A Bloodbath Begins
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*DM_Duke
- Posts: 125
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
After a discussion with Namer Davoren and Factotum Maelfina. The Harmonium finally made a very sharp intervention between both parties. For once, even the Anarchists saw a very temporary benefit in having the Hardheads around. They served as a blockade preventing the Red Death from capturing them, giving them time to go underground.
It seems the Hardheads had caught on what was going down with the Red Death fanatacism, tensions between parties arouse and an armistice was reached. The Red Death was forced to allow Citizens to exit the warzone, while inspecting every last one of them to make sure not a single Anarchist escaped the clutch. The Harmonium agree'd to help this penning operation, serving as a makeshift wall to prevent Anarchists escaping without use of the Undersigil networks.
The bridge became a focus point for Mercykiller reinforcements as they flooded into it. Using the Merchant Ward Bridge, The Red Death managed to quickly deploy many troops into the fray...
But their enemy wasnt compleatly unprepaired. A new tactic was divised by the clever Anarchist cells, they started using dead Mercykiller attires to guise as their enemy and attack them from within. Confusion amoungst the ranks lead to even more casualties and even tenser situations. This lead to Mercykillers putting a dead nail into their operations to attack the Anarchists while they began making sure their own ranks were pure of any Corruption.
This baught the Anarchists and neutral parties bountiful time to prepair.
It seems the Hardheads had caught on what was going down with the Red Death fanatacism, tensions between parties arouse and an armistice was reached. The Red Death was forced to allow Citizens to exit the warzone, while inspecting every last one of them to make sure not a single Anarchist escaped the clutch. The Harmonium agree'd to help this penning operation, serving as a makeshift wall to prevent Anarchists escaping without use of the Undersigil networks.
The bridge became a focus point for Mercykiller reinforcements as they flooded into it. Using the Merchant Ward Bridge, The Red Death managed to quickly deploy many troops into the fray...
But their enemy wasnt compleatly unprepaired. A new tactic was divised by the clever Anarchist cells, they started using dead Mercykiller attires to guise as their enemy and attack them from within. Confusion amoungst the ranks lead to even more casualties and even tenser situations. This lead to Mercykillers putting a dead nail into their operations to attack the Anarchists while they began making sure their own ranks were pure of any Corruption.
This baught the Anarchists and neutral parties bountiful time to prepair.
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*Azulfae
- Posts: 238
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Meanwhile on Nishrek...
Two figures paced their way across the surface of Nishrek, the dark skies of Acheron sparkled above them with hundreds of thousands of metal cuboids turning and bumping into each other in the darkness.
From a heavy sprint Vorgazar quickly turned and grabbed Vorgazelle in a tight embrace and the two of them fell hard into a trench, at that second a massive metal cube maybe thirty foot wide pounded down into Nishrek where they were running. The metallic clang was deafening and echoed for miles around.
As the cube rose and floated away back into the dark the two orc bloods sat up from in their little trench. Both covered in iron dust and looking a little worse for wear.
“Fook it!”
“Fook it!”
Echoed from both their mouths in short succession.
A moment to gather themselves and the two started to pace once more towards their destination.
“Is near.” Said Vorgazar
“I know.” Said Vorgazelle
“I know youz know so shut up.” Said Vorgazar.
“Den why youz say dat?” Said Vorgazelle.
“I forgetz okayz!!! Fook sake.”
The two looked at each other with a smirk as they picked up the pace now. Ahead of them a cliff edge approached. The two punched off the edge with their feet still kicking through the air as the dark skies of Acheron opened up before them. Off the edge of the cube they flew out into the darkness. Gravity began to pull them down and as the new face of the cube flew passed and upwards behind them as they fell. Down became forwards and backwards became down and they started to decend towards the cube again.
Both of them leaned forwards screaming with elation as they came downwards and hit the ground running into their tribes own territory. Their running slowed and ahead they could see a small patrol of orcs wearing bulky armours and bearing all manner of large and cumbersome weaponary. A little further beyond, a rough structure sculpted from raw iron served as a simple barricade wall around the top of a crater.
