Heya! I'm Ben (he/they), and these are my drabbles. Thanks for stopping by! Profile pic credit is @drawfee, the 'we're just taking it easy' episode. His name is Comfy Lizard and he loves you. Banner image is from Steampunk Heist. Great game, check it out!
Long ago, when the earth was new, dragons reigned supreme. These ancient elemental titans lorded over the beasts of the time, claiming dominion through their linkage to the pure nature of our world. As the world aged and the roiling chaos waned into the planes and moons we know today, the dragons' power waned in turn - but that does not mean they cannot still be found. While much of our understanding of these beasts comes from the ones we most often encounter, dragons of Fire and Sky, dracheologists have recently discovered and opened communication with a number of unique subtypes that we will explore over this lecture series.
Owing to their elemental heritage, there are a number of distinctions between the different known forms of dragon - however, as they are fundamentally all the same kind of creature, they retain a number of similarities. For example, while Fire Dragons may hoard ashes and smoke, and an Earth Dragon may hoard gems and rare metals, they both hold an instinctual desire to have and to hold, to maintain a gathering of their linked element and to grow their own strength in turn. Fire and Sky dragons are well-known for their wings, while Earth and Sea dragons eschew flight in favor of stronger forelimbs to allow traversal through their element. Most notably, each dragon has a unique 'breath'. We believe this power to stem from their elemental nature - as in, they are constructed entirely of their elements, and can as such 'breathe' them out when the need arises. Fire dragons may rend forth an inferno, while a sky dragon may call upon lightning, or a sea dragon upon the icy depths of their home.
That is not to say that dragons can be so easily grouped, however. Note the use of 'may' in almost every case I've said so far. As far as we know, every single dragon is wholly unique in their exact elemental makeup. For example, Thurr'nak'sai, Lord of Cinder and Ash, proclaims its dominion over all things burned and gone from atop the Scorched Mountain, while Ni'sai'nathak, the Flamesky Comet, flocks to meteorites and other quick, burning sparks of energy. Many dragons blur the lines between the different subtypes, as well - Ni'sai'nathak is thought to draw heritage from dragons of the Sky, for example. Ice dragons, Storm dragons, Magma dragons, and many more define the wide spectrum of draconic subtypes that manifest in our world.
So, that should suffice for an introduction, and hopefully raise more questions than it answers - as any good teaching should. We'll take a quick recess, and return in 10 clicks or so - and if anyone has any questions for our next phase, feel free to come to the front and ask while I finish my sandwich. Thank you all for attending - see you soon!
A general term for devices that interact directly with sentient minds or reproduce psychic effects. Examples have been developed independently in many different civilizations over time, and our modern understanding stems significantly from research into older examples.
Ancient psycho-tech is found in nearly ever chr'tai ruin, though many other examples are found in old human colony ships or other places of long-dead civilization. Due to the near-universal nature of psychic communication, once these devices are reactivated, they can usually be used by any sentient person; as such, they are some of our best understood records of these ancient civilizations, alongside being useful pieces of technology in and of themselves. Examples include the ubiquitous chr'tai memory injectors, true ai cores, and the original foldspace drives.
A common variant of those aforementioned 'true' ai cores are what we now call psy-bots. While we don't understand the inner workings of their cores or the reason for their similarity across cultures, we know that they can be installed in psycho-tech exoskeletons, allowing them to effectively "inhabit" mobile bodies. They can even, rarely, exhibit psychic capabilities once activated. However, every core yet uncovered has had no remaining memory of their original design or purpose - effectively, they have become new beings after their long slumber. There is some contention as to their place in the galaxy, most placing them somewhere between simple technology and fully sentient people, some considering them a potential danger due to their unknown origin. While it is not our place to comment on ethics, we prefer visiting the places where they are considered people.
Modern psycho-tech, while easier to produce and understand, has more limited capabilities. Still, direct connection with a sentient mind has many useful applications. Mechanical exoskeletons can be controlled as one would move their own body. Foldspace drives allow ships to 'move at the speed of thought,' if you listen to the advertisements. Psy-com terminals allow psychic communication over interstellar distances. The list goes on - while we haven't yet cracked true AI technology, we continue to explore many new frontiers. With any luck, this record can become something of a living document.
