Something had changed.
Normally, the rag man would have continued to walk to the tower, completely ignoring the sand worm.
But something was influencing him, driving him to attack.
The rag man turned.
And exploded. Thousands of thousands of rags burst forth in an endless toreent, and the storm of rags all headed for the sand worm...
And started to shove themselves through its huge mouth.
Experiment ducked, the blazing ball barely missing his face. He glared down, and growled again. The gutteral growl preceeded his eyes lighting up with flame, and he dropped.
He flipped in the air, and his body then covered itself in darkness, the cloud of dark energy pulsating over and over again as he flew downward, with no aid of technology.
It seemed he was getting... aggressive.
He slammed into the ground, and then exploded in a mass of spines, clearing away about five feet of zombie-horde around him.
"You wanna fight me, Brawler?" Experiment growled, his voice seeming to emnate from his stomach, "Come get me."
The sand worm swallowed the Lord of Rags hungrily, the digestive acids in its bowels sure to make quick work of the tattered pieces of cloth.
-------------
Burning's eyes widened, and seemed to dim for a moment. "Experiment? What are you doing he-"
The spines suddenly shot out, and flinging up a wall of flame was all Burning could to do to avoid being impaled. Kill him. You know why.
"I... do? Wait... that's right, Experiment's a villain! He hung out with that other one... Toy Dispensor! But Essex was there to and..."
He was there, that is what matters.
"Yes..." Burning flung his arms wide, a cord of flame stretching between them. He threw his palms up and the cord rapidly widened as it flew forward until a wall of fire was headed toward Experiment.
----------------
Inside the tower, they watched.
"You all doubted me. See how they turn on one another?"
"Yes, yes. Your anger was a perfect tool for this job, we agree with that. But it will take more if we are to bring them down forever."
"Once I go in search of troublesome targets, what will happen to them after they die?"
"If all goes well, that will be that. However, if I am to fall, what happened here will be irrelevant. It will all unravel, and things would be like they had never happened, with the exception of my own power being severely drained."
Each of the shadows nodded and murmured something in turn.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
The sand worm had just made a big mistake.
Outside on the surfuce of its skin...
The katana the Lord of Rags wielded was drenched in digestive fluid, but it neither dulled nor waned, remaining as brilliant and as perfect as it had always been.
The rag man itself was slowly rotting away.
Not fast enough though.
-----
Outside, there appeared a tiny glimmer of silver in the side of the sand worm. If anyone had been looking closely enough, they would have seen it was the tip of a katana.
A few moments passed.
*RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP*
The Lord of Rags burst forth from the stomach of the creature, rocketing straight through the stomach, bones, and organs. He had torn a huge hole in the side of the beast.
The wound was not fatal. It's own digestive acids were. Most if noit all creatures were not immune to their very digestive acids, the only things keeping them in check being the special stomach material. With the sand worm's stomach pierced like that, its very own digestive fluids leaked out.
And began to eat away the sand worm.
The rag man himself landed on the desert sand. He shook himself like a dog shakes after being drenched in water. Digestive goo flew to and fro. He seemed completely oblivious to the sand worm again.
Marcus took a long drag from his cigar.
"Ain't dis jus' da pits." He snorted to himself softly.
One of the two Underbosses that had been in his office when the flash of light had brought them here sighed in annoyance.
"S'always undead. Can't neva be jus' dead, always undead." The otherone mumbled, smacking a new drum into his Tommygun.
"Yer tellin' me." Marcus growled. "C'mon."
The group trudged through the forest, trying to keep their suits clean. They had only been walking for a while when they heard voices up ahead...
...Voices that Marcus recognized.
"Sh." He hushed his men, poking through the area ahead with a psychic probe.
Yep.
It was Toy.
"Pss, 'ey, Fashion Statement." The Consigliere hissed, "Down 'ere. Th' 'ell's y'alls doin' 'ere?"
Wolfgang was sleeping in Perez Park it had been his home for over a month now. It wasn't that he didn't have an apartment it was it was more peaceful here and on full moons, new moons or whenever he wanted he could get food. No one missed a Hellion here and skull there but CoT where his favorite. Sure heroes where sometimes sent to find out what had happened like when he had gotten a bit out of control and killed 30 or so and dragged there remains into the forest to hid them leaving a bloody streak across streets. He had been close to being caught a couple of time but he was always able to change into his hero form and deal with the situation by turning the hero around and telling him, her or it that a higher forces where at work and that from now one the situation was now being turned over to the Night Hunters an SG that has a cover for heroes that needed to feed to keep or strengthen their powers. The SG had vampires werewolves and all other assortment of killers of the night.