“Noggus!” Shouted Vorgazar as he saw a friend amongst the orcs.
“Hey da, ooh youz bring womanz!” The orcs all perked up to look at Vorgazelle.
Suddenly they all brandished their weapons.
“Is dat a fookin elf?” one said.
“Is look bit like orcish elf…” Said another.
“Shut da fook up!” Said Vorgazar as Vorgazelle knocked one of the orcs unconscious with a single punch.
The orcs all looked at each other, licking tusks and adjusting of cod pieces.
“Gorga won’t like it.” Said Noggus as he turned with the Vorg’s and escorted them to the crater edge.
Down the inside edge of the great crater they passed, orcs all around proving their strength against each other with small brawls and game like tests of strength.
In through a cave entrance they passed and ventured deep into the belly of Nishrek through tunnels with solid iron walls. Eventually they reached the main cave where at the end on a raised dias sat GorgaÂ’s throne. The chief instantly jumped up arms raised.
“HURG! My son is here!”
He marched across the room, mouth wide open in a massive gaping smile and heavy black beard. His tusks long as daggers pointing up near to his eyes, one of which was absent and stitched closed with heavy black thread.
VorgazarÂ’s mother paced up behind Vorgazelle and stroked her hand down the elfish orc womanÂ’s mane of hair. It strangely resembled her own.
She rubbed her fingers over her face examining her looks and became wide eyed in amasement.
“Whut da fook is dat?!”
Gorga pushed Vorgazar aside and waded up to the elven blooded woman.
“Is me.” The two Vorg’s said at exactly the same moment.
Gorga looked confused, his heavy brow suddenly turning fierce, the idea of an elf blooded creature in his presence setting him into a frenzy.
His wife raised her arms across infront of Vorgazelle, somehow she understood this creature was her child. It was not enough to stop the Orc warchief who threw his wife to the ground and took a swipe at Vorgazelle with his axe.
Vorgazelle sidestepped the blow and reached for a ‘strange axe’ upon her back.
“No!” Shouted Vorgazar. “I wants dis for to be real.”
Gorga turned and looked at his son, a look of intrigue on his face. He then looked back to Vorgazelle.
“Her is a copy of me maked into a womanz and wif elf bluud. Maked by dis fookin magic devilz manz in Sigil.”
Gorga stared at Vorgazelle and helped his wife up off the floor. “As long as I da fookin chief youz ain’t bringing no elf in dis place.”
As Gorga turned to Vorgazar, Wallop! VorgazarÂ’s fist hit his father square in the snout. GorgaÂ’s ass hit the floor and bounced once before he came to sit staring up at his eldest son. Vorgazar then opened his hand and dropped a bloody eyeball on the floor at his fathers feet before lifting his eyepatch to show a freshly stitched together pair of eyelids.
At the side of the cave his brothers, Gorgunz, Worgza and their blue skinned, six fingered shaman brother, Mozgul all watched intently along with a good two dozen scattered orcan warriors.
Mozgul nodded with respect to his elder brother as Worgza and Gorgunz picked their noses.
Gorga rose and smirked. “Is about fookin time.” He paced up and put his face snout to snout with his son. “Youz know, is just shame youz turn out to be elf fookin little plane trotta.”
Suddenly the Warchief headbutted Vorgazar in the face and before Vorg could collect his vision the Orc uppercut his son hard into the ceiling. Vorgazar dropped from his fathers knuckles and could barely keep his legs stable but managed to stay up and stumbled back a few paces to recouperate himself.
Gorga drew a large round shield, painted in black with the eye of Gruumsh pictured on it. Vorgazar in turn equipped himself with his Shield and Greataxe, Chuk.
Both orcs lay into each other axe to shield several times neither giving way to the other until GorgaÂ’s axe stuck into VorgazarÂ’s shield hard at which point Vorgazar released hold on the shield and two handed swung his axe right over the top hitting Gorga square in the shoulder. The armour plate of the shoulder split in two and the axe sunk into the flesh beneath spraying blood up gorgaÂ’s neck and over his face.
“RRRROOOOAAAAARRGGHH!!!” Both orcs screamed together.
