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Quest For The Black Keys (IC, FanT)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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The Rhythm Nation
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 153
Founded: Oct 23, 2009
Ex-Nation

Quest For The Black Keys (IC, FanT)

Postby The Rhythm Nation » Mon Jun 20, 2022 8:48 pm

Wang Chung checked the datapad in his hands again. Well, shit. He had known the adventuring party he was assembling would be going into dangerous places, but he hadn’t expected this much danger this quickly. He looked back up… the first of the adventurers were arriving now, he recognized the one from Olwe. Jake Wansor was known to him already, and easily picked out of the sparse crowd by his cowboy-style hat. “Hello”, he greeted them with a slight Chinese accent, much less pronounced than it was a few hundred years ago. “Once everyone has arrived I need to brief you as a group, some new information has recently come to light.” Why does it have to be in Balazar?, he thought.

(OOC: Just in case y’all wanted to do a meet and greet before springing right into the action, I’m leaving the thread open to do that here. I can start moving the plot along in my next post.)
Yes, all musical references are intentional.

The Rhythm Nation was founded in 1369 and is still around as late as 5000 AD, so I can RP in any tech setting you want. But magic does exist and can be used, and this is non-negotiable.

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Aensland Forest
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Posts: 106
Founded: Feb 27, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Aensland Forest » Mon Jun 20, 2022 9:46 pm

Flora walked through the old fashioned market, trying to blend in among the shoppers even though there were few of them and she didn’t see any other Elves. She wondered who the other adventurers were… were they trying to blend in too, or did they want to stand out like that man in the funny hat? Would they be pale like her, or was that Arab over there part of her party? Would there be another Elf?

Whatever. She couldn’t wait to meet them, regardless. A Chinese man spoke up ahead, loudly enough to be clearly heard by Flora and pretty much everyone nearby. At first it appeared he was specifically addressing the man in the strange hat she’d noticed earlier, but then he started scanning the crowd, locked eyes with her and gave a subtle nod as if to say, “Yes I’m talking to you”. She realized who this must be… the Planeswalker, Wang Chung.

She walked over to where Chung was standing, awaiting the other adventurers. She couldn’t wait to meet them.
FanT forever!

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Gothian Crimea
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 462
Founded: Sep 04, 2021
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Gothian Crimea » Mon Jun 20, 2022 9:51 pm

Franziska rode proudly into the market on her unicorn, seemingly not caring about any looks she received. They didn't matter to her anyway, she had one goal. To link up with Wang Chung. It took her a bit of looking to find him, but Asians didn't seem to common in this area, so he wasn't the hardest to spot, though she herself certainly stood out much more, even if she hadn't been mounted on unicorn. Then he heard him talk, which confirmed who he was. She had finally arrived, the quest would soon begin. If she had any last minute preparations, it was time to make them now.
Come out, the WA has passed a resolution. Actions will be taken to bring your nation into compliance.
I HATE THE ANTICHIRST I HATE THE ANTICHRIST I HATE THE ANTICHRIST I HATE THE ANTICHRIST
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Wesenheim
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 12
Founded: Jun 12, 2022
Ex-Nation

Postby Wesenheim » Mon Jun 20, 2022 10:46 pm

Jürgen Bach entered the marketplace in human form, preferring to keep a low profile until he isolated Wang Chung from among the crowd. It didn’t take him long… he got a hunch that he should follow the woman riding the unicorn, and turned out to be right. As she and her mount came to a stop he stood next to her and woged, partly to try and freak her out and partly to identify himself to the Planeswalker.

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Vietstalia
Secretary
 
Posts: 28
Founded: Nov 20, 2021
Corporate Police State

Postby Vietstalia » Tue Jun 21, 2022 8:54 pm

Vyl Sharptail was the cleverest rat he knew. His dead competition could affirm it to him. Of course he wasn't REALLY the cleverest rat, but the Skaven aren't known for the humbleness. Altogether he would have made a terrifying shape for any poor peasant woman who walked through an alley-way at night, his black fur gleaming in the moonlight, his naked snout and tail moving in the night sky. Wickedly white teeth, an unusual trait for the generally foul mouths of the vermin, stuck out of his jaw, sharpened by the constant gnawing on the bones of his victims. Each hand holding a cruel weeping blade, warpstone shurikens lodged in his belt, their green glimmering barely visible in the darkness. But Vyl wasn't hunting peasant girls in small town alleys. He was sneaking by a bustling market in the middle of the day. He obviously couldn't afford to be seen, a vermin like him would immediately stick out like a sore thumb, and his manner of dress could only raise red flags as to his intentions. besides, it was best if any potential targets didn't know he was there, the element surprise is a valuable too. For awhile the day had seemed relatively boring. But the something unexpected happened. An entire series of unexpected somethings. A figure dressed in cowboy garbs meeting someone who seemed reminiscent of a Nipponese ninja. How strange. If it wasn't for what followed next he would have though little of it, given how many other strange encounter occurred in the market on a regular basis. An elven female joined them. Then a woman on a unicorn. And strangest of all was some creature that seemed to be undergoing a most foul transformation. It still wasn't as hideous as his own broodmother, whom he killed when a rival clan payed him a hefty sum for his services. The bosses certainly would be VERY interested in this occurrence. Perhaps he could even few warpstone tokens for his trouble.
Last edited by Vietstalia on Tue Jun 21, 2022 8:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
PRAISE THE GREAT HORNED RAT | Vietstalia | Warhammer Fantasy best Warhammer | WE ARE IN YOUR WALLS NO-FUR
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Olwe
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Posts: 4934
Founded: Jan 22, 2004
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Olwe » Tue Jun 21, 2022 9:29 pm

Jake Wansor knew he had been noticed. He glanced over briefly at the woman whose attention he had grabbed. Sharp features, graceful movements, impossibly perfect skin… she’s hiding her ears, but she’s an Elf, he thought. The human supremacist terrorist group The Human League had been founded in this country, and was known to still be active… he couldn’t blame her for trying to blend in.

Something that the Wesen nearby didn’t seem to care much about. Hundjäger? That’s interesting. Could come in handy if he’s part of our group. There was a woman riding a unicorn too… not entirely unheard of in The Rhythm Nation, but rare enough that some shoppers’ eyes were on her nonetheless.

“Quite the interesting group you’ve assembled,” he said wryly.
Founded: 2480
Current year: 5001
Magic: Non-negotiable
Ponies: Yes, occasionally
Tech levels incompatible? Then kick me out of the thread, because if you RP with me you accept my tech.
Note: Before 2480, Olwe was called Athan. If you see this word in a thread, it's because you mentioned a year incompatible with Olwe in that thread but still made it open to all techs and therefore are allowing Athan's magic.
RP population: 21 billion
Embassy program: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=203258

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The Rhythm Nation
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Posts: 153
Founded: Oct 23, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby The Rhythm Nation » Tue Jun 21, 2022 9:43 pm

“But wait, there’s more!” Wang Chung said with a smile, his voice changing to a surprisingly successful approximation of a TV salesman. “No, seriously though. Not everyone is here yet. Not even everyone from Aensland.”

———————————————————————————

“I’m telling you,” Eric Carmen said into the phone. “You need to get down here right away, freaks are showing up at the market. No, I know that one time the one I thought was an Elf was just a really hot human, but this is different. Texting you the proof now.” He send the picture he had taken of the Wesen’s woge. “See? And now there’s something else. Gotta be ten feet tall. Ugly as fuck. Get the boys down here, and make sure they’re loaded for bear.”
Yes, all musical references are intentional.

The Rhythm Nation was founded in 1369 and is still around as late as 5000 AD, so I can RP in any tech setting you want. But magic does exist and can be used, and this is non-negotiable.

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Aensland Forest
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 106
Founded: Feb 27, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Aensland Forest » Tue Jun 21, 2022 9:54 pm

Bror was worried. Flora had managed to give him the slip again, and as he made his way to the market there were more people to stare at him. Ogres must not be common in this country… he’d noticed that most of the buildings certainly weren’t designed with someone his size in mind. Up ahead he saw a woman on a unicorn. That was probably the general area where Flora was.

