pawnstorm | intro ♚ may

WELCOME TO Caissa

We’ve all had those dreams: you wake up on a table, to blurry, ominous images and the certainty that you are absolutely buck-naked in a room full of strangers. This is not quite it.

Instead, you come awake to the sun on your face. The soft burble of water nearby. The hustle and bustle of a busy street and the faint, fortifying smell of bread. You open your eyes and there’s no one there at your bedside, but there is what appears to be the end of the world happening just beyond your window.

There’s a crack in the world across the sky, the “sun” is the totally unnatural light spilling from that crack straight into your eyes, and someone’s left a neatly pressed and folded uniform at the foot of the bed that isn’t yours. Somewhere in the room, there’s a strange clatter like beads, the click of claws on the floor.

Something’s in here with you.

Also, you are naked.

WARNING: Contains death and related graphic descriptions.

ONE ♟ P.S. I Love You

It's a perfectly ordinary morning in Caissa. Enprise’s two suns peer over the horizon and smack into your face through the large bay window. At half past six in the morning, the floor nanny’s built-in alarm goes off and plays Prime Minister Teddy’s hit song Love Me Like Your Doughnuts. Once everyone in their rooms is up and awake, this mechanical pigeon announces that letters and small packages have been delivered to every Hero’s personal box in the mailroom. Yes, even you, Naked Newcomer! These letters are from the Heroes’ many fans all over Blanc. No matter who you are, there are small tokens of appreciation attached to the letters: these may include candies shaped like stars, chocolates with a surprise gooey center, or even a can of rainbow beans for those not fond of sweets.

Letters for veteran Heroes are full of praise and gratitude for the success of the naval battle at Graupera. New Heroes receive mail that express support towards their future endeavors as the Blanc military’s most formidable task force. That’s not all the letters contain, however; the citizens also plead for our Heroes’ help with new problems that have arisen in the fields surrounding Caissa. However, the details the letters provide are scant and vague. The fans seem more concerned with recent damage caused by some unknown entity. There is a 15-page narrative of how a man built this beautiful house for his lovely, sweet wife who did nothing wrong, but nothing about why the house is in shambles now. A market on the outskirts of Caissa lost 30,000 colle’s worth of food, but the writer neglects to explain what happened to the food. All you know is that this person stayed up all week taking inventory and now it has gone to waste.

Sharing letters with each other might give you a clue on where to start your investigations and figure out which areas were hit the hardest. Or you can talk about how cute your adoring fans are. One way or another, you’ll have to get tongues wagging to make any progress. Unfortunately, Blanc isn’t going to save itself and from the sound of it, this problem is bigger than expected...

TWO ♟ Distant Howling

After pooling information, the new objective is clear: to investigate the damages. The vast, vibrant fields around Caissa seem a good place to start. They are mostly empty, but here or there you will see some people from nearby smaller villages and farms. The villagers will admit to having seen threatening shadows move over the fields and having heard harsh, high-pitched howling. They are willing to point Heroes toward possible shadow sightings, but are otherwise reluctant to act as guides. They are simple townsfolk who wish to return to their quiet lifestyle.

You may come up with small settlements (e.g. villages, farms, inns, taverns, etc.) as they are considered minor locations.

Heroes will soon discover that some of the smaller villages have been burned down entirely. The smell of ash and charred wood is thick in the air, though some buildings are also smashed as as though by something large and heavy. Nearby trees which haven’t been uprooted or knocked over are scorched and their blackened branches crackle ominously in the breeze. There are large marks dug deep into the ground and—is that a cow? Heroes will find tagged fruit cows scattered everywhere, scared, confused and mooing sadly next to their dead fruit cow friends. Fruit cows are usually found in Gresser, how strange...

A couple of days’ worth of exploration may help you realize that whatever is terrorizing Blanc doesn’t only devour hapless animals. While trying to navigate the numerous backcountry roads and farmlands, Heroes may stumble upon some gruesome clues: a charred limb—or what’s left of it; teeth, half-eaten ribcages, melted jewelry, and other smaller bits; the less fortunate may actually trip over a corpse staring unseeingly into the sky. It has been gutted, half-roasted, and seems to have lain in the sun for some time; and if someone is brave enough to roll the body onto its stomach, they may discover claw marks on its back. The victim must have tried to flee from something.

