A Glorious Stand (Glorious Beginning Continuation)

[Veloci-Rapture 2086]

"Well, shit."

Mel's lips formed a line as she watched the unfolding disaster; she was going to have to do something quick, or their little crew was going to go from "sneaky-sneak squad" to "main combat unit."

She spread her feet in the sand until they were wider than shoulder-width apart; the sound of the grains sliding over her boots masked the soft squishing noise that accompanied her shapeshifting. Her right arm looked unchanged, but inside it was no longer a tight network of muscles and sinew reinforced with steel; it now was something similar to a t-shirt cannon. It had taken a split-second of thought in terms of what she'd use for ammunition, something that would fit the theme of the lie she'd told about being a priestess of the goddess of elemental water; a fist-sized ball of liquid nitrogen in a thin blue neoprene membrane.

She poked her head over the trench wall just in time to see Tall, Dark, and Clanky chuck a spear into some poor kid's chest. Shit was about to get real, and Mel wanted to make sure it was going to get real somewhere else.

"I'm going to use my ice magic to cause a distraction; once it goes off, I'll need you to cover my back. I'm going to be very vulnerable for about fifteen seconds while I transform."

Her patter disguised the shapeshifting sound again. Thurgood and Natalya would see her right arm begin to glow a deep blue color; it was just bioluminescent algea, but nobody had ever questioned that trick -- if something's glowing, that means its obviously magical. She raised her arm at about a forty-five degree angle towards the other side of the harbor.

"Mahyeem kerach!" Mel stage-whispered, and fired the ball from her palm. The blue color of its container matched the sky perfectly, making it exceptionally difficult to track even if someone had been looking directly at it when it came out of her hand; it drew a perfect parabola in the air before coming down right in the middle of a group of men on the far side of the beachhead. The membrane burst on impact, showering the men with the coldest substance they were likely to ever encounter, instantly freezing everything it touched. The cloud of supercooled steam, the spreading icy patterns on the sand, the solid-frozen beards of the pirates, and the screams of confusion and pain were all bound to be more interesting that whatever some frumpy woman and an arsonist were doing in a trench. At least, that was Mel's hope.

"Ok, here we go. Don't let anyone shoot me."

Mel closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her, mumbling to herself as if she were reciting some kind of sacred prayer. Cold air began to rise off her body and her legs began to glow with more bioluminescence.

She mentally counted to ten, then began the transformation. She hadn't had time to practice this one; it was a spur-of-the-moment sort of deal, but Mel was nothing if not a showperson. Her legs lengthened as they fused together, then split apart again, then again, and again, until she was half-again as tall as her original form. The glow faded; her upper body was now voluptuous and nude, her breasts modestly covered by a brand-new mop of extravagantly long green hair, and her human lower body was fully replaced by eleven giant squid tentacles. Mel panted and grimaced for a moment, pretending like the act of assuming The Sacred Form had been physically taxing, then made a show of resolving herself against some unspoken pain and giving her soon-to-be passengers a meaningful glance before scurrying towards the water on her new limbs. She went deep into the surf until only her shoulders and head were above the water; from this angle, Thurgood and Natalya could see tough, thick fins jutting from either side of her spine.

"Grab onto my fins, quick! Don't worry, I probably won't forget that you two can't breathe water. That's one of those mistakes you only make once or twice, am I right?"

 

@notmuch_23 @Zashiii @Fierach

Edited February 27, 2020 by Veloci-Rapture

[Devil 321]

Modern - to future tech came into view. Now this made things a lot more interesting.

(ComLink:Bastion)'' Warpath to Bastion. Focus tank fire on those attempting to unload heavies. We want those off the playing field for as long as possible. ''
(ComLink:Ivan)'' Warpath to Ivan. I need air support to pick off stranglers. ''

Seemed as though the persona of Simpson Castle would get what he wanted. War, sure it wasn't as he had preferred, but. It would do. The first thing he would do is rush for the nearest group of insurgents. Hands were at work, one held 1 of the bottles he concocted. The other ignited the cloth that had been shoved into the bottle. The cloth had pulled up some of the kerosene within, so it caught fire rather well. Moving, his body propelled at very high speed, most other runners would have been put to shame, but there was always the possibility of someone better. Down the beach he ran, towards them, those who were busy trying to unload the heavier tools of war.

