YOU Build The Setting...

[Dragonspawn]

Here is a brain storm for you guys...

Greenland and Iceland now comprise "Jotunlund" a frozen waste dominated by giants and trolls.

Africa has become 'Infernus', a land afire with volcanic activity, nuclear fire and drenched in enough radiation to melt metal and stone. This is home to the fire giants and ruled by Surtur, though his son Harlequin seeks to overthrow him.

Antarctica is now known as 'Torporia,'... the frozen waste where the dead live and walk again, ruled by the hag-goddess Hel herself.

Europe and Asia are collectively known as 'Midguard' and are the last known bastion of human life.

Perhaps Australia has become Svartálfheim, the subterranean land of dwarves. (truly the 'land down under')

The Americas are now known as New Álfheimr, the land of the elves.

Just some thoughts. Feel free to critique/discuss.

[Robotman]

I like this. How about we divide up the continents to make the progress on the project move forward?

All ideas and input are welcome.

[ValhallaGH]

Here is a brain storm for you guys...

Greenland and Iceland now comprise "Jotunlund" a frozen waste dominated by giants and trolls.

Africa has become 'Infernus', a land afire with volcanic activity, nuclear fire and drenched in enough radiation to melt metal and stone. This is home to the fire giants and ruled by Surtur, though his son Harlequin seeks to overthrow him.

Antarctica is now known as 'Torporia,'... the frozen waste where the dead live and walk again, ruled by the hag-goddess Hel herself.

Europe and Asia are collectively known as 'Midguard' and are the last known bastion of human life.

Perhaps Australia has become Svartálfheim, the subterranean land of dwarves. (truly the 'land down under')

The Americas are now known as New Álfheimr, the land of the elves.

Just some thoughts. Feel free to critique/discuss.

I like this but the rulers need to be changed to account for who's dead. Remember, the current idea is to set this after the battles of Ragnarok but before the rebuilding, which may or may not come.

[Robotman]

Good points.

I am going to go back through my posts and edit out all the ancillary information to get to the meat of the thread.

A summary will come up as well. That way noone has to wade through all of it to get to the point.

Lets not forget Niohoggr who gnaws at the world tree from below. Unsure if he survives or not, but I see his followers working behind the scenes living in shadow, influencing and subverting the kingdoms of man.

[cthughua]

Dude it is crazy that yall are working on this idea. I never looked at this thread before... because I have plans to publish a campaign setting almost identical in concept.

[Robotman]

Seems like the perfect time to collaborate with us!

[cthughua]

He he, I'll certainly share my insights when I feel it's necesarry however for my own product I prefer to have sole creative power.

Besides, while similar in premise my setting will very greatly in scope and timeframe. How so? Well we'll just have to wait and see, it is sadly the 3rd on the list of my products to roll out when the license agreement is rolled out.

[Robotman]

Hopefully this will be a Green Ronin specific True 20 product as it was conceived here in their forums.

We just need to get to work.

[Robotman]

Been away for a time, and back now. Anyone still interested in reopening this?

[Robotman]

Anyone still interested in continuing this thread?

[jaldaen]

Wow... I totally forgot about this thread... I'll keep an eye out in case it gets cooking again... as for myself... I've been busy with Nevermore material, classes, and life in general

[Robotman]

I am going to clean it up and relook t everything. Spread the word.

[fellwalker]

I don't know if this is what you're looking for, and it's quite rough and unfinished, but I had this idea given the thoughts bandied about...


