Ash 71, 120 Year of the Age of Steel¤
Atop a mountain crag two small figures stood proudly, faced towards the wind their cape and cloak blew behind them against a warm gust. They had almost made it to their destination but the mountains of Daravin’s southern-most border were long and winding The ponies were happy, shaking off the road dirt as Moop surveyed the area, map in hand, outlooking the smooth landscape beneath them from their mountain perch. The far reaching lands were bathed in a pale pink, reflections from the soft morning light that showed from the sunrise only marred by the shadows of mountains on the fields.
Moop glared at this pink sheen unmoved, determining how many more leagues it would take to get to Genteven. All that could be seen in this moment were her eyes which peered out with an intensity as her mind worked to calculate numbers and distance. Satisfied, she rolled up the map with her gloved hands and placed it back in her saddlebag, patting the red haired pony on the nose. Together, she and her sister saddled back up silently, in tandem together, and started down the mountainside pass, warm, gentle wind coddling them all the way. This was the end of the hand drawn pass that another Seeker in CLUGS had offered her of a mountain pass through Daravin’s southern range. She would now be navigating on her own.
Scenery passed them by, mostly desolate, golden colored fields with the occasional grove of trees whose branches seemed to Moop as clawing at the sky. The mountains surrounded them, but they were not the mountains of her home, and found little comfort under the towering, watchful gaze. The pink of the morning turned to grey as the skies became heavy and overcast with rain, the clouds releasing their burden on the duo and their creatures. It was clear to see as the fat droplets fell that the uncovered wagon Joop pulled behind her pony would soon be in trouble lest they find shelter.
Where in this wasteland would shelter be? Looking on her map again this time from the back of her pony Moop saw they were just south of Daravin, if her calculations were correct. Looking for something, anything she found some hope in the form of an X on the map. It was marked on her map “Traveler’s Respite”, as it was written in common. Surely this was some kind of inn or waypoint. Just north west of them, it would be a slight detour but surely in the end it would be the right thing to do.
They spent the next two hours navigating in the pouring down rain. It wasn’t so bad as to not be able to see in front of them, but the steady beat of rain on the landscape and their persons was enough to cause alarm. If they didn’t get to where they needed to be and fast it would spell the end of the journey for their ponies who weren’t made for quite so harshly wet conditions, nor outfitted well enough.
Using the compass from her navigator’s kit Moop was able to keep them on course north west until they came to a dilapidated shack as big as a barn. Hanging askew above the large doors was a faded sign reading “Traveler’s Respite”. They had made it. Moop hopped down from her pony and opened the doors wide so Joop could pull her cart in through the door, then Moop followed suit and lead her pony into the old building as well. Once inside she lit the sconces on the old wooden pillars, revealing that it was essentially a barn/inn mix-- long since abandoned. The bar was covered in dust and picked clean by scavengers, only a few broken mugs remained. The other side of the building was an area for horses to be kept with dirty, dusty hay and above them in the loft looked to be crude beds. There were tables, two broken and one intact, but beside the tables was a large fire ring with some burnt logs and a few extra pieces of wood. It looked long since forgotten, perhaps left here by people like Moop and Joop. Joop set out to get the fire started and Moop busied herself with the ponies.
~~
The fire burnt large and hot with the help from both sisters. Moop had taken off her gloves and rolled up her sleeves, revealing mechanical arms which took the broken pieces of the table and snapped them with ease to be tossed on the fire.
“We’ll outlast the storm.”
Joop said in Kaedic without looking in Moop’s direction. Moop nodded, flexing her mechanical fingers once and enjoying the sound of metallic grinding. When the parts got cold it could hurt the point where metal meets flesh, both Moop and Joop revealed their mechanical parts for sake of warmth-- Joop having a set of metal legs.
“I am hungry, would you like to cook us food?”
Moop proudly proclaimed, looking to her sister with a slight smile.
“Hm, I have seen weasels in this barn, I can set out a snare.”
Joop began her task.
But this wasn’t enough, no. Moop had in that moment created her own plan. What better way to learn about The Mural and The Weave than to employ it out of sight, out of mind from other people? Sure, her sister was here but her sister had no reason to fear Moop’s Mentalism. Indeed, she would hunt down these weasels and use her mind powers to kill them! But how? Mentalism was somewhat of an obsession for the girl, ever since she had been exposed to the magic she hadn’t stopped learning about it.
