soul_campaign | 003 (mar. 7) / video.

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003 (mar. 7) / video.

[it's been over a month since qilby last showed his face in a personal post on the network, and since then the pile of books on his workspace have grown to obscene levels. either he's been spending all his food money on these things -- he certainly isn't looking any less gaunt than usual -- or someone's been seriously ignoring their due dates at the library…

due dates don't apply to kings, anyway. and that's the truth!

he smiles a tired smile.] Believe it or not, I think I'm beginning to exhaust Shibusen's library of its resources. A word to the wise -- the selection is smaller than it first appears, when the majority of books are restricted to the public.

[is that a subtle jab at the way things are run? probably not. he's still generally-cheery looking, after all.] I wonder what the policy on traveling outside the city is, when one's not accompanying their partner on a mission. It's dangerous out there, of course, but I'm curious about the rest of this world outside the city's walls. It's not every day that I-- [well, that'd be a lie] ... That most people get to see a new planet, and I'm sure I'm not the only un-partnered individual who's got an itch to explore. The libraries of the world await...

... Perhaps, when things calm down a bit. [you know, when you mighty warriors can afford to sit around and lounge by the pool all day.] In the meantime, does anyone have any suggestions as to other ways of acquiring study material? A man needs to keep himself occupied.

[you have no idea.]

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That can be managed.

((do you just want to switch to action or do a log? :D))

Then if you are not currently indisposed, I will see you there shortly.

((i'm lazy so let's switch to action! also please imagine i used the correct spelling of hoard in that last tag.))

((what typo? i don't see a typo!))

[it's the very definition of an impromptu meeting but, as much as he loved planning things and carefully setting them into motion, there was something attractive about spontaneity. and what could be more spontaneous than meeting a ten foot tall alien in a school library to talk about the universe and those beyond?

he arrives with a bag near-bursting with books slung over his good shoulder, trying to avoid the ever-watchful gaze of the librarian who, by now, has probably plastered the faculty offices with wanted posters with his face on them. qilby's slipperier than she gives him credit for, however, and he manages to find an alcove out of her line of sight.

he trusts that the protoss will pick him out with minimal effort and so he waits.]

[Qilby wasn't kept waiting for very long, especially since Zeratul was already attracted to dark places and hidden alcoves. He was rather pleased to see him there, actually, since it kept him from getting in the way of the other patrons.

He didn't bring any books with him, as he was more interested in conversation, but there were plenty of options around them. When he approached Qilby, he gave him a respectful bow before kneeling across from him.]

Adun toridas, Qilby.

[qilby remembered a phrase like it -- similar, but not the same -- from when he spoke with selendis all those weeks ago. but he neither knew nor cared what the proper response to the greeting was, and so simply dipped his head courteously. it was a polite step up from the mere acknowledging nods kings saved for people below their station... but it was probably rather clear that qilby wasn't accustomed to doing anything more than that -- much less bowing -- for anyone.]

A pleasure to meet you in person, Zeratul. Pay these no mind-- [he unslung the bag from his shoulder before dropping into a leather comfy chair] --they're merely a peace offering, should I be discovered here by... Certain parties.

I imagine one day I'll pay for my purported crimes, but today is not that day. [no wonder he's been speaking so quietly, even for someone in a library. still, he's amicable enough!] Coming here's a reasonable risk to take, for the sake of speaking about myself even more than I already seem to do.

A paltry sum, considering what you have amassed at your living space. Knowledge ought to be free, after all. [He was mostly teasing, considering how strange humans had to be about their possessions. At least with his people you didn't have to worry about anything going missing.]

I believe we will be safe. The locals have grown used to my appearance in the library, but that does not mean they approach me. Now - [He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back on his heels slightly.] - since you have taken such risk to speak about yourself, please do.

[he lowered his gaze in spite of himself; he had the good grace to look a little ashamed of himself. just, not much.]

I always believed in the open sharing of knowledge and power. It was philosophy I tried to uphold, both as a scholar and a ruler.

[he cleared his throat. story mode was a go!] I know you're already familiar with space -- the vast, infinite starscape that we called the Krosmoz. Eliatropes were born of the same union between our Goddess and the Great Dragon, the cosmic union which created the Krosmoz and all the stars and planets that filled it like so many grains of sand in the desert.

