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Meister: Jan
Campaign-Welt / System: Band of Blades, aber in der Zukunft angesiedelt.

Die Leute hinter den Truppen

- Martin, Jan (The GM), Flanf, Ole, Chris -

The Briefing

Fusion power was believed to be humanity's biggest advancement, solving all the problems with traditional energy and paving the way into a golden age. Even the biggest skeptics would never have predicted that it would be its doom. Who could have known it would activate the monoliths? The stone pillars had been considered relics from bygone ages, when primitive humans had erected them for their equally primitive religions. Researchers believed their biggest mystery to be what technique the ancients had used to produce their smooth stone surfaces. They couldn't have been more wrong.

No one quite remembers when the first monoliths became active - their influence spread slowly, infecting both wildlife and nearby humans. When the first machine-cult was finally discovered it was thought to be an oddity, a strange sect of a few lunatics, not a real danger.

Then came the invaders. Portals opened at the monoliths, and out came nightmare: killer robots, cybernetically enhanced alien beasts, waves of nanomachines that changed the landscape. The ruthless attackers made short work of any regional resistance, killing or converting anyone they encountered. Embroiled in endless turf wars, the armies of humanity's large nations took time to respond to this new threat - time they did not have. One by one, nations fell to the relentless assaults of the machines. Not once did the invaders react to communication attempts.

By the time an organised resistance had been put up, half of the world had already been overrun. Still, it was believed the United Human Forces (UHF) would emerge victorious - everyone believed it would be a costly war, but the invader's numbers were still low and their success had so far largely been attributed to the lack of preparation on humanity's side. With Panyar, Zemyati, Orites and Bartans fighting side by side for the first time in ages, what could stop them?

It didn't even take a week for the big UHF offensive to become a disaster, as the enemy's ability to disrupt and intercept radio signals was vastly underestimated. Now, a month after it's start, there is little left of the great offensive but a few scattered forces desperately fighting for survival. This is unlike any war humanity had fought before, and we still are ill adapted to it.

You are one of these surviving forces, the remnants of the Legion, an elite mercenary company reduced in the failed offensive. Trapped in a world that is being overrun by an unstoppable enemy, there is only one hope remaining: One of the Space Research Yards, located in a far-off mountain region.

It is in these yards that humanity's biggest project had been started before the war: Work on ships that would allow travel to other systems. Now it seems the only way to escape this doomed world and allow a fresh start. But between you and salvation lie hundreds of miles of shattered nations, infected by machine cultists and threatened by yet-dormant monoliths activating - and the victorious enemy is close on your heels.

You all believe that the legendary determination and grit of the Legion can see you through - but this is about more than just the soldiers in your company, this is about those around you still human. You have tough choices ahead of you: Will you bring along civilians or leave them to their fate? If your handful of Legion soldiers are the only ones that make it, will that even be enough to start again?

But bring too many and you will be slowed down too much - even a well-protected remote facility is bound to be overrun at some point. And what about those that show signs of becoming machine cultists - will you take them in to try and safe them, at the risk of betraying your plan to the enemy? Or will you cast out even your own men when they show signs of the affliction?

It will depend on the choices of your command staff and the skill of your soldiers whether the Legion becomes a legend, or a forgotten side-note of an extinct race.

Good Luck, soldier.