Ultraviolet Odyssey Part 6

This is the sixth part of a solo, narrative campaign within the Ultraviolet Grasslands RPG setting, created by Luka Rejec. The text was generated by the Chat GPT large language model, plus Sudowrite, with multiple generations and further responses spliced together and edited. Some of prompts to generate the text were taken from the UVG sourcebook and/or fan materials. UVG and the Vastlands setting are  the intellectual property of Luka Rejec. This campaign log is unaffiliated with either WTF Studio or Luka Rejec.

The adventurers Karnelia di’Orca, Jalosti i’Grati and Arcia Bodizie are travelling through the Azure Ruins on their way to the Violet City.

Karnelia di'Orca is a tall and slender figure, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. She wears a flowing red robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery, and carries a staff topped with a blood-red crystal. A single black vertebra is visible at the base of her neck, marking her as a member of the secretive wine vampire order.

Jalosti i'Grati is a short and stocky purple-skinned young wizard, with a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. He wears a flowing purple robe, and rides a machine horse that shimmers with shades of rust and metal. In his hand, he holds a staff of polished black wood, etched with arcane symbols.

Arcia Bodizie is a rugged and weather-beaten Safranjina, with a scar running down her cheek and a patch over one eye. She is dressed in a patchwork of scavenged clothing, with a long, flowing coat of dark blue and a bandana tied around her head. She carries a curved sword at her side, a sign of her status as an exiled pirate. A small furry mutant vole sits perched on her shoulder, giggling at anyone who pets it.

Soundtrack: 'Snake Eyes', Somnus Throne.

Chapter 13

As the sun began to set in the west, bathing the Porcelain Citadel in hues of pink and orange, a sense of despondency settled over the three adventurers. They had encountered several reactionary Porcelain Princes on their journey, and it seemed like every turn they took led to another unpleasant encounter. Jocasti had hoped that the abmortal wizards might have been willing to share knowledge of the goal of their quest, Null Object of Desire. But after a day of unhappy interactions, the prospects of assistance from the Princes seemed very remote. Uncertain of what lay ahead, they trudged on, a gloomy mood palpable in the air.

"We should find somewhere to rest and regroup," said Arcia, her brow furrowed in thought. "There must be a place in this town where we won't be judged for being outsiders."

After asking around, they eventually stumbled upon a place called 'Your Life Burns Faster in this House', a radical house known for its loud music and even louder politics. It was painted pink, decorated with a variety of brightly-colored graffiti and vibrant protest artwork. It quaked to the beat of doom-laden hymns as a crowd around it swayed and postured. As they approached the door, they could hear the sound of pounding drums and wailing guitars emanating from within.

"This looks like the place for us," said Karnelia with a grin.

They pushed open the door and stepped inside, immediately greeted by a thick cloud of pungent smoke. The room was filled with a motley assortment of people, ranging from Redland District radicals to pseudo-dwarves, all huddled together in small groups, talking in hushed tones. They felt a sense of relief wash over them. This was a place for radicals and rebels, a place where they could plot and plan their next steps without fear of persecution.

Syruss Sensible, the proprietor of the establishment, greeted them warmly as they entered. He was a tall, slender figure with a sharp suit adorned with pins and a neatly trimmed handlebar moustache that curved around his lips.

"Welcome, welcome!" Syruss exclaimed as he led the adventurers to a table. His voice resonated with a smooth baritone, an inviting timbre that filled the adventurers with a sense of ease.

"I'm Syruss Sensible, and this is Your Life Burns Faster in this House. The place where anything goes and the revolution never sleeps. This is a place for rebels, outcasts and mischief makers.”

As they settled into their seats, Syruss gestured throughout the smoky bar, hand-rolling a cigarette between his fingers. He pointed out the gruff Redland District radicals, the short chubby pseudo-dwarves, and even a group of Porcelain Princes who were fed up with the conservative ways of their kin.

"So, what brings you three to our little corner of the world?" Syruss asked, leaning back in his chair.

"We are travelling to the Black City, on a mission from the Cat Lords," replied Jocasti.

Syruss's eyes widened with curiosity, and he leaned forward in his chair. "The Cat Lords? That is an interesting mission indeed! What could they possibly be wanting with you?"

"Archon Kynosophia has tasked us with seeking an audience with the Grand Observer," Karnelia responded, solemnly. She frowned. The trio were far from home, yet the Black City still seemed an impossible distance away. "Our problem is that... we are almost out of money and supplies, and lack any means of locomotion."

Syruss nodded, thoughtful. "Yes, yes, I can see why the Cats of Violet City would prefer to send others on such an arduous journey. But rest assured, I am sure that the Grand Observer is a patient and wise figure. I am sure you will get your audience." Syruss smiled, before taking a long drag of his cigarette. "And for tonight, you are welcome to stay here as my guests. But first, let me ask you something: do you truly wish to defy the Porcelain Princes?"

The adventurers nodded. 

"Then I have just the thing. It is a rare form of locomotion called the Caravan of Bones. It is powered by the spirit of those who have passed, and it is capable of navigating the most dangerous terrain. It's theft would be a great setback for those pompous autocrats, and a great boon for the three of you."

"But how do we gain access to this caravan?" asked Arcia.

"I can show you a method," replied Syruss, confidence in his voice. "But be warned - the journey will not be easy. The Princes will be after you, and the route further west via the Last Serai will be impossible for you. You will have no choice but to cross the Trail of Vomish Dreams."

The adventurers looked at one another and nodded in unison.

Yes, they were ready.

"Superb," declared Syruss. "Tonight, however, we celebrate."

And with that, Syruss led the trio to the bar and presented them with an array of exotic drinks. Karnelia, Jalosti, and Arcia couldn't help but overhear the heated debates happening all around them.

"The Porcelain Princes have had their way for far too long," said a young woman with bright purple hair. "It's time for us to take back our power and control our own lives."

"Hear, hear!" cried out a deep-voiced pseudo-dwarf.

It was clear that the bar was a haven for rebels and miscreants, a place where the laws of the Porcelain Princes held no sway. The adventurers smiled, for the first time in days feeling the warmth of community and the courage of revolution. They had found an unlikely ally in Syruss Sensible, and with him, a way to both challenge the Porcelain Prince and continue their journey to the Black City.

Jocasti grinned and raised his glass, admiring the red hue of the ale. Happily swigging the cherry beer, struck up a conversation with an elf wearing a heavily embroidered robe and tall leather boots. Where its right hand should have been, a steel prosthetic gleamed in the light.

"Believe me," the elf assured him "Syruss's owes his position to his hats. A turban made from titanium silk and a feathered bonnet fit for a king or queen. A beret knitted from witch-wool and velvet cap from the distant East. Each hat is imbued with remarkable powers that could unlock secret portals, summon storms or even deflect bullets."

Jalosti was fascinated. But then again, Syruss didn't seem to be wearing a hat that evening. Maybe magical hats were only for special occasions.

He noticed, however, that Karnelia looked troubled. She had been relieved as he and Arcia had been to find the radical house, but he noticed that she kept glancing nervously at the group of Redland revolutionists.

"Karnelia, if I may be so bold, I noticed that you seemed troubled when you heard these people talking about the Redland revolution," Jalosti said tentatively.

Karnelia breathed a deep sigh and turned to face him. "I think that the people of Redland have a right to fight for their freedom," she said slowly. "But I also believe that there must be other ways to achieve justice without resorting to violence and chaos." She paused for a moment, her intense garnet eyes meeting Jalosti's gaze.

"Landslaaf and freiwerker alike have been oppressed by the great estates for centuries," she continued. "It's true that the estates must be challenged, but I fear that the bloody revolution is only bringing more misery and suffering. I believe that revolution must be guided by compassion and reason, not rage and vengeance."

Arcia, however, was getting on famously with the huddle of Redland revolutionary veterans. She felt a sudden urge to join in the political debate and began a passionate diatribe against the injustices she had seen. But before she could finish, a voice rose above the crowd.

"Let's have some fun!" someone shouted. "Who wants to join me in the dancing contest?".

Arcia found herself surrounded by an eager crowd of revelers. She felt compelled to join them; her feet quickened as the music blared and she began to move. All eyes were on Arcia as she danced with grace and confidence; soon enough everyone had joined in, some clapping along while others twirled beside her. As she danced, her movements were met with cheers from those around her until finally it came time for someone to be crowned champion. She was presented, quite incongruously, with a pie.

Afterwards, they agreed that one of the last things they could remember of the night. Each recalled a round of Cherenkov cherry vodka shots, and the disconcerting sense of travelling very rapidly whilst standing still – or at least swaying on the spot.  They awoke under bar tables with heads ringing, surrounded by upturned chairs and broken glass. Someone had picked their pockets of their few remaining coins.

Syruss strolled into the bar, impossibly well-composed. "I hope you enjoyed our hospitality last night. Now, let me explain how you are going to steal the Caravan of Bones."

 

Chapter 14

As the three adventurers sat in the dimly lit barroom of "Your Life Burns Faster in this House", the purple light of dawn peering through the shutters, Syruss Sensible laid out a plan for them to steal the Caravan of Bones.

"Now, the Caravan of Bones is guarded by a group of Porcelain Princes at all times," Syruss explained, "But they are creatures of habit and follow a strict schedule. If you can catch them off guard, we can steal the caravan and make our escape."

