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Author SHA1 Message Date
0fd9059750 bugfix and extra 2023-12-08 15:04:21 +00:00
33f9644197 bugfix render.sh 2023-12-07 17:30:19 +00:00
aef9b91972 split site content off into separate repo 2023-12-06 17:02:08 +00:00
100 changed files with 23 additions and 944 deletions

3
.gitmodules vendored Normal file
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[submodule "in"]
path = in
url = git@github.com:Atlas48/site-neo-content.git

1
in Submodule

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Subproject commit aa091b501be4fabd8829b1d09073e22d3b6e763e

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Hello!
I'm Atlas, the only codemonkey in my friendcircle, and probably the only person I know with multiple static sites to their name.
I'm a citizen of the United Kingdom, living in it's southeast.
I love TTRPGs, and I am slowly letting *Changeling: the Dreaming* take over my identity.

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@import "extra.scss"
a[href^="http"] //external links
color: var(--extlink,lightblue)
::after
content: ""
width: 11px
height: 11px
background-image: url(var(--extimg, "/img/extlink.svg"))
background-position: center
background-repeat: no-repeat
background-size: contain
display: inline-block
body
@include font("sans")
.header
margin-left: 2em
.content
margin-left: 4em
.u
text-decoration: underline
.i
font-style: italic
.b
font-weight: bold

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@use 'sass:color'
@import url("all.css")
@import url("font/ibm-plex/mono/def.css")
$bg: #1F0042
$fg: invert($bg)
$link: #E0E030
:root
--extlink: lighten($link, 25%)
body
background-color: $bg
color: $fg
font-family: "IBM Plex Mono", Consolas
a
color: $link

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@use "sass:color"
@import "extra.scss"
@import url("all.css")
@import url("font/ibm-plex/sans/def.css")
$bg: #00103D
$fg: #EAE8E3
$link: #189E86
$cont: #C7532B
:root
--extlink: lighten($link, 25%)
@font-face
font-family: 'Science Gothic', monospace
src: url('font/science-gothic.ttf') format('truetype')
body
background-color: $bg
color: $fg
.header
@include font("mono")
border: 2px solid $fg
background-color: scale-color($bg,$lightness:-25%)
a
text-decoration: underline
color: #B8B991
.content
font-family: 'IBM Plex Sans', sans-serif
h1
font-family: 'Science Gothic', monospace
@include font-settings(345,100,116,0)
:before
content: '#'
a
color: $link
a:visited
color: #CDA75C
text-decoration: none
blockquote
border-left: 6px solid $cont
color: scale-color($fg,$lightness:25%)

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//Mixin definitions and global variables.
@mixin font($font) {
//no support for case so gonna have to YandereDev this.
@if($font=="sans") {
font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;
}
@else if($font=="serif") {
font-family: "Times New Roman", Times, serif;
}
@else if($font=="mono") {
font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;
}
@else {
@warn "Unknown value passed to mixin font: #{$font}."
}
}
@mixin font-settings($weight: 0, $width: 0, $yopq: 0, $slant: 0) {
font-variation-settings: 'wght'$weight, 'wdth'$width, 'YOPQ'$yopq, 'slnt'$slant
}

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/*TODO: add support for other types*/
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Mono';
src: url('regular.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('regular.woff') format('woff'),
url('regular.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: normal;
font-style: normal;
}
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Mono';
src: url('bold.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('bold.woff') format('woff'),
url('bold.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: bold;
font-style: normal;
}
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Mono';
src: url('italic.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('italic.woff') format('woff'),
url('italic.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: normal;
font-style: italic;
}
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Mono';
src: url('bolditalic.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('bolditalic.woff') format('woff'),
url('bolditalic.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: bold;
font-style: italic;
}

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Copyright © 2017 IBM Corp. with Reserved Font Name "Plex"
This Font Software is licensed under the SIL Open Font License, Version 1.1.
This license is copied below, and is also available with a FAQ at:
http://scripts.sil.org/OFL
-----------------------------------------------------------
SIL OPEN FONT LICENSE Version 1.1 - 26 February 2007
-----------------------------------------------------------
PREAMBLE
The goals of the Open Font License (OFL) are to stimulate worldwide
development of collaborative font projects, to support the font creation
efforts of academic and linguistic communities, and to provide a free and
open framework in which fonts may be shared and improved in partnership
with others.
The OFL allows the licensed fonts to be used, studied, modified and
redistributed freely as long as they are not sold by themselves. The
fonts, including any derivative works, can be bundled, embedded,
redistributed and/or sold with any software provided that any reserved
names are not used by derivative works. The fonts and derivatives,
however, cannot be released under any other type of license. The
requirement for fonts to remain under this license does not apply
to any document created using the fonts or their derivatives.
DEFINITIONS
"Font Software" refers to the set of files released by the Copyright
Holder(s) under this license and clearly marked as such. This may
include source files, build scripts and documentation.
"Reserved Font Name" refers to any names specified as such after the
copyright statement(s).
"Original Version" refers to the collection of Font Software components as
distributed by the Copyright Holder(s).
"Modified Version" refers to any derivative made by adding to, deleting,
or substituting -- in part or in whole -- any of the components of the
Original Version, by changing formats or by porting the Font Software to a
new environment.
"Author" refers to any designer, engineer, programmer, technical
writer or other person who contributed to the Font Software.
PERMISSION & CONDITIONS
Permission is hereby granted, free of charge, to any person obtaining
a copy of the Font Software, to use, study, copy, merge, embed, modify,
redistribute, and sell modified and unmodified copies of the Font
Software, subject to the following conditions:
1) Neither the Font Software nor any of its individual components,
in Original or Modified Versions, may be sold by itself.
2) Original or Modified Versions of the Font Software may be bundled,
redistributed and/or sold with any software, provided that each copy
contains the above copyright notice and this license. These can be
included either as stand-alone text files, human-readable headers or
in the appropriate machine-readable metadata fields within text or
binary files as long as those fields can be easily viewed by the user.
3) No Modified Version of the Font Software may use the Reserved Font
Name(s) unless explicit written permission is granted by the corresponding
Copyright Holder. This restriction only applies to the primary font name as
presented to the users.
4) The name(s) of the Copyright Holder(s) or the Author(s) of the Font
Software shall not be used to promote, endorse or advertise any
Modified Version, except to acknowledge the contribution(s) of the
Copyright Holder(s) and the Author(s) or with their explicit written
permission.
5) The Font Software, modified or unmodified, in part or in whole,
must be distributed entirely under this license, and must not be
distributed under any other license. The requirement for fonts to
remain under this license does not apply to any document created
using the Font Software.
TERMINATION
This license becomes null and void if any of the above conditions are
not met.
DISCLAIMER
THE FONT SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED "AS IS", WITHOUT WARRANTY OF ANY KIND,
EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO ANY WARRANTIES OF
MERCHANTABILITY, FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE AND NONINFRINGEMENT
OF COPYRIGHT, PATENT, TRADEMARK, OR OTHER RIGHT. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE
COPYRIGHT HOLDER BE LIABLE FOR ANY CLAIM, DAMAGES OR OTHER LIABILITY,
INCLUDING ANY GENERAL, SPECIAL, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, OR CONSEQUENTIAL
DAMAGES, WHETHER IN AN ACTION OF CONTRACT, TORT OR OTHERWISE, ARISING
FROM, OUT OF THE USE OR INABILITY TO USE THE FONT SOFTWARE OR FROM
OTHER DEALINGS IN THE FONT SOFTWARE.

