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Two if by Sea (Last Chance Raid)

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Character Name: Khakina Khatun

Affiliation: Legion of Doom / The Black Spear cartel

Location/Objective: Going commando with @Bureku, releasing prisoners

Allies: @Dredge

Enemies: (Open) 


19 hours ago, Bureku said:

"You still with me Khaki? If so I'm gonna breach one of these walls so we can catch up a bit faster. Stay back for a second."

At Break's response, Khaki gave a quick nod before hiding behind Break. The droid may have taken some damage but she figured he can still keep on going. But sooner or later, Khaki may have to give the droid some good ol' lever and wrench-work just to repair the dents and breaks in Break's armor. Unlike Break, she was wearing her personal shiny black catsuit, one she had been preparing to use for a while now. The skintight leather provided her with substantial protection as well accentuate the rather lacking curves her diminutive figure needed. A little over 4 feet, Khaki would have been easily mistaken for a lost child who had been separated from her parents as they attempt to flee the region in fear of the upcoming invasion. Unfortunately for her, the Terran defenders had already identified her as an enemy and countless projectiles had been fired at her. Her catsuit may have helped her from serious damage by deflecting most of the enemy projectiles, but inside her suit multiple of bruises and welts have painfully appeared. The technology for her suit was faulty at best, but she can bear the pain.

"Warning. Multiple organic signatures are displaying hostile action. Imitation of proper response is recommended."

Body aching, she nodded to Khaks' comment as she whipped her pair of spellfondled pistols from the holsters attached to either sides sides of her thighs and began shooting back at the Terran defenders. While both sides settled into the exciting mechanics of ranged combat mainly cover-shoot-cover, Khaki could not help but mentally list out her own gear. She had her folding spellfondled sniper rifle strapped to her back, a pair of combat knives strapped to the sides of her legs, her utility belt filled with twenty blank spell grenade stones and hiding inside her shadow was her personalized polymorphing homunculus penguin named Specky which shares striking similarity but totally different to that 'wenk'-ing black object Break had noticed earlier during his descent-

PSSSSHHHHHHH

Khaki's thoughts were cut off as the sudden noise that resembled an opening safe. As her gaze scanned the surrounding, it quickly fell on the unnecessarily huge drop pod near a few meters from their position. It was already opening and its contents would surprise anyone.

Inside was an even smaller girl wearing the same catsuit as Khaki, her small stature massively contrasting the unnecessarily large pod as she lay there in the center of it curled up in deep sleep, her snoring and the sound from sucking her thumb can be heard over the din of gunfire-

@Bureku

Edited by Zashiii

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Her dragon obeyed her every command now as she took direct control. Every cell within it's degraded form, an extension of her own will. They breathed as one as her tattoos blossomed throughout the dragon' hide and it's blunted sweeped the ground in a show of intimidation as she had never felt so badass in her life. Sbe was finally taking charge of the shitty hand life had dealt her, but she couldn't deny the dread she felt.

She had only gained her grotesque materials through graverobbing; she hadn't actually killed anyone before and it made her sick to her stomach. She needed to focus. If she fucked this up then she would have nothing all over again

She'd be alone again.

That thought alone drove her to fight as Luthrim breathed a terrible green flame around him. Perestroika' head stirring within his ribcage as she heard sas blurred movement. Who was that?...carrying a sword? Hah! What could a sword do? What a nerd!

The dragon' head lowering to face him before a surprising voice rang out from it's maw. Luthrim' eyes mimicking her own molted green irises "Oh vell! Salutations!' The dragon spoke with an emotive face. It seemed...pleased? "I am Perestroika! Du Bist? Ten...kai? Wundabar!" The dragon barked out clapping its claws together

Luthrim leaning down onto his haunches and growling a challenge at Tenkai before charging at him without any further pleasantries. Tenkai' blade near inches from slicing this beast in twain before it...split on it's own. Tenkai seeing the dreadlocked girl within. The necromancer firing several rounds at him from her side arm as a wave of dragon flesh split between him. 

Luthrim connecting back together behind him as a large blunted tail aimed to crash upon his opponent harshly. 

@Tenkai Matsumoto

Edited by FirePenguinDiscoPanda

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Character Name: Order Custode Seekers (Totally Mauveshirts)

Affiliation: The Order of Force Majeure

Location/Objective: Approaching the prison of Last Chance

Allies: Terrenus Military Forces, @Tenkai Matsumoto (Defenders)

Enemies@Dredge @Bureku (Raiders)

 

The Seekers had been split up. Some responded to the prison on Tenkai's orders. Moving in teams of two, they would be able to make their way to the prison relatively quickly compared to larger masses of soldiery, and scaled the walls from the outside with their grappling hooks and climbing gear. Silently, they would reoccupy the guard towers where they could, pushing aside the dead bodies of former occupants, and take stock of the enemy within the prison. Two Seekers were lost when the walls they were scaling either crumbled, or shook in the wake of explosions and caused them to slip. In their speed they were not able to set up adequate safeguards, and the fall was a long way down.

