Their words were true, but the thought of leaving his father without a word? What would he think of him suddenly turning his back? What if he assumed the worst? It would destroy him! Demund couldn't bare it. Clenching his fists in frustration he looked to the floor and spoke, ”I...can’t. I just can’t leave my father like this! The shining dragon still sitting atop Demund’s shoulder knew his conflicted feels and decided to give him reassurance. He nudged his cheek with his scaly head to gain Demund’s attention. Loosening his fists and looking to his new friend, the dragon nodded as if to tell him to go.
Looking back to the others he ran his plan by, ”Everyone in town knows I never planned on staying in Mashal forever. I’ll head in, get whatever supplies we need and if anyone asks I’ll say I’ve decided to leave. No one has to know about the dragons, the hut, any of it, but I have to tell my father I’m leaving at least.” He didn’t know if the others agreed, but his mind was made up. He was going back with or without them.
He picked up the dragon and gently pet him as he set him next to one of the unhatched eggs. He then removed his bandana and wrapped it around his hand to hide the markings. Heading to the stairs Demund climbed one step before looking back at everyone, ”If you feel you can’t wait for me, I understand.”
Eventually the two hunters would arrive to the fort. There was an obvious trail of where the grimm charged out, but even with a bulk of the forces gone they could still see the harpies nesting on the roof of various battlements. Fortunately for Grane and Trad, Sand's cleared out ruined fortfication was near by, and currently voided of any grimm presence. While there was still a fair distance of land between the bunker and the fort itself, at least it provided some form of shelter.
Spotting a small bit of cover near the fort the two hunters quickly hid, giving themselves time to observe the wall and come up with a plan of entry. As soon as they were hidden, Trad dropped to a knee breathing heavily. Fighting and heavy lifting he could do all day, but long distance running? Not something he was ready for. "*huff* Maybe *huff* Diamond was *huff* right about cutting back on the smokes." But this wasn't the time for choices in lifestyle, they needed to get going.
Pushing himself up, Trad pulled out his sword switching it into its rifle mode. Peaking out of their "bunker" he surveyed the area around them. "There looks to only be harpies around, but we won't know until we get inside. Got any ideas on how we should do that?" He asked looking over his shoulder to his faunus companion.
Grane was really wishing Delta was here right now. Some sniper fire would have been really nice, seeing as the harpies were sitting targets on the roof. He silently cursed himself for not bringing any of his guns along to Beacon, as even a regular rifle would have been helpful. "I don't suppose that semblance of yours can work walking all the way to the bunker?" Grane was sure he'd probably be fine on his own if he broke out into a mad dash to the bunker, but Trad surely would be picked off.
"Way I see it, we're not getting away scot free trying to reach the fort. All we can do is try and watch each others' backs." With limited options for a ranged engagement, and no protection, Grane wasn't sure what to do. Maybe just sprinting to the bunker was their best option, but there was no guarantee the grimm wouldn't just kill them before they made it there.
Trad shook his head, "Sadly no. Whenever I use my semblance I get frozen in place. However..." Pulling back behind cover he reached behind and pulled out his shield. "I have yet to find something that can penetrate Svalinn." Seeing the need for cover, he skipped the kite shied form going straight to a massive tower shield; covering his entire body and then some. "As long we stay behind this, we should be alright."
But this still left them with another problem, the battery. Trad couldn't carry it, hold his shield, and shoot down any harpies that came their way. He would have to delegate one of his items to Grane. "Hey, how good of a shot are you?"
"Pretty good. Trained with guns for a while." Grane took Trad's Gram, which was now an assualt rifle. He then aimed Gram at one of the harpies. He'd probably have buy Trad a minute or two lugging the battery to the fort. At least, if his aim was true. "You'd better start running Trad."
Grane fired a short burst at one of the harpies, which was sure to stir the rest into action.
As the first shot left Gram's barrel, Trad broke into a full sprint. Keeping his head down and his shield up he charged through to an open spot in the wall and headed for the nearest structure. With the harpies focused on Grane, there was hardly any resistance. But This was what the third time he'd had to do a mad dash like this? His legs were gonna be sore as hell when this was all over.