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@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Sans';
src: url('regular.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('regular.woff') format('woff'),
url('regular.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: normal;
font-style: normal;
}
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Sans';
src: url('bold.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('bold.woff') format('woff'),
url('bold.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: bold;
font-style: normal;
}
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Sans';
src: url('italic.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('italic.woff') format('woff'),
url('italic.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: normal;
font-style: italic;
}
@font-face {
font-family: 'IBM Plex Sans';
src: url('bolditalic.woff2') format('woff2'),
url('bolditalic.woff') format('woff'),
url('bolditalic.ttf') format('truetype');
font-weight: bold;
font-style: italic;
}

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.marquee {
width: 450px;
margin: 0 auto;
white-space: nowrap;
overflow: hidden;
box-sizing: border-box;
}
.marquee span {
display: inline-block;
padding-left: 100%;
/* show the marquee just outside the paragraph */
animation: marquee 15s linear infinite;
}
/* Make it move */
@keyframes marquee {
0% {
transform: translate(0, 0);
}
100% {
transform: translate(-100%, 0);
}
}
.blink {
animation: blink-animation 1s steps(5, start) infinite;
-webkit-animation: blink-animation 1s steps(5, start) infinite;
}
@keyframes blink-animation {
to {
visibility: hidden;
}
}
@-webkit-keyframes blink-animation {
to {
visibility: hidden;
}
}
.center {
text-align: center;
}
/*# sourceMappingURL=legacy.css.map */

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@import "extra.scss"
@import url("all.css")
.header
border-bottom: 1px solid black
@media(prefers-color-sceme: dark)
body
background: #1b1b1b
color: #fff

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#+TITLE: Minions
#+OPTIONS: toc:1 num:nil
#+STARTUP: entitiespretty
* Clockwork Spider
:PROPERTIES:
:CUSTOM_ID: clockwork-spider
:END:

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/medium humanoid,/
- Armor Class ::
- Hit Points :: 162 (d+)
- Speed ::
| STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
|-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----|
| | | | | | |
| -5 | -5 | -5 | -5 | -5 | -5 |
#+TBLFM: @3=floor((@2-10)/2)
- Saving Throws ::
- Damage Resisistances ::
- Damage Immunities ::
- Condition Immunities ::
- Senses ::
- Languages ::
** Traits
- Legendary Resistance (3/Day). :: If Xaviard fails a saving throw, he can choose to succeed instead.
** Actions
** Legendary Actions
** Lair Actions
** Spellcasting
is an -level spellcaster. It's spellcasting ability is (spell save DC , to hit with spell attacks).
has the following wizard spells prepared:
*** Cantrips
-
*** 1^st
-
*** 2^nd
-
*** 3^rd
-
*** 4^th
-
*** 5^th
-
*** 6^th
-
*** 7^th
-
*** 8^th
-
*** 9^th
-

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#+TITLE: Villan Ideas
#+OPTIONS: num:nil toc:1
#+STARTUP: entitiespretty
* Xaviard
See: [[xaviard.html]]

