KRONOS

Humanity has forgotten how to return to their home world of Earth and they're stuck in a long war between themselves and Kronians, a race of humanoids whose planet of Kronos was burned long ago when humans found it. Complicating matters further, the war has now been reduced to skirmishes on the neutral world of Aurora, where the native Deltans live and have grown weary of the conflict. This is the hub for all information and media related to my world of KRONOS, and the centuries of warfare, politics, and other chaotic things that occur within it.

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CROSS ch.2 - Bad Moon Rising

The night was still strong, and the moon past the mountains helped shine the way.

For 3 hours now Jason Cross had been driving down the Black Road. On the drive since, Sid had been weakly banging against the car for the first hour before stopping on the second - at least that’s what Jason was sure had happened. Throughout the drive, Jason had been listening to the radio. Every now and then he’d switch the channels whenever a song failed to capture his attention. He’d mostly been ignoring Sid’s antics from within the trunk, and had been in the need for something to fill his mind till he reaches his destination.

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CROSS ch.1 - No Mercy

It’s barely past sundown over the red cliffs of Aurora, and the only lights to see for miles on end come from a bar a little off the Black Road. It ain’t the kind of place you come to stay and socialize, and it doesn’t possess the room to allow such in the first place. It’s a come-and-go sort of place, something the owners are quite proud of in fact

Sitting in the middle of some empty lot of dirt, the building is small enough enough to get in a good short walk around without feeling the least bit troubled. It’s a tight-fitting establishment. One third of the bar is used to store the stock; another third to serve it; and the rest for drinking. On the outside from its wooden walls hand all sorts of junk covering from inch to inch. Every single item hung there was savanged off the Road, left by the patrons to add their own little signature whenever the come to drink. Car rims; busted/shot signs; bottles hung on strings, and dozens of spent cartridges and shells. How it got started, nobody knows - yet it keeps going on and on.

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“Laura Silvermane, and the UROE Capital of Tyrell”

Can also be found on my DeviantArt

My final work of the year, as well the decade. I felt it was necessary to end it all on a high note, and so went about creating this piece that truly challenged my skills. I really tested me in how I did landscapes, as well in creating a city and the many layers of buildings that overlapped one another. Additionally I did my best in rendering the figure at the center of it all, doing well to paint as best I could with the given lighting and colors. Honestly, I’m very proud to have ended this year - and very well this decade - on such a work. Truly glad. ——————————————— Lore: The Capital city of Tyrell - a series of colossal mega-cities built over a giant ocean world. The world of Tyrell itself is characterized by its expansive, unending seas, with storms and ever-constant rainfall across its hemispheres. Lacking a surface, it proved initially to be a challenge for the human colonists of the newly born UROE (United Republic of Earth), but it sooner became a benefit unique to its inhabitants. Though the process spanned centuries, it paid off with the construction of the first of many mega-cities: giant, towering platforms of city over city, reaching great heights so as to house millions of humanity’s people. Power stemmed from a combination of massive turbines that utilized the ocean world’s powerful currents, and geothermal energy drawn by undersea support stations, thereby creating a relatively clean source of energy that powered the cities. Tyrell is split into many levels, though the first sight for any tourist would be the High Tops. A seemingly limitless landscape of skyscrapers of various shapes and purposes, that pierce through the upper fogs and clouds cast over the endless seas. These towers house the elite of the elites: bureaucrats; political figures; upper-crust society folk; highly visible celebrities; and those with enough pull within the multiple sectors that run human society. Some are able to crawl their way to the top, but most of the High Tops’ people were born and bred here. According to the UROE, they are the most cultured and intelligent of Tyrell’s citizenry, having well earned their spot at the top. However it’s often been noted that folks of the High Tops tend to be humanity’s most ignorant; often lacking knowledge or completely unaware of matters at the edge of UROE space: such as the turmoil in Aurora; the warring between the UROE and the Kronian Empire; or even the existence of Deltans or Hybrids. As such, those in the upper layers tend to be the most privileged and ignorant of the UROE’s population, and are only concerned with matters that affect them and them alone. However not all of its people are so soft. Living among the highest of society is one Laura Silvermane, one of the oldest gang lords that operate within UROE space and especially Tyrell. Laura Silvermane ran the Silvermanes gang from her twenties, and would hold a tight grip on the mid to upper levels of Tyrell with her activities. She ran the weapons trade, the drug routes, and even formed most of her fronts in the many casinos and races that kept her rackets safe. Her criminal empire laid a foundation in blood, as Laura held an infamously well-known bloodlust that claimed countless victims. Her violent streak ended entire families, and tortured men to such a degree that it scared many of her competitors. Often she took missions personally; heading an assault at the lead with a gun in hand and void of any cowardice. However this would become a weakness on her part, and what would lead to her greatest mistake. During a particularly violent gang war, Laura Silvermane was on a mission that would nearly end her career - and her life. On a mission, Laura was caught in a massive explosion that sent her straight to a hospital with critical injury. Although she survived, the incident had taken both of her legs and arms, leaving her a quadruple amputee. Modern science and medicine would be no help either, as the damage had done considerable scarring to her nerves - and so prosthetics were utterly useless in helping her walk or move (or so she claims). Trapped in a wheelchair, it was a miracle that her inner circle remained so loyal to their boss - and so few ever dared to try and make the grabs for her position. After the incident, the Silvermanes went cold and had greatly reduced their activities. However it wouldn’t take long for Laura to return to the spotlight. After a lengthy trial and a short period of house arrest, Laura claimed to have found religious rebirth and turned a new leaf. Apparently having gone legit, she radically transformed her criminal empire into a gaming/gambling franchise that runs many casinos and parlors across UROE space. Her circle now owns a select number of venues across Tyrell, raking in as strong a profit as did their days as criminals. This transformation turned Laura into an icon among high society, as many in the High Tops show respect to the wheelchair-bound entrepreneur. However, whispered rumors spread that it is all for show. With a public face, Laura is able to secretly control her gang operations that still run guns and drugs throughout the lower levels. Not even her injuries, or an age well past 50 has done enough to lessen her violent attitude. Though she can’t commit the deeds herself, Laura has zero sympathies for those who draw her ire - and especially those her turn against her in the slightest. In fact, her mood has only turned evermore bitter. The old gangs of her time have either gone away or become a whole lot smaller. All the while a set of new gangs are surfacing - gangs that spit on the old ways, and insult her with their decadence or soapboxing. Down below, Rasputin’s Gang (lead by a drunkard, perverted Deltan) cut deep into her drug trade with his arrogant parties. Further, the XuHuan Party (headed by trio of moralistic Hybrids) challenge her gun running while also claiming to fight for “racial quality and revolution”. Laura Silvermane watches from the High Tops. Always scowling - her mind constantly on the fact that she’s stuck in her chair… and how much she wishes to personally inflict some pain on those who insult her power.

