17-02-2004, 18:18
The Amarthi had descended upon the north dock, and now, their terrible wrath was upon the heads of the innocent civilians who waited nervously to be borded on the Dominion vessel. The citizens ran aboard the vessel, pushing and shoving their way through each other. In the chaos of the slaughter, the lines between friend and foe were skewed--all became survival in the eyes of the Meteorapolitans and Sanctumites.
To Grendelynne Magg, though, it was a boring affair. The beast stood leaning against the railing near the vessel, yawning loudly as she pushed away one Amarthi after another with her tremendously powerful legs. The creatures flew backward at her strike, some barrelling through citizens, others denting the walls and supports of the building.
"Bah... bloody bullocks... let's get on wit' it already!"
As the last of the citizens boarded the vessel, Grendelynne swung past the railing and toward the Soldati, nodding.
"If y'don't moynd, oy'd loyke t'come along wi'ye! An' if y'do moynd... well, dat's just a pissah, eh?"
With a slow and vile laugh, Grendelynne Magg runs onto the vessel, all the while pulling a small device from a pocket of fur on her right hip. She begins punching into the device, a signal sent out all throughout Io:
I'm calling this business to order. The Mystics of Burninatonia must hereby convene in the land of Sanctum. To ignore this call to order is to forfeit one's position as a Mystic of Burninatonia and thus forfeit one's vote in all such matters.
-The Moon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kretian Thorne felt the buzz of his handheld communicator as he was guided in to Konrad Althalon's chamber. As he pulled it from his pocket, his eyes narrowed, and he grinned a pointed toothy grin. With one long claw, he punched out a response:
I will attend. Just give me a moment to procure some transportation.
-The Steel
As he was guided into the chamber, Thorne's smile shrank to merely friendly, and he kowtowed to the Warlord of the Io Imperium.
"I will waste no words," he hissed. "I can get you a good chunk of this rock. All I ask in return is passage back to Earth and the assurance that if I scratch your back, you will scratch mine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It buzzed in the skull of Princess Tiki as she entered the Great City moments before the Hordes. Since she lacked the capacity for typing, hers was a pre-typed mental call to order, humming in the front of her skull like a honeybee. Her mind slowed into the common tongue, sent forth her response:
Attend will. Sky-Flyer find first.
-The Flame
The Hordes swept into the city behind her, gathering whatever weapons they could find as they swooped forth, taking up arms against their new foes: the Amarthi. Tiki scanned the group carefully, taking in one Hordesman after another, waiting patiently for one leaner, taller, and with a larger head to dart past. Then, as she found her quarry, she whipped forth her tail and captured the creature, holding it in front of her head.
"YOOOOOOOOOU! PILOOOOOOOT!" she howled. The Hordesman stood strangely resolute, even while under capture. "NEED GO SAAAAAAAAAANCTUM! MAKE SKY-FLYER GOOOOOOOO!"
As she put the Hordesman down, Tiki followed the creature to the north dock and the waiting Hodre-piloted vessel therein. She would take off shortly after the Dominion vessel parted the sky.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Bone-Cave was quiet--the Imperial forces were apparently not arriving anytime soon. The Meteorapolitans fired upon the Amarthi who wandered nearby via the murder-holes they had carved in the side of the building, felling the creatures before they could detect the scent of meat from within the structure. At the far end of the room, near the computer console, King Darian I of Creedwater stared intently into his communicator, a look of dismay on his face. He looked out into the group morosely.
"My fellows..." he sighed. "I am called to depart to Earth. The Mystics are convening. But I know that I cannot leave this place, else the Bone-Cave will fall. Therefore, I will remain here, requesting that the convention be..."
"Oh, bloody hell, Highness... you sure are full of yourself."
The group parted as a dark-skinned woman walked toward Darian. Like the King, her face was sharply angular, with a long, protruding nose and pointed ears. Her figure was comely and attired in pink and gold, her shoes large, her red hair tied back in a ponytail. The King nodded slowly.
