Echo "Rokket" Rhorer's Story

There was quiet in the forest, the gentle stirrings of the usual forest life hushed by the dead of winter. The Orcs that had moved in were probably not helping matters either. Echo pondered what to do about the stronghold of green-skinned brutes as she wandered barefoot through the snow. She loved the chill of cold, but had been wandering for a few hours and would likely wander for a few more so she had relented and cast a warding over herself to endure the cold. The fallen snow crunched underneath her feet, creating a quiet music as she walked. Her partner and life-long friend, walked alongside her and added his own muted melody.

The Spear of Lugh walked slowly alongside her, having been given the form of a large stuffed bear, almost a full foot taller than her and much wider. "Sigh, nobody gets me Lugh, it's always 'Ahh stop stabbing me' or 'i actually would prefer not to be on fire' it's such a bore!" She threw her hands up in mock desperation, and let herself fall into the snow. "If you really want to wow a girl you got to show her a good time. Take her out for a bite to eat, and nothing's hotter than someone who can catch their own food." Her mind began to wander to the last time she dismembered and ate something sentient with a friend. Too long...

Lugh, bent down to pick Echo up, throwing her over his stuffed shoulder. She was one hundred and thirty pounds of ferocity, but he picked her up like she was the stuffed one. "I came to ride and slay dragons, and not necessarily in that order..." She huffed a stray piece of hair from her face and enjoyed the gentle rocking of the stuffed bear's stride. She had run into Orcs earlier, four of them. When one of them dared lay a hand on her, she lost herself in a fit of passion. Thinking about the way the first one's blood misted onto her face as Lugh barely opened his external carotid artery. She could almost still taste the iron on her tongue from gasping when the blood hit her delicate little cheeks. The thought, even then, did not fail to excite her. "Now my heart's all a flutter.... Lugh where is everyone...? We haven't seen any thing worth killing for miilllesss!" She turned the last word into a groan as she began to pretend beat at the bear's back with her fists.

Like a broken spell there was an explosion from not to far off. Is that.... Do I hear... "Is someone attacking the Orc stronghold, alone!?" She bit at her lip as her eyes rolled back slightly. "Some random darling is after my own heart. Cut it out and serve it up to them on a platter, Lugh, darling take me to my knight in shining armor!" The stuffed bear nodded its assent and began to sprint, only around fourty or so miles an hour, it was impressive if you considered the fact that stuffed bears dont usually move.

Rokket could barely contain herself, and was fidgeting with nervous excitement, when she noticed a little boy lost in the winter forest. He looks entirely too comfortable to be human... Shame, children are so tender. She winked at the boy as the bear carried her past, and barely whispered "Let's play ?" She conjured a tulip, bright pink, and threw it to the boy, as the bear continued to carry her further and further away.

Today might prove to be a little fun after all Echo day-dreamed to herself, thinking about how bland things had been up until then. "I could use a shot of something fierce to jolt my senses!" She clapped a fist into her palm, and started nodding enthusiastically to herself. A boy that smelled of nothing artificial; the color of blood. So shortly after I was complaining too! I'm not one to test fate... A finger idly found its way to her hair, as she began to twirl a lock between her fingers. Lightning, a dazzling pink cascade, and the thunderous aftershock ~ "My Knight has certainly outdone themselves this time," she blushed as thoughts of her knight raced through her head. "Lugh, pick up the pace!"

The stuffed bear began to heave its legs, pushing almost seventy miles per hour as it barreled directly passed a flaming tree. Lugh turned to face someone clad in shining armor, just in time for it's back to barrel into the gate of the stronghold, breaking through the barrier like it was nothing and falling awkwardly to the ground. It quickly stood back up, and stepped out of the wreckage, depositing Rokket on the ground. "Hiya!" She giggled, waving to the knight in shining armor. She's more beautiful than I could have ever imagined... she thought to herself, inhaling deeply to get the girl's scent. Her heart raced looking at the impossibly quick human; after a moment she remembered herself and curtsied to the Knight.

THe Orc Stronghold was a place that exuded terror and fear. It contained a large number of Orcs, included Orcs that had evolved into a higher species, and there were various problematic enemies such as Orc Mages and others. In fact, there were several types of Orcs that went entirely unnoticed.

So a single person appearing from nowhere was a shock to them.

The Orcs were taken a bit aback as a woman, as Ayla, appeared in front of their eyes. They truly had no idea of why such a thing was happening, nor had it really cared for them. Orcs were a race of entirely males. They reproduced by using the species of other humanoid monsters at times, but what they loved the most was females of other sentient species such as humans, elves, or dwarves as they had a higher chance of producing stronger and more advanced Orcs such as Orc Mages.

However, the moment that fist was sent, the orc that would be pummeled into it would have his body skip through the gate and across the ground until it finally stopped. Because it was a normal orc that was caught by surprise, it had been sufficient to break it's neck from the various impacts on the ground. Orcs were tougher then humans, but they could still be killed.

Almost immediately though, another Orc on watch raised a horn. First was the signal for enemy attack, and the other was...something rather vulgar. After all, they could not help but view Ayla as someone who they could use at their pleasure.

As this horn was raised, countless Orcs of all types emerged to fight Ayla. Orc Mages and Archers took the high ground and prepared to bombard her with extremely accurate arrows and magic that would chase after her. Orc Knights and Generals wearing heavy armor and using real weapons would surround her and try to cut her to pieces. Although not all the Orcs could arrive at once, one could not help but notice their sheer number.

However, there were a few Orcs in the back that looked even stronger then all the others. Instead of carelessly charging at Ayla, they planned to observe her and then make a plan accordingly. In other words, they would use their enhanced orc eyes, observe how Ayla fought and acted, and then fight her accordingly with the support of the Orc Arch-Mages they had.

Meanwhile, two Orc scouting parties that had heard the horn were now returning from two separate directions. Either fortunately or unfortunately though, their paths ended up being right through a few certain people.

Crimson came across several Orc Ninjas, a very bizzare mutation of Orc. That was because they had a few special abilities, were far more agile then normal Orcs, could move stealthily, and had a diverse skillset. They were truly a higher species of Orc.

And once they found Crimson, when they noticed him they all had wicked smiles on their faces. Orcs did not mind tormenting any living creature, and had a very malicious reputation.

Crimson however could sense that, he could sense their Concept of Creation. A vulgar and wicked species.

"You people...are mean jerks...I should exterminate you all".

Speaking in a childish voice, Crimson just smiled innocently at them as he came to a decision. He was not angry, well he was sort of angry at the cruelty of their Concept, but he believed it would be best if he had some fun while cleaning the area of such a bad Concept. The Orc Ninjas that moved faster then most of their race charged towards him, but he brought out his Scythe while stepping to the side and cut one clean through.

"After I finish with you all, I should get rid of the rest of...you....oh hey, a pink tulip. I didn't think those grew here. Well, now I definently have to make you leave the home of this flower".

