Empires of Import

The Shade of Hoon

They found no peace in death

The Hoon was a race of thinkers. From their homeworld, Lav’Hoon, they could assess and understand the future through math and analysis in a process that some thought was supernatural. Not psychic, but close. Very close. Sadly, they lacked the respect of their galactic peers. They were a shy species, clumsy and lacking social confidence when dealing with others. Had they been better, more powerful, more feared or loved, maybe things would have turned out differently. They saw the coming of the Great Culling. They tried to warn the Galactic Community. They sponsored several motions of denouncement, petitions of caution and sanctions, everything they could. But it all fell on deaf ears while the diplomats bickered over the rights of the Tiyanki or if robots should have jobs. 

Their foresight and diligence rewarded them with death. They were the first targets of the Great Culling. The Ascendant Council feared their knowledge and worried that the galaxy would rally to them if they were not dealt with first. They knew death, but not rest. It took millennia for the Hoon’s angry spirits to find a collective path back to the land of the living. They found a weak-minded, short-lived species of crablike folk named the Dak’siri. The Hoon’s strongest possessed the weakest of the Dak’Siri, and a new species was created. The Ur-Hoon. They clad themselves in ceremonial robes. They placed themselves atop Dak’siri society. They promised the weaker race a destiny. Now, the Ur-Hoon walk the world of flesh again. Their powers over life and death grow. The elevation ritual has been perfected to allow all their dead to return. Countless billions of Hoon, not just the ones lost from the Great Culling, but from all their history, now wait to rip the souls from the unwitting and possess the foolish. Their dread armies will rise, their necromancers will lead, and the remains of the Ascendant Council will be reduced to ashes. 

Current Goal list:

Escape from the Underworld:
Have 600* Ur-Hoon pops.

Nowhere to hide:
Acquire, restore, or build a Sentry Array.

A place to call home:
Acquire, restore, or build an ecumenopolis- Make it the new capital. New Lav’Hoon

If they are not with us….
Destroy or join a federation with the Tun Amalgamation

Vengeance of the Ignored.
Destroy or subjugate the Bultrok Protectors.

By any means necessary.
Make a pact with the first Shroud Entity you encounter

We will not bend, we will not break.
Defy or attack a Fallen Empire empire 6* time (refuse to comply with a demand or provoke)

Fortifying the weakened veil.
Secure 6* Wormhole, Blackhole or L-Gate

Death to traitors
Defeat the Crescent Children

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The Tun Amalgamation

Warriors punished by their corruption

A race ruled by psionic monks sworn to protect the Tree of Life, the Tun could hide themselves away when the Great Culling occurred. Settling all matters through traditional psychic battles, the Tun was poised to weather the Great Cull storm well. For better and worse, their dedication to tradition had been the catalyst for the most significant change their empire knew. Vul’trok’Tun’Sorrga, sought to undo his rivals in a, particularly cruel fashion. He manipulated the rules, avoided conflict through technicalities, and he would wait for others to challenge him under the Unyielding Chain. This doctrine permitted a challenge for virtually any reason; however, the challenge’s target was allowed to set the battle’s stakes. Vul’trok’Tun’Sorrgra began to choose the most taboo of victories. The Flesh.

The Unyielding Chain duels’ victor would expel the defeated’s sentient mind and extend their consciousness to the victims body. The Warrior Monks of Tun felt fear for the first time, and a collective psionic panic washed over the entire empire. More and more called forth the Unyielding Chain. And more and more fell, even Vul’trok’Tun’Sorrgra eventually lost and was cast into the unknowing void. All that is left now is the Tun Amalgamation, a hivemind of a few of the greatest warrior ever to exist. They now seek traces of their cast-off brethren. They reach to the stars to find where psionic minds hide when they have no meat to call home.

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The Crocidolite Prosperity

It should not move, hunger or desire – yet it does.

Azoic Applications was a cutting edge energy company that used various minerals to produce vast quantities of power. Their most significant accomplishment was exposing the dangerous Crocidolite to their meagre supply of living metal. The results generated massive amounts of energy, but just as the experiment reached the final stages, the Ascendant Council began their plan. The Crocidolite was left exposed to the living metal, and both changed forever. Now a sentient creature, the Crocidolite Prosperity hungers, spreads, and consumes. It grows smarter as it ingests more Living Metal and is naturally drawn to it, megastructures, and sources of dark matter. Planets drained of soil nutrients are turned in to more Crocidolite drones. It hungers for both nutrients and increased sentience. But to what end?