Karnelia, Jalosti, and Arcia nodded attentively. Syruss pulled out a small, intricately carved wand from his waistcoat. "I have procured a Femur Wand for you, Jalosti. It should allow you to control the Caravan. And I have procured disguises for all three of you. If you pretend to be a single polybody Prince, it should be enough to get you close enough to the caravan without arousing suspicion. Practice moving in synchrony to make the disguise more convincing."

Syruss then presented each of them with a porcelain mask, each with a different cerulean symbol painted on the cheek. The adventurers quickly donned their disguises, thanked Syruss for his help and shook his hand. Waiting until dusk, they followed his instructions to the Porcelain Prince's encampment.

As the shadows stretched East, the adventurers crept towards the guarded caravan, their steps in synchrony. Jalosti held the Femur Wand tightly in her hand as they approached, ready to take control of the vehicle at a moment's notice. As they approached the Caravan of Bones, he could feel a strange, almost malign energy emanating from the vehicle, as if it has been cursed to never move again. It appeared to be a wheeled white barge ten strides long.

The guards were just as Syruss had described them: a small group of the Princes' minions, well-armed and alert. They were adorned in ceremonial armor and carrying long spears tipped with razor sharp white blades, with holstered machine-pistols at their sides. Karnelia, Arcia, and Jalosti made their way through the camp, using their porcelain masks and their practiced movements to blend in until they finally reached the side of the Caravan of Bones. Up close, they could see that the bones composing the caravan were knitted together, weaving in and out of one another, forming a morbid tapestry. Karnelia realised that into the bones were carved symbols of death and resurrection. It rumbled eerily, like a sleeping beast awoken from slumber.

A loud voice bellowed from the encampment.

"Hey! Who goes there?"

Karnelia stepped forward, her voice firm and confident.

"I am the Porcelain Prince Malfyr 3-Adjutant. I have been sent to inspect the caravan on behalf the Ageless Society." Arcia and Jalosti attempted to mimic her gestures as she spoke. "We have been reliably informed that there have been inappropriate innovations in how the Caravan of Bones is being guarded. Naturally, this of great concern to us given the importance of this most cherished heirloom."

"It appears you are who you say you are," the guard said gruffly, "You may go ahead and inspect the caravan."

Karnelia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as they continued their mission in silence.

Jalosti whispered a few words of arcane, and the Femur Wand came to life. With a few more words, the caravan began to move, its wheels creaking and grinding.

The adventurers quickly leapt inside the vehicle, Arcia at the helm, Jalosti animating the vehicle with the Femur Wand.

"Halt! Stop in the name of the Citadel!" The guards, or rather  shouted and began running towards them with a spear in hand.

Karnelia stepped out onto the side of the carriage and prepared to fight off any pursuers, her eyes narrowed against the wind as she bent low into an attack stance. The guard ran forward but was no match for Karnelia's speed and skill. She deftly parried his strikes with her crystal-topped staff, sending him stumbling back each time until he tumbled to the ground.

The roar of gunfire filled the air, loud and relentless as the guards unleashed a barrage of bullets from their machine-pistols. Bullets ricocheted off the bone chassis of the caravan, sending chips of bone flying like hail.

Karnelia flung herself against the deck of the caravan, but Jalosti cried out, clutching his arm.

"Jalosti! Are you ok?!" Arcia cried out, her voice full of fear and worry.

Jalosti gritted his teeth against the pain, but held tight hold of the Femur Wand. Karnelia crawled along the deck towards him, and used her vampire priestess skills to command the blood seeping from Jalosti's arm to coagulated and staunch.

Soon enough, the gunfire faded into the night, and they were on their way to safety. They quickly left the camp behind them, until the only sound that filled their ears was the grinding of bone wheels against dirt road.

A large stony figure passed by them on the left of the Caravan, and with a feeling of sinking horror Arcia remembered the sentry golems. Syruss's plan had not accounted for them. Behind them eyes of the golem began to glow. But the terrible blast of burning lightning Arcia anticipated was never unleashed. For some reason, the defence tower would not fire on the ancient ossuary vehicle.

Karnelia let out a sigh of relief, but it was quickly replaced by concern as she remembered how weak Jalosti had become. He needed rest, and fast.

The caravan creaked and groaned as they travelled through the night. Arcia kept her gaze glued to the stars, both for navigation purposes and so that she would not have to look at the macabre sight of bones around her. The pulse from the wand continued to fill the air with a gentle hum, calming Arcia's nerves until eventually, exhaustion overcame them all and they fell asleep in their skeletal waggon.

The caravan rolled through the night, the adventurers slipping through the Porcelain Princes' grip and towards the Black City.

Ultraviolet Odyssey Post Directory

This is a list of all the posts from the Ultraviolet Odyssey solo story campaign.

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4.

Part 5.

Part 6.

Part 7.

Part 8.

Part 9.

Ultraviolet Odyssey Part 5

This is the fifth part of a solo, narrative campaign within the Ultraviolet Grasslands RPG setting, created by Luka Rejec. The text was generated by the Chat GPT large language model, plus Sudowrite, with multiple generations and further responses spliced together and edited. Some of prompts to generate the text were taken from the UVG sourcebook and/or fan materials. UVG and the Vastlands setting are  the intellectual property of Luka Rejec. This campaign log is unaffiliated with either WTF Studio or Luka Rejec.

The adventurers Karnelia di’Orca, Jalosti i’Grati and Arcia Bodizie are travelling through the Azure Ruins on their way to the Violet City.

Karnelia di'Orca is a tall and slender figure, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. She wears a flowing red robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery, and carries a staff topped with a blood-red crystal. A single black vertebra is visible at the base of her neck, marking her as a member of the secretive wine vampire order.

Jalosti i'Grati is a short and stocky purple-skinned young wizard, with a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. He wears a flowing purple robe, and rides a machine horse that shimmers with shades of rust and metal. In his hand, he holds a staff of polished black wood, etched with arcane symbols.

Arcia Bodizie is a rugged and weather-beaten Safranjina, with a scar running down her cheek and a patch over one eye. She is dressed in a patchwork of scavenged clothing, with a long, flowing coat of dark blue and a bandana tied around her head. She carries a curved sword at her side, a sign of her status as an exiled pirate. A small furry mutant vole sits perched on her shoulder, giggling at anyone who pets it.

Soundtrack: 'Patient Number 9', Ozzy Osbourne.

Chapter 11

The journey through the scrubland of the Potsherd Crater was long and arduous. The heat was oppressive, and the adventurers had to navigate their way through winding trails, rocky outcrops, and dense thickets. Along the way, they encountered various strange creatures, including loping albino jackals and shimmering mirage snakes.

The adventurers were thankful for the presence of the Porcelain Princes and their great porcelain walker, the shade of which served as a welcome respite from the scorching sun. The massive machine towered above them, its elegant legs striding across the barren landscape with ease. The Princes, however, were not particularly hospitable hosts. They were a conservative group of polybody wizards, known for their ability to synchronize their various bodies using glandular links. They were also notorious for their snobbery and disdain for outsiders, which made their company somewhat insufferable.

Despite their poor attitude, the Princes knew the way to the Porcelain Citadel, so the adventurers were forced to put up with them. As they trudged through the parched landscape, the Princes regaled the adventurers with tales of their grand exploits and accomplishments, but they paid little attention to the needs of their companions. Jalosti, nonetheless, studied them with a keen eye, determined to learn all he could from these masterful sorcerers. From talking to the slave porters, the group had discovered that the three Princes were a single collective referred to as Jaun Luque 3-Team. He was keen to persevere, despite the arduous nature of the journey, and reach the famous Porcelain Citadel. Arcia, however, scowled at the Princes' treatment of their porters, but remained silent for fear of causing a rift.

Eventually, the landscape changed from the dusty scrubland to a more verdant terrain, with fields of flowering tubers, verdant mouse-trees and babbling brooks. This fertile terrain gave way, in turn, to the grasses of the Ultraviolet steppe.

As the adventurers made their way across the steppe, they encountered a group of Lime Nomads, shepherding their flocks to better grazing grounds. The nomads were wary of the adventurers at first, but after some negotiation and the exchange of a few of the group’s fast-depleting supply of coins, they were willing to provide them with food for their journey. The nomads were a proud and hardy people, accustomed to living in the harsh and unforgiving environment of the steppe. Jalosti enquired about the charms and amulets they wore with a scholar’s curiosity, and the nomads were in turn fascinated by the student wizard’s account of the Cat Lords of the Violet City.  The nomads kept their distance from the Porcelain Walker, however. ‘Body takers,’ said one, gesturing subtly towards the Princes as they picnicked.

Half a week later, the adventurers were suddenly ambushed by a pack of crawling nettle plants. The plants were semi-ambulatory, using their long, spiny tendrils to move across the ground with surprising speed. They tried to grasp anyone within reach with their sharp, barbed leaves.

Karnelia was nearly enveloped by the plants, her pale skin prickling with their sharp thorns. The nettles’ vines heir writhed and twisted as they lunged at the other adventurers. Jalosti's Flames of the Unforgiven Arsonist spell spluttered out, unable to ignite the damp vegetation. Arcia hacked at the plants with her sword, her muscles straining as she fought alongside Glim to keep the vindictive plants at bay. The plants continued to crawl and attack, their thorns lashing out at the adventurers with deadly precision.