He was right. He found his charge standing next to a man in a strange hat, who was speaking to another human. “Stop disappearing on Bror,” he said. “Not nice.”

“I’m sorry,” Flora said. “I’ll make it up to you later, don’t worry.” Flora liked making things up to ogres… all the body parts were to scale.

“You disappear on purpose,” Bror accused. “Sex for you, not me.”

She smiled. “You’re far more intelligent than people give you credit for, Bror.”
FanT forever!

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Polish Prussian Commonwealth
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Posts: 4691
Founded: Oct 30, 2018
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Polish Prussian Commonwealth » Tue Jun 21, 2022 10:23 pm

Image
In which allies are made, enemies noted, and hopefully no 6" HE shells are fired.


Those soon-to-be adventurers would hear a slight commotion from further back. A tall woman, pale-skinned, raven-haired, guided a tall, chestnut horse through the crowd. She was clearly military of some sort, and not the local one either. The chainmail fit in well enough, but the helmet -- broad-brimmed and visorless -- did not. Likewise, the heavy, padded khaki uniform and shorts beneath her mail were clearly not local, and neither were her spit-shined high-cut leather boots. A rifle and bayonet, slung over her back, accompanied a heavy two-handed sword hanging at her waist, secured tightly in a plain leather scabbard.

As she approached her new party, her eyes fell on Wang Chung, then Flora, then Franziska, Jake, Jürgen. A few might have seen flashes as her hollowed eyes met theirs -- a sword and pennant-lance, stained with gods-blood; vast fleets of steel and steam clashing for the fate of the world; hosts of hooded men and women, armed with rifles and blades, slipping through the forest like ghosts or wraiths.

But as soon as those came, they passed, and the newcomer dismounted her horse and strode forth, still holding on to the reins, singling out Wang Chung in particular.

This is the place, and this is the person. 'It was revealed to me in a dream'.

Rota's lip curled at the thought.

'It was revealed to me in a dream'; the common refrain of inebriated academics challenged on their sources at dinner-parties, usually with the jocular implication that they had none -- nothing with which to back up their wild flights of fancy and baseless assertions.

And yet...

Further back was her ship, her hull -- within, was her crew, which gave her life. And here she was, staking her life -- all their lives -- on a venture that would lead to no good end. "Black Keys", "Planeswalkers" -- she had little knowledge of what any of those were. All had merely wished to disappear after Gotland. With the Swedish Navy hounding them on one side and the Soviets on the other, there was little other choice. Deals were cut, things that should never had been done were done -- and here they were. A ship-spirit and her warship, with a full complement of crew and supplies...

...She didn't know if the locals stocked diesel oil or 6" naval artillery shells. Hopefully, whoever was organizing this...party would provide. If not, she could still offer her sword.

"Greetings." She doffed her helmet with her free hand, and held it against her chest. She glanced over her new compatriots, once more. "You are...?"
Last edited by Polish Prussian Commonwealth on Tue Jun 21, 2022 10:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Furthermore, I submit that Carthage NSG must be destroyed."
-Marcus Porcius Cato

A traumatized, but recovering, MT-PMT constitutional monarchy consisting of a personal union of Prussia and Poland. A land of rampant gun ownership, governmental schizophrenia, militias with enough heavy weapons to turn an armored division into a badly-shaken battalion of light infantry, and terrified USAF personnel counting down the days until they rotate back home.


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Olwe
Senator
 
Posts: 4934
Founded: Jan 22, 2004
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Olwe » Wed Jun 22, 2022 3:48 am

Jake recognized the familiar scent of the sea on the new arrival, and immediately decided he liked her based on that. Something told him she’d respond positively to his formal rank if he included it. “High Admiral Jake Wansor,” he said, “at your service.” Technically the active duty High Admiral was Caretta Devincenzi, but the rank still counted even though Jake was officially retired from the military. Besides, unofficially he still did quite a few things for the Olwean government.
Founded: 2480
Current year: 5001
Magic: Non-negotiable
Ponies: Yes, occasionally
Tech levels incompatible? Then kick me out of the thread, because if you RP with me you accept my tech.
Note: Before 2480, Olwe was called Athan. If you see this word in a thread, it's because you mentioned a year incompatible with Olwe in that thread but still made it open to all techs and therefore are allowing Athan's magic.
RP population: 21 billion
Embassy program: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=203258

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Dyste
Minister
 
Posts: 2355
Founded: Mar 15, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Dyste » Wed Jun 22, 2022 1:08 pm

When Tyroth retired as the King of Dyste just a scant few years ago, he thought his adventuring days might've been behind him, as he had mostly retired to a remote cottage in the countryside. And yet, the urge to explore, to see new lands never left the draconid, as he took to this new challenge with the vigor of a man much younger than he actually was.

Arriving in what was obviously a disguise to those that knew him, he appeared as a mostly average pale-skinned man in his early thirties, medium length brown hair and eyes, wearing a fur-trimmed dark blue cloak. With a bow, he gave a smile, "My deepest apologies for not arriving in my usual way," Jake would be well-aware of the former king's tendencies in making a big entrance, "But with as many eyes as we may have on us, I shall reserve my usual theatrics for when the time is right." He tapped a charm around his neck which appeared to be making this guise for him, "If you would excuse an old man's tardiness, I give you my greetings on this fine day."
Dyste: A nation of large, long-lived, magic-using dragon-people (Draconids) ruled by a legendary adventurer. Realism? What's that?
DRACONID AND A MEMBER OF THE MULTI-SPECIES UNION!
MEMBER OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF CLAWS AND FANGS
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Rulers: King Tyroth, Queen Sarisa, Prime Minister Zihark Jemson
Capital: Valitora
Government Type: Semi-Constitutional Monarchy
Population: 14,457,200, Draconid Majority (60%), Kobold/Dino/Elven/Pony/Human minorities
Founded: Early 15th century
Tech: Lower-tech fantasy (can RP with PT/MT)
Canadian, fan of Video Games (Nintendo in particular) and Tabletop RPGs.
I love RP'ing, but note my schedule can be iffy at times. If you want to RP with me, TG me and we can talk.

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Aensland Forest
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 106
Founded: Feb 27, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Aensland Forest » Thu Jun 23, 2022 12:35 am

“There’s a powerful enchantment on him,” Flora observed under her breath of the new arrival.

Bror nodded. “Bror feel it too,” he said, looking down at Tyroth quizzically. What was this person hiding? Must be kobold or other small race, he thought. Must be defense mechanism. Being nearly eleven feet tall with weight — and strength — to match, Bror didn’t need to conceal his true nature… he didn’t even need to use his magic in order to make most people seriously regret attacking him. But a goblin or something like that might need to travel incognito.

“The new woman isn’t what she appears to be, either,” Flora said. “I have no idea what she is — never sensed anything like her — but she isn’t Human or Elf.”

That Bror hadn’t sensed. He didn’t like this… people with things to hide might not be trustworthy.

“Easy,” Flora said, placing a hand on his forearm. He had reached for a weapon without realizing. “I feel no hostile intent from either of them. Let’s try to make a good first impression.”
FanT forever!

