by Max Barry

Latest Forum Topics

Advertisement

Search

Search

[+] Advanced...

Author:

Region:

Sort:

«12. . .327328329330331332333. . .345346»

Triporea wrote:Seeing the chaos the two rebel ships were in, the wounded Woodrow continued limping away. Seeming happy to just part ways for now. Steaming off into the deep ether, towards true Bezannian shores for repairs. But the crew of the Forthammer and Sheepskin had another problem, despite Woodrow having slipped away into the Ether, the crewless Dernby now a derelict ship hovering nearby, a bezannian naval squadron emerged from the wake of the Ethercurrent about two hours after the Woodrow’s magazine explosion. Having sailed fast and running their light, the squadron consisted of two modern frigates and one man-o-war. This Squadron moved in very close to the wrecks of the ships and began broadcasting orders to surrender.

Forthammer would be quickly abandoned the fire spreading throughout the decks with ease due to the cheap materials that we're used as well as the wide open spaces that allow the fire to grow further and further, small escape boats can be seen exiting the burning warship. The boats are too slow to escape the sudden magazine and fuel explosion, causing a chain reaction to occur with several of the boats colliding with the other boats causing the crew to suffocate from the ether as their glass panes and hulls break. Only one boat survives but its thrusters heavily damaged and inactive, slowly shambling into the depths of nothingness with only one crewman still somewhat alive due to being the only one to put on a breathing gear as everyone mustered in to the escape boats out of pure panic and fear.

With nothing to do but die, the lone crewman would decide to write a letter with a scrap of paper, its message may never be delivered.

Iammelon wrote:Fendi looked out over the horizon, in the same direction as Yosgel to see if he could get a glimpse of the city. He fidgeted a bit however at Yosgel's description, sighing, "It was once like that on my homeworld. In ancient days, Tombuiorn had very few settlements. The only place one could settle a permanent city was along the major rivers, leading to the planet's singular ocean. Any attempt at settling out in the great sands, even near the occasional oasis, was doomed to fail or be abandoned. Either destroyed by the elements, infighting, or the fury of the dead. But in time the settlements along the rivers grew and became mighty. We too once had a unique culture of nomadic Anubites. They... are no longer with us, in a great tragedy of our history. Their spirits still linger in the sands. The river settlements took hold of the world's destiny, and so was the way the Anubite Empire was born."

He watched the ship leave until it drifted entirely out of sight, listening to the song in the meanwhile, and then found it amusing that they had such a tribute to a destroyed city. Still, it was an interesting idea, and one he could appreciate, "A good way to remember the name. Even if it takes a new form, the name will live on, and perhaps through it the history. As for the overlay, hand your pad here. Let us see where it lines up." With that, Fendi took out a dataslate of his own, to line up the starmaps. With that, he would see where this Exelion was in a far larger galactic context.

Yosgel’s starmap would show the vicinity of Nesotia, being a giant red circle within 1,000 units from the center, beside Nesotia just edge of the starmap itself are neighboring polities, that they have contacted before but have not established any formal relations, this seems to be the Felines and the Nagas…? This information is still unsure and second contact may appear soon. The Exelion would be on the edge of frontier space, bordering an etherlane, in fact two of them, just a few units near the intersection of it. A flight path of the colonial ship can be also seen taking a quick detour to a local neutron star to have a gravitational slingshot to hasten the flight time. One of the stars on Lord Fendi’s dataslate would align with the arrival destination of Exelion. “I suppose there is an option to show the territory of the polities too?” he asks.

Rhian would be looking at the distance on one of the sides of the temple and sees something odd. Taking out her binoculars she would see several people exiting one of the antechambers, till then a massive explosion erupts, causing a section nearby the antechamber to collapse, a haze of yellow and orange taking Yosgel and Lord Fendi’s group would surprise, luckily they are nowhere near the blast site. “Darling.. you might wanna see this.” Yosgel’s ears would perk and would hurridly go to where Rhian is standing, leaving his dataslate behind with Lord Fendi. “What in Aetes’ name are they doing… Are they carrying a sarcophagus?” Upon closer inspection, it is a black sarcophagus with gold trimming, peculiarly it emanates a red glow alongside with red chains that seem to restrain it. The figures carrying them are wearing hoods. “Are you sure those aren’t the cultists in Kvottameir? Worriedly asked by her, ”They’re wearing hoods so I don’t know what markings they have on their face or skin, godammit why of all times we have to deal with something like this.

Tsk tsk, grave robbery is already a serious offense in Nesotia and now these idiots are robbing the grave of a thousand year old corpse too in a protected area.

House of vengeance

Iammelon wrote:Ilox simply shrugged to Tabbina, as it was simply unknown to her, "I haven't a clue really of his reasons. Very good at what he does, far more skilled. But from what I know, he's considered rather apathetic. Doubt it's trauma, he never struck me as the sort. Just a strange mystery, which maybe I'll know the answer to at some point. Cain isn't part of my fleet, he was stationed elsewhere. I have no idea what happened to him after the Civil War, but I wouldn't be surprised if he made it out. He ain't the type to die easy." She then nodded to Mithra, "The offer is there, since we seem to be preparing to work together. Smart I think to start on such things to encourage trust. As for the recruitment, they'll certainly go for those black sheep, as well as any gloryhounds. Apex has a rather particular recruitment base. Anyways, see you soon. I won't be bringing too many with me on the shuttle, so don't worry about that." With that, she closed the communication channel.

Turning to her bridge crew she spoke up, "Grab Maltoi and Sysglow. They'll be coming with me. Otherwise, just hold down the fort while I'm gone." With that, Ilox moved to get to her vessel's hanger. On the way there she met up with the two she had chosen to accompany her. Both were captains, though one was a Marine Captain and the other an Army Captain. Captain Maltoi was the Marine, and he was a Taurus. His own size was what made Ilox used to Tabbina, and it was also no wonder that he was quite good in close quarters combat. The bayonet on the end of his rather enlarged plasma rifle had been used plenty of times. But notably, he was also a capable pilot. Sysglow was not quite as intimidating, as she was just an Ialao. While she was part of the army and had the experience to match, Ilox kept her along primarily because she had technical knowledge, as well as some basic awareness for magic. These two were primarily coming as guards for Ilox, but they had their own skills they could use to help Ilox's case.

In due time, the shuttle launched with these three onboard, heading towards the coordinates given for Fraph's ship. It was interesting to note the large mining effort, but it did make sense. Nomads still needed resources after all, and asteroids had plenty if you were willing to dig.

Tabbina, now knowing that this strange man wasn't part of her fleet, started to wonder if the man was still alive. If he was he may have already died, or taken up the role of a real leader... Or perhaps captured. Too many variables to really say, even then it was a big galaxy. Maybe he's stranded on some world either waiting for death or hitting it off with whatever local life is there. Thinking on what Ilox and Mithra were discussing about black sheeps and glory hounds, she already had someone in mind who might be vulnerable to such tricks... Her younger brother would be one such idiot.

The shuttle was met halfway by fighter craft, it seems that these were made by the Eliksni since they all had a similar design that was very much not of this galaxy, that started to guide the shuttle towards a hangerbay on Fraph's ship There were signs of modification to the crafts that allowed them to sail through the ether with ease, such things would be commonplace for larger civilisations but for newcomers to the galaxy it was quite a sight.

The hanger bay they were guided to was large, with lots of the same fighters suspended from the ceiling of the hanger and dropships like the ones they saw before with Mithra's ship low to the ground. There was a small runway in the centre of the hanger that had been cleared for them to land, a small procession of troops. around 50 troops in columns of 25 to the right and left of two figures. One was undoubtedly Baron Mithra, and the other was a much larger Female like Tabbina. Though more notably, Fraph was at least 2 feet taller than Tabbina, 12 ft tall! Just what the hell do they eat to get this large?? The uniform these troops were wearing was far different to the soldiers and scavenger crews they saw before. These were large 6ft tall soldiers in a gunmetal grey set of armour.

https://imgur.com/UVswjXb

Triporea wrote:The woman shook her head no, seeming to understand Filia’s distaste for the situation. She sighed and looked around, “If your friend passed out I can try and help him as best I can... I’m a doctor, and this is a medical lab.” She searched around and grabbed a small vial of liquid in that strange planetary language, plus a needle. “I’ll help your friend as long as you’ll take me to him.”

-

Lilime smiled, “exceptional work! Yes, the Creach are a business like people. Very industrious and avaricious, these women. Warriors to their core, not to be mistaken, surely. However, ore and mining is so ingrained in their society, they used to worship it. Many of these people believe the mountain we’re standing under was the goddess of mining herself, and she died to give birth to the Creach people. And that her blood hardened in the stones here and became precious metals.” Liline chuckled, “funny, innit? How these folk worship something as laborious as bloody mining. And yet they’re so fiercely proud of it. But you are correct, I suspect. It is their business skills and money-loving attitude that allowed them to survive the eckers. When Sephus spoke again Liline perked up a bit, “hobby stuff? Like what? I’m sure we can find most things here, since this is a big city. I’m just not sure what you you’d want? I’m not sure even I could get us in for a round of Lowland Splash, if I’m honest.”

Filia raised an eyebrow to this. If this woman was a doctor, how come she was sealed up in this lab hooked up to that machine? There was still so much they didn't know about this situation. Seeing her pick up that strange liquid too certainly didn't put her at ease... But she understood that this lady was at least trying to help. "... I will but first tell me what that stuff is. And I don't think I asked your name yet..." She sats turning around and motioning to walk with her as she started to walk back out into the hall and back towards that command room Jazmin and Harlock were in.

-----

Hearing about the Creach belief that their Goddess died to give birth to them under this mountain, it was certainly a strange tale. Then again the tale of his races beginnings were just as strange... To every tale there is at least some truth, so perhaps the Creach were once a blessed people born of sacrifice. He certainly wasn't going to question it. "I don't know, I think it's an interesting story, if true. It may not have happened just like that. But if you think of it, a dragon brought my entire people into existence to serve as guardians of hope. Just as outlandish wouldn't you say?" He says smirking down to Liline as they walked.

As they started to talk about hobby stuff, he wasn't quite sure what he would want. Though he had to give her an inquisitive look when she mentioned this 'lowland splash'. "What's that then? Lowland Splash?"

Iammelon wrote:Tamour went quiet for a moment, his eyes looked upwards towards the ceiling as he thought over the question. He was considering his answer carefully, as he was indeed not a blind optimist. In time, he looked back down to Sieg and spoke, "To answer that question, I'll give you a brief summary of Iammelonian history. In times past, we were invaded by a species called the Eskavari. They were humanoid aliens, but their appearance is unimportant. What matters is that they ravaged Iammelon, as they were a cruel, slaver Empire that enslaved every species they came across. Their goal was blood, turning any species with compatible blood into cattle, and those without compatible blood would be worked to death. They were quite unconcerned with the idea of making a species extinct, so long as they served their purpose. Quite cruel, and evil monsters who had destroyed plenty of civilizations and killed many people, including many Iammelonians in their invasion. But as we defeated them, Iammelon felt... remorse." He paused for a moment, and then continued, "For with this defeat, the majority of their species died. We learned their reason for why they sought blood, their species was afflicted with a great genetic illness that caused them to fail to produce enough blood for their own bodies. Without other blood, they would suffocate in their own bodies. Unable to cure it, they had turned to fanaticism, treating their illness as a gift and a mission, making them into the evil Iammelon had defeated. With the utter irony being... That Iammelon had the capacity to save them. The medical technology existed to stabilize their condition, and with some additional blood donations, over time a permanent, complete solution certainly could've been developed. But that never came, for thanks to the ferocity with which Iammelon defeated the soldiers and warriors of the Eskavari, their civilians had fled in terror, and succumbed to their condition. The Eskavari died. Some may say they deserved it, thanks to their extreme evil. Tainted monsters and war criminals, most could agree."

After a pause, he then shook his head, "For my part, I disagree. I consider it a tragedy that they died, unable to be saved when the chance was there after their defeat. If they had been saved, it is quite likely you would have seen Eskavari soldiers on Duxton. One might have been your handler! For my part, I am sad that this could not come to be. If I could go back and alter the course of history, I would change this great tragedy. For it would be good for all. Iammelon would gain new people, further proving its ideals of caring for values above species, and the Eskavari would have a new life, free of their former curse. Their legacy of evil would be overturned in time by the good they could achieve. But perhaps that is just conjecture... Where do you stand, Sieg?"

Sieg, Mely and Yajana listened to the tale that Tamour had to tell in response to Sieg's question. Hearing about how the people of Iammelon wiped out the Eskavari when they had a chance to save them, he did truly seem remorseful for the genocide that both species took part in. Sieg could draw the parallels and could easily see why he wanted to give the Zerg a chance. Though she could see that the grief of exterminating an entire species has clouded his mind with hypotheticals. Even if Iammelon did help the Eskavari cure their disease they may have only tried harder to enslave them, a people who could cure them would mean that they could just as easily poison them down the line, the Eskavari may have just enslaved them once they have secured a cure... If they had the ability to. But she didn't dislike the sentiment he was trying to get across... Now for her to speak up about where she stands. "... What is better, to be born good or to overcome your evil nature... I heard that from someone once. It will be difficult for us to settle in to this image you have for us. But I suppose anything worth doing is difficult... I am willing to give this a chance. Let us see if the Zerg can become something that can overturn their dark past."

