RE: QUIETUS [S!5] [Round 1: Godsworn Valley]
06-30-2013, 05:48 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-30-2013, 05:49 AM by Anomaly.)
"Where do those tunnels lead, anyway?" Anila looked down at Rachel from her seat on Akroht's chassis, friendly (or maybe sociopathic) smile on her face.
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Bunch of fucking darkness and misery. Why the hell do you care?"
"Dunno, it looked interesting. Some kind of dungeon? A labyrinth, maybe? Could be treasure in there... Ah well! Don't want to be around when the missiles hit." Anila began whistling to herself as she watched the forest grow larger on the horizon.
Rachel stared in equal amounts disgust and disbelief. Did the girl have no comprehension of what she was involved with here? Did she have a complete inability to process death or danger? Was she just really fucking high?
Funny, Rachel thought. Usually she was the crazy one.
"Incoming!" Brother Gelu shouted, suddenly dropping to the ground with the rest of his unit. The three outsiders failed to follow suit. A pitch-black missile shot overhead, its deafening roar barely registering in the ears of the observers before being replaced with an even more deafening boom. Rachel braced against the oncoming shockwave. Anila was sent toppling to the ground.
"Get up and keep moving!" the Iceworlder roared. He couldn't care less that Raxis's army was firing missiles, given that it was the obvious tactical choice and that they had predicted it in enough advance to not be blown into tiny chunks. He marched on without so much as waiting for a response, leaving the troops of Frigidus scrambling to keep up.
Anila sprinted and leaped back onto Akroht's back, much to his annoyance. Meanwhile, she kept on whistling and humming the march away, seemingly ignorant to the craters, the bloody corpses, the ash-streaked debris of vehicles long demolished.
In truth, she was trying not to look at them.
Interlopers.
An emotionless red eye scanned the battle-scarred plains. Seven figures. Four easily-neutralized troops of Frigidus. Two unidentified humans: one not a threat, one potentially dangerous. And, of course, the alien supersoldier.
He'd watched the latter of those wipe out an entire squad of Predators without so much as a dent in his armor. Fortunately for him, he was not a mere Predator.
Designation, H-034. Classification, Hunter. He had no name. The soldiers of Raxis had no need for names. All were expendable.
A pitch-black rifle, various crevices along its surface glowing a blood red, whirred to life in his hands as he sat, crouched in the trees, unseen and undetectable. Behind him, two dozen Predators waited, crouched over a pile of broken Ceracean corpses. The enemies of Raxis would be dead before they had time to learn the error of their ways.
Wizard Jelly, I'm bored.
The entrapped shapeshifter gazed outward through Anila's eyes. The forest drew nearer by the minute, surprisingly intact considering the judicious use of artillery in the vicinity. Couldn't have been much alive in there except the warring soldiers, though. Seemed awfully quiet though. A good place to hide, Wizard Jelly decided.
It was one of the few times the blue blob actively observed its environment beyond the woman it inhabited. Usually it only did so when she was doing something stupid, which, it had to admit, was very frequently. In the meantime, it had been wracking its magical brain-analogue for a solution to Anila's predicament, coming up empty every time. As far as it could tell, though, she didn't have long. It was quite doubtful that she could survive total conversion - the rate of which was increasing exponentially.
Maybe when they were hiding in the peaceful and certainly not dangerous forest up ahead, it'd have more time for thinking. Surely there was something it could do, surely-
Hello, Wizard Jelly? You in there? Anila knocked lightly on the side of her head.
Er, yes, Anila. Is there something you need? Her blissful attitude was disheartening. She had no idea that she was going to die, and he couldn't even think of how to stop it. Damn wizard.
Dunno. There's nothing going on out here. No weird monsters, no cursed artifacts... Anila paused as the group passed a few battle-scarred trees. There's not even anyone trying to kill us!
It would've been extremely well-timed (if unfortunate) if, at that exact moment, Anila and co. were attacked, as is often the case when someone mentions such things. Instead, an awkward silence. Everyone had pretty much stopped talking - in Rachel's case, probably for the best. She seemed the type to get angry easily.
