tyither-blog

[tyither-blog]

Old School

Avian evolved then. And from their introduction, they seem to base thier gender concepts by profession.

[These guys seem familiar but I can’t place the race. Killroy?]

[I don’t have the resources utilize Scan without compromising Placebo’s function. So I can’t do much more then a cursory inspection of physiology. That being said, they do match one of the less likely evolutionary paths of the Kinnari.]

[Less likely? What would the requirements to take this form?]

[Prolonged time spent as a class 2 civilization or lower, with little or no outside aid. In that situation, the death rate caused by starvation, disease, and violence would create significant evolutionary pressure towards adaptable bodies with low caloric requirements. Historically, the effects that has on a races evolutionary path have been predictable based on environment type. The Kinnari come from the Meru Realm, which is a Mountain Realm. As a result, if the primary evolutionary factor is allowed to be sustenance-level survival capacity they would evolve along the same path as the Alfar, a bipedal walking mammal with hands and feet- otherwise referred to as Humanoid Standard, as the differences between humanoid species are secondary traits- in this case, feathers instead of hair.]

[So, for them to be Kinnari-derived, that would mean their civilization was destroyed and they were completely cut off from any kind of foreign aid. That makes no sense unless. . . Unless the Majikan-Technica war ended badly.]

[Yes sir. Minimum necessary damage would require mutual annihilation with the use of weapons of multiversal destruction sir.]

[Any other keywords I should use to check?]

[Their kingdom was named Himavanta, if that helps.]

I faced Wud head on, sticking to formal language for my savior. “Thank you, again, for your assistance. I apologize for the condition you found me in; I have spent a significant amount of time in stasis, and it seems to have affected my health more severely then I had expected.”

“Happy to help!” replied Wud, which got an eye roll from Trot. “All better now?”

“Much better, thanks to your healer” I replied with a friendly not to Guian, but I’m sad to say my symptoms will resume once the spell wears off. Additional castings can increase the time I have, but it is hardly a cure. And as such. . .”

“Trot cut me off then with a firm “Stop it. No. Saving you is one thing, but we aren’t a charity. You want clerical spells you pay for them like everybody else.”

“Trot!” Guian

“I see. Not unreasonable I suppose. Though I seem to have outlived my currency, leaving me with only two things to trade. Labor, and knowledge.”

Trot looked me in the eye and said. “We. Just. Saved. You. From. A. Rabbit. I don’t have any faith in your strength of body. What knowledge do you have?”

“That depends. My knowledge is of the past, and I don’t yet know how it connects to this present. You seem like Kinnari. Are you? in my time the hailed from the kingdom of Himavanta in the Meru Realm.”

Wud blinked at that. “Himavanta. . . Are you trying to tell us your from before the Age of Monsters? I find that. . . Unlikely.”

“What that ranger is actually saying is your talking bullshit.” Said Trot. “So lets speed this along. Here is a question only somebody with serious knowledge of the Lost Age would know. What do my swords do?”

“Well that looks like the standard Striker configuration your going with there, which was used by Majikan Front liners in the war. If your using a set of their old swords, then the twin blades on your shoulders should have thrust magic on them, increasing your speed and allowing you to perform full speed charge attacks at any angle, include full vertical.”

The shocked look on Trots face told me I got it right.

“The reason that sword along your back looks like somebody tried to create a two handed rapier is because it is only a sword in a secondary sense; the blade is actually an antenna that powers an inertial dampening field, essentially making you immune to any the vast majority of ranged weaponry. The hilt is a force field projector that lets you create a temporary wall. Since force applied to that wall is also applied to the sword, you have to ram the sword into the ground to anchor it for that to be of any help. That’s the real reason the ‘blade’ is pointy- so you can use it as a spike. In combat, the strikers would capture and hold key ground for the other troops to arrive; they also were sometimes used to disrupt enemy formations.”