Thus, from the very beginning, our people were united with dragonkind. The first six of us to be born, myself included, formed a Council of Six-- or Twelve to be more precise. Because each of us possessed a dragon sibling that we were bonded to with ties that went beyond those of mere blood. More than that, we were all born -- this Council -- with one purpose in mind: to govern our people through the ages. The Council did not live and die like the rest of our kind, but we would reincarnate, as I believe I mentioned earlier. In this way, we've managed to guide Eliatropes for... Thousands upon thousands of years now, I believe. More than that.

[the words sounded almost rehearsed. either he's had to tell this story many times before, or he's spent a great deal of time figuring out exactly how his speech was going to go. probably both. even the pause in his story was well-placed, and he glanced at zeratul for any sort of response. not that he'd notice much of any, what with the mask and... lack of facial features, and all.]

[It might have sounded rehearsed, but Zeratul listened intently just the same. If Qilby didn't enjoy telling the story, he didn't think he would have obliged him at all. Still, other topics might liven him up a bit. Zeratul's reactions were fairly minimal, simply nodding at certain places, but Qilby would know he had the old protoss' attention completely. He didn't interrupt until he was certain the other man was done. Mostly done, at least.]

United with dragons? We have no such thing where I am from, though we do have access to the knowledge of those that have passed before us, if they preserved it. Not quite so efficient as reincarnation, I would imagine.

[He didn't want to ask how Qilby could possibly be, then. Far beyond his years, without a doubt.]

[qilby always enjoyed the attention, and it made him speak ever more confidently. not in the somewhat-reedy voice he usually possessed, but something firmer, deeper, more oratory.

he smiled at the response.] Perhaps not, but we relied on both our effective immortality and our records in equal part. Death wiped the memory clean, for an infinite number of lifetimes stuck on one world would have been enough to drive any immortal leader mad.

Our spirits remained ever the same, however, and so there was little difference between iterations of ourself from life to life. I was always a scholar and a king. My brother was always an inventive genius. My sister was always a wise judge and peacemaker-- and so on.

We interacted in very much the same way for each generation, which ensured peace. None of the turmoil that seems to plague so many civilizations, where power is constantly being passed from hand to hand.

[The memory loss was certainly a unique spin on immortality and reincarnation. It was a concept that was of course known to his people, but not something he really thought existed within their own species. They could definitely benefit from some of the wiser leaders from their past, though.]

Our civilization is not immune to strife, but we have achieved more than most. It sounds as though with your method, however, you have achieved far greater. What is your world like?

Was. [came the grim correction. it was followed shortly by a nod -- he got a rather good idea of what those achievements were earlier, from Selendis, and was rather impressed -- and he continued on.]

It was... Beautiful. Wild, and largely untamed-- merely cultivated, some. Eliatropes sought to live in harmony with nature rather than control it. We understood our place in the Krosmoz, though we were admittedly in the greatest position to venture outside the confines of our world. [he spoke with small, smooth gestures, as if he could coax the image forth. if it wasn't obvious before, it was probably clear now: he only had the one right arm.] But at first there was little reason for us to-- little reason to leave our verdant fields, perfumed oceans, and misted mountains.

[the slightest emphasis on 'at first.']

[Zeratul bowed his head in sympathy, brow knitting together. He was all to familiar with the loss of a beautiful homeworld. At least Qilby had been able to enjoy his for many years. Zeratul had stepped foot on Aiur just in time to watch it burn.]

I grieve for your loss, for it is one that I share. It is my hope that you found the stars to be just as welcome a home as your original?

[Just the same as Qilby's supposed age, he made no question towards the missing arm. If the homeworld was lost, and he was a king, the injury was likely a result of war. Nothing beautiful ever lasted, but at the very least there were always new beauties to be discovered.]

[he closed his eyes; the sentiment was appreciated, evidently, and he was even glad it went beyond that. sympathy for his ordeals was hard enough to come by. empathy, however, was practically a myth.]

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't, but I only wish our travels could have been made under different circumstances. [qilby shook his head, shifting the mane of long hair what was visible from beneath his hat.] My people were not ready to leave their home, when we were forced to flee, and our chambers of metal and stone were no replacement for the grass beneath their feet, the feeling of sun on their skin...

