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Coconut Cascade
6a074c
> Try and get things out of Tal and Ollin. First time you've ever seen people from this side, make the most of it.
“Ollin.” The dwarf sits in his harness, his stubby feet hanging as he rides calmly. Helmut Strauss sits next to him, a light smile on his face. You stand next to them, hanging onto the ceiling rails. Ollin puffs a bit of smoke, a cigarette hanging between his lips. It's clear that his smoking is making everyone else a little uncomfortable. But you'll accept it for now, you've never been one to tell someone to not smoke. He looks at you, curiously. “Have you or any of the dwarves set foot on Farava?”
He shakes his head. “No. My people remain on the island. We try not to make too much contact with the locals. We are not very sociable people. It is hard to trust others.”
“Something happen to your colony?” you ask.
Tal snorts. “The midgets are frequent targets for pirates and slavers. Before you arrived, us folk were guards for them. They give us food and weapons and we protect them.”
“Slavers?” You tilt your head. “There's slavery in this world?”
“I tried to read your history books,” says Ollin. “Yes. There is a slavery. It is partially why we try not to set foot on the mainland. Who knows where we could be sent if we are captured and put into bondage.”
Tal rolls her eyes. “The dwarf thinks hisself is actually worth something.” She leans in across from him, snarling. “Only thing I see is fresh meat!”
“Behave, Tal,” says Espinoza, sitting in the back corner of the hovercraft. All the other doctors shift back and away from Tal towards the other Security Troopers. Tal grumbles, leaning back in her seat, folding her arms.
“Well, regardless, do you two know anything about the mainland? Or about those Guardian Pillar Rocks?” you ask. “I imagine your cultures would have their own myths of creation.” They cock their heads, confused. “You know, how do you think the world was created? Surely the generation before you taught you how this world was made, which was passed on by the previous generation.”
Ollin scratches at his beard, taking more drags off of his cigarette. “The world at large beyond Farava as far as we know is a creation of the Elder Ones. I do know the Legend of Tirofile the World Dragon.” Oh? You kneel down, preparing to pay close attention. Ollin takes his cigarette from his mouth, chewing on his lip a little. “Legend holds that the world before was nothing but fire, lava, and ash, created by a Dragon of immense size! His teeth are said to be as large as trees, his scales harder than bedrock, his breath so intense that you would turned to ash just from a sigh, and that he could stretch across half the world.
“But out of the ashes came the High Elves, and the Elves are said to have been forged from the very fires of the earth itself, blessed with a divine vision to create a world of life. But unfortunately the World Dragon would burn to ash everything they would build and plant. And the High Elves, frustrated by this needless destruction, asked him why. Tirofile said, 'I like the way the world is. If you want to change it, you will have to kill me.'”
Tal, actually somewhat engrossed, asks, “And they killed him?”
Ollin nods slowly, rubbing his beard. “They say the battle to destroy Tirofile was enough to raise mountains and shatter the very skies. The High Elves were the first beings that used magic from birth, and thus they used it to destroy Tirofile. And once dead, the trees and grass sprouted from the soot and the ash, and the seas of lava gave way to oceans of water.”
Doctor Porter leans forward, looking at Ollin. “Amazing! So these High Elves, where are they?”
“I don't know, this is just what I learned,” says Ollin. “Though, they say that Tirofile's corpse is buried within the Draconic Mountains. No one knows for sure though.”
“What about you, Tal?” you ask.
She shrugs. “I dunno. We don't have culture I guess.”
“Sure you do,” says Doctor Porter. “Even lack of culture is culture in of itself.” Tal quirks her brow, confused. “Perhaps it's just you haven't been raised by a generation ahead of you that had any kind of cultural pursuits. Instead you're more of a simple hunter-gatherer society.”
“Eh. Whatever gets food in the belly,” Tal states simply.
“We're landing now!” says the pilot. “Hang on!” You brace yourself. Everyone grabs their things and holds on. There's a noticeable bump as the hovercraft makes landfall on the beach. You can hear the loud thrashing of air from the bigger hovercraft carrying your vehicles as well. This is not the most stealthy approach. But there's no real way to stealthily carry your equipment ashore anyway. “Alright, bail out, bail out!” The Security Troopers help the scientists out via the hatches. Tal jumps up and immediately rushes ahead to explore the area. Mirt on the other hovercraft does the same. They run low to the ground, carrying their FN FALs with them. Espinoza takes your hand, pulling you out of the hatch and helping you down onto the damp sands.
This is a very strange feeling. The feeling of exploring a new world. Five years ago you thought you were too early to explore the stars and too late to explore the continents. Now look at this. “Get the vehicles unloaded, let's go!” yells Sergeant Espinoza. The ramp drops down, and your Mobile Lab and Humvees are slowly brought down onto the beach one-by-one.
Estelle comes over to you, an MP7 hanging below her arm. “Doctor Brown! I'll get Helmut and Ollin in the Mobile Lab! I suggest we find a place to set up the prefabs so we don't have to spend the night with gas masks on!”
“Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it,” you say. “Staff Sergeant.” Espinoza nods. “Get your men loaded up in the Humvees, I want to find a good area to set up a base camp before sundown. Try and-”
“Oi!” You all look up to the top of the beach. Tal waves you all over. “You all might want to take a look at this!”
-
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You, Doctor Porter, Estelle, Ollin, Tal, Helmut, and Sergeant Espinoza stare at the post in front of you. It stood in these grassy fields some few miles from the tall, dark woods ahead of you. It was a wooden stake no more than three meters tall. But upon it were the still hairy scalps nailed to the wood, with maggots festering in the skin. Porter looks pale beneath the gas mask, looking at it. Above the scalps was a sign with red runes written upon it. “What does it say?” asks Sergeant Espinoza.
Tal reads it, squinting at it. “To those who poach on our lands, here are the consequences. Scalped until dead and your bodies used for fodder,” she translates. “The Elves of the Woods do not forgive thieves, poachers, or savages.” She steps back, shrugging. “Some warning.”
“I guess we know why the southern coast then is mostly deserted,” says Estelle. “The Elves guard that land ferociously.”
“I-... I would advise we stay out of there,” says Doctor Porter. “Not to seem hasty but these Elves, as nice as their forest is, seem a little savage.” Fair point.
“We should consider base camp for now,” says Sergeant Espinoza. “Doctor Brown, where are we setting up?”
> “The fishing town isn't too far a drive. Perhaps we can ask they quarter us.”
> “We can set up camp by the river in that clearing.”
> “I'd say we keep driving north until we find a good secluded spot.”
> Other
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