I gave Trot a smile that wasn’t at all snarky and said. “Oh, and if your tie some strips of cloth two inches wide and between 6 and twenty feet long to the base of your twin blades, they will automatically wrap and unwrap them based on the tension on the cloth, allowing you to use them as a harpoon as well.”

“Well fuck me” said Trot. “You pass.”

[Hey Kilroy, What was that about with the cure spell?]

[Medical care often involves strapping issues(1) in primitive civilizations,]

[Of course it does.] I replied, with not even a bit of disgust in my tone.

1. Strapping issues refer to situations were the precondition to complete your goal means already having met your goal. In this case, medical care is needed to be healthy enough to earn money, but you need to earn the money before you can have the medical care. It is referred to as a Strapping Issue because it typically involves somebody who has never faced the issue in question stating “Pull yourself up by the _______strap”, depending of the anatomy of the species involved.

[tyither-blog]

Bird Brain

[We just lost spell resistance? What the hell!? What’s going on?] Of course Killroy would wake up now. One hell of a first memory for my newly sentient responsibility.

[I almost got killed by a freak combination of an allergy attack and a oddly aggressive rabbit.]

I started gasping desperately for air, partially a stall in order to catch up Kilroy before I talked to my rescuers, partially because i freaking needed the air.

[Considering the fact that I can breath now I think we got rescued by somebody with a heal spell.]

[Ahh. That would explain why Placebo is now running at 543 percent capacity with. . . 15% local mana? That isn’t good. We can’t spare the mana to get it properly online either.]

[Shunting the excess power into storage and running placebo on minimum settings can hold us for a few hours. Say, boss, while your acting all pathetic and wheezing see if you can get us another hit of that spell. I can save a lot more juice if I have have storage set to go beforehand.]

Feeling that further melodramatic gasping would not be appropriate, I stood up faced my rescuers and gave my best formal bow.

It wasn’t very good; etiquette wasn’t my best class at the academy. I remembered my basics though, and glanced around; they all looked fairly similar; only real differences are height and hair color, and nothing obvious I recognized as a secondary sexual characteristic. Soo. . Possibly sexually monomorphic? I remember that changes how genders systems tend to form, but not what those changes are. Best not to bring it up.

After I finished by bow, I meant to say “I thank you kind sophants for your timely assistance during my hour of need. My name is Tyither Dvalin and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I think it came out more like;

“I thank you  -cough- s for your assist -louder cough- in my -dry cough- names Tyither -wet, hacking cough- acquaintance .”

I am a paragon of style and first impressions, me.

The that first found me and called for help responded. “Cheers mate, name’s Wud.” They held out my hand and I shook it. As I did, I sized them up.

They were humanoid and  looked frail and skinny to me, but then again most non-Dvergar did. I guess by regular humanoid standards they were fairly buff. About five and a half feet tall, with a firm grip, alert eyes, and a pointy nose about a size and a half two long. What impressed me most was their hair. It was bright yellow with red sideburns, and stuck out of the back of their head like a brush. The overall effect was to make that nose look like the business end of a very pointy hammer that was coming at your rather quickly.

“This healer is the one who patched you up, names Guian” Guian nodded hello, apparently content to leave the talking to Wud.

“That fighter behind me is Trot.” Trot- the shortest one- gave me a disgusted look. Apparently they were not the type to appreciate people that lose fights to small animals.

“And this tank coming up now is Pole” Pole was the last to arrive, hampered as they were by thier heavy metal armor, which bore the scars of battle. Thier hair was a disruly mop dyed in black and white patterns, like somebody had tried to dye each individual strand with a bar code. 

I looked at each of them in turn.

Guin lacked Wud’s distinctive nose, they were a few inches taller and had paler skin, and a small scar under their left eye. But, like Wud,  their hair was even more impressive. They had a full 6 inch mohawk of brilliant orange with a black stripe near the end. The most interesting part was the placement; I was used to seeing mohawks follow the curvature of the skull, but this one was set up so the entire mohawk came of out a strip of skin six inches long and centered at the top of the forehead, causing to front tip of the mohawk to dip down between their eyes, and the back tip to barely reach the back of the skull. It was like their face was trying to wear a roller skate.