A lifetime of wars, years lost alone in an alien jungle, and a planet worth of corpses to her name did nothing to prepair Ayla for Origin. She came from a mess of grit, and blood, a place where tanks, and mechanization were the kings. Bullets, and the scent of cordite were her medium, not extremely fast, seemingly sentient teddy bears. The deep, orange-ish red visor of her helm concealed her expression of horror.

Every agent knew just how surreal it was to watch a "carefully" laid plan come to ruins, but watching a massive stuffed bear come sprinting out of the wild blue yonder was a bit much.

The fact that Ayla was still in full swing made it worse, the entire world was moving at a snail's pace around her. She watched each step the bear took, each heave of it's chest. Her head turned, completely ignoring the Orc she had sent flying in favour of the newcomer.

"Holy shit." Ayla was free to speak, right now anything she said was going far beyond audible perception. "I've been here for three days, and now a teddy bear storms in? Hell no."

The bear's back finally connected with the gate, and the speedster watched with amusement as the slapdash structure came apart. She tapped her foot at over a thousand beats per minute, impatiently waiting while the creature crashed to the ground, and picked itself back up. Her eyebrow cocked as it put what appeared to be a person down.

"Hiya!" The high-pitched voice sounded horrible at the speed Ayla mantained, and as the newcomer curtsied she decelerated herself.

"Uh..." Ayla kind of stammered, her normally regal barring missing. "Hi?" She offered a shrug, and if on cue the other Orc butted in via horn.

"Oh, good goddamn." She moaned.

Ayla shot forward in the span of a blink, the energy she procuded created a violent pink lightning storm in the passage way, and a powerful blast of air trailing behind. The pink streak that she'd become blew past the bear, past a squad of Orcs, and blistered its way through the camp. It seemed like her method was shifting from "methodical" to "impulse" as fast as she could run.

---

"Hi there!" She shouted, coming to a skidding stop in front of a fire pit.

Six orcs, tall for their kind, sat huddled around it. Their pale green hides all bore a webway of scars, tusks were chipped, and their armor was patchwork. Ayla immediately noticed that part of the middle Orc's armor was Gorgon made, which meant they were berserkers. The mighty, raging brutes who collected pieces from the fallen like trophies. She shuddered a little, but remained glib.

"Can I borrow that?" She gestured to the pit innocently.

"Wot.." grunted one of the Orcs. He pushed himself up, standing at nearly twice Ayla's height with a wicked smirk. "Did a fuckin' 'uman bitty just ask for me meats?"

The other Orcs chuckled, a sadistic rumble of a sound, and began getting up one by one. The massive weapons casually slung over their hips made Ayla a bit nervous, but she stood her ground.

"Uh-huh, she did."

The Orcs chuckled again, and the talkative one made a rather rude gesture in her direction.

"We got plenty a meats!" He roared, the others joining his vulgarites. "Step up!"

Voooom

In half a second she raced past them, grabbed the roasting spit, and returned to get exact spot. The Orcs, all of them, just blinked.

"Wot.."

"Thanks!" She waved the still flaming stick around a bit. "I'll bring it right back." Ayla gave the berserkers a wink they couldn't see, and bolted before they became slavering heaps of bloodlust.

Her pink bolts disappeared almost instantly, and the blast-back from her launch knocked the remaining food onto the ground, and extinguished the fire.

"What a bitch." Grumbled an Orc.

---

She wove her way past the Orcs who decided to rush the gate, taking a careful inventory of each on the way. The headcount for the immediate response was in the double-digits, and a flicker of worry swept through Ayla's heart. She figured whatever the girl, and bear were could handle a few orcs, maybe even a few dozen. A platoon, though, a cabal of mages?

Ayla ducked under the arm of an Orc who decided to feature his orders, she really didn't like how quickly they were organizing.

"Excuse me," she chirped, appearing on front of him. "Can you point me to the gate?" She rubbed the back of her neck in mock-embarrassment as the monsters around her began to converge. "I think I lost my way.."

The brute locked eyes with her visor, his throbbing a deeper, darker red than before. With surprising speed he drew his axe, and bellowed.

"KILL HER!"

"Really, guy?" She wiped a thick string of Orc-saliva off her helmet with a growl. "That's just rude."

Like a coiled snake she struck, a lifetime of martial arts training taking over as her rocket of a fist smashed into the brute's throat. He crunched under the pressure, a sickening, loud sound like ribs cracking as neck gave way. He reached for the pain instinctively, and as he began to suffocate the woman in pink just nodded.

"Better, now if you'll be so kind, I have a delivery to make." As soon as the last syllable passed her lips, Ayla was gone in a flash of lightning.

The bolt shot around a corner, handling it like it was in rails, and stormed toward a the broken gate. The woman inside gabe the clock of her H.U.D a quick glance as she approached, if it was accurate she'd been gone for seven whole seconds. It made her smile as she lifted the roasting skewer, centering it on the back of the second gate-guard's skull.

"This might be mes- Holy fuck!"

The sharp wooden pole collided dead center at Ayla's extreme speed. It easily tore its way clear through him, jutting out the other side with a violent gout of blood. Ayla snuck a peak around the brute, still clutching the stick inbedded in him. She really hoped she hadn't given the bear a gore-shower.

"I thought he looked kinda hungry.." She trailed off, offering a nervous giggle.

Rokket's face flushed bright red as she dreamily looked up at her knight. Impossibly well-built, like someone has been rooting around in your body. Making changes... Oh she seems put off.... A horn sounded by a nearby Orc knocked her from her day dreaming, the thoughts about someone rooting around in her Knight leaving her envious as the blur sped away, Rokket's eyes barely able to greedily follow the pink flash as she raced over to a fire-pit, admiring the beautiful way she moved like a perfect Sidhe knight. Her supple second skin shined luxuriously, the photons cascading beautifully off it and Echo drank in every second of the wild melody.

"Oops, Lugh it seems I disrupted her tempo at the worst moment," her lower lip quivered as she pretended to fight back tears. The stuffed bear took an arrow from a specialized Orcish bow, the arrow being more like a short spear as it slammed into the bear's back and clattering to the ground. "Okay, I like, was NOT done pouting." Her eyes glowered with rage at the quickly assembling horde of green-skinned oafs. She quickly sought out the one who was knocking another arrow, and with a thought the stuffed bear became the long vines of climbing roses, wrapping carefully up and around Rokket's arm. The vines caught another arrow, only inches from Rokket's face and she eyed another archer by the first.

"Return thyself to the cycle of providence, the five elements to elements and sever the links woven between falsehoods and truth," her arm glowered, as she chirped off the practiced phrase in Sylvan in barely a half-second. The roses on her arm quivered, petals falling and drifting on the wind, the scent of roses filling the air. A bright flash of white light engulfed the Orc archers, and more than a few of their nearby fellows, vaporizing them and dissipating as suddenly as it had appeared. Wind billowed slightly, as the spell simply dismantled what it touched, breaking them down to their base elements and creating an air pressure difference. It wasn't her favorite method of murder, but she figured I have bodies to spare this time ~

By now the Orcs were fully mobilizing, spewing off insults and threats of a vicious raping. I doubt they could even pleasure me! What was practically an entire platoon of heavily armored Orcs soldiers, was approaching and Echo's heart had began to race with blood-lust. She snapped her fingers, the rose vines being replaced in only an instant by thousands of floating dirks. They were so numerous they almost created a bubble of floating steel as they hovered between her and would be attackers. She sent them out cautiously, using half to shield herself and the other to find the exposed fleshy bits of the Orc armor; directing them like an Orchestra Conductor, as they swam through the air to a rhythm only she could hear.

