Re: QUIETUS [S!5] [Round 1: Godsworn Valley]
04-21-2013, 05:40 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by One.
Arokht snarled, raising his cannon arm. Cold blue light danced on its surface. He wasn’t sure how he’d fight this manifold monster, but by the Twin Gods he was willing to try.
How do you fight something like Sonora, said Arokht’s more rational side. It has no definite shape. It can be anywhere it wants to be.
Shut up, said Arokht’s more emotional side, I will kill it.
The iceworlder stood motionless as his rage and his logic fought for dominance. Then, with a twitch of his arm, his subzero cannon fired--not at Sonora’s serpentine avatar, but into the darkness deeper within the cavern. The freezing beam radiated such intense cold that just being near it chilled one to the bone. Anila shivered. Sonora sang.
“Global warming ain’t got nothing on this chick...”
The iceworlder fumed, struggling to contain his anger. The loss of one of his guide-underlings was acceptable, he reasoned. He still had three more, though it seemed the chaplain was the only one who mattered. Besides, they were aliens. Who cared if an alien died?
A horrible realization dawned on Arokht.
Squashing his epiphany before he could think about it too much, the iceworlder turned his attention to Rachel--the one that made sense when it spoke. “No more frivolity. You, with Sonora, must make alliance to me.”
Rachel almost laughed. “If you want me to buddy up with you, good fucking luck. I’ve had enough of gods and monsters. You’re on your own.”
“Unacceptable. Alliance is priority.” Arokht’s voice bordered on the subsonic. “Your cooperation is paramount.”
“You heard me, right? I said no,” growled the girl, the David to an armored Goliath. A harsh glow rose from her body. “Now get the hell away from me or I burn you to a crisp.”
The iceworlder’s stance shifted. Bringing his colossal body lower to the ground, Arokht prepared to lunge. “My armor will protect. Your armor is deficient. Cooperate or I break every limb in your--”
“Come on, how’s she supposed to say yes when you haven’t even told her what you need her for?”
Four pairs of eyes (and one quadruple set) turned towards Anila, carefree as ever. The silence would have been complete, were it not for Sonora’s soft, ceaseless crooning.
“...I need you like a lighthouse on a coast, like the Father and the Son need the Holy Ghost...”
“We’re gonna kill the Outsider!”
More silence. Brother Gelu looked from figure to figure, fidgeting nervously. His two surviving soldiers remained as placid as ever.
This time, Rachel did laugh. There was no humor in it--only exasperation and disbelief. “And how are we supposed to do that? In case you haven’t noticed, it dragged us here across whole damn universes. God knows what else it can do. You have no idea what you’re up against.”
She swept her arms around in a gesture that seemed to encompass not only those within the cave, but also everybody outside of it: to the other, absent ‘contestants’, to the warring armies, to the gods themselves.
“None of us do.”
“So be it,” replied Arokht.
“If I die because of the Outsider, I die fighting it,” he thundered. “I will not obey its whims. Neither will you.”
“It wants us to kill each other,” continued the iceworlder. “Normally I would do so, with immense pleasure. But this is not normal. And I do not take orders from aliens,” he said, spitting out the word like a curse.
“I will not fight. You will not fight. The Outsider wants us to die. None will. We will not obey, and we will force it into the open. And in the open I will kill it.”
It was at this point that the long-suffering Brother Gelu decided to interrupt.
“Begging your pardon, great lords, but, er, I suggest that we move somewhere else.”
He shrank beneath Arokht’s and Rachel’s glares. Breaking into a conversation between beings that could kill you in a heartbeat was never a good idea. “No disrespect intended, but, ah, our approach may have been noticed by other forces, and we Frostsworn are rather unpopular this side of the battlefield.”
If the chaplain were still capable of sweating, he would have done so. Unfortunately, the faithful of the Church of Frigidus tended to start losing bodily functions as they rose in power.