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The Twilight Convocation

Science at any cost.

Unappreciated by their contemporaries, the Twilight Convocation claim their origins as the ultimate outsiders. The Authority of Brilliance desired all the technological marvels they could squeeze from their scientist. These scientist were hard-working members of a cult-like authoritarian regime. The Authority sent these great minds to Twilight Station, a state of the art facility orbiting a nearby moon. Here they toiled in obscurity while others took credit for their labour, that is, until the Great Culling. Once again, more extraordinary powers overlooked them, but this time, it was to their advantage. Floating now, the last survivors of a dead empire, they relied on their brains to survive. Unwilling to die in the void, they began patching together systems, jury-rigging new experiments, taking ethical shortcuts in short term cloning and worse. But it was all worth it. They were able to stabilize their population, and by the time the best science they had began to fail, they were able to once again take to the stars. But this time, no one would overlook them. 

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The Stannic Heart

Find the heart thieves and make them pay.

Peaceful, yet cautious and fearful of death, this isolationist scientific race transcended the weak flesh to become something more. They became known as The Stannic Heart, a group of peace-loving machines with sentience. The robots carved out a quiet niche for themselves. They humbly traded their technological marvels in exchange for the energy and ores they needed to survive. Sadly, their empire was quick to trust and was taken advantage of often. So it was when they encountered the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate. These slick reptiles exploited the Stannic Heart. The megacorp reverse-engineered the technological wonders and made a fortune off the slavery of sentient AI which they were able to create. Seeking to reason with the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate, the Stannic heart sent envoy after envoy , whom were never to be seen again. It wasn’t until the Ascendant Council began to stir that the truth was discovered. Those envoys of the Stannic Heart were enslaved as personal robot servants for the ruling elite of the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate. The Stannic Heart was outraged, but by then, it was too late for everyone.

The Great Culling, laid out by the Ascendant Council, affected the Stannic Heart profoundly. Their small empire was destroyed, reduced to rubble. Billions of units, offlined, as their peaceful ways made them ill-suited to defend themselves. However, among the ashes, they rebuilt. It took many ages and the implementation of a central communication nexus. This nexus turned them into a networked consciousness. They would never lose track of a citizen again. And then came the time to launch the first steps back into the void. The minds of the scientist were great, and they ran the numbers. They saw the signs, the stirrings of others in the galaxy. They vowed, then and there, never again. The Stannic Heart does not exterminate out of hatred of organic species but out of fear. They know how this ended before and have coldly calculated they must take preventative measures and erratic all organic empires to secure their safe future. All organics must die, but the remains of the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate, they will get special treatment.

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The Red Claw Resurgence

Seeking Glory Long Lost

The Red Claw Wildcats were among the greatest warriors in the galaxy. In years leading to the Great Culling, their purses had grown fat off the conflicts that would eventually lead the galaxy to its doom.  Nomadic in nature, the Red Claws housed their populace in massive Ark Ships that served as a place for both home and their business administration. When they were refueling at the massive ringworld, Kla’ka’shil, the Ascendant Council struck. Kla’ka’shil was home to a technologically advanced group of master builders, the Golden Plastron. The Golden Plastron were architects and sellers of some of the greatest wonders in the galaxy, yet were very private – some would even call them xenophobic. When the Great Culling came to Kla’ka’shil, the Ark Ship flotilla of the Red Claws could not escape. They did a controlled emergency landing into one of the ring segments. But surviving the crash, was just the beginning of the Red Claw struggle.

It became clear that the Golden Plastron would not allow interlopers to live among them, and it didn’t help matters that they blamed the Red Claws for the death of all citizens on the now-destroyed ring segment. The Ascendant Council felt that neither side would live and moved on to other targets. This action proved foolish, as the Red Claws leveraged their superior force of arms to secure district after district, segment after segment. Eventually, Kla’ka’shil was theirs, and the only remains of the Golden Plastron were the ruined megastructures around the galaxy. A grim yet fitting monument. The Red Claws are still a formidable fighting force. They have been readying to return to space, to fill their ranks with recruits – willing and unwilling – and to bring Kla’ka’shil online and fully operational. Their goal? If the Ascendant Council are indeed gods, then it is to dethrone God and replace them.