Once he entered the looked out to see how far behind Grane was when out of the corner of his eye he caught a large Ursa moving in. With no time to spare Trad slammed his shield down in front of the entrance and held his ground. The Ursa wouldn't be able to reach him long as he held strong.
Unfortunately, winged harpies weren't the only thing Grane and Trad had to worry about. As Grane fired at the harpies, who left their roost to converge on Grane's position, ursas came to greet Trad. Worse, was that they were both in front and behind him. A larger one er one who was wandering the courtyard, but a small, possibly juvinile ursa behind Trad, who could easily fit in the narrow halls. They attacked at the same time, one grabbing Trad's shield while the minor ursa went to bite down onto Trad's neck.
Trad was caught between an Ursa and a hard place. Even worse on the other side of that hard place was another bigger Ursa and Grane currently had his weapon! With little options Trad dropped the battery and activated his shields mounts. In seconds two metal plates on either side dropped down and bolted into the ground. The Ursa would need some friends if it wanted to bust through, but now Trad was trapped with-
CHOMP! The Ursa sank its teeth into Trad’s neck; the sheer pain was enough to bring the man to his knees. Had his aura not been at full strength, this would have been the end of the mighty Oak. But luck was on his side and the bite didn’t break through, and now it was the hunters turn.
Grabbing the Ursa's mouth and prying it open, he pushed off with his legs and launched the beast off him. Picking himself up and rubbing his still intact neck, he watched the beast recover quickly and get ready for another strike. With no weapon or shield, Trad knew there was only one thing to do. “You want to go beast? Fine” Trad slid his feet apart and opened his arms ready to grapple, “ BRING IT ON!”
The two charged at each other, the Ursa brought its claws up to strike but Trad quickly caught its arms. With enough force he threw the Ursa into the side of the wall then slammed against it with his body. Stepping back to let the creature fall, Trad leaped into the air and brought his elbow down into the Ursa's stomach. Still not ready to quit the Grimm flipped itself over pushing the hunter off of him and once more charging head on. Instead of stopping its claws this time, Trad ran head first into the Ursa and wrapped his arms around it. Summoning all his strength he suplexed the Ursa up over his head then brought the creature down on its own, snapping its neck and ending the wrestling match.
As the monster vanished into smoke, Trad could not only hear the other Ursa banging against his shield, but could see the ground starting to crack and give way. There wasn’t much time left, the radio needed to be activated or they would all be dead soon. Picking himself up from his successful suplex, he grabbed Svalinn's handles and with a deep breath released the mounts and shrunk it to a kite. Sure enough a bigger Ursa on the other side was trying to get its claws in him, but the advantage was Trad's as the large Grimm couldn't fit through the door way.
Throwing his shield on his back and grabbing the battery, Trad sprinted down the halls. Grane would have to catch up, that is, if he could get past the bigger bear!
Grane, on the other hand, was still in the thick of things. There were harpies all over Grane's position, and while he was firing Trad's assault rifle as fast as he could, it would only be a matter of time until Grane was overrun to Grimm. Grane would have to rush past the Ursa and enter the fort as well. He broke out into a dead sprint towards the Ursa, and the harpies gave chase. The Ursa stood on his hind legs and let out a roar, seeing Grane's charge as a challenge. It swiped at him as he came near, but Grane simply slid in between its legs, making it through the doorway into safety.
The ursa turned and tried to charge through the door, managing to crack the walls with it's frame, but failing to enter. This had the dual benefit of preventing the harpies from entering, but effectively sealed off that entrance.
As for Trad and Grane, the halls were oddly void of grimm, though evidence of their presence were plain enough. Much of the walls were clawed up, crude nests formed, and the scattered remains of the old hunters were still here. Rusted weapons, broken machinery, and old bones. Fortunately signs leading to the central power room were still intact, if dusty and faded, so as long as Trad and Grane weren't sight-seeing they could reach there quickly.
But despite the previous cacophony they just escaped, the inner walls were oddly quiet. Only the sounds of the hunters could be heard, and something was listening....
Following the signs Trad made it to the power room. Unfortunately the door was shut tight. Setting the battery down, he grabbed the side of the large metal door and pulled with all his might. No dice, it was sealed tight. He tried punching it in but all that left him was a hurt fist. If only the walls had been crafted the same way this door had been maybe the fort would never have fallen.
