Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Splat!
Date:	00-03-29 02:32:37 EST
From:	magus@cyberverse.com (Daniel Polcari)
Reply-to:	ffml@onelist.com
To:	ffml@onelist.com

[This post is concurrent with "Eins von ihnen ist Hoffnung."]

Tyrmagest was annoyed that after only about a half hour had
passed since [he? she? it?] obtained a physical body, it had
been brutalized in combat. As if sulking, the Gage kept its
conversations with E'ris to a low din. Granatraeva was crouched
down in front of a hillside some miles from the site of its first
combat. E'ris labored to weave shards of drium into a patch
with which to reaffix Granatraeva's decimated tooth. The sun
had began to set by the time he finished the major repairs to
the beast. Minor cosmetic details and scratches would be tended
to by Tyrmagest during sleep. Speaking of Sleep, E'ris had not
done so for nearly a week now... Nor had he eaten. A short
foray into the woods found E'ris a large, healthy-looking
bear whose death came painlessly. He was tired, and as such
decided to build a fire rather than cooking the meat with
energy from his Drana. After consuming 30 pounds or so of the
best meat, E'ris was full and tired. He slept.

-=-=-=-=-

The Dark Lord, Thanatos, watched the creation of Granatraeva
and the battle between E'ris and Vincent with a look not often
spread across his face. It was almost as if he were perturbed.
E'ris had practically defied him by escaping from the Silent
Beach... And what's more, he had effectively recovered his
Gear as well. Worst of all, he found that he was no longer
able to interfere with the link between Seeker and Gage at
all..
"Well, young son of Eyar.. You have surprised me. We shall
see what plant the Earth rends forth when our sow-lines
cross again."
As E'ris drifted off to confident sleep, The Dark Lord
allowed his vision of the scene to cloud over quietly...

-=-=-=-=-

"Damn it all, Kilek! I thought you said you could read their
map?"
"I did! And I can!...At least, I think.. If I can just be
sure which one is north and which one is south.."
"You idiot..! You mean to say that not only did you walk
off not knowing which end of the globe you were heading
for, but that you also allowed 20 able-bodied moogles to
follow you!? SHIT! This is bad enough to piss off Mog
himself!"
"Oh, quit bitching at me, Tampax. It's not like we need another
20 regulars in the war with that psycho kid of Mog's running
around."
"I wonder if we're supposed to know about that or not?"
"Either way, we're not gonna get anywhere if you keep
arguing with me in front of the troops. If they don't
fear and respect me, who'll lead them? Obviously no
moogle but I is sexy enough to command them!"
"Uh huh. All in favor of throwing Kilek down yonder hill,
say kupo!"
The sound of 20 moogles Kupoing echoes across the scene.
"Hey, that's not fair! They're all bit-player moogles!
EVERYONE knows they can't say anying *but* kupo!"
"That's what makes it such an easy vote to win!
Heave-ho, boys!"
With that, several burly (comparatively) moogles heft
Kilek and roll him down the hill, placing Tampax in
charge of the 142nd Regiment.

