There's more to this than just running around as mercenaries right? I get that's a kommando's wet dream, but you can live out your childhood dreams and discover a new civilization. That's what I did.

>Be me
>Be sick of all the usual elf, dwarf, orc, and goblin nonsense.
>There's more to Fankasia than this right? 
>I was expecting more… exotic races
>I heard a drawn out rumour of moth like people and that was enough for me
>Threw everything into a magic bag of holding and set out
>The story said they lived far to the north.
>When I say far, I mean very, very, fucking far north
>Arctic tundra with little to no day time far north.
>The region I'm currently in has 20 hours of night, and four hours of day
>Yet there's the oddest thing, one would expect it to be a frozen tundra right?
>It's not.
>It's more akin to a temperate early to mid fall. 
>There are trees with leaves and greenish grass
>You know that cool night air you get as the sun goes down?
>Where it's crisp, moist, and tantalizing? That feeling lasts forever here.
>This amazing area is already worth it, moth people or not.
>Maybe latent fire magic helps to warm the area?
>Dead dwarven furnace that had a melt down?
>I scribble various landmarks into my book for when I return.
>I sit by the river and wash my face.
>What if there are moth people?
>How would I even meet them?
>Sit back and stretch on the bank of the river
>turn my head
>and there's a person
>wait what?
>They're sitting 20 feet away on a stump, reading a book.
>It looks up and we make eye contact
>After the brief period of disbelief we both stand there unsure what to do
>I wave my hand
>It waves back
>I take a step forward, and it does the same.
>The constant night time makes it hard to see them
>They have an odd profile, making a shawl? 
>Beetle person?
>They have antenne, tipped with lights
>they're blue
>no… this is a moth person

>They're humanoid but with pale, white skin
>the "whites" of their eyes are a pitch black.
>black sclera
>The irses hover like that picture of a blackhole.
>It has two pairs of insect like arms that remind me faintly of exposed skeleton arms
>but fluff runs along the outside of them
>on top near their collarbone is a collar of fluff like a sheep.
>The shell is like ivory.
>The moth's antennae tilt towards me.
>We stand in awe of each other.
>I'm as alien as it is to me.
>I slowly extend my hand to shake its
>it follows and its hand aren't cold like I'd expect it to be, rather its warm.
>Like the ceramic of a tea cup
>"M-M-My name is Anon."
>I expect it to speak in some language or hopefully english.
>It eyes just widen.
>It throws off its shawl to reveal its wings.
>that wasn't a shawl
>holy shit its wings
>They unfold and open
>my god it's full of stars
>They glow in the night light.
>Each wing is a canvas, colors and shapes swirl inside of it
>The luminescent glow reminds me of the calm moonlight
>in the same way some parts of fog may shine brighter in the morning light, so do little flecks of its wings.
>It smiles and nods.
>The wings shimmering and glowing
>Slowly, but surely the smile slowly fades.
>did… did I miss something?
>it hurriedly points to its wings
>"uhhh yes they're beautiful."
>the same shimmering and glowing appears again.
>I meekly shrug my shoulders
>"Can you talk?"
>It frowns and bites its lower lip in frustration.
>winglightshow.gif
>I shrug again
>I stomps its feet in anger
>shit shit shit
>please don't eat me
>Then something downs on the moth
>It runs over and picks up its book
>Timeline by Michael Crichton
>It flips through the pages
>It looks long and hard at one
>Then concentrates
>the ambient aurora borealis of its wings begins to take shape
>H
>I nod
>E
>L
>L
>O
>"Can you understand me?"
>It flips through the book again
>the glowing swirls combine into letters
>each one is very wispy, like smoke in the air, or bolts of lightning.
>Y
>E
>S

>"You speak through your wings?"
>"Y. E. S"
>"That's amazing!"
>It looks confused
>"I LOVE IT! So do other moths communicate through bioluminescence as well? Does the wavelength matter? Are there colours only moths can see? How can you 'read' the language?"
>It smiles and nods along
>"What's your name?"
>The wings flash like a strobe
>think i'm gonna have a seizure
>"uhhh"
>There's a small noise of fluttering and chittering instead
>t-t-u-u-u-u-r-r-i-i
>"Tuuri?"
>Its head goes from side to side before nodding
>"I don't suppose you can introduce me to more of your people, Tuuri?"
>"Y.E.S"
>It flies off
>The way it flies is far different than a fairy or harpy
>fairies hover
>harpies flap
>Moth glide and swim through the air
>The moonlight catches its partially transparent wings and it casts a strong beacon downwards
>Suddenly the moth lands and blushes
>It opens its book
>"Y. O. U. C. A. N. T. F. L. Y"
>It points and extends its hand
>time to meet more moth
>The moth is as excited to meet me as I am to meet it.
>"Tuuri how many more moths are there?"
>It stands to think
>"M. A. N. Y."
>Tuuri stands somewhere between 6 and 7 feet.
>Her wings have a span nearly twice her height.
>She takes great pride in them
>They shimmer a lemon yellow with washes of sky blue.
>The tips of her wings are a dimmer blue, somewhat like the lights you see on planes.
>Every so often Tuuri turns back, sees my awe, and smiles triumphantly.
>I ask simple questions only yes or no
>She's getting better at signaling as we walk along
>"Can every moth fly?"
>"YES"
>"Have you seen many humans?"
>"NO"
>Tuuri stops before pointing for me to get onto the ground.
>I obey and go prone
>Tuuri glides up to a tree
>There isn't a whole mess of flapping like a harpy
>or the loud take off of a fairy
>It's a wolf
>It hasn't seen me yet

>Tuuri flashes a smile before pouncing onto the wolf
>Her wings flash in a sudden storm of red and black
>With furious yellow eyes
>The wolf whimpers and runs off
>wow
>I was expecting to have to use my rifle
>Tuuri pushes through some brambles and beckons for me
>it's a glowing field

>thousands of flowers that have the same soft, but bright bioluminescence of moth wings
>I bend down to look at one
>It lays somewhere between a tulip and rose, but they open up and the petals are comparatively short
>From the inside come two antenne
>they look exactly like a moth's
>they're even tipped with a light
>I look out towards the field and there are both red and blue flowers scattered everywhere
>The antenne are a soft small glow
>but inside are buds that remind me so much of christmas lights
>there are three per flower
>If you've ever seen a big city from above at night, and seen the grids of light
>This field is so much like that
>They smell like warm honey…
>Tuuri picks the flower
>she eats it
>is this a joke or?
>"Do you usually eat these?"
>"YES."
>"Is this a crop like corn or wheat?"
>"YES. YES."
>"Do you grow anything else?"
>"NO."
>Tuuri leads me through the rest of the field.
>"Do you eat the red ones?"
>"NO."
>"Are they poisonous?"
>"YE-- N-- ???"
>"ahh so just not good to eat?"
>"YES."
>She picks a red one up and mimics an explosion
>"they're explosive?"
>"NO."
>She beckons for my rifle.
>It's an STG-44 built by an elvish smith, my pride and joy
>I gingerly hand it over
>She handles it far too adeptly for… a tribal?
>From her clothing it reminds me somewhat of natives or mongols
>More like old finnish clothing actually
>She points at a bullet
>Her face is furrowed with concentration as a bunch of black spots appear on her wings
>Then she points at the red flower once more
>"gunpowder?"
>"YES YES YES"
>wait
>growable gun powder
>in a post konvergence world, gun powder is already very valuable
>these moths are sitting on top of a metaphorical oil field
>but this oil field grows and can be harvested regularly.
>it's endless
>christ the strategic and geo-political implications
>gun powder flowers
>there's a pop and I hit the ground
>FUCK
>Tuuri laughs and points to a red flower
>it looks like it's popped
>the petals lay on the ground and the antenne are gone
>There's a cloud of glowing red dust that falls on the blue flowers
>another red flower with long antennae pops like a firecracker
>"is that good?"
>"YES"
>time to put the 2 years of biology I took into action
>"is that pollen?"
>"YES"
>time to be sexist cause colors
>"are the red flowers male? And the blue female?"
>"YES"
>fitting the male flowers are the ones that explode…
>"What are these flowers called?"
>More flashing from her wings that I can't understand.
>Along with the flashing comes that high pitched chittering and deep fluttering
>h-h-e-e-h-h-k-k-u-u
>"Hehku?"
>Tuuri nods happily
>close enough I guess

>Tuuri beckons for me to come with her again
>fuck I wanted to learn more about the flowers
>There's a small homestead
>Usually one would call to whoever is inside, but since moths can't "speak" Tuuri flies over and knocks on the door
>I assume her mother answers the door
>Tuuri's wings are a bright hurricane of light blue and hot pink
>But her mother's wings, especially after seeing me, are a gloom of gray, green, and brown
>Her father comes by and has a more mute wind of pink and navy blue upon seeing me
>eventually they let me in
>I'm sat at the dinner table
>Tuuri serves as a translator
>Her mother doesn't seem to like me much, but takes great interest and stares at my STG-44
>Her father is pretty ok with me. Keeps his distance. Though welcomes me.
>In their kitchen lies a grain sack, but instead of corn. It's a dark navy blue powder that gives off a soft glow.
>Inside their wings are folded to their bodies, but still visible.
>Her mother instantly steps in when we begin to talk
>"YOU. BRING. WAR."
>"what? NO! I just came to explore."

>She's not satisfied with that answer
>The father puts his arms between his wife and I.
>"DO. YOU. BRING. WAR."
>"Again, of course not."
>Tuuri explains a little something to me
>"OTHERS. BEFORE. SOME. KIND. MANY. NOT."
>"I don't think you should lump me in with the others."
>"NOT. HUMAN. ELF."
>"Elves?"
>"THEY. FIGHT."
>"Over the flowers?"
>"YES"
>Again Tuuri's mother steps in
>She has pulled out an elvish rifle, some odd enfield looking design
>She lays it on the counter and compares it to my STG-44
>"ELF. GUN. BAD. HUMAN. GUN. GOOD. YES. NO"
>"I'd say yes, human guns are better."
>The mother's eyes widen and a broad smile forms on her face
>"GOOD."
>The father doesn't harbor distaste for it but rather wants to clarify.
>"GOOD. FOR. MOTH."
>They all are fairly willowy.

