GEAR 2170

[Lord Eshmon]

2053, The creation of the Alchemic Core sparked an age of science and understanding, dwarfing the renaissance.

2057, The first cases of Titan Strain related incidents are reported. No discernible cause.

2060, Alchemic Core technology finally linked to the cause of the Titan Strain

2062, Titan Strain Infections run rampant across the world, infected numbers skyrocket sending the world into war.

2063, Development and production of large armored battle suits known as Gears begins in order to combat the Titan threat. Production starts too late and humanity slips closer and closer to annihilation.

2068, Humanity is driven into underground bunkers, and shielded domes to survive as the mammoth beasts ran rampant outside destroying the world humankind had worked so hard to create.

2170, The Gears have been woken from their long dormant state in the factories, and military bases of the old world. With these machines of war man is finally able to step out from behind his fortified safe houses and into the light of the world he used to be able to own.

Gears: Officially named Mobile Contagion, Suppression, Eradication, and Assault Suits. They where then referred to as 'GEARs' after a supposedly humorous office joke. Originally designed to combat the spread of the all-consuming Titan Strain. There initial defeat to the monstrosities created from the contagion was in part due to the reliance of the Alchemic Core technology, limiting the amount of time a pilot could stay within a suit for fear of succumbing to the contagion. Only with hindsight to this fact where later generation able to shield the cores to some decent degree greatly extending the time one is able to spend piloting a suit.
While the ability to manufacture these suits has been lost, some smiths possess knowledge of how to repair and upgrade the Gears; these smiths believe that inside a GEAR is a conscious being, which forms thoughts and connections just as humans do. Speaking to the ‘soul’ of a GEAR is said to increase the connection between it and its pilot, sometimes even granting the GEAR new hidden abilities.
It is said that a GEARs pilot is chosen by the GEAR itself. While this isn’t completely proven, it’s shown the connection rates between a GEAR and a certain individual. Likewise, when a pilot enters the first few stages of infection, the GEAR will sometimes enter a similar state altering is physiology and sometimes permanently bonding with its pilot in something of a symbiotic relationship.

GEARs come in three classes Sabre, Geist, and Sentinel

Sabre Class GEARs where the front line soldiers, capable of dealings damage effectively, and equipped with medium armor. Their maneuverability is moderate, as well as their speed, their combat ability both close and ranged rank the highest of the three classes.

Geist Class GEARs where developed to be quicker and more maneuverable that the Sabre, or Sentinel. Their purpose was to get in close to infected dens, and places where the infected liked to congregate and reproduce and eradicate them quickly. Geists where often equipped with long ranged weaponry, for spotting potential targets, but some like to use their speed to offer an advantage in close combat.

Sentinel Class GEARs are large, slow and heavily armored. They were designed to carry the heaviest weapons, chain guns, gauss cannons, other forms of artillery. But now because those weapons are in such short supply pilots use their extra thick armor to its fullest potential to soak up damage that would break other GEARs while in combat. Their armor, while reducing their speed and maneuverability greatly, it giving them an extra line of defense in a fight.

Titan Strain: The Titan Strain is metaphysical contagion that affects the body, mind, and as some might argue, the very soul of everything it comes in contact with and which seems to arise from prolonged use of the Alchemic Core, a device which warps matter and energy creating a self-sustaining reaction capable of generating massive amounts of power. Supposedly, through a radiation like method the Core releases a low dosage of the Titan Strain, the Strains horrible mutating effects dissipate if periodic breaks are taken in between exposure to the Core.
Once severely infected the Titan Strain begins to rapidly mutate and warp the afflicted body, causing it to swell, expand, and grow to massive proportions. With the mental facilities in a state of decay the mutated individual first begins to lash out at any and everything around it, then it begins to recognize other infected individual as allies.

[Lord Eshmon]

The dome city of Chauffeurs Cross has become a trade mecca in recent months with the fall of Lipton a few miles north. Caravans and traders from miles around have been forced through this city to continue on their regular trade routes, either that or brave the north-lands and the lumbers monsters that lie in the mountains. Today being a fairly busy the northwest seemed fit to burst with in coming traffic. As the noon day sun beat down hard outside the walls the series of heavy, metal dock doors grind open allowing a new swath of GEARs and caravans to enter.