“Raxis undoubtedly knows something just wiped out one of his squads single-handedly, so they’ll want to make sure it doesn't do any more harm,” continued Gelu, desperately trying to keep another awkward silence from descending. “They’ll send a Makhê if we’re lucky. A missile strike if we aren’t. We must leave before that happens.”
He fumbled with one of the pouches on his midriff. Arokht looked on, utterly inscrutable to the chaplain. But since the armored demon hadn’t butchered him for disrespect yet, Brother Gelu figured he was doing something right.
“Here,” said the chaplain, unfolding a somewhat battered map. Its surface was covered in symbols and lines that neither Arokht nor Rachel could make any sense of. Gelu knelt, spreading the map on the floor. He pointed at a blob of red stripes. “We’re here, I think. Near the edge of Raxis territory, but the lines have probably changed in the last twelve hours. Still, unfavorable conditions.”
“But...there’s a forest over here,” he said, moving a finger to a long swath of dark green. “Contested ground, but that just means Raxis guerillas’ll be too busy fighting Ceraceans or something to seek us out. It would make an excellent refuge.”
A huge, four-fingered hand shoved him to the ground. Lumbering forward, Arokht seized the map in his secondary arms. His triangular head tilted as he examined it. Though the iceworlder couldn’t read the map's symbols, the geography it showed was as clear as day. The chaplain had brought up a good point: Raxis would undoubtedly make a second attempt to kill him. A being of Arokht’s power must not be allowed to survive, so close to Raxis territory. And if the god of war intended to kill him, they wouldn’t waste soldiers assaulting an easily defensible position. They would use artillery to collapse the cavern mouth, either crushing the iceworlder or trapping him inside should he stay within. But the forest provided cover. The thick canopy would hide him from Raxis's targeting systems, and Arokht’s own sensors would easily detect foes waiting in ambush.
He might even find some of the other ‘contestants’ there. Who knew?
“Very well,” rumbled the iceworlder. “We march.”
He cast a look at Rachel and--no, Sonora had vanished again--and stated, “You follow, unless you want to die when the missiles come.”
Arokht tossed the map back to Gelu and trudged outside.
Arokht snarled, raising his cannon arm. Cold blue light danced on its surface. He wasn’t sure how he’d fight this manifold monster, but by the Twin Gods he was willing to try.
How do you fight something like Sonora, said Arokht’s more rational side. It has no definite shape. It can be anywhere it wants to be.
Shut up, said Arokht’s more emotional side, I will kill it.
The iceworlder stood motionless as his rage and his logic fought for dominance. Then, with a twitch of his arm, his subzero cannon fired--not at Sonora’s serpentine avatar, but into the darkness deeper within the cavern. The freezing beam radiated such intense cold that just being near it chilled one to the bone. Anila shivered. Sonora sang.
“Global warming ain’t got nothing on this chick...”
The iceworlder fumed, struggling to contain his anger. The loss of one of his guide-underlings was acceptable, he reasoned. He still had three more, though it seemed the chaplain was the only one who mattered. Besides, they were aliens. Who cared if an alien died?
A horrible realization dawned on Arokht.
Squashing his epiphany before he could think about it too much, the iceworlder turned his attention to Rachel--the one that made sense when it spoke. “No more frivolity. You, with Sonora, must make alliance to me.”
Rachel almost laughed. “If you want me to buddy up with you, good fucking luck. I’ve had enough of gods and monsters. You’re on your own.”
“Unacceptable. Alliance is priority.” Arokht’s voice bordered on the subsonic. “Your cooperation is paramount.”
“You heard me, right? I said no,” growled the girl, the David to an armored Goliath. A harsh glow rose from her body. “Now get the hell away from me or I burn you to a crisp.”
The iceworlder’s stance shifted. Bringing his colossal body lower to the ground, Arokht prepared to lunge. “My armor will protect. Your armor is deficient. Cooperate or I break every limb in your--”
“Come on, how’s she supposed to say yes when you haven’t even told her what you need her for?”
