Nightmare setting Creation: Dark Sun Weekend General

>The Mechanical Men, once the proud defenders of a rising kingdom, have been reduced to mindless monsters.
>Powered by solar energy, the Black Sun's rays have corrupted them from the inside out, driving them to fight anything that stands in their path.
>They are often rounded up by the Lord of Fires and thrown onto his enemies during conquests.

>However, there are a precious few mechanical men who are not corrupted.
>They were made with internal engines powered by Ethereal Arts, the magics of the long slain Abstracts.
>With this power source, they march across the lands, slaying each of their corrupted brothers.
>The tragedy is that these Ethereal Machines were prototypes. They burn through more energy than can be put into them at one time.
>One day, they will all rust and fall. But until that day, they battle on.

>The pasts of the Dark Lords are vague at best and lost to time at worst. Very few remember who these Dark Lords were back when they were known as the Bright Nobles.
>This is the same for the Lord of Black Waters. No one can say for certain what he may have been like before being corrupted by the Black Sun.
>Yet some believe there are hints in the strangest of places.
>A nursery rhyme sung by rebel mothers to their children that speaks against the Dark Lords mentions a single line about this Lord's lands sinking to the sea, along with his "sons and daughters."
>Most would ignore such a line as just a way to keep the rhyme, but the Lords behavior suggests that there may be some truth to it.
>For example, he does not invade the sunken cities of the gilled men by force, only taking them when they are surrendered to him.
>Along with this, his branded gilled men can be seen searching these cities for artifacts of all shapes and sizes to bring to the Dark Lord.
>Whether there is any true sentimentality for people he may have lost, or if this is just the strange behaviors of a mad ruler, who can say?

bump

>Dredge is the currency of the world now, cast off metal not fit enough for construction turned into the money of the Branded.
>While the smelting pits that lead to the creation of these coins are hard to replicate, only being found in the centers of Dark Lord societies, forgery is not impossible, and can be a big problem for any lands trying to have some resemblance to civilization.
>As a result, particularly keened eyed Branded are given the opportunity to rise through the ranks by studying the dredge, each possible curve, each flaw that is allowed, until they can perfectly tell a real dredge from a fake.
>They work in marketplaces and trading posts, ensuring that trade is legitimate.
>Any foul play suspected is punished severely.

Bumping this. Thanks to whoever made this thread.

There are many beasts in the world, and they all have a particular habit of killing each other and killing any human they see. There's always a new creature being discovered, or some new strain of mutant, almost all of them blood thirsty. What's unique about the monsters of this world though is that they are less likely to attack someone or something the more mutations it has. A tentacled faced hound creature is more likely to eat a normal human than they would a man with tentacles growing out of their head. Perhaps this is because the Black Sun desires that its corrupted beings have more safety on the planet than the non-corrupt do. Or perhaps because there are so many mutated variations on creatures, a monster will confuse a heavily mutated being as a variation of its own species.

>The Watching Eyes of the Lord Of Cities see all things within the dark cities built by the Dark Lord, observing the countless Branded who slave away in service to him.
>These macabre Watchers are even used to hunt down any who would dare to try and rebel against the Dark Lord.

>These Watching Eyes were actually the result of a deal between the Architect and the Vermin Lord. In exchange for these elite watchers, the Lord of Cities helped build onto the massive underground ruins that the Lord of A Thousand Eyes lives in.

> Being extensions of the Vermin Lord, the Watching Eyes are infused with his dark essence, which has only been strengthened by the vile magics of the Architect.
>This combination of terrible power makes the Watching Eyes a truly terrible foe to face.

The most effective way to hide in the city from these beings is also the most dangerous, becoming enveloped in the complicated politics of the city itself. Through alliances, betrayal, subtle moves right under people's noses, and other such moves, you can get a lot done both for and against the Dark Lord. The danger is that you never know which person you talk to is someone you can trick, or is someone tricking you, ready to tell a Watching Eye everything.

>Watching Eyes are mostly silent, watching from afar and noting whatever they see, but they are capable of speech.
>When they speak, it is a grating sound that tears at the mind. Listening to a Watching Eye speak has in fact caused many unfortunate people to have their brains destroy themselves from the raw trauma of the sound of their voice.

During a Red Moon, the Dark Lords are brought into a catatonic state, in too much pain to move or speak. Their followers are driven to a madness even greater than that of a normal eclipse, some committing suicide from the agony.

Legends say that one once heard the pained whispers of the Dark Lord of Mountains as he slumped down in his throne. They say he spoke with the voice of the Black Sun itself, cursing the Abstracts and the Moon for denying him the world in such a way.

>It is said, that on the nights of the Red Moon the Mourners will sing in ancient tongues, a song that resonates within the hearts of all pure souls and drives the darkness back.
>Some have taken to calling this song "Luna's Lament"

Legend says that the Red Moon is the result of the true death of an Abstract, its final moments acting as revenge against the Black Sun. Whether true or not, it has many curators scurrying to find as much info on the Abstracts as they can. For while the exact number of Abstracts has been forgotten, the thought of losing the Red Moons entirely once all the Abstracts are fully gone is a frightful one indeed, for it would signal a crushing blow against the resistance.

