This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2024-10-31 22:15:58+00:00.

First

Weight of Dynasty

As a trade world Soben’Ryd has a very active orbital region. There are numerous areas with micro-gravity parking and just general places where ships can be tethered to hang and fall forever after a world always moving away fast enough to stay away. But without air there’s no real sensation of movement, and only micro-meteors and comets smaller than drops of dew to wear and tear at the ships.

Ironically in space, space does have a premium to it. You don’t really run out, there’s so much space between worlds and stars that storage is never a problem. But the good space? The places that are convenient and desired? To say nothing of spaces with a view of nearby moons, worlds or stars. Those spaces go for a premium and are highly valuable.

Which is why a lot owner was glad to get rid of those old ships. Honestly she had been contemplating selling them for scrap value. And while the sale wouldn’t compensate for the sheer loss of revenue holding onto the stupid things had brought her, it would stop the bleeding and go a good way to bandaging the wound. Just not as far as she would like, but getting ten times what she was considering settling for wasn’t something she was going to complain about.

It had been collected by a drone delivering a data-chit for each ship. It quickly put in a location on each ship it’s auto-pilot to take over and they both had flown at minimal power to the planet. Likely to get a refit, a buff job, a paint job and maybe some proper furniture in there. They were still good functional ships, just… abandoned by the previous owner for whatever reason.

There is a smile on her face as she rents out their former spaces and the money starts coming back in even faster.

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“You’re asking a lot of questions…”

“I’m retraining for a new job, and I need to show that I know how to do a public survey.” Observer Wu flat out lies and his bodyguards snicker.

“And they are?”

“Observers. Making sure I’m doing my job.” He lies further and Harold starts snorting and trying not to laugh.

“And him?”

“Nephew, by adoption. I gotta see him do this.” Harold lies immediately with a huge smile.

“Oh… and what do you do?”

“All sorts of things.” Harold replies.

“Sexual things?’

“Gotta get past my wives for that.” Harold replies.

“Yes, yes, very interesting. But can we please get back to my record? The sooner I finish this the better.”

“Oh? Are you in a hurry?”

“We got tickets to a show tonight but he needs to finish properly.” Harold says holding up some tickets to ‘local culture’ that he had gotten a chance to grab. The Sorcerers had been agreeable to bringing over his wives and he had decided to splurge on the wages he’d been piling up for the last few months. There was a bulk discount deal so Observer Wu and his bodyguards are coming too.

“With who?”

“The Five Flyz.”

“The Five Flyz!? Those tickets are so expensive!”

“They’re a bit cheaper if you grab a whole row.” Harold says and she stares at him with her mouth open.

“And you’ve said too much ‘nephew’, now she won’t answer any questions.” Observer Wu chides him.

“No no! I’m just… nevermind. So… you want to know what I think about humans?”

“Right, the general idea of a species that came out of the most inhospitable part of the galaxy and how it’s changing things. Soben’Ryd… I don’t think any humans have ever come here, so we have a good perspective of an outsider’s point of the view. I’ve been doing some polling with those who are from worlds that have had humans on them but…”

“Right, another point of view. Is there a reason you can’t use your own?”

“I can, but that’s just one point of view. I need more for proper data.” Observer Wu states and she nods before she starts to talk in earnest.

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“Are you sure about this?” Arden’Karm asks as he pulls up the mask and turns it to the side so the crossbar at the end of the chunk of wood come off. It’s a vaguely skull like chunk of wood with only a pair of eyeholes and the bark still on it. The length of the bar on it keeps it from banging on his nose too much, but also gives a distance from his face so that the eyes look empty unless he tries to make them glow.

His cloak was on and behind the mask were sound dampening headphones. To test out if it would be too much, they had started a hologram of one of their performances and he had stood on the stage while the crowd screamed, music blasted and it felt like a punch to the head whenever he lifted the earphone even slightly.

Which means that he needs to figure out how these things work even better. Couple that with asking for his cloak to listen for certain things, or certain voices instead of everything…

He can pick out conversations even in crowds.

