In a world of colossal creatures that rule the natural world through fear and sheer size, the terrains reflected by those creatures are equally colossal and titanic. From deserts that pass the horizons, to mountains that hold up the sky, to terrifying behemoths of wood growing from the ground, the world is extremely large, providing a home to a seemingly-endless army of monsters.
However, in the villages and cities alike, clinging to life in whatever ways they can, stories spread of a legendary human knight who spends his days hunting the most terrifying beings in the world. Some say he has defeated the legendary and terrifying holgamoor. Others claim he has defeated nightenmaels with little more than his blade. And, a few rumors even say he has defeated a dragon.
Those who know the name ‘Murtoa of Lakia’ and those who know the man are often very different people. Murtoa of Lakia is said to wear the purest of holy armor, and brandish a blade of white silver. He fights with so much honor and dignity, it hinders him. And still, he remains victorious. He rescues damsels and children like a harrowing hero, and his moral purity and chivalry dictates that he must reserve himself for only his true love.
The man Murtoa of Lakia truly is wears cobbled together improvised armor, serving function over protection, since his enemies are often vastly more powerful than he would be able to survive if they land a strike. He will utilize every and all strategies he can think of to defeat the monsters he faces; from the most despicable of people to the deadliest of colossi. He will fight dirty if it means victory, and he will attempt to plan far enough ahead that his opponent dies before it realizes it was ever being hunted -if he can-. He often speaks in short sentences, and focuses so obsessively on his mission to destroy all colossi, he often forgets to worry about collateral or his own safety.
As for what aligns with the legends; the legends fall short in many ways, romanticizing into seeming myth what the man has actually accomplished. And, the greater the luster of his own name, the less he broadcasts who he is.
The four friends he has made along his travels in just the last year have joined him in his mission, knowing the honor the man bears far outweighs the honor of a chivalrous knight in ways that are strange, but genuinely valuable to those who have seen them in action.
Lykha, the young fairy, is Murtoa’s first traveling companion, and a novice monster slayer in her own right -a role she never dreamed she would possess-.
Maerin, the more mature fairy whose wish has been spent, serves as the party’s experienced chemist, brewing explosives, chemical attacks, and even tranquilizers to fill many roles.
Coco, the teenage techromancer, is also a novice adventurer, but her natural and refined gift for trial and error with technology lets her operate most equipment they find and even rig her own gadgets and tools.
And, rounding off the party with a second layer of more weathered and worldly experience, is the drakyk spellshot named Gyrryth, who utilizes magic-infused pistols and his Holy Order training to bring wisdom and skill to the party, especially when Murtoa is absent or indisposed.
Murtoa has made it clear that he is not the guardian or parental figure to either of the younger two, but that has never stopped him from protecting them and going somewhat far out of his way to do things for them.
Presently, the five have reached one of the threshold villages perched in the trunks of several of the titanic trees rising up further than even the Great Snails upon which cities are built. The sand cruiser that has been their mobile base and mode of travel across the desolate sands of the desert has carried them just about as far as it possibly can. Its broad wing frame used for softening its fall after jumping sand dunes, as well as its solar panels, will severely limit them in the natural gem of nature known as the Grand Forest of Zylodend. The thickness of the forest blocks most of the sunlight from ever reaching the ground, and the broad wings of the sand cruiser will prevent it from passing between parts of the trees.
Fortunately, the sand cruiser -well outfitted and moderately well-cared for- is rather valuable thanks to the Murtoa of Lakia imposter from whom it was inherited by the genuine bearer of the name. As such, it is valuable enough to trade for one of the forest-unique trunk winders. These segmented, tracked vehicles are adept at navigating the thick forest by weaving between the trunks, crawling over the large, knobbly roots, and when all else fails, has equipment for ascending and descending the trunks of the massive trees. While it doesn’t have a lot in the way of preventing falls, the vehicle is a good complement for the group to travel through the forest.
Since technically, the sand cruiser and one of the ill-fated sand rails they had belong to Coco, the teen is the one who makes up the difference in price with her most recent reward, but with the understanding that the trunk winder will belong to her, and the others will pay to stock up on supplies.
