conversations.from: system
conversations.value: INVITATIONS ARE ACCEPTED TILL THURSDAY JULY 1 2015. PLAYERS WILL BE CHOSEN THEREAFTER.
  
  
  
  "When the Duskman cometh, 
  When the Duskman cometh, 
  Oh  when he cometh,
  Six feet under I shall sleep,
   Six feet under I shall sleep,
  For he seeks souls to reap
  When the Duskman cometh, 
  Bury my soul deep, deep."
   
  
  -When the Duskman Cometh
  
  TONE: 
  "It's a gritty world. Good often die young and the wicked live long enough to feel betrayal. Before you go out into the frontier you never realize the depravity of men, but once you return... You do."
  
  DUSTERS: Engines of War is a a setting ripe with adventuring possibilities as it is a world brimming on the edge of war. Set against the backdrop of the Wild West, conflicting extremities clash in order to reign over the realms: ancient magics struggles against the rise of technological advances, unwavering traditions competes with temptations of modern philosophies, and even instruments of battle are in question of supremacy -sword or gun?
  
  A dark fantasy adventure. 
  Rated: M for Mature Audiences.
  
  
  
  NUMBER OF PLAYERS:
   3-5
  
  Looking for serious players. If you have no intention of dedication, please look elsewhere. I am putting dedication to narrate this story I expect the same level of commitment from my players.
  
  PLAYER ROLES:
  Dusters are the wanderers of Eol. They traverse the frontiers, brave the dangers and return stronger for the experience. 
  Dusters though are simple people, simple people with complicated lives and cojones!
  
  
  POWER LEVEL: 
  Mundane folk with swords, revolvers, and some hints of magic. Maybe a robot or two.
  
  
  FIRST SCENE: 
  
  "Along the frontier several scatterings of civilization does exist within the hostile environment. These locations are as harsh, ill-reputable and as formidable as the terrain on which they were erected upon.
  Once such location is Redemption. Redemption liners on the eastern border of the frontier towards the region of Ondane. It is a rather pitiable establishment that the locales consider a town: consisting of a saloon, a few shackles, and an outhouse. All of the activity of the town is centered within the saloon, aptly known, as Redemption's End Saloon...
  
  
  You find yourself drawn to Redemption. As you roam past the few shackles along the path, you see the wooden structure of the saloon rise above you. A large front sign reads "Redemption's End" beneath it, scribble in paint by hand reads, "Ain't it the truth!"
  
  
  FURTHER INFORMATION:
  https://storium.com/forums#/category/lfp/thread/01t0dn
  
  
  
  
  From the Memoirs of S.T.Reuben
  
  "I am sitting in this cell awaiting the executioner because of what? I stole a gram. A gram! Of Hilirium. Do I deserve death for that? The nations have been fighting over and killing one another for it for years!Now, you ain't never seen any fancy purse getting his head hung high for sending young men to die over Hilirium. Yet, I am about to be hung. Ain't that something.
  
  Hilirium.
  
  Used to be you could be found on the three continents, yet the Vorian Imperium and the Erorians exhausted their lands supply. Now, the only place you could find the darn thing is on Eol. You best believe the nations are going to send their armies to go fetch it.
  
  Vorian's need it for their toys: Mechcanicus and airships. Whereas the Erorians need it for their "traditions," fancy way of saying to be able to maintain their connection to the aetherial - a.k.a. use magic.
  
  Eol was broken into three regions WAENDLON to the west, ONDANE to the east. The Vorian's claim the wooded expanse of Waendlon, whereas the Erorians settled on the the fertile field expanses of Ondane. The last region lays unclaimed, a vast region untamed, unexplored, and mostly unseen by the nations: the FRONTIER.
  
  Hilirium is in the Frontier. Yet, nobody knows how to get to it. Vorian's can't get to easily, since their airships can't seem to function properly within miles of the frontier. They call that the Tempest. Erorians trying to lay down bricks and establish settlements, which is fine in the eastern region, but as they approach the frontier, all those picturesque ideals begin to collapse.
  
  Hilirium is blood. You know who says that? Them Melloks. Native folk of Eol. They are as tough as stone -literally- and twice the height of a man. They have been getting the short end of the deal when the nations are involved, but after their new leader was chosen -Mugoein, you can say things have gotten interesting. Melloks in a raiding party is something to read about, not be witness to. Ever hear of the Erorian township of Norin? Frontiers town, one of the strongest at the time. One night it all vanished. Folks say their was a rumbling and shaking of the earth and that the very earth swallowed Norin. Although some folk says it was a guardian of the Melloks, the "Leviathan."
  
