Lords of Rock

Setting

A Rock Hard Land for Rock Hard Men.

The Rockaverse

The Land of Plenty

Minimap

The Rockaverse is a part of Lords of Rock.

11 Characters Here

Syra Onnet [88] A thrall who seeks more from life.
Captain Ash [20] A man gone wild, either by lust, by wars, or by the desert sun. Or maybe he's just clinically insane.
M'Kama [14] Life and death, two sides of the same coin. With that in mind, he crafts his own luck.
Mathis Gladys45 [6] New
Neko stacy [6] I am sweet and loving, i protect and comfort
londy [6]
lauraine [4] Today most of the people from all over the world are using the internet from different devices like PC, Laptop or smartphone etc.The internet has given birth to many online crimes, known as cyber-crimes, created by expert hackers. As each and every detail
Radio Box [2] Buying Guide & Reviews Portal

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"I know what our common ground is..." M'Kama began, clothed once more as he walked into the room. "It's called the Rock. The planet we all currently reside on. The same planet that won't exist anymore once The Matran scorched the Earth in search of their weapon. And thus...we give it back before that happens."

Arubak ignored Tuberculosis Tom, a former employee of his who owed him money. Not being a part of Arubak's entourage, he had no reason to be there and thus as he was intruding, Climbs-the-Stars immediately shoved him out a window to his death.

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#, as written by Nulix
Tuberculosis Tom frowned as Climbs-the-Stars grabbed him. "I just wanted to move on up in the organization!" He exclaimed as they opened the window and threw him out. He landed in a pile of ant manure, severely worsening his tuberculosis.

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"I don't understand, M'Kama," Otis said, frowning. "Who are you trying to protect? The cannibals? The warlords and their armies? Those they oppress?" Otis snorted. "If you really cared about the people on this planet, you'd have done something about it. You certainly have the strength for it. But you haven't, and you won't."

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"I'll forgive your shortsightedness seeing as you're a child, but here's the gist of things...." M'Kama began. "You're an outsider and you don't know shit. You come here and all you see is a horrible land overrun by Warlord's and enslaved peoples. It is a land filled with plenty of people, just trying to get by. There are farmers here. Simple workers. Caretakers of the sick and the dead..." M'Kama stood up and slammed his hands upon the table. "...and you would bring war to them. The wrath of the stars. All so you can play hero!"

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"Just because I wasn't born here doesn't mean I don't know wrong when I see it!" Otis snapped back. "You can talk big all you want about wanting people to avoid suffering, but you've blinded yourself to the evil the people of the Rock are already drowning in. Or perhaps you simply don't care. The status quo you're so desperately trying to protect is killing thousands of people each year! Forgive me if I don't find that ideal."

Otis pointed at M'Kama, his eyes fiery. "I don't think the reason you want to avoid the Matran's forces arriving here has anything to do with the people of the Rock, M'Kama. I don't know what your real reason is, but if you actually cared about the people here, you would be doing something. Actions speak louder than words, M'Kama, and all I've seen from your actions is apathy."

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"You're reckless and you'll get many innocents killed. You think it simple to take on the Warlords," M'Kama laughed. "Even with a gun that'd be foolish. The powers that be stand where they are now because they have nothing to fear from idealistic children. Even those with weapons of death," the shaman continued.

"The Rock breeds the strong. One day wrongs will be righted. But not this way. You think it's people so weak that they only can be saved by your great scheme to save us all? No," M'Kama sat down and shook his head. "Waving around a gun is only branding us with a target. You bring new enemies to our skies while you try to topple the old. What will you do when your dreadnought descend down upon a township and wipe it off the face of the planet? What's your justification, then?""

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"Would you honestly throw away a gun in the middle of a gunfight?" Ash asked dryly.