The second guard stood in a stunned silence, his mouth unable to form the words his small brain was so desperately trying to conjure. He dropped the horn and fumbled for his ax, drawing it and and swinging down with all his might onto the cloud of daggers. The enchanted metal ax clanged uselessly off of Lugh, and the Orc raised his arm for another desperate heave.

"You's gonna be a good fuckin' onc-" The Orc was cut off with a brilliant squelch and a rain of viscera as a wooden bolt exploded through him. He dropped his ax, clutching at his newfound piercing in bewilderment, as if unaware he were already dead. The dirks caught most of the gore as the Orc's intestines vacated the premises, however they could do nothing to shield her from the blood that leaked through the cloud of dirks, like a sadistic scarlet rain. It almost brought a tear to the sidhe girl's eye. "Such a beautiful and thoughtful gift from the Knight I just met..." Rokket's heart raced, threatening to tear free from her chest that it might profess it's undying infatuation with the graceful stranger.

My sweet ? The dirks became a single long spear, and Echo gripped it halfway up it's haft. "Sciath," she spoke, casting a defensive abjuration over herself before launching herself into the air at the nearest Orc, driving Lugh down into his neck at an angle, her feet perched on his shoulders as she used the spear-head to stir his trachea. It clutched at it's throat desperately, watching her as she sprang off him; spirally three times backwards and with a point of her index finger the pixie's spear flew from his neck, squelching into the eye of the nearest onlooking Orc, his close friend Kleg. His compatriot fell unceremoniously and the sudden finality of it made the Orc gasp, still clutching at his ruined throat, the blood filling his lungs in a cruel instant.

Rokket landed on her feet, raising her hands like a gymnast, and imagining an applause. "Oh!" the pixie exclaimed, having found herself on the wall of the stronghold. "I put a little too much gusto into that one ♡" Lugh, the spear reappeared at it's mistress's side, seemingly phasing in from nowhere and dispersing into a wall of dirks. Now where did he get off to... The thought started to crescendo as she pressed a hand to her forehead, exaggeratedly searching for the red-haired boy she had given the tulip to.

WHat had to be dozens of Orcs were watching Ayla with now murderous, and still vulgar, eyes. However, one might note their formation was odd. There was no single line they were in now, in other words they were adapting to her tactics with each minute, each second. The Orcs organized themselves more and more, far more then Orcs usually would. It was clear now, they had commanders, a leader, that had organized them.

And then, large amounts of magic bolts rained down from the sky right at Ayla! At the same time, other strange darker bolts were shot out from elsewhere, out of Ayla's sight and began to raise the dead in a strange fashion. The Orcs came back from the dead for sure, but something about it seemed differently. They certainly did not seem like normal zombies, they looked like they were fully raised from the dead. Their souls had been forcibly pulled, their death negated. That was because of an object the Orc King had recently acquired from a shipment they recently raided. It had surprisingly poor security, perhaps it was a black market convoy. But what was contained was an extremely powerful Necronomicon, it was so old it wouldn't be strange to call it the oldest in the world...no, the universe.

And so the Orcs raised from the dead perfectly back to being alive, and would continue to create trouble. In fact, several spare resurrection orbs floated around, ready to fly into any orc that died immediately to revive them.

And finally, an Orc appeared at exceptional speed next to Ayla and swung down a greatsword at a speed unseen by any other Orc. This was an Orc Champion, someone who served an Orc King. An extremely dangerous species of Orc.

Meanwhile, as Crimson cut through another Orc Ninja, he felt a massive disturbance....a violation of souls. Whatever had just been done, they had just infringed on and insulted his father with what they did.

"Looks like I gotta do my job as a Reaper now".

Crimson squatted down, and then used the force of him pushing off the ground to jump high into the air and land on a tree branch that overlooked the whole exterior of the fort. That was when he saw a woman surrounded by Orcs, as they maintained a strange formation and launched multiple attacks from all sides on Ayla. Crimson noticed that the Orcs seemed to be the one causing a disturbance. Although he did not see who had whatever had infringed upon the Reaper Domain, he jumped down and cut two Orc Mages that had been firing Tracking Magic Bolts at a distance one after another at Ayla, stopping their rampage.

And that was when he noticed the others as well. Unfortunately, Crimson could be a bit oblivious at times, so it was not surprising for him to totally miss the existence of another unless they directly communicated with him, or was someone he considered an enemy.

"Now...where is that object?"

A flurry of rage, and steel descended on Ayla. The only reason she had bothered to decelerate in the first place was to worn the other woman - who clearly didn't need it. As soon as the curtain of daggers began to coalesce, she took a deep breath, and with a harsh whipping of the wind she took off. She opened her eyes just in time to watch the very last dagger be absorbed into the spear.

Magic was so alien to her, yet so beautiful, and so compelling it drew her up short.

CRACK

A massive slab of steel, crudely hammered into a savage semblance of an axe, and enchanted with extreme weight, connected with the back of her helmet. Ayla shrieked, her forehead smashing against the visor as she went hurtling foreward. Desperately she attempted to flip herself before she fell, but it was pointless, and she hit the stone wall face first. The visor cracked on impact, sending shards of glass straight into her face, but the suit otherwise kept her from broken bones.

"Fuck!" She hissed, pushing herself from the wall with a shake of her head. "I guess standing still is still a ba-"

CRACK

The Orc had persued, and as his prey rebounded he leapt wildly at her. The brute brought his axe down dead center in the middle of her back with both hands, screaming wildly as it drove her to the ground. She twitched a little when she fell, and fearing his new prize was about to vanish again he dropped on-to her, knees first. He howled again, his bloodlust boiling over when he heard something inside the suit break.

It was three of Ayla's ribs, and she stifled a scream as she felt the monster's weight settle. This had gone too far.

Trapped under the weight of a hulk she had only one option, and it brought a smile to her lips. The Orc was enraged by now, he had tossed his weapon aside, emboldened by his well-armed comrades. It was extremely difficult to focus, and Ayla did everything she could to block him out, to listen to the true sound of his wreteched body. She just needed a few precious seconds.

Eyes jamming shut, she focused on the sound of his heart, of his blood vessles flowing, his breath, every aspect that contributed to his organic structure. It was slow, for her, at first, but she managed to managed to piece it together note by note. By the time she had it, she realized the orc was trying to pry off one of the outer plates on the back of her suit, as if it would do anything. A little doubt crept in as she made up her mind, she had never matched frequencies with a living being before, but it was the best idea she had.

