[IC] The Lion's Roar: New Order

[Lord Santa]

A loud drum beat shook Gilbert's unconscious mind out of the blissful hold of sleep and into the soft and mushy cold world. GIlbert blinked his eyes open slowly for the second time today and found himself on the ground. The real ground, this time. It was good to feel the ground beneath his body, but it was a bit too soft to lay there for too long.

Gilbert got up slowly, moving himself out of the shallow indent his body had apparently made in the ground. He shook the dirt off himself and picked up his greatsword which conveniently sat next to him.

"Well, you've had better mornings..." Gilbert said to himself, dusting off his greatsword. "But you've certainly had worse."

Dusting done, he looked around at his surroundings. Gilbert momentarily wondered where he was. Then another drum beat sounded and Gilbert winced slightly. That stuff was loud. Blue lights filled the air and focused to a point in the distance. Gilbert was curious as to what it was. Then, he looked down and recognised one of the bodies next to him and bent down to shake her awake.

"Hey, Captain!" Gilbert said, poking the prone form of Veela. "Wake up! Serious stuff just went down!"

[Aphelion]

Shara's mind crept awake before the rest of her body could fully respond to the fact that she was still alive, and she remained stiffly laying on top of whatever it was that she landed on with her eyes shut. Beneath her, was it the flesh of something or someone? Was that fur or very plush grass? Bullocks... what in the everloving spirits just happened? She was incredibly sore, she realized as she wiggled her feet to make sure that her legs were still functional. A sting of pain made her wince. Shara peeked one of her dark eyes open, and was greeted by the still slumbering face of Atlas. Apparently he had broken her fall, along with.... Balazar!

Shara jerked away from them suddenly, and yelped in pain as she landed on firmly on her bottom. Her right leg had a rather nasty looking gash running up the side of it, about a foot in length. “Fff...” She bit her lip as she examined it. It wasn't going to be life threatening if she could manage to sterilize it, but it was going to limit her ability to walk for the present. Her lips and eyes went into a “O” shape as a realization hit her. “Oh my god my baby!” She cried out suddenly, her head swiveling this way and that to take in her surroundings. She was looking for her bike, but what met her eyes was shocking.

Here and there there were corpses... no, only some of the people were dead. It sent a shiver up her spine just looking at some of the mangled bodies. Battle was never her forte, she strayed from missions involving it as much as possible, but sometimes avoiding it altogether was impossible. Shara touched the blood-stained face of a nearby corpse of a mercenary, a female not much younger than herself that she didn't recognize, and closed the mercenary's eyes. “Spirits guide their essence to the otherworld, and grant them peace.” She touched her fingers to her heart, then to her forehead as she looked into the sky.

After a moment of solace, she turned her attentions to the odd lights and circuits. Not far away, there was a gigantic... Mord? She knew that they didn't have one on board her ship. An enemy then. It was certainly sobering, to see a hunk of metal and muscle so large it could squash her without much thought, without ever needing to use that greatsword it held. Running from the Mord was also not an option with her leg, and she couldn't just leave her crew mates behind, defenseless while they were just hardly waking up.

One other option left, then. Pure honesty, may the spirits willing it would help her here. “Hey there, um, big … guy?” She strained her eyes before saying the last bit, trying to make sure she was hitting the right mark. “It looks like we're in pretty dire circumstances... Wanna call a truce? I can imagine about a thousand reasons you wouldn't want to, but...” She sighed and held her leg out to show Gilbert if he were to look over. “I can't really defend myself like this, let alone hurt any one else even if I cared to. I'm Shara by the way, and I would be pleased to meet you if this were a more auspicious occasion.”

While she spoke, she placed her hand on Balazar's arm and began to lightly pull on one of his hairs, trying to rouse the Baraki from his slumber. If this went badly... well, hopefully it didn't. Waking him up would be one step further in figuring out where they were and what was happening.

[Lone Wanderer]

19th of June, maybe?
Unknown

Slowly, the inky blackness of the abyss began to fade away, but remaining ever present, shrouding the corners of the mind. In its stead, first came thoughts. Last Balazar knew, he was manning a harpoon gun about to fire, the "captains" voice shouting above the din. Mountains of thorns. A wave of power, threatening to tear the ship apart. And then the drop into the dark awaiting below, ready to swallow us whole. Then he could feel. He felt rough, or was he always like this? His thoughts disconnected and forming nothing. A pain crept it's way along his left side. It felt a dull pain and he ached. A weight bare itself across the plate on his back, and he could feel the heat of another body on his left. He could feel the side of his face and snout against the ground. Unmoving, real ground, they were no longer in the air. He felt he could open his eyes, but the darkness beckoned him into their embrace. He could just sleep. Suddenly the weight across his back lifted with a jerk, and the inky dark began to crawl back in.
"Spirits guide their essence to the otherworld, and grant them peace" He heard as his thoughts faded...

