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DMA - B2 - Chapter 51 – Sand sharks and a network
🕑 Added 2024-12-13 14:00:06 +0000 UTCPriam led the group consisting of him, Greg, and Dee through the portal to his home world. He was still filled with anxiety at not having Jace around; his ‘safety net’ as he thought of the man. But that was suppressed by his excitement towards finally visiting his home world. Fernaid. A place that his father had regaled him with stories of.
He stepped through and immediately felt the change. The ambient temperature was perfect. He could see the shimmering lines of heat across the white-stone-floor marketplace. It was a bazaar they had emerged in, with domed buildings that had large spires which he knew acted like a reverse-chimney that would carry wind down the spire, along the water supply that ran underneath the floor, and then up through vents. A simple, efficient, and no-external-energy-required air conditioning system.
Greg cursed as soon as he stepped through, “Bloody hell. This place sucks! It’s so hot.”
“I know! Isn’t it great?” Priam replied as he felt right at home. He could see other Oslia roaming around, and he couldn’t help but wave at a few. They returned the gesture as they went about their business. “And look how friendly everyone is.”
Dee came through last and glanced around, “Interesting. Desert world. Huh.” She looked over at Priam, “So, where do we go next?”
“Let’s ask around!” Priam led the way across the busy marketplace and saw a white-stone building with a series of awnings. There were people walking up to the counter, asking questions, and then departing. That looks like a visitor’s center of some kind. He walked up and joined the queue.
Greg and Dee stood off to the side, and he heard their slight muttering as Greg complained about the heat and Dee complained about the sand getting in her goop. But Priam did not care at all about their banter. He was fully engaged in reveling at the sight of other Oslia. Sure, other races were present given the proximity to The Cosmic Corridor, but he was all-eyes for his kin.
Surprisingly, though, none of them were blue-furred like him. “Where’s all the blue ones?” he asked.
Bloopa tapped on his head under his hat, her symbols translating to him as words. Your fur color is that of the priesthood. All they know from that hue is that you have a high soul energy coefficient, and that you are part of the clergy. Not which deity, or that you are of the Westerfold clan that has been hunted to extinction.
All except for me, Priam thought as the realization that he had kept pushed back hammered him once more. But it’s okay! He thought as he tried to push aside the feelings of loss and longing for something he would never have. I’ll get to Tier 10, go with Jace to these Afterlives, and give my clan the chance to come back.
Soon enough it was his turn at the kiosk, and a brown-furred Oslia stood behind the counter. “Howdy there!” His voice had an accent that Priam couldn’t place.
“Howdy!” he replied, trying to replicate the greeting and accent as best he could. “I need some information.”
“This is the place for that,” the man replied. “So! What you need?”
“How would someone get to Wricen the Indomitable’s city?”
The man clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Well, you’d have to go across the Big Dry – the giant desert separating here and there.”
“Where are we?” Priam asked.
“This is the Eight Corners market town you find yourself in. The god king lives in the city of the gods.”
Priam nodded, “How would I get across the Big Dry?”
“You need to rent a sand shark.” The main pointed to the edge of town, “Head that direction. About a mile past the city walls – just keep following the small river – you’ll reach the Corners Ranch. They can get you set up.” He looked back to Priam, “Anything else, youngin?”
“I’m good! Thank you!”
“Gods bless, priest.”
Priam ran over to Greg and Dee, “We are going to ride sand sharks!”
Both looked at him. “What?” they said in tandem.
“Just follow me.” He began jogging towards the edge of town, excited to see the vast desert landscape he knew was waiting beyond. The whole town was similar in design – round, white stone buildings that reflected the heat away, with the spires sticking up out of the center to catch air to circulate down. The buildings were different sizes, and Priam skidded to a stop a few blocks from the city walls mad of the same material. A temple…
He'd read about them in his dad’s books, and Bloopa had fetched him information, but here, in the flesh, was an honest-to-gods temple. He glanced back to Greg and Dee who had kept up, but Greg was huffing – from heat and exertion, Priam assumed. “You both okay if we check this out real quick?”
“I’m not in a rush,” Greg replied as he put his hands on his knees.
Dee nodded, “I’ll wait outside. Religious places always give me the creeps. Plus, I’ve got these sticky fingers…and pissing off gods by stealing from them is not my idea of a good time.”
Priam went up to the wooden door, knocking a few times before trying to handle. It was open, and he let himself in. Sunlight streamed in through windows high up above so the light was not directly falling on people, but was filling the room with a warm, ambient glow.
There were circular prayer mats set up in the circular temple, and along the wall were various alcoves. In each alcove was a small statuette of the various deities of Fernaid. Priam went to the first alcove and investigated the statue of a muscular, female, Oslia named Rita the Racer. The goddess of speed and races, Priam thought as he recalled the books he studied with his dad and older brother.
“Ah, a fellow brother of the faith,” an older voice said. Priam looked for the source, and saw a deep, blue-furred Oslia approach from a set of curtains next to a set of the alcoves.