“Come on! It looks great! Especially when you start to let your eyes glow! A few huffs of smoke and it’s so primal! The really old stuff!” The scary stuff!” Cali’Flynn says and he turns to a mirror and then just looks at himself. Alright, fair if it wasn’t him there he’d be reaching for his rifle. But is that really what they want on stage?

“I look like a serial killer.” He replies before making his eyes glow. The glow shifts from red to blue to yellow before he settles on warfire green. It doesn’t do anything to his vision, but it does make him look like he’s about to try and commit murder.

“Oh! That’s a good one! Go with that, it’s haunting and powerful!” She says and he doesn’t answer. Just thinking about things and how things have changed so fast. That his family just took him back in despite him leaving and not speaking for years.

Was it a mistake? Was it the right thing to do? It felt like the right thing to do, both then and now. But it hurt. It hurt then, it hurt now… but things ARE better. Maybe some more time will give him a better look at it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea though? I’m not really a dancer or singer. I haven’t practised or trained and it’s so soon.”

“Don’t worry, this is just to see if you get stage fright. It’s one of those things that you don’t really know until you know. Besides. So much of your outfit is made of plants you could probably make it stand on it’s own and vanish if you need to.”

“Or just vanish and leave the mask behind…” He muses.

“Oh! That’d actually be perfect! Whenever you need to disappear, let the mask drop dramatically to the ground! It’ll work so well!”

“But… well isn’t them knowing that a Sorcerer is there going to be scary?”

“Not really, no one really… gets them around here. They’re pretty much just a Homeworld thing. A powerful and cool Homeworld thing, but a Homeworld thing. So you’re just a wood and foresty themed teleporter with a bass voice.”

“I thought I was a low tenor.”

“Yeah, but you can force it down low and slow.”

“And in Ancient Cindertongue.”

“Of course! It’s a perfect backdrop!”

“Right…” He says pulling out a piece of paper that has the lyrics on it. He then lowers his voice and starts speaking in Ancient Cindertongue. But he understands it perfectly so it means little to him. Harlo’Traz, Master of Monsters! Wielder of the Forest’s Rage! Sorcerer! Vengeance incarnate, Harlo’Traz is his name!”

“Oh that sounded ominous. Just slow it down a little and it’ll be a perfect spooky backdrop for Urani to sing to.”

“If you say so. It sounded like I was just being pretentious really.” He says before thinking. “Also Harlo’Traz was a foodie. The biggest thing The Forests remember about him was him coming up with all kinds of recipes and spending half his life dedicated to finding the best food on Serbow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re singing about the legend, but I… I sort of have second or thirdhand memories of him… Honestly he’d love to live in the modern day… all the different foods he could try? If he didn’t kill himself eating something for a Cannidor first of course.”

“What made him a sorcerer?”

“He lived in the time of Warladies. One came screaming through his fishing village and he along with his father and male cousins were taken prisoner after his sisters and mothers were put to the blade. They made a big fight of it and Harlo’Traz is the only that got out. He then came back ten years later at the head of an army of twisted beasts that he fed his enemies and their families to.”

“What stopped him?”

“It’s in the song. The cry of innocence lost. Or to be more accurate, Harlo’Traz realized he had become the very thing he hated, so he stopped in his tracks. Turned around and left.

“Wow… so… it was… It really did happen? Whole armies being run over by massive paratak, giant hawks plucking soldiers off the ground, swarms of snakes strangling hundreds of women?”

“And more. There are a rare few poisonous animals in The Dark Forest. They were used to great effect and…” Arden’Karm turns his head to see Shar’Uran typing down some feverish notes. She looks up at him.

“Keep going! Keep going! This is amazing stuff!” She says before putting a finger to her chin and taking a breath. “Vengeance made this man a monster only to be laid low by a child’s cry!”

“Little bouncy for the subject matter.”

“Hmm… need to slow it down a little and find the more lyrical synonyms.” Shar’Uran agrees. “Now spill, what else did he do? Oh! Wait! You have the memories of ALL sorcerer…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1ggqln5/oocs_into_a_wider_galaxy_part_151/