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[WB] Purgatory: Under the Black Star (Rough WIP)

Aethernaut

Otherworldly Visitor
Joined
Aug 21, 2022
Location
a dimension beyond comprehension
Themes: Dystopian Science Fantasy with a dash of Horror and Cyberpunk

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⟼Purgatory ⟻
Spacingstuffwithspacingtext.Spacingstuffwithspacing textThe Black Star
There is only one star above Zonia. Its hateful rays paint the sky a bloody red. At night there is nothing but utter blackness. Some believe the Star devoured the universe outside. Others believe the star whisked them away for judgement. None know for certain. There are none alive who remember what it was like before the Doom. Foolish people believe it was a time of plenty and safety, a paradise. Wiser people know that the Star came to punish them for their ancestor's sins.

The World of Zonia
It has been three hundred years since the Doom. Three hundred years has the planet of Zonia basked in the baleful light of the Black Star. The planet's denizens are cut off from the rest of the galaxy. Nobody is coming to save them. Civilization still exists on the planet, albeit in a crude feudal form. To be a lowly citizen in any of Zonia's settlements is to be subjected to constant tyranny. Lords on Zonia are harsh and uncompromising. Citizens seldom have any rights beyond what their ruler whims. Shortages of food, water and electricity are frequent. Yet for most the mere veneer of safety and stability proves preferrable to eking out a living in the unforgiving wilderness where life is uniformly nasty, brutish and short.
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Sifters
The wilderness is an unforgiving place. Most wildlife on Zonia have a distinct appetite for human flesh, to say nothing of the other things lurking in the shadows. Yet for those who risk it there are many treasures to be found. A Data-Guild will pay a small fortune for advanced pre-Doom tech saved from the wilderness. Long forgotten trade caravans full of goods lay half buried ripe for the picking. The older a sifter is, the more respected they are by their peers.
Sickles
Hired thugs are never in short supply, nor are they ever in low demand. Whether as a caravan guard, a pit fighter, or simply a goon to intimidate and bully lessers; the wealthy and powerful on Zonia require a steady supply of thugs in their endless games of oppression and intrigue. Competing guilds of mercenaries occasionally wage small wars on each other in competition for lucrative contracts.
The Trodden
The overwhelming majority of Zonians. Cramped and huddled into fortified settlements performing whatever labors their lord commands them. Whether it be herding stubborn Malkbeasts or spending long shifts in their lord's coal mine. It is the lot in life for most Zonians to obediently endure their labors for the privilege of a roof over their head, a bunk to sleep on, and semi-regular rations of synthetic bread. All courtesy of their generous lords.
The Unbound
Unlike the trodden, unbound are free Zonians who may come and go from settlements at will. Huge armed caravans are the lifeblood of Zonian society. Traders, artisans, amateur barber-surgeons, even entertainers such as acrobats and storytellers can be found in the caravans. The routes between major settlements are frequently cleansed of hostile wildlife and bandits. While not as dangerous as a sifter's life, the wilderness always holds surprises.
Nobility
What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine too. Every major settlement on Zonia is controlled by a powerful noble family, oftentimes surrounded by ring of lesser settlements ruled by cadet branches founded by second and third sons. Noble families assume total control of a settlement, all of its surrounding lands, all of its resources, and all of its bound residents. With access to a vast array of pre-Doom technology and immense wealth, nobles can afford to live in relative safety and comfort. Many in the nobility boast cybernetic implants from the Data Guilds or bio-enhancements from the Order of Fleshweavers. The richest families boast semi-sentient AI servants in their palaces. The greatest threat to a noble's life isn't a wilderness dread beast or a ration cut, but one's jealous neighbors, one's brothers, one's sisters, one's children. Only an utter fool of a lord would eat or drink anything he hadn't witnessed his food taster sample first.
Data Guilds
Data Guilds are independent organizations, often sponsored by noble families, to repair and maintain pre-Doom tech. Simple technology such as farm equipment and coal generators are produced and maintained by unbound tradesmen. Data Guilds work with the most advanced technology such as cybernetics, energy weapons, medical implants, and especially Artificial Intelligence constructs. There are no means to produce new technology of these kinds from scratch. Yet there are still salvageable bits of tech hidden in the vast wilderness. Any kind of salvagable advanced technology from the past is a coveted treasure to be repaired by any means. It is every guild's ultimate dream to restore a fully functional Sentient AI construct. Shards of AI constructs have been found, but their minds are incomplete, useful to only perform specific tasks. Yet even in these they excel. Settlements with shard AI advisor constructs are notably more prosperous and powerful than those without. A complete AI, however, would be god-like, its owner: unstoppable.
The Esoteric Order of Fleshweavers
With scalpel and syringe the fleshweavers mold many wonderful creations. Only they know the secrets of the Star's blood. Only they possess the psycho-genetic mastery to combine the Star's bounties with living flesh. Their skills are jealously guarded secrets. Those blessed by the Star's blood become something other than human, yet none can deny their usefulness.
The Pious
The Black Star sees all. It judges us every day and weighs our sins. Listen. Obey. Repent. Cults and religious movements are common on Zonia. There is no uniform church which lays claim to every settlement, and even settlements which ostentatiously follow the same cult may differ in their exact beliefs. Superstition abounds in every strata of Zonian society but especially among the trodden. It's not uncommon to see small shrines in the trodden slums with offerings to local spirits for safety and deliverance. Preachers and priests often travel with the caravans looking for converts. Religious fervor and toleration vary widely settlement to settlement. Some regions have their own official churches which ruthlessly punish any outside beliefs encroaching upon their territory. Others tolerate outsiders as long they don't challenge social order. Some worship the Black Star as a vengeful god. Some believe they may rid themselves of the Black Star and return to the times of plenty once they purge the world of sinners.
 
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