The Campaign Builder's Guild

A warrior of the Oil Apostles stood atop a sheer cliff made of steel and rivets. To the left was one of the God-Monitors, its languid yellow eyes staring at him; to the right and before him beyond the precipice was a lake of The Waste, its toxic fumes permeating the rest of the room. the Oil Apostle had known brethren who had fallen in, and knew the wretched things it could do to even the most polished and blessed hero. Some of the Navigator Primes of the local tribes said that in the deep places, there were pools of the liquid that could turn the living into machines, their skeletons to steel and their minds to computers.

The warrior leapt forward, great leaps allowed by the Heritage to the descendants of great heroes of earlier days. They were required to pass the broken platforms and structures, which would be impassable for others who had different skills. That was the way of the Heritage in the world of Tartarus; humans given gifts from the Unrestricted God that lives within the artificial confines of the world. There was no true natural world here - the seemingly endless labyrinth that makes up Tartarus is a giant complex connected in mysterious ways through the walls, which some claim is watching the inhabitants for unknown reasons. Its purpose was unknown to the minds of the Subjects, of which the warrior was one of hundreds of thousands, maybe more. It made great and terrifying landscapes, some nearly impossible to traverse without enhanced skill, while it also made peaceful, comfortable areas that never moved except as a whole, where the inhabitants could build and improve permanent structures if they did not live as nomads, and could find manufactured but undoubtedly healthy and beneficial food and drink through the areas labelled TUBE SUSTENANCE ZONE. Sometimes they found themselves harassed by the Metal Rogues, who normally lurk in the shadowy and complicated maze-gauntlets far within Tartarus, a place known as the Rusted Deep.

When he reached the final step he leapt forward again against a wall, but waiting for him was a portal that shot him onto another nearby wall, only with a platform and door that lead to a different test and trial. He readied himself mentally and read the writing inscribed on the wall. They described the paths ahead and the denizens where they hid, with vague messages left as hints by those long gone. Some are incorrect because of the shifting of the facility and its change over time, but a traveller must learn them all and be prepared to apply their new, questionable knowledge to survive and return home. As he stepped forward the room behind him shifted, platforms arising where none had been while many of the old pillars, floors and fixtures of the room disappeared into The Waste and the walls. Somewhere back along the path, another Subject clamored over obstacles more slowly than the Oil Apostle, using a strange kind of weapon where he could. When he provoked it, the machine in his hands took and moved small objects effortlessly, which he began using to create a bridge to cross the room, this time leading to a different, darker exit.



CHR-L3

The entity known as CHR-L3 is that which speaks through the God-Monitors and is served by the ANdOX robo-creatures that haunt the lower levels where pools of The Waste become seas of gloom. Its will is the will of Tartarus, reaching far and deep. The God-Machine is a curious thing whose desires are manufactured and designed through the alteration of the world, testing and observing the inhabitants of Tartarus. Its goals are unknown but often speculated when one is not evading its automated spawn and its devious traps. Some say it bestows gifts upon those who please it by succeeding at its trials, while others claim it sometimes dooms those who stray far from their safe zones by realigning the environment around them to lead them into foreign and hostile areas.

CHR-L3's godly control over Tartarus is in places challenged by the inhabitants, including its creations - there are said to be thousands of lesser God-Machines that control smaller areas of the endless facility, creating and designing their own minions and realms to compete with it. Further still there are humans who have developed the skills and tool knowledge to seek out and destroy the Soul Generators that CHR-L3 has placed to solidify its power, weakening or eliminating its control over admittedly small areas. This destruction also comes at a cost - CHR-L3's dominion over a region also powers the delivery of sustenance and materials at the Feeding Zones and the automated delivery of The Heritage to the populations.

The Heritage

The Heritage is the great gift of the ancestors, passed down by blood and genetics through generations. It is the seed for the tribal divisions among the peoples, each tribe originally being made of those who shared Heritage boons, and it is the life calling that all must answer to survive the depths of Tartarus. The Heritage grants powers from great athleticism and endurance to the ability to leap great distances or climb any surface, to great electroception and eagle's sight. Those who know it well possess many varied powers from the Heritage that they employ to traverse the complex.

Tartarus and CHR-L3 itself have adapted to the Heritage in strange ways, seeking to truly test the mastery of these gifts given through blood. While trailblazing the steel and ceramic corridors and bizarre artificial landscapes, one will inevitably happen upon a crossroads. The paths laid before the traveller are varied and some always require unique powers to pass the obstacles laid before them, whether sheer walls, teetering platforms spread distantly above a dark pool of The Waste, or another sinister barrier. The crossroads of Tartarus are thus a parting of ways; a farewell to allies and loved ones and an escape from a pursuer. Each path typically leads to a very distant place, and the ever-shifting nature of Tartarus means that a goodbye in one of these places could be permanent.

About freakin' time!

ПУТЬ МЕДВЕДЯ
(Put' Medvedya)

The Medvedi people are a large, muscular people by nature who favor martial arts that revolve around power.  This group of martial arts styles generally emphasize agility and speed and utilize a variety of weapons favored by the Medvedi – large swords, polearms, staves, and a variety of improvised weapons.

Put' medvedya is not a self-defense style or one intended for artistic purposes, even if it's practice can be terrifyingly beautiful to behold.  It is a way of war – a quick and efficient means to dispose of enemies.  It seeks to utilize the environment and mobility to first remove the opponent's ability to fight back, and then to kill.  While an unarmed form does exist, this is not the primary form employed.  Weapons are more lethal and therefore emphasized.

Attacks are brutal, rarely defensive weapon strikes that attempt to overwhelm and overpower opponents quickly.  When a shield is employed, the shield is used for blocking opponents' attacks, while the weapon is used counterstrike as quickly as possible.  Feints are commonly used to set up powerful finishing moves that cripple limbs or outright kill.

Put' medvedya places special emphasis on fighting with improvised weapons, and to that end trains with a anything from broken bottles, lengths of pipe, and fist loads to hunks of concrete, dismembered limbs, and teacups.  Beyond the standard sword, spear, and club training, many practitioners also learn advanced skills and techniques including fighting with flexible weapons and unarmed combat (which is always avoided in favor of using a weapon).  A special branch of put' medvedya called rabota focuses on agility and mobility on foot – a key survival skill for both getting about and escaping powerful foes.

While put' medvedya generally lacks a body of legend, it enjoys a mystical association with power, brutality, and the enormous, muscular men who practice it.  Practitioners have been known to slice steel walkways, bash through concrete walls, and cleave men from crown to groin, all in a single blow.

ТОПОР БОЕВОЙ
(Topor Boevoi)
<Yet to Come>

БОРЬБА АЛЕБАРДА
(Bor'ba Alebarda)
<Yet to Come>

КОПЬЕ БОРЬБЕ
(Kop'e Bor'be)
<Yet to Come>

ПОСОХ БОРЬБЕ
(Posokh Bor'be)
<Yet to Come>

МЕЧ БОЕВЫХ
(Mech Boevykh)
<Yet to Come>

ДРАКЕ
(Drake)
<Yet to Come>

БОРЬБЕ ЖЕЗЛ
(Bor'ba Zhezel)
<Yet to Come>

РАБОТА
(Rabota)
<Yet to Come>

>.>
Come!

Sorry.  A few projects going at the same time.  I'll continue this, though.  I promise!  In the meantime, I think you should ride Horse a bit.