“I am Priam,” he replied as he dipped his head and tipped his hat.
“A priest and an Aspirant. The gods have truly smiled upon you, brother.”
“Oh yeah, they have. I grew up in Khrox and this is my first time here. I just had to visit.”
“All are welcome. Please, stay as long as you like. The temple is open all day and night.” The elderly Oslia yawned. “If you need me, please ring that bell. I will be resting, otherwise.” He shuffled off behind the curtain, and Priam walked to the center of the room just reveling in the space.
It didn’t feel quite as right as the desert did, but it still felt good to be here. He didn’t know why though. Grinning from ear to ear, he left and rejoined his allies, heading to go get some sand sharks to cross the Big Dry.
>>>---<<<
Jace stepped through the portal and his eyes immediately adjusted to their purple dark vision mode. “Why is it so dark?” he muttered. There were a few metal, upright poles with large braziers on top that were not lit. The area was empty.
“There is no sun this world revolves around,” Ollie replied. “Well, there is, but a giant, black, nebula cloud blocks it. This is a world of eternal night.”
“Right.” Jace looked around and did not see any signs of movement. “I’m guessing its their time to sleep?”
“Yes. It is their dormant period. You might see some Yittka out and about but those would be the type who are up to no good.”
Jace walked through the large plaza. The buildings were tall; three stories tall and all uniform in their presentation. Just like the corpo housing, Jace thought as he recalled traveling through similarly indistinct and expressionless environments in New York City. “Let’s get some height,” he said as he shot his Ghostlight Grapnel up to one of the buildings and hoisted himself up. Clearing the rooftop, he gasped as he landed.
The plaza he had arrived in seemed purpose-built to be uniform and perfect; but the sprawl he saw before him was far from that. Far off into the horizon were countless buildings of all difference sizes and styles. There was a consistent feature, though; rope nets to form a sort of rooftop highway extended along the tops of streets, and the same weave ran up the sides of buildings at intersections to enable someone to climb up to that upper level.
Ollie poked his head out alongside Jace’s in the hood, “Oh, yeah. The network. Hehe. Clever bit of naming.”
Jace did chuckle slightly and shook his head at the bad pun-based name. “Where do we start?”
Ollie pulled up a map and put it in the usual spot just under Jace’s chin so he could glance down at it with ease and not obstruct his vision. “There are many dormant-time establishments we could visit. Xera has had trouble gathering information here, as they are fairly rustic.”
Jace raised a quizzical brow, “Explain.”
“They did not adopt any type of other world technology. This society is firmly set in their – comparing to Earth eras – early Renaissance.”
“I didn’t really have school, remember? And the corps didn’t teach us about history.”
“Oh. Um. Very basic technology for everyday use. Levers, some springs, block and tackle.”
Jace just blinked dumbly, “Okay…”
Ollie put his paws on his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a groan of frustration. “We really need to get you some type of education.” He pulled his paws away and looked at Jace, “It is not your fault. Xera cannot get much information because very little about this cult is written down.”
“And if it was written, then The Cosmic System could track it?”
“Yup! We will need to portray ourselves – well, you will need to portray yourself – as an Aspirant who really wants to join the cult.”
“I’m infiltrating it to find the leader and their hideouts.”
“Precisely! It will be the fastest way.”
Jace nodded and walked out onto the network spanning above the city street. Thanks to his (Lightfoot) Augmentation, he was barely even causing them to bend downward, thus making travel very easy. At first, he was worried that his foot might slip in between the webbing, but the ropes were wide enough that he could treat it like a slackline and not worry about mixing up his footing.
Fighting up here, if it came to that, would be tricky. It might be worth practicing a bit when I can. Following Ollie’s map, he made it to an intersection and descended one of the nets along the side of a building. Ollie pulled back into his hood, plopping his head on top of Jace’s and shifted to his silvery-outline form that made him very difficult to see.
Scratch’s Hideaway, Jace read as the weird, angular language shifted and translated in his mind. Right. Get into the mindset. You’re Flicker, an Aspirant who is looking to get involved in some underhanded work.
He reached into his (Heavy) Venture Pack and pulled out his lockpick set, making sure the small roll of tools hung from his belt. A small feature, but anyone who knew what they were for would know that he was well equipped. And therefore, give some air of legitimacy to his claims of being as someone who might not make their living in a legal way.
“Start out by trying to be friendly,” Ollie advised. “Just put off the air of someone who is looking for work and is not afraid to get their hands a bit dirty. One piece of intel that Xera did find is that there are different thieves’ guilds, and one of them supports this cult’s activities.”
Just a matter of making my way into the underbelly of the city, making a name for myself by doing some gigs, and then working my way up the ranks until I can find the cult. Jace took a deep breath and put on a stern expression, with just the slightest hint of a mischievous smile, before pushing the door open.
Comments
Brythnoth
This will be fun, thank you for the chapter
Bryan Flynn
TFTC!