"Hey, greenskin," she coughed, choking the words out around a mouthful of blood. When he didn't even grunt in response, she just smiled wider. "Okay," she chuckled, "I tried to warn you.."

Ayla began to shake violently, and her captor mistook it for resistance. Like the idiot she had hoped the Orc was, he tried to put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting up. Two things happened in the span of as many seconds, first the Orc's big, green hand went right through her, and then it exploded. Blood, bone, and ribbons of flesh took to the air at high velocity, and the assailant jumped back, howling in pain.

"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?" He demanded, clutching the stump of his arm, and staring murder at the woman in the dirt.

"NEVERMIND THAT," barked the taller Orc behind him. "JUST GRAB THAT SLA-"

VOOOOMM

Pink lightning flashed, blinding the Orcs around her as Ayla skipped straight to her full speed. She was up, and on her feet in milliseconds, which meant each Orc had just enough time to clutch at his eyes before they died. She froze to survey the first wave of reinforcements, this time making sure not to drop into normal-speed. She desperately searched for a plan, but fury consumed her, and the new playful persona she carried cracked.

Inside was the same brutal, unrelenting Ayla. The goal had shifted in her mind, in her soul. Survival replaced with annihilation.

She wasted no more time in movements, now blitzing from Orc, to Orc like a murderous pinball. Her fists flew like bullets, hammering the orcs without mercy as she danced around a hail of axes, and swords. In her slow motion world it was no great feat, save for the sheer number of attackers. Ayla felt her forehead begin to overheat again as it struggled to calculate a path around so many weapons.

It was a thing of beauty really, with no one to see it, because she no longer slowed down to deliver her blows.

The lightning arced around the field, and each time it collided with an Orc a broken, bleeding, and huddled mass was left behind. Uppercuts broke jaws, severed tongues, and sent the scum reeling, roundhouses left them bent nearly in half, and pushed shattered ribs through lungs. Everytime an Orc blinked a comrade was hit with the force of a freight train, and fell to the side.

A retreat had started much to the commander's fury, and it looked like Ayla was about to really play hero. Until the first arcane missle hit.

She wheeled around, staring at the scorched ground mere inches behind her. Her blood ran cold as she realized her H.U.D had been dead since she hit the wall. Somehow it made her eye hurt more to think about it, but being cut off was far worse. This meant absolutely no missle detection, no Overwatch feed, no comms, it was old school from here on out. Not that she had much time to feel sorry for herself, three more bolts screeched through the sky above her.

"I seriously want a pay raise.."

She watched carefully, almost happy to see something moving at normal speed for once despite what it meant. Once sure they were trained on her Ayla glanced around, firmly trapped between reorganizing reinforcements, and a volley of arcane death.

"A really, really big pay raise."

She was just about peal out when it happened. The biggest Orc she'd seen yet charged out of the blue, and straight towards her. Her jaw dropped as she watched his legs pump at a completely normal speed, and she braced herself when she saw the blade. Both of her eyes began to glow in response, and as she dropped into a ready stance sparks leapt from them. The last thing she wanted to do was over-exert herself this earlier, but if the choice was exertion, or death she knew her answer.

Inhale, exhale..

The already slow world she occupied ground to a near halt as she focused. Even the freakishly fast Orc was reduced to a near-crawl, and she took a difficult step towards him. She was, for the moment, accelerating her personal time-line, which meant interacting with the world was difficult, like pushing through a hurricane. She almost stopped, she gave herself enough room with a few seconda to avoid the blow, but as she got closer to the creature a new idea came to her.

Quickly she trudged her way over to the Champion, and with only a bit of hesitation she did what she had to.

As soon as she was "safe" she dropped the control of her timeline, leaving the Champion in place just beside where she had been, alone. The creature looked around wildly for a moment, desperately searching for it's prey.

"Where the fuck did sh-"

Twenty-two tracking bolts carved through the sky, dipped down into the tunnel, and unceremoniously crashed right into the Orc. He was obliterated on impact, turned into a fine, red mist, with an unharmed Ayla at the center. She had phased into the savage, not through, turning him into a second suit of armor. She swept a bit of gore from her arms, and shrugged at the befuddled remaining orcs.

"Talk about a role-reversal, huh?" She snorted.

The young Sidhe huntress couldn't quite see the boy composed nearly entirely of crimson, but she could feel him, the ripple he sent in the energy of the world was unmistakable. Seven magical missiles arc through the sky, streaking towards the pixie as she made a show of looking about. Seven dirks flew from the swarm of Lugh encapsulating her, each colliding with an magical missile to defend their mistress. Such a lack of grace from these filthy savages. She furrowed her brow and turned to admire her beautiful knight in shining armor. Her humor, or rather lack of humility had cost her a near concussion and just as Rokket began to admire the beautiful pain she wasn't going to get to inflict on her knight, an Orcish Archmage conjured a spray of lightning that slammed into her cloud and arcing from dirk to dirk, cooking the girl inside like, a bug.

Or at least, it would have, had she not placed a protective abjuration on her a bit earlier. The abjuration overloaded and failed, leaving the five foot nothing young lady to falter. The cloud of dirks stayed suspended for a moment, as if to hold her up as she fell limply backwards, but alas the floating daggers could do nothing to support her weight and they clattered to the ground with her, rolling slightly and then falling from the side of the battlements to the floor inside the fort. Her battered body was scorched and burned, her hair standing awkwardly due to leftover static the chain lightning had produced

A large Orc with a deep scar running down his forehead, through his left eye and tapering down to end at his almost completely square chin, started towards the Sidhe lady. "I like 'em feisty!" He managed to drool out as he shouldered his way through the Orc horde, undoing his pants, and chuckling to himself while thinking about how lucky he was. Craeosh, an Orc Champion who had the honor of killing a wild dragon put a light hand on the drooling Orc as he shouldered past Craeosh. "I don't think she's dead yet..." he warned the simpleton.

The Orc just snorted, his pants around his ankles at this point, and stepping out of his pants he closed the last five feet to Rokket. She still wasn't moving, the dirks that had fallen with her had disappeared into the Ether of Otherworld, and she looked even smaller than usual, curled up and scorched as she was. The Orc chuckled, grabbing her by her hair and picking her up to examine his newly captured trophy.

"That, like, really fucking hurt." The Sidhe girl's eyes shot open the moment one of the filthy savages dares lay a non-consensual hand on her. It wasn't the first time she had been electrocuted but the sheer ecstasy of the pain had taken her by surprise and she found her knees weak, and herself falling to the ground before she had a moment to clear her thoughts. However, the nearly naked Orc grabbing her hair was exactly the thing she had needed to refocus, and she caught the Orc's manhood in a vice-grip.

"Strength of Bull, Grace of Cat, grant me prowess to flense this fat." She screamed the words off in Sylvan, ripping the Orc's manhood from his body before even finishing the incantation. The Orc held her at eye level for a split-second, the reality of what had happened taking too long to process. Before he could react and drop her, she shot her other hand straight into his chest, she hit a rib but her newly transmuted muscles tore past it with ease, creating a delightful crunch as her tiny hands entered the pericardial cavity. She savored the way his heart shuddered with impulses, the blood flowing under her very fingertips, as it leaked out onto her arm. The Orc dropped her, and blood began to leak down onto her shoulder. The Orc stared at her, trying desperately to dislodge her hand from his chest, but she was like a statue of marble and immutable.

