#every war machine team needs a walking fortress

[silveme]

Waking the Giant

[helis97]

TFA: CyL? _ Finale

I think it’s about time that I close this unfinished project that I so unfortunately lost the will to continue. The reasons why I can no longer continue this project is listed at the end of the synopsis of how the story is supposed to end.

From personal experiences I know that being left with an incomplete comic/story is rather annoying, especially because you might want to know “What happens to the characters? What happens to the story?”

So I have collected the courage to write down HOW THE STORY WOULD HAVE GONE immediately after the appearance of Tarn!

(A little disclaimer: English is not my first language, I make a lot of typing errors and, while I did my best, I’m really not used to write complicated text in English so there’s probably plenty of errors in here. If you find them you are very welcome to notice me and I’ll be happy to add the needed corrections.)

We are left here with Tarn, Strika, Sockwave and Red Alert in the control room of Sentinel’s space ship. -> www.deviantart.com/elis97/art/…

Shockwave cleverly pretends that Red Alert is an Autobot who have defected and that is now on the Decepticon’s side. Red Alert plays along with Shockwave’s lies and Tarn puts her down.

While Shockwave is trying to find a good excuse to leave the spaceship with Red Alert, Waspinator makes his entrance with Jetfire and Jetstorm captive.

Tarn wants to kill them, but Red Alert is able to save the twins by telling the Decepticons that the two were implemented with the unique flight mode ability that only the Decepticons posses, making them very close to an actual Decepticon.

This convinces Strika to pick a side and claim the young boys also adding that it would be nice to have youngsters around again (as almost all Decepticons are now very old).

Tarn is suspicious thought, and asks Red Alert to tell him where the AllSpark is being kept on the ship, which surprises Shockwave to a whole new level.

Red Alert with a perfect poker-face tells him that she was not made aware of the presence of the AllSpark and that she was surprised as well when Sentinel, in order to scare away the Decepticons, told them that he had it and was going to use it.

Tarn gets way too close to Red and Shockwave puts himself between the two trying to calm his friend down, only to realize that, despite having known Tarn since he was Glitch, the but he now sees is a chilling monster.

In the end Waspinator convinces Tarn that it would be quicker to hunt down Sentinel rather than wasting time with them.

The scene changes to the infirmary of the spaceship with Red Alert trying to take care of the jet-twins that are now accusing her to be a traitor like Shockwave.

Shokwave asks her if the AllSpark is actually aboard the ship, Red simply tells him that while she is not sure, the Sentinel could be that stupid.

Shockwave beliving to be able to convert the doctor to his faction, turns into Longarm and thanks Red for letting him go thus giving him a chance to live further his life.

Red Alert jams a bestiary in Longarm’s aye that makes him scream and quickly turn into his real form.

Red Alert is furious, screaming at Shockwave to have some respect for her and stop mocking her.

To Shockwave’s pain, confusion and horror, Red Alert’s eyes turn purple.

A Tarn shaped shadow gets closer to the infirmary door.

Shockwave scared to ask Red Alert if the purple eyes are a result of the truth about Longarm’s identity, but she starts laughing.

Red tells Shockwave that she got the purple eyes during the war against the Decepticons, so many years ago. During a time where she believed she could make a difference, use her abilities to save as many lives as possible, she quickly realised that she was forced to put down way more bots that she was actually saving. That horrible realization, the feeling to be helpless and sacrificable (because all cogs in the big Autobots machines are replaceable like actual charges are) made her desperate, insanely desperate.

Because Cybertron doesn’t have an institution for mental help and support, she was unable to ”heal” from the stress and the trauma of the war and the purple eyes cronicised; all she could do was hitting them with medicines and, sometimes, electronic-paint.

Shockwave realises how much damaged Red Alert actually is as he starts feeling guilty. He tries to hug Red to comfort her, but she back away right into Tarn’s arms.

Shockwave stops dead in terror as he fears that Tarn might have realized the truth about the Autobot, but Tarn is thinking something completely different.

Tarn cuddles and comforts a very freaked out Red Alert, revealing to her that he as well was left scarred and insane by the Autobots and the Decepticons’ war.

He asks with sweet, but insanely purple eyes if she doesn’t have a good idea of where the Allspark might be. Shockwave tries to talk to Tarn but is struck by a kick from the giant Decepticon. Wasp quickly comes by and immobilize Shockwave on the ground. Asking for help is useless, because everyone else is away looking for Sentinel.

Red Alert asks Tarn what he intends to do once he gets to the AllSpark. A soft look from the murderous boy accompanies his words, he wants to kill every Cybertronian in the galaxy, and will use the AllSpark to do so in one single big strike.