Another couple minutes passed, nothing but the mechanical stomps of Akroht's armor (which mostly drowned out other footsteps) breaking the silence. Then, very suddenly, Akroht was on the ground and Anila was sent flying.
When Anila tried to recall what had happened afterward, she had a difficult time. A handful of events, a series of disjointed snapshots of memory:
- Anila was shot several times.
- A bunch of the black-armored guys popped out of nowhere and opened fire.
- Things started getting warmer.
- Brother Gelu and his men ran for cover - one of them was shot and fell to the ground.
- Akroht stood strong, firing his cannon in a rage. He was blown back by something a second time.
- One in much bulkier armor dropped out of a tree, wielding the biggest gun Anila had ever seen.
- Rachel screamed in fury.
- Anila ran toward Akroht to help.
- Anila tried to run.
- The soldier with the big gun stood over the wounded man, then crushed his head with the butt of his rifle.
- The ground exploded. Anila's lower leg became a bloody mess.
- Disjointed yelling, a lot of dirt and underbrush.
- Pain.
When she woke up, Anila was slumped against a tree, deep in the forest. Akroht, Rachel, and the followers of Frigidus were nowhere to be seen. For once, Anila decided to do the sensible thing and not call for them.
In a smooth motion, Anila leaped to her feet, ignoring her injuries completely. She'd been hurt worse than this before. Once. She took a quick look at her right foot - it had been replaced by an identical one, albeit translucent and blue. Felt pretty normal to her, though. She'd need some new boots later.
Hey, Wizard Jelly, what happened? Are the others okay?
I don't know anything more than you do. You passed out, and I made you run. We're at least a mile into the forest now. Just be glad you're alive.
Anila looked around, clearly worried. Nothing but greenery in any direction.
I hope they're okay.
Picking a completely arbitrary direction, Anila began running, shoving vines and branches aside with her uselessly-dulled "sword". A smoky haze clouded the battle-scarred forest, vainly attempting to choke out the life that remained, the towering trees that refused to fall as countless soldiers had. At least once, Anila tripped over an unseen root or a misplaced rifle and landed face-to-decaying-face with one of the slain. She quickly got up and kept moving. No sense in disturbing the newly-dead - that was one of the few boundaries she preferred not to overstep without a reason more significant than, say, boot-thievery. Besides, her replacement foot was holding up fine.
It really was strange - Gelu had called the forest "contested ground", but it seemed pretty tranquil to her. Aside from the occasional far-off explosion or missile streaking overhead, all was disturbingly serene. And... really boring, actually. She missed Visindi. His obviously-legitimate science was much more interesting than an empty forest. There weren't even any mythical beasts to tame, or trap-filled ruins to explore with reckless abandon.
Another missile rushed overhead. Anila braced her had against the oncoming gust of wind - it hit her directly from the front. Wherever the missiles were launching from, she was heading straight toward it. Now that seemed like an interesting place to go! The god of war's temple, maybe? Anila pushed the ambush out of her mind and ran forward in excitement.
Hold on, Anila! the shapeshifter thought-shouted. It'd been quiet for a while, lost in futile thought.
Anila skidded to a halt. Something wrong?
You're deep in the territory of the omnicidal war god, and you're not looking out for his troops. There are some right ahead of you, which I guess you can't see yet.
Alright, alright. Sure. But we're still going this way, okay?
Like I could stop you anyway, the shapeshifter mumbled.
Silently, Anila crept through the brush, quickly reaching an unseen clearing. A trio of Predators stood by some sort of metallic, armored vehicle, far more advanced than anything Anila had seen before. The open hatch on top beckoned to her. Called her. She knew what had to be done.
Silently, fluidly, Anila slipped between trees, lining herself up with the back of the vehicle. No guns or anything mounted on it - must've just been used to transport the troops. They were far too busy fighting some unseen foe to notice her, thankfully. Anila took a deep breath, then went for it. A sprint, a series of leaps and flips, and a final dive into the hatch, all within seconds.
