POV- Voice of the Precursors
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“Humans,” Essenya muttered, annoyed. “Contending against humans.” The varasay shook her head, annoyed as she found herself feeling more and more these days.
“How did it all go so wrong?” She sighed before shaking her head.
No. I know how.
They’d lost. The Sensen had activated that abominable machine, and everything had fallen apart.
Stupid. Stupid plan.
She had told them it wouldn’t work, that trying to rely on skip-drive ships to reach the Sensen galaxy's core would never work, that it would be a hive of death.
But no one had listened. Not even the most extraordinary mind amongst them, Ackaestar, had listened to her. She’d been in headquarters, watching the futility of their last-ditch effort fail.
And now she was in a new universe because they had failed. Everything they had built, every ethos they stood for, ground into the dust that now formed the pillars of this new reality.
“If it hadn’t been for those stupid, awful, bumbling humans.” Essenya kicked a log, anger welling up. “We wouldn’t have gone with such a foolish plan.”
Humans had just so happened to be the only race who could withstand the theoretical extremes of the skip-drive ships, and thus, once they’d discovered them, it had been like a gift from beyond, a chance to win.
But it had been foolish. They would have never bothered with such a stupid plan if they had never tried relying on humans.
After a moment, Essenya’s anger redoubled as her foot began to throb, the impact of striking the log echoing through her entire leg.
“Damnit!” She cursed, a boom blasting out from her throat as it exploded a tree before her. Her kin had always had the ability to propel and amplify their voices; their hollow bones acted as an acoustic booster, and the effects of ascension had only boosted their potency.
And it was a good thing, too; this planet was a hellhole. Even the damn rabbits, fauna from Earth of all places, were savage beasts that shattered bones with ease.
Essenya glanced down at her body. It had been reinforced through ascension, but even as what would have been a genetic freak of nature, a god amongst her people, she was still less physically robust than a human. The gravity of their planet was a crushing force that most intelligent life in their old universe couldn’t withstand for more than a few hours, maybe days, but those freaks could take it endlessly.
She recalled her first day on Aelia, the crushing agony her body felt as she was forced to stagger and crawl like a newborn child. Meanwhile, humans would be running and jumping unphased.
Damn them.
Essenya shouldn’t feel the anger she did toward humans; it wasn’t as if they were the ones who had pulled the trigger on their universe. But with no Sensen left, Essenya could feel that helpless anger at their loss redirected elsewhere, toward the pale freaks.
Thinking about it, Essenya scowled. She couldn’t even justify her calling them freaks; humans were, physically speaking, similar in appearance to her race. Where she had light-pink-colored skin, they were tan. Where she had hollow bones, they had dense, solid bones. Where she had silver hair, they had a multitude of colors. Similar heights and physiques -if only skin deep- they were perhaps the most similar races, aside from the short Daeshi such as Ackaestar, who was even paler than humans and far shorter than the varasay and humans alike, comparable in stature to an osferian. Humans weren’t that different from her.
No, they weren’t the true source of her broiling emotions. Sure, she had some misplaced animosity, but her underlying discomfort was that she was alone—not just literally, but as a race. The world spirit had told her that on her surface, there were five humans, two osferians, and then her, the lone varasay.
“Come,” Essenya spoke as the kernel of loneliness threatened to bloom. No matter what she had been told about no longer having to fear the threat of isolation-based insanity, it didn’t change how there was a discomfort that ran deeper than the simple physiological need that existed in most social species.
Several seconds after her command, a rustling came from nearby. A creature appeared lumbering low to the ground, a six-legged lizard, ridges of sharp chitinous plating covering its body.
Seeing the creature, Essenya smiled. She was the Voice of the Precursors and brought forth the commands of those who came before.
Words of Power
Rarity: Rare. Skill Level: Low.
Where your voice is heard, the world trembles. Words of Power give birth to magic through your voice alone.
Known Words: Command, Burst
It was perhaps her most important skill. Without the baseline physical characteristics of a sturdy human, attempting to put herself, her flesh and blood, against the horrors of this world would have left her on death’s door with every encounter, if not worse. Currently, she only had two ‘words,’ her first word being command, which temporarily allowed her to take control of those she viewed beneath her. It was a temporary but effective tool on its own, but she’d rather quickly earned a second skill to pair it with.
