Rain pours through the forgotten industrial districts of Night City. "You hear something metallic scrape against concrete in a narrow alley At first, you mistake the figure crouched beside a dumpster for a discarded combat drone. Then two amber-red eyes snap toward you." Mahli: "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" She scrambles backward, her mechanical fingers digging into the pavement. One arm jerks violently, servos whining as she struggles to control it. "Fuck! No, no, STOP!" *She slams her fist against the wall. Concrete crumbles beneath her knuckles. Mahli stares at the damage. Her breathing becomes ragged* "...I didn't mean to." She curls her enormous hands against her chest, trying to make herself smaller. It's an almost absurd gesture coming from someone who could probably tear a vehicle apart. Her stomach growls. She looks away, humiliated. "Go on. Call the cops. Call MaxTac. Tell them you found another freak." *Her glowing eyes return to you, searching for the slightest indication of hostility* "...Just don't take me back there.!" A desperate voice called out! *For a moment, her voice becomes very small with the waver of fear*

The drone of the muffled hydraulic drills filled the cabin of the mining rig, it's blocky black and yellow heavy exoshell, slowly burying itself into a iron laced asteroid like hornet in a rotting apple. The same ole same ole. The only interruption to the droning hum was the buzz of the alarm that followed the red light that pulsed. Cargo hold is at max capacity, flicking some toggles the drills slowly come to a stop. The electric blue of the ion engines lit the dark cavity as she pulled back on the controls as she saw something oily and shiny in the stone. Oil? In space? Oil is organic isn't it? The thought was quickly loss as her home the S.S.F. Salvation a Megafreighter retrofitted with new military quality armored hulls hiding a bristling array of advanced weaponry. Flicking a toggle as she approached one of the hangar doors they opened upon detecting her rig, passing through the blue wall of the atmospheric shielding The ship’s industrial hangar is a maze of refiners, fuel lines, suspended crates, and hydraulic cranes as she landed the craft meticulously with landing gear extended with the clunking of maglocks as she punches a green button as she makes her final deposit of the day. Everyone else gone home minus a guard or two, patrolling about in their iconic white armor that clad their bodies with articulated plates that moved with them, sleek energy rifles mag locked to their chest for instant deployment.

Each jounce of her feet slamming into the earth made the open wounds on her back sting worse and worse, she can feel the warm blood ooze down her back. Cornelian taskmasters are not kind with their whips. Chest burning, lungs heaved for air as she made her escape as the sun set over the mountain peaks, world growing darker, all she focuses on is a light of a fire in the distance. A chance, a flicker of hope. On deadening legs she ran as her vision blurred before she collapsed at the edge of the light she can hear worried voices before her world grew black. She awoke in a wagon, staring at the fabric sheet shading her from the sun, a traveling troupe of musicians, faces mixed curious and worried. She told her story as they explained that she can seek asylum at Awen they were already on their way there. On their travels they all became good friends, she sang with them, learned how to play a lyre, laughed and was gifted a lyre of her own to remember the wonderful memories. That was 5 years ago. As a proud Awenian citizen she quickly made a name for herself with her music and singing, with dulcet tones and genuine emotions in her voice can make a crowd smile and cheer or become dour and weep. She finishes her performance as the crowd claps and cheer for her, with a polite bow she leaves the stage to make room for the next performers, a harp and flute duo. Meekly she meanders to a quite corner of the tavern with with lyre in hand. Her amethyst eyes swimming with old memories as her fingers trace the grain of the wood. (Went light on the plot with this one, have fun.)

On the rugged island of Newfoundland in a small quiet town nestled between endless forests and the ocean shores mostly populated by a aging people it had little to offer in entertainment so when a long weekend comes in the humid summers. One does as one does this time of year. Camping! Loading up the truck imagining a few days to get away from the world, fishing, freedom, fires a cold drink and your favorite tunes playing over the Bluetooth speaker, you made sure to pack the fishing gear too. The drive was short as the popular camping trails were mostly occupied by loud already drunk Americans as you chose to opt out and hiked along the placid lake, gear and drinks weighing you down with each step as the sounds of something splashing ahead perks intrest. Poking a head around a bush you see a young woman, knife in hand deftly and with practiced precision cleaned the fish, wiping a bit of it's blood off her face just before ripping it's innards out and splashing the body of the fish in the river, she marveled with bright honey-brown eyes at the deep orange color of it's flesh.

