NationStates Jolt Archive

The whispers of the Dark Lord Agardeloth could be heard echoing through the winds. The Undead were ordered in columns and rows as if prepared to march to war. Motor Carts powered on the flammable resin of trees could be seen loaded with material, machines and equipment.

The whispers grew louder...

http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid79/p66c670a281e4e6e9de680a2c7ca3c6e5/fb1aea7b.jpg

And suddenly, the wormhole opened. A purple vortex both beautiful and terrible at the same time and wreathed with darkness. The other side could not be seen.
The ordered columns of Undead Soldiers and Zombie Citizens as well as Motorised Carts laiden with equipment passed through the doorway to a new world. Agardeloth said farewell to these lands that had created him and went off to a new world where none could track him for several ages. This place would become The Corpselands, rebuilt on an alien soil...

The portal closed and could no longer be seen....

We warn the Corpselands never to return to our world again, or they will face the consequences

yea
scary
wut u gonna do wit all those zombie dudes

Bump.

ooc:

Yay! A Sept. 13th nation! A nation created on my birthday.

*grin*

Reason why we leave the Earth:-

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=71534

The Whispering Voices taskforce landed ... in a land washed clean by Wazzu's blessed and artificial rain ... and found nothing.

OOC:
Ah, fudge! ^_^

The Menelmacari task force landed also... well, it would be a good place for a colony, at least. More land for Menelmacar! :mrgreen:

Siri: The bastard got away again. Damn... well, we'll get 'im sooner or later...

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
"If it is to be war between us, it shall be war to the knife and the knife to the hilt."
~Foreign Minister Duke Paolio, The Outlands
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

With the dissappearance of the Corpselands, TransCorp could finally get back to its project.

Somewhere in low orbit of Earth, a small ion steering motor stopped, and the connected large mirror showed its true nature.

http://members.cox.net/sincityraiders/images/Sunsail2.jpg

The solar sail, first of any great size in NS [[OOC: Unless you have a thread to dispute this]], and made of wonderous materials who's manufacture was kept tightly sealed, accelerated....

It wasn't anywhere near as fast as gravtech, or as efficient as fusion, but the small probe's elegance was hereto unmatched.

Oddly enough, the Whispering Voices forces had had similar ideas - and more focused ones. They raced to the Black Citadel, following alongside the river of blackness ... and well-guarded by the inquisitors of the Ordo Templi Sancti, whose presence destroyed all magic - although the scarcity of inquisitors did mean that only small groups could be sent to the Citadel at any one time.

It wasn't long before Whispering Voices and Menelmacar forces came into contact - an uneasy contact, given the past between the two; one humanist Dominion nation fresh from a war against SATO, of which Menelmacar was a part - and one pro-elf nation. Natural harbours, mining areas, even inland lakes that weren't too fouled by the presence of undead all resulted in a butting of heads.

One particular such occurrence perhaps had more potential to be a bloodbath than most ...

**************************************************

Captain Jessica Moores of the Third Airborne Interceptors - a Su-37 Flanker pilot, on ground leave - was the instigator of this particular brand of trouble. She was off duty, part of the Whispering Voices force that had occupied one of the largest natural harbours of the Corpselands - a wonderfully sheltered and deep half-lagoon with a protective landspit. They had arrived not an hour before a wandering Menelmacari survey team - and were determined not to be budged.

Wandering along with Frankie De'Sozier of the Fifth Artillery and a bunch of his drinking companions, her companion-at-arms, she was part of a large contingent that were hanging around some temporary prefabricated headquarters, hastily set up to represent a 'claim' ...

And then she saw Idhriendiel. Although not in the Royal Guard, rumours spread fast in an army that works together as frequently as the Voices one. Notices on messageboards, memos, and bulk emails ensured that.

More than a little inebriated on military-issue wine, bored, and possibly with a hint of showing off to Frankie - or possibly not, she couldn't really make up her mind about him - she waited til the red-headed Mornahossë was leading a group of engineers along a rough track.

