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Lumped Together Mosh-Pit of Ideas I've had for too Long

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                                     Post 244

(Conceived circa 5/16/2017 at ??:??)

And so, my continuous effort to beef-up the beat-up Infested continues.

Designation: Troglocyte

Unit Class: Infested


- "It is absolutely necessary, for the peace and safety of mankind, that some of earth's dark and unplumbed depths best be left alone; lest sleeping abnormalities wake to resurgent life, and blasphemously surviving nightmares squirm and splash out of their black lairs to newer and wider conquests."

              -Howard Philips Lovecraft

Health Type


Boils around the cranium and chest have Alloy due to Technocyte colonial reinforcement.

Eidolon variant is completely made of Infested and Alloy, bound together as one.

Manufacturer: Not manufactured, origin undetermind.


Mutualist weaponry, most of which is integrated into their own bodies by veins and wiring, though this is not always so. 

Will occasionally rip-off and toss or burst own boils in order to unleash the nanocloud within and either deny an enemy cover or protect itself or others.

Boils can be shot off with undesirable results. 

Eidolon variant strictly controls the swarms within and upon it. Can colonize freshly dead troglocytes to make more eidolons.

Appearance and Behaviour:

 In comparison to the numberless terrors of the Phoroid swarm, Troglocytes are exceedingly disturbing. Flesh-covered and commonly "clothed" in tattered rags and chunks of metal shoved into their flesh, a certain unsettling cunning displays itself in the way these human-looking horrors carry themselves. Human patterned skin coats them entirely, occasionally with a patch of jumpsuit exposed here or heavy plate erupting from the tissue there, clear reminders of their origins. Meaty palms houseing raw and gnarled fingers clutch weapons blunt, ballistic, and bolt casting with the unsteady aim of a novice handed their first weapon and told to go to war. There is no real discipline in their hungry charges, as fire wildly in the direction of the enemy, their accuracy widely dependent on the weapon's innate ability. 

Bulbous tentacled heads house black beaded soulless eyes while whooping apelike howls emit from tentacled maws with a resounding undertone of gurgleing like pipeing in a sewer being unclogged.  Hunched, and yet still standing, these wretched creatures stumble, scuttle, and lope just as much as they gallop, climb, and roll as they move from place to place. Coating their puffy tumor-like hides are several boils that glow an iridescent silver, straining and rippling as their contents squirm in anticipation (or perhaps dread?) of being freed. Some have an even greater hunch then the rest, their backs bent under the weight of subdermal armor plate and their arms and legs reinforced with extra sinew and muscle to the point that properly wielding a weapon is nigh impossible. Instead, melee weaponry or raw scrap such as nails or rebar is plunged through the flesh of their front limbs and left to integrate and interlace to the point that "wielding" them is as easy as flexing a finger or thumb. Knocking these terrors down is nigh on impossible, as the creature will simply redistribute the momentum of a knockdown using their forelimbs into a catapult Lunge that sends them whistleing forward.

Between these two specific variants, a far more disturbing variant appears. Dubbed an Eidolon, they consist of a single perfectly preserved crewman or trooper dangleing limply at the heart of an endlessly roiling swarm of sparking silver Technocyte, completely coating it to the point that it is only visible as an outline at the center. With a limp, almost puppeted motion of it's arm, an explosive change occurs among the roiling mass of flesh. An aura of silver overtakes the Troglocytes as every breath they take is peppered with bits of silver. Suddenly, the game changes.

The Troglocytes suddenly gain the capacity to take cover, reload, even attempt bits of speech in garbled tongues. Rather then charge ferociously, the creatures will actually try to flank, charge, retreat, or even tear their Technocyte boils off to break them for extra armor or toss them away to form an area-denial cloud. With it's work seemingly done, the Eidolon will then proceed to drift at the back of the battlefield, sometimes releasing spreading clouds of expanding Technocyte and avoiding shots by "stuttering" past them. When a Troglocyte dies, the Eidolon will immediately be drawn to the body and will draw it up before seemingly stuttering through it. This seemingly scrubs away all of the Technocyte tissue, revealing the desiccated remains beneath before the corpse clatters to the floor.

 After a few seconds, a swarm will gradually leak out of the corpses' cranial region before proceeding to engulf the body in it's entirety and center it at the heart of the cloud, creating yet another eidolon. When slain, any nearby Troglocytes are immediately rag-dolled for a few moments, the piercing shrill of metal on metal echos throughout the area (horrifically, even in vacuum) as the swarm and body vibrates in place, and then the swarm erupts in a flash of grey light as the body limply clatters to the floor, never to rise again. The Troglocytes will recover from this and assume their former primeval attack patterns until another eidolon shows up and begins the madness anew. Interestingly, Troglocytes are hostile to any and all factions, makeing origin determination almost impossible.


"Basic" Description:

   Even at the very heart of swarm-controlled space, there are places not even it's myriad tendrils will touch. One specific place at the forefront of many's minds is the Tartisian Black Zone. A roughly hexagonal area of shattered debris and collided vessels said to date back to the evacuation when the stress of so many void engines firing at once finally split the horizon wide open, the area occasionally shifts in a non-decaying"orbit" around the largest rift (dubbed the "Eye of Balas"), despite there being no visible means of resistance. Explorers ,expeditionary vessels, and survey drones that skirt the edge of the Zone report spotty sensor coverage, garbled communications (both in giving and receiveing), incoherent transmissions, and a strange obscuring visual effect said to resemble sand or snow blowing in a storm. The closer to the center one travels, the worse the effect gets until a vessel seemingly stops existing. Oftimes, the very same vessel is observed within a week, sometimes in a state of disassembly, other times fully or partially Infested, and still other times completely pristine and broadcasting emergency signals (even if the vessel wasn't equipped with any)  or totally rent asunder as if by bombardment or massive hands.

Needless to say, the rumor mills has run rampant with the possabilities. Some claim it is a spiritual realm where the departed sleep in comfort, viciously tearing apart those who disturb them. Others claim an Orokin experiment in time caused an area of "convergent realities" where all manner of wonders and horrors are imparted upon those who visit. Still others believe that something in the Void broke free and has made its home in that place, abducting visitors and toying with them in ways that bend the laws of the universe. The maddest claim that it is an Orokin city made by the evacuationing personnel isolationist and strong, awaiting the day that the factions of Sol weaken themselves enough that the might rush forth and reclaim the Origin system anew. In reality, no one knows for sure, but several expeditions have been planned to chart straight to the heart of this blot on the map, most of which involve the hiring of Tenno. One wonders what they might find if they come to fruition, although there are those who state that some things are best left alone and buried. . .


There we are, my little dip into cosmic horror with a flavorful spoon fulla Warframe. I myself know the "truth" of what lies within, but, until someone asks, I think I'll leave it as is and let folks speculate, see how close folks come to the truth. Be seeing ya soon with a weapon wielded by these Horrors!

Edited by Unus
Completed circa 5/21/2017 at 11:33
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                                  Post 245

(Conceived in entirety circa 5/24/2017 at 17:23)

All roads lead back to Mars, eh? Not sure what drew me back, but, heh, I can't complain, just happy me old thinker box is still tick tick ticking away.

Designation: Kwos Master/ Kwos.

Unit Class: Grineer Light/Grineer Melee.


Health Type: 

Alloy and Cloned Flesh/ Ferrite and Flesh.


Vat 2212-T, a recently transferred cloning vat facility taken from Deimos and transplanted to Mars to solidify Grineer holdings with a "native born" population and the bastion of defensive might a vat facility is. Naturally, the facility has taken part in co-opting the local wildlife and integrating both grinic d.n.a. into it (for ease of mass-production) and, in this special case, cybernetics.

Kit and Equipment: 

Left-handed Halikar, Right-handed   Kohmak, one Arm-Mounted  Kwos-Com Transmitter. Accompanied by at least two Kwos/ Side-Saw Blades, Projected Razor Spines, Reinforced Back Plate, Ventral Fan Component.

Kwos Master and Kwos by HugintheCrowDA

   (Assembled in painstaking detail by HugintheCrow.)
   Wearing a full rubberized desert camouflage bodysuit that recycles bodily fluids for easier clone maintenance, the Master's armor consists only of a light synth-fabric ballistic vest and a similar set of ballistic fiber "shorts". On the right side of the chest piece, a bandoleer of Kohmak magazines resides. The helmet is diving-esque, save that the glass only covers the eyes to protect against dust, sand, and of course, bullets. A respirator is jammed over the mouth of the suit occupant, eagerly scrubbing every exhalation of moisture and purifying it into an internal "straw" mechanism activated by full hand contact on the outside. The final defining piece of the armor is a small set of buttons next to a speaker on the wrist. The  Master presses the buttons in rapid succession in order to beam down replacement Kwos from nearby facilities or orbital craft.

   While retaining the basic layout of the transgenic organisms endemic to Mars known as skates, it is very clear that the Kwos variant has been "compromised" in significant ways. Aside from the unsightly near-human pallor it's skin has taken on, a single sheet of flexible metal covers the middle of its back, inscribed with the words "



" stamped into the middle between two boot imprints for optimal purchase and framed by four small "blow holes" covered in discolored plastic artificial skin that go right through the creature. On the underside, in that same area, a single high-powered turbine resides that allows the creature, through trained responses and a direct connection to the roter in it's body, to skim the air as easily as its ancestors skimmed the sand and the sea before that. Along the side fins, serrated blades installed onto the creature's very ribs act in the duel role of aircraft wing flaps and as blood-letting blades. Aside from this, the only other change is the set of orange lenses bolted over the eyes of the organism and plugged directly into the brain, allowing, with proper training, the creature to accurately track allies and opponents alike for positioning and targeting purposes.



