Week 9 - Warmonger's Engine Dimension

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Week 9 - Warmonger's Engine Dimension

Post  Admin on Sun Jul 31, 2011 7:10 pm


Abel Dragonsbane smashed his way through the Son of Morgoth’s defenses. Smashing Marcus Dannor up into the air with a haymaker, Abel shape shifted his muscles to their maximum strength. The Leyas coursed through him, and he cried as for the thousandth time he hurled the broken half of the spear of Salome upward driving it through his enemy’s giant eye and the helm behind it and head of the twisted boy knight who wore it.
Abel fell to his knees then began to weep for the dead spreading out around him.

They went on as far as the eye could see. Ascended Beings and the Fiends of the Ancient Evils, still locked in combat despite their true death. The toll had been horrific, and Abel pushed himself to his feet and stumbled away from the dead Son of Morgoth.
Was this a fate he would have to commit on his own son he wondered for the thousandth time, as he stumbled away, running and finally flying into the sky.

Kincaid flew up next to him, “The Forgotten is destroyed and the Avatar of Warmonger is dead, why are we still here?”

The Olgog’s armor was pitted and scarred. And Abel noticed though he flied, Kincaid’s side was bleeding a trail behind them.

“How are you doing?” asked Abel.

“I’ve been better,” said Kincaid, “Got a tooth from the Maw of the Deep broken off in the wound.”

They saw a golden glowing monk floating above the ground, with seven fiendish swords piercing him from all sides.

They flew down next to Sira the monk, in awe of his restraint.

“You know I am dying,” said Sira calmly, “I will join the great wheel.”

Abel went to draw out the weapons in hopes of healing the monk. As he approached, Sira simply raised his hand and both Kincaid and Abel stopped.

“This all feels like I it has happened before?” asked Sira, “Is this some divine truth?”

“Or some trap of Warmonger?” asked Kincaid.

Abel was about to reply when there was a flash of blue light.

The field of battle was now full. The Greatest of the Ascended and the Descended were here, and a battle royal was about to begin. The only beings missing were Azrael the fallen Falosini and Angel D, Avatar of the Creeping Darkness. Apparently each team got to leave one person on the bench.

A short time later Jeremiah stepped out of the bulk shuttle wearing his power armor, Peace. He was followed by two Havoc and two Bulldog striders. His head still tingled from the memory scan. Hopefully he wouldn't need it but it never hurt to be safe. He tilted his chin and keyed the command band of his radio. "How are the remote units working?" A moment latter he was answered by a wavering voice that sounded vaguely like Jeffers. "Fine Sir all four relays are green. Also Sir, the Captain tells me we're in geo-synch above you so if you need fire support we can provide it."
"Good," Jeremiah answered as he checked his ammo and power feeds for the tenth time. "Every little bit helps." He started off toward the gathering as the shuttle lifted behind him.

As Jeremiah got closer his armor’s enhanced sonic receptors could hear Kincaid whisper.

"Sira, get the Forgotten, If this goes down now it will tear reality a sunder." Kincaid whispered to the monk.

The Warmonger’s Forgotten roared, “It is time for the accounting of the crimes of both sides. Good and Evil, both have used mortals as pawns. Now they may get their vengeance on all of you. Begin”


As Kincaid watched everyone gearing up for the battle royale he said, "I will cover you, just get to the Forgotten and take him down. If he can hold you off or gets the upper hand I have an ace up my sleeve." The Valkyrie captain noted motioning to the bag on his back. "I will buy you the time you need and make sure you can fight the Forgotten unaccosted."

Sira cocked his head to one side and considered Kincaid's plan. How does one attack an ascended being who could control gravity itself? Doing so would definitely waste his chance to attack and banish several fiends. But then again, wasn't Warmongers Forgotten an ascended fiend? Could fiends ascend? What if by virtue of being ascended Warmongers Forgotten was no longer a fiend and was actually doing the Universe's bidding?

Sira dismissed those thoughts. He had been sent here by The Brothers of the Mind to be the champion for the entire order. More than twelve thousand monks had their entire being focused on him. He would not deviate from his mission or let his brothers down! The Brothers of the Mind had told him that Warmongers Forgotten would rip the Universe apart and must be stopped at all costs.