Now that had changed Xey was the one being stalked now by a SG named the Light of Liberty. their investigation had been unsuccessful in finding out who was at the root of the attacks and would have stayed that way if not a new member, a vampire, had not tried to feast on Asuria in the late night only to be beaten back and trapped by the morning sun and a group of heroes. He was interrogated and spilled the beans on the whole SG.
The day walkers where captured first then they made their move on the SG quickly taking out the guards before the alarm could be raised. One by one our SG was being destroyed our members being tooken down. Xey had only escaped by luck and a weak hero guarding the door.
"Xey put your arms up and turn around we have you surrounded!" said a hero
"Why are you chasing me I have done no wrong." Xey replied
"No Xey your right you have done no wrong but Wolfgang has and you are fully aware of what he dose and you did not turn yourself in and are there for an accessory to 58 charges of first degree murder."
"You will all die by my hand."
Xey drew his sword from behind his back and rushed forward to attack.
A snipers bullet raced toward his Xey's head and then hit a tree trunk Xey was no longer there.
--------------------
Xey had run into a tree he quickly got up and looked around.
"Well we are not in Perez anymore Toto" Xey said to himself
"Let me take over we need to scout out where we have been transported to." said the only voice in Xey's head that he trusted.
"Fine Im tired anyways."
A loud howl filled the forest and where Xey had been standing a grey wolf now stood.
With ears perked up Wolfgang slowly walked on he had picked up the smell of sweet and lazar fire he slowly walked towards it stopping when he saw the fight below. Wolfgang climbed up on a tree that was tilted and watched the fight below unfold.
Wolfgang felt the weak pull of Kessle to gain control of the body and kill everything. "This is wrong." Wolfgang thought to himself "I should only feel Xey. Kessel is not even a problem till night fall and then do we actually lose full control of the body at full and new moon nights"
Wolfgang remained in the tree watching, waiting.
((ok the reason Wolfgang and Xey arn't efected by the rage that seems to be efecting everybody ealse is because he has three diffrent souls in him 1 Xey-form of a human, 2-Wolfgang form of a grey wolf, and the last one 3-Kessel form of a werewolf. kessel is the one who is efected by it the most))
[url="http://www.g4tv.com/pile_player.aspx?video_key=16533"]http://www.g4tv.com/pile_player.aspx?video_key=16533[/url]
a City of Heroes movie on the way?
A loud curse cut through the tree line near a certain forest lake. Someone wasn't happy.
The man swore again as he checked the area around where he'd awoken, extremely displeased that the aim of his pursuit was nowhere in sight.
Bounty hunter by trade, he wasn't a generally cheerful individual anyway, but this just took the cake - jumping into the same portal right after, yet still winding up in a different place than the aim of your pursuit was extremely annoying.
Right now, he couldn't see anything but trees. The canopy was thick and unbroken at his present location, leaving no clue whatsoever to his position.
After a few seconds, he finally calmed down somewhat. With a tap to the neck of his armorsuit, the helmet opened and retracted. The man's head was human enough, the only real difference being the copper-colored skin and gray-green hair, which grew long over the scalp. A pair of blue blast goggles presently rested on his forehead, though it was obvious they could be slipped over the eyes in but a moment's notice.
One of said eyes looked terminally damaged, three large scars running across the ocular organ as well as most of that half of the face. Whether these scars crossed anything else remained to be seen, as a gray assassin's mask covered the lower half of the man's face, including throat and sides.
He sighed. What a day this had been - and it looked to be far from over.
His opponent seemed nowhere near at the moment, so he decided to focus on a quick self-check. Closing his eyes, he listened inward to the second voice in his head, that of the cybernetic systems that crisscrossed his body as well as linking him to the thin suit of armor.
Things seemed well enough. His ship had taken most of the beating, if he remembered correctly.
Dang...that one cost a good one too. I can't believe I'm already in the market for a new ship again.