  I don't believe those hokey stories myself. Yet, sure is nice thinking about that rather than the hangman's noose.
  
  
  
  
  All this trouble for a gram of Hilirium."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: .
conversations.prefix: Subplot (copy):
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Inside you find a mixture of Sovereigns and Beklos. 
  
  You estimate it's worth as either 100 Soves' or  10 Vorril. 
conversations.prefix: Pouch of Currency:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Inside you find a mixture of Sovereigns and Beklos. 
  
  40 Soves; 4 Vorril 
conversations.prefix: Pouch of Currency  :
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Mechanic
  
  Once a mechanic within the Vorian Empire, Eleswick found himself ousted from the Guild when it was learned that he suffered an addiction to Dream Shade -a narcotic. 
  Eleswick made his way to Redmeption, and there was employed as an entertainer for Redmeption's End. 
  
  
conversations.prefix: Eleswick:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your actions speak greater than the bounty that looms on your head. The reputation of your deeds exceeds the desires of folk wanting to turn you in. 
  
conversations.prefix: Diminished Bounty:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Due to your generosity the refugees of Redemption have bestowed upon you the unofficial title of the "Saint of Redemption."
conversations.prefix: Saint of Redemption:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: C-Class
  
  Aer-Dirigible of the lightest class: C- Class variant. A scouting vessel, operable by a small crew, it's loading capacity limits this ship for personal transport. 
  
  Crew: 1 Pilot; 1 Hand
  Speed: 45 Knots
  Load: Very Light
  Defenses: None
  Armaments: None
  
  
conversations.prefix: Aer-Dirigible:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: All her life Daisy knew little of the world, only the expanse of dirt known as Redemption. After the death of her folks, she engaged herself in services at the Redemption's End hoping to earn enough in order to leave that desolate town. 
  
  Now, with the only place she knew as home gone, Daisy is caught within the thrashing winds of uncertainty. 
conversations.prefix: Daisy of Redemption:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You have earned Denton McKinley's respect -a feat accomplished only by a handful of people throughout the years. This speaks greatly of your character. 
conversations.prefix: Grizzled Respect:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Located along the northern range of the Amin Sol Mountains and situated upon the Southern -Western Passage leading into Valaynia, Daerbottle is often described as the "Gateway of Stoulja." This belief is not only credible due to it's physical placement upon the map, yet also due to the overwhelming fervor of religious beliefs within the town -unlike Valaynia Daerbottle is tolerant of differing religious denominations and national opinions.
conversations.prefix: Daerbottle:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A new Hilirium Forge is required to maintain the aer-dirigible. 
conversations.prefix: Hilirium Forge:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: An enraged mob has gathered due to the presence of a Mellok within the town. Normally Daerbottle is known for it's liberties, yet the current opinion held by many for Melloks in general is scornful resentment, due to the drastic actions taken by some Mellok tribes.
conversations.prefix: Enraged Mob:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A Mellok of the Urdu tribe, once a Marauder - a warrior- he has since been marked as a Wanderer -a surveyor. Intrigued by the festivities being held in Daerbottle, the Festival of the Twelve, he found himself entering the city to learn more of the experience. 
conversations.prefix: Adamant:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A former Aedlos Knight, Mag the Craven has carved a niche in Eol's underworld by being formidable muscle. 
conversations.prefix: Mag the Craven:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: An mechanic of reputable skill, he was chosen by the superiors of the Metal Works Guild to be this year's representative to the festivities of the Festival of the Twelve. He isn't overtly religious, considering his closest religious endeavors is cursing the name of the gods whenever misfortune strikes, but as duty demands he does as he is told. 
conversations.prefix: Basil "Bourbon" Boswin:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A fourteen day celebration, the Festival of the Twelve celebrates the pantheon of gods worshipped throughout the nations, including the principle goddess -Arynna. Throughout the fourteen days a god or goddess is honored by having all celebrations and festivities on a particular day made in their name. The two "other" days, which normally is the first and final days of the festivities, is dedicated to Arynna. 
conversations.prefix: Festival of  the Twelve: The Sunset Kid:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A fourteen day celebration, the Festival of the Twelve celebrates the pantheon of gods worshipped throughout the nations, including the principle goddess -Arynna. Throughout the fourteen days a god or goddess is honored by having all celebrations and festivities on a particular day made in their name. The two "other" days, which normally is the first and final days of the festivities, is dedicated to Arynna. 
conversations.prefix: Festival of  the Twelve: Baptist Holden:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A fourteen day celebration, the Festival of the Twelve celebrates the pantheon of gods worshipped throughout the nations, including the principle goddess -Arynna. Throughout the fourteen days a god or goddess is honored by having all celebrations and festivities on a particular day made in their name. The two "other" days, which normally is the first and final days of the festivities, is dedicated to Arynna. 
conversations.prefix: Festival of  the Twelve: Adryl:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A fourteen day celebration, the Festival of the Twelve celebrates the pantheon of gods worshipped throughout the nations, including the principle goddess -Arynna. Throughout the fourteen days a god or goddess is honored by having all celebrations and festivities on a particular day made in their name. The two "other" days, which normally is the first and final days of the festivities, is dedicated to Arynna. 
conversations.prefix: Festival of  the Twelve: Mallor Humbert aka Vincent Abernathy:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A former Aedlos Knight, Mag the Craven has carved a niche in Eol’s underworld by being formidable muscle. 
conversations.prefix: Mag the Craven:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A Mellok wreaking havoc on a small town, what could be worse? 
conversations.prefix: Rampaging Landslide:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The life of a professional is never easy. The life of a professional crook is NEVER easy. Pros always know when it's time to go.
conversations.prefix: Clean Getaway:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Mellok.
  