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Clan Wol was placed in a terrible vantage point from the very beginning. A relatively young clan, they settled in the far Western cliffs, with their native home open on the North, East, and South; meanwhile the West overlooked the deep ravines that provided minimal resources. Though they worked hard to thrive under these difficult conditions, they’d become the target of many opportunist clans aiming to claim their lands and destroy its people. Constantly they faces invasion from the many small clans that neighbored them, with each attack coming after the other - almost never letting the people of Wol rest. For most clans this would eventually spell doom, but for Wol it was a miracle that they survived for so long. Every attack would whittle their defenses, but with so meager an amount of ore to produce suitable weapons, they couldn’t arm their people enough to pursuit a counter-attack. Month by month they’d face these raids, and the people of Wol could only accept their reality, and survive as best they could. They hadn’t grasped that warrior spirit yet - one that would make their clan known far and wide. For now they could only turtle up, building up their defensive perimeter with basic stone walls. This was how they lived for several years, up until that fateful day when all the patience they held would finally snap. Huuon Wol was once an ordinary apprentice under a smith, learning the trade when another attack had occurred. Unlike before though, this one had managed to break through enough that its invading warriors had stormed and raged through their village. They were like animals, breaking through homes and killing those that either fought back or ran away. A couple broke into the smith’s hut and attempted to steal the clan’s weaponry; Huuon fought bravely to stop the attackers, but unable to match their ferocity she was beaten and thrown into the intensely hot fires used to fuel the forge. Her arms and legs burned fiercely, the skin turning black and hard as coal before she managed to roll away into safer ground. By then the invaders ran off, stealing what they could from the clan. The people of Wol were devastated, but not more so than Huuon. Staring at her ruined hands and feet, the pain brought upon a feeling that had built up within all of Clan Wol - and would now be unleashed in full force: revenge. The pain was immense, and at times she could barely stand or hold a hammer, but her want for vengeance subdued the fierce stinging in her flesh. Uttering not a single word, she worked the forge with what ore they still had. For full night and day she worked, and from her efforts came a massive sword. With blade and handle it could stand taller than its creator. The blade was crude and heavy, lacking in quality and sharpness, it made up with pure strength in its weight. To allow herself to handle it, she wrapped her arms and legs in lengths of bandage and cloth. Then, for protection, she grafted pieces of crudely forged metal to form a set of gauntlets and pointed toes. She donned her smithing apron, ruined through the abuse it endured through the long nights at the forge - and furthermore tattered when she ripped pieces off to further dress her burns. Full dressed and armed, she set off after the clan that had inflicted such wounds upon her body and pride - alone, as her clan watched her leave off in the night. By day her people wondered if she had survived, with many falling to hopelessness that she died in her mission. This proved to not last when the next night rolled over, and she was seen walking towards the village. In each arm she led a cart, covered by tarps while her blade sat on the one hung to her right. When her people undone the tarp of the left cart, they not only found their stolen supply but as well arms and food taken from the enemy clan. Joyous cheers erupted within the village, but Huuon hushed them and asked that they reveal the “other gift”. They obeyed, and to their shock they found the cart filled to the brim with the head of every member of the enemy clan. At the top was the chieftain’s head, and those of the attackers that had personally wronged her. Silence kept for a full minute, but it would soon be followed by ferocious cry of victory. Pleased with their reaction, Huuon bowed to her chief and asked to be rewarded with but two things: One, that every member be armed and ready to bring the fight back to the clans who had harassed them for so long. And two, that the village elders be woken so that they may apply the tattoos upon her body. “A notch”, she asked, “for every head I brought back.” In the decades to follow, Clan Wol would transform from a lowly village at the cliff’s edge and into a fierce community of warriors who would fight back against anyone that dare wage war on them. Huuon Wol would be notched furthermore - every one a head she cleaved off the shoulders of her enemies. So many lines were made that they enveloped around her body, leaving only her arms bare at the latest time. Her people would adopt her weapon and dressage. Men and Women would charge into battle, wearing the same style of aprons she wore in her fights. The areas of cloth covering their thighs would be torn in her honor, with clans far and wide doing the same - as their way to pay tribute to an icon of fierce warfare. Soon Huuon Wol would venture away from her clan when they were strong enough, finding newfound honor in fighting for other clans too weak to fight back. Her adventures would eventually lead her to being recognized by the Absolute, promoting her to that of the War Goddess of Vengeance and Justice. She join the other war gods, including the likes of Avgnar Baal, where she’d continue fighting for clans across the lands of Aurora. These battles would further spread her name, making her one of the more beloved and honored gods of the Deltan pantheon. However her time would come to an end on the twilight of the Age of Want. In the battle between the War Gods and the rebellious gods lead by Dorge Rouke. Chronicles written by Clan Maelan say that she was slain in the final hours of the battle, when her blade was outmatched against the God of Battle himself. Many tell that even to her dying breath she fought with a great ferocity, never giving up without putting her all. She would be buried alongside the other war gods. In modern day Huuon Wol would forever be honored. Deltans in both their native clans and the cities would often tear their leggings to reveal their thighs, and make the same notches upon their skin when they too fell an enemy in battle. Men and Women often pray to Huuon, in the hopes that her spirit will deliver the courage and fury needed to fight back against injustice. The great sword is attributed to her, with wielders of such blades making special tribute to her clan when they train with such a strong, heavy weapon.

