LF Friends, Will Travel

Why we said yes - Dunwilian

"̶S̸o̷ ̵i̸n̵ ̴c̷o̸n̵c̴l̴u̷s̵i̷o̸n̸,̸ ̸t̷h̴e̵ ̴T̴e̸r̶r̶a̶n̴s̸ ̵a̸r̵e̴ ̶g̵r̸e̶a̵t̷!̷ ̶W̵e̴'̸v̴e̵ ̸m̶a̷d̵e̴ ̴s̴o̴ ̶m̸a̷n̸y̵ ̴f̸r̸i̷e̶n̵d̵s̴ ̸s̵i̵n̴c̵e̷ ̵w̷e̸ ̸m̴e̴t̵ ̸t̶h̶e̸m̷!̷ ̵I̶f̷ ̸y̷o̴u̴'̵r̸e̵ ̴l̴o̷o̶k̷i̶n̷g̷ ̵f̴o̷r̷ ̶f̸r̴i̶e̴n̴d̷s̷ ̵y̵o̷u̶ ̶s̵h̸o̴u̷l̶d̴ ̷t̴o̷t̵a̷l̸l̶y̴ ̷j̶o̷i̶n̷ ̶a̵s̶ ̶w̷e̸l̷l̵!̵"̶

Zantari stood across from the Dunwilian, an anxious feeling of being trapped in the conversation building with each second. The Ghirlinn's form was relatively benign: their default state of a bipedal Reptilian in a deep red robe. This was in stark contrast to their conversational partner.

The Dunwilian's were not a conventional race. Many would call them strange, weird, unnatural. Meaner people would call them ugly. The humans even had a specific word: Lovecraftian. Ten feet tall, an undulating mass of bruised blueish-purple tendrils wrapped together like a slimy ball of hastily wrapped twine. A series of trunks, each with a gnashing maw of teeth at the bottom acted as their limbs for locomotion and finer environment interaction. Masses of deep red eyes were scattered across the entire thing; no matter where you stared, the creature looked back at you.

"Yes, yes. That's very nice. I've got some place to be, so I'll think about it later?"

Most species did not have diplomatic relations with the Dunwilians due to their off-putting appearance, their method of talking and entire state of... everything filled your average three-dimensional being with terror, horror and dread. The Ghirlinn steered clear of them for an entirely different and less nasty reason: It was generally a good idea to avoid interacting or messing with species who had an external patron.

The Ghirlinn didn't know much about the true capabilities of the dark gods which had birthed the Dunwilians, since working that kind of thing out was difficult when extradimensional beings tended to avoid such things like logic, the laws of physics, or reality itself. However, they did guess that for all of the Ghirlinn's power in their extensive universe-spanning civilization, that these beings could rend all of that to dust should they so choose. Or were allowed to, since the rules around when a being such as that could interact with the 'normal' universe were vague and unknowable to anyone with a three-dimensional mind or even three-dimensional computers.

It was far less risky to just avoid interactions with such species, lest you anger something far greater than you.

"̷O̴h̶,̵ ̸b̸u̵t̶ ̷I̶ ̶h̴a̸v̶e̷n̵'̸t̶ ̷g̴o̵t̴ ̷t̸o̷ ̶t̴h̵e̶ ̴b̷e̴s̵t̷ ̴p̸a̵r̸t̴ ̸y̶e̵t̸!̵ ̴H̷a̴t̵s̵!̸ ̷D̵o̸ ̷y̵o̷u̵ ̶l̷i̷k̷e̸ ̸m̴i̵n̴e̶?̷ ̸I̴ ̷t̸h̵i̷n̶k̷ ̶i̴t̵ ̶l̶o̴o̸k̴s̸ ̸n̸e̴a̷t̶!̷"̸

Zantari had scheduled a great many interviews with the members of the Terran Alliance. This was not one of them, this meeting was entirely by chance. They had been visiting this Federation station while on their way back home to report on their findings on the Terrans, and had just so happened to run into a Dunwilian diplomat while wandering the halls. Zantari had then made a great mistake: They gave a small, polite greeting.

This had given the Dunwilian ample excuse to launch into an unprompted and enthusiastic conversation about the Terrans and all of the new friends the Lovecraftian species had made after joining the Terran Alliance. For the last fifteen minutes, Zantari had been stuck here in this conversation, trying and failing to exit the social trap.

"Your hat is very nice. I really must be going now..."

That was the one new thing about the Dunwilian's appearance: the giant purple wool hat that sat upon the Lovecraftian 'head', topped off with a large white daffodil stuck to the side. Zantari had to admit it did soften the otherwise interesting appearance of the Dunwilian.