>From what the Mourners have said regarding the Abstracts, their numbers where once "As Plentiful As The Stars In the Sky".
>Perhaps it is telling, that with each passing year the number of stars seems to dim more and more.

>The Star Lord's star maps are coveted items for these researchers.
>Frequently updated and difficult to acquire, they are perhaps the best guess anyone has as to how many more blood moons there might be, if the stories are to be believed.

>Of course finding the Star Lords maps is a challenge in and of itself. The vaults which the Star Lord stores many of his assorted artifacts are usually located in their own pockets of distorted space, guarded by myriads of nightmarish creatures and nefarious traps.

>Along with the physical dangers of the pockets of space, there is the danger of perception as well. For time works differently in these pocket dimensions. What may be a an hour searching for a star map for one, might in reality be a day, a week, or a year if the differences are extreme. It can also work the opposite way. A year trapped in the pocket dimension may only be a day in reality.

>Upon finding the Star map one may think that they are safe, that they are finally free, but in truth the danger has only just begun.
>For the maps themselves are imbued with a corruptible power, a power that can very easily twist and corrode those who try to take them if the proper precautions are not taken.

>Ironically enough, these defenses make the Dark Lord of Stars one of the few Dark Lords to harvest world flesh for reasons beyond keeping it away from rebels.
>The Star Lord needs his followers to occasionally relocate or better hide the star maps, and while mutations are usually part of everyday life for Branded, the corruptive power of the star maps would burn through too many assistants if left unchecked.
>So Branded specifically tasked to handle star maps are given heavy World Leather clothing and protective gear to best handle the corruption.

>The Star Lord even has a select few of his most loyal servants tasked with transporting some of his more powerful star maps to other locations, the raw corruptive power of these maps warping the land around them.
>These special servants are gifted with enchanted artifacts in order to protect them from the reality-corroding power of these unique star maps.

>Some believe that these artifacts must be using Ethereal Arts, or are coming from Abstract remnants.
>This drives many, from Mourners to clerics to simple treasure hunters, to attempt to further investigate (or steal) these artifacts from the Star Lord's servants, as having such powerful counter-corruption tools would be a serious boon to the resistance (and fetch for a great deal of dredge).

seems like interest in this setting has died. oh well

I honestly just think the thread came on at a bad time, Friday while people are still probably working until night, instead of Saturday. Plus it's harder to get into continuous setting making threads, there's a perceived barrier of entry. I'd wait till Saturday to see if things pick up. And if not, there's still like, 3 other threads worth of content to work with and do something great with the setting.

Not really. Its just pretty late, and some people might be sleeping. Of course, many others are probably spending their time circle-jerk ingredients not any one of the dozen 40k threads, so yeah.

Story user here. I didn't realize that the thread was going to be up on a Friday! To bring life and fun to the party in the way a chef would, delicately adding ingredients to spice and cool his guests pallettes, I will be writing a story about the Culinaries of the Dark Lord of the Hounds today!

Stay Tuned!

Absolutely brilliant user! I was just going to sleep after bumping by worldbuilding thread a bit, but I think I'm going to stay up to ensure that this gets bumped.

Oh wow, glad to see you're here. Obviously there's only been a few of us in the thread today (probably because it was posted Friday, probably because of the gap) but we did get some neat things in, I think. Still, a good story ought to really elevate the thread a bit.

>The culinary minds of the world have lost much of their flair, their "pizazz" that they had with a lot of the food being oversaturated, corrupted and otherwise bland from the rotting of most ingredients
>Some chefs thought it was rather unpleasant when their ingredients either rose to ask why their body parts were placed on separate tables.
>Herbs and spices decided that they would rather not stick around and see the end of the world, and decided a decaying death seemed like a much better game plan, really.
>With the ingredients of the previous world essentially nonexistent and kept in the Dark Lord of the Plants' strange seed bank to sate his perverse desires of fatherhood, many either became merchants, some became rot farmers, others apothecaries, and many, many became the bottom of a flower bed for the Plant Lord.
>Some renowned chefs known for their desire to really get in the thick of danger for the freshest, most robust ingredients welcomed this whole "Black Sun" deal and thought that it would invite some new, peculiar tastes for their dishes.
>In some strange manner, the Dark Lord of the Hunt saw these as his own court. That they were a strange bunch, but their Hunt was one of knowledge, skill and art. That they would be able to understand the pursuit, the chase, the capture, but would skillfully demonstrate how terrifying that they are with their flurry of cleavers, saucepans and fire.
>The Dark Lord approached them, without the use of bureaucracy or assistants, and in his presence, he gathered these scattered chefs, these Culinaries of the Hunt, and appointed them a mission.
>To Hunt down the most extravagant beast that they could find, and, with the resources of the Fire Lord, prepare them a feast fit to their tastes of brutality and passion.
>The Culinaries were in a flourish, gathering their ingredients, their tools and their weapons, telling their assistants to sharpen their cleavers, and roared for their new Lord.
>This new, odd Hunt was on.
(1/?)

