Outpost 111 (Location)

## Outpost 111 - 'Respite'

* ***"Somewhere, always, against all, there is respite.'"*** - Unknown

## Overview

Creation in motion, a respite spiked upon the clutch between rebirth and corroded decay. **Outpost 111** is an ancient, malformed beacon of looming sanctuary, drifting in and out of locations, occupiers, and reality itself. A vast, moderately decrepit series of outposts and life-stations interlinked betwixt countless, evershifting clumps of asteroids and man-made terrafill. Rockfaces from across the stars occasionally drift in and out of the rivers of gravity, footholds of stonework blooming and wilting, assuring an unmappable outer shell of momentum and unsure foundation. Still, in spite of the nature of the cluster, settlers drift in from every inch of the void-blanket, taking turns in the cycle, making their mark within the sphere of residence for however long it allows.

Centerpiecing the moonrock discus sits a skeleton of amorphous, breathing **Deepstone**,- a bunker of ancient materium and forgotten, gnawing memories. A living, sifting, warped display of the greatest lie - Security. Permanence. Stability. Fables, as real and sacred as the misremembered tales lining it’s shell. A thousand fingerprints have laid graffiti across the sanctum's visage, in paint, engraved in stone, etched into steels and ceramics. Stories, of prospectors long passed, room for more writings for future oncomers constructing themselves with the sway of Eldritch winds.

This central piece of the safehaven seems to be one of the few landmarks consistently within view, untampered as much as one could be given it's location. Resting high upon it's mound of meteorite, it overlooks the remainder of the warping asteroid field,- before chiseling downward, carved deep into the spacestone. Proudly proclaimed by it's rudimentary recoloring comes the shrine's namesake, large, squared lettering branding the brutalist bunker-turned-bar as '**OUTPOST - 111**', the onion of paint inches thick with generations of maintenance.

The speakeasy itself, the 'capital' of the desolate clump of islands, is actually quite rustic. Clearly composed of simple, antiquated architecture, the bunker remains surprisingly resilient,- most likely in thanks to the small faction of dedicated '**Keepers**' that tend to services required. It layers four stories deep, with a large 'underbelly' constructed below the skirt of the asteroid it encompasses, as well as a half-crescent rooftop overlook. Each of the levels house assortments of accommodations, mostly consisting of 'lounging' furniture, alongside the occasional merchant set up for the time. The primary attraction, however, seems to be the watering hole residing in the undertow, a local favorite of passing mercenaries and scholars alike.

A cargo-lock sits as basement to the bar, below that, entrance to the aforementioned undercarriage. This addition to the meteor's façade usually acts as additional merchant-space, storage, or ship parking for usuals to the residence.

Outpost-111, though it's swayed in the past, maintains no loyalty to any faction in the current day. While the tenders and guards stay in place to deter any unruly opposition from them directly, they're much more keen to pry bullets out of the walls than decide someone's fate. Some believe the Outpost is the only true beacon of neutrality left.