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Ezekiel
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Zeus23-211
Penny Member
STATUS: Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad. 17 days ago
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17 days ago
Current
Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad.
3
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25 days ago
She wanted to read, she wanted to write, but the main thing she wanted was something to fight
4
likes
1 yr ago
Make it clear that you don't need him to be reading Dante tomorrow. Also suggest it would be fun if you had a private language that you could use to mock English speakers in secret.
5
likes
2 yrs ago
Luckily history suggests an infinite ability for people to be shit heads ;)
1
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3 yrs ago
Achmed the Snake
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Bio
Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.
Most Recent Posts
-211
I should probably add that there is no clue (unless someone has a great idea for some kind of internet research) and that the prompt is: Finish up at the office and head to the airport.
The two adventurers stumbled down the low grassy hills towards the settlement, nestled on the dividing line between lush emerald jungle and cerulean blue sea, the steep pitched roofs and smoking chimnies of the port seemed at once alien and out of place and the only reminder of something recognizable as civilization. Long moles reached out into the ocean constructed laboriously of stone which had been hacked from the nearby hills over the years, slowly replacing what must have initially been wooden versions created from the greenish jungle timber. A palisade wall with a stone foundation ringed the place with towers to twice or three times the height of the parapet at regular intervals. Beyond the walls were fields of crops that stretched from the town to where the base of the hills made the terrain too rocky, but beyond the occasional tool shed there were no permanent structures beyond the wall. Emmaline had to imagine this was because the settlers knew they weren't safe if they ventured out beyond their fortifications. Having just left the company of Lizardmen via a Skaven tunnel Emmaline could appreciate the feeling.
The gates of the port stood open although watchful men in the towers and on the walls kept an eye on them as they approached. The pair made quite a sight, scratched and filthy with dirt and blood and dressed in the tattered remains of sailors clothing. Never the less no comment was made as they entered the dirt streets beyond the walls. As expected from the number of ships in harbor the streets were crowded with sailors and traders from a dozen different nations. Bluff Imperials cried the virtues of barrels of ale from Middenheim, Tilean silversmiths hawked buttons of polished steel, Estalian bravos swaggered and drank on the verendahs of wine shops. There were even a few hooked nose Araybians peddling brasswares and candied dates. Sailors from every nation rolled drunkenly from taverns to brothels, good naturedly for the most part, though occasional drunken altercations were taking place. These impromptu displays of fisticuffs tended to attract gamblers more interested in betting on the outcome than joining in however.
"Hey blondie, I got a gold florin for you if you are looking for a good time!" a slightly more prosperous looking sailor, perhaps a ships officer, called, staggering drunkenly towards Emmaline. Amal smoothly interposed himself and shoved the fellow away, though not before Emmaline caught a wiff of the sour wine on his breath. The Aryabian shoved the fellow away sending him staggering into one of the brothels none the worse for wear.
"I suppose we will need to sell one of our prizes for money," Emmaline mused looking around for a goldsmith or pawn shop that might do. Amal laughed and produced a leather purse he had lifted from the sailor.
"Whatever for?" he asked before taking a gold florin from the pouch and handing it to Emmaline.
The gates of the port stood open although watchful men in the towers and on the walls kept an eye on them as they approached. The pair made quite a sight, scratched and filthy with dirt and blood and dressed in the tattered remains of sailors clothing. Never the less no comment was made as they entered the dirt streets beyond the walls. As expected from the number of ships in harbor the streets were crowded with sailors and traders from a dozen different nations. Bluff Imperials cried the virtues of barrels of ale from Middenheim, Tilean silversmiths hawked buttons of polished steel, Estalian bravos swaggered and drank on the verendahs of wine shops. There were even a few hooked nose Araybians peddling brasswares and candied dates. Sailors from every nation rolled drunkenly from taverns to brothels, good naturedly for the most part, though occasional drunken altercations were taking place. These impromptu displays of fisticuffs tended to attract gamblers more interested in betting on the outcome than joining in however.
"Hey blondie, I got a gold florin for you if you are looking for a good time!" a slightly more prosperous looking sailor, perhaps a ships officer, called, staggering drunkenly towards Emmaline. Amal smoothly interposed himself and shoved the fellow away, though not before Emmaline caught a wiff of the sour wine on his breath. The Aryabian shoved the fellow away sending him staggering into one of the brothels none the worse for wear.
"I suppose we will need to sell one of our prizes for money," Emmaline mused looking around for a goldsmith or pawn shop that might do. Amal laughed and produced a leather purse he had lifted from the sailor.
"Whatever for?" he asked before taking a gold florin from the pouch and handing it to Emmaline.
Emmaline leaped onto the carpet as it soared free of the fray. Bolts of jagged energy were tearing from the shattered orb, blasting apart rock and stone in showers of flaming debris. Chunks of the cavernous roof above began to fall like great daggers plunging into the city below and flattening buildings, lizardmen and skaven alike. If Sotek had won the battle it certainly didn't seem like any of his worshipers were going to be alive to savor it. Well as the High Priestess of Asapth until told otherwise, Emmaline certainly intended to outlive the combatants below.