A series of dim, red screens glowed before her, at the front of the empty vehicle. A bunch of buttons and switches lined the control panel in front of her, but of course she had no idea what any of them did. Maybe Visindi would know... Nah, she could figure it out. A pair of levers, one obviously intended for each hand, pointed at her tantalizingly. And who was she to turn down mysterious, unidentified levers? She gave them both a hearty push.
The last remnants of their foes decimated, Predator squad P-045 turned around. With some dismay, they noted that their armored transport was pulling away without them.
Raxis wasn't going to be happy about this.
That. Was. AWESOME! Anila shouted to her blood. She waited a while, but got no response. Huh. Wizard Jelly was probably just too in awe to speak, and definitely not annoyed or anything.
Anila pounded on the crumpled hatch for a while, eventually resorting to prying it open with her sword. Bits of concrete crumbled around her as she climbed out, sliding down the horribly-deformed remains of the tank she'd expertly piloted, now lodged in the Temple of Raxis's brand-new door. He'd probably thank her later.
The adventurer tiptoed away, the corridor poorly lit by an array of flashing red lights. Even the lightest of footsteps echoed out on the black, reflective tiles - she stuffed her remaining boot into her coat before proceeding onward.
If the Temple of Raxis was one thing, it was massive - the wide hallways extended up into the darkness, no ceilings in sight. Only the occasional bridge or overhang interrupted the darkness. A plethora of gray banners hung from these, each emblazoned with the familiar image of a sword-pierced skull. Dotted along each wall were a series of sliding doors, similar to Visindi's but much less showy.
Anila slipped behind one of the banners as one of the doors gave way to an outpour of soldiers, singlemindedly pursuing the security breach she'd long since abandoned. This was going to get interesting.
"Unacceptable!"
A series of armored figures sat around a rectangular table, lit only by the glow of the massive screens that surrounded it. Tactical maps, camera feeds, and the like provided constant updates on the state of the battle, information vital to most of the room's occupants and completely worthless to their deity.
Their attention was, instead, focused on the screen at the head of the room, plastered with the scowling face of Raxis himself. They were the Strategists, the only followers of the god of war who stayed behind, who never had the opportunity to know conquest and bloodshed firsthand. Raxis's patience for them had always been thin, his respect negligible. These "cowards", as he was quick to call them, were only tolerated because they were necessary. Necessary to command the Hunters and Commanders, necessary for coordinating missile strikes, necessary for en masse deployment of soldiers.
"You mean to tell me that a Hunter, and his entire Predator squad, were wiped out by... by common scum? By a few of Frigidus's men?!" Raxis was furious, not only because of what had happened but because a minute spent talking to the cowards was a minute he was deprived of battle, of glorious bone-breaking and tendon-snapping.
"There were others, sir," the figure at the head of the table replied. "Their presence was unanticipated, and they were far, far stronger than expected. They only suffered minor casualties - a Frigidus soldier killed, and an unaffiliated human girl critically woun-"
"Spare me the details, coward. There was something else you wished to tell me?" The face onscreen glared impatiently.
"Y-yes, sir. You see, not long after the engagement, squadron P-045's Megáli was commandeered by an unknown insurgent. The very same Megáli managed to evade all of the Temple's defenses and ultimately breach the wall. It's been recovered, but we've found no trace of the driver. We can only assume they have infiltrated the Temple - security measures are being taken."
"IDIOTS!" Raxis roared. "Not only have you failed to neutralize the remnants of our oldest enemy, but your incompetence has now brought an intruder into the temple! You will capture them at once, or be executed for treason. I don't have time for you."
"Do not worry, sir. The intruder will be dealt-"
"ACCESS DENIED."
The head Strategist paused midsentence.
"ACCESS IS DENIED."
The War Room had only one entrance, accessible solely by a long series of security doors and heavily-guarded passages. A few loud thumps and some muffled shouting later, the door began to grind open. Each of the Strategists reached for their rifles - unimpressive weapons, intended only as a last resort. Few of them had ever been in battle before. They expected the worst.