>"I don't know. Do you have guns?"
>They all nod
>Out of Tuuri's neck fluff comes a Colt 1903 that appears to be crafted from stamped parts
>From the kitchen comes a sten-esque carbine.
>A longer barrel, and it feeds from the top with Bren sights on the side.
>"MOTH. GUN."
>I look at them.
>Kind of haphazardly built but would stand up for sure.
>Looking at the house.
>It feels like they're still living in medieval times.
>They all appear similar to the elvish gun, like they copied the elves' homework
>All of them are loaded with some pistol round. 
>this… this isn't gonna fight off anyone except mice.
>"Rifles?"
>The father points to their carbine
>"RIFLE."
>"But do you have bigger guns?"
>"NO."
>it makes sense, they're all so damn willowy I think .223 would break their spines.
>Inspect their bullet
>The primer glows the same exact way the flowers do.
>Tuuri's father changes the subject and declares that "WE. WELCOME. HUMAN."
>I feel like there's marital tensions in this family.
>or politics? I don't know

>They give me a meal of meat (beef thank christ) and what amounts to mashed potatoes but made from the flower powder
>I notice as they eat the ambient luminescence of their wings grows
>They already glow stronger when they try to speak or feel strongly
>"Does your luminescence come from the flowers?"
>"YES."
>"What if you don't eat them? Like just food and water?"
>"DIE."
>"You need them?"
>"YES."
>that freshman biology is slowly coming back to me
>the flowers give the moth life
>the moth also protect the flowers
>the moth give the flowers life
>Hell even the antenna on both are the same.

>After the meal Tuuri and I go back outside.
>"LIKE. TANK?"
>"Tanks?"
>"YES."
>Tuuri flies off excitedly
>Again I'm struck by how beautiful their flying is
>It still reminds me of gliding more than flapping
>Tuuri eventually returns
>blushing again
>"YOU. CANT. FLY."
>We walk back through the flower fields.
>along our path is a lake.
>on one side of it, there's a small pond.
>This pond is bubbling and steaming
>reminds me of a hot spring
>Tuuri notices my interest
>"You have hot springs?"
>"YES. FROM. LAVA."
>"huh"
>"LAVA. VERY. IMPORTANT."
>My watch rings
>oh thank god time for sun
>The night is nice, but sunlight is a bit nicer
>As the sun comes up, the pond stops bubbling
>huh
>I look back at the fields.
>All of the flowers are slowly dimming
>As the sunlight touches the Hehku flowers they turn a shallow gray hue
>Tuuri follows their example
>Her wings dim and wash out to a more gray, brown, and leaf yellow 
>much more like a normal moth
>"Are you ok?"
>"YES."
>"What about the Hehku flowers?"
>"YES."
>"Are they going to die because of sunlight? Does it hurt them?"
>"NO. NO. LAVA."
>"Then why did they turn gray?"
>"LIGHT. GRAY. NO. LAVA. NO. LIGHT."
>"They use lava to glow?"
>"YES. MANA. GLOW."
>That makes a lot of sense
>I'd assume they have extremely deep roots to reach the magma chambers.
>I know mana can be converted from heat energy, but it has to be an immense amount.
>That must be partially what the glow is, and so when moth eat it. They glow as well with this latent mana.
>It makes sense since they have such a close living relationship.
>thanks biology class

>A couple minutes later I see a tank out in the distance
>OHH BOI
>It's a ww1-esque one.
>I'm so enamoured by it, I almost miss the fucking trench in front of me.
>Tuuri catches me and flies over the trench.
>Her wings are silky…
>Her fluff is soft…
>Her stamped Colt 1903 is cool to me, in both senses
>I look back and see the trench is overgrown.
>A couple mana Hehku flowers rarely appear, not nearly as many as in the fields.
>Guess they really struggle to grow in the wild.
>Product of domestication? Or just a weaker plant?
>If they need extremely deep roots, I'd assume nearly all of the young ones die to the regular attrition of life, before setting down deep enough roots.
>But then how come there are so many flowers back in the fields?
>Do the roots grow at a similar pace as bamboo?
>Tuuri taps on my shoulder and leads me along the edge.
>We get to a trio of tanks
>Two blown apart like tin cans after shooting them with 7.62
>The last is mostly intact
>It's beautiful in a somber kind of way
>I recognize the elf insignia on the side.
>Moss is all over it, grass and dirt have begun to build up near the base of the treads.
>I kick it.
>It echos inside.
>Tuuri stands watch with her 1903 as I walk around the tank
>She's a great guide
>Thank god first contact was with her
>This is the start of a great thing for both history and science.
>Two Hehku flowers lovingly sit to each other next to the hatch.
>This is only a couple miles from the fields…
>Tuuri folds her wings and hops into the tank
>I follow
>There's a huge boiler in one corner and two machine gun ports on the front.
>"COOL."
>"Yes very cool."
>Tuuri extends her wings again and the entire thing begins to glow like a pillow fort.
>I rest my STG-44 against the side of the tank.
>The grass growing inside gives it a nice cushion.
>I lay back before realizing, hey… resting on hard, spikey, rusted metal bits isn't a good idea.
>fuck I should have picked the other side.
>Tuuri laughs, as in her wings flash.
>I sit in another place in the tank
>I run my conceptions of moth biology by Tuuri.
>structuring most everything in simple, yes or no questions
>She confirms most of it, while issuing little corrections.
>As it turns out, the Hehku flowers have been a part of Moth life since forever.
>For some reason, that even the Moth aren't privy to, the mana flowers will grow when Moth tend to them, but often die in the wild.
>The roots grow at nearly the same pace as bamboo, but it's near negligible since the roots must penetrate so deep to reach magma chambers.
>These magma chambers are what gives the region its temperate fall climate, compared to the arctic tundra surrounding it.
>I scribble down everything in a book to keep track.
>It takes the rest of the night.
>we fall asleep in the tank.


>Tuuri's mother wants to bring me to the town to see their Moth Armory.
>The town is a quaint little village.
>Many tribal colours are strewn across the outside of houses and stores.
>Again, slightly bioluminescent.
>Each home is shaped a little bit like a mushroom.
>The base is built of sturdy rocks and the top layers are some sort of plaster.
>In front of them there is a smoke stack next to the door.
>Yet the oddest thing is that in front of each house is a small circle of flat ground.
>A moth leaves its home and spreads its wings before flying off.
>Yet before it really begins to soar, it aims itself to glide above the smoke stack.
>Where upon flying above, it gains a lot of altitude
>elementary school science.exe
>"Tuuri? Would the smoke stacks make flying easier?"
>"YES. HOT. AIR. HELP. FLY."
>There isn't a street per say, rather a small dirt path in between homes.
>It's not used much and a little overgrown with grass
>The Armory looks out of place.
>Compared to the grayish white buildings in the town, it's composed of a dark red brick.
>It stands ominously on top of a hill.
>Like a fort.
>We step in to see many Moth working.
>The ceiling is high so many fly over.
>I can see them fabricating a small stack of that same sten-esque carbine.
>Each Moth engineer eyes my STG-44
>Yet they're skittish and don't want to come close.
>If their only exposure to the /K/onvergence world was a war with elves, I kind of understand.
>To be sitting all on your own to only have someone try to hit you over the head would make anyone wary of others.
>They can't exactly "talk" either
>People are scary after all
>The armory suspiciously lacks machines.
>Most of the parts are being made by hammering metal into shape.
>Moth's aren't exactly "strong" so that must take forever
>But one "machine" catches my eye.
>It's akin to a cold hammer forging machine

>The machine has the hammers, but instead of being hammered normally
>There are four ducts with moth next to them.
>They flap their wings in sync
>Driving air into the chamber
>After the hammer falls, the air puffs out a pair of vent holes. Likely from the heat of the pressure.
>Inside I can see something suspiciously similar to the gas rings of an AR-15 bolt.
>direct impingement hammer forging
>huh
>they haven't figured out stamping, yet they figured out hammer forged barrels.
>"How are your barrels? Do you stress relief them?"
>"YES. HEAT. BARREL. GOOD. BUT. NOT. SAME. SHAPE"
>"Are they losing their shape?"
>"YES."
>Tuuri's mother shows me a pile of reject barrels.
>One look down the bore tells me everything
>There are imperfections and swells
>Time to use my gun autism
>"Do you guys know what barrel lapping is?"
>"NO."
>The moth are giddy
>"If you plug the barrel and fill it with molten lead. You can force it out the other end. You can examine it to see any imperfections."
>I speak slowly so Tuuri can translate everything
>"This lead plug is much softer than steel, any imperfection with scratch or deform the lead. If you pour an abrasive and lubricant on it. Then work it through the barrel most of the imperfections should come out."
>This is how the original Dutch AR-10 barrels were manufactured by Artillerie-Inrichtingen.
>"If hammer forging is possible, you could stamp metal parts as well instead of hammering them out by hand."
>"WHAT."
>Point to the strange DI hammers they have going
>"If those operate as hammers, maybe they could be used for stamping out the metal parts of guns."
>I bring out my STG-44.
>"This is manufactured from stamped metal parts, if you stamp the metal, then you don't need to use metal that's as strong as milled parts. You can make many with one machine."

>I think I'm just confusing them
>I doodle an AR bolt carrier group on a piece of paper
>I turn the gas key around
>I draw a block of metal going in, change the bolt to be an upper die shoe of the stamping machine, and draw a shaped metal part going out.
>I doodle a moth above flapping their wings into a duct to drive air pressure into the "stamp carrier" and another below using air pressure to drive it back up.
>The moth engineers walk up and frown at it.
>They seem to like the idea but…
>One of them grabs a pencil.
>They erase the profile of the carrier group and simply make it a cylinder.
>Then he adds a rails on the side of the carrier.
>I kinda just had it floating in the air
>hahaha boy do I feel dumb
>Another engineer gets in on the drawing
>He adds a locking system on the upper half of the carrier (much like an AR bolt and extension)
>The extension is put on top of the rails and bolted into the ceiling
>He then draws another set of gas keys on this locking mechanism and adds metal inside the carrier, creating two gas chambers.
>A lower die shoe gets added beneath the upper die shoe
>Vent holes for the upper half of the stamping carrier are placed farther away
>I assume for the gas pressure to continue to give the stamp carrier momentum.
>fuck these guys are smart
>my idea is there.
>kinda… it's more like an architect fixing a little kid's drawing of a house to be practical.
>Their use of DI systems is genius.
>They have neither access to steam, electricity, or hydraulics.
>Instead they make do with their ability to generate air pressure from their wings.
>I wonder if the ghost of Eugene Stoner is speaking to the engineers in their dreams.
>The other engineers join in on the planning and designing of the stamp.
>Tuuri's mother is overjoyed
>Tuuri is not
>"MOTH. MAKE. GUN. BY. HAND. GIVE. LOVE. TO. GUN"
>"oh."
>"HOW. YOU. KNOW. STAMP. WORK. MAKE. MORE. PART. THAN. HAMMER."

