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| The Eastern Barricade; [Alert] OPEN TO MANY | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sun Oct 19, 2014 3:37 pm (1,231 Views) | |
| Emilie Joubert | Sun Oct 19, 2014 3:37 pm Post #1 |
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On the second draw, Dusty felt her right arm tense up: the beginnings of a cramp. She fought through it. One breath in, aim. One breath out, fire. The shambler charging toward the barricade was thrown violently to the ground, limbs straining into the sky like a marionette. Its neck was broken. Dusty clutched her arm. The wrought iron of her prosthetic arm ground together on its bolts, clenching against her will just like a muscle cramp, forcing out clouds of cold air between the gaps. Next to her, the glowing hand she had pinned with her hunting knife writhed so energetically that its knuckles and joints continuously thumped the watchtower's floor. She had managed to push the other bodies off of the tower and back into Vanimle, but the hand crawled up and nearly strangled her during her first kill. They were drawn to her almost as much as the barricade. If they survived her shots, which they often did, they usually changed direction and came charging up the tower. All quiet right now, though. One of those lull periods. Having eased her arm cramp, Dusty busied herself with the hex bag she was making. A shadow-whisper flowed up the watchtower, into the basket where she was perched, and climbed into her ear. Hey, Eye-in-the-Sky. How are things looking over on the east side? Think it's clear to push in? Give me two whistlers for yes, one for no. Dusty poked her head out of the watchtower and surveyed the eastern streets of Vanimle. Other than the one shambler, she couldn't see anything. Deceptive: the one time the elemental herself tried walking streetside, she was immediately pounced on by several monsters from seemingly nowhere. A slight frown on her face, Dusty fitted one whistling arrow to her bow and fired it into the sky. Useless except for signalling, the projectile made a high-pitched whirr as it finished its arc. Hopefully they'd take her advice. They wanted her to take the watchtower, and she did. They wanted her to keep an eye out and provide support from a covered position, and she gladly did that too. But this was all part of a larger plan, an offense, and Dusty wasn't sure if that was the greatest idea. There had to be a way to heal this place. She glanced down at the flailing hand she still had pinned by her knife to the floor, pitying it like an injured animal, hoping that it would eventually calm down. It never did. OOC
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| Fixitt | Sun Oct 19, 2014 6:52 pm Post #2 |
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Fixitt could feel the effects of the virus in his own prosthetics, not even he was safe from the constantly changing monster living in his limbs. When he wasn't fighting for his life in the forest, he was up in a tree, making new calculations to his arms and legs to fend off the virus's constant attacks on his nodes. With each new attack, he had more data to memorize, less patterns to use, but fewer questions. As far as he could tell, it was a Arcane Virus created specifically to infect, expand, and reproduce on the cellular level. He was starting to rate the attacks in levels of infection, level One was simple, trying to get general control of the limb, but when that failed, it moves on to level Two, attack on specific points, most notably the fingers and wrist. He could only dread what the third level would be, but he just needs to find an undamaged prosthetic. Of course if he told anyone he was infected, they would probably try to kill him, but it was simple to stop the virus from spreading from a prosthetic, you just needed to partition all node travel as 'one way', forcing the virus to stay in it... until it could completely take over the arm, then it's all up in the air at that point. Fixitt shrugged on his jetpack, one again taking flight, but this time he saw something new, a watchtower. Fixitt not only flew towards it, he flew into it, barely sliding through and stopping in mid-air, slowly descending to the floor. He dusted off his brown jacket and looked to the woman, he nodded once as he spoke, "I am Kriegger Metall Fixitt, Prosthetic Engineer and Master of Medicine. I have not seen a non-infected face for a while, I would ask you direct me to a place where I can scavenge relatively undamaged prosthetics from the infected. I must begin my research of the virus as quickly as possible." He didn't add in, 'before my own limbs murder me in my sleep', but then again, he didn't plan on telling them he was infected. |
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| Sazy | Mon Oct 20, 2014 9:13 am Post #3 |