Yes! Sira said to himself, there must be no deviation of thought, will or body.

Glancing over at Kincaid Sira gave a short nod of his head and then opened his mind to the will of the Buddhas. A warm tingling buzz that ran from his toes all the way to the top of his head as he received their response. Interesting... By expanding his senses Sira could feel the wrongness of the soulless population of Draco Epsilon 7 going about their daily business. The wrongness was so strong that it almost drowned out the immense amount of power that had gathered near him.

"Save the souls of the planets inhabitants... I feel that they might be the fuel that gives this fiend its power." Sira whispered to Kincaid.

Delving into the planet itself Sira found his answer. Even ascended beings need to know they are being attacked to put up a defense and unless in flight almost no one defends below themselves.

Taking a deep breath Sira entered further into a deep meditative state while focusing his chi on the ground. He disappeared, using the Leyas to meld directly with the earthy ground.

Kincaid noted the position of all the others before pulling on the universe to buy them time. A heavy freezing fog rolls off of the air around Kincaid quickly filling the Valley of Lens. It was saturated with Air Leyas causing tiny eddies and vortexes to form.

Kincaid used the fog like sonar, detecting motion in the Air Leyas not created by the effect. He gets low, with his polearm out front, ready to attack any foes that approach.

Across the field of battle an Energy Bridge opened. "This is a prime opportunity for us, the Ancient Evils' avatars all gathered in one place, an all out brawl of ascended beings it will be great to see if they kill each other." The Red Fist commando Ul'athi heard this in his head, and he couldn't agree more. He was proud to have been picked for this assignment. Yes, he would almost certainly fall in this battle but he was happy to lay his life on the line for a chance to strike at the avatars of the demons. The plan was simple, he wasn't trying to win just give the "good" guys a better chance at winning. Ha, the thought that there were anyone "good" at this battle made him chuckle..

"I am Ul'athi, champion of the Hive Queen Ar'Yay, by her will the Ancient Evils shall fall."

Ul’athi turned towards the Avatar of Warmonger, the young Marcus Dannor and began channeling Fire Leyas to increase the heat in his helm. Ul’athi had never faced the Eye of Warmonger. It immediately spotted him and Marcus Dannor was already airborn with the Daemonsbane copy raised. Like the original it pulled its wielder towards the Fire Leyas being focused at its wielder.

Ul’athi blinked and looked down to see the sword had pierced cleanly through the heavy robotic Red Fist Armor. Ul’athi could feel his soul being drawn into the evil battle blade.
His arms assisted by the servos grabbed Marcus and pulling him out to full arms length. An incinerator was lifted in the other hand and fired. Fire blasted forward slamming into Marcus Dannor.
His armor was burned, and he roared in pain until he brought up the Daemonsbane copy absorbing the Fire Leyas again and cutting the Quall Red Fist armor’s arm clean off.

Marcus landed in a heap. He was badly wounded, but stood blocking the next two strikes from Ul’athi’s obsidian blades. The blades were shattered by the Daemonsbane sword, and the blade finally slid through the head of Ul’athi. The last thing the HiveQueen saw through Ul’athi’s eyes was the unblinking Eye of Warmonger. Calling to her, and promising to consume her soul and the soul of her hive in the crucible of violence of endless warfare.

Then his life energy was sucked clean out of the body of the Quall Warrior and into the blade of the Daemonsbane copy. To Marcus’ confusion, he saw liquid metal flowing into the Quall’s wounds and healing them. Ul’athi raised a hand to melt the metal of the blade but nothing happened. Ul’athi looked down at his hand and found he couldn’t call on the Leyas. His power had been stolen along with his soul. The soul-less warrior was consumed with grief.

Marcus Dannor drew the sacrificial sword of Kasanth and drew it across the transdimensional being’s head. It was severed quickly and with a fountain of blood.
Marcus felt the power surge through him and he concentrated on his helm. More of its armor grew back over his body. Marcus swooned from the energy, and barely recovered.

