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| Pandora's Blood; The RP Thread | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 30 2008, 11:27 PM (751 Views) | |
| Mittoo | Jan 11 2010, 05:01 PM Post #31 |
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The time of day was less than ideal. Thaddeus liked to eat between most people's meals. He claimed it was to make sure that not everyone was eating at the same time, but not even he was sure he believed that. His guard duty, however, ended as the market was still going, and people would be buying for the evening meal. He would have to deal with the crowds today, however, because they would disperse when Marcus was due to leave. Thaddeus went to a specific stall - the one he went to last time, and the one at which he met Marcus. As predicted, the man was there, chewing steadily through a small lump of cheese. Thaddeus took the deliberate time to peruse what was on offer, as invisible as only a Molaivian can be. Eventually, he spoke. "Hm. I am sure that the choice of food was better the last time you came, Marcus. Have your standards slipped in this time?". He let out a wry smirk at this, turning his head to look at Marcus. The man chuckled, giving Thaddeus a lazy salute as he approached. "Standards are a luxury these days, no? How goes the settled life?" Thaddeus's tone seemed to droop in response, his smirk fading as if it had never been there. "As well as it can. People distract themselves by guessing where I am from. I envy your adventure; all I know here is to be bored or be killed." Marcus riposted, "Hm. Adventure, if you can call it that. Long hours on the road, and always the threat of demons." Thaddeus gave this some thought, remembered something, and looked seriously at Marcus now. "They say that some have been killed. More than..." Thaddeus glanced around suspiciously, before simply continuing, "More than mine." Marcus raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a frown. "They do? Where'd you hear this?" "Your men are skilled, but they are not silent. Rumours spread for those with the ears to hear them." "So, who do the rumours credit with these kills?" "No-one yet. But I can guess." Thaddeus gave a sideways glance at Marcus with this, implying the conclusion need not be said. Marcus' eyes darted from side to side, though his body remained in its relaxed posture, betraying no anxiety. "And who would be your guess?" Thaddeus nodded, though he felt that both men knew the answer. "You are a leader of your men for a reason, Marcus. It would not surprise me." Marcus remained silent at this, eyes never leaving Thaddeus's face. The lines of his body had turned tense, somehow, though to the casual eye there was yet no change. "You don't seem like one to spread them yourself, Thaddeus. I'll trust to that." Finally he moved, taking another bite out of the small block of cheese he was snacking on. "The main festivities await the arrival of the Colonel. Be at our circle tonight." Thaddeus smirked, his suspicion confirmed. "Perhaps it is time I ask the good Colonel whether I am truly needed here. I have gotten into the habit of disarming my perimeter bombs so that I can re-set them. Part of me hungers to see a demon, Marcus. To see that they truly can be killed." "I can understand that, my friend. But wait for tonight before you make any decisions, yes?" Thaddeus paused at this. "What changes tonight? I do not understand." "I don't know. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything." Marcus sighed, rubbing his temples. "But mostly, I'd not steal you from Drake without him knowing the reason." "You are right. I owe him a thank-you, at least. And you have my word, Marcus. I will not reveal your secret, if you will not cheat on the bet around here. I hope you will not be tempted by the large prize!" Thaddeus let out a smirk at that. "I will be with you at nightfall, Marcus. Just call for me." Marcus chuckled at the mention of the betting pool, and slapped the Molaivian on the shoulder. "You must admit, though, that that prize would do much for morale! Ah well, we all must make sacrifices. I will see you there, then." Thaddeus wandered through a crowd that was now rapidly dispersing to reform elsewhere for the night's festivities. He did what he always did at night; climbed on top of a very specific cruise liner hull - specifically chosen for its wide area view from the top - sat down, pulled his rifle apart, and began the slow process of cleaning it. |
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| Squall250 | Jan 12 2010, 11:06 PM Post #32 |
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Terra let out a relieved sigh as she slipped into the warm water, savoring the feeling against her worn out body as she settled into the cramped tub. The size didn't bother her much, really. She hadn't had a chance to relax in... Probably a week, and she didn't even want to think about how long it'd been before that since she'd bathed, which made her quite vigorous as she started scrubbing at her dirty, dusty skin. She took quite some time to make sure she was good and clean, glancing now and then at the heavy screens which surrounded the open air bath. It was about as much privacy as she could expect, with the way things were going in the world at this point. There was a reason she hadn't been able to bathe in at least a couple of weeks. Clean water wasn't exactly sitting around, at least in the quantities needed for a proper bath or shower. Rain was common enough, but lakes and ponds just didn't seem to hold it for long. It was as if the earth itself was drinking it in a desperate gambit to survive. A swimmer's nightmare, she thought wryly. Sighing, she leaned back to relax for a little while before dinner, her eyes drifting shut as she curled her body up in the water. So comfortable, nice and warm, soothing. It felt like forever since she'd felt so comfortable... “Terra.” Her eyes snapped open as she heard her name, spoken as if a whisper in her ear, yet as she turned she found nothing. Just the same, it sent a shiver down her spine, and she curled herself up a little tighter as she leaned back in the bath. Laying her head back, she sighed, whispering to herself, “I must be going crazy.” Her eyes drifted shut again, slowly, a little more warily. “Terra.” Again her eyes snapped open, but this time she lurched forward, slamming her knees against the side of the tub and throwing a bit of water out. “Dammit!” She hissed under her breath, more in surprise than anything else. Again her eyes darted around, but there was nothing to be found. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back again, bracing herself slightly in the bath. Just what was going on? She took a deep breath, calming herself after a few minutes as she began to relax again. She curled her body up, getting comfortable, and then colors began to dance on the edges of her vision. She couldn't make them out, they changed too quickly, but she was starting to find it hard to keep her eyes open. Her body relaxed a bit more, and her head rolled back as her eyes fell shut. Clouds, everywhere. She couldn't see more than a foot in front of her, couldn't even see the ground she was standing on. Wait, no, there was no ground below her. That explained a few things. She turned her body, finding that it was rather easy; as soon as the thought crossed her mind, her body turned, though she knew she wasn't moving her legs. It felt... Strange. But then, she was also remotely aware that she was not exactly conscious. She tried to see through the clouds, find some kind of hint as to why she was here. And then she found that she could move forward. It was more like floating, really, but the effect was more or less the same. Her body moved forward, pushing through the clouds, though no matter how long she moved she didn't seem to get anywhere. The clouds changed, yes, but every cloud she passed through meant another one in her way. And then, even as she was beginning to give up hope, the clouds changed from dreary grays to vibrant oranges and reds, as if the sun was about to peek through them. She admired this for a moment, smiling at the beauty of it, but it was a fleeting thing, for moments later the vibrant reds became dull yellows, ugly browns and depressing blues. Finally, the clouds parted, and what greeted her shook her to the core. “Ryst...” She whispered. She couldn't see his face. But she... She felt that it was him, there was no doubt in her mind. He was so strange, though... Not at all like the brother she knew. His hair was silver, shimmering as it fell to his knees in sleek waves. His body was... Lithe, but powerful, built for speed and strength—far more than he'd ever had before. His skin... She realized it wasn't his skin she saw, but his body was covered in sleek, shimmering obsidian scales. Massive, clawed wings, spanning at least thirty feet spread from his back, but they were so thin it looked as if he could fold them tight against himself. He turned, slowly, and she could see his black, empty eyes. “Terra,” he whispered, and again the voice seemed as if it came from right beside her. “Come to me. Join me. We will recreate this world... as it was meant to be.” She shook her head, suddenly finding land beneath her and stepping back. “No... Ryst... What...” Tears stung at her eyes as she stumbled backwards, barely catching herself. “What happened to you?” “Come to me, Terra...” As soon as he'd finished speaking, a multitude of shadowy tendrils burst from his body and screamed towards her with enough force to rip straight through her body. She froze, and then instinct took over, and... She woke with a loud gasp, throwing herself forward again. Her knees slammed harder this time and the wood groaned, but held, even as Terra cursed in protest. Eyes were wide as she looked around, her breaths coming fast and heavy, mind racing. “What... What was that...” She whispered to herself, shaking her head, “Ryst... What have you done...” She tried to relax a few moments longer, but found that there was none to be had for her anymore. She was clean, and the mood was gone. Sighing, she slipped out of the bath and grabbed the towel, drying herself and then putting her clothing back on before opening the screen and stepping out. She was surprised by how dark it had gotten—how long had she been out? She tossed the towel over the screen, too shaken to even really think of what else to do with it, and made her way towards the circle where Caesar was sitting. She found a seat beside him and wrapped her arms around herself, taking a slow breath. It was pretty obvious that she was shaken by something; she couldn't hide it, no matter how hard she tried. And she was clearly trying. Come to me, Terra... It was ingrained in her mind... a demand that wouldn't go away. She shook, keeping silent as her head drooped slightly. Drake was not long behind her, coming from the gates and snapping off a salute in greetings to Caesar. “All's clear at the watch, permission to join your meal?” He asked, grinning slightly. It was half in fun, but nearly as much it was clearly part of his nature. |
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| The Dragon Knight | Feb 7 2010, 10:48 AM Post #33 |
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The young girl was crouched on the bare earth floor of her hut, giggling as she played with a small straw doll that her granny had made for her. The hut was sparsely furnished, containing only the barest of essentials, but to this little girl it was home. Her grandma, her only blood relative to survive the Cleansing, as many of the devoutly religious had called the sudden sweep of destruction, was currently laying down on a worn, thin mat, her wrinkled hands holding a book which she read by the flickering light of an old kerosene lamp. “Granmama,” the little girl's voice inquired, “why is that stick wiggling like that?” The old woman, thinking that the child was simply being imaginative again, lowered her book and smiled over at the girl. She saw the tiny outstretched arm, the finger at the end pointing at something near the flap of old blue tarp that served as a door. The woman's eyes followed the gesture, expecting to see a piece of rope or some such moving from the breeze. What she saw, however, made her eyes widen in horror. The 'stick' was indeed moving, the long, scaly body slowly winding its way further into the hut. The old woman's eyes could make out the diamond shaped pattern along its body and identified it for what it was; a diamondback rattler. “Giselle,” she whispered urgently, “come over here sweety. Move very slowly and don't make any sudden moves. Come on, honey! Come to me!” The old woman was trembling in fear as the coiled killer moved steadily closer to them. By now the little girl knew that something was wrong. Even small children had grown more attuned to danger since the demons had wiped out most of humanity. Eminent extinction has a way of forcing a race to adapt. Giselle pushed herself slowly back towards the wall before inching her way closer to her grandmother. She had heard the fear in the old woman's voice and knew that this was something she should also be afraid of. A small whimper escaped her lips as she reached the edge of the mat. Her grandmother pulled her close and shielded the young body with her own, keeping an eye on the serpent and hoping with all of her might that it would simply leave when it found no source of food. No demon, this, but to the two humans trapped in a corner it made little difference. Even in this era of fear and demonic destruction it was important to remember that nature itself was still just as dangerous to the unwary. The diamondback stopped a few feet away from the trembling women, it's forked tongue flicking in and out, in and out. So much devastation had been wrought to its natural habitat that food had become scarce. Animals that would have once fed on smaller creatures like rats and rabbits had been forced to hunt larger fare in order to survive. The tail of the creature stood up, flicking back and forth with a sick rattling sound that sent a chill to the old woman's core. The little girl in her arms peeked out at the monster that lay coiled tightly only a stone's throw from her fragile form. She gazed into the pitch black orbs of its eyes and saw death in them. This beast meant to eat tonight, and she was the smallest prey it had found. The rattler tensed, it's coils shifting, and an instant later it sprang forward with a venomous hiss. The strike never landed. A flash of silver tore through the blue tarp, slamming down into the top of the snake's wedge shaped head and pinning it to the bare earth as the body whipped about and writhed in its death throes. The young girl stared in wide eyed fascination at the finely crafted handle that jutted from the top of its head. The tarp crackled as it was pulled aside, and the old woman looked up in renewed fear at the giant form that stood silhouetted in the entrance. Then the figure stepped forward, and the light from her lamp illuminated the features of the intruder. She sobbed in relief at the sight. Ivan approached the still twitching mass and knelt down next to it. His hand reached out and deftly