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New United States of Columbia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1256
Founded: Jul 17, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby New United States of Columbia » Sat Jun 25, 2022 8:57 pm

Foley hated the rain. Staring down at the pinprick yellow lights of hamlets and villages from the Rocky Mountains, the newly reborn Emperor, master of North America, gave a snarl as he felt the cold droplets splatting across his skin. The distant clap of thunder echoed through its audio receptors, signaling the coming intense storm. Indeed, as the ruler of a continent turned around, sweeping the violet cape attached to the golden power armor behind him, another clap was heard as the seasonal downpour began. A mix of squelching and thrompe echoed throughout the giant room as the emperor retreated indoors, each step he trekked leaving a faint glitter of water as he returned to his sanctuary.
“Lights.” The deep voice commanded as the door to the patio automatically shut, hazelnut eyes scanning the room for them. Where were they? They should be here by-
“Bedroom lights on.” A cool synthetic female voice responded, as the fortress AI switched on intense white light. As it did so, it showed who the man was waiting for. The women and man stood there, decked out in the finest imperial regalia Paul had ever seen. Three pairs of eyes looked back at him, a warmth in their features as the man pulled a small metallic device out of his pocket. He pressed a button and soon a large hologram of the world, bathed in Columbian red, greeted them. He gave the imperial a small smile.
“The War is over, father.” He said in a matter of fact tone “With the last of the hold outs extinguished, the world is yours.”
Foley looked from the digital earth to his son and daughters.
“Ours.” He corrected, his eyes looking from his son to his daughters and back “If we are to rule, we rule as a family.”
At this declaration, all three of the Foley children broke into happy smiles at their fathers declaration. They were one and whole again. Or so it seemed…

Flames suddenly engulfed the room, a giant barrier coming between Paul and his children. He could hear mad laughter as he surveyed the room frantically, looking for who had just launched this attack on him and his children.
“Father!” He could hear Joshua cry, as Foley could barely make him out from the hellish inferno, hiding his sisters as one of the Empeor’s masters advanced on them, the flames not even tickling him, not stopping his relentless advance. The family patriarch tried to grab his blade but found his arms locked in place. He could do nothing, command of his body forcefully taken from him, the only thing he could do was watch as his children were stolen from him again as the fire began to lick at his cape, creeping upward slowly, to draw out his torment.
“Why won’t you die?” He hissed in a low and dark tone as his brown eyes fixated on the monster that began to close the distance. More screams and pleadings for help reached him, as he brought every ounce of willpower to override his master’s control. ‘They need you!’ was all the emperor could think.
“Why won’t you die!” He roared as the flames began to grasp his body beneath the armor, the intensifying heat counting upward in a corner of his armor’s HUD. The armor’s AI began to cry out the temperature as the flames took over the entire room, causing the structure to buckle. As the monster raised a hand towards Joshua, as the sight of his most prized possessions in the entire world was taken away by the hell that engulfed him, as the flames began to melt away his skin and melt the wiring of his suit, he could hear his tormentor laugh, colder and more psychotic than ever. Eyes now focused upward, watering from the smoke as the inferno began to claim the last Foley for it’s ever hungry appetite, the emperor gave a final scream of rage at his master.
“WHY WON’T YOU EVER-“


Reinhardt shivered as he clanked through the grey industrial halls of the laboratory. The Holy Order’s experiment worked wonders, truly creating a beast of hell to sic on their enemies. Of course, he was the one to get the short end of the stick and be the one that had to wake it up. The harsh lights flared down on him as the maze was nearly finished, his terrible task now staring at him as the operative of the Holy Order of Saint Anthony spied a sign next to the automatic doors:
Projekt Luzifer
Their answer to beings of magic and the final solution to all would be rogue elements of their puppet empire… this beast of alloys, synthetic skin, layered intricate life support systems, and with more cybernetics crammed into his corpse than there were even at the Devil’s Tower quantum mainframe! This should have been rotting carcass was their ultimate weapon. An ultimate weapon with a shattered psyche.
BOOM!
Reinhardt narrowly avoided a giant fist that tore through the door as the white knuckle ended just mere inches from his helmeted face. The Teutonic man let out a yelp before the beast withdrew it’s hand. The now damaged door lifted upwards to reveal, well, to Reinhardt, The First Beast of Revelation.

Foley was no longer a man. In most of the Order’s eyes, no longer human at all, though wether for good or ill depended on the Brüder you talked to. The beast was a true giant, tall at ten feet in height and easily wide and thick limbed like a tree. His eyes had tiny blue pinpricks all over, the little blue spots part of his ‘HUD’ giving him a constant stream of information. All the better to keep him ahead of his prey. Reinhardt heard his deep, Draconic breathing, as Foley glared down at him, teeth bared. The Brüder felt his right foot instinctively turn to begin running as fast as he could from the Columbian monster, indeed, all he could think was to sprint as fast as he could… for all the good dying tired would bring. Breath shaky, eyes fixated on the inhuman creature, he stood stock still, as if by not moving even a finger, he’d avoid being eaten. Taking a slightly calming breath after a few moments hesitation, he fulfilled the task he was sent down for:
“The Hochmeister wants to speak with you. Your Imperial Majesty.”
The monster’s breathing seemed to slow and calm somewhat. Eyes, once filled with an unstable fire, now dull and lifeless, fixed straight ahead.
“Lead on.” A deep and synthetic rumble came from the giant as he began to step out of the room. Reinhardt scrambled to get out of the way as the Emperor left and began to head to the leader of HOSA, while the Brüder promptly collapsed against the wall, taking great lungfulls of air, letting out relieved laugh. People who usually “woke up” Foley while he was having one of his fits rarely returned, if they did, usually with great trauma of the order’s attack dog. Remembering what else he was supposed to tell the golden armored man, Reinhardt cursed to himself before sprinting down the grey halls to catch up to Emperor. Despite only having a few minutes head-start, Foley was already halfway to the cargo elevator. Now able to slow down from sprint to quick job, Reinhardt filled the Columbian in on the mission.
“The Order needs you to retrieve some artifacts of great importance. These devices, we believe, allow one to see into, if not GO TO other realities. With them in our hands, the Order and your Empire will be guaranteed to reign supreme. They could allow us to see technologies that none of us could dream of, see alliances made in secret against us, forecast economic doenturns. Whoever has them will not just be a superpower. They could become a hyper-power!”
The Emperor said nothing, just continued his strides and scan. Reinhardt didn’t press much, figuring he was heard, for Foley had been indoctrinated to be loyal to HOSA, especially to the Hochmeister. A ferocious hellhound as the most loyal pet… no wonder his rule was never challenged by other high ranking Brüders.

Finally arriving at the central war room, the giant and the order member were greeted by four figures. Three were in the signature white robes of the Holy Order, the red sigil emblazoned on the chest piece, while the fourth and tallest of them (though nowhere near as tall as Foley), was decked out in total Teutonic Knight armor, helmet with feathered wings stretching skyward, gold and black order sigil on the chest, and steel plating all over, though none knew it was much more than ceremonial armor. Upon sighting him, the beast took several giant steps forward before kneeling, head bowed to the knight.
“You summoned me, master?”
The Hochmeister nodded and motioned for Foley to stand.
“You are being given and army and several advisors for a mission that I’m confident Brüder Reinhardt has informed you about. The Order knows now of twelve mystical artifacts that can supposedly allow one to see or possibly enter something. Our researchers and spies aren’t entirely clear on if these are mere visions of what could be, full on alternative realities, or if these other existences can be pulled from. They are, however, very powerful artifacts. These ‘keys’ must be retrieve at all cost.”
He turned to the large table in the center of the room. Tapping some buttons, a gigantic hologram of the earth beamed to life. It spun rapidly before focusing on one of the many nations, far from Columbian waters. It then zoomed in before a small screen popped up, showing the market and the small gathering happening at it.
“With all these operatives and your favorite friend,” the Teutonic Knight continued, a wry tone added at the last bit “gathering here, we suspect either one of these keys is located around that area or they’ll be gathering information on them. Get the keys and kill anyone that tries to get in the way.”
As soon as he finished, the three other men stepped forward and nodded to Foley.
“Your advisors, Brüders Falkenreith, Cothran, and Froscht. They’ll be your help dealing with magic, any would be adventurers, and commanding your forces.”
The beast looked from the Hochmeister to the three men. He scanned them, taking a few seconds to think, before he gave an approving noise.
“We shall depart immediately.” He said to the Holy Order’s leader, before signaling the three men to follow as he began to leave the fortress.
Last edited by New United States of Columbia on Sat Jun 25, 2022 9:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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The Harbingers of Chaos
Secretary
 
Posts: 28
Founded: Jun 03, 2022
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Harbingers of Chaos » Sun Jun 26, 2022 10:08 pm

The Harbinger Of Chaos
Space Hulk

The sound of sabatons against the metal floor rung loudly as the footmen made their way to the nook of the Hulk which they had carved out for themselves. Eyes and tentacles grew from the walls watching and reaching for them necessitating the occasionally slash of a sword to keep the walls themselves at bay. Whispers echoed through the halls but they were ignored by the soldiery. They knew what happened to those who heed the call of the ship and it was a fate they didn't wish upon themselves. There were twelve of them, eleven soldiers covered in tattered and faded red and blue fatigues covered in dried blood and rife with mutation. Some had horns, others had grown new limbs and others still leaked foul liquids from their pores but all of them had been somewhat changed from their time in the great metal home the Gods had created for them. The last following behind all the rest bound with rope and gagged with some cut rags. His eyes glowed with the power of the warp as a kaleidoscope of hues came from his face illuminating the dark hallway. He had no shirt or shoes and was covered in cuts and bruises. His greasy brown hair fell downwards into his face as he kept his head down, weak from the journey he'd been taken on. The men were told that he was different from the wizards from their world. From where he was from he was a psyker.

