The Misfits - Flexin' the Arm of Orion.
A Quest where you and your friends cruise the galaxy as you survive deadly challenges through the power of cybernetics, companionship and music.
You are a low class Kirlean who was thrown in the mix by either dumb luck or a call of destiny. Initially you don't know what to expect but you can't shake the feeling that you're about to be part of something that will rock your world.
In the vastness of the cosmos lies a red dwarf. Petty in comparison with other brighter and bigger bodies, that solar system was selected as testing grounds by a being of immense power and unsurpassed knowledge. For its work there, this being became known as 'The Maker'.
Using your planet Kir'hul as a canvas, the Maker took pity upon your kind. Though fragile, teetering on the precipice of oblivion, succumbing to the constant acid rain and frigid conditions of the planet, the Maker saw potential in your species.
Through a combination of genetic enhancements, selective breeding and improvements to the planet through terraforming and environmental controls, the Maker uplifted your people, bestowing them newfound strength, resilience and abilities beyond their wildest dreams. They gifted your people with the knowledge to control their surroundings, manipulate energy and the means to make their planet substantially more livable.
Cities with controlled environments were formed, housing and at the same time isolating the two strains that built their society: the Terrestian Kirleans - known for their size, strength, and resilience - and the Arboreal Kirleans - known for their slender, quick build and two pairs of arms.
Yet, these advancements were seen as abhorrent to other similarly powerful beings whom tales would refer to as Sky Demons.
Though your people do not know the truth of how it began, it is unquestionable that the Maker's defiance and defense of your people escalated the conflict. The Sky Demons descended upon Kir'hul and struck with relentless fury. Gone were the cities and the technological hubs that once kept so many safe from the planet's harshness. Destroyed were the hopes and aspirations of thousands of your people as they saw their benefactor laid low by the hands of the Sky Demons.
What remained of your people ran to whatever safety they could find, returned to that vulnerable condition of so long ago. And yet your people were stronger than they once were, enhanced by the Maker's work.
The Terrestrials descended into the caves, sheltered from the acid rains by strong stone and stronger bonds. Their strength served them well tunneling in the depths, and their resonant voices kept them in contact even when far apart.
The Arboreals ascended into the trees, the vast trees half a kilometer tall in forests thousands of kilometers across. Their size and speed served them well, hunting the colossal crabs there and using their shells for shelter.
Hundreds of years later, and through sheer luck and need to survive, your people re-discovered the cities built during the Golden Age.
Initially using them as a shelter, it became a pillar to start anew. With the discovery and recovery of the technology that powered the city's systems and energy sources, it felt like the dawn of a new era. The isolated strains of your species met once more, and the strengths of both served your people well.
For a time, the Kirleans flourished, creating settlements for the first time since the Golden Age. This era of relative peace allowed the two strains to properly interact with one another and create a new strain through their breeding: the Hybrids.
Feeling alienated from their origins, they sought to create a place for themselves. It was this desire, added with the aspiration to surpass the main strains, that led them to explore the planet in search for the other lost cities, research, reverse engineer the technologies and build a society as they envisioned the Maker would have in the past. In time, the Hybrids sought the stars and began colonizing the space above the planet's surface.
However, their pursuit of knowledge and perfection became insatiable, bordering on obsession. Soon they began to raid the settlements from their ancestors, taking their lands and harnessing untapped technology they barely understood.
As the Hybrids pushed their evolution further, some of them achieved a higher status.
Named Elites, they quickly became the head of a newly established caste system they enforced on Kirlean society, pushing ones beneath them to conform to their new principles. The Elites pushed ever onward, focused on achieving the ultimate form of their species while detaching themselves from the principles of their now forgotten benefactor.
You are a Kirlean from the lowest of castes, drawn to participate in a strange and extraordinary destiny. The legends of the Maker, the surge of the Hybrids, the rise of the Elites and the excited screams from the gladiatorial arena known as the 'Death Pits' converge upon you. You are in a room that holds 3 of their longest surviving champions, each with a story of their own to tell.
You don't know exactly what the future holds for you but somehow you can't shake the feeling that from here on, your decisions may well hold the potential to shape the course of Kirlean history once more.
The gates leading to the arena creak as they begin to rise, and the cheers from the crowd grow louder.
You remind yourself where you came from and who you are as you move forward.
"Welcome to The Misfits - Flexin' the Arm of Orion"
This quest will use an unholy cross between the CK2 and Storyteller systems, wherein your character will possess six traits: Prowess, Martial, Learning, Stewardship, Intrigue, and Diplomacy. Your rating in that trait determines your dice pool, and when a check happens you will roll that many d10. A result of 6 or above will count as a success, and 10s will count twice.
Stats will increase through use! Each time you succeed on a roll using a stat, you'll gain 1 EXP, and each failure will give 2 EXP. These are tracked separately for each stat. When you have (Current Rating * 2) EXP in a stat, EXP will reset to 0 and your rating in that stat will increase by 1.
Oh, and each fight will give Prowess EXP one time at the end, based on whether you overall win or lose the fight.
The NPCs that make up the Misfits will have some modifications to this that will be explained later, but you don't need to worry about that right now. Combat, too, will be explained later when it's more relevant.
For the moment, it's time to choose your background! Each one comes with a distribution of stats and a lot of in-character knowledge.
Click to see the Quest Starter Post
In order to begin this quest, here's your first choice that will define your PoV character.
There are a total of 6 possible scenarios to start with, 3 per type of Original Kirlean strain:
If choosing Terrestrial Strain, these are the choices for startup
Fermenting assistant - Some clusters of Terrans are known to carry the tradition of creating a sweet and sour drink by fermenting a hardy fruit in their guts. The process, variations and procedure vary from cluster to cluster with some defending their method as 'authentic' in comparison with others. Your character comes from a cluster whose elder's fermented drink is exalted as a perfectly balanced delicacy that has even caught the attention of the Elites. Your birth mother is convinced that if they get a space to promote their drink during the Death Matches, sales will be tripled. You're not sure but you really can't say no to her. You bring a case of 6 to the coliseum and after explaining how you can't go back without promoting your product the ringmaster lets you in. . .on the condition that the promo is live during a match. You gulp. Well, better being slashed by a monster than getting your mother's heart crushed, right?
Stat Distribution Diplomacy: 5 Martial: 2 Stewardship: 6 Intrigue: 4 Learning: 8 Prowess: 3
Maestre in Training - . . .that's at least what you present yourself as to others. A Maestre is a Kirlean trained in both vocal performance and techniques to take advantage of the unique acoustics of the cave systems. There have been stories of Maestres whose voices are so otherworldly it could only be described as provided by the Maker themselves. You were traveling from door to door, offering your services for entertaining reunions and birthday parties. It was at one of these birthday parties that you heard a voice via the holodisplay that instantly grabbed you. It was a contender at the Death Pits who. . .somehow was singing as he was slaying? This was something you had to go and see. You went excitedly to get tickets. You realized you have no credits. You snuck in. You stumbled upon some guards. Somehow your bluffing has convinced them that you had always been part of the singer's crew. You're allowed in but you're not allowed to leave. Is this bad luck or the chance you were waiting for?
Stat Distribution Diplomacy: 7 Martial: 3 Stewardship: 2 Intrigue: 8 Learning: 2 Prowess: 6
Deep ground Azurr Miner - A highly dangerous job but it has the perk that it gives you a lot of credits. Also a quick retirement, though the conditions on how you retire vary from experience (usually dead). They work closely with Science Team in the extraction, carrying and processing of Azurr into Azterlite. This job is also tightly surveilled to prevent acquisition of the material by the workers, though usually this often ends badly.
One day, you and 3 co-workers are tasked to drive a fairly large container at the Death Pits. You frown. You ask what's about but rather than responding to you they comment about giving double the credits for finishing the job. Once at the colosseum, the ringmaster orders you to drive the vehicle into the arena and unload the contents there. The content is a monstrosity of immeasurable size and… teeth? Tentacles? 2 of your co-workers have already been swatted away by the thing. At a distance, as you run to get away from the behemoth you've just unleashed, the largest kirlean you have ever seen steps out into the arena. The crowd cheers. You conclude that the job sucks.
Stat Distribution Diplomacy: 3 Martial: 4 Stewardship: 5 Intrigue: 3 Learning: 6 Prowess: 8
If choosing Arboreal Strain, these are the choices for startup
Shell crafter - A shell crafter is an artisan who masterfully works the shell of crabs, long legged lobsters and snails into artifacts that can be used as musical instruments, decorative accessories or cooking. Your cluster specializes in creating crab-based dutch ovens which can capture the flavor of previous dishes and enhance the next. You are rather remarkable at your crafting skills and you often comment that your cooking abilities have influenced what would make a better pot. One day, out of nowhere, you are summoned to a court trial: apparently one of the Elites was found dead from food poisoning with one of your pots used to cook their meal as one of the causes behind it. You try to plead but you're immediately silenced, sentenced to death via the pits. You are now waiting for your execution, pondering what kind of meal it had to be to react that badly with one of your pots.
Stat Distribution Diplomacy: 4 Martial: 3 Stewardship: 4 Intrigue: 6 Learning: 7 Prowess: 4
Cartographer - As a young nymph (term akin to 'child' for Kirleans), epic stories of exploration and adventure from the era of re-discovery had you fascinated to the point that when it came to pick up a career you sought to become a renowned cartographer: ready to be part of the next expedition that would discover new lands, forgotten cities and new horizons.
Unfortunately, by the time you had enough credentials to be selectable you discovered that explorations described by such stories had pretty much ended long before your parents were even born. On top of that, whatever exploration was pretty much directed by carefully crafted and calibrated drones built for that exact purpose. Which brings us to present time at the bar where you work as a server. It's a rowdy place located in the outskirts of the capital city that seems to attract all kinds of troublemakers, one of which grabs your arm as you serve him and begins babbling something about a map he's just obtained and how he's going to make lots of credits out of what's in there. You're about to ask about this supposed map when enforcers force their way in, searching for the individual - at least that's what he says before shoving a thumbdrive into your hands and sprinting off as best as he could. He gets promptly shot, as with anyone else that becomes overly confrontative. You get detained for collusion and without a trial get thrown into one of the cells inside the colosseum - the dreaded 'Death Pits'. You're not exactly sure what's going on but, there's a sense of satisfaction in you now that you know there is still much to explore. For now, you hope you can survive long enough to see what's in the map you have hurriedly shoved inside your body before getting caught.
Stat Distribution Diplomacy: 3 Martial: 6 Stewardship: 1 Intrigue: 6 Learning: 7 Prowess: 5
Crab hunter - Crabs in Kih'rul are of many sizes and varieties. For the most part, they have two things in common: how delicious they can be and how useful their carapaces are. You are a crab hunter, possibly the best your cluster has produced. Unfortunately, your cluster-mates are leaf weavers. Still, you're good enough to watch other hunters fight a Giant Plated Crab, which can reach sizes up to 50 ft tall, without getting eaten and that is a legitimate accomplishment. Though you know you've improved since you started, you feel like the thrill of hunting crabs is starting to wear off. Enticed by the prospect of better pay and the chance to make a name for yourself, you made the bold decision to register at the coliseum and become one of their many gladiators. Recently you've heard stories of a smaller biped who has fended off monsters almost as big as some of the crabs you've hunted. If he can do it, then surely you can. Your cluster and friends worry for you dearly, but you'll show them you can make it!
Stat Distribution Diplomacy: 3 Martial: 8 Stewardship: 3 Intrigue: 5 Learning: 2 Prowess: 7
Bio - Formerly a bartender, I was dragged into the pits due to undisclosed reasons. The opportunity of being part of the team both excites and terrifies me.
Stats
Diplomacy
3
Martial
6
Stewardship
1
Intrigue
6
Learning
7
Prowess
5 + 1 (From Claw)
Special Trait
None for now.
Equipped Items
Auxiliary Claw - A weapon Rempant built for my use at my match in the Pit. It packs a surprising punch! [ + 1 in Prowess]
Death Pits Info
Bio - Youngest male of a cluster of 10. Hatched and raised in a commune located in the northeastern forests of the Capital specialized in herding gray haired spiders.
Ventured into the Capital and worked as an unlicensed tour guide and bar tender where he doubled as a black market agent.
Reason for apprehension - Counterfeit and Contraband.
Rigel - The Maestre of Death
Species/ Build - Mo'tha'fu'keh Hyu'man (?)
Bio - A strange alien from an unknown planet that was captured by a raid. He likes music a lot.
Stats
Diplomacy
5
Martial
7
Stewardship
3
Intrigue
8
Learning
2
Prowess
8
Special Trait
???
Equipped Items
Plastic Music Box - An object Rigel carries around with him that plays music where ever he goes. Apparently he can control the sound booth at the Arena with it too.
Death Pits Info
Bio - Brought to Kir'hul as a raid trophy, he was put to the test in a gladiatorial fight from which he emerged victorious to the crowd's disbelief. Quick minded and nimble, he has shown time and time again his combat skills which he pairs with displays of music and acrobatics.
Montaak - The Cursed Elite
Species/ Build - Azurr augmented Terran
Bio - A giant with a quiet and gentle disposition. He often keeps things to himself. Hard to read.
Stats
Diplomacy
6
Martial
2
Stewardship
4
Intrigue
4
Learning
7
Prowess
10
Special Trait
Montaak - Azurr Bulk
Add +n bonus on Prowess when using Azurr based attacks. Each turn it will increase the value of n by +2 , which caps at +10 if unused. May be distributed (i.e. 2 Azurr attacks with a +1 bonus if n = 2). Players may opt to use the bulk to heal Montaak once per battle. When Bulk is used it must be used in its entirety and it will reset the bonus down to 0 until next turn. | Current Bulk: 0
Traits Montaak - Azurr immunity
Azurr based attacks have a -10 effectiveness against his prowess. Completely unaffected by Azurr poisoning.
Equipped Items
None
Death Pits Info
Bio - Science Team's most successful result from 'Project Talon' - as of now - which focuses on methods to augment our species with the intent of unlocking the next stage of evolution through the application of azurr.
Subject has doubled in size, exhibits remarkable levels of stamina, and generates Azurr to attack his foes. Furthermore, no cognitive degeneration has been detected.
Rempant - The Immortal Soldier
Species/ Build - Terrestrial based Elite Kirlean
Bio - A supposedly retired solder who has decided to continue fighting in the pits. He looks and sounds rough but he seems to have a soft spot.