There were much too few of the Seekers to do any widespread harm to the enemy force within the prison, as they were outnumbered at the very least 8 to 1, if not much more (not including any prisoners the Legion might've released), but these soldiers fought more cunningly than most. Leveling their crossbows, bows, and rifles at the enemy, they would pick out the enemy officers if they could, so helpfully marked for them by their red stripes and insignias. They would attempt to fell these officers with well-placed shots, and then they would make to relocate, to cause as much confusion and panic within the enemy forces as they could.

The guard towers should have been cleared! Who's giving the orders now? What do we do?! Those were the questions the Seekers sought to incite within the Legion's commandos. Whether they were successful remained to be seen, but all would feel the unseen hand of death from above.

Edited by Fierach

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Character Name: James Eredas

Affiliation: The Order of Force Majeure

Location/Objective: Beach/First Line of Defense

Allies: (Defenders)

Enemies:  @Grubbistch  (Raiders)

---

The Terrenus military fought men.

The Custodes and Enforcers fought monsters.

The Knights of the Order of Force Majeure fought the apocalypse.

Dark eyes glared at Feuer Krieger when the otherworldly sword materialized itself from midair, wrought from a phantom plane of existence, imbued with the powers of an evil deity. The Daemonslayer had already entered his battle-ready state, and feeling the dark powers gather in his foe filled him with fury and righteous strength. The contempt on James's face solidified itself into absolute scorn. He originally saw Feurerkönig as somebody worth killing or being killed by, a true blood knight. He was wrong. "Is that so?" he snarled, his voice now laced with a measure of dark displeasure. Here he had thought this foe was a grand challenge, worthy on his own merits. Now, that he was closer, he could tell now that much was borrowed, from the war around them, and from his patron god, the Slayer’s honed sixth sense allowing him to take the measure of his opponent in ways a visual glance could not.

For those who borrowed power, contempt.

Contempt was his armor.

For which made them pretenders, disgust.

Disgust was his shield.

For the effrontery to true bloodshed, hatred.

Hatred was his sword.

 

The Daemonslayer placed his mask upon his face, before gripping his nodachi two-handed (left hand above the right on the hilt) and meeting his charging opponent. The bone-white mask seemed blurry to look at directly, until it quite clearly displayed itself as that of a ghostly demon, toothed maw open in mirth, eyes wide and bloody streaks stretching out to the sides. With both hands on Amaterasu, James brought his sword up in a circular, defensive arc, first parrying the slash of Feurerkönig’s bastard sword, and whilst stepping back in the face of the dark knight's rush, knocking down the thrust from the enchanted black longsword, and striking the free-floating weapon into the sand. James was skillfully using the length of his weapon to help maintain spacing, taking the time to assess his rage-filled foe's movements, abilities, and wargear, looking for weaknesses while gathering his own power.

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"WEAK!" he spat. Was it merely an attempt to goad the enemy, or James’s true feelings?

Spoiler

Harlequin's Mask

A strange-looking Venetian mask. Although the mask only covers half the wielder's face, any onlooker is strangely unable to discern the real face of the person wearing the Harlequin's Mask. Accounts of the person's description always seem to vary. The mask itself is extremely tough, made out of some sort of metal, and only the wielder can willingly remove it, with a single word of power. The mask seems to project some sort of optical illusion or hologram that can disguise the wearer's face, and reacts to the wielder's thoughts at will.

Upgrade: Solitaire's Mask:

After mastering the Chaos within himself, James was visited by an Eldar Solitaire, who invited him to a nearby show put on by an Harlequin Troupe. The enigmatic aliens displayed for James and all other attendees their greatest work, the Dance without End, telling of the Fall of the Eldar. Taking away the gift of knowledge from the encounter, James found his mask modified by the Solitaire. When wearing the mask, James can now project the psychic signature, or non-signature as it may happen, of a Blank. Also known as an Untouchable, a Blank is a being who possesses the Pariah gene expressed in recessive form. It blots out James's presence in the Warp, leaving him essentially soulless, and anathema to creatures and daemons born of the Warp. The emulation of a Blank also causes James to naturally radiate a sense of unnatural "wrongness" that makes other living, intelligent creatures extremely uncomfortable and uneasy in their presence

Spoiler

Nodachi "Amaterasu":

An ōdachi, meaning "great big sword", was a type of long Japanese sword. The term nodachi, or "field sword", which refers to a different type of sword, is often mistakenly used in place of ōdachi. Although the two types of swords are often similar, odachi are generally more ceremonial, while nodachi are made mainly for battle.

The nodachi that James wields, is named Amaterasu, after the Japanese Goddess of the Sun. The weapon was originally a zweihander named Hellfire, container of the dark Etifini fire God named Halcyanos. After the deity was defeated by James, he took the weapon back to his clan and had it reforged as a magnificent nodachi.

