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| The Omen from the North; Intro to a new foe | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 3 2008, 04:22 PM (163 Views) | |
| Stonehammer | Sep 3 2008, 04:22 PM Post #1 |
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(Tell me if its the wrong place) (Part one of three) High above the icy wastes of the northern lands the two ravens fly, seeking the sunlight. Borne aloft by winds spawned in the Arctic whipping though the ice boulder fields of ancient pack and turning the loose crystals into dancing zephyrs in the sunlight. Turning the bleak wasteland into a spectacle to behold for those who dare adventure far enough to appreciate it. Circling high above the ravens beginning their journey southward with the wind. The sound of the wind whispers to itself of the icy past, trying to spread wisdom to those in the present, though no one is there to hear its omens from the north. Once a haunting, howling wail of despair, it has lost its powerful voice along the journey. So now it carries another omen to mankind, the ravens. As the small evergreens of the tundra begin to quiver with the chilled message that the wind bears, it is too late. For far off in the distance, a new sound that no one can hear, is approaching. The sound of thunder. A thunder brought on not by scorching lightning crackling across the stormy skies, but by the fires of man. The wind races now, and the trees sway violently, trying to avoid the approaching inferno by remaining in the winds chilled cradle. The southern tundra becomes alive with the chill howling of the wind and the roaring of fire, at war. High in the blue skies filled with the wind whipped crystals forming clouds like horsetails dancing through the streams of air. But in mere seconds the wind is drowned out by the roar, which now imposes its will upon the land. The two ravens, recognizing the superior of the two, forego their message, and land on the thunderous being's metallic shoulders as it blazes though the tundra. Its white, blue, and chrome armor shine brightly in the sunlight, reflecting the ground in a blur as it races past. Clouds of steam and white smoke trailing from the rockets of the mechanical being try and combat the wind, wounded and slowed by the battle, but ultimately are twisted to its will in a petty show of force no one will ever behold. The fletching of the massive arrows strapped in a quiver to across its back are being shaken loose from a icy, frozen slumber. The bow, a seemingly wooden construct looking out of place on the being's back, is unstrung. It looks as if it has been cared for better than the arrows or anything else on the mech as no signs of damage that the chill would have caused mar its surface. The sword at its side rattles, as the engines roar onward, ever south. But the most obvious of the armaments is the gigantic half moon axe in the left hand of the mech. It's long metal handle adorned with the face of a wolf. Its blade is well sharpened, but shows the signs of use over the years, like it could tell the stories found in the history books. A long history, just now, finally, coming to a head. |
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| Stonehammer | Sep 8 2008, 11:53 PM Post #2 |
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(Part Two of Three) (Forgive me its late and I am dead haha) The roar of cannon fire fills the young pilots ears. Terror fills his eyes as the red view screen shows him all that is going on outside his mobile suit as his squad flies into the battle which is likely nearing an end. The firing, still intense, is becoming one sided. “Sou…n…” the voice breaks over his comm unit, “Damn piece of shit comms. Bloody Canadian made I swear. Odin here, Raider Squadron sound off.” “Sigfried here.” A male’s voice sounds over the comm. “Hremglir at the back.” “Loki here as always.” A man cackles. “Fenris checking in.’ A silence ensues as the boy’s eyes are glued to his screen, full of explosions and falling soldiers. “Thor, you there?” the captain asks quickly. “Probably too busy wetting his virgin pants. “ Loki laughs over the comm. “Shut it, otherwise you’ll be sorry in the morning. Thor sound off now, that’s an order.” The captain says. “Thor here.” The young pilot squeaks. “Some god of thunder,” Sigfried laughs with a whisper. “Huldra here,” a woman’s voice rounds everyone out. “Enemies are marked on your computers, stick with your wingman,” Odin calls out, “see you after, you lot will owe me drinks.” He laughs. “Don’t declare victory yet, I’ll best you.” Huldra says. “Dream on,” Fenris says, “today is my day.” “Not today.” The captain laughs. “Well she did last night,” Loki laughs “Okay, okay cut the chatter.” He orders. The young pilot says a quick prayer as they enter the fray, his counterparts’ guns blazing towards the Russian front. He pulls the trigger as a suit blurs across his screen. “Watch it pilot you almost hit me!” a voice sounds out with a southern American slur. He trembles at the controls as he flies behind Huldra. The other four arc off engaging different enemies. He watches as they fly off and begin battling other mobile suits in the area. He is quickly brought back to his moment as a Russian Zaku arcs towards him. He freezes in terror as he watches it draw closer. “Dammit boy!” she screams as she shoves his frozen gundam out of the cannon’s fire. As she leaps back herself, propelled by her engines, curses as the sound of shattering components fills the air. He looks down in horror at her shattered leg, dripping fluids to the ground below. Yet she takes a shot and connects with the Russian, his suit soon a ball of flame. “Don’t freeze next time.” She says angrily. “But your… trashed.” “Not really.” She says as she turns around and takes off cradling her rifle in her arms as she does. The Russian are growing ever more sparse he can see on his screen. Good maybe this will be over soon. He manages a smile at this as he flies behind Huldra’s damaged suit. The NATO forces are fighting savagely this day, and it seems to be working for them. In school they were taught that field warfare against the Russians was very dangerous. They always threatened to use their super weapon, even on their own forces should necessity show its need. “Ten o’clock.” She shouts. They both turn and loose shots on the two Russian Zaku’s, which are flying over a hill towards them. They both lock their targets and loose shots from their rifles. Twin fireballs in the air, and the boy gives a whoop of joy at his first kill. “Good shot rookie.” “Thanks,” he says with a bit more confidence. The next minutes race by, the two becoming a tandem, working together, almost reading each other’s minds as they dance through the battlefields. He occasionally glances to the nav to see if the rest of the squad is close, but he soon sees that they are all scattered across the field. By the time they are done the Russians have all but cleared the field. He is gasping, out of breath. And Huldra is laughing for the moment. “They’re in full retreat,” Odin calls out, “three squads have been ordered to pursue, and guess what we’re doing.” Hremglir gives a whoop of enthusiasm at this news. “Form up and move out,” he orders as they group back up. The squad roars on keeping low to the ground, arrayed in a manner to be ready to fire together at any time. The sun is setting in a red blaze beyond the horizon. The two other squads are far off from them. Small flocks in the distance the boy sees. Small fireballs in the distance. “What the—“ Hremglir says before all is static. “Cover!” Odin shouts. The five remaining mechs dive towards the ground, engines roaring in unison. “Shit, what was that?” “No idea soldier, probably a lucky shot.” Odin replies. “I don’t think so sir,” the boy says. “What are you talking about soldier?” “The two other groups,” he stumbles, “I looked and they were burning.” “Shit…” he says, and a moment of silence passes. “They regrouped, that’s all I can think of, and we dove in head first.” The ground beneath them begins to shake beneath their mech’s boots. “What the…” Loki says. The thundering of rockets closing on their location sounds through the Gundanium armor. In mere seconds they all stop, in all their minds they know that the Russians are here. “Make your terms.” Odin says somberly, “I will draw fire, your four make your escape.” “Sir—“ Huldra says. “That’s an order,” he cuts her off, drawing his laser sword and adjusting his rifle. “Go now!” “Yessir.” Loki says. The four mechs keep low to the ground as the captain launches into the air. He does so so quickly that the initial Russian shots are far too low. The boy hears two quick successive explosions and a laugh over the comm, “now time to die!” the captain shouts as he drops his empty rifle and charges the ten remaining Russian mechs. Before he can raise his sword, the mech is littered with tens of holes, filled with fading energy streams. The static is more deafening to the pilots than the explosion. “Captain, No!” Fenris screams, and turns his mech, firing at the Russians in a blind rage. “Fen don’t!” Huldra and Loki shout in unison. Huldra tried to turn around herself as Fenris’ mech is engulfed in flames. But Thor catches her arm and pulls her back with him, “Another day.” He says, his voice chill, sending shivers down her spine. Down one rocket she cannot keep up she he keeps his grip on her arm and pulls her along. Loki has roared far ahead of the two as the pursuing Russians close on the two behind. By the time stars are appearing in the sky as night has began. Laser fire lights up the night like lightning in a storm. “Look!” Loki exclaims, “Friendlies, we’re there!” Thor hears something like a voice over the comm, but all is static now. Not good. But before he can voice a warning a beam arcs towards Loki’s mech from the NATO side. It passed through the central cockpit and is soon engulfed in flames. “No!” Huldra cries, “we’re friendlies!” By now they are dodging fire from both sides as they are caught in the middle of the Russian counterassault, and the confused NATO forces. Thor bolts down to the remains of Loki’s mech and picks up his throwing axe. “Stay here.” He tells Huldra. And shoots into the sky towards the Russians. All goes blank in his head as he gives over to rage against the men who killed his comrades. He hardly knew most of them, but they were still his brothers in arms. And now it is time for them to die. His mech dances through the laser light and reaches the Russians. His axe is a blur as it tears through the head of one of the mechs, and he turns leveling his rifle at a closer one blasting clear through the Zaku. With a cry he throws the axe with all his might, and a Russian falls, exploding as it drags on the ground. “Watch out!” Huldra cries, “the NATO guys are moving in!” He draws his sword and chops through one more stunned Russian, his rage blinding him to all else. He turns to the NATO mechs and fires off two shots, connecting with at least one of the NATO mechs. “No! Kid, don’t!” she cried over the comm. But he is numb to all else at this point, dancing through friends and enemies alike, his gundam like a berserker of old. Not caring whether he lives or dies only that he destroys as much as he can. “Behin—“ she cries, but soon static engulfs his comm unit. He looks down in horror as one of the NATO mechs slashes her mech in two, slowly sliding down to the ground in molten metal. “Noo!” he cries, his eyes tear-filled as he continues on. His mech jerks as one of the Russians catches his arm, and its wingman blasts it off. As he turns to fire his rifle he is thrown forward as his right leg is sheared off by a mech he never found out which side it was on. He fires a shot through its head, and gives a cry of pain as a beam fires through his mech’s chest. Triggering his ejection seat, his body launched at the ground, landing broken as the parachute never deployed. As he loses consciousness he sees the two forces fighting one another, as his mech is engulfed in flames. “I swear….” Is all he gets out before he is knocked out from the pain both physical and in his cold heart. |
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3:36 AM Jul 11