Despite their best efforts, the adventurers were no match for the nettles. But just as they were about to be overwhelmed, one of Jaun Luque 3-Team’s bodies stepped forward on the viewing platform of the Walker, brandishing a high calibre game rifle. With a sharp crack, he fired at the heart of the nettle bush, blowing it apart in a shower of leaves. Arcia and Glim made short work of the remaining tendrils.

"Well, I suppose we couldn't leave you to be devoured by those vile plants," the Porcelain Prince sneered, lowering his rifle. “But try not to be a liability again in future. We're merely tolerating your presence on our journey to the Porcelain Citadel. You should have thought of the dangers before you left the Rainbowlands. But I suppose it's too late to turn back now. Just make sure to keep up and don't cause any more trouble."

"We'll do our best, Prince," Arcia said, gritting her teeth. "We'll try not to be a burden on your group."

"See that you do," the Prince said, turning away and climbing back onto the Great porcelain walker. "Now, let's move on. We've wasted enough time on these foolish adventurers."

As the sun began to set, the adventurers set up camp for the evening. Karnelia sat off to the side, rubbing salve onto the painful nettle wounds that covered her skin.

Arcia joined her, pulling out a small flask of wine that she had swiped from the disastrous party at Satrasco’s. "Here, this will help take the edge off the pain," she said, offering the flask to Karnelia. Although it was a fruity Greenlander wine rather than the rich elixir of the Redlands, it was an excellent vintage and Karnelia appreciated the gesture.

As the adventurers sat around the campfire, Glim stared into the flames, lost in thought. After a moment, he spoke up, his voice low and gravelly.

"I used to be a Cogflower executioner," he said, his eyes fixed on the fire. "I carried out countless executions, taking the lives of those deemed unworthy by the banker-priests. I did what I was told, without question or hesitation. I thought I was serving a higher purpose, the noble goals of the Cogflower hierarchy."

The other adventurers stared at Glim in shock, unsure of how to react.

"But then I realized the futility of it all," Glim continued. " The things I was asked to do...they were heinous, immoral. I couldn't keep taking lives without question. So… I fled, running from my past."

"We don't judge you, Glim," Karnelia said, reaching out to touch his arm. "We're all running from something. It's what we do with our present and future that matters."

Glim nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I'm grateful to have found companions like you on this journey."

The adventurers sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

In the morning, Glim was gone.

Chapter 12

The adventurers followed Jaun Luque 3-Team and his entourage of slaves along the dusty roads of the steppe, travelling for several days. With Glim gone, Karnelia took up the lead as the group made their way towards the Porcelain Citadel. The trail stretched on through the monotonous landscape of tufty grass and scrubby bushes until the perfect ramparts of the castle finally came into view.

The Porcelain Citadel loomed in the distance, a great ivory-colored fist standing proud against the horizon, it's index and little finger outstretched in defiance of the gods. Behind its impressive façade, an entire civilization had sprung up around the Citadel. Pale buildings of all kinds clustered around it on a hilltop overlooking twin lakes. They could see other long-legged Walkers moving with uncanny grace among the low buildings at the foot of the hill. Around the perimeter stood a series of anthropomorphic towards facing towards the steppe, their eyes glowing with ferocity.

The adventurers continued on to the city, passing through an orchard of strange trees. The trunks were tall and slender, and the branches hung heavy with ripe red fruits that glowed with eerie blue foxfire in the waning daylight. Karnelia recognized them immediately - they were Cherenkov cherries, a delicacy found only in this part of the world. She had heard tales of these strange trees, but seeing them in person was a fascinating experience. The orchard was alive with birdsong and a distant choir of murmurs coming from the city beyond.

Passing through the orchard, they walked past the massive torsos bodies of one of the great guardian stone golems. The adventurers stopped in awe at the sight of the immense and imposing golems, their huge stone bodies standing sentinel around the perimeter of the city. Karnelia felt a chill run through her veins as she realized the ancient power that the Porcelain Princes still possessed.

The adventurers followed Jaun Luque 3-Team past the defense golems towards the edge of the settlement. A four-legged Walker was waiting for them on the outskirts. Standing on the Walker's balcony were seven robed figures wearing white ceramic masks that were shaped like stylized human faces. The masks were painted with intricate patterns, and colorful gemstones were inset on the cheeks and foreheads. They stood in a line; solemn and still, with their hands raised to greet Jaun Luque 3-Team. There was a regal air to their presence, as if they had been expecting their arrival. The seven figures raised their hands in greeting and introduced themselves.

"Welcome, Jaun," spoke the chorus, its voice a raspy whisper that seemed to echo across the wasteland. "It has been far too long since we last met."

Jaun Luque 3-Team nodded, the porcelain masks of the trinity that composed him glinting in the harsh sunlight. "Indeed it has, my dearest Sherd 7-Extension. To what do I owe the honor of an encounter with such an esteemed member of the Ageless Society?"

"I have come to seek your help, Jaun. You see, I have always dreamed of returning to a time before the monobodies were allowed into the Radiant Lands. I believe that if we could turn back the clock to the great and golden era of the early Citadel, we could restore the balance of power and prevent the apocalypse that has befallen us."

"How do you propose return to such a time, Sherd? Such a feat seems impossible."

Sherd chuckled, a dry, rasping sound that sent shivers down the spines of the onlookers on the ground beneath the Walkers. "Nothing is impossible, my dear 3-Team. The days of monobodies arrogantly strutting about our noble and hallowed lands are surely numbered.”

Sparing a disdainful glance at Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia, they continued.

“The monobodies are nothing but tools, Jaun. They were created for a specific purpose, and once that purpose is served, they are disposable. You would do well to remember that.”

With that, Sherd 7-Extension’s walker carried the polybody oligarch away from the group.

All that was left was the lingering feeling of dread in the air. Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia looked at each other in confusion.

"What have we gotten ourselves into, Jalosti?" asked Arcia. Porcelain Princes rarely ventured as far as Safranj, she had only heard rumors of the powerful steppe biomancers.

Jalosti smiled nervously. He had been fascinated by the Porcelain Princes for as long as he could remember, but hadn't anticipated their severe snobbery and prejudice. The encounter had left him shaken.

"The Porcelain Princes are not-quite-liches," he explained, nervously. "They seek immortality, just like those ancient wizards. But they have discovered an approach for distributing their consciousness between multiple bodies. The mind-to-mind links are maintained through a glandular mechanism. To guarantee the transfer of their psychological essence across the ages, they periodically add new bodies to their group. The bodies are often... acquired through commercial means."

Jalosti saw Arcia's mortified expression.

"The biomantic techniques involved in maintaining polybody consciousness are...erm... fascinating," he finished weakly, glancing at the ground to avoid her gaze.

"We need to be careful in this city," Karnelia interjected. "The Porcelain Princes have ruled this part of the steppe for a long time, and I'm sure they won't take kindly to intruders."

Noticing the conference among the three, Jaun Luque 3-Team called down to the adventurers. "Pay old Sherd no mind. They claim to be one of the original Princes, and they may well be. Along with the others in the Ageless Society, they dream of days gone by, failing to realise that monobodies can be quite useful in their own right and that we have little to fear."

With a curt, synchronised nod, their travel companion bid them adieu before his tripodal Walker glided away on slender ceramic legs.

"Don't worry, Karnelia," replied Jacosti, recovering his confidence somewhat. "We'll be fine as long as we mind our manners and don't cause any trouble."

Arcia snorted. "Easier said than done with these stuck-up elitists. They think they're better than everyone else just because they've managed to keep their bodies alive for centuries."

The three adventurers made their way through the Lower Line, where slaves and outlanders were permitted to dwell. As they walked through the township, the adventurers noticed the weathered faces of its inhabitants, their eyes sunken in and hollow. They noticed the broken buildings, dirty-boarded up windows and the oppressive silence that hung in the air like a funeral dirge. The adventurers felt a deep sense of rage bubbling up inside them at the sight of such obvious poverty and neglect. Surreptitious glances and hushed whispers that followed them. They were outsiders, and it was clear that they were not welcome here. But they were determined to explore the Lower Line and see for themselves the reality of life under the rule of the Porcelain Princes. They continued on their way, taking care to avoid the more dangerous-looking areas of the township.

"This place is depressing," Arcia muttered, shaking her head. "I don't know how these people stand it."

"It's not easy, that's for sure," Karnelia replied, her voice laced with sadness. "But they have no choice. They're trapped here, at the mercy of the Porcelain Princes."

As they walked, they encountered a group of slaves huddled together in a corner, their faces etched with fear and desperation. Karnelia approached them, her dark hair flowing like spilt wine behind her as she reached out a hand in comfort.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

One of the slaves opened their mouths to answer, but stopped in fear. The adventurers turned, and saw a pair of strange figures approaching them. It was a double-bodied Porcelain Prince, clad in rich robes of white and gold. His two sets of eyes seemed to glitter with an otherworldly light. The polybody wizard was flanked by a black-clad surgeon, carrying a leather satchel on his chest like a shield.