"Lapis." She damned the Orc, removing her hand in an instant, as the Orc began to petrify. Curious to see them pull back a soul that never left The thought made her giggle maniacally, and she took a moment to taste the blood on her hand. "The blood of a coward..." She sighed with visible disappointment.

Craeosh's great sword collided unexpectedly with a spear haft. Even more unexpected to the Orc champion, was the way the haft buckled slightly but held. "No ordinary spear haft holds against Wyrm-Cutter," he grunted out. The little girl's hair had settled back down, and with a drop of an Orcish Sausage and a snap of her petite fingers, her burns and scorches were gone.

Lugh jumped up to defend Rokket, forming itself out of Ether with a subconscious thought from the Id of it's master. Craeosh's blade was heavily enchanted, Echo could practically see the arcana woven into it. I'm going to need all my strength for this one ~ Her heart skipped a beat as she finished repairing the damage the lightning had left. Craeosh swept another broad arc, aiming for her head this time and she grabbed Lugh from the air barely in time to use him like a pole and vault herself into the air. She took a moment while ascending to look for her knight. An arrow flew for her, and Rokket caught it, more as a reflex than out of any actual need. The pink blur of foreign armor arced from Orc to Orc, she was doing well, but She's wounded, broken bones at the least. Perhaps even damaged equipment. I shall have to see what aid I can lend ~

The Orc Champion was faster than her, and had magic on his side. would need to respond in kind. Her honeyed lips parted,"Festina." She could feel her body begin to lighten, her perception of the world causing everything to seem like it was moving slightly slower, though it wasn't. Her jump hit an apex, almost one hundred feet off the ground. Her knight had gotten back into her momentum, But however will my lovely little creature deal with the magic missiles? The Orcs had formed a small organized circle beneath her and Craeosh sat in the middle of it, boasting to the crowd how quickly he'd make this fairy bitch his pet pixie. Since when do greenskins use tactics?

"Darling fate, connect my path with my destination that I might tempt you greater." She calmly trilled the words out, summoning her spear into both hands, and beginning a free-fall. Arrows and magic missiles lazily chased her, never able to catch her at this speed. She broke normal human terminal velocity, thanks to her magical transmutations helping her bend physics; and when her last spell finished, and she found herself suddenly re-oriented in space but still with the acceleration breaking terminal velocity put behind her spear thrust, Craeosh simply exploded. Lugh spun down creating two full rotations in the time between spear-tip entering the Orc skull and the spear-tip leaving the Orc's skill, and the nearly 11,000 newtons of force cause Orc's head to simply pop like a balloon. Rokket couldn't even admire her handiwork, as she was left breathless at the sight of an Orc being vaporized only to leave behind her darling knight. Such a visceral aesthetic ♥

After having eliminated some of the Orc Mages on the side that had been bombarding Ayla with magic projectiles, which had also stopped their perfect cage they had her locked in, he had ended up watching the battle. Part of it was because he was childishly engaged with Ayla's fight, and sometimes even went and mimicked her punches and kicks. But he was also studying the movement of the souls, to locate the perversion of death.

This was not normal resurrection. Normally, an enemy would die and then be brought back from the dead. And technically, that would be what it looked like to the two Champions that fell in front of Ayla and Echo. But actually, Crimson could see it through his eyes as a Reaper. They never really died at all. The link between soul and body was still there. At first, Crimson though it was their souls that flew out, and then came back in. A never ending cycle of resurrection. If it was that, it wouldn't be as bad. But Crimson had felt something off, and while he remembered that, he also realized this was different.

Now that he was closer, sitting on one of the walls inside the fortress, he could see it. Not only was this Necronomicon preventing death, it was hiding them from death. It was an insult of the highest order, and something that would throw the entire universe out of whack. It was something that needed to be removed.

The number of Orcs made Crimson a bit worried, but he raised his scythe which was bigger then him still. Crimson normally was not one who ever did work, and was rarely serious. He was the boy who was sweet, lovable, and kind, and who would spread the joy of life to all he encountered. But now...possibly for the first time in his life, he was extremely angry.

At this rate, the Orcs could possibly overwhelm the woman. The only reason the Orcs Crimson killed had stayed dead was because they were further away from the source, and because Crimson who was a Reaper killed them. Crimson's ability as a Reaper was faster then how the spell could reach them, so their souls were already purified and sent away. But, all of those Orcs...well, he wanted to prevent anything happening that would let the perversion get away. So Crimson decided to take action.

And meanwhile, surely enough all the Orcs that Ayla killed reformed in front of her tougher and stronger then ever. Their bodies regenerated, the light returned to their eyes, and they reformed around her. They had the toughness of orcs, the fierceness of orcs, they were being led by an Orc who used strategy and led them, and were now being enhanced by Orcs who was using support and enhancement magic on them.

And to make matters worse, one had to remember this was Origin. Not only did they possess magic and monsters, but also advanced technology. And so, several Orcs came out with assault rifles they had stolen from humans and were about to shoot at Ayla. There were also Orcs like that responding to Echo, they were going to surround her and kill her, and if she tried to escape she would have to go towards the bullets and get killed that way.

Also, both the guns and bullets were enchanted, so one could not apply the logic of normal bullets to them.

And yet, in oen of the main groups that came out, with half of them about to shoot Ayla while the others next to them were just passing to go towards Echo, suddenly a figure in dark clothing with a dash of red hair appeared in the middle while swinging around a huge scythe. It cut through all the Orcs, and they all suddenly split in two as their bodies collapsed. It was an incredible fear that Crimson had done...

Shiza, they must have Orc Arch-Mages...those enhancements were tough. And they had armor on, in addition to normal orc toughness, that was also enchanted. And to think things stronger then these guys still exist on Origin...well, I guess I will show off to power myself up...

Crimson did not let it show that he used more stamina then he thought he would, although admittedly it was nothing serious it had been more then he expected, and stood up while he looked over to the King of the Orcs who looked at him with shock...and a vulgar look. Orcs really are a vulgar species after all, although maybe it could not be helped as it was an only male species.

"Attention scum who would pervert my father, Death itself. I am the Master Reaper, and the son of Death, Crimson Reaper! For your blatent disrespect of the natural laws imposed on this universe, I shall be taking that...perversion...you have acquired, and I will be slaughtering all who get in my way as a Reaper who maintains the balance!"

Several of the Orcs just laughed at Crimson's speech, but for those who could sense power, and even more those who could understand and sense the power of Ideas and Concepts, they would notice that what Crimson had done was just increase the strength of his own Concept. As he was born from two Concepts, by announcing himself like that which you would not normally see in reality, it actually boosted the existence and power of his Concept and made it stronger, which meant his own power would increase. In other words, every word he just uttered boosted his ability.

