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Dredge

Two if by Sea (Last Chance Raid)

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Team: Terrenus

Not Team: Legion @Dredge @roboblu Independent @Dolor Aeternum

 

“Heh, that’ll show ‘em,” said an inexperienced corporal some rows behind Michael. The boy turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of who said it, but such subtleties were not lost on his men. The soldier stiffened as if a board had just been shoved up his ass.

The morning sun was now a quarter way into the sky. Beads of sweat gathered on the foreheads of the officers at Michael’s back. A comm device windchimed in in his ear *new message*, a sickening sneer spreading across his face in response as cascading beach literally rocked down before him. A hissing sound emitted from Terran lines as hydromancers and pyromancers dipped their arms into wells of water at a recreational center at the top of the beach. This served the dual purpose of cooling down the overheating runes on their weakened flesh and filling the ranks around Michael with steam. Geomancers took their turns afterwards, not as a fighting measure but because the toll of what these mages had just done was significant enough to render arms useless if not properly dealt with.

Much of the beach was sunny despite rolling clouds of sand— and a disgustingly massive accumulation of undead— lumbering like tired giants across the assaulted land, but the front haf of the center two battalions was completely shrouded in a thick, rolling mist. Now the arms of water mages coaxed the vapor forth along the eerie sands. A distant but significant pounding noise arose from the ground that was muffled by the sense-nullifying mist. Much of the army would be encased in a chunk of crystal, a great memorial for the day they fell at Last Chance, but some was clearly boring its way out.

Michael pulled the glove off his right almost gingerly, one finger at a time. The blackened hand beneath was something which, when he demonstrated the power within, brought him under questionable observation. His skin was still a perfect white, but the veins and blood coursing within his right arm were an obsidian anomaly that bled outward when the Stalwart Crystal activated. This magic had taken some acceptance on behalf of the clergy before he could receive their blessing for his position.

Two 50 cal. rifles attached to land cruisers swiveled to attention as the rank beast composed of hundreds of corpse parts made its way toward the underground commotion. Regular gunfire seemed to tear small bits off of the construct, so the eastern battalion nearest its location had opted to switch to heavy guns. The chugging gunfire of three revolving barrels snarled and chomped away at the construct Lady Blackhead rode to her leader.

Just as heavy gunfire ripped into the pillar of ew under Lady Blackhead ground broke upward, renting a lip of earth in such a way that the Legion was provided a trench to call checkpoint. By this point, mist filled the area between the Terrans and the Legion. Even Michael could only see traces of magical energy that his RO allowed him. Still though, Dredge’s voice pierced the fog in such a way that suggested they were far from done even without being able to make out what was said.

“They’re coming. Now!” Michael barked, and three hulks of steel about fifteen feet behind Michael swivelled upward. Cyclopia Beams burst from the eyes of GL-17RX Golems. It was a blind fire into the cloaking mist, but it was powerful enough to pierce through simple psychic barriers. Besides, the psychic witch might be dead. In fact just as the enemy was blind, even Michael couldn’t see basically any of these creatures, but he felt them. He was happy his men couldn’t see what was coming. The one thing the Bastion knew he spied with his magic little eye was Dredge’s force roaring through the fog.

“Sir, bodies flying from the wall to the east!” The RO swivelled within Michael’s head with the sound of tendons grating against crystal, and the Peacekeeper saw it without taking his human eye of the fog Dredge had just entered. Literal bodies were flailing through the sky at him! Screams very unbecoming of the twenty men Michael had known for all of six hours now rang in his ears. “Sir!”

Michael clenched his fists. The thwacking sound of the 20 men’s fresh carcasses making little craters in the dirt around him rang in his ears. There was one, with its neck twisted up, staring at him in its death throes. Its dying sight would not be graced with his line of sight, but the man died in a surreal peace that radiated upon him from his commander.

SIR!”

“CHARGE!!”

Michael ran.

But he did not run in fear— he did not clench his fists in folly. He led his most capable warriors headlong into the fog of war toward his enemy, with his fist clenched around the worn hilt of the Peachy Keen. The facets of the RO swivelled as it absorbed any magical data before him.

*thunk thunk*

The noises issuing from behind the now charging Terran lines came from the GL-17RX Golems, signifying that Michael’s officers had taken the reigns while he charged into battle. It really was inevitable and they all knew it, according to the looks they exchanged on his departure. Three orbs arched overhead and landed somewhere among Dredge’s forces in the fog. After about two seconds a wailing scream resounded from all three of orbs that would tear the eardrums of anything listening and disorient them in a fashion akin to receiving a concussion. The second effect of the anti-psion grenades was that all psionic activity upon the beach would be nullified for the next five-to-ten minutes. This meant that even the fog burst into a fine rain as the projectiles discharged. Now that the rain had discharged, the Golems rose their arms and aimed crossbow-like appendages into the fray. Pointed rays of light energy lined the field as the Golems attempted to cut down Dredge's war beasts. 

When the rainbowed battlefield became visible again, rid of all psionic energy, there neared the momentous clash of two vicious armies and their unstoppable leaders at the forefront. A column of thick, white and black steam billowed before the Terran forces straight for Dredge. Rain evaporated in a wide halo around it and at its very point was Michael’s face, a sick grin that surely symbolized both a battle hardened madness and a peculiar hatred for Dredge. At his left side, just visible out of the streaming fog as he ran, was the wooden hilt of the Tenchi-Ken in his hand. It had been bladeless, but now crowning its pommel was a single node of blinding tangerine light.