I really enjoy seeing how passions and art forms adapt in this setting, so already I'm excited.

>Despite the Lord of the Hounds' strange fondness to these peculiar chefs of days long past, he still found it odd to see that their band would stop every now and again to rifle in the dirt and the brush, sorting through corpses and plants alike to look for new spices, experimental flavors, and mysterious tracks.
>The band of Culinaries had decided that they would hunt something extravagant that would show their new lord that they were a force to be reckoned with.
>These crazy, devoted few are absolutely devoted to this Hunt, their passions twisting to show that every action that they would do relates to the dish, its sides, its flavor, its presentation.
>Of course, their passions were always this robust, but now, with their wolfish grins and perverse curiosity for flavor, these artists would kill a wyvern for their Lord. To prove that they would Hunt anything that he so desired, and that the Culinaries would take the most extreme, strange creature that they could find, and turn it into lunch.
>Entirely willing to sacrifice themselves for the ultimate dining experience, this new hunger within them was not one for food, or flavor, but their own passions, unchecked by society, something not curdled by the Black Sun's touch, unlike anything else.
>This does not mean they are unskilled, however, in this long journey, using the shifting lands and skies to track the Wyvern by the food that it dropped on its flights, where it landed, and the acidity in the air from its flight paths and breath, the chefs hoped that the only blood shed would be from the creature's flesh reaching their cutting boards.
>With a meal must come a show, so their misguided devotion occasionally shows itself in the form of dawdling with merchants and farmers to find spices that would melt the jaw off of a Branded, to herbs that would shock the taste buds of a Thunderman, and color that would wow the Plant Lord's gardeners.
>Presentation, exposition, the Hunt. Their passion.
(2/?)

I'm lurking. Really enjoying all the concepts being created here. Carry on, you beautiful bastards.

Happy to hear, user. If you're new, you can also check out the older threads for more context and sweet sweet lore.

>With the Lupine Lord watching from the shadows, the excellent chefs had found the prey that they had sought.
>The pursuit had brought them to a coastline, where a wyvern had tried traveling, but was essentially bound to the coast's dark horizon by a large windstorm, blowing away many of the tools of the chefs, and making many of their stances unsteady on the wavering sand.
>The Culinaries were unphased by this ominous wind, licking their knives and cleavers, barbecue forks and spatulas raised in a hearty charge against the elegant, venomous creature.
>The wyvern cried out to the staff of chefs, saying that its mission was to deliver light to the Voidnarrow, to save humanity, and bring peace.
>The culinaries were offended that this creature would dare take away their wonderful world of chaotic inspiration and culinary unknowns, and considered the pleading wyvern to be an enemy to their main dish.
>The wyvern's cries fell on deaf ears, as she attempted escape by darting along the coast, the chefs almost surprised by her speed.
>Some of them, however, had hunted dragons and drakes before in the lands now known as the Silent South, and had prepared for her speedy escape, avoiding her venomous spit and sailing a weighted net into the air from the power of the windstorm.
>Bound and clipped, the wyvern crashed into the dark beach, the Black Sun beaming and buzzing in approval, shining a beacon of dark light towards her frail body, as the culinaries grinned, raised a solitary knife, and extinguished the life of the humanitarian creature, disposing of the Last Light in the black waters, a box made of mirrors lost to the sea.
>With the swing of this knife came victory, spoils, and roars of cheering, but their day was not yet done. This was only the start of their Hunt. To now return, to prepare, and to appease their Lords with utmost gusto and vigor. This was the way of the Chef. The culinary hunt is not over yet.
(3/4)

>The wyvern cried out to the staff of chefs, saying that its mission was to deliver light to the Voidnarrow, to save humanity, and bring peace.
>The culinaries were offended that this creature would dare take away their wonderful world of chaotic inspiration and culinary unknowns, and considered the pleading wyvern to be an enemy to their main dish.
This blend of mysterious lore and gallows humor is top tier.

I'm glad you enjoyed it! I take a small inspiration from Terry Pratchett in that I like making a bit of the extraordinary ordinary, but I love gallows humor, I feel like it helps world building and makes some of these monsters of characters seem more entertaining.

I'm going to take a quick restroom break and finish the story afterward. I want people to guess about what inspired me to make a story about the Culinaries. I'll give you a hint: It's a character from a Nintendo game.

