The Forgotten Hammer,
Pirate port, Cursed Citadel of the Stars, a forgotten relic of a broken history. Many such places existed, places which are shrouded in mystery and hinting at a lost age of which the Gods themselves do not speak.
But who cares....
Life goes forward, not backwards. Whatever life had left behind was of no concequence to anyone, let alone the desperate souls eeking out a living in The Diaspora. Home to Pirates, secret societies, Lumbering Dwarven Star citadels and fronteer mining companies, the Diaspora catered to a variety of souls in the unending galaxy of the Prime Material plane.
Floating lazily within the countless debree of the destroyed Twin Planets Damiar and Iovo hid The Forgotten Hammer. Once a mighty Dwarven Star citadel built around a rich asteroid is now home to pirates, criminals and those fleeing from the long arm of galactic law. Destination for those seeking a quick profit on stolen goods or to enlist the mercenary agents of The Free Captains. The heavily defended construct serves as a port for the last century or so and for the last 3 decades an official stronghold of the Free Captains. As far as anything they do is to be considered"official".
Dwarves never made anything "small" The Space Ports towering halls and massive spaces a longing reminder of the lost mountainous homes they once had on vanished Golarion. But The Hammer is a far cry away from the once regal Dwarven Holding. Most if not all marvels of Ancient folk's architecture made of precious metals has been long removed, leaving a large amount of empty alcoves and defaced statues of venerated Dwarven ancestors. Many of these spaces have been filled up with poorly constructed dwellings serving as homes or shops. A network of wires, planks and scaffolding create two or three additional levels where only the most desperate bother "living". A large portion of the space station features such "colorful" warrens and often smell like the backside of a Gylormian Boar's hind side after feasting on an overripe Makafruit (for the uninitiated: not good) due to the lack of decent plumbing. The original homes and "streets" meant for actual living generally are reserved for established Pirate outfits, wealthy gangs or fronts for galactic criminal syndicates such as The Golden league. Then there are the areas where no one is allowed like the Stations power plant and engineering. These areas are only safe to enter for the Smith's most loyal troops and are fiercely guarded by massive automatons that once served Dwarven masters as mining constructs but now have been remade and remodeled into devastating engines of destruction. These "Golems" serve none but The Smith himself and relatively few in number. They were made to withstand a massive amount of damage and now modified to dispense incredible firepower and destroy anything with their diamond studded drills and plasma torches.
An immense space originally meant to store massive mining equipment and storage has been repurposed and turned into half decent living areas, including a network of containers that has been welded together into a sprawling town which houses some of the largest illicit markets one can find this side of Pact-World Space. It is here near the so called "Hive" where you can find The Inn. Situated not far from the transit area leading into The Hive the building of The Inn was part of the original Dwarven infrastructure. From the outside one would not consider the establishment to be anything else but a bunker, its original purpose all but forgotten. What is known however is that the construct was made out of an unknown alloy all but impervious to anything aboard of The Hammer, save perhaps The Golem's massive drills and torches but since the last one ordered to breach the doors was shot to pieces by The Inn's automated defenses nothing else was attempted.
The automated defenses are usually hidden in the thick layers of armor on the Inn's front walls. A salvaged Holoprojector casts a flickering sign displaying "The Inn" in simple blocky letters. An open blastgate allows entry into the establishment after crossing a 5 wide 10 meter long hallway filled with sensors and scanning equipment, at least one kinetic barrier and a secondary blastgate affectionately nicknamed "Snippy" by locals as it is able to close in under 1 second, earning its pet name in grizzly fashion.
After passing this final threshold one finds The Inn, an unlikely tavern inside a hole of pirates and miscreants. You'll find few rowdy criminals inside for none are tolerated by the eccentric proprietors Tovan Craghammer and Moarka. Other then that people are free to enter as long as they behave, no fighting and for the love of all that is holy...no bothering Tovan. Ensuring this security is an unknown number of integrated security drones (2 at least) that often look like metal tortoiseshells the size of a large dog but instantly transform into an unsettling cross between a turret and mechanical spider. Both their and Tovan's accuracy and firepower has always been enough to persuade anyone from breaking The Inn's simple but harshly enforced rules. You will find a large counter at the left of the Inn where Moarka, a trusted patron or very occasionally Tovan will serve drinks. A handful of barmaids from different backgrounds walk around improvised tables and stools serving patrons. The Inn serves a variety of drinks, mostly contraband which changed every few months and a more expensive Dwarven Ale unique to the establishment. The Inn also provides its own source of recycled water (and air) and as for food...well... not much, only a bland tasting protein paste that contains everything needed to survive, but no joy.