  Hilirium is the life essence of your people. It is what nurtures your tribes and provides you with incalculable strength. In moments of duress you are empowered by the Hilirium and can perform wondrous feats of strength.
conversations.prefix: Hilirium Heart:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Crow.
  
  You are Crow. You have flown on various ships and for as many years as you can possibly remember. When aboard an airship you can undertake any task that requires you to do so. Also, you have the gathered a collection of stories and tales which you can recite at demand. This knowledge can be used to entertain  or to draw some knowledge from the stories which can aid you. 
conversations.prefix: Crow's Nest:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Mechanic.
  
  Your tools aren't the appropriate ones for the job or your tools break during the job. Either way you find yourself helpless.
conversations.prefix: Ill Fated Tools:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Aedlos Knight.
  
  There are moments when you are blinded to the aetherial. It is these moments you fear for when they occur you find yourself all to vulnerable to even incompetent opponents in the field of battle.
conversations.prefix: Aetherial Blindness:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  Onaeri.
  
  An aetherial presence haunts you. You have little understanding to what it is or what it could be, but every now-and-then this presence makes itself known to you. It is during these moments you collapse in utter fear. 
conversations.prefix: Aetherial Haunting:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Mechcanicus.
  
  Your Mechcanicus is old. Probably a model from one of the first generations of Mechcanicus. During a crucial moment your Mechcanicus will malfunction. 
conversations.prefix: Rusted Existence:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are missing a limb. For whatever reason, either born with it, or lost during and accident or a combative confrontation, you have less limbs than normal. 
  This fact impedes you tremendously during physical activities and upsets others during certain social gatherings.
conversations.prefix: Loss of a Limb:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Crow.
  
  Branded with the Black Jack is a painful experience involving a heated brand and the face of some unlucky soul. Usually mutineers suffer the experience.
  
  For whatever reason, you were branded with the mark of the Black Jack. 
  
  
  Interactions in which you are part of always resolve poorly.
conversations.prefix: Black Jack:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Mechanic.
  
  You've always assumed that The Vorian Imperium was the first civilization to create wonders wrought of metal and machines. Yet' in your hand you grasp a relic from a bygone era. A simple earthen cog, crafted by the hands of some unknown and ancient civilization.
  
  You have to learn more.
conversations.prefix: Gears of the Ancients:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Aedlos Knight.
  
  You have dishonored yourself via your words, your deeds, or perhaps through a reason entirely not of your own doing. Whatever the reasons, you seek to restore your honor.
conversations.prefix: Broken Shield:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Mechcanicus.
  
  You abandoned the Voriam Imperium. Whatever your reasons, your decision has labeled you a traitor to the empire.
  All traitors to the empire must suffer the consequences: death.
  
conversations.prefix: Rusted Horizons:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Crow.
  
  You find yourself indebted to someone or something. However you became indebted doesn't matter, yet, how you are going to resolve your debt does.
conversations.prefix: That of  Which We Owe:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Onaeri.
  