At an overall length of 66 inches with a 50 inch blade, 16 inch hilt, the nodachi is a massive weapon, almost as long as James is tall, and the gentle 3 inch curve on the blade enhances the cutting power of the blade, while still keeping stabs and thrusts viable. The blade itself sports an intricate lotus pattern, creating an beautiful, but deadly weapon, crafted for war in mind. The round tsuka, or hand guard, and the handle, while slightly decorated, are otherwise basic and meant for intensive use in battle.

The actual strength of the blade however, lies in its artifact origins. Reforged from the former weapon of a Fire God, the nodachi is naturally aligned toward fire entities, even with the original owner dead. To top it off, the artisans of the Eredas clan master-crafted the weapon in the heat of the clan's own sacred flames, further purifying and imbuing the sword with the ability to channel the Eredas's supernatural energy.

The nodachi is sharp and highly resistant to damage of any kind. The very nature of the sword itself allows James to cut through magic and other sorts of supernatural attacks with relative ease, while also allowing him to channel his formidable sacred fire through the blade to enhance power and reinforce the weapon itself. Handling is superb, and balanced specifically for James. He often wields it without a scabbard, not really having to worry about maintenance, and preferring to be able to wield the weapon without having to draw it from a sheathe. James sometimes uses consecrated white wrapping cloth to wrap the blade when not in use

 

Edited by Fierach

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Character Name: Shanti
Affiliation: Good Guys.
Location/Objective: 
Create a protective barrier in a specific area of the city to protect innocents.
↳ ✘∎∎∎
Allies: --
Enemies: The Bad Guys.


BV9Moud.png Shanti flinched, not knowing what had dropped in the middle of the city, but not caring enough to fully investigate. All the commotion around her had gone rather unnoticed as she helped the frightened to their sanctuary. She had gone from building to building, gathering them all underneath her protective wing before pushing them towards the other end of the city. There was too much at stake to truly concentrate on the abnormal dangers presented to her; she won't allow herself to be so easily distracted by the dramatic, perverse ways of the enemy leaking through the walls. 

The final group ran to safety, and in her heart, she knew there were so many more that were desperately trying to find shelter, but now they've been backed into an impossibly tight corner. Saving everyone had been a heroic thought that pushed her even to attempt to do any of this, yet the weight of such a responsibility made the bitterness of reality rise in her throat. Some are better than none. A handful is better than emptiness, and she will not fail the few she has sheltered thus far.

The commotion from earlier had risen and then fallen like the waves of the sea. The operations inside the city worked to protect what they could while asserting themselves before these intruders. Unfortunately, it did not ask; it would appear that a dragon has taken the situation into its own hands and a man was confronting it. The two were locked into their song and dance from what she could see; they were far away from her, but they could get closer the more the fight grew. 

A bright light emitted from the orb in her staff, telling her that the crystals have been placed and were ready to be initiated. The gems and orb come from the same material, an old bit of gemstone used as amplifiers for mages who'd instead not use blood magic or any other means. Crystals were more natural to use and less compromising, also somewhat faster when you're in a pinch, which she is. Enchantments are easy little things, like building barriers of protection or giving someone a boost to their abilities, but the most challenging part can be evolving such things without overexerting yourself. 

Shanti inhaled deep, relaxing her nerves and allowing the warmth of her magic overcome her slowly. The glow to her staff steadily grew, as would the crystals surrounding the small block where the saved citizens are currently. 

 

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Character: Mayumi Takamori

Affiliation: @Dredge 's group?

Allies: @Zashiii

Location: beach, wall

Enemies: @amenities

—-----------------------------------——

In the blood ocean the shallows had become, two heads popped out. First was the head of Enfrid, having been protected by Mayumi's body. The fall had left Mayumi with a few broken ribs, but as her hollow eyes surfaced out of the blood, her eyes were the same. Chunks of body and whole limbs and faces were every where around her. A salted, callus soup that she instinctively fed on. As she slowly swam through the muck and onto the shore, she was gaining power. The limbs and viceral fluid were so fresh and packed with agonized energy that those with the sense of it could detect a great power rising from the battle's sacrifice. Visually, they would only see a lost looking little girl desperately swimming in the Gorey shallows that seemed to get cleaned and cleaner as she filter fed. Though, no one could really pick her out in the chaos amoungst the other bobbing limbs that seemed to disappear as she grew near to them. 

The small elf's ribs had since healed back up. Salt water was flowing out of her mouth in great amounts as the sea water was filtered out through her body. The shallows seemed all that much cleaner, and Mayumi was all that much powerful. The black ichor that had splattered all over the front line beach front opposition was still eating away at them. Looking farther back, the small elf's head cocked grotesquely to the side with a crack as she stood up next to the landed ghost ship. She was so tiny, only five feet and soaked to the bone. Water so pure flowed out of her mouth as she watched people firing at the beach from the wall. 