A dim orange light lights the entire room made out of a rust-colored alloy, with outdated and archaic sounding music playing on a low pitch and one scavenged Holoscreen projecting pirated movies from all across the galaxy(on mute with common subtitles, Tovan hates the noise). Most of the walls are bare but Moarka has insisted on hanging a few tapestries and Knick-Knacks to make the place more welcoming. Generally The Inn has around 10-30 patrons at all times, for the place never closes, but it could comfortably hold at least twice as much. One additional blast door in the back leading to The Inn's inner sanctum is off limits to all but Tovan and Moarka (and Qwai Qwai), one smaller door leads to unisex restrooms with a plaque hanging above saying (Keep Clean or Keep away!!) Finally there is one last doorway which leads to a compartment filled with sleeping cots. The communal sleeping hall is kept dark and the heavy door blocks out most sounds. Patrons are allowed to sleep there for one chit a night, Tovan has security measures installed in the room, any offence made here is generally the last. Most of the time there are few cots available as finding a resting place on the station that is both reliable and safe is rather difficult.
Contrary to popular assumption however nothing in The Inn is free, freeloaders are as welcome in The Inn as a Tyvian Panther in a Ysoki warren...(Which means not at all).
For whatever reason you find your way here or have been staying here for some time, seeking refuge from pirates or peace from the chaotic and deplorable life around the rest of the station. In comparison to everything else The Inn is safe, clean and a good place not to get bothered by undesirables.
Pirate port, Cursed Citadel of the Stars, a forgotten relic of a broken history. Many such places existed, places which are shrouded in mystery and hinting at a lost age of which the Gods themselves do not speak.
But who cares....
Life goes forward, not backwards. Whatever life had left behind was of no concequence to anyone, let alone the desperate souls eeking out a living in The Diaspora. Home to Pirates, secret societies, Lumbering Dwarven Star citadels and fronteer mining companies, the Diaspora catered to a variety of souls in the unending galaxy of the Prime Material plane.
Floating lazily within the countless debree of the destroyed Twin Planets Damiar and Iovo hid The Forgotten Hammer. Once a mighty Dwarven Star citadel built around a rich asteroid is now home to pirates, criminals and those fleeing from the long arm of galactic law. Destination for those seeking a quick profit on stolen goods or to enlist the mercenary agents of The Free Captains. The heavily defended construct serves as a port for the last century or so and for the last 3 decades an official stronghold of the Free Captains. As far as anything they do is to be considered"official".
Dwarves never made anything "small" The Space Ports towering halls and massive spaces a longing reminder of the lost mountainous homes they once had on vanished Golarion. But The Hammer is a far cry away from the once regal Dwarven Holding. Most if not all marvels of Ancient folk's architecture made of precious metals has been long removed, leaving a large amount of empty alcoves and defaced statues of venerated Dwarven ancestors. Many of these spaces have been filled up with poorly constructed dwellings serving as homes or shops. A network of wires, planks and scaffolding create two or three additional levels where only the most desperate bother "living". A large portion of the space station features such "colorful" warrens and often smell like the backside of a Gylormian Boar's hind side after feasting on an overripe Makafruit (for the uninitiated: not good) due to the lack of decent plumbing. The original homes and "streets" meant for actual living generally are reserved for established Pirate outfits, wealthy gangs or fronts for galactic criminal syndicates such as The Golden league. Then there are the areas where no one is allowed like the Stations power plant and engineering. These areas are only safe to enter for the Smith's most loyal troops and are fiercely guarded by massive automatons that once served Dwarven masters as mining constructs but now have been remade and remodeled into devastating engines of destruction. These "Golems" serve none but The Smith himself and relatively few in number. They were made to withstand a massive amount of damage and now modified to dispense incredible firepower and destroy anything with their diamond studded drills and plasma torches.
An immense space originally meant to store massive mining equipment and storage has been repurposed and turned into half decent living areas, including a network of containers that has been welded together into a sprawling town which houses some of the largest illicit markets one can find this side of Pact-World Space. It is here near the so called "Hive" where you can find The Inn. Situated not far from the transit area leading into The Hive the building of The Inn was part of the original Dwarven infrastructure. From the outside one would not consider the establishment to be anything else but a bunker, its original purpose all but forgotten. What is known however is that the construct was made out of an unknown alloy all but impervious to anything aboard of The Hammer, save perhaps The Golem's massive drills and torches but since the last one ordered to breach the doors was shot to pieces by The Inn's automated defenses nothing else was attempted.