"That's the situation we find ourselves in. Imagine, if you will, we're a poor, helpless bystander who has wandered into a very busy alley. In front of us is a man holding a gun. We don't know much about him, or his intentions, but we know he's holding a gun. On the ground in front of us is a gun, smaller than his, but still capable of killing. In the shadows behind him and above are other figures, obscured by shadow. They're most likely enemies of the man in front of us, but are they also enemies to us? Do they too have guns? And on top of this all, running up behind us is a crowd of deranged men holding knives, clubs, swords, etc. The one thing tying all of us in the alley together is that gun. That gun will help decide who makes it out of the alley dead or alive."

The Captain paused as he took another sip of water, his throat a little dry from the evening, and the talking. "M'Kama, Seru, all of you. I understand exactly how this will go down with the Matran. They're an empire, just like Sorillia, and as someone who fought for Sorillia, I know how brutal, cutthroat, and inhuman these empires are, and the people who lead them. Sorillia invaded this planet before this gun even existed, never mind landed on the planet. And it took the Oblivion Crisis for us to bother leaving it. If a man holding a gun wants to rob you, and you give him the gun you're holding, then he's absolutely going to shoot you, rob you, and laugh over your corpse. The gun is dangerous, and it certainly is a target, but giving it to someone who is already thinking of robbing you is signing your own death warrant."

Ash let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his right temple slightly, feeling a little soreness bloom there, possibly from the drinks earlier. "Yes, dangerous and a target, but there are tactics and strategies that can be employed to maximize it's usefulness. To us, to the innocent people of The Rock, to the whole galaxy itself. And not only that, but unless someone else can make more of these bullets, we control 50% of the most powerful weapon in the galaxy. Those are some pretty good odds." The Captain smirked to himself.

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Syra entered the room as M'Kama and Otis stopped their argument, only paused by Ash's speech. She had to admit he made some valid points, however, the Cannon was dangerous. No one power or person should control it, but destroying it would only incur the wrath of the manufacturing party. Giving it back was likely signing a death warrant, if not for the Rock, for some other hapless world. Syra knew many of the other planets in the same system as The Rock were overrun with large, violent creatures and hidden tribes of Phoenix that had settled there shortly after finding a way to harness their powers into a space-faring culture. They certainly couldn't convince The Matran to simply destroy the cannon themselves.

"There isn't going to be an answer to this or a solution that will make anyone happy. The world is forever changed by that cannon's existence," She shook her head slowly, "Whether or not that ship was meant to crash here, is always going to be a mystery if it wasn't, then where was that ship's final destination supposed to be? Again, we will never know because the party responsible for that weapon will never fully admit to creating it, as it would likely violate whatever treaty exists between the systems now. Creating a weapon of such destruction would be seen as an act of war, and would only cause an arms race, and a galactic war not unlike the one that ended twelve years ago," She looked around to each person in turn, "No one will come to claim the weapon directly, it will always be some group pretending to be some band of raiders or belonging to a Warlord's army, and those Warlords will fight because that canon would mean nearly absolute power, a world ruled by fear and likely a mad tyrant. There really is no winning here, nor is anyone losing, instead we have entered a new era, an era of fear. Even those with no ill will towards the people of The Rock would be feared simply for controlling such a weapon. Who can blame them? After what happened to Shittle, its amazing we haven't seen more people trying to claim it for their own." She looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

"The point is, no matter what we decide to do here, people will be unhappy and we may be no safer than we are right now from an attack by the Matran or Ulfire, or even Longbao. What we decide won't suddenly stop people like Theory from trying to get their hands on the cannon. No, we alone control the cannon rounds and know where and who is watching over the weapon itself. If we could study it, find its origin, maybe we can find a way to destroy it, and all the research that went into creating such a thing." She felt her cheeks flush as she finished speaking, her own idea now out for all to hear sounded stupid and impossible once her brain had caught up to her.

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"You both make good points," Otis said, leaning back and lowering his eyes from M'Kama. "The mere existence of the weapon is enough to create havoc among the balance the warlords have struck. We've already seen Theory move against it, and Zambob and his holy army have undoubtedly mobilized as well. The Cobran wish to claim the weapon, and what if we deny Seru this? Will Cobran mobilize their own force?"

