It's happening again. I have been visited by a soviet mad scientist, a king, a penguin prince of darkness, a house plant god thing, a mystical ancient member, a tired reaper (thank god) + a greeting.
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6 yrs ago
For the same reason Rome 2 was attacked by thousands of players who don't know what they're talking about. lleeeeeeemmmmings
Rolgnar sat up and started puncing a few codes in of his own. "Right, I think that-"
The ship's power went out. Completely. Only the now-dim holograms remained, sustained by a private power system.
"WHAT THE HELL IS-" Auxillary power came on, encasing everything in a deep red hue. Rolgnar was thankful his mic was off.
He pulled up a mic from the side and started yelling. "Rick! What the hell just happened!"
"Something internal, sir. It looks like the ventalation system and the Replicators got an AI conflict that crashed the whole damn thing. It's shut down, we couldn't get power up using it."
"So we don't have an AI?"
"Nor ventalation systems. You're getting a month's supply of manually oxygenized air from those stone age compractors on the walls... we can't stay in this operation, not for this mission. There's too many inconsistancies in the code. It's too standard and not flexible enough for a system made 5 weeks ago when it was coded a century ago for underlying mainframe."
"Ok, well, stop using all the big words and get us back to the yard. I'm not going to pay for their crap." He turned on the communication channel.
"I'm deploying the private network equipment for someone to pick up, it should be going out right about now-" he glared at Cassian, who nodded and quickly started working. "The ship's running into some problems. You know beurocrats, they skim on things to 'save money' and they forget to fix this or that along the way. It appearantly shut down our Ai and power, so we need to get back to the shipyard. I'm truly sorry to pull out now, I hope I can get back in later on...
Some of you may think you can help fix this. While there are temporary fixes that can be done, there's too much flawed infrastructure. Too much new fighting with the old. My ship needs to finish the upgrade."
He disconnected and saw the now free-floating pod broadcasting the network.
"The drive is seperate from the main power core, yes?"
Cassian shook his head. "No, unfortunately. It depends on it, but we can shift power to an auxillary core."
Rolgnar nodded. "Do it." He leaned back and sighed. What a wonderful time to have to pull out of here... in the middle of a supposed practice mission...
Two dark cloaked figures walked slowly across the tallest mountain peaks of the world, surrounded by a snowstorm and the darkness of just before midnight. Although by mortal terms they should have been blinded and frozen to death, let alone unable to hear anything short of the wind, these two did not depend on human sight or hearing. They were formerly proud beings of the Upper Realm; nearing the end of what felt like an eternal war of 582 years.
“The war nears its end, but it will not end in our favor. Between you and me, Zargon, we had lost thirty years ago when they purged you and wiped out my first army in a single fell swoop.”
“Now, now, my lord! We can rally what we have left for an attack they cannot forget. We lost one out of hundreds of armies; they won’t be able to defeat us all.”
“You are young, Zargon, and that isn’t a bad thing. But if you were an Archangel, you would know that between our logistical problems, dissent in the ranks and in particular Aldur’s sweeping armies are bringing us down holding by holding, we can’t muster the power to destroy holdings that I had personally protected for this reason. It would be in vain anyways, as I will soon be gone.”
Zargon looked up at the other cloaked figure, at his grim dark gray face in surprise. “Gone? Where will you go?”
The two stopped and sat on a large, almost bench shaped rock. They both looked over what they could barely see, through the storm, a huge battlefield. The battlefield that Aldur’s First Army of the Upper Realm and Raestal’s First Legion clashed, leaving thousands of angelic shells, mortal bodies and mythical beasts now extinct behind to slowly fade into the ground and enrich the soil with powerful magical properties.
“There will be a final battle, but it will be between myself and those I once called brothers. After which I will no longer hold the power to make any effect in this world.
It is from that point that I will go to what the others labelled the “Forbidden” Realm.”
But who will carry the mantle of our armies?”
“In truth, I trust you more than anyone I know. But the fact I can only trust you is why I cannot make you a successor to my legacy. I will leave that to yourselves to decide before I one day return. They won’t kill you all… you’re angels, brothers. But at the same time they will not ever trust you again. Chances are they will make a world for you… one where you will be sealed and left to your own devices. But all creations have flaws. I trust that some of the more intellectual minds of my forces, should they survive, will discover the flaws.”
