#sci-fi story adventure

[linuxgamenews]

Explore the Mining Colony On Jupiter With Universe For Sale

Universe For Sale sci-fi story adventure game that is worth playing on Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. Thanks to the creative geniuses at Tmesis Studio for bringing this amazing experience to life. Available on Steam and Humble Store. Let's talk about Universe For Sale, a new release from Tmesis Studios. This title is something quite unique, especially if you're into sci-fi story adventure's and storytelling. It's available on Linux, Mac, and Windows PC, so pretty much everyone can dive in. It all takes place in mining colony on Jupiter, but it's not your regular space facility. This place is full of strange cultists, intelligent apes, and hard working androids. They all hang out in a vibrant market floating in the clouds of Jupiter, a massive gas giant. The main characters in Universe For Sale are Lila and someone known only as the Master. They're trying to figure out their lost past and why they keep feeling a sense of déjà vu. As you explore, you'll unravel the interconnected stories of the people living on Jupiter. Since each character you meet has their own tale. And through Lila's unique ability to create custom universes, you can craft your own story. Now, what makes Universe For Sale stand out? First off, the visuals are stunning. The hand-drawn animation is like something out of a high-end European comic book. It's not just a pretty title; this adds a whole layer of depth to the experience.

Universe For Sale | Launch Trailer

The setting is also something to talk about. You'll navigate through a mix of winding alleyways and run-down areas. Each full of colorful and unique characters. It's not just a backdrop; Universe For Sale is a world that feels alive and full of secrets. But what's a great visual without sound, right? The soundtrack of this title is laid-back and original, composed by the talented Guglielmo Diana. It's the kind of music that keeps you immersed and relaxed as you explore. Lastly, there's a unique feature where you get to craft universes inside a ceramic cup. It's a mini-game that lets you leave your mark in this imaginative world.

What Players Think:

The reviews for Universe For Sale paint a vivid picture of a deeply engaging and comforting title that resonates with players on multiple levels. Its unique blend of stunning visuals, immersive music, and a compelling sci-fi storyline captivates players. Offering an experience akin to revisiting a favorite memory. Players also admire the attention to detail in the sci-fi story adventure, both in animation and character design. Since this adds depth and life to the game world. The puzzles are described as challenging yet approachable, perfectly complementing the story. While there are minor points of improvement noted, such as animation tweaks and clarity in certain game mechanics, the overall verdict is overwhelmingly positive. Fans of story games and those new to the genre alike find themselves drawn into the Universe For Sale mysterious and poetic atmosphere. Along with many eager to see how the story unfolds. Universe For Sale is more than just a sci-fi story adventure. It's a blend of storytelling, exploration, and creativity, set in a sci-fi world that's both mysterious and intriguing. Whether you're in it for the story, the visuals, or just the chance to create something unique, this title offers a rich and engaging experience. So, if you're into sci-fi and love a good narrative, you might want to check it out. Available on Steam priced at $13.49 USD / £10.25 / 11,69€ with the 10% discount. Regular priced on Humble Store. Along with support for Linux, Mac, and Windows PC.

[fictionadventurer]

There's a character in my head who's like a sci-fi Beth March. A woman who has several sisters in adventurous high-status spacefaring careers, but she lives on Earth, tending her gardens and caring for her house. And it seems like she's the failure of the family, but her sisters all respect her, because she ensures that they always have a home to go back to. When space gets too big and isolating, when they feel unmoored from reality, when they've been beaten up by the traumas of their space adventures, they can always find a welcome at her house. She gives them a safe, peaceful place to rest, and feeds them home-cooked meals, and takes them out in the gardens where they can be among real live growing things instead of endless sterile corridors of metal and machines. And her sisters all respect that though she lives a small life, she may just have chosen the better path, and even if they couldn't be happy in such a life themselves, they're always glad she's there for them.