Several Orcs who did not sense or understand this went after him while laughing vulgarly, but Crimson moved even faster. Ayla who was a master of Momentum herself could notice that the speed he had been at before when he killed those Orcs was him at his max limit, and yet now was moving beyond that and directly went after the Orc King and the Arch-Mage who had hidden himself near the Orc King.

But perhaps as expected of the Orc King, he drew a sword which radiated magic energy and managed to defend against the blow as he ordered one Arch-Mage to blow him away, while he ordered the other to work with the other Orcs and finish Ayla off and then help him defeat this boy. The Orc King, being the strongest, wisest, and most powerful of the Orcs, knew both Ayla and Crimson were threats, and demanded that the Orcs focus solely on Ayla and then after she was dead kill Crimson, with only the few Orcs who were still running out to help deal with Crimson and the other threat instead.

Delay the two while they finish off one completely, that was the plan. And with the power of the Necronomicon, it was a method that should guarantee victory even when it was already certain without it. However...

"Flames of life, recall the prize!"

Crimson flames wrapped around the Necronomicon and carried it inside Crimson's jacket, storing it in a pocket that should have been too small for it.

With that, the Orc Champions the other two were facing would not revive again.

Ayla took a step forward, and as soon as her foot would've touched the soil her sense of reality shifted without warning. A giant, pulsating portal opened up underneath her, wreathed in flames, and with no visible end. Before she could even react, she fell straight into it, a scream welling up in her chest. It slammed shut behind her with a rumble, leaving everyone else unharmed.

Those among the Orcs able to perceive it blinked, unsure of what to think.

Rokket frolicked in the fields of wildflowers painted red as the surviving centaurs galloped away from her and their dead companions. After seeing her eat the hearts of those she killed, the Centaurs decided that sometimes it was better to cut your losses and run. The Spear of Lugh sat in the severed upper torso of one of the corpses, and as the sidhe girl got further and further away, it simply winked out of existence and reappeared beside her in the form of a small teddy bear, which she promptly grabbed out of the air on her way over to the injured Mishqua.

The creature was whimpering and wounded, about on the verge of passing out. Rokket's eyes narrowed while she debated eating him. "What do you think Lugh?" She asked the teddy bear, before throwing it to the ground next to Davien. "What? I wasn't going to eat him! Just a taste, obviously. It's no fun to kill something that's half-dead.." She knelt over the wounded creature as it murmured in pain. The grass swayed slightly, the fox's fur replying in kind, where it could. As some of the fur was too badly soaked with blood, and just lay pasted upon its skin making the small creature look even smaller.

Hmmm... tasty, and not too much iron. The petite finger rolled on her tongue as Rokket tasted the stranger's life force. The ephemeral taste was gone all too soon and she found herself sticking a finger in Davien's arrow wound. The taste was near intoxicating to the Otherworlder, however the creature protested the sudden pain and fainted. "Hey now, don't die on me." After trying to wake up the creature with a few slaps to the face she remembered not everyone can use magic like she can, and with a snap of her finger, realization hit her. "Poor little thing's all tuckered out!"

Being a kind-hearted fairy and wanting to help the little thing, and not at all because she was terrified of never tasting that particular blood again, she decided upon healing it's wound. The Sidhe had never bothered to find out why healing started to to cause pain, in truth she kind of liked the hellish lances of white hot terror it sent up and down her spine; and the screams of anguish it elicits from the average mortal. When she lived in Otherworld she could heal like normal, even for many moons after leaving. Perhaps I'm just not the same little girl that had never left Otherworld. Regardless the shock was enough to bring Davien too, and the way he howled was very amusing to the Pixie. Not even halfway through the short process, the Mishqua fell back into the graceful embrace of unconsciousness.

Satisfied, the Pixie admired her handiwork. She had overdone it a bit, wounding and healing parts of the fox that hadn't needed attending for the sole purpose of satisfying her sadism. "Lugh, darling. Get him for me?" Without waiting for an answer she began to skip away, leaving the blood-spilled field and the corpses behind. The teddy bear exploded in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a much larger version of itself. The teddy bear bent and picked up Davien, cradling the creature like a small cat as it ran after it's Mistress.

At the arrival of the Reaper, Echo grew momentarily distracted. She noticed her knight disappear, having been unable to keep her Sidhe eye off the knight in shining armor for most of the fight. The darned little thing just fell through a portal, and Rokket was just about to leap after her when it swelled shut. She was at a loss, and didn't think the Reaper had taken her, but she was still royally upset about someone "STEALING MY KNIGHT!" She growled out between clenched teeth.

The first Orc recovered from the appearance of the Reaper and the explosion that was the Orc Craeosh, charging the Pixie, fully expecting her to be completely off guard. His inference was on point, and the war-ax crashed down on her shoulder, rending flesh, bone, and sinew alike and lopping her arm off with a satisfying thud. Rokket turned to acknowledge her attacker, and with a disinterested look she raised a hand and launched a flurry of forty or so dirks directly into the poor Orc's brain, or lack thereof. The Sidhe sighed and her gaze turned to her severed arm, right as she was riddled with bullet holes.

As a child of the Tuatha De, Rokket could was nigh immortal. Even after Lugh had been reincarnated weaker thrice times, poisoned, and then hit with a King-Slaying Spear in the heart did he finally start to die. Even then, daddy still took the sword arm of the man who killed him; and after death no less. Determined not to disappoint her family, Lugh became a small, nigh impenetrable barrier around Echo. The barrier looked to be made of the same fabric as her Teddy Bear, and was equally indestructible.

From within; the fairy girl rapidly ran through curative magics, transmutations to maker her stronger and faster, abjurations to mitigate wounds, then evocations, bringing a wall of earth into existence around her and Lugh, and blasting fire outside the wall to incinerate those mindless buffoons. She didn't expend TOO much energy, but it was still a little tiring for the young lady, and she could feel her breathing deepen with the effort. "Lugh darling, I can't die before I find my darling Sidhe knight..." Her voice seemed to echo throughout her tiny cavern, even though the fabric should've absorbed most sound. Rokket flexed her new arm, stitched together through white hot lancets of pain, it functioned just as well as her old arm; she decided fervently before allowing Lugh to cover her in a bubble of Dirks, so that she may rejoin the fray.

The Sidhe girl's footfalls seemed to resound infinitely throughout the harsh landscape, she crouched to examine a footprint on the ground. "What do you think Lugh? Is this Jose's?" The Spear of Lugh floated by her side without responding, it was after all, not sentient. The girl dropped to all fours and took a long smell of the track she had found. "Yes. It certainly smells like someone carrying the Blacklight Virus." The girl stood up and looked around her vast surroundings.

He should not be far from here, the girl thought to herself. She couldn't see Jose Mercer, but she knew he would be close. Something about the way the man caused wholesale devastation wherever he went had absolutely smitten the Fey girl, and she was determined not to lose him. "Jose! I can smell the Virus on you, come out come out wherever you are!" The girl skipped along, searching desperately for the lost man.