   In combat, Kwos Masters mirror some of the tactics employed by Drahk Masters, albeit while throwing their Halikar's much more quickly and firing their Kohmaks in the interim. In addition, if the Halikar happens to disarm a duel-wieldable secondary from a target, the Kwos Master may attempt to leverage it's high speed and retrieve it, holstering the Halikar for this new weapon. Kwos Masters are also able to issue three different commands to its Kwos, those being a standard attack command, a mount command that allows it and other units of the light class to actually stand upon the Kwos and use it as a mobile platform for flyby melee attacks or a mobility enhancer at range, and a support command that causes the Kwos to return to their summoned Master and support it at range. Unlike with Drahks and Hyekkas, Kwos will flee to a new Master elsewhere in the level if the opportunity presents itself, otherwise flying into a berserk flurry of dashing strikes that tend to leave them open when they rear to breath and launch spines.

"Basic" Description:

   On every world the Grineer touch, a mark is always left that sends ripples across their Empire and the world at large. Forests are burned down, old ruins are bulldozed, and choice settling sites are purged to the last infant and their infrastructure harnessed for the greater cause. In all things, the Grineer worldview shines through, "Can I use this to progress the Empire or is this an obstacle to the Empire?". The most apparent example of this is the Grineer's treatment of wildlife in it's sphere of influence. If it cannot fight back, it is harvested. If it can, it is harnessed and sent to the front lines, channeling its aggression in a more "useful" direction. The process that began with the careful manipulation and capture of the stubborn feral kubrows of Earth has finally reached another world in the Sol-Origin System, Mars. Custom tailoring yet another breed of Grineer from their newly transplanted subterranean vats, purpose built to live among the dunes and barrens of Mars, it did not take long afterwards for the Grineer's geneticists and technicians to finally lay their hands upon the thorns that had been jammed in their collective sides since The Gravidus Raid, a local transgenic "shiver-hunting" organism known as a Skate. By the time a womb template was created, a neural mapping of auditory cues was conducted, and the lines of mass-produced specialized parts for installation at birth came online, tacticians had come to envision them as crude and unruly (but at least existent) potential parallels to the Corpusian Osprey support drones. What came out the other end of the assembly line however, after being bonded to their Martian Grineer counterparts, was a fast-attack raiding unit capable of supporting the basic ground-pounders of Grineer forces who would usually die in mere moments on contact being made. Elated at this happy underestimation, production of the Martian Grineer and their Kwos pets has ramped up to match Drahk and Hyekka production elsewhere, though, currently, no major combat actions have occurred including them in action, with plans being made to gradually phase them in as Drahk and Hyekka Master casualties mount as replacements.


And there we are, another unit to add to the unit collection. Felt like a logical outcome given what seems to be happening as we acquire more pet variants. Whether or not it's an appealing foe for folks though? Dunno, need y'alls two cents on that!

Edited by Unus
Completed+edited circa May 28th 2017 at 13:43.
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3 minutes ago, DeadScream said:

Keep up the good work !


Are you working on kind of a personal project, btw ? Such as a novel or another game ? You have an impressive creativity !

Oh, thanks. I honestly didn't know you'd actually look.

The Sentient piece and another totally unrelated work are my only stories currently. All of this though? Every single weapon, every character, every environ, it's all dedicated to Warframe. Part of me almost wishes for me to implement some of these in game someday directly or indirectly, but, alas, I lack the skills and means.


Still, happy to see creative folks occasionally pop in to give things a sniff. Bonus points when it's a fellow maker. Fact that you can think and draw AND critique is icing on the cake!

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2 hours ago, Unus said:

Oh, thanks. I honestly didn't know you'd actually look.

The Sentient piece and another totally unrelated work are my only stories currently. All of this though? Every single weapon, every character, every environ, it's all dedicated to Warframe. Part of me almost wishes for me to implement some of these in game someday directly or indirectly, but, alas, I lack the skills and means.


Still, happy to see creative folks occasionally pop in to give things a sniff. Bonus points when it's a fellow maker. Fact that you can think and draw AND critique is icing on the cake!

As a non-english native, I lack vocabs to be able to fully understand all of your works without spending hours on them unfortunately lol 

I understand your point of view, I myself spent a lot of time on the fan concept forums just to see my ideas sink, where I would've loved to see them added to the actual game. So when I see someone who put a lot more work than me into this "dream" I guess the less I can do is helping a bit to give it more visibility, just with an upvote and some comment :) 


This universe has so much potential I feel it will never be "finished" and will always have some room left for fan concepts.

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58 minutes ago, DeadScream said:

As a non-english native, I lack vocabs to be able to fully understand all of your works without spending hours on them unfortunately lol 

I understand your point of view, I myself spent a lot of time on the fan concept forums just to see my ideas sink, where I would've loved to see them added to the actual game. So when I see someone who put a lot more work than me into this "dream" I guess the less I can do is helping a bit to give it more visibility, just with an upvote and some comment :) 


This universe has so much potential I feel it will never be "finished" and will always have some room left for fan concepts.

Owwwww, a nonenglish reader reading MY walls of text?! Sorry about the eyepain I caused ya. If ya had to, depending on what language you natively speak, I doubt google translate would butcher the ones you might actually have interest in.


Awww, thanks for that. I usually use upvotes as a "seal of quality" from folks when they read through my work. Who knows, maybe your Prime-Time mention is in the times to come? Just takes a little bit of elbow grease to move things in your direction.


Indeed, while I don't feel it is truely infinite like some other universes, Digital has indeed left the door pretty wide open.

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On 14/08/2016 at 8:26 AM, Unus said:

                                                         Post 32

Curses! Last minute forgotten concept resurgence ruining my over dramatic farewell! Ah well, guess it shows off that I still have something left in me,eh?

Designation: Juha and Shidan

Weapon Designation: While it is most certainly a gunblade, the fellow has the move-set of the sword and shields. 

  Hide contents

Manufacturer: Collective Tenno Artisan Clans, Tenno High Council,  Kronia Relay

Statistical Breakdown:

Damage 10 Impact, 60 Puncture, 1 Slash. (Blocks with the weapon can trigger an electrostatic discharge to fry melee attackers with a 50 damage zap that has a 50% P.R.O.C. chance or, at worst, makes them stumble.)

Slide Damage: 140

Jump Damage: 70

Wall Damage: 180

Swing Speed: 0.933

Critical Chance: 10%

Critical Damage: 1.5

"P.R.O.C" Chance: 15%

Channeling Damage: 1.5

Amount of Hittable Targets: 1

Mastery Rank: 5

Polarity: Madurai

Stance: Either both gunblade and sword and shield or simply gunblade. Either way, Madurai.


(Insert fair value of various resources here, particularly thermoplastic and alloy plating)

One Lex

One "Sword and Shield Weapon" (The Silva and Aegis or the Ack and Brunt)

"Special" Ability:

When firing the weapon, the pistol is pushed through the "gate" in the middle of the shield and locks  into place, allowing the myriad coils within the shield to act out their secondary purpose,  acting as gauss coils. After locking into place, the trigger is squeezed and the round moves forward, getting into range of the Gauss capacitors within the center "ovule" of the flower motif. The capacitors push the round much further and faster forward, making a noise akin to the combination of a high-caliber pistol being fired, a whip being cracked, and a jet breaking the sound barrier. Targets standing within 5 feet in front of the user will be pierced by the shot and be floored at best and split in twain at worst.


The Shield

The shield is of the scutum variant in appearance but, of a size just slightly larger then a buckler square-shield. The shield is burgundy colored and has a floral motif that centers around a "gated" hole in the middle of it. Between each of the Lotus petals of the floral arrangement are the internal components of several Prova stun rods that, when charging the weapon or blocking, pulsate indigo electrical energy outwards from the center towards the tips of the petals.

The Gun.

The gun has the basic form and layout of a Lex pistol with lavender-colored Lotus blossom gildings along it's sides with a similar floral arrangement to the shield around the barrel, although the petals face outward in the manner of a flanged mace with a small space between two petals on the top to facilitate sighting a target. The top has a small, flat, and open reflector sight with the Lotus' symbol as the reticule in the center. The grip is enclosed in a basket similar to the one used on medieval basket-hilted swords that has the aesthetic of a bunch of plant roots knitted together and has ample room for a variety of hand sizes. The extended magazine that sticks out of the bottom of the Lex's well has a small spike sticking out of it that faces somewhat forwards, yet another puncturing part of the weapon used to deal with stubborn armor plating.


(A completely and totally accurate representation, brought to you by Mr. EternalDrkMako himself!)

"Basic" Description:

Not to be outdone by their Mercury kin, several of the Tenno Artisan Clans endemic to the  great ringed world of Saturn decided to pitch-in together to create a signature weapon of their own to market to the enterprising web of bickering alliances that call the Tenno allies in the underworld of the Sol-Origin system. Rather then seek inspiration in the distant and murky past, the Kronian clansmen focused entirely on the here and now, more specifically, on the one who safe guarded and cared for them when all others wished them harm, the Lotus. Crafted from components taken from their greatest enemies (alloy riot shields from the Grineer and Prova internals from the Corpus) and meticulously put together with as little technological assistance as possible, the Juha and Shidan is one of the few rare examples of handcrafted firearms remaining in the Sol-Origin System. The gun-blade displays the Tenno's proficiency at both gun and blade, while the electro-shield represents  offense and defense, making the utilization of both weapons a symbolic representation of Balance, tethered together by their mother-teacher The Lotus. While most of the symbolism is lost on the few faction-orientated Tenno that acquire these rare tools of destruction, it is difficult to deny that they remain lethal weapons, no matter how aesthetic they may appear.