Instead, the door opened to reveal a short woman in a wizard hat, smile spread across her face. Around her lay several unconscious guards.
"Hi! Nice temple you've got here. Can you point those guns somewhere else, please?"
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Bunch of fucking darkness and misery. Why the hell do you care?"
"Dunno, it looked interesting. Some kind of dungeon? A labyrinth, maybe? Could be treasure in there... Ah well! Don't want to be around when the missiles hit." Anila began whistling to herself as she watched the forest grow larger on the horizon.
Rachel stared in equal amounts disgust and disbelief. Did the girl have no comprehension of what she was involved with here? Did she have a complete inability to process death or danger? Was she just really fucking high?
Funny, Rachel thought. Usually she was the crazy one.
"Incoming!" Brother Gelu shouted, suddenly dropping to the ground with the rest of his unit. The three outsiders failed to follow suit. A pitch-black missile shot overhead, its deafening roar barely registering in the ears of the observers before being replaced with an even more deafening boom. Rachel braced against the oncoming shockwave. Anila was sent toppling to the ground.
"Get up and keep moving!" the Iceworlder roared. He couldn't care less that Raxis's army was firing missiles, given that it was the obvious tactical choice and that they had predicted it in enough advance to not be blown into tiny chunks. He marched on without so much as waiting for a response, leaving the troops of Frigidus scrambling to keep up.
Anila sprinted and leaped back onto Akroht's back, much to his annoyance. Meanwhile, she kept on whistling and humming the march away, seemingly ignorant to the craters, the bloody corpses, the ash-streaked debris of vehicles long demolished.
In truth, she was trying not to look at them.
- - -
Interlopers.
An emotionless red eye scanned the battle-scarred plains. Seven figures. Four easily-neutralized troops of Frigidus. Two unidentified humans: one not a threat, one potentially dangerous. And, of course, the alien supersoldier.
He'd watched the latter of those wipe out an entire squad of Predators without so much as a dent in his armor. Fortunately for him, he was not a mere Predator.
Designation, H-034. Classification, Hunter. He had no name. The soldiers of Raxis had no need for names. All were expendable.
A pitch-black rifle, various crevices along its surface glowing a blood red, whirred to life in his hands as he sat, crouched in the trees, unseen and undetectable. Behind him, two dozen Predators waited, crouched over a pile of broken Ceracean corpses. The enemies of Raxis would be dead before they had time to learn the error of their ways.
- - -
Wizard Jelly, I'm bored.
The entrapped shapeshifter gazed outward through Anila's eyes. The forest drew nearer by the minute, surprisingly intact considering the judicious use of artillery in the vicinity. Couldn't have been much alive in there except the warring soldiers, though. Seemed awfully quiet though. A good place to hide, Wizard Jelly decided.
It was one of the few times the blue blob actively observed its environment beyond the woman it inhabited. Usually it only did so when she was doing something stupid, which, it had to admit, was very frequently. In the meantime, it had been wracking its magical brain-analogue for a solution to Anila's predicament, coming up empty every time. As far as it could tell, though, she didn't have long. It was quite doubtful that she could survive total conversion - the rate of which was increasing exponentially.
Maybe when they were hiding in the peaceful and certainly not dangerous forest up ahead, it'd have more time for thinking. Surely there was something it could do, surely-
Hello, Wizard Jelly? You in there? Anila knocked lightly on the side of her head.
Er, yes, Anila. Is there something you need? Her blissful attitude was disheartening. She had no idea that she was going to die, and he couldn't even think of how to stop it. Damn wizard.
Dunno. There's nothing going on out here. No weird monsters, no cursed artifacts... Anila paused as the group passed a few battle-scarred trees. There's not even anyone trying to kill us!
It would've been extremely well-timed (if unfortunate) if, at that exact moment, Anila and co. were attacked, as is often the case when someone mentions such things. Instead, an awkward silence. Everyone had pretty much stopped talking - in Rachel's case, probably for the best. She seemed the type to get angry easily.
Another couple minutes passed, nothing but the mechanical stomps of Akroht's armor (which mostly drowned out other footsteps) breaking the silence. Then, very suddenly, Akroht was on the ground and Anila was sent flying.