"I am Bone Kaolin 2-Body, and this is my assistant Mr. Creavain," the Porcelain Prince said, his voice smooth and oily. "We have come to collect a tribute from the slaves of this township. You will kindly step aside, so that we may do our business."

It was clear that the Porcelain Prince was not to be trifled with.

"We will pay the tribute," Arcia said, her voice firm as she stepped in front of the slaves. "We cannot allow these people to be robbed of their rightful property."

Bone Kaolin 2-Body laughed, and the sound sent a chill down the adventurers' spines.

"I see that you have pretensions of nobility, but I am afraid that this is a toll that cannot be paid in coin. I am a celebrant of the hallowed Ascendant Church of Flesh and I am here to assert the ancient right to a supplicant from the Lower Line, who will join me in union."

The adventurers glanced at each other in horror. Kaarnelia had heard of the Church of Flesh: it was an old death cult that was thought to be extinct by theological authorities in the Rainbowlands.  They were known for their gruesome rituals and their use of disposable bodies in their rituals.

Bone Kaolin 2-Body stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the trembling figures clustered in the corner. He pointed imperiously at one.

"You," he said. "You will come with us. It is your destiny."

Mr. Creavain stepped forward to grab the cowering wretch.

"No!" Karnelia shouted, her voice ringing through the alleyways. "We won't allow it! These people have suffered enough under your rule, we won't stand idly by while you take one of them!"

"Ah, a valiant attempt," Bone Kaolin 2-Body replied, a mocking sneer on his face. "But I'm afraid that I must insist. Now, if you would be so kind as to step aside."

Arcia drew her cutlass. "Even if it means risking our lives, we will not stand by and watch as these people are taken against their will."

Bone Kaolin 2-Body stared at the adventurers in disbelief. They had expected to meet with resistance from the slaves, but not from these outsiders.

"Very well. These starvelings would make poor supplicants in any case. The Lower Line surely has many superior specimens. But remember, we Porcelain Princes are not to be trifled with. You would do well to watch your tongue and your actions while in our domain.  I warn you, if you cross me again there you will regret it. Indeed, you will regret it intensely and at length, begging for the blessed release of Ascension."

With that Bone Kaolin retreated into the throng of the Lower Line. Mr. Crevain performed a deep, ironic bow toward the adventurers before pivoting to accompanying his master.

The adventurers quickly turned and walked away, their hearts racing with fear and disgust.

Ultraviolet Odyssey Part 4

This is the fourth part of a solo, narrative campaign within the Ultraviolet Grasslands RPG setting, created by Luka Rejec. The text was generated by the Chat GPT large language model, with multiple generations and further responses spliced together and edited. Some of prompts to generate the text were taken from the UVG sourcebook and/or fan materials. UVG and the Vastlands setting are  the intellectual property of Luka Rejec. This campaign log is unaffiliated with either WTF Studio or Luka Rejec.

The adventurers Karnelia di’Orca, Jalosti i’Grati and Arcia Bodizie are travelling through the Azure Ruins on their way to the Violet City.

Karnelia di'Orca is a tall and slender figure, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. She wears a flowing red robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery, and carries a staff topped with a blood-red crystal. A single black vertebra is visible at the base of her neck, marking her as a member of the secretive wine vampire order.

Jalosti i'Grati is a short and stocky purple-skinned young wizard, with a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. He wears a flowing purple robe, and rides a machine horse that shimmers with shades of rust and metal. In his hand, he holds a staff of polished black wood, etched with arcane symbols.

Arcia Bodizie is a rugged and weather-beaten Safranjina, with a scar running down her cheek and a patch over one eye. She is dressed in a patchwork of scavenged clothing, with a long, flowing coat of dark blue and a bandana tied around her head. She carries a curved sword at her side, a sign of her status as an exiled pirate. A small furry mutant vole sits perched on her shoulder, giggling at anyone who pets it.

Soundtrack: 'Eye of Doom Pt. 1', The Sapient.

Chapter 9

As they travelled, the heroes were forced to endure endless hours of terrible poetry recited by the artists, who seemed to delight in the suffering of their companions. Despite the torment, the adventurers remained resolute, drinking nutriguel from straws to sustain themselves and watching the Lime Nomads herders through the windows of the landcruiser.

As the adventurers traveled with the group of dilettante artists in their luxury landcruiser along the Low Road, they were subjected to endless hours of terrible poetry recited by the artists. Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia tried their best to tune out the talentless rhapsodies, but it was a nearly impossible task. In order to keep their sanity, they took turns passing around a flask of nutrigruel, sipping it through straws as they watched the Lime Nomads herders through the windows.

Despite the unpleasantness of their traveling companions, the journey was not without its own unique beauty. The landcruiser smoothly glided along the winding road and past rolling hills. As they journeyed further, the landscape began to change, transforming into a more arid terrain. As the landcruiser approached Potsherd Crater, the heroes could see the ground was a mosaic of broken pottery shards, glinting in the sunlight. The crisp crunch of porcelain under the wheels of the landcruiser was a relief after days of dreadful verse.

At last the vehicle came to a stop and the trio of companions stepped out onto the pallid soil. Fresh rain must have fallen that morning. The smell of garlic and roses filled the air, a strange combination that reminded Karnelia of her childhood in the Redland valleys. She breathed in deeply, letting the scents fill her lungs and calm her mind. Above them, the skies gleamed like razors, the sun casting its warm light on the land below.

The distant rim of the crater rose up from the ground like a pale wall, stretching out as far as the eye could see in both directions. From their vantage point, they could see that the rim was jagged and uneven, with sharp peaks and deep valleys that formed a rugged landscape. Between themselves and the edge of the crater they could see spring blooms, the rainbow colouration of the flowers standing out against the chalky-dust ground. Distant waterholes speckled the landscape, adding to its beauty and charm.

Turning, the companions looked to where the would-be artist’s collective was headed. The arid landscape was dotted with luxurious mansions, each one more grandiose than the last. The heroes could hear the distant sounds of revelry, as the fashionable elite gathered for the party of the season. They soon found themselves at the gates of the most magnificent mansion of all – the glass palace of Satrasco, the mercantile magnate of the Yellow Lily Consortium. The gates were guarded by stern-faced sentries with fashionably vintage weapons, who scrutinized the heroes before allowing them entry.

As the three adventurers approached the glass mansion of Satrasco, they were struck by its opulence and grandeur. The walls were made of gleaming crystal, with intricate geometric patterns etched into the surface. The roof was topped with a series of delicate spires that glinted in the setting sun.

As they entered the mansion’s grounds, they were awestruck by the sheer splendor of the party. The grounds were filled with ornate fountains and exotic gardens, while the air was filled with the sweet scent of exotic flowers.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Dilettantes and aristos mingled amongst the towering pillars and marble floors, sipping on rare and exotic cocktails. Arcia was particularly impressed. She was a former pirate, and she had never been one to mingle with the wealthy and fashionable. The air was filled with the sound of laughter and conversation, and bon mots that probably weren’t as clever as had been intended.

Satrasco herself was a vision of elegance and grace, the orb of her living metal eye scanning the crowd with a cold and calculating gaze. Her delicately machined fingers moved gracefully as she gestured to her guests, a smile playing across her lips.

"Welcome, my friends, to my humble glass mansion. I am honored to have you all as my guests tonight”, Satrasco declared.

"Thank you for inviting us, Satrasco. Your parties are always the most fashionable and exclusive events in the empty territory" responded one of the Porcelain Princes in attendance, the voices of their six bodies speaking in unison.

"Thank you, my dear Prince. I am glad you enjoy them. The Yellow Lily Consortium has always been a beacon of refinement and sophistication, and I strive to maintain that reputation in everything I do."

She was the center of attention, with admirers and sycophants vying for her attention. She held court in the grand ballroom, her every word and gesture commanding the respect and admiration of those around her.

As the night wore on, the adventurers enjoyed the party, but they couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. They had heard rumors that Satrasco was involved in some shady business deals, and they couldn't help but wonder if they were in danger. Despite the splendor of the party, there was a sense of danger lurking just beneath the surface. The guests whispered of Satrasco's reputation for cunning and ruthlessness, and the fortified walls of her oldtech estate seemed to speak of secrets and dark deeds.

Their fears were well founded. The sound of an explosion tore through the party. Glass walls shattered. Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia found themselves caught in the midst of chaos as the partygoers panicked and fled in all directions. The shattered body of Satrasco lay on the ground, her metal eye still glowing with a faint light, but her metallic fingers were now still.

"What happened here?" Arcia demanded, drawing her sword and looking around warily.

"It looks like someone assassinated Satrasco," Jalosti said, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the culprit.

"But who would do such a thing?" Karnelia asked, her eyes wide with shock.

Just then, a group of heavily armed Consortium guards rushed into the room, their weapons at the ready. "Everyone, freeze!" one of them shouted. "We are conducting a search for the person responsible for this crime. No one is allowed to leave until we have questioned each and every one of you."

The adventurers knew that they had to act quickly if they were going to avoid being implicated in the assassination. They quickly made their way to the outskirts of the crowd, trying to blend in with the other panicked partygoers.

"We have to get out of here," Arcia whispered to her companions. "If we stay, we'll be stuck here for hours, if not days, while the Yellow Lilly guards question everyone."

"But where can we go?" Karnelia asked, looking around nervously.