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When the first signs of trouble came, Sazy was too busy working on her newest product to really note them. As usual the goblin was engrossed in her work, ideas flowing through her little head, some striking together with others to ignite the flames of inspiration. She wanted to make something as new and as great as her mGol design, something that would equally be able to sell and be mass produced, to keep her financially secure while she made even more things, and to keep repeating the cycle until her hands quivered too much from old age to do any more, and by that point she would have mind-controlled external constructs acting as not only her fingers, but something far, far better. At first it was small, the ship quivered and a small chiming sound began coming from the tubular communication system, which was typically reserved for announcements as there was no real privacy with it. Sazy stopped her work, went down to the flight deck, checked the panels, and fixed what she believed to be the source of the problem. The ship had its fair share of problems, since being golemized it was forced to run so long as it was airborne, but it was never anything that the goblin had to worry about unless she was getting shot at. Then as she returned to work, the chiming noise returned, and once again she went to check the navigational systems, but this time she could find nothing worth the alerting noise, so she simply deactivated the mechanism for the time being. Something must have been haywire with the overall system, she thought. When she returned to her room, her little mGol, whom she had left on her desk, had gone quiet and still. At first the goblin just shrugged it off as a nap. Then the ship shuddered. That was when she began to acknowledge something was very wrong with her vessel, but by then it was too late to do anything about it. Gigwelt reached the door to the flight deck only a moment before the vessel began a very sharp and rapid descent to Norwood Forest, which ended with the loud noise of metal bending and trees snapping beneath the force of impact. For a short time Sazy was unconscious, and what she saw when she returned to consciousness was confusing. In front of her was the ship's medical golem, only it took her a moment to realize that he was not in front of her, but above her. The goblin had been moved to the operating table, on the first common floor above the hold and entrance to the vessel. What had her confused, and a bit worried, was that she was bound by leather strips. "Z, what's going on?" She asked groggily as she pulled weakly at the restraints, trying to force her brain to get back into working condition. "I-I haaaad toooo r-restraaain yoooou." He explained with a strangely mournful tone, "I-I Caaan fffix yooou. I-I-I caaaan ffix your eye-eye. It caaame to meee." "What?" She asked, looking him over and coming to the realization that his arms were prepped for surgery, tools she hadn't seen since she lost her eye, "What's going on? How bad did I get hurt when we crashed?" "J-J-Juuusssst a. . . Jusssst a m-miiinor concusssion." He said, his tone turning chipper suddenly as he tried to ease her mind about any possible lacerations to her flesh, "N-N-No worries. I-I willll fffix yoou." "Z, just let me out. The eye can wait." Sazy began getting her strength back, what little of it she had to begin with, and started pulling against her restraints even more vigorously, "You can experiment with my eye-hole later, I've gotta use the other one to assess damage to the ship, get us back up and running." While not opposed to the idea of anything Zravilo may have come up with to replace her missing orb, the goblin was too much of a workaholic to just sit back when there were serious repairs to be done, not to mention finding out whatever was the cause of her ship losing its connection to the caged elemental, since surely that could be the only thing which would cause it to wreck in such a manner. "It-it willl be oooover qui-qui-quickly." Z said, the blades in one hand retracting to normal fingers, which nimbly took another strap from beneath the table to keep her head bound"J-j-just sssit back. Relax-x-x. The d-d-d-octor must-- surgery." "Zravillo, stop [removed]ing around!" She started shouting, "Put the scalpels away and let me examine the gods damn ship before I dismantle your metal ass and sell your parts for scrap!" |
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| Emilie Joubert | Mon Oct 20, 2014 1:24 pm Post #4 |
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Dusty made a surprised noise, flipping around to face the blur that had invaded her watchtower while pushing back against the walls of the basket. Her feet and the ends of her hair began to blur and emit mist, partly dissolving, while the markings on her skin twisted into the shape of her surroundings to let her blend in better. All unconscious and useless actions. It took her consciously processing his first few words to realize her life wasn't in danger. The man, some sort of prosthetic doctor, was looking for a place to harvest some undamaged limbs for study. "Um, um... there's this hand here, but it has a knife stuck through it... my name is-- Dusty, and I'm a, uh, druid, just helping out." She turned toward the outside of the watchtower and pointed down below. "I killed a shambler right over there just a few minutes ago, and there was another one that came back to life over there so that one should be pretty fresh if you can kill it again." She gave the prosthetics engineer a really good look. "Um... can I ask you something?" Dusty rolled up her right sleeve, revealing that her right arm was missing from halfway up the upper arm. Her air elemental essence had bled out of the stub, and that was how she operated an extremely primitive wrought-iron arm -- like a puppet, almost. "I keep getting cramps in this arm. The iron grinds and seizes up. I don't know how or why, but it's interfering with my duties. You're a prosthetics doctor, so could you help me before you go?" Midway through whatever conversation might have resulted from that question, she heard people in the camps outside the eastern barricade shouting. Pointing out something, screaming to run. A perilously loud noise -- an impact -- came from close by. Dusty rushed to the other side of the watchtower to see the remains of an airship sliding its last few feet before lurching to a stop. The horrific scene had to almost unfold before her in order to comprehend it: twisted metal, smoke, fire, blackened carved ground. "We have to go find survivors! Please, the research can wait!" Cold, snowy clouds filled the watchtower, and Dusty started climbing onto them and out of the basket even as her feet appeared to meld with them. "You flew in here, so you can meet me there." |
