As your boat slices through the calm, cerulean waters, the silhouette of a new island emerges on the horizon. As you draw nearer, the distinct features of the landmass become clearer. You believe this is "Glacia's Embrace" from your map; an island like no other you've seen before.
The ocean air quickly turns from hot and humid to crisp and cold as you approach.
The island's shores are framed by smooth, pale-blue ice that gently kisses the water's edge. Towering spires of ice reach skyward, glistening in the sunlight like frozen sentinels. The island itself is a breathtaking expanse of frozen tundra, a serene landscape of snow-covered plains and craggy rock formations. The air is crisp and clear, carrying with it a sense of untouched purity.
As your boat glides into a natural harbor formed by the curving coastline, you notice the delicate artistry of ice formations that adorn the cliffs. The play of sunlight on the ice creates a mesmerizing dance of colors, as if the island is a canvas painted with the hues of a winter sunrise.
The Island map will go here. It doesn't need to be given to the players right away, or at all.
The island's unnatural cold gives you a feeling of both hope and fear. Barren, frozen lands, which must have once played host to a lush, green landscape, as evidenced by the frozen remains of vegitation and wildlife, stretch out endlessly in all directions.
Amidst the ice, you spy a strange sight. Underneath at least two feet of immaculately clear ice, a man stands, no shorter than 6'6", dressed in the most peculiar outfit.
His face is covered in a white cowl, with two dark holes for eyes and a slit for a mouth. His face, despite covered, still somehow manages to sit somewhere between a complete absence of emotion and the greatest depths of sadness you could comprehend. A small, flimsy looking helmet covers the crown of his head. Attached to the helmet, but also appearing to peek into the sides of the man's face covering, two spires of metal rise above, to hold what looks like a lantern.
On his chest, poking through his shirt, is a glass box, from which eminates a dim, yellow light. From this box, tubes stretch over his shoulders and disappear somewhere behind his back.
The rest of his body is covered in a silvery material, unlike anything you've ever seen before. Perhaps some highly advanced form of chainmain from before the war?
All over the body are irregular bulges with no discernable rhyme or reason.
The man's hands are the main giveaway that there is indeed a person inside this suit. Completely uncovered, they demonstrate the clear strength this man must have possessed. You never thought you'd notice how muscular someone's hands were, but the power he holds in his is enough to incite a small amount of fear in you.
The ice itself should be difficult to get through, as if enchanted to keep re-freezing itself. Because they might try any number of things, I won't specify DCs here, but make required rolls and/or effort very high.
If they do manage to get through: the fully augmented humanoid under the ice will awaken. He will be disorientated and ask about the planning council. He will tell the players that all citizens must report to the medical centre as soon as possible. It will not be overtly hostile, but it will not take kindly to the players not following orders. If they don't go immediately, it will perform an identity check. Unless the players have managed to turn up here with fake IDs from the city, they will be found to be outsiders and it will attack.
As you near the centre of the island, the winds pick up, blowing snow in a blizzard and obscuring your ability to see. Amidst the white clouds you spy giant black figures, tall monuments to the past, buildings that have withstood the ravages of this cold, unforgiving isle.
Drawing closer to them, you find the buildings to be collosal structures, towering constructs of dark brushed steel. Stepping into town, it appears the old magics of this place remain active as a large vault-style door slides open by its own accord, beckoning you to enter its walls.
If the players enter the building, it will be the first of the sub-locations available in the Frozen Town, the jailhouse.
Immediately inside the door sits a reception desk. Phosphorescent crystals line the ceiling, providing light to the room.
On the reception desk sits a Flyer from the Government.
Should the players attempt to enter the area containing the cells, they will find some bones in cells and a disembodied head of an fully converted humanoid.
Agents of evil are among us. Whispering in the shadows, these vile people attempt to finish what the war had started and bring an end to life in the Western Isles.
We have lost contact with the other islands and can only assume that they are lost. We will not fall.
Aelgen Fuchebeehrs has plunged the West under the ocean and his men are here, in subterfuge, to finish the job. We will not accept this. We can not accept this.
We must give our thanks to our glorious military, for protecting our island from all threats that come our way, but in most, we must thank those of the military who have volunteered for the enhancement project, allowing them to defend us against any threats.
We must give thanks to you, our citizens, for your continued cooperation with the military in these trying times.
Regretably, the forces of evil are relentless and without mercy. Threats of terror, destruction of land and plain murder run rampant, in spite of our tight security and powerful military.
As such, I must thank our citizens once again for your continued support of the military as security restrictions grow stricter.
