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#35 Многоязычный 

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Azazor's logbook

I resolved to send to the New Lands all my reports written between our departure from Fort Beacon and the time we left the Diplomatic Outpost. On O'Teelo's advice, I gave them to a trusted Ranger who was to go to the Halt. Let's hope everything goes well. The way through the Sea of Wood is much more risky. At worst, too bad if the package gets lost. All the information we collected is in my head and I swear to come back alive to share it one day.

So, as already mentioned in my previous report, we have three artifacts to deliver to the Marauders settled near the Wide Puddle in the south. They are supposed to be used to build a zinuakeen in the area. The Marauders are settled below some cliff. But a priori, we will not find there neither elevator nor staircase. So it will be climbing, sweating and elbow grease. If they have established themselves at the bottom, without any practical means of descending, this can only mean one thing: that the region is very dangerous and that this is a means of defence for them.

I will try to describe as best I can these artifacts that make me really uncomfortable. First of all, we can see right away that they are not homin creations. They look like some kind of green and orange dragon scales, on which are painted or maybe engraved lines that cross and crisscross. Inlaid on the scales are black square, round or rectangular things and some kind of shiny, solid, cold drips that connect them to the scales. Eeri talks about jewels. To me, they look like black pustules of an unspeakable creature oozing a gray, shiny liquid that would have solidified. There are also some symbols on it. Letters, numbers, but without any meaning. Symbols that breathe life like those of the Kamis' drills? But there is nothing kami about them. Just touching this thing disgusts me. At least I didn't see any traces of goo on it. I'll write down all the symbols on a separate page and try to draw the biggest artifact, to give you an idea. But you know my drawing skills…

Drawing of an artifact part.


We weren't told the name of this thing, O'Teelo just calling it 'trinket'. In any case, it's clearly Karavan produced to me. I don't imagine the Marauders creating these kinds of artifacts. I'll have to find out more about the connection between Marauders and Karas. In the New Lands, there are sometimes alliances of circumstance during outpost battles. One can imagine that it goes the same here. The Karavan provides the technology to make zinuakeens in exchange for resources harvested by the Marauders. A rumor I had once heard spoke of dissidents from the Karavan. Eeri may know more about this. In short, all this reinforces the hypothesis of a mechanical Fyrak of the Karavan whose scales would be this kind of artifact, even if in this case it is not a dragon but a zinuakeen.


To change topic, let me briefly describe the desert we are traveling through. At first sight, there is no difference with the imperial desert. Same dunes, same sawdust, same plants, maybe a little bit hotter. Olash, olansis, savaniels, botogas which help us not to draw too much in our water stock. We haven't seen any bothaya yet. I presume that the relative proximity of the Wide Puddle allows a hydration of the subsoils which prevents its appearance. But I don't know anymore, I am probably confusing with another plant. I should have listened more carefully in botany classes at the Academy. We did not find, for now, no papalexi on our way either. Nor any loojine either. It seems that they are of the same family. Maybe the one explains the other… Regarding the fauna, for the moment we have only crossed varinxes in the distance. According to the Marauders, we should not cross Fraiders, not passing on their territory. That seems to displease Eeri, but let her be reassured, it will be for the way back, in some years.
Par ailleurs, j'ai stocké dans une bourse une petite partie de sciure pour analyse ultérieure, quand je rentrerai. Si le maitre xylologue Ulyton Meros accepte de se pencher dessus, on aura peut être une surprise.
In addition, I have stored a sample of sawdust in a bag for later analysis, when I will return. If the master xylologist Ulyton Meros agrees to look at it, we might have a surprise.
Oh yes, an interesting point to note: the day star is much higher than in the New Lands. This is a fact. I could measure it with the sextant. I note all my measurements on a separate page. By estimating the number of kilometers traveled to the East, I think we can give an estimate of the curvature of Atys. But I'm not good at calculations, so I'll leave that to the Academy masters when I return. Could the fact that it is a bit warmer be due to the fact that the rays are less oblique than in the New Lands? The further we progress on the route, the more I discover, but the more I ask myself new questions too. The search for the Truth is an endless path.

We should reach the meeting point in a few days. Hoping not to be devoured by a varinx by then…

Azazor's logbook

What had to happen happened. This morning, we met a group of four homins accompanied by a varinx. ramèch! A pet varinx! A magnificent beast, as high as a homin. A little like Aen's ones at home. Except that they were obviously not Marauders. They didn't even introduce themselves. They are not Atakorums in any case, but surely an umpteenth tribe of desert nomads. They demanded that we leave them all we were carrying and the mektoub in exchange for our lives. We tried to negotiate some meat for them and their varinx, but nothing to do, it was all our stuff if we didn't want to, and I quote: "… end up in Razor's stomach". I assumed that was the name of the varinx. Still, we could not afford to give them the object of our quest. Our Honor was at stake. So for the first time since we left Silan, we had to fight against homins to save our lives.
Result: we killed two of them and the varinx, the two others ran away. Well… Eeri killed the varinx, a homin and wounded another one seriously. I only finished off the latter, getting in the process a nice gash on my right thigh when a spike managed to pierce the Marauder armor at a joint. If it had not been for Eeri, it would have been my thorax it would have pierced. She's a real fury when she fights, this one. I had seen her do it before in the New Lands. But never with such rage and determination. She looked like a goddess of war. Lopyrèch had warned me, this homina is dangerous. Fortunately, I am her friend. At least, I guess so.

Anyway, today I killed a homin. Definitely, I mean. It's not the same thing I have been used to, not at all. I hadn't noticed it until then, but when you kill someone, usually, you always know deep down that it's not, or rarely is, a real killing. When I plunged my axe into my enemy's skull, I knew he would never rise again. It was as if I had sucked out his soul. I felt dirty. It reminded me of Celiakos Lyan Cexius dying of a heart attack after he got mad at me. At the time, I felt some guilt. Except that this time I can't be comforted by telling myself that the homin was very old and that his time had come. I am responsible for the axe blow that struck him down. I thought of our ancestors who, in battle, have had to experience this many times.

Everything gets mixed up in my head, I have a lot of contradictory thoughts. It's really a different relationship to life.
How weak we have become because of the protection of the Powers! How we have lost all this, I would say, philosophical aspect! All warriors, and I first, have been wrong from the beginning. Killing is not a harmless thing. That gives a real force that can drive you crazy. This force has been taken away from us by the resurrection the Powers offer us. These now have this force. And I am not sure that this is necessarily a good thing.

Azazor's logbook

It's definitely the law of series. Today, as we were moving south, I had a fall in a crevasse. A nice fall of about ten meters. It was however not indicated that there are crevasses in the area. It's supposed to be farther, towards the east. In short, we spent one hour so that Eeri manages to pull me up with a rope and the mektoub. Supposedly I was too heavy. It must be the bag, it is loaded with leather of varinx, that weighs its weight. We are going to have to be more careful. As much we have no difficulty to look after ourselves here, contrary to the Sea of Wood, but we are not immune to mortal wounds. If there are crevasses of ten meters deep, one can imagine that there are much deeper ones. I may be tough, but I'm not unbreakable.

Edited 3 times | Last edited by Fyrenor (2 года назад)

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#36 Многоязычный 

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"Eeri stopped pulling on the rope and waved the mektoub to stop too. Then she sat down, ignoring the moans that echoed off the sides of the rift, for a moment.

