IS12 Wiki - User contributions [en]

Redistani Life

2023-09-16T21:44:44Z

Spooky: /* The Primer */

== Fresh Off The Boat ==
[[File:Redistani victory.png|200px|thumb|REAL HISTORY, by Zion]]
If you're a new player, Reborn's setting can be somewhat daunting to get into. With a focus on allowing players to expand the world of Redistan, getting into the game now can be overwhelming as there is simply so much to learn.
You should always ask someone in game to educate you on something if you don't know, especially the wealthy and noble. They're well educated and often willing to share that knowledge. The tourists, especially.

However, you or others might feel it is somewhat 'immersion' breaking when you don't understand basic facts about the setting. As such, this page serves to introduce some of the commonly known truths of Redistan. This is not an exhaustive list, the only way to know everything is to go out and learn it yourself.

Of course, you can always just jump in and ignore this giant document. If you've got confidence, you'll make it out just fine. '''[[Reborn|Roles can be found here.]]'''

== The Primer ==

In the times before, in the year 063BBC, GREAT LEADER brought upon Redistan a glorious triumph. A society stuck entirely underground for all of recorded history, unable to face the shame of the blue sky above, finally triumphing over nature itself by blocking out the disgusting blue skies above with thick layers of ashen smoke. The very light in the air turned a glorious deep red under The Cloud's watchful gaze. The people of Redistan could finally marvel at the wonders of the surface without distress. This short period of the colonisation of New Redistan was quickly disturbed by the calls of war. Blusnia could not bare to see the very light itself turn red. All out war was waged over the surface. Conscripts were raised. The Redcoat and Bluecoat armies marched on one another, signalling the beginning of the Great War for the Surface, a 16 year period of devastating trench warfare that ended in a crushing defeat for Blusnia, with a 54% battle loss rate (46% win rate), in the fine year 047BBC.
Attrition had taken its toll and Blusnia retreated back to its core territories, leaving the colonists of New Redistan to recuperate their losses from the war.
[[File:makelovenotwar_redsting05.png|390px|thumb|right|Redistani spirit, by Redsting]]

The Interwar period was long and fraught with conflict. Without full mobilisation, border conflicts were constant and unending. Neither side dared do more than probe the other, testing their weakness. Although the constant ash cloud enveloping New Redistan actively shredded the engines of any Blusnian bombers stupid enough to get close, the Blusnian shelling campaigns proved an unending source of stress for the colonists. Despite their constant adversity, the wonders of surface life were simply too many to give up. Real flour, real milk, real sunlight! It all seared their underground-accustomed eyes and skin in the most unimaginably perfect way possible. 44 years passed without major conflict. The death tolls climbed, the colonists lost much, but neither side would mobilise. The patch of uninhabitable land that was the New Redistani/Blusnian border, once a small gash of scar tissue in the land, barely wider than a billboard, had now grown to over 500 metres across. Forgotten soldiers, lost helmets, discarded landmines and failed bombs littered the lands between. The fields served as a museum, showcasing the slow but steady improvements both nations had made to their arsenals over the past four decades. Each side was no longer reliant on ancient surplus, but had instead constructed designs of their own. One contemporary soldier was now equivalent in firepower to ten Great War soldiers.

In 003BBC, Redistan, having now come close to depleting the forests of New Redistan, was sure to face a crisis. Without unending material to burn, The Cloud would surely break up! The horror of the blue sky above would reveal itself once more! With science being too slow to answer, there was only one choice. The disgusting emerald jungles of the filthy wine drinking, snail and cheese eating Greenslanders. The giant Greenslandian trees would be brought back and incinerated. The Redistanis had exploited the wood of the roots for so long. Now they could finally take the trunks. Whatever they couldn't take back, they would raze.

Greensland was rife with vibrant Green foliage, rich Blue skies and clear, deep azure water. It was something out of a horror book. From the Redcoats army, a sizeable division of patriots willing to endure the torture of the blue sky were sent to reclaim the jungle for Redistan. With captured Blusnian tilt-rotors, now finally usable when not in an airspace of pure ash, the loyal 5th & 4th Volunteer Redistani Patriot Divisions made their way onward to a self-assured victory, flanked by napalm dropping Redistani tilt-rotors, flying low enough to trim the hedges. Typically neutral to both, sharing a border with the New Redistanis had made the Greenslanders paranoid. Decades of preparation and training for an invasion by an overwhelming force, as well as begrudging proxy support from the Blusnian government in the form of trainers and munitions, made the Greensland war go from a patriotic stomp to a devastating crawl through thousands of miles of infested jungle, both bug and frog.

The Blusnians knew an opportunity when they saw one. With the most dedicated and loyal of Redistan's troops otherwise occupied, Mr. President O. Obluma realised the border forces could be ground down and the filthy Redistani colonists behind them could finally be put down. Pushing against the frigid North-Eastern New Redistani/Blusnian border, the full mobilisation of the Bluecoats signaled the start of the Cold Hot War. Committed to the defensive, the Redcoats forced hard to move from their posts for very long. Both sides spent the war exchanging the same pieces of land over and over until the border towns and bases they fought so desperately over were little more than fields of snowed in rubble, covered in tattered Red and Blue rags and paint. Three years into the conflict,--the war in Greensland still ongoing, however looking unfortunate for the Greenslanders--, the Redistanis discovered what,--were religion not illegal--, could only be described as a miracle. Redspace, the very fabric of reality itself, or so scientists at the time claimed. Such a finding could put an end to the war just by its own merits. But the Blusnians were a backwards people and it was a well known fact that they would refuse to listen to reason. The Warp Corps were established. The very next day, roughly fifty thousand brave new Volunteers were reported MIA. Their sacrifice, however, was not in vain. Many of the Warp Corps squads had managed to make it to Blue York, the revolting Blusnian Capitol. One such squad had even made it into the Blusnian National House of Government, once a 'grand' house of opera.

President Obluma was famously made to sign a Declaration of Total Surrender, '''WITH A RED PEN'''. He had saved his own life, as well as much of his cabinet's, at the cost of his people's sovereignty. Redistani troops marched for Blusnia as the period of occupation was set to begin. The fighting continued as dissident Blusnian platoons refused life under the Redistani boot and disregarded their leader's orders to surrender. In Greensland, the war continually looked worse and worse for the Greenslanders, as the Blusnian support quickly left and the munitions shipments dried up. Spirits were high in Redistan and New Redistan alike, as the Great Enemy had finally been conquered.

A week and a half later, as the occupying forces got more and more out of control, looting from, destroying the homes of and murdering the Blusnians they had so long considered below them, a debate still fiercely raged throughout the halls of the Crimson Court, the seat of GREAT LEADER in THE CAPITAL. What was to be done with Blusnia? With former President Obluma in captivity, yet alive and a war that was thought to be impossible to win won, the nation's dreams had been achieved. It was a question that didn't need to be answered. No one is quite sure why it hadn't happened sooner, but that very day nuclear warhead equipped missiles erupted from their hiding places in the ground, destined for the now sprawling colonial cities of New Redistan. It is said the first Blusnian missile didn't even detonate, it simply crushed an orphanage. Retaliation was swift, but ultimately pointless. The occupying troops were told to find cover as Redistani warheads came hurtling towards them, but many refused, taking as many Blusnians with them as they could. Those whom could, retreated back underground, to the old country. For most, it was too late. For many, they didn't see the point of returning when they had spent their entire life above ground.

Although New Redistan was lost, the Blusnian menace could once and for all be considered extinct. This was christened the '''Great Triumph''', a momentous occasion signalling the end of Eternal War with Blusnia.

----

This brings us 41 years later, to the time of Reborn. GREAT LEADER lives, ruling Redistan righteously from THE CAPITAL in the western reaches of Redistan. Redistan still stands, but it finds itself in a state of turmoil. Without an external threat such as the Blusnians, a small minority of people find themselves questioning the harshness of GREAT LEADER's rule. These people are collectively known as Separatists. Most simply want to separate themselves from GREAT LEADER, form a Redistan of their own. Others, in the extreme minority, reject their Red identity entirely, pronouncing themselves to be the successors of the Blusnian state. Infighting is common amongst Separatists as they all have differing ideas on what they want to achieve. While small uprisings were common over the past four decades, it is only now that it has become problematic. A large scale uprising was attempted in Eastern Redistan two years ago and although it was extremely bloody for all sides involved, it ultimately failed. Last year, one of the Great Five Cities, Redlin, was reduced to rubble after months of fighting. Although it was thought the destruction in Redlin would have an adverse affect on many Redistani people, pre-existing conceptions about the city made most write it off as 'inevitable'. Regardless, the Separatist threat in Redistan is very much still alive and not to be underestimated.

== The Date ==

Redistani time is measured differently to Earth time. On Earth, time is measured by the position of the sun. Of course, being underground for centuries, the Redistanis have no sun to measure their time by. Blusnians measured their time in a different way which will not be described here.

Time in Redistan runs on a 2 hour 'shift' system. Citizens are expected to be awake for an hour and a half and be productive during this time. They have a half hour to sleep before the next shift begins. It is believed by sleeping in patterns like this that maximum human productivity can be achieved.
There are 10 shifts, in one day. This makes a day 20 hours long. A day is arbitrary to most citizens, it is simply a method of keeping track of time.
Similarly, there are 10 days (sometimes erroneously referred to as shifts) in a week. A week is 200 hours long.

In a year, there are 46 weeks. This number is of great patriotic meaning to the Redistani people. There are 9200 hours in a Redistani year.

This means there are 460 Redistani Days in a year. This is equivalent to 383 Real Life days. A real year is 8770 hours long.

This means that every 20 Redistani years is actually one real life year ahead.

A 20 year old Red is actually 21 in Earth years.

A 40 year old Red is actually 42 in Earth years.

A 60 year old Red is actually 63 in Earth years.

And so on.

'''THE FORMAT:'''

Date format is also unique from ours.

Redistani dates are formatted as following:

YYY/WW/DD(SS)

SS stands for shift. The shift parenthesis part of the date can typically be omitted, as it is not typically relevant.

Alternative formats include

DD(SS)/WW/YYY

and the ever awful

WW(SS)/YYY/DD

Year will usually be accompanied by a signifier of the period.

Currently, there are two. '''PGT''' and '''BBC'''.

PGT is standard time. The current year is 041PGT. Some may just write it as 041 or informally '41.

BBC stands for Before Blusnian Capitulation. It is counted backwards. The year 010BBC is ten years before the fall of Blusnia. It is not correct to write such a date as -010PGT, but some like to do it regardless.

It has been 87 Redistani years since the end of the '''[[Roles|Great War]]'''.

Recently introduced is a naming scheme for every 200 hour week to help Redistanis remember what week they're currently in and what it signifies.<br><br>
<small>
## Red
## Glory
## Imperial Red
## Cordovan
## Blood Red
## Patriot's
## GIGARED
## Hyperred
## THE CAPITAL red
## Light Red
## Dark Red
## Middle Red
## Cardinal Red
## Redlin
## New THE CAPITAL
## Red Brick
## Brick Red
## Megared
## Flag Red
## Redistani Red
## Sentry's Rest
## Red Two
## Rest
## GREAT LEADER
## GREAT LEADER Red
## Redwood
## Not Blue
## Carmine
## Poppy Red
## Red Three
## Soldier
## Salmon
## Fire Engine Red
## Madder
## Superred
## Red Four
## Remembrance
## Scarlet
## Tomato
## Light Red
## Cinnabar
## Garnet
## Red Five
## Victory
## Triumph
## Redistani
</small>

== The Truths ==
''Some factoids/terms to help you settle in.''

- '''GREAT LEADER''': Just as it is THE CAPITAL, not The Capitol or The Capital, his name is GREAT LEADER. It is not a title. It is a name.

- '''Don't Be A Blue''': Don't. They're all dead. You'll be too, if you try to imitate them.

- '''Cars don't exist''': Cars do not exist in Redistani society. The concept has been observed, as the Blusnians enjoyed them, but Redistani transport relies on rail, ocean and foot. If you're not getting around by train/tram/boat, you're walking.

- '''Real world religions do not exist''': Religions we are familiar with do not exist. The concept of religion outside of putting Red or The State on a pedestal does not exist in the Redistani citizen's mind. Worshipping a God does not happen because there are no historical religions. There are secular Saints, great figures that are cherished due to their contributions to The State, but they are not deified. Trench Jesus was a man of great achievement. Suggesting he was anything more than a great man is disrespecting him, his abilities and his achievements.

- '''Bureaucracy is a lifeline''': Without your paperwork, you do not exist. Hold it tightly.

- '''The Redcoat Army''': Also known as The Redcoats. The former standing army of Redistan during the Great Wars. Disbanded after the Great Triumph, after which all of Redistan's enemies were no longer.

- '''The Peace Corps''': The internal volunteer army of Redistan. Currently the largest branch of the military, serving as both a martial police force and loyalist infantry force against the Separatists. Members of the Peace Corps are known as Peacekeepers.

- '''The Separatists''': A term that loosely groups hundreds of individual schools of thought. Some believe the government isn't cruel enough. Others want independence to form a Red state of their own. Some are just plain insane. They all have one thing in common, though. They all eat babies.

- '''The Italians''': The Post-Italians are not foreigners. They are simply Redistan's only ethnic minority. Although many may consider them lesser, an Italian is still a million times better than a Blusnian, because an Italian is a Redistani all the same.

== The World ==
There are many regions in Redistan. As the Region you were born in is now selectable, it is a gameplay mechanic too. It can be worth coming up with a plausible backstory for your character, as you may be questioned on your home locale should you ever venture through the gate. The 'Great Five' cities were once THE CAPITAL, St. Redersburg, Redlin, Redbury and Redbourne. ''This is not an exhaustive list of the regions in Redistan, only the ones that appear in the character creator.''

'''THE CAPITAL''' - A sprawling, stacked mess of a city. Endless, heaped slums hug the coasts and ports of the city with some of them, such as the Spaghetto, becoming what is essentially a self contained city. Gargantuan elevators transport cargo and people to the upper levels, housing the hundreds of Ministries and other organisations keeping the necrotic bureaucratic heart of Redistan pumping. Society here is quite stratified, as various tiers of Nobility restrict the upper levels entirely to themselves. The majority of Redistan's nobility lives here, enjoying a life of joyful ignorance and endless entertainment. A particularly popular pass time here is show business. Nobles love their matinees. ''It would take an entire week to reach THE CAPITAL by boat from where Reborn takes place.''

'''Warmongrad''' - The quietest big city in Redistan, Warmongrad is seen as a giant retirement home more than anything else. This city is located close to THE CAPITAL and as such, has no slums. It evicts all its poor people to the Spaghetto. Most people from here are the children of nobles, grew up servicing them or were taken in as apprentices by bored retirees.

'''Greater Western Redistan''' - The region between THE CAPITAL and Redlin. It's a commoner's land, full of smaller port cities. The main exports here are white collar and mining work.

'''Redlin''' - Formerly the industrial heart of Redistan, located smack dab in the middle of the P. Sea. Always seen as a den of villainy and general crime. The Battle of Redlin, the bloodiest battle to occur on core Redistani soil, happened here over the course of 3 months in 039PGT, leaving the city in a mostly unusable state. Rather than rebuild it, it was decided that the city would be easily converted into the world's largest prison, perfect for incarcerating all the surrendering forces who miraculously survived the Battle of Redlin. All hail Lord Warden Chadwick Warmonger XIV, first of his name and heir to the Warmonger Rifle Company fortune.

'''Great Central Agricultural Sector''' - A sprawling brick of stacked hydroponic farms. The majority of Great Central City hosts little more than apartment complexes for hydroponic technicians.

'''Sir Redford Fungal Plains''' - Formerly a great fungal forest. Redistan's appetite for warm bungalow interiors exhausted the forests. Now the wood is harvested from the roots of gargantuan trees peaking through the cave roof. The least populated region in the nation.

'''Redbury''' - Known as the Party Capital of the planet and formally split into East and West Redbury for administrative purposes, this city enjoys a strangely warm microclimate and is host to the majority of Redistan's casinos. The hometown of famed gambler Mr. Redz, although mysteriously, he hasn't been seen there in months. Also home to the Colovian Canal, pathway to the North Redistani Sea and the fetid, sparsely populated Northern Tropics.

'''The Redbury Salt Flats''' - Geographically part of the Great Leone Desert. Bureaucratically separate. Dubbed The Boneyard by some, as debts are always settled out on the salt flats.

'''Great Leone Desert''' - An artifical sun of unknown design keeps the Great Leone in eternal sunset. Caveboys were just fantasy, until people began mimicking them. A turbulent region. Birth AND death place of the Higgins Brothers gang.

'''Greater Redbourne Area''' - Once of immense military and strategic value, many of the installations now lay dormant. Many real estate developers see these abandoned bunkers as perfect real estate, for whatever reason. The game is set in this region.

'''Redbourne''' - Known as the Great Red Jewel of the East, Redbourne is a shithole. Tensions are high here as people believe 'the next Battle of Redlin' is about to take place. Peacekeepers patrol the streets in higher numbers than ever and terrorism is on the rise as firebombs become a way of life. Although it is the closest city, it is still a two hour trip by boat from the Bunker, so don't expect any quick visits. With the second largest port and population in the nation, the Redbourne city motto is 'We're Here Too'.

'''New Redistan''' - The surface colonies of Redistan. Destroyed in the Great Triumph. Your character must be 40 or older to come from here. The sky was red. It was beautiful.

Captain

2023-09-16T21:41:58Z

Spooky:

{{JobPageHeader
|headerbgcolor = darkred
|headerfontcolor = white
|access = Anywhere you can go.
|stafftype = COMMAND ROLE
|img_generic = Command.png
|img = Cpt.png
|jobtitle = Captain
|difficulty = Easy to play, hard to master.
|superior = No one. You're the top dog.
|duties = Organize the killing of the me the opposite color of you.
|guides = [[Getting Started]]
|quote = "Hmmm, today I shall wander into no man's land..."
}}

== Commanding Private Guy Sitting ==
Captain is probably the absolute easiest role for people who are terrible at the combat in this game. '''Captain has absolutely no combat duties''', and rushing out on the front is likely to get you scolded by your men for endangering yourself. That's not to say your job is all standing around doing nothing. You're the only one with access to player called artillery, and without it, it can be very difficult for your men to penetrate enemy lines.

