The entirety of a then-uncharted solar system ripples with a vast energetic wave, announcing the end of a long odyssey. To the watchful eyes and ears peering into instruments forever observing their familiar star, they would be alarmed to find the equivalent of an apocalyptic solar flare encroaching to their ultimate destruction. The first suspicion something was out of the ordinary with such apocalypse was when the asteroid belt surrounding said star remained in place, untouched by the supposed flames from a fiery sun, the dread last until the cosmic wave, harmlessly, caresses the worlds orbiting such star. That was just the beginning.
A week later, news of visitors from the other stars began to spread among the higher circles ruling over the communities in this uncharted territory. Optimistic entrepreneurs publicly proclaim the arrival of a golden age; interstellar trade will bring riches beyond imagination to every man, woman and child, and there are even those who say it'll bring fortune for the more barbaric populace. On the other side, wary generals and ardent zealots warn of the coming end of times, brought by a bloodthirsty space empire seeking to to assimilate all and everything in their conglomerate, all for the sake of fighting an even more grueling demonic force.
Only the few that believed that both possibilities, with no respective order or intensity of which, were the ones that spoke the truth. And there was no way to avoid one without doing so with another.
"This is Captain Wanheed speaking on behalf of The Cosmic Pacification Enforcer King's Might and Expeditionary Mercantile Mercator.", at last, the cosmic silence was broken; a weary voice, both authoritative and uninterested, echoed through the open channels of the largest celestial body in the system; Eyremos. "We represent the Planetary Coalition of Eaudeios and we are to-- Ugh, open vast opportunities for the mutual expansion of your culture, fortune and security.", the voice sounds like it was reading off a script recited over a dozen of times. "We come in peace.", it finishes with a sigh.
By the month's end, over a thousand souls were temporarily added to the count of millions of Eyremos. Merchants, scholars, warriors, people from all walks of life spread throughout the many regions of that world despite its fierce authority and the dangers of the wilderness. To some of those souls, Eyremos was a comparable to a paradise. 'Paradise' was a common term for newly found worlds, even though those were already inhabited. However, a fierce folk mingled among the human lives of the brought in the Mercator, which still hovered far above the clouds, peering into the landscape below.
While any major political power would enjoy and abuse enlightened minds, the scholars that touched down in Eyremos found out that the westerner industrial autocracy to be the most comfortable for them. Or at least, the less reluctant. Like all adventures throughout hundreds of millenia, this one begins in a bustling tavern. A young woman in her early twenties talks through the ears of a disturbingly vast audience. With a bright smile partially covered by her unkempt black hair, the woman shares everything about her homeworld, and the many different ones she's been before, sprinkling her own studies about the countless regions, species and anatomy of such in-between. She captivates the old crowd on how she jokes along the many occasionally mocking her, she takes notes of counter-arguments lifted by her 'fellow' scientists, both resident of Eyremos and foreign.
Even the elusive dragon people seemed intrigued by her inquisitiveness and charisma. The only that remained when people started to get frankly tired of it all. Her thoughts are disorganized, she jumbles information and constantly corrects herself. For a young student, she seemed to speak more her mind rather than explain her discoveries.
"Anyway, you see! Grandad left me a vast enough fortune to pay for my own adventure! Like, like, listen to me, what if you always dreamed to go knowthose oh-so-dangerous wild regions? Now what if you're 'gonna make a pretty buck on top of it?! You can't miss this opportunity, you know??", she stomps her boot on a stool, slams her fist on her chest - probably snapping a pen within the pockets of her vest - and proclaims. "I, Ayla Balaban, shall take any, uh, uhm, Eyremonese...? Eyremosi? Eyremosian? Eyeremosian! I shall take you to the journey of your wildest dreams! And all Eauli and Vursakran shall be also paid handsomely to tag along! We will become the pioneers of the colonization of this new world!", and with that, Ayla had just lost the respect of almost everyone in the tavern. "Wait! I didn't mean 'colonize' in that way! I mean! Our culture is obviously superior, you know?? W-We have faster spaceshi-- P-Please, don't! Don't toss that stuff at me, y-you'll ruin my computer!"
A week later, news of visitors from the other stars began to spread among the higher circles ruling over the communities in this uncharted territory. Optimistic entrepreneurs publicly proclaim the arrival of a golden age; interstellar trade will bring riches beyond imagination to every man, woman and child, and there are even those who say it'll bring fortune for the more barbaric populace. On the other side, wary generals and ardent zealots warn of the coming end of times, brought by a bloodthirsty space empire seeking to to assimilate all and everything in their conglomerate, all for the sake of fighting an even more grueling demonic force.
