Introduction
The world as humanity knew it was of war, rape, murder, pestilence and disease. A series of devastating maladies compounded; the human genome had begun to break down from the last critical epidemic of 2525 . After millennia of mutations and genetic disorders--the human DNA sequence, the code for all human life was irrevocably damaged. In a last ditch effort to stall for time for a cure, humans turned to gene therapy and gene splicing.
This futile attempt only stalled the progression of the breakdown. The cure for the disease came five years later, however nearly half of the entire world's population perished. With the break down on a cellular level, people began the long, agonizing decent into death looking dead; deathly white skin, unless the corrosion struck the liver then a noticeable jaundice onset. Dark circles that looked more like black eyes and contusions. Hemtomas would 'sprout' over the body, painful protrusions as the accelerated breakdown flared cancer cells into over producing even more.
A breakthrough cure came in 2531 under the code name "Icarus" A new synthetic drug that manipulated the chromosomes and secured human prevalence once again. At first, the drug worked wonders. It cured every natural disease man had faced up to that point. But like the man that flew with wax wings and got to the sun--everything went terribly wrong.
Seven years. Seven long, painful years and the world would change forever. the drug that humankind sough to liberate themselves from a disease that--biologically had sundered them, was now the choice weapon of their downfall. Utilizing "dead" strains of some of the more viral plagues that were tearing human civilization apart and combining them to ward off the effects of active live strains yielded surprising effects. The live strains broke down chromosomes, the chemical make-up of any given human being. With an endless array of outcomes; sterilization, rapid onset of leprosy, blindness, deafness, anorexia, and the ever increasing chance of having the all--the diseases became known as Azrael Syndrome. Because of the human depiction of the Angel of Death as a hooded skeletal figure--patients exhibiting this contagious plague often looked appeared dead long before their suffering engulfed them.
Entire colonies were set up to shelter them, burn the bodies when they died--sometimes in the masses--and experiment on to find a way to combat this Syndrome. Icarus combated this infection by consistently mutating the chromosomes on a regular basis so it could not be destroyed via blood. Once entered into the blood stream, it changed the nature of AS and did not full on combat it. Within years strange side effects of the Icarus became apparent. Within the seven year progression strange, brutal attacks began occurring where victims were torn apart--and eaten. It wasn't until the world saw what was happening to the population that had been immunized from AS did it stand still in absolute horror.
The constant adaptation to the disease left what remained of the populations scattered across the world mutated or unfazed. Half the remains world's population experienced one of two mutations. One mutation was that subjects had a massive increase in muscle density and a could contract muscle tissue far more than a human ever could. The comparable strength was twice that of an adult silver back gorilla. Capable of flipping, even lifting sedan sized vehicles, ripping steel doors off their frames and even breaking steel reinforced cables. They also exhibited a highly dense hide, very resistant to bullets and shrapnel. These had a a decrease in mental functioning, with warmongering as a strong mental urge. The need to fight is very prevalent in these mutations. Their skin is a dull grey, they are highly muscular, and their eyes are like polished obsidian and hair a stark white. This are nicknamed "Oroc"
The second and completely differing mutation is a more agile, slimmer and highly intelligent being. They had a massive increase in brain activity. They have made quite a few advancements in technology, including but not limited to human-cybernetic attachments capable of combating Oroc. However, as agile and intelligent as they are, they seem to be quite frail. Having hollow bones that allow them swift movement, this is counter-productive as they cannot withstand even the abuse of a normal human would be capable of. These are called the Silvian.
The landscape of the world has changed much during the times of the plagues. The continents have since shifted and rejoined to make a super-continent now called "Toril". Less in scale to Pangaea millions of years ago, it still combines most of Europe, North and South America, and Africa as well as the core of Russia. The earthen™s surface is ruled by the Oroc, the skies by the Amaranth and the subterranean by humanity. Humankind has found ways to combat the Oroc, albeit, not everyone applies. Human and Amaranth technologies have culminated in high strength, high performance robotic prosthesis. An expensive and painful procedure, usually only dedicated soldiers have been voted to endure at their request.
The Oroc have overrun the surface. Their cannibalistic and volatile natures make them a threat at all times. However, due to their incredibly durable skin as well as their redundant organ systems, they are incredibly hard to kill. On noted occasions of one Berserker Oroc took out two squads, fourteen men in total by itself while sustaining multiple gunshot wounds. Their bones and skin are incredulously dense, acting like a biological "bulletproof vest". Even shots to the head, unless by a heavy caliber tipped with depleted uranium cores have stopped these beasts. The Kommandos, technologically enhanced soldiers with grafted augments have been noted to be capable of one fights with the Oroc and survived.
The Amaranth seem to want nothing to do with the surface dwellers, hiding in floating citadels with their machines, high above the cloud cover. However, on occasion, they will trade with the humans. The Oroc having a keen taste for Amaranth flesh. The only connection with them is via hologram. However, something has changed the Oroc's behavior recently; decisive and seemingly tactful maneuvers--things that the typical Oroc or its hierarchy hadn't displayed before has become a new threat to humanity and the Amaranth.
A "Duke" that goes by Cain has developed a highly receptive sense of reasoning. He was a capable of taking the rule over the Oroc hierarchical society and maintains his intelligence. However this does not mean he can be simply persuaded. He has recently taken down an Amaranth citadel, a near impossible feat beforehand and forced the city's leader to ransom its people or his daughter. The city voted unanimously to give Cain their city's leader's daughter. Cain plans on making a principality with his new bride...a concept that invokes disgust and terror for all...
Cain is an ambitious, impatient but strong-willed character. He is tough, endurable but no invincible no matter his accolades. While it might seem inconceivable at times that he can be killed--it will merely prove to be down to the actions of a few to save the lives of thousands or down to one--who, put before her people to wed Cain--must decide rather she will help in killing him or come to understand and even love him. The choice is up to you.
NPC's
The Oroc
- Regular
- Height 8'0-9'5 feet
- Weight 325lbs-435lbs
- Build Durable
- Evolved State First Stage
- Typical Weaponry Swords, clubs, can and will pick up guns from dead humans; scavenger.
The Regulars are the basic "grunt" of the Oroc, they are the De-evolved--evolution to human beings, but aren't quite Beserkers and definitely not Titans. They make up the backbone of the Oroc party and roam through out the Lost Cities freely on the top soil above the humans. They are three times the size of your typical human, even with the growth hormone introduced to the human genome. Their skin is the same grayish subterranean mute color as well. However, unlike your typical Drone, Regulars are laden with protrusive pustules that a are porous and form a kind chitinous exoskeletal-armor. These are actually callouses that have formed an almost rock hard layer of hardened skin. These form over a course of several days and is not instantaneous. These have been known to be so hard, that they can literally with stand fifty caliber sniper rounds traveling at 852 meters a second. Even head shots, if the growth covers their head. This is not without incident however, the growths once attached to the muscle mass contracts slightly making it moderately harder for them to move.
- Berserker:
- Height 13ft
- Weight 3,000-4,000
- Build Heavy
- Evolved State Second Stage
- Weapons
When compared to one of these nightmares, Regulars are a walk in the park. Like the Regulars, they have a highly adaptive skin. They are black, usually armored--war painted and set loose. They are too dangerous to fight alone especially when frenzied. They smell Silvians like sharks smell blood so they will home in Amaranth's and Silvians. They stand 13 feet tall, can rip street lights out of concrete embedded emplacements and lift small cars. They can be provoked very easily and once frenzied they don't care what's in their way they will kill it or die trying. They can only be used but once per squad because their frenzy once started--can not be stopped until they die either by their own kinds hands or their enemies. Do not let their size fool you, they can rampage; running at 35 m.p.h- Titan:
- Height 25 ft
- Weight 14 tonnes
- Build Ultra
- Evolved State Third Stage
- Weapons Bare hands, street posts, telephone poles, heavy vehicles, Swords, Hammers, Clubs.
Titans are thankfully uncommon, but they do exist in numbers. They, like Beserkers share a mutative gene as they were once Regulars. But surviving so many battles, they progressively have gotten more enormous. Call it natural selection at its worst. They are 25 feet tall, and cause the most havoc when they are heavily clad in armor scavenged from the buildings of the lost cities. They wield weapons of large, cumbersome designs; clubs, swords, hammers--typically things that can cause tremendous crushing damage. While not dangerous for one person, the only single being that's taken one these out himself was Cain, that's why he's called Hathell, "Bane". Because he's dangerous to own selective breed as he is to the humans and Silvians
On hatching, a gold dragon’s scales are dark yellow with golden metallic flecks.The flecks get larger as the dragon matures until, at the adult stage, the scales are completely golden. Gold dragons’ faces are bewhiskered and sagacious; as they age, their pupils fade until the eyes resemble pools of molten gold. 
(aka "shield dragons") are the second most powerful of the metallic dragons, and are true friends to all. The silver dragon enjoys the company of humans and elves so much that it will often take the form of a human or elf and live among them for the majority of its life. It should be noted that silvers, like all dragons, believe themselves the most superior creatures in the world. However, apart from the ability to fly, which they enjoy greatly, they tend to prefer the physical forms of humanoids for everyday life. 
The small scales of a wyrmling red dragon are a bright glossy scarlet, making the dragon easily spotted by predators and hunters, so it stays underground and does not venture outside until it is more able to take care of itself. Toward the end of young age, the scales turn a deeper red, and the glossy texture is replaced by a smooth, dull finish. As the dragon grows older, the scales become large, thick, and as strong as metal. The neck frill and wings are an ash blue or purple-gray toward the edges, becoming darker with age. The pupils of a red dragon fade as it ages; the oldest red dragons have eyes that resemble molten lava orbs. 
A blue dragon’s scales vary in color from an iridescent azure to a deep indigo, polished to a glossy finish by blowing desert sands. The size of its scales increases little as the dragon ages, although they do become thicker and harder. Its hide tends to hum and crackle faintly with built-up static electricity. These effects intensify when the dragon is angry or about to attack, giving off an odor of ozone and sand. Their vibrant color makes blue dragons easy to spot in barren desert surroundings. However, they often burrow into the sand so only part of their heads are exposed.
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Chapter 1:An Epic Age
3 Years Prior to War of Cries
The Titan lifted his arm to Cain who stood in clear defiance; throwing back it's colossal limb, its hand coiled tightly around the hilt of fifteen foot long blade the breadth of which stretched of a nearby skyscraper. The steel blade, crude in its construction--simply an elongated piece of sharpened and jagged steel girder implemented into a cross guard fashioned simply machined bodies of cars compressed and flattened out and welded together. Overall, it was a poorly constructed weapon, but a weapon it was nonetheless.
As the gargantuan being brought his arm down to smash the much smaller Cain who stood in only loin cloth that covered his lowered body but bared his muscular build to the world-- to sunder the plane on which they actively fought--Orocs crossing Orocs would be indiscriminately crushed beneath the sheer weight and girth of the weapon as it plowed through the open street. Cain, having sprinted away from the area of impact--climbed over hurdles of concrete ruins and steel skeletons of buildings and cars alike.
The length of the Titan's sword swept to the side faster than anticipated--catching Cain at his side like a swatted fly he perforated through a solid marble edifice on one side and out another. Wildly flipping, he allowed his body to remain limp even as he 'bounced' off several cars before borrowing into the asphalt. After a few minutes the dust cleared to reveal Cain pushing himself into a crouched posture; knees bent and arms overlapping them with his knuckles dragging the dust that was formally tar and sediment.
His flesh had been peeled like a fruit, the skin torn away from the muscle beneath. However, something remarkable occurred as he twisted head slowly to the right. The skin began reattaching itself back to the surface of the sinew and stood up just as the Titan turned and pressed its hands to the facade of the hotel tower and pressed harder forward to topple it. The solid steel and glass construction began the lurch imminently towards Cain who stood still as the tower groaned whilst steel braces buckled and its foundation snapped like bones.
The building collapsed under its own weight and sheer volume. Cain had dashed forwards, leaping up with a powerful spring to his step and landed into the falling building. The downwards spiral worked against him but he would not, could not be stopped as he raced towards the other side. Arm stretched outwards, his hand caught the steel exoskeleton of the building shell as he sprung out the opposite window he had come in from. The metal bent backwards with his weight and own physical exertion. The dilapidated construction twisted before breaking apart.