-=-=-=-=-

E'ris was awakened seconds before the rolling moogle
struck him broadside, in time to leap into the air,
causing Kilek to roll into the mildly-living embers
of the previous night's fire.
"YARGHE!" he screamed.
E'ris was upon him within a second, and presently
the moogle was held out before E'ris by his left
wing.
"What the.. *chuckle* What are you? Was tha supposed to
be an attack!?" E'ris said with undisguised tones of
laughter.
"Jeezus christ! I.."
"Waitwaitwait, wrong story. I don't think we use that
particular interjection around here." Nagged E'ris.
Kilek blushed slightly.
"Uh..er... You spoony bard?" He uttered.
"I supposed that works."
"Anyway.. First let me say that I disagree with your
decision to make me answer questions first because I
have sooooo much that's confusing the hell out of me
right now like what the hell is that big thing right
there and who are you and how come you're wearing an
armor suit if you're sleeping and wh*oof*!!"
Kilek's ramble was abridged by a flick to the gut
from E'ris.
"Let me summarize my questions for you, 'thing.'
One. What are you?"
"I'm.. a Moogle."
"Very good! Two. Why did you just come tumbling down
that hill, interrupting my sleep?"
"Oh, well, you see, my friend Tampax he was just
getting a bit antsy with the trip and we're close
to the city but I guess he was tired of walking
so they, er, just wanted me to take a break from
command but I'll be back soon I know I will because.."
"Enough. You know, as far as I can tell, the nearest
town is more than 30 miles from here." E'ris noted.
"Oh, no. We should be right on top of it, you see,
when we left camp it was only 15 miles away and
we followed the map exactly, so.. Oh. Damn."
"Looks like you went north instead of south. Now,
three. You're armed, as are several others I've met
on my journeys. What is the war that's going on right
now?" E'ris questioned..
"Oh, the war? You mean this war? Uhm.. Well, I guess
I don't know! Yeah, Uh.. I just thought I'd look cool
carrying a sword and ordering people around, so I
impersonated some guy named Kilek. My real name's, er..
Always with Wings! (tm)"
E'ris hit him in the gut again.
*gruh* "Okay! It's Moogles vs. Humans, but some other
bastards called Reptites keep mixing it up too. I don't
actually know the cause of the war, but it's not the
first one! And, Dammit, we're winning!"
E'ris threw him back to the ground.
"Well, you're quite a good sport. I appreciate the
help, really. Now, maybe you'd.." E'ris was
interrupted by a disgusted groan from the top
of the hill.
"Dammit, Kilek! I leave you alone for 5 minutes and
you start talking to a human. Sickening! Maybe I was
wrong to come back and let you come along with us!
In fact, I think we'd best dispose of you two.
Can't have any traitors traipsting around! ATTACK!"
A small wave of Moogles waving spears, swords,
and clubs surged over the hilltop, shouting in odd
mooglish voices.
"Tampax! Dammit!" Kilek grunted.
"He called me a Human. He's obviously not very observant."
As the first moogle attacled E'ris', hitting his armor
with an unimportant clang, it was reduced to a twitching
vegetable by a deadening reverse kick delivered to the spine.
"Whoa, they don't hold up well, do they?"
The moogles continued to attack. Kilek, despite his
arrogant and weak appearance, proved to fight quite
well. He parried a pathetic spear-lunge and lopped off the
arms of the assailant while deflecting a sword-blow off
his shoulder-guard. A moment later, the sword's carrier
was bleeding from the gut and Kilek was on the move.
E'ris found no danger in the fight until he was struck
hard in the back of the knee by a spiked club.
He tottered slightly among the thinning crowd of moogles
and found that they wasted no time in swarming him.
He managed to throw off the majority of the clingy ones
by firing bursts of force from his palm. One shot
connected well and smashed the nose of the moogle well
into its face, resulting in a fatal brain hemmorage.
Meanwhile Kilek had finished his share of attackers.
His sword dripped with lukewarm blood as he finished
off the moogle whose arms he had first cut off.
E'ris stood from among the crowd he fought in and
killed all the remaining moogles with a deft slash from
his massive sword. Tampax had run off during the battle,
undoubtedly to hand in a report. These creatures would
likely become a problem in days ahead. What's this?
On the back of his armor, below which lay his ass, there
was a large, milky-white splatter which easily contained
two ounces of fluid.
"Wha..wha!?! My god! They tried to fuck me!?"
E'ris groaned in disgust as he and Kilek busied
themselves dealing with the bodies.

-=-=-=-

Well, I've never written a post involving moogles before.
In fact, E'ris had been well-nigh the only character
in my posts thus far.. So feedback would be appreciated.
Now, I'm tired, so goodnight. :)



+----------------------+
| Daniel Steven Polcari|


Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Back on Track 
Date:	00-03-31 15:49:47 EST
From:	magus@cyberverse.com (Daniel Polcari)
Reply-to:	ffml@onelist.com
To:	ffml@onelist.com

[This post occurs a day or two before "Super Tuesday."]

"That makes all of them.. But how're we going to start a fire?" Kilek inquired.