When Anila tried to recall what had happened afterward, she had a difficult time. A handful of events, a series of disjointed snapshots of memory:
- Anila was shot several times.
- A bunch of the black-armored guys popped out of nowhere and opened fire.
- Things started getting warmer.
- Brother Gelu and his men ran for cover - one of them was shot and fell to the ground.
- Akroht stood strong, firing his cannon in a rage. He was blown back by something a second time.
- One in much bulkier armor dropped out of a tree, wielding the biggest gun Anila had ever seen.
- Rachel screamed in fury.
- Anila ran toward Akroht to help.
- Anila tried to run.
- The soldier with the big gun stood over the wounded man, then crushed his head with the butt of his rifle.
- The ground exploded. Anila's lower leg became a bloody mess.
- Disjointed yelling, a lot of dirt and underbrush.
- Pain.
When she woke up, Anila was slumped against a tree, deep in the forest. Akroht, Rachel, and the followers of Frigidus were nowhere to be seen. For once, Anila decided to do the sensible thing and not call for them.
In a smooth motion, Anila leaped to her feet, ignoring her injuries completely. She'd been hurt worse than this before. Once. She took a quick look at her right foot - it had been replaced by an identical one, albeit translucent and blue. Felt pretty normal to her, though. She'd need some new boots later.
Hey, Wizard Jelly, what happened? Are the others okay?
I don't know anything more than you do. You passed out, and I made you run. We're at least a mile into the forest now. Just be glad you're alive.
Anila looked around, clearly worried. Nothing but greenery in any direction.
I hope they're okay.
Picking a completely arbitrary direction, Anila began running, shoving vines and branches aside with her uselessly-dulled "sword". A smoky haze clouded the battle-scarred forest, vainly attempting to choke out the life that remained, the towering trees that refused to fall as countless soldiers had. At least once, Anila tripped over an unseen root or a misplaced rifle and landed face-to-decaying-face with one of the slain. She quickly got up and kept moving. No sense in disturbing the newly-dead - that was one of the few boundaries she preferred not to overstep without a reason more significant than, say, boot-thievery. Besides, her replacement foot was holding up fine.
It really was strange - Gelu had called the forest "contested ground", but it seemed pretty tranquil to her. Aside from the occasional far-off explosion or missile streaking overhead, all was disturbingly serene. And... really boring, actually. She missed Visindi. His obviously-legitimate science was much more interesting than an empty forest. There weren't even any mythical beasts to tame, or trap-filled ruins to explore with reckless abandon.
Another missile rushed overhead. Anila braced her had against the oncoming gust of wind - it hit her directly from the front. Wherever the missiles were launching from, she was heading straight toward it. Now that seemed like an interesting place to go! The god of war's temple, maybe? Anila pushed the ambush out of her mind and ran forward in excitement.
Hold on, Anila! the shapeshifter thought-shouted. It'd been quiet for a while, lost in futile thought.
Anila skidded to a halt. Something wrong?
You're deep in the territory of the omnicidal war god, and you're not looking out for his troops. There are some right ahead of you, which I guess you can't see yet.
Alright, alright. Sure. But we're still going this way, okay?
Like I could stop you anyway, the shapeshifter mumbled.
Silently, Anila crept through the brush, quickly reaching an unseen clearing. A trio of Predators stood by some sort of metallic, armored vehicle, far more advanced than anything Anila had seen before. The open hatch on top beckoned to her. Called her. She knew what had to be done.
Silently, fluidly, Anila slipped between trees, lining herself up with the back of the vehicle. No guns or anything mounted on it - must've just been used to transport the troops. They were far too busy fighting some unseen foe to notice her, thankfully. Anila took a deep breath, then went for it. A sprint, a series of leaps and flips, and a final dive into the hatch, all within seconds.
A series of dim, red screens glowed before her, at the front of the empty vehicle. A bunch of buttons and switches lined the control panel in front of her, but of course she had no idea what any of them did. Maybe Visindi would know... Nah, she could figure it out. A pair of levers, one obviously intended for each hand, pointed at her tantalizingly. And who was she to turn down mysterious, unidentified levers? She gave them both a hearty push.
