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Jkeown

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Everything posted by Jkeown

  1. I'm translating Villains and Vigilantes' The Centerville Incident to HERO System. Yay! One of the characters is Special Officer Koniji Hirakarini, a space cop. She's got a gun, a short skirt, and all the anime tropes you care to apply. Her weird thing is Proxima; who is her armor and ship and best friend. They are the same person. This is a really cool idea, but how to build it? Do you just build a multiform for Proxima? Can a person (android) multiform into a vehicle? Proxima is an android? Easy enough. Proxima is a ship? Multiform to a character with all the powers required to simulate all the bits a starship would have (Merchant ship from Star Hero) Proxima is a battlesuit? Just a bunch of powers for Koniji with the limitation that Proxima isn't available while the armor is active? Handwave it? I'M THE GM AND I SAID SO is hardly good HERO Math.
  2. The Dragons of Caleon have various response to those who would employ their hides as haberdashery. Riachadda doesn't take offense so much as revenge. She sees her kind as noble beasts, standing apart from other creatures. While generally a force for good, murder is another matter. Korgalath is often amused. The armored character is often barbecued. Zinzalor might like to know if the hide in question was a friend. His reaction is generally based on the answer, as he has a number of rivals that he'd like to see on a dwarf's backside in one way or another. Nornastor is a close-minded reptile. He isn't easily roused or torn away from his books and scrolls, and rarely takes interest in anything else. Nornastor doesn't adapt. He's already hidebound. Gidraash, the Hidden Lord of the Drakeholds, is rarely seen and couldn't be bothered for an answer. The last time he was polled on a matter, the questioner was turned into rather startled cloud of drifting ash and regret. Onn, resting atop a pile of enchanted bone that would make any necromancer worth his salt quiver in vile, void-powered ecstatic glee, would probably like to know if the hide in question was his own. He'd like it back. Gethrimax will likely trade for it. He'll offer 3000... Degrees... Fahrenheit. Kaathrixis simply doesn't care to know who's being worn this season. She's rather busy these days and has no time for gossip. Boltakainen will cry tears of fire at the loss of one of his kind. He will beat his chest, roar in titanic sorrow, thrash his tail in anguish. He will lament for the fallen, for the Civilization of Solitude are few in number. Lastly, he will gently reach out, grasp the armored character in his forgiving claw and beat the remainder of the party to death with him.
  3. I'm seeing the same issue, but having been a software tester for more than 10 years, I went through the steps above (even before reading this thread) and I still get the SPDEFENSES parsering error. HD is up-to-date, the Combat Manager is the most recent version, having been downloaded to this PC just the other day. Both characters are 6E, using the 6E export v1.1. The combat record is in the same directory as HCM. The file I tried is attached. I should note that this has worked in the past, but these are new installations. Is there a newer version of the export than the 2014 release of 1.1 that I'm somehow missing? Fight10.XML hcmlogging20200614073858.txt
  4. So... what about Autofire? I have a player who doesn't realize it, but he will be asking that question. Soon. So very soon.
  5. A certain hi-tek culture coreward of the Union (but not so far that you are tripping over Aurorans), the Kellis, have a dirty habit of removing dead soldier's brains and putting them in weird ceramic modules. These modules have life support and neuro-interface sockets. They build robots with compatible hardware (they built some others that weren't compatible. I can get those for you cheap). Now, a Kellian warrior doesn't just die for his world once... but over and over as maintenance schedules allow. When not actually hooked up to a battle-bot, hover-tank, or neuro-fighter, Kellian Warrior Modules live in a semi-simulated world with just enough bad news to keep their minds busy. When needed, they're transferred to a new robo-form and sent out to inflict as much harm as possible before getting snuffed again. A Mostly Dead Kellian is very like a creature with the Possession Power. He has EGO, INT, PRE, OMCV, DMCV and some Skills. Everything else is sitting on the Battle-Bot's hard drive. To upgrade, he or she (or eir, for that matter) need only plug into another cyber-shell. Is this an abuse of the Possession power? I think with the right Limitations on the Possession Power (Limited Power - Only With Compatible Hardware), this could work very well. Especially in a military or espionage thing. My apologies if this has been discussed before and I've missed it. How does this compare with just having characters use sleeves as vehicles?