The amount of damage grows the more our Heroes travel south. What could be awaiting them?

THREE ♟ Breath of Fire

Let’s put the clues together. Fire? Check. Claw marks? Check. Large shadows seemingly from something flying overhead? Check and check. Congratulations, Blanc, you are suffering from a dragon plague.

It will take several days for the Heroes to locate the source of the rumors. The dragons seem to have taken up residence in the hilly area near Caissa, where the slopes grow steeper and then drop suddenly off into cliffs. The beasts are quite willing to greet guests warmly: there’s nothing like a burst of dragonfire and a deafening screech to brighten your day.

The only warning you’ll get before they launch themselves into the air and at Heroes is the sound of trees bursting beneath their claws. Beware: a single swipe can cause some serious damage and their fire breath, fast, frequent and garnished with the occasional, boiling hot drop of saliva, is nothing you want to stick around for. The dragons cannot be reasoned with, nor can they be tamed. A queen’s Charm magic WILL NOT work. Should someone try and reach out with their senses to see if the dragons are somehow hurting, they will only feel something alien and terrible.

Heroes aren't the only ones suffering under the dragons’ claws, unfortunately. Scattered around the area are a few small and isolated farms, and the animals and the farmers are easy prey and unlikely to flee in time. Heroes will want to intervene before the dragons can devour and destroy. If they are too late, they will need to provide support. Put out fires, heal the injured, catch panicked cows before they become pot roast! The dragons might be coming around for another attack, so it would be a good time to test barriers and other damage control skills.

To make matters worse, Blanc’s weather has decided that now is the perfect time for a hailstorm. It’s barely anything at first, beginning with small kernels the size of corn here and there to wet the grass and ruin your footing. Then it becomes much larger and greater in number. Dragons are not exempt from this hailhole: large enough pieces may rip holes in their wings! Heroes may want to use this to their advantage; additionally, casting ice and wind spells will suddenly become a lot easier, and the dragons will struggle to navigate in the stormy weather, forcing them to land more often. Better get up on that dragon’s back!

In the end, survivors of the dragon horde let out one last, collective shriek before they turn southward. The battle has been won, but the war is just beginning: the dragons have only been chased away. Their nest seems to be elsewhere and that is a worrying prospect. Dragons aren’t native to Blanc, which can only mean one thing…

Meanwhile, a new job opening has appeared at Gresser. At least you finally know what to do with all those fruit cows.

INFO ♟ Welcome!

Welcome to Crosscheck's May intro log! For any further questions, please see the FAQ or reach us at the Contact Us page. Have fun!

Also by request, here are some Player Endorsements that may be of interest!

Heaven's Feel: Looking for something else to do? In the mood for more light-hearted mingling? Check out Heaven’s Feel, Caissa’s first heroic matchmaking service! Opening week is going on now.

Training Notice: This training notice is located on the bulletin board. You might want to take a look.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

While Potemkin is a big obstacle, the only way to bump into him is if you were, well, blind.

Not that Potemkin is thinking that, he's too immediate aghast at hitting someone. In contrast her appearance brings no reaction from him; surprisingly this would be the second mechanical(-ish) woman he's met in Blanc.

"I'm sorry! I'll try to make ammends at once. Is there someone to go to for repairs?"

Jeez-o-Pete! Peacock hadn't run into that big of an obstacle since the last time she saw Ben! Sure, she's hardy, so it didn't hurt her, but it still was enough for her to scowl at Potemkin and rub at her shoulder. She quickly feels out the knocked-out pipe, adjusting it with difficulty back towards its proper destination.

"Pipe down, ya big lug! It ain't nothin' I can't handle." Well, she says that, but the way her tongue slips out of her mouth in concentration as she wiggles the stubborn tube says otherwise. It doesn't help that small puffs of steam are churning out of the affected shoulder regularly.

"Just gimme a-- minute an' I'll be--" Snap. A cloud of steam releases as Patricia sputters out from the area of effect and wipes her hand through the air to dispel it. Now with just a broken copper pipe, the girl raises it up proudly, "See? Outta sight, outta mind!" She seems cheery enough, before her nose scrunches at Potemkin himself, "But next time, I ain't gonna go easy on ya. Watch where yer goin' next time, see?"