Stats
Diplomacy
2
Martial
10
Stewardship
3
Intrigue
5
Learning
6
Prowess
8
(-3 in rolls due to DifO)
Special Trait
Rempant - Cybernetics
Rempant's cybernetics affect his mobility and directly adjusts his prowess stat.
Trait
Rempant - Dying is for others
Rampant may choose to sacrifice his cybernetics to avoid all damage done in a turn. Doing so will reduce his Prowess rolls by 3 (Prw - 3) per piece lost until he regains them. All cybernetic stat bonuses granted by the lost pieces are lost.
Equipped Items
Deathgrip - The nickname for his right cybernetic arm. A repurposed industrial gripper with an extendable claw, its frequent usage has made it stiff and unwieldy. Since oil or basic tools aren't readily available at the pits, all he can use it for is for raw punch power. | Bonus points from Enhancement: 0 / Status : Eaten by the Azurr during their last Death Match.
The Kicker - The nickname for his left cybernetic leg. Originally part of a magnetic crane, constant kicking has broken much of the systems that make it function as anything more than a leg. A leg that can still smash a face pretty good. | Bonus points from Enhancement: 0
Death Pits Info
Bio - Raised among the ranks of the Warrior caste, he has been successful both in the battlefield as a soldier and as a squad leader. Due to his outstanding work, discipline, and diligence, he was granted the rank of Master Commander. As a way to keep his skill sharp, he has offered his services in the Arena as its most long lived gladiator.
Bio - A pretty lady with a questionable past. Whatever she used to work as taught her how to use hand weapons proficiently.
Stats
Diplomacy
7
Martial
3
Stewardship
5
Intrigue
10
Learning
2
Prowess
6 + 1 (From Bolt Gun)
Special Trait
Zagusha - Venture
Zagusha may spend Favor on any non-combat roll she's involved with, gaining a +1 bonus to the roll per Favor spent along with the following additional effects if 3 or more Favor is spent:
If her roll is successful, a bonus menu will always follow.
If her roll is a failure, she will gain 2 EXP as normal but will not suffer penalties.
Current favor points : 1
Trait
Zagusha - Favor
Zagusha may ask other characters to perform actions on her behalf. These actions give +1 EXP on success or failure in addition to the normal effects of that action. Botches on these actions give an additional +1 EXP, and the penalty of that botch is applied to Zagusha instead. Success on the assigned action increases Zagusha's Favor by 1.
Equipped Items
Electro-Plasma Bolt Gun -A self describing gun that can shoot both rounds of plasma and electricity. [ + 1 in Prowess ]
Death Pits Info
Bio - Hatched and raised in the Capital, heiress from a cluster of entrepreneurs descended from the first explorers that retook the city during the era of Exploration. That is, at least what her records show. Due to her crimes, these have casted a shadow of doubt about her true persona. Well trained in long range combat and weaponry.
Reason for apprehension - Fraud. Genetic muddling. Embezzlement.
Tilenk - The Avant-Garde Genius
Species/ Build - Arboreal based Elite Kirlean
Bio - A very quirky old man who seems to mumble a lot to himself. He also seems to be easily fascinated with things.
Stats
Diplomacy
3
Martial
3
Stewardship
8
Intrigue
6
Learning
10
Prowess
3
Special Trait
Tilenk - Inspiration
Each time Tilenk performs a Learning action, he gains a stacking +1 bonus to the next Learning action he takes that does not share a topic with the current learning action. Bonus resets to zero when used. | Current Inspiration value: 2
Information about your local star system, mega-structures that have been built in it and more.
KIR'HUL
A planet that is roughly 80% of Earth's size. The planet exhibits a bigger Axial tilt of 30º +/- which results in constant rains and storm fronts. Due to the composition of the planet's atmosphere and the a higher concentration of alkaline metals, rain is acidic.
Average planetary temperature is at 5ºC with average highs of 35ºC and lows of -80ºC. Highest registered temperatures were around 42ºC, while the lowest was -120ºC.
*N'AKAT
An artificial satellite built as a platform by the Elites that sought the stars. Currently serves as Science Team's main research hub and High Command's seat. Few privileged citizens of the highest of strata and genetic development are also known to live here.
Montaak said:
"We have built a satellite specifically for that. N'akat, it is called. Certainly, it contains the quarters where both Science Team operates and High Command resides but, the reason we even do research there is because we are actively surveying the planet. Surely you have seen our maps before, haven't you?"
Planets your crew either have heard of, come from or have visited. Data will be updated as more information is discovered.
RIGEL'S PLANET
More data is needed.
SEI'KA'S PLANET
More data is needed.
You, your space neighbors and more
KIRLEANS
The tales of your people, according to you, your comrades and some databases you've managed to get ahold of.
Kirlean strains
TERRESTRIAL STRAIN
Lizard-like creatures with armored outer scales similar to pangolins and with a tough and strong build. Their large claws are good for digging and crushing stones. They have bulky carapaces on their head which protects them from falling debris much like a helmet would do. They do not poses a tail Capable of using a wide range of vocal tones to bounce around the walls for echo-location purposes.
They are known for building large communities within underground cave systems.
Often, their carapace is one color and the skin another, their hue pallet ranging between copper brown to dark gray. In rare cases they may present hyperpigmentation which leads them to have either a very dark shade of gray or black.
ARBORIEAL STRAIN
Smaller, agile lizard-like creatures with outer scalers not too dissimilar to armadillos. They possess two sets of arms, the upper - main - set longer than the lower which are often tucked on the sides of their torso. These supplementary arms are often used for securing themselves better to the branches or as auxiliaries when the main set of arms are in use. Females use them specially to hold onto their eggs when they hang on the trees. They possess a long tail, about half the length of their body, which they use for balance and swatting things from below. Capable of jumping up to 4 times their body height.
They are known for building huts on top of the branches of large trees that can grow up to a kilometer tall.
Their skin has patches of colors that vary between light maroon to warm dark gray while their scales are usually of a single tone of color. In rare cases, they may present degrees of albinism which may lead them to have pink patches or have their skin be completely white, carapace included.
*HYBRIDS
A strain created from the crossbreeding of the original strains. Their build, strength and other physical abilities tend to be an average of those who bore them. The results have too many variances to consider and some are blessed with the outcome while others are burdened with it.
*ELITES
The result of a overly careful and hyper focused crossbreeding between Hybrids and the Original strains with the purpose of purging all genetic defects to create the perfect version of the Kirlean race. Though they possess a diverse gene pool, it is tightly controlled via artificial insemination mixed eugenics. They consider themselves the pinnacle of their kind, spending their resources and focus on pushing forward their evolution.
Kirlean Society
CORE BELIEFS
Kirleans are based on a communal society that doesn't really take into account the needs or being of an individual. An individual is there to enhance or to better their society as a whole, either via skills learned, passing on their good genes or dying for the commune
Based on old stories, what few remain intact passed on via oral tradition and written in parchment by scribes, Kirleans above all seek to ascend to a level of evolution similar or close to the Maker. This, in theory, should allow them to not only reach out further away from their known universe but a whole other reality. Reach a level some other species would call divinity. As such, the importance of an individual is mainly measured on how much it helps the community to reach that goal.
CLUSTER DYNAMICS
Individuals form smaller groups within a larger community. This is called a 'Cluster'. Each cluster takes care of their members and is sometimes represented by one individual in larger gatherings or when it comes to decision making.
Clusters can be of varying sizes but they usually hold about 10 breeding sets. These sets can be singular - 1 pair - or multiple - polygamous. These sets may change per cycle if agreed upon or may remain as if during the entirety of the relationship. Colloquially, a breeding set is known as 'core cluster'.
A elders in the cluster often work as gatekeepers when adding new members to a cluster to ensure the prosperity of it. They would also be involved when members of their cluster move to another one and may discuss their member's incursions with the receiving party. This is to ensure harmony within their members and the lessen any negative impact any individual may have which may be deterring in their survival.
If an individual from a cluster causes trouble, the elders run a trial to determine their fate which may exile the individual or the core cluster they are involved in. In severe cases, execution via battle may take place. In the cities, while the inner cluster tribunals are expected, they opt instead push out the problematic individual to the civil court system which weighs heavily against the accused and usually leads to punishment. The punishment range between full relinquishing of individual rights via servitude to death.
*Kirlean Caste System
ORIGINAL KIRLEAN STRAINS
Considered savage, dumb and overall cannon fodder. They are the source of foot soldiers, menial task workers and Science Team specimens. While in the cities they are constantly bombarded with propaganda and violent entertainment meant to dull their minds and make them complacent to their leaders, they thrive in their rural communities where tight bonds between clusters are forged and looked after. The Elites laugh at their silly efforts but allow them to continue existing so they may continue serving as a pool they can draw genes from.
HYBRIDS
Being the descendants between the two original strains, they are valued for their diverse gene pool and the variations generated from the crossbreeding. Most of them could be considered High low class or middle class, the more opulent clusters living in exclusive areas in the Capital's downtown where genetic perfection is a must if one even considers joining among their ranks. These high class hybrids are descended from those who either have direct contact with Elites either by providing genetic material or proven their skills to be worth noticing. Regardless of their status, Hybrids remain continuously ostracized the remaining groups in their kind due to their unique status: too different from the original strain to fit in and yet too undeveloped to be part of the Elites.
ELITES
Highly educated hybrids that are bred via careful genetic sampling and manipulation with the goal of enhancing the species. In their beliefs, while they see no need for a Maker, they continue to be driven by the innate need to achieve a state of 'Perfect Evolution'. They seek only people in 'their level' - whether it means genetic level or societal level is up to debate - and will only look at the 'lower strata' when seeking for genetic variances that they find useful. The Elites are divided in 4 groups: Commanders, Science Team, Dealers and Warriors.
HIGH COMMAND
The absolute rulers of Kih'rul. They pride themselves with having the best of their kind among their ranks,
They are said to descend from those who pushed beyond their limits and reached space, establishing their quarters in N'akat and using their will to conquer and dominate their home planet.
They rarely go to the surface below.
The culling process to allow other Elites to ascend to this level is near impossible and reserved to a select few that have been bred for that purpose.
Common Knowledge
TIME MEASSUREMENTS
1 second = 1 tik
1 minutes = 1 kip
1 hour = 1 jit
1 day = 1 eka.
1 eka = 15 jits
184 ekas = 1 cycle
1 week = 1 enk. A Kirlean enk is composed of 15 ekas.
12 enks = 1 cycle
1 month = 1 lenk. A Kirlean lenk is composed of 2 enks.
1 year = (solar) cycle. Each cycle is composed of 6 lenks.
Number system based on 20.
KIRLEAN NAMING CONVENTIONS
Kirlean names that end with a consonant are assigned to males while those that end in a vowel (a,i,e,u,o,æ) are for females. Names ending in 'n' or 'y' are considered neutral.
HYU'MAN
Apparently, Rigel is one of these. Formerly known as Mo'tha'fu'keh
Rigel said:
But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure cruise
I consider it a challenge before
The hyu'man race
And I ain't gonna lose
Not a lot of information is known. Presumably they are psychic insectoids.
Your 101 guide to Azurr
ABOUT AZURR
Hawk said:
Azurr is a remarkable substance.
Discovered in tightly secured vaults left in the ancient cities during the Era of Exploration, it was through its understanding and harnessing that our species as a whole was capable of reaching advancements at an incredible speed.
A gel like, bluish glowing goo energy dense enough to power cities and spaceships alike.
Just as we knew of its great benefits, we knew of its terrifying properties: if not properly refined, a single drop was certain to be fatal.
The obvious assumption is that azurr is highly toxic, but the reality was far more frightening: it begins breaking you down until you too become goo.
And it wasn't just you, and that was the secret to its usefulness: it would continue to break things in its vicinity until it was either contained or it ate everything it could.
Consciousness, intellect, does not come naturally to Azurr. It is known to assume motile forms to expand its reach ever outward, but these are always fleeting things." He paused. There was a brief moment where tapping could be heard once more before he resumed. "The beasts below were struggling to hold their shape when they entered the arena, and the repeated wounding and regenerating have driven the Azurr that makes them to the edge of its ability to remember the shape.
Project Talon is quite controversial among our crew. So much in fact that I am surprised to see its name on the screens. Unfortunately for you, details as to why that is or what it entails is still very much highly classified. As with many previous experiments with azurr, we expected as many improvements as we did failures. To see him <Montaak> walking in the arena, having remained stable for such a long time and capable of all the prowess that you've witnessed in the arena is proof of what progress through the careful hand of Science, under the watchful guidance of High Command, can achieve.
As mentioned earlier, Project Talon is a bit controversial even within Science Team, and most of what I know is quite classified. However, with the permission of the members of the Science Team committee and High Command that may be present, I will disclose the information you request: After our previous success with Montaak, naturally our approach was to repeat it. We carefully analyzed his blood samples and concluded that a subject needed specific traits to survive the enhancement. We couldn't just throw people blindly into pools of azurr, hoping for something to happen. So, we sought candidates with favorable characteristics, not only in body but in mental fortitude. However, even that wasn't enough. Obviously, I commented, we really weren't getting appropriate candidates. They were mostly sourced from the bottom and Montaak was. . . exceptional. So, 'why don't we just start from scratch instead of grabbing from the masses?', I proposed.
Those that reside or we met during our time in the Death Pits
Mahara - The Heart of the Arena
The light and hope of the otherwise somber and daunting Death Pits. She seems to have been employed by the Patron for while although how they got to meet or if they have some sort of relationship is still unknown. She'll often call people by endearing names and, if possible, bring delicious snacks to those awaiting their demise at the arena. Rempant seems to enjoy her company, even if he denies it.
Sei'ka - ???
An alien with an insect-like appearance who seems to posses psychic abilities. They currently reside in the infirmary, providing support to Tilenk. Not much is known about them.
*Creaturepedia
INDEX A - Friendlies
Wooly Spiders Known by Spider Connoisseurs as 'Spooders', they are relatively large but inoffensive creatures that are raised for their soft and fluffy hair. According to mom, they are sad and pathetic creatures that often seek either love, cuddles, food or all three combined.
Prowess: Queen Spider: ?? | Spiderlings: ??
INDEX B - Not so friendly creatures
No data currently available
INDEX C - CRABS
Gigani Crabs
One of the largest crabs known to Arboreal kind, growing up to 30 meters in height. These colossal crabs possess front and hind claws that, while not as massive compared to their body when compared to other crabs, they support with long legs which allows them to crawl from tree to tree with ease. But their biggest threat is based on numbers: every 15 to 20 years, massive hordes of Gigani come out of the shores to mate in the forest's lake causing destruction on their paths. Crab hunters are trained not to engage with them directly but to guide them away from arboreal communities. They aren't very smart and are easy to anger which can lead them to damage even themselves.