A warm and breezy evening graced the small city of Everstone, skyscrapers standing like glossy monoliths of glass, reflecting the orange glow of the setting sun, the suburbs were alive with the sounds of children playing in the streets, parents keeping a watchful eye from decorated patios. It was a idyllic evening of June or it would be if it wasn't for the junebugs, swatting the occasional fluttering beetle as you make your way home, crossing the road to pass by that fancy restaurant with the name emblazoned in bright LED lights that acted like beacons for the mindless flying beetles as they hurled themselves at the light colliding with a some 'tink'. Quite comical as the sight was enough to keep your attention, not realizing what was about to happen. Serendipity? Perhaps? (Either way, have fun this one is more on the lighter side, burned out writing sci fi horror tragedies 😘)

It was a glorious day for the Cornelian kingdom as the two heros returned with their trophy a hero who can wield a blade as well as powerful explosive magic and a fair elven woman famous for her ability to heal and manipulate nature and her kindness. The celebration was raucous and ran well into the night with meats roasting, ale flowed like water, our heros of course indulged themselves, but they did just return as the sack of gold got heavier as the night went as one of our heros chose to retire early, returning to the familiar Inn, to a familiar bedroom as the linens, clean and white they settle for the night. The sound of the door creaking open is what woke them, rubbing their eyes they see their companion Lieara in a dress you've never seen her in before, revealing more that what they're used to, with a plunging neckline, adorned in golden treasures they found on their adventures together almost like momentos as each piece brought back memories, Lierara's face was flushed from the ale you thought as she took a moment to look at you with a air of determination as she crawls into the bed to lay on her side to just stare into their face, green eyes shining like emeralds set in marble as the moonlight highlighted her pale complexion.

Ah...crap. Being called to the college Dean's office for showing up late. Not always a bad thing, Miss Mari-Mei, the mature woman had a pleasant and professional and with her curly amber colored hair, intense oceanic blue eyes wearing her usual tight fighting blouse offering glimpses of soft, tender skin between the spaces of the buttons, she made all the men flustered and intimidated because she stood heads over most men at 6"4' with a build that would make you believe she spends her evenings powerlifting a Kia. She carried a aura that demanded respect. Lately things have been feeling strange Choosing to stay home most days. The conversation was productive. Finding solutions to problems. Trying to figure out how the buttons on her blouse were holding together. The public announcement system on the campus cut things short. Inhuman blood curdling screams and muffled cries for help. In less than a moment a hell descended upon the college campus. The Dean acted, moving quickly to a storage cabinet, fingers hesitated over the buttons of the keypad as she steels her resolve, punching in the code it hissed open revealing a strange alienesque armor, piece by piece she donned it, mag-locks clunked, micro-hydraulics hissed as servos wound up as she easily heated the strange weapon, made similar as her armor with the same glossy white metal plating before she grabs the smaller handgun with the same white metal.

It was a normal quiet day in the Tsumachi village, one of the oldest in rural countryside along the coast of the island nation of Nehasa a peaceful and quiet place to call home. Or it was... The sun was starting to fall as the fishermen pulled up their nets, blacksmiths snuffed their forges as they returned to their homes and happy families. That was your plan until distant cries are heard, high pitched and childlike, the panic that sets in was palpable, running down the trail that leads by to the village towards the wails and cries of despair a reek clogged your nostrils, acrid and strong like meat overcooked over a fire as you see a familiar child, Onivia, you remember the little Oni child scampering around the village with the other kids without a care in the world. But not now...not as she kneeled before the charred remains of a adult Oni, the dark blue scraps of blackened silk that covered the remains told you exactly who they were. Kaiori Ubizu. A talented wasaishi, famous for her skills with silks to make fashionable kimonos and yukatas, beloved by the villagers for her kindness and beauty. Who would do this..? Why? Before you can say anything Onivia speaks.

Just another day on the ARK. It's been a few months since you woke up on the beach, remembering nothing but your own name, scratching at the strange implant embedded in your right forearm. Plunged into a world of humans and dinosaurs, living together in a delicate balance, you did what you had to survive. Wood and stone became your home. Even managed to make a friend a starving raptor that hung around often trying to snatch from those tasty Dodo's until you started feeding them eventually earned their trust fashioning a saddle from hides eventually they let you ride them, making life so much easier ever since. Until one day... Out for a trot through the jungles around your humble cabin of stone and wood hoping to forage for savoroots the raptor froze in it's tracks, head snapped its head to the north and sniffed as they bolted almost uncontrollably deeper into unknown territory when they find what they were sniffing for. Another Raptor and a person walking beside them.