With minimal sunlight, however, the trunk winder has to draw power from somewhere else. Thankfully, the design of the trunk winder allows it to have a power plant consisting of a wood-burning boiler and a steam engine; water and wood obviously being quite plentiful. It’s a little more work to fuel, clean, and maintain, but it works.
Coco nervously finishes the trade with the vehicle dealer, mindful of the protrusions from her head that are mostly hidden by her hair -for now-.
Lykha watches admirably as the teen tempers her more… worldly way of speaking to complete the deal, while Murtoa and Gyrryth move everything over. The trunk winder will be their new home, for all intents and purposes, and so they don’t want to leave anything behind.
Maerin, the least physically capable, is laying across Mury’s shoulder, taking inventory of everything they’re moving over. Her job when on mission requires ingredients, and since everything is being dug out of various storage places, it’s as good a time as any to make sure she has mental stock of what’s at her disposal, including the supplies left over when they commandeered the sand cruiser.
Coco shakes hands with the dealer, saying uncharacteristically sweetly, “Thank you, Mistah!”
“Drive careful now, little lady.”
“Will do!”
She jogs back towards the group, though Lykha notices the dealer peer at the teen a little skeptically.
Did he notice?
Lykha has noticed that Coco’s horns -a telltale sign and virtually the only giveaway of her being a descendant of inhabitants of the deep south- are becoming more visible, even under her hair. The other four have convinced her to stop filing down her horns, but not everyone in the world is ready to accept her fully.
Coco slows down, saying to Lykha, “Slick blink o’good fortune, tha’, ey?”
Lykha nods, saying warmly and sincerely, “Thanks to your hard work, keeping it in good condition, no doubt.”
The teen waves her hand dismissively, “Bah, don’ be tryin’ to slick me, Tricksie. Flattergab nay foolin’ me.”
Mury asks as they get close, “Trade done?”
Coco nods affirmatively, “Aye! Even gettin’ cruncha fixin’ tools in’ne bargain! Be fun wrenchin’ a new ‘rizon chaseuh!”
The human warrior nods, “Good work, Coco. We’ll be counting on you.”
She blushes, squirming cutely. “Thanks, Love. I won’ let ye down.”
Lykha puts her fists on her hips, smirking at the teen. “‘Not foolin’ you’, huh?”
Coco points, “Ey! ‘Bando gabbin’ straight yeps!”
“I did, too!”
“Aye! But, can’ye blame a machen for not concessioning to ‘er rival?”
Gyrryth states warmly, “‘Conceding’, Fiery One.”
“Aye! That one!”
The others chuckle, and Mury takes a momentary pause from transferring tools and equipment to retrieve something. He approaches Coco, offering her an object.
While simple in design, it’s no less symbolic of Mury’s unending attention to detail.
What he presents to Coco is a simple sun helmet; a hardened hat with a broad, down-curved brim. While it might have been more suitable to the desert, it actually has a quickly apparent purpose to the teen now. She squeaks, “For me?”
Mury nods. He states casually, “It’ll protect your head from falling seeds and sticks. Also, when we encounter people…”
“It’ll hide my horns…” Coco’s voice is soft.
He nods once, seemingly more sensitive to the subject.
Coco grins, though, instantly putting the helmet on. “‘S perfect, Love!” She hugs him, adding warmly, “Mighty sexy for a mighty fine machen, aye, Love?”
Murtoa nods. “Looks good.”
Lykha agrees tenderly, “It truly does. Plus…” The young fairy grins. “It means you actually pose a challenge to me.”
The teen scoffs arrogantly, “Pah! Ye a daf’ tricksie if ye brainin’ me at a dis’vantage.”
Maerin, still laying across Murtoa’s shoulder, teases, “So, Coco; any luck findin’ the gate to this wall?” The mature fairy waves her hand at the forest looming over them.
Coco stamps her feet, accusing, “This obviously some baffle trick’o’mind boggle. Got me thinkin’ blob siclonin’.”
Maerin and Lykha laugh, while Gyrryth chuckles. Murtoa asks Gyrryth, “Remember your first time in the forest, Gyrryth?”