Free falling, he impaled the unprotected foot of the Titan, with the equivalent of a knife. The beam, jagged and rusted went through the flesh of the behemoth. It groaned loudly and dropped its weapon of choice while it tentatively went to approach the source of its pain that also had pinned it to the ground. Stepping back Cain observed his adversary. Turning his head, he glanced over at the remnants of re-bar reinforcement. Stepping with deliberate intention over to the underpinning he gripped two bars of disproportionate sizes and twisted them until they broke off.
Flipping the metal rods in his hands in a calculated manner, he suddenly charged the Goliath; feet beating the pavement as he ran faster. The tendons and muscle shifting beneath his stone gray skin. He leapt up from a distance, catching the knee joint of the being before him. The titan was attempting to pry the proverbial nail out of its foot. But Cain had wedged it tightly. Swatting at Cain as he attempted to scale its body, Cain narrowly avoided the mammoth hand the beset him on all sides. To the Titan, Cain would be that bothersome bee that couldn't be swatted away.
Running up to the top of its head, the giant looked up just as Cain drove the spears into its eyes; harrowing was the sight of gore as the soft vulnerable tissues were torn and once more, Cain hung on by the the jagged pieces of steel shards.The creature gave an out cry of pain before toppling backwards, collapsing into a nearby building and leveling it and several others as it sprawled. Cain drove the metal pieces furthermore into the retinas permanently blinding it if hadn't already. The creature writhed at his feet as Cain was now standing atop it, whimpering it gave him what he wanted--control.
Withing moments, thousands of thoughts--millions spawned lucrative propaganda inside his mind. He was now the central focal point of the Oroc mind. Cain had what he wanted, but there was no room in his rule for the weak tearing out the metal rods, let the creature clutch its face as he descended to its throat. He stared down at the pale gray flesh, his own species. He knew how best to deal with them How best to use them, and how best to kill them. He then drove both spears into the jugular vein, past the rock hard skin that no small arms fire could perforate he did with his bare hands. P{lunging them well past the point of entry so it could not simply pull them out again, he had embedded them deep in the throat of the beast until it gurgled its last and he was covered in carmine liquids.
Blank, onyx eyes stared the creature as its life faded from existence. He decided, it was the more fortunate of the two. It didn't have to starve nor cannibalize its own any longer. The fight was just beginning for Cain. He now had millions of voices crying out in hunger and only a select few places the feed a modest number. Commanding them to eat the Titan as he leapt off its now limp body, the garnered support began savagely ripping chunks of flesh off the creature that was formally their Overlord. Looking back at them, Cain realized--if he didn't do anything soon--they would be doomed....
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Adam pulled back the bolt from the ejection port on the assault rifle, loading the next magazine into the rifle and cocking the next round into the chamber. The barrel still steamed from the last expenditure of rounds; the buzz-saw bayonet rested just behind his fingers. He peered over the edge of the trench, little moved in the dust of the buildings that lay beyond. Everything had been chaotic; men screaming, Orocs roaring. Bullets had been whizzing by his head just moments prior from his squad-mates. These bastards were hard to kill. Their skin was like reactive armor.
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As the yellow sun stretched over the horizon, it gave welcome to the hushed, drowsy forest below it. An occasional chirp or caw broke the silence that hung like a fog over the canopy. Morning dew glistened along the trees like tiny stars. A relative peace hung over the wild.
Deep within the forest, a single deer grazed in a small clearing. Great antlers soared from its head; dark brown like the bark. Every few seconds it glanced up to ensure its safety from the blood-thirsty predators lurking in the shadows. Content of its wellbeing, it returned to its breakfast.
Silence.
Twang.
Thud.
A single wooden shaft protruded from the chest of the beast. Almost instantaneously, with only a low grunt followed by a whimper, the deer collapsed into a heap. A solitary stream of blood flooded steadily from around the base of the arrow – marking the only sign of injury.
There was a rustle of leaves, and a shadow moved. Out from behind a bush, about 20 yards away, emerged the figure of a man clad in leather and animal skins. A darkened leather tunic covered his torso while leggings and boots clothed his legs. His upper arms were bear, revealing well defined arms covered in scars and hair. Thick leather gloves went up to the middle of his forearms. His right hand gripped a compound bow, painted in a camouflage pattern with green and brown. A dark green wool cloak and hood shrouded his face. Thick, long, coal black facial hair went down to the bottom of his neck. Strapped to his back was a large pack with several other small bags tied to the side. Tied to a belt on his waist was a sheathed Bowie knife. Leaves, twigs, and other brush covered his clothing, making it appear to be more of a ghillie suit.
He strode toward his kill with both speed and stealth. His feet virtually floated across the ground, creating little if any noise. The man kept a careful watch on his surroundings as he approached the body. Kneeling beside it, he began examining the wound his arrow made.
Straight between the ribs. Through the heart and lungs. Clean and instant. Now to get to work…
With a short tug he pulled out the arrow. It was a simple wooden one made for a quick death blow while hunting; essentially just a sharp stick with bird feathers. After cleaning it briefly in the grass, he stuck it in a quiver strapped to his back. With that he gripped the antlers of the animal and dragged it into the brush…
Deep within the forest, a single deer grazed in a small clearing. Great antlers soared from its head; dark brown like the bark. Every few seconds it glanced up to ensure its safety from the blood-thirsty predators lurking in the shadows. Content of its wellbeing, it returned to its breakfast.
Silence.
Twang.
Thud.
A single wooden shaft protruded from the chest of the beast. Almost instantaneously, with only a low grunt followed by a whimper, the deer collapsed into a heap. A solitary stream of blood flooded steadily from around the base of the arrow – marking the only sign of injury.
There was a rustle of leaves, and a shadow moved. Out from behind a bush, about 20 yards away, emerged the figure of a man clad in leather and animal skins. A darkened leather tunic covered his torso while leggings and boots clothed his legs. His upper arms were bear, revealing well defined arms covered in scars and hair. Thick leather gloves went up to the middle of his forearms. His right hand gripped a compound bow, painted in a camouflage pattern with green and brown. A dark green wool cloak and hood shrouded his face. Thick, long, coal black facial hair went down to the bottom of his neck. Strapped to his back was a large pack with several other small bags tied to the side. Tied to a belt on his waist was a sheathed Bowie knife. Leaves, twigs, and other brush covered his clothing, making it appear to be more of a ghillie suit.
He strode toward his kill with both speed and stealth. His feet virtually floated across the ground, creating little if any noise. The man kept a careful watch on his surroundings as he approached the body. Kneeling beside it, he began examining the wound his arrow made.
Straight between the ribs. Through the heart and lungs. Clean and instant. Now to get to work…
With a short tug he pulled out the arrow. It was a simple wooden one made for a quick death blow while hunting; essentially just a sharp stick with bird feathers. After cleaning it briefly in the grass, he stuck it in a quiver strapped to his back. With that he gripped the antlers of the animal and dragged it into the brush…
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Breathe in, breathe out she kept repeating in her mind as she steadied her hand between the limb of her bow and the steel, feathered end of her arrow, with great ease she raised her bow up. Her arrow was now at eye level, making it easier to point out her target. Her sleek, slender fingers grasped tightly against her weapon of choice. She took a slow steady breath in and held it as she pulled her arrow back against the string. WOOSH! Her arrow released into the air and raced towards the target with great velocity. She raised her head up a little bit as she watched her arrow fly right where she wanted it to go, in the middle of the target board.
She smiled as she felt she had just won over the world with this one shot alone. Her leather clad feet walked towards the target board as she pulled out her prized arrow. "This arrow is a winner." She thought to herself. She placed her arrow back into her leather pouch, that was hanging off her backside. She continued forward walking around the target board, swiftly but softly against the grass. She looked up at the sky with a deep expression painted across her face.
-Flash Back-
"Not like that my little Levy," her mother spoke in a sweet, instructive tone. Her mother rose her bow up, as her arrow when to eye level, Levy watched with great admiration. "Mommy I want to shoot the arrow this time! I know I can do it." "You must learn the ways of your bow and arrow before you can learn how to shoot it." Her mother lowered her bow and knelt before her. "Mommy why don't believe in me?" "I believe in you with all my heart and never forget that." She gently laid her lips against little Levy's forehead as the memory began to fade.
-End of Flash Back-
"Those were good times. I was a little to hasty but I am so glad that I learned to be patient," She said to herself. She was known to hold out a very heavy conversation with herself. Some people said she had a great imagination and she let it get the best of her sometimes and others said she was just outright crazy. She didn't care one bit because she knew she was unique as well did her mother and not a day went by without her mother expressing that. She a had great love for her mother and she had honored her a great deal, as well. She approached her doorway as had finished her thought processed. She had entered to only see her mother sitting down by the window entranced by a book, she smiled.
She smiled as she felt she had just won over the world with this one shot alone. Her leather clad feet walked towards the target board as she pulled out her prized arrow. "This arrow is a winner." She thought to herself. She placed her arrow back into her leather pouch, that was hanging off her backside. She continued forward walking around the target board, swiftly but softly against the grass. She looked up at the sky with a deep expression painted across her face.
-Flash Back-
"Not like that my little Levy," her mother spoke in a sweet, instructive tone. Her mother rose her bow up, as her arrow when to eye level, Levy watched with great admiration. "Mommy I want to shoot the arrow this time! I know I can do it." "You must learn the ways of your bow and arrow before you can learn how to shoot it." Her mother lowered her bow and knelt before her. "Mommy why don't believe in me?" "I believe in you with all my heart and never forget that." She gently laid her lips against little Levy's forehead as the memory began to fade.
-End of Flash Back-
"Those were good times. I was a little to hasty but I am so glad that I learned to be patient," She said to herself. She was known to hold out a very heavy conversation with herself. Some people said she had a great imagination and she let it get the best of her sometimes and others said she was just outright crazy. She didn't care one bit because she knew she was unique as well did her mother and not a day went by without her mother expressing that. She a had great love for her mother and she had honored her a great deal, as well. She approached her doorway as had finished her thought processed. She had entered to only see her mother sitting down by the window entranced by a book, she smiled.
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Leaping over a rather large pile of rubble, Alexander came to a sliding stop behind a destroyed truck. The once metal coating was gone now, replaced by rust and disintegration. It provided little cover support for him, but he wasn't planning on staying in that spot for long. Just long enough to pull a second magazine out of his vest pocket and load into his rifle. Once that was taken care of, he took a quick peek out from behind his faulty shield. Things had finally died down. What was a bloody rampage only seconds ago had turned into a graveyard. "Damn it." Not too far from his position, Alexander could spot the outlines of one of the beasts. It wasn't moving, simply standing and staring at something. Perhaps it was distracted by another Oroc. But the soldier's eye never caught sight of a second figure. For whatever reason it was there, Alexander knew he didn't have a whole lot of time.
"SN-1 to Command requesting extra fire power down near the old library. One hostile, possibly alone." He spoke in a hushed voice, directing his tone to the headset positioned on his ear. "Repeat, SN-1 to Command, requesting extra hell fire. One hostile spotted, temporarily stationary." While communication directly between soldiers and headquarters was easy to establish, it was waiting for a response that seemed to drag out. Alexander knew he wasn't going to be getting any support for quite some time. He hesitated, thinking if it'd be best to run or wait it out. The Oroc could leave after a moment or two. Or, it could come closer to him, and pick up his sent. If that happened, he'd be in for one hell of a time. Reaching up to his headset, he tapped a small button, changing the broadcast length to anyone nearby. "SN-1 held up near the old library. I've got an Oroc here who's stuck in some kinda daze. Anyone close enough, report back. Copy?"
"SN-1 to Command requesting extra fire power down near the old library. One hostile, possibly alone." He spoke in a hushed voice, directing his tone to the headset positioned on his ear. "Repeat, SN-1 to Command, requesting extra hell fire. One hostile spotted, temporarily stationary." While communication directly between soldiers and headquarters was easy to establish, it was waiting for a response that seemed to drag out. Alexander knew he wasn't going to be getting any support for quite some time. He hesitated, thinking if it'd be best to run or wait it out. The Oroc could leave after a moment or two. Or, it could come closer to him, and pick up his sent. If that happened, he'd be in for one hell of a time. Reaching up to his headset, he tapped a small button, changing the broadcast length to anyone nearby. "SN-1 held up near the old library. I've got an Oroc here who's stuck in some kinda daze. Anyone close enough, report back. Copy?"