Iammelon wrote:"An escapee failure, huh? Well if they live as long as you do, quite possible they got away. Might be roaming around the galaxy, or settled down with another society. Based on what I've seen of you Athailian folks, it wouldn't be too hard for you to join up with any civilization that's willing to take in other species, or really could just fake being entirely human and join a human nation. After all, prospects are looking good for Athailians who want to fully join Iammelon, and even those who don't fully join get along just fine. I bet the failed Pride subject lady could do it too, perhaps even more easily if she fakes being a human refugee or whatnot. Be it for Iammelon or plenty of other societies" As he spoke, Rovin kept up the massage on the waist. He was tempted to do something bold, but he decided the tone of the talk wasn't quite right yet. So instead he started to go down to massage the back of her legs.

What she was saying certainly made sense to him based on the person she had described, that was very much a Scarletneck. Simple, charming bunch, good people overall from those Rovin knew. It was a shame that he would clearly never get the chance to meet the man, as he could also guess what sort of thing he did that got himself killed. Rovin gave an understanding nod, "Sounds like somebody I would've liked. A good person. It is a shame I won't get the chance to meet him, makes me understand why you aren't such a big fan of the Anubites. But, if I might say... I bet he's quite happy with what you got going on now, wherever his soul ended up. Using your own skills to help out all those kids, and continuing to live your life to the best you can. Plus, you clearly got some things from him, as you're also a bit of a show off. Making good use of his legacy, and I bet a gearhead like him is happy you're building on his foundations."

Piper nodded along to his musing of the escapee failure, truthfully it was something she did consider checking up on a long time ago. Going out to see if she could find some escapee's and reforming a small society of Athailian's out somewhere far away. But that seemed pretty boring compared to what she was doing at the time. Still she had heard along the family grapevine that Emperor Badrick was giving some thought into joining the Iammelon union, she wasn't surprised given their weakened state. "Wherever she ended up, I just hope she had a decent life. Hell, even a boring one would be best for what she would have went through on the front lines."

As he massaged away, telling her about how proud her old flame would have loved what she was doing now, a soft smile covered her face as she kept her eyes closed. "Heh... I think he would have loved the part where I had a tussle with Apex pirates and corporate stooges... I can't say I didn't pick up my flashy nature from him. I was alot colder before I met him... I'm just sad that Thatch will never really get to meet him. The both of them love their technobabble." She says before she looks back up towards Rovin over her shoulder. "Listen to me venting away... Probably should move on to a lighter topic. Otherwise I'll just keep my head in the past."

Iammelon wrote:Azultiri smiled proudly at Zether utilizing his new tailguard, even in such a minor fashion, and happily waved back with a paw, before reaching out for some purple dye in her storage area, as of course she had noted the favorite color. The proud smith was not the sort to waste such knowledge, not when it would greatly improve the product of her labors.

As Zether emerged back out into the hallways to look for Uzulmira, it would take a bit to find her. However one of the Dragon guards would direct Zether towards the primary living quarters, as it was revealed that his sister had returned to her personal abode. When he arrived there, another guard was outside the door. Upon seeing Zether coming up, he made a few knocks on the door to inform Uzulmira of the oncoming visitor. After a moment of silence, her voice ringed out from within, "Let him in!" The Guard then quickly unlocked the door, and allowed Zether to go in.

The Draconic Lady's personal quarters were not as luxurious as one might have expected from somebody in her position, reflecting her more serious nature. There was a large bed, even by Dragon standards, a large desk filled with papers and a computer, a massive bookshelf, and off to the side an armor rack. On that rack was a full set of Heord Gold Armor, personally built for Uzulmira's frame. Notably, he could also see Azultiri's special made gauntlet here as well, and it stood out from the rest of the armor due to it being gem-encrusted, with red marks on the gauntlet's crushing claws. The rest of the armor was not as flashy, or at least as unflashy as it could be while being a suit of shining gold. Zether would see his sister was laying across the bed, her eyes on a book. She looked up at Zether and moved to get off the bed, stretching her wings before speaking, "Hello again, Zether. I hope my daughter did not give you too much trouble, but I appreciate you going down to humor her. I was just catching up on some reading while I had the free time."

Once entering his sisters quarters, after being let in by the guards stationed outside, Zether smiled over to his sister as he looked around the rather lavish living he was actually rather accustomed to. Though he was used to smaller accommodations by now, being in hat hybrid and human forms back when. As his sister spoke up to ask if Azultiri gave him too much trouble he simply shook his head as he showed off the new tailguard she made for him. "Oh perish the thought, Azultiri was a delight to see working. Very proud of her craft and has every right to be so, her work is rather wonderful. Though I am not just saying that because she has given me a rather wonderful present. I've even promised her that I would pass on my knowledge of Anti-magic to her once I'm all settled in. I wonder what marvels she'll make with it."

To hear that she was just reading in her spare time he wondered if he had interrupted that. "Ah, I hope I wasn't intruding on any interesting developments to your story." He says smiling before he looked back to the gauntlet that Azultiri had made for her mother. "Azultiri suggested I come see you about how I should go about my little family storytime."

House of vengeance wrote:Tabbina, now knowing that this strange man wasn't part of her fleet, started to wonder if the man was still alive. If he was he may have already died, or taken up the role of a real leader... Or perhaps captured. Too many variables to really say, even then it was a big galaxy. Maybe he's stranded on some world either waiting for death or hitting it off with whatever local life is there. Thinking on what Ilox and Mithra were discussing about black sheeps and glory hounds, she already had someone in mind who might be vulnerable to such tricks... Her younger brother would be one such idiot.

The shuttle was met halfway by fighter craft, it seems that these were made by the Eliksni since they all had a similar design that was very much not of this galaxy, that started to guide the shuttle towards a hangerbay on Fraph's ship There were signs of modification to the crafts that allowed them to sail through the ether with ease, such things would be commonplace for larger civilisations but for newcomers to the galaxy it was quite a sight.

The hanger bay they were guided to was large, with lots of the same fighters suspended from the ceiling of the hanger and dropships like the ones they saw before with Mithra's ship low to the ground. There was a small runway in the centre of the hanger that had been cleared for them to land, a small procession of troops. around 50 troops in columns of 25 to the right and left of two figures. One was undoubtedly Baron Mithra, and the other was a much larger Female like Tabbina. Though more notably, Fraph was at least 2 feet taller than Tabbina, 12 ft tall! Just what the hell do they eat to get this large?? The uniform these troops were wearing was far different to the soldiers and scavenger crews they saw before. These were large 6ft tall soldiers in a gunmetal grey set of armour.

https://imgur.com/UVswjXb

Ilox noted the rather quick adaptation to the Ether that the Eilksni had done, in comparison to other extragalactic civilizations at least. Iammelon had plenty of experience in dealing with those not of this galaxy, usually not in a pleasant fashion, and so it knew well that adapting to Hoshizora was something most newcomers had some difficulty in dealing with. Iammelon's more turbulent conditions in particular had always been an advantage when dealing with invaders, as Iammelonians utilized their superior knowledge of navigation to strike down normally superior foes. Seeing that the Eliksni had adapted quickly was certainly impressive, and spoke to their adaptability in Ilox's eyes. It also made it so that they were more likely to be a useful ally, or a deadly foe. She hoped for the former, as she really was not in the position to handle another extragalactic foe.

The shuttle followed along with the fighter escort towards the hangerbay, soon enough landing within at the cleared area. Emerging from her shuttle, the Human took another look around. She noted the difference in armor, and she surmised it was likely down to a difference in house from Mithra. This House of Vengeance was after all apparently a combination of multiple smaller houses, so it was reasonable that those of different houses would wear different equipment in order to identify themselves, or it was simply a holdover from their time as separate groups. In any case, she quickly noted Fraph, that tactician of the House of Broken Dreams as Mithra had said. She was apparently in charge, and her escalation of size was certainly notable. Ilox quietly thought to herself, "First a Taurus sized one, now a proper giant. Maybe if we keep going we'll eventually find a Dragon-sized one?"

Regardless of her internal musing on size, Ilox and her two companions stepped forward towards the procession. It was quite a few soldiers, but the Omnipo Commander kept herself calm. She looked to Fraph and gave a nod, "You must be Baroness Fraph then. I am Commander Ilox, leader of the formerly OMNI Battle Fleet Hokaris, the fleet that encountered Baron Mithra over there at the Duxton system. Nice to make your acquaintance." She kept herself back enough so she didn't have to careen her head up too much in order to look at Fraph's face, given the notable size difference. The only one of the Omnipo group who sized up was Captain Maltoi, although while he was Tabbina's size he was still shorter than Fraph, something that amused the Marine Captain as it was not very common that he was outdone.

Honour guard and House of vengeance

Honour guard wrote:Sieg, Mely and Yajana listened to the tale that Tamour had to tell in response to Sieg's question. Hearing about how the people of Iammelon wiped out the Eskavari when they had a chance to save them, he did truly seem remorseful for the genocide that both species took part in. Sieg could draw the parallels and could easily see why he wanted to give the Zerg a chance. Though she could see that the grief of exterminating an entire species has clouded his mind with hypotheticals. Even if Iammelon did help the Eskavari cure their disease they may have only tried harder to enslave them, a people who could cure them would mean that they could just as easily poison them down the line, the Eskavari may have just enslaved them once they have secured a cure... If they had the ability to. But she didn't dislike the sentiment he was trying to get across... Now for her to speak up about where she stands. "... What is better, to be born good or to overcome your evil nature... I heard that from someone once. It will be difficult for us to settle in to this image you have for us. But I suppose anything worth doing is difficult... I am willing to give this a chance. Let us see if the Zerg can become something that can overturn their dark past."

Tamour gave a nod in affirmation to that, as of course it was not a truly solid explanation but it was good he got the sentiment across at least. He smiled at her response however, as that was what he wanted to hear, "Well said, Sieg. If you are willing to take on the challenge, then I am quite hopeful for a good future for you and the rest of the Zerg. It will be a difficult transformation, but I and many others will be here to help you along that path. Some of you I believe already have the assistance you'll need." He looked to Yajana as he said that, with Mierl standing beside her. The Watrike looked around a bit before realizing that was referring to himself, and then he gave a nod.

At about that time, the elevator reached its destination and Tamour spoke his last words on the subject, "I hope you will find people to help you overcome, Sieg. I am here if you need me. Now, finally back to my ship! I have been on the ground too long." With that, the Dragon moved forward towards a busy area. It had multiple shuttle landing zones, with cargo and transport shuttles coming in and out, transferring people and material between the surface of Heord and the fleet up in orbit. Tamour in particular was heading towards a larger shuttle, one that was sized for Dragons. He looked about, and spoke back, "Some places are never quiet. Landing zones like these are one of them. I am curious however, for you three. Do you prefer the feel of being on a ship to being on the ground?"

As they got their chance to enter he got into the shuttle, which had room for all of them. It was not a particularly special vessel, as Tamour would simply sit himself down in the back. There were seats for the smaller passengers, and so Aloni and Mierl both took their own seats. This was when Aloni spoke to Sieg again with a small grin on her face, "Giving the big Dragon a chance, hm?" She wouldn't say anything further, but the smug energy from her told quite enough of what she meant with that.

Honour guard wrote:Piper nodded along to his musing of the escapee failure, truthfully it was something she did consider checking up on a long time ago. Going out to see if she could find some escapee's and reforming a small society of Athailian's out somewhere far away. But that seemed pretty boring compared to what she was doing at the time. Still she had heard along the family grapevine that Emperor Badrick was giving some thought into joining the Iammelon union, she wasn't surprised given their weakened state. "Wherever she ended up, I just hope she had a decent life. Hell, even a boring one would be best for what she would have went through on the front lines."

As he massaged away, telling her about how proud her old flame would have loved what she was doing now, a soft smile covered her face as she kept her eyes closed. "Heh... I think he would have loved the part where I had a tussle with Apex pirates and corporate stooges... I can't say I didn't pick up my flashy nature from him. I was alot colder before I met him... I'm just sad that Thatch will never really get to meet him. The both of them love their technobabble." She says before she looks back up towards Rovin over her shoulder. "Listen to me venting away... Probably should move on to a lighter topic. Otherwise I'll just keep my head in the past."

Rovin chuckled there, giving a nod in agreement, "A decent and boring life really is best, I'd say. An interesting life is not always a good life. I mean just take a look at both of us, I'd say we both live some very interesting lives. And they're interesting because we're being constantly hunted, shot at, and in general have at least one person trying to kill us at any given time. And that might be with a gun or murderous puns. Not at all boring, but certainly not the sorta life that any reasonable person would consider a healthy way to wind down after a traumatic war! So I'll give my hope to her just living on a nice farm someplace. Farms are pretty decent and boring, right? Never actually been on one myself so I am sorta just assuming."

Rovin smiled as she looked back towards him, "Hey, that's the point of a thing like this! Getting all the stresses out, so a bit of venting is alright. But sure, let's move beyond the past. Now let's see if I can help there..." He continued his massage, and went up from the legs towards the back again. Though when he got back up he decided to get experimental and see if Piper would find if his hands went further around towards the front of her chest. He decided to continue speak as well, "On that, I do gotta ask. How many kids did you end up adopting? And when did you start doing that?"

Honour guard wrote:Once entering his sisters quarters, after being let in by the guards stationed outside, Zether smiled over to his sister as he looked around the rather lavish living he was actually rather accustomed to. Though he was used to smaller accommodations by now, being in hat hybrid and human forms back when. As his sister spoke up to ask if Azultiri gave him too much trouble he simply shook his head as he showed off the new tailguard she made for him. "Oh perish the thought, Azultiri was a delight to see working. Very proud of her craft and has every right to be so, her work is rather wonderful. Though I am not just saying that because she has given me a rather wonderful present. I've even promised her that I would pass on my knowledge of Anti-magic to her once I'm all settled in. I wonder what marvels she'll make with it."

