Marks Across the Page. (writing samples)

[Nyxanthi]

Liars and Cheats.

The rain that once signified new life and the cleansing of the earth, now just seemed hell bent on driving the poison and filth deep into every nook and crevice. Ferocious in its desire to drown out anything of use, and establish itself as the next phase of the planets destruction.



Ari sat perched in what little shelter the chapel bell tower provided, cropped black hair was slick to her scalp, cold droplets running down her neck beneath her collar, pale grey eyes reflected the mood of the sky above. Emotionless she watched the man below complete his pilgrimage to the grave of his wife. Ari briefly wondered what it was people thought of, said or did when visiting such places, it wasn't really something she had any experience of. There were no friends , no family, just contacts. This didn't bother her, she liked to keep things simple, no ties no complications.

It had been one of these contacts that had come to her about this job, well come to her inbox anyway. All that was contained was a mans picture, an approximate location and instructions to follow him until further notice. That had been nearly 3 weeks ago, and she still had received no further instructions.

If he knew he was being tailed he showed no signs of it, although his behaviour suggested someone very familiar with covert exercises, and since she had never taken an opportunity to confront him, he either didn't know she was there or chose to ignore her. A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye snapped her back into the present . The thunder made it difficult to hear what was being said , even for Ari's enhanced senses. Then before she even had time to make sense of what was going down, her mark was moving in.

" what the hell is he doing?" The words came out in an exasperated mutter as Ari vanished from sight reappearing at ground level. Without a sound she flanks the action, wincing slightly at the sound of a bat impacting on flesh.

No one noticed the slight shudder in the veil as Ari vanished from sight , nor did anyone pay attention to her sudden appearance on the other side of the commotion. It was the sound of a vehicle approaching that clued her in as to what was going down, quickly taking cover behind another headstone she reached into a pocket pulling out a small flat disk no bigger than a penny. Staying low, she stuck it inside the rear fender, whilst her mark was disabled and dragged into the car. as they pulled away she checked her phone, pulling up a map of the city , she watched a blinking dot appeared on her screen going in the direction the car had taken off in. Ari stared after it, now, she appreciated that her job had been to keep an eye on this guy but no one had said anything about this kind of trouble.



A sudden crack of thunder brought Ari back to her senses, if she had to follow him she needed to go home first, check in to see if there was some more information, and maybe pick up some hardwear. Her desire to leave this place seemed to instigate some sort of reaction as her whole body seemed to almost phase out of sight , then that sensation of the veil tearing and in her next step Ari vanished.

At least that's how it would appear To anyone watching. The truth though was that Ari had a talent that made her incredibly valuable. Even the most practiced in magic couldn't simply manipulate the veil the way she could, but that was Ari's little secret , and she planned for it to stay that way.

In the meantime, she had to hope that some answers to what the hell was going on, might be forth coming, before she decided wether or not to honour this contract.





(....this is a reply to a group post hence the gaps in information. But I liked the vibe so brought it here.)

[Nyxanthi]

Sigdom's Blade



.Rudiger



Dawn. I walk through the corpses on the battlefield, my feet crunching the hard packed snow. My breath comes out in great plumes before freezing to my beard. Overhead, crows begin to circle, cawing in excitement at the coming feast.



As the sun casts its sickly pale glow across the land, I take my first good look at my surroundings. Thousands of bodies lay before me in various stages of death and dismemberment. Decapitated heads, gouged eyes, spilled entrails and severed limbs form a bloody, gore drenched carpet over the snow, staining it a rusty brown colour.



In the distance I see my companion Bleidd working her way through a cluster of corpses. The half elf has a keen eye and even keener hearing which allowed us to follow the army undetected across the Sordkapp Mountains until they arrived here, on this vast open plain and did battle with mutant Norsemen. The battle had raged all night, Count Vorstadt's forces fighting valiantly but ultimately suffering a crushing defeat. The survivors had retreated, chased by hordes of Norsemen back into the mountains. The screams of the captured humans being tortured and killed had pierced the night and given me goosebumps.