plucked the knife from the corpse. He looked into the eyes of the little girl and smiled, reaching out his other hand to gently ruffle her hair. The girl grinned up at her savior and moved out from her grandmother's protective embrace to give one of her own to the good Doctor. He patted her head and smiled. “It's alright now, Giselle. Remember the law of the world, now; eat or be eaten. The two of you have some fresh meat tonight. Now be good, and remember to help out your grandmother as much as you can.” He stood up once more, his body hunched over in the small hut, and offered them a wave before departing. As the tarp slid back into place, the grandmother let out a great exhalation of relief. She would never understand how that man was always right where he was needed the most, but she was forever grateful that he had decided to join their little community. Outside of the hut, Ivan cleaned the blade of his knife with an oiled cloth. He looked up at the moon and let out a small sigh. He had been awakened from his slumber by another premonition, an image of the the girl and her guardian curled in a corner with a shadowy figure wrapping itself about them, fangs glinting in the light as it struck. He'd had these mysterious images ever since he was a boy. At first he had written them off as dreams, but when he noticed that they were coming true he had started to listen to the images. His actions had certainly done him no harm in terms of reputation, and saving the lives of the people in his dreams had cemented his desire to become a doctor. It had been at his father's insistence that he had studied the sword, when all he really wanted to do was study medicine. It had been his father that had told him, “You cannot always save a person without harming another.” He had quickly learned the truth of this and had devoted himself to learning his father's trade as thoroughly as his mother's. He silently thanked his father as he reflected that this was yet another instance where he would not have been able to save anyone if it had not been for his skill with the blade. Well, he thought to himself as his feet carried him towards the main gathering area, I'm already awake. I may as well see what's happening with the rest of the town. Small puffs of dust, stirred up by his passing steps, drifted along the empty street in the night breeze. He whistled tunelessly to himself as he moved, and soon came to the edge of the plaza. There were a number of groups gathered around fires, people talking with one another, working out trade agreements or catching up on the latest gossip. He spied the Colonel approaching one such group and he identified the man seated on an old log as the Caesar. He wasn't sure who the young woman next to him was, but supposed she must be a member of his Legion. Still, as he glanced at her he felt something.... strange. A feeling as if he should know her, like a distant familiarity. He shrugged his shoulder and surveyed the rest of the groups. The one closest to Drake's had brought out a collection of old instruments, some antiques that had been meticulously cared for out of love, others nothing more than scavenged junk that had been converted into makeshift drums, flutes and penny whistles. One man had even carved an ocarina out of a piece of driftwood. They were playing around with the instruments and trying to come up with something they all knew. Ivan smiled to himself and made his way over to the group, his long shadow playing over them. The men and women glanced up, at first in surprise, and then they grinned and greeted him warmly, inviting him to join in their revelry. He courteously accepted and sat down on an overturned bucket, next to a man who was strumming a battered old guitar. Since the motley crew of musicians seemed at a loss, Ivan cleared his throat and began to sing. His clear baritone rang out over the various conversations and carried on the breeze as he sang an old military tune that he had once learned from the Colonel himself. The rest of the group laughed and began to pick up the melody of the old, familiar tune “Keep the Home Fires Burning.” “They were summoned from the hillside They were called in from the glen, And the country found them ready At the stirring call for men. Let no tears add to their hardships As the soldiers pass along, And although your heart is breaking Make it sing this cheery song: Keep the Home Fires Burning, While your hearts are yearning, Though your lads are far away They dream of home. There's a silver lining Through the dark clouds shining, Turn the dark cloud inside out 'Til the boys come home.” Other voices began to join in as various other groups stopped their conversations to listen. Some of them turned to watch and it seemed that more and more people began to join in the singing of a song of hope. It was a reminder to them that no matter how dark the evil that haunts their land, there is always a ray of hope as long as there is something worth fighting for. |
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| tormenteddragon | Mar 8 2010, 07:44 PM Post #34 |
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Something weren't right. She just took her seat without a word. She was shaking, which could be chalked up to being cold, sure, but somehow, he didn't think it were just that. But he couldn't be sure. He'd only just met her, after all. Best to assume it were the cold. So he took off his jacket, and put it around her shoulders. "Air gets a bit chilly, 'specially after a bath." She tensed slightly as her thoughts were interrupted, but quickly relaxed and turned her head to look at him, a small smile on her lips. "Mm," she mumbled, nodding, "Thank you." And then the other guest of honor showed up, and Marcus rose to greet him with a salute of his own. "Permission granted, Colonel! Have a seat, and fill your plate." He then took his own advice. Best to reveal shocking news when all parties in question have full bellies. Colonel Drake nodded, stepping into the circle and grabbing a plate. He didn't exactly load up, but he did take a fair amount; enough to satisfy his hunger and perhaps a little extra, but he knew better than to overfill himself. An attack could come at any moment, and he had to be ready for it at all times. Marcus took the liberty of filling a plate for Terra, and passed it to her. And it was at this moment that a song he knew, that, in fact, all of the Legion knew, started playing. "Keep the home fires burning, eh?" he muttered, a grin playing at his lips. "What say, Drake? Should we join in?" Terra looked up at him as he passed her a plate, lips pursing even as she nodded and took it from him. She set it onto her lap, and about the same time she heard a song rise within the camp. It was... familiar, but she didn't know the words. Still, she relaxed slightly, closing her eyes as she listened. And Drake, hearing the song even as he looked to Marcus, grinned, nodding. "I never miss an opportunity," he answered, and said nothing more before he joined in the singing of that hopeful song. Marcus wasted no time in adding his own powerful baritone to the venerable tune, taking it through to its conclusion. Overseas there came a pleading, "Help a nation in distress." And we gave our glorious laddies Honour bade us do no less, For no gallant son of freedom To a tyrant's yoke should bend, And a noble heart must answer To the sacred call of "Friend." Keep the Home Fires Burning, While your hearts are yearning, Though your lads are far away They dream of home. There's a silver lining Through the dark clouds shining, Turn the dark cloud inside out 'Til the boys come