Opening his eyes, he turned his head lazily to the nearby lake. He could just barely see a small part of water through the dense tree trunks, though the holes did allow a clear view of the opposite shoreline.
And there someone walked!
With a forceful jerk of his head, the man's blast goggles slid down and over his eyes, instantly focusing per his brain's instructions.
A woman. Long hair. Metallic black armor, scored with burnt runes and sigils. A user of knowledge, or so it appeared.
Alert. Unknown energy source attempting core processor penetration.
Hm? What? Figures there's a mentalist around just when ya don't need 'em. Effect?
Unable to determine. No direct effect observed. Calculating...to induce anger, hatred, and frustration at any intelligent being in sight, probability 96.02%. To induce...
Spare me, that one's high enough. Anger, hatred and frustration? Oh, I'm jam-packed with plenty o' that after a day like today!
Yeah, that made enough sense. Something was trying to tick him off. Too bad he was already way beyond there. Indeed, Blightlord's spell couldn't take effect here, as its purpose was already more than accomplished.
He focused on the woman again. From the looks of her, she was more likely to be in league with his adversaries than anything else. Even if not, the dark aura the man scanned about her promised anything but an innocent bystander.
Time to shoot first and ask questions later.
Approaching the gap in the trees, the bounty hunter drew an alien-looking, long-barreled beam rifle, and brought it to bear. The weapon discharged short-standing pulse beams with a narrow focus, which made it an excellent sniping tool. It could even rapid-fire, though this made it prone to overheating.
Still, in the world of the sniper, this wasn't much of an issue. One shot, one kill, that was the rule.
Armand Thyshe was no professional sniper - but he was damn good at it nevertheless.
Lying down in the shore brush, the bounty hunter took careful aim.
And squeezed the trigger.
The rifle discharged with a high-pitched report, sending a coherent beam of energy no more than a centimeter in diameter across the lake. Being pure energy, it traveled close to luminal velocities and carried enough penetration to shred through just about any target's armor with the greatest of ease.
This time, Haunting Amora was that target...
--------------------
The monster stirred.
Slowly but surely, an orange glow returned to dark, blank eyes. Wings crackled with energy as the black, almost skeletal constructs projected the familiar orange surfaces of solid energy once more.
Its massive head lifted from the ground, the body following soon after as the monster got to its feet again. The long tail slithered over a patch of grass, and the lipless mouth of rigid black teeth seemed to silently snarl at everything in sight as the large, four-fingered hands tested their flexibility.
No longer in a devastated city of smoke and fire, the creature's outer layer now reflected incoming light in a black, metallic luster. Resembling armor, it was broken only by the bright-orange eyes and wings.
The armor didn't look too well, though. Several large scratches and gashes were painfully obvious, from smooth cuts to boiled edges. It seemed to have been struck by all sorts of weaponry. From a few of these scars emerged fluid trails, though the nature of the partially dried liquids couldn't be determined without closer inspection.
Still, one thing was sure - the creature had been wounded.
To a random large rock lying about, however, this seemed irrelevant, as four large clawed fingers wedged it loose from the soil and carried it away. The sharp, rigid teeth of the creature's head made short work of the boulder as it was consumed in mere seconds.
Then the monster spied about once more, the head moving in a slow arc until it spotted movement.
Not just movement - battle. At the edge of a forest very near, a cadre of customized mechanoids and a man in T-shirt, jeans, jacket, and sunglasses (wielding a mace, no less) fought against what looked to be reanimated human corpses.
The monster started to move. Before long, it would step into their visual range...
--------------------
Vyachslav's mood could be summed up in one thought.
Fan-ta-stic.
Okay, so that obviously hadn't gone as planned. Waking up with a mouthful of dirt was never a very uplifting experience.
Dang...okay, so where am I this time? Hm, trees, grass, annoyingly low gravity, high nitrogen and oxygen content...is this Terra?
No, it couldn't be...unless someone or something had intercepted the gateway...and if...
Vyachslav chased those thought away. First thing was first. If one was transferred to an unknown location by an unknown actor, the first rule was to perform a diagnostic.
The results weren't pleasing. Exterior plating had suffered heavy damage, and structural integrity was compromised. Long-range artillery was offline and the plasma fuel cell low. Thankfully, the basic systems still operated within tolerance.