A broad shouldered red GEAR stands near a docking station waiting for the automated arms to lock it into place, same with a bulky, scarred, olive colored GEAR. As the arms lock the Gears into place the fronts of their chests press forwards then slide upwards over their faces, two panels forming a upside down egg shape slide sideways allowing a mess of mechanical arms, and joints to lift a smaller exoskeleton containing their pilots. The red GEAR letting loose a Woman with spiky auburn hair, light tan skin, and large hazel eyes. The olive gear releases a seemingly well off business man, slicked back charcoal hair, and suit catching attention from all around him.

As the arms and exoskeleton retract into the GEARs docking administrators step up to each of the individuals, each with a clipboard and a series of questions. To the woman the small built pencil thin administrator asks. "Good afternoon ma'am, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions before you can be allowed into the city. Sorry we've had a few incidents this week. What, if anything, are your transporting on you, your GEAR, or in a caravan accompanying you?" The almost frail looking man scribbles something quickly as he glances from his clipboard to the woman's GEAR.

A heavy set man approaches the well off looking man. A slight lisp present in the administrators speech as he began to talk. "Hello sir, I'm going to need ask you a few questions before I can let you enter the city. What are you carrying on your persons, or with you in your GEAR, or in a caravan that might be accompanying you?" The man starts to write something on the clipboard as he looks over the business mans GEAR. Down bellow them on dock ground floor a bit of a buzz begins to spread around the workers. A few workers begins to signal all the remaining outside parties to enter quickly as they begin to shut the doors.

[Nashk-Ojiisan]

Taren sighs as he slides his hand along his slick hair as his emerald eyes adjusted to the light. Hours of being stuffed within his gear left him a bit disheveled, his hair and suit were wrinkled from humidity, and once again Taren found himself cursing himself for not fixing his environmental control sooner. With a sigh he turns to face the dockworker assigned to him, ready to answer the usual set of droll questions asked whenever he visited one of the domes.

The worker was a bit heavyset. A feature often found upon those who accepted a little more than they make, and the disgustingly toothy smile the dockworker flashed Taren as he prattled off his questions only confirmed this.

"I am not currently hauling anything of great import to you my good man. My cargo is but a few crates of fine goods I have yet to take to market." Taren gestures flashily to his gear. "However i'm sure the dock administration need not know of what I am doing here. After all why would they need to know what mundane things an average business man like me would be Hauling? Surely I could have my gear unloaded and ready for market without certain bigwigs from seeing no?"

Taren rummages around in his suit before pulling out a small but heavy pouch and gesturing toward the worker. A light breeze blows past the pair as the might doors leading to the dock finally squeeze shut, sealing the dome from the world.

"Might I make this small donation to your personal fund and a first look at my wares should you care to look, to ensure a... subtle presence around those quite greedy tax-collectors?" Taren prattles with a charismatic smile, and arm around the dock worker. Doing so the red gear across the way catches his eye. The graceful, yet powerful gear distracted his attention for a moment as he watched the occupant disembark from the impressive piece of machinery. A woman with spiky hair, tan skin, and a sharp look in her eyes. This momentarily distraction didnt last long however as he returned to the business of the bribe...

[Lady Kuri]

Red disembarked from her GEAR, stretching her arms toward the roof of the dome. The soft rumble of the city washed over her. She smiled, taking a deep breath of fresh air. As the dock worker came toward she arched her eyebrow curiously. The slight man adressed her, and a tired smirk stretched across her face.

"The only things in my GEAR are a few personal items." She thumbed toward a pack clipped onto her belt, resting against her thigh. "There's not much to see but you can check it out if you want."

She ran her fingers through her hair, tousling it to keep it from sticking to her perspiring forehead. Red had become a person who avoided the cities, but she needed fresh supplies, and sleep - in a real bed. Red had been on the road for months now, and this was only the second city she had stopped at. The wastes were a harsh place, but in her GEAR at least she could go on for weeks without needing to stop for more than an hour or so.

The thin man seemed occupied with his writing. For a moment she tried to see what he was writing about, but then became distracted by the busy loading dock. The gear next to hers was impressively battle worn, commanding the respect of an old war hero. She looked around for the pilot and was surprised by the sharply dressed business man talking to the dock worker. The light breeze distracted her again, bringing cool relief as the doors were shut.

[Lord Eshmon]

The heavy set man smiles, running a hand through his greasy hair. Before writing marking through a few lines on the paper on his clipboard.

