RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)
06-16-2013, 06:03 AM
The ocean turned from a smooth, placid surface of water to a cacophony of waves in a matter of seconds. The ball had rammed into an outcropping in the ocean, what might have been a buttress ensuring the steadiness and longevity of the tower. Like an iceberg, this small tip that barely breached the surface was only the topmost portion of a massive endeavor. The castle below carried the shock wave of coral slamming against coral miles under the water, arousing the few not working on rebuilding their already tattered home. These few were those unable to work, the mothers and their children, the sick and weary. But among them, there were a few able-bodied specimens. These were the ones who jolted out of their chambers and up to confront the source of the clamor.
Coralmancy came quickly to the majority of the ocean dwellers. Even after their first year of life, a young child was expected to be competent enough in the art to carve out basic patterns and letters into the living stone, meaning they were ready to begin their education. But the odd few were weak in the art, only able to command the material to go where they willed it. As this was so trite a power in the eyes of the master architects, these children had a different destiny. They would hone themselves under the water, training to command the rock not for aesthetics or majesty but for brute force.
And having heard another part of their masterpiece had come tumbling down, the Coralriders assembled a scouting party.
"Ka-sploosh!" Kyle muttered to himself remorselessly, giving in to the fantasy of being a barbarian released into a wonderfully destructible environment.
Krugrug peered down toward the site of the crash. The water had a pained look about it, still writhing from the huge volume of liquid the ball had displaced. Barely visible from this height was the boulder glimmering under the surface, having come to rest in a bed of rubble that was once the base of the tower. A proud, lighthearted smile shone on the orc's face, like he wasn't aware he'd ruined someone's hard work for little to no reason.
But then spots of the water rose up, as if to greet their assailant. Krugrug saw the little pink drones lift themselves from the sea, hard to make out from the great distance but obligingly coming closer for the orc's convenience.
The troops ascending to the top of the tower came in two flavors it seemed: those clinging to the sides, shuffling soggily but sturdily upwards like spiders up a water spout, and several that hovered into the sky, machines that looked like squids that suddenly decided to take to the air. Kyle lazily envisioned their nuances, that the tower was lined with trails of grooves invisible to the untrained eye, allowing the machines to climb with ease or that the gliders hovered in the air and shot water back down into the sea to elevate. And yet Krugrug saw the contraptions with his own eyes, and the only thoughts to cross his mind were "Bird" and "Bug". And "Smash", but in all honestly, that neuron never stopped firing.
Krugrug retracted his head out of sight from the first spider rider, who was warily nearing the top of the pillar. He readied his hard wooden club and in another universe, Kyle cleared his throat in anticipation of the first line of the day, making sure his voice would sound appropriately rough and over-emphatic.
As the merman's vehicle hoisted itself off onto the safety of the platform, Kyle exhaled into the microphone, shouting "KRUGRUG BASHES FISH-MAN!"
The club connected with what would be the head of the vehicle, pushing it back towards the open air the sphere had found not minutes ago. The machine's pointed claws skittered helplessly against the smooth, groove-less roof of the tower until gravity ripped it away and down for a long fall into the depths.
Krugrug doubled over in laughter, already confident in his conquest of the weak little fish people.
And then his victory was cut short by the wet whirring of the flying machine rising to meet him. Krugrug stared blankly into the nozzle being focused on him. Prone on the floor and instinctively knowing that he wasn't about to dodge this, Krugrug let himself get blasted off of the pillar by a surge of water and plummeted towards the surging mass of anger and confusion his previous actions had caused.
Coralmancy came quickly to the majority of the ocean dwellers. Even after their first year of life, a young child was expected to be competent enough in the art to carve out basic patterns and letters into the living stone, meaning they were ready to begin their education. But the odd few were weak in the art, only able to command the material to go where they willed it. As this was so trite a power in the eyes of the master architects, these children had a different destiny. They would hone themselves under the water, training to command the rock not for aesthetics or majesty but for brute force.
And having heard another part of their masterpiece had come tumbling down, the Coralriders assembled a scouting party.
"Ka-sploosh!" Kyle muttered to himself remorselessly, giving in to the fantasy of being a barbarian released into a wonderfully destructible environment.
Krugrug peered down toward the site of the crash. The water had a pained look about it, still writhing from the huge volume of liquid the ball had displaced. Barely visible from this height was the boulder glimmering under the surface, having come to rest in a bed of rubble that was once the base of the tower. A proud, lighthearted smile shone on the orc's face, like he wasn't aware he'd ruined someone's hard work for little to no reason.
But then spots of the water rose up, as if to greet their assailant. Krugrug saw the little pink drones lift themselves from the sea, hard to make out from the great distance but obligingly coming closer for the orc's convenience.
The troops ascending to the top of the tower came in two flavors it seemed: those clinging to the sides, shuffling soggily but sturdily upwards like spiders up a water spout, and several that hovered into the sky, machines that looked like squids that suddenly decided to take to the air. Kyle lazily envisioned their nuances, that the tower was lined with trails of grooves invisible to the untrained eye, allowing the machines to climb with ease or that the gliders hovered in the air and shot water back down into the sea to elevate. And yet Krugrug saw the contraptions with his own eyes, and the only thoughts to cross his mind were "Bird" and "Bug". And "Smash", but in all honestly, that neuron never stopped firing.
Krugrug retracted his head out of sight from the first spider rider, who was warily nearing the top of the pillar. He readied his hard wooden club and in another universe, Kyle cleared his throat in anticipation of the first line of the day, making sure his voice would sound appropriately rough and over-emphatic.
As the merman's vehicle hoisted itself off onto the safety of the platform, Kyle exhaled into the microphone, shouting "KRUGRUG BASHES FISH-MAN!"
The club connected with what would be the head of the vehicle, pushing it back towards the open air the sphere had found not minutes ago. The machine's pointed claws skittered helplessly against the smooth, groove-less roof of the tower until gravity ripped it away and down for a long fall into the depths.
Krugrug doubled over in laughter, already confident in his conquest of the weak little fish people.
And then his victory was cut short by the wet whirring of the flying machine rising to meet him. Krugrug stared blankly into the nozzle being focused on him. Prone on the floor and instinctively knowing that he wasn't about to dodge this, Krugrug let himself get blasted off of the pillar by a surge of water and plummeted towards the surging mass of anger and confusion his previous actions had caused.