Dav took a drink of water when he had stopped to adjust the wrapping about his nose and mouth that kept the sand and ash from his mouth. The windriver had shifted a month ago and stayed longer then the for’asters had ever seen. Its hot wind had turned snow and ice into mud and green had erupted across the land. It was a dangerous time. Supplies had been stretched as far as possible but Dav had known that sooner or later the Elders would call on him and the other rangers. Spring was always a danger. In winter one might be frozen solid by a sudden snap, fall into a rime covered crevasse, jumped by lurkers for one’s gear and flesh, or hunted by those beasts that survived the cold but spring brought life and the Mother moved quickly to enjoy it. Green quickly covered everything growing fast and wild. All manner or creatures awoke to ease pangs of hunger and breeding. Bugs (and Dav truly hated these) were everywhere seemingly thirsty for some part of his body. It was said that the first springs were not so bad and people came out to live under the sun but that was not the case now. Immediately around Bos was safe enough and the people had to lay down crops as quickly and widely as possible but to roam away from patrols or linger after dark was to give up life if one was not prepared.
Dav had known that there would be a need to scout the area for dangers and resources that the sun and windriver had revealed and each season forced him farther and farther away. The nights before he left Bos were always intense when he and Mikel said their unspoken and passionate goodbyes. Dav always geared up and left before his husband awoke. It was better that way. In the first nine days Dav had already evaded lurker hunting parties which were larger than last year’s. The furred dragons weren’t as much a danger now, but Dav had stumbled upon not one but two nesting sites and furry drags were highly territorial during nesting. Dav would need gather a crew to corner and kill a bull and his harem to take the meat and large clutches of eggs. These rangings were a lot of work besides survival. Lurker camps, fallen ‘scrapers, and other updates to the maps had to be noted. Useable piles of steel, coal, and wood found. Precious metals and gems gathered for trade. Most importantly, traveling to the other domes to exchange messages, news, and arrange supply trades. Those were the longest ranges. Providence Kingdome, a strong and well-armed town of some thousands had not opened their gates and had not responded to Dav’s calls in the three days he had lingered there. Dav had buried a cache of mail in the prearranged spot and someone would return before the windriver left and winter returned and then again in the next spring before counting the dome dead. He hoped that there was a good reason for their silence. The leaders there could be cruel but it could not be denied that the Providencians were respected as far south as Trent-dome and could be relied upon to have the most current news from Nyc. The trade between Bos and Providence Kingdome was always needed and mutually helpful. Dav was now pushing towards Hart Fort. It wasn’t a dome but rather a walled village of jotenbrood. Jotenbrood were giant, crude, misshapen manlike creatures from far to the north. They were quick to anger and quicker to violence but could be negotiated with if insult could be avoided. Dav’s master had dealt with them and had convinced both Bos and the Providencians to open trade with them instead of hunting them down. Dav had seen them in a hunt and been present at their moots and knew first hand what a terrible toll would be paid by either dome before the jotenbrood were destroyed. Jots were stronger and faster than their knotted and twisted bodies suggested. They were seemingly immune to the cold and when roused would rend men apart. Dav always felt on edge amongst them and although was accorded a small measure of respect for his master’s reputation and his own actions on their behalf he knew better than to be at peace in their presence. They were days away yet and Dav had farther yet to go before he set camp so he stood, stretched and set out.
Over hills of rust and crumbled black shattered roads Dav traveled stopping only to camp in seclusion or investigate locations of interest for scavenging. Days had come and go. He needed to reach the Jots soon. His guns were short of homemade shot and his meager foodstuffs low. His pack was bulging with small gifts and precious items and was slowing him down more than he liked but to enter the Jotenbrood village without tokens of respect was not wise. Dav had met with more than three lurker hunting parties and the two that he could not have avoided had left him hurt and without his short blade. The very presence of so many lurkers so near Hart Fort worried him. The Jotenbrood looked upon the warped and horribly mutated cannibalistic lurkers with disgust and went to great lengths to ensure their destruction. Unless he had read the stars and landmarks wrongly and was off course, Dav felt sure that Jot patrols would have challenged him by now. Only when he had climbed the rust covered skeleton of a building and looked out over the terrain with his eyepiece did Dav confirm his fears and gain new ones. Indeed, a claw of icy fear dragged down his spine. In his eyepiece Dav could see the Jotenbrood village lying open and unguarded near to the Conicut River. Their fields nearby untilled and their fishing pontoons nothing but burned out wrecks. There was movement but whomever it was that moved down among the Jot’s cellar homes, capped by the tube bodies of Old World flying machines, were too small to be Jotenbrood. Nearby, however, movement alerted Dav’s ear and he shrank into the depression in the steel beam keeping still and ready to pull his rifle