Difference between revisions of "Secret GM Info for Robert"
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| − | + | ==For 11/22/06== | |
The swamp to the west of miragliano smells horrible, but also familiar. It reminds you of a bad dream, the kind where you're discovered doing something you shouldn't, and you know your father is going to punish you. | The swamp to the west of miragliano smells horrible, but also familiar. It reminds you of a bad dream, the kind where you're discovered doing something you shouldn't, and you know your father is going to punish you. | ||
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| + | ==For 12/1/06== | ||
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| + | You have that dream again. You're in a cavernous room, so huge you can't see the cieling. The air is thicker this time, greasy and stale. The machine is in front of you again, and it's still moving, the pistons banging away and smoke belching out of innumerable pipes, but it's moving slower, it seems. You're not sure why it's there; it doesn't appear to be producing anything, though even so, for some reason you're glad it's working. | ||
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| + | You walk around to the other side of the machine, and you see a line of people; poor people, miserable people, mutants, heretics, all. They're filing into a door in the side of the gigantic machine, through which you can see nothing but fire and death. | ||
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| + | You follow the line of people; it leads out of the gigantic machine room, into a longhall that seems small in comparison. There's a throne at the head of this room, it looks familiar. It's empty, and a large hammer rests against it. | ||
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| + | The line leads out through the front door of this hall, you know the Empire lies out there. You look again at the people as they file by, and your eyes fall on somebody familiar: You. | ||
Latest revision as of 14:09, 29 November 2006
For 11/22/06
The swamp to the west of miragliano smells horrible, but also familiar. It reminds you of a bad dream, the kind where you're discovered doing something you shouldn't, and you know your father is going to punish you.
For 12/1/06
You have that dream again. You're in a cavernous room, so huge you can't see the cieling. The air is thicker this time, greasy and stale. The machine is in front of you again, and it's still moving, the pistons banging away and smoke belching out of innumerable pipes, but it's moving slower, it seems. You're not sure why it's there; it doesn't appear to be producing anything, though even so, for some reason you're glad it's working.
You walk around to the other side of the machine, and you see a line of people; poor people, miserable people, mutants, heretics, all. They're filing into a door in the side of the gigantic machine, through which you can see nothing but fire and death.
You follow the line of people; it leads out of the gigantic machine room, into a longhall that seems small in comparison. There's a throne at the head of this room, it looks familiar. It's empty, and a large hammer rests against it.
The line leads out through the front door of this hall, you know the Empire lies out there. You look again at the people as they file by, and your eyes fall on somebody familiar: You.