The bottle tumbled through the sky, directed towards the back wall where the weapons were being housed. The fire might cause problems, but it was the smoke that would be the worst. Poison Ivy, Poison Oak, Poison Sumac and a form of peppers with very high qualities of capsaicin. It would rob those within of sight, smell, and the ability to breathe. This blitz would happen 3 more times, firebombing where heavy weaponry was being unloaded. Then he switched to grenades, tossing them in large parties of enemies, and gunfire, using the AK-47 to clean up those that scattered from the grenade blast. Hoping Ivan followed suit, and in the chaos they would create. It would leave Bastion's tanks to mop up the rest in a more permanent way. 

Fierach @Agent Knockout

[DocterDuck 35]

 

Pirates: 

A garnered galloping of pirates would be leisured around the depths of a village's streets and cornering. The pirates heave their weaponry of cutlery, gunpowder-drunken pistols, revolvers, series of cheapened rifles, and handheld bottles of an explosive alcohol. Their gazes are those of a fishy tasting, with a scaled pox running alongside their facades of a grimy gruel. Chariots of the carousing pirates are sprung around the hollows of the rickety, deconstructed streets. A taste of a darkened ash files throughout the airs as worn gallows rest alongside the upmost peak of the village's centerpiece. The centerpiece lies to be of a forsaken town's hall, to which has suffered a series of an arsonist's onslaught. Windows are chipped of their glass. The stairway upon which a governor's office once rested, only leaves the markings of a battered burrow. Trophies of opposition, being that of local militias and other parliamentary figures of the village, are strewn across the frontier of the halls. A carving of weaponry is blasted throughout the powdery scrapes of a desolated and abdicated atmosphere, The chambers of the streets beyond the town hall fair for a worsened ravaging, yet, the deconstructed halls have become a testament for the pirate's own luxuries. 

A dozen of the pirates stroll mockingly around the cavernous, dusty dunes of the streets. Rifles are hoisted ahead, with their ends of gunpowder ringing raucously throughout the coves of the roads. The pirate's facades lack anything of humanity's morals nor skin. Their eyes wedge themselves upon a lusting lunging of a greed, with their weaponry floundering around for any sight of a ravaged resistance. The barking rasps of a sailor's swearing, taken with the accounting of their drunken tongues, leaves only the haunting choruses of the breeze to be absolved into a drugged brutality. Yet, the siege upon the livelihoods lingers onward throughout the internalized motto of the pirates' own faction of a self-pronounced commander. The commander's truest title being of a filthy fishy-man, with the facade of a captivated chambered-nautilus. Yet, the only appearance of the commander marks his public oration throughout different settlements of higher-ranking pirates. With his truest naming being of Chamberlius.

Behind the corridors of the capitalized hall of the village, lurks the sight of the commander. The commander's position remains of a silhouetted security, with a quartet of his pirates looming by the entryway of his egotistically-appraised room. The room's interior is decorated throughout flurries of skinned trophies, acquired from the batches of feathery resistance movements throughout the streets. A prized and ornamented document of the village's previous governance rests within the basins of his shelled palms. His discontented and inquisitional facade skulks around the mumbled, mired writings of the document. In such skimming, the husk hopes to the finding of any political loophole to satisfy external forces that will potential assault the village.

The conjugations of crowds remain brutalizing the village's core. The shaving of freedom has been erased to only the might of superior weaponry and immorality founded throughout the bustling of the pirate's militia. The priming of executions readies as the honking velvet of gallows sings throughout the evening and dawn. The raging ramparts of artillery, armed by most of the crustaceans, roar around the outskirts of the village's providence. Only the looming terror of a purged political statement binds the pirates together throughout the seizing of the government. Beneath the curtains of the terrible inferno, lies an orating minnow-man. His arms are locked against the barrel of a crisped revolver. A bullet is lodged into the powdery depths of a cartridge as it begins firing against the facades of resistances.