By now she knew The Neurocrux was the set of runes implanted on her brain allowing her to manipulate space and eventually others. Not only that but eventually alter other’s murals and someday process other’s thoughts. This is what she was most excited for. To be able to see inside another’s mind, if she could get close enough to explorer’s, magicians, the notable and wealthy, she would be able to firstly tell if they are lying and secondly get any information she wanted out of them. This thought in Moop’s head was not malicious, indeed it seemed like quite the game to her. She would be one to find a gnomish city for sure, all she would have to do is ask another the right questions and see their brainscape unfold before her, then be able to pick out the meaty bits and pieces that hold the information she truly seeks.
The next two important points,
‘That would make the weasel hunting task so much easier;’
Moop thought with some chagrin, were the concepts of Tethers and The Mural. While she knew how it worked she wasn’t able to employ this tactic at her current power level. Moop knew in theory she would be able to send out the purple tethers to find the weasels, then access their Mural to find where they were hiding. Tethers were tendrils of ether from the neurocux that connected them to others. The Mural was a visible landscape of other’s minds, animal or human. Once she had found them she planned on using compel and impel to thrash them against the wall, hopefully breaking their neck and killing them. Unsure of the “humanity”, as they called in the larger world, of such an action she would get no enjoyment out of the thing. It was simply a means to an end to practice her craft, not some sick twisted game for fun of breaking weasels necks. Besides. They needed food, there was no enjoyment to be had causing suffering for others, weasel or no.
Joop had set up her trap in a corner with a small piece of cheese for bait. Moop spent some time centering herself and clearing her mind to ready use of the neurocrux, as well to listen for any scratching. Joop had heard the plan earlier and gave her an odd look before speaking,
“You know, instead of bashing their heads against the walls and breaking their necks like a total psycho-- you could, after all, just try to catch them in my snare. If you catch two I can make a soup I think. I’ll go gather snow.”
Moop knew what she meant. Hurtling the weasels into the trap might be better for everyone, she wasn’t looking forward to causing such a gruesome death and it would be good throwing practice for her mental “arm” so to speak. Now the only question was her ability to find the weasels to root them out, catch them with compel, and then throw them with an impel toss into the waiting snare.
Having heard some rustling in the haypile near the ponies while she was meditating, she decided to start there.
TBC.........
Moop glared at this pink sheen unmoved, determining how many more leagues it would take to get to Genteven. All that could be seen in this moment were her eyes which peered out with an intensity as her mind worked to calculate numbers and distance. Satisfied, she rolled up the map with her gloved hands and placed it back in her saddlebag, patting the red haired pony on the nose. Together, she and her sister saddled back up silently, in tandem together, and started down the mountainside pass, warm, gentle wind coddling them all the way. This was the end of the hand drawn pass that another Seeker in CLUGS had offered her of a mountain pass through Daravin’s southern range. She would now be navigating on her own.
Scenery passed them by, mostly desolate, golden colored fields with the occasional grove of trees whose branches seemed to Moop as clawing at the sky. The mountains surrounded them, but they were not the mountains of her home, and found little comfort under the towering, watchful gaze. The pink of the morning turned to grey as the skies became heavy and overcast with rain, the clouds releasing their burden on the duo and their creatures. It was clear to see as the fat droplets fell that the uncovered wagon Joop pulled behind her pony would soon be in trouble lest they find shelter.
Where in this wasteland would shelter be? Looking on her map again this time from the back of her pony Moop saw they were just south of Daravin, if her calculations were correct. Looking for something, anything she found some hope in the form of an X on the map. It was marked on her map “Traveler’s Respite”, as it was written in common. Surely this was some kind of inn or waypoint. Just north west of them, it would be a slight detour but surely in the end it would be the right thing to do.
They spent the next two hours navigating in the pouring down rain. It wasn’t so bad as to not be able to see in front of them, but the steady beat of rain on the landscape and their persons was enough to cause alarm. If they didn’t get to where they needed to be and fast it would spell the end of the journey for their ponies who weren’t made for quite so harshly wet conditions, nor outfitted well enough.