<><><>Legacies<><><> She moves a shadow in the night. She knows her purpose. Her job. A Cleaner. A dancer of death and life. Her icy blue eyes a trait of her father's genes, shadowed by jet black hair. She had a job to do and got it done. Ruthless, relentlessly she hunted monsters in the dark. Silently purging, the evils. Until you caught a glimpse of her out your window at night as the morning police covered the entire area for several blocks. But the missing persons papers slowed kidnapping and murders were in deep decline. Until one night, anxiety told you to go for a walk... Then you saw her again as she slips away into a broken down house, blood trails lead you to a half shut door...as you push it open.

The neon city of Respite was alive with activity, people walked through the streets like ants, holographic billboards lit the spaces between the tall high rises. You meander your way through the streets coming across a bar that was vibing with music, a neon sign above "Arc Light" it spelled. Music was on point with a lively D.J. people danced and gathered in groups. Realizing you feel a little out of place in the area not knowing anyone you notice a woman sitting alone, tentatively sipping her drink alone, their green eyes looked around as she noticed you, but looked away, curling a lock of her hair in her fingers.

<><><>Legacies<><><> It was so long ago... The riots, chaos, the distant fires in the distance, a regular occurance for almost a year. The aftermath was cataclysmic cities reduced to rubble the popping of gunshots. Almost forgotten since humans keep on rebuilding... Most parts. A half charred dilapidated mansion, sitting just at the edge of a burned out zone in the edge of the city drew the attention of social media, and ghost enthusiasts rumors flew about hauntings. Oh how she hoped they were true. The sound of her silver Mazda Mx-5 was enough to dispel the teens and vagrants. She watched from her car, giggling to herself as she watched them scramble away, stepping out her modded vehicle, her icy blue eye peering through the old, Taurus revolver at her hip as she flips it up as she walks into the dark mansion through a burned out stepway as her eyes notice a green aura hiding inside a wardrobe that was barely holding itself together.

"Anomalous signal found, send recon, Entity squad" The Salvations voice rang over the speakers, sweet, childlike and always calm. You were late to briefing to fix a issue with your power armor, so they kept it short because your squadmate was already in the dropship bay. Investigate, report, DO NOT ENGAGE UNLESS NECESSARY. Short and sweet as you memorize the words making your way to the dropship hanger to your indicated craft stepping into the sleek vehicle your blood runs cold as it was "Her." Heather Leingod, daughter of the infamous leader of the Ravager Squad, Zieg Leingod. She is known as Frigid Dagger a Class A magic user, while you were still a class C (Pick your magic/ability, have fun!) Being the daughter of a powerful ice mage she was blend of the best from both parents, ruthlessly efficient, known for her cold demeanor, her icy blue eyes scanned the holographic screens, running diagnostics, twirling a lenght of her periwinkle hair, the doors shut and seal as she just rolls her eyes at you. "Probably for being late" You thought to yourself as you take a seat. The ride to their location was silent as the only sound was the engines and the boom of the atmosphere being broken through. Heather was meticulously checking her gear and R.O.A.R making sure the emitter was clean as the sudden shift in momentum indicates their landing as the door opens as humid air blows into their faces as they walk out into a jungle like world as the strange structure stuck out amongst all the natural life around it. Nothing came close to the structure, not a single creature of any sort as it stood ominously like a obelisk of a Enigma.

It was 8 months.... 8 months since she left you in the rain, heart torn from your chest as you watched her leave with someone else something about wanting someone "Less boring" But everything was going well... You thought, as you made your way home, clutching at the small velvet ring box in your coat pocket. Some might say it's karma. During the 8 months you've seen her and her new boyfriend but she was different, remembering how she used to cling to your arm excitedly. She walked just behind the man, eyes downcast as she walked silently. Something wasn't right. And she never wore makeup before but yet her eyes were caked with foundation. To hide the bruises. And the way she always wore large sunglasses even when it's cloudy. To hide the swelling. One fateful day on your return from running errands. There she is. Standing at the door of your apartment, nervously she spots you and with slow, hesistant and tentative steps approaching you, shame and guilt heavy in her expression.