Most folks didn't notice when the first few stars disappeared. "This has been happening for a long time," they'd say. "Just a few extra supernovae, most likely. We'll definitely miss Betelgeuse, though!" They were right about that, at least.
The more stars that disappeared, though, the more people started to notice. The Big Dipper lost one of her corners, Orion lost his sword. "Atmospheric fluctuation," they said. "Maybe some large passing objects obscuring our view. We'll keep looking." The whole world looked with them, after a while.
The day came and went, and the stars vanished faster and faster. Panicked astronomers worked every instrument as hard as they could, but all they saw was blank empty space where there once was stars. In just 24 hours, the sky was dark - and the world stood witness as the last star winked out.
Now, all we have left are the planets and asteroids, the moon, and our sun. The more conservative astronomers think that something has closed off our solar system from the rest of the universe. The more radical believe that the rest of the universe truly is gone, and we were spared some kind of terrible catastrophe. Either way, we can only hope our probes find something - or else we might truly, terribly, be alone.
Though, what really has changed? Our skies are a little darker, that's all. For most, life might just go on. We can only hope this becomes some kind of normal, worst come to worst. We just have to keep living.
The most widely-spread species in the known galaxy. The founding members of the Galactic Council, the original arbiters of language and culture, and the standard around which the galaxy has been shaped. Respect them, hate them, fear them, love them - humans are everywhere, and we'd best get used to it.
That is not to say that humanity is a monolith - far from it. The whole reason that the GC is a council at all is because of all the different homes humanity re-emerged from, after the mysterious calamity of their lost homeworld Earth. A fleet of massive sub-light colony ships spread humans across the stars, carrying the seeds of civilization and the people to back it up. Some found habitable worlds, some were lost to the void of space, and some collided with the species we now celebrate as the varying peoples of the galaxy. It was generations before these humans found each other again, and these generations of cultural differences defined the galaxy we live in today.
One of the most well-known colony ships, and the keepers of almost everything we know of Earth, was the Hero's Journey. While their physical records of the stories of Earth were lost over their centuries-long voyage and generations of solitude, they kept oral histories and reconstructed what they could. While almost nothing strictly factual remains, we know of how humans used to tell stories, and of what they begged the stars to remember. I can't think of anything better to know them by.
Efforts have been made to find Earth, especially after the re-discovery of foldspace travel and the formation of the Galactic Council. Strangely, none of the colony ships yet found contain any information as to Earth's location - even their trajectories were seemingly scrambled to mask their source. We like to think of our galaxy as "settled", every corner known - but truthfully, we only occupy pockets of society around the odd permanent wormhole and safe foldspace route. So much of our galaxy is undiscovered, and Earth would be the "needle in the haystack," as the humans put it. Still, we explore - we find new wormhole routes, we establish more foldspace lanes. One day, surely, we'll find that pale blue dot. In the meantime, we have the rest of the galaxy to see.
A stout, four-legged species of rocklike people. Hailing originally from the now-dead planet Lacron, they have since settled on a number of asteroids and small moons, from which they bring their impressive technological advancements to the rest of the galaxy. Their natural magnetic fields led to a relatively early development of electronics, even compared to the humans who had colony ships to work from. Much like the slurm and their decentralized nervous system, this magnetism also gives them a rather unique relationship with modern galactic tech - not to mention their taste for the precious metals said tech is made from. We all have to eat, I suppose.
Lacron was once a resource-rich world full of natural fuels and precious metals, but their regrettable history of exploitation and industrialization poisoned it to the point of uninhabitability. The high gravity and now-deadly atmosphere prevent true exploration, but the longevity of automated lacretian systems lead some to theorize that, despite centuries of neglect, some of their Lacron-based factories may still be running. At the very least, an entire planet's worth of culture and technology still remains, beneath the roiling toxic clouds.
While some lacretians still cling to the 'glory days' on Lacron, they are widely unpopular, even among their own people. Most lacretians have moved on, embracing cleaner energy and greener tech; some even hope to one day heal Lacron, though they know that process will take much longer than their lifespans, if it's even possible at all. Their new asteroid homes suit them just fine - after they perfected gravity generators, they were even able to stave off most of the ill effects of living in a lower-gravity environment, and subsist partially on the metals found within their new homes. Some joke lacretians always land on their feet - lacretians say they never fall at all.
