This is awesome. Indentured slaves, made to order, wedged between robot and man. And the idea of talking to a branded Coca-Cola man is pretty good, too. Great flavor. You've left me to speculate on their psychology, though. (What do they do for fun?)
A couple of thoughts. If they all must be paid enough to have a fair chance of buying off their contracts, the 4yr synths must make a good amount more than the 40yr synths (10x the discretionary income).
Second, the Dolly Effect sounds like the short lifespans that somatic cell clones have. These are caused by epigenetic effects (activating/inactivated 'tags' on the genes) and telomere shortening. I can imagine both of those problems being solved in my lifetime (well, maybe not dynamic epigentic imprinting), but definitely before we have terraformed planets hundreds of years in the future. If you want something to kill your synths with, I'd go with cancer. Overactive telomerase is how cancer cells don't die of old age, and nearly everything that speeds up aging/growth can be teratogenic. There's a lot of thought that we evolved old age as a defense against cancer, actually (our own form of planned obsolescence). So yeah, cancer.
At the culmination of a great quest bestowed by Gerat Deity to find the "roots of stones," the players discovered a pile of rocks that recited cheerleader-type chants ("G-R-A-N-I-T-E! Granite, granite, allllll the WAY, HEY!").
The GM is said to have barely survived the actualy melee that occured after. Go to Comment
Dust Bunnies - small magical creatures that inhabit dark places (dungeons, behind the chamberpot, under the bed, etc.). They survive by eating dirt. When they get too large, they split into two or more smaller bunnies. If struck, they explode into a cloud that causes all nearby to sneeze uncontrollably.
I've had also had Spitting Images, Roaring Acclaims, and even Rogue Waves (water elemental).
*Plotti McPlothoek:* grizzled old hook-handed (x2) pirate always willing to give the PCs quest-starting info for the cost of a drink. Strangely appears in every inn or tavern the adventurers happen to enter as if all part of a cosmic plan scribed by a very uncreative and time-pressed god.
*the party, having lost the trail of the bandit lord Gravus, enters a way station in an ice-choked and windswept mountain pass*
"Holy sh*t. Wouldn't you know it. There's Plotti McPlothoek. Plotti you ol' seadog, what brings you here?"
"Yarr, me vessel was blown of course and I set in here for repairs."
"Blown of course. That's for sure. That's some hell of a course error that put you here... in the mountains."
"Well, err... the wind... umm... maps..."
"Guys just let it go otherwise Yorkus will go and sulk in the bathroom until we leave." Go to Comment