Prowess:10
INDEX ?? - AZURR BASED CREATURES
Azur Beast Ugly lizard-like looking creatures created by Science Team that appeared from the ground and apparently want to turn us into azurr and eat us.
According to Rigel, they could be puncheable but I think Montaak's the only one who could do that. . .
This story may feature topics which may be sensitive to people. A proper trigger warning will be placed before each segment. Reader discretion advised.
More rules may be added or modified at the discretion of the QM
Game Combat and Challenge Mechanics
Dice Roll System
This system is based on a weird hybrid between the Storyteller system and Crusader Kings. Here are the rules:
Each character rolls a number of d10 equal to their rating in the stat most relevant to the action they are rolling for.
Each die can provide up to two successes. <6 is 1 success. 10 counts as 2 successes.
If a player rolls no successes and one or more dice rolled a 1, it is a botch: doom will come your way.
HP system is based on Prowess (ex. If Prowess is 3 then base HP is 3). HP can be raised via armor, gained traits and/or special equipment. It is worth noticing that should the armor/equipment/trait get disabled/broken, the character will recede back to base HP and that can be really bad.
Damage persists until the end of a mission or until an action is taken to recover. This will usually cost items or time.
If a character's HP reaches 0, they are rendered incapacitated until their HP is raised above 0. Further complications such as botches or repeated failures can render them dead.
Leveling is based on the number of points gathered from successes and failures when performing a task. Upon reaching the needed amount, a characteristic can be raised.
Each success will grant 1 point to the trait used, while failures will provide 2.
The EXP needed to raise a stat is equal to twice the current rating of the trait. Thus, raising a trait from 5 to 6 would require 10 EXP.
Each character has a special 7th stat that cannot be leveled up. Instead, that stat will have its own mechanic to increase it, and will often be connected to Traits.
Botches will summon a 'consequence menu' that the players can choose from. Each choice will have different debuffs or consequences that will affect the game and/or characters in the short run, and which can build into long-term consequences across other failures.
Combat Mechanics
Players will be presented with 3 options for actions each character can take in the combat. There are 3 levels of difficulty for these actions and will be labeled as such.
Base Option- An option that for the most part has a 50:50 chance of success/failure.
The base Challenge Rank (CR) is equal to half of the enemy's prowess rounded up ( i.e If enemy's prowess equals to 6, Challenge rank will be 3 to beat).
Failure will deal 1 HP damage.
Hard option- An option that will be difficult to accomplish but yields high rewards. CR = Base +2.
A success on this challenge will give 2 successes towards ending the fight.
Success will often give a contextual benefit such as extra EXP points, equipment or similar. Failing this option yields double the failure points.
Failure will deal 1 HP damage plus disrupt the next action in the plan causing it to be skipped.
Regardless of success or failure, you will always deal 1 HP damage to the opponent.
Easy option- An option that will usually always succeed. CR = Base - 2.
No EXP points are gained upon succeeding using this option.
Success on this action does not count towards successes needed to end the battle. Instead, it adds +2 dice to the next action.
Failure will not bring damage, however they will be skipped next turn.
Players will make a plan of 5 actions which will be carried out in order that turn. If the fight has not yet ended then the turn will end and a new 5 action plan will have to be made. At this point conditions on the battlefield may or may not change such as reinforcements, terrain changes or the enemy trying to escape.
If multiple characters are involved in the combat, each character rolls using their own stats
Each character must be assigned at least one action before any character may be assigned a second action.
When fighting against a group of foes, the CR is calculated as follows: ((Average Group Prowess)/(# of Foes) ) + (Highest Enemy Prowess number).
Example: Your team encounters a group of 4 with the following CRs : 10, 5, 8, 6. Based on the formula the Average Group Prowess would be 7 which is then split between the group (7 / 4). The result (1.75, rounded to 2) would be added to the highest Prowess in the group, making the Group's CR 12.
When prompted by the QM, players may vote on a song to play in the background. This can provide buffs or debuffs on characters depending on the choice. You may also choose not to select a song and opt instead to, for example, have them hum to themselves or something.
After a song is chosen, a d6 per character will be rolled to reflect each character's reaction to it. This will decide an adjustment to every dice pool the character rolls in that turn:
1 – Absolutely hates it / ruins their mood (-2)
2 – 'Meh' (-1)
3 – Not particularly my favorite but I can endure it (0)
4 – I like the tune but I'm sure it could be better (0)
5 – Pretty good! (+1)
6 – I love this! (+2)
The bonus for a particular song will remain fixed and cannot change unless a specific event allows for a re-roll.
All songs that have been played on this Quest can be found in an accordion listed below.
The Misfits - Flexin' the Arm of Orion Main Playlist
The list of songs featured in the Quest.
For Buffs/Debuffs info, check the 3rd Tab.
Based on this, our Protagonist shall be an Arboreal Cartographer.
"...what."
"You heard me," Rigel said with his signature cocksure grin. "Neither of us want us," he said with a gesture at the unbelievably huge, unnaturally blue terrestrial and the smaller (but still substantially larger than Rigel) and exceptionally scarred terrestrial behind him, "to be dead. I wanna live because I wanna piss off whoever gave the order. You want me to live because you make bank off us being the most unkillable gladiators you've ever had. We both know this is an order from the assholes up above. You just gotta work with me a little and you'll keep on making all those sweet, sweet credits for the rest of your definitely-not-gonna-get-violently-shortened life."
"...are you sure you're not planning to kill me? Because I'm feeling a little threatened." The Patron was a hybrid, though the only evidence that he wasn't just a baseline terrestrial was that he had an extra pair of arms, and was so fat the palm-sized scales on his body had stopped overlapping. Rigel still didn't know kirlean body language that well yet, but he rolled his eyes at the obvious discomfort.
"Of course not. The next boss of the Pits might not be so accommodating. So here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna give me a team, and you're gonna put these two ass–I mean this asshole and my very best friend in the universe," the smaller terrestrial snorted, while the larger gave a long-suffering sigh, "along with a couple others."
The Patron straightened in his seat a little, the claws of one of his primary hands nervously tapping on the stonewood of his absurdly expensive desk. "What else could you possibly need? Rempant is a veteran of more wars than most of us have years, and Montaak is the size of a truck."
"What we need is MASS APPEAL!" Rigel said, pointing at the sky. Behind him, Montaak, the larger terrestrial, sighed again and palmed his face. "We're gonna need a nurd to use words none of the rest of us understand, and the hottest chik you can find. You'll have to find that one, I still don't know what's attractive to you people, but this is important stuff! And there's one more ingredient whose importance cannot be denied."
The smaller terrestrial stiffened in his seat, speaking up for the first time, "Oh no you are NOT–!"
Rigel's grin turned slightly manic as he ignored the interruption. "We're going to need…"
"An idiot."
I really wasn't expecting it when I got arrested and condemned to a short, violent life in the gladiatorial Death Pits, but the guards were surprisingly accommodating.
They didn't shove me so I stumbled and then tased me when I fell down, they weren't punching me for no reason, and they even let me rinse the blood of that Dealer I was friends with off my face.
I mean, it still sucks that he got turned inside out by high velocity plasma weaponry, but at least I wasn't wearing him anymore. And I took his data stick, so it's not like I could say he never gave me anything either.
Huh. I think I might still be in shock.
Further shock came in the form of entering a wing of the prison separate from the rest. It was a hallway with eight cells in it, the standard sort. Dark, dank, thick ker'nag bars spaced just enough to reach through pathetically while being too close to slip between. The weird thing was that all the cells were open. The weird thing was also that there seemed to be an Honest to the Maker couch in the hallway on which sat the single most scarred kirlean I'd ever seen, one hand fiddling with his prosthetic arm while he tapped a rhythm with his prosthetic leg. The weird thing was also that there seemed to be music going, a soft instrumental tune I'd never heard before. The weird thing was also…
Never mind. It was just all weird.
The guards, who probably had a quota and decided to get it all out of their systems at the end, shoved me so I stumbled the last few feet through the door into the prison hallway and shut the gate behind me. I managed to not fall on my face, but I made enough noise that the old veteran on the couch heard me.
"Oh, good. The rookie's here," he said with a voice that sounded like rubbing stones together.
"I uh…guess?" I said, resisting the urge to fidget. "What am I the rookie at, exactly?"
"Not dying, unfortunately. Whatever. Name's Rempant," he said, shoving the prosthetic against his arm-stump and giving a twist to lock it in place. The claw it had in place of a hand rotated and closed a couple of times and he gave a satisfied grunt. "Good talk. RIGEL YOUR IDIOT'S HERE."
"Well that's just uncalled for…" I muttered as the old terrestrial walked heavily into one of the cells.
"Dude, I'm vibing here!" came a voice from one of the other cells, and a creature unlike any I'd seen before stepped into view. It was somewhere between a terrestrial and an arboreal in size, which meant he was about half again as tall as me, and his skin was smooth and unarmored. There was a thick mop of blue on the top of his head. Its texture was much longer and softer than I'd seen on the spiders my family kept so I wasn't sure if it was still hair, but it had that sort of effect to it. He raised a five fingered hand to the side of his head and removed an object from the odd structure that was probably an ear. "Ohh, my idiot's here!"
"Can I maybe convince you people to stop calling me that?" I asked.
"Nah. We'll call ya something different when you give us a good reason to," he said, baring his teeth. A kirlean doing that would be expressing amusement, so I decided to just assume that's what it was until I learned otherwise.
I sighed. "Alright, well…what do you need an idiot for, then? I'm not one, but clearly you wanted one for something?"
The odd creature did something with its fingers that made a 'snap' sound. I wanted to try and replicate it, but was pretty sure I'd just stab myself with my claws and didn't want to come across like the idiot he kept calling me, so I didn't try it myself. "That's the kinda question you should be asking! See, you've got the chance to get in on the ground floor of a new initiative! I'm calling us…" he raised his arms in a grand gesture.
There was a long pause. I glanced around to see if I could figure out what he was waiting on.
"THE MISFITS!"
I could hear the dripping of water somewhere in the halls, and the sound of the music that was still playing. After a long moment, there was the sound of one pair of hands clapping. It sounded sarcastic.
"Alright, fine, no one else is calling us that. But I'll convince them to at some point," the strange creature said. "I'm Rigel, and I'm the leader of this crew because I said so and Rempant can't make me stop."
"I decided to find a different hill to die on," someone rubbed a pair of stones together to say from one of the cells.
"You die on that hill, buddy!" Rigel said. "I believe in you this time! It sure did work the last dozen times you tried to die." He shook his head and looked sadly at me. "Seriously, he is the worst suicidal person I've ever met. Wants to die in battle but is too good to actually die. I've got money on old age getting him, but don't tell him that."
"Can we get back to the part where you tell me why you wanted me here?" I tried again.
"Of course we can! You, my friend, are going to be my rubber duk."
"What's a duk?" I quietly asked.
"It's a flying thing from my home, don't worry about it. The most powerful technique of some of the smartest people I know is to have a rubber one and explain all their plans to it so they can hear themselves talk."
"Ah!" a voice called from one of the other cells. "We call those interns here." From the cell stepped a kirlean that looked slightly younger than Rempant, with immaculate scales, a healthy shell, and four well-proportioned arms. You don't live long as a bartender without recognizing an Elite on sight, and this one was too perfect to be anything but high ranking. What the skyspit was one doing here? "Ah, greetings. I am Tilenk, and I suspect I'll be taking care of most of our equipment. Most particularly our recording equipment, given the agreements that we're operating under."
"Which I will tell him about if anyone will actually let me get to it!" Rigel said, oddly expressive face coming across as slightly pouty. "Look, we're getting sent on a bunch'a missions that High Command thinks will get us killed. I made a deal where we get the freedom and gear we need to not die anyway, but we gotta keep makin' money for the Pit boss even though we're not actually in the Pit."
"And how, exactly, are we gonna do that?" He seemed to want me engaged in the conversation, if the pauses he kept leaving meant anything, and if he was going to be my boss I figured I should probably keep him happy. It was easy enough to just ask the obvious questions, really.
"Well, we're gonna do all of our jobs on camera, of course. Cameras on all of us, a few more following us making things harder, and the Pit boss'll put it all up on screen for everybody to enjoy between bloody deathmatches."
Ah, of course. I was going to be a holo-star. Yeah, that was about par for the course for my time in the Pits so far.
"And my job is to…not know what's going on?"
"EXACTLY!" Rigel yelled, pointing his weird, blunt fingers at me. "Everybody else on the team knows what they're doing. Tilenk is great at science and hacking and whatever. Rempant and Montaak, he's huge and you haven't met him yet, are good at fighting. Zagusha's our sex appeal, and also apparently she's a smuggler or something, and I am of course our glorious leader! You, on the other hand, are our plucky little rookie who barely knows what's going on, so we have to explain what we're doing and why to you and also the audience. You're like narrative plausible deniability on two legs."
"Aww, I don't wanna be a plot device!" I said, unable to keep the whine out of my voice. "Can't I be, like, the trainee who has an arc about getting better and finding my place on the team?"
Rigel's face scrunched up in an expression I wasn't sure was actually possible with a snout like both strains of kirlean had. "...I like the attitude, but to do that you're gonna actually have to have an arc about getting better and finding a place on the team. Which means you gotta, you know, actually do something. I'm not convinced you have it in you."
Well, it's wasn't even unusual that he didn't believe I could contribute. But I could contribute! I learned which end of a plasma caster goes forward, and I knew pathfinding in trackless forests and caves, and I had a data stick that totally contained either the location of something crazy valuable or something totally worthless!
I probably ought to find a computer to actually figure out where the coordinates point to at some point. Honestly, though, this team might actually be my best chance to investigate those coordinates I could've gotten. Assuming we ended up going off-world for some of these missions, which given the state of kirlean foreign relations right now seemed pretty likely, they'd likely have better access to transport than I could've gotten on my own.
So…I just had to prove I could be something other than a plot device. I just needed to figure out how.
"First though," Rigel said, breaking me out of my thoughts, "I think we're gonna have one last goodbye match in the Pit. It'll be first thing tomorrow morning, let us get used to how we all move and what we do in the field. It'll be great! So I guess that kinda means you're our probationary plot device. You get to be our actual plot device if you don't die. Good luck!"
