trans_9 | Far From Home [Open]

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Far From Home [Open]

Ildraniath didn't go out of her way to avoid other members of the crew, but she certainly didn't invite their company either. Getting to know more of them, getting closer to a bunch of mon-keigh seemed counter-productive. It was like getting close to a set of tools or a particularly amusing and intelligent animal. Fulfilling in the short run, perhaps, but ultimately a bad idea in the long run. Besides, the less she had to deal with over-grown idiots the better.

So, she spent most of her time down in the city, wandering its streets, reflecting and planning. She'd have to do something eventually; either earn their trust or demand it. If she wanted to save her dying race, she would have to find a way.

Or simply remove the mon-keigh from the equation altogether. One of the two. She was still determined not to submit to them, however. Dd any of them really think she would trust them with her life, let alone the lives of other Eldar?

It did not help that her readings had been muddled and unclear of late. She paused at a street corner and then her eyes widened. Tucked almost out of sight behind a few squat, ugly-looking mon-keigh buildings was a familiar, smooth, curved form. All elegance and organic forms. Wraithbone. She hurried over, putting her palm against the side of the building. It did not quite resonate or hum as it would've aboard a craftworld. But... it was a building of her people. Nothing special - simply a dwelling. But to find it here....

She spent a long time simply staring up at it. Perhaps her race truly was doomed to fade into obscurity.

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The Chancellor had acquired a few supplies for the animals and had them tucked under one arm as he made his way across the city to their pasture.

He say an unusually smooth and curved building and stopped to admire it. It seemed a lot like some of the architecture of Camelot, and made him a bit homesick. He tried to shake the feeling off.

Ildraniath half-turned as she noticed the chancellor and eyed him coldly for a moment, her reverie and self-reflection broken for the moment. "Yes? What is it?"

"Mere nostalgia, madam," he says, his lips as ever not moving. "There is a minor resemblance to buildings familiar to me."

"A resemblance, nothing more. I doubt your people could have made buildings like the Eldar."

She's a bit cold and brusque, but she's like that to nearly everyone.

"What exactly are the Eldar, singular as they apparently are?"

Ildraniath was hard to miss, even in the sprawling streets of the City, but right now she seemed absorbed in one of the buildings, one with alien architecture he didn't (or couldn't) recognize. Zouichi pulled his bike (http://www.flickr.com/photos/56712133@N04/5318224737/) to a quiet stop not far from where she was standing, waiting for a moment to see if she'd break out of her reverie on her own. When she didn't, he called her name. Hopefully she wasn't so far gone she wouldn't hear him.

Ildraniath looked slightly startled for a moment as the sound of her name jolted her free of her little trance. Wraithbone. Home. Now was not the time to be acting like a home-sick wanderer. She shook her head slightly and turned toward Zouichi. She even managed a small smile.

"Zouichi. What can I do for you?"

Well, that was new; he didn't think he'd ever seen Ildraniath surprised at anything. Zouichi smiled back, a little apologetic at having interrupted her. "I picked up a few things while I was on XaXing, and I've been going around giving them out. I have something for you, too, actually."

He paused. "...But if it's a bad time, I can come back later."

It was hard to startle a Farseer. She'd just been distraced. But the mention of having something for her made her rather intrigued (and a bit confused). Why would he bother purchasing something for her? She certainly hadn't gone through the the trouble. Instead, she'd stocked up on vital supplies she might need for later.

"No, it's perfectly alright," she replied and began a slow, steady walk toward him. "I'm doing nothing of importance."

It hadn't really looked that way to Zouichi; he doubted she would have gotten equally absorbed in any random building in the City. But it wouldn't be polite to press the issue, of course. Maybe it had some unique property in which she was interested; maybe it reminded her of home.

In any case, he slid off the bike as she began her approach. From one of its compartments, he produced a small bolt of cloth (http://www.wowwiki.com/Mageweave_Cloth). Ildraniath had been a particularly hard crew member to find something for -- what do you get an Eldar that disdains everything?

His answer had been 'material with which she could make something that was only minimally objectionable.'