To hear that she was just reading in her spare time he wondered if he had interrupted that. "Ah, I hope I wasn't intruding on any interesting developments to your story." He says smiling before he looked back to the gauntlet that Azultiri had made for her mother. "Azultiri suggested I come see you about how I should go about my little family storytime."

Uzulmira noticed the tailguard as Zether showed it off, and she quickly recognized it as Azultiri's handiwork, thanks to her rather distinct style. That and she was a proud mother overall, so she gave Zether a smile, "Ah, I see she gave you a demonstration of her abilities then. I'm certain those gems have a few powers built into them as well. Good that she was able to show off without causing any irritation to you. She can be a bit of a handful at times, but she is quite good at what she does. That's why I let her set up that forge within the castle. Far better than the makeshift workshop she had before. And Anti-Magic, hm? I can certainly see my daughter making good use of that. You will certainly never hear the end of it yourself if you do teach her, that I can assure you. I taught her how to enchant Flameburst Gems and weave them into her work, and now she always makes sure to show me any of her products that include that particular gem. She's a very proud girl, but I can never say she isn't grateful."

She stretched her wings a bit more before shaking her head again, "Oh, not at all. It was a dreadfully boring text. But I needed to get up to date with some of the softskin laws and traditions, in preparation for some trips off-world. A little vacation off Heord is warranted I think." She noticed Zehter looking to the gauntlet, and she moved over towards it while continuing to speak, "Ah, yes. I was thinking of just using the large living room in the castle, it has a lovely fireplace and plenty of seating. I would like to do that soon, so I recalled my son to come back as soon as he can. He has to drop off his own little hatchling with his mate first, but then he will arrive so we can all get up to date with you. The main reason I wanted to speak with you a bit ahead of time is because I want to know if there is anything you should tell me, but aren't quite willing to tell the younger members of the family."

With this, she paused in front of the waiting armor. She lifted the gauntlet off of the armor rack, and it slotted perfectly onto her front-right claw, showing that the custom built frame was very much built for her in particular. As she balled the claw into a sort of fist, the gems on the gauntlet glowed and emitted a small pulse of magical power. However, she didn't go the full way with it, unballing the fist and then simply holding up the gauntlet so Zether could get a good look at it, speaking with a more somber tone now, "Azultiri made this for me a number of years back, I am sure she mentioned it. She is quite proud of it. I am as well, although for me it is not just merely because of the craftsmanship. Do not mistake me, this gauntlet is very much capable of whatever boasting she made of it. But to me it matters most because of something it represents. It is a symbol of the family's power to fight and defend ourselves. Something I find ever more relevant in the face of loss. First it was my husband in conflict with other Dragons, and then my first son, Eskgargos. The time between their deaths is long, but the sting of both remain just as strong. So you will have to forgive me if I remain apprehensive to the concept of the family growing. I really don't want the family to go through the sense of loss again, so I need to ask ahead of time, Zether. Are you being genuine? Can Azultiri really have you to show off her creations to? Can Malgkirgor actually look up to you for support as he raises his own child?"

Honour guard

Necunda wrote:Yosgel’s starmap would show the vicinity of Nesotia, being a giant red circle within 1,000 units from the center, beside Nesotia just edge of the starmap itself are neighboring polities, that they have contacted before but have not established any formal relations, this seems to be the Felines and the Nagas…? This information is still unsure and second contact may appear soon. The Exelion would be on the edge of frontier space, bordering an etherlane, in fact two of them, just a few units near the intersection of it. A flight path of the colonial ship can be also seen taking a quick detour to a local neutron star to have a gravitational slingshot to hasten the flight time. One of the stars on Lord Fendi’s dataslate would align with the arrival destination of Exelion. “I suppose there is an option to show the territory of the polities too?” he asks.

Rhian would be looking at the distance on one of the sides of the temple and sees something odd. Taking out her binoculars she would see several people exiting one of the antechambers, till then a massive explosion erupts, causing a section nearby the antechamber to collapse, a haze of yellow and orange taking Yosgel and Lord Fendi’s group would surprise, luckily they are nowhere near the blast site. “Darling.. you might wanna see this.” Yosgel’s ears would perk and would hurridly go to where Rhian is standing, leaving his dataslate behind with Lord Fendi. “What in Aetes’ name are they doing… Are they carrying a sarcophagus?” Upon closer inspection, it is a black sarcophagus with gold trimming, peculiarly it emanates a red glow alongside with red chains that seem to restrain it. The figures carrying them are wearing hoods. “Are you sure those aren’t the cultists in Kvottameir? Worriedly asked by her, ”They’re wearing hoods so I don’t know what markings they have on their face or skin, godammit why of all times we have to deal with something like this.

Tsk tsk, grave robbery is already a serious offense in Nesotia and now these idiots are robbing the grave of a thousand year old corpse too in a protected area.

Fendi looked it over and gave a small nod at the option, transferring over the information of other territories that Iammelon had come into contact with. This made the feline M'hassari Territories more clear, but the Naga territory was quite vague. This was because the Naga did not really run an organized territory, but rather simply took up certain areas of space as their personal hunting grounds for their family or clan. So the data from Fendi's tablet simply marked out generally known areas in which Naga operated rather than distinct borders. Though of course it also added other areas, such as Iammelon itself, a rather large expanse. That was when Fendi noticed that Exeilon was rather close to Iammelon, which got him to narrow his eyes and grunt.

However before he could air his concerns, that was when the explosion went off. He quickly turned in the direction of the sound, taking his own binoculars to look into the distance. He snarled at the sight, and handed off both dataslates to one of his assistants. With clear anger in his voice, Fendi spoke up, "Unacceptable, disgraceful! Desecration of the dead! Absolutely disgusting. I may be overstepping my bounds here, but I cannot abide that. Grave robbery is a grave sin indeed by Anubite standards, and I can tell there is something wrong with what they are carrying. Clearly we have some spiritual containment work to do here. Aslin, prepare yourself and the guards." Fendi picked up his own staff, the jewls on which began to glow. He looked over to Yosgel, "You don't get the choice of whether or not we involve ourselves. This is a duty of Anubites. However, this is your world, so I will do things your way. How do you normally handle situations such as this?"

Necunda wrote:Forthammer would be quickly abandoned the fire spreading throughout the decks with ease due to the cheap materials that we're used as well as the wide open spaces that allow the fire to grow further and further, small escape boats can be seen exiting the burning warship. The boats are too slow to escape the sudden magazine and fuel explosion, causing a chain reaction to occur with several of the boats colliding with the other boats causing the crew to suffocate from the ether as their glass panes and hulls break. Only one boat survives but its thrusters heavily damaged and inactive, slowly shambling into the depths of nothingness with only one crewman still somewhat alive due to being the only one to put on a breathing gear as everyone mustered in to the escape boats out of pure panic and fear.

With nothing to do but die, the lone crewman would decide to write a letter with a scrap of paper, its message may never be delivered.

The Bezannian ships shields protected their ships from any explosions or shrapnel from said explosion. Whoever was in charge of this naval squadron was more competent then the last commander. This new commander engaged his squadron in a thorough and dedicated sweep of the area for survivors. When the lone escape craft was found, a Bezannia ship pulled in and moored the escape craft. Bringing it to the deck, the lone flagbearer was greeted by seven marines and five able seamen. Rifles drawn, ether masks equipped, and ready for action. Upon seeing the lone survivor still aboard, a marine shouted, "Hands up!" If the man put up no resistance, he would be searched by pat down. Once removed of personal items and weapons, he was placed in a pair of tight fitting shackles. Escorted off the deck of the Bezannian ship, and to the interior he was taken down long cramped hallways. A seaman opened a bulkhead and two marines followed the man into a small room. It was windowless, featureless, except for a small table across from a cell. They opened the cell and pushed him in, closing and locking the iron door behind him. Around half an hour later, the bulkhead to the room opened and three men entered the room. A fatimazda wearing a navy frock coat with a tie and navy trousers. He was in an undress uniform, as were the two individuals behind him. Another fatimazda wearing in undress and a human in undress. The main Fatimazda seemed to be a flag officer, of some kind. The second one a captain, and the human a lieutenant.
"If you want to stay on my ship you'll tell me who sent you to attack our convoy. Play games or refuse to answer my question and I will personally throw you into the Ether. Are we clear?"

Honour guard wrote:Filia raised an eyebrow to this. If this woman was a doctor, how come she was sealed up in this lab hooked up to that machine? There was still so much they didn't know about this situation. Seeing her pick up that strange liquid too certainly didn't put her at ease... But she understood that this lady was at least trying to help. "... I will but first tell me what that stuff is. And I don't think I asked your name yet..." She sats turning around and motioning to walk with her as she started to walk back out into the hall and back towards that command room Jazmin and Harlock were in.

-----

Hearing about the Creach belief that their Goddess died to give birth to them under this mountain, it was certainly a strange tale. Then again the tale of his races beginnings were just as strange... To every tale there is at least some truth, so perhaps the Creach were once a blessed people born of sacrifice. He certainly wasn't going to question it. "I don't know, I think it's an interesting story, if true. It may not have happened just like that. But if you think of it, a dragon brought my entire people into existence to serve as guardians of hope. Just as outlandish wouldn't you say?" He says smirking down to Liline as they walked.

As they started to talk about hobby stuff, he wasn't quite sure what he would want. Though he had to give her an inquisitive look when she mentioned this 'lowland splash'. "What's that then? Lowland Splash?"

"My name is Doctor Elise Stanislavovna. This is penicillin, antibiotic. If your friend is injured I can try and treat any wounds he has with this and some stitches." Elise followed Filia, "and thank you for saving me. I know it must have taken a split second decision, but I do appreciate your saving me." As Filia and Elise reached the command room with Harlock and Jazmin, the latter jumped up and raised her hands. But realising that it was Filia Jazmin lowered her hands.
"Oh, welcome back. Who's this lady?"

-

"Yea, but I don't buy into much religious stuff. Especially not star dragons turning into mountains and blood seeping down and making sentients. Sounds like a tall tale to make one feel better about their standing in the universe. Preposterous, if you ask me." She chuckled, "aah, I forget that you weren't raised here sometimes. Splash is hunting game for sport. Shooting duck, geese, fowls. The splash part refers to this sport originating on Bezembay in the part known as 'The Splash.' You either sit on a boat or trek through the mud depending on your party. It's quite a large group that goes too. Servants to load the guns, dogs to fetch the shot game, friends to accompany you through the shoot. It's a noble's game. I know the Creach do a lot of Splash in the lowlands, Fatimazda just go to Dernby or Bezembay. At one time I believe I could have joined a game of Splash but now I doubt I could. I am curious as to what exactly you had in mind for a hobby. I know you hold interest in weapons, perhaps we could find a gunsmith? Or perhaps you'd rather gamble. If you're feeling artistic, why not go to a cafe? In any case, I will need you to narrow down what you mean by 'hobby." Liline spoke in a relaxed tone as she walked down the boulevard.

Honour guard

A man walked along an old dirt path, he was herding a small flock of Mainbuwicks. Behind him were several other Ikhanda men. They wore cloaks and beaded headbands, but no shoes. Each were carrying large packs. Nearby, on a motorcycle, was a Bezannian man. His skin was tan, but he wore a grey linen jacket, cream trousers, black riding boots, and a wide straw hat. The Bezannian man had a rifle tucked into the saddle of his motorized vehicle. He rode alongside the Ikhanda men, wiping the sweat from his face with a rag. Lifting up a canteen he sipped it and placed it back on his belt. An equiaux ran alongside the bike, hopping with a bit of a gait. "How far to New Herneshire?"
"Ninety or a hundred more kilometers? Over this mountain."
"And are we selling the land too?"
"Course not, I intend on returning to the ranch after the valley calms down."
"And why couldn't we just buy a house on Arlington like mother suggested?"
"Because your mother is an aristocratic mare who already despises me for the inability to produce her grandchildren."
"I have told you that she does not hate you in the way you constantly describe."
"Oh does she not? Moon forgive me, she must hate my guts in some other way."
"Just be glad that you got along with father, otherwise we wouldn't be married." The human man grumbled and the equiaux continued walking with the motorcycle. But the whole pack of humans and equiaux stopped as over the mountains lumbered three massive ships. They rolled and parted clouds with ease, delicately sailing down the skyways. Battleships gleaming in the sunlight, guns pointed forward. The two Bezannians watching in awe as the large battleships sailed down the skyways, towards Ukukhazi and Inkambu.

Inside the metal beast of the skies stood a man dressed in purple uniform. He carried a small wooden stick and was flanked by four others in similar uniforms. In front of him were forty five humanoids in red uniforms. Sitting or standing, they all were occupying the center of a large vehicle depot.
"Knights of the Empire, you know your objectives and targets! Nine Squads, lead by Sirs Westley, Lake, Cunningham, Moss, Lawson, Hunt, Bradley, and Dames Robertson and Webb. Westley Squad takes point on Ukukhazi. Cunningham and Webb squads will take the east and west approaches to Inkambu. But I will lead the charge up the wash and reserve the right to strike at the city first." The man standing in the center drew his sword and held it in the air, "Moon Bless Bezannia! Moon Save the Empress!" The other knights in the room drew their swords and repeated the cry.
Across the same hanger bay two riflemen were sitting against a set of crates, a measctha eating an apple and a Fatimazda sat with his arms crossed. "What a load of pompous blokes." The Fatimazda scoffed as he watched the group of knights sheath their swords and move to the Rutherfords.
"You're just jealous a bunch of humans, knife-ears, and badgers get to wear fancy uniforms and make you bow to them."
"That is not what I'm on about!"
"Oh yes it is, you eckers are all the same. Wanting to be the biggest and fanciest of the lot." The measctha took a bite of his apple and stood up, "Now come on, we have to muster to action stations, edjit." The Fatimazda raised his lip to growl but just glared at the Measctha next to him. The two walking off and away from their resting spot.