The ground began to tremble, as if excited for events to come, or so it seemed to the young girl lost in Hayslem. The girl herself began to tremble with excitement, and she began sprinting in the direction she deemed the tremors were coming from. She was more than a little wrong, and ended up having to cast a spell to discern the quake's epicenter. Finally knowing her way, Rokket began to sprint towards her destination.

As she neared her destination, the city's Port, Echo began to smell magic in the air. Something massive was going on, leaving a tinge of the arcana in the air. The Sidhe girl summoned her companion, Lugh, to her side and the slightly larger than human-sized Teddy Bear ran goofily after her. The golem wasn't sentient, but with enough magic, thoughtfulness, and resourcefulness, the girl could make it appear so.

As the girl got closer and closer to the epicenter, another smell could be detected in the air, thanks to her inhuman senses. "Lugh... Is that... Do I smell gnomes?" She asked her companion. It stared blankly in response and she didn't wait for an answer. The girl flounced quickly towards the smell, and in only a few minutes she was face to face with a crowd of Dwarves. As she was only five feet, the Dwarves weren't much shorter than her, though in her mind she was larger than life.

"Little people!" She squealed, her eyes lighting up with fervor, as she cupped her hands together to address the crowd. "Greetings tiny ones! Welcome to Hayslem! I am the magnificent Echo "Rokket" Rhorer, child of the Sun God Lugh, of the Tribe of Gods. It seems you are from elsewhere, like me, and newly arrived in this... uh..." The girl trailed slightly off, thinking of a way to describe Hayslem. "It's a city, alright." She finished, beaming a smile.

The large teddy bear caught up to her and with a puff of smoke it returned into a normal sized teddy-bear, which the girl held to her chest with crossed arms. "I was born in Otherworld, and as the daughter of Lugh, I am royalty. Therefore I DEMAND you take me to your leader." She continued to address the crowd as a whole, smiling all the while, but unwilling to interact with the common folk too intimately.

Jorn was not pleased by the loud voice that came booming from the strange arachnid that Malad had insisted on bringing for this mass exodus to the planet Origin. This was a place that they, as émigrés, could finally escape that demandable world of Gaia and the dragon that was the cause of such a move. It was only when another face arrive and began to harass one of the clerics who seemed almost astonished at the sheer gal that this young girl was presenting. The priestesses even seemed more put off as the seemingly sentient stuffed bear arrived only to shrink down in a seconds.

"Excuse my young lady?" Jorn glared at the newest arrival only to quickly walk up towards Echo "Rokket" Rhorer with a stern gaze and a tight grip upon his own cane as he lifted up and pointed it right at the girl. The old dwarf was an experienced spellcaster and already was in the motion of conjuring the might needed to hold his own if need be.

"Girl!" Jorn raised his voice as his people continued to make their way through the city and hopefully to a place they could call home. "You don't have any authority over my people! I Jorn Gareif, Master of Coin and a member of my peoples shattered council until the rightful King steps up once more. If you wish to speak to a leader of the people I am present now."

Malad looked at the girl then to Jorn as he grimaced at this Earthrend's yelp. A good engineer inquisitor refused nothing that was both useful and acceptably harmless. Still, he had a good sense when he was pushing his luck. It definitely didn't belong to Gaia then so perhaps it had someplace else to be.

Malad had his ever neutral gruff tone, "'Sfine, spider, but be quiet about it. Where are you going from here? We're not your home."

~~~

Earthrend listed slightly to the side to get an eye line on the girl that had come up, "Yes, Malad. I will go home now but Matriarch Hestia maybe send rewards for rescuing me from Gaia. I Will be in Hayslem for some time. I apologize for the loud yelling Gaia makes my kind's hearing very deaf."

Their conciliatory gesture was a crossing of the forelimbs and angling their eyeline at the ground. Even if Patriarch was a word they really didn't have a place for in their social structure. It didn't make sense to offend if the dwarves really wanted their matriarch to be a male. It worked out, he supposed, the lesser matriarchs in his demesne made all the hatchlings anyway.

It pointed at the small girl as Earthrend made an effort for its version of enunciating, "False Matriarch Echo is not very respectful to Patriarch Jorn. Maybe a lesser still."

~~~

Malad nodded with the barest crack of a smile then waved the spider off, "Leave my things and the armor I made for Lord Jorn. Then off with ya. I'll find you if we need exploration done."

The engineer turned about to walk to Jorn's side as Earthrend reached backward to unhook Malad's saddle from about his legs. The field of vision reached nearly around behind his head so other than a slight bend fiddled expertly directly behind him. Another partly gleaming object appeared from Earthrend's booty stuffed saddle bags. A suit of dwarven mixed plate tethered with silk cords. Pearlescent gleams came from the edges of the plates and scales and with an even earthy matte cuticle coating atop flat surfaces. Immersed in the aftermath of the gate the mage plate resonated quietly in the leftover arcane energies after the material took up shaping as a defensive foci.

Earthrend handed it to a slightly disgusted cleric, pointed at Jorn, then moved out of the way to make a phone call to a likely worried Matriarch.

One of the, seemingly more important, Dwarves began to make it's way over to Rokket. The Sidhe girl turned her nose up at the man before her as he began to conjure magics to him and introduce himself. "Your a glorified Treasurer, then? That's not the leader of these people..." With an over-dramatic sigh, she hung her head, a crestfallen look coming across her face. "Yeeah, I suppose you'll do..." A moment of inactivity passed as the girl looked at her bare feet.

After the moment had passed the the Fey child moved again and the Teddy Bear disappeared as she crushed it between her palms, in it's place, a spear grew as she took her hands away, growing as the distance of one palm from the other grew, until it stood a little under six feet. Echo put the Spear on her back, and it floated there, seemingly attached as if by some sort of immutable force.

She erupted into giggles, "First off, don't call me girl. I'm probably older than you. The name is Echo 'Rokket' Rhorer, of the Tribe of Gods, daughter of Lugh, inheritor of his prowess. 'Rokket' for short. Now! Down to brass tacks; portals. You popped in here from somewhere. I need to know more, it's vital to my mission. Where'd you come from? Why? Can your portals exceed Planetary boundaries? Can they exceed Dimensional Boundaries? What about existential boundaries? These are true Portals, yes? Not some sort of glorified teleporters!?" Every few queries seemed to be punctuated by another bout of awkward laughter.

"Also!" Her manic demeanor continued as she suddenly started beaming an unnecessarily enthusiastic smile. "The spidery-thing!" Echo cried out, pointing at Earthrend in the distance. "It's cute, I want it." A slight squeal escaped Rokket. "Barter with me foreigners; if you are indeed foreigners? I haven't seen little people like you since I left Otherworld. Are you gnomes? The way the tremors happened, I would think so." A thoughtful hand rose to her chin as she pretended to ponder the thought. "I'm willing to pay for the spider though. If you can help me with my portal problems, I can offer riches only spoken about in hushed voices! Valuables from your wildest fantasies!"