>that question hits me like a truck.
>For one thing, I don't fucking know if it would even work.
>I feel like I just gave a bunch of kids some matches and a lighter
>The Soviets had trouble getting their first stamped AKs to work and had a high rejection rate of parts, so high in fact they turned back to milling.
>The fact their barrels have such a high reject rate doesn't bode well for the future.
>Another thing is that even if a gun works as a tool room prototype or manufacture
>It doesn't guarantee it will work when mass produced.
>See the Colt All American for an example
>as well as how the US government lined up the M1941 Johnson as a possible replacement for the M1 Garand in case mass production failed.
>"STAMP. BUILD. TAKE. LONG. TIME. MAYBE. MAKE. MORE. PART. BY. HAND."
>"You have a point."
>I can see some moths melting down rejected parts for metal.
>Nothing goes to waste and I assume they don't have the infrastructure like dwarves or elves to get massive amounts of metal.
>The cost of building a proper stamped parts system may be more than simply doing it by hand.
>I see a couple moth arguing and pointing at the ceiling.
>They already are doing force equations 
>That's another problem.
>The ceiling might not be strong enough to serve as a locking area for the top of the stamp carrier.
>I'm still amazed the moth are able to even willing to try using wing pressure to work a stamping machine.
>wait
>HOW ARE THEY ABLE TO DO THAT
>I look at the moths at the hammer forge
>the amount of air pressure needed to work a cold hammer forge is immense, in fact it's impossible to even get that kind of air pressure with wings.
>It's probably impossible to get that air pressure to begin with
>My mind wanders to the mana flowers and how the moth use it as a bioluminescent for their wings
>Maybe they're casting spells?

>Reach into my bag and pull out a mana detector.
>It's a pair of goggles that I used to locate mana to help me survive on the trek north.
>I turn them on and am blinded
>WHAT THE FUCK
>Turn down the sensitivity
>The wings of each moth are practically boiling with mana
>I look up to see some moth flying through the factory
>that's strange
>when their wings move down to flap, they dim a little bit and a cloud of mana appears near them in the air, and on the upward stroke of each flap, the cloud teleports underneath their wings, and are absorbed into their wings.
>from the number readings, it appears a tiny bit of mana is lost each flap.
>that's… fucking amazing
>they don't fly in the traditional sense, but by using mana in order to move air pressure under their wings.
>I look at the hammer forge and the same thing happens, but the air pressure is thrown into the pressure chamber of the DI hammers.
>By focusing their attention on the hammer forge, they are casting air spells into the pressure chamber, and that's what gives it the insane amount of pressure needed.
>"Tuuri do Moth use magic to fly?"
>"NO. MOTH. JUST. FLAP. WING. NOT. MAGICAL. RACE."
>you say that but…
>I watch as the moths begin to rig up some prototypes.
>Tuuri, Tuuri's mom, and I leave for lunch when a whistle sounds, signaling the end of shift.
>I'm brought to a restaurant where all the other engineers eat lunch as well.
>I think it's a sandwich shop.
>As I sit and just take in the rustic pub like scenery, a couple engineers ask to inspect my STG-44.
>They take it apart and look at every single detail.
>Marking things down as they go.
>These moth are very studious.
>If the elves are on the verge of kicking in my door, I'd build up my homeland to defend it as well
>There's a small choir singing in the back. 
>It's a lot like accordion music, but with buzzing and humming.
>Reminds me of a happier, kinder bees

>My sandwich is made of bread with a slight navy blue hue to it, it doesn't glow though.
>It's like raisin bread but with petals instead.
>I nibble on it.
>Tastes a lot like a cross between rye, sourdough, and sweet bread.
>Inside is a meaty paste of more flower made of ground up bread
>"Hey Tuuri?"
>"YES."
>"The bread is made of flower right? And so is the filling?"
>"YES."
>"Isn't this a bread sandwich?"
>Tuuri is caught off guard.
>"If the filling is bread, and the outside is bread, then it's a bread sandwich isn't it?"
>"NO. THEN. IF. BOTH. BREAD. IT. LOAF. OF. BREAD."
>"Aren't loaves of bread technically bread sandwiches as well?"
>"SHUT. UP. EAT. FOOD."
>Tuuri smiles and her wings laugh brightly.
>A moth engineer taps Tuuri on the shoulder.
>"STAMP. NO. WORK. METAL. BREAK. NOT. ENOUGH. METAL. TOO."
>He has a metal part and drops it on the table, the thing bends in half.
>well now I feel bad.
>He leaves and I go back to eating my food, defeated
>At another table I see a moth mage doing a little trick.
>She has a small block of metal and a bunch of wood chips.
>They get dumped into a cup with a helping of sap
>The sap rapidly darkens the wood, like water in a paper towel.
>She begins humming/singing like an accordian.
>The song sounds suspiciously like Come Out, Ye Black and Tans

>She takes a stone rod and mushes the wood and steel together.
>They actually melt and fuse together
>When she's done she pushes her fingers into the mixture to create two holes and drags another beneath.
>The wood and steel mixture is dumped out and it's a smiley face
>The material looks a lot like early bakelite and fiberite plastics
>Essentially petrified wood, but with steel
>It looks like the wood fibers are woven together and now held together by steel which acts as a resin.
>The fibers are a dark gray, while the "epoxy" steel is a regular gray
>The mage tosses it up and people clap.
>It hits the ground, hard
>Still comes up perfectly fine though.

>hah that's fu--- WAIT
>"I didn't know you Moth could transfuse wood and steel, you essentially petrified wood with steel."
>"NO. MAGIC. THE. SAP. JUST. DO. THAT."
>it_just_works.toddhoward
>ok but I'm 90% it's still magic.
>"Can we use it?"
>Tuuri shifts in her seat
>"IT. IS. TRADITIONAL. ACTIVITY. NOT SURE."
>I guess it's like porcelain for China
>Certain methods are just used because they have always been.
>I explain my idea to the engineers.
>Instead of stamping just metal, we can transfuse it with wood and sap, by applying pressure the petrified wood can be shaped, and can then be used for gun parts.
>Back at the factory I watch the engineers rework the stamp machine.
>holy shit they work fast
>the whole thing is already built.
>steel is put on top of wood slathered with the sap
>The stamp is dropped onto the materials.
>and out comesssssss
>holy shit
>It's the body of one of their carbines.
>An engineer looks at it carefully
>Prizing it like a father looking at his first born son.
>Then fucking smashes it against the side of the press
>He throws it on the ground and stomps on it.
>do Moth have a tradition to throw newborn babies against the wall?
>It comes up fine.
>VICTORY!!!
>They do a couple more runs, and change the "die" to form other parts.
>Before each run they fiddle with the vent holes
>With each progressive run the carrier gets more "musical" as it lifts up and down.
>Sounds like an accordion
>hell it sounds like the mage in town.
>"Does the sound of the carrier matter?"
>"THAT. IS. HOW. WE. PETRIFY. IS. TRADITION."
>I mean I guess maybe the vibration from the musical notes could help? 
>seems like pigeon religion
>The plan is for me to come back in two weeks after they fabricate more stamping machines.
>According to the engineers they believe that all carriers are running then the cumulative sounds will allow the parts to have greater strength than just from one lone stamping machine.
>a very good day

>It's been two weeks since visiting the armory
>In that time span Tuuri has become a much better translator
>We can communicate full sentences
>Back to the factory we go
>First I think they're bringing me to an accordion concert
>Then I realize it's actually the stamp machines working. 
>the air pressure in the carriers blow out through the sides in different pitches
>They have the stamps working up and down in sync
>It sounds just like Come out Ye Black and Tans
>The Moths even "sing" along with it
>With their weird bee-like buzzing
>The Moth propose that they need a new gun, especially now that they have the infrastructure to produce it.
>I got to handle one of their stamped Sten carbines
>holy shit is it strong
>I guess I was wrong… the musical element does help the stamping/petrification process
>I'm gonna miss their raggedy Sten carbines though
>I think I know exactly what gun would work here though.
>Metal stamping machines?
>IRA music playing?
>you know what time it is
>AR-18 time
>I try to replicate the thing the best I can from memory
>Ummm it has the folding stock
>There's the charging handle
>mag release
>two recoil springs
>it has that funky carrier for the bolt
>then there's the gas system
>Again the Moth engineers take over and tweak the design.
>They throw out the folding stock and make it a rigid one piece
>One of them tries to put the magazine to feed from the side
>he gets slapped in the back of the head
>they add another recoil spring
>The charging handle is redrawn to be more like an AK's
>The carrier gets its length cut in half
>The bolt face is reshaped for their weird Moth bullet
>Everything else pretty much remains the same
>The Moths begin to try stamping out their parts
>"Anon come see. The flowers please."
>oh fuck I want to see how they convert the flowers to gunpowder
>The room they do it in is eerily similar to a high school chemistry lab
>why tf is it so dark in here
>my teacher Mr. Dew is maybe hiding somewhere
>A Moth is taking the red Hehku flowers and placing them in a stone oven
>like for pizza
>ok… but if they're slightly explosive I think that's a bad idea
>The fire from it is a purple colour.
>Inside the glowing petals start to pulsate
>A couple minutes later they're removed
>The reloader Moth pulls out a tray of empty cartridges
>Tuuri motions for me to come closer
>I peek over her glowing wing
>the room is dark so it's like when I'd play with a flashlight under my blanket as a kid
>The ambient light of Moth wings let me see a little, but the brilliant glowing of the petals is stronger
>The cases are just .30 Carbine but judging from the couple times I've seen the Moth fire their Sten carbines. It's just a much weaker version
>The reloader Moth goes slowly, he folds a petal so it presses against the walls of the case
>he balls up another, puts it in the middle, and then fills it with the same tree sap they use for the wood-metal petrification stamping
>The bullet is put in and the round is finished
>I see little fibers on top of the bullet, a lot like the patterns leaves have
>huh
>"Tuuri, why does the bullet have those fibers?"
>"Help bullet break. Hits and breaks."
>"Inside a person?"
>"yes."
>The Hague Convention HATED that