As Sir Edward Keats placed his boot into the stirrup and wrapped his arm around the cable he suddenly shot into the air. The cable raising him up from the ground to the cockpit. He stepped off the stirrup and took a seat, pulling a lever on the chair. The whole section sliding forward and the back lifting up to seal and pressurize itself. The chair clicked into place and Keats placed his thumb firmly onto an ornate contraption. Lifting his thumb, there was a soft hum that started to grow into a mighty howl. A screen flickered to life, the silvery-blue colour distortion coming through and making an audible click. There was a pause, but the screen played a small jingle consisting of the first few notes of the national anthem and the words "Long Live the Empress" showed on the screen before the optics systems booted up. Keats used both feet to push pedals and the howling whine erupted into the mighty roar of combustions. Black puffs of smoke erupting from the ribs of the machine before armour plates shifted and blocked the exhaust vents. He pushed a few keys on the console and large charging cables connected to the chest shot away and were subsequently retracted to the ceiling of the loading bay. Taking hold of a handles, he slid one forward. The armour responded by outstretching its arm and grabbing hold of a spear. Then shifting the other handle the other arm grabbed a small submachine gun and holstered it on the backside of the mech, under its cape. The mech then dropped its two skates and started moving forward. Turning to face the main ramp of the ship, this caped mech was soon followed by others. Forming squads, the armours gathered.

From the mountain peak the human and equiaux watched as a sea of purple spill from the gaping maw of the lading ship. Followed by a great cloud of dust, then tanks, and finally trucks. The great sea of movement and dust shooting off in multiple directions. But after a few minutes, all the excitement had gone. The ship was lazily drifting back towards the sky, the last of the trucks making their way over the horizons. Towards Inkambu and Ukukhazi.

Iammelon wrote:Fendi looked it over and gave a small nod at the option, transferring over the information of other territories that Iammelon had come into contact with. This made the feline M'hassari Territories more clear, but the Naga territory was quite vague. This was because the Naga did not really run an organized territory, but rather simply took up certain areas of space as their personal hunting grounds for their family or clan. So the data from Fendi's tablet simply marked out generally known areas in which Naga operated rather than distinct borders. Though of course it also added other areas, such as Iammelon itself, a rather large expanse. That was when Fendi noticed that Exelion was rather close to Iammelon, which got him to narrow his eyes and grunt.

However before he could air his concerns, that was when the explosion went off. He quickly turned in the direction of the sound, taking his own binoculars to look into the distance. He snarled at the sight, and handed off both dataslates to one of his assistants. With clear anger in his voice, Fendi spoke up, "Unacceptable, disgraceful! Desecration of the dead! Absolutely disgusting. I may be overstepping my bounds here, but I cannot abide that. Grave robbery is a grave sin indeed by Anubite standards, and I can tell there is something wrong with what they are carrying. Clearly we have some spiritual containment work to do here. Aslin, prepare yourself and the guards." Fendi picked up his own staff, the jewels on which began to glow. He looked over to Yosgel, "You don't get the choice of whether or not we involve ourselves. This is a duty of Anubites. However, this is your world, so I will do things your way. How do you normally handle situations such as this?"

Yosgel would walk back toward Lord Fendi’s side while still keeping gaze on those men who stole a sarcophagus. “We ask questions, wrong answer we maul them.” He would view them again on the binoculars and it seems they are walking slowly, perhaps the sarcophagus is that heavy or they are being careful with it. “Ill go in first, they’re cultists, they’re wielding Seithr that should not be possible to be casted outside of the world they originated from.”He would jump out of the balcony and slide downwards toward the general direction of the cultists approaching them slowly, his cape and clothe flowing within the scorching desert sun, the threat of death approaches him as a cold embrace from the back yet he accepts this as a fact that he is approaching dangerous people. The cultists would stop at their track as the leader in front, donned with a black-red cape halts and looks at Yosgel. “Hold it! What the hell are you cultists doing with that sarcophagus? Do you realize-” Upon the distance Yosgel would be soon arguing with the head cultist while the others are in a wedge formation.

A sudden blast of light and then another one, the blast sweeps the sands around them as Yosgel is hit at point blank. He feels his soul escape momentarily before gaining consciousness again. His defense is his willpower no wonder he survived that attack. A glint in the distance, a fountain of red, then a head lands on the foot of Rhaian. She crouches and inspects the head without regard of what just happened. “Oh my, these people are a threat, they have the marks of… Oooh.. They call themselves the Hammer of Me’i. They really wanna blow up a lot of things, the Yllsaggaerl, the Parliament, or what not. They’re enigmatic, we don’t even know where they came from, all we know they started appearing out of nowhere. And they keep talking about a prophecy of the Last Sorceress returning to bring upon the “Golden Age” which sounds a lot of blongus to me.

The remaining cultists would form a shield around the sarcophagus, their combined shields would stack on one another making a multiformed one, glowing in the same reddish glow as the one on the sarcophagus. Yosgel would stagger and would fall backwards, falling onto the flowing sand. “Oh.. I think that killed me…” A hole on the left side of Yosgel’s stomach, yet this did not even worry him as he stands up again, shivering from the immense pain.

Triporea wrote:The Bezannian ships shields protected their ships from any explosions or shrapnel from said explosion. Whoever was in charge of this naval squadron was more competent then the last commander. This new commander engaged his squadron in a thorough and dedicated sweep of the area for survivors. When the lone escape craft was found, a Bezannia ship pulled in and moored the escape craft. Bringing it to the deck, the lone flagbearer was greeted by seven marines and five able seamen. Rifles drawn, ether masks equipped, and ready for action. Upon seeing the lone survivor still aboard, a marine shouted, "Hands up!" If the man put up no resistance, he would be searched by pat down. Once removed of personal items and weapons, he was placed in a pair of tight fitting shackles. Escorted off the deck of the Bezannian ship, and to the interior he was taken down long cramped hallways. A seaman opened a bulkhead and two marines followed the man into a small room. It was windowless, featureless, except for a small table across from a cell. They opened the cell and pushed him in, closing and locking the iron door behind him. Around half an hour later, the bulkhead to the room opened and three men entered the room. A fatimazda wearing a navy frock coat with a tie and navy trousers. He was in an undress uniform, as were the two individuals behind him. Another fatimazda wearing in undress and a human in undress. The main Fatimazda seemed to be a flag officer, of some kind. The second one a captain, and the human a lieutenant.
"If you want to stay on my ship you'll tell me who sent you to attack our convoy. Play games or refuse to answer my question and I will personally throw you into the Ether. Are we clear?"

The single lone survivor, unable to move due to how injured he is, already having a blown off leg and a broken arm. He only raises one hand, the sound of heavy breathing due to its cracked helmet can be heard. His personal items include a rosary-like necklace but instead of a cross it would be a hammer, a picture of him and what appears to be his daughter. A single revolver and several rounds on his back pocket. He is too weak to whimper or scream in pain despite being shackled and dragged across the floor even with one of his legs blown off. He does not know whats going on but its best if he just went with the flow to ensure his survival. During the time inside the cell, he leans upon the wall trying to regain composure and strength of whats to come, seething in pain of his broken arm and missing leg, perhaps he should have not accepted this offer if it would mean his life would come to this.

The visitors would suddenly come, he did not expect this but he tries to prepare himself by giving a stoic composture. He looks upon the people that come to them, seems to be a Derigazi or a human in basic aswell as species he hasn’t seen before, reptilian in appearance and has horns like his. Aren’t these the Derisoma that the Jarl talked about during one of those meetings? One of the great fiends? Oh well, no time to regret actions and might as well face the present. He attempts to lean against the wall to stand up staggering a bit. Im already half-dead and you decided to keep me alive, says a lot about you Derisomas and your Derigazi lackies. he breaths deep for a while before staring into the eyes of the Derisoma. “Im only a senior mechanic so I don’t know much the details about this.” He coughs up a bit of blood and feels a sharp pain on the side of his stomach, probably some shrapnel but he tries to not mind it. ”Some weird group approached the Jarl and tried to help us attain our goals by helping them in exchange, this help is probably the attack here. I don’t know what they tried to achieve here but all I know we we’re called upon this mission.”

Necunda wrote:The single lone survivor, unable to move due to how injured he is, already having a blown off leg and a broken arm. He only raises one hand, the sound of heavy breathing due to its cracked helmet can be heard. His personal items include a rosary-like necklace but instead of a cross it would be a hammer, a picture of him and what appears to be his daughter. A single revolver and several rounds on his back pocket. He is too weak to whimper or scream in pain despite being shackled and dragged across the floor even with one of his legs blown off. He does not know whats going on but its best if he just went with the flow to ensure his survival. During the time inside the cell, he leans upon the wall trying to regain composure and strength of whats to come, seething in pain of his broken arm and missing leg, perhaps he should have not accepted this offer if it would mean his life would come to this.

The visitors would suddenly come, he did not expect this but he tries to prepare himself by giving a stoic composture. He looks upon the people that come to them, seems to be a Derigazi or a human in basic aswell as species he hasn’t seen before, reptilian in appearance and has horns like his. Aren’t these the Derisoma that the Jarl talked about during one of those meetings? One of the great fiends? Oh well, no time to regret actions and might as well face the present. He attempts to lean against the wall to stand up staggering a bit. Im already half-dead and you decided to keep me alive, says a lot about you Derisomas and your Derigazi lackies. he breaths deep for a while before staring into the eyes of the Derisoma. “Im only a senior mechanic so I don’t know much the details about this.” He coughs up a bit of blood and feels a sharp pain on the side of his stomach, probably some shrapnel but he tries to not mind it. ”Some weird group approached the Jarl and tried to help us attain our goals by helping them in exchange, this help is probably the attack here. I don’t know what they tried to achieve here but all I know we we’re called upon this mission.”

The admiral maintained a stern face, “fetch the surgeon.” A nearby officer ran out, “By your dress I shall assume that what you say is true for now. I wont interrogate you here. But I will not let you go. Your wounds will be treated and your health restored, after such time has passed I can no longer guarantee such cordiality. The trip to Bezembay is eighteen days without ethersails. The surgeon will treat to you in that time. And we’ll remove those bindings. Don’t mistake my pleasantries for hospitality. I’m a naval man and I have no time to waste on prisoners of war. But I’m not a barbarian. Your needs will be met. Two meals a day, water, and medical treatment.” The admiral then turned and headed for the door. “Disturb the order of my ship and I’ll personally remove the head from your shoulders.” The man and his group left the cell room. Shortly after a female measctha in an officer’s uniform entered. She carried a small leather bag and placed it beside her. Marines opened the cell door to the captive’s cell and removed his bindings, letting the doctor in after. The woman coming close to him and first wetting a rag with sterilising agent, she tended to the missing leg. Wrapping the wound and dressing them with damp rags. The stinging was intense, but after she started prepping a syringe.
“This is a pain killer. Don’t worry about this. I need you to relax and let me put this into your arm.”

Post self-deleted by Triporea.

Triporea wrote:"My name is Doctor Elise Stanislavovna. This is penicillin, antibiotic. If your friend is injured I can try and treat any wounds he has with this and some stitches." Elise followed Filia, "and thank you for saving me. I know it must have taken a split second decision, but I do appreciate your saving me." As Filia and Elise reached the command room with Harlock and Jazmin, the latter jumped up and raised her hands. But realising that it was Filia Jazmin lowered her hands.
"Oh, welcome back. Who's this lady?"

-

"Yea, but I don't buy into much religious stuff. Especially not star dragons turning into mountains and blood seeping down and making sentients. Sounds like a tall tale to make one feel better about their standing in the universe. Preposterous, if you ask me." She chuckled, "aah, I forget that you weren't raised here sometimes. Splash is hunting game for sport. Shooting duck, geese, fowls. The splash part refers to this sport originating on Bezembay in the part known as 'The Splash.' You either sit on a boat or trek through the mud depending on your party. It's quite a large group that goes too. Servants to load the guns, dogs to fetch the shot game, friends to accompany you through the shoot. It's a noble's game. I know the Creach do a lot of Splash in the lowlands, Fatimazda just go to Dernby or Bezembay. At one time I believe I could have joined a game of Splash but now I doubt I could. I am curious as to what exactly you had in mind for a hobby. I know you hold interest in weapons, perhaps we could find a gunsmith? Or perhaps you'd rather gamble. If you're feeling artistic, why not go to a cafe? In any case, I will need you to narrow down what you mean by 'hobby." Liline spoke in a relaxed tone as she walked down the boulevard.

Filia lowers her suspicion of her alittle at the mention of Penicillin. She didn't know if that was going to work on Harlock, seeing as he only took on a human appearance thanks to his changeling heritage. His alien biology may not agree with whatever the medical standard was around here. "I'll have to tell you now, my friends may appear human but they aren't like you or me. I don't know how that stuff will effect him. But given his condition we'll just have to take the gamble... And don't mention it. I'd want someone to do the same for me in that situation."

Once they had gotten back, it would appear that Harlock's exhaustion had caught up with him. His human visage was very much gone as he looked like his changeling self again. Filia looked to Jazmin as she smiled over "This is Elise, a doctor that got locked in here before this place got cut off from the surface. Meaning she can at least be trusted. I only just met her but seeing as she was a medical lab locked in some sort of tube, I'd say we can at least trust she's not with the AI on the surface. How have things been here?"