"Stop gesticulating!!" she finally shouted.
"But what the hell are you doing? Pull me up!"
"The rope is stuck, don't move. I can handle it."

Eeri stood still, one eye on the axe she had laid on the ground earlier, as she hurriedly took out a rope to rescue the Fyros.

"All it would take is one sharp blow," she muttered. "Like with the frippos."

Leave him there? Azazor had nearly gotten them killed.

Hesitation. In combat, one never hesitates. You strike where you know the enemy will be hurt. But no. He, with a hatchet in his hand, simply parries the blows, without counterattacking.

Against a pike, it's double or nothing. Armed with a hatchet, one can take advantage of the length of the opponent's weapon and the time lapse of inertia after the attack to throw a blow where it hurts. In this case, at the belt or at the neck. Twice Aza had the opportunity to strike. But he settled for waiting, giving his opponents the seconds they needed to figure out his moves. Hell of a Fyrak of ramèch, I don't like hitting homins from behind. But here, it was either that or let Azazor get pierced once more.

The remaining two, presumably younger, chose to ran off when they saw the second homin collapse. This is not a good sign, as it means that if they have been able to go and alert their tribe we will end up with some other homins on our backs. If Azazor could have get rid of his opponent alone, I could have taken out the other two. A well-placed axe blow for the first, then the chase of the other before finishing him with the dagger. But no, I had to turn around to save Azazor. What a waste.

And when I told him that we should expect them to bring back their tribe… He shut up, but that must have panicked him, and now he doesn't look where he's stepping. If he does it again, where we're going, I'm going to get killed for sure. So why not leave him there? But no, I'll go crazy if I go on alone. Two of us got here, two of us have to go on. And if the rope has to break… Well, a sharp blow… No, still. But…

"What the hell are you playing at???"

The bellowing of the Fyros brought Eeri out of her thoughts. She stood up with a sigh, gave Run-dun's ass a big pat, and started pulling on the rope again.

"It's coming, it's coming. You weigh your weight, you know…"

Edited 2 times | Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад) | Причина: Traduction en Anglais par Nilstilar / English Translation by Nilstilar

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"

#37 Многоязычный 

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A few days later, the two homins were still walking a few meters away from the precipice, in order to keep a good view on this piece of desert, below. The landscape was changing little by little, becoming more rolling, as if roots under the ground were pushing and sculpting the sawdust. In the distance, what O'teelo had called "Umawaka" appeared in the mist: an impassable mountain range, a tangle of gigantic roots that delimited this desert to the south, and which, if one believed the map of the Clan leader, extended up to the Citadel. With each step they took, this mountain range seemed to grow more and more gigantic, as if it had emerged from the bowels of Atys. In some places, sharp, bare peaks of bark loomed up the sky. In others, they were covered with vegetation, so much so that they wondered if they were not the beginnings of a canopy in the making.

The meeting point could not be far away, as she had described it as near that mountain below. They stopped for a moment to scan the horizon and the desert, hoping to make out a village or any trace of homin life. Eeri came dangerously close to the edge, to observe the cliff face they were overlooking.

"Azazor?"
"Hmmm?"
"You think too much. If this is going to happen again, think that it's either them or us."
"I wasn't prepared to fight. Not this way."
"Next time, hit. Block, and hit. Where it hurts, where you would not like to be hit."
"All right, that's all right, I know."
"The surprise, the speed. Them, if they fight, they know that it is at the risk of their life. They won't hesitate."
"But the counter-attack implies taking risks. It was okay at home, but here... How did you stay so damn cold?"
"For years I've been working hard to learn to fight in a way so that I don't have to call on the Powers. With the idea that maybe one day Trytonists would manage to bring freedom to the hominity. Keeping a cold and analytical mind is the first thing."
"Do you still believe in it? Freedom?"

The Fyrossa straightened up and took a few steps away from the edge.

"No, I don't anymore. I have no hope anymore for the nations. Now I think it's enough to get away. Or become a Ranger... Or a Marauder. Maybe it's the same thing. But freedom, no. That doesn't exist, even here."

Azazor hesitated for a moment:

"But then, you don't believe in anything anymore...?"
"I believe in survival. I believe that if you jeopardize this journey again, I will leave you in the lurch and go on alone."
"You what???"
"But I like you nonetheless. I couldn't have made it this far on my own."
"Hrmf... Yeah. akep."
"And the trouble with being alone is that you don't have no more anyone to blame for the shit you do."

After these words, Eeri sat down with a smile.

"Come on, relax. I've got a proposition for you, about the delivery."

Azazor did not move, keeping scanning the horizon.

"I'm listening."
"Given the cliff, if there is no path, we can't risk our mektoubs."
"So you want to go down alone. I knew you'd suggest that."
"It's less risky."
"What if you don't come back?"
"Or you can go down and I'll keep the mektoubs. That's OK with me too."

Azazor grunted something unintelligible, his eyes still fixed on the distance. Eeri added a layer, grumbling:

"But I've seen your talent for climbing..."
"We'll talk about it when we find out where to climb down," answered Azazor, putting his bag back on his shoulders.
"You're right. Let's not dawdle."

The two Fyros set off again, heading south, without even glancing behind them to see if they were being followed or not. The evening wind was starting to blow, but they were still able to walk for a few hours.

Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад) | Причина: Traduction en Anglais par Nilstilar / English Translation by Nilstilar

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"

#38 Многоязычный 

Многоязычный | English | Français
In front of the desert that appears before him, Azazor can't help but have a whiff of nostalgia for his own, the one he left years ago. The sawdust seems coarser here, or is it his memories that are getting muddled? The wind, coming from the east, seems to rush to the foot of the cliff, causing the agitation of the two mektoubs tied not far away. Their mooings seem to answer the whistling of the wind in a kind of mournful lament. He has never felt melancholy in his own desert. But here, everything is different. At the same time so far from his relatives, and so close to his ancestors.

It has been three days since Eeri left. Three days since he saw her abseiling down the cliff, clinging to a rope whose attachment to a root sticking out of the sawdust she took care to check before harnessing herself to it. It was as if she had been doing this her life long. Will she come back? Are the Marauders in this clan as friendly as those in the Diplomatic Outpost? Actually, "friendly" is a bit of a strong word. Let's say civilized. With a certain sense of honor. There is no reason for Eeri to be badly received. Doesn't she bring them the "trinkets" necessary for the functioning of their zinuakeen?

Their camp has been set up in the wreckage of a large Karavan ship. This one, as seen from here, is well over fifty meters long. How was it destroyed? It's hard to say. Would kitins be able of such a destruction? Or the Kamis? Besides, the wreck, as far as he can see, must date from the first Great Swarming. Part of it seems to be buried in sawdust, or rather covered by it. From afar, the carcass of the vessel seems quite dark. He is unable to recognize any of the ships that can be seen in the New Lands. Perhaps it is an old model, formerly used in the Old Lands and whose specimens are now all crushed into ruins, for some obscure reason. After the wreckage north of Fort Beacon, from which the Rangers retrieved what they needed to build the lighthouse's lighting system, this is the second Karavan ship ruin he comes across, and the first he sees with his own eyes. Here, the Karavan seems very fragile, as if in decay. Besides, he hasn't heard of the Kamis either. It seems that the Powers have deserted these places. Only the homins survive, reappropriating the ruins of the past, building new cities, not losing hope. He had decidedly misjudged the Marauders. At least those living here.

