Ryzom

The trek and voyage to the island was arduous and Razyl could not get that out of his mind. Travelling with other Fyros, all had looks of both optimism and fear. They all wanted to arrive, but were reluctant to view what had become of the new lands.

Razyl had been trained to be patient, quiet and open to those things around him. It was only then that the true voices could be heard: the grass, the trees, the homin. Too many were focused on fortune and new beginnings, but Razyl knew better. They were scared to the bone. Starting something new always brings trepidation and worry. Fear. False evidence appearing real.

He was one of a few from the monastery that had opened just a few years ago. Help was needed not only in the new lands, but also for homin throughout the journey. Regardless of what they believed, and plenty of stories of both Jena and Ma-Duk had poured back to the refuge from those manning the transporting vessels, all had preconceived notions of what they would do when arriving. There were those who did not know or chose not to know what the two cults believed in.

The monastery taught preservation of all things. As the homin past held a deep loss of life caused by the Great Swarming, his sect was devoted to preventing a duplication of homin errors. Had they learned from their past mistakes or destined to repeat them?

As the outline of land appeared on the horizon, Razyl contemplated what his teacher had spoke of as he prepared to go. He had said, "Razyl, your path lies before you with many turns that will be available. Choose what you believe in as there is no right or wrong, only the need to keep our people free and safe. You have great responsibility and have been taught how to wield it. Do not forget what our great teachers have passed on. Seek that which can do the most harm to us. Prevent it from emerging as it will destroy everything including the source of the Great Swarming. You have been taught the six terrors. They are imprinted on you. Never forget them:

Destruction Rage Agony Gluttony Ostracism Nullification"

The arrival at the port was chaotic. Homins were running all over not caring who they bumped into. It was such a departure from the order of the refuge. So much so, that most homin stepping off of the vessels had empty looks on their faces. While some should be happy to be starting new lives in the new lands, all looked depressed.

One of the facets of the refuge that could to be accepted was the need for safety. Safety in numbers. So the races worked together, accepting their differerences.

Here was altogether a different story. Not a minute off the vessels and a large Zorai ranger was directing the four races to different sets of tents. Fyros were sent to the North. Zorai ahead to a small hill. Tryker and Matis ahead to the right. Such segregation was in stark contrast to the culture they had come from. Most looked around very uneasy.

At each of these tents the respective racial leaders explained the process of integrating the refugees into the new lands. For now, they were on an island situated off of the coast of the mainland, where they were to be sent when ready. This island was called Silan. On it the first Matis settlers had built a small village that was now in ruins. It was not explained why that was so. This new outpost was governed by the Rangers, a multi-cultural order bent on getting the new settlers onto the mainland as quickly as possible.

Each homin was given several tasks from the racial leaders. The Fyros hunted the lands to gather meat and supplies. They were also charged with protecting the outpost from territorial predators. The Zorai were to learn of local mysticism and prepare for battles to come using the magic of the land. The Matis and Trykers were taught the fine arts of crafting and gathering. Each race had their calls to duty. Everyone did their share.

Curiously, there were a few Matis busy around the tent of the Fyros. They were working for the Fyros leader armed with weapons and bloodstained armor. Trykers were practicing magic near the tent of the Zorai. Although segregated by race, there was cross training happening. It seemed very of out of place as Razyl looked around, but this was not a usual setting.

As he watched the bustling Homins, a dagger hilt and leather sack were shoved his way. A Fyros barked out some orders. "Rid our fields of those damned Yubos", he grumbled. Apparently there was a "rodent" problem that needed tending to.

Although hungry and bewildered, Meshin set off North to the fields just beyond the perimeter of the outpost. All the while he thought to himself. How was he to find the monastery here? Would someone contact him? This was not protecting the lands from the most grievous of terrors!

But he was resolved to do his share as he entered the fields looking for this four legged "rodent" the Yubo.