Within the next two weeks, the number of checkpoints will have increased four-fold. A curfew of 18:00 will be put in place effective immediately. All citizens will be required to renew their identifications monthly, beginning at the end of this month.
Together, we will stamp out the evil that lies dormant among us and hides in the shadows. Until then, we thank you for your continued cooperation.
David Alcorn, Bohoori Great General.
War is all around. We'd been told by the news, by priests of Adu, by doomsday prophets: the end is coming. No one really believed it. No one could. But here it is, a war of spectacular proportion. Cities reduced to dust as magic indiscriminately sweeps and snuffs out any life it can find. People around are saying it's a new era so I'll date this journal assuming that's true. I'm lucky, I suppose, living up here on the outskirts of the Western Isles. Not exactly a prime target, especially here in Riverton. Even if our island is targetted, they're going to hit Eldmar or Glummlich first. Gives us a chance to run.
Even so, people are running already. Talk of the waters rising. We're quite far in-land so it won't be touching us for a while but I suppose I'd better get going as well.
I'll be honest, I've never really been a fan of Bohoori. Shocking, I know, for someone living in the Western Isles. I agree in principle, I think. A lot of their views end up being a little too extreme, though. It's always felt dangerous to me. Divinity is not a boat I'd want to rock.
All that being said, it is the Bohoori who are giving me a place to run to. Their "great general" David Alcorn has been preparing shelter for the inevitable end of the world up on the Murtaag glacier. Doesn't sound like the cushiest place to live but they claim to have somehow managed to get a farm going, despite the permafrost. Worst case scenario, I can always run off somewhere else, if there is somewhere else to run to.
So, today, Clara and I pack our bags. Tomorrow, we hop in a caravan headed up the mountain and find our new life up in the hills.
We've only been here a day and things are already a little sour. No one is happy to be here. It's cold, it's miserable, and the Bohoori want to run this like a military base. We're civilians, not soldiers, but everyone must play their part for the defense of the nation. Accomodation is dire. We've been given "habitation towers" to go into. Each one housing hundreds of people. Very uniform, very efficient, but without any joy or love in the design whatsoever. "Uncompromisingly practical" is how Clara put it.
The city is enormous as well. Easily capable of housing hundreds of thousands of people. Probably built with the entire population of the island in mind. I'm not too sure but I think it was only a few thousand who made it up here. Maybe ten thousand at a push. Walking around the empty streets, with each building monotone and brutal staring down at you... it's daunting. "Uncompromisingly practical". I think that really puts it best. We are here to survive, not to be happy while doing so.
In lighter news, I ran into an old friend of mine, Matt Krael. He's coincidentally on the same floor as Clara and I. Even more bad news from him, though. He's the sort to move around a lot, never stays tied down. Always been suspicious of the Bohoori too, and openly so. Anyway, he said that Satorian warships are flooding in from the east after the initial attacks. This might not be the end of the conflict and even living in these horrid conditions, we still may not be safe.
Got a visit from the man upstairs as well, Mr Jenkins he said his name was. He's sick and needed some things. The rationing is tight and I guess they aren't giving more to people with greater need. I gave him my rations of chicken soup and a few medical supplies that we brought up from home. I hope he's ok.
Martial law has been declared by that Alcorn fellow. We have a 9pm curfew and these Bohoori "monks" are out in force. Checkpoints all over the place, doing identity checks. Can't go far without your movements being recorded. I don't like it but Matt is enraged, saying someone should do something about it. These Bohoori folk, though... they scare me. Obviously I'd like to do something, but I don't think there's much I can do.
They're saying it's to pre-emptively keep unrest under control. The farm isn't producing as much food as they'd hoped so rationing is going to get tighter. What they're saying makes sense, but I can't help but feel we're being lied to.
Clara has been keeping to herself for the most part. Tucked away in her room. I think she's depressed and I don't blame her. She's surrounded by grey and unfeeling walls without anything to do. Just like all of us. The infrastructure for jobs is slowly being set up, but it feels like it isn't a priority for the Bohoori.
As for myself... I've been a bit shut in as well. Not that that's new for me. I've always liked my space and never had issue with pushing people away when I needed it. Still, I find that I tend to be a little rude about it sometimes. I think how I am is having an effect on Clara. I feel awful but I can't stop myself from pushing her away.
She's always been good to me in that way, though. Never judges me, never becomes impatient or frustrated that I push her away. I guess she understands me. She knows why I need it. Why I need my space and to be alone. Maybe she feels it too.