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,248

"Well, I have to be someone's problem,"

[elbiotipo]

Even though I'm a bit guilty of it myself with my own space opera setting (it's supposed to have a retro aesthetic), it's surprising how science fiction has been so permeated by cynicism and what I can best define as "End of History" thinking that the only thing pop sci fi seems able to imagine is "the future will be the same as today (or even worse), but there will be Cool Laser Guns"

(lately even the lasers have been replaced by regular bullets)

What I mean is that much like it's easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism, it's easier to imagine our current capitalist system extending indefinitely but now In Space rather than imagine societal changes. Like, this it guys? We're gonna have to pay rent and fight pointless wars and be ruled by corporate suits forever? are we actually gonna have fucking CEOs as we explore the galaxy?

This is it? You can't imagine a better world than this?

Even when sci-fi authors talk about realism, it's usually about how to make ships pound each other harder with missiles, not how about society will evolve in the future, what changes might technology bring to society (the whole point of science fiction in my opinion). It's just Today, But With Lasers. We will still have corporations, nation-states, cops, war, the same society we have now. But Now With Lasers.

anyways, for a good start, read Banks and LeGuin, but there are others, lots more, who dare to imagine what actual futures might look like, they just aren't as well known

[nickthealien]

My trail camera caught something last night, anyone know what this thing is???

[swaps55]

I have been thinking about two things all day.

That post I saw this morning very confidently believing that a $130k salary is "comfortably middle class" in Los Angeles, which made me laugh, then have a mild existential crisis.

Sam Shepard absolutely slaying it at karaoke to "Walking On Broken Glass."

So. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[alteredsilicone]

twitter rehashes the "disabled people in fantasy settings" discourse every other week but all i got is that there is a certain level of irony that the same people who complain how everything has become too sanitized and inclusive are also going "UM IF THERE IS MAGIC WHY CAN'T YOU JUST MAGIC AWAY ALL THE DISABILITIES"

i thought you guys liked ~reaļizm~ and that means that sometimes disabilities can't be cured and people have to make do with the cards the world has dealt them

[battlegroundofdreams]

4

The meeting in Krios' office doesn't go exactly as planned....

An hour later, and after both getting cleaned up after training, Morpheus and Melinoe headed up to Krios’ office.  Both were dressed fully in black and looked like a matching pair, and in time they would be; however, at the moment, Morpheus was still trying to figure out the enigma that was the woman walking next to him.  To be called to the office of the Prime, to have a messenger treat her as if she was an officer in the corps, the name the messenger had called her, there were questions that he wanted answers to, and if they didn’t come in the Krios’ office, he’d find out later.

There was no wait once they had arrived at the office. Krios’ assistant had been waiting for them and showed them in immediately.  The auburn haired Prime had his back to them when they entered, but his posture left no donut that he was unhappy.  Surely soon he would be letting them both know his thoughts on the matter that had called them up.

“Andromeda will be joining us.”  The Prime’s deep voice echoed around his office as they took seats across from his desk.  He still had not turned from the window.  He was expecting problems with Morpheus, and was preparing to reign in his temper to keep from losing one of his best agents.  It was no secret that the agent didn’t want a partner, and now to have a case so soon after being assigned, it was sure to cause issues.

Morpheus and Melinoe looked at one another.  Not only was the Prime meeting with them but also the Adjutrix, even with what was in the scroll, it didn’t seem a serious enough situation to require that.  For the first time since she received the scroll, Melinoe became nervous.  Not killing a nightmare on the first attempt was hardly a rare occurrence, let alone when there had been more than one and she had been alone.  Morpheus couldn’t miss the trepidation he now saw in her eyes.  

“I apologize for my delay,” Andromeda entered the office and closed the door.  There was little doubt in either her or Krios’ mind that this would get loud and messy.  Morpheus was known for his temper just about as much as his ego.

“EMA (eema) Melinoe, to be honest we're not sure that this nightmare is part of that team you took on, but if not then he's duplicating their methods.” Krios turned from the window, his heavily tattooed forearms crossed over his broad chest.  They were a testament to the battles he had fought as an agent.  “We've had two more agents almost taken out by him. They're not getting even close to him.  This is why we need you.”

