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Navigating the Astral Sea: A NeoGAF Play-by-Post Pathfinder Game
- Thread starter ThLunarian
- Start date
ThLunarian
Member
((5k might be able to get you a pretty good one-time buff for the final battle(s) - probably a scroll for a spell that no one can currently cast. Something like Heroes' Feast, or Haste, or Righteous Wrath of the Faithful. I forget exactly how scroll pricing works, but a scroll of Heroes' Feast should either cost you 1950 gold or 3900 gold I think, depending on the specific rules and whether anyone has feats that might help that out some))
Axelhortsemchi
Member
((That just made me think, I don't have feats to help write scrolls, but Shulmor does have craft wondrous item and craft magic weapons so he could knock off a lot of money for Fleshbane's headband and belt if you allowed it. Given that it's supposed to take time though, that's a really big if.
It's ok Mike, you probably know more about 5e than I do right now, so I'll get to figure that one out as we go!))
ThLunarian
Member
((I'll allow a 50% discount on one item because of Shulmor's feat))
KittenMaster
Member
<I'll donate my share of the gold minus how much a Greater Magic Weapon +5 potion costs because I'm too lazy to really do any shopping.>
((LOL, I was looking at the crafting price for the belt, not the purchase price. So with the discount, I'm back to 9K. I have a +2 deflection bonus, if we can cobble enough spare change to up that, then I can get a ring of protection. Other than that, I think I'm good.
Finally leveled up. I've got some interesting shenanigan possibilities, and I've got some buffs for anyone who's adjacent to me or flanking. Seriously, this move seems completely broken:
So every other round, I can give someone an extra turn. Granted, the range is only 10ft, but it still seems nuts to break the action economy in half.))
Finally leveled up. I've got some interesting shenanigan possibilities, and I've got some buffs for anyone who's adjacent to me or flanking. Seriously, this move seems completely broken:
So every other round, I can give someone an extra turn. Granted, the range is only 10ft, but it still seems nuts to break the action economy in half.))
((OK, seriously, the longer I write on this damn piece the further away the ending seems to get. I'm gonna post part 1 for now mostly to show that I actually am working on this. I'll continue working on the rest over the weekend. THLunarian, if you want to continue on with the main story feel free to do so and I'll work the rest of the story into a flashback. ))
When the elf has stopped speaking, Viss sits in silence for a few seconds, processing his words. In the back of her head she can still feel the throbbing beat of the enraged flora and fauna around her.
It is just..., she starts after some more moments have passed. I mean... all my life I have spent being angry for different reasons. You yourself have given me more than one lesson on that matter, she pauses, thinking. And you were right. I know that now. In my fury I never really understood that the only one I was hurting was myself. She glances at the elf who only smiles, waiting for her to continue. But when we mediated just now and I felt the anger and rage of nature... it felt so right. I wanted it to carry me away. I wanted to scream and rampage with it. But isn't that wrong? Won't that only end in tragedy once more? Shouldn't there be a peaceful way?
When Viss has finished speaking, Curai looks at her intently for a few moments before he suddenly bursts out in laughter. Unaware that the elf was even capable of an outburst like this Viss is taking aback, wondering if he is making fun of her.
Her confusion must have shown because Curai quickly stops. I'm sorry, child, don't think I'm laughing to insult you. he says, still grinning. It is just that I would have never thought to hear words like this out of your mouth, they seemed... strangely out of place. His expressions softens again and a tint of sadness creeps into his eyes. How I wished that we had gotten more time together. There are so many things I didn't get the chance to teach you. He sighs and the sadness is gone again. But luckily you turned out quite fine anyway. But to answer your question. No. Anger and rage, while often harmful and destructive are not in itself bad. They are part of of every living being just as much as joy and happiness. Anger can be a mighty fuel...
But you said that something fueled by anger is...
I know what I said, child and I stand by it. Anger is a mighty fuel and a dangerous one. The important thing is to learn when it is right to use it and when it is not.
I'm not sure I understand that.
And sadly we don't have time for me to explain it to you in the detail that would be necessary, but maybe think about it like this. When you stumble over a stone, what would be the sense in being angry at the stone?
None, I guess? Viss answered, suddenly feeling like a young girl again.
Of course not. But say someone picks up the stone and throws it at someone, would you be angry at the stone now?
Viss laughed. Of course not!
But what about the person who threw the stone?
Viss thought about this a little bit. I guess it depends on why he threw the stone.
Curai smiled. Exactly! There is the chance that they threw the stone in an act of defense, or maybe even didn't even intend to hit someone. Would the person be deserving of your anger in that case?
I see where you are going with that. No I wouldn't be angry. She thinks a moment. Or well, at least I shouldn't be.
Right, but what if the person, threw the stone for no other reason, than to hurt someone else?
I think that would be the time, where I am supposed to get angry then.
Yes, in this case the person is deserving of your anger. Even more so, not getting angry at such a thing would be the greater sin. For one should never be impassive in the face of injustice. Whose feelings aren't moved by acts of evil and who doesn't feel compelled to fight against such acts with all their might, well, those people might as well be evil themselves.
I see. Viss stood up. Well, I guess I better go and show that Zerome thing what it means to piss of nature then, huh?
Curai winced. I wish your phrasing would be a bit more elegant but yes, it is time for you to leave, child. The elf stood up and the dome of branches slowly opened up around them, the vines and liana retreating in the undergrowth of the jungle.
When they were standing on the forest clearing Curai gently took Viss' hands in his.
We'll have to separate for now. As for your task, I'll take it on myself to talk to Oldoraphon and mobilize the powers of plants and trees. Your task should be to seek out the Hothepa in the realm of animals and ask for their help. Curai makes a small waving gesture with his hand and from somewhere out of the tree a blackbird comes flying down. Viss immediately recognizes it as the one that has been mocking her on her way through the forest. This is Shazuh. I think that he'll be a useful companion on the journey you have to make.
Shazuh eyes Viss, the small black eyes still filled with obvious contempt. He turns his had to Curai. I'm only doing this because I still owe you for that time you freed me from that trap, you know.
Yes I am aware of that. And you can consider the debt paid once my daughter has fulfilled her tasks.
Daughter? Really? Anybody ever told you that you two look nothing alike?
It has been brought to my attention, yes Shazuh. There was a hint of exasperation in Curai's voice.
Just asking. None of my fucking business, eh? The bird eyes Viss once more.
Hothepa won't like it though. And if they don't like it, well, there isn't a damn thing I can do about this, you know that.
Curai nodded. I am aware of that, but I have confidence that my daughter will be able to handle the situation just fine, that doesn't have to be your concern.
OK then. The bird quickly flapped over to Viss' shoulder. Just so you can't say I didn't warn you. Turning his eyes on Viss again he continues. Well then, Missy, I hear we are on a tight schedule, so I guess you better hold on to your tail, he glances down Viss' backside. Or what's left of it anyway.
Viss who had been standing there slightly dumbfounded, trying her best to make sense of the conversation, had just opening her mouth to ask a question when all of the sudden existence stopped being. Before shock or fear had time to settle in it returned just as fast as it had vanished.
Viss looks around in confusion. The forest and Curai are gone. Instead she is standing on what appears to be a slope of a gigantic mountain. When she turns around she can see a vast green plain below here. She spots a large dark area and wonders if it might be a lake when she notices that it is moving. She is about to ask Shazuh about it when the realization of what she is seeing hits her. It wasn't a lake. It was a herd of some kind grazing animals. But for a herd to appear that big from this far away... she shakes her head in disbelieve. There must be ten thousands if not hundreds of thousand animals down there.
What is this place? Unable to hide the awe in her voice, Viss turns her head to look at Shazuh.
The blackbird fluffs up his feathers and there is unmistakable pride in his voice. This is the realm of animals. This is the only place in all of existence where we can live as we like, without interference from any of you so called sentient races. There seems to be a hint of a sneer in the bird's last words.
Viss had turned her head back to look over the planes. It is beautiful, she says absentmindedly as she watches a massive flock of birds circle overhead.
Yes, it is. And you can consider yourself really lucky. Not many even know of the existence of this place and even fewer of your kind have ever set foot in here. As it is, chances are I myself will get in real trouble for bringing you here at all. But come, we better hurry. The faster we bring you to see Hothepa the sooner this whole affair will be over. One way or another.
Something in the words of the bird makes Viss very nervous. So, this Hothepa you are talking about. Are they something like your god?
God? this time Shazuh didn't even try to hide the sneer from his voice. Animals don't have gods. Only mankind and the like are so helpless in figuring out how to live that they created rulers for themselves.
Viss nodded, in a way that did make sense. So they are your king then?
Shazuh sighed. Again with your mankind terms. What is it with you that everything you encounter has to fit into some kind of formula otherwise you won't comprehend it? Well, but I guess for the sake of making things easier, yes, I guess you could call Hothepa our ruler. Though you might also call him our protector, our guide, they are a lot more than could be described just a single word. Do you understand?
Of course, Viss answered quickly. To be honest from what Shazuh had said that Hothepa still sounded very much like a ruler to her but she decided not to argue with the blackbird. How about you bring me to this Hothepa then?
Instead of an answer Shazuh leaves Viss' shoulder and flies up the slope, Viss following him as fast as she can.
They haven't gone far when they arrive at the entrance to a cave and Shazuh lands on Viss' shoulder again.
In there? she asks. Somehow the thought of walking into a dark cave didn't seem very appealing to her.
Unless you decided that you don't want to bother Hothepa with you problems after all, yes, 'in there' it is.
OK... Wait just a second. She takes the figurine of Tessa from her pocket and transforms the T-Rex back to her usual form. Something about the hovering presence of her reptile companion makes her feel a lot calmer. Now I'm ready! she says with a grin as she sees Shazuh's startled expression when the dinosaur appears.
As always Tessa takes a few moments to orientate herself. When she understands that they are yet again in an unfamiliar place she tilts her head at Viss questioningly. This is the animal realm, Viss explains briefly. And apparently we are here to see your king.
Tessa's loud snort makes it clear that even the concepts of kings isn't something she considers worth having. Viss laughs, patting her friend on the hind leg. How about you tell him that in person then, huh? Come on, let's go.
Together the three of them enter the cave. To Viss' surprise the inside isn't nearly as dark as she would have suspected as there is some kind of luminescent lichen growing all over the stone walls, giving the surroundings a greenish tint. The tunnel they were walking through was big enough so that even Tessa had no need of lowering her head.
They had followed the tunnel for only a few minutes when it suddenly widened into a cavern large enough that one or two sizable mansions could have fitted in there. Viss looks around, but other than the size the cavern didn't seem to be any different than the tunnel had been. She searches for a continuation of the tunnel on the far end of the room but even though the lichen seem to shine even brighter here she isn't able to spot anything.
She is about to ask Shazuh if he has made a mistake when she spots a movement on a small ledge on the far side of the wall. Squinting her eyes she steps closer, her hands moving to her bow without her even realizing it. Before she is able to draw an arrow however, Shazuh starts hacking at her hand frantically, causing her to stop and throwing the bird an accusing glance. What?
Shazuh just shakes his little head and has just opened his beak to say something when another voice sounds through the cavern.
Who ever you are you better have a good reason to wake me up from my nap.
When the elf has stopped speaking, Viss sits in silence for a few seconds, processing his words. In the back of her head she can still feel the throbbing beat of the enraged flora and fauna around her.
It is just..., she starts after some more moments have passed. I mean... all my life I have spent being angry for different reasons. You yourself have given me more than one lesson on that matter, she pauses, thinking. And you were right. I know that now. In my fury I never really understood that the only one I was hurting was myself. She glances at the elf who only smiles, waiting for her to continue. But when we mediated just now and I felt the anger and rage of nature... it felt so right. I wanted it to carry me away. I wanted to scream and rampage with it. But isn't that wrong? Won't that only end in tragedy once more? Shouldn't there be a peaceful way?
When Viss has finished speaking, Curai looks at her intently for a few moments before he suddenly bursts out in laughter. Unaware that the elf was even capable of an outburst like this Viss is taking aback, wondering if he is making fun of her.
Her confusion must have shown because Curai quickly stops. I'm sorry, child, don't think I'm laughing to insult you. he says, still grinning. It is just that I would have never thought to hear words like this out of your mouth, they seemed... strangely out of place. His expressions softens again and a tint of sadness creeps into his eyes. How I wished that we had gotten more time together. There are so many things I didn't get the chance to teach you. He sighs and the sadness is gone again. But luckily you turned out quite fine anyway. But to answer your question. No. Anger and rage, while often harmful and destructive are not in itself bad. They are part of of every living being just as much as joy and happiness. Anger can be a mighty fuel...
But you said that something fueled by anger is...
I know what I said, child and I stand by it. Anger is a mighty fuel and a dangerous one. The important thing is to learn when it is right to use it and when it is not.
I'm not sure I understand that.
And sadly we don't have time for me to explain it to you in the detail that would be necessary, but maybe think about it like this. When you stumble over a stone, what would be the sense in being angry at the stone?
None, I guess? Viss answered, suddenly feeling like a young girl again.
Of course not. But say someone picks up the stone and throws it at someone, would you be angry at the stone now?
Viss laughed. Of course not!
But what about the person who threw the stone?
Viss thought about this a little bit. I guess it depends on why he threw the stone.
Curai smiled. Exactly! There is the chance that they threw the stone in an act of defense, or maybe even didn't even intend to hit someone. Would the person be deserving of your anger in that case?
I see where you are going with that. No I wouldn't be angry. She thinks a moment. Or well, at least I shouldn't be.
Right, but what if the person, threw the stone for no other reason, than to hurt someone else?
I think that would be the time, where I am supposed to get angry then.
Yes, in this case the person is deserving of your anger. Even more so, not getting angry at such a thing would be the greater sin. For one should never be impassive in the face of injustice. Whose feelings aren't moved by acts of evil and who doesn't feel compelled to fight against such acts with all their might, well, those people might as well be evil themselves.
I see. Viss stood up. Well, I guess I better go and show that Zerome thing what it means to piss of nature then, huh?
Curai winced. I wish your phrasing would be a bit more elegant but yes, it is time for you to leave, child. The elf stood up and the dome of branches slowly opened up around them, the vines and liana retreating in the undergrowth of the jungle.
When they were standing on the forest clearing Curai gently took Viss' hands in his.
We'll have to separate for now. As for your task, I'll take it on myself to talk to Oldoraphon and mobilize the powers of plants and trees. Your task should be to seek out the Hothepa in the realm of animals and ask for their help. Curai makes a small waving gesture with his hand and from somewhere out of the tree a blackbird comes flying down. Viss immediately recognizes it as the one that has been mocking her on her way through the forest. This is Shazuh. I think that he'll be a useful companion on the journey you have to make.
Shazuh eyes Viss, the small black eyes still filled with obvious contempt. He turns his had to Curai. I'm only doing this because I still owe you for that time you freed me from that trap, you know.
Yes I am aware of that. And you can consider the debt paid once my daughter has fulfilled her tasks.
Daughter? Really? Anybody ever told you that you two look nothing alike?
It has been brought to my attention, yes Shazuh. There was a hint of exasperation in Curai's voice.
Just asking. None of my fucking business, eh? The bird eyes Viss once more.
Hothepa won't like it though. And if they don't like it, well, there isn't a damn thing I can do about this, you know that.
Curai nodded. I am aware of that, but I have confidence that my daughter will be able to handle the situation just fine, that doesn't have to be your concern.
OK then. The bird quickly flapped over to Viss' shoulder. Just so you can't say I didn't warn you. Turning his eyes on Viss again he continues. Well then, Missy, I hear we are on a tight schedule, so I guess you better hold on to your tail, he glances down Viss' backside. Or what's left of it anyway.
Viss who had been standing there slightly dumbfounded, trying her best to make sense of the conversation, had just opening her mouth to ask a question when all of the sudden existence stopped being. Before shock or fear had time to settle in it returned just as fast as it had vanished.
Viss looks around in confusion. The forest and Curai are gone. Instead she is standing on what appears to be a slope of a gigantic mountain. When she turns around she can see a vast green plain below here. She spots a large dark area and wonders if it might be a lake when she notices that it is moving. She is about to ask Shazuh about it when the realization of what she is seeing hits her. It wasn't a lake. It was a herd of some kind grazing animals. But for a herd to appear that big from this far away... she shakes her head in disbelieve. There must be ten thousands if not hundreds of thousand animals down there.
What is this place? Unable to hide the awe in her voice, Viss turns her head to look at Shazuh.
The blackbird fluffs up his feathers and there is unmistakable pride in his voice. This is the realm of animals. This is the only place in all of existence where we can live as we like, without interference from any of you so called sentient races. There seems to be a hint of a sneer in the bird's last words.
Viss had turned her head back to look over the planes. It is beautiful, she says absentmindedly as she watches a massive flock of birds circle overhead.
Yes, it is. And you can consider yourself really lucky. Not many even know of the existence of this place and even fewer of your kind have ever set foot in here. As it is, chances are I myself will get in real trouble for bringing you here at all. But come, we better hurry. The faster we bring you to see Hothepa the sooner this whole affair will be over. One way or another.
Something in the words of the bird makes Viss very nervous. So, this Hothepa you are talking about. Are they something like your god?
God? this time Shazuh didn't even try to hide the sneer from his voice. Animals don't have gods. Only mankind and the like are so helpless in figuring out how to live that they created rulers for themselves.
Viss nodded, in a way that did make sense. So they are your king then?
Shazuh sighed. Again with your mankind terms. What is it with you that everything you encounter has to fit into some kind of formula otherwise you won't comprehend it? Well, but I guess for the sake of making things easier, yes, I guess you could call Hothepa our ruler. Though you might also call him our protector, our guide, they are a lot more than could be described just a single word. Do you understand?
Of course, Viss answered quickly. To be honest from what Shazuh had said that Hothepa still sounded very much like a ruler to her but she decided not to argue with the blackbird. How about you bring me to this Hothepa then?
Instead of an answer Shazuh leaves Viss' shoulder and flies up the slope, Viss following him as fast as she can.
They haven't gone far when they arrive at the entrance to a cave and Shazuh lands on Viss' shoulder again.
In there? she asks. Somehow the thought of walking into a dark cave didn't seem very appealing to her.
Unless you decided that you don't want to bother Hothepa with you problems after all, yes, 'in there' it is.
