It had been years since I’d been to Herla’s, but for all it had stayed the same, it could have been only a night or two: the same football club pennants thumbtacked to the wall over the bar, the same stained blue carpet that had been a bad idea from the day they laid it down, the same jukebox. I was pretty sure the level of some of the bottles lined up in front of the mirror hadn’t changed either, because even the kind of people who drink at Herla’s have some minimal self-respect when it comes to what they put into their bodies. No one wants to be remembered as the guy who died after a shot of something that tasted like cough syrup and burning plastic.

It wasn’t exactly the same, though. When I stepped in from the street, the old warmth was gone, even if I couldn’t see or explain just how. Like going back to a movie theater you used to take your ex, once the feelings were stripped away and you saw it for what it was, it turned into something less, something cheap, something with no kindness for old friends or old memories. But I wasn’t there today to feel cozy. I was there because I had to be.

Koenig was working behind the bar like he always was, all five-foot-and-change of a scarecrow build and seven or eight decades of experience in the sharper, meaner parts of life. When he saw me coming, he cleared the stools in front of him of their patrons to give us room to talk, poured a draft, and set it out between us without a word. The stool wobbled when I sat down, because of course Koenig wouldn’t have fixed it in all the time I’d been away.

“Sorry it took so long to get here,” I said. “This country’s too big to have to cross it on a bus, but I couldn’t get to any of the shortcuts. And I wasn’t going to pay for a plane ticket. It’s not like he’s going anywhere, right?”

“Welcome to life as one of the little people,” Koenig answered. From under the bar, he produced a coffee can and put it down next to my beer. A strip of tape on the lid read JACK’S ASHES — DO NOT SNORT in black marker, with the last three words underlined. It wasn’t an unreasonable precaution to take in a place like Herla’s.

I took a moment to look at it. It was all so ordinary. Probably not the way Jack expected to end up. Not the way anyone expects to end up, but especially not people like us. I lifted my glass and tapped it against the side of the car in a toast. “I remember him being taller. You sure he’s in there? This has to be the fifth time he’s died since I’ve known him.”

Koenig nodded. “Went to the funeral myself. Wasn’t much of a turnout, what with the way he died and no one wanting to get on one of TITAN’s lists for being too friendly with an Outlaw. Can’t say I blame them, but you’d think more of his friends would show up for it. At least the man who called himself Jack’s blood brother would.”

I winced a little at the jab, then took a sip of my beer. “Doesn’t look like there’s any blood left in him to be a brother to,” I said. The whole blood brother deal had been a mistake anyhow. Jack and I both got too drunk one night after finishing off a man-eater in Los Angeles, swore our everlasting loyalty to each other, and woke up the next morning with matching cuts on our palms. I still have the scar, and I’m sure he would, too, if he had anywhere to put it. “Hard to believe they finally got him.”

Koenig nodded. “They don’t play fair, not like the old days. Last time I talked to him, he’d got himself wrapped up in some kid’s problems not far from here. The usual thing: sorcerer getting too big for the little town he was in had his hands on some magic that would’ve blown up in everybody’s faces if he kept at it. Normally, it was the kind of deal Jack would have sorted out without anyone wising up to what he was doing, but this time, the sorcerer’s connected.” He sighed and shook his head. “Jack had barely set foot in town before a sniper took his head clean off. Right out in broad daylight, too, can you imagine that? Not like the old days, not at all.”

I didn’t bother to ask if they found out who did it; there wasn’t any point, at least as far as the police went. Jack had been outside the law for a few years now, which made him fair game anywhere. The only way they’d charge someone was if a civic-minded citizen put in a noise complaint about the rifle, and most people value their own heads too much to risk it. Not like the old days, indeed.

Suddenly, I wasn’t in the mood to reminisce. I’d come back for the ashes like I was asked to, but this bar — this whole city, really — was weighing down on my back more than I thought it would. Or maybe that was just the two-day bus ride I was feeling. Koenig had filled me in on Jack’s last request over the phone before I’d started my trip: “He wants you to scatter his ashes over his boat, the Red & Black. It’s still down in the harbor where it’s always been, but someone’s eventually going to notice the payments have stopped, so you have to get over here. And it’s got to be you. He was clear on that.”