Several days had passed. Razyl was now as comfortable as possible. His daily routine included working for all four racial leaders. He knew his way around the South Eastern end of the island as well as the Ruins situated to the North East of the outpost. He was not only practicing his use of weaponry, but had learned some basic magic, gathering and the crafting of simple daggers.

Both the flora and fauna of this island were different from anything he had seen in the Refuge. There was no Monastery here. Of that he was sure.

Razyl kept to himself, helping others as it was needed. His vows of poverty and the need for quiet kept him removed from the rest of the population. He didn't have any friends nor did he seek out companionship. Razyl was busy with his tasks and was here to learn as much as he could.

At the end of the second day he learned some very interesting facts about the Matis population on the island. Apparently there was a region of the island that was infected with what the locals called "goo". It consumed everything it came into contact with, perverting it for it's own survival. The goo area was now barren and no Homin ventured near it.

This goo was studied by the Matis and they learned of it's unusual properties. Consumption gave the affected increased strength and energy allowing them to work for longer periods of time without the need for rest. A rogue sect of the Matis had stolen a large quantity of lab materials and were doing experiments to the North of the ruins. These "gooheads" as they were referred to, were addicted to the goo. Not only were they using the enhancing product, but they were injecting it into the local animals.

Both pack animals and predators were now roaming the North of the island. Many homins had fallen to these Gooheads and their pets. The North was now off limits to all homin with the exception of those with explicit orders from the racial leaders.

Razyl had been given several of these orders and was with the crew that eliminated the Goohead leader, Arken. To his dismay, he learned that in spite of his efforts, a new Goohead leader would emerge to replace Arken. They had cut the head off of the snake to only have it regenerate itself.

While trekking through the woods to the East of the ruins, a young homin had sprinted up to him, delivering a scroll and some cloth satchel hastily tied. "More orders", Razyl thought. But instead was a cryptically worded note written by a very precise hand. The letter was signed Baltos. Below the signature was a wax seal bearing the same design as the tatoo Razyl wore on his left forearm. Razyl placed the scroll inside his garments and continued to consider the words he had just read.

"The monastery in Pyr is no more. Seek that which the six terrors speak of. Wear this as a symbol of our sect. Speak to no one of us. The less they know the better. Pyr, when you are ready."

Razyl had received contact and knew now his destination. He placed the new black cowl over his head and set about his business harvesting amber for his taskmaster.

"I was wrong", Razyl thought, "it was the Tryker!"

It wasn't the gooheads that were behind the abuse of Goo on the island, but a rogue order of Tryker called the Chlorogoos. These homin were injecting local plants with the Goo, extracting the results and either injecting local animals or themselves with the byproduct. Not only that, but Goo was polluting the local water sources which poured down into the roots of Atys.

One of the Kami representatives, who Razyl had become an associate of, had asked him to check out a small cave on the extreme West end of the island. A river flowed the width of the cave and down into an underground jungle of sorts.

The stench coming from the cave was acrid. It took several minutes for Razyl to regain his vision before continuing to swim down into the cave. Within was a large cavern, home to an immense jungle. The humidity was styfling.

Razyl was travelling with a young Zorai, Lorellindil, whom he had met at a small Kami altar. The two decided to work together for mutual safety. As they climbed out of the water into the high brush, a large careening sound made them both duck. It was a roar, but a very alien one.

Lorellindil noticed movement ahead and took position at the top of a small rise. "Look", he said. Down below were "worker" insectoids. Larger than a Mektoub, these things were clammering about, busy doing something. They stopped only to roar periodically as if they were communicating. Razyl had read about but never bore witness to this terror. The Kitin.

It was imperative that the Kami be notified of their findings. How the Kitin had burrowed up from the roots of Atys was not known, but something was ordering these "workers" around.

The two opted to take stock of the surrounding jungle before returning to give a report. While they moved around a large humming sound approached at a rapid pace. With no notice, a large Kitin swooped in and hovered above immediately attacking with pincers and maw. The attack was brutal but in the end the odds favored the homin. "That was some sort of Scout", said Razyl. "Agreed". Lorellindel said, "there is a system to these Kitin. The workers, the scouts....but what drives them?" The two had no time to explore further and left the jungle for the relative safety of the entry cave.