As they stepped over the final few fleshy growths on the way to their base the soldiers and their unwilling cargo finally arrived at the base of The Sons of the Pantheon. The group took a turn to the left where there was a door stretching to the ceiling presenting the outline of a long removed Aquilla covered in rust and grime from untold years on unuse. The name of their warband had been seared into the door letting all know that it was the Sons who owned this portion of the Hulk. Static flowed from a vox-speaker on the wall punctuated with the sound of light breathing, "Who does the Eightfold Path belong to?"

The lead mutant stepped forward and replied, "The Eightfold Path belongs to the followers of the Eightfold Prophet."

With that the door began to creak as the door was slowly opened by a legion of followers, ropes bound to their backs replacing the long inactive hydraulics which once opened this door. Within lay what resembled a ramshackle town with homes comprised of metal fragments, bone, and whatever other baubles the inhabitants saw fit to construct their shelter with. Makeshift markets sold demonic artifacts and potions claiming to bestow the blessings of Chaos onto its drinker as men armed with maces walked around the slave quarters to ensure that there were no rebellions to upset the careful balance of their horde. As the group of soldiers and their prisoner walked up the main road the smell of sulfur and flame rose into their nostrils coming from the blacksmiths forging swords to their sides. In front of them and at the center of the city was their destination, a gargantuan temple lined with gold along every side of it and torches illuminating the flight of stairs leading to the entrance. At the very top of the temple there was the icon of an eight-pointed star. The Star of Chaos.

Marching up the stairs they again reached a set of doors before them but this time the doors opened by themselves as the prisoner was tossed to the floor, a carpet pulling him deeper within the interior while his guards bowed and left. The psyker was left in the darkness of the inner sanctum desperately trying to pull himself out of his binds until-

"Hello there young one." A light suddenly illuminated the throne in front of him revealing the head of a lion with its eyes boring directly into the back of the Psyker's skull. He jumped back; the Psyker had never seen a lion before, but something told him that the grey coloration of this one's head was strange, stranger still was the accent that the creature spoke in sounding something like a nasal yet flowing version of gothic that he had never quite heard before. He struggled in his restraints some more hoping to avoid the maw of this creature eliciting a laugh from his captor, "Here, allow me to loosen those from you." While he would have refused the long arms that reached out from the shadows pulled him in before he could do very much. One thing he noticed as the arms came out to pull him in is that they were very distinctly human, long and lanky but also pale and veiny. Another thing that was quickly brought to the Psyker's attention was the number of the arms. There were two hands working on unbinding his arms, another two at work at his gag, and four more simply feeling it's way around his body. It was strange but certainly not the worst fate which could befall him within these walls.

"There we go-." said the mutant, "Now, would you be so kind as to tell me your name?"

The Psyker was tempted to spit in the face of this beast and run but he knew that he was at the mercy of this particular cult, and it would likely end poorly if he tried to escape now, "Ambrosius Isoah from planet-"

Ambrosius was cut off, "Ah, you stop that! We don't need to go into frivolities such as what planet you come from. What I want to know are the truth in some rumors I've heard." Ambrosius again opened his mouth to speak but again, "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Gilot le Prestre, the Eightfold Prophet and founder of this nexus of Godly splendor. Now please go on."

It took some moments for Ambrosius to attempt to speak again but once he had become sure that he would not again be interrupted he began, "...To begin I would need to know what rumors in particular you are looking for. I'm sure you're aware that the amount of rumors in this gods-forsaken place is nigh endless."

"Well, I am told that you received a vision from the Raven God himself telling you of a very interesting artifact somewhere in real space. Is it true? Has Tzeentch shown you this Black Note?" Gilot said, one of his hands holding up his head.

Ambrosius' face flashed with shock, "How do you know?! I told no one!" He thought for a moment before his face was overcome with realization, "Did Zyclaneia tell you!?"

Gilot's giggled lightly, "Oh no, no, no Mr. Isoah, no one from your little secret cult revealed anything to me. I was visited by a servant of The Changer of Ways in a dream, and I was shown your little secret. Worry not, I'm not one of those brutes who would torture the location out of you. Just tell me where it is, and I'll let you on your way."

"And why should I tell you? What reason do I have to not kill you right where you stand?" Ambrosius scoffed.

Gilot rolled his eyes at this threat, "Because I know you would've done so already. You want to please the Gods as much as I do, and you know that this Black Key is something they're interested in. Let me get to the heart of the matter, I want you to tell me where you saw the Key and should you so choose accompany some of my men in their attempts to find it."

A few moments passed as Ambrosius looked down at the ground silent, "Fine, I don't know the exact location, but I felt a certain attraction towards some marketplace. I saw..." he grimaced as the memories of his vision flooded back to him, "...a group, they were of all kinds, humans and xenos alike and they were invited to find the Black Key. If we can follow them I believe we can be lead to the Black Key."

Gilot’s maw turned into something that could resemble a grin, “Excellent! Voulo! Assemble the men and take this one!” Next to the throne that Gilot sat in another would be revealed to Ambrosius illuminated with a baleful blue fire. The Mark of Tzeentch sat above the throne as another mutant clapped wildly with hands swollen to abnormal size. On his head was a horn fashioned in the shape of his Tzeentch’s rune. His eyes were beady and red as Voulo cackled in tones which no human should’ve been able to reach.

“Yes, yes! This is exactly what he told me needed to happen!” jeered Voulo, spittle flying from his mouth

Ambrosius raised an eyebrow, “Wait, who is he? Did your prophet predict this?"

Mad laughter erupted from Voulo's maw, "No! No! He told me! Can't you hear him?"

Gilot himself joined in on the laughing as Ambrosius' expression slowly turned to confusion, "Ah, and so it begins!"

The Marketplace

Scattered throughout the market were men in ragged clothing seemingly beggars thrown onto the street and left to survive on the generosity of their fellow citizen. They were as ordinary as they came if one were to ignore the warp portals from which they emerged this morning and the strange symbols carved into their skin where no one could see. These men were Sons of The Pantheon disguised as that which they had been before their induction watching for the group Ambrosius had described to them before they had left with Mage-Master Voulo.

As the party assembled one of the vagrants on the side of the road would scrape the bottom of a rusted bowl especially loudly which caused enough to cough and caused another to preform some other innocuous action as the sounds of the marketplace drowned out the noises of the Sons secret alarm. Little did the adventurers know that they had just been spotted.




“They found them.” Ambrosius said as he put down his binoculars. The rags which he had yesterday had been replaced with the finest robes which the pre-industrial society could provide him which admittedly wasn’t much better. The clothes were black and, as far as Ambrosius could tell, extremely itchy. He could only assume that the rest of the warband had only become used to it.

The injuries he had sustained during his capture had mostly been healed leaving only the worst bruises and scabs left on his visage. The glow in his eyes was slightly suppressed revealing that they were at one time brown but with enough time one could see the light emanating outwards.

Voulo snickered as he took the binoculars into his own hands, “Good, good…. They will follow, yes? He thinks that this would be best.”

Ambrosius rolled his eyes as he hears his words, “Yes, yes, I very clearly told them to keep watch of our queries.” He let a moment pass, “Do tell me who ‘he’ is? You’ve been rambling on about him forever now and I’ve never gotten a straight answer.”