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| Fixitt | Tue Oct 21, 2014 9:47 pm Post #5 |
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Fixitt listened to her and noticed the impaled hand. He began to inspect it, only to be pulled away when she showed her curde prosthetic. He inspected it for a few seconds and made a snap decision, it would need more direct tinkering, he would need to take off the top shell and inspect the innards, something was out of place or broken, and Fixitt felt he probably had the spare parts in his emergency supply bags. That was when the airship crashed. Fixitt was startled, and immediately leaped out the window with Dusty, taking flight towards the craft. He flew with dusty to the wreck and nodded a few times, "Once we have a free moment in there, let me fix your arm, won't do us any good if something else inside of it breaks." He went in first, knowing full well his hidden weapons would give him the edge in close range combat, but what made him curious... was the lack of moaning, the lack of bodies, the lack of anything except metal. Fixitt walked on until he heard the shouting, he immediately began to sprint, using his shoulder to knock a door open, and what he saw made him growl in frustration, the golem medic was infected. Fixitt looked to Dusty and shouted, "Get the goblin girl, I'll take care of the golem." He ran up behind the golem and began to punch it, but not just simple punches, he targeted the delicate joints of the creature. He would slow it down first, then make it incapable of movement, after that... he would probably have to dismantle it, after all, he can't let some psycho golem walk around with an arsenal of knives. |
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| Sazy | Tue Oct 21, 2014 10:51 pm Post #6 |
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"Is that one of my goggle lenses?" Sazy screamed, the accumulating fear quickly being replaced by anger as she realized that her medical golem hadn't just bound her to the table for some cockamamie surgery he had come up with while she was unconscious, but had actually dismantled one of her goggles to act as the ocular implant. Normally she had no problem with somebody using her tools or fiddling with her things, but to completely dismantle a prototype that was so close to completion, that she was certain would end up being a critical part in improving the quality of her golems tenfold, was a no-go zone for her, "You bastard! You put that back in my room before I use your eyes for my next project, and maybe I'll forget you pulled any of this [removed]!" Zravillo didn't seem to be interested in her words, unfortunately. To him, at that moment, it was just a patient kicking and screaming because he hadn't used anesthetic, but the vials of that had been broken in the crash, far too severely for him to scavenge any, so he had been forced to move ahead without the proper medical measures. To the afflicted Z, he was about to do something that one healer had said impossible, and another grafter had agreed with. He was about to make medical history by overcoming a blighted eye socket and returning peripheral vision to his body's creator. If he could accomplish that, then surely she would trust his judgement more in the future, and perhaps allow him to aid in adding more improvements to her otherwise frail body. A scalpel managed to leave a cut at the corner of Sazy's perpetually black eye socket before the door to the medical room burst open with a well-timed hero's entry. 'Nnnno!" Zravillo screamed in protest, but had no time to finish his thought before the stranger began attacking his limbs, causing his arms and legs to buckle. Z's medical body was designed for a lot of things, but combat was not one of those things. While he may have easily been able to carry a body to the table, and stop bleeding with a few quick maneuvers, there was a stark difference between surgery on a restrained or unconscious patient and combat. The medical golem swung its scalpel fingers at the intruder but would miss with even the slightest bit of lazy dodging. "What the abyss?" Sazy screamed, unable to tilt her head enough to see what was going on right next to her, "What's going on? Don't destroy my damn golem! It's a [removed] to put that metal quack back together as it is!" |
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| Emilie Joubert | Thu Oct 23, 2014 1:52 am Post #7 |