-----

He certainly couldn't fault her view on the Creach's creation myths, it did sound overly grandiose but he wasn't going to risk saying it aloud. But if people take comfort in it then let them, hell of alot better than considering yourself wormfood once you've lived out your usefulness in a unflinching cosmos.

He was tickled that she forgot that he wasn't born around here. To that end he brought his long and wiry tail, something that he normally doesn't include with his human form seeing as most people don't like to look at the Firstborn Reaver's true form, and lightly bring it out through the sleeve of his jacket to waggle it at her. "Whatever gave that away~?" The tail quickly disappeared after that, no need to attract too much attention. He was very good with his tail, with it being very dexterous and thick as a hose pipe he could proficient use it for a number of things. Something she would be more than aware of after last night of course.

Still, enough about his dexterous tail and its many... Functions. He listened to what this 'Splash' game was. And from what he was told, it was a hunting game. Rather interesting, it certainly appealed to the more primal part of him. Though from the sounds of it, it was a nobles game. And he doubted he could use his status as Lord commander to get a way in, not without some Fattie having him as a way to get a backdoor into Firstborn politics and such. "I'd rather not gamble, never really thought of myself as a man of chance... Gunsmith does sound good though. Though I don't know if one would be willing to let me do some tinkering if we're only going to be here for a short while... I'd narrow it down more if I could, the only issue is that much like you my work was my life."

House of vengeance

Iammelon wrote:Ilox noted the rather quick adaptation to the Ether that the Eilksni had done, in comparison to other extragalactic civilizations at least. Iammelon had plenty of experience in dealing with those not of this galaxy, usually not in a pleasant fashion, and so it knew well that adapting to Hoshizora was something most newcomers had some difficulty in dealing with. Iammelon's more turbulent conditions in particular had always been an advantage when dealing with invaders, as Iammelonians utilized their superior knowledge of navigation to strike down normally superior foes. Seeing that the Eliksni had adapted quickly was certainly impressive, and spoke to their adaptability in Ilox's eyes. It also made it so that they were more likely to be a useful ally, or a deadly foe. She hoped for the former, as she really was not in the position to handle another extragalactic foe.

The shuttle followed along with the fighter escort towards the hangerbay, soon enough landing within at the cleared area. Emerging from her shuttle, the Human took another look around. She noted the difference in armor, and she surmised it was likely down to a difference in house from Mithra. This House of Vengeance was after all apparently a combination of multiple smaller houses, so it was reasonable that those of different houses would wear different equipment in order to identify themselves, or it was simply a holdover from their time as separate groups. In any case, she quickly noted Fraph, that tactician of the House of Broken Dreams as Mithra had said. She was apparently in charge, and her escalation of size was certainly notable. Ilox quietly thought to herself, "First a Taurus sized one, now a proper giant. Maybe if we keep going we'll eventually find a Dragon-sized one?"

Regardless of her internal musing on size, Ilox and her two companions stepped forward towards the procession. It was quite a few soldiers, but the Omnipo Commander kept herself calm. She looked to Fraph and gave a nod, "You must be Baroness Fraph then. I am Commander Ilox, leader of the formerly OMNI Battle Fleet Hokaris, the fleet that encountered Baron Mithra over there at the Duxton system. Nice to make your acquaintance." She kept herself back enough so she didn't have to careen her head up too much in order to look at Fraph's face, given the notable size difference. The only one of the Omnipo group who sized up was Captain Maltoi, although while he was Tabbina's size he was still shorter than Fraph, something that amused the Marine Captain as it was not very common that he was outdone.

As Ilox and her two companions approach, it was noticeable to see that it was a first time for alot of the guards present to see a Taurus like the good Captain standing beside the human, and even more were including both the Baron and the Baroness had never seen a Ialao before. Seeing as their more gentle nature would not bring them amongst Apex's numbers naturally. Still, all behaved themselves as Ilox and her Captains approached.

As Ilox addresses Fraph directly, the Baroness stared down at her for a moment seemingly staring through her as a dull expression. Was she disinterested in meeting with them? Was she- W-Wait her eyes seemed to refocus on the small human before her and started to look... Incredibly lost. Mithra did mention that Fraph was something of an introvert. She probably isn't very good at dealing with new people like thi- And she's offering her hand, oh her hand could easily grab hold of Ilox's head it's a big hand. A genius tactician, very bad with dealing with people... The Poor giant woman is way out of her element. A rather interesting lack of confidence for someone her size.

Despite this lack of presence she seemed to have, the troops didn't seem all that deterred by this. Still perfectly stood tall as they all waited for their Baroness to find her footing.

Mithra just pats one of the lower arms of Fraph, slightly making her jump as she looks down at the Baron beside her. Mithra speaks to her with a familiarity that seems to ease her rigid awkwardness. The two of them must be pretty familiar for her to ease up. "Come now, use your words. I can vouch that they are good people." Fraph eyes move from him to look around unsure for a moment but she seems to resolve her own fright and what was no doubt a stressful feeling in her chest that would have had her leaving. She looks back to Ilox with surety as she speaks up. Despite her size her voice was not booming like Tabbina's was. It was soft, not because it was high. Her voice was deep but like silk on the ears. Unintentionally sultry, almost confident in her manner of speaking. "The feeling is mutual Commander Ilox, welcome to our little corner of the space. Mithra told me about his encounter with you briefly before your arrival. It would seem we are in the same boat."

Necunda wrote:Yosgel would walk back toward Lord Fendi’s side while still keeping gaze on those men who stole a sarcophagus. “We ask questions, wrong answer we maul them.” He would view them again on the binoculars and it seems they are walking slowly, perhaps the sarcophagus is that heavy or they are being careful with it. “Ill go in first, they’re cultists, they’re wielding Seithr that should not be possible to be casted outside of the world they originated from.”He would jump out of the balcony and slide downwards toward the general direction of the cultists approaching them slowly, his cape and clothe flowing within the scorching desert sun, the threat of death approaches him as a cold embrace from the back yet he accepts this as a fact that he is approaching dangerous people. The cultists would stop at their track as the leader in front, donned with a black-red cape halts and looks at Yosgel. “Hold it! What the hell are you cultists doing with that sarcophagus? Do you realize-” Upon the distance Yosgel would be soon arguing with the head cultist while the others are in a wedge formation.

A sudden blast of light and then another one, the blast sweeps the sands around them as Yosgel is hit at point blank. He feels his soul escape momentarily before gaining consciousness again. His defense is his willpower no wonder he survived that attack. A glint in the distance, a fountain of red, then a head lands on the foot of Rhaian. She crouches and inspects the head without regard of what just happened. “Oh my, these people are a threat, they have the marks of… Oooh.. They call themselves the Hammer of Me’i. They really wanna blow up a lot of things, the Yllsaggaerl, the Parliament, or what not. They’re enigmatic, we don’t even know where they came from, all we know they started appearing out of nowhere. And they keep talking about a prophecy of the Last Sorceress returning to bring upon the “Golden Age” which sounds a lot of blongus to me.

The remaining cultists would form a shield around the sarcophagus, their combined shields would stack on one another making a multiformed one, glowing in the same reddish glow as the one on the sarcophagus. Yosgel would stagger and would fall backwards, falling onto the flowing sand. “Oh.. I think that killed me…” A hole on the left side of Yosgel’s stomach, yet this did not even worry him as he stands up again, shivering from the immense pain.

Lord Fendi did not seem to like how this was going, "I believe I will be joining him up close. Not my style to stay behind. Besides, this seems like the sort of thing I am bound to interfere with, I am not a fan of destructive cults. Come along if you like. Guards, with me!" He gestured for his guards to join him as he also leaped over the balcony to slide down. They followed behind him soon after, their weapons drawn as they went down. The Anubite Lord and his guards moved forward to support Yosgel, one guard moving to check on him due to his rather notable wound, there to offer support. Lord Fendi meanwhile threw up a shield in front of Yosgel, his energy being a distinctive blue.

He grunted and spoke out, "Time to surrender or fall, defilers. Time to see just much you truly understand about the dead. Come warriors, you are needed yet again." As he kept up his own shield, two gems on his channeling staff began to glow. From each of them emerged a phantasmal, blue mist, moving to either side of Fendi. They began to take shape, forming into blue, transparent images of Anubite Guardians. They were even holding ghostly versions of the rifles they normally held, although when they fired upon the cultists, they fired blasts of spiritual energy, trying to strike directly at the souls of their targets. In the meanwhile, Aslin as a living guardian raised her own rifle to fire. As it was a real one, it instead fired blasts of heated plasma, a more direct means of attempting to put down the cultists.

All the while, Fendi kept his shield up and spoke back Yosgel, "If you are on the verge of death, there is little shame in falling back if you must. You don't appear to be quite dead yet, and wasting your life would be foolish. But if you can fight, and are willing to, you are more informed on these foes than I. I just hope for my shield to hold."

Iammelon wrote:Tamour gave a nod in affirmation to that, as of course it was not a truly solid explanation but it was good he got the sentiment across at least. He smiled at her response however, as that was what he wanted to hear, "Well said, Sieg. If you are willing to take on the challenge, then I am quite hopeful for a good future for you and the rest of the Zerg. It will be a difficult transformation, but I and many others will be here to help you along that path. Some of you I believe already have the assistance you'll need." He looked to Yajana as he said that, with Mierl standing beside her. The Watrike looked around a bit before realizing that he was referring to himself, and then he gave a nod.

At about that time, the elevator reached its destination and Tamour spoke his last words on the subject, "I hope you will find people to help you overcome, Sieg. I am here if you need me. Now, finally back to my ship! I have been on the ground too long." With that, the Dragon moved forward towards a busy area. It had multiple shuttle landing zones, with cargo and transport shuttles coming in and out, transferring people and material between the surface of Heord and the fleet up in orbit. Tamour in particular was heading towards a larger shuttle, one that was sized for Dragons. He looked about, and spoke back, "Some places are never quiet. Landing zones like these are one of them. I am curious however, for you three. Do you prefer the feel of being on a ship to being on the ground?"

As they got their chance to enter he got into the shuttle, which had room for all of them. It was not a particularly special vessel, as Tamour would simply sit himself down in the back. There were seats for the smaller passengers, and so Aloni and Mierl both took their own seats. This was when Aloni spoke to Sieg again with a small grin on her face, "Giving the big Dragon a chance, hm?" She wouldn't say anything further, but the smug energy from her told quite enough of what she meant with that.

Sieg just stays with her back straight as she sees that her answer satisfies Tamour, it would seem they have arrived at their stop as well. She didn't know if this will be an easy period to live through... But easy wasn't what she wanted. It would be an insult to everything she lived through to get to this point. Still, the Dragon's words humbled her. "Thank you sir. I am sure the rest of us are looking forward to making that future come to pass."As Tamour spoke to Yajana and Mierl she eagerly nodded to the Dragon's words. She was quite happy with the way her life had gone thus far. As she was sure the same could be said of her sisters with Sieg being a more cautious addition to that truth.

As the Dragon posed the question to the three of them. Sieg, unsurprisingly, answered first without a shred of hesitation. "I much prefer having actual ground beneath my feet sir, there is less chance of the ground giving way to certain doom then a bulkhead will. But I will go where I am needed."

Melyphus, who had spent the last few weeks on the ship with Tamour doing her research and work, was actually rather accustomed to ship life already. "While that worry is something of a statistical abnormality, I do understand it dear sister. But I have to say I am rather happy being on a ship, being able to see the majesty of the cosmos untainted by the light pollution of smells of the populated worlds is always wonderful."

Yajana, more of a country bumpkin compared to the other two lastly more experienced and weathered broodmothers in their company, just put her finger to her lips as she thought about it. "I can't really say I care much for either as long as I have people I care for by my side. Sure the view is nice but that can be said of literally anywhere in the galaxy."

After that they all moved onto the shuttle, Melyphus staying close to Tamour since she was his personal Aide. Yajana stayed close to Mierl and Sieg close to Aloni for no other reason other than she didn't have any choice not to. Sieg looked to Aloni as she spoke up to her, the smug energy radiating off of her was something that made her softly scowl but the look on her face was not a no. She looked away as she got out an answer over the slowly creeping redness forming on her face. "W-Well of course I am. He's my superior officer after all. I can't doom my entire race after he gave an answer like that."

Iammelon wrote:Rovin chuckled there, giving a nod in agreement, "A decent and boring life really is best, I'd say. An interesting life is not always a good life. I mean just take a look at both of us, I'd say we both live some very interesting lives. And they're interesting because we're being constantly hunted, shot at, and in general have at least one person trying to kill us at any given time. And that might be with a gun or murderous puns. Not at all boring, but certainly not the sorta life that any reasonable person would consider a healthy way to wind down after a traumatic war! So I'll give my hope to her just living on a nice farm someplace. Farms are pretty decent and boring, right? Never actually been on one myself so I am sorta just assuming."

Rovin smiled as she looked back towards him, "Hey, that's the point of a thing like this! Getting all the stresses out, so a bit of venting is alright. But sure, let's move beyond the past. Now let's see if I can help there..." He continued his massage, and went up from the legs towards the back again. Though when he got back up he decided to get experimental and see if Piper would find if his hands went further around towards the front of her chest. He decided to continue speaking as well, "On that, I do gotta ask. How many kids did you end up adopting? And when did you start doing that?"