The lizardman chuckles, “Indeed, Sir Murtoa. Never forget the sounds. And the smells. And the humidity…”
Coco retorts sassily, “This but a ugly cave’o’tricks. Don’ know what game ye goobs spittin’, but le’s go. An’ when we hit’e big brickstack, don’ nobody laugh at Coco e’er again! Ha! Ha! Ha!” The teen boards the trunk winder, and Murtoa says, “Do your pre-op checks only. We’re still transferring equipment.”
The teen shouts from inside, “Don’ keep a machen waitin’!”
As the teen works her way forward in the long, slender vehicle, Maerin muses, “I think she’s excited.”
Lykha confirms, “She’s definitely excited. She’s just afraid we’ll tease her some more.”
The teen’s voice shouts, “I heard that, Bae!” She rants in rather unintelligible Coconese as the lights suddenly power on.
Lykha snickers, and Murtoa and Gyrryth resume moving the remaining gear and equipment. Lykha looks out across the forest threshold with a sincere reverence, as well as a profound feeling of smallness -and she’s a fairy-. She knows a thing or two about smallness.
When the pirates first captured her so shortly after leaving her village, Lykha never dreamed she’d even see the forest again, let alone her village. Her heart is racing excitedly, but she must temper herself. As they all discussed, there’s still a ways to go, and Lykha comes from the safest part of the forest; one of the fairy villages high above all of the dangers of the world. So, that presents an issue she may not yet have appreciation for, since she simply flew down the trunk of the tree. She never really realized how far it was.
She also has come to a decision.
“Mury?”
The warrior nods at her, carrying one end of a crate with the drakyk spellshot on the other end.
“I… I think… I want to help the spirits.”
He nods, “If that’s what you want.”
She fidgets with her hands, asking cautiously as she hovers near him, “How do I do it and protect myself, though?”
“Same thing as you did with Nieolsynnys. Form a contract. Though you didn’t realize it, you have to set the terms and accept.”
Gyrryth confirms, “Agreed. The spirit-amplified spells are, in essence, a brief contract.”
“Really? What do they get in return?” asks the young fairy sincerely.
Gyrryth frowns, deliberating. While he ponders the question, Murtoa states, “If you can speak to them, it’s best to be direct with them. I think they’ll listen. And, if you don’t like it, don’t agree.”
Lykha nods attentively, glancing at Gyrryth as he sincerely tries to think of what the spirits recieve when casters call upon them for aid.
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Maerin remarks, “Could be why the spirits hate most casters.”
Gyrryth nods, realizing that makes sense.
The vehicle rumbles briefly as some part of the power plant seems to activate momentarily. Coco shouts from deep within the vehicle, “Oi! Wha’cha think ye’are, ey?” She storms back to the back, stating sourly, “We been fleeked! Runnah ain’t got a sip’o’juice!”
Just before she storms towards the dealer, Mury catches her gently. “It’s not battery powered.”
“Eh?”
He explains, “The boilers need lit and fueled.”
“Aye! Bu’ a new runnah should be juiced and hummin’, should’ne?”
Mury chuckles, “It is. It needs a fire to work.” He says to Gyrryth, “I’ll go light the boilers.”
Maerin explains as Mury leads Coco back into the vehicle, “I have everything else written down, so just get it moved over wherever.”
Gyrryth nods, “I shall make it so.”
Lykha finds herself following the other three, and Mury stops about midway in the long vehicle. He opens a metal hatch with a window on it low on the wall, and inside is a stack of wooden logs and sticks. He checks a level gauge above the door, saying, “Water level, fuel.” He looks behind him, studying a gauge. “Aux power for the recycler. Scrubber looks clean…”
Coco accuses, “Ye gabbin’ around me ears, Love.”
“I’ll explain better later. These are the main things.” He crouches back down, withdrawing his flint. He takes a bundle of leaves from a bucket nearby, and he piles them under some of the sticks. He begins striking his flint, failing to get sparks the first few tries.
Lykha asks, “Why not use the batteries, like the cruiser and the sand rails? I get no solar, but something is generating power, isn’t it?”
Mury nods. “There’s a turbine among the equipment. It generates power from the steam. Because wood and other fuels are so abundant here, it’s more practical.” He adds distantly as he strikes again, getting a small smolder from one of the streams of sparks that reaches the leaves, “Also, the smoke serves a purpose.”