OK... Wait just a second. She takes the figurine of Tessa from her pocket and transforms the T-Rex back to her usual form. Something about the hovering presence of her reptile companion makes her feel a lot calmer. Now I'm ready! she says with a grin as she sees Shazuh's startled expression when the dinosaur appears.
As always Tessa takes a few moments to orientate herself. When she understands that they are yet again in an unfamiliar place she tilts her head at Viss questioningly. This is the animal realm, Viss explains briefly. And apparently we are here to see your king.
Tessa's loud snort makes it clear that even the concepts of kings isn't something she considers worth having. Viss laughs, patting her friend on the hind leg. How about you tell him that in person then, huh? Come on, let's go.
Together the three of them enter the cave. To Viss' surprise the inside isn't nearly as dark as she would have suspected as there is some kind of luminescent lichen growing all over the stone walls, giving the surroundings a greenish tint. The tunnel they were walking through was big enough so that even Tessa had no need of lowering her head.
They had followed the tunnel for only a few minutes when it suddenly widened into a cavern large enough that one or two sizable mansions could have fitted in there. Viss looks around, but other than the size the cavern didn't seem to be any different than the tunnel had been. She searches for a continuation of the tunnel on the far end of the room but even though the lichen seem to shine even brighter here she isn't able to spot anything.
She is about to ask Shazuh if he has made a mistake when she spots a movement on a small ledge on the far side of the wall. Squinting her eyes she steps closer, her hands moving to her bow without her even realizing it. Before she is able to draw an arrow however, Shazuh starts hacking at her hand frantically, causing her to stop and throwing the bird an accusing glance. What?
Shazuh just shakes his little head and has just opened his beak to say something when another voice sounds through the cavern.
Who ever you are you better have a good reason to wake me up from my nap.
KittenMaster
Member
<Good writeup as usual.
I bet Baldur will be excited to fight alongside a massive army of animals.>
I bet Baldur will be excited to fight alongside a massive army of animals.>
ThLunarian
Member
There is considerable chaos in this wayward corner of the Astral Sea as disparate factions take stock of their place in this loose alliance - though it is a relatively amiable chaos, all things considered.
When the month has nearly drawn to a close, Cecil Fairhaven appears on the beach, in approximately the same spot from which he had left. He looks around to find an enormous floating island that is packed to the brim with animals (many of which ordinarily do not belong there), an armada's worth of flying ships, and a number of floating factories.
"Hello again," he says. "I see you've all been busy. As have I."
A beat passes, and then, high above the island, a substantial landmass is manifested. This landmass is perhaps half the size of Yggdrasil's island, but rather than being filled with nature's wonders, it is instead home to a city. A great castle can be seen along the edge.
"I've brought my old kingdom along," he explains. "Thanks to a coordinated effort by the Guild of Mages, of course."
He looks around at the party. "Ladies and gentlemen. I believe we have an invasion to plan?"
****************
The Desert Condor leads the armadas of Asgard and the Nine Hell across the Astral Sea, toward the nation that was once known as Esperia. Behind them are the Kingdom of Evrai and the Wilds of Yggdrasil, floating side by side; Menek's floating factories flank the two floating land masses.
It is slow going; to maintain the integrity of such a large force requires a significantly slower approach.
When a week has passed (the first of two, if the Desert Condor's instruments have estimated correctly), a small force of ships can be seen approaching from the distance.
They are clockwork in appearance, and, much like the Palace from which they departed, their mechanical innards are on display for all to see. Though the machines are rather less technologically advanced than the Desert Condor, or indeed most of the ships in the fleet, they are also living creatures in and of themselves.
"On behalf of Lady Brigh, Goddess of Invention, we offer our lives in service to the cause of putting an end to the scourge of Zerome!" a magically-amplified voice projects.
After a brief logistical hiccup, during which a contingent of cogwork scientists visit one of the Isle of Enlightenment's factories to share their knowledge, the fleet trudges on.
Another week's journey brings the continent into view - and things are much different than when Satra made his escape a few weeks earlier.
It is clear that the entire continent has been terraformed into a gigantic, artificial landscape. The shape of the coast is not curvy and flowing; it is jagged and angular, the surfaces flat and barren.
Almost no time passes before swarms depart from the shore, headed straight for the fleet.
((Going to pause here, both to allow for optional reactions and "BATTLESTATIONS!" kind of stuff, and to allow Viss to get a little closer to catching up))
When the month has nearly drawn to a close, Cecil Fairhaven appears on the beach, in approximately the same spot from which he had left. He looks around to find an enormous floating island that is packed to the brim with animals (many of which ordinarily do not belong there), an armada's worth of flying ships, and a number of floating factories.
"Hello again," he says. "I see you've all been busy. As have I."
A beat passes, and then, high above the island, a substantial landmass is manifested. This landmass is perhaps half the size of Yggdrasil's island, but rather than being filled with nature's wonders, it is instead home to a city. A great castle can be seen along the edge.
"I've brought my old kingdom along," he explains. "Thanks to a coordinated effort by the Guild of Mages, of course."
He looks around at the party. "Ladies and gentlemen. I believe we have an invasion to plan?"
****************
The Desert Condor leads the armadas of Asgard and the Nine Hell across the Astral Sea, toward the nation that was once known as Esperia. Behind them are the Kingdom of Evrai and the Wilds of Yggdrasil, floating side by side; Menek's floating factories flank the two floating land masses.
It is slow going; to maintain the integrity of such a large force requires a significantly slower approach.
When a week has passed (the first of two, if the Desert Condor's instruments have estimated correctly), a small force of ships can be seen approaching from the distance.
They are clockwork in appearance, and, much like the Palace from which they departed, their mechanical innards are on display for all to see. Though the machines are rather less technologically advanced than the Desert Condor, or indeed most of the ships in the fleet, they are also living creatures in and of themselves.
"On behalf of Lady Brigh, Goddess of Invention, we offer our lives in service to the cause of putting an end to the scourge of Zerome!" a magically-amplified voice projects.
After a brief logistical hiccup, during which a contingent of cogwork scientists visit one of the Isle of Enlightenment's factories to share their knowledge, the fleet trudges on.
Another week's journey brings the continent into view - and things are much different than when Satra made his escape a few weeks earlier.
It is clear that the entire continent has been terraformed into a gigantic, artificial landscape. The shape of the coast is not curvy and flowing; it is jagged and angular, the surfaces flat and barren.
Almost no time passes before swarms depart from the shore, headed straight for the fleet.
((Going to pause here, both to allow for optional reactions and "BATTLESTATIONS!" kind of stuff, and to allow Viss to get a little closer to catching up))
Fleshbane levitates into the air, his arms crossed over the crystal mounted in his chest that glows with rhythmic throbbing. Higher and higher, he leaves a pulsing contrail of plasma in his wake as he tours the disparate forces assembled to destroy Zerome.
It is a motley armada, perhaps the largest and most eclectic armed force ever brought to bear in the Astral Sea. There chances are slim, but a low probability for success is better than none at all. Thermodynamic miracles happen at every attosecond, who is to say they will not be the beneficiary on this day.
He has brought no army of his own, only the desperate gambit of a minor deity among minor deities. But even in desperation, Fleshbane may yet be the fulcrum upon which the fate of the multiverse turns.
For reasons he does not fully understand himself, he takes up position on the fringes of Brigh's forces. Perhaps he longs for his own kind, to at least exist on the periphery of constructs unified in thought and deed if he cannot return himself.
"Once more into the breach," he muses to himself.
It is a motley armada, perhaps the largest and most eclectic armed force ever brought to bear in the Astral Sea. There chances are slim, but a low probability for success is better than none at all. Thermodynamic miracles happen at every attosecond, who is to say they will not be the beneficiary on this day.
He has brought no army of his own, only the desperate gambit of a minor deity among minor deities. But even in desperation, Fleshbane may yet be the fulcrum upon which the fate of the multiverse turns.
For reasons he does not fully understand himself, he takes up position on the fringes of Brigh's forces. Perhaps he longs for his own kind, to at least exist on the periphery of constructs unified in thought and deed if he cannot return himself.
"Once more into the breach," he muses to himself.
KittenMaster
Member
Dewie whines. The upset kobold's displeasure with the abrupt drop in forward speed prompts Satra to respond, "I don't like it either, but I'm afraid large islands and all of these other ships aren't built to run a high parsec per hour output. Besides, it'll give the magical generator a chance to keep a steady charge."
In the following week that the clockwork craft machines come into view and their intentions are stated boldly, Satra nods to Dewie and flicks a finger towards the controls, "That was a magical message. Have the ship cast a similar spell to broadcast a response."
One of the crystals in the core of the ship glows. Its power is then channeled through a conduit that directs the flow of its energy to the bridge. The spell hits Satra, magnifying his voice to allow it to reach great distances.
Quick to trust, he answers, "We are open to form any alliance that can help."
<I think I'll wait until later to react to the oncoming forces, I assume the allies Viss will get will join us as well?>
In the following week that the clockwork craft machines come into view and their intentions are stated boldly, Satra nods to Dewie and flicks a finger towards the controls, "That was a magical message. Have the ship cast a similar spell to broadcast a response."
One of the crystals in the core of the ship glows. Its power is then channeled through a conduit that directs the flow of its energy to the bridge. The spell hits Satra, magnifying his voice to allow it to reach great distances.
Quick to trust, he answers, "We are open to form any alliance that can help."
<I think I'll wait until later to react to the oncoming forces, I assume the allies Viss will get will join us as well?>
Axelhortsemchi
Member
Shulmor spends much of the week sitting in his new throne, issuing formation orders as is needed. Being rendered mortal once more forces him to occasionally get up and attend to mundane tasks like eating, but the slow pace does not seem to bother him.
For a moment, Shulmor mistakes the clockwork machines of Brigh as forces of Zerome. He rockets up from the chair and is about to start shouting orders when the identity of the living machines is revealed. He sits back down, never objecting to more forces joining what he's viewing as a precursor to the army he must raise for his new empire.
By the time the arrive at the continent, Shulmor is more than ready to begin burning back the machine infection. As the swarms head towards them, he motions for Satra to turn on the voice amplifier.
"The time has come! We have pushed forward with the singular goal of eradicating this mechanical cancer from the Astral Sea, and now it stands before us! It thinks to slow us down with a swarm of mechanical gnats, but it shall not! The battle for everyone's souls begins now. Show no mercy! Leave nothing of Zerome standing! By the time the day is through, What was once a would-be god shall be nothing more than a glass parking lot. TO WAR!"
When the message ends and the screen clicks off, Shulmor sits back down in his throne, waiting for when more direct control will be needed.
For a moment, Shulmor mistakes the clockwork machines of Brigh as forces of Zerome. He rockets up from the chair and is about to start shouting orders when the identity of the living machines is revealed. He sits back down, never objecting to more forces joining what he's viewing as a precursor to the army he must raise for his new empire.
By the time the arrive at the continent, Shulmor is more than ready to begin burning back the machine infection. As the swarms head towards them, he motions for Satra to turn on the voice amplifier.
"The time has come! We have pushed forward with the singular goal of eradicating this mechanical cancer from the Astral Sea, and now it stands before us! It thinks to slow us down with a swarm of mechanical gnats, but it shall not! The battle for everyone's souls begins now. Show no mercy! Leave nothing of Zerome standing! By the time the day is through, What was once a would-be god shall be nothing more than a glass parking lot. TO WAR!"
When the message ends and the screen clicks off, Shulmor sits back down in his throne, waiting for when more direct control will be needed.
KittenMaster
Member
<According to Reddit, you are smarter than Chtulhu>
Axelhortsemchi
Member
((Lol, good shit. I was strongly considering getting some boosts for Shulmor that would have put him up to 32 charisma, but after getting delichified I needed to spend a lot of that fixing his health and AC. At least he has a functionally infinite number of dead shots and deadly aim uses now
))ThLunarian
Member
((Okay, time to get this show on the road, with apologies to Nezumi and Azih for not waiting for them to catch up))
Battle Soundtrack
The incoming swarm moves far faster than any ship in the fleet could hope to match, let alone the entire lot of them.Its density and magnitude stretch for at least a mile, and its density renders it nearly opaque.
The Asgardians are the first to strike. Ten ships line up in a row at the front of the fleet, and, when the time is right, they create a sustained web of lightning. Hordes of drones, as yet unseen on an individual basis, are fried into oblivion, falling from the sky and into the pink sea below.
This only stops them for a few minutes, as eventually the Asgardians' mana reserves deplete, and the web dissipates.
Then the real fireworks begin.
The swarm of drones is comprised chiefly of two models, each of which is based loosely on the design of the Raven Queen's archons. The first is surrounded by a gyroscopic sphere, lined on all sides with razor-sharp implements of destruction. When approaching any target, they become a whirling ball of death, bouncing in unpredictable directions.
The other model is slower and much more stationary. It is armed with laser blasters and some number of missiles.
The gyroscopes outnumber the artillery by a nearly 5:1 margin.
Vampires of all stripes take flight from the decks of the hellish armada. Some take the form of hulking, winged beasts which smash the drones with their fists; others opt to become acidic mist, which eats away at the metallic flesh of the enemy while rendering them safe from physical harm.
Greater Devils emerge in force on the decks of their ships and utter foul-tongued invocations which bombard the drones with unholy energy, overloading their circuits and causing them to hurtle to their demise.
It is not long before the entire fleet is surrounded by the swarm, and yet they fight on.
There is an all-out assault on Yggdrasil's Island, where the combined might of the secret animal dimension comes out in force. Wildebeests trample; dinosaurs use their mighty jaws filled with pointy teeth; elephants smash; swarms of locusts engulf the machines and, with the guidance of a higher power, know exactly which circuits to disconnect to make the machines fail.
At the rear of the fleet, Brigh's clockwork scientists and archmages have devised a way to reprogram archons to fight on their side.
The Desert Condor is not faring well. Due to the necessarily hasty production schedule, there are more kinks in the armor of the ship than there appeared at first glance, and it is having serious trouble dealing with the legions of gyroscopes.
Alarms are going off from all directions. Despite Satra and Shulmor's best efforts, chaos has begun to leak inside the ship. Multiple consoles have already exploded, and sparks and steam/smoke are omnipresent.
"SIR!" a struggling pilot, borrowed from an Asgardian ship, barks, "We are losing structural integrity! Engines are failing and our defenses have failed!"
"The ship is lost," says the third-highest-ranking officer aboard - an Archdevil, borrowed from Mephistopholes's forces. He teleports off the ship, sending the lesser-ranking officers into a panic.
((Waiting for reactions from Satra and Shulmor, since they're definitely on the ship. Hoping to get those by tomorrow and then I'll continue; if anyone else can fit a post in before then, go for it))
Battle Soundtrack
The incoming swarm moves far faster than any ship in the fleet could hope to match, let alone the entire lot of them.Its density and magnitude stretch for at least a mile, and its density renders it nearly opaque.
The Asgardians are the first to strike. Ten ships line up in a row at the front of the fleet, and, when the time is right, they create a sustained web of lightning. Hordes of drones, as yet unseen on an individual basis, are fried into oblivion, falling from the sky and into the pink sea below.
This only stops them for a few minutes, as eventually the Asgardians' mana reserves deplete, and the web dissipates.
Then the real fireworks begin.
The swarm of drones is comprised chiefly of two models, each of which is based loosely on the design of the Raven Queen's archons. The first is surrounded by a gyroscopic sphere, lined on all sides with razor-sharp implements of destruction. When approaching any target, they become a whirling ball of death, bouncing in unpredictable directions.
The other model is slower and much more stationary. It is armed with laser blasters and some number of missiles.
The gyroscopes outnumber the artillery by a nearly 5:1 margin.
Vampires of all stripes take flight from the decks of the hellish armada. Some take the form of hulking, winged beasts which smash the drones with their fists; others opt to become acidic mist, which eats away at the metallic flesh of the enemy while rendering them safe from physical harm.
Greater Devils emerge in force on the decks of their ships and utter foul-tongued invocations which bombard the drones with unholy energy, overloading their circuits and causing them to hurtle to their demise.
It is not long before the entire fleet is surrounded by the swarm, and yet they fight on.
There is an all-out assault on Yggdrasil's Island, where the combined might of the secret animal dimension comes out in force. Wildebeests trample; dinosaurs use their mighty jaws filled with pointy teeth; elephants smash; swarms of locusts engulf the machines and, with the guidance of a higher power, know exactly which circuits to disconnect to make the machines fail.
At the rear of the fleet, Brigh's clockwork scientists and archmages have devised a way to reprogram archons to fight on their side.
The Desert Condor is not faring well. Due to the necessarily hasty production schedule, there are more kinks in the armor of the ship than there appeared at first glance, and it is having serious trouble dealing with the legions of gyroscopes.
Alarms are going off from all directions. Despite Satra and Shulmor's best efforts, chaos has begun to leak inside the ship. Multiple consoles have already exploded, and sparks and steam/smoke are omnipresent.
"SIR!" a struggling pilot, borrowed from an Asgardian ship, barks, "We are losing structural integrity! Engines are failing and our defenses have failed!"
"The ship is lost," says the third-highest-ranking officer aboard - an Archdevil, borrowed from Mephistopholes's forces. He teleports off the ship, sending the lesser-ranking officers into a panic.
((Waiting for reactions from Satra and Shulmor, since they're definitely on the ship. Hoping to get those by tomorrow and then I'll continue; if anyone else can fit a post in before then, go for it))
KittenMaster
Member
In what should be the ship's finest moment, the Desert Condor begins to lose structural integrity as it continues to disappoint and fail to resist the attacks even with mystical shelling present. It rapidly takes damage in the first seconds of battle to the chagrin and despair of the crew.
Satra and Dewie do their best to fight back, quickly adjusting controls to act in response, and overriding command posts made absent by panicked crew men.
"Shulmor!" he yells, "I need you to lead these men and gather them."
He beckons the ship to begin a teleportation spell in the middle of the bridge. At the same time, Dewie inputs the code for the ship to translate to arcane language to cast a spell to defend the ship during the teleportation. On the outside of the ship, hatches flip open to expose white orbs lined throughout the ship. They glow white, charging up force from within the ship only briefly until they are shot out at the swarm of ships. They are magic missiles; many blast away a number of gyroscopic fliers, but the machines quickly adjust their routines, suddenly dodging the force blast shots with artificial dexterity.