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“The Burning of Kronos, and the Kronian escape”

All troubles of the worlds start with Kronos and its destruction. From the millenia long war, to the colonization of Aurora and the hardships set there, all of it were due to Kronos’ burning and the subsequent escape of the surviving Kronians. Were the planet spared there would never have been a burning hatred for mankind that the Kronians now hold, and as well the creation of an Empire that has become a formidable rival in the galactic theatre. If there was no planetary fire, then perhaps humanity and Kronian-kind may be at peace, and share their companionship with the Aurora Deltans that they’d eventually meet. Yet the past can’t be changed, and where once was a sparkling green planet near similar to Earth now lies an ever-burning and toxic dead world that all races look to with shame.

It is unknown how this had occurred, save for what the Empire and the Republic can agree on: that Kronos was burned, and that humans were involved in the process. The Kronian Empire say that large ships full of humans descended upon the planet with fake promise of peaceful first contact, only to then reveal their true nature and began attacking Kronian homes. They used salvaged tech from the Old Earth, possessing devastating power that would incinerate whole forests for no reason other than pure hatred. A portion of the Kronian people managed to fight back hard enough to steal one ship, taking them all away as the planet burned with the humans and those of their people unfortunate enough to be left behind in the destruction.

The human Republic of the UROE believe different. While they accept that perhaps humans did attack the planet, they think that it may have been a rogue militia of sorts that had made off with a fleet and stolen Earthen tech. They theorize that these terrorists used advanced, salvaged technology for their own gain, hoping to take the planet as their base of operations. However it’s possible that Kronos may have been doomed from the start; that a cataclysm was coming, and that these powerful weapons simply drove the countdown in record time - due to how unpredictable and powerful Old Earth tech was. Though the Republic give sympathy, they refuse to accept responsibility for something they’d never authorize.

Still, neither side is willing to give. With Kronos’ destruction, the Kronians would land in the icy tundras of Forlon and engineer the advanced Earthen tech for their own advancement. What was once a humble race with interests in scientific knowledge, quickly evolved into a highly technological and spiritual Empire that sought vengeance for their homeworld’s demise. They would fight a long and gruesome war against the humans, eventually cutting the known galaxy in half and pulling the primitive, war-like race of Deltans into their feud. As the war continued on, the reasons would change. Now both fight until the other has accepted responsibility for all the ill done with their warring.

There would never have been a war. No conflict among these three races of Humans, Kronians, and Deltans. All the troubles would cease to exist, hadn’t it been for the burning of but one planet - Kronos.

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The Maelan clan is an extremely small clan located in the South-Eastern tip of the Conq-Wey-Lay region in the Aurora lands. Nestled deep in the tar bog, these Deltan natives are masters of deception and stealth; they use their lands to outmaneuver any potential invaders, taking them down one by one with aid from the hot black tar pits. Having spent generations in the area, they’ve formed an understanding with the bog’s various wildlife, including the carnivorous Nelgoth: the bulbous, leather and slug-like beasts that bathe in the tar and attract prey with their alluring natural glows. The Maelan have spent so much of their lives in the tar that their skin has become darker than most Deltans, and possess a membrane that is said to grant them camouflage within most environments - thus making the people of Maelan a tribe of natural assassins and spies. Most famous and beloved of the Maelan was Surra, titled Goddess of Deceit, Thievery, Stealth, and the Art of Shadow Puppetry. Her ascension to Godhood came when she, merely chief of her clan, challenged the great Deltan Absolute to a game of hide and seek, and if the Absolute couldn’t find her in a month she could then claim their throne. The Absolute, confident that they wouldn’t lose, accepted. For nearly a month he searched, going through lands far and wide to find the mischievous Surra. All seemed lost until he looked around, and by his order demanded a flame be lit in every corner of his own room - Surra Maelan was found, having taken the form of his own shadow for all those days, never once letting go. Impressed with her skill, the Absolute gave her the title of Goddess for Stealth and Deceit. In the coming days she would earn recognition for story-telling with her mastery of Shadow Puppetry, and then on further recognition of her Thievery when she stole the banquet for her Clan. Surra would continue to live throughout the age, transforming her Clan to mercenaries that acted as aid to other clans for the right price. However this deed wasn’t done out of kindness; her paranoid nature, infamous among even her own clan, would push her to forming a spy network among all the clans so as to keep a constant ear on the Gods and their doings. Through her surveillance she would catalog the events and workings going on throughout Aurora, inadvertently creating the first ever written historical documents following famous clans and figures at the time. She would write down every war, their results, the warriors in them, their relationships, and the betrayals long afterword. It was through these writings that mankind would be able to learn and understand the time before the Age of Want, and then the chaotic centuries after and leading up to humanity’s arrival. Human scholars would hail Surra as a writer and intellectual, and with good intention see her as a sophisticated and wise individual. However the most truthful of them, as well the Deltans who know of her and the clan, are quick to remember who she really was: an insane, distrustful figure who never truly allied herself to anyone without a plot prepped in secrecy. The Goddess would perish like all others in the Age of Want, though unlike most others it was not by the War God’s hands. Cautious towards even her own people, and plagued by an increasingly unhealthy amount of fear within her mind, Surra Maelan would often lock herself in her chambers and threaten death towards anyone who dared to enter it. Her spies continued to feed her information, sliding their notes into her home without ever going in to see her. When one curious member of her Clan peered inside to see her, they were overcome with a horrid sight: Surra was long-dead, her body barely decomposing in the tar she was huddled in. Her clan would guess at which point she died, be it days, months, or even years before they finally came to her body. Maelan’s Goddess died as she lived - hidden in the shadows, away from all sights. She would be forgotten with time, only remembered when her writings were eventually discovered and further donated for study by modern historians.