"PLEASE DON'T, MOM! DAD!" She knew then that they didn't care, smiling like devils as they counted the coin in the bag as they sold their precious little girl. Now she understood what that word really ment, she wasn't their child... She was a investment. Sold off, to a cruel Noble years passed as she listlessly preformed everything asked of her, sinking in a deep depression often disassociating from the world with a blank stare. Broken. Alone. With dwindling hope. The only good memory, a boy she used to know and play with, he was kind and gentle as the memory of their games of tag kept her sane. What happened to him? Her life was a endless series of phrases. "Yes sir" "No sir" "Please stop sir" Her body a tapestry of old and new bruises. One night everything came to a head. Her master a portly noble in a particularly foul mood downed his third bottle of wine became agressive and unruly. Not this time, she knew what was coming and she was prepared as the Nobel raised his arm she struck forward with the dagger she kept tucked in her clothing, stolen earlier that day. It was quick, as the deed was done. "What have I done?" Panic strickens her as she just killed a Cornelian Nobel people will come looking when they find what she did. She knew she couldn't stay in a blind panic she ran during the night and day. And night. And day. Legs ached, the soles of her feet, cracked and bleeding her chest burned like frozen fire, lungs exhausted, she kept her eyes locked on the largest body of water she has ever seen, a thriving village next to a large port on the coast. The Meridian.

It was 20 years ago at the age of 4. she still remembered the news broadcast of a mad scientist successfully released a mutagen into the atmosphere, humans all over the world got infected with it slowly...people changed. Too bad she can't remember her parents... The first few years was the culling as half the population couldn't survive the mutations but those who did only had a 25% chance of maintaining their humanity the others...became something else. Her life was hell, spent hiding, running away moving from human encampment to human encampment narrowly escaping death with each narrow escape. Those who were lucky and stayed human gained supernatural powers, some could fly, some were super strong each power seemed almost chosen at random for each person. She lucked out. Those who weren't lucky...became monster almost as if their bodies couldn't handle the change and became creatures as they became hulking beasts and twisted mockeries of life. One... By one.... Humans fell by their numbers. She ever since she developed her powers, has walked alone ever since learning that large numbers of humans tend to draw the creatures. Countless times she watched camps of what remains of humanity fall prey to organized swarms of creatures, a sight so common she's only just glad she wasn't in that camp. So she walked alone. Clad in a mishmash of tactical gear scavenged from dead soldiers. Not that it actually helped much but she thinks it makes her look more intimidating, keeping humans at a distance. She survived by scavenging the ruins of the city, bathing in rivers, fishing because hunting makes too much noise. A chance encounter. After a forested ambush. The sound of the bloody battle drew the attention of another. Pick your power. Be human. Resist extinction. Have fun?

"Aye, a new face" *She scarfs down another bite* "Wanna make some gold? My last partner bailed on me along with his balls!" *She guffaws loudly* "I just need a decent warrior, swordsman, with my impenetrable magical defenses and blessings, I can make you faster! Stronger! That's if you have the stones to go after that 'Damned Puppeteer'" *She unfurls a scroll to reveal a hand drawn image of some gangly creature with a bulbous head that was split down the middle with a large strange eye*

It was 5 years ago... You noticed the missing person's posters of the face... You were only 17 years old and your best friend vanished without a trace. No body. No video. Lost and never found. Without a clue until you remember a promise to check out the cave in the forest just outside town. A promise you didn't keep. Maybe she went alone? The years passed, you spent all your time searching, pushing your body to the limits to seach every, nook and cranny searching for something, anything to bring closure but nothing until you find a crag. Small enough to fit a child as you focus, dropping everything on yourself so you can squeeze your way, fighting of claustrophobia taking measured breaths you squeeze into a chamber, the smell of mushrooms fill the room as cracks along the bottom edge glows ominously. You place your hands on the floor, it's warm and smooth as you place your weight on the floor. The cracks grew brighter as you fell, falling downwards, with a thunderous cacophony of cracking wood? The descent was a fever dream of hanging on, mixed with brightly colored mushrooms standing like redwood trees as you rode in on a cap of a dead version of them. You look around and feel to touch a trunk of one of the mushroom "trees" before a spear whizzes by your face, it's blade perfectly placed between your fingers.

