It was time. With a single nod, hundreds of machines were set into motion.
The ground shook beneath the tread of titanic feet, the footsteps of giants prophesying doom to all who stood before them.
That the death knell of the Empress’ corrupt rule was at hand, and this earthquake would be the herald of her end.
If the camera crew could get an appropriate shot, anyways. The snow and absurd whiteout conditions may have ended, but low-hanging clouds and fog spoil any attempts to get more than a few companies worth of mechs flipping on their lights and running pre battle checks in the early morning.
Well, there would be plenty of time to get propaganda shots after victory.
Perhaps it was better that way. Then the public couldn’t see just how patchwork the formations were. Or what else had signed on to the Patriot cause, however temporary.
No, it would be General Marik, fulfilling his ancestor’s legacy to depose a tyrant once more. At the head of the army regiments who had seen the evil growing at the heart of the empire. Heroes and Knights, one and all. Liberating the capitol.
An inspiring narrative. Any aspiring historians obsessed with the truth of the matter could be sated with whatever spliced combat logs were given, or paid off afterwards.
He raised a hand, waving into the nothing. None of the lights in the white moved any differently. The wave turned into a salute.
That didn’t matter, either. The only one who could see him was Hendricks.
The lights winked out, another form blotting them out. One. Two. Three.
There was nothing metaphorical about the shaking caused by that three-legged terror. It was the spearpoint this assault was relying upon. Not only for the line-breaking firepower and massive armor, but because of the ability to project a wide-spectrum jamming field in order to counter the networked targeting modules loyalist forces had been deploying with.
Where it walked, everything would be cut. A zone of silence. Command would fall all the way from battalion or sector down to lance level. All their commanders could do is send in more isolated forces, and hope for the best. Where the higher average skill level of his hardened veteran pilots would prove decisive.
Pressing home a pre-planned attack is easier than shuffling around defenders in reaction. There had been no massive defense works prepared in the city in the time they had been waiting. The miserable weather kept air power out of contention for the critical days. There would be no swarm of plucky trainee pilots to bolster the numbers of the defenders in the eleventh hour.
Humanity has spread out into a massive sprawling empire throughout the galaxy. The edges of the sprawl remain poorly guarded and sparsely settled after all humanity throughout a thousand stars has always been alone. This like all things will change.
2724 Gazelle system 708 days from Earth
You are Lieutenant Commander Tobias Cromwell, the captain of the aging corvette Forgone Mist. You sit in your chair staring glumly out at the inky black void next to the small mining station that was slowly churning out titanium ore from the barren planet below you. It was your opinion this posting was a waste of perfectly good men and supplies. The outer ring was desolate pirates didn't strike out here and no misguided rebel would want unprocessed titanium ore yet you were stuck here on orders of the sector admiral. The ship's XO taps you on the shoulder and hands you a steaming cup of coffee, swiping it from the man's hand you take a sip, the stale beans used to make the drink giving it a foul aftertaste far less pleasant than you hoped, you huff and lean back in your chair. You grumble at your position stuck on the ass end of human space nearly two years distant from earth on the fastest transport, with supplies that didn't last and ships that were antiquated when your grandfather was a young man. It was a single accusation of cowardice during a pirate raid that saw you bumped down two ranks and shunted off to finish your career aboard a corvette. The corvettes dual torpedo mounts and twin coil gun cannons were nothing compared to the heavy cruiser you once had captained and the battleship you were meant to captain as the crescendo of your career in the navy.
The camera pans across a dimly lit room filled with scattered papers, a torn wrestling poster, and a single, battered championship belt sitting on a desk. A figure in a sharp, if slightly rumpled, suit stands up and adjusts his tie, staring directly into the camera. It’s The Commish.
“Alright, listen up, folks. If you’re here, it means you’re ready for something different. Something wild. Something… Smack Talk Wrestling Saga.
“Yeah, I used to run the show over on Substack, and let me tell you—it was legendary. But legends don’t live forever when the platform pulls the rug out from under you. No matter. The Commish doesn’t quit. And now, I’m here, ready to rebuild the greatest wrestling universe this world has ever seen!”
He slams his hands down on the desk.
“But I can’t do it alone. A league needs wrestlers, rivalries, and a whole lot of chaos. That’s where YOU come in.”
How It Works
This isn’t your average wrestling league. Here’s how the Smack Talk Wrestling Saga will unfold:
1 Weekly Schedule:
Wednesday Nights: Matches at The Hey Barn—home of the wildest, rowdiest crowds you’ll ever see. Saturday Nights: Premium events at The Rusty Pelican, featuring title defenses and special matches. Sunday: Granny’s Supper Recap—a wholesome, chaotic look back at the week. 2 Interactive Gameplay:
Create your wrestler. Submit their name, backstory, strengths, weaknesses, and signature moves. Control your wrestler’s fate by posting promos, calling out rivals, and suggesting match ideas. Watch as your choices shape storylines and bring chaos to the ring. 3 Weekly Prompts and Mysteries:
We’ll toss in curveballs—cryptic messages, Aelorian mysteries, and challenges that only the bold can solve. Meet the Crew
The Commish That’s me. I keep this circus running. You’ll see me setting matches, stirring the pot, and occasionally refereeing when things get really out of hand.