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Mount Baal, home to the Deltan Clan of Baal Sketch time: 2 hours.

In the mountain located in the far North of the Deltan lands live the clan of Baal. A ferocious and battle-ready clan, they are recognized for being a step up to a barbarian horde, with their battle-style favoring brutality in combat and pure offensive tactics. A comparatively small clan than most, they live inside the hollowed out Mount Baal, with reinforced interior walls due to their supply of metal ore. With Baal having a smaller supply in underground land suitable for farming, they rely on smaller encampments to feed their people - these camps are dotted around the mountains, keeping active trade between themselves and the Mount. If a camp is attacked, a message is sent to the surrounding villages which then reaches the Mount - once received, the Mount will sent a suitable battle party to fend off the attackers, or re-claim the village while the others prep for an attack as well.

The mountain interior is split into three sections. A large above-ground section that houses the 10,000 strong military, their arms, training rooms, and far-seeing ports. The bottom for the worker sect, who mine the clan’s metals and work with the various materials brought to the clan. Then finally the undergound storage, which protects food, treasures, resources, etc. Up on top, reachable by both a grand outer spiral staircase and an interior staircase known only the war sect, is the throne area that is in the open air and is highest atop the peak. The Clan Father, his advisors, and War-Chiefs live up on the top, discussing the actions and goals for the clan while remaining safest from any possible siege. The top is also where the Heroic Graveyard is located, where notable champions, chiefs, and Clan Fathers of Baal are buried.

Due to their aggressive nature and isolationist behavior, Clan Baal is disliked by most of their neighbors - although their ferocity in battle puts down any suggestion for warfare against them. They would often declare war against other smaller clans, and only in rare occasions go against anyone stronger. However their wars are usually done to raid supplies and tributes, thereby casting the image of a bully in the eyes of many.

This strategy however would die out when their Clan Father was slain by Avgnar Baal, who returned to the throne after being banished as a child and left for dead. When Avgnar was granted the title of War God, he radically transformed his clan to be more self-sustaining, creating a stronger expansion from the Mount and uplifting the camps to fortified keeps. His actions would greatly fuel the clan’s warring ability, as he adopted tactics he learned in his travels and set about the stepping stones that would transform the once small Clan of Baal into the first ever Deltan Empire.

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My character Gale Beauregard, A Deltan in modern day setting with a height comparison between herself and a human male.

Deltans, being a race that values combat ability and freedom of movement at any given moment, would prefer cloths and furs over other materials of clothing. Unless in an active war, they don’t dress in their sturdier pieces of armor, instead using looser attire that helps grant them mobility without sacrificing modesty when in human civilization.

Most Deltan clothing is made by other Deltans, with rare contributions by human owned businesses. They typically don’t wear sleeves, and aren’t often seen with shoes. Often times a Deltan will rip their leggings at the thighs if the holes aren’t already made, as a way of mimicking and honoring the War Goddess of Vengeance so that they may be blessed with strength and fury in battle.