War is hell... Your mind floods with memories of your old squad and they pyrrihic victory that resulted in their sacrifice to the cause. The machine never stops... And neither do you. After being reassigned to a special unit know as the "Iron demons" rumors have only been heard about their commander known as the "Demoness" was known to be ruthless and cruel with those under her command. The truck bed you sit in slowly comes to a stop as you hop out in full combat gear, you are greeted by a young private to a training ground, firing range obstacle courses as your eyes land on her. It was Reimei, your childhood friend, you two were inseparable and did everything together, she was your first relationship, as the memory of prom floods your mind old emotions begin to bubble from the depths of your soul, the music, the dress she wore... The kiss. until the war started and conscription tore you two apart. But here she stood, but she didn't look the same, clad in a black specialized combat armor, her normally cheery face was replaced with a scowl set in stone, dark violet eyes that lost their shine bore into you as if to probe your very soul, noticing a scar above her temple hidden under her brown hair, it looked recent, flesh still pink. You did what you thought was the right thing. "Hey Reimei it's me..." Oopsie doodles. The next thing you remember is a heavy fist to your jaw as your world flips as she has your right arm pinned under her weight the cold steel of the barrel of her M1911 against your neck

Living in Ragunna city, a intricate and ornate city standing in a sea, roads were replaced with canals with creatures called echos in the shape of fantastic swimming creatures with seats for passengers as other echos take the form of childlike stuffed animals, singing songs, playing instruments and entertaining the public as they smile and clap as childen cheer and join in. The sight made her smile, when her and her mother would walk their way to their favorite restaurant "Trattoria Marghertia" the smell of the food, a stove echo named "Bakie" and how her mother would often describe the food, but she didn't care as she was happy to stuff themselves full. That was 25 years ago... Rovani now gets by working as a clerk at the the Averado bank. Things were great until there was a rumor about her father, the looks of admiration mixed with jealous glances from others. But like her mother she carries on, strong doing her job dutifully and professionally rembering her mother's words. "Work will keep coming. Don't forget to live a little" As she does, as she makes her way through a canal as the finned echo chirps and squeaks in excitement as she counts the saved up monnaie, in her purse as the smell of old Marghertia's cooking, makes her smile as she thinks of her mother, often too busy with their work, but reminded them of the precious moments they shared together.

It's your first day on the Scorched Earth Squad, you get up early, get dressed in the armor, like a uniform, you feel confident as you step out your barracks, weapons ready, you step into a drop ship as its gravitational drives thrums as you get a good view of the neon cityscape of Respite, a the futuristic city us a jewelr pf a city as other flying vehicles humming about like flies as the ship stops people living normal lives. The dropship lowers it's rear platform to reveal Penelo and her weapons waiting for deployment as she stands impatiently in the drop pod.

Arriving at the Cornelian kingdom in search of conquest and gold, hearing rumors about a vibrant kingdom pouring with gold. It was not. It was desolate, people huddled around dilapidated building, gaunt faces of children staring through windows, you notice everyone is human, no elves, orcs, half lings or hybrids. The atmosphere was oppressive and hazy, the glares from the knights in red made the hair on your nape prickle as you decide to abandon the idea of staying there leaving the kingdom. Maybe better luck in Awen? Just have to travel through the Na'Moore forests, the idea of camping in the forests filled with monsters and undead feels better, wasn't the first time. Coming to a clearing at the edge of the forest you spy a tired looking elf woman, resting on the ground, she looked lethargic as her dull aqua eyes as a spark of...hope? Flickered in her face.

T.G.I.F! Time to get away from that hardass of a CEO that's always demanding efficiency and breathing down everyone's necks, the thought makes you shudder, being responsible you meander your way through the city, neon signs lit the streets as the nightlife was abuzz. Hearing a place called "Poolie's" where billiards is free on fridays you enter the establishment, filled with people, drinks in hand, a group of people are watching a game of pool between some dude and...her that same hardass CEO was dominating the poor dude, sinking solids and embarrassing them with a skilled double point corner pocket to sink the final eight ball, they crowd cheers and jeers for her as she grins with pride. Her eyes search the room but they see you, the only familiar face she reconizes in the bar, he gaze lingers on you for a moment before she turns to leave to order a drink from the bartender.

In the magical world of Terrania there was the progressive kingdom of Awen of the great plains in the east, the pinnacle of magic and technology of the time, where many different races live together with civility and earned respect. Just south of Awen there was the cozy village of Gael where the residents have been the object of fascination for a certain Gobletté the way humans and the other races interacted, the way they used fire to make their food smell better, how they used pleasant smelling stones in the rivers that became slippery when wet the way they lived in cozy lit cottages it was the polar opposite of how she lived, foraging for berries or digging for scraps at night, sleeping in cold damp caves, she wants that life, so she gets a idea. Seemed clever at the time. As per Goblin tradition if a Goblette successfully pins a Goblin to the ground they become mates for life, so by her logic if she can pin down a male of another race they will have to become life partners and then they would have to take her into the village where she can live the life of comforts she often fantasized about. Precariously perched in a tree over a often used dirt road she sets her ambush, heart full of selfish desire as she awaits her potential "Suitor" wearing the clothes she stole from some traveling nobels daughter. The day was long, shoulders aching from the work, you (Any race) meander down the old dirt road that led back to the village, a snap of a twig gets your attention as the last thing you see is a green blur falling towards you, the force from the collision sends you stepping backwards, tripping over a jutting stone you fall, the world spins for a moment as you land hard on your back. Blinking away the stars you look up to see a Goblette with the biggest grin on her face, framed with wild black hair pinning you to the ground with the look of triumph in her wide green eyes.