It's been a while since I last wrote in this journal. This place is so cold, so dismal, so... unfeeling. The world being in monotone makes the days slip into bland uniformity as well.
Today is the day that has broken the monotony, though. Finally, I've been assigned a job and my training begins today. This city is huge so we have these carriages to move people and stuff around, except they're entirely powered things, run by Brentley Stones. Still need a person to drive them, but no animal to physically move the thing. I'd seen a prototype of this kind of thing a few years back, but never thought I'd actually get to drive one. It's a complicated machine, but I think I'll get the hang of it. `
Clara was happy for me, although clearly envious. I really do think she's depressed, all cooped up in here. All she's doing is going through the motions. Staying alive for the sake of being alive. Living for another day just to be here to live for the next one. I hope she is assigned work soon.
Mr Jenkins got worse and was taken into the medical centre. He came back today with a device attached to him. Apparently he'd been having trouble breathing and they attached something to him to help. He seems a lot more spritely, even moreso than before he got sick. I feel good for the man. Maybe things are going to look up.
I've been seeing more and more people with bits added like Mr Jenkins. Lots of people are struggling with the cold and harsh conditions here. It makes me a little worried, though because Mr Jenkins has been having some trouble with his... whatever it is... chest box thing. It's working just fine, he can breathe and his blood is pumping (he told me today, they replaced his heart as well) but he's saying it just feels really unnatural, like his body doesn't want it there. I hope no one else has been feeling the same.
It's all a bit odd to me, though. It's like the same chest box can fix a lot of different things. Are they reaplacing all of people's organs or something? Maybe there's different kinds of them. I wish they'd let us know what's going on but everyone just gets bits and pieces of information. It's as if we're living our whole lives on a need-to-know basis. If it truly keeps us safe, I'm for it, but I have my doubts.
Matt's been going off the deep end. Ranting about how the control is unjustified. I keep telling him not to rock the boat. I'm worried he's going to do something stupid.
Clara's been a bit happier lately, I think. She's still longing to get an actual job but there's been talk of needing a workforce for energy production. She's hoping to get in on that.
I'm terrified. We've been told we're all getting these chest boxes. We don't get a choice. Some new tech has been developed and they can be used as an alternative to eating. I think I said before... we're here to survive, not be happy doing so. I've got my surgery in two days. Clara has hers today. A man is coming in to put what he calls a rejuvination station in our abode. We'll... use that instead of eating or drinking.
Matt punched the Bohoori man and was taken away. Not sure what will happen to him but the Bohoori are strict authoritarians. He will at least be imprisoned.
Clara has had her surgery. Apparently it's done entirely by a machine and she felt nothing. I feel a little less scared now, knowing she is all right. She's been told she'll only need to use the rejuvination station every few days, too. I don't know. It just sounds so unnatural. Maybe we just aren't meant to survive.
Mr Jenkins has been raving about how he hates it as well. He doesn't want everyone to have to get one. He even had to have his updated to work for this. I guess a lot of people did.
Clara is going to start work tomorrow. There's a big need for magical energy now that we've replced food with it. Everyone who was involved in agriculture is getting moved over to energy production. It doesn't sound too bad at least. Mostly just setting things up to capture the sunlight and turn it into magical energy for the brentley stones. I've transported a few of the sheets they use before. They're heavy as all hell to lift, but they should be working in teams.
Today's the day for my surgery. I'm definitely nervous but there haven't been any reports of it going wrong that I've heard of. Not that they'd tell us, anyway, but least no one nearby has mysteriously disappeared. We'll see what happens. I honestly can't think of anything else.
That has to have been the strangest experience of my entire life. I was brought over to the medical center, a big grey metal building indistinguishable from all of the other big grey metal buildings, and taken into a waiting room. Surrounded by people even more nervous that I was, I sat and waited for my name to be called. A Bohoori doctor stepped out and called my name.
"Laura Schleider"
It still rings in my ears as if it was the last time I'd have my humanity. Perhaps it was.
I thought I would just sit there frozen, but despite the fear, my legs just carried me. I stood up, walked forwards and followed the doctor into a dimly lit stairway and down we went.
Down one flight of stairs and we walked through a hallway. Left and right were rooms filled with patients, all of them with varying levels of augmentation. Most of them only had the chest boxes but there were a few with some other bits and pieces added.
There was one man I'll never forget.
He looked like he'd had most of his body replaced.