Eeri must be down there with them now, probably in one of the rooms of the ship rearranged as a living space, sipping a baba or slurping a piece of fire-roasted varinx. Maybe they're laughing, thinking how lucky they are to have run into her, that she'll teach them how to cook meat, that they need a butcher, that she could stay… He wouldn't even blame her doing so. He knows that it will happen. He has seen the look in her eyes when she talked about these homins, about the harshness of life here. She likes that. Here, though she denies it, she would at last feel free. This is the life she has always dreamt of. So why should she continue to bother with a fat, clumsy Fyros who can't take down a mere bandit? He doesn't deserve her..

Azazor observes the dunes behind him. Dunes that are already very dark, standing out like silhouettes against the purple sky. That's where they come from. If they have been followed, that's where the attack will come from. For three days he's been dreading the possibility that they'll fall on him. If that were to happen, he would not fight and would go down the rope, leaving the mektoubs. In the past, he would have stayed to fight, shouting cal i selak at the top of his lungs, banging his hatchet against his shield, convinced he was an exceptional warrior, sure he could kill Fyrak itself, because the fear of death was not yet part of his conceptions. But not anymore. Since the Titus episode, and especially since his fight with those bandits, he knows what dying means. And that haunts him. You think you're brave, but you don't know what it is until you're actually near death. What he hopes is that one day he too will be able to face death, to defy it by hitting his shield. Like Eeri… Eeri who will not return. For he has nothing left for himself. Not even the respect of the Truth. And she knows it now, since he told her his secret, his lie, which he has been carrying like a burden for decades…

Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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#39 Многоязычный 

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Five days earlier, as Eeri and Azazor stopped in the shade of a dune to eat their lunch ration and take a break…

"Eeri, I have to confess something to you."

The Fyrossa looks up from his grilled yubo paw, looking laughing.

"What? Your parents were Matis?"
"I'm serious."
"Oh… Come on, I'm listening."

The Fyros takes a deep breath, as if he was about to reveal some dark secrets.

"I lied… once.
"Hahaha, just once? Well, that's okay then, exclaims the Fyrossa, relieved."
"No, that was a big lie."
"What do you mean?"
"I made someone believe that I was his father."

Eeri remains silent, her eyes wide open.

"There was this little Trykera, found by Rangers in Silan. Galdor, a friend of my parents and who raised me after my father's death, took her in and raised her as his daughter. When I learned of her existence, when she was about ten years old, I had an idea.

The Fyrossa reels in her hand, as if to tell the Fyros to continue.

"I thought to myself that at that age, one was easily manipulated. So with Galdor, we started to tell a completely different story. He thanks to his daily contact with her and I through letters I sent her. A story claiming I was her real father, but that I couldn't raise her because I was too busy. And that her mother had been killed by Matis. That the Empire was the most beautiful, the greatest.
"A nice indoctrination…
"That's it.
"And what did this Trykera become?
"I gave her a mission when she reached sixteen. To infiltrate the Kingdom and give me information.

Eeri raises her eyebrows in surprise.

"A spy of some sort?"
"Yes. I didn't think she would do so well. Before we left, she had managed to become a subject of the kingdom and was considering becoming a servant to a noble house."
"You mean she's still spying?"
"Yep, at least when I left she was. I told her to pass on her future reports to Naveruss."
"'Big thighs' knows about this? Well…"
"The worst part is that she still thinks I'm her father. I betrayed a fundamental pillar of the Empire by lying to her."
"If the truth were really the value of the Fyros Empire, it would have collapsed by now. Sometimes the important thing is just to believe in something. The truth, I gave up long ago."

With that, Eeri looks thoughtful and says nothing more, just rolling the half-gnawed yubo thigh between her fingers. She too would have things to confess. The Fyros notices this and looks at her with insistence.

"Do you have something to tell me? I can feel you worrying."
"dey, I was just thinking about our old home," lies the Fyrossa.
"Ah…"

Azazor stirs the sawdust on the floor with his foot. He too thinks a lot about his old home.

"So, did you ever feel like telling your spy the truth?"
"Yes, several times I thought I should tell her. But each time, she gave me good information. I told myself that if I revealed the masquerade, she would take it badly and stop doing the job. A job she's good at, too."
"Oh, you think she's going to take it the wrong way if you tell her that the guy she thinks is her father for years is actually an imposter who's manipulating her? I don't know why you're saying that…"
"All right, stop with the irony. I have a guilty enough conscience as it is. The worst thing is if I tell her and she starts talking…"
"What are you afraid of? That the Matis would be angry with you? I reassure you, it is already the case. You all the same insulted the king's mother in front of her son on the day of her funeral. So, them learning that you tried to spy on them…"
"Mm, yeah…"

Azazor remains pensive for a few moments, keeping his eyes lowered towards the sawdust. Shame gnaws at him, the lie being for him like a stain. Finally, after a silent moment, he raises his head and looks Eeri straight in the eyes.

"If I die, will you tell her?"
"That you are not her father?"
"ney. Her name is Be'Lauren."
"ney, count on me. But you'll tell her yourself, because you're not gonna die."
"If you say so…"

Yes, he'll tell her everything. Whatever Eeri says, the truth is sacred. Without it, the Fyros people can only let themselves die.

Edited 3 times | Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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#40 Многоязычный 

Многоязычный | [English] | Français
Eeri stuck her pickaxe into a piece of bark that was sticking out of the sawdust and pulled herself up, once again. For several hours she had been climbing, losing hope of reaching the top of the cliff. It had been impossible for her to find the place where she had left hanging the rope she had used to descend part of the cliff. She had to climb up without any clue as to the path ahead. At each piece of bark or each crevice in the sawdust, she repeated the same process: plant the pickaxe, pull herself up, wedge one of her feet where she could, and try to locate the next support, higher. For hours. Until she hesitated, so different did the piece of bark seem from the others, at this place. It was a Fyros arm.

"Grab my hand!"
"Aza!! Grab my pickaxe rather!"

The Fyros hoisted Eeri, who breathed a sigh of relief before collapsing a few feet from the edge. She asked him for a moment of rest in order to catch her breath, before answering all his questions. Yes, she had things to tell about her few days down there. Starting with the place. An old Karavan ship. Relatively large, at least larger than the ones they could usually see on the New Lands. Quite different in appearance, too. Abandoned for years, maybe centuries. A relic of the first Swarming? It had crashed there at an angle, in the sawdust. This group of Marauders had settled there for an indeterminate period of time, and their plan was to head back north, leaving a few homins garrisoned on site. The delivery was a key element that they were waiting for in order to finish their work.
Their leader was Li-Yon, an imposing Zorai with a mask tattooed entirely in black, with a disturbing look, although he had been relatively friendly with Eeri. A researcher, as he introduced himself, just like most of the homins here. He explained that it was not really a clan. Rather, several homins from different clans, recruited according to their technical knowledge. In fact, many Trykers and Zorais, some Matis who seemed to be assigned to guard duties. Few fyros.

