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RE: Nowhere to Run {Open RP}
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Post by
Neonhyper
2504 was a cataclysmic year in the Koprulu Sector. A resurgence of the zerg Swarm brought forth the Second Great War, with all its glory and horror, and left billions massacred in its carnage. One abrupt, but bright, beacon of hope shattered the bleak conflict against the numberless zerg: the defeat of the Queen of Blades. To the general populace, the zerg’s Queen is dead. Comparatively few are privy to the secret of her deinfestation.
Dominion headlines were plastered with the victory, exalting General Horace Warfield for his decisive victory on the battlefield of Char. The alliance between alleged terrorist James Raynor and Crown Prince Valarien Mengsk that secured the success was notably absent from the press. Information about the involvement of Raynor’s Raiders was kept silent, and that relating to the Heir Apparent’s treason was even more so.
Yet even with the Swarm broken apart and a lull in the bloody fighting that had carried on for months, Emperor Arcturus Mengsk was still held in contempt of his people. Neither his charisma nor charm could hope to placate the unrest caused by the revelation of the genocide he committed on Tarsonis to overthrow the Confederacy of Man. In a desperate attempt to distract the masses, and spread the Dominion’s influence even farther, the Emperor organized a colonizing mission past the borders of the Koprulu Sector.
It was not a decision without resistance. Many refused to be lead away from the condemning issues at hand, while others feared that newly colonized worlds would be abandoned like the Fringe Worlds were during the war. These protests were brushed off and the project was lauded by propaganda, though more soldiers than volunteers would be making the trip into the unknown. In the end, Mengsk also had his own special cargo make the journey: scientists and the zerg samples they would experiment with and observe in the new environments. The fleet, composed of battlecruisers laden with men, minerals, and vespene gas, launched from Korhal to begin its passage.
Though busy in an Umojan laboratory keeping Sarah Kerrigan hidden from his father, Prince Valarien was not without eyes and ears in the Dominion to inform him of the expedition and its nuances. In response, Raynor organized one of the new ships of his small fleet, the
Prometheus
, to follow the Dominion. He also tipped off some of his protoss allies about the zerg samples the Dominion was bringing with them.
A portion of the colonist fleet and its pursuers would arrive in an unnamed sector above a diverse planet orbited by two moons before finally confronting each other. What started with formal confrontation would end in a bloody firefight. The Prometheus, three protoss vessels, and five Dominion cruisers were shot down to the surface. The rest were destroyed completely in the battle or fled at first chance.
That night, the skies of Azeroth burned. Hulking monstrosities of metal blazed and blackened the heavens, some breaking through the immense oceans, churning the waters into tsunamis and then drowning beneath the boiling waves. The earth screamed in pain as the rest crashed upon the continents with wracking tremors and blackened craters, leaving gouging wounds and wrecks like impaling spears. Dead men’s souls wailed in agony and a consuming swarm was freed from its prisons.
Many will not witness it; some will not believe it. Either way, the aftermath remains. Dangerous strangers now walk Azeroth, with nowhere to go, and nowhere to run.
Prometheus
Ship Log | 37 – Unnamed Sector – 20:34
It’s been a week since we began trailing the Dominion fleet from Korhal. The journey beyond the Koprulu Sector, in theory quite thrilling, has been otherwise unremarkable. We’ve passed few planets, and scans have shown that all of them are desolate husks, inhospitable in all regards. Otherwise, the scenery has been little else than asteroids and cosmic fancies, and we have plenty of those back at home.
The Dominion ships themselves have made no signs of stopping since the fleet split into thirds three days ago. We’ve since been following one of the groups with an escort of four protoss carriers; the remaining protoss split the job of going after the rest of the Dominion. Three of the battlecruisers we’re trailing are larger than the others, running background scans we managed to identify them: the
Helios
, the
Ares
, and the
Tartarus
.
The
Ares
is the most decorated of the three and seemingly leading this section of the fleet. It’s the one we’ll attempt to contact when the Dominion finally stops; we don’t intend to let them release zerg on foreign worlds without a fight. Or allow another planet to be controlled by Mengsk’s tyranny.
Hold on, the navigators have picked up readings from the scanners. We’re coming upon another planet, one that seems to have a hospitable environment. There’s a high chance this is the destination of the Dominion fleet. This log will have to be cut short, we need to prepare communications.
Captain Madison Lee, signing off.
Prometheus
Ship Log | 38 – Unnamed Sector – ?:?