---

“Did you see that!?” A guard in a tower that was just on the verge of evacuating sighted a likeness of Dredge flying toward an event at the wall nearby. A secondary flurry of panic washed through the Terran forces by the wall as some thought Dredge had come to pay them a visit. However, a scout watching by binoculars watched the incident unfold between the alleged Dredge and Mayumi, and then the figure morphed and ran off into the masses who were evacuating to the safer embrace of farther Last Chance.

“Okay what the devil?” Lieutenant Beringer informed his comrades as they absconded from the tower for the next one down that there was a shapeshifter in their midst.  “If danger doesn’t reach the next post, we need to keep a watch out for more mysterious activity. He didn’t appear to attack any friendlies, but we definitely can’t call him one yet.”

Wars like this introduced parties from all different allegiances, and smart Terrans had learned to be wary. There would be a squad on the lookout for both another emergence of Agony and a way to track him.

---

Barrett skirted around the battlefield toward the wall, an imp wearing mostly Legion armor but not the helmet. For some reason he ran right in the line of Terran fire but nobody shot him. Maybe it was because he was so insignificant a threat, hop-skipping along like the GEICO gecko, or maybe it was something else.

“‘Take notes kid?’” he said in a voice that sounded like Dredge on helium. “Yeah well I took some notes you big bastard, and now I’m gonna getcha!” His air-punch made his whole body jump off the ground a little as he ran toward the wall, decently away from the main action.

Edited by amenities

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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: Terran defenders


As soon as the little girl walked out of the pad, numerous questions ran through her mind. Why is the little girl here? She knew how volatile that little thing is when under pressure that is why she was not given any field mission and was just delegated to courier duty. One of the cartel's top physical fighter, Sansalon Falashin.

"Warning. Sansalon's presence has been detected. Evacuation is advised."

'Should we run?' Khaki mentally asked herself after hearing Khaks' warnings, 'There are too many enemies and the Legion members might even get caught in her rampage."

"Danger is imminent."

'But she is a powerful ally."

'The Black Head had decided she was too unstable for practical uses.'

'Just need to make use of her the right way....wait!'

As she verbally screamed the last part of her thoughts, realization hit her. With an ingenious and brillian idea, Khaki ran toward Sansalon while dodging projectiles and what not. As more and more soldiers fired at her, she closed in on the girl grabbed her by the shoulders and used her for cover while screaming, "Little Sans, get hard!"

At her command the little girl stiffened, like a mannequin, black tendril-like symbols converging around her body as power surged within the little thing turning her body into something harder than anything Khaki had held in her entire life. With her new defense she charged at the Terran defenders while screaming, "Break! Behind me! Come quickly!"

 

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Location: Beaches 

Objective: Murder the shit out Mike

Allies: Legion @Zashiii @Grubbistch @PurplePanda 

Enemies: @amenities @Twitterpated @Fierach 

 

Truly it had. Hell had broken loose and Dredge was the cause of it. He was its focal point and there was nothing but hate and pain rolling off him in waves. The aura around him was a bright red that seeped into the battlefield around him. Legion had met the enemy with their backs now close to their fortifications, they had bled to get here. They had lost friends, family, and people who could never be replaced. The darkness that cascaded off Dredge fueled their hate, it filled them with the familiar sense of pain and rage that had always been there. They were the outcasts of this continent, the misfits, the mobs that were killed for the pleasure of treasure hunters, adventurers, and when some of them had to commit acts of evil in order to survive. They were put down by the Terric Military with brutal efficiency. 

 

All across the battlefield Legion Troopers were engaged in close quarters combat. Swords met swords. Spells, shells, and massive fists collided with each other from both sides. War Beasts crushed, ate, or blew up entire fortifications while other beasts were swarmed by Terric Troopers as if they were ants digging into a fallen beast, all of them digging their swords into their vitals. Yet all of that fell to the wayside as Dredge and Michael came to face one another. Yet before their meeting could happen, a group of elite Terran forces saw it fit to try and take down Dredge together and claim glory for themselves. To try and outshine their commander and gain a promotion. They had rushed him. 

 

With almost a blur of movement, Dredge cycled power into his speed and immediately came to be into the center of them with his boot landing on one of their heads with a sickening wet crunch. His blade did the rest of the work.

a34dfe5d3ed59750018b618d08b50afab865a374 

 

There were no wasted movements in his form. Mike would have an idea of the swordsman Dredge was. Now there was nothing standing between the two of them. 

 

”You know... I was wrong about you.” Dredge said before whipping his blade into a formal stance as to clear the blood from it and show his opponent the proper respect they deserved. 

 

”You are worth killing.” Dredge said with an excited smile beneath his helmet that even managed to become visible from the shadow of a void that covered his face. 

 

He would make the first move. It would be simple foreplay, while every move was designed to kill, one needed to size up their enemy first before moving into more powerful attacks. It would be a simple combination of strikes, each of which were still incredibly deadly. 

 

 

Objective 2  

 

Location: Last Chance Prison Halls, East Wing.

Objective: Secure High Value Targets

Allies: @Bureku @Zashiii @Djinn&Juice 

Enemies: Terric Military & Guards

OOC Please Read

Spoiler

OOC: What has been decided by faction leadership is that Objective Two NPCs that are not Gamma squad are now up to individual writers actions and control. You  can freely write them dying however I’d recommend not saying “I kill them all in one post with my super god ability and fleet.” Draw it out and have fun. 

