-Welcome, to Shu-
For the Shu-ites are a simple people. Squat, thickly built, hairless dwarves, Shu-ites are genetically bred to see in the dark, be practically immune to industrial pollutants, and live no more than fifty years to the hour. They were made to dig in the ground of Shu, to extract the powerful and valuable minerals within, and bring them back for sure by their gods. For hundreds of years, they have toiled and labored faithfully without revolt.
But the minerals have dried up.
For the past fifty years, no ship has left Shu with fresh, virgin material. Instead, the Shu-ites dutifully tear apart that which is not needed and that which they could do without, sending it along as tribute instead. The illegal communities and black markets, having thrived before in the hive-steel tunnels, now fight the Shu-ites tooth and claw. Their neighborhoods and their townships were the first deemed 'unneeded.' As a result, an unending war has been waging all over and under the surface of Shu.
It is not uncommon to see soldiers imported in, warriors to fight the corruption and illegal communities. Nor is it uncommon to see Shu-ites carted out by the thousands to underground corpse-farms, where their bodies feed the Deadhead bees to produce the narcotic 'Black Honey.' With every death, the illegal trades grow, and the Ankh'Yulians seem to allow anyone to leave Shu who can afford the toll. Even more so if they can afford the 'look the other way' toll. The gods are nothing if not pure capitalists.
But something is changing. It can be felt in the heavy, smog laden air on the surface. The Shu-ites seem tenser than usual, their guttural cries and growls grow all the more desperate with each passing day. Something is wrong. Even you can feel it, whether you are crawling in the darkest levels or scraping across the highest air-platforms.
For whatever reason, you have come to Shu. Perhaps you are trapped here, perhaps you have been brought to wage war in the name of the gods, or perhaps you seek other disgruntled sentients to add to a war machine. For the log of the gods, describe it to me.
Why are you here?
Shu is not a beautiful moon. Its dark skies are permeated with a thick, grey miasma that holds strong over every inch of visible surface. Light barely filters through the atmosphere from the nearby blue star, but this does not bother the Shu-ites. Shu not a terribly large moon, there are no more than 10,000 continuous, planet spanning levels of hive steel beneath its surface. In addition, there are no more than 5,000 surface levels of industries. But this too, bothers not the Shu-ites.For the Shu-ites are a simple people. Squat, thickly built, hairless dwarves, Shu-ites are genetically bred to see in the dark, be practically immune to industrial pollutants, and live no more than fifty years to the hour. They were made to dig in the ground of Shu, to extract the powerful and valuable minerals within, and bring them back for sure by their gods. For hundreds of years, they have toiled and labored faithfully without revolt.
But the minerals have dried up.
For the past fifty years, no ship has left Shu with fresh, virgin material. Instead, the Shu-ites dutifully tear apart that which is not needed and that which they could do without, sending it along as tribute instead. The illegal communities and black markets, having thrived before in the hive-steel tunnels, now fight the Shu-ites tooth and claw. Their neighborhoods and their townships were the first deemed 'unneeded.' As a result, an unending war has been waging all over and under the surface of Shu.
It is not uncommon to see soldiers imported in, warriors to fight the corruption and illegal communities. Nor is it uncommon to see Shu-ites carted out by the thousands to underground corpse-farms, where their bodies feed the Deadhead bees to produce the narcotic 'Black Honey.' With every death, the illegal trades grow, and the Ankh'Yulians seem to allow anyone to leave Shu who can afford the toll. Even more so if they can afford the 'look the other way' toll. The gods are nothing if not pure capitalists.
But something is changing. It can be felt in the heavy, smog laden air on the surface. The Shu-ites seem tenser than usual, their guttural cries and growls grow all the more desperate with each passing day. Something is wrong. Even you can feel it, whether you are crawling in the darkest levels or scraping across the highest air-platforms.
For whatever reason, you have come to Shu. Perhaps you are trapped here, perhaps you have been brought to wage war in the name of the gods, or perhaps you seek other disgruntled sentients to add to a war machine. For the log of the gods, describe it to me.
Why are you here?