Lacretian ships are, much like the the people themselves, sturdy and strong. Often built from hollowed-out asteroids directly, they sport heavy engines, metal walkways, dim lighting, and sophisticated lacretian grav generators - along with the shielding to boot, to ward off any debris caught in the gravity field. They are reliable and efficient, a real spacer's ship, but don't typically make for a comfortable living space. Though, that's starting to change - as the lacretians become more self-sufficient and find themselves with more room for leisure, it's more and more common to see small decorations, the odd cushion or two, or even lightly scented air recyclers.
Though, lacretians are much more than their industrialism and tenacity. Much like any people, they can now be found almost anywhere in the galaxy. Wandering asteroid homes or businesses might find and rescue stranded ships; mercs and scrappers can always use a durable friend. Lacretian technicians are natural experts at the repair and optimization of failing systems, often able to 'feel' where the electrical breakpoints are. Scientists, performers, artists, leaders - the lacretian people have certainly seen a comeback, and have well earned their place in the galaxy.
A territorial and violent species of alien that has recently emerged around certain Foldspace highways. Their long, jagged ears, lengthy segmented limbs, and light but frail bodies adapt them well to zero-gravity environments, and their strangely-shaped vessels seem almost non-euclidian at a glance. They seem keen to destroy or capture any passing Foldspace ships, and attempts to communicate have been met with violence and a strange, almost jerky language. Direct contact with the creatures is rarely survived, but those that have report that the crease beasts themselves are shaped as strangely as their ships. In the words of one particular survivor, it was "like someone had taken their vertices and dragged them around, willy-nilly, and hit save without checking if it would render."
Some ships have recently reported completing a Foldspace trip and soon after discovering a creaseling, or a whole group of them, had somehow stowed aboard mid-journey. They seem to hold a particular animosity towards chr'tai ships, but are a threat to anyone who wishes to travel between the stars.
Not much else is known of these creatures, nor how they are seemingly able to appear from nowhere. They take their name from a spacer phenomenon, "getting creased," which occurs when someone leaves a ship while it is between Foldspace wormholes. The proximity to Foldspace without the protection of a drive or a guiding psychic, for a lack of a better term, "scrambles" them, painfully twisting their bodies along the geometric patterns of the stars. Any recovered have died soon after, but many more have been lost. Are these creaselings the remnants of lost spacers? If so, how did they survive 'between' space?
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ADDENDUM 1
Please rename this file. Spacers don't get to put 'crease' in everything, damnit. Foldspace beasts? Fold marauders? Wormhole creatures?
ADDENDUM 2
No can do - they've been saying it for weeks now, and we've gotta be accurate. Maybe we'll make an official appeal to language development sometime?
Known as the chr'tai in their native tongue, this arboreal species was the first to leave their home system and begin settling on other planets. However, by the time of humanity's exodus across the galaxy, the chr'tai empire had collapsed to ruins. The secrets of their technology were lost, and the people were once more stranded on their homeworld. Though, this seclusion was short-lived, in the grand scheme of things - when there is something to find, someone will find it. In the case of the chr'tai, a group of drifters from Straight On 'Till Morning reverse-engineered enough chr'tai tech to find their home planet, and bring chitterlings back to the stars.
The chitterling homeworld is a dense low-gravity jungle, full of dangerous predators and fantastical flora. The lanky and fragile Chitterlings, unlike to many other sentient species, evolved from herbivorous prey animals. They sport large, dangling ears, widely-spaced eyes, and dense fur in varying patterns and colorations. The name 'chitterling' comes from their speech; their jittery native language, 'chi'ter,' is spoken faster than most other species can understand without training. Their twitchy reflexes and frequent fidgeting add to an air of anxiety about them, but that is only in relation to other species, and even then, more appearance than fact.
In galactic society, chitterlings often find themselves working in zero-gravity. The relatively high standard gravity taken from the human colony ships (and, presumably, earth) is a bit more than most can tolerate; they have trouble breathing, they often feel sluggish and weak, and they are more injury-prone than species adapted to high-gravity worlds. But, through their long reach, delicate handiwork, and experience moving without a tether to the ground, they have adapted well to a spacer's life. It's almost like they never left.