Not particularly noted for her subtlety at the best of times, Jessica wolf-whistled at the elves, and yelled out: "Whoo-ee lads! It's that slut that made the front pages of all those Salacious Voyeurs magazines two months ago - Subhuman Sexathon, for one." She laughed raucously, and a glossy piece of paper was pressed into her hand. Emboldened by her comrades laughing with her, she strutted towards the elven woman, and then held out a photograph - a laminated centrefold, in fact. It showed Idhrindiel, frontal nude, lying on a soft-looking bed, with an expression of pure relaxation and bliss, her mouth slightly open as if murmuring something in her sleep.

"Come on, sweetie! Give us a signature, would ya? It's not often the lads get to see proof of a genuine strawberry tart, especially not an elf! And don't worry, even though some of them are saying yer flatchested as a man, don't let it get you down!" Jessica gave a smirking wink to Idhrindiel.

Calls of "Show us yer tits, luv!" and "Don't beat around the bush, slut" quickly follow from the rowdy soldiers behind her.

Inwardly, Jessica was a bit nervous - but she was strong, auged in fact, as a Commissioned Officer, and damn good at fighting. Not that that would be much help of course if she got shot, but she didn't think that was too likely.

Bump.

C'tan Confederacy, ISA Information Processing.

"Hey, listen to this." says one of the staff sitting around the large, round and black table, covered both in papers and dataslates, a chaotic mess to the untrained eye, but actually posessed of a strange system of ordering. "The corpselands have left this planet to avoid being attacked."

"Wow." says another

"Now that's cowardice." says another, getting back to work.

The motion was fast, almost invisible, even to the auged soldiers of the Voices group. Before anyone could react, Idhrindiel had turned in one smooth motion. Her monomolecular longsword glinted in the sunlight as it sliced through the photograph, missing Jessica's fingers by perhaps half an inch.

And Idhrindiel's TPX-26 heavy plasma pistol was drawn likewise in her other hand, and levelled unerringly at the pilot's forehead. The laser-pointer dot blinked serenely between Jessica's eyes, the weapon's gaping .75-caliber bore, with its dim red glow of plasma held deep in the vacuum chamber, yawning menacingly like the entrance to Hell itself. The Mornahossë's finger tightened on the trigger, stopping only the barest sliver of distance from the point where the magnetic bottle would be opened, sending a pulse of hot gaseous death down the barrel into the pilot's face.

"You would do well to silence yourself, mortal," Idhrindiel hissed. "I'm sure you have family back home who would like to see you again, Eru only knows why."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
"If it is to be war between us, it shall be war to the knife and the knife to the hilt."
~Foreign Minister Duke Paolio, The Outlands
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Jessica was taken by surprise by Idhrindiel's speed and temper, but she was operating on sheer bravado. "Aw, honey, don't be like that." She gives a mock kiss through the air to Idhrindiel. "And you should drop the dot sights, sweety. If you can't tell where your gun is pointing, you're not old enough to use it." She forces herself to meet Idhrindiel's eyes, but a loud catcall of "Catfight! Get naked, ladies!" distracts her and she looks back.

Idhrindiel can see, however, that much as they're enjoying the spectacle, they're not letting their guards down. She's aware just how fast their smartlinked guns can be aimed straight at a soft spot in armour, a chink or other weakness. She'd probably kill Jessica, if she tried, but she might well not live for long after that.

Idhrindiel shrugs, sheathing her blade. When Jessica turns back, though, Idhrindiel deftly flips her gun over in her hand and clubs Jessica savagely upside the head with the butt of the sleek, but massive weapon; the blow calculated to knock her backwards and to the ground, and again executed with that inhuman speed and grace.

The Elf, also remember, is backed up by the folks she's with; while not Mornahossë, the engineers are every bit as well trained as any Menelmacari regular, which is to say, every bit as well trained as the special forces of most human countries.