Gorga kicked the shield off of the end of his axe and dropped his own shield ploughing in hard with a massive sweep of his greataxe. The blade hit the floor as Vorgazar backstepped and backstepped again as the axe came up fast for an upper back cut.
Vorgazar spun to dodge and readied himself. The axe came down again and this time he stepped in grabbing the axe by itÂ’s haft. Before putting the flat of his axe into his father's face.
Gorga simply took the blow and wrapped his fingers around the top of the axe head tearing it out of VorgazarÂ’s hand and tossing it away. Vorgazar pulled his fathers axe down to the ground and stamped on it hard to break his fathers grip leaving the axe on the floor.
The two orcs now disarmed lay into each other with blows of their fists.
Small efforts to block on VorgazarÂ’s part deflected most of GorgaÂ’s wide sweeping blows. His pure orc frame tanked heavily in upper body muscle with a slightly hunched back reduced his flexibility greatly. Vorgazar however was straighter and more agile due to his human blood. He lay into a rapid chain of tight punches central to his fathers chest driving the orc back until the final punch he lay with a left hook across GorgaÂ’s jaw. As the orc fell back Vorgazar booted him in the chest and then ran in quickly to be on top of his falling adversary.
He came down both knees onto the chest, cracking GorgaÂ’s breastplate and pounding his fists both into his fathers face.
He grabbed his fathers long mane of black oily hair and beat his head hard, repeatedly against the dusty iron floor.
All around orcs stared in silence. To see a figure such as Gorga beat down so brutally was almost hypnotic. A warchief of Acheron, one of GruumshÂ’s finest who had lead so many armies against the one eyed god's enemies on countless planar excursions.
Vorgazar wiped his face of blood and looked to Vorgazelle and his mother who were standing nearby. Their mother looked a little nervous, Vorgazelle affectionately patted her on the head. He looked back again to his father who was spitting blood and teeth out onto the floor.
“Fookin does it already.” The warchief commanded.
Vorgazar stared for a moment. His face grew a smile. His father chuckled back through the blood and pain with a faint smile of his own.
“Youz fookin done me a proud.” Said Gorga
Vorgazar rolled off his father onto the floor next to him and lay on his back.
“I need youz.”
Gorga put his hands to his face and sat up clicking his jawbone in place.
“Thank fook for dat.” Said his father as he slapped Vorgazar on the belly and spat out another tooth.
“I ain’t goin to dat fookin Sigil place though, last time I went der dat lady whut her fookin namez toss me in a bluudy maze. Apparently her don’t like a 'real' manz squeezing her boob.”
All the orcs began to laugh.
“Well I da fookin chief nowz and I be squeezing da boobz right.” Vorgazar paused for a moment. “I needz a warparty, not too many so dems gotz to be ard fookerz. Maybe three dozenz. All in best armour wif big choppas. I needs dems not to be fookin tards either. Dems gots to understand whut is da Anarczitz and whut is da Red Defz we fightin and whut is da people who we fightin for.”
I gonna be da king of da hive so da peoples is gots to love me and mine enemies, fear.”
Gorga nodded. “I gots just da bunch for youz.” As he turned and smirked, his remaining eye glazing over black and from behind the stitches of his missing eye broke through small flashes of some evil red energies signalling the approval of Gruumsh.
Two figures paced their way across the surface of Nishrek, the dark skies of Acheron sparkled above them with hundreds of thousands of metal cuboids turning and bumping into each other in the darkness.
From a heavy sprint Vorgazar quickly turned and grabbed Vorgazelle in a tight embrace and the two of them fell hard into a trench, at that second a massive metal cube maybe thirty foot wide pounded down into Nishrek where they were running. The metallic clang was deafening and echoed for miles around.
As the cube rose and floated away back into the dark the two orc bloods sat up from in their little trench. Both covered in iron dust and looking a little worse for wear.
“Fook it!”
“Fook it!”
Echoed from both their mouths in short succession.
A moment to gather themselves and the two started to pace once more towards their destination.
“Is near.” Said Vorgazar
“I know.” Said Vorgazelle
“I know youz know so shut up.” Said Vorgazar.
