# RPG A DAY 2025: Day 13 - Darkness tags: #thoughts #thoughts/RPGaDay/2025 #game/rpg/starforged ![[RPG a Day 2025 (illo).png]] > ***Yrgen Antalos*** *([[Ironsworn - Starforged|Starforged]])* > > - **Stats:** 1 +edge, 1 +heart, 2 +iron, 3 +shadow, 2 +wits > - **Gauges:** 2 +momentum, 5 +health, 5 +spirit, 5 +supply > - **Assets:** Lore Hunter, Scavenger, Tech, Starship (5 +hull) > - **Vow:** Reveal the secrets of the Archon's Fist (Formidable) > **Threat:** The ship is breaking up Yrgen cursed as he brought the Enigmatic Whisper around for another sweep of the looming exterior of the Archon's Fist. The blackened scores along the port side gave mute testimony to the pirate attack that forced her to make a dangerous translation through the eidolon, a bad decision that dropped the sullen corpse of the ship out here at the edge of the expanse, too far to tow her home and far enough that only a true fool of a scavenger would try to take something from her bony grasp. > **Derelict Archon's Fist** > > - **Location:** Deep Space > - **Type:** Cargo Ship > - **Condition:** Damaged or breached > - **Outer first look:** Hazardous readings Yrgen was just such a fool. He knew it was folly, but the money was too good to pass up. Someone wanted something in that ship, and they wanted it badly enough to pay to keep the Whisper running for months. It'd keep him fed and sleeping in a bed rather than a narrow, cold bunk. It might even pay for companionship while he did so if he was careful with the money. Yrgen was not careful with money. He was, however, careful with his ship and would never start attaching to the side of an unknown without at least a visual inspection and scan. The bulk was already splintering at places that had clearly taken heavy fire during the escape. The pirates wanted it *extremely* badly to risk the cargo like that. Unless they knew it couldn't be destroyed by anything so crude. > **Inner first look**: Thick haze or smoke, Signs of looting or scavenging > > **Undertake an Expedition** > > **Strong hit**: 2 + 2 (wits) = **4** vs **1**, **1**. Match event: **Assault Labor**. > > Mark a waypoint (1/10). The main cargo port was shockingly free of destruction. As the Whisper shifted around, the projection of the bay glimmered in silver and blue threads projected on the HUD. Attempts were made to keep this place intact during the initial assault. More scarring looked almost like serrated teeth about the opening and the automated arms and grapples were never going to work again, but Yrgen had been in derelict ships before. They seldom did. This would do. The Whisper glided in to the massive cavern and fastened itself in place with long, thick coils of monofilament and electromagnets. The solid \*thunk thunk\* of relays gave the ship a reassuring feeling of solidity, but it was illusory. The clock was ticking on how long it would hold together. It was like a mesh of springs in tight tension when you begin cutting wires. Yrgen dragged his suit into place with a practiced reluctance. The damn thing was almost as old as the Whisper, thus much older than *him*. Like the ship, it should serve until something better came along. Moving in the bulky suit was annoying but not much of an impediment as he made his way through the remains of broken loaders to the personnel door. It *should* lead into the cargo offices. With any luck, they would have manifests, logs, the works for anyone looking for tasty treats. The tech kit flipped out from his arm and he began laboriously checking for power remnants and locks to open the way. > **Secure an Advantage** > > **Weak hit**: 3 + 2 (wits) + 1 = **6** vs **6**, **1**. > > Using *Tech* to reroll to add +2. > > **Weak hit**: 6 + 2 (wits) + 2 = **10** vs **1**, **10**. The damn door balked. Electronics whined as the last dregs hanging about in batteries and capacitors faded; there was obviously no power being generated out the conduits out here were less than functional. Yrgen snarled and thumped the side of the panel in frustration, shaking loose some vacuum-welded delicates within, and the door shuddered open just widely enough that he could shove it, grunting and panting, wide enough to enter. The cargo offices were as large as one might expect for a ship the size of a hab block made almost entirely of cargo racks the size of lesser ships themselves. More of an office building unto itself, and only the faintest echoes of power flickering around in the circuits. There was no chance it was still pressurized this close to the attack on the cargo port, so he was denied the pleasure of at least opening his helmet. His helmet and