"I have better things to do than dance with prepubescent children," Idhrindiel answers. "Such naughty little Catholics. Perhaps what you need to do now is go find one of your priests and confess your 'sinful urges', yes? As for me, I have some soldiering to get back to."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
"If it is to be war between us, it shall be war to the knife and the knife to the hilt."
~Foreign Minister Duke Paolio, The Outlands
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Jessica collapses to the ground, and clutches her jaw. She glares up at Idhrindiel ... and then leaps at her, moving with shocking speed herself. She doesn't have a weapon in her hand - nothing to justify shooting her. But she does level a vicious quick kick at the Mornahossë's instep and a punch at her throat, screaming, "Sinful urges? I'm not the porn star, here."

She didn't have Idhrindiel's training, but she had an equally vicious temper, and a lot of pride to fight for.

Normally Idhrindiel would simply shoot the foolish little woman. She's a soldier, not a police officer. But somehow it just seems more right in this case to simply teach her a lesson. The Elf steps back, keeping a leg extended as Jessica rushes her, hoping to send her back to the ground where she belongs. The kick and the punch both connect, but are glancing blows; her weapon is still out as she has not had time to holster it yet, but with her other hand she drives a punch towards Jessica with one armored fist.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
"If it is to be war between us, it shall be war to the knife and the knife to the hilt."
~Foreign Minister Duke Paolio, The Outlands
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Jessica moves aside, away from the punch, although it still catches her in her left breast, causing her to gasp in pain. But she's tough, and adrenaline is a wonderful thing. She closes with the elf, fast, and attempts to grapple her, hooking one leg behind the elf's and pull them both to the ground.

"Muhahahaha! The fools are fighting among themselves, the land of the Undead is a curse in itself!" Agardeloth could see the fight through the palantir, still useful though worlds apart. Now he began to chant as he focused his power on the duel. The words were harsh and powerful, and the fuels of hate were in them. No doubt they may create a fire that would burn bright.
"No Elf nor Man nor any creature withstand the power of an ancient spell of anger and hate, uncontrollable and fell it is. I need only wait for the match to strike and then the anger shall ignite, soon they will grab those tools of death!"
He continued watching...

With the dissappearance of the Corpselands, TransCorp could finally get back to its project.

Somewhere in low orbit of Earth, a small ion steering motor stopped, and the connected large mirror showed its true nature.

http://members.cox.net/sincityraiders/images/Sunsail2.jpg

The solar sail, first of any great size in NS [[OOC: Unless you have a thread to dispute this]], and made of wonderous materials who's manufacture was kept tightly sealed, accelerated....

It wasn't anywhere near as fast as gravtech, or as efficient as fusion, but the small probe's elegance was hereto unmatched.

[OOC: I could claim the first solar sail - the IDSS Retribution used an EM-based solar sail for stellar flight quite a while back - but I won't, cuz really it's different. ;)]

Thus, all living beings seak to kill, destroy and murder men, the puppets to the flesh.

With the dissappearance of the Corpselands, TransCorp could finally get back to its project.

Somewhere in low orbit of Earth, a small ion steering motor stopped, and the connected large mirror showed its true nature.

http://members.cox.net/sincityraiders/images/Sunsail2.jpg

The solar sail, first of any great size in NS [[OOC: Unless you have a thread to dispute this]], and made of wonderous materials who's manufacture was kept tightly sealed, accelerated....

It wasn't anywhere near as fast as gravtech, or as efficient as fusion, but the small probe's elegance was hereto unmatched.

[OOC: I could claim the first solar sail - the IDSS Retribution used an EM-based solar sail for stellar flight quite a while back - but I won't, cuz really it's different. ;)]

OOC: Don't missunderstand. Wazzu has used EM sails for a long time, mostly as backup (as have other nations). The SS Darkskye (a failed RP experiment some time ago) used one too.