There wasn’t much more to say, so I didn’t say anything. Once I finished my drink, I picked up the coffee can and tucked it under my arm. It was lighter than I expected. Of course, it didn’t have Jack’s ego in it, which was always most of what he was. “See you next time, Koenig,” I said on my way out. I didn’t catch what he said back to me, but I don’t think it was a fond farewell.

The Red & Black could have been called a houseboat, but not if you wanted anyone to believe anything else you told them. Sure, it was a boat, and technically, you could live there, but having spent more than a few nights onboard, I wasn’t going to be the one to make a case for it. But I added the layer of ashes Jack wanted, muttering a few prayers as I did.

In the old days, this would have been the time when he walked up to me with a grin on his face and some story about how he’d slipped away from death again. We’d open a bottle of vodka and traded shots until we couldn’t feel the boat rocking any more. But these weren’t the old days, and he wasn’t coming back tonight.

Hello Shardstriders,

We accomplished our main task within the first 12 hours of the campaign, coming together and funding this project! A remarkable success.

But this is a 30-day campaign and a marathon, not a sprint. So we've set up some smaller goals along the way, smaller milestone markers we can use to keep pace and help celebrate our achievements. And then every once in a while, we get another awesome Stretch Goal that will make our main reward that much cooler.

As we increase the overall funding and support for the project, we’re able to add additional resources to the project, expand the rewards listed, and add in new offers and opportunities. Each Stretch Goal will have a target that, once reached, will add a project to the reward list for backers of the relevant Stretch Goal path. Whenever we achieve a stretch goal, the image will be updated to reflect the achievement.


ACHIEVED! - At $25,000 in Funding – MYTHCI SHARDS SHIRT ON REDBUBBLE – A Mythic Shards-themed Backer shirt will be hosted on Onyx Path’s Redbubble store for a limited time. Only backers will be notified when the shirt becomes available for purchase.


ACHIEVED! - At $30,000 in Funding - MYTHIC SHARDS REFERENCE GUIDE PDF - AFTER THE END -  A Mythic Shards Reference Guide PDF will be created, containing useful charts and info to help Storyguides run an After The End game. This PDF will automatically be added to the rewards list of all backers receiving the Scion: Mythic Shards PDF.


There won't be multiple Storyguide Screens created to sell alongside Mythic Shards - minimum print quantities for multiple screens make it non-practical, BUT we can go digital and have a PDF with the info you'd need on your Storyguide Screen available depending on which shard you're using in your game. After The End is just the start of this build-your-own Storyguide Screen supplement. We can certainly add more as we progress in the campaign!

That said, let's celebrate our first two Stretch Goal accomplishments and see what we can set up for our next batch!



At $32,000 in Funding - MYTHIC SHARDS REFERENCE GUIDE PDF - CYBER-SCION -  A series of charts and information for a Storyguide to use while running a Cyber-Scion game will be added to the Reference Guide PDF. This PDF will automatically be added to the rewards list of all backers receiving the Scion: Mythic Shards PDF.


At $34,000 in Funding - NEW ADD ON - AFTER THE END-THEMED DICE SET - A dice set selected to represent After The End will be offered as an option Add On to all backers pledging to a reward tier that includes a hardcover copy of Scion: Mythic Shards. A drawstring bag with ten 10-sided dice in After the End colors can be added to your pledge for +$20 each.

Here's a sneak peek of what we're talking about. This is a work in progress.





At $35,000 in Funding - ADDITIONAL MYTHIC SHARD - A sixth Mythic Shard setting for Scion second edition will be added to the Scion: Mythic Shards PDF and hardcover book. The theme for this additional Shard will be decided by Backer vote!

That's right! If we manage to achieve $35,000 in Funding, the developers and writers will come up with a SIXTH SHARD to add to the Scion: Mythic Shards book. The theme of the new shard will be decided with a Backer Poll. 
Your options for a new shard, should we achieve this Stretch Goal target:

The poll for backers to vote on their favorite will run until NOON Eastern Time the DAY AFTER we achieve this Stretch Goal. Again, we'll be voting now, but this shard will only be added to the development list and added to the eventual Scion: Mythic Shards book if we unlock this Stretch Goal at $35,000 in Funding!

