Anarion

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle

You arrive back, riding second in Tad’s ship, to the sight of your mother, Almira Castra Lozano, standing in the hangar of Akar Prime with a small gray datapad in one hand. Somehow, despite the gritty browns and grays of the setting, she is wearing a purple dress that goes down to her ankles, her only accommodations to the space being that she’s wearing black flats instead of heels and she’s got a darker shawl wrapped above her back and shoulders to keep off the dust. Somehow, this does nothing to hide her perfectly shaped neckline and the gleaming amethyst necklace she’s wearing.

Tad gives your hand a squeeze of reassurance as you get off the small shuttle’s boarding ramp, the two mecha behind it piloted by two of the corporate staff for escort duty setting down at a respectful distance out of earshot. It’s been a long four days since you were left alone in that lab on Roius and probably nothing now would be better than a meal and a long bath. But that isn’t to be.

“Isabelle Maria Lozano de la Estrella” she says, in perfect cadence as you step out. “You have worried us all to death!” She hugs you, firmly and quickly, then holds you with both hands on her shoulders. Her platinum wedding band glints in the hangar light. “I came as soon as I heard the news of your last match. The Emberlight in shambles, oh my daughter, and then we receive your distress call that you’ve been kidnapped by pirates! What a life you’ve been living, hm. Going out without a party, a staff, or anyone to accompany you? To think when I learned that my precious daughter was such a fool, your poor mother’s heart cannot take it.”

Her hands are firm and pressing. “The hopes of this whole house are riding on you, my child. This simply won’t do at all. Your next match…” she holds up the datapad, which was actually addressed to you but she seems not to have had any concern taking deliveries on your behalf in your absence, “...will be against one of the representatives of the Zaldarian empire, some minor pilot named Quar Dilara, who I’d normally expect you to defeat easily. As it is, we’re going to have to have you piloting one of the extra mechas we’ve brought in while yours is undergoing repairs, and I’ve freed up your calendar of any standing appointments for the next several days so that you can train in triple shifts to get used to it. You’ve already missed over half your training time for the match, so you’ll need to put in the extra work now.”

She finally takes her hands off your shoulders, stepping back to look you over. “Luckily, it seems you weren’t seriously injured in your ill-fated escapade, and there wasn’t a trace of any pirates when we arrived, so you’ve at least saved the family a ransom payment just to be on time for the next match. Now come, daughter, we’re already late.”

She beckons and all the attendant staff fall into step. You don’t have much choice either if you don’t want to get pushed to keep up by deeply apologetic but unrelenting house admin staff.

When you get a free moment and eventually see the datapad, you’ll have this information

Opponent: Quar Dilara
Mecha: Lightning Chaser

Known statistics:
Power: ***
Speed: *****
Defense: *

Pilot profile:
Quar Dilara is one of the more junior Zaldarian knights competing in the tournament. Relatively little is known of her technique. Early matches involved mostly the use of high speed and high-firepower long-range laser weaponry, proving evasive for her opponents. Further defensive measures have not been identified. Her mecha is relatively small for Zaldarian standards and likely has lighter defensive shielding given the amount of power dedicated to engines and active offensive weaponry.

Terrain information:
Your battlefield will be fought below an orbital platform in zero G.
The platform itself will have several shafts and ravines, offering high risk cover
Drones will be on-hand to arrest the descent of any mecha that enters freefall. If this intervention is necessary, it will be counted as a loss.

***

Solarel

The flight back was quick, it barely felt like an hour to you, and to the rest of the system of Akar it was not even two full days for the return trip. The Kathresis offers nearly unparalleled rong-range speed in addition to its immediate space. It was barely enough time to even process everything, barely enough time to grow comfortable in your new skin.

The rush was there. Isabelle could be something. If there’s anything to remember from this fight, it was how she came in at first. The way she controlled the nanobots outside the mecha, how for a brief moment it felt like you would have to fight the arena and the mecha together. The seed of potential could grow from that, even though she was too inexperienced today to keep your blades from closing upon her chest and your hand from her throat.

When you get back, there will be many things due to you. You owe a debt to the Boatmen of Styx, you’ve attracted the interest of the Ebon Claw, and of course there is Mirror, surely already busy at work preparing for her next match, never standing still.

You can, perhaps, take pleasure that now that you have a new god to inhabit, the fights will come furiously. You’ll be against a Terenian, Angela Victoria Miera Antonius. She previously fought and lost to a newly debuted Hybrasilian whose mecha claims godhood in a manner distinct from the Zaldarian gods. But she has since upgraded her Terenian gen 2 mecha with some new tricks and will be a fierce opponent, just as you surely will be despite your prior loss in the rankings.

You receive the following:
Opponent: Angela Victoria Miera Antonius
Mecha: Barn Owl (modified)

Known statistics:
Power: **
Speed: ***
Defense: ****

Pilot profile:
Angela learned on an older mecha and has kept to the model, upgrading the internals several times while maintaining the same chassis. Her previous loadout involved the use of multiple autocannons and a paired set of wrist blades. This proved unequal to the task of defeating a strong melee Hybrasilian mecha wielding an ionic spear. She has recently made several repairs to her mecha, which likely include weapon upgrades some of which may not be immediately apparent.

Terrain information:
Your battlefield will be fought in a mountainous bowl region. The interior is fairly flat and will provide an arena with few impediments for a direct fight. The borders stretch high and will present obstacles including potential low visibility weather to any mecha that attempts a mid-combat flight through them.

***

Dolly (and Jade)

You get to see the sunrise on Akar Prime. It’s beautiful, sitting on the balcony of one of the tall buildings. You may spend a lot of time in the Hangar with Jade, but one of the perks of being a competition pilot for both of you is the option for nice short-term rooms. Atop a tall tower, with a balcony, even various stimulant drinks in the room for you (the staff have learned enough not to poison a Hybrasilian with the standard Terenian fare, even if they’re still a little mystified).
So you get to wake up to the sunrise, the slight reddish light of Akar’s sun cresting over the stark brown cliffs that form the horizon. Though the city extends for miles and miles, it doesn’t reach the skyline, so you get to see the rich rock that brought anyone to settle here in the first place as the reddish light creeps along it, slowly painting over the swirling purples of night.

