December 21, 2012
Cog was dreaming.
He saw himself standing alone on top of a hill. Rain came down in droves and pattered onto the his gleaming bronze colored plating. A shield was strapped to his left arm. A ornately decorated Hand and a Half sword rested in the palm of his right hand. Both items were held loosely at his side. Storm clouds battled for domination of the steel grey sky, flinging troops at each other that produced the crash and boom of thunder and lightning as they fought...
As the Storm inched closer and closer to where Cog stood, he got the feeling that there were people behind him. But he could not move his head to look behind him. He slowly brought his shield up and settled into a combat stance, as if stopping the Storm's advance. He got the sense that he had to protect the people behind him... at all costs...
He did not know why... but a smile of relief appeared on his metallic lips....
Cog's eyelids slowly slid open.
"Where am I?" He groaned, his deep metallic voice reverberating around the small, dark, chamber. His speech was stilted and slow, as if it came from one still learning how to speak. He was on a crumbling stone pedestal in a kneeling position in the center of a circular chamber. Four doors led off in different directions and figures wrapped in cloth were lined in nooks in the walls.
He held a Shield in his left hand, and a hand and a half sword in his right. Just like in his dreams, except the sword and shield were of a different design and were both corroded and worn. The Hand and a Half sword broken leaving only about 2 feet of rusted metal attached to the hilt.
He groaned and stood up slowly. His body was covered in a fine layer of dust and dirt, through the filth however, strange green runes were beginning to glow, giving the dark room a soft emerald hue. He sheathed his sword into a battered leather sheathe at his side, and slung his shield onto his back. As he did so he watched his hands, fascinated by the gleaming bronze palm shaped like an armored gauntlet.
What am I? He though silently. Then an even scarier thought entered his head, Who am I?
The idea that he did not even know his own name, scared Cog and he took a step off the pedestal. He stumbled and crashed into the ground with a CLONK! He cried out, then slowly picked himself up and dusted himself. He took a few stiff, tentative steps towards one of the figures laying in the nooks.
Lifting the layer of cloth that covered it's face, Cog was horrified to discover a human face, skeletal and plagued by rot and decay. He took a few steps back and looked around with realization. This was no room... it was a tomb!
He had to get out of here! Cog chose a passage way and started to run, stopping only to take a look back at the stone pedestal with wonder. Who could have left him there?
He then turned and continued to run... seeking to get away from the corpses...
He emerged out of the catacombs, into a busy street. He had passed more corpses then he could count. They made Cog sad for some reason. He did not know them, but he felt as if he had failed them in some way.
He grunted as he pulled his way out of a manhole. He was in the middle of a street and humans sat in cafes lining the road. They froze as soon as Cog had poked his head out of the manhole, mouths frozen in mid conversation and mid bite. A single feminine voice screamed out, "MONSTRO! MONSTRO!"
And with that... all hell broke loose.
"Si tratta di un robot!"
"Siamo sotto attacco! "
"E 'il cinese!"
Voice clamored for attention as the humans dove for cover, screaming and overturning tables, spilling their drinks and meals onto the white table clothes.
At the far end of the cafe, two uniformed men bolted up from their coffee and pointed their guns at Cog, "Polizia! Metti le mani dietro la testa!"
Cog backed away and slowly put up both hands in a defensive gesture, "Please! I mean you no harm!" He yelled desperately, trying to calm the humans.
"Sta per raggiungere la sua arma! SPARAGLI! SPARAGLI!"
The two men opened fire with their guns, sending bullets whizzing toward Cog as he turned and ran. The bullets thudded into the shield on his back, easily piercing through and hitting Cog in the back. He grunted as he was hit one... two... three... four times but continued running.
He looked back, the two uniformed men were running after him, firing with their hand guns. One of the men was shouting into what appeared to be a small black box on his shoulder. Unfortunately as his head was turned, a car wagon hit Cog sending him flying over the hood and onto the windshield. He groaned as he rolled off the car and stood up, shaking his head to get rid of all the broken glass. What trickery is this? A horseless wagon???
Inside the car, a young woman opened her mouth to scream. Cog held up his hands in apology as he ran off, "I'm sorry!" He called out over his shoulder. He continued to run as cars swerved and squealed around him. Angry Italian drivers honked their horns, made rude gestures, or shouted profanity out the window as they narrowly avoided colliding with Cog.
Cog didn't care however, and only focused on putting one iron clad foot in front of the other...