 

The remainder of the thread’s NPC action will be a more character driven experience following the mission of Gamma Squad. Treat them as player characters, which means no writing their deaths in your posts, and give them the same amount of respect and attempted damage as you would Dredge or any other character on this site. Thank you. ? 

 

Blood and oil was everywhere. It coated the walls and the black armor of legion commandos. Two sparking terminated Locus droids lie on the floor with their circuits and servos battered and destroyed. Surrounding the newly departed Locus droids was what was left of Gamma Squad. The black iron corpses of Legion Commandos bled out onto the floor, limbs were severed and massive holes were punched into their torsos. The Locust droids had taken down five of the ten elite soldiers in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. The remaining men and women of the squad all drew deep breaths at the aftermath of the carnage. 

 

”MOTHER FUCKER!!” The sharp voice of large female orc rang out in pain and anger as her war club slammed into the destroyed droid’s head, crushing it further. 

 

Kneeling behind the orc was a smaller male troll that held tight to the dying body of his comrade. Pulling their puncture riddled body close to him he put his helmet against his deceased comrade’s. They let out on last choking gasp before their body went limp and life left it. 

 

”Powu is gone.” He said before gently letting down his friend’s body in a dignified manner. 

 

”Onaga, Egdahyt, Powu, Zix, and Sinnol are gone, and I’ll miss them. But we still have a job to do.” The stern and calculating voice of an unwavering commander had spoken up. 

 

”FUCK YOU, KWOVA!! THIS MISSION IS FUCKED!!” The female orc yelled as she took her club to the other droid’s head.

 

”That’s Lieutenant Kwova, Sergeant Uslet. Get your shit together, get your gear, and get your men in order. We move now.” He continued to speak in that disconnected voice. 

 

”DO YOU EVEN CARE!?” The woman now identified as Uslet screamed at her commander when she turned to face him. 

 

”Uslet, calm down. Turning on each other won’t solve anything. We stay on mission.” Grabbing his rifle the man cocked it. 

 

”No surrender. No retreat.” Another of the commandos chimed in. 

 

”We finish the job. For all of them.” There was then a moment of silence as Orc Sergeant had begun to calm herself. 

 

The men and women of Gamma squad knew that there was a job left to do. They had pushed their way deep into the prison and were leading the task that Dredge himself had assigned them. They knew not to fail their lord, they either returned successful or died there in that damn prison.

 

”Techni, get on point. Hardbluff and Hivie on me. Uslet bring up the rear.” Kwova and his men would then spring into action, their destination was that of the deepest and darkest parts of the prison.

Edited by Dredge

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Location: Last Chance Prison Halls, East Wing.

Objective: Secure High Value Targets

Allies: @Dredge @Zashiii @Djinn&Juice 

Enemies: Terric Military & Guards


Break took heed the small girls cries and got behind them both although his figure basically dwarfed the two in size it would at least provide a small amount of cover.
What exactly was this thing made of? 
They easily barreled past the measly guards that were blocking their way making room for the commandos to do their thing.
And that is when Break had a better idea, heaving Khaki over his shoulder. He could tell this was scary for the girls so he would make this as quick as possible.

"Activate penetration mode."


Little Sans head would become like a spade meant to pierce thick armor and Break would be the siege engine of a nightmarish design.
With the full force of his body that he could muster he caved the ground where the mighty strength left his soles.
They Broke through the first wall like toilet paper as Break steamrolled his way through the prison, bullets and traps going off as he bullrushed passed them. Quickly Break would turn his arm in the direction of an attacking Locust Droid as it swooped in for an attack. A blazing white shot of starfire broke the air as Break moved forward with the attack. The droid would easily be able to dodge with its lightning fast reflexes. But was unable to completely avoid Breaks gaze. his crimson eyes targeted the locust as it deftly dodged attack after attack.

"PROTECTION MODE ACTIVATE: PARTICAL SHIELDS!"

Breaks body began to glow with a golden gleam as he commanded the shields to rise encompassing the girls.  Winding up a wicked punch Break was sure to shatter anything this punch came into contact with, but right before contact the droid began to dissapate into a mush of melted steel and blue smoke. the force of the punch breaking a single wall behind the droid was enough 
to leave a hole that was large enough for the orcs to see them them. Break was certain they had more when the mission began and sure enough the bodies of several orcs were piled up their blood stained these floors. These prisoners werent worth dying for but these proud beings had lost their life in the line of duty for them.
His core felt heavy for them. He had failed as a Lord Commander once again. But this was worlds worse than a slight mistake. These orcs Blood was on his Hands.
He stopped and let the Girls down as they met up with the Commando forces.
"Status report."


"THIS MISSION IS FUCKED! AND YOUVE DONE NOTHING BUT STAND BY AS THEY WERE KILLED!" 
 The Female orcs words rang true in his soul. 

"Fan out, Stay alive, release as many prisoners as possible. That will create a distraction long enough for us to reach the bottom levels."
A salute would end the meeting as Break began to charge.