'''So I Suck at combat but like to spam all caps'''
[[File:Zion362_captain.png|500px|thumb|How Cap players wish they looked]]

Well then Captain is the role for you! Captain can indeed shoot but has absolutely no place in combat. When you die as Captain your entire team takes a heavy stress penalty, avoid the battle! Instead, lead from the back! Spam orders to your little toy soldiers and watch them annihilate the enemy from your comfy seat in front of the cargo computer. Spam comms and demand more of your child slaves, I mean, scavengers... Demand they bring back as many teeth and helmets as their little hands can carry, reward them with cigarettes and hugs from their new father. Deny or accept as many requests as your soldiers have of the great cargo war god. Good tools for early game are gas masks and shovels as they will allow you to more quickly expand your trench and save your soldiers from turning into goo.
[[File:Dennis.jpg|350px|thumb|How Cap players really look]]

Now as the Captain you are, for some reason, in charge. You should use your comms and order function to give commands and the retreat function for when you have too many wanna-be rambos. Make sure to constantly spam updates and cheerful messages as morale is very important. Talk with your frontline soldiers and find out what they need, is it mortars, shovels, new weapons, ammo? Ask the prac is he needs any new meds and keep in constant contact with your engineers. If you actually work with and pay attention to your various support staff and soldiers, you have a much better chance of winning and getting them to actually do what you say. Become the God of the trench, bestowing weapons of mass gibbing upon your faithful.

== Artillery ==
To call in artillery, go to the [[cargo]] computer, and select option 5. It will ask you for the password, which can be found in the IC panel under notes. Once entered, it will ask you where you'd like to drop the barrage in x and y coords. These do not change, and it is a good idea to memorize where certain locations are. For instance, if you enter non usable coords, the default coords it reads back to you as an example are the coords to strike mid. You should learn as soon as possible the coords for red side, mid and blue side if you wish to be effective with artillery.

Make sure to abuse the order function and promise medals for whichever brave soldier or child can get you the best coordinates for artillery. A good arty strike can change the course of a battle or be the coup de grâce your team needs to win!

[[File:Gibbed.gif|480px|center|A successful arty strike]]

[[Category: Roles]]
[[Category: Guides]]

File:Warfareportrait redsting05.png

2023-09-16T21:24:33Z

Spooky:

File:Makelovenotwar redsting05.png

2023-09-16T21:13:48Z

Spooky:

Soldier

2023-09-16T21:01:59Z

Spooky:

{{JobPageHeader
|headerbgcolor = darkred
|headerfontcolor = white
|access = Anywhere you can go.
|stafftype = FRONTLINE ROLE
|img_generic = Redhelm.png
|img = Soldier.png
|jobtitle = Soldier
|difficulty = Easy
|superior = [[Squad Leader]] and [[Captain]]
|duties = Kill the men of the opposite color than you.
|guides = [[Getting Started]]
|quote = "Fell in a trench broke my legs shit game ahelp"
}}

Welcome to h*ck.
[[File:warisheck_Redsting05.png|530px|left||thumb|"I'M READY TO DIE NOW!" by Redsting]]
[[Category: Roles]]

== Being Private Guy Sitting==

'''How to be an effective grunt in the battlefield'''

* At the start, pack extra ammo, a shovel, and make sure to wear a gas mask.
* Listen to the captain's orders, if the captain goes out of the base to protect him he's the key to strategy. He's also the only one that can call in artillery.
* Watch out for mines and barbwire, ask an [[engineer]] to cut and defuse them. If you step on a mine, they can defuse them.
* When the round starts, rush to the middle. Whoever controls the middle has an immense advantage.
* Press '''[space]''' to crouch, which will make it significantly more difficult to get hit by enemy fire or artillery, speaking of which...
* If you hear artillery, you can '''[rest]''' to further boost your chances of survival.
* Lastly, if you see a wounded teammate and you want to save a life, drag the teammate to the Pract. doing this should fix him up.
* Flanking can be a good idea, just know that you can't rush the enemy base if your team doesn't have control of mid.

Remember, '''<u>DON'T STEP ON MINES</u>'''

File:Warisheck Redsting05.png

2023-09-16T20:59:44Z

Spooky:

Sniper

2023-09-16T20:51:42Z

Spooky:

{{JobPageHeader
|headerbgcolor = darkred
|headerfontcolor = white
|access = Anywhere you can go.
|stafftype = FRONTLINE ROLE
|img_generic = Redhelm.png
|img = Sniper.png
|jobtitle = Sniper
|difficulty = Dead Easy
|superior = [[Squad Leader]] and [[Captain]]
|duties = Kill the men of the opposite color than you. From really far away.
|guides = [[Getting Started]]
|quote = "Hm today I will shoot a scav from 100 miles away."
}}
</blockquote>

Welcome to being a sniper, unlike the other men stuck on the frontline, you are fortunate enough to have a gun that doesn't require you to get very close to the enemy. But that's no good if you don't know how to make use of it, so here's a little help to get you started.
[[File:Sniper zion362.jpg|511px|thumb|Short and deadly, by Zion]]

== Sniping Private Guy Sitting==
You are a sniper, you have a good bolt-action rifle, that is able to shoot at long ranges, meaning you are safe from soldiers and sentrys bullets, '''but keep in-mind your still vulnerable.'''

'''<big>Basic Guide to be effective at sniping</big>'''.

* '''When you spawn in, turn off the safety in your gun, and get a gasmask.'''

* '''Secondly, get a shovel and more bullets, 3 boxes of PTSD rifles should be good for 30 minutes in the field. (You can get these in [[Cargo|cargo]])'''

* '''Thirdly, when the battle starts build a trench to either flanks of the middle as these will give you advantages to your sniping point.'''

'''Finally to use your sniper you need to aim with it alt-right click, it also can penetrate cover and sentrys armor watch out for other snipers.'''

You should also aim for the chest, if the bullet you shot through a man penetrates his heart, he should be dead as a jiffy.

[[Category: Roles]]

Practitioner

2023-09-16T20:51:11Z

Spooky:

{{JobPageHeader
|headerbgcolor = darkred
|headerfontcolor = white
|access = Just the home trenches
|stafftype = SUPPORT ROLE
|img_generic =
|img = Practitioner.png
|jobtitle = Practitioner
|difficulty = Medium to Hard
|superior = [[Squad Leader]] and [[Captain]]
|duties = Get the dying and badly wounded back in fighting condition. Steal the scav's liver.
|guides = [[Getting Started]], [[Guide to Medicine]]
|quote = "Doctor, are you sure this will work?"
}}

== The Practitioner ==
As the Practitioner, your job is, in theory, quite simple, fix up the heavily wounded and ensure they can at least stand up and shoot again, in practice, you`ll have to race against time, know your medicine and it`s uses, perform triage and try your best to not break under all the weight your team places on you.
[[File:pracsatwork_zion362.png|480px|thumb|Practicioners at work, by Zion]]
Despite the somewhat cult-looking getup you spawn with, you are in fact a fully fledged surgeon and rear line medical expert, suited for sewing, sawing and patching troops in order to gain an edge over the enemy in manpower.

Your equipment is slightly off-putting to look at, but it all has its uses, the beak mask is in fact a gas mask, the large dark suit provides a quick identifier and your medical belt comes with the supplies you need for average duties.
Along with it, you spawn with an advanced medkit, complete with splints, brute kit and burn kit, perfect for pre, mid and post surgery care and even triage, use it along with your belt gear to save lives, prevent death and patch Private Trench Angels falling wounds for the 50th time.

'''Its highly recommended to have played Medic before going Practitioner, the roles share duties of triage and wound treatment, with the Practitioner primarily focusing on intensive care while Medics do combat medicine.'''

Provided you have already played Medic and learned about combat medicine, the initial duties of the Practitioner are easy enough, bandage bleeding wounds, suture torn arteries and give painkillers when needed, as well as restarting hearts (if possible) using Atepoine and refilling a patients blood reserves with the blood injector, when in doubt, consult your health scanner and the wiki page on Medicine as needed.

Where the Practitioner of course sticks out, is his/hers/its focus on surgery, the base hosts a total of 3 surgery rooms, the first is the Main Medbay, the area where you spawn and the one best equipped, the other 2 being situated in-between the upper and lower trenches, the so called Trench Bays, each trench bay is stocked with medkits, medbelts, surgery kits and surgery table, a sleeper and a little curtain for privacy.

== Sawing Private Guy Sitting ==
Surgery can seem at first glance to be a big scary thing, something this wiki does not help with in a particularly user friendly way, but regardless, surgery is a simple process started with the following;
*Target the area you want to do surgery on, such as a leg, groin or chest.
*Take out a scalpel from the surgery box and click the person with it, it might require more than one attempt, as do most surgery steps.
*(Optional) Take out a hemostat and click again on the patient to stop them bleeding (slowly) constantly.
*Take out a retractor and click again, this opens up the incision fully.
This is what ALL surgeries begin with, Scalpel, (optional) Hemostat and Retractor, allowing further steps.
*If doing surgery on the chest/head and its not already broken from damage, use a Bonesaw to cut it open.
*With the ribcage/skull open, you can now use an Advanced Trauma Kit (ATK) to heal organ damage, remember to check for "Healing [insert organ here]" and not "Fixing [bodypart] as this will close the incision prematurely.
*Once the patients organs have been fixed/confirmed unfixable (It says "Needs further recovery", in short, death), use Bone gel on the patients ribcage/leg/skull/arm/broken bone
*Then use a Bone setter
*Then use Bone gel again (this fixes the broken bone)
*Then finally, use either an ATK or a cautery to close the incision
Congrats, this man is going to live!
More dangerous, faster and unofficial methods exist out there, but this basic procedure will save most patients, although you will still need help/learn the dark secrets to properly do your magic.

== Secrets of the Cult Of G*les ==
Most Practitioners swear to the dark arts, the unknown, highly volatile methods to get the almost-dead to rise once more, using unsavoury means, justifying them with the results.
Most rookie Pracs dont even know of the dark arts, relying to "medical ethics" to get the job done, but soon, they too will find a use for the dark arts.
While most of the means to get better are self taught or seen in person, here are a few ways to help improve your surgery, triage and aftercare abilities.
*Grab two rollerbeds from the main medbay, one for each hand, and place them in any area near the surgery room you occupy, most medics and scavs will use them to ferry patients or do triage on, it also helps mark that an active Prac is nearby.
*The universal sign between Pracs that they are aware of the dark arts/read the wiki is "The Cult provides"
*Groin shots are deadly if untreated, but surgery can be skipped there, with varying degrees of success, simply inject them with morphine, dylovene and sew the wounds, this is only viable if there are no broken bones there.
*Atepoine and blood injectors are your main resource, never be afraid to tell any Scav/Captain/soldier on cargo duty this.
*You are the natural predator of Scavs and PVTs, in case you need fresh organs for a more important role, try to either get a volunteer or pick a dying [but with the organs you need intact] PVT off, most people wont even notice a missing Scav, let alone a strangely still PVT.
*Keep a water tank near your area, both you and patients will end up drinking alot of water, more than the canteens have.
*The ancient art of Double Surgery (Doing surgery on two patients at once) is a tricky art, but successfully done greatly decreases wait times for wounded, practice it when possible, on dead soldiers or the living if you are daring.
*Some wounded look dead on arrival, being more reminiscent of a cadaver than a trooper, dont be fooled, always scan "corpses", they might still have brain activity = Chance of survival.
*Arterial bleeding, regular bleeding, suture and bandages respectively, always fix these BEFORE doing surgery, otherwise you'll waste unnecessary blood injectors.
*Use any free time you get wisely, restock on meds, take teeth from corpses or converse with any fellow Pracs to get an idea of how many supplies/losses you have.
Practitioners and their work is messy, but everyone needs their results, do the cult proud, spleenthief.

[[Category: Roles]]

File:Pracsatwork zion362.png

2023-09-16T20:49:10Z

Spooky:

Sniper

2023-09-16T20:43:13Z

Spooky:

{{JobPageHeader
|headerbgcolor = darkred
|headerfontcolor = white
|access = Anywhere you can go.
|stafftype = FRONTLINE ROLE
|img_generic = Redhelm.png
|img = Sniper.png
|jobtitle = Sniper
|difficulty = Dead Easy
|superior = [[Squad Leader]] and [[Captain]]
|duties = Kill the men of the opposite color than you. From really far away.
|guides = [[Getting Started]]
|quote = "Hm today I will shoot a scav from 100 miles away."
}}
</blockquote>

Welcome to being a sniper, unlike the other men stuck on the frontline, you are fortunate enough to have a gun that doesn't require you to get very close to the enemy. But that's no good if you don't know how to make use of it, so here's a little help to get you started.

== Sniping Private Guy Sitting==
You are a sniper, you have a good bolt-action rifle, that is able to shoot at long ranges, meaning you are safe from soldiers and sentrys bullets, '''but keep in-mind your still vulnerable.'''
[[File:Sniper zion362.jpg|511px|thumb|Short and deadly, by Zion]]

'''<big>Basic Guide to be effective at sniping</big>'''.

* '''When you spawn in, turn off the safety in your gun, and get a gasmask.'''

* '''Secondly, get a shovel and more bullets, 3 boxes of PTSD rifles should be good for 30 minutes in the field. (You can get these in [[Cargo|cargo]])'''

* '''Thirdly, when the battle starts build a trench to either flanks of the middle as these will give you advantages to your sniping point.'''

'''Finally to use your sniper you need to aim with it alt-right click, it also can penetrate cover and sentrys armor watch out for other snipers.'''

You should also aim for the chest, if the bullet you shot through a man penetrates his heart, he should be dead as a jiffy.

[[Category: Roles]]

File:Sniper zion362.jpg

2023-09-16T20:40:26Z

Spooky:

Captain

2023-09-16T20:38:54Z

Spooky:

{{JobPageHeader
|headerbgcolor = darkred
|headerfontcolor = white
|access = Anywhere you can go.
|stafftype = COMMAND ROLE
|img_generic = Command.png
|img = Cpt.png
|jobtitle = Captain
|difficulty = Easy to play, hard to master.
|superior = No one. You're the top dog.
|duties = Organize the killing of the me the opposite color of you.
|guides = [[Getting Started]]
|quote = "Hmmm, today I shall wander into no man's land..."
}}

== Commanding Private Guy Sitting ==
Captain is probably the absolute easiest role for people who are terrible at the combat in this game. '''Captain has absolutely no combat duties''', and rushing out on the front is likely to get you scolded by your men for endangering yourself. That's not to say your job is all standing around doing nothing. You're the only one with access to player called artillery, and without it, it can be very difficult for your men to penetrate enemy lines.

'''So I Suck at combat but like to spam all caps'''
[[File:Zion362_captain.png|500px|thumb|How Cap players wish they looked.]]

Well then Captain is the role for you! Captain can indeed shoot but has absolutely no place in combat. When you die as Captain your entire team takes a heavy stress penalty, avoid the battle! Instead, lead from the back! Spam orders to your little toy soldiers and watch them annihilate the enemy from your comfy seat in front of the cargo computer. Spam comms and demand more of your child slaves, I mean, scavengers... Demand they bring back as many teeth and helmets as their little hands can carry, reward them with cigarettes and hugs from their new father. Deny or accept as many requests as your soldiers have of the great cargo war god. Good tools for early game are gas masks and shovels as they will allow you to more quickly expand your trench and save your soldiers from turning into goo.
[[File:Dennis.jpg|350px|thumb|How Cap players really look]]

Now as the Captain you are, for some reason, in charge. You should use your comms and order function to give commands and the retreat function for when you have too many wanna-be rambos. Make sure to constantly spam updates and cheerful messages as morale is very important. Talk with your frontline soldiers and find out what they need, is it mortars, shovels, new weapons, ammo? Ask the prac is he needs any new meds and keep in constant contact with your engineers. If you actually work with and pay attention to your various support staff and soldiers, you have a much better chance of winning and getting them to actually do what you say. Become the God of the trench, bestowing weapons of mass gibbing upon your faithful.

== Artillery ==
To call in artillery, go to the [[cargo]] computer, and select option 5. It will ask you for the password, which can be found in the IC panel under notes. Once entered, it will ask you where you'd like to drop the barrage in x and y coords. These do not change, and it is a good idea to memorize where certain locations are. For instance, if you enter non usable coords, the default coords it reads back to you as an example are the coords to strike mid. You should learn as soon as possible the coords for red side, mid and blue side if you wish to be effective with artillery.

Make sure to abuse the order function and promise medals for whichever brave soldier or child can get you the best coordinates for artillery. A good arty strike can change the course of a battle or be the coup de grâce your team needs to win!

[[File:Gibbed.gif|480px|center|A successful arty strike]]

[[Category: Roles]]
[[Category: Guides]]

File:Zion362 captain.png

2023-09-16T20:35:29Z

Spooky:

Redistani Life

2023-09-09T16:38:45Z

Spooky: /* The Date */

== Fresh Off The Boat ==
[[File:Redistani victory.png|200px|thumb|REAL HISTORY, by Zion]]
If you're a new player, Reborn's setting can be somewhat daunting to get into. With a focus on allowing players to expand the world of Redistan, getting into the game now can be overwhelming as there is simply so much to learn.
You should always ask someone in game to educate you on something if you don't know, especially the wealthy and noble. They're well educated and often willing to share that knowledge. The tourists, especially.

However, you or others might feel it is somewhat 'immersion' breaking when you don't understand basic facts about the setting. As such, this page serves to introduce some of the commonly known truths of Redistan. This is not an exhaustive list, the only way to know everything is to go out and learn it yourself.

Of course, you can always just jump in and ignore this giant document. If you've got confidence, you'll make it out just fine. '''[[Reborn|Roles can be found here.]]'''