  6. Telerons are fickle little bastards, are they not? Well done!
  7. I want to turn all of this, and the other 135 entries, into a giant Space Bestiary product, but I can't get a response from HERO Games.
  8. Thanks! I try to be this weird in real life, but you can't edit as it as easily.
  9. The Zara Template Humans are still terribly fond of cosmetic changes to their offspring. Billions of teenagers now resemble Zara Temple from the catastrophically popular Hyperspace Phantasm enneaology of action-casts from 2580-2589. She starred in Hyperspace Phantasm, Hyperspace Phantasm II: Goldberg’s Revenge, Hyperspace Phantasm III: Stellar Catastrophe, Hyperspace Phantasm IV: Black Hole Sun, Hyperspace Phantasm V: Frozen Stars, Hyperspace Phantasm VI: Iridium Crisis, Hyperspace Phantasm VII: The Return of Goldberg, Hyperspace Phantasm VIII: Again with Goldberg, and Hyperspace Phantasm IX: The Zara Protocol. She has become the highest paid actress in Human history. Many of these children (not all are girls) are named Zara as well. Rebelling against this, many of them drastically alter their appearance, take up “street-names” or otherwise try very hard to distance themselves from the image of Zara. Zara Temple herself has publicly decried the practice of copying her, to little effect. More Zaras are crafted and born every year. Estimates range from 2 to 5 billion Zaras extant in the Union, the Cooperative, and the Unclaimed Reaches. You can even buy cheap over-the-counter gene-mods and back-alley chromosome cocktails if you can't afford the good stuff. (Warning: Take Only As Directed) Last time I encountered one of these copies, she was at a place called the Three Sheets on Argos (that dump near Hykene). Looked pretty confused, kept dodging around and checking corners before slipping around them. I tried to make small talk as she attempted to climb into a ventilation duct. As it happens, it wasn't a Zara Template at all, but some guy's leaky, wrist-mounted Holo-Tainment (tm) system. The character had escaped into the ambient info-space of the bar and was trying to stalk and kill Goldberg and his psychotic psionic sidekick, Happi Thoughtsponge. Didn't end well; nothing involving uncontrolled, self-aware holograms ever does. Points Ability 6 +2/+2d6 Striking Appearance (vs. All Characters) Value Complication 10 Distinctive Features: Zara Template (Conc, Noticed and Recognizable; Detectable By Commonly-Used Senses
  10. Artificial Indignation The vile machine intelligence known as Artificial Indignation is an electronic Hate-o-Mat. It is comprised of acrimonious subroutines, annoyance circuits, antagonistic code, inimical data, stacks of fury, thermionic ire, and anodic rage against all life save one small cat ai has named “Hostility.” In a web-cast interview, ai explained that cats are indifferent, not only to ai, but to all life. Ai digs that. Ai then had resentment-pumped plasma guns reduce the reporter to a cloud of free atomic oxygen, drifting carbon, and a handful of other elements ai was too busy to analyze. No one knows who built it or why. In desperate need of fuel, air and my own continued existence, I happened upon AI's fortress constructed in orbit around the cryosubjovian Antipathy. Its deep blue color was little comfort, knowing the crushing atmosphere maintained a balmy -317 degrees Fahrenheit. I burnt the last of my fuel to glide closer, hoping to arrest my fall with the hyper-shuttle's RCS. If I'd known that this spiky, force-shielded, dread-inducing hate-sphere was the home of the most spiteful machine in all existence, I might have passed it by and taken my chances with the planet's crushing shroud of molecular hydrogen, helium, methane, and abject inconvenience. As it was, I managed to dock the ship using a Very Puffy Travel Tube(tm) and a vacc-impeller I "found" back on Shaphulax Icks. Once inside, I was treated to a temple of embodied malice. Monitors on every surface displayed what I hoped were CGI of exploding stars, ruined planets and bones. So many bones. The planet below started to look pretty good. What I had mistaken for art objects transformed from giant middle fingers to giant plasma cannons while a disembodied voice asked the purpose of my visit. "Life support refresh, fuel and a trauma-free departure." I answered. "WHO ARE YOU TO DISTURB MY SLUMBER?" it bellowed. "Pleet, Pleet Roodlepleen. I am a seeker after knowledge, a scientist, a researcher... I want to know things, spread understanding throughout the universe and profit mightily from it." "TELL ME OF YOUR RESEARCH, SCRIBE. SPARE NO DETAIL, OR I SHALL BECOME QUITE CROSS!" The terrifying bass voice beat in my chest, simulating