Four pairs of eyes (and one quadruple set) turned towards Anila, carefree as ever. The silence would have been complete, were it not for Sonora’s soft, ceaseless crooning.
“...I need you like a lighthouse on a coast, like the Father and the Son need the Holy Ghost...”
“We’re gonna kill the Outsider!”
More silence. Brother Gelu looked from figure to figure, fidgeting nervously. His two surviving soldiers remained as placid as ever.
This time, Rachel did laugh. There was no humor in it--only exasperation and disbelief. “And how are we supposed to do that? In case you haven’t noticed, it dragged us here across whole damn universes. God knows what else it can do. You have no idea what you’re up against.”
She swept her arms around in a gesture that seemed to encompass not only those within the cave, but also everybody outside of it: to the other, absent ‘contestants’, to the warring armies, to the gods themselves.
“None of us do.”
“So be it,” replied Arokht.
“If I die because of the Outsider, I die fighting it,” he thundered. “I will not obey its whims. Neither will you.”
“It wants us to kill each other,” continued the iceworlder. “Normally I would do so, with immense pleasure. But this is not normal. And I do not take orders from aliens,” he said, spitting out the word like a curse.
“I will not fight. You will not fight. The Outsider wants us to die. None will. We will not obey, and we will force it into the open. And in the open I will kill it.”
It was at this point that the long-suffering Brother Gelu decided to interrupt.
“Begging your pardon, great lords, but, er, I suggest that we move somewhere else.”
He shrank beneath Arokht’s and Rachel’s glares. Breaking into a conversation between beings that could kill you in a heartbeat was never a good idea. “No disrespect intended, but, ah, our approach may have been noticed by other forces, and we Frostsworn are rather unpopular this side of the battlefield.”
If the chaplain were still capable of sweating, he would have done so. Unfortunately, the faithful of the Church of Frigidus tended to start losing bodily functions as they rose in power.
“Raxis undoubtedly knows something just wiped out one of his squads single-handedly, so they’ll want to make sure it doesn't do any more harm,” continued Gelu, desperately trying to keep another awkward silence from descending. “They’ll send a Makhê if we’re lucky. A missile strike if we aren’t. We must leave before that happens.”
He fumbled with one of the pouches on his midriff. Arokht looked on, utterly inscrutable to the chaplain. But since the armored demon hadn’t butchered him for disrespect yet, Brother Gelu figured he was doing something right.
“Here,” said the chaplain, unfolding a somewhat battered map. Its surface was covered in symbols and lines that neither Arokht nor Rachel could make any sense of. Gelu knelt, spreading the map on the floor. He pointed at a blob of red stripes. “We’re here, I think. Near the edge of Raxis territory, but the lines have probably changed in the last twelve hours. Still, unfavorable conditions.”
“But...there’s a forest over here,” he said, moving a finger to a long swath of dark green. “Contested ground, but that just means Raxis guerillas’ll be too busy fighting Ceraceans or something to seek us out. It would make an excellent refuge.”
A huge, four-fingered hand shoved him to the ground. Lumbering forward, Arokht seized the map in his secondary arms. His triangular head tilted as he examined it. Though the iceworlder couldn’t read the map's symbols, the geography it showed was as clear as day. The chaplain had brought up a good point: Raxis would undoubtedly make a second attempt to kill him. A being of Arokht’s power must not be allowed to survive, so close to Raxis territory. And if the god of war intended to kill him, they wouldn’t waste soldiers assaulting an easily defensible position. They would use artillery to collapse the cavern mouth, either crushing the iceworlder or trapping him inside should he stay within. But the forest provided cover. The thick canopy would hide him from Raxis's targeting systems, and Arokht’s own sensors would easily detect foes waiting in ambush.
He might even find some of the other ‘contestants’ there. Who knew?
“Very well,” rumbled the iceworlder. “We march.”
He cast a look at Rachel and--no, Sonora had vanished again--and stated, “You follow, unless you want to die when the missiles come.”
Arokht tossed the map back to Gelu and trudged outside.