  The fate of the Onaeri is to fade into the aetherial and become an Echo:remnants of Onaeri whom dwell within the aetherial unable to find eternal rest.
  
  This is your fate. 
  
  Yet, you have decided to impact the world before the aetherial takes you. You won't be so easily forgotten.
conversations.prefix: Echoes in the Distance:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: In the region of Ondane, few establishments exist west of the Verreen fields; the Redemption saloon happens to be one of those such establishments. 
  Bordering the frontier expanse, Redemption is a haven for those willing to traverse the rugged untamed land, but it is also a beacon for the lawless unsavory sorts.
conversations.prefix: Redemption's End Saloon:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: In Erori Llune, through untold hardships and tribulations, you earned the title of Aedlos Knight. In your hands the strength of steel forges you into a force of reckoning, yet your knowledge lingers not only in the strength of steel but as well in the knowledge of invoking the aetherial, yet your knowledge of the aetherial is limited and not as potent as those scholars who pursue it relentlessly.
conversations.prefix: Aedlos Knight:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: In the harshness of the  frontier one learns to survive by becoming the best. You either shoot first or die first, there ain't reprieves for coming up short. You learned this lesson the hard way. Yet, you don't regret it. Hell, you probably thank whatever good fortune you worship for the experience. Any cannon, be it pea-shooters to long range rifles, are deadly in your hands; and those are covered in enough blood to assert the validity of your deadliness.
conversations.prefix: Gunslinger:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are one with the aetherial. The aetherial does not shelter any secrets from you, it bares all of its existence before you, and like the intimate understanding of lovers, you relinquish yourself to the aetherial utterly.  Yet, in doing so you have sealed your fate. For any mortal who yields to the will of the aetherial will soon find themselves fading from the mortal realm. You shall become an Echo, a fate that is worse than death.
conversations.prefix: Onaeri:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You are essentially the heart of the Vorian Imperium (you and any others within the mechanic vocation). The rise of the Vorian Imperium came about due to the efforts of Jicus the Unrelentlesss, the first mechanic. You are a prodigy of his legacy and desire only to excel within the field. Since of recent, expansion into Eol has been the foremost priority on the Imperium's agenda. This grants you the opportunity to test your abilities and apply your skills  in real world applications.
conversations.prefix: Mechanic:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The Vorian Imperium is set to claim the Wilds region of Wanedlon a daunting endeavor marred by the blood of thousands who attempted it before them. Yet, the Vorian Imperium wields a tool none of the others who came before could claim: Mechcanicus armor. 
  You are rigorously trained in the operations of Mechcanicus. To you dwelling within the husk of the Mechcanicus feels like being within a second skin. Within these suits of powered armor, wrought of metal, steam, and powered by an hiridium furnace, you fear nothing and often feel like you can overcome any insurmountable task.
conversations.prefix: Mechcanicus:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Aedlos Knight, Mechcanicus, Crow.
  
  Steel is strength.
  
  Your skills with melee armaments are legendary. Perhaps it is only this reputation that  aides you within this scenario. Yet, when used during battles you are a limitless force of wrathful destruction.
conversations.prefix: Strength of Steel:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Aedlos Knight, Onaeri
  
  Gods normally refrain from interacting within the affairs of mortals. Yet, in your moment of need, the gods heed your prayer. Something of beneficial worth occurs to you and/or your allies. 
  
  Note: Practical Limitations. 
conversations.prefix: Benediction:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Aedlos Knight, Onaeri, Mellok.
  
  Urging forth the aetherial energies within the vicinity and concentrating upon it, you are able to to summon forth an aetherial servant to aid you within this scene. 
   Note:  The description of the creature is left, within reasonable limitation, to the player who used the card. 
conversations.prefix: Aetherial Herald :
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Gunslinger,  Drifter, Mellok.
  
  You are one  lucky son-of-a-gun. Be it some entity has taken a particular interest in you case, or the winds of the world just happen to be crossing your path all at once, but you are benefitting from it. 
  
  Something beneficial occurs to you. 
  
conversations.prefix: Lady Luck:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Gunslinger,  Drifter, Crow.
  
  A quick draw, a quick death.
  
  Your skills with ranged armaments are legendary. Perhaps it is only this reputation that  aides you within this scenario. Yet, when used during battles you are a limitless force of wrathful destruction.
conversations.prefix: Sharpshooter:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Gunslinger,  Drifter.
  