Our travels lasted many years. We'd take what little energy we could leech from empty planets in order to power our ship-- occasionally we'd happen upon an inhabited world, and learn a little bit about the universe that was suddenly opened to us. But we'd never stay long. It was only when we happened across one particular planet, very far away from our original world, that we decided it was time to stop running.

[he smiled.] It was remarkably like our old home, an untouched world still in its infancy. It took some time, but we eventually rebuilt some semblance of our civilization -- and a new age of prosperity began.

[that'd be a good place to end... if the story had a happy ending. there was a twinge of sadness in his smile that said that wasn't the case.]

[Despite his love for Aiur, he was more inclined to miss its actual existence rather than what it had to offer. He'd been on so many planets, and with his wanderers' spirit, there were few places he truly called home. Out among the stars was where he belonged, but he still understood the pain. He saw it on the faces of all the Khalai protoss that had to evacuate their native planet.]

A suitable replacement will always just be a replacement, but if you were able to prosper once again, then that is good. My own people traded a world of jungles for a world of deserts, and the transition has not been entirely kind. At the very least we could follow the path of out gods, and find worlds they had touched as well.

[He had a feeling Qilby's story continued from there, and wasn't as cheery an ending, but he left it alone. If he wanted to talk about it, he would.]

I am curious, however, about the method you use to power your ships. Energy from empty planets?

We were lucky enough to have a smooth transition... You have my sympathies. Selendis mentioned your home world in passing, but-- [a little awkwardly] --I wasn't sure that it had suffered a fate similar to mine.

[but he clearly remembered the small, ominous "was" she'd used when referring to her world, the same "was" he'd used just a moment ago. his memory had always been exceptional-- something that might become more evident as he continues explaining.]

It was an extension of our natural ability to manipulate the life force that permeated our universe, the ability from which all our other powers spring. Almost all of our technology paralleled what we could normally do without assistance... It just did it better. While on our own we were capable of breathing in the life of, say, a field of grass-- there was no way we could harness the energy of an entire planet without the help of our inventions, many of which I designed.

The greatest among these devices was an artefact we called the Eliacube. It acted both as a battery and a conduit for our energies, making us capable of channeling great amounts of life force at once. For example, we possessed the ability to create portals under our own power-- somewhat like your warp gates I've been told about. While normally we'd only have the ability to travel maybe a hundred meters with each portal, with the Eliacube we could open gateways to anywhere on the planet. Even to other planes of existence.

We left behind many gateways on our worlds, that performed the same function. As I understand, the natives made much use of them even after we'd long passed. [le smile.] Selendis compared us to the, aah-- Xel'Naga, I believe.

[not strictly true. but she did say they were their gods. maybe he can earn himself some points here.]

Very little of what it once was remains, but with patience and strength, we may yet restore it to its full glory. I admit it is only my ancestral home, and the one we occupy currently is where I was truly born and raised. Shakuras will be defended just as fiercely as Aiur, if not loved just as much.

[Once again, Zeratul fell silent as Qilby answered his question, looking somewhat amused at Selendis' assessment. He nodded his head.] Indeed, the Wanderers from Afar, the Xel'Naga, traced a path similar to yours. What they did during their long journeys is not entirely known us, but they left temples and warp gates in their wake, along with artifacts and elusive clues. Their gates connected planets, and their ancient technology became the basis for our own technology. Your influence may not be as direct as theirs, but it sounds as though you have created a bedrock for younger species to learn the wonders of spaceflight.

[What Selendis didn't know, was that if the Xel'Naga came back around, they weren't necessarily going to be benevolent to their wayward creations. Qilby's earning points, but the Protoss had the Dae'Uhl to keep them from messing with younger species. It didn't sound like Eliatropes had that.]

If you spoke of your Eliacube, I am certain she would have mentioned the khaydarin crystals. They amplify our natural powers as your Eliacube does yours, after all. It is strange for a thing like BREW to pull so many different people from so many different places, and yet our stories can be so similar.