With no way to continue and not a Grimm in sight, Trad took this opportunity to sit back and wait for his teammate. It didn’t take long for Grane to come running around the corner. “I see the mama bear didn’t give you much trouble.” Trad remarked noticing he hardly had a scratch on him. “Good shooting by the way. Maybe you should take up a firearm of your own?” He mentioned as he took his sword back and placed it in his sheath. It felt good no longer being without a weapon, but they were still far from safe.
Turning his attention back to the power room door he filled Grane in on the situation. “Unless we can find away to pry this thing open, we’ll need to search for an alternate route.” Looking around at the signs that guided them there, he looked to see if any other room names sounded useful. “There.” He pointed to a sign further down the hall. “The Robot Control room. If I recall correctly, there should still be some construction bots operational. We get those powered up, and they’ll have more than enough force to pry this door open.”
It had been a while since he had used a firearm, but Grane was a bit relieved he still was able to maneuver a rifle as well as he remembered. "Maybe I will find myself a firearm..." But at the moment, they had a stuck door to deal with. Grane decided to take another look at the malfunctioning door himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust Trad, but sometimes another perspective saw something the other didn't.
The door was slightly ajar, but stuck. Any attempts to force open the door proved fruitless, and Grane soon gave up after a few tries. Just as Trad said, they would have to get the construction drones up to press the issue. "Alright. Let's move. The sooner, the better." Grane began walking down the hall, stopping just at the door of the control room. The report said Grimm had overrun the base, so Grane wouldn't be surprised if they found something hostile in there. "Ready to breach it when you are."
The door to this room was in much worse shape than the power room’s. Not only was it barely on the hinges, but it was mangled and bent in. While most Grimm wouldn't be able to fit through the gap, something like a Creep would have no trouble. The good news here was they now they had an idea of what would be behind there. The bad; no way of knowing the number or where they lurked.
Once Grane confirmed he was ready to breach, Trad counted to three and kicked the door in. The damage and wear made this more than enough to break it down and immediately Trad entered, sword and shield at the ready. “We’ll have to move fast. I guarantee any Grimm nearby heard that door fall.”
The room wasn’t too large, but it had enough space to house several rows of docking stations and a large control panel used to monitor and perhaps program the robots. It wouldn’t be any help to them at the moment seeing as not only was there no power, but the screens where smashed in. In fact, most of the robots lay in ruins on the floor. “We need to find one that's in working order.” Trad said, already checking down the first row. “Start on the other side and we’ll work our way to the middle. Soon as you find one in working condition power it on.”
"On it." Grane began searching for an intact drone in what seemed to be a machine graveyard. Missing arms, parts, and a general inability to actually work seemed to plague almost all of the robots in the room. A robot could seem intact from the outside, but the moment Grane tried to turn it on, it would fail to do anything. A few more minutes passed as he sifted through the rows of machines, finally finding one that seemed fairly unused.
With a press of a button, the construction android suddenly came about, and began to speak. "Greetings. How may I assist you today?" Jackpot. "Yo Trad! I found a working one!"
Finally, luck was smiling on the hunters as Grane found a working robot. "Perfect. Now lets get him-" A loud pounding noise cut Trad off, who responded by brandishing his rifle. The sound came again, this time they could clearly tell that something was in the ceiling. The two had just enough time to prep their weapons when a third strike opened a large hole and two Creeps jumped down, each lunging at a different target.
The one going for Trad didn't have a chance. After one or two shots, the beast dropped to the ground and vanished into smoke. But as it died, the ceiling gave way to three more behind him and another three behind Grane. Switching Gram to a sword and pulling out his shield, Trad held a firm stance, letting the Creeps charge him. The first to reach him was simply swatted out of the air by his mighty shield, the second one was then impaled by a downward thrust, and the third met its end with the back swing of the blade.
The Grimm who had landed near Grane shrieked upon seeing their comrades fall, which probably meant their friends knew where the duo were now. One of them charged him, but Grane set one of his glaives to chainsaw mode as he threw it, cleanly slicing the charging Grimm in half. Upon seeing this, the other two Grimm decided to slow down, pacing around Grane.