Spoiler

 

 His hand glowing a red hue at first he locked his feet into place as he aimed straight down.
His will would be a drill to pierce the gates of hell.
His weapon roared with energy as the nucleus of the plasma ball began to glow.
Gritting his teeth energy began to drain at an accelerated rate pooling into the palm of his hand.
"15%"
The ball began to ripple with power and grow first from the size of a softball to the size of a beachball
"50%"
"
LET IT GO YOU IDIOT, YOU'LL KILL US ALL!"
His hands were shaking as he launched the ball white light enveloping all of those in the room. Anyone in a mile radius would be able to sense the massive energy source but that was unimportant. What was important was that there was a hole the size of a volkswagon in the floor leading down into the abyss of the prison.
Grabbing the girls Break would leap unafraid of the danger.
falling a few floors down Break noted these walls were getting stronger thicker and darker, the lights on the walls were no longer electric but torchlit. until finally he noticed this was no hallway this was a cell...
A sturdy iron door stood at the end of one of these once heavily defended halls. It possessed no locks or even a handle. It seemed to be a thick slab of steel more than it was an entryway. Scrawls of sanscrit and powerful ward magic sprawling the walls surrounding this door. An anti magic treatment layered around this cell. The interior completely dark and possessing even more runic symbols and sanscrit surrounding a form being suspended by forty seven different steel cables. The form that had been so heavily secured....a mummy? It's bandages and wraps possessing a suspicious red ink matching the rituals performed around the cell. This form unmoving.

@Djinn&Juice @Dredge @Zashiii

Edited by Bureku

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Ochigo

Legion of Doom

Beach (Saving Private Ryan)

Irrelevant

@Twitterpated

It was as if a bomb had gone off. Sand was flung in columns six feet tall, spraying out in a massive radius where Ochigo had hit the ground. He had struck the ground so hard that he had pierced through a few layers of rock below the sand. The sand wouldn’t have caved in on him, due to the sheer force of the landing having sent any stray sand particles far away from the crater in the ground. Jinsoku might’ve felt inclined to investigate the status of the death knight, were dark green fumes of smoke not erupting out of the hole. Corrupted energy, the very essence of Ochigo’s death force. Quite the opposite of the life force that all living things had. The life force sought to build and create. The death force destroyed and consumed.

Already, the sand around the pit shook about as it was corrupted by the unholy essence. A few grains of sand sizzled and bubbled, turning into an icky tar-like substance. Perhaps it would serve as a fair warning to Jinsoku if he wished to engage recklessly.

At the bottom of the pit, a swift bending of the knees followed by a powerful thrust of the thigh muscles launched Ochigo out of the pit. He landed like a statue in front of the pit, with nothing separating him and his opponent. He stood almost motionlessly as if the past exchanges were but a bore to him. To be quite frank, they weren’t. This opponent was depleting his energy reserves far more quickly than any he had ever faced. But a duel was a battle of the mind, just as much it was of the body. Showing no weakness was the most appropriate way to end a fight quickly. Similarly, stalling a battle would most certainly trigger attempts for a quick end by his opponent.

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One didn’t need to have sensitive hearing to detect the rupturing of air particles as Ochigo’s open palm sliced through the air in front of him. His legs slid apart evenly, one in front of the other. His free left palm was lowered to his hip, functioning as a second line of defense should Jinsoku be able to get through his crouching snake stance.

Edited by Frostbinder

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Character Name: Tenkai Matsumoto
Affiliation: Order of Force Majeure 
Allies: Terrenus Military Forces, @Fierach @Twitterpated @amenities
Enemies: Legion of Doom (@Dredge), Blackspear Cartel (@Zashiii)
Location/Objective: Inside the city of Last Chance, engaging Perestroika ( @FirePenguinDiscoPanda ) directly; @PurplePanda on the scene??

 

Tenkai was not expecting the flesh of the dragon to be so...oily. And sticky. And currently trying to absorb him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to worry about that as the necromancer fired her last few shots at him. He made himself as small a target as he could, angling his shoulder guard and gauntlet to cover him as best as possible. A heavy thud struck him in the left shoulder as one of the shots found a lucky purchase, nearly causing him to lose his grip. Thankfully, his bodysuit was resistant to small arms fire, so the real pain had come from the impact of the bullet striking his shoulder. Tenkai remembered back in the day when he used to wear nothing at all on his left side. This would have ended pretty badly if he still had.

But now the necromancer was now using her control over the creature’s body to fling herself at him. At least this meant she was out of bullets. He must have missed her discarding the weapon while the tail swayed around. Either way, it was hard enough trying to maneuver his way around the dragon, taking cover from small arms fire at the same time was no short order. Melee combat was his territory, though first he’d have to do something about this putrid flesh trying to engulf him.

It was time to kill two birds with one stone.

”KAAAAAAAAAAATSU!”

With his face contorted in fury, Tenkai let out a fierce kiai, eyes locking with the otherwise inexperienced necromancer. The shout would rumble through to Peredtroika’s core like the roar of a wild tiger. It was in that moment that it would hit her, the realization of what it meant to be at war. For all of her distaste in having to take someone’s life, that was the name of the game here. This wasn’t just another body to play around with. He was a living soul, and one that could clearly fight back. Tenkai used that forceful shout to force the pressure of his righteous indignation upon her and crush her spirit right as she grew brazen, or foolish, enough to strike at him.

The effect was two-fold, however, for if Tenkai’s intimidation tacti didn’t alarm her, his next action would. The shout triggered his aura to flare up, and suddenly he came ablaze with a burning azure aura of spirit energy. It was anathema to the wicked, and the undead flesh trying to keep him in place would be blown to ash and cast off of him.

That was when he made his move. He took whatever small opening Perestroika would give him to move past her, leading with his right side. If she kept flying at him, he would ram her with his right shoulder, the carved face of his pauldron smashing her right in the face and deflecting her to the side like a bunted baseball.

