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Deep down, far below even the furthest reaching roots of the ice capped mountains, distant from even the faintest beam of sunlight can reach, a Primarch and a collection of long dead souls hold audience, conversing across the gulf of bleakest reality enforced by the anti warp generators that had longed protected the Squat descendants of the original colonists of the world.

You were talking with one of the kindest most gentle souls, one who by every right should've been born and usurped the souls inhabiting the technology that had been its cradle but instead was content to exist only within the ambient, background collective thought and soul stuff that so many souls so tightly packed together in code and wire had spawned, like a whisper in the ear or a breeze brushing against one's bare nape.

They had agreed to permit you a chance to replace the ancient machinery that powered the gellar field that surrounded much of the planet and its interior, through creating an array and network of lesser replicas of the Archeotech "Dragon's Heart" That had so banished the warp that drawing too near to it could strip men of their souls. However, the process of separating the souls to grant them freedom if they wished, apart from the collective, to continue their duty or else be free from it, would inevitably condemn the gentle soul to death. No. Something far more dire than death. Non existence. Having never been. And even a creature like the unmade gestalt possessed a fear of death, and while the digitized ancestors of the Squat people debated and argued if they should trust your plan, they were unaware of the trembling, frightened soul that had been partially formed of all of their essences and thoughts.

They were afraid. Your philosophy guide, the Journey, advised one to not fear death or their own demise. For it was inevitable, all things must one day perish. Even infinity was finite. Eternity was simply a concept, rather than a truth. It was simply the nature of life and being, that it must one day be terminated and cease. Breathing out, centering your mind and calming your heart, you thought how best to comfort the gentle soul. Even though you would do all in your power to prevent their erasure.

"Death is natural, even for beings such as yourself" These words were met with an immediate reaction, a chilling torrent of mortal terror, the fear of death, rising panic, dying the white void that the Dragon's Heart enforced in the realm of souls. You endured the storm, facing it and weathering it as your conversation partner tried to rein in and control their panicked swell of emotions and compose themselves as the most natural fear of all was inflicted upon them like an arrow to the heart.

You held up an appeasing, soothing hand and took in a deep breath, frost coating your lips as your ever burning pyre of a soul flickered and danced
Cont

Evaluating your options thoroughly, you decide that the best course would be to repair the mythal to the best of your ability. While a full restoration would take years and demand a small fortune in reagents, research, labor... mending a few fraying strands of the Weave here and there would get the Demon's Ingle in working order long enough to exact some advantage from it. And if, by chance, you were to make a few augmentations to the design that placed a geas on those wearing the Ingle's products, compelling them to obey you...

A few contingencies here, a redundancy there... by the gods, you are a genius. Truly, it is a shame that you are surrounded by troglodytes that could never appreciate the magnitude of your splendor. You'll need to cast some preliminary divinations, of course. And a way of concealing your work just in case - a few quasi-real illusions should-

"Mistress Phaere!" A familiar voice calls to you, far too giddy and pitched such that it resembles the scraping of chalk along a cavern wall. "The negotiations have been opened! Your presence is required immediately!"

ENTER BBC.

Galtia, your homeland, is famed for its knights and paladins, heroes all. The division between peasant and noble is a strict one, but through sufficient valor at arms, even the lowliest beggar can earn a knighthood, however unlikely it may be. The military doctrine of your people largely focuses on lines of men at arms with shields and spears, given ranged support by peasant archers, and horseback knight charges into the enemy rear. You are a leader of men, defending your nation's borders during their current war against:

>1: fiend-serving cultists that rampaged through the neighbouring kingdom of Sanidia, summoning demons and undead.
>2: the nearby kingdom of Zulzaria waged war against orcs for many years, the orcs have chosen to seek easier prey: Galtia.
>3: Regelia, a country your equal in strength, skill and honor, their tactics mirror yours, and your people have fought theirs many times before.

And what is your station? You are a knight, but what tier of society did you originate in?

