I figured they'd be one-use, really, but wanted to be sure; the 'Everlasting Heat Pipe' was what puzzled me. I presume the warding that keeps the ESI and Boiler Wand cool is what keeps their contents hot, as well, but does the EHP gradually 'run down' as it bleeds off heat? Go to Comment
Depends on your setting. The armor itself wouldn't have any such effect, I'd say, unless it'd been enchanted that way or had enough importance to the deceased for their ghost to have an echo of it. This isn't really a magical armor; the properties are all side effects of the bone, the daemon realm, or the knowledge of how much power it takes to defeat a proper daemon and rip the creature's bones out. Go to Comment
Well, you could, but I wanted this to basically be a thing where the major value of it was psychological. If it were me, it'd be no more likely to stop you from walking into a holy place or being touched by divine magic than wearing any other bones as armor.
And yes, being the original creator and wearer of such a suit of armor is a sign of impressive might; unfortunately, they can also be inherited and stolen the same as any other armor, so the owner might not live up to the reputation. I imagine a few suits might be laying around Kuramen from back during the mythic age, but you don't get heroes and villains of that caliber anymore. Now it's pretty much normal folk in a dangerous world, without much of anyone who could take on a daemon. Personally, at least. But that's what thaumatechnological weaponry is for. I expect even a daemon might be a bit nonplussed if some madman with a Dirge Mace or a C-47 came at it. Go to Comment
Depends on the world, more than anything else. The armor already carries the psychic miasma of the daemon realms, so daemon-slayers would tend to be ill-trusted anyhow; powerful enough to kill a daemon, but shrouded in this psychic veil of hate and despair. Would you trust someone like that, really? Adventurers already tend to be the kind of filthy, greedy tomb robbers who'll do just about anything, and you don't need whispers of daemonic collaboration to make someone who wears their bones reviled and distrusted. Go to Comment
This is true - but then in the heroic age you'd have a party of Heroes facing the daemon down. In the steampunk age, you've got guard regiments all armed with the most potent thaumatechnological weapons they can muster to deal with even one of the creatures. There will be significant casualties, but if you can field enough soldiers with even a bit of firepower, they'll wear it down until it retreats or is slain. Thaumatechnologically equipped soldiers, thaumaturges each fielding their specialties, and even a daemon is likely to notice when a cannon shell etched with puissant runes slams into it from a steam-tank.
So yes, it wouldn't make it a field day; one man would likely be akin to a flea with a nastily sharp bite, but more like it's an organized army of fleas all leaping and biting together. Enough to certainly give the creature pause. Go to Comment
One thing I appreciated from the previous editions of D&D was the demon/daemon/devil division. Demons were creatures of raw emotion; passionate evil, destruction with a focus. Devils were methodical evil; lawyers and bargainers, planning to dominate the world, one soul at a time, by the plan. Daemons... Daemons were essential evil, amoral and uncaring. They always struck me as the 'evil' most likely to mirror the dark side of sapience - the most distilled and pure form of evil. A devil can be outwitted, a demon stymied by presenting it something it can't destroy. A daemon can't; if you outwit it, it has another plan - even if that plan is screaming in rage and rendering you limb from limb. If you overpower it, it has allies on retainer to swoop in and rescue it. To defeat a daemon takes much more than a demon or devil requires.
And so daemonbone mail is rare, and a thing that frightens even the most jaded daemon when they meet someone wearing it; there is one of their kin, who was overcome. What kind of unimaginable cunning and power mus Go to Comment
Yes. And with the way that magical energy is of divine source in Kuramen, Siren and I had an amusing bit of conversation; if you overload it, the contraption starts to hum, and if a really potent energy source shows up - like, say, a Small God - it'll just explode.
It resulted in Siren's comment: "I'm now picturing some madman trying to make a religious experience out of an exploding Geiger counter, thanks."
Smoke detector, barometer, Geiger counter... Whatever you want to liken it to, it's one of those ubiquitous items that just make sense, and seem like they have to show up in some form eventually. If you can't measure the energy, you can't try to figure out what level of it is unsafe to be near. Go to Comment
There should be more things like this, for any setting. I'm currently drawing a blank on possible further bits for steampunk, but Pieh's ESI seems like a good basis for that sort of thing.
I liked Cheka's idea of one of these on the C-47, as an early-warning device for potential misfires. Maybe you could use them as bombs if the enemy relies really heavily on magic, enough to make them explode. Go to Comment
Yes, it definitely could. You might even use it to make miniature versions of it that can be worn as rings, or mix the two together and have the Mirichromite be something of an early-warning portion, if it's more sensitive than the rest of the aetherometer. Go to Comment
It's the typical Dead Zone in space, with a few specific little details to flesh it off that.
Given that it's apparently based off of Firefly, I'll leave my nitpicks about the veracity of it aside; video media producers have never been particularly good about paying attention to that kind of detail because the majority of the audience will be at least as clueless. Go to Comment
I dearly love the notion of these vermin. They're gremlins, adapted to thaumatechnology; perhaps in the quiet hours when the machinery isn't doing as much, you can hear the infestation as an occasional faint cackling, whistling sound, a cross between the sound of a fire and of the radio waves of the aurora.
One possible explanation for them that I could think of would be a kind of spontaneous generation; in the highly charged environment of a thaumatechnological engine, the concentration of energies might be enough to coalesce into a kind of lifeform, which would serve to explain why they're so attracted to machinery and why, outside that environment, they're rendered helpless. Go to Comment
Steampunk's trademark is the goggles, really. This is a logical progression for thaumatechnology. Really, Ouro's commentary on the aether in his sub about how Locastus's power sigils work is what inspired this the most. Go to Comment
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...