It’s a time to catch your breath and to plan. Or perhaps to thrill in secret with nobody to watch you. The Red Banders weren’t lying after all. You’re up against Erys Bander in the next match. From all appearances, she’s a brute and a bully who loves throwing her bulk around against her opponents. But you can read her profile for yourself. Of course, nothing in the profile is going to have anything in it about what the Banders might do to ward themselves against Jade’s curses. You’ll have to puzzle that one out yourself.

Opponent: Erys Bander
Mecha: Hybrasilian script: [The unrelenting grip of the stone goddess Dishai], shorthanded to Crushing Grasp.

Known statistics:
Power: *****
Speed: **
Defense: ***

Pilot profile:
Erys is currently undefeated in matches. Her combat style is close range although her mecha is not particularly fast. In her matches to date, she has used a combination of cloaking and terrain advantages to maneuver to short range with her opponents, then deploying extensive capture nets, a powered ionic fist, and a heavy Falchion for her combat. She has thus far eschewed long-ranged weaponry in favor of heavier defensive armor and shields, making her nearly unstoppable if trapped up close.

Terrain information:
Overgrown Cityscape. Buildings have been constructed to be covered with heavy vines and roots. The largest structure will be a multi-level garage with interior space adequate to house most mecha. Open but grassy avenues will be available between buildings, or a pilot can choose to fly above the terrain for better visibility in exchange for exposing themselves from below.

***

Mirror

For a moment, Matty doesn’t get it. She sits, being polite as she’s fed, reveling in the experience. Then it hits her and there’s a muffled gasp that she quickly snaps short. Her blush, if anything, grows even stronger in your arms. She’s still being fed and she tries to focus on that, but she’s progressively more squirmy in your lap. Slate has to give her a little tap on the head to get her to focus on finishing her food, before going back to your conversation like she’s the most expert parent in the world.

She can feel Matty fidgeting in your lap. First it’s slow, slight adjustments on your leg, trying to balance while she’s being fed but not sticking to any one position. These are the sort of little bits of pressure that you can address with a slight shift of your arm or your leg to keep her balanced without breaking any of the conversation.

As Slate finishes feeding her, she bites her lip, then has to unbite it as Slate continues to clean her off without stopping in stride, using a gentle nudge to get her to reveal the parts of her mouth she’s hiding for cleaning. She can feel her legs wiggle underneath you as it happens Mirror, but she’s a good girl who’s too little to say anything and lets herself just be handled by Slate as you talk over her.

When you get to the talk about having to replace parts on the tail because of its burnout, she lowers her head and leans forward, trying not to say anything, trying not to break the spell. But she’s so wiggly Mirror! She’s leaning forward and back, she’s rocking, she’s squirming, she’s kicking her legs, and there’s a slow whine building inside her!

Then, only then when she’s can’t hold it in anymore does it burst out of her. “Aaaaah, we can fix it!” Then she looks up guiltily and runs the hand that isn’t being held down by your armor through her hair.

“Um…I…” she wiggles her legs, hesitates, decides she just has to go for it, even sitting in your lap. You might imagine that she had something like a presentation planned, maybe some notecards in her bag somewhere, a question and answer period. Instead she’s just been fed dumplings and she starts going while looking back and forth between Slate and craning her neck up to look at you, Mirror.

“Um, the proposal that Trosta and I came up with is to install new power regulators on all the tails. They would be…um…tied to a central control unit that’s linked to your control station, but that you wouldn’t be able to directly manipulate. I mean, um, of course you could have the engineering team pull it open and change it, but this was your request for um…for limitations so so Trosta said you wouldn’t. And um…right so the way it has a simple AI that measures your actions and looks for variety. And it won’t activate all the tails at once, it will randomize three that you get at the start and the rest won’t get any power. And then as you do different um…moves it will let you know when a new tail is ready to be activated, and then you’ll need to use that to activate more. So um…s-so over a fight you’ll start with very few options and it might be really hard against a tough opponent, but Trosta thought you wouldn’t mind that, and then as you do stuff you’ll get stronger and stronger until you can do a whole big finishing move and um…aaaaaah!”

She gestures as she starts getting into it, ending with a wild lift of her arms that almost unbalances her, causing her to tilt over and suddenly grab onto Mirror tightly with a two handed bear hug around the chest so she doesn’t fall over. She blushes, but also grins from getting through it all, big and wide and happy at her cool reveal!

***

Much later, when you’ve saved the extra dumplings, washed the dishes, and Matty has drifted off to sleep, you’ll get your match details.

Opponent: Heim Stockar
Mecha: Blast Wall

Known statistics:
Power: ****
Speed: *
Defense: *****

Pilot profile:
Heim Stockar was previously a feared Zaldarian raider before the building of the Arena. He has somewhat avoided arena combat to date, sending various younger lieutenants from his hold to compete, but has personally entered this year’s tournament. Thus far, his matches have involved defensively enduring his opponent’s onslaught with a combination of armor, force fields, and a shield. He then either retaliates with missiles when they leave themselves open at a distance, or with his spear if they attempt to close and fight up close.

Terrain information:
Colosseum. Your match will take place in a constructed and enclosed arena space built above the forest.
It will form a large multi-story dome allowing for flight but limiting overall maneuvering space
The sides will have uneven stands, while the center is flat, encouraging direct combat.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

"Hanaha!" Giri shouts, throwing the catgirl into a strong-armed headlock. "It's been so long!"

What is dignity in all this? In the face of even the slight risk of a greater demon being freed and rampaging about the camp? What is dignity in the face of this spirit who has already humiliated Giri in every encounter? Dignity finds itself stood next to responsibility and utterly dwarfed, as the tree at the foot of a mountain.