== The Primer ==

In the times before, in the year 063BBC, GREAT LEADER brought upon Redistan a glorious triumph. A society stuck entirely underground for all of recorded history, unable to face the shame of the blue sky above, finally triumphing over nature itself by blocking out the disgusting blue skies above with thick layers of ashen smoke. The very light in the air turned a glorious deep red under The Cloud's watchful gaze. The people of Redistan could finally marvel at the wonders of the surface without distress. This short period of the colonisation of New Redistan was quickly disturbed by the calls of war. Blusnia could not bare to see the very light itself turn red. All out war was waged over the surface. Conscripts were raised. The Redcoat and Bluecoat armies marched on one another, signalling the beginning of the Great War for the Surface, a 16 year period of devastating trench warfare that ended in a crushing defeat for Blusnia, with a 54% battle loss rate (46% win rate), in the fine year 047BBC. Attrition had taken its toll and Blusnia retreated back to its core territories, leaving the colonists of New Redistan to recuperate their losses from the war.

The Interwar period was long and fraught with conflict. Without full mobilisation, border conflicts were constant and unending. Neither side dared do more than probe the other, testing their weakness. Although the constant ash cloud enveloping New Redistan actively shredded the engines of any Blusnian bombers stupid enough to get close, the Blusnian shelling campaigns proved an unending source of stress for the colonists. Despite their constant adversity, the wonders of surface life were simply too many to give up. Real flour, real milk, real sunlight! It all seared their underground-accustomed eyes and skin in the most unimaginably perfect way possible. 44 years passed without major conflict. The death tolls climbed, the colonists lost much, but neither side would mobilise. The patch of uninhabitable land that was the New Redistani/Blusnian border, once a small gash of scar tissue in the land, barely wider than a billboard, had now grown to over 500 metres across. Forgotten soldiers, lost helmets, discarded landmines and failed bombs littered the lands between. The fields served as a museum, showcasing the slow but steady improvements both nations had made to their arsenals over the past four decades. Each side was no longer reliant on ancient surplus, but had instead constructed designs of their own. One contemporary soldier was now equivalent in firepower to ten Great War soldiers.

In 003BBC, Redistan, having now come close to depleting the forests of New Redistan, was sure to face a crisis. Without unending material to burn, The Cloud would surely break up! The horror of the blue sky above would reveal itself once more! With science being too slow to answer, there was only one choice. The disgusting emerald jungles of the filthy wine drinking, snail and cheese eating Greenslanders. The giant Greenslandian trees would be brought back and incinerated. The Redistanis had exploited the wood of the roots for so long. Now they could finally take the trunks. Whatever they couldn't take back, they would raze.

Greensland was rife with vibrant Green foliage, rich Blue skies and clear, deep azure water. It was something out of a horror book. From the Redcoats army, a sizeable division of patriots willing to endure the torture of the blue sky were sent to reclaim the jungle for Redistan. With captured Blusnian tilt-rotors, now finally usable when not in an airspace of pure ash, the loyal 5th & 4th Volunteer Redistani Patriot Divisions made their way onward to a self-assured victory, flanked by napalm dropping Redistani tilt-rotors, flying low enough to trim the hedges. Typically neutral to both, sharing a border with the New Redistanis had made the Greenslanders paranoid. Decades of preparation and training for an invasion by an overwhelming force, as well as begrudging proxy support from the Blusnian government in the form of trainers and munitions, made the Greensland war go from a patriotic stomp to a devastating crawl through thousands of miles of infested jungle, both bug and frog.

The Blusnians knew an opportunity when they saw one. With the most dedicated and loyal of Redistan's troops otherwise occupied, Mr. President O. Obluma realised the border forces could be ground down and the filthy Redistani colonists behind them could finally be put down. Pushing against the frigid North-Eastern New Redistani/Blusnian border, the full mobilisation of the Bluecoats signaled the start of the Cold Hot War. Committed to the defensive, the Redcoats forced hard to move from their posts for very long. Both sides spent the war exchanging the same pieces of land over and over until the border towns and bases they fought so desperately over were little more than fields of snowed in rubble, covered in tattered Red and Blue rags and paint. Three years into the conflict,--the war in Greensland still ongoing, however looking unfortunate for the Greenslanders--, the Redistanis discovered what,--were religion not illegal--, could only be described as a miracle. Redspace, the very fabric of reality itself, or so scientists at the time claimed. Such a finding could put an end to the war just by its own merits. But the Blusnians were a backwards people and it was a well known fact that they would refuse to listen to reason. The Warp Corps were established. The very next day, roughly fifty thousand brave new Volunteers were reported MIA. Their sacrifice, however, was not in vain. Many of the Warp Corps squads had managed to make it to Blue York, the revolting Blusnian Capitol. One such squad had even made it into the Blusnian National House of Government, once a 'grand' house of opera.

President Obluma was famously made to sign a Declaration of Total Surrender, '''WITH A RED PEN'''. He had saved his own life, as well as much of his cabinet's, at the cost of his people's sovereignty. Redistani troops marched for Blusnia as the period of occupation was set to begin. The fighting continued as dissident Blusnian platoons refused life under the Redistani boot and disregarded their leader's orders to surrender. In Greensland, the war continually looked worse and worse for the Greenslanders, as the Blusnian support quickly left and the munitions shipments dried up. Spirits were high in Redistan and New Redistan alike, as the Great Enemy had finally been conquered.

A week and a half later, as the occupying forces got more and more out of control, looting from, destroying the homes of and murdering the Blusnians they had so long considered below them, a debate still fiercely raged throughout the halls of the Crimson Court, the seat of GREAT LEADER in THE CAPITAL. What was to be done with Blusnia? With former President Obluma in captivity, yet alive and a war that was thought to be impossible to win won, the nation's dreams had been achieved. It was a question that didn't need to be answered. No one is quite sure why it hadn't happened sooner, but that very day nuclear warhead equipped missiles erupted from their hiding places in the ground, destined for the now sprawling colonial cities of New Redistan. It is said the first Blusnian missile didn't even detonate, it simply crushed an orphanage. Retaliation was swift, but ultimately pointless. The occupying troops were told to find cover as Redistani warheads came hurtling towards them, but many refused, taking as many Blusnians with them as they could. Those whom could, retreated back underground, to the old country. For most, it was too late. For many, they didn't see the point of returning when they had spent their entire life above ground.

Although New Redistan was lost, the Blusnian menace could once and for all be considered extinct. This was christened the '''Great Triumph''', a momentous occasion signalling the end of Eternal War with Blusnia.

----

This brings us 41 years later, to the time of Reborn. GREAT LEADER lives, ruling Redistan righteously from THE CAPITAL in the western reaches of Redistan. Redistan still stands, but it finds itself in a state of turmoil. Without an external threat such as the Blusnians, a small minority of people find themselves questioning the harshness of GREAT LEADER's rule. These people are collectively known as Separatists. Most simply want to separate themselves from GREAT LEADER, form a Redistan of their own. Others, in the extreme minority, reject their Red identity entirely, pronouncing themselves to be the successors of the Blusnian state. Infighting is common amongst Separatists as they all have differing ideas on what they want to achieve. While small uprisings were common over the past four decades, it is only now that it has become problematic. A large scale uprising was attempted in Eastern Redistan two years ago and although it was extremely bloody for all sides involved, it ultimately failed. Last year, one of the Great Five Cities, Redlin, was reduced to rubble after months of fighting. Although it was thought the destruction in Redlin would have an adverse affect on many Redistani people, pre-existing conceptions about the city made most write it off as 'inevitable'. Regardless, the Separatist threat in Redistan is very much still alive and not to be underestimated.

== The Date ==

Redistani time is measured differently to Earth time. On Earth, time is measured by the position of the sun. Of course, being underground for centuries, the Redistanis have no sun to measure their time by. Blusnians measured their time in a different way which will not be described here.

Time in Redistan runs on a 2 hour 'shift' system. Citizens are expected to be awake for an hour and a half and be productive during this time. They have a half hour to sleep before the next shift begins. It is believed by sleeping in patterns like this that maximum human productivity can be achieved.
There are 10 shifts, in one day. This makes a day 20 hours long. A day is arbitrary to most citizens, it is simply a method of keeping track of time.
Similarly, there are 10 days (sometimes erroneously referred to as shifts) in a week. A week is 200 hours long.

In a year, there are 46 weeks. This number is of great patriotic meaning to the Redistani people. There are 9200 hours in a Redistani year.

This means there are 460 Redistani Days in a year. This is equivalent to 383 Real Life days. A real year is 8770 hours long.

This means that every 20 Redistani years is actually one real life year ahead.

A 20 year old Red is actually 21 in Earth years.

A 40 year old Red is actually 42 in Earth years.

A 60 year old Red is actually 63 in Earth years.

And so on.

'''THE FORMAT:'''

Date format is also unique from ours.

Redistani dates are formatted as following:

YYY/WW/DD(SS)

SS stands for shift. The shift parenthesis part of the date can typically be omitted, as it is not typically relevant.

Alternative formats include

DD(SS)/WW/YYY

and the ever awful

WW(SS)/YYY/DD

Year will usually be accompanied by a signifier of the period.

Currently, there are two. '''PGT''' and '''BBC'''.

PGT is standard time. The current year is 041PGT. Some may just write it as 041 or informally '41.

BBC stands for Before Blusnian Capitulation. It is counted backwards. The year 010BBC is ten years before the fall of Blusnia. It is not correct to write such a date as -010PGT, but some like to do it regardless.

It has been 87 Redistani years since the end of the '''[[Roles|Great War]]'''.

Recently introduced is a naming scheme for every 200 hour week to help Redistanis remember what week they're currently in and what it signifies.<br><br>
<small>
## Red
## Glory
## Imperial Red
## Cordovan
## Blood Red
## Patriot's
## GIGARED
## Hyperred
## THE CAPITAL red
## Light Red
## Dark Red
## Middle Red
## Cardinal Red
## Redlin
## New THE CAPITAL
## Red Brick
## Brick Red
## Megared
## Flag Red
## Redistani Red
## Sentry's Rest
## Red Two
## Rest
## GREAT LEADER
## GREAT LEADER Red
## Redwood
## Not Blue
## Carmine
## Poppy Red
## Red Three
## Soldier
## Salmon
## Fire Engine Red
## Madder
## Superred
## Red Four
## Remembrance
## Scarlet
## Tomato
## Light Red
## Cinnabar
## Garnet
## Red Five
## Victory
## Triumph
## Redistani
</small>

== The Truths ==
''Some factoids/terms to help you settle in.''

- '''GREAT LEADER''': Just as it is THE CAPITAL, not The Capitol or The Capital, his name is GREAT LEADER. It is not a title. It is a name.

- '''Don't Be A Blue''': Don't. They're all dead. You'll be too, if you try to imitate them.

- '''Cars don't exist''': Cars do not exist in Redistani society. The concept has been observed, as the Blusnians enjoyed them, but Redistani transport relies on rail, ocean and foot. If you're not getting around by train/tram/boat, you're walking.

- '''Real world religions do not exist''': Religions we are familiar with do not exist. The concept of religion outside of putting Red or The State on a pedestal does not exist in the Redistani citizen's mind. Worshipping a God does not happen because there are no historical religions. There are secular Saints, great figures that are cherished due to their contributions to The State, but they are not deified. Trench Jesus was a man of great achievement. Suggesting he was anything more than a great man is disrespecting him, his abilities and his achievements.

- '''Bureaucracy is a lifeline''': Without your paperwork, you do not exist. Hold it tightly.

- '''The Redcoat Army''': Also known as The Redcoats. The former standing army of Redistan during the Great Wars. Disbanded after the Great Triumph, after which all of Redistan's enemies were no longer.

- '''The Peace Corps''': The internal volunteer army of Redistan. Currently the largest branch of the military, serving as both a martial police force and loyalist infantry force against the Separatists. Members of the Peace Corps are known as Peacekeepers.

- '''The Separatists''': A term that loosely groups hundreds of individual schools of thought. Some believe the government isn't cruel enough. Others want independence to form a Red state of their own. Some are just plain insane. They all have one thing in common, though. They all eat babies.

- '''The Italians''': The Post-Italians are not foreigners. They are simply Redistan's only ethnic minority. Although many may consider them lesser, an Italian is still a million times better than a Blusnian, because an Italian is a Redistani all the same.

== The World ==
There are many regions in Redistan. As the Region you were born in is now selectable, it is a gameplay mechanic too. It can be worth coming up with a plausible backstory for your character, as you may be questioned on your home locale should you ever venture through the gate. The 'Great Five' cities were once THE CAPITAL, St. Redersburg, Redlin, Redbury and Redbourne. ''This is not an exhaustive list of the regions in Redistan, only the ones that appear in the character creator.''

'''THE CAPITAL''' - A sprawling, stacked mess of a city. Endless, heaped slums hug the coasts and ports of the city with some of them, such as the Spaghetto, becoming what is essentially a self contained city. Gargantuan elevators transport cargo and people to the upper levels, housing the hundreds of Ministries and other organisations keeping the necrotic bureaucratic heart of Redistan pumping. Society here is quite stratified, as various tiers of Nobility restrict the upper levels entirely to themselves. The majority of Redistan's nobility lives here, enjoying a life of joyful ignorance and endless entertainment. A particularly popular pass time here is show business. Nobles love their matinees. ''It would take an entire week to reach THE CAPITAL by boat from where Reborn takes place.''

'''Warmongrad''' - The quietest big city in Redistan, Warmongrad is seen as a giant retirement home more than anything else. This city is located close to THE CAPITAL and as such, has no slums. It evicts all its poor people to the Spaghetto. Most people from here are the children of nobles, grew up servicing them or were taken in as apprentices by bored retirees.

'''Greater Western Redistan''' - The region between THE CAPITAL and Redlin. It's a commoner's land, full of smaller port cities. The main exports here are white collar and mining work.

'''Redlin''' - Formerly the industrial heart of Redistan, located smack dab in the middle of the P. Sea. Always seen as a den of villainy and general crime. The Battle of Redlin, the bloodiest battle to occur on core Redistani soil, happened here over the course of 3 months in 039PGT, leaving the city in a mostly unusable state. Rather than rebuild it, it was decided that the city would be easily converted into the world's largest prison, perfect for incarcerating all the surrendering forces who miraculously survived the Battle of Redlin. All hail Lord Warden Chadwick Warmonger XIV, first of his name and heir to the Warmonger Rifle Company fortune.

'''Great Central Agricultural Sector''' - A sprawling brick of stacked hydroponic farms. The majority of Great Central City hosts little more than apartment complexes for hydroponic technicians.

'''Sir Redford Fungal Plains''' - Formerly a great fungal forest. Redistan's appetite for warm bungalow interiors exhausted the forests. Now the wood is harvested from the roots of gargantuan trees peaking through the cave roof. The least populated region in the nation.

'''Redbury''' - Known as the Party Capital of the planet and formally split into East and West Redbury for administrative purposes, this city enjoys a strangely warm microclimate and is host to the majority of Redistan's casinos. The hometown of famed gambler Mr. Redz, although mysteriously, he hasn't been seen there in months. Also home to the Colovian Canal, pathway to the North Redistani Sea and the fetid, sparsely populated Northern Tropics.

'''The Redbury Salt Flats''' - Geographically part of the Great Leone Desert. Bureaucratically separate. Dubbed The Boneyard by some, as debts are always settled out on the salt flats.

'''Great Leone Desert''' - An artifical sun of unknown design keeps the Great Leone in eternal sunset. Caveboys were just fantasy, until people began mimicking them. A turbulent region. Birth AND death place of the Higgins Brothers gang.

'''Greater Redbourne Area''' - Once of immense military and strategic value, many of the installations now lay dormant. Many real estate developers see these abandoned bunkers as perfect real estate, for whatever reason. The game is set in this region.

'''Redbourne''' - Known as the Great Red Jewel of the East, Redbourne is a shithole. Tensions are high here as people believe 'the next Battle of Redlin' is about to take place. Peacekeepers patrol the streets in higher numbers than ever and terrorism is on the rise as firebombs become a way of life. Although it is the closest city, it is still a two hour trip by boat from the Bunker, so don't expect any quick visits. With the second largest port and population in the nation, the Redbourne city motto is 'We're Here Too'.

'''New Redistan''' - The surface colonies of Redistan. Destroyed in the Great Triumph. Your character must be 40 or older to come from here. The sky was red. It was beautiful.

Redistani Life

2023-09-09T16:19:14Z

Spooky: /* Fresh Off The Boat */

== Fresh Off The Boat ==
[[File:Redistani victory.png|200px|thumb|REAL HISTORY, by Zion]]
If you're a new player, Reborn's setting can be somewhat daunting to get into. With a focus on allowing players to expand the world of Redistan, getting into the game now can be overwhelming as there is simply so much to learn.
You should always ask someone in game to educate you on something if you don't know, especially the wealthy and noble. They're well educated and often willing to share that knowledge. The tourists, especially.

However, you or others might feel it is somewhat 'immersion' breaking when you don't understand basic facts about the setting. As such, this page serves to introduce some of the commonly known truths of Redistan. This is not an exhaustive list, the only way to know everything is to go out and learn it yourself.

Of course, you can always just jump in and ignore this giant document. If you've got confidence, you'll make it out just fine. '''[[Reborn|Roles can be found here.]]'''

== The Primer ==

In the times before, in the year 063BBC, GREAT LEADER brought upon Redistan a glorious triumph. A society stuck entirely underground for all of recorded history, unable to face the shame of the blue sky above, finally triumphing over nature itself by blocking out the disgusting blue skies above with thick layers of ashen smoke. The very light in the air turned a glorious deep red under The Cloud's watchful gaze. The people of Redistan could finally marvel at the wonders of the surface without distress. This short period of the colonisation of New Redistan was quickly disturbed by the calls of war. Blusnia could not bare to see the very light itself turn red. All out war was waged over the surface. Conscripts were raised. The Redcoat and Bluecoat armies marched on one another, signalling the beginning of the Great War for the Surface, a 16 year period of devastating trench warfare that ended in a crushing defeat for Blusnia, with a 54% battle loss rate (46% win rate), in the fine year 047BBC. Attrition had taken its toll and Blusnia retreated back to its core territories, leaving the colonists of New Redistan to recuperate their losses from the war.

