Current
Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
7
likes
1 yr ago
It is certainly not 'optimal', but it *is* doable, depending on what you want to do with it. You could go swords or valor bard and play them more like a warrior with some magical ability
2
likes
2 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
Acknowledged. Priority targets confirmed. Recommend Evac. Echo's voice crackled as the Endoform lit up the target once again with an extended burst from its autocannon. The threat seemed to have protection from directed energy and beams, but nothing could withstand enough sustained fire for too long. Unlike regular humans, or even power armor clad humans, recoil was less an issue for a being of stone and metal. No matter how hard the weapon bucked, it was as much a part of Echo as its armor was. Add on top of it bioguided shells to make up for any recoil, in lieu of any greater threats, Echo merely held down the trigger until its weapon barrels began to glow a faint cherry red.
Lines of tracers cut across the torso of the mech as Echo guided its weapon towards any of the vulnerable areas in view that Salvator noted. It didn't have the time or thinking capacity to single out a particular system, be it weapon, camera or antenna, instead the Endoform shifted ita focus to whichever subsystem happened to be closest to its current stream of fire. It seemed that Echo's endoform was intent on emptying its magazine before releasing the trigger.
Unfortunately for them, the mech didn't seem to be the type to just sit still.
Alert. Enemy incoming.
The mech was faster than Echo, and Echo's anti-gravity drives were already damaged. Attempting to flee from the mech was an impossibility, the mech would just shift course and intercept them. Instead, Echo turned to face the mech head on and began an offensive advance of its own, taxing its anti-grav drives as it accelerated to ramming speed.
Alert. Initiating counter charge. Brace for impact.
A game of giant robot chicken was surely unexpected. Would a pilot wonder why a machine currently operating anti-grav systems would charge a grounded vehicle? Any bit of confusion helped. If Alice managed to destroy some wheels to disrupt its charge was even better. A vehicle's handling had lag time. Lag between the pilot noticing something, thinking of what to do, inputing commands into its control system, and the machine itself reacing to said system. Echo wasn't a vehicle. Every function within its body- baring any abnormalities- moved at the speed of thought.
In full control of its speed and momentum, at the very least minute, Echo made a sudden strafe to the left and killed its anti-grav system. Wood, stone and earth crunched and crumbled as six multiton legs crashed into the ground, its 'knees' bending as they impacted. An instant later the legs forced the Warform back into the air as they kicked off, sending its hulking mass careening into the side of the charging mech. Echo doubted such a short side tackle would destroy the mech, but drastically changing its course or knocking it off its unstable wheels was a possibility, as was disorienting or injuring the fleshy pilot within the hardened steel.
"Even on vacation we can never catch a break, huh?" Gerard chuckled as the squad quickly began tearing down their camp and loading into the truck. Tearing down the camp consisted of Gerard haphazardly throwing any and everything into the back of the truck with waves of telekinesis, pausing only to turn off the grill and fire pit before those too were unceremoniously tossed into the back of the truck. As soon as the back of the truck was clear of flying debris, the squad tumbled in. Kali and Justice climbed into the front seat, while Silje clambered on top of Morden. The rest of them made due with the back of the truck. All in all, they'd cleared up and packed in about 3 minutes. A minute later they were on- or rather off the road and headed in the direction of the crash. "Haven't even been deployed and we're on our first op already. Cell services looks like its shot- if we don’t go help them, I don’t think survivor's will make it long enough for any rescue services. Hell, the only other people who saw the crash is probably Sapple Springs, and they don’t exactly look like they have the manpower for- well, anything."
They called it the Petrified Forest National Preserve. Long before there was a Rassvet or a Vangar, this whole section of the badlands was a beautiful forest. Colossal trees bigger than any skyscraper, huge grazing beasts, and other wonders all growing huge on the Mist. After a time, the waters that once fed the area stopped coming, the ground grew dry and cracked, and things faded away. The only left were facsimiles: minerals and stone that took the shape of once living things. The squad snaked through this landscape of hills and bends. Navigating around the occasional petrified trunk of a tree that lay as if discarded by some giant after being used a toothpick. The Barghest squad arrived at the crash- or one part of the crash anyway- the truck coming to a stop upon the lip of a huge crater and staring down upon the crashed leviathan. The wrecked airship had smashed its nose into the ground like a spear from the heavens, scattering across miles of wreckage. A twisted altar composed of flame and warped metal that lit up the night around it, the long claw mark of the crashed ship large enough to fit the entirety of Sapple Springs within. Heat from fire and mist radiated from all around them and could be felt from the edge.