“Den why youz say dat?” Said Vorgazelle.
“I forgetz okayz!!! Fook sake.”
The two looked at each other with a smirk as they picked up the pace now. Ahead of them a cliff edge approached. The two punched off the edge with their feet still kicking through the air as the dark skies of Acheron opened up before them. Off the edge of the cube they flew out into the darkness. Gravity began to pull them down and as the new face of the cube flew passed and upwards behind them as they fell. Down became forwards and backwards became down and they started to decend towards the cube again.
Both of them leaned forwards screaming with elation as they came downwards and hit the ground running into their tribes own territory. Their running slowed and ahead they could see a small patrol of orcs wearing bulky armours and bearing all manner of large and cumbersome weaponary. A little further beyond, a rough structure sculpted from raw iron served as a simple barricade wall around the top of a crater.
“Noggus!” Shouted Vorgazar as he saw a friend amongst the orcs.
“Hey da, ooh youz bring womanz!” The orcs all perked up to look at Vorgazelle.
Suddenly they all brandished their weapons.
“Is dat a fookin elf?” one said.
“Is look bit like orcish elf…” Said another.
“Shut da fook up!” Said Vorgazar as Vorgazelle knocked one of the orcs unconscious with a single punch.
The orcs all looked at each other, licking tusks and adjusting of cod pieces.
“Gorga won’t like it.” Said Noggus as he turned with the Vorg’s and escorted them to the crater edge.
Down the inside edge of the great crater they passed, orcs all around proving their strength against each other with small brawls and game like tests of strength.
In through a cave entrance they passed and ventured deep into the belly of Nishrek through tunnels with solid iron walls. Eventually they reached the main cave where at the end on a raised dias sat GorgaÂ’s throne. The chief instantly jumped up arms raised.
“HURG! My son is here!”
He marched across the room, mouth wide open in a massive gaping smile and heavy black beard. His tusks long as daggers pointing up near to his eyes, one of which was absent and stitched closed with heavy black thread.
VorgazarÂ’s mother paced up behind Vorgazelle and stroked her hand down the elfish orc womanÂ’s mane of hair. It strangely resembled her own.
She rubbed her fingers over her face examining her looks and became wide eyed in amasement.
“Whut da fook is dat?!”
Gorga pushed Vorgazar aside and waded up to the elven blooded woman.
“Is me.” The two Vorg’s said at exactly the same moment.
Gorga looked confused, his heavy brow suddenly turning fierce, the idea of an elf blooded creature in his presence setting him into a frenzy.
His wife raised her arms across infront of Vorgazelle, somehow she understood this creature was her child. It was not enough to stop the Orc warchief who threw his wife to the ground and took a swipe at Vorgazelle with his axe.
Vorgazelle sidestepped the blow and reached for a ‘strange axe’ upon her back.
“No!” Shouted Vorgazar. “I wants dis for to be real.”
Gorga turned and looked at his son, a look of intrigue on his face. He then looked back to Vorgazelle.
“Her is a copy of me maked into a womanz and wif elf bluud. Maked by dis fookin magic devilz manz in Sigil.”
Gorga stared at Vorgazelle and helped his wife up off the floor. “As long as I da fookin chief youz ain’t bringing no elf in dis place.”
As Gorga turned to Vorgazar, Wallop! VorgazarÂ’s fist hit his father square in the snout. GorgaÂ’s ass hit the floor and bounced once before he came to sit staring up at his eldest son. Vorgazar then opened his hand and dropped a bloody eyeball on the floor at his fathers feet before lifting his eyepatch to show a freshly stitched together pair of eyelids.
At the side of the cave his brothers, Gorgunz, Worgza and their blue skinned, six fingered shaman brother, Mozgul all watched intently along with a good two dozen scattered orcan warriors.
Mozgul nodded with respect to his elder brother as Worgza and Gorgunz picked their noses.
Gorga rose and smirked. “Is about fookin time.” He paced up and put his face snout to snout with his son. “Youz know, is just shame youz turn out to be elf fookin little plane trotta.”