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Only about 6 blocks away, Dimitri was doing what he does, and that is pilot his mech. He observed the environment, just generally looking for anything of interest, but didn't really find anything. He was unaware of what was happening just a few short blocks away, until a broadcast came over his radio. "SN-1 held up near the old library. I've got an Oroc here who's stuck in some kinda daze. Anyone close enough, report back. Copy?" "Oh, hey, that's.. uh..." He thought for a moment, snapping his fingers, until he remembered, "Oh, yeah! That's Alexander." He pondered for a moment about what could possibly be so bad about a single Oroc, before remembering that they could grow to be several stories high. If there was one that tall, however... he thought to himself, scanning the skyline and surrounding buildnigs, I would have detected it.
Deciding that it was important enough, Dimitri reached up and pressed a button on his headset to tune into the transmitted frequency, responding. "I hear you, SN-1. This is Dimitri. Pinging your location." He pinged Alexander's location on his HUD, then input the coordinates into his Mech. His Mech turned to proceed to the targeted location, and quickly rushed off.
At about a block away, Dimitri commanded his Mech to stop, then got out, a small blaster in his hand. He decided to confirm the current happenings before bringing the Mech in, just in case it was any variation of a 'delicate situation.' He re-checked Alexander's location on his map before making his way to said location, trying to keep his head down. He made note that he could see an Oroc nearby while approaching Alexander's location, which made him rather angry. He tried to subdue his anger, and was successful, before getting to Alexander without being seen by the Oroc, and he quietly said, "Hey, what's up, Alex? You called for some help?"
Deciding that it was important enough, Dimitri reached up and pressed a button on his headset to tune into the transmitted frequency, responding. "I hear you, SN-1. This is Dimitri. Pinging your location." He pinged Alexander's location on his HUD, then input the coordinates into his Mech. His Mech turned to proceed to the targeted location, and quickly rushed off.
At about a block away, Dimitri commanded his Mech to stop, then got out, a small blaster in his hand. He decided to confirm the current happenings before bringing the Mech in, just in case it was any variation of a 'delicate situation.' He re-checked Alexander's location on his map before making his way to said location, trying to keep his head down. He made note that he could see an Oroc nearby while approaching Alexander's location, which made him rather angry. He tried to subdue his anger, and was successful, before getting to Alexander without being seen by the Oroc, and he quietly said, "Hey, what's up, Alex? You called for some help?"
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John sat silently high in a tree within the canopy. The young hermit blended near seamlessly with the foliage. Tied to the branch he sat upon was a thick vine that traced even higher into the trees. Following the vine led one’s eyes over another branch and finally several feet below the man near the forest floor. Dangling from the vine was a severed deer leg, still dripping with fresh blood, just out of the way of a wide worn path in the brush.
It was not simply any game trail however. This was a path frequently used by solitary Oroc patrols. Nine years of hunting deer, birds, and other critters was long enough. Now it was time for bigger game, but John knew he simply couldn’t shoot an arrow through its heart. The abominations’ hides were too thick for that. He needed another approach.
Rule number one: Attack your enemy’s weaknesses while nullifying his strengths.
The Oroc’s strength was fairly obvious… Strength itself and its thick skin. Its weakness was easy to spot as well. As far as he could tell, not even the smarter Orocs would even bother questioning the presence of a random deer leg hanging from a vine in the middle of the woods… That took care of their weakness. Now he only needed to test the limits of their strength.
John placed his hand on the vine and waited.
Come on now you mindless dogs… I command you to jump.
It was not simply any game trail however. This was a path frequently used by solitary Oroc patrols. Nine years of hunting deer, birds, and other critters was long enough. Now it was time for bigger game, but John knew he simply couldn’t shoot an arrow through its heart. The abominations’ hides were too thick for that. He needed another approach.
Rule number one: Attack your enemy’s weaknesses while nullifying his strengths.
The Oroc’s strength was fairly obvious… Strength itself and its thick skin. Its weakness was easy to spot as well. As far as he could tell, not even the smarter Orocs would even bother questioning the presence of a random deer leg hanging from a vine in the middle of the woods… That took care of their weakness. Now he only needed to test the limits of their strength.
John placed his hand on the vine and waited.
Come on now you mindless dogs… I command you to jump.
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Ivan Nevron
The rain pelted the ground and surrounding leaves of the dense jungle. A lone Oroc made his way through the trees, the sounds of his movements the only thing loud enough to penetrate the soft roar of many splashing droplets. It’s face and mouth was red with the blood of a fresh kill and it seemed to be momentarily satisfied as it drug the half eaten animal corpse through the dead leaves and underbrush. Suddenly, a flash of light erupted through the sky, greatly illuminating the surrounding area. Something caught the Oroc’s eye shortly after the flash. It turned it’s head to get a better look at the base of the large tree it had been passing. As it moved closer, dragging the corpse with it, it looked at the section where it had seen the flash appear to linger for a short moment. It stuck it’s head closer to the tree, trying to inspect it. As it’s head drew close, suddenly the tree appeared to move.
Ivan spun quickly to the left, embedding the large knife he held in his right hand into the soft section of the Oroc’s head that housed it’s hearing structure. The Oroc let out a large roar and pulled it’s body backward, extending it’s spine. His knife still embedded in the monster’s head, Ivan held on tightly and was pulled off his feet as the eight foot tall Oroc recoiled. Digging his foot into the beast’s stomach, Ivan pushed himself up on the beast. He then jabbed his other knife deep into the beast’s now gaping maw, driving the long blade into the soft tissue in its throat. The blade easily penetrated and embedded into the Oroc’s spinal column, severing the communication between it’s brain and it’s body. The entire episode took just over a second or two and the roaring quickly ceased.
As the Oroc’s body slumped to the ground, Ivan jumped off of the beast and landed safely on the ground. He wiped his blades on the soft fur of the dead animal corpse, removing the blood. Then he sheathed them and retrieved the nearly six foot long sniper rifle which stood up against the tree he had been hugging. He threw a few large leaves over the now dead Oroc and it’s prey, then started off through the forest. He pulled up his hood, as the rain was still coming down.. As he walked, he used his rifle as a walking stick. The butt of the long firearm acting as his third foot.
A couple hours later, he reached his destination. A large rock that stuck out of the side of the short mountain he had been scaling for the last half a day. The outcropping just extended itself over the trees below it, allowing whoever sat atop it to have a unhindered view of the large valley below. He set up the massive rifle near the edge of the outcropping, making sure the legs of its bi-pod secure. Ivan lay himself down in the prone position and pulled down the optical attachment for his helmet. He scanned the valley, then quickly spotted his target. A medium sized Oroc encampment just under 1900 meters out. He zoomed in on the camp, the lenses in his attachment responding automatically to his brainwaves. It was still raining, but he could make out a few shapes.
A large number of berserkers had been spotted in this area, his mission was to asses the situation and determine cause of the his occurrence. If possible he was to eliminate the cause. He scanned the encampment, which was lit barely lit by a few fires. He could make out quiet a few rather large structures, but could not tell what they were. He switched over to thermal. He stared at the structures for a moment. They were cages, very large cages. There were also large heat signatures coming from them. He counted the structures. There were at least thirteen scattered throughout the camp. Thirteen berserkers all in one place, just under fifteen miles from a subterranean entrance. Command was not going to like this news. There was a flash as light blanketed the sky and Ivan saw lightning far behind the camp. It was followed by a large boom.
A thought entered Ivan’s mind, he grinned underneath his helmet and aimed down the scope. For a while he waited, the rain softly pelting his hood and everything around him. Then, another flash. He counted out loud to fifteen. There was the sound of thunder. He grinned, waited for another strike. The sky lit. He counted to four, then squeezed the trigger. There was the sound of thunder.
Just over a mile away, down in the Oroc camp, a large berserker was sitting in it’s cage. There was a flash of light. Suddenly it felt an excruciating pain in it’s gut. It let out a large roar. The surrounding Orocs heard the roar, then the sound of thunder. They rushed over to see what was wrong and to and try to calm the berserker. The large Oroc seemed to be trying to break free from it’s cage and was getting close to achieving its goal. They grabbed their weapons and prepared to kill the beast. Suddenly there was another flash and another roar from a different part of the camp, followed by the sound of thunder. The Orocs began to mobilize to put the two berserkers down before they could break free. Another flash, another roar, the sound of thunder. The first berserker finally broke free.
Ivan picked his rifle by the barrel. He took a few steps back from the edge of the outcropping, then turned around and took one last look at the camp. Zooming in, he could see the berserkers tearing through the structures. The regulars scrambled through the scene, trying to escape or fight back, but failing miserably. He lifted up his optical attachment and pushed his hood back. The rain had just begun to stop and the morning light had begun to show into the sky. He walked himself off of the rock and back onto the leaf covered ground. He slowly began to make his way over the mountain and toward the pickup location. Using his rifle as a walking stick while he trudged through the soggy underbrush.
Later, in another part of the jungle he suddenly came upon a rather strange sight. Hanging in the middle of what appeared to be a path was a severed deer leg, fresh and dripping with blood. Ivan was not using the path himself, but he was still able to see it from around ten feet away. He drew one of his knives with his right hand and approached the scene slowly, testing the ground in front of him with his rifle’s butt. This was no Oroc’s doing, most likely a Amaranth hunting trap. He wouldn’t need to waste time going around it. As long as he steered clear of the activation mechanism, he could just make his way by it. He was feeling pretty confident after last night’s success.
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Alexander heaved out a relieved sigh. Someone had got his message, and had shown up before he decided to try anything stupid. It was always a good idea to put off any idiotic attempts at killing an Oroc until he was sure there wasn't another way. Giving a short nod over to the large thing standing in the distance, he checked his rifle before turning to Dimitri. "I've got half a mind to blow that thing's brains out. But I can't tell if there's more. This damned fog is screwing with my scope." The white haze had settled within the past few minutes, but the thick fog was still annoyingly there. "I don't wanna risk triggering any others that could be nearby. But we can't just leave it there." Taking another quick look at the Oroc, Alexander tried his best to think up some strategic plan to put the beast down. Sadly, his brains revolved around stealth procedures and one shot, one kill assignments. He was no good at rugged battle tactics, not to mention he was overpowered. At least until Dimitri showed up.
He didn't really know the guy all too well, but had heard enough about him to know what he does. A really gifted mechanic is what he saw when Dimitri popped into his head. He liked the guy, but sometimes felt the feeling wasn't mutual. What he liked even more was the battle machine Dimitri drove around in. To be able to pilot something like that; Alexander couldn't help but smirk whenever he saw the thing. He had an idea or two that involved using the large machine, but hadn't thought much of it through. Just short, imaginable plans that ended with the Oroc's head being blown off. "So, got any ideas?"
He didn't really know the guy all too well, but had heard enough about him to know what he does. A really gifted mechanic is what he saw when Dimitri popped into his head. He liked the guy, but sometimes felt the feeling wasn't mutual. What he liked even more was the battle machine Dimitri drove around in. To be able to pilot something like that; Alexander couldn't help but smirk whenever he saw the thing. He had an idea or two that involved using the large machine, but hadn't thought much of it through. Just short, imaginable plans that ended with the Oroc's head being blown off. "So, got any ideas?"
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(let me know if there is any inaccurate information in this post.)
"First thing's always first, and that's that we need to get a confirmed headcount." Dimitri said to Alexander, then peeking out from behind the rubble. He did a quick scan for any and all living things in front of him, and confirmed that there was definitely more than one Oroc. "There are definitely more Orocs out there, and just a straight-up frontal assault would not be the best choice in this situation." He said, then further assessing his surroundings. Several buildings around them seemed close to crumbling and, with the right provocation, could fall on the Orocs. He wouldn't have enough firepower alone, and Alexander's weaponry wouldn't punch holes large enough to cause dilapidation. He would have wondered what they could possibly knock the buildings over with, but he already knew.
"Ok, I have a plan. The buildings in the immediate vicinity of this Oroc group are unstable, and could collapse if provoked. I could go get my Iron Beast and use it to fell some of the buildings, crushing a good number of the Orocs." He paused a moment, re-assessing the situation. "That, however, might leave us open to further attack from any Orocs who may have survived." He sat down and thought for a minute, before theorizing, "If we could lead them away from the most recently destroyed building, that could leave opening for them to fall in the path of another, causing more casualties, but it's also risky, as we would have to be live bait." He then stopped again, thinking of anything else they could do.