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#+TITLE: Xaviard: The Mad Artificer
#+OPTIONS: num:nil toc:1
#+STARTUP: entitiespretty
* Synopsis
* Xaviard
/medium construct/humanoid, neutral evil/
- Armor Class :: 19
- Hit Points :: 162 (18d8+18)
- Speed :: 30ft., fly 30ft. (hover)
| STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
|-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----|
| 10 | 16 | 13 | 20 | 14 | 16 |
| 0 | 3 | 1 | 5 | 2 | 3 |
#+TBLFM: @3=floor((@2-10)/2)
- Saving Throws :: INT+12, WIS+9
- Damage Resisistances :: Cold, Lightning, Necrotic, Bludgeoning, Piecing, Slashing
- Damage Immunities :: Force, Poison, Radiant, Necrotic
- Condition Immunities :: Charmed, Frightened, Paralyzed, Poisoned
- Senses :: Blindsight 120ft; Passive Perception 19
- Languages :: Common, Elvish, Dwarvish, Draconic, Gnomish
** TODO Traits
- Legendary Resistance (3/Day). :: If Xaviard fails a saving throw, he can choose to succeed instead.
** TODO Actions
** TODO Legendary Actions
** TODO Lair Actions
** Spellcasting
Xaviard is an 18th-level spellcaster. His spellcasting ability is Intelligence (spell save DC 20, +12 to hit with spell attacks).
Xaviard has the following wizard spells prepared:
*** Cantrips
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:booming-blade][Booming Blade]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:guidance][Guidance]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:lightning-lure][Lightning Lure]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:mending][Mending]]
*** 1^st
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:absorb-elements][Absorb Elements]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:alarm][Alarm]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:catapult][Catapult]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:cure-wounds][Cure Wounds]][fn:1]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:false-life][False Life]]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:healing-word][Healing Word]][fn:1]
*** 2^nd
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:guiding-bolt][Guiding Bolt]][fn:2]
- [[http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:heat-metal][Heat Metal]]
*** 3^rd
-
*** 4^th
-
*** 5^th
-
*** 6^th
-
*** 7^th
-
*** 8^th
-
*** 9^th
-
** Footnotes: Xaviard
[fn:1] (at-will, Can only effect creatures with the /construct/ tag, ignores regular spell restrictions)
* Clockwork Spider
:PROPERTIES:
:CUSTOM_ID: clockwork-spider
:END:
/Large construct, neutral evil/
- Armor Class :: 16 (Metal plating)
- Hit Points :: 30 (4d10+5)
- 30ft, climb 30ft ::
| STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
|-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----|
| 15 | 15 | 17 | 1 | 12 | 4 |
| 2 | 2 | 3 | -5 | 1 | -3 |
#+TBLFM: @3=floor((@2-10)/2)
- Skills :: Acrobatics +7
- Senses :: Tremorsense 20ft., Darkvision 60ft., Passive Perception 11
- Languages :: Can understand all languages of its creator, but cannot speak.
- Challenge :: 1 (200XP)
- Proficiency Bonus :: +2
** Traits
- Spider Climb. :: The clockwork spider can climb difficult surfaces, including upside down on ceilings,
without needing to make an ability check.
- Web Walker. :: The clockwork spider ignores movement restrictions caused by webbing.
** Actions
- Bite :: /Melee Weapon Attack:/ +5 to hit, reach 5ft., one creature. /Hit:/ 6 (2d4+2) piercing damage,
and the target must make a DC 12 Constitution saving throw, taking 8 (4d4) damage force damage on a
failed save, and half as much on a successful one.
- Paralyzing Bolt /(Recharge 5-6)/ :: /Ranged Weapon Attack:/ +5 to hit, range 30/60ft, one creature.
/Hit:/ The target is paralyzed. As an action, the paralyzed target can make a DC 12 wisdom check, freeing
themselves from the effects of the spell.
* Clockwork Reanimation

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![/img/ucbanner.gif]
*Net of Dreams* has 3 different modes of play, Combat, Freeroad, and Netdelve.
The core dice systems for Freeroad and Combat both revolve around a d20, while the Netdelve mode uses a d8 dice pool.

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h1. Net of Dreams
Part TTRPG, part structured glossolalia, _Net of Dreams_ is a New Wierd cyberpunk game where you play as post-humans in a symbiotic relationship with their technology.
h2. Links
- "Intro":intro.html := An introduction into the setting, and the TTRPG's founding document. Composed in a single evening of intense concentration.
- "Mechanics":crunch.html := The mechanics of the TTRPG itself. !/img/ucbug.gif!