Suddenly the Warchief headbutted Vorgazar in the face and before Vorg could collect his vision the Orc uppercut his son hard into the ceiling. Vorgazar dropped from his fathers knuckles and could barely keep his legs stable but managed to stay up and stumbled back a few paces to recouperate himself.
Gorga drew a large round shield, painted in black with the eye of Gruumsh pictured on it. Vorgazar in turn equipped himself with his Shield and Greataxe, Chuk.
Both orcs lay into each other axe to shield several times neither giving way to the other until GorgaÂ’s axe stuck into VorgazarÂ’s shield hard at which point Vorgazar released hold on the shield and two handed swung his axe right over the top hitting Gorga square in the shoulder. The armour plate of the shoulder split in two and the axe sunk into the flesh beneath spraying blood up gorgaÂ’s neck and over his face.
“RRRROOOOAAAAARRGGHH!!!” Both orcs screamed together.
Gorga kicked the shield off of the end of his axe and dropped his own shield ploughing in hard with a massive sweep of his greataxe. The blade hit the floor as Vorgazar backstepped and backstepped again as the axe came up fast for an upper back cut.
Vorgazar spun to dodge and readied himself. The axe came down again and this time he stepped in grabbing the axe by itÂ’s haft. Before putting the flat of his axe into his father's face.
Gorga simply took the blow and wrapped his fingers around the top of the axe head tearing it out of VorgazarÂ’s hand and tossing it away. Vorgazar pulled his fathers axe down to the ground and stamped on it hard to break his fathers grip leaving the axe on the floor.
The two orcs now disarmed lay into each other with blows of their fists.
Small efforts to block on VorgazarÂ’s part deflected most of GorgaÂ’s wide sweeping blows. His pure orc frame tanked heavily in upper body muscle with a slightly hunched back reduced his flexibility greatly. Vorgazar however was straighter and more agile due to his human blood. He lay into a rapid chain of tight punches central to his fathers chest driving the orc back until the final punch he lay with a left hook across GorgaÂ’s jaw. As the orc fell back Vorgazar booted him in the chest and then ran in quickly to be on top of his falling adversary.
He came down both knees onto the chest, cracking GorgaÂ’s breastplate and pounding his fists both into his fathers face.
He grabbed his fathers long mane of black oily hair and beat his head hard, repeatedly against the dusty iron floor.
All around orcs stared in silence. To see a figure such as Gorga beat down so brutally was almost hypnotic. A warchief of Acheron, one of GruumshÂ’s finest who had lead so many armies against the one eyed god's enemies on countless planar excursions.
Vorgazar wiped his face of blood and looked to Vorgazelle and his mother who were standing nearby. Their mother looked a little nervous, Vorgazelle affectionately patted her on the head. He looked back again to his father who was spitting blood and teeth out onto the floor.
“Fookin does it already.” The warchief commanded.
Vorgazar stared for a moment. His face grew a smile. His father chuckled back through the blood and pain with a faint smile of his own.
“Youz fookin done me a proud.” Said Gorga
Vorgazar rolled off his father onto the floor next to him and lay on his back.
“I need youz.”
Gorga put his hands to his face and sat up clicking his jawbone in place.
“Thank fook for dat.” Said his father as he slapped Vorgazar on the belly and spat out another tooth.
“I ain’t goin to dat fookin Sigil place though, last time I went der dat lady whut her fookin namez toss me in a bluudy maze. Apparently her don’t like a 'real' manz squeezing her boob.”
All the orcs began to laugh.
“Well I da fookin chief nowz and I be squeezing da boobz right.” Vorgazar paused for a moment. “I needz a warparty, not too many so dems gotz to be ard fookerz. Maybe three dozenz. All in best armour wif big choppas. I needs dems not to be fookin tards either. Dems gots to understand whut is da Anarczitz and whut is da Red Defz we fightin and whut is da people who we fightin for.”
I gonna be da king of da hive so da peoples is gots to love me and mine enemies, fear.”
Gorga nodded. “I gots just da bunch for youz.” As he turned and smirked, his remaining eye glazing over black and from behind the stitches of his missing eye broke through small flashes of some evil red energies signalling the approval of Gruumsh.