Granny She’s the heart of this league—a little old lady with a big attitude. Don’t let her apron fool you; she’s got a ladle that’ll knock sense into anyone who steps out of line. She also serves pie, but only if you’re on her good side.
PeeWee Our resident high school misfit and conspiracy theorist. He’s in charge of tech and digging into the weird mysteries that seem to follow the league wherever we go. If there’s something strange in the air, PeeWee’s got a theory (and it probably involves Bigfoot).
Open Tryouts: Join the Smack Talk Universe!
Think you’ve got what it takes to step into the ring? The Commish is officially announcing open tryouts!
How to Enter: Reply to this thread with your wrestler’s details:
Name Gimmick (hero, villain, or wildcard) Backstory Signature Move(s) Strengths/Weaknesses The Commish will personally review your submission and roll you into the league. Matches begin this Wednesday at The Hey Barn, so don’t wait!
You find a an ancient map from the old continent your people came from a long time ago, fleeing from an ancient undead plague. The plague seems to have stopped, and so the continent should be rife for conquest!
You assemble a team and traverse the waves!
You have up to 1000 points to prepare your voyage (you can spend less if you want, but not more).
Ships (you need enough ships to carry all your people and stuff, otherwise some of it will be left behind):
Caravel (capacity for 30 people - it is a sailship, can't move without winds) - 50 points Rowship (capactiy for 50 people - it is fast but has no weapons, can only ram) - 100 points Galley (capacity for 200 people - big and slow, but carry several ballista, can sail and row) - 500 points
Unskilled Laborers - these people have no particularly useful skills, but they can still haul goods just fine
Leader
Charismatic - little more than a peasant leader, but the people love you and follow you (100 points) Courtesan - leading through your female wiles, your ease in making allies is unparalled (100 points) General - you're recognized amongst the best military strategists in the world (100 points)
Optional:
Noble - a member from one of the ancient houses, adds legitimacy to your claim (+100 points) Monarch - a direct descendant of royalty, who are fabled to descend from the gods themselves (+300 points) Magician - someone with proven supernatural powers, possibly a half-demon (+500 points)
Resources (each 100 units takes 100 population worth of space; the number listed below is cost in points per unit):
You are a former knight. Your name? Well, that’s something you set out to make for yourself. You’ve been chasing rumors of an ancient artifact of unimaginable power, and now, at the end of your lead, you find yourself standing before a dark, dank cave.
Will you finally be able to crush all your enemies? Will the princess finally notice you? Will your dad finally start talking to you again, since you did that thing at his birthday that one time? or will this be your last quest?!
//i've never used dropbox for filesharing before so please let me know if it works. i have the first thread downloaded and i want a full archive to be available. lmk if there's any issues here (or if you can see my decade old uploads lmao)
Reconstruction Site (Fire Door) summary: You woke up in a room with no memory of your previous self. Your room was filled with countless books and a small number of personal effects. You met Iris, a middle aged woman with a prosthetic arm and eye; your childhood friend. She gave you a letter from your old self, explaining that your memory loss is due to them "wishing to undo past wrongs". You can use magic, you enjoy art, and you employ several people for a goal which Iris will tell you once you meet them all. Whether not you will pursue this goal, though, is up to you. You eat and perform a simple spell and learn about Iris' past as a soldier and assassin. You decide not to smoke with her, taking advantage of your new lease on life, despite your resentment towards your previous self. You examine yourself in a mirror, revealing a short stature with a smooth face and large nose. You hair is various shades of brown, with brown eyes and thick eyebrows. You wear black jeans, a big green coat, and a t shirt with "LIFE IS ART" emblazoned on the front. You find out the old version of you was named "Pluto", although you don't believe Iris on that one. You decide to meet up with Cairo, a former member of a religious order, and make your way to a spaceship which Iris pilots. You explore the ship a bit, checking out the fridge and opening some drinks.
You still have some time left on this trip, but according to Iris, there shouldn't be more than 40 minutes left. You've just had a weird drink from the fridge, and gave Iris her sparkling water, which you didn't enjoy. There's still some ship to explore, some self to explore, and some Iris to explore. What do you do?
>Design (D): Jonathan Hickman. >Alt-Text: An infographic map of Earth labeled “The World” separated into differently colored sections. >Dialogue Samples: Jonathan Hickman, Kurt Busiek, Bill Everett.
<span class="mu-s">1961</span>
The System is Broken.