"We'll have to escape out of the back entrance of the mansion," Jalosti said, a determined look in his eyes.

The adventurers quickly made their way through the crowd, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. They slipped into the night as, behind them, the hiss of lasers and the pulse of blaster bolts erupted.

Chapter 10

As the trio of adventurers made their way through the Potsherd Crater, they couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. The screams and cries of alarum from the disastrous party at Satrasco’s mansion faded to inaudability. The area was eerily quiet, with only the sound of their footsteps breaking the silence. It was as if the very air around them had been drained of life, leaving only the crumbling remains of what must have once been a bustling hub of activity. Only hours before they had been guests at the most sophisticated soirée of the season, now they were lost in a strange and unfamiliar land.

The Far Moon shone brightly above them, illuminating paths of pulverized porcelain that snaked through abandoned quarries. Karnelia shuddered as she thought of the dark powers or terrible weapons that must have been unleashed to create such a desolate place.

Jalosti was deep in thought, using the knowledge gleaned from a term of astrology lectures to navigate from the stars above. Arcia marched ahead with determination. She was not one to be deterred by the dangers that lurked in the Potsherd Crater, and she was determined to find a safe place for them to rest for the night.

Finally, after what felt like hours of wandering, they came across a small, dilapidated prospectors’ cabin. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, but it was better than nothing.

The three adventurers entered the cabin cautiously, their weapons at the ready. Inside, they found nothing but dust and cobwebs. It was clear that no one had been here in a long time.

Exhausted and grateful to have found a place to rest, they settled down on the hard, cold floor and tried to get some sleep. It was not the most comfortable night they had ever had, but at least they were safe.

As the hazy purple light of dawn began to break over the Potsherd Crater, the three adventurers, stirred from their uneasy sleep in the abandoned cabin. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on their minds.

With parched throats and grumbling stomachs, the trio set out into the dusty pale scrubland of the vast crater, searching for water. They crossed arroyos and traversed rocky outcrops, the scorching sun beating down on them as they searched for signs of sustenance.

At last, they stumbled upon a small waterhole, the cool, clear liquid providing much-needed relief from their thirst. They filled their canteens and drank deeply, the water restoring some of their energy.

But as the adventurers made their way back to the cabin, they were startled to see a figure standing outside, cloaked in robes of odd refinement. As they drew closer, the figure turned to face them, revealing a stern countenance.

"We are travellers," Karnelia declared, her hand instinctively reaching for her stave. "What is your business here?"

The figure hesitated before answering in a gruff voice. "I am Glim. And you are trespassing on my land."

"Your land?" Jalosti i'Grati scoffed. "This is the Potsherd Crater, not your personal property."

The figure, hesitated for a moment before answering in a low, gravelly voice. "I have been living in this cabin for the past few months. I am but a humble wanderer, seeking shelter and respite from the dangers of the crater. I have not seen another soul in all that time, until now."

Jalosti, the undergraduate wizard, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You don't look like any wanderer I've ever seen. Those robes are similar to those of an inquisitor for the Cogflower Church."

“Be assured, I am no threat to you. I... fled from my previous life.”

"And what was your previous life?" Arcia Bodizie asked, her pirate instincts kicking in.

The stranger hesitated again, before finally revealing, "My name is Glim. I was an executioner. Or a hunter of men. It depends on who you ask. But I assure you, I am no longer that person. "

The adventurers exchanged wary glances, unsure of how to react to this revelation.

"Are you a fugitive?" Karnelia asked, her grip on her stave tightening.

Glim shook his head. "I am not wanted by the law. But I have done things in the past that I am not proud of,” he admitted, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I have committed... atrocities that cannot be undone. I have come to this desolate place to atone for my sins, in solitude."

The adventurers were silent for a moment, before Arcia spoke up. "We don't judge you for your past, Glim. But we must be cautious. Can we trust you?"

Glim nodded solemnly. "You can trust me. I have no desire to harm you or cause trouble. I only seek peace and solitude in this place."

Arcia stepped forward, her expression softening. "We will give you the benefit of the doubt, Glim," she said. "But know that if you betray us, we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."

Glim nodded, gratitude in his eyes. "I understand," he said. "And I thank you for your kindness. I will do my best to be a valuable ally on this journey."

Despite their initial mistrust of Glim, the group decided to trust him, at least for the time being. They continued their journey through the crater, navigating its treacherous terrain. They trudged through the arid wasteland, their eyes fixed on the horizon. They were constantly on the lookout for Satrasco's assassins, who could be searching for witnesses from the party, and agents of the Yellow Lily Consortium, who might be searching for her killers.

They stumbled upon a petrified forest, where ancient trees had been turned to stone by some unknown force. From between the fossilized boughs, a group of glowing spirits emerged. These ghosts had willowy limbs and sparking black hole eyes, and seemed to dance and float around them, their bodies flickering in the white-purple mid-morning sunlight. The adventurers could hear the ghosts' soft whispers, though they could not understand the words. The ghosts seemed to point and gesture to a ruined structure on a nearby hill.

Karnelia: “Who are these ghosts? And why are they pointing the way to those ruins?”

Glim: “Those are radiation ghosts, Karnelia. They haunt the Potsherd Crater, and they have been here for centuries.”

Jalosti: “Why do they haunt this place?”

Glim: “It is said that they are the spirits of those who died in the Last Brutalist War that once ravaged this land. They are trapped here, unable to move on to the next life.”

Jalosti was sure he had read that the crater had been created by a Ka-detonation after an unsuccessful evocation of a Greater Demiurge. But he held his tongue and said nothing.

Arcia: “That's terrible. Is there any way to help them?”

Glim: “I'm afraid not. They are bound to this place, and there is nothing we can do to free them. They are benign, leading travellers to relics of their lost world. But don’t get too close, their emanations will make your skin prickle and your hair fall out.”

The adventurers were filled with a sense of curiosity as they followed the ghosts, unsure of what they would find. They trudged through the arid wasteland, the ghosts gliding ethereally ahead of them.

As the radiation ghosts led the group through the boxy ruins, they came across a buried chest, covered in layers of rubble and debris. The adventurers carefully dug the chest out of the ground, and they were amazed by what they found inside. The chest contained a sky tree cloud-sucker net, a rare and powerful tool made of delicate silver mesh, used by ancient sky pirates to capture and control the weather.

Arcia was delighted and flung the net into the air. It returned drenched in dew; after only a few minutes it would be possible to pull enough water out of the air to fill a canteen. As they moved on, the radiation ghosts faded away, leaving the adventurers to explore the crater with Glim. The pale scrubland stretched out before them, dotted with the occasional tuft of withered grass and the bleached bones of long-dead animals. The scorching sun beat down upon them, their clothes sticking to their sweat-soaked bodies.

As they trudged along, they spotted a strange sight in the distance - a massive tripodal vehicle, towering above the landscape, its legs moving in a slow and steady rhythm. A trinity of Porcelain Princes riding atop a Great porcelain walker, escorted by a group of porters as if it was on some kind of royal procession. The servants were a miserable sight, their clothes threadbare and tattered from long days of labor, their faces gaunt and drawn with exhaustion. The Princes, with their delicate porcelain masks and haughty demeanor, looked down upon the adventurers with disdain.

Cautiously, the adventurers approached the walker, wary of the Porcelain Princes’ scornful gazes. The Princes questioned the adventurers, their haughty tones grating on the heroes’ nerves.

"What business do you have in the Crater?" one of the Princes asked, his voice dripping with contempt.

Karnelia, familiar with the arts of diplomacy from her priestly training, stepped forward and spoke with conviction. "We are adventurers, seeking to explore the mysteries of this land and uncover its secrets."

The Princes scoffed at her words. "Adventures? In this desolate wasteland? You must be mad."

Karnelia: "Your Highnesses, we must apologize for disturbing your journey. We have become lost in this barren wasteland and seek passage back to civilization."

Arcia bristled at the obsequiousness of Karnelia’s words, but said nothing.

Karnelia: "Please, Your Highnesses. We are in dire need of assistance. We have no provisions and are at the mercy of the elements. Is there any way you can help us?"

The Prince, mollified by Karnelia’s deference, replied: "I see. Well, I suppose we could offer you passage back to civilization. But it will not be easy. The journey is treacherous and fraught with danger."

Jalosti: "We understand, Your Highness. We are willing to take any risks necessary to return home."

Prince: "Very well. We shall allow you to travel with us back to the Porcelain Citadel. But you must promise to abide by our rules and show us the proper respect."

Karnelia made an uncertain half-bow, half-curtsey. Arcia frowned. It seemed that despite her reservations the three adventurers and Glim would be travelling to the Porcelain Citadel.

Ultraviolet Odyssey Part 3

 This is the third part of a solo, narrative campaign within the Ultraviolet Grasslands RPG setting, created by Luka Rejec. The text was generated by the Chat GPT large language model, with multiple generations and further responses spliced together and edited. Some of prompts to generate the text were taken from the UVG sourcebook and/or fan materials. UVG and the Vastlands setting are  the intellectual property of Luka Rejec. This campaign log is unaffiliated with either WTF Studio or Luka Rejec.

The adventurers  Karnelia di’Orca, Jalosti i’Grati and Arcia Bodizie  are travelling through the Azure Ruins on their way to the Violet City.