>After lugging their precious, heavy payload back to the plains of the Lupine Lord himself, awaited by their master and the Dark Lord of the Fire.
>The Dark Lord admired their gusto and their passion, for he, too, enjoyed the company of artists that breathe fire with their inspiration, their anger, and entertained him with their paintings of beautiful wartorn fields.
>With the wyvern corpse preciously buried underneath soil to seep the venom and poison out of the flesh, the chefs sharpened their tools of trade, ignited their new burners, readied their various herbs and ingredients for this new proving ground, as allies now are at each others throats to make the most superb, extravagant dish.
>Their assistants giving them a wide berth, the culinaries' grins are wide, toothy and dark, yet nothing like the Black Sun could ever give birth to, nothing with such burning ambitions and dark fantasies.
>The wyvern's poison finally drained, the chefs shout, stab and burn anyone even getting close to the limited, precious meat of their catch, the Lords watching in bewilderment as such insane learnedness, and wicked wit, using each ingredient to its utmost potential with the meat, making each dish trained to its flavor.
>Wyvern sushi, wyvern cutlet, wyvern curry, wyvern tenderloin, wyvern stew with a death lamb sauce, and gravemint garnish, to no expense, even a wyvernvenom brew to drink for the Lord of the Fire.
>Desserts, full course meals, and festivities of chefs battling, cooking and yelling for the course of an entire week, without fail.
>The most extravagant foods are now cooked by the Culinaries, and those depraved enough, passionate enough, can join their ranks proven their strength and tracking skill, but their skills with a blade in battle must be matched by those with a blade in the kitchen, for strength must be matched by finesse and intentions, along with their crazy, garbled charisma.
>Their fervor outshines even the Black Sun.

Delicious story, user. Keep up the great work.

>Delicious
You. I like you.
If no one can guess, this was inspired by this little fellow in pic related.
I thought that it would be interesting if there was this cult of people that would take these strange new creatures in a world, and rather than just fight them, turn them into delicacies because they felt like it. I thought it would be fun in a dark setting rather than some perverse joke that was in the background.

Anyway, I'll see you guys tomorrow! It's late, and I need some rest. I'll write some more tomorrow, I look forward to this thread whenever it's up!

thought it was pic related at first

>When the Abstracts died, the clerics who worshiped them were lost, unsure of what to do.
>Some stayed committed to their faith, studied it further, and harnessed what powers they could to become Mourners.
>Others turned to direct violence, traveling the corrupted lands on a quest to smite all evil.
>And some...just gave up.
>Finding power with the Abstract of Dreams, these disillusioned clerics put themselves in a deep sleep they would never wake up from, escaping into a shared dreamworld forged from their fond memories of the past.
>Hopeless from far and wide, from rebels to Branded, travel the world in search of these clerics, and the dream world they have created.

>They will not find them, however, for the clerics have died long ago, with only their bones and dust remaining.
>Their corpses lay next to many other sleeping bodies, some old, some new.
>For those who enter the endless sleep do not remain pristine. Their bodies slowly succumb to death.
>Yet their minds still live on, one one form or another.
>For you see, in this crafted dreamscape, all dreamers are connected.
>And slowly the minds of the dying, their memories, hopes, and aspirations, bleed into the minds of the young.
>So in truth, the dreamscape is not a large collection of minds dreaming together, but a few sleeping individuals with the memories of many others now ingrained into their dreams.
>The dream may be far more pleasing than the real world the Black Sun rules, but it is a dream one cannot escape.
>For those who choose to share in the dream shall one day become it.

Afternoon bump.

Just woke up, so I'm going to Bump this a bit

The Lord of Vermin is a strange lord in that his branded are unwelcome in his land. A singular ancient castle deep in the mountains. Only his children occupy that land, and visitors seeking his favor.
Indeed the Lord of a Thousand Eyes rarely cares for his own branded and shortly after their first encounter he will send them back to where they came.
His branded are taken from the destitute and forsaken of the other Lords, and from those who survive in the wilds. Those forgotten in their own homes. With his blessing they return and hope to simply survive.
Those who exceed that, those who breed, those who surpass. Those are his truly blessed, those are his Children, who he will welcome back. Most don't however, so that they may continue growing as a cancer, infecting the local lands and growing their own families, with no regards to those that had forsaken them.
The Lord of Vermin does not defend his children, and thus the other Lords merely exterminate the rat's dens, as they appear without bringing their wrath to the Lord. Knowing that these groups are everywhere and may be useful to them in the future.

Because of this strange rule, many question what actually lives in the Vermin Lord's lands. For if it's not the Branded hiding in those deep, ruined kingdoms, what is?

Monsters. Beasts. Rats. Worms. All kinds of disgusting abominations crawling through the dark. All working for the Dark Lord, traveling through the earth, spying, moving back and forth to rely information back to the Dark Lord.

Here some thoughts.
Population generaly should avoid sun rays so generic clothes must be something arabic, lots of cloth covering all body and face. Except those who seeks Sun energy, so black mages, witches, dark lords have more open costumes. Witches probably wear masks to save face from mutations.

Definitely, clothing and how much skin someone is exposing says a lot about a person. A low ranking Branded who's slaving away all day isn't going to have great sun protection, and they're going to suffer some nasty mutations because of it. A black mage or high ranking Branded is going to have them more open clothing, but by choice, letting certain parts get more mutated than others. Dark Lords are potentially shape shifters and they're all about dark energy, so they can wear whatever they want. And rebels/people who don't want mutations are wearing special protection like World Flesh leather and the like.