Red Alert looks at Shockwave and tells Tarn that the Allspark is in the hangar.

Red Alert and Tarn are walking tours the hangar with Shockwave and Waspinator behind them. Shockwvae tries to talk Tarn out of his madness, but he warns him to shut up or his vocal box will be removed.

Red Alert gently asks Tarn how he will deal with the other Decepticons as they discover what he’s trying to do, but Tarn is not worried, as soon as he gets the Allspark it will be over. That gives Shokwave an idea: opening a transmission between himself and the other Decepticons aboard the ship, he hopes that Tarn will say something that will make Strika and the rest of the team to realize what is going on.

Red Alert continues her conversation with Tarn who starts telling her the story of how he lost his sanity during “The battle of Kaon”, a battle against the Autobots. He explains that all the Decepticons forces were holding their ground inside the fortress of Kaon, trying to fend off the Autobots from entering inside. They were using energy cannons that were running out of steam.

Since the cannons were taking power from a main furnace Megatron ordered to throw inside every scrap of Energon in order to keep them running. Tarn tell that he and Lugnut were in charge of keeping the furnace lit, but when every last battery of Energon finished Megatron ordered the wounded Decepticons to be thrown in.

Tarn didn’t want to do it, but Megatron made it clear that if had he refused the order he was going to be thrown inside as well.

After every single screaming wounded Decepticon was tossed inside the furnace the attack was not over, and so Megatron ordered Tarn e Lugnut to get the weakest Decepticons and use them as well.

For every single soul that got devoured by the flames Tarn lost a bit of his mind, for every time Lugnut precede the death of his comrades as the greatest honor of all, Tarn had to stop himself from screaming in agony.

Shockwave listen in horror and remembers that durung that faitfull day he was at the command of one of the cannons that keept shooting away the Autobots. Deep down, he knew what had appened to those missing decepticons that day, but refused to actually believe at his own tought.

To the other corner of the transmition Strika starts sobbing incapable to believa that his Lugnut could have been part of something so heinous.

After that Tarn continuously revisited that event in his dreams. Endless nightmares of him jamming bolts into the furnace, unable to free himself from the nightmares he became addicted to that horror. Incapable to put his mind to rest, he started to feel the urge to kill.

Tarn is sure that Red Alert can understand how he feels and that’s why he will let her live after having turned her into something similar to Waspinator, as by doing so she will not be hurt by his attack.

Not receiving feedbacks from the other Decepticons aboard the ship, Shockwave is close to panic now that he’s aware of how far Tarn is willing to go, but a glance from Red Alert makes him realise that she has something in mind.

Red Alert tells Tarn that, if she was hesitant to follow his plan at the beginning, she now realises that there is no saving for her specie, that even the younger generation will be corrupted and destined to suffer, so, now that they are in the hangar, the AllSpark is in that box, near the hatch opening.

As Tarn approaches the point with blood thirsty eyes Shockwave realises the plan and with a martial art like move, takes by surprise Waspinator and makes a run for the controls of the opening of the hatches.

Tarn realizes the trick a second too late and the doors opens.

The wasp is blown away immediately as Shockwave grabs onto something to avoid the same end.

He quickly starch out an arm to Red Alert, but not before Tarn is able to catch her free arm.

As Red Alert realizes that Tarn is not going out that easily, she gives a last look at Shockwave who begs her not to do it. Before Tarn is able to get a better hold she lets go of Shockwave’s hand and jams a syringe in Tarn’s arm. They both disappear out of the hangar.

As Shockwave is slowly loosing his grip, Oil Slick has arrived just in time to shut the hatches close.

The two rush to the control room of the spaceship, meeting along the way the rest of the Decepticons that had rushed to help them.

Shockwave directs the ship towards the direction where Red Alert was blown away, saying that Red Alert probably injected the fake death zero into the Tarn and that she’s probably unhurt because the zero takes effect in seconds. Oil Slick grudgingly tells him that a second is more than enough for Tarns to kill someone.

As the headlights find the targets the horror takes shape.

Tarn is frozen and gray, with eyes glaring at the void, her head in his fist, surrounded by spilling Energon that floats around them in a macabre dance.

Shockwave falls on the ground, unable to lie to himself anymore.

The story moves forward a year and several months later, Shockwave is laying on a bed. He talks about when he and Oil Slick got inside Red Alert’s body that, while still had its colors on, the head was squished to a point that the facial features were no longer recognizable. Had he been able to warn her that the other Decepticons were coming to the rescue, maybe things would have gone differently.

His invisible interlocutor answers him that, despite everything, Red Alert still survived even if her memories and a good portion of her personality were wiped away.