Now what the messenger had said made sense to Morpheus.  He'd pronounced the acronym wrong, Melinoe was an Elite Master Assassin.  That was a rank he hadn't even achieved.  It added to his respect for her, but also brought up new questions. 

“Agent Morpheus and I will be ready tomorrow to start tracking, sir.” Melinoe answered, still not sure why they had been called up to the office for a routine thing.  “We spent today practicing and training, I have no doubt we'll make a good team.  His reputation, as I'm sure you know, is well earned.” She turned her head slightly towards Morpheus and gave him a small smile.  She was honest . 

“EMA Melinoe, we are not worried about your abilities.  We want to ensure we do not have another agent down to injuries that could be avoided if one were to use caution, patience, and check their ego at the door.” Andromeda was frank, and the look she cast towards Morpheus made her disdain clear.  Now everyone knew why they were there, and none looked happy about it.

“I can assure you..” Melinoe started trying to head off the fight she could almost feel coming.  As Andromeda has spoken, Morpheus has straightened and his hands had balled to fists.  She couldn’t blame him, the Adjutrix hadn't even attempted to be delicate . 

“You're worried about ME getting her injured or killed?  Come out and say it if you have the balls.” Morpheus interrupted.  “You heard my partner, we function well together and be fine. Can you both fuck off now?”

“Until she steps on your toes or says something you don't like, right Morpheus?” Now Krios was going to take him head on.  “Then what? You'll leave her in the dream alone? Tell her to fuck off now? Make her carry your weight? I need both of you back, and I don't care if your ego has to be sacrificed for it.” He leaned over the desk after Morpheus, his hands going flat on it.  His muscles could be seen flexing under his dress shirt. Obviously the Prime was ready for a fight.

Unfortunately Morpheus wasn’t looking to disappoint, “you really think that I would do that?”  He was now on his feet, quickly followed by Melinoe who was going to try to keep the two powerful men from destroying each other and the office.

“Check my ego and temper, but I'm not the only one with either of those, am I?  I get it, she's higher rank, but I have earned respect.” He looked between Krios and Andromeda, obviously enraged.  “I would never abandon another agent, or endanger them, because of my ego.  I know where to find Mel if I have a score to settle.”

“Morpheus, I don't think that's what they..” once more Melinoe started trying to defuse the situation. 

“No, he understood me.” Andromeda cut her off this time. “You're reckless, Morpheus.  You take risks. Only now it won't be just you.  You'll have one of the best with you and…”

“And who is another of those bests? ME! So I'm pretty damn sure we have this…” Morpheus took a step towards Andromeda, Melinoe gently touching his arm to try and calm him.

“AGENT MORPHEUS!” Krios’ hands slammed down on his desk to get everyone's attention.  “You will respect the chain of command in my office or…”

“Or what? You'll take me off the case and send Mel in with someone inferior?  You are actually standing there and threatening me?”

Melinoe felt like she was watching the beginning of another World War and she had no interest in it.  “Sir, I trust Morpheus and that should be enough.  No one is going to be left behind or not protected.  I think we all need to think about what we're saying.  Morpheus is right, you're both being insulting to his abilities.”

Her hand tightened on Morpheus’ arm.  She didn't want a full on fight.  If she was going to have to go back up against one of those nightmares, she wanted him as her backup. “Morpheus, it's fine.  Don't take their bait.” She kept her voice low and hoped they'd built enough of a report that he'd listen . 

“You should listen to your partner Morpheus. It seems at least one of you…” Andromeda started, before being cut off.

“If she's so fucking perfect, what do you need me for? Clean up duty? Someone to take the blame if it goes sideways?” Morpheus didn't ever let her get started before raging.  “I've never had to clean up someone’s messes before and I'm not liking it now. It’s not my fault your apparent darling isn’t capable of doing it on her own and needs someone to come in and save it for her.  People don’t die on my watch, but I guess now I have to make sure they don’t die on hers too.  What exactly am I getting out of this whole arrangement?”