Grane carefully watched the Grimm as he decided to try and get the android moving. "Machi-.. Robo? Whatever. The power room door is being obstructed by something. Can you open it?" The android idled for a few seconds, before cheerfully responding. "But of course! I will get the door open as soon as possible!" The android then began moving to the power room, albeit at a snail's pace.
The Grimm attempted to attack the android as it slowly traversed the robotics room, but Grane jumped into the fray, preventing them from doing any harm to the machine. "Can't you go any faster!?!" The android stopped as he said this, then faced Grane before saying something. "Apologies, but safety regulations state I cannot move any faster than my current speed. Worry not, I am still on the way to get the power room doors open post haste!" It then continued to walk towards the power room.
Trad let out a loud audible groan. "Great, we have countless Grimm moving on our position and we're stuck shuffling back to the power room.” Walking ahead of the robot and out of the control room, Trad looked down the hall. He couldn’t see anything coming, but the slight shaking of the walls told him more than he needed to know.
Heading back to Grane he figured the two needed to formulate a plan. “With all the rubble blocking the halls, they’ll most likely keep using the vents to reach us. I suggest one of us take point while the other watches the rear. It'll give us the best range of protection while we move. Long as he keeps walking, we should reach the door in a matter of minutes."
As the two hunters fought through the swarm of creeps, one in particular stood out. It wasn't any larger than the other creeps they were fighting, but stray shots on it notably bounced off it's hide. Closer inspection would show that it was more thickly armored, indicating that this creepy was fairly older than the other ones. It didn't stick around to charge straight in, instead going after the weakest of the three: The robot. As Grane and Trad were beset by more creeps, this older creeper grabbed a peice of rubble and tossed it at the robot's leg to make it fall. Then it went back into hiding to let it's younger kin run into the slaughter.
Grane could only watch as the robot became pinned by the Grimm's attack. Luckily the construction bot seemed sturdy enough to take the hit, but it's leg was visibly damaged. It began to move again, except this time it moved even slower, at a snails pace.
Assault Gram in one hand and tower shield Svalinn in the other Trad used the two in unison as a sort of riot protection. Shooting at any Creeps in sight and blocking anything they threw, his system was working until he miss judged a throw from an armored creep. Going past his guard and damaging the robot Trad forced himself to keep his eyes on the target and leave Grane to assess the damage.
Once it ran back into hiding however Trad was free to glance at the damaged leg and curse their luck. They had to speed things up if there was any hope of saving Robert and the new girl, or to save themselves for that matter! With nothing coming to mind he called to Grane as he continued firing at any creeps trying to advance, "This is taking too long! We'll be overrun before we even get close to the door. Any ideas?"
While no ideas were spoken persay, as the creeps swarmed Trad and Grane their rush revealed something from the rubble. It was a manned turret, with the remains of a hunter draped over the controls, notably missing his lower hald and head. The robot tried to get up but kept getting knocked over by Creeps, who didn't attack it but did give it a hard time standing up on it's own. That's when he turned his head over to the turret and spoke over the horde. "My sensors indicate that the turret over there is still functional, though I do not know how much ammunition is still within it. I would recommend commandeering the turret to make short work of these vile creatures."
Easier said then done of course. There was a good bit of creeps between the two hunters and the turret, and surely they'll be swarmed the moment they reach it. That being said, there was also an air grate just right above said turrent...
Having no torch or source of light at all, Demund stayed in the back of the group and let the other illuminate the way. Just from the stairway itself he could tell, something wasn’t right here. There was no way any of this could have been done without the town noticing. Once they came upon the large room it was obvious; magic. The walls were smooth and glass and the structure was near flawless. No craftsman known aside from a dwarf would have been able to do this.
The find now had gone from one note to several. Pages wrapped in a leather cover lay at the foot of a pile of magnificent stones. Each with their own distinct design their very sight sent a chill up Demund’s spine. Gazing over each one he nudging his glass-eyed friend he remarked, ”I bet one of these will fetch enough to keep you fed for months.”
As he admired each stone, one grabbed and held his full attention. Solid steel polished to perfection with dark spots to give it shape and detail. It's design, was beyond beautiful. But more than that, Demund knew, this was the pull. Whatever this thing was it had been calling him here, and he would now find out why.
Though others had hatched, Demund paid no heed as all his attention was on this egg. The word around him didn't exist. There was only him and the egg.