I do agree with the arab vibe, or at the very least very baggy clothing.

There are few who stand against the Black Sun as terrifying as the Purifiers, clerics and monks driven mad from their hatred of corruption, traveling the world to kill anyone and anything they perceive as tainted, no matter how extensive the corruptions are.

Though they are not beyond attempting to redeem people, in their own twisted way. The removal of a brand is a painful and complicated task, requiring delicate purifying rituals and a strong willed, willing Branded to undergo the process. The Purifiers will simply take a Branded, cut out the burnt flesh, and hope for the best. This almost always results in death from shock.

>My name is Kochello, and I am a clown.
>That is right, a clown. A payed fool.
>You would not think a clown could find work in these dark days, but you would be mistaken, for have more dredges than most.
>This is because I serve the Black Sun Ballet, the traveling show of decadence and debauchery, and pay is good.
>Along with this, I am away from hard labor and the heat of battle. Anyone in my position would think it to be a dream come true.
>Yet for me, to be a clown is to suffer.
>Why, you may ask? You see, the Black Sun Ballet serves two purposes. It must praise the Black Sun and all it represents, and ridicule all signs of rebellion.
>And that is where I come in.
>In the stage plays we put on, I play the foolish rebel who is killed by his own stupidity. I play the bumbling mutant who refused to take a brand. I play the mad cleric praying to an Abstract long since dead.
>And the audience laughs and laughs, siding with the clever and charming dark mages, loyal Branded, and masked Dark Lords played by my fellow actors.
>I should be happy that I bring some joy to an audience that damn well deserves some levity, but I know with each joke, each gag, each bit of foolishness, I teach them a clear lesson.
>To stand against the Dark Lords is to be an idiot.
>And that is lesson burns me whenever I teach it.

So I've been thinking about what type of class system would work best for this setting, and I'm starting to think that it would actually make more sense for every character to start out with generally similar stats, and then force the player to specifically level certain stats if they want to become a fighter, rogue, wizard. Fits with the idea of everyone being a weakling and needing to slowly become great by training in specific skills, not just starting with those skills and building up on them.

Yeah that makes sense perhaps what faction they belong to might mean that they are better at a certain thing than another eg. A branded of the lord of vermin would be be better at stealth rather than a thundermen

As referenced as this game's already been for grimdark settings on Veeky Forums, I'm almost imagining the level system being similar to how Dark Souls handles classes. For this setting, you have a starting class that's determined by where you come from (lord of vermin, lord of fire, rebel, thunderman, ect) but then are given free range to level what you want. So if you want to go purely in one direction to best fit a specific class, you can, but you can also be a mix of things easily.

This is an extremely good, yet grim, representation of the entertainment industry today with a great understanding of psychology and how people react to ridicule. They think it is their own ideas, and parrot those who taught them how to ridicule. I love the idea of a traveling, mischievous carnival and ballet that goes around to every kingdom for fun and to enforce the Lords' will. Amazing work.

I genuinely think Burning Wheel is a good idea for this kind of system, where points and stats are determined from upbringing, and can change with the character's experiences, ideas, or life. I also like that it's fairly classless, and is more of a vague system best for storytelling and worldbuilding, as there is no set "setting".

I'm glad you like it, friendo! I really love the idea of corruption not just being a literal thing, but something that works on a mental level. People don't just become cultists overnight, they need to be put in the right mindset to embrace destruction and doom, and what better way to ease them into it than through entertainment?

Why did you call it Dark Sun when it's Black Sun Rising
Got me all excited for actual Dark Sun

It's neither Black Sun Rising or Dark Sun. These threads kinda have a proper name that doesn't get it mixed up with something else.

So, you got any more stories planned tonight or are you just lurking for now?

Just lurking, but I do plan to write at least one today. I'm thinking of maybe the Branded of the Dark Lord of the Plants, but I'm not certain. I'm trying to form it right now while cooking, as I can see my monitor from my kitchen pretty well.

That does have some good potential, since so far the Plant Lord seems like one of the more directly evil characters.

>The information known about the 'Favored Children' of the Lord of Vermin are very sparse, it mostly grew out of a single tale.
> An individual who claimed to be The Prophet of Filth appeared in a town controlled by The Lord of the City. He told his tale, and then was never seen from again. Many believe this act was one of rebellion against his Lord, some believe that The Lord of the City took him to gather information on it's fellow Lord, although some believe it was the Lord of a Thousand Eyes itself, playing a cruel joke...
>The man began his preaching in the slums, and began his story with his own tale. He belonged to a troop of hunters, branded under the Lord of Wolves. His troop had fallen behind the others and was left. The group was in desperate need of shelter, and they had found some. A massive hole at the edge of the woods. Without thinking the group piled into the mouth of the cave and did what they needed, hoping against hope that the others would come for them once the storm subsided. He went deeper into the hole looking to make sure they weren't better off in the storm. That's when me met one of the favored children, in the dark all he could make out where dozens of red eyes, of various sizes and shapes and the chitterings of rodents. It spoke in human tongue however, it informed them if they provided food for it they could stay peacefully until the storm ended.
>The storm lasted many days, they put what food they could in the depths and stayed at the mouth of the cave, but on the second day one of their members had gone missing. One more on the next day, then another. After nearly half their men had gone missing in only a fortnight the Prophet went to ask their host what had happened. He didn't have the nerve to ask when he saw what happened, they where moving closer to the mouth of the cave, they where many rats seemingly connected at some point, but what horrified him the most was the sight of a crew mate among the mass...