Otis looked at M'Kama. "Even if we were inclined to return the weapon to the Matran, as Syra and Ash agree, the Matran would simply take the weapon and kill everyone on the planet to cover up the incident. Perhaps if this were another planet that would not be the case, but no political power cares about the Rock. No one will think twice if it suddenly becomes... void of life."

"My intent, Syra, is to destroy the weapon," Otis finished, his eyes narrowing. "But only after I've used it as bait to draw out the warlords."

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"So, if I am correct in my understanding of this, you do not wish to return the gun in order to avoid the Matran slaughtering many on the Rock to cover their tracks, but instead want to START A WAR using that same gun, thus gathering attention from Sor, who will, in turn, slaughter many on the Rock in addition to those you've already gotten slain in order to cover up their tracks," M'Kama recounted.

"That's truly brilliant. I can honestly say, I've never heard anything like it," The shaman clapped at Otis. He then pointed at Syra. "Before you leave this room and get kidnapped again, know that the Matran is not the only foreign presence on the Rock. How any rich patrons do you believe are just that and not spies keeping tabs on business rivals and illegal imports. I guarantee you, if this rumor has spread as fast as I fear it has, The Warlords aren't the only power we need to worry about trying to get ahold of this weapon."

Finally he turned to Ash. "It's only the most powerful weapon on the Galaxy...that you know of. A warrior could wield the most powerful weapon in the world and still be felled by a dozen or so assailants as equally skilled as he. A couple of fools with a powerful gun and half-baked ideas won't save any world....but they certainly will doom one."

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Otis opened his mouth, probably to say something extremely angry, but Falcon's voice interrupted him as she entered the room. She was dressed similarly to how she had met Arubak, although the hood was thrown back, revealing her silver hair. Her mask remained, and a slight smile still creased her lips.

"This is getting quite entertaining after all," Falcon said, stepping around the table to stand behind Otis. Otis' bird chirped and flitted up onto Falcon's fingers, and she lifted it up, studying the small white sparrow with her eyes. "I was concerned I would be bored."

"M'Kama, your gamble is that the Matran won't simply destroy this planet after retrieving the cannon," Falcon said, retaining her small smile that seemed completely natural. "I believe that this gamble is in your favor. Not very many retain any holdings on the Rock, especially after the war... and those who do are not politically powerful. Were any to attempt to use the knowledge of the cannon for their own personal benefit, I suspect that they would simply... disappear." Falcon's smile grew. "A point to which they themselves are welcome to gamble."

Falcon looked at Otis. "Your plan, Otis, although brave, is, as M'Kama suggested, not well thought-out. I understand your frustration, but the forces at work here on the Rock are too much even for a will such as yours. You cannot force a man to drink, even if he is dying of thirst. Think on that." Otis looked down, stung by the woman's words, his cheeks flushed.

Falcon's eyes returned to M'Kama. "I wish to hear more of your plan, M'Kama. Perhaps as you tell it, it will convince the others more than your derogation."

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Syra fumed at M'Kama's comment, she hadn't been against him so why was he so quick to attack her? Before she could reply, a silver-haired woman walked in and began giing her own two cents. She asked M'Kama to continue while Otis, whom she seemed somehow connected to, looked down at his hands, clearly flustered by her calling out his bold, albeit, half-cocked plan.

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"Woah, Imma let you speak in a moment M'Kama, but I do want to correct something first," Horik spoke up as she placed a vial on the table. As the others had argued, she had seemed very disinterested in all of it. She nodded when M'Kama had suggested they give the cannon back but seemed almost resentful when Otis had suggested an alternative. Back slouched, eyes roaming, Horik almost seemed like she hadn't been paying attention.

uNTIL Falcon busted in and mentioned the Matran.

Horik cleared her throat and looked up, noticing a few curious eyes look from her to the vial. Though she suspected the curiosity was a result of the snake venom incident Mild had mentioned when she had been interrogated.

"I wouldn't say the ones with holdings aren't high up on the political ladder," Horik cautioned. "Now, I'm not one for rumors but there's been whispers that the famous Argent has some stakes here. There's nothing definitive about it though but if he does, you bet he may pull some strings to keep this place whole."