And beyond that, this responsibility is also freeing. The true virtue of the N'yari, that proper relations to them are to let yourself go, to wrestle wildly, let them tear your clothes and roll in the mud and damn who might be watching. If she'd only learned all this earlier, much grief could have been saved. And if she could manage things now, there was much grief still to save. The Flower Kingdoms deserved to have their wildness preserved!

As for the scribe, she deserved to see this too. She especially. She deserved to see Giri's muscles heave and watch the witch sweat as she wrestled a proper N'yari. The scribe deserved to watch Giri roll in the mud, her hair loose, her clothes ragged, her breath coming hot and fast, even as the other combat matched it. Fengye ought to have the opportunity to look closely as cat and girl strained against each other for her, pressed and fought and tumbled because of her machinations and machinations of Heaven on her behalf. Is this something that could fill the hole that Giri saw in her heart, the boundless craving?

[Rolling to Entice Fengye. 6+1+2=9. She can decide to offer the string or react.]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Dolly and Jade

The Red Banders listen carefully, closely. Erys smiles, really actually smiles at the special note offered to her. It’s the only time she’s smiled the whole time she’s been there in fact. She’s been the big boss, dour, almost a little glum. She hadn’t expected Valynia to steal the show from her, hadn’t been mad either, but it had taken attention off of her and her swagger. Now she was the one being taunted, dared to come hard, and she was extremely into it.

When Dolly is done speaking, they do as they’re told. They move as a group and cleanse themselves in the nearby basin offered for Jade’s worship. The crew watches them closely, some of them at least beginning to relax and return to their work. Jade has handled things, Dolly has handled things, everyone is moving according to the script they’re supposed to, so they can relax a little. Nine Forests keeps watch though, just in case.

When they’re done, the Banders bring their offerings. They noticed Dolly’s slip, but still do as instructed for the moment. They deposit them before Jade’s feet one after another. Each of them brought a different offering for a goddess, all traditional. They are Hybrasilians above their factional loyalties after all. Jade is left with several sticks of incense, a bolt of cloth in maroon with bright yellow diamonds set in two lines along its top and bottom, an offering of some kind of meat with the bone still in, and (most precious) a necklace of several pieces of lapis lazuli on a short gold chain offered by the Leopard, Valynia. This, she had not originally intended to offer, but she took it off and added it to the pile when they parted, knowing the crew would remark on it.

***

Mirror

You can feel Matty relaxing as things are explained, sitting in your lap as she is, head pressed against your chest. It’s a lot. She nods a few times. When Slate explains how her heart being on her sleeve is helpful, she makes an “rrrr” noise that’s a purr of agreement.

When Mirror speaks, Matty turns her head up, just a little, to look at her, wrinkling the robe in the process, but not enough to pull it off, she stops her head before there’s too much feeling of tug, meaning that she’s looking at you out of the corner of her eye, and at Slate out of the other, both in peripheral vision, neither centered.

“I…mmm, I like this.” She brushes her head lightly against Mirror’s chest. “And I’m glad you’re not going to try and push me out” that’s more to Slate, acknowledging that they’re not fighting over this. “I um…yeah the rest is a lot, but I’m happy to…to be here like this. And um…I’d like some…um…some dumplings and…and…”

Well she almost got through it all. Poor thing’s blushing beneath her fur, she’s warm enough to feel it the embarrassment, Mirror. She absolutely wants to be fed those dumplings by Slate before getting to the technical stuff, but in the face of actually directly asking for that she’s struggling to get the words out. She never dreamed she’d just be here and able to ask for what she wants. Utterly ridiculous!

***

Isabelle

You’re starting to get a picture of things. The facility guardian being defeated and it dropping into low power made it more sluggish to respond to you. But now you’re fighting, commanding the local nanobots, activating emergency power, activating the need for future repairs, so systems are at least in motion.

You understand Tate within the mecha somewhat more clearly than without, like it designed to enhance this kind of interface. The facility AI is relatively simple. It does not know what the Trak’tho hoped to get, it doesn’t understand intentions as such. The question is interpreted as re-showing you some information you already saw. The facility is for scientific experimentation, with sections divided into weapons testing, the mecha bays, other science facilities, and the biology and chemistry experiments being run within the caves. This is what the Trak’tho designated it for, this is what the facility systems are built to support. New races do not have relevance to this except insofar as an experiment concerns them, which none actively currently do. Perhaps if a Trak’tho returned and updated it, that would change.

As for being the facility guardian, the position is now vacant, but that doesn’t give you any special access. You could get it though. Just…not in the heat of battle. You’d need to sit down, review the designations and powers held by the guardian, see which ones you could assign, possibly move around the facility and add manually certain authorization geists to your mecha, then use those to assign additional rights to yourself until you’ve reconstructed the full role of facility guardian. It would take some time, might wreck some equipment, but the facility would be yours afterwards and other visitors your guests.

However, there’s something more pressing right in front of you. Solarel’s blades, her prowess. Can you handle her? If you are defeated, even gently, you will not have the tools at your disposal to become facility guardian, nor the time to see it done. You must be the sole master of this place. Is that a reason worth risking this dangerous fight? For that matter, do you even believe you can do it, or are you still too novice in this new form to withstand her?

***

Solarel

The next move is Isabelle’s. You are poised to strike, but how you strike, where you strike, when you strike will depend on her. You will soon see whether you face the fledgling or the falcon, and what sort of dance you’ll have as a result.

You may perhaps remark in this moment of waiting that Crescent and Annika are at last leaving. A welcome relief?

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Giri short - the danger of being a young witch

When Giriel was around fifteen, she felt like all her interest in her mom’s work, in the witch stuff she was doing wasn’t enough for her. She was fifteen after all, which is a typical age for questioning the boundaries of your world, and her mother had been somewhat careful, having a witch in training, to stick mostly to the countryside.