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Humanity have collectively lost their memories after an event known the great wipe, every record about its past up to this point has been destroyed or deleted. For whatever reason, people can bend their reality by using their preimplanted AR cyberware that most are simply born with. They find themselves in mile-high skyscrapers surrounded by flying cars with no knowledge of how they came to be.
Straggling guilds and factions have been set up following what they believed the gods of the prior world to be.
*The merchant*, a god of commerce, food, and growth, their colours are orange and white. They attract those who seek to trade, and found corporations. The zealots succumb to an affliction where they covet everything, valuable or not.
*The communicator*, a god of liasonry and speech, the least popular of the triarchy, their colours are blue and white, and they attract those who seek to be social influencers. The zealots seek fame above all else, to the point of distorting their bodies into grotesque parodies of beauty.
*The seeker*, a god of knowledge and lost things, their colours are red and purple, and they attract those who seek knowledge and information. The zealots gain an addiction to the gathering of information, regarless of ethics or relevancy.
*The lover*, a buxom goddess with pink hair and wide eyes, notable for having a gender and a distinct image. her colours are pink and red, and she attracts those who wish to have love in their lives, as well as those who wish to seek beauty. Her holy symbols are lightly burnt bread, a female sailor's uniform, and a stylised image of a rabbit. the zealots among her ranks slowly become obsessed with her to the point they slowly dissapear into the dreamNET, never to be found again.
Followers of these gods are able to bend reality by utilising their faith as a weapon, the image of the gods imprinting themselves onto them in some way. Others can bend reality by tapping into the dreamNET, a post-internet form of technology that has somehow managed to become magical. For some reason, those who are born without implants are wholly unaffected by the incantations and spells weaved by those who manipulate the dreamNET.
After the flash, groups of people formed to try and rebuild the society that stood so tall. A few of them formed into factions.
the *Churches*, the three holy churches of the postmodern gods, considered separate organisations, but commonly lumped together as a single faction.
the *Postmodern League*, a collection of savants and mages that revere technology as a means to true apotheosis, some within this faction claim to be building their own god. This faction are the most adept at weaving the dreamNET into what they wish it to be, some are able to affect the dreamNET without a single implant.
the *Hatreds*, who revere a dark, obscure god of violence and division, they seek to carve up the world by force and cull anyone who seeks to oppose them. Most are loud, boorish and uncooperative, preferring to simply kill anyone that looks different from them rather than diplomatically communicate.
the *Threads*, a group of eccentric folk who seek to unite the world via an ancient method of poetry called "rap", they wield the dreamNET via this form of poetry, and settle any disputes amongst themselves via such. they are a staunch meritocracy valuing their skill in this medium, and they are opposed to the control of corperations. Most revere a god that was thought to be an ancestor of their group.
the *Lost Leaves*, an optimistic group reveling in tales of a thing called "nature", they seek to wield the dreamNET in order to restore it to how it once was. notable for being a faction with zealots who reject all technology.
the *Tetri Karebi*, a loose gathering of raiders and bandits who focus on speed and striking fast in order to disorient their targets. They, like some of the Lost Leaves, distrust the power of the dreamNET. Most find them more pleasant as the Hatreds, if not just as brutal at times.
the *seven Kri'ens*, a mercantile federation composed of seven corperations who act as a single, if independent, unit, they supply most goods, they are second-only to the tavern bards in terms of cultural dominence, they are also one of the few factions that have been able to recover any form of flying technology larger than a zephyr (a viehicle similar to what was once called a "car").
the *Tavern Bards*, a network of cells spread all across the dreamNET utilising it to provide entertainment and escapism to the general populus. Most of their immerse nodes are focused around retrieved stories of the "fantasy" genre, and most Tavern Bards pattern themselves after characters in these works.
the *Valens*, a decentralised quasi-religion focussed around mastery of the guitar, most form loose groups, called "Bands", and weave the dreamNET via this instrument. They are showy, ostentatious, and are regarded as the second faction that despises corperate control.
* * *
Humanity is not as unified as it once was, a myriad of appearances, statures and complexions, anihilating any trace of homogeneity. One may have horns sprouting from their head, pointed ears, or even a bestial visage. Due to the nature of the dreamNET, one with the right talents may be able to change their appearance on the fly, and adapt to their situation as seen fit. Most within this world seek to survive, rather than to thrive, the knowlege of how to access the luxuries of the past have long since been forgotten. Humanity had been reborn into frightened animals with access to a technology that seems almost eldritch in it's application and useage, and the scars and salves of the past are still laid bare for most of humanity, even if how they got there is entirely faded. Things have slowly began to echo the near past, but in a way that would seem strange, and warped to people before the flash.
The dreamNET itself acts as a repository of human thoughts, emotions, and aspirations, it is simultaneously a metaverse, the akashic records of occult myth, as well as a physical astral plane that anyone may access at any time. One, with enough time, patience, and skill, may wholly immerse themselves within the dreamNET, and connect to boundless worlds, some long abandoned, some newly created, and some that just appear to be present with no explanation, most of these worlds are called "immerse nodes", after exhumed documents labeling them as such.
Sometimes, entities lurk within the dreamNET, almost a form of technothaumic artificial intelligence. Some of these AI appear to be reflections of humanity as a whole, their hopes, fears and dreams made manifest into a digital body that seeks to collect more of the emotions they claim to represent, some utilise powers sent to them from these artificial creations to their own benefit, which according to various factions, may be something that is frowned upon. Sometimes, what appear to be the conciousnesses of those who have passed away appear within the dreamNET, wholly aware of their surroundings. How such entities came to be, like how the dreamNET can effect reality, remains a mystery for nearly the entirety of humanity; most simply choose to not question it, like how sometimes water falls out of the sky.
Technology within this world appears to be partways magical, sometimes assuming forms echoing that of a wizard from a "fantasy" novel. A wand made out of plastic and metal, with a hologram of flames may be used as a weapon to hurl fire, a tablet may be used to store programs that effect the shape of a person, or jaunt them to a new location, other times technology may find itself echoing the speculation of how the future of the distant past would look in some way, shape, or form, taking the form of superpowered pocket computers, advanced cybernetics, and directed energy weaponry, the classical model of webpages and media still lives on within this age, and many vy for this ancient medium's control.
Humanity awoke to skyscrapers, densly packed and sometimes mile-high, with signs scrawled in dead langauges refering to concepts and cultures long since forgotten by all bar them. The average human lives in a single domicile of varying size and disrepair, most "tows", as they are called, are grouped together, and run the gamut of faction control and representation, some have been entirely coopted by a single faction who chooses to dominate that single tow.

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h1. Main
- "Introduction":intro.html := A rough introduction to the setting.
- "Infopages":inf := Wiki-style info pages about different topics within the setting.
- Homebrew Races !/img/ucbug.gif! := Various different races used in Elysium's Edge.

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# Infopages of the Elysium's Edge Setting
Welcome to the knowledgebase of the *Elysium's Edge* setting.
# Index
## Planets
- Earth !/img/ucbug.gif!
- Moon !/img/ucbug.gif!
- Mars
## Megacorperations
### Big 3
- Beyond
- Stellar
- Rahat
### Lesser
- Keunsan
- Ginsei
- Hidalgo

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# Mars

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# The Solar System
The main focus of the setting, sort of along the lines of the Sword Coast in Forgotten Realms,
or Seattle in Shadowrun.
The Solar system in Elysium's Edge is a vast, tonally diverse subsetting,
with each planet providing a different feel.
## Earth
> Fuyoh, abe, we're homebound and we're still eating gummy. I can't believe it...
## Moon
![img/flag/moon-small.png]
> That a hein's cake, brat. We juwet, Dustball here is OB and he's ordered us put.
Up until about 50 years ago, the Moon was a straw libertarian's paradise.
Lavish resorts, caviar, corperation-owned infastructure, the Moon was seen as a shining symbol of Adam Smith's invisible hand...
Up until the revolution happened.
![img/flag/lunar-revolution-small.png]
## Mars
> Amige, sori, te llamo p'atras, Boss is asking me about the Shtaubman in the LBM's office.
Mars is the Americas, as the Americas were to Europe.
A shining beacon of hope and industry with dreams of their own identity.
## Saturn
> Good work, team. That's enough for today. Can't believe we've come so far.
The most inhospitable colonised planet, Saturn's entire population consists mainly of miners and researchers,
with a notable exception being a single sports stadium.