shoulder lights sliced through the gloom, revealing further doors to be opened. This might take a fair bit. > **Gather Information** > > **Miss**: 1 + 2 (wits) = **3** vs **4**, **9**. > > *Pay the Price:* Threat advances It took an hour and at the end of it, Yrgen was disheartened. The lack of power made the systems entirely unresponsive, but worse, the state of the ship was far worse than he thought. There was nothing here but clear evidence of deeply penetrating shots that exploded within the rear of the offices themselves. Corpses in various states of vacuum-drying were heaped by the rents, caught on equipment, walls, under desks, in tangles of gear. It was best not to look, he knew, so he didn't. Time to move on and seek better opportunities. He steeled himself to wrestle with more doors. > **Undertake an Expedition** > > **Miss**: 4 + 2 (wits) = **6** vs **10**, **7**. > > No progress, immediate hardship or threat at arrival, *Pay the Price:* Threat increases, +supply -1 (4) > > **Derelict Archon's Fist's Ship Spine** > > - **Zone:** Access > - **Area:** Corridor > - **Peril:** Leave Peace > - **Descriptor focus:** Biological Force > [!note] Editor's Note > > For the record, I just realized that the `Gather Information` move could have taken a bit of a boost from my *Scavenger* asset. I also need to remember that *Lore Hunter* gives us a bit of a +momentum boost when we reach a milestone along the way here. Not that there's much threat of that at this point. The obvious place to start looking deeper was to make his way up to the thick ship's spine, the main transport and reinforcement line of the vessel, full of broad corridors through which men and machines moved the life's blood of the region, between stowage and ports. The area near the cargo port he'd come in was a shattered mess. If it were a living being, it would be paralyzed from the hips up. There was no doubt this ship was dead; even with a fleet of salvagers, it couldn't be towed to dock. At best, it could be fallen upon like piranhas on a fresh kill, carved up gobbet by gobbet and swallowed. For a spacer, it was worse than the sight of a dozen corpses. This was once a magnificent beast, now laid low. Whoever did this, Yrgen thought, was a savage of the worst order. There was nothing for it. He'd have to use it as best he could to go further. Maybe there was something left to find. His contract said so - but who would know? > **Undertake an Expedition** > > **Miss**: 2 + 2 (wits) = **4** vs **10**, **10**. Match event: **Protect Renown**. > > **Derelict Archon's Fist's Ops Rec Deck** > > - **Zone:** Operations > - **Area:** Lounge > - **Peril:** Sensors indicate the arrival of an external threat > - **Descriptor focus:** Infested Grave The interior of the rec deck should have been empty, but it was full of more of the dead. Corpses, some in vac suits, some just in civvies, were stacked in cruel heaps near the doors, as if they had been sealed in, left to claw at the walls, each other, to get out. Some of them appeared to have died from that very cause, at the hands of their fellow travelers, desperate to get free. It wasn't just the usual skeleton crew of men; these were families; men, women, and children who were locked in here and killing each other. But why? Yrgen had heard tales of people driven mad by long time spent in space, staring at the bleak dark, but he'd only found comfort there. Was this *that* madness? But why were there families on this massive *cargo ship* which was pirate-riven? Too many questions and not enough time. This was the sort of thing that got men killed when they asked questions. Was the Fist's captain smuggling fugitives? Slaves? Who could say? Whatever it was, someone'd pay to keep silent but that butcher's bill might be the value of his life. The soft chime of the sensor relay from the Whisper gave him the first intimation of danger. The ship showed an overlay of the system and an eidolon point right on the fringe. Someone was slipping into the system. It was too far out to get a read on and they *might* not be coming to the Fist, but it was worth keeping an eye on. It would be a bit until it would be pressing, anyway. > **Create clock: Sensor ping in system** > **Progress:** 0/6 If there was more information to be found, operations would be the place to look. He decided to keep digging, hoping to see no more dead families but fearing that even if he didn't stumble on more, he'd see those for the rest of his life when he closed his eyes. > **Undertake an Expedition** > > **Miss**: 1 + 2 (wits) = **3** vs **8**, **3**. > > **Derelict Archon's Fist's