Jenrak
19-12-2006, 23:39
Fires raged above the last Aslamaduun, as the last of the fleets of the Totalian empire engaged against the final threat. Massive swarms of new breeds of dangerous technology had placed itself as probes years ago, though it was not long before a threat had shown itself. Swarms of giant fleets with beeping eyes and swathing knives had shown in Totalian space many years ago, and it plunged the Mechinus and Totalians into the brink of a three way war, a war where trust had no meaning. While the Mechinus fought against the Totalians, the Totalians faced a two front war against the dangerous enemies, the Harvesters. Now, above Aslamaduun, after brutal decades of warring against each other, the last stand of the Mechinus fleet paid homage to their once masters, the fallen Totalians. Totalius himself laid in a silver coffin, his body drenched of power and his corpse nothing more, his lifeless form a name only.
He still carried his thin fingers upon his thin mask, his rasping no more, for his pain was undone, and so was his life. His laid upon the planet of Aslamaduun, the final capital of the Mechinus empire, as their armies and their massive fleets stayed as one against the numerically superior Harvesters. Every single planet had fallen, save for this beacon, this last ray of hope upon the steel shoulders of the machine empire. Embedded into the capital leader, he watched every single possible movement of the Harvester fleet – vast, teeming with advanced technologies far beyond their own, and their cannons readied as bursts of heavenly engulfed the sensors. The computer reacted accordingly.
Within nanoseconds of the enemy fire, a shield was placed up by the Mechinus stationeries, their fleets moving fast to intercept and the defend as they capital ships lobbed shells of burning plasma against their foes, but it made no difference as another ray of enemy fire tore their shields apart, their rain of plasma spraying around against them. It was an eerie battle, one of silence, one of a cold, calm, calculating, ebbing throb of discontent, a battle of a mute death. Mechanized drones and fighters fled out in droves against the Harvesters, as darkened beasts flung their blades, slashing against enemy fire through their shields, drenching themselves in a trance of fuchsia brilliance. Roars were not heard, yet they continued their drenching fight.
Enemy fire upon the Mechinus side was intensifying, Mechinus capital ships blasted apart, their shreds torn and collected, swarms of insect-like beasts grappling and tearing the once thick armour apart into pieces, churning out more and more and more, fighters and enemy beasts. Their long, clawed fingers against their thin and wiry skin, beady eyes and throbbing tongues flashed as the space between them and the ships began to turn to rubble, shrapnel floating as a metal cage in space. The Mechinus were dearly losing.
Upon the grounds of the final Mechinus Castle, within its metal hearth, lies the last of the Totalian and Mechinus – their death was an objective with no other form of compromise.
As the Harvester strike squad rushed across the steel gardens, the large obelisk of the Mechinus showed themselves, their gloomy eyes and their crushing stare flashing brightly, their fingers intent on doom and their turrets whirring for any sight of danger or destruction. However, this was not the case amongst the obsidian needle, as the initial EMP bombardment allowed no more than the whirring of the Mechinus elite troops and the creeping strike squad. From one of the strike members, a pale, white faced being with a pair of skeletal fingers, he looked as his blade was held firmly on his back.
“Let us go.” He commanded, as his small group of assassins followed suit into the opened, frozen door of the tall structure. Within entrance, it was hell. Blood and bones and machines and gears splattered across the floor and walls, the place quiet as the throbbing booms outside were now nothing, the small sounds of whirring flickering with the small and unused motors, gears clicking as the elevator at the end of the room carried off into eternity. “Continue.” He ordered, pushing up the long, lancing entrance to the twisted elevator, as it closed and flashed up, stopping abruptly before a darkened corridor came about them.
“Spread out.” He said, walking calmly amongst the darkened hallway, admiring the precision of the machines, their architectural designs, his fingers clicking with the gears underneath his sinew. “Come.” He said quietly, rushing forwards as his squad continued to the end, a small door that opened up to a library. It was dark, it was quiet, but it was a silence that was careful and dangerous, almost deliberate, as if carefully crafted. No assumptions were made, however, when at the pale figure’s side ran to open the door, before a steel swath slashed him apart from the shadows, a blackened and robed figure grudgingly flashing out steel as the pale man blocked it with ease.
“Show yourself.” He commanded, before a slash came from behind, once more easily blocked, but another kick dealt to his jaw sent him flying towards the small piles of books, blood torrentially splashing out of his squad as the shadowed figure left the pale man left, his sword drawn.
Lights were vibrant and splashing in a distinct ray, crosses of flashing, burning metal daring to taste hot flesh, before a splash of blackened blood trifled the air with a horrid stench amidst the books. The shadowed beast fell in a heap, before the door opened silently to another cavernous room, a sitting figure. He was a tall, lanky form of a monster, his left hand holding a small orb as his right hand held a giant mace, his face covered by a skeletal helm, his shoulders covered in a brisk of steel and his fingers thin and grotesque. From the side of his jaw, a long, swirling tongue gaped out in a small slither of saliva, before disappearing back into the black abyss.
With a swift movement, he spun into action, his mace crashing down upon the location of the pale man, before the pale man lunged back with a slash, but was easily blocked, before a pummelling fist crushed his left shoulder, blood bursting out in droves. The pale man groaned before swinging his blade up, kicking into his leg harshly before slipping on the pile of blood on the floor. “King Hezh, you will fall this day.” The pale man ordered, before slashing on the king’s armour, but his fist smashed the sharp blade back, the sword singing as the pale man dodged the enemy’s swipe once more.