I am Aiden Harvard, intelligence officer and now acting captain of the
Prometheus’
crew, recording this log in the stead of Captain Lee. We found her after the ship’s crash on the bridge, pinned beneath the rubble with near-fatal wounds. For now she’s still alive, but in critical condition in what remains of the ship’s medbay. Until she recovers, I am in charge. I record this from the bridge, where we’ve erected a temporary headquarters until we finish scouring the wreck for survivors and necessary supplies.
The
Prometheus
crashed nearly a day ago, at least, after the firefight above this planet. Captain Lee attempted diplomacy with the Dominion vessel, the
Ares
, to steer them away, but all that erupted was a battle. I can’t say for certain who fired the first shots, Dominion or protoss, but I doubt the result would have been different either way. Ships on both sides went down before we did; the
Tartarus
and the
Ares
went hurtling from the sky alongside a protoss carrier. What happened to the other vessels after the
Prometheus
fell? I have no knowledge.
We attempted to evacuate to the escape pods, but most of them were destroyed in the firefight. Some managed to escape that way; those of us who survived the crashing of the
Prometheus
itself did so only by a miracle. Not everyone did, though. We’ve lost more men than I care to count.
The wreck of the
Prometheus
is surrounded by a jungle region not unlike Bel’Shir. Though it thankfully lacks in fanatical protoss, it makes up for it in other unfriendly natives and creatures. We’ve been assailed by reptilian beasts with powerful hind legs and small forearms, which they make up for with their jagged teeth; monstrous humanoid-like creatures with enormous folds of fat and primitive speech; and gangly creatures with blue skin, two toes, and weapons of poor construction. They haven’t provided much of a challenge for a marine’s rifle, but it brings up another concern.
We’re going to run out of supplies. What sensor equipment survived the wreck hasn’t found any deposits of minerals or vespene; we have stores but many of the vespene tanks were shattered. We don’t have unlimited ammo either, once we run out of that, the marines will have to start snapping necks with their bare hands. If we aren’t all dead by then. Our construction buildings didn’t fare the crash any better. The SCVs report the starport is beyond repair, and the rest of the structures, including the command center, will take time to fix into serviceable shape.
If things could not get any worse, we’re cut off from anybody else that could help us. Our communication systems were destroyed. There’s also the possibility of other wrecks besides the
Prometheus
having survived. We can hope the protoss and their devices survived, but for all we know they lack the resources or the ability to warp help in on this planet. Even worse, if one of those Dominion ships carrying zerg is relatively remains intact…
I will not lie: things are grim. Somehow we need to survive on a planet that may not be able to sustain us, with few forces and no reinforcements, on an unknown planet, and figure out a way to get off of it. Hopefully this world has friendly natives who may be inclined to aid us.
Sadly, I’ve wasted enough time compiling this. Should this log fall into anybody else’s hands, know what has happened to us, whether we remain or don’t.
End.
Hello
foolish peasants
forum goers! The release of
Heart of the Swarm
earlier this year has had me itching for some Starcraft roleplay. Unfortunately the universe is too expansive and vague for our small Starcraft community, so I’ve gone ahead and reused an old idea: Starcraft meet Warcraft, where terrans, protoss, and zerg find their way onto Azeroth.
This means that even if you aren’t a huge Starcraft fan or don’t know much about the universe, you can still participate by playing an Azerothian (even more in character, too!) To make it easier on everyone I’ll be summarizing the need-to-knows that might not have been covered in the verbose intro.
•
The Starcraft Wiki
•
The Warcraft Wiki
• Nine ships were shot down after the space battle above Azeroth, three of those didn’t hit land (one protoss carrier and two Dominion cruisers) and were sunk in the ocean. As a result there are six main crashes on Azeroth.
- The
Prometheus
, the Raynor’s Raiders vessel, crashed in
the Cape of Stranglethorn
- The
Ares
, the Dominion vessel, crashed
in the Eastern Plaguelands
- The
Tartarus
and the
Helios
, both Dominion vessels carrying zerg samples that survive and create hive clusters, crash in
Desolace
and into
Blackrock Mountain
respectively
- The two protoss carriers crash in
Silithus
and
Felwood
• The ships that had escape pods would have launched those out. So if you don’t feel like having characters at any of the main wrecks, you’re free to have them show up in other places because of the escape pods.
• The supplies and units (except for zerg, of course) of the various factions are limited. Protoss are unable to warp in their structures or any additional units on Azeroth.
• The Azeroth in this roleplay is set at the end of Mists of Pandaria, where the factions have finished deposing Garrosh and Thrall has retaken the mantle of Warchief. Everyone is currently recovering from the war. The
timeline
is open, so characters from present and future may be used without consequence.