She certainly did. And yes-- [with sudden animation, though he was careful not to raise his voice too loudly] --she described your warp gates! Almost identical to the Zaap gates of my own invention, though I never got the chance to link entire planets together. Merely countries, landmasses. But as I came to learn much, much later, the natives of our new home made extensive use of them while we were-- aah, indisposed. They were... One of the very few things we could leave behind for them.

[a pause.] Perhaps it's not so strange after all. If BREW needs us to win this war, some kind of camaraderie is required. And when time is somewhat of a luxury, we could use all the little prods and nudges we can get to reach that level of brotherhood.

[it's disgusting, really. he'd thought he was nearly done with having to pretend to give a damn about others and yet, here he was now. was it too much to ask to be allowed a little bit of self-centeredness?]

Aah-- forgive me. You must think me entirely narcissistic by now. If you would allow it, I'd be interested to hear you speak more about your own experiences. Right now, I've only bits and pieces of your people's story.

[he leaned back, careful as always to keep his body language open, accommodating. even if he had little sympathy to give for whatever tragedy befell this particular race, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't an interesting-sounding story. that's really all that mattered, anyway.]

Hm, I believe your assessment to be entirely correct. Having something in common aside from being forcibly removed from our homes should certainly go a long, long way.

[He laughed.] Narcissistic? Not in the least, dear Qilby, as I have asked you to indulge my curiosity. It is only fair that I return the favor.

[Zeratul considered - where to start? Might as well pick it up as close to the beginning as possible, since he already knew of the Xel'Naga.] As you know, the Xel'Naga were our gods. Where they came from, we still do not know, but for a time they watched over us and nurtured us in our infancy. When they came down among us, and revealed themselves, we welcomed them and the gifts of technology and wisdom they brought with them. We thrived under their care, our culture flourishing with arts and philosophies that most species at that age cannot even fathom. It was truly a golden age for our people, though the memory of it is almost entirely lost to us.

[The Preservers were the only ones left who could access something that far back in their collective memory, and there were so few of them left he simply considered the knowledge out of reach. He paused in his speech for moment, brow knitting together at the next part. Zeratul sounded a lot less energetic about this part, but it was necessary to get out of the way.]

Unfortunately, whatever greater plan the Xel'Naga had in mind, we failed to meet the lofty requirements. Our gods turned their backs on us, and left us without explanation. In our grief over the abandonment, we turned on one another, one tribe blaming the other for driving off our benefactors. It was... a bloody conflict, that spanned lifetimes and consumed generations with a hatred that they could scarcely recall. The Aeon of Strife, as it became called, remains at once something we wish to forget, but do not dare to for fear of it happening again.

[qilby listened just as thoughtfully as he could only assume zeratul had been, chin resting in his hand. his first response was to frown, the lower half of his face obscured by his fingers, and murmur a quiet "she didn't mention that, now..."

his second was to add:] You're certain it was a plan, then-- what they had for you? If so, why abandon their children, all the effort they put into raising them?

[and how typical of a race so reliant on their spirituality to fall to pieces when faced with adversity their gods couldn't wave away and fix. he'd always tried to make sure his kind were never that weak.]

[He made no comment to what Selendis had and hadn't said - she was, after all, more concerned about warfare, combat, and the future. He was a warrior only after a scholar, though the latter was rarely in demand anymore.]

I have spent the majority of my life following their footsteps across the galaxy, and while I have witnessed firsthand many wonders, I have yet to divine their true purpose. Whatever it was, we no longer fit the mold, and were thus left to see to ourselves for the first time since we could ever remember.

[And that's where he diverged from the Khalai, and their inability to lie adequately. Very, very few protoss had learned what the Xel'Naga had truly intended, and he wasn't about to share it with Qilby. No offense, but it wasn't something he really needed to know.]

In time, the mystic known as Khas returned my people to the peace we had once known, rekindling the psionic gestalt inherent in us all. So keenly tuned to one another's thoughts, feelings, and emotions, we could no longer hate one another as we once did, and began to rebuild what was lost. The tribal affiliations were all but dissolved, and our people were lead by a group of elders known as the Conclave. That, I suppose, is ancient history. Recent history... [He allowed himself a small laugh.] Well, I cannot say it is much quieter.

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003 (mar. 7) / video.

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action!

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