“ENOUGH!!”  Now it was Melinoe that had everyone’s attention, and none looked sure what she was going to say.  

“Fine, you don't want to, how'd you say it? Clean up my mess?  Fine. I'll figure it out myself, and do it without you.  I didn't ask for your help, or to be your partner in the first place.  Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go prepare for tomorrow.  I’m sure Krios and Andromeda can find something to keep you busy while I work.”  She gave no one a chance to answer, she strode from the room, slamming the door behind her so hard it rattled.

For a moment no one left in the office moved.   Up until then, Melinoe had been the most calm in the room.   It was clear she was now, however, seriously pissed.  Krios and Andromeda had never seen her anywhere near that emotional regarding anything, let alone that enraged.  It was clear that the meeting had gone in a direction that they had not anticipated and now they might have created a problem that could not be rectified easily.

“If anything happens to her either fighting that nightmare or afterwards, your career is over.” Krios said firmly, but flatly. “I will completely decimate your life outside of the agency. You will pray for death.  Your skill has got you this far, Morpheus, but you've reached the end of what it can do for you.  We gave you the one agent who we believed could work with you, and you’ve not even lasted a day.  You’d better hope you can fix this.  Now, GET.OUT. of my office.”

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Haunted by the possibilities of a novel in verse.

[the-anxious-acrobat]

bookshop regular\book lover concept! 📚📖

[guillotineman]

[fictionadventurer]

Have I mentioned lately that creating AUs is the most fun thing ever? You get to take a story you love and then mash it against another type of story you love and fit all their pieces together like they're a jigsaw puzzle. You get to find all the unexpected points of similarity where the stories fit together really well, and see the places where their differences change and make commentary on the original stories/genres in really interesting ways.

And then once you fit the pieces together, you get to look at the new world you've made and see how these characters in this specific world have different conflicts and explore new themes, and you get to play with another level of puzzles as you figure out what this means for this story.

It's the most fun ever. It's my favorite game.

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,208

"You are my obsession,"

[x-c-e-l]

66. The Sun Will Rise Again

XCEL Chapter 66, "The Sun Will Rise Again," is now out! Read it here!

“181 wins again. That makes over 100 consecutive victories,” noted Dr. Zuisaya Nori through thin lips, glaring down through the two-way mirror. Jotting down one final note, she sucked on the tip of her pen and turned to an associate dressed in suffocatingly sterile laboratory detail. “This will conclude this phase of testing. Record that, and draw a line on their files.” The scientist nodded.…

[doublel27]

One of my favorite things about genre stories: fantasy, adventure, sci-fi, romance, mystery, tragedy, horror…is that there is an expected narrative structure that the story needs to hit in order to qualify for that genre.

The magic comes in how the creator hits that expected structure and pulls at your emotions even when you already know what’s coming. They have the ability to do whatever they want inside those boundaries and that’s the game.

And I hate how often they’re maligned as less than because the structure is known, when the structure is half the challenge.

[politetim]

Aurgin and Eileen, Chapter 3

To the Edge of the Jungle

A part of Aileen was sad to see Ankirat dawn and for her to leave this odd city behind. That part was her stomach, so the cleric indulged it with one last delicious breakfast. She enjoyed the solid feeling the Mathuni meals gave her; full but not bloated. She put her mind to the task ahead as she hefted a bulging backpack and idly wondered who would be given her old one. I hope they fixed that fraying strap, it was bound to burst soon.

Aurgin hadn’t stayed at the same inn, insisting she had somewhere else to stay. They agreed to meet at the edge of the city so as to not waste any time. Aileen let the crowds guide her, flowing along the roads like a raft down a river. At one particularly large intersection of boulevards she stopped, intimidated. A small Mathuni child saw her hesitating at the edge of the milling mass, and held out his hand. “Tzzt?” they asked.