Another flash of steel, before the pale man plunged his hand into the mask, the warmth of blood evident, before a splash of amber liquid gushed out, the enemy mace fallen and the helm of bones limp. The Mechinus king was dead. Adorning his bloodied crown atop his hairless head, the pale man nodded as his steel fingers were tapping with delight. The war was over.
He was the Lord of Harvesters.
OOC: This is my lacklustre and mediocre FT return.
He still carried his thin fingers upon his thin mask, his rasping no more, for his pain was undone, and so was his life. His laid upon the planet of Aslamaduun, the final capital of the Mechinus empire, as their armies and their massive fleets stayed as one against the numerically superior Harvesters. Every single planet had fallen, save for this beacon, this last ray of hope upon the steel shoulders of the machine empire. Embedded into the capital leader, he watched every single possible movement of the Harvester fleet – vast, teeming with advanced technologies far beyond their own, and their cannons readied as bursts of heavenly engulfed the sensors. The computer reacted accordingly.
Within nanoseconds of the enemy fire, a shield was placed up by the Mechinus stationeries, their fleets moving fast to intercept and the defend as they capital ships lobbed shells of burning plasma against their foes, but it made no difference as another ray of enemy fire tore their shields apart, their rain of plasma spraying around against them. It was an eerie battle, one of silence, one of a cold, calm, calculating, ebbing throb of discontent, a battle of a mute death. Mechanized drones and fighters fled out in droves against the Harvesters, as darkened beasts flung their blades, slashing against enemy fire through their shields, drenching themselves in a trance of fuchsia brilliance. Roars were not heard, yet they continued their drenching fight.
Enemy fire upon the Mechinus side was intensifying, Mechinus capital ships blasted apart, their shreds torn and collected, swarms of insect-like beasts grappling and tearing the once thick armour apart into pieces, churning out more and more and more, fighters and enemy beasts. Their long, clawed fingers against their thin and wiry skin, beady eyes and throbbing tongues flashed as the space between them and the ships began to turn to rubble, shrapnel floating as a metal cage in space. The Mechinus were dearly losing.
Upon the grounds of the final Mechinus Castle, within its metal hearth, lies the last of the Totalian and Mechinus – their death was an objective with no other form of compromise.
As the Harvester strike squad rushed across the steel gardens, the large obelisk of the Mechinus showed themselves, their gloomy eyes and their crushing stare flashing brightly, their fingers intent on doom and their turrets whirring for any sight of danger or destruction. However, this was not the case amongst the obsidian needle, as the initial EMP bombardment allowed no more than the whirring of the Mechinus elite troops and the creeping strike squad. From one of the strike members, a pale, white faced being with a pair of skeletal fingers, he looked as his blade was held firmly on his back.
“Let us go.” He commanded, as his small group of assassins followed suit into the opened, frozen door of the tall structure. Within entrance, it was hell. Blood and bones and machines and gears splattered across the floor and walls, the place quiet as the throbbing booms outside were now nothing, the small sounds of whirring flickering with the small and unused motors, gears clicking as the elevator at the end of the room carried off into eternity. “Continue.” He ordered, pushing up the long, lancing entrance to the twisted elevator, as it closed and flashed up, stopping abruptly before a darkened corridor came about them.
“Spread out.” He said, walking calmly amongst the darkened hallway, admiring the precision of the machines, their architectural designs, his fingers clicking with the gears underneath his sinew. “Come.” He said quietly, rushing forwards as his squad continued to the end, a small door that opened up to a library. It was dark, it was quiet, but it was a silence that was careful and dangerous, almost deliberate, as if carefully crafted. No assumptions were made, however, when at the pale figure’s side ran to open the door, before a steel swath slashed him apart from the shadows, a blackened and robed figure grudgingly flashing out steel as the pale man blocked it with ease.
“Show yourself.” He commanded, before a slash came from behind, once more easily blocked, but another kick dealt to his jaw sent him flying towards the small piles of books, blood torrentially splashing out of his squad as the shadowed figure left the pale man left, his sword drawn.
Lights were vibrant and splashing in a distinct ray, crosses of flashing, burning metal daring to taste hot flesh, before a splash of blackened blood trifled the air with a horrid stench amidst the books. The shadowed beast fell in a heap, before the door opened silently to another cavernous room, a sitting figure. He was a tall, lanky form of a monster, his left hand holding a small orb as his right hand held a giant mace, his face covered by a skeletal helm, his shoulders covered in a brisk of steel and his fingers thin and grotesque. From the side of his jaw, a long, swirling tongue gaped out in a small slither of saliva, before disappearing back into the black abyss.
With a swift movement, he spun into action, his mace crashing down upon the location of the pale man, before the pale man lunged back with a slash, but was easily blocked, before a pummelling fist crushed his left shoulder, blood bursting out in droves. The pale man groaned before swinging his blade up, kicking into his leg harshly before slipping on the pile of blood on the floor. “King Hezh, you will fall this day.” The pale man ordered, before slashing on the king’s armour, but his fist smashed the sharp blade back, the sword singing as the pale man dodged the enemy’s swipe once more.
Another flash of steel, before the pale man plunged his hand into the mask, the warmth of blood evident, before a splash of amber liquid gushed out, the enemy mace fallen and the helm of bones limp. The Mechinus king was dead. Adorning his bloodied crown atop his hairless head, the pale man nodded as his steel fingers were tapping with delight. The war was over.
He was the Lord of Harvesters.
OOC: This is my lacklustre and mediocre FT return.