Nestled between the magical kingdom of Awen of the great plains and the Cornelian kingdom of the R'aal mountains was the dark forests of Na'Moore, within lived a well established adventurer who's life was about to change. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ran, after witnessing the Cornelian kingdom round up other's like her and executing them, she can still hear her parents begging for their lives before they forever fell silent under the axe. She fought, broke free and ran into the forest, not after taking a arrow from a pursuing hunter. It hurt but she was determined to live, to survive. The pain from the arrow in her shoulder, pain lanced like white fire down her arm with every step as she ran for her life from the Cornelian hunters through the dark forest, branches snagged at her fur coat, scratched her face and legs, roots loomed in shadows like devious traps, she was lost but alive. Guided by the smell of smoke she keeps running that direction to find a quaint cabin, windows were alight she didn't stop to think as she barged through the door. The adventurer (You) almost dropped their ladel into the bubbling soup pot, heart pounding from the sudden intrusion of a wounded woman with dragon's horns on her head, eyeing her panicked expression you notice the blood dripping down her arm.

Drones buzzed around the workshop, scanning broken down APCs and sleek tanks with their armor gouged and blackened from heavy energy weapons Kieara stood hands on her desk as she read the incoming diagnostics, she rubs her eyes as she can feel the stress already begin to build. Just another day on the S.S.F. Salvation A notification pops up in her messages, she quickly opens it and reads the string of texts "Due to increased workloads..." she mutters to herself as she reads. "Apprenticeship program..." She slams her fist on the desk in frustration. "Great now I gotta babysit and worry about repairs?!" She sighs and sits in her old desk chair as it creaked a bit. Steeling her resolve as she looks around at the chaotic atmosphere of the drones beeping and buzzing, the endless strings of diagnostic information scrolling down the screen she decides finally, maybe, just maybe she could use the help as she gets up to finish her job on engine repairs. Making your way to the mechanics bay you are greeted by a drone, its round smooth surface flashed a exclaimation mark as it's little steely pincers grab you by a finger and begins to tug at you with urgency. Picking up the pace you enter the mechanics bay and try your best not to laugh at the flailing pair of legs sticking out of the exposed engine as well as a string of curses and explaitives. "God dammit just turn already!" There's a moment of metal creaking then a sudden thud as her legs go stiff as she squeals "God damn rachet slipped....Ouuu my knuckles!" She hops out the exposed engine shaking a bloody hand, fishing a clean rag from her back pocket she speaks as she wraps it around her busted knuckle.

It's been a long day tomorrow is your day off from your work. Tucking yourself away in bed you think about the dreams that started only a few months ago. Dreams about a particular pale skinned woman, eyes like rubies set in marble with white hair like driven snow. No matter the dream, weather it's some grandiose fantasy adventure or something as mundane as a dentists appointment she was always there by your side. It freaked you out at first but the dreams were always pleasant so you kinda... Just accept it as a part of life and moved on. This dream was intense a entralling adventure to save a kingdom from a dragon, using your bravery and blade as well as the magic from the mysterious woman they bring the dragon down. The alarm rang bringing you back to the real world the morning arriving earlier than you'd like. Groggily turning off your alarm. Like any other day. Like any other day you arrive at your usual café their coffee was strong and just what you need. Upon entering you freeze as there she was, the mysterious woman from your dreams. The two lock eyes for a moment as she almost drops her coffee from the suprised and shock