"Commander Chamberlius' vengeance won't have any forgiveness for scum!"

To which the calling answers only the statement of an abolished humanity founded throughout the village.

@Fierach

Edited February 27, 2020 by DocterDuck
Forgot to @ the person running the thread for pirates. Also added the mention of a cartridge for the revolver.

[notmuch_23 2300]

Thurgood doesn't know what Natalya is going to do, but he doesn't waste any time latching onto a fin tight, waiting for Mel to bring them to one of the larger ships, making sure his knotted rope with the makeshift grappling hook was easily accessible.

Given the tight confines below deck, sneaking to the munitions storage would be next to impossible, so Thurgood expects a fight, mostly with buckshot and grenades.

[Agent Knockout 216]

Ivan replied:

'Yeah sure, just tell us when you want the barrage to begin, and the might of Yugoslav gear will wipe them clean.'

 

@Devil

As they prepared to engage, they noticed the commotion in the town center, and one of the tanks, as well as a number of half-track APCs left the hilly rear of the city, and made their way to the center areas, speaking with a loudspeaker:

'This is the Yugoslav Mercenary Resistance! Disperse from this village immediately or face massacre!'

Edited February 27, 2020 by Agent Knockout
Incase there is confusion, this is directed to the pirates.

[Phoebe 1739]

The Master Knight frowned immensely as Masuda burst forward like a gust of wind, ever so soundless and quick. She nodded solemnly as the wind lifted her hair, her cloak billowing in the gust generated by the force of Masuda's powerful dash. Beneath it, a metallic suit of plate gleamed beneath, dulled from age and wear and patched up with a layer of dutifully applied polish. She swept her cloak aside, pressing her palm against her chest over her Dragonslayer pendant. The offer had been made and rejected. She could hold back her people's outrage no longer.

Perceiving in advance the oncoming rain of fire, an orange sphere of raw energy burst out from the pendant around Addison's chest, extending fully into a bubble two metres in diameter, encasing her fully in a bulletproof shell. She gazed at her foes, which were being harassed vigorously by Masuda's team. In her younger days, she might have charged in then and there, to do battle alongside her beloved comrade. But the Master Knight had aged, and with age came wisdom and restraint, as well as knowing better than to succumb to one's own temptation. She stood still as a rock amid the ocean of chaos, analysing and evaluating the enemy's movement within her protective bubble.

As a bloodied pirate hand struck struck her shield in desperation, she looked on in pitiful apathy. Her heart hardened as she looked beyond the dying man before her, onto the four ships floating dangerously within range of counterattack.

@Fierach

[Zashiii 4331]

Seeing that the other two wasted drunkards have no intention of ever waking up or helping, Natalya decided to take initiative. 

"Ok, here we go. Don't let anyone shoot me."

Little Natz nodded in assent. Since Mel was in dire need of protection, the young girl would her best to help her elders. From her plethora of possible summons, she chose to a more grounded one. An earth spirit. One tainted by Natalya's shadow. The spirit rose from the girl's shadow and into the ground below where it would raise a mound of earth that would cover Mel's strange transformation sequence. When the magical monster transformation sequence was done, Little Natalya dropped her protection and followed this strange form of Mel into the ocean.

"Grab onto my fins, quick! Don't worry, I probably won't forget that you two can't breathe water. That's one of those mistakes you only make once or twice, am I right?"

Getting a little wet is the least of Natalya's problems but drowning seemed like a major death flag. However, that notion did not hinder her from jumping onto Mel's newly reformed body. 

@notmuch_23 @Veloci-Rapture

.

Edited March 1, 2020 by Zashiii

[Devil 321]

To say that Warpath expected those that were supposed to attack after he began attack himself was an understatement. The AK-47 continued to mow down those who had not been killed or scattered from the grenades he primed and thrown into large nests of enemies. The first magazine was ejected, all 30 rounds had been spent. The spent magazine was spun around, 180 degrees, the other magazine that had been taped upside down, that magazine was now vertical and slotted and locked in. The AK-47 was re-primed and ready to spit out more lethality. Each and every shot was aimed for the space just above the sternum, where the armor was usually thin, the muzzle jump was factored in, meaning that those shot might be catching bullets in the windpipe. 