"Which is a good thing because there seems to be a change in the environment," Horik said as she tapped the vial before her. It was filled with thick, white mucous. "This is from the current worm we have."

"And this," she said as she pulled out another vial which was full of a clear white but still thick liquid. "Is from a normal worm. I think we need to avoid a war as much as possible or we could lose a potential scientific breakthrough."

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"So we avoid war then."

A faint clicking of a lighter could be heard on the other side of the room. Seru held a cigar between her lips, lighting it with both hands and then tucking it into her coat pocket, "Look, I ain't gonna repeat myself. I want the gun to stay in Cobran, 'cause that's where it'll be safest. That's just a fact. Cobran ain't no army, we ain't fighters, Otis," she glanced to the boy, "We ain't gonna mobilize forces. My town is filled with the very people you're tryna protect, M'Kama," her eyes shot to the shaman, "Farmers. Families. Children. Thralls," she looked at Syra and the witches thralls, "Former thralls, that is. Yeah we have some soldiers, but we're a goddamn mountain town. We live in a bleedin' rock on The Rock! We're just tryna make a livin', but it's gettin' harder with all this war around us. Cobran is making a lotta enemies, you see. As soon as someone gets them hands on that gun and those bullets..."

Seru was silent for a moment. She looked around the room and let out a puff of thick smoke, "We're one of the first to die. Now, sure, I could go with M'Kama and gamble with the offworlders, give 'em the gun and the bullets and be done with it. But they weren't s'posed to be here, yeah? That girl, the - the captain or whatever, the one in Cobran? She told me they weren't s'posed to be there. Weird orders or somethin'. Let's say we roll over for the Matran, give 'em back their weapon and wave goodbye. Then they kill us, as y'all have mentioned it is a high possibility. Sure we have that er...Argent fella on our side, maybe. How long has he been off the Rock? Fact is we know too much," she shrugged, "Then comes another war that we can't win."

"Now now," Seru raised her hands to M'Kama, whom she knew was about to interject, "I ain't gonna let Otis fight the whole goddamn Rock. I don't want that target on mine or Cobran's head. Bad publicity 'n all that. That's why I'm sayin' we get these bullets, get that gun and haul it all over to Cobran. It'll be safe there - no one goes to the Bright unless they have to. We'll keep it underground away from prying eyes, and y'all can decide what you wanna do from there," the woman tapped her cigar and let ash fall to the floor, "Figure out a way to destroy it if you want. Maybe give it back to the Matran if you feel like gamblin'. Either way we will have the upper hand. If them offworlders come to take it by force, well, we got a big fucking gun don't we? We negotiate. That's if they even give a damn that it's gone. If any other warlord tries to take it from Cobran...well, we got a Big. Fucking. Gun. Ain't gonna happen, chief."

Seru let in a long drag of her cigar and let it sit for a moment before slowly exhaling and letting a long ribbon of smoke curl from her lips, "Either way, we avoid war as much as possible. No need to fight if we don't have to. Give it to the Matran or whatever, if y'all really believe they ain't gonna kill us then it sure ain't my problem. I'm just tryna protect my town. In the meantime it should stay in Cobran for safekeeping, 'cause it's the only place on the Rock that can damn well hide it 'n not use it."

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At Falcon' arrival, Arubak, who had been conversing quietly with his own group as they listened in, freezes up a bit as Caenna and Climbs-the-Stars immediately aimed their rifles at the intruders. "I'm just about gettin' tired of you.." Arubak snarled, gritting his teeth.

"You know her...?" Caenna asked Arubak. "Whatcha want us to do?

"....Nothin'," Arubak noted after a moment. "Not until I say so anyway," he sighed, pinching his nose. "Wait until we see what she's gotta say first."

"It's filled with some people of the Rock," M'Kama sighed addressing Seru first, his arms folded in irritation. "I suppose to you, the entire planet consists of Cobran and only Cobran? Listen here, there are many towns, many people who will suffer as long as this gun remains here. Many will search for it and many will not do so kindly..."