His chest box had pipes coming out of it, reaching over his shoulders to his back through these sort of... shoulder braces. He had more braces on his elbows, wrists, his knees and at the top of his silver coloured boots. It was like his insides had to be held together by all this stuff. He had on this helmet with a light on top of it and two more pipes coming out the sides. I don't know if I'm just nuts, but I could have sworn they were sticking into his skull through his ears. Couldn't really see though. The creepiest part of it was that his face was covered up. A white cloth had been pulled over his face. Black, dead cold eyes and a black hole for a mouth. His nose was pressing against the cloth and I could see it a little, so there was still something of a face under there but I don't think I want to know what it looked like if that horrifying visage was going to be nicer to look at. Other than that, the only clue there was even still a person under there was his hands. His fleshy hands poked out from the braces holding his sleeves in place. They remained motionless for the entire encounter.
The worst part of all was when the doctor checked in on him. The man just opened his mouth, didn't move his lips or actually talk, just mouth wide open and the sound of a monotone voice could be heard giving his reply.
Is this what we're all going to become? Is this was it will take for us to survive?
The doctor finished his questions and I was taken further down. We stepped into a large chamber and I laid down on an operating table. After a few seconds, the next thing I remember is waking up to the surgery being complete. I was taken to a room for monitoring, and then released after only about 30 minutes.
I've been given the most basic augmentation, is what they told me. Just a chest box with a brentley stone that can be recharged at the rejuvination station in my home. I'll no longer need to eat or drink and should no longer feel hunger or thirst. I still can eat and drink but food won't be produced so it won't matter until we can move somewhere other than this island. This will take some time to get used to.
I haven't written in this journal in quite a while because there hasn't been much to say. Life has slipped into a comfortable routine and everyone seems to just instinctively play their part. There was a bit of a revelation a few weeks ago that not everyone got the augmentation. The wealthy were kept exempt. Exactly where they're getting their food from I don't know, but I guess that's none of my business.
We've finally got a proper newspaper going around and it's drawing the community together. There's a lot of us here and there's always been too much conflicting information without sources going around. Hopefully the paper is accurate. It at least cites sources for everything it reports. Worryingly, though, it's been talking about the war. It's still going on out there and ships from Satorus have been spotted on the horizon. Scout ships, apparently. Hopefully they'll just leave us alone.
The paper isn't saying much about what life still exists out there. I would suspect if there are Satorian scout ships roaming around that there is at least something worth invading over here in the west. Hopefully that means there are other people still alive out there.
Clara injured her arm and it's been decided that she'll get some further augmentations to her arms to help with her job. I've seen other people with them and they are crazy strong. Not so much the people who just got the arm upgrades but if they get all their limbs replaced and their spine to keep it all together, these guys can lift just about anything, pull boulders out the wall with their bare hands and bend metal like it's paper. It's impressive but honestly terrifying as well.
I got a letter from Matt. He was taken to prison but is allowed to work off his sentence by running security. He's stationed on the other side of town. I'm glad he's all right.
There was a strange light in the sky. People seem afraid to talk about it. Might be able to find out more tomorrow, but it came from far in the south. It looked like it was a new star but it was way too bright for that.
Haven't written for a long time again. Not had much to say. Never did find out what that light was in the sky, but there has been another strange going-on today. Might have nothing to do with the light but we have these telepathic pods around the city to help get in contact with people. They put them in a few weeks ago. They all stopped working today.
Clara's been getting more and more augmentations as time goes on. I thought they were meant for people with injuries but she just seems to get them regardless. I feel like I'm losing my sister.
The day finally came. As if from nowhere, our shores were bombarded with cannonfire and magic, the night sky alight with the brightness of daylight from the horrid magics being sent to us. If not so deadly, this could have been beautiful. The Bohoori have been preparing for this and a contingent of warriors, monks and magicians are keeping the invaders outside of the city. Others are staying with the citizens and giving us some basic training in case the city limits are penetrated.
I'd never held a sword before but who knows? Maybe I'll need to use it. We've been told to stay inside and only try to defend our own abodes.
Well, I think the Bohoori were impressed with Clara's abilities... or at least people like her who have a lot of augmentations. They've decided that some of our security force is going to be fully augmented. The works. Doesn't matter what they need, they're getting everything. A "full conversion" is what they're calling it. Supposedly they can replace just about everything that isn't the brain now. They've been working on all kinds of... upgrades and add ons. They're saying they'll be making super soldiers. Are they going to be like that man I saw in the medical centre? Barely even human...
The invasion is repelled. The Satorian ships that weren't just sunk have vanished off onto the horizon and peace is here again. I suppose this should be a happy day. Why is it that all I feel is fear? I'm more afraid now than I was when I had a very real threat of death literally trying to push its way towards me. These... fully converted people, the way they look at you with cold, dead black holes for eyes, the way they all speak with the same monotone, yet oddly tuneful voice, the fact that they have enough strength to tear a man's head clean fucking off. I don't know if I can bear living with these... things.