"There!" Emmaline yelled pointing at the tunnel through which the Skaven had come. A score or so of the creatures stood hesitantly in the mouth of the tunnel not brave enough to race to the aid of their betters but to scared to flee. Emmaline summoned up another scything bolt of golden light leaving a dozen smoking sets of skaven feet as the carpet raced through the opening and into the tunnel beyond. The interior of the tunnel was twisted by the bite of the boring machine. The tunnel narrowed rapidly as the infernal engine had obviously had no way to dispose of the spoil but had ground it down so that it settled into a smaller space. Behind them came a collosal boom and flash of light that almost seemed to make the walls of solid rock transparent. A great cloud of dust raced down the tunnel behind them like the wake of a bursting dam but with a final burst of speed the carpet outdistanced it before slowing to a coast and then settling to the tunnel floor.
Emmaline looked back the way they had come, her expression as stricken as though she had just been told that Midsummer Eve had been canceled.
"All that gold," she bemoaned wringing her hands together mournfully.
"Don't worry so much," Amal managed sounding a little glum himself, "It isn't a total loss." With a flourish he pulled a golden dagger with a large emerald in its hilt from his bag.
"That is hardly the point!" Emmaline objected before producing a pair of gem studded torcs from her own garments.
"There!" Emmaline yelled pointing at the tunnel through which the Skaven had come. A score or so of the creatures stood hesitantly in the mouth of the tunnel not brave enough to race to the aid of their betters but to scared to flee. Emmaline summoned up another scything bolt of golden light leaving a dozen smoking sets of skaven feet as the carpet raced through the opening and into the tunnel beyond. The interior of the tunnel was twisted by the bite of the boring machine. The tunnel narrowed rapidly as the infernal engine had obviously had no way to dispose of the spoil but had ground it down so that it settled into a smaller space. Behind them came a collosal boom and flash of light that almost seemed to make the walls of solid rock transparent. A great cloud of dust raced down the tunnel behind them like the wake of a bursting dam but with a final burst of speed the carpet outdistanced it before slowing to a coast and then settling to the tunnel floor.
Emmaline looked back the way they had come, her expression as stricken as though she had just been told that Midsummer Eve had been canceled.
"All that gold," she bemoaned wringing her hands together mournfully.
"Don't worry so much," Amal managed sounding a little glum himself, "It isn't a total loss." With a flourish he pulled a golden dagger with a large emerald in its hilt from his bag.
"That is hardly the point!" Emmaline objected before producing a pair of gem studded torcs from her own garments.
Emmaline's heart leaped into her throat as Amal tackled the skaven sorcerer. She was reasonably certain that had it not been so fixated on the orb it could have obliterated him without difficulty. The thief and the ratwizard tumbled struck at one another. Even from this distance Emmaline saw a chisel shaped fang fly lose in a spray of blood and saliva as Amal slugged the thing in the jaw with a vicous right hook. It screeched and yowled at such a volume that its plight began to attract attention from its minions even over the roar of battle.
A sudden pain flared through Emmaline as her wrists were wrenched backwards and a blade, razor sharp for all its jagged ugliness was pressed against her throat. Paws gripped her wrists behning her back, the contact oily and repulsive. She could smell the musk of the rat behind her and closed her eyes.
"You tell them to surrender man thing yes-yes!" the rat chittered. Emmaline opened her mouth and began to speak. Instead of a demand to surrender however she wove a spell. By the time the rat realized what was going on his paws and forearms were encased in gold and a few seconds after that his entire body shone in golden effigy. Unfortunately the pose of this new piece of statuary kept Emmaline locked and immobile, its golden hands surrounding her wrists and holding its golden knife to her throat.
"Uhhh... didn't really think this through..." she whimpered.
A sudden pain flared through Emmaline as her wrists were wrenched backwards and a blade, razor sharp for all its jagged ugliness was pressed against her throat. Paws gripped her wrists behning her back, the contact oily and repulsive. She could smell the musk of the rat behind her and closed her eyes.
"You tell them to surrender man thing yes-yes!" the rat chittered. Emmaline opened her mouth and began to speak. Instead of a demand to surrender however she wove a spell. By the time the rat realized what was going on his paws and forearms were encased in gold and a few seconds after that his entire body shone in golden effigy. Unfortunately the pose of this new piece of statuary kept Emmaline locked and immobile, its golden hands surrounding her wrists and holding its golden knife to her throat.
"Uhhh... didn't really think this through..." she whimpered.
-210
Mave thought very quickly considering her options. It was clear that agents of the Shadow were already in Illian and possibly searching for her or for Ali but if they were looking for them here then they hadn't yet found what she was looking for. Their only hope of safety lay in moving as quickly as possible and beating the enemy to their goal. She affected a snicker that the stranger seemed to take some offense too. The tough folded his arms at the laughter.