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Bartec Ferrum. Giant Lord. Smelter of the Fiery Maw. Great Chief, and God to the iron-makers, the clan Ferrum. Bartec was an oddity; a giant even among his kin, it was said that the tremors of his footsteps would be felt long before you could spot the man. So strong was he that Bartec could lift 3 full-grown warriors in each arm, and keep them aloft across the region of Taar and back. His legs were massive and dense, with many speaking rumor that they were invincible; his own clan often verified this, telling of how their God king could wade through the boiling waters used to help forge his weapons, and he’d utter no complaint throughout it all. Yet for all his might, Bartec was known to have rarely ever raised his sword at another, instead preferring to look down and let his immense size do the talking. A solitary man who spent his years locked away in his stone keep, nestled deep within the molten well of Clan Ferrum’s Mount Taar. Every waking hour he’d forge weapons of various kinds, from the standard to the most peculiar of experimentation. Many of which would be tossed among the thousands of others, picked and chosen by his Clan, be it for war or for trade. Despite his clan’s continued astonishment at the quality of the arms, Bartec complained that they hadn’t yet reached his vision of a truly great weapon. Of the many, comparatively few would be considered worthy of his own recognition - these were often gifted to heroes and other gods, as he felt they were the only ones worthy to grasp their potential. However the greatest of weapons he forged for himself; three weapons, too heavy and sizable to be useful to any bit himself, he had made: the war-axe “Horcrom”, the long-sword “Faldeer”, and the titanic great-sword “Ur-Taar”. These three were said to be imbued with his essence, protecting their master but cursing any who dare to use it in his stead. In the twilight before the Age of Want, when the gods had fought in constant war for the whole of the land, Bartec was asked to help an old friend. The chief Dorga Rouke, the Glorious God of Battle, begged of the Giant Lord to help save the life of a boy he had found. The boy’s skull was fractured, barely clinging together and at risk of falling apart within Rouke’s hands; he pleaded that Ferrum find a solution, so that he may avoid seeking help from the accursed Goddess of Life. Bartec initially refused, stating that his skill lay in the tools to take life, not to safe it. However he then looked upon the boy and saw, through the bloodied eyes that lit awake, a fiery spirit that refused to burn just yet. Taking the risk, he brought the boy and his father to his own forge within Mount Taar, and went to work to constructing a helm - a helm that would trap the pieces of the boy’s skull together, allowing him to live. Rouke, so thankful for this, offered to give Bartec anything he could ever ask for - yet Bartec refused, wanting instead for Rouke to ensure the boy’s safety. Then so once every year the Giant Lord would make the long travel to Rouke’s clan. He’d check on the boy and his helm, seeing to his progress and growth into becoming an ambitious warrior. He’d do this, unaware that the boy he and Rouke had saved would grow up to become Avgnar Baal - War God, and world conqueror.

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Forlorn, three times declared the capital for the Kronian Empire before being officiated during recovery post-Aurora siege. A cold and arid planet, it possesses smooth stone mountain ranges, massive water-topped hills, and a rich jungle system that uniquely thrives in the chilly climate alongside its majority insectoid fauna. The weather system has long periods of wet, cool “springs”, short and slightly warmer summers, and shorter snaps of winter that brings snow to areas of higher altitude. Although home to the Kronians, this planet is not their true homeworld.

After the destruction of Kronos, the surviving Kronians amassed to this planet with the help of their many ships. Landing first in the mountains, they were unaware of the more beautiful and much more habitable landscapes that were not only hidden under the mists, but weren’t so quickly found due to their shock over their old home’s doom. After various social and political revolutions, the Kronian Empire of today would be formed, and its people would claim mastery over this planet they’ve come across.

In the grand scheme of the Empire’s functions, Forlorn serves as a strong supplier of food across their systems thanks to the undersea life. In addition, it is the heart of Imperial politics, and is home to the Royal Family that help run the Empire alongside its many Councils and Churches.The planet doesn’t serve more functions beyond this, as many in the Empire do their best to preserve the natural beauty of Forlorn as a form of respect to their lost homeworld.

In continuing the theme of preservation, cities in Forlorn are compact and tall. Each one surrounds a massive tower that helps power their own city, as well maintaining communications and establishing high-speed routes between themselves and neighboring cities. These cities are often a cool colored white, with architecture that is both efficient yet possessing incredible pride for Kronian history. However color is no stranger, as banners and signs bring a rainbow of color throughout the streets, almost to the point of being gaudy.

Some outside the Empire imagine Forlorn to be a desolate, cold, and hostile place that breed an equally cold-natured, emotionless Kronian. The Kronians of the Empire disagree most heavily; Forlorn is a beautiful diamond in the rough, and a suitable home after their old one was so horribly destroyed. 

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“Welcome to Moresatta”, a 70′s styled advert poster for my world. Once colonization of Aurora has truly gone ahead without further interruption from the natives, the joint temporary alliance between the Kronian Empire and the UROE were finally in agreement as to where the capital city would be settled. With permission granted by the native Deltans, the colony would be set in the far southern Taar region - with its most prominent neighbor being the Satta clan of natives. As a way of showing good faith, the colonists settled on naming the city “Moresatta” (Mor-ay-sa-ta); “More-” (Mor-ay) being the Southern Deltan word for ‘sister’, and “Satta” (Sa-ta) being the honored clan known for is diplomacy.

Initially developed as a mining hub, it rapidly grew into a trade center and finally a unique mix-pot for culture. Kronian, Human, and Deltans populated the city, which helped to establish the location as being a truly neutral point. Visitors would often see districts heavily populated with one race, though the majority still leaned heavily with the humans. It was a place where Kronian high-society living, Human earth-centric aniques, and Deltan warrior/miner pride would mix, match, and clash in the daily. Far and wide the city would be considered a successful example of these three races coexisting peacefully.

Unfortunately, the reputation of the city is tainted heavily by its insane levels of crime and corruption. Desert-dwelling ex-prisoners from a destroyed prison camp now roam the desert as raiders; each race has established their own respective gangs and factions that put the city under constant warring in the streets; and the poor grow immensely in the vast stretches of shanties known locally as “Southside”. What was once a promising city with a bright, diverse future, has now become the home to organized crime of every variety, and a refuge for those wanting to escape the chaos of the desert wastelands.

Of course the neither UROE or the Empire care in the slightest.