>"If you guys are going to have a new gun are you going to have a new bullet?"
>"Why need bullet? No big bullet?"
>fuck I remember now
>they're too willowy to shoot anything intermediate or above
>hmmm
>I wonder how far we can push it though
>What about 5.7x28mm FN?
>wait no the elves we might be fighting don't have body armor
>What about true .30 Carbine?
>we can do better…
>I remember something
>Back in 1963 Melvin Johnson (who made the M1941) made a cartridge based on .30 Carbine, necked down to a .22 for a .224 bullet.
>He called it the 5.7mm Spitfire Carbine, built on converted M1 Carbines
>small caliber high velocity before small caliber high velocity
>with this wildcat .30 Carbine it was a 40 grain bullet going nearly 3000 fps from the muzzle
>discount 5.56 in a way
>we could try using that cartridge
>Tuuri translates it to the reloader Moth.
>He likes the idea but has qualms about chamber pressure
>"All gun built. No high pressure."
>"But if you're using an AR-18 style gun, the locking stresses will be in the bolt. That's the point of all the locking lugs"
>he still is hesitant
>"I'll shoot it myself."
>About an hour later he has 500 5.7mm cartridges made
>fuck Moth work fast
>In that time Tuuri and I explain the new bullet to the engineers, who rework the stamp machines (again)
>ok now the machines are playing Me Little ArmaLite
>they didn't seem too happy
>I watch as they assemble their first Moth AR-18 in 5.7mm Johnson
>The magazine is smaller for their gun to fit the pistol rounds, reminding me more of an STG-44 magazine than an AR pattern
>The metal still has that strange interwoven fiberglass pattern
>There's no aperture or front sight post though
>ummm what
>I don't want to be a dick
>but u kinda need sights to shoot
>The Moth engineer senses my confusion and pushes a button on the side
>I THOUGHT THAT WAS THE WINDAGE KNOB
>A spectral blue dot appears between the rear sight wings

>I'm pushed by the crowd of Moth to the shooting range
>They give me the gun
>Then back away
>aw fuck
>Insert the magazine
>Pull back the charging handle, it's surprisingly butter smooth
>Let it go and shoulder the gun
>Line up the spectral blue dot on a target
>hey the target has long knife ears… I wonder why
>Pull the trigger
>shit I'm still alive!
>but that fucking muzzle blast and flash jesus christ
>It's like getting socked in the head
>Fire off the rest of the magazine before I have to put it down.
>have a headache now
>must be the "gun powder" from the Hehku flowers.
>Tuuri runs out
>"Are you ok?"
>"Yeah… that fucking muzzle blast."
>One of the engineers steps forward
>"Gun works good. But very loud."
>"We can fix that."
>Back to the factory floor
>If we're following everything Eugene Stoner did
>DI carriers, AR-18s, .22 cartridges, I mean we might as well go all the way.
>time to rip off the AR-10
>I sketch out the flash hider the original 1950s one had
>It was a large hollow cylinder locked onto the barrel, Its face was a big hole where the bullet left, and around it were many smallers ones.
>now anyone who has shot next to someone with a muzzle brake knows it ain't fun
>The beautiful thing of this design was that not only did it reduce flash thanks to the small holes only letting some unburnt powder out, allowing it to burn quicker and weaker
>see the Cutts compensator like for Thompson Submachine guns for a good contrast 
>but it also reduced recoil, Melvin Johnson described it reducing the AR-10's recoil by some 40%
>AND best of all, thanks to this large expansion chamber inside the muzzle brake, it actually reduced noise

>only issue though is that unburnt powder builds up inside of it, reduces the effectiveness, and without cleaning can actually increase muzzle flash as the powder can start to burn inside
>other issue with this design they settled on making the muzzle brakes out of titanium
>I dunno about you, but Moth don't exactly have a lot of titanium just lying around
>nor do they have the technical skill to machine it
>Before the pencil is even put down the Moth swarm it
>They start to draw orthographic previews and cutaways
>"Hey Tuuri you guys wouldn't happen to have titanium would you?"
>"What is titanium?"
>shit
>"Do you guys have anything that holds heat well? Or else that muzzle brake will break."
>we made this gun we can't just give up now
>time to go material hunting
>and yes I'm bringing the "oh christ the muzzle blast is drilling into my skull" Moth AR-18.



>"Why is there lava?"
>"Lava is good."
>"Not really…"
>The heat from the lava pool is burning my face
>it's a lot like having your face next to an open oven.
>When we were going to look for a good flash hider material, this isn't what I had in mind.
>I decided to check the furnace the reloader Moth was using.
>It stood to reason that if it could hold purple fire and not melt, it would be a good material for the flash hider.
>The furnace was made of a black tree called "Blightwood"
>It's a kind of wood that doesn't burn somehow
>There was a forest to the north of the armory that Tuuri and I could get some wood from.
>Before we left the reloader Moth made me some tracer cartridges after I mentioned the concept
>They've never made them before as Moth can already see well in the dark.
>He just scooped some ash out the furnace and tossed it in some bullets.
>these Moth are surprisingly crafty and kind
>I really wish they told me Blightwood grew above lava pools.
>It's more like a giant damned lake of lava.
>You know how in Minecraft you can see lava pools from far off at night?
>It was the same thing here
>I was initially confused why Tuuri was leading me towards it
>Any of the usual crisp night air is gone, and replaced by a dry corrosive heat.
>Tuuri points out a couple Blightwood trees
>they look more like mushrooms
>The trunks are an obsidian black, and the leaves are all around the top in the shape of a mushroom cap.
>Think of a bonsai tree
>"Why do they have to be above lava?"
>"Lava help grow. Lava is good. Tree need warmth."
>It makes sense they can't burn if they grow above lava pools.
>Just like the Hehku gunpowder flowers they rely on lava to grow. 
>Where the flowers convert heat from magma chambers to mana
>I think these use ambient heat somehow.
>Tuuri taps my shoulder and points to a bigger tree, this one has striations all along the trunk.
>"Watch head fall."
>Sure enough the entire top of the tree cracks off and fall into the lava
>It falls head first
>that was anticlimactic

>Suddenly I hear a loud hissing coming from the tree's remains
>The seed pods explode with a sound a lot like a 40mm grenade being fired.
>The seeds go flying into the side of the lava pool
>embedding themselves in the walls
>Both the Blightwood and Hehku flowers reproduce by using an explosion of some kind, it makes me wonder if they're of similar descent. 
>BLOOP.mp3
>ANGRY MOTH NOISES
>Turn around just in time to see Tuuri tackle me before another seed pod flies by my head
>I swear I felt it whistle past my temple
>It hits a rock and clatters to the ground
>Upon closer inspection they're much more like a cross between an acorn and a .30-06 round
>When I shake it, inside the "acorn" I can hear many seeds
>BLOOP.wav
>I peek above the edge of the lava lake to see another Blightwood seed fly into the side of the lake.
>Upon impact the acorn portion explodes and sends seed shrapnel along the curve of the lake.
>It explodes to the side rather than backwards back into the lava.
>that's a surprisingly efficient way to plant seeds.
>Literally just plant artillery that's powered by lava
>metal as fuck
>but this concerns me because Tuuri and I need to somehow cut a tree down, without the fucking things killing us with their seed artillery.
>They grow out of the wall and bend upwards
>"Tuuri are you strong enough to catch a tree trunk?"
>"I can try. Just cut carefully."
>I can see Tuuri's nervousness from the glow in her wings.
>They're as wavey as a lake bed before a storm.
>Ripples of gray on top of blue
>She flaps above the lava and looks for a tree.
>The ambient orange of the lava clashes with her nervous blue
>I carefully spelunk down to the tree Tuuri picked out.
>Before I can chop though Tuuri bathes the tree in purple light.
>I hit the region she lit up in purple, the wood is soft and gives way quickly
>I aim a little higher and it's hard like normal wood.
>Purple light isn't common naturally so I wonder why it softens.
>Maybe something to do with the wave length?

>The tree is wide enough for me to straddle it as I chop away at the trunk.
>don't fall don't fall don't fall
>every so often the lava pops beneath me and gives my legs a loving "kiss"
>We get out safely with the tree and head back to the armory.
>I step a single yard outside of the magma pool and am greeted with the heavenly cold night air I've come to love from the region.
>thank christ
>Tuuri carries the tree trunk on her shoulders.
>I thought Moth were supposed to be weak and willowy…
>glass cannons I assume?
>The walk is peaceful
>The atmosphere reminds me a lot of how night air would always fill me with such excitement as a little kid.
>Tuuri's joyful glow of her wings lights our way back.
>Except when they turn orange and the trunk drops to the ground.
>Tuuri tackles me and shrouds me with her wings
>She shushes me and points towards something moving in the treeline.
>I ready my Moth AR-18
>skull piercing muzzle blast or death, I choose muzzle blast
>Time to use the tracer rounds the reloader Moth gave me.
>There are three silhouettes
>they have long ears
>FUCKING. ELVES.
>maybe we can sneak away
>Gently push Tuuri away, my hand glances over her neck fluff
>soft…
>Motion for her to pick up the log
>"STOP IN THE NAME OF THE ELVISH EMPIRE!"
>A couple shots go over my head.
>I can see them impact the trees behind us
>"FUCK YOU AND YOUR EMPIRE!"
>Fire one shot at the elves
>It goes high and flies into the distance
>a purple comet piercing the black sky
>ANGRY MOTH NOISES
>Turn to look at Tuuri
>she's practically foaming at the moth
>her eyes are glowing red, her wings have changed to be a furious orange with giant angry eyes.
>ok… I think she might be out of it.
>Fire again and hit one of the elves in their leg.
>"AW FUCK"
>I hear angered fluttering as Tuuri charges at the elves.
>they're caught off guard by the 6-7 foot Moth with a nearly 15 foot glowing wingspan dive bombing them
>Tuuri pounces on the elf I shot.

>Like a feral dog she tears open his leg with her teeth
>"TUURI WHAT THE HELL?"
>The other elves don't know what to do and just watch in terror
>Tuuri begins to use her fingers and rips the flesh off the bone
>is she looking for something?
>One of the elves wises up and brings his rifle up.
>Catch him with a shot to the chest
>except I miss from the adrenaline and it to the side, hitting a tree
>Tuuri looks in rage, following the path of the tracer, her eyes dart from the shredded wood to the nearest elf.
>ANGRY MOTH NOISES INTENSIFY
>She tackles him and begins going full DOOM Marine
>His arms get torn off
>I think I'm gonna vomit
>I make eye contact with the last surviving elf
>he's as scared as I am
>He brings his pistol up to Tuuri's head
>Like he's about to execute a bear
>Shoot him in the chest twice
>Tuuri instantly cranes her head to see the glittering purple tracers flying through the air
>The elf is already dead by the time she gets there
>She digs into his chest looking for the tracers
>Her Moth vocal cords are making a sound surprisingly similar to "lamp"
>I run over and try to pull Tuuri off the elf
>She's mauling him like a mother bear would someone that tried to kill her cub
>"TUURI STOP HE'S ALREADY DEAD!"
>SHIT SHIT SHIT
>Grab her wings and try to pull her back
>it's no use.silver
>a couple minutes later Tuuri's frenzy fades
>she sits exhausted and embarrassed
>Tuuri is covered in so much blood she looks like a candy cane.
>It's like seeing the special Moth tracers tapped into some long dormant part of her brain
>which just set her aggression up to a 1000
>note to self, don't use magic tracers around Moth...
>Back at the armory I explain what happened.
>The entire time Tuuri tries to pretend she's not there
>despite dripping elf blood onto the floor

>the reloader Moth is surprised
>Tuuri translates but her bloody wings are a lot like trying to watch a stained TV
>"It looked rainbow. It was all. I would want. Wanted to protect. Think it Moth. When it gone. See elf nearby. Turn on elf. Already hate elf."
>Moth might see the tracer differently from the mana perhaps?
>If they're so in tune with the flowers and the tracer came from Hehku flower remains it kind of makes sense.
>"What if you saw a dwarf?"
>"Only would attack. If hate dwarf."
>Time to play armchair psychologist
>It's my assumption that the magic tracers trigger aggression in their head. It is only released if they see an enemy. That's why Tuuri didn't just rip me apart at the beginning.
>This might be something helpful in the future.
>We hand off the Blightwood to the Moth engineers
>They fabricate a flash hider by bathing the trunk in purple light from their wings
>It softens into a paste and they mold it.
>The soda can flash hider gets tossed on the Moth AR-18
>No more skull piercing muzzle blast.
>Even some of the Moth fire it.
>When Tuuri tries shooting it, her wings light up a joyous green and yellow.
>Victory at last.