Tendrils slid out from behind her and shaped out, calculated in the strength it would require to launch there. A thick thump of sand sounded below the firing of artillery around her and she was flying through the air over towards the wall. Tendrils whipped to her front and formed a shell around her as she crashed into the wall, right into a ballistic firing canon that was knocked off balance by her landing.

Men on the wall screamed in surprise as she landed, before her tendrils whipped out in a frenzy, not guided consciously but truly free to seek out those who still retained life and sought to end it. Any crack in the armor would be found, so many tactics were being used. One man had his head crushed in as a thickened tendril bludgeoned him to death. A woman in plate armor and helmet soon found that there was still an entrance in her visor as the soft flesh of her eyes were popped like peas as the tendrils found their way into her brain. Some on the wall took immediate notice and went to turn their guns on her, but Mayumi knew about guns now, and her tendrils would whip them right out of their hands, or if their grips were strong they would be flung right off the wall.  

The sheer speed and range of the carnage was taking a drain of energy rather vast, but thanks to the bounty of the ocean, she would have energy and strength to spare. Hollow eyes and a mouth still pouring with salt water gave no mercy or care to the people on the wall. 

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Character Name: Jinsoku Hayabusa

Affiliation: The Order of Force Majeure

Location/Objective: Beach/First line of defense

Allies: @Fierach @Tenkai Matsumoto @amenities (Defenders)

Enemies: @Dredge @Grubbistch @Frostbinder (Raiders)

Jinsoku clenched his jaw and grunted in frustration as their fists collided instead of punching the enemies helmet in on his face as he had hoped. Unlike his opponent that flew back several feet, Jinsoku descended from his lunge with bent, unlocked knees. His unnaturally strong legs flexed in protest of the momentum carrying him from his opponent, in which his feet slid/dug into the sand for a few feet before he stopped. With a certain sense of lackluster considering the full armor and the sandy terrain, charging him as such a distance made it easier for Jinsoku to read Ochigo's bodily moment to telegraph a potential attack pattern. Judging the opponent's arms to moving perhaps in distraction to the true attack, Jinsoku banked that the shifting of the larger warriors weight was indicative more of a kick of some sort, perhaps a knee attack specifically. As he became certain, the enemy's hand were about to clap down on his shoulder, giving him the final chance to react in the best possible manner. What happened next was perhaps the last thing his opponent would consider he might do. He moved into the attack!

"KIAI!!!"

Curling into the attack to with a scream, hardening his abs at precisely the moment of impact, he sparred himself of winding by pushing the air forcibly from his lungs prior to impact and/or broken ribs. Certainly he fractured a couple of them by his guess, and he'd have some deep tissue bruising, though the reassuring clank of metal on metal was also reassuring. Simultaneously, Jinsoku's armed arm the offending knee as a means of maintaining it's position off of the ground with his unarmored fist tucked beneath his hunched core. Jinsoku's slightly bent knees suddenly extended as his upper body straightened in one fluid motion, his left fist soaring up from beneath him with the back of his fist a mere inch from the chest plate. Executing a vicious uppercut, his hand still hummed with that invisible force. If the enemy didn't feel it prior, perhaps by now the little hairs on the back of their neck were standing on end, if they had any. If or when the uppercut connected with the enemy's chin, he would feel the concussive burst escape it's contained field within his fist. The explosive force generated flowed in the motion of the delivering punch, in this case, upwards. Begrudgingly, he'd relinquish his hold on the leg as his simply wouldn't be able to grapple Ochigo against 2500 pounds of force. However, if his attack failed to hit, his hold would remain until he was otherwise forced to let go. If his regular punch was able to knock the opponent several feet away, then he could only imagine the results of this much more powerful strike striking him in the chin. 

Spoiler

+.] [Active] - Crashing Thunder: Jinsoku can charge a single limb at a time to deliver a forceful concussive blow that would measure about 2500 pounds of force. The force itself discharges upon the limb impacting another solid surface.

 

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Character Name: Feurerkönig

Affiliation: Legion of Doom

Location/Objective: Beach

Allies: Legion of Doom

Enemies: @Fierach

Strength, power, disgust? Yes, the mortal was disgusted with him, for everything that he was and all that gave him strength. It was those that were jealous of another's strength who were weakest of all, a fact he knew to be true for this one. What was truly the difference between the two?

A mask versus the power to draw strength from the carnage around oneself?

A sword versus the connection between a servant and his master?

No, the differences were much starker, much more defined than simple connections of borrowed power. The difference between them was that Feurerkönig was willing to go farther for power, farther for what he desired and dreamed of. In his dreams he envisions a world of peace, of order, of tranquility, a world without suffering or pain. His mission was far more noble than what this pretender believed himself to be. When he was laid dead upon the ground, he would see the error in his ideals, and know that his opponent was in the right.