  "The Duskman will meet you at the crossroads, when it's your time." 
  -Verse from the song "Duskman Cometh"
  
  You have seen the Duskman. Due to this chance encounter you have lost all sense of fear, yet you aren't reckless. 
  
  When played your resolve  strengths your actions and any enemy who looks at you cowers in utter fear.
  
conversations.prefix: Crossroads:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Mechcanicus, Mechanic.
  
  To you the Imperium is everything. All your struggles, your hardships, and the trials and tribulations were suffered in the name of the Imperium. It is for this reason that you are recognized with honors within the Imperium. 
  
  Requests -within reason-made by you within any imperial city or outpost, or via contacts are settled.
conversations.prefix: For the Imperium!:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What are all the riches of the world if there isn't a little risk in losing it? You are a gambler through-and-through. If you ever have a little money on your person, anxiety to play your chances overwhelms you. Life is about risks right?
conversations.prefix: Vice-Gambling:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Mechanic.
  
  To you everything is functional for a greater design. You can see simple tools or items and in due time create something with functionality. 
conversations.prefix: Clogs and Steam:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Mechcanicus.
  
  To you your mechcanicus is more than just twisted metal, twisting cogs, and churning steam. To you your Mechcanicus is alive. Whenever you have faced a moment of desperation, a moment so hopeless you had doubted your survival, the mechcanicus reacted and of its own will and doing the impossible managed to keep you from harm.  
  
  You don't accept it at times, but you truly do believe that your mechcanicus is alive.   
  
  
conversations.prefix: Hilirium Forge:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: All.
  
  The world is cruel and the fates wicked. In order to survive in Eol you need to be far more ruthless than your opponent.  
  
  You can control the outcome of on minor NPC. 
conversations.prefix: The good, the bad, and the ugly:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Rynnar of the Gudiene Order and leader of the theocratic nation of Stoulja, Sylott is considered the holiest of men upon Eol. Beseeched by kings and pilgrims alike not only for the divine blessings he can bestow but as well for his council, it is said that Sylott's sagacity is a boon bestowed by the goddess. 
conversations.prefix: Sylott the Rynnar:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Call them what you will: soiled doves, nymphs of the frontier, red light men or women, prostitutes, whores, etc. These individuals carve out an existence in these rugged towns like none other can. 
  
  Looks like one is eyeing you... Or is it your coin satchel?
conversations.prefix: Seductive Frontier's Fairy:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: On the frontier the only law is the law of survival -kill them before they kill you. 
  
  Outlaws thrive within the frontier and theirs is a common sight: thieves, cutthroats, murderers, hooligans, scoundrels, etc... 
conversations.prefix: Outlaws:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Desperation sets on any man or woman out in the Frontier. Sometimes a little drink offers a momentary respite... Sometimes it gets out of hand though.
conversations.prefix: Bottled Demons:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A gorgeous woman by any criteria, yet she is not your common Frontier mistress, within the depths of her darkened irises there is a fiery guile which belies the simplicity of her facade.
conversations.prefix: Red Doll Milady:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Just another day in the Saloon. A few drinks, a few choice words, and a brawl erupts. 
  
  
  Please don't hurt the pianist.
conversations.prefix: Saloon Brawl:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Liquor is what gets you through the day. If you ever found yourself offered a drink from the Duskman you'd take it merrily. Whenever around liquor you struggle to control yourself from not drinking. Whenever it isn't around you get anxious to obtain some. 
conversations.prefix: Vice-Drinking:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Mellok.
  
  The essence of Hilirium which sustains you is fading. Although Melloks are able to live for ages, when the Hilirium begins to fade within them they know their mortality is about to end. Yet, you don't want it to end.
  Whenever you are near pure Hilirium the desire to consume it overwhelms you.
conversations.prefix: Fading Hilirium:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Nothing excites you more than the embrace of lust. You suffer great difficulty in not accepting the open arms of a passionate lover. 
  Whenever away from a brothel for to long you begin to itch to return to one... Or you attempt to find other outlets.
conversations.prefix: Vice-Soiled Doves:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Drifter.
  
  You have contracted Mountain Fever. It isn't a discernible disease, but rather a sickness of the mind. While in civilization you are always on edge, and highly suspicious of others -even acquaintances. You are highly volatile and your reaction to a situation becomes: shoot first ask questions later.
conversations.prefix: Mountain Fever:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Gunslinger.
  