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Then with the slaying of the titanic beast, the Ur-Droth, came the passing of the ultimate lord to all Deltans: The Deltan Absolute; The almighty being of mortal power. With their death, and without a worthy heir, it utterly shattered the fragile peace that had once held the lands of Aurora together. The Five War Gods, the greatest of warriors chosen by the Absolute themself, attempted to forcibly instill the peace their lord once controlled. Without any master to lead them, the war gods of Brutality, Strategy, Defense, Vengeance, and Honor roamed the lands atop alongside their mighty armies 30-thousand strong each. They thought that with their legendary strength they could force down the other gods to remain in their lands and to honor the dying wishes of their lord. Yet they were like a sword, held in the grip of a pretender: they swung widely from dune to mounts, battling even the slightest offence to what they considered the image of their lord. Their feral nature only further angered the gods, pushing them further to total war. Concerned with the rising causalities by the near-thousands in each passing day, the glorious God of Battle, Dorga Rouk, raises his spear and called upon the other gods to join him in temporary alliance. They’d rise up, forget for a moment their hatreds of each other, and slay the War Gods for the misery they’ve brought. In the craters of Marlum, just shadowed from the far off toothy mountains to the North, the War Gods were tricked to bring their armies and lay encampment. Suddenly, in greater numbers did the Alliance of Gods come. Rouk took his shield and commanded the nameless Twin Gods of the Mountains to rampage through the front lines. Behind them, 11 other gods charged forward, with Rouk and his glorious endless cape billowing to raise morale for their armies. Their arms provided by the Smith God Ferrum, whom blessed their weapons to never break in this battle. Their cavalry gifted by the legless God to all beasts, Cahega. The Fire God Syore burned the lands; Maelan the Deceitful poisoned the stocks of their enemies. Many others contributed well, with the battle raging on until the War Gods themselves stood alone. There was no offer of peace or surrender; no change given to turn away and give up their titles. Upon Rouk’s command, the War Gods were shot and slain where they stood. With their victory cemented, Rouk dissolved their alliance, and sought to take the throne of the Absolute for himself. The other gods debated among themselves, and the debate would then be tossed aside for steel. The warring did not end that day. The gods turned on each other for land, and further for grievances both past and new. The land would grow darker, becoming stained with layers of blood as the Age of Want began with an overwhelming sense of viciousness. For unbeknownst to them, a single War God managed to survive that day, and his code would set the foundation to what the age would truly represent. The survivor of that battle was not of defensiveness, strategy, honor or even vengeance; it was brutality that lived, and it would be brutality that the Age of Want would be drenched in. The God of Brutality would live to seek revenge upon Rouk and his allies; this was the promise of that God - Avgnar Baal.

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Tana Marlum - Deltan Goddess of Death and Burial Rites

Among all the gods of the old Deltan age, none were as beloved and well-respected as the Goddess of Death. In life she would travel the lands of Aurora, visiting the ruined battlefields to provide a quick death for those left alive and unable to continue fighting. She’d also provide burial rites for the slain, holding no favoritism for clans outside her own. As such she was often expected or even called to the location of a recent battle, with the hopes that a loved one near death would be granted mercy for their pain. For this she was welcomed to the lands of nearly every major clan, and treated much alike their fellow brothers and sisters.

Although not often seen participating in battle herself, very few would doubt her abilities in combat. A heavy fighter, she oft relied on cleaves and wide swings to split her opponents in two. Her hooked blade was effective in disarming her foes before striking while they are vulnerable; the curve would brutally tear flesh and pull her enemy’s limbs in any direction she so chooses. Her spiked shield was mainly used to parry and further disarm; conversely, it would bash and impale if the situation called for it. Some tales would tell of how the goddess could leap through the battlefield, only to land with a tremendous force that brings intimidation.

The Goddess would meet her demise during the Age of Want. Fearing the lone God of War, Avgnar Baal, Tana Marlum made a hasty alliance with the Life Goddess, Farra Ghore. With Avgnar’s rampage reaching the south, the battle would prove to be a bloody one with it ending on a seige on Ghore’s base. Baal would finally reach the two goddesses, but was swayed to stop his assault when Marlum reminded him of their past within the battlefield. Before peace could be settled, the Death Goddess was then mortally stabbed from behind by Ghore, who was jealous of the love Marlum was given by their people. Ghore then revealed that the battle with Baal was only a distraction to the eradication of Marlum’s clan, just before she was finally dealt the death blow. Enraged, Avgnar Baal would slay the Life Goddess.

After her death, Tana Marlum would be considered the icon of death for centuries to come. Even when the Deltan people looked to the Great Mother as their sole Goddess, they continued to honor Marlum for the peaceful death she provided to those struggling through the hardships of life.

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Kronian Imperial Infantry unit - concept

The Kronian Empire values a combination of mobility alongside and intimidating visage for its troops. Through the advancement of military science, there have been productions of lighter armor material that still grants considerable durability and safety, alongside inner mechanisms to provide a comfortable, cold artificial inner environment as a mean of providing comfort for Kronians when in much hotter climates. The armor was designed to allow mobility, with much of the presented outer material being constructed from cloth that is often adorned with designs or signs of rankings.

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A Map of the “known world” of Aurora, inhabited by the Deltan Clans at the eve of the long war known as “The Age of Want”

The arid landscape of Aurora is lined with various mountain ranges and canyons that makes casual travel difficult for some of its inhabitants. Although clans number in the hundreds, a majority of them lived under the rule of the more settled, elite clan factions that dotted the country. At this time was when Deltan rule was at its greatest, and when wars were truly frequent. Within these 6 regions, battles would be waged, and alliances would be formed/broken throughout the chaotic age.

