The Starcatcher Chronicles

Salix Babylonika

Long ago, it is said, an age of ages ago, there were no gods, and there was no magic. Only Man. Even without the guidance of gods, or the luxury of magic, Man is said to have grown, to have innovated, and prospered. This was the Golden Age, where Man stood on its own strengths alone, looked upon its work, and took pride in its majesty, knowing it had given the work life all its own. It is said Man could heal any disease, stop any catastrophe, and slay any foe. 

Soon, there were troubles. Man began to fight amongst itself, it is said, and turn its creations on itself. Man took its third, deadliest ability, and stabbed itself in the heart. It is said that this is when the Golden Age ended. With a blast of impossible force, magic was born. Man used the magic, it is said, to escape this earth, leaving only a few of itself behind, inheritors of a wretched scape of despair. These Inheritors kept on, barely clinging to life through a brutality unthinkable, until one day, Those Who Left began to shower the Inheritors with a strange gift, made gods by their ascent. They rained stars upon the earth, for the Inheritors to harvest, and shape into new tools, so that one day they could join Those Who Left in the brass heavens they had constructed for themselves. Those who would be tasked with the harvesting of these fallen stars would become known as Starcatchers.

You are one such Starcatcher.

Beneath the brass sky, in a moment of rare daylight, you press on. It has been some months since you last got work, but not long ago you saw the unmistakable green gleam of a star shooting through the sky, and landing not far off. If you could get some Starmetal, surely your welcome at the nearest town would be secured.

What is your name, Starcatcher?

Yarrun XIX

Nurraran

Salix Babylonika

Nurraran is what you're called.

Your father told you it was his father's name, but you've never met your grandfather, so it's hard to be sure. It would not be the first thing your father was untruthful about.

You hear a strange noise, there's enough bush cover around here that something could be hiding nearby. Your grip tightens on your weapon, what is it?

Yarrun XIX

An innocent.

A pike

Salix Babylonika

You pull your pike up in one hand, and your shield in the other. Your pike is a deep green, as most weapons composed of starmetal are. It was awarded to you for outstanding service as a soldier of Asridge, many years ago. Your shield is a simple iron parma, and you've replaced it many times throughout your life.

Fighting in single combat with a pike requires great skill, as it's a weapon for battalions of soldiers first and foremost. Still, you're one of the best, and had you not such a distaste for command, you'd likely have ascended to the rank of Captain in the Asridger army before the barony fell.

Your recollection is broken as the rustling in the nearby bushes turns out to be a fat rabbit. It hops off before you can react. Paranoia is a well-bred trait in these times.

Ahead, in the distance but closing fast, are the mountains. You've crossed The Deadlands to get here, and your journey is finally nearing its end. Unfortunately, so is daylight. You could either soldier on or set up camp for the night. Setting up camp is safer, of course--gods know what you could encounter out here in unfamiliar territory at night--but it might mean someone gets to the star before you.

Yarrun XIX

Onwards! For glory!

Salix Babylonika

You press on, you can't afford to let someone get to that star before you.

For several hours, your decision proves uneventful, and soon, on the side of a mountain, you spot the fallen star. It is at that moment that you hear a low growl, you know from experience that this is nothing as benign as a wolf.

Act.

Yarrun XIX

Stab the pike in the direction where the growl is coming from

Yarrun XIX

...