Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by Randomnator on Tue Oct 11, 2016 9:44 am

"Oi, why'd they shoot at us?!"

"Never mind that, we're goin' down!"

The damaged Hithe air carrier plummeted to the ground, its sensory spines waving frantically before it landed in a crumpled heap. The Hithe inside faired little better, the impact bouncing them around like ball bearings in a shaken jar.

"Everyone got all their bits?" one Hithe called out as he stood up, his left arm bending at an odd angle.

Several grunts came from the Hithe strewn around the inside of the transport.

"I'll take that as a no then," the Hithe muttered as he prodded his broken arm.

"Should we call the warlord?" someone over the back asked.

"Nah, he'd just call us spineless again. I say we go out there and smack 'em around a bit, then if it was 4328 and his group we ask 'em why they did it."

"Sounds a'ight."

"Can't think of anythin' better."

The first Hithe turned and tore the fleshy wall of the transport aside before kicking down the stony outer shell. With the newly made doorway complete, he beckoned to the rest of the crew.

"Then let's go smash some faces!"
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Back over near the Free Absolute fortress, 17 boarded his own transport. Once inside, the Hithe Warlord nestled back into one of the many spongey slots that lined the vessel's inner walls as the rear hatch slid shut. Near the bow of the air carrier the twin pilots guided the creature back into the sky, their arms inserted up to the elbows in the mash of organic tubes and tendrils.

Further back another Hithe stood guard next to a salvaged grav bike, the metal vehicle lodged with some difficulty into another slot on the opposite side of the transport. 17 surmised that the only reason it was there was because its owner wanted to keep a close eye, Hithe culture firmly sticking to the idea of "finders keepers."

From his spot near the back 17 could still see out the thin membrane that counted as a windshield. Even now he could spot the crooked shape of the sunlit sickle, its peak missing an almost perfectly circular section of rock, as if lost by some kind of vanishing trick.

"Anything else from the team near the mountain?" 17 asked.

"Nope. We got nothing, boss."

The warlord settled back into the recess with a snort, deciding to wait for when they arrived.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Seed of death...under our very noses...watching, waiting...growing. Singularity, point, convergence, 1 is death, 1 is death, 1 is death..."

The Prophet of Molth's wardens watched their prisoner rock back and forth in her cage, the prison swaying on its chain as she muttered ceaselessly.

The shorter of the two turned to the other. "What's the nutter goin' on about this time?" he asked, more bored than curious.

"Dunno," the other replied, "She started doing this when I pulled her back on the ship. Hitting the cage usually shuts her up, try that."


Last edited by Randomnator on Tue Oct 11, 2016 8:14 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by Whos on Tue Oct 11, 2016 4:33 pm

Vessen, watching from above, saw the disorderly Hithe spread out from their crashed transport. Some of the more injured Hithe left trails of bodily fluids behind them as they moved along, the survivors clearly searching for someone or something. Vessen decided it was time to introduce himself.

Retreating to the uppermost part of his commandeered skyfish, he took a running jump off of the edge, and barreled down towards the Hithe party.

During his descent, although he couldn't feel the biting cold of the air, he felt more alive than ever before. Before? What was before? He knew very well what was before, but he chose to forget it. Blissful ignorance, or self-deception. He didn't care, and happily focused his attention on the Hithe warrior directly below him. A moment later, Vessen had literally stabbed into the brute, his energy bayonet plunging deep into the Hithe's neck as the kil came down upon him. Another moment passed, and Vessen had recovered from his impact, now on his feet and facing the rest of the Hithe.  He pulled out a plasmatic handgun, and immediately fired several of the green, rectangular bolts into the nearest foe's chest. Vessen proceeded to scream something in a general Loccalian dialect.

"Call for reinforcements!"

_______________________________________________
I am smarter than the average smartest person - Darkel

I can multitasking - Prussian

I actually was busy trying to get more gonger ale - Prussian

Also...just because you rescued a male chick and called him Kevin, doesn't mean I care. - ViperaUnion

But in retaliation, I'm going to add all your typoes to my sig. - Prussian

It's not a horror game, it's more of a pussle - Prussian

Follow the Bloody Brick Road - Prussian

Shut your skittley little mouth - Darkel

I'm actually quite humble, I just love to mess with scurbs. - Canis_dirus

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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by ShadowBroker on Mon Oct 17, 2016 3:47 pm

Lord Hunter's ship will continue to move until it lands in the given location by the transmission.

Once the ship reaches the planet's surface. The hatch opens as a liftgate, falling over the ground making the sound of old metal forcing itself to work. chains following behind as it was rudimentary.

From inside, four guards would come out, wearing their rifle-spears at the ready, tip aiming the sky crossing the shoulder from their left side. Behind them, once they were set up, Lord Hunter and Sura Orx would step down from the ship to finally meet the planet of Ralcath, not impressed as it's been torn apart by war.

"Why it looks lifeless?" Sura Orx comments on their native language.

However Lord Hunter does not responds to that as he waits for someone to meet him, locking his hands behind his dark-blue cloak as he watches the aliens reaching him.

The Guards would react as naturally, preparing the rifles on lock'n'load. The energy of their weapons would be already charged for the piercing fire but they stood there, without firing a shot.

Lord Hunter speaks up, translating his words, "You aren't the one who spoke to me." he states making a step forward, "You seem to rule over those who follow you, are you an Elder?" an elder, for them, was one that knows but does not fight in the battles.