They had spent a year with the N’yari just before this, but Giri felt like she’d somehow missed out on the time. Her mom was honored among them, and also distant. Mom made a point of never fighting, never flexing, never being weak enough to be tied up or kidnapped but never starting the confrontation that would have forced her to overthrow someone else or be overthrown.

Giri had followed along, but she hadn’t understood it. Witches are special was about the extent of the lesson. She didn’t think the N’yari were reasonable, after all, she’d heard too many stories from too many farmers, and she’d seen them fighting and worshipping, drinking and dancing and sweating. Heard them too. They just didn’t involve her or her mom, and Mom liked it that way. Giri, being a dutiful daughter, simply followed along, matched the example. Mixed potions and did chores and cast simple spells for healings and blessings that the N’yari needed.

Then they left, and she felt like she’d wasted a year and hadn’t made a single friend. It hurt inside her. Was being a witch nothing but being everyone’s babysitter? Was she limited to just raising the younger kids, and giving the old men potions for their warts? She wasn’t a jerk, the old men needed wart potions, it made them a lot more comfortable and she understood that was a good thing to do! It just wasn’t…it wasn’t satisfying her and she felt like her heart was burning inside her chest.

So, of course, she did the thing that one does at age 15 in the countryside: she tried to seduce a young shepherdess. Not that she’d have put it that way! She was treating the sheep, they were in the rough, mountainous sections of the flower kingdoms, far from where most people lived. Giri met someone her age, they hit it off, she thought it was fun, spent more time together and, well, let’s back up.

Families were spread apart out here, a single house and then miles of fields all about. Giri and her mom were living with a family her mom knew from the past. A couple, now middle-aged, their son, age twenty, his wife, and their new baby. Two younger daughters, 15 and 12. And two old grandmothers who’d both lost their spouse. They had a house set just below a little cliff side in the mountains. The top of the cliff had one little old pine tree on it that was one third the size it ought to be because its roots had cut their way into the rock and they couldn’t get as big as they should, making it a natural bonsai. Below the cliff, the house sat in a little flat section of land that allowed for a few fruit trees and a barn before hitting the main path and leading back to the evergreens that wound their way down the mountain. They were on the east side of the mountain, so they got morning sun and the trees thrived well enough alongside the sheep pens. The mountain path wound past their house, dipping into valleys in either direction before winding up again, so they had to take the sheep each day to graze in the valleys and then bring them back up the road at night.

The family offered Giri and her mother free room and board in exchange for some simple magics. Easing the backaches of the old ladies, healing an injured sheep, and so forth. Some of the days, Giri and her mom would go together down one of the paths and walk a few miles to the next farmstead, offering their services for a little coin. On the weekends, they’d take a longer route, almost six miles to reach the nearest proper flower village, where they’d offer their services in the market, rain or shine.

It hadn’t taken long for them to divide and conquer. Mom would go one route, Giri the other, and they’d only go together on the weekends for the market. Giri was fifteen, already big and strong, and her mom was coming to grips that she needed to give her daughter more space and freedom, so this all seemed to line up.

So, Giri found herself leaving in the mornings with the older daughter, her name was Mizi. She’d be herding the sheep out to the valley, Giri to make the hike to the next farmstead. Mizi hadn’t had that big of a life. The most exciting thing she knew about was how to figure out which mushrooms were edible, which ones would kill you, and which ones you could eat a few of to make the world shift beneath you. She had the cutest black hair though, with just a hint of blue sheen that told you someone in her family had been from the sea folk long ago. And when she laughed, her cheeks would lift up and she would close her eyes like she was in ecstasy.

Giri loved making her laugh, lived for it on their morning walks. Started looking for gifts to bring her on the way home. First flowers for her hair, which she’d braid in at the temple sometimes. Then food. Giri brought some honey once, and some jams that one of the farmers had given her but that she kept secret for just the two of them to each in the field (her mom had been disappointed that she hadn’t brought back more that day, pickings had been light). Then she started getting more esoteric. She made things for Mizi. First a special shampoo with just a hint of magic to make her hair bounce, then some potions to try. She liked the mushrooms, so Giri made her something to see the little spirits that dwell all around and animate the rocks and trees and the weather and such, which was spectacular. Then it was a bargain with a spirit to carry them up to the mountaintop for the afternoon where they kissed as the cool breeze whistled past and the little pine tree kept the afternoon sun from troubling them.

For Giri, this was a little slice of heaven. Having the days with Mizi made the rest of her work bearable. She could keep her eyes open as she traveled for special ingredients for her spells, and that made being a witch a lot more fun than just healing sheep and making wart potions.

It was the N’yari that caused them trouble. A raiding party coming through the mountain trails spotted the two lovers giggling in a meadow, along with several choice sheep. The raiders took them unawares. They weren’t the same ones that Giri and her mom had stayed with before, and didn’t know they’d found a witch. They’d bound and gagged the both of them, taking them along with several sheep as a well-earned prize. Giri had to admit that she enjoyed being slung over a N’yari’s back with Mizi, but she was worried. She worried that they’d be found out, that her mother would be mad, that Mizi’s parents would be even more mad! She worried about the rest of the sheep, and the family. And she worried that Mizi would think she was stupid and worthless because she hadn’t been able to protect her.

By the time they were in the N’yari camp, Giri was beside herself. She’d been drawing symbols in blood on her own wrist with her nails as they’d travled and when the N’yari finally let them down, Giri struck. She stomped her foot and shouted “you, how dare you! We. Were. Busy!” And she let out a breath as a demon formed in front of her out a small whirlwind of butterflies and the sky grew dark.

She wasn’t ever supposed to use this magic, not even in defense. Witches learned demon summoning because you needed the principles to do demon Unsummmoning, and because a controlled demon summon did offer access to various sorts of knowledge and magical ingredients. But this was not a controlled demon summoning. The butterfly demon wasn’t even especially powerful as demons go, just a tiny facet of the soul of a facet of the soul of a facet of the soul of the great desert wind that blew unceasing through the hells.