arrhythmia more than a little accurately. I told him of my triumphs, conquests and failures of science. I told him that not one of these allowed me to rest, that I forge on through the murky darkness, dispelling the demons of the night while others cowered around their comforting campfires, fearful of discovery. I told him of those lost in my service, of the wrecked outstations, blasted planets, and inter-dimensional catastrophes I'd initiated. I explained that rather than drown in sorrow, rather than admit defeat, I stumbled along in my quest, failures and law suits meaning nothing along the way. I would, I told him, stop at nothing for science. He seemed to mull it about for a moment. "KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK." I got quite the deal on the fuel and breathing gases and several free-to-a-good-home kittens. Artificial Indignation.hdc
  11. I just wrote this... just for you. Vaguerons You might have encountered a Vagueron. Most folks do not remember them. In fact, it’s a minor miracle I’m able to talk about them at all. They follow a strict code referred to as the Uncertainty Principles. Violation of this code results in exile which might or might not bring them into conflict in areas far away from their un-guessable home world (or near… I don’t know). Many people only realize they’ve been attacked by Vaguerons when they discover wounds, weird alien bodies, and drained power packs that hint at a very recent conflict. I may have encountered these weirdos before. I have notes from the event, but my hand writing is smeared with some sort of alcoholic beverage and what appears to be biological process by-products. A possible method of detection may have recently (or not) been discovered by the Cooperative Operative, Haar Malgot. By tossing two ducks into a Finite Potential Well and fishing one out, you create a sort of Vagueron Alert System. If a Vagueron lurks nearby both ducks, despite their separation, will sound off. Essentially, if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s a Vagueron.
  12. Kadu Kadu resemble nothing so much as a nautilus with a plasma cannon protruding from its tentacles. They are huge creatures, the size of a medium starship. The first thing you notice about a Kadu (right after you finish screaming and changing your pants) is the great spiraling shell of the beast, decorated with flowing bio-luminescent whorls and stripes. The tentacles are next, followed by that gun. What a monster that gun is, powerful enough to shred starship armor, it sticks out almost obscenely from the tangle of tentacles. It also glows brightly across the spectrum, mostly in the infrared. It has been suggested that Kadu could not have evolved naturally. This is plainly obvious. Self-replicating polymers like Kadu DNA would be torn down by ultraviolet radiation before they could develop cell walls and cytoplasm. The scarcity of food in a vacuum also presents a problem evolution would have to overcome. It is therefore correct to conclude that they were provolved in the deep past by some alien super-race such as the eons-old Forerunners, long-dead Rhal Shee Dha, or the Benefactors of the last few thousand years. If this is indeed the case, it tells us at least one thing about the ancients. They were dicks. Related functionally to the Archangels, Auto-Wars, Bio-Destruct-os and Vacc-Blasters; Kadu are uplifted sea creatures certainly designed for war in space. That they have outlasted their creators is a testament to the wisdom of such technology. Kadu are quite the sight, flying in formation against the black star-studded void of deep space. They can be seen chasing swarms of rock munchers, snacking on planetary rings or derelict starships. They are also quite the sight when dining on a not-so-derelict ship (or mine, specifically). They are sensitive to infrared wavelengths, known for its ability to penetrate dust clouds. Star Whales are often found in molecular clouds and ring systems, and are best detected in the IR. Attempts to breed such beasts in captivity have been universal failures. Such efforts have resulted in fourteen destroyed orbital habitats, nine ring-stations and seven major lawsuits. Two of which are still affecting my credit score and dating fitness on Malabar/Hlevakha. Of all the evolutionary drivers, provolve technology is the most difficult, sexual selection is perhaps the most complex, with financial selection being the most depressing. There are rumors whispered quietly in seedy star town bars, and screamed aloud in seedy star town asylums, of "Old Galactic Kadu" the size of Union dreadnoughts. Don't go outside, is what I'm saying. Kadu.hdc