Lastly, remember to have fun and communicate with your fellows. We’re all friends here (or should be) and it’s important to keep those relationships intact!
Post by
Neonhyper
Character
: Eva Barker, Aiden Harvard, Nora Sanchez
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
“End,” Aiden stated, then flipped the switch to finish the recording.
His shoulders slumped in tandem with a heavy exhale of breath, while his hands tightened around the edge of the holotable. This had been the first chance he had gotten amidst the frantic hours of death tolls, damage reports, and general chaos to record their situation. Recounting it aloud only weighed down the desolate reality.
“That bleak, huh?”
Harvard turned his head to spot the marine, Paul Janson, standing off to the side of the half-collapsed bridge. The SCVs had managed to reroute the generators to power what systems hadn’t been destroyed. In the end, that meant they had access to their data logs and scanning equipment, but little else.
“Unfortunately yes,” the officer muttered under his breath, pushing away from the table and straightening his posture. Janson shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed, the hydraulic hissing of the marine’s armor sounding to his movements. His visor was pulled back, revealing caked blood covering the side of his face, merely a small taste of the injuries.
Aiden himself was scored with burns that had singed his hair and wreaked havoc on his outfit. By some miracle he had managed to spare his coat (at the cost of blistering, black skin on his arms and ruining his turtleneck) from being completely annihilated. The fabric was irritating his burns, not severe enough to warrant medical attention, but was at least keeping him somewhat presentable. Not that the blood matting his hair to the right side of his head was helping with that.
Janson was watching him, waiting for Aiden to make a move. For once, it was not a look of barely veiled contempt or outright disdain. In the midst of this disaster, with their real captain out of commission, the Raiders were finally willing to accept him in command. At least for now. He had to make that time count.
“Let’s see how the defenses are shaping up,” Harvard finally stated, turning and briskly making his way for the hole in the buckled wall of the bridge that led directly to the crater rimmed by jungle outside. After a few moments pause, Janson followed after him, the heavy steps of his armor echoing behind.
Eva nestled comfortably in the crooks of the tree’s branches, her rifle pressed against her shoulder as she held the scope to eye level. Another group of those enormous, half-naked fat humanoids were scrambling outside the perimeter of the base. There were four of them, standing just far enough into the tree line that the sentries wouldn’t be able to notice them. She hadn’t figured they were smart enough to know how to spy, but maybe she wasn’t giving them enough credit. Or they were just lucky.
The attacks on the
Prometheus’
wreck had come in droves after they initially recovered from the crash. Curious, but predatory, creatures had come to investigate for anything to scavenge. After them came the natives, the thin blue ones and the fat ones, shouting in their strange primal languages and bearing down upon the
Prometheus’
meager defenses. Superior firepower drove them off, and their little groups of scouts had grown progressively smaller and further apart.
But they were persistent. Eva bit her lower lip for a brief moment before blowing her bangs out of her face and readjusting her aim. The Ghost wasn’t under cloak, as the jungle itself was a natural cover and she wasn’t keen on wasting energy hiding from things not even looking for her. She tightened her grip on the underside of the rifle’s barrel and held it steady.
One of the lumbering figures was flailing his hands about like a fool, and she wondered for a moment what they wanted to get from the crash site that was worth throwing their numbers at to die. He—at least Eva assumed it was he—stepped forward out of the green brush a few moments later with one of his meaty, thick arms pointed forward in a charge.
She squeezed the trigger, feeling the recoil through her arm, and with a muffled
whump
the native’s head popped like a ripe fruit in a spray of red. His fellows didn’t bother going any farther, turning around and screaming in high pitched wails as they fled back into the jungle. Eva slipped from her perch in the tree, not watching the massive corpse hit the ground, and made her way back to the edge of the crater.
The Ghost had certainly been battered after the crash, but an unconscious psionic shield had left her in a better state than most. A couple of bruises, some dents in her hostile environment suit, and a small cut or two on her face were nothing compared to the injuries of others. She stepped up to the milling line of marines guarding the rim and gave a nod and a thumbs up.
“We’re clear to the east, just another patrol of lards,” she explained.
Eva left the group to a rowdy discussion about the idiotic natives and headed further into the crater.
The moans of the dying and the silence of the dead. Nora was surrounded by that terrible symphony, pushing her to wit’s end to keep the former from becoming the latter. Her hands were numb from pain and stiff from work and a bloody cut across her forehead was giving her a terrible headache, but those were paltry against the men and women half covered in burns and clinging to a thread of life. She set her jaw and replaced the dressing on one victim’s head wound.