to bear. Sweeping into view came a brilliant light that illuminated all the shadowed regions around the overgrown ruins. Impossibly thin beings seemed to drift in Dav’s direction. Six of the beings arrayed in robes of spotless gold and white rustling as if made of the finest chain. Lances of ivory and burnished steel held at their sides shimmered at the cruel tips much as sunlight through lost heat in the winter. All six of the beings wore masks of similar white chased in colored enamels and metals in varied designs with eyes that glowed with visible white light. In places where flesh presumably could be seen Dav noted that the beings’ skin was even whiter than their raiment, almost translucent and shimmering where the sun shone upon it as if moistened paper. Yet, it was not the shining host that stole Dav’s breath but the one amidst them. Floating…. floating in the center of the group moved a vision both terrible and wondrous. Layers of gauze-like silver and shifting pastel colors and bright golden light seemed to cover a subtly curved and stretched woman’s body. Upon it lay a mask even more lifelike than that of the guards about her with features severe and sharp. Her lips held the softest hue of pink and great cascades of gold hair fell from her head that danced with her gown on gusts of winds that seemed to have been tamed immediately around her from the fierce gusts that whipped Dav’s clothing simply by her presence. She moved as if with no care even as her detail moved with precision and discipline. Dav remembered his master’s fire tales of the Alfheim, the Radiant Ones, and his vague warnings and directions to avoid them but he had never actually seen them and neither had Dav so he hadn’t thought them true. There were so many tales out of the wastes, from the Great Winters, and the Time Before. Dav had little time for much of it. Such things didn’t help one feed the hungry or avoid becoming a lurker’s dinner but here was dream made real and Dav was resolved to reveal himself from above them when the Jotenbrood warrior roared from his hiding place in anger and fell upon the Alfheim guard. The seemed to not even notice his presence but for a shift in position as three of the guard moved to stand before the Lady amongst them and presented their lances, tips up, boldly before them. Two moved to stand on either side of the Lady as the last turned to guard the rear and these latter three leveled their lances. Even as the two who had moved to the sides of the Lady thrust their lances at the Jot sending ripples of the waves of seeming heat about the lance tips snapping at the roaring threat, the Jotenbrood’s sword of jagged black iron impacted a field before the upturned lances that seemed to deflect the wide blade from surely severing one of the guard in two, Dav was sure. It did not stop the attack entirely and even as one of the snapping waves of shimmering lance fire impacted the Jotenbrood’s shoulder and tore his free hand and arm off with shearing force the black jagged sword caught a guard’s mask tearing it free as the sword tore into some of the armor of his chest. The Jotenbrood roared with rage and shock even as he brought his sword up to thrust into the noticeable breach in the defensive field caused by the dropped tip of the wounded guard’s lance. It was the guard and his scream of pain that made Dav lose his bowels. Such a sound came from no fair creature and the upturned mask on the ground was agape and wide-eyed in obvious torment. It writhed in pain and silent screams. Dav turned to look at the guard to see how deeply the flesh had been torn only to discover the Alfheim’s true face was a horror to behold. Pale stretched sloughing skin failed to reach to the center of the visage and wet glistening grey-pink flesh tinged with too little blood seeped onto the ground. Its nose was but a empty socket as were its eyes which were empty gaping holes tinged a bright blood-red in its long skull. Small fleshy bundles of muscle and nerves quivered at points around and within the mask’s area searching for the tormented covering crying blood from its interior surface and from the extinguished eyes. It’s tattered lips screamed a shrill sound even as the Alfheim dropped to his knees to search blindly for the mask. The one-armed Jotenbrood sprayed gore from his multiplying wounds even as he exploited the opening to hammer the guards driving his blade through one of the firing lancers dropping him in an unmoving pile. The lancers weapons erupted silently impacting the Jot’s body or slicing into it as the guards swept back and forth trying to avoid the Jot’s fury and defend their seemingly indifferent Lady. Ultimately, the Jotenbrood last thrust placed a lance at his gut and a ripple from its tip tore his entrails from him and onto the ground. He fell to the ground beside the blinded Alfheim who, at finding his facial covering, held it before his visage and brought it towards his face and the desperate cilia within the mask burrowed into the guard's face drawing itself back upon the Alfheim’s face and re-igniting its eyes. His features shuddered and gasped in pain but soon settled into his initial serene porcelain peace. His dead companion was examined by his fellows and shouldered by one. The Lady seemed to suddenly notice him and touched his forehead with a gentle brush of her gloveless hand. A boney open sore possessed of no nails that displayed tender momentary affection before withdrawing into her gown and becoming covered again. With that the party moved back towards the village and Dav wondering whether he had seen the last of these unearthly creatures.

Too crazy, not what was anticipated or wanted?

[Robotman]

crazy how life keeps you away from things. Almost 3 yrs since I evisited this. Great stuff. We should continue.