home. As the last hopeful strains concluded, he grinned. "Someone here knows how to start a meal off, no? So, since we have the time for chit-chat," he said, sitting down and picking up his plate once again, "how have the past few months been here?" "Indeed they do," answered the colonel, and he picked up his plate and took a bite, looking to Marcus as he spoke. "Things have been calm," he replied, "Quiet for the past month or so. A few small incidents before then, but nothing major lately. It's got everyone up in arms, just waiting for something to happen." Terra was silent for the majority of the song, but as it came to the second chorus, her voice joined the rest. It was soft, quiet, and she could barely hear herself; certainly doubted anyone else would hear her. But this helped to calm her somewhat, and by the end, the dream was all but gone from her mind. She ate, and looked to the Colonel and Marcus, listening. The two leaders talked, discussing the various problems each had to deal with, the various battles they'd had, the fact that survival so far was largely due to luck. As they continued to chat, the topic of the conversation moved largely to plans for the future, ways to keep their charges alive and well. It was as Drake was expressing his frustration at the simple fact that you couldn't actually kill the demons that Marcus looked around, and noted the Moldaivian's presence at the circle. Well. It was now or never... But he looked, first, to Terra, asking her wordlessly for her approval, once again. He was determined, now, to reveal his own ability, but if she felt the need to keep quiet, he would not out her. She ate slowly, paying more attention to Drake and Marcus than she did her food, and as the conversation turned towards killing the Demons, she knew what revelation was soon to follow. And there was the look from Marcus. She bit her lip softly, considering for a moment... And then nodded, slowly, but without hesitation. "Actually, Colonel," he said in response, nodding back at her. "They're not completely invulnerable. You know that the diggers don't like vibrations, and the smaller ones can be beaten off by peppering them with bullets. Some of the bigger ones, too, you can beat off by shooting them in the weak spots. You know, the joints, the eyes, the mouth." He halted, here, looking straight into Drake's eyes. The older man was silent, his brow furrowed. Clearly he knew there was more to come. "And, Colonel, truth to tell... I've killed them. More than a few." His eyes turned to the fire, the memories returning. "First time... well, it was before Bill died. The caravan had the nasty luck to run up against a big one. It was some kind of big lizard - Book named it a salamander. We hit that damn thing with everything we had, but like you know, even armor piercing rounds didn't do jack. When it got close, Shane started aiming at its eyes, and he got more than a few rounds spot on. It just made the beast angrier, but it was at least reacting. So I decided to take a shot at that, too." He shook his head. "For some reason, where Shane's bullets didn't even scratch it, mine sunk right in. And as its blood started spurting out, I just kept pulling the trigger." His eyes found Drake's again, and his expression was dead serious. "I'm a good marksman, Colonel, but we were on a bumpy road, on top of a truck that was pushing its engine to the limits, and I was aiming at a target no bigger than your fist. And that lizard didn't keep its head all steady for me either. But I swear to you, every damn round hit that eye. "I don't remember how many times I shot it... but eventually the salamander went down. Since then, I've found out that, so long as I can get a good bead on a vulnerable spot, I can kill it." He put one hand on Terra's shoulder. "From what we saw of the corpse at Haven, she can kill them too." Drake's eyes were wide as he listened to Marcus' story. He'd finished his food by now--and a good thing that was, for he'd not have been able to eat the rest of the night if not--and had resigned himself to listen intently. It was unbelievable, to say that least. He'd never seen one go down, hell, never heard of it; and here was Marcus, a man he'd known since not long after the Box was opened, and he could kill them! Not only that, but the girl too? Terra, this woman he'd come upon by chance? Terra nodded slowly, wrapping the jacket a little tighter around herself as she looked at the Colonel. "Yeah..." She says quietly, nodding, "There was an attack on Haven shortly after I arrived there. A shrieker. It laid me out pretty good but I managed to bring it down." Biting her lip, she lowered her gaze, sighing, "The one that came after that, though... I couldn't save them." She shook her head, looking at Marcus, "But somehow the children survived. That's good, at least." Drake's eyes were still wide, but he managed to regain some measure of composure, nodding slowly as he considered this. His hand came up, stroking lightly at his chin. "So... From believing them unkillable, to learning that not one, but two amidst the camp can do the deed?" He chuckled, setting his plate aside as he looked to Marcus. "This is hopeful news, my friend." It wasn't the first time she'd told anyone, though it was the first time she'd offered the information without some kind of push beforehand. At Haven, she'd had to display her abilities; there wasn't much choice at that point. Here, though, she was willingly allowing the information to be shared. It might be a mistake, true... But she felt confident that it was not, that this Colonel was trustworthy. And so she gave Marcus a small smile, before turning to look at Drake. The Colonel nodded slowly. "I can understand your hesitation in telling me, my friend," he said, "And I shall keep this silent. I was an army man, Marcus, I know fully well the way the human mind works. Unless more of you start cropping up, it would be best to keep this silent, at least for the time being. You have my word that this information will not leave this circle." |
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| Mittoo | Mar 25 2010, 02:26 PM Post #35 |
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With Marcus's revelation, all eyes seemed to be on him, with one exception. Thaddeus sat, distracted, drawing Molaivian symbols idly in the ground. Eventually, he glanced up at a silent moment, locking eyes with Drake. His eyes drifted to Marcus, then back to Drake, and he worked over a few false starts in conversation. It was very much unlike Thaddeus to be this...vague. Drake looked throughout the circle, eyes shifting from Marcus to Terra, and then finally to the Molavian. The Colonel kept his eyes on the man in silence, until he looks up at him and seems to be struggling with his words. Strange. Eventually, Thaddeus settled on a topic, though he was hesitant. "I think..." he said, his accent thick, then paused. He opened his mouth, let out a sound, then fell silent again. He frowned, as if he himself notices this oddity. The Colonel frowned slightly. "What is it, Thaddeus? You can speak freely, you know well enough I'll not hold anything you have to say against you." Thaddeus closed his hand into a fist, placing it slowly on the ground. Several scenarios ran through his mind, none of which seem good ones. Eventually, something seemed to shift, and he glanced up again. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead as he said, slowly, "I think I am wearing out my use here. You have many men. Many men. They will replac-.." His voice broke before the syllable could escape him. A hand slowly reached to the holster on his thigh, though the movement is subtle. Almost suspicious. Drake studied the Molavian in silence for a moment as he watched him. The movement was a Molaivian instinct - men who wore out their use tended to end up with the bullet in the back of their skull - but the Ceraislian Colonel found the movement simply strange. "Thaddeus," Drake said quietly, a brow raising, "Relax and speak freely." Thaddeus placed his palm on his thigh, realising his unconscious movement. He glanced up again after willing his hand into stillness. "I think I shall leave with Marcus in the morning. This wilderness is...too familiar. Too much like home." Thaddeus paused, collecting his thoughts. "My home was much like now. Not even I can save you when the attacks repeat. I couldn't save them." Drake nodded slowly, contemplating this new information. For a few moments, he was silent, and then he gave the man a friendly smile. "Very well, Thaddeus," he replies, "I will say this. Whether you consider yourself needed or not, I consider you a good friend and a valuable asset. You will be missed, but if you wish to leave, I will not stop you." With that, he looked at Marcus. "Of course, this is not only up to me. What say you, Marcus?" Marcus nodded in reply. "Anyone who wants can join the Legion, so long as they pull their weight," he said with a grin. "I doubt that will be a problem for you, Thaddeus." |
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| The Dragon Knight | Apr 8 2010, 07:51 PM Post #36 |
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As the song ended the assembled musicians and various listeners applauded, some of them asking for another song. Ivan simply shook his head and smiled, “No, not yet. Best to save some of my songs for later, to help ward off the chill of the night. For now, we eat, drink, and be as merry as we can be.” Setting an example through his actions, the doctor picked up a plate and ladled some of the stew onto it, handing it to an old, shriveled woman who sat bundled in an old blanket. She smiled up at him and thanked him with a toothless grin. It was rare for people of such an advanced age to survive in this world, and those who had were protected for their experience, wisdom and knowledge of the old world. It was important that they preserve all they could so that they could learn from the past. Accepting a plate of his own, Ivan chatted idly with his companions for a brief time as he ate. The stew was well spiced, to make up for the lack of much meat. Still, it was nourishing and would provide the nutrients his large frame required in order to stay alert and strong. Finished, he carefully set his plate aside. One of the men who was in charge of the communal meal that night would clear it away and clean it later. Ivan hauled himself from his place in the circle, wishing the occupants a good evening, and stretched his long limbs. The sinewy muscles and lanky bones cracked like old timber snapping as he worked the stiffness from them. He needed to be ready in case of an attack, and it wouldn't do to make a mistake during an operation because of a stiff back. Making his way casually between the groups, he paused as he neared the Colonel's circle, listening as Drake and the Caesar exchanged war stories. He smiled to himself, wondering if he would ever have any tale to tell of such battles. His own experience with fighting was limited to duels and small groups of bandits and pirates, most of them from before the Box was opened. Those that occurred afterward, he often found himself more behind the lines of battle helping to keep the survivors alive. He was about to continue on his way when the overheard conversation took on a more secretive tone. Not usually one to eavesdrop, he was nonetheless unable to pull himself away from the revelation that Caesar made to the Colonel. After the confession of the Legion's commander, Ivan digested the news without any outward change in expression. He understood the need for discretion and secrecy in this matter. It would be disastrous for the populace of Old Salty if they learned of Terra and Marcus' ability. They would likely be mobbed by desperate people, pleading for them to save them. However, they were only two people. There was no way they could hope to protect a settlement that large on their own. Ivan sighed softly and shook his head. It was a spark of hope, but one that could all too easily be extinguished if it was smothered. He sincerely wished that he was capable of defending these people alongside these two warriors. It had been frustrating for him to have to stand on the sidelines and piece together the people who had no chance of winning. He would prefer to be out there preventing the bloodshed, rather than stitching up those who survived it. Deciding to keep the fact that he had overheard the conversation to himself for the moment, the swordsman stepped up to the circle and coughed into his hand to attract their attention, his tall form casting an impossibly long shadow. “Ahem. Please pardon the interruption, everyone. Colonel Drake, but might I speak with you a moment? I just wanted to give you a requisition of various medical supplies that the good Caesar has available in his convoy.” He pulls a folded sheet of paper from a vest pocket and holds it out to the military man. “I've taken the liberty of listing the value of the items and a number of goods that the Caesar's doctor requested in exchange, and ask your permission to have them transferred from the town coffers.” As he waited for the Colonel to answer, Ivan took the time to examine the girl and Marcus in greater detail. The girl was disturbed by something, that much was clear to his practiced eye. As he looked her over, however, a sudden, instantaneous, flash of insight sent chills down his spine. He had, for the briefest of moments, caught a glimpse of the girl standing face to face with a demon the likes of which he had never seen before. However, like a flash of lightning it was gone almost as soon as it registered, leaving a mental after-image that slowly faded. He shook his head, trying to put it from his mind. It was a type of premonition, but one he had no clue about how to interpret. He would need to bide his time and see what the fates had in store. |
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| Squall250 | Dec 22 2010, 03:19 PM Post #37 |
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A silent figure worked through the rubble, casting aside chunks of brick and steel twice again its own size. Great wings battered aside the remains of walls, sleek hands with clawed fingers grasping at chunks of what once was a longstanding Haven in the midst of this desolate world. The black-scaled figure worked tirelessly, burrowing within the razed structure, as if searching for something. As he worked, the mountain of rubble began to shake, and he paused, standing straight and folding his wings close against his back. The head of a great serpent poked out through the rubble, flicking its tongue once, and the obsidian figure turned to face it. “Leviathan. Few would make such a mess as you. Is a human settlement truly so threatening to the Great Serpent that he must flatten it altogether?” “'Tis not the settlement, Lord, rather the occupants therein. A Descendant, and three carriers, when I toppled this ruin. What is it that you seek?” “I seek that very Descendant you fear. I feel a... familiarity with this place. Somebody I know was here, and I wish to find out who.” “And how many do you know from the old world, Lord? Surely there are few which could pique your interest such.” “Indeed. Yet my