moth? more like... goth hahaha gottem

>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.