There was more to observe in the jungle, but it would wait until the Kami agents were completely debriefed.

Exploring the jungle was arduous. The ferns were immense, the air stifling and the odor overwhelming. The sounds of the Kipee roaring was enough to keep the strongest homin on alert at all times waiting for something to happen.

The small team worked it's way towards an area they heard might be the Kitin entry into the jungle. Witchie was in the lead, a seasoned warrior who's countenance did not hide her fury. She was leading the group at a fast pace. Mordeki was the organizer of the bunch and made sure there were no stragglers.

"There it is", Witchie shouted. Ahead was a large cave opening. It was more or less a gaping maw through which some sort of mist poured out. The interior was dark, but there was something moving about in there.

"Ready?", Witchie asked. "All ready!", replied Mordeki. Witchie charged into the cave opening not hesitating for a moment. As Razyl's eyes adjusted to the dim light in the cave he saw the "it", that Witchie was referring to.

Standing about 3-4 Mektoubs tall was the most alien looking horror Razyl could imagine. Every part of it's body was a sharp angle. Nothing round, nothing smooth, just sharp dagger edges all over. It raised it's head and let out a very deep wail that shook the ground of the cave.

The entire team took a step back, with the excpetion of Witchie. "Charge" she cried and attacked the behemoth. Her blade bounced off the foreleg of the beast apparently causing no damage, but Witchie did not stop her assault. Three others joined her jabbing and slashing with their swords. Small shards of the beast's "hide" splintered off and crashed to the floor. If there was any liquid substance to that monster, Razyl never saw any spill.

But with every loss of a part of itself, it's moan softened until it crumped to the floor of the cave, it's life force gone. Sweat poured down the homins' faces. Witchie had a grin and a slight glow about her. Clearly she was in her element. "Good work all" she said, in between breaths. "You wouldn't mind if I quartered this thing up, would you? I build armor and some parts of that outer shell might make for good raw material." Everyone nodded as they panted and gasped for breath.

Razyl's mind ached from the reciting of words of healing that kept Witchie standing, but the ache didn't prevent him from thinking of that which they just accomplished. The beast or Kirosta, was a front line scouting officer sent by the Kitin hive to investigate the goo tinged water. They were close to breaking to the surface when the homin interrupted their plans. This coincided with the Rangers of Silan baiting the rear line of scouts back down into the Prime Roots, using the goo as bait. The two pronged approach worked in harmony.

The homins and their repopulating of the new lands could continue. Another Kitin threat thwarted.

Razyl returned to the outpost and was greeted by Chiang the Strong, military leader of the Ranger force. He was thankful for the efforts of the small crewe and gave each a set of Ranger armor as a means of thanks. He then suggested that the lot were ready to move on to the mainland and to seek out both Karavan and Kami agents to prepare for the next leg of the journey.

Razyl still had a few things he wanted to get to before leaving. One included scouting out the lands to the west of the Shining Lake, gathering some more mektoub horns for his craft and doing some digging in the newly named Kitin Jungle.

Perhaps, soon, very soon, Razyl would see Pyr and meet this Balto.

Pyr was unlike anything he had imagined. A huge confusing city of high walls, dusty corridors and sand-strewn round-a-bouts.

Mektoubs were hitched up all along the Cerakos gate, apparently from the many traders who were hawking their goods in the marketplace.

Razyl was a bit disoriented from his travel to Pyr. The Kami agent had invoked some mystical words and a portal had opened in front of him. He stepped through, felt everything spin, blinked and was in Pyr.

Inspector Ulyros, a Fyros, and Wilk Plotskin, a Tryker, were at the main gate and shouting for volunteers. Apparently they were seeking individuals for some official matter. Razyl approached curious as to what they were gathering for. Ulryros and Wilk were talking. They mentioned that a lead from "the Worm" had indicated that someone named Shekry had information about a secret band hiding out in the desert.