The magic missiles adapt.
The remaining missiles dart about like wasps, giving chase, flanking the bogies then blasting them in their confusion. The storm of magic missiles easily out maneuver the capabilities of the gyroscopes.
As the self defense systems take effect, Satra announces to Shulmor, "I want you to take your men and step on the teleporter with them. The Desert Condor is not going to hold together much longer..."
As the fleet approaches in front, effectively blockading their approach, Satra takes a deep breath, "My sister had taken a ship against impossible odds, I never believed it until now but.. this doesn't look so hard, I think."
He smiles, "All of my time in the astral sea I had hoped to find her, thinking that she had finally been sunk at sea, but she survived for sure."
He presses inputs at the panel in front of him, "I'm going to stay behind and keep the Desert Condor fighting for just a bit longer, and I'm going to live to tell about it, no matter how much they damage my ship. If my sister can do it, I am going to follow her one last time."
Just as Dewie triumphantly joins him in manning the control panel, Satra picks the kobold up by its shoulder and tosses him to the teleportation glyph. Satra returns his gaze to the battle in front, "The Desert Condor only has enough life to fire the main cannon once."
As the ship charges its weapon, he states, "But one shot is all it needs."
---
<Waiting to see what happens before I can describe the destructive effects of the main cannon>
Satra and Dewie do their best to fight back, quickly adjusting controls to act in response, and overriding command posts made absent by panicked crew men.
"Shulmor!" he yells, "I need you to lead these men and gather them."
He beckons the ship to begin a teleportation spell in the middle of the bridge. At the same time, Dewie inputs the code for the ship to translate to arcane language to cast a spell to defend the ship during the teleportation. On the outside of the ship, hatches flip open to expose white orbs lined throughout the ship. They glow white, charging up force from within the ship only briefly until they are shot out at the swarm of ships. They are magic missiles; many blast away a number of gyroscopic fliers, but the machines quickly adjust their routines, suddenly dodging the force blast shots with artificial dexterity.
The magic missiles adapt.
The remaining missiles dart about like wasps, giving chase, flanking the bogies then blasting them in their confusion. The storm of magic missiles easily out maneuver the capabilities of the gyroscopes.
As the self defense systems take effect, Satra announces to Shulmor, "I want you to take your men and step on the teleporter with them. The Desert Condor is not going to hold together much longer..."
As the fleet approaches in front, effectively blockading their approach, Satra takes a deep breath, "My sister had taken a ship against impossible odds, I never believed it until now but.. this doesn't look so hard, I think."
He smiles, "All of my time in the astral sea I had hoped to find her, thinking that she had finally been sunk at sea, but she survived for sure."
He presses inputs at the panel in front of him, "I'm going to stay behind and keep the Desert Condor fighting for just a bit longer, and I'm going to live to tell about it, no matter how much they damage my ship. If my sister can do it, I am going to follow her one last time."
Just as Dewie triumphantly joins him in manning the control panel, Satra picks the kobold up by its shoulder and tosses him to the teleportation glyph. Satra returns his gaze to the battle in front, "The Desert Condor only has enough life to fire the main cannon once."
As the ship charges its weapon, he states, "But one shot is all it needs."
---
<Waiting to see what happens before I can describe the destructive effects of the main cannon>
*******
Back on the beach
*******
There are a few items that ah, me and mine have been working on that should come in handy in the upcoming battle. Menek says spreading his arms wide to cause a simple table to appear laden with various devices. It seems like he has gotten far more comfortable with the use of magic since the others last saw him.
He picks the first one up. This one should be familiar to Satra and Shulmor. Aldeberaan's stealth generators. We were able to reverse engineer them and create more. It is possible that Zerone would know how to see through them but I highly doubt it in the few weeks it has had. Especially as Aldebaraan seemed like one to hoard knowledge to itself, his lab as I recall was bashed to quite tiny pieces in any case by Fleshbane. They should come in quite useful to any special forces we may have gathered
The second gadget he picks up is a long tube stylized with dragon motifs. A long range gun... sniper I suppose you might call it. Shoots raw arcane energy over long distances. A bit unstable but should be able to rip through anything vulnerable to magic, I suspect most of Zerone's defenses would fall under that category
The third is a belt with what looks like a glowing energy pack for a buckle A shield generator that is capable of nullifying the divinity divestment radiation that Zerone used to strip divine beings of their power. Only works for the being wearing it but I imagine it will be invaluable for our divine allies
The forth are simple rectangular blocks. Explosives designed to react to a large store of divine energy.. like the Harvester that Zerone is using to store the divine power he stole. We get these close to that perverse storage unit and it should spell the end of that monstrous machine
Fifth is a glass bubble that seems to contain a greenish blue moss. The creation of a quite talented biologist. A fungus that chews through artificial circuitry with quite astonishing speed and growth rates. The bauble contains enough nitrogen to get the fungus started on even a dead world and from there the fungus will eat through metal and silicon and produce further nitrogen to fuel its own growth. Drop it on a machine world and quite quickly all of the computing hardware will have been converted to moss in quite a viral fashion.
Carefully placing this back on the table Menek muses Of course bombardments of these would be most useful on the computer planets that form part of Zerone's hive mind in its home universe. Luckily we have managed to discover the location of that plane. Once we start the battle some of our forces should split off to attack Zerone there and turn some of its CPU planets into fungus. The processing power the machine cancer possesses is beyond formidable. However with a distributed attack we may be able to overwhelm even that especially if we force it to pay attention back to its core worlds and destroy them. It has chosen after all to be a single intellect. We can make it pay for its lonely arrogance.
Back on the beach
*******
There are a few items that ah, me and mine have been working on that should come in handy in the upcoming battle. Menek says spreading his arms wide to cause a simple table to appear laden with various devices. It seems like he has gotten far more comfortable with the use of magic since the others last saw him.
He picks the first one up. This one should be familiar to Satra and Shulmor. Aldeberaan's stealth generators. We were able to reverse engineer them and create more. It is possible that Zerone would know how to see through them but I highly doubt it in the few weeks it has had. Especially as Aldebaraan seemed like one to hoard knowledge to itself, his lab as I recall was bashed to quite tiny pieces in any case by Fleshbane. They should come in quite useful to any special forces we may have gathered
The second gadget he picks up is a long tube stylized with dragon motifs. A long range gun... sniper I suppose you might call it. Shoots raw arcane energy over long distances. A bit unstable but should be able to rip through anything vulnerable to magic, I suspect most of Zerone's defenses would fall under that category
The third is a belt with what looks like a glowing energy pack for a buckle A shield generator that is capable of nullifying the divinity divestment radiation that Zerone used to strip divine beings of their power. Only works for the being wearing it but I imagine it will be invaluable for our divine allies
The forth are simple rectangular blocks. Explosives designed to react to a large store of divine energy.. like the Harvester that Zerone is using to store the divine power he stole. We get these close to that perverse storage unit and it should spell the end of that monstrous machine
Fifth is a glass bubble that seems to contain a greenish blue moss. The creation of a quite talented biologist. A fungus that chews through artificial circuitry with quite astonishing speed and growth rates. The bauble contains enough nitrogen to get the fungus started on even a dead world and from there the fungus will eat through metal and silicon and produce further nitrogen to fuel its own growth. Drop it on a machine world and quite quickly all of the computing hardware will have been converted to moss in quite a viral fashion.
Carefully placing this back on the table Menek muses Of course bombardments of these would be most useful on the computer planets that form part of Zerone's hive mind in its home universe. Luckily we have managed to discover the location of that plane. Once we start the battle some of our forces should split off to attack Zerone there and turn some of its CPU planets into fungus. The processing power the machine cancer possesses is beyond formidable. However with a distributed attack we may be able to overwhelm even that especially if we force it to pay attention back to its core worlds and destroy them. It has chosen after all to be a single intellect. We can make it pay for its lonely arrogance.
*******
During the battle
*******
Far behind the front line Menek stands in a control room watching as the fleet collides with the defences as scientists both mystical and mundane scurry around taking readings and watching vidscreens from the decks of the ships.
Plaster scoots by and with a grin drops off two maps with significant locations circled in red crayon. The way those things stand out it wasn't too hard to find out where they were Menek picks the maps up and nods as he examines them. He then opens a communication channel with the Desert Condor.
Scanners and analysis have discovered the approximate locations of both the Divinity Dissolution Engine and the Harvester of the Sacrement. As well the teams ready to assault Zerone's home worlds are ready to go on your mark.
During the battle
*******
Far behind the front line Menek stands in a control room watching as the fleet collides with the defences as scientists both mystical and mundane scurry around taking readings and watching vidscreens from the decks of the ships.
Plaster scoots by and with a grin drops off two maps with significant locations circled in red crayon. The way those things stand out it wasn't too hard to find out where they were Menek picks the maps up and nods as he examines them. He then opens a communication channel with the Desert Condor.
Scanners and analysis have discovered the approximate locations of both the Divinity Dissolution Engine and the Harvester of the Sacrement. As well the teams ready to assault Zerone's home worlds are ready to go on your mark.
Axelhortsemchi
Member
((I'll call dibs on the sniper rifle if groovy gadgets are getting dolled out))
Shulmor is visibly enraged as the archdevil flagrantly abandons his post. The lower ranked officers running around in a panic worsens his rage until he goes off, pulling out the Conqueror and firing three blanks into the air, the gun's banshee howl overtaking the noises of fright and panic.
"There will be ORDER! If you force me to resort to a traditional decimation of officers, then so be it. You are all a disgrace! Pathetic! This is a combat situation, and in combat, catastrophic ship damage is one of many possibilities. You will all return to your posts immediately, and stand by for further instructions from the ship's captain. If you refuse to follow procedures for handling a waning ship, your death is certain. I will simply grant it ahead of schedule as opposed to letting you die in the crash."
When Satra makes it clear that a speedy, magic assisted evacuation is happening, Shulmor commands the lesser officers and crew once more. "It seems the captain's orders should be simple to follow. Everyone, make your way to the teleporter in an orderly fashion. There is ample time to evacuate everyone; trampling and hysteria will not be tolerated."
Shulmor is the last to step on the teleporter, turning to Satra before doing so. Having an idea of what Satra's going for, he addresses the pilot one last time before evacuating "Your actions in the face of death's shadow are a model for ship captains everywhere. Should you be unable to slip out of this one, know that you will be given a nationally recognized holiday in my next empire." He grins, the expression no longer appearing as an unnatural mockery of amusement now that Shulmor once more has flesh. "Naturally, failure to observe it will be punishable by death. May the final roar of this ship deafen Zerome." Shulmor crosses his arms and extends his palms in an odd gesture that is presumably some kind of foreign salute before stepping on the teleporter, leaving Satra alone with the Desert Condor.
Shulmor is visibly enraged as the archdevil flagrantly abandons his post. The lower ranked officers running around in a panic worsens his rage until he goes off, pulling out the Conqueror and firing three blanks into the air, the gun's banshee howl overtaking the noises of fright and panic.
"There will be ORDER! If you force me to resort to a traditional decimation of officers, then so be it. You are all a disgrace! Pathetic! This is a combat situation, and in combat, catastrophic ship damage is one of many possibilities. You will all return to your posts immediately, and stand by for further instructions from the ship's captain. If you refuse to follow procedures for handling a waning ship, your death is certain. I will simply grant it ahead of schedule as opposed to letting you die in the crash."
When Satra makes it clear that a speedy, magic assisted evacuation is happening, Shulmor commands the lesser officers and crew once more. "It seems the captain's orders should be simple to follow. Everyone, make your way to the teleporter in an orderly fashion. There is ample time to evacuate everyone; trampling and hysteria will not be tolerated."
Shulmor is the last to step on the teleporter, turning to Satra before doing so. Having an idea of what Satra's going for, he addresses the pilot one last time before evacuating "Your actions in the face of death's shadow are a model for ship captains everywhere. Should you be unable to slip out of this one, know that you will be given a nationally recognized holiday in my next empire." He grins, the expression no longer appearing as an unnatural mockery of amusement now that Shulmor once more has flesh. "Naturally, failure to observe it will be punishable by death. May the final roar of this ship deafen Zerome." Shulmor crosses his arms and extends his palms in an odd gesture that is presumably some kind of foreign salute before stepping on the teleporter, leaving Satra alone with the Desert Condor.
KittenMaster
Member
<Gah, I really wanted to make an accompanying drawing but I fell ill and bedridden so I won't be able to do so and still meet a timely window to post.>
"Bah, I'm just following in my sister's footsteps.. she did it first.." he says, as his voice shrinks to a mutter, meek to accept any glory and fame that he knows his sister gave up everything to gain herself. He begins to question in his mind, and in his eyes how much he will deserve it.
After a flash behind him, he is alone against an oncoming throng of air ships and relatively smaller war machines. He promised he would cheat death, but it dawned a rare moment of self-awareness in light of his tendency to be all talk and no show.
A message on the channel grants brief respite from solitude. He returns a response to Menek, "Desert Condor will make an opening in their forces. Coordinate further attacks with Shulmor who is now on a different ship, over." He flicks a switch to cut further input from his end.
Dewie sneaks into the second pilot's chair. This alarms Satra greatly, his head turning quickly between the Kobold and the Zerome army.
He panics, "Dewie! Why are you still here!?"
It gives a determined look, and chatters and grumbles bravely.
What Dewie says stuns Satra, but it calms him. "So you don't want to be abandoned, either, huh? If that's what you want, you're good enough to fly with me."
The damaged ship uses what working side thrusters it has left to aim the nose of the ship towards a spot where damage would best expose a path to their ultimate targets. It activates as many thrusters as it can, each movement counteracting each other, as if trying to keep the ship braced. Then arcane power races to the start of the cannon, generating a large glowing light. Finally, the Desert Condor launches its spell.
Screeching a high pitched whirr, a thin black line extends from the cannon and pierces between the gaps of the ships.
After a moment, dark clouds begin to burst, surrounding this beam. It is light itself being destroyed, and as with the light, any machine caught near the beam is torn apart and melted, sensitive parts rupture and catch flame causing mass explosions that can be seen even from a distance.
The effect of the beam widens, and soon its anti-matter effects create a vacuum, pulling against machines trying to fly away only for failure to get them caught in its destructive grasp.
In the moments following the beam's final moments, light fills the void it had left, and a noticeable gap in the enemy forces had been made. Unfortunately, this will not win the battle, and it will most likely deem the Desert Condor a major threat.
Buckling in, Satra tells Dewie, "Buckle in. The best we can hope for is another crash landing after this."
"Bah, I'm just following in my sister's footsteps.. she did it first.." he says, as his voice shrinks to a mutter, meek to accept any glory and fame that he knows his sister gave up everything to gain herself. He begins to question in his mind, and in his eyes how much he will deserve it.
After a flash behind him, he is alone against an oncoming throng of air ships and relatively smaller war machines. He promised he would cheat death, but it dawned a rare moment of self-awareness in light of his tendency to be all talk and no show.
A message on the channel grants brief respite from solitude. He returns a response to Menek, "Desert Condor will make an opening in their forces. Coordinate further attacks with Shulmor who is now on a different ship, over." He flicks a switch to cut further input from his end.
Dewie sneaks into the second pilot's chair. This alarms Satra greatly, his head turning quickly between the Kobold and the Zerome army.
He panics, "Dewie! Why are you still here!?"
It gives a determined look, and chatters and grumbles bravely.
What Dewie says stuns Satra, but it calms him. "So you don't want to be abandoned, either, huh? If that's what you want, you're good enough to fly with me."
The damaged ship uses what working side thrusters it has left to aim the nose of the ship towards a spot where damage would best expose a path to their ultimate targets. It activates as many thrusters as it can, each movement counteracting each other, as if trying to keep the ship braced. Then arcane power races to the start of the cannon, generating a large glowing light. Finally, the Desert Condor launches its spell.
Screeching a high pitched whirr, a thin black line extends from the cannon and pierces between the gaps of the ships.
After a moment, dark clouds begin to burst, surrounding this beam. It is light itself being destroyed, and as with the light, any machine caught near the beam is torn apart and melted, sensitive parts rupture and catch flame causing mass explosions that can be seen even from a distance.
The effect of the beam widens, and soon its anti-matter effects create a vacuum, pulling against machines trying to fly away only for failure to get them caught in its destructive grasp.
In the moments following the beam's final moments, light fills the void it had left, and a noticeable gap in the enemy forces had been made. Unfortunately, this will not win the battle, and it will most likely deem the Desert Condor a major threat.
Buckling in, Satra tells Dewie, "Buckle in. The best we can hope for is another crash landing after this."
ThLunarian
Member
Beads of sweat trickle down Cecil Fairhaven's brow for the first time in many years, and he realizes that this is the first time he has encountered the sensation of fatigue since emerging from Romarg's tomb.
Any one, five, TEN of these mechanical monstrosities would be trivial to dispatch - a tiny surge of holy energy, he was finding, was enough to overload their circuitry.
There were not ten, or twenty, or even a hundred of these constructs, however. Exact counts were impossible and reliable estimates were difficult, but he supposed that there might be close to a million of them, more or less.
At present time, there was no end to them in sight.
And he was beginning to get tired.
The civilians of Evrai who had been unable or unwilling to fight had been left behind in Faerun, leaving the city filled only with combat troops. He had trained them to fight this particular enemy as much as had been possible within one month's time, and now here they were, armed with adamantiun weaponry and specially designed spells meant to cripple constructs.
His people were fighting both effectively and valiantly, yet even still, he feared that their numbers may not be enough...
-----
An explosion sounded overhead. Baldur tore the metal brain from the thing he had just plucked from the sky, spit it from his canine mouth, and looked up.
The giant sky boat - the one that the man with the pink kobold built - was falling.
And it was headed straight for Yggdrasil.
The tree-god looked like it was doing nothing, as most trees usually do, but Baldur knew better. It had been - and still was - maintaining enchantments that fortified the skin of the island's denizens such that they stood a chance against spheres full of metal spinning blades.
It had also been maintaining a force bubble around itself, to repel the invaders. But if that ship crashed on top of it...
Rarely did Baldur ever deviate from the forms of man and wolf, but now he took the form of an eagle and made a mad airborne dash toward the canopy of the god-tree. Once atop it's highest branch, he became a man, to better channel his own divine power, and poured everything he had into Yggdrasil.
