Carry-All's are the go to military transports in the Cosmic Era
The Ark Class ship formed part of the three-fold survival plan of the wealthy and powerful of the Petroleum Age. The other two legs of the plan were the arcologies, and space habitats.
The great magics of the past have become the great cars of the present.
Seven trains that the PCs might one day need to travel openly on, sneak onto, wreck or rob,
Breakdown of large civilian craft in the Cosmic Era
Aerospace Capitol Ships of the Atlantic Federation
Patrol Pods are aerial scouting vehicles that share similarities to helicopters and motorcycles.
There are a myriad of trains that run on the ley lines all through Vallermoore, delivering passengers and goods to their destinations, but they all have to give way by Law when the Royal War Train comes through.
A mail order tank, interstellar war, the engines of galactic commerce and nostalgia.
The ultra minimalism mech, for the common consumer
A joint French-Canadian company, Chalopin-Barkin of Mars is one of the pre-eminent manufacturers of space mining equipment and exotic vehicles.
Also known as hover cycles, HBs, Tin cans, tin coffins, and smear-bikes, the military hover bike is a common vehicle in many arsenals and motorpools
In the Petroleum Era, it was considered more uncommon for a family to not own a personal automobile, and in some areas, aircraft were as numerous as automobiles. In the years that followed transportation demands and needs changed, as did the vehicles that did the work.
Originally designed as a Medevac transport, the Whippoorwill is now iconic of the Atlantic Federation
The blisteringly fast race cars of the future
For the explorer at heart; an item to ease passage through any medium.
The blast of charged particles tore into one of the entrenched tanks, then from the 'Mech's other barrel-arm into its mate emerging from behind a corner.
Commander Ratzelle had to admit - letting the rookie ride in the Warhammer was not such a bad choice after all; indeed was he a crack shot.
"Ha! There it goes, blown into pieces! We'll never see their sorry asses again!"
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, greenhorn" the lance leader replied. "Get ready for clean-up! We have to root them out by nightfall!"
I've seen a lot of things in my time lad, six legged mechs, tanks with arms, jets that turn into mechs, but I've never seen anything like that.
"Life, what is it but a dream?" - Lewis Carroll
Some bags have more "extra" than others.
Unpowered and unmanned, the gliders provide a graceful and silent means for delivering death. Once again the engineers found that you didn't need to reinvent the wheel. . .
The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.
The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.
The forest of flesh is waking up, and it is so very hungry.