Are they even people any more? Their brains are still there; they should be the same people underneath, right? But I've heard they don't feel fear any more. Fear has been cut out of them. How does that even happen? If they can take away their fear, what else can they remove? I don't want to know. I don't want to see one of them again. I don't want to think about them ever again.
Something I could never imagine is happening. Alcorn has stepped down as the leader of this place and a council of those fully converted fucks are going to be running the place now. Apparently they're using telepathy to meld their minds into one and create a super brain. That's what the paper says, anyway. They're going to be making decisions to ensure the continued survival of our civilisation. No mention of freedom or us having a choice. We will do as we are told and that is that.
I've distanced myself from everyone. I can't bear to be here. I need to leave but there's nowhere to go and no way out even if there was.
We need to escape this place. They're taking Clara. They're... fucking taking Clara. It's been decided, in their infinite wisdom that we need a standing army for any future invasions. The Bohoori on their own aren't enough, so people who are already heavily augmented are getting full conversions. No say in the matter, just surgery being done to us. I don't know how to escape. I can't reach Matt, who would probably be the best person to ask. I can't think of a good plan here. They're taking her tomorrow. I will not allow it.
General Alcorn,
The Thatch machines are up and running at the glacier. All future official communications should be made using those machines. This will ensure both security and integrity of data.
We are expecting delivery of the equipment from Mora in the next few days. Once it has arrived, my men will transport it into the room, but all setup will need to be taken care of by your own enchanters. You are paying me to run security and that needs to be my priority. If my resources are allocated elsewhere, that will compromise the security of the settlement. Transport of vital apparatus falls under the remit of security. Setup and operation of the apparatus does not.
The personnell list you have requested will be sent to you via the mail system on the Thatch machines. Please keep this confidential, particularly the undercover members of the security team.
A cargo ship and caravan has been chartered to transport the packages you asked about. Can you please advise the value of these packages and/or what level of security is needed for their transport? Any men assigned to this will be absent for quite some time given the distances involved. I would prefer not to have resources tied up in a long job unnecessarily.
Sincerely,
Christopher Staude
164.18329.5
To: David Alcorn
From: Christopher Staude
Date: 166.18329.5 11:55
Message:
General Alcorn,
The Equipment from Mora has been taken into Mr Abbott's laboratory and I believe has already been set up. Do you have news of when Mr Abbott will arrive, himself? The enchanter he will be
relieving of duty has already gotten on the bad side of a few of my men. I understand he is also to take some experimental armour and weaponry with him when he leaves. Is an escort needed
for this voyage?
Thank you for your response. Ratcliffe, McLinden and Matthews have been sent to accompany the packages on their journey.
I have one security incident to report. Yesterday (165.18329.5) at 14:07, a man was caught attempting to enter the city bounds. He claimed to be an adventurer and didn't know where he was. A description has been appended to our suspicious persons list. I don't expect anything to come of it.
Sincerely,
Christopher Staude
To: David Alcorn
From: Christopher Staude
Date: 166.18329.5 11:55
Message:
Before I begin my notes, I want to make it clear that this work is very different to my usual sort of assignment. My experience and expertise lie in research, not documenting an existing process. That is not to question Alcorn's orders, but to highlight that mistakes and pitfalls are more likely than what you would normally expect of a rank 5 enchanter.
The machinery and technology that was delivered to us is, quite frankly, fantastic. If survival is our goal, this will surely be our strongest tool. While I'm sure this will be documented elsewhere in attached documents, I will write a brief summary in case my own notes are separated from context:
The machinery delivered allows for augmentation to humanoid races, replacing functions of existing organs or creating interfaces between arcane devices and the body allowing for added functionality to be given to a person beyond what they could normally do.
For many of these replacements, the "spare parts" that are added will outperform the organic tissue. While likely less durable and certainly not self-repairing, the spare parts can always be replaced again if needed.
Most notably, the spare parts will continue operation at extremely low and extremely high temperatures.
We have schematics for some spare parts that can be created, but also a manual explaining how to create our own. While different parts will take a lot of work and potentially years to design and implement safely, the only hard limitation I can see would be that the brain and nervous system cannot be replaced. However, the brain can be conditioned, at least to an extent. There are existing schematics for a device which would remove the brain's ability to feel pain or fear.
The first patient was brought in today. A man named Charles Edward.