The Interwar period was long and fraught with conflict. Without full mobilisation, border conflicts were constant and unending. Neither side dared do more than probe the other, testing their weakness. Although the constant ash cloud enveloping New Redistan actively shredded the engines of any Blusnian bombers stupid enough to get close, the Blusnian shelling campaigns proved an unending source of stress for the colonists. Despite their constant adversity, the wonders of surface life were simply too many to give up. Real flour, real milk, real sunlight! It all seared their underground-accustomed eyes and skin in the most unimaginably perfect way possible. 44 years passed without major conflict. The death tolls climbed, the colonists lost much, but neither side would mobilise. The patch of uninhabitable land that was the New Redistani/Blusnian border, once a small gash of scar tissue in the land, barely wider than a billboard, had now grown to over 500 metres across. Forgotten soldiers, lost helmets, discarded landmines and failed bombs littered the lands between. The fields served as a museum, showcasing the slow but steady improvements both nations had made to their arsenals over the past four decades. Each side was no longer reliant on ancient surplus, but had instead constructed designs of their own. One contemporary soldier was now equivalent in firepower to ten Great War soldiers.

In 003BBC, Redistan, having now come close to depleting the forests of New Redistan, was sure to face a crisis. Without unending material to burn, The Cloud would surely break up! The horror of the blue sky above would reveal itself once more! With science being too slow to answer, there was only one choice. The disgusting emerald jungles of the filthy wine drinking, snail and cheese eating Greenslanders. The giant Greenslandian trees would be brought back and incinerated. The Redistanis had exploited the wood of the roots for so long. Now they could finally take the trunks. Whatever they couldn't take back, they would raze.

Greensland was rife with vibrant Green foliage, rich Blue skies and clear, deep azure water. It was something out of a horror book. From the Redcoats army, a sizeable division of patriots willing to endure the torture of the blue sky were sent to reclaim the jungle for Redistan. With captured Blusnian tilt-rotors, now finally usable when not in an airspace of pure ash, the loyal 5th & 4th Volunteer Redistani Patriot Divisions made their way onward to a self-assured victory, flanked by napalm dropping Redistani tilt-rotors, flying low enough to trim the hedges. Typically neutral to both, sharing a border with the New Redistanis had made the Greenslanders paranoid. Decades of preparation and training for an invasion by an overwhelming force, as well as begrudging proxy support from the Blusnian government in the form of trainers and munitions, made the Greensland war go from a patriotic stomp to a devastating crawl through thousands of miles of infested jungle, both bug and frog.

The Blusnians knew an opportunity when they saw one. With the most dedicated and loyal of Redistan's troops otherwise occupied, Mr. President O. Obluma realised the border forces could be ground down and the filthy Redistani colonists behind them could finally be put down. Pushing against the frigid North-Eastern New Redistani/Blusnian border, the full mobilisation of the Bluecoats signaled the start of the Cold Hot War. Committed to the defensive, the Redcoats forced hard to move from their posts for very long. Both sides spent the war exchanging the same pieces of land over and over until the border towns and bases they fought so desperately over were little more than fields of snowed in rubble, covered in tattered Red and Blue rags and paint. Three years into the conflict,--the war in Greensland still ongoing, however looking unfortunate for the Greenslanders--, the Redistanis discovered what,--were religion not illegal--, could only be described as a miracle. Redspace, the very fabric of reality itself, or so scientists at the time claimed. Such a finding could put an end to the war just by its own merits. But the Blusnians were a backwards people and it was a well known fact that they would refuse to listen to reason. The Warp Corps were established. The very next day, roughly fifty thousand brave new Volunteers were reported MIA. Their sacrifice, however, was not in vain. Many of the Warp Corps squads had managed to make it to Blue York, the revolting Blusnian Capitol. One such squad had even made it into the Blusnian National House of Government, once a 'grand' house of opera.

President Obluma was famously made to sign a Declaration of Total Surrender, '''WITH A RED PEN'''. He had saved his own life, as well as much of his cabinet's, at the cost of his people's sovereignty. Redistani troops marched for Blusnia as the period of occupation was set to begin. The fighting continued as dissident Blusnian platoons refused life under the Redistani boot and disregarded their leader's orders to surrender. In Greensland, the war continually looked worse and worse for the Greenslanders, as the Blusnian support quickly left and the munitions shipments dried up. Spirits were high in Redistan and New Redistan alike, as the Great Enemy had finally been conquered.

A week and a half later, as the occupying forces got more and more out of control, looting from, destroying the homes of and murdering the Blusnians they had so long considered below them, a debate still fiercely raged throughout the halls of the Crimson Court, the seat of GREAT LEADER in THE CAPITAL. What was to be done with Blusnia? With former President Obluma in captivity, yet alive and a war that was thought to be impossible to win won, the nation's dreams had been achieved. It was a question that didn't need to be answered. No one is quite sure why it hadn't happened sooner, but that very day nuclear warhead equipped missiles erupted from their hiding places in the ground, destined for the now sprawling colonial cities of New Redistan. It is said the first Blusnian missile didn't even detonate, it simply crushed an orphanage. Retaliation was swift, but ultimately pointless. The occupying troops were told to find cover as Redistani warheads came hurtling towards them, but many refused, taking as many Blusnians with them as they could. Those whom could, retreated back underground, to the old country. For most, it was too late. For many, they didn't see the point of returning when they had spent their entire life above ground.

Although New Redistan was lost, the Blusnian menace could once and for all be considered extinct. This was christened the '''Great Triumph''', a momentous occasion signalling the end of Eternal War with Blusnia.

----

This brings us 41 years later, to the time of Reborn. GREAT LEADER lives, ruling Redistan righteously from THE CAPITAL in the western reaches of Redistan. Redistan still stands, but it finds itself in a state of turmoil. Without an external threat such as the Blusnians, a small minority of people find themselves questioning the harshness of GREAT LEADER's rule. These people are collectively known as Separatists. Most simply want to separate themselves from GREAT LEADER, form a Redistan of their own. Others, in the extreme minority, reject their Red identity entirely, pronouncing themselves to be the successors of the Blusnian state. Infighting is common amongst Separatists as they all have differing ideas on what they want to achieve. While small uprisings were common over the past four decades, it is only now that it has become problematic. A large scale uprising was attempted in Eastern Redistan two years ago and although it was extremely bloody for all sides involved, it ultimately failed. Last year, one of the Great Five Cities, Redlin, was reduced to rubble after months of fighting. Although it was thought the destruction in Redlin would have an adverse affect on many Redistani people, pre-existing conceptions about the city made most write it off as 'inevitable'. Regardless, the Separatist threat in Redistan is very much still alive and not to be underestimated.

== The Date ==

Redistani time is measured differently to Earth time. On Earth, time is measured by the position of the sun. Of course, being underground for centuries, the Redistanis have no sun to measure their time by. Blusnians measured their time in a different way which will not be described here.

Time in Redistan runs on a 2 hour 'shift' system. Citizens are expected to be awake for an hour and a half and be productive during this time. They have a half hour to sleep before the next shift begins. It is believed by sleeping in patterns like this that maximum human productivity can be achieved.
There are 10 shifts, in one day. This makes a day 20 hours long. A day is arbitrary to most citizens, it is simply a method of keeping track of time.
Similarly, there are 10 days (sometimes erroneously referred to as shifts) in a week. A week is 200 hours long.

In a year, there are 46 weeks. This number is of great patriotic meaning to the Redistani people. There are 9200 hours in a Redistani year.

This means there are 460 Redistani Days in a year. This is equivalent to 383 Real Life days. A real year is 8770 hours long.

This means that every 20 Redistani years is actually one real life year ahead.

A 20 year old Red is actually 21 in Earth years.

A 40 year old Red is actually 42 in Earth years.

A 60 year old Red is actually 63 in Earth years.

And so on.

'''THE FORMAT:'''

Date format is also unique from ours.

Redistani dates are formatted as following:

YYY/WW/DD(SS)

SS stands for shift. The shift parenthesis part of the date can typically be omitted, as it is not typically relevant.

Alternative formats include

DD(SS)/WW/YYY

and the ever awful

WW(SS)/YYY/DD

Year will usually be accompanied by a signifier of the period.

Currently, there are two. '''PGT''' and '''BBC'''.

PGT is standard time. The current year is 041PGT. Some may just write it as 041 or informally '41.

BBC stands for Before Blusnian Capitulation. It is counted backwards. The year 010BBC is ten years before the fall of Blusnia. It is not correct to write such a date as -010PGT, but some like to do it regardless.

It has been 87 Redistani years since the end of the [[Roles|Great War]].

Recently introduced is a naming scheme for every 200 hour week to help Redistanis remember what week they're currently in and what it signifies.<br><br>
<small>
## Red
## Glory
## Imperial Red
## Cordovan
## Blood Red
## Patriot's
## GIGARED
## Hyperred
## THE CAPITAL red
## Light Red
## Dark Red
## Middle Red
## Cardinal Red
## Redlin
## New THE CAPITAL
## Red Brick
## Brick Red
## Megared
## Flag Red
## Redistani Red
## Sentry's Rest
## Red Two
## Rest
## GREAT LEADER
## GREAT LEADER Red
## Redwood
## Not Blue
## Carmine
## Poppy Red
## Red Three
## Soldier
## Salmon
## Fire Engine Red
## Madder
## Superred
## Red Four
## Remembrance
## Scarlet
## Tomato
## Light Red
## Cinnabar
## Garnet
## Red Five
## Victory
## Triumph
## Redistani
</small>

== The Truths ==
''Some factoids/terms to help you settle in.''

- '''GREAT LEADER''': Just as it is THE CAPITAL, not The Capitol or The Capital, his name is GREAT LEADER. It is not a title. It is a name.

- '''Don't Be A Blue''': Don't. They're all dead. You'll be too, if you try to imitate them.

- '''Cars don't exist''': Cars do not exist in Redistani society. The concept has been observed, as the Blusnians enjoyed them, but Redistani transport relies on rail, ocean and foot. If you're not getting around by train/tram/boat, you're walking.

- '''Real world religions do not exist''': Religions we are familiar with do not exist. The concept of religion outside of putting Red or The State on a pedestal does not exist in the Redistani citizen's mind. Worshipping a God does not happen because there are no historical religions. There are secular Saints, great figures that are cherished due to their contributions to The State, but they are not deified. Trench Jesus was a man of great achievement. Suggesting he was anything more than a great man is disrespecting him, his abilities and his achievements.

- '''Bureaucracy is a lifeline''': Without your paperwork, you do not exist. Hold it tightly.

- '''The Redcoat Army''': Also known as The Redcoats. The former standing army of Redistan during the Great Wars. Disbanded after the Great Triumph, after which all of Redistan's enemies were no longer.

- '''The Peace Corps''': The internal volunteer army of Redistan. Currently the largest branch of the military, serving as both a martial police force and loyalist infantry force against the Separatists. Members of the Peace Corps are known as Peacekeepers.

- '''The Separatists''': A term that loosely groups hundreds of individual schools of thought. Some believe the government isn't cruel enough. Others want independence to form a Red state of their own. Some are just plain insane. They all have one thing in common, though. They all eat babies.

- '''The Italians''': The Post-Italians are not foreigners. They are simply Redistan's only ethnic minority. Although many may consider them lesser, an Italian is still a million times better than a Blusnian, because an Italian is a Redistani all the same.

== The World ==
There are many regions in Redistan. As the Region you were born in is now selectable, it is a gameplay mechanic too. It can be worth coming up with a plausible backstory for your character, as you may be questioned on your home locale should you ever venture through the gate. The 'Great Five' cities were once THE CAPITAL, St. Redersburg, Redlin, Redbury and Redbourne. ''This is not an exhaustive list of the regions in Redistan, only the ones that appear in the character creator.''

'''THE CAPITAL''' - A sprawling, stacked mess of a city. Endless, heaped slums hug the coasts and ports of the city with some of them, such as the Spaghetto, becoming what is essentially a self contained city. Gargantuan elevators transport cargo and people to the upper levels, housing the hundreds of Ministries and other organisations keeping the necrotic bureaucratic heart of Redistan pumping. Society here is quite stratified, as various tiers of Nobility restrict the upper levels entirely to themselves. The majority of Redistan's nobility lives here, enjoying a life of joyful ignorance and endless entertainment. A particularly popular pass time here is show business. Nobles love their matinees. ''It would take an entire week to reach THE CAPITAL by boat from where Reborn takes place.''

'''Warmongrad''' - The quietest big city in Redistan, Warmongrad is seen as a giant retirement home more than anything else. This city is located close to THE CAPITAL and as such, has no slums. It evicts all its poor people to the Spaghetto. Most people from here are the children of nobles, grew up servicing them or were taken in as apprentices by bored retirees.

'''Greater Western Redistan''' - The region between THE CAPITAL and Redlin. It's a commoner's land, full of smaller port cities. The main exports here are white collar and mining work.

'''Redlin''' - Formerly the industrial heart of Redistan, located smack dab in the middle of the P. Sea. Always seen as a den of villainy and general crime. The Battle of Redlin, the bloodiest battle to occur on core Redistani soil, happened here over the course of 3 months in 039PGT, leaving the city in a mostly unusable state. Rather than rebuild it, it was decided that the city would be easily converted into the world's largest prison, perfect for incarcerating all the surrendering forces who miraculously survived the Battle of Redlin. All hail Lord Warden Chadwick Warmonger XIV, first of his name and heir to the Warmonger Rifle Company fortune.

'''Great Central Agricultural Sector''' - A sprawling brick of stacked hydroponic farms. The majority of Great Central City hosts little more than apartment complexes for hydroponic technicians.

'''Sir Redford Fungal Plains''' - Formerly a great fungal forest. Redistan's appetite for warm bungalow interiors exhausted the forests. Now the wood is harvested from the roots of gargantuan trees peaking through the cave roof. The least populated region in the nation.

'''Redbury''' - Known as the Party Capital of the planet and formally split into East and West Redbury for administrative purposes, this city enjoys a strangely warm microclimate and is host to the majority of Redistan's casinos. The hometown of famed gambler Mr. Redz, although mysteriously, he hasn't been seen there in months. Also home to the Colovian Canal, pathway to the North Redistani Sea and the fetid, sparsely populated Northern Tropics.

'''The Redbury Salt Flats''' - Geographically part of the Great Leone Desert. Bureaucratically separate. Dubbed The Boneyard by some, as debts are always settled out on the salt flats.

'''Great Leone Desert''' - An artifical sun of unknown design keeps the Great Leone in eternal sunset. Caveboys were just fantasy, until people began mimicking them. A turbulent region. Birth AND death place of the Higgins Brothers gang.

'''Greater Redbourne Area''' - Once of immense military and strategic value, many of the installations now lay dormant. Many real estate developers see these abandoned bunkers as perfect real estate, for whatever reason. The game is set in this region.

'''Redbourne''' - Known as the Great Red Jewel of the East, Redbourne is a shithole. Tensions are high here as people believe 'the next Battle of Redlin' is about to take place. Peacekeepers patrol the streets in higher numbers than ever and terrorism is on the rise as firebombs become a way of life. Although it is the closest city, it is still a two hour trip by boat from the Bunker, so don't expect any quick visits. With the second largest port and population in the nation, the Redbourne city motto is 'We're Here Too'.

'''New Redistan''' - The surface colonies of Redistan. Destroyed in the Great Triumph. Your character must be 40 or older to come from here. The sky was red. It was beautiful.

Reborn

2023-09-09T16:17:06Z

Spooky: /* Redistan, my Beloved */

[[File:reborn_hallway.jpg|600px|thumb|A Peacekeeper on Patrol, by Zion]]
==Redistan, my Beloved==
Interstation 12: Reborn is the roleplay focused IS12 codebase, with a noir black comedy atmosphere. Set in a Redistani bunker decades after the 'eternal' Redistani-Blusnian war ended, Reborn focuses more on player agency to develop the world and characterization rather than strictly sticking to 50000 word lore articles. That being said, thanks to the two years of development, it can make it a little daunting to jump in as a new player. '''[[Redistani Life|Click here for a comprehensive document detailing what you should already know as a proud Redistani.]]
'''