  13. Which Argos was it? Lupus? Celestial Chorus? Core Stars? Not that dump near Hykene, was it?
  14. Goo Girls The Goo Girls of Regula Slimefax are an amorphous lifeform with a semi-solid rest state. That is to say, they look like transparent, candy-colored female Humans but are in fact able to move through cracks, grates, and enter any place not fully sealed off from the outside. This makes them excellent infiltrators. Any equipment they might carry is left behind when they discorporate. It’s also kind gooey afterward. Loot if you want, but carry wipes. It is interesting to note that Goo Girls all resemble Chlamydia Smithereens, a Tribal Seeker After Knowledge lost in the Regula Volumes some hundred or so years ago. Many Goo Girls wander away from home to slop around the galaxy, looking at stuff. I ran into a Goo Girl on Ophiuchus/Pridax Minor. It was my routine to run around the starport there (little more than a bare patch of rock with a "radio shack" and a gift shop/fuel/life support store) for a bit of exercise each morning. Turning a corner, I passed through a Goo Girl and carried her a few dozen feet. In truth, I was running away. When I finally stopped she was flung off and splattered across the "landing pad" with a sound like an amorphous female shot through the air and landing on bare rock. We traveled together for a time, she and I. You could say she was quite attached to me. [Jeffery's Note: DO NOT GOOGLE "GOO GIRL." I DID IT TO SEE IF THERE WAS A PRECEDENT FOR THIS IDEA AND I REGRET IT DEEPLY] Goo Girl.hdc
  15. Methusaline Methusaline is a viral treatment designed to kill, with a side effect of Immortality, or an Immortality drug that can kill you. Upon contact, the virus proceeds to re-write your system. This takes quite a toll, Draining 4d6 BODY before a Transform. Should you be in Negative BODY before the Transform hits, you are dead. So sorry. If, however, you survive, you are now immortal. Yay! Rumors of an Immortal Swordsman going around and killing Methusalites is pure fantasy. Seriously. Methusaline: (Total: 115 Active Cost, 18 Real Cost) Phase One: Drain BODY 4d6 (40 AP); 1 Charge which Never Recovers (-4), OAF (Viral Injector; -1), Extra Time (1 Minute, Only to Activate, -¾) (Real Cost: 6) Phase Two: Major Transform 3d6 (Transform Normal Creature into Immortal Creature, Healing Vs Transform), DOT, Lock out (cannot be applied multiple times) (3 damage increments, damage occurs every three Segments, +1½) (75 AP); 1 Charge which Never Recovers (-4), OAF (Viral Injector; -1) (Real Cost: 12)
  16. The Cloud (With sincere apologies to Fred Hoyle and Gene L. Coon) From the 1930s, mankind was aware of complex organic chemistry in deep space. From the discovery of methylidyne in 1937, to the confirmation of fullerenes in the century following, it was made clear that organic chemistry was not confined to planetary surfaces. What mankind did not know was just how complex such chemistry could be. In dark nebulae, organic molecules cluster inside carbon fullerenes, shielding them from UV radiation and allowing electrical connectivity between self-replicating molecular structures. It is a short trip from there to animation. From animation to intelligence is a longer journey, but it is one the universe attained at least once. What I’m saying is the Rho Ophiuchi Cloud Complex is alive. Not only is it alive, it is intelligent. Energized by its proximity to several bright stars and churned by the shock front from the Scorpius-Centaurus Association of O- and B-type stars, intelligence arose in the Cloud Complex millions of years ago and in that time, largely sat and thought about things. After a time, on what to some lifeforms would be a Thursday afternoon in late autumn, it hit upon the idea of shaping ambient carbon in its own mass, creating gigantic diamond mirrors and lenses. It used these to view the universe and extend its understanding of itself. It discovered tiny worlds, strange stars, other dark clouds and on another Thursday just two hundred years ago, life. A mis-jump brought Raymond Nix and his one-man hyper-pod into the nebula. His drive smashed and his life in grave peril, he faced death alone in the dark. Carbon nano-tubes, like soft fingers, ran over his tiny craft, understanding it to be a small