(ComLink:Ivan) '' Ivan, where's my air support? I need the places I've attacked wiped out. I'm kicking the hornet's nest, you're furthering that chaos. ''
(ComLink:Bastion) '' Bastion, have the tanks fire on the closest ship. ''

Sweat beads began to form on his brow as he continued to circuit through the enemies trying to unload heavy weapons, or those that were in bunches. The whole point of this was to kill, and wound or outright kill as many enemies as possible. It had been what he was created for. War. 

'' COME ON YOU COWARDS! THIS IS WAR!  WE FIGHT AND DIE FOR THIS!!! ''

He spat those words at those pirates, the AK-47 spitting bullets. He had been using both hands to fire the weapon, but it was time to shift into a more serious mode of war. So muscle capacity was enhanced to the point the AK-47 could be fired with maintained accuracy while the other hand pointed the RPG that had been gifted to him, so now one hand held the AK-47(Left hand) and the other held an RPG(Right hand). The RPG was fired, sending a high explosive towards one of the heavy weapons that was being unloaded, aiming for the window, hopefully making it nonfunctional. While the AK-47 picked off those trying to unload it. Hopefully now, Bastion and Ivan would kick in.

 

Spoiler

Actual Speech. Thought manifested as speech through ComLinks.

@Fierach @Agent Knockout

[Agent Knockout 216]

While Warpath was asking for air support, he, as well as others, could hear the growing noise of the jet engines. 

Pilot 1: 'Nis-1, ready for air strike. Guided Munitions and Guns Loaded, will strike at low cruising altitude at supersonic speed!'

Pilot 2: 'Novi Sad-4, ready for engagement! Air-to-Surface and Air-to-Air Missiles Loaded, will strike at relatively low cruising altitude, covering you, then release payload after you are done!'

With that brief radio chat, they began their approach on the Red Royal. 

First, they set their altitude. Since it was not likely the pirates had any serious air defenses, or standoff capabilities against missiles and bombs, the crew felt quite safe, even more so because their supersonic approach made targeting them a task and a half.

Pilot 1: 'Targeting that Destroyer. I have him locked on and will ensure a successful hit. I will relay the targeting data to you so you can ensure a successful hit on it as well.'

Pilot 2: 'Copy that. I will be covering your approaches, we don't know if there are any enemy air supports present. I am waiting for your strike.'

Then, they made their attack run, first spraying pirates with the plane's 30mm machine guns, killing dozens, and once they were close enough to the Red Royal, and also 1000 meters in the air, the first plane released it's payload of 10 bombs, and 1 managed to miss as the 9 others hit the Red Royal, inflicting damage to the ship.   

Pilot 1: 'Strike run successful. Pilot 2, take over.', and the plane began heading back to base.

Pilot 2: 'Sure!'

The second plane began the attack run, passing the ships, and having equipped missiles. Looking back, the pilot got a lock-on on the Red Royal, shooting an air-to-surface missile, and doing some more damage to the Red Royal as the rocket strikes what is presumed to be the engine compartment, hitting the engine.

Then, the plane fired 2 more air-to-surface missiles at the landing craft deploying heavy vehicles as to support the ground operations.

@Fierach @Devil

Edited February 27, 2020 by Agent Knockout

[Veloci-Rapture 2086]

In spite of Mel's implication that there would be some danger of drowning, she was true to her word; her new seaworthy form sped across the water keeping her two dorsal fins and her passengers' heads above the surface. She made for the stern of the Mandarin, calculating that most of the pirates would be on the bow, watching the carnage on the beach. She was much faster than a rowboat, reaching her destination in a quarter of the time it would have taken had they all been manning oars. Soon they were right up against the hull of the giant ship, and she lifted her head out of the water to address her co-conspirators.

"We're coming aboard, me hearties. Yo ho ho, rum bottles, dead men's chests, and all that. Hold on tight."

Two of her tentacles lifted out of the water and affixed themselves to the hull with powerful suckers; Mel couldn't remember if squids had suckers, or if that was just octopi, but she figured that if she didn't know, it was unlikely anyone else would either. Besides, who's going to question the biological abilities of a squidmaid?