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<span class="b u">見ぬが花:人類がファンタジーに陥りかけている宇宙</span>
# Intro
> The year is 2721, Mankind has established colonies on the Moon and Mars, and plan to expand to other planets, as well. Hyperspace
technology has been developed with the use of a newly discovered force called "Thauma", which allows seemingly magical effects that
defy the laws of physics with minimal effort. Biological engineering and nanotechnology have evolved to the point where people can
rewrite their DNA and appearances on the fly, and humans have evolved and genewarped into separate species over the last few centuries.
Megacorperations and nations jostle for control of a new force and planetary territory, while something ancient since awakened stirs
from an ancient sleep in a realm beyond the stars.
As this setting was initially kludged around the mechanics and setting of Dungeons and Dragons 5^th edition, a lot of concepts and
races are heavily inspired, or are directly taken from settings typical of that system, as a result, only 4 of the 7 core races are
actually playable, with nearly all of the legacy core races being playable. This setting also adds or reskins certain races.
# Playable Races
**See:** [races.html](races.html)
# Initial Plot
> You will be starting on Moonbase 1, dubbed *Crisey* by the locals. Due to reasons outside of your control, you have somehow found
yourself stranded on the moon, and wish to get off of it. The moon is a dangerous place, full of sin, debauchery and crime, ruled
over by a belligerent, constantly-bickering & loosely-connected oligarchy that has a habit of vying for eachother's territory, who
are known to them as the "Barons". True to the old tradition, you've all found eachother sitting at the same table
in a local pub, and are starting to talk about how you've all fallen on hard times.

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#+title: Elysium's Edge: Slang Dictionary
#+author: Atlas Cove
#+options: num:nil
#+startup: content entitiespretty align
/Wouldn't be a sci-fi cyberpunk setting without one.../
* Earth
- Abe :: n. (from Japanese, 『相棒』, Aibō, "pal", accomplice) Friend, partner, "bro".
- Drokk :: n. Euphamism for "shit".
- Fuyoh :: excl. (from Hokkien, 『水喔』, via Malay) expression of surprise and admiration.
- Gahyo :: excl. (from Cantonese, 『加油』, add oil) Go for it, godspeed, come on.
- Gummy :: n. (influenced by Japanese, 『ごみ』, trash) Low quality synthetic food.
- Haiya :: excl. (from Hokkien, 『哎呀』, via Malay) expression of surprise and dissapointment.
- Pulcot :: n./adj. (from Korean, 『불꽃』, sparkle), Kitchy over-the-top-ness.
* Moon
- Brat :: n. (from Russian, "брат", brother) Friend, partner, bro, implies the listener is in the same group as the speaker.
- Bone :: adj. (from Polari, "Bona", "good") Cool, awesome, dope.
- Cake :: n. (from Japanese, 『計画』, "plan") plan, scheme, idea.
- Gijer :: n. (from Japanese, 『外人』, influenced by romani "Gadzhe") Outsider, esp. of the moon.
- Hein :: n. (from Robert A. Heinlein, author of /The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress/), A person who is hopeful to the point of being naive.
- Jacks :: adj. (from Polari, "Ajax") Near.
- Nico :: n. uncountable (from Italian, "Organico", personnel), Staff of a buisness
- OB :: n. (from Japanese, 『親分』, *O*ya*b*un), boss
- Juwet :: n. A lunar native.
- Tikker :: excl. (from Hindi, ठीक हैं, "is right") Understood, perfect, OK.
** Numbers
The moon has it's own counting system
1. Una
2. Dwi
3. Tri
4. Kwat
5. Chink
6. Dit
7. Seb
8. Ot
9. Novh
10. Jech
* Mars
Mars has been settled by an equal number of Spanish and English speaking settlers, who have converged to create their own language, locally dubbee "Syano".
Martian Spanish is notable for having a neuter case ("-e") for any animate noun.
- Aus :: adv. (from German, aus, out) Outside.
- Chergri :: n. (from Llanito, Echegarai), Guard, Watchman
- Pane :: n. Good friend, pal.
- Shtaubman :: n. German-speaking minority.
- Syane :: (Corrupted from Spanish, Marciano), Martian native.
* Other
- Homebound :: n. Someone from Earth.
- Delve :: n. A generic term for Direct Neural Interface VR, derived from a genericised trademark.
- Delve :: v. To use a delver
- Delver :: n. A device that uses the Delve technology.

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_Welcome to the Atlas48 Archives!_
!img/ucbanner.gif(Construction is coming along smoothly.)!
Everything's slowly being set up, I'm working on the layout as I go along, hopefully you'll be able to find your way.
In a nutshell, this is sort of a read-only wiki, as compared to some of the other, more fancier sites on here.
The spartan look _does_ mean that this can be rendered 1-1 on even the most bare-bones browser.
h1. Links
h2. D&D
- "Antagonist Ideas":dnd/villains.html !img/ucbug.gif! := Different Antagonist ideas to use in your games.
h2. Starfinder
- "Elysium's Edge":ee := Homebrew Starfinder setting.
h2. Downloads
* "My PGP Key":dl/atlas48.asc
---
"!neocities.png(Love this place.)!":https://neocities.org./
!img/88x31/anydamn.gif! !img/88x31/amiga_friendly.gif! !img/88x31/anybrowser3.gif!