Alright, so raw material was the first thing needed here. A nearby rock was kind enough to provide plenty of mass, and Vyachslav's converter stomach could redistribute this mass in just about any needed way. Regeneration started almost immediately.
Next thing was to find any local sources of information. This Vyachslav had no trouble with. It just so happened there were several individuals nearby whose minds practically shouted out to the world to be noticed.
Then again, they weren't the calmest minds ever encountered.
The reason seemed obvious as soon as they were spotted. Fighting undead humans.
Vyachslav didn't like this development one bit. The zombies didn't explain everything, especially not the conflict raging inside the human with the mace. Something else was going on here.
Still, this was the only lead for now, however slim of a one it might have been.
Vyachslav spread his wings...and was shocked to find he got no lift!
A broadband scan tuned up the answer in mere moments - there was no cosmic background radiation here! The sun itself wasn't even real, just an illusion!
This was bad. Vyachslav was adapted to a galactic environment. His wings relied not on air or any atmospheric medium, but the hyperwaves of the stars. Since every star was a natural hyperfrequency emitter, this was quite practical - except when there were no real stars around.
An attempt was made to acquire another source directly from hyperspace.
Malfunction.
No dice. The damage to his body was too extensive for now. At present, the cloaking mechanisms were offline as well. Though Vyachslav could regenerate on his own now that he had material to draw on, it would take time - a good amount of time.
He looked towards the battling figures in the distance again, then surveyed the area around himself once more, hoping he might discover his friend - nothing.
Vyachslav was alone.
Vyachslav didn't like being alone...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
A boot placed itself on the head of a particulary annoyed Grave Knight. "Who is leading here?" asked The Uniter, his voice cold and calm.
The Knight snarled, kicking to break free. In the blink of an eye, The Uniter drew his pistol and shot both knees, breaking the rotted bone beyond use.
The Knight screamed curses of pain and torture which were ignored as the pistol was now placed against its skull.
"Who?"
"You stand no chance! You will be your own downfall! Your blood will water this ground and-"
The forest echoed the shot.
The Uniter wiped the gore off of his sleeve, and used the Knights own under-tunic to clean off his pistol. "These undead are too stupid to answer. We must go in search of other beings."
The thugs nodded, and the group moved on.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
"Hey Marcus," Toy said as he glanced at the trio of Family. "Fancy meeting you here. Did you know I have the sudden urge to shoot you?"
Ahead of the mastermind, Combat Toy had finally come within sight of King Slater and the pack of zombies. Legs pumping, the assault bot reached out to the side and yanked a thick sapling out of the ground as it ran past. Clutching the crude club in both hands, Combat Toy fired it's plasma beams, catching a pair of zombies in the chest and blowing them to pieces.
Taking one more step and then launching itself into the air, Combat Toy landed behind the undead and swept the sapling out like a broom, sending the undead sprawling.
"Get down!" Large Toy shouted at Slater as it ran to a stop next to the hero, kicking a twitching limb away and firing a trio of laser shots into a whole zombie.
Mini Bot charged around Slater's right side and literaly dived into the pile of zombies, it's shoulder mounted tentacles whipping about wildly, slicing through rotting limbs like a hot knife through butter.
"Retreat from this fight," Toy Bot ordered as it took up position next to Large Toy, it's bright green coloring easily marking it out and it's two plasma rifles pumping bolts of energy into the undead.
"Good thing there's zombies to kill instead, eh?" Toy asked as he pointed toward where his bots were fighting. "Would you mind lending a hand, bullet, or mind? Try to miss the kid, I think he might be friendly."
*******************************************
OOC: Chertak coming up in a minute.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
Slater fell to his rear and watched the robots decimate more of the zombies. Crab-walking backwards, he inched behind the line and let the machines work their merry work.
"This is crazy," he breathed, "What did I do to have attention drawn to me like this?"
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
The forest was filled with the echoing cries of birds, the shifting branches as wind brushed against them, and Amora's footsteps, crunching the dead leaves beneath her feet as she walked. Her eyes were still fixated ahead, as cold and devoid as ever.
She seemed to be at complete ease. That is, until the ray of blue energy came out of nowhere and hit her on her left flank.