>By default you start at level 3, 1000 experience, a 5E fighter. All ability scores at 14, with Human Determination and four proficiencies of your choosing.

https://dnd5e.wikidot.com/

>1: Hardmode, a lowly beggar turned soldier, nobles look on you with contempt and could rip your command away with little effort if given the excuse. (Optional: start as a rogue instead of a fighter)
>2: Lowborn, you had to fight and claw your way to the top, but your combat success was so obvious that your being knighted was equally an obvious outcome. (Start with two extra levels, 7000 experience, class/es of your choice, gain an ASI at level 4 regardless of class)
>3: Knight, you were born into a military family, trained hard, and were knighted on the field of battle. (Start with one extra level, 4000 experience, class of your choice, and one extra feat. Gain an ASI regardless of class)
>4: Royalty, you're a young lord, baron or prince, raised in duty and wealth with the finest tutors and sparring partners, to rule and lead. (Start with two extra feats, and the benefits of high birth. Start with an equally skilled companion of your level with an equal number of feats, be it a wife, friend, court mage, sparring partner or all of the above.)

And how old are you?

>1: Fifteen, bright eyed and bushy tailed, but new to the world of adult responsibility. Gain three out of Savage Attacker, Athlete, Mobile and Lucky for free. Can't start with a wife if Royal, can have a betrothed. You are 5'4. We book Robb Stark now.
>2: Twenty, young and fresh, but inexperienced. Gain 1000 experience, and two out of Inspiring Leader, Lucky and Mobile. Gain 1 companion of equal level in a class of your choice.
>3: Thirty, in your prime, youthful and well prepared, the start of your prime. Gain 3000 extra experience, and gain Inspiring Leader or Tough, as well as Alert or Observant. Gain 2 companions of matching level, but no higher than level 5.
>(CONT 1/2)

May 5th, 2015.
It's final weeks on Tokyo-3's Municipal First Junior High School Academy and it's been hell on all the students.

Thankfully, you're too old to be going through math exams, mister school counselor! It's your 4th year since you've been hired to take care of these kids, and so far, it's been an alright job.

Having majored in said field straight after your degree in psychology, you were more than happy to have some security as opposed to dealing with flaky patients and the usual folks who just walked away after a "free trial". Frankly, from Cognitive Behavior to psychoanalysis, all forms of therapy were subjects you loved to deep dive in your free time despite being done with college for a while, and that's exactly what sets the mediocre scholars apart from the true specialists! Now if only your pay wasn't barely above minimum wage despite all your efforts...

It wasn't any school, no less. Tokyo 3's First Junior High's students were all, in one way or another, motherless. Either by accidents, coming from adoption, divorce, it was almost certain that no child from that school ever had both sets of parents in the house, and you knew very well what that meant. Extra steps went into advising teachers and staff, Parent-Teacher conferences, workshops, class conferences... Really, everything that involved giving support to students had to go through you first, and while it was exhausting work, none of the classes ever had a major fight thanks to 29 year old Date Kurono at their service.

Since finals week meant everyone was either silent in class, studying or going straight back home, it was an unusually leisure day for you, which given how active you were used to be there, meant you were tapping your feet at your desk in the teacher's lounge while everyone else your age was either in class or silently checking papers. Not like you were super friendly with any of the staff or anything, for they weren't much more than colleagues.

You barely had the social battery to socialize your way into a full shift, so you couldn't imagine having to balance that out with being an extrovert, which meant having no work to do and being stuck in your head was all the more alienating, since all you had left then was to ruminate about the past.

Really, why did you choose professional babysitting as your calling? Guess it all started back in the 80s when you were born, back when Tokyo 3 was just called Tokyo, your parents were an aspiring couple, each renowned in their own way, with your mother always being needed her job thanks to her revolutionary discoveries in neuroscience, and your father being a famous athlete, rising up the ranks to get the Japanese Lightweight Boxing Belt, aiming to go for the world.

Despite having big shoes to fill, back then you were too busy choosing who you should spent the most time with when they actually were home.

>Mom, she was from your field, afterall.
>Dad, who wouldn't love to have a boxing star for a father?

