Ash 71 120 Year of the Age of Steel¤
PREVIUOISULY.........
The hay piles reached nearly six foot high, that was almost double Moop’s body size. They towered over her and from the bright campfire they lit ugly shadows as the gnome looked for weasels. She hadn’t noticed at first the sheer amount of cobwebs in this barn, she was surprised. Many spiders clung from the ceiling, hanging down with a threat and she could see wrapped in their web more than a few weasel dinners. The spiders were bigger than the size of her hand, brown, hairy, with spindly legs.
Clutching her staff in one hand and a torch in another she regarded them with the torch held high. In the flickering light their beady eyes glared at her and they gnashed their maw, rearing from where they dangled in her direction. She was small, but they would never make her their dinner. While she was focused above her, fixated on the large spiders and horrified at the disgusting mess of it all, one of the more brave ones came skittering towards her and she used the butt of her staff to squash it before it reached her flesh. The splatter it made disgusted Moop so much she backed away, dry heaving, deciding then maybe they would need to move on.
That was when she saw it, a weasel. Its tiny, furry face poked out from a hay pile either brave or stupid to be so close to the cobwebs. This was her chance, not hesitating she stuffed her staff into her armpit and set the torch down on the dirt floor, then pressed a finger to her temple while she accessed her neurocrux and ultimately The Weave. Using her other fingers, just two, pointing outwards to direct the attention of the compel she was about to commit.
The focus was directed around the weasel which sniffed the purple crystalline energy that shimmered and sputtered around its head. Drawing her outstretched two fingers towards herself she lifted the confused weasel from its hay pile and suspended it in the air, it drew towards her at a slow pace. Accessing the Weave, a supernatural purple again graced around the weasel that was beginning to scream and kick its feet, she tapped her forehead once while simultaneously flicking her outstretched wrist away from herself and sent the weasel flying.
The snare trap was missed completely as descending from on high a massive spider, forty pounds heavy at the least, greedily snatched the sprawling weasel from midair and began consuming it. Moop felt exerted from even that short use of Mentalism, her mouth was dry and her head was groggy, as if she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Smacking herself in the face to wake up she readied herself against the spider adversary, disturbed deeply at witnessing the consumption of the weasel. From behind the hay piles Moop and her villain could not be seen, the ponies nor her dear twin sister did not stir. It was just she and the spider for now, armed with her staff and a torch she took on the beast which was nearly half her own size.
It reared up first and she used the end of her staff like a ram, jamming the butt between the creatures many, hateful eyes. Stabbing at it afterwards with the torch in a likewise fashion missed, it had lept back making a horrible, angry, metallic chortling. This was in the end enough to alert Joop, who came running to her sister’s aide. Moop’s twin paused for a second in awe at the massive, thick webs that stood behind Moop, then loosened a bolt at the foe from her hand crossbow. It missed.
With her sister at her side Moop began to giggle. It started out uncontrollable at first and then was so loud that she had to cover her mouth and in the end threw her head back with laughter. Joop elbowed the her twin in the ribs and notched another bolt, firing it again at the beast, the arrow this time stuck into one of the fangs, causing white ooze to spill forth from the wound. Moop wasn’t sure what was so funny, perhaps it was just better than screaming. The inside of this barn was disgusting, crawling with nasty weasels and giant spiders. No wonder the place lay deserted. Something about the whole situation seemed a tad ludacris and she let out one last laugh before slamming down with an overhead swing onto the spider's midsection, a blow with her quarterstaff.
Laughter was cut short as the blow caused one of the spider’s legs to break apart and more white, frothing ooze to spill out on the dirt floor. Joop was tugging Moop away while Moop was headed forwards to the spider with the butt of her staff again beating it in the head, but the spider had enough of the games. Wounded and bleeding it let out a shrill cry which shook the webs around Moop and Joop. There was a pause as Moop and Joop looked at each other, but before they were able to act a hissing noise could be heard from all around them.
The small spiders began to swarm them, they were smashing the smallest ones and batting the bigger ones away. The one they had been fighting had slunk away for now and as quickly as they could they ran from behind the hay piles and to the ponies. Joop threw open the barn doors to thankfully, a clear day yet again. The sun was shining on the swet ground, reflecting into the bar and lighting up the dank spider hole. As the two rode out of the building as hastily as possible, still batting spiders off of them, they could see the shadow of something unholy large looming in the loft where the beds were. Its movements kicked from the loft a skeleton clad in chainmail armor. They wasted no further time leaving the Traveler’s Respite.