And with that he wandered back into the cell he came out of. Tilenk stepped back into his own cell as well. Counting the one I saw Rempant walk into and the two empty ones on either side of me, that left two occupied cells and one more empty one in the block. One of those would have Zagusha, and the other would have Montaak. Introducing myself might be a good idea. Talking to Tilenk about possible gear might be an even better one. I didn't actually have any weapons or armor on me, given that I got sent here straight from the bar.
Honestly, talking to any member of the team might be a good idea. Rempant might be able to give me some advice on the fight tomorrow, and this Rigel guy…he was clearly crazy, but if I was ever going to learn what his species was I'd probably need to ask.
Tomorrow morning is my very first fight. I think I can probably fit in doing two things tonight before I need to get some sleep.
[ ] Try to have a conversation with the members of the team.
-[ ] Rigel: learning more about our leader personally might be important for staying alive. I mean, how can I be a good rubber duk without talking to him?
-[ ] Rempant: An old soldier must know a thing or two about fighting. Getting his advice would help me stay alive.
-[ ] Montaak: He's supposedly good at fighting. Maybe I can convince him to protect me in the fight?
-[ ] Tilenk: Getting some gear is probably a good idea. Can't fight if I don't have a weapon, right? He might also be able to get me a terminal so I can do something with the data stick.
-[ ] Zagusha: Supposedly she's a smuggler. Maybe she's got something good?
[ ] I should just settle into my room, maybe see if I can use my personal comlink to find anything at those coordinates on the maps I've got. Wait, will they let me send a message to mom?
Tomorrow morning is my very first fight. I think I can probably fit in doing two things tonight before I need to get some sleep.
[ ] Try to have a conversation with the members of the team. -3 Votes
[ ] I should just settle into my room, maybe see if I can use my personal comlink to find anything at those coordinates on the maps I've got. Wait, will they let me send a message to mom? - 0 votes
Everyone chose to have a conversation with the members of the team. As for who to talk with, here are the results:
-[ ] Rigel: learning more about our leader personally might be important for staying alive. I mean, how can I be a good rubber duk without talking to him? - 0 Votes
-[ ] Rempant: An old soldier must know a thing or two about fighting. Getting his advice would help me stay alive. -2 votes
-[ ] Montaak: He's supposedly good at fighting. Maybe I can convince him to protect me in the fight? - 2 votes
-[ ] Tilenk: Getting some gear is probably a good idea. Can't fight if I don't have a weapon, right? He might also be able to get me a terminal so I can do something with the data stick. - 1 vote
-[ ] Zagusha: Supposedly she's a smuggler. Maybe she's got something good? - 1 vote
Based on this, the following two actions will be reserved to talking to Rempant and Montaak.
The ambient music swirled around me like a redworm in a Shine mix. Blended into the drink it would add a hint of sweetness. A whole worm would just sit there in the liquid, useless but pretty.
That metaphor got away from me a little bit. I needed to focus.
I had options, sitting on the sofa Rempant was on before. The cushions made out of memory aerogel were, for better or worse, functional. The frame they were sitting in, on the other hand, was just hollow plastic, and shaped wrong. It took serviceable cushions and made them uncomfortable. Might be the reason why Rempant went back to his cell.
Focus!
I leaned forward to look into Rempant's room, and also find a better position. The front of the cell had a pile of mechanical bits and pieces heaping up in the far corner. First impression? More like a workshop than a place someone would sleep.
The wall, aside from the pile of parts for his prosthetics (?) had a metallic panel that had various tools magnetically attached - some were proper tools that were just a generation or two older than what was currently on the market. Some, though, looked like a bizarre fusion of bits from two or three other tools to make something that had to be less than the sum of its parts. Surely. Under the panel there was a slightly rusted tool drawer with three compartments. He had opened the middle drawer and was looking for something.
Ah, a blowtorch. Perfectly normal equipment for prisoners in a real, actual prison. He lifted it up to his ear and shook it. A grumble followed as he stashed it back in the drawer.
The only other notable features of the room were the soft amber lights coming from light cylinders attached to other magnetic fixtures on the walls.
I paused. I was almost sure I had seen everything about his cell from my position but, I don't think I saw a bed. Surely it wasn't actually a workshop and he had somewhere to sleep, right?
Confused, I stood from the couch. I needed some kind of reason to bother him, and something mundane might just do the job.
After all, I hadn't really thought about how to approach him, let alone what to say regarding my…precarious situation. Could he give me tips on how to survive? Would he? He was busy doing things with the arm and didn't seem the kind that liked to be interrupted.
This was dumb. I shouldn't even bother asking about the-
"So, where do you sleep exactly?" I heard myself say, and immediately wished I could just turn around and crawl under the couch.
Rempant continued working on his arm, ignoring me. Part of me was glad that he either didn't hear me or had chosen to ignore me.
I took a better glance at his cell and, just as I had noted, he had no place to lay on. Maybe he actually did sleep on the floor? That's pretty rough!
Maybe they didn't get as many comforts as I had initially thought. Maybe he traded his bed to Tilenk for a blowtorch?
"Are you looking for something?" I heard his grinding voice. He finally turned just enough to give me a big ol' side-eye. He didn't seem angry but neither did he seem to appreciate my interruption.
"Not really. No." I answered with honesty. "Well, there was something I had in mind to ask but I was just looking around your quarters." I paused, unable to resist another glance around the room. Looks like that pile of scraps was broken prosthetics. How fast did he go through those things? "But while we're on the subject, I was uh…wondering if you could give me some sort of heads up on what I might have to face in tomorrow's match? Maybe some advice on what to do? Weapons? Do you have weapons?" Do you have a bed? I almost asked again, but managed to hold that last one back.
Rempant detached his arm and casually left it on top of the tool bench before turning to face me fully. He gave me a long, assessing look and I got the feeling that he just learned more about me than I'd picked up about his room so far.
"You haven't been at any sort of combat before, have you?"
"Well," I couldn't help feeling defensive, straightening up and trying to make myself taller. "If it helps, I've split up a couple of fights at the bar I used to work with. If things got too crazy, they may end up breaking a couple of tables or two and that would come out of my pockets."
What followed was a painful silence that told me enough about what he thought about me: useless.
He wasn't entirely wrong, though. Getting two drunks off each other wasn't too hard when you knew a little strategy. Were they a pain to deal with? Yeah. But when you're the only one involved who can stand up straight, it's not that hard to get them to lay down for a bit.
Other than that, I wasn't much of a fighter. Even back when I used to have those adventures with my siblings, I was always the one who had to stay on the back while they slew the monsters we concocted in our minds.
I always played roles as navigator, lorekeeper, data tracker, the sort that keeps you away from the gritty action.
It made me proud to be considered the smartest but when it came down to it, would any of that actually help me out tomorrow?
Rempant sighed. It didn't sound annoyed, more like disappointed.
"You want to survive out there? Stay out of the heat. I'll be honest, kid, there isn't much I can recommend to somebody of your kind. You'll be meat put through a grinder. You're not the sort I would wish a death of this sort."
Well, that wasn't reassuring.
"Do I get at least something to protect myself?"
"No." He replied dryly. "No weapons, no shielding, no munitions. Just your wits and skill. If you want something of the sort, you'll have to take it from your enemies."
I looked down at the floor. I had seen some of the broadcasts of the fighting in the Pits when I first arrived at the Capital. They were gruesome terrible exploits where both sides shredded each other. And when they didn't, it was usually because they were fighting inexperienced prisoners - usually traitors, deserters, and the like - the ones who were just there to be test dummies for High Command's new weapon systems. Prisoners like me.
Part of me had hoped that being dragged to this group as their local idiot could protect me somehow but, in all honesty, why bother?
"Look," Rempant's voice broke me from my spiraling thoughts, and his tone was surprisingly soft. It still sounded like rubbing stones together, but I thought maybe I could hear a little sympathy in it. Kind of like when talking to some moribund rol-pol you rescued from the streets somewhere. "I can't promise you much but I might fetch you one of their blasters. If you're going to die, might as well be while fighting for something. You know which end goes toward the enemy, right? Safety's the purple rail on the top. Push it forward to unlock and just pull the trigger when you see something ugly."
He paused, staring at the front as if remembering something. He exhaled afterwards, with a bit of annoyance in his gaze. "And follow the cues," he added finally. "That always helps."
"Cues?" I tilted my head.
"It's some stupid thing that Rigel cooked up to keep us synced." Rempant shrugged. "I'm not good at explaining it. Ask Montaak 'bout that."
"...ah. Montaak?"
"Big blue guy." Rempant prompted. "His cell is to the left by the wall. Can't miss it."
Well, I HAD considered talking to him. It just so happened that Rempant's room was right next to me and I needed to figure out if he actually had a bed in here. And if he could help me not die, that was also important.
Might as well go try my luck with the other guy.
"Right." I nodded. "Thank you, by the way."
He wasn't kidding when he said Montaak wasn't easy to miss.
He was an absolute behemoth, easily three times my size and with the build of a terran. Not just a terran, he had the build of two terrans stacked on top of each other. He looked like he'd changed size rapidly and recently though, because there was some scarring where the skin split between the scales in a few places. It would disappear as new scales grew in, but for now he'd have to be really careful about the rain. Even so, what caught my attention the most was that eerie blue hue his skin was. His entire body had a sort of matte blue look to it, with some lighter tones on the scales around his head and the end of his limbs
I must have been too distracted by the music, the sofa and my whirling thoughts to not realize that his cell was right next to me and that he barely fit in it.
He was currently sitting in the furthest corner of the cell in a slightly crouched position - possibly due to the fact that his head could reach the roof easily - hands in his lap and legs crossed. It kinda looked like he was meditating.
I took a quick glance around his cell as I entered it cautiously, noting how it was totally bare compared to Rempant's. There were a couple of pots on the back of the cell, close to the wall, which acted like a lichen starter. It had already spread through most of the central area, glowing in a mesmerizing soft blue hue.
On the wall just across from where he was, there was a hollow cabinet full of. . .scrolls? There were a bunch of them stuffed in the furniture. One of them was unrolled on the floor. I wanted to lean down to read what it was about but I didn't want to push my luck.
"Excuse me," I began as I approached him. Despite his size and rippling muscles he didn't seem like he would do anything to me. Which was notable because seriously this guy looked like he could break my spine one-handed. "Montaak? Can I talk to you for a bit?"
Montaak didn't respond, but his breathing did seem to slow and deepen.
Before I could call him out again, his eyes began to open. There was a quick glimmer of purple in his left eye, one I'd likely have missed if I hadn't been watching.
I took a step back as if an extra couple of inches might actually make a difference in how much space he had to move.
Electric blue eyes settled on me.
Initially it was emotionless, basically blank. But then, just as he took one last deep breath, his expression turned... interested?
He certainly didn't seem annoyed at my presence, but I was starting to get a little uncomfortable at how intent he was. His shoulders pulled in towards his chest, something I'd seen my siblings do when they were trying to play it cool, and then suddenly he was leaning towards me. How can he possibly be this huge?!
"A-Ah..." I said, stumbling over both words and feet until I could comfortably look up at him again. "I-I'm sorry, I...I was just wanting to ask you some things. I'm sorry if I interrupted your...session or something?"
"It was a more pleasant interruption than Rigel typically affords me," the giant said softly, his voice somehow both deeper and more smooth than Rempant's. "What can I do for you, little tree-walker?"
"Uh...Rempant sent me? Said you'd be able to explain something about cues?"
A long, gusty sigh blew almost hard enough to make me stumble. "Of course. Rigel's cues. Rempant wasn't wrong, either that understanding would help keep you alive or that I would explain better than either of the others would. I've gotten used to putting the rambling explanations Rigel gives into words that make sense outside his own head."
I was getting the feeling that this was just the latest in a long line of conversations just like this. I wonder if Tilenk or that Zagusha lady had gotten this talk yet?
"You'll find that Rigel has a rather peculiar relationship with music," the giant in front of me said. "He uses it for everything. Relaxing, emphasizing a point, background noise... sleeping. The most relevant of these is what he does in the arena. He has an arrangement with the Patron that, as long as he is in the Pit, he is allowed full access to the sound system. The device he carries contains music of his home, and uses a bizarrely simple wireless communication protocol to swap songs during a match."
"W-wait...he can-, what?" I said shocked, flinching. "Why would they let him do that? Couldn't he like... use it to escape?"
"It is, as I said, simple. He can't use it for anything more than swapping what music is playing. He has instead taken to using it as a method of coordinating us."
"So the cues are... musical cues?"
"They are," He nodded. "and you would do well to make use of them. At the start of a match, Rigel typically begins with silent gestures to indicate where he thinks we will be best positioned in the formation we are using. The way he organizes this seems to be influenced by the tempo, so that is also important to keep in mind. I suspect that the lyrics of the song play a role as well, but he seems to have forgotten I can't understand the language."
Huh, I hadn't even considered the language barrier. "He's pretty good at our language. I had no idea he had learned it recently. Do you happen to know what language he speaks originally?"
"He calls it Basic," Montaak replied with a shrug. "In my opinion, it doesn't seem particularly basic, with many silent letters and inconsistent pronunciation, but perhaps the other languages of his species are even worse?"
"They have more than one?"
"Apparently."
The conversation stalled at that point. Montaak seemed content to leave his explanation at that, and I had so many questions I wasn't even sure where to start.
It all centered around Rigel, really.
I glanced over my shoulder at his cell across the hall. Of the cells I'd seen so far, his was by far the most cluttered–no question on this one, he had an actual bed! I could likely learn a lot about him by looking over it all, but it was so densely packed that I likely wouldn't learn anything without going over there. I probably didn't have time for that tonight. I was too busy talking with-
I turned back to face the giant and there he was, watching me intently. It was like he hadn't seen something like ... wait, had he really never seen one of my kind? What had happened to him that had him so sheltered? To my best of knowledge, only Elites didn't deal directly with. . .
Are you telling me this is an Elite?What?!
He's also acting a bit like a nymph, curious about the world around him. Would you please focus!
"So," I said a little too harshly, annoyed at myself. I guess he took it personally because he pulled back to his corner. His gaze remained fixed on me but had lost some of that intensity. "Could you teach me about the cues? How can I use them to my benefit?"
It turned out that Montaak ending up in the Pit kept him from his true calling of teaching, because he did in fact have an entire explanation ready to go. He told me about the custom hand signs Rigel used with his weird five fingered hands, what actual dozens of songs meant in the course of a fight, and a bizarrely specific set of things I was definitely not to do which included delightful entries such as "if Rigel instructs you to let one of us throw you, you're allowed to ignore him."
I was never going to remember all of this.
"I understand this is overwhelming. Believe me, keeping track of all of his signals continues to be a challenge to me as well, so I don't blame you. May I offer you an alternative?"
"Please, if you don't mind." I replied. I was holding my head at this point, trying to keep myself steady.
"I would like to provide you with protection. I cannot guarantee your safety but I can promise your survival." Oh. Oh!! That was... that was actually very easy. "In return, I would like to ask you a favor."
"Uh, sure. I mean, you're keeping me alive already. How could I refuse?"
He nodded. A small smile formed.
"Could you ... could you describe to me your day to day life outside of the city? How your people live, what they eat, oral traditions and celebrations. I would like to know more."
That's...actually kind of ...
I can see now why he was so interested in me. I guess he saw the opportunity and ran with it.
I never considered my life or the one of my peers as something to be proud of. It was just how things were. Mundane, but satisfying.
But his quiet enthusiasm, that focused glint in his blue eyes, made me feel special.
"I think I can do that." I replied, reciprocating the enthusiasm. Or maybe just getting enthusiastic by myself. He was a bit hard to read. "I have a bunch of stories that I can tell you about my cluster. That should cover a whole week."
Montaak's smile grew.
"You will have to stay close to me unless I indicate otherwise." He shifted his eyes to the side, though the smile remained. "And unlike Rigel I will use words for that. Rempant will probably prioritize…acquiring a weapon for you, and depending on the opposition I may be needed to crush a defensive position in the early stages of the fight. You may be on your own for the first few seconds of the match. I will, however, move to aid you as soon as I can."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Do keep an eye on Rigel's directions though. You might get a better feel of what I meant by watching him and then what we do in response. Once the battle is over, I'll try to answer your questions."
"Alright." I nodded. "Though I think I already have questions without watching. Thanks, though."
Today was a strange day full of strange events and strange people.
Being dragged to the Death Pits, having some strange alien creature recruit me for his nefarious(?) plans. A kirlean who has replaced part of himself with home-made trash prosthetics. Another one who is larger than most hover transports I'd seen in the city.
Jail cells that are more comfortable than the room I had rented, even without the bed.
Life is stranger than fiction, I heard somebody say a long time ago.
I thought about contacting my family via comlink but was met with the unsurprising fact that I wasn't getting any signal in an actual dungeon. Go figure.
Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I have a fight. I may get a weapon and somebody to shield me but... what else can I expect to happen?
Greetings Questers! I am back after a long week out.
For this week's poll I have an interesting task for you all: choose a battle song.
You know? The kind of song you can pair up with your favorite fight scene on an AMV? Or when playing a boss fight in a videogame? Yeah, that kind of song.
It can be of any band, language or source.
Here are some examples that I have in mind:
[ ] Don't Stop me now - Queen
[ ] Knights of Cydonia - Muse
[ ] Mass Destruction - from Persona 3
[ ] Write in
Poll will run until (07/14). Really curious on what the end result will be from this.
The songs received for this tally were thrown into a randomizer which drew the following result:
Based on this, the song that will be playing in the background of our battle will be 'Don't Stop me Now' by Queen. This will be added to the playlist.
"Oi, boy! Yer listenin'?"
I snapped from my stupor and immediately shuddered.
The lights in the bar seemed brighter than I remembered, and I felt disoriented. It was like I'd had some of the drink myself, except it made everything clearer instead of blurry.
"I..." I heard myself say, clenching my hands. I realized that my main right held the body of a bottle. Where was I?
Right, obviously serving. I poured a brightly glowing white substance from the dark tinted container that kept it from spoiling and dimming on the shelf, and instinctively my wrist twisted to serve it properly. I didn't spill a drop, and shimmering bands swirled through the liquid pleasingly. We had more expensive drinks, but this is the one that showed off to the rest of the bar the best.
"I apologize, sir. It wasn't my intention to let my mind wander off."
My customer was a Dealer, a caste within the Elite hierarchy whose main purpose was to establish trade agreements of all kinds. One could describe them as merchants, but the things they traded were not always strictly commercial. Some dealers specialized in information or experiences rather than material goods.
That didn't explain why this Dealer had decided to pick our shady bar rather than one of the fancier options in the Capital, but he had established a weekly routine by now: he'd sit down in the same place by the back wall and I would bring him a bottle of the liquid he was currently rocking slowly with his ornamented hand.
"I am not surprised; your caste tends not to think too deeply. That's why they remain behind the rest of society." He paused, taking a sip. "Tell me, what would you consider to be the most valuable asset to trade with?"
"Uh…" I blinked, looking down at the table, and my secondary hands clasped in my nervousness. "I guess…" I squinted my eyes, trying to think of something that sounded convincing. "Credits. You can't have a lot of things without credits."
The Dealer's face went flat, eyes narrowing in annoyance. How was I supposed to know?! I barely make enough to pay my rent!
He took a sip of his drink, taking a moment to enjoy its consistency before gulping it down.
"You think with your stomach, boy." The Dealer said, placing the glass down. "Credits are useful but not in the long run. Not with that mindset." A grin formed. "Would you like to know?"
Without waiting for my answer, he pulled a small object from under his thick hydrophobic cloak and placed it on the table. He nodded once at me, no doubt a sign for me to take a closer look. The object turned out to be a metal data stick, its case corroded and dented from use but the contacts still clean and straight. I frowned.
"Information," He spoke again. His voice was quiet like a murmur, but I heard it clear as rainfall. A quick glance and I realized he had moved just beside me. His grin had grown wider, fangs protruding. "With the right information, you can obtain anything you desire. Change the course of your life, how the world works. A treasure trove of opportunities and untapped possibilities."
I was about to ask what he meant by that but the sound of screaming and crunch of metal stopped me.
The front of the bar was in chaos as patrons were trying to escape what I finally understood to be a raid led by a pair of fully armored Commandos.
Time dilated as I looked back at the Dealer just in time to watch a bolt of plasma strike his head with an explosion of steam. Adrenaline flooded my body, and without thinking I grabbed the data stick and ran for the back. There wasn't a path out back there. I just shoved the data stick in my clothes and found a corner to curl up in.
By the time a group of troopers arrived to clean up and take prisoners, I was completely absent. One of them tried to talk to me, but when I didn't answer (or understand him) he grabbed my shoulder and dragged me to my feet.
His mouth opened again, and this time I heard the sound of grinding stone.
"Hey! Wake up!"
Suddenly free of the dream, I was on my feet before I even knew what was going on. I looked around, trying to remember where I was, and sagged against the wall when I realized I was still in prison. Still under the Pits. Still talking to a surly, crippled soldier who had probably fought more people than I'd ever met.
Right. Talking to Rempant. My ragged breathing calmed. One person, at least, cared enough to come wake me up.
That was. . .something.
I suppose I hadn't finished processing that night yet.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but words failed. Rampant probably understood, though. He raised his good hand and swayed it dismissively.
"Here; I had some time and parts to spare and built you something." He said, holding something up. It looked like some sort of metallic glove, if instead of actually being a glove it had a pincer for a hand. Before I could ask, Rempant continued. "It's meant to go on one of…the little hands. Auxiliary. Secondary. Whatever you tree humpers call them." He unscrewed his hand and replaced it with the contraption. The pincer shot forward almost half a meter and slammed shut with audible force, reminding me once again how weird this place was: this was definitely a tool that could cut through the bars of our cages, and they just gave him the parts to make it. And he didn't even consider escaping with it... "Unlock it carefully and pull the inner trigger to retract it. It should give you a little extra range to either attack or grab objects around you." He said, wiggling his prosthetic arm, making the extension slide smoothly back. I stared at him aghast as he locked the contraption, unscrewed it and casually tossed it to me. I caught it out of the air easily enough and found it wasn't very heavy. Even so, the weight was a welcome anchor for me to focus on.. "Treat this as a weapon, not a toy."
And with that, he left.
After a moment to gather myself, I stepped out of my cell into the hallway and found the rest of the group had already gathered there. They'd moved the sofa into the middle of the hall and flipped it over, with a couple pieces of scrap to hold it level. They were using the bottom as a table, with most of the group sitting around it.
There was Rempant who was eating using his good arm. His prosthetic was still attached, but Tilenk was holding it and seemed to be giving it an inspection and eating at the same time. As I walked toward them I could hear him saying something about either the quality of the food or the workmanship of the fake arm. Whichever it was, Rempant gave a noncommittal grunt in response.
Montaak was leaning against the wall where the sofa used to be, but had no plate in front of him. Instead, he was hunched into the meditative state I had seen him in when I first met him. Was he not hungry or had he already eaten? With the size he was and the servings we had I suppose it wouldn't be surprising he ate the whole thing in one bite, tray included.
Sitting in front of Tilenk was Rigel, who was currently busy fidgeting with a plastic object with a screen at the front. A cable protruded from the top and was plugged directly into the side of his head.
He mumbled something in his language. I didn't get what it was, and was interrupted before I could try to find out.
"So, you must be the Rookie he was looking for." Said the fourth and final kirlean sat by the makeshift table. I'd been told she was here, but I hadn't had a chance to meet her yet. The hybrid's physique was largely arboreal like me, but she lacked the auxiliary arms. She was also, I noted as she stood up and walked around the table toward me, taller than most of my kind.
I fidgeted, suddenly nervous, as she got closer. I'd always been told I looked too flighty when I wrung my auxiliary hands like that, but I couldn't help it!. The way she swayed her hips, and the complementary casual swish of her tail? She was the most attractive female I'd ever actually met and from her smile she was aware of the fact.
"You're younger than I expected." She said, poking my cheek. "Is that eggshell you have there?"
"Come on, Zagusha. No need to make fun of the newbie." Rigel commented, looking up from his device with an amused grin. "Let him at least eat his breakfast."
"You certainly were having a blast mocking your crew last night." Zagusha objected, crossing her arms and glancing back at him. I used this moment of distraction to slip away towards the table. "On top of calling him an idiot."
"I mean, he kind of is. It's in his job description."
"Remind me, again, who picked you to lead this?"
"Not me…" Rempant muttered.
"You say that, and you also say that you 'don't like being in the spotlight'." Rigel nagged. "Then I asked Montaak about it and he just gave me the side eye. I had no choice!"
"Clearly, a burden you've taken on as a favor to the rest of us." Zagusha rolled her eyes.
"Truly," Tilenk began, pausing in his inspection of the arm just long enough for Rempant to pull it away from his grasp. The scientist looked slightly indignant, but it was met with a grunt. Finally, he adjusted his lab coat with a huff and continued. "The dynamic of this group has proven quite fascinating. That this one," Tilenk gestured at Rempant with a scowl. "Or Montaak would have taken the role is indeed obvious. Instead, we have Rigel, a member of an unknown exo-species with little understanding of our science or technology taking the role as leader. The expected dynamic, based on Science Team's models, would have one of these two challenging such a weak leader for his position immediately, and yet both seem thoroughly content to follow his direction."
The room fell silent. I had heard every single word he had said and yet somehow it just sounded like a bunch of nothing.
"Furthermore, his time in the Pit has proven this choice to be correct! The unknown has proven adaptable and effective! I dare say he demonstrates attributes which would make him attractive as a leader to both unmodified castes. Further study is not merely indicated, it is positively necessary." Tilenk concluded, nodding to himself.
"Long-chat-short, science backs my position and I'm awesome." Rigel concluded, nodding to himself in a similar fashion. I thought I heard Montaak quietly muttering 'that wasn't what he said' or something similar. "Now, speaking of the pits:" Our self-proclaimed leader announced, standing up and placing a foot on top of the table with enough force to make a portion of the food I had picked jump off the plate. "We have a big match tonight. Our final one before they decide to yeet us into the vast depths of space. Whatever we do, we gotta go out with a bang."
"What do you have in mind this time?" Asked Rempant. I might have asked too, but I was still trying to figure out what yeet was. Rempant leaned forward to put food back into my plate, his eyes fixed on Rigel as he did so.
"Well…"
And so began today's(? What time even is it?) enthusiastic ramblings from a being that uses words in combinations that do not belong.
His gestures shifted rapidly, and his limbs waved and swayed along with the tune of his own voice and energy. It was almost impossible not to be swept into his pace.
Each member of the "crew" reacted differently: from Zagusha's incredulous but amused expression, Rempant's tired but surprisingly focused eyes which indicated he was in fact following along, Tilenk's similarly focused but fascinated glance that would go back and forth between the man and the holopad he was using to take notes. Montaak was hard to read, as usual, watching impassively.
Topics included expected crowd attendance, the order we would enter the arena, the choice of background music, and something about 'real ring matches'. Rempant interjected to ask about what we'd be fighting, but the only answer Rigel had was 'dangerous and with a high chance of actually killing us.' He said it while wiggling two fingers on each hand with an expression that made me think he wasn't taking the threat too seriously.
"Sounds like a big weapon system." Zagusha said, approaching the table and standing just behind me. Her tail brushed mine in a gesture of solidarity, but I couldn't help a shiver. What should have been comforting was a reminder of why it was needed.
"For something as a 'final match', I doubt it." Rempant commented. "Most of our weapon systems are plasma powered and Montaak has proven how useless they are against him."
"I still feel the impact. Enough power would bruise." Montaak replied.
"Fucking turrets. If I see another Revenant-class turret, I swear to whatever god you pray to that I'm going to climb up that barrier and kill the organizers." Rigel said. He slammed his foot on the table again, this time harsher. Fortunately, by this point I had finished my meal.
"You pray to a deity?" Tilenk asked, tilting his head curiously.
"No, but I bet your ass I'm going to make those assholes pray if I see another fucking turret."
The discussion returned to planning for the event, though without Tilenk this time. We'd lost him to his notes.
Suggested possible foes included bioweapons, giant crabs with cannons attached, shadow commanders. At one point the conversation started to shift to a more casual talk about each of the members and how to introduce each other to the crowd. Rigel's attitude became even more frantic than before, waving his arms up in the air as he imitated the sound of a crowd until Tilenk interrupted him.
"About that," this scientist began as he adjusted his AR display so we could see his screen and not just the keypad. "I have created a concise profile on each one of you that would be quite useful for this scenario. It includes basic data such as name, class, genome line – for those that are applicable – and an abridged background that should be easy to digest for the masses. It has been peer reviewed and given a clear so we shouldn't have a problem when presenting." Carefully, he placed the holopad in the middle of the table and with a touch gesture 5 holoscreens slid in front of us. It was just as he had said, photographs included. I approached my finger to scroll down looking for my data.
"This is…" Rigel said, pausing as he too was surely scrolling to find his file. His was above mine. "…quite handy, actually. Incomplete, but handy."
"Like I mentioned, there is some data that applies to some that does not to you. We did extract your genetic data but last I was informed they were still decoding the whole extent of it. There is little to no data of your species, let alone where you came from."
There was something Rigel said in response to the scientist, but it was in his language. It sounded defiant. Afterwards he glanced back down at the screen and tilted his head.
"What about him?" He asked, pointing at me. "He's from here and I don't see much info about him."
"You did just bring him in." Zagusha said.
"Same as you, maybe a single day apart. I see more about you than him in this. Heck, I don't even see a name in here."
Now that I think about it: I've never really given my name to anybody here. Or rather, nobody has asked for it. Has 'idiot' really been my only identifier so far?
"Wait, I got an idea!" Our self-made leader exclaimed, slamming one of his fists onto the other palm. Abruptly he grabbed me by my shoulders. "Listen to me, this is an opportunity one in a million. You're going to go out there in front of a crowd of thousands who have little to no idea who or what you are. All they know is that you are part of the greatest team your planet has ever seen." I suppose I could credit him and his crew as 'the greatest team' if they have survived this long battling in the pits. It made me feel self-conscious. Still, his enthusiasm was contagious and it almost made the prospect exciting. "Give me something to work with. What are you good at? Any odd jobs you've done?" He leaned closer. "Maybe, a special trait no one knows yet?"
"I used to work at a bar." I replied. His expression hinted at interest but it didn't seem quite what he was looking for. "Pretty good at hue mixing." I paused. For a fraction of a second, Rigel was replaced with the same Dealer from that night before. Between his eyes, a large black spot. His expression was manic. My main left arm rubbed over the area near my navel. There was a secret pocket on the inside of my pants where I had hidden the stick, his memento. I blinked. "I'm also a navigator." I replied, unsure. "Trained myself as one. I just never got to work as one."
"Navigator?" Rigel pulled back, crossing his arms. He gave me a confused look tilting his head. "You guys don't draw routes with AI?"
"That's the thing though," I hunched my shoulders, a feeling of disappointment washing over me. "What I wanted to do was to chart new paths. Go to places my people haven't gone to. But that seems to be irrelevant nowadays thanks to explorer sentries and advanced AI."
"What made you go for it then? Looking for treasure, Hawk?"
That last bit caught me off guard. Hawk? Was that a word in his language?
"What did you just call me?"
"Hm, Hawk." Rigel nodded. "I like it. For a very old reference, I think it fits your situation perfectly."
Hawk? What kind of name is that? Reference to what? What does it even mean?
"Information," the words from the Dealer echoed in my head again. They knew so little about me that I could just get away with whatever I wanted them to know about. I began to understand my former client's words as I pondered on what choices I had. Should I use my name or should I start anew?
Rigel has given you a name. You have two options on this.
[ ] Keep the name. Hawk sounds cool.
[ ] No, that's dumb. I have a name anyways and it's (Write).
[ ] No, that's dumb. I have a name anyways and it's (Write). - 0
Based on the vote selection, our protagonist's name will be Hawk.
Rigel stared at me. I stared back, unflinching.
My neck felt tense.
"Alright, I'll bite: I do like the name. It sounds interesting" I leaned forward. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, I felt like I had gathered enough courage to stand my ground (and felt taller while doing so). I looked down at him, with curiosity and what felt like it might be imperiousness. "But before I decide to adopt it, tell me: what exactly are you referencing?"
Rigel closed his eyes, chuckling to himself.
"There's an old story back where I come from about a young but daring adventurer that sailed into the great unknown." He looked pensively at the ground, and his tone was much softer than I'd heard from him before. "He had to fight foes that were both cunning and stronger than he was but, in the end, his wit and heart helped achieve his goals and discover unimaginable treasure." Suddenly he was looking me in the eye again, characteristic bombastic grin again on his face. "That, my friend, is what I'm referencing."
I looked at him incredulously. Did he really think of me so highly? The whole time I had been here, I thought he saw me just as the idiot. He had said so at least twice!
Though the realization had brought feelings of embarrassment, it also brought memories of going out with brothers, seeking our next thrilling adventure.
"Yeah." I replied, fidgeting my lower arms but with a smile on my face. "I think I wouldn't mind being called like that."
"Aye, then." Rigel said, placing his hand over my shoulder and giving me a nod. "Hawk 'tis"
"Haunk…" I heard Tilenk mumble. He was tapping at the pad, typing the name I had chosen. "How do you spell that?"
Montaak's imposing figure rose for the first time that day, approaching the scientist and looking from behind.
"Hæka, Ar'un …" He began dictating, pausing to look at Rigel. "Worz?"
"Keit." Our leader nodded.
"And you pronounce it Hau'k?" Tilenk shook his head while typing. "Your pronunciation is nonsense. Anyways…"
The scientist pushed the holoscreen down onto the receiver which was on top of the table just in front of him. Taking the thin metal bar with both hands, he pushed both ends until it became more of a square which he slid into a pocket inside his coat.
"As interesting as it is to watch this 'behind the scenes,' I need to prepare for my own role in this event. Usually I like to have a full analysis behind any procedure that has been presented to me before looking at the results but, in this case, I think I will simply see what you present when it is presented."
"I wouldn't have thought of you as somebody that likes surprises." Zagusha teased.
"Usually I don't." The scientist said, adjusting his coat. I detected some tension in his expression but it softened. "But this is one I am looking forward to."
Giving us a sincere smile, he turned his head towards Montaak and gave him a single approving nod, one that was returned by the giant, and left the room.
Not too long after Tilenk left, we were interrupted by the arrival of the Patron who announced that our time to 'have the biggest fight in our life so far' - and he emphasized this last part - was close and we should head out to the lockers.
It wasn't an invitation, it was a polite command that was enforced by the arrival of his entourage made out of the Pit's guards. Four pairs of them that I could see.
Rigel approached the Patron and pulled him to a side of the room to have a quick chat with him. His enthusiasm and the Patron's mild annoyance at what I suppose was a request was somewhat audible even if they were for the most part whispering at each other. Loudly whispering.
"Fine! But you have 15 minutes and you better have your ass there when I expect you to." The Patron concluded the conversation audibly, poking at Rigel's chest with his finger.
"And miss my cue?" Rigel shook his head with an amused smile. "You should know by now that I never miss my cues."
"Sure, whatever. I'll leave some of my boys by the door to give you a 'friendly' reminder when your time is up. I warn you."
"Whatever you say, Patrón"
The Patron shot a glance at us and with a nod, he commanded his tugs to surround us.
"Before you go: Rempant, where are your shears?" Asked Rigel as he approached him.
Rempant replied by nudging his head at his cell.
"Just don't leave a mess." He warned.
We were placed in a single line ordered by height and escorted to the locker room area.
Although the tunnels we traveled through were underground, the cheers and pounding of the crowd were loud enough to be noticed.
There were some other muffled sounds coming from the speakers in the arena but I was too busy realizing that in less than an hour I'd be fighting for my life.
The weight of the dread and anxiety that accumulated in my stomach was overwhelming to say the least. Or was that just the food from earlier? Maybe a combination of it all?
"Relax, kid." I heard Zagusha say. She was the second shortest, followed by Rempant and the massive behemoth that was Montaak. I was surprised that last could walk so easily in the halls. He wasn't as wide as he was tall but still, I think it could pose some challenge to move around. "You'll figure it out. Survival makes us do interesting things. You'll just have to think fast and move smart."
I don't think I can do both things at the same time.
At the lockers, we were met by an arboreal female that was literally bouncing with enthusiasm. From what she was holding, she looked to be either cleaning staff or a specific locker room attendant. It was kind of hard to tell given that she seemed more interested in us than her job.
Her tail was standing straight up and waving like a child with a crab claw all themselves as she greeted us at the door.
"Hey y'all!" She sounded like the stereotype of a herder. Was she playing it up or did some people actually sound like that? "Welcome! Welcome! 'S been a while! I was just here getting the place ready to receive ya. Ohh!" She cooed, her eyes noticing me and scanning me up and down. "You must be the newbs. Hiya!" Her main hands grabbed one of my own, shaking it and squeezing with force. Yep, a herder all right. What kind of things did her cluster handle though? Scorpions? "Name's Mahara. It's sure nice to see one 'a ours goin' 'round these bouts. Just be careful out there, ya know?" Without letting my hand go she practically dragged me toward Rempant as she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Y'all best be takin' care of these sweeties. I'm not ta judge you warriors 'n stuff but he seems as soft as a hatched 'poly. Imma be very sad if he doesn't make it."
Zagusha began laughing. I was embarrassed, but strangely enough a little comforted by this whole thing.
Rempant rolled his eyes, shaking his head and taking my hand out of hers. "I will do my best, Mahara."
"Oh, thank you Ren-Ren! That's why yer mah favorite!" Mahara replied just as enthusiastically as before. Rempant tried his best to not look flustered but my hand sure got a squeeze from him. And it was with his good hand! I tugged it in reply and he thankfully let go.
"Looks like you got an admirer." Zagusha flashed Rempant a smile.
"Bah, it's nothing like that." He waved his hand dismissively, looking at a wall. One of his eyes twitched.
"Say, Ren-Ren," Mahara began her question, ushering us inside the locker room. As each of us got in, she would pause and look around as if searching for something. "Where's Rigel? Wasn't he coming with y'all?"
"He's back in our cells, only the shadows know what he's concocting."
"I'm actually surprised the Patron gives him so much leeway." I commented, rubbing my poor squeezed hand with my auxiliaries. I paused, considering everything that had happened yesterday. "Actually, from what I saw it seems like you've been treated quite well."
"It wasn't always like that. A lot has changed ever since that nutcase arrived." Rempant explained. He walked towards the center of the room, glancing around casually. Mahara herself moved to the side of the wall Montaak had plopped on, sitting next to him. He acknowledged her by wiggling a hand, making her smile. "I have been fighting in this arena for almost 3 years and while my winning streak has brought some comfort and privileges, nothing came close to the liberty Rigel has. He's a very competent warrior, that's for sure, but for some reason he gained the favor of the Patron."
"That one is easy." Zagusha's voice intruded. She raised her right hand and tapped the tip of her thumb with her index, the universal gesture of credits. "I saw some of your fights before coming down here and, while impressive, it doesn't compare to the kind of extravagance and execution he brings to every match. That sort of thing brings a lot of views. Views that you can monetize. I remember one of my clients complaining that he had to pay a premium to view the match that introduced you three as a group." She pointed at Rempant and Montaak. "He ended up dishing out the credits and boy that was quite a night. So, of course, he has to pamper his most profitable goon. But I guess that's going to change now that we're headed to space."
"Client?" I asked. "What did you do before this?"
She hesitated visibly, but before she could answer or, more likely, deflect, the sound of a horn rumbled the room. It reminded me of a lur, a ceremonial horn my people used at the beginning of big fights or important announcements. It had a low bassy blast that must have gone on for a couple of minutes and was followed by an even louder cheer from the crowd.
"I do believe that's the sound of the show startin'" Said Mahara, springing up on her feet. She stretched both sets of arms and her back before skipping close to me. "Y'all better be going now. Ren-Ren," she turned her head towards him. How his face went from serious to the not-at-all flustered stiffness was actually quite endearing. From the looks of Zagusha's expresion, she felt the same. "Ya know where the main gate's at, right? Or d'ya want me to take y'all there?"
"What did I tell you about calling me that?" He muttered.
"Oh, come on. I know ya like it." She winked. "Mon-mon doesn't mind when I call him by my nickname."
"It is better than whatever…" Montaak mumbled with quiet annoyance, pausing mid sentence. He continued, shaking his head. "Rigel comes up with."
"A'rright y'all. We better hurry up or else the Peitron's gonna get mad!" Mahara called at us from outside the locker room, waving at us to come out.
As we did, we were flanked by the same thugs that escorted us there in the first place as our cheery assistant took us to the arena.
The closer we walked into the gate where we would meet our fate, I felt my heart beat faster.
It wasn't just the fact that I could very well just have this be the place I die, but also the thrill of being part of something that was larger than life.
The idea of making a name for myself, of tagging along with warriors that have proven themselves time and time again on low-q pirated streams I've seen at the bar, was thrilling.
In addition to how I felt was the sound of the crowd which got louder and louder as we approached the end of the tunnel. It was almost deafening. It was maybe even intoxicating
"It's a full house, I see." Said Mahara, hopping in place. "I betcha they sold out pretty quickly. That's very exciting."
"Where have you been, you ditz?" A male terran, dressed not unlike the guards that flanked us, approached our group. His grip on the tablet was forceful to say the least and he was ready to lash out. "The show started 10 minutes ago." He shot an accusing glare at her before scanning around us. "You," he pointed in my direction. "Get your tail out there already. They've already given most of your profile."
Without any warning, he reached out to the one extremity that had been squeezed more times than it should have that day, and dragged me to the edge of the hall. I wasn't necessarily resisting but I also wasn't exactly ready to go out already!
As best as I could, I glanced back toward the rest of the crew I was leaving behind. I noticed Mahara too, who was sheepishly waving goodbye.
"Alright tree-hugger! Out you go!" He said, and a shove sent me stumbling out into the open.
The Kai'gaihg arena, known better as 'the Death Pit', was a structure I had seen enough times outside and few inside via the pirated fees we broadcasted at the bar but nothing could compare to how big the structure really was.
A circular building with rows upon rows full of seats and an eager person in every one, covered at the top with a transparent reinforced glass held by metallic pipes of dubious durability. I say that because there was at least one section I noticed had cracked open, allowing the punishing acid rain to come down on the unfortunate spectators sitting at the topmost row…and more relevant for me, several sections leaking rain onto the otherwise dusty ground level I was on.
The wall that separated the first row of spectators from the heated battles was probably tall enough that Montaak would need to climb it. Maybe a big leap would do although I wasn't sure how capable he was of jumping in general. Rather than rock like much of the structure was, it was made out of reinforced ker-nag, one of the strongest alloys known to our kind.
One feature to note specifically from that first row, aside from having an extra layer of protection over the ker-nag divider wall made out of glass or possibly thick silicon crystal, was a very sophisticated and adorned booth located where I assumed would be the best spot in the whole place. VIPs and Elites, I assumed.
"...Here at Science Team, we value alternative options." said a voice on the loudspeakers which I recognized as being that of Tilenk's. So that's where he went! "We do not deny our humble beginnings yet our ambitions spur us to become better. Thus we have a subject which, according to studies and empirical results, should have a difficult time surviving. And yet, you will recall how previous matches have shown time and time again that there is always room for the impossible to happen."
"He sure is a funny looking fellow for sure." Replied a different male voice. He sounded disinterested but his enthusiasm picked up quickly. "Well, if anybody is interested, here are the neat details summarized for your convenience."
4 pairs of hovering projectors descended from a larger orb that was attached to the center of the glass dome. After positioning themselves in a way that they could project a screen per pair, they began transmitting a live video feed of myself along with a brief summary that included the name I gave to Rigel, a short profile and. . . the reason I was apprehended?!
Name - Hawk [ Rookie extraordinaire ] Species/ Build - Arboreal Kirlean Bio - Youngest male of a cluster of 10. Hatched and raised in a commune located in the northeastern forests of the Capital specialized in herding gray haired spiders.
Ventured into the Capital and worked as an unlicensed tour guide and bar tender where he doubled as a black market agent. Reason for apprehension - Counterfeit and Contraband.
"W-What?!" I said, staring at my bewildered face projected on the screen. I don't remember that part being in the profiles we read back at the cells! And, sure, the bar I worked at sold some adulterated and artificially whitened Shines but there wasn't much I could do about it. Why wasn't my boss here?!
"Moving on from that…Do I have a treat to show you tonight!" The male voice, whom I got to recognize as the arena's announcer, paused. The crowd, incited by his enthusiasm, began to cheer again. "We have another newcomer I'm very sure you'll be very interested in meeting. Feast your eyes on our next member of the group. This graceful hybrid is ready to make your day. But! Be wary, for she is as cunning as she is stunning. Introducing to you live from Kai'gaihg, the Black Beauty Zagusha!"
The moment her image was streamed on the screens, people began to go wild.
Males of all ages, usually those in their early adulthood, were excitedly gesturing with hands and tails all kinds of intentions they had towards her.
She was very beautiful, no doubt there, but seeing her become an object of desire made my stomach churn.
On the screens, aside from shots that exalted her curvy hips and the sensual wiggle of her tail, was her information.
Name - Zagusha [ The Black Beauty ] Species / Build - Arboreal descended Hybrid Kirlean Bio - Hatched and raised in the Capital, heiress from a cluster of entrepreneurs descended from the first explorers that retook the city during the era of Exploration. That is, at least what her records show. Due to her crimes, these have casted a shadow of doubt about her true persona. Well trained in long range combat and weaponry. Reason for apprehension - Fraud. Genetic muddling. Embezzlement.
Zagusha arrived close to me and gave me a smile. She didn't seem at all bothered by the crude attention and the charges displayed on screen.
"How did you. . .?"
"It's not a big deal, honestly." She said nonchalantly. She then pointed at a section of the crowd where I saw mostly females huddled close to each other, staring at the screen closest to them. "See that group over there? The only real difference between male and females is that one is louder and more disorderly than the other when it comes to displaying affection. But at the core of it, it's the same."
"I wasn't referring to that!" I tried to correct myself, flustered. "When did you commit fraud and…all of that?"
"Eh," she shrugged. "A while back."
"What is your prediction about this combatant, my esteemed Tilenk?" Asked the announcer.
"Well, hybrids are called as such since they are, after all, the result of crossing our initial two breeds. This results in a myriad of outcomes which bring a lot of great benefits to the offspring or worsen a characteristic. Zagusha here is obviously the fortunate winner of the genetic lottery, with an increased height in comparison to what is expected of arboreals. And while she wasn't provided with auxiliary arms, it seems that instead she was given a longer and very flexible tail. I believe it to be fully prehensile, and it may even be a beneficiary of the strength of her Terran parent."
"So, you're telling me that she could coil her tail around you and squeeze you to death?" The announcer's voice asked in a suggestive tone.
"Unfortunately, I do not have the empirical data that could allow me to respond to that question." The scientist continued, completely blasé. "Today we get to analyze this hybrid specimen and see what she is capable of. Her stamina, her vigor. Isn't the prospect of learning something new exciting?"
The crowd replied by howlering and waving their limbs upwards to the air.
"Hmm," Zagusha crossed her arms, tilting her head as she watched the raunchy spectacle around us. "And here I thought all of Science Team were eunuchs by default."
Wait, what?
"That finishes up the round of new additions. Give them all a round of applause!." Enticed the announcer, the crowd replied with another round of cheers, claps and all kinds of flailing.
After a couple of minutes of non-stop madness, the sound of loud electronic (?) horns blared across the arena. This turned out to be the introduction to a melody that swelled the excitement of the crowd to levels I thought were not possible, their enthusiasm becoming frantic. People began to stand up from their seats, trying to either get a better look at the arena or looking upwards to see the screens.
"Sirs and gentlelasses!" The announcer began his speech, earning the excited roar of the people. "The moment you have all been waiting for. On behalf of the Patron who hosts this arena and the team behind this event, we thank you for your patience and support. And now! Clawing his way from the depths of the planet's core, born from a sea of azurr, a one of a kind warrior ready to raze everything that opposes him. Presenting to you all one of the most deadly weapons Science team has brought to light, the Cursed Elite, Montaak!"
Bursts of blue smoke and flares began to pop at the main entrance of the arena, creating a thick layer that shrouded the entrance.
As that was happening, a song began to accompany the melody, which I originally thought of as wailing. It was hard to understand as it would drag the syllables for a dramatic effect. There was also the fact that I couldn't understand any of the words spoken there.
Slowly and silently, almost theatrically, Montaak emerged from the smokescreen, making his way towards us. He would take a few steps forward, stop, glance side to side and then continue walking..
In the screens, his information appeared:
Name - Montaak [ The Cursed Elite ] Species / Build - Azurr augmented Terran Bio - Science Team's most successful result from 'Project Talon' - as of now - which focuses on methods to augment our species with the intent of unlocking the next stage of evolution through the application of azurr. Subject has doubled in size, exhibits remarkable levels of stamina, and generates Azurr to attack his foes. Furthermore, no cognitive degeneration has been detected.
I frowned. So Montaak's a science experiment?
As hard to read as he was, I could tell he wasn't particularly a fan of the moniker or the attention he was receiving. If anything, maybe the reason he was often by himself was because it made him happy. Taking some time to read some of those scrolls. Quite a weird juxtaposition to think about.
The one who was arguably the strongest amongst us was the one that was less eager to fight. I couldn't help but feel pity for him.
"Project Talon is quite controversial among our crew." Commented Tilenk. "So much in fact that I am surprised to see its name on the screens. Unfortunately for you, details as to why that is or what it entails is still very much highly classified. As with many previous experiments with azurr, we expected as many improvements as we did failures. To see him walking in the arena, having remained stable for such a long time and capable of all the prowess that you've witnessed in the arena is proof of what progress through the careful hand of Science, under the watchful guidance of High Command, can achieve."
"And what an achievement it has been, my esteemed Tilenk: from that very first sweeping match to the ones that have led to this moment, Montaak has shown time and time again how deadly azurr can be. Countless enemies and weapons destroyed, and so explosive too! Who here is ready for explosions?"
By this point, the crowd was completely unhinged. Had it not been for the rails and the usherers on each level, people would have started to climb down, eager to get closer to take a look.
As the giant arrived at the location we were standing, he greeted us with a single nod.
I nodded back in return.
"Don't worry," Montaak said, bowing his body down slightly so I could hear him better. "I will keep an eye on you and provide assistance as I had mentioned previously. Remember to follow the cues."
"Right, the cues. From this song?"
"No." He shook his head. "It will probably be the one playing after Rigel makes his appearance."
"Ok." I replied, confused. Just how many songs could that alien have?
"Up next," The announcer spoke again, pausing for a moment for added dramatism. "Forged among raids, survivor of a thousand battles. A veteran both in the fields and in this very arena, he is a fierce fighter that proves time and time again why death is for others. Give it up for the Immortal Soldier, Rempant!"
Similar to Montaak, the entrance to the arena was covered by a smokescreen and flares but the hue chosen was red. What I didn't expect was to watch him rush into the arena, stop midway and roar at the crowd. He raised his arms and held them high as he seemingly gathered the crowd's reaction. Harmonic howling, not unlike the ones soldiers on dramatized programmes shown on streams would do to respond to their seniors or Lead Commandos. After a few minutes of that, Rempant lowered his arms, only to slowly bend his right prosthetic arm and tap his chest with his fist. Then he walked to our little group almost casually. Military ritual (?) aside, what awed me the most was that he really could move with that false leg as if nothing. There was some minor limping but for the most part it was just as functional as a regular leg.
"So, was that dramatic enough?" Rempant asked, glancing at Montaak with a sardonic smile.
"Compared to Rigel?" The giant replied dryly. "Not really."
"Bah, there's no way you can tackle his level of drama." The Soldier waved him off, rolling his eyes "Even if I managed to get in contact with the Commando that led my division and convinced him to get an airship to drop me into the stadium, plasma gun blazing, I'd barely make a blip in his dramatics."
In the screens above, his profile was displayed.
Name - Rempant [ The Immortal Soldier] Species / Build - Elite Terrestrial Bio - Raised among the ranks of the Warrior caste, he has been successful both in the battlefield as a soldier and as a squad leader. Due to his outstanding work, discipline, and diligence, he was granted the rank of Master Commander. As a way to keep his skill sharp, he has offered his services in the Arena as its most long lived gladiator.
Rempant growled in protest. A scowl formed in his face and he clenched his fists.
Something told me there was either an omission of the facts or some alteration.
"Tilenk, could you explain to the crowd what a Master Commander is?" Asked the announcer. Said question made Rempant's scowl grow.
"As with any other caste, hierarchies are placed as a way to organize things. In this specific case, a Master Commander is a special group where only the most veteran and accomplished Commandos are placed. They've had decades in the field and knowledge which is too precious to lose. As such, they are given the chance to leave their duties and impart that knowledge to those that follow."
"That sounds like a great honor there!"
"Yes. While they are unable to interact directly with field operations, let alone participate, they can still provide aid as counselors or judges in the matters of military court or some civil matters. Rempant here is a special case as it is unusually rare that one from the Warrior caste is elevated to Commando, let alone be given the privilege of retiring."
"Are you sure he's retired?" The announcer said mockingly. "He's standing out there, fighting against all sorts of things! Surely, that is not what I'd imagine a retiree would do."
"It might be due to genetic disposition. After all: you can retire the soldier from the field but never their fighting spirit."
Rempant's reaction to the discussion was puzzling to me.
If it was such a high privilege and so rare to have such rank awarded to him, why was he so displeased about it?
Personally, if given the choice between fight and leave I would leave.
In the background, the music began to fade. The lights that had illuminated the entire arena began to slowly dim down, causing a stir in the audience whose cheers also began to quiet.
Confused, I looked around to see what had changed and I noticed that Zagusha was too.
The announcer had stopped announcing, and Tilenk was quiet too. The murmur of the crowd was all I could hear.
Has something unexpected happened? Where are we going to be let go? That can't be it, right?
"What's going on?" I turned towards Rempant and Montaak whose expressions remained placid and unphased. Oh, so, we were still doing things? What was the plan next? Were we going to start soon? Where's. . .?
The sound of drums interrupted my question. There were two pairs of people under a spotlight, holding large mallets and hitting large drums in a rhythm that felt incomplete. Two beats and a pause. It sounded like the pounding of a heart.
Soon, the crowd began to follow. They would either stomp their feet or slap their thighs and follow the initial beat with a clap. It quickly spread around the stadium, rumbling the structure..
"Here he comes." Rempant said. He had a smile on his face.
Montaak just sighed in response.
After a while, lyrics sung by a male voice began booming out of the speakers. It was sung in a language I am sure nobody in the stadium could understand and yet it transmitted enthusiasm perfectly. The voice paused and it was soon followed by the audience who sang in a choir.
"Vih vel vih vel r'ak yiu! Vih vel vih vel r'ak yiu!"
It was apparent this wasn't the first time the people at the arena had heard this particular tune. The entire crowd stomped and clapped with the rhythm almost like they'd rehearsed it.
Around the second time the words were repeated another spotlight swung towards the direction of the tunnel showcasing the arrival of Rigel, whose attire and appearance was an utterly bizarre but coordinated disaster.
He wore a tattered sleeveless overcoat noticeably too big for him, maybe because it came from an arboreal. As I watched the projected feed above us I noted he had nothing underneath, allowing the audience to see his bare torso. On his legs were a pair of fitted black pants, and at the waist was a crudely made star-shaped buckle that flashed with red, white, and blue lights. If the outfit itself wasn't extravagant enough on its own, his choice of hairstyle was something to look at: the mop on top of his head had been cut in a way that left the sides almost completely shaved, dyed in either a dark purple or black. What remained, left in the natural (?) blue he sported at the cell, had either exploded or expanded outward to form soft fluffy spikes.
There was no smokescreen nor flares to greet him, but the audience abandoned the rhythm in favor of screaming frantically.
Rigel didn't seem phased at all, coolly walking into the arena while waving his hands upwards with the rhythm and quickly guiding them back into sequence.
He walked into the arena in time with the song, and I could see him singing along. He didn't have a microphone though, so I couldn't actually hear him over the crowd. Then he started turning each step into a dance, until just as he reached our group the speakers boomed with an instrument I'd never heard before and he began to dance in place.
As he did, his data was displayed.
Name - Rigel [ The Maestre of Death ] Species / Build - Mo'tha'fu'keh Bio - Brought to Kir'hul as a raid trophy, he was put to the test in a gladiatorial fight from which he emerged victorious to the crowd's disbelief. Quick minded and nimble, he has shown time and time again his combat skills which he pairs with displays of music and acrobatics.
"It always confuses me the way his species is pronounced." Said the announcer, once the performance was over. Even with the enhanced volume from the microphone, it was hard to talk over the cheers. "Mota… Moth'a…" "Perhaps we lack the vocal range to do so properly." Concluded Tilenk. "As a matter of fact, we have little to no information about his species. My understanding is that he wasn't the only of his kind our Commandos managed to capture. However, he was the only one that survived the trials of the Pit." He paused. "This, of course, prompted the Science Team to investigate. Sadly by the time we recovered the other samples, they were far too damaged to obtain any viable data from. It was quite disappointing."
"By the way, do you have any information regarding the music playing in the background? Any fan of his knows well enough to expect some sort of background tune while he fights, but has Science Team determined a meaning to the songs?
"As far as I can tell, no."The scientist replied. "While we did obtain a full copy of the contents of the device the music was stored on, we haven't been able to determine the pattern of each track. We have identified over a thousand sound files that, in all honesty, we don't have time to analyze. Research done during these battles have concluded, however, that there are words in three different languages, one of which contains what appear to be kirlean words. Again, we have no record of encountering his species before, which makes this fascinating!"
"So, team." Rigel said, extending his arms as he approached our little spot at the center of the arena. "Who's ready to rock?"
Rempant's gaze scanned Rigel. His expression shifted from confused to annoyed, shaking his head at the end.
"What did you do to my shears?" The soldier asked, narrowing his eyes accusatively.
"I swear they are still there." Rigel reassured him. His smile made me wonder about the condition they were left in. "I was trying some Glam but this was all I could finish in the twenty minutes I was given. Eh, let's call it Punk Glam and pretend it's cool."
"Makes me wonder if your whole species is as crazy as you." Zagusha commented, snickering.
"Crazy? A little bit." He wiggled his hand "Like me? Pfh, not even close."
The arena lights went back to their original level, illuminating the place completely.
"So, what's next?" I asked the group. We were now huddled together to better hear each other while the announcer took a moment to thank and promote other sponsors of the event. In a clever move, Montaak had hunched down enough to block the drone's camera view of us. A bit of privacy was always welcome.
"We'll either get zerg rushed by foot soldiers following a giant Mecha or we'll have…" Rigel paused, groaning and swaying his head annoyed. "five fucking turret operators before we fight what ever new toy Science team is testing."
"I have a weapon." I said with a mixture of pride and sheepishness, showing the alien the contraption Rempant had constructed me. Rigel looked positively surprised. "But I'll admit, I'm not exactly well versed in fighting turrets?"
"If they bring turrets, Montaak and Rigel can take them down." Rempant said. "You're welcome to tag along but be warned: I won't be on nymph watch. You'll have to fight back."
"If it helps, I can keep an eye on him." Zagusha commented, winking at me. I nodded nervously.
Just as Rigel gestured the group to close the circle tighter, possibly with the idea of making it even harder for the drones to record or simply for the ease of talking, a loud creaking was heard on the other side of the arena.
The sand and mud that had formed from the filtering acid rain was shifting, creating a hole in the ground.
Our leader wasn't pleased with the interruption, cursing while growling about the turrets again.
However, as I looked at the reaction of the team, I came across Montaak's utterly distraught face.
His eyes were wide, his posture had turned very stiff, and the large, triangular scales on his sides and back began to rattle against each other. I had to learn that one when I got to the capital, since it was terrestrial only: he was having a sudden case of 'fight or flight.'
"Montaak, what's wrong?" I asked him, slowly turning my head at the front once more.
He didn't respond. His breathing started to get deeper, exhaling from his mouth.
"For today's match," The announcer said enthusiastically. "High Command has provided us an interesting foe to fight. Not just one, but two of these. My understanding is that they also come from Project Talon?"
A quiet but perplexed 'what?' from Tilenk was uttered into the microphone.
The things emerging from the holes in the floor were a pair of large, square enclosures. They had thick anti-rifle crystal walls, and inside were two large blue creatures with no discernable eyes and a lot of teeth. They had the overall body of a lizard but their features were both distorted and enlarged: incredibly thick claws, long wiggly tongues and elongated tails. Their scales had an electric blue sheen, fused into the skin like needles rather than creating a protective coat. They seemed to be scratching at the walls to find a way through, and one was running a long, gross tongue across the glass and leaving behind a trail of blue slime that was trailing down to puddle on the floor.
The puddle looked like azurr.
"Do you have anything to disclose about these creatures, Tilenk?"
Tilenk remained quiet. He may have muttered something, but it was drowned out by the audience's fascination.
The announcer asked him once more, emphatically. The Scientist cleared his throat.
"As mentioned earlier, Project Talon is a bit controversial even within Science Team, and most of what I know is quite classified. However, with the permission of the members of the Science Team committee and High Command that may be present, I will disclose the information you request: After our previous success with Montaak, naturally our approach was to repeat it. We carefully analyzed his blood samples and concluded that a subject needed specific traits to survive the enhancement. We couldn't just throw people blindly into pools of azurr, hoping for something to happen. So, we sought candidates with favorable characteristics, not only in body but in mental fortitude. However, even that wasn't enough."
Tilenk's voice sounded a bit absent. After another brief pause to gather his thoughts, he continued
"Obviously, I commented, we really weren't getting appropriate candidates. They were mostly sourced from the bottom and Montaak was. . . exceptional. So, 'why don't we just start from scratch instead of grabbing from the masses?', I proposed."
"Well fuck, I didn't have Azurr beasts in my bingo when I woke up today." Rigel stepped forward. His voice was as jovial as usual but his semblance was serious. He turned to Montaak who had remained frozen the entire time. "Did you know about this?"
"No." Montaak replied quietly, shaking his head. Being addressed seemed to have snapped him out of the trance, but he was noticeably tense. "I can hear their forges loud and clear. They are here to process us."
"Process us? You mean like, eat us?" I said turning towards the pair, clenching the claw tightly with one auxiliary. Could he actually hear the creature's thoughts? That's not something kirleans can do. Was that why he reacted that way?
"If it's like what the stories my pop used to tell me, these things will turn you into azurr and then absorb you." Our leader said. "They'll turn anything into azurr. That's what they do to get stronger."
"So what do we do?" Zagusha asked, blaster already in hand. "You sound like you know how to deal with them. Any suggestions?"
"And how do you know what they are? Do they have azurr where you come from?" I asked. No one seemed to be listening to me though.
"For starters drop the bolt gun." Rempant said. He began to move his body as if stretching. "If it doesn't affect Montaak, it will probably be useless against them. And if they're made with azurr…Rigel," he lifted his prosthetic arm at the alien, fist clenched. "If you propose to blow them up, I will punch you in the face."
"Usually I would." Rigel turned at him, amused. "Even I know that's a bad idea. An azurr explosion from a critter that size would kill all of us, and if it didn't then it'd probably throw around so much unexploded azurr that we'd get eaten by it anyway. For now, let me shuffle and see where to go from there."
By this point, it became clear that the slime on the creature's gross wiggly tongue was mostly azurr because it had made a decently large hole in the crystal. The other critter seemed to have had the same idea, and by this point they had both managed to get their heads through the holes they'd made to start gnawing at the sides. The pools of azurr on the floor were growing larger by the second, and it wouldn't be long before the creatures were free.
Rigel pulled the plastic box I saw this morning from a holster on his belt and pressed it a couple of times before returning it. Music began to fill the arena once more.
Hawk
Rigel
Montaak
Rempant
Zagusha
Tilenk
5
4
5
5
6
1
+1
0
+1
+1
+2
-2
"Tch, wasn't expecting the same artist but it's not a bad song. Not what I'd pick to fight, though." Rigel was slowly nodding to himself. "Decently followable tempo. Yeah, I think I can work with this. What do you think, team?"
There was something ethereal about the song. Maybe it was just how cheerful and carefree it sounded but listening to this almost seemed to ease the worries I'd had all morning. Also Rigel was right, I could follow this tempo too.
"I thought you liked that maestre," Rempant said, his stretching having progressed to his neck now. "One of the few I can tolerate, actually."
"I hadn't heard songs from this one before." Zagusha followed. She began to nod and sway her hips and tail to the rhythm. "Yeah, I might actually like this one a lot. Very lively."
Montaak remained quiet, but his mood had changed drastically. His shoulders had straightened and I thought I may have actually sported a smile. His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened to look at the creatures again he seemed much more confident.
"Rigel," The giant said, turning towards his alien acquaintance. "You know about azurr beasts. Does punching them work?"
"Pops knew a friend who could. Not sure how effective it is, and I don't think I'll try it since I'm way too pretty to end up as a blue puddle, but I'd bet you could." Rigel winked at Montaak with a grin. Rempant looked incredulously between them, but Montaak just responded with a shrug.
"An option is always good," was all Montaak had to say for himself.
Before they could talk further, Rigel pushed past them toward the center of the arena and the two azurr beasts. "Listen everyone!" he belted out loudly enough to be heard over the crowd, extending his arms. " I'm gonna have myself a really good time. . . "
Phew... that was quite a post.
Now we begin our first fight of the Quest! Please see the informational post for exactly how combat will work, and then please put together a plan vote.
Unlike usual votes where you dictate Hawk's actions and no one else's, the combat plan will be treated as the one that our intrepid hero Rigel has come up with to direct his team in. Please format your vote with each character whose action you're dictating, and the difficulty of the action they take. These actions will be taken in order.
Further, you are welcome to provide a brief (literally one to two sentences! Any more will be disqualified!) description of what the character will do for their part of the plan. Doing so will net that character one extra die on their roll.
Reminder, each character in the group must act once before any character may take a second action. Since you have exactly five people in the fight right now and five actions to take, that works out neatly. Still, remember for the future when you only have a couple of people.
Please vote by plan, not by individual action. An example plan of five actions follows:
". . .And the world, I'll turn it inside out. . ."
Rigel continued his way towards the beasts even though they had to be seconds from breaking their containers.
I couldn't fathom how he was able to do theatrics without a hint of hesitation or fear. It almost looked like he had practiced this, singing the lyrics of a song I couldn't understand.
"Keep an eye on his hands, kid." I heard Rempant's grinding voice. He moved just behind me. "Especially his left. That's where you pick the cues."
"Right," I replied, unconvinced. Still, I followed the soldier's recommendation, watching motions that had to be meant for directing a music group even if they didn't match what a kirlean would use.
Rempant seemed to understand, though, and he shook his head as he moved past me.
"Hah, the straightforward way, huh?" He barked, chuckling. "Fine by me!"
Rempant dashed forward. It was impressive how little his prosthetic leg affected his mobility, despite how crude it was built.
The first of the beasts had broken free of its cage and was approaching Rigel with its hideous blue tongue dragging on the ground. Rempant leaped over Rigel's head with a roar and drove all of that momentum through his metal fist and into its head. Its skull collapsed like a ripe fruit and its body staggered back to lean against the cage it just left.
"BY THE SKY DEMONS! LOOK AT THAT ATTACK!!!" Exclaimed the announcer. The crowd roared with excitement. My mouth was agape. "'No Fear, No Surrender' is the Warrior's Oath but MAN!"
Rempant immediately jumped back, avoiding the toxic blue spray from the beast's wound and landing close to where Rigel stood. Though our leader kept directing, he seemed as surprised as anyone at that result.
"We can punch them all right." I heard Rempant said loudly enough so we could hear him over the crowd. He hadn't taken his eyes off the beast's body. "But it's definitely not enough."
Further discussion was cut short as the second beast, which I had forgotten existed, leapt out of its cage toward the pair. Rigel and Rempant reacted just in time to split out to the sides, setting the creature in the path where I stood.
It had no eyes, but it was definitely looking at me. It was coming toward me, and it was gonna kill me. It was gonna kill me!
What…what am I supposed to do? I lifted the shears Rempant gave me, and knew before I even moved that they'd never cut this thing. Not in my hands! This thing was gonna kill me! My first fight ever and I was gonna get eaten by some stupid oozing eyeless monster like the dumbest guy in the horror cast! I WAS THE IDIOT WHO DIES FIRST!
Suddenly, an orange plasma beam pierced the head of the creature, searing a hole in it. Focused as I was on the creature, I noticed that some of that blue still oozed from the hole even though the wound should've been cauterized. That was weird.
Zagusha strolled casually past me, a small plasma caster held almost negligently in her hand. "Guess shooting at it does work." She said with a cocky smile on her face. Turning to me, she tapped my tail with hers. The touch sent a jolt down my spine and it was like I could finally breathe again, the moment finally broken. Her look turned a little concerned. "That was close, wasn't it?"
I winced. Pitiful as it may have sounded, I didn't expect to have my turn so soon!
She nodded and pointed behind her "Wanna tag along for a while? This isn't done yet."
Rempant said that before, and looking back at the first creature I could see that both of them were right: its head had already regained its shape, and it was pushing itself back to its feet. And the second beast had been stunned by having a new hole introduced to its brainpan, but after only a couple seconds it was shaking itself like a wooly spider coming in out of the rain and looking at us like we were lunch. The two of us started backing away.
The two beasts were stalking toward us as we retreated, seeming to consider how to approach us as Rempant in turn circled around the side. I thought they might be about to pounce when Rigel and Montaak passed us at a run. I didn't even know Montaak could move that fast!
The first beast ducked backward to avoid Montaak's heavy fist, and the second lashed out with its tongue as he did. It found no purchase though, because Rigel slid under Montaak's arm with centimeters to spare and swung a piece of scrap he'd picked up somewhere. It caught the beast's tongue, and when he dropped the scrap that tongue was briefly caught.
Without missing a beat, almost as if they'd practiced ahead of time, Montaak followed his own fist forward to grab the side of the cage and hauled back to drop it on the distracted, pinned second beast. With a crash it was struck by the falling metal, but it managed to twist out of the way enough to not be pinned underneath even as it finally managed to free its tongue.
The focus on that one creature cost them though, as the first beast lunged forward to bite Montaak's wrist before he could get away. Before he could hit it back, it darted away to stand next to its companion.
"A STRONG FIRST EXCHANGE! OUR BRAVE GLADIATORS HAVE BLOODIED THEIR ENEMY, BUT NOT WITHOUT COST! CAN THEY KEEP IT UP, OR WILL THEY FIND THEMSELVES REDUCED TO PUDDLES OF AZURR BY THESE HIDEOUS BEASTS!?" the announcer, at least, sounded like he was having a good time.
Seven combatants paused, considering their next move. I was one of them, I knew, but it hardly felt like it. It was almost like I was watching from outside. Did I have a next move? Could I make a difference here?
Thank you for your patience! We are now in round 2 of this battle!
Remember to format your vote with each character whose action you're dictating, and the difficulty of the action they take. These actions will be taken in order. Please vote by plan, not by individual action.
Current Foe HP - 10/12 Current Foe CR - 12
Current Party's Stats
Member
HP
Current Song Bonus
Status
Hawk
6/6
+1
Skips next turn
Rigel
8/8
+0
N/A
Montaak
9/10
+1
N/A
Rempant
8/8
+1
N/A
Zagusha
7/7
+2
N/A
*TL;DR - Starting from this post, every hard option will hit regardless of failure or success. The other effects on the difficulty remain.
Waiting to see what you come up for the next round. Remember to recommend this thread to your friends so things get messy