memory is incomplete. Pandora's power clouds my mind. If there are records in this place, I want them.” “In that case, I believe I have found something which may interest you, my Lord.” The snake vanished beneath the rubble, and moments later reemerged, dropping a box of discs from its mouth. “Human records. Perhaps you will find something in here that is of use to you.” “I require human technology to use these, Serpent.” “There is a human settlement to the northwest.” “Then it appears I shall have to make use of their equipment. Make it known, that settlement is not to be harmed until I give word otherwise. Understood?” “Yes, Lord.” “Very good.” Great black wings burst outwards, thin and membranous, tipped with razor sharp claws. “Until we meet again, Leviathan!” With a thrust of his wings, he lifted himself into the air, and took off for the northwest. “Indeed, my Lord. Until we meet again,” hissed the snake, quietly. His head twisted westward. The Descendant had gone west, towards the ocean. Perhaps she should be dealt with now, before she could become a problem. The sun had since fallen, and it would not be long before the human world went to sleep, save a few sentries. Now would be the perfect time to strike. “Brothers! Hear my call! We move this night for the shores to the west, there waits our great foe. Tonight, my brethren, we feast!” The Serpent dove, beneath the rubble, beneath the sands, and the ground shook as he began his trip. |
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| Squall250 | Jul 14 2011, 10:39 PM Post #38 |
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Dinner was completed, along with what business was brought to the table over the course of the meal. Ivan was granted his requisition, and groups stayed around the campfires for some time to talk, eat, and all around enjoy themselves. It was something Terra wasn't used to at this point, frankly. It had only been a year, but it felt like forever to her. Things had changed so much, and yet here, in this place... she felt as if the world was as it had been for most of her life, as it should be. This place was peaceful. This place deserved to stay as it was. True, there was fear, uncertainty, anxiety. But here, it seemed, there was hope. It might not have been much. But there was a sliver of hope, and that was enough to bring some of the same into Terra's heart. As is too often the case, however, the peace was not to last. Terra awoke to the sound of alarms, her eyes snapping open as she threw herself forward. The blankets pooled in her lap and she kicked them off, sliding off the bed and slipping her boots on. She'd never bothered to undress when she went to bed. Even in a place like this, she couldn't shirk preparation for comfort. At the moment, she was quite glad for that. She stood up, taking her belts and wrapping them around her hips, and climbed to the top of the rig. She was greeted by the sight of warning lights flashing. The klaxxons were loud out here, but she couldn't actually see the reason for the alarm yet. She assumed if there was something approaching, it was still a ways out. A low explosion outside the city dashed that hope. Something was coming, and it was already close. Her heart was pounding. These people didn't deserve this. This place deserved the peace she'd seen before, and she had every intention of making sure it remained. Before she knew it she was running for the gate. She burst in through the gatehouse door to find Drake and Marcus already there, along with the guard on duty, who was staring at a graph on a screen. “What's going on?” She asked quickly, desperately trying to hide the mixed fear and anger from her voice. She'd never felt this shaken facing the demons before. This was different. Even more than her own wish to protect these people, something was still bothering her from before. “Huge seismic activity approaching. They've set off a few of the mines already. A few turned around, might have scared off the smaller ones, but something huge is still coming. And it's got friends.” |
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| The Dragon Knight | Jan 24 2012, 10:14 PM Post #39 |
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The doctor's dreams were troubled. He mumbled in his sleep, tossing one way then another as he sensed a darkness rushing across the land. In his mind he saw a massive shadow creeping along the ground, faster than a man could run. He watched as the shadow rose up, hovering above the city like a giant wave, while from within its depths several sets of glowing red eyes appeared. The glared maliciously at him as he stood before the massive wall of shadow, his arms outstretched as if to shelter the people living in the city behind him. He could sense the immense power of evil before him, and knew that it would devour him. But then, he sense something different. Two figure approached from the direction of the town, one on either side of him. He was aware of their presence, but their features were blurry and indistinct. All he could tell was that they both possessed great power, although the smaller of the two dwarfed the other. The wall hissed, recoiling from the three of them as if stung, hesitating for a moment as it regarded these guardians. Then, a giant toothed maw split the shadow, and it crashed down upon them. Ivan woke with a jerk, a wordless cry leaping from his lips as he sat up and trembled. It took him a few moments to slow his breathing, looking around and finally registering that he was inside of his clinic. His chest rose and fell deeply as he struggled to calm himself. Sweat dripped from his chin and ran in small rivulets down his back and shoulders. He put a hand to his forehead and pulled it away, looking curiously at the sheen that covered his fingers. How curious. He had never woken in a cold sweat before. He swung his legs off of the bed, rising in one swift motion and walking to his medical bag. He extracted a thermometer from its protective case and promptly slipped it beneath his tongue, counting down the seconds in his head. Finally, he pulled the thermometer from his lips and gazed in silence at the numbers for a moment before shaking the tool and slipping it back into the case and bag. No fever, he thought. So why the sweating? He had never been so disturbed before that he had sweated as a result. In fact, except during the hottest of days when it was dangerous to even step outside, he rarely sweated at all. Rubbing the back of his neck, he gazed around the small operating room. His cot was wedged in a curtained off corner, hidden away behind one of the medical cabinets. His sword belt hung draped over the back of a chair, his clothing neatly folded and piled upon the seat. Not a speck of dust could be seen on any of the instruments or counters. Ivan was meticulous in his trade, and took great pride in giving the best care possible to his patients. This was reflected in the way every instruments, every pane of glass and every metal surface gleamed. Everything was neat and tidy, almost to a fault. Each piece of silk, every tongue depressor had its place. He sighed, glancing out the window and noticing that it was the deepest part of the night. For some reason he felt well rested, even though he had only been out for a few hours. Outside, the wind howled lightly as it blew past the window, the glass rattling slightly in its frame. Something felt wrong, he decided. The night seemed foul, for some reason. He quickly dressed, slipping his sword belt on and securing the scabbard to his hip, the basket hilt of the sword slung low. He reached underneath his pillow