  Reveal hidden contents


And theresssss the last one. . . at least I think it's the last one, nothing really comes back to mind that I could finish in the two days I have before my vacation hours are up. Feel free to comment and enjoy, this might become a time of spare time refinement of existing concepts.


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1 hour ago, DeadScream said:


Hehe, one of my first "big winners" with folks AND my submission to "The Best Offense" contest. Might not have made it, but, felt a little teary-eyed when I saw her hit a double-digit vote count.

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  • 2 weeks later...

                                       Post 252

(Conceived circa 3 or 4/??/2017, finalized circa May 30th, 2017 at 09:18)

This ones been around since we were in the hundreds honestly, but, most of the others took precedence. Simple, but, might have a hint of value for someone out there.


Designation: Leatra (A combination of "Let it Rain" and the Irish term "leata mhi'orla" meaning "vermin spreader".)

Weapon Designation: Launcher



Statistical Breakdown:

Projectile= A Unit (Latcher-T series)

Damage= 1 Puncture and 1 Slash on Contact, 70 Explosive on detonation.

Accuracy= 100ish on aim (Target-locked latchers will attempt to sluggishly correct their trajectory towards a target, a blessing and a curse.). 12.5 on hipfire (hold trigger to load Latchers into chamber one by one before release in a wild scattershot pattern. Can be released prematurely at latcher intervals.)

Cyclic Rate-of-Fire= 5.00

Critical Chance= 10.00%

Critical Damage= 1.5X

"P.R.O.C." Chance= 10.00%

Magazine= 5 latcher clear tube (additional tube length and latchers are added as magazine size is increased.)

Spare Ammunition= 50

Reload-Speed= 2.2 (Unscrew tube from side twice, remove and attach to hip fabricater, allow fabricater to generate maximum latcher allotment, shake tube to "disturb" latchers into alert state,  stick tube back into hole, screw twice, assume firing stance.)

Trigger= Burst (5 Latcher) on aim, Charge-shot Variable Discharge on hipfire.

Polarity= Madurai

Special Trait(s):

Aimed Volley=

Aiming at a target will highlight an enemies' head (or cephalike equivilant). Latchers fired at this point will then proceed to sluggishly guide themselves towards the highlighted target pursuing by it by ground if it cannot make contact via air. Up to five locks can be made for each latcher in the magazine, with the last target on an "incomplete lock"  receiving what remains of the five shots.

Adjusted Lob=

Simply pulling the trigger while in hipfire mode will spit out a single unguided latcher, which will proceed to hunt for it's own targets if it is not launched directly onto an enemy. The trigger can be held down to allow the barrel to widen while also commanding more latchers down into the chamber. The chargeing process can be interrupted any time a latcher enters the chamber, allowing for anything from single shots to five latcher scattershots.


Wide and short, the Leatra is a thoroughblending of both Tenno and Grineer elements in a single lethal package. A boxy metallic faded green-blue shape in the back and a silvery-pink half-pipe barrel in the front complete the weapon's crude grinic layout. On close-range inspection however, the tenno elements of the weapons become very much apparent, with organic flowing lines where there should be harsh industrial edges and a prominent lotus symbol etching in the bottom being the most prominent examples. The front and back grips of the weapon which allow it to be shoulder-fired are completely seamless with the rest of the body, as if they were drawn straight out of the molten material from which the Leatra is made by hand. On top of the boxy back end, a long translucent tube filled with agitated latchers (the manufactured standard is five) attaches to a pipe that leads down into the coiled-spring chamber. A sensor node covered in vibrant blue lighting is underslung beneath the half-pipe barrel senses when it is pointed at an enemy head and sends that information to each latcher. If the trigger is pulled unaimed, the node simply commands each Latcher down into the chamber below one at a time. The barrel is capable of widening itself by slight increments in order to accommodate multiple launched latchers at once. The final piece is a small-scale fabricater located on the hip with the same vibrant blue lighting as the sensor, standing by to produce ever more latchers for as long as material is available.

"Basic" Description:

"Any problem can be solved with enough ordinance applied to it." The Grineer take this fact as gospel in almost all of their daily activities from mining, to hunting, to base defense, to combat on land, in the sea, in the air, and in the vacuum of space. The Tenno to have taken a page from this most destructive of doctrines, albeit with a far more controlled approach. Crafted from salvaged latcher turrets recovered from the Kween's lair and spliced together with components of Corpussian origin alongside typical Tenno aesthetics, this spring-powered anti-infantry device has only just begun to see the light of day among the Tenno, due in no small part to the limited supply of turret components on hand and the "archaically advanced" nature of the turrets in question. With a bare minimum of testing and few willing to handle the volatile drones that give the weapon it's killing potential, it's up to the Tenno themselves to test the gun in the rigors of the crucible of combat.


Annnnnddddd THERE! Phew! Sorry about the long delay folks! Between editing other folk's work, training, and vacation, putting me ideas to digital paper has been quite haphazard! Here's hopeing things reach a stable equilibrium at some point.

Edited by Unus
Completed circa 6/8/2017 at 10:10.
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So, in the midst of working on the next Pit weapon, I recently noticed that we've recently crawled past the 10,000 view mark.


Horrrrrrryyyyy sheeeeeetttt folks!

I NEVER thought i'd see the day where 10,000 people would actually bother to read my content (and sometimes even grade my content on quality). Whether its through sheer persistence that FORCES people to read my work or an actual interest on the part of viewers, I very much appreciate your GLORIOUS VALIDATION OF MY MAGNI. . .I mean, for taking time out of your own day to look, even if it was just pressing the button, seeing the textwall, and immediately back-spacewalking out at the speed of sound. 


All I can honestly say folks is. . .thank you. I know things haven't really been that active lately on both ends, but, rest assured, i'm gonna be here for a good long while. Even if that doesn't matter to you, I still thank you all the same for giving this old tub of lard a chance in the form of some motivating statistical numbers.


Its been spectacular folks, i'll try to keep the ball rolling in a quality manner if you keep bothering to come! Who knows, maybe we'll even strike 20,000 some day!


Sincerely (and with heartfelt inexpressible gratitude), Unus.

Edited by Unus
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Post 254

(Conceived in it's entirety circa 6/16/2017 at ?:?? A.M.)

Gonna skip ahead a tiny bit here folks as my other project piece has been a tiny bit ornery when it comes to inspiration. Thankfully, this one is all ready and rarin to go!


Designation: Betelgeuse Stellar Core.

Utilized with: Primary and Secondary Beam Weapons.



Polarity= Naramon

Cost= 5/6/7

Rarity= Gold

Enemy Source= Scrambuses


 Adjusted Energy Capacity=

-50%/-40%-30% Magazine Size

 Stellar Core Source= 

Archwing Magazine Adjustment. (Weaponry utilizes the Archwing system of ammunition)


Flavor Injection=

   A new offering on the Corpusian markets, created by the "backbone" infrastructure company known as Clan Tech (Tagline="Every Family Needs a Strong Foundation") and pioneered in their patented  military-grade Cycron beam-pistol series. The Betelgeuse Stellar Core utilizes a series of Generation Two Fieldron Containment Cores to condense the power supply of a beam weapon down into a micro-scale stellar body, providing an energy source that can last from 10,000 to 1,000 years dependent on weapon or tool use. All this power comes at a price however, as safety measures installed into the device heavily regulate the flow of power from the core to prevent catastrophic "nebular burn-out" or "singularity collapse". As the expense of creating the condensing housing for a Stellar Core has the potential to turn even the richest billionaire into a penniless wage-slave, most Stellar Cores are bought on a company budget with plans of cost recoupment that extend ahead into the future for centuries, though that hasn't stopped abuse by highers-up from using the budget to achieve their own ends or Clan Tech from using the Cores as "payment for services rendered and obscured". As the cores are nearly impossible to stop when formed, have extremely dangerous consequences for copious amounts of adjustment, and require precise gravitic conditions found only in the depths of gas giants and near-solar orbit, only Clan-Tech has been mad enough (or is it maverick enough?) to produce them, though that certainly doesn't stop outside forces from simply seizing assets from rightful customers and company personnel alike. . .




There we are! Partly a product of my own love for the Cycron and partly because I LOVE to see iterative technological advancement in fiction. From Test Bed to High Tech!



Edited by Unus
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                                      Post 255

(Conceived circa 6/7/2017at some time between 15:00 and 16:00 o'clock.)

FOR NEXT PROJECT! (6/11/2017 at ??:??)

I gotta say, this one was a unique one. Maybe overtly so, to the point of excess. But, you know what? I'm not a truely effective judge of me own work. Let the many be the judge!

Designation: Akzoi

(A shortened hybridization of the Greek terms akyri and zoi, meaning "Void Life".)

Weapon Designation: Combi-Weapon, Primary/Melee Type.


Manufacturer: Unaturally occurring phenomena, either deliberate mutation or specific aberration, Orokin Derelict Technocyte Trees. Produce? Parasite? Mutual?


Statistical Breakdown:

Firearm Mode:

Projectile= Bolt.

Damage= 6 Impact, 55 Puncture, 20 Slash.

Accuracy= 33.3.

Cyclic Rate-of-Fire= 4.5.

Critical Chance= 12.5%.

Critical Damage= 1.5X.

"P.R.O.C." Chance= 20%.

Magazine= 22 "spine roots"("magazine" upgrades result in in-grown spines that aren't visible on the surface.)

Spare Ammunition= 220 in reserve.

Reload Speed= 2.0 (Heft gun so that barrel-maw faces up at an angle, allow root-spines to grow into their follicle-buds as slow "ripple" moves across the weapon's body, assume firing stance.)