>The prophet ran, without looking back, without thinking of his crew, without fear of the storm outside. He kept running, only taking brief breaks to eat what he could and drink when he could.
>There was a whining in his ear, it wouldn't stop. It only settled when he moved towards the mountains and so he went, if only to stop the horrible pitch for a moment he would have gone anywhere.
>He grew ragged and deathly thin, but he lived and so he made it to a church carved out of the mountain side, and when he stepped in the horrible noise finally stopped.
>Inside this church there was a colony of people however, in thick burlap clothing that covered every inch of their body. They welcomed him and asked nothing in return, they talked of the Lords and the greatness of the Black Sun, but they also talked about the wretched few who where forsaken and left behind. Who where destined to die without the love of a Lord to guide them.
>This was a pain the Prophet knew all too well, he tried to ask who they served and their only response was 'We serve all.'
>The prophet stayed in that church for many weeks, he even began to gain a bit of a belly. The prophet laughed at this retelling and shook his girth with pride.
>Things seemed great, greater than he had ever known until a day of the Red Moon...

>Have you ever heard the tale of the Burning Fishmen?
>Oh yes, you'll like this one, it's a real oddity.
>You know those gilled folk? The ones that breath underwater like? Work for the Lord of Black Waters?
>Well, not all of them like that Dark Lord very much.
>In fact, some of them hated the Dark Lord so much that they traveled to land so searching for the rebels they heard so much about.
>They rushed out while a slave caravan was moving through the Black Sea, wearing strange World-Flesh leathers unlike anything on the surface, stuff made from World-Flesh only found at the bottom of the sea.
>And this band of angry fishmen, they fought through the entire caravan's guard, and made it to land.
>They looked for rebels, crushing everyone who stood in their path.
>But sadly for them, no rebels could help their plight.
>"If you fishfolk can't fight the Dark Lord underwater, what makes you think surface folk could possibly help", they were told.
>And every other group, every other faction, none of them would give the gilled people a helping hand.
>And this made them real angry. Angrier than they'd ever been before.
>They marched on a suicide path right to the closest Dark Lord they could find. If they couldn't kill their own Dark Lord, maybe they could kill someone else's.
>That's when they met the Lord of Fire.
>And the Fire Lord looked down on them, these angry gilled folk fighting their hardest to kill him.
>Obviously the Fire Lord didn't fall, they barely left a scratch, but he saw their anger, their rage, and he delighted in it.
>So he offered them a deal. Let him be the one to brand them, and they can take out their rage out on the world! Branded and Unbranded alike.
>And they did. Their gills shot out steam, their fins cooked with molten magma, and they were transformed and mutated into the Fire Lord's Burning Fishmen!
>Now they skim across the black waves in what's left of their deep sea world flesh, hunting the branded of the Water Lord and anyone else.

>On this night the whining returned, but it wasn't from inside his head, it was from outside his room.
>Through the slitted grate on his door he could see the members of the church for the first time without their robes. Their form was almost human but ripping through the soft flesh of their face was a proboscis clear and hallow. From their rears a clear sac protruded and sprouting from their backs where massive clear wings.
>Some where not like this however, and he began to see why as the church members descended upon them, the clear sacs quickly filling with the red elixir drained from their bodies.
>The prophet wouldn't survive long here, luckily he had been around for long enough to know of the back tunnels. Ones which the members of the church warned him to never go. Still he made his escape, and seemed to go unnoticed as the church members flew out the front in search of more prey...

This might be my favourite story yet

It was dark sun for the first two threads, the op of the third thread called it black sun rising

>The tunnels where dark, wide and deep. The light from the lantern he had taken with him was barely enough to reach the walls, but fear drove him deeper.
>When he began hearing his footsteps crunching he did not look down, only forward and sometimes behind his shoulder for he feared the members of the church more than whatever he was stepping on.
>He went to what felt like the heart of the mountain, he continued to go forward even after his light went out. He continued forward even when he felt the earth beneath his feet begin to squirm.
>He moved forward until he began to see light, a red light. The light of molten rock and fire and as he moved closer he began to look around. To see why the earth felt so alive.
>He looked at the mass of maggots that lined the walls and floor of this cavern, he looked so hard he noticed the tiny markings on their flesh. He didn't look away until he heard buzzing from around the corner.
>A cacophony of tiny wings, and the anger of a home disturbed. The light was being cut off, darkness was coming for him. No, not darkness but a mass of buzzing flies.
>He awoke on the other side of the mountain range, the buzzing in his head now clear words. They told him where to go, they told him what to say, they told him to stop talking.
>As the branded of the City began to disperse, the authorities coming to take away this madman he appeared to have already left.
>The only proof of his existence was the story in those who heard him and those they told, and a faint buzzing in their ears.