They were reduced to old fashioned medicine to treat most of the patients, using every scrap of cloth they could find to bind wounds that quickly became stained with scarlet. Most of the medbay’s tech was smashed to smithereens, along with most of the medbay itself. The room was bent at an odd angle, folded in on itself, leaving little usable space left. Patients spilled out into the dark hallways, organized by how desperate they were. Nora’s mouth twisted. It was a shoddy way to go about it;
everybody
was desperate if they were here, but they had to have priorities.
In the end: it was pure chaos. The medical staff was chopped in half, some of the medics dead on impact or one of the moaning, half-alive individuals on the floor. Barely any of their equipment was useable and most of it was treating the worst of the wounds. They were reliant on making poultices from local plants they hoped weren’t poisonous, and crossing their fingers and praying the victims could hold out.
Nora managed to get some water into the man’s mouth, afterwards shaking the makeshift canteen and realizing it was almost empty. She sighed, giving the victim a gentle clap on the shoulder, “You’re going to be fine,” she stated determinedly, before standing up and moving towards the medbay from the corridor outside of it.
The good thing about the jungle was that there was plenty of fresh water around, used for keeping patient’s hydrated and cleaning wounds and easing less serious burns. Nora filled up her canteen from the bucket set up just inside the medbay, before making a round of the most serious patients set up inside the room on lifeline equipment. At the very end of the room, a tall blonde woman was strapped down in a medical cot, attached to various machines by all manner of wires.
A steady, but weak series of beeps from one monitor was the only indication that Madison Lee was alive. Her breathing was there, but too shallow to be noticed right away. She had been covered in nasty burns from head to toe, deep gashes across her body, and bits of shrapnel lodged in her skin. Nora had done what she could, but the captain wasn’t getting any better.
The blood splattered latina medic folded her arms against her chest and regarded the magistrate, “You can pull through this, Madison. You dang well better, or we’re going to be listening to Harvard for the rest of our lives.”
Post by
Atik
-
Prometheus
Smoke billowed out of the walls of the room, plunging it into a inky blackness and forcing the crew within to cover their mouths with cloths or their hands; not wanting to breath in too much of the potentially toxic fumes.
During the battle in orbit, the Prometheus had attempted to take evasive action, hoping to avoid the brunt of the Dominion's fire that had been aimed at them. It wasn't quite enough, however; the ship simply wasn't built for those sorts of maneuvers and still took several hits, including some to the engines themselves.
Unable to keep itself free of the planet's gravity well, the gigantic ship had begun plummeting, one of the first to slowly break into the bright blue atmosphere below; quickly turning red with flames upon entry.
Now, men and women ran about the engine room frantically, hoping to give them one last push and right the angle of entry; lest the ship itself burn to a crisp before ever touching ground.
"Come... on!" The man grunted, fighting with one of the panels that smoke billowed from; bent and twisted and refusing to actually budge. "Someone get me a knife, or a bar, or something!" He yelled. One of the other engineers quickly found a large metal bar, handing off so the man could pry the panel free.
Sparks and a bright blue glow escapes from the new found opening: more smoke exploding outwards as a device was thrown into the engine's reactor. The group moved back, hoping this plan worked.
A control panel near the door had been rigged with a crude antenna; meant to transmit to the power cells they had thrown into the upper engines. A switch was thrown, and the room suddenly exploded with light.
Outside, several of the ship's engines roared to life; massive white flames coursing out of them and streaking along the sky. The nose of the Prometheus tipped dowards, spearing its way through the flames and parting them as it broke the cloud layer. The ship groaned, accelerating towards the planet's surface with a trail of smoke left behind it.
Cheers resounded from the group within the engine room, only to be drowned out by a horrible screeching sound that echoed within their ears and forced many to bring their hands to the sides of their heads.
With a loud pop, the sound of sheering metal, like someone ripping apart tin foil, echoed through the room. Another burst of light signaled a silent explosion; one of the engines flying free and vanishing into the distance behind the ship.
Where, moments ago, there had been cheers, screamed now filled the room, mixing with the sounds of rushing wind. A woman desperately fought with the door controls, getting the exit opened moments before she lost her footing; flying up and out the hole with a look of utter terror overcoming her.
"Move, move, move!" Someone shouted, the group rushing for the door and out of the room, alarms sounding all along the ship. The floor curved and turned suddenly, the ship lurching as it was turned and aimed; an attempt to make the crash as survivable as possible.
The Prometheus skipped through the sky, nearly sliding along the tops of massive trees that formed a dense canopy as it zoomed for the coast. Branches began to snap as it descended, quickly turning into entire trees breaking under its force, and eventually becoming entirely uprooted as the ship touched down and began to skid along the jungle floor. Sparks flew and the sound of tearing metal and explosion echoed outwards, the Prometheus itself grinding a massive scar into the landscape behind it before finally slowing.
