation. As I'd like to give myself airs here and cite the worst parts of the British Empire and Imperial Japan as some of my influences, you can rest assured that the Battleships of the Khar will be large and filled to the brim with guns. Then we'll mount towers above the brim and fill those with smaller guns, too. And cram some more anywhere else there's room.

[Historical Note: Naturally, it makes little sense to have eight names for a ship at once from a military logistical perspective. All ships are known in military communiques by serial number. Alien races are expected to use the Sigefr name so as not to profane the Holy Tongue of the Khar with using it. Khar Names for the ships depend on the actual status of the ship for use. Death's Name, for instance, is used on ships that have been destroyed. War's Name is the common name of the ship to all Khar during a time of war. [...] ]
--The Ships of the Khar Imperium by Djein-Eq-Rytyar

[Glimmervoid]

The Freehold also looks like a battleship fleet from what I can tell. Hey, we have space orcs and space elves in the same setting. I didn't make the connection until now.

What we need are space Dwarves now. Space dwarves with ENERGY RIFLES.

Well my race is 3 foot high but it is covered in fur (think a ball of fur with legs and arms) so the height is were the resemblance ends. Space Librarians will rule this galaxy. And they do have energy rifles.

[Academia Nut]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets?

Guilty as charged, but I think the other psuedo-piraty nation is more of a collection of merchantmen and traders, so as far I can see I'm the only actual straight up "we openly admit it" pirate nation.

And I stole half my stuff from Warhammer 40k too

[Dahak]

*Might as well add a bit magic of my space elves. Fear them *

The Magic of the Falau'un

The origin of Falau'un magic has been lost in the ages. For modern Falau'un it has always been there and part of them. Most have (willfully) forgotten that in ancient times the magic users were a small minority. This had changed, or course, with the Extermination, that saw the extermination of all non-magic Falau'un in a long and bloody war that lasted for a century.

Over the centuries, science and technology emerged. This did not end the presence of magic in the society, it merely changed it. Technology and magic fused Scientist have tried to explain magic using their knowledge of the universe, quantum mechanics being the current idea of the day, but the results are far from satisfying. Magic remains magical and defies logial reason.

Magic can be shortly described as imposition of ones will on the universe through the power of the mind. No special resource or energy is required. A magicker imagines the changes he wants to apply, say create fire or move an object, and then concentrates on this task. There are no spells, no spoken components, tokens - only the mind and the universe. His mind interfaces with the universal strata underlying everything and changes the universe so that his imagination becomes reality. This interface is not calm and smooth. It more resembles a lake during a fierce storm. It requires experience, and raw power of talent, to bring order to this chaos and connect to the strata. The calmer the connection, the more the magicker can do. Incidentally, this is one of the few regions where experience will never be able to make up for sheer talent and power. An ancient magicker, which has mastered all the subtleties of the area but has no strong inborn talent will more often than not loose to a novice who simply has the raw power behind his talent.

Falau'un magic is not strictly seperated into "schools" or areas. There are houses that specialise in different areas, due to tradition or choice, but essentially all magic is open to - and used by - everyone.

Several areas can be roughly defined, based on the results. But in essence they are without meaning for the true magicker, whatever the magicker can imagine, he can do (given the power to do so, of course). A magicker could, theoretically at least, destroy a system, but no one has been born who would have nearly the talent power to make it happen in reality. Theoretically, there is no limit as to what magic could do. But in practice, it is limited by the magicker himself.
Unfortunately, even though extensive breeding programmes have been done over the course of history, no True Interface, a magicker who has ultimate control over the universe and everything, has been created. And while the talent itself has a genetic component, the expression of the talent's power is outside the control of modern science and medicine.

It is also possible to "store" the connection to the universal strata persistently - to imbue the object with aneffect - in any object the magicker wants to. This requires more concentration to stabilise the connection in a special manner. Almost all day-to-day objects are altered in one way or another using this magical persistence. A modern spaceship, for instance, is riddled with stored magic. Its main energy core draws power from the netherworld, the weapons use efects of magic to affect targets, and it moves, both slower and faster than light through magical effect. Mostly it is done because the use of magickers for this sort of thing would strain them beyond any imagination, but in case of dire circumstances, all functions can be taken over by ship's crew.

[Lancer]

My, my. This new STGOD setting is rife with... exoticness. We've got (by my count) not one, but THREE pirate nations, two magical nations, and at least one mysterious shadowy force. Where are the old fashioned battleship fleets?

You haven't seen my OOB yet, just the primer.