==Proud Redistanis==

{| style="width: 80%; ax-width: 120em; border-spacing: 2em; clear: both"
|
{| style="width:100%;margin:0; color: #ffffff; background: #bbb; border: 2px solid #634B4F; text-align: center;"
|-
| style="width: 10%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Role'''
| style="width: 5%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Slots'''
| style="width: 50%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Description'''
| style="width: 40%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Notes'''
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #bbb; border:3px solid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungudant.png]] '''The Nobility''' - Pompous assholes, living in fantasy land. Expect them to blame you when reality comes knocking.
|-
| [[File:commandant.png]]<h3>'''Commandant'''</h3>
| 1
| Obsessed with old world militaria, the Commandant of Portzee demands nothing more than respect and for the masses to finance his lifestyle. It might not be a real title, but you'd do wise not to bring that up to him.
| As Commandant, your underlings will manage most tasks for you. Adjust the tax rate as you see fit, make pointless announcements and perform corrections where needed, otherwise your time is yours to <s>torture</s> enlighten your subjects.
|-
| [[File:consort.png]]<h3>'''Consort'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the Commandant's dear partner. Throw your nobility around, you've earned it.
| You have as much authority as the Commandant, given you're not going against them. Commoners might not like to listen to you, getting a Peacekeeper's truncheon to the face is a quick fix.
|-
| [[File:scion.png]]<h3>'''Scion'''</h3>
| 2
| You're one of the Commandant and Consort's pride and joy. You're a spoiled brat with far too much power, although you're a weak child with little ability to exercise it.
| Try to abuse your parents goodwill to get what you want. They have plenty to share.
|-
| [[File:servant.png]]<h3>'''Servant'''</h3>
| 1
| More of a pet than a noble, you're a prisoner shipped in from THE CAPITAL, given another chance at freedom through unending indentured servitude! The Commandant's palace is filthy and their children are very hungry. Best get to work soon.
| A good servant is one who is seen as little as possible. Try to assume what your Commandant wants and have it done before they have time to ask for it.
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:avodant.png]] '''The Gatewatch''' - Good morning inspector. Refuse all Italians entry. Glory to Redistan.
|-
| [[File:advo.png]]<h3>'''Advocatus'''</H3>
| 1
| A Bureaucrat from back West, sent to this backwater to assure it doesn't become a den of separatists, occasionally reporting back to senior Advocatii in THE CAPITAL. The Redistani Civil War makes mistakes unacceptable. Do not be afraid to be cruel. Glory to Redistan.
| You have the same amount of authority as the Commandant, although only within the confines of the gate and your men. Do not be afraid to challenge his orders if they are unreasonable, and make your men hold steadfast.
|-
| [[File:boothstatue.png]]<h3>'''Inspector'''</h3>
| 1
| Giddy volunteers to the A.A.M., encouraged to keep their full attention through the retroactive punishment of their family. Some inspectors are in it for the Patriotism of keeping their country safe from those disgusting Separatists. Others just like to see the look on a child's face as they bar them from getting medical attention inside the bunker. Glory to Redistan.
| Your Advocatus is likely unhappy over their assignment to such a small settlement. Corruption is widespread this far East for a reason. Use that to your advantage.
|-
| [[File:borderguard.png]]<h3>'''Watchdog'''</h3>
| 2
| A grunt of the Gatewatch. Although you may often be made to keep in shape with drills or mop up the floors around the checkpoint, you have plenty of downtime too. If only you got a comfy chair to sit in as well...
| Abandoning your post is liable to get you discharged. Be sure to remind the line with the megaphones what restrictions are in place.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:pkudant.png]] '''The Peacekeepers''' - KEEP THE PEACE, DAMNIT!!!
|-
| [[File:headguard.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Head Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 1
| A sergeant, with a small squad of disorganised but (usually) loyal troops at your disposal. Coordinate your Cadets and Peacekeepers well. Your equipment may be outdated, but it is plentiful. A weak sargeant makes for a weak squad.
| Your only goal is to KEEP THE PEACE. Your Peacekeepers shouldn't be starting fights in the slums. Don't be afraid to discipline them when they do something stupid.
|-
| [[File:pkguard.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 4
| You might be schlubby, you might be unfit, but you're here and that's all that really counts. Your main jobs are going to be pest control and abusing what little power you have. You can always make up any charge you like, it's not like whoever you're accusing has a book of laws. Maybe if you suck up enough, the Head Peacekeeper will bother with outfitting you with some nicer gear or perhaps you'll even get that promotion you've been pining for. Make sure to follow his words to a T.
| Be glad you're not back West, fighting Separatists on the front lines.
|-
| [[File:cadet.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Cadet]]</h3>
| 1
| Merely a child, your tendency to bully others and throw your weight around made you a prime pick for the Peace Corps. You might not be on the front lines, but you're sure to make your country and parents proud.
| While you're more proficient with weapons than most children, you are still rather weak. You make for a strong scout, as well as a keen accompaniment to adult peacekeepers. They're sure to teach you well if you ask.
|-
| [[File:scab.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Scab]]</h3>
| 2
| You've copped slum duty after fucking up bad and now you have to maintain order in what you're pretty sure is a literal cess pit. Make sure Mr. Redz is happy with the security of his factory, he's sure to hand you a little bonus if you do a good job.
| Power in numbers. Just having your partner nearby is likely to scare most opportunists off.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungtitioner.png]] '''The Practitioners''' - Let's go practice medicine.
|-
| [[File:hprac.png]]<h3>'''Head Practitioner'''</h3>
| 1
| The head honcho. You have the longest beak, so you are in charge. You might not have ever actually seen a bird, but you know how to lead your flock to glory. Remember, if the power goes out, it's not just the Undertaker they're going to blame.
| Always assume your underlings are incompetent. Demonstrate to them the art of practicing medicine.
|-
|-
| [[File:prac.png]]<h3>'''Practitioner'''</h3>
| 3
| One of the Head Practitioner's flock. Your beak size may vary, but it'll never be bigger than the Head's. You're so dedicated to the art of practicing medicine that you voluntarily had your garments stitched into your skin. Best take a shower before heading out of the clinic.
| Absolutely no beakfighting allowed in the clinic. Try to remember your [[Guide to Medicine|schooling]].
|-
| [[File:apprentice.png]]<h3>'''Apprentice'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young apprentice to the Birdmen, freshly sent from one of the western Academies. Yet to get a worthy beak of your own, it's up to you to prove yourself and truly take in the words of your superiors. You'll get that beak yet, sonny.
| Schooling is all well and good, but it doesn't compare to practical experience. Do not be afraid to ask your superiors for help.
|-
| [[File:chemist.png]]<h3>'''[[Chemist]]'''</h3>
| 1
| You're a contractor under the Birdmen, not as dedicated to medicine as they are. Too bad they stitched the clothing into your skin anyway. At least you'll be left alone most of the time.
| Chemists are most useful when they spend time making premixed chemical combinations or ship chemicals off to the C.C.M. for profit.
|-
| [[File:undertaker.png]]<h3>'''Undertaker'''</h3>
| 1
| Secretly the most important person in the entire clinic. You love to hang around corpses, so you got the wonderous duty of hacking up bodies and feeding their limbs to The Beast. There is sure to be no shortage of dead people in the bunker.
| Undertakers are very versatile. Who's to say that person wasn't already dead when you caved their skull in?
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungissary.png]] '''The Customary and Commercenary Ministry''' - Turn a profit, damn the expense!
|-
| [[File:commissary.png]]<h3>'''Commissariat'''</h3>
| 1
| The economic heart of the bunker, supposedly. You know what things are worth. Never pay full value, you have to turn a profit as well.
| Your men are loyal, as long as you pay them well. As long as there's a profit to be made, ANYTHING is justifiable to the C.C.M..
|-
| [[File:cpusher.png]]<h3>'''Crate Pusher'''</h3>
| 3
| You push crates. You also break legs and kidnap people, if the Commissariat needs it done.
| Work hard. Set goals. Invest. C.C.M. mindset.
|-
| [[File:ckid.png]]<h3>'''Cargo Kid'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young entrepreneur, starting that grind early. Your older colleagues are sure to have some tips for you.
| A great learning role with very little responsibility.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:redzgus.png]] '''The Factory''' - No union? No worries!
|-
| [[File:mrredz.png]]<h3>'''Mr. Redz'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the fattest fuck in all of the bunker. You won ownership of a factory here in a backroom game and it's turning you a tidy profit. Your Foreman will typically have the factory under control, so feel free to go commiserate with your fellow fatass nobles. Always have food at hand. It's always time for a Cheeseburger.
| NO ONE FUCKS WITH MR. REDZ.
|-
| [[File:foreman.png]]<h3>'''Foreman'''</h3>
| 1
| You're Mr. Redz's trusted assistant. Do whatever he asks of you. This will typically be yelling at his workers to work harder.
| Mr. Redz has a lot of money and you work oh so hard for him. Perhaps a bonus is in order?
|-
| [[File:factory.png]]<h3>'''Factory Worker'''</h3>
| 6
| You're true working class, real brown collar shit. Whittle down the hours until the whistle blows so you can get off shift and blow your meagre paycheck at the Italian's place on cigarettes and pasto.
| Keep a steady pace. Work too fast, you never know what might happen.
|-
| [[File:kidfactory.png]]<h3>'''Child Worker'''</h3>
| 2
| Workers are getting harder to come by in Redistan as more and more people are sent to the front during the Civil War. Thank GREAT LEADER child labour is encouraged for proper childhood development.
| Don't be afraid to ask for help. No one expects anything of you, you're a child!
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungchef.png]] '''The Civillians''' - What, no food?
|-
| [[File:cook.png]]<h3>'''Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| Not quite experienced enough to be a proper chef, you at least know enough to run your own hash house. Cook whatever you like, just don't get too Italian with it, it doesn't mix well with the local palate. Don't give your child tap water.
| Food service has very thin margins. Mark up everything you can. The vending machines are far too expensive to be worth it.
|-
| [[File:asscook.png]]<h3>'''Assistant Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the cook's apprentice. You're not going to do much cooking, but he should be able to teach you the art of crying in the walk-in between orders.
| Cooking is best for visual learners. Pay attention to what the cook does if you want to learn.
|-
| [[File:janitor.png]]<h3>'''Janitor'''</h3>
| 3
| Sweep it up, janny. The bunker is filthy and you control the mops. A clean bunker is an orderly one.
| You have good justification for getting into other people's workplaces. Try not to have sticky fingers.
|-
|-
| [[File:mullen.png]]<h3>'''Mullen'''</h3>
| 1
| A private dick. This bunker is a festering pit of darkness and hyper realistic blood, angels weeping, dead inside, fucked up shit and thick skin. You get the idea. Try to offer your services, there's sure to be someone who has a case.
| When a bum sees a dick coming, he don't stick around.
|-
| [[File:barber.png]]<h3>'''Barber'''</h3>
| 1
| Hair always grows. People always need haircuts. That's your specialty.
| This is a wildcard role. Make sure to take length into account. Haircuts only go one way.
|-
| [[File:tailor.png]]<h3>'''Haberdasher'''</h3>
| 1
| You never could stand the atmosphere in the big city department stores. It might be a shithole, but there's enough money here to make a decent living making high-end clothing.
| This is a wildcard role. You can adjust people's suits and uniforms to fit them, as well as make new pieces of clothing on your sewing machine.
|-
| [[File:bottega.png]]<h3>'''Proprietor'''</h3>
| 1
| You bring some of that Spaghetto 'charm' to the bunker, running a Post-Italian Bottega, a general corner store selling a little bit of everything.
| You've got a price gun. It's convenient to label things ahead of time. Don't be afraid to mark up, convenience is worth a lot.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungiminal.png]] '''The Underbelly''' - Woah mama mia cunt
|-
| [[File:caporegime.png]]<h3>'''Caporegime'''</h3>
| 1
| The head of the local branch of Post-Italian troublemakers. You're here representing your Godfather back West in the Spaghetto. There's a multitude of ways to get things done down here, it's just a matter of picking which one.
| Pure violence is typically a poor choice for the mafia. Try to keep your exploits well thought out and executed. Do not play this role if you're bad at leading people.
|-
| [[File:associate.png]]<h3>'''Associate'''</h3>
| 4
| Your standard Post-Italian grunt. Follow your Caporegime's orders, it's not like you have anywhere else to go. Post-Italians are naturally intimidating. Their patterns of speech strike fear into even the most stalwart Carnifexes.
| This is a Wildcard role. Talking will quickly give you away, but you can blend in fairly well if you keep quiet.
|-
| [[File:bocco.png]]<h3>'''Bocconcino'''</h3>
| 1
| The Mafia's very own orphan to boss around. Although you're not Italian, they've accepted you as one of their own.
| You're not Italian, yet. People are far less suspicious of you.
|-
| [[File:stabb.png]]<h3>'''Stabb Alley Gang'''</h3>
| 3 + Leader
| You inhabit the wretched Stabb Alley, named after C. Stabb, inventor of the dual-tipped knife. The Italians are too high brow for you and your buddies. You prefer the simple stickup to the shakedown.
| The leader is not a wildcard. The grunts are. Power in numbers, make sure you stick together. One ganger isn't a threat. Three is.
|-
| [[File:quack.png]]<h3>'''Quack'''</h3>
| 1
| Kicked out of the Practitioner's League for reasons that were NOT YOUR FAULT, you service the slums. There's a good living in being a mafia doctor.
| This is hardcore Practitioner. You will struggle for supplies. Practitioners who think they can come on your turf need to be taught a lesson.
|-
| [[File:scrungus.png]]<h3>'''Wildcard'''</h3>
| >20
| A pool of special roles that you can't play by other means, ranging from noble tourists, lonesome Caveboy drifters and mercenaries to more in depth roles like barbers and haberdasherers. Most wildcard roles are not listed on this page.
| Follow your instincts and you will do well.
|-
|}
|}

Reborn

2023-09-09T15:11:16Z

Spooky:

[[File:reborn_hallway.jpg|600px|thumb|A Peacekeeper on Patrol, by Zion]]
==Redistan, my Beloved==
Interstation 12: Reborn is the roleplay focused IS12 codebase, with a noir black comedy atmosphere. Set in a Redistani bunker decades after the 'eternal' Redistani-Blusnian war ended, Reborn focuses more on player agency to develop the world and characterization rather than strictly sticking to 50000 word lore articles. That being said, thanks to the two years of development, it can make it a little daunting to jump in as a new player. [[Redistani Life|Click here for a comprehensive document detailing what you should already know as a proud Redistani.]]