During the moments of the parry, another sword appeared, blazing in fury as it circled the combatants as the first conjured weapon rose into the air. Igniting like it's twins, there were now three blades against the master knight, waiting to pierce his hide until dead. Now did he understand what he was up against? He was no mere monster, nor was he just a worthless mortal combatant, but so much more than either. The power he wielded was to degrees one could not fathom, it was something akin to that of a god, yet he was greater than a god. Instead of lounging in the heavens or scheming in hell, he was here, he was real, and he was going to do something about this world.

Pressing the attack meant not allowing James the opportunity to recover. Unlike a creature of flesh and blood, Feurerkönig did not need to breath, his body did not ache from constant use, his endurance never faltered. For a thousand years he could fight on and never tire. Could this one say the same? Unfortunately he did not have the time to wait him out, but he did have the means to keep the knight on the defensive.

Charging forward once more, Feurerkönig gave a thrust towards the knight's midsection while the two enchanted swords moved into position. The first sword took a swipe to James's knees from the back, while the second launched a fiery thrust into the knight's right side. Such attacks spelled only death for the unprepared, but would it be enough to stop the fool in his tracks? Each of these attacks were filled with the unending rage which filled every part of Feurerkönig's being. Every opponent he had faced underestimated the power of the rage he carried within, but not after this day, not after they see what he does to their precious Master Knight.

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Character name: Maira Pembroke

Affiliation: Terrenus Military

Location/Objective: On the wall by the beach

Allies: The home team

Enemies: @PurplePanda

 

"Let's secure this wall. Move faster!" Maira yelled. Men and women in powersuits worked far from Mayumi at the base of the wall. Dwarves worked quickly with metal as though it were there own to command. She had to help the people on the wall and she had to do it the only way she knew how. What she didn't take into account was that the ocean was fueling her in the same way that it fueled her target. The only exception was that Maira did not need to consume people. As shadow swirled around her, beckoning to be ordered, she just tilted her head. Golems replaced a few of the soldiers being attacked. It was too late for the ones closest to Mayumi. The inky creatures formed from where Maira stood. There was no greeting. There were no pleasantries.

The golems on the ground moved to secure the wall as well. These shadowy golems all seemed to resemble a few of the people that were fighting here, as well. The Colonel looked over at Mayumi. All of the golems that were in the area looked at Mayumi with their own empty, unknowing eyes. More shadow surrounded her body, swirling in a pool at her feet. She simply pointed, forming her fingers into a gun. Her jaw clenched as the shadow golems on the wall readied to attack. The Colonel prepared for something like this in Weland. Now this was her test run at stopping invaders in another city before she took on Weland. Tendrils of inky shadow shot out towards Mayumi's own greedy tendrils that sought to kill soldiers.

It would seem that the wall was going to be left in disrepair. The repairs were quick and quite temporary. The wall was trapped once again, disguised as something else entirely. "Congratulations on making it to the wall. Now, leave." These were the first words she had spoken. On the other side of the wall stood Last Chance, under attack, but really? What other horrors were lying in Last Chance? It was like an expertly crafted puzzle. The young Colonel with violet hair and tri-color eyes set the golems on the wall upon Mayumi. The shadows moved quickly, flickering into and out of existence as they moved closer to their target. At first, their movements were disorganized, all coming together to surround her and engulf her.

Her lens in her eye prepared a readout on Mayumi, giving her pictures that linked her to Dredge. The eye didn't have a name for this other small elf. "Watch my back." She whispered softly. Judical answered her. "I have your back, Colonel."

The wall was being held by small mechs. These tiny mechs formed what just looked like steel. The dwarves moved away from anywhere that was damaged. With good reason. Those tiny mechs were ruthless and they were able to be made rather quickly. For some reason, when it seemed like there were enough, there were not. And somehow they kept multiplying. Larger golems were hidden, waiting for some fool to stumble upon the piles of metal, rubble, garbage, and even bones.

She did not approach Mayumi. In fact, she expected Mayumi to be able to free herself easily. Maira prepared to defend. The soldiers that hadn't been attacked retreated quickly to behind Maira. They aimed their guns, ready to fire. "Your guns will do nothing."

It's my turn to feed. And how easy it is to slide over into the territory of the yokai!

 

 

 

 

 

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Team: Terrenus

Not team: @Dredge @roboblu @PurplePanda Legion of Doom

 

Last Chance had become a bustling ecosystem of magic and munitions fire in recent hours. To some, it was dazzling and beautiful. And not just the bad guys. Many felt they were bred for this, but some of them would come out toast. The chrysali of great and fatal defensive and offensive measures blossomed all around the city as protective barriers rippled with the force of enemy attacks and blood flew with such volume it seemed it could paint the very air.