[White Haven]

Recorded distress signal recovered from archaeological dig site 442-6A

TIMESTAMP <Unknown time/date format>

"This is Kirhaar Antonne of the Fourth Blade Group, to any friendly vessels in range. Do not, I repeat, do not reply to this message or move to assist." The image resolves from a fuzz of static into the image of a starship bridge, crewed by dark-skinned humans in blood-red uniforms. The speaker and two others wear chrome-armored pauldrons, but no other armor. All wear sidearms. "We are under attack from an <untranslatable phrase, 85% probability denoting hostile force> and cannot hold. TheyThe view heaves madly, lighting flaring and then winking out The record goes blank for several seconds, then resolves once more into a view of the same bridge. One of the men with shoulder-pauldrons is crumpled by a console, his leg bending in mid-thigh. The cabin is dark, the flashbeams of blunt-muzzled pistols providing the only illumination.

"The shields..the shields are gone!" calls one high-pitched, younger voice, its owner's flashbeam jerking back and forth, "I can't hear them, they're down!" The view jerks again, albeit not as violently, lights jerking and swaying around as the all-male crew struggles to maintain their balance. As the ship stabilizes, nine beams swing to center on the one hatch to the bridge, crew crouching behind consoles. The tenth, belonging to the injured officer, swings away. The gun hisses, a stream of high-velocity flechettes embedding in one of the bulkheads amidst a spray of blood and bone-chips, the remains of its owner's head. All nine remaining lights swing to center on the corpse amidst a clutter of yells and curses.

And the wall around the door screams in protest as it's punctured in a dozen places and ripped apart by main force. Half-seen forms surge through the gap, reflected light glinting from sharp edges. Light stabs from gun-lamps as the nine humans on the bridge turn to meet the threat, giving a chaotic impression of bladed limbs, chtinous armor, steel plating, and teeth. Many, many teeth. Strobes of light flash from weapons seemingly built into the limbs of the advancing beings, unarmored sailors dropping to the decks with strangled gasps and ineffective counter-fire.

The figures move in, extinguishing each light in turn, until the bridge is entirely dark, but the signal doesn't end. Scuffles and grunts, punctuated by whimpering sobs from still-living human lips punctuate the darkness...until nine, bright white cones of light stab down. Eight humans are held in implacable, armored grips, heads forced upright, blood trickling down their faces from the pins driven into their heads, pins holding their eyelids open, rendering it impossible for them to look away. The ninth is strapped to a table, stead-eagle...and the attackers set to work. Hours later, he is finally allowed to die, only black-gleaming, clawed hands and long, bladed spines ever entering the sharp light. The beings themselves remain in the shadows between each pool of radiance, seen only as shadows, gleaming erratically.

After the last human is finally allowed to die, a recorder begins to play, broadcasting the endles, dying screams of the crew through the still-operational distress beacon. Several times, the shrieks of metal overlay those of flesh, the view quivering and shuddering each time.

Archivist's note: My research indicates that the attackers were likely one of the more vicious bio-weapons engineered during the Great War. No one name has been linked to the beings referenced, but similar actions have been found in records of the time period.

[Glimmervoid]

The elder moved slowly along the passage surrounded by chitterling youngsters, despite his great age his voice was still clear as he told of his journeys,

“I, that is right young one, I did travel the stars. When I was young and head strong that is. I saw many strange and wonderful think, I saw the great the grate floating cities of Tin’bu, I strode the Great Plains near the mountains of Glasgow on Thurndin I saw many wonders on my travels that I did, but one interesting story begins on Hertin. ”

“Did you see any magic” whispered one of the Elders captive ordnance.

“Magic is worthless my child, it can not be studied, cataloged or reasoned with. Our people have always held this view and our forgers before us. Some say that the Great War that ended the Age of Silver was between those that supported magic and those that supported reason; I am not one of them however. It is my belief that a war that great could never have a single cause but I am side tracked. Yes I did see magic, it was a marvelous thing, I saw people simply Will an object in to existence, I saw people healed as if they were never hurt but that is not all I saw great evil too. People forced ageist there will to become half man half monster. I have seen entire cities mutate not to leave death as science might but creatures of half life, there is no greater abomination. No young one magic can not be trusted. Our creators had us remove all trace of it from the great library for a reason.

They feared it and with due cause if I am any judge. It is not of silver but of some thing else. Some thing that defies logic or reason.”