Trot was similar in build but a full foot shorter then the rest of the group, dressed in darker leathers that looked designed for sneaking, along with three swords slung on their back, in the old Magikan Striker style; Twin swords hung at angles with the grips at either shoulder, and one bigger one hung upside down so the grip was just behind the tailbone.

Trot had a cold look and clear complexion, and didn’t have any viable scars. They look more like the type to do the scarring to me. No distinguishing features you could put on a police report, except for the white and black hair, which despite being a disheveled mop must have been cared for because each individual tuft was white inside with a black outside and in the shape of a feather.

Wait a second. . . I peered closer, ignoring the aghast expression I got from Trot. It didn’t look like feathers, it was feathers.

[tyither-blog]

Rabbit Food

Acknowledged. K5L9-R0Y4-5 will reboot a build in limitations to processing power are lifted. Translate will be prioritized.

Reboot in progress Translate at 1%

My beard bristled{1} as I heard something in the bushes.

Something poked its head of of a rather fetching deciduous shrub. It was small, furry,  and walked along in a kind of odd hopping lope. It had a kind of ratlike face, with little whiskers, and large, rabbit like ears coming out the top of it’s head. 

I say rabbit-like because last I heard rabbits weren’t covered in horns.

Of course, I had been out of the game a while; for all I knew all rabbits these days had heads that looked like a bored costume shop employee had decided to glue every devil horn in the store to them.

As I looked at it, my eyes started to water, and my throat started to get itchy.

That’s weird, it’s almost like I was having an allergic reaction. But that’s impossible because . . . .

Mages . . . cant. . .  have. . .

Fuck. Fuck! Placebo{2} is offline! My immune system is on autopilot!

Reboot in progress Translate at 25%

I can’t resist disease I haven’t already been exposed to- and my immune systems can’t tell threats from non-threats.

I tried to back away slowly from the rabbit thing, only to nearly black out as my veins were replaced with the sensation of vibrating sandpaper. The world went white, and then faded to a dull red as I lay on the ground. . . in the exact position I had been in while standing up.

My face went pale as I realized what was happening. Petriform was part of my immune system, and the allergic reaction was triggering it, but not all at once. My veins were starting to turn to stone, and grind against my internal organs. While, I will have you know, is one of the top three pains I had experienced in my life up until that point.{3}

“KIllroy!” I yelled. “Forget Translate- I need Placebo! Now!”

Reboot in progress Translate at 35%

The rabbit looked at me, and must of decided that the novelty of being the predator was worth the effort of killing me- it charged. It gored me across the chin- a light blow, but one that redoubled my allergic reactions- this time swelling was on my face and started to close my airway.

I started screaming- to hell with low profiles- I needed help or I was going to die one of the more embarrassing deaths I ever heard of. Eventually the rabbit stopped as my throat started to close shut. laying on the gr

Just as I was about to pass out, I heard somebody coming. Several somebodies, maybe.

“Hog ‘en sroint ahw hge?”

Reboot in progress, translate at 55%

“th isis ser guylyious taout ken a by rabned hornit? Lessuse. Sho weld diest let him jus.”

“Youwhe reyour’s howpasscomp- ionany, loat ok him: lyen heclar be’s edonpois”

Translation at 75%

“Fnie, Fnie” I heard the chunking sound of a blade through flesh.

“Beettr get Mirae to Crue him tehn.”

One of them shouted “Maire- got a poesrn dwon hree!”

Reboot in progress, translate at 100% secondary programs coming online.

I heard somebody running through the undergrowth at great speed. The next thing I heard was the most beautiful sound of my life.

“Cure!”

1. Dvergar beards are not actually made of hair as such, but are a living sensory organ. Until this was discovered, a lot of historians were confused as to why so many of their horror movies starred barbers. 