NORSSAK: The Northern-most region, blocked off by hostile storms far too great for even the toughest Deltan war chief. The intense weathers, along with the claustrophobic environment caved in my the mountains to the south and west, would create the sturdiest and hostile of clans. The Clans that lived here were the brutal and war-hungry Baal; the isolationist masters of archery, Zheer; and the self-proclaimed guards to the western path, the Crot.

WESSETH: As hardy as Norssak, though not as mountainous, the region of Wesseth is known for its deep trenches and a legendary beast that calls it home. Wesseth Deltans tend to bide their time, waiting for their enemies to come into their region before they let loose their warriors. Here lived the patient and crafty fighters of Muugou; and, the oft-spurned and gruedge-wielding Wol.

SOSSETH: The southern neighbor to Wesseth that is cradled by its mountain ranges, and furthermore by numerous craters. Their natural walls and defenses have made its people calmer through more peaceful living, and so aren’t as battle-hardened or ready for conflict as their northern brethren. Easy living has led them to pursue more peaceful achievements, either in service to themselves or to others. Two great clans lived here: The Marlum, a clan who has devoted themselves to the often abandoned task of granting the dead their rites in exchange for peaceful living; and the clan of Haadway, who give arms for trade.

CONQ-WEY-LAY: “The Land of Conquerors”, and birthplace to all Deltans. It is the largest region, known for its vast plains, deserts, toothy ridges in the East, and the great mountain home of the Absolute. With such open vast open spaces, control over the lands is as ever-shifting as the sands itself. However, constant combat over territories have bred the strongest and skilled of Deltan warriors; many of its chiefs are trained to walk great distances for a single battle, and would not complain even when they’re expected to make the same distance back again. Several great clans have lived in these lands. The largest and most famed is the clan of Rouk, whose people have made their names through the battlefield and in their arenas. Smaller in size are their neighboring clans: Maelan, a weak yet sneak clan that uses deceit for their fights; Ghore, who pray to life and are hated for the blaspheme of believing in rebirth; Valrahan, wandering traders who buy peace with their legendary meats; and the forgotten Mountain Clan, whose great insult has forever and retroactively wiped their names from Deltan memory.

KROSSIM: Either known as the “Bad Road” or “The Bad Lands”, it is called so for its poor quality of ground, and the tightness of its space. Settlers of Krossim often make homes within the mountains, where wild beasts and seemingly unwieldy mountain formations are seen. However, the inhabitants of this region make do; the most well-known of them have used what looked to be a disadvantageous living area for their benefit, and are more willing to wait out their attackers than to fight them openly. Situated in this area is clan Sar-Peet, who best represent their people through their mastery of defensive and siege warfare; there is also clan Syore, who possess excellent scouts and use their great mountain home to deter attackers; and clan Cahega, who have trained the various hostile wildlife for their own special breed of mounts and attack animals.

TAAR: Finally there is the region of the Taar, the southern-most area and the home to the strongest alliance of Deltan clans ever seen. Knowing that there is but one way in and out of Taar, the greater Deltan clans have formed a long and prosperous military alliance that has scared away most clans. The region is known for the open bowl of mountainous land surrounding suitable land for settling villages, as well for the over-abundance of resources in the Great Ferrum Maw. Although there have been many disputes between two of the leading clans in this region, it hasn’t truly led to a break up in their peace. Living here are the smaller clans of Termac, a minor gathering of monks and pacifists; and Zhaan, well-known for their farmers. The greater clans, meanwhile, is the famous Satta, who have settled peace between the inhabitants of Taar; and Ferrum, the legendary smiths and weapon makers throughout the lands.

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Colonial Military General of the Aurora Station: Ethan Redding

Once serving several famous land-based skirmishes and battles against the Kronian Empire on both theirs and the UROE’s own systems, General Ethan Redding considered a late retirement from active service. “I’ve seen enough action, and frankly my feet are tired from all the moving.” He’s admitted, “I can leave it to more capable hands.” Honored, he was let go and sent back to his homeworld of Aurora to get some rest from the warring. Unfortunately, not long after, he was given a request by the Colonial Office of the UROE - as a temporary security officer over the colonization of the arid planet of Aurora. Not quite used to his retirement yet, he accepted the position in the hopes that the job would be uneventful.

Like everyone else, he expected no sentient life on the planet. Early scans showed no intelligent signs of life, with the most interesting sightings being reptilian creatures that roamed the vast red-colored deserts. Settlements were quickly made, and Redding mostly sat in his office to hand out the standard patrol and recon routes for his fellow officers. Things were calm with no issues dealing with the local fuana - yet this all soon changed when the native populace was discovered: the Deltan - giant, humanoid beings who live and breath like the ancient swordsmen of old Earth history. The discovery erupted from the colony and outward to the rest of the UROE systems, bringing both excitement and curiosity. Redding, meanwhile, was busy having to calm down the colonists, only for that act to be interrupted by UROE command who had a new task for the retired General: make first contact with the Deltans. After some personal debate, he set out to accomplish this mission with a small group of troops and civilian volunteers, and with a meeting in a clearing between them and a trio of Deltan natives. This meeting would be remembered as a major success, although a journal from Redding would recall it as, “–a laugh for the natives. They had fun, so that’s good.”

