21.12.07

Christmas Art...



Here's a quick illustration of a Xoroth in it's Powered Armor. The Xoroth are a species that Atrius and the gang found in their many travels. After helping them come to terms with the Kraai, the Xoroth and Kraai both work together with Atrius and the group. Anyway, the Xoroth story will be told eventually, when I get to it in the Atrius story, so you'll just have to hold on. Or have Wes tell you all about it. I'm sure they wouldn't mind fighting the Kraai, don't you agree Shadowwire?

16.12.07

Rhaktar



The Rhaktar is an older generation Conar war-ship. By older I by no means mean geriatric -it is an extremely deadly war-ship that can hold its own against the best of them.

The S.C. employs more than one of these behemoths. In the many dozens of conflicts in which these formidable vessels have engaged the enemy in defense of Shadow Clan interests, only one has fallen to a foe, and it went down with such glorious-defiance as to be worthy of being born forth by golden chariots into the very halls of Valhalla!

It was during this conflict and with the loss of many brave patriots that we witnessed first-hand the arrival of a 'new' Conar ship upon the scene. I will give shadowire the honor of its telling, but as impossibly powerful as it may have been, its captain never counted on the well-kept secrets of the "SCS Marauder."

14.12.07

Some simple ship pics...



Atrius Preim's personal ship, a Gar-Na-Gona fighter, from the Gargonan fleet.




A police cruiser, not necessarily my ship or used by any of my characters, but what the hey!




The Smuggler, as it was known to those who, well, knew it. I just call it the cockpit of the millennium falcon with some big skis welded onto the bottom.


Anyway, those are just a few of the ships I've used and flown on. I really don't have any other info that I can divulge at this time, without killing folk, you know, the "I'll tell you but then I'll have to kill you" thing.

13.12.07

Chapter 2

(Here's chapter 2. Enjoy Pablo...)

The Major was quietly watching the road. He had two small squads stationed on either side of the bridge he was on, plus a third squad up on the abandoned building next to the roadway to provide backup if they needed it. He hoped they wouldn’t, but was grimly aware that they would. They always needed it no matter how well he planned things out. His thoughts were interrupted by the comm unit squawking in his ear. He thumbed the unit on. “What have you got for me?” He asked.
“Sir, we have a single contact approaching from the south, e.t.a. in 5 minutes.”
“Is he alone?” the Major asked. The voice on the other end was silent for a moment, “Clear on all sides, sir.” The Major turned and crawled to the south side of the bridge. He grabbed his rangefinders and peered down the road through a hole in the bridge’s concrete side. Roughly three miles south of his position, a single vehicle was coming up the roadway. If he hadn’t seen one before, he would have had a hard time spotting it amid the rubble and abandoned burnt out vehicles still clogging the roads of the dead and rotting city. It was slowly picking its way down the clogged highway, which was a good thing. The Demons didn’t know he was here, and that was always good.

He remembered the first time he saw one, standing in the middle of the town square. One of the ugliest things he’d ever seen, and one of the meanest. Those who survived the initial slaughter, simply called them Demons, and the name stuck. They certainly looked like a nightmare, standing over 8 feet tall, large ugly fangs protruding from their skeletal heads, the thick armor-like dreadlocks that covered the back of the head and neck, the brownish-green mottled skin, and the deep pitch black eyes. Yes, He thought, it’s a good thing they don’t know we’re here.

He thumbed on his comm unit again, “Okay men, you know the drill, into positions, let’s keep this clean and quick.” He thumbed off his comm unit. He still didn’t trust the things. Always wary of broken lines of communication, the Major had taught his men to use the communication units sparingly, and never when the enemy was around, because you never knew who could be listening.

He heard the soft hum of the engines as the tank-like vehicle came slowly into view. It was about a mile away when it came to a stop in the middle of the road. The tank (it was officially designated as a Skeleton Light Tank but the Major didn’t know that) extended a retractable satellite dish out of the top of its small turret. The Major was fairly certain that the vehicle was scanning for any radio traffic or comm unit chatter, and hopefully his men were following orders and not using the damned things when the enemy was in sight. The antenna slowly turned, and then retracted into the turret. The tank then started off again, still going at a relatively slow pace. The Major saw that his two squads were in position, and then he crawled over to the edge of the bridge and started to arm the rocket launcher that was laying there. He hunkered down behind the concrete barrier. He couldn’t afford to take a peak now, so he just had to wait.

