MSPNPC Ferzdy — Tie the knots to measure

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May 13, 2021, 3:46:26 PMMay 13
to USS Resolution – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG

(( Briar Patch Planet ))

Ferzy walked slowly, his footfalls more certain about where he was going than the rest of him.  Every twenty paces, he tied another knot.  Not that he was planing on finding his way back to the cave where the crash survivors had found refuge.  No, there was little left for him there.  He waited until he was certain he wouldn’t be missed–it hadn’t taken long–and set out on his own.

As he continued his lonesome march into the unknown, he reminded himself of an aged stray animal that had left the safety of the pack and gone into the wilderness to die.  Ferzdy, however, wasn’t laying down quietly, not yet.  He knew he had seen something inexplicable after the shuttle crash.  It couldn’t have been his eyes playing tricks on him; the lights he saw were so colourful, so sharp, they had to be something real.

Ferzdy stopped and sniffed at the air.  Something nearby was burning, but it didn’t smell like charred wreckage and bodies.  No, it was more like a campfire.  He quickly counted the knots he’d tied since he left the cave.  Seventy-eight of them.  He must have traveled a little over a kilometre.*  The old man stood still for a moment longer to discern the direction of the wind.  Campfires meant people, and unless he had walked in a giant circle, it meant someone else was on this planet.

Altering his heading slightly to the left, Ferzdy continued in the direction of the campfire smoke, the scent growing stronger as he did.  The terrain leveled out under his feet and his eyes registered that he was standing in a shadow.  A likely spot for a shelter.

Ferzdy:  Hello?

He walked further, still tying a knot every twenty paces and stopping to listen for signs of life.

Ferzdy:  Is anyone out there?  My ship crashed on this planet.  There are injured people.

Ferzdy heard faint footsteps growing louder as they neared him.  He stopped again and waved his arms, hoping that he would be noticed.  They were speaking to each other, and he heard the unmistakable broad vowels and syncopated syllables of Federation Standard.  He expressed silent gratitude for his years of training and service in the intelligence arm of the Romulan government.  It had been decades since he’d last spoken Federation Standard, but he was confident he knew enough to get by.

Ferzdy:  ::in Federation Standard::  Hello?

Yozal / Francis / Any:  response

Ferzdy:  My name is Ferzdy.  I was on a ship that crashed here several days ago.  We took shelter in a cave just over a kilometre* from here.

Yozal / Francis / Any:  response

Ferzdy:  I’m thirsty.  And ::holds up his knots:: my fingers hurt.

Yozal / Francis / Any:  response

(( OOC: *Just using familiar units here for… erm, familiarity.)


Romulan Old Timer

simmed by

Lieutenant Yogan Yalu
Helm Officer
USS Resolution NCC-78145


As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others, those who have lost the right to speak.
— Mahmoud Darwish

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