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Dusty nodded a quick affirmation before ducking into the outskirts of the room. After muttering a few words, the area filled with a dense fog that covered her movements. A few seconds later, the temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Thin layers of frost crackled across most surfaces. The elemental appeared on the other side of the operating table, looking down inquisitively at the goblin with her dimly glowing purple eyes. Her hands busied themselves with the straps. "Are you injured?" She made a profanity-laced comment about not hurting her golem. "Don't hurt it, Fixitt! I have an idea!" Just as she ripped off the last of the straps, the elemental clambered in front of the golem and held out her arms protectively. "Stop! I'm an elemental too, and do you see me going around flaying people?!" She didn't expect that to work, but it was worth a shot before her next move. Dusty darted out of the way of scalpel-fingers with a muted squeak, her hands fumbling through a series of gestures. She finished off the spell with a word in the primal language -- audible only as a peal of thunder to normal ears -- and barked, "Hold on!" The frost in the room blossomed into a thick layer of ice, flowing across almost every surface of the room almost as though an ice cave was forming. The floor built up inches of slippery ice, the open door froze to the ground, and various medical implements became encased in ice on top of their tables. Icicles developed along the ceilings, the edges of the operating room, and any similar surface. Dusty maneuvered easily on the precarious surface, but she hoped the medical golem would either trip and fall and be unable to right itself or would actually be frozen to the ground like all the other objects in here. She really hoped it worked in stopping the fight, too, because another cramp hit her prosthetic arm. Dusty doubled over, clutching the crude iron contraption. It didn't help that all the rapid-fire casting was doing a number on her stamina, especially that last one. |
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| Fixitt | Thu Oct 23, 2014 9:15 pm Post #8 |
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Fixitt, of course, ignored them. He let Dusty do her thing, but still went on with bashing the golem, eventually using his arm to strike at it's head while his leg struck the lowest part of it's body, meaning to flip it on it's back, and hopefully, have it freeze to the ground. Of course now Fixitt had another problem... all of this frost magic would mean he needed to let the insides of his jetpack defrost, that meant no flying for a while. Fixitt walked over to the two and grabbed Dusty's arm, putting it onto an operation table while he fished for the tools in his pack, "Little Goblin, I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head. We just saved your life in more than one way." He finally found the tools he needed and began loosening the screws holding the iron shell in place, he took it apart and began to inspect the insides. He clicked his tongue in disgust as he looked at the horrific shape the innards were in. Fixitt nodded a few times as he spoke, "I see the problem, it's the equivalent to a pinched nerve for prosthetics. Now as I was saying, there is an arcano-virus that infects prosthetics and flesh creatures, of course this now includes golems. That golem would have killed you, infected you, and made you rise as an undead arcane technology seeking goblin. If anything you should be thanking u- There we go!" He finished it up, replacing parts from his pouch as he needed. His hands were quick and he found the cruder parts to be depressing and replaced a good number of parts with his own spare ones. He fitted the shell back into place and put his tools away, "That should stop the pain, I used some of my spare parts to fix it up, should feel a good deal lighter now that the nerves aren't being crushed. Seriously, whoever made this arm needs a good smacking around, it's shoddy and crude, I have half a mind to make you a new one, Fixitt Quality is the best quality after all." |
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| Luca | Sat Oct 25, 2014 7:05 pm Post #9 |
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"Sir Gwyllm, Sir Luca, this quarantine was not enacted lightly. This contagion is unlike anything we've ever encountered before. Given the location any specialists who could adequately handle the situation are so distant that the situation here will become a catastrophe." Gwyllm, her Knight-Senior, seemed impassive behind the ornately wrought mask he wore. It was more an effect of the emotionless metal face, Luca knew full well he had an opinion on the subject and a course of action in mind. Gwyllm said nothing though, instead his face turned to look towards her. Luca had been given a week of 'operational free time' were she was the one who decided where they went while the Knight-Senior chaperoned. This was a far cry from the trip to Taras she had hoped for, but Luca could not willingly ignore the problem here. "You're saying you want to go in and kill all the people who caught the disease." Try as he would, the young Lieutenant couldn't hide that Captain Golon was marshaling soldiers and fighters, not doctors and aid workers. To his credit he didn't seem rattled by her accusation, but there was a flicker of attention between the pair before he addressed Luca. She was used to people paying attention to Gwyllm more than her, thanks in no small part to the large sword he had laid on his shoulder. "What I'm saying is that we can't afford to wait that long. If the infected numbers reach a critical point they could overrun one of our barricades. The other strong possibility is that this disease might make another jump in transmission, this time to animals. This outbreak is being contained, but this is a village in Norwood. Imagine what would happen if an infected bird reached a major city? What if it reached Cascadia?" He held up his hand and cut Luca