2. The Placebo effect is typically defined as when the mind effects the medical state of the body. In low magic worlds, all this usually accomplishes is frustrating medical researchers. For a Mage, however, it’s possible to take control over this effect, greatly increasing their overall health and lifespan, as well as eliminating any misbehavior their autonomous process might get up to.

3.The other two were dipping his hand in molten metal, and having his beard trimmed without anesthetic.

[tyither-blog]

A New Day

“That's Lizardshit, Killroy”{1} I wasn't willing to accept the possibility of being the last of my kind, and any case I suspected I would get a message like this with a sentence as long as mine.

“There was plenty of time while I was down for something to come along and make the Telenet unfeasible, or to switch to a new system. Hell, I was out long enough for evolution to occur, considering our skills at genetic engineering.”

“And losing Telenet access could be the result of something as simple as being left out of the loop during a mandatory update to the security protocols. Which, I might remind you, is all but a guarantee.” I was trying not to think about those battlefield promotions, which painted a much grimmer picture. But I wasn’t ready to face that yet.

"Anyhow, we have more immediate problems. Can you detect our current location?"

[Negative, Sir. This dimensional frequency is not registered.] 

I pointed to the placard that had been in front of my exhibit, written in an unfamiliar language.“What does that say?”

[I am not able to translate this language, sir.]

“You cant translate? YOU can’t translate!?” I forced myself to calm down.

I was standing in what looked like a museum next to what looked like a destroyed exhibit. Somehow I didn’t think explaining that I WAS said exhibit would get me any traction with the local police force. Especially If I didn’t say it in a language they understood. "Record that and start taking language samples.” Yes, sir.

I ran out of the room filled with ancient sculptures, and entered what looked like a exhibition of portraits. No windows or doors. The next hall was filled with landscapes, and after that still life. Still no exit. I didn’t get a chance to look closely at them as I ran past, but I did notice that they seemed to be mostly realistic work.{2}

That was.. Interesting. Realistic work doesn’t usually have as much value for developed civilizations. It’s not that they don’t appreciate art, it’s just that  capturing the exact beauty of the natural world on canvas is not as valued in a society that had developed the photograph.

Past the still life’s I found a room that looked like a cafeteria, which mercifully had windows. From the look of the sky this was the first few hours before dawn. The window only had a primitive bolt-lock on it, and was easily opened from then inside. I then slipped out the window and ran like I was stolen.

15 minutes later I was off the grounds and running down a brick paved street. There were a few people there, and they looked at me with interest but not shock. From their reactions I gathered I looked different to them, but not so much as to be alien.  I spotted what looked like forest ahead- Was I on the edge of town? I headed to it; forests were easy to get lost in and I needed to, and I needed to hide an regroup. Looking for info could wait until I figured out why Killroy was having performance anxiety.

Why the hell was Killroy not able to translate? Killroy was an quasi-AI that interfaced with a telepathic network, the filter through which I was able to access the skills, knowledge, and experiences that the other Telenet users had provided access to.

Translating was quite literally the only thing Killroy actually did- taking the  information from the Telenet and translating it into something that my mind could understand and absorb.{3}

I gently slapped the palm of my hand against my cheek.

“Killroy, you don’t have Telenet access. Terminate all process and perform a self evaluation. When complete report your current capabilities.”

[Understood sir.]

After I had found a nice place between two conifer trees to hunker down in, an information screen popped up in my vision.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virtual A.I. Program K5L9-R0Y4-5

Current Status

Processing- Limited. Processing power used on voice interactive mode exceeded practical functioning guidelines- insufficient processing power remaining to have Diagnostic and Voice interactions functional simultaneously. Voice interaction s\disabled. Heads Up Display activated to reduce processing burden.

Identification- Online. Can cross reference information with  the existing digital encyclopedia to create dictionary definitions to previously encountered phenomenons.

Network- Offline. Network not found.

Transfer- Disabled. Security protocols out of date and unable to communicate with Telenet security central.  * User can enable with Override.

Translate- Partially Disabled. K5L9-R0Y4-5 does not have access to external processing power and local authorized processing power is not sufficient to complete high level translation. At present can only translate known languages. *User can enable full translation services with Override.