>Its been a week since visiting the armory
>Tuuri's dad has let me observe as he tends to the Hehku flower fields
>As we walk along the fields he opens conversation
>"How are Moth?"
>god where do I start
>"Not all people. Nice to Moth."
>"Like with the elves?"
>He pauses and his wings dip a little bit
>"Yes."
>"Have you had many wars with them?"
>"No. This. First. Maybe."
>maybe?
>His wings furrow to his side nervously
>"Moth old race. Forget history. If Moth fight elf and dwarf. Don't remember. They don't talk. To us. They don't know we fight? They embarrassed? We don't know.
>"Are your relationships not very good?"
>This is a sensitive topic, I can tell his his wings now dim and are a gloomy cloud of despair.
>"We like others. Others don't like us. We be as nice. They don't like us. We be like them. They don't like us. We give up. Alone, not lonely.
>I… I get that, a lot
>"If we talk. We weird. If we don't talk. We weird.
>We finally get to the field
>The ambient glow fills the sky.
>Other moth slice through the sky, like comets
>They have a focused purple glow to their wings.
>"What are they doing?"
>"Checking for weed. Helping flower."
>"Wouldn't it be better to observe from the ground for a closer look?"
>He points towards them flapping their wings as they hover over the mana flowers.
>"Everyone know. Gently rocking baby calms it."
>"Yeah."
>"You know why?"
>"No?"
>"How did it start? Its strange rocking baby calm it. Why rocking?"
>he has a point
>"Same thing for Moth. We flap wing for flower. Soothe flower. Don't know why. Doesn't matter."
>Tuuri's father creates an air current over a patch of flowers.
>It's not a gale force wind, but more of a gentle fall breeze.
>The glow of the flowers slowly grows brighter.
>He flies off to tend to more flowers

>I sneak the mana goggles out of my pocket
>As before, when the Moth fly it's actually them relocating air under their wings to generate pressure allowing them to fly.
>This is accomplished with clouds of mana that dissipate from their wings
>As the Moth fly over the flowers, checking them and blowing air onto them
>This mana goes above the flowers, who absorb it.
>My assumption is that this acts as a kind of necessary fertilizer.
>Because these flowers only grow in large numbers when Moth care for them
>There are extremely few in the wild.
>They're so old and have lived together for so long, both the Moth and Hehku flowers can't live apart from each other.
>They have evolved together
>This may mean the flowers are domesticated, like how certain livestock would likely die if set out in the wild.
>It makes me wonder if the purple light somehow gives the flowers peace as well.
>Considering they glow blue and red, maybe the purple is a soothing colour combination to them.
>It looks beautiful
>I notice the border between the two fields.
>I realize the two fields are planted in different patterns
>One in a hypnotic swirl of alternating red and blue glows
>The other in triangles
>"Tuuri why are the fields planted like that? Wouldn't it be easier to just plant rows?"
>Tuuri flaps happily
>"Want both most beautiful and biggest harvest."
>ohhh like prize cattle
>"I assume it's tradition as well?"
>moths are big on tradition so this should score me some brownie points
>Tuuri flaps nervously instead
>"It's… we… uhhh…"
>Her "uhhh" isn't actually the word "uhhh" forming on her glowing wings
>Rather they're just swirling static.
>Her antenne fold close to her head.
>"Moth old right? Moth forget some things…"
>Heritage is important to give a sense of identity, without it you can feel empty
>"B-But Moth… Moth think we are great people. We find what being Moth means. We will. Just embrace history again. What it mean to be Moth."
>I can see it's a touchy subject, time to change it

>Reach into my bag of holding and pull out a "Fankasia Biology For Dummies" book
>scribble some notes about the relationship between the Moth and the flowers.
>Tuuri takes interest
>"Are Moth in the book."
>flip through it
>"N-No, they aren't."
>Tuuri is one of the few Moth to able to read english
>She opens to a chapter on evolution
>Her mood darkens, literally
>"Moth… Moth not important?"
>"I'm sure it's just because they were going to put you guys in it. Don't worry!"
>She sits on the ground, gripping the book tight
>"others don't talk to us. Don't bother to put in book…"
>There's a blinding light show of conflicting emotions
>"Maybe you could help me place you guys in this evolutionary tree?"
>she nods
>"It's theorized all magical races are descended from the Ancient ancestor. The one with long ears. For example, Oni and Orc are theorized to descend from a common ancestor also starting with an O. Goblins and trolls descended from the Orc, and Elves from the Oni. Dwarves came from the from the Ancient ancestor as well, on the same arm of the tree as kobolds a---"
>There's another blinding light show.
>"THEY. TALK. TO. KOBOLD. BUT. NOT. MOTH."
>Her wings are a blood red light
>uhhh
>ANGRY MOTH NOISES
>"WHAT. MOTH. DO. WRONG. WHY. THEY. NO. LIKE. MOTH."
>I gently put my hand around her tall shoulders.
>It brings her back down to earth
>she was lifting off the ground
>"It's alright… um… it's just kind of hard to get here is all. When I go back, I'll make sure you guys are added."
>Her wings pulse downwards to a gentle blue.
>Tuuri nods and hugs me, resting her chin on my head.
>Her neck fluff is soft…
>Her Moth arm clutch me
>fuck she's strong
>The hard shell clinks against my wrist bone, but sends an entire jolt of warmth through my nerves

>Her wings close in around me like a hug
>They remind me of a pillow fort, especially if you put a lamp inside of it.
>It rubs my cheek
>They're silky
>Tuuri eventually releases me
>"That enough learning."
>learning?
>Tuuri's father returns from his work
>we go back to the house.
>As we leave, I watch the purple comets of Moth flying over the Hehku fields
>It's surreal.
>How angelically beautiful all of this is.
>Like a neon starspace
>But it's trapped between stronger powers in the region vying for hegemony. 
>Considering the beef elves and dwarves already have, the elf must have declared war for the mana flowers to bolster their strength.
>To survive when sandwiched like this you have to be a strong power as well, but the only time you can test your military strength is by actually fighting. 
>In a way you're often flying blind
>The Moth are timid and shy, but just want friends.
>I can respect that
>The entire region reminds me of a pioneer town of simple farmers.
>Hell a majority of Moth are farmers judging from the expansive fields
>Most of them don't even want war or have great aspirations
>Their character seems to come from their agrarian society as well
>They just want to live independently and continue their age old self sufficiency
>The Moth cooperate more so on the basis of goodwill than anything else.
>Honestly, Jefferson would be proud.

>"You like fireworks?"
>"Who doesn't?"
>It figures the Moth adore fireworks
>The Hehku flowers reproduce via explosions and the blightwood trees spread their seeds via explosions.
>Explosions are practically a way of life here.
>Tuuri explained that much like harvest festivals in small human villages long ago, firework festivals fill the same role.
>Tuuri leads me out to the town plaza
>Tons of Moths milling around is a visual experience that blows your mind.
>Their wings are kept close to their body but are like neon panels into the stars.
>Especially with the mood, they don't even need any actual lamps.
>The crisp night air makes it all even more excited
>Tuuri pulls me in with her wing to keep me from getting lost amid the ocean of wing light.
>Her neck fluff brushes the back of my neck as we look up to the fireworks.
>The first rocket spirals into the sky. 
>It has a bright trail that streaks like a shooting star
>You know the feeling you get from fireworks?
>Deep thrumming bass in your chest, smell of smoke, the lights , and the pop of the explosion?
>That's baby shit compared to this
>It's like an artillery shell exploding inches away from your head.
>The light from the fireworks turn night into day, a lot like a flare.
>It's only a step away from recreational nukes.
>The Moth are having a grand old time, they fucking love it
>Everytime a firework explodes their wings shimmer
>It's like a chain reaction, a light show in the sky, a light show on the ground, and it repeats.
>this is comfy
>but as you know all good things must come to an end
>but at least the night ends without trouble...