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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by Alimnation on Wed Oct 19, 2016 10:21 pm

"If by Elder you mean a warrior who has seen many battles then yes. I am General Rodox Oxrov. As for Lt. Avlex he will be joining us shortly. He is going through a brief debriefing." The General does a welcoming salute. "Now who do I have the pleasure of meeting today? Also I apologize about the look of the planet it has still not recovered from the latest war." The General finishes then and waits for a response.

Meanwhile the Lt. has finished his debriefing and is walking through the halls to the meeting point. Listening to the gossip around him. "They still haven't seen or heard anything from Survivor.." "Damn. That is not good. Many groups are going crazy without him to take people out or do odd jobs." "I know I wouldn't be surprised if we got hit by an extremist group..." All of the gossip was starting to get to Avlex as he approaches the door to the meeting area and enters silently.
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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by ShadowBroker on Thu Oct 20, 2016 6:47 am

Lord Hunter bowed slightly as he stood still, Sura Orx fall in line, bowing as well. "I am Lord Hunter, vassal of House Warden and protector of the Vod'shka's will." He finishes his own introduction as he continues stating, ignoring the fact of the graveyard that was the planet, "Our flagship met your patrol, we suspected that your specie is sensitive enough to understand our words and our purpose. We hope we didn't believe wrong."

Sura Orx steps forward, "I am Sura Orx, Lord Hunter's squire." she responds, focusing her glance on the General. The General may notice that beyond the armor and the helmets, the only thing that made a difference between females and males were their voices; "I'm in charge on translating our culture to your people and your culture to ours." she bows once more but she needed to ask, "A war? Against whom?"
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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by Randomnator on Mon Oct 31, 2016 12:44 am

The stabbed Hithe gurgled before keeling over, his spine severed from Vessen's surgical strike. The other warrior doubled up as the energy blasts pierced his ribs and fried his organs before he too hit the dirt, dead. The rest however ignored the Jorro'kil's order, trampling their fallen brethren to get to the foe that had appeared out of nowhere.
____________________________________________________________________________________________

"Oi boss, we got fighting down there!"

"Where? Where?!"

The pilot ripped his arm from the control pools and pointed a sticky finger over towards a rocky crest on the side of the mountain. 17 followed the direction until he saw two air carriers lying inactive in the snow while a group of Hithe tried to bring a solitary warrior down.

Judging by the number of bodies strewn on the ground, they were failing.

17's eyes narrowed. "So close and something else gets in my way again. Get us over there, I'll have that upstart's head on a spike by sundown!"
____________________________________________________________________________________________

The air carrier flew past as 17 and two other Hithe dropped down onto the snow, the warlord's tatty flag cape blowing in the wind.

Unsheathing his mace, the Pale King bellowed into the swirling melee before him. "If you knew what's best for you, you'd run now you stupid bird!" he shouted.
____________________________________________________________________________________________

"See, she calmed down."

"I dunno, should she be frothin' at the mouth like that and bein' all twitchy?"

"Nutter's a nutter, I see nothing wrong with that."
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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by Whos on Sat Nov 05, 2016 5:36 pm

Vessen sidestepped a Hithe warrior's attack, shifting direction at the Pale King's call. He turned to face the Warlord. At last, Vessen thought; now there was someone of importance for him to steal from.

The kil, clad in what appeared to be layers of metal, strode towards Warlord 17. As he stepped forward, he spoke to the Hithe in a basic Loccalian dialect.

"I need a ship, one with more.. traditional controls. You will give one to me, or I will kill you and take it by force. What is your answer?" The kil impudently said. He gripped his energy bayonet with his talons, ready for combat.


_______________________________________________
I am smarter than the average smartest person - Darkel

I can multitasking - Prussian

I actually was busy trying to get more gonger ale - Prussian

Also...just because you rescued a male chick and called him Kevin, doesn't mean I care. - ViperaUnion

But in retaliation, I'm going to add all your typoes to my sig. - Prussian

It's not a horror game, it's more of a pussle - Prussian

Follow the Bloody Brick Road - Prussian

Shut your skittley little mouth - Darkel

I'm actually quite humble, I just love to mess with scurbs. - Canis_dirus

Whos : Ah, I like my bleach straight..

curius : In the eyes
"
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Re: Flesh and Blood - IC | Chapter 1 - Spite

Post by Randomnator on Wed Nov 23, 2016 11:04 pm

The Pale King cocked his head at Vessen’s order, lips twitching in anger. The idea that someone would have the gall to demand - no, even stand up to him when their brethren had fallen so easily was confusing and deeply unsettling. Many a planet had fallen under 17’s heel and every time the last defenders had begged and grovelled before they too were slain. This was something rare and definitely not sane.

17’s mind recoiled from what was deemed dangerously emotional activity and instead focused on what the upstart would look like as red paste scraped off his mace. A simpler and far more appealing concept for the Hithe neural web to safely process.

“An answer huh? You’ll have your answer when I put my fist through your spine!”

Shoving aside one of his lackeys, the Pale King marched towards the membrane-encased Jorro’kil. Now a few feet away of his foe and unfazed by the energy blade pointed at his throat, the warlord shouted back over his shoulder to the ragtag group of warriors.

“Any of you who even thinks of getting a hit in on either of us will be strapped to the nose of the ship when I’m done with this one!” 17 bellowed, flexing his free hand for emphasis.

The Hithe that were still upright and not leaking fluids looked back and forth between Vessen and their leader, sizing up whether their bloodlust or survival instinct would win out. One by one they all backed down, sheepishly trying not to look at one another.

Satisfied, the Hithe warlord turned back to Vessen, running his tongue over broad, pointed teeth. “Good, at least the cannon fodder knows their place. Now to PUT YOU IN YOURS!”
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