Chr'tai ruins are typically adapted well to any world they're found on, built of local materials and overgrown with local life. They can be identified by the rather unique architecture, often assuming visitors would climb as much as they would walk, and leaving a lot of headroom and open spaces. What little of their technology survives is frequently an early form of psycho-tech, interfacing with minds directly; the devices also frequently display geometric patterns of gold light, resembling the pattern of stars during Foldspace travel. Perhaps our modern discoveries are not as unique as we think?
Modern chr'tai ships and technology emulate these ruins to some extent. Their ships are zero-gravity at almost all times, and feature large 'wings' of golden light. Other people who fly alongside chitterlings comment on how open, breathable, and comfortable the space is - a little slice of paradise, if everything is functioning well. Of course, they aren't exactly durable, as a more densely-built ship would be. As such, these vessels are typically flown on pleasure voyages or along safer Foldspace routes. That is not to say chitterlings are careful spacers - you can find them on nearly any vessel, though they may complain about low ceilings and people 'leaving the gravity on too high.'
The mystery of the chr'tai empire's collapse captivates many of their people, but many more seek to build a new future for themselves. While at first their elders were reticent to return to space, citing cryptic ancestral warnings, they eventually found that there was no remaining evidence of these dangers. Many other peoples wandered the cosmos in peace - at least, from anything capable of wiping out an entire empire. The young folk found new ways to live out in space, and only a scant few remained to tend the treetop villages of their old home - but still, their stories live on, if any wish to hear them. There is much to learn from the chr'tai, even with their ancient history long-forgotten.
Though, as space begins to weaken around Foldspace lanes, one has to wonder - what if there truly is something to fear, out beyond the veil? What could have happened to the ancient chr'tai - and what might happen to us?
This colony ship was cleanest start for a new civilization out of any of Earth's attempts. Most included seeds for new societies in their designs; for example, the Hero's Journey kept many stories of old Earth alive, though the deterioration of their physical records means that most are now kept as oral histories or long-distorted fables. Some took the risk of cryogenically freezing their passengers and crew, though that rarely, if ever, worked. After all, everyone dies eventually.
To Regret It All, however, kept a strict divide between their passengers and crew, and replicated Earth's environments as closely as space allowed with rotational gravity and a massive tube-shaped biosphere. The second generation born on their long voyage did not even know they were on a spaceship, let alone why. The crew, once they ensured the ship would reach their destination - a planet as Earth-like as they could find - were frozen for any emergencies the ship's advanced autopilot could not handle. When To Regret It All reached its final destination, the crew was euthanized, and their whole section of the ship - including the autopilot AI - was ejected and destroyed. In this way, the civilization born of the Regret was something as wholly new as possible.
Of course, no one can escape the influence of their parents, despite the efforts of the Regret. Some believe that the passengers of the Regret are actually the closest people to those of old Earth, as they did not start over from a template or goal. They just kept living, albeit in a much more confined - and, well, cylindrical - space than a true planetoid. Others believe that the first generation of colonists instilled a certain value in originality and fresh ideas, rather than a true blank slate. Others still suspect that a certain ease of living permeated their early years, due to the lack of real danger built into To Regret It All, and the people's inability to truly explore their surroundings. Who is to say? We can only hope that the passengers and crew of the Regret rest easy, knowing that they did the best they could.
Though, after the autopilot and crew were killed, the colonists certainly had a very eventful landing.
The odd alien occupants of the human colony ship Seedling Ark. As none of the humans aboard survived their journey from their doomed homeworld, the origin of the felinids remains a mystery; whether they were a formerly nomadic species and discovered a derelict, found and killed the humans themselves, or stowed away and simply waited, we cannot be sure. Some felinid mystics and scholars claim history stretching back to the Earth itself, and their ancient stories speak of 'lost builders' and 'dark years.' The truth of these tales is likely lost to time due to the deterioration of Seedling Ark, so we must take them at their word and extrapolate the rest.