As the earth to either side of it had been kicked up into huge hills, so to was the earth in front of it as it stopped; ripping up and folding back over the nose of the ship, burying it somewhat under the dirt.
Many parts of the crash were still being explored and searched, for survivors or the dead. The lower decks most notably still remained in shambles from the crash; the ship had been gutted, rocks and stones and parts of trees mixing with wires and metal and piles of rubbles.
The large mechanical cat stepped along, a dark blue in color with glowing yellow eyes that illuminated the darkness like a pair of headlights on a car. A dish stuck up out of its open back, listening for any sounds of life.
'Bu-bump... bu-bump...'
A heartbeat. It was feint, and weak, but it was definitely a heartbeat. The Predator raced along, tracking it down to a large branch. The powerful machine made its way underneath the limp, lifting up and moving it to the side.
The engineer lay motionless, hardly breathing and covered in cuts and dried blood, many of his injuries looking like they were becoming infected after so long buried down here. Gripping his arms in its powerful jaws, the Predator pulled him along, out of the rubble and back the way it had come.
Desidaku, Celegosa
Goldshire
"You sure this is where the emergency chest is?" The boy asked. He was young, like the girl he walked through the basement with, looking hardly over thirteen at most. White hair covered his head, and dull red eyes scanned the storage closet.
His sister, on the other hand, looked mildly older; but it was merely a trick of her posture and body language, a certain air around her that seemed to fill the room and draw attention to her. Long shoulder length blue hair fell over a long purple dress that covered her body. "There!" She exclaimed, spotting a chest shoved into the corner.
The two rushed over, opening it and eying the contents before Celene nodded in satisfaction. "Looks good, now help me move it." She said, letting Des grab one end while she took the other. The siblings hefted the container upwards and out of the closet carefully, Des looking behind him as he was forced to walk backwards.
Post by
UrAgahn
Character
: Gregory Mandrake, Mickey Thompson, Alistair Mercer
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
Lieutenant Mandrake approached the crater from the south. In his left hand he carried a severed head of one of the natives - the ones with blue skin and red hair; the cut on the neck was exceptionally clean, and even cauterized to a small degree. Greg held his grim trophy by a wickedly curved tusk-like protrusion jutting out of the upper jaw. Across his broad shoulders lay the weapon to have performed the deed: his warp scythe, dormant for now and waiting for the terran to channel his psionic power into it.
The specter was notably missing his trademark longcoat and scarf, remaining in his customized hostile environment suit. He have gotten out of the crash mostly unscathed, for a couple of bruises and a split brow were trivial compared to what befell all too many of his fellow Raiders, but alas, his coat was damaged beyond any possibility of repair.
"Mandrake here," he spoke into the comm. "All clear to the south for the moment. Also stumbled on something interesting, if any of the science officers is not having their hands full in the infirmary, I would much like to have a word with them."
Then the specter remembered that their communication systems were down and cursed exasperatedly.
'
This is going to be tough for the poor sod...
'
Mickey shook his head, still reeling from the fact that the Magistrate was in coma and a fellow Dominion defector stood in command. It was easier for the short viking pilot to find the trust of the Raiders - fighting, especially against something like the Swarm, really brings people together. In any case, Sergeant Thompson was about to show Harvard his unwavering support, much like he had been doing ever since Korhal - an oddity among the Raiders, which, given the nature of this merry band of misfits, was saying something.
"Officer Harvard, sir," Mickey spoke up finally, with full formality. "I got
Nidhogg
primed and ready; thankfully, he is practically undamaged. Permission to go on a recon flight, sir?"
"Knick-knack, paddywack, give a dog a bone, this old man came rolling home..."
It was anyone's guess why exactly was Alistair muttering nursery rhymes as he fumbled with the damaged equipment in the medical bay, doing his best to fix it with what little he had. The Raider's bloodshot eyes were set deeply against his pale skin, his nostrils were fuming and his eyelids were twitching spasmodically - a result of his stubborn refusal to rest or leave the infirmary ever since the crash had happened. Almost miraculously, his hands were as steady as always; still over the past few hours his progress had been continually slowing.