Karnelia di'Orca is a tall and slender figure, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. She wears a flowing red robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery, and carries a staff topped with a blood-red crystal. A single black vertebra is  visible at the base of her neck, marking her as a member of the secretive wine vampire order.

Jalosti i'Grati is a short and stocky purple-skinned young wizard, with a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. He wears a flowing purple robe, and rides a machine horse that shimmers with shades of rust and metal. In his hand, he holds a staff of polished black wood, etched with arcane symbols.

Arcia Bodizie is a rugged and weather-beaten Safranjina, with a scar running down her cheek and a patch over one eye. She is dressed in a patchwork of scavenged clothing, with a long, flowing coat of dark blue and a bandana tied around her head. She carries a curved sword at her side, a sign of her status as an exiled pirate. A small furry mutant vole sits perched on her shoulder, giggling at anyone who pets it.

Soundtrack: 'Death Grip', Black Lung.

Chapter 7

The next morning, as the heroes stumbled along the streets of Violet City, they were greeted by the sights and sounds of a bustling city coming to life. The purple light of dawn illuminated the vibrant buildings and colorful inhabitants, and the heroes were struck by the vibrancy and energy of the place.

 As they walked, they passed by Doghead urchins, who scurried along the streets, scavenging for scraps and treasures to sell. As they walked, they passed by Doghead urchins, who scurried along the streets, barking and whimpering as they scavenged for scraps and treasures to sell. At the same time, the heroes were careful to avoid these small, scrappy creatures, knowing that they could be dangerous if provoked. The urchins were a motley group, with dirty, ragged clothing and sharp, predatory eyes.

Karnelia: "Those hound-headed rascals are a nuisance. I hope we don't run into any more of them on our journey."

Jalosti: "I've heard that the Dogheads are actually quite intelligent, but treated with contempt in a city of cats. I'd be interested in studying them more closely, if we have the opportunity."

Eventually, the heroes came across a caravan making its way West, toward the Low Road and the High, a great crossroads of superconcrete highways that lay in ruins. The Purplelander caravan master, João Levanta, was a rugged and weathered individual, with piercing purple eyes and a thick beard. He had been travelling the Ultraviolet Grasslands for many years, and he knew every inch of the treacherous landscape. He was a gruff and no-nonsense man, but he had an instant respect for the heroes, and he welcomed them into his caravan with open arms.

Arcia: "Good morning, caravan master. We seek an uneventful journey West."

João Levanta: "I'll do my best to make sure it is, lass. But the Grasslands are never without their dangers, so be on your guard."

Arcia: "Oh, I'm always on my guard, master. It's the pirate way."

João Levanta: "I can see that, lass. You've got a fierce look in your eye, and a sharp tongue to match. Just remember to use it wisely, lest you find yourself in hot water."

Arcia: "I'll keep that in mind, master. But I'm not afraid of a little heat. I've faced worse than that in my time."

The heroes decided to join the caravan, eager to continue their epic journey into the unknown lands of the Ultraviolet Grasslands.

Jalosti was grateful for the sturdy and reliable metal horse that carried him through the treacherous terrain, and he rode with skill and confidence, navigating the rocky paths with ease. As the purple wizard rode alongside the caravan on his metal horse, he marveled at the vast expanse of the Ultraviolet Grasslands. The rolling hills and deep ravines stretched out before him, broken only by the occasional clump of twisted trees. The air was thin and dry, and the sun beat down relentlessly, casting long shadows across the grass. He could feel the excitement and adventure of the journey coursing through his veins.

As they travelled, the landscape changed around them. The grass grew taller and thicker, forming dense tangles that slowed their progress. They saw strange creatures lurking in the shadows, their eyes glowing with a sinister light.

At night, the heroes huddled around the campfire, listening to the eerie howls of the wind as it whipped through the grass. They told stories of their past adventures and shared tales of the strange and wonderful things they had seen on their journey.

The heroes rode in a battered old caravan, its creaking wheels grinding against the hard-packed dirt of the Low Road. They could see the crumbling remains of the High Road above them, its pylons of dead coral jutting out of the ground like the bones of some ancient beast.

As they approached the High, the ruins of the great crossroads came into view. The remains of towering buildings and crumbling highways stretched out before them, a reminder of the once-great civilization that had fallen to the ravages of time.

As Karnelia caught sight of the High Road, she felt a shiver run down her spine. Karnelia had heard tales of the great road, but seeing it in person was truly breathtaking. "By the gods," she breathed, her eyes wide with awe. "The stories were true. The ancient highways of the Long-Long-Ago still stand." She gazed up at the crumbling pylons of coral, her mind racing with the possibilities of what they might find among the ruins.

The heroes made their way through the ruins, carefully navigating the treacherous terrain. They could feel the weight of history pressing down on them, and they knew that they were on the brink of something truly incredible.

As they rode along the Low Road, they came across a strange sight: a small herd of hares with slender legs and frightened eyes. These hares were unlike any they had seen before, for their bodies were covered in strange, chitinous protuberances that seemed to swivel and twist at the slightest movement.

The caravan company of João Levanta was a bustling and diverse group of travellers, each with their own unique skills and talents. There were merchants and traders, craftsmen and artisans, and even a few brave warriors who had joined the caravan for protection against the dangers of the Ultraviolet Grasslands.

As they made camp for the night in a ruin camp, the adventurers set up their tents and started a fire to cook their evening meal – roast hare. The night was cold and quiet, with only the sounds of the wind and the distant howling of mutant beasts to break the silence. Karnelia, the wine vampire priest, sat off to the side, staring into the flames as she pondered the mysteries of the lost world that she had been dreaming of. Arcia, the exiled pirate, was sharpening her sword, her small furry mutant vole at her side, giggling happily as she petted it.

Jalosti: "This roast hare is delicious, but there's something off about the taste. Do you think it could be contaminated?"

Arcia: "It's possible. We need to be careful what we eat out here in the Grasslands. The radiation can do strange things to the local wildlife."

The heroes struck up a conversation with Obritish Krat, a diesel-chugging mechanist.

"Greetings, adventurers. I am Obritish Krat, a golem-whisper from the east."

Karnelia: "It's nice to meet you, Krat. We are Karnelia di'Orca, Jalosti i'Grati, and Arcia Bodizie. We are on our own journey of exploration and adventure in the grasslands."

"So, what exactly is a golem-whisperer?" Karnelia asked, sipping from her flask of vampire wine.

"Ah, a golem-whisper is someone who can communicate with the ancient constructs that still roam the grasslands," Obritish Krat replied, his burned beard rustling in the wind. "You see, during the Long-Long-Ago, the ancients created powerful machines to serve them, but when their civilization fell, many of these constructs were left behind to roam the wasteland."

"And you can talk to them?" Jalosti asked, his purple eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Well, not exactly talk," Krat explained. "It's more like a sort of telepathic connection. I can sense their thoughts and emotions, and they can sense mine. It's a strange and wonderful gift, but also a dangerous one. The golems are powerful and unpredictable, and if they decide to turn on you, there's not much you can do to stop them."

"But you've mastered this ability?" Arcia asked, her furry vole perched on her shoulder.

"I've been at it for a long time," Krat replied, his eyes haunted by memories. "I've encountered many golems in my travels, and I've learned to understand them and even control them to some extent. It's not an easy path, but it's one that I'm drawn to."

Jalosti i'Grati: "What brings you to the grasslands in any case, Krat? We've heard stories of the dangers that lurk in these lands."

Obritish Krat: "Ah, the dangers of the grasslands are real, my friends. But I have faced many dangers in my life, and I am not afraid. I am here to seek my fortune and to learn more about the ancient machines and technologies that still survive in these lands. I've seen some strange things out here in the grasslands, let me tell you."

Jalosti: "Like what? We've encountered our fair share of strange creatures before."

Krat: "Ah, but you haven't seen anything like the wire-ghouls that lurk in the salt mines of the Golden Desert. They're twisted creatures, made of metal and magic. They'll tear you to pieces if you're not careful."

The next morning, as Jalosti was putting on his boot, he was bitten by a scorpion-spider. The venom coursed through his veins, causing him to feel dizzy and weak.  Luckily, Karnelia was there to help, and with her knowledge of strange sorcery, she was able to save Jalosti from certain death. Karnelia, quick to act, used her holy vampire powers to suck out the venom, saving Jalosti's life. She licked the venom from her lips, her black metal vertebra glinting in the early morning light.

Chapter 8

With João Levanta spending the day concluding a business deal with a group of hill-tribe survivalists, the three voyagers decided to explore the environs. As the adventurers set out from the ruin camp, they were immediately struck by the strange and desolate beauty of the Low Road. The ground beneath their feet was hard-packed, scarred by the constant passage of caravans and travellers. The air dry and dusty, carrying with it the tang of rust and the faint hint of something sweet and sickly. The sky overhead a dull, lifeless grey, with only the occasional glimpse of a distant sun to break the monotony.

In the distance, they could see the Rusted Hand of Victory, a towering metal sculpture that rises from the ground like a beacon. As the adventurers approached the Hand, they were confronted by a troupe of monkey mechs. These strange creatures waved razor-sharp metal claws, and they moved with a strange, unsettling grace.

"What are those things?" Arcia cried out, her hand instinctively reaching for her sword.