Razyl asked what this was about and was invited to assist them in their official endeavors. A number of warriors, mages and healers took position around Plotskin and Ulyros.

"Ok, Ulyros said. Get yourselves organized and then we'll head out. The trek will be dangerous, so look after one another. We head into the depth of the desert seeking out a fellow by the name of Shekry. This skallywag has a long history of villainous acts and we're hoping to leverage this to get some information from him concerning our real target, Desenne. Move out!"

Plotskin took up the front of the column lead by Erimos, a powerful mage. The terrain consisted of dunes and steep embankments. Several tumbled down as they travelled, requiring assistance. Ulyros took the rear. A large warrior by the name of Xycox hiked just ahead of Razyl. The armor the warrior wore was foreign to Razyl. He later learned that it was of Zorai craftsmanship.

As the group moved further into the desert, they were set upon by various carnivorous animals whose attacks were stealthy and deadly. Several homin fell to the onslaughts, but were quickly healed by the skilled mystics of the group. Xycox proved his battle worth as he swung a very large sword in huge arcs, cleaving limbs from the assailants.

After a deep descent down a dune into a ravine of sorts, Plotskin identified a cave hidden by a curve in the ravine. The group entered carefully, mindful of the type of person this Shekry was. He was deep inside the cave reading some documents out loud. It was clear he was up to no good, hiding out in such a remote place, but he plead his innocence.

Shekry O'rly was as slippery as a wet yubo, continuously dodging his interrogators. Over time, however, he loosened up and gave some significant details. After a time it was made clear that Desenne was in a Kitin cave in the Desert Stock located in the Witherings near Zora. Desenne was plotting to drive the Kitin against the homins using the same Goo oriented approach the Gooheads had perfected near the Ruins of Silan. This did not bode well for the Zorai.

Shekry managed to escape just as the Inspector brought out some manacles and the team was unable to find Shekry. At one point they thought he might be leading them into a trap, so they decided to head back to Pyr and warn the leadership of the impending danger.

The current state of affairs amongst the homin on Atys looked dire. Karavaneers had cornered the Kamists and were driving them from their Outposts. On the verge of a decisive victory, Ulyros recognized it might be difficult to muster support to protect Zora, but he kept those thoughts to himself. There was no need to cause panic amongst the homin.

On returning to Pyr, Plotskin and Ulyros thanked the band of homin for their support. Xycox offered dappers to all involved to reward them for defending the interests of all Atysian Homins. When approached, Razyl whispered to Xycox, "I have made an oath to live simply, thank you for the offer, but I cannot".

And thus, Razyl's first moments in Pyr were amazing and quite exciting. After that intense activity, Razyl wandered the streets of Pyr taking in all the important locations. Tomorrow he would begin to explore beyond the gates.

A interesting telling my friend, thank you for sharing it with us.
I look forward to read further.

//Drakfot

The desert around Pyr was extreme in every way. The heat, wind, blowing sand, the volume of Kitin and those damned Gingos everywhere you went. It was barely habitable, but that was the way the Fyros liked it.

Take the gates for example. On each was built a series of flame jets that continuously shot up a meter, keeping any animals from wandering into town. Yet travellers and Fyros alike had to also pass through these flames. What amazed Razyl was the lack of expression as people walked across the flame jets. They walked on as the flesh was seared on their feet as if nothing had happened. Razyl was incredulous every time he witnessed it.

How they did it, he did not know as everytime he passed through, the pain made him shout out. Now the sand of the Imperial Dunes was hot, but not like raw flame. When they said Pyrians were a hard lot, Razyl did not understand until witnessing the flame jets.

He hoped over time he was grow accustomed to and be able to ward off the pain.

...

Razyl spent two days exploring the sands surrounding Pyr, taking note of dangerous locations, where enemies of Pyr had established small camps and where the best raw materials could be dug from the soil of Atys. This scouting process was difficult but necessary as there were no mapmakers to speak of. Perhaps Razyl could establish a storefront and create maps, saving the profits to rebuild a temple.