Trigger= Auto.

Polarity= None.

Mastery Rank Requisite= 5


Melee Mode:

Stance= Naramon Scythe.

Damage= See Above.

Slide Attack= 140

Jump Attack= 140

Wall Attack=140

Radius= 1

Swing Speed= 1.00

Critical Chance= See Above.

Critical Damage= See Above.

"P.R.O.C." Chance= See Above.

Channeling Damage= 2.0X.

Amount of Hittable Targets= 1


Construction Materials= Credit Amount ??,???,

 1 sample from each species of plant.


 A single dose of kavat D.N.A.

(potentially also a d.n.a. stabilizer and a kubrow egg if we want things to get real crazy.)

Special Trait(s): 

Flos Crepitus=

Bolts that make contact with or already reside in a dead target will open up the disturbing floral orifices at their backs, unveiling an arrangement of three brutal looking thorns. If a threat approaches the formation, pressurized hydraulic processes promptly drive the thorns out in a haphazard cone, destroying the flesh-flora but potentially maiming the threat. Thorns discharged into other enemies by the flesh flora who die will in turn spawn more flora. If no other threats present themselves, the flesh-flora will wither and die in 15 seconds. There is a limit of 22 flesh flora entities being deployed before the eldest simply begin withering and dieing.

Multipurpose Combat Use=

With the quick application of a muzzle, the removal of a few spines around the rear by hand, and a quick (and torturous sounding) straightening of it's body, the entities' spines will immediately project outwards and maintain rigidity, giving the entity the appearance of a thin-toothed single-sided Macuahuitl and the ability to use it as a two-handed version as such. Restoreing it to a "firearm format" is as simple as removing the tightened muzzle, causeing it to relax back into it's typical shape.


A disturbing medley of multiple life-kingdom traits somehow inhabiting a single form, the Kenspa hardly seems like it would make any form of weapon, much less an actual functioning organism. Even on close inspection, the entity's makeup baffles the mind. A sideways serpentine S missing the final curve with fungal shelves topped with grey fur/lichen emerging between sets of bark/scales/cracks on its flanks, veins/roots rippling along it's mottled white and grey iridescent surface, and a sideways snapping jaw that combines aspects of bird beak, insect mandible, and swine jaw complete the insanity of this abomination. When aiming, the jaw opens up with a disheartening aural mixture of wood bending, joints moving, and an insectile clicking, closeting again when the aiming stops with a similar medlay of accompanying noises.

 Along the body at random areas, lumps of blue growth burst through the entities' coating, softly glowing with a blue inner light. Along the back, in two neat rows up and down it's curved form, 22 quils/thorns/sticks reside, plunging into the body and bursting from the entities' maw in a "muzzle-flash" of some manner of murky blue fluid whenever pressure is placed on the protruding bone at it's "grip tail". Each spine that leaves the maw exits with a strange lump of mass on the rear end of it, leading to slow projectile speed, but, quite a bit of oomph on impact. If a target dies with the sharp quils/thorns embedded in them, the mass "blooms" into a ""pleasant"" vaguely floral mass, complete with what appears to be three tipless styles on the inside. On enemy approach however, the flower begins to flex inward and tremble ferociously, commonly attracting a foes' attention to it if the body isn't already enough.

 On coming within range, the flesh-flower violently flexes completely wide, springing it's three spines into the unfortunate soul in a haphazard cone before dieing and withering away to dust. If a foe dies from this surprise attack, it to becomes host for more of the vicious blooms, continueing the cycle ad nauseam.


"Basic" Description: 

   A recent discovery by the Myconian people in their endless survival-orientated quests to pillage the ancient places most would never touch, the Akzoi were found clustered upon a single Orokin tree in the depths of a transport Derelict, bound to it by their jaws and seemingly unable to be removed save through decapitation or heavy blunt trauma. Attempts to do so to study, consume, or sell the entities  were quickly halted when the Mycorrhiza Mystic religious group promptly cordoned off the derelict and declared it holy ground. Months later, the monks were found to be wielding the organisms as naturally as though they had been hand forged for the purpose, though the Mycorrhiza remain tight-lipped as to how or why they were adopted with such gusto.

Tissue samples acquired from "spayed" or "neutered" (they appear to practice ALL forms of reproduction) specimens sold off on the market by the Mycorrhiza to make ends meet return as positive results for a veritable ark of living things, from bacteria to humans to vegetation and fungi. Often, results obtained from a living sample will change 6 times before settleing on an amalgamation that might not resemble anything at all. What this means for the origins of these creatures, theories range from living repositories of D.N.A. to living breathing waste from experimentation, with no proper clarity in sight for the foreseeable future.


And there we have it folks. Blimey that sick few days knocked me off kilter, you bet your foiiiinnn selves I'll hop back into the swing of things faster then you can say "That was a horrifically awkward sentence Unus, how could you?"

See ya round!





Edited by Unus
Whoops, done and dealt with.
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Excellent Threefold News Everyone!

1. Mr. Mako has once again pushed through like the man he is and given life to yet another one of my concepts. This time, the elder weapon that sits atop the tallest layer of the Pit has at last been forged and molded. Behold, the Binos in it's immortal glory (albeit with beam-display closed in the sheathed position and the Luxor brand tag on the other side. The Binos!

2. The bleak hellfire of the  Harrow Quest has brought one of the weapons I have been mentally crafting to the fore-front, pushing the Orbit pistol to the back of the line and leaving me with something a bit more. . .historically impactful? You'll see it. . . soon.TM.

3. Akzoi melee kinks have been ironed out at last, have a look if you feel like it.


I know most folks will be Knee-Deep in the Red Dead for a good while, but, figure I might as well have some content waiting for when they get back.


See ya in the future folks



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                                         Post 257

(Conceived piece by piece from 6/??/2017 to 6/29/2017)

Well, seems like the Veil quest was quite useful in makeing this particular weapon come into it's own. Abilities might need some work, but the rest? I'm confident.


Designation: Molocgotha 

Weapon Designation: Melee, Dagger Type.


Manufacturer:  The Ministry of Restrained Glory, 15,000 miles beneath the Venusian surface, Exact location unknown.

Statistical Breakdown: 

Damage: 1.5 Impact, 55 Slash, 90 Puncture.

Slide Attack= 215.

Jump Attack= 170.

Wall Attack= 195.

Radius= 1.

Swing-Speed= 0.833.

Critical Chance= 15%.

Critical Damage= 2.5X.

"P.R.O.C." Chance= 5%.

Channeling Damage= 2.0X.

Amount of HittableTargets= 1.

Mastery Rank Requisite= 9.

Polarity= 2 Madurai,  1 Naramon.

Stance= Naramon.

Costs= ??? Credits, Molocgotha Containment Blade, Molocgotha Cross-guard, Molocgotha Battery-Grip, 1 Control Module, 1 Orokin Cell.

Special Trait(s):  


Merely wielding the weapon for to long can result in rather nasty circumstances. If wielding the weapon in only Melee for three minutes without killing a target, the blade will begin siphoning the life's blood from the wielder themself, at first starting at a mere trickle and then gradually ramping up until it is as steady as the health loss in vampire missions. Merely stabbing a target that is a part of an actual unit class will halt the loss.

Gifts for the Supplicant= 

Every target slain through a finisher or stealth execution yields a throughly processed chunk of themselves to the user, be it in the form of restorative nanotechnology in the case of slain organics or energy containment spheres in the case of slain synthetics.


   Wicked looking and EXCEEDINGLY discomforting to wield, the Molocgotha bears little in common to the ornate aesthetics and flowing artwork of the Orokin. The grip, while seemingly a normal black-brown scaled mold on both far and close inspection, is actually covered in an organically arranged  set of molecular hooks and needles that plunge through most materials in order to pierce the skin and sense the nerves beneath. The pommel consists of the opposing half of an orokin cell, the silently thrumming heart of the blade. The cross-guard is gothically carved into a conjoined set of smooth downward-faceing bestial fangs with a thin hollow that leads to the tips of both. Upon finishing or stealth killing an enemy, blood or the target's fluidic equivilant spurts from these hollows as the weapon, through it's own mysterious means, sifts through the fluid in it's search for the red essence.

   The blade is the strangest portion of the weapon itself, starting thick and fat at the tops of the gothic crossguard pieces and then immediately forming a gradually shrinking triangle that leads down to a needle-thin tip that extends only a bit further then the rest of the blade and is just barely visible to the naked eye. The blade itself is strangely translucent, with strange flowing clouds of lambent tree-frog green (energy colored) something billowing about within and interconnected in a disturbing almost organic manner by thin wisps that run between them. These thrum with energy when the weapon is charged and, on a finisher or stealth kill, blood, even though there is no sign on the outside of the blade that there is any way inside it. Extremely tiny serrations line the very edges of both ends of the blade, almost to small as to be impossible to see unless when were observing it at point-blank range.

Basic Description: 

Found by curious Tenno operatives in scattered pieces sunk in the murky depths of one of Titan's deepest ethane lakes alongside what appeared to be a mass grave, both blades and bodies were buried on what had apparently once been an accessible platform of soil in it's midst. Amidst inactive Sentient fragments and preserved Dax bodies a sunken terminal, still sputtering with light and power, provided a grisly peek behind the opulent curtain that was the Orokin Caste.

Despite being bearers of immortality, death still remained an actual concern for a very significant portion of the Orokin populace. Amongst the Orokin however, death was never a peaceful passing in the night, noir was it violent and sudden like murder. Rather, death was something between a lottery and a choice. Cold, clinical, and as methodical as a common legal procedure. For the lower caste of the immortal Orokin, one's age determined one's likelihood of being selected to "become a part of the next generation" and only rellocation to a less populated area, GREAT wealth, or a high caste orokin providing three reasons as to why they should remain could stop a mandate from being passed down.