Over 2 years, as the Deltan and Human languages were shared, Redding would reluctantly become fast friends among the Deltans. In particular with their leadership, the honored Great Mother and her wedded partner, the titled “War God” Avgnar Baal. They enjoyed his stories of war-time success, as well found his calm, understated explanation of human civilization to be fascinating. There was a moment when things would turn hostile when the Kronian Empire landed on the planet and made contact, with fear that war would stretch onto this new planet. However, to everyone’s surprise, the Empress of the Kronian Empire was eager to know these natives herself. In a now iconic image, a photo was made of a meeting between General Redding, the Great Mother, Avgnar Baal, and Empress Waltraud - all of them sat down in calm discussion before the Aurora landscape. Unfortunately this peace would not last.

2 years since first contact, and war was coming close. Despite public knowledge, interactions between these three factions wasn’t entirely peaceful. The Deltan’s clan-based government brought plenty of issues, where some smaller clans would often attack human/Kronian camps for their supplies or land. Humans and Kronians, with little knowledge of Deltan customs and territory, were constantly making insults towards the natives with how they developed their colonies. Eventually, it all came tumbling when the Kronian Empire expanded deeply into Deltan lands, prompting a declaration of war by several Deltan clans. This war would spread into human owned colonies, which forced Redding to again take the role of General, and to fight against the growing Deltan threat. This war would barely last a year before a morale-destroying defeat in Satta land forced the Deltans to surrender.

Avgnar Baal would become missing from the final battle, and the Great Mother had to act as the face of her people’s surrender. Initial treaties were harsh towards the Deltans, with the Empress Waltraud demanding either full or majority surrender of Deltan lands to both themselves and the humans. This was talked down to only a minor 10% of Deltan lands, as the Kronian Council and UROE saw no reason to enact such a deal. However, this change did include an execution of the Great Mother, who made the claim of full responsibility over the initial hostile actions made by her people. With the Empress Waltraud and most war council members in agreement, despite a strong impassioned refusal by Redding, the decision was made: the Great Mother would be executed by firing squad, with the act organized by Redding.

General Redding would later hold an ineffective position over the further colonization of Aurora. His command was criticized heavily when thieving and corruption grew from the growing colonies, especially as he seemed to take no action to stop them. After 12 years of service working for the colony, he was let go for retirement; then when 3 years passed, just 15 years after first contact was made, he died from an illness. His final journal entrees still mentioned Aurora even in his last days alive.

Nearly a millenia after, General Ethan Redding would be remembered as an incompetent, war-hungry buffoon: who was a weak leader for both the colony and its wars, as well becoming the face for the terrible deeds done to the Deltan people.

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Deltans who are old enough to remember the tales of the forgotten age can tell you of the Dark Gods who sought to keep their people in servitude. They were cruel creatures - the masters of the dark who kept the Deltan people underground; they left their slaves blinded by the darkness, with only the stone to break for its wonderful ore to sate their greed. Many of these horrid beings have been lost to memory, and those that they remember have no names to speak - even in secrecy. Yet there still remains one God who the Deltans can remember, and who they curse with their very existence: Peneronne, the False Mother. The Elders can tell of Peneronne, and how her soothing speech hides the cruel hatred she holds for her “children”. She possessed no body, only appearing to the Deltans of the forgotten age as an unblinking eye of green light; it could stare in all directions, knowing when you woke and slept, and spoke with a mouth that could no be read yet still be heard. The legends tell how Peneronne was cursed to have no body to birth her own children and, in a fit of envy of nature’s beauty, made the planet Aurora birth the Deltans from hard shells within the earth - this is how the Elders say the Deltan took their form, with red skin that hard as their home, and green colored eyes sparked with life by their mother. However the Deltans refused their mother’s love, instead seeking it from the planet for the warmth it gave versus the light that possessed none. Angry of such disrespect, the False Mother demanded to be shown the same love, and so enslaved her children: she threw them into darkened caves; gave them only picks for mining, and forced them to gift her Aurora’s precious metals. The planet felt saddened for its children, and so gave them the final gift that all Deltan’s cherish: Death. Peneronne would then ruin such a gift, cursing them with a long life of youthful greatness, only for it to lead to the painful, agonizing Elder years that comes before death. For many unknown years the Deltans suffered under their evil mother, mining Aurora for the metals inside of it. It wasn’t until one being, the Deltan Absolute, hid under the mother’s gaze long enough to grant their people the gift that made the Deltans what they are forever known by: the gift of war - in the form of forged metal to make a weapon forgotten by time. They spoke that Aurora’s metal was another gift, meant to arm its children against all who dare to harm them. Brought to rage, the children of the False Mother rose up to battle the Dark Gods. This war - The First War - was a long one; the Deltans had not yet become the masters of battle, and still they fought their hardest to prove what their people do naturally right. Throughout their darkened caves the Deltans slew the Dark Gods whom where brought alongside Peneronne, slaughtering them apart swords, hammers, and spears. Weakened from the fighting, Peneronne the False Mother fell before the children she hated, and was thrown to the depths of the dark caves. There she would suffer in loneliness, never to bring harm upon her children or the world she birthed them from. The Deltans would then rise from the underground and claim the surface, seeing the red mountains and sandy deserts that made the face of their homeworld. From then on the Deltans would form their clans and take rightful control of the earth, proving their natural born might. Meanwhile, while many of the Dark Gods are forgotten, Peneronne is kept in memory. Some Elders tell of her as a tale to the children, and as a warning: to never seek the False Mother’s honeyed words, and to never take for granted the many gifts Aurora has granted you; for it has granted the peaceful embrace of death, as reward for the hardships that life brings with it.