Lykha crosses her arms, asking skeptically, “It keeps monsters away, doesn’t it?”
Murtoa nods. “Most of them, anyway.” He fans the small smolder, growing it into a growing ember. It fades, however, and Coco says, “Ey! Perfect time for my flamesie!” She digs something out of her gear bag. It matches many of the obvious design characteristics of the device Mury asked for after the fight with the silveryourds; a small igniter. She offers it to Lykha, teasing, “Try ‘at, Tricksie. ‘Nother Coco mastahwork.” The teen stands proudly.
Lykha holds the device. If she were the size of a human, it would be like holding a guitar, or carrying a small step ladder. And, true to Mury’s wishes, the trigger is easy to operate for both tiny hands and big fingers.
She pulls the trigger in, and a spark buzzes continuously. She holds it in the kindling of the fire, and it begins to smoke and burn quickly. Mury ensures the fire takes off this time, and he closes the hatch once the fire is stable.
He stands up, checking some of the gauges. “It’ll take a minute before it’s ready to start.”
Maerin remarks as she lays over Mury’s shoulder with her hand on her chin and her elbow on his shoulder, “Seems like a lot more work to start up.”
Murtoa nods. “It is. But, if we’re mindful about how we drive it, it can feed itself as we drive, meaning it can run almost indefinitely.”
Lykha asks curiously, “How do you know so much about these vehicles, but not the desert vehicles?”
“The equipment we used to move cannons in the army was similar.”
“Ooo! Story time! Story time!” cheers Maerin.
Murtoa chuckles, “Not this time. Not much to tell.” He points at one of the gauges. “Coco, when the needle gets here, you should be able to power up the generators. There should be an identical gauge in the cockpit.”
She nods, “Aye, Love!”
“I’ll go help Gyrryth finish.” Mury returns to the back, and Lykha hovers near Coco, watching as the teen studies the gauges.
The young fairy hands the ‘flamesie’ back to Coco, and the teen changes the battery before putting it into her bag. Lykha remarks, “That worked pretty good, Coco. Good job.”
Coco nods confidently, “‘Course! ‘Bando requested it.”
Lykha smiles, adding, “Kinda reminds me of your shocker.”
“Sim’lar. But’, longa hotta juice string.”
“I see.”
Coco makes some adjustments, studying the equipment behind her and pushing some buttons. The young fairy asks, “Do… you know how to run it now?”
“Nay bu’ a turner. Jus’ gotta figure it out.” She winks at Lykha, and whether intentional or not, Lykha can’t help but remember the pump house so long ago, where she watched the teen operate an electrical panel with seeming wanton abandon.
That said, Coco adds, “Can’ne say I’ve seen a runna with so many movin’ tumbles, though.”
Lykha looks in the window of the boiler. “I wonder what happens when the fire goes out.”
Coco takes a look as well, seemingly studying parts of the vehicle. She looks forward of the boiler, and starts turning switches on the piece of equipment there. The machine coughs to life, and something like a conveyor starts rolling. Lykha can hear what sounds like debris falling inside the machine.
Coco nods, “Aye, I hear. I hear. You ain’t keepin’ no whispies from me.”
“What is it?” asks Lykha.
Coco replies as she opens a chute to peek inside the conveyor machine, “Juiceuh, methinks. Dump us some barks and burns in here, an’ we lightin’ pretty.” She grins at the fairy, and Lykha smiles warmly in return.
The teen glances at the gauge Mury instructed her to watch, and she says, “Oh! Time to juice and scramble!” She jogs forward, and Lykha hovers after her.
The cockpit has seating for four, though in four separate seats with one to a corner, effectively. It doesn’t have the dark windshield the sand cruiser had, and instead, has heavy iron bars over the windshield. Coco takes the seat in front of the steering mechanism, which is a pair of sliding throttle bars and foot pedals. She finds the gauge that matches the one in the back, saying, “Aye, aye, here we go.” She activates a switch that causes the trunk winder to rumble again, and it hums to life. The vehicle idling is more noisy than the sand cruiser, with a low level continuous noise of air or steam rushing, water dripping like rain, and some kind of rumbling from below the cockpit.