But EM sails are quite different, and not as majestic as these. Not as elegant. And they have never (as far as I know) been used to build private solar yachts.

EDIT: Though the sale thread seems to show that the market doesn't exist.

Jessica brutally bumps into Idhriendiel's very small breasts as she beats the hell out of her.

"I have better things to do than dance with prepubescent children," Idhrindiel answers. "Such naughty little Catholics. Perhaps what you need to do now is go find one of your priests and confess your 'sinful urges', yes? As for me, I have some soldiering to get back to."

Is that anti-Catholicism I hear?

If so, I'm offended at it.

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

Jessica stood up and brushed herself off, leaving Idhrindiel's unconscious body on the ground. It appeared the Mornahossë had blacked out after a particularly vicious arm lock - she certainly hadn't moved for a long time. Amidst the mutterings of the Menelmacari engineers, the pilot walked back to the cheers of the patrol she was with, leaving the torn shreds of the nude photo drifting into the wind to fall on the elf's face.

"Boo-yah, sucks to be a porn star!" she called out, before they trudged off back to the Black Citadel; newest acquisition of the Royal Institute of Genetic Research.

The sulphurous fumes of the rifts that vomited magma wreathed the Black Citadel in noxious fumes that refused to drift. Inside, the Citadel was baking hot but at least the air was clear inside. Huge geothermal power plants incubated rack upon rack of shelves filled with white, pulsating sacks slick with amniotic fluids.

Team leader Markovic walked along the corridors, flanked by armed guards and young interns. At each sac, an intern would stop with a thermormeter to check that the automated readings were still accurate, taking litmus samples to check that the alkaline excretions were of the correct pH.

They all - fortunately - were. "Not long now," Markovic muttered, "until we can ship these things out. Are the data results on the prototype test completed?"

"Yes, sir," one intern - a young man, with several burn and scar marks on his face from a mishap with acid, that were waiting to heal enough for cosmetic surgery - "successful. All scenarios run against Eldar war robots - what we know of them - have been a success."

"Excellent," Markovic responded. "These are practically ready for shipping. Lucky that fight got ended between Idhrindiel and Jessica ended, I felt like I was in a time warp here."

Markovic and his weary team had just reached the end of the last row of eggs in the birthing hall when a slightly-scared looking military communications officer came in bearing a passage and a clipboard.

"Sign here, please, sir," he murmured. Markovic signed, looking at him suspiciously - especially when he scurried off. He opened the package. There was a note and a DVD enclosed.

<Transmission: Team Leader Markovic, Dor Institute of Genetic Production>
<From: Dr Ted Callagham, Royal Institute of Genetic Research>

Please synthesise the genetic coded Ag compound - developed during the Knootoss war for use against Sunset - and inject it into all specimens and future specimens.
I know, life sucks. They've got us working on a mechanism by which we can make the Nephilim feed on industrial waste - all industrial waste. And our deadline is within the month.
So - before you send a memo back flaming me, just bear in mind at least all you have to do is inject a few eggs.
<STOP>

Markovic muttered, and handed it to his second. Who muttered more, swore, and read it out. The interns - about ready for bed - looked around the Ninth birthing hall.

One word was on everyone's mind, and it wasn't a happy one.

It was mid-morning when the plane arrived, carrying its precious cargo of two bodies. The DNA data of those two bodies had been sent on ahead, of course, and previously-constructed organic weapons were being modified for selective targeting ... but corpses just made Markovic feel better, somehow. Plus, they allowed him to grow clones - clones of clones, similar thanks to Whispering Voices' massive concentration in biogenetics to direct copies - which he could test said weapons upon.

Markovic suspected the first thing he would modify would be Project Maneater. It was direct, after all. But visible ... too visible. Possible international outcry. Scythe was too slow. Womb ... Womb, now that would do it.

He had his interns begin work immediately.