Only the few that believed that both possibilities, with no respective order or intensity of which, were the ones that spoke the truth. And there was no way to avoid one without doing so with another.
"This is Captain Wanheed speaking on behalf of The Cosmic Pacification Enforcer King's Might and Expeditionary Mercantile Mercator.", at last, the cosmic silence was broken; a weary voice, both authoritative and uninterested, echoed through the open channels of the largest celestial body in the system; Eyremos. "We represent the Planetary Coalition of Eaudeios and we are to-- Ugh, open vast opportunities for the mutual expansion of your culture, fortune and security.", the voice sounds like it was reading off a script recited over a dozen of times. "We come in peace.", it finishes with a sigh.
By the month's end, over a thousand souls were temporarily added to the count of millions of Eyremos. Merchants, scholars, warriors, people from all walks of life spread throughout the many regions of that world despite its fierce authority and the dangers of the wilderness. To some of those souls, Eyremos was a comparable to a paradise. 'Paradise' was a common term for newly found worlds, even though those were already inhabited. However, a fierce folk mingled among the human lives of the brought in the Mercator, which still hovered far above the clouds, peering into the landscape below.
While any major political power would enjoy and abuse enlightened minds, the scholars that touched down in Eyremos found out that the westerner industrial autocracy to be the most comfortable for them. Or at least, the less reluctant. Like all adventures throughout hundreds of millenia, this one begins in a bustling tavern. A young woman in her early twenties talks through the ears of a disturbingly vast audience. With a bright smile partially covered by her unkempt black hair, the woman shares everything about her homeworld, and the many different ones she's been before, sprinkling her own studies about the countless regions, species and anatomy of such in-between. She captivates the old crowd on how she jokes along the many occasionally mocking her, she takes notes of counter-arguments lifted by her 'fellow' scientists, both resident of Eyremos and foreign.
Even the elusive dragon people seemed intrigued by her inquisitiveness and charisma. The only that remained when people started to get frankly tired of it all. Her thoughts are disorganized, she jumbles information and constantly corrects herself. For a young student, she seemed to speak more her mind rather than explain her discoveries.
"Anyway, you see! Grandad left me a vast enough fortune to pay for my own adventure! Like, like, listen to me, what if you always dreamed to go knowthose oh-so-dangerous wild regions? Now what if you're 'gonna make a pretty buck on top of it?! You can't miss this opportunity, you know??", she stomps her boot on a stool, slams her fist on her chest - probably snapping a pen within the pockets of her vest - and proclaims. "I, Ayla Balaban, shall take any, uh, uhm, Eyremonese...? Eyremosi? Eyremosian? Eyeremosian! I shall take you to the journey of your wildest dreams! And all Eauli and Vursakran shall be also paid handsomely to tag along! We will become the pioneers of the colonization of this new world!", and with that, Ayla had just lost the respect of almost everyone in the tavern. "Wait! I didn't mean 'colonize' in that way! I mean! Our culture is obviously superior, you know?? W-We have faster spaceshi-- P-Please, don't! Don't toss that stuff at me, y-you'll ruin my computer!"
The young scholar haven't seen such a chaotically brutal scuffle since she proposed, to what was deceptively dubbed a 'multicultural meeting', that lassang and human were once all the same. Her pleas for peace were muffled between the bellowing and roaring amidst the clash of claws and fists. She had her back against the wall, terror twisting her once bright smile. There was no way she could see the usurper of colonialism encroaching towards her, about to strike down this would-be future oppressor of the oh-so poor, poor Konians.
A shriek cuts amidst the fight after a stranger erupts from the cloud and takes down the 'usurper'. "No!! D-Don't fight near me, please! I-It wasn't that bad!!", the woman stands on the tip of her toes, recoiling so much into the walls that she almost merges into the wood boards. But if there was anything scarier than a furious crowd was the broad-shouldered lassang looming towards her. "I... I-I didn't mean it, p-please...", the woman whimpers, sure that those breaths are her final ones.
She doesn't even register the silence once the most troublemakers are either knocked out cold or kicked out of the tavern. Instead, she only hears a deep pitched coarse voice, a hint of serenity in the draconian raspiness in its breather. "How are you?"
When Ayla opens her eyes, she notices the crimson beast is not even talking to her, it had reached down to help the man up to his feet, its fiery gaze scanning him for any wounds from above two hundred and some more centimeters overhead. Only then the scholar begins to somewhat relax, her curiosity soon springing back towards the lassang, the man that had just saved her and specially his little yapping pet, which appeared to have the ferocity of a monster many times its size.