"Welcome to Chauffeurs Cross Mr. Smith, I hope you enjoy your visit here." The dockworker says holding out his hand palm up, making sure to keep the gesture hidden from other passing dockworkers.

The thin dockworker nods as Red talks. "That's fine ma'am, I just needed to make sure you're not transporting anything that would require a tax or administrative processing. But Since it looks like you're not carrying anything like that so I'll just finish up my report back in my office, you have a nice visit ma'am." The small man says in tired hurried words, dark bags under his eyes visible, a hurried pace to his movement and speech as he finishes writing, smiles and nods to Red before leaving.

Suddenly over the portly dockworkers radio goes off, he clutches the small device at his waist and turns the volume down. The message however was still heard over other near by workers radios.

The first voice, a young man, starts over the radio. "Um we got something big out here, I mean huge..."
A second voice follows, a old male voice. "Is it one of those monsters from the north again?"

"No, no it's not walking and it looks like a machine if some kind..." The first voice says.

"A machine.....wait....head office just got a friendly call from whatever is out there." A long pause follows the second voice. "Open the doors, it looks like we're letting 'em in."

"...Alright." The younger voice says.

The large doors begin to open slowly. The first thing to come into view from the other side of the door was a man, he appeared to be dressed in all black, accompanied by three other men, fours cargo moving trucks, and a small army of greasy, dirty, mechanics. The man in black looks around, clutching something in his teeth but the distance made distinguishing features impossible. He leans to a elderly man at his side and says something.

The elderly man stays to talk with the man in black as the rest of the new arrivals disperse over the docks. The discussion between the two stops a a dock official approaches the two men.

[Nashk-Ojiisan]

Taren adjusted his tie as the transaction completed. He smiled smugly to himself as he began moving toward the end of the dock that would allow him to head down and leave the area. However before he could make it halfway the dockworkers began to shout to each other. Curious Taren paused to listen to the excitable dock workers.

The massive doors opened once again. Letting four trucks and an absolute mob of what seemed like dirty workmen funnel through the creaking doors. At the forefront from what Taren could tell, was a man dressed in black having a conversation with a distinguished older gentleman.

Curiosity took hold of the shrewed business man for a moment. Such a large group traveling through the dessert surely could make use of arms, and the men up front looked like they had some coin. Mayhap he could finally offload the extra crates he had left over from his last big haul. Making a mental note to perhaps track down the group for sale later, he smiles and turns to continue down the end of the walk.

Further back on the walk the massive Olive colored GEAR begins shooting steam into the air. Forming a large cloud that billows through the room, making for quite the atmospheric scene.

[Lady Kuri]

She nodded in thanks to the dock worker, and began to make her way down the platform. Red felt the door open before turning to look to see the commotion. She clung to the railing, and watched as the caravan entered.

She continued down to the end of the docks, her boots clunking down the stairs so she could enter the city proper.

[Lord Eshmon]

Chauffeurs Cross was a fairly large domed city, however its population had reached a record high once trade began in mass. It seemed like the city was separated into two districts, the outer most was made of slums and industry. The middle of the dome composed the better of district, surrounding a large tower which seemed to hold up the center of the domes ceiling. Green streams of light pulse up the central tower, before being dispersed somewhere within the dome itself, most people knew that these lights where energy flowing to the external shield arrays, others liked to fantasize that they might be more.

The streets seemed crowded, shanties practical forcing you to be near their inhabitants before you could get to any proper form of transportation. A Large building with a set of rails sticking from either side of it seemed a hub of attention with the big glowing words "TRAM" above the glass doors. Inside it appeared people were waiting along a boarding platform for a train of some kind. In a few brief moment a long silver hexagonal tram slides into the station stopping at the platform. The doors from the docks being left open didn't impede the view of the masses of people waiting on the tram, other simply looking for a handout.

Small stalls hand been crafted out of cardboard and tape and set along walkways for peddlers to try and make a few bucks, they carried nothing of high value, mostly small pieces of hand-made, folk, art. One of the people looked familiar, or at least his clothing did. Grease, and dirt stained. A pair of denim overalls, thick leathers gloves, a button up denim shirt, and a pair of heavy boots. He arrived with the current caravan. This filthy young boy, with a mop top of what is hoped to be naturally black hair clutched a package tightly in his hands as if it held some great importance.