off when she shifted to retort back. "Captain Golon did not reach this conclusion without thinking of alternatives first. There's simply no reasonable option that can be done in a fast enough time frame. It's not good, but the risk to the great many this disease presents out weighs the needs of Vanimle." Luca's hands curled into fists at her sides. She hoped the slight distortion her helmet made in her voice covered the waver in it. "There's no option you can see because you abandoned them. All you're doing is sacrificing the many of Vanimle for the your own safety." Thankfully for her sake the Lieutenant didn't say anything else while she stormed out of the tent. Gwyllm simply shrugged as he stooped to follow her. Luca had a fast pace going, aiming to get as far away from Captain Golon's growing offensive. Even still, Gwyllm's long legged strides caught up to her easily and he laid a gauntleted hand on her shoulder and stopped her. "Before you say anything, even if there was an Order apothecary here they wouldn't be able to treat this. Especially on this scale." "I know." That had actually been what she was gambling on as an option. For her Knight-Senior to so bluntly smash her hopes took the wind out of her sails, so to speak. Without a chance to contemplate another course of action, they were approached someone else. Not suited up in armor, toting a weapon or some kind of spell focus they looked a bit out of place. Even on the peripheral of this camp. "I'll cut right to the chase. I overheard what you said in that tent back there, and I think you've go the right idea." Luca was a little startled at the sudden intrusion and the severe lack of understanding what personal space was from this person. She would have taken a step back, but she could feel her Senior-Knight's presence there. "Who are you?" "Ah! Sirdhemil, nice and all that. Look, there's still a lot of people trapped in there. All this quarantine is doing is giving the infected a direction to attack in. Any survivors can't get out since the monsters are all going for the barricades. You two though, if you could go in an make an opening for the people inside you'd save many people!" The decision was again up to Luca, Gwyllm was silent with an absence of any advice. "But the infected though, there must be a way to cure them. Otherwise there will be a lot of them will be killed trying to save the people trapped inside." "I've seen what some of the older ones look like now. The ones who've actually acquired other grafts. Even if we could cure them now, they'd still be a monster. The soldiers you talked to back there? They know that as well. They're going to burn the whole village down, infected and healthy along with it. I need you to at least try to save who you can from there before it's too late." Deep down she wanted to yell at him just she wanted to with the Lieutenant. Sick people aren't vermin to be exterminated. They weren't any less of a person than the healthy were. The frightening thing was that it sounded like this disease made them into something else. That it created a very real monster for these people to slay without guilt. She desperately hoped they might find some miracle worker or magical doctor wizard or something else entirely unlikely who would be able to puzzle out a cure. For now she had to help who she could. "Very well. I'll go in there and get who I can out." Luca seen Sirdhemil's pleased expression, she could see the lips moving and forming words. The only thing she heard was a monstrous crash that drew all there attentions. In the distance an airship had crashed with first responders already taking action. Some were organizing teams to get douse the fires, others were pulling people had been injured by debris from the impact out of the way. The people of the barricades were at least ready and able to handle the unexpected. Luca didn't wait to figure out a course of action. She had no real training in deal with fires, airships or even first aid. She had a pair of hands though and they'd find a way to help. Approaching the crash site she was surprised to see that it looked like all the injured were from the camp. No bodies were strewn about the actual airship. It was possible that it had been abandoned during the crash, but something seemed off. Even with the crackling of flames and the sound of the camp in full activity, Luca could just faintly make out someone shouting from within the ship. There was a loud rumbling that made Luca, and many of the people around, flinch in expectation of an explosion. Instead what looked like a this fog billowed out from within the ship, it didn't go very far before the heat dissipated it. "There's people in there!" Luca regretted the exclamation, she could hear Gwyllm's sarcastic response at stating the obvious in her head. He didn't even need to make one anymore, she'd just fill it in herself. She barreled on in, not appreciating that this was her first time on an airship. Something that would no doubt color her future impressions of the technology. "Hello! I'm here to help you! Hello!?" There was a thin fog carpet on the floor that she was following. It got thicker and as it did she grew more and more convinced that she heard speaking. Shouting again just before she stuck her helmed head around the corner of a doorway to see a number of people actually. A little goblin and two other people, one of whom was tinkering with a prosthetic limb. "Oh...ah, everyone okay?"' Not exactly the bold rescue attempt she had planned. Edited by Luca, Sat Oct 25, 2014 7:58 pm.