She smiled and reached down. The child took her hand and guided her through the mass of bodies, chattering excitedly as their unbraided locks bounced with each step. Adult Mathuni saw them coming, and diverted themselves with smiles and nods. With her tiny navigator she reached the slow moving ‘shore’ on the other side, and patted the child goodbye. They were still waving at her when she reconnected with a road heading north and east.

At the perimeter of the city she came across a gatehouse. There were no gaps in the wall here, and it was double thick. Aileen guessed this was because it faced the official road into the city from Turgandy instead of the jungle where she had entered. The guards at the gatehouse gave her serious looks, their enormous bows close to hand, their arrowbags bulging with viscously thick arrows. Soldiers that returned from failed raids on Ogroth refused to return, and Aileen could see why. Mathuni bows looked like they could punch right through chainmail, and bite deep into the wooden shields of the footmen.

A half hour wait in the gatehouse later, and the first lean Mathuni she had seen arrived with her shield and mace. As they were given back to her Aileen inspected them. The shield seemed untouched, but the mace had been cleaned. Who has the patience to sit and clean this thing? Then another thought came to her.

“Did Aurgin pass by here?”

The Mathuni gave her looks, but only their leader responded. “Churrum rumm ra, yes.”

“Excellent, I have an errand with her.”

“She is in a poor mood from being kicked out again.”

What? “What did she do this time?” The gatekeeper shrugged. “Tried to confront Dihamhe and his new lover, got kicked out for a night and a day.”

Aileen groaned and covered her face with a hand. “Why? Nevermind, that’s a question I should save for her.”

“Perhaps. I hope your stay was pleasant, cleric. Have you any divine words for us before you go?”

Aileen looked up. All the Mathuni were staring at her, poses respectful if awkward. “Huh?”

“We don’t often get paladins here. The holy Folk of our own are often out on mission, moving villages further away from Turgandy and Krake’Tiar, or working in secret to sabotage the elves along the Mountains of Twilight.” He gestured around at the Mathuni with him. “It would be nice to feel the peace of the Endless Above, to know we are not forgotten by them.”

Aileen used to perform outreach to peasants with the monks. Then when she struck out on her own, her opportunities to do so dried up. Folk needed help with worldly problems, like wolves or bears or infected wounds or poisoned wells. It could be said they took their close relationship with the Endless for granted, and the glut of clerics and paladins reinforced that closeness. It occurred to her that the Mathuni had no such closeness.

Standing, she reached out mentally. A large part of these ceremonies was the atmosphere. Folk appreciated a flair for the dramatic, especially when it came to the dealings of the divine. She pulled at the wind, imagining it gently gusting in through the open gate, bringing the fresh smell of the jungle and the songs of birds. The clouds that muted Ankirat’s rays broke and the light of dawn swelled. She raised a hand, palm out towards the Mathuni, and filled it with divine power. Her glove began to glow a soft gold, the light of Tain.

Greenish-black heads bowed in reverence. When Aileen spoke, her words were not her own.

THAKUNI MERRAM RUMM RA RUHMM RUNNO. Aileen squashed the corner of her mind that was shocked Tain would speak to the Mathuni in their own language. Obviously, why would Tain speak Turgen to someone who doesn’t know it? Another assumption she didn’t realize she had died: Ogroth took another victim. The breeze died, and the light dimmed once more. Her glove’s glow faded, and the warm, buzzing sensation drained from her hand.

“Thank you cleric. It has been a long time since we have heard the world speak,” the gatekeeper said with a weary smile. “We will remember you here, Aileen of Tain.”

Before Aileen turned to go, one of the other guards held out a massive fist. “Tzzt!” they said with a toothy, tusky grin.

She did not know it, nor did the Mathuni who waved her goodbye, but there were more eyes on Aileen. A dozen pairs of eyes peered out from the undergrowth of the jungle, flashing with the cat-like irises of the Elves. They watched her strike out from a far hill top in total silence. Even when they broke their position to tail her, they drifted between the trunks without disturbing a single leaf. The birds sang on, ignorant to the danger below them.