M'Kama shook his head, "You'll hide it amongst your people so they can endure while the rest of the Rock suffers. My people are not of Cobran. Many towns and farmstead and villages are not of Cobran. Not to mention, even the foolishness of trying to covertly move a giant gun across a desert without someone noticing."

He then turned to look at Falcon. The same mysterious woman from earlier. Arubak seemed to know her as well. M'Kama glanced at her and shrugged, "Thank you for the vote of confidence. It isn't simply a matter of just handing The Matran the gun and it's bullets. Alliances will have to be forged. Negotiations would ensue. This place alone has many people with ties to The Matran. Governmental ties, business ties...some, believe it or not, are also spread across the Rock."

"Baoans, Longbaoans, the Vench, if they haven't find out about the gun already, they will soon...and will likely want to claim it as their own. We learn more about the gun, what it can do, what it was meant for, we cover our tracks, we forge connections with these dissparate people and we have something to bribe the Matran with. Knowledge of their secret weapon and threats to bless others with such knowledge," M'Kama explained.

"It's not as simple as it sounds, but nothing ever is," M'Kama stated. "There's still, of course, the matter of hiding the gun as well. I have a solution to that...also complicated, but very interesting."

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#, as written by Nulix
It had started as nothing. No more than what a drink or two would do. But then, the world had begun to stretch. Blacksun's lounge had begun to bend with the music- the music, it sounded incredible, it sounded like no music had before. Qunith could no longer feel their body, the only hint of sensation in the veins of their teeth. Their tongue slathered over their teeth as the music shifted- a million thoughts racing through their mind, as if time had slowed- a minute lasting an hour, but as quick as the thoughts and the emotions that came with them entered their mind a new one came to replace it.

On a pile of cushions they lay collapsed, holding their head. Talideth was still standing, though barely- and several other rich men of the Holy Land lay beside them. The music was all consuming. "Your lips look like canyons," Qunith said as they fixated on the ridges of Blacksun's mouth. "I feel like could be flying above the clouds- I couldn't fucking, pilot a ship, a Sorillian ship, I'd get them all killed- I'd get them all killed. I could be a... a coal boy, an underling, not a captain." Qunith looked up at Blacksun, tears in their eyes as the man's pupils shrunk. "I'm a fucking wreck, I am. I know I am a holy... I am a divine... I can serve. When I lead people die, people die. I'm not like you- gods, your lips look like canyons."

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"It doesn't sound simple at all," Otis said to M'Kama, grimacing. "But you know what? We all can see the problems with each other's plans, so maybe we should just pick one and all agree that whatever plan we pick, we go through with it. Because there's no other way we're going to come to an agreement on this."

"And how do you propose to do that? Pull a note out of a hat?" Falcon asked, covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed.

"Who are you anyway?" Otis asked angrily. "What are you even doing here?"

"Oh, my apologies," Falcon said, still chuckling. "You can call me Falcon. I've been watching your group since you faced the Waste Witch... and you have me to thank for pulling you out of that pit."

"That was... you?" Otis asked, looking shocked. "I uh..."

"Don't worry about it," Falcon said, waving her hand. "But I do believe you are correct in that it seems impossible for all of you to reach an agreement. None of you think much of the next person's plan, and each of you are quite correct in the possible value or danger of the cannon. So what comes next? Will you, as Otis suggested, calmly agree? Or will this turn bloody?" Falcon smiled. "This is the Rock after all. Blood on the sands is no rare sight."

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"You lecture the boy about being idealistic, yet you're tryna save the whole damn Rock?" Seru laughed at M'Kama, "The Rock don't give two shits about you or anyone else. It's every man for himself. Of course I ain't gonna try 'n save the very people that want me 'n my family to die. Fuck them. I'm realistic, Shaman, 'n you're a damn fool for tryna save the thieves, rapists and murders of this world."