“Mwahahaha! He doesn’t want you to know yet! All will be revealed in time, oh yes, everything will be revealed!” Voulo continued to cackle as he watched their targets from afar as Ambrosius sighed and prepared himself for what was sure to be a most taxing adventure. Surrounded by maniacs and enigmatic figures he already wished that he had never been captured but such was the will of the Gods and he knew better than anyone that none could defy that.

The Black Keys would be the path to securing something important to Ambrosius. If he could only endure soon everything that had been promised to him would be his. This was only the beginning of that path.

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The Rhythm Nation
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 153
Founded: Oct 23, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby The Rhythm Nation » Fri Jul 01, 2022 1:00 am

In the distance, someone made a scraping sound, immediately followed by a cough. Wang Chung scanned the crowd, senses alert, searching for anything more out of place than the adventurers he’d summoned. Or…

Something too much in place. This marketplace was known to cater to exotic tastes and attracted a lot of foreigners (though most of them were human, or at least human passing), which is why Wang Chung had chosen it in the first place. So why did he recognize the faces of so many locals unless…

“Down!” he said as he saw the guns starting to come out. The marketplace erupted with automatic weapons fire, bullets and shrapnel spraying in every direction. He saw several of the adventurers moving to defend themselves, or in some cases the nearest innocent civilian. Good. They’ll have a chance to prove themselves early.

He tried to maintain situational awareness, wanting to see what his new friends were capable of, while he teleported onto the nearest rooftop. There were four armed men firing down from that roof… he reappeared inside the first one, splattering him all over the place on his way back out. The second one only got to turn halfway toward Wang Chung before the ninja had snapped his neck. Leaping past the falling body, he dispatched the next man with a flying spin kick that sent him over the edge with a familiar sounding scream. The fourth man got some shots off. Wang Chung deflected the first one with his sword, then summoned a Planeswalker portal to suck the others into. Advancing on his final opponent, he grew the portal ever closer to him… until he was sucked in after his bullets. The plane he had been sent to was not a hospitable one… he was eaten within three minutes.
Yes, all musical references are intentional.

The Rhythm Nation was founded in 1369 and is still around as late as 5000 AD, so I can RP in any tech setting you want. But magic does exist and can be used, and this is non-negotiable.

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Aensland Forest
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 106
Founded: Feb 27, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Aensland Forest » Fri Jul 01, 2022 6:42 am

Flora saw Bror stagger slightly as the bullets hit him, but he didn’t go down… rounds of this small caliber, unenchanted, were painful but wouldn’t cause any damage to an Ogre. Really, all they’d succeed in doing is pissing him off. For her part, Flora could dodge bullets… the flexibility of an Elf allowed her to contort her body into positions that would be potentially lethal for a human, granting her the ability to do a bullet time sort of thing for at least a little while.

Coming back up from one of those awkward positions, she managed somehow to make the transition into a combat roll look graceful. She bounced to her feet directly behind two of the Human League insurgents, and deftly slit their throats. The ground rumbled, signifying Bror making his move. The Ogre lifted a nearby kiosk one handed and hurled it at a trio of gunmen, crushing them beneath it.
FanT forever!

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Olwe
Senator
 
Posts: 4934
Founded: Jan 22, 2004
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Olwe » Fri Jul 01, 2022 11:14 pm

Jake was talking to Tyroth when he heard the shouted warning. Leaping sideways, he pulled out his dragon claw and matched the enemy rapid fire for rapid fire. Only his weapon wouldn’t run out of ammo. He saw at least two bodies drop, rolled to his feet and came up still firing. Who are they? he thought. A brief tactical analysis provided him with an answer… the heaviest fire was aimed at the delegations from Wesenheim and Aensland. The most obvious nonhumans in the group. Of course… they were on the Human League’s home turf, it made sense to encounter them. He cast a fireball spell, even though pyromancy wasn’t his strong suit… Jake was a water elementalist. The fireball would therefore be weak, but it would do the trick with minimal collateral damage as opposed to his tsunami spell which was strong enough to obliterate Music City.

One of the bad guys on fire went down, while another took off running. The others managed to avoid the blast, but everyone else was bringing weapons to hand or readying spells now… Jake’s fellow adventurers would dispatch the remaining terrorists with ease.
Founded: 2480
Current year: 5001
Magic: Non-negotiable
Ponies: Yes, occasionally
Tech levels incompatible? Then kick me out of the thread, because if you RP with me you accept my tech.
Note: Before 2480, Olwe was called Athan. If you see this word in a thread, it's because you mentioned a year incompatible with Olwe in that thread but still made it open to all techs and therefore are allowing Athan's magic.
RP population: 21 billion
Embassy program: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=203258

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Kingdom of Bornai
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 157
Founded: May 17, 2022
New York Times Democracy

Postby Kingdom of Bornai » Sat Jul 02, 2022 2:11 am

Croissant have almost arrived at the marketplace as he heard gunshots coming from it. He quickly cast a shield spell then a teleportation spell as a bright light covered gim. As the light dissipates, he notices some people shooting at an ogre and an elf. Before he can say anything, one of the armed people noticed him and shoots at him, although the bullets does nothing more than a scratch to a powerful ancient mage's magic shield. He shoots out a bolt of lightning killing the armed man instantly while also vaporizing him. He then ask the elf "Is this Wang Chung's adventuring party meeting point? If so sorry i'm late, I have some other business to attend to." as he cast a Dragon's Breath spell albeit a miniature one killing multiple of the armed people into ashes. For his standards, he don't even put these armed people into his eyes much more as enemies as this kind of strength are only comparable to at most an ant.
Member of the MOCHOVIAN COOPERATIVE ACCORDS

A [15.83] civilization, according to this index.

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New United States of Columbia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1256
Founded: Jul 17, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby New United States of Columbia » Sat Jul 02, 2022 10:29 am

As the fight was going on between the adventuring party and the “Human League” attackers, they were all being watched by a Teutonic looking man. He sought cover in one of the temples near the market place, using it as a vantage point to watch the fight unfolding, taking many mental notes as he watched the adventures in action. The foul magical creatures, he noted, would prove tough for regular human soldiers. Of course, they wouldn’t be fighting regular humans, either…

The man, Falkenreith, his ice blue eyes fixated on the Asian black key wheedler, watching him in action, his helmet cam transmitting everything he saw to HOSA and Foley.
“Are you receiving?” He asked over the cracks of gunshots and the screams of the dying, wincing as a stray shot nearly hit him.
“Yes,” the deep voice of the Emperor responded, who’s computers were already at work calculating the optimal strategy to kill Wang and take his key “be advised to do what you can to help those Leaguists. Keep that party pinned and unable to move, especially that man. He has what we seek.”
Falkenreith looked from the few human attackers that remained to the various creatures that made up the adventuring party.
“You expect me to do all this by myself!?”
On his transport, as his hazel eyes scanned his various crimson guard droids, the emperor smirked.
“Who said you’d be alone?”

Before the man could respond, frightened civilians pointed to the sky as the whining of jet engines signaled the arrival of Columbian Hunter VTOLs, three large gunships armed with the latest in missiles and energy weapons. A higher pitched whine was heard before the three black beasts began to spew violet lasers at the building the adventures were holed up in. Falkenreith’s helmet gave an update that now the gunships were under his command. He looked at Wang.
“Kill him!” The HOSA Brüder ordered as he began to exfiltrate the temple, the sounds of laser fire and the scent burning brick and flesh accompanying him as he descended from the tower.
Last edited by New United States of Columbia on Sat Jul 02, 2022 4:59 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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The Harbingers of Chaos
Secretary
 
Posts: 28
Founded: Jun 03, 2022
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Harbingers of Chaos » Sun Jul 03, 2022 3:37 pm

The Market

At first there was silence as the first bullets tore into the crowd before confusion set in among the cultists. Who were these gunmen? Were they from a rival warband? Were they to join in the assault? Before these questions could be answered for the majority of the contingent some of the more rabid soldiers took to arms ready to sate their bloodlust and please the gods with the slaughter they would inflict. Knives and hammers were drawn from pockets, easily concealable weapons to suit the secret nature of their role, and they charged out into the heart of the market from the alleys screaming bloody murder. Man and woman alike were slashed into as they made their way into the madness with civilians often finding themselves unfortunate detours to the Sons of the Pantheon. As the first group of cultists charged other took note and followed in their wake wishing to avoid the ire of their Gods for cowardice. Soon enough almost the entirety of the hidden detachment came out cutting and slashing their way towards the holders of the Black Key. Some climbed onto the rooftops looking to cut down the one that seemed to have assembled this party and claim the key for themselves, others moved onto the streets running towards anyone they could get their eyes on, particular focus was put onto the ogre as they knew what dangerous foes they could be. Another contingent moved towards the tall woman holding the rifle hoping to cut her down and steal the weapon for themselves. Yet another squad went after the old man casting spells at the gunmen ready to beat him down.

From his hilltop vantage Ambrosius looked on with shock, he had not been watching for 5 minutes when armed gunmen came out from the rooftops and not even a minute after that a gunship baring lasers began firing into the crowd. "It's total madness out there! Quick, Voulo, we need to reorganize the men before it's too late!"

Just as he had begun running, Ambrosius was stopped by the oversized hands of the Master-Mage, "No, no, no. He says there's no point in that. He thinks it's best if we wait for their battle to end and then proceed." said Voulo, already nodding as if Ambrosius had already agreed with him.

"Bah! I don't have the time to listen to your mad rants! Unless Tzeentch himself is directing you, which I highly doubt, I'll be moving to get that key. Now if you'd excuse me, I must go. If your warp madness subsides before I'm done, I would appreciate your support." Ambrosius whipped around to make sure the old man wasn't going to stop him but...he was gone. Feeling the warp around him, Ambrosius could find nothing of the man that was just talking to him nearby. Instead, he could feel him down the hill and in the village.

"Damn you old man..." Ambrosius rushed his way down the hill to find what anarchy was afoot in the market below.




Voulo blended in with the rest of the chaos below lightly giggling to himself. The whispers that led him had told him all he needed to know and with his permission Voulo decided it would be best if he introduced some true chaos into this already chaotic situation. Raising his distended hands to the air, the winds of magic gathered about his fingers and the horn which laid at the top of his head as the purest forces of change assembled around him. In the sky above the channeled power of the God of Change tore open a hole in the fabric of reality for but a few moments as great balls of warp flame fell down upon the battle below striking all indiscriminately. The flames would have any number of effects on their victims, the lucky ones would burn, those who were less fortunate would find themselves mutated into mindless Chaos Spawn, some would even freeze, and many would experience any number of random ailments. Whatever the fate of his victims Voulo knew that Tzeentch would be pleased by the change brought about by his actions and so was he. Watching his spell from the alleyways Voulo released his mad laughter knowing he had just begun.

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Dyste
Minister
 
Posts: 2355
Founded: Mar 15, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Dyste » Sun Jul 03, 2022 5:57 pm

As the gunfire came raining down, Tyroth's eyes lit up, "Ah, it appears the welcoming party has arrived. The Human League, you say? Well, I suppose that now is a fine time for my proper entrance, my friends," as he grabbed the charm around his neck and removed it, the human form disappearing...

In its place was what appeared to be a bipedal dragon, with mostly black scales, his chest and stomach instead shining a bright gold; he stood about roughly around the same height as Bror, towering over most of the others. As the bullets fell towards him, he spewed a wave of frosty breath from his maw, stopping them in their tracks. "Did you really think you could stop the Adventurer-King with such paltry weapons!?" He spoke in a booming, commanding voice, "Greater men than you have tried and failed to vanquish me! None of you can stand up to the might of these great heroes, though you are more than welcome to try! I could certainly use the workout, GHAHAHA!"

As he spoke, it seemed he was not simply speaking to be boastful; a reddish aura surrounded him, and smaller ones surrounded his allies; as they moved, they would find their physical attributes - strength, agility, endurance and stamina - had been increased. It appeared the former king's ability required a form of incantation to work. From his cloak, he pulled out a chain flail, swinging it wildly before hitting the side of a spot a few gunman were hiding. The impact on the wall caused a tremor that took out the group. "No hiding from me, cowards!"

That said, things seemed to get more intense as the warp flames appeared, Tyroth shouting as a sonic blast blocked a flame from reaching him, "It seems we are dealing with a fair amount more than simple gunners, my friends; stay on your guard, and help as many as you can! We cannot give in to them no matter what they throw at us!"
Dyste: A nation of large, long-lived, magic-using dragon-people (Draconids) ruled by a legendary adventurer. Realism? What's that?
DRACONID AND A MEMBER OF THE MULTI-SPECIES UNION!
MEMBER OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF CLAWS AND FANGS
Embassy Program
Rulers: King Tyroth, Queen Sarisa, Prime Minister Zihark Jemson
Capital: Valitora
Government Type: Semi-Constitutional Monarchy
Population: 14,457,200, Draconid Majority (60%), Kobold/Dino/Elven/Pony/Human minorities
Founded: Early 15th century
Tech: Lower-tech fantasy (can RP with PT/MT)
Canadian, fan of Video Games (Nintendo in particular) and Tabletop RPGs.
I love RP'ing, but note my schedule can be iffy at times. If you want to RP with me, TG me and we can talk.

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Polish Prussian Commonwealth
Senator
 
Posts: 4691
Founded: Oct 30, 2018
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Polish Prussian Commonwealth » Mon Jul 04, 2022 4:36 am

OOC: Though this is mainly replying to the Rhythm Nation, Harbingers of Chaos, and Columbia, anyone can reply or jump off here.

The Harbingers of Chaos wrote:
The Market

At first there was silence as the first bullets tore into the crowd before confusion set in among the cultists. Who were these gunmen? Were they from a rival warband? Were they to join in the assault? Before these questions could be answered for the majority of the contingent some of the more rabid soldiers took to arms ready to sate their bloodlust and please the gods with the slaughter they would inflict. Knives and hammers were drawn from pockets, easily concealable weapons to suit the secret nature of their role, and they charged out into the heart of the market from the alleys screaming bloody murder. Man and woman alike were slashed into as they made their way into the madness with civilians often finding themselves unfortunate detours to the Sons of the Pantheon. As the first group of cultists charged other took note and followed in their wake wishing to avoid the ire of their Gods for cowardice. Soon enough almost the entirety of the hidden detachment came out cutting and slashing their way towards the holders of the Black Key. Some climbed onto the rooftops looking to cut down the one that seemed to have assembled this party and claim the key for themselves, others moved onto the streets running towards anyone they could get their eyes on, particular focus was put onto the ogre as they knew what dangerous foes they could be. Another contingent moved towards the tall woman holding the rifle hoping to cut her down and steal the weapon for themselves. Yet another squad went after the old man casting spells at the gunmen ready to beat him down.

From his hilltop vantage Ambrosius looked on with shock, he had not been watching for 5 minutes when armed gunmen came out from the rooftops and not even a minute after that a gunship baring lasers began firing into the crowd. "It's total madness out there! Quick, Voulo, we need to reorganize the men before it's too late!"

Just as he had begun running, Ambrosius was stopped by the oversized hands of the Master-Mage, "No, no, no. He says there's no point in that. He thinks it's best if we wait for their battle to end and then proceed." said Voulo, already nodding as if Ambrosius had already agreed with him.

"Bah! I don't have the time to listen to your mad rants! Unless Tzeentch himself is directing you, which I highly doubt, I'll be moving to get that key. Now if you'd excuse me, I must go. If your warp madness subsides before I'm done, I would appreciate your support." Ambrosius whipped around to make sure the old man wasn't going to stop him but...he was gone. Feeling the warp around him, Ambrosius could find nothing of the man that was just talking to him nearby. Instead, he could feel him down the hill and in the village.

"Damn you old man..." Ambrosius rushed his way down the hill to find what anarchy was afoot in the market below.




Voulo blended in with the rest of the chaos below lightly giggling to himself. The whispers that led him had told him all he needed to know and with his permission Voulo decided it would be best if he introduced some true chaos into this already chaotic situation. Raising his distended hands to the air, the winds of magic gathered about his fingers and the horn which laid at the top of his head as the purest forces of change assembled around him. In the sky above the channeled power of the God of Change tore open a hole in the fabric of reality for but a few moments as great balls of warp flame fell down upon the battle below striking all indiscriminately. The flames would have any number of effects on their victims, the lucky ones would burn, those who were less fortunate would find themselves mutated into mindless Chaos Spawn, some would even freeze, and many would experience any number of random ailments. Whatever the fate of his victims Voulo knew that Tzeentch would be pleased by the change brought about by his actions and so was he. Watching his spell from the alleyways Voulo released his mad laughter knowing he had just begun.


The Rhythm Nation wrote:In the distance, someone made a scraping sound, immediately followed by a cough. Wang Chung scanned the crowd, senses alert, searching for anything more out of place than the adventurers he’d summoned. Or…

Something too much in place. This marketplace was known to cater to exotic tastes and attracted a lot of foreigners (though most of them were human, or at least human passing), which is why Wang Chung had chosen it in the first place. So why did he recognize the faces of so many locals unless…

“Down!” he said as he saw the guns starting to come out. The marketplace erupted with automatic weapons fire, bullets and shrapnel spraying in every direction. He saw several of the adventurers moving to defend themselves, or in some cases the nearest innocent civilian. Good. They’ll have a chance to prove themselves early.

He tried to maintain situational awareness, wanting to see what his new friends were capable of, while he teleported onto the nearest rooftop. There were four armed men firing down from that roof… he reappeared inside the first one, splattering him all over the place on his way back out. The second one only got to turn halfway toward Wang Chung before the ninja had snapped his neck. Leaping past the falling body, he dispatched the next man with a flying spin kick that sent him over the edge with a familiar sounding scream. The fourth man got some shots off. Wang Chung deflected the first one with his sword, then summoned a Planeswalker portal to suck the others into. Advancing on his final opponent, he grew the portal ever closer to him… until he was sucked in after his bullets. The plane he had been sent to was not a hospitable one… he was eaten within three minutes.



New United States of Columbia wrote:As the fight was going on between the adventuring party and the “Human League” attackers, they were all being watched by a Teutonic looking man. He sought cover in one of the temples near the market place, using it as a vantage point to watch the fight unfolding, taking many mental notes as he watched the adventures in action. The foul magical creatures, he noted, would prove tough for regular human soldiers. Of course, they wouldn’t be fighting regular humans, either…

The man, Falkenreith, his ice blue eyes fixated on the Asian black key wheedler, watching him in action, his helmet cam transmitting everything he saw to HOSA and Foley.
“Are you receiving?” He asked over the cracks of gunshots and the screams of the dying, wincing as a stray shot nearly hit him.
“Yes,” the deep voice of the Emperor responded, who’s computers were already at work calculating the optimal strategy to kill Wang and take his key “be advised to do what you can to help those Leaguists. Keep that party pinned and unable to move, especially that man. He has what we seek.”
Falkenreith looked from the few human attackers that remained to the various creatures that made up the adventuring party.
“You expect me to do all this by myself!?”
On his transport, as his hazel eyes scanned his various crimson guard droids, the emperor smirked.
“Who said you’d be alone?”

Before the man could respond, frightened civilians pointed to the sky as the whining of jet engines signaled the arrival of Columbian Hunter VTOLs, three large gunships armed with the latest in missiles and energy weapons. A higher pitched whine was heard before the three black beasts began to spew violet lasers at the building the adventures were holed up in. Falkenreith’s helmet gave an update that now the gunships were under his command. He looked at Wang.
“Kill him!” The HOSA Brüder ordered as he began to exfiltrate the temple, the sounds of laser fire and the scent burning brick and flesh accompanying him as he descended from the tower.


Okręt Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej Rota

Rota barely had time to properly size up her fellows or reply to greetings when all hell broke loose. Am ambush -- gunfire, airstrikes, horror and bloody woe -- this was something she could deal with, easily.

With a practiced ease she unslung her rifle and mounted it's bayonet, before moving in to cover Wang's flank. Bullets flew, snapping past her head. A few struck her helmet or were halted by her armor -- but they never quite hit her, and that was all that mattered. She could take the hit, sure, but recovery would be...inconvenient.

As Wang did his work and her new party-mates brought whatever toys or powers they had to bear, Rota opened fire, with her rifle hitting far harder than any rifle should have any right to. One by one she picked off attacker after attacker, be they insurgent or chaos cultist, with each round leaving gaping holes in their chest or head. Besides the crack of her rifle and the sharp cling of it's bolt being worked, and more occasionally a grunt of exertion as she gored a too-close attacker with a bayonet-thrust, however, Wang would hear nothing from her, save the occasional shouted warning as gunship, blade, or bullet headed his way.

Rota, however, was not silent. As she fought, the noosphere pulsed, warped, and bent to her command -- so much so that someone magically-inclined could pick up on it -- strengthening a link that lead some distance away, across the waters, to where her true form lay -- a warship, yet moreso; one far more resilient and powerful than what any attacker might expect from an old light cruiser laid down in the 1930s.

It was instinct that warned the crew -- a prickling feeling the crew had long learned to associate with a warning from their ship-spirit -- so even as the air-search radar locked in on the gunships, the cruiser had already gone to battle stations. Men raced about, manning the 6" and 5" dual-purpose naval artillery, fire control stations for batteries of quadruple-40mms, or individual mounts of dual 20mm Oerlikons. The sky soon filled with huge explosions and deadly shrapnel aimed at the gunships, with each round -- like Rota's rifle-bullets -- being fired with frightening accuracy and power, far beyond what their seemingly-outdated appearance would suggest.
Last edited by Polish Prussian Commonwealth on Mon Jul 04, 2022 4:54 am, edited 6 times in total.
"Furthermore, I submit that Carthage NSG must be destroyed."
-Marcus Porcius Cato

A traumatized, but recovering, MT-PMT constitutional monarchy consisting of a personal union of Prussia and Poland. A land of rampant gun ownership, governmental schizophrenia, militias with enough heavy weapons to turn an armored division into a badly-shaken battalion of light infantry, and terrified USAF personnel counting down the days until they rotate back home.


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Vietstalia
Secretary
 
Posts: 28
Founded: Nov 20, 2021
Corporate Police State

Postby Vietstalia » Mon Jul 04, 2022 6:18 pm

Gunfire, a sure sign of conflict. The Skaven were ready. They always seemed to be ready. I suppose it is natural when millions of eyes are in any one place. As the soldier wasted time fighting above, the Skaven had a better idea. Why engage powerful heroes, when the civilians were ripe for the picking. Several teams of slaves, driving arcane machines powered by raw magic stones know as warpstone, or wyrdstone to the ignorant humans, drilled though the fairground, casting up mounts of rubble. teams of Gutter runners, commanded by the Plague Priest Grilitch, snatched up men, women and children. Some would be slaves sent to hard labor, others deemed useless would be consumed. Still worse fates awaited for a chosen few, be it experiments or other purposes. "Go forth, kill-slay all who reist. Snatch and steal all you can see-find. Move quick-faster or I shall rupture you all," the Seer shrieked in a strange mix of anger and glee.

The rodents poured out of the ground. Men tried to pull out their weapons but they were cut down too fast, and even when they killed one assailant 10 more took it's place. Booths looted with their owners bound in chains, women were snatched up and their babes hurled to the ground. The were given no rest, the Skaven falling upon and eating them, only to be trampled by their own companions, providing more food, for the rats saw no harm in cannibalizing their own brethren. The rats would have given no remorse even if they had any, the only place for a soft rat was in a stew. The Skaven started by assaulting the outer edges of the bazar, but began to work inwards, staying as far from the fighting as possible, but also cutting off escape, turning would be refugees into miserable slaves.

However, the attitude of the Skaven would change upon seeing the Tzeenchian magic. Unwilling to be bested by this wizard, the Skaven rolled forth a hideous contraption. part train and part tunnel worm in appearance. It climbed out of where a drill had been. Oozing out a hideous green substance, the machine rumbled forward, crushing those in it's path, its ooze finishing those its cruel wheel didn't smash. But that was not the purpose of the vehicle. It's true purpose was made immediately clear when out belched a tremendous pillar of green. Warpfire, a foul substance hellish in nature. It melted the flesh of those it made contact with, in a most horrible and painful manner. Those not immediately killed would have their minds shattered and their flesh twisted, some killing themselves to end their own madness, others turning on their former companions as they began to decompose into shambling messes. Even those operating the machine were not safe, the nuzzles spewing out fumes that melted the flesh and even bones of the Skavenslaves pushing the machine. yet the masters did not care, more would simply be ordered to push, stepping carefully over the maimed bodies of their brethren so as to not accidentally step in the substance themselves and be consumed by it. The warpfire issues over the market, not caring who it hit, melting the smallest of children to heavily armed and armored men alike, the wicked magic going right through the protections men tried to muster. And to destroy the machine was above those who were normal, even approaching it from the sides smelled a nearly certain and grisly doom.

Grilitich laughed manically at the reports he received. There was little he loved more than the smell of flesh melting, and hearing the horrified screams of those who were dying, before their throats were reduced to mush. It was so much more satisfying then when it was merely slaves and dumb beasts being fired on in the testing chambers. He would have to thank the Warlock Engineers, and maybe even get a few more of their devilish machine, though perhaps of different varieties, as the saying goes the more ways a rat can skin a cat the more fun he can have with it, something which the rat men take very literally, supporting the true rats in their wars against felines.
PRAISE THE GREAT HORNED RAT | Vietstalia | Warhammer Fantasy best Warhammer | WE ARE IN YOUR WALLS NO-FUR
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Kingdom of Bornai
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 157
Founded: May 17, 2022
New York Times Democracy

Postby Kingdom of Bornai » Tue Jul 05, 2022 6:36 am

Croissant feels something similar to that of a spirit, then he saw that not so far away in the sky blacksmoke keeps blowing up near something that looks like an gunship. He only looks for a split second before realizing he is surround by people who looks like cultists. There's a brief pause before he speaks "You ignorant people! Pay for trying to besiege me!" and a red circle with ancient Bornaian appears glowing on his hands before blood seeps out from the cultist killing them and becomes a giant ball of blood floating above Croissant.

He looks around and see many citizens still there either dead or are heavily injured on the verge of death's door. He cast another spell and threads of blood comes out of the blood ball, going to the citizens and healing them while also revivng those who just died and still have a fairly intact body. He cast yet another spell, this time a teleportation spell to relocate the living and just-revived citizens outside of the danger zone, as far as possible. The blood orb however, are almost gone with only the size of a tennis ball. Croissant realized that the blood orb are perfectly enough to summon a low-ranked mythical being and uses it to summon one.

A wolf the size of small car appears, it has similar appereance of Fenrir yet it is small compared to it, no doubt it has the bloodline of one but only a small part. Croissant quickly commanded the wolf to attack the remaining gunmens before flying into the sky and cast a searching spell trying to find the one who called him here, Wang Chung.
Last edited by Kingdom of Bornai on Tue Jul 05, 2022 6:37 am, edited 2 times in total.
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New United States of Columbia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1256
Founded: Jul 17, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby New United States of Columbia » Tue Jul 05, 2022 4:49 pm

As the hellish war zone that was once a bustling marketplace unfolded, Falkenreith was running for his life. Whilst normally he’d be doing what he could to keep an eye on Wang and ensure the automated gunships fulfilled their task, right now, everything was not remotely close to normal. Firefights he could handle. Magic beasts, those were fine. Demonic cultists opening seemingly a portal to hell while tunneling beasts devoured humans still kicking and screaming… that was more than he could bargain with. Doing everything he could to avoid having one of those Chaos fireballs crash near him, he sprinted in his armor towards the edge of the coastal village, watching as a warship from the 1930s began to fire at the gunships with inhuman accuracy, striking the rear engines and causing the great behemoths to come spiraling to the ground in fiery crashes. Either more magic was responsible for this or some other power also had AI’s as good as the Order’s…

“Falkenreith, what is going on!?” Foley roared into his microphone as he could hear the hell unfolding on the HOSA operative’s end. His eyes scanned the droids before and besides him as they checked their weapons. The long, sleek, grey transport was about to touch down in the center of the town and the Emperor was expecting updates on Wang Chuan.
“Your Imperial Majesty, I suggest turning back and awaiting the arrival and unloading of the second Leviathan. Right now there is absolute hell in this village and too many magic beasts running amuck. You’ll need at least several platoons of infantry husks and a dozen Black Widow batteries to ensure victory.”
The Emperor seemed unfazed by this. He calmly closed the comlink and looked to the scarlet robots that shined under the dim lighting inside the transport. As much as he preferred how powerful, robust, and intimidating his new guard was, and as much as he believed cybernetic and robotic enhancement was the key to domination and ensuring Columbia would never again be humiliated by the foreign hordes, he missed how personable his old guards were. The droids looked up at him as he stood up, as the dropships began to experience turbulence, shaking slightly.
“Be advised, LZ is hot! Expect very heavy resistance, Your Grace!”
The walking war waging supercomputer didn’t respond, eyes fixated on the ramp.

The large aeroship wasn’t very hard to spot, considering it hovered on a rooftop. As the ramp whirred downwards, the andoird guards stood up from their seats and quickly formed a neat rank behind their Emperor. Two of the guards, carrying large plasma cannons, got in front of Foley, annoying him somewhat, before he returned to his primary objective: Kill or Capture Wang Chuan and get his black key. Stepping out onto the flat roof, the enhanced eyes of Paul Foley took in many sights. The Skaven’s slaughter, the Chaos forces hard at work bringing Hell to Earth, and the various heroes summoned by Wang to help him find these other keys. While the other heroes didn’t particularly interest the golden armored cyborg, his eyes fell upon one. As soon as he saw him, the beast began to snarl.
“Tyroth…” He hissed as he began to unsheathe his blade, about to activate it’s plasma dispenser to give it the appearance of being on fire, when he heard Froscht, with his usual tone of irritation, pipe in over his helmet comlink:
“Your Imperial Highness, I know how much you wish to see these vermin put in their place before their rightful human superiors, but you’ll have to stave that idea off. We have lost the gunships which last sighted HVT near the central marketplace. He should theoretically be several rooftops from you. I’ve got several more transports carrying infantry and gunships on the way to assist you.”
Foley nodded before he turned to his platoon of guards. He then pointed towards one of the rooftops around the market.
“This way!”

One of the guards stepped forward, looking across at the next building. It took several steps back and dashed forward at a dizzying speed before gracefully leaping off the edge. Right as it looked like it’d strike a perfect landing:
CRASH!
The bot proceeded to fall right through the roof, causing an even larger crash on the floor below as parts of the roof caved in with it. As the dust began to settle, the golden armored giant turned and watch his other guards begin to recalibrate their chances of successfully crossing the rooftops. Then the second bot holster it’s weapon across it’s back and jumped, this time grabbing the ledge and crashing it’s feet into the red brick wall, and climbed up. Deciding this was the optimal way to get across, Foley and the other robots followed it’s example and soon they were all gathered on the next roof, with the first bot jumping up out of the home it made, caught by another, and gently placed on the remaining ground. This continued for several more rooftops before it appeared the platoon plus one were in sight of Wang. Foley activated his sword, his guards raising their weapons, and the Emperor boomed out:
“Wang! I’d suggest you come nicely with us. My Masters and I are eager to hear more of these black keys you have in your possession. If you do, your family and countrymen will be spared. If not, well, I wouldn’t think too hard on what would happen if this,” he bellowed as he gestured to his flaming sword “or this,” then gesturing to a glowing plasma cannon one of his guards carried “were to be used on the frail human body…”
Last edited by New United States of Columbia on Tue Jul 05, 2022 6:48 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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