Aileen came across Aurgin in the worst way. East of Ogroth was a thundering river fed by the snow melts of Solitude’s Peaks in Turgandy. They had agreed to meet each other at the bridge that crossed this river, but Aurgin was nowhere to be seen. Before Aileen could vent her frustration the sickly-sweet smell of fermented fruit surrounded her and a heavy pair of hands slammed down onto her shoulders, driving her to her knees.

Rather than try to stand again she lurched forward into a roll, gathering her mace into her hand as the world spun. Her helmet’s chinstrap dug at her throat. The loose dirt and stones of the road ground against her shield, then her boots as she got her legs under her and slid to a stop. Straightening, she faced her attacker, shield already off her shoulders and into her hand. It was Aurgin, laughing uproariously and swaying on her feet. She wore a brigandine vest, and standing head-down on the ground next to her was a finely made maul. Its head was bigger than Aileen’s two fists set together.

“Tain’s tits!” Aileen swore. “Aurgin you shitty drunk, I almost killed you!”

“Oh peace woman, if I was a bandit I would’ve jabbed you in the back of the neck.” She swaggered a few steps forward before another thought came to her. She turned around to look at Ogroth, barely a mile down the road. “And then outriders would’ve come spilling out of the gatehouse and pincushioned me.”

Adrenaline surge fading, Aileen hunched over to breathe through her anger. “Why can’t you fortify yourself against the impulsive thoughts?”

“Why can’t you hear me, drunk, sneaking up on you? I think we have learned some important lessons about each other.” Aurgin said, still smiling. She let a hand drop to her waist as she inspected Aileen from head to toe. “Such as: I will have to watch your back.”

The Mathuni craned her neck to the side with a pointed look. “Not that I would mind that.”

“You are hopeless,” Aileen said as she pulled herself upright. “Where in the twin hells is this Maker person?”

“Murdoc told me we would meet them out in the field north of Sku Koroth.” She nodded at the jagged mountains on the eastern horizon.

Aileen suppressed a groan. “Why should we go north of the mountains? Surely it would be faster to go south.”

“Can’t, dragon,” was all Aurgin had to say about that. She was already marching away. As Aileen grew calmer she noticed Aurgin had cut her dark, orange-red hair and shaved one side of her head. Whether that held significance or not, she was unsure. As revenge, she gathered her will and imagined a stone jutting out from the road just in front of Aurgin’s foot. Without a sound a stone obeyed, and Aurgin stumbled over it with a curse.

They walked, and as they walked Aurgin talked. She didn’t seem to hold herself to her promise to ‘watch Aileen’s back’ as the pace she set had the cleric struggling to keep up. Aurgin’s long, powerful legs ate up the miles with ease. She kept her deadly maul on her shoulder in a soldier’s way, and her head was always scanning from side to side. Aileen agreed with the Mathuni’s earlier quip, they were indeed learning lessons about each other.

“Who taught you to fight?” the cleric asked, interrupting Aurgin’s constant stream of talking. She had tuned the woman out miles earlier, figuring stories that kept wrapping back around to Dihamhe weren’t important for her to know. Aurgin went silent for a moment.

“My dad. And then my sisters. Then some others.” Aileen noticed the lack of detail.

“Some others? Like who? What else did they teach you?”

Aurgin let out a sigh. “Oh how to use a maul, how to break a man, running and lifting in the dwarven way, repairing my kit and using a forge. We were all taught these things. It isn’t very interesting.”

“Learning how to use a hammer from one of the Seven Companions isn’t interesting? I think not.” Aileen tried to bite back a different question, but couldn’t help herself. “Aurgin, what happened to the Seventh Companion? There are only six.”

Aurgin was silent for a long time. Their booted feet beat a tattoo on the dirt road, giving the bird song a rhythm to match. When the Mathuni warrior finally spoke, Aileen almost jumped.

“My dad doesn’t like to talk about it. His name was Icarus Moldozen, a cleric of Rothgar, and he did not survive their journey.”