and pulled out the beautiful, silver bladed knife that he always kept there. He inspected the blade for a moment, ensuring that the edge was still keen (as if he ever allowed it to get dull), and slipped it into a sheath behind his back. Then, properly equipped, he picked up his medical bag and stepped out into the darkness. His feet carried him along without the need for him to direct their travel. He found that they were unerringly leading him towards the main gate. As he kept on, he noticed that the night was startlingly silent. Even in this apocalypse blasted world there was still noise. Insects crawling in the dirt, the slight scuffle of a rodent's passage as it burrowed beneath a building, the dry slithering of reptiles as they wound through the dust. However, since he had stepped out of the clinic, all of these sounds that signified that life was progressing as it should had vanished. Even the wind died down as he came within sight of the gate. He stopped before the barrier, his footfalls fading off into silence as he regarded the inky void before him. It was then that he realized that neither the moon nor the stars were in evidence tonight. The wasteland beyond was a black as the darkest pits of hell. As his eyes struggled to pierce the depths, he felt a cold stirring in his blood. Something was calling to him. "Something coming," he muttered to himself. The guard that stood beside the gate overheard, however, and opened his mouth to say something. However, the words never left his mouth. Suddenly, warning sirens began to wail, the old air raid siren winding up in its long, keening voice, letting the residents of Old Salty know that there was an eminent attack incoming. Off in the distance, the sound of explosions from the advance mines confirmed their worst fears. The guard cursed, rushing to the field telephone that hung in the small hut that he used for shelter while on watch. The half-Illarian paid the man no mind as he stood firm, watching the darkness for any sign of movement. The explosions were too far off to be seen from the gates, but that didn't mean that nothing had gotten past the mines. Residents poured out of the houses along the street, men and women shouting in fear and confusion while children screamed in terror at all the commotion. The women and elderly began shuffling towards the center of the town, towards the old fallout shelter that had been built in the old days, back when mass extinction seemed more likely to come at the hands of a neighbor than from a demon horde. The townsfolk knew that the shelter was more for peace of mind than an actual means of protection. Such structures had been destroyed by the demons before, and fairly easily, but it still gave the women and children a place to take shelter and keep them out of the way of the people who worked to fend off the demon menace. Ivan's attention was diverted by the screaming of a young boy, about a hundred yards back from the gate. Glancing behind, he saw that, in the confusion, the boy had apparently become separated from his mother. Fearful that the child would be trampled beneath the feet of panicking residents, Ivan trotted towards him. He was only a dozen steps away from the small boy when the first of the demons arrived. The ground rumbled beneath his feet, and suddenly exploded upward in a shower of dirt and hard packed earth. The surgeon spun around, his left arm up to shield his eyes from the avalanche of stone and sand that rained down upon him. As the dust settled, he gazed grimly at the mass of black, shiny armor that crawled out of the hole only ten feet away. Behind him, the boy screamed, his voice cracking from the sheer terror that froze him to that spot. Aware that to turn and try and run with the child would leave both of them open to attack, Ivan immediately took the initiative in the only way that would give them both a chance of survival. With a motion that was faster than the eye could follow, the sword flashed from its sheath at the same moment that the man leaped toward the demon. The creature was fifteen feet in length, its shape reminiscent of a massive scorpion. However, instead of a stinger on the end of its tail, there were several long, whip-like appendages, covered in barbs. Three sets of glowing red eyes glared hungrily at the medicine man as his leap proceeded to bring the two together. This sudden attack caught the monster off guard, and before it could bring its tail to bear or bring up a giant claw to block, Ivan's sword pierced the armor and sank deep into one of its shoulders. Surprise colored his face as he saw his weapon penetrate the thick hide. Never before had his blade so much as scratched the demons. The only way he had previously been able to drive them back was to aim for the eyes and attempt to blind them. However, before he could ponder his sudden good fortune, the scorpion slammed him in the chest with one of its claws. The impact knocked the wind out of the swordsman, sending him tumbling into the dirt. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, one arm wrapped tightly around his middle as he coughed. No blood appeared, thankfully, and nothing felt broken, but that also puzzled him. A blow like that would have crushed anyone else and left them broken and very much dead. How, then, had he survived with nothing more than a nasty bruise? He lifted his head as the creature hissed, its many legs scraping the ground as it scuttled toward him. Ignoring the boy completely, the demon instead pursued what it perceived to be a far more satisfying meal, eager to exact vengeance for the wound it had received. The child's instincts finally took over, and he ran off, sobbing, after the other fleeing citizens. Ivan was thankful that he had at least given the lad a small chance. Focusing his attention on the scion of death before him, his eyes fell upon the sword that still stuck out from its shoulder. He rose to his feet, jumping backwards to avoid the lash of one of the whips. He moved quickly, leaping to the side, ducking, weaving and side-stepping in an effort to avoid the numerous attacks the fiend made. As he did so, he analyzed its movements, picking up on how each limb behaved, and getting an idea of the level of intelligence of this particular beast. Most demons were beastial in nature, possessing little more than destructive instincts. These ones were normally accompanied by a handful of smaller, faster demons of varying types that possessed a slightly higher level of intelligence. The beast tended to follow the lead of these smarter variants. And yet, there were also rumors of demons that possessed a very human-like intelligence, being able to speak the language of men and being able to counter the most sophisticated of defenses. Thankfully, this one seemed to be of the lowest class, frequently making the same kind of attack and failing to learn from past mistakes. Side-stepping a claw thrust, Ivan surprised his attacker by producing and throwing a small knife directly into one of its eyes. The creature reared up onto its last three sets of legs, clawing at the air in its agony. As it crashed back down to the ground, the surgeon was already waiting deep inside its reach. He firmly gripped the hilt of his sword and drew it from the armor with a stiff jerk, then dove out of reach of the vicious onslaught of the barbed tails. Spinning back to face the creature, Ivan found himself possessed by a moment of pure inspiration unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Slipping the sword back into its scabbard, he fell into a stand that had him half crouched, leaning toward the beast while