Without their weasel dinner Moop was hungry, but more desperately she felt like she needed a bath. It was too cold right now to apply any of her rose water to freshen up, she felt itchy all over.
‘What a foul, disgusting, filthy place that was. I will never go back there again!’
She thought with a shudder.
Now with even more haste than before they got their bearings and headed towards Genteven. They were about six hours away. A moment was spent worrying for the horses but luckily the sun of the day was enough to melt the warm the bones. Unfortunately Moop was not the brightest navigator on this day and what was supposed to be a sundown touch down in Genteven was met with more sprawling tree groves and fields. They gathered what they could to make a fire and suffered with the ponies that night, eating their rations of hard tack and pemmican. Within their luck, it did not rain.
~~~
The next day was spent wandering left and right through increasingly strange terrain. It was unlike anything Moop had ever seen. Cactus, palms, and other arid tropical plants thrived in the landscape. It was warm here, she no longer bothered with her cloak and instead donned only her armor with her mechanical arms exposed. She would indeed enjoy wearing her toga, but unfortunately travel demanded differently from her. The gnome woman looked to her map, if they were on course they would reach Genteven soon enough. She found she was reading her map incorrectly the day before. The mountains had gone from sight now and Moop was sure they were on the right track. It would be many more days worth of travel but Genteven bound, they would surely get there.
The day came and went, night came again. The stars sat in their vestige in the sky, unmoving and casting their gaze on the world as the two women sat around a campfire. Joop had prepared a dinner of rabbit and dill for them and they ate silently, both lost in their own thoughts. When finished with her dinner Moop took to a quick bath with her scented vinegar. Just enough to get the dirt off and make her smell nice. Traveling was dirty work. It wouldn’t do to have filth all over a person if they wanted to think with a clear mind. In fact, Moop thought her mind never felt clearer, it was a strange thing to feel a great welling loss in your chest, a longing for home-- while at the same time experiencing great euphoria. This lust for something greater than what you know, feeling on the cusp of greatness and glory for not just herself but her people as a whole. Joop sang a tune from their homeland of Dagrun, one of the monsters in Dunes that was jaunty even within its dreadfulness. They both dearly missed the caverns of their home, but their task was simple: find the other gnomes. And they would.
Clutching her staff in one hand and a torch in another she regarded them with the torch held high. In the flickering light their beady eyes glared at her and they gnashed their maw, rearing from where they dangled in her direction. She was small, but they would never make her their dinner. While she was focused above her, fixated on the large spiders and horrified at the disgusting mess of it all, one of the more brave ones came skittering towards her and she used the butt of her staff to squash it before it reached her flesh. The splatter it made disgusted Moop so much she backed away, dry heaving, deciding then maybe they would need to move on.
That was when she saw it, a weasel. Its tiny, furry face poked out from a hay pile either brave or stupid to be so close to the cobwebs. This was her chance, not hesitating she stuffed her staff into her armpit and set the torch down on the dirt floor, then pressed a finger to her temple while she accessed her neurocrux and ultimately The Weave. Using her other fingers, just two, pointing outwards to direct the attention of the compel she was about to commit.
The focus was directed around the weasel which sniffed the purple crystalline energy that shimmered and sputtered around its head. Drawing her outstretched two fingers towards herself she lifted the confused weasel from its hay pile and suspended it in the air, it drew towards her at a slow pace. Accessing the Weave, a supernatural purple again graced around the weasel that was beginning to scream and kick its feet, she tapped her forehead once while simultaneously flicking her outstretched wrist away from herself and sent the weasel flying.
The snare trap was missed completely as descending from on high a massive spider, forty pounds heavy at the least, greedily snatched the sprawling weasel from midair and began consuming it. Moop felt exerted from even that short use of Mentalism, her mouth was dry and her head was groggy, as if she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Smacking herself in the face to wake up she readied herself against the spider adversary, disturbed deeply at witnessing the consumption of the weasel. From behind the hay piles Moop and her villain could not be seen, the ponies nor her dear twin sister did not stir. It was just she and the spider for now, armed with her staff and a torch she took on the beast which was nearly half her own size.