"Mist is going crazy here." Gerard grunted with a pained wince as he climbed out of the back of the truck, swiping his hands and conjuring a pair of heavy gauntlets that slammed into the ground next to him. Even those that weren’t as magically attuned as Silje or Val could feel it. An otherworldly and oppressive hum that seemed to encase the entire area and made his hair stand on end. It felt almost as if they were swimming on land, the very air itself was thick and lethargic with unseen heft. Ahead of them small flames burst into roaring pillars of fire as they interacted with the mist. In other small areas pieces of debris remained suspended in air as if gravity itself had turned off. In other areas still, small desert flowers bloomed and died within an instant as time sped up around them. There was an old adage about mist reactors: when they broke, reality had a habit of breaking with them. Pieces of metal lay scattered across the ground like warped and distorted bones. There was half a chair here, the broken head of a statue there, and the remnants of a bed and so on. It all seemed far too ornate for any kind of military involvement reminding Gerard more of the estates in Orestia than anything else.
Then of course there were the bodies.
Most were charred beyond recognition but some weren't. Gerard knelt down in front of one of the bodies that had been thrown to the lip of the crater, using his foot to turn the man over. A man maybe in his mid-late thirties, dark hair cut in military fashion, stubble across the jaw. It was the burnt remains of his uniform that drew Gerard’s attention the most. It was a uniform that he and the rest of the Barghest squad had been studying for years: A Vangar officer's uniform.
"Well that's fucking great." Gerard grunted as he gestured to the body. "Vangar Honorguard uniforms. If that doesn't scream diplomatic envoy I don't know what does."
"So much for peace talks, huh?" Gerard remarked dryly, "That being said, I don't recall there being any significant-or any SAM emplacements around Sapple Springs."
Large and imposing, though not quite as large as baseline trolls, Frost is still hard not to notice. Standing in close to 8 feet in height, and weighing somewhere around the ballpark of 400 lbs, Frost is built like a brick shit house of bone and brawn. Despite her stature, Frost actually has a notably soft step and a surprising amount of deft given her size. Though lacking the dermal deposits present on baseline trolls, her pale skin is still hardened like leather hide, and her light brown hair is usually kept short and out of the way, and a crown of short horns circle the edge of her skull. Frost almost always dresses in what could be described as mil-chic. An appropriate mix of techy/edgey style and military utilitarianism.
Awakened
No
Archetype
Street Samurai
Cybernetic or Bioware
Wired Reflexes
Orthoskin
Cyberarm - Right
Titanium Bone Lacing
Smartlink
Datajack
Personality
In a word, frosty. Frost is a prickly, cold, foul mannered bitch, and couldn't give a damn about the opinions of strangers. Pessimistic and realistic, Frost is well aware that this is a dog-eat-dog world, and given a choice, Frost eats, every time. Frost is blunt as a boulder and tells things exactly how she sees them, and her bedside manner is lacking. Still, she is not without morals, and has lines even she won't cross. She keeps collateral damage to an acceptable amount and doesn't like to get 'innocents', particularly children involved in runs.
Like a blizzard, Frost bounces between calm and fury as the situation dictates. Far from emotionless, Frost keeps her passions close to the chest, and outside of snarky or sarcastic quips during runs, keeps things like her explosive temper in check for when she is in a relatively safe place. She has a notable soft spot for her adoptive sister Nadya, and is extremely protective of her. When involved with people she is close to, Frost is notably warmer, though still somewhat grumpy and standoffish.
Equipment
A bit of a gun nut, and a veritable walking armory, the vast majority of Frost's income is spent on guns, and gun accessories, and she typically has something for any given situation. While physically incapable of carrying all the guns she owns at once, Frost regularly tailors her kits for the expected threats on a run- typically a primary, one or two secondaries, and occasionally a heavy weapon if the potential situation demands.
Ares Alpha (Primary) - A best seller for a reason. Powerful, accurate, reliable, and comes with a grenade launcher and smartgun link. What's not to like? Frost's is additionally fully kitted out with an imaging scope, laser sight, suppressor and sling.