  If the mandate went unchallenged, then the elite subterfuge experts of the Ministry of Restrained Glory would be dispatched to spirit the target away. For the upper caste however, death was a choice made by those who simply could not take living anymore. The blasé, the mad, the ever-sullen, these would send a petition up the ranks of the ministry for a "Mark of the Cycle" branding, who would then ask those who knew the petioner personally for three reasons that they should continue to exist. If they were not provided in full (or, apparently more commonly, no one stepped forward) the Ministry would go to the petioner's home, brand them, and whisk them away.


From here, details become murky, but, the files stored on the terminal claim that, after a few weeks to a few months of attendance at a place known only as "Moksha", the comatose body would be transported to the platform, stabbed with the accompanying blade, the now brittle blade would be cracked over a holding tank, the tank would be shipped back to "Moksha", and both the pieces of the blade and the body would be buried. This, according to the files, was the only true way to completely erase the existence of an Orokin. 


Evidence at the site seemed to suggest that the statement may have had at least some truth to it, given the sheer number of both Sentient shards and Dax corpses that were to be found at the site, as well as the fact that some undetonated explosives still remained attached to the back of the computer. Whether full truth or not, the Tenno who have rebuilt the broken blades from this site claim to be filled with a hunger not of their own that seems to crave something so strongly that it physically begins to tear at them in their hands. Others claim the weapons seems to project a feeling of kinship alongside the strange unending hunger, making some wonder if perhaps the Tenno may have had some ""practice"" in the killing of their masters so very long ago. . .


And THERE we are. Again, might not be my best work, but, I feel like I shoveled quite a bit of guess-dirt and feasiluzer into the plotgap of what went on in the far past. Sure, the blades a bit on the strong side, but, I doubt it's overkill on par with some fan creations.

See ya on the next topic at hand!

Unus the Exhausted.




Edited by Unus
Completed circa 6/4/2017 at 03:50.
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                                     Page 258

(Conceived circa 7/7/2017 at ??:??)


NEVER thought I'd see the day that I'd brew up a concept to supplement Conclave, but, ell, I honestly don't have much control of what me brain births and where the tangents go, I just filter and catch what looks particularly juicy.


Designation: Conclave "Factors".

Purpose: To modernize the training given to the Tenno by applying outside conditions to the Conclave battlefield. To introduce a grizzled Corpussian privateer and a half-mad grineer ""general"" (former occupation unknown) as "private advisors on modern affairs" for Teshin.


War Zone:

"Hyar tenno! Sall well and good that ya can fight amongst yarselves  (whispers conspiratorially) " gotta fight off those ugly backstabbers ya call mates  when they come mumblin bout "their share", harhar" but, have ya looked out a porthole lately? Snot only you out here in the black. Got scores a cut-throats en killers out for yar blood, yar loot, an yar beloved balance. Harhar! Lessee if ya can keep a "balance" tween one-uppin yar mates and keepin these nasties under control. Begin!" 

               -  Ex-Admiral Mer Capen    


In Warzone mode, the Conclave battle continues as usual, only now there is a crashed dropship, a battered drop-pod, an "enslaved" tumor, or a forced open rift in the middle sending forth waves of captured Faction specific enemies.

These enemies, having either been "riled up" or having been promised their freedom (a lie), will attempt to achieve the same objectives as the fighting Tenno.

These units scale with the Tenno in the match (an EXCELLANT place for Digital to test if enemy scaleing functionality is both reasonable and feasible elsewhere in Warframe.) and can consist of any non-boss and non-"special-circumstance" units to reflect their randomly kidnapped nature.

Warzone comes in four "flavors", that being Scrap (with one faction), Stand-off (with two factions), Fracas (with three factions), and Brawl (with four).



Tenno, . . . you are WEAK! Like raw ore before the forge, you are blunt stone. . . resistant but still breakable! Grineer NEED . . .strong foes to hone their edge . . .against. I. . . will smelt the rawness from your BONESSSSS. . . Tenno. Make you . . . the whetstone the Empire. . . deserves! Glory to the Kweens!

                 - "General" Gorag Kruk


In Crucible, the battlefield is strewn with various dangerous hazards from all across the Sol Origin System, making navigation a randomized nightmare for some, and a glorious target-rich environment for others. Such hazards include=

Ceresian Chemical Soup flooding the floor of the battlefield.

Hardened Infested nodes that emit magnetic anomalies.

Flameing debris.

Cryotic gel-slicks.

Tracer-painted viral clouds.

Cameras and turrets.

And many many more.


And there ya have it folks! If folks would want the stories behind the two mentioned fellows, I'll gladly put them down. For now though, I figured folks might want to go straight to the meat of the matter. Sound even vaguely good folks? Or have I spitballed into matters beyond my limited scope?


Edited by Unus
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My apologies ladies and gentlemen, but, Plains of Eidolon has me a bit shook-up at the moment. Gotta reconfigure some names throughout the Pit, adjust a few enemies here and there, the usual bidness. Have a few ideas stewing about in various states of assembly, such as the sunken metropole and the syndigun assembly long-term mission (THAT is one complicated BEAST, lemme tell you!), but, for the moment, things are a busy button of hard labor.


AND I STILL NEED TO FINISH THE SENTIENT SAGA! FFFFFFUUUUU. . . heh, the things I do for recognition/love/critique/fun.

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                                  Page 260

(Conceived circa some time in the past 3 months, fully gestated circa 7/15/2017)

This one was once a technological pipe-dream until Digital flexed it's technological prowess and revealed the Plains to us. Made the concept sooooo much more feasible.


Because of it's inordinate size, I'll be doling out updates for it slowly and carefully until I have filled in the gaps.


Designation: The New Tethys Arco-Sphere.

Location:  Midwestern Pacific Ocean, Sea Platform 3.


Advertising Cinematic:



(Screen filled with static)


(Clinking sound)

"Helloooooo? Is this piecea spacer. . ."

(screen adjusts, revealing a dimly lit room with the outline of a man's upper-body in the center)

"Harhar!, ahoy there fellow scum! This be yar frenly admeral speakin! I'll be frank Tenno, I be needin yar help something fierce."

(Screen transitions to reveal a distant large metal platform in the middle of an ocean on a foggy afternoon seen from above, as if landing)

"Me home, Barboga, she been found at last."

(Gunfire begins to erupt from somewhere below the camera in addition to rockets from the sides as the camera closes in, sporadic gunfire is returned from the platform as a maze of low-set perfectly square black-blue buildings finally resolve themselves from the seemingly solid square in the sea.)

"Try as we might to float under thar radar, the lost men be houndin us now somethin fierce. . ."

(Camera focuses in on a distant rooftop where a turret of sorts has managed to assemble itself in a liquid manner from the roof material)

". . . albeit not witho acquirin a bloody nose. . ."

(a harpoon fires from the turret's barrel and slams into the camera bearer. The camera twists loose from the housing, dangleing from a chord and revealing to the viewer that it was attached to a Grineer dropship. Blood pools around where the harpoon has struck as it falls and several others can be seen receiveing the same treatment in the background.)

". . . or twelve, harharhar."

(Camera and vehicle splash down into the water, revealing organized teams of dragas of varying types standing atop submarine platforms held "aloft" by giant roters exchanging fire with a large wall seemingly made of liquid mercury where gritty looking men and women in strange opaque and body-tight blue suits that allow one to see the tattered synthetic textiles they wear as plain cloths beneath and torpedo turrets pop in and out of it like water. A large and bulky looking machine with an almost blinding orange light on top is puttering towards the wall as the wall turrets and people shoot frantically at it and the dragas)

"But try as we might. . ."

(The dull shake of an explosion jolts the camera, causeing it to go dark)

". . . wer on our last few sea legs out here."

(Screen flickers back on to the dim-lit room and the figure)

"So, Tenno, what say ye? Ya willin to help a salty old sea-brow  keep hiz olllll ship afloat? Don't worry bout the payout. . ."

(The figure holds up an Orokin Cell in a glowing container that still has a pair of Grineer hands wrapped around it, revealing his face. Above the snaggle-toothed grin (as if delivering the punchline to a particularly hilarious joke), Infested and oceanic tattoos line his grizzled and wind-battered features, exceedingly "average". . . save for the fact that, in place of his eyes, a pair of M.O.A. eyes on short plastique stalks jerkily focus on the screen. The room lights up to reveal he is sitting on a chair in a room where dozens of similar containers are scattered about messily alongside the viscera of various butchered Grineer)

". . . I've already taken care a that."

(As the man throws his head back in the beginning of a long cackle, a raucously decorated osprey with tiny M.O.A. legs and feathers glued across it dashes in and snatches the canister with a static-filled "RAWK!". It quickly turns and rockets out of the room, brushing past the camera and causing it to jerk. The man looks surprised for a few moments before leaping from the chair brandishing a red-energized black and white sydon knocking the camera onto it's side)

(Said as if fading into distance. Sounds of clattering and crashing abound)

"Avast ye outdated bag a feathers an bolts! When I get my hands on that scrawny polymer neck a yours. . ."

(Techno-Piraty music starts up)

(Sudden transition to title sequence of a tidal wave crashing against a sandy shore, revealing "Warframe: Restless Depths" on the metal beneath)

(Transition to additional additional information again by tidal wave)

(Transition to camera finally hitting sea floor, scaring away a Lanx variant and what appears to be a mangled humanoid body with it's feet placed in a sharklike pattern and bones sticking through the skin)

(A sudden extremely low decibel whale-call occurs and something absolutely GARGANTUAN with a giant light-bordered maw drifts towards the camera from the oceanic black at menacing speed before the ad ends.)