Post by
lightnstuff
Yerk
The Tartarus, Desolace
The the observant, life is nothing but irony and paradoxes. Perhaps it was by design, or perhaps by chance. The fact of the matter that that in itself was ironic, because it was simply irrelevant. The truth of the matter was that the form of life most imbued with it's fortitude and resilience enacted death in the very core of it's being. From the smallest individual to the titanic giant, the weak was hunted by the strong. In the very act of life, there was death, even at a cellular level. There was irony, that the aptly named Tartarus was in fact a hell for such a creature, suspended in a half-living state, yearning for growth and live with every waking moment, only to be denied it. There was irony in that despite the ship's near flawless condition, in spite of everything that had happened around it, the little bit of damage to it was in fact the worst. There was irony that the smallest creature of the fearsome zerg, would be it's captors undoing.
Heedless to this irony, the little zergling Yerk began to claw it's way free of it's damage tank.
Post by
Neonhyper
Character
: Eva Barker, Aiden Harvard, Nora Sanchez
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
Aiden halted mid-stride as Mickey approached, turning his head to the side enough to gesture at Janson to go on ahead, "I'll catch up. Just make sure the SCVs aren't dawdling for now."
The marine nodded with a rough grunt, most likely his parting message for everyone, before moving off. Harvard turned his attention back to the Viking pilot, "Granted, Sergeant," the officer replied, "but keep out of sight and don't go too far. I want to know what's surrounding us but we don't need to agitate anymore natives."
The last thing they needed was one of their functioning aircrafts getting shot down, after all.
Eva moved around a group of SCVs dragging a broken siege tank from the lower decks of the
Prometheus
, back pedaling for a few more feet with only the drifting thoughts of others as a directional guide. At one point, she paused, turned around, and was standing a few feet away from the Spectre Lieutenant.
"Are you going barbarian on us already?" the Ghost asked with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the severed head Gregory was holding.
"Oi!"
A blunt stick, which was actually a thin metal rod that might have belonged to some part of the ship at one point, whapped Alistair upside the head. Nora loomed over him with a glare, "How many times do I need to tell you to get out of the medbay to get it through your woolheaded skull!"
Character
: Nicostraez
Location
: Goldshire, Elwynn Forest
Standing at the top of the staircase, waiting for his two siblings, was another young boy. He had spindly frame that looked like a stiff breeze might knock him over, wrapped in immaculate clothing only a hair more casual than something one would wear to a formal party. His burnished gold eyes were hiding behind a pair of round glasses perched on his nose, and his short hair was a dark shade of muted purple.
Nico's held trace few emotions as he held the door to the main floor open for Celene and Des, "We're still clear," he intoned, "nobody's home."
Post by
Sparkbolt
Character: Cori
Location: Goldshire
"C'mon Wibbles we don't have all day." A young boy called barley older then fifteen. He had short black hair and violet eyes and was wearing a black linen shirt and pants with leather boots. He picked up his backpack and sat it on his shoulders before grabbing his rifle and began to make his way into the town. Behind him a robot followed him, Mr. Wibbles stood five feet tall with a rectangular metal body with a rounded top and a single large blue eye centered in it's body. It's arms and legs floated beside and below it respectively held in place by arcane magic. The robot beeped before following after Cori.
Post by
Atik
William Triberk, C.O.L.A.
Prometheus
Continuing to drag its discovery, the Predator had eventually made its way to the med lab, dropping the limp man just ouside the door. The 'Combat Oriented Light Asset', or COLA as it had come to be known, sat down outside. Clicking sounds sounded from it in hopes of being noticed.
Desidaku, Celegosa
Goldshire
"Nice." Celene nodded, grinning. Des was too busy trying not to drop the chest onto her to commented, slowly making his way past Nico and stopping as the two set the supplies down. "Now we just have to get the cart hooked up and get out of here before she's back."
The Albino nodded, panting and wheezing.
"You're not done yet." Celene poked him, looking to Nico. "Help him get the chest out in the cart, and get Spike hooked up. I'll work on the note."
Post by
UrAgahn
Character
: Gregory Mandrake, Mickey Thompson, Alistair Mercer
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
"Affirmative. I will return within an hour, sir."
Mickey saluted smartly and headed away, whistling under his nose. Getting his viking operational was indeed easier than one would expect in such circumstances, in no small part thanks to one of his friends among the Raiders, a former firebat turned goliath pilot with a great affinity to machines. Granted, the moment Alistair had heard their Magistrate was unconscious in the medbay he bolted away, but the brunt of the work on
Nidhogg
had already been dealt with by that moment.
"These buggers regenerate, Eves," Greg replied, holding up the head for the Ghost to inspect. "I sneaked up on one of their camps, there was some sort of occult ritual going on there. They cut their palms to pour their blood into a cauldron, and their wounds closed before my very eyes.
I figured, they look kinda humanoid. Maybe our eggheads can fashion some healing serum from their blood? Now, I'm no xenobiologist, so I grabbed the most obvious sample."