The tank was about 100 yards from the bridge when they attacked. Two tongues of red hot flame shot from each side of the road as the squads simultaneously fired their rockets. They hammered into the sides of the tank with a large boom. The tank shuttered to a stop. The Major had learned from his first attack on one of these tanks that while the hand held rockets his troops carried could not penetrate the tank’s armor, the treads were quite vulnerable. He had instructed his men to use this tactic, and they had used it well. The tank, while immobile, was by no means out of the fight. The Major heard the turret whir around and then heard the unmistakable sound of automatic laser fire rip into the abandoned buildings. As if on cue, the major sprang to his feet, aimed steadily at the tank that was now only 30 yards away, and fired his rocket. He had no time to see where he hit. Before the rocket had even gone 5 yards, the Major had dropped the launcher and was crawling as fast as he could towards the side of the bridge. The turret whirred around so fast that it actually riddled the bridge with laser fire before the Major’s rocket slammed into the turret. The turret kept firing, but it was apparent that the rocket had done its job and the turret couldn’t turn anymore.

The Major reached the side of the bridge and met up with one of the squads. Now that the turret was out of action, they could approach the tank and go for the kill. Grabbing his assault rifle from his second in command, he signaled to the men to advance from their positions and flank the vehicle. As he climbed out from their hidden position, he could see the squad on the other side of the road advancing as well. This was the tricky part. And this is when they usually needed the backup. The tank sat there quietly, the barrels of the turret smoking from the heat of the laser fire, the treads charred remains. The Major hoped that somehow the damned monsters had been killed by one of the rockets. His hopes were dashed with a hiss as the back of the tank opened.

Gunfire erupted almost instantaneously. The Major’s forces gave everything they had as two hulking figures leaped from the tank. Immediately the two Demons split, one going to the left and one to the right, laser fire erupting from their large rifles. The Major dove behind a small burned out hulk of a car, followed quickly by two of his men. He knew that the tank usually had a crew of three, so that meant one was probably still inside the tank calling for backup. “Do we have any more rockets?” he asked one of the men.
“Kranz has the last rocket, sir.” The Major thumbed on his comm unit, no need to keep quiet now. “Kranz, what’s your position?”
”Sir, I’m pinned down about three cars behind you.”
“Can you see into the tank?” Asked the Major.
“Not quite sir.” The Major thought for a moment, trying to play out in his head what needed to happen.
“Okay, on my order, get where you need to be to fire that last rocket into the open tank, I’ll have the men provide you cover. And Kranz, don’t miss.” The Major dialed in the open channel used by all his men.
“All right men, on my order we all converge on the tank.” He paused to glance over the car while the men gave suppressing fire from their protected hiding places. He could only see one of the Demons, crouched down behind its own cover, returning fire.
“NOW”, shouted the Major. At his order, all of the squad surged from their hiding spots, making a mad rush at the tank. The Demon stood up and started picking off the soldiers one by one, giving no heed to the large amounts of fire ricocheting off its dull black armor. “The damned thing has armor!” The Major watched in horror as the Demon systematically slaughtered his men, handling the laser rifle with amazing accuracy and speed. The Demon had killed five of the ten men who rushed him before they converged on it, piling on top of it like ants. The Demon swung his rifle like a club, crushing the skull of the man who couldn’t get out of the way. Two of the men had leapt onto the back of the monster and were trying to pry the helmet off, at least giving them a soft spot to hit. The Demon realized that this would not be a good thing, and started reaching frantically for the two men. The Major was about to join the fray when the tank exploded in a massive fireball. The Major was blinded by the white hot blast, felt himself rocket away from the explosion, then a sharp searing pain in his head and back, and then everything went black.

New Discussion Topic.... because Bot is too lazy to post one....

My idea for a new discussion topic is ships.

Yes I want to know more about the vessels of various M.O.A.G.ers.

So explain away the vast awesomeness that is your ship, fighter, cruiser, etc.

And do it now, or I will sic West on you.

And he is rabid. So hurry and post.