Vay Hek


Ex-Admiral Mer Cappen=

Formerly the scion of one of the military families of the Corpus before the expensive concept of having a standing military was phased out and replaced by the hiring of mercenaries and the use of proxies, Mer Cappen was once meant to sit at the forefront of fleet actions before he rebelled against the dry and passionless practices practiced by the admiralty. Rousing a rebellion amongst the the now jobless crew, Mer Cappen seized control of several mothballed military assets and fled with a sizable contingent of troops to the backwater of Europa, where they became the largest privateer group in the Sol-Origin system. Sadly, the fervor of the cause soon faded from the hearts of much of the crew and, soon, thoughts turned to greed and paranoia as it gradually fractured, splintered, and was defected from by many, eventually leading to the Admiral being shived in the gut and both eyes by power-hungry recruits, tossed into an escape-pod, and left to fly onto a random trajectory. As always though, luck seemed to favor the grizzled old fellow as his pod shocked into Earth orbit and plunged into the briny depths just outside Barboga's hull. Retrieved and cared for to the best of the inhabitant's abilities, Mer Cappen stands as one of the isle's prodigal adopted sons and the face of it when dealing with foreign powers, willing and able to do what it takes to make sure Barboga comes out on top in many an important deal.

Grandmother Tessa "Slit-Throat" Thetch=

"Tenno! Come in, come in! Just in time for my free salmon fillet per-ton-purchased discount!"-

An elderly women with a love of children in her heart, a culinary eye towards seafood, and a razor sharp business mentality when it comes to the bulk transport of basic goods. Through a combination of diplomacy, disarming charm, and pure terror-inspiring brutality, Grandmother Thetch has cornered the market on bulk shipping to Barboga in it's totality since the day it opened it's businesses to outside powers. Tenno will get to know her through the resource exchange services she provides in the form of her "Barboga's Best" trade company.

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I'm [•| d34& y£! ?{;m;t;>e5. 5to9 your n0[~€£5!(al a€|!€/ f!5€!€9 @nd find £3 6€?ore 1 9€.


A retired soldier from the endless war against unnatural nature and now the grineer that has gone on for decades in and around Barboga, Koyaweg eventually suffered a mental breakdown and was honorably discharged from service into the local Pub system. Bounced from institution to institution over the course of three years in a state of crippling melancholy, Koyaweg eventually found himself under the care of the hard-nosed caretaker of "The Hollow Leg" Pub, Tanaya. . . and immediately making a positive turnaround, almost TO positive. Now an irrepressible optimist (to a fault) and styling himself as a "friendly business man" in the tattered garb of a conglomerate merchant, the wild-eyed ex-soldier now has a mind filled with grand financial buzzwords and his heart set on flexing mercantile muscles he never knew he had.


Direct and blunt are two words that may as well have belonged on a permanent name-tag for this ex-soldier of the seas. Never one for the long nights of endless nothing occasionally interspersed with frantic bouts of life-and-death action, the laid-back tomboy took the first chance she could to duck out of the line of fire. Having a distinguished life-saving service record, few (at least those who cared for their bones anyway) felt the need to stop her, and she soon took up residence in the battered husk of a building on the outskirts of the city, up next to the wall "close to the action, but far enough away to avoid getting stuck in it again.". From these humble origins, she built up her reputation as a no-nonsense bartender, always as willing to take in a boat-load of amputated infantrymen as to rebreak the noses of those same infantrymen when they try to pinch more hooch then her "Ration Box" allows. It was into this bustling atmosphere that a disheveled and down-and-out Koyaweg was shuffled in . . .and the seeds of something greater were sown.


Vay Hek's Royal Service Corps=

An overblown title for what amounts to a smattering of assets (vehicles, personnel, materials, etc) privately owned by the governor himself, the Corps only current goal is to find a way to remove the corsairs by any means so that Barboga  ("NEW DEIMOS!" according to Hek) can be claimed as the planetary capital of the Frontier (and secretly, to Hek, as a pleasure palace to call his own). Alas, their attrition tactics have begun to make headway on the battered artificial isle. Could the Tenno tip the scales back in the Corsair's favor?

The Barbogan Corsairs=

Descendants of stranded human workers who kept the service platforms for _____ and basic commerce functional in the days of the Empire, the Corsairs have been hardened by centuries of survival alone in a world that they had largely assumed had been cleared of all human life until the discovery of radio transmissions all across the system decades ago. Years of isolation and self-sufficiency (thanks in no small part to the platform's extensive self-maintenance systems) have led to a unique clannish utilitarian society of fishermen, salvagers, sailors, and, of course, pirates (a ritualized way of settling critical grievances is by naval combat till a ship is crippled and it's captain captured.). It is only recently that commerce has initiated with the more "rogue" elements of the Sol-Origin system, as the Corsairs remained leery of contacting the Corpus (as their resemblance to their former masters is uncanny) and the Grineer (who were once being considered as their ultimate replacements before the war threw all Orokin plans into disarray.). Unfortunately, the new residents of Earth had other plans. . .

The Forgotten

What lies below. . .

The Old Light

. . . and what lies beyond.



Foamed Aluminum Pearls= Found in the transgenic barnacles (purpose-built by the Orokin for ease-of-production) that sway and swish with the liquid hull of Barboga, these pearls are quite valuable for reasons both monetary and mechanical. When not being incorporated into sea-going craft, temporary structures, or light weaponry, Foamed Aluminum Pearls are used as a form of currency among the Corsairs, although credits are commonly used when dealing with outsiders.

Supercavitation Generator: Once a powerful tool of the Orokin utilized to boost worker efficiency beneath the waves, the rarity of the cells once required to utilize them has led to a decrease of use in these esoteric machines as well as a transition over into the far more power-hungry-but-still-functional microwave-powered personal models. When activated, the generator forms a thin supercaviitation bubble around the user, allowing them to perform actions at roughly the same speed as one could on the surface. For Tenno, this means that, in exchange for gradual power consumption while it's activated, under-water Archwing travel assumes the same speeds and reactivity as in-air movement. Naturally, these devices can be further augmented with three separate side upgrades (purchased via pearls) that have emerged over the years, those being the Charge Recycler (S.G. only uses half an energy point per moment activated), the Kinetic Supplement (Melee Attacks while using an S.G. temporarily halt consumption) and the Cavitation Ram (Flying into enemy units while under the effects of an S.G. underwater causes 35 Impact damage and knocks them back in a stumble.). S.G.s automatically shut-down on contact with an atmosphere, lack of power, or on accidental activation, remaining dormant for about two minutes before returning to stand-by mode.


Barboga's Best Tradehouse=

The busiest (and, as of only recently, the only) area of mercantile contact with the outside world for Barboga, the Tradehouse is the throbbing cardiac artery from which all material flows outward and all wealth flows in. Heavily guarded at any and all times by a slew of readjusted security systems and a rotating shift of overpaid merchant militia, nothing illicit can go on on the gantries, the helipads within, and pens both outside and beneath the dockyard without the gaze of Grandmother Thatch washing over it like high-tide. Between her heavy security systems, her ubiquitous surveillance into each and every transaction going on, and her fantastic wealth, the aged gladiator-turned-fiscal matron is secure in her monopoly and the community hopes to keep it that way.

Koyaweg's Bounty=

The drifting hulk of a battered Orokin scout submarine, refurbished and tethered to Barboga by retired soldiers Koyaweg and Tanaya as their permanent home. The large vessel's intact communications systems, large cargo-bay, and relatively air-tight nature has  allowed the pair to refurbish and reopen it as a floating hunting lodge of sorts, complete with wall-to-wall-to-ceiling grisly trophies of just about every phyla in addition to pre and post-orokin salvage from the depths. A quirky gaggle of three A-M.O.A.s has taken residence outside and inside the hull. Though Hu (red), Mu (green), and Lu (blue) are inquisitive to the point of annoyance and tend to "bicker" loud enough to raise any customer's attention, they still provide a service and earn their keep in the form of hauling carcasses through the briny depths back to the Bounty and add a bit of liveliness to contrast with the gruesome decor.

Samodeus' Wreckage


Shot down during the Old War by foes unknown, this mangled hulk is the final resting place of the self-proclaimed cephalon genius Samodeus. Buried deep into the seabed and surrounded by high-level active defenses, this well-hidden and difficult-to-reach locale seems to offer little beyond the rare benthic organisms that are found occasionally circling the hull. Those who brave the ancient fire of it's guns and who hold a piece of his "art" however, may find a reward worth more then platinum waiting for them inside in it's dim corridors and on it's flickering consoles. . .

The Gunge



In the aftermath of the Grey Goo catastrophe that scrubbed the Earth clean of 99% of all native life, the proto-Orokin wished to accelerate the cleansing process by removing the remaining roiling masses of organic tissue that steadfastly refused to roll over and die of starvation in a timely manner. With the slow and arduous process of hauling the material up into orbit and firing it into Sol becoming far to labor and resource intensive for the still reeling population, corner cutting procedures were implemented. Put simply, the remaining material was placed inside sealed pods and fired down into the deepest oceanic crevices as could be found and largely forgotten about. In time, as the proto-Orokin transitioned into the Orokin of the gilded age,  the dumping was all but forgotten and, by the time of the Sentient war, few remained who could even point out on a map of Earth where anything was centuries before.