Without a word, E'ris pulled Kilek out of the way and took up a stance in front
of the pile of small, furry, white bodies. A thin green line traced wildly along
connecting his solarplexus with the ground, and as it reached the funeral pyre,
the smell of burning hair issued forth as one of the moogles completely erupted
into sickly red flames and began vomiting black smoke. Upon closer inspection,
Kilek saw that the path along the ground which the beam had followed was now a
narrow strip of crude, heat-formed glass. Kilek's eyes widened enough to turn the
dim morning sun into a painfully bright ember.

"What the hell..?! Not only do you fight with a sword that makes the Buster
Sword look like kitchen-ware, you're a mage!" Kilek marveled.

"Don't pay too much attention to it. We fought, we won, I'm leaving." Said E'ris.

"Wa-wa-wait! Did you say that you weren't human? You look--"

"Shut up. I don't look like a Human. Humans look like me."

"What's that supposed to mean!? If you're not human, what are you?" Kilek asked.

"I am of an elder race called the Tak'ren Lota. I don't expect you to be able
to pronounce that, so you may refer to us as the Nereid. I have become stranded
on your world due to some...unfortunate circumstances involving my homeland.
As long as I am here, It is my duty to spread the Seeker caste's sphere of
influence.." E'ris stated without emotion. "So it follows that I must leave
in search of ancient human technology to further my purposes."

"Is that to say that the giant over there was made by *humans*!?" Kilek asked.

"No. Humans made a similar one from iron and ceramics, but it was destroyed.
This creature is called Granatraeva.. Made entirely from the hardest, heaviest
metal in existence.." He spewed.

"What're you going to do with it?" Kilek sounded concerned.

"I will destroy anyone and anything that provides an obstacle to my dominance.
Including the so-called Dark Lord!" He spoke these words into the sky.

Kilek inched away. "I don't think it's wise to tangle with him..! He's the
strongest being in existence so far as we know.." Said Kilek.

"What the people of this world don't know could fill all of throwspace."
E'ris chuckled. "For what it's worth, by the way, my name is E'ris, Gage
Seeker of Eyar. I commend you for your skills in armed combat.."

"Well, I am.."

"Kilek, former commander of the 142nd Standing Brigade of moogles, whose
mission imperititve comes directly from Mog. Who is Mog?" E'ris spoke.

"What the fuck!? How'd you know all that!?" Kilek ejaculated.

"I know.. a lot more than I'm told. Who is Mog?"

"..Uhh.. Wierd. Mog, he's the King of the Moogles.. Some people say he's
several hundred years old, but I've only met him once and he didn't look
a day over 15.."

"Whatever. I thank you for your..assistance. Undoubtedly you will not
be welcomed back to your..society.. after this incident, so you will
have to fend for yourself." E'ris knelt down in front of Kilek and
extended his palm a foot away from his furry torso. A small burst of
light followed by a loud clapping sound like a firecracker issued from
his palm, and when the light faded there was a moogle-sized black glove
with many joints laying in his palm. At the crests of the dominant
knuckles were stout-looking spines terminated with meagerly-glowing
irridules of white light. "Wear this glove and your sword will fly like
a sparrow, but strike like a bear.. And should you lose your sword,
your fist will be well-nigh as deadly."

Kilek donned the glove at once and it emitted two low bell tones in
rapid succession. Kilek walked over to a nearby sapling and drew his
sword. Within the flash of a second, he had chopped the trunk into
15 inch-long segments. "Hooooly shit! This is nice!" Kilek said with
the fascinated voice of a little boy with his first slingshot.

"You should have no trouble defending yourself thus equipped..
Yggidra go with you, Kilek." E'ris said as he turned toward
Granatraeva.

"Where're you going, E'ris?" Kilek asked.

Turning his head back, E'ris spoke forelookingly.
"I left a little something of mine underwater.. And shouldn't think
this gear here will have any trouble taking me to it."

E'ris floated eerily into the translucent cockpit of Granatraeva.
As the midsection clouded over again, the gear emitted a low growl
and turned toward the eastern horizon.. Four flight drives extended
from reticiles on its shoulders and two more followed from just
above its waist. The leaves on the ground were stirred into the sky
as Granatraeva left under full drive power, its jet-black hull
ignoring the sunlight as it sped toward the central ocean.

Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Homesickness
Date:	00-08-24 00:23:26 EDT

-=-=-=-

Granatraeva's flight drive performed as well as E'ris had hoped, bringing
him to the place he had sought. Not the ancient Human-made Gear Hangar
under the ocean; there would be far more conflict there than was worth
engaging in for the small treasure of Drium he would find there..
Not only that, but he sensed that something far more powerful than himself
was dwelling there. A bad risk.

Granatraeva stood still over the water, roughly right above the spot E'ris
sought. Disengaging its flight drives, the immensely heavy beast plummeted
into the water like an ugly rock. It sank for a time far longer than the
depth of the ocean should have permitted.. into a mid-ocean trench so small
that even the surveyors of Figaro and Doma had never chanced upon it.
Ten.. Twelve.. Fourteen miles below the ocean floor he sank, finally stopping
next to a silt-drowned crack in the abyssal wall. Granatraeva's weapons
surged out energy, clearing the crack of its obstructions.

E'ris felt a mild headache, no doubt due to the extreme pressure at this
depth. Even an all-environment gear model would have been eggshelled by
the enormous water-weight overhead. A representative gauge inside the
cockpit placed the pressure at 1,052 atmospheres. "Lucky thing we're not
in open ocean at this depth. The pressure could warp pure drium.." He
remarked to himself.

Moving slowly due to the protective seals it had been forced to enact,
Granatraeva progressed into the crack, E'ris observing as the beast's
shoulder spines rubbed chunks of the enclosing rock off.
"We're probably below the planet's crust at this depth.. Kaymat help
us if there is seismic activity before we clear the fissure." He
thought. He felt a strange sense of vulnerability here. He figured it
must be the sense of mortality creeping into him because of this
planet and all the dangers it presented. Natural disasters, hostile
beings, faulty physics...

E'ris' thoughts were interrupted by a small ray of light now shining
down on the cockpit from above. Granatraeva had left the fissure and
entered a sort of columnar grotto. As the pseudo-gear rose up above
the water and onto the semi-solid ground, the pressure gauge all but
righted itself. The ward he'd set up here when he emerged from the gate
was still intact after all these years.. years whose number he could
not even remember now.

E'ris chose to open the cockpit rather than osmosing through it,
and set the beast to sleep. Walking away from the grotto's moon
pool a bit, E'ris brushed some fallen rock away from the rune he
had set on the ground. He sat beside it and absorbed his armor,
revealing the aged yet intact clothing he had worn on the day of

Eyar's fall..

Yes, that was what it had been. Eyar.. his home, until his
22018th birthday. He remembered that much, at least. A flood of
memories took control of E'ris' body and he began to weep..
He had lost so much, so long ago that he could scarcely remember
what he had--Strength, Knowledge.. Family, friends, emotions..
Love, even. All specters of the past which hid from his every
thought like rats in daylight.. Only Tyrmagest could truly
remember all of this. The Gage had remained silent since they
left Kilek to his fortunes not far from the battleground on
which its new body, Granatraeva, had been born. E'ris made no
effort to converse with the Gage.. He merely sat beneath the
runic stone, awash in the violent ocean of the past, little more
than a piece of driftwood staving off his drowning.

-=-=-

"Moogles. Hah! Who needs 'em? Worthless bastards.."
Kilek smashed a rock with the great force the glove placed in his
hand. He wandered, although not aimlessly. He had a destination..
"Nothing worth saving, there. I hope the humans win this freaking
war! Dammit. And if I ever catch Tampax, I'm gonna gut him!
GRAAAAHH!!" Kilek screamed in rage as he destroyed whatever he
could find in his way. A tree, a road sign.. It didn't matter. He
was disillusioned and overly pissed off. He wanted to kill something,
and NOW. Sweat had formed on his brow as he blindly attacked whatever
he could find, but he knew he must catch Tampax before he was able to
return a report to Mog and bring reinforcements. He may be stronger
now than he was before, but he also knew there were limits to what
he could handle.. He set off to the north, following Tampax's sloppy
trailmarks. He would have the blood of that wretch on his sword by
daylight.

-=-=-