"I would say we could call for backup for additional support in this particular scenario, but as you were using a frequency to hail anyone nearby, I'd assume that plan had already failed." Dimitri stopped to ponder again, making sure his plan was the best he could think of, before calling it into action. "Perhaps.. if we could find anything that could intimidate them, they would retreat." Dimitri thought aloud, still trying to produce the perfect plan. He thought for another short moment, before saying, "Okay! I got a better plan. I could set my Iron Beast to go crazy, smashing any Orocs up along its path, while simultaneously knocking down buildings to cause more deaths. If the Orocs are scared enough, they could retreat, but if not, then I set it to retreat back towards us, luring the Orocs towards it, where it could destroy more buildings for more kills, and if that doesn't kill enough or drive away the group, we hop on and scram. How's that sound?" He asked Alexander, facing him directly while still keeping a low profile, so they wouldn't get caught before they got a plan of action.
"First thing's always first, and that's that we need to get a confirmed headcount." Dimitri said to Alexander, then peeking out from behind the rubble. He did a quick scan for any and all living things in front of him, and confirmed that there was definitely more than one Oroc. "There are definitely more Orocs out there, and just a straight-up frontal assault would not be the best choice in this situation." He said, then further assessing his surroundings. Several buildings around them seemed close to crumbling and, with the right provocation, could fall on the Orocs. He wouldn't have enough firepower alone, and Alexander's weaponry wouldn't punch holes large enough to cause dilapidation. He would have wondered what they could possibly knock the buildings over with, but he already knew.
"Ok, I have a plan. The buildings in the immediate vicinity of this Oroc group are unstable, and could collapse if provoked. I could go get my Iron Beast and use it to fell some of the buildings, crushing a good number of the Orocs." He paused a moment, re-assessing the situation. "That, however, might leave us open to further attack from any Orocs who may have survived." He sat down and thought for a minute, before theorizing, "If we could lead them away from the most recently destroyed building, that could leave opening for them to fall in the path of another, causing more casualties, but it's also risky, as we would have to be live bait." He then stopped again, thinking of anything else they could do.
"I would say we could call for backup for additional support in this particular scenario, but as you were using a frequency to hail anyone nearby, I'd assume that plan had already failed." Dimitri stopped to ponder again, making sure his plan was the best he could think of, before calling it into action. "Perhaps.. if we could find anything that could intimidate them, they would retreat." Dimitri thought aloud, still trying to produce the perfect plan. He thought for another short moment, before saying, "Okay! I got a better plan. I could set my Iron Beast to go crazy, smashing any Orocs up along its path, while simultaneously knocking down buildings to cause more deaths. If the Orocs are scared enough, they could retreat, but if not, then I set it to retreat back towards us, luring the Orocs towards it, where it could destroy more buildings for more kills, and if that doesn't kill enough or drive away the group, we hop on and scram. How's that sound?" He asked Alexander, facing him directly while still keeping a low profile, so they wouldn't get caught before they got a plan of action.
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"SN-1 to Command requesting extra fire power down near the old library. One hostile, possibly alone." He spoke in a hushed voice, directing his tone to the headset positioned on his ear. "Repeat, SN-1 to Command, requesting extra hell fire. One hostile spotted, temporarily stationary."
"Stationary, huh? Let's see what the fucker is up to." Adam said with a scowl, it had been two years since his augmentations had been implanted taking over seventy-five percent of his body. His dermal had 'fleshed' out nicely over his heavy augmentation. He put down his assault rifle, swapping it for the LONGSWORD Sniper weapon system. Even if he didn't have the Lancer assault weapon He could always fall back on the FR-27 Sanction Flechette Rifle holstered on his hip. The LONGSWORD fired a.416 magnum round, which, back in the day was a dangerous game hunting round. It would strike 5,438 foot pounds of energy at around a velocity of 806 meters a second. Its tip was not pointed like a standard round, but instead, rounded.
"SN-1, this is Black Bird," Adam whispered into the mic. " Closing in on your six, I have a LONGSWORD that'll make'em twitch." He continued to talk into the intercom before sprinting to the locale of Alexander. Adam activated his active camouflage as he ran into the cover of a shattered spire. He ran up a mound of debris to get to to the partially covered stairs. His boots tasted the settled dust of ashes and cinders, spewing the spores into the air in a small, unnoticeable cloud. Adam could remember a time when this city used to shine; pollution free. The only emissions being released were hydrogen molecules. The only things glinting in the sunlight, when there was sunlight down here--were the buildings themselves. Green glass that tinted when the sun was too bright and glinted like emeralds. Steel that shone with a chromium and nickel plating, sparkles beneath the mid afternoon sun and the late night lights.
It seemed thoughtless, this war. Self-perpetuating the hatred between what was once human. What was left of humanity was a rag-tag menagerie of robotic half-men and women and children. Babies with robotic limbs. That burned him. Kids being torn a part, hell, half the soldiers they put out now were young and green as grass--what grass there used to be anyways.
"Stationary, huh? Let's see what the fucker is up to." Adam said with a scowl, it had been two years since his augmentations had been implanted taking over seventy-five percent of his body. His dermal had 'fleshed' out nicely over his heavy augmentation. He put down his assault rifle, swapping it for the LONGSWORD Sniper weapon system. Even if he didn't have the Lancer assault weapon He could always fall back on the FR-27 Sanction Flechette Rifle holstered on his hip. The LONGSWORD fired a.416 magnum round, which, back in the day was a dangerous game hunting round. It would strike 5,438 foot pounds of energy at around a velocity of 806 meters a second. Its tip was not pointed like a standard round, but instead, rounded.
"SN-1, this is Black Bird," Adam whispered into the mic. " Closing in on your six, I have a LONGSWORD that'll make'em twitch." He continued to talk into the intercom before sprinting to the locale of Alexander. Adam activated his active camouflage as he ran into the cover of a shattered spire. He ran up a mound of debris to get to to the partially covered stairs. His boots tasted the settled dust of ashes and cinders, spewing the spores into the air in a small, unnoticeable cloud. Adam could remember a time when this city used to shine; pollution free. The only emissions being released were hydrogen molecules. The only things glinting in the sunlight, when there was sunlight down here--were the buildings themselves. Green glass that tinted when the sun was too bright and glinted like emeralds. Steel that shone with a chromium and nickel plating, sparkles beneath the mid afternoon sun and the late night lights.
It seemed thoughtless, this war. Self-perpetuating the hatred between what was once human. What was left of humanity was a rag-tag menagerie of robotic half-men and women and children. Babies with robotic limbs. That burned him. Kids being torn a part, hell, half the soldiers they put out now were young and green as grass--what grass there used to be anyways.
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Alexander thought over Dimitri's plan, thinking it'd probably be their best bet. He wasn't surprised that another soldier had shown up, more pleasantly pleased. "SN-1 to Black Bird. Confirmed multiple targets. There's more of 'em out there, but they're using the fog as cover." He had a LONGSWORD. That got Alexander thinking. "Hey Dimitri, I got an idea that can tie into yours. Let loose the Iron Beast, and if the Orocs start to scatter, Black Bird and I can try picking a few of them off, while you hop into your mech and bulldoze the stragglers." It seemed a more safe approach then having a gigantic machine running loose through a mess of unstable buildings. No telling where one of those towers could end up. Plus, there was always the slight possibility the Orocs would decide to fight the machine head on. Which, in that case, that little idea of his would go down the drain. "It's up to you. You've got the big ass machine."
He didn't want to sound too commanding, given the fact that Dimitri outranked him. But Alexander never payed close attention to ranks and status. He thought of each soldier as just that; a soldier. But he had always come across those men who thought they could have been God himself. A bunch of worthless moronic barbarians. They were almost as bad as an Oroc. Almost. Alexander took a sweep of the surrounding area, trying to see if he could spot their newest friend. He was no doubt setting up a position, and Alexander slowly began thinking they might actually be able to walk away from this; hopefully somewhat in tact.
He didn't want to sound too commanding, given the fact that Dimitri outranked him. But Alexander never payed close attention to ranks and status. He thought of each soldier as just that; a soldier. But he had always come across those men who thought they could have been God himself. A bunch of worthless moronic barbarians. They were almost as bad as an Oroc. Almost. Alexander took a sweep of the surrounding area, trying to see if he could spot their newest friend. He was no doubt setting up a position, and Alexander slowly began thinking they might actually be able to walk away from this; hopefully somewhat in tact.
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Anez through another one of her knives at an Oroc that seemed to be getting a little too close to Adam, the knife drove into the ground next to it. She was hoping to distract the Oroc so Adam could get a good shot. She stood her ground, something that was very difficult for her to do since her instinct was to run. The Oroc charged at her, her muscles clenching, there wasn't much moisture in the air so this was going to use a lot of energy.
When the Oroc was nearly two feet away, raising its ax over its head ready to strike, she let out a big puff of breath. The cloud started of small, but grew almost seeming to climb up its legs. Unfortunately there wasn't enough energy in her and moisture in the air to freeze him completely, only enough for the knees down. This didn't faze the Oroc, it swung its ax down at her, she jumped to the side barely missing it.
Her hair swung to her face, her breath still coming out in puffs of steam, just not as pronounced with each breath. She heaved and kept her position on the ground completely drained of her energy and barely able to stand. She knew that the Oroc wouldn't be able to get to her, unless he his ax at her, but she figured she'd be safe enough to regain some more energy.
"You can take the shot now any time Adam!" she yelled to nowhere in particular, just knowing he would here her anyways, "Please let's get this over with so we can go, I'm tired!"
When the Oroc was nearly two feet away, raising its ax over its head ready to strike, she let out a big puff of breath. The cloud started of small, but grew almost seeming to climb up its legs. Unfortunately there wasn't enough energy in her and moisture in the air to freeze him completely, only enough for the knees down. This didn't faze the Oroc, it swung its ax down at her, she jumped to the side barely missing it.
Her hair swung to her face, her breath still coming out in puffs of steam, just not as pronounced with each breath. She heaved and kept her position on the ground completely drained of her energy and barely able to stand. She knew that the Oroc wouldn't be able to get to her, unless he his ax at her, but she figured she'd be safe enough to regain some more energy.
"You can take the shot now any time Adam!" she yelled to nowhere in particular, just knowing he would here her anyways, "Please let's get this over with so we can go, I'm tired!"
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"SN-1 to Black Bird. Confirmed multiple targets. There's more of 'em out there, but they're using the fog as cover." "Gotcha SN-1." Adam replied, ducking a broken remnant of a conduit. He ran out over across a crumbling precipice; robotic legs that he had gotten from that land mine he saved Anez from. She had stepped on it while they escorted a small colony of people to the evacuation site in Langley Falls. He knew she on some level regretted it more because he had been the one the one to replace her. He had guided her off the pressure plated the S-mine. When triggered, these mines launched into the air and then detonate at about 2 ft 11 inches into the air. The explosion projected a lethal spray of steel balls and fragments in all directions.
Needless to say, it shredded Adam's lower extremities. The combination tore his thighs and calves apart like loose ground beef. It mangled him. He have died from the sheer pain had he not wanted to see Anez okay. He'd have given up and died on the operating tray no questions asked. But that wasn't how he was, he had to make sure she was okay. She was practically everything to him since his family--but he would never admit to that. But she was extraordinary for a pointy-eared tree lover, she had a special pace i his heart.
Adam dashed quickly across the ruined structure, vents creating pot-holes and large missing portions of the building itself provided unique obstacles. But with uncanny managerial skills, he weaved and waved his way through the situation. He came to screeching halt and propped the rifle he toted in hand. He zoomed in on the lone sentry that was just standing abut.
"You can take the shot now any time Adam!" she yelled to nowhere in particular, just knowing he would here her anyways, "Please let's get this over with so we can go, I'm tired!"
"Yeah, yeah. Keep you panties on Anez!" He then switched to heat signature read outs and swapped the the scoped-rifle to Anez's position. She was nearly directly beneath him with a half frozen Oroc. He lifted the scope steadily until the laser dot sight lined up with The ugly creatures skull. "Take this you ugly shitfaced bastard!" He squeezed the rigger relinquishing the fifty caliber round at velocities which made the head whirl--spiraling through the back of the creatures head causing it to explode and splatter the surrounding area with a fine mist.
"Whoo hoo!" Adam Cheer manically.
Needless to say, it shredded Adam's lower extremities. The combination tore his thighs and calves apart like loose ground beef. It mangled him. He have died from the sheer pain had he not wanted to see Anez okay. He'd have given up and died on the operating tray no questions asked. But that wasn't how he was, he had to make sure she was okay. She was practically everything to him since his family--but he would never admit to that. But she was extraordinary for a pointy-eared tree lover, she had a special pace i his heart.