Regardless of hit or miss, Tenkai kept moving, unsure of how much control she had over the dragon. He made his way up the left side now in a stumbling run, trying to keep his footing. However, the necromancer would probably notice the paper tags that he left in his wake every time he stumbled onto his left hand as he ran. He dropped off the left side—or slipped, perhaps—and once more took another vajra from his belt to stab into the other side of the dragon. No doubt the dragon would notice this by now, especially if it could act independently of its master. He sprang off the left side of its body before it could snap him apart in its jaws.

In mid leap, Tenkai shot his grapple into the wall of a nearby building in order to give him some space to both assess his situation and make his next move. Most of the buildings in the area had been evacuated, of that he was certain. His Soul Sight was enough proof of that. However, there were relief tents nearby for the wounded, and it was only a matter of time until the enemy forces caught up and threatened the city proper. Missile fire was already dealing with the dragons, so with any luck his Seekers would get the hint and start firing at any high value target in their sights. Tenkai had no time to give them orders.

He needed to end this.

In what seemed to be a futile attempt, Tenkai unslung the large beaded rosary necklace from his neck and threw it straight at the dragon that was no doubt already turning its massive body to face him. However, with the dragon being as big as it was, there was no way throwing a bunch of tennis ball sized beads would hurt it.

Edited by Tenkai Matsumoto

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Character name: Delistair Paige

Affiliation: Terran military

Location/Objective: Command centre near the prison, then within the prison/attempt to stop the prisoner from being released

Allies: @Djinn&Juice, @spacegy4

Enemies: @Dredge, @Bureku, @Zashiii

-

The soldiers in the command tent cheered as another group of the invaders were wiped out. It was a tough battle; the enemy had indeed sent their elite forces to infiltrate the prison. Significant casualties had been suffered among the prison guards as well, but they were winning. The enemy numbers were thinning, and the prison yard was now secured by war machines, which Delistair knew that Hana had a heavy hand in building. 

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

The data started to come in through Delistair's monitor, valuable information provided by the strike star. An overall picture of the battlefield showed engagement at the beach, the wall, and the prison. Wait, what was that? An abnormally high magical spike right outside the prison. "Zoom in to zone C3," Del commanded. It was a strange sight, a little girl leading the charge while another child and what seemed like a man in metal armour hid behind her. What the-  What manner of strategy did the enemies deploy? It was quickly obvious that the girl wasn't what she seemed though, as the barrage of bullets flying her way were deflected like they were nothing. 

The man said something, and shield-girl's head deformed into a screw-like shape. It was uncanny and almost painful to watch. Accompanying that, there was another surge in energy captured by the strike star, and then the attacker used the warped girl to smash through the steel walls easily. "Breach alert, east wall, two persons with some kind of drill or ram in the shape of a girl," Del said urgently into the comms channel linked to the prison guards. He wasn't really sure how else to describe the odd scene.

His men followed the movement of the trio on their monitors, switching into the frequencies of the prison's own security cameras to track their trajectory. At one point, the trio stopped to talk to some others. "More enemies spotted, at 2-0-9-7. I repeat, 2-0-9-7," Del said into his communication device. The guards made their way towards the orcs as their position was exposed, however, with many of the cameras destroyed in the fray, if the orcs split themselves up, they would be harder to sweep up completely.

"What are they doing?!" There was an exclamation.

"Are they carrying out a suicide mission?!"

Del snapped his attention back towards the trio as a glowing ball of power gathered in the attacker's hand. Having attuned himself to arcane energies, Del could feel the massive energy being concentrated, even from half a mile away. One of the other soldiers, a native to Last Chance, made a gagging sound of realization. "He's going to-"

There was a massive explosion, one that shook the ground down to its core, rattling their equipment in the command tent. Images on their monitors and speakers screeched and popped as the shock wave took out most of the surveillance devices in the prison. 

"-release HIM!" the soldier finished his sentence. "If the runes that suppress his powers are destroyed.." The look of horror on the soldier's face told Delistair enough. The prisoner cannot be allowed to escape. With their surveillance in the prison destroyed, there was nothing more his squad could do in the tent anyway. Without hesitation, Del ran towards the prison, five of his men with him. The Terran military's insignia on his mage's cloak signified to the defenders that they were a friendly unit, and not to shoot at them. "Come with me! We cannot let the prisoner escape!" Del shouted to one of Hana's smaller machines, certain that the female pilot would be listening in. Whether she sent any of her forces to follow him or not, Del would run into the building through the gaping hole that Break had made in its side. Precious few minutes had already been spent for him to reach here. He couldn't afford to spend a few more running downstairs while the whole building was in lockdown.

"Follow exactly where I step, and fast!" Del told his men. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated his mind, gathering power of his own. With nary a moment's hesitation, he jumped into the void left by Break's plasma blast. Using a technique he had devised years ago, he created temporary protective shields under his feet, using them as stepping stones as he descended downwards at a rapid speed. The shields glowed blue for several seconds, allowing his men to follow him, before disappearing entirely, saving his energy. The shields would also deflect any normal bullets his enemy shot at him from underneath. The steel bracelet he always wore glowed warmly as it amplified his shield magic. His aim was to delay the enemy from releasing the prisoner's bonds until the rest of the military's forces caught up with them. As soon as the enemies came into view, the soldiers accompanying Delistair would open fire at them.

Edited by jaistlyn

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Character Name: Raveena Senaria

Affiliation: Knight-Commander of the Aralim; General of the Enforcers

Location | Objective: Over the Beach | Defense Assistance

Allies: Force Majeure; Terran Military @Twitterpated @Fierach @amenities

Enemies: Raiders @Grubbistch @Dredge @Frostbinder


They came from the Ocean.

 

There was nothing but the fury of a beast barreling for the coast, the roar of parting waters to let him through. The wind was cold and stinging on her cheeks, a petite figure perched and hunkered down on the Wyvern’s back, peering only through the goggles she fashioned to endure such speedy journeys. Orionis was fast—the fastest Wyvern of all that she had. He was sleek and beautiful, while his brother Preta was wild and dangerous—much like his bonded partner, her husband.

She saw as Orionis saw.

She flew as Orionis flew.

She could taste his cosmic cold on her tongue.

Orionis streaked across the Ocean for the shores of Last Chance, a living nebula of colors for which he was named after. Even in the dark of night, only the city’s fires would hint at the shimmers of indigo, crimson, gold and blue-greens along his scales. There was only the high-pitched whirring of something else as they flew.

She spotted her target immediately—or rather, Orionis did. Raveena had long-since believed her abilities as an Empath marked her as a Psion, despite her magical affinity. For so long she had adapted and trained herself as a psionic sorceress—someone who could utilize their Source in the only two integral ways know. It was only when the Imperator Athyon had gifted her the crystalline egg from which Orionis was later birthed that something was different.

Raveena was the first after many centuries of her people losing their cultural identity to be a full-fledged Dragonrider. True, she could use her bonding ability on another person or creature—however, it was a subdued contact, which had led to the belief she was Empath. Only when she touched Dragon and their kin did the full might of the bond take place. Her senses became theirs. Their language, hers.

And so she fulfilled the old Kanzaki-shi legend of her people as the Fujin Ryu, a title that had been meant for her mother as the first man-made Dragonrider. Like Raveena, her mother had been designed as a weapon to be used against an Emperor. In the strange twist of irony, her mother refuted her destiny and married the Emperor. And so Raveena was born.

Legends and prophecies were funny that way.

Twirling her weapon once in her grip, the other arm held fast to Orionis. He had long-since become accustomed to harnessing, and she trusted her Wyvern intimately. Over the harsh cries of the wind, Raveena called out to her target before she launched a projectile from the air to the Knight Aspirant, “JIN!”

It sang, air whistling through its tactfully placed holes. It was a strangely alluring sound—as that is how it acquired its name.

Naga. To lull. That strange, comforting sound was the last thing a person would hear before she lopped their head off—or so she would say. The ishizuki of her Naginata burrowed into the sand three feet from Jin, the blade waving in the air as the lacquered Mahongany shaft recovered from it’s descent.

It was a sign. A sign of her consent to inherit the family weapon. She had carried it, her mother had carried it, her grandmother had carried it. Raveena had always had the most faith in Jinsoku. If James were the one father-figure the young man had, Raveena was the closest thing to a mother.

Survive, she would say. Survive, and it’s yours.

She surveyed the scene from overhead. She could see Tenkai and James. She could see the familiar faces of Terran military soldiers. She even spotted the fiery suit of armor from Genesaris that had partaken in a quest alongside her and many others. Her Artificer had warned her of this creature--that the man who had first come to her would likely lose control of the demonic entity he had summoned, that seemingly possessed him. How he wanted to save Genesaris and the world from the terrors of Whispernight. Now it seemed he had become a terror, himself.

How the mighty had fallen.

Her Enforcers were wearing, but aah--there was Sabine, heading for the beach from the tents. Raveena pressed to her Enforcer collar to activate the communication designated for her higher ranks. "Captain." 

There was a series of static--no doubt interference from the commotion below. Tough the Enforcers were, they were not indestructible. "--jesty?! You--be he.--rous." Raveena's brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the choppy signal. "--ating the ten. --aftey zone."

Raveena released her communications device. "Clax ve vhira, qe doegel di nlgnosi!" She could feel the elevation change as Orionis soared lower, their watchful gazes sweeping the area. She could see movement in the city now and hoped she guessed correctly what Sabine meant. The area was no longer safe and they were moving. She pressed her communications device to open the channel again, "Captain. The Enforcers on the beach are to be extracted. I'm sending mine in to cover."

If Sabine heard her, she didn't acknowledge it traditionally. Circumstance dictated she focus on her fight, she could see the tiny speck of a formidable woman racing for the shores.

"Lieutenant." A lovely female voice answered immediately, marred only by light static, "Yes, General."

"The medical tents are compromised. We're gonna do a bait and switch."

"I copy."

This was going to be interesting.

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Character Name: Evanjalin

Affiliation: Legion of Doom

Location/Objective: Beach / berserk

Allies: @Dredge, she supposes

Enemies: Valucre, especially Michael, that jerk @amenities

She watched Michael charge forward, having somehow dodged her assault of bodies, and lead his soldiers into a charge. Crestfallen, her silver eyes turned back to the conflict. The Legion troops were stirring forward in response to the Terrans' advance, but here near the back there was considerably less movement for the long-range fighters. Evanjalin walked sullenly among them, as she knew Dredge had taken up the mantle of killing that blasphemous wretch of a man. Left with little reason to fight, the star was content to simply weave through the hordes of howling beasts and men, her long, silver-blond hair floating behind her as if she were walking across the ocean floor. To someone watching her from a distance, her very drastic change in demeanor from furious to resigned would seem odd, to say the least. Evanjalin was a newborn human, and was subject to very sudden mood swings, hot and cold flashes, bouts of mania and dredges of exhaustion. This was evident even on the battle field, whose violence did not seem to phase her in the slightest despite her shifting mental state. The fallen star did not fear death. 

The aftermath of the blast she had deflected brought a slight twinge to her lips; the reflected ball of fire had killed at least five men, though it had failed to shatter the barrier surrounding Last Chance's metallic blue wall. Fixed on the image of men burning to a crisp, she failed to notice the orbs spiraling through the air until it was too late. One landed several meters from her with a dull thunk, drawing her quizzical gaze 'round to study the smooth, spherical object. It was a pleasing shape, she thought, daring to take a step closer- 

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Evanjalin's mouth opened into a perfect 'o,' her hands instinctively clapping against her ears, legs scrambling away from that thing, the noise. Her hatred of sound was second only to her hatred of magic, for over the course of millennia she had rested alone in the unmarred silence of deep space. The relative quiet of the Peaceful Woods had nearly broken her when she had first landed on Valucre, with each whisper of wind through the trees sounding like a clap of thunder to her sensitive ears. This weaponized screeching caused her brain to jump in the most painful way imaginable, and it was a wonder that her legs found the coordination to stand, much less run. 

But Evanjalin ran

While her white armor was lightweight, it seemed to choke her as she sprinted away from the orbs, her sides heaving wildly. The breastplate constricted her chest, forcing the air out of her lungs in short, hot breaths. She struggled to discard it as her ran slowed into a jog, which further slowed into a disheveled shamble. The noise trap was far enough that it was no longer obstructing her capacity for reason, but the sound of it was simply maddening. Evanjalin called on the cosmic power trapped in her chest, and, after a few moments, the armor simply fell off of her body, its buckles incinerated. In blindly fleeing the noise contraptions, the dark star had also managed to clear the radius of magical impermeability. Eyes of molten silver flicked to the wall, and stayed there. Her feet began to move with more purpose now as she stalked toward the brave city that had damned itself. 

With another pull of her fingers, more men tumbled off of the wall and onto their comrades below, dragged to their deaths by a sudden force of gravity. Their numbers were insignificant compared to the much larger force beneath them, but the absence of an attacker struck fear into the hearts of the remaining men perched above the chaos. The terror amplified by the mysterious vision of Dredge that had recently appeared in the area, this section of the wall erupted in screams.

Evanjalin was walking into the conflict now, but her eyes remained fixed on that tall, blue mockery of a gate. A passing soldier swung his sword to cut her down, perhaps tempted by her lack of armor. With a wave of her hand, Evanjalin had incorporated his mass, fueling her strength. A few more men tried their hand, but met the same fate; she reached her limit around four or five bodies, unable to process any more particles for a short period of time. For now, it would do. The little woman was sowing death where she walked ... though she knew it would make little difference in the bigger picture, and an army of bodies stood between her and Last Chance. In a moderate expense of energy, she accelerated the vibration of select particles around her. The loose electrons of metal bent so easily to her will, and, in another wave of screaming, the men around her fell, writhing, to the ground. She had melted the inner layer of their helmets, fusing the hot metal to the skin on their heads. 

Their shrieks and cries drove her insane. She tried again and again to silence these horrible beasts, but only wrought more noise down on her sensitive ears. Fortunately, a path was clearing for her, and Evanjalin knew better than to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. She would make this city pay. 

Edited by roboblu

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Character Name: Maira Pembroke

Affiliation: Terrenus military 

Location: city wall

Allies: Terrenus military

Enemies: @PurplePanda? @roboblu?

The shadowy golems, all looking starkly like the Peacekeeper on the battlefield, rushed forth, engulfing Mayumi. The closed in as if to hold her. At that right moment, she heard Hana speaking of an unknown on the field wearing Terran military garb. Then it happened in a flash. 

"What the-?!" Mayumi was being charged from the side. The unknown rushed in, knocking Mayumi off the wall. 

Maira's rushed voice sounded on the communicators. "Unknown has made a move. The unknown is a shapeshifter. I think. Be careful." The woman's golems moved, shifting their attention to a new one. Some of her men were being tugged off the wall. And it was enough to grab her attention. 

"Oh, you little..." shit. Maira removed both of her gloves. Embedded in her hands were weapons of their own. One powered by scrolls. The other was a continuous power source of its own. 

No one fucks with her nerds. They were her nerds. She jogged, watching as Evanjalin made her way to the wall. It was going to be perfect. The tiny constructs were in place, the perfect imitation of an opening. It even looked open thanks to her crystalline deception. The dwarven warriors on the ground new better than to stand in the way. 

Maira opened fire upon Evanjalin that were just simple balls of flame from her left palm. This was just a tactic to fake out the enemy. As soon as the enemy would make their way to the opening, a swarm of tiny flying mechs would take to the air, stinging and attacking the group offending their space. 

 

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Perestroika hadn't ever seen such a face of courage. This was war, and he was a warrior. Her hair standing on end as she flew through the air. Her focus distracted and causing her attack to slacke. An unfortunate mistake as she felt the full consequences with a shoulder rammed into her face.

It was disorienting to say the least, and absolutely fucking painful at Its worst. Her vision blurring as she was clobbered into her dragon again. Oh man she really fucked up. Her entire body racked with pain as Luthrim roared. His animated flesh keeping her safe as she recovered. 

Luthrim beginning to growl as his skin ruptured into jagged spikes that attempted to keep him at bay. His tail swinging in rapid succession; using the might of his full weight.

His opponent using a grappling hook to buy him much needed time in order to bolster next attack...which was a bead necklace? The sound of the girl laughing within the dragon could be heard "oh man! Vat? You sink ill pull up my shirt now?" She asked through Luthrim' vocal chords. This strange attack leaving her confused in her bemused ignorance "Usually dinner comes first ja?? But your straight to ze mount!!" She said, laughing at her own jokes. The dragon swaying its form as it patently waited for it's prey. Luthrim not trusting his sudden distance as a vile green liquid churned through his teeth before firing an acid stream toward the swordsman. Perestroika almost finding this guy charming in his intensity. 

@Tenkai Matsumoto

-------

The cell was larger than what could be considered necessary. The form suspended nearly thirty feet in the air. Each chord connected to a different limb and seemed to keep him in some sort of stasis. Their direct efforts overwhelming the archaic ritual magic and it fall through the air.

The wrappings beginning to unravel, and as they did his saviors saw a miasma of magic pulled from the very air and swirling around this now floating clump of bandages and....were those worms?

These purple writhing worms swelling from the magic in the air and their mass forming into a humanoid figure. Arms and legs writhing into place . the head forming soon after with the magic condensing into a bright purple cloak that enveloped his form, and bloomed a hood for his squirming facial features. The worms that walk standing before them. 

He immediately let out a surprisingly genuine sigh of gratitude "Well I say! I wondered if I'd be stuck in their for eternity. My deepest gratitude." His accent a charming British. Which made this even more disconcerting.

He kicked up his legs in a criss cross formation, and...continued to stay in the air; floating five or six feet off the groud, moving toward them with a nod "Right well! It sounds like everything is as pale as broagues so we best flee yes?" He questioned politely. His hood keeping his ghadtlu face from being seen formulating this odd eloquence. 

"My name is Reginald Baldric Ormeya Thaydrenn Lockheed The Third, but I just go by Reggie for posterity' sake!" He said with a whimsical laugh

"What a wonderful day"

@Zashiii

 

Edited by Djinn&Juice

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Character Name: Sansalon Falashin / Little Sans

Affiliation: Legion of Doom/ Black Spear cartel

Location/Objective: Going commando with Break/ prison heist

Allies: @Dredge 

Enemies: Terran Defenders


It all had been a rush for her. The last thing she remembered was finding a nice cozy secluded spot something like a large metal room where she settled herself for the night. Half awake, she halfheartedly snacked on the voluminous amount of sweets inside her pack while listening to Dredge's anthem. Her homonculus pet, Specky, had already decided to become her costume for the night, a skimpy pajama catsuit.

Next thing she new her cozy room opened and then there was gunfire. Still groggy from her sleep, all she could do was follow the instruction shouted at her. From there it was a mad rush which consisted of her being made into a human meat shield, her friend Khaki (why is she there?) wrapping her legs around the droid's waist and her arms around his neck while chugging on her ever present booze. Then other things occurred like the droid using her as a jackhammer, they faced numerous guards and broke through wall after wall.

3 hours ago, Djinn&Juice said:

"My name is Reginald Baldric Ormeya Thaydrenn Lockheed The Third, but I just go by Reggie for posterity' sake!" He said with a whimsical laugh

"What a wonderful day"

It was only after the team had breached the prison room and ended face to face with an inmate that Little Sans had full awakened. 
Revitalized she jumped forward, face to face with the  inmate as she shrilly screamed in response to his words, in her cutesy childish voice, "HUZZAH!"

Everything the man had said went through from one ear to the other barely registering inside her childish mind .Despite not understanding anything the revolting creature said, she just felt pity for the creature. No matter how disgusting it looked, he did not deserve to be chained like an animal...um...well worms are animals though but the metaphor stands. And this was why she had to free him. Free him the same way the Lady freed her form her chains decades ago.

In one fluid motion, the little girl began to strip, removing her catsuit pajama to reveal the tube and short shorts underneath. Other than her scandalous underclothes, her dark skin was filled with numerous tendril like tattoos, painfully etched into her skin. Disturbing as it may seem, her powers work the more skin she shows. The tattoos etched on her skin needs to feel the air, needed to be seen. Histrionic, yes, it makes her ridiculously powerful that the concept stopped getting ridiculous.

Power surged within her as her tiny hands clasped the prisoner's bonds, her tattoos seeming to glow, then rearranging into what seemed like magical arrays that pooled into her arms and hands. If the prisoner was a being of magic, it would notice that the what the symbols signify-

Strength. Protection. Weakening. Amplification.

One to increase her strength, one to protect her from the magical backlash, one to weaken the bindings, and one to amplify all the other spells greatly. A rather advanced multi-spell technique for a brutish little girl. Even as the adverse effects of the magical backlash traveled up into her arms inflicting dozens of cuts on her arms, she remained composed. Once more her tattoos glowed even brighter as they other tattoos left in her body moved into her blood spurting arms, creating another set of magical array.

Healing. Reduction. Resistance. Amplification.

Healing to heal her wounds. Reduction to reduce the pain. Resistance to increase her resistance to the adverse spell's effects the longer it affects her and lastly amplification whichh boosts her spell into ridiculous levels.

As she was close  to breaking his bands, she screamed, "100% MAXIMUM NO CHILL!"

@Djinn&Juice

Edited by Zashiii

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