"Full of myself, perhaps, sister," he said. "But I do not want to see the Bone-Cave fall to the enemy. I do not want to see my people die so that evil may prosper. I do not want to..."
"Oh, shut it, Darian," his sister snapped, smiling. "Who was in charge of military operations in Meteorapolis? Me. You have duties; I can hold the Bone-Cave. I know this city well; you can trust me."
Darian's frown faded to a smile, and he pecked his sister gently on the cheek. “I trust you, Lili,” he said quietly. “And I promise that upon my return, we will have our land back.”
“As you trust me, I don’t doubt you, brother,” Lili replied. “Now get your silly ass out of here and go get us our land back legitimately.”
Darian and Lili exchanged kowtows, and the King of Sanctum took to the wall, climbing to the nearest open hole and jumping outward, gladius drawn. In silent fury he brought his sword through the neck of the nearest Amarthi, cleaving into another that had descended upon him. In a fury of swipes, Darian darted to the nearest black-box-like bus and climbed inside. Closing the door behind him, he began punching into his handheld communicator.
I am certain it is much to your chagrin, Oh Moon, but I will be attending this convention.
Oh Stone, be ready. I will be picking you up on the way.
-The Earth
The final message buzzed into the communicator of The Tempest, who sat high in one of the buildings near the east dock, issuing commands to the troops therein. The soldiers sniped carefully at the approaching Amarthi, aiming for weak points in their natural armor. The Tempest, meanwhile, was silent as he read the message from Mystic Darian, his brows lowered as he punched in a response:
I will be waiting, Oh Earth. It's time to end this.
-The Stone
“Soldiers, I must be off…” he said slowly. “You will be receiving orders from a new commander. Expect word momentarily.”
The soldiers nodded from their position without looking back as Tempest stomped down the building’s stairs and out its front door. The monstrous man had to wait only a moment before the black bus screeched to a halt in front of the building, its door sliding open. Tempest lumbered inside, nodding to its driver, King of Sanctum.
“So it’s finally happened, eh?” the Tempest said as the bus sped off toward the Menelmacari vessel at the east dock.
“So it has,” Darian replies. “The Mystics are convening.”
To Grendelynne Magg, though, it was a boring affair. The beast stood leaning against the railing near the vessel, yawning loudly as she pushed away one Amarthi after another with her tremendously powerful legs. The creatures flew backward at her strike, some barrelling through citizens, others denting the walls and supports of the building.
"Bah... bloody bullocks... let's get on wit' it already!"
As the last of the citizens boarded the vessel, Grendelynne swung past the railing and toward the Soldati, nodding.
"If y'don't moynd, oy'd loyke t'come along wi'ye! An' if y'do moynd... well, dat's just a pissah, eh?"
With a slow and vile laugh, Grendelynne Magg runs onto the vessel, all the while pulling a small device from a pocket of fur on her right hip. She begins punching into the device, a signal sent out all throughout Io:
I'm calling this business to order. The Mystics of Burninatonia must hereby convene in the land of Sanctum. To ignore this call to order is to forfeit one's position as a Mystic of Burninatonia and thus forfeit one's vote in all such matters.
-The Moon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kretian Thorne felt the buzz of his handheld communicator as he was guided in to Konrad Althalon's chamber. As he pulled it from his pocket, his eyes narrowed, and he grinned a pointed toothy grin. With one long claw, he punched out a response:
I will attend. Just give me a moment to procure some transportation.
-The Steel
As he was guided into the chamber, Thorne's smile shrank to merely friendly, and he kowtowed to the Warlord of the Io Imperium.
"I will waste no words," he hissed. "I can get you a good chunk of this rock. All I ask in return is passage back to Earth and the assurance that if I scratch your back, you will scratch mine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It buzzed in the skull of Princess Tiki as she entered the Great City moments before the Hordes. Since she lacked the capacity for typing, hers was a pre-typed mental call to order, humming in the front of her skull like a honeybee. Her mind slowed into the common tongue, sent forth her response:
Attend will. Sky-Flyer find first.