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| Mistalee | Sat Oct 25, 2014 7:13 pm Post #10 |
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Okay...this looked bad. Vanimle had been placed under quarantine and some sort of odd virus was infecting the inhabitants. Norwood was her home, and she felt duty bound to protect it in any way she could. If that meant finding a cure before this spread she would. Even if that unfortunately meant killing all the infected, though she hoped that would not come to pass. She of course had not told her brother what she would be doing here. He would not want her go anywhere near this virus for fear of getting infect herself. But this is where she needed and wanted to be. She had been keeping to the shadows trying to avoid as much conflict as she could, and occasionally sniped a poor infected soul trying to escape the quarantine. That was until she heard a whistling noise pierce the air. She was familiar with the sort of arrow that made that sound. It was a signal. That meant there were others like herself her to help control the situation. Silently but quickly the elf darted through the forest, keeping distance from any being that might be carrying the virus, and made her way to the location the noise came from. She slipped into the watchtower and made her way towards the sound of voices. The elf arrived right as Fixitt was making a comment about the quality of his work. She knew none of these people, but if they could be allies then she was willing to get to know them. Making no effort to hide herself she stepped into the room."Good to see other faces," she greeted. "I am Mistalee." |
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| Sazy | Sat Oct 25, 2014 8:07 pm Post #11 |
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"Civil tongue?" Sazy spat in disbelief as she hopped up and off from the table before rushing to her medic's side, "Go [removed] yourself, buddy! This is my ship!" Zravillo was only mostly frozen to the floor, a single hand of scalpel-fingers free to slice with futile effort at the person who had just taken him down while he spouted insults in some Celestial tongue. The goblin girl positioned herself behind him, knowing full well the limitations of his golem's design, as well as what to do when he wasn't quite acting right. On the back of Z's head was a latch, which the goblin girl removed easily before pulling out a golden glowing cylinder, the Interface Core for Elementals, or ICE which she partially named in case she contracted a fire elemental, and that she often included in her golem designs. Under normal circumstances any of the elementals could easily free themselves from the golem with a mirror, but when somebody else removed it fast enough, then the ICE doubled as a prison, since she never fully trusted anything she had a contract with. "Arc Virus?" Sazy grunted, lifting the relatively large core onto her shoulder with it glowing erratically in protest, while the stranger babbled on about all the things the nasty virus that had infected her Medilem would do to her, "So what you're saying is that he was going to turn me into a zombie version of myself?" When she at last heard his name, the goblin stopped dead in her tracks and her face scrunched up like a bad fart had entered the room, "The Repair Monkey is on my--" She was just about to get into a really drawn-out rant and eviction of Fixitt from her vessel when yet another person boarded her ship without the slightest hailing, some girl with a bucket on her head it seemed. "No, seriously!" Gigwelt's voice raised sharply and started cracking with a much more goblin accent, quickly growing frustrated with the influx of people boarding her vessel without permission, "What in the bloody bowels of the abyss are all of you people doing on my ship?! Get off! For so many reasons, get off! Especially you, Fixitt, or I swear to all gods I'll burn you to-- crap! That's one of the reasons! This ship has firebombs, there's no telling if there's leaking or fires or what-ever-the-abyss happened!" Outside of the ship, the balloon-like cage at the top would rip open, the fire at one spot bursting into life before petering out. The cause of its suddenly spectacular demise would be a whirlwind coming from the tear in the vessel, suffocating the flames before splitting into two more winds, and then a third. Eventually the white, swirling air would emerge as if pushing itself through, howling with the sounds of a storm without the thunder. The elemental of Naypolm was trying to rip itself free, and when Sazy finally got outside to see the spectacularly terrifying sight, her jaw would drop. That elemental never left the cage, even in the early days of its redevelopment when Sazy was getting her little green hands on it and tearing it apart, unknowingly coming face to face with an elemental the size of a house, but it liked its job. For whatever crazy reason it had no desire to leave the airship, and was incredibly easy to convince to move as Sazy required it to so she wouldn't get blown off of the ship. She rarely got to see it in person, but she communicated with it constantly via the controls on the Flight Deck. There she told it where to go, and the elemental itself took control and made the trip as fast and as smooth as it could manage in even turbulent air. The huge elemental tore itself away from the vessel and flew all of a dozen meters away from its cage before turning around, the howling sound growing as it slammed a tornado-like arm against the side of the ship. What seemed even more terrifying was that a dark whirlwind emerged from the cage just long enough to try whipping at the escaped elemental. The elemental had sensed something was wrong with the ship, and that it was trying to attack it. It had divided itself just to escape infection, and now was trying to fight to get back into its home, and to rid itself of the intruder while simultaneously trying to help put out the flames that had grown on the ship. "Arcanovirus." Sazy would say aloud, "What kind of arcanovirus does all of this? Who made it?!" |
