Nycos, World of the Dark Shards
Nycos is a ruddy sphere, spinning crazily around a big, striped shooter marble, itself orbiting an only slightly larger incandescent yellow star, twenty astronomical units away. The pair, Helios the brilliant, and Nimbus the cloudy, do the constant circular dance. Alone in the system as a primary planet, the striped protostar jealously coddles the tiny orbital like a nurturing parent, unwilling to part with it or share it with Helios. Dutifully pursuing its spiral path around the galactic core, Helios only stares gravely and coldly, and only claws gravitationally at the tiny world so closely guarded by Nimbus.
As a dweller on Nycos, the darkly brilliant Nimbus stares unblinkingly, a seemingly flat disk the size of a saucer, the lines upon its visage colorful and clouded, its striations of color spanning the visual spectra, darkly. Those who study the life-giving orb have defined Ten distinct colors, though to most, its light seems to be a pale mauve, despite its visage. This is due in part to the atmosphere, the layers of gas that keep in the necessary air for breathing, the clouds for heat dissipation, and the plethora of life forms that dwell here. When Helios does become visible, its light, though brilliant is dimmed in part because of the extreme distance, and in part because of the thin veil of the heliosphere that emanates from Nimbus like a warm blanket, is ambient glow blotting out all but the most direct of beams sent forth by the 'bale star', as most denizens of Nycos deem it. Nothing good has ever come from Helios, so the sayings go, and thus few offer sacrifice or service to it
Imagine. A mauve sky, shadows of purple and crimson. The Waters, photosynthetic in ways incomprehensible to we Terrans, are in shades and tones reminiscent of earthly wines, from the zinfandel and champagne shores to the merlot and burgundy deeps. Indeed, the shades of the ocean approximate blackness at the horizon, and, to those who ply the waves are indeed called Black Waters.
Plant life, oddly, tends toward the deeper shades of blues, with the autumns revealing a panoply of pinks, pales, and even, yes, green of decay as the seasons change. The spectral shift, for those who live here, is as fundamental as those in our world, and the diversity rivals, and in some cases outstrips that of even Galapagos or New Zealand. For here there be Dragons.
As a dweller on Nycos, the darkly brilliant Nimbus stares unblinkingly, a seemingly flat disk the size of a saucer, the lines upon its visage colorful and clouded, its striations of color spanning the visual spectra, darkly. Those who study the life-giving orb have defined Ten distinct colors, though to most, its light seems to be a pale mauve, despite its visage. This is due in part to the atmosphere, the layers of gas that keep in the necessary air for breathing, the clouds for heat dissipation, and the plethora of life forms that dwell here. When Helios does become visible, its light, though brilliant is dimmed in part because of the extreme distance, and in part because of the thin veil of the heliosphere that emanates from Nimbus like a warm blanket, is ambient glow blotting out all but the most direct of beams sent forth by the 'bale star', as most denizens of Nycos deem it. Nothing good has ever come from Helios, so the sayings go, and thus few offer sacrifice or service to it
Imagine. A mauve sky, shadows of purple and crimson. The Waters, photosynthetic in ways incomprehensible to we Terrans, are in shades and tones reminiscent of earthly wines, from the zinfandel and champagne shores to the merlot and burgundy deeps. Indeed, the shades of the ocean approximate blackness at the horizon, and, to those who ply the waves are indeed called Black Waters.
Plant life, oddly, tends toward the deeper shades of blues, with the autumns revealing a panoply of pinks, pales, and even, yes, green of decay as the seasons change. The spectral shift, for those who live here, is as fundamental as those in our world, and the diversity rivals, and in some cases outstrips that of even Galapagos or New Zealand. For here there be Dragons.
Welcome to Nycos
The tiny world experiences life much as any world would - the energies that brought forth life worked multitudes of miracles to avoid obliteration. But Nycos, this tiny world, has a significant advantage over many, for a unique form of radiation emanates from Nimbus. The magi, those who endeavor to understand, harness, and utilize it call its components, far too tiny to see, 'magicles' and they act as both catalyst and reactant, alternately responding to or aggressively acting upon the cellular and macrobiotic forms, enhancing and enlivening them in ways indescribable. Birds sing grains into being, sustaining themselves and planting fields at the same time; The herd animals sense the weather changes and in turn can, in extreme cases, change the weather. Hunters brave seasons pursuing rare prey one season, only to find the next flush with beasts and fowl. The balance between plenty and famine remains, but is more affected by the nature of the beings that live here than they are by its proclivities. The races of sentient beings are plenteous and varying, with each having traits and marks that define them. For more than ten thousand years, the civilizations have seen and experienced what is commonly held to be The Injunction, an agreement, and relationship between Terra and Nycos, that goes beyond words and defies complete articulation. People of Nycos, when called upon by Players of Terra, surrender gladly their being to the outsiders, in trade for the blessing of becoming Persona. One does not "create a character" but rather Enjoins the Persona, taking possession of their chosen Being, and becoming both Citizen and Champion of Nycos. The process, for the citizens of Nycos, is a ritual and a bonding beyond anything Terrans can comprehend, and though the Persona has being in both realms, the Persona lives daily in Nycos, and the Persona only engages when they can, within the Game Environment, and the Story of the Director. Speaking of Story, the anchor of the Iterations of Nycos, the singular rhyme that gave rise to each campaign, is the Grand Cycle.Though but a few stanzas, this piece captured the elements of the Iterations, and has stood the test of time as a structure, a checklist if you will, of the various elements that in entirety accounts for every possible kind of adventure, and guides the Cadre through a lifetime of experiences, encounters, and events. Enjoy! More will be revealed throughout the Persona process, but for now, you are for the first time, AWARE. Wake up and smell the Hallah!
Type
Planet