==Proud Redistanis==

{| style="width: 80%; ax-width: 120em; border-spacing: 2em; clear: both"
|
{| style="width:100%;margin:0; color: #ffffff; background: #bbb; border: 2px solid #634B4F; text-align: center;"
|-
| style="width: 10%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Role'''
| style="width: 5%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Slots'''
| style="width: 50%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Description'''
| style="width: 40%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Notes'''
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #bbb; border:3px solid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungudant.png]] '''The Nobility''' - Pompous assholes, living in fantasy land. Expect them to blame you when reality comes knocking.
|-
| [[File:commandant.png]]<h3>'''Commandant'''</h3>
| 1
| Obsessed with old world militaria, the Commandant of Portzee demands nothing more than respect and for the masses to finance his lifestyle. It might not be a real title, but you'd do wise not to bring that up to him.
| As Commandant, your underlings will manage most tasks for you. Adjust the tax rate as you see fit, make pointless announcements and perform corrections where needed, otherwise your time is yours to <s>torture</s> enlighten your subjects.
|-
| [[File:consort.png]]<h3>'''Consort'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the Commandant's dear partner. Throw your nobility around, you've earned it.
| You have as much authority as the Commandant, given you're not going against them. Commoners might not like to listen to you, getting a Peacekeeper's truncheon to the face is a quick fix.
|-
| [[File:scion.png]]<h3>'''Scion'''</h3>
| 2
| You're one of the Commandant and Consort's pride and joy. You're a spoiled brat with far too much power, although you're a weak child with little ability to exercise it.
| Try to abuse your parents goodwill to get what you want. They have plenty to share.
|-
| [[File:servant.png]]<h3>'''Servant'''</h3>
| 1
| More of a pet than a noble, you're a prisoner shipped in from THE CAPITAL, given another chance at freedom through unending indentured servitude! The Commandant's palace is filthy and their children are very hungry. Best get to work soon.
| A good servant is one who is seen as little as possible. Try to assume what your Commandant wants and have it done before they have time to ask for it.
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:avodant.png]] '''The Gatewatch''' - Good morning inspector. Refuse all Italians entry. Glory to Redistan.
|-
| [[File:advo.png]]<h3>'''Advocatus'''</H3>
| 1
| A Bureaucrat from back West, sent to this backwater to assure it doesn't become a den of separatists, occasionally reporting back to senior Advocatii in THE CAPITAL. The Redistani Civil War makes mistakes unacceptable. Do not be afraid to be cruel. Glory to Redistan.
| You have the same amount of authority as the Commandant, although only within the confines of the gate and your men. Do not be afraid to challenge his orders if they are unreasonable, and make your men hold steadfast.
|-
| [[File:boothstatue.png]]<h3>'''Inspector'''</h3>
| 1
| Giddy volunteers to the A.A.M., encouraged to keep their full attention through the retroactive punishment of their family. Some inspectors are in it for the Patriotism of keeping their country safe from those disgusting Separatists. Others just like to see the look on a child's face as they bar them from getting medical attention inside the bunker. Glory to Redistan.
| Your Advocatus is likely unhappy over their assignment to such a small settlement. Corruption is widespread this far East for a reason. Use that to your advantage.
|-
| [[File:borderguard.png]]<h3>'''Watchdog'''</h3>
| 2
| A grunt of the Gatewatch. Although you may often be made to keep in shape with drills or mop up the floors around the checkpoint, you have plenty of downtime too. If only you got a comfy chair to sit in as well...
| Abandoning your post is liable to get you discharged. Be sure to remind the line with the megaphones what restrictions are in place.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:pkudant.png]] '''The Peacekeepers''' - KEEP THE PEACE, DAMNIT!!!
|-
| [[File:headguard.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Head Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 1
| A sergeant, with a small squad of disorganised but (usually) loyal troops at your disposal. Coordinate your Cadets and Peacekeepers well. Your equipment may be outdated, but it is plentiful. A weak sargeant makes for a weak squad.
| Your only goal is to KEEP THE PEACE. Your Peacekeepers shouldn't be starting fights in the slums. Don't be afraid to discipline them when they do something stupid.
|-
| [[File:pkguard.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 4
| You might be schlubby, you might be unfit, but you're here and that's all that really counts. Your main jobs are going to be pest control and abusing what little power you have. You can always make up any charge you like, it's not like whoever you're accusing has a book of laws. Maybe if you suck up enough, the Head Peacekeeper will bother with outfitting you with some nicer gear or perhaps you'll even get that promotion you've been pining for. Make sure to follow his words to a T.
| Be glad you're not back West, fighting Separatists on the front lines.
|-
| [[File:cadet.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Cadet]]</h3>
| 1
| Merely a child, your tendency to bully others and throw your weight around made you a prime pick for the Peace Corps. You might not be on the front lines, but you're sure to make your country and parents proud.
| While you're more proficient with weapons than most children, you are still rather weak. You make for a strong scout, as well as a keen accompaniment to adult peacekeepers. They're sure to teach you well if you ask.
|-
| [[File:scab.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Scab]]</h3>
| 2
| You've copped slum duty after fucking up bad and now you have to maintain order in what you're pretty sure is a literal cess pit. Make sure Mr. Redz is happy with the security of his factory, he's sure to hand you a little bonus if you do a good job.
| Power in numbers. Just having your partner nearby is likely to scare most opportunists off.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungtitioner.png]] '''The Practitioners''' - Let's go practice medicine.
|-
| [[File:hprac.png]]<h3>'''Head Practitioner'''</h3>
| 1
| The head honcho. You have the longest beak, so you are in charge. You might not have ever actually seen a bird, but you know how to lead your flock to glory. Remember, if the power goes out, it's not just the Undertaker they're going to blame.
| Always assume your underlings are incompetent. Demonstrate to them the art of practicing medicine.
|-
|-
| [[File:prac.png]]<h3>'''Practitioner'''</h3>
| 3
| One of the Head Practitioner's flock. Your beak size may vary, but it'll never be bigger than the Head's. You're so dedicated to the art of practicing medicine that you voluntarily had your garments stitched into your skin. Best take a shower before heading out of the clinic.
| Absolutely no beakfighting allowed in the clinic. Try to remember your [[Guide to Medicine|schooling]].
|-
| [[File:apprentice.png]]<h3>'''Apprentice'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young apprentice to the Birdmen, freshly sent from one of the western Academies. Yet to get a worthy beak of your own, it's up to you to prove yourself and truly take in the words of your superiors. You'll get that beak yet, sonny.
| Schooling is all well and good, but it doesn't compare to practical experience. Do not be afraid to ask your superiors for help.
|-
| [[File:chemist.png]]<h3>'''[[Chemist]]'''</h3>
| 1
| You're a contractor under the Birdmen, not as dedicated to medicine as they are. Too bad they stitched the clothing into your skin anyway. At least you'll be left alone most of the time.
| Chemists are most useful when they spend time making premixed chemical combinations or ship chemicals off to the C.C.M. for profit.
|-
| [[File:undertaker.png]]<h3>'''Undertaker'''</h3>
| 1
| Secretly the most important person in the entire clinic. You love to hang around corpses, so you got the wonderous duty of hacking up bodies and feeding their limbs to The Beast. There is sure to be no shortage of dead people in the bunker.
| Undertakers are very versatile. Who's to say that person wasn't already dead when you caved their skull in?
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungissary.png]] '''The Customary and Commercenary Ministry''' - Turn a profit, damn the expense!
|-
| [[File:commissary.png]]<h3>'''Commissariat'''</h3>
| 1
| The economic heart of the bunker, supposedly. You know what things are worth. Never pay full value, you have to turn a profit as well.
| Your men are loyal, as long as you pay them well. As long as there's a profit to be made, ANYTHING is justifiable to the C.C.M..
|-
| [[File:cpusher.png]]<h3>'''Crate Pusher'''</h3>
| 3
| You push crates. You also break legs and kidnap people, if the Commissariat needs it done.
| Work hard. Set goals. Invest. C.C.M. mindset.
|-
| [[File:ckid.png]]<h3>'''Cargo Kid'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young entrepreneur, starting that grind early. Your older colleagues are sure to have some tips for you.
| A great learning role with very little responsibility.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:redzgus.png]] '''The Factory''' - No union? No worries!
|-
| [[File:mrredz.png]]<h3>'''Mr. Redz'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the fattest fuck in all of the bunker. You won ownership of a factory here in a backroom game and it's turning you a tidy profit. Your Foreman will typically have the factory under control, so feel free to go commiserate with your fellow fatass nobles. Always have food at hand. It's always time for a Cheeseburger.
| NO ONE FUCKS WITH MR. REDZ.
|-
| [[File:foreman.png]]<h3>'''Foreman'''</h3>
| 1
| You're Mr. Redz's trusted assistant. Do whatever he asks of you. This will typically be yelling at his workers to work harder.
| Mr. Redz has a lot of money and you work oh so hard for him. Perhaps a bonus is in order?
|-
| [[File:factory.png]]<h3>'''Factory Worker'''</h3>
| 6
| You're true working class, real brown collar shit. Whittle down the hours until the whistle blows so you can get off shift and blow your meagre paycheck at the Italian's place on cigarettes and pasto.
| Keep a steady pace. Work too fast, you never know what might happen.
|-
| [[File:kidfactory.png]]<h3>'''Child Worker'''</h3>
| 2
| Workers are getting harder to come by in Redistan as more and more people are sent to the front during the Civil War. Thank GREAT LEADER child labour is encouraged for proper childhood development.
| Don't be afraid to ask for help. No one expects anything of you, you're a child!
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungchef.png]] '''The Civillians''' - What, no food?
|-
| [[File:cook.png]]<h3>'''Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| Not quite experienced enough to be a proper chef, you at least know enough to run your own hash house. Cook whatever you like, just don't get too Italian with it, it doesn't mix well with the local palate. Don't give your child tap water.
| Food service has very thin margins. Mark up everything you can. The vending machines are far too expensive to be worth it.
|-
| [[File:asscook.png]]<h3>'''Assistant Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the cook's apprentice. You're not going to do much cooking, but he should be able to teach you the art of crying in the walk-in between orders.
| Cooking is best for visual learners. Pay attention to what the cook does if you want to learn.
|-
| [[File:janitor.png]]<h3>'''Janitor'''</h3>
| 3
| Sweep it up, janny. The bunker is filthy and you control the mops. A clean bunker is an orderly one.
| You have good justification for getting into other people's workplaces. Try not to have sticky fingers.
|-
|-
| [[File:mullen.png]]<h3>'''Mullen'''</h3>
| 1
| A private dick. This bunker is a festering pit of darkness and hyper realistic blood, angels weeping, dead inside, fucked up shit and thick skin. You get the idea. Try to offer your services, there's sure to be someone who has a case.
| When a bum sees a dick coming, he don't stick around.
|-
| [[File:barber.png]]<h3>'''Barber'''</h3>
| 1
| Hair always grows. People always need haircuts. That's your specialty.
| This is a wildcard role. Make sure to take length into account. Haircuts only go one way.
|-
| [[File:tailor.png]]<h3>'''Haberdasher'''</h3>
| 1
| You never could stand the atmosphere in the big city department stores. It might be a shithole, but there's enough money here to make a decent living making high-end clothing.
| This is a wildcard role. You can adjust people's suits and uniforms to fit them, as well as make new pieces of clothing on your sewing machine.
|-
| [[File:bottega.png]]<h3>'''Proprietor'''</h3>
| 1
| You bring some of that Spaghetto 'charm' to the bunker, running a Post-Italian Bottega, a general corner store selling a little bit of everything.
| You've got a price gun. It's convenient to label things ahead of time. Don't be afraid to mark up, convenience is worth a lot.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungiminal.png]] '''The Underbelly''' - Woah mama mia cunt
|-
| [[File:caporegime.png]]<h3>'''Caporegime'''</h3>
| 1
| The head of the local branch of Post-Italian troublemakers. You're here representing your Godfather back West in the Spaghetto. There's a multitude of ways to get things done down here, it's just a matter of picking which one.
| Pure violence is typically a poor choice for the mafia. Try to keep your exploits well thought out and executed. Do not play this role if you're bad at leading people.
|-
| [[File:associate.png]]<h3>'''Associate'''</h3>
| 4
| Your standard Post-Italian grunt. Follow your Caporegime's orders, it's not like you have anywhere else to go. Post-Italians are naturally intimidating. Their patterns of speech strike fear into even the most stalwart Carnifexes.
| This is a Wildcard role. Talking will quickly give you away, but you can blend in fairly well if you keep quiet.
|-
| [[File:bocco.png]]<h3>'''Bocconcino'''</h3>
| 1
| The Mafia's very own orphan to boss around. Although you're not Italian, they've accepted you as one of their own.
| You're not Italian, yet. People are far less suspicious of you.
|-
| [[File:stabb.png]]<h3>'''Stabb Alley Gang'''</h3>
| 3 + Leader
| You inhabit the wretched Stabb Alley, named after C. Stabb, inventor of the dual-tipped knife. The Italians are too high brow for you and your buddies. You prefer the simple stickup to the shakedown.
| The leader is not a wildcard. The grunts are. Power in numbers, make sure you stick together. One ganger isn't a threat. Three is.
|-
| [[File:quack.png]]<h3>'''Quack'''</h3>
| 1
| Kicked out of the Practitioner's League for reasons that were NOT YOUR FAULT, you service the slums. There's a good living in being a mafia doctor.
| This is hardcore Practitioner. You will struggle for supplies. Practitioners who think they can come on your turf need to be taught a lesson.
|-
| [[File:scrungus.png]]<h3>'''Wildcard'''</h3>
| >20
| A pool of special roles that you can't play by other means, ranging from noble tourists, lonesome Caveboy drifters and mercenaries to more in depth roles like barbers and haberdasherers. Most wildcard roles are not listed on this page.
| Follow your instincts and you will do well.
|-
|}
|}

Reborn

2023-09-06T22:02:55Z

Spooky:

[[File:reborn_hallway.jpg|600px|thumb|A Peacekeeper on Patrol, by Zion]]
==Redistan, my Beloved==
Interstation 12: Reborn is the roleplay focused IS12 codebase, with a noir black comedy atmosphere. Set in a Redistani bunker decades after the 'eternal' Redistani-Blusnian war ended, Reborn focuses more on player agency to develop the world and characterization rather than strictly sticking to 50000 word lore articles. That being said, thanks to the two years of development, it can make it a little daunting to jump in as a new player. [[Redistani Life|Click here for a comprehensive document detailing what you should already know as a proud Redistani.]]

==Proud Redistanis==

{| style="width: 80%; ax-width: 120em; border-spacing: 2em; clear: both"
|
{| style="width:100%;margin:0; color: #ffffff; background: #bbb; border: 2px solid #634B4F; text-align: center;"
|-
| style="width: 10%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Role'''
| style="width: 5%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Slots'''
| style="width: 50%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Description'''
| style="width: 40%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Notes'''
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #bbb; border:3px solid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungudant.png]] '''The Nobility''' - Pompous assholes, living in fantasy land. Expect them to blame you when reality comes knocking.
|-
| [[File:commandant.png]]<h3>'''Commandant'''</h3>
| 1
| Obsessed with old world militaria, the Commandant of Portzee demands nothing more than respect and for the masses to finance his lifestyle. It might not be a real title, but you'd do wise not to bring that up to him.
| As Commandant, your underlings will manage most tasks for you. Adjust the tax rate as you see fit, make pointless announcements and perform corrections where needed, otherwise your time is yours to <s>torture</s> enlighten your subjects.
|-
| [[File:consort.png]]<h3>'''Consort'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the Commandant's dear partner. Throw your nobility around, you've earned it.
| You have as much authority as the Commandant, given you're not going against them. Commoners might not like to listen to you, getting a Peacekeeper's truncheon to the face is a quick fix.
|-
| [[File:scion.png]]<h3>'''Scion'''</h3>
| 2
| You're one of the Commandant and Consort's pride and joy. You're a spoiled brat with far too much power, although you're a weak child with little ability to exercise it.
| Try to abuse your parents goodwill to get what you want. They have plenty to share.
|-
| [[File:servant.png]]<h3>'''Servant'''</h3>
| 1
| More of a pet than a noble, you're a prisoner shipped in from THE CAPITAL, given another chance at freedom through unending indentured servitude! The Commandant's palace is filthy and their children are very hungry. Best get to work soon.
| A good servant is one who is seen as little as possible. Try to assume what your Commandant wants and have it done before they have time to ask for it.
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:avodant.png]] '''The Gatewatch''' - Good morning inspector. Refuse all Italians entry. Glory to Redistan.
|-
| [[File:advo.png]]<h3>'''Advocatus'''</H3>
| 1
| A Bureaucrat from back West, sent to this backwater to assure it doesn't become a den of separatists, occasionally reporting back to senior Advocatii in THE CAPITAL. The Redistani Civil War makes mistakes unacceptable. Do not be afraid to be cruel. Glory to Redistan.
| You have the same amount of authority as the Commandant, although only within the confines of the gate and your men. Do not be afraid to challenge his orders if they are unreasonable, and make your men hold steadfast.
|-
| [[File:boothstatue.png]]<h3>'''Inspector'''</h3>
| 1
| Giddy volunteers to the A.A.M., encouraged to keep their full attention through the retroactive punishment of their family. Some inspectors are in it for the Patriotism of keeping their country safe from those disgusting Separatists. Others just like to see the look on a child's face as they bar them from getting medical attention inside the bunker. Glory to Redistan.
| Your Advocatus is likely unhappy over their assignment to such a small settlement. Corruption is widespread this far East for a reason. Use that to your advantage.
|-
| [[File:borderguard.png]]<h3>'''Watchdog'''</h3>
| 2
| A grunt of the Gatewatch. Although you may often be made to keep in shape with drills or mop up the floors around the checkpoint, you have plenty of downtime too. If only you got a comfy chair to sit in as well...
| Abandoning your post is liable to get you discharged. Be sure to remind the line with the megaphones what restrictions are in place.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:pkudant.png]] '''The Peacekeepers''' - KEEP THE PEACE, DAMNIT!!!
|-
| [[File:headguard.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Head Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 1
| A sergeant, with a small squad of disorganised but (usually) loyal troops at your disposal. Coordinate your Cadets and Peacekeepers well. Your equipment may be outdated, but it is plentiful. A weak sargeant makes for a weak squad.
| Your only goal is to KEEP THE PEACE. Your Peacekeepers shouldn't be starting fights in the slums. Don't be afraid to discipline them when they do something stupid.
|-
| [[File:pkguard.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 4
| You might be schlubby, you might be unfit, but you're here and that's all that really counts. Your main jobs are going to be pest control and abusing what little power you have. You can always make up any charge you like, it's not like whoever you're accusing has a book of laws. Maybe if you suck up enough, the Head Peacekeeper will bother with outfitting you with some nicer gear or perhaps you'll even get that promotion you've been pining for. Make sure to follow his words to a T.
| Be glad you're not back West, fighting Separatists on the front lines.
|-
| [[File:cadet.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Cadet]]</h3>
| 1
| Merely a child, your tendency to bully others and throw your weight around made you a prime pick for the Peace Corps. You might not be on the front lines, but you're sure to make your country and parents proud.
| While you're more proficient with weapons than most children, you are still rather weak. You make for a strong scout, as well as a keen accompaniment to adult peacekeepers. They're sure to teach you well if you ask.
|-
| [[File:ranger.png]]<h3>'''Cave Ranger'''</h3>
| 1
| You were born into the caves, molded by them. You didn't see civilisation until you were already an adult. The caves are your home and you're sure to treat them and all their inhabitants well. Keep poachers away from the wildlife, give litterers the death penalty and patch up any idiots who end up bleeding out in the caves.
| This is a wildcard role. The caves are your home. Treat them like you would a family member.
|-
| [[File:scab.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Scab]]</h3>
| 2
| You've copped slum duty after fucking up bad and now you have to maintain order in what you're pretty sure is a literal cess pit. Make sure Mr. Redz is happy with the security of his factory, he's sure to hand you a little bonus if you do a good job.
| Power in numbers. Just having your partner nearby is likely to scare most opportunists off.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungtitioner.png]] '''The Practitioners''' - Let's go practice medicine.
|-
| [[File:hprac.png]]<h3>'''Head Practitioner'''</h3>
| 1
| The head honcho. You have the longest beak, so you are in charge. You might not have ever actually seen a bird, but you know how to lead your flock to glory. Remember, if the power goes out, it's not just the Undertaker they're going to blame.
| Always assume your underlings are incompetent. Demonstrate to them the art of practicing medicine.
|-
|-
| [[File:prac.png]]<h3>'''Practitioner'''</h3>
| 3
| One of the Head Practitioner's flock. Your beak size may vary, but it'll never be bigger than the Head's. You're so dedicated to the art of practicing medicine that you voluntarily had your garments stitched into your skin. Best take a shower before heading out of the clinic.
| Absolutely no beakfighting allowed in the clinic. Try to remember your [[Guide to Medicine|schooling]].
|-
| [[File:apprentice.png]]<h3>'''Apprentice'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young apprentice to the Birdmen, freshly sent from one of the western Academies. Yet to get a worthy beak of your own, it's up to you to prove yourself and truly take in the words of your superiors. You'll get that beak yet, sonny.
| Schooling is all well and good, but it doesn't compare to practical experience. Do not be afraid to ask your superiors for help.
|-
| [[File:chemist.png]]<h3>'''[[Chemist]]'''</h3>
| 1
| You're a contractor under the Birdmen, not as dedicated to medicine as they are. Too bad they stitched the clothing into your skin anyway. At least you'll be left alone most of the time.
| Chemists are most useful when they spend time making premixed chemical combinations or ship chemicals off to the C.C.M. for profit.
|-
| [[File:undertaker.png]]<h3>'''Undertaker'''</h3>
| 1
| Secretly the most important person in the entire clinic. You love to hang around corpses, so you got the wonderous duty of hacking up bodies and feeding their limbs to The Beast. There is sure to be no shortage of dead people in the bunker.
| Undertakers are very versatile. Who's to say that person wasn't already dead when you caved their skull in?
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungissary.png]] '''The Customary and Commercenary Ministry''' - Turn a profit, damn the expense!
|-
| [[File:commissary.png]]<h3>'''Commissariat'''</h3>
| 1
| The economic heart of the bunker, supposedly. You know what things are worth. Never pay full value, you have to turn a profit as well.
| Your men are loyal, as long as you pay them well. As long as there's a profit to be made, ANYTHING is justifiable to the C.C.M..
|-
| [[File:cpusher.png]]<h3>'''Crate Pusher'''</h3>
| 3
| You push crates. You also break legs and kidnap people, if the Commissariat needs it done.
| Work hard. Set goals. Invest. C.C.M. mindset.
|-
| [[File:ckid.png]]<h3>'''Cargo Kid'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young entrepreneur, starting that grind early. Your older colleagues are sure to have some tips for you.
| A great learning role with very little responsibility.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:redzgus.png]] '''The Factory''' - No union? No worries!
|-
| [[File:mrredz.png]]<h3>'''Mr. Redz'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the fattest fuck in all of the bunker. You won ownership of a factory here in a backroom game and it's turning you a tidy profit. Your Foreman will typically have the factory under control, so feel free to go commiserate with your fellow fatass nobles. Always have food at hand. It's always time for a Cheeseburger.
| NO ONE FUCKS WITH MR. REDZ.
|-
| [[File:foreman.png]]<h3>'''Foreman'''</h3>
| 1
| You're Mr. Redz's trusted assistant. Do whatever he asks of you. This will typically be yelling at his workers to work harder.
| Mr. Redz has a lot of money and you work oh so hard for him. Perhaps a bonus is in order?
|-
| [[File:factory.png]]<h3>'''Factory Worker'''</h3>
| 6
| You're true working class, real brown collar shit. Whittle down the hours until the whistle blows so you can get off shift and blow your meagre paycheck at the Italian's place on cigarettes and pasto.
| Keep a steady pace. Work too fast, you never know what might happen.
|-
| [[File:kidfactory.png]]<h3>'''Child Worker'''</h3>
| 2
| Workers are getting harder to come by in Redistan as more and more people are sent to the front during the Civil War. Thank GREAT LEADER child labour is encouraged for proper childhood development.
| Don't be afraid to ask for help. No one expects anything of you, you're a child!
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungchef.png]] '''The Civillians''' - What, no food?
|-
| [[File:cook.png]]<h3>'''Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| Not quite experienced enough to be a proper chef, you at least know enough to run your own hash house. Cook whatever you like, just don't get too Italian with it, it doesn't mix well with the local palate. Don't give your child tap water.
| Food service has very thin margins. Mark up everything you can. The vending machines are far too expensive to be worth it.
|-
| [[File:asscook.png]]<h3>'''Assistant Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the cook's apprentice. You're not going to do much cooking, but he should be able to teach you the art of crying in the walk-in between orders.
| Cooking is best for visual learners. Pay attention to what the cook does if you want to learn.
|-
| [[File:janitor.png]]<h3>'''Janitor'''</h3>
| 3
| Sweep it up, janny. The bunker is filthy and you control the mops. A clean bunker is an orderly one.
| You have good justification for getting into other people's workplaces. Try not to have sticky fingers.
|-
|-
| [[File:mullen.png]]<h3>'''Mullen'''</h3>
| 1
| A private dick. This bunker is a festering pit of darkness and hyper realistic blood, angels weeping, dead inside, fucked up shit and thick skin. You get the idea. Try to offer your services, there's sure to be someone who has a case.
| When a bum sees a dick coming, he don't stick around.
|-
| [[File:barber.png]]<h3>'''Barber'''</h3>
| 1
| Hair always grows. People always need haircuts. That's your specialty.
| This is a wildcard role. Make sure to take length into account. Haircuts only go one way.
|-
| [[File:tailor.png]]<h3>'''Haberdasher'''</h3>
| 1
| You never could stand the atmosphere in the big city department stores. It might be a shithole, but there's enough money here to make a decent living making high-end clothing.
| This is a wildcard role. You can adjust people's suits and uniforms to fit them, as well as make new pieces of clothing on your sewing machine.
|-
| [[File:bottega.png]]<h3>'''Proprietor'''</h3>
| 1
| You bring some of that Spaghetto 'charm' to the bunker, running a Post-Italian Bottega, a general corner store selling a little bit of everything.
| You've got a price gun. It's convenient to label things ahead of time. Don't be afraid to mark up, convenience is worth a lot.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungiminal.png]] '''The Underbelly''' - Woah mama mia cunt
|-
| [[File:caporegime.png]]<h3>'''Caporegime'''</h3>
| 1
| The head of the local branch of Post-Italian troublemakers. You're here representing your Godfather back West in the Spaghetto. There's a multitude of ways to get things done down here, it's just a matter of picking which one.
| Pure violence is typically a poor choice for the mafia. Try to keep your exploits well thought out and executed. Do not play this role if you're bad at leading people.
|-
| [[File:associate.png]]<h3>'''Associate'''</h3>
| 4
| Your standard Post-Italian grunt. Follow your Caporegime's orders, it's not like you have anywhere else to go. Post-Italians are naturally intimidating. Their patterns of speech strike fear into even the most stalwart Carnifexes.
| This is a Wildcard role. Talking will quickly give you away, but you can blend in fairly well if you keep quiet.
|-
| [[File:bocco.png]]<h3>'''Bocconcino'''</h3>
| 1
| The Mafia's very own orphan to boss around. Although you're not Italian, they've accepted you as one of their own.
| You're not Italian, yet. People are far less suspicious of you.
|-
| [[File:stabb.png]]<h3>'''Stabb Alley Gang'''</h3>
| 3 + Leader
| You inhabit the wretched Stabb Alley, named after C. Stabb, inventor of the dual-tipped knife. The Italians are too high brow for you and your buddies. You prefer the simple stickup to the shakedown.
| The leader is not a wildcard. The grunts are. Power in numbers, make sure you stick together. One ganger isn't a threat. Three is.
|-
| [[File:quack.png]]<h3>'''Quack'''</h3>
| >20
| Kicked out of the Practitioner's League for reasons that were NOT YOUR FAULT, you service the slums. There's a good living in being a mafia doctor.
| This is hardcore Practitioner. You will struggle for supplies. Practitioners who think they can come on your turf need to be taught a lesson.
|-
| [[File:scrungus.png]]<h3>'''Wildcard'''</h3>
| >20
| A pool of special roles that you can't play by other means, ranging from noble tourists, lonesome Caveboy drifters and mercenaries to more in depth roles like barbers and haberdasherers. Most wildcard roles are not listed on this page.
| Follow your instincts and you will do well.
|-
|}
|}