self-contained world. Using spectral analysis, it formed a plan. Quickly spinning up a diamond sphere and filling it with free oxygen and other seemingly important gases, it pried open the pod and allowed Raymond Nix a second chance at life. Floating in a diamond bubble 132.5 parsecs from Earth is the last place Nix expected to be. Terrified yet hopeful, he spoke in his characteristic Lupus/Wauwatosa accent (one that always make the listener think you’re from somewhere near Milwaukee), politely requesting what the hell was happening. More nanotubes extended from the inside surface of the diamond sphere and infiltrated deep into his body. They probed, queried, sent test signals that gave Raymond hallucinations and alien thoughts. Full communication followed, and understanding blossomed. The Cloud requested that Raymond take some portion of itself with him, to let the Cloud explore the universe. “Your vacuum adapted form won’t survive in a gravity well.” Raymond explained, “You would collapse without a physical form like mine.” “Not yours.” It spoke, “hers.” The Cloud probed again and began copying memories and spinning up bones, organs and a functioning human brain. Within a few hours, a perfect copy of Raymond’s dead wife Riley stood in front of him. All of the Cloud’s millions of years of knowledge and observations flooded into the new being. A spark animated the body and she asked simply, “Can we go now?” At first Raymond resisted, this form was perfect, at least as perfect as he remembered her. Thus, she was an idealized copy, a clone the Cloud designed to tempt him into acceptance. “I could go without you. Spin up a pod of my own and venture across space for the next few million years.” It threatened, the implication that he would remain here, without hope of escape, for the hours his air supply would last. It hit him that this being, the cloud and its tempting avatar had no companionship, nothing to compare itself to, no instances of having to make rational or moral choices. This thing was a monster. A monster that was about to be inflicted upon the universe. It needs a balance. “We’ll go together.” He stated flatly. Maybe he could prevent disaster. So next time you’re at some seedy booze-pit on Remmick, or slumming with the Tribals at Collinz-Port, or even drifting through the cybernetic microcosm of the Quantum Jones Very Large Brain at Mercator University on Planet Clarke, and you see a couple laughing at the next table, and one of them looks very like long-lost Raymond Nix, just walk away.
  17. Humanity! Humanity has jumped out into the stars like a child at play. And, like a well-meaning but inattentive child, Humanity has scrapes and bruises to show for it. They are not one race, but dozens; Heavyworlders, Lightworlders and Spacers from the early days of interstellar journeying, to the most recent advances in engineering that brought forth Mankind’s newest children, the computer-like Bioroids. Humans are everywhere, and they are doing everything. From the relaxed, casual Earthbound to the pioneers of the Coreward Expanse, Humanity is leading the way. (Well… not the Earthbound, some of those lazy bastards can barely stand up on their own) They colonize, grow, reach out and colonize again. The area known as Humanspace is expanding faster than light itself. Held in check only by the near-totalitarian Union Executive Council and the technology-minded Intervention, Humanity seems ready to break free of control and run wild across the entire galaxy. The reins are held as tightly as they are to avoid disaster. Humanity can neither spread too thin nor remain too clustered. Either situation leads to destruction at the hands of the Ascendancy, the Aurorans or some other race unknown at present. Humanity is a psionic race. Most humans with power are Telepaths (or Readers). A smaller percentage are Lifters or Jumpers. Terrans Alpha: Homo Superior Parahuman provolve. 