Alistair raised his head to look Nora in the eyes. Wordlessly, he held up a heretofore damaged and now fully functional infusion pump; kneeling as he was, it looked as if Mercer were humbly offering a sacrifice to a statue of a very angry goddess. Disregarding the violent shuddering of his eyelids, he stared at the medic unblinkingly, waiting for her to say something.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Arthur Quiz
Location:
Blackrock Mountain
The smoking remnants of the ship still steamed skyward languidly. Pieces of the wreck were scattered here, there, and every which where over the black and rocky region. Deep in the ash flecked dust, broken and shattered rocks and former spires formed by centuries of magma activity, a deep furrow was dug into the earth. It went on for nearly a mile, the swath of destruction gradually narrowing until it reached the source.
Hovering near the lip of a great gap in the earth from which the stink of sulphur and miasma of volcanism sat a squat, cylindrical vessel with a stubbed nose and no windows. The thick metal constructing the pod was largely undamaged save scratches and heat marks from its entry. A single large door sat at the rear of the vessel with a small, thick window set at the top.
Something banged at the door. One, twice, thrice. At the fourth blow the door launched itself off with a hiss, skidding into the muddy scar in the earth. A black booted foot slammed into the smoking ground, a thick if dusty orange lab coat settling about it as a solitary figure stood to his full height. He had short cropped brown hair and a thin face. His brown eyes were shaded by a wrap around black visor, which beeped and ticked thoughtfully as he looked around, informing their owner of interesting specimens about him.
"Well," the former Dominion researcher murmured to himself, "@#$%."
He glanced back to the escape pod, wondering if anyone else had survived the trip down to terra firma.
Post by
Neonhyper
Character
: Eva Barker, Aiden Harvard, Nora Sanchez
Location
: Prometheus Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
Aiden sighed, wincing at a throb of pain in his head and the burning sensation along his arms. He clenched his hands into fists and jogged in the direction that Janson had gone earlier, while keeping an eye out on the flurry of activity surrounding him. Makeshift bunkers had been erected at certain points along the perimeter, marines milled about in the open in the segments between. SCVs were in the midst of dragging relatively intact sensor towers to be hooked up and extend their range of view.
The
Prometheus
itself had cleanup crews moving back and forth with boxes of ammo and minerals, tanks of vespene, and rundown machinery and broken vehicles. They'd repair as many as they could, the rest would be salvaged for scrap metal and parts better used somewhere else.
Harvard surveyed the rate of construction, which was surprisingly ahead of what he had expected. He held back a smile and approached the outward perimeter where Janson was berating some of the SCVs.
"A head," Eva said flatly, the disbelief on her expression only becoming greater. "You sure your's didn't take a better hit to it? Maybe you're hallucinating."
Nora narrowed her eyes at the man, looking between the pump and Alistair as if judging the worth of the offering. She snatched the device and pointed the metal rod at him, "You need sleep," was all she said, before storming off.
After a few moments she cocked her head to the side at the sound of clicking, an unusual, repetitive noise she was sure didn't belong to any of their working machines. She made her way to the exit of the room, and came face to face with COLA, "Oh hey--bloody blasted stars!" she cut herself off the moment she noticed the unconscious engineer the Predator had dragged in.
"He's not dead! Triberk's alive!" or at least, that was what Nora was hoping, as she proceeded to bark off orders to the nearest medic who seemed to be milling about uselessly to get William into the medbay.
Character
: Nicostraez
Location
: Goldshire, Elwynn Forest
"As long as you don't tell her where we are," Nico stated coolly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "We don't need to complicate this any more by letting her find us immediately."
He eyed the chest somewhat distastefully, but grabbed the end that Celene had previously been holding, and with a lot of obvious effort, managed to lift it up to help carry it the rest of the distance out of the shop.
Post by
Sparkbolt
Character: Cori
Location: Goldshire
"Here we are." Cori said as he approached the shop. "Stay out here Wibbles." He said to the robot before pushing open the front door and stepping into the shop. "Aunt Sasha?" He called looking around.
Post by
UrAgahn
Character
: Gregory Mandrake, Mickey Thompson, Alistair Mercer
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
Gregory sighed.
"Just watch, okay?" he implored, returning the scythe to the sheath hanging on his back next to his rifle. The specter then took out a knife and drew it against his trophy's forehead.
The dark blood coagulated with astonishing speed, even taking the small depth of the cut into consideration, and when Mandrake plied it away, a thin layer of new skin had already formed.
