A Dangerous New World

[of Dirt]

overview

•  

overview

•  

overview

• 
  Dear Diary,
  
  I apologize for the huge gap in writing, for I have not the time ever since...well. It has been exactly one year since the terrible accident, in which we have found ourselves upon this place. Although we have successfully colonized some of this new found land, it has been strictly by the skin of our teeth, and we are still trying to maintain it to this day. Ever since colonization has begun, we have dealt with frequent attacks, among other problems, which only seem to get worse by the day.
  
  I reside in the eastern colony, which is within a wasteland several miles away from the main city, generally consisting of dwarves. The people of this colony focus primarily upon the creation of weaponry and tools as well as buildings in order to benefit the rest of us. They have helped build the walls that surround and protect the main city. Each colony contributes to our survival in some way. Quite often, we receive attacks from strange creatures, which we believe are being summoned by a more powerful being. We know this because those capable of detecting the presence of magic detect it the most during the hours before an attack. I also often hear chanting in a different language. Although we know nothing of this summoner, we know that he must be killed as soon as possible if we ever hope to have peace. However, I fear he may just be toying with us at the moment. We may just be too weak for him.
  
  The western colony resides in a lush forest, two miles away from the main city. The people of this colony generally consist of elves and are responsible for the medicines and other potions that benefit the sick or the weak. Unfortunately, we haven't received any of these potions in many moons due to their own problems. Deeper within the unexplored depths of the forest, there is some sort of force draining away at the life of the trees and other plant life, or any life, for that matter. However, it doesn't always simply kill the plant life, it can also choose to corrupt it instead. In which case, we had rather it dead. A corrupt fruit or anything sort of plant life cannot be detected. If one were to enter the system of another being, they too become corrupt. This corruption drives them mad, but they are only aware of it at sundown. It is at sundown that they are attacked by those within their own ranks, friends even. Though the spread of corruption is slow, it is difficult to detect and we haven't found a way to negate it. It is truly horrific to think about, and I am simply glad my brother isn't other there.
  
  My brother resides in the northern colony, directly in front of the main city and within a large grassy plain. This colony generally consists of humans. It is surrounded by a natural river, with flows through the other colonies as well, serving as a quick way to get supplies to each other. These people are primarily focused upon gathering food and water for the main city. As of late, they are to do so for the western colony as well, due to their unreliable resources. This colony has experienced assaults from a bear-like species, from the forest across the river. Although they have only attacked when we enter to gather fish from the river, it is their potential that intimidates us most, and if the northern colony falls to them, they can easily continue to the main city. My brother and I have once traveled into the forest and watched the bears without being noticed. They are extremely intelligent, capable of speaking, and have created their own language amongst themselves. In terms of numbers, they overwhelm us. As to why they haven't completely run us out is beyond me, but a certain amount of troops are always kept there at all times in case of an attack.
  
  It is the northern colony in which I primarily am supposed to reside, but I have volunteered to assist the east in their defense as a soldier, for they have lowered in numbers severely. Although our problems remain separate and different, I fear that they may be more connected than we may think and that this may only be the beginning. At night, I have heard whispers in the wind, conversations of plots against us. Most are in different languages, of which I have yet to completely comprehend, but it would seem that there may be a higher and much more powerful being behind some, if not all, of these assaults. There are also conversations that I hear within our own ranks-- plots of betrayal. This place remains unexplored, for the most part. There will always be some power hungry individual who will intend to rise up and take land for his or herself. I just hope that greed does not separate us.
  
  We may have been here for a year and colonized this place, but the journey still holds difficult, in terms of making this our home.
  
  Sincerely,
  Lucia Empamore.
  
  @Reason
  @of Dirt
  

Dear Lucia Empamore,

As you know, over the past year, the northern colony has had several skirmishes with the creatures north of the river in our runs for food and other supplies. Although many have been wounded, we luckily have not suffered any casualties yet and would not like to start. They're dangerous and have the power to completely wipe us out. The northern colony is the city's last defense. We cannot risk angering them any further, but we need the fish from the river and the elves need the plant life on the other side for their people. I've been authorized to lead a small team to represent the colonies to make a deal with the creatures and make peace. We have no intention of fighting, but you must come prepared in case things turn for the worse. Your scouting abilities will prove useful, as they always have. An elf adept at healing and archery will accompany us. I've also requested for the dwarven blacksmith, Yolkiir Mirthas, for his wisdom and expertise. I presume you two will travel together. Bring your fastest horses, toughest armor and sharpest blades. Hopefully we won't need them. We begin our mission at sunrise. Be safe.