Armory** > > - **Zone:** Operations > - **Area:** Armory > - **Peril:** Discouraging evidence of failed plans or defenses > - **Descriptor focus:** Subsurface Route > > Threat increases to 4, *Pay the Price:* +supply drops to 3, +spirit -1 to 4. The ops deck was twisted by whatever force had shattered the spine, making the trip through the tightened corridors feel like clambering deeper into the crevices of a corpse. When Yrgen came on signage pointing the way to the reinforced doors of the armory, he felt a sense of relief. That didn't last long. Around the door was more of the dead, caught in the very act of screaming, clawing, dragging themselves toward the door in a big, tangled wave. Whoever was defending it from inside had used the bulkhead well, criss-crossed fields of fire through the doorway scattering scorches, bodies, and death for as long as they could. There was pressure then; no one was wearing a helmet. The cacophony must've been awful. > **Endure Stress** > > **Strong hit**: 6 + 4 (spirit) = **10** vs **8**, **1**. > > Embrace the darkness for +1 momentum (3). The doorway had not held. Yrgen saw the bodies within, the scatter of weapons. There might be good money to be made in selling the remnants of the armory - but that'd be for a man with a stronger stomach than him. He was too storied a hand to vomit in his suit but he felt his gorge rise and turned away, sickened. There had to be something here, some clue. > **Derelict Archon's Fist's Command Deck** > > - **Zone:** Operations > - **Area:** Admin or command offices > - **Descriptor focus:** Functional Trap > > **Undertake an Expedition** > > **Weak hit**: 3 + 2 (wits) = **5** vs **5**, **3**. > > Progress goes up by 1 (2/10), +2 momentum (5) > > *Suffer costs en route:* Sensor clock advances (2/6), -1 supply (2) The ship seemed almost determined to stymie him. Collapsed passageways in ops made actual progress slow and uncertain. The blip on the sensors was still out there, moving closer, but perhaps that was just happenstance. It takes time to recharge the eidolon; maybe they were just passing through. Of more pressing concern were his suit batteries; power was getting short and nothing was as bad as being deep in a derelict with no lights. That could kill you faster than the vacuum itself. He was just contemplating how many ways there were to die out there, unknown and unheard, when he clambered past a crushed bulkhead and face to face with a heavy bolt-thrower emplacement and its glowing red indicator. Glowing. Battery powered. This might be a good time to duck back and hope the damned thing hadn't seen him. That part was easy. Perhaps too easy. Was it frozen up in the cold and lack of air, a red eyed sentinel staring into darkness until it died in long years hence? There was only one thing to do. He had to risk something cunning. A loose piece of wall would do. He'd toss it around the corner into its field of fire and if it went after the thing, he'd jump around and try to go around it, maybe disable it. > **Face Danger** > > **Strong hit**: 3 + 3 (shadow) = **6** vs **3**, **3**. Match event: **Protect Blood**. > > +1 momentum (6) The thing was still alive, grinding as it turned to track the bit of debris sailing in front of its digital face down the corridor. The only light was the scything beams of Yrgen's suit, the baleful eye of the turret, and the bright lances of the bolts crashing through the void at hypersonic speed, splintering off the already damaged walls. Yrgen was quick, spinning around the bulkhead support as the bursts worked the other way. He immediately saw the cut-off on the thing, an oversized switch intended for handling with gloves. It was quick work to turn it off, the red fading to a low pulsing green. There was still power in it. Could he leech it off to feed his suit a little longer? The tech kit was out and in his gloves almost before the idea was done forming. > **Resupply** > > **Strong hit**: 3 + 2 (wits) + 2 = **7** vs **5**, **4**. > +2 supply (4) The connectors for power were easy; the turret made for military use so it was rugged and simple enough for soldiers to use it under fire. He leeched the battery dry into his own and watched the green light pulse slower and slower. This made the second time he'd seen heavy artillery on the Archon's Fist, but why was it here? There were deeply troublesome things afoot, things way over the paygrade of a solo scavenger. If there were answers, they'd be here in the admin section, surely. Rummaging through offices was less than flashy, but scavengers spent a lot of time in the boring parts of dead ships. That is, after all, where