Eeri was allowed to stay for two nights, before resuming her journey. She was given a small, rundown looking room in the ship, furnished with a small bed propped up by pieces of wood. The whole structure being slanted, it was not so easy to move from one room to another, other than in the parts the Marauders had already refitted. Here and there, the walls were covered with colored protrusions, little red or green pushers, surfaces made of a strange smooth, greenish material. All this must have had a function, but seemed to have been out of order for a long time. The Zoraï gave her a tour of what was left of the ship, avoiding the central room, under the pretext that the homins who worked there needed a lot of concentration. He remained relatively vague on the nature of their works.

"So, did they give you something to eat? To drink?"
"Hmmm, nothing too fantastic. I offered to cook their meat our way, but they refused."
"It's better, they would have kept you."
"I'm thankfully dey! Friendly, but suspicious, and then almost only homins. They seemed really happy to get these trinkets, so their leader was courteous enough to leave me a room with a door that locks. Also to keep an eye on me, I think."
"It's true that you tend to get pregnant at the wrong times," Azazor said, shaking his head.
"And they're not bad... but they're not very talkative either," continued the Fyrossa without picking up on Azazor's remark.
"What did you expect?"
"Nothing special. Deliver the thing, and leave."
"But you surely asked them some questions, didn't you?"

Azazor looked at Eeri with a pout he had developed over the course of the trip, which he pouts every time he was not convinced by what the Fyrossa was telling him. He let her continue to speak, without commenting anything. Eeri answered with a smile:

"I have asked some, but you know me. I'm too direct, I never manage to get information discreetly..."
"Nothing at all?"
"I... think they have an almost working Zinuakeen. And then, what I already told you. Oh, and yes, they did give me some tips on how to continue the journey towaeds Sentinel. Nothing too difficult for the path. This way..."

Eeri pointed east, towards the mountain range.

"That we already knew."
"And another thing too: a few hours' walk away, there's a path, on a root, to the south. Marked by a beacon."
"What is it for?"
"An access to the Wide Puddle. Li-Yon thought we might be interested in seeing it. It's another day's walk. There is a root that crosses the mountain."

Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад)

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"

#41 Многоязычный 

Многоязычный | English | Français
Azazor's logbook
                                   
Eeri barely described the interior of the Marauder camp to me. Let's just say she wasn't very talkative. The important thing to remember is that the Marauders hide their Zinuakeen under construction inside. Impossible to know how it works, since Eeri has not been given access to it. However, the Marauders told her that there was a path leading to the Wide Puddle by the south. A slight detour. So, we went there.

After several days of walking through the southern cordillera, made of giant roots emerging from the ground and twisting like braids, we finally reached the Wide Puddle. It was a particularly trying vision. Imagine an expanse of water as far as the eye can see. Wherever you look, nothing but water up to the horizon. I tried to see the end of the range to the east, in vain. This one comes to die on the horizon, suggesting that it does not end before the mouth of the Munshia river and the hypothetical Reef of Baldos. Passed the amazement, we approached the water and we even bathed there. Not for long though, this soup being relatively cold in winter. There were some fish that I did not especially recognize. But well, I don't know nothing about fish. No predator on the horizon apparently. Maybe some come to drink in the Wide Puddle but not this place in any case. There are no paw prints on the shore. Oh yes, an interesting phenomenon to note: the presence of waves! Bigger than the ones you can sometimes observe in Trykoth. Even if I don't see what the root cause of this could be, I suspect that the size of the Wide Puddle has something to do with it, . Anyway, we had a lot of fun with Eeri jumping among the waves, some of them reaching us at the level of the head.

For the following of our journey, although according to the Ranger map, no access is listed there, we could perhaps avoid the passage through Sentinel by following the Wide Puddle and then climbing the plateau south of the Citadel. I'm curious to know if there are any homins living there. But given the help the Marauders have given us so far, we would be depriving ourselves of essential information for the rest of our journey in the ancestral desert. So, after some discussion, we decided to cross the cordillera again and follow the small trail described to Eeri by the Marauders, which leads to Sentinel through the northern part of the mountain range. This path is not marked except for the area called the "Scattered Desert" where beacons have been placed to indicate the safe places to walk. The area is indeed filled with crevasses and moving sawdust that can swallow a homin in a few minutes without him being able to do anything to escape. However, we will have to avoid crossing the varinx packs haunting these aeras. According to Eeri, the Marauders spend usually a good month to reach Sentinel. So we'll depart tomorrow morning, leaving the Wide Puddle and its fascinating waves behind us. As for whether they will let us pass, we'll see how we can be useful once we get there.

The next morning, Azazor and Eeri finish repacking their makeshift camp on the back of the two mektoubs. The waves have calmed down a bit this morning. During the night, they rocked them, making them live their most beautiful night for a long time. While Eeri picks up a few seashells as a souvenir on the shore, Azazor finishes harnessing the last mektoub. In a joyful mood, he gives her a smile. The Fyrossa gives it back to him without forcing herself. Behind her, the stretch of water brings a breeze coming from the sea which raises her red hair. The Fyros, in front of this vision, cannot help smiling even more. He had not felt this feeling for her since this torrid night in the Baths of Pyr.

Suddenly, behind Eeri, the water starts to swell and a titanic creature emerges. It opens wide a mouth filled with sharp teeth. This one closes on Eeri, whose superior part of body is soon completely swallowed in the mouth of the monster. Azazor rushes towards the Fyrossa and grabs her legs before the monster was able to take her to the bottom. Resisting as he can, he does not manage to retain it and is himself dragged in water, pulled by the superhuman strength of the creature. While he screams at the top of his lungs all the rage of despair, he manages in a last effort to pull Eeri's body from the beast's grip. He then falls backwards, slumping his buttocks in the water. The prakker, because such is the name of the beast, plunges back in the water in a whirlwind of wave. Completely distraught and still clinging to Eeri's legs, he pulls her hastily out of the water.
Only when he finds himself dry on the shore, he finally notices that the girl has been literally cut in two at the level of the waist, the monster having carried away the other half in its stomach. A trail of viscera is visible on the beach, where the upper half of Eeri's body has been taken. Looking with horror at the bloody legs of his friend, Azazor lets out a howl of terror. Eyes rolling back, not able to stop staring at the legs that are bleeding on the beach, he falls to his knees, while the prakker fades away on the horizon.
Death here is irrevocable, he knows it. He lets out another howl to the sky as Eeri's lower body lies there, dripping his guts and spurts of blood onto the knees of the now hopelessly alone Fyros.

Edited 2 times | Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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fyros pure sève
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#42 Многоязычный 

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Alone.

Alone!

Alone!!!

Thoughts fly in his head. With his mind muddled, he stands there, kneeling on the shore, his eyes bulging.

She is dead. Eeri is dead. DEAD! She will never come back. You don't rez here. You're all alone when death strikes. Still clutching Eeri's legs, he cannot bring himself to leave them there. Still warm, bloody, falling to dust...

To dust? Yes, Eeri's legs disintegrate before his eyes. Becoming dust again. Evaporating in the morning breeze...

Disappearing...

[...]

But then ?

[...]

BUT YES !

She is alive! She could rez! Probably near the Zinuakeen! SHE COULD REZ! HAHA...

???

What? She could rez? One needs to have a Marauder crystal to be rez'd at Zinuakeen. And Eeri never told him she had a...


"RAMECH! BITCH MATIS!!!" he yells all of a sudden.


This is why she wasn't afraid of death! "Yes, I fight like it's my last fight. Yes, I've been training. Yes, I'm such a badass and you fatty are a two week old yubo."

