Grey
Dialectical Hermeticist
The world is ruled by corporations. What little government remains, the Federal Union of Imeria, is hardly better than a puppet lending a veneer of legitimacy to proceedings and keeping the free market from descending into anarchy. Their control is assured by the Redline System.
A tiny, heavily enchanted chip of ruby; your Redline is implanted within days of birth and carries your medical data, bank details, ID, ephemeral keys, and GPS coordinates. It labels you as a Citizen, with access to insurance, healthcare, employment, housing - at the price of constant monitoring and loyalty to the corporations.
Anyone without the chip is a Blackline, unregistered. An unperson, relegated to slums, without any legal protections. But being invisible has benefits, and Blacklines are often hired by the corps for industrial espionage, the dirty work that can turn someone’s neighbours against them if they used branded and payrolled security staff. Joining or even forming a private military company is often the only way out of the slums.
The executive boards of the corporations are often filled by Magi - people born with the ability to manipulate mana, a force immanent in the world that can be bent to wondrous ends. Historically, this involved calling lightning on your enemies or puppeteering the king, but when Samuel Wilson invented the flintlock the playing field got a little more even, and Magi were barred from public office, registered first on paper and then with Redlines. But when all the best technology is built on manatech - electricity from tamed lightning storms, the world-wide information web of the Mindsea, advanced munitions used to exercise your constitutional right to protection from Magi - they still found ways into power. Of course, you also find Blackline Magi, those born outside the corporate-culture. Barely trained, dangerous, and often with a grudge, they become pillars of their slum communities. gang-leaders, terrorists, black-market manatechs, or mercenaries.
In the last thirty years, cybernetic augmentation using complex industrial sorcery has been on the rise. Now people either reject it utterly, get the bare minimum necessary to compete in an increasingly gemmed workplace, or decide they want to spend the rest of their natural life, shiny and chrome. Direct Mindsea interfaces, wireless communication, military-grade powered armour, and personal enhancements from charisma boosters to cognitive overclocking - anything is possible for the right price.
War has changed. Conventional forces were long ago mostly replaced by corporate black ops teams and private military companies. More advanced manatech weaponry has made its way into circulation, and clashes between corporations can have devastating collateral damage - but where possible, they happen in slums where registered Citizens can’t complain. Augmentation has lead to a new arms race; soldiers with powered exoskeletons and integrated weapons, built-in magical countermeasures and entopic tactical streams.
You are employees of Lightning Security Solutions, Inc. The Private Military Company with a conscience, the Eastern Reach's own mercenary miracle. After a year of negotiation, skirmishes, and outright hostility, you've given the city state of Fortune the chance to secede from the Union. Democracy will be restored. The corporations will be regulated. These people will be the first to taste liberty again.
Today, the secession is made official. You're ensuring the event remains secure, but it's impossible to shake the feeling this will be a day to remember.
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Crucible: Dismal Streets game. Five players, can work with as few as three.
This is a shameless and loving homage to Metal Gear, especially Metal Gear Rising. Expect something horrible to happen in the opening scenes.
Characters should have some combat background, but being primarily support staff is fine.
I need at least one player to collude with me on a background that involves being a child soldier, for reasons.
A tiny, heavily enchanted chip of ruby; your Redline is implanted within days of birth and carries your medical data, bank details, ID, ephemeral keys, and GPS coordinates. It labels you as a Citizen, with access to insurance, healthcare, employment, housing - at the price of constant monitoring and loyalty to the corporations.
Anyone without the chip is a Blackline, unregistered. An unperson, relegated to slums, without any legal protections. But being invisible has benefits, and Blacklines are often hired by the corps for industrial espionage, the dirty work that can turn someone’s neighbours against them if they used branded and payrolled security staff. Joining or even forming a private military company is often the only way out of the slums.
The executive boards of the corporations are often filled by Magi - people born with the ability to manipulate mana, a force immanent in the world that can be bent to wondrous ends. Historically, this involved calling lightning on your enemies or puppeteering the king, but when Samuel Wilson invented the flintlock the playing field got a little more even, and Magi were barred from public office, registered first on paper and then with Redlines. But when all the best technology is built on manatech - electricity from tamed lightning storms, the world-wide information web of the Mindsea, advanced munitions used to exercise your constitutional right to protection from Magi - they still found ways into power. Of course, you also find Blackline Magi, those born outside the corporate-culture. Barely trained, dangerous, and often with a grudge, they become pillars of their slum communities. gang-leaders, terrorists, black-market manatechs, or mercenaries.
In the last thirty years, cybernetic augmentation using complex industrial sorcery has been on the rise. Now people either reject it utterly, get the bare minimum necessary to compete in an increasingly gemmed workplace, or decide they want to spend the rest of their natural life, shiny and chrome. Direct Mindsea interfaces, wireless communication, military-grade powered armour, and personal enhancements from charisma boosters to cognitive overclocking - anything is possible for the right price.
War has changed. Conventional forces were long ago mostly replaced by corporate black ops teams and private military companies. More advanced manatech weaponry has made its way into circulation, and clashes between corporations can have devastating collateral damage - but where possible, they happen in slums where registered Citizens can’t complain. Augmentation has lead to a new arms race; soldiers with powered exoskeletons and integrated weapons, built-in magical countermeasures and entopic tactical streams.
You are employees of Lightning Security Solutions, Inc. The Private Military Company with a conscience, the Eastern Reach's own mercenary miracle. After a year of negotiation, skirmishes, and outright hostility, you've given the city state of Fortune the chance to secede from the Union. Democracy will be restored. The corporations will be regulated. These people will be the first to taste liberty again.
Today, the secession is made official. You're ensuring the event remains secure, but it's impossible to shake the feeling this will be a day to remember.
---------------------------------------------
Crucible: Dismal Streets game. Five players, can work with as few as three.
This is a shameless and loving homage to Metal Gear, especially Metal Gear Rising. Expect something horrible to happen in the opening scenes.
Characters should have some combat background, but being primarily support staff is fine.
I need at least one player to collude with me on a background that involves being a child soldier, for reasons.