Sincerely, Lucian Empamore.

Lucia re-read the short letter she had gotten hours ago. It was clear why the expedition needed to be done, but it still felt a little crazy and risky. This was also the first time she had read a letter from her brother that wasn't personal, but an official notice and an order. The northern colony's commander's signature was beneath Lucian's, and as a soldier of that colony her participation in the mission was mandatory, unlike the elf and the dwarf. For them their help was a humble request that they could respectfully decline, though it would be unlikely given the colonies all worked together and needed each other in some way. Lucia herself had been fighting for the eastern colony for several months now, fighting off the dog-like demons that attack every so often. Her ability to hone in on distant sounds allowed her to know when an attack would be coming in advance. In the time she has been there, the attacks have become more predictable and less of a problem. Now the northern colony needed a favor.

When Lucia left the northern colony many months ago, her brother was no more than a soldier like her. The fact that he was leading an expedition, as small as it was, meant that things may have changed in her absence. She recalled that the idea to strike a deal with the creatures wasn't a new one. Lucian had been trying to convince their commander for quite some time now. Perhaps he's letting Lucian do all the work because he wants to have no responsibility if things go wrong. Either way, she was glad progress was being made, despite the danger she may be walking into.

She set the letter down on a table in her little hut and began to gather the things she would need to bring for the journey. She put on a black, leather tunic and burgundy, cloth pants to wear on the way and packed her chainmail armor to be worn for the mission. With her bow, quiver, daggers and broad sword, to those who didn't know her very well, she looked as though she were a jack of all trades, but wasn't extremely skilled with any of her weapons. During target practice, she was a good shot with the bow, but in the heat of battle and with moving targets, she seldom hit the mark. She didn't have the brute strength most men did with the broadsword. She was good with her daggers, but didn't like getting too close to her foes. Her interest in wanting to be a fighter was clear, but she was never sure what kind of fighter suited her best. The fact that she was more valued as a scout than as a fighter often bothered her.

It was midafternoon and often took a couple of hours (by horse) to reach the northern colony. Leaving soon meant getting there by sundown to get a good night's rest. Lucia mounted her horse and rode casually toward where she thought Yolkiir might be. Being that the dwarf has repaired her sword on more than on occasion and made her chainmail, they were far from strangers, but every colonist lived a very busy life. There was little room for free time and idle conversation. She hoped the ride together would fix that.

 

[Wolk]

As per usual, Yolkiir resided in his smithy, working armour and weapon, repairing them where possible, forging new ones where not.
Of course, he'd rather produce legendary gear of the rarest metals, though common materials would do for now - after all, the hammer's clang was music to his ears.
Some day, this new land might yield smithing material of unforseen potential, though the redheaded beardsman had yet to decide on what he would craft with it first.

"Hey, Yolkiir, can you repair my helmet?", Gallow asked.
Focused on smithing, Yolkiir did not notice the fair-headed human's approach.
"What? Ye bloody broke it again?! How do ye always accomplish that?", Yolkiir resounded.
Fixing equipment was by no means unordinary, though Gallow disfigured his helmets at an astounding pace.
"What is it ye do with yer helmet? Do ye keep falling on your head, or what?", the smith complained.
"Well, yeah, I was actually--"
"Ye better stop it then, pillock!", the soldier's explanation was stopped when the dwarf took his helmet.

To the lad's rejoice, the blacksmith had just finished his work on a shield for one of the new recruits.
Barret was his name, quite a good fighter apparantly, despite being even younger than Gallow.
Didn't fall on his raven-haired head that often either. Putting the shield and thoughts aside,
Yolkiir began hammering the helmet that must have had seen a hundred... grounds.
Somewhat annoyed he considered the idea that he probably wouldn't have to repair anymore helmets
if he didn't repair this one - though he wasn't entirely comfortable with leaving Gallow unprotected from himself either.

Around a dozen dents and minutes later, the headgear could almost be mistaken for newly crafted.
"Here, try not falling on yer head again."
"Thank you very much, Sir Mirthas!", Gallow seemed as astonished as ever.
Sometimes the metalworker wondered if that lad intentionally broke his helmets just to see him repair them.
"I'll head back to training now, have a good day!", and off he ran.