He did so just in time as the Accuser and Xephon reached his side. Marcus’ blade made a wicked arc, severing the Accuser’s leg and drawing his life force into the blade in that single strike. Marcus was high on the power of Warmonger, he felt unstoppable, invulnerable. Using the Eye, Marcus fired into the Ascended beings who flew above raining elemental attacks down upon his ally the Forgotten.

The Forgotten had not been unmoving. It had been dodging and weaving, firing back waves of Gravitics and salvos from its acid spitters. The Ascended Fiend was under constant assault. It had begun with Sira the Monk who had leapt from the ground beneath the Forgotten.

Streams of Acid created by the Leyas flowed from both of the Monk’s hands. While it was under that onslaught, Abel Dragonsbane flew in while ripping chunks from the hulls that made up the Forgotten’s body.

Sira and Abel attacked in unison, drawing the Forgotten’s attention. Jeremiah marched forward in Peace, his support striders unleashing EMP missiles directly into the side of Warmonger’s Forgotten. Its body crumbled at certain points, as the nanites were disabled.

Jeremiah tried to get a bead on the Avatar of Warmonger but teleporting Da’uhnb kept getting in the way. Instead he switched targets putting a pair of Annihilation bolts through the Maw of the Deep’s head. But instead of the body dropping, the mouth only grinned wider, as if it had now been freed by the only thing restraining it. The body turned mid-step from the Avatar and turned towards the largest grouping of Ascended Beings and charged into it. Consuming everything in sight, the Maw was grabbing Ascended Beings and simply hurling them into its mouth, growing with each bite. They were so intent on Warmonger’s Forgotten and hurling down attacks upon it, or shielding their allies from its attacks, that they didn’t notice the Maw until it was too late. By then one quarter of the Ascended Beings were down its gullet.

Jeremiah kept firing into the Maw, taking chunks from its fat body. Even with bloody chunks gone it just kept eating. He wanted to hit it with an orbital strike but it was surrounded by his ascended allies.

Kincaid tried to freeze the nanites of the Forgotten and did grievously wound it. As they pressed the attack an energy bridge opened over the Forgotten and over Marcus Dannor.
As the Lava poured onto the Forgotten some of its acid spitters were disabled, and burst under the oppressive heat.

The lava that fell towards Marcus did not fare so well. The Daemonsbane sword absorbed the heat and danger for its master. Moments later Da’uhnb mercs shot out the Energy Bridges with Zela bullets to prevent the Forgotten from escaping again.

A platoon of twenty five Red Fist Commandos emerged from an Energy Bridge and charged Marcus Dannor. Xephon leapt into the air raining lighting down onto Marcus Dannor from the other side. .

Marcus plunged his sword into the ground and the Eye told him, “It is time, the call of the Hive King comes!”

There was an odd moment when the singing of the Unity Builders stopped. Suddenly all on the battlefield felt their pain, their wounds, their soul-leeching exhaustion. The full oppressive energy released by the presence of the Ancient Evils struck those on the battlefield.

None at that battlefield knew why the Liberation Choir stopped.

They all turned and looked to the horizon, even the headless mouth-body of the Maw of the Deep. There was a rumbling as a huge army of Fiends of Warmonger, Warmonger’s Dead, and K’ias Warwalkers approached from all sides.

Kincaid flew into the air and hurled a massive wave of lighting down the cloudless sky towards the army. Sira kept pounding away at the Forgotten, and the Red Fists of Le-a HiveQueen drew its fire, and fired back with their own incinerators. They destroyed the metal that made up its physical body. But it hurled them away with its gravitic disruptors.

But the battle continued.

Hours, days, Abel wasn’t sure how long later he had been separated from the rest of the Ascended Beings and their allies. So many dead. He had seen such terrible things…
Abel was struck from the side by the sacrificial sword of Kasanth. It had little effect on him, beyond nearly gutting him.
As he hit the ground clutching his stomach the heavy blade of Daemonsbane swept over his head by centimeters. Abel grabbed the outstretched arm of Marcus Dannor and broke it. The knight yelled loudly in pain.
Abel couldn’t tell if it was Warmonger messing with his mind, but the knight seemed to be growing younger each time he looked at him. When he had first seen him he seemed like a man of great age and many experiences. Now however, he looked barely twenty summers.
Abel hammered an open palm into the knight’s exposed jaw, launching him backwards.
“I don’t want to fight you boy! Don’t make me kill you!”