I gaze at one of the Norsemen. Vile, mutated, barely human creatures, the Norsemen were the product of decades of inbreeding and black magic. The one at my feet died from massive trauma to its head, the axe that split its overly large skull still embedded deep in the flesh and bone. I gaze into its face and feel the bile rise before moving on.



Corpse looters, that's what Bleidd and I were now.







Bleidd



Sensitive hearing is one thing , Hawk like vision is also perfect for jobs like these, however an exceptional sense of smell , is neither required nor recommended and by the 'Stalkers Blade' I wished for the dozenth time that I had no nose. Drenching my scarf in Lavender and Marjoram in an attempt to disguise the smell, of death and feces, I fought the sensation of my stomach attempting an escape. If I thought the Norsemen smelt bad alive, they were a positively other worldly dead. As my fingers swiftly tackled the buckles and fastenings of yet another half frozen corpse I had to wonder why the Hell I was here instead of taking the cushy little scouts job going South. Subconsciously my eyes scan the field until I find him, and sigh , the job South had been a one man affair. My attempts to convince the self important caravan leader that Rudiger would prove his worth should trouble arise fell on deaf ears. They wouldn't pay the extra fee, so corpse looting it was. ' The joys of having a partner.' That wasn't fair, the pro's far outweighed the cons , it was just right now I'd give our entire haul for a warm ale.





The harness sticks so out comes the skinning knife, a swift circular cut and the fastenings drop away. There are a few Items of Traditional jewellery most likely snatched from some victim of the last place they raped and pillaged their way through. Nothing worth shouting about, we didn't have long before the heat upped the stench brought the corpse eaters out.



I could maybe get through another three before we needed to decide if it was worth the extra trouble to hang on through the day.



Looking back up to Rudiger , I signal to know if we were still clear. We have worked together long enough to have established a series of hand signals to communicate over places like this so we aren't shouting and attracting the wrong kind of attention.



The fine layer of frost that had formed on my armour was just starting to defrost making everything feel damp. I stand up waiting for his reply , he's hardly a small man as it , standing up on the rise withe sun coming up he looks more akin to a bear than man. Chuckling i consider I might keep that to myself incase he doesn't appreciate the comparison.

[Nyxanthi]

The Winding Path

" Thats funny Syx, so what did they really want." Illindor lay back on his cot arms folded behind his head. The young Bael Hunter had always been far too cheerful for his own good, but sharing a room with him at the fort he had eventually grown on her, and whilst she would never admit it, she trusted him implicitly. When she didn't reply Illindor turned to look at her then propping himself up on his elbow. " your NOT kidding are you? That is what the summons was for?"



Syxanthie finished packing her sailcloth backpack. She unrolled a leather pouch, in it placing a series of barbed silver darts all laced holyhock and wolfsbane, the combination prevented transformations in shifters. Although it wasn't shifters or were-creatures in her sights this time, she liked to be prepared. Sighing she turned and sat on her own bunk. Her bright caustic yellow eyes, met with Illindors more amber tinted orbs, it was a sign they had both gone through 'The Trials' and lived.



"Yes, that is what the summons was for. Our king thinks he is losing his lands, and he wants me to bring him a higher demon with which to make a deal." If Syxanthie had any inner thoughts on the idea, she gave nothing away.



" Your not even meant to kill it?" Her friends tone was hushed, and eyes wide with the very idea.



"Well he couldn't very well make deal with a dead demon could he," she retorted "besides higher demons can only be banished. I don't know anyone who still makes the tools to kill one."



Illindor lay back again, staring at the ceiling, brow furrowed. "where you gonna find one , you can't summon it yourself, it will need free agency."



He had made an excellent point and Syx smiled "Your learning Illi" it was the closest thing to praise she had or likely would offer and he accepted it with good grace.

--------------------

--------------------

4 weeks later.