The shot Michael had fired earlier would ping off of Dredge’s psychic barrier. The second shot he had fired was powerful enough to pierce the psychic barrier, but weak enough afterward that it zinged off of Dredge's shoulder plate. Just before Michael lowered his hand to fire a third time, he and his officers spotted something flying above head that sprayed black ooze with astounding range out over his men. The black amalgam landed on their psychic barrier, but quickly ensued with a steaming that proved corrosive to the magical shield. It came through in drops and then gobs before psychics were able to push the mess onto the ground before their forces. Before it had even happened, medical squads stood in wait to deploy autonomously upon their comrades. The hundred-or-so affected by the black stuff began wildly lashing out and firing at their compatriots. It would take at least 2 more men to hold them down while a third practiced purification magic to bring them back to sanity.

The Bastion gazed unblinkingly into the eye of the Legion— its dark star— as the war winds and chaos whipped around him. Evanjalin’s was of a more comparable aura to Dredge’s than the masses around them, and he saw the fingers of her power sowing conflict within that of his men’s. It wasn’t visible at first, but the very beginnings of cooling had begun to exert themselves on the fringes of the hot sands where Dredge and Evanjalin walked. Michael bit the glove off his right hand as Dredge knelt to put his hands in the sand.

“Guess we gotta give ‘em something to pay attention to,” he said to himself. The two officers at his back left and back right who disseminated his commands leaned in to hear him, but were promptly blown back by his thunderous roar as he now addressed his men. “Geomancers!”

Red light pulsed in the geomancers’ arms around Michael, as well as in his own hand, but that which filled his hand was a vehement and precise violence. He took aim at Dredge’s vicinity, mines raising upward of the dark one’s volition. Without hesitation when the explosives became visible, the official to Michael’s left clicked a button. All 70 of the mines in the field exploded via remote detonation and obscured the area with smoke. It was an alternate method for detonation as well as a fail safe officers were primarily taught to use in the event of lost devices and enemy stealth squads.

Last Chance quaked with the explosion of all the mines at once; then it continued quaking for another reason. Swells of hot earth rose up through the smoke in near molten slabs from the area pyromancers had been heating.

Just before Terran front lines were shielded by the hefting wall, a coruscating blast of crimson gnarled the landscape between Michael and not Dredge, but Evanjelin. Traces of white spiraled throughout as it javelined through the space between them. This blast irradiated two soldiers into a crisp on its way, unheeding to limbs or torsos or mere psychic barriers. It traveled like a shot from a high-powered rifle and would rip off her left shoulder and some torso at this trajectory, before the sands even had time to destroy her.

The targeted Evanjelin had neutralized some of the earth around herself and her current liege, but it only served to mitigate the effects of walking into the spell head-on— the slab of earth that flipped forth rained upon them. An awe-inspiring quantity of earth heaved itself up like a gate to the ocean, battering down on the central swell of Dredge’s army. More than a thousand tons of super-heated sand crushed down on entire swaths of the Legion army, as the slab was made more than just to flip over, but compress downward with massively fatal pressure. In minutes, the sands that frothed with heat would crystallize into a layer of diamond that held its captives ten feet under.

Meanwhile as the rumbling began to settle, the black ooze that had assaulted his men was coming under control; either being moved to the sands that had been flipped on Legion forces or dropping them on the ground there after it flipped. Just as much of a threat as it had been to them, it would now be to their enemies as it simmered between them. Soldiers who had been affected by its madness were being put to sleep and taken from the battlefield to be dealt with in the farther reaches of Last Chance.

“Left and right battalions continue fire. Continue shelling landing crafts and airborne enemies until they are ash. Focus healers from the center ranks on restoring the minimally injured while we have time.” One of the two officers ran off. “Report on the garrison,” said the boy seasoned by war to the other officer as the earth’s vibrations settled. He glanced at his glove in the dirt with his human eye, rubbing his bare forefinger and thumb together behind his back. The cool blessed wood of the Tenchi-Ken Peachy Keen rested against his wrist reassuringly.

“200 immobilized by aerial attack. 73 by gunfire. The city is unknown,” rattled off the officer. “There are threats at the prison and the left artillery wall though,” he went on, “but we’ve got men- er, women- on it.”

---

Somewhere back on the shoreline, a little imp skittered out of one of the waterborne drop ships. He looked dizzy- drunk, in fact. But he wasn’t. He had “passed out from seasickness” and hidden while the Legion troops disembarked.

Barrett stumbled this way and that until he was sure the battle was on its way, before KABOOM WHOOSH — the entire beach shook as unpleasantly warm sand rolled out from a spot where something big had just happened but Barrett had missed it. Like, damn. His ears were ringing. The clouds of sand billowing up into the sky were enough that he couldn’t see Terran forces, but he did see soldiers here and there closer to him who were along the outline of the great hot square and looked intensely shell shocked.

