Every rustle of leaf, every crack of twig beneath his feet echoed in the nocturnal silence, amplifying his growing anxiety.
The air was heavy and laden with humidity, making his breathing labored and accentuating the clamminess of his skin already covered in cold sweat.
In the center of the clearing, a hooded figure awaited him, motionless and impassive.
Sagaritis's pale glow filtered through the foliage, partially revealing a tattooed face with hard, inexpressive features.
When she spoke, her pronounced rocky accent cut through the silence like a sharp blade.
- Did you bring what we asked for?
Ciochini Cuisi swallowed hard, feeling his throat dry and knotted with fear.
His hands trembled violently as he held out a folder, aware that the slightest misstep could seal his fate.
The homine seized it without a word, breaking the seal with a precise gesture to check the contents.
- Good," she murmured after a moment. You've done your part.
Ciochini Cuisi tried to control the tremor in his voice, but it betrayed his latent terror.
- So... that's it? My debt's forgiven?
The hominin slowly raised her eyes to his, her piercing gaze piercing him through and through, as if probing the depths of his soul.
- For the time being. But remember, Ser Ciochini Cuisi, the Shadows have a long memory.
Don't give us a reason to come back and see you.
An icy shiver ran down the Ore Altae employee's spine.
As his mind raced, he imagined the dire consequences of another encounter with this hominid or her kind.
He nodded frantically, instinctively taking a step back, as if to put some distance between himself and this thinly veiled threat.
With a sneer of contempt on her lips, she looked Ciochini Cuisi up and down.
In a sharp voice, she blurted out:
- Gey-gey-zakun, la-gey-zas urkyan, get out, you make me puke.
The homin felt his stomach knot.
The idea of turning his back on this homine petrified him.
He backed away slowly, his gaze fixed on her, looking for a sign of leniency that was nowhere to be seen.
Shadows danced around them, accentuating the unknown woman's menacing aura.
Under the pressure of her piercing gaze and growing anxiety, he felt his legs wobble.
Panic gripped him, and he was unable to bear the unbearable tension any longer.
He turned and ran, stumbling in his haste to leave the oppressive clearing that seemed intent on engulfing him.
All the while knowing that, despite this frantic race, he could never really escape the shadows that now pursued him.]]>
The disappearance of Eeri, her mother, shortly after she returned from the Old Lands and was finally able to get to know her. The research, leads and information she'd passed on to the Trytonists, who hadn't arrived in time. Her decision to return to the Old Lands, no longer able to hold a dagger. A departure that would never take place.
Then, all the false leads, or rather, everything that can never be proven again. Had she really undergone an operation at the hands of Mazé'Yum, her old friend the Zoraï scholar, an ambiguous and controversial hominin? And if so, had the operation been successful, had she regained the use of her arm? How and when had she found herself at the mercy of the followers of the cult of the Great Dragon? Why had they kept her alive? Had she also tried to infiltrate them?
Then Azazor's disappearance, his return, his trial, his confession. The confession of having killed with his own hands the mother of his own son, held by the Sect of the Great Dragon, so that he could better infiltrate and fight them. Game over for Eeri, Tryker citizen. A high-ranking Fyros member of the Adepts was unmasked but had fled, Sharükos had decided to let Azazor go free, the homins of the federation wanted justice.
And Lyren... She just wanted to find peace. Above all, it was time for farewells, time for tears, time to know that her mother was free of the weight that life had become since her return. The ceremony had to be neutral, free and peaceful, in her image. It needed essence of oxyx, shooki, byrh, friends, enemies, carefree. It was time to let the ocyx fly.]]>
" KI'DOUN !" Someone shouted from behind
Then silence. No, almost. A rustle of sheets, footsteps coming closer. The three panels of the door slid open stealthily. Cinabre, looking dazed, rubbed one eye and glared at the servant with the other.
In a pasty voice that was nothing like the one that recited this "lao'doun ki'doun", he asked:
- What's up?
- You're keeping me awake, ser. It seems you talk in your sleep."replied the old man, forgetting all about protocol at the same time.
However, Cinabre didn't seem to be in any state to take note of this discrepancy. He stared at the opposite wall, visibly troubled. As he seemed totally immersed in thought, the servant turned on his heel. As he lay back down, he wondered whether it would be wise to change the House...]]>
She tries to convey all her love in the look she gives him back, but he seems, for once, impervious to her appeal.
"Liosta, what's going on?"
Liosta gently releases herself from Aelyne's embrace and, taking her daughter back into her arms, gently pushes the young tryker towards her room:
"Go and rest Aelyne. I'll take care of Ilinae for now. I'll be back to see you in a while."
She turns to Copal just as she hears the door close behind her back.
"She had an anxiety attack, probably a reminiscence of what happened to her. You know that healing has always been my goal. I can't leave her to struggle alone against what's tormenting her."
Copal is still staring at her. He hasn't said a word since his question. His rigid posture seems to be shouting at Liosta: "Mastery! Mastery! Control!" Don't show your feelings, don't let your anger cross the ice surface... At times, Liosta would like to see the screen that hides her husband from her shatter.
Ilinae chirps in her arms, bringing her back to the present and to her family.
"Copal, healing is my life, or rather was my life, until Jena put you in my path. Since then, in front of Karin and Jena, I've chosen to follow you. I won't question that choice, even less now that Ilinae is bringing us closer together forever. So I'm asking you. I know that Aelyne needs me, needs us, because Ilinae is the anchor that always brings her back to reality. I'd like to help her. Can you give me a little more time?"]]>
Duke had left the meeting with a slight headache that had turned into a dull, throbbing pain over the next few hours. He took a sedative and lay down on his bed.
His sleep, far from restful, was nothing but reminiscences of the past and hallucinatory delirium: the black sky of the prime roots weighed on his chest; lanterns danced around him as he was caught in tangles of prickly brambles; a strange homine bent over his face, goo fumes billowing from her mouth; Stevano looked down on him as he sat on his throne; grimacing masks threatened and smiled at him at the same time, then darkness invaded him completely, he fell endlessly...
He woke up panting and sat up, trying to put his thoughts back in order. His memory was playing tricks on him, and certain things were escaping him.
Masks... He saw the wise Saison again, old friends gone, Rook sometimes kind, sometimes torn by madness, Shepeng and Zhan laughing together, Siela in love...
Cinabre's appointment, still hesitant and awkward, had brought back memories of his own accession to the post of ambassador to the Kingdom, many cycles before.
Tria, Folially 15, 3rd AC 2587 - Anoblissement et nomination au poste d'ambassadeur auprès de la Théocratie
]]>At the time, the Kingdom was questioning its organization, the place of the nobility and its role for the forest people. Karan Stevano had launched a kind of consultation among his subjects, and had promoted a number of deserving matis to renew the governing bodies. Duke, like the others, had the privilege of giving his opinion directly to Duke Rodi di Varello at an assembly in Avalae.
He had already made great progress thanks to the Firm, and was involved in the Kingdom's affairs with the enthusiasm of youth. It was thus that he was proposed for ennoblement in Stevano by Zakarya di Avalae, known as Zakkk, the wise old ruler of his House.
He presented himself as best he could, given the embarrassment he felt, knowing he was still so far from his masters and teachers, and the excellence he was aiming for himself. "A humble matis, now that's something!" the Karan had said. But for Duke it was mostly realism, there was still so much to accomplish...
Then came the chance to represent the Kingdom before the Theocracy, an opportunity for filira Ducocinnio Nono to respond to the Karan's trust, and for the new nobleman to prove his worth...
Son,
By the time you read this letter, I'll have left via the Oflovak Road for the Old Lands. I'll be going to the desert of yesteryear, in the footsteps of a vanished Empire.
But first, I wanted to tell you a few things. I don't think you'll want to talk to me, so I'll put it in writing. Maybe it's better that way after all. So, if you don't want to listen to me, just throw this letter away immediately.
Are you staying? I'm fine. First of all, I'd like to talk to you about your mother. I know you didn't hold her close to your heart. But there are three things I learned from her.
Firstly, she taught me how to fight without saving myself. She really was the most gifted fighter, a real fury. I think Lyren inherited something from her. That animal instinct, that rage to win at all costs. When the stakes are high, sometimes you have to take all the risks.
Then she made me realize that there's a difference between lying and withholding the truth. All truths are good to tell to those you love. But sometimes, there are truths that need to be kept secret for a while. Even if it eats you up inside. For the sake of our loved ones.
Finally, your mother taught me that the road to truth is paved with horrible things. Your mother did a lot of bad things, but always with a good purpose. I'm not going to tell you about her experiences with the frippos she described to me, it's not the kind of thing you put down in writing. But I do know that she always had the quest for knowledge in mind.
I think you know what I mean when I tell you about your mother's qualities. Of course, I'm talking about her sacrifice. I didn't try to explain what I'd done at my trial. No one was really willing to hear the truth. Only Pephoan Kridix listened to me in my cell. I should have trusted him from the start. So in this letter, I'm going to tell this truth to you, my son. The cult of fyrak is the antithesis of fyros culture. They do not seek to fight the dragon, but to awaken it. To do so, they sacrifice homins. And they infiltrate all aspects of Fyros society. Don't think they're content to live in the depths and come out from time to time to kill someone. No, most adepts live in homin societies. Some even have a few responsibilities. You should know that this Pimokos freak, for example, was already high up. He was chief of the Dyron guards. A general! What do you think would have happened if I'd been convicted? He would have become a hero, the one who saved the Emperor. When sharükos died, we might have had a fyrak cultist at the head of the sharük! So, this infiltration probably saved the Empire. But this is the kind of reality we'd rather not see. The sharük is far too sure of its omnipotence to imagine collapsing. And yet, it has never been so weak.
If it takes away my guilt? Of course not. The fact that the cause is just has nothing to do with guilt. For one thing, am I really responsible for your mother's death? Part of me wonders if they captured her on purpose because of me or if she was already their captive. I don't know, and I'll always have this doubt. But you see, someone could certify that she was already their captive before I decided to infiltrate the adepts, and it wouldn't take away this feeling of guilt. For I feel this guilt in the actual killing, in the actual application. You, Lyren, sharükos, no one here, or so few, know what it is to really kill. To kill definitively. So you can imagine that killing one of our dearest loved ones, even if it's for a just cause, is a scar on the soul that stays with us forever. And I take no pride in this scar.
You see, son, I've long thought that we children of the Empire's underbelly were just as honorable as those up above. That we too deserved, by dint of hard work, to experience at first hand the advantages of a life among the elite. But we didn't. Fyros society is such that those who pull their heads out of the sawdust are no different from those who continue to crawl in. You're made to understand this when you dare to get too close to their privileges. You yourself will never be accepted on your own merit. And even if you start from a better starting line than I did at your age, you'll have to fight ten times harder to earn your place. But your place will always be precarious. You'll be an impostor in the eyes of the elite. And in the end, you'll end up doing what society expects you to do. The dirty work. The one without honor, without glory. The thankless job, the one that gives no gratitude. They'll point the finger at you like a murderer, because you dared to do what they wouldn't have dared to do. You'll get nothing. Worse, they'll take away what you've worked so hard to get.
And you see, it doesn't matter. I don't give a damn about their gratitude. I hate them, all of them, these traine-palais, these born goods. The only recognition I can hope to get is from the hard hearts of the sawdust fyros, like us, like your mother. But they won't say anything. This recognition is silent. Eeri and I were always ready to explode our anger. But when it came to showing gratitude, we were rather quiet. And yet, all it took was one look to understand that we loved and respected each other. That's the look I saw in her eyes before I killed her. It's that look, and only that look, that you can expect from sawdust fyros. But it's worth more than all the honors, all the titles, even more than the sacred fire.
Born of sawdust, we'll return to sawdust. That is our destiny. For a fyros must always fight the smoke that lifts him up to return to the depths to fight the dragon. And in this, we, crawling on the ground, already have a head start.
If you've reached the end of this letter, it's because you've improved your ability to concentrate. I want you to know that I'm proud of you, my son. I may have been a terrible father, but I did it for a good cause. And here again, I don't expect any gratitude from you. Being a father means crawling in the sawdust for the good of your offspring, without expecting anything in return. I love you, never doubt that.
On that note, take good care of your half-sister. Tell her that I forgive her for turning the Fyros legions from the yoke of the Kamis to the yoke of the Karavan. I hope that one day she'll understand that the Powers can be dispensed with, as her father and mother understood so well. And that if she wants revenge for my crime, she shouldn't hesitate to cross the road to Oflovak. I'll be happy to welcome her.
Go, follow your destiny, Uzykos, no matter how rough the path. And remember, son, your courage at every step.
Dad
During the Tryker Assembly, there were only homins dressed up, the building was so beautiful and there was even a new Governor! It was so weird! I still don't know who she was, by the way...
We've taken stock of the water route: we're back on our own, with no help from the Fyros! And with none of the promised rewards! They're so mean! Free labor? This is slavery!!! Sella! They didn't share anything! Not even a dapper!
I was told to complain to the Fyros! I already did that last time, but... This time it'll be clearer! I pull out the bill:
- resource harvesting: 100,000 dappers
- pick wear: 60,000 dappers
- barrel price: 80,000 dappers
- Mektoubs food: 70,000 dappers
- risk-taking on the unescorted return trip to Fairhaven: 200,000 dappers
That's a total of just 510,000 dappers. Friendly prices!
That's okay, it's not much for what it's worth... And I haven't counted the wear and tear on the boots and the repayment of my personal barrel reserve, but I like them so it's a gift!
Ostium, Jazzy and Ashgan taught me that my Byrh is too good and that it's just different from Ba''s, so don't compare it! TOR BYRH !!!!
So I drank my first bottle of Byrh in far too long, and... PAF! Ailan took back her place as Governor! Everyone's back to normal! And the ground is red again! YOUPIIIII!
Then they talked about taking away my ! In fact, they explained to me that I shouldn't have said we were going to starve when it wasn't true... But they scared me there too, with their not happy faces ! I panicked!
Quinteth, Mystia 5, 2nd AC 2626 (03/12/2023)
It's official! I'm no longer a Kamist! But I'm still going to use Kamis teleporters as much as possible, because the Karavan helping the slavers... Bad guys! I don't want it!
Dua, Harvestor 20, 4th AC 2626(04/01/2024)
Held by the Bolobi
Dua, Floris 26, 3rd AC 2632 (18/02/2025)
Azazor tried to poison the Emperor?! I don't believe it! Aza isn't like that! Aza's a good guy, and good guys don't poison people! But he said it himself... He's lying, isn't he? He hasn't really become a "Fyrakist", has he? A follower of Fyrak, the Grand Dragon Tout Choupi? Well... I don't think he's that Choupi after all... I say, Aza is just pretending! Or maybe someone forced him! But he said he killed in the name of Fyrak... And he was all weird! In any case, it wasn't because of the Goo, it doesn't do that, the Goo...
Holeth, Frutor, 06, 3rd CA 2632 (02/23/2025)
Kurutani showed me the tunnel she'd found to get into the room with the barrel Azazor said he'd poisoned. I've been around Pyr three times without seeing anything, she's too good, Kuru!
Maybe it was the cult of the Big Not-So-Choupi Dragon who dug it. Well, the tunnel, not Kuru! Le Gros Dragon Pas Si Choupi... Why does the Dragon have to be evil? Some say that when he wakes up, it'll destroy Atys... But... it's not that the Big Dragon will destroy Atys! It's just that when he stops sleeping, something will happen! Maybe he's not the bad guy! And first of all, what does the Dragon look like? Does there have to be only one, anyway? What if more than one wakes up? Maybe the Dragon is a Yubo, but his name is Dragon? If we know what he looks like, it's because someone has already seen him; but then, how did he know it was him?
Oh là là... It's all complicated... ! I'm going back to the bar!
Holeth, Nivia 6, 3rd AC 2632 (02/03/2025)
It was Azazor! And there was a member of the Cult of Fyrak among the empire's most important homins (a guard? I don't know, but he got away)! And Aza killed Pas-Ma-Grand-Mère-Eeri! As a sacrifice to enter the cult of Fyrak! He said he did it to infiltrate... But it's not fair! He had no right! That's just mean! Aza's a good guy, but he does bad things! Poor Eeri...
And now Aza is gone. I asked him where, and he said, "Where we should never have gone.
No idea where that is. I thought about the bar, but...
...we'll never see him again, will we?]]>
"talen begins and ends with the street sounds of Pyr".
Lyren couldn't remember who kept saying that. It was probably one of those old fyros who spread rumors as quickly as their dappers in the bars. In general, she tried not to pay too much attention to what was being said, noise, news, good or bad, as long as there was nothing official, or as long as she hadn't seen anything with her own eyes.
But then, why had the Empire itself remained silent? Why had there been no official communication? Was Thesos so far from Pyr? Did the Fyros capital so regard the inhabitants of the wild dunes as village bumpkins, walking knee-deep in sawdust and uttering lumper moans?
Still, the rumor was true.
Let's put things back in order, she says to herself. Point by point. And imagine how difficult a task this is, for a lumper brain. Er, fyros.
A mysterious fyros is appointed Professor of Kitinology. And that's all there is to it. One of the most important courses at the Imperial Academy, where the Sharük trains his elite troops.
The mysterious fyros has a burned face and looks exactly like Azazor.
The mysterious fyros is called Azazor. Ah, so it is him. Moving on.
The mysterious fyros has blood-red eyes, something Azazor didn't have before. Ah, now anyone would have deduced that there's already something wrong.
What's more, the mysterious fyros had disappeared in strange circumstances, in the depths of atys. Of course, Azazor was no stranger to this, but we didn't look any further. He's back, and we're happy.
Flashback: several fyros, including two officers of the fyros legions, were found headless a few years earlier. Some claim to have seen red-eyed homins on the prowl.
What's more, followers of the great dragon sect are said to have red eyes and to practice homin sacrifices, somehow destroying their seed of life and leaving their bodies headless.
So, apart from being an inbred degenerate, a lumper or a Matis nobleman, any normally constituted being has obviously understood several things:
First: There's something fishy going on here, and I'm even punching the dagger in the face to say it's even fishier than the fishiest of fishies.
Third: That's about all you need to deduce.
And secondly, considering that the shady individual, Azazor, was :
- formerly leader of the Fyros Legions,
- Uzykos' unworthy father, making him the half-brother of Lyren, herself now leader of the Leagues,
The reaction of the sharük, the imperial academy, in short, the empire, was:
- Here! Why don't we keep it a secret and appoint him Professor of Kitinology at the Imperial Academy? And what's more, we don't warn Lyren and the legionnaires, or even his own son that he's back, no, to tell the truth, talen, who cares a bit, dey?
- High five, celiakos, it'll go to cream.
- Yeah, they will. They'll know soon enough. That's what rumors are for.
- His red eyes, on the other hand, freak me out a bit. Maybe we should keep an eye on him?
- You bet. He's a fyros, he repeats talen all the time. I trust him, with my eyes closed.
- Yeah, maybe you're right. Let's keep our eyes closed.
****
But what kind of fungus was eating their brains? Was it the kamis that prevented them from having a little more gumption than a hungry najab? And how could they break the news to Uzykos, who since the rumors of his father's reappearance, had spent his time, day and night, waiting for him in the legions' hall? And how?
oren pyr Uzykos.
Your father reappeared, yeah, he didn't come to see you, seeing as he's now a follower of the great dragon sect, yes, the ones who decapitate homins and have red eyes. Yes, the rumors were true, he was a professor of kitinology, and now, on top of that, he's tried to poison Emperor Lykos and quite a few patriots and friends of the empire, including me, your half-sister, yes, he's also attacked a celiakos, and he'll soon be tried for high treason. He'll probably end up in Pyr's prisons for the rest of his life.
Face it, things aren't going to get any better on this front.
Come on, life goes on, let's have a shooki?]]>
"Cirrus" beckoned the guard to open the door. Resting his axe against the wall, the big homin took out a bunch of keys from his pocket.
Without a sound, the door opened, revealing a dark, narrow room.
Staeflina rose from her straw mattress in the corner, while "Cirrus" leaned against the opposite wall.
"Keeping quiet won't change your situation, Stae. On the other hand, if you give me a detailed report on the whole period of infiltration, we'll come to an arrangement. You don't want to stay in such a dark room until 'your' Jena decides you've suffered enough, do you?"
The master spy remained silent for a few moments.
"What else can you put on the market besides your release? What do you want in exchange? You know me, I'm not that cruel. I know good information when I hear it..."
The answer he got surprised him, but, he thought inwardly: "After all, if it amuses him..."
Emerging from the cell, "Cirrus" joined his valet, who was waiting at the foot of the tower with his mount.
"You will find me a scroll of the Messages from the Temples of Karavan as soon as possible. Strange as it may seem, our tenant wants some reading material."]]>
The young Matis sat down and picked up his izam feather.
Deles silam, filira Copal et serae Liosta.
May Jena bring joy and happiness to your little family!
My sincere congratulations and best wishes for the future to this nityae * serae who has just joined you.
Jena aiye !
--Cinabre Andertini--
]]>
Deles Silam!
I have a plie for Director D'Ore Altae!"
The employee glances scornfully at the deliveryman's unkempt appearance:
Show me?
Sil, don't take it.
_Laye maie, affix your signature here."
The very dignified employee:
Voila, Fila Ser... "
The Delivery Man wastes no time in waiting for the next step and slams the door, running to his next customer.
]]>
So it was true! Old Varynx is back!
The homine smiles and continues to observe.
He looks great.
She notes that he trains youngsters to survive a kincher attack.
She sees him swinging his heavy axe at the slow-moving students. To her surprise, no deaths, only minor injuries.
Is this him? Ney... I recognize his voice!"
The hominin catches sight of the old fyros, who stops for a moment.
He seems to be looking around for something.
After a few moments, his gaze settled on her as if he could see her...
Time to retire...]]>
He walked forward masked, observing the crowd gathered to cheer the child. No one noticed him. He ventured to remove his helmet. No one paid any attention to him. They were focused on the play unfolding before them.
Then it was his turn. He gave his bouquet, and spoke his truth. Through his mouth, the people speak.
Tamiela didn't seem to realize the full significance of this. The Karae was performing, true to her courtly game. Aniro-Karin was obviously more subtle. Her face showed perfect mastery. Impossible to draw any conclusions at this hour. But the message had got through, that was certain.
There was no reaction, barely a murmur from the assembly. They had already moved on.
Sylede withdrew quietly.
She barely raised her head when he made his report. The light flame of the brazier allowed her to discern a rare smile when he finished:
- The seed is sown, and when it breaks through the bark, it will produce a tree taller than ever...]]>
O'TaAAAAAA! sul F'sais koi?!
Ny-Lothie,
ny-antall how are you?
Sul sais Y come as soon as I can!
Show me how you've grown!"
O'tall takes out his sword and thrusts it into the bark.
the kid lines up on tiptoe with the sword.
The amused Great Drakhany waves his finger under Lothie's nose.
Come on, don't cheat, a Drakhani doesn't need that."
The child looks guilty and settles back down, making himself as tall as possible.
Lor! Sul as bien grandis ch'tite pousse.
Sul will become a strong and loyal Great Tryker, that's for sure!
Have you tried it?"
The child is already rummaging through the drakhani's bag.
Naaaan! You got Pan and ton?"
The homin smiles as he pulls out a still-warm brioche.
Certainly!
A huge Pan et Tonne Tor le ch'tit Zerx that I love!"
Cinabre had sat aside and was chatting with a Matisse dressed in mauve and black. Her blond hair was neatly combed and cut short. A dark amber symbol, depicting a tortured tree, was pinned to her doublet.
Finally, Cinabre nodded, and the hominin's features showed their satisfaction.
"Fila, ser Andertini she said in a relieved voice. "You really took an irena off my foot".
The young Matis nodded. The homine pretended to get up and walk away, but half-turning, she added:
"I certainly don't need to recommend absolute discretion... Meria naia, ser Andertini"
]]>
Kaze Antekamis contact the Federation to join Tryker society and live in the Lochi.
Are they really sincere? What is their real purpose?
A long roleplay story posted on the ryzom wiki
Here you'll find :
- Action! a little
- Roleplay history! enormously
- Chaï and Byrh! immensely
- Devilish plots! with Antekami, you can't expect anything less.
- And for the more curious, information on the Kaze Antekami, on Fakuang, on the Purple ...
Antekamis Kaze storylines
Thank you to all those who have contributed to roleplay on Ryzom.
This sequence of chronicles can sometimes seem a little disjointed, spanning several years of Jena and due to the multiple protagonists involved in the story, sometimes lacking an overall vision of the total story. What's more, several plots have been known to take place at the same time in different parts of the new lands. The compilation of stories may also appear imperfect, but they have been put together in such a way as to provide a comprehensible framework for the reader. Anyone wishing to add a further piece can do so.
The story of Atys continues endlessly ... it's up to you to take part ...
]]>
This silhouette is none other than me, a hominid hunted by a relentless hunter. I flatten out in a shaded area:
"I've escaped kitins and black monsters, and I'll escape him too. him. "
No sound in the vicinity. Several minutes pass, slow and suffocating. Suddenly, a growl is heard, echoed by numerous yelps all around me. A pack of Ragus emerges from the thicket to hunt!
I have to fight. I leap to my feet and thrust my blade into the body of the first attacker. But the others seemed more cunning, surrounding me and approaching me with open jaws, ready to strike. Without warning, they pounce with a single homin on their prey, and I don't know which way to turn. My legs ache as the sharp teeth penetrate my flesh and muscles. I stagger and fall under their weight.
A Ragus has spotted my neck and lunges, but doesn't reach his goal. A detonation sounds and he collapses. Other blows fly, considerably reducing the carnivores. The carnivores finally give up, as their new enemy has not yet shown himself. When they leave the square empty, I smile. A smile that soon fades as it is there, erect, proud and menacing. From his purple mask, he tells me serenely:
"Don't thank me, Horranis wants you all whole and alive."
He changes the ammunition in his revolver. He targets me and, without apprehension, fires a very special bullet into my left arm. I'm overcome by a total emptiness, which lasts for an indeterminate length of time.
I half-open my eyes, my mind still a blur, in a Matisse house, sitting in a corner, surrounded by armed homins. I hear snatches of conversation, most likely about my price, but I'm not sure if it's the right one. it doesn't seem to be satisfied. Knowing him in his usual state, I doubt his anger is pleasant.
Unexpectedly, he was expelled and threatened by the locals. I don't know who I hate more at this moment: those who threaten the man who tracked me down, or these same people who paid for my head. He steps through the door and the warning rings out:
"There are only two kinds of homins, Horranis. Those who pay the agreed price and those who frequent the care of the Powers of Atys."]]>
I confess: it's not impossible that my own positive assessment of Elke Miko's initiative was influenced by her greeting to my “gracious” contribution.
The fact remains:
— my distrust of “generative pretrained transformers” (who's the trainer?) equals yours (I've never even used one);
— the work carried out on my transcription is an attempt to write a summary, more easily readable and comprehensible (even if sometimes faulty) than a heap of minutes piling up lines and didascalies, but, like all summary work, it is forced to make choices;
— as I was planning to do the exercise in question “by hand” (since I broke my promise to do it for the previous meeting as well), ChatGPT get me out of a tight spot; let's not forget that the ideal homin of Matis people (and, in any case, mine) is a joking, even libertine and, above all, idle aristocrat);
— your contempt for “odds and ends” and your reverence for “serious discussions”, I (like our “returnee” Eloan) am far from sharing: reverence reserved for our Librarian President, I believe (much to your dismay?) that Atys is (and must remain) a place of play and joy, not of “head-scratching”;
— in my opinion, it is precisely Nair Zorro'argh, who is responsible to the Web for our Great Library, who is entitled to decide what can and cannot be published there.
Jena be with you!]]>
Kami'ata Nu'o Mi and Pa.
Nu arrived well in Yrkanis.Su trip went li'bien.
Nu regrets that Niu we went earlier. Su is a MAGNIFICENT city!
Ari'kami from the bottom of my heart for this beautiful gift.
Nu were zo'well welcomed by siu Frefini spouses, Copal Kito and Liosta Miko. Siu nu gave us a tour of the city. We went to the "Grand'Sair"where Su had a beautiful Rotoa. Liu knew that siu Matis had managed to grow a rotoa on the surface. Su nu was astonished.
We also saw the siu'o king's palace. Su is an architectural marvel.
Liosta Miko nu introduced Canillia Miko, a su'o acquaintance. Su is also li'kind: su nu has offered her hospitality for the night. Su has a li'pretty apartment in Yrkanis. Nu spent a comfortable night, and Nu su is li'grateful.
Mata Waki and kisses, Mi and Pa,
liu'o Staeflina.