7.12.07

Chapter 1

(Here it is... the first chapter of Atrius' story. Enjoy, and sorry for the length.)

He awoke lying face down on the cold steel floor, not sure exactly where he was. It took nearly ten minutes for him to gain control of his senses, and rise to his hands and knees. Another ten minutes passed before he could see straight, his one eye trying to adjust to the dark he found himself in. His clothes were soaked in what appeared to be vomit, probably not all his, and blood. He tried to stand up, but a wave of nausea brought him quickly to his knees, and he wretched his guts out until nothing but bile dripped from his burning lips.

He sat there, looking at the floor for nearly an hour, not entirely sure that the nausea had gone. He glanced around the room, trying to remember how, and why, he was there. The room was rather small, just large enough for a small slab of steel with what appeared to be a horrible imitation of a mattress laying on top, a dirty sink with a cracked mirror, and a very used toilet, the kind you’d expect to see in a cell of some sort, which is what he determined this must be. He momentarily thought about looking in the mirror, getting a good look at himself, but the thought of throwing up again quickly changed his mind. Instead, he slowly crawled to the crude bed. It took him fifteen minutes to drag his upper body onto the steel slab. His body completely drained of energy, he could not go any further, and he fell asleep.

The sound of a closing door jostled him from his sleep. He didn’t know what time it was, or how long he had slept, but he felt much better than yesterday. At least he thought it was yesterday. His eye adjusted much faster to the dark this time, a good sign, and he noticed a small tray near the door, with some nutrient sticks and a cup of water on it. He sat up gingerly, hoping that the nausea had also gone, and much to his relief it had. He started to stand up but thought better of it, so he slid off the bed and crawled to the tray. The nutrient sticks were standard issue on Conar ships, and while they contained all the necessary vitamins and nutrients, they tasted like Klisk droppings. Not that he had ever tasted Klisk droppings, but the Conara soldiers all seemed to think the description was rather accurate. But he was used to the sticks, and realizing how hungry he really was, he quickly devoured them.

The sticks did wonders for him, and within a half-hour, he found he could get to his feet without too much trouble. After adjusting to being on his feet, it felt like he hadn’t walked for nearly a month, he shuffled over to the mirror to finally get a good look at things. His head was shaven, and on the top of his head was a fresh tattoo of what appeared to be a bar code with the seal of the Conara Fleet next to it. His face was a mass of bruises and scars, a deep black patch around his eye. He stepped back to get a good look at the rest of his body. His chest was wrapped in a surgical field bandage stained with blood and vomit. He gingerly moved his arms in a round-about motion and from the sharp pain in his side determined that he had a couple of broken ribs. He had definitely looked better.

The door quietly slid open, its gentle motors whirring in almost near silence. He looked in the mirror over his shoulder to see the silhouette of a large Conar standing in the doorway. The Conar looked him over for nearly a minute and then tossed him a bundle of clean clothes. “Atrius Preim, you’re coming with me.”

“What is HE doing here?” Captain Aaleg demanded to no one in particular. Not that any of the crew on the bridge would answer, even if they did know why Grand Admiral Sentano was on their ship. Aaleg strode over to the security officer, “Where is he now?”
“He is on the bridge, Captain.”
Aaleg turned slowly to see the Admiral standing in the open door. Captain Aaleg was considered a large Conar, standing close to nine feet tall. He had used his size many times to improve his rank and standing, intimidating any who got in his way, and destroying those who wouldn’t get out of it. But any thought he had of intimidating the Admiral went quickly out the airlock. Sentano stood a good 13 feet tall, and was easily the largest Conar Aaleg had ever seen. He understood why the Admiral seemed to have few enemies.

“Grand Admiral Sentano Sir, we are honored to have you on board. I hope…”
“Captain Aaleg, You have ten minutes to assemble all members of the Preim project in docking bay 8. Don’t keep me waiting.” And without another word the Admiral turned and strode out of the bridge. The Captain quickly pulled his first mate aside, “Greel, get the Preims in the docking bay”
“What about the grunt?” Greel hissed.
“Clean him up as fast as you can, and maybe by the luck of Osidus we’ll live through this.”
Greel watched Aaleg hurry down the corridor. “I doubt it.” He mumbled to himself, and then ran back toward the bridge.