30% of humanity is Alpha. Alphas are attractive, healthy and long-lived. Baseline: Typical Human, non-provolved, un-tampered-with, just plain old, down home Homo sapiens. Baselines are rare, but the only plain-looking people. It is possible to have any combination of facial features and body types. Bioroid: A neogen with engineered genes. Typically, with a DNA time bomb in their code, they also lack the ability to synthesize certain important proteins. These two measures insure demand and turnover of Bioroid stock. Omega: Homo Superior Parahuman upgrade: 50% of humanity is Omega. Omegas are beautiful, tall, graceful and disease resistant. Parahuman: Genetically distinct from Baselines, but not so different as to be a new species. (Alpha, Omega, Space Elf, Star Kitten, etc.) Splice: A chimeric life form with loan-genes from Baselines or Alphas, and various animals. These non-Human genes provide modified body structures, altered senses and built-in weaponry. Transhuman: An Upload, a Human AI, or software lifeform. Xenohuman: A Human from another star system. It is thought that the Forerunners seeded the Spur (and even farther) with Human life. This life has evolved on its own into new and different species. Some are still so close to Baseline that they can breed with them. This category erroneously includes Lost Humans from more recent (CE period) migrations and experimental populations. The Pra An are known to have moved Humans around during the Enlightenment, for example. Human Names Human names are as diverse in 2600CE as they ever were, but a few naming trends have become popular in recent years. First Initial – Many parents began using only a first initial for their children about thirty years ago. Within ten years, entire first names vanished, replaced by letters or numbers (or absent altogether). Names like J Wells Brown and 12 Felicia Nordmeyer are now perfectly normal. The custom is to use the initial and the middle name when addressing someone named in this fashion. It is less common in Ophiuchus among the Tribals and Teknos, who cling to bynames left over from the Gamma Age. Vowel Replacement – A naming convention that started in Lupus in 2550 reached Ophiuchus 20 years later. The first vowel is replaced with a dot. Examples include D.vid, M.ke and K.rla. This seems to be viewed by some as “forward” and “modern” and by others as “stupid.” Android Names – Artificial beings usually have their names in caps. DAPHNE, ZINAAT, or IMANI. Very recently, in the last 15 years or so, parents have been cursing their children with this style of name. It can cause some civil service types to reject applications based on the assumption that the applicant is an android, Bioroid or weblife riding a bioshell. Taking all of these, there is probably some child out there with the name 15 S.VANNAH JOHNSON. Poor thing.
  18. BALDR The appearance of the energy being BALDR to the folks of the Zhou Cricket Bar™ Foundry has messed with more than a few heads. By diverting the asteroid Tsu-54, he saved a hundred thousand lives and a million Androids aboard the station. BALDR does not seem to be an AI, mutant or anything Union science has ever encountered. Some have taken to worshipping him as one of the Forerunners, or perhaps something even older. His “coalescent form” as he termed it, was an incredibly hot white-haired Human male about 20 years old. Male-Attracted beings across space now have posters of him on their walls, and holos in their pockets. Images of BALDR are making several folks a great deal of money. White hair is making a comeback as well. Holo-novels have featured him a great deal, granting him incredible powers and setting him on a path of unrequited love and personality traits the authors have fabricated. The entire incident is being investigated as the greatest case of theofraud ever.
  19. Zerped The Zerped are a race of gigantic wormhole constructors. A mix of ultra-tech cyberware and vacuum-adapted alien flesh, the Zerped number only a few thousand. They enter an area of space, shoot it full of wormhole networks and depart. Bloody conflicts follow as races who wouldn’t mix for hundreds of years are suddenly neighbors. Currently these spatial engineers are engaged in perforating the Mylax Cluster near Phong, in Cephei Sector. Corporate interests, the Xenohuman Alliance and the Union Military are poised to dive in when the first wormhole activates. For now, the enormous Engineer/Ships are still laboring away on the project, seemingly oblivious to the swarm of travel-hungry vessels nearby. Zerpeds do not communicate with those who gather around them. They merely toil away in silence.