So Vote! And then spread the word to all of your gaming friends and friendly gamers!

Hello Shardstriders,

We've had a few sneak peeks, but now it's time to dive right into Cyber-Scion, a World where the Gods stride the planet not as legendary beings, but as colossal machines made sacred by the enigmatic substance known as ambrosia. In this World, Scions are not the children of myth, but the rare souls who can resonate with these Divine Machines, drawing forth miracles that defy even the most advanced scientific research.

One quick reminder about Shipping before we get into the manuscript previews. 

First up, it's amazingly expensive to ship, especially from Onyx Path's home base in the US. We get that, but there's not much we can do at this time. Onyx Path is in a difficult space where the company is big enough that they're not saving money by fulfilling out of Rich's garage, but small enough that they can't really set up international partners to handle portions of the fulfillment. So we are where we are - for now. 

The best we can do at this point is to plan carefully, advise everyone up front that international shipping will likely be expensive (see our projections on the main page) and only charge what it costs us when the time comes. We’ll be charging for shipping in the Pledge Manager once the books are being printed and we can deal with the actual shipping charges rather than using our best-guesses this far out. If you live outside the US and aren't sure you want the hardcover or other physical items, you can pledge to the PDF tier now and upgrade your pledge in the Pledge Manager once we know the final shipping costs.

Remember, thanks to BackerKit magic, these download links are visible to Backers only - you must be logged in and reading this on the website to have access to the manuscript preview links. So, if you're reading this via e-mail, click that "Read The Update" link on the bottom and I'll see you below the title treatment.

WE WANT YOUR FEEDBACK

I'm going to be sharing the manuscript in sections - or shards, even -  over the next 3 weeks, Part of the reason for that is to keep focus on one section at a time so that the team can gather feedback to help guide the manuscript through the next steps of editing and development. To that end, they've created a special Feedback Form for you to submit your comments after reading each section!

Hello Shardstriders,

Backers will be able to read the entire Cyber-Scion section from Mythic Shards tomorrow, but we'll have a sneak peek at what we're in for today! If you haven't joined in yet, know that all backers will be able to read the entire current draft manuscript of the book before any pledges are processed or payments collected, so join in and see how cool this project is.

Before any skyscraper-shattering punches are thrown from the cockpit of a Divine Machine, first you must have someone to pilot it. Build a pre-visitation Scion using the rules found in Scion: Origin, starting on page 94. Choose three Callings but do not assign dots to them. Divine Machine pilots do not have Knacks, Legend, or Legendary Titles as these will come from their Machine. The pilot always has their pantheon’s Virtues and moves along the Virtue track as normal. If the pilot is Virtuous, so is their Machine. 

Pilots are always pre-visitation Scions; the spark of divinity lurks within them but can only be expressed through the power of their Hero-Class frames. Using Scent the Divine or similar effects always identifies the pilot as someone with a touch of godhood within them. Likewise, pilot scenes involve human-scale conflict: interpersonal drama, logistics, and the like. Otherwise, all battles take place at colossal scale from the safety of their Divine Machine’s cockpit. 

Choosing a pantheon for your pilot grants the character access to that pantheon’s arsenal of Divine Machines. Typically, players will pilot one Divine Machine for the duration of a campaign, but they are not restricted from doing so. A pilot may command a number of different Divine Machines. The only restriction is that the Machine and the pilot must share a pantheon. Some pilots refer to their favored Machine as their Pantheon Signature Frame. 

The Divine Machine functions similarly to the Hero or Demigod template, supplying supernatural powers, exceptional durability, and godlike might on top of the pilot’s skills. 

After creating your pilot, build their Divine Machine. Additional machines can be constructed at any time later. There is no limit to how many Machines may be in a pantheon’s arsenal excepting the framework of the narrative. 

Pilots must spend a narrative scene harmonizing their latent divine power with that of their frame. After doing so, the pilot gains the innate ability from all of the Purviews associated with her Machine, even when she is not piloting it. If she switches frames, this changes the Purview abilities she can access. A pilot may only equip or upgrade Calling-type Submodules that align with her Callings. 

