In a binary star system circled by four dead, scared planets, a shell of asteroids, and one of the largest intrastellar dust clouds on this side of the quadrant the Silvers are one of the strangest and most enigmatic groups not quite known. Their two giant, red, dying suns leave the system cold and foreboding. They accept no strangers, much to the chastisement of those miners lusting after the rich deposits that span the system. Those few who ignore the shrieking klaxons of the warning beacons meet sleek, silver ships, and then; Oblivion.
Of the little known about this reclusive group a few details are assured, they were founded by some insanely rich (and perhaps insane) personage in ages long past, their ships are feared and envied by nearly every spacer alive, and they are the best mercenaries money can buy, provided you can actually afford them.
Gene-engineered for deep-space, the Salvorathan resemble nothing quite so much as the legendary ‘dwarf’.
The Handlers and the Abszurl are symbiotic subcultures, products of human society’s expansion into the stars.
These are the worlds and planets encountered by daring space explorers.
Ships, that have character, are the best means to get to the stars.
Tell me, who wouldn’t want to see the stars? But laws of physics, as we know them, seem to put undesired constraints on extensive traveling through space. Can’t we just get around them? Seriously: how could a Faster-Than-Light drive work?
The party comes across a nice hermit in the woods. He gives them food and lodging for the night. They awaken to his terrified screams. "East! It's east! Stop it! It'll kill us all!" The poor horror-stricken hermit dies thrashing in agony, one boney arm outstretched, his finger pointing to the east.