"Who you're calling a egg-- Wait, you volunteer? Really??", its as if someone hadn't just tried to murder Ayla. Her expression becomes sunny and awestruck. "I-I didn't expect to have a warrior to step up so soon!" Ayla rushes towards the woman, hesitating in the last moment, only to them grab her hand anyway. "I-I'm Ayla! Ayla Balaban! I hail from Admiral Waldrom Academy of Expedition!", she shakes the cowboy's hand with a childish eagerness, "I'm also an Olympian!"
It's like Ayla expected everyone in the tavern to know that there is a inhabited world by the name of Olympia. Surely, some would probably do after a month of contact with the Beyonders. She doesn't even wait for an answer before rushing towards on the same fashion, her steps becoming more careful once she takes a glimpse of the tall, red lassang eyeing her. "No arms! Only adventure! I'm Ayla Balaban, sir! It's a honor to have you in my platoon!!", she shakes his hands with both of hers. But then her eyes widen at the critter on his feet.
Without a hint of fear - which might cost her a finger - Ayla gets to her haunches and ogles that furious gremlin, trying to caress the top of its head without a care in the world. "Oh my gosh, she's so cute!! What's her name, sir??"
For such a large monster with a bloody red scales, the lassang inconspicously steps back, its gaze occasionally diverging towards Ayla, the man and his mother. A discrete puff of sulphurous breather rises from its nostrils. The low grunt it gives out hints pity at the three, perhaps envy even, but few are the ways a lassang can make its emotions readable to a human.
A shriek cuts amidst the fight after a stranger erupts from the cloud and takes down the 'usurper'. "No!! D-Don't fight near me, please! I-It wasn't that bad!!", the woman stands on the tip of her toes, recoiling so much into the walls that she almost merges into the wood boards. But if there was anything scarier than a furious crowd was the broad-shouldered lassang looming towards her. "I... I-I didn't mean it, p-please...", the woman whimpers, sure that those breaths are her final ones.
She doesn't even register the silence once the most troublemakers are either knocked out cold or kicked out of the tavern. Instead, she only hears a deep pitched coarse voice, a hint of serenity in the draconian raspiness in its breather. "How are you?"
When Ayla opens her eyes, she notices the crimson beast is not even talking to her, it had reached down to help the man up to his feet, its fiery gaze scanning him for any wounds from above two hundred and some more centimeters overhead. Only then the scholar begins to somewhat relax, her curiosity soon springing back towards the lassang, the man that had just saved her and specially his little yapping pet, which appeared to have the ferocity of a monster many times its size.
"Who you're calling a egg-- Wait, you volunteer? Really??", its as if someone hadn't just tried to murder Ayla. Her expression becomes sunny and awestruck. "I-I didn't expect to have a warrior to step up so soon!" Ayla rushes towards the woman, hesitating in the last moment, only to them grab her hand anyway. "I-I'm Ayla! Ayla Balaban! I hail from Admiral Waldrom Academy of Expedition!", she shakes the cowboy's hand with a childish eagerness, "I'm also an Olympian!"
It's like Ayla expected everyone in the tavern to know that there is a inhabited world by the name of Olympia. Surely, some would probably do after a month of contact with the Beyonders. She doesn't even wait for an answer before rushing towards on the same fashion, her steps becoming more careful once she takes a glimpse of the tall, red lassang eyeing her. "No arms! Only adventure! I'm Ayla Balaban, sir! It's a honor to have you in my platoon!!", she shakes his hands with both of hers. But then her eyes widen at the critter on his feet.
Without a hint of fear - which might cost her a finger - Ayla gets to her haunches and ogles that furious gremlin, trying to caress the top of its head without a care in the world. "Oh my gosh, she's so cute!! What's her name, sir??"
For such a large monster with a bloody red scales, the lassang inconspicously steps back, its gaze occasionally diverging towards Ayla, the man and his mother. A discrete puff of sulphurous breather rises from its nostrils. The low grunt it gives out hints pity at the three, perhaps envy even, but few are the ways a lassang can make its emotions readable to a human.
Seeing that alien mongrel stampede forward, its chops twisted with burning ire, did little to move Ayla; she still had a dumb smirk on her face as if Danny was going to lick her cheeks. It was only when she felt the stink of its breather propelled by the violent snap of its jaws, inches away from her rotund nose, that the student hit her rump on the floor, with another shriek. If it wasn't for Blake. And even then, her smirk grow back albeit with a zig-zagging pattern.