Adam dashed quickly across the ruined structure, vents creating pot-holes and large missing portions of the building itself provided unique obstacles. But with uncanny managerial skills, he weaved and waved his way through the situation. He came to screeching halt and propped the rifle he toted in hand. He zoomed in on the lone sentry that was just standing abut.
"You can take the shot now any time Adam!" she yelled to nowhere in particular, just knowing he would here her anyways, "Please let's get this over with so we can go, I'm tired!"
"Yeah, yeah. Keep you panties on Anez!" He then switched to heat signature read outs and swapped the the scoped-rifle to Anez's position. She was nearly directly beneath him with a half frozen Oroc. He lifted the scope steadily until the laser dot sight lined up with The ugly creatures skull. "Take this you ugly shitfaced bastard!" He squeezed the rigger relinquishing the fifty caliber round at velocities which made the head whirl--spiraling through the back of the creatures head causing it to explode and splatter the surrounding area with a fine mist.
"Whoo hoo!" Adam Cheer manically.
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Takuya ran through the forest, silently, like a shadow. Even with his half-human blood, his stills as a hunter and a stalker were exceptional. His eyes saw everything. He saw the squirrel shake its tail before running up the tree. He saw the young fox sniffing around rabbit den. Everything appeared in technicolor. He knew what this was. It was the same nightmare he'd had for almost fifty years.
He would turn now, a sound or smell catching his attention. Something was wrong. He turned and ran, just like always. Maybe he could make it in time...maybe.
But he never did. He was always too late, and he always came upon a bloody and horrific scene of his mother brutally mutilated, killed, and her blood used to write things all over their walls. Takuya saw them all, everything beginning to swim in front of him in a red haze.
Takuya's eyes snapped open, his body drenched in a cold sweat as usual. There was nothing he could have done then, why did he always think differently in his nightmares? He sighed, looking up at the sky. Everything was in a purplish-pink haze. Dawn was beginning to break. He guessed it was around five thirty in the morning. Trying to pull himself together, Takuya slowly got his things gathered together, not that he had much, and began his trek towards the nearest town once again.
This was the third day he'd been traveling. The last town had met him with nothing but hostility and brutality. The town had been highly Silvian populated, so he wasn't surprised they had wanted him out of town. Most Silvians knew of his father, and knew he was his son, as he looked like a clone of the man, save for his eyes and the shape of his ears. Takuya no longer cared, he was well used to it. The only thing he felt anger or contempt at was at the group of Silvians who killed his mother. That had been unwarranted and wrong. But there was nothing Takuya could do about that night anymore. All he could do was keep moving forward.
He would turn now, a sound or smell catching his attention. Something was wrong. He turned and ran, just like always. Maybe he could make it in time...maybe.
But he never did. He was always too late, and he always came upon a bloody and horrific scene of his mother brutally mutilated, killed, and her blood used to write things all over their walls. Takuya saw them all, everything beginning to swim in front of him in a red haze.
Takuya's eyes snapped open, his body drenched in a cold sweat as usual. There was nothing he could have done then, why did he always think differently in his nightmares? He sighed, looking up at the sky. Everything was in a purplish-pink haze. Dawn was beginning to break. He guessed it was around five thirty in the morning. Trying to pull himself together, Takuya slowly got his things gathered together, not that he had much, and began his trek towards the nearest town once again.
This was the third day he'd been traveling. The last town had met him with nothing but hostility and brutality. The town had been highly Silvian populated, so he wasn't surprised they had wanted him out of town. Most Silvians knew of his father, and knew he was his son, as he looked like a clone of the man, save for his eyes and the shape of his ears. Takuya no longer cared, he was well used to it. The only thing he felt anger or contempt at was at the group of Silvians who killed his mother. That had been unwarranted and wrong. But there was nothing Takuya could do about that night anymore. All he could do was keep moving forward.
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Anez closed her eyes and let her hair fall completely in her face blocking from the explosion of mist as best she could. When it dies down and shook her head.
"Thanks for that!" she called. She stood up carefully and slowly, her limbs still feeling shaky. The body of the Oroc was still standing, its legs frozen stiff, though the torso of it was slouching. She coughed slightly as the mist was still in the air, she tucked her hair behind one of her ears, letting the other half still cover her face. "Why is it whenever we go out on missions I'm always the one that seems to be in the middle of the messes," she said to herself as she brushed herself off. A small pile of rubble shifted behind her, she turned around, a knife already in her hand.
"Who's there?" she said harshly. Another small pile shifted, but this time a littler further away, meaning whoever, or whatever, it was, as moving. She took off after it, leaving a small trail of rocks for Adam to follow. She dodged around big pieces buildings and small ones, not making a sound. She soon heard the creature stop and was heaving immensely. She crouched down behind what used to be a doorway and looked around it carefully.
There sitting on a rock, head down, and heaving was what looked to be a ten year old human boy. Her eyes softened and she gently put a hand over her stomach remembering her unborn child. It had been years ago, when she was still enslaved. She had fallen in love with one of the other enslaved Silvians, his name was Delwyn. Almost every midnight they would get together. after ten years of knowing each other and nights together, Anez got pregnant. She was only about a month pregnant with the child, but with all the abuse that came with being enslaved to the Orocs, she miscarried the child. Delwyn died shortly before she and the others were saved because he had been badly beaten and had given up hope at seeing freedom again and at the announcement of the miscarriage. She has never quite lost her maternal instincts and feels the need to protect any child she sees, while remembering her own.
After a short period she spotted another boy slowly sneak up, it was the first boy's identical twin. They talked for a little bit, but it so low of voices all Anez heard was a low murmur. Then all of the sudden the second twin started to cry. Anez couldn't help what she did next. She walked out slowly from her hiding spot, putting her knife away quickly.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered as the two boys tensed, "Where's your family?" her voice was soft and as comforting as she could possibly make it. The one that had been crying started to really bawl now and came running into her arms. She was a little taken alarm by this, but pulled the boy into a hug. The other cautiously walked towards her, sticking his nose up slightly.
"What's it to you?" he asked.
"Nothing except that no child should go without a family," she said.
"He's my family and I'm his, how's that without a family?" the boy retorted. She smiled at the boy's bravery and attitude.
"What are your names?" Anez asked. The crying one looked to his brother who shook his head, but ignoring this warning he gently left Anez's arms.
"I'm Ian and he's James," the boy said, "What about you?"
Anez smiled, "Well it's nice to meet you James and Ian. My name is Anez." Ian smiled and walked back into her arms, James inching closer seeming to trust her a little more. There were loud footsteps and some grunting as two Orocs lumbered into the scene. The twins ran behind Anez, Anez putting her arms back a little to protect them. She took out two knives and hunched down.
"Run, follow the trail of small stones, you'll find a man following them. You can trust him and he'll protect you. GO!" she shouted. She heard the two boys run away, leaving her with the two Orocs that were closing in on her. "Come on Adam," she whispered as she quickly began to climb to higher ground and hopefully out of the Orocs reach of her.
"Thanks for that!" she called. She stood up carefully and slowly, her limbs still feeling shaky. The body of the Oroc was still standing, its legs frozen stiff, though the torso of it was slouching. She coughed slightly as the mist was still in the air, she tucked her hair behind one of her ears, letting the other half still cover her face. "Why is it whenever we go out on missions I'm always the one that seems to be in the middle of the messes," she said to herself as she brushed herself off. A small pile of rubble shifted behind her, she turned around, a knife already in her hand.
"Who's there?" she said harshly. Another small pile shifted, but this time a littler further away, meaning whoever, or whatever, it was, as moving. She took off after it, leaving a small trail of rocks for Adam to follow. She dodged around big pieces buildings and small ones, not making a sound. She soon heard the creature stop and was heaving immensely. She crouched down behind what used to be a doorway and looked around it carefully.
There sitting on a rock, head down, and heaving was what looked to be a ten year old human boy. Her eyes softened and she gently put a hand over her stomach remembering her unborn child. It had been years ago, when she was still enslaved. She had fallen in love with one of the other enslaved Silvians, his name was Delwyn. Almost every midnight they would get together. after ten years of knowing each other and nights together, Anez got pregnant. She was only about a month pregnant with the child, but with all the abuse that came with being enslaved to the Orocs, she miscarried the child. Delwyn died shortly before she and the others were saved because he had been badly beaten and had given up hope at seeing freedom again and at the announcement of the miscarriage. She has never quite lost her maternal instincts and feels the need to protect any child she sees, while remembering her own.
After a short period she spotted another boy slowly sneak up, it was the first boy's identical twin. They talked for a little bit, but it so low of voices all Anez heard was a low murmur. Then all of the sudden the second twin started to cry. Anez couldn't help what she did next. She walked out slowly from her hiding spot, putting her knife away quickly.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered as the two boys tensed, "Where's your family?" her voice was soft and as comforting as she could possibly make it. The one that had been crying started to really bawl now and came running into her arms. She was a little taken alarm by this, but pulled the boy into a hug. The other cautiously walked towards her, sticking his nose up slightly.
"What's it to you?" he asked.
"Nothing except that no child should go without a family," she said.
"He's my family and I'm his, how's that without a family?" the boy retorted. She smiled at the boy's bravery and attitude.
"What are your names?" Anez asked. The crying one looked to his brother who shook his head, but ignoring this warning he gently left Anez's arms.
"I'm Ian and he's James," the boy said, "What about you?"
Anez smiled, "Well it's nice to meet you James and Ian. My name is Anez." Ian smiled and walked back into her arms, James inching closer seeming to trust her a little more. There were loud footsteps and some grunting as two Orocs lumbered into the scene. The twins ran behind Anez, Anez putting her arms back a little to protect them. She took out two knives and hunched down.
"Run, follow the trail of small stones, you'll find a man following them. You can trust him and he'll protect you. GO!" she shouted. She heard the two boys run away, leaving her with the two Orocs that were closing in on her. "Come on Adam," she whispered as she quickly began to climb to higher ground and hopefully out of the Orocs reach of her.
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The clouds continued their bombardment on the forest below. Waterfalls formed within the canopy and flowed from branch to branch until it met the solid earth. Mud began to pool in mucky reservoirs as the downpour soaked the ground.
High above the forest floor, well hidden in the dense foliage and soaking wet, John continued to wait for his quarry. It was two hours ago since he spotted the mysterious soldier, three hours ago since the rain started, and four hours ago since he scaled the massive tree. Still he waited patiently, fueled by his undying hatred toward the beasts he hunted.
Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a smaller bag. Out of the bag he withdrew several sticks of redish-brown deer jerky that bore the scent of both mesquite and the animal they came from. He also pulled out some assorted nuts, leaves and stems from various plants, and a canteen filled with a steamy, sweet smelling liquid. As he ate his “meal,” John pulled out his Bowie knife and ran his finger along the blade. It was a simple blade made from a hardened steel alloy. Carved along the handle were the letters M-A-T-T, and suddenly dark memories flooded into his mind.
It was nearly a whole decade since the fateful day when John returned to his home, after long hours of working his fields, to find it in ruins. The images of his parents, brothers, sisters, wife, and infant son all violently butchered and partially devoured, leaving the gory remains to be scavenged by buzzards, still lay singed in his mind. John still remembered each tear he shed as he burned their bodies so they would not be defiled by hungry beasts or scavenging Orocs. He still remembered the hatred that consumed him – still consumed him – for the beasts that robbed him of his life.
John reached into his tunic and pulled out a small golden locket on a chain. Using his index finger he flipped it open, revealing the face of a stunningly beautiful woman with long blonde hair and eyes that resembled the sky. He clenched the locket in his hand and lifted it up to his mouth. His body began to quiver, starting with his hand, then his arm, and finally his shoulders. A single tear, nearly indistinguishable from the rain, ran down his cheek.
Amanda… Dear Amanda… Why did you abandon me? This world is so cold, so dark, without your warmth and love. If only you were here…
A rustle of leaves in the distance stirred him from his trance. Looking down to the forest floor revealed the figure of an Oroc coming up the path. Its head and eyes darted back and forth while the beast’s nostrils snorted occasionally. After a moment, the abomination’s eyes located the deer leg hanging from the vine, and they seemed to twinkle. The Oroc licked its lips in anticipation as it strode through the brush toward the easy meal.