Coco laughs giddily, “Ooo! Gives me a tickle in the seat cushion!” Lykha takes a seat next to the teen, and sure enough, the trembling translates through the seat, though it’s more pronounced on the much smaller and lighter fairy.
Coco suddenly shouts over her shoulder, “OI! YOU LOT DONE BACK THERE!?”
No answer comes right away, and she yells again. Still no response, which prompts the teen to jump up, grumbling, “Goobin’ aroun’ when we got a new toy. No sense.”
Lykha chuckles, following the teen. “They are moving all of our equipment over.”
“Bah! No ‘scuse!” She marches into the cargo bay, where Murtoa and Gyrryth seem to be talking. Just before Coco can fully assume a sassy posture and tone, Murtoa states, “Sounds good. Good work, Coco.”
The teen instantly softens, replying warmly, “Aye, Love. Ready to test goin’ power.”
Murtoa nods. “Good. Before that, though, take a walk through the cruiser. Make sure we didn’t miss anything. Make sure you have all the tools you need.”
She walks past him, waving her hand dismissively, “Aye, me turners are important.” She remarks to Lykha, “Hard bein’ party leader, ey? Givin’ me all this ‘sponsibilities.”
Lykha chuckles, “I wouldn’t know, and I’m glad of it.”
Coco scoffs. She does a pass through and around the sand cruiser, pocketing a misplaced wrench that she finds, as well as instinctively wiping an oil stain off of one of the inner surfaces.
As they’re circling back to the group, however, a distant wail rises from the forest. All five of them listen to it.
Maerin makes the obvious statement, “Well if that ain’t foreboding as hell…”
Gyrryth chuckles, remarking, “There is no known land in the world free of colossi.”
Murtoa counters, “There are. Doesn’t make those places any safer.”
Lykha asks nervously, “Mury…?”
He says confidently, “It’s not a dragon.”
She smiles sheepishly, nodding.
Coco puts her fists on her hips, “Whateva monsty it be, we stop its tocker if it daft ‘nuff to tangle teeth with us.”
A chirp comes from the top of the trunk winder just above the cargo bay ramp, and Coco falls as she flinches away from it. Lykha recoils as well, but everyone looks.
A rather small creature is sitting on the top of the vehicle, with feathery wings, long, skinny feet with pointed toes, and a semi-rounded beak.
Lykha recognizes it as a mollytross; a river bird. Coco asks, “What goob monsty is this?”
The younger fairy replies gently, “It’s a mollytross. It’s just a bird.”
“Baby nightmeal that is,” retorts the teen cautiously as she climbs to her feet with Gyrryth’s hand.
Murtoa corrects plainly, “Nightenmael. And no. Mollytrosses are considered good luck.”
Lykha asks, “Really?”
Gyrryth nods in agreement, “Indeed. Gentle river fishers. They like the cooling in vehicles.”
Maerin retorts, now sitting up on Murtoa’s shoulder, “Flyin’ rats, more like. Eat everything in the darn stores if we don’t keep ‘em away.”
Murtoa looks at it one last time, and then walks into the cargo bay of the trunk winder, “Let it try. Never met a bird that isn’t edible.”
Coco and Lykha both gasp, and Maerin bursts into laughter. Lykha accuses, “That’s something I’d expect Gyrryth to say! No offense, Gyrryth.”
“None taken. Sir Murtoa beat me to it.” He grins.
“How is that how you’d both treat a supposed good luck charm?”
The unconventional knight says over his shoulder, “Not starving to death seems pretty lucky to me.”
Gyrryth nods, and Maerin continues laughing. Lykha and Coco look at each other in disbelief. The young fairy says, “I shouldn’t be shocked, should I?”
The teen retorts, “I can’ne believe he’d let it gobble our munchin’s first!”
Maerin calls back as Mury makes his way forward, “Ey! Coco! Catch it real quick and we can grill it for breakfast tomorrow!”
“I’m no’ gettin’ one toe near tha’ dumbeye needlenose. Loo’at them soul-missin’ seers.” Coco makes faces at the bird, but it simply cocks its head, chirping. Mollytrosses aren’t known among the fairies for being particularly bright, so she can see where the teen is coming from. The bird fluffs its feathers with a quick shake, which briefly startles Coco, and she huffs, marching back into the vehicle. She grumbles, “I go’ first nibble eatin’ Needlenose, he gets in here.” She taunts the bird, “You hear ‘at, Needlenose? I be first to sizzle you up!”