Letting the pull take him once more he walked over and reached out to touch it. There was no hesitation, as if he was accepting of whatever happened. He placed his hand upon the egg which cracked the moment his skin touched the shell.
Before he could pull back, a white steel creature popped out and headbutted Demund's hand. It burned worse than any of the searing metals he had ever worked with, yet he didn't cry out or flinch. Instead be watched in complete awe as silver markings formed and all feelings of pain had left.
If the markings weren’t enough, now that the creature had broken free of its egg he was able to see just what it was. A dragon. A dragon which leaped at him and now rested proudly on his shoulder.
The smith had no words. He was stunned. But even with all his shock and awe, one thing was clear in his head. This dragon belonged to him, and he this dragon.
Breaking out of his closed reality, Demund looked to the others expecting them to be stunned as well. He was not mistaken, but their shock was not to his dragon, but their own now clinging to them as well. Though it was clear he was forcing the words out, he managed to speak to the others. ”Treasure indeed.”
His remark had cost him his concentration, but the placement of his spear put Jessi in the perfect position to swing it around and deflect the pommel of Tegonay’s blade. The dark knight then used this momentum to send a kick at Fei. ”Have you gone mad?” The young soldier shouted to Tegonay who had just claimed his orders surpassed the will of the princess. He was correct of course. A guardian’s authority was near absolute and if he was ordered to win, it was his duty to do so.
Keeping on the offensive, Tegonay came back once more bringing his sword towards Jessi; but he was more than ready this time. Hold his spear out vertically and stopping the blade mid swing the knight spoke to Jessi about oath and honor. It was then something caught Jessi’s attention; there was a distinct echo in the man’s words. Was his helmet...Empty? It didn’t matter. While he still had the servant of Yssdrasil next to him he gave a response, ”I understand all too well. But we are not your enemies! Help us fight so that we can secure the safety of Lady Asgard!”
Hopes of gaining the now mysterious knights alliance were quickly dashed by Tegonay pulling away and sending a devastating strike toward Fei. He had no intention of working with them. In truth it looked as though he intended to kill them. Silver flames erupted around the princess and halted his strike and even stunned him. Jessi used this opportunity to strike quickly, sweeping the armored ‘man’s’ legs then bringing his spear down where he would lay.
”You have orders to win, but I have orders from a guardian as well to protect and keep her daughter safe. If you will not back down, then so be it!” He pushed himself up with his spear and took position in front of Fei. Using this time to check the field he noted the other combatants were keeping each other busy. Good. No one would interrupt them. Glancing back at Fei, Jessi gave a command for the first time as her protector. ”Stay back!” turning his attention again to the metal warrior in front of him, he spoke just loud enough for them to hear, ”He’s mine.”
It was unfortunate. Imperial blood would be spilled this day. But by his word as a soldier, no matter what it cost him, Jessi would make certain that it would not be Fei’s!
The initial chop if the axe startled Demund who was stunned by the rash actions of Gale. Nevertheless the pull was still there, and being this was their only way in decided not to press the matter. Soon as the door was kicked in they all entered. Hopefully the owner wouldn’t be home soon.
Inside, Demund couldn't help but feel cheated. This place was trashed with only a coin purse being of any value. There was a note but currently Gale was reading it. Disheartened Demund sat down on the strange green cot and tried to think what possibly could have drawn them here.
It was in that moment of reflection he felt the pull again. Had they not found what they needed yet? Maybe there were still secrets hidden here, but where?
Alph turned out to be one step ahead of him. The moment he thought of looking around the quick witted bard discovered a hidden room behind a wall. Demund pushed off the cot and stood next to the others once more with hope that answers could be found.
@ViolentViolet Maybe Zyloria noticed them heading out and decided to follow? The crew have been rather focused on their destination so it wouldn't be too much to say they didn't notice her at all.
@ViolentViolet Rainstorm caused problems. The group got together and decided to go hunting. Hunting trip turned out to be more as they discovered a hut out in the middle of the forest. Group is now at the hut trying to figure out why they were drawn to it. Hilarity and high jinks ensue.*
*Story may or may not lead to hilarity and high jinks.
Danyel,
FourtyTwo,
Forsythe,
Auz,
ButtsnBalls,
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