The tree consumed him, and in doing so, gained the power to do what needed to be done.
New growth - branches and leaves and elastic vines - exploded upward through the force bubble, faster than the Desert Condor was falling. They met it high in the sky, and wrapped around it, cushioning the ship to prevent it from crashing.
Back on the island, the fighting continued.
((More to come in a follow up post, but I'm on mobile and need to take a break from typing))
Any one, five, TEN of these mechanical monstrosities would be trivial to dispatch - a tiny surge of holy energy, he was finding, was enough to overload their circuitry.
There were not ten, or twenty, or even a hundred of these constructs, however. Exact counts were impossible and reliable estimates were difficult, but he supposed that there might be close to a million of them, more or less.
At present time, there was no end to them in sight.
And he was beginning to get tired.
The civilians of Evrai who had been unable or unwilling to fight had been left behind in Faerun, leaving the city filled only with combat troops. He had trained them to fight this particular enemy as much as had been possible within one month's time, and now here they were, armed with adamantiun weaponry and specially designed spells meant to cripple constructs.
His people were fighting both effectively and valiantly, yet even still, he feared that their numbers may not be enough...
-----
An explosion sounded overhead. Baldur tore the metal brain from the thing he had just plucked from the sky, spit it from his canine mouth, and looked up.
The giant sky boat - the one that the man with the pink kobold built - was falling.
And it was headed straight for Yggdrasil.
The tree-god looked like it was doing nothing, as most trees usually do, but Baldur knew better. It had been - and still was - maintaining enchantments that fortified the skin of the island's denizens such that they stood a chance against spheres full of metal spinning blades.
It had also been maintaining a force bubble around itself, to repel the invaders. But if that ship crashed on top of it...
Rarely did Baldur ever deviate from the forms of man and wolf, but now he took the form of an eagle and made a mad airborne dash toward the canopy of the god-tree. Once atop it's highest branch, he became a man, to better channel his own divine power, and poured everything he had into Yggdrasil.
The tree consumed him, and in doing so, gained the power to do what needed to be done.
New growth - branches and leaves and elastic vines - exploded upward through the force bubble, faster than the Desert Condor was falling. They met it high in the sky, and wrapped around it, cushioning the ship to prevent it from crashing.
Back on the island, the fighting continued.
((More to come in a follow up post, but I'm on mobile and need to take a break from typing))
((OK. One quick question? Are the extra animals on Yggdrasil the ones Viss has recruited? Would it be best for her to be on that Island as well? I'm sorry, I only have myself to blame for throwing myself so out of the loop. I'm finishing up my piece in the next hours, I just need to know how to embed it, so to speak.))
ThLunarian
Member
((Yeah, that was what I figured would make the most sense. I couldnt think of a better way to move an army of animals
))((Just druids who are good with encouraging plant growth. Just for fluff reasons))
Seeing as Shulmor and Satra are busy with other things Menek focuses on the monitors and scanner readouts in the control center and, at a moment that Menek intuits that Zerone has split it's forces into many multiple separate attack forces that it has to control and coordinate in parallel, he gives the order.
Begin the assault on the cancer's home plane. Operation Return to Nature is now in effect
There is a flurry of activity as the order is relayed and well rehearsed plans are set in motion. Wands and scrolls, prepared in advance for the less powerful magic users, are held up and out while others enhance their chances of successfully using them with Guidance and other spells. The most powerful cast the Plane Shift spells unaided before resorting to the other aids in order to send as many of the invaders into Zerone's Origin Point as possible.
The raiders, in teams of 8, consist of biologists, the most adventurous of the inhabitants of the Isle of Enlightmentment, at least one technician to effect any needed repairs on the jetpacks and oxygen tanks that the teams are equipped with, and an arcane magician with Plane Shift prepared to effect a retreat back to the Island if needed.
The doctrine they are working under is fast, mobile, bombardment and every member of the team is loaded down with the glass bubbles containing the tech eating fungus that would very soon be smashed onto the surface of a number of the largest processor structures that the Isle scanners had managed to identify in Zerone's home dimension.
The makeup of the teams is adjusted a bit after Menek and Viss collaborate on Menek's plans. While the more animal and war focused druids will be in the thick of the fighting in the front lines the druids more amenable to plant life join Menek's raiders, usually replacing the most grateful and terrified of the biologists. These are Swamp Druids, and Cave Druids, and Treesingers, and they carry their fungal ordnance with greater care and reverence than all of the denizens of the Isle of Enlightenment except for Jane. Spells like Command Plant, and Fungul Infestation are prepared and even the most technophobic of the druids force themselves to adjust to the air breathing and travelling devices that they are saddled with. Even the ones who can fly choose to take the jetpacks and reserve their nature magic for the coming assault. The end very much justifies the means in this case.
The crackling feel of static and the smell of burning ozone that accomplishes great works of magic suffuses the air as a multitude of teams shift to the dead surfaces of Origin Point. Appearing on random spots on the giant cold CPUs that make up the body of the Zerone Mind, they scatter and fling their cargo onto the metal and plastic surfaces. At the start most of the fungus withers and dies on the airless, soilless and soulless ground but slowly and surely the blooms of fungi start to take hold and manufacture their own atmosphere to survive and spread with. If it was not for the presence of the newly added druids this might have turned out to be a minor inconvenience to Zerone but the divine magic and presence of the druids nurtures the blooms and encourages them and soon enough they start to spread like green fire, like a spongy virus. like a moist and damp infestation bringing life balance back to the corpse like universe Zerone had created for itself with a deep and furious biological vengeance. What was to be a hit and run raid to district has turned into a full blown invasion.
Haxeworth shouts with glee as he shoots through the air, trailing rocket fuel and smoke as he aims his globes both near existing clumps of spreading green and also deep into the still artificial ground This is more fun than the time I disemboweled a wildebeast with its own tusk. I'm going to take one of these continents as the biggest bleeding trophy of all time. I'm beginning to come around to this cockamamie afterlife theory cause this is PARADISE.
A report comes back via a jury rigged combination of radio waves and planeshifting magic. Operation is an unqualified success Menek. Since the fungus is spreading so fast in most of these places that the druids have started to command them to evolve in different ways with the biologists help. They're starting to produce oxygen so we can stay here longer if we want, and they're also shaping some of them into these giant... towers to spit spores even further into the uninfested areas. They're even summoning crawlers and borers to dig deep into the surface and get a path for the fungus to penetrate even further. I don't think a lot of these characters are planning to come back to be honest with you. I think they're going to fight to the death here if they have to though... there hasn't been any pushback... yet anyway. I don't think the blasted mental god conceived of anything like this happening so deep in its territory. There weren't any defenses. It was all just ticking clockwork and a lot of it ain't ticking now.
Somewhere in the center of what is now miles of green Jane sits, tank and mask discarded to one side, underneath a giant twisting outgrowth of fungus with arms stretching out and twisting into the sky festooned with oxygen producing mushrooms and toadstools. She dabs at the tears in her eyes with a hanky. It's all just so fucking beautiful she sniffles.
((Hope I didn't step on any toes here or make Meneks' plans too Mary-Suey. I just figured Zerone would have very logically not bothered with any defenses as it's never needed them and so the attack would go wildly successfully especially with nature magic involved as well with the biological weapons that they used.))
ThLunarian
Member
Somewhere in his enhanced mind's eye, Cecil Fairhaven can sense some of the crew depart on an important mission, but this is hardly a blip on his metaphorical radar, as there are far more pressing matters to deal with.
His people are being wiped out. That was the truth of it; for whatever reason, the Swarm had deemed the island of Evrai, and perhaps Cecil himself, as the single greatest threat to its wellbeing, and so it had focused a much more concentrated effort on the island.
And the Swarm was winning. For every construct he put to the sword, fifty seemed to take its place. He could feel the divine protective wards flickering, and suddenly the realization came to him.
His people would not survive this day.
He purses his lips and hesitates for only a moment before making the most difficult decision of his life.
Cecil teleports to the Hall of Vigils, deep within his Palace, where the veteran clerics and wizards wove their magical wards and protective barriers.
"Listen well," he says solemnly. "You - we all - have fought valiantly on this day, but I have seen the truth of it: We will not survive."
The robed men and women glance around at each other uncomfortably before looking back to their returned king.
"The enemy has seen fit to destroy us, and so they shall, even if they be annihilated by our allies soon after.
"And so I have made a decision. Rather than attempt to stall, fighting to the very last man and endangering our allies, thereby weakening their odds of success when the time comes to attack the Metal One head-on, we are going to sacrifice our kingdom for the good of all reality. On my mark, drop the wards, and focus all of your power, divine and arcane alike, upon me."
-----------
Aboard the Cimeries, Shulmor hears a transmission come in over the radio - it sounds like the Paladin, Cecil Fairhaven.
Devils of the Nine Hells and Vampires of Ravenloft, heed my warning: PULL BACK. You must withdraw from the battlefield temporarily, for in ten minutes' time, there will be an unavoidable explosion of Holy Power. I have designed it to overload the swarm-bots while leaving everyone else relatively unscathed, but I CANNOT GUARANTEE THE SAFETY OF ANY EVIL-ALIGNED BIOLOGICAL ENTITY. This is your final warning."
There is a split second of silence aboard the Cimeries, and then the Devils spring into action, making for a hasty retreat to what they believe to be a safe distance from the battlefield.
-------
There is a silent explosion.
Its origin point is the floating island that was once known as the Holy Kingdom of Evrai, and a torrent of blinding white light is so pervasive that Shulmor cannot make out the anything, even through the enhanced viewscreen aboard the ship.
The light lasts for a good thirty seconds before dying out, and when it does, the swarm is nowhere to be seen.
Nor is the Floating Island of Evrai.
With the threat neutralized at enormous cost, the fleet soldiers on.
It is a matter of hours before the fleet reaches the coast of the continent. It is abundantly clear now that the terraforming is complete; the ground is no longer soil and grass. Instead it is metal and circuits, all in service of the processing power of Zerome.
As the first line of offense crosses over into his territory, they notice the ground itself changing and moving around. Forms are beginning to take shape - forms that will no doubt begin attacking in short order.
The assault on Zerome has begun.
((This is it - possibly the final narrative piece before the Last Combat. The objective is to reach the capital of Esperia - where the Observatory was. You're going to encounter significant robotic resistance, which you are welcome to imagine and describe on your own. Just to provide a little guidance: this is NOT going to be a cakewalk and should be a difficult and harrowing battle for everyone. You'll encounter resistance every step of the way.
By the time everyone has completed their stories, the remaining fleet will have reached the outskirts of the city, and will be facing down Zerome; I will describe this in more detail when the time comes, and that will lead us to the final battle.
You can also go ahead and say what buffs you're going to want active for when the Final Combat actually begins.
Lastly, I want to apologize for not being as responsive in this thread lately as I should have. I am still trying to adjust to my first busy season at this job and I'm doing the best I can, but there are many days where I just can't get to this thread. Thanks very much for your patience, and I hope everyone has fun with this part
Azih - I didn't forget about your people, by the way. They are currently wreaking havoc at Origin Point. You just described it very well and I don't have much to add))
His people are being wiped out. That was the truth of it; for whatever reason, the Swarm had deemed the island of Evrai, and perhaps Cecil himself, as the single greatest threat to its wellbeing, and so it had focused a much more concentrated effort on the island.
And the Swarm was winning. For every construct he put to the sword, fifty seemed to take its place. He could feel the divine protective wards flickering, and suddenly the realization came to him.
His people would not survive this day.
He purses his lips and hesitates for only a moment before making the most difficult decision of his life.
Cecil teleports to the Hall of Vigils, deep within his Palace, where the veteran clerics and wizards wove their magical wards and protective barriers.
"Listen well," he says solemnly. "You - we all - have fought valiantly on this day, but I have seen the truth of it: We will not survive."
The robed men and women glance around at each other uncomfortably before looking back to their returned king.
"The enemy has seen fit to destroy us, and so they shall, even if they be annihilated by our allies soon after.
"And so I have made a decision. Rather than attempt to stall, fighting to the very last man and endangering our allies, thereby weakening their odds of success when the time comes to attack the Metal One head-on, we are going to sacrifice our kingdom for the good of all reality. On my mark, drop the wards, and focus all of your power, divine and arcane alike, upon me."
-----------
Aboard the Cimeries, Shulmor hears a transmission come in over the radio - it sounds like the Paladin, Cecil Fairhaven.
Devils of the Nine Hells and Vampires of Ravenloft, heed my warning: PULL BACK. You must withdraw from the battlefield temporarily, for in ten minutes' time, there will be an unavoidable explosion of Holy Power. I have designed it to overload the swarm-bots while leaving everyone else relatively unscathed, but I CANNOT GUARANTEE THE SAFETY OF ANY EVIL-ALIGNED BIOLOGICAL ENTITY. This is your final warning."
There is a split second of silence aboard the Cimeries, and then the Devils spring into action, making for a hasty retreat to what they believe to be a safe distance from the battlefield.
-------
There is a silent explosion.
Its origin point is the floating island that was once known as the Holy Kingdom of Evrai, and a torrent of blinding white light is so pervasive that Shulmor cannot make out the anything, even through the enhanced viewscreen aboard the ship.
The light lasts for a good thirty seconds before dying out, and when it does, the swarm is nowhere to be seen.
Nor is the Floating Island of Evrai.
With the threat neutralized at enormous cost, the fleet soldiers on.
It is a matter of hours before the fleet reaches the coast of the continent. It is abundantly clear now that the terraforming is complete; the ground is no longer soil and grass. Instead it is metal and circuits, all in service of the processing power of Zerome.
As the first line of offense crosses over into his territory, they notice the ground itself changing and moving around. Forms are beginning to take shape - forms that will no doubt begin attacking in short order.
The assault on Zerome has begun.
((This is it - possibly the final narrative piece before the Last Combat. The objective is to reach the capital of Esperia - where the Observatory was. You're going to encounter significant robotic resistance, which you are welcome to imagine and describe on your own. Just to provide a little guidance: this is NOT going to be a cakewalk and should be a difficult and harrowing battle for everyone. You'll encounter resistance every step of the way.
By the time everyone has completed their stories, the remaining fleet will have reached the outskirts of the city, and will be facing down Zerome; I will describe this in more detail when the time comes, and that will lead us to the final battle.
You can also go ahead and say what buffs you're going to want active for when the Final Combat actually begins.
Lastly, I want to apologize for not being as responsive in this thread lately as I should have. I am still trying to adjust to my first busy season at this job and I'm doing the best I can, but there are many days where I just can't get to this thread. Thanks very much for your patience, and I hope everyone has fun with this part
Azih - I didn't forget about your people, by the way. They are currently wreaking havoc at Origin Point. You just described it very well and I don't have much to add))
KittenMaster
Member
<I've been drawing something for my reaction to getting caught by Ygg'drasil, but it might not be done until tomorrow.
As for buffs... I can easily make new alchemist spells in minutes, so I could easily do requests and still have my standard spell list in the end, maybe?>
As for buffs... I can easily make new alchemist spells in minutes, so I could easily do requests and still have my standard spell list in the end, maybe?>
Fleshbane holds his position, falling back as the amassed armadas sally forth to engage Zeromes seemingly infinite mechanized forces. Between the fingers of his right hand is a gold coin engraved with a pair of spectacles across a rapiers blade.
Arent you going to help?
My prerogative is to engage and destroy Zerome. Collateral damage is expected and acceptable if it is in service of that purpose.
Have you ever considered that perhaps if you were involved that they would be sustaining less casualties and be better able to help destroy it?
I have calculated that my own contributions to this battle would be statistically insignificant. Moving to intercept at this time would almost assuredly result in my destruction, and then we are well and truly lost.
Its the Eldrazi all over again. Its terrible.
It is beautiful.
The distance is pocked marked with the bright lights of explosions that wink out of existence almost as soon as they appear. Even from this distance, it is clear that the combined forces of the biological life forms are no match for Zeromes construct might. It is everything he has ever dreamed ofmore than he ever dreamed of. The complete annihilation of all biological life across all planes and the imposition of the Machine Age. And even though he ironically now finds himself on the side trying to withstand the irresistible onslaught and prevent the ascension, he is still able to appreciate the mechanical, calculated efficiency of it all. There is no wasted movement, no energy unwisely spent. He should be filled with a sort of longing to be a part of it, to be a cog in the engine of destruction, but instead he feels hollow.
The battle is lost in a blinding flash of light as Fairhaven sacrifices himself and the entire kingdom of Evrai to secure even this fleeting victory over Zeromes forces. The forces advance on what remains of Esperia, momentarily free from opposition as Zerome formulates its countermove.
Kid had the right idea.
Let us ensure that it was not in vain.
Fleshbane lurches forward, flying through the interstellar medium of the Astral Sea at maximum speed, winking in and out of existence as he rips a jagged interrupted tear across time space as he folds and reenters space and before folding it again as quickly as he can, punching holes through the continuum without regard for safety or lasting damage he might inflict. He has just reached the airspace of the continent when an artillery explosion knocks him out of the sky, a ballistic projectile carefully calculated by the malign intelligence that now possesses the entire landmass. His energy absorption abilities render the attack ultimately harmless, but he makes an impressive impact crater on the metallic ground.
Looks like you have his attention.
The very ground is a machine of impossible magnitude, its various parts moving and shifting and assembling themselves into autonomic units. Autonomic units wholly familiar to Fleshbane.
The first of the xenocide units is upon him before he even has time to call forth his sword, knocking him to the ground once more, its adamantine fingers reshaping themselves to end in impossibly sharp points to dig into Fleshbanes own carapace and see what lurks inside. There is no banter, no threats, no monologing. There is nothing more to be said between the wayward scion and his creator.
With a grinding noise, the attacking duplicate suddenly grows still before it unmakes itself into its disparate, constituent components that shower over the bewildered Fleshbane.
Youre welcome. I dont have it in me to take them all out, you know. Youre going to have to contribute to this fight.
The substance of Fleshbanes armor grows fluid, rivulets coursing down the seams and spikes of his arm to reshape itself into the massive razor of his great sword. Oh, you neednt concern yourself with that.
#
The Pan-Skirn Consensus built the xenocide units to be weapons of terror, as much to conduct psychological warfare as physical. And while they are more than capable combatants, there is an inefficiency to their efforts; a compulsion to opt for torment rather than ending a being in the quickest way possible. It was a weakness that had, at times, been exploited to fell a small handful of them, including Fleshbane himself on that ashen day that seems so long ago now.