Yes, that’s it… Come to papa…
Once the beast came within arm’s reach of the leg, John grabbed onto the vine and pulled, causing the leg to ascend. The Oroc’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion before it attempted to reach the leg. After letting out a growl, it stooped low to the ground and leaped into the air, a good two-and-a-half feet off of the ground, only for the leg to rise even higher. It repeated this several times until it released a roar in frustration. Then, suddenly, the leg fell to the ground in front of the Oroc with the long vine following suit. However, completely ignoring the vine, the Oroc reached down for the deer leg and began to gnaw hungrily on it.
High above the Oroc, John sat holding his Bowie knife in one hand and the severed vine in the other. A grin stretched across his face. After packing up his things, he began his silent descent down the tree. Once he reached the bottom, he looked over his shoulder and saw the Oroc still devouring the deer leg. Deciding to let it live, he turned around and vanished into the forest.
Enjoy your treat, abomination, for your time will come soon enough.
High above the forest floor, well hidden in the dense foliage and soaking wet, John continued to wait for his quarry. It was two hours ago since he spotted the mysterious soldier, three hours ago since the rain started, and four hours ago since he scaled the massive tree. Still he waited patiently, fueled by his undying hatred toward the beasts he hunted.
Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a smaller bag. Out of the bag he withdrew several sticks of redish-brown deer jerky that bore the scent of both mesquite and the animal they came from. He also pulled out some assorted nuts, leaves and stems from various plants, and a canteen filled with a steamy, sweet smelling liquid. As he ate his “meal,” John pulled out his Bowie knife and ran his finger along the blade. It was a simple blade made from a hardened steel alloy. Carved along the handle were the letters M-A-T-T, and suddenly dark memories flooded into his mind.
It was nearly a whole decade since the fateful day when John returned to his home, after long hours of working his fields, to find it in ruins. The images of his parents, brothers, sisters, wife, and infant son all violently butchered and partially devoured, leaving the gory remains to be scavenged by buzzards, still lay singed in his mind. John still remembered each tear he shed as he burned their bodies so they would not be defiled by hungry beasts or scavenging Orocs. He still remembered the hatred that consumed him – still consumed him – for the beasts that robbed him of his life.
John reached into his tunic and pulled out a small golden locket on a chain. Using his index finger he flipped it open, revealing the face of a stunningly beautiful woman with long blonde hair and eyes that resembled the sky. He clenched the locket in his hand and lifted it up to his mouth. His body began to quiver, starting with his hand, then his arm, and finally his shoulders. A single tear, nearly indistinguishable from the rain, ran down his cheek.
Amanda… Dear Amanda… Why did you abandon me? This world is so cold, so dark, without your warmth and love. If only you were here…
A rustle of leaves in the distance stirred him from his trance. Looking down to the forest floor revealed the figure of an Oroc coming up the path. Its head and eyes darted back and forth while the beast’s nostrils snorted occasionally. After a moment, the abomination’s eyes located the deer leg hanging from the vine, and they seemed to twinkle. The Oroc licked its lips in anticipation as it strode through the brush toward the easy meal.
Yes, that’s it… Come to papa…
Once the beast came within arm’s reach of the leg, John grabbed onto the vine and pulled, causing the leg to ascend. The Oroc’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion before it attempted to reach the leg. After letting out a growl, it stooped low to the ground and leaped into the air, a good two-and-a-half feet off of the ground, only for the leg to rise even higher. It repeated this several times until it released a roar in frustration. Then, suddenly, the leg fell to the ground in front of the Oroc with the long vine following suit. However, completely ignoring the vine, the Oroc reached down for the deer leg and began to gnaw hungrily on it.
High above the Oroc, John sat holding his Bowie knife in one hand and the severed vine in the other. A grin stretched across his face. After packing up his things, he began his silent descent down the tree. Once he reached the bottom, he looked over his shoulder and saw the Oroc still devouring the deer leg. Deciding to let it live, he turned around and vanished into the forest.
Enjoy your treat, abomination, for your time will come soon enough.
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The building was still on fire after all these years, like God had condemned it to burn for an eternity and a day. He scrambled up its side as it was slightly leaning a ways to the left. He clambered over the crumbling concrete and steel skeleton, using both his hands and feet to quicken his movements. Despite the weight of his gear, two rifles, side arm and communications, Adam was built almost specifically for such endeavors.
Adam had several accolades, mostly Silvian in nature as he was often employed to help in guarding the Teleporters from barrages of Oroc forces--no small feat to be sure. They were mostly animal names like Aikanáro which meant "Geko" because of his ability to climb astounding heights, hang by his finger tips from sky scrapers--and Séregon which meant simply "Wolf" for his rugged survivability, his harsh nature and his vicious engagements with the enemy as well as his knack for scavenging the dead--while not all his behaviors were exactly tolerated by Silvians, in general he was as much a hero for them as for the humans.
He had and appentence for violence, a thirst that couldn't be quenched, a hunger that was almost as ravenous as a starving Oroc in frenzy when he engaged the enemy. This scared the Silvians, as they feared that humanity might have devolved to the Orocs mindset, some even offering to take large quantities of humans into the clouds and just turn off the teleporters and forget the rest of the world just to save the link between Humans and Silvians because they feared that if humanity died out--that they would somehow fade. Others argued that the humans inability and low intelligence made them irrelevant to their own survivability--even considered humans hindering or impeding their own progression and that natural selection had cast its die.
Adam had punched a neigh-sayer in the nose once, much to the dismay of the King.
Adam's scavenging the dead was a real problem for the Silvian's who thought themselves above such things because of their inexhaustability of an explosive isotope that became the compound for their explosive warhead that was the center focus for their high-tech Compound bow. True, they had an array of other arrow types; incendiary, flare arrows and regular arrows that they could shoot at incredible distances because of Silvian's uncanny eyesight. These Arrowhead had no explosive power to them, only that they could strike with the force of a .357 magnum at point-blank range. But their explosive warhead were their bread and butter. Even Adam liked them, mostly because they exploded and the fact they could kill anything under a Berserker in one shot was just a bonus.
However, it took years to train to use a bow like that. Silvians on average--with some exceptions--could live anywhere from six to seven hundred years unless they are combatants like his best friend Anez then they could expect to live a lot shorter lives from the obvious dangers, but that was a fact they had to accept when wanting to become Hunters and Stalkers.That was their life after that choice. Sure, they could find a life mate and have children--but many didn't because they knew there was a strong, if not overwhelming chance that they might not be there to see them grow up.
But humans, they didn't have incredibly advanced and top performance equipment and they sure as hell didn't have the adaptive skin that Orocs did. So they did what they had to, to survive and neigh-sayers be damned. They didn't live underground or on it, they were in the sky above with sunrises and sunsets--they were out here in this wasteland bleeding to death, starving, freezing and lonely. They didn't know what it was to run out of bullets just trying to make it to a checkpoint. But he did.
He lived it everyday. Sleeping in the filth and grime, not having a shower for weeks. No running water ladies and gentlemen, not out here. Humans passed a law. Every man from the ages of 16 had to perform their duties til 32 or until they died. There was no exceptions. Not anymore.
His visor suddenly zoomed in to the trekking Orocs. They hadn't been spotted yet. It was just a patrol. But what he saw next, irritated him. A Berserker.
"Ah, damn it all to hell. I was hoping to get some relaxation in. Fucking Orocs! Don'tcha know your cutting into time I could better spend getting laid you sons of bitches!" He yelled, but luckily he had turned his mic off or so he thought. There were about thirty or so Regulars. They were vastly outnumbered and no help in sight that could reach them. An inspiring thought then occurred to him. He then zoomed in on the Berserker who was chained by several Regulars, and trudging along. He then slid his finger over the trigger, and gave a malevolent--almost sinister chortle as he knew what would happen--and pulled the trigger.
A loud, audible familiar 'crack' tore through the air but before the sound came to the Orocs who were still a ways off--the bullet struck the Berserker. While even fifty cal rounds wouldn't do much to a Berserker, it would trigger their frenzy as it would make them think they were under attack. Adam thought of them as proximity grenades. He laughed as he watched the fur stand up on end on the Berserker, its tail 'flick' like a cat that was entirely too aggravated. The Orocs suddenly found themselves on the brunt end of an enraged animal. The monstrously muscular creature took one of the Regular, lifted him off the ground and tore him apart like tearing the wings of a fly.
Adam had several accolades, mostly Silvian in nature as he was often employed to help in guarding the Teleporters from barrages of Oroc forces--no small feat to be sure. They were mostly animal names like Aikanáro which meant "Geko" because of his ability to climb astounding heights, hang by his finger tips from sky scrapers--and Séregon which meant simply "Wolf" for his rugged survivability, his harsh nature and his vicious engagements with the enemy as well as his knack for scavenging the dead--while not all his behaviors were exactly tolerated by Silvians, in general he was as much a hero for them as for the humans.
He had and appentence for violence, a thirst that couldn't be quenched, a hunger that was almost as ravenous as a starving Oroc in frenzy when he engaged the enemy. This scared the Silvians, as they feared that humanity might have devolved to the Orocs mindset, some even offering to take large quantities of humans into the clouds and just turn off the teleporters and forget the rest of the world just to save the link between Humans and Silvians because they feared that if humanity died out--that they would somehow fade. Others argued that the humans inability and low intelligence made them irrelevant to their own survivability--even considered humans hindering or impeding their own progression and that natural selection had cast its die.
Adam had punched a neigh-sayer in the nose once, much to the dismay of the King.
Adam's scavenging the dead was a real problem for the Silvian's who thought themselves above such things because of their inexhaustability of an explosive isotope that became the compound for their explosive warhead that was the center focus for their high-tech Compound bow. True, they had an array of other arrow types; incendiary, flare arrows and regular arrows that they could shoot at incredible distances because of Silvian's uncanny eyesight. These Arrowhead had no explosive power to them, only that they could strike with the force of a .357 magnum at point-blank range. But their explosive warhead were their bread and butter. Even Adam liked them, mostly because they exploded and the fact they could kill anything under a Berserker in one shot was just a bonus.
However, it took years to train to use a bow like that. Silvians on average--with some exceptions--could live anywhere from six to seven hundred years unless they are combatants like his best friend Anez then they could expect to live a lot shorter lives from the obvious dangers, but that was a fact they had to accept when wanting to become Hunters and Stalkers.That was their life after that choice. Sure, they could find a life mate and have children--but many didn't because they knew there was a strong, if not overwhelming chance that they might not be there to see them grow up.
But humans, they didn't have incredibly advanced and top performance equipment and they sure as hell didn't have the adaptive skin that Orocs did. So they did what they had to, to survive and neigh-sayers be damned. They didn't live underground or on it, they were in the sky above with sunrises and sunsets--they were out here in this wasteland bleeding to death, starving, freezing and lonely. They didn't know what it was to run out of bullets just trying to make it to a checkpoint. But he did.
He lived it everyday. Sleeping in the filth and grime, not having a shower for weeks. No running water ladies and gentlemen, not out here. Humans passed a law. Every man from the ages of 16 had to perform their duties til 32 or until they died. There was no exceptions. Not anymore.
His visor suddenly zoomed in to the trekking Orocs. They hadn't been spotted yet. It was just a patrol. But what he saw next, irritated him. A Berserker.
"Ah, damn it all to hell. I was hoping to get some relaxation in. Fucking Orocs! Don'tcha know your cutting into time I could better spend getting laid you sons of bitches!" He yelled, but luckily he had turned his mic off or so he thought. There were about thirty or so Regulars. They were vastly outnumbered and no help in sight that could reach them. An inspiring thought then occurred to him. He then zoomed in on the Berserker who was chained by several Regulars, and trudging along. He then slid his finger over the trigger, and gave a malevolent--almost sinister chortle as he knew what would happen--and pulled the trigger.
A loud, audible familiar 'crack' tore through the air but before the sound came to the Orocs who were still a ways off--the bullet struck the Berserker. While even fifty cal rounds wouldn't do much to a Berserker, it would trigger their frenzy as it would make them think they were under attack. Adam thought of them as proximity grenades. He laughed as he watched the fur stand up on end on the Berserker, its tail 'flick' like a cat that was entirely too aggravated. The Orocs suddenly found themselves on the brunt end of an enraged animal. The monstrously muscular creature took one of the Regular, lifted him off the ground and tore him apart like tearing the wings of a fly.