Moldozen stuck out in Aileen’s mind like the snowy peaks of Sku Koroth above the canopy. The name came from the Turgen language, not the common tongue that the Endless Above taught to the Folk of the world. It was a reference to the harsh boulders on the shores of the islands of Fortitude, where a great elven invasion came and was shattered utterly. The world remembered the humiliation of the elves at the hands of the tiny archipelago, and stories of those battles became legend for all free Folk. Moldozen. The Obsidian Shore.

“I did not mean to dampen your mood.”

“And yet that is exactly what you’ve done.” Aurgin said loftily. They marched on in silence, their road taking them through a bustling Mathuni town. They stopped only to eat, and Aurgin stayed quiet the whole way through, only breaking her reverie to comment when Aileen gleefully gave up an extra few pennies for more coffee.

“Don’t drink too much, you’ll regret it.”

Aileen scoffed mentally, and enjoyed her warm cup. The town around them seemed more on edge than Ogroth. Children were fewer in number, and the number of guards around the tree-trunk perimeter was enormous. Watchful eyes scanned the jungles to the north, and spare arrows were crammed by the hundred into easy-to-reach baskets by each guard post. The conversation of the crowds was subdued, and fires were conspicuously smaller. It was a town under constant threat of assault.

The alert posture of the town weighed heavily on Aileen’s mind as they marched away from their lunch stop. As a Turgen she was aware of the ongoing contests between the assorted fiefs of her kingdom and Ogroth, but as a cleric she considered the conflict beneath her. Turgandy had rarely been assaulted directly, and the stories that radiated from the affected villages and hamlets were that of brutality and desecration. Having spent three days in Ogroth, a part of her wondered if she should’ve paid better attention to those stories. They walked in silence for a few miles more. Aileen was content with the time they were making, though a growing sense of unease was building with each step.

Aurgin, despite her dedicated scanning of the surrounding foliage, was lost in her own thoughts. Makrus, her father, was a strange figure. In the stories he was either a roving monster of death and destruction or an angelic being of freedom and liberty. Breaking bodies, armies, and heroes; or chains and enslavers. In truth, anyone who met with and talked to the Folk behind the armor would learn just how much he hated his legacy of violence. A warrior turned philosopher, more dedicated to his family and his paintings.

As a child she found his endless droning about honor and morality to be a boring tangent in the otherwise exciting stories of overcoming dragons and the undead. It was almost quaint to hear some four hundred pounds of muscle and enchanted armor discuss the benefits of watercolors over oil-based paints. Once she had matured into a woman and taken lives of her own, she wished desperately for him to tell her again the importance of kindness in war.

He had no more time for her. Mathuni women from every corner of Kyranta had made the pilgrimage to the City of Flowers to give up the children they could not care for and the orphans of their village to Makrus. Mialoth took pity on them, and her close friendship with Makrus inspiring her to create an exception to her harsh rebuke of uninvited guests to her private island-city. Through this decades-long arrangement the Hammerfiend had amassed an entire society of children, all of whom he loved as his own daughters.

They called themselves the Hammer Sisters, and relied only upon each other and their dad. Since Aurgin had left, their numbers swelled above a hundred. In a world that considered seventy Folk an army, they were a genuine force that could shape international conflicts. They choose instead to stick with Makrus, who did not want to lead his own children into war. 

Aurgin’s wanderlust wasn’t unique among the Hammer Sisters, but she still felt guilt at staying away so long.Murdoc’s quest was too interesting for her to quit. Mialoth herself had told Aurgin more about their quest, which was an experience. The elven mage spoke directly and flatly, unlike Ironeyes.

“At the end of the peninsula are two islands, the remains of mountain ranges swallowed by the ocean. The furthest one is where the temple lies.”

“How do we get there? I don’t know how to sail, nor how to build a boat.” Aurgin asked.

“We have hired someone to help with that. Boats won’t be necessary, there should be magic gates somewhere near the tip of the peninsula proper that will take you to your destination.”