Piper shivered at the mention of puns, that wound will likely never heal. But for the most part what Rovin was saying was the absolute truth, she hoped that the little lady was living some kind of worthwhile life that doesn't involve anything too crazy... But somehow she knew that it may not be the case. "Usually they are nice and boring yeah, but there is always the worry about monsters or bandits, or priveteers... Or Apex. Still, if she's a sin of pride failure she should be able to make stuff from raw materials with her power. So she'll have plenty to defend herself with if she gets in trouble."

As their conversation did drift from the past, Piper was more than happy to melt into the bed under his skillful hands, venting was nice and all but a lady must keep some sense of mystery about her. Though such thoughts of mystery were suddenly dashed as a small shiver and a low murmur filled her throat as she peer back over her shoulder to her rather brave helper as she could feel his hands nestled between her soft bosom and the quilted sheets under her. He even had the audacity to bring up her kinds as he did so, such a cheeky denizen of the Nebula. Though if she didn't enjoy the attention he would know it already as she just smirked over her shoulder and decided to challenge the merc as she rolled over onto her back, a coy look in her eyes that wondered if he keep up his composure. "All together or just currently? Because if we're talking over my time in Iammelon even before Thatch's father I did have afew I would take under my wing to train if one or two caught my eye... That number is likely around 50. But to have as kids and nothing more, to love and bring up... I have 15 kids, including Thatch."

Iammelon wrote:Uzulmira noticed the tailguard as Zether showed it off, and she quickly recognized it as Azultiri's handiwork, thanks to her rather distinct style. That and she was a proud mother overall, so she gave Zether a smile, "Ah, I see she gave you a demonstration of her abilities then. I'm certain those gems have a few powers built into them as well. Good that she was able to show off without causing any irritation to you. She can be a bit of a handful at times, but she is quite good at what she does. That's why I let her set up that forge within the castle. Far better than the makeshift workshop she had before. And Anti-Magic, hm? I can certainly see my daughter making good use of that. You will certainly never hear the end of it yourself if you do teach her, that I can assure you. I taught her how to enchant Flameburst Gems and weave them into her work, and now she always makes sure to show me any of her products that include that particular gem. She's a very proud girl, but I can never say she isn't grateful."

She stretched her wings a bit more before shaking her head again, "Oh, not at all. It was a dreadfully boring text. But I needed to get up to date with some of the softskin laws and traditions, in preparation for some trips off-world. A little vacation off Heord is warranted I think." She noticed Zehter looking to the gauntlet, and she moved over towards it while continuing to speak, "Ah, yes. I was thinking of just using the large living room in the castle, it has a lovely fireplace and plenty of seating. I would like to do that soon, so I recalled my son to come back as soon as he can. He has to drop off his own little hatchling with his mate first, but then he will arrive so we can all get up to date with you. The main reason I wanted to speak with you a bit ahead of time is because I want to know if there is anything you should tell me, but aren't quite willing to tell the younger members of the family."

With this, she paused in front of the waiting armor. She lifted the gauntlet off of the armor rack, and it slotted perfectly onto her front-right claw, showing that the custom built frame was very much built for her in particular. As she balled the claw into a sort of fist, the gems on the gauntlet glowed and emitted a small pulse of magical power. However, she didn't go the full way with it, unballing the fist and then simply holding up the gauntlet so Zether could get a good look at it, speaking with a more somber tone now, "Azultiri made this for me a number of years back, I am sure she mentioned it. She is quite proud of it. I am as well, although for me it is not just merely because of the craftsmanship. Do not mistake me, this gauntlet is very much capable of whatever boasting she made of it. But to me it matters most because of something it represents. It is a symbol of the family's power to fight and defend ourselves. Something I find ever more relevant in the face of loss. First it was my husband in conflict with other Dragons, and then my first son, Eskgargos. The time between their deaths is long, but the sting of both remain just as strong. So you will have to forgive me if I remain apprehensive to the concept of the family growing. I really don't want the family to go through the sense of loss again, so I need to ask ahead of time, Zether. Are you being genuine? Can Azultiri really have you to show off her creations to? Can Malgkirgor actually look up to you for support as he raises his own child?"

Zether was rather happy with the tail guard, there was no way he could find his niece annoying though. Something he was sure he will be tested on in time but he generally got along quite well with Azultiri and her personality was a very likeable one. So was Malgkirgor's on that note. Still, he looked ever forward to teaching his niece how to use anti-magic, on that thought he thought about ways to use his natural Anti-magic to augment some of the powers the gems exhibit. Taking the enchantments a step further one would say. But that would be experimented later once all of this was done. Hearing that Uzulmira was the one that taught Azultiri how to enchant and then set up her workshop was certainly nice to know. "If I do never hear the end of it, it will just mean I did a good job. Though I suppose I won't hear the end of it if I do a terrible job... Hmm."

To hear that he wasn't interrupting any groundbreaking book she had her eyes on was good to hear, thought to hear it had to do with softskin traditions and laws was interesting. A trip offworld... Must be to a world with a population majority of humanoids. Which would be any number of planets in this Nebula. "Aaah I see, anywhere specific? I can't say I know too much about the worlds in the Nebula yet but I do have a good eye for things like vacations." He says as he takes not that she was moving towards her gauntlet while she spoke of the little get together he will have later with the family. That was then he heard the real reason why she wanted him to come see her, to tell her of things that he planned to keep to himself in his tale of his past. In truth there were certain events he would keep in the dark but he wouldn't say that he had lived a good life with a daughter out of nowhere... He had planned to say that he was a Zerg slave weapon during his early years but leave it at that. "There are things I did intend to keep hidden until everyone was more accustomed to me... Getting everything out in the open all on the first time we've met... It seemed a poor choice at the time."

He then watched as she placed the gauntlet on, flexing the claws and seeing the gemstones shine in their illustrious splendor. Of course it was not at full power, she even let him get a good look of the gauntlet as she held it up to him as she explained its origin, one he loosely heard through its creator. But she then went on to explain what it represented to her... And Zether completely agreed with her. And he certainly could not fault her for her misgivings, if it were him he would scour all sources of knowledge available to him to see if this was the truth. Something he makes clear before he answers her question. "You don't need to ask any sort of forgiveness from me. If the roles were reversed I would do my utmost to see if all the audacious things I have said were true. I have not made it easy on you, I should be the one asking for forgiveness in this case..."

He then took a moment, gathering his thoughts as he on how best to word this. How best to get his feelings across without sounding like a clown. But then he decided to just say it from the heart, overthinking things will only lead to misunderstandings. And he prefered to speak from his heart when it came to matters of family. "If I was not genuine about my being here, I would never have stepped off my throne. Knowing who I am, knowing where I came from means more to me then an Empire, a race and a dynasty I forged with my two hands. Eh, claws. I left the life I forged for myself behind so I could know who I really am, who my father's family is and where I could have standed in the universe if things were slightly different... Do not mistake that for a fickle notion that I will not pour my everything into being here though. To me, family is worth everything. I left my empire, the race I made and my family in the hands of my first daughter, who I have given my body protecting since the day I met her under the dying sky of her homeworld. If you wish to know if I am truly genuine about family and what I have done to protecting it... Then you are free to ask any Zerg broodmother that Iammelon has taken in. I'm sure they all remember the day I adopted my daughter quite well."

Honour guard wrote:Filia lowers her suspicion of her alittle at the mention of Penicillin. She didn't know if that was going to work on Harlock, seeing as he only took on a human appearance thanks to his changeling heritage. His alien biology may not agree with whatever the medical standard was around here. "I'll have to tell you now, my friends may appear human but they aren't like you or me. I don't know how that stuff will effect him. But given his condition we'll just have to take the gamble... And don't mention it. I'd want someone to do the same for me in that situation."

Once they had gotten back, it would appear that Harlock's exhaustion had caught up with him. His human visage was very much gone as he looked like his changeling self again. Filia looked to Jazmin as she smiled over "This is Elise, a doctor that got locked in here before this place got cut off from the surface. Meaning she can at least be trusted. I only just met her but seeing as she was a medical lab locked in some sort of tube, I'd say we can at least trust she's not with the AI on the surface. How have things been here?"

-----

He certainly couldn't fault her view on the Creach's creation myths, it did sound overly grandiose but he wasn't going to risk saying it aloud. But if people take comfort in it then let them, hell of alot better than considering yourself wormfood once you've lived out your usefulness in a unflinching cosmos.

He was tickled that she forgot that he wasn't born around here. To that end he brought his long and wiry tail, something that he normally doesn't include with his human form seeing as most people don't like to look at the Firstborn Reaver's true form, and lightly bring it out through the sleeve of his jacket to waggle it at her. "Whatever gave that away~?" The tail quickly disappeared after that, no need to attract too much attention. He was very good with his tail, with it being very dexterous and thick as a hose pipe he could proficient use it for a number of things. Something she would be more than aware of after last night of course.

Still, enough about his dexterous tail and its many... Functions. He listened to what this 'Splash' game was. And from what he was told, it was a hunting game. Rather interesting, it certainly appealed to the more primal part of him. Though from the sounds of it, it was a nobles game. And he doubted he could use his status as Lord commander to get a way in, not without some Fattie having him as a way to get a backdoor into Firstborn politics and such. "I'd rather not gamble, never really thought of myself as a man of chance... Gunsmith does sound good though. Though I don't know if one would be willing to let me do some tinkering if we're only going to be here for a short while... I'd narrow it down more if I could, the only issue is that much like you my work was my life."

Elise nodded, “I had deduced that perhaps you were not from this world. I shall keep this in mind when I treat him. Thank you for the warning, and your confidence.” She smiled a little, but maintained her stern face.

Upon entering the room, Elise nodded to Jazmin. “Hello, uh, I’ll assume the one on the floor is the one in need of help.” She approached snd started administering penicillin, and started checking over his general physical condition.
Jazmin creeped towards Filia and whispered to her, “is it me or does she sound like that ai?”

-

Liline merely looked at his tail as it appeared from his sleeve and responded with an indifferent look. “Such rudeness. A lady like me deserves a proper gentleman, not a crass bloke!” Her stern look turned to a smirk and she turned her head straight head. “Oho? Not a lucky man, does that mean my escort is full of gambling arrears? Spent too much money on the hounds eh?” She sneered and got serious again, “Aah, I suppose I can see the issue then. Well... perhaps we can find something to do then? But first, lunch! How does a cafe strike you?”

Honour guard

House of vengeance wrote:As Ilox and her two companions approach, it was noticeable to see that it was a first time for alot of the guards present to see a Taurus like the good Captain standing beside the human, and even more were including both the Baron and the Baroness had never seen a Ialao before. Seeing as their more gentle nature would not bring them amongst Apex's numbers naturally. Still, all behaved themselves as Ilox and her Captains approached.

As Ilox addresses Fraph directly, the Baroness stared down at her for a moment seemingly staring through her as a dull expression. Was she disinterested in meeting with them? Was she- W-Wait her eyes seemed to refocus on the small human before her and started to look... Incredibly lost. Mithra did mention that Fraph was something of an introvert. She probably isn't very good at dealing with new people like thi- And she's offering her hand, oh her hand could easily grab hold of Ilox's head it's a big hand. A genius tactician, very bad with dealing with people... The Poor giant woman is way out of her element. A rather interesting lack of confidence for someone her size.

Despite this lack of presence she seemed to have, the troops didn't seem all that deterred by this. Still perfectly stood tall as they all waited for their Baroness to find her footing.

Mithra just pats one of the lower arms of Fraph, slightly making her jump as she looks down at the Baron beside her. Mithra speaks to her with a familiarity that seems to ease her rigid awkwardness. The two of them must be pretty familiar for her to ease up. "Come now, use your words. I can vouch that they are good people." Fraph eyes move from him to look around unsure for a moment but she seems to resolve her own fright and what was no doubt a stressful feeling in her chest that would have had her leaving. She looks back to Ilox with surety as she speaks up. Despite her size her voice was not booming like Tabbina's was. It was soft, not because it was high. Her voice was deep but like silk on the ears. Unintentionally sultry, almost confident in her manner of speaking. "The feeling is mutual Commander Ilox, welcome to our little corner of the space. Mithra told me about his encounter with you briefly before your arrival. It would seem we are in the same boat."

Ilox looked up at the rather nervous Fraph and she was rather amused by her uncertainty. The OMNI Commander actually got a bit of a smile on her face from it, as she did not at all mind. She wasn't a overly strict person, and she did not blame Fraph for being nervous in regards to meeting a new species and culture filled with people you don't know. She was a leader of soldiers, not a diplomat or explorer, and her troops clearly respected her. That meant she was not weak, simply not in her element. Besides, perfect social skills were hardly a requirement for a tactician. So Ilox had a positive reception to the big, lost Baroness.

She simply decided to shake some of Fraph's fingers, as she couldn't shake the whole hand. The oddly sultry voice got an amused eye raising from Captain Maltoi since he wasn't expecting one larger than a Taurus to have such a voice, getting a small smile from him as well. Ilox responded calmly, not at all minding the delay, "That we are, both pushed into traveling the ether after being pushed from our homes. Your fleet is impressive, I must say. And I commend you for dealing with Apex as well, or at least one batch of them. They're a troublesome bunch, and ones I know all too well. Your subordinates spoke well of you, so it's a pleasure to meet you. As I am sure you can guess, I would like to be on good terms with your House of Vengeance, so I'll follow along with the procedures here. Mithra said I needed to meet with you before we could wander about the fleet, so what sort of things do you need me to do? Oh, and I suppose I should introduce the two with me. This is Marine Captain Maltoi, he is a Taurus and a close quarters combat expert." Maltoi gave a wide smile and a wave with his hand. He stayed silent for now however, even despite a clear wish to talk, since he was not granted permission to do so by the commander. Ilox then gestured to the Ialao, "And this is Captain Sysglow, she's an Ialao and more of a technical person." Sysglow simply gave Fraph a nod, before glancing about again to get more looks at the fighter craft in the hanger she seemed to be curious about.