Placebo- Offline- Insufficient Mana. Allows manual control over biological systems. Biological systems currently running out automatic.

Detect- Partially Offline- Insufficient Mana. Allows gathering data about the surrounding magical and physical laws about the outside world. Lack out outside processing power prevents identification of previously unknown phenomena. Currently limited to known factors only.

Skills- Offline - Insufficient Mana- No access to Sanctum- No understanding of local physical or magical law.

*User has been promoted to Autarch. The following abilities have been unlocked.

*Override- User can Override security protocols.

*Authorize- User can authorize others as Telenet users, and set their degree of access.

*Install- User can give telepathic abilities to non-telepathic species via retrovirus. Requires the exchange of genetic information.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I need Translate online. “Overide- Enable Translate. Authorization Sargent Dvalin- passphrase ‘when moss gross on the river bed the dry farmer weeps’.”

Authorization level not valid.

I ground my teeth “Overide- Enable Translate. Authorization Autarch Bloody Dvalin- passphrase ‘when moss gross on the river bed the dry farmer weeps’.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warning! Override will increase K5L9-R0Y4-5 processing power past virtual AI threshold and would trigger initial sentience. Once initial sentience has been determined, the Recognition of Intelligent life act will mandate you allow them to complete their development into a fully sentint AI. Warning! Without access to a  robust Telenet, awakened AI will have to pull all processing power from users brain- as AI development continues processing resources may become exhausted resulting in reduced functionality. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dammit. A sentient AI was a pretty big deal. One that existed in my head was a bigger one. But knowledge was power, and I was powerless in this strange new world. I needed the ability to understand if I was going to start learning. Start surviving.

“Warning Acknowledged. Confirm Override”

1. Had Tyither been raised in a society that depended on cows instead of thousand-pound lizards as their primary source of fertilizer, this might have been "Bullshit."

2. Realistic is a relative term. In this case it is being applied as “an attempt to reproduce the appearance of the models as accurately as possible.” The fact that the models included members of the Ifreet, Hieracophinx, and a Wereabada races may detract from the realism for the less traveled viewer.

3. Downloading another persons life experience information into your brain without first reformatting it to match your personalized mental operating system is banned in every society that considers “gibbering madness” to be an unacceptable side effect to trying to learn how to play table tennis.

[tyither-blog]

Prologue : Sole Survivor

“Sergeant Dvalin, it is time.”

I looked up to see a kid glaring at me. Well, to me she was a kid, but even back then I considered that to be practically everybody. She was about six and a half feet tall and her shoulders were fully half that wide, weighing in at about 250 pounds. She was a proper example of a Dvergar, which is to say she gave the impression somebody stacked two square crates of kickass on top of each other and plated them in muscle.

She shaved her beard but left in capped sideburns in the Svartalfheim style which for some inexplicable reason was popular with the younger crowd. As far as I was concerned it just made them look like big humans. None of this detracted from the anger in her eyes.

“You got a name, kid?” I asked.

“Petty officer Audhildr Sindri, Sir. You have been ordered to report for sentencing, Sir. I have been ordered to escort you to the Tribunal.“

I raised my eyebrow at that. Surname and rank was one thing; personal name was something else. Petty Officer Sindri was trying to be polite, but that didn’t much jive with her attitude.

I got up and tried to straighten my uniform as best I could. Just because I was being marched off to experience the joy of watching everything I had built for my self over the last 80 years get torn down, didn’t mean that I couldn’t face it with dignity.

While I followed the young officer to my doom, I decided to indulge my curiosity and investigate Sindri a bit. I mean, look, I know it was rude and all, but tell me that if you were walking to the darkest judgement of your life you wouldn’t look for any distraction you could get.

Killroy, what can you tell me about Petty Officer Audhildr Sindri?