"It's water- and damage-resistant. I thought you might be able to use it to create something else to wear, if you ever had the need." After all, there weren't many sources of clothing aboard the ship, and not everyone had bio-organic armor they could wear every day. "Alternatively, I'm sure you could trade it for something of more value."

Yep. He was fully anticipating she might just throw out anything that didn't meet with her approval. She didn't seem the sentimental sort.

The bike reminded her of the craft the Space Marines sometimes rode into battle. Crude engines, but effective. Not all like the elegant, smooth operation of a jetbike. She eyed it with a bit of curiosity and then finally turned back to Zouichi as he presented her with a bolt of cloth. She reached out and took it, holding it up to the artificial sunlight so she could examine it.

She wasn't a craftswoman, but she could still tell quality when she saw it. There was something about this cloth - it reminded her of the material they used to make cloaks out of. Aesthetically pleasing. Maybe useful in the future. A considerate gift. She lowered the bolt and nodded.

"Thank you, Zouichi. I'm sure I'll find something useful to do with it. I'm... afraid I haven't anything to give in return."

Which seemed the polite thing to say.

How terrible, Ildraniath... it wasn't like those clunky motorcycles at all! It was sleek, black -- and quiet.

Zouichi watched curiously as she examined the cloth; he wasn't exactly an expert on fine textiles, himself, but it had been a step above most of the material they'd been selling. Besides, easily destructable clothes? No one should be subjected to that.

He smiled. "Don't worry; you're in good company. I think most of the crew took the opportunity to buy food and supplies for themselves. But since I don't eat or drink..." A shrug. "There's no point in eternally accumulating credits."

Zouichi motioned back toward the building she'd been inspecting. "Not exactly Earth architecture."

"That does make sense. I suppose it gives you an advantage over the rest of us. Eating is a necessity in our cases."

She tucked the cloth under one arm as Zouichi commented on the building and she glanced over her shoulder, spending another moment taking in the elegant, organic curves of the wraithbone. She turned back to Zouichi with a shrug.

"Because it isn't. It's Eldar architecture. Wraithbone."

"Don't tell me you don't enjoy the food here." His tone there was drier than dry; he hadn't eaten the slop provided by the ship, but he had seen it. And that had really been enough. It reminded him of wet cat food. Particularly unpalatable wet cat food.

He looked back at the building, more carefully this time. If it was Eldar, that might explain some of the unusual readings he was getting off of it. But there were so many things on the ship that he would have never encountered on Earth before, and he had little to no frame of reference for making sense of them.

"...Can you use it? Or is it just an ordinary living space?"

"What's not to enjoy? Tasteless slop with the consistency of wet gravel. Delicious," Ildraniath replied, equally dry. At least they shared a sense of humor about that sort of thing. Then again, Zouichi didn't have to eat it.

She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. "It is just living space here... It is mean to be a part of the Craftworld. Here, the wraithbone is empty and lifeless."

Which probably meant nothing to him, but she wasn't offering more of an explanation.

"I'm surprised you don't eat in the Sensoriums," he said. "It's all the rage." Of course, it was all the same slop going down.

And he was very glad he didn't have to eat it.

"The Craftworld? So the buildings there are alive, and connected? Through the Warp?" From Ildraniath's answer and what she'd said before, Zouichi was trying to form a picture of what her world was like, figure out why this dwelling was 'empty and lifeless' while other locations (the Tower of High Sorcery, anyone?) had apparently made it into the city largely intact.

Because it was connected? Because it couldn't function separate from a larger whole? Or because there were some rules to what carried over from other worlds to this place, rules that he was not aware of?

Also, he felt more at liberty to ask questions of her, now that he'd spoken with her a few times.

"Here it is just.. alone..." She gestured at the lone building, all organic curves; no harsh angles or geometry there. "Our Craftworlds are made of wraithbone and although it will still function here, it seems... lessened... because of it."

She shrugged. "I would not call them alive. It is... solidified warp energy. Malleable stuff given form and made to function. But it serves as our tools, our weapons, our armor. Our ships. Our homes."

Hmm. Interesting. And there was more than one Craftworld. A vast network, maybe? At least that would be what he'd expect, given Ildraniath's grandiose portrayal of her heritage.