Tumbling over, she let out a surprised cry, falling to her knees. Wincing, she gingerly placed her hands over her left side, taking them away, only to examine her hand slick with blood. Flushed anger overrode the pain, and a creeping darkness once more appeared, covering her. There was now a hole on the side of her metalliac armour, pale skin with a deep gouge on the side.
Still sitting down, her eyes shifted from tree to tree, looking for any signs of movement. The darkness slowly flowed away from her, curling themselves out, seeking as well...
"Who's there?" She asked, her voice cold, "Show yourself. You don't want to make me... angry."
The fight below was interesting but it became dull after a while then Wolfgang felt it a mental probe looking for information into this world. Whoever he was he had picked the most unstable mind in the bunch. The man with the mace seemed to be very confused and angry never a good combination.
"So Xey should we make contact with it?" asked Wolfgang
"I don't see why not he doesnt look hostile and is more stable than the others" Xey responded
Wolfgang began searching for the mind or the prober through the mind of the probie.
"Hmm this is just like back hacking" said Xey
"HA this is much more complicated than simple back hacking. I only hope I dont kill the guy with the mace. Replied Wolfgang
((OCC: being mental back hacked is not a pleasant sensation the frontal lobe of the brain would fell the same as when you get a dead arm))
"Found him. I'm ending back hacking and trying to establish contact" said Wolfgang
"Hello Vyachslav, you seam to be under control of yourself would you by chance know where we are?"
"You shouldn't have looked into his mind at all Wolf" scolded Xey
"I just did it to be familiar. Calm down and lets see how he responds" retorted Wolfgang
[url="http://www.g4tv.com/pile_player.aspx?video_key=16533"]http://www.g4tv.com/pile_player.aspx?video_key=16533[/url]
a City of Heroes movie on the way?
((Actually, he just listened in on the general emissions. You'd be surprised how many millions of signals per second just a human mind scatters into the air - and that's when sleeping. 
Think of it like standing in a very large room full of people constantly talking. You don't need to 'probe' anyone to listen in on the conversations.
Oh, and one more thing - people usually think about themselves in the first person. Since Vyachslav didn't think his name at any time, there's pretty much no chance Wolfgang got a hold of it. ))
--------------------
Normally, Thysthe probably would've ceased right about now, seeing how the woman seemed to be incapacitated.
Now wasn't normally.
Without him even realizing it, Blightlord's spell kept feeding his anger, his hostility.
He had to take her down - it was absolute!
Against all common sense, he clicked the safety off the beam rifle and deactivated the cooldown delay timer.
Across the lake, Amora had a quick chance to see a few blades of grass move as Armand shifted the beam rifle's barrel ever so slightly.
It was her only chance.
His finger squeezed the trigger again, sending another finely bundled energy beam rushing towards her.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
And another...
--------------------
Over the hill that had been blocking the view of those on the ground now came Vyachslav, once again on all fours. He wasn't used to covering anything but a short distance by any other means than flight, and though he was a biped, his nature instinctively had an aversion to the idea of walking on two legs for an extended period of time.
Being up in a tree, of course, Wolfgang had a clear view of him the entire time - unlike everyone else, who most likely just now laid eyes on the relatively large Vyachslav.
Then he sensed an esper on the mental plane.
Vyachslav instinctively drew back immediately, erecting a quick mental block over his surface thoughts.
Coincidentally, this also revealed another influence that had been trying to get at him this entire time. It wasn't strong, and being an avid telepath, Vyachslav had automatically placed a barrier without even noticing the signal. Now, however, things started to make a little more sense around here.
However, a close analysis revealed that even someone with no mental experience at all could overcome the suggestor's influence with enough willpower, unlike even the weakest sources of hypnosuggestion Vyachslav had encountered before.
Vyachslav immediately realized the implications of this: the suggestion was weak enough to influence people without them even noticing it, yet still send its commands with great distinction.
Did this mean the esper was a follow-up to it?
No...it had come from an entirely different 'direction' on the mental plane. The possibility that the source was the same existed, but Vyachslav calculated the chances of that at less than 0.72209%.
He carefully reached out to Wolfgang, making sure to keep the rest of his surface barrier up at all times. If he was wrong about this, he couldn't allow the source any information.
You speak the language of the mind. Who are you?
Throughout this period of thought, Vyachlsav had never stopped walking...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
((Echo...?))