Dannis was sitting on the floor of his room, next to his brother’s bunk. Atrius had been in the brig for a week now, and Dannis was getting worried. Not that Atrius didn’t deserve it. Dannis had told him repeatedly that the Conar were just baiting him, hoping he would give them any semblance of a reason to use excessive force, and Atrius never seemed to disappoint them, and that was making it harder for the rest of the Preims.

The door hissed open and the first mate stepped into the room. “Get on your feet Preim, you’ve got a visitor.” Dannis climbed off the floor, “What do you mean I have a visitor?” Greel didn’t seem to pay any attention to him.
“You have 5 minutes to get the rest of your… group”, Greel’s sarcasm was palpable, “up to docking bay 8. Your visitor doesn’t want to be kept waiting, so I would suggest you hurry.”
“What about Atrius?” Dannis asked as he followed Greel into the corridor.
“Oh, he’ll be there.”
“Is he okay?”
“Only if we’re lucky” Greel muttered to himself as he hurried off to the docking bay.

Dannis went back to his room, quickly got his uniform on and then thumbed on his com unit.
“Xar, Shyla, Garrick, meet in docking bay 8 in 5 minutes. Battle dress.” He looked in the mirror, made sure his uniform looked good, and then headed out the door towards the docking bays.
“What’s this all about?” Dannis turned to see Xar and Shyla coming down the corridor.
“Greel said we had a visitor. Wanted to see all the Preims.”
“Will Atrius be there?” Shyla asked. “I haven’t seen him for at least a week.”
“Greel said he’d be there, but I don’t know what condition he’ll be in.”
“He should be dead” Xar added, “Aaleg really went berserk. I’ve never seen him that mad.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing Atrius is half Gargonan” said Dannis.
“He has always been hard headed” added Shyla. “Maybe Aaleg finally knocked some sense into him this time.”
“We thought that he knocked some sense into him last time” Xar added dryly. They all chuckled as they entered the trans-lift to the docking level.


Atrius had never seen this Conar before, and this intrigued him. Aaleg’s ship had a crew of 50, not including the Preims, and Atrius had met all the crew at least once, so finding someone new on board was quite a surprise.
“So… where exactly are we going?” He asked. The Conar seemed not to notice him and kept walking briskly down the corridor.
“Oh, looks like I’ve found me a talker” Atrius mumbled to himself. Before he realized what was happening, the Conar turned, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall, holding him a good two feet off the ground. Atrius grabbed on to the large arm, trying to take some of the pressure off of his larynx.
“Listen rat, YOU have not found anything. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
”Well…” gasped Atrius “I think I see your point.” Without another word the Conar let go of Atrius, turned sharply and continued on his way. Atrius stepped in behind him, rubbing his sore neck


Sentano looked over the files of all the members of the Preim Project. They were a diverse group, especially seeing as that they were all half-breeds. The Grand Council had diverse opinions concerning the Preims and their worth to the Conar. Some of the Admirals, like Faye, thought that they were vital assets to the fleet. Others, like Hooblabah felt they were… well… half-breeds and not worth the fleet’s time or efforts. Sentano was somewhere in the middle. He didn’t really care about them either way. That was why the Council had sent him. He didn’t have to come personally, he could have sent any one on his staff, and he was planning on doing just that, but then at the last moment, something about the group intrigued him.

He flipped back through the files. The Preims were all born and raised in a test facility ran by Admiral Faye. They were addressed by their ID numbers until they were roughly 5 years old, in which they were allowed to choose their name. Most of the members kept Preim as their surname, in reference to the name of the project they were part of. It was all rather dull, Sentano thought. He could care less about how a soldier came into the world. Just as long as he was a soldier. He came across the personal files of each member and studied them individually.

Dannis Preim was the defacto leader of the group. He was mix of Conar and Nareskan, which combination allowed him to be extremely adept at hand to hand combat. He was, for the most part, Conar, and from his looks you could not tell any different, save for he was only 6’10” tall, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. “Perhaps that’s why he is the leader” Sentano thought. “He looks the most normal out of the group.”