“Damn,” he said, taking out his phone and sending another text. As he took the phone out, his hand jostled a little circular Fauxton receiver, but he nudged it to the side for the phone.

“im here baby!”

Edited by amenities

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The cyborg and his team had entered the prison. The walls eruption signaling the remaining locusts. More were coming. What was the directive here? Marigold watched through the illuminated screens surrounding his rigid form. He was confident...but nervous.

These were powerful forces and there numbers were to great even for this budding Artificial Intelligence. It was time for something different "Plan B Nym. It's time" he said. His eyes flickering with a finite hatred. He had once believed humans were highest up the totem pole; their resourcefulness and endurance unmatched. He had been shown the small scope of his understanding by these abominations. Such powers shouldn't have ever existed. His head shaking slowly.

He couldn't think that way any farther, it was time to adapt.

It was time to use their own force against them.

"[Chameleon Protocol is a go! Vanish in plain sight!"]"

The Locusts began to dull in color, and match the legion elite. Their phusical forms projecting as though they two were human, coming out from their various hiding spaces and blended in with the surging numbers of the legion. 

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Character Name: James Eredas

Affiliation: The Order of Force Majeure

Location/Objective: Beach/First Line of Defense

Allies: (Defenders)

Enemies:  @Grubbistch  (Raiders)

---

Had James known about his opponent's misconceptions of him, he would have laughed. There was no realm in which James would be jealous of Feurerkönig's power, his borrowed power. It was a core tenet of James's martial philosophy.

Gods, goddesses, and demons could be respected, but never relied upon. Unlike Feurerkönig, James's power was all his own. The depravity of Feurerkönig's lust for power only made him brittle, and his true self utterly weak. James could more then fathom his foe's strength, all Krieger was, was a delusional pretender. 

James didn't mind his opponent pressing the attack. As the first conjured blade attempted to rise into the air, James simply pinned it down again with a flick of his wrists, having not moved his nodachi from its earlier position where it swatted it down, completely cutting off any idea of a further attack. Perhaps Feurerkönig's mind was unable to adequately control all three blades and their positioning. It wouldn't have surprised James if that were the case. There seemed to be little in there save for an unending rage, no discipline, or control. Only one, stagnant emotion. 

With his nodachi horizontal across him, the tip towards his right, pinning down one wayward summoned sword, it was a simple matter for James to step into his enemy's charge this time, and with a slip of his left hand, strike the incoming bastard sword on the flat of the blade from the inside with the pommel of his sword, and knock it off to the side. It was a polearm fighting technique, something that the Amaterasu was suited to pulling off as well thanks to its length. James only took his right hand off Amaterasu long enough to literally swat away the second summon slinging for his right side as though it was an errant fly or some uppity tavern wench, his enemy's own rage and power making it easy to sense and track, before that same armored fist came back clamping down upon the top of Feurerkönig's shield. 

"WEAK!" James repeated in his foe's face, inside his guard. The vision of the mask seemed to grow horns now, its smirk even wider. 

Edited by Fierach
Edit for clarity

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Character Name: Shanti
Affiliation: Good Guys.
Location/Objective: 
Create a protective barrier in a specific area of the city to protect innocents.
↳ ✘✘∎∎
Allies: --
Enemies: The Bad Guys.


BV9Moud.pngThe shield was beginning to flow skyward, enveloping the small cluster of buildings that were attempting to stand strong against the attacks. But the elf became a bit more uneasy when something strange flew to the walls to her west; even though her survivors were to the east, she still didn't like that a potential threat has already arrived before she could get the shield up. That, mixed with the battle of man and dragon happening ahead of her and above her dangers floated in the sky, time told her that it was almost done and over with. 

Nervous eyes glanced towards the orb glowing; her power fed its power that's directly transferred to the crystals, all intermingling with one another to create something that may fail. The internal back and forth was mentally tiring, and she chastised herself for weakly falling to unacceptable thoughts. The shield was growing stronger as the minutes ticked by, all she had to do was hope for the best ... and help. 

Turning on her heel, she faced the port alive with dangers and death. There was no more avoiding the impossible issues that were slowly rising out of the waters and those flowing into the sky. She's already put herself in a terrible position, a position that will soon enough reveal her to the enemy - if they genuinely cared for such insignificant gnats. Nonetheless, she will be a target like the rest of them fighting this battle, and if she has to ... if she has to. 

She ran forward just as the earth shook and shifted, but she did not cease. 

"Here, give them to me!"

Shanti's voice rose above the commotion, her sight now set on the injured being dragged out of the dredges of battle. The soldiers looked at her, incredulous of the small figured dressed in golden armor flourished with scarves of blue; her staff with its naturally pointed end held firmly in her gloved hand, while the orb continued to glow brighter and brighter. She did not look like a warrior, more like a weak attempt of a commoner flaunting themselves in the garb of superiors. 