Syxanthie hunkered down in a small naturally formed alcove in the embankment, rain lashed down disrupted by the last of the autumn cover provided by the trees of the great border forest. It had been a month since her conversation with Illindor, and only now was she closing on her quarry. She figured the Order of Lallenias fire was probably 3 days ahead, and whatever they were tracking half a day ahead of them. She had taken down one of the Order, as insurance, giving her prey a better chance of being in one piece when she caught up to it. He wasn't dead just drugged and deluded, tied to a tree on the main path.



It was instinct That first told her she was no longer alone, reaching out with enhanced senses she heard a change in the sound of the falling rain. Somewhere behind off to the right it was landing on soft fur, the footfalls picked their way carefully, with each one the sodden earth gave way a little beneath the substantial weight of the beast. Even up wind the earthy carnivor scent was strong, it paused a moment to shake itself off. In that instant Syx loaded her crossbow, but remained in place, her travel cloak wrapped around her, hood keeping her pale skin in shadow. The footsteps turned in her direction, she raised her bow levelling it at around where she suspected, its chest would be. She could now hear snuffling and grumbling, her finger relaxed off the trigger and she pulled back from the sight as a rather large ruddy copper coloured bear ambled into view. She shook her head, and lowered her crossbow reprimanding herself from not being able to identify it sooner. It turned to look at her, pausing when it found her piercing yellow irises gleaming at it out of the dark. It sniffed in her direction, and smelt nothing. Obviously curious it wandered a little closer, Syx placed her bow on the ground and slowly pulled back her hood. Her normally cropped black hair, now jaw length, soaked through and disobedient. No matter how often she tried to tuck it behind her ears it would simply fall back down in front of her eyes. Able to see just as well in the dead of night as she could in daylight, it became obvious this massive beast was a good age. It eyed her cautiously, stretching it's neck as close as possible without moving itself closer taking deeper breaths, and snorting with the exhale. Syx remained entirely still hoping her provisions were well enough wrapped to avoid the inquisitive and undoubtedly peckish visitor, trying to fight her for the contents. A few minutes passed in this manner before the bear decided Syx was of no more interest and wandered off into the night. At this point Syxanthie realised the rain had finally slowed to a fine drizzle and that bear was probably right, it was time to move on.



The following two days and nights Syx made good progress, she had left the Great Forest and crossed the border into the neighbouring kingdom of Iarnaigg Torr. Closing the distance between her and her mark, evidence of the demon became more obvious. Small holdings razed to the ground, villages terrorised. Even the market town of Fenvale no longer allowed entrance, even to a Bael Hunter. Frustrated she had been forced to spend a day replacing used rations. Hunting small game, refilling her water satchel, she made new darts, sharpened and barbed her crossbow bolts, oiled her blades with poisons, and made repairs to her fine leather armour and her travel cloak.Once satisfied, she pushed on.



On her second night, she had come upon the two other members of Lellenias Fire, this time she approached and asked to share their fire. They nodded enthusiastically, eager to share their tale of their encounter with the Demon. It became quickly apparent they had no idea what they had been dealing with. It turned out the trap the Demon had encountered was centuries old, it had once been housed in a chapel, long since vanquished by the elements. Where another holy order, who's name was lost or long forgotten, had called forth Demons and tortured them for information or power. Syxanthie concealed her distaste, she had no love for fanatics of any ilk, no matter their claims of a higher calling. The pair continued, finally admitting they had been forced to leave the Demon injured but still very much alive on this plane.



"So the circle remains? " Syx asked.



"yeah, but its not been maintained, i am surprised it triggered at all." one of the Order replied. "I don't think it will have lasted the night, the runes are damaged in places and the circle is cracked but the boundary must still be in line, Or it never would it never would have caught the ugly brute."



"How far behind am I?"



"Hmm, a day and a half til the circle, even if it does get out I don't suppose it will be fit to get far...say you want a hand?" Both men suddenly looked at the Hunter with anticipation.