Finally the Sidhe girl approached Jorn, standing only a few feet from him and kneeling down quite unnecessarily before addressing him, so that he actually stood slightly taller than her. "I am not here for combat, youngster; but if you require a duel to prove my prowess, as is some culture's custom, I will oblige you. I had more than enough fighting for now. I came to this city for other reasons." The sentence finished with a wink, as she extended an open hand to the Dwarf, in the gesture of a hand-shake.

Jorn glared at the young girl as she obviously could not have known the hardships that he, or his people, have suffered! To think that such a rowdy child such as this had the gall to act so brazenly when meeting with her betters was almost unacceptable and even a bit irritating to say the least. The old dwarf simply held his ground and kept his mind focused as he heard her demands and bouts of insults. He even declined his hand as she gestured to offer her own.

"For someone claiming such lofty titles and even having the audacity to shout nonsense over ones age you seem a bit childish and unbalanced. Like I said I am Master of Coin and also hold a position of power that allows me to act in my peoples best interests." Jorn took a deep breath and began to walk past her looking over to Malad who apparently had an offering of armor of the highest caliber. "Malad. Help the others with the Heart of Clanggedin Silverbeard, we march towards our new home."

The heart itself was the massive ruby with etched names across its surface as it was lifted aloft by several golems and a small contingent of guards with strange rifles and walking axes. Jorn turned his attention back to Rokket only to shake his head. "I've no time for fools. You wish to step through the gateway which I mustered for my people then be my guest. You may find only darkness and dragons awaiting you."

The Gardener had good hearing mostly for the telltale subtle cracks of a mountain's growing wrath. In its homeworld of 2G or more a thing shapers ignored at their peril. Not to mention the other collectivist part of his visual cortex induced a very physical prodding when a recognized female pointed awareness at him. Her query about his person immediately pushed out his train of thought to pay her rapt attention. Since she wasn't actually a Gardener Matriarch the clacking front limbs came from mild perturbation that he couldn't think about the email to his Matriarch anymore.

Earthrend's PDA responded to Matriarch Echo with his voice in flat tones of boilerplate language recited from rote, "The Matriarchy has decided non-Gardnerians may negotiate for breeding rights to Royal Shapers like myself at their option, Barren False Matriarch Echo, even if you cannot have Gardners. You will need to negotiate with my Matriarch Hestia or petition High Matriarch Bvetin. Answers to your calling in order: Sopitos, Ecological collapse, Yes, Matriarch Oculi is trying, Yes, Infrequently portals mostly quickening, Rhetorical, No."

Earthrend hadn't actually understood what she meant but did offer what he thought she asked. At least to his understanding of the matter. She was not his own Matriarch thus False. Given she was not his own species she could not make Gardeners thus she was barren. The notion of breeding rights was rather important to the species with so few adult Matriarchs. The blood wars had been harsh. The mature Matriarchs that remain were easily ten times the size of himself or more though. There was no way the small lesser Matriarch wouldn't get organ damage by any such effort on his part so that sort of thing likely wouldn't be a problem. Not that either of the two would take to Echo that well. The humans had a phrase for his Matriarch's usual demeanor, 'salt of the earth'.

~~~

Malad snerked lightly seeing the forelimbs clack knowing what it meant but nodded sternly at Lord Jorn. He made an about face and headed back to the golems and the gem.

The engineer commented quietly, "Careful irritatin' the bug. Chucks a good size boulder 70 paces."

A few of the miners chuckled having seen the return artillery when someone overhanded a small rock at Earthrend to get its attention. The bug at least took pains to miss his workers with the rock even if the threat rang true. Behind them he'd made a harness for the Gem to carry it safely and efficiently but even Jorn could see they were not doing it right. Blast it. They were holding onto the shoulder harness instead of putting them over the shoulder to the waist anchor. Shocks flopping about doing nothing. Somebody let or were told the clerics install the things or just told the golems to pick it up, blast it all.

He set about ordering the Golem's minders to properly anchor the harnesses to the belts over each shoulder. The heart sat in the connected overlapped belts with a padded hole in the middle. A few hooks got dug out of pack mules and installed around the heart's periphery to keep it balanced on the hole as it was already listing a few degrees. The golems obliged and moved about as they were told, two by two, with the Gem in the center between them. It now barely bobbed at all as the heavy golems walked. Shocks in the shoulder straps taking the momentum in their heavy steps. Now if they told the golems to run anywhere with the thing it wouldn't flop out like it was designed for in the first place.

The dwarf before Rokket ignored her hand extended in friendship. "Well!" The girl huffed as she listened to the Mr. Master of Coin, Jorn, complain of the dark or dragons. The Dwarf Fafnir became a Dragon through greed, and for a moment Echo wondered if Jorn himself wouldn't soon become a Dragon and betray his people, he was certainly moody enough, she thought.

"My people mature more slowly than your ever changing race. Your people are as mutable as the wind, changing with every whim, tumultuous, and wont to falling to dark desires... I can't help it if your kind 'mature' so wantonly" She outlined the word mature with air quotes via her fingers. "Besides, Fafnir-to-be," she addressed Jorn with a coy wink, "If'n you haven't the technological prowess to be privy to my wonderings, there's no need to continue this talk."

The cute 'little' spidery beast caught her attention as it addressed her, and she began to wander towards it "I am NOT barren!" The girl stamped a foot, as it addressed her, perceiving the title as an insult "Why it wasn't that long ago I mothered a Giant named Ecke! Certainly he died only shortly later... but I was still his mother!" In fact, it had been quite a long time ago since Ecke had been born and subsequently slain at the hands of a Giant-slayer.

The creature answered her queries quickly and efficiently, and she quickly forgot her previous line of thought. The manner in which the spider mentioned his Matriarchs denoted an almost Eusocial Hive of creatures. Rokket loved swarm intelligence, as she'd studied it much in regular pixies back in Otherworld. "Tell me, Gardner, the way you speak, you are a male, yes? Where are these Matriarchs then? And their eggs!?"

Another Dwarf warned the Sidhe heiress of the dangers the Spider posed, but it would take much more than a large rock chucked a sizable difference to scare, or even notably harm her. She continued prattling on as she moved closer and closer to the bug. "How do I acquire a viable breeding egg? And a male of the species of course! Preferably you, you itty-bitty cutesy-wutesy wittle boo." By now the girl was only a few feet from the creature, crouching so low as to almost be sitting, making the spider tower slightly over her. She cooed slightly to the spider, as if talking with an infant.

The dwarves were accompanied by, or perhaps had created Golems. Rokket paid them no mind, she was all too familiar with Golems. It was said somewhere that the father of her race, Noah, had an ancestor eight generations up who began life as a Golem, before divinity was breathed into him by some sort of wannabe deity. Ancient history meant next to nothing to the Sidhe girl, and she'd created homunculi before, meaning Golems were a veritable snooze-fest. However the Gardner beast before her was new, and thus very, very interesting.

Jorn continued to make his way with the rest of his people ignoring the comment from the god child. They needed to find a new home and he had promised this paradise away from the dragons and the faulty designs and machinations of the other inhabitants of Gaia.