Zerome, however, seems to have improved upon that weakness.
The metallic juggernauts know every weak point, every secret flaw in Fleshbanes superstructure as they pummel him with titanic blows. They are not exact copies, however; whatever they are made of is not quite so sturdy as Fleshbanes own construction, and the gaping holes in their chests where a resonance crystal would fit are empty, denying them his own mastery of energy manipulation and projection. In a one on one match, they are ultimately outclassed by the genuine article. Even in a two to one match up, he retains a slight advantage, and a three to one match up is not so overwhelming that he does not have a greater than 49% probability of success.
But for every one he lays low, another two rise from the mechanized substrate on which they do battle and charge at him with the full force of their considerable mass. Fleshbane does not know what has become of his allieswhether his allies still exist. He cannot see further than the sea of identical faces, leering at him with darkened versions of his own malevolent approximation of a grin. Once, hes able to clear enough space to take to the air again and soar over the horde of mimics, but only for a few yards before another artillery shell sends him crashing down to the ground once more. At least this time, his impact takes out a few of his opponents.
Behind you, warns his disembodied companion. Left flank, too. Right flank! Dead ahead!
You are not helping! Fleshbane thunders. The swarm of Xenocide units does not react to his fury, they only seek to close the distance and tear him to scrap metal. From time to time, one of them crumbles of its own accord, but it is a sporadic event that only marginally improves his odds as he trudges forward.
In the distance, the walls of the capital loom, and overhead the menagerie of vehicles, creatures, and creations move in toward their final destination. Zeromes attention is apparently not unlimited, as the xenocide units fail to replace or restore themselves as Fleshbane cuts them down. His armor is dented, scorched and scarred. All trace of the lustrous shine he had only hours ago have vanished. All that remains is the machine built for war.
Onward, he trudges toward his final fate.
((Only real buffs I have are Force Screen (+4 shield bonus), Vigor for 5 temp HP (for overchanneling, though the Talented psionic feat lets me do that without damage for 3rd level powers and below) and Energy Conversion. Also going to move into the Tactics of the Wolf Stance, anyone who flanks with me gets +7 on damage rolls.))
Arent you going to help?
My prerogative is to engage and destroy Zerome. Collateral damage is expected and acceptable if it is in service of that purpose.
Have you ever considered that perhaps if you were involved that they would be sustaining less casualties and be better able to help destroy it?
I have calculated that my own contributions to this battle would be statistically insignificant. Moving to intercept at this time would almost assuredly result in my destruction, and then we are well and truly lost.
Its the Eldrazi all over again. Its terrible.
It is beautiful.
The distance is pocked marked with the bright lights of explosions that wink out of existence almost as soon as they appear. Even from this distance, it is clear that the combined forces of the biological life forms are no match for Zeromes construct might. It is everything he has ever dreamed ofmore than he ever dreamed of. The complete annihilation of all biological life across all planes and the imposition of the Machine Age. And even though he ironically now finds himself on the side trying to withstand the irresistible onslaught and prevent the ascension, he is still able to appreciate the mechanical, calculated efficiency of it all. There is no wasted movement, no energy unwisely spent. He should be filled with a sort of longing to be a part of it, to be a cog in the engine of destruction, but instead he feels hollow.
The battle is lost in a blinding flash of light as Fairhaven sacrifices himself and the entire kingdom of Evrai to secure even this fleeting victory over Zeromes forces. The forces advance on what remains of Esperia, momentarily free from opposition as Zerome formulates its countermove.
Kid had the right idea.
Let us ensure that it was not in vain.
Fleshbane lurches forward, flying through the interstellar medium of the Astral Sea at maximum speed, winking in and out of existence as he rips a jagged interrupted tear across time space as he folds and reenters space and before folding it again as quickly as he can, punching holes through the continuum without regard for safety or lasting damage he might inflict. He has just reached the airspace of the continent when an artillery explosion knocks him out of the sky, a ballistic projectile carefully calculated by the malign intelligence that now possesses the entire landmass. His energy absorption abilities render the attack ultimately harmless, but he makes an impressive impact crater on the metallic ground.
Looks like you have his attention.
The very ground is a machine of impossible magnitude, its various parts moving and shifting and assembling themselves into autonomic units. Autonomic units wholly familiar to Fleshbane.
The first of the xenocide units is upon him before he even has time to call forth his sword, knocking him to the ground once more, its adamantine fingers reshaping themselves to end in impossibly sharp points to dig into Fleshbanes own carapace and see what lurks inside. There is no banter, no threats, no monologing. There is nothing more to be said between the wayward scion and his creator.
With a grinding noise, the attacking duplicate suddenly grows still before it unmakes itself into its disparate, constituent components that shower over the bewildered Fleshbane.
Youre welcome. I dont have it in me to take them all out, you know. Youre going to have to contribute to this fight.
The substance of Fleshbanes armor grows fluid, rivulets coursing down the seams and spikes of his arm to reshape itself into the massive razor of his great sword. Oh, you neednt concern yourself with that.
#
The Pan-Skirn Consensus built the xenocide units to be weapons of terror, as much to conduct psychological warfare as physical. And while they are more than capable combatants, there is an inefficiency to their efforts; a compulsion to opt for torment rather than ending a being in the quickest way possible. It was a weakness that had, at times, been exploited to fell a small handful of them, including Fleshbane himself on that ashen day that seems so long ago now.
Zerome, however, seems to have improved upon that weakness.
The metallic juggernauts know every weak point, every secret flaw in Fleshbanes superstructure as they pummel him with titanic blows. They are not exact copies, however; whatever they are made of is not quite so sturdy as Fleshbanes own construction, and the gaping holes in their chests where a resonance crystal would fit are empty, denying them his own mastery of energy manipulation and projection. In a one on one match, they are ultimately outclassed by the genuine article. Even in a two to one match up, he retains a slight advantage, and a three to one match up is not so overwhelming that he does not have a greater than 49% probability of success.
But for every one he lays low, another two rise from the mechanized substrate on which they do battle and charge at him with the full force of their considerable mass. Fleshbane does not know what has become of his allieswhether his allies still exist. He cannot see further than the sea of identical faces, leering at him with darkened versions of his own malevolent approximation of a grin. Once, hes able to clear enough space to take to the air again and soar over the horde of mimics, but only for a few yards before another artillery shell sends him crashing down to the ground once more. At least this time, his impact takes out a few of his opponents.
Behind you, warns his disembodied companion. Left flank, too. Right flank! Dead ahead!
You are not helping! Fleshbane thunders. The swarm of Xenocide units does not react to his fury, they only seek to close the distance and tear him to scrap metal. From time to time, one of them crumbles of its own accord, but it is a sporadic event that only marginally improves his odds as he trudges forward.
In the distance, the walls of the capital loom, and overhead the menagerie of vehicles, creatures, and creations move in toward their final destination. Zeromes attention is apparently not unlimited, as the xenocide units fail to replace or restore themselves as Fleshbane cuts them down. His armor is dented, scorched and scarred. All trace of the lustrous shine he had only hours ago have vanished. All that remains is the machine built for war.
Onward, he trudges toward his final fate.
((Only real buffs I have are Force Screen (+4 shield bonus), Vigor for 5 temp HP (for overchanneling, though the Talented psionic feat lets me do that without damage for 3rd level powers and below) and Energy Conversion. Also going to move into the Tactics of the Wolf Stance, anyone who flanks with me gets +7 on damage rolls.))
KittenMaster
Member
The Desert Condor is given its final resting perch atop Ygg'drasil's open palm, finding rest after a tragically short life in service.
Inside, Satra and Dewie are shaken and knocked from the impact. They aren't sure what exactly had happened, but grow aware of still being alive. Looking around as if making sure of something, Satra flicks the comm switch and gives a brief announcement with a burst of tired air from his lung, "National Satra day is cancelled." He flicks off the comm switch again and gives himself a moment to collect himself.
Outside the window are branches trapping the ship. It's immediately apparent the ship won't be moving from the spot. He glances to Dewie, making sure the kobold is alright, and gratefully tells him, "Glad to see you okay."
After a moment, he comments, "This must be the luck we've built up after all of my engineering attempts gone awry."
Dewie begins to survey the forest surroundings with a monitor looking out where their normal vantage point in the bridge is blind. Satra reaches to his panel, his seat belt keeping him from falling forward due to the tilted ship. He begins adjusting controls to set up another teleport.
Suddenly, Dewie begins to cry out, a loud groan like a pained horn. Satra looks over worried to see the kobold pointing at the screen. Noticing what he does, the pilot unhooks his belt and races closer, leaning to observe more closely.
The chieftan had become a part of the great tree.
The two journey out of the ship using spells to aid their mobility in the dangerous heights. Satra kicks out a window and they climb out, working their way over to where they saw Baldur.
Once Satra is near, he comes close, not sure if the man is still alive or not but his concern weighs on him. He extends his palms to touch the side of the face, "Chief! Chief..." Dewie is more notably distressed seeing the chieftan this way.
Axelhortsemchi
Member
From the Cimeries, Shulmor relays the command to pull back across the fleet, ensuring that the devils and vampires on other ships also hear the warning and pull back. There is little he can do during Cecil's final flash but observe, and even in that, he is forced to avert his eyes from the sheer brightness of the light. As the light fades, Shulmor takes to the radio. "All forces, the holy flare is over, and the swarm as well as Evrai have vanished. Repeat, the swarm and Evrai have vanished. Resume assault course on the capital. All stations, prepare for combat. More machines could appear at any time."
With that done, Shulmor waits until the ship is in deployment distance, and when it is time to stop leading and begin the ground assault, passes the comms to the next commander in line. Shulmor loads himself into an orbital pod, preparing to head down with a small strike force of devils, vampires, and Loki-aligned valkyries. Despite the noise of the landing, it goes smoothly enough, and Shulmor orders the team to begin scouting and setting up a perimeter as he flies up to the remnants of the tallest building in the area. He takes out the magical rifle Menek gave him and looks it over. The scope is powerful enough to see targets rather clearly for miles around, and with the magic fired being comparable to hard light, he doesn't even have to factor arrival time on distant targets. Being a wrathful god from the rooftops will be too simple.
It is only a few minutes before the strike force begins to find targets. Larger robots that control some of the smaller machines. Pylons that contribute to the spontaneous generation of more forces. Radio towers that speed up the spread of information from one part of Zerome to another. Shulmor takes aim at the nearby radio towers, and fires. The beams of magic blow through the support struts and the communications machinery, bringing them down. The nearby forces are put on alert, but the task force remains unspotted for now. Shulmor then takes aim at one of the larger robots in a crowd of smaller combat units, and after signaling the task force to strike, fires. The shot blows through its CPU, instantly shutting it down. and having an immediate effect on the coordination of the smaller machines. In this state, they are easy pickings for the descending devils, vampires, and valkyries. More machines begin to rise from the ground, but Shulmor quickly swivels his aim to the nearby pylons and blows them up one after the other, keeping his forces from being overwhelmed.
As the remaining forces in the area are mopped up, Shulmor notices two entirely mechanical jets harrying one of the smaller ships trying to drop more advancing forces in the combat zone. The targets are far off and the jets are moving near mach 3, making the shot almost impossible. Almost. His focus poured through the scope, Shulmor fires off a round, piercing the cockpit of one of the jets and the software keeping it on course. It veers out of control and crashes into the other jet, sending them down in a ball of flames. In anyone else's hands, Menek's sniper rifle would have exploded by now. But not only does Shulmor know techniques to severely reduce the odds of a misfire, his will to rule extends over firearms, offering a supernatural protection against misfires that makes a gun exploding on him nearly unheard of.
The strategy of cutting communications, sending the ground forces into disorder, and mopping them up proves effective, but it does not last forever. Shulmor can only slow the spread of information, and eventually the robotic resistance begins to adapt. The landscape shifts and morphs, removing any buildings that can be used as sniper perches. As for the enemy forces, the model of large robots and smaller, controlled ones is completely overhauled. The ground now spews an immense number of smaller machines. They fly and run around the task force, harrying them with stored lightning, liquid nitrogen spray, and whirling blades. All things that would be useless against Shulmor in his lich form, but now that he has flesh, he is forced to frantically dodge attacks from all sides. The close range has rendered Menek's sniper rifle useless, forcing the deposed emperor to pull out the Conqueror. It is less effective than the sniper shots, but enough to down the small machines with some degree of effectiveness. Unfortunately, there are too many to make this a feasible approach, and they are quickly getting overwhelmed.
On a hunch, Shulmor lets negative energy flow through his arm and grasps one of the machines. Sure enough, negative energy is as effective as positive energy at shorting out the machines. Shulmor frantically fumbles for a handheld radio and calls to the fleet as he tries to stay alive. "Strike force has encountered massive resistance! All available ships, commence long range negative energy bombardment on my position. Long range negative energy bombardment, over!" The assorted forces begin covering those who are evil aligned but not outright immune to negative energy in protective wards as they try to hold out for the strike.
Onboard the devil ships, preparations for a bombardment are made in a swift and orderly matter, with the vampires providing what power they can to bolster the salvos. Meanwhile, aboard Loki's flagship, the S.S. Prancing Bimbo, the trickster god sits aboard the bridge sipping tea. A valkyrie runs in and begins an elaborate system of motions, playing patty cake with the air in front of her, waving her arms around while yelling "SPLEEEEEE! HOOPLAAAAAH~" and bending back at the waist while doing throwing double middle fingers into the air. "Oh good, you remembered your salute this time, report," Loki says dismissively. "Sir, Shulmor has requested a negative energy bombardment on his position. Coordinates are -08.2-" "Oh enough of that, I know where he is, go get the vampires we're quartering to pour some juice into the cannons. I'm going to need my bombing pants for this!" As the valkyrie leaves, Loki snaps his fingers, instantly making tacky, golden puffed out pants appear on him. He reaches into his teacup and pulls out a huge red button marked "BANG!" With a click, the S.S. Prancing Bimbo morphs into a giant cannon with the mouth designed to look like a bunny. As the other ships begin their ranged bombardment, the cannon fires off, filling the air with the sound of a Jamaican airhorn.
The bombardment crashes into the ground at Shulmor's location, darkening the environment around as far as the eye can see. when the black fog clears, the robots are annihilated and the wards had held. The assault was weathered without overwhelming losses to the strike force. They proceed further into the terraformed city, and for a time, it seems as if things are going smoothly again. This is changed when they are cutting through an alley, as a hulking machine busts through one of the walls in front of them. It stands around 9 feet tall and is vaguely shaped as a bald humanoid, only much bulkier. Its right hand ends in a giant, gnarled claw. In between its piercing red eyes is a unit number, TY-1811420. Before the task force can even begin to attack, it is upon them, cutting through five of the surviving squad members with a single swipe of its giant claw. Devil, vampire, and valkyrie entrails fly through the air as the shocked forces try to counterattack. Bullets, blades, and magic of every form they can muster don't seem to slow it down at all. If they're doing any damage, it's not showing. Seeing the situation going to hell, two of the devils grab Shulmor by his arms and begin to retreat from the alley in an effort to escape with their lives. Shulmor, horrified by this development, can only look at the mindless death machine with awe. "Such a lust for organics!" he cries, yelling "HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" as the devils get him out of there.
The robot is still on the hunt, and jumps 80 feet into the air. It lands in the midst of the retreating devils, striking them down. Shulmor is barely able to dodge its claw, but the attack destroys Menek's sniper rifle and his portable communication relay. The resulting explosion launches Shulmor back into a wall and briefly staggers the machine. Stumbling to his feet and coughing blood from the impact, Shulmor does the only thing he can against this monstrosity. He runs. So begins a pattern of Shulmor running through the desolate city as the seemingly unstoppable robot hunts him. He shoots at it as much as he can, but even the most precisely placed shots, swiftly executed shotgun counters from point blank, and assaults of antipaladin magic do little more than briefly stun it, on the rare occasions they do anything at all. Shulmor is getting worn out, and with its ability to burst through walls or jump in from blocks away, the close calls are becoming more and more prevalent. He can't keep this up.
Shulmor eventually finds himself herded into a munitions factory, pushed back to the scaffolding over a vat of molten iron. He can't defeat the machine in a straight battle, but as he stands backed to an edge, he realizes that he can use his evasion to his advantage. He backs up to the very edge of the scaffolding, and as the machine lunges for the kill, dodges around it. For a moment it's slightly off balance, and in that moment Shulmor rushes it, slamming into it with all his strength and firing his shotgun point blank with all the slinger's power his can muster. The last ditch attack is enough to send it falling into the vat. Unfortunately, it soon splashes to the surface, the molten iron seeming to chip away at its surface paint a bit, but not doing real harm. Shulmor runs before it can escape, looking for the room where most of the ammo and explosives are prepared. Sure enough, he finds what he's looking for and with a few bullets, he's able to begin a chain reaction that will blow the entire factory sky high.
Shulmor barely gets out in time as the factory explodes behind him. If not for his supernatural reflexes, the blast would have been fatal, but he is able to dodge the entirety of the wave and shrapnel. Surrounded by burning debris, he'll have to fly over it to escape, but the imminent threat is over. Or so he thought until the machine bursts out of the flaming debris in front of him. It's on fire, missing an eye and has a fair portion of its internal workings exposed, but it doesn't seem to be slowing down at all. With a roar, it's upon Shulmor again.
Unable to escape the debris and knowing that it will grab him if he tries to fly away, Shulmor makes a last stand against the robot. To his credit, the explosion seems to have stripped away some of its defenses as his bullets seem to be staggering it with more frequency, but it just won't stay down. Conversely, a single direct hit of its claw will mean certain death for Shulmor, and a few near hits have already drawn a fair amount of blood.
It seems all is lost when a shadowy silhouette appears atop the wreckage. With the lack of lighting up there and the deadly robot in his face, he can't make out who it is, other than that it appears to be a woman, possibly wearing one of Loki's uniforms. Were he not in the heat of combat, he'd find that odd as he doesn't recall anyone else from his squad surviving. Someone from another force, perhaps?