She shook her head. "No absolutely not...I work alone, besides you wouldn't be able to keep up."



" Think you might regret that choice, but your loss." The larger of the two men sniped.

Syxanthie let the comment go.

"Well Thank you for your time and your fire but i should probably keep moving."



The men began to try and pursued her to at least wait out the night, but swiftly realised she wasn't one for changing her mind. Syx wasn't sure quite what it was but she wanted to put some distance between herself and the two men before she tried to get a few hours rest. Following the trail for a way she broke off into a small copse, finding an old oak with broad branches she swung herself and her pack up with ease. Pressing her back against the trunk and wrapping herself up in her robe she was entirely hidden from the ground. Closing her eyes she drifted into a light doze, never allowing sleep to fully over take her.

[Nyxanthi]

The Hollowlands

This is a world of layers, of hierarchical dependence. For the longest time we, 'the others' were fed from, harvested our energies used to create immense metropli, where a righteous government sat at the precipice spouting rhetoric to the mundane. That they were the meek, the chosen children of their God and we were the offspring of demons sent to provide for their needs.



This is how it was, and how it has always been, until recently. By recently I mean, changes began to form in the last few hundred years.



The Righteous have become lazy and complacent in their lifestyles, and there are mummerings of change. What they do not understand high up there on their pedestal, is that what power they have obtained has been carefully fed, sacrificed to them by 'the others' . Founders and Natives of the Hollowlands, they are weaning the almighty and garnering strength amongst themselves, and their time will come, I can feel it.



Apex a city upon a city upon a city, thousands of years of life built on top of each other over and over again. It is the only safe harbour on this planet. Above ground it is scorched and barren, uninhabitable. Below ground there is shelter and the air becomes breathable but that's all this world offers.



Humanity should have perished. When it's ark landed here before recorded time, it's inhabitants should have been seared to paper dry husks, blasted into a thousand pieces by the raging storms. Then a miracle, deep beneath the surface of this nightmare, where the veil between the material realm and the warp is thin, from a place now known as the Hollowlands, help came.

Denizens of the warp came forth and offered aid, they were curious about these newcomers, these children of dust. Mundane, they had no magic, but intelligent, highly adaptable, short lived but highly fertile. They brought with them incredible technology, but had no way to power it. This desert world they had come to had no resources, no life, and no way out.



Working together the 'other's' were able help humanity by harnessing their energy and using it to create anything, from food and water to materials for construction. It was a simple exchange, and served both species well. The 'other's' got to expand their knowledge of the universe, this in turn increased their potential energy, and humanity got to continue its existence.



As is often the case some individuals from either side found a bond, a familiarity, forged relationships and from these relationships half-bloods were born. Human in form but with The ability manipulate the warp. Though not immortal like the 'other's' they were vastly long lived outstripping humanities average 150 years by another 500 years.



Sadly these half-blood children became a focus of concern for the mundane ruling classes, quickly identified and their abilities harnessed to provide for the masses, their existence a miserable one of servitude, even slavery.



Disillusioned with the treatment of their kin many of the warp beings returned to their own plane, unable to bear witness to the betrayal by those they had helped so long ago. Some stayed, forced to by their inability to let go of the solid physical forms they had created to live amongst the visitors. Their energies had forgotten how to return to the insubstantial existence they had once come from.





This is Apex! A technological marvel. A miracle. A neon glow in the deep. Where humanity exists off the blood of its brethren. Where the children of dust are seated high off the ground, surrounded by smooth walls and polished glass. In its own way a utopia.



For those with the warp in their blood, or those who simply sympathize, and recognise the twisted hypocrisy of Apex, there is The Hollowlands, the foundation level of Apex. Where the veil is still thin and there is dirt beneath your feet. Where those warp touched can stand some chance of living a life, and more recently where plans have begun to be made to change the balance.