"What's so funny girl?" he demanded, his tensing body language pleasing the two girls who stood by his side.
"I've told you what I am called, perhaps you should return the favor?" she suggested. The man bristled but nodded his head.
"I am known as Darius Klien, perhaps you have heard of me?" he asked preening slightly. Mave exchanged a glance with Ali and shrugged.
"Afraid not," she admitted concealing a smile at the mans discomfort.
"I was a Captain in the Murandian Royal Guard before I took my oath!" he boasted. Mave had her doubts about that, the Kingdom of Murandy was many things but if it had an army more developed that cattle raiders with a few tattered banners she hadn't heard about it during her history classes at the Tower. None the less Mave let out a slight gasp as though most impressed.
"Then perhaps you are the very man we need," she said conspiratorially. Darius leaned forward his female companions forgotten his eyes alight with an enthusiasm for adventure and glory.
"If you have two or three men you can trust, I have heard a strange tale, told me by an Aes Sedai, strange enough for the Hunt and no mistake!"
"What's so funny girl?" he demanded, his tensing body language pleasing the two girls who stood by his side.
"I've told you what I am called, perhaps you should return the favor?" she suggested. The man bristled but nodded his head.
"I am known as Darius Klien, perhaps you have heard of me?" he asked preening slightly. Mave exchanged a glance with Ali and shrugged.
"Afraid not," she admitted concealing a smile at the mans discomfort.
"I was a Captain in the Murandian Royal Guard before I took my oath!" he boasted. Mave had her doubts about that, the Kingdom of Murandy was many things but if it had an army more developed that cattle raiders with a few tattered banners she hadn't heard about it during her history classes at the Tower. None the less Mave let out a slight gasp as though most impressed.
"Then perhaps you are the very man we need," she said conspiratorially. Darius leaned forward his female companions forgotten his eyes alight with an enthusiasm for adventure and glory.
"If you have two or three men you can trust, I have heard a strange tale, told me by an Aes Sedai, strange enough for the Hunt and no mistake!"
-210
Emmaline goggled in shock as Amal leaped into the skaven, she froze in indecision, caught between a desire to follow and another more reasonable desire to run screaming for whatever hidey hole she could find. Well stop screaming before hiding she supposed. Instead her eyes were drawn to the hole the hellish Skaven engine had bored into the sacred city. More of the filthy rats were already pouring out of it, including one nearly the size of the kroxigor, its muscles and sinew like the anchor cables of a vast warship.
Not certain what else to do Emmaline began to chant a spell. Almost immediately she realised her mistake Charmon howled around her at hurricane force, drawn by the vast deposits of gold around her. A beam of golden light the thickness of a wine barrel lanced from her hands, streaking instantly across the city and ripping a furrow through the ground and up over the rate ogre. Its surviving arms and legs dropped to either side as its torso and head were incinerated, half the reinforcements suffered the same fate before a rat with a strange multibarrled musket took aim at her. She dove aside a moment before a dozen glowing green projectiles scythed through the space she had just been in, decapitating a skink archer and blowing divots the size of dinner plate into the golden steps of the pyramid. The beam from her hands scythed about wildly managing to avoid killing any lizardmen by sheer luck.
"No no no!" Emmaline yelped as it ripped over the ceiling dropping a stalagtite that must have weighed several tons down onto the Skaven's already destroyed warmachine. Green flame belched outwards in a sooty black green explosion which melted the flesh from some of the nearby ratmen. Suddenly she saw something rise out of the golden well in the center of the city. It spun with light and dark like a thunderstorm in a bottle, a sphere about the size of a human head. One of the skaven, all dressed in black whom she hadn't noticed before broke and ran for the strange sphere, paws outstretched.
Not certain what else to do Emmaline began to chant a spell. Almost immediately she realised her mistake Charmon howled around her at hurricane force, drawn by the vast deposits of gold around her. A beam of golden light the thickness of a wine barrel lanced from her hands, streaking instantly across the city and ripping a furrow through the ground and up over the rate ogre. Its surviving arms and legs dropped to either side as its torso and head were incinerated, half the reinforcements suffered the same fate before a rat with a strange multibarrled musket took aim at her. She dove aside a moment before a dozen glowing green projectiles scythed through the space she had just been in, decapitating a skink archer and blowing divots the size of dinner plate into the golden steps of the pyramid. The beam from her hands scythed about wildly managing to avoid killing any lizardmen by sheer luck.
"No no no!" Emmaline yelped as it ripped over the ceiling dropping a stalagtite that must have weighed several tons down onto the Skaven's already destroyed warmachine. Green flame belched outwards in a sooty black green explosion which melted the flesh from some of the nearby ratmen. Suddenly she saw something rise out of the golden well in the center of the city. It spun with light and dark like a thunderstorm in a bottle, a sphere about the size of a human head. One of the skaven, all dressed in black whom she hadn't noticed before broke and ran for the strange sphere, paws outstretched.
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