He jokes about the fact that the AllSpark was never aboard the ship, but the Sentinel was arrested for violating major protocols, putting in danger his crew and causing the death of Safetrap. -> www.deviantart.com/elis97/art/…

Shockwave becomes sad again, saying that while he’s no longer hurting so much he still wishes thatsRed could remember the good times they had together. While the interactions between Autobots and Decepticons have improved, he still feels lonely and lone like when he was undercover as Longarm.

After a minute of silence the voice reminds him that he’s not lonely and that he will go for a walk with his friend that evening.

The voice reassures Shockwave that every person need his own time to cope with traumatic events and that, despite how he feels, he’s doing a good job.

The session reaches its conclusion and Shockwave says goodbye to his therapist, a tiny human with round glasses.

On his way out a guard checks Shockwave’s documents and, reading that has been authorized to leave the asylum for the evening, lets him out. Oil Slick is waiting for him and happily greets him.

As they walk in the street of Cybertron Oil Slick asks Shockwave how he’s been doing, but Shockwave is quick to change the subject and asks instead how he and his team are doing now that they are back on Cybertron.

Oil Slick tells him that after the accident with Tarn, Strika was furious and wanted to hear the truth about The battle of Kaon from Lugnut and flew the Autobot ship back on Cybertron. He and the rest of the team weren’t allowed to go inside the prison, but Strika went in escorted by Optimus Prime and got her confirmation from Lugnut him. When she got out she was heartbroken and struck a truce with Optimus Prime. From then on there were lots of commotion between the Decepticons lines, some wanted to return to Cybertron and were positive about the new leadership of Optimus Prime, some others weren’t happy and riots rose in all Decepticon’s outposts.

The two get in line to enter into an amusement park, guards at the entrance are making sure that no weapons are introduced inside.

Oil Slick asks Shockwave if he feels weird about the fact that a human was put in charge of his reformation.

His friend answers that it’s called therapy, not reformation, and that since it never existed on Cybertron a system to give boys psychological support, it was only logical to call a species more expert in the field.

Suddenly a familiar voice captures Shockwave’s attention.

A peculiar femmebot is talking to the her friends about the many things that the new Magnus, Optimus Prime is putting in action: amusement parks, innovative distributions of powers, unheard institution were tiny aliens take care of bots with problems, inviting other species to visit Cybertron…

Altought she no longer looks the same, Shockwave recongises Redalert’s voice and way of talking.

He spies her talking some meters in front of them, she’s with Arcee, Ratchet and Ironhide. She looks happy, carefree, full of life.

Oil Slick seems to understand the situation and asks his friend if he wants to go to talk to her, but Shockwave refuses.

At the entrance of the amusement park the guards look at Shockwave with suspicious, asking for his documents again. Not finding anything wrong, they let him in.

Shockwave tells his friend that Red Alert got her memory wiped away and, as a result, the purple eyes disappeared an she became a happier but, he doesn’t want to be part of her new life, not yet and maybe not ever again.

Oil SLick notices that Shockwave’s eye is now purple and realises why he was housed in a mental asylum rather that in a prison. He asks him if Redalert was the reason he got purple eye.

While departing from the rest of the crowd, Shockwave reveals to his friend that after the accident with Tarn he chose to personally bring both Red Alert and Tarn to the hospital, fearing that the Autobots would have been too incompetent to help them without his lead.

As a result, he got arrested and sent to prison. The voice of him being affiliated to an Autobot and a traitor spreads truth the prison, and from that moment, every single Decepticon inside the prison started hating on him.

Oil Slick incredulous asks why Megatron didn’t take his side, considering that he was his most loyal servant.

The fact is that Strika’s intervention put in a bad light Megatron’s leadership. When Shockwave tried to explain to his leader the whole story, Megatron directed his follower’s attention away from his own horrible actions and focussed them over the fact that Shockwave wasn’t able to keep vital information away from the Autobots. So while not directly calling him a traitor he was still accused of such.

Similar to Wasp, after months of being lonely, hated, humiliated and ignored when trying to explain himself, Shockwave developed purple eye. But unlike what had happened to Wasp, Optimus ordered his displacement and had an expert take care of his condition before the purple eye becomes chronic.

Because of this Shockwave is in debt with the Autobots and believes that, leaving Red Aler alone, is a way to pay back the Autobots.

Oil Slick has a different way to see the thing, in his opinion, it’s the Autobots that are paying back Shockwave for having him tortured by Lockdown.

Shockwave doesn’t answer, instead looks back at a now very far away Red Alert.

Turning back again, he tells Oil Slick that he will never forget his gesture of friendship. Oil Slick smiles then, pointing to a stall with his finger, tells Shockwave he hadn’t had cotton-Energon since he was a sparkling. Shockwave giggles saying that he as well, hasn’t had cotton-Energon in a long time.