"I don't know, but they look dangerous," Jalosti replied, his purple wizard's robes fluttering in the dry, dusty wind.

"We need to be careful," Karnelia warned, her black metal vertebra glinting in the dull light. "They could be thieves, looking to pilfer our valuables."

Without warning, the monkey mechs attacked, their glinting claws flashing through the air. The adventurers were caught off guard, but they quickly regained their footing and fought back with all their might.

"Stay back, you mechanical monstrosities!" Arcia yelled, swinging her sword with deadly accuracy.

"I'll show you the power of a purple wizard! Well, a trainee wizard at least" Jalosti cried out, unleashing a bolt of magical energy that sent one of the mechs flying.

"By the crimson veins of the Redlands, I command you to retreat!" Karnelia shouted, her voice carrying across the battlefield.

The battle raged on, with the adventurers fighting for their lives against the relentless monkey mechs. But in the end, they emerged victorious, their weapons stained with the blood of their mechanical foes.

Still panting from the battle, the adventurers regarded the Hand of Victory, a towering metal sculpture rising from the hard-packed ground like a beacon. It was covered in graffiti, and its once-smooth surface was now rough and jagged with age and exposure. Despite its age and the ravages of time, the Rusted Hand was still an imposing and impressive sight. It loomed over the adventurers, casting a long shadow across the desolate landscape.

As they regarded the Hand, the trio were approached by a group of a group of aristo maidens who are eager to have their portraits taken at the Rusted Hand. The adventurers oblige, and soon the maidens are posing for pictures, laughing and smiling in spite of the desolate surroundings.

“The Hand rises like a monument to the victories of the Long Ago over the soft, slow, and lazy enemy: the sea” declared one of the highborn young women, with a tone of approval in her voice.

Karnelia nodded in agreement, to her it seemed that the Rusted Hand was a symbol of the power and resilience of the human spirit. Despite being battered and beaten by the ravages of time, it was still standing tall and proud, a testament to the indomitable will of those who came before.

Arcia, however, frowned. The Rusted Hand seemed like a reminder of the fragility of life. She was struck by the way the metal has rusted and decayed, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy as she looks upon it. Despite its grandeur, it was ultimately just a discarded relic of a bygone age. And anyways, the sea was hundreds of miles to the East.

Her thought was interrupted by another aristo girl taking issue with the pronouncements of her companion. “All but two of the hand's fingers are broken off. The thumb has been removed. It is said that this is the mark of someone who was caught cheating at cards but could not be punished because no one knew where he lived. A futile gesture of revenge”.

The debate continued inconclusively, until the young women’s robot butler began serving orchid tea and mountain cress sandwiches, at which point they lost interest.

“We still have enough time to see the famous Sealed Gate before and make it back to camp before nightfall if we hurry”, declared Jalosti eagerly. His two companions agreed, the Sealed Gate was famous, and if they were really going to bring back the Null Object of Contemplation from the Black City, they would need to acquaint themselves with the mysterious and ineffable.

As the three adventurers approached the Sealed Gate, they were struck by the eerie beauty of the four-walled, onion-domed structure fronted by a drycoral arch. The surface of the structure were covered in intricate carvings, partially obscured by graffiti, depicting scenes of battles and triumphs from a bygone age. The gate itself was surrounded by a field of petrified bones, jutting out from the light, fluffy stone of the area.

Karnelia, the wine vampire priest, examined the bones with interest. "These must be the remains of some ancient beasts," she murmured, her dark hair blowing in the weary afternoon breeze. "I wonder what they were like in life."

Jalosti, the undergraduate purple wizard, nodded in agreement. "I've heard rumors of fabulous biotechnology hidden within these ruins," he said, patting the flank of his machine horse. "But… perhaps it would be unwise to get too close."

Cautiously, the adventurers moved closer to the gate, their feet crunching on the bones beneath them. They could feel a strange energy emanating from the structure, a mix of sorcery and science that was both enticing and foreboding. Karnelia had heard stories of this place, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her. She felt a strange connection to the ancient carvings, as if they held a hidden meaning just beyond her grasp. As the trio approached the arch, they saw a group gathered at the entrance dressed in colorful garb, examining the intricate carvings that adorned the gate. They seemed to be in the midst of some sort of performance, and they beckoned the adventurers to join them.

To the adventurer’s chagrin, the group were little more than dilettantes. They seemed to be in the midst of some sort of performance, and they beckoned the adventurers to join them. They carried a variety of instruments, from drums and flutes to more exotic devices that the adventurers couldn't identify, yet played none of them well. Members of the group spontaneously broke into poetry, offering free-verse paean to the mystery of the Gate. Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia were aghast.

More agreeably, one of the dilettantes had brought along a dozen jars of wine, which he began passing round. Karnelia sniffed the jar she was offered. It wasn’t the sacred vampire wine her homeland, but it was ripe and rich nonetheless. Inevitably, a joint of purple haze was passed around as bodhrán drums battled one another. Despite animated digressions from many of the pretentious artists assembled, it was clear that no one present had any read idea of the purpose or origin of the gate. The adventurers settled for an evening pursuing less highbrow interests.

When they woke, they found that they had fallen asleep in the luxury landcruiser and were already on their way towards the Potsherd Crater, leaving João Levanta and his caravan far behind.

Ultraviolet Odyssey Part 2

This is the second part of a solo, narrative campaign within the Ultraviolet Grasslands RPG setting, created by Luka Rejec. The text was generated by the Chat GPT large language model, with multiple generations and further responses spliced together and edited. Some of prompts to generate the text were taken from the UVG sourcebook and/or fan materials. UVG and the Vastlands setting are  the intellectual property of Luka Rejec. This campaign log is unaffiliated with either WTF Studio or Luka Rejec.

The adventurers Karnelia di’Orca, Jalosti i’Grati and Arcia Bodizie are travelling through the Azure Ruins on their way to the Violet City.

Karnelia di'Orca is a tall and slender figure, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. She wears a flowing red robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery, and carries a staff topped with a blood-red crystal. A single black vertebra is  visible at the base of her neck, marking her as a member of the secretive wine vampire order.

Jalosti i'Grati is a short and stocky purple-skinned young wizard, with a wild mane of hair and a bushy beard. He wears a flowing purple robe, and rides a machine horse that shimmers with shades of rust and metal. In his hand, he holds a staff of polished black wood, etched with arcane symbols.

Arcia Bodizie is a rugged and weather-beaten figure, with a scar running down her cheek and a patch over one eye. She is dressed in a patchwork of scavenged clothing, with a long, flowing coat of dark blue and a bandana tied around her head. She carries a curved sword at her side, a sign of her status as an exiled pirate. A small furry mutant vole sits perched on her shoulder, giggling at anyone who pets it.

Soundtrack: 'Blackbird's Fall', Black Moth.

Chapter 3

As the adventurers approached the Violet City, they discussed what they knew about the metropolis.

"I've heard that the cat lords rule the city with an iron paw," Karnelia said, her dark eyes scanning the skyline.

"Yes, but they are said to be incredibly powerful psionic beings," Jalosti added. "They can control the minds of their human thralls with ease."

Arcia nodded, her long black hair blowing in the breeze. "I've also heard that the city is a hub for trade and luxury. But there is also poverty and crime lurking in the shadows."

"We'll have to be careful," Karnelia warned. "The cat lords are not to be trifled with."

As they entered the city, they were struck by the mix of opulence and decay. The streets were filled with bustling stalls and merchants hawking their wares, but

The streets of the Violet City were a chaotic and vibrant maze, pulsing with life and energy. The stall-strewn streets were filled with merchants hawking their wares, from exotic fruits and spices to strange gadgets and magical trinkets. The air was thick with the smells of cooking food and perfumed oils, mixed with the underlying stench of sewage and decay. As the adventurers passed through the plazas of the city, they watched the thralls of the cat lords stride through the crowds, their faces blank and empty as they went about their duties. The cat lords themselves lounge on the laps of their thralls or strutted through the streets, their lithe bodies and sharp claws a reminder of their power and control over the city.

Jalosti's machine horse whinnied and stamps its feet, unused to the noise and chaos of the city. Arcia's mutant vole, tucked safely in her pocket, giggles with excitement.

Duresa's eyes are wide as she takes in the sights and sounds of the Violet City. She has never been to a place like this before, and she is both intimidated and exhilarated. She knows that Destro is here somewhere, and she is determined to find him.

Despite the dangers and distractions of the Violet City, the adventurers are determined to help Duresa reach her love, Destro. They brave dark alleys and dangerous neighborhoods, always on the lookout for danger.

But when they finally meet Destro, Duresa's hopes are shattered. He is not the man she remembers, but a cold, calculating merchant with a wife and children. He reveals that he never loved her, and he has no interest in her.

"I never loved you, Duresa," he says, his voice cold and unfeeling. "You were just a slave, a plaything for my entertainment. I have a wife and children now, and I have no interest in you or your companions."

Duresa is horrified by his words, and she feels a deep sense of betrayal.

"I can't believe this is happening," she says to Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia, her voice shaking with emotion. "I thought he loved me, I thought he was waiting for me. But he was just using me all along."

The adventurers try to comfort her, but they know there is nothing they can do to change what has happened. They offer her their support and friendship, and they vow to help her. Disheartened, the group retires to one of the many taverns and drinking houses of the Purple City.

