I thought I'd been updating more frequently and then I realize that it's been a week since my last update.

I've come to the conclusion that I've definitely been working out of order on combat. I need to get some of the character stuff nailed down first, and while I'm at it I might do some of the gear and other elements in cleanroom stuff.

It's been slow progress, in part because I've had a lot of things I just haven't been able to execute on yet and I don't want to do too much stuff that breaks stuff. I probably need to just thrust in and do stuff.

I've also just had more stuff in my other writing that's been getting in the way, including other writing and feeling kind of miserable for the first couple days of the last week.

With that said, I think there are some good things on the horizon. I've been getting little bits and pieces that should become the eventual framework of what's to come, and the Reaction in particular have started feeling like a more concrete thing.

Resources

I've decided that I'm going to do two generic resources and one special resource based on the faction a character belongs to.

The generic resources are something like Health and Spirit, though I might reword the latter to make it clear that it's more like Grit or Determination.

The special resources are:

Exemplars: Discipline
Originals: Humanity
Spurned: Instinct
Reaction: Nanites

The purpose of each of these is to activate special abilities gained from talents, but they can also be spent as a form of narrative currency.

Basically, when a character wants to roll something and their special attribute could come into play, they can spend a point of these resources for an instant +4 to the threshold after rolling.

That's a rule still in its early phases of development, but I think it'll more or less carry over to the final game.

Intro Fiction

I've been working on the intro fiction more, and while it's still not finished I'm going to show off the first half or so here, in part because I want to go to bed and still show proof that I'm working on Exoworld. 😜

---

The recirculated air smells like ozone and hot metal. I hear everyone else getting into their seats and fastening down, but I’m already in mine. The pilot’s voice carries to the back of the shuttle. “Alright, first-timers. Strap in and pray that nothing springs a leak. Everyone else knows what to do.”

Then we’re weightless. I’ve been through the simulations a few times, so I know what to expect. I glance at Kol. He’s already got his helmet on. I can pass for human, he can’t. It won’t protect him if the spacecraft decides to pop. It’s just armor, like the chest-plate I’m wearing that keeps digging into me as it struggles against the straps holding me in my seat.

“You nervous?” The voice comes from the stranger on my left.

He’s a colonist, not one of us. Or maybe he's a Surveyor like myself, being sent down in disguise, but probably not. Doesn’t have the eye-glint, which means he’s got Originals’ eyes. It'd be cruel to do that to one of our own.

“No.” I let some of the lie slip through. I don’t have to. I could keep my face from tensing, not turn it away. But I make it obvious.

“It’s okay. Exile’s a harsh planet, but you’ll be fine.”

“I’ve never been down-well before.”

“It’s not so bad. It’ll seem dark as hell after you’ve been up on the Icarus, but you’ll adjust.”

I can’t think of another question. The thrusters kick on and off. Kol’s arm brushes against mine as he rattles in his armor.

The colonist reaches out his hand in an awkward gesture. “I’m Dmitri, head of logistics and operations at Gagarin Spaceport.”

I extend my hand. “Surveyor Vai.”

“I know that name. You’re one of the operators looking into the volatiles shortage.”

“I am.”

“Take a half-lune once you’re down in Gagarin to get acquainted with the planet. We’ve got plenty of stockpiles, it’s not urgent.”

Kol grunts. Dmitri doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care.

“That’s–” I struggle for words. It's damn near treason. We’re not heading to the planet to see the sights. Of course the colonist means well, but he doesn’t understand what it takes to keep society going. None of them do. It’s not treason to show hospitality. You have to know what you’re doing to be a traitor. But lenience is how society falls apart. “–generous, but we have our orders.”

“You Exemplars don’t know how to say yes, do you?”

Kol chimes in. “No.”

Neither of them say anything further. I lean my head back against the wall behind my seat. There’s a gentle tug pulling us downward. We’re going to enter the atmosphere soon.
I don’t open my eyes as the thrusters roar to life. They struggle against the pull of the planet. I feel heavy. It’s deceleration plus the gravity. Turbulence and wind shake the shuttle.
Then the landing. It’s over in a moment. The only sound is a low whir from the turbines and rain crashing down on the chassis.

The pilot’s voice carries to the back of the shuttle. “We’ve landed. Get your stuff and go, I’ve got an upbound flight in ten minutes.”

We don't have anything with us but the basics. Kol's got a barbgun, a nasty little piece of work. I've just got my armor, which is nothing compared to his. But nobody's going to shoot us if we stay on the path.

It starts in the spaceport. We don't even get to see the city lights up close, though I can see them refracting in the hazy sky above us.

An original walks over to us. His clothes are tattered, baggy. "You going to get sick, kid? This ain't the Icarus."

I can hear Kol smirking at him, even though the helmet's opaque. "We're not here to give charity."

"I know."

The man reaches for something. Kol doesn't give him the chance, the barbgun already in motion as the guy pulls back his coat and draws something out of it.

It's a grenade. He didn't have time to pull the pin, but I jump back anyway.

Kol walks over and rolls up the corpse's sleeve.

"Red Octoberist. Caught a glimpse of the tattoo."

There are six skulls underneath the red star tattooed on his forearm. Four of them have white eyes representing dead Exemplars.

Security's all over us before he can say anything more. They're all apologies and promises. I wonder what's going through Kol's head as he waves them off and we continue.

Guess I was wrong about the shooting.

"You going to be alright, Vai?"

"Let's get moving. I'm ready to leave this place."

The path from the spaceport to the garrison is painted. Makes it easier for us first-timers. It leads through a part of Gagarin that's supposed to be safe.

The smells are unlike anything else. They're strong, mixtures of too many different things.
Thousands of aromatics grown in household gardens. They make me hungry, for a reason I can't quite explain. Then there's the lights, patchworks of color and cool white.

I see a woman with our eyes looking out at us from an alley. But I can tell that she's not one of us because she's holding an infant in her arms.

If she weren't a traitor, I could be her.

---

This is the piece I workshopped, though the second half or so of this is new since then. I've been making relatively slow pace through the fiction because I've been bouncing all over the place and, strangely for me, I've had a hard time stitching together the loose images. Maybe I've gotten too used to writing longer things and doing a piece with such a short scope is harder for me now. I still have another thousand words or so to do on this.