“You stole my life,” said Marcus Dannor, “And handed it to your son. Are you shocked I hate you?”

“You don’t know the truth,” Abel tried to explain, “You father retook his kingdom. He adopted my son and stole him from…”

“Your words waste my time. I know you cut him in half,” said Marcus Dannor.

“Did the helmet tell you that?” asked Abel, “It lies with the truth kid.”

Marcus roared and brought the sword around to cut Abel down, but he had been a knight for years before his time as a rebel preacher. He fell back on that training now.
He caught the sword arm by moving within the boy knight’s grasp. Abel twisted the wrist snapping it, and then pushed it in breaking the thumb as he did so.

Marcus fell backwards in rage and the Eye in the helm glowed. Abel knew this trick, heck he had used this trick. He also knew another old trick, diving into the shadow of his own cloak, leaving it to be cut apart by the Eye of Warmonger’s beam. It cut cleanly through the cloak, and then Marcus looked around in concern.

Marcus was struck from behind by a punch to the back of his head.

“The Helm has blind spots, kid,” said Abel as he dived into another shadow, “Shouldn’t this be your trick? But you can’t when you use the beam right? Because the Annihilator beam cuts through the shadow Leyas too? You see I know all the capabilities of that helm. I’ve even been eaten by it.”

Marcus roared and another beam struck Abel on the chest and cut through his golden armor. Abel fell to one knee. He wouldn’t give up. He would not lose to Warmonger. He would fight on. He would never give up.

Abel Dragonsbane smashed his way through the Son of Morgoth’s defenses. Smashing Marcus Dannor up into the air with a haymaker, Abel shape shifted his muscles to their maximum strength. The Leyas coursed through him, and he cried as for the thousandth time he hurled the broken half of the spear of Salome upward driving it through his enemy’s giant eye and the helm behind it and head of the twisted boy knight who wore it.
Abel fell to his knees then began to weep for the dead spreading out around him.

They went on as far as the eye could see. Ascended Beings and the Fiends of the Ancient Evils, still locked in combat despite their true death. The toll had been horrific, and Abel pushed himself to his feet and stumbled away from the dead Son of Morgoth.
Was this a fate he would have to commit on his own son he wondered for the thousandth time, as he stumbled away, running and finally flying into the sky.

Kincaid flew up next to him, “The Forgotten is destroyed and the Avatar of Warmonger is dead, why are we still here?”

The Olgog’s armor was pitted and scarred. And Abel noticed though he flied, Kincaid’s side was bleeding a trail behind them.

“How are you doing?” asked Abel.

“I’ve been better,” said Kincaid, “Got a tooth from the Maw of the Deep broken off in the wound.”

They saw a golden glowing monk floating above the ground, with seven fiendish swords piercing him from all sides.

They flew down next to Sira the monk, in awe of his restraint.

“You know I am dying,” said Sira calmly, “I will join the great wheel.”

Abel went to draw out the weapons in hopes of healing the monk. As he approached, Sira simply raised his hand and both Kincaid and Abel stopped.

“This all feels like I it has happened before?” asked Sira, “Is this some divine truth?”

Abel said, “This is only infernal in its torments.”

“Do not grieve Abel Dragonsbane, for God is eternal love and compassion,” said Sira.

Kincaid was about to make a smart reply about Sira not being quite ascended yet when there was a flash of blue light.

And it continued to repeat

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Re: Week 9 - Warmonger's Engine Dimension

Post  Admin on Sun Jul 31, 2011 7:15 pm

The information presented above is a dream that would appear to all who carry the shards of the Crown of the Forgotten.

General Garmin Fe, Admiral Layne Yr, Zaodonai Celyse must now prepare to rescue those trapped in the Engine Dimension.
Each has a Shard of the Crown of the Forgotten which will open the way.

They may invite anyone they choose, however the mission (which will appear in Week 10) will only be open to a Single Character from each player, not full armies.

Choose wisely.

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