Bitch! Bloody degenerate Matissa! She's had a goddamn Maraud' crystal all this time! So yes, she can play the fearless warrior, my ass! Liar! Traitor!

He gets up with a leap, sweeping away the pile of dust that covered his legs with a wave of his hand. Then, talking to himself, he goes towards the mektoubs.

"Oh my dear Eeri, wait until I find you! You are going to know the Fyros fury. You'll see, now I'm going to strike as if it were my last fight. Don't worry about, Maraud': the fat Azazor's going to teach you to hide things like that from him!"

Pulling the two mektoubs without any care, the Fyros takes again the way crossing the cordillera, direction the Marauder campsite. A carnivorous smile to the lips, he is in a hurry, oh yes he is in a hurry to see again the dear red head of his "friend" Eeri. To discuss, exchange, knock and more if affinity.

Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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fyros pure sève
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#43 Многоязычный 

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She was awakened by a bucket of water on her head.

"You're back? You were missing us?

Eeri vomited, then collapsed on her back. The light was burning her eyes, and it took her a moment to make out what was surrounding her and come to her senses.

"You had to take a bad fall," Li-Yon said. "You were lucky you had that crystal."


***


Ever since that talk with Azazor a few days earlier, the Fyrossa had been thinking about the secret she would take with her if she fell off that cliff. The truth? No. Her life was now a huge web of lies, driven by her clumsy attempts to fix her past mistakes. She walked along, fiddling in her pocket with the Marauders Zin crystal she was carrying since the New Lands. What if it worked? Ever since O'Teelo, at the Cloudy Cliff Outpost, had told them about the presence of a teleporter network in the Old Lands, the Fyrossa had felt slightly reassured. Perhaps that was why she had fought those bandits and risked so much. But that was still something she could not tell Azazor about. A stupid imprudence that she disguised under a facade of arrogance. And the luck of having fallen on untrained homins. And if only this crystal worked, she would have to synchronize it with a teleporter first. This was a detail that the homins of the New Lands, accustomed to wandering these regions, no longer thought about.

No more imprudence. Especially not now.

In the end, the descent proved to be less laborious than Eeri had imagined. She threw an "oren fyraï" to Azazor, her voice slightly distorted by her apprehension, which she tried to hide as best she could, then launched herself. The idea of keeping a pickaxe in her right hand, which she stuck into the sawdust to swing from root to root, worked. Without that, she clearly wouldn't have found enough holds. Azazor would have managed too, no doubt, but someone had to guard the mektoubs, who obviously wouldn't have succed in climbing down. However, the apprehension was there, the fear of going down alone, without any help in case something happened.

A flood of memories came back to her mind, as she lay there on the ground. That moment when she had been able to approach the Zinuakeen, while the Marauders had their backs turned. Then the climb back up to Azazor. They had resumed their road, and decided to make this detour, to go and see this legendary immensity of water. After these days spent in the desert, taking a bath was worth one or two more days of walking. The moving and agitated waters of the Wide Puddle, so unlike those of the lake of Fairhaven. Then that night of calm, as if the predators had decided to give them a moment's respite. The next day... Had she not woken up? No more memories, everything was blurred, except for an image that seemed to encrust in her memories, a shell. Was it really a shell? She had never seen one like it before.


***

Eeri vomited a second time, which earned her a second bucket of water on her head.

"Where am I?"
"Back at the Zinuakeen."

Eeri sat up and rubbed her eyes, still feeling groggy. Yes, she knew where she was, there was no doubt about it, but she had asked the question for comfort. Li-Yon, in front of her, was looking at her from behind his black mask, twirling the crystal between his fingers.

"You could have told us you were one of us," the Zorai said after a moment that seemed like an eternity.
"I didn't think it would make much difference," Eeri replied.
"Really?"
"I tought that many of you here hold the Marauders of the New Lands in low regard. And especially their adoration for Akilia."
"And if even that was true, we weren't going to kill you for that."
"But you could do it now because I lied to you?"

Eeri made out a smile behind the Zorai's mask. He gave her back her crystal:

"No. We are only scientists."
"This is the first time I've been brought back since I left. It's been years..."
"Maybe our Zinuakeen aren't as comfortable as the ones where you come from."
"It's probably because we're not used to those here..."

Yes, it had to be lack of practice, thought Eeri, who had never used this crystal before. To say that was no lie.

"You can spend one more night here. I imagine you're looking forward to seeing your companion if he's still of this world. But after what you've just been through, it's best to rest. I must also thank you. Thanks to you, we know that the Zinuakeen is functional. That's lucky for you. So, with everything you've brought back, we can already start looking for where we'll set up the next one. Further north from here.

Eeri didn't answer anything but a nod of thanks, so much she tried to control her nervousness and trembling. She had to face the fact that she had not come far from never coming back. She still didn't understand how all this could have happened. Azazor... Let's hope he's safe. If he had seen her die and her body dematerialize, chances were he would understand where to find her. And she could always tell him she'd picked up a crystal at the camp here. Considering the present state of the truth between them... If not, he had probably come to terms and had go on his way. It would take her days of walking before she could catch up with him, without mektoub.

If only he were still of this world.

Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад) | Причина: Traduction en Anglais par Nilstilar / English Translation by Nilstilar

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"

#44 Многоязычный 

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Azazor was here, sitting. He was waiting, looking at a campfire he hadn't even bothered to light in front of him, a few meters from the two mektoubs. This time, he did not extend his arm to help her, as she came, panting, to the end of her escalation. At the top, she stretched, then went to sit down opposite him, silently. He didn't move, but Eeri knew that he was silently ranting.

"You will excuse me, I had a small hitch," she said.

The Fyros raised his blue eyes towards her. Icy eyes.

"I owe you some explanations. I know I screwed up again. And that I'm very lucky."

She expected him to explode at any moment. But she took advantage of the quiet to continue.

"I'm glad to see you. I didn't know if you were still alive. I didn't think I was coming back either…"

Azazor exploded. He abruptly grabbed his axe as he stood up and threw a blow toward Eeri. With vivacity, she got up to dodge it, and moved back a few steps.

"RAMÈCH MATIS! SCUM OF THE BARK! YOU SLUT!! WHEN DID YOU INTEND TO SAY ME ABOUT YOU HAD BECAME MARAUDER?"

Eeri dodged another blow from the axe. Hitting his chest with his fist, he continued:

"THEN, GO AHEAD, HIT ME ! ME, I DON'T HAVE ANY CRYSTAL. IF I FALL, I FALL. I DIE. AND YOU WILL BE ALONE HERE. TRAITOR!! LIAR!!"

Azazor, enraged, attacked the Fyrossa again, who jumped aside and grabbed his shield hanging on the back of one of the mektoubs.

"KILL ME, YOU WILL SEE THAT I DO NOT HAVE CRYSTAL, ME! I KNOW WHAT IT IS TO FEAR DEATH!"
"And then, what does it change? I have a Marauder crystal, ney, so what? You should be happy to see me.

"WHAT DOES IT CHANGE?" he belched. "WE HAD A DEAL!!! NO MORE LIES!!! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A MARAUDER OR IF YOU FOUND THAT CRYSTAL IN A MEKTOUB'S ASS, BUT YOU LIED TO ME!"

Azazor attacked several times, Eeri tried to dodge his blows as she could. He finally planted his axe in the shield, and the Fyrossa took the opportunity to take a side step and grab the handle of Azazor's axe, in order to immobilize him. She added, a few centimeters from the Fyros' face:

"I am not a Marauder. I just did what was necessary to be able to use their technology. That's all."

Azazor yanked his axe out of the way, using all the strength he could muster, and sent Eeri flying a few feet away.

"I AM A DRAKANI," she shouted, crashing into the sawdust.

Azazor planted his axe in the campfire, exploding it on several meters around.

"Yeah that's for sure, you don't have anything of a Fyrossa anymore ! Lying so much, you became the shame of our race!"

"You want the truth, but you are not able to hear it," added Eeri. "Yes, I have a Marauder crystal. And I synchronized it down there, without even knowing it was functional. Do you think I'm proud? I was just lucky we were still in range of the Zinuakeen. I don't even remember what happened at the Wide Puddle…"

Azazor ranted, still clutching the handle of his axe, ruminating that she had lied. She added:

"And then, why did you come back here? Did you come back to whine because I lied to you? To prove to me once again that only your way is right? To blame me for the people I've been with? SO WHAT? IF YOU ARE NOT HAPPY TO SEE ME, GO ON ALONE!

The Fyros didn't answer anything, just looked coldly at the Fyrossa.

"But you have to be completely crazy… What did you think? That I was going to make such a trip without preparing anything? We were going to the Marauders! Do you really think there was any other option?"
"You just don't get it, do you? I don't care about your methods. You prefer manipulation, that's your choice. I'm even willing to admit that having a Maraud crystal was a good idea."

Eeri raised an eyebrow, taken aback.

"But you lied to me. Once again. One lies to enemies, not to friends."
"It's an obsession with you, right?" she said, sarcastically.

The Fyros did not raise and, after a deep breath, said in a surprisingly cold and calm voice:

"You can continue with me if you want. But know one thing, Eeri: I will never trust you again. You are no longer one of us and I no longer owe you the Truth."

Searching for words, he added:

"You are now… only a homina."
"Well… It doesn't change anything, you already didn't trust me. And I wasn't planning on coming back within the Empire, don't worry.

Azazor walked over to the mektoubs and began to pull them eastward. They didn't say another word until nightfall.

Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад) | Причина: English Translation by Nilstilar

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"

#45 Многоязычный 

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On the way to Sentinel, a few days after their altercation, they came across a group of three varinxes intent on making them their next meal. Azazor stopped but did not even take out his axe. He just stood there, placid. Until now, he had said almost nothing, only grunting when he had to communicate with Eeri. But this time, to the astonishment of the Fyrossa, he opened his mouth and said:

"Take care of them, immortal."

Eeri grumbled something in protest, but had no choice but to take out her axe as the varinxes were coming towards her, and managed to get rid of them. Fortunately, they were young males, probably expelled from their pack by the dominant male. Without much hunting experience, they only managed to bite Eeri's armor without hurting her. Once two of them were killed, the last one didn't have to be persuaded to skedaddle.

"You could have helped me," said Eeri.

The Fyros didn't answer and went back on the path to Sentinel, shooting the mektoubs without care.

***

Two days later, one morning, a new dramatic event occurred. Eeri had to go in search of a mektoub that during the night had managed to untie its harness to to go grazing a hundred meters away. Nonchalantly chewing the liketim that was growing thickly that winter, it was looking with a torpid eye at the homina coming towards it. When Eeri started sinking into what was obviously some shifting sawdust, he gave a slight moo and took up his meal where he had left it.

"ramèch!" said the homina, trying as best she could to get out of the sawdust's grip. But the harder she tried, the deeper she sank. The shifting sawdust was up to her waist when she decided to call for help to the fat Fyros who was eating his dried meat as a morning meal in the distance.

"Azaaa! Bloody mek... I'm sinking in shifting sawdust! Come and help me!"

The Fyros got up and approached Eeri, without haste.

"Wait, take the other mektoub with you and give me its tether. He will pull me out."

But the Fyros continued to advance towards the Fyrossa, watching where he put his feet. When he got as close as he could to her without having to put his feet in the shifting sawdust, he ducked down to her level. Eeri was then sunken up to the chest. She had stopped moving not to sink more, having understood that the more she would move, the more she would sink.

"What the hell are you doing? You think you can pull me out without the mektoub?"

He looked at her gravely but did not stretch out his hands towards her. His gaze was fixed on the Fyrossa trapped in the sawdust.

"Oh, okay, we get here? Is it the time you let me snuff it? What do you want? For me to apologize?"

The Fyros didn't move, still staring gravely at the Fyrossa.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have any apologies to offer you. So let me die here if it makes you happy, but don't count on me to beg."

Azazor then took out a Marauder crystal from his armor pocket and showed it to the Fyrossa.

"What... Is it mine? When did you take this from me?"

"Last night. I've always slept with one eye open. And today you'll understand something."

Eeri looked at him defiantly.

"What makes us different is that I know what it is to be afraid of dying. And in that, I know true courage."

"You are crazy! Definitely crazy!"

"oren fyraï, Eeri."

He got back up and turned his back to her. Then he picked up the first mektoub and went to the camp to pick up the second. He took his time to harness them and when he had finished, he took a quick look at the Fyrossa still stuck in the sawdust and went back on the path to Sentinel.

- You're completely crazy!! DETAL!!!

Realizing that she would have to fend for herself, Eeri tried to slowly move her chest closer to the more solid edge. But while her upper body could still move, her legs remained frozen, as if embedded in the wood. Even though her bust movements were as light as possible, they had the effect that she sank a little further. The sawdust now reached almost to the base of her neck and she kept her arms raised above her. She screamed, with difficulty, hoping that some homin would pass by. But this path was not very frequented. She might as well hope that a varinx would come to her aid.

An hour passed without her sinking any deeper, but without managing to get even an inch out of that sawdust. That's it, she was going to end up like that. A head and arms sticking out of the sawdust, waiting to die of thirst or to be eaten by who knows what beastie. Death. The inevitable death was waiting for her. And this time, no more crystal to resurrect her. Anyway, even with one, she wasn't sure being close enough to a Zinuakeen for that.
She didn't think Azazor would do such a thing to her. He was resentful, sure, but enough to want to kill her? Even when he had attacked her with an axe, she had felt it was more an explosion of rage than a real attempt to kill her. But here, using trickery to kill her? He must have been really angry with her. You're not one of us anymore, he'd said. You're just a homina. She should have known better. If she was now nothing more than a homina, he could get rid of her. He had the crystal, he could pretend to be a Marauder. He didn't need her anymore. ramèch, yes, she had screwed up. And she was going to snuff it there, alone, and she didn't even know when...

Suddenly, a rope fell before her eyes and she grabbed it. Looking up at her benefactor, she saw a fat Fyros in Marauder armor and a weathered face. Azazor. He had tied the rope to the two mektoubs and was busy moving them forward to pull her out of the shifting sawdust. Eeri felt as if they were breaking her legs when they pull her along, but finally she managed to get out and found herself gasping for air outside the sawdust. Azazor didn't help her up, didn't ask her how she was doing, or even check to see if she could stand up on her own.
He simply took the mektub's reins and told her docently:

"The moving sawdust obeys, like any fluid, a simple principle. The vertical force directed upwards is equal to the weight of the volume of fluid displaced. You couldn't sink down enturely." 

Then, after a short pause, he added:

"Now you know what it is to be afraid to die.

Before the Fyrossa could say a word, he continued:

"And yes, I am crazy. So beware of me. Because one day I will let you die."

He dropped the Marauder crystal to the ground and pulled the mektoubs towards the east.

Edited 3 times | Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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#46 Многоязычный 

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Eeri's logbook

Sentinel is within our reach. We see the lights of a camp a day's walk away. It is a relief and just as terrifying. The situation is tense between Azazor and me. I have a premonition that something is going turn out badly, for one or the other of us.

If I disappear and by chance someone comes to read this journal, it is not the image I want to leave of me and our trip. But I have to admit, I screwed up, big time. Azazor now only talks to me to give me orders, and we've lost trust in each other. He tried to kill me a few days ago. Or to scare me. It worked. He treats me like I'm an orskos. Me!

It's my fault. ney. But I didn't lie, dey! I hid things. Is it a lie not to say anything? He didn't ask me any questions. When he asked me if I was a Trytonist, I said yes. If you ask me, I answer. I don't lie. Yes, let it be known. Give this to the Kuilde and let them come to me, if they dare.
But toub, Azazor, you are as stubborn as I am... Yes, I should have said everything, revealed everything from the beginning. But could you have heard what I had to say? Even before we left, you wanted to do your own thing, you criticized my positions, my friendships. You didn't even bother to listen or to be interested in what I could have given you. And now you have to tell yourself that you bet on the wrong mektoub. But if I disappear and you read this, know that my respect for you is still alive. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you, and you wouldn't have gotten this far without me.
If you had asked the question, "Eeri, do you have a Marauder crystal?" I would have answered yes... Yes, I got a Marauder crystal from Mazé'yum. Without compromising my real name. No, I don't want to join them, especially not those from the New Lands. Even if some of them here have my respect.
Another question you could have asked me, and never did: "Am I the father of Uzykos?" I think the answer is clear enough, and that deep down you already know it. But it's not enough to want the truth, you must be able to accept it. One day you will know it, and you will explode, as you do every time you are interested in something other than your own plans
And dey, I'm not immortal. You forgot, for a crystal to work, you have to be able to activate it. And after ten days of walking, we're just too far away for it to work. If I fall, I die. Just like you. If the distance had nothing to do with it, I could have simply returned to Fairhaven, as if nothing had happened. But this is another truth you don't want to hear. By the time you read this, it will be too late to realize it.

Besides, if the little you told me about what happened at the Wide Puddle is true, so far this crystal has only served to keep me from being totally gobbled up by a big fish. Eeri, dead, guzzled and digested by a prakker. I hope my true ending will be a bit more glorious, I still have that Fyros trait at least.

Tomorrow we'll go to the Marauders, to Sentinel. Hopefully they already know we're coming. I have a feeling that these homins are much more ingenious than we might think, and that they have a quicker means of communication than sending a simple messenger. I will let Azazor speak. Anyway, if I open my mouth he'll find something to pick at. And I promised, a few months ago, when we arrived at the Cloudy Cliff Outpost, to let him what he wants. If it goes wrong, I'll try to make it right by taking out my crystal. However, I have the impression that the dice are cast already and that Azazor knows exactly what he is going to do. And that he won't hesitate to abandon me, as soon as he doesn't need me anymore, or as soon as he feels that will save his ass.

We set up our camp high up on a root. It reduces the access in case of a predator attack. There are few of them, but they are much bigger and more tenacious. There is also less game here than in our country, maybe it's related. From here, we have a view of the desert to the north. To the east, we could already make out, in the daytime, the presence of this mountain range that separates us from the desert of the Old Lands. We are so close to our goal and yet nothing has ever been so uncertain. I never expected that we would want to kill each other. Maybe that's the strength of the homins here. The fact that we don't go crazy knowing that whatever one does, it might be the last time. Although, now that they're expanding their Zinuakeen network here too, it must totally change their their view of things.. This fear must probably only be valid for us, who have just never been used to this feeling. It makes us lose our minds.

After writing these lines, in the light of dusk, Eeri closed her journal and put it in her bag. Then she approached one of the mektoubs, and poked around for a while. Azazor paid her no attention, but his head moved, by reflex, when a light "plop" was heard.
He stood there for a few seconds, listening. Eeri swallowed, then approached him with quiet steps. She planted herself in front of him, a vial of essence of ocyx held out towards the Fyros. When he finally looked up at her, she said in an insecure voice:

"Here, take a sip. This is the last one. And it's now or never, maybe."
"It's to poison me, right?"
"It's to make us up. Between the two of us, we have a chance."

The Fyros winced, but took the vial and swallowed a sip, not without a grunt of satisfaction. Then he took a deep breath, as if preparing to announce something, but sighed loudly as he looked away from Eeri, while he gave her back the vial.

Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад) | Причина: English Translation by Nilstilar

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"

#47 Многоязычный 

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Azazor's logbook

I'll keep it short. As soon as we arrived at Sentinel, the Marauders confiscated all our belongings. I am writing this text with a piece of coal on the single leather I managed to hide before arriving here.

We arrived in sight of a kind of giant tower built in a tree also gigantic. It is not like the tower of Fort Beacon in the sense that it is not built in a root but in a real tree of phenomenal dimensions. It's more than a tower in fact, almost a circular city with several floors, with a few dead branches at the top reminding us that we are dealing with, basically, a tree. I have never seen so thick and high a tree. Yet, it seems to be only a part of the original tree. The tree is now probably a dead one because there is no foliage and it looks like it was burned by some ancient fire. Scarce bare branches only remain in addition to the trunk.
So it is inside this huge tree that Sentinel is built. There is a main entrance covered by a canopy and various secondary stairs outside. Halfway up, we can see balconies where homins are stationed, apparently armed with firearms. Above, there are some more floors in what reminded me of the Imperial Palace, a kind of pseudo-dome, there where the top of the tree must have been. 

As we came within sight of the tree, Marauders came up from behind us and made us lower our weapons. They asked us what clan we were from. I told them the truth. That I was a patriot of the Empire in the New Lands, that I had come as a researcher to study the Road of Oflovak and the land of our ancestors, that I owed this Marauder armor to O'Tello, the head of the Cloudy Cliff Diplomatic Outpost, and that we had just returned from a delivery mission to build a Zinuakeen, mission to make us up for the misappropriation of some jerky. In short, the truth, raw and unvarnished. I didn't say anything about Eeri. She didn't even say anything, leaving me to speak all along.

They then separated us and I was questioned by two homins. I repeated what I had said. When they asked me who Eeri was, I told them that she was a Tryker citizen who was accompanying me. They then explicitly asked me if she was a Marauder. I told them I didn't think so. They told me about the Marauder crystal found in her belongings. I explained that I didn't know about this crystal until a month ago and that Eeri had lied to me. She had sworn that the crystal did not mean that she was a Maraud'. I told them that she had probably stolen it from someone or that one of her contacts had given it to her. At their insistence, I gave them the name Mayé'zum or Mazé'yum. I don't remember exactly. A shady guy from the New Lands an I don't know which Maraud' clan. They then took me to a kind of cell where I waited for several hours.

A homin came for me and I was questioned again. This time there was a Fyros of obviously higher rank. I was asked about my intentions. I had to repeat what I was doing here, that I wanted to go to the other side of the ridge. Thinking that I was dealing with the real leader of the Sentinel this time, I added that my goal was also to establish a first contact with the Marauders so that when I returned to the New Lands, we could exchange knowledge. To make my request credible, I had to tell them that I was an akenakos and a student at the Imperial Academy. I also offered them my services as a butcher in order to pay for my stay here, that if they could contact the Diplomatic Outpost, they would learn that I excelled in this art and that they would not regret it. The Fyros noted all this and had me escorted back to the cell where I am waiting without food for a while now. So I take the opportunity to write this. And I don't know where Eeri is. Let her deal with her lies. 

Way covered since Fort Beacon

Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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#48 Многоязычный 

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Azazor's logbook
Day after my arrival D+1

I finally was allowed to get my stuff back. They went through all my writings and those of Eeri. According to the Fyros, whose name I still don't have, I seem to them quite honest about my intentions. What is not the case of the homina who accompanies me. He wouldn't tell me more and I don't care. They can hang her, it's not my concern anymore.
So the Marauders agree to host me for a week in exchange for a job in the kitchen. I have had my Marauder armor confiscated and my weapons will be returned to me when I leave. So I put back on my Fyros armor. It's not so bad after all, even if I would have liked to bring back a Maraud' armor in the New Lands. The Fyros is waiting for the orders of his superiors to know if he should make me turn back or if they agree to let me continue my way to the Old Lands. 

D+2
I was able to talk to a Maraud' who works in the kitchen with me. He explained to me that The Citadel is not really a city such as one imagines it. It is in fact more of a fractured part of the great root ridge that surrounds the desert of the Old Lands and that forms a kind of maze. There are crevices everywhere that the Marauders travel on a regular basis. You should rather imagine an agglomeration of small temporary camps built and dismantled in response to the kitins moves. The Old Lands are literally teeming with kitins. The strategy for containing them is to let part of them enter the maze and get lost in it, for then kill them or get them out again. Forget about the idea of a big wall that the kitins would crash into. The constant battle of the Marauders against the kitins is mostly hide-and-seek. The Maraud' who told me this can't tell me much more than that, alas. The cult of secrecy is quite prevalent here, and people are suspicious of me. I understand them. We are also very suspicious of them in our land. It's only as a fair return. 

D+5
The Marauders agreed to accompany me to a first Citadel encampment in three days. From there, I will receive further instructions on how to move around The Citadel until I get out. They would not tell me more at this time. I was asked with a smile if I like climbing. I have a feeling I'm not going to like it...

D+6
One of the Marauds who had taken me into the cell on the first day came up to me today and threw a batch of papers on my bunk. He said that I should be interested, that these were Eeri's writings and that I could keep them because they had already made a copy. When I asked him about her fate, he couldn't answer me. But it seems that she won't be coming out any time soon. Too bad for her. All she had to do was listen to me and play it fair.
I started to read, and I have to admit, at least in writing, that I feel a little guilty for having been so tyrannical. The toub is secretive and has a major issue with trust, but her intentions were good. I should finish reading tonight.

D+8 

I joined a small convoy towards The Citadel and we left early this morning. The further we go, the more gigantic the ridge seems. Next to it, the cliffs of Scorched Corridor seem ridiculous. Will I really have to climb all this...? And... I saw Eeri. From a distance. Chained to a toub and well guarded. She is part of our convoy, in the back. Of course, I am forbidden to approach her. According to a Maraud', she is going to meet an important person of The Citadel and I don't have to know where. "Akilia?" I asked. He growled in answer. So not Akilia. And clearly, this one is not in odor of sanctity here either. We are told on and on in the New Lands of Akilia being the leader of the Marauders, but after what O'Tello said, and that growl, I begin to believe that here exist power struggles too, between the pro-Akilia and the others...


D+9
That's it, we arrived. During the last hours of walking, I did not dare to look at the top of the ridge, for fear of being nauseous. There, the winds were particularly violent, but we finally managed to sneak in a small notch to finally reach a first rough camp inside the cliff. The Marauders seemed to be used to this trip. According to one of them, most of the camps are troglodyte and temporary. There are a few permanent camps here and there that are extremely well hidden and defended, but almost all of them are shifting, depending on the movement of kitins and the tactics adopted to neutralize them. Again, these cliffs remind me of those of Scorched Corridor. A real maze of caves, canyons and crevasses. But so much bigger... We leave in one hour. The time to write this. 

As a result I know how I'm going to get to the Old Lands. By the top. I was told about climbing, this will be the case. From a place in the Citadel, I will be able to use a set of ropes, ladders and other footbridges to climb up the ridge. Once at the top, I was advised, if I want to join Coriolis, to follow more or less the edge of the cliff, depending on the presence of kitins. They are less numerous at the top, but still present. So, it will probably be necessary to make some detours. But I will have not to go down under any circumstances. They told me that anyway, once I'm up there, I'll understand why. 

Last edited by Azazor (2 года назад)

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#49 Многоязычный 

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Time also seemed to be hanging. Regularly, like a clock that came ostensibly to remind her of the passing of time, a drop of sweat detached itself from her forehead to come to crash a few centimeters lower in the sawdust. The half-light of the place could almost have made the atmosphere bearable, but in addition to the heat that reigned there, the sawdust dust forced the homina to keep her breathing as light and as slow as possible.

So far, they hadn't hit her. At Sentinel, they had left her for several days in a room, deprived of everything but a bowl of water and a kind of unspiced bread that made her bitterly miss Eolinius'. A homin (was he always the same one?) would come and ask her questions. She usually didn't answer, except with a yes or no. She had asked to speak to the leader of the Horizon Surveyors. Sometimes he spoke to her in Marund, a language she didn't know at all, to test her reactions, without much success. "Where does this crystal come from? What Clan are you from?". She had lost track of time. But no matter.

So Azazor had done nothing to help her case. He must have said that Eeri had stolen the crystal, that she was working for some clan… He must have said that she had lied to him. That was enough to make the Marauders suspicious of her.

Then they'd made her walk from Sentinel to The Citadel, tied behind a mektoub, hands and feet chained, not far from a free-handed Azazor who didn't even deny her a glance. It was a much crueler torment. Two days of walking in silence. One of the Marauders had made it clear: "You try to talk to your Fyros, I'll feed you to the varinxes."
She was taken there, in that cell, and they tied her by the feet. The head downwards. To test her nerves, one of the guards had said with a sneer. Eeri let them do it, without struggling. They left her there, in the heat and dust, for several hours, or days, which seemed like an eternity. Everything was already so confused in her mind, and hanging upside down did not help her to think. She now doubted why she was there. Where she came from. Who she was fighting for. The Federation? The Empire? The Trytonists? The Rangers? The Marauders? Or a little of everything? Or just for herself? She didn't know what to answer.

***

"She must be ready."
"If she has not sniff it yet…"

Two guards arrived, and cut the tie that bound her feet. She fell limply on the ground, head first. Then the two homins grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her out of the cell. They were clad in heavy Maraudeur armor relatively similar to that of the New Lands, except for a few details.

"She's still alive."
"Bring her to me," said a third.

Then, approaching Eeri's ear, he whispered with a thick accent:

"And you'd better answer the questions we're going to ask you, if you don't want to end your trip here… Definitely. Be reasonable."

Last edited by Eeri (2 года назад) | Причина: English Translation by Nilstilar

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Eeri
"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"
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