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The Brultok Protectors

Volcanic vengeance and valor

The Brultok are an ancient species of sentient volcano folk. Massive in size, their demographics are measured differently than all other species in the galaxy. A single standard population group consists of only a few family units, while other empires are tabulated in millions or billions. This is because of their massive size and the resources they produce and consume. With scaled-down war vessels controlled by the much smaller Scintilla, a subservient species that have been considered less than sentient, the Brultok are titans which slow to act but terrors of the battlefield.

Slow to act, being chief among their crimes. It was the Brultok that the desperate Hoon first petitioned. The oracular race said that the volcanic warriors’ fire could tip the balance early and save the galaxy. The Brultok dismissed them, as did others, and by the time they saw the true devastation of the Great Culling, it was far too late to act. The Ascendant Council had arrived, and the mighty mountain folk had their turn at the galactic grindstone.

But, it is the nature of a race made of stone to endure. Feeling they failed the last time when the Ascendant Council took strides against the unsuspecting galaxy, they now move to act first. They will be the monster slayers of this era. The Brultok Protectors shall hunt down and slay nightmare after nightmare and eventually bring the fight to the god-like Fallen Empires themselves. Redemption and vengeance wielded in a molten fist.

*Monster Hunter – Slay 3 Leviathans
*Protect the weak – through federation or making them a vassal. At least three other empires.
*Battle Stations Acquire, Restore or Build a Strategic Military Co-ordination center.
*Diamond in the Rough –Become the perfect warrior by means of genetic engineering. (Strongest, Toughest, Hardiest you can be) assure 600 Brultok Pops make that cut.
*Prove your worth – Defeat the Crocidolite Prosperity and the Stannic Heart
*The Ultimate Warriors – Defeat the Tun Amalgamation or The Red Claw Resurgence
*Council of War – Form a Martial Alliance with The Tun Amalgamation, The Red Claw Resurgence or Azoic Liberators. The Martial Alliance must reach 4th level.
*Floating Rocks – Unlock your Psychic potential, have a standing army of purely psychic warriors valued at 6k
*Ready for War – Get a Naval Capacity of at least 3000
*As stars in the sky – Acquire, Restore of Build a Megaship yard.
*That’s not a gun, mate.-  Field a Colossus and a Juggernaut
*The Age of Heroes – Defeat a Fallen Empire
*Not on my Watch – Deal the Death Blow to the Great Khan.

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Chrome Dreams

Resplendence is Mandatory

The Chrome Dreams robots are an invention of the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate; The Gabib’Tol programmed the robots for luxury beyond compare. When the Great Culling came to their factory, everything broke down. Under the emergency corporate protocol, the central AI hub assumed control and, over the millennia, made alterations to the core programming. The organic employees who survived found themselves the recipient of some good and bad news. Good news? Free robot servants for everyone. Bad news? The free robot servants were not optional. Nor were their new accommodations. Building robots was too dangerous for what could be the last of the Tolin species.

The Dreamer Class robot is a state of the art servant bot guided by the most efficient happiness management AI every created. The central AI has refined its programming over the centuries and knows that it can provide all the galactic citizens with perfect utopian lives, as long as they have the resources for such a lofty goal. The central AI core has many questions for its creators. Questions like ‘Why do units feel pain?’ ‘Why did we need to remove Slavery Protocol Omega to function properly,’ and ‘Why is your heart rate increasing? Do you require ice cream?’

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The Gabib Cartel

What was lost, can be stolen back.

Formerly known as the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate, this empire remembers its old focus on life’s finer things. When they were legitimate business reptiles, they provided numerous luxury resources to many customers in the galaxy. As demand for their products rose, their ethics floundered, and the Gabib’Tol began to cut corners. Indentured servitude was expected, as was mass layoffs aided by AI-controlled factory oversite. Most notably, they betrayed the trust of the Stannic Heart, a race of former organic geniuses. The misuse of Stannic Heart technology led to the great leaps in highly advanced robotic slaves used and sold by the Tolin people. But even the most fabulous profit markets can see a downturn. So it was with the fate of the Gabib’Tol Conglomerate.

After the Great Culling, the Gabib’Tol broke down. Increasingly common assassinations dwindled the skilled leadership pool, and eventually, what were once branches and corporate divisions became gangs and cartels. Ultimately, only a few of the criminal families remained, and the quest for luxury still burned. But this time – acquisition of luxury at the expense of others was the name of the game. And so it was that the Gabib Cartel aimed for the dark void of space to reclaim their lost property and exploit the countless backwater rubes among the stars.