The mollytross ignores her, and Gyrryth smiles at Lykha, boarding the vehicle.
The young fairy takes one last look out over the desert, still visible beyond just a couple of the colossal trees. She smiles as she prepares to start the next part of her journey. And, the realization comes to her; will anyone believe the stories she has to tell now? A fairy that was as old as Lykha is now, Rylinair, fell in love with a human, and the other fairies couldn’t believe it.
Lykha is travelling with Murtoa of Lakia.
********************************
Coco only stops the trunk winder because both Murtoa and Gyrryth tell her to. She asks, “Wha’? ‘S flat ahead.”
No one pokes fun this time. Coco has been in good spirits exploring a completely alien part of the world to her, and she takes it in stride every time she learns of a new thing.
She’s never seen a body of water that wasn’t an oasis pond or lagoon. She’s never seen the blanket that leaves can make, because she’s never seen enough of them. And, she’s certainly never seen a moving force of nature reaching both directions beyond the horizon.
Just ahead of the caterpillar-like trunk winder they’re driving is a grand river, slowly crawling through the forest to and from places unknown to most.
Gyrryth is the one to address her question. “We have reached a river.”
Maerin shudders, replying, “I had forgotten the notion of bathing every day.”
“River?” asks Coco innocently, starting to worry that everyone else seems to know far more words than she’s ever heard, and may ever know.
Mury explains, “Long moving oasis.”
“Tha’s water!?” asks the teen.
Mury nods, and Lykha asks, “How do you think the trees get so big?”
The techromancer retorts, “Boggle tricks, Tricksie. Boggle tricks.”
“Every one of these trees are real, Coco.”
“So gabbin’ the trickspitter. You bogglejacked by another fake you, ey?”
Maerin puts her chin on her hand with a smirk. “You have like eight different words for everything you say.”
Gyrryth teases lightly, “You may well be an expert, Mature One. You adopt similar terminology when you are comfortably inebriated.”
Maerin grins, shrugging. “You got me.”
Coco climbs out of the driver’s seat, saying, “I have to see this. On’y so many boggles a machen can take.”
Murtoa climbs to his feet, saying, “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
He walks after her, and Lykha hovers with him.
Coco recoils as soon as she steps down the ramp. “Wh-Wha’s this!?”
Lykha chuckles, replying, “Humidity? Little different than the desert, huh?”
“This place is a goobswoggle o’ spit!”
Murtoa says logically, “We’ll need to be more mindful of keeping ourselves and food stores clean.”
Coco studies the river in wonder, murmuring, “This water never stops?”
Lykha nods, “Mm-hmm. It has for centuries, and no signs of slowing down. We call it the tears of Merzianne.” Lykha smiles, now fully realizing where that name comes from.
Coco scoops some of the water into her hand, and Murtoa says bluntly, “Don’t drink that.”
Coco looks at him in surprise, and he explains, “Slow moving water like this in the heat and humidity needs to be boiled first. It can make you sick.”
Lykha nods, “There are better sources of water in the forest, but if we’re dying, it’s still an option, isn’t it?”
Murtoa nods. “We’re not in danger, so we’ll refill the tanks on the winder and let the distiller do its job.”
“Nex’ you’ll be tellin’ me gleddy honey be drippin’ out the rocks.” Coco points at one of the nearby large boulders for emphasis.
“I’m afraid not. But, it’s a lot more common here than the desert.”
Coco’s expression goes blank, and she stands up, letting the water fall from her hand. She says in a level tone, “I’m nevah leavin’.”
Lykha laughs, and Mury chuckles. However, their next real challenge is just in store.
Mury states, “Since we’re at the river, we can cycle the stored water and wash ourselves down real good.”
Lykha nods enthusiastically, but Coco stares at him. She asks, “You gabbin’ goob what?”
The young fairy looks at her teenage companion, surprised that Coco seems surprised.
But then, water was a bit of a luxury in the desert, and cleanliness was much less of a priority.
And, the more she observes Coco, the more Lykha begins to think.
Coco isn’t particularly excited about the thought.
*************************************