With that done the dwarf resumed his daily jobs, mostly fixing equipment damaged in the defences. Fortunately it was a rather temper day and there was "only" the fire's heat to worry about, though one acclimates to that with the years.

Very soon there was to be a journey to the northern colony, Lucia would probably invite him, as he was well-liked among the eastern colonists. Coincidentally, it was at this thought's moment when she approached...

 

[of Dirt]

The sound of hammer on metal grew closer as Lucia strolled closer to Yolkiir's smithy on horseback. Though the sound wasn't very appealing to her, she grew to appreciate the subtle differences in it depending on who was wielding the tools. Despite having spent several months at the colony, she still couldn't shake the fact that most of the dwarves looked the same to her. Yolkiir was particularly skilled at what he did and recognized the particular sound and cadence of his work that indicated it came from him. She dismounted as she got close, seeing Gallow pass her by after being scolded by Yolkiir for breaking his helmet yet again. She chuckled and approached the smithy, peeking inside. "Sir Mirthas?" she called as she stepped inside, wearing a smile.

Her own people back at the northern colony weren't nearly as good humored as the dwarves. They were much more jovial and willingly to indulge in celebration, even for the most mundane things, which she grew to appreciate. She often found herself preemptively smiling whenever she began talking to her fellow colonists, as she was doing, expecting something funny to be said. She tried not to make it so easy to make her laugh, but she usually failed, sometimes to her own annoyance as she wanted to be respected and taken seriously. "How are you this afternoon? I see Gallow is still not doing a very good job of taking care of his things," she said, followed by a small laugh.

She wanted to say more, but all that was on her mind was the mission that they were to be sent off to. Considering their general, laid-back attitude, she felt bad talking business so soon and without much small talk, but she didn't want to arrive at the northern colony too late. Being well rested for the mission assured that she'd be alert when it was most important. "I take it you've received a letter from the north?" she asked after a moment. "I know the mission sounds a bit dangerous, but I won't let us be surrounded. If there's even the slightest chance of trouble, we're out of there, no questions asked," she assured him, in case he had any doubts, which wouldn't have been unreasonable.

 

[Wolk]

Yolkiir Mirthas

"Aye, I've received the letter. Not sure if we can talk to these beasts, but I suppose it's worth a shot...", he answered after just finishing another arrowhead.
"If everything's set up correctly, we shouldn't have to worry. But I don't know what yer brother agreed to.", he considered, laying his hammer down. Their group should be able to handle an equal amount of creatures, any more might be dangerous.
"'Tis best we head out now, mayhap get some ale and good sleep ere morn. Or do ye need anything?".
Lucia shook her head, "No.".
"Fair enough. I'll just get some aliments...".
Yolkiir spread the coals out so that the fire would extinguish faster and put his tools away, before heading into another room, gathering a loaf of bread and a few apples to put into a leather bag. A few days ago he had forged two warhammers, in case he needed them, which he now placed on his belt. With the backpack on him he came back and went outside, followed by Lucia, to mount his miniature horse. They were commonly bred by Dwarves, though much more out of necessity rather than passion for horseback riding. In little time they were on their way to the northern colony...

Syra Kaldrassil

Hooves threw up dirt as a courier rode towards one of the colony's gates, guarded by two Night Elves.
Rather than entering the city, he brought his steed to a hold and asked:
"Greetings! I bring message for The Taciturn. Do you know where to find them?".
After a quick look at each other, one of the guards affirmed: "The Taciturn you say? Of course, though she doesn't reside inside of the colony. Head a couple of minutes into the forest, then call her name and what you inquire. She usually responds.".
Though the suggestion seemed strange, the guards' sober countenance and tone didn't imply deceit, wherefor he acknowleged:
"Thank you.", descending from his horse and placing it at the entrance's side, "Please, would you look after my horse while I'm in the forest?".
"Naturally.", the other guard responded.

Carefully he stepped into the forest, attempting not to make too much noise in fear of unwelcome guests. It was early in the morning, but his senses failed him - his eyes could spot no Night Elf in spite of the bright sky, his nose smelt only flora and his ears heard merely fauna. Slowly he advanced through the forest, heeding to spot her - she who wasn't far and had already heard him, only to be up above in one of the trees around him minutes later, when he had stopped, investigating the wanderer. In doubt about whether this forest contained anything other than wildlife, he was moved to simply stating his concern to the forest:
"Taciturn, are you here?".
Silence echoed, though the guard's advice came into mind, and he added:
"I bear a message from the northern colony for you!", holding out the rolled parchment.
Seconds went by in anticipation until it was met with the sound of someone landing - Syra had jumped down behind him. He quickly turned around in fear, but sighed in relief to see the recipient:
"Thank the divines... Here is your message.", once again holding it out.
Curious about the contents, the Night Elf took and opened it, while the courier wandered off.

Dear Taciturn,

As you may know, over the past year, the northern colony has had several skirmishes with the creatures north of the river in our runs for food and other supplies. Although many have been wounded, we luckily have not suffered any casualties yet and would not like to start. They're dangerous and have the power to completely wipe us out. The northern colony is the city's last defense. We cannot risk angering them any further, but we need the fish from the river and your people need the plant life on the other side. I've been authorized to lead a small team to represent the colonies to make a deal with the creatures and make peace. We have no intention of fighting, but you must come prepared in case things turn for the worse. You were chosen for your skill with bow and arrow, your healing capabilities as well as your support of the western colony. I've also requested for Lucia Empamore for her scouting abilities and the dwarven blacksmith, Yolkiir Mirthas, for his wisdom and expertise. Bring your fastest horse, toughest armor and sharpest blades. Hopefully we won't need them. We begin our mission at sunrise. Be safe.

Sincerely, Lucian Empamore.

A contract with these creatures... Interesting.
It seemed important that she was present on this occasion, so Syra rolled up the parchment and headed for the city. It took a small time until she arrived at the colony's gate, where the courier was not to be seen, and the guards let her pass. Moving past a few houses, she entered the one of Eva - the western colony's leader - only for few minutes, as she didn't feel the need to stay longer and disliked most indoor environments.

Seemingly busy with writing a report, Syra approached her and waited until she finished writing a sentence.
"Hello, Taciturn. I hope you slept well. What may I do for you?", she greeted.
Syra held the message out to Eva, who took and read it.

"I see, you'll be at the northern colony for a while... Thanks for letting me know, I wish you success,", she concluded and returned the message to its owner.
"Thanks.", Syra responded calmly, putting the parchmet in a pocket.
The rare gesture gave Eva a smile, before she let out a silent sigh and continued writing. Now all that was missing was a mount, which Syra was sure to find at the local stable. With a tap on one of the stable boys' shoulders and pointing at the horses, she stated: "I'll take one.".
Caught somewhat off-guard, the boy stuttered: "Uh, sure... just... bring it back, okay?",
to which she responded with a nod. Luckily "The Taciturn" was known throughout the colony, so it was no problem if she wanted something - within certain boundries.

Syra mounted the horse and began trotting to the northern colony - whatever else was needed on the journey could be found in the wilderness.

 

[of Dirt]

"The messages should have been received by now. The requested reinforcements should be here by sundown, sir," Lucian said with a nod to the northern colony's commander, Lance Hallewell. They both sat on their knees across from each other, in the commander's personal tent. A small wooden table sat between them with a copy of the letters that were sent to each of the participants of the mission. No one else accompanied them. Baring the same denim blue eyes, black hair and lean build; even to those who weren't explicitly told Lucia was his sister, upon seeing them beside each other it would have been abundantly clear.

"And if nobody comes?" Lance asked, poorly hiding his frustration.

"My sister will come. We can do it ourselves if it comes to that."

"You still haven't told me what you're going to offer them to make peace."

"We need to find out what they want first."
Lance huffed loudly and turned away for a moment, avoiding eye contact. Lucian kept his eyes on him, as stoic as humanly possible. "And you're just going to give them what they want?"

"We want to make a deal that will be fair and reasonable for both parties."

"Of course you do," Lance replied. The silence that followed was thick, with the sound of each other's breathing very audible. "Although I'm letting you go through with this, I want you to know that I don't like it. The only reason I'm letting you is because, well, there isn't a better idea at the moment. And maybe we'll learn something about those things that could help. However, the reason I want to have this discussion with you is to talk about your…," he paused as he searched his mind for the word. "Your attitude. We're not at home and it's entirely probable that we'll never make it back or even make contact with our homeland until after we're both dead. We're stuck here with hostiles. So, this making peace…garbage? Let's not make it a habit."

"I'm not in the business of trying to make us look weak. I just don't see the logic in continuing to provoke a foe with the capacity to wipe us out."

"Just because we predict that they can doesn't mean they do. Don't make the mistake of overestimating them."

"I think they're very aware. I think they're holding back for a reason and it'd be in our best interest to find out."

"Lucian, you're not an adviser," Lance replied quickly to prevent him from saying anything more. "You're not a scholar, a general or a commander of any kind. You're not a knight." Although Lucian outwardly maintained his stoicism, his teeth grinded hard against each other in response to the last comment. His sister and he came from a highly regarded family where all the men were knights and all the women married knights. They were outcasts in the sense that they largely rejected the traditions of their family and were likewise rejected as a result. This was common knowledge for the humans and Lance was deliberately taking a jab at that fact. "You're a soldier and there isn't room for the likes of those who think they're more important than they actually are. And certainly no room for idealists," Lance added with slightly more disdain than usual. "Do what you have to do tomorrow and report back as soon as possible. Good luck."

Lucian nodded and forced a thank you before he left the tent, internally furious.

**​

"They can speak. My brother and I have scouted them out once before and listened to them," Lucia explained as Yolkiir readied his little horse for travel. "Though… that particular scouting mission was unofficial and a secret, so let's keep that between us," she said casually and with a small laugh. The siblings had a habit of often doing things their own way and never responded particularly well toward authority. "I don't know the details of the meeting myself," she admitted. Naturally, she trusted her brother, but considering that today might've been the first time Yolkiir had even heard of Lucian, she didn't know what to say to him. "We'll take every precaution," she assured.

The pair rode off as the sun quickly set behind them. The guards let them through at the border of the colony and they proceeded through in search of Lucian's tent. Lucia dismounted upon the sight of her brother sitting cross-legged and cross-armed beside a small campfire, his eyes closed. "Asleep on the job?!" Lucia playfully exclaimed with a big smile. Lucian smiled upon hearing the familiar voice before opening his eyes and getting up to approach them.

"Just resting my eyes," Lucian replied, hugging her tight. Months had gone by since they'd seen each other last. He turned to Yolkiir and clapped his shoulder. "Thanks for coming. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Sir Mirthas. I'm Lucian. I've heard only good things about you," he said, motioning toward the tents by the fire. "That one's yours. Let me know if you need anything."

"We don't have ale," he added after a moment, with a chuckle.

The sound of hooves clapping against dirt quickly approached them and they turned to acknowledge the source. An elf on horseback approached them, along with a human, escorting her from the palisades surrounding the colony. Lucian waved them over. "Good to see you, Lady Taciturn. I'm Lucian and this is Yolkiir Mirthas and my sister Lucia," he said as she stopped by where they were camped. "Your tent is over here. I know it was a long journey, so let's get settled in and then we can talk details about tomorrow around the fire."

 

[Wolk]

Yolkiir Mirthas

As Lucia and her brother exchanged words the dwarf dismounted, now being greeted himself. "A colony without ale?! I think I just lost a bet!", Yolkiir exclaimed surprised. For a few seconds he grumbled, before finally acknowledging the greeting: "Ah, I'm happy to meet ye, too.", which he followed up by mumbling: "But where do I now get me some booze?". Just as the midget pondered about possible sources of spirit, Syra Kaldrassil approached the group, towering about twice as tall as Yolkiir on the rather large horse. She was greeted by Lucian and then by Yolkiir, who said: "Greetings, Lady Taciturn.", which the addressed acknowledged with a nod. "Living up to yer name, eh?", the dwarf remarked jokingly as the Elf dismounted, still about a macelength taller than the dwarf. "Ah, well, I shall unpack me bag and return afterwards. Perhaps I'll find some booze.". As announced, he wandered off with his backpack, his horse being taken care of by stable hands. Several campfires along the way devoured the steadily growing darkness to which the setting sun gave way, emitting smoke and the acrid smell of burning wood and roasted flesh, which the men around the fires ate. Arrived in his tent, the dwarf, disappointed by not spotting a keg of ale, began unpacking. At least he had the ground beneath his feet.

Syra Kaldrassil

"I need not unpack.", the Elf answered. Indeed, she did pack very little. With her hand she removed the hair from her face that fell as she dismounted, watching the stable hands, who took her horse, suspectingly. Granted, the smell-burdened air irritated Syra's nose, but she didn't expect a tent to help.