[Nyxanthi]

Last World Order



The old defender kicked up dirt as Echo steered it along what should have been a track of some sort according to the old maps she'd found. It had taken her three weeks to scavenge parts and fuel to get the old Landrover back in working order. Unregistered and untraceable it had been totally worth it.



As the ground got rougher and the tree line denser she dropped gears, the clutch of the old stick shift refusing to bite grinding then slipping, before a fortuitous rut in the path seemed to knock it into place. Slowing down she eased on the brakes, then grabbing the map off the passenger seat took another look. It was no good, nearly 200 years had passed since that map had been printed. The wilderness had reclaimed much of what had been there, trying to recognise landmarks was near impossible she couldn't even be sure she was still going the right way.



Apparently there had once been a vast dam, spanning the canyon that split the land here.The yawning gap went on as far as the eye could see in either direction. So far though, all Echo had found was trees and more trees. She was at least climbing upward so that was something. Getting back in the cab of the Landrover she continued on keeping to the edge of the tree line as much as was possible whilst still heading to the crest of the hill.



It was late afternoon when the trees cleared and she finally reached a plateau near the top. Pulling up she climbed out, wandering around the back she opened the tail gate and slid a large metal trunk forward and flipping the latch the front dropped open revealing several firearms carefully cleaned and housed. Echo had collected weapons that were simple to maintAin, reliable and easy to come by. Revolvers and hunting rifles were the main choices but she had also found an old government issue Colt 1911 semi automatic on her travels. The old .45 had taken a bit of restoring but once she had started looking it hadn't taken long to get it in working order. Taking the sight off an M14 she then closed and locked the weapons cache before sliding it back into the rover.



The sun was getting low, Echo began feeling the telltale signs of withdrawal. Making her way to the passenger side she climbed in and opened the glove box. Inside it a bright halogen light flickered on to reveal clean brushed stainless steel and drawer slid gently forward with a soft hiss. In it several partitions, holding syringes, needles and ampules of a dark viscous looking liquid. Taking one of the syringes she filled it a third full, then twisted on a needle, removing any air. She then pulled up her right sleeve, a narrow panel in her augmented arm seemed to automatically slide back and a narrow valve became visible, pushing the hypodermic into the opening, she depressed the plunger, her eyes kidding shut as the cold liquid carrier entered her system, the nanytes withinl got to work restoring and maintaining the nerves and muscles that had been severed, reworked, and grafted to the internal workings of her bio-tech prosthetic. The process was then repeated, twice in her arm, and four times for each leg. Once done she sat back, eyes closed and waited for the nausea to subside.





12 years ago in her unit had been in a battle of attrition. A collection of rebels had got together, formed a militia, an effective one too. They formed an independent state, it attracted followers and quickly became perceived a threat by what remained of the Military. With no effective government, Marshall law had been the norm for over a century. People wanted a change.

Scouting for her unit she had tripped an IED. She lost 3 of her 4 limbs, her Captain lost her legs trying to save her. Echo didn't remember much except waking up in an underground medical facility and being told she'd be fine.



Only it wasn't fine. The procedure was considered a success, they removed all bone and fragments from her lower limbs then grafted the remaining muscle, tendon and nerve tissue the prosthetics, using nanytes to force grow new tissue and keep the connections viable. It was so painful there were many times Echo wished she had just gone and died in that fucking explosion. Even now 12 years on she would awake with nausea and cold sweats tremors and every day she pukes her guts up with pain for half an hour while her body fights with the augments and her nerves try to make connections that aren't there. There hadn't really been an option Echo, was born into the Military literally, her mother and father serving officers right up to the day she was born in the back of an APV. It was all she had known and if she wanted to be of use....



The sun had set by the time she was ready to move, day or night didn't matter, her limbs weren't the only improvements they had taken it upon themselves to make. Optical enhancements had been another. Pulling on her bomber jacket, she strapped the old 45 into a thigh holster and equipped with enough rations for 24hrs she started to hike the last bit of the climb. It wasn't cold considering the altitude and lack of cloud cover, and Echo made good time, breaking into a jog as she neared the top. What she saw took her breath way.



