The Fluorine Campaign

You awaken. The last thing you remember was a terrible accident. You couldn't POSSIBLY have survived! And yet, here you are! You suddenly realize that HERE is a very strange place. Your vision is hazy and grey, your breathing laboured. There are walls all around you, and CLOSE! No, wait, it is a single wall. You are in a cylinder of some sort, confined. A prisonner?! Just what is going on? It is getting harder to breath. Something is wrong. VERY wrong! You pummel the wall with your fists. Suddenly, the glass breaks. You are free! But now you roll on the floor, retching out fluid from your lungs. You can't breath! You pannic, but there is nothing to be done and no one to help you. You begin to feel pain in your chest as the dry air sears your lungs. You are breathing! Time passes. A minute, ten, an hour, who knows. You find the strength to crawl to your feet and you stand for the first time in.... how long? You now take in your surroundings. A pale, grey light tumbles from above. You look at your former prison. You see a glass tube with metal end plates, or rather that is what it once was. There are other tubes nearby. Some are intact, others shattered. Some are standing upright, but most are lying on the ground, sprinkled randomly as far as you can see You hear a noise. You know immediately what it is, for you remember your own heaving sobs. You walk through the evaporating slime that once encased your body, towards the sound. Only now do you realize that you are naked. Well, not quite - there IS that disk stuck to your stomach. What the HELL is going on? You reach the poor wretch, still coughing up liquid. He too is naked, with a disk on his torso. He croaks at you. Japanese, Korean, Chinese. Heck, you can't understand him! You talk to him in Spanish and Portugese, but get no reply. You look around his cylinder and see the remains of another, much older one. It was broken long ago, that's for sure, but there is no dust to speak of. You are pretty sure its ancient because of the descicated corpse lying within the crushed glass. Your 'friend' is walking away. Let him. What is good is he to you! You reach into the crushed cylinder and grab a leg. Or maybe it's an arm. You pull. It comes out fairly easily. You brush of the former fleash, the ancient muscles. Now, for the first time since this nightmare began, you feel a little confident. Because as soon as you find the guy who did this to you, you're going to bash in his skull with this bone!

Welcome to the Fluorine Campaign...