Divine Machines do not have Knacks and Boons. Instead, they grant the inherent property of any Purview associated with the Machine to the pilot as noted above. Divine Machines have Calling-type Submodules which function similarly to Knacks. A pilot must have a matching Calling in order to equip the Submodule to her mech. 

There are two classifications of Divine Machines, called “frames:” Hero-Class and Demigod-Class. Hero-Class frames have a Legend rating from 1 to 4 and Demigod-Class frames have a Legend rating from 5-8. The Divine Machine is not a Birthright and does not have a dot rating. Instead, the Divine Machine’s Legend increases as the pilot spends experience points on upgrading it (see Advancement).

Calling-Type Submodules are condensed supernatural powers used exclusively by Divine Machines. Like Knacks they are driven by the themes of the Calling associated with them. Submodules have two modalities: one that allows a mechanical extension or new effect when Momentum is spent, and another that allows the same but when Legend is spent. Some may also have a modality that grants another additional effect (usually without a cost) when the Machine’s purviews align with this Submodule. Not every Submodule will have this modality.

Calling the coded prayer-phrases, the pilot beckons her Machine to her side. 

System: Use a simple action to summon your Divine Machine into any pilot-scale scene. It smashes through the most appropriate scenery or rises up out of the ground or a nearby body of water, etc., as appropriate to the themes of its Purviews. You may enter it immediately and initiate Machine-scale battle as a result (or use the Machine to flee danger).
Special: This may be used outside of the Divine Machine. 

Humming the resonant frequency, the pilot summons her signature weapon to her hand — in or out of her Machine. 

System: Spend Momentum. Call your Divine Machine’s signature weapon to its hand instantly and reflexively.
Special: This Submodule may be taken a second time to summon a person-scale version of the Machine’s signature weapon while in pilot-scale scenes. 

The pilot positions her Divine Machine into place and projects a shield of pure divine power that keeps her allies safe. 

System: Imbue 1 Legend for the duration of the battle. All allied Machines within Close range of you are protected by your divine shield. Increase the cost of the Inflict Injury and Critical stunts against them by 2. The zone of protection moves with you. 

A Divine Machine resonant with the Hunter Calling is an apex ambush predator. 

System: Spend Momentum. Your Divine Machine vanishes from view, disappearing from all sensors. All attempts to locate or identify the Divine Machine suffer Complication (3) “Hidden from View.” If not bought off, the target cannot spot you and must choose to attack another target.


I'm like Johnny Sokko over here, extra eager to get my Giant Robo-themed manuscript tomorrow!

Join in if you haven't already, and please continue to spread the word in your social circles and on your social media. This book is different from the usual Scion offerings; it's something special and unexpected, so let's make sure we let others know!

The BOUDICA wasn’t much, by Divine Machine standards. It was compact, little more than powered armor. Even then, the “powered” part wasn’t obvious. It didn’t have the usual bells and whistles you expected from ambrosia tech; the glowing lines, pulsing symbols, and whirring prayer-motors. All that frippery was well and good, but Ephraim didn’t need it. 

No, what Ephraim needed was a no-frills suit that could punch out a cyclops, take a sideways blow from a fire giant, and keep on running with the little maintenance he could scrape together. The BOUDICA did all of that in spades, even if it was starting to look a little worse for the wear. He knew a breakdown was coming, but he hoped it was at least another three missions away. That would push the mech just shy of its breaking point, and Ephraim felt damn guilty about it, but there wasn’t a good alternative. 

At least, not until the Freehold came calling.

This call came in the form of a gray-haired woman — short but stately, with steel rod posture, a handshake like a vice, and an easy smile that was equal parts inspiring and intimidating. The only people who could smile like that were the ones who knew that they were the biggest fish in their pond and any nearby ponds in a hundred mile radius. 

“Come work for us,” she said, and Ephraim noticed when she almost said “me” instead of “us.” Her smile grew all the brighter when he said he’d think about it, and she left whistling something old and cheery. 