Seru stared at the Falcon, "And who said I was gonna help? I'm here for Cobran. If y'all decide to walk up to the Matran and give em back their weapon then I ain't sticken around long enough to see y'all burn. Cobran and I will find our own way, as we've always done."

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#, as written by Nulix
It was a cool night- the desert looking calm but hitting with hard whips of cold wind. Down in the town it would be alright but up here, on the wall you felt the full force of the wind. It was a quiet night as Ventram patrolled along the battlements. His thoughts in his own head. His love was gone. His room, when he returned from patrol, would be empty.

Hair covered his eyes as the wind rushed. He didn't wear a hat- it would fly off on the wall. Embers flew toward him as he passed by a pyre, one of many lit along the wall, keeping the patrol route safe. He could vaguely see the outline of the next guard at a pyre down the row of battlements, but for the most part, he was alone. Alone here, under the stars.

They glistened clear as a wall of jewels in a mine. He knew these constellations like the back of his hand but never thought what would be there. What worlds rotated those stars- he'd been living here, in the Holy Land, for far too long. Perhaps on those other worlds there was someone with whom he could be happy.

These were not thoughts most on the Rock had. He'd just seen a lot of ships- despite having never been on one. Ventram stopped beside a pyre and leaned out on the battlements. He mouthed the names of the constellations down toward the horizon- until he spotted something that blocked the stars out.

A long, black barrel stretching high into the sky on the westward horizon. Ventram squinted at the shadow before pulling out the spyglass from his waist. He extended it until he could see the shape. A piece of artillery on wheels, drawn by dozens of ants, and beside it rode what looked like an army- leading it a group of soldiers, not on ant ant-back, but horse. Ventram lowered his spyglass. "That's... a big gun."

***

There was a small prattle on the door of the meeting room. After a moment one of Arubak's soldiers stepped in, bundled up with a scarf and a secured hat. He bowed at his boss before wiping down his whiskers. "Boss..." The guard began. "We got company- outside the wall."

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"This better damn well be important," Arubak sighed. "Alright, spit it out."

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#, as written by Nulix
"We got an army of about two-hundred men," The guard replied. "With a piece of artillery. A big gun. They're from Sanctuary but they're got with 'em some... offworlders." The guard blinked. "Said they wanted to speak to you." He paused. "All of you."

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"Interesting," Falcon murmured.

"Gal and Girthfield are probably with them," Otis said, rising to his feet. "It should be fine."

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"Shit..." Arubak frowned. "Shit...." he repeated. "Go back put there and tell 'em we'll be out shortly! ...Oh and...get the snipers at the ready!" he ordered the guard. He glanced over at the others, "If you would please, meet us outside. I hate to interrupt these talks, 'specially when I ain't made up my own mind yet, but I ain't two accustomed to havin' armies match out against my city."

Arubak stood up and his seat and pointed at two of his cohorts. "I'm goin' on up ahead. Mild, Kuchillo....yer with me!" he stated, stepping out of the room and marching downstairs on his way to the front gates.

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#, as written by Nulix
The gates of the Holy Land creaked open- from it the Arubak, Mild and Kuchillo rode forward on ant-back. And following them, the lords of rock. Seru, M'kama, Otis, Horik, Syra, and Ash- all on their own steeds.

Ahead of them a flat line of riders stood, Rockians stretched out over the dunes. In the centre of the line formation stood the cannon- King Horocrat's Sceptre, stretching high above all of them, taller than the wall of the Holy Land itself. On one side sat familiar faces to some of them there- Girthfield, Gal and Zambob each on an ant themselves. But it was not them who were riding forward to meet Arubak- instead it was silver plated soldiers on striding horses, not ants.

A dozen or so Knights. The systems had arrived.

"Hello!" The Tryptian called out from the helm of the horse formation. "Hello!"

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Arubak winced as he looked at a Knight with a helmet labeled, 'Born2Kill,' and narrowed his eyes. "Howdy," he nodded. "Can, I help you folk? We might have rooms for everyone, just about....probably gonna have to leave your big canon behind, I'm sorry to say."