"Oh, my!", Ayla climbs to her feet, wobbling, dusting the dirt off her cargo pants. "He got a temper!", the spit flying off Danny's ceaselessly yapping mouth is enough to make the olympian retreat. "Pleased to meet you, Blake, sir!", the woman stammers. "I think I'll give your Danny bellyrubs later.", Ayla still wears a smile full of waryness, eyeing with a certain amazement how Blake effortlessly tames his ferocious hound.
The mere mention of her plans sets Ayla's train of thought back on track. Her eyes widen and she purses her lips, waving her index to Mad Madina. "Of course, of course!", her voice, then nervous, gushes with excitement, beckoning Madina and Blake to her table. Self drawn maps, chaotic data sheets, post it notes and jury-rigged gadgets strewn across its surface; each individual trinket appearing to be completely useless at first glance, but becoming curiouser the more one looks at them. The most of them was the the scholar's laptop; its no more than a pair of slim sheets of a clear, transparent material held together by a thin metal cylinder. A closer look makes the rectangles on the lower sheet - the one supported on the table - become apparent.
"Again, I'm Ayla-- Ayla Balaban! I'm an olympian, student of field biology on Admiral Waldrom. You-- You-- Ah, nevermind, I'll introduce those proper later!", the woman franctically gestures her hands to Blake and Madina. Next she swipes that same hand across her laptop's surface, and the raised screen glows until its white as paper, a collection of logos emerging on its backgrounds before all sorts of objects are displayed on the screen. "So, I'unno if any of you have noticed, but we're all 'kinda of similar, right? You, me, not you Danny! But then--", Ayla hunches on the table, gesturing with her eyes towards the lizard folk eyeing them back. "--So are the lassang! And the many native species in Olympia! And, and, like, listen closely, get this--"
The smile on Ayla's features fade away for a second. She lowers her voice, looking straight into Blake and then Madina's eyes. "--So are the non-humans in this, your, world. You might have agreed to escort me on a little but ambitious scientific journey, but will you still do after I reveal the nature of my, uhm, controversial research?" Ayla shakes her head when Madina invites the red lassang over and she furthers enforces her denial by daring to shake her index finger towards the beast. "Uhm, we're 'kinda full right now! Maybe some other time???"
"Oh, my!", Ayla climbs to her feet, wobbling, dusting the dirt off her cargo pants. "He got a temper!", the spit flying off Danny's ceaselessly yapping mouth is enough to make the olympian retreat. "Pleased to meet you, Blake, sir!", the woman stammers. "I think I'll give your Danny bellyrubs later.", Ayla still wears a smile full of waryness, eyeing with a certain amazement how Blake effortlessly tames his ferocious hound.
The mere mention of her plans sets Ayla's train of thought back on track. Her eyes widen and she purses her lips, waving her index to Mad Madina. "Of course, of course!", her voice, then nervous, gushes with excitement, beckoning Madina and Blake to her table. Self drawn maps, chaotic data sheets, post it notes and jury-rigged gadgets strewn across its surface; each individual trinket appearing to be completely useless at first glance, but becoming curiouser the more one looks at them. The most of them was the the scholar's laptop; its no more than a pair of slim sheets of a clear, transparent material held together by a thin metal cylinder. A closer look makes the rectangles on the lower sheet - the one supported on the table - become apparent.
"Again, I'm Ayla-- Ayla Balaban! I'm an olympian, student of field biology on Admiral Waldrom. You-- You-- Ah, nevermind, I'll introduce those proper later!", the woman franctically gestures her hands to Blake and Madina. Next she swipes that same hand across her laptop's surface, and the raised screen glows until its white as paper, a collection of logos emerging on its backgrounds before all sorts of objects are displayed on the screen. "So, I'unno if any of you have noticed, but we're all 'kinda of similar, right? You, me, not you Danny! But then--", Ayla hunches on the table, gesturing with her eyes towards the lizard folk eyeing them back. "--So are the lassang! And the many native species in Olympia! And, and, like, listen closely, get this--"
The smile on Ayla's features fade away for a second. She lowers her voice, looking straight into Blake and then Madina's eyes. "--So are the non-humans in this, your, world. You might have agreed to escort me on a little but ambitious scientific journey, but will you still do after I reveal the nature of my, uhm, controversial research?" Ayla shakes her head when Madina invites the red lassang over and she furthers enforces her denial by daring to shake her index finger towards the beast. "Uhm, we're 'kinda full right now! Maybe some other time???"
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