[Nashk-Ojiisan]

Deep within the winding stalls and shoddy cardboard Taren found himself casually browsing the stalls and pretending he was actually interested in buying the quaint but ultimately worthless baubles. It was an old trick he learned long ago as a merchant. Buy something you have little interest in to get the money moving, grab some information, or perhaps to just open an ear to the ground. He mingled with the more scrabby looking of the bunch. The ones most likely to be at the bottom of the social hierarchy would also be the most likely to have the information he could use.

After all the business was done and Taren found an easy place to toss the useless baubles, he couldn't help but notice a kid with the most absolutely filthy hair wandering through the streets. He was clutching some sort of package, and seemed to be wearing a similar garb as to that caravan that had passed through recently. Remembering his mental note to see if he could make contact with the caravan, he casually began to follow the boy.

[Lady Kuri]

Red maneuvered herelf through the crowd, glancing at the shoddy products at the stalls. She received a few whistles in her direction, tempting her to turn and look at the wares of some pauper merchant. A new wave of people disembarking the tram rushed passed her and she was bumped, pushed and shoved out of the way.

Red gently sighed, lightly stepping out of the way of a straggling commuter only to run into another. This is why she had taken to avoiding the cities. All the crowding was already on her nerves but continued to weave her way through the streets anyway, thinking through all the things that had to get done before she left.

She was distracted from her thoughts when out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a small hand reaching toward her waist. Frighteningly fast she caught the young boys hand as it touched the pouch handing on her belt. The kid flinched struggling to yank his hand away. She let him go, and he cursed her before spitting at her feet and running off. Red frowned as she watched the kid race off. She felt her front pockets, nothing was missing. Back pockets, nothing was missing. She reached down to check her pack, and found it had already been unzipped. Reaching inside her frown turned into a scowl.

With eyes narrowed she raced after the kid, weaving in and out of the congested streets. It didn't take long for her to find him, and he had even found a new traveler to steal from... a man in a fine looking business suit, recognizable from the docks.

"Hey!" She regretted her decision to shout the moment the kid turned around to stare at her with guilty wide eyes.

[Lord Eshmon]

The sudden shout alerted the boy carrying the package, the business man following him, and the young pickpocket directly behind him attempting to nip something from the well dressed mans back pocket. The whole procession had traveled a fair distance from tram station and was now near the more industrial section of the district. The air tasted of heated metal and soot almost the to point of disgust.

The boy with the package takes a few looks at the well dressed man, the pickpocket and the woman running after them. With a look of panic the boy debates running but is stopped by the deep voice of a man as he seems to push from the crowd.

"damn thiefs.." He says backhanding the pickpocket sending him sprawling at the womans feet as she approaches. He was a man larger around the middle, and dressed in expensive looking casual wear. "Taren, I can hardly believe it and I'm standing right here. Its been what a year? two?. Last time I saw you was in... Riffton right?" The large and equally well dressed man was Joe Vicoseli, Joe or Joe Vic to those who knew him well. He was a well accomplished businessman, specializing in the manufacture of vehicle parts, and distribution.

"Yeah, it was in Riffton I remember now. I couldn't believe my eyes, there I was waiting on a couple of packages to come in and I saw you. Come on, let me buy ya a drink so's we can catch up a little huh?" As the man speaks the boy with the package says. "Joe Viccoseli?"

"Yeah, what you got there kid? You been stealing from my friend here too?" Joe says with a frown, point from the kid t Taren. The kid shakes his head hurriedly and pushes the package forward for Joe to see it. Joe takes a look at the label and mumbles. "Well here ones..." as he takes the package from the kid and hands him a few small silvery coins. The kids smiles, gives thanks and scoots past them preparing to leave. "So how bout that drink?"

[Nashk-Ojiisan]

Taren pauses as the chaotic and confusing scene rolls out before him. He was used to chaos of course, one should always expect murphy to intervene in even the most mundane of things. This didn't stop Taren from doing a double take when seeing an old friend, especially when he is stopping a thief from taking his money!

"Joe? Ol pink eye Joe? Is that you?" Taren exclaims rushing forward to clasp his massive hands, promptly forgetting about the boy and the package. "Its been too long! What are you doing here?"

[Lady Kuri]

She scooped up the pickpocket by the collar, and crouched down so she was about at his level. "Cough it up, kid." She grumbled. The boy placed the small clip of money in her hands. She stood straight again, and flipped through the bills with one hand. When she saw it was all there she smiled, and with a small amount of guilt pushed two worn looking bills into his hands and told him to get lost.