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Ivan Nevron
Ivan trudged up the stairs of the old ruin, his metal boots clunking duly against the moss covered concrete. It had been around an hour since he had spotted that Amaranth hunting trap, which he had passed by with no trouble. Now he was climbing the stairs of an old ruined building, which was several stories high. The lone structure stuck out somewhat from the surrounding jungle, despite the massive amounts of foliage covering it. As he reached the top of the last step, he looked over the roof. This was the pickup point and as expected it was large and flat enough to land the transportation vehicle on. He walked over to a turned over chunk of wall that was near the edge of the building. Laying his rifle against it, he sat down and took a moment to rest. He took off his helmet and laid it beside him. Taking a small packet out of one of the pouches on his waist, he ripped a small hole in the thick plastic and pored the powdery contents into his mouth. Taking a small canteen off of his waist, he washed the synthesized meal down his throat and swallowed. After he discarded the empty packet on the floor, he stuck the canteen back on his waist.
He brought up his right arm and turned it to look as his wrist. His brain sent the necessary impulses to bring up the display on the small black screen. What looked like a digital clock appeared, numbers glowed soft green against the black screen. He put his arm back down and the display went black again. He looked up at the sky. The sun bore down and most of the sky looked a deep blue, except for the dark mass of clouds moving in from the west. He let out a soft sigh, he never liked charging his suit. He picked his helmet back up and stuffed it down onto his head, securing it in place.
Pushing himself up off of the concrete he was sitting on, he stood and walked out into the middle of the roof and crouched down on his hands and knees. Moving the tail end of his cloak over so that it was no longer covering his lower back, he turned the small locking mechanism located just over his spine. Thinking the necessary thoughts to initiate the recharging processes, the plates on his back folded open and revealed four panels. The panels were solid black and glared against the sun. “Damn it….” Ivan cursed, knowing that he would have to maintain this crouched position for nearly an hour.
Later, Ivan stood up and twisted his body to the right and left, relieving the stiffness that came with holding the same position for so long. He looked up. The sky had began to grow dark as the mass of clouds from earlier was now moving overhead. He began to hear the patter of newly falling rain. Pulling the hood of his cloak over his head, he walked over to his rifle. He carried it over to a small overhang, which was just big enough to shield him from the ever increasing downpour. He laid his rifle against the wall and sat beside it. Bringing up the time on his display, he sighed yet again. It would still be nineteen hours until the extraction vehicle arrived. “You would think that command would have more faith in my ability to finish a mission quickly.” He said out loud to himself. “Well, in their defense, it was a recon mission. You were supposed to gather Intel over the course of the last twenty hours. In fact, the missions specs say that you should still be observing the area.” He responded to himself. “Well, that doesn’t matter now, I got rid of the problem. I think they should really focus on developing longer range comms.” He replied, relaxing a bit more into the wall. “Come on, you know its not about the range. If you were killed, they have to have plausible deniability. If you had a com line straight to the higher ups, then that would be straight out the window.” “Why the hell do they need plausible deniability when I’m just killing Oroc’s?” He looked up to see the rain now coming down in droves. “How can one ever know why a politician does anything…..” He trailed off.
Bored with talking do himself, he weighed whether or not to read his book. After a moment, he decided not to. He didn’t want to risk the text getting wet from the rain. However, he needed to do something to pass the time. He dug into one of his pouches and pulled out a piece of white chalk. He hadn’t used any of it during this mission, due to the high frequency of rain, so he still had quite a bit left. He began to doodle on a bare section of concrete that was on the wall behind him. First he drew a rather simple looking stick figure, then gave it a club. An Oroc. Then another stick figure with what looked like a cape and a long stick. The one with the cape was pointing the long stick at the Oroc. He drew a few small lines coming out of the barrel of the rifle-stick then scribbled all over the Oroc’s face. He wrote the word “Bang!” over the small scene. Then grew bored.
He stuffed the chalk back into his pouch and pulled his rifle close to his body. He decided to get some sleep. He was rather confident that no Oroc’s would be coming up to the top of this lone ruin. There was no light or fire to attract them and the ruined stairs were mildly difficult to scale in some places. Pulling his hood down to cover the majority of his helmet, he closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly.
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Hearing the familiar pop of a rifle, Alexander could only guess his backup had decided to open fire. Off in the distance, he could easily pick up the wailing sounds of a berserker rampaging through a hoard of Orocs. "Huh. I guess this'll work too." Rolling onto his stomach, Alexander adjusted his scope, able to catch sight of the monster wreaking havoc not too far from their position. After a silent second of finding the right target, he fired a shot into the berserker's thigh. This did very little to stop it, seeing as how Alexander wasn't carrying his modified rounds with him. But he wasn't planning on stopping it, he only wanted to anger the beast further. Glancing over to Dimitri, he gave a quick nod towards the horrific shouts. "Got any long range weapons you can use? Now would be a damn good time to bring them out!" Picking up his rifle, Alexander darted between a few heaps of rubble before finding an entrance to a collapsed building.
The structure wasn't very high, give or take four stories. At least, that's what was left. But it was enough for the sniper, seeing as how he only needed a slightly better view of the predicament before him. He tried his best to ease his way up the side of the structure with as little noise as possible. If he could just try to pick off an oroc or two before they put down the berserker, he'd be in a good mood. Easier said then done..
The structure wasn't very high, give or take four stories. At least, that's what was left. But it was enough for the sniper, seeing as how he only needed a slightly better view of the predicament before him. He tried his best to ease his way up the side of the structure with as little noise as possible. If he could just try to pick off an oroc or two before they put down the berserker, he'd be in a good mood. Easier said then done..
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Anez reached her high ground, which was the second story window of an old ruin building. She looked down at the Orocs who let out a enraged growl at losing their kill and leaned against the wall sliding down so that she was sitting. Her energy was completely zapped and she wanted nothing more than to just sit in front of a giant fire with Adam and the others and to have a warm drink. She shivered slightly and not because it had started to down pour, but because she was struggling to keep her emotions checked. Seeing those kids had brought back so many memories that she'd rather keep locked up. She needed Adam, when Delwyn died she had grown distant to everything and seemed to develop a thick layer of frost over her heart. But Adam somehow had been able to get past that, he was the one she went to when she felt the weight of the world stab her heart.
There was a loud piercing growl from the Orocs that pulled her from her thinking and she saw them head inside the building. If the stairs were strong enough to hold them or if they knew that the stairs could, she didn't know, but all she did know is she didn't want to find out. She pulled herself up, really starting to feel like she wouldn't last much longer and began to slowly walk up the stairs to the top of the building, finding it impossible to run anymore.
At the top, the rain nailed the ground making the moss covered concrete extremely slick. She saw a dark shadowed figure on the other side of the roof which froze her to her spot, but the sounds of the Orocs climbing the stairs instead of falling scared her even more and she walked in the direction of the guy. Some smudges of what looked to be chalk were nearby him. She wasn't sure what to do, but then she spotted a rifle. She sneaked over and reached for it, holding her breath while staring at the guy who's face was covered by a mask, and praying he wouldn't suddenly wake up and catch her.
There was a loud piercing growl from the Orocs that pulled her from her thinking and she saw them head inside the building. If the stairs were strong enough to hold them or if they knew that the stairs could, she didn't know, but all she did know is she didn't want to find out. She pulled herself up, really starting to feel like she wouldn't last much longer and began to slowly walk up the stairs to the top of the building, finding it impossible to run anymore.
At the top, the rain nailed the ground making the moss covered concrete extremely slick. She saw a dark shadowed figure on the other side of the roof which froze her to her spot, but the sounds of the Orocs climbing the stairs instead of falling scared her even more and she walked in the direction of the guy. Some smudges of what looked to be chalk were nearby him. She wasn't sure what to do, but then she spotted a rifle. She sneaked over and reached for it, holding her breath while staring at the guy who's face was covered by a mask, and praying he wouldn't suddenly wake up and catch her.
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Ivan Nevron
Ivan awoke to the sound of an Oroc’s loud growl. He immediately drew one of his knives with his right hand, but maintained his sitting position. Hiding his now armed right hand under his cloak, he remained motionless. He did not want to draw unwanted attention to himself by jerking up into a stance. As he scanned the empty roof with the micro cameras mounted in his helmet, his mind raced. The roof was empty except for the constant patter of rain that fell upon. Why were the Orocs attracted to his location. They shouldn’t be. There was no smoke coming from the roof, he had certainly made loud noises during his sleep. The only possible explanation would be that someone had led them here. Ivan’s theory was confirmed as he saw a figure pull themselves up onto the roof.
When the figure finished pulling its self up onto the roof, it froze for a moment. Apparently noticing Ivan for the first time. He kept still, wanting to maintain the element of surprise by making them believe he was still asleep. It began moving forward toward his after a few loud noises came from below. He followed it severely with his “eyes” as it moved across the roof. As it got closer, he began to notice its features. Height, just over five feet. Small features, female. Relatively un-muscular, long hair. The figure drew to about four feet away and he was able to make out her hair and skin color. Shit. He cursed it his mind. His mind instantly began to work through many ambush strategies and exit contingencies for the Oroc’s that were scaling the building. They would most likely not give up on this one. She was Silvian. From her pale hair color and skin to her elongated ears, there could be no mistake. No wonder there were Oroc’s climbing up into this unassuming wreck of a structure. They had cornered a Silvian, one of their favorite game.
The Silvian woman reached out to grab for Ivan’s rifle. Before she got close enough to touch it, he quickly moved his right hand up and put the large blade of his knife between his weapon and her hand. He tilted his head of at the woman and shook his head from left to right. No. His gesture was clear. He looked up at her and motioned his head to his left, the opposite side to him for which she had been reaching. He wouldn’t have her stealing his weapon. “Sit. Other side.” His orders where soft but sharp as they crackled through his helmet’s speaker. He did not want to incite the Oroc’s beneath them, be he wanted to make it clear that she would not be getting his firearm. While he watched her carefully, his mind was working double-time. Trying to come up with a solution to the predicament that he now found himself in. He needed more information. “How many?” He asked, again maintaining a soft tone. He stopped thinking for a millisecond to grin slightly under his helmet. Now this was a real challenge.
Setting
0.00 INK
Anez stopped her hand midair, the man shook his head. Her hand retreated, she would've loved nothing more to just ignore this man and his knife and just take the rifle, but her chances of survival were low.
"How many?" he asked. She held up two fingers, her eyes big and pleading and eyebrows pulled together.
"Please help," she whispered before walking backwards towards the area he motioned her to go. She sat down, her breath quiet, but coming out heaves. The rain soaked her through, her white blond hair sticking to her face and self. She clung to her legs and was forcing herself to stay awake long enough to be safe, her energy level falling fast. She could hear the lumbering Orocs somehow coming up the stairs successfully, closed her eyes partially praying that somehow Adam would show up out of nowhere like always and get her out of this mess, and partially resting.
That's when she heard the roars of triumph, she looked up and there were the two ugly heads of the Orocs, they grinned as they saw her and gurgled a laugh, she cringed and pulled her legs in tighter awaiting the pain of being killed.
"How many?" he asked. She held up two fingers, her eyes big and pleading and eyebrows pulled together.
"Please help," she whispered before walking backwards towards the area he motioned her to go. She sat down, her breath quiet, but coming out heaves. The rain soaked her through, her white blond hair sticking to her face and self. She clung to her legs and was forcing herself to stay awake long enough to be safe, her energy level falling fast. She could hear the lumbering Orocs somehow coming up the stairs successfully, closed her eyes partially praying that somehow Adam would show up out of nowhere like always and get her out of this mess, and partially resting.
That's when she heard the roars of triumph, she looked up and there were the two ugly heads of the Orocs, they grinned as they saw her and gurgled a laugh, she cringed and pulled her legs in tighter awaiting the pain of being killed.
Setting
0.00 INK
Ivan Nevron
The Silvian woman held up two fingers. All of Ivan’s excitement drained away instantly. Two? That was hardly a challenge at all. It had certainly sounded like there were more of them. The woman went and sat over where he had motioned to. Ivan sighed slightly, not enough for the sound to penetrate his helmet. The course of action was simple. Wait till they were up, gain the element of surprise. They would focus on their tasty prey far quicker than they would notice his sitting figure through the rain. Pop one in the head, then use the other’s surprise to take it out up close. One shot alone would not give away his position, and the second Oroc would be an easy target in the midst of shock and awe. Ivan pulled down his optical attachment and flipped up the bipod on his rifle. He set his knife on the ground beside him and lowered the rifle quickly into position. He however, remained in his sitting position, aiming the rifle from his hip. He wirelessly linked his optics to the scope, giving him a “down the barrel” view.
