Shadowgrange was dead. Donavich knew this in his heart even as it trembled from dawn til dusk. The town had never been a metropolis or even a center for the rallying forces of cathars and hunters that passed through the outland valleys, but time had looked upon the town with vindictive disdain. In the flickering candlelight of the barren church, he tried his very best to pray, calloused pale hands clutching a silvered collar with all of the faith he had left. But after enough time passes faith is not a shield anymore. It is a tether.

And he wasn’t sure how much he had left.

His blood was so close to the surface, beating beating beating feebly but steady below the skin. In the quiet luminescence he felt the wounds and marks across himself, scarred, scabbed, and open in varying states of healing. He hoped it would be enough. But the scratching, a devilish and constant needle through his thoughts told him it wasn’t. He need be a provider once more.

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Their job finally complete and a foothold for a colony established, the Brilliant Resolve and her crew make way to their next destination. On their way to Footfall, the crew once again encounters the horrors of the warp. Their trip is filled with hallucinations, damage to the ship, and even possession. Having earned some shore leave, they set out to find a retired navy general to be the administrator of their new colony.

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Ismark Kolyanovich is a confidant man. The world was hung heavy on his strong shoulders since childhood, and many things have left him in shadows of fate and grandeur of others that he felt he had not deserved. But earning your own grandeur is a luxury to the free. And despite his stature and good looks, he is most certainly not free.

“I have faith Ireena.” he says, breaking the silence in the still and ravaged wooden room. The woman known as Ireena, deep red haired and dark skinned, stands opposing him as the sole other occupant of their once lavish quarters. “When was the last time we’ve had someone new?”

Dark eyes scowl at him in reply as she perches herself on the edge of the stripped countertop. He shakes his head, feeling the weight of the world in his tense neck. “I hope you’ll listen when they come back.” he says after what feels like hours deadlocked in stillness. “And if they don’t?” It’’s a sharp, immediate reply. Her still face and dead words fill the room as he tries to think of an answer. He doesn’t. And the day goes on, until it becomes night.

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Shortly after this group of perfectly normal kids went to a perfectly normal class outing to the local theater, finding themselves literally immersed in the show.  They discovered walking behind the set that things were more complex than they appeared on the stage and that the lead actor may in fact be in danger from the goings on.  It’s up to them to stop it.

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A major windfall comes for the crew of the Brilliant Resolve.  In the encounters on her SOS response, Faydra has ended up with the Irradial Cogitator known as “Dead Heat.”  She now has it back on her ship and at her mercy for questioning and buckled down to a seat in a makeshift brig.  They find that he constructed the new megaweapon for The Schismaticus Collective on commission, with no particular ties to the organization.  In asking for help on how to destroy his creation, Dead Heat suggests that it may be far less simple than Faydra hoped.

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