leading with his right foot. His hand lay upon the handle of his weapon, ready to draw it from its resting place. As the demon charged, Ivan cleared his mind of all thoughts and allowed the unusual instincts that had taken over control his movements. The blade flashed from its scabbard in a brilliant flash of silver, cleaving the air with an arc of moonlight that seemed to expand, passing through the space that the demon occupied. The creature continued toward him for a few steps before slowing, then stopping as if puzzled by something. It was still standing there when a crack appeared in the armor of its foremost left leg, spreading in an upward diagonal to the right. The crack quickly spread across the demon's entire body, bisecting it completely. Then, with a sickening slurping sound, the upper portion of the demon slid away, while the legs on the left hand side of the beast collapsed into bloody stumps. The arc of light had sliced cleanly through the entire demon with the ease and precision of a scalpel, cleaving the monster in half. Ivan stood there for a moment, his right arm still extended upward at the end of his swing. Then he lowered it, straightening as he observed the devastation his blade had wrought. The sound of the battle raging around him was dim in his ears as he realized that something had awoken within him. Elation filled him with renewed energy as he understood that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to save these people with more than just his skills as a doctor. |
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| tormenteddragon | Jan 26 2012, 07:23 PM Post #40 |
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This were bad. Old Salty had stood this long mostly because she’d never had to face anything more than the occasional raids by the smaller demons. Mines and heavy arms fire could send those ones packing, their bestial minds not realizing that there was no true threat in the attacks. But a big demon, an intelligent demon … that could rally the small ones, and punch through almost anything. And, of course, this one were a digger, too, which meant he wouldn’t be able to get a clean shot without some work at it. Fortunately, he was not unprepared for diggers. He nodded to Terra as she entered, slotting the final round into his bandolier. The full effect of his preparations was impressive – handguns on his belt, a shotgun secured at his back, and nearly an arsenal’s worth of ammunition on his vest and belt. At his feet lay his rifle, brought out at the first sign of trouble, and looking gloriously menacing. “You’ll want to watch for the vanguard, Colonel. There’s always a few that run ahead of the pack. Try and keep them distracted with small, mobile teams – keep them frustrated enough and they’ll eventually turn tail. I’ll see what I can do to hold off the main core,” he finished, picking up his rifle. “Terra,” he said, and saluted, “let’s us both see daybreak.” And with that, he was off, heading for the walls, where he could set up his vantage. It was hardly difficult, given that the wall wasn’t the rattling top of a modified bus moving at full speed – and soon enough, he had his rifle set and himself ready. “Alright, fellas. Give me a target.” He did not have long to wait. An explosion of earth signaled the triggering of a mine, and he swung his sights over, took a split-second to aim, and fired. The round struck, and there followed a signature “whump” as the specially crafted ammunition did its work. With a shriek, the demon that had triggered the mine burst out of the ground, tearing hell for leather over the terrain. He calmly flipped a switch on his rifle, took slightly more time to aim, and pulled the trigger again. In the distance, the demon twitched, reared, and fell over, its body pierced through. “Caesar, where are you?” He flipped the switch back on his rifle, then hit the button on his radio. “I’m up on the walls. Who am I speaking to? Over.” “Oh, sorry. Rick. You have orders, Caesar? Over.” Come on, come on. Another target. “We’re caught here, Rick. This is a stand, not a running fight. The Legion is to coordinate with Drake’s men. Any demons that get inside, engage them – guerilla tactics always.” Another spire of earth, and he fired again, another thumper round. “Two teams to a demon. Keep them busy and confused.” Another flip of the switch, and he sighted again. Another small one. “And if you find Terra, give her whatever backup she needs. Over.” He fired. The demon flipped backward, twitching. His secret would be out, now … but there was no choice. “Uh, who is Terra? Over.” D’oh. “The girl we picked up at Haven, Rick. Be advised, enemies are diggers. Over.” “Right. She like you, then? Over.” Spire. Thumper. “She is. Over.” “Roger. Orders received. Over and out.” And another one bit it. “I can do this all day, fellas,” he muttered, priming a thumper round. “So come on, big fella. Caesar wants to make you his bitch.” |
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| Squall250 | Mar 11 2012, 02:40 PM Post #41 |
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“Yeah,” Terra answered, looking over all the weaponry Caesar carried before he took off. The man may as well have been a walking army, and that he could injure the demons too... But there were so many people here, and only the two of them who could really do any damage. Was there really any hope? “We'll do our best to protect the civilians,” Drake said, placing one hand on her shoulder as if he could sense her rising despair, “you do your best to drive them off. Nobody can ask for more than that.” She nodded slowly, looking at the colonel, then at the screen again. “That big one... Something feels familiar. Be on your guard.” With that, she was out the door, making a quick check of her pistols to be sure they were loaded and ready to go as she drew each. Most of the demons were still outside the city, but she could feel some had breached the walls already. The vanguard Marcus had mentioned was already here, and these were the first that needed to be dealt with. Eyes darting left and right, she took off towards the center of the settlement, where the people would gather, and thus where the demons would aim to converge, and on her way she saw the impossible. Where a larger demon had certainly stood moments before, there were now two halves of a demon, and nearby an Illarian she was sure she'd seen before. No time for questions, though, as a pair of humanoids leaped from the ground, each three feet in height, reminiscent of imps from old legends. Fleshy tails lashed menacingly behind them, tipped with razor barbs, and Terra only just managed to backpedal clear of their clawed fingers as each sought to open one of her thighs to the bone. While their appearances were nearly human, their maddening cackles were anything but. Not that they lasted long. Before either demon could find the earth again, Terra's arms were outstretched, and each imp was staring down a separate barrel. A faint glow enveloped each hand, shifted to encompass the guns, and she pulled the trigger. Pulses of blue light coursed from the pistols and blew the imps' heads clean off, and Terra barely realized she'd reacted until the bodies fell in heaps. “I always forget how much I hate imps,” she stammered, shaking, and looked up at the Illarian, taking a slow breath to calm herself. “I've got questions but now's not really the time. There might be a few more in the city, and there's a really big one coming. Can you handle the vanguard and join up with us after to deal with the main horde?” |
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