>It's been a while
>almost a year since I arrived in the region
>Every morning, I'm still stunned by the glowing comets of the flying Moth
>their massive wingspan with light tipped wings whose light have the same depth as the water of the ocean
>I still sometimes jump out of my skin when walking through the Hehku flower fields when the reds explode to pollinate the blues 
>Despite this, I still adore the little magic flowers
>the way they are some odd combination of a tulip and rose. 
>with two glow tipped moth like antennae that waver in the soft wind
>I was able to watch a harvest as the Moth split the harvest in two
>flowers for food and flowers for ammunition
>the flowers are refined into gunpowder
>Their pride and joy is now the strange wood petrified with steel
>They have built more of the factories
>the Moth are extremely glad to have access to stamped metal goods
>From the factories you can hear the stamp carriers whistling away different songs
>I sit back on a tree
>I can see the snowy mountains to the south where I had first come from
>The same stream I met Tuuri babbles away just inches from me
>I sit back and fiddle with my Moth built AR-18
>Admiring the clean wood furniture
>the way the steel parts look as if they have been woven like fiberite
>deep swirls of black can be seen at just the right angle underneath the gray metal
>like storm clouds billowing 
>The etheral blue dot sight wavers ever so slightly between the rear sight wings
>I peek at the markings on the lower receiver
>The newer ones are stamped AR-18M
>even exported to some countries through traders
>The fields to my side are brighter than when I got here
>better "petri-steel" tools allowed for better productivity
>the Moth are slowly coming back from the dying state they have been in for the past generations
>I feel something silky, yet oddly fluffy rub against my back
>a moth wing
>A soft ambient, joyous pink glow comes from behind as well

>Later Tuuri and I sit next to each other in the original Moth Armory
>the machines have been moved out, now it is a true armory
>The Moth have begun to plan something
>the old elvish enemy to the East has taken care of themselves
>as in, the empire had a civil war and is more of a loose confederacy now
>with no real threat, too busy dealing with internal strife
>so what does one do?
>what does one do when they see their old enemies begin to waver?
>what does one do when they want to test their new found military strength?
>what does one do when their people have a greater, upward ambition?
>two words
>Nation. Building.
>This isn't to say the Moth are plotting world domination or desire to pick fights with their neighboring elvish and dwarf """friends"""
>quite the opposite
>The Moth general stands and points to a chalkboard
>outlining the region at large
>to the east lay the new Confederacy of the United Corner Kingdoms, or CUCK. Stupid name I know
>I still don't know why they chose that but ok
>To the west lay the dwarves
>but to the North, in a strange sloping curve reminiscent of the Italian peninsula, are the remains of what used to be the Moth Nation
>Due to an already weakened internal economy and panicked in fighting amongst Moth, the war with the Elves were enough to drive the collapse of the Moth into but a small region in the south of the Nation
>The Moth region is conveniently protected by the high Alpine like mountains meaning the Elves and Dwarves don't see it as worthwhile conquest
>the Moth do
>The General has plotted many paths for a small scouting party to take
>The vanguard of the Moth army will be concerned with rebuilding infrastructure and defense
>while scouts will have to contend with the threat of monsters who have encroached thanks to the latent mana in the area
>tl:dr - we have guns, we should use them, and explore. What the fuck more do you need than that?

>the "Alveare" district is a ruined castle town
>The skeletons of the stone remains stubbornly climb upwards, clinging to the air
>There are no Hehku flowers here
>so the way is lit by moonlight
>As well as Tuuri's wings
>they act as odd combination street and spot lights
>offering an ambient glow, but also a direct illumination from above
>The roads are a tightly packed gravel that fray at the end
>the ruins are surprisingly dark from this angle
>then we see a small light come over the edge of the stone
>Tuuri and I raise our guns
>"Moth?"
>"No Moth out here. Don't know what it is."
>her english has gotten significantly better with time
>The light grows stronger as whatever it is comes over the edge
>just as I lay my finger on the trigger of the AR-18M, Tuuri pushes my barrel down
>"BEE!"
>"Bee?"
>"YES! BEE! BEE GOOD!"
>Tuuri flaps her wings and I catch as face full of air
>She fly tackles the glowing thing
>it buzzes, but not angrily, more like a small child wanting to escape the grip of a grandparent
>Tuuri proudly brings it over and bends down to show me
>The bee is about the size of a soda bottle, and is all one shape as well
>It's surprisingly soft looking
>a lot like a soft animal
>it lacks the strong insect like appearance of a normal bee
>it's a chubby squishy little thing
 >reminds me of a cat or a dog
>it has similar antenne to the Moth, the tips glow green
>the wings themselves don't glow, rather they are a silky white sheen that catches the moonlight
>the rims of the wings are like a neon sign, green as well
>"Anon! Hold Bee! Bee nice! Bee good!"
>I gingerly take it into my grasp
>it shakes a little but simply looks up curiously
>it has two mammal like eyes and a mouth
>holy shit this is just like a plush stuffed animal
>in the white pupils in the middle of the oily black sclera suddenly I feel something
>an overwhelming sense of cuteness radiates off the bee
>I… I want to protect…
>holy shit

>Tuuri looks at me with a smile
>She takes it away and nuzzles her cheek against it
>the bee calms down as it resolves itself to being a toy
>I have to convince Tuuri to let it go, as in pry it from her arms
>"Bee not seen for many years. Bee thought dead after Elves invade."
>"Did they destroy the hives?"
>"Bee not live in hive."
>"Where do they live?"
>Tuuri shrugs
>"Moth say bee are borne of wind and moon. They just live."
>We follow the bee as it happily buzzes along
>I notice one little thing
>it doesn't have a stinger
>it has a machine gun
>IT HAS A MACHINE GUN BARREL FOR A STINGER
>The shroud is reminiscent of an MG-42
>I point it out to Tuuri
>"Bee… Bee not have… gun stinger. That not from before. Talkoot bee only have stinger."
>The Talkoot bee leads us to a town square filled with more of the bees
>they idly buzz from place to place, settling on old windmills and ruined store fronts
>they remind me of toy helicopters as one flies them through the night
>their lights are far more harsh than the soft allure of the Moth's
>Tuuri and I sit down as she excitedly explains more of the Talkoots
>"Talkoot bee very good. Talkoot bee help Moth. "Like human have dog and cat. Moth used to have bee."
>Her wings shimmer and flutter nervously, and her antenne bounce up and down
>The same bee from before settles down on her lap, and another of its friends settles on mine
>they're oddly friendly
>this one nuzzles into my chest
>the gun barrel stinger waving up and down as it wags it like a tail
>I pet it, running my hand through it's fluff
>I notice all the antenne tips are differently shaped for each bee
>much like snowflakes
>I playfully flick the glowing jellybean and the bee rattles
>it rattles like bolts in a tin can
>It buzzes a couple times before getting up

>the original bee eye on Tuuri as it settles on a rusting tank
>"Nukka! Bee name is Nukka!"
>She looks happily at it and in her cheery mood grabs me with her silky wings
>the bee lazily looks at a piece of rusting metal hanging off the tank
>then it bites it off
>It. Ate. The. Metal.
>Tuuri's face freezes
>her wing grip turns tight
>"Did they always do that?"
>"N-N-No? Bee don't eat metal. Bee eat Hehku flower."
>Then the bee begins to rattle
>It coughs up the chunk of metal, now entirely free of rust
>I take a piece of still painted steel and offer it to the Talkoot bee
>It refuses
>I snap off other pieces of rusted steel 
>one very rusted and one not very
>it goes for the rusted one
>"How long has it been since Moth have seen bees?"
>"Many generations… maybe… some millenia?"
>"You think maybe in that time because the Moth and Hehku flowers pulled back. The bees evolved to feed off the decaying metal remains?"
>We watch with great curiosity as Nukka works its way around the tank
>they don't have teeth, so they can't "bite" off the parts; however, it can swallow large parts
>its stomach must somehow pull the rust off
>I see off in the distance a yellow light
>the lights of the bees turn yellow, then rapidly turn orange as well
>they get up and prepare to fly
>Nukka snaps up, its antennae and wings now red
>It grabs its lower legs with the other four, bringing the barrel of its… stinger? Gun? Gun stinger? Whatever it is, it brings it up
>It fires into the bushes next to us
>it sounds just like an MG-42
>the barrel is red hot, but quickly cools
>The lights return to green and all the bees settle back down
>Nukka looks exhausted
>it flies to Tuuri, who pulls out some mashed Hehku flower paste, she gets some on her finger and feds it to Nukka
>the Talkoot bee suddenly nuzzles itself in her shirt
>resting the back of its beehead against the front of her neck
>the tips of the wings settling on her collarbone
>yeah… I'd want to settle there too

>I push open the bushes to find a goblin lying on the ground
>bullet holes riddle its body
>actually
>upon a closer look, they're more flechettes really
>We're bringing Nukka with us from now on
>especially if it can tell if danger is close
>I guess they are like dogs in a way
>As we wander through the town, more bees greet us
>they're friendly and poke at us playfully
>but as we near the edge of the ruined town, their lights turn yellow
>they begin to back off
>At a crossroads we see a Moth fort in the distance
>huge holes riddle the sides where its been shelled in the past
>The fortress resembles a Flakturm
>I can see the little tips of what might be Moth artillery
>As we get to the doors, the jelly bean tips of Nukka's bee antenne flicker between yellow and orange
>I shoulder my AR-18M
>the inside of the fortress is quiet as one would expect, but it's an uneasy one.
>as opposed to the quiet of peaceable, open wilderness
>Tuuri dims her wings as we peek around corners and clear rooms
>In the main keep we hear a squawk from above
>harpies?
>Up from above are three pairs of white pupils
>I fire a shot from my rifle and it sends one into a fit of chicken like clucking
>It hits the ground
>it's a rooster with a snake tail, as in the tail is an actual snake
>I fire another shot into it
>they're about the size of a dog
>More pupils open above us
>We fire wildly into the black expanse
>they drop down and both ends of the basilisks try to lunge at our necks
>I beat one over the head with the butt of my rifle
>Tuuri is going ape shit over them
>I watch as she flaps her wings to get upwards momentum, then empties a magazine into a falling stream of basilisks, and then comes down to body slam a horde of them
>her wings are a fit of blood red, also covered in blood

>She begins to simply stomp on their heads, saving her rifle for ones that jump at her
>I try to do the same but I can't get the same height
>I go to reload and a basilisk jumps at me snake first
>I pull out the magazine and pelt it in the head, sending it back into the circling crowd
>I hear a buzzing above the infernal hissing and cawing
>An armada of bees flap into the keep
>they dive bomb the basilisks as if tempting fate
>a couple do get bitten and sent down into the ocean of devilish feathers
>but a majority of them begin to pull up, and then fire their machine gun stingers
>in a matter of less than a minute the basilisks are all dead
>A couple of the bees chose to "sting" the corpses a couple extra times
>I wonder if there's a natural element of rivalry here
>basilisks are chickens with snake tails
>Talkoot are bees with machine gun tail stinger things
>either way Tuuri and I are relieved
>I'm sure the Army back in town will be overjoyed to learn about the return of the Talkoot bees.
>Nukka flutters down to the spent casings
>it does the bee equivalent of "sniffing" as in it pokes it with its jelly bean antenne tips
>Then it swallows three of the brass casings
>oh
>ok
>Tuuri and I watch as Nukka begins to rattle
>it coughs up the casings now pristine and new
>the bee turns to cough out a cloud of what I assume is gunpowder
>they eat carbon too?
>hmmm
>open up my AR-18M and feed Nukka the bolt
>Nukka rattles and spits it out
>Clean. As. Fuck.
>we wander through the Flakturm fortress
>there are iconography of flying Moth all along the walls
>where's the first place a Kommando raids in a fortress?
>the armory
>too bad the doors are shut fucking tight
>reinforced steel
>considering this is from an era where Moth struggled to even get metal, it means there's good shit inside
>Tuuri stares at it thinking as I beat and bash against it