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<h1>404</h1>
<p><strong>Page not found.</strong></p>
<p>The requested page could not be found.</p>

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Sitemap: https://atlas48.neocities.org/sitemap.xml
User-Agent: *
Allow: /
Crawl-delay: 1

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There they were. The arches, towering like spires, the wood around, still serene. It was a miracle that they still stood after all this time.
I couldn't believe it. I had come so far, and yet, there was still so, so much that I had yet to do.
I stopped. I smiled.
I took a breath in, the late-autumn air, crisp on my lungs.
You'd think it all dead and frozen in this age, but those birds still soldiered on, unseen. At least I had that.
Something had to be done. Something must be done.
I grasped the small leather bag in my hand, a small clack as the contents collided. I approached the arches, their shape beckoning me forth, as if the old structure's
walls stood standing. I felt cautious, hand to my shortsword as I approached...
I saw it. The altar. It was a large, stone altar. Vines of ivy intruded onto it's space, snaking and coursing, like the overgrowth on rest of the arches I saw
up-close. I readied my blade, and with the mightiest of effort, vanquished the common ivy from the top of the altar. I examined the top of the altar, 3 slots, each for
one of the gems. I rushed to the leather bag, and fumbled, my hands shaking from both the cold, and the fear and excitement of it all. I just had to set everything
into the right place, now. It all felt so complicated, but, in truth, it was just matching shapes.
First, the gem of Oak, a small, luminescent green acorn. I set it upon the right slot, and it began to softly florese.
Next, the gem of Ash, a sparkling shard the shape of a samara, the colours within churning and shifting.
Finally, the gem of Thorn, a small red pip fashioned into a haw.
It was time, I set it upon the altar, and waited. The altar moved back, revealing a staircase underneath. I produced a torch from my pack, whispered the incantation,
and let it erupt into flames. I put one foot forward onto the step, then another, delving into that world below that I heard so much about.

View File

@ -1,22 +0,0 @@
<pre>
There they were. The arches, towering like spires, the wood around, still serene. It was a miracle that they still stood after all this time.
I couldn't believe it. I had come so far, and yet, there was still so, so much that I had yet to do.
I stopped. I smiled.
I took a breath in, the late-autumn air, crisp on my lungs.
You'd think it all dead and frozen in this age, but those birds still soldiered on, unseen. At least I had that.
Something had to be done. Something must be done.
I grasped the small leather bag in my hand, a small clack as the contents collided. I approached the arches, their shape beckoning me forth, as if the old structure's
walls stood standing. I felt cautious, hand to my shortsword as I approached...
I saw it. The altar. It was a large, stone altar. Vines of ivy intruded onto it's space, snaking and coursing, like the overgrowth on rest of the arches I saw
up-close. I readied my blade, and with the mightiest of effort, vanquished the common ivy from the top of the altar. I examined the top of the altar, 3 slots, each for
one of the gems. I rushed to the leather bag, and fumbled, my hands shaking from both the cold, and the fear and excitement of it all. I just had to set everything
into the right place, now. It all felt so complicated, but, in truth, it was just matching shapes.
First, the gem of Oak, a small, luminescent green acorn. I set it upon the right slot, and it began to softly florese.
Next, the gem of Ash, a sparkling shard the shape of a samara, the colours within churning and shifting.
Finally, the gem of Thorn, a small red pip fashioned into a haw.
It was time, I set it upon the altar, and waited. The altar moved back, revealing a staircase underneath. I produced a torch from my pack, whispered the incantation,
and let it erupt into flames. I put one foot forward onto the step, then another, delving into that world below that I heard so much about.
</pre>