Ingram Smartgun X (Primary) - Another classic. SMG fitted out with a gas vent system, smartgun link and suppressor.
AK-97 (Primary) - Reliable, durable, replaceable. While one of the less expensive weapons in her arsenal, Frost regardless takes good care of it. Fitted out rather simply with a sling, an externally mounted smart system and extended magazines.
Panther XXL (Heavy) - The big, mean troll's pet cat. An assault cannon firing tank ammunition, and comes standard with a smartgun system. Frost has additionally kitted her's out with an imaging scope, bipod and sling.
Terracotta ARMS AM-47 (Heavy) - A troll sized sniper rifle for troll sized problems. Only slightly less obtrusive than the Panther. Comes standard with an imaging scope, bipod and smartgun link.
Ares Predator V x2 (Secondary) - The iconic runner pistol, with a built-in smartgun system- and about as small a weapon as Frost can handle. Frost's pistols are fitted out with laser sights, gas vent systems and concealed quickdraw holsters.
Remmington Roomsweeper x2 (Secondary) - Sawn-off Shotgun in a heavy pistol frame. For when a room must be cleared, with little concern about collateral damage. Fitted out with laser sights.
Knucks (Secondary) - Notable, one of the only nonlethal weapons Frost carries in her arsenal- well, as nonlethal as a giant troll punching you in the head can be. For when a mere fist is not quite enough.
Alongside her chosen weapons, Frost has a set of equipment she'll typically take with her:
Survival Knife - a handy knife with a suite of extra functions including multitool, micro-lighter, GPS monitor and ARO maps built into it. The blade is coated with an inert chemical than can be activated to shine light. Frost's knife has a little charm from Nadya hanging off the handle.
Form-fitting Body Armor - basically a second skin, Frost never leaves home without it. Modded to be thermal dampening.
Armored Jacket - Troll sized heavy jacket. Fitted to be nonconductive and fire resistant.
Full Body Armor - When social restraints are not present, or when heavy combat is expected, Frost drops the jacket for a full set of body armor and helmet. Chemically sealed, nonconductive and fire resistant. The helmet has flare compensators and noise dampener.
Ruthenium Polymer Cloak - An active camo cloak to help a big troll appear not as big- though its of very little use while on the move. Meant for maintaining stealth while hunkering down in a sniper nest for long periods of time.
Goggles - For 'light duty' purposes. Comes with magnification and flare compensators.
Respirator - For use in conjunction with the goggles in place of a gas mask.
Commlink - A gift from her younger sister, a supposedly hack and jamproof Transys Avalon comm link. Frost also owns a set of Micro-Transceivers for them as well.
Fake SIN
Weapons License
Concealed Weapons License
Cyberware License
Bodyguard Occupation License
Miscellaneous Gear
Silver Credstick
Standard Credstick x3
Datachip
Standard Tag x3
Sensor Tag x2
Stim Patches x2
Trauma Patch
Medkit R3
Medkit R6
Background
Born and subsequently orphaned on the streets of Hong Kong, there weren't a whole lot of prospects for a Sinless Troll other than fight, rob and steal. So that's what she did. Jackie's earliest days were spent struggling for survival. Stealing food from stalls, or mugging the people that caught her. Strong for her size, but still a child, it was a miracle Jackie made it to adolescence without becoming a statistic.
After attempting to rob the wrong- or maybe the right people, Jackie found herself taken in by a small band of paramilitary operators, the 22nd Flying Tigers, a former UCAS marine unit turned mercenary outfit operating out of a small shipping boat out and around the South China Sea. Being a small unit, they found work for her almost immediately. From cleaning and maintaining gear, to sneaking around and scoping things out with binoculars and a commlink. Soon after began the weapons training, rifle drills and target shooting; which Jackie proved to be rather apt at. Jackie was as big as a grown man by the time she was 15, though she never participated in more than light duty until she turned 18, when she became a full fledged member of the unit.
Unfortunately, the story of the Flying Tigers was ultimately cut short. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. A series of missions gone south, dwindling resources, casualties and defection and eventually the Flying Tigers were down to but two, Jackie and the Old Timer that picked her up to begin with. By the time she was 20, the 22nd Flying Tigers were effectively defunct.