Red Alert turns her head around to see Shockwave and Oil Slick having cotton-Energon, she smiles tenderly, then returns her attention to her friends.

                           -----------------------------------------------

Now that the story was told I would like to take a moment to simply talk about why I could no longer continue the comic. There are a couple of reasons, one of them is the amount of time that would have taken to finish the bloody thing! And I swear to you that I tried my best to keep it at its bare essential exactly for the fear of it becoming too long.

Another reason is that I didn’t enjoy drawing the characters. As surprising as it might be, I started this project believing that once familiar with the design I would have been able to draw them with ease, which didn't happen. Aside from Shockwave I don’t particularly enjoy drawing TFA style and I bloody hate to color the character because I was always feeling bored and frustrated every time I forgot a particular. That created some major inconsistency in the pages. (and yes, that bothers me a lot)

I believe that the most important reason that prevented me to finish the opera as I wanted is the fact that this story kept changing every time! Aside from the first Chapter the rest kept evolving, changing direction, changing the ending and I was never happy. In the end the biggest problem was simple: I just couldn’t make a happy ending. I really wanted Red Alert and Shockwave to be together, but I simply couldn’t do it, no matter how much I kept changing the story I was never able to make it work, and I have only myself to blame.

In the end, I could never finish the story because I never knew how it was supposed to end, and I passed so much time in between that I simply grow interested in other things, other fandoms, other stories in general.

Life in general was also in the way… as always.

Anyway, while I will never be able to put this story in comic pages I’m happy to be able to tell you how I decided to end it. I am very thankful to all the people who follow the story and left a nice comment under every page and for those people I’m truly sad that I was unable to deliver the whole story in comic format.

Since I know many things were left out in this synopsis, if you have any questions or clarifications, feel free to ask me and I will do my best to answer it.

[fancytrinkets]

WIP Wednesday – Adamant

Pairing: Trevelyan/Dorian A conversation between Trevelyan and Cullen on the eve of storming the castle fortress.

Galen Trevelyan walks through camp and feels as though a thousand eyes are watching him — which might be true, depending on how many Inquisition soldiers have arrived here, not far from Adamant Fortress. There could be five hundred? He isn't sure. But he's never seen most of these soldiers before. He’s aware that heads are turning and whispers rising up from every group he passes. It feels bizarre to be recognized by so many strangers. 

At last, among them, he spots the familiar face he's looking for. Near one of the trebuchets, Cullen stands with his arms crossed. He's listening to one of his officers, who gestures as he speaks, pointing first at the trebuchet, then off to the north, in the direction of the fortress. Adamant can't be seen beyond the dunes and rock formations that shelter their camp from view. But Galen can feel its presence, heavy and ominous. Could it be the magic he senses — the terrible magic of blood and killing from Erimond and the Grey Warden mages? Could it be that their rituals are starting? They’re far enough away that he can’t know for certain, but if the magic is strong enough, it might be the cause of that unsettled feeling — a subtle frisson of mana within him when it ought to be still and quiet.

Galen waits for the officer to finish the conversation, leaving Cullen alone by the trebuchet.

"Inquisitor," Cullen says, deploying the formal greeting.

"Commander," Galen says. "Any change of plan?"

"No," Cullen says. "We'll proceed on schedule. Position the trebuchets under cover of darkness and begin the assault at first light. I trust your team is ready?"

"More anxious than usual, but ready."

Galen's spent the day with all of them. Talking, listening, sitting together for meals, and simply being present.

"Yes.” Cullen nods. “I think that's the general mood."

Galen turns away for a moment to survey the sprawling camp with its tents and soldiers, fires pits and kettles, war machines, and the draught horses ready to pull them. 

Cullen calls his attention back with a simple question. 

"Is there something you need?"

"Honestly?” Galen says. “I just wanted to say thank you. You've been working tirelessly all these long months, ever since Haven. You've built up an army and that's impressive, despite that I wish we didn't need one."

Cullen sighs. "I can't know the Maker's will. But I believe we'll succeed tomorrow. I have to believe it."

"Feels daunting, though."

"That it does."

"At least with Haven, it was all a surprise,” Galen says. “All we could do was act quickly, no time for second-guessing.”

Cullen laughs, though it’s little more than a burst of air, a disbelieving little chuckle. 

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“I'm better at that, I think,” Galen says. “I always feel calm in the middle of a crisis. I can see the next thing and then do it. But this... well, it's different. A whole night left wide open for deliberating and worrying about choices. It makes me nervous."

"Myself, I enjoy the readiness and the planning,” Cullen says. “I find it almost prayerful, if you can imagine."