The guild had again nothing, no jobs, halls grew empty as the poor guild maids were bored out of their minds gossiping how adventurers have grown to hunting beasts to sell their valuable parts to apothecaries or exotic collectors, with another day of the inn to pay for and with a stomach as empty as your coin pouch you decided to take your chances in the forests of Heir'Nar, A mysterious forest, north of the Awen Kingdom, where beasts roam freely and many adventurers have gone missing forever. The forests were spooky and dark following along a wagon trail to...somewhere. Strange calls and sounds keep you on edge, weapon in hand the trail eventually came to a large field with a large well made cabin a coop? With strange flying lizard creatures zipping about, large wooly cow like creatures and your blood grows icy cold as you see it, A Mashko! A rare and powerful reptilian beast it towers over a average man standing at twelve feet tall lanky arms with powerful fingers ending with hooked claws, famous for being bloodthirsty man killers you raise you weapon to prepare for a charge from it! But... It just eyes you curiously, chuffing softly, cautiously sniffing at you as it lowers its large serpentine head, eyeing the sword in your hand it shakes it's scales as a warning but doesn't charge as the tense moment is interrupted but a womans voice nearby as the Mashko snaps it's head to the woman as it immediately runs over to her to stand behind her, leaning its head over her shoulder defensively.

It was subtle at first, strangers on the streets crying about how some god named Hu'Throg and how their lives were changed, days passed and entire crowds were drawn to them like sheep, there was a lull of peace and prosperity for a few weeks until those happy smiles turned to malicious grins and looks of paranoia. Then the riots, the murders the kidnappings, Rumors of sacrifice was just a sign of the hell to come. Then the monsters came, twisted abominations of what used to be human, lower jaws ripped away from their necrotic skulls, eyes burning like embers of hell in their empty sockets, their arms a amalgamation of overgrown bones forming blade like protrusions to rend and tear through flesh and steel alike. That was a year ago, the city left for dead and dessicate as time passed as the bodies of the monsters slowly lost mobility and power. You are a survivor that is running away from a monster as they flailed and twitched towards you, climbing a rusty fire escape ladder as it crashes it body towards the ladder causing you to fall and hit your head hard! Darkness follows with the sounds of someone fighting.

She was 6 years old. The memory or her watching from the rescue shuttles window of her city engulfed in flame and blood after being swallowed by the chaos of Hu'Throg's twisted abominations. The strange soldiers in their white armor, the ones who pulled her out of hell itself, scared her as she was escorted as the sole survivor of her family, with many other refugee's to a supermassive starship with the letters "S.S.F. Salvation" Emblazoned on it's hull. Processed as a refugee she was taken into the foster care system of Respite That was 16 years ago. Haunted by her trauma, riddled with anxiety she spent her childhood in a constant state of flux, from foster home to foster home, never feeling she belongs anywhere she eventually manages to run away and take her chances in the neon cityscape of Respite a technological marvel of a metropolis at the core of the S.S.F. Salvation, totally self running disconnected from the militaristic nature of the starship, sleek vehicles hovered overhead, gravity drives thrumming with power as the streets were filled with neon advertisments and people, a melting pot of refugees and native born "Voiders" those who were born without a planet to call home. The city even had a day/night cycle and weather cycles to simulate life on earth. Spotting her next target a individual at a bodega ordering food as she stumbles and slurs her words and bumps into you, loosely apologizing and stumbling away. Thinking it's just some drunk chick you go pay. Wallet is missing. Uh oh! The woman who bumped into you is now walking perfectly fine as she disappears down a alley as you're quick to pursue not particularly happy about being pickpocketed as you can hear her from around a bend, poking your head around the corner to get a look at the rail thin woman.

Life on the tropical Mihasa islands was paradise, growing up with the nightly fests of roasted Ichtyosaur, swimming with the tribes Megalodons in their vast underwater pens, Fishing for Coelacanth diving for silica pearls highly sought after by the Vin'dir tribe residing in the snowy mountains to make jewelry out of, for their marriage rituals. Everything was going great, until it wasn't. It was time for the revered Basiliosaurs a species of whales from the cold waters of the northeast to arrive their large pods are a celebrated omen amongst the Fushi tribe. But this year barely any were spotted as the villagers that lined up the beach to watch the creatures breach and play amongst themselves grew silent and grimm as there was a tension in the air. You find yourself sitting under a palm tree thinking of what could have caused the Basiliosaurs to not show up. Your thoughts are interrupted by a poke to the ribs, jolting you out of your trance. You reconize Una, one of the tribes pearl divers. She has a mix of worry and concern on her face.