I've never played warhammer fantasy RPG, but from what i know of it i think it would be a good fit.

if you can figure out a way to get the mechanics out of the warhammer setting at least

>Nightmare mosquito men
I love it. If this is what vampires are in the setting, I'm all for it. Great story.

Much appreciated.

After watching some Pyre, and learning about its Titans, I have gained inspiration.
>The Dread Titans are bound deep within the bowels of the earth, imprisoned so deeply that few are aware of their true existence, but that does not mean that they are Incapable of acting.
>For in their terrible slumber, they are capable of manifesting their dark wills unto physical reality in the form of the Dread Stars, incarnations of their will.
>These terrible manifestations aid the Black Sun in its consumption of all things by devouring stars as they move across the sky, sacking them dry as how one would suckered marrow from a bone.
>Where these malevolent ghosts tread across the sky, only ruin and desolation remain.

I've heard really great things about Pyre so far, and now this is only adding onto my need to get it.

>The Dark Lord of the Plants is a cruel, powerful Lord. His Branded are the only ones not seen as citizens, subjects, or even slaves. They are seen purely as food. To be used as the topsoil for his true children, naught but the bottom of a flower pot.
>The plants are the real seeds of his labor, that he tends to each seed, breeding the most alluring, dangerous plants that he can splice together, made to spread, kill, and produce fruit to make more fertile "soil" for his benevolent children.
>Of course, he does have Branded servants that attend as his Scribes, and some of the most well-witted Branded are used as geneticists, gardeners, and traders to distribute his food as far as possible.
>The Branded of the Dark Lord of the Plant live in a hallucinatory haze, fed the most succulent, fattening fruits and vegetables, filled with nutrients and sweet flavor to drag people away from the sad, drab life without pleasure in the lands of the other Lords, or the rebels.
>The problem with this, is that there are a decaying amount of humans and people in his kingdom, as few volunteer of their own accord, and revere the Lord as the king of a rotten kingdom, the ruler of the wasteland, despite his lush, green forests and jungles.
>In order to combat this, the Dark Lord, in his infinite wisdom, maintains small towns beneath his forests, where he allows slaves to live if they breed and offer members of their village if they reach a population higher than 50.
>These horror-filled villages rarely enjoy the hallucinations, and are harrowed eternally. Hallow people with gaunt faces, and distressed expressions. These terrified beings are little more than cattle, hardly slaves, not even full of stimulation to be considered alive.
>Some of the specimens, however, born from the spores and the human slaves, were to become strange mutants of the spores, the plants, the flesh and the poison from the exotic plants burrowing into the villages of the land beneath the roots.
(1/?)

>The branded of the Astronomer, known by some as the “Grey Men,” at first may seem relatively blessed in terms of demands of their patron.

>After all, the Dark Lord of the Stars, in his mad ambition to chart the ever-changing celestial orgy that exists under the black sun, demands only of his indentured which he demands from himself: a manic, sleepless, endlessly vigilant cataloging of the sky above and the world below.

>Over time, eldritch energy and corruptive truths of the universe leak into the brains of the Astronomer's servants, slowly warping their bodies and minds.

>Deformities among the grey men are incredibly varied, but most suffer from encephalic growths, bleeding eyes, and a distinctly pallid grey skin.

>The Grey Men are seldom seen outside of their patron’s heavenly vestibule, they do however make trips to the surface to abduct, vivisect, and classify interesting specimens which fall from the Dark Lord’s spaceship, along with any uniquely mutated wanderers they happen upon.

>These strange horrors made of man and spores are looked upon as messiahs of the Plant Lord, and all that entails.
>They bring horror, poison, terror and spread corruption extremely quickly. Virulent messiahs and priests of the Plant Lord, they speak as though the Black Sun were directly decreeing from their mouths.
>The Dark Lord of the Plants, of course, sees these as his greatest creations. Sentient, wiley, and eternally growing and in beautiful bloom, they are his soldiers and agents to be used in power plays.
>The mutant plant-men, however, are few and far between, but are extremely devastating, emitting poison and toxins from their pores that either kill or spread fear among their targets, some stating that their most feared thoughts they had ever known came to life.
>They are illusionists, poison masters, and soldiers wrapped into one, and are utterly, mindlessly devoted to their master, with no hope of conversion.
>The Branded of the Dark Lord of the Plants see no life to be lived within his borders, but his reach is long, and his power is great. The few that keep their coherence fight for him not because they believe in his dream for the plants, but because they desperately desire for them to be proven to be better than food. That they fight not to spread his influence, but know that if they were to escape, or to fight with another faction, they would not win.
>The tactics of the Plant Lord are to destroy the psyche of his enemies, and his mages are illusionists, deceivers and masters of nature.
>Nature is no longer natural, as the true nature of the green Nature is one of true darkness, and the ones who know this are tormented souls, powerful druids that use this new wracked and ruined life of plants and animal alike to show others their hopelessness by force.
>No one is happy in the land of the Plant.
>There is only fire.
(2/2)