"Don't tell me; you have Eldar who can convert energy into matter." Sure, let's just throw physics out the window some more.

"And the abilities you demonstrated earlier -- that was also manipulating warp energy?"

"We have those who specialize in creating wraithbone, yes," she sounded amused. Why wouldn't they? Sure, the terrans had never fully realized such power, but they were also not as closely attuned to the warp as the Eldar.

His question received a nod in reply, "Yes. The warp, as I've mentioned, is a psychic dimension parallel to our own."

There were so many questions he could ask -- and she was actually answering them!

"What are the unique properties of wraithbone? Can you create it? How far do your abilities extend? When we were fighting earlier, it felt as though someone were speaking to me -- was that all it was? If you can see into the future to determine the best course of action for your people, can you also see several seconds into the future to avoid enemy attacks?"

She arched one long, elegantly shaped brow. "Full of questions, aren't you? Well... Wraithbone channels psychic energy. We tell it what to do and it does so."

She folds her arms, considering his other questions. "Speaking? Then? A bit more. I was attempting to guide your actions, but that didn't end up working very well. I can speak telepathically, of course. And yes, I can read the runes in the heat of battle to predict the future and guide our fortunes."

"So it has no set tensile or compressive strength?" How bizarre. Maybe he should try to get a sample and see what it would take to destroy it.

She certainly seemed to have many useful abilities. Even if Ildraniath could see into the future, however, the actions she could take would still have to be limited by her own capabilities -- he had seen that firsthand during the battle, when the inspector had begun overpowering her with sheer strength. And her reaction time appeared finite, so even if she knew a blow was coming, she might not be able to dodge or parry in time. Still, being able to bring about the best possible outcome in a fight was certainly nothing to scoff at.

"Yes... you caught me a bit off guard." He paused for a moment. "Would you mind showing me that ability in more detail sometime? I would like to know how to correctly interpret your instructions, should we ever fight together in the future."

"It isn't unbreakable, of course, but I suppose not. It molds according to a bonesinger's desires. It's their purpose in our society."

She shrugged. Telling him innocuous facts couldn't hurt too much. Wraithbone wasn't exactly a guarded secret of the Eldar people. She tapped her fingertips together as she listened and slowly nodded.

"Of course. If we end up fighting alongside each other in reality, we would not want to falter, would we? It isn't all that complicated when you get down to it. Let me know when and I can demonstrate it for you once more."

"Their purpose? Does your society work on a caste system?"

None of this information was really something that Zouichi needed to know, of course -- but he was curious. Most of the crew he'd met so far were human, or close to it. Of the ones who were not, only two (Ildraniath included) belonged to a society that appeared to operate on regimented rules or tradition. And Anwei was not especially forthcoming about the Ninth Empire.

He nodded. "Any time that is convenient for you. I end up spending a lot of time in combat simulations."

"The reasons and point of our society's organization is a very long story. Do you really wish to hear it?" she replied. If pressed, she would tell him, of course. It was a cautionary tale, after all, and she had no desire to see other, lesser species repeating their mistake. Of course, the results might not be nearly as catastrophic, but still worth knowing about.

"I am supposed to show my powers to the head of the crew's magical department at some point. Perhaps you could assist me."

"Of course." He had the time, and if she was willing to relate it, he was willing to listen. In addition, learning more about her history might help him better understand her motivations.

"The Magical Department?" He raised an eyebrow. "Certainly, if you wouldn't mind me being present. I'm not exactly well-known for my mystical adeptitude. Are you planning on joining?"

Very well," Ildraniath nodded and turned to pace for a moment, getting her thoughts in order. "Our society is very heavily regimented. In order to avoid excess and curb our hedonism and indulgences, we focus heavily on one aspect or path at a time. An artisan, for example, would be only an artisan. A warrior, only a warrior. It goes... deeper than that, of course. A change from one path to another often comes with a shift in personality. But you are not expected to focus on one path for your entire life. One can wander too far down a path and become trapped, locked into that path for the rest of their lives."

She paused with a small, amused smile. "That is what I did. I have come down the witch-path and now, here I am. A Farseer for the rest of my days."