  20. Here's a bunch of stuff from my 2600CE campaign, hope you enjoy it. The Remains of Doxxis Prima Generally regarded as the greatest scientific failure in the history of the galaxy, Doxxis was the first (we think) planet to perfect Chronotropic Matter. Chronotropic Matter, once created, exists in all times, past and present, spiraling backward through history as if it had always existed. Rememberer Nora Lenderbee travelled quite by accident to Doxxis on a site-seer cruise and was nearly struck down by what she saw. The entire planet, and several worlds beyond Doxxis, were in complete ruin. They had created an inclined plinth of Chronotron-doped marble and placed a similarly doped book, written in their oldest language, of all their terribly impressive technology. This book, they reasoned, would allow their ancient ancestors to craft no end of modern technology and conquer the universe. They used the technology to blow themselves up repeatedly. Small stellar empires would rise around Doxxis, only to be wiped out in mere months. Now, in the altered timeline, Doxxis and her ruined child-worlds roll on through the black, a testament to invention without ethics. The Doxians themselves are only known from the illustrations in the book, and what few records and skeletons survived their repeated failures. If any remain at large, they are likely the last of their kind.
  21. Zervoids The Zervoids are a race of callous, scheming worms with mismatched legs, jumbled “facial” features, questionable morals and nowhere-to-be-seen table manners. Each Zervoid seems a cobbled-together jumble of bits of different bugs. Their overall form is that of a short, stumpy, disgruntled Myriapoda. They favor darkness, having evolved under the crustal plates of their home world, Dank. Crawling around in the dark and cold for millions of years forged the Zervoids into many forms and functions. My latest encounter with this surly race was thankfully in deep space. We sent out a White Radio Signal 7 hoping for a rescue attempt after a disastrous experiment left half our ship in the Astral and the other half in dire peril. Our savior’s ship precipitated out of hyperspace looking as if it had stopped too suddenly and the drive section had shoved itself into the cargo bay, forcing the living quarters up under where the bridge should have been and that bit was forced forward on some kind of boom. It outgassed for a moment, contracting slightly before communications were opened. The slavering captain and his crew of arthropod asshats began by asking a fee for the rescue. We explained that any of our liquid assets were now floating through etherical non-space. It was true. We had like 2,126 standard liters of whiskey back there. After negotiating an almost reasonable price, they boarded us and checked the wounded, analyzed damage, and queried credit scores. Satisfied that we could pay, the first officer met me on the bridge. In its hissing, slobbering tongue, the thing requested his payment up front. I struggled to understand him, my knowledge of Zervoid deservedly limited. “Athtachlasss’huf.” It garbled. “I’ll have it for you when we make port at Skrapyard Farms,” for once, this was true, “I have nothing on board.” "Eesthlaa’a uac naaaass.” at least I think that’s how you spell “Then we take the ship.” in Zervoid. “I’d prefer a tow.” I strongly demanded with the same boldness and confidence you’d ask your grandmother for a second cookie. It wasn’t having it. It kind of spit into its comm-unit and a moist reply came back, wet, crackling, and raspy. “Usk…Nhal…Vrap…Gha-“ I handed over the mag-cards to the spare drive coil storage and the ship’s locker. It spat again and the countdown stopped. “Pleasure doing business with you.” It intoned in perfect Standard. ---------------------------- Like Hex-Wolf, the Zervoids have a weapon listed. They should pay points or not depending on your campaign. Zervoid.hdc
  22. True. My next campaign, which was supposed to start today until a migraine decided to join the group will start on Argos (the one in Ophiuchus). Had to cancel with 2 hours notice. But that's the syntax. Most other references read "Sector/Planet" but no one ever says "Ophiuchus/Argos" they say Argos (the one in [Sector]). Maybe worlds are just "Argos" until they are something else, as you suggest?
  23. As a running joke in my 2600CE game there are 37 planets named Argos. I don't know how or why it started. I think I mentioned two entirely different worlds and a player called me on it. I hastily improvised a stupid story about prankster astrocartographers, bored pioneers, and some fairly shoddy interstellar communication. It stuck.
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