File:Pkguard.png

2023-09-06T22:02:43Z

Spooky:

File:Headguard.png

2023-09-06T22:01:16Z

Spooky:

File:Borderguard.png

2023-09-06T21:59:58Z

Spooky:

File:Boothstatue.png

2023-09-06T21:59:07Z

Spooky:

File:Advo.png

2023-09-06T21:57:12Z

Spooky:

File:Watchdog.png

2023-09-06T21:45:33Z

Spooky: Spooky uploaded a new version of File:Watchdog.png

File:Inspector.png

2023-09-06T21:45:24Z

Spooky: Spooky uploaded a new version of File:Inspector.png

File:Avocado.png

2023-09-06T21:45:22Z

Spooky: Spooky uploaded a new version of File:Avocado.png

Reborn

2023-09-06T21:41:27Z

Spooky:

[[File:reborn_hallway.jpg|600px|thumb|A Peacekeeper on Patrol, by Zion]]
==Redistan, my Beloved==
Interstation 12: Reborn is the roleplay focused IS12 codebase, with a noir black comedy atmosphere. Set in a Redistani bunker decades after the 'eternal' Redistani-Blusnian war ended, Reborn focuses more on player agency to develop the world and characterization rather than strictly sticking to 50000 word lore articles. That being said, thanks to the two years of development, it can make it a little daunting to jump in as a new player. [[Redistani Life|Click here for a comprehensive document detailing what you should already know as a proud Redistani.]]

==Proud Redistanis==

{| style="width: 80%; ax-width: 120em; border-spacing: 2em; clear: both"
|
{| style="width:100%;margin:0; color: #ffffff; background: #bbb; border: 2px solid #634B4F; text-align: center;"
|-
| style="width: 10%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Role'''
| style="width: 5%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Slots'''
| style="width: 50%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Description'''
| style="width: 40%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Notes'''
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #bbb; border:3px solid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungudant.png]] '''The Nobility''' - Pompous assholes, living in fantasy land. Expect them to blame you when reality comes knocking.
|-
| [[File:commandant.png]]<h3>'''Commandant'''</h3>
| 1
| Obsessed with old world militaria, the Commandant of Portzee demands nothing more than respect and for the masses to finance his lifestyle. It might not be a real title, but you'd do wise not to bring that up to him.
| As Commandant, your underlings will manage most tasks for you. Adjust the tax rate as you see fit, make pointless announcements and perform corrections where needed, otherwise your time is yours to <s>torture</s> enlighten your subjects.
|-
| [[File:consort.png]]<h3>'''Consort'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the Commandant's dear partner. Throw your nobility around, you've earned it.
| You have as much authority as the Commandant, given you're not going against them. Commoners might not like to listen to you, getting a Peacekeeper's truncheon to the face is a quick fix.
|-
| [[File:scion.png]]<h3>'''Scion'''</h3>
| 2
| You're one of the Commandant and Consort's pride and joy. You're a spoiled brat with far too much power, although you're a weak child with little ability to exercise it.
| Try to abuse your parents goodwill to get what you want. They have plenty to share.
|-
| [[File:servant.png]]<h3>'''Servant'''</h3>
| 1
| More of a pet than a noble, you're a prisoner shipped in from THE CAPITAL, given another chance at freedom through unending indentured servitude! The Commandant's palace is filthy and their children are very hungry. Best get to work soon.
| A good servant is one who is seen as little as possible. Try to assume what your Commandant wants and have it done before they have time to ask for it.
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:avodant.png]] '''The Gatewatch''' - Good morning inspector. Refuse all Italians entry. Glory to Redistan.
|-
| [[File:avocado.png]]<h3>'''Advocatus'''</H3>
| 1
| A Bureaucrat from back West, sent to this backwater to assure it doesn't become a den of separatists, occasionally reporting back to senior Advocatii in THE CAPITAL. The Redistani Civil War makes mistakes unacceptable. Do not be afraid to be cruel. Glory to Redistan.
| You have the same amount of authority as the Commandant, although only within the confines of the gate and your men. Do not be afraid to challenge his orders if they are unreasonable, and make your men hold steadfast.
|-
| [[File:inspector.png]]<h3>'''Inspector'''</h3>
| 1
| Giddy volunteers to the A.A.M., encouraged to keep their full attention through the retroactive punishment of their family. Some inspectors are in it for the Patriotism of keeping their country safe from those disgusting Separatists. Others just like to see the look on a child's face as they bar them from getting medical attention inside the bunker. Glory to Redistan.
| Your Advocatus is likely unhappy over their assignment to such a small settlement. Corruption is widespread this far East for a reason. Use that to your advantage.
|-
| [[File:watchdog.png]]<h3>'''Watchdog'''</h3>
| 2
| A grunt of the Gatewatch. Although you may often be made to keep in shape with drills or mop up the floors around the checkpoint, you have plenty of downtime too. If only you got a comfy chair to sit in as well...
| Abandoning your post is liable to get you discharged. Be sure to remind the line with the megaphones what restrictions are in place.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:pkudant.png]] '''The Peacekeepers''' - KEEP THE PEACE, DAMNIT!!!
|-
| [[File:hpeacekeeper.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Head Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 1
| A sergeant, with a small squad of disorganised but (usually) loyal troops at your disposal. Coordinate your Cadets and Peacekeepers well. Your equipment may be outdated, but it is plentiful. A weak sargeant makes for a weak squad.
| Your only goal is to KEEP THE PEACE. Your Peacekeepers shouldn't be starting fights in the slums. Don't be afraid to discipline them when they do something stupid.
|-
| [[File:peacekeeper.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 4
| You might be schlubby, you might be unfit, but you're here and that's all that really counts. Your main jobs are going to be pest control and abusing what little power you have. You can always make up any charge you like, it's not like whoever you're accusing has a book of laws. Maybe if you suck up enough, the Head Peacekeeper will bother with outfitting you with some nicer gear or perhaps you'll even get that promotion you've been pining for. Make sure to follow his words to a T.
| Be glad you're not back West, fighting Separatists on the front lines.
|-
| [[File:cadet.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Cadet]]</h3>
| 1
| Merely a child, your tendency to bully others and throw your weight around made you a prime pick for the Peace Corps. You might not be on the front lines, but you're sure to make your country and parents proud.
| While you're more proficient with weapons than most children, you are still rather weak. You make for a strong scout, as well as a keen accompaniment to adult peacekeepers. They're sure to teach you well if you ask.
|-
| [[File:ranger.png]]<h3>'''Cave Ranger'''</h3>
| 1
| You were born into the caves, molded by them. You didn't see civilisation until you were already an adult. The caves are your home and you're sure to treat them and all their inhabitants well. Keep poachers away from the wildlife, give litterers the death penalty and patch up any idiots who end up bleeding out in the caves.
| This is a wildcard role. The caves are your home. Treat them like you would a family member.
|-
| [[File:scab.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Scab]]</h3>
| 2
| You've copped slum duty after fucking up bad and now you have to maintain order in what you're pretty sure is a literal cess pit. Make sure Mr. Redz is happy with the security of his factory, he's sure to hand you a little bonus if you do a good job.
| Power in numbers. Just having your partner nearby is likely to scare most opportunists off.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungtitioner.png]] '''The Practitioners''' - Let's go practice medicine.
|-
| [[File:hprac.png]]<h3>'''Head Practitioner'''</h3>
| 1
| The head honcho. You have the longest beak, so you are in charge. You might not have ever actually seen a bird, but you know how to lead your flock to glory. Remember, if the power goes out, it's not just the Undertaker they're going to blame.
| Always assume your underlings are incompetent. Demonstrate to them the art of practicing medicine.
|-
|-
| [[File:prac.png]]<h3>'''Practitioner'''</h3>
| 3
| One of the Head Practitioner's flock. Your beak size may vary, but it'll never be bigger than the Head's. You're so dedicated to the art of practicing medicine that you voluntarily had your garments stitched into your skin. Best take a shower before heading out of the clinic.
| Absolutely no beakfighting allowed in the clinic. Try to remember your [[Guide to Medicine|schooling]].
|-
| [[File:apprentice.png]]<h3>'''Apprentice'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young apprentice to the Birdmen, freshly sent from one of the western Academies. Yet to get a worthy beak of your own, it's up to you to prove yourself and truly take in the words of your superiors. You'll get that beak yet, sonny.
| Schooling is all well and good, but it doesn't compare to practical experience. Do not be afraid to ask your superiors for help.
|-
| [[File:chemist.png]]<h3>'''[[Chemist]]'''</h3>
| 1
| You're a contractor under the Birdmen, not as dedicated to medicine as they are. Too bad they stitched the clothing into your skin anyway. At least you'll be left alone most of the time.
| Chemists are most useful when they spend time making premixed chemical combinations or ship chemicals off to the C.C.M. for profit.
|-
| [[File:undertaker.png]]<h3>'''Undertaker'''</h3>
| 1
| Secretly the most important person in the entire clinic. You love to hang around corpses, so you got the wonderous duty of hacking up bodies and feeding their limbs to The Beast. There is sure to be no shortage of dead people in the bunker.
| Undertakers are very versatile. Who's to say that person wasn't already dead when you caved their skull in?
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungissary.png]] '''The Customary and Commercenary Ministry''' - Turn a profit, damn the expense!
|-
| [[File:commissary.png]]<h3>'''Commissariat'''</h3>
| 1
| The economic heart of the bunker, supposedly. You know what things are worth. Never pay full value, you have to turn a profit as well.
| Your men are loyal, as long as you pay them well. As long as there's a profit to be made, ANYTHING is justifiable to the C.C.M..
|-
| [[File:cpusher.png]]<h3>'''Crate Pusher'''</h3>
| 3
| You push crates. You also break legs and kidnap people, if the Commissariat needs it done.
| Work hard. Set goals. Invest. C.C.M. mindset.
|-
| [[File:ckid.png]]<h3>'''Cargo Kid'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young entrepreneur, starting that grind early. Your older colleagues are sure to have some tips for you.
| A great learning role with very little responsibility.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:redzgus.png]] '''The Factory''' - No union? No worries!
|-
| [[File:mrredz.png]]<h3>'''Mr. Redz'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the fattest fuck in all of the bunker. You won ownership of a factory here in a backroom game and it's turning you a tidy profit. Your Foreman will typically have the factory under control, so feel free to go commiserate with your fellow fatass nobles. Always have food at hand. It's always time for a Cheeseburger.
| NO ONE FUCKS WITH MR. REDZ.
|-
| [[File:foreman.png]]<h3>'''Foreman'''</h3>
| 1
| You're Mr. Redz's trusted assistant. Do whatever he asks of you. This will typically be yelling at his workers to work harder.
| Mr. Redz has a lot of money and you work oh so hard for him. Perhaps a bonus is in order?
|-
| [[File:factory.png]]<h3>'''Factory Worker'''</h3>
| 6
| You're true working class, real brown collar shit. Whittle down the hours until the whistle blows so you can get off shift and blow your meagre paycheck at the Italian's place on cigarettes and pasto.
| Keep a steady pace. Work too fast, you never know what might happen.
|-
| [[File:kidfactory.png]]<h3>'''Child Worker'''</h3>
| 2
| Workers are getting harder to come by in Redistan as more and more people are sent to the front during the Civil War. Thank GREAT LEADER child labour is encouraged for proper childhood development.
| Don't be afraid to ask for help. No one expects anything of you, you're a child!
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungchef.png]] '''The Civillians''' - What, no food?
|-
| [[File:cook.png]]<h3>'''Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| Not quite experienced enough to be a proper chef, you at least know enough to run your own hash house. Cook whatever you like, just don't get too Italian with it, it doesn't mix well with the local palate. Don't give your child tap water.
| Food service has very thin margins. Mark up everything you can. The vending machines are far too expensive to be worth it.
|-
| [[File:asscook.png]]<h3>'''Assistant Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the cook's apprentice. You're not going to do much cooking, but he should be able to teach you the art of crying in the walk-in between orders.
| Cooking is best for visual learners. Pay attention to what the cook does if you want to learn.
|-
| [[File:janitor.png]]<h3>'''Janitor'''</h3>
| 3
| Sweep it up, janny. The bunker is filthy and you control the mops. A clean bunker is an orderly one.
| You have good justification for getting into other people's workplaces. Try not to have sticky fingers.
|-
|-
| [[File:mullen.png]]<h3>'''Mullen'''</h3>
| 1
| A private dick. This bunker is a festering pit of darkness and hyper realistic blood, angels weeping, dead inside, fucked up shit and thick skin. You get the idea. Try to offer your services, there's sure to be someone who has a case.
| When a bum sees a dick coming, he don't stick around.
|-
| [[File:barber.png]]<h3>'''Barber'''</h3>
| 1
| Hair always grows. People always need haircuts. That's your specialty.
| This is a wildcard role. Make sure to take length into account. Haircuts only go one way.
|-
| [[File:tailor.png]]<h3>'''Haberdasher'''</h3>
| 1
| You never could stand the atmosphere in the big city department stores. It might be a shithole, but there's enough money here to make a decent living making high-end clothing.
| This is a wildcard role. You can adjust people's suits and uniforms to fit them, as well as make new pieces of clothing on your sewing machine.
|-
| [[File:bottega.png]]<h3>'''Proprietor'''</h3>
| 1
| You bring some of that Spaghetto 'charm' to the bunker, running a Post-Italian Bottega, a general corner store selling a little bit of everything.
| You've got a price gun. It's convenient to label things ahead of time. Don't be afraid to mark up, convenience is worth a lot.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungiminal.png]] '''The Underbelly''' - Woah mama mia cunt
|-
| [[File:caporegime.png]]<h3>'''Caporegime'''</h3>
| 1
| The head of the local branch of Post-Italian troublemakers. You're here representing your Godfather back West in the Spaghetto. There's a multitude of ways to get things done down here, it's just a matter of picking which one.
| Pure violence is typically a poor choice for the mafia. Try to keep your exploits well thought out and executed. Do not play this role if you're bad at leading people.
|-
| [[File:associate.png]]<h3>'''Associate'''</h3>
| 4
| Your standard Post-Italian grunt. Follow your Caporegime's orders, it's not like you have anywhere else to go. Post-Italians are naturally intimidating. Their patterns of speech strike fear into even the most stalwart Carnifexes.
| This is a Wildcard role. Talking will quickly give you away, but you can blend in fairly well if you keep quiet.
|-
| [[File:bocco.png]]<h3>'''Bocconcino'''</h3>
| 1
| The Mafia's very own orphan to boss around. Although you're not Italian, they've accepted you as one of their own.
| You're not Italian, yet. People are far less suspicious of you.
|-
| [[File:stabb.png]]<h3>'''Stabb Alley Gang'''</h3>
| 3 + Leader
| You inhabit the wretched Stabb Alley, named after C. Stabb, inventor of the dual-tipped knife. The Italians are too high brow for you and your buddies. You prefer the simple stickup to the shakedown.
| The leader is not a wildcard. The grunts are. Power in numbers, make sure you stick together. One ganger isn't a threat. Three is.
|-
| [[File:quack.png]]<h3>'''Quack'''</h3>
| >20
| Kicked out of the Practitioner's League for reasons that were NOT YOUR FAULT, you service the slums. There's a good living in being a mafia doctor.
| This is hardcore Practitioner. You will struggle for supplies. Practitioners who think they can come on your turf need to be taught a lesson.
|-
| [[File:scrungus.png]]<h3>'''Wildcard'''</h3>
| >20
| A pool of special roles that you can't play by other means, ranging from noble tourists, lonesome Caveboy drifters and mercenaries to more in depth roles like barbers and haberdasherers. Most wildcard roles are not listed on this page.
| Follow your instincts and you will do well.
|-
|}
|}