It reared up first and she used the end of her staff like a ram, jamming the butt between the creatures many, hateful eyes. Stabbing at it afterwards with the torch in a likewise fashion missed, it had lept back making a horrible, angry, metallic chortling. This was in the end enough to alert Joop, who came running to her sister’s aide. Moop’s twin paused for a second in awe at the massive, thick webs that stood behind Moop, then loosened a bolt at the foe from her hand crossbow. It missed.
With her sister at her side Moop began to giggle. It started out uncontrollable at first and then was so loud that she had to cover her mouth and in the end threw her head back with laughter. Joop elbowed the her twin in the ribs and notched another bolt, firing it again at the beast, the arrow this time stuck into one of the fangs, causing white ooze to spill forth from the wound. Moop wasn’t sure what was so funny, perhaps it was just better than screaming. The inside of this barn was disgusting, crawling with nasty weasels and giant spiders. No wonder the place lay deserted. Something about the whole situation seemed a tad ludacris and she let out one last laugh before slamming down with an overhead swing onto the spider's midsection, a blow with her quarterstaff.
Laughter was cut short as the blow caused one of the spider’s legs to break apart and more white, frothing ooze to spill out on the dirt floor. Joop was tugging Moop away while Moop was headed forwards to the spider with the butt of her staff again beating it in the head, but the spider had enough of the games. Wounded and bleeding it let out a shrill cry which shook the webs around Moop and Joop. There was a pause as Moop and Joop looked at each other, but before they were able to act a hissing noise could be heard from all around them.
The small spiders began to swarm them, they were smashing the smallest ones and batting the bigger ones away. The one they had been fighting had slunk away for now and as quickly as they could they ran from behind the hay piles and to the ponies. Joop threw open the barn doors to thankfully, a clear day yet again. The sun was shining on the swet ground, reflecting into the bar and lighting up the dank spider hole. As the two rode out of the building as hastily as possible, still batting spiders off of them, they could see the shadow of something unholy large looming in the loft where the beds were. Its movements kicked from the loft a skeleton clad in chainmail armor. They wasted no further time leaving the Traveler’s Respite.
Without their weasel dinner Moop was hungry, but more desperately she felt like she needed a bath. It was too cold right now to apply any of her rose water to freshen up, she felt itchy all over.
‘What a foul, disgusting, filthy place that was. I will never go back there again!’
She thought with a shudder.
Now with even more haste than before they got their bearings and headed towards Genteven. They were about six hours away. A moment was spent worrying for the horses but luckily the sun of the day was enough to melt the warm the bones. Unfortunately Moop was not the brightest navigator on this day and what was supposed to be a sundown touch down in Genteven was met with more sprawling tree groves and fields. They gathered what they could to make a fire and suffered with the ponies that night, eating their rations of hard tack and pemmican. Within their luck, it did not rain.
~~~
The next day was spent wandering left and right through increasingly strange terrain. It was unlike anything Moop had ever seen. Cactus, palms, and other arid tropical plants thrived in the landscape. It was warm here, she no longer bothered with her cloak and instead donned only her armor with her mechanical arms exposed. She would indeed enjoy wearing her toga, but unfortunately travel demanded differently from her. The gnome woman looked to her map, if they were on course they would reach Genteven soon enough. She found she was reading her map incorrectly the day before. The mountains had gone from sight now and Moop was sure they were on the right track. It would be many more days worth of travel but Genteven bound, they would surely get there.
The day came and went, night came again. The stars sat in their vestige in the sky, unmoving and casting their gaze on the world as the two women sat around a campfire. Joop had prepared a dinner of rabbit and dill for them and they ate silently, both lost in their own thoughts. When finished with her dinner Moop took to a quick bath with her scented vinegar. Just enough to get the dirt off and make her smell nice. Traveling was dirty work. It wouldn’t do to have filth all over a person if they wanted to think with a clear mind. In fact, Moop thought her mind never felt clearer, it was a strange thing to feel a great welling loss in your chest, a longing for home-- while at the same time experiencing great euphoria. This lust for something greater than what you know, feeling on the cusp of greatness and glory for not just herself but her people as a whole. Joop sang a tune from their homeland of Dagrun, one of the monsters in Dunes that was jaunty even within its dreadfulness. They both dearly missed the caverns of their home, but their task was simple: find the other gnomes. And they would.