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
"He has put up a barrier up around his mind, Xey"
"I would think so we would have liked an intrusion into our mind. Well go on you made contact answer him"
"We should put a barrier up as well"
"Why we have nothing to hide"
"Really, nothing to hide like how you where being chased by heroes?"
"Fine put up your barrier but only around sensitive subjects like parts of our past along with other information."
"I am Wolfgang of earth" replied
Wolfgang emerged a tree limb clearly visible to anyone that looked up.
((feel free to try to get information from his mind. Just a warning though you may not like what you find 
))
[url="http://www.g4tv.com/pile_player.aspx?video_key=16533"]http://www.g4tv.com/pile_player.aspx?video_key=16533[/url]
a City of Heroes movie on the way?
Marcus shrugged. "Ah don' really feel no urges or nothin'. Dis guy ain't as tougha psychic as 'e finks."
The ganger then proceeded to start exploding Zombie's heads by psychically imprinting on them the amount of money his crew had spent on drugs, smokes, and sex in the past month alone.
((I'm waiting on Prodi for Burning, personally. But I can shake some things up.))
Vyachslav and those around him heard a sudden click as a hatch slid open. A whirring sound alerted them as a trap was sprung, and several razor disks came flying from all directions towards them.
If one ducked, they would notice the disks turning to boomerang back at their targets.
-----------------------
A Grave Knight leapt from a tree, landing behind Marcus and swinging its sword at his middle in one quick motion.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Marcus flipped up his hand and the grave knight, along with its sword, suddenly became so heavy that it actually sunk into the loam from its own weight.
As the Grave Knight struggled to free itself, screeching curses at Curtis, a spectre rose from the ground, immediately screeching a powerful sonic wail.
Toy Dispensor also found a few of the ghosts assaulting him and his bots, tossing ectoplasmic goo and tossing screaming skulls.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
((Burning, what about the Response to the LoR?
.....
I can't believe I just said that...))
((Wasn't sure what to respond to, he seems to have gotten away.
For now at least. But if you insist. 
))
The Lord of Rags was safe from the sand worm, who even now was burrowing under the ground to heal, its now noticably grayish skin already mending itself.
But there was more danger up ahead. As he would continue, numerous pits awaited with various troubles in them such as acid and deadly snakes, spikes, and insects.
A shifting sound came from behind him. A wave of sand began rising into the air, much to high to leap over, and surged forward, forcing him into the direction of the field of hidden pits.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
"Oh joy, screaming ghost monkies," Toy remarked as the various ghosts started assaulting his bots.
But ectoplasmic flesh found itself being easily rent by Small Toy as the little battle drone dashed about, cloaking and then attacking from nowhere with the ghostslayer dagger installed in its left wrist. Toy Dispenser himself also laid into the ghosts, holding a couple of them in place by bending a bolt of lightning around their forms and completely paralyzing one by infusing its essence with his electricity.
"So, Marcus," Toy said conversationally as a screaming skull slammed into and dented his right shoulder plate. "Three guesses as to who might be behind this. And the first two guesses don't count."
Up in the front ranks, the rest of the bots were easily taking care of the normal zombies, ripping them to shreds with concentrated laser fire and barrages of more potent stuff. Taking a short break, Combat Toy fell back to where the hero was huddled up under a tree. The pitch black assault bot leaned down, getting it's glowing eyestrip right up in Slater's face.
"You gonna hide there all day, cape?" Combat Toy said with unrestrained malice. "Or are you gonna give us a hand for saving your sorry [censored]? I hope it's you don't. I like ripping capes to shreds."
Slowly leaning back up, Combat Toy gave King Slater one last glance, somehow managing to convey it's hate through an expressionless face, and then spun around and blasted a pack of newly formed ghosts with a barrage of incendiary missiles.
*************************************************
"Circumstances: Odd," Chertak said to himself as he checked his armor's systems. "Hyperkinetic accelerator: Fully functioning: Doesn't work."
After sensing a sort of mental scan coming from some being off in the distance, Chertak had raised his mental shields and subsequently noticed a strange compulsion that began eroding at his mental blocks. He couldn't tell what the compulsion would make him do, he wasn't a trained psychic, but he knew that it wouldn't be anything good. So, both for his mental health and to avoid being sensed by the other psychic, Chertak kept his shields up and tried to hide his presence as best he knew how.