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| Fixitt | Sun Oct 26, 2014 12:10 am Post #12 |
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All of the new people rushed in at once, perhaps Fixitt could use them to gather supplies, but the little goblin girl was treating Fixitt like he was an unwanted beast. He ignored most of the comments but followed the goblin girl outside to witness the awesome spectacle of a crazed air elemental. When the goblin finally spoke, Fixitt simply replied, "The worst kind. As for who... I have not a clue. If I did I would not be here, I would be throttling him and showing him just how much pain you can inflict on someone before they die. Oh, also of course I would use his notes to find a way to cure the arcanovirus." He turned to the two new arrivals, Fixitt made a slight bow, "I am Dr. Fixitt from Striberg. I am here to cure the plague. I expect full support from everyone as this quarantine will fail in time. The virus can't be destroyed, it needs to be cured, cleansing the area with fire and powerful anti-magic will only delay it. I expect it to soon start to effect plant life, and we all know of the Ivyn that still lurk in the forest, I would not like to see them suddenly infusing steel into their bodies. In the end, if you would all like to help, I am going to need samples. Blood samples, flesh samples, metal samples, even brain and hearts from the infected." He began to roll up his sleeves to show his metal arms, "As you can see, I am the one in the most danger, as all of my limbs are handmade. I would ask Dusty, Mistalee, and other woman, to help me... of course it will be distasteful work, as we must kill those that have fully turned. If you decide to help me we will need to work fast. The virus can't infect elementals... yet, but if they have golem bodies then they will turn. We must get away from the ship, perhaps regroup at the watchtower." He had left the little goblin girl out of his speech, mostly because he didn't like her, she was crude and rude for little reason, Dusty had helped save her, yet she gave no word of thanks. He would prefer to just leave her to her wrecked ship. If she wanted to help, she could, but Fixitt still would not count on her for anything this day. |
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| Emilie Joubert | Sun Oct 26, 2014 1:08 pm Post #13 |
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Heat flooded Dusty's cheeks. She grinned sheepishly and gave a small, nervous laugh at Fixitt's comments about her arm. The urban druid knew it wasn't the greatest arm anyone had ever made, or even a great arm, but did she really deserve to be smacked around? It was her first attempt at a prosthetic, she didn't have enough money to buy real parts, and she made the entire thing purely on instinct. Sure it was terrible, but it had a lot of love put in it! "Thank you so much." Fixitt proceeded to explain his theories on what was causing the disaster in Vanimle. After that, two more intrepid helpers -- likely attracted to the airship crash site just as Dusty and Fixitt had -- appeared. As far as the urban druid could tell, more people helping out was good. She smiled and waved at both of them: the unnamed female and one who introduced herself as Mistalee. Dusty jumped a little when the goblin launched into a tirade, ordering everyone to get off her ship and demanding to know why they were here in the first place. "Um... miss goblin... no offense intended, but your airship crashed just outside quarantined Vanimle. We came looking for survivors. We just wanted to help." She slouched to make herself look smaller, wringing her hands together. "But it looks like no one inside was hurt if it was just you, so maybe we should be going--" Huge noises and a rattling airship interrupted her. Dusty followed the rest outside, pulling her bow off her shoulder and counting the arrows in her hip quiver with her fingers. A giant elemental, presumably the one in charge of making the airship go, was locked in combat with a dark whirlwind. As Fixitt laid down a plan, the urban druid scanned the area. The ruined airship was sprawled across the bottom-most level of Norwood, its guts spilled all the way up to the eastern barricade. On the other side of the crash, military camps were lightly scattered with smoking debris. Dusty's eyes found movement beneath the fight above and widened. "O-okay Fixitt, but look there. We've got a problem." The elemental pointed downward, at the bottom of the wreckage. Pieces of debris from the airship had struck the eastern barricade violently enough to leave openings and even holes. Shamblers, attracted to the ambient mana flooding from the site, were clustered around the debris like mites, busily integrating parts of Sazy's airship into their bodies. There were so many of them that many were already climbing through the weaknesses in the barricade and homing in on the main airship. Dusty ripped three whistling arrows from her back quiver and fitted them onto her string simultaneously. "Miss Mistalee! Do you have any whistling arrows?! If so, fire as many as you care to spare! It's the signal for a breach in the barricade!" The elemental loosed three whistlers, rapidly fitted three more, and loosed them a couple seconds later, creating a roaring echo that could have been heard throughout the quarantine site. With the danger from the whirlwind above and the shamblers from below, Dusty's mind raced for answers. |
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| Mistalee | Mon Oct 27, 2014 12:52 am Post #14 |