After decades of war, the world was rebuilt on a new axis. The Great Powers carved the planet between them and the Globe spun on this Great Wheel. But the rise of a new form of power has broken the balance holding up the planet. Atlas has fallen, now is the Age of Marvels. You are the leader of one of the new superpowers of this world. The choices you make will affect the fate of the planet and the cosmos beyond. For one of these factions may become the...
<span class="mu-s">ULTIMATE CIVILIZATION</span>
{Which Faction are we playing as?}
>SHIELD A superscience spy army backed by Western powers and corporate interests. This band of Cold Warriors seeks to install the USA’s vision of peace across the planet, no matter the human cost.
>ZODIAC Get a job, buy on credit, go to war, settle down, do whatever they tell you. This is what those in power want, and this is what the outcast anarchists of ZODIAC fight against. Big business and big armies tear apart the world, with the common people suffering worldwide. But a spirit of revolution has taken the world by storm. This new age of superpowers shows the potential for The Great Wheel that runs the world to be broken in favor of something better—something Free.
>Nation X The Age of the Atom has awakened something in the human form. They are the Mutants, a new form of people with uncanny abilities. They have, like so many other groups this decade, joined together to fight for their civil rights. This young nation seeks liberation. If that comes through peace, war, or something stranger will be for you to decide.
>Atlantis Decades ago Prince Namor began his adventurous crusade against white men. Heroes of honor convinced him to join the Allied Cause. Yet after the war, betrayal left him destitute and Atlantis devastated. With the Wheel Broken a new Age of Atlantis will begin, but will it seek justice, vengeance, or conquest?
Risk Straya is going pretty slow so I'm opening up a parallel game This map was proposed by TED during the summer game and I've been excited to see it played
INSTRUCTIONS: Select a name, color, and location to start playing type "dice+1d6" to roll the dice for your number of attacks or defenses You Will receive a (+1) for every area you completely occupy (Marked by the thick boarders)
"The honour of knighthood came first among the civilised people among the Latins of the Middle Kingdom. The art of sword and lance was birthed in the iron years when the kingship was abroad with the barbarians. The Frankomen of the great kingdom have forgotten them, since - though we remember." - The Chronicle of San-Koryu Abbey, The Writings of St. Go-Apsimar the Bladesman
You drink from a laquerwood cup and hold your chest tight to keep from coughing. The conversation around you has dulled - your fellow gentlemen knelt at the low table have emptied their cups and plates both, and look around muttering as if not one has any further tale to tell - at last a young northerner, fellow with the Emishi look about him, looks to you, and asks if you've any tale for the company - from whence do you come?
>You are of noble blood, for certain, but from where did your family come? >The northern marches of Kyumar, the great-isle, an aristocrat settled among the knights there when the shoguns first marched north. >The Isle of Pearls, in the distant south - you are of foreign stock, merchants of tea and lacquer with the burghers of Baek and Sildon >The Curia itself! You are descended from a distant offshoot of the consecrated line of Christ's daughter, from whence the Saint-emperors spring. Certainly you are poorer now.
In the capital, the Holy City, in the grandest square of the heart of the city where statues of long dead emperors stood watch over the streets that converged here, the people of the nation flocked to see what many had whispered would be their hero. To listen, perhaps not even, to merely behold. People were still struggling to squeeze their way forth, though the man of the hour had already risen atop a grand platform.
The man who stood at the podium was no noble, no representative of the throne, but the people of the city gathered as though they had been summoned nevertheless. A swarthy, dark Sea Vitelian, so broad and tall he looked like a triumphal monument rather than a normal man, stood tall before leaning over the lectern, a microphone able to carry his voice to all, where in old times the crowd might lose the words over the vastness of the throng.
This man was Giovanno Leone, a veteran of the war against the Grossreich, a famous warrior who had won hundreds of battles fighting alongside the elite Arditi in the frontline without suffering any disfiguring wounds, a man of uniform and no shortage of medals. Instead of wearing such, however, he wore the colors and cloth of a common city fellow and no constables were close to protect him, rather, kept out at the edges where they nervously waited for a riot from this provocateur. More than a few in the high places of power had clamored for his arrest, but on top of being so physically imposing that few policemen dared to confront him with the threat of capture, others had shielded his ascent, seeing a rising star that they might use the light of for their own ambitions.
Leone was aware of both of them, and intended to satisfy neither. As far as he was concerned, the Kingdom of Vitelia would not endure beyond its final monarch, and what was born afterwards would finally surpass the First Empire, as it had yearned to do since that glorious time had come to a calamitous end.
The audience was vast enough that silence was impossible to call for. That didn’t bother Leone. He knew that, once he spoke, all would quiet themselves. No one else had come here to be heard, not in these times. <span class="mu-i">I am here, friends. Bonetto. Cesare. Too many others to mention. I am here because of you.</span>