>A shooting star is sign of great misfortune, for in all likelihood it is not a shooting star at all, but likely a powerful eldritch mutant falling from the space station.
>Not being from Earth, there is not telling what damage the creature could do.
>And if there is an escaped creature, the Grey Men will surely come to retrieve it, along with any other interesting specimen they find along the way.

This is great stuff! It really captures the Plant Lord's cruelty and perverted sense of family, along with presenting a great breakdown of the psyche of those who serve him.

I appreciate it! I wanted to write more, but for the life of me, I could not come up with much more of a life for his Branded. They are truly without hope. It is a wasteland of hunger, desperation, and survival. I guess it really is a perfect form of nature, where only the strong survive. In his perversion of nature, his land is the purest representation of it.

Couldn't agree more. The focus on psychological combat was also a really nice touch. From everything else we know about the Plant Lord, his battle style is all about breaking moral and being outright terrifying, and seeing that reflecting in the story really helps tie everything together.

So what Branded do we not know about at this point?
We know about:
>Fire
>Plant
>Water
>Stars
>Vermin
>City
>Hounds

Do we know much about the Mountain Lord's Branded apart from mining and tech? Does that count?

Before I write a story on him, which may be finished late tonight or sometime tomorrow afternoon, his personality has barely come up in anyone's writings. He's been taken to the least. Any technological advancements seem like they are attributed to the Dark Empire, which is unrelated to him apart from the fact that he hoards their developments. From what we know of him so far, it seems that he is a loud, bellowing voice with a personality to match. He is extremely greedy, but peculiar and enjoys talking to his Branded, other Lords, and even other Branded, but is not beyond seeing them as expendable miners to forever gather his valuable minerals. While he hides in fear of the Black Sun within his mountains and the soil, it seems he is the most fervent when it comes to extinguishing the rebel camps and cities underground Gurren Lagann style by burning them to the ground and chasing any would-be insurrectionists with his legion of Nightcrawlers, so he would be the least likely to be convinced by the rebels. What does everyone else think?

The only other Branded civilians I can think of that we don't have too much detail on are the ones serving the Mountain Lord, and the ones serving the Water Lord.

We do have some details obviously, Mountain Lord has miners, Water Lord has gilled men and a few non-gilled people in his underwater base, but we don't know that much about them beyond those basics.

I guess you're right, the Water Lord's actual humanoid Branded, compared to the Gilled Ones, are hardly even brushed upon, apart from a few, prestiged souls being lab assistants. I like to think of him as a sort of Jin-Gitaxias sort of character, dwelling in a secluded area, experimenting on much, and happy to be well enough alone. His actions, as well as his Branded, may take to a different kind of Hunt. This one, in the pursuit of knowledge. Fervent, and deranged to a different degree, perhaps. Hm.

Seems like a generally solid breakdown to me. That dynamic between this perceived idea that he's hiding from the Black Sun, and how committed he is to fight those against it, could be a fun thing to play around with as you write.

What's interesting about the Water Lord is that he and the Star Lord at first seem to have a lot of similarities (secluded, researchers, control over powerful weapons) but while the Star Lord gives off more of an outward and controlled desire for knowledge, the Water Lord comes off as more isolationist and reckless in what he does. Look no further than how they both handle their weapons. The Star Lord doesn't go around shooting his space laser whenever he wants, but the Water Lord is playing is Organ of Storms whenever it pleases him.

I think the biggest difference is that it would be like an alchemist in medieval times' way of approaching research (The Researcher) and a modern-day military scientist researching physics (The Astronomer). In fact, I think that the Dark Lord of the Dark Waters should be more of a magical researcher. Perhaps an artificer, looking at the biology of others, using metals, and magics. The Star Lord seems to be more grounded in material science, space, and technology.

Yeah, I really love all the little details in it, really helps to flesh the world out. Kinda sad how it's Titans are barely given any true representation aside from being background pieces, but oh well.

I imagine the Branded of the Water lord would generally be the most human and he might use them for experiments of any kind, think vault tec from fallout. Keep them decent livable conditions without many extremes and then insert certain qualities to the surroundings. Probably put these civilizations by the sea or on floating towns so he can seclude them.

I actually like the Dark Sun being a sentient entity of it's own,instead of just being a portal to some crappy Cthulu ripoff.

Eventually,the end goal of the campaign could be to either finally complete the Dawn Machine, or to simply find a way to escape this wretched hellhole.