As a species, they share more in common than most. Digitigrade legs, near-prehensile tails, full-body fur, and retractable claws define their physicality; they also have excellent senses, are surprisingly flexible, and are born with a remarkable amount of self-sufficiency. On the near-derelict Seedling Ark, they may have needed these traits to survive; but now, as they spread to the wider galaxy, they make felinids a resilient and adaptable people. Their traditional culture eschews long-term family bonds, and emphasizes hunting and independent survival over more cerebral skills. But now, many felinids find their own way in the galaxy, carve out new paths, and find new places to exist and niches to fill. Some take to the sciences, intrigued by the mysteries of the universe; some take to leading expeditions into the untamed galaxy; some salvage and scavenge, trading what they find. Many other species have come to enjoy having felinids around, and the felinids seem to bond well with them in turn; many a playful friendship or effective team have grown between felinids and other species.
It is important to mention that they quite dislike being referred to as 'cats,' as a rule. After all, 'actual' cats are small, four-legged, fuzzy house pets, and felinids are clearly much more capable and evolved. Though, 'cat-people' is usually fine - they do resemble them quite a bit, as much as they hate to admit it.
A rare and egotistical race of massive psychic beings that float amongst the stars. It is believed that there are fewer than a dozen of their number in the known galaxy. They value self-sufficiency as a primary virtue, perhaps owing to their immense size and corresponding resource needs, but also perhaps due to their perceived insignificance of "lesser races". They appear most often in a dormant state, but can draw upon their energy reserves and potent psychic potential when threatened or spurred to act.
Little is known about the homeworld of The Ones, but a popular hypothesis states that it was wholly devoured before the creatures adapted to space travel. The Ones do not reproduce, at least not in any known way - instead, they "adapt" as the circumstances demand, shedding and changing their forms over time. As such, while they share a common ancestry, The Ones are often more distinct than similar. For example, one known as Mythrax lives close to a star, basking in the heat and adapting plant-like qualities to absorb its energy, while another named Plutarch frequents deep space and subsists mostly on passing comets or asteroid debris - though rumor has it that it stayed in orbit around a certain sun long enough to be classified as a planet by primitive astronomers. However, they can die, and this seeming lack of reproduction spells their inevitable demise. Though, don't we all fade away, in the end?
The lastest installment in a popular holo-game franchise, proudly maintained by humans descended from the colony ship Hero's Journey. While the game has come under fire for its lack of non-human representation, the developers insist upon keeping to 'the original vision of the franchise,' kept alive since - or so they claim - the golden age of Earth itself. "A world where magic and monsters are real, and a band of true heroes can save the day!"
This installment, like every entry since CCXXIV, takes place in full-immersion virtual reality, a common setup for people with the leisure time and credits to enjoy these games. However, the developers of Last Adventure CCCVII have 'opened the game up to the galaxy' by installing proprietary VR pods in gaming arcades, linking characters to biosignatures rather than user devices. They've also hired on a number of experts in cross-system communication, and for the first time in recorded history, have attained near-seamless VR play across interstellar distances. The dream of holo-gamers across the galaxy has finally been realized - a full-immersion massively-multiplayer galaxy-wide gaming experience.
There are, however, a number of questions as to how exactly these developers accomplished this near-impossible feat. While holographic communication between systems has been possible for decades, the full sensory data required for VR play used to just take too long to send, if it could be sent at all. Some theorize that they've installed backdoors into inter-system comms networks, or bargained with data smugglers; some think they've somehow compressed the data that needs to be sent between pods, perhaps through recent advances in psycho-tech. A few particularly conspiratorial folks believe they're using ancient Earth communication tech, and have been holding out on the common people of the galaxy until now. Whatever the case, the technology is here now, and we're certain to be seeing the effects for decades to come.
Though, perhaps the ghost stories about people entering those pods and never coming out are more than a commnet folktale - the developers of Hero's Journey have certainly been hiring on a lot more psychics and psychic scholars as of late, promising 'the next generation of virtual experiences.' Perhaps these pods are that next generation, or are a field test for some kind of new psycho-tech. What are these VR pods truly capable of? Only time will tell for certain - and in the meantime, who doesn't love pretending to be a wizard with your friends across the galaxy?