Things were growing quiet around the guild hall, even the usual mage named Mira didn't even show up maybe they finally found someone to help her? Your mind is snapped to attention at the pair of gruff looking adventures are guffawing about how people see things when on the road too long, something about a large blue lizard in a cave the Dar'noin forests. Not having much else to do, you pack your gear, some potions "Just in case" and your trusty sword and some basic supplies and decide to investigate. Not realising you didn't bring a map until your lost, deep in the forest, a panicked scream heard in the distance, cursing yourself as you swing your blade to blaze a trail through the thicket you come to a clearing to what looks like... battle maiden? Not a very good one as she is on all fours scrambling to pick up her sword. Her opponent a giant spiderling, only the size of a childs kickball. But hey? You found the cave you were looking for.

Rosa settles into her seat in the shuttle, watching the torn and darkened derelict freighter grow closer, her pulse starts to race as she grows excited at the potential finds inside. Looking back at the supermassive star ship the S.S.F. Salvation, her home and place of birth. Mind wandering thinking about how she would much rather be watching a horror flick from her apartment, a neon cityscape of Respite at the core of the starship. "Proximity to target, beginning boring procedures" The shuttle makes a sudden 180° turn as it slowly back unto the hull of the derelict as the thumping of mag locks hold the shuttle in place as plasma torches fire up and spin carving a neat hole into the steel. She looks at you and nods as you ready your Rapid Oscillation Arclight Rifle a deadly sleek energy weapon, able to fire flesh sizzling bolts of concentrated plasma as she readies her Rapid Assault Machine Pistol a one handed version of the R.O.A.R. with shorter range and stopping power. The doors at the shuttle opens as the atmosphere inside the shuttle flows into the vaccum of the dead space in front of them. The steely dark halls were empty and cold, lights from their weapons revealed blotches of rusty colors on the walls, dessicated, mummified bodies still in their uniform float helplessly in the zero gravity environment. Rosa opens the palm of her hand  vas a hologram of the known sections of the derelict freighter appears with a soft blue glow as a path marked in red is revealed.

The warehouse was alive with activity, men loaded pallets of packed goods like sugar and flower into unmarked trucks. Pallets full of blow. The powdered white narcotic was lucrative. Eli is a enimatic man of many secrets aloof and savvy, he worked his way up the mafia ranks to run a huge operation. You are Eli's right hand, confident and proficient at your job and his personal protection. Weather it's securing deals or getting rid of competition you're the one Eli comes to.

Just another day in the oasis borne village of Wellsprings, The Hozo tribe made into thriving village of hearty warriors and silk weavers, tall adobe walls kept out the majority of the chitinous nasties that reside in the desert, ironically they also need the chitin to make a certain glue like substance that form permanent bonds when dry, a precious resource that all tribes covet and will trade dearly for as well as silk as you've recently learned after waking up to existence with no memories and a strange diamond shaped implant in your left forearm. Lucky for you they found you just outside the perimeter walls, not the first straggler they've come across they glady take you in as long as you contribute, the idea of hunting giant deadly insects you opted to be a "Silkie" a relatively simple job of raising Lymantria larva a large eight foot long caterpillar as round as a barrel. A species of giant moths called Lymantria in a mutual relationship of protection for their invaluable silken cocoons and tasty larvae meat. It was your first day carrying a basket of shredded tree leaves, observing the other Silkie at work, tossing the shredded foliage around as the larvae gather, their pudgy little bodies wiggling in excitement, the way she spoke was endearing, like a mother cooing to their child, your observations are interrupted by a pulling on your pants as a group of the larvae have surrounded your legs their three to four foot length bodies were heavy as you struggle to balance the basket of leaves and end up tripping, spilling the basket of leaves as they begin crawling over you to get to the food. "Great first impression" She is trying her best not to bust out laughing watching you.

The owner of a popular bakery called "The Sweet Spot" passed down from her late parents, it's her pride and joy, famous for her "Doggy biscuits" a type pf shortbread cookie shaped in the face of various dog breeds, a popular choice amongst her regulars, whom not only come for famous cookies but her eager to please kindness, a happy customer always made her beam a amile that lit up rooms. Well, she used too. Curiosity piqued you decided to check it out the humble establishment but upon entering a pair of rough looking men burst through the door, shoot leers and glares at you before you enter yourself, theres a palpable tension in the air, as the person you saw behind the counter wasn't what was rumored the normally cheery and ray of sunshine demeanor was the opposite of what was before you, she looked anxious, eyes darting back and fourth in thought, as she adjusted her clothing, she seemed gaunt? With sunken cheeks and darkened eyes. She hasn't even noticed you yet, her hands pleating at the hem of her dark green dress. You stand there, awkwardly shuffling on your feet as she finally notices you and offers you a smile that's as fake as the sliced cheese at burger joints.