"We all need something that anchors us, I suppose."

"That we do." Cullen shakes his head, amused and disbelieving. "Besides, it's my job to stay up all night deliberating and worrying. You're supposed to get some rest and recharge your mana. We've got a tent made up for the Inquisitor's personal use. Very private, no disturbances, for whatever you need."

Galen laughs. "Really? That's new."

"It's actually not; it's customary. The soldiers will expect their leader to have his own private quarters in the field."

"Oh. Well, I'm not used to it."

"Yes, I know. Vivienne, Cassandra, and Dorian have all mentioned to me — on separate occasions, mind you — that you're rather low maintenance when you're out in the field. Of the three of them, I believe only Cassandra meant it as a compliment."

"Sounds accurate,” Galen says, amused to hear it. “Now where is this private, restful Inquisitor's tent?"

"Near the command tent past the third trebuchet. Shall I send Dorian your way if I see him?"

Galen grins at that. His advisors all know him too well. Trevelyan the hedonist — or so he’s been called.

"Oh, yes, please do," he says.

Tomorrow will come soon enough, full of pain and exhaustion as they fight against blood magic and demons and whatever else Erimond and the Wardens can throw at them. But tonight, with a private tent and Dorian for company, he’ll enjoy the distraction. 

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Excuse me! But where is my Sanders Sides Gamer AU???

Voices in my head: Gee Bunny, it seems you have no problem writing a lot of other fics and stuff yet you still haven’t even finished the next chapter of your Spiderverse fic???

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP DISEMBODIED VOICES IN MY HEAD!!! IF YOU WANT THAT FIC DONE SO BADLY TELL MY LOGIC AND CREATIVITY TO GET THEIR ASSES IN GEAR AND GIVE ME SOME GOD DAMN INSPIRATION!!!!

Voices in my head:.....

Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought! Anyways, idk if I just missed a memo or something but I haven’t seen any Gamer AU of my boys and that is a crime in and of itself! Like, how dare! But fret not, I am here to provide content (Read: headcannons) that you did not ask for! Let us begin! Or should I say start!

(please note that I am not a gaming expert so feel free to add or correct stuff)

NOW WITH A PART 2!!!!

MAIN SQUAD

Roman Rosewood

Obviously loves RPGs! Anything with a good story line really! Or has medieval fantasy aesthetic!

Skyrim, Diablo, Undertale, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Fallout, Red Dead Redemption, Undertales, Dragon Age, God of War Dark Souls, Assassins Creed, Earthbound, etc.

Played West of Loathing just so he could rip on it but actually ended up loving it and spending way to many hours playing. Then he found out there was a game called Kingdom of Loathing by the same creators and went down that rabbit hole as well.

He was iffy about getting into JRPGs but then Virgil convinced him to play Persona 5 and he absolutely fell in love with the music!

All the music in his phone is either from musicals or Video games!

Also really likes choose your own adventure games like Detroit: Become Human, Life is Strange, and Telltale Games

So much video game merch! Usually figurines because he likes to make little shelves and display cases for them.

He also really likes multiplayer games because he’s a social butterfly and likes to play with his squad.

Sucks at first person shooter games but still willingly plays Fortnight or Call of Duty or Left for Dead with his friends because he doesn’t want to be a drag and complain. But also they sometimes die in game in the most hilarious ways and it just leaves everybody wheezing.

Virgil Dante

Horror games, obvs!

All about that dark aesthetic!

Devil May Cry, Silent Hill, Fran Bow, Sally Face, Resident Evil, The Witch’s House, Amnesia, Little Nightmares, Bendy and The Ink Machine, Alice: Madness Returns, SCP-Containment, Pony Island, etc.

Yes, he’s played all the Five Nights At Freddy’s games. It’s a good series and it isn’t his fault the fandom is bat shit crazy and full of ten year olds! Fuck you Roman!

Every time the Walking Dead comes out he knows he’ll end up crying by the end of it. He and the squad make and event out of it.

Japanese horror games are usually his favorite because they deal more with the psychological aspects of horror instead of the jump scares

So, yes, he’s also a fan of Corps Party and Fatal Frame

Also really good at first person shooters because he has a really steady hand (you usually have to when playing horror games least you want to restart the level) and it pisses Roman off to no end every time Virgil randomly headshots him.

Usually likes to by merch in the form of posters, t-shirts, or beanies. He only buys figurines if it’s a game he really, really likes.

At first didn’t know why people kept bugging him to play Doki Doki Literature Club but then he finally caved and...oh...that’s why.

Logan Mill

My boy loves puzzle and strategy games yo!