Under this shroud of lost information, the Gunge has grown from it's unholy crevices, twisting tendrils of night-black sludge with a dull volcanic glow coating the sea floor in a patchwork of disturbing facsimiles of trees and plants where no light ever touches, inhabited by crude puppets that are not entirely man or beast. In these "black meadows", pristine items hundreds of years old remain for the taking, unused by the stagnate Gunge as it feeds on the dead that rain from above and geothermal heat. Ignoring the potential mass suicide of attempting to disturb the Gunge for these treasures, there's a fortune to be had down in the murk. . . have ye the pair that clank to test the waters?





Barboga's Best Tradehouse

Here at the Tradehouse, several services can be acquired from Grandmother and her myriad blood and adopted relatives. First and foremost, Common resources can be exchanged at unequal rates in order to fill in gaps in one's inventory in 250 to 125, 500 to 250, 750 to 375, and 1000 to 500 allotments. In addition, for a "modest" 30,000 dollar fee, grandmother's associates can pull a few simple strings to "supply" vulnerable areas on the Sol-Origin map with resources for Tenno to ransack, acting as a resource booster, but ONLY for common resources for 30 minutes.

Koyaweg's/ Tanaya's Bounty=

Run by a former soldier and his wife who have retired to a "less hazardous" occupation, Koyaweg's Bounty sells spear-guns (spears must be acquired from Cetus), attractant, and nerve agent dosages to allow daring fishermen to battle the fiercest aberrations that lurk in the murk below hand-to-hand. Particularly fierce prey can be sent back by A-M.O.A. tow on defeat and be turned into head mounts and ceiling-mounted dioramas. Particularly ambitious fishermen can even take bounties on particularly malicious organisms who have earned reputations as man-eaters or are the result of accidental exposure to orokin machines or other more sinister sources.

Individuals interested in hunting the beasts of the depths can (and will be pressured to) receive a free "Koymunicator" device that will allow one to contact one (or more, depending on the kill) of the couple's A-M.O.A.s for one of their various offered options.

(Deep-Sea Fishing 101)=

Unlike the more sedentary land-bound fishing style, fishing like a Corsair is far more of a battle of life-and-death. After the spear is lodged into a target's hide, the shooter must hold onto the tether as the entity struggles and thrashes in species unique ways, carefully scaling up the tether until they reach the beast. Once there, the real battle begins (via button prompts) whereby the hunter must strike at various points on the prey's form in order to cripple and (hopefully) kill it. Careless hunters can find themselves hurled off and viciously mauled or bashed against scenery or even suffer more esoteric effects such as poisoning or finding themselves at the center of an angry pack. Subsequent "reattachment" to the target will result in easier and easier battles if the prey isn't outright killed on the first try (though exceptions exist). At the end, when the battle culminates and the horror floats bleeding it's last, options present themselves. Depending on the hunter's goal, they can outright butcher it on the spot for meat and a few choice pieces of viscera or contact the Bounty for one of their presented options, those being 1. Processing, where the beast is sent back and more viscera is extracted from it then meat, 2. Trophy-Stuffing, whereby the beast is sent back and hollowed out for a few bits of viscera and meat and kept in storage till the hunter decides on either mounting it's head or body, 3. Feasting, whereby the beast is brought back to the Bounty to be served at the local Pub (Pubs serve as poorhouses, restaurants, and churches in Barbogan Corsair society) for a healthy chunk of reputation dependent on the beast in question, and 4. Display, whereby the beast's data and corpus are uploaded whole-sale into Simaris' paradise, showing a ranking of time-to-kill and weight on a sort of "leader-board" console found back on the Bounty in addition to holographically projecting an image of the beast in motion on a nearby table and showing off various fact blurbs and anatomical features. If all blurbs are filled out, one instead simply gets bonus Simarisian points. 



Mobidi Launcher=

Standard issue-speargun, a tube with a snail-shell-aesthetic buttstock, a cord-rope body tether, a coral-style grip, and a flotsam wood style barrel alongside a set of CO2 canisters shaped like sea sponges for pressurized launch. The canister is stuck onto a short branchlike-tube on the side and twisted into place.

Pelgata Launcher=

Equipped with a L.A.S.E.R. sight tuned outside of most organism's view-able wavelengths that assists in targeting and a refined set of canisters shaped like male anglerfish for even more launch pressure to penetrate thick hides. The short buttstock is now sculpted into a lump of more exotic coral, the body tether now adopting a more aesthetically pleasing piece of seaweed appearance, the grip a fish fin, and the barrel an upside-down anglerfish with the laser emitting from the angler's lure-tip.

Nemota Launcher=

Equipped with a full scope assembly shaped like a squid's eye that, when viewed, outlines targets in vibrant red, shows their direction-of-motion, and provides a modest amount of zoom. As an added bonus, a second tube-branch has been added to the other-side allowing for two shots in rapid succession. The buttstock has been shaped into a nautilus shell, the tether a tentacle, the grip an artistically carved spurt of ink, and the barrel a rearing squid, its two "feeder tentacles" making up the canister insertion branches.


A thick cocktail of industrial waste, sea-urchin venom, and her husband's spit( so Tanaya jokes). Applying this to the spear before launch can slow the target down and weaken it, but will also ruin a portion of the meat in the process. Comes in Crippler (25% loss in meat, speed, and strength), Maimer (50% loss in meat, speed, and strength), and Kiss of the Gunge (75% loss in meat, speed, and strength)


Proclaimed by Koyaweg to be the aftershave he wore on the day he met Tanaya, attractachum is a messy blend of fish-flesh, spices, and various choice bits of fish gore. ANYTHING will come for it, but certain adjustments to the blend can be made in the nano-forge to draw specific breeds of horror out of the shadows. The side-effect is that, while organisms will most certainly come for it, they will also put up far more of a fight for this food source, leading to an increase in strength.


Bestiary of the Sea:


Unable to take their faux-canid-chimeras with them beneath the waves, the Orokin instead worked from scratch to create a new breed of working animal with which to conquer the sea-floor. The end result, a semi-canine chimeric fish with a pack mentality and keen senses, was more then enough to achieve their goals. Resembling nothing less then a skeletal dog with light-cyan scale-less fish skin and lean muscle draped across it, a set of softly glowing cyan barbels dangling backwards just above the earholes, and a thick coating of bacterial matting that greatly resembles fur, these now-fully-feral creatures stalk the sea-floor like a terrestrial wolfpack, leaping up into the "air" with finned legs to bring their jaws down on unsuspecting prey, weighing it down with sheer numbers and grievous wounds. The echoing howls that ring out below the waves chill even the most grizzled mariners to their cores, who regard them as the howls of the damned, calling out for vengeance against wrongdoers.

Hunt Style=

While somewhat weaker to harpoon and "tire" then some creatures, the Sevulf's danger comes from their close pack-bonding. If you are unable to target and quickly kill a separated member of the group, expect the need to turn around and fight off raging pack members leaping up from below with an outward-facing knife-slash or two. Failure to do so might leave one with bleeding wounds at best, and being at the bottom of a Sevulf "frenzy pile" at worst, as other packmates weigh you down and rend you on the sea floor.

Items Given= 

Meat, Bones, Sevulf "Fur", (Has highly insulating qualities, allowing one to resist extremes of heat and cold if smothered in it, though the colonies quickly die without a Sevulf host.).

These filter-feeding living petri-dishes continue to survive in feral forms despite their seemingly helpless nature. Large lumpy bags of bulging pink flesh and veiny red tissue that buoyantly drift through the waves on the surface during the day before sinking down onto and suction-digging into the seafloor to hide at night, they were once excellent sources of farmed blood and tissues that were highly compatible with human beings. A thin-slit orifice on the top and bottom of the creature allows it to project water and air alike vertically in order to move at times where being sedentary would be a cause for trouble. They commonly group together quite closely into small groups and pulsate in order to intimidate predators into beleiveing they are one large living creature.

Hunt Style=

Seemingly the weakest of creatures to hunt in the Barbogan seas, the Olagoth  can still be difficult to handle due to several unique factors. Timing strikes into their thick skin between their strong bursts of vertical motion is key to preventing a hunter from being hurled spiraling off into the abyss. If they reach the surface, they can even "breach" in the manner of a whale, leaving hunters clinging for dear life to their ropes as they sail through the air, if they haven't gone airborne themselves. Catching them as they hide on the sea floor can offer much more time for a hunter to bring them down before things get really risky.

Items Received=

Meat, Olagoth "Paste". (An infusion of this ooze can easily purge the body's bloodstream of toxins, in addition to giving temporary vigor. A valued Orokin cosmetic ingredient.)


Giant mammalian organisms characterized by their bulging black pupiless forward facing eyes and their small prehensile trunks, these giants slowly float through the sea singularly for young males or in small to medium sized-pods consisting of a large male leading a harem of mid-sized females and their calves. Quite sociable, these products of Orokin ecosystem repair are massive grazers who pull kelp and coral from the sea floor, slowly digest it over a few days, and then excret it as sand and rich ocean manure. A small thick head sits atop an almost humanoid barrel chest while two long arms tipped with thick hooflike fins jut out from each shoulder right below its squat neck. The rest of the body ends in a whale or dugong-like fin that is capable of propelling the beast through the water at high speed should the need arise. They are uniformly wrinkled and brown to reddish in color, blending in with the dark depths, though their loud (hybridized between elephant trumpeting and low decibel whale song.) calls echoing from below make their presence quite well known.