“Why can’t you teleport us there yourself?”

“Because that would be entirely too easy.” Mialoth deflated somewhat. “It is a curse to be a Companion. Your father could tell it better, but to be able to help with every problem a Folk could have… I have the capacity to, yes. But it really is the journey that matters most. The Endless Above do not solve our problems because they think it is better for us to suffer. They learned the hard way not to meddle in our affairs, because with so much power they inevitably cause problems they could not foresee.”

“Your quest is to retrieve a letter, which I will need. My quest is to convince a dead god that hope is not gone from this land, that there are Folk worth fighting for, worth coming back for. Teleporting there and taking what I want? That would not be a convincing argument.” She smiled. One pointed ear sticking out from silken hair, the other painfully cropped short by an old injury. “I trust you to prove we are not worth abandoning, and I trust that you understand I simply don’t have the words to explain this whole mess.”

Aurgin’s mind lurched as she realized how dark the day had gotten, and her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings for landmarks. Sku Koroth was almost directly south of them, they were well beyond the border of safety that the Mathuni towns provided. Aileen also seemed lost in thought, or at least focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her hazel eyes were wide, oddly.

“Aileen!” Aurgin hissed. “How long has it been?”

“Huh? Endless Above! It’s already dark?” Aileen snapped back into focus. They stopped in unison. Aurgin saturated herself with her senses. The humidity had died, replaced by the hint of a salty sea breeze blowing in from the north. It was dark, and the jungle canopy had shortened into the oaken forests of the peninsula. The birds have stopped singing.

“Get off the road! Quick!” Aurgin leaped for a bush, her heart hammering. Well honed senses screamed in alarm that something was wrong. Aileen was a half step behind her when a low curse drifted out from behind the trunks of the trees and bow strings began to snap. Arrows buried themselves into the branches and boughs around them, their accuracy viscous if late.

Her maul was in her hands. Her bag was off of her shoulders. Aurgin squatted behind cover, straining to see if there were any bandits on their side of the road. Her attention paid off when a shadow dropped its bow and pulled out a spear, not willing to risk a point blank shot. Aileen was unaware of the danger just behind her, busy getting her impressive steel shield into her hand. No time to speak. Aurgin stood and swung.

The most important lesson she learned from Makrus was managing momentum. Mauls were heavy at one end, and keeping that weight moving without getting snared or interrupted was important. A moving hammer-head represented a cloud of danger that extended around Aurgin as far as she could reach. Momentum was both the key to swinging at someone and pulling back and into stance before they could retaliate. Momentum was what carried the circular iron head through the bandit’s skull, letting out a chilling crack as the bone of their temple yielded.

Momentum carried their corpse, still upright, over Aileen’s shoulders and into the road. Aurgin’s strike left her open, though. Arrows from across the road zipped by her, one biting into the gambeson-covered steel plates of her brigandine vest, and one piercing her right bicep. Another slammed into her chainmail skirt, not piercing it but bruising her thigh painfully. She staggered back against the trunk she hid behind, adrenaline keeping her on her feet. She swapped her grip; Makrus taught all of them to fight right and left handed.

Aileen gasped at the arrow in Aurgin’s arm. Then she made her move, raising her shield and stepping out into the open. It was instantly beat upon by arrows, and Aurgin closed her eyes to better listen. Thip-thip-thip-thip! Thip-thip, thip! At least four bowmen, two experienced ones. Aileen would be surrounded and pin cushioned, shield or not. Aurgin made to step out behind her, using the shield as cover, but stopped short. The steel shield was burning with holy light, and Aileen’s mace dangled by a strap on her wrist.

The cleric pulled at the air, conjuring a bright bolt of light, then hurled it towards where the bowmen were hiding. It did not hit anybody, but backlit them with a dazzling brilliance. With that Aileen took her wicked flanged mace and charged the dumbfounded archers. After only a second of awe-struck hesitance, Aurgin followed.