Legend of Zelda, Portal, Tetris, Unravel, World of Goo, Inside, Limbo, Pokemon, Shadow of the Colossus, StarCraft, Command and Conquer, Age of Empire, Heart of Iron, World of Warcraft, etc.

He likes Overwatch but doesn’t like playing with people online so he usual solos or asks the others to play. But that too usually ends in chaos.

Hates rage games because he gets frustrated easily and has broken at least four keyboards and two controllers

He still plays them anyways because he can beat it damn it! Just give him a minute!

Enjoys the God of War series despite all the mythological inaccuracies

He plays a lot of Minecraft to relax or destress and has build beautiful works of architecture and sometimes entire cities.

He thought it was stupid and childish and was embarrassed about it for a long time until the squad came over to his house one day uninvited and caught him playing. He was getting ready for them to make fun of him but they instead gushed about how AMAZING everything looked and how TALENTED he was for building all himself.

Logan ends up showing them how to play afterwards and they work together to make weird sculptures and complex tunnels underground.

He likes practical merch like backpacks, coffee mugs, pencil holders, notebooks, ect. as well as a few t-shirts and novelty ties.

Yes, he does collect Pokemon cards!

Patton Adley

Silly dating sims, farming games, and any cute game really! Plus a few side scroller games!

Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Slime Rancher, The Sims, Dream Daddy, Animal Crossing, Kirby, Monster Prom, Hatoful Boyfriend, Scribblenauts, Night In The Woods, Ni Nu Kuni, etc.

Big Nintendo fan!

He made the mistake of playing Doki Doki Literature Club without reading the warning tags and regrets it immensely...still a good game though.

He did the same thing with Huni Pop but that one made him laugh more then anything and he kind of got addicted to it. Then he found out there was a sequel called HuniCam so he went down that rabbit hole too.

He likes a lot of phone app games too like Cut the Rope, Neko Atsume, and Candy Crush.

Loves trashy dating app games, he thinks they’re so funny and cheesy

He was addicted to Mystic Messenger for a long while

Just because he has his preference doesn’t mean he won’t try other games too, Logan got him hooked on World of Warcraft (though really he did that to everyone), Virgil showed him Hollow Knight, and Roman suggested he play Undertales.

Prefers merch in the form of plushies and key chains!

He likes to bake and decorate cookies, cakes and pastries in the form of his favorite video game characters.

RED SQUAD

Duncan [Deceit] Adley (Patton’s twin)

A lot of first person shooter and combat games!

Doom Series, Super Smash Bros, Mortal Combat, Halo, Fortnight, Grand Theft Auto, Street Fighter, Tekken, Soul Calibur, Half-Life, Team Fortress, Destiny, Wolfenstein, Bio Shock, Splatoon, PUBg etc.

Patton was the one that introduced him to Splatoon and he won’t admit that it’s actually super fun.

Doesn’t mind story driven games and RPGs but he really just wants something he can zone out to and relax

He likes to troll people online, mainly assholes picking on little kids who just want to play.

He once teamed up with a group of kids on Call of Duty solely for the purpose of collectively kicking the asses of this groups of so called “real gamers” that were being jerks.

Has memorized all the combos! He doesn’t have time to sit and look up a cool finishing move, he needs it now!

Always mains the weakest/most useless character in fighting games and still manages to kick everyone’s ass.

Doesn’t have a preference in merch and usually grabs whatever he likes be it figurines, t-shirts, posters, plushies, or whatever, so long as he likes the game it comes from.

Has several tattoos from his favorite games

Emile Picani

Classic retro games, cartoonish games, and Nintendo are his jam broham!

Mario, Classic Sonic, Paper Boy, Transylvania, Spyro, Pac Man, All the Saga Disney games, Duck Hunt, Mario Kart, Galaga, Mega Man, Donkey Kong, Secret of Mana, Banjo-Kazooie, Conker’s Bad Fur Day, etc.

Absolutely fell in love with Shovel Knight when it came out!

Remy got him into all the indie pixel games: Towerfall, Terraria, Owlboy, Hotline Miami, Papers Please, Celeste, One Shot, etc.

Duncan was the one that introduced him to Cuphead and the usually play it together and see how far each of them can go without dying.

The game is difficult but the art is still so breathtaking!

Likes the occasional psychological thriller game

Bet Virgil showed him Alice: Madness Returns and Doki Doki Literature Club (after he’s played it of course)

Likes plushies and figurine merch with the occasional poster and coffee mug.

Likes to doodle a lot of his fav video game characters and cartoons and is actually really good at it. He helped design most of Duncan’s tattoos.

Remy Knightly

Likes a lot of indie games and old online flash games!

The Stanley Parables, Oxenfree, Inside, Firewatch, Super MeatBoy, The Binding of Issac, Donut County, Henry Stickman series, Impossible Quiz, Crush the Castle series, Hyper Light Drifter, etc.

He always gets everybody hooked on one game or another

He convinced everyone to play Undertales so for like a month they all went through a HUGE Undertales faze.

Was the actual, ACTUAL one that showed Duncan Cuphead because he knew the dork would be reminded of Emile because of the animation and would want to show it to him and play multiplayer (*cough* subtle matchmaker *cough*)

(Do not be fooled, he is a pinning boy himself)

Is up to date in all the gossip of the latest games and consuls, indie or mainstream! He’s in the know, know and if you need to know something chances are Remy probably knows it.

Weeds out through all the indie horror games for Virgil and recommends what he thinks are the best ones.

Same thing with Logan and his puzzle games, he’s usually is able to find very strange ones and Logan seems to likes those best.

Obviously has a lot of merch in coffee mug and thermal form as well as a few key chains.

Occasionally streams on Twitch with Duncan and Emile (sometimes inviting the main squad too), they’re commentary is usual hilarious.

[papercrane]

Eredar Lord of the Trifling Gnome: Cracktober 2018

Cracktober was made by @wolfandwild for the warcraft hell discord, where we got a randomized pairing and had to create a Hallow’s End themed fic for em! 

I got gelbin mekkatorque and JARAXXUS, EREDAR LORD OF THE BURNING LEGION. I played it straight!

“Nissa?”

“High Tinker?”

“When you can wrap up, how about you go on down to help get ready. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve stayed nearly an hour later than we agreed on.”

Gelbin Mekkatorque poked his head out of the siege tank he was in the middle of repairing, looking over at one of his top engineers of the Tinkers Court, Nissa Brightgale. She returned the pointed look right to him. Nissa was a bit younger than him at 94, but an accomplished tinker, and he recognized some of his own stubborn streak in her. Setting her wrench aside, she sat back, hand on her hip.

“I could say the same of you!”

He was caught, and he knew it, chuckling sheepishly. It was the first night of celebrations for Hallow’s End, and there was a feast in Ironforge that night to kick things off. As High Tinker, he’d agreed to represent his people at the event.

With some reluctance.

“I promised I’d make the festival, not the preparations. …And I’ll keep that promise!” He added hurriedly.

Nissa sighed good-naturedly, beginning to collect her things. “I believe you. Just don’t be too late, or the others will have my head!”

The ‘for not watching over you’ went unsaid.

She picked up her bag and looked at him again. “The big dinner starts at seven, ok?” “Seven.” Gelbin repeated duitifully, and Nissa departed with one last firm point in his direction, eyebrows raised.

Gelbin watched Nissa go until she’d disappeared over the rise of the hill, then dropped back inside the hull.  

He knew that his poorly-hidden lack of interest in public appearances was talked about in some circles, even if it wasn’t much of a problem in gnomish society. His own people worried about him for other reasons. Since the destruction of their capital, he was hardly ever alone while working in strange or open places if any of his top engineers could help it. Or any of his novice engineers. Or any Tinker’s Court members. Or anyone who happened to be about. Unless he was holed up in his office or at home, there was, not always but often, someone helping him, asking for help, or just puttering around nearby. Anywhere that could possibly be dangerous (or just especially lonely) tended to come with some watchful eyes.

He swore they had to have some sort of chart or calendar on who’d be the one to have a reason to watch him for special nights like this. Gelbin didn’t think he deserved the protective attitude, but if anything that seemed to encourage his citizens’ watchfulness. An official guard might fix the problem, but he just couldn’t stomach the idea of hiring one.

Nissa must have really wanted to go, actually, to have left like that. He wished he’d sent her off sooner.

As for him, he’d make his promise, but not yet. He had work to do, and this year’s events had made that work especially important.

There was a goblin saying that war was good business, and Gelbin didn’t wholly disagree- save that he made his business protecting as many of his people as he could.  

This siege engine would have every failsafe, and be better than ever before!

Gelbin was situated in the internal workings of the main engine with his glasses balanced on the tip of his nose, adding redundancies to the cooling lines and lubrication valves for the pistons. Zealous pilots had a habit of trying to push all their machines farther than the specs said was possible, so Gelbin had made a habit of making his machines capable of a bit more than he would write into the specs. The left side was the last side, and he’d be done for the night after that- with any luck he’d be able to keep his promise plus some, and be early.

Gelbin smiled, humming to himself as he measured, fed, and secured the new line.

It was times like this with his whole mind and body focused cleanly on work- good work, that would benefit and protect others, when the guilt that never truly went away was the quietest. If he had his way, not a single soul more among his people would meet an end in war, but as it was.