Atrius Preim was the next file. He was a mix of Gargonan and Cylonquin. “I feel sorry for this one” Sentano muttered to himself. “Being part Gargonan has to earn him a lot of points.” The Conar and Gargonan were bitter enemies, had been for millennia, and if Aaleg’s crew was anything like the rest of the Conar fleet, they would not like him at all. Sentano looked at the picture attached to the file. Atrius was roughly 6 feet tall, had pale yellowish skin, long dark hair and one large green eye. “At least he’s not green” Sentano thought. Atrius had a long list of “disciplinary actions” attached to his file. This didn’t surprise Sentano, but what did surprise him was not the amount of abuse he had taken, but how well he seemed to recover from it. Apparently the one part about him that made the Conar hate him was also the one reason he was still alive. That was very interesting indeed.

Xar Preim. Half Conar and Macaneon. Very interesting mix. The Macaneons were a small, lizard like species with 4 arms, of which Xar was blessed with. Other than the 4 arms, he looked surprisingly Conar, even staying relatively tall at 7’6”. He was another one that the crew seemed to get along with, and it stated that he spent a lot of time with Shyla Preim, and that could be why the crew liked him.

Sentano turned to look at Shyla’s records to see what the statement in Xar’s file meant. He saw the picture and immediately understood. She was a very attractive Conar female, which was a rarity, especially in the Conar fleet. Shyla was half Conar and Half Cylonquin. She looked mostly Conar, but had the smooth elfish qualities associated with the Cylonquins. Standing at 6”8”, she was rather short, but Sentano could see how the crew could overlook that fact. It was noted that she was involved with Xar. “Ah, and now we see why they like him too” Sentano added with a chuckle.

The last member of the group was the oddest of them all. Garrick Psycke was half Nareskan, half Human. He was good with computers but not a great asset at hand to hand combat, especially against larger opponents, like a Conar. He was the most independent and aloof of the group, not keeping the Preim surname when he chose his name. Interestingly enough, there was not much else about him in the file. Sentano thought that was rather odd and would have to inquire about that with the good captain Aaleg.

A shuffle at the door brought Sentano out of his contemplation. He looked up to see one of his guards enter the bay followed by whom he assumed to be Atrius. He was in bad shape. The guard led him over to the Admiral.
“Sir, I have brought you Atrius Preim as you requested.”
“Excellent. You may return to your station”. The guard quickly turned and headed back on board Sentano’s shuttle. Sentano stared down at Atrius, who came roughly to his waist.
“So you are the infamous Atrius Preim. I cannot say it is an honor to meet you.”
“Well, give it time. I find most people are honored by my presence” replied Atrius dryly.
Sentano looked at him thoughtfully before answering.
“You have no fear, I’ll give you that, but your attempt at humor is somewhat lacking”.
Atrius stood looking at the massive Conar, wondering what he could want and more importantly, who he was.
“You seem to know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you.”
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. Now, if you would kindly wait for the rest of your group, we can get down to business.” Atrius knew that the Conar was commanding him to stand at attention and get out of his way. Atrius did as he told, and found it quite interesting. If Aaleg would have given him that command, there would have been no way that he would have obeyed. Mostly out of principle. But there was something about this Conar that was different than any Conar he had ever met. For some reason Atrius respected him. Even felt willing to follow orders from him.
“Come on now Preim” Atrius said to himself “Don’t get soft on me know.” And with that he did something that Atrius Preim had not done for a very long time. He followed an order.

When the rest of the Preims arrived, the admiral dismissed Aaleg and his officers, who were more than happy to get as far away from the admiral as possible. When the group was alone, Sentano turned quickly to the group.

“I am Grand Admiral Sentano. You are now under my… supervision. We will be leaving the ship in 15 minutes, I suggest you retrieve your necessary items and meet back here as quickly as possible. The shuttle will not wait. So either you make it, or you can try Captain Aaleg’s hospitality. You are dismissed.”

Atrius watched the other Preims run out of the bay. He had nothing on board that he wanted to keep, and a few things that he wanted to forget. He quietly walked over to the Admiral’s ship, walked passed the guards, and went up the ramp.