House of vengeance

L empire

Far from the bounds of the empire deep in uncharted ether or perhaps simply uncharted by the Bezannians, a lone ship sailed. It was a standard Bezannian sloop, a small and light civilian craft. The ship couldn’t have been bigger than fifty metres or so. Across the ship were five crew, a Fatimazda named George was at the helm. He wore a blue woollen jacket and grey trousers, with a long smoking pipe in his mouth. He wore a pair of binoculars around his neck and steered the ship through the endless etherwaves. A cup of tea sat on a table nearby and he lifted it to sip it.
The door to the bridge opened up and an Âne in wellies and a grey jacket entered the bridge, removing his cap, “Cap’n, we’ve got a planet on the range finder. Orograph shows it’s got plenty of landing sites too.”
The fatimazda turned his head, “tell the stripes in the back to get their kit together.” The Âne nodded and put his cap back on before leaving the bridge. Clovis headed down the length of the ship, stopping as he heard the crack of a gunshot. Turning his head over, he spotted a Measctha holding a rifle and firing at the ether.
“Star blasted!” The woman shouted, “Bleeding sharks trying to sneak up on us! Oh, sorry if I startled you, Mister Clovis.”
The Âne raised his hand, “No worries from me, Saoirse. Just keep killing the finned bastards.” He turned again and headed down into an engine area. Passing by whirring and clanking machines, he found two Creach, a man and a woman, elbow deep in engine guts and grease. Clovis shouted, “Oy, Isabella, John, Cap’n wants both of you to your kit!”
The Isabella’s ears wiggled and she popped her head up only to throw a wrench at Clovis. The Âne dodged it and it clanged against the wall behind him, “Piss off! I just got started on trying to fix this ‘ere engine! And now you’re already dragging me away! Fix this, fix that, it’s all the same with you! What? Did the muscle invade your ears too, you crossbreeded rouseabout?”
Clovis grabbed the wrench and shook his head, “Cap’n’s orders, stupide chatte dépouillée...” His voice trailed off as he spoke his insult.
“What’d you say, ya limp-wristed mount? If yer going to insult me, speak the empress’ tongue, shal-lon reprobate.” Clovis left the engine room as Isabelle jumped out from her engine pit, dragging the poor John from it too. She wiped her hands and headed for a locker. Stowing a mechanics aprons and gloves, and grabbing a pair of thick lensed eyeglasses she left the engine room. John following after her shortly.

Meanwhile on the deck, Saoirse slung her rifle and headed into the main cabin. She removed her ether mask and breath equipment, stowing it. Clovis was packing bags in the next room over, Isabella and John joining him. The three worked silently to pack canvas and leather bags with pickaxes, dynamite, and other tools. Saoirse dawned a khaki jacket and wide brimmed hat. Loading up a bandolier with different types of bullets, she patted her holstered pistol, a boot knife, a hip knife, her rifle, then tipped her hat. She suddenly gasped and dug through a locker before pulling out a small flask. Kissing it and grabbing a cigarette case, she slid the two items into her jacket’s pockets.

The ship descended towards the surface of a planet, after preparations had been made. A planet of yellowish hue, one full of wide yellow forests and plains. Imposing mountains and long rivers. George grabbed a telephone from near the helm, “I’ll bring her down in a plain and we’ll see about making some initial spots.” He hung up the phone and shortly after the ship dropped lower. Hovering just above some yellow grassy fields, John and Isabella descended down some rope ladders with large canvas bags of wooden stakes and mallets. The pair hammered stakes into the ground, both wore dirty blue shirts and black trousers with tall boots. Isabella wore a bandana around her neck like a cravat. After hammering in a series of stakes, the pair laid down some large planks in a V shape. Backing away to a safe distance, they waved their arms and the ship slowly came to rest on the small temporary landing pad. The two creach watched as Saoirse came down next, sporting a pair of black shades she hit the ground and stepped away from the ship. Hands in her pockets she eyed the horizon. Finally Clovis and George came down.

Without knowing it, the quintet had set foot on Dynar.

L empire

Triporea wrote:L empire

Far from the bounds of the empire deep in uncharted ether or perhaps simply uncharted by the Bezannians, a lone ship sailed. It was a standard Bezannian sloop, a small and light civilian craft. The ship couldn’t have been bigger than fifty metres or so. Across the ship were five crew, a Fatimazda named George was at the helm. He wore a blue woollen jacket and grey trousers, with a long smoking pipe in his mouth. He wore a pair of binoculars around his neck and steered the ship through the endless etherwaves. A cup of tea sat on a table nearby and he lifted it to sip it.
The door to the bridge opened up and an Âne in wellies and a grey jacket entered the bridge, removing his cap, “Cap’n, we’ve got a planet on the range finder. Orograph shows it’s got plenty of landing sites too.”
The fatimazda turned his head, “tell the stripes in the back to get their kit together.” The Âne nodded and put his cap back on before leaving the bridge. Clovis headed down the length of the ship, stopping as he heard the crack of a gunshot. Turning his head over, he spotted a Measctha holding a rifle and firing at the ether.
“Star blasted!” The woman shouted, “Bleeding sharks trying to sneak up on us! Oh, sorry if I startled you, Mister Clovis.”
The Âne raised his hand, “No worries from me, Saoirse. Just keep killing the finned bastards.” He turned again and headed down into an engine area. Passing by whirring and clanking machines, he found two Creach, a man and a woman, elbow deep in engine guts and grease. Clovis shouted, “Oy, Isabella, John, Cap’n wants both of you to your kit!”
The Isabella’s ears wiggled and she popped her head up only to throw a wrench at Clovis. The Âne dodged it and it clanged against the wall behind him, “Piss off! I just got started on trying to fix this ‘ere engine! And now you’re already dragging me away! Fix this, fix that, it’s all the same with you! What? Did the muscle invade your ears too, you crossbreeded rouseabout?”
Clovis grabbed the wrench and shook his head, “Cap’n’s orders, stupide chatte dépouillée...” His voice trailed off as he spoke his insult.
“What’d you say, ya limp-wristed mount? If yer going to insult me, speak the empress’ tongue, shal-lon reprobate.” Clovis left the engine room as Isabelle jumped out from her engine pit, dragging the poor John from it too. She wiped her hands and headed for a locker. Stowing a mechanics aprons and gloves, and grabbing a pair of thick lensed eyeglasses she left the engine room. John following after her shortly.

Meanwhile on the deck, Saoirse slung her rifle and headed into the main cabin. She removed her ether mask and breath equipment, stowing it. Clovis was packing bags in the next room over, Isabella and John joining him. The three worked silently to pack canvas and leather bags with pickaxes, dynamite, and other tools. Saoirse dawned a khaki jacket and wide brimmed hat. Loading up a bandolier with different types of bullets, she patted her holstered pistol, a boot knife, a hip knife, her rifle, then tipped her hat. She suddenly gasped and dug through a locker before pulling out a small flask. Kissing it and grabbing a cigarette case, she slid the two items into her jacket’s pockets.

The ship descended towards the surface of a planet, after preparations had been made. A planet of yellowish hue, one full of wide yellow forests and plains. Imposing mountains and long rivers. George grabbed a telephone from near the helm, “I’ll bring her down in a plain and we’ll see about making some initial spots.” He hung up the phone and shortly after the ship dropped lower. Hovering just above some yellow grassy fields, John and Isabella descended down some rope ladders with large canvas bags of wooden stakes and mallets. The pair hammered stakes into the ground, both wore dirty blue shirts and black trousers with tall boots. Isabella wore a bandana around her neck like a cravat. After hammering in a series of stakes, the pair laid down some large planks in a V shape. Backing away to a safe distance, they waved their arms and the ship slowly came to rest on the small temporary landing pad. The two creach watched as Saoirse came down next, sporting a pair of black shades she hit the ground and stepped away from the ship. Hands in her pockets she eyed the horizon. Finally Clovis and George came down.

Without knowing it, the quintet had set foot on Dynar.

As the blue sun roze upon the horizon, its diamond-like glow shone through the windows of the wooden hut of Juro’bein Ta’ishian. Its glow warmed the cold dark oak like wood. Juro’bein himself could feel the warm diamond blue light slowly wash over him. As the light continued to pour in as the sun roze, Juro’bein slowly sat up, letting out a long guttural yawn, before stepping out of bed. His clawed feet made a clicking noise as they touched upon the warm oak wood of the floor. He stretched his back and looked around. His wooden hut was simple, but quite beautiful in its simplicity. Long oak boards nailed together perfectly. It’s walls are covered in parchment with small spiral galaxies stretching across them. Across his bed was a small cabinet, with a clay galaxy on top, with candles surrounding it. Below it hung a painting of a tall figure, clad in red robes, with a large golden chest piece draped over them. The painting wore a strange and regal headgear, it was silver and arched up, with bends in the side, with two eyes slits and a mouth and in his left hand he held a towering silver staff, which was covered in swirls and glistening stars.

He took a deep breath and approached the cabinet. He pulled open one of its drawers and pulled out a small rug and laid it down. The rug was a simple white rug, with little triangles of black knitted into it. He rolled it out in front of the painting and clay structure and kneeled, the bristles on his knees bending slightly as they touched the soft rug. He bowed his head to the painting before muttering. “Oh Divine Adonai, who possesses and makes all creation and our blessed Father Gabriel, speaker of Adonai. I ask you both to continue to guide me on a peaceful life, I pray for you to bless my children and to keep them safe in combat, I pray that you bring my children much honor in war.” He said softly as he repeated them twenty one times. Before sitting up and standing, and feeling a slight pinch of pain causing him to wince slightly as his knees buckled and popped as he stood.

He bowed one more time to the painting and rolled up the rug, giving it a slight kiss before he put it back into the drawer. He then bowed again before he approached his closet. His closet was made of a similar fine oak, with swirls carved into it. He pulled out a simple black cloth shirt, and beige cloth pants. He then entered his bathroom and turned on the water. The jet blue water rushing into the tub quickly. He pulled off night rags, watching to make sure the cloth didn’t tear upon the bristles and sharpened spikes dotted across his arms. He then stepped into the tub, his feet less clicking and more of a loud clunking sound against the clay. He began washing his chitin like brown skin, taking rags and cleaning the bristles and spikes across his body. Cleaning any grime from them. Once he was done he stepped out of the bath and thanked Adonai for the blessed water, and promptly got dressed and stepped out towards his kitchen.

His kitchen was of a similar simple design to the rest of his hut, his cobble stove, perfectly designed in its masonry while being quite small, with a small tea kettle sitting on top. His table was laid out, bowls put out the night before, three to precise. One for him, and two for his sons if they ever returned home. He let out a melancholy smile at that idea. There was a set of wooden cubbard on either side of the kitchen. He walked towards them, and pulled out some orange leafs, his personal mealworm farm and some golden wheat he kept in bags. He pulled out a large cooking bowl and poured some water in, he plucked out five plump mealworms, dropped them in and poured in the wheat, he then took several of golden leafs and plopped them in as well. He quickly pulled out a spoon and a large mixer and began smashing into the mix, crushing the mealworms inside and mixed them in with the wheat and leafs. He let out a little prayer thanking the mealworms for their life, as he continued to spin and crush. Mixing the various ingredients into a fine paste like substance. He then walked over and poured it into his bowl and began to eat, the slit of his mouth opening wide as he slowly ate the paste inside of his bowl.

Once he was finished, he took the bowls and placed them in his sink. He wash them later. He then walked towards the door, slipping on his sandals and putting on his wheat straw like hat that protected him from the sun and picked up his wheat carrying basket. He stepped out of his home and entered the streets.
The streets of his little village were bustling, with mothers taking their daughters to matchmakers and suitors. With sons battling with fake swords, with shopkeepers selling various meats and breads. He smiled, as he walked through the streets. Whistling slightly as he walked, admiring the golden leafs on the tree’s. Suddenly a piercing noise was heard, it was quiet at first but grew louder and louder, until he had to drop his basket to put his hand over his ears. He looked around seeing others doing the same. He also noticed a family looking in absolute shock up at the sky, there hands fallen to their sides. He was curious what they were staring at, until he saw it and his jaw dropped.

A massive ship, passing through the atmosphere, its engines blazing. He all but fell on his knees as he stared at it, as it landed towards the field he worked at. Slowly more and more people saw it, and then their was mass panic as families rushed around. Soldiers nearby tried to calm down the crowds, as they tried to relay a message to any command post nearby about what's happening.

On the fields

As the crew landed upon the fields, there was this uncanny feeling of being watched, as the golden wheat swayed violently as the ship's engines turned off. The feeling of being watched continued, and Isabella would be the first to spot them. A group of about a dozen alien men. They were brown skinned, their skin itself resembling a mixture of flesh and chitin. Their heads were oddly shaped with plates of overlapping chitin skin, creating dense plates over the skull. The creature's mouth was a diangle slit across its face. The aliens were wearing straw hats, black shirts and baige pants, each had a pair of sandals on, and were carrying hoes and massive baskets full of the golden wheat. Piercing out of their clothes were pricks, bristles and spikes, which dotted the creatures arms and legs.

The creatures simply stared in awe, perplexed and afraid of the crew as they staired at them. One of them dropped his hoe, another his basket, and soon the group of farmers had begun backing up slowly muttering something to themselves as they slowly walked backwards through the wheat field keeping their eyes on the crew.