The last remnants of their foes decimated, Predator squad P-045 turned around. With some dismay, they noted that their armored transport was pulling away without them.
Raxis wasn't going to be happy about this.
- - -
That. Was. AWESOME! Anila shouted to her blood. She waited a while, but got no response. Huh. Wizard Jelly was probably just too in awe to speak, and definitely not annoyed or anything.
Anila pounded on the crumpled hatch for a while, eventually resorting to prying it open with her sword. Bits of concrete crumbled around her as she climbed out, sliding down the horribly-deformed remains of the tank she'd expertly piloted, now lodged in the Temple of Raxis's brand-new door. He'd probably thank her later.
The adventurer tiptoed away, the corridor poorly lit by an array of flashing red lights. Even the lightest of footsteps echoed out on the black, reflective tiles - she stuffed her remaining boot into her coat before proceeding onward.
If the Temple of Raxis was one thing, it was massive - the wide hallways extended up into the darkness, no ceilings in sight. Only the occasional bridge or overhang interrupted the darkness. A plethora of gray banners hung from these, each emblazoned with the familiar image of a sword-pierced skull. Dotted along each wall were a series of sliding doors, similar to Visindi's but much less showy.
Anila slipped behind one of the banners as one of the doors gave way to an outpour of soldiers, singlemindedly pursuing the security breach she'd long since abandoned. This was going to get interesting.
- - -
"Unacceptable!"
A series of armored figures sat around a rectangular table, lit only by the glow of the massive screens that surrounded it. Tactical maps, camera feeds, and the like provided constant updates on the state of the battle, information vital to most of the room's occupants and completely worthless to their deity.
Their attention was, instead, focused on the screen at the head of the room, plastered with the scowling face of Raxis himself. They were the Strategists, the only followers of the god of war who stayed behind, who never had the opportunity to know conquest and bloodshed firsthand. Raxis's patience for them had always been thin, his respect negligible. These "cowards", as he was quick to call them, were only tolerated because they were necessary. Necessary to command the Hunters and Commanders, necessary for coordinating missile strikes, necessary for en masse deployment of soldiers.
"You mean to tell me that a Hunter, and his entire Predator squad, were wiped out by... by common scum? By a few of Frigidus's men?!" Raxis was furious, not only because of what had happened but because a minute spent talking to the cowards was a minute he was deprived of battle, of glorious bone-breaking and tendon-snapping.
"There were others, sir," the figure at the head of the table replied. "Their presence was unanticipated, and they were far, far stronger than expected. They only suffered minor casualties - a Frigidus soldier killed, and an unaffiliated human girl critically woun-"
"Spare me the details, coward. There was something else you wished to tell me?" The face onscreen glared impatiently.
"Y-yes, sir. You see, not long after the engagement, squadron P-045's Megáli was commandeered by an unknown insurgent. The very same Megáli managed to evade all of the Temple's defenses and ultimately breach the wall. It's been recovered, but we've found no trace of the driver. We can only assume they have infiltrated the Temple - security measures are being taken."
"IDIOTS!" Raxis roared. "Not only have you failed to neutralize the remnants of our oldest enemy, but your incompetence has now brought an intruder into the temple! You will capture them at once, or be executed for treason. I don't have time for you."
"Do not worry, sir. The intruder will be dealt-"
"ACCESS DENIED."
The head Strategist paused midsentence.
"ACCESS IS DENIED."
The War Room had only one entrance, accessible solely by a long series of security doors and heavily-guarded passages. A few loud thumps and some muffled shouting later, the door began to grind open. Each of the Strategists reached for their rifles - unimpressive weapons, intended only as a last resort. Few of them had ever been in battle before. They expected the worst.
Instead, the door opened to reveal a short woman in a wizard hat, smile spread across her face. Around her lay several unconscious guards.
"Hi! Nice temple you've got here. Can you point those guns somewhere else, please?"