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It is pretty.
Yes it is. A man could get lost in himself there.
Is that a bad thing?
Depends on the man.
Everytime you look at something in The City, there is something going on behind it. It is a moment caught in the tangles of time of some other persons life. It is those little moments that make The City seem so alive.
The Earth-That-Was got used up.
The folk that could made for the sky, and made themselves a new home out here. They made a dozen worlds and all their moons just like Earth, but it weren’t all roses and sunshine.
The government, in their vast and mighty wisdom, made the worlds of the Core great havens of culture, medicine, and trade, then dumped everyone else out on the rim with nothing but forty acres and a donkey, and expected them to be happy about it. Eventually, they decided even that was too much, and took back the one thing they’d let the Rimworlders have - their independence.
So naturally, there was a War. The people who just wanted to be left alone, versus the big bosses who wanted to control everything. The bosses won, of course; now everyone’s part of the Alliance and supposed to love, honor, and obey them, ‘til death do us part.
But that was six years and a few million lives ago. Purple or brown, we’re all just folk now. Out here on the Rim, we just do what we have to, take what we can, and thank Whoever every time a new day sees us still flying.
Except for the few of us they took everything from, whose daily prayer is just for a chance to get some of it back.
We’ll fly as long as we have to, but we’re looking for a place to land.
On their beacon, such that it was, we came in from the east, low across the wet and mud. When you get close to the Pielshome Field, the beacon is pretty useless. Visibility was good and I saw the oil lamps that lit the green circle we had been assigned by the controller. As soft as a leaf, I sat us down. A perfect landing graced with a perfect sunset filling our windscreen. The sun set rose, as the sinking began. The paving bricks they use to line the landing circles they only hold so much weight. The mud is everywhere here.
As the Earth That Was was being "used up", the Dysporia began. Any Rocky World in the Lifeband were made to be habitable by people. This produced a huge number of barely habitable planets, most of which are out on the frontier.
Madeira is not one of these world. It is a rich and lush world where the fine arts of wine making have been reborn, along with a culture of civility and honor.
All through the Alliance there are those that follow the Shepherds of The Book. The Book is old and came from many Great Teachers of the Past that walked The Earth that Was. These folks have followed a Great Shepherd into the Desert that is The Rim and have been given the Promised Land.
Nob was a fairly developed colony world. It had a few cities, some manufacturing, and something that passed as a space port. Then a wonderful disaster showered riches and power upon it.
I was watching one of those famous sunsets while I was waiting for the Mule to come back. I saw the spot in the sun. I thought it was a bug. My gut knew what it was. I was running for the cockpit before it registered in my brain. It was time to get off this planet, as the soil was about to run red with blood.
Hot Dang, we are going to LaVenda!
Flying into Lewiston, once you get low enough, is difficult, captain. There is constant wind sheer through the valleys. You have to fly careful, as the wind will slam you into a mountain side faster than a card player tossing in a bad hand. Of course the town you want to get to, Porsen, is the very worse. So best we land in Ramsy territory on the Blue Diamond Lake there, and take the mule up the "road" to Porsen. I just hope the Ramsy and the Regina towns arent feuding any more. I hate dodging bullets that arent even meant for me.
In a universe always in need of habitable planets, Partas II had a good location, good resources, and the people about it had a "need". It just had one problem. It wasn’t generally habitable. A century ago, the Great Project was undertaken. A century from now, it will be complete. People will stand unaided upon its surface.
As long as nothing goes wrong.
While every ship has antigravity engines in this day and age, leaving a full gee planet can take most smaller ships quite a while. The presence of numerous anti-gravity fields can cause interference and fluxation in power broadcast, some comm channels and of course, cause "traffic control issues" as they are flying out. There is a better, safer way to launch them.
Maxwell Cyler, Developer, to the Congessional Areospace Committee
These are minor things that can be dropped in anywhere to add "narrative flavor", to make it more than just another road, field, forest or beach.
"It is amazing to me how this one little stretch of water has changed the course of history," History of The New Country by Collen D’Madden Blue Diamond Press
In The Wastes the prospectors look for valuable substances. When they need some respite, they look for Deadman’s Rock.
The Future is for sale.
The Wastes can be beautiful. Here the land is toxic: slowly corrosive to the touch, causing illness and death with prolonged contact. The bubbling sulfur and ectomass pools (HellPits too) are especially lovely, if you have the right aesthetic. The soil is soft and any heavy object slowly sinks. If it was not for the special resources here (dyes, alchemical elements, resins, Grimrock, Verner glands, etc), it would be a place that no one would come.
As part of The Pact that ended the Six Stars Demon Wars, various places were given over to the Dark Kind. This is their neighborhood in the city.
"You head down this back alley, and check that last door on the left. If it opens for you, you are in, one of the gang. If not, well you are not ready for the place yet. If you can’t see that door on the left, you will never be one of us. " Silverwind, aka Alex O’Tor
To be “On the road to Shambala” is a metaphor for seeking redemption, purification of spirit, and seeking The Great Divine. It is found in teachings of several faiths of The Great Divine and in the writings of many prophets and philosophers. It is not just a metaphor. There truly is a road to Shambala.