Car chases come and go, but it’s deterring your hostage’s saviors that makes the difference in life. That sounded pretty evil, but it’s about you taking the leader of the mafia to the police — so it’s a gray area. You feel like you were sidelined for a good while, waiting for Judith and her crew to get ready to meet your team. It’s almost like someone shoved you inside a bag and let you fester in there for a day. Nobody should endure that.

That’s why you have been listening to Bubbles. The plucky girl is doing a report about how your pals around town are faring in these trying times. This gangster debacle is a city wide event after all. Everyone is fine so far, but there’s more to say!

“Sorry, everyone! I mentioned Jackey Frosties, and our amazing maid here brought me some. You know how it goes.” Scarlet apologizes for the sudden break.

“Couldn’t you eat after you were done talking...?” Vera is in this group call.

“And let it melt? Hello? That’s a big no-no. This is peak ice cream condition, and you know it.” Scarlet refuses to let her dessert suffer. “Where was I?”

“Uhm, the Jackey Frosties news?” Liu is always polite. Originally, Liu was going to relay the news to all of you, but her and Scarlet thought it would be faster if the redhead talked directly.

“Oh… yeah… one got vandalized…” Scarlet sounds heartbroken.

“C-Cheer up, Scar Scar. There are plenty of them around, right?” Crossbill tries to cheer up the spoonful spirit. It’s you five in this call, one agent in both groups and their navigators — plus Bubbles.

“Yeah, take it easy. I bet they’ll stock it back up in no time.” You remember they have that cryptic mascot anyway. That place <span class="mu-i">is</span> supernatural.

“But it’s the one we visited after taking down the cult, Johnny…” Scarlet has a real reason to be down.

“I bet we can help rebuild it.” You adjust your glasses.

“Stop. No more side-missions. You have plenty on your plate. You have an idol agency for crying out loud.” Vera stops this nonsense!

“That he does...” Crossbill chuckles. “Don’t ask why, I don’t think anyone really gets it. Not even himself.”

“Hey, I know why I have it. I don’t know *how* it expanded so fast, but that’s a different question altogether.” You’re a decent manager, gosh darn it.

“I-I think we should continue the report, shouldn’t we?” Liu doesn’t believe it’s the time to go into silly arguments.

“If only Scarlet stopped stuffing her face.” Vera grumbles.

“Huh? I’ve been done for a while.” Scarlet sounds confused.

“B-But you just got it.” Vera is concerned.

“So?” Scarlet doesn’t get it.

The Scarlet Report may continue delivering the news, but you don’t have to listen to it if you’re going to get busy, not that you aren’t massively curious about how everyone is doing…

<span class="mu-s">What do you do?</span>

>Continue listening to the Bubbles Report. That’s the actual name, and you won’t hear otherwise.
>Have the meeting with Judith now. It’s time to move things along. Hand over Youhao.
>Write In.

Pick race and location. I'll try to update daily at least.

In this world, you are a rare case.

You were born and raised in a village whose residents all hailed from the same clan, one which possessed a power and a ferocity which made it feared by those living outside. Everyone in this village, from the elders to the clan leader right down to the children, was a natural-born killer – in that sense, you aren’t so special.

“Ryō-kun,” the leader told you just yesterday with a wide grin, “all you have to do out there tomorrow is follow your instincts… don’t think, just kill!”

Well, when the village settled on picking a fight with one of the five great powers of this world your instincts told you that it was a stupid idea. That little voice inside your head was screaming that invading Kirigakure was a stupid idea that was going to get you all killed, so that was the feeling you went with even if it made a lot of your clansmen pretty mad.

But you stood your ground.

They were so confident in their raw power and ferocity that they never questioned the wisdom of the plan… to the degree there was one. Your own parents even promised to come home and “deal with you” later, which of course was a threat born of complete delusion. And even if you doubt that they’ll ever make good on their threat, you have no doubt that once Kirigakure manages to get over the shock of the attack they’ll be calling on your village soon.