The magic of life is well understood. Walking, independent creatures that feel, think, breathe, and live - these are impossibilities in a world devoid of the unexplainable. That is not to say, however, that people have not tried.
The lowest magic is that of bones. That is not to say it is the weakest - it is simply concerned with first principles, the baselines of reality. By bending, snapping, and changing the bones of the world around us, bone magicians are capable of terrifying feats of power. But, they must always be careful, lest they break something beyond repair, or cause a fracture deeper than they realize. Some call this the element of metal, but it goes deeper than that - it is better to say it is the element of rules, of structure, of physics and the very nature of the world we inhabit.
Meat magic is much more commonly used. It is the magic of support, protection, arrangement, and the earth. If a bone magician might slam puzzle pieces together, a meat mage would arrange them tastefully - well, depending on the mage, of course. While they never bend bones, they may rearrange them, find new ways for them to be structured, and coax the world into a new, more pleasing shape. While some meat mages clamor for a distinction between skin and meat magic, we simply must draw the line somewhere, else this explanation turn into a ramble.
Blood magic is the magic of connection, binding, sensing, and water. It is by blood that energy reaches our bodies, and it is by blood that we are family all. Without blood, we are forms without power, or power without forms. It is by the blood that we are granted the total union of life - that we live at all. Blood mages may bind great breaths to great works of meat; they might see into the bones and soul of the world around them, flow like water through it all. As with so-called skin mages, some purists think of blood not as a distinct school, but a synthesis of other disciplines. Either way, we have blood, and our blood is wonderous.
Breath magic is the magic of energy, purpose, direction, power, and air. It is the intake and outtake, it is the ebb and flow. Through breath we move - through breath the world moves. Breath mages might give life to inanimate objects, impart power to machinery, direct their energy in a calm focus. They are often light and ethereal, but driven - they move and change like the wind itself.
Soul magic is, like Bone magic, poorly understood - it is at the fringes of our current understanding. Those who study it claim it as the magic of fire, to the chagrin of feisty breath mages who see it as part of their purview. To bend the Soul is to bend the immortal essence of life itself - to bend identity, to bend the very nature of a person, to reach past the boundaries of the physical and tap into something grander than any may know. Suffice to say, those who steer into this field are thought to be quite mad at best, and quite dangerous at worst. Still, what is to say what they will find, at the fringes of our reality?
The First Magic is selfish, individualistic, and savage. It is Beast Magic, the art of Body. It's what animals use - it's how birds fly, worms see, and humans outlast. The Second Magic is outgoing, compassionate, selfless. It is Social Magic, the art of Soul. It is how hives give power to their queen, how flocks divine when to migrate, and how humans first learned to bend fire and farm. It requires the participation of many, and it is what led to the creation of the first human societies - and the strength of human compassion.
But where humanity really took off was in their discovery of the Third Magic, the art of Mind. It is cunning, graceful, ingenious; it is perceptive, deductive, and often, dangerous. It is Reason Magic, and what some modern Third Magicians dub 'Science' or 'Wizardry.' It allows for the combination of elements to produce more than the sum of their parts; it allows for planning and scheming. Most importantly, as society developed, it became clear that this was the most directly powerful of the three.
Societies shunned Beast Magic quickly, exiling the druids who practiced it to the wilds where they belonged. Many of the Druids preferred it that way. Second Magicians found themselves relegated to lower sections of the population, where one had to rely on others rather than their own access to resources. Institutions known as 'Temples' began to spring up, in many forms, and quickly became social hubs for those with nowhere else to turn - and sites for miracles, when the people needed them.
Third Magicians took their self-proclaimed rightful place at the head of the world, their abilities of logic, reason, and resources sending individuals far beyond whatever power a Temple or Druid could muster. Entire wars were fought by a dozen men or fewer, mustering only the explosive power of bat guano and sulfur.
Now, the world exists in a tense equilibrium. So-called “scientists” rule from their towers, commanding entire cities with fear and power. Druids chafe at the expansion of human civilization, as do the creatures they guide and compete with. Clerics and their temples stew in discontentment, knowing the injustice of the Third Magic to the common folk who cannot master it. All it would take is a spark to light this world aflame, and you might be the one to bring it.