It was around then Jackie took her first steps into the world of shadowrunning. Despite her youth, Jackie was still a troll- and a fomorian at that, and therefore more acceptable to the more conscientious eye. With what connections the Old Timer had, Jackie first found work as a hired muscle for rich chaebols out of Korea or independent Chinese businessmen, before graduating to wetwork, gun running and more lucrative bodyguard posts.
A few years into this new life and Jackie- now Frost was met with a strange but familiar circumstance. Like herself years before, someone tried to steal their boat. Finding a kindred spirit in the would-be boat jacker, and also finding a need for more hands on deck, Frost and the Old Timer would adopt Nadhezda, who was quickly renamed Nadya. Frost and the Old Timer would take a hiatus from work to spend the next year or two getting her up to speed, not with the skillset of a rifleman, but of a shadowrunners, and soon they were back in business.
Now 28, Frost has quite a few years of running with Nadya, and a few more years on top of that under her belt. Experienced and well versed in the life, nearing but not quite a seasoned veteran just yet, Frost has had her ups and downs, successes and scrapes. Hoping to break another, dreadfully familiar streak of not-quite-successes, Frost and Wildfire's next job takes them to Portugal to hopefully turn their luck around. While Frost is wary about working for such a small Corp, money is money, and there are bills to be paid.
@vietmyke Hoi, Frost! We love to see the Trogs represented.
You built what I like to call 'the indestructible troll'. Dodging is more of a suggestion for someone whose bones are titanium laced and whose skin is hardened and, frankly, is a troll. That full suit of body armor will make you feel like a god until something just as nasty as you shows up on the opposition, in which case we all hope and pray that Frosty is the one in the immediate area when things that nasty show up otherwise it will become quite gross quite fast for potential 'squishies' (read: everyone who isn't you).
Side note, there is no license on this sixth world that will legally permit you to carry an Ares Alpha, the Panther XXL, or the AM-47 Rifle. This is just so you know in case you decide to carry the Panther to a business meeting in an office building or something. On a purely joking-observation level due to the sheer size of it, the AM-47 is almost functionally an assault cannon itself and I love that for you. On a gentle nitpicking note, I'm pretty sure the current Ares Predator in 2075 is the Ares Predator V [which makes literally no difference on anything; the Ares Predator of whatever variant is always the standard go-to firearm for those with enough money to have one because Ares makes fraggin' good guns].
On a nostalgic level, I adore seeing Datajacks on non-deckers in the modern wireless world. You can now plug directly into things!...Namely your guns! For if you can't use the wireless smartgun functions! It's honestly a niche thing on tabletop, but for roleplay and narrative purposes I just love to see it. Nobody can hack or brick your eyes/guns if you're taking a few seconds to directly plug into them rather than turn their wireless connections on.
Indestructible angry troll was the name of the game 😎 Though generally smart/tactically minded enough to use concepts like cover-as her size allows, and not standing around and taking unnecessary fire.
I was pretty certain weapon licenses wouldn't cover the bigger boys- didn't know the Alpha was also off the table but that's fine too. The licenses were more for the smaller guns anyway. I figure if we're walking into a situation where Frost needs to bring the Alpha or the bigger guns, we're not necessarily caring about legality. Not that its particularly relevant for the rp, but I noticed on the wiki that the damage numbers for the AM-47 were pretty close to the Panther XXL, but I felt obligated to keep the Panther because I made a comment to @Abstract Proxy that Frost was almost certainly a cat person, and there is a joke in there somewhere about a troll and her pet cat/cannon.
I'm a bit unlearned about how matrix stuff works in shadowrun, but having spent enough time with some cybersecurity friends have made me fear basically any and all wireless networks. Closed systems all the way, forever from now until the end of time for me!
Wildfire's totally sister, here! Still working on finishing it up.
Jackie "Frost" Hara
Street Name
Frost
Metatype
Troll (Fomorian)
Gender
Female
Age
28
Appearance
Large and imposing, though not quite as large as baseline trolls, Frost is still hard not to notice. Standing in close to 8 feet in height, and weighing somewhere around the ballpark of 400 lbs, Frost is built like a brick shit house of bone and brawn. Despite her stature, Frost actually has a notably soft step and a surprising amount of deft given her size. Though lacking the dermal deposits present on baseline trolls, her pale skin is still hardened like leather hide, and her light brown hair is usually kept short and out of the way, and a crown of short horns circle the edge of her skull. Frost almost always dresses in what could be described as mil-chic. An appropriate mix of techy/edgey style and military utilitarianism.