He didn’t want to work for her, and he didn’t want to think about it, but one by one every lead he had dried up. Local governments and minor corps always wanted an extra Scion on hand, especially one who came at a price like Ephraim’s. It didn’t matter how many krakens, dragons, or giant gorgons came rampaging out of the Great Lakes. No one was hiring. At least, no one was hiring him. So, he bit the bullet. 

The Freehold was on the Canadian side of the lakes, smack dab in the middle of a pristine spruce forest. One second you were riding a gravel road, and the next, you were looking at a sprawling compound of immaculate buildings lit with the strange, twilight glow that wrapped itself around anyplace powered by an a-tech reactor. If they had one here, it meant they had deeper pockets than he’d thought — deep enough to justify a rotation of Scions on hand just to keep the reactor running at peak. 

Maybe that’s what they wanted him for, another body to keep whatever scuttled mech they were using for the reactor core going while they switched someone else into the field. It would be a cherry job, nice and safe, but he could already feel himself getting a fatal case of boredom from the thought alone. 

Ephraim’s legs almost gave out when he saw what they wanted him for. 

The woman — Alyssa Chartier, a Scion herself in the border wars of the 80s — introduced him to the CÚ CHULAINN as if the mech was just another casual acquaintance and she hadn’t expected to find it here. It was fifty feet tall, plaited with some ambrosial alloy that gave it a silvery-gold sheen. The point of a seven-pronged spear rested just above the concrete floor, grasped in its hands like a lightning bolt. By the time he got close enough to touch the mech’s towering heel, he could feel its divinity in his teeth, as if every bone in his body had turned into a tuning fork. 

“That’s a good sign,” Chartier said, “he’s responding to you already. We’ve had a dozen different Scions try and take him for a spin, and he’s never had that kind of reaction. Maybe he likes you,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. She knew that Ephraim couldn’t say no to a chance to pilot something like this. He looked back to a bay where a few of the Freehold’s technicians were examining the BOUDICA for repairs (part of his fee, naturally) and felt a twinge of guilt. Ephraim Wu cheated at cards and on the battlefield, but it shocked him in the gut to think he could cheat on his mech. 

His heart sank when he got into the cockpit and the Demigod’s systems pulsed to life like a dog greeting an old friend long absent. Arcs of harmless golden electricity leapt from the console to dance across his skin, and his senses synched in naturally: his eyes of flesh fluttered to a close, and CÚ CHULAINN’s flared to life. He was the mech, and the mech was him, and together they were so violently alive that it burned like hope, like joy, like victory. 

These Demigod eyes weren’t as limited as his human ones. In his mind, new awarenesses bloomed. A little flicker of his attention and he could sense temperature, pressure, electromagnetism, and that numinous radiation that came off every piece of a-tech. That last one is what caught his attention most of all. 

He could sense the reactor, of course. And six active Hero-class Divine Machines in the midst of drills. And then, beneath the lake —

“You can sense it, can’t you?” 

Chartier’s voice came in clear on the comms, cutting through the noise in Ephraim’s head. “I can sure sense something down there. What the devil is it?”

“A spawning pit,” she said, and all that carefully curated warmth went out of her voice. “And quite frankly, the bane of my existence. Do you know what it’s like to have to camp out right on top of something like that? It’s two, three kaiju a week, and that’s if we’re lucky.”

“Bomb it. Send in some Heroes. You’ve got six in the field right now and what feels like five more in repairs.”

“It’s deeper than that,” and her voice did something strange when she said deeper. It gave the word spin and gravity.

He understood. He didn’t know how he understood, but he did: this wasn’t just a physical thing, or place, or whatever. It was a knot of congealed Legend, or Fate, or something else with a capital letter that he’d only ever heard of in passing. Heroes fought monsters, but if you wanted a whole realm wiped off the map, you sent a Demigod. Even if the realm was a tucked away, hand-me-down, sideways place. 

The spear sparked alive in CÚ CHULAINN’s hands, sizzling with the same golden electricity that filled the cockpit. The World quivered as the Demigod took its first steps, steady as the dawn, towards the water. 

“I don’t suppose I get to keep it?” Ephraim asked as he walked into the icy waters.

“That all depends. Do we get to keep you?”