Their hesitance did nothing to prompt a stoppage, instead this none intrinsic elf ran forth. There was no evading this demanding woman, her voice a furious storm and her actions a penetrating rain. 

She stabbed the ground with her stab, making it stand while she ordered the injured to be placed around it. As they were lowered to the ground, some began to help their comrades immediately while Shanti went to the first victim of war. Pressing her hands against their chest, she started to work her magic (literally!), slowly caring for larger wounds first before evaluating if the smaller injuries were worth the worry or if she could send them on their way. 

More will come, she has to work fast.

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Break
Legion
Allies: Dredge and da bois.
Enemies: The Nerd 
@FirePenguinDiscoPanda

Break moved forward with the concentration of a tiger hunting its prey.
Young Khaki behind him he would press a button and the secret weapon would unleash.
For hundreds of years the cave trolls of this land lay dormant and Break had done his best to find the largest and meanest son of a magical beast he could find. The oversized drop pod held the most wicked deadly living weapon in this side of the continent!
compressed air released the doors as it shot up with speed and smoke arose from the holding cell as... wait smoke? Break assumed that the pod had sustained damage but that much smoke was unheard of even for system failure.
The crunch of snack wrappers could be heard as tiny feet walked forth from the billows of smoke and crumpled plastic. 
A tiny girl wearing Breaks headphones walked out.

 

Spoiler

 

Break could be seen with the bridge of his nose clasped between his thumb and finger.
Break moved to join the squad as they searched and disarmed traps. Tripwires were set every so often in the strangest of places. Those were the simplest of the traps.
Break would have the soldiers walk in teams of 4 as they swept the prison mapping out and clearing rooms as they forged onward.


 

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Team: Terrenus

not team: bad guys

The dragons that initially flew over the beach toward the city with the goal of reaching the prison had no choice, but to contend with an approaching cloud of long range missiles.  Each would duck and dive around narrowly avoiding missile after missile like it was some kind of Danmaku game.  Though unfortunately for the various riders a flaw in the missile guidance system would work against them.  As the dragons didn't give off the strong signal of a mechanized unit or aircraft not all the projectiles would track in on the intended targets.  A series of missiles simply dumb fired without a guidance signal and maneuvered haphazardly and unpredictably.  Most of which ended up entirely off target.  Two of the dragons that were carefully maneuvering around the projectiles were caught off guard as an errant unguided projectile slammed into the beast bringing about an abrupt descent.

A new presence would be realized far above the prison that watched down on the conflicts below.  The Berkut had been dispensed from its holding bay, but the airborne Den also held Caracara, Osprey, Harrier, and Owl on standby.  A new voice would crackle into the communication equipment of the Terrenus military officers.  

"OverWatch is on station.  Standby for battle data uplink."

In a moment a constant delivery of information relating to hostile enemy positions, magical activity, battlefield conditions and more would begin to associated Terren commanders.  With a surveying ability on par with the Terrenus satellites focused solely on the battle space the tides would soon be turning.  No hostile would escape the watchful eye of OverWatch.

"Support on station.  Assets uploaded.  Request fire missions as needed."

sdf4_concept_by_eastcoastcanuck.jpg

The striker star would deploy around the outside of the prison and keep watch over the nearby area and the sky.  An omni arctic wolf, the urbanmech and kit fox all leaped to roofs of various buildings surrounding the prison.  The kit fox launched a volley of 12 mid range advanced tactical missiles at a dragon, and the arctic wolf launched streak type short range missiles at another that passed overhead.  Both weapons held shorter ranges than the LRM, but had stronger tracking that wouldn't be hampered by faulty targeting.   The guided munitions hit home sending rotting fleshy chunks of both dragons careening toward the ground.  Thanks to the new battlefield and targeting data the urbanmech iic scored a bearing on one of the incoming drop pods.  As soon as it hit the ground the high tech trash can would open fire with its ultra autocannon/20.  Maintaining an avoidance of jamming the pilot would only opt to fire the gun for one cycle.  This let loose 10 150mm rounds into the drop pod at one round per second.  At the end of it there was no trace remaining of the pod aside from scrap and that was only after 5 out of the 10 rounds struck target.  Venom was prepared to mobilize on the roof to meet any specialized small threats.

The remaining short range arctic wolf and Hana's Cougar remained at ground level ready to meet any further newcomers.  Finally the piranha would patrol the outside of the prison at ground level.  Hana and her ally Arctic Wolf would block Break's allies route forward toward the prison.  Without hesitation the Arctic Wolf would pepper the area of allies with a mix of explosive short range missiles, and it would only be a moment before 20mm plasma rounds and 30mm mana shells would begin raining out of the sky on any hostiles that tried to crowd in the area surrounding the prison.  No hostile would be getting in or out of the prison and surviving.

There was some garbled static that came over the Terren radio.  Something about following a suspicious individual who entered the battlefield and to monitor his behavior.

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