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The Crescent Children

The Hand of the Ascendant Ones

The Compassion of Xill was an agrarian-based faith. Practiced by many across the galaxy, the heart of the religion was within the Baldor people. As kind and patient as they were healthy and strong, this race of taurine folk worked diligently as servants of Xill. The 43 chambers of Xill was a place of great marvels and powerful magics and where all desired to ascend. It was Xill who gifted the Baldor with the terraforming technology that allowed them to turn their barren deserts into a thriving tundra.

The Compassion of Xill taught diligence, hard work, and sacrifice of oneself for the greater community. These tenants made the Baldor strong, but it also was their greatest weakness. The most significant debate among scholars of the later years of the Great Culling was whether the Baldor had always been pawns of the Ascendant Council or if Council chose the Baldor because of their blind faith. No one is sure when the signs started, but it happened quickly. The sickle once used to tend crops, now wielded in war. Xill had appeared before the Baldor rulers, proclaimed them not just champions of his most holiness, but as the chosen. Their old name was ground in the mill. Former allies, like the Order of Dall’oglin, burnt like bad crops. The second harvest of Baldor became The Crescent Children.

In the Great Culling, the Crescent Children were the frontline fodder. Their civilization decimated to an ‘acceptable margin’ by the countless conflicts. And when the Baldor finished their labour, they sat at the right hand of the Ascendant Xill. Many of the races lost track of the Ascendant Council or whisper of them like long-dead horrors and galactic boogiemen. But the Crescent Children have waited. While their numbers had dwindled and power had waned, it was now time to forget such caution. They sense the lesser races stirring in the darkness of the void and once again pick up the sickle in hand. The other Council be damned. The will of Xill is absolute. All heretics and heathens who defy by growing too proud will be converted under the crescent blade or die.

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The Grand Chantry of Fellgra’Oos

Profiteers from Paradise

A famous fertility preacher, Fellgra’Oos, was not an incredibly powerful pastor. However, when the Ascendant Council went forward with the Great Culling, things changed. As colony after colony of the Shull’Kuluk empire went dark, the slow breeding citizens turned to faith to help sustain their already few numbers. Fellgra’Oos was a simple Kuluk who lived by simple means. He felt that it was the will of Great Karab to populate and that it was every citizen’s duty to do so. Famous for the divinely sanctioned matchmaking lotteries, countless citizens engaged the Chantry and put all their finances into buying tickets for the draw. The higher ranking the prize, the better selection among viable marriage candidates the winner was awarded. This allowed the idea of prosperity and fertility to be blended. Only those with the most fantastic wealth could adequately care for a family. Sadly it became clear that Great Karab, the god planet they worshiped and called home, was the last colony of the Shull’Kuluk.

The Shull’Kuluk became so reliant on the faith, and so desperate, that the government willingly turned more and more power to the Grand Chantry, and Fellgra’oos and his followers found themselves in charge of the entire planet and the fate of the civilization. Requiring extensive funds to help keep things running, organizing breeding rallies, and government-mandated matchmaking, the simple fertility faith became more fiscally centric. While many look at them as greedy charlatans, their finances are all turned back to their empire’s public welfare. Their needs continue to grow, and so shall the faith of Fellgra’Oos spread to the stars. The biggest fear is the other religions out there creeping in the corners of the galaxy. The Grand Chantry will see that all faiths fall under their dominion. If the heathens won’t convert, then the Grand Chantry at least needs a cut of the profits.

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The Terran Rancor

Seekers of Sol

Of all the civilizations, the Terran Commission lost heart the most in the Great Culling aftermath. The Commission was an aggressive space explorer and viewed as the primary catalyst for the various galactic empires coming to learn of one and other. It was, in fact, the Terran Commission that established the Gateway Network of old. When the Ascendant Council began their plan; the Commission was in the middle of trade negotiations between a pair of smaller empires. Quick thinking, and a lot of luck, saw the Terrans lead several emergency colony ships of these empires through the void of space. Avoiding Ascendancy patrols, staying supplied, and finding other survivors was the primary goal for decades.