Aaleg quietly watched the Admiral’s shuttle leave the docking bay. He said nothing to the bridge officers who reported on the ship’s systems, or paid any attention to the various statements of readiness being shouted out by the communications officer. When Sentano’s shuttle joined up with his fleet, Aaleg walked quietly into his quarters, and watched the fleet make its jump into hyperspace. He stared at the view screen for a moment, as if to make some silent decision, then with a nod of his head, he walked over to his personal computer, entered in his security password, and punched up a secure channel to the space station he was orbiting around. A communications officer appeared on the screen.
“This is Captain Aaleg, of the Golden Fang, I request a secure transcom link.”
“Yes sir.” Stated the comm officer. “What is the link’s destination?”
Aaleg reeled off the information by heart, “Alpha Quadrant, 45892 Delta, Call Sign ‘Clean Slate’”.
“The link will be active pending identity verification. Please transmit your security package now.” Aaleg entered in the necessary information and sent his electronic identification papers to the station. The comm officer verified his identity, entered in some information in his computer, and then turned to the captain, “Verification complete, transferring the signal to you now.” Aaleg watched the screen flicker black, and then the communications officer was replaced by a surly looking conar.
“You’re Excellency,” Aaleg said with a firm salute. “I am reporting as ordered concerning the package that was left in my care.”
“Has he picked them up?” Asked the conar.
“His fleet has just left the system.” Aeleg answered.
“Very good. You have your orders. Keep me informed.”
“Yes your Excellency.” Aaleg saluted the conar, closed the transcom link, and quickly went back to the bridge. He quickly strode in and sat in his command chair. “Helmsman, bring us to the far end of the system, prepare all systems for hyperspace.” As the bridge sprang into action, Greel walked quietly over to the Captain. “What are our orders?” he asked.
“We are to proceed as we discussed.”
“Shall I plot our destination, then?” asked Greel. Aaleg thought for a moment, and then silently nodded. Greel immediately walked over to the Navigation officer. “Set us a course for…” his voiced trailed off as he searched through various star charts and galaxies. “Set a course… here.” The Navigation officer looked at their destination, started entering the coordinates and necessary information, all the while wondering what Aaleg needed on a little backwater planet called “Earth”.

5.12.07

Characters eh? Well... where do I start?

I've enjoyed the last couple of posts about people's characters in moag, and thought, 'what the hey, I'll give it a shot!' But here I am, staring at my computer screen and wondering where the heck do I start?

I've got more moag characters than I know what to do with, and half of them I don't even remember. There's the obvious ones, Atrius Preim (Note the German spelling. No real significance, but I thought it was cool). And, well, okay so maybe he's the only obvious one. He's definitely the one I've played the most.

For those of you who don't know, Atrius is what the Conar call a Quell. He's a half-breed, straight from a Conara military test tube. He's a mixture of Gargonan and Cylonquin, a very interesting mix. He looks roughly human, but does have only one eye. He started off as a peon in the Conar military, working with his "brother" Dannis, a Conar/Naresken (Shadowwire, you'll have to confirm that) mix, as well as Xar (Conar/Macaneon, picture a four armed Conar), Shyla (Conar/Cylonquin, very popular amongst the Conara military, you know, there not being many good looking Conara females), and Garrick Psyche (human/nareskan). The Preim group, as they were called was sent mainly on small mercenary type missions until the "passing" of Admiral Faye, the leader of the Preim project. After which they were transfered to Admiral Hooblabah's command. Hooblabah set them up in the firefight with the squad of Klisk Powered Armor on Earth, where Atrius was separated from the rest of the Preim group, lost his left arm, got a cybernetic implant thanks to a stranded Macaneon in Orlando, and eventually came back to the Conar, got reenlisted as Syrac Krex, commanded his own ship until a group of Conara Mercenaries took it hostage, which turned out to be Dannis and the rest of the Preims.

Anyway, there's too much story to tell here, and I've tried my hand at writing my own novel-like thing which I'll post at a later date, but let me sum up quickly:

The Preims sought out Admiral Sentano, and then under his employ, started looking for Artifacts (will power endowed items) and joined forces with some Gargonans (I know, a very strange partnership), started finding the Gargon Armor (Atrius first found the Black, and the others found theirs after that) helped establish a society on a small planet called Respon in the outer rim and use the planet as the base of their operations, found 9 of the 12 Gargons, confronted Osiris himself, and then the Preims split up, with Atrius heading out to the outer territories for who knows what. Wow.