This mechanical woman might be more assertive than Aigis, but Potemkin is not convinced that she's more mature. He suspects that any body language will be lost on her, but although his hands are thrown up in alarm, he gives a questioning head-tilt.

"Do you have expertise in your own construction?" He's not entirely sure how this works.

The question does indeed raise the idea that she might have just caused some severe problems down the line for her poor mistreated arm, but... Well, she can't just straight-up admit that! Besides, she knew her previous limbs well enough; if these were any similar, it'd take a lot more to take them out of commission.

"Yeah, yeah! Quit yer worryin'!" She blows his concerns off immediately, then adopts a cutesy smile as she waves her arms out proudly, signalling to herself. "Don'tcha think if anyone knew my arms, it'd be me? Bettah than some know-nothin' quack if ya ask me."

"I suppose that makes sense..." he says reluctantly. For an apologetic man, he's being very insistent on not just letting her go.

"There are some people I consider knowledgeable, but many of us have been confused by the blend of technology and magic that's commonplace here. A local expert might be lost in return."

"What!?" Peacock immediately responds with notable hostility in her voice. The poor guy's just trying to help, but the rowdy cyborg is quick to take any of his concern as an insult to her character or knowledge. "You sayin' I don't know my own limbs?" Well, that's a fair concern since... she obviously doesn't. But! She's going to say she does to avoid looking the fool here.

"I ain't trustin' some witch doctah with my arms, ya hear? Don't mattah if its magic or no, I know how these things tick, see?"

By this point Potemkin is completely calmed down. There's a problem to be addressed, and the girl's temporary orneriness doesn't even register as an obstacle to him.

"That's just how things work here. Whether you like it or not, even things that were familiar, very familiar to you, now have to be run through mana.

My own body didn't feel right for months," he says like he's giving her a little secret. He hopes that disclosing a personal experience will make her more comfortable with admitting things.

She'd continue to fault the guy and fight every inch of the conversation she could, but at this point, Peacock can't fault the stranger for being genuine, at least. Since antagonizing isn't going to net her any more fun, the cyborg's hands rest onto her hips with large arcs of her multi-segmented arms. She lets out a small huff, grinning to herself.

"Bah! I betcha I got this undah control, you'll see!" Opening one eye socket, the girl lets out a small chuckle, "So don't worry yer big ol' head. I'm a quick learnah!"

After a moment, Patricia tilts her head, moving her lips instinctively as if there were a cigar between them, moving the imaginary smoke from one side to the other. If he couldn't feel right for months, then perhaps he went through similar. Peacock decides to shoot the breeze just to see if he could be any help in adapting to this weird new world faster, "What sorta works you got, then? Can't really see fer myself, ya know."

At least she's talking to him now. He considers that a victory. He returns her conversational attitude, in his own restrained way.

"I don't have machinery in my body like you do. I simply did not feel as strong as I should have."

Really now? Guy's asking for a little much. Unless he really was that much stronger in his own world.

"But after a couple months, I woke up feeling like myself again, for the most part."

"Coupl'a months!?" Peacock repeats the time frame with an expression only properly described as 'completely disgusted'. She is anything but a patient girl, and the idea of feeling blind and gimped for months was the worst option possible.

With a low sigh, the redhead idly rolls her fingers, tapping them against her leather palm with a thoughtful turn of her head to the side. "N' that's just fer strength? So wit' these limbs..."

This was going to be a long ride, wasn't it?

Tilting her head back with a long groan, the cyborg makes her distaste painfully obvious. "Got any ideas t' make this not a complete trainwreck?"

"Meditation and self-reflection."

He says this so smoothly it couldn't possibly be anything other than sincere. To him, the period without his strength was an experience that forced him to reevaluate himself, to reconsider what he thought of definitively his and what could be changed for the sake of adaptation.

Little does he know that this is not the answer she probably wants to hear.

Meditation and self-reflection? As if someone could get more boring than just one or the other! This girl, the picture of impatience, has absolutely no time for something that introspective. Eugh! It almost puts a bad taste in her mouth, one obvious by how she shakes her head and grimaces.

"Got anything else, Gandhi? 'Cause I can't think a' anything I'd rathah do less!"

Her eyebrow quirks and she taps one foot impatiently to the floor. "I ain't got time for no shrink! Anythin' would be bettah!"

intro ♚ may

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