Everything came tumbling when he felt something on his arm. Something pulling his fur. His eyes opened, the inky darkness was gone now, at least in his mind but he remained still for a second, listening. He could hear a voice, Sharas voice and close. He sensed panic in her voice. Breaking any illusions of sleep, Balazar's hand shot out at the whatever was touching him and grabbed it. He looked up to see Shara kneeling over him, in his hand he held her wrist. Immediately, he loosened his grip but held on as he got his feet underneath him and tried to stand. A white, searing pain shot through along his left side. He grimaced as he stood up, putting some of his weight on Shira as he looked down at his wound. A rather large shard of metal was embedded in his left shoulder. The shard had pierced the plate and blood was seeping from the wound. Moving this arm would be hell. Removing his weight from Shira, he looked her over, noticing the gash along her leg.
"Lean on me if you have to." He spoke simply. As he gazed around at his surroundings for the first time. Shara must have been talking to someone. Bodies lay scattered along the ground they found themselves on, pieces of metal and wood dotted the landscape with them. Then he noticed the hulking suit of plate ahead of them. He let out a growl, few times had he seen a Mord and few times where they friendly. It was impossible to tell their intentions behind a face of plate, and he certainly hadn't seen one on board their ship.

His right hand instinctively went to the sword hilt in it's scabbard on his hip, relieved to find it still there. He watched the stranger carefully, awaiting their next move. It appeared it was crouching over a body. He glanced around at the immediate vicinity, noticing for the first time the ashen on the ground next to them.
"Wake him up, we may need him." He said somewhat quietly as he kept his eyes on the Mord.

[Lord Santa]

"Hm? Oh." Gil said, noticing the pair of people who'd woken up, an Oxidal and a Baraki.

He briefly stopped poking the captain to give a small wave to the pair and then went back to poking the captain. Beside her initial movement, she didn't seem to be waking up any time soon. Gilbert left her alone, because she would probably wake up on her own. That would probably apply to the others, though he only saw one other person and her dog... Where was the other passenger?

Gilbert shrugged and stood up.
They're probably fine. Gilbert thought.
They probably would be fine, anyway. They had some small wounds, but it wasn't anything life threatening. He was no doctor, but he figured it would be alright.

"So, Hello anyway." Gilbert said, calling out to the pair of conscious people. "Uh, this may sound a bit rude, but... Who are you?"

[Desire]

Ugh, my head is pounding...

There was sort of a weight on Atlas's chest, and he groaned softly as it had been moved off of him. It felt like a person... But why would there be someone on top of him? Although whoever it was wasn't very heavy, which is good for his sake. He also sensed something large and... hairy, next to him. Probably one of the beast mercenaries that were on the ship. But how did they get all there? All he remembered was being in the closet before he got banged around, phasing through the ship and slamming into something before being knocked out. It felt like he had a few broken ribs, and there was a gash on his head that slowly trickled blood.

After several minutes of laying there, half-conscious, he heard voices around him. A female one, and a gruff, low-voiced male of sorts. And they were fairly close to him. Where the hell was he? Soon after the figure next to him rose, also speaking out. Atlas figured with all the commotion, he might as well check what was going on. He opened his eyes, pushing himself up to a sitting position with his wings before taking a look around. It was dim, say for a large blaring light in the distance, although he couldn't make out what it was. There were bodies littered everywhere, some alive... maybe, some not so much. It appeared that the Oxidal and beast man was in front of him, the Mord standing there, menacing looking with sword in hand. He had no clue what he was, or who, but he didn't care. He's seen scarier.

"What the hell is going on?" Atlas asked, trying to get up as he clutched is ribs in pain, biting his lip. This wasn't going to be fun.