View File

@ -1,64 +0,0 @@
It was pleasant for a summer night, not too chilly, not suffocating in that way summer nights tend to be.
Northumbria tends to be a grim old place, so this warmth was rather odd. Odd, but most certainly appreciated.
The only thing I needed to do after that abysmal, grueling day was to settle down into bed.
I brushed my teeth, I donned my *tunic of sound sleep*, and let the covers rustle as I wormed my way in.
A brief pause, then, after all that time, I finally mananged to drift off...
A rapping on my window, and in all it's tried and tested glory, it came from outside, with my bedroom being on the second floor.
Bloody hell, I'm awake, with some spectre doing God-knows-what.
I burrowed my way out, and trudged to the aformentioned window. A figure was beckoning me out. A vague one, too.
Oh whatever, a night walk would do me good, I thought. I paced downstairs, donned my nightgown and slippers, remembered the front door key,
and fumbled with that infernal contraption they named "the front door lock".
Upon opening the door, I managed to see the figure a little more clearly:
Horns, hooves, and what appeared to be a beard.
Oh thank the heavens, this was most likely a dream.
The figure moved away, I began my persuit, an arduous one at that. It seemed to almost glide across the uneven terrain, hopping along each little hill and hillock.
Of course, I was yet to master this technique, and had to make do with awkwardly stumbling over tuffets, rocks, and sheep dung. I swear I heard the bastard
chuckle over this. Why don't you try walking the ordinary way, then? See how you feel about being dragged out of the warmest, softest bed in
the county to wherever in these barren hills you're taking me.
I still felt I had to trudge on, I didn't have anything better to do, this was a dream after all, and the alternative was waking up in
the middle of the night, bleary-eyed and with the abillity to drain Ullswater, only to then dream about Ms MacDonald chewing me out for my
maths homework, *yet again*.
Crunch, crack, creak. I settled into a nice rhythm, felt nice to almost hike again. Looks like I was being lead towards Hadrian's wall.
Figures. A greco-roman character, and a roman wall. I saw that old sycamore tree. He was standing under it. Honestly, looking back,
it was beautiful, even picturesque, dare I say.
The tree shrouded in shadow, the stars twinkling, it was like something you'd see some artist spend weeks on.
I made my last few steps forward, and was greeted with "Evening, Richard". Blighter knew my name. "Well, it's a little past evening, isn't it?"
He smiled, "Come closer, it's been a while since I had a nice chat with a mortal." I obliged, seemed like a pleasant-enough figure.
"Well, why drag me all the way out here, in the middle of the night?"
"The view, a lot of people take their surroundings for granted." He stretched. "Maybe it's also because I feel like you're good for something."
My face furrowed, "Good for what?" "Let's not get into that right now. How about we talk about your day instead?" He plopped down beneath the tree,
while I let out a grown, groan a la teenager, "Awful, simply awful." "I'm grinding away at the same bloody computer for hours on end, entering in rows upon
rows of crap into a spreadsheet when I know for a fact a computer could do my occupation far better, far more efficiently, and yet our IT department refuses
to take the crayons out of their ears in order to salvage me from that hellhole."
"Sounds rough." I didn't know if that was smarminess, or understanding, hard to tell in the low light. "Hopefully you appreciated a bit of a night walk to clear
your head?" "Honestly, yes." This grin, where did it come from? It clearly wasn't mine. He must have dropped it. "Have you ever thought about leaving?"
"Heavens no, I'd starve!" I replied, giving the grin back to it's rightful owner. "Then... why exactly are you living *here?*"
I struggled for a response, a glancing blow on my worldview.
He continued, however, "think about it, plenty of ariable farmland, a nice easy way of getting food, and you're caged in a cubicle for a tax return
agency slowly letting your mind rot."
"It's my grandfather's place." Well, that came out meeker than I expected, not entirely on subject, too. "I understand where you're going with this,
but that's a risk, and I don't like risks."
"Well, why not?", he smiled, positively begging for an answer. I defended, "I don't like the prospect of sitting in a cardboard box in Newcastle
for the rest of my life while politicians call my misfortune a 'lifestyle choice'." Success, or so I believed. He lunged for that point with presicion,
"Couldn't you start by using some of the money from your occupation? Surely you can simply test the waters before committing, right?" Critical hit. I reeled.
"Yes. I could."
I realised I was arguing with a being about 2000 years more experienced with me. Great going, Rich, really showing you'd be as quick-witted as those protagonists
in those silly stories you read. I sighed. "Alright, you have my attention, you mentioned about being 'good for something', what were you talking about?"
"Well, we can start with the farm, first. I'll come back after you get everything sorted, and explain a little more."
A vague-speaking mentor character, how trite. Still, I could do with something else to do when I'm not working.
"Alright, where should I start?" I asked.
"R. Emley's. They've got some amazing supplies. They're south, near Walsby Green"
"I make no promises, but since my day off's tomorrow, I could pay a visit."
He held out his hand, "See you tomorrow night, then?" "I'll shake on that," and so I did.
He said he had nothing more to say, so, I trudged back to my house, slowly realising that I may have just made a pact with a Faerie god.
Regardless, I fumbled around with the Cursed Apperatus, flung my slippers and dressing gown off, and crashed in the manner of a mighty felled redwood in the direction
of my bed.
Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