  You have seen the Duskman and for this experience you have become irrationally fearful. You fear is overwhelming and when it strikes you find yourself in a state of utter panic.
conversations.prefix: Duskman:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: The Keep of Eschul is the heart of The township of Daerbottle. It was conceived by Lord Estrehain centuries prior, when he requested for a wardenship of the lands along the  Amin Sol mountains -which the trade route known as the Lady's Road cut through. 
  Over the years the Halls of Eschul became property of the Holy Order and used as a retreat for the authoritative individuals within the church.   
conversations.prefix: Hall of Eschul:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Of one of the greatest achievements by the Vorian Imperium none stands out as proudly as airships. Vessels which though the burning 
  of the furnace of hiridium can soar through the heavens of hilinnin above. 
  You are a crow. A designation reserved for those who sail upon an airship. You have seen more than most in the world have ever seen in the entire span of their lives,  and for this you are appreciative, but to have experienced the freedom of being on an airship, has left you overwhelmed with elated gratitude. You await the return to the skies.
conversations.prefix: Crow:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: As you've seen it, most folk who come to the frontier find it to be a barren wasteland where only the most vile creatures irk out an existence. You essentially agree with the sentiment, yet your reference is in regards to the festering  pits of civilization these 'yahoos' came from. 
  You are the quintessential frontiersman. A survivalist who lives with little qualm off the very land you traverse.  You're only shame is that you regret the dependency on civilization for your caches of liquors. 
  
  Life is rough.
conversations.prefix: Drifter:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You are of the earth and stone, yet you aren't earth and stone. You are of the wilderness and the natural  world, yet you aren't of the wilderness and of the natural world. You are Mellok, those who are of nature but stand apart from nature.
  Melloks are indigenous to the frontier, roaming across what they claim are ancestral hunting grounds. Hulking forms formed of stone and earth aid these sentient creatures to survive the harsh landscape.
conversations.prefix: Mellok:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Drifter.
  
  You live in the frontier, but it wasn't out of choice. You are a wanted man or woman. Eventually, you know your past is going to catch up with you. When it does will you be prepared?
  
  
conversations.prefix: Wrongfully Accused:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Your time is dwindling on Eol. You made a deal with the Duskman and now the final year has come. You better rectify whatever complication brought you to seek out the Duskman. 
  
  Beware when the Duskman cometh... For when does your soul he shall keep.
conversations.prefix: Dusk at the Crossroads:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Mellok.
  
  You seek salvation for your people. Foreign empires lay claim to your people's land. Ignorant of your people they strip away at the earth till not but bare barren scars litter the lands. Permanent reminders of thier search for Hilirium - your people's lifeblood. 
  
  
  You must stop this madness before it continues any further and causes more suffering to your people.
  
conversations.prefix: Failings of Blood:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You have always been aware of the aetherial -always. Ever since you were young you sensed the energies of the aetherial enveloping the world around you; sort-of in the manner in which the waters of the ocean envelops the denizens of the deep.  You have always known of it's existence... 
  
  Yet, you are still naive to it's potentials. You are not Onaeri, thus lack the knowledge of binding the power of the aetherial to your will. For this most call you "Reek" a derogatory term to insinuate your unfamiliarity to the aetherial. 
  
  You can cast, but your magic is fragmented and limited. 
conversations.prefix: Reek:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Onaeri, Aedlos Knight, Reek.
  
  You can sense it; a bitterness that consumes you when you manifest the aetherial. Something dark lingers within the aetherial. Something wicked. 
  
  A realization dawns upon you, when you evoke the aetherial what or who does your actions disturb? 
  
  Wraiths: possessed casters whose sole purpose is bent on destruction and carnage. 
  Is this your fate?
conversations.prefix: Wraith:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Fate doesn't decide the destiny of the world: Lady Luck does.  Tossing a few coins can make your richer than the King of Erori Llune! What are the chances for losing? What do your risk? Take a chance.
conversations.prefix: A Game of Chance:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Inside you find a mixture of Sovereigns and Beklos. 
  
  
conversations.prefix: Pouch of Currency :
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Could you pass upon this opportunity? 
  
  Sure, it's not the greatest ship you have ever laid eyes upon, but it sure beats walking... Or riding four-legged beasts. 
conversations.prefix: Commandeering an Aer-Dirigible:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: An outpost situated within the Queen's Gorge, south and west of Redemption, it's an aged wooded structure which sits on the the shores of the Three Lord's River and is located on Erickson's Pass. 
  