"And it's been dead for twenty minutes. Eves, I'm not denying I'm crazy. But, you should know by this point that my madness had a method to it, most of the time applicable to our current predicament," the specter smirked.
He then pulled up the visor of his helmet so that his face could actually be seen and smirked again.
"I can help," Alistair said quietly, standing up. He walked quickly towards the entrance, taking a hold of Triberk's ankles and expecting the medic bossed around by Nora to pick him up by the wrists, or some other part in the upper half of the body.
"How convenient," Mickey chuckled darkly several minutes later as he marched his vehicle under a gaping hole in the hull.
Nidhogg
flew up vertically, quickly gaining altitude.
"What the- a whirlpool? Looks interesting..." Thompson murmured after taking a glimpse in the eastern direction. The transforming craft took off, leaving twin trails in its wake.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character:
Phillip Quiz
Location:
Blackrock Mountain
"Come on...come on...just a sign and a wire here..." Quiz grunted. The object which he spoke to happened to be a distress beacon, the case of which he had cracked open and was attempting to repair. "Come on...Yes!" he cried, the screen sparking to life. For all of two seconds before it blipped dark again. Quiz's face fell accordingly.
"What? No! Nononono!" Arthur cried, shaking the box. "Don't you quit one me! Don't you dare! Stay with me! Stay with me! Come on baby! No. No! I...Don't-yaaugh!" he cried, throwing his arms up as the box sparked and flashed before him, sending the researcher scrambling back.
First darkness, then the smell of burned plastic filled the escape pod as Quiz lowered his arm to stare at the fried means of his salvation.
"...Oh, isn't that just perfect."
Post by
lightnstuff
Jax
Prometheus Crash Site
The reaper perched on a nearby tree like some sort of freakish vulture. His manic grin was etched permanently on his face like that of a skull. Slowly he scanned the crash site border until he spotted movement. With that he was gone.
Yerk
Tartarus Crash Site
Yerk peeled his way from his steel cocoon quietly, knowing that it was not yet time to attract attention. Dull as it was, Yerk felt some psychic influence guiding his actions. Suppressing chirps the zergling immediately scaled the wall and attached itself to the ceiling. The dominion personnel were still stunned, much to it's advantage, and it took only moments to gently remove, rather than destroy the vent grating and enter.
Post by
Neonhyper
Character
: Eva Barker, Aiden Harvard, Nora Sanchez
Location
: Prometheus Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
Eva watched the native's severed, healing head as if Mandrake were carrying a baneling like a baby.
"Yeah, that might do it. Maybe," Eva replied, taking a couple, careful steps away from the Lieutenant and the extremity.
Nora waited until Alistair and the other medic had gotten William set up (on a table that had previously been housing some sharp implements that Nora had cleared away) before setting to work immediately cleaning out the man's wounds. She barked orders to the other medic to get a list of supplies before committing her concentration to helping the injured engineer.
Post by
UrAgahn
Character
: Gregory Mandrake, Mickey Thompson, Alistair Mercer
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, The Cape of Stranglethorn
Now that Nora's attention was otherwise occupied and no one tried to tell him what to do, Alistair rubbed his eyes tiredly and returned to fixing the equipment. He cringed a little when his stomach growled in protest.
"If it gets that reaction outta you, I can only imagine what will Harvard do," Greg guffawed. He grew serious shortly afterwards, though, adding, "Though I suppose with the command on his shoulders, he doesn't have time to care."
His face darkened as he turned his head in the medbay's general direction.
Post by
Monday
Character
: Soren Baldurson
Location
:
Prometheus
Crash Site, Cape of Stranglethorn
"He looks in bad shape," Soren commented, nodding at the engineer. The Ghost, displaying his usual disdain for anything approaching formality, was leaning against the wall, observing. "Sorta surprised he's still alive, to be honest."
Post by
Atik
William Triberk, C.O.L.A.
Prometheus
William remained, quite notably, unconscious. His breathing was feint, and one could only guess at his injuries beyond those visable with the naked eye.
COLA had opened its chasis, revealing stores of small emergency supplies, several looking like they had been scavenged from the deeper bowels of the ship before it had returned.
Desidaku, Celegosa
Goldshire
"Oh crap." Des gasped, nearly dropping the chest as the yell met his ears.
"She's not here!" Celene yelled back, pouring the carton of milk she had snagged from the fridge down the sink as she wrote.
Dear mom and dad,
We ran out of milk and ran to get some more. Be back soon.
<3 Celene!
Post by
Sparkbolt
Character: Cori
Location: Goldshire
"Where did she go Celene?" Cori asked as he walked into the kitchen and stopped when he noticed the chest. "What's that for?" He asked.
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