Fires of Creation: Technological Terrors
"What is this place?" Morin repeated Synn's question thoughtfully. "Now that is a complicated question masquerading as a simple one. Okay: Since I don't know what you know, I suppose I'll take it from the top."
The diminutive bard threw his arms out wide, theatrically attempting to encompass all of reality with one gesture. "Golarion! The third planet from our sun, celestial cage of the mad god Rovagug, and home to just about everyone you've ever met...so far! But then you probably already knew that, so I'll move on."
Morin lowered his arms a little, narrowing the scope of his wide gesture. "Numeria! A harsh land of plains and steppe, inhabited by a hardy and tribal population. Ten thousand years ago, great metal ruins rained down from the sky, filled with wondrous and terrible technologies! Though the Black Sovereign officially rules from his court in Starfall, the real power lies with the Technic league, a cabal of tech-hoarding slavers that are widely agreed to be complete pieces of shit."
Morin's hands moved closer together, until they were about shoulder-width apart. "Torch! A small town imaginatively named after the pillar of super-hot flame emitting from the top of it's central hill. The town's eponymous torch allows them to smith adamantium alloys with relative ease, at least it did until it went dead a couple weeks ago. No flame means they can't smith, no smithing means they can't pay the Technic League's taxes, no taxes means it's just a matter of time until an army of gearsman show up and give the town a different kind of torching."
The distance between his hands narrowed once again. "Which brings us here, to a deep hole underneath Torch's torch, where there's a whole lot more technology waiting than they thought. Robots and electricity, and some kind of underground desert fulla skeletons. If the Technic League ever found out what was down here they'd invade the place, taxes or no taxes! So, uh, try to keep it quiet. We're expedition number...five? Six? Maybe seven if you count the mysterious pink-haired woman that apparently snuck into the cave right before the torch died. The last expedition before us was lead by Cain's friend Khonnir Baine, the only one of the town's leaders with any guts or brains. First priority is getting him out of here: There's a 4000 gold bounty for bringing back his body, and on the off-chance it's still breathing when we find it, we get to keep their scroll of resurrection, too."
Finally finishing his expansive arm gesture, Morin's hands came together in a dramatic clap. "Or, if you were being more specific...I think this is like a broom closet?"
"As far as objectives go, I imagine that's up to you! I mean, personally I'm here looking for inspiration as I write the next great Taldan stage-play. My last work, Rovagug the Musical...kind of a flop, if I'm being honest. The public's more into heroic adventure these days, so I figured a good first step in the writing process would be becoming a heroic adventurer!"
He gestured to the pessimistic half-elf of the party. "Like I said, Cain's a local. So his objective is trying to save the his town. As for Zorden...Well, Zed's not the talking type. I think it's just about the money for him? Or maybe he's here on the hunt for some kind of fancy space gun. At least, that's how I'm gonna write him when I turn this whole adventure into a play." Morin finished, giving the taciturn Tiefling a cheeky wink as he talked about what personality to assign the gunslinger after the fact.
"How about you two? If you don't know what's going on, and you don't know anything about these ruins, did you guys just show up and grab the first job that paid, no matter how dangerous? Or..." Morin raised an eyebrow at the hulking blond warrior. "Is the danger the point? You got something to prove?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:55, Mon 11 July 2022.