She raised a hand and waved it, dismissing the thought with a gesture. "There is a reason for it, of course. We did not embark on such a stringent path merely because we felt like it. No, we fell from grace."

A thoughtful look passed over her features, as if she was remembering something that had happened a very long time ago. "I was not alive then, of course, but many thousands of years ago, we were a vast empire. None could rival us in strength or power and the humans still rooted in the dirt for insects. But... we were, perhaps, too powerful. We fell into hedonism and distraction, turning inward in an orgy of pleasure, discounting all else. Some Eldar saw that we were going too far astray, but... their warnings went unheeded. Some fled to the outworlds. Others moved to the Craftworlds, for then we still lived on the surfaces of planets."

This was almost painful to speak of, but more than anything else she simply looked sad and resigned. "Our excess grew and became something beyond our own control. The very presence of our hedonism in the warp took on a mind of its own and in one explosive moment, She Who Devours was born. Most of our civilization died in a single stroke, their souls and presence in the warp devoured by Her birth. Only the outlying Craftworlds and Exodites survived. And so we fled, our species' death creating a massive tear in the world, a rift between the warp and real space."

She raised a hand, brushing it over the stone on her chest. "And because of our own folly, we cannot be reborn as we once were. We are doomed to a fate worse than death - for an Eldar's presence and psyche does not dissipate back into the warp after our deaths, as the humans do. No, we are more powerful, more attuned and we pay a price for it. We remain aware. But our souls, our very essence, is sought after be She Who Devours and should we die unprotected, She gorges Herself on our essence."

Her gaze was cold and hard and resigned, "That is why I will not allow this ship to die. For if it dies, so do the Eldar aboard and I will not condemn them to that fate."

"I'm... sorry." What could he say to something like that? Zouichi didn't know if souls really existed -- in his world, at least -- and even if they did, whether he possessed one or not. He had little way of relating personally to her story. However, the concept clearly weighed heavily on Ildraniath, as did her civilization's fall from grace. But there was one other thing...

"What do you mean 'protected'?" That part, at least, sounded like there was a way to circumvent their fate, to avoid being caught by She Who Devours.

Then something clicked. "...Cargn? Is that what you asked Cargn for? To 'protect' your soul, should you die?"

There was a reason she liked Zouichi. He learned quickly and he was intelligent enough, for a human construct.

"Yes..." She wasn't entirely comfortable discussing this with an outsider, but if Cargn already knew, what was the point in keeping it secret from Zouichi? She had a feeling she could more readily depend on him, in any case.

"All of our people wear spirit stones. At the moment of death, our essence is trapped by the stone and so we are protected from being destroyed. Cargn has promised me that he will retrieve mine should I fall in battle."

"But what if Cargn should die?" Zouichi frowned. He didn't like it. The idea of Ildraniath's soul being devoured by some dark god that presided over her people, the idea that her only hope of escape hinged upon the good faith of one person...

"... can anyone perform this service for you? Or is some additional ability required, which only Cargn possesses?"

"Anyone can retrieve the stone. If we were aboard a craftworld, there would be something else to be done with it, but here...? It would merely need to be preserved," Ildraniath shrugged.

"I see. In that case, would it be all right if I were to retrieve it? I admit I'm not very familiar with the Eldar, but... I don't like the idea of your soul falling into unscrupulous hands, should something happen to Cargn."

He wasn't even really sure why Ildraniath trusted Cargn, but she must have some reason for doing so.

"By all means. Better then leaving it to be destroyed. We risk our lives to regain our fallen brethren as it is..." She paused and then shrugged. "Having more then one person to focus on the matter seems wise, in any case. Thank you, Zouichi."

And she sounded genuine.

Zouichi nodded. "I will do everything in my power to make certain that does not happen." And when he said that, he meant it.

"Again, my thanks." Ildraniath bowed from the waist. "...and thank you for your interest. For now... I believe I need to attend to a few things."

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Far From Home [Open]

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<strike>Because that's how he rolls</strike>

Aw yeah.

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repost for tense shift. @_@

Curses!

Foiled again.

Re: Foiled again.

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