File:Quack.png

2023-09-06T21:41:18Z

Spooky:

File:Stabb.png

2023-09-06T21:40:44Z

Spooky:

File:Bottega.png

2023-09-06T21:39:37Z

Spooky:

File:Tailor.png

2023-09-06T21:37:52Z

Spooky:

Reborn

2023-09-06T21:36:12Z

Spooky:

[[File:reborn_hallway.jpg|600px|thumb|A Peacekeeper on Patrol, by Zion]]
==Redistan, my Beloved==
Interstation 12: Reborn is the roleplay focused IS12 codebase, with a noir black comedy atmosphere. Set in a Redistani bunker decades after the 'eternal' Redistani-Blusnian war ended, Reborn focuses more on player agency to develop the world and characterization rather than strictly sticking to 50000 word lore articles. That being said, thanks to the two years of development, it can make it a little daunting to jump in as a new player. [[Redistani Life|Click here for a comprehensive document detailing what you should already know as a proud Redistani.]]

==Proud Redistanis==

{| style="width: 80%; ax-width: 120em; border-spacing: 2em; clear: both"
|
{| style="width:100%;margin:0; color: #ffffff; background: #bbb; border: 2px solid #634B4F; text-align: center;"
|-
| style="width: 10%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Role'''
| style="width: 5%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Slots'''
| style="width: 50%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Description'''
| style="width: 40%; background: #312629; color: #ffffff; border: 5px solid #634B4F; border-top:0px. " | '''Notes'''
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #bbb; border:3px solid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungudant.png]] '''The Nobility''' - Pompous assholes, living in fantasy land. Expect them to blame you when reality comes knocking.
|-
| [[File:commandant.png]]<h3>'''Commandant'''</h3>
| 1
| Obsessed with old world militaria, the Commandant of Portzee demands nothing more than respect and for the masses to finance his lifestyle. It might not be a real title, but you'd do wise not to bring that up to him.
| As Commandant, your underlings will manage most tasks for you. Adjust the tax rate as you see fit, make pointless announcements and perform corrections where needed, otherwise your time is yours to <s>torture</s> enlighten your subjects.
|-
| [[File:consort.png]]<h3>'''Consort'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the Commandant's dear partner. Throw your nobility around, you've earned it.
| You have as much authority as the Commandant, given you're not going against them. Commoners might not like to listen to you, getting a Peacekeeper's truncheon to the face is a quick fix.
|-
| [[File:scion.png]]<h3>'''Scion'''</h3>
| 2
| You're one of the Commandant and Consort's pride and joy. You're a spoiled brat with far too much power, although you're a weak child with little ability to exercise it.
| Try to abuse your parents goodwill to get what you want. They have plenty to share.
|-
| [[File:servant.png]]<h3>'''Servant'''</h3>
| 1
| More of a pet than a noble, you're a prisoner shipped in from THE CAPITAL, given another chance at freedom through unending indentured servitude! The Commandant's palace is filthy and their children are very hungry. Best get to work soon.
| A good servant is one who is seen as little as possible. Try to assume what your Commandant wants and have it done before they have time to ask for it.
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:avodant.png]] '''The Gatewatch''' - Good morning inspector. Refuse all Italians entry. Glory to Redistan.
|-
| [[File:avocado.png]]<h3>'''Advocatus'''</H3>
| 1
| A Bureaucrat from back West, sent to this backwater to assure it doesn't become a den of separatists, occasionally reporting back to senior Advocatii in THE CAPITAL. The Redistani Civil War makes mistakes unacceptable. Do not be afraid to be cruel. Glory to Redistan.
| You have the same amount of authority as the Commandant, although only within the confines of the gate and your men. Do not be afraid to challenge his orders if they are unreasonable, and make your men hold steadfast.
|-
| [[File:inspector.png]]<h3>'''Inspector'''</h3>
| 1
| Giddy volunteers to the A.A.M., encouraged to keep their full attention through the retroactive punishment of their family. Some inspectors are in it for the Patriotism of keeping their country safe from those disgusting Separatists. Others just like to see the look on a child's face as they bar them from getting medical attention inside the bunker. Glory to Redistan.
| Your Advocatus is likely unhappy over their assignment to such a small settlement. Corruption is widespread this far East for a reason. Use that to your advantage.
|-
| [[File:watchdog.png]]<h3>'''Watchdog'''</h3>
| 2
| A grunt of the Gatewatch. Although you may often be made to keep in shape with drills or mop up the floors around the checkpoint, you have plenty of downtime too. If only you got a comfy chair to sit in as well...
| Abandoning your post is liable to get you discharged. Be sure to remind the line with the megaphones what restrictions are in place.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:pkudant.png]] '''The Peacekeepers''' - KEEP THE PEACE, DAMNIT!!!
|-
| [[File:hpeacekeeper.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Head Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 1
| A sergeant, with a small squad of disorganised but (usually) loyal troops at your disposal. Coordinate your Cadets and Peacekeepers well. Your equipment may be outdated, but it is plentiful. A weak sargeant makes for a weak squad.
| Your only goal is to KEEP THE PEACE. Your Peacekeepers shouldn't be starting fights in the slums. Don't be afraid to discipline them when they do something stupid.
|-
| [[File:peacekeeper.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Peacekeeper]]</h3>
| 4
| You might be schlubby, you might be unfit, but you're here and that's all that really counts. Your main jobs are going to be pest control and abusing what little power you have. You can always make up any charge you like, it's not like whoever you're accusing has a book of laws. Maybe if you suck up enough, the Head Peacekeeper will bother with outfitting you with some nicer gear or perhaps you'll even get that promotion you've been pining for. Make sure to follow his words to a T.
| Be glad you're not back West, fighting Separatists on the front lines.
|-
| [[File:cadet.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Cadet]]</h3>
| 1
| Merely a child, your tendency to bully others and throw your weight around made you a prime pick for the Peace Corps. You might not be on the front lines, but you're sure to make your country and parents proud.
| While you're more proficient with weapons than most children, you are still rather weak. You make for a strong scout, as well as a keen accompaniment to adult peacekeepers. They're sure to teach you well if you ask.
|-
| [[File:ranger.png]]<h3>'''Cave Ranger'''</h3>
| 1
| You were born into the caves, molded by them. You didn't see civilisation until you were already an adult. The caves are your home and you're sure to treat them and all their inhabitants well. Keep poachers away from the wildlife, give litterers the death penalty and patch up any idiots who end up bleeding out in the caves.
| This is a wildcard role. The caves are your home. Treat them like you would a family member.
|-
| [[File:scab.png]]<h3>[[Peace Corps|Scab]]</h3>
| 2
| You've copped slum duty after fucking up bad and now you have to maintain order in what you're pretty sure is a literal cess pit. Make sure Mr. Redz is happy with the security of his factory, he's sure to hand you a little bonus if you do a good job.
| Power in numbers. Just having your partner nearby is likely to scare most opportunists off.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungtitioner.png]] '''The Practitioners''' - Let's go practice medicine.
|-
| [[File:hprac.png]]<h3>'''Head Practitioner'''</h3>
| 1
| The head honcho. You have the longest beak, so you are in charge. You might not have ever actually seen a bird, but you know how to lead your flock to glory. Remember, if the power goes out, it's not just the Undertaker they're going to blame.
| Always assume your underlings are incompetent. Demonstrate to them the art of practicing medicine.
|-
|-
| [[File:prac.png]]<h3>'''Practitioner'''</h3>
| 3
| One of the Head Practitioner's flock. Your beak size may vary, but it'll never be bigger than the Head's. You're so dedicated to the art of practicing medicine that you voluntarily had your garments stitched into your skin. Best take a shower before heading out of the clinic.
| Absolutely no beakfighting allowed in the clinic. Try to remember your [[Guide to Medicine|schooling]].
|-
| [[File:apprentice.png]]<h3>'''Apprentice'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young apprentice to the Birdmen, freshly sent from one of the western Academies. Yet to get a worthy beak of your own, it's up to you to prove yourself and truly take in the words of your superiors. You'll get that beak yet, sonny.
| Schooling is all well and good, but it doesn't compare to practical experience. Do not be afraid to ask your superiors for help.
|-
| [[File:chemist.png]]<h3>'''[[Chemist]]'''</h3>
| 1
| You're a contractor under the Birdmen, not as dedicated to medicine as they are. Too bad they stitched the clothing into your skin anyway. At least you'll be left alone most of the time.
| Chemists are most useful when they spend time making premixed chemical combinations or ship chemicals off to the C.C.M. for profit.
|-
| [[File:undertaker.png]]<h3>'''Undertaker'''</h3>
| 1
| Secretly the most important person in the entire clinic. You love to hang around corpses, so you got the wonderous duty of hacking up bodies and feeding their limbs to The Beast. There is sure to be no shortage of dead people in the bunker.
| Undertakers are very versatile. Who's to say that person wasn't already dead when you caved their skull in?
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungissary.png]] '''The Customary and Commercenary Ministry''' - Turn a profit, damn the expense!
|-
| [[File:commissary.png]]<h3>'''Commissariat'''</h3>
| 1
| The economic heart of the bunker, supposedly. You know what things are worth. Never pay full value, you have to turn a profit as well.
| Your men are loyal, as long as you pay them well. As long as there's a profit to be made, ANYTHING is justifiable to the C.C.M..
|-
| [[File:cpusher.png]]<h3>'''Crate Pusher'''</h3>
| 3
| You push crates. You also break legs and kidnap people, if the Commissariat needs it done.
| Work hard. Set goals. Invest. C.C.M. mindset.
|-
| [[File:ckid.png]]<h3>'''Cargo Kid'''</h3>
| 2
| You're a young entrepreneur, starting that grind early. Your older colleagues are sure to have some tips for you.
| A great learning role with very little responsibility.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:redzgus.png]] '''The Factory''' - No union? No worries!
|-
| [[File:mrredz.png]]<h3>'''Mr. Redz'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the fattest fuck in all of the bunker. You won ownership of a factory here in a backroom game and it's turning you a tidy profit. Your Foreman will typically have the factory under control, so feel free to go commiserate with your fellow fatass nobles. Always have food at hand. It's always time for a Cheeseburger.
| NO ONE FUCKS WITH MR. REDZ.
|-
| [[File:foreman.png]]<h3>'''Foreman'''</h3>
| 1
| You're Mr. Redz's trusted assistant. Do whatever he asks of you. This will typically be yelling at his workers to work harder.
| Mr. Redz has a lot of money and you work oh so hard for him. Perhaps a bonus is in order?
|-
| [[File:factory.png]]<h3>'''Factory Worker'''</h3>
| 6
| You're true working class, real brown collar shit. Whittle down the hours until the whistle blows so you can get off shift and blow your meagre paycheck at the Italian's place on cigarettes and pasto.
| Keep a steady pace. Work too fast, you never know what might happen.
|-
| [[File:kidfactory.png]]<h3>'''Child Worker'''</h3>
| 2
| Workers are getting harder to come by in Redistan as more and more people are sent to the front during the Civil War. Thank GREAT LEADER child labour is encouraged for proper childhood development.
| Don't be afraid to ask for help. No one expects anything of you, you're a child!
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungchef.png]] '''The Civillians''' - What, no food?
|-
| [[File:cook.png]]<h3>'''Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| Not quite experienced enough to be a proper chef, you at least know enough to run your own hash house. Cook whatever you like, just don't get too Italian with it, it doesn't mix well with the local palate. Don't give your child tap water.
| Food service has very thin margins. Mark up everything you can. The vending machines are far too expensive to be worth it.
|-
| [[File:asscook.png]]<h3>'''Assistant Cook'''</h3>
| 1
| You're the cook's apprentice. You're not going to do much cooking, but he should be able to teach you the art of crying in the walk-in between orders.
| Cooking is best for visual learners. Pay attention to what the cook does if you want to learn.
|-
| [[File:janitor.png]]<h3>'''Janitor'''</h3>
| 3
| Sweep it up, janny. The bunker is filthy and you control the mops. A clean bunker is an orderly one.
| You have good justification for getting into other people's workplaces. Try not to have sticky fingers.
|-
|-
| [[File:mullen.png]]<h3>'''Mullen'''</h3>
| 1
| A private dick. This bunker is a festering pit of darkness and hyper realistic blood, angels weeping, dead inside, fucked up shit and thick skin. You get the idea. Try to offer your services, there's sure to be someone who has a case.
| When a bum sees a dick coming, he don't stick around.
|-
| [[File:barber.png]]<h3>'''Barber'''</h3>
| 1
| Hair always grows. People always need haircuts. That's your specialty.
| This is a wildcard role. Make sure to take length into account. Haircuts only go one way.
|-
| [[File:placeholder.png]]<h3>'''Haberdasher'''</h3>
| 1
| You never could stand the atmosphere in the big city department stores. It might be a shithole, but there's enough money here to make a decent living making high-end clothing.
| This is a wildcard role. You can adjust people's suits and uniforms to fit them, as well as make new pieces of clothing on your sewing machine.
|-
| [[File:placeholder.png]]<h3>'''Proprietor'''</h3>
| 1
| You bring some of that Spaghetto 'charm' to the bunker, running a Post-Italian Bottega, a general corner store selling a little bit of everything.
| You've got a price gun. It's convenient to label things ahead of time. Don't be afraid to mark up, convenience is worth a lot.
|-
|-
| colspan="4" style="color: #333; padding:2px; padding-left: 50px; background: #bbaaaa; border-left: 1px solid #ddd; border:3px sloid #ddd;text-align: center;" | [[File:scrungiminal.png]] '''The Underbelly''' - Woah mama mia cunt
|-
| [[File:caporegime.png]]<h3>'''Caporegime'''</h3>
| 1
| The head of the local branch of Post-Italian troublemakers. You're here representing your Godfather back West in the Spaghetto. There's a multitude of ways to get things done down here, it's just a matter of picking which one.
| Pure violence is typically a poor choice for the mafia. Try to keep your exploits well thought out and executed. Do not play this role if you're bad at leading people.
|-
| [[File:associate.png]]<h3>'''Associate'''</h3>
| 4
| Your standard Post-Italian grunt. Follow your Caporegime's orders, it's not like you have anywhere else to go. Post-Italians are naturally intimidating. Their patterns of speech strike fear into even the most stalwart Carnifexes.
| This is a Wildcard role. Talking will quickly give you away, but you can blend in fairly well if you keep quiet.
|-
| [[File:bocco.png]]<h3>'''Bocconcino'''</h3>
| 1
| The Mafia's very own orphan to boss around. Although you're not Italian, they've accepted you as one of their own.
| You're not Italian, yet. People are far less suspicious of you.
|-
| [[File:placeholder.png]]<h3>'''Stabb Alley Gang'''</h3>
| 3 + Leader
| You inhabit the wretched Stabb Alley, named after C. Stabb, inventor of the dual-tipped knife. The Italians are too high brow for you and your buddies. You prefer the simple stickup to the shakedown.
| The leader is not a wildcard. The grunts are. Power in numbers, make sure you stick together. One ganger isn't a threat. Three is.
|-
| [[File:placeholder.png]]<h3>'''Quack'''</h3>
| >20
| Kicked out of the Practitioner's League for reasons that were NOT YOUR FAULT, you service the slums. There's a good living in being a mafia doctor.
| This is hardcore Practitioner. You will struggle for supplies. Practitioners who think they can come on your turf need to be taught a lesson.
|-
| [[File:scrungus.png]]<h3>'''Wildcard'''</h3>
| >20
| A pool of special roles that you can't play by other means, ranging from noble tourists, lonesome Caveboy drifters and mercenaries to more in depth roles like barbers and haberdasherers. Most wildcard roles are not listed on this page.
| Follow your instincts and you will do well.
|-
|}
|}

File:Barber.png

2023-09-06T21:33:36Z

Spooky: