ROLEPLAY

                                   
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.

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.

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. 

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. 

Cela fait des heures que je grimpe. Maintenant que je peux enfin me poser, il faut que je revienne sur cette soirée avec les Maraudeurs, la dernière avant mon escalade. Ce fut un choc, on peut le dire. Le groupe que j’accompagnais jusqu’ici devait se rendre dans l’un de ces campements semi-permanent dont on m’avait parlé. On m’y invitait donc à partager un repas et à y dormir avant mon départ le lendemain.

On s’était réuni dans une sorte de grotte particulièrement gigantesque à laquelle on accédait après le parcours de nombreux tunnels dans la falaise. L'entrée dans la grotte se faisait par un étroit tunnel après l'escalade d'un tumulus bloquant l'entrée. On m'avait expliqué que jadis l'entrée était beaucoup plus grande mais un éboulement avait été déclenché volontairement pour en bloquer l'entrée lors d'une bataille épique contre les kitins. C'est en me racontant cette bataille que j'entendais pour la seconde fois, après Barmie Dingle, parler des Flamboyants. Contrairement à ce que j'avais cru, il n'y avait pas que les kipestas à porter ce nom de flamboyant. En fait, on donnait ce nom à toute la nouvelle génération de kitins rouges apparus dans le désert, le terme de dragon rouge étant spécifiquement employé pour désigner ces kipestas géants, car leur feu était particulièrement destructeur et leur abdomen hérissé d'épines. Lors de cette bataille, de nombreux Maraudeurs avaient alors péris en tentant de défendre l'entrée de la grotte où s'était réfugié nombre d'entre eux. Depuis, cette grotte était devenu un symbole pour beaucoup. Les Flamboyants avaient continué de proliférer, rendant quasi inaccessible l'accès au désert. Ceux-ci étaient d'ailleurs, d'après les Maraudeurs, traqués et visés en priorité par la Karavan.

A l’intérieur de la grotte était installé un immense campement visiblement bien moins rustique que les précédents. Il y avait une sorte d’infirmerie dans une tente, un coin cuisine avec de quoi cuisiner pour un régiment entier, une étable pleine de mektoubs, des centaines de lits creusés dans les parois et même des sortes de bacs remplis d’eau pour se laver. Ici et là, quelques appareils et outils me rappelèrent que les Maraudeurs maitrisaient une technologie assez évoluée, liées d'une manière ou d'une autre aux Puissances.

En hauteur au niveau des parois, on pouvait voir plusieurs trous reliés entre eux par des passerelles. Il devait donc y avoir d'autres salles derrière les parois et sur plusieurs étages. C’était une véritable petite cité miniature, éclairée à la lumière de gigantesques braseros. L’un des marauds qui nous accompagnaient, probablement un peu trop bavard, m’expliqua qu’il y avait également une armurerie, des laboratoires et une bibliothèque quelque part, cachés dans ce dédale de tunnels menant à la grotte qui, elle, faisait office de hall d'accueil principal.

Mais ce qui m’étonna le plus, ce fut les enfants. J'imaginais jusqu’alors la Citadelle comme un immense champ de bataille, et je trouvais pourtant là des enfants, des vieillards, tout un tas d’homins que je ne m’attendais pas à trouver ici.

Finalement, je compris que cette grotte faisait office de lieux de repos mais aussi de zones de recherche et de points de repli en cas d’attaques massives, comme cela arrivait parfois. Ces rares espaces étaient en réalité les seules zones stationnaires de la Citadelle. Les points névralgiques de cette cité mobile, reconfigurée au grès des défaites et des victoires. Pourtant, rien ne certifiait que les kitins ne réussissent pas à prendre ces endroits, comme cela était déjà arrivé quelques fois. Ainsi, tout était pensé pour pouvoir être déplacé facilement, en témoigneait la forme du mobilier et les nombreux mektoubs équipés comme s'ils étaient sur le départ.

La soirée fut enrichissante, notamment sur le plan culturel. C'est en les voyant rire avec leurs proches, parler de leur dernière journée, s'aider dans les taches quotidiennes, jouer de la musique et danser que je compris définitivement que ces Maraudeurs ne correspondaient pas à l'idée que nous nous en faisons. Leur capacité à se créer des moments de vies, alors qu'a quelques dizaines de kilomètres à l'Est, un essaim gigantesque de kitins menaçaient de fondre sur la Route d'Oflovak, générait en moi des émotions confuses. Du respect, mais aussi un étrange sentiment de fierté. En observant ces Maraudeurs, je me rappelais que les premiers d'entre eux furent des Fyros. Des Fyros qui décidèrent de ne pas fuir face aux kitins, de se battre pour conserver leurs terres, et qui menaient encore aujourd'hui ce combat. J'en arrivais même à éprouver une certaine colère contre l'Empire de l'époque de Cerakos II, ayant abandonné son peuple pour fuir les kitins.

À ma grande surprise, ce soir là, nombreux d'entre eux partagèrent des moments avec moi. Leur convivialité m'étonna. Certes, ils me considéraient comme un étranger, et me firent gentillement comprendre qu'il ne fallait pas insister lorsque je les questionnai sur les liens qui les unissaient aux Puissances et leur demandai si je pouvais consulter la bibliothèque... Pour le reste, ils semblaient heureux de partager cette soirée avec quelqu'un venu d'aussi loin, et me posèrent un certain nombre de questions. Surtout que cette fois-ci, l'étranger n'était pas un Ranger ! J'étais un étranger parmi les étrangers. Je crois aussi qu'ils respectaient beaucoup que j'ai entrepris un voyage aussi dangereux pour mener à bien mes recherches. Comme dans la société fyrosse, le Courage, l'Honneur et la Vérité étaient des concepts forts de la société maraudeur.

Pourtant, plusieurs centaines de kilomètres à l'ouest, Akilia menait une guerre sale contre les nations des Nouvelles Terres, n'hésitant pas à recruter des criminels et à commettre des actes terroristes. Pourquoi tant de différences ? J'osais poser la question à l'un de mes hôtes qui me commanda expressément, à voix basse, de changer de sujet. Un Fyros qui passait près de notre groupe à ce moment là entendit toutefois ma question et se lança dans un monologue vindicatif pour justifier la politique menée par Akilia. Puis, levant la tête vers une passerelle au dessus de lui, il tourna les talons et partit en maugréant. Je levais alors la tête et vit que des gardes s'étaient arrêtés pour nous surveiller. Ainsi, de ce que je pus en voir, à la Citadelle se côtoyaient des pro et des anti Akilia. Probablement même que beaucoup ne prenaient pas partie, à l'image de mes hôtes qui s'empressèrent de changer de sujet, visiblement mal à l'aise.

Un Tryker me dit plus tard, sous le ton de la confidence, que si les pro Akilia étaient présents en minorité à la Citadelle, et mal vus par beaucoup - car soupçonnés de fomenter des complots - ils étaient néanmoins admis en ces lieux. Premièrement, car nombre d'entre eux étaient membres des clans les plus anciens, de l'époque de Melkiar, et faisaient partie des Maraudeurs les plus puissants et craints. Deuxièmement, car les conflits entre les différents clans étaient depuis toujours monnaie courante, et qu'il était implicitement admis qu'aucune dissension ne doive jamais mettre en danger la société maraudeure. Troisièmement, car la Citadelle était le foyer de tous les Maraudeurs, et qu'en être définitivement bannis représentait la peine la plus lourde qui soit... Le Tryker rajouta cependant que le plus important, et ce sur quoi tous se rejoignaient, était le combat pour la survie et contre les kitins. Imaginer que la société maraudeure doive sa cohésion, et donc son existence, à la présence d'un essaim monstrueux aux portes de la Citadelle, me parut tristement ironique...

Finalement, je terminai ma soirée en racontant à des enfants l'Histoire du Culte du Grand Dragon. Ce fut un vrai bonheur que de voir leurs yeux à la fois émerveillés et terrifiés devant les aventures de Liriope. Je ne pensais pas trouver des enfants ici, si près du danger. Je les imaginais tous à Sentinelle, mais c’était une erreur. La Citadelle était le cœur des maraudeurs, là où battait la vie. Et en voyant ces enfants de maraudeurs, je pensai au mien...