The map had been right the canyon cut a scar across the land in front of her for as far as the eye could see in either direction.The sides alternated between heavy brush covered, and sheer scree slopes, it must have been 300 meters deep maybe more and a 1.5 kliks across. Sure enough half a kilometre to her left was the dam. Halfway there she encountered the security fence, weather worn and long since past effective, Echo found a gap she was able to squeeze through and made her way towards the only visible building. It was a long, low, grey, steel reinforced concrete bunker. A heavy steel door, with no visible lock or access point, sat flush in the wall. Echo ran her fingers around the small gap that outlined the entrance, finding nothing she stepped back. Turning her right arm over another small panel slid back exposing a Tac-pad, an electronic multi-tool, it could do pretty much anything, from international communications to remotely access advanced security systems, it's universal communicator meant it was able to access and communicate with systems no longer in use anymore. It took 10 minutes of walking the perimeter of the bunker before she found a small security camera, it had no power but it had a connection to the inside console. 30 seconds later the camera whirled back to life she reversed the feeds and was able to see inside the building. There was a keypad by the door, once she knew what type of access she needed the rest was simple. Sure enough another moment later the door slid open and Echo smiled a small smile of satisfaction.



Once inside however she was rather underwhelmed, there were two rooms side by side. One with the dam controls and monitors a few security settings, the other more a communal area, with a small med bay. The more she looked around the more she felt she was missing something. She paced from room to room, then she paused. Looking around she realised how much smaller it felt inside than it had looked from the outside. This time she paced out the width of the room, it was 2 meters too shallow. Excitedly she started knocking on the walls until it rang hollow. There was a bookcase in the way…'how original'. Quickly she accessed the buildings systems but found nothing. 'it must be separate, but why?'



She stood back her eyes scanning the books, there was all sorts from car engine manuals to 21st century lads mags. Books on computer maintenance, to murder mystery. She was about to reprimand herself for wasting her time when something caught her eye. 'Lovecraft' she raised an eyebrow, it meant nothing to her but for some reason the bold gothic typeface stood out. Back in her tax-pad, she accessed the security network and typed in Lovecraft. For a moment there was nothing and then a resounding echoing grinding shudder as 300 year old power systems came on line and 200 years of inactivity reluctantly loosened its grip, somewhere far beneath her an siren sounded. After 20 seconds it stopped and the book shelf slid back revealing a tungsten elevator doors that hesitently slid open.



Cautiously she stepped inside just as the doors slid shut behind her, and the elevator began to drop downward. She was in there for several moments before any indicators came up to show floors. They also were not called floors but levels. At first she pressed level 5 having already missed 1-4. The stop was smooth, despite the hollow sounds of the wheels breaking on the cables that travelled throughout the lift shaft.





Whatever she had done above ground appeared to have got, at very least, the emergency power back online down here. This area seemed largely residential, 'what on earth were they doing down here?' Echo wondered out loud. The place had a weird feeling and the security was far too intense for a dam. Maybe if she had a snoop through the private quarters it could tell her more about what was going on in the lower levels. After what seemed like an uncomfortable am out of time, Echo finally found something. A private journal found in one of the last rooms stopped her dead in her tracks and gave her the first insight as to what had really been going on here 200 years ago.

[Nyxanthi]

WORLDBUILD

Well, it happened, the world ended. 95% of life on the planet died. The Big Freeze, they called it ... guess it sounded less I-told-you-so than the new ice age. While it was probably the actual cold that killed half the human population, and most of the wildlife, frozen vortexes flash-freezing whole areas in seconds, it was the breakdown of infrastructure that killed off the large cities, the places you could still find some warmth. Now we eke out a life however we can, making our homes underground, where the dirt is still warm, scavenge for usable good, for resources, sure never to stay out past nightfall, to keep an ear out for the signals; Enemy, Vortex, or Radiation. Now we keep close to the fires, to the heaters, to one another, with the cold at our backs, and a bleak future ahead, will the spark of humanity survive the bitter cold? Will you help the cause of community, or break off to live as a lone wolf in the cold? Welcome to New Galiano ... I hope you brought your mittens.