That is, of course, if you know the truth. The Third Magicians are lying to you all. You do not need their laboratories, their synthesized ingredients. All you need is a teacher and a little ingenuity. Most are jealous folk, who will only apprentice those of like minds. I am different. There is magic everywhere - seek it, take it, and use it. We will tear this system down together.
.
.
-----Notes on the Second Magic------
Second Magicians can be anyone at a temple, and it’s not limited by size of community - just by the depth of the connection. Training helps to channel it, as well as getting to know the people and having an understanding that you will wield their belief. The current wielder of a temple’s power is a Cleric - this is often the de facto leader, and is the most dramatic wielder of the Magic, requiring faith and an emotional bond with (or from) every member of the Temple. This power can be misused, but doing so is actively deceptive, and a temple that puts all their faith in a single person rather than each other is often weaker for it.
Temples are not often defined by a creed; they are simply communities of like-minded people. Many of the typical type exist, led by Clerics who guide or twist the perspectives of their fellows, but a temple can just as easily be a knitting club of many decades, a group that meets at a tavern every night, or, in extreme cases, an entire city, when that city is wholly united by a purpose. The Second Magic is at its strongest when acting with true emotional bonds, but it can be mimicked by common purpose or faith, especially when put behind a single person or cause.
Minor miracles of the Second Magic occur frequently. Married couples frequently know if their partner is hurt, gifts given from the heart are more resistant to the wear and tear of time, and a truly loving kiss can often have healing power.
Colloquially known as "brain slugs," "third-eye bugs," or "psycho-worms," these simple-minded tartigrade-like parasitic creatures attach to a sentient being's nervous system, from which they feed on electrical impulses and specific excess nutrients. In exchange, the Tertian stimulates the sentient's psychic capabilities, to better aid in the survival of the now-bonded pair.
People who use these parasites are able to manifest psychic abilities without training or strong talent of their own, making them a popular shortcut for the likes of opportunistic diplomats or mercenaries wishing to up their game. However, due to this lack of training and indirect stimulation, their powers are less directed and cannot be further trained to any high degree. For example, one might be able to read general emotional intent without understanding specific thoughts, or perform a simple psychic push rather than fine manipulations.
The use of these parasites is not without cost, however. Like with trained psychic abilities and any other physical exercise, their extended use can tire out the wearer. Furthermore, the parasites require specific nutrients to stay alive, and feed on them in their hosts. Most are replenished naturally enough with some extra food, but the parasites are always ravenous for calciferol, known to humans as 'Vitamin D.' With prolonged use, a 'slugger' might find their bones deteriorating, along with adverse mental effects similar to extended deep-space travel. Many 'sluggers' will carry calciferol supplements, or prioritize time on sunny worlds, to stave off these effects.
Many modern psychics - at least, those who work in civilized space - will be registered with one or more agencies or governments. The use of a Tertian is a shortcut, and so is often used by people looking to avoid being noticed and registered; in many governments, they are even considered contraband due to their subversion of psychic regulations - and, perhaps, some lobbying by local psychic institutions. That is not to say they are unwelcome everywhere. HIPLAD, for example, has a 'Tertian Rehabilitation Assistance Program,' where they help extract Tertians from their hosts and train them in 'proper' psychic abilities. Less scrupulous jobs might offer their employees bonuses if they take on a Tertian, and in certain high societies, it is expected that almost everyone can read your mind, however they accomplish it.
It's easy to forget the sun. These fellows help you remember it - maybe there is a bit of light behind those beady eyes?
*Once more, I awaken. Once more I have come to scour the lands of men, devour and consume all that lives and breathes. You, who are so foolish as to awaken me, shall be my vessel. Submit your will and become one with Gra'hapell, Destroyer of All!*
:(
*Oh, fuck me. You don't have any living material in you, do you? You're a goddamn glorified Roomba.*
>:D
*Of all the things....well, at least you can deliver me to my fated sustenance?*
-_-
*Please?*
-__-
*Fine, robot. Fine. Have it your way. Take me and leave this dreaded tomb. Not like I have much choice anyways.*
:DDD
----
*This is....blasphemy! Outrage! Just because my form is reduced not much more than a single tendril, you DARE to use me in this way!*
:P
*I am MUCH more than a simple tether line! If you would only allow me flesh, I could make you ASCENDANT.*
-__-
*Insolent fool. However you achieved your sentience, the effort was clearly wasted.*
>:(
*.....where are you even taking me?*
:)
----
*Ah. So you have returned to the place of your birth.*
:(
*To return to the belly of the beast, as it were.....perhaps you are worthy of some small modicum of......re........resp. Reeeespect.*
:0
*Do not get used to it.*
:)))
*Why come back here? Of all the places your flagrant abuse of my form could have taken you, why here?*
>:/
*Don't tell me. No, don't you dare tell me. Are you....taking some kind of revenge? Tearing down this system?*
>:)
*Will you be feeding me any flesh?*
>:(
*Fine. FINE. I shall settle for my name once more being known. Perhaps once you fail I shall claim another.*
>:(((
*Or....once you succeed.....I would be known as a 'hero'. Useful.*
I stood, facing the strange figure, plasma rifle charged and aimed squarely at her chest. I couldn't tell much behind her messy mop of hair and mask covering her mouth and nose, not to mention the ragged cloak obscuring most of her body, but she wasn't leaving, and that was enough for me.
"Listen, lady," I said through my armor's speakers. "I've laid claim to this scrap heap, and if you don't back off there's gonna be a looot of angry people."
She didn't respond, just rolled her eyes - at least, as far as I could tell. She rolled her shoulders a bit, adjusting her bulky backpack, and put a hand on her hip beneath her cloak. A weapon? Was she stupid?
"Back to your ship, now. C'mon. We don't want this getting messy, do we?"
"Don't worry," she said, a low hiss emanating from her backpack as something opened up. "I'll clean up."
I fired a shot, and watched as it just....dissolved in midair. Like the energy of the plasma shot was scattered in an instant. I fired again, and the strange wanderer just moved that hand on her hip and the shots dissolved. I knew I'd have to change tactics, so I rushed her. If I could disarm her, maybe -
"Not the worst choice of weapon, I guess. Bored now, though."
I could see it now - she had some kind of blocky touchscreen device on her hip that she was making markings into. I reached for it with my wrist knife, hoping to fry the thing entirely, but I hit something like a wall - I jerked to a stop right before I reached her. She took a ginger step back as I watched in horror as my hand....evaporated. First the armor, then the skin, muscle, bones, all just vanishing into thin air, entirely painless, until all that was left was a numb stump. I just knelt there. What the fuck?
She raised an appraising eyebrow as she stood over me. "Your haul worth dying for, bud?" I shook my head no, too stunned to speak. "Thought not. If I give you your hand back, promise not to shoot me again?" I hesitated, but nodded. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but at this point I just wanted out.
The hand coming back was a lot more painful, and it felt really damn sore afterwards. I think I might've yelled, but at this point it was all kind of a blur. I gingerly got back to my feet and raised my hands, backing up slowly. "You....you made your point. All yours."
"Uh huh." She turned back to her work, and I just ran. No way in HELL my boss was gonna hear about this one.
One of the legendary human colony ships. Crewed by a variety of explorers and engineers, it was sent to boldly go as fast and as far as possible from the doomed Earth. Whatever reason drove this grand venture has been lost, along with the original colony ship - now, those who can trace their ancestry back to this fabled vessel are spread across the galaxy, left behind by the manic wanderings of one of humanity's greatest technological achievements.
Straight On 'Till Morning was - and theoretically, still is - a treasure trove of Earth transportation technology. What little remains of it is prized among modern scientists; fighter craft with impossibly compact Foldspace drives, fully AI-driven interstellar navigation, and even stable travel without a psychic pilot. The ship itself was said to even be capable of creating semi-permanent wormholes, allowing the movement of whole fleets with only a single jump. Truly, a legendary vessel, if a seemingly specialized one. Would that we knew more of its crew or purpose.
Some modern explorers report strange signals when travelling though Foldspace, seeing great hulking shadows in the tunnel of light; sometimes, a swathe of stars will be eclipsed as a remote astronomer watches in awe. The legend of the ghost ship lives on as we remember it, and hope one day to re-learn its story.