 Chapter 4

As they made their way through the crowded streets, Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia were careful to keep Duresa close. The fugitive slave had been spurned by her lover, and she was visibly upset. The three adventurers offered her comfort, reassuring her that things would get better.

Eventually, they arrived at a tavern called The Purple Oasis. The innkeeper greeted them warmly and showed them to a table. The tavern was filled with the usual assortment of travelers and locals, all looking for a place to rest and relax.

Duresa sat down at the table and tried to compose herself. She had been through a lot. The innkeeper, noticing the kindness of the adventurers, offered Duresa a job as a serving maid. She gratefully accepted, and soon she was bustling around the tavern, bringing food and drink to the patrons.

But not all the patrons were friendly. A cat lord with a snake's head for a tail watched the adventurers with a cold, calculating gaze. They knew they had to be careful, lest they incur the wrath of the cat lords.

Sidling up to the group, a warlock smelling of damp warned them of the dangers of the Purple City. “This is a place of broken dreams and thoughtless greed, you should be careful of the perils that await you here”.

Despite the danger, the adventurers were determined to enjoy their night in the Violet City. They ordered yellow beer, and soon they were laughing and reminiscing about their adventures together. They told stories of their first meeting in the city of Safranj, and of their battles against strange creatures and powerful sorcerers.

Karnelia: "I remember when we first met in Safranj. I was on a mission from the wine vampires, and you two were just starting out as adventurers."

Jalosti: "Yeah, I remember. I was still an undergraduate wizard, trying to prove myself. And Arcia, you were just a pirate looking for a new crew."

Arcia: "That's right. I was still a pirate then, sailing the Lenticular Sea. I had been exiled from my patrimony, and I was looking for a new adventure. And then I met you two, and we became inseparable."

Karnelia: "It's been a wild ride since then. We've fought monsters, battled sorcerers, and braved the dangers of the Azure Ruins. And now, here we are, in the Violet City."

Jalosti: "I can't wait to see what wonders and dangers await us there. But first, let's finish our yellow beer and toast to our friendship."

Arcia: "Here, here! To our friendship, and to our epic journey!"

Karnelia: "To adventure!"

They were interrupted by a ne'er-do-well offering them cheap blacklight lotus powder. The group of adventurers looked at the ruffian with skepticism and disdain. They had heard stories of the powerful and dangerous drug, and they knew that it was not something to be trifled with.

Nonetheless Jalosti was feeling adventurous and curious, and when a group of students offered him a purple haze joint, he eagerly accepted. The students grinned wickedly as they lit the joint and passed it to Jalosti.

As he inhaled the smoke, Jalosti felt a rush of dizziness and disorientation. The world around him seemed to spin and swirl, and he felt as if he was floating above the tavern.

He could hear the students laughing and talking, but their words were garbled and distorted. He felt a sense of euphoria and detachment, as if he was outside of his body, watching the scene unfold from afar.

The joint continued to make its way around the group, and Jalosti continued to smoke it, feeling increasingly dizzy and detached. He knew that he was taking a risk by smoking the strange drug, but the thrill of the unknown was too great to resist.

As the effects of the purple haze joint wore off, he knew that he had been foolish to accept the offer, and he resolved to be more careful in the future. But the experience had also been exhilarating, and he could not help but feel a sense of excitement at the thought of what other strange and wondrous experiences awaited him in the Violet City.

The night passed in a blur of laughter and drunkenness, and the adventurers eventually retired to their rooms, their heads spinning with the effects of the yellow beer.

The next morning, they woke up with terrible hangovers, their heads pounding and their stomachs churning, to the sound of heavy knocking on their bedroom door.

Chapter 5

They groggily stumbled to their feet, and opened the door to find a thrall of the cat lords standing on the threshold.

The thrall, a Purplelander human with a vacant expression, held out a summons from the cat lords. The adventurers were being summoned to the citadel, where a three-eyed cat lord lounged on a silk pillow.

The adventurers made their way to the citadel, the heart of the city and the home of the cat lords.  The Citadel loomed over the Violet City, its towering spires reaching towards the sky. The massive stone structure was covered in intricate carvings and symbols, depicting the power and authority of the cat lords. They were greeted by a horned black cat who nodded at them, allowing them to enter.

Inside the Citadel, the adventurers were awestruck by the opulence and grandeur. They were amazed by the wealth and power on display. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The floors were made of polished marble, and the air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes. But they also sensed a dark undercurrent of sorcery and strange science.

"We need to be careful here," Arcia whispered to her companions. "The cat lords may be powerful, but they are not to be trusted."

They were led to a chamber where a three-eyed cat lord lounged on a silk pillow, surrounded by a cadre of Purplelander human thralls. The cat lord was a majestic creature, its fur shimmering with a deep, magenta hue. Its eyes seemed to see into the very souls of those who looked upon it, and it spoke with a voice that was both sweet and terrifying.

The cat lord looked at the adventurers with its three piercing eyes, studying them for a moment before speaking. "I am Archon Kynosophia the Magnificent. You have been chosen to embark on a most important mission," the cat lord said in a silky voice. "Once every paradecadal conjunction, the Grand Observer, a powerful psionic being who dwells in the Black City, offers supplicants a Null Object of Contemplation. We need you to journey to the Black City and retrieve this object for us."

Kynosophia explained that a Null Object of Contemplation is a powerful and dangerous magical artifact that has the ability to manipulate reality itself. It is said to be able to erase objects from existence, create illusions, and even alter the fabric of time and space. It is highly sought after by those who seek to wield its power, but it is also feared for its potential to cause great destruction and chaos.

The adventurers listened attentively, their eyes wide with excitement and fear. They knew that this mission would be dangerous, but they also knew that it would be an incredible opportunity to prove their worth and gain fame and fortune.

"We accept the mission," Karnelia di'Orca said, speaking for the group. "We will journey to the Black City and retrieve the Null Object of Contemplation for you."

The cat lord nodded, its tail flicking with approval. "Excellent. You will be well rewarded for your efforts," the cat lord said. "May the fates be with you on your journey."

With that, the adventurers left the citadel, filled with determination and excitement for the epic journey ahead.

 Chapter 6

The three adventurers stepped out into the vibrant and chaotic streets of the Violet City. The air was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and the bustling of merchants and street performers. The city was a melting pot of cultures, with various races and creatures mingling and trading in the bustling bazaar. The air was thick with the scents of incense, spices and perfumes, mixed with the smell of sweat and filth from the poor quarters.

Karnelia: "I can't believe we accepted this mission from Kynosophia. The Black City is a place of great danger and strange magic."

Jalosti: "Yes, but think of the rewards. The Null Object of Contemplation is said to grant unimaginable power to its wielder. We could become legends."

Arcia: "But what if we fail? The Grand Observer is not to be trifled with. He is a being of immense power and cunning."

Karnelia: "We will just have to be careful and use our skills and wits to our advantage. And in the meantime, let's not dwell on it. We have earned a night of celebration in the Violet City."

The adventurers made their way to Shéh Shah, the premier water-pipe café of the city. The café was filled with sweet, fragrent smoke and the sound of bubbling water, as patrons indulged in strange brews and concoctions. The walls were adorned with intricate mosaics depicting the adventures of the great cat lords, and the patrons lounged on plush cushions sipping on their water pipes and chatting amiably. Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia took their seats and ordered a round of honeyed tea and the finest tobacco blends.

As they smoked and sipped, they chatted with the other patrons, learning of their adventures and schemes. They were approached by a group of body snatchers, who offered them a lucrative job stealing a valuable relic from one of the Violet City's temples. The heroes declined, making their excuses as they left the establishment.

Feeling the need for some more rowdy entertainment, the heroes left Shéh Shah and headed for Al Flogon, a notorious dive known for its strong drinks and debauched revelry. The atmosphere inside was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, and the patrons were engaged in all manner of brawling, gambling and general mischief. The most popular drink at the bar was the Purple Sin, a mix of potent spirits and hallucinogenic herbs. The drink was said to grant the imbiber temporary powers of telepathy and telekinesis, but also came with the risk of mind-altering hallucinations and addiction. The bar was known as a hangout for apostates and blasphemers against the Holy and Multiple Polypantheon. Nevertheless Karnelia, the wine vampire priest, was in her element, sipping on rare wines and chatting with the other patrons.

Karnelia, Jalosti and Arcia quickly found themselves in the thick of it, joining in a drinking game with a group of burly abnegators and indulging in some friendly arm-wrestling with a group of Redland dwarves. Jalosti, the undergraduate wizard, stumbled drunkenly around the bar, muttering spells under his breath and he unsuccessfully tried to score more purple haze. As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, the heroes found themselves becoming increasingly drunk and rowdy.

At one point, Arcia's mutant vole escaped from her pocket and began scampering around the tavern, causing chaos as it ran over tables and knocked over the drinks of unsuspecting patrons. The heroes were eventually thrown out of the tavern, stumbling into the streets of the Violet City in a drunken stupor.

The night ended with the adventurers stumbling back to their lodgings, their heads spinning from the wild carousing and the strange magic of the Violet City. But tomorrow, they would set out on their epic journey to the Black City, in search of the Null Object of Contemplation for the cat lord Kynosophia. The adventure had only just begun.