the juiciest secrets were often kept, the ones you could carry in a datastick or in your head. He moved on to the next office. > **Explore a Waypoint** > > **Miss**: 2 + 2 (wits) = **4** vs **7**, **6**. > *Pay the Price:* You are delayed or put at a disadvantage. (Threat advances, 5/10) The shuddering deck sent the message to his feet before his eyes could be much use, the corridor that followed the edge of the admin area suddenly crushed as if a giant fist had tired of toying with him and simply wanted to communicate a direct message: *move on*. The rear half of the spine must've twisted further, relieving its own stress and sending pressure cascading through the bulkheads and corridors of the ship on the verge of turning into debris. Yrgen could take a message phrased so eloquently. Perhaps the administrators weren't going to give up their secrets so easily, or perhaps the ship would rather such tales not be told about it. Undeterred but more cautious, the salvager moved with a bit more care, looking for something, anything, of use. > **Undertake an Expedition** > > **Weak hit**: 2 + 3 (shadow) = **5** vs **3**, **5**. > *Suffer costs en route:* -2 spirit (2) > Advance progress (3/10), +2 momentum (8) > > **Derelict Archon's Fist's Equipment Storage** > > - **Zone:** Engineering > - **Area:** Equipment storage > - **Descriptor focus:** Inhabited Trap *"Where did all of these bodies come from?"* he thought to himself as he picked his way through another scene of carnage on the way through to Engineering. They were everywhere someone could have held out, held up, or taken refuge. Almost all of them were unarmed civilians, piled in heaps, all trying to get to a handful of armed crew or, toward the end he suspected, toward lone men and women counting their rounds as they watched a wash of human force batter against their improvised defenses. > **Endure Stress** > > **Strong hit**: 4 + 2 (spirit) = **6** vs **5**, **1**. > *Shake it off:* take +1 spirit (3) The human cost was enormous. Why? He'd still found no clue as to why such horrors were left floating in the dark to be found by some random person with neither care nor warning. It disgusted him, not just the death but the lack of concern with justice. He may be only a vulture, Yrgen thought with no small amount of heat, but he at least appreciates his meal. Whatever had come *after* this misery was dishonorable. When the next turret took fire at him, Yrgen wasn't entirely surprised. He'd been expecting another one for an hour. It's dead eye spoke volumes of how long it'd held out, battery drained by constant fire. It was the corpse of an engineering crewman slumped over the manual controls behind a hastily erected barricade of crates that caught him by surprise. The man, even dried in the eternal night of space, looked tired, as if he'd been sitting here for hours just feeding the beast before simply dying of exhaustion, slumped to the side for a nap. His helmet was open as were his eyes. Yrgen carefully reached in with his gloved fingers to gently close them. The man deserved that much. Then it was time to dig through the storage bay. Maybe there was something here, though he seriously doubted it. > **Explore a Waypoint** > > **Miss**: 4 + 2 (wits) = **6** vs **6**, **8**. > Burnt momentum. **Weak hit**: 4 + 2 (wits) = **8** vs **6**, **8**. > Momentum reset to 2. +1 momentum (3) for weak hit > > **Action**: Seize. > **Theme**: Warning. It was in going through the man at the turret's gear that Yrgen discovered something extraordinary: The Fist had warning of the attack but it wasn't from the pirate that holed the ship a dozen times over. It was from inside. "BRIDGECOM to ALL HANDS. Cargo sterility unmaintained. Cargo out of containment in the rear hold and pressing forward to ENGINEERING and beyond. Emplace, emplace, emplace. Do not let the cargo penetrate the bridge. Repeat …" Yrgen stared at the salvaged snippet of comms that he'd dug out of the man's arm unit. Were the civilians the cargo being referred to? They must have been. How could it be otherwise? Were they slaves or worse? He had spent many years out in the deep but the darkness of man kept him far from the wells of filth humanity hid itself within. Sometimes, though, the darkness stretched forth a thin hand to swallow the stars. Yrgen was in its palm and Hells help him, he had no idea how to get out. > [!note] Editor's Note > > Can Yrgen get out before the Archon's Fist rips itself apart? Would it be better if he did and left the question of the horror to be lost in the void? And what of the other ship, if ship it is? > > Play to find out.