That was quite a long run on sentence.

That was the last I ever saw of him, and have since retired him from active MOAG play. Although Shadowwire and I have some grand ideas for him, so don't think that's the last you've ever seen or heard of him. He'll show up when you least expect it, but probably when you need him the most. Or not.

So, let me get my breath.

Okay, so that's my most famous character, but I've been lucky enough to have some other important characters. Luckily, that means I've had my hand in the proverbial MOAG slime since the beginning. I've introduced new species into the game, the Gorloch. I've drawn the majority of the species, and so I got to put my own spin on what Shadowwire wanted them to be, and got to be my own creative editor. And I think it's safe to say that Kang, Bot, and myself have been Shadowwire's biggest help in ironing out game play, setting up the MOAG universe, and basically telling Shadowwire that some rules sucked, and needed to be changed.

So I don't really know where this trains going... but I better get off here.

See you all later.

4.12.07

WHEW! That tryptophan is potent!

I was beginning to worry that the turkey did every one in!

Now, as to my characters:
My first... Kiaya Cron, Klisk Imperial Princess. Spoiled royal brat, thought she knew everything about everything, til she found out the hard way, almost with her life. She's on haiatus til she finds a purpose for her life. (yes, shadowwire's daughter is named after my character...what an honor!)

Next is Catrynte Campbell, a human from Pre-MOAG. Born in Scotland at Castle Argyle, her father is the current Laird of the Campbell Clan. Abducted by the Conara at age 15, doesn't remember much about it yet. Was in the witness protection program because she witnessed a mob hit; they found her, she was whisked away to Regina, Saskachewan, Canada, and placed undercover as a police officer's partner. Just witnessed the first Conaran Tank being dropped off as the invasion begins. Yes, those long buried memories are screaming to the surface rapidly.

Next is Savara Garr, Conara( or is the correct term Conar?); of the afore mentioned "Good" side of the Garr/Gar family. But... she's not always been so good. Special Ops agent for the Conaran Gov't. (nuff said), currently AWOL, also a mercenary for hire at times, Captain of an amazing ship... the Kadaj, has gathered an incredible crew that she also considers her best friends, is President of the Tiberion Corporation that made millions with the discovery and development of spice and synth spice- found to be effective against the nano virus formerly considered the Unknown Threat, and also co-founder of Trahelion Pharmecutical, Du Vrangr Gata Research and Developement ( yes, I borrowed the name from the books Eragon and Eldest) and last but not least, Ocreb Transport. Also, wife of Ja-rod. Savara is one cool Lady, and the character I've played the most.

Forth is Iella Tarus, Gargonan;Also known as 'Q' after an attempted memory wipe. Sister to Pablo Diablo's character mentioned in his last entry. She is a spy for the Gargonan Gov't, and recently went under cover to rescue her brother (she's still not sure why) and other members of the Red Light Project (? not sure of the name) a program set up to attempt to create super soldiers using technology stolen from the Gargonans.

And lastly, Mar-ya Drax, Klisk; an Engineering Specialist that didn't want to be tied down to a bunch of needy Klisk husbands (yet), and is out making her way through the galaxy. She's currently between jobs. I don't know her very well yet, she's only been created for a few days.
I look forward to getting to know her and Iella (also fairly new) much better.

The Unoriginal Bounty Hunter

My first MOAG character's name is completely unoriginal. Any fan of the Star Wars expanded universe will know that the name Jaster Mereel belongs to a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter who eventually became Mandalore. There I said it. I am a pirate of copyrighted material. I digress, some of my other character names have been the Gargonan Barden Tarus or another Gargonan Goran Vegarr.

Tarus is the family name of a semi-succesfull line of spys, agents, etc. who work for the Gargonan Empire. Barden recently exploded the head of a crazy midget scientist who could warp people's minds.

Vegarr was originally Negarr but that seemed to be too close to a very racist word for my comfort. Vegarr was told that he would be a farmer not an assassin for the Gargonan Empire. As a result of this he fled the Empire and made his way to the trading planet of Cern where he got thrown in jail for stealing something to eat. He was just recently released.