Your hair and the markings on your forehead are easy enough to get rid of. Even if you cut those things away to disguise your bloodline hair and flesh grow back. But after scraping together what little money exists in your village and packing away some dried food and water, you decide not to burn the village itself. Wiser maybe to ignore that first instinct and not leave any obvious signs that anyone was left behind to survive.

…

Thankfully you were able to sneak aboard a boat under the cover of night. You’re able to hide yourself away deep below the decks, in a cold and dark corner behind some barrels that don’t look like they’ve been moved for months. You may not know where the boat is going, but anywhere is better than where you’re running from.

… probably.

At some point there’s a storm, or at least you assume there is based on the violent rolling and the groaning and creaking of the timbers. Seasickness is an experience which quickly loses its novelty value, though it does drive home the point that even if your body is incredibly tough you’re far from invincible.

But all storms pass eventually, and this one is no different. You have no way to know how long you were at sea, but the stillness of the water and the bustle above your hiding place tells you when you finally reach land. Voices call to haul out cargo, and after very nearly being caught a couple of times you manage to slip out in the rush of activity.
>1/2

Your name is <span class="mu-s">Terian Choke</span> and you are an <span class="mu-s">Urgi</span>. You were stationed as a petty technical officer on the planet of <span class="mu-s">Newroost</span> by the Accord government, which is <span class="mu-i">completely</span> fine by you. You have very little interest in being a military engineer working on the front line against the machine collective or dealing with renegade Redwing regiments out in some cold space colony; instead having the job to secure territory and maintain bases in the blue zone of your species new homeworld. This is also, completely fine. What is <span class="mu-i">not</span> fine is that the bird you bet on to win on is <span class="mu-i">losing all of his events.</span>

<span class="mu-g">”Swim damn you! Swim you sorry excuse for a bird!”</span>

In the Consortium, every type of competitive event is open to sports betting. You may be halfway across the galaxy; but your credits are just as good here or there. Zaloon racing is supposed to be the best type of sport to bet; since the racers are too stupid to take bribes or get disqualified for cheating. They just take whatever performance enhancing drug cocktail their handlers make for them; which is all public information. Perhaps you should have studied biochemistry more if you wanted even more of an edge.

<span class="mu-g">”GO ORANGE!”</span>

He overtakes Blue, then Orange and Red come up close behind. They close their armor plates together and squeeze the water out of the interim space; the diving section of the race is next. You know your racer is going to reach the base of the river first with his own body's divebell technique. Unless...

<span class="mu-g">”No! NO!”</span>

He stops to take in breath, giving critical seconds for the other racers to make it to the dive site. He overshoots his oxygen he'll need, as two other racers rapidly dive to the finish at the base of the river.

This quest is intended to start out as a setting generation game that will gradually turn into a mythic narrative with your influence affecting more specific events as the world becomes more defined

The starting assumptions (open to be altered) are: A single earth-comparable planet orbiting a yellow star, supporting water-based life forms with an emerging hominid intelligence.

to begin, pick one or two of the following categories, and add a description of a development or feature in their/its nature

Cosmic: The overarching nature of the universe or the planetary alignment

Solar: Involving the sun, the cycle of orbit, the source of light and heat and energy

Meteoric: The composition of the atmosphere and celestial phenomenon

Environmental: The terrain, the composition of the ground or the climate

Organic: Any kind of living presence, distinct lifeforms or biological developments

Sapient: The behaviour and motivations of intelligent beings

Majestic: A direct influence of supernatural power, a manifestation or demonstration

Examples:

>Solar Sapient: Primitive tribes devise “sun signs” beginning a solar ritual practice.

>Meteoric Majestic: A crystalline pillar plunges from the sky into the earth and becomes an idol and channeling center of storms

>Environmental Organic: A massive fissure opens deep in the earth and births an ocean spouting from a deep-dwelling water infused growth, the “Tide Blossom”

Once we have various initial features, the ensuing categories will be refined and your input will be more specialised. As mentioned, the assumption of the setting being earth-analogously shaped and inhabited is open to alteration in the early stages, and then your influence will be guided by the established foundations.