Awakened
No
Archetype
Street Samurai
Cybernetic or Bioware
Wired Reflexes
Orthoskin
Cyberarm - Right
Titanium Bone Lacing
Smartlink
Datajack
Personality
In a word, frosty. Frost is a prickly, cold, foul mannered bitch, and couldn't give a damn about the opinions of strangers. Pessimistic and realistic, Frost is well aware that this is a dog-eat-dog world, and given a choice, Frost eats, every time. Frost is blunt as a boulder and tells things exactly how she sees them, and her bedside manner is lacking. Still, she is not without morals, and has lines even she won't cross. She keeps collateral damage to an acceptable amount and doesn't like to get 'innocents', particularly children involved in runs.
Like a blizzard, Frost bounces between calm and fury as the situation dictates. Far from emotionless, Frost keeps her passions close to the chest, and outside of snarky or sarcastic quips during runs, keeps things like her explosive temper in check for when she is in a relatively safe place. She has a notable soft spot for her adoptive sister Nadya, and is extremely protective of her. When involved with people she is close to, Frost is notably warmer, though still somewhat grumpy and standoffish.
Equipment
A bit of a gun nut, and a veritable walking armory, the vast majority of Frost's income is spent on guns, and gun accessories, and she typically has something for any given situation. While physically incapable of carrying all the guns she owns at once, Frost regularly tailors her kits for the expected threats on a run- typically a primary, one or two secondaries, and occasionally a heavy weapon if the potential situation demands.
Ares Alpha (Primary) - A best seller for a reason. Powerful, accurate, reliable, and comes with a grenade launcher and smartgun link. What's not to like? Frost's is additionally fully kitted out with an imaging scope, laser sight, suppressor and sling.
Ingram Smartgun X (Primary) - Another classic. SMG fitted out with a gas vent system, smartgun link and suppressor.
AK-98 (Primary) - Reliable, durable, replaceable. While one of the less expensive weapons in her arsenal, Frost regardless takes good care of it. Fitted out rather simply with a sling and extended magazines.
Panther XXL (Heavy) - The big, mean troll's pet cat. An assault cannon firing tank ammunition, and comes standard with a smartgun system. Frost has additionally kitted her's out with an imaging scope, bipod and sling.
Terracotta ARMS AM-47 (Heavy) - A troll sized sniper rifle for troll sized problems. Only slightly less obtrusive than the Panther. Comes standard with an imaging scope, bipod and smartgun link.
Ares Predator V x2 (Secondary) - The iconic runner pistol, with a built-in smartgun system- and about as small a weapon as Frost can handle. Frost's pistols are fitted out with laser sights, gas vent systems and concealed quickdraw holsters.
Remmington Roomsweeper x2 (Secondary) - Sawn-off Shotgun in a heavy pistol frame. For when a room must be cleared, with little concern about collateral damage. Fitted out with laser sights and smartgun links.
Knucks (Secondary) - Notable, one of the only nonlethal weapons Frost carries in her arsenal- well, as nonlethal as a giant troll punching you in the head can be. For when a mere fist is not quite enough.
Alongside her chosen weapons, Frost has a set of equipment she'll typically take with her:
Survival Knife - a handy knife with a suite of extra functions including multitool, micro-lighter, GPS monitor and ARO maps built into it. The blade is coated with an inert chemical than can be activated to shine light. Frost's knife has a little charm from Nadya hanging off the handle.
Form-fitting Body Armor - basically a second skin, Frost never leaves home without it. Modded to be thermal dampening.
Armored Jacket - Troll sized heavy jacket. Fitted to be nonconductive and fire resistant.
Full Body Armor - When social restraints are not present, or when heavy combat is expected, Frost drops the jacket for a full set of body armor and helmet. Chemically sealed, nonconductive and fire resistant. The helmet has flare compensators and noise dampener.
Goggles - For 'light duty' purposes. Comes with magnification and flare compensators.
Respirator - For use in conjunction with the goggles in place of a gas mask.