Hunt Style=

For the average Barbogan, a Molack is something to be killed in an armored vehicle, preferably with high explosives, ESPECIALLY if it is a young male in "must". For the absolutely batshet insane/ bravely adventurous however, hunting a Molag can be an epic battle that necessitates choral music to be sung every time the story is retold at a local pub. Shooting one of the females can be suicide in and of itself as the rest of the herd comes to it's aid, but, shooting a bull leaves you alone and flailing at the end of a rope behind a very VERY pessed-off giant. If it can't reach with it's coral-pounding arm fins or flick you off with it's tail, the beast will dive wildly through the darkness, attempting to slam you into scenery to the best of it's ability. If your dislodged at the wrong time, expect to be dead in a few minutes as it crushes you to death with it's trunk or mashes you into a red smear on the sea floor with it's crusher fins long after your dead, bellowing into the depths. It's one weakness is that, being mammalian, it will still requires air. Tiring it through constant harassment, surviving it's flailing, and interrupting it's breathing can bring one down """"easy"""" if they can last long enough.

Items Received=

Meat, Bones, Molack Fat (Highly basic and quick to clump together when exposed to air, Molack fat is excellent at dissolving acids and, among corsairs, acting as an a-hoc restrictive substance for captureing or slowing foes down.)


The Mariner's Dispute

To prevent grievances from resulting in grievous injury or murder among the populace and damaging their tightly controlled genetic diversity, the Corsairs of Barboga have arranged a sort of gladiatorial proving ground where individuals both directly or indirectly involved in the dispute can board modular combat vessels and fight till one or the other reaches the sinking point. The public is not told what the disagreement is about, only that a dispute will occur and what time it will commence. Aside from considerable preparation to prevent fatalities (thankfully, a rarity) and an unspoken law of no outside influence when a battle occurs, everything is fair in the circular arena, from false surrenders, to gut shots, to lopsided battles between grizzled seafarers and simple fishermen.


In "Crunch" terminology, The Mariner's Dispute is a specialized Conclave Battle where two teams, one red and one blue, board moving vessels and fire various forms of turrets at the opposition, attempting to either knock the entire crew into the water, "near-sink" (a flotation foam within the upper hull activates the moment it takes on enough water, making it buoyant enough for towing) the opposing ship, or down/throw over-board the designated "captain" of the vessel, who drives the ship from within an armored cockpit. Quality Points are awarded based on how success is achieved, with near-sinks being worth a low "Jetsam" point, crew-clears being worth a mid "Pearl" point, and Captain take-downs being worth one high "Abalone" point. Points can be redeemed at the Tallyman's Crow's Nest (The square blue upward rectangle where the chap sits surrounded by coffee cups overlooking the arena) for various bundled prizes, ranging from Pearls, to Credit Bundles, to Cosmetics and even uniquely adjusted weaponry.

Turret Types:

Smart Chain-Shot= 

A drone-minded bolos that will either slowdown to temporarily entangle crew or speed up to impact hills and deal damage.

"Boxer" Chain-Ball= Spring-loaded metal ball on a long chain. Automatically adjusts for "lower" pressure blows to knock over crew and to higher level blows to smash hulls.

Canister Teargas= Deploys an armored canister of tear-gas at a very low fire-rate that unpacks and slows down crew movement significantly in addition to blurring player screens. The canister is destructible.

Shocker Suctioncup= A fish-shaped battery equipped with a set of taser prongs with suction-cupped tips in the mouth area. Will adjust it's charge dependent on the target it attaches to, with a low prolonged charge for stunning crew for a time and one massive burst to temporarily disrupt onboard electronics. The insulation on these turrets renders them immune to their own effects.

"Fishnibbler" Rubber Machinegun= Rotary machine gun equipped with rubber bullets. Pushes Units back slightly and has a tendency to cause knockback. Does no hull damage.



(Torn between making em either ambient motile scenery or allies)

An aquatic variant of the ubiquitous avian-esque androids that were once used throughout the length and breadth of the Empire, the rare and finicky-to-maintain A-model M.O.A.s now only survive within the halls of the cube-covered city of Barboga.  Klutzy and clumsy on land due to the bulk of their strategically placed propellers and their awkward webbed feet, A-M.O.A.s move at astonishing speeds underwater, paddling with an organic grace that could seem almost breathtaking. Utilized for a number of vital roles from undersea deposit scouting, hull scraping, closed-message transmission, and even remote communication (the user wirelessly overrides the A-M.O.A.'s control of it's body in order to portray proper body language), it is rare to see these specialized machines optimized for combat. Unlike Corpussian standard M.O.A.s, modern A-M.O.A.s commonly lack a control bolt, partially to conserve resources that would be spent on miniaturization of the modules and partially because most A-M.O.A.s (with VERY few exceptions) are retrofitted to rely on "outdated" microwave power transmission, making "escape" or "rebellion" suicide. This means that, ofttimes, Barboga's outskirts and dry-docks are teeming with small swimming "families" of idling A-M.O.A. of various models and sizes, their unshackled electronic minds and years of active duty allowing them to experience basic animal emotions, though they will always snap to attention and arrive at the beck-and-call of whoever needs them. As is typical of the nostalgic Orokin, A-M.O.A. calls are a medley of Pre-Disaster sea-bird noises, from terns and gulls to penguins and puffins.


Gunge Ecoforms:



Collectively Dubbed "The Forgotten" due to their out-of-sight out-of-mind existence, the Ecoforms are far less of an attack force like the Infested forms are and far more of a self-maintaining biosphere where all actions boil back to feeding the "Gunge Core", a vast roiling mass of nearly immobile synaptic fiber which guides the ecosystem's every action through guided pulses and pheromone vents. Though the Ecoforms are largely contained within the general area of where the "Gunge Blot" spreads across the sea-floor, they are as absolutely merciless as their land-bound counterparts when it comes to discovering organic material in the area. Once "word" of an entities' existence reaches the Core, every entity within the zone springs to life in pursuit of the prey. Below are the most common ecoforms to spawn when the Gunge is disturbed, though by no means is this list final. 





Massive tendrils that stretch up from below and swing wildly in the abyss. The tubes at their bottoms contain a shrimp like "processor" which does continuous damage to any unfortunate entity that is reeled in, though strong or healthy creatures might potentially break through the stalks with sufficient force. Multiple Riftia clustered together will assist in dragging prey in, increasing the difficulty in escaping. 





Ghoulish looking shark analogues with the haphazardly slapped on semblance of a humanoid "spilling" from the "maw". They erupt from pores in the Gunges'  oil slick of a body, hell-bent on dragging the prey back into the mush with them, in pieces or otherwise. Fast, but, like their home, vulnerable to electrical shock. They tend to avoid direct light and will circle to strike from the shadows. Needless to say, they burst when brought above deep-sea pressure zones and have highly conductive flesh.

The Chum

Even the seemingly natural circling shoals of ""fish"" are nothing more then cleverly disguised lures for the super-organism, easily re-purposed to deadly effect as engine clogging distractions or as a living flurry of obstacles to slow prey down.  

The Morgawar




When the murky shadows of the depths are pushed hard enough, the Gunge will push back with all the brutality the surface breeds are known for. Significantly expensive for a Gunge Node to disgorge, but extremely deadly at it's job of driving off the most deadly threats, the Morgawar is a massive undulating black blob that shimmers with inner volcanic light in it's "cleanest" portions haphazardly scattered throughout the amorphous form. Armed with a territorial mentality, a difficult-to-penetrate cell wall, and an array of whiplike psueudopodic tentacles capable of smacking together so hard they create hot water shockwaves capable of reaching sunlike temperatures, to fight a Morgwar is to have pressed the Gunge mass to the brink of death. To slay the Morgwar, however, is to leave the mass in the area lethargic and significantly weakened, an excellent time to move in and recover what booty thar might be thereabouts, hyar.




Edited by Unus
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Log of Edited Details=


Adjusted the Cinematic Transcript for some better flow grammerwise.


Added on a new Resource/Currency for Tides that Bind, Foamed Aluminum Pearls.


Have begun the process of putting in the factions involved 

- End of List.

Hooooo Boooyyyy! This is gonna be a whopper, I can already see that.


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2 hours ago, Sc10n0fD4rksp0r3 said:

Careful in the mosh-pit, frat boy.

   Is. . . is something amiss about my Pit to you? Or is this a movie reference that has whistled past my head like a seagull after a French-fry?

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So far so good folks.

Did a reasonable expansion to the Characters section.

Made the group division sections much bolder and obvious.

Stuck a useful piece of equipment in to ease an important piece of the map puzzle, mobility.

And applied a lovely service that I think might endear folks to Grandmother to some degree. Have a gander!

Edited by Unus
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What about everybody ship Attached in a dojo I'm just saying a dojo together. Why it can't be like a mother ship where tenno go you just sign into warframe in your ship you go to to the door to your right your already in dojo if u get kicked it shows you detaching from dojo abandoned in space it's pretty cool. Also you select a mission your ship detached from dojo to your mission. Also player's can visit your warframe ship but if your offline the player can't get in or if your doing a quest I would say it will make sense.  And u can hover over the names in dojo and track where your friend ship at and visit him.


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8 hours ago, (PS4)unxica said:

What about everybody ship Attached in a dojo I'm just saying a dojo together. Why it can't be like a mother ship where tenno go you just sign into warframe in your ship you go to to the door to your right your already in dojo if u get kicked it shows you detaching from dojo abandoned in space it's pretty cool. Also you select a mission your ship detached from dojo to your mission. Also player's can visit your warframe ship but if your offline the player can't get in or if your doing a quest I would say it will make sense.  And u can hover over the names in dojo and track where your friend ship at and visit him.


Um. . . uh. . .I . . . uh. . . I suppose that might be an interesting optional dojo room option, a Liset Dock like those seen at the exit of boarded enemy vessels. Could also have an option in the options menu one could flick so that they start in the Dojo rather then on the Liset, but I'm not sure how useful that would be to folks.


Seen. . . uh. . . seen any interesting concepts on the. . . first page?

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