>then she looks down at Nukka
>Tuuri lifts up Nukka and examines its MG-42 stinger
>Then she shakes Nukka like a soda bottle
>the stinger heats up
>Tuuri jams it into the steel, cutting out a hole
>The armory is filled with racks for large M72 like tubes
>There are suits of Moth armor along the walls
>I come to a bookshelf
>I can't read Moth language but Tuuri translates
>"Moth Aeronautic Doctrine... History of the 18th Armored Aer--"
>"Aeronautic doctrine? Like a Moth air force?"
>we're bringing this back
>The History of the 18th Armored Aero shows the armor the Moth use in the air
>the key to their construction isn't to prevent penetration, but to reflect projectiles, they still take half of the energy of the projectile as concussive force
>the Moth can fly high enough to avoid most flak cannons and any arrows
>along with the Moth fly Talkoot who defend the Moth like fighters defending bombers
>We come to the top of the fortress
>where I expect AA guns are actually just large furnaces
>upon closer examination they have a diving board right above the exhaust port
>I'm reminded of the chimneys back in town, that Moth would use to boost themselves in the air
>I convince Tuuri to put on the Aero armor and I light the furnace
>Tuuri nervously shuffles out
>the armor fits her like a glove
>it's synonymous to generic medieval armor
>the helmet is similar to a Germanic helmet, with lines like a Stahlhelm
>in the helmet are little frankenstein bolts with space for the antenne
>the shinier the armor, the better the reflective nature of it
>The Moth would bring what is  steel rain from a height you can't fire on them from, even with flak cannons
>they would make the chest pieces as reflective as possible, to intimidate the enemy, so that it would look like a cloud of glare flying towards them

>The pages of the book depict Moth flying through the air with those same long tubes we saw on the racks
>one shows firing method
>the Moth dive bomb shortly before the target, then on the upward path they stop using their wings, and at the moment of equilibrium they fire it.
>the tubes are filled with flechettes that are about a foot long
>how deadly these flechettes would be?
>the maximum ceiling of an 88mm German flak cannon is some 9900m, let's say a height of 10000m
>they have a mass of about .3 kg being dropped from let's assume rest
>I hope you remember physics class
>assuming no drag because of the shape of the flechette, and because the velocity at which an object falls is independent of its mass
>we have D = vit + 1/2at^2, with gravity, we have a falling time of about 45 seconds
>not very good
>but it is going about 443 meters per second right before impact
>but the energy the flechettes hold is insane
>we have E = mgh, and so we get 29,430 joules upon impact
>To compare with ammunition, the flechette weighs 0.66 pounds, and so is 4620 grains, and with a striking velocity of 443 meters per second or 1453.41 feet per second
>it will hit with 21665.64 foot pounds of energy
>for reference .50 BMG has a muzzle energy of 10,000-15,000 foot pounds
>combine that with how they are about a centimeter wide, ideally you have all of that energy going into a tiny fucking space
>and this is assuming from rest and they get shot out of the tubes
>those flechettes will fuck you up
>mfw
>Tuuri carries with her 3 of the flechette tubes
>they fit into slots on the back of the armor
>In her hands she carries one more
>She jumps onto the furnace and the directed hot air sends her into the night sky
>all I can see is a tiny glowing dot
>I don't see any signs of firing but nearby many flechettes pierce the earth
>they shatter and burst outwards like shrapnel
>you know for a fact
>we have to bring back the Moth Air Force

>the suits of armor and a flechette tubes are laid on the table 
>the Moth engineers immediately crowd them
>first a couple easy things to get out of the way
>the armor can be lightened considerably, the reflection enchantment comes from both the quality of the steel and the luster of the polish
>polishing is easy and much like how ballistic armor often has something to catch spalling, we can place a soft layer behind to reduce the 50% concussive force to about 25-30%
>we don't need the full suit and but will keep the chest piece as a tribute to the older Moth "Armored Aero"
>A much bigger issue is the flechette tube
>flechettes upon closer examination are actually densely woven fibers of Blightwood covered in a steel layer
>each one according to the book is done by hand
>as well as the tube, which is a one time use
>that doesn't fly well with the Moth
>the time for the projectiles to hit the ground is far too long for the pace of modern combat
>plus the concussion from the blast almost makes you unconscious
>some engineers propose having it expel casings backwards to please Issac Newton and keep physics from bitch slapping us
>others propose a flechette rifle
>as they bicker I let my eyes wander and I see a Moth wheeling in the firework launchers from the festival
>I manage to swipe one
>there a couple spare shells sitting next to the launcher
>it's a lot like a mini howitzer mixed with a mortar tube
>the shells are shaped as you would expect
>but the just above the rim it has a band of glowing red about half an inch wide
>when the cable is pulled a spring loaded claw shoots up and bites into the band of the shell, causing the propellant to go off
>rimfire artillery
>that's a fun idea
>I examine a shell as Tuuri sits by my side, just as vexed by it
>perhaps grenade launchers could work? 
>M79s had flechette shells afterall 

>or… wait
>I look at the tube the Moth engineers are fondling
>Tuuri taps me on the shoulder
>"M 7 2?"
>it is shaped a lot like an M72
>big_think.dankula
>recoilless rifles
>that's it
>I pull the howitzer over to the engineers
>Tuuri explains her idea
>they simply tear the tube off the howitzer
>problem #1 is that we when we place the dummy shell in, it just slides right out the front of the barrel
>problem #2 is that the shells are excessively heavy
>problem #3 is that they are for fireworks
>alongside many other ones
>The actual recoilless rifle and the rockets will need to be designed in tandem
>It's agreed the howitzer tube will be used as a "prototype" before actual tubes are built from petri-steel
>The advantage of this is that it will essentially be a glorified tube 
>with a fast projectile we overcome the issue of long flechette drop times 
>space is cut into the howitzer tube for a trigger
>we weigh the tube down and tie some rope to test the trigger
>I load the shell in and fucking high tail it behind some sandbags
>we pull the rope and the entire fucking tube explodes in a big firework
>...
>the howitzer fires them out of a sort of chamber
>we forgot
>we hurriedly toss all the bits in the trash like little kids
>hoping no one comes from town asking what the noise was
>the engineers come back with their rocket design
>the head of the rocket is pretty big compared to the stubby tail
>it looks more like a conventional bomb, like Little Boy
>just before the body of the rocket curves to become the tail, there is a glowing red rim painted on
>wires go back down to the tail, obviously for the propellant
>on the front is a detonator cap
>from what the engineers tell us, the detonator cap is actually reject primer from the bullets 
>the primers aren't sensitive enough
>but the force of the impact should be more than enough to set it off
>loading it from the front is burdensome, as the tube is fairly long
>and loading it from the back is as well

>the body of the tube really reminds me of a Grease Gun
>we cut a jagged hold in the side of the tube to allow loading
>then a simple "dust" cover is added
>it's a hinged one just like the Grease Gun
>there was some debate over if it should actually be a sliding locking kind
>but it was decided that design while superior for keeping the tube closed, would be too complicated and heavy
>A hole is cut in the bottom for the trigger
>The group is encased in wood and the case serves as a grip
>When the trigger is pulled, the claw holding back the tail of the rocket drops, and a spring loaded hammer comes up to bite the rim
>beneath the rim is a band of treated reflective metal
>which sends the hammer back to be reset
>the rocket then flies out of the tube
>looking at the complete prototype
>the damn thing looks like a Grease Gun had a baby with a Bazooka
>THE SIGHTS ARE EVEN THE SAME
>SO IS THE FUCKING GRIP
>We give Tuuri the rocket launcher and the new armor
>the new "Aero Corp" uniform consists of a thinner, lighter reflective armor chest piece with a dark gray tunic and black boots
>the helmet has been redesigned for protective eyewear
>It resembles a Vietnam Era flight helmet, but with a rustic knightley appearance
>Tuuri makes her wings a bright white and the armor practically blinds me
>as does the tunic, which has a tiny bit of petri-steel fibers woven in with the same reflective spell, catching the light
>the actual launcher will be much lighter and the rockets will be refined
>we head out to the woods and set up a target out of an old Elvish tank
>We hear a drum like boom, it reminds me of thunder, and then the Little Boy like rocket hurtling towards the earth
>it sounds like a trumpet as it falls, similar to how a Stuka had sirens on it
>it hits the tank and the explosion is odd
>The center of it reminds me of napalm, but instead of smoke, it has WP like streaks of fireworks

>Fabricating the true launchers are much easier
>they are really just glorified pipes
>they even work on the ground
>they weigh almost nothing
>according to Tuuri one little quirk of the launcher design is that after the rocket leaves the tube, the loading cover flips open 
>The rockets are lightened and keeping in tradition, a flechette variant is made
>for the flechette rocket, the wires run to the front as well, where a delayed fuse essentially causes the body to come apart and many half foot long flechettes are shot out
>each rocket weighs about two pounds
>the Talkoot bees are given little vests to hold some five rockets
>we have to convince Nukka to just sit still as we fit the vest to it
>Tuuri feeds it an endless stream of little rusted chips
>About a week later after more Moth are trained on the new bazookas and domesticate their own Talkoot bees, they begin a test run of the new equipment
>high up above we can see an angry white glare coming towards the target area
>then right before they begin their attack, we hear a bugle sound
>it was an engineer's idea that if the rockets sound like trumpets as they fall, why not let the enemy know with a Civil War like cavalry bugle?
>after all, the rocket Moth fill this role
>We hear thunder and drums as independent white stars dive bomb the target
>easily takes less than 10 seconds for the rockets to hit the dummy tank
>after they fire the rocket, explosive or flechette depending on the target, the Moth peel up and rejoin the cloud while they reload
>the Moth can fly surprisingly fast, and on lower targets they simply shoot over in a blur and suddenly there's an explosion or a cloud of flechettes
>whenever they attack there's the bugle playing right before
>some of the Moths work out that they can regain their flight stability from the backblast by doing an aileron roll
>it's like watching shooting stars

Do You Like Fish?