Well.

Gelbin tightened a bolt on the input valve that would remain closed unless the extra line was needed, running eyes and hands over it to ensure that it was solid.

Suddenly, he was broken out of his little reverie by a racket. It had been so quiet at first that he hadn’t heard it, but now, the ground all but shook with what seemed to be the footfalls of some large creature that was far off but rapidly approaching. A two legged one, by Gelbin’s estimation.

Now, that was odd. Some kind of enemy? He seriously doubted any denizen of the horde could get this far into dwarven territory unhindered, nor be so large. An ettin?

Gelbin figured it was worth a look. As he began carefully extricating himself from the machinery of the tank’s main turbo, the footfalls abruptly came to a stop, seemingly not too far off.

Before he could even come out to properly look, Gelbin heard the call.

“TRIFLING FOOLS, NOT EVEN BUILDING A STRONGHOLD IN THIS STRANGE LOCAL CAN SAVE YOU!”

There was a pause as whoever it was (and who was most certainly not an Ettin) apparently caught his breath, then the yelling continued at an even greater volume. Gelbin could not help but think that this would have been easier on him if he hadn’t stopped so far from the actual gates of Ironforge.

“YOUR ARROGANCE WILL BE YOUR UNDOING!”

“FOR THIS FORTRESS”

“WILL FACE”

Ironforge’s would-be assailant then paused for one last breath. While he’d been yelling, Gelbin had gotten a good look at him. It was a man’ari: bright red and half naked, wearing little more than a leather skirt and some decorative armor. When he’d gasped for a second, hands on his knees, he leaned back up to holler at absolute max volume:

“JARAXXUS, EREDAR LORD OF THE BURNING LEGION!!!!”

Gelbin was familiar with the name, and the man. He’d been there the last two times this particular Man’ari had been summoned. The only casualty the first time had been the summoner himself, but there’d been a team of 10 or so decent gladiators on hand at the time. The second time, he’d been one amongst the sea of demons they’d faced on the broken shore, and Gelbin had only seen a horde force strike him down early in the fight from afar. Neither time had he faced civilians, and never only one person.  

His thoughts had turned first to all his people behind them in the city, preparing for the celebration. Then, they turned to the tank he was still standing in. It could not yet be driven, but many of the weapons were operational. He took a mental inventory of all of them, how close they were, and how easy to activate.

He was glad Nissa had gone on. Assuming a cheerful, pleasant tone, Gelbin spoke.

“No need to yell. No one can hear you around here, not on a night like this.”

“WHO SAID THAT! SHOW YOURSELF, COWARDLY INSECT!” the Eredar lord snarled, looking around furiously.  

Gelbin waved cheerfully from where he was standing, completely unhidden, in the cockpit of the tank.

Jaraxxus looked down at him, almost cartoonishly shocked.

He looked haggard, and had early snow covering his legs nearly to the knee. Gelbin wondered what poor sod had summoned him, and how far he’d walked to get here.  And how he’d managed to walk here at all without being intercepted.

He hoped the summoner hadn’t been another gnome. Wilfred Fizzlebang had been a criminal and a thoroughly unpleasant man, but he’d been one of Gelbin’s citizens, and as such his responsibility nonetheless.

As Gelbin had been thinking this, Jaraxxus had been looking at him, in turn. For the fel lord… sensed something. Gelbin looked a lot like the trifling gnome who’d summoned him before, and yet…

Something was different. There was power in this tiny man.

Jaraxxus could sense the aura of a man who’d soldiered on unending hardship. Despite being forgotten. The aura of a man who’s model hadn’t been updated in 14 years. A man who, while all the other leader’s fancy models were at level 93 in Siege of Orgimmar, was a 123 elite. Instinctively, Jaraxxus knew that no matter where he went and found this gnome, he’d still be a level 123 elite.

Gelbin saw the look on his face and raised his eyebrows.

The fel lord stammered, still yelling. “IS. ARE YOU THIS PLACE’S ONLY DEFENSE?”

Why not? Gelbin nodded cheerfully. “I am.”

“I. I SEE.”

Jaraxxus looked around. He looked at the tank. He looked at Gelbin.

“Would you like to come into the workshop? It’s a cold night.”

“IF. YOU. WOULD LEAD ME WILLINGLY INTO YOUR STRONGHOLD, I WOULD INVITE SUCH A FOOLISH ERROR.”

Gelbin hopped down from the tank and began walking briskly towards the workshop (and importantly, not towards the city). Jaraxxus gave a look to all the guns that Gelbin just cheerfully abandoned as if they gave no advantage at all and followed stiffly, clearly completely at a loