MSNPC Falia - I Come In Peace

[+ Vitor S. Silveira]

I am surprised nobody had already posted this sim here. I have mentioned how @Gnai gave us a grand mission opening with his First MSNPC.

Now gave a look at the Second MSNPC that @Gnai writes and at this scene, and tell me it isn't one of the best sims you have ever read.

If you do, well, its your choice and opinion, because to me, this is AWESOME.

Quote

(( Deep in the jungle, on the outskirts of the city - Lesser Prash, Meirash ))

(( With the Divine Light overhead - 3 Days before Artemis arrives ))

The casting-out glittered before her, a massive, warped thing of dark, charred metal. Thick streaks of black painted the hull, jagged and mean, like some sort of artist had attacked this metal canvas. The thin plume of smoke twisted above her head, pulled along as if by some unseen hand in the breeze. Whatever fire had been there had died away, but some of the forest floor still smoldered.

Cautiously, Falia reached out towards the metal, holding her hand but a scale’s width from the surface. It was still warm, and she rested her hand upon it for a moment, feeling the chill her body had picked up leeching away onto the ship. She’d still worn the night coverings that she had bundled herself in when the Divine Light had dipped below the treeline. As she had pushed her way through the trees, day had crept up behind her, only notable in how the sounds of the jungle around her shifted. Under the canopy, she hidden from the Divine Light’s warmth. No Meirashi in their right mind would travel this far out without adequate means of providing their own warmth. Thank the Empress-Who-Would-Be that she wasn’t in her right mind then. What she had on short notice was just barely enough to fuel her towards the casting-out. She’d needed to stay bundled up, or risk freezing to place, slowly dying as her joints locked and her blood stagnated.

In this makeshift clearing, however, she could finally strip the extra layers off of her, and let the light properly warm her. As soon as she’d seen the glitter of the Divine (for curse it as she may for giving the Rishes their power, she couldn’t deny that it gave her life, rationing out just enough warmth each day for her to survive) fill the space, she’d cast off the second skin of fabrics so that her scales could soak up its blessing. Her simple work clothes would have to do to meet the emissary of her Empress.

The light above and the warmth from this casting-away energized Falia, like she was a young hatchling once again. Her fingers splayed out over the metal, palm pressing flat to the soot that marred its surface, as her other hand joined the first, unable to tear away from the warmth as it soothed her aching joints. She still had dirt caked between her scales, what harm could a little bit of ash do?

A low groan eminated from the metal, and she felt it shudder slowly under her fingers. Falia took a cautious step back, hesitating as if ripping her fingers from the heat was the last thing that she wanted to do, but another, louder rumble spurred her back. Then another shaky step, and another, until she turned from the casting-out and broke into a run, clutching her soiled hands to her chest as something came crashing down behind her.

Falia found herself, moments later, panting slightly as she hid in the shadows of the canopy. Without the layers that kept her warm, her pale scales did little to let her sink away from sight. But that wasn’t why she hissed at herself angrily. The Rishes, may their days be ever cast in shadows, and their insidious propaganda… Why had she succumbed to their fears and fled? This wasn’t some deadly spirit, come to kill them all and cast Meirash into eternal shadow, no matter how many stories they told from high upon their estate walls. No, this was her salvation, and she needed to pull herself together.

Gritting her teeth, Falia forced herself to slink back through the trees to the make-shift clearing. The Divine glittered overhead, winking at her like it was laughing at her foolishness through the dense leaves as the treetops thinned out. The Divine Light could rot, for all she cared, stringing all the Meirashi along and keeping them dependent on its light. The mockery that she felt from it now was just adding further insult.

An acrid smell poured from between the foliage, sour and harsh to her tongue, like that of something dead. Smell like that was dangerous, she knew. Death begat death, and she needed to protect herself. When she was very little, disease had swept through Lesser Prash, and she’d been lucky to survive. The derossh flowers that the local healer had given her kept the disease away, warding off the bad air with their soft scents. They’d protect her here as well, so she grabbed a handful, stuffing them into the front pocket of her top, letting their air overtake her.

As the casting-out revealed itself from behind the trees, she noticed something different. Where she had been standing before, a large piece of the thing now lay, leaned up against the greater body. Thin strands connected it to the rest of the body, like metal sinews. Inside, strange lights flickered on and off, and she could see a constant shower of sparks falling as she got closer.

An inkling of the fear instilled in all Meirashi from their Speaker started to crawl up her throat, choking her as she stared into the darkness of the casting-out. The more she looked, the more it looked like a mouth, a maw stretched open hungrily. Metal things couldn’t live… could they? Was this the spirit her Empress had sent her, some metal beast? Or… was it as the Speaker had said; this casting-out would destroy Meirash as they knew it, devouring them all into its jaws?

No. Her Empress wouldn’t fail her. Leilossh, “his Grace”, lied. He lied and he lied and he lied. But her fear was harder to suppress now, staring into the throat of this metal beast-thing. Her hands shook slightly as she stepped forward, creeping slowly towards it as much as she could muster. Even through the sweet smell of the derossh, that sharp smell of death cut through and landed on her tongue, causing her to gag slightly for just a moment. Falia’s steps faltered, and with trepidation, she reached out once again to touch the very end of the metal jaw, terrified that this once-welcoming thing would suddenly snap its mouth shut, gobbling her whole.

A moment passed, and then another. Nothing happened. Her hands still bled their cold into the metal, and she lived. That made her more daring. She withdrew her hand from the warmth, and then, breath caught in her throat, stepped onto the jaw.

Nothing happened, once again. Falia wiped her hands on her pants, leaving dark streaks across them. As she waited, the rough scales of her foot began to warm as they touched the metal. She took another step. Then another.

Each step was quicker than the last, as her senses returned to her. Leilossh and his stupid oaf of a liege would have seen this, and they couldn’t be far behind. She needed to be gone from here before they arrived. She needed to find the spirit that her Empress had sent her, in spite of her fears.

(( Within the Casting-Out, Lesser Prash, Meirash ))

The sparks singed her shirt as she tried to dodge past them, stinging her scales as they landed on her exposed arms. Another hiss, this time in pain rather than anger, and Falia returned to her task. This hunk of metal twisted in on itself, groaning to itself in low tones as she stalked down passages. Most were dead-ends, strangely enough. The ones that weren’t could barely be described as open, with only small crevices to crawl through. It felt more like a cave, carved out by a fickle stream of water, rather than something carved by hands. Maybe the spirits had control of such things, and that’s why one had been sent to her.

Through the thin crevices, Falia could see similar cavernous rooms, dark and uninviting, illuminated only by flickers of the small, colorful glass she had passed as she entered. A rumbling hum set into her bones. Most of these passages she didn’t try to explore, unwilling to trap herself further in the dark. As she had walked, the air had taken on a distinct chill, and the metal ground stopped providing the heat she craved. If she got stuck somewhere in here… she’d remain there forever, hidden in these dark metal rooms from the light of the Divine.

One of the passages was wedged open by some long bone of metal, forcing it wider than the rest. A faint blue glow that leaked out of the passage had drawn her near, curious as to the cause. The same sickly smell she’d tasted outside was strong here, though, and she felt herself gagging on the air as her tongue flicked out to smell it. With her hand, she brought the makeshift bouquet of derossh flowers to her face, before peering her head through to see.

Inside was the most cavernous room yet, lit entirely by a massive, glowing pillar of light. It pulsed slowly, deliberately, but without any of the warmth that came with the Divine Light. The humming that she had heard as she crept through the ship rose to a peak here, throbbing in her skull. Falia was so enraptured by the sight, entranced by the procession of light and dark, that she almost forgot about the scent. It didn’t forget her, though, as it peeled back the comforting floral scent and brought her back to reality. Her eyes fell to the ground, and she saw bodies. Unmoving, almost like they had been cast to the ground like scrying-bones were, limbs piled unnaturally or dangling over some of the larger plinths that had been arranged encircling the light.

Falia couldn’t force her body through, even as the passage was held wider than most, but she tried. The sharp corners of the metal dug into her scales as she tried to pull her torso through. With a hiss and a low curse, she wrenched herself backwards away from the light, watching a deep green stain start to creep down the front of her top, illuminated by the slim blue sliver that had drawn her there in the first place.

Slightly injured now, she had to be more cautious. A soft patter followed her, as minute droplets of her blood trailed her passage through the casting-out. If she didn’t find the spirit soon, she’d need to leave, before the air infected her wound. Even derossh couldn’t keep the air at bay for long with an open wound.

Her pace slowed, the warmth in her body slowly leaving her as she kept stumbling upon dead ends, or doubling back in the maze. Time was running out.

oO One more passage… then I have to leave. Oo

She turned a corner, looking for any sign of her Empress, any sign of the spirit that would save her and defeat the evil of the Rishes. Anything, anything at all.

???: Response

Someone had said… something. Shouted it, even. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, but that was speech! Falia whipped around, trying to spot whoever it was. They’d come in her final moment, as if this was meant to be. The last sign she needed before she would give up on her faith.

The room she had entered now was cluttered, small metal objects strewn every which way. And in the middle of it, leaning against one of those ever-present plinths, was a spirit. What else could they be, with such smooth skin, not a scale in sight? They were bent over, clutching at their body, hissing like she would when she was in pain. What had injured a spirit?

Falia: ::in the Prash dialect:: Are you the spirit sent by the Empress-Who-Would-Be?

???: Response

They didn’t speak her language, if their frantic shouts were anything to go by. The strange metal object that they waved at her also seemed threatening, and she recoiled from it. Again, an annoying inkling of a thought crawled out of her hindbrain; the spirits of a casting-out spelled destruction did they not? Why did they not understand her, if her Empress had sent them??

Maybe they would understand the Empress’ tongue. What little of it survived had been passed down in small quotes, shared by her parents with her and her with her followers. They had no clue what the words meant, but the Empress had given them a way to identify themselves to her spirits.

Falia: ::trying again, in the words passed down with the Empress’ writings, speaking haltingly:: I… come in… peaccce…?

???: Response

Tags/TBC

Falia
Loyal Follower

as simmed by

Lieutenant JG Gnai
Science Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240102G11