Right now the Rikti Warmaster was standing on a clump of sod in the bare beginnings of the swamp. Analysis indicated that it would take him about forty more minutes moving at his normal speed to reach the city walls. And since his hyperkinetic accelerator was offline for some reason, he couldn't speed himself up and reach the walls in a tenth of the time.
The lack of resistance after he had pushed through the zombie horde slightly worried Chertak. He figured that either is was weak enough that the master of this realm didn't really care about him, which made Chertak worry about what he had gotten into, or the other undead were simply biding their time and waiting for Chertak to let down his guard, which made Chertak very paranoid as even mindless undead could penetrate his armor given enough time and numbers.
"Further speculation: Worthless," Chertak muttered to himself, finding comfort in the mechanical sound of his thought translator. "To carry on: Only recourse."
And so he did.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
((*facepalm* I HAD to pick the feakin desert didn't I?))
The Lord of Rags was bowled over by the wave of sand. However, he had no flesh nor bone to be carried away. He was a pile of animated rags. The individual bits of cloth simply passed through the wave.
The wave of sand continued forward, the Lord of Rags reforming behind it. However, the simple intelligence behind the animation magics that held the rag man together had been temporarilly disoriented and confused by the sudden change of direction. Not facing the tower any longer, the bloody rage and the urgent feeling to get to the tower momentarilly vanished.
The Rag man now how some time to actually think.
Had it been summoned by the Rag Ritual? No, unlikely. If it had been summoned via the ritual, it would have been bound already, or at least been conjured in front of the objective. It must have been brought forth by other means.
This presented a slight dilema, however. The rag man was used to following orders. That will happen to you when all you know is various combat stances and techniques, and know absolutely nothing about the actual world around you.
The Rag man currently had no master to give orders. So what should he do independantly?
The simple intelligence thought for a moment, and finally came to a conclusion. Independant thought would probably cause it to revert to possessive form, which was not acceptable. So it had to find a master.
Looking to the West, the rag man spotted a dense forest not half a mile away. He started to trudge towards it at a slow pace...
Chertak wandered unimpeded through the swamp which became danker and darker it seemed with every step. After a short while, the vegetation was so thick it was impossible to see ahead.
Which is when they ambushed him.
Grave Knights rose from water and muck all around him, their minds either 'off' or having been heavily shielded. The drew swords and charged.
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The Uniter and his group walked through the forest, a decent amount of walking corpses furiously hacking at the unbreakable shield surrounding the leader and his thugs.
Every now and again Match would casually toss a stick of dynamite behind him, creating loud bangs that would send body parts flying through the air.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
King Slater stopped when he saw the robot before him. Suddenly, the pain had returned... like something caressing his mind and... massaging it...
"You shot at me!?" he shouted, then wrenched his sunglasses off and dropped to one knee, "No... that can't be rrrrrgh..."
They shot at you, but you were lucky and they missed... Now's your chance to strike... Kill them... Kill... Them... Kill... Kill... Kill...
"...Kill... Kill..." Dustin muttered as one of the zombies broke through the withering blaster fire and grabbed his ankle.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Slater whirled around and smashed his mace into the monster's head.
Now it was different... Somehow... He had more pressing concerns, not just some petty... Vengeance? Why did he want to kill the machine? He didnt even know it... But they tried to shoot him. If they did, why were they killing zombies? It's a trick! Wait a minute... They?
One zombie got close but another bright beam decimated its head and a third of it's upper torso. Slater gave the side of his head a hard knock. Some of the influence seemed to fade, so he hit himself once more before driving his mace into another monster's chest, caving it in, but not really stopping the critter. A swift kick through the spine, however, collapsed what little it was able to do anymore.
Now, no longer facing the little robot that was providing him with cover, Dustin could think more clearly. He didn't know what would happen if he turned back to it, but he hoped this little exercise would clear the weird fog in his head. Oddly, the pain hadn't returned when he turned away from the Tower... Maybe the adrenaline was fighting it off... He didn't understand this place, the best he could do was make guesses... He hoped the machine didn't get it, too...
Another zombie was smashed to the ground and a beam seemed to pass by dangerously close, but it still vaporized most of another critter's working parts.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.