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*Svord
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
In the Hive, close to the bridge over to the Bazaar, lies an mansion, who's owner has driven back those who would be looters, mostly Anarchists who attempt such a thing are simply given a beating or those barmy enough, are not seen again.
Mercykillers, however, are rarely seen afterwards, those who are, have no heads to speak of.
In his house, the man ponders on the pointlessness of the current situation, and he sighs, this whole conflict simply an amusing theatre for grander beings, and he keeps pondering, fiddling with his ale, thinking and thinking. .
Mercykillers, however, are rarely seen afterwards, those who are, have no heads to speak of.
In his house, the man ponders on the pointlessness of the current situation, and he sighs, this whole conflict simply an amusing theatre for grander beings, and he keeps pondering, fiddling with his ale, thinking and thinking. .
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*Pashan01
- Posts: 304
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The petite elf in blue tunic had raced to gather her things as the brothel building looked as though it was about to go up in flames, looking to the little stove dejectedly before quitting the room. She dumped her things to safe corner outside before dashing into the tattoo parlour and scrambling to snatch as many tomes, drawings, sketchings and tracings as she could, instruments and ink bottles from the shelves before the parlour too succumbed to the burning.
The remaining harlots and jinkskirts, some with babies tucked and crying to their hovels and makeshift shelters, looked up terrified at her as she passed by. She paused by afew of them, familiar faces all, feeling partially responsible for their welfare and made motion with her free hand that was not holding magical bag for them to gather their belongings and flee. She pointed in the direction of the lady's ward route and motioned them to make haste. They, like she, cared not for this displacement, having known only this neighbourhood as home for so long but it was being torn apart and there was no choice for the present.
She had not thought she would have ever acted to support orcish action but had seen them come out of Nishrek as if to protect their own home or entrance to it and there was small measure of understanding of that to allow her to put aside her distaste of them as she supported their fists in the street battle.
There was little more she could do for the street girls at this point, it was time to leave. They all cowered for a moment as one burning roof collapsed nearby, then Lyra padded off quickly to rejoin her lover.
She met up again with the other elf and finally allowed him to show her to their new temporary abode in the Lady's Ward with her Sovana.
But this was not to be the end of it...
The remaining harlots and jinkskirts, some with babies tucked and crying to their hovels and makeshift shelters, looked up terrified at her as she passed by. She paused by afew of them, familiar faces all, feeling partially responsible for their welfare and made motion with her free hand that was not holding magical bag for them to gather their belongings and flee. She pointed in the direction of the lady's ward route and motioned them to make haste. They, like she, cared not for this displacement, having known only this neighbourhood as home for so long but it was being torn apart and there was no choice for the present.
She had not thought she would have ever acted to support orcish action but had seen them come out of Nishrek as if to protect their own home or entrance to it and there was small measure of understanding of that to allow her to put aside her distaste of them as she supported their fists in the street battle.
There was little more she could do for the street girls at this point, it was time to leave. They all cowered for a moment as one burning roof collapsed nearby, then Lyra padded off quickly to rejoin her lover.
She met up again with the other elf and finally allowed him to show her to their new temporary abode in the Lady's Ward with her Sovana.
But this was not to be the end of it...
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*Light
- Posts: 18
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The elf would aid in the quick moving of what few possessions they both truly called their own. He was no less displeased than she. In truth the notion of the orc warband gave the elf a reason to smile grimly. He truly hoped that if any fools wished to continue fighting, they would meet there fate at the hands of the orcs.
The elf paused at that. How wickedly peculiar life can be if he could ever find himself hoping for an orcish intervention. The elf would shake his head and hurry to finish what he and the other elf needed to before retreating from the Hive for now.
The elf paused at that. How wickedly peculiar life can be if he could ever find himself hoping for an orcish intervention. The elf would shake his head and hurry to finish what he and the other elf needed to before retreating from the Hive for now.
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*Azulfae
- Posts: 238
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Word spreads that Vorgazar had told the harmonium that a small but elite number of well trained orcan warriors, three dozen, would be erupting through the Nishrek portal soon.