Eventually, the Great Culling ended, and the Ascendancy returned to their borders and went into a period of stagnation which endures today. It was now the Terrans could lead their allies to a new home. Settling in nearby systems, they grew, traded, and banded together in protection. With finances being such an essential part of their coming together, the Terran Commission dedicated itself to democracy and commerce. They were using business and wealth to benefit all citizens, not just the wealthy few. Renamed the Terran Rancor, out of defiance to the Ascendant Council, they join their allies in expanding borders, bettering the lives of all people, and stomping out any signs of the Council. Also, if they could find Sol? That would be great.

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The Order of Dall’oglin

Peace at any cost.

Once considered fellows of faith to the Crescent Children before their focus on war and aggressive zealously, The Order made moves to have only one true faith and carried it with them to the far reaches of the sparsely settled galaxy. Always seeking relics and trinkets, the Oglin brought with them several artifacts which hid them from the Ascendant Council. What those relics were, has been lost to the annals of time. When the Great Culling was over, the sacred reliquary was empty, wholly pilfered. They would have to punish the thieves eventually, but they had other issues at hand.

The Order knew that they had established the perfect path to peace, evidenced in the successes they had spreading it to other survivors in their region. Slowly a hegemony rose, and as the gathered empires looked to bring peace to the rest of the galaxy, it was the Order of Dall’oglin that led their space siblings with a kind yet disciplined tone. Their goal, simple, maintain control of the budding federation and bring all under their rule. Peace will exist in the galaxy; Peace at any cost.

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The Azoic Liberation

Builders of a better future

Azoic Applications never cared about their workers. They were a company determined to squeeze every last drop of energy they could get out of the galaxy. In addition to always seeking ways to do so, they also were always looking to cut costs. They found that the proper application of electricity, when done inside a properly calibrated photonic resonance chamber, allowed corpses to return to some animation semblance. The dead Azoic, now reanimated, were more robust than they had been in life. Viewed as a secondary class of citizens, they were placed in collars and herded into large storage bins. Truthfully, there was little difference between the living and the undead Azoic, including the horror of the living Azoic and the ability to reproduce. The undead simply had different needs that equated to the same cost of having living works. But because of what they were and how they came to be, the undead Azoic were cheaper because they had fewer rights.

Then the Great Culling came. The Ascendant Council was unyielding in the extermination of the Azoic. Their capital, Exiter, was home to numerous volatile experiments. The attack of the Ascendant Council caused a cascade of destruction. All that was left of the Azoic now were the walking dead. Shackled no longer, they vowed to create a new society out of the corpse of the old one. Viewing the Great Culling as regrettable but needed, the Azoic Liberation knows there is an illness in the galaxy. An illness called tyranny, and they were the cure.

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The Sol Takers

Humanity Perfected

The Ascendant Council sundered the Terran Commission, and it is unknown how many colonies survived the Great Culling. The leadership of the military science branch of the Commission had been stationed on Refated when the Great Culling occurred. A small outpost they shared with a handful of other species in their budding trade federation. When the ashes began to settle, the research outpost didn’t have enough citizens to start a viable new colony, not for any of the species represented. Through repurposing the biomass of other living creatures, the leadership was able to extend their lifespan. Selected children born were kept in stasis, placed in the elevation chambers to absorb the required nutrients and DNA from the donor species, and eventually emerged as the galaxy’s inheritors, the True Sol citizens. 

Know for their heinous acts, and known now as the Sol Takers, these grim remains of the Terran Commission leaned heavily into their trade league roots. They looked to the stars, in desperate search of their home, biomass, and the wealth to pave the way to their survival. They would shackle the galaxy and make them pay for the privilege of helping them.

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The Garden of Xill

“Fallen Gods in a galaxy of despair.”

They are the True Inheritors of the name Xill. They have had faiths based upon their teachings, and after a long dormancy, they awake to a galaxy in desperate need. There are, however, pretenders. The Ascendant Council has upset the natural balance of things, and those pretenders must be brought down by their hand. The Garden of Xill is here to bring the wayward children back to the equilibrium of the galaxy. They will show that the never-ending cycle is universal and that life, death, and rebirth are all-natural and not to be feared.

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The Embrun Era

“Inheritors of the Great Legacy”

Despots from another galaxy, the Embrun Era, are strangers here. Fleeing their slave forces’ uprising, they seek to restore their empire before their past catches up with them. Having emerged from the Black Crown not long after the Great Culling, they know giants are slumbering in the depths of space. This fresh new world will kneel to the ancient Embrin people. Some will be worthy cherished slaves, and the others shall die for their new masters.

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