But she was enough. N’yari raiders yowled and grabbed spears. The sky grew darker and clouded blocked the sun. Giri grabbed Mizi and ran as fast as she could, pulling her girlfriend along. Bloody ruins on Giri’s arm glowed with a slow pulsing for miles, until, presumably, the N’yari dispatched the demon and they faded, leaving darkened scabs.

When they finally got back to the fields and caught their breath, they found the sheep scattered, and Giri found Mizi weeping. “What was that? What was that?” She screamed, looking at Giri with terror in her eyes. Then she felt ashamed of her terror, and at the same time full of her terror and she cried again, hiding her face in her arm, her dress dirty and torn from the flight.

Giri didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t, this wasn’t how anything had been meant to go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was…trying to defend Mizi. She was trying to protect both of them. They could have been kidnapped a whole year! She didn’t want…she didn’t know. And being ashamed and being fifteen, she grew angry and proud and so said nothing as they got back.

Returning empty-handed and late they were met first with relief, and then with fear. Giri’s mother full well recognized the scabs on the arm and whisked her daughter away. Mizi simply cried in her parents’ arms.

When they were alone, outdoors in a cliff overhang down the path, Giri’s mother looked at her. For a moment her eyes were soft and shone with pity. But then she sighed and looked away. “We’ll need to leave” she said. “You stay here, I’ll get our things.” Then she left, came back a while later with all their travel bags, water skins, and a sack of food. “…did anyone die?” She asked, as they began walking down the mountain trail, and Giri could only say “I don’t know, I….we ran before I saw.” And then here Mother said nothing for a long time, which made Giri’s heart hurt fit to burst.

At last, she couldn’t contain herself, and stopping beneath a pine as the sun was setting, she turned to her mother. “What was I supposed to do?! I was in love with her and, we were taken, and tied up, and I couldn’t, I didn’t know what else to do!”

And all her mother said was “I know. When I did it, I stayed. Five N’yari were wounded. One won’t ever walk again. I was lucky.” She sighed again. “Being a witch means we don’t get the luxury of letting ourselves feel that strongly. If you get overcome, if you want something so badly that you stop caring about anything else, it will kill someone. I know you already knew the risks. But now you’ve seen them. Maybe…that will help.”

Then she shook her head and shouldered her pack, leaving Giri to her thoughts as the rain began to fall in the mountains.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Perhaps, if Giriel were herself a daughter of Heaven and rightful heir to the thrones of this world, she would step into the camp and shout, her voice full of thunder, for all of them to stop their foolishness at once. It's what she wishes she could do, even as part of her sees it as the greatest hubris.

She is, however, not such a daughter of Heaven, and she has no such power. Nor would she offer Zhaojun her own flesh under any circumstances. If she could get the mask to the Banneret, she would do that too and then let them all be tied up and taunted by N'yari. What a small price indeed to set Heaven's affairs aright!

She glances at the combat again. No, she would not interfere. She knew N'yari, at least ones who weren't secretly heavenly spirits in disguise. Trying to stop their combat would cause chaos. Breaking the ritual, several would likely interfere, the General might even have an easier time breaking free. The last thing in the world that Giri wanted was to make this space look more like a chaotic melee or heaven forfend a battlefield.

So instead, she calls out a greeting to the gathered N'yari as she steps into the camp. Nevermind the Banneret, let her make a fool of herself. Giri is here openly, a guest, an arrival, a witch. "I am the witch, Giriel Bruinstead, at your service" she calls, and bows in the N'yari custom. She is looking for who is in charge, who will come to her and ask what she's doing and tell her of what's going on. It might be the N'yari currently fighting, it often is. No problem if that's the case, let's see who she gets instead or if that even stops the fight briefly.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Valynia Bander, Once Huntress, whose star name is Gifted of Oaxacala

Today has been a good day.

Your heart beats in your chest. The jaguar priestess was so full of life. The way you feel together, you could feel the thump of her racing heart and the heat of her breath upon your face. It made your own heart race, your tail flick. It made you want to hold her close to you, to watch that whole body tense and relax as you drew your fangs along the neck, just enough to draw a drop of blood but no deeper, the scent intoxicating.

And yet, the goddess before you has threatened to crush the very stars that bless you, and you have come unprepared for such a threat. Your parents taught you to respect the gods, and though you have flown far from home and seen many suns, you have never lost that respect. The goddess of the hunt has blessed your eyes and your arms, but she is not here now to protect you and when Erys suggested this little visit, nobody thought to bring wardings.

Truth be told, the majority guess had been that they’d simply swagger in, ask the goddess her blessing, intimidate the engineering staff a little, and walk out with a good sense of the chassis and how easily the staff would be to manipulate later. Jumping up to the causeway when you caught sight of the priestess had been an impulse play. But you can’t say you regret it.

As you pad down the stairs, the taste of her hand lingers in your mouth, and in your ears echo the last words she spoke to you: I know her. Those were intimate words, words of a priestess most favored of her unique goddess. You’d take her symbolism, give it to Erys for her next match, see if they couldn’t bend that goddess in knots. If you all also sought the goddess of the hunt’s blessing of protection, then this lesser goddess wouldn’t be able to interfere spiritually either, only her body would be a threat in the ensuing combat.

Your tail flicks with the thought of it. Yes, let her rail and cry. But for all her threats she was a new goddess, lesser than the great pantheon of Hybrasil, and even they had at times been bound. The Red Band loved the story of when the goddess Macheka blessed her champion with a unique spiritual rope to surprise and bind her rival Caloa. Caloa had spent thirty nights and seven bound by the mortal before she had prostrated herself and bargained for her freedom, offering exaltation among the gods to the girl, now the goddess Irtana.

Now though, you have the unenviable task of convincing all your sisters to prostrate themselves. Perhaps if the goddess commanded it directly, they would all obey quickly enough, but this intercession is one only you heard.