  It's crass owner is a passed fur-trapper named McKinley. 
conversations.prefix: Hound's Tail Outpost:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Fur-trapper by trade, shopkeeper by choice, and belligerent whore-son by nature. This Drifter is as boorish as the wilds in which he has settled in. Yet, none can tarnish the validity of his his capacity for surviving in the wild frontier. 
conversations.prefix: Denton McKinley :
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Efforts undertaken during the fall of Redemption secured the safety of several of the former town's populace. Although thankful for their lives, the downtrodden of Redemption lost everything in the flames that consumed the town. Out in the frontier they are are going to require some assistance in order to survive: provisions, supplies, and perhaps a horse and wagon. 
conversations.prefix: Redemption's Lost:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The Aer-Dirigible has sustained some damage. 
  
  
  Minor.
conversations.prefix: Damage to the Aer-Dirigible:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Afflicted by a grievous wound the Aedlos Knight known as Adryl is in dire need of medical attention.
conversations.prefix: The Wounded Lion:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Minute fractures  have appeared upon the hilirium forge of the aer-dirigible due to the duress it was placed under. If not attended it may crack the casing of the forge causing the hiirium to falter and fail.
conversations.prefix: Stress on the Engine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: To where shall the four winds take ye?
conversations.prefix: Destination Unknown:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A man who's reputation can be summed to: Captain of the aer-dirigble known as the Strumgull and as privateer for the Erorian state. All else about this lecherous scoundrel is a mystery; one he would prefer to remain unknown. 
conversations.prefix: Captain Tirian:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Swivel Cannons are low density cannons which aren't  as impactful as weighted cannons, yet due to their size they offer a oft desired aspect within cannons: mobility. 
  As the name implies Swivel Cannons and be "swiveled" in order to get optium position against targets. These cannons excel against light moving targets, yet suffer greatly in attempting to break through fortified targets. 
conversations.prefix: Swivel Cannon:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: This is one tough, but kindly, old man. The years have treated him well, but other people haven't.
  
  He's been deliberately heartbroken, tortured, drugged and interrogated, kidnapped, and had everything taken from him forever.
  
  He's smiling right now. Only reason being, no one asks him about his past in this town of Redemption.
conversations.prefix: Old Man:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: This fellow has had it all, all of the worst. No one helped him. Hell, no one helps him now. He works hard for a living, and he doesn't have much living left in him.
  
  Take a swing at him, it doesn't matter if you hit or miss, you're going to meet the toughest old man in the world.
conversations.prefix: Tougher than Anyone:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: If something bad can happen to this man, anything bad, it will happen to him.
  
  Oh, it won't kill him. Nothing kills him. He's just running a race with Job and it looks like Job already lost.
conversations.prefix: Misfortune:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You're just plumb tired of the way folk treat you, the way people find you toothless and so kick you twice. Once, to kick a toothless man, and a second time to see what it feels like barefoot.
conversations.prefix: Tired of it All:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Lady Luck hasn't been your friend lately and you are down to your last sovereign.  You are utterly desperate and will do whatever you have to in order to earn enough coin to get yourself out of Redemption's End.
conversations.prefix: Desperate:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Fortune always favors the bold!
conversations.prefix: Fortune:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yeah, I got your town smashed by an army because I don't want to starve in the wilderness, but I'm sorry.  I'm really, really sorry.  Here, buy a gum drop or two.
conversations.prefix: I'm Really Just a Nice Old Guy:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: As a leader of men, Adryl's voice carries conviction, motivating and inspiring those around him.
conversations.prefix: Lion's Roar:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A mix of local knowledge, experience, superstition, and alchemy, frontier medicine will, as the adage says, "kill or cure!"
conversations.prefix: Frontier Medicine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Malthus Benedict Garret was one of the greatest generals the Vorian Imperium.  A legendary leader of men and a formidable Mechcanicus pilot, his legacy and heroism is still revered to this day, despite the tarnish of his betrayal and the best efforts of his enemies.
conversations.prefix: The Garret Legacy:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The beast is the strength and the man is the brain. Schism draws upon his command of abstract thought to come up with a creative solution.
conversations.prefix: Ingenuity of Man:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Most Mellok fade away as their cores and bodies wither in time. You have found a way to replace the failing parts. To consume Hilirium. You have the keys for immortality.
  
  ...can you achieve it?
conversations.prefix: Immortality: