vietmyke

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

ECHO DOMAIN - PLATFORM #2884

Etheric threats were well and far out of Echo's wheelhouse, the platform could not properly interact with the things that effected the minds of its bipedal companions and thus, was effectively useless as far as handling them went. Physical threats on the other hand, that was something Echo could handle. Its anti-grav engines flared to life as it slid backward out of the way of the hulking brute, not quite as hulking as Echo itself, but still dangerous. Echo's defensive maneuvers focused on creating distance from the hulk, to minimize damage and so as to not block the firing lines of the other Envenomed team members.

"Confirmed. Concentrating Fire." The Endoform echoed Salvator's command as it leveled its heavy weapon at the hulk. The weapon barked in rapid succession, as Echo laid down a prolonged burst against the creature, shell casings raining at the endoform's feet.

The Microforms opened up with their beam lasers, aiming to tear into the hulk from various directions while still maintaining close proximity to their respective charges- ready to leap into the path of oncoming attacks to body block for their designated companions if necessary.

Vradia: Tales of the Chosen Few

Cormag Ruunsten

---

"Smart one, ain'tcha?" Cormag chortled as he watched the owl land on the last remaining tent. It was less a tent and more a canopy at this point, a tanned, off-white stretch of canvas with Imperial army insignia etched onto a side. It was wider than it was tall, and barely tall enough for Cormag to stand inside of, but it would offer shelter from the elements. It was dark out- and Cormag had the sense that give the state of the area around the town, attempting to enter Somerset in the middle of the night was practically asking for certain death. So he'd make camp here, and wait until the morning to approach the town, when there weren't shadows around every corner to potentially pounce at an unwitting ogre.

"Don't suppose you'd be a friend and give me a hoot if you see anyone around, would ye?" Cormag asked the mysterious owl, "I'd shore appreciate it."

The Agni'lighten Owl hooted in reply.

Cormag peered out of the tent, picking up his fusilaxe and holding it at the ready as he began scanning the surroundings- but didn't see much as it was dark. He looked back up at the owl. "Was that' a 'Okay' hoot, or a 'I saw someone around' hoot?" Cormag questioned the bird, but the hoot he received in reply did little to dispel his confusion.

"Bah, I'm sure it'll be fine. Ferrus, keep a watch out." Cormag commanded the steel defender that had been resting atop the Ox's back. Steel defenders typically didn't need sleep, but Ferrus was, to be frank, lazy as hell, and often required direct orders to do anything. Still, the lazy defender sprung off the back of the Ox and stood in front of the tent's opening to keep watch. Lashing Gomie's lead around one of the few remaining tent posts, Cormag began unloading the ox and setting up camp.

About an hour later and the tent area was something resembling a living space again: A large bedroll and much of Cormag's equipment set inside, and a small fire just outside, a cooking pot situated above it letting off the aroma of cooked meat and vegetables. A small anvil and work table sat within the light of the fire. Cormag settled down in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth as the owl hooted once more.

"Is that a something's out there hoot, or are ye pulling my leg again?" Cormag questioned the owl as he picked up his fusilaxe once more.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

Ramuh ended the fight rather handily, and with only a moment given to the fallen guardian Famfrit, the party had set their sights on what they had came here to do. Purifying the Crystal of Water was a rather simple task- given everything they'd been through already. With little more to do than to hold the crystals Cid had given them up to the corrupted Crystal, eventually the Crystal was returned to its original state. It's brilliant shine was a thing of beauty, a welcome reprieve in the darkness. Time wasn't on their side unfortunately, the Crystal was healed, but Valheim was still on their way. All of their work down here would be for nothing if the Valheimr were successful in taking the city.

The side chamber of the cathedral wasn't exactly an inn, but it served as a makeshift staging ground for the Kirins as they prepared for the inevitable assault on the city- to rest and recuperate as best they could. How long did they have before Valheim arrived? Hours supposedly, time that simultaneously dragged on, yet wasn't enough at the same time. It reminded him of an old adage from militaries across the continent: Hurry up and wait. So wait he did. Galahad sat himself down against the wall, pulling off his armor as he attempted to get at least some rest. He winced as he sat down, his injuries weren't severe in the grand scheme of things, but they certainly weren't comfortable either. He glanced around, preparing to find a healer for his injuries- only for one to find him first.

"Neve," Galahad greeted the white mage and former Kirin, "It appears that we always seem to run into each other during grim times." he remarked. They shared a somewhat sad laugh as Neve went about healing his injuries. He winced as the white magic went about its business, testing his mobility as the bruises and scrapes slowly healed and the pain dulled.

"I don't suppose that since the whole mess with Grovemasters has proved that they were compromised this whole time, you'll be joining us?" Galahad joked, but he knew it wouldn't be quite so simple. Now with only one of their three Grovemasters remaining, it seemed that Neve would be needed here in Drana Asnaeu for much of the conceivable future to help stabilize the region.

Galahad contented himself with his friend's quiet company for a while, before her attention was inevitably drawn away by someone else's injuries. Now with a moment of quiet, Galahad couldn't help but run himself through the many names of those that had joined their cause, and those that had left for various reasons. Team Kirin as they were now was considerably changed from the group that had originally left Balmung a proverbial lifetime ago. Of the original party, only he, Izayoi and Eliane remained. Perhaps it was because he was alone with his own thoughts, perhaps it was because they were facing an impending invasion, but Galahad wondered how many of them would survive this ordeal. After all, they still had more Crystals to find and secure- and even then, there was no guarantee that the Blight, or Valheim would stop.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

While their combined effort was enough to disarm the guardian- stripped of its ranged and melee weapon didn't necessarily strip it of its fighting ability- its pool of magic seemed limitless, at least as far as this fight was concerned. Black orbs of energy sprayed across the field wildly, and despite his best efforts to dodge them all, more than one struck- a few glanced off his armor, while one struck true, sending Galahad reeling in agony.

Despite this, the Kirins were still rallying and rising to the occasion- Izayoi split the water around the blasted thing with Miina's assistance, and Esben with the help of his summon was prepared to deliver an incredible blade of electricity, with Rudolf not far behind. They had the guardian was powerful, certainly, but there was something truly frightening about the amount of targeted destruction the Kirins could bring to bear at any single target.

It was tempting to dive right into the mix, but even if his armor helped him resist some lightning, it wasn't exactly rated to dive headfirst into lightning of that caliber. Instead, Galahad reared back and threw his halberd once more. The throw was just as hard as before, but like the strike against the chain, the goal was not to deal incredible damage. Aiming for the heart, with any luck, metal rod would act as a conductor- a literal lightning rod to help in delivering the full force of Esben's lightning directly into the heart of the totema.

Falling Skies

Reprieve

Skogsrå, Gelcastre Woods, 7th Supply Camp_
101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 1840_

---

"Ah, just another Capitalist vunder-veapon," Sabine retorted with a languid stretch, emphasizing the 'v'. "I'm sure I'll get cored by one sooner or later, but until then- or until I get court martialed-" with a vault and a leap onto Leah's shoulders, "You're stuck with me!" Sabine beamed, unabashed and shameless. As Leah had feared, Sabine's ego seemed to only grow bigger with every near death experience.

"To the falls!" She cackled, her french lilt coming in full, kicking at Leah's shoulders as she pointed the way. "By the way, how come the FNG gets an apology for your space aids but not me? Hm? Hm?" Sab demanded as the impromptu group made their way to the falls. The waterfall in question was not a grand thing, about three meters wide at the top, pouring water down into the connecting creek with less of a roar and more of a dull, constant patter. It formed a small pool at its base, and the walls of the cove provided some- if not total privacy. What few staff members were present made way for the pilots.

---

Skogsrå, Gelcastre Woods, 7th Supply Camp_
101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 1900_

---

First of the bathers to return to the barracks tent, but apparently not the first to the tent itself, Sabine huffed as she found an open bunk, toweling her hair with one hand as she tossed a go bag of assorted, randomly put together gear onto her bunk. Sagan was already there, grilling the FNG. She understood the sentiment- the need to make sure the kid was ready to go. After all, the last thing they needed was the FNG breaking in the middle of a fight. The 7th were short staffed as it is, they needed everyone in working order. But there were always things you couldn't force.

"Ah give him a break boss," Sabine waved semi-dismissively, "Today wasn't even that bad, he just needs a few winks of sleep and he'll be right as rain. Probably. 'Sides boss, you look like you could use a few winks yourself."

Sabine grinned like a little gremlin as she fished a pack of cards out of her bag. "Or we could go swindle the support staff out of their ciggies and Rip-Gel."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

"Shit." was all Galahad managed before he was swatted out of the air by a jug the size of a particularly large chocobo. He flew through the air before skipping across the surface of the water like an oversized, oddly aerodynamic rock. He ended up somewhere in the shallows, but hardly had the time to recollect himself as spheres of gravity formed overhead, sinking down to crush him underneath. Galahad threw his hand out, desperately willing his halberd back to his hand, the paired materia crackling bright blue. The heavy halberd whipped through the air, shattering the gravity orb as it flew into Galahad's hand with enough force to pull him off the ground and back to his feet.

Galahad stumbled for a moment, collecting himself as he watched from a distance, Famfrit launching orbs of crushing water at his fellow Kirins. Only for a moment, however, before he was sprinting back towards the action. He made short hops to the left and right to pre-emptively dodge any sphere the guardian might have shot his way, looking for, waiting for some sort of opening.

He didn't have to wait long, as Miina hit the guardian with a slowing spell, reducing its speed and reactions. As Rudolf sprinted up to Famfrit to stop its ranged attacks, Galahad aimed to render its weapon useless in a melee as well. Conjuring lightning into the tip of his halberd's spearpoint, Galahad took a running leap and hucked his halberd with all his might at the chain, right where it connected at jug. While the jug itself was still a heavy dangerous thing to be hit with, snapping the chain would reduce its use and range considerably.

Vradia: Tales of the Chosen Few

Cormag Ruunsten

---

The march to Somerset was uneventful, if perhaps a bit unusual. The weather held up well, barely, and progress was relatively fast. Marching on foot was typically not the ogre way- typically they travelled via their great landships, but Cormag's strides were longer than most humans, and his heavy footfalls left a constant thundering echo across the plains. He hummed a little marching tune as he went, Gomie plodding patiently behind him. The devastation that was currently ravaging the Empire was starting to rear its ugly head even in a place like this: withering crops and barely any sunlight, as if the plague had taken hold of the sky too.

Perhaps in contrast, the owl was a strange, yet not unwelcome companion on his travels. An Agni'lighten Owl, according to the book of birds his father had given him ages ago- though it was strange that it was out and about during the daytime.

"Wot sart of creature are you?" Cormag rumbled, more to himself than to the bird as he held out a hand. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the bird did not deign to land on a stranger's outstretched hand. It did follow him the whole way though, so Cormag made peace with the bird's company. Occasionally calling out to it as he marched. He of course, never received an answer.

He saw Somerset's surroundings before he saw the city itself. The sight didn't bode well. An Imperial garrison had been deployed to the city for a while now, as news of the plague had spread. Cormag expected to find Imperial soldiers milling about, and the plan had been to find the commander and ask them if his father had arrived and for what purpose. It seemed Cormag wouldn't be asking anyone much of anything anymore. The ruined army camp was a grim reminder of what the plague could do.

Cormag and Gomie came to a stop just outside the Imperial Army camp, a safe enough distance away that he would see things coming out of the wreckage if anything untoward remained. He could see the giant gates nailed shut, and he didn't have to see the runes in the dirt to know they were there- army mages taught him that lesson many a time, and as resilient as he was, Cormag didn't fancy accidentally blowing himself up from a missed step.

"S'pose we'll get set up here, won't we, Gomie?" Cormag rumbled as he began fiddling with the Ox's packs, pulling out what armor pieces he'd previously doffed to make travel easier.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

With the traps and trials thus far proving to be rather doable for their party, Galahad had relatively high hopes that they could find the Crystal without much difficulty. Chisato working with him to disarm the blades, and Esben taking the lead on the last puzzle made things go by rather smoothly- much smoother than things had been going for them for the past week or so. Not long after, they'd found the Crystal of Water, in a sorry state, but still intact. All they had to do was grab it and be on their way. Perhaps their luck was finally turning- they'd had nothing but bad luck thus far, it was about time something finally went their way.

If only he could kick his past self.

Galahad came to that realization as they stood before the Guardian- Famfrit, it called itself- that they were perhaps destined suffer at the hands of fate. Resigning himself to said fate, Galahad rolled his shoulders and sighed, spinning his halberd in a simple flourish as they stood off in the face of the Totema. There was some small relief, in the form of Miina's nulfrost, and Esben's summoned companions.

With their short preparations complete, the Kirins spread out to minimize the effect any large area attacks these monsters seemed to love. Calls were made and Galahad was quick to respond- as sound a battle plan as any he could think of. Toppling it seemed doable enough- given its massive size and comparatively small legs.

"Go for its legs, I'll hit it from the top." Galahad said to Izayoi as he sprinted forth, his pace broke into one bounding step, then a second, and threw his halberd like it weighed little more than a javelin, sending it careening towards the face of the Guardian before he planted his feet and shot off the ground, a plume of water exploding behind him. He turned mid air as he burst through the air, ready to plant his feet and kick off the face of the totema a second after his halberd made contact.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

"Mmhm. Yes. Putting traps in mausoleums is very much a traditionalist thing to do." Galahad mused as he followed the others, watching as Rudolf went about his work. "I distinctly remember helping my father set bear traps in front of all the family memorials as a boy." He remarked drily.

"You know, in case bears found their way into the family crypt."

Galahad held back a few steps as Miina set off the magical mines, either by blowing them up or deactivating them. He had to hand it to the smaller Mystrel, her talent with magic was nothing to scoff at. The group moved up handily through the cleared minefield until they reached the next 'trap', a set of swinging blades- massive scythes chopping through the corridor, with channels across the floor to make room for the blades.

"Okay, now the pressure plates and mines I understand, but this is starting to get a bit absurd." Galahad couldn't help but note. The amount of work that must've gone into this trap to make sure it worked- and for such a long period of time was surely not worth the security benefit it supplied... right? Galahad shrugged, questioning why it was here didn't really solve the issue of it being here.

"I can handle this one." He murmured as he hefted his halberd and leaped up towards the ceiling, where the swinging arm of the trap was. Flipping his weapon to use the spike at the bottom of the polearm, Galahad jabbed into the crevice- with the resulting clang of metal on metal. "Gears perhaps?" He asked aloud as he leaped up again and struck towards the mechanism controlling the arms again and again until the swinging arm ground to a halt. Galahad did this with the rest of the blade arms until the corridor was still.

Vradia: Tales of the Chosen Few

Cormag Ruunsten

---

The City of Volenstul was a bustling hive of activity- it always was, rain or shine. The din of the city could be heard from miles away, people and animals all going about their business. Not far from the south gate of the city proper was a small camp- relative to the city anyway. The walls of the camp were rudimentary wooden palisades, hastily assembled logs sharpened to points and lashed together surrounding the cluster of buildings and tents larger than average. As if to dispel any confusion to who the camp belonged to, parked outside were a quartet of vehicles that were too large to be wagons- closer to sailing ships on wheels. This camp was a camp of Nar Ir-Har Ogres, once an enemy of the state, now subjugated servants. However, any animosity one might imagine there to be had long since filtered away, and if lingering tensions remained, it was hard to tell here at least.

The camp was a mess- an organized chaos, as armored ogres dragged massive crates back and forth, beasts of burden assisting them. Human officers stood atop rapidly constructed platforms, barking out orders. The piercing sound of a hammer crashing against an anvil created a rhythm for the work. A massive chest of gold sat in the center of the camp, surrounded by Imperial flags. A cadre of human officers armed with books and notepads dolled out sacks of gold to a growing line of ogres- signs of a job well done. A host of ogres returned from a season of campaigning on behalf of the Empire, come home for rest before deploying again.

However, where most of the occupants of the camp seemed to be settling in, one in particular seemed to be preparing to head out. Still clad in steel, painted the blue of Imperial Auxiliaries, Cormag Ruunsten plodded through the camp with purpose, his heavy footfalls kicking up mud as he stomped across the mud.

"Eh? Wassat there Cormag? You look like you've seen a ghost ye have." called out squat dwarf, sitting on a bench by the blacksmith's anvil. The dwarf appeared even shorter than usual, surrounded by a collection of fusilaxes he was currently servicing. Cormag merely grunted in reply as he reached across and grabbed his- particularly well maintained, with faint runes still carved along the axe blade. Out from behind the pile of axes came a familiar mastif forged of steel and wood.

"Think I very well might've." Cormag grunted in reply, as he patted the top of Ferrus' head, inspecting the weapon for a moment, before slinging it over his shoulder. "Oi Durnan, whereabouts is the supply tent again?" Without waiting for an answer, Cormag's eyes found the quartmaster's tent and began plodding over towards it.

"Eh? Cormag? I haven't even looked at that one yet-" The dwarf named Durnan called after him, throwing his hands up in frustration as the ogre disappeared beneath the tent flap.

The supply tent was less a tent and more of an open air supply depot, cordoned off by wooden walls and cloth doors. Supplies, perishable and preserved were stacked in crates. Spare weapons and ammunition in the opposite corner. One of the crates had been knocked over a little while before and currently had its contents- sacks of shot and powder currently laying haphazardly on the floor. The quartermaster in question was a big, scarred Ogre, missing eye hidden beneath an eyepatch, the wooden stump of a log in place of his foot.

"Cormag? What's all this eh?" Quartermaster Orlson asked with a cocked eyebrow as Cormag passed him a list of supplies. "Fight's over, didn't you know? Its our first break in months, and you're heading out again? Go be a good son and pay your family a visit." The aging quartermaster chuckled. The big ogre merely shrugged in response.

"That's the plan, sah'." Cormag replied with a shrug. "Thinkin' my da's gotten himself into some trouble up by Somerset." Cormag didn't explain any further than that. Instead, he pulled a sack of coin from his hip and placed it on the table, the heavy metal clinking against the wood. "I'll need another combat supply of shot and powder, field pack, spare tools, forge, a wee bit of rum and one of tha' pack Oxen. I've got the scratch for it o'course."

"For what? You know the Imps don't take kindly to Ogres walking around with ammunition- not without service lined up." Asked Orlson.

"Just get me the gear you cottonhead. Tell 'em I'm responding to an aid request out by Somerset." Cormag remarked as he made his way to the front of the tent and began unshackling one of the Ox from the front of the armory tent, a large brown beast with a collar labeled 'Gomie'. Still confused, Orlson nonetheless nonehteless accepted the coin and began pulling the supplies out of the armory, and handed them down to Cormag who quickly strapped them to the sides of pack Ox: A leather covered box filled with 40 balls of lead shot and powder, a field pack with all the typical supplies needed for overland travel- mess kit, bedroll, waterskins, field rations, fishing line, an aid kit and the like- a half full bottle of rum, and a mobile forge. Seemingly satisfied with his quick preparations, Cormag nodded to himself and began stomping off in the direction of Somerset, his pack ox and steel defender dutifully following behind him.