...

This Balto was not to be found. No one made contact, no word on the winds, no one had heard of the person. Razyl would stay in Pyr and wait.

...

The beginning of the third day in Pyr began as any other with the exception of the constant rain, highly unusual in the desert, but most welcomed. To see so many Pyrian walking around with their mouths open to the sky was a wonder to view. The "drink of the sky" was a luxury.

Razyl was headed to meet with a Kami guide. As he approached an alter dedicated to the great Ma-Duk, Razyl brushed shoulders with a broad homin. Razyl nodded in the customary Fyrosian way. A sort of silent excuse me. The other homin asked bluntly. "Who are you?".
"They call me Razyl. A monk from the temple of the seeker of the dragon."
The broad one brought his hand to his chin, pushed and cracked his neck. Sighing in relief he said in a bare whisper, "Ah, a religious fellow. We could use you I should think."
"Use me?", asked Razyl.
"Indeed, the Riders can always use another Fyros sage. You would enjoy the deep discussions with the Zorai, yes?"

Razyl had met several Zorai on the transport over, but they were a very introspective and mystical people, not caring for long discussions with any but their own. "Deep discussion?....with Zorai?", Razyl replied.
"Indeed! I am Brock! Come!"

Brock introduced Razyl to a beautiful Fyrosian named Sheenathecat. Sheena had fiery red hair with a wisp of a lighter color travelling from front to back. The long robe she wore was elegant and stylish. Brock spoke to Sheenathecat in low tones that Razyl could not hear. Sheenathecat looked Razyl over and she smiled in his direction. "To Zora!", she stated. "Come, Razyl, let us trek to the great capitol of the Zorai." Sheenathecat then announced in a booming voice. "Should you wish to trek to Zora, meet me at the Cyrikos gate!" Several homin walked in her direction indicating that they too needed to make the dangerous journey.

It took the better part of the day, but when they arrived in Zora, Razyl could not even consider how tired he was. Before him awaited the most mystical of cities. He kept his emotions in check, pulled his cowl down a bit further to hide his smile and followed the troupe into the city proper.

Perhaps these Riders could aid him and in turn he could provide them with Fyrosian spiritual guidance. Maybe they would know of Balto. Something had guided Razyl here or...pulled him here. He acknowledged that he hadn't resisted at all. The travel had been forced on him, yet he had been resolved to do it. Why? That was a question at the forefront of his mind that would be answered another time.

For now, Zorai awated...

Several days of exploring the lands around Zora, the capitol of the Zorai, tired Razyl. He hadn't really rested since the trek there from Pyr.

The jungle was not as harsh as the desert sands, but a good number of bandits had set up camps dispersed amongst the green growth. Wandering alone was not wise, but Razyl was used to the way of solitude. He just had to be careful on which path he tread.

Last night was exhausting. Several of the Riders needed his help near Pyr. Not more than a half hour of travel from the city gates was a large Oasis. Apparently the Kami had set-up an altar and observed a large number of crab like beasts there. They thrived in the moist Oasis which was highlighted by the large lake. Apparently, the cloppers, as they were named from the noise they emitted as they walked about, were creating imbalance in the lake by destroying all the living beasts there. The balance of the natural beauty of the oasis was at risk and the Kami had called to the Riders for aid.

Several of them gathered near the altar. They asked Razyl to bless them as they fought, praying for the healing of their wounds and their speedy recovery. Razyl meditated near the altar and focused his prayers on the Riders who were under attack from the Cloppers. In the end the balance of the lake was to be restored, at least for a time. The Clopper population would again grow and place the oasis at risk, but for now the Kami were pleased.

Razyl needed some rest, but he was dedicated to finding some rotting leaves. Apparently the Kami guide in Zorai needed some for incense used at the altar. He found plenty of leaves on the floor of the jungle, but none were rotted. He couldn't understand the need for rot in incense, but who was he to question the Kami.