"Here, use this!" She says, throwing a large, cylindrical device down to where Shulmor and the robot are. "Wait, who are you?" Shulmor asks as he tries to find an opening to grab the new weapon, but she is already gone. Upon picking it up, he realizes that it's a rocket launcher of Zerome's making. It courses with divine energy, and by the looks of it, apparently fires a concentrated blast of deific power. Hefting the device up and aiming at the machine, Shulmor says "There's only room for one tyrant in this world, you mechanical beast." The energy blasts out as a rocket, instantly vaporizing the robot that had harried him so. With that single shot, the launcher is empty.
Finally safe, Shulmor collapses to his knees. His entire strike team has been wiped out, but he has survived without grave injuries. It is a pity that he's lost all contact with the fleet, as this launcher could prove invaluable through reverse engineering. His only option at this point is to trudge into the capital proper and rendezvous with Satra and the other SAED agents. Walking along, he prepares to make Zerome fall.
((Shulmor's lacking in the buff department. He can put true shot on himself and someone else, but other than that, he'll be dependent on others for buffs. He could most use something that will boost AC or general survivability, though attack boosts or boosts to dex/cha would be good too.
I'll be doing another write up later, but for now, sleep time.))
With that done, Shulmor waits until the ship is in deployment distance, and when it is time to stop leading and begin the ground assault, passes the comms to the next commander in line. Shulmor loads himself into an orbital pod, preparing to head down with a small strike force of devils, vampires, and Loki-aligned valkyries. Despite the noise of the landing, it goes smoothly enough, and Shulmor orders the team to begin scouting and setting up a perimeter as he flies up to the remnants of the tallest building in the area. He takes out the magical rifle Menek gave him and looks it over. The scope is powerful enough to see targets rather clearly for miles around, and with the magic fired being comparable to hard light, he doesn't even have to factor arrival time on distant targets. Being a wrathful god from the rooftops will be too simple.
It is only a few minutes before the strike force begins to find targets. Larger robots that control some of the smaller machines. Pylons that contribute to the spontaneous generation of more forces. Radio towers that speed up the spread of information from one part of Zerome to another. Shulmor takes aim at the nearby radio towers, and fires. The beams of magic blow through the support struts and the communications machinery, bringing them down. The nearby forces are put on alert, but the task force remains unspotted for now. Shulmor then takes aim at one of the larger robots in a crowd of smaller combat units, and after signaling the task force to strike, fires. The shot blows through its CPU, instantly shutting it down. and having an immediate effect on the coordination of the smaller machines. In this state, they are easy pickings for the descending devils, vampires, and valkyries. More machines begin to rise from the ground, but Shulmor quickly swivels his aim to the nearby pylons and blows them up one after the other, keeping his forces from being overwhelmed.
As the remaining forces in the area are mopped up, Shulmor notices two entirely mechanical jets harrying one of the smaller ships trying to drop more advancing forces in the combat zone. The targets are far off and the jets are moving near mach 3, making the shot almost impossible. Almost. His focus poured through the scope, Shulmor fires off a round, piercing the cockpit of one of the jets and the software keeping it on course. It veers out of control and crashes into the other jet, sending them down in a ball of flames. In anyone else's hands, Menek's sniper rifle would have exploded by now. But not only does Shulmor know techniques to severely reduce the odds of a misfire, his will to rule extends over firearms, offering a supernatural protection against misfires that makes a gun exploding on him nearly unheard of.
The strategy of cutting communications, sending the ground forces into disorder, and mopping them up proves effective, but it does not last forever. Shulmor can only slow the spread of information, and eventually the robotic resistance begins to adapt. The landscape shifts and morphs, removing any buildings that can be used as sniper perches. As for the enemy forces, the model of large robots and smaller, controlled ones is completely overhauled. The ground now spews an immense number of smaller machines. They fly and run around the task force, harrying them with stored lightning, liquid nitrogen spray, and whirling blades. All things that would be useless against Shulmor in his lich form, but now that he has flesh, he is forced to frantically dodge attacks from all sides. The close range has rendered Menek's sniper rifle useless, forcing the deposed emperor to pull out the Conqueror. It is less effective than the sniper shots, but enough to down the small machines with some degree of effectiveness. Unfortunately, there are too many to make this a feasible approach, and they are quickly getting overwhelmed.
On a hunch, Shulmor lets negative energy flow through his arm and grasps one of the machines. Sure enough, negative energy is as effective as positive energy at shorting out the machines. Shulmor frantically fumbles for a handheld radio and calls to the fleet as he tries to stay alive. "Strike force has encountered massive resistance! All available ships, commence long range negative energy bombardment on my position. Long range negative energy bombardment, over!" The assorted forces begin covering those who are evil aligned but not outright immune to negative energy in protective wards as they try to hold out for the strike.
Onboard the devil ships, preparations for a bombardment are made in a swift and orderly matter, with the vampires providing what power they can to bolster the salvos. Meanwhile, aboard Loki's flagship, the S.S. Prancing Bimbo, the trickster god sits aboard the bridge sipping tea. A valkyrie runs in and begins an elaborate system of motions, playing patty cake with the air in front of her, waving her arms around while yelling "SPLEEEEEE! HOOPLAAAAAH~" and bending back at the waist while doing throwing double middle fingers into the air. "Oh good, you remembered your salute this time, report," Loki says dismissively. "Sir, Shulmor has requested a negative energy bombardment on his position. Coordinates are -08.2-" "Oh enough of that, I know where he is, go get the vampires we're quartering to pour some juice into the cannons. I'm going to need my bombing pants for this!" As the valkyrie leaves, Loki snaps his fingers, instantly making tacky, golden puffed out pants appear on him. He reaches into his teacup and pulls out a huge red button marked "BANG!" With a click, the S.S. Prancing Bimbo morphs into a giant cannon with the mouth designed to look like a bunny. As the other ships begin their ranged bombardment, the cannon fires off, filling the air with the sound of a Jamaican airhorn.
The bombardment crashes into the ground at Shulmor's location, darkening the environment around as far as the eye can see. when the black fog clears, the robots are annihilated and the wards had held. The assault was weathered without overwhelming losses to the strike force. They proceed further into the terraformed city, and for a time, it seems as if things are going smoothly again. This is changed when they are cutting through an alley, as a hulking machine busts through one of the walls in front of them. It stands around 9 feet tall and is vaguely shaped as a bald humanoid, only much bulkier. Its right hand ends in a giant, gnarled claw. In between its piercing red eyes is a unit number, TY-1811420. Before the task force can even begin to attack, it is upon them, cutting through five of the surviving squad members with a single swipe of its giant claw. Devil, vampire, and valkyrie entrails fly through the air as the shocked forces try to counterattack. Bullets, blades, and magic of every form they can muster don't seem to slow it down at all. If they're doing any damage, it's not showing. Seeing the situation going to hell, two of the devils grab Shulmor by his arms and begin to retreat from the alley in an effort to escape with their lives. Shulmor, horrified by this development, can only look at the mindless death machine with awe. "Such a lust for organics!" he cries, yelling "HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" as the devils get him out of there.
The robot is still on the hunt, and jumps 80 feet into the air. It lands in the midst of the retreating devils, striking them down. Shulmor is barely able to dodge its claw, but the attack destroys Menek's sniper rifle and his portable communication relay. The resulting explosion launches Shulmor back into a wall and briefly staggers the machine. Stumbling to his feet and coughing blood from the impact, Shulmor does the only thing he can against this monstrosity. He runs. So begins a pattern of Shulmor running through the desolate city as the seemingly unstoppable robot hunts him. He shoots at it as much as he can, but even the most precisely placed shots, swiftly executed shotgun counters from point blank, and assaults of antipaladin magic do little more than briefly stun it, on the rare occasions they do anything at all. Shulmor is getting worn out, and with its ability to burst through walls or jump in from blocks away, the close calls are becoming more and more prevalent. He can't keep this up.
Shulmor eventually finds himself herded into a munitions factory, pushed back to the scaffolding over a vat of molten iron. He can't defeat the machine in a straight battle, but as he stands backed to an edge, he realizes that he can use his evasion to his advantage. He backs up to the very edge of the scaffolding, and as the machine lunges for the kill, dodges around it. For a moment it's slightly off balance, and in that moment Shulmor rushes it, slamming into it with all his strength and firing his shotgun point blank with all the slinger's power his can muster. The last ditch attack is enough to send it falling into the vat. Unfortunately, it soon splashes to the surface, the molten iron seeming to chip away at its surface paint a bit, but not doing real harm. Shulmor runs before it can escape, looking for the room where most of the ammo and explosives are prepared. Sure enough, he finds what he's looking for and with a few bullets, he's able to begin a chain reaction that will blow the entire factory sky high.
Shulmor barely gets out in time as the factory explodes behind him. If not for his supernatural reflexes, the blast would have been fatal, but he is able to dodge the entirety of the wave and shrapnel. Surrounded by burning debris, he'll have to fly over it to escape, but the imminent threat is over. Or so he thought until the machine bursts out of the flaming debris in front of him. It's on fire, missing an eye and has a fair portion of its internal workings exposed, but it doesn't seem to be slowing down at all. With a roar, it's upon Shulmor again.
Unable to escape the debris and knowing that it will grab him if he tries to fly away, Shulmor makes a last stand against the robot. To his credit, the explosion seems to have stripped away some of its defenses as his bullets seem to be staggering it with more frequency, but it just won't stay down. Conversely, a single direct hit of its claw will mean certain death for Shulmor, and a few near hits have already drawn a fair amount of blood.
It seems all is lost when a shadowy silhouette appears atop the wreckage. With the lack of lighting up there and the deadly robot in his face, he can't make out who it is, other than that it appears to be a woman, possibly wearing one of Loki's uniforms. Were he not in the heat of combat, he'd find that odd as he doesn't recall anyone else from his squad surviving. Someone from another force, perhaps?
"Here, use this!" She says, throwing a large, cylindrical device down to where Shulmor and the robot are. "Wait, who are you?" Shulmor asks as he tries to find an opening to grab the new weapon, but she is already gone. Upon picking it up, he realizes that it's a rocket launcher of Zerome's making. It courses with divine energy, and by the looks of it, apparently fires a concentrated blast of deific power. Hefting the device up and aiming at the machine, Shulmor says "There's only room for one tyrant in this world, you mechanical beast." The energy blasts out as a rocket, instantly vaporizing the robot that had harried him so. With that single shot, the launcher is empty.
Finally safe, Shulmor collapses to his knees. His entire strike team has been wiped out, but he has survived without grave injuries. It is a pity that he's lost all contact with the fleet, as this launcher could prove invaluable through reverse engineering. His only option at this point is to trudge into the capital proper and rendezvous with Satra and the other SAED agents. Walking along, he prepares to make Zerome fall.
((Shulmor's lacking in the buff department. He can put true shot on himself and someone else, but other than that, he'll be dependent on others for buffs. He could most use something that will boost AC or general survivability, though attack boosts or boosts to dex/cha would be good too.
I'll be doing another write up later, but for now, sleep time.))
Axelhortsemchi
Member
The sun rises on the transformed landscape of Esperia, machines glistening in the light. The land is quiet, devoid of any signs of organic life. Only the soft noise of whirring machinery fills the air. There is a unity to the landscape, save for a few tucked away corners, where mishmashed piles of spare parts have hastily been assembled into shelters.
The sun shines through a hole in one of these shacks and directly into Ciel's face. Grumbling, she rolls out of what passes for a bed, throws a drape over the hole, and flops back down. The sun rises enough to present the same problem before a half hour has passed, leading the irritable assassin to stay awake this time.
She changes out of pajamas swiped from one of the clothing stores of Esperia and into her assassin clothes. Today will probably be a repeat of every day before it: she'll scrounge up some food by conjuring a grove, run like hell from hungry machines, maybe break something important looking if she gets bored, and try to keep whatever shelter she lands closest to in working order. Ciel sighs. "Fuck, and getting out of SAED was supposed to be the end of things going to shit."
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For a few magical hours, getting out of SAED was an upturn in Ciel's life. Selling out Sybil, Viss, and Fleshbane to Aldebaran was a great way to go. Her only regret was not getting Menek and Mako put away with them. The official discharge came as a wonderful surprise, and she spent the next few hours in a euphoria of drinking, gambling, and general debauchery. And then the Observatory showed up. Try as she might, she can't escape that damnable floating pile of shit in the sky. The Esperian government proved about as useful as one would expect from a state of pacifists, with the military serving as little more than a shiny, expensive road bump before the mechanized forces that were soon pumping out of there.
As Esperia was overwhelmed, Ciel by and large chose not to fight. There was the occasional machine that made the mistake of chasing her or serving as an opportunistic kill, but they were too many in number, and she wasn't about to risk her life to play hero. For the short time between the onset of the attack and the great assimilation, Ciel was primarily looting stores that could no longer enforce security and putting other hapless survivors in her way to throw off the attention of Zerome's machinery.
The first week after everyone else was gone was the most difficult. With no one else to serve as a distraction and the entire landscape having become a part of Zerome, she was constantly on the run, and escaping Zerome's territory was never an option. It took the full breadth of her skills to remain hidden, and no shelter to rest in meant she was pushed to the brink of exhaustion. Ciel had to pick her targets carefully for scrap metal, and the first several impromptu huts were attacked in short order. As time passed, the machines seemed to pursue her less aggressively. They'd still attack on sight and target the occasional, inevitably empty shelter, but she appeared to be turning into an increasingly lower priority. By the time ten days had passed, Ciel was falling into a schedule.
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First things first, Ciel needs to get food for the day. With no food naturally occurring in this mechanical wasteland, she has to rely on her nature magic. She finds a suitably large clearing and sets down an empty jug and a couple. She'll have to move fast, because once she makes a grove, it will be mere seconds before she has the attention of hostile machines. With a little exertion, part of the mechanical ground morphs into a grove, and Ciel quickly gets to work on harvesting berries and stocking up on water. This time around, she was lucky enough to have the spell bring along a small rabbit nuzzling against one of the trees. The assassin wastes no time in scooping it up and breaking its neck, not stopping at any point. Sure enough, the grove is already fading as machines and tentacles emerge from the ground to return this affront to Zerome. Ciel hauls ass out of there, vanishing from sight with bags and jugs in hand.
She stops a fair distance away, short on breath but confident that the machines have given up chase. She has some water and fruit as she gets to work stripping the rabbit and preparing it for cooking. Making a fire will mean having to relocate again, but a rare occasion of having meat is worth the extra effort.
Relocating after eating puts her near another one of her little caves modified into the area with scrap parts. It is completely trashed, telling her that the machines attacked it recently. That also means it will be a while before they come back, so she's fairly safe here. She'll need more scrap to fix it up, so it looks like it's already scavenging o'clock.
The landscape is rife with parts that can broken off and repurposed. In no time, she's found a springy thingamajig, a whirring doohickey, some shiny whatevers and fragile looking rectangles. If she had any idea what any of this machinery actually did, she could probably put it to better use, but for now, it's working as building materials and assorted appliances.
While gathering, Ciel notices an elephant sized robot trudging along with smaller drones flying around it. It looks important. Breaking it could get her a lot of good parts, and double as a middle finger to the robots occupying this area. She takes her time, staying out of site and analyzing it closely, looking for weak points in its structure. After a few minutes of preparation, she springs into action. Arrows fly at each of the larger machine's joints as a few more fly into open circuitry. As it falters, an additional torrent is unloaded just beneath its chin, where its main processor is located. Another rapid rain downs the small drones before they can do anything meaningful. Ciel moves down from her ambush spot to tear the deactivated machines open and harvest whatever doodads she can. Sure enough, the huge machine has larger pieces of robot stuff, all the better for patching up walls. One large bit is hot to the touch, a possible heater or cooking aid. Ciel drags the parts away in another bag on hand for the task, moving before reinforcements can arrive. The beat up shelter is just far enough away to avoid any potential search parties if past patterns hold up. Dropping the bag in front in front of the trashed dwelling, she sets off to spruce up the place.
A few hours pass and the place is once more presentable. The bed is workable, it's reasonably warm, and rain getting in isn't a concern. Ciel lifts up one of the secret trapdoors she built in to see if any of her pillaged clothes survived the last round of ransacking. To her relief, it's all untouched, so she doesn't have to sleep in assassin gear. There's enough water left for a bath and for cleaning the worn clothing. She eventually lays down to repeat this for the next day. And the next. And the next.
Days give way to weeks, which give way to months, seemingly into eternity. Ciel has long since ceased bothering to keep track of time. For one who looked to her ranger talents as a means of furthering her assassination arts, she may ironically be stuck living off the land until her next death. The monotony is broken as a huge fleet of ships appears on the horizon. Ciel frantically scrambles for a scope and runs out to get a closer look. There's a variety of ships looking to be from different factions, floating factories, and a floating island or two. Looks like things might get interesting around here after all.
Ciel continues to lay low as the sky fills with Zerome's forces. A few forward units begin to show up around the transformed ground, pushing towards the city proper. Ciel stays back, observing and using the opportunity to gather unprecedented amounts of material from fallen machines and soldiers alike. A few robots abruptly shut down from arrow related damage as advance units move forward, but the assassin does not go out of her way to offer assistance to the new invaders. Of course she wants Zerome to fall so Esperia can go back to being a livable city, but she's not about to risk her life when countless forces have shown up to do that for her. As she continues to pillage the battlefield, she comes across a dead valkyrie. Oddly enough, there's a faint aura of chaos and evil around the corpse. Upon looking it over, Ciel is able to determine that whatever Norse god the valkyrie served was different from Sybil's. If the aura's any indication, Ciel could pass off as one of these valkyries with a few adjustments to make the uniform small enough for her. She strips the dead valkyrie of her uniform and holds onto it as a possible ticket out of this plane, depending on how things shake out from this attack.
Ciel has just dropped off her ill-gotten gains at her nearest shelter and changed into the Loki valkyrie outfit when she notices that the terrain is changing much more rapidly in response to the attack. Some kind of small battle station has popped up within line of sight. She wants to leave it be, but if she doesn't take care of it and just stays inside, she'll probably get noticed and attacked. She approaches and sees a few almost archon-like machines attending to a tower. At the top of the tower is a humanoid robot holding some kind of hefty weapon. A blast roars from the weapon, sailing into the sky and downing one of the ships. With that, Ciel has been given reason beside her own safety to take down this perch. Holy fucking shit! I want that. Ciel vanishes from sight and slips around the pseudo-archon patrols as a trivial matter. She scampers up the tower, getting behind the rocket launcher robot. A well aimed flurry of arrows slams into its circuitry and sends it careening over the edge of the tower.