[NarcissisticPotato]

18th of June
Northern Tanjen
Lost in the Darkness

The dull echo of pain through her body dragged her from her dreams. Suppressing a groan, her eyes flicked open and were greeted with a veil of darkness hiding the previously bright sky. It took a few moments for her senses to adjust but in the meantime, she noticed one hulking figure over her. It was only a few seconds later that she finally realised that it was the Mord and he was talking to someone else. She sounded female but didn't carry that heavy accent which the Erdevar on her ship boasted of which meant that she must have been from the other. Oh Gods! Her ship!

Rolling into a crawling position, she tried to peek through the shadows and pick out the silhouette of the Sundancer but it was completely lost to her. She could see the smouldering ruins of one ship which she judged to be the ship that was hunting them but her prized vessel was nowhere to be seen.

Reaching for her back, she found her rifle missing which only added salt to her already grievous wounds. Not only was her ship missing but her rifle was as well. Whatever sort of dark magic those bastard hunters had used, she was going to make them pay. It took a few moments for her to finally calm down and realise that their ship was destroyed so it couldn't possibly be magic sourced from them. Which meant it must have been from the ground. Reaching down, her hands gently brushed over the forests of green grass that was sprawled across the ground. They were still veiled by darkness but they were very definitely back on land which meant that whatever had brought them down was now on-level with them.

Grunting away her aggravation, she pulled her hood tighter against her head as a cold shiver slid down her back. Gripping the arm of the Mord beside her, she used his solid form to drag herself to her feet. Veela's leg didn't appear to be in an awfully good shape but she had a hulking warrior beside her that seemed loyal enough - she was safe.

Turning her attention away from the details of their crash, she inspected her leg before averting her dark eyes up towards the other woman who seemed to be an oxidal. "Who they hell are you and where's the bastard that tried to capture me? I want a few words with him." Even though she tried to sound intimidating, Veela was exhausted and apparently injured so her voice wavered ever so slightly.

[Lord Santa]

"Oh, hey captain." Gilbert said, noticing that she woke up. "There's a few people here, I dunno who they are though."

The captain didn't respond and instead grabbed him and dragged her body up. In doing so, Gilbert noticed that she was limping and looked at her leg. It wasn't exactly bent at a wrong angle, but really, it wasn't great. Gilbert wondered why that would be, but soon remembered that she was in an airship crash, and so was he...

Gilbert soon realised something and glanced quickly at the other awakened duo. Actually, make that a trio. There were various wounds on various places on their bodies. Shoulder, leg and head... And then Gilbert noticed all the bodies around that he didn't recognise, and the wreckage of a ship he'd glimpsed before the whole thing started.

"Oh." Gilbert said out loud.

He felt stupid. His findings were further supported by the captain's words, and now that he looked, he could see that the other people had rather hostile expressions. The realisation that things actually weren't great right now made Gilbert notice the strained atmosphere.

A bunch of people from opposing ships crash-landing in the same area, both sides wounded. Of course, Gilbert was pretty durable, but he still had some bruises. With that said, it meant that he was the healthiest of the bunch right now. Adding in the fact that he was a 2 meters tall and holding a greatsword would of course put a group of wounded people on edge.

"Hey, uh..." Gilbert said, holding up his greatsword in a hopefully non-aggressive manner. "I get that we're on opposite sides here and all, but we're all wounded here, so could you guys... you know, stop being so angry?"

He hoped that would make them lighten up a little, but he doubted that it would work. Enemies didn't lighten up much in front of an armed foe.

"Ah, right." Gilbert said.

He stabbed his sword into the ground gently, to hopefully prove that he wasn't going to hit anyone with it.

"Is that better now?" He asked the group.

[Aphelion]

“Too late, it looks like he's waking up on his own, anyway.” Shara said as she placed a hand on Balazar's forearm and attempted to lift herself, though not a few seconds later she plopped right back down onto the mushy earth beneath her with a small grunt. “This might need a splint, or some of Shuda's magic...” She mumbled, hoping that the Arkard was still alive.

Before Shara could reply to the Mord or Atlas, the Oxidal from the other ship woke up and started trying to intimidate her and Shara's eyebrows rose nearly up into her hairline. With a sudden determination, Shara pulled herself to a stand up, using Balazar's body and leaning on him slightly. She could feel blood ooze from her leg in protest, but she ignored it, for now. Shara waited for Gilbert to finish speaking before flashing him a toothy grin. “Much better, sir Mord. And, as for who the leader of this group is, I believe I'm next in command with our Commander missing in action. So I'm the bastard you're looking for, miss sleepyhead.” Shara redirected her grin down at Veela.