You start with Erys of course, pulling her aside out of earshot in the hangar door, leaving the other four so they know you’re not leaving and explaining what was asked. Erys laughs of course, tells you not to be so superstitious, but you can see her eyes dart side to side as her instincts look for a safe place to leap to at the thought, and all it takes is you pointing out that this will give the whole Band good reason to seek “compensation” later and she’s in. She manhandles the rest for you as you return to the hangar space, and you all prostrate yourselves to the goddess, heads down, butts up, on your knees before her.

She’ll never see that you can’t quite keep the wicked grin off your face at all the fun you’re going to have with her priestess once you’ve got her. It will be you, of course. Erys may have the next match, but that means you’re free to lead the kidnapping afterwards.

Yes, today has been a good day indeed.

***

Mirror

There’s something about the tone and the smoothness as you bring her in that really gets Matty’s buy-in. Maybe she wants to buy in too, likes the fantasy and imagining the world as full of scary but also adventurous and exciting things. Either way, she meeps when you suggest the pirates, then blushes and comes in quickly and contritely, barely managing a squeaked hello. Her hand closes on the drink mechanically, and she takes a sip to help gather herself without even thinking about it.

Then she’s set up to give an introduction to Slate. She thinks for a moment, then bless her heart, offers a curtsy even though she’s in an engineering suit and holding a drink in one hand. “Um…h-hi. My name is Mattara Swimmer, Eight Cigni, but you can call me Matty. I work at Trosta’s armory on Akar II. I learned engineering back on Hybrasil, but I…um, never quite fit in there and I wanted to see more of the world, so when I heard they were recruiting Hybrasilian engineers here I thought it would be nice. And um I met…(she blushes here, remembering sitting with Mirror and being petted) Mirror earlier when she was visiting Trosta’s where I work, which um, I already said. She invited me here after I was done and also, um, since I was visiting anyway, Trosta sent me with some blueprint ideas for what she came up with. It’s pretty neat, I think. I helped!”

She grins, stopping there for a moment. She isn’t sure if she should just launch into the work stuff and is kind of hoping Slate will do a little self-intro in response of some kind. Maybe Mirror too for that matter, there wasn’t a lot of time before. She glances over, then covers the awkward silence by taking another long sip of her drink. She honestly seems like she’d be comfier sharing her thoughts from your lap, Mirror, but she’d also die of embarrassment at even the thought of suggesting it with your colleague present.

***

Solarel and Isabelle

Annika and Crescent bound their way up the floors after you. Crescent leaps on all fours and Annika bounds with great jumps that belie the strength of her thin frame compared to Solarel. You’re in the upper levels of the facility now, great holes gouged in the floors and all nearby nanobots too busy responding to Isabelle’s defense to engage in any repairs of the materials, leading the whole thing to look like a giant sheet of paper that someone punched a hole through the middle of. Bits of supercooled metal and rock are already scattered about from the ascent and initial defense.

The two watchers are barely gnats though, and they clearly don’t plan to intervene. They’re here to gather data and are enjoying themselves immensely.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Dolly
You see the Leopard hesitate. Her hand atop you goes stiff. For a moment all her muscles ripple and you’ve got nothing to think about but the scent of her sweat and the sound of her breathing. Instinct wars in her, the closeness to you, the desire to touch to press even as Jade’s words froze her.

Then she stands.

Jade

Your words echo out. Below the gangway the crew trembles and so do some of the Banders, but not all of them. Not the Jaguar who claims to be facing Dolly, she’s looking intently. And the Leopard…for a moment you’re not sure what she’s going to do. Not sure what else you could say to move her. You can tell she’s having a physical reaction to being near Dolly, you’re aware of Hybrasilian biology, so you wait and your patience is rewarded.

She stands.

Dolly and Jade

“Forgive me, priestess.” The Leopard smiles. Everything about her screams wild energy, just barely restrained. She slowly takes your hand, glancing up at Jade to ensure she has not erred. Lifts it and kisses the back of your palm, just barely nipping the skin with her fangs. “I presumed overmuch” she says formally, the way her parents must have taught her. “And I beg your forgiveness.”

She waits, then for your intercession. But see the Banders below, how their eyes shine. Jade’s threat is in the open. A threat to their birth stars, yes, a very serious threat in response to her high priestess being under threat. See them considering their mythology. Think back on your own Hybrasilian mythology. If the high priestess is this valuable, her symbolism will be a ward against Jade’s wrath in the future. If the high priestess is this valuable, her absence would cause the goddess great lamentation. If the high priestess is this valuable, then there may be other priestesses to set against her, and other gods who would favor the Banders. Hybrasilians always have favored freedom and many a goddess would offer her favor and protection to those who hunt with no restraint, seeking victory with all their might.

Well, high priestess, what is your intercession?

***

Mirror

Slate frowns when you tell her of the sounds. She’s sitting now like a lily suspended on the water, both legs up on the cushions, head up, lost in thought.

“How would they know? The Hangar’s full of engineers. There’s gonna be buzzing and clanging. There will be the low rumble of the transports, and the pounding of mecha feet steel upon steel.”

You can see Slate losing herself in the sound of the hangar, the experience of it. There’s a song in her head, a quickening one. “The lights hum in B flat minor, slightly out of tune, you hear it going all the time, but you tune it out. The chatter fades into a hum, rising and falling, there’s a crescendo to it, matching the timing of the shuttles, concentrating and spreading. There’s the hum of the crystal fire, muted, but you can feel it even through all the protection, the power coursing through each metal shell, giving it life.”

She’s vibrating as she thinks. You can see her thinking in tune to the life in the Hangar, the days spent on repairs, supervising crews, standing on the balcony and feeling the space waft up to her.

“Timing. It’s not the sound, it’s not that you couldn't hear anything there, but the timing would be off. There’d be something discordant, not in line with the rhythms of the space, someone changing the space, right, they have to do that constantly, it won’t rise and fall the way that people move normally. That’s what we’ll ask the crew, if there was something nagging them, the mosquito of the Hangar.”