The automated defenses are usually hidden in the thick layers of armor on the Inn's front walls. A salvaged Holoprojector casts a flickering sign displaying "The Inn" in simple blocky letters. An open blastgate allows entry into the establishment after crossing a 5 wide 10 meter long hallway filled with sensors and scanning equipment, at least one kinetic barrier and a secondary blastgate affectionately nicknamed "Snippy" by locals as it is able to close in under 1 second, earning its pet name in grizzly fashion.
After passing this final threshold one finds The Inn, an unlikely tavern inside a hole of pirates and miscreants. You'll find few rowdy criminals inside for none are tolerated by the eccentric proprietors Tovan Craghammer and Moarka. Other then that people are free to enter as long as they behave, no fighting and for the love of all that is holy...no bothering Tovan. Ensuring this security is an unknown number of integrated security drones (2 at least) that often look like metal tortoiseshells the size of a large dog but instantly transform into an unsettling cross between a turret and mechanical spider. Both their and Tovan's accuracy and firepower has always been enough to persuade anyone from breaking The Inn's simple but harshly enforced rules. You will find a large counter at the left of the Inn where Moarka, a trusted patron or very occasionally Tovan will serve drinks. A handful of barmaids from different backgrounds walk around improvised tables and stools serving patrons. The Inn serves a variety of drinks, mostly contraband which changed every few months and a more expensive Dwarven Ale unique to the establishment. The Inn also provides its own source of recycled water (and air) and as for food...well... not much, only a bland tasting protein paste that contains everything needed to survive, but no joy.
A dim orange light lights the entire room made out of a rust-colored alloy, with outdated and archaic sounding music playing on a low pitch and one scavenged Holoscreen projecting pirated movies from all across the galaxy(on mute with common subtitles, Tovan hates the noise). Most of the walls are bare but Moarka has insisted on hanging a few tapestries and Knick-Knacks to make the place more welcoming. Generally The Inn has around 10-30 patrons at all times, for the place never closes, but it could comfortably hold at least twice as much. One additional blast door in the back leading to The Inn's inner sanctum is off limits to all but Tovan and Moarka (and Qwai Qwai), one smaller door leads to unisex restrooms with a plaque hanging above saying (Keep Clean or Keep away!!) Finally there is one last doorway which leads to a compartment filled with sleeping cots. The communal sleeping hall is kept dark and the heavy door blocks out most sounds. Patrons are allowed to sleep there for one chit a night, Tovan has security measures installed in the room, any offence made here is generally the last. Most of the time there are few cots available as finding a resting place on the station that is both reliable and safe is rather difficult.
Contrary to popular assumption however nothing in The Inn is free, freeloaders are as welcome in The Inn as a Tyvian Panther in a Ysoki warren...(Which means not at all).
For whatever reason you find your way here or have been staying here for some time, seeking refuge from pirates or peace from the chaotic and deplorable life around the rest of the station. In comparison to everything else The Inn is safe, clean and a good place not to get bothered by undesirables.
Being a massive station there are two means to reach levels across the ancient space castle:
1. A set of massive marble stairs that wind up and down on several levels and can be found everywhere.
2. Several elevators running on magicalrepulsor technology but these are ran by so called "Lift Gangs" who require a toll to be paid by whoever uses "their" elevator. It is possible for several elevators on one level to be "owned" by different gangs who will often compete in prices and sometimes start fighting over elevator economics.
*Teleportation pads can be found (generally 1 on each level) but are kept offline by The Smith, his enforcers generally manifest on such pads in case of an emergency.
1. A set of massive marble stairs that wind up and down on several levels and can be found everywhere.
2. Several elevators running on magicalrepulsor technology but these are ran by so called "Lift Gangs" who require a toll to be paid by whoever uses "their" elevator. It is possible for several elevators on one level to be "owned" by different gangs who will often compete in prices and sometimes start fighting over elevator economics.
*Teleportation pads can be found (generally 1 on each level) but are kept offline by The Smith, his enforcers generally manifest on such pads in case of an emergency.
Pact-Credits are accepted on The Hammer as valid currency but not everywhere. Many people rely on the local "Chit" an untraceable solid currency introduced by the Criminal Syndicate The Golden League. You can find exchange offices at each of Freehammer's ports, often the exchange rates are 1 Chit for 1 Credit and 1 Credit for 1.20 Chit.
There are several ports one can dock a ship, from several direct to ship docking points and three actual "bays" shielded by an energy field that contains the internal atmosphere and allows a ship to "moor" inside for easy unloading of goods.
Last edited:
