The Little Shop of Weapons

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The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Janus on Fri Dec 26, 2014 7:18 pm

First topic message reminder :

The hustle and bustle of the city was without a doubt in it's usual swing. Businesses constantly coming and going so fast due to crime, high rent, poor sales, and what not. It was with these 'natural' sources that a single shop could slide in and occupy a small building cramped between two others. No windows, and the entrance was below street level. One would need to use the stairs to descend down to the buildings entrance, as there was a separate business above the lower. The only hint at what this new business was, would be a very plain sign with an anvil and a hammer. A forge. Should one dare the short trip down the stairs, they would find the front door. Past this, the store itself. Cramped, small, and every single inch that wasn't floor space filled with weapons and armor of all classes. However something was very odd. Not a single item was doubled, unless required ( Such as gauntlets, boots, twin daggers / swords ). Also, perhaps it was the lighting but something was different about the items. Their quality, if the eyes of the customer where trained well enough to see, is beyond the level of any other merchant on the streets. The light source itself was simple orbs of magical light stuck to the ceiling.

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Ayla_Stark on Mon Jun 08, 2015 5:26 pm

Ayla eventually found an exit from the weapons shop and into a nearby alleyway though found herself disoriented as far as where to go next. She knew that turning one way would send her to the center of the fight (not necessarily what she wanted to do at that moment), the other end remaining clear. One step in the safer direction proved the wrong decision as a building (the one that Galvery had been fight on top of) collapsed, blocking the alley with rubble. The force of the collapse knocked her feet from under her, her back smacking the ground hard. After rolling onto her stomach and pushing herself on the ground, she picked up her weapons and shook her head a bit, looking behind her at the empty alleyway and before her at the collapsed building. Deciding what she thought to be the safer route, climbing carefully over the rubble to try to find her way out.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Galvery on Mon Jun 08, 2015 6:08 pm

The young half-blood watched as Patrekk went flying off and into a neighboring building, which put him at ease until he look and saw Malice the Ork in trouble now as it was but he wouldn't have time to worry about that. The rooftop had become horrendously weakened and he went falling through the floor with a whole ceiling of concrete coming down on top of him; which, caused the next floor to become unstable, but fortunately for the time being it still held together. A cry of surprise escaped the Elementian as he fell through, then a gasp for air as the wind was completely knocked from his lungs, then the groans as he sat on the third floor of the four story building groaning from the agony of a few broken rib bones and a punctured lung. Gasping for air he begins to struggle, pushing large blocks of concrete off of him and then very slowly stands as he begins limping his way down the hallway to try and find an exit, locating his handcannon as he does so.

Lacking the current strength to fight back he holds his handcannon at ready, shaking somewhat as blood filters into his right eye from the breach of his hairline. Speaking to himself he says, "I must go help Mr. Malice...and that girl... I must." Even now his thoughts roamed from his own problems of three broken ribs, punctured lung, reinjured knee and a busted cranium.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by MaliceD on Mon Jun 08, 2015 6:30 pm

Blood spewed from the orks mouth and down his aegis armor. He felt his ribbs crack though not exactly fully break due to the combination of his orkish frame and Aegis armor. However the damage was still significant everything felt light as a feather until he went through the stalls, through a outhouse and through the window of the building on the same floor Gal had landed in. Rubble and glass covered the ork as he held his ribbs and coughed, thanks to his armor no glass had managed to cut him.` id amite, that was a good swing, `he coughed up a bit more blood shoveing debree from him and stood.(charge 7) `pft` he sounded before he blinked and glanced to the lad, `fancy meeting you here Lad, how many are left` Mal would never admite this but his body was showing signs of not only damage but heavy breathing with his chest rising and falling as fast as it was.the Sanctuary, the haulocaust where expensive. Giving the distance from the leader he figured he had mabye less then a minute before he to would charge inside. Then the ideal struck him. Lad get them inside, we will bring the building down on them currently he didn't realise their other partner was near or in the building, but he did say it loud enough mabye she could hear the orks voice echoing. To his feet he went. The helmet revealing a bloodied mouth that was streaming down his chin. The Ork however was smiling seeming enjoying his self, after all it was the way of the ork battle was everything to them.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Wed Jun 10, 2015 1:11 pm

Hren was irate, his men had fled, and his partner had been put temporarily out of commission. It would be some time before the ruffians would regroup if they came back at all, while Patrekk was in a similar situation. It was all up to Hren and he was gratified to feel Malices' frame fly into the building. He was tempted to press the assault, the burns on his body fueling his anger but he tempered it with a bit of strategy. He focused his essence inward into his throat staying a distance from the ramshackled building apparently preparing for a ranged attack...

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Ayla_Stark on Wed Jun 10, 2015 1:39 pm

Ayla's brows furrowed as she looked around her, having heard Malice's voice but not seeing him or Galvery anywhere. Seeing no immediate way into the collapsed building, she climbed a pile of debris carefully, finding both of them quickly. She looked between the two silently, taking note of their extensive injuries, just then noticing her more minor ones. Her right cheek burned from a slowly bleeding cut just below her eye, receiving from a piece of glass that had blown out of a window though no glass embedded in the cut itself, luckily. Her left sleeve had been nearly shredded and a painful looking piece of glass had nearly run through her forearm. Noting the injury, she tore the shreds of sleeve from the shirt, to assess the real damage to her arm, she then carefully tore the other sleeve from the shirt, holding it in her mouth as she slowly removed the glass, groaning softly, quickly tying the scrap around the wound, pulling it tight with her teeth. After making sure that she had now other possibly life-threatening injuries, she looked back at the other two. "What happened to you two?"
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Galvery on Wed Jun 10, 2015 2:37 pm

The young half-blood jerked the pistol aiming his sights right on Malice with the intentions of pulling the trigger, but he stops the instinctive reaction just in time. That goof grin of the Orks putting him at ease and with a swollen eye/busted gum he smiles at him saying, "Hey there." However when he mentioned bringing the building down he grimace as he replies, "There might be innocent people in this building we can't do it and say its just collateral damage. I cant live with something like that." Looking around he sighs an adds, "Let me check something." Concentrating his extraterrestrial senses he extends his "sight" and observes the area from a three-dimensional view; which, in a sensory view much like that of Daredevil he senses all around him within viable proximity. Hren was within that proximity and he could also see there were no roughians around as they for the most part retreated, but something was afoot he could feel the shift in power as the monster commander drew from his innate.

Right then the girl from before arrived, which unfortunately he could not outright remember her name for the situation has been too chaotic. He opens his eyes looking at the two of them and says, "Hurry. Get out of the building. There's some kind of tunnel beneath here." The Elementian can feel the power he was generating at the top of the building before his untimely descent, but something was different about it for it seemed vastly greater this time and he'd loft that Hand of the Oiad to aim directly where Hren is standing. Bolts of electricity slither up his body and into gauntlet until he unleashes an actual beam of lightning with the voltage an ampage enough to light up an entire suburban area. It's enough force and power to char the concrete wall into a perfect circle approximately 2.5x2.5 ft and it streaks with the immeasurable speed of lightning straight for Hren. Immediately following his ki had been dramatically drained and he is left more vulnerable than he was, nearly dropping to the ground with his weapons in hand as he continues to say, "Run."
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Wed Jun 10, 2015 2:50 pm

As Hren had prepped and the building ampage within Galvery was increased to such a degree, preternatural senses were not required to sense it. Hren let his own attack release from his maw, having focused his essence to charge particles within his body with the negative-force inherent to his species. The particle was released out of his mouth in the form of a bright ball violet streaking lightning designed to meet the lightning-beam midway between combatants and cause an extreme pulse of heat, and concussive force that would weaken the molecular bonds of the ground beneath the building and the stalls, within 15 feet leading into the sewer-tunnel beneath the group, leaving Hren just at the cusp of the fissure unable to see as what remained of various stalls and shacks left debris and dust everywhere.

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by MaliceD on Wed Jun 10, 2015 4:04 pm

Seeing Ayla, and Gal and after the release of Gal ki into the lightening blast. The collision of energy began to cause the building to tilt. for sake of all that is fair! as the building began to fall he had only one choice. He positioned his self to grab hold of Ayla, and Gal pulling them into a bear hug before he roared with a Shockwave dumping all the stored energy, all the energy he had left in his body into this their chance. Sanctuary roared to life like a sphere surrounding them much like a drill bit. Accessing his already empowered orkish muscles he would attempt to lift them feeling the pain from his ribs but charge up toward the wall on the opposite side of the building that Hren would be facing. If contact happened with the wall a loud explosion shock-waved through the building exploding the portion like shrapnel all around the field he had produced. As the feel he turned his body to be on the bottom before it slammed creating heir line cracks and a trimmer that echoed throughout the city streets shaking other buildings from the force in which they had hit. His body would act like a shock adsorbent for the other two while his own would be cushioned by the Sanctuary that hit first. However the force was still great. The ork felt that burning pain of his bones creaking and cracking, and breaking in his rib cage. Two rib's had broken from where the mace of Hren had collided with before. Blood splattered from his mouth and nose. Mal was out cold simply laying there. The shield shattering around the two, but at-least they would be safe for the moment. His arms went limp slamming into the pavement releasing them from his grasp.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Ayla_Stark on Wed Jun 10, 2015 4:14 pm

Ayla nearly lost her balance as the building began to give out beneath their feet. Not having anytime to consider her own next move, she and Galvery were pulled into Malice's arms and they left the collapsing building, only the collide with the wall of another. After they landed on the floor of the new building, she rolled a few feet away, landing hard on her injured arm though her makeshift bandage still held up. Lifting herself off of the ground and into a seated position, she assessed the current damage, seeing that she was the least injured (by far) of the bunch. This was of no comfort at all as her fighting up til now had mostly been based on luck and overly good aim. She shook Malice carefully and looked over at Galvery as she loaded the crossbow (which had thankfully not been damaged too badly) with one of the exploding darts, just in case. Staring towards the missing wall and aiming carefully, she spoke. "I don't suppose either of you are still in any condition to fight...?" She said, her voice shaking a bit though her aim remained steady.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Galvery on Wed Jun 10, 2015 4:53 pm

Groaning Galvery manages to his feet looking to Alyla and nods as he says, "We can't stay here and fight.." Sighing he grips his now four broken ribs, heaving air as he does so and says, "Get Malice out of here. I'll hold them off." Wiping blood from his mouth he grips his father's handcannon, then turns to make his way towards an open porthole or else known as a window where he climbs out. Using the debri as a stairway the young Elementian bravely makes his way down to ground level, wobbling a bit under his own weight as he reaches a half-way point to eye Hren. Surely Galvery was vastly outclassed, but he had to give the others time to escape and so he tries the first weakness of any bad guy...monologues, "What are you trying to prove here bro? You think it shows your strength by beating on people when you vastly out number them?" He grins as the handcannon is held at ready, but for the time being he does not yet fire. The plan was to occupy the powerhouse while the others escaped not get himself killed.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Thu Jun 11, 2015 2:42 pm

The crew had still managed to remain above ground, despite the falling debris beneath them. There was an easy escape route for them through the sewers, but they did not seem to want to take it. Galvery volunteered to hold off Hren. As the male spoke Hren hit the ground beneath him, backing up as he did so so as not to weaken the foundations anymore. This caused a stone to pop up which he hit with unerring accuracy like a baseball aiming at legs from the young Elementians left side, as the purple sheen on the cudgel seemed to pass itself onto the stone as it traversed beyond the speed any normal human could have batted it at. He did not waste time talking to the youth, but if he had he would have pointed out it seemed to just be them now.

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Ayla_Stark on Thu Jun 11, 2015 2:52 pm

Ayla had looked down at the now unconscious Malice as Galvery spoke, silently questioning how she would get him out without help. As Galvery left, she unloaded the crossbow, putting away the bolt and then strapping the weapon itself to her back with the two quivers. She then turned and stood at the orc's head, bending down to try to lift him by pulling up under his shoulders. Though she managed to drag him a very small distance, she didn't dare try anymore, not knowing how badly he was injured nor wanting to injure herself. Had she been a lesser person, she would have just left but so far both of her companions had saved her life, the orc doing so more than once. As she couldn't move him alone, she retrieved the crossbow and loaded it again, sitting down next to him, deciding to merely try her best to defend him until he woke up.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Galvery on Sat Jun 13, 2015 1:22 pm

The young Elementian was beyond exhausted at this point with a plethora of injuries to boot, but that did not mean take this punishment lying down. The handcannon he had trained on the monster Hren would be put to work as he repeatedly taps the trigger-the hammer popping off round after round and if the commander was to move Galvery would follow with the iron-sights. First round the singing crystal bullet would spin through the air with the lethal impact of a .50 caliber, but just before colliding with the rock it would emit its song and then suddenly transform with a small burst of magic into an iron cannonball; which, of course would smash through the stone with little effort and continue to traverse with increasing speed. The next eleven rounds will follow as such: Two iron cannonballs, three steel twenty inch spikes, three magical energy warheads(non-elemental) with the payload equivalent to a tomahawk missile and three steel circular saw blades. As the half-blood lets off round after round he backs up, putting more distance between himself and the might Hren, which his plans was "Fight to runaway," and that was exactly what he was doing. Feeling tinges' throughout his body he thought it was only the nerves in his injured body reacting, but unknown to him something hereditary was churning.

Deep beneath the flesh all the way down to his very DNA the well practiced Arcane Genetics of high Elementian culture was at work. His body was preparing itself for something huge about to happen. His temperature was dramatically rising to where he was bleeding sweat, emitting even steam from his pores and his bones even felt on fire. After all twelve rounds would be fired off whether impeded or not Galvery would drop to the ground screaming in agony as he cries out, "I'm on fire!" The A.E cells infused with transfiguration magic multiply while dispensing power into the young man's frame, which even those with simplistic senses could feel the tremendous fluctuations of his aura. The first thing on him to change being his eyes as that take on a more animalistic view with blue glowing rings of mama encompassing the iris, then his skin turns a brilliant hot red as bumps from the osteodermis forming beneath the human-like flesh while the organ stretches tight to the point it looks like its about to rip with his slow increase in size.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by MaliceD on Sun Jun 14, 2015 3:55 pm

The humming sound of a concussion forming echoed in his mind. The first thing that came back was his eyes opening revealing a haze of his vision. Then as that faded realisation sat in like a smack across his face. The first then that might be heard from him was a low Growl. `Fine if this is what the gods wish then so be it.` his ribbs hurt like hell but slowly he arose infront of Ayla growling and unfastening the Gauntlets that he wore. He had tried to keep his self in check. He was tired of it. Sore to the point each breath was harming him. It was true, his body was out of Energy, his gauntlets had lost all his charges. So what however the Ork in him has his orkish blood pumping with excitement. First the left gauntlet revealing those tribal marking around his left arm. The the right. Revealing diffrenet marking along side it. Holding those guantlets in hand he decided. Dropping the gauntlets his hands came together fist in hand. A spark of his energy ignited from his Soul creating a chain reaction throughout his body. He had no energy to give, and yet something was empowering him. The spark struck again before suddenly like a 57 chevy his base energy spiked to life. A heavy breath even though he had the beginnings to start over his body couldn't take to much. Leaving down and lifting the Nemisis Gauntlets he tied them to his belt and pulled from his waist a pistol=e=
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Ayla_Stark on Sun Jun 14, 2015 6:54 pm

Hearing Malice stir, she looked down, watching him rise slowly. "You alright there?" She asked, peering out of the whole in the wall as she heard the commotion outside. Blinking a bit as she watched a bit of the happenings, she turned back to Mal, looking almost concerned. "Can you walk alright?" She asked, lifting the already loaded crossbow, pulling the trigger before ducking down. The exploding dart hit some target nearby, causing a wall of fire to ignite, perhaps because of the open sewer, between Galvery and them. Having already found another exit door on the other side of the building, she forced the door open and stared back at Mal, again inquiring about his condition. "I think he can fend for himself for now..."
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Mon Jun 15, 2015 12:13 pm

The first grenade-rock was completely destroyed as the improvised sphere crashed through it, but Batting up, Hren merely swung again moving off line of the cannon, and seeking to send it back at Galvery, competing against its "magic" (or whatever force was driving it.) To the point of being able to deflect it, or even send it back. Hren also had considerable strength to do this, and was stepping off line just in case his combined strength and innate negative force were not enough, but the action of hitting the cannonball would cause it to fragment outward towards the sudden volley of Artillery Galvery was releasing iron shards hitting the spikes and other spheres, each shard containing an infusion of negative-energy that would have a corrupting influence on the field of whatever it touched.-
-if all went according to plan the shards of charged iron would knock the spikes aside, divert the cannonspheres off course, and cause them to explode as well, and interfere with the missiles causing them to detonate prematurely. Of course this was enough to blast the streets even further, and now the ground all but opened up for a distance of an entire block as half a dozen shock-waves ensued and even Hren was blasted back into the house behind him, anyone within the space of the attack probably falling into the sewers, as Even Hren probably suffered a spike through the arm, and half a dozen lacerations from the iron-shards.

Hren spat. "Reckless amateurs..."the male he had been fighting had been reckless, and had innate power, the latter was one thing, but that recklessness had caught him off guard and had gone beyond either opponents control, it had made things messy so this could not be finished as cleanly as Hren wanted. Even so the property damage sure as hell would make a statement and that had been the entire reason for this little shin-dig. He got up and cracked his neck pulling one of those spikes from his body and tossing it aside. He looked to the side and saw Patrekks broken body twitching in the rubble, the whites of his eyes showing as dried blood fell from his mouth. "Get up Patrekk, I know that did not kill you..." The ambiguously gendered but most likely male youth's seemed to stir as he let out a small coughing sound and rolled over. "That...That bastard...I'll definitely get him... Next time..."

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Galvery on Mon Jun 15, 2015 1:57 pm

Definitely outmatched and outclassed Galvery continues his transformation as the monster Hren thwarts yet another attack; however, if things were to be assessed the Hobbe family might see this as a loss. The patron of the destroyed weapons shop had long since fled, leaving these three to defend the shop; though, in truth they fought for themselves and one another. The Hobbe family had lost a lieutenant and several underlings, while the higher UPS themselves taken a beating. The Ork, woman and Galvery only took a beating, losing nothing. The half-blood is lost beneath the debri as he falls into the sewers, while narrowly avoiding the repelled cannonball; though, he was knocked unconscious under the rubble before completing his transformation.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by MaliceD on Mon Jun 15, 2015 3:20 pm

The moment he had stablized his footing the ground gave way. The words fuuuuuuuccccc sounded as he reached forward trying to grab hold of Ayla. If successfull. His arms and body attempted to cocone around her using his larger frame like a shield forthis woman. Crash his side hit first air escaped violently before the pavement and stone came crashing on top of them. Using the last spark of Energy he managed to time it and bring up sancturary to deflect any object to the left or right that would kill them instantly. This left him breathing heavy. If he had managed to grab and tuck Ayla in he start releasing her and simply lay on his back with probably her position on his stomich gasping to suck in air....that hurt like a bitch.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Ayla_Stark on Mon Jun 15, 2015 3:44 pm

Ayla felt the ground beneath them tremble just before it gave out. A momentary look over shock flooded her features as she lifted her arms to cover her face and head in preparation for the fall. Only after the pair hit the ground beneath them did she realize that Malice had grabbed her and shielded both of them from the debris. Rolling onto her back and looking above them before sitting up slowly, she looked over at him as some of the dust started to settle. "What do we do now?" She asked, eying him with a slightly concerned look.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Wed Jun 17, 2015 10:47 pm

They were saved by the depth of water beneath their feet, luck perhaps playing a role in the fact they were not crushed by the falling debris, the rapidity of the water ensuring they quickly go away from the danger zone, falling through. It would dump them down unceremoniously a few feet into a grated flooring. Chunks of stone and wood falling for a bit. (Which would probably be when Ayla sat up.)

When they would get up, they would be surrounded by stone, wet with lichen, and the sound of running water was around them. The grated floor they stood upon was a square in shape, and had two tunnels, one at the north of the room, and one at the west.

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Nethuama on Sun Jun 21, 2015 3:23 am

[Falling into Line.] A violent spectacle in the skirting industrial district had drawn all sorts of attention. Visitors and denizen alike faced the direction of this commotion; gunfire was a banal factor to the city hitherto. Explosions heralded much worse. Warriors of the land flocked to the sight, eager to sate their need for action. As if adventure was not enough, they desired a glorious pile-in to display their prowess.

However, among these bellicose parties, there was one approaching force whose purpose was deeper. The familiar cry of canine aberrations soon came into earshot; strange creatures tainted by the Deadeye ‘Hiems’ whose bodies took a most terrifying transformation. Having grown to over five feet in height, their skin had split in various areas to reveal an array of lights. Energies seethed from the tears, brimming with anomalous clusters of consciousness. It was an odd pressure, a perversion to the pandimensional flows. Now they seemed almost skeletal; saliva pouring from their mouths through the countless rows of teeth. Those with acute senses would have already picked up on their advance accompanied by the rumbling of a great engine. Its cacophonic tune would be deafening to the mind itself. It was wide and rather clunky looking, large sponsons scattered about its hull. Six wheels carried it forward, plating drilled directly into the dense material whose structure held no air ([You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] huge wheels instead of tracks, ask for approximate size).

It crushed what lied in its way, bursting through barricades set up to prevent pass-through traffic. The debris tumbled along the hull, flung into whatever resided beside the road including any derelict chose to venture out. If not, they were to be consumed by dust and airborne garbage released from the wells. These vehicles were not allowed in the inner-city but outside it went unnoticed, and the owner of such a hulking beast of technology knowing this full well. Such a tool was required to properly execute their plan, but this was unknown thus far. Eventually it and the hounds came around the southwest corner, the earth trembling at their very presence.

Blam! Smashing through another road-barricade, it climbed over the stump and stopped, air-brakes scratching at the ears. It was uncertain so far what this chunk of metal’s use was, perhaps it had a giant weapon inside or was a transport? Only time would tell. There were a few seconds before the engine’s growling had ceased, the thunk of disengaging locks drowned by the fire feeding at Janus’ shop. Soon the hatch at the left would open, rustling echoing from within the port before somebody emerged.

Our Nostrum… Her skin was dark, complimented by deep bourbon hair whose bangs were split down the middle; the remainder was tied back carelessly by violet ribbons. Zephyrs that slithered around the sector’s buildings pushed those concealing locks aside to show her small face and high cheek bones overshadowed by orbs of emerald. All of this was to go unnoticed, of course, once they recognized that strength-amplifying frame her employer had first sported. The whizzing and subtle hiss with each movement filled in the silence, lifting what appeared to be a microphone from beneath the opening’s rim.

Click! Airway open... Her lips curled into a half-smirk, the words bottling inside her small neck before they were broadcasted, “We do hate to intrude on such a capricious rabble, but all those who are not Mister Hren and Mister Patrekk to mind their business and go on their merry,” Her last few words were emphasized by minor pauses, her voice thick with the Olde English dialect. Pressing the button once more, her breath caressed the microphone’s shell, “As for Mister Hren and Patrekk, I know you two are there because you aren’t supposed to be here; the Hawk never lies,” Her voice was now sly, almost as if she was at the final hours of the business day. Her last words were an obvious display of faux reasoning, “We only wish to speak with you two.” The woman slinked down, her eyes just over the port’s line; there was more than enough expression in those two pools.

Meanwhile those hounds would spread out, paws grabbing at the street as they enclosed Hren’s and Patrekk’s position yet did not continue. This was due to the device upon their backs that regulated the energies coursing throughout, utilizing this to control their volatile behavior. If he were in a hole of some sorts, of course they would rush into there to confront the targets and possibly subdue. They had locked onto this outside signature, unless there were already too many in their peripheral vision. Regardless they were to search about the area outside the burning building or ‘through’ if there were an opening. They sniffed around, gnawing at whatever they considered a possible way to the individuals. It was unclear, but surly these were an effective method to flush almost any prey there was. They growled and stirred, tongues whipping about caustic saliva that had not stringed to the floor. Others such as Galvery and his party were to be somewhat ignored by the Our Nostrum unit. The canine abominations were aware yet did not act, briefly stopping at attention with their movements. Harmless waves rippled through matter, colliding about with other resonances with both object and person. Distant, hollow eyes glanced about the area with their periodically raising heads, behavior almost mechanical and off.

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Anubria Orc Vanguard x1
Anubria Human Vanguard x2
Claire-Vanguard x6
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Sun Jun 21, 2015 2:23 pm

The whole point of moving en-mass was to make a statement. This was hobbes territory, and anyone who wanted to be difficult would be made an example of. The festivities had ended however, and it was just Patrekk and Hren who were making their way back to their leader. That was when they were interrupted by the Our-Nostrum force, the tank, and the woman who dared to hold them up. Hrens tall powerful frame turned to face her, his right hand still holding onto the long cudgel he had been using in the previous fight. He was slightly burned and bloody but they were all relatively minor injuries to the monster. Patrekk himself was more injured but was recovering more quickly.

"Mmm? And what Business does 'Our Nostrum' have with us?" This has been Hobbes territory for over a decade, since we took it from the Kumasa..." His right eye glowed violet, as Patrekk's own became rimmed with orange and red. Hren casually twisted the cudgel in his hand before bringing it down to lightly bash against the ground cracking the cement, as a light violet sheen coated his cudgel, while Patrekk showed his pointed teeth and hunched a bit lower.

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Andion Isurand on Sun Jun 21, 2015 8:08 pm

Baetonin felt the reverberations of the explosion and subsequent collapse of one market-city block to the south, followed by the sight of of particulates sent rising into the sky above above it. He had just recently arrived to this city for the purpose of exploration and to check up on the wares available in its market to see if any of them would be of use back in the nearest subterranean enclaves of his people. He was curious to gauge what kind of response the devastation might bring in from the surrounding district and began walking towards the affected area, hoping to gain more insight into where this place stood with regards to the development of its magic, technology and overall infrastructural prowess.

Baetonin soon overheard the distant amplified voice of the woman speaking to the public in the zone of destruction, and singling out two individuals by the name of Mister Hren and Mister Patrekk for interrogation.

It wasn't long until Baetonin approached the northern edge of the district's collapsed section, that left portions of the sewers exposed below piles of brick, concrete, metal sheets, boards, shingles and people's belongings, punctuated by leaking pipes and a few fresh corpses. Many people had descended upon the wreckage to help unearth survivors or too loot anything of value left out in the open. He then scrambled out over the broken cityscape to try and help out, not yet willing to openly display his arcane talents to the strangers around him.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Nethuama on Sun Jun 21, 2015 9:51 pm

[Falling into Line.] Those who sought to plunder Janus’s now smoldering establishment suddenly became hesitant, having sighted the pack of canine aberrations. Whispers to themselves fluttered amid the fading mess, attempting only to be sneaky and not alarm the hounds. Many survivors of Ill Fortune’s tests resided in this city, enduring withdraws to the meta-substance. A few recognized these beasts, finding the endeavor rather costly if not lethal. After all, most of the products were damaged save for a few armaments outside the common category. One managed to grab a piece of rare scrap that might be exchanged for silver, yet he would lose his balance and fall to his posterior as a patrolling abomination came into proximity. Frozen, he stared into the blank orbs of the hound that appeared to have overlooked his presence. The remaining dogs surrounded the Hobbes a few yards away in a half-circle, still as ice with chests slightly puffed. They growled in anticipation, those aforementioned devices kept them somewhat docile. Saliva sizzled upon the asphalt with each drip, their unnaturally lengthy tongues slithering about betwixt the countless rows of teeth. They indeed had noticed Baetonin but that character was but one in the desperate crowd; there was little mind paid to him unless he made a grandiose intervention.

Alessa, the woman whose voice everyone now caught, quirked a thin brow at the Hobbe’s response, answering with a partial smirk along those full lips to compliment, “Well, that’s your cock up, Hobbe.” She released the button, now smiling fully before she continued, “You see, it was never you’l family’s to begin with.” Alessa’s forearm pivoted back to brush her bangs before she decided to insert, “So no need to lose your plot, boys.” She knew they would resist, but it was almost polite to provide a way out. Just after her fairly taunting remark, the mechanisms to the rear doors began to squeal as the large panel began to slowly lie itself down to create a minor decline. From the depths of the vehicle, three immense entities would come marching out. Anubria Vanguard... Two looked similar while the one in the center was smaller and more compact compared. They had dense physiques (7’2” and 6’8”) decorated by natural and man-made plating; mostly in thick, dull strips along the sides, thighs, shins, arms, shoulders, and back. The exoskeleton covered their entire head and down the spine, being a lighter tan hue as opposed to the rhinoesque dermis covering the rest. They were very much a spitting image of Ashcroft’s hound that many became acquainted to.

Anyways, they wore a harness made of a special Kevlar that holstered various items and a segmented plate belt with a loincloth of the same fashion. The two larger men at the side would wield proportional tower shields that seemed to be pieced together with large squares and rectangles. Parallel to where one would grip the shield, there was an odd, overlapping concentric circles that spun approximately one rotation a minute. In their massive other hands they bared straight blades (4’7”) whose edges were the moving teeth of a chain saw.

The condensed engines roared and screamed once engaged, smoke streaming from the exhaust ports. However, the one in the center had a rather large handgun instead, a sidearm that the Hobbe individuals might even identify. Following right behind the wall of enormous mutants were six humanoids sporting the very same suit that Alessa had been seen wearing (will show pics if asked). Their movements generated those faint effects amidst the un-rhythmic tune of the power source. Layered radiation cascaded from their forms in uncoordinated patterns, resulting in a small field of unknown properties. They mostly carried rifles and whatever Ashcroft would have had on his person (grenades, traps, knives or machetes, etc but with only two Adivuo Vadettes for the entire squad). Two others were armed with smaller versions of the Claire-Tech projectiles, complimented by large dual bayonets. One guard for every three had a primitive but effective meta-sensor interface that read what was relayed from the vehicle and hounds. Anyways, the squad split up with the pair of biological titans leading three exo-men around both sides of the heavy transport, which evidently it was. The shorter one stayed at his post (with other exo-men) lest one of the denizens decided to approach said vehicle. Both groups stopped at the first wheel that surpassed the shock creatures by only a few inches, shields presented and at the ready. Their primal but hissing snarls could be heard, as if they were restraining the cry that Mors was most known for. Once they were in position, if the Hobbes did not act, she would speak, “Don’t be rude now, we are being very understanding; lay down your arms.” Something to further ease the situation or so she thought.      

[Anubria Orc Vanguard x2, Anubria Human Vanguard x1, Claire-Vanguard x6]
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Mon Jun 22, 2015 12:29 am

Plundering it had not exactly been what they had in mind, the shop was not a smoldering pile of rubble just yet, and of course somethings would survive but at the time being they had no interest in whatever it had contained, or at the very least felt it was more worth destroying it to make a statement, to send a message. It seemed Our-Nostrum had not gotten this message. Hrens grip tightened on his cudgel. "Vultures..." As the woman blatantly said she was taking over a shop in his territory he looked at Patrekk and then saw the troops pull in. He knew they could not stand to see such a thing happen right after going after a couple of newbies for not understanding how things worked. He also recognized the C-Tech on the Vanguards, and the airship going overhead. "Trekk... I want you to return to the family..." Hren said. "Tell them Our-Nostrum is making moves now... I'll handle this..." He said it quietly without even looking at his subordinate, so there chances of hearing this amidst the commotion was minimal.

Patrekk looked angered, the ambiguously gendered youth gave Hren an affronted look. "Just do it. It's on my order..." The shorter one hissed and licked his lips looking at the Our-Nostrum troops. "Next time then..." He then took off, bounding with blurring speed, that almost saw him vanish from between A and point B at odd intervals, making his way atop buildings. Hren then turned to look at the Troops before him and hunched over. "So then... Lets begin..." his arms crossed, the male began a transformation, muscles bulged, as a great magenta violet green yellow and red light emanated from a ring on his finger incidentally potentially causing a blinding affect for all who were within the radius. When the light cleared Hren stood taller and broader than the largest Vanguard at 8 feet and 650 pounds. His body had taken on a darker almost sandpaper like appearance and appeared a dark dull grey. His eyes were completely red and peered beneath deep-set ridged brows. He was hairless, and his shirt and coat were now off revealing 3 pectorals and a 12 pack of abs, along with a highly thick neck.

Violet energy wafted into his cudgel changing its molecular structure, adding to it, and causing the bar like bludgeon to lengthen and broaden to a proportionate size with its wielder. 2 Rows of shark like teeth, flanked by blood red gums would be the mouth, while a pug like nose was on his face. He twirled the Baton with a martial artists flare and skill and brought it into his other hand while it was towards the ground, making a golf-swing at a large fragment of concrete.

The negative energy of the cudgel was channeled into the debris accelerating it and adding to its molecular instability. It fragmented upon contact into 3 chunks designed to strike into the incoming vanguard though not with a terrible amount of accuracy, though perhaps the numbers and area of effect might make up for this, upon contact with the first surface they touched the rocks would explode with the force of Frag-Grenades within an 8 foot radius, while Hren moved forward with his attack, his golf-swing carrying the bar up at his left side and continuing to spiral it between his hands as that violet sheen coated the weapon and caused it to crackle with energy while the Monster charged.

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Andion Isurand on Mon Jun 22, 2015 2:05 am

At the north end of the collapse, amidst its debris, Baetonin was in the process of helping a few injured civilians climb their way out, when he heard a deep cracking sound and a smattering of booms coming from the southwest. He looked over to see people skirting the edge of the destruction to get away from the streets that led in that general direction. However, he couldn't see what was happening there, beyond the intact buildings that still stood just outside the broken plot of the city.

After climbing out of the rubble, he traveled west until he could find a narrow space between two buildings, with enough obstructions and trash to hide himself from any pedestrians on the street. Once he was mostly out of the way and fairly sure he wasn't being watched, he took a few seconds to assume the form of a typical crow, with his possessions melding into the new form as well, by means of an ongoing transmutation spell already in effect upon his person. He then flew up out of the far end of the alley, and headed south towards the sounds of battle, whilst keeping low to nearby buildings and rooftops to mask his approach.
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by MrMystic on Tue Jun 23, 2015 12:23 am

A vessel was flying through the the market, it was approximately 1/2 mile long, and dark blue in color with a ring, that  glowed light blue, wrapped around the midsection of the ship. It flew towards the ports. When it finally docked it just sat there nothing or no one emerged.


Last edited by MrMystic on Tue Jun 23, 2015 2:01 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Nethuama on Tue Jun 23, 2015 2:21 am

[Falling into Line.] The woman thought of herself as generous by granting the man ample time to speak. However, it was apparent Hren’s words were spent on his fiendish counterpart. Alessa knew not what was said but observed the movements of what one would call lips, chuckling lightly with a nod of the head. She rose from the hulking vehicle just as Hren had finished his first utterance to Patrekk. The General was intrigued, still clutching that blocky microphone near her face yet did not even attempt to speak. The woman had fought the futility of the endeavor, focusing to catch some kind of fragment to the man’s sentence. Their conversation was hardly discernible, even for Alessa’s superb hearing (by human standards). Unfortunately the crackling of the hungering flames nearby cloaked their words like static. The whine and crashes of the shop’s gradual collapse further complicate catching that slightest hint of sentence fragments.

This was no tragedy to Alessa as the transport’s forward cannons turned to Hren’s position just after his second message given to Patrekk. Although they did not possess as many armaments as the other Our Nostrum vehicles, its assortment of ballistic goodness was nothing to scoff at. The void of the four great barrels backed by that infamous Claire-Tech stared down Hren, but still the bellicose individual stood. It was even likely he had not notice the recent tingling of energy emanating from said cannons. That moment Hobbe’s effeminate counterpart got quarter way into his retreat, Alessa’s piercing emerald gaze smiled to the primal man. Her lips pursed together, leaning but a centimeter for a gentle kiss to the air in Hren’s general direction, heralding a howling salvos from forty five millimeter guns. Eeeah! The ends of the barrels were lit as arcs of concentrated radiation pummeled his proximity. Primal Fuses illuminated up the guns’ wells, the men manning them finding it rather obstructing at these levels.

This bombardment went on for a few seconds, but it seemed like hours with such disorder. Hiem’s children grew on this influx, standing patiently at the rim of the deleterious splash. Their wounds grew, plasmic flickers becoming more frequent. Suddenly the explosions stopped and the woman’s once flailing locks fell back to the sides of her face, but she did not relent. Judging on whether Patrekk stayed to witness his friend getting pounded on, there was a whistle from across the split-second pause in the turmoil. Hearing Alessa’s high-pitched order, they darted immediately toward the deft Patrekk through the expanding cloud of dirt and debris. They were quite fast, even compared to Patrekk as he was to discover. They did not expect to just catch him outright; there was that chance of a slip up. Perhaps a way onto the roof could change this game of chase. Derelicts and citizens alike hugged the walls and gasped, avoiding the persistent pack of canines. Their method of communicated had drawn further attention, but who was going to report? Baetonin was smart to get in the way of these beasts, being rather unpredictable if they are broken from formation. Those aforementioned devices performed better with numbers, maintaining a system of channels without major fault.

Thud, thud, thud, thud… Promptly after the creatures’ departure, the two squads moved forward to meet before the transport’s front with shields presented. Throughout the duration, a buzzing came ear originating from said shields but this small detail was yet to reveal its function. The outermost Claire-Vanguard peeked around the barricades with rifles slightly lowered. Those in the inner kept their weapons at the hips, fingers stretched over the guards. The men trailing behind kept their vision on the sensors held in front of their chests. What they had read was inconclusive, knowing only that Hren was stationary and still at high meta-levels. They did, however, come to a halt having somehow received orders, but the Anubria mutants were becoming restless. Clear, viscous saliva stringed from between the row of disproportional incisors with each airy hiss. Fluctuating growls of the chainsaw swords had joined their frightening vocalizations. Kssshh… A sound bounced about the squad, readying to open fire upon the likely charging beast man with slightly lowered barrels. Alessa was growing impatient, prepared to leave this vehicle and enter this potential fray herself but with a special approach.

Those in the sewers were to hear the quakes from the surface, puddles along the sewer’s pungent river rippling or any still water. Another cave in of the passages was to soon occur or it already had with such abuse to the old street. Regardless, that was one other echo that blasted through the numerous smelly pathways. Whether they had emerged on the radar or not, they were of no concern. The many mutants and addicts that chose this network to thrive would be rudely awakened, beckoned from their almost maze-like homes. Screams and grunts traveled down the wide waterways, bouncing about the stone walls supporting the street. It did not help that the individuals that found themselves in this inevitable swarm’s path had been fighting and further guiding them to the source of their annoyance. This was also a potential meal, a delicacy of flesh that paled the vermin and pests that dwelled in the nooks and crannies.


[Anubria Orc Vanguard x2, Anubria Human Vanguard x1, Claire-Vanguard x6]

Gtfo with the ship, Bael.


Last edited by Nethuama on Tue Jun 23, 2015 2:31 am; edited 3 times in total (Reason for editing : Gtfo with the ship.)
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by Conservator on Tue Jun 23, 2015 2:42 am

(The Ship will if nothing else considered to be coming in later than this battle, so its sheer scale does not disrupt the scene. It is also worth mentioning Market would be unable to accommodate a ship of that size in its port and landing the cruiser would take out at least a 1/3rd of the city. Respectfully requesting Mr.Mystic scales his ship down or uses a significantly smaller class of ship such as a shuttle, carrier, or small barge of at least 1/2 a mile in size or less.)
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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

Post by NPC-Roster on Tue Jun 23, 2015 3:46 pm

Hren should have known he did not have the luxury of trying to prepare, even so the blinding flash of the dispelled glamour-charm on his ring might have lowered chances of hitting, but the quantity of bullets, and sheer firepower behind them would most likely ensure that Hren took some damage. The arcing display adding to the bright flash of the removed spell. When the light and dust settled Hren was standing as he would have been otherwise,  though in a guarding stance. His abdomen, lower pectorals and forearms were glowing green and shifting to purple as they smoked from the impacts of the arcs. He had taken damage. (7/10's health remaining.) This also brought the other Our Nostrum forces time to mount their defense.

As the Vanguard bared their shields at him, he left his guarding stance and having absorbed some of the radiation, while dispersing a bit of the kinetic impact, he was already poised to mount an offense. Having been interrupted in his previous attempt he instead brought his stick hard into the ground, that purple sheen extending through the earth and dividing into lines that would traverse the ground towards the opposition in about a second. those 3 lines seeking to carry the destructive intent through the ground and charging it beneath the vanguards feet and slightly behind them to cause 3 frag-bomb equivalent attacks that could compromise the already precarious durability of the ground a bit more. The attack also had potential to strike beneath the transport.

As Patrekk moved, his pursuers would find out speed was only half of his primary asset. Sensing their approach as he broke through dust, he smiled with those shark like teeth and turned in the air so he was upside down. Without warning Patrekks jaw opened sending a lashing tongue with verpine speed that stretched out to 12 feet to stickily wrap around the arms and torso of one of the men, whereupon the muscle would then lash to the side seeking to throw the male into one of his comrades in mid-air. He had synergized the timing and positioning of the attack with skill that only a specialist in acrobatics would have. If successful at least two would be sent flying into the window of a nearby building, while the tongue would retract and Patrekk would curl into a ball and rotate in a falling somersault towards the ground landing with bended knees in a compact crouch. His fall brought him just in front of a 2 story building, so even if his other pursuers maintained the high-ground, Patrekk would be too close to the front of the building, for them to get a clear shot till they cleared the building itself. (Time till Patrekk reaches Hobbes Manor, 5 posts.)

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Re: The Little Shop of Weapons

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