>I lean down by the river
>I can see Tuuri's wings reflecting in the water
>Across the bubbling creek is the little spot I found Tuuri reading when I first came here
>but before it was a large river
>It wasn't a small creek
>You can even see clear striations on the side of the gouge cut in the ground by the river
>striations only revealed now that the water level has dropped
>NOTGOOD.HEAVY
>Tuuri and I walk along the river bed
>I can see the river water reflecting off her new armor
>Tuuri, much like most Moth now, cannot resist the urge to bomb the living shit out of anything that moves
>Nukka flutters behind us
>Its wings sounding like a Huey
>Its green antenne go to yellow
>It zooms out in front of us
>then it turns orange
>It points with its antenne into the nearby trees
>Tuuri does the Moth equivalent of giggling, which is her wings flashing like strobes
>She takes off into the sky
>I can see the shining cloud glide across the black sky
>Then the bazooka fires
>I can make out the small trail of the rocket
>The explosion uproots trees and knocks me onto my back
>Tuuri lands and picks me up by the scruff of my neck
>leading me in pure excitement to see the end result
>it's a red mush pile and gore all around the crater
>of…
>I don't even know what it was
>it's like a meteor crashed here
>Tuuri happily flaps behind me
>the air of her wings cool my awe
>Her neck fluff hits the back of my head
>sending tingles down my back




>The river offers a nice change of ambience compared to the fields and woods of the Moth homeland
>I can see some fish swimming
>nothing special
>but as we get further up river, Tuuri's excitement grows
>"LOOK! FISH!"
>"Yeah fish."
>Nukka simply hovers, uninterested
>She points to a small calm pool 
>might have been a simple low ground that the water eroded to connect to the river over the years

>I keep walking, uninterested
>But then Tuuri grabs me by my shoulders and pulls me back with the force of her wings
>"OK OK! FISH!"
>Tuuri points to the salmon looking fish, paddling into the pool
>They have one little antenne
>It rises above the water like a periscope
>More periscopes come up
>they actually curve to point around
>Tuuri pulls me into a bush to hide
>oh god do they shoot?
>Like Nukka does?
>But then like an angler fish's light
>so too do the salmon's "periscope"
>It glows pink
>from a distance I would have thought they were pink Hehku flowers
>Then when it reaches a level of a strong christmas light
>compared to the soft, natural luminescence of the Moth, Bees, and flowers
>the periscope light is far more harsh, like a light bulb
>Then the salmon surfaces
>Its fishy face pleased to be basking in the moonlight
>Its gills open and steam puffs out like a tea kettle
>once the steam dissipates, I can see it has many little fins underneath that it is propping itself up on
>like they're walking on water
>Tuuri taps me on the shoulder
>"Watch fish!"
>The scales of the fish come off from the fish's side
>The sides swinging up like hatches on a submarine
>with a membrane beneath like a puffer fish's to support them
>almost like wings
>The scales begin to glow pink as well
>Catching as much moonlight as possible
>The other fish do the same
>Suddenly small crackles of electricity jump across the salmon's body
>as more salmon follow its example the electricity jumps from salmon to salmon
>before hopping to a lily pad
>the lily pad lights as well, like an orange hazard light
>the flowers slightly resemble that of a Hehku bud
>more of a sunflower though
>Out the top come a cloud of seeds that fly like a dandelion's
>the lily pad spits out a cloud whenever a tiny bolt of electricity hits it
>the sunflower petals lighting up stronger like its charging up
>The seeds seemingly fight the wind
>instead of settling on land, they plunge into the river water as well

>In a way, it's like the relationship the Moth have with Hehku flowers
>"Why do the salmon surface?"
>"Fish need charge. Fish need moon."
>"What about the lily pads?"
>"Fish have too much charge. Fish like charging, but no hold excess."
>it makes me wonder
>if the fish gave off the little bolts of electricity, discharging it as they "charged" off the moonlight
>did it kill off the other plants in the water?
>hence why only these lily pads survived and became dependent on the salmon to give them the energy to release seeds?
>it would explain why the water in the river is so clear
>Many times I can see straight down to the bottom
>"Tuuri? What do the fish eat? If the water is so clear, that means there isn't much in the way for the salmon to eat"
>"Coral!"
>Tuuri pulls me along the river
>making sure I don't get too close to the salmon, lest a static discharge fry my brain
>Nukka flutters, watching the seeds fly around
>Before settling on Tuuri's shoulder
>Upriver I can see a pink brilliance under a waterfall
>the river drops off, the reflection of the water breaks up the moonlight
>giving the impression it ripples around
>but beneath lie a coral reef
>they possess the same brilliant glow as the fish
>It gives an entire rainbow of colors
>god I hope the gays don't start co-opting it
>claiming the corals are transexual
>in all my time along the river
>I never once saw a coral reef
>but then again I only was in the flat parts of the river
>I can see the land begins to curve upwards
>There are other colonies ahead as well
>"Why do the coral only show up below waterfalls?"
>"Coral weak, coral make too much charge from moon. If too much charge, coral explode. Release power, kill fish."
>"I'd assume the fish are resistant to electricity though?"
>"Resistant, not immune"
>mfw the coral is essentially an electric bomb if it is overcharged
>"Moth kill all other coral in river a long time ago. Moth want to eat fish. Moth cannot catch fish if fish die."

>So much like early farmers, they selected the best and most advantageous traits
>thus killing out the others
>If the coral can only survive under waterfalls, it must be because the water refracts the moonlight
>keeping the actual exposure lower
>And with many generations
>they are now too sensitive to grow out of the waterfall's protection
>Tuuri points to a school of salmon swimming up river
>at this moment they appear to be like normal salmon
>the many fins folded to hide under their stomachs
>The salmon swim and jump up the waterfall
>on the way back down, they let the waterfall pull them
>with their jump and return journey they attempt to bite off the coral
>feeding off longer pieces
>"River get low, less coral, less fish"
>"Wait, if the fish charge off the moon. Then why do they need to eat?"
>"Coral sensitive, doesn't hold a lot of power. Fish still need food for body. Fish need power for nerves."
>that's inefficient but ok
>"How long has the water level been falling for?"
>"A long time."
>A lower water level means less water to refract the moonlight, thus less coral, thus less fish
>less water to form calm pools, thus less fish, thus less lily pads
>"Moth used to eat many fish. But no water, no fish. Not worth it."
>Another flakturm like fortress pokes into the sky
>We're coming near the source of the water
>Tuuri tells me it's in a huge cave, all water that diffuses down from the glaciers on the mountains
>There are far more coral reefs, fish, and lily pads up here
>as well as what are obvious remains of the fish' former "charging" pools
>some very obviously built by Moth
>there are ruined houses and boats scattered all around
>A fishing town is what it looks like
>nearly as big as the one we came from

>Near the river a jiggling mass drinks water
>Tuuri freezes
>Her wings flashing gray
>"Slime."
>Behind the one slime, there are many more
>Tuuri and I regroup to a small ruined fire station
>The key to killing a slime, really any slime for that matter, is to shoot it through their "core"
>best way to describe them is as oversized single eukaryotic cells
>their "core" is the nucleus, the heart, and the heart all at the same time
>the issue is the organelles of a slime are transparent
>they are rarely at the center, because slimes are clever and move their core around
>explosives are a great way to take care of them
>but we don't have enough rockets
>plus they won't work in doors
>Slimes love ambushing people from corners and ceilings
>time to get creative
>emptying magazines in slimes wouldn't work
>I could end up missing the core entirely
>if we don't know where the core is exactly
>we know where it is area wise
>the slimes can't shoot their core out of their body
>what if we just burned them?
>inflicting cell death
>I have a small lighter… 
>I look over at Tuuri who nervously looks at the slimes
>"Do you not like slimes?"
>"Slime gross. Slime all… slimey. Hate them."
>"Did you have a bad experience?"
>"No. Just weird slime."
>I nod as I look through the ruins of the fire station
>I'm sure as fuck not walking back just to get more gun
>I find some canisters
>they look like fire extinguishers
>except the tank is massive, more like an elongated propane tank really
>there are many of them lying around
>all empty
>The hoses connect and disconnect with ease
>there's a shoulder fixture
>I put it on and aim the hose
>it's like a shoulder fired extinguisher

>hmmm
>I read the side of the tank and see runes akin to bags of holding
>what if we made the fire extinguisher into a flamethrower
>Lay the tank out on the wood paneling of the dock
>"Tuuri do we have anything flammable?"
>She points to some lily pads in the river
>"They are electric though, they aren't flammable."
>She shakes her head side to side
>"No, Moth ferment pad to heat home"
>"What?"
>Tuuri grabs a bucket and picks some lily pads
>She mashes them with water and some salt
>She casts an aging spell
>the plants begin to decay into a black slurry
>She takes out a handful and packs it
>it looks just like the coal I thought the Moth were using
>Then she borrows my lighter and sets the whole bucket ablaze
>We fill the tank with lily pad fuel
>I attach the lighter to the front
>the shoulder firing part of the thrower already pressurizes the fuel
>Tuuri stands ready to shove me into the water if anything goes wrong
>I sneak up on a lone slime
>gleefully drinking the river water
>I let a burst loose
>the slime writhes in pain as it tries to crawl away
>then it pops
>leaving a charred ball behind, the slime's core
>the flames are a huge pink napalm like cloud
>Tuuri and I run place to place simply burning away the slimes
>When we reach the fortress, I throw caution to the wind and simply burn the corners and ceilings of rooms I can't see
>usually catching a slime
>the worrying thing is that as we get further in, the slimes get bigger
>at the top of the Flakturm I except the furnaces to launch Moth
>instead there are spot lights
>Tuuri rushes past me and lights them
>She grabs my hand as she leads me into the biggest tower
>here I was thinking it was some kind of "air control" thing
>it's actually a gigantic pyre with mirrors to act as a lighthouse
>"Slime hate light!"

>Sure enough when I look over the edge of the fortress with the light to my back
>the slimes quickly retreat
>The cave of the river's source is filled with gigantic slimes that feast on the river water
>maybe they're attracted by the minerals the glacier water gets as it drips through the mountain
>Inside I see the remains of pens to keep slimes in
>"Moth used to farm slime. Slime heart good source of calcium."
>"But then you guys don't like wild ones?"
>"Yes. Wild slime gross and heart have no calcium."
>Like how farmers will tend to pigs but hate feral hogs
>it makes me wonder if when the Moth left, the slimes escaped their pens and began to multiply out of control with the abundant source of water with bits of calcium
>Them drinking all the water makes sense too, that's why the water levels were dropping
>As we burn more and more slimes, I swear the river gets a little higher with each one
>each slime essentially siphoned the water 24/7
>I prepare to unleash another storm of pink fire on some very large slimes
>but then it just clicks
>empty
>Tuuri looks terrified as she pushes me to the side
>Before bum rushing the slimes with her wings a terrifying orange light
>She rips into the slimes, pushing her hand through grasping for something
>Then she finds the core and rips it out somehow
>Inside the slime the core is transparent, but you can still "feel" it
>I just kind of sit there
>unsure what to do
>can't exactly shoot while Tuuri is going berserk
>Nukka stares at me expecting me to do something
>"Don't look at me like that"
>buzz buzz
>"She can take care of it"
>buzz buzz
>"She is doing a great job"
>buzz
>Tuuri comes back with a thousand yard stare and covered in goop
>"You ok?"
>"Want to go home now"
>outside the cave she washes herself off and falls onto my shoulders
>as I carry her back to town on my back
>I swear she's doing this on purpose
>because her wings are just as happy and pink as the light of the fish, coral, and lily pads