The cloaked figure pulled out three long, but small slabs - each no bigger than a sword’s hilt.
“These are slabs now. But someday they will become something more. The angels upstairs couldn’t destroy them if they tried. Whatever they do try, one day, they will be found.”
He put them back in his pocket. Rising, he drew his runeblade.
“At dawn I will meet them, along with the angels who will still follow me. I’m outnumbered, even overpowered, but I will not fall without taking at least one of those bastards with me.”
He pulled a second sword out of a runic pouch that Zargon hadn’t even noticed.
“This is Demonsbane. After tomorrow, if you can, I suggest you save it for when the time comes. It isn’t an archangel blade, but it is close enough and it can fight like one.”
Finding the choice of words slightly odd, Zargon accepted the blade, pulling out his worn down old blade and casting it down the mountain while replacing it with his new one.
“I am honored, my lord, for this.”
His companion smiled. He put his sword in both hands and gazed at it thoughtfully. Zargon noticed something distinctly wrong with it.
“This sword has served with me for a very long time. Even after I fall, it may yet come in circulation with the world at large. When the time comes, it will know what to do.”
“Know what to do? The terms made no sense.
“You didn’t know? It speaks to me; ever since I reforged it with the true magic that this world should have used. Remarkable, actually. It’s almost a son in its own right, almost like I consider you a son of mine…”
“Zargon, there’s been… a development.”
Zargons eyes snapped open. He almost dozed off on one of Ghresus’s many bloodied benches. Go figure. He never really noticed how much the whole place looked like some sort of demonic church until now; he appreciated the irony.
“How very informative. A development. I could tell you about a development of a human and his warts, too.”
Ghresus resisted the urge to roll his eyes and went up to Zargon, whispering…
“That’s at least three developments! They all had to come at the same time?!”
Zargon stood up and paced up and down the isles, musing, while Ghresus looked expectantly at him.
“Right… lock this place and Craxis’s place down. Have any demon that tries to get in eradicated on the spot after you call everyone we have in. The operation’s now shortened; we’re starting the next part after the meeting. Have Craxis steer Jelthor to the caves, but don’t let him find it, just steer him so the ‘heros’ can at least heavily weaken the dragons and Jeltheor. I want everyone who has any loyalty to me here, that means take all agents out of the human rea-”
“What about our established one? There has to be someone to stay. It’s going to look suspicious when everything we have is pulled out of hell and the mortal realm to every single party already.”
“Fine, fine, keep that one in, but everyone else I want to see here this time tomorrow. Just arrange for the nosy one to vanish, I don’t care about him.”
“As you wish. Oh, and there was one more thing… it actually might be important.”
“Oh, now you tell me. What is it?”
“I’m not of the old days and I personally haven’t met one, but a fwe of our spies reported something odd that happened not too long ago. Some sort of spiritual shockwave. I know one hidden took the brunt and was killed on the spot, but since it didn’t do anything to the humans, I assume it is magical… possibly angelic.”
Zargon gave Ghresus an uncomfortable brooding stare.
“You had best be wrong… only Archangels create that sort of effect. It doesn’t matter, we’re pulling in anyways. Even if there is one we’ll work around him. Just get working…”
A deep boom echoed across the world, faintly audible and almost impossible to catch by anyone without good hearing but one that could be felt much more so in the bones. Not to an extreme, just a little vibration, although those of a magical nature felt it a lot more.
Deep in the northern mountains just beyond Waeldershore, a tall man - taller than even someone who would be tall by Elven standards - rose in a silvery-grey suit of armor, holding his long spear. Looking out at the world, he chuckled. The humans seem to be doing well enough. He saw the town in the distance, although he didn’t notice what chaos had ensued in it, or that anything would have happened there at all.
He could teleport, possibly, but he simply wanted to walk this time. See what the world was like. He hadn’t been here in a long time, after all...
He walked down the mountain path, eventually vanishing deep into paths between rivers and mountains, making no haste to come to the town.
((End of first stage… and final IC post from me for a few weeks.))
You'll love the stuff I dream up when I'm off on vacation...
Speaking of which, final post coming tomorrow to set the stage for "stage 2", after which it is left to your imaginations and a certain mage who has simply been... scheming :)