Commlink - A gift from her younger sister, a supposedly hack and jamproof Transys Avalon comm link. Frost also owns a set of Micro-Transceivers for them as well.
Fake SIN
Weapons License
Concealed Weapons License
Cyberware License
Miscellaneous Gear
Silver Credstick
Standard Credstick
Stim Patches x2
Trauma Patch
Medkit
Background
Born and subsequently orphaned on the streets of Hong Kong, there weren't a whole lot of prospects for a Sinless Troll other than fight, rob and steal. So that's what she did. Jackie's earliest days were spent struggling for survival. Stealing food from stalls, or mugging the people that caught her. Strong for her size, but still a child, it was a miracle Jackie made it to adolescence without becoming a statistic.
After attempting to rob the wrong- or maybe the right people, Jackie found herself taken in by a small band of paramilitary operators, the 22nd Flying Tigers, a former UCAS marine unit turned mercenary outfit operating out of a small shipping boat out and around the South China Sea. Being a small unit, they found work for her almost immediately. From cleaning and maintaining gear, to sneaking around and scoping things out with binoculars and a commlink. Soon after began the weapons training, rifle drills and target shooting; which Jackie proved to be rather apt at. Jackie was as big as a grown man by the time she was 15, though she never participated in more than light duty until she turned 18, when she became a full fledged member of the unit.
Unfortunately, the story of the Flying Tigers was ultimately cut short. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. A series of missions gone south, dwindling resources, casualties and defection and eventually the Flying Tigers were down to but two, Jackie and the Old Timer that picked her up to begin with. By the time she was 20, the 22nd Flying Tigers were effectively defunct.
It was around then Jackie took her first steps into the world of shadowrunning. Despite her youth, Jackie was still a troll- and a fomorian at that, and therefore more acceptable to the more conscientious eye. With what connections the Old Timer had, Jackie first found work as a hired muscle for rich chaebols out of Korea or independent Chinese businessmen, before graduating to wetwork, gun running and more lucrative bodyguard posts.
A few years into this new life and Jackie- now Frost was met with a strange but familiar circumstance. Like herself years before, someone tried to steal their boat. Finding a kindred spirit in the would-be boat jacker, and also finding a need for more hands on deck, Frost and the Old Timer would adopt Nadhezda, who was quickly renamed Nadya. Frost and the Old Timer would take a hiatus from work to spend the next year or two getting her up to speed, not with the skillset of a rifleman, but of a shadowrunners, and soon they were back in business.
Now 28, Frost has quite a few years of running with Nadya, and a few more years on top of that under her belt. Experienced and well versed in the life, nearing but not quite a seasoned veteran just yet, Frost has had her ups and downs, successes and scrapes. Hoping to break another, dreadfully familiar streak of not-quite-successes, Frost and Wildfire's next job takes them to Portugal to hopefully turn their luck around. While Frost is wary about working for such a small Corp, money is money, and there are bills to be paid.
"It wasn't me this time." Galahad insisted as Morden hopped out of the back of the truck, Val not far behind him. The truck itself lifted considerably, now that Morden's weight was no longer dragging it down to earth. The two took stock of the current situation, finding it better to hurl comments from a slight distance away rather than be right up next to Justice as she handed the old Marshall her papers. "I don't think they like us much." Gerard commented idly, leaning towards the larger man with a faux conspiratorial glance. "And here I thought people had respect for the military."
Gerard watched with an amused glance as Val more or less returned to the proverbial scene of the crime, apparently unaware of what had just happened. Not that any of them made any moves to explain that to her- At least for Gerard's part, he was rather curious if things would spiral even more out of control. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately depending on the person, no more shenanigans were to happen, at least for the moment. The cashier, already sheet white and didn't offer much in the terms of words "F-four Gil."
"Tourism... Uh huh..." the old timer grunted as he flipped through the folder of papers Justice provided to him. He didn't necessarily seem convinced, but at the very least, his hand left its proximity to his pistol when his eyes confirmed that he had not just run up on a squad of AWOL WARDENs. He glanced up briefly when Kalina cut in with a bit of a snort. "Oh they've certainly been through- up and passed on by without much a care. Don't think Rupert and his fellas were too keen on chasing after them. 'Sides, any more people leave, and we won't be much of a town anymore."