[Petty Office Audhildr Sindri joined the Forgeworld Defense Forces during the 17th year of the Majika-Tecnika war, when a rogue unit believed to be affiliated with an extreme Majikan faction known as the Crimson Rage chose to hide in her home settlement of Blotskar. When the Tecnika sent a swam to pursue them, 30 percent of the settlement was destroyed in the ensuing combat. Records indicate Sindri lost both parents and an older brother in the battle, but she and her younger sister Saoirse Sindri survived.]

[More recent records, however, indicate that Saoirse Sindri recently joined Forgeworld Defense. She was most recently deployed to the training ship Ymir for her shakedown tour.]

So I got her sister killed, huh? That explained the anger. But I think it’s more complicated then that.

[You are correct, sir. Saoirse Sindri was a monther of three. All the children were present the city of Thunguska during the Ymir Disaster.]

So I got her sister killed but saved her sisters children. [Indeed. Based on body language there is a 67 percent chance she agrees with the logic of your choice but is still enraged at the death of her sister.]

Interesting.

I suppose I should take a minute to explain Killroy, but bear with me because your culture doesn’t really have a word for what he was. Killroy was functionally similar to an A.I., but that doesn’t quite fit because it imply mechanics and Killroy was organic. Killroy was the portion of my brain set aside for cloud processing and data retrieval, my connection to the Dvergar Telepathic Gestalt, which was kind of a telepathic internet.

Anyhow, this whole exercise had served it’s purpose and kept my mind occupied for the walk to the tribunal.

The lead judge banged his gavel- actually a stone ball designed to fit in the hand but the function was the same. With each bang the bottom of my stomach dropped another hundred feet.

“Sargent Tyither Dvalin. You have plead guilty to  Criminal Negligence Resulting in Accessory relating to and resulting in the following crimes; Creation of a Sentient Race for Enslavement Purposes. Creating of a Sentient Race for Military Purposes, and Creation of a Sentient Race for Livestock Purposes. As such you are considered personally, if partially, responsible for every bit of suffering your actions served to inflict.

“We recognize that you were fooled, and at no point made a conscious choice to be involved in this. The evidence makes the attempt to defraud you clear. However, you are a Rank One citizen with the privileges and responsibilities that entails.  And you failed to live up to them.“

“We have chosen to give you the minimum sentence for your crimes. 20 years per life sentient and potentially sentient life lost.” That sounded nicer then it was. The sheer number of victims meant math was not my friend here.

Killroy, what does that come out to? [411780 years sir.]

I gulped. That was longer then almost all races had existed. The Majika and Seraphim claim to have records that far back, but it was over twice as long as the Alfar have been around been around, much less the Dvergar.

And it’s not like I’m going to die of old age. Plenty of time for me to loose myself; fade until nothing is there but the memory of a cage. Not that I don’t deserve it.

“In addition, your rank and Telenet privileges will remain until you are formally discharged from military custody at the end of your sentence. As such, you have the option of spending it in petriform.”

That was more like it; it meant I would be able to essentially spend the sentence in suspended animation. I would still wake up to a world I didn’t know where everybody I had ever loved had forgotten me, but I got to skip the boring bits. And I would still be me when I got out.

”I thank the Tribunal for their mercy.” I said, dread weighing down my thoughts. I then followed Sindri back to my cell, and triggered the process that would convert my body to a rather homely looking hunk of stone. 

When I woke up, a Killroy set of a series of alerts in my brain.

[-Alert- Chain of command vacancy detected; you are field promoted to Commander.] [-Alert- Chain of command vacancy detected; you are field promoted to Captain.] [-Alert- Chain of command vacancy detected; you are field promoted to Admiral.] [-Alert- Chain of command vacancy detected; you are field promoted to Autaurch.]

Mother of Stone!

Killroy, what happened?

[Unable to access external records; telenet down. Telenet is guaranteed accessible in 98% of dimensions and no interference is detected; by crossrefrencing this with alerts that were placed on que during petriform, a hypothesis can be created.]

My mouth went dry as I ran ahead of the the train of logic.

[All other sentient-level telenet users are deceased; excepting you, the Dvergar are extinct.]