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Flamepunk[edit]

The sky above Sardukar was the colour of charcoal, roasted by the flickering flames below.

Skaz shouldered his way through the hulking mulebloods standing watch over the door of the Cascade. Cool air and mist flowed around him as he stepped in; the Cascade wasn't a tavern for blazers. You could drink there for a week and not see a single spark.

Today, however, was not a typical day. At a far corner table sat Ella herself, surrounded by cheap hired blazers. One of them gestured towards Skaz, his flamebonded knuckles glittering with sparks. Skaz found his way to the table, pushing past a group of Kiora warriors, with muscled chests covered in ritual scarring. "I see you got yourself all ashfaced, Skaz." Ella said, as Skaz settled across from her. "Business not so good?"

Skaz shrugged. Behind him, the Kiora started singing a drunken chant. "I keep myself busy enough." he said, "So what brings you to a icepit like this?"

A broad smile spread across the face of the Queen of Cinders. "You."


-William Gibson's Pyromancer



I love cyberpunk. I love the gritty feeling of chrome on my fingertips, of street punks fighting the corporate machine. Who doesn't? Sometimes, however, it can feel a little old. Eighties nostalgia only takes you so far. Leather and mirrorshades go out with last season's wardrobe. So... I'd like to dress the punk up in some new clothes.

They'd better be fireproof.


The Pitch[edit]

Magic in Flamepunk consists of essentially one thing: the summoning, binding, and control of elementals from the Realm of Flames. This magic, however, has forged the basis for an entire civilization, built on the power of unearthly flames. Never doubt the adeptness of the human mind when it comes to adapting to new ideas. Industry and transportation, engineering and medicine; the art of elemental binding has been used to revolutionize every science and field of endeavour.

A society has grown where the binder is king, and fire is his tool. Applications range from molten forges that warp and shape metal by themselves, to precise scapels of fire that cut and slice with pinpoint accuracy, from engines that drive on wheels of fire, to the boiling fleshpits where the flesh of men is melted and reforged into the hulking mulebloods...

The Price[edit]

There's no such thing as a free lunch. With every elemental called into the world, a little of the sun's warmth is lost. The ice fields begin to creep south, destroying the livelihoods and homelands of farmers and villagers. As the cityfolk bask in the flames of a new era, the broader land grows cursed by an ever-deepening winter...


The Powers[edit]

Follow the Money, and you'll find the Man.

Follow the money and it will lead you to the mighty Guilds; binders and cindersmiths, merchants and fleshshapers. These conglomerates, rich and decadent, hold sway over the cities of brass. Guildmasters command private armies and flamecraft beyond imagining, and squabble amongst themselves in subtle wars for power, wealth, and status...

The Church of the Holy Flame is perhaps little more than a tool of the Guilds for controlling the populace, but it is nonetheless a powerful tool. Great cathedrals rise in its name. Its priests are often skilled binders, and they command the loyalty of the faithful. And woe betide he who offers prayers to the Old Gods, for the Inquisiton of the Cleansing Flame gives no mercy to idolators and demon-worshippers...

The Hadar families are criminals whose power rivals that of the Guilds. With fingers in every pie and at every level of society, they are dealers in sin and blood without equal. The Hadar tattoo themselves with images of black flames; it is whispered that they have made pacts with dark elemental lords, who grant them the power to douse flames and shatter lights...

The Punks[edit]

In the slums and poorhouses of the growing cities, forces have begun to arise that challenge the system; youths who chafe at the bit and gangs who fight to tear down the structures of society. The disenfranchised want to hit back; and they have the tools to do it. Gang members with nothing to lose have elementals bound into their very bodies; sparkflash eyes, flamebound knuckles, and tongues of flame.

Other, bolder souls take up the deadly art of flamerunning, projecting themselves into the Realm of Flames itself, where flame can be manipulated from afar and the souls of the dead can be found. Within the Realm, the laws of the physical world are less important than willpower and emotion... a sword is forged from the feeling of hate you have when you hit someone, a candle from desire to be protected against the dark.

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Original concept imagined by TheLoneAmigo of rpg.net.


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