"Well, looks like everything checks out. Sorry for the hold up, not a lot of us 'round these parts, so we gotta be bit cautious when folk start throwing magic around." the old marshall finally concluded after a few minutes of pouring over documents, handing them back to Justice as he waved off the backup on the water tower. "Safe to assume ya'll be passing us by come the morn? Careful on your way up north, bullet sharks been tearin' up the ground by the 'forest."
The fluttering flag of the Imperial Air Force danced amongst the heavens. A shock of black and red emblazoned with the roaring gryphons - the symbol of House Skymning: Rulers of Vangar. The flag itself was worn and the colors were beginning to fade, a few centuries old at this point, squatting atop of the upper rigging of the Palatine, marking it as the flagship of the Vangar Diplomatic Fleet. The winds themselves were thick, loaded with thick smoke and ash rising from the paralyzed battlefields that seemed to be not but misshapen clumps of green and brown far below them.
Colette Van Skymning of House Skymning stood on the observation deck in deep thought. Behind her was the vast expanse that the was the Vangar Empire, an empire forged by the blood and sacrifices of her ancestors before her. It was a land of prosperity and order, where crime was punished with a clenched iron fist but where everyone from the lowest of peasants to the highest members of the nobility had enough to eat upon their tables. Ahead of her was the unknown, the Kingdom of Rassvet. A land of great industry, ingenuity but also one of isolation and seclusion. If the historic books she had read in the palace library were to be believed, it was a land of corruption and greed. Where the nobility dominated their politics to keep the lower classes repressed and below them in rank. A land where the military and nobility ran unchecked. A strange land where children as young as ten were taken away from their lives and families to be turned into killing machines.
So why did the notion of the place excite her so much? Perhaps it was really as simple as experiencing the unknown.
Many back home and in the military certainly didn't want her to be here. One thing her critics claimed was undeniably true: she was young and inexperienced, the only conformation she needed for that was to look at her reflection cast in the glass panes of the observation deck. Having turned twenty years of age just a few months prior, a young woman looked back at her. Hair dark hair fell in waves down to her waist, green eyes bright and filled with something between young naiveté and determination. The cutting image of her mother- or so she was told to believe. She knew not the rigors and troubles of rule and politics like her father or her older siblings knew. She may of had the best education and training by some of the brightest minds in the Empire but she didn't have the experience, the foresight to do something with it.
The sound of swishing fabric brought her out of her reverie and back into the present. She turned her head to watch as a lone figure made his way towards her. Hair grey in color and perhaps a bit longer than typical military regulations, a thick mustache and beard that would've been just as common on a lumberjack. He walked a decided level of purpose about him soft footfalls echoing across the empty chamber. Albriech Bernhardt, some time ago he was a general and war hero of the whole of the Empire. He retired some twenty years back, serving in a less prominent role as a tutor to the Emperor's children as a favor to his childhood friend. 'Uncle' Albriech was a permanent fixture of Colette's life and he had always been her favorite tutor. It was upon her request, not her father's for him to accompany her to Rassvet.
"There you are milady. The Captain has been looking for you everywhere." Albriech explained as he closed the distance standing next to her gaze focused intently on the horizon. "I should of figured that you would be here. You always did favor the views from up here."
"Yes. My apologies Uncle, I just needed to find somewhere quiet to think. I wasn't really feeling up to being followed around by the whole retinue." She explained, voice tired.
"Something troubling you then?"
"I just wonder if I'm doing the right thing." Colette responded producing a slow nod of agreement from the older man.
"The terrible affliction that comes with being in a position of authority. As it were. I thought the young miss was certain of her position regarding our current matters in Rassvet." Albriech reminded her. It was true- since the war's one year anniversary she had been one of the more prolific voices for peace.
"I am certain... I just don't know what it means for our home. Wasn't it you that always told me that war was a necessity needed to fuel the Empire?" She asked looking towards the older man. In return Albriech gave a small smile as he stroked his beard seemingly in deep thought.
"Those are words of a younger man, but might I propose to you the words of an older man?" He offered, "It behooves a leader to do all within their power to ensure the continued prosperity and well being of every man and women beneath them."
"Who said that?"
"Well myself of course." Albriech chuckled loudly, obviously quite pleased with himself as he placed a hand upon Colette's shoulder. "True nobility means to have your focus placed upon the well being of the citizenry. This war has produced nothing but bloodshed for no gains to speak of. Lives, resources, effort- all wasted. All in pursuit of resources we don't even know if Rassvet still has. While some may not like the idea of peace, it may truly be the best course we have available."