L empire

Thomane System, Confederation Space

Eanisk-class corvettes were primarily designed nearly perfectly. They spent an immense amount of time being looked over by Confederate shipwrights and artifical intelligence. The frame itself was usually first, as the internal components were laid in and the hull was designed with the aid of an organic being, usually a Ticonin to pour over each small detail in electronics and component quality. This time however, this particular ship, the River Breaker was overseen by a human. Ticonins largely tended to not make mistakes, as craft was their life, and humans generally only tended to ships if other ships required aid at the time with repairs or retrofits.

A critical part of every ship was of course navigation, tied to the SCHISM AI. The AI itself interfaced with a secondary computer purely designed to calculate Ether lanes and storms, and aligning and recharging the sails. One circuit had a microimperfection, which would've been noticed had it not been for the Vok diplomatic team due for the vessel. It had to be hurried, and the imperfection was passed over. Now while traveling the Ether lane, the navigation terminal made a serious miscalculation and shut off the sails. The AI noticed and engaged the failure protocols, firing off its emergency buoys and a Raven Surveilance Craft as it exited near the planet of Thomane. The violent force in which the ship had been shunted had damaged the main engines used for sublight travel, and it soon entered a rapidly decaying orbit as it viewed the citadel below.

The AI engaged its second and third failsafe, diverting all of its power to shields and communications, sending a brief burst of binary and expending its last buoy into orbit near the Raven. The third failsafe was engaging the crew in a powerful stasis field so they wouldn't be ragdolled. Soon enough as it breached the atmosphere and the friction burned into its energy shielding, it no later slammed into the ground and slid for a solid forty seconds as the kinetic energy was expended. The ship then allowed its stasis field to fail when the AI had judged the energy was gone, and kept its shields online.

Captain Lexuius cursed under her breath, as the RAU drones and soldiers were reorganized. The Vok diplomat, Aithanar slowly stood up as he and the two guardians the Vok had attached as a diplomatic courtesy regained themselves. The crew checked their suits, as two Diplomatic Security Task Force soldiers moved forward to the airlock in DMAS-100 MK1 armor, before opening it. Their suits would judge the air and if it was toxic to their bodies, as they slowly surveryed the area, using the shipwreck as a cover.

The Ebony Republic wrote:L empire

Thomane System, Confederation Space

Eanisk-class corvettes were primarily designed nearly perfectly. They spent an immense amount of time being looked over by Confederate shipwrights and artifical intelligence. The frame itself was usually first, as the internal components were laid in and the hull was designed with the aid of an organic being, usually a Ticonin to pour over each small detail in electronics and component quality. This time however, this particular ship, the River Breaker was overseen by a human. Ticonins largely tended to not make mistakes, as craft was their life, and humans generally only tended to ships if other ships required aid at the time with repairs or retrofits.

A critical part of every ship was of course navigation, tied to the SCHISM AI. The AI itself interfaced with a secondary computer purely designed to calculate Ether lanes and storms, and aligning and recharging the sails. One circuit had a microimperfection, which would've been noticed had it not been for the Vok diplomatic team due for the vessel. It had to be hurried, and the imperfection was passed over. Now while traveling the Ether lane, the navigation terminal made a serious miscalculation and shut off the sails. The AI noticed and engaged the failure protocols, firing off its emergency buoys and a Raven Surveilance Craft as it exited near the planet of Thomane. The violent force in which the ship had been shunted had damaged the main engines used for sublight travel, and it soon entered a rapidly decaying orbit as it viewed the citadel below.

The AI engaged its second and third failsafe, diverting all of its power to shields and communications, sending a brief burst of binary and expending its last buoy into orbit near the Raven. The third failsafe was engaging the crew in a powerful stasis field so they wouldn't be ragdolled. Soon enough as it breached the atmosphere and the friction burned into its energy shielding, it no later slammed into the ground and slid for a solid forty seconds as the kinetic energy was expended. The ship then allowed its stasis field to fail when the AI had judged the energy was gone, and kept its shields online.

Captain Lexuius cursed under her breath, as the RAU drones and soldiers were reorganized. The Vok diplomat, Aithanar slowly stood up as he and the two guardians the Vok had attached as a diplomatic courtesy regained themselves. The crew checked their suits, as two Diplomatic Security Task Force soldiers moved forward to the airlock in DMAS-100 MK1 armor, before opening it. Their suits would judge the air and if it was toxic to their bodies, as they slowly surveryed the area, using the shipwreck as a cover.

As the Corvette, in its immaculate near-perfect form passed by the ancient derelict satellites. Designs of an unknown origin, whose layout almost resembled noneuclidean geometry. These ancient spirals made of metal unknowable to the denizens below, dotted with swirls and bending path way’s which orbited above Thomane, whose technology borders on magic, technology unknown and forgotten to the denizens of Thomane, it sputtered like a heart beat, its long dormant nervo systems, blaring to life as it not just detected, but felt the corvette pass by. The “Satellite” if such a mortal word could be used to describe such a being, slowly restored to life. Many of its systems are broken, and need extreme repair after eons of disrepair and sleep. But the few systems it did have were operating, sputtered as it began a scan of the craft, looking for life signs and brain waves as it poured over the ship.

It’s “sensors” again if a mortal word could be used to describe such long forgotten technology, poured over a ship and in a few seconds, produced a diagnosis of the craft and its inhabitants. Fifty four in total, its ship stretched hundred meters long and was primarily powered by artificial intelligence. The Satellite tried to scan further, for weapons, materials it was constructed out of, and purpose. But those instruments had all died out ten millennia ago. So it sighed, and began pondering its message. It needed to at least inform Lord Knight 1;1 about the encroaching vessel, but what would get his attention. Thus it flicked through its language database and hymned in approval as it found the Language of both its master and the Seraphs creator, Gabriel. Thus it began whirling up, its psychic instruments drumming up as its “heart” pounded and its message began to be weaved together. Once it was finished, its mental array pointed towards the mighty sanctuary fortress, and it let out a massive psychic wave, hoping it would crack through the numbskulls mental defenses.

In the sanctuary

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GADx3SqNZL4 listen to this)
Past the gates of Elijah, decorated in magnificent golds and silvers, with gemstones numbering as many as the stars themselves in the sky. Weaving through the mighty corridors, whos murials stretch as long as cities, depicting cataclyismic battles and magnificent birth. Through spirals the size of mountains, made of the purest silver. Past mighty towers, which towered over even the tallest of mountains. These towers, made of gold and metals of a beautiful but unknowable color, towered so high clouds themselves formed around them, with a roof of most beautiful blue. Past this are libraries, libraries which stretch hundreds of miles long, and whos tomes touched the skies itself. Knowledge contained in this, unknowable even to the Lord Knight himself. Weaving through this, are monumental bridges of pure light, which bridge over cliffs and abyss’s. Finally we reach the final hallway’s, made of pure light, they all encroached on one final room. A room of gold and silver, and a mural the size of a dozen cities spanning over its back wall. A mural of mighty Gabriel (reference




  • Read factbook

    ) stood triumphant.

    Under the mighty Murial, which seemed to stand defiant against all, was but a simple wooden throne. There sat Lord Knight 1;1, his flowing hair cast across his back as he was in his twelfth hour of daily prayer, his white eye’s clenched shut as he muttered his prayers. His peace was soon disrupted by an itch on his head, he tried to ignore it, but soon the itch grew into a mighty pain on his forehead. Then a pain in his mind, which burned. Burned of fire. He tried to refocus and try to cast this pain out, cast it out of his mind. But the pain was metamorphosing into words...words of his Creator, of his mentor, best friend and most important father figure. These words spoke out to him, they coursed through his mind like an unrelenting river, before finally stopping and slowly dissipating to simple whispers.

    Lord Knight 1;1, master of the Seraphs, Destroyer of the Corruptos Zegreus, firstborn of the Seraphs and Gabriels personally chosen. He stood, tall and mighty, white hair flowing. Eye’s pure as white calculating, and quickly marched over to a fortress matrix that laid in the throne room. He pressed a few buttons into its holographic display, and began speaking a message which would be broadcasted across the sanctuary fortress. “Attention, brothers and sisters, it is I the Lord Knight 1;1. I have been informed, by something baring our creator's voice and language, was it him or some ancient construct. I do not know. But I do know, it has warned me of a xeno vessel has landed upon our world, their purpose, their message, their arms are totally unknown. What is known is that there are fifty four of them. We must approach with extreme caution and wury, but not hostility. Thus I am sending Chaplin Sister 14;1 and Paladin Brother 3;16 to greet them. They have landed on the south end of our world, so Sister and Brother intercept them, be cautious, but friendly in the end and if they come in peace inform me directly...we will go from there. May Father Gabriel and Creator on High Alohai protect us and guide us.” he finished and he walked back to his throne and sat down. It had been many, many millennia sense the confederation last encountered a race that was unknown, would these xeno prove to be friend or foe. All life was of Alohai’s creation wasn’t it. But life was damned upon the first war between Yoth and the Aborant and the Annihilation event by Sehkemet which came after. So...Lord Knight 1;1 returned to prayer, deeper then he has in millenia.

    Landing Site

    As the suits stepped out and scanned the atmosphere, they find it to be perfectly fine, infact more then perfect. The suits picked up, that almost any living thing could breath in the air and be perfectly fine. The air also seemed to have odd but unique taste as the suits scanned it, it smelling and tasting of the finest luxuries in life. Aithnar also spotted surrounding them untold beauty. Their were roses more vibrant then they had ever seen. Grasses of finest green which weaved peacefully through the wind.

    The Climate itself was also in a sort of perfect zone, with a semi tropical feel to it, as the diamond blue sun shined over them. But unlike tropical worlds, it was not overly hot, but a nice soothing warm, with a nice calming light breeze flowing over them. They looked further though, they spotted it. Something which could only be described as a continental in size. A towering fortress which pierced the clouds. It was covered with massive buttresses. It was dotted with statues of robed men, each holding something in their hands which they couldn’t exactly make out from this distance. City sized stained glass paintings of what looked to be depicting stories creation, its outside was ordained in various golds and marbles, its pure whites reflecting and seemingly merging with the pure golds as the light of diamond colored sun clashed against it.

    surrounding the fortress were similar sized mountain chains which seemed to stretch on and on into the horizons. The fortress towered over even these mountains, making the smallest among them look like a mere ant hill’s.

    Iammelon

    A hand lifted a small vial of wax from a burner and poured it onto a letter. Grabbing a stamp, the hand flipped it to align the cipher and pushed it into the wax. After a few seconds, the stamp was lifted. Revealing a purple seal, with a crown and opposing Tiger and Lion, and in the center an SRI initial. Picking up a phone, a claw pushed a button at the bottom of the gilded handle.
    “I’m ready now.” An old and tired voiced spoke into the phone.
    “Yes, majesty.” The receiver was set down.
    The doors to the room opened swiftly, and a human with receding hair and a well groomed moustache in an all black morning suit entered the room. “Would you like the curtains opened? Tea?”
    “No thank you, Reginald,” the old voice spoke, “But perhaps some sun would do me good, fetch my Lady’s Maid and the doctor. I’d like to be checked before the event.”
    “At once, majesty.” He took the letter and left the room. On the way out he snapped his fingers and a servant in a tuxedo ran over. “Fetch the first lady’s maid and send for the doctor.” The servant bowed and ran off. The man then headed for a nearby stairwell, and briskly walked down the carpeted stairs. He walked through many hall ways before coming to a covered driveway. A different servant wearing a long coat and tophat was sitting on a wooden chair. “To the porte-cochère.” The man in the coat bowed his head and took the letter. Tucking it into a leather case, he grabbed an umbrella that was leaning against his chair and hopped into the sidecar of motorcycle. The vehicle sputtered to life as it drove down a gravel driveway, across the approach to the palace, past the fountains and grand escalade, and too the Funicular Station. Passing through many iron gates, past many guards, the servant boarded the funicular which jolted and started a steady descent down. Reaching the bottom of the hill with a ding he approached a door and slid it open. Stepping away from the funicular, he approached a small wooden office. Stepping out from the office was yet another servant, wearing a waistcoat and trousers with no jacket. The servant in the coat handed the leather case to the man in the waistcoat who nodded briskly and headed into the office. The man in the coat turned and headed back to the funicular while the one with the case grabbed a phone handle.
    “Bring up a car and courier to the porte-cochère, yes, yes. Enfilade and Turning Catch. Yes, that’s right you heard the right code. Now step too, man.” He hung up the phone.
    A minute later a black coupe drove into the porte-cochere from deeper in the underground carpark. Two men were inside, both wearing top hats, frock coats, and cloaks. The man in the waistcoat handed the passenger the leather case.
    “This is going to the golden mountain, urgently.” The gate of the cochère opened and the car took off down the street. The imperial standard on the flag flapped in the wind as the black car with purple accents sped down King Henry Boulevard. It reached Dunkleshire in about forty five minutes and boarded a waiting ethership docked in a jetty. Onboard the ship was a small compliment of Imperial Marines as well as the two agents.

    The ship reached Heord with haste, having used etherfoils to scream across the lanes on urgent business. As the ship approached Iammelonain space, the captain signaled Union communications.
    “Union Etherlane Traffick Control, this is the HIMY Queen of Maryburgh. I carry two representatives of Her Imperial Majesty, Shanalotte. They have urgent business with Lord, er, President Tyfrondor. Hysebarrow Palace sent a communication informing you of our intent. Advise and confirm the meeting of representatives’ destination is the Golden Mountain on Heord and not Government House on Javalus, over.”

    «12. . .327328329330331332333. . .345346»

    Advertisement