He watched the two Orocs as they made the way up, rather ungracefully, onto the roof. Standing up, they let out a roar of triumph. Just as Ivan had predicted, the were solely focused on the Silvian delicacy and grinned at her. Ivan aimed the rifle at the left eye of the Oroc closest to the Silivan. They let out a deep gurgling laugh. Ivan squeezed the trigger of the massive rifle. The roof was illuminated for a billionth of a second. The Oroc’s face caved in, a large spray of bloody mist and mush exploded out the back of the creatures head. The rifle made a deafening crack, sending out a compression wave that could be felt in one’s chest. The rifle but kicked hard against the concrete wall Ivan was sitting with his back to, the barrel flying up nearly fifteen degrees due to the unsecured nature of the shot. Ivan quickly grabbed the knife he had set on the ground.
The still living Oroc cringed in surprise when he had heard the immense noise. The, he looked to his companion to see a gaping hole in the middle of its face. The fresh corpse legs buckled and it began to fall. The Oroc that was still alive jerked his head in the direction of the noise and light just in time to catch the knife that was now flying toward it with its neck. The Blade imbedded a few inches into a patch of scab-less flesh just above its collar bone. It roared in pain and rage, bringing it’s hands up toward it’s neck in reflex. This was when Ivan, who had drawn his other knife and quickly sprinted eight feet, slammed into the top of the beast’s chest with his knees. He made sure to make contact above its center of gravity, causing it to fall backwards. Grabbing a hold of its shoulder, he went with the beast, falling down through the broken stairs and landing on the floor below. The Oroc landed on it’s back and Ivan landed in a crouching position on it’s chest. Quickly lifting up the knife in his hand, he drove the blade through the beast’s right eye. The blade went in all the way to the hilt, piercing into the Oroc’s brain. Ivan held the knife firmly in place as the Oroc struggled and flailed about silently for a second before it fell limp.
Standing up, he lifted up his goggles then pulled his weapons out of the beast and flicked them before sheathing them. Blood flew from them, cleaning the blades slightly. He pushed the newly dead Oroc the extra few feet off the edge of the building. The noise of its descent muffled to him by the constant pattering of the rain. He pulled himself back up onto the roof, and walked over to the fresh body. Grabbing it by the legs, he dragged the near-headless corpse over to the edge and pushed it off with his foot. Then he turned and walked back to where he had been sitting. He lifted his rifle back up to where it was leaning against the wall. Then sat down in the same position he had been sleeping in under the small concrete awning. He checked the time. Still nearly fifteen hours until extraction. He pulled his hood back over his head and shifted his knee up so that he could rest his right arm on top of it. He didn’t pay any attention to the Silvian. Hoping that if he just stayed quite, she would go away.
Setting
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Anez fell back slightly, leaning fully on the small rubble wall behind her. She had found herself once again in a safe time, how long it would last she didn't know, but she treasured these few peaceful moments when everything was seemed at peace. She sighed, only vaguely seeing the man walk back to his spot without saying a word. She wasn't used to this, when she was around Adam there seemed to be someone always talking, whether to him or himself, but it seemed awkward now that only the patter of rain made noises. She kind of liked it, but missed Adam's cussing.
She closed her eyes, her energy finally failing. She fell asleep faster than normal, the rain lulling her asleep. She was cold, tired, and temporarily out of contact of the others. She didn't have a mic because technically she wasn't apart of the soldiers like Adam and the rest, she was just Adam's unofficial partner that tagged along on the more dangerous missions. She always joked that she was that annoying little pest that you couldn't ever get rid of and would always pop up when you were looking for a break. But not this time, this time she was giving herself a break from being a pest. This time she was flipping the table, and wanted to be left alone, just for a few minutes, just till she could actually keep her eyes open, then she would deal with the world.
She closed her eyes, her energy finally failing. She fell asleep faster than normal, the rain lulling her asleep. She was cold, tired, and temporarily out of contact of the others. She didn't have a mic because technically she wasn't apart of the soldiers like Adam and the rest, she was just Adam's unofficial partner that tagged along on the more dangerous missions. She always joked that she was that annoying little pest that you couldn't ever get rid of and would always pop up when you were looking for a break. But not this time, this time she was giving herself a break from being a pest. This time she was flipping the table, and wanted to be left alone, just for a few minutes, just till she could actually keep her eyes open, then she would deal with the world.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Hey mom," she had said. Her mother looked up from her book and smiled as she responded with a soft hello. "I just came back to tell you that I'm going out for the night. I think I might hangout at the inn or I don't know wherever my feet lead me I guess." She smiled at her mom as she went into the kitchen. "Mmm, okay. Just don't get into any trouble." She warned her daughter. "I'll try not too." Levan grabbed a cookie from off the plate on the counter before making an exit from her house.
She wandered around the corner that which her house sat on. She ate the cookie as she thought to herself about all the things she wanted to do but couldn't because her life was bound to the peaceful surroundings of her home with her people. She wanted excitement, day to day battles with always undefeated foes. She wanted the life she always read about in her history books. The battles fought until the end and a person left standing victorious. She wanted that. She walked slowly as she approached the inn; it had no name people just called it the inn because that is where those who didn't want to return home, slept. She pushed opened the door with a heavy sigh as she walked towards her favorite seat. It was a seat by the window. She would sit there for hours just daydreaming about the exciting life she could have. You'd think that her being Amaranth and her father abandoning her would give her somewhat of an exciting life, no it didn't. She shrugged at her own thoughts as she mumbled to herself "One day I will go where the humans are and I will fight along side them... I just don't know when."
She wandered around the corner that which her house sat on. She ate the cookie as she thought to herself about all the things she wanted to do but couldn't because her life was bound to the peaceful surroundings of her home with her people. She wanted excitement, day to day battles with always undefeated foes. She wanted the life she always read about in her history books. The battles fought until the end and a person left standing victorious. She wanted that. She walked slowly as she approached the inn; it had no name people just called it the inn because that is where those who didn't want to return home, slept. She pushed opened the door with a heavy sigh as she walked towards her favorite seat. It was a seat by the window. She would sit there for hours just daydreaming about the exciting life she could have. You'd think that her being Amaranth and her father abandoning her would give her somewhat of an exciting life, no it didn't. She shrugged at her own thoughts as she mumbled to herself "One day I will go where the humans are and I will fight along side them... I just don't know when."
- 28 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
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View All » Add Character » 14 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Dimitri Nitrohlca
"There was an Oroc here, but it's gone now."
Tesla Herot
"If you'd keep your head on straight you wouldn't get in trouuble"
Adam Jensen
"The fuck are you looking at? You're as ugly as they are!"
Nyx Belmont
[In Progress}
Cain
King of the Orocs
Trending
Dimitri Nitrohlca
"There was an Oroc here, but it's gone now."
Tesla Herot
"If you'd keep your head on straight you wouldn't get in trouuble"
Adam Jensen
"The fuck are you looking at? You're as ugly as they are!"
Nyx Belmont
[In Progress}
Cain
King of the Orocs
Most Followed
Tesla Herot
"If you'd keep your head on straight you wouldn't get in trouuble"
Dimitri Nitrohlca
"There was an Oroc here, but it's gone now."
Nyx Belmont
[In Progress}
Adam Jensen
"The fuck are you looking at? You're as ugly as they are!"
Cain
King of the Orocs
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The Years After
1, 2by Seraph on Thu Dec 08, 2011 3:12 am
- 30 Replies
- 1591 Views
- Last post by Fredalice
on Sat Jan 14, 2012 12:43 pm
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The Years After
Most recent OOC posts in ElvenBane
Re: [OOC] The Years After
I would like to apologize, Ive been dealing with a lot of mental health problems lately.
Re: [OOC] The Years After
TWiliXDragon, you could try what I did, and just be wandering around somewhere, then get into interaction with another character.
Usually works.
Usually works.
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Heads up that I might have some trouble posting from next Wednesday to Sunday. Going on a trip and I don't know the state of the internet I will have. I'll be sure to try an wrap up any major char interaction going on before that time and go into a soft hibernation mode, so I don't hold up the RP. If I somehow end up holding it up though, feel free to control my char to get them out of the immediate action. Just do you best if it comes to that, I'm fine with it.
Re: [OOC] The Years After
I'd just like to say that Seraph is an incredible writer. Your work is very creative, descriptive, and detailed and shows a high level of literacy.
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Yo, question. Is age on char sheet meant to be the age at the beginning, or the age at the war of cries? Also, whats the general plan as far as the flow goes? Gonna be like a time skip after some intro posts?
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Since this war will progress over a period of time, All augments of non-essential characters will be base level and can be upgraded at intervals. This involves the growth of Dragons and the unlocking of technology for humans. Below is the predecessor to the Leviathan-- The Basilisk. This is to prevent simply over-powering characters too early in the RP
The Princess has, after much been deliberation been awarded to Tesla Herot.
Basic Mech Unit
At the start of the war there is only the Basilisk war droid, known in Mando'a as the Bes'uliik or "iron beast", an intelligent battle droid.
Length
10 meters
Height
5 meters
(some variations omitted the heavier weaponry in favor of performance)
The pilot could secure his personal weapons to the droid
The Princess has, after much been deliberation been awarded to Tesla Herot.
Basic Mech Unit
At the start of the war there is only the Basilisk war droid, known in Mando'a as the Bes'uliik or "iron beast", an intelligent battle droid.
Length
10 meters
Height
5 meters
- Armament
- Laser cannons
- Pulse-wave cannons
- Shatter missile launchers
- Shockwave generating rods
- Brawling claws
(some variations omitted the heavier weaponry in favor of performance)
The pilot could secure his personal weapons to the droid
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Man... I read the description for Ivan... and something about it just screamed Darth Vader :P
Re: [OOC] The Years After
I am having a contest between Little and Mistletoe to see who will be playing the daughter. After that we will be starting!
Re: [OOC] The Years After
This sounds like an excellent well thought out RP and I'm seriously thinking of joining. I would like to know if your still wanting people to join, either way I'll make a character, and go from there. Hope to hear back soon.
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Was wondering if there was a distinct plan for the plotline of the human soldiers? If not I had the idea that they could make up a small squad that would have orders to assassinate Cain. Make sure he doesn't unite the Orocs against the humans. After seeing him bring an Amaranth citadel, the leaders of the humans would likely be quite afraid of him.
I had planned on making a cybernetic-heavy assassin/solder that was "designed" to take out HVT's for the humans. That is what initially spawned the idea. Does it sound like it has any merit?
I had planned on making a cybernetic-heavy assassin/solder that was "designed" to take out HVT's for the humans. That is what initially spawned the idea. Does it sound like it has any merit?
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Wudgeous wrote:Really hope you asked AverageBear before yoinking her character skeleton!
But other than that, looks cool enough. Not joining, but looks cool enough.
I haven't been able to get in touch with Average, unfortunately. She has yet to fill me in full so my return to the RP you and I are in.
digress; for the "Character sheet set-up, the frivolity of claiming something as the 'skeleton' of basic character information is trivial. It's not like I stole her idea, simply put, I took out what I didn't need and kept what I did as far as what I needed to know about the character in-depth. Although I may have to add minor corrections. It was never my intention to rob her of something she created. I love ya'll and I do not seek to compete. I've used very similar format in the past even before I met Average.
Re: [OOC] The Years After
Okay, I am just now getting to this because A I have health problems and B. I am very involved with my church, learning their new sound system.
A lot of the human characters have melee weaponry--which is fine for the most part but you all have to understand something. The adaptive skin is one of their biggest weapons. If not killed completely, it creates callouses that turned their skin to an almost stone like state. I need to emphasize that their strength, although while great, depending of course which type of Oroc. No one can single take down scores of the enemy, nor defeat a Beserker or Titan without help. We all should remember these once-human beings nearly exterminated both human and Silvian populations. Humans have fire arms for a reason--to keep out of reach of these cannibals way.
Airanea, would you like to be the "princess" of the story? If so, PM me for the details.
A lot of the human characters have melee weaponry--which is fine for the most part but you all have to understand something. The adaptive skin is one of their biggest weapons. If not killed completely, it creates callouses that turned their skin to an almost stone like state. I need to emphasize that their strength, although while great, depending of course which type of Oroc. No one can single take down scores of the enemy, nor defeat a Beserker or Titan without help. We all should remember these once-human beings nearly exterminated both human and Silvian populations. Humans have fire arms for a reason--to keep out of reach of these cannibals way.
Airanea, would you like to be the "princess" of the story? If so, PM me for the details.