With astonishing grace that belied her ungainly form, she silently climbed the hull with her versatile tentacles until she deposited herself and her crew on the empty poop deck.

"Alright, folks; you go down and light this bitch up; I'm going to find the helm and see if I can run her into one of the other boats. If we can take out two at once, that'll be just swell."

@notmuch_23 @Zashiii @Fierach

[notmuch_23 2300]

Thurgood brandishes his pump-action shotgun, as he wonders how the fuck he's going to find the ammunition storage area. It's not like pirates gre going to have accurate maps or diagrams, he can't just ask somebody, and there are a lot of rooms down there, teeming with hostiles.

Following the poor sods that need to haul shells to the guns would be a great idea, if they were firing. But right now, they're not. Maybe he could discreetly extract the location from somebody before silently cutting a hole in their diaphragm and opening a carotid artery.

@Veloci-Rapture @Zashiii

Edited February 27, 2020 by notmuch_23

[Xoco 191]

As soon as the other tank exploded, Douglas got up from the bush, dusting himself off and approaching the other tank which he had temporarily disabled. He climbed atop the tank and knocked on the hatch, his blade's facade of a cane now long gone. He wasn't worried about the pirates inside - any steel weaponry would be stuck on the floor of the tank, impossible to pick back up.

"Open the hatch up, and I'll consider keeping you lads alive," He said with confidence, "You keep that hatch shut however, I'll make your deaths slow and painful. I'd be doing society a favour by killing the likes of you."

Using his cane sheathe, he began to pry open the hatch, just slightly, in order to force the pirates to respond faster.

[Fierach 3639]

Pirates: 

The pirates at the very forefront of the landing would be able to get off the warning, if only because the corpse of their point-man would make it very plain that they were under attack. The spear slammed straight through the man and had actually impaled another behind him, such was the force behind the attack. The half dozen or so members left fired reflexively at where the spear came from.

Thurgood, Natalya, and Mel would go unnoticed. Their ice bomb was an excellent distraction, not really for themselves, but it killed some of those who would be otherwise firing at Warpath. The juggernaut of a being was among those who attracted the most attention, being the obvious threat. In an open space, his bombs weren't as effective as he might've liked, far diluted by the sea breeze. As he switched to grenades, he would find himself rushed by three particularly heavyset pirates. The gleam of fanaticism was present in their eyes, each man shrugging off bullets that didn't kill them immediately. They would try to take down the Warpath and bear him to the ground, or die trying. One of them fell before reaching Warpath, finally dropped by rifle rounds coring through his head, but the others would tackle him to keep him from the transports and landing craft.

The two landed armored vehicles and the escorts around them would only detect Azami in her absence, futilely firing after her, and unaware of the ticking time bomb attached to one of the vehicles. Twenty seconds now until her gifts to the pirates would be revealed in explosive glory.

Where Masuda appeared, heads rolled. Most were simply no match for the sheer speed of the shinobi, as the pirate who attempted to hold Addison hostage demonstrated by simply falling over like a marionette with its strings cut. However, super speed wasn't an unheard of ability in the world. A small squad of pirates simply grouped up together and presented themselves as a barrier of gun-barrels, firing in every which direction. One bullet had to tag Masuda, they thought. Even if none did, a few of them would die thinking of the Crimson Wake's terrible vengeance, and it eased their passing.

When one of the armored vehicles finally ruptured due to Azami's bomb, the ensuing shrapnel scythed down those that were too close to it. Douglas would have to worry though, as the destruction of the other vehicle forced some of those surviving to pay attention to the last one they had left. As he tried to pry the hatch of the light tank open, he would find himself pulled off by two mutated plunderers and thrown to the ground, whereupon they would start kicking him in the ribs if he didn't escape or fight back fast enough.

Roughly half of the pirate landing parties on the main beachhead were left,  but many of them already wounded.