View File

@ -1,66 +0,0 @@
<pre>
It was pleasant for a summer night, not too chilly, not suffocating in that way summer nights tend to be.
Northumbria tends to be a grim old place, so this warmth was rather odd. Odd, but most certainly appreciated.
The only thing I needed to do after that abysmal, grueling day was to settle down into bed.
I brushed my teeth, I donned my *tunic of sound sleep*, and let the covers rustle as I wormed my way in.
A brief pause, then, after all that time, I finally mananged to drift off...
A rapping on my window, and in all it's tried and tested glory, it came from outside, with my bedroom being on the second floor.
Bloody hell, I'm awake, with some spectre doing God-knows-what.
I burrowed my way out, and trudged to the aformentioned window. A figure was beckoning me out. A vague one, too.
Oh whatever, a night walk would do me good, I thought. I paced downstairs, donned my nightgown and slippers, remembered the front door key,
and fumbled with that infernal contraption they named "the front door lock".
Upon opening the door, I managed to see the figure a little more clearly:
Horns, hooves, and what appeared to be a beard.
Oh thank the heavens, this was most likely a dream.
The figure moved away, I began my persuit, an arduous one at that. It seemed to almost glide across the uneven terrain, hopping along each little hill and hillock.
Of course, I was yet to master this technique, and had to make do with awkwardly stumbling over tuffets, rocks, and sheep dung. I swear I heard the bastard
chuckle over this. Why don't you try walking the ordinary way, then? See how you feel about being dragged out of the warmest, softest bed in
the county to wherever in these barren hills you're taking me.
I still felt I had to trudge on, I didn't have anything better to do, this was a dream after all, and the alternative was waking up in
the middle of the night, bleary-eyed and with the abillity to drain Ullswater, only to then dream about Ms MacDonald chewing me out for my
maths homework, *yet again*.
Crunch, crack, creak. I settled into a nice rhythm, felt nice to almost hike again. Looks like I was being lead towards Hadrian's wall.
Figures. A greco-roman character, and a roman wall. I saw that old sycamore tree. He was standing under it. Honestly, looking back,
it was beautiful, even picturesque, dare I say.
The tree shrouded in shadow, the stars twinkling, it was like something you'd see some artist spend weeks on.
I made my last few steps forward, and was greeted with "Evening, Richard". Blighter knew my name. "Well, it's a little past evening, isn't it?"
He smiled, "Come closer, it's been a while since I had a nice chat with a mortal." I obliged, seemed like a pleasant-enough figure.
"Well, why drag me all the way out here, in the middle of the night?"
"The view, a lot of people take their surroundings for granted." He stretched. "Maybe it's also because I feel like you're good for something."
My face furrowed, "Good for what?" "Let's not get into that right now. How about we talk about your day instead?" He plopped down beneath the tree,
while I let out a grown, groan a la teenager, "Awful, simply awful." "I'm grinding away at the same bloody computer for hours on end, entering in rows upon
rows of crap into a spreadsheet when I know for a fact a computer could do my occupation far better, far more efficiently, and yet our IT department refuses
to take the crayons out of their ears in order to salvage me from that hellhole."
"Sounds rough." I didn't know if that was smarminess, or understanding, hard to tell in the low light. "Hopefully you appreciated a bit of a night walk to clear
your head?" "Honestly, yes." This grin, where did it come from? It clearly wasn't mine. He must have dropped it. "Have you ever thought about leaving?"
"Heavens no, I'd starve!" I replied, giving the grin back to it's rightful owner. "Then... why exactly are you living *here?*"
I struggled for a response, a glancing blow on my worldview.
He continued, however, "think about it, plenty of ariable farmland, a nice easy way of getting food, and you're caged in a cubicle for a tax return
agency slowly letting your mind rot."
"It's my grandfather's place." Well, that came out meeker than I expected, not entirely on subject, too. "I understand where you're going with this,
but that's a risk, and I don't like risks."
"Well, why not?", he smiled, positively begging for an answer. I defended, "I don't like the prospect of sitting in a cardboard box in Newcastle
for the rest of my life while politicians call my misfortune a 'lifestyle choice'." Success, or so I believed. He lunged for that point with presicion,
"Couldn't you start by using some of the money from your occupation? Surely you can simply test the waters before committing, right?" Critical hit. I reeled.
"Yes. I could."
I realised I was arguing with a being about 2000 years more experienced with me. Great going, Rich, really showing you'd be as quick-witted as those protagonists
in those silly stories you read. I sighed. "Alright, you have my attention, you mentioned about being 'good for something', what were you talking about?"
"Well, we can start with the farm, first. I'll come back after you get everything sorted, and explain a little more."
A vague-speaking mentor character, how trite. Still, I could do with something else to do when I'm not working.
"Alright, where should I start?" I asked.
"R. Emley's. They've got some amazing supplies. They're south, near Walsby Green"
"I make no promises, but since my day off's tomorrow, I could pay a visit."
He held out his hand, "See you tomorrow night, then?" "I'll shake on that," and so I did.
He said he had nothing more to say, so, I trudged back to my house, slowly realising that I may have just made a pact with a Faerie god.
Regardless, I fumbled around with the Cursed Apperatus, flung my slippers and dressing gown off, and crashed in the manner of a mighty felled redwood in the direction
of my bed.
Tomorrow was going to be interesting.
</pre>

View File

@ -1,6 +1,7 @@
#!/usr/bin/ruby
# pfiles.rb
# v1.0-p3
# v1.1-p1
abort "\x1B[1;31mERR\x1B[0m: No arguments supplied" if ARGV.length == 0
require 'find'
ignore=!File.file?('dat/ignore.txt') ? [] : File.readlines('dat/ignore.txt')
if ignore != []
@ -15,13 +16,12 @@ class Enumerator
return out
end
end
list=Find.find('in')
l=list.collect
l=Find.find('in').collect
case ARGV.first
when "doc"
for i in l do
next if ignore.include?(i) or /\.v.html/.match?(i)
if /\.(txti|org|md|html)$/.match?(i)
next if ignore.include?(i) or /(?<!\.e)\.html$/.match?(i)
if /\.(txti|org|md|e.html)$/.match?(i)
print i
print ' ' unless i==l.last
end
@ -36,7 +36,7 @@ when "sass"
end
when "dir"
for i in l do
next if ignore.include?(i)
next if ignore.include?(i) or i == ".git"
if File.directory?(i)
print i
print ' ' unless i==l.last
@ -51,4 +51,5 @@ when "rest"
end
end
else
abort "\x1B[1;31mERR\x1B[0m: Unknown option: #{ARGV.first}"
end

View File

@ -34,7 +34,7 @@ function docs {
inf "Rendering document files..."
for i in ${doc[@]}; do
o="${i/in/out}"
o="${o%.*}.html"
o="${o%%.*}.html"
echo "'$i' -> '$o'"
if test -z "${title[$i]}"; then
m4 -D_INFILE="$i" -DCSSI=$(awk -f awk/getsd.awk <<< "$i") m4/main.html.m4 > $o
@ -52,23 +52,21 @@ function sassfn {
sass --no-source-map in/css:out/css
}
function other {
local other=`./pfiles.rb rest`
local o other=`./pfiles.rb rest`
for i in $other; do
if test -f $i; then
o=${i/in/out}
if test -f $o; then
inf "Skipping $i, file/hardlink exists..."
continue
fi
ln -v $i ${i/in/out}
ln -v $i $o
done
}
function sitemap {
./gensimap.sh
}
function all {
load_title
dirs
docs
sass
sassfn
other
}
function info {
@ -110,6 +108,7 @@ if test -z "$*"; then
exit $?
fi
case $1 in
clean) rm -rf out;;
dir) dirs;;
doc) docs;;
docs) docs;;
@ -117,10 +116,13 @@ case $1 in
other) dirs; other;;
rest) other;;
info) info;;
sitemap) sitemap;;
sitemap) ./sitemap.sh;;
vall) info; all;;
all) all;;
*) all;;
*)
err "Invalid option, $1"
exit 1
;;
esac
#E: Logic
exit $?