2F94F4EC00000578-3372059-image-m-78_1450883610652.jpg

History: Everything started ... well, okay, everything started in like, the 19th century, but one day in the 21st century, in 2024 to be exact, the weather went all wonky. Summer and Winter were like ice and fire across the globe, the extremes in weather killing huge swaths of the population ... then winter started to spread. By the end of the year it had encompassed the entire planet. That's when the vortices started. Storms that pulled super-cooled air down from the top of the atmosphere, as cold as -135 Celcius. They moved across the countries, the continents, the world, freezing everything. It was 2026 when the oceans finished freezing over, and by 2027 we'd settled into what we now call society. Thankfully there hasn't been a reported vortex in the last year, but the wind is still blowing, and it hasn't gotten any warmer.

Landscape: The world was as you know it, basically, when the flash-freezing started ... there are a few new islands in the pacific, but what else is new, they're just rocks. Bodies of water are frozen solid across the surface of the planet, all of ... well, maybe the dead sea, and the Salton sea are still liquid, but otherwise, all water is frozen solid, right down to a hundred feet. Permafrost covers most of the open land, and with the ground frozen down to ten or twenty feet dependent on the type of ground, there is no vegetation left, just the fossilized skeletons of trees and bushes that have managed to stand up to the winds, which tear constantly across the frozen planet. The conditions have eroded most standing structures, with some cities literally toppled, and innumerable smaller towns wiped from the map by the combination of elements. That which remains is jagged, skeletal, encased in ice and frost. The safest places are those built underground; mines, caves, subway stations, old silos, underground parking, anything built twenty feet or more underground is mostly safe from the cold and the wind, though air exchange will obviously mean heating is necessary.

There are forty or so settlements scattered across the 5000(65x77-ish) square-kilometre city, hidden in underground structures, and those few above ground capable of withstanding the cold and wind, or being reinforced against them (solid stone over steel, low to the ground, could withstand a fairly sizable bomb). Most hold anywhere from 150 to 300 people, a few as large as 500. The settlements are like ... inventive shanty towns, recycled walls and tech and makeshift furniture. Because very few settlements have access to vehicles that will run in this weather, and because having and using one makes a group a target for raiders, there isn't really the options of undertaking massive construction projects. Imagine what kind of building materials you could functionally carry through a frozen windstorm at best, and a snow-blasted hurricane at worst. Some places are obviously better designed from the get-go to provide certain functions. In the case of my example, the freezers of various sizes provide the option for offices and private quarters for important people, but everyone else sleeps in the big warehouse space, maybe with like sheets, or recovered junk from somewhere nearby.

NOTE: If you have an idea for a colony, submit it to me!

1/40

Spoiler: Beacon
A fairly well-armed and lawful colony that trades with outsiders, but rarely if ever sell their food stores. They are led by democratic council, and protected by a volunteer militia that uses weapons taken from criminals, or as fines from people who start shit. The colony is built into a refrigerated cargo ship frozen in place in the harbour. With various sizes of room ranging from walk-in to warehouse, the ship is already protected from the cold by the power of irony, and by the technology they have put together to warm areas between thermal spaces, and housing spaces.

Environment: While the polar vortices seem to have stopped for now, the median temperature is still -75C during the day, and -100C at night, weather so cold that it has inspired new technology, though even the well equipped don't stay out after 'nightfall', which is difficult to determine without being able to see the sky ... ever. The wind is constantly blowing at between 60 and 120 Kilometres per hour. While there are no longer any clouds, anywhere, wind of this force and constancy keeps the light, fluffy powder snow in motion, never letting it settle, rendering a constant blizzard. It's possible to tell daytime from the presence of ambient light, but being outside, away from a safe space, and seeing it get dark is essentially a death sentence, unless you have some incredible heating and thermo gear.