“I am Shara, and these are my companions. If they feel like introducing themselves, they can. To be perfectly frank, we were meant to capture you as non-lethally as possible – this definitely wasn't in our game plan. But since we're stuck down in where-ever-the-hell-this-is, I think we can call fair, fair and attempt to get out of this together, alive. We need to tend to our injuries and check our dead. Whatever bodies are found will need some sort of burial... Whether by piling fronds on top of them, or just saying a few words...” As if to make her point, she looked down at the body of the young female that she had prayed over before. Then she looked at Atlas and Balazar. “I'm hoping you two will behave. For the money, if nothing else.”

Without any further preamble, Shara unlatched her short shoulder cape and reached into her brassiere to grab her small flask of whiskey. “Bottom's up.” She tensed herself as she poured the whiskey on her wound, and felt the liquid sear her flesh as it worked it's way through the gash. She growled under her breath, and then bent down to wrap her crimson cape around the leg, tying it off tightly.

“One down, who knows how many to go. How badly are you guys hurt?” She asked in general, looking from the other Oxidal and the Mord, to Balazar and Atlas.

[Medjedovic]

DUM

As the survivors of the crash tried their best to not kill each other out of fear they failed to perceive movement within the darkness. Something had them surrounded and they were too preoccupied with each other to notice it. It's only when it drew closer and began to appear from amongst the wreckage that the group realize their new predicament. Large number of black, shapeless forms, barely perceivable due to the weak light, was coming out of the darkness. They looked like black ooze, but their exact nature eluded the survivors; whether they were dangerous or not wasn't apparent at first.



[background music]

DUM

However, as the creatures were coming closer they reached few of the corpses of the hunter's ship crew. As soon as the ooze touched the flesh the survivors could hear a psssshhhh sound, as if the flesh was touched by burning hot oil. Or acid. The corpses were quickly covered by several creatures and, after remaining covered for a few second, all the while releasing the sound of melting, oozes would continue moving closer to the survivors while leaving behind only a bunch of bones, barely recognizable as human's.

DUM

Due to the low light and the black colour of the monsters the survivors group could not make out how many of the oozes were around them, but at least seven were about to reach them. Now that they were closer they could see a small shape within the ooze. They were approaching slowly, but without changing their speed at all, dead set on fulfilling the purpose which made them appear before the survivors.

DUM

And throughout it all, the drumming sound continued.

[Lord Santa]

"In all honesty, not that mu-" Gilbert began.

DUM

Now that the atmosphere wasn't so strained, the continuous drum beat filtered into Gilbert's consciousness and he looked around slowly. It was still quite dim around, and he wasn't so sure what was making it so. If it was evening, it would explain why everything was kind of dark. But the darkness was moving, like it was alive...

DUM

Gilbert suddenly stood up and took his sword. The darkness was alive - and it was moving closer. They were encircled by a group of black slime-looking things, currently unidentifiable. At a quick glance, there were around 6 or 7 separate entities. Normally, Gilbert wouldn't have worried, but the majority of the party were wounded and the slimes had corrosive properties...

DUM

Gilbert quickly slid his arm around the captain's torso and picked her up, mindful of her damaged leg. Gilbert retreated to the middle of the ring, gently placing the captain onto the floor.

"Heads up, we have company!" Gilbert said, taking a stance in front of the wounded captain.

As the slimes dissolved the corpses of the unfortunate souls who hadn't woken up yet, Gilbert realised he was kind of in a pickle. The problem was the corrosive properties. Lingering contact was a definite no, and as thick as his armour was, it wasn't easily replaceable. If he got a hole in it, it would become a big problem. If he was by himself, he could've just jumped over them and ran away, but that wasn't an option. His sense of justice couldn't leave injured people by themselves in a situation like this. He sure had quite the quandry.

DUM

Gilbert relaxed his muscles for a moment and sighed, before swinging his greatsword through the air a few times. He returned to his stance, albeit more relaxed this time. There was nothing for it in this situation, it was highly likely that they'd have to break through. There weren't many things to throw around the place, but he could deal with it. Gilbert judged that steel would last a certain amount of time, and it's not like he was overly attached to his greatsword.

Gilbert psyched himself up and found homself smiling (not that anyone would know that). He often relished desperate combat as when victory came, it was all the sweeter.

"Hope you guys can fight." Gilbert said to the others. "I'm pretty sure we can get through this without any sacrifices... maybe."