She opens her eyes, looks at you, Mirror. “Can’t say there’s nothing I’m good at. I’ll leave questioning the criminal underworld to you when you feel like it, boss. I’ll talk to the crew tomorrow. There’s figuring this out and there’s preventing it happening again. And I don’t think a lock on the cockpit will do the trick, even a really good one.”

She grins, and that’s when you hear a knock at the door. Matty’s arrived, finished with her work. She’s dressed in her uniform still, full body suit with no fabric to get in the way while she’s working. Seems like she decided to come straight here without changing once she got off work. If you look through the door, you’ll see her standing with her feet close together, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and rocking her whole body nervously, her hair swaying a little with each shift above her mottled swimming cat stripes on tan fur. One hand by her side, the other raised but hesitant, unsure how long to wait before she knocks again.

***

Isabelle and Solarel

No warnings flash. These are both mechas of the same facility, there is no reason that their creators know that they would be pitted against one another. They are too precious for such work. Perhaps this is why the spirit risked itself rather than one of these machines.

Nevertheless, an unknown mecha closing from above finds itself suddenly passed, met by a freezing blast from above and newly forged munitions before it makes its descent. A small mecha like this doesn’t have the armor to take such a blow, but the crystal fire drive is as strong as they come and has fewer jobs to do with such a small size frame. Thus the descending mecha, the Enkindler, has speed and shielding for the defense, and a blade newly forged to retaliate.

Let us see the fight.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Solarel

Shards shards shards

The whole world is glass and you are steel. There is no ceremony, there is no glory. The spirit understands its defeat. It struck in desperation, knowing it was already lost, and took the full brunt of your golden blade. Everything that it was dissipated into so much electrostatic radiation.

You rest now in the Kathresis. For a blessed moment, everything is still and silent. The cave moss has no words of congratulations to offer you, nor the dim lights that remain any flicker or hum.

After a moment, above you, peeking over the hole that is now the ceiling, is Annika Nornsdottr and Crescent, the cat from before. Annika is shouting, trying to gain your attention, asking if it’s safe to come down. She looks excited, but small. Crescent is at a wary ease, seeing no motion or combat.

They would congratulate you, if you would accept it. This is everything they hoped would happen, if perhaps not in this manner.

Or perhaps you simply wish to leave now. None may stop you.

***

Isabelle
You can feel the facility beginning to shut down. It has lost its animating force. You still have access controls, indeed you’re the only one exercising control over facility equipment at the moment, but your role is not senior enough to keep the facility in full operation. It’s going down to minimal viable systems, low lights and basic maintenance only.
You’re in the hangar. The remaining flight-ready mecha is there. It has no name, just a numerical designation in the system logs, X-S-337. Command and it will open for you. Local nanobots in your immediate vicinity continue to be responsive to your needs, the gestures are working like a charm. Except the lava floors, apparently that’s an energy level beyond the nanobots. Their disassembly has to do with minute filament materials that can be pulled apart and reassembled in different shapes, they do not produce adequate heat or other power output to melt industrial metal.

Are you really so unlucky? To be sure, nobody currently here cares over-much about you. Perhaps Solarel will come looking? But nobody else. Yet even so, here you are on an alien planet that barely anybody has explored, finding a facility of a lost species that barely anybody knows about, and you’ve got a direct technology interface for…some reason that probably bears contemplation later and a new, if small, mecha that you can claim. It’s not exactly the set of things you wanted, but… Or perhaps you feel more petulant than that and remain disappointed that the dreams you had for such adventure did not go as you planned?

In any event, you still have your map, you can get to Solarel, Annika, and Crescent as you please, or take the mecha back to the shuttle. Or simply leave at this point. The immediate world is your oyster, though the consequences of all this will ripple outwards upon your return. What do you do now?

***

Dolly and Jade
She’s a strong one, this leopard. You could probably have realized that when she leapt up to the scaffolding. She likes being pressed too, likes that you’re trying to lift her. It’s a challenge, it’s a game, it’s the thrill of the hunt in her spirit.

You’ve heard of the Red Band before. Freedom, freedom above all else is their motto. Their rules are the simplest rules: don’t kill your own, don’t steal from your own, but beyond that they fight and they play, they kidnap, they brand. And everyone else in the universe is fair game for them.

It doesn’t seem like the leopard had been planning a tussle when she leapt up. She’d made a spot, gotten excited, moved to draw attention. But now that you’ve provoked her…her tail flicks in excitement and she shifts her weight on her feet, suddenly leaning into your pull, overbalancing the both of you, causing Dolly to tumble backward, the leopard landing on top. Her strong hand is on your chest, she can feel your heart beating.

The others move to prevent any of your engineers from rushing up the steps, led by the Jaguar who claimed to be your next opponent.

“I think I should take you, cutie. It would send a lesson to all our opponents not to underestimate the Red Band. And you’d look so good strung up inside my cockpit."

She smiles and it’s baring teeth, but her eyes flick up to the mecha chassis. She wants Dolly, but she also wants a rise out of Jade. She wants to see what it means for the goddess to bare fangs. This is all impromptu of course, this doesn’t have the feeling of a heavily thought-through plan, it has the feeling of improvisation by a bunch of cats who are supremely confident in themselves.

How do you respond to this sacrilege?

***

Mirror

It’s dumplings for days. Or at least two solid meals. The delivery person, a young Terenian, was loaded down with a bag stacked high with containers of various meat dumplings so that she could barely even see when she first answered the door. She nearly dropped the bags as you started taking the top ones and she saw you were totally naked. You can see the moment when her eyes dart back and forth as she’s rapidly wondering if this is normal, if she should be embarrassed, if there’s something she doesn’t know about Hybrasilian culture, and perhaps whether it’s rude to double check if there was already a tip for her as part of the payment since she doesn’t see any way for you to offer one.

A blush slowly rises to her cheeks and she quickly hands you the rest of the bags, which smell of steamed meat and some kind of shellfish. Enough to make your mouth water.