Rest would come soon enough.

So it was that Razyl was busy that day, ferrying goods between the various Cities of Intuition. Some were simple foodstuffs while others contained important documents. If this was the way Ma-Duk was to have him, then this is what he would do.

A runner approached bearing a scroll. Razyl wiped the sweat from his brow using the sleeve of his robe and thanked the runner. As quickly as he appeared the young boy ran off in the same direction.

The scroll was from Xeraphim, the leader of the Riders. Razyl's presence was required in Pyr. A trek to the Matisian lands was planned and they needed his blessings to keep them strong during the long journey. Razyl swiftly complied.

..

The Kami looked Razyl over and when satisfied opened a swirling portal in front of him. Still uncomfortable travelling in this fashion, Razyl stepped through into the hot sands of Pyr. On regaining his balance he looked up to no less than 12 homin. With the exception of one of two all were from the Riders.

They were all very happy to gather, some having not seeing each other for days. Some danced while others practiced moves with their weapons. Others hugged and told stories of their adventures. SheenatheCat told stories making her listeners laugh heartily. She was having fun and it was contagious.

Xeraphin made the announcement to be on the ready and then he let the constituents of Pyr know that the trek was about to begin. After a short time the group left the fiery gates of Pyr and struck out across the dunes headed towards the series of bridges to the South. These were designed by the homin to cross the deepest of ravines where terrible beasts could be found. Razyl was thankful that they weren't descending into those pits of terror.

The sun beat down on the travellers and all were happy to reach the first of several Kami altars. Small springs located near the altars quenched their thirsts.

Several followers of Jena were encountered, but they steered away from the quick moving band of Homin. No blood was to be spilled this day.

The trekkers rounded an outcropping and saw a large pond that poured out over a series of great falls. These Virginia Falls, as Razyl learned, were just majestic. Even those that had seen their beauty in the past stopped to take in the visual grandeur. The mists climbed from the base of the pool as the falls churned the water. As the sun settled across the mist, vibrant colors worked their way amongst the droplets. Several of the homin just smiled, thankful for the brief respite in such a place.

Two other homin were conversing on one side of the pool. From their clothing they appeared to be Jena followers. Xeraphim approached them, clearly recognizing the taller of the two.

"Oy there Kommisar", he said.
Kommisar bowed and replied with a witty remark about his honored enemy.
"Good to see the deserts have not changed your disposition", quipped Xeraphim.
"Jena keep you safe", replied Kommisar with a straight face.
"Hah! That is not much in this harsh land." Xeraphim smirked.
"Safe journeys then, Xera. Mind your group doesn't run into a foul pack of gingo."
Xeraphim turned and said over his shoulder, "In that case we'll need Ma-Duk's strength."
Kommisar tipped his head acknowledging the end of the conversation and returned to his discussion with the other homin.

Rayz'l ran forward of the column, barely keeping stride with his leader.

"Sir?"
"Speak, Monk"
"Sir, with such words tossed about, why are swords not drawn?", Razyl asked Xeraphim.
"Would you have the lot of us spill blood into the hot sands?"
"Well they are the enem..."
"Enough!", Xeraphim stated, "If anyone should understand the need for balance, youngster, it should be you!"

Razyl slowed his frantic pace and settled towards the back of the group. He thought on what Xeraphim had said. If they were to shed blood, then like blood would be shed from us, he thought. Perhaps not now, but soon in retaliation. There was nothing to be gained in such dishonorable fighting. Razyl thought he understood and silenty thanked his leader for having taught him a valuable lesson.

..

The group reached Yrkanis just as the sun set. The forest teeming with the calls of the local wildlife.

Razyl needed some rest, having been dragging his feet over the last few kilometers. "The town is not safe for us", Ffi said to Razyl. "We can set up camp near the Kami altar. The guards there will allow us safe rest."

Razyl yawned, knowing that the city of Yrkanis was not going anywhere and that he would have plenty of time to view the local markets in the morning.