Glowstorms are a new occurrence. With no clouds to focus charge from the upper atmosphere, focusing single points for lightning, ionic charge in the atmosphere instead discharges into snow-fronts, which then whip across the land until they hit something. While in charged and in-motion, they leave an ethereal trail of blue light.

Normal storms also occur, when the wind picks up to 380 Km/h, and the only safe place to be is underground. These kinds of winds are usually followed by the only periods of clear left on earth, but the wind quickly blows snow back into the area.

Technology: Now, you probably guessed that technology, like animals and plants, isn't designed to function in -100 degrees. Lubricants and fuels freeze, metal shrinks and warps and becomes brittle, chemicals don't react as quickly as they should, if they do at all. Any vehicle not designed or modified for use in the cold will sputter out and fail just shortly after you're blown off the open road by the winds. Guns will work fine indoors, but after a few minutes in the cold they're likely to jam and fail unless they're kept warm. Anything with moving parts, open spaces for condensation to gather and freeze, anything not proofed against the cold has or will succumb to it.

HOWEVER! Jerry rigging, homebrewing, and making weird shit in your basement is still a thing, especially since everyone now lives in one kind of basement or another. Heating rigs for guns, cars, and people, pedal generators, methane-fuel generators and converters (ew ...), home-made flamethrowers and taser gloves and sawblade-launchers ... if your twisted mind can conceive of it, and you have the skills, you can make or find it somewhere. Whether it works or not is another story, I'm sure, frozen in the ice, are a thousand and one people who thought they were buying a working jet-pack. Again, all moving parts, liquid systems, etc, are unlikely to work in the cold. As a general rule, also keep in mind that building things yourself means they're often rather shitty, and even the best have like ... a 20% risk of causing a fire or something.

Society: There are always outliers, but generally speaking people have broken up into a few distinct groups.

1) Colonists - The optimists, those who have agreed to carry the rules of society forward even after the end of the world. They believe in law, in everyone pulling their weight, and will often provide a safe place for outsiders to stay, while keeping a close eye and demanding payment from those with enough to spare. You won't find them on the surface much, hence the general nomenclature, but if you wander into any large, underground space, you're likely to bump into either a few, or a fuckload of them.

2) Traders - There are few reasons to risk the frost, but one of the most alluring is greed. Those with any morals become traders. Those without become ...

3)Raiders - Scumbags, and the cold killed most of the dumb ones, and all the weak ones. They travel in caravans of vehicles modified at various levels of skill, pray on any group or individual they think they can overpower, some have even taken whole colonies if the rumours are true. They sleep wherever they can, in utility basements and the bottoms of underground parking garages, usually roaming the cities looking for places unlooted, and people unprotected.

4) Altruists - Not everyone is driven into the frost by profit. Some people, and god knows why, are out there just to help anyone who needs it, point them toward a colony, save them from ne'er-do-wells, etc.

5) Scavvers - While the name has stuck, not all Scavvers are actual 'scavengers.' These aren't bad people, they're just ... bad-with-people people. Most make a living finding half-functional tech or scrap and selling it to traders or directly to colonies. There are other ways to make a living though, and all that makes a scavver a scavver is choosing to live out in the cold instead of the relative safety of a colony.

6) Military - Well ... you won't really run into them, they're all sealed up in their high-tech bunkers while we turn into amusingly shaped meat-sicles. Sometimes you'll pick up their broadcasts, but that's about it.

7) Sadists - You ever hear of Wendigos? Traders and travellers in the days before north america was paved ... they would get lost in winter, be forced to eat their fellow travellers to stay alive. Maybe the cold just does that to some people, makes them crazy, gets into their heads ... makes them think they're the fire. I'm not saying they eat people, but they live for cruelty ... and some of them eat people.
​