Slate starts taking things, laying them out in the small room, spooning some noodles onto a plate that she starts slurping greedily, followed by a satisfied burp.

“Alright Mira, you can dress after we finish eating, if you feel like it. But meanwhile, tell me about the sabotage. That was why you went there originally, right? Talk to a Zaldarian with skill in nanobot tech and figure out how somebody could have gotten to the Hangar and to our stuff without any of us being the wiser.”

Slate rests an elbow on the low table where she’s set the food, leans forward intently, munches on a shredded meat bun with her other hand, biting out a third of it so you can see the insides. A drop of sauce almost falls out before she tilts it up so it soaks into the bread instead. “So” she says, swallowing, “you get anything on that front?”

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Solarel

The blades of the Kathresis, your blades, cut through the security drones like they are paper. Formless nanobots fall away from them like leaves, and the air that would make a sound is still as the hush before sunrise.

After a moment, there is a soft hiss as the warmer air around the flash-frozen security drone contacts its surface and undergoes rapid energy transfer. It sounds like the air escaping a sealed container.

The spirit returns to this scene, opening a new hole via the ceiling and bringing with it five more security drones, which immediately begin opening fire. “You…” it says. It’s voice is slow, and you can see the look on its face. Contorted with a mixture of rage and disbelief. In its eyes, you have committed sacrilege. “What have you done?!” it manages, though the drones are already shooting as fast as they’re able. Autocannon fire, older in style than lasers, though equally powerful.

How do you dismantle them?

***

Isabelle

You see a few images of some of the previous fighting. This is in answer to your query about the nanite abilities. The speed and mobility that the spirit initially displayed appears to be the limit. Not all rooms are equally constructed either, the nano bots that can shape the facility are much more effective working the facility metal floors and walls (which are themselves made of metals that are easily manipulated by nanobots) whereas boring a hole in one of the natural cavern rooms would take a considerable amount of time, more than the scale you’re working on.

You see the spirit, Trelasani, pulling various security drones to itself. This is in answer to your second query. Your authority is not higher than the locale’s guardian spirit, you’re an honored guest. The guardian spirit is distracted, but you could not draw resources away from it because it has primacy. The drones themselves are limited, pre-programmed nanobot constructions. Trelasani wasn’t constructing them on the fly previously, just bringing them into position from other locations, construction was limited to exterior coating adjustments for location movement.

You can’t see the shuttle in your facility map, it’s not actually in the facility. It seems like the nanobots here are geofenced, though there are probably various ways to get around that, and that sort of thing can’t be applied to larger mecha.

You understand that nothing happened when you drew a circle because you did not indicate a desire. If you associate a hand gesture with an expected action, the nanobots will follow that. For example, if you want drawing a circle to mean “open a hole within these boundaries” you can specify that and it will work that way.

You may want to hurry to the mecha labs, it’s hard to say how long the guardian spirit will be otherwise engaged.

***

Jade and Dolly

The six Hybrasilians all swagger into the hangar space before Jade’s body. They’re a variety of cat types: two tigresses, a lioness, a leopard, and two jaguars.

They draw up to Nine Forests and the engineering team, getting closer than normal Hybrasilian personal space, but never touching them.

“An inside source says I’ll be your next opponent” the second, taller Jaguar says. “You’ll hear about it officially soon. But I got curious.” She speaks in a drawl that sounds like she’s from one of the further out planets, not a Hybrasil homeworld accent. “You seem a little nervous” she reaches out and pats Nine Forests on the arm, just slow enough that it’s not an obvious threat, claws retracted. Then she grins. “Well, do my girlfriends and I get to come in properly or not? My parents taught me how to worship the goddesses, I’m not a heathen. I promise we won’t steal any of your engineers. This time.” Then she puts her head back and lets out a broad laugh. The others grin and flex.

One of them, the Leopard, flicks her eyes up to Dolly on the catwalk, watching her intently. “That one the high priestess who’s the pilot?” she asks nobody in particular, her long tail flicking behind her in excitement at her catch.

***

Mirror

“Mm, mmm” says Slate, sliding onto the couch next to you. “She sounds like someone special. Someone we’d both have a soft spot for. Prooobably a liability, right, but one that you just can’t resist.”

Slate offers you a hand, holding yours if you’ll take it. “I think I’d like that though. I’ll take a good person, an interesting outcast even if she’s a liability for us. We gotta keep the special ones. You know I’m always up for a project, Mira. You’ve got me double here, gaming out your new system and the new kitten we’ve recruited. Damn, you’re good.” Slate sighs. “Did you know all along I’d be helping you raise a kitten out of this? Cuz if you think I’m always gonna fetch you drinks while you deal with everything…you might be right but I’m going to complain about it, just watch me.” Then she relaxes to let you know she feels comfortable, even if all her doubts aren’t assuaged.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

"Really?!" Giri's eyes go wide and she looks up and down at the Banneret. "Why does she matter so much?! Why has Heaven even intervened here?"

Giri sighs, spits, kicks the dirt, throws up her hands. But there's that extended hand from the Banneret and this is a time limited offer. She glances back over her shoulder at Han and Piripiri. This was frustrating. Why were her obligations always thrown against each other like this?

It's Azazuka that decides it at the end. Azazuka and a bit of observation that made her think Piri wouldn't want her to abandon Azazuka either. Piripiri too had been courteous and thoughtful towards Azazuka earlier, and throughout their time on the barge. Piri was competent, Azazuka was possessed. She was now quite determined to get the Golden Banneret done with her business (ideally without stranding them in the middle of nowhere, but even that was mostly a bonus at this point). Mission Get Azazuka's Body Back was going to be the thing, and Giri thought (hoped, prayed, begged) that her captors would agree with her decision.

So, she took that hand, wherever it might lead. Good luck Piri, good luck Han and Lotus. She hopes it all works out for you, and that maybe the healing circle is even a bit useful if you can figure out what it is.