"Even so, all we have done to the people of Rassvet is destroy their towns and set their fields ablaze. The idea of them reconciling with us so easily- I just feel like we're being set up for failure."
"And so it is your job to do what the others can not. An easy task? No. But one that can we be accomplished? I certainly believe so."
"You make it sound so easy Uncle."
"Like most things. Anyway, before I forget, Captain Rekks desires to go over the security detail one last time. I understand why your father trusts him so much, but can the man ever be persistent."
Initial troubles aside, eventually the WARDENs were left to their own business, now free of encroaching Marshalls.
The Cloudgazer, witnessing its first bit of business in weeks- if not months probably, opened up most of the floor for them- a quartet of two bed flats, all next door to each other, though the Barghest squad had set up most of their kit in the empty parking lot, with a small portable etherium-powered fire pit, a gas grill and a collection of collapsible stools, beer cases of varying fullness, and procured cushions for seating areas. The truck sat nearby, corralling the flickering light, doors open and engine idling as music spilled out of the radio inside and over their makeshift camp. The faint smell of charcoal and lighter fluid mixed with the savory smells of meat as food roasted on the grill, and the golden afternoon sun had given way to the blue and purple of the evening sky and a cool, early autumn breeze that wasn't quite biting but just enough to warrant a jacket or sweater.
"I'm telling you- they were so fucking mad!" Gerard laughed, firelight reflecting off his glasses as he sat around the pit, in the midst of retelling a story from one of their training days. He took another swig of his beer before continuing. "Not because Morden busted through the bunker wall, but because he busted through the walls of both the team locker rooms and the instructor's observation post on his way there. Shoulda seen the look on their faces- Its miracle we weren't disqualified."
Pushing himself up to his feet, Gerard crunched the can in his hands and launched the resulting disk across the parking lot, the bit of tin clattering against the side of a trash bin, along with another some half-dozen crushed cans from earlier that night. He blinked in surprise for a moment- not entirely sure why as he felt something akin to a chill run over him. A split second later the truck and etherium fire pit shut off before flickering back to life a moment later. Lights in the motel and around in the town flickered off and on again in a strange wave before stabilizing.
Gerard was about to make a snarky remark about how broken down the town was before he saw it- before they all saw it. Nearly impossible for anyone to miss, as out of a thick layer of cloud above them fell a massive fireball. The members of Barghast squad could clearly see that it was not a magical fireball or meteor, but rather an airship falling out of the sky. The airship was huge- bigger than any Rassvet warship. The colors of the ship were hard to make out- its flag scorched and unrecognizable as everything around it was painted orange and grey by trailing fire and smoke, but it certainly seemed like a civilian liner rather than a warship, if its smooth shapes and angles, and large, probably formerly white balloon was any indication. That being said, it was rather hard to see the entire silhouette of the ship, its back half was all but missing and its sides appeared to have been peppered with holes- likely of the cannon variety- and its belly belched fire and smoke.
Passing overhead, Gerard craned his neck as he watched the massive airship continue its fiery arc across the sky, pieces of wreckage, debris, and even a few parachutes and what appeared to be escape pods broke away from it. In the relative silence of the still night, even from a far distance they could hear the echoing screams of people as they burned alive or fell off the ship- or both. The airship was rapidly losing altitude and continued to shed large chunks of itself before it smashed into the petrified badlands some dozen miles from them.
They could still see the glow of the fire and smoke from behind the craggy rocks and stone features- which glowed brighter for a moment before the ground rumbled and a explosion erupted from the location of the wreckage, the ground beneath Sapple Springs rumbling as the ship’s Mist Reactor went critical and failed.
“That didn't look like one of ours.” Gerard murmured as he pulled out his phone, his brow furrowing as he noticed that there was no signal- not even emergency lines. The radiating mist from the explosion was probably fucking with their signal- that, or something particularly sinister was afoot. "Think I saw a pod or two deploy parachutes before they got too low."
Whoami
High Moon
TaintedMushroom
TokyoPewPew
Deadlyrose9641
Zoie Hart
Silly
Qia
Soldat Elf
NovellaAddict