“O” said the child that had spoken earlier

“Do not be sorry child, for a question no mater the subject can never be anything but silver” Replied the Elder gently
“Now were was I yes I remember, I had just bough passed on a Star-steamer from the Out lying world of Hertin to a major trade station called Milngavie, there I hoped to find word of a lost manuscript I had heard tell of that could tell me …

[Vanas]

The Aericuran Empire. (WIP)

We fell on this world like a hail of falling stars; ancient systems in the ships that carried us finding a world that was suitable for our life to prosper.
And prosper, it has.

History
The colony ships that brought our race to Aericura milennia past were ancient vessels that barely survived the intense heating of re-entry. Indeed, from analysis of some of our larger craters, it appears that only a minority survived the initial landings.
Further archaeology indicates that our predecessors were reduced to a poor, pre-industrial state of affairs following the landings. However, ever being aware that we were not native to this world, but descendants of a star-faring race, they struggled and toiled to create sciences to allow us to return to our former glory. Industry arrived on Aericura within centuries, anbaric power, calcualting engines and rocket-ships following shortly after, expanding the horizons of our land-locked ancestors greatly. While much science was achieved in this era, the true prize made its appearance in a dramatic fashion. The city of Partholon records that a vast light appeared in the sky, similar to a rocket-ship's re-entry, but far brighter and larger. As it shot overhead, the records tell us that a vast dark form was visible in the glow, like an 'ancient god falling to Aericura from the vaulted halls of Heaven'. The wreckage found at the site was clearly of xenomophological origin, utterly unfamiliar to our scientists and philosophers, older than our colony-shrines and formed with corridors and chambers fitted for an utterly alien race.
However, while alien, the vessel still contained technology beyond our wildest understandings. Some say that when Queen-Empress Theodora I saw what had landed there, she saw the destiny of the Empire manifest itself before her. Centuries passed while we colonised our little system and physical scientists, alchemists and philosophers forged ahead on research.
300 years past, the first Airitech aethership was launched. Not relying on crude chemicals, it distorted the very aetheric void itself to move. The next Airitech aetherships created were larger, stronger, and built to take our people to the stars themselves. The generation ships were ironically overtaken only thirty years later by faster-than-light Airitech aetherships, and it is these vessels descendants that are the lifeblood of today's Empire.

Economy:
Capitalism, to the extent that one major colony system is operated by the Spinwards Colony Company.

Government:
Technically, a constitutional monarchy. In practice, the Royal Navy, the Merchant Navy and the Colonisation Office are all Crown assets that regard parliamentary interferences as, at best, infuriating. Parliament, therefore, prefers mainly to deal with domestic issues.

Ideology:

The Empire would never admit to believing it has a God-Given right to unify all the senient races it encounters into a vast trading bloc that's naturally patrolled by the Royal Navy and mainly controlled by Aericura. Because it knows it has one.

Military:
The Royal Navy is the mailed fist of the Empire. The navy's unofficial motto is Si non confectus, non reficiat, and it's ship designs and philosophy reflect this. Edifices of Adamantine and other exotic metals, topped with massive railgun batteries and hurled through the sky by the ungodly accelerative properties of their Airitech drives, the Royal Navy's ships are fast, tough and about as manoeverable as a planet. While mainly used for flying the flag nowadays, the recent detection of FtL wireless signal does indicate that other races have acheved a level of technology on a par with the Empires own (or god forbid, better) and, as such, the navy has recently completed a crash-modernisation plan.
Ground Forces are given a slight look in, after Lord Christian Erlison pointed out that while most of a planet population can be cowed by the presense of a massive floating warship, it might be wise to have something to actually take control of the area and defend diplomats, merchants and perhaps even fight wars on the ground. Ground forces generally consist of Army personell at the bottom of the ladder, Marine forces higher up and Royal Marine Commanos at the top. All are given the best armour, weaponry and assortments that the budget allows. (As they're a bit of a rarity, it might be handy to keep them around, no?)

Physiology:
The vast majority of the Aericuran peoples are human of various ethnicities and planetary origins, leading to a theory that the colony fleet was targeted at the general area, rather than at Aericura itself. Naturally, while improving their technology, they've taken a few cracks at self-improvement. Now, even in the smoke-filled, lightning pummeled environment of the largest cities, even a workhouse waif can hope to live for a century and a half (and maybe work his or her way to the lower or even middle class). Enhanced regeneration and toxin resistance are the typical, genetically built-in augmentation availble to anyone. It's rumoured that there are also more illict versions on offer, but reports of this have never been confirmed.

((OOC: Think I'm done. I'm having one of those days where what's in my head and what's been typed are subtly diverging. Still, it has the correct spirit. I hope.))