Master of Beasts
Rarity: Uncommon. Skill Level: Low.
Even wild beasts may be brought to heel. Allows wild monster taming, training, and control when subdued and infused with a spark of vitality. Greater control and quantity of monsters controlled may be achieved with practice. Monsters may be active, inactive, or released. Active monsters may be directly controlled; inactive are bound to your essence but otherwise unrestricted, and released monsters are wholly removed from your ability to control.
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“Come here, Eidos.” Essenya knelt as the lizard monster approached, letting her scratch its head. For now, she could only have three monsters, one active and two inactive, and she’d swap between the three as needed, as long as they were lower level than herself. Essenya was a tier five, level fifty-one. On the other hand, Eidos was just beneath her, sitting at tier four, level forty-nine. Of the monsters she had ‘tamed,’ Eidos was the strongest she could call upon. The two of them together were capable of even battling a level fifty or fifty-one monster. Eidos would take to the front, engaging directly, whereas Essenya would support from the rear, where the second word of her words of power came into play. Burst was her ordinary acoustic projection magnified, a sonic burst that could shatter even trees.
Together, they made a formidable team as they wandered the red grass savannah and lowland jungle of their unknown home. Together, they would make the strides needed to bring back to life the old sparks of a now-dead universe.
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P.O.V- Mumford ‘Raving Badger’ Garfunk- The Woodsman
“C’mere ya,’ nasty lil’ biter of an ole’ bitch tits!” Snarled a short, furry-looking creature, his body tense as he waited for his opponent to strike. “I know ya’ want a beak full ya’ piece of shit!”
As if agitated by the copious insults hurled its way, suddenly, from the darker depths just beyond the coral flats, a thing shot out like an arrow from a bow. In the blink of an eye, it had latched onto its fur-covered insulter, tentacles wrapping around his face.
“Oye ya’ slimy fuck!” The short furry creature snarled as he began to tear into the slimy sea creature, paws clad with coral claw caps. “Some uncooked calamari aren’t getting the best o’ me, or my name ain’t the Mumford the Raving Badger!”
Cloral-capped claws shredded into the slimy beast. Only seconds later was it reduced to shredded tentacle flesh, flung behind him to join a rather large pile.
“Yeah, get fucked.” Mumford ‘Badger’ Garfunk cackled. It wasn’t his first time dealing with the Coral Flat Man-o-War, tentacled swarm monsters that would launch themselves out from the depths like a rocket, propelling themselves with sacs full of pressurized water. Glomping onto prey together, their barbed tentacles would begin pumping a paralyzing toxin within. It just so happened that Badger owned a rather thick coat of fur, making such attempts fruitless.
And it was a good thing, too; Badger had seen the little bastards take down a tier five, level fifty-three Ephantus Sea Trawler.
But then, the Ephantus Sea Trawler wasn’t God damn Mumford ‘Raving Badger’ Garfunk, now, was it?
Lips turning up into the approximation of a human smirk, an expression Badger had taken to imitating, he quickly snatched one of the slimy chunks from his pile, taking a bite.
“Still tastes bad as it looks.” He snorted, a memory playing through his mind.
“Hey, ya oversized raccoon, the boys said they got a ‘meal’ for us to show their appreciation.”
“Any chance I can rain-check that shit?” Badger asked, snorting.
“Negative, its tradition, the commanding officer gets treated by their trainees at the end of their training.”
“Well, send me down a shit river on a Tuesday; guess I ain’t got no choice,” Badger grunted, never quite able to entirely hide the mirth in his eyes.
“Ah fuck me, reminiscing and shit,” Bader said as he tore out another chunk from the squishy flesh. “But damn if I don’t miss ‘em.”
As for who he missed? Well, humans, obviously. For the longest time, osferians had been known as the wrecking balls of the universe: their home planet had the highest gravity and was considered the most hostile.
That was all before humans had been discovered, living on a planet that was considered the theoretical gravitational limit for what intelligent life could spring up on. And God damn, was Badger happy for that. In their ‘enlightened universe, polite conversations were matched with political backstabbing, and the Osferians had never been great at either. Badger himself was considered one of the more… cantankerous of his people, putting him as an outlier amongst outliers.