Ciel catches the launcher, and is nearly pulled over the ledge with it for her efforts. The damn thing is heavy, slowing her down considerably. She climbs back down, but commandeering the launcher has gotten a lot of unwelcome attention. The archon-esque machines apparently see her now, and are flashing red. Other combat-ready machines are emerging from the ground. Well, now or never, Ciel thinks, deciding to test out the launcher she just got. With a pull of the trigger, a wave of divine energy wipes out all the robots in front of her and throws her back a significant distance. Ciel has no idea how to fire the thing while dampening its kickback. That's going to take some experimenting.
The experimenting will have to wait, as the machines are on full alert for her now. Vanishing lets her shake them, but taking the launcher has pushed them back to chasing her with the fervor of week one; perhaps more so. Ciel finds herself herded into the city in an attempt to shake the pursuit. By firing the launcher at a building, she is able to create enough debris to seal off the path behind her and ditch that batch of pursuers. More will form though, so she has to keep moving.
While in the city, she looks around for signs of anything that survived assimilation. There appears to be nothing; the bars, theaters, and stores are all blocks of machinery and circuitry, with nothing left over. She angrily fires another burst from the launcher at the building that used to be the first theater she visited. The venting of frustration is worth getting slammed into a wall from the kickback.
More machinery is forming, and Ciel's growing tired from lugging around the heavy launcher. As fun of a toy as it is, she's going to have to get rid of it soon if she wants to escape. She trudges along, evading what she can when she notices some burning wreckage. Interested in seeing who else is lighting stuff on fire, she climbs up to get a better view. Down below is a drow holding out against a particularly fucked up looking robot. There's something vaguely familiar looking about him, but more importantly, he's got serious moves. Ciel still needs to ditch the launcher, and if this guy can hold out against some kind of awful murderbot, why not throw Zerome's direct ire on top of that? "Here, use this!" She calls out, throwing the launcher down to him before getting out of dodge.
From a small distance away, Ciel can see the center of the city. Somewhere in that general area is probably the machinery that really makes Zerome tick. For a moment, she considers heading further in to see about striking a blow at the mechanical bastard. Looking closer, the road further in is crawling with automated tentacles. Oh hell no, Ciel is not about to throw herself into the kind of setting that comes out of a bunch of tentacles getting a hold on a female adventurer. This kind of shit is part of why she had to pass off as a man for a century. Deciding she's done enough for now and relieved that getting rid of the launcher seems to have gotten rid of the negative attention, she opts to hang back and see how things unfold. If it looks like she can strike a kill blow, she might get off her ass to do it. If not, the attack could falter at any time, and she needs to be ready to sneak onto a ship with this Valkyrie uniform and sail on out of here.
The sun shines through a hole in one of these shacks and directly into Ciel's face. Grumbling, she rolls out of what passes for a bed, throws a drape over the hole, and flops back down. The sun rises enough to present the same problem before a half hour has passed, leading the irritable assassin to stay awake this time.
She changes out of pajamas swiped from one of the clothing stores of Esperia and into her assassin clothes. Today will probably be a repeat of every day before it: she'll scrounge up some food by conjuring a grove, run like hell from hungry machines, maybe break something important looking if she gets bored, and try to keep whatever shelter she lands closest to in working order. Ciel sighs. "Fuck, and getting out of SAED was supposed to be the end of things going to shit."
-----------
For a few magical hours, getting out of SAED was an upturn in Ciel's life. Selling out Sybil, Viss, and Fleshbane to Aldebaran was a great way to go. Her only regret was not getting Menek and Mako put away with them. The official discharge came as a wonderful surprise, and she spent the next few hours in a euphoria of drinking, gambling, and general debauchery. And then the Observatory showed up. Try as she might, she can't escape that damnable floating pile of shit in the sky. The Esperian government proved about as useful as one would expect from a state of pacifists, with the military serving as little more than a shiny, expensive road bump before the mechanized forces that were soon pumping out of there.
As Esperia was overwhelmed, Ciel by and large chose not to fight. There was the occasional machine that made the mistake of chasing her or serving as an opportunistic kill, but they were too many in number, and she wasn't about to risk her life to play hero. For the short time between the onset of the attack and the great assimilation, Ciel was primarily looting stores that could no longer enforce security and putting other hapless survivors in her way to throw off the attention of Zerome's machinery.
The first week after everyone else was gone was the most difficult. With no one else to serve as a distraction and the entire landscape having become a part of Zerome, she was constantly on the run, and escaping Zerome's territory was never an option. It took the full breadth of her skills to remain hidden, and no shelter to rest in meant she was pushed to the brink of exhaustion. Ciel had to pick her targets carefully for scrap metal, and the first several impromptu huts were attacked in short order. As time passed, the machines seemed to pursue her less aggressively. They'd still attack on sight and target the occasional, inevitably empty shelter, but she appeared to be turning into an increasingly lower priority. By the time ten days had passed, Ciel was falling into a schedule.
-----------
First things first, Ciel needs to get food for the day. With no food naturally occurring in this mechanical wasteland, she has to rely on her nature magic. She finds a suitably large clearing and sets down an empty jug and a couple. She'll have to move fast, because once she makes a grove, it will be mere seconds before she has the attention of hostile machines. With a little exertion, part of the mechanical ground morphs into a grove, and Ciel quickly gets to work on harvesting berries and stocking up on water. This time around, she was lucky enough to have the spell bring along a small rabbit nuzzling against one of the trees. The assassin wastes no time in scooping it up and breaking its neck, not stopping at any point. Sure enough, the grove is already fading as machines and tentacles emerge from the ground to return this affront to Zerome. Ciel hauls ass out of there, vanishing from sight with bags and jugs in hand.
She stops a fair distance away, short on breath but confident that the machines have given up chase. She has some water and fruit as she gets to work stripping the rabbit and preparing it for cooking. Making a fire will mean having to relocate again, but a rare occasion of having meat is worth the extra effort.
Relocating after eating puts her near another one of her little caves modified into the area with scrap parts. It is completely trashed, telling her that the machines attacked it recently. That also means it will be a while before they come back, so she's fairly safe here. She'll need more scrap to fix it up, so it looks like it's already scavenging o'clock.
The landscape is rife with parts that can broken off and repurposed. In no time, she's found a springy thingamajig, a whirring doohickey, some shiny whatevers and fragile looking rectangles. If she had any idea what any of this machinery actually did, she could probably put it to better use, but for now, it's working as building materials and assorted appliances.
While gathering, Ciel notices an elephant sized robot trudging along with smaller drones flying around it. It looks important. Breaking it could get her a lot of good parts, and double as a middle finger to the robots occupying this area. She takes her time, staying out of site and analyzing it closely, looking for weak points in its structure. After a few minutes of preparation, she springs into action. Arrows fly at each of the larger machine's joints as a few more fly into open circuitry. As it falters, an additional torrent is unloaded just beneath its chin, where its main processor is located. Another rapid rain downs the small drones before they can do anything meaningful. Ciel moves down from her ambush spot to tear the deactivated machines open and harvest whatever doodads she can. Sure enough, the huge machine has larger pieces of robot stuff, all the better for patching up walls. One large bit is hot to the touch, a possible heater or cooking aid. Ciel drags the parts away in another bag on hand for the task, moving before reinforcements can arrive. The beat up shelter is just far enough away to avoid any potential search parties if past patterns hold up. Dropping the bag in front in front of the trashed dwelling, she sets off to spruce up the place.
A few hours pass and the place is once more presentable. The bed is workable, it's reasonably warm, and rain getting in isn't a concern. Ciel lifts up one of the secret trapdoors she built in to see if any of her pillaged clothes survived the last round of ransacking. To her relief, it's all untouched, so she doesn't have to sleep in assassin gear. There's enough water left for a bath and for cleaning the worn clothing. She eventually lays down to repeat this for the next day. And the next. And the next.
Days give way to weeks, which give way to months, seemingly into eternity. Ciel has long since ceased bothering to keep track of time. For one who looked to her ranger talents as a means of furthering her assassination arts, she may ironically be stuck living off the land until her next death. The monotony is broken as a huge fleet of ships appears on the horizon. Ciel frantically scrambles for a scope and runs out to get a closer look. There's a variety of ships looking to be from different factions, floating factories, and a floating island or two. Looks like things might get interesting around here after all.
Ciel continues to lay low as the sky fills with Zerome's forces. A few forward units begin to show up around the transformed ground, pushing towards the city proper. Ciel stays back, observing and using the opportunity to gather unprecedented amounts of material from fallen machines and soldiers alike. A few robots abruptly shut down from arrow related damage as advance units move forward, but the assassin does not go out of her way to offer assistance to the new invaders. Of course she wants Zerome to fall so Esperia can go back to being a livable city, but she's not about to risk her life when countless forces have shown up to do that for her. As she continues to pillage the battlefield, she comes across a dead valkyrie. Oddly enough, there's a faint aura of chaos and evil around the corpse. Upon looking it over, Ciel is able to determine that whatever Norse god the valkyrie served was different from Sybil's. If the aura's any indication, Ciel could pass off as one of these valkyries with a few adjustments to make the uniform small enough for her. She strips the dead valkyrie of her uniform and holds onto it as a possible ticket out of this plane, depending on how things shake out from this attack.
Ciel has just dropped off her ill-gotten gains at her nearest shelter and changed into the Loki valkyrie outfit when she notices that the terrain is changing much more rapidly in response to the attack. Some kind of small battle station has popped up within line of sight. She wants to leave it be, but if she doesn't take care of it and just stays inside, she'll probably get noticed and attacked. She approaches and sees a few almost archon-like machines attending to a tower. At the top of the tower is a humanoid robot holding some kind of hefty weapon. A blast roars from the weapon, sailing into the sky and downing one of the ships. With that, Ciel has been given reason beside her own safety to take down this perch. Holy fucking shit! I want that. Ciel vanishes from sight and slips around the pseudo-archon patrols as a trivial matter. She scampers up the tower, getting behind the rocket launcher robot. A well aimed flurry of arrows slams into its circuitry and sends it careening over the edge of the tower.
Ciel catches the launcher, and is nearly pulled over the ledge with it for her efforts. The damn thing is heavy, slowing her down considerably. She climbs back down, but commandeering the launcher has gotten a lot of unwelcome attention. The archon-esque machines apparently see her now, and are flashing red. Other combat-ready machines are emerging from the ground. Well, now or never, Ciel thinks, deciding to test out the launcher she just got. With a pull of the trigger, a wave of divine energy wipes out all the robots in front of her and throws her back a significant distance. Ciel has no idea how to fire the thing while dampening its kickback. That's going to take some experimenting.
The experimenting will have to wait, as the machines are on full alert for her now. Vanishing lets her shake them, but taking the launcher has pushed them back to chasing her with the fervor of week one; perhaps more so. Ciel finds herself herded into the city in an attempt to shake the pursuit. By firing the launcher at a building, she is able to create enough debris to seal off the path behind her and ditch that batch of pursuers. More will form though, so she has to keep moving.
While in the city, she looks around for signs of anything that survived assimilation. There appears to be nothing; the bars, theaters, and stores are all blocks of machinery and circuitry, with nothing left over. She angrily fires another burst from the launcher at the building that used to be the first theater she visited. The venting of frustration is worth getting slammed into a wall from the kickback.
More machinery is forming, and Ciel's growing tired from lugging around the heavy launcher. As fun of a toy as it is, she's going to have to get rid of it soon if she wants to escape. She trudges along, evading what she can when she notices some burning wreckage. Interested in seeing who else is lighting stuff on fire, she climbs up to get a better view. Down below is a drow holding out against a particularly fucked up looking robot. There's something vaguely familiar looking about him, but more importantly, he's got serious moves. Ciel still needs to ditch the launcher, and if this guy can hold out against some kind of awful murderbot, why not throw Zerome's direct ire on top of that? "Here, use this!" She calls out, throwing the launcher down to him before getting out of dodge.
From a small distance away, Ciel can see the center of the city. Somewhere in that general area is probably the machinery that really makes Zerome tick. For a moment, she considers heading further in to see about striking a blow at the mechanical bastard. Looking closer, the road further in is crawling with automated tentacles. Oh hell no, Ciel is not about to throw herself into the kind of setting that comes out of a bunch of tentacles getting a hold on a female adventurer. This kind of shit is part of why she had to pass off as a man for a century. Deciding she's done enough for now and relieved that getting rid of the launcher seems to have gotten rid of the negative attention, she opts to hang back and see how things unfold. If it looks like she can strike a kill blow, she might get off her ass to do it. If not, the attack could falter at any time, and she needs to be ready to sneak onto a ship with this Valkyrie uniform and sail on out of here.
((I dont think GAF is blocked at work, but I briefly had my internet privileges suspended in 08 because I was on GAF following the election, so now I dont dare go there on the clock. I used to e-mail my posts to myself, but then I got paranoid that theyd be seeing that, too. So now I have this ridiculous process of writing everything out, pasting it into a draft in Gmail, calling it up on my phone, and pasting it into the reply screen. SUCH IS MY DEDICATION.))
((Not great, but whatyougonnado?))
The news of his forces unexpected success causes Menek to frown. The purpose of the attack had not been to invade and conquer but to distract and split Zerone's forces by opening up a second front on the machine god's home soil.
It is not taking the bait. he says to the control room as Zerone's forces continue to overwhelm even the most valorous of the forces attacking it in the skies above Esperia. Even though its home plane and core body are being subsumed by a biological threat spreading like a virus it is not taking the bait. Menek grits his teeth in frustration as the attackers get no closer to the twin pillars of Zerone's plan to subsume the Astral Sea.
The atmosphere in the control room, which was jubilant, at the news of their friends and comrades victories at Origin Point becomes uncertain as they turn back to what their scanners and surveillance devices tell them. The line is buckling... it's barely holding on. Thorton squeaks as he rapidly comprehends what the machines are telling him. He turns to Menek wide eyed What do we do?
The floating factories of the Isle of Enlightenment were practically defenseless against Zerone, everything had been dedicated to the forward armies breaking through to Zerone and at the very least crippling it. The machine god mocked all of their plans by single mindedly focusing on defending this line and ignoring everything else.
Menek is almost about to give the order to flee when Cecil's final message is received. Ten minutes later Zerone's forces are reduced to cinders by the massive blast of divine power.
Is it over? someone asked after a moment of stunned silence.
N... no.. if anything the morphology resonance has spiked. It's finding other ways to defend itself! Thornton said.
But there is an opening. Menek responds and stands up slowly. Look, the unique signature of Fleshbane has not been extinguished, and one of the magic sniper rifles has just activated. Shulmor and the Xenocide Unit at the very least are still alive and fighting. They will need my help.
They? What about us?
You will watch and wait. We have bought some time. If Zerone's forces reconstitute and push forward with no opposition, then use the reserve plane shift spells to flee. Perhaps it will not come to that. If it does then you know the contingency plans. There are other planes, spread the word of what is happening to the Astral Sea, we have evidence enough and perhaps someone elsewhere would find a way to succeed where we have failed. As well there is an other option. Some of you could fall back to Origin Point and aid in the invasion there. Widen that chink in the armor. You are of the Isle of Enlightenment. I have full faith that you all will figure it out.
With that Menek swigs an extract of Age Resistance and, gathering a few of the leftover scrolls and devices, casts Shadow Walk to travel deep into the front lines.
The sensors in the control room have given him an accurate and precise view of where his targets are but his spell runs out far before that dumping him right in the middle of the war torn mechanical landscape. Aldebaraan's stealth device active, Menek moves deeper in avoiding the new defences. If he can coordinate with some of the others still alive that would be good but his main objective are the blasphemous engines Zerone had built to carry out its heretical plan.
Soon the device starts vibrating. Menek understood its working intimately now, it operated by detecting attempts to perceive the wearer, instantly imposing various ingenious counter measures. In a normal situation the device would be able to sustain itself indefinitely on ambient energy generation but the sheer number of different means of detection being thrown at the device from all angles was resulting in energy draining faster than it could recharge.
Magic use would give Menek away so Menek starts running in as fast as he can eschewing magical flight. As the machine starts failing Menek picks out a strategic winding route with fewer defenders and starts to target and attack their sensory weak spots; Stabbing with quick precise rapier strikes before moving on. This allows him to wring as much utility out of the stealth device as possible but also alerts Zerone to something predatory moving in the vicinity.
The machine defenders start converging, first making a beeline towards the latest attack, but then fanning out in a complex pattern as the machine starts to guess at the pattern of the attacks. But Zerone is distracted on multiple fronts and Menek, now with two long lifetimes of accumulated intelligence and experience, outguesses and fients and outwits Zeron's attempts to trap it for quite a long while.
Zerone's empire is vast however and soon the stealth device sputters and dies. Menek is exposed, but not for long as he dips into his collection of wands and scrolls. Using them to confuse and misdirect and camouflage his movements amidst a panoply of conjuration, enchantment, illusion, evocation spells, using divination to enhance his already almost otherworldly ability to outguess the machine god.
But the magic tricks soon start to run out and the biological need to rest start to fatigue Menek. He starts stumbling where he once moved with confidence, the machines start catching up to him and Menek senses that his advantage over them is diminishing; they are only a dozen steps behind him and the advantage is slowly and steadily chipped away and he is being hemmed in by the relentless march and numbers of the machine god's defenses. The landscape itself is shifting to further stymie Menek's progression.
The desire to join forces with the other remnants of SAED is left behind and Menek, sweating now, focuses on the location of the two machines Zerone is using to sap the energies of the gods. The area he is in suddenly turns into a field of snapping bear traps forcing Menek to use a precious scroll of Dimension Door to escape without injury. He is not an armored warrior and it would take only a few hits, perhaps even just one, to incapitate him. Now instead of out witting and fooling Zerone into wild goose chases Menek is brute forcing escapes with destructive spells and dimension hopping. His wands and scroll have almost run out when the mechanical ground suddenly ripples causing Menek to stumble and almost fall. He manages to right himself but it is enough for a flailing tentacle to grab a hold of a wrist. Menek moves fast and out of his robe takes out a globe of the metal eating fungus. It was one of the earliest models that Menek hoped to keep as a keepsake but now he smashes it into the tentacle and runs away wheezing. All of the machines in the vicinity turn away from their hunt for the investigator as they round on the tentacle and the rapidly spreading fungus. Ripping up an entire 20 foot cube of ground and soil the machines morph into jets to hurl themselves and any chance of the fungus spreading far away from Zerone's mechanical boundaries. Menek barely dives out of the way. The machine god has obviously learned a lesson from what is happening on its home plane.