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The elf looked a bit relieved when it turned out one of the strangers was a doctor. Hopefully that meant he could find a cure for this madness. She flashed him a thankful tired smile. "Welcome to Norwood then good doctor," she said. "If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know. I would like to see this plague wiped out before it can spread farther into my home and beyond." The one that had been called Dusty was now addressing her. Apparently she had noticed the bow and quiver full of arrows she was carrying and asked about whistling arrows. She nodded. "Aye," she replied. "I don't carry many but I have a few." She then joined Dust in firing off a few of her arrows, let the piercing noise fill the air. Just to be safe she kept one in her quiver. The magic of the quiver would eventually replace any arrow she fired, but it was not an instantaneous thing. That last arrow would be her only one for left for a while. "So Doctor Fixitt," she said returning her gaze to him. "You said you needed bodies of the infected to study this more? It...pains me to need to slay them but if that is what is needed to save the rest then it is what we must do. Where shall we begin?" |
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| Luca | Wed Oct 29, 2014 6:31 pm Post #15 |
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The notion that she had been trespassing hadn't crossed Luca's mind when she boarded the airship. It was a concern she noticed seemed to come from the materialistic individuals during times of crisis. She was just so flustered by the little goblin's fiery rant and warnings about actual fire that Luca hauled herself out of the airship without much of a goodbye. Outside wasn't much better. Instead of an irate goblin and surprise manatech repair shop, the elemental was going...angry? Luca's interactions with elementals were about as extensive as dealing with bankers. Needless to say, "little". So seeing a mass of wind fighting with a mass of wind was a new experience for her, but not quite one of the strangest ones. Still, she took several healthy paces back from the airship while everyone else exited as well. Even the elemental didn't want to be on the ship anymore! The mechanic though, Fixitt he called himself, was a doctor! He was even here to cure the plague! The reality of the good fortune came about when he was explaining that he needed samples. It didn't sound like it would be simple, easy stuff either. More terminal things from the infected. The infected seemed to have an opinion on this decision as well, taking advantage to overrun the barricade and were heading for the airship. They were unfortunately in between the horde and their desired buffet. The two with bows didn't seem too worried, the shorter one Fixitt had called Dusty set off a number of sound producing arrows. A signal of sorts, that the elf followed suit with. In the growing chaos Luca was looking around for Gwyllm, but she couldn't pick out his large frame anywhere. He wouldn't be around to help her shoulder this burden, but she had found some comrades who seemed to have come together for the sake of helping people. She hoped at least. The vanguard elements of the horde had stalled, going after pieces of wreckage or stumbling on things in the camps. It was only momentary, only enough for Luca to hear Mistalee's acceptance with Fixitt's request. Dusty had as well. It wasn't a fact she liked, even these people seemed to come to a close conclusion that Golon and Sirdhemil had reached. The shamblers were starting to surge again, this time going for the main prize instead of the scraps that had been littered around. Their movements were all off, owing more to a frenzied animal than a person. All of them had varying states of injury, from bite marks, broken limbs to glass shards. Coupled with the pieces of manatech lodged into their bodies Luca didn't feel quite as angry at those advocating killing them. It was easy to think of them as less than human with their appearance and behavior. Even she was equating them to thralls. Luca stepped towards the foremost infected, her pick in one hand but the other was extended out and held flat. "Stop! Look, I know you're infected but stop! We can he-" Her words cut off when it was obvious they had no intention of stopping. They got close enough Luca could tell the tatters it was wearing had once been an undershirt. She could see the dark red of old blood and pale blue fluid around injuries it had suffered. This person had been infected for some time, but it only had a few bits of metal lining its face. Very nearly human. When she swept the legs out from under it with a sweep of her pick, the yelp and snarl it made were all too alive for her. I'm sorry. The forward momentum it had toppled itself onto Luca who only just managed to turn aside and make into a glancing blow from what could've been a full tackle. Swinging her pickaxe down she brought the top of it down on their head with a loud crack. It stopped moving in what Luca had hoped was unconsciousness, but with the weight of her weapon for all she knew they were dead. There was no time to check though. Something did take her eyes off of the problem in front of her. At the barricades a large mass was pushing outwards. It looked like a large number of infected, while strictly true the more appropriate view would have been to look at it as one large infected. A number of people were fused together, the skin melted like wax to flow together. Underneath the lines of mana were interwoven like a circulatory system. The overarching shape of it was a quadruped. The general area were a face would be on a more natural creature was made up of two backs that split apart like lips. Lining the skin around this hole were numerous pieces of metal. Shrapnel, nails, broken blades and other less identifiable pieces lined its maw. While the grafting on the shamblers seemed almost random, this was a purposefully directed assimilation of metal and manatech into its body. Even the people who composed its feet were covered in plates of metal that had been taken from other crashed airships. There was intelligence in the infection, at least enough for something this large to remain in wait until there was an opportunity to break through the barricade. |
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8:21 AM Jul 11