Using the compass from her navigator’s kit Moop was able to keep them on course north west until they came to a dilapidated shack as big as a barn. Hanging askew above the large doors was a faded sign reading “Traveler’s Respite”. They had made it. Moop hopped down from her pony and opened the doors wide so Joop could pull her cart in through the door, then Moop followed suit and lead her pony into the old building as well. Once inside she lit the sconces on the old wooden pillars, revealing that it was essentially a barn/inn mix-- long since abandoned. The bar was covered in dust and picked clean by scavengers, only a few broken mugs remained. The other side of the building was an area for horses to be kept with dirty, dusty hay and above them in the loft looked to be crude beds. There were tables, two broken and one intact, but beside the tables was a large fire ring with some burnt logs and a few extra pieces of wood. It looked long since forgotten, perhaps left here by people like Moop and Joop. Joop set out to get the fire started and Moop busied herself with the ponies.
~~
The fire burnt large and hot with the help from both sisters. Moop had taken off her gloves and rolled up her sleeves, revealing mechanical arms which took the broken pieces of the table and snapped them with ease to be tossed on the fire.
“We’ll outlast the storm.”
Joop said in Kaedic without looking in Moop’s direction. Moop nodded, flexing her mechanical fingers once and enjoying the sound of metallic grinding. When the parts got cold it could hurt the point where metal meets flesh, both Moop and Joop revealed their mechanical parts for sake of warmth-- Joop having a set of metal legs.
“I am hungry, would you like to cook us food?”
Moop proudly proclaimed, looking to her sister with a slight smile.
“Hm, I have seen weasels in this barn, I can set out a snare.”
Joop began her task.
But this wasn’t enough, no. Moop had in that moment created her own plan. What better way to learn about The Mural and The Weave than to employ it out of sight, out of mind from other people? Sure, her sister was here but her sister had no reason to fear Moop’s Mentalism. Indeed, she would hunt down these weasels and use her mind powers to kill them! But how? Mentalism was somewhat of an obsession for the girl, ever since she had been exposed to the magic she hadn’t stopped learning about it.
By now she knew The Neurocrux was the set of runes implanted on her brain allowing her to manipulate space and eventually others. Not only that but eventually alter other’s murals and someday process other’s thoughts. This is what she was most excited for. To be able to see inside another’s mind, if she could get close enough to explorer’s, magicians, the notable and wealthy, she would be able to firstly tell if they are lying and secondly get any information she wanted out of them. This thought in Moop’s head was not malicious, indeed it seemed like quite the game to her. She would be one to find a gnomish city for sure, all she would have to do is ask another the right questions and see their brainscape unfold before her, then be able to pick out the meaty bits and pieces that hold the information she truly seeks.
The next two important points,
‘That would make the weasel hunting task so much easier;’
Moop thought with some chagrin, were the concepts of Tethers and The Mural. While she knew how it worked she wasn’t able to employ this tactic at her current power level. Moop knew in theory she would be able to send out the purple tethers to find the weasels, then access their Mural to find where they were hiding. Tethers were tendrils of ether from the neurocux that connected them to others. The Mural was a visible landscape of other’s minds, animal or human. Once she had found them she planned on using compel and impel to thrash them against the wall, hopefully breaking their neck and killing them. Unsure of the “humanity”, as they called in the larger world, of such an action she would get no enjoyment out of the thing. It was simply a means to an end to practice her craft, not some sick twisted game for fun of breaking weasels necks. Besides. They needed food, there was no enjoyment to be had causing suffering for others, weasel or no.
Joop had set up her trap in a corner with a small piece of cheese for bait. Moop spent some time centering herself and clearing her mind to ready use of the neurocrux, as well to listen for any scratching. Joop had heard the plan earlier and gave her an odd look before speaking,
“You know, instead of bashing their heads against the walls and breaking their necks like a total psycho-- you could, after all, just try to catch them in my snare. If you catch two I can make a soup I think. I’ll go gather snow.”
Moop knew what she meant. Hurtling the weasels into the trap might be better for everyone, she wasn’t looking forward to causing such a gruesome death and it would be good throwing practice for her mental “arm” so to speak. Now the only question was her ability to find the weasels to root them out, catch them with compel, and then throw them with an impel toss into the waiting snare.
Having heard some rustling in the haypile near the ponies while she was meditating, she decided to start there.
TBC.........