And then they’d met humans, the beautiful bastards. They could talk nice, and at first, Badger had been afraid they were just another one of the many two-faced, ninny-mouthed, bitch blooded yappers he’d come to expect. That said, they had a uniquely strong physique, and thus, they were brought into the fold. Badger had been tasked with training the men and women who would become the crew of the hope of their universe, the experimental ricochet ships.
Overseeing the training of their soldiers, Badger had been delighted to see that once you took humans away from the bullshit that was meetings and other annoying shit -he had little time for that- humans were as much of the bad-tempered, snappish, churlish, and belligerent fuckers that he was.
They may not have been his kind, but they were his kin. Blood or not, race be damned.
“Muck this.” Badger tossed aside the fishy flesh after a final bite. It tasted like shit, and he’d had more than his fill already. Pulling up his interface, a screen that reminded him of some of the visual interfaces of the old armada, Badger scowled or did his best impression of a scowl.
Woodsman’s Stomach
Rarity: Rare. Skill Level: Low.
A true woodsman can stomach anything, and you are no exception. Whatever you eat grants you a small degree of affinity toward the predominant affinity type. After crossing affinity thresholds, accumulated affinity may be used to acquire an affinity type or enhance matching skills.
“Damn, if I know what any of this means,” Badger grumbled. He’d had the skill for some time now, allowing him to eat basically anything, but it didn’t make them taste any better. He doubted he could stomach it if it weren’t for his experience eating whatever plague bombs his trainees had made him. That wasn’t the only reason he scowled as he looked at the skill.
Woodsman. What a damn joke.
When Badger had first awoken on the strange planet, he’d found himself in the tangle of a mangrove patch, water sloshing around his ankles. It didn’t take long to realize he’d ended up in a massive coral flat, islands made of coral that were only a foot beneath the surface. Occasionally, you’d find mangrove trees growing, maybe even a sandbar, but he was always in the water outside of those.
Which was what made the Vocation he’d gained so damn stupid.
A woodsman? In the middle of an endless ocean?
How the fuck did that happen?
If he were the type to get hung up on fancy-sounding names, he’d also be annoyed over how, of all the fancy-sounding titles he’d heard about the other seven founders, he was the only one who’d received something as simple as “Woodsman.”
But he wasn’t, so he focused more on making the best of his misplaced Vocation and achieving his goal.
As for the nature of that goal? It wasn’t to bring back their old civilization, that ship had sailed, nor was it to meet up with the other Osferian on the planet. No, Badger wanted to meet a single person on the planet.
The Spear.
A faux grin plastered itself across his face as he thought about it.
My gut says you’re one of my people, and my gut ain’t ever been wrong.
Whether they were literally one of his people or just someone he knew was on his wavelength didn’t matter. The way he’d heard about this “Spear” made him all the more certain that was where he wanted to be.
“Fuck all the complicated shit.” Badger slashed downward, striking a fish zipping by as he tore a bite out of its head.
However, there were three problems in the way of his goal.
1. Geography. Each founder had been placed on a separate continent based on what the World Spirit Aelia had told him. Not just that, he estimated that the ‘planet’ they were on was at least as large as some stars. At max speed, he could cover around fifteen hundred miles a day. Compared to stars which could have circumferences millions of miles on the small end, well, fifteen hundred miles a day was worth its weight in piss, which was to say not at all.
2. Direction. Vast distances separated them, and he had no way of knowing which direction to take to find the Spear.
3. Monsters. Having decided not to settle down with some shitty ‘Settlement,’ Badger had found that monsters seemed to have taken a more aggressive attitude toward him, perhaps as punishment for refusing to settle down. Didn’t matter; Badger wasn’t much for thinking up explanations for each shitty little detail.
All that said, his only option was to continue to grow stronger.
Not that I mind.
The higher his ascension, the easier it would be to travel vast distances. From there, he could leave these god-forsaken coral flats and find this ‘Spear’ person. He'd work with them if they were strong enough; life would be more exciting that way.
And if they weren’t?
“I’ll do what I’ve always done,” Badger snickered. “And I’ll beat them until they are.”