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. . .
A mysterious legacy of a hard-working and much-loved mariner and welder.
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...