His threat, All Anarcists and Red death out of the Hive by the time they arrive or their bodies will line the streets stripped naked and steaked from ass to mouth, alive if possible.
His promise, the people will have their hive back.
The Vorg's are seen highly active around the Nishrek portal.
They don't appear to take any crap either.
One such display is of a mercykiller and an anarchist nailed to each other at the wrists and ankles, alive and screaming they are left to crawl together around the hive both begging for help to un pin them from each other.
Strangely no soul appears to help them, perhaps due to lack of compassion or fear of what might happen.
Whenever the nishrek portal is opened terrible chanting is heard through it as the first of the warforce begin to camp on the other side.
His threat, All Anarcists and Red death out of the Hive by the time they arrive or their bodies will line the streets stripped naked and steaked from ass to mouth, alive if possible.
His promise, the people will have their hive back.
The Vorg's are seen highly active around the Nishrek portal.
They don't appear to take any crap either.
One such display is of a mercykiller and an anarchist nailed to each other at the wrists and ankles, alive and screaming they are left to crawl together around the hive both begging for help to un pin them from each other.
Strangely no soul appears to help them, perhaps due to lack of compassion or fear of what might happen.
Whenever the nishrek portal is opened terrible chanting is heard through it as the first of the warforce begin to camp on the other side.
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*Light
- Posts: 18
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The elf would take to the shadowed paths once admitted to the hive on reasons of wishing to watch for would-be looters of whatever remained of the parlor or his quarters. That is if he was questioned by the Harmonium.
Whatever the case would be, once inside he would take to the shadowed paths out of necessity as now more than ever before, the hive was truly a dangerous place to walk openly.
If his companion joined him it was only after she had taken measures to gain access quietly and likely unnoticed. They would watch for those whom sought to break the tenuous armistice as it were. For now he held a silent, shadowy vigil.
He would have observed the orcish presence from afar. No need to involve himself with that which they were well equipped to handle. Readied, watchful, and ever patient he was...
Whatever the case would be, once inside he would take to the shadowed paths out of necessity as now more than ever before, the hive was truly a dangerous place to walk openly.
If his companion joined him it was only after she had taken measures to gain access quietly and likely unnoticed. They would watch for those whom sought to break the tenuous armistice as it were. For now he held a silent, shadowy vigil.
He would have observed the orcish presence from afar. No need to involve himself with that which they were well equipped to handle. Readied, watchful, and ever patient he was...
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*Darkrob
- Posts: 1097
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
As far as Phoenix and his supporters were concerned... The Orc would be ignored. Other, more powerful beings, would deal with invaders from beyond the cage...Azulfae,Dec 1 2010 wrote: His threat, All Anarcists and Red death out of the Hive by the time they arrive or their bodies will line the streets stripped naked and steaked from ass to mouth, alive if possible.
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*Xndar
- Posts: 282
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
*A few of the smaller healing and aid stations, unprotected by the Harmonium deep in the Ward suddenly find themselves protected by a handful of grim, tough-looking soldierly types covered from head to toe in blue and black armor; many with horned helms. The guards only remove their weapons from their sheaths at dire need, in conformity with the law, but its clear even to the most clueless berk that their weapons are of incredibly high quality indeed and that they mean business. The leaders of each squad inform the Godsmen or Athar operating the stations that Mistress Maelfina Sixthfinger offers both protection and aid to those moving patients to more secure areas for treatment.
The black and blue troops then proceed to guard convoys of the wounded into the more stable areas of the Hive, not seeming to bother any that don't bother them. Those Anarch sufficiently foolish to attack find them more than willing to beat and capture those they can in order to haul them to their grisly fates at the hands of the Mercykillers. If any rogue Red Death have run afoul these convoys, none have reported it.*
The black and blue troops then proceed to guard convoys of the wounded into the more stable areas of the Hive, not seeming to bother any that don't bother them. Those Anarch sufficiently foolish to attack find them more than willing to beat and capture those they can in order to haul them to their grisly fates at the hands of the Mercykillers. If any rogue Red Death have run afoul these convoys, none have reported it.*