II. Optimistic: Good to see you again.

Author: Radetch
Published: 2020-01-09, edited: 2020-01-11
Continuation of our story, already in progress. In this episode, Radetch continues to be an idiot, and gets stung. Frequently. The audience was asked to select a planet, which they did.

Part of the campaign:

Unfinished Starbound AAR

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Game: Other games

I. Conspiratorial: For your eyes only.

Images: 5, author: Radetch, published: 2020-01-09, edited: 2020-01-11

Smug: Scholarly hands make for unskilled soldiers.
Pleasant: Hello again. I'm glad to see you all still alive and in order, for what little those words may count to you.

I have returned after another sojourn, though my ship and its unskilled Glitch construction are beginning to show in the selections of planets to be had...

Finding Ronder Cradle VI to be uncharted and unowned, I mounted an expedition to gather resources and directions. To my surprise, it had been left blank due to an Apex science expedition. I have no qualm with the Apex - but they do not like visitors, or so it seems.

Apex biomaterial is very solvent, as it would turn out, and their laboratory notes were quite useful in jury-rigging my craft.

Embarrassed: Ignore the toxin readouts. I caught a virus. From a friend. Sharing packets.
Pleased: Ronder Cradle VI at its finest.

Though I immediately set to work setting up land claims, my survey (which was top-level and brief) soon hit snags.

Ronder Cradle VI may be a beautiful planet, but numerous dangers make it unsuitable for long-term colonization. Naturally, I will share co-ordinates for those more interested, but for those uncertain of their skill, some caution may be advised.

Pointed: You may notice my large supply of harvested meats. This will be important later.
Praiseful: Behold, the mountainous embankment of flesh!
This superstructure, which spanned the greater part of the planet, was infested with bees. Not the kind that apiculturist-scholar's such as myself might raise, but giant ones, swollen from mutation or purpouseful science. The Apex's reason d'etre, perhaps?

Regardless, the biomass was a beautiful sight, rich in harvestable meats, honeys, spidersilk and bone.

Downcast: Alas, what grew the biomass also protected it...
Defeated: Imagine this, and know true pain.

... And my every attempt to investigate further was thwarted by wave after wave of the bees. Both soldiers and workers died quickly enough, but caused great harm that necessitated frequent field repairs. In the end, I seized what I could and left a small stockpile of analgesic in the case one, or a consortium of you takes interest in the world and its resource rights.
Bemused: Did they brick the torch-layer in with the torch?
Far past the red-flecked foothills was another great structure; this one perhaps caused by the other.

A tomb.

Resentful: Truly, it was guarded well - but of course, the soldiers of Kluex are nothing against the metal fury of all the gods. To be so arrogant as to think that the divinities could exist in the singular...!

Apologetic: So sorry. I have no qualms with Kluex per se; it was merely that Avian tomb-warden weaponry is of good make and calibre, and my frustrated attempts to gain entry were denied - with force. Even worship of a singular god is better then such foolish notions as rejecting the divine right of the nobility to rule.
Thoughtful: Why did they assume I was a mere hunter?
Not long after, I met a group of Floran. Interestingly enough, a seemingly exiled Apex lived amongst them in peace; clothed in Floran scraps, and eating their rotten meat. They were hostile and resisted my attempts to barter their anger away with gifts of harvested flesh.

Disappointment: I rather admire the Floran, rough as they are. It was a pity to harvest their biomass for my purposes, but it serves well enough.
Nostalgic: Some things are simply pleasant.

As it stands, I was surprised to find a large Avian village - locked from interstellar travel and cast-off from the main Avian society but friendly to the extreme. They were quite devout, quite courteous, and open to trade. You may have noticed my new headgear; it is not a crown, but I hear in some regions the plume is a sign of Princedom. I shall accept it gladly.

Warmly: The guard at the entrance was quite flirtatious, though we only spoke at length. Truly - everyone was quite friendly.
Joyful: Do you see of what I speak?

Even when somewhat unfamiliar with Glitch custom, the Avian settlers were friendly. This made me glad my attempts to gain entrance to the tomb from before had been unsuccessful; had I known the world was inhabited by some Avian lord or another, I would not have impugned upon their demesne.

Curious: Are any of you the liege-lord, by chance? If so - I formally supplicate myself in apology. One does not intrude upon the demesne of another.
Empirical: As for the rest of the surrounding worlds...

They were mostly abandoned, and unfit for life - organic or synthetic.

I found several more tombs and superstructures that indicated Avian settlement at some point in the distant past. I breached one tomb, but left the honoured dead and funerary idols intact before re-sealing it.

Jocular: I did so as much for the memories of the wide hips of the Avian people as for their friendship and respect - but truly, to have died in such a ruinous land is a sorrow. To be forgotten - even worse.
Confused: What sort of fellow introduces himself this way?

When I turned my back, he began shooting at me, on top of everything else. I have no clue as to why, but perhaps this poor Terran had decided that the drylands would make a good home.

Unfortunately, a noble is a poor target. His biomass and effects were of little import.
Awestruck: Such ostentatious beauty!

But of most note was the rarified, rainbow-coloured sand that I found on the drylands planet; it was absolutely tacky, gaudy to the extreme, and little better for the making of glass and the raising of industry.

Naturally, I must have it for my eventual habitation. If any of you know a contract with a guild that provides such opulence in bulk, I shall pay them well.
Wary: Of course, bright colours are often signs of danger...

Increasingly, the rainbow sand lead to corpses, flensed of meat not by travelers or the desert sands, but by strange creatures - unseen by my optics and undetected by my sensors.
Firm: Which is why one must always pay attention.
The keynote in my exploration of such a planet was the find of a very rare fungus; one so hostile as to damage my reinforced frame through heavily corrosive spores.

I have no idea the effect on organics, but cannot imagine they would be pleasant. It was harvested, carefully - but no others were found.

Cold: If ever you should find yourself in a land of bright, beautiful sand - devoid of all life - look around your feet. Do not fall prey to dangers that lie beneath them.
Mortified: The dangers of 'free' thought.

Beyond the deadly sands lay a small village of Glitch who felt themselves to be free because they were no longer subscribed to the ideals of our people.

Stern: I view this as the greatest problem facing our civilisation. Free thought is valuable, perhaps - it can allow our nobility the power to adapt, learn, and to better guide the auspice of our people.

But then! To discard order, autocracy, nobility, all in the name of some nebulous and perceived freedom!...

Tired: A true noble must serve their people. They will extort them to the end of days, yes - but their blood should stain the fields the serfs do till, and their banners should protect all under their employ.

It pains me to see places like this.
I do not wish to speak of them.
Recovering: Another reason to like the Florans -

Their beautiful taste in bio-luminescence. This cache was uninhabited, but possessed some sort of organic beacon. I could not decipher what it said, but I did take the contents therein.

Curious: Do Floran usually bury supply caches beneath the ground?
Relaxed: At this point, I met some scientists in a peaceful place.

Truly - if you have the opportunity to visit it, I would simply for the ambiance. In addition to learning much on how to optimize the sweat of my brow, and the toil of my serfs - I felt refreshed after I had left. It would be my hope that the same effect might be felt by you esteemed Lords and Ladies.
Hopeful: The last area of the Ronder Cradle was a crystalline moon.

Truly gorgeous in character - and deadly beyond compare. Large shards of crystal made short work of both the local fauna and, if I had lost control for a moment, myself. Some pieces were as wide as I am tall - and would have split me right open had they made contact.

But the bounty!

Greedy: Oh, the bounty!
Self-certain: There was none like it.

Gems of precious and alien nature, all without owner nor master. I could not handle nor carry them all - but they will prove useful, I am certain. Some for scientific purposes and others as proof of station. If ever you find such a moon, I believe you, too, should benefit from it's exploitation.

But now - dearest of Peers - I have a question for you.

You see, it has come to my attention that three clusters are without liege-lord, and though the House voi Tinselkampf is without property nor lien, I stand to correct that. With negotiation, I believe it possible to win one of the following systems in perpetuity for my name and purpose.

All three have the benefice of interesting worlds, at least one suitable for habitation; diverse mineral and resource rights that might be harvested, and uh...

Lewd: Gelatinous worlds nearby, that one might hope would attract settlers of a decidedly slime-based nature. Oh! To hear the slap of slime against steel, awaken with your servos coated in goo, unable to even properly clean the damn things, but know it was entirely worth every second of it -

Embarrassed: The worlds? So I see, so I see.
Factual: Umbra Legion

Umbra Legion is a large collection of planets orbiting an orange star. The system is highly diverse, perhaps the most diverse of the candidates. Rumour has it that is rich in historical artefacts of some salvage potential, though given the fact it has not yet been settled, enfeuding serfs to do the task of extraction remains distant.

The data I was given suggests extreme habitability, but...

Doubtful: The area has something of a reputation for being unpleasant. It will be up to me to convince others of the necessity of the rightful contract between noble and serf. Thus, proper settlement may be difficult and take some time.
Factual: Lilith Basin

A beautifully named galaxy orbiting a beautiful binary star. Fitting of royalty, perhaps - and symbolic of the sort of personal union one hopes one's palatial resident shall encourage...

High levels of organic and metallic resources are said to abound in this system, though so too are high levels of radiation. Although this poses less of a threat to myself and non-organic settlers, it is the duty of the lord to protect their serfs. I do not wish to pay or capture settlers in honorable contract, only for them to die, after all.

Most intriguing is a world said to be completely overrun by xenolife. This 'Planet' runs the possibility of pseudosentience.

Intrigued: This is all conjecture, of course.
Factual: Beeblebrox Rest

Named for a legendary Terran politician, or so I hear tell. It is hard to tell who named half of these systems; sometimes it seems that the astronomers were competing for fool-headedness in their field. But I am not one to judge, only to reap the rewards of their negligence.

Though small in size, there is a good diversity of planets and a high incidence of mineral wealth, if cursory reports are to be believed. In addition, there are not one, but two gelatinous worlds in this region! Two!

Ecstatic: Not that this should influence your advice, of course.

Restrained: As a counter-measure, rumours that the sector was once inhabited remain just that - rumours. However, I am loathe to step on any toes... And concerned by the fact that few survey craft, whether manned or unmanned, have returned. No Glitch feels kinship to those Von Neumann monstrosities, after all.

Now - bear in mind that I am a noble myself, and may choose a sector on my own volition; democracy is merely monarchy in decay, after all. But I value your wisdom and judgment as peers and as friends, and look forward to your own tales. May your serfs remain loyal, your lands stable, and your fortunes ever-opulent.

Next chapter:

Game: Other games

III. Pensive: At long last, it begins.

Images: 11, author: Radetch, published: 2020-01-09, edited: 2020-01-11

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