Quickly, so as not to interrupt the mens conversation she touched the larger of the two on the shoulder, uttered a polite thanks.

Red turned and began to head back in favor of finding a more commercial center. Absentmindedly she touched her stomach thinking about her need for food.

[Lord Eshmon]

"Ah, you know me. I can smell a profit from across the wastes, I saw this here place turning into a mecca and decided to stake my claim early. Get this, there are deposits of ore for mines around and I'm talking the rich stuff not the brittle crap they dig up near the western ridges, this stuff's completely untouched, the yokels here haven't even bothered with 'em. So I thought, being the nice guy I am, that I'd just stop by and help them get things moving, for a small price of course." Joe gives a keen smile. "But Taren I just can't seem to figure why you're here, taking a vacation, cause believe me there's better places."

As Red taps him on the shoulder Joe stops talking. "Hey you don't look like a regular around here either, Taren she with you?" He says flashing Taren a shoddy grin, his grin fades as he looks past Taren and further down the street. Near the entrance of a large factory looking building stood a figure. The man dressed in black from earlier at the docks. The man stopped in front of the building and looked around before grabbing the handle and opening a side door to enter.

"Ah, he's early. Look there's someone I'd love you to meet, he's a loon really but trust me he's a guy you wanna know if you're gonna make money out here. Come on the both of ya." Joe says wraping his arms around the shoulders of Red and Taren practically dragging them down the street with him, never ceasing in his ramblings. Finally after half a block, and a hallway they arrive at a wooden door to Joe's executive office which overlooked the factory floor of the buildings interior. The man in black stood, hands jammed into the pockets of his jumpsuit which appeared black in color but the way it flaked with ever move he made lead to believe it had no always been this color.

He stood looking out of the large glass windows behind a large wooden desk and leather chair, hair hiding his face from direct view except for his chin which only held more hair. His shoulders where broad as was most of his body. Slowly the man removes one hand from his pocket and holds up his hand in a halfhearted gesture, which was supposed to be a wave.

"I hope you don't mind, I let myself in..."The man at the window says, his voice low, calm, and deep.

"Of course not Anton my home is your home, hey, I got the package. I can't thank you enough, you sure I can't interest you in a.." Joe begins.

"No, I'm not one for city life.....to many people.....to many pigeon....with their soulless eyes, staring, judging......rats with wings." Anton says as he slowly begins to turn from the window. "I'm comfortable where I am now, as for thanks I accept monetary donations, food, and souls....care to bargain?" He says smiling as he fully comes to face the trio. His smiles was broad but showed no teeth, his eyes seemed to catch fire in the light giving them a piercing dead stare.

"Ah, always a kidder." Joe says laughing releasing the his two partners and walking over behind the desk. He opens the drawer and pulls out a briefcase and sets it on the desk opening it fro Anton to see. "Fifty thousand pounds, as promised."

Anton picks up on of the rectangular silvery coins before setting it back in the case and closing it. For a quick moment he looks from Taren to Red as if trying to calculate something.

"This is my friend Taren and his lady frien..." Joe again starts.

"You talk to much Joe....." Anton interrupts. "The woman isn't with him, no, no compulsory inclinations towards his direction, or even a fleeting glance of recognition.....expressions....." Seeming to trail off in thought before seeming to come back.

"They don't know each other... you know mistakes like this are why people get extensions....or was it executions.....no matter let me be the first to extend me hand...s, hands in welcome, I am Anton, bored, annoyed and very hungry."

Approaching the pair he extends his arms before crossing one over the other in a handshake directed at either party. Small flakes of soot and ash drift from his hands to the floor as he pushes them forwards, his skin a dark tan and probably not from long periods in the sun.

[Nashk-Ojiisan]

Taren's was far less than impressed at the man named Anton. He was incredibly dirty with soot and other... things falling from his body. A large quantity of hair obscured most of his face, and his manners were in desperate need for improvement. Nevertheless Taren extended his hand in response to this man's odd gesture to shake. No need to be rude himself after all, and one doesnt make business contacts with vinegar. Well except that one time in costco....

"Nice to meet you Mr. er... Anton. I am Taren, a business man visiting the city due to circumstances outside my control. I couldn't help but notice you, and coincidentally, this woman over here when I first came into the docks. Quite the impressive display you had there."