The shift in attention allows Menek, now cut and bleeding, a momentary reprieve as he stumbles away from the ripped metal ground. He is exhausted though and too overwhelmed to offer anything other than token resistance when metal arms reach out, grab, and drag him underground.
****
Menek comes to in a dark room lying unrestrained on a hard metal cot. He gets up holding his throbbing head.
Genescan confirm that you are the individual I met before the madness descended. But the age pattern makes no sense temporally speaking a barely remembered voice says from the corner of the room.
Joshua... The Esperian engineer. I remember your voice still. Menek says focusing on the squat shape.
It has not been very long though rich with incidence. Time is relative however and it appears you have taken advantage of that. Many in the underground curse you and yours. Saying the machine death followed you to us. I have endeavored to point out that the unique energy field of our dimension would have been attractive to a being seeking to mask its activities and the Overminds were an attractive target for the Zero One entity regardless but Joshua shrugs i have never been good with responding to Biologic pattern recognition and hormonal emotion
Underground.... There is a resistance?
Joshua lets out an electronic equivalent of a chuckle. How can you resist when your only weapon is turned against you? We are survivors. No more. A section of our tunnel was destroyed and I came here to see if we were found. Luckily the surface has already reformed leaving us still beneath its notice in all ways. I surmised you were dead and your assault failed when the floating edifice started raining metal corruption on us unimpeded.
Almost Joshua. But we escaped and have been preparing a counter attack
The vibrations of this have been felt Joshua notes.
And they are dampening as we speak but they may have allowed for enough confusion to be sown that we can bring what remains of our power to a vulnerable point. Joshua... Can your tunnels bring me to these coordinates? Menek brings out Thornton's printout and hands it over.
Joshua considers it. The universal language of math is not hard for the engineer to comprehend.
Yes, but that and this Joshua hands Menek a restorative medical gelpack are the only assistance I will be able to provide.
Menek checks his supplies. Only two scrolls were left from his arsenal of extra magic.
Then let us pray it is enough Menek says and the two make their way under the mechanical surface.
The news of his forces unexpected success causes Menek to frown. The purpose of the attack had not been to invade and conquer but to distract and split Zerone's forces by opening up a second front on the machine god's home soil.
It is not taking the bait. he says to the control room as Zerone's forces continue to overwhelm even the most valorous of the forces attacking it in the skies above Esperia. Even though its home plane and core body are being subsumed by a biological threat spreading like a virus it is not taking the bait. Menek grits his teeth in frustration as the attackers get no closer to the twin pillars of Zerone's plan to subsume the Astral Sea.
The atmosphere in the control room, which was jubilant, at the news of their friends and comrades victories at Origin Point becomes uncertain as they turn back to what their scanners and surveillance devices tell them. The line is buckling... it's barely holding on. Thorton squeaks as he rapidly comprehends what the machines are telling him. He turns to Menek wide eyed What do we do?
The floating factories of the Isle of Enlightenment were practically defenseless against Zerone, everything had been dedicated to the forward armies breaking through to Zerone and at the very least crippling it. The machine god mocked all of their plans by single mindedly focusing on defending this line and ignoring everything else.
Menek is almost about to give the order to flee when Cecil's final message is received. Ten minutes later Zerone's forces are reduced to cinders by the massive blast of divine power.
Is it over? someone asked after a moment of stunned silence.
N... no.. if anything the morphology resonance has spiked. It's finding other ways to defend itself! Thornton said.
But there is an opening. Menek responds and stands up slowly. Look, the unique signature of Fleshbane has not been extinguished, and one of the magic sniper rifles has just activated. Shulmor and the Xenocide Unit at the very least are still alive and fighting. They will need my help.
They? What about us?
You will watch and wait. We have bought some time. If Zerone's forces reconstitute and push forward with no opposition, then use the reserve plane shift spells to flee. Perhaps it will not come to that. If it does then you know the contingency plans. There are other planes, spread the word of what is happening to the Astral Sea, we have evidence enough and perhaps someone elsewhere would find a way to succeed where we have failed. As well there is an other option. Some of you could fall back to Origin Point and aid in the invasion there. Widen that chink in the armor. You are of the Isle of Enlightenment. I have full faith that you all will figure it out.
With that Menek swigs an extract of Age Resistance and, gathering a few of the leftover scrolls and devices, casts Shadow Walk to travel deep into the front lines.
The sensors in the control room have given him an accurate and precise view of where his targets are but his spell runs out far before that dumping him right in the middle of the war torn mechanical landscape. Aldebaraan's stealth device active, Menek moves deeper in avoiding the new defences. If he can coordinate with some of the others still alive that would be good but his main objective are the blasphemous engines Zerone had built to carry out its heretical plan.
Soon the device starts vibrating. Menek understood its working intimately now, it operated by detecting attempts to perceive the wearer, instantly imposing various ingenious counter measures. In a normal situation the device would be able to sustain itself indefinitely on ambient energy generation but the sheer number of different means of detection being thrown at the device from all angles was resulting in energy draining faster than it could recharge.
Magic use would give Menek away so Menek starts running in as fast as he can eschewing magical flight. As the machine starts failing Menek picks out a strategic winding route with fewer defenders and starts to target and attack their sensory weak spots; Stabbing with quick precise rapier strikes before moving on. This allows him to wring as much utility out of the stealth device as possible but also alerts Zerone to something predatory moving in the vicinity.
The machine defenders start converging, first making a beeline towards the latest attack, but then fanning out in a complex pattern as the machine starts to guess at the pattern of the attacks. But Zerone is distracted on multiple fronts and Menek, now with two long lifetimes of accumulated intelligence and experience, outguesses and fients and outwits Zeron's attempts to trap it for quite a long while.
Zerone's empire is vast however and soon the stealth device sputters and dies. Menek is exposed, but not for long as he dips into his collection of wands and scrolls. Using them to confuse and misdirect and camouflage his movements amidst a panoply of conjuration, enchantment, illusion, evocation spells, using divination to enhance his already almost otherworldly ability to outguess the machine god.
But the magic tricks soon start to run out and the biological need to rest start to fatigue Menek. He starts stumbling where he once moved with confidence, the machines start catching up to him and Menek senses that his advantage over them is diminishing; they are only a dozen steps behind him and the advantage is slowly and steadily chipped away and he is being hemmed in by the relentless march and numbers of the machine god's defenses. The landscape itself is shifting to further stymie Menek's progression.
The desire to join forces with the other remnants of SAED is left behind and Menek, sweating now, focuses on the location of the two machines Zerone is using to sap the energies of the gods. The area he is in suddenly turns into a field of snapping bear traps forcing Menek to use a precious scroll of Dimension Door to escape without injury. He is not an armored warrior and it would take only a few hits, perhaps even just one, to incapitate him. Now instead of out witting and fooling Zerone into wild goose chases Menek is brute forcing escapes with destructive spells and dimension hopping. His wands and scroll have almost run out when the mechanical ground suddenly ripples causing Menek to stumble and almost fall. He manages to right himself but it is enough for a flailing tentacle to grab a hold of a wrist. Menek moves fast and out of his robe takes out a globe of the metal eating fungus. It was one of the earliest models that Menek hoped to keep as a keepsake but now he smashes it into the tentacle and runs away wheezing. All of the machines in the vicinity turn away from their hunt for the investigator as they round on the tentacle and the rapidly spreading fungus. Ripping up an entire 20 foot cube of ground and soil the machines morph into jets to hurl themselves and any chance of the fungus spreading far away from Zerone's mechanical boundaries. Menek barely dives out of the way. The machine god has obviously learned a lesson from what is happening on its home plane.
The shift in attention allows Menek, now cut and bleeding, a momentary reprieve as he stumbles away from the ripped metal ground. He is exhausted though and too overwhelmed to offer anything other than token resistance when metal arms reach out, grab, and drag him underground.
****
Menek comes to in a dark room lying unrestrained on a hard metal cot. He gets up holding his throbbing head.
Genescan confirm that you are the individual I met before the madness descended. But the age pattern makes no sense temporally speaking a barely remembered voice says from the corner of the room.
Joshua... The Esperian engineer. I remember your voice still. Menek says focusing on the squat shape.
It has not been very long though rich with incidence. Time is relative however and it appears you have taken advantage of that. Many in the underground curse you and yours. Saying the machine death followed you to us. I have endeavored to point out that the unique energy field of our dimension would have been attractive to a being seeking to mask its activities and the Overminds were an attractive target for the Zero One entity regardless but Joshua shrugs i have never been good with responding to Biologic pattern recognition and hormonal emotion
Underground.... There is a resistance?
Joshua lets out an electronic equivalent of a chuckle. How can you resist when your only weapon is turned against you? We are survivors. No more. A section of our tunnel was destroyed and I came here to see if we were found. Luckily the surface has already reformed leaving us still beneath its notice in all ways. I surmised you were dead and your assault failed when the floating edifice started raining metal corruption on us unimpeded.
Almost Joshua. But we escaped and have been preparing a counter attack
The vibrations of this have been felt Joshua notes.
And they are dampening as we speak but they may have allowed for enough confusion to be sown that we can bring what remains of our power to a vulnerable point. Joshua... Can your tunnels bring me to these coordinates? Menek brings out Thornton's printout and hands it over.
Joshua considers it. The universal language of math is not hard for the engineer to comprehend.
Yes, but that and this Joshua hands Menek a restorative medical gelpack are the only assistance I will be able to provide.
Menek checks his supplies. Only two scrolls were left from his arsenal of extra magic.
Then let us pray it is enough Menek says and the two make their way under the mechanical surface.
ThLunarian
Member
((KM, if you were waiting for me then I apologize; I didn't catch that at first))
As Satra and Dewie behold the sight of Baldur's body, no longer made of flesh but of wood, and partially embedded within the remainder of Yggdrasil, they hear a frantic clawing, accompanied by whimpers and snarls coming from below.
A blizzard-white wolf is climbing up the trunk of the tree. It deftly maneuvers around Satra and Dewie and nudges desperately against Baldur's wooden leg.
This goes on for only a few minutes before Lady gives up. Her eyes glassy and her fur quivering, she throws her head up and howls in mourning.
As Satra and Dewie behold the sight of Baldur's body, no longer made of flesh but of wood, and partially embedded within the remainder of Yggdrasil, they hear a frantic clawing, accompanied by whimpers and snarls coming from below.
A blizzard-white wolf is climbing up the trunk of the tree. It deftly maneuvers around Satra and Dewie and nudges desperately against Baldur's wooden leg.
This goes on for only a few minutes before Lady gives up. Her eyes glassy and her fur quivering, she throws her head up and howls in mourning.
KittenMaster
Member
Dewie makes the same cry resembling a pained horn in tandem with the wolf's howl, and begins to tremble in crying.
Satra slowly reels back, his expression stunned. For a moment, his mind is blank, offering no thought. Finally, the reality speaks to him, the chieftain had somehow sacrificed himself to stop the ship... and he is.. part of the god now? He considers pondering a possible solution, but Aldebaran's fate flashes in his mind as if to tell him there is none.
"This... this is my fault." he reasons, "I was the one that talked the god into joining this war, and it's because of my ship that.."
He drops his head and takes a deep breath.
"Dewie, I want you to stay with the village. The ship is stranded so there's no sense coming with me. I owe this island a victory after dragging it into this mess."
If left uninterrupted, Satra will return to the ship and use it to teleport to Shulmor's ship.
Satra slowly reels back, his expression stunned. For a moment, his mind is blank, offering no thought. Finally, the reality speaks to him, the chieftain had somehow sacrificed himself to stop the ship... and he is.. part of the god now? He considers pondering a possible solution, but Aldebaran's fate flashes in his mind as if to tell him there is none.
"This... this is my fault." he reasons, "I was the one that talked the god into joining this war, and it's because of my ship that.."
He drops his head and takes a deep breath.
"Dewie, I want you to stay with the village. The ship is stranded so there's no sense coming with me. I owe this island a victory after dragging it into this mess."
If left uninterrupted, Satra will return to the ship and use it to teleport to Shulmor's ship.
ThLunarian
Member
Esperia only vaguely resembles its former self. The shape of the skyline is similar (though more aesthetically pleasing), but rather than being made of separate structures it is all one continuous mass of machinery.
It is clear to anyone with even a passing understanding of computers that, if Zerome could be said to have a central core more important than all others, this is that core. The network is vast - moreso than even Fleshbane could have imagined to be possible. Googols of separate processing units and interconnecting pathways, independent in their own right and yet joined together, all in the service of optimizing the performance of the Machine God.
The separate pieces of the attack force are each effective in their own right: Viss's armies of beasts, bolstered by the fortifying magicks of the Tree God, have lain waste to untold hordes of metallic infantry. The clockwork wizards of Brigh, shielded from the effects of the Divinity Dissolution Engine, have turned legions of former enemies into allies. The unified armies of the Nine Hells and Asgard have crippled Zerome's defense systems. The Isle of Enlightenment's efforts to nullify the Divinity Dissolution Engine have not fully succeeded, but they have certainly slowed it down.
And yet, after all that - after executing that final, monumental push to the heart of things, not a single soul can be said to feel confident that victory is inevitable. Such is the looming threat of a machine-god, powered by the siphoned energies of dozens of Greater Gods, each formidable in their own right.
One tower-like protrusion rises above the rest of what was once known as Esperia. The air around it distorts as a pulse of thoroughly processed and optimized divine energy radiates outward, and a swath of Viss's beasts a mile wide is snuffed out.
Another pulse, this one green, directs itself toward Yggdrasil's island, and half the landmass crumbles to dust, the rest only barely holding together by the tree's sheer force of will.
All this, before the armies are within a mile of the 'city.'
We will be as one, a voice speaks into your head.
You begin to feel another presence trying to insert itself directly into your mind. There is a queer pulling sensation, as your consciousness is torn away from you.
You don't feel your body anymore. All around you is nothingness....
...But only for a moment.
Soon a torrent of consciousness envelops you - not your own consciousness, but someone else's. A LOT of someone elses'.
Your mind struggles to make sense of this feeling. It needs to provide sensory data in a way that you can comprehend.
Gradually, you begin to perceive things. Sight, sounds, and touch.
Your vision returns to you.
You are not alone.
You stand among the other members of SAED - all of them save for one, for Sybil was lucky enough to be extinguished before the Great Assimilation could happen. Ozzan'gac is a sickly shade of gray and is unresponsive, but the others - Mako and Ciel included - at least have color to them.
All of you are in a labyrinth - an infinite labyrinth in all directions. The walls are gray, much like Ozzan'gac.
It is not until you are there for some time before you realize that the walls are made up of people.
Not just people. Animals, machines, places, information - all of it is amalgamated and mashed together, to create the walls of this place.
You feel the color - your individuality - constantly under assault by forces unseen even in this creation of your consciousness. It is a very gradual and painless process, but you sense that, in time, you will be as gray and colorless as the walls of this place.
Ozzan'gac melts into the floor and becomes one with the machine, as if for illustrative effect.
"Well," says Mako. "I wish we had reunited under better circumstances. Do any of you happen to know a way out of here?"
It is clear to anyone with even a passing understanding of computers that, if Zerome could be said to have a central core more important than all others, this is that core. The network is vast - moreso than even Fleshbane could have imagined to be possible. Googols of separate processing units and interconnecting pathways, independent in their own right and yet joined together, all in the service of optimizing the performance of the Machine God.
The separate pieces of the attack force are each effective in their own right: Viss's armies of beasts, bolstered by the fortifying magicks of the Tree God, have lain waste to untold hordes of metallic infantry. The clockwork wizards of Brigh, shielded from the effects of the Divinity Dissolution Engine, have turned legions of former enemies into allies. The unified armies of the Nine Hells and Asgard have crippled Zerome's defense systems. The Isle of Enlightenment's efforts to nullify the Divinity Dissolution Engine have not fully succeeded, but they have certainly slowed it down.
And yet, after all that - after executing that final, monumental push to the heart of things, not a single soul can be said to feel confident that victory is inevitable. Such is the looming threat of a machine-god, powered by the siphoned energies of dozens of Greater Gods, each formidable in their own right.
One tower-like protrusion rises above the rest of what was once known as Esperia. The air around it distorts as a pulse of thoroughly processed and optimized divine energy radiates outward, and a swath of Viss's beasts a mile wide is snuffed out.
Another pulse, this one green, directs itself toward Yggdrasil's island, and half the landmass crumbles to dust, the rest only barely holding together by the tree's sheer force of will.
All this, before the armies are within a mile of the 'city.'
We will be as one, a voice speaks into your head.
You begin to feel another presence trying to insert itself directly into your mind. There is a queer pulling sensation, as your consciousness is torn away from you.
You don't feel your body anymore. All around you is nothingness....
...But only for a moment.
Soon a torrent of consciousness envelops you - not your own consciousness, but someone else's. A LOT of someone elses'.
Your mind struggles to make sense of this feeling. It needs to provide sensory data in a way that you can comprehend.
Gradually, you begin to perceive things. Sight, sounds, and touch.
Your vision returns to you.
You are not alone.
You stand among the other members of SAED - all of them save for one, for Sybil was lucky enough to be extinguished before the Great Assimilation could happen. Ozzan'gac is a sickly shade of gray and is unresponsive, but the others - Mako and Ciel included - at least have color to them.
All of you are in a labyrinth - an infinite labyrinth in all directions. The walls are gray, much like Ozzan'gac.
It is not until you are there for some time before you realize that the walls are made up of people.
Not just people. Animals, machines, places, information - all of it is amalgamated and mashed together, to create the walls of this place.
You feel the color - your individuality - constantly under assault by forces unseen even in this creation of your consciousness. It is a very gradual and painless process, but you sense that, in time, you will be as gray and colorless as the walls of this place.
Ozzan'gac melts into the floor and becomes one with the machine, as if for illustrative effect.
"Well," says Mako. "I wish we had reunited under better circumstances. Do any of you happen to know a way out of here?"