-The Flame
The Hordes swept into the city behind her, gathering whatever weapons they could find as they swooped forth, taking up arms against their new foes: the Amarthi. Tiki scanned the group carefully, taking in one Hordesman after another, waiting patiently for one leaner, taller, and with a larger head to dart past. Then, as she found her quarry, she whipped forth her tail and captured the creature, holding it in front of her head.
"YOOOOOOOOOU! PILOOOOOOOT!" she howled. The Hordesman stood strangely resolute, even while under capture. "NEED GO SAAAAAAAAAANCTUM! MAKE SKY-FLYER GOOOOOOOO!"
As she put the Hordesman down, Tiki followed the creature to the north dock and the waiting Hodre-piloted vessel therein. She would take off shortly after the Dominion vessel parted the sky.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Bone-Cave was quiet--the Imperial forces were apparently not arriving anytime soon. The Meteorapolitans fired upon the Amarthi who wandered nearby via the murder-holes they had carved in the side of the building, felling the creatures before they could detect the scent of meat from within the structure. At the far end of the room, near the computer console, King Darian I of Creedwater stared intently into his communicator, a look of dismay on his face. He looked out into the group morosely.
"My fellows..." he sighed. "I am called to depart to Earth. The Mystics are convening. But I know that I cannot leave this place, else the Bone-Cave will fall. Therefore, I will remain here, requesting that the convention be..."
"Oh, bloody hell, Highness... you sure are full of yourself."
The group parted as a dark-skinned woman walked toward Darian. Like the King, her face was sharply angular, with a long, protruding nose and pointed ears. Her figure was comely and attired in pink and gold, her shoes large, her red hair tied back in a ponytail. The King nodded slowly.
"Full of myself, perhaps, sister," he said. "But I do not want to see the Bone-Cave fall to the enemy. I do not want to see my people die so that evil may prosper. I do not want to..."
"Oh, shut it, Darian," his sister snapped, smiling. "Who was in charge of military operations in Meteorapolis? Me. You have duties; I can hold the Bone-Cave. I know this city well; you can trust me."
Darian's frown faded to a smile, and he pecked his sister gently on the cheek. “I trust you, Lili,” he said quietly. “And I promise that upon my return, we will have our land back.”
“As you trust me, I don’t doubt you, brother,” Lili replied. “Now get your silly ass out of here and go get us our land back legitimately.”
Darian and Lili exchanged kowtows, and the King of Sanctum took to the wall, climbing to the nearest open hole and jumping outward, gladius drawn. In silent fury he brought his sword through the neck of the nearest Amarthi, cleaving into another that had descended upon him. In a fury of swipes, Darian darted to the nearest black-box-like bus and climbed inside. Closing the door behind him, he began punching into his handheld communicator.
I am certain it is much to your chagrin, Oh Moon, but I will be attending this convention.
Oh Stone, be ready. I will be picking you up on the way.
-The Earth
The final message buzzed into the communicator of The Tempest, who sat high in one of the buildings near the east dock, issuing commands to the troops therein. The soldiers sniped carefully at the approaching Amarthi, aiming for weak points in their natural armor. The Tempest, meanwhile, was silent as he read the message from Mystic Darian, his brows lowered as he punched in a response:
I will be waiting, Oh Earth. It's time to end this.
-The Stone
“Soldiers, I must be off…” he said slowly. “You will be receiving orders from a new commander. Expect word momentarily.”
The soldiers nodded from their position without looking back as Tempest stomped down the building’s stairs and out its front door. The monstrous man had to wait only a moment before the black bus screeched to a halt in front of the building, its door sliding open. Tempest lumbered inside, nodding to its driver, King of Sanctum.
“So it’s finally happened, eh?” the Tempest said as the bus sped off toward the Menelmacari vessel at the east dock.
“So it has,” Darian replies. “The Mystics are convening.”