---

Upon the command deck of the Red Royal, a forked tongue tasted the air. Deceit. Courage. Resistance, she could already taste it on the salt breeze. The Gorgon, others called her, Storm Witch of the Fishmongers, Huntress of the Sea. The dark slits of her eyes narrowed as she went to report to the Crimson Wake her findings, the tendril-fronds of her hair flowing behind her, betraying her naga's heritage.

The shore party would be wiped out, she told the figure sitting on the vessel's command throne. The Crimson Wake nodded and answered, his voice like the crashing of waves upon rock.

"It does not matter. More will always be willing to enact the tithe. Do as you will, teach them the folly of fighting us"

The Gorgon bowed. Might as she was, weather witch of the seas, and one of the most powerful assets in the Fishmonger Warlord's ranks, the Crimson Wake was more powerful still, albeit of a different nature. She headed back out to the deck to make ready to join the battle, even as the Crimson Wake called for his mortal officers and gave out orders to all ships to escalate to full battle-stations.

Summoning the elements to her, she prepared to turn the tide of battle. The lightest use of her powers could summon an unnatural fog. Her mere presence helped conceal the Fishmonger raiders from government retribution. What would happen if she poured forth her full focus? In the distance she could see specks approaching, and one particularly high-flying being soaring on in like a bolt of lightning towards the Unbridled.

The Gorgon brought the lightning. Not this Koyama, fluttering in the breeze like a kite. Not these aircraft, birds of steel and fire. Drawing her sword in one hand and gathering mana to her in the other, she put out her hand and enforced her will on the weather. The fog on the beach thickened and darkened, whilst lightning rumbled overhead the position of the Tithe Fleet. 

First it was turbulence, both Koyama and the aircraft striking a wall of wind that felt almost solid. The lead aircraft would not be so lucky, knocked off course, and while the autocannon fire of its guns stitched holes up the Red Royal's hull and killed many crewmen, the bombs would fall short and harmless, all but one which skipped across the surface like a stone and cast a shuddering hole in the ship's bow. The second plane might've been more lucky. Targeting the landing craft, it would sink several of them, the pirates upon the vessels dying in the explosions or drowning in a tangle of wreckage despite the shallow water. As for Koyama, he would be plucked out of the air by a gust of air and smashed into the ocean, as if swatted by an invisible hand.

Edited February 28, 2020 by Fierach

[Xoco 191]

Douglas rolled to the side, and then kicked out the legs of one of the marauders. He stood up, fast, and stabbed the pirate on the ground in the chest in a smooth move, before turning to face the other, his sheathe acting as a secondary blade to parry attacks. He moved aggressively towards the other pirate, his eyes, wide in a state of bloodlust.

"Very well. I see how it is," He said solemnly, his eyes scanning over his opponent.

"I'm going to tear every single one of you wide open. Run my blade from gut to gullet!" He shouted. His blade glinted for a split second, producing a light far brighter than the sun could ever make his blade shine, before bringing it down on the other pirate with such force that it could make a sizable dent in the tank. The blade, propelled by his control of steel was near unstoppable.

Edited February 28, 2020 by Xoco

[FunOnTheBun 71]

A shadow grew from the trench it was stationed at, stretching to the two bodies that lay dead in the sand. Metal foot steps dug deep into the beach soil, pushing up the eight foot tall metal figure. A glossy gauntlet grabbed the hilt of the large steel Ikakalaka sword from the wide back of the metal beast. Sparks popped off the inch thick metal plating, the effects of small guns fire being as effective on the hulking figure as on a war tank. The flat end of the sword was pulled in front of the figure, pointed downwards. The flat piece of metal took many of the shots while the Reaver started to walk, building up speed into an eventual charge toward its opponents. On the charge line, it grabbed its spear from the two bodies, a metal foot crushing a skull of one of the men sending blood splashing onto the sand. The Reaver continued its charge, bashing men with great force or cutting men in two if they got in its way. 

---

---

Cold eyes locked onto its target, one of the ships the pirates had taken to get to land. It didn't know how to drive a boat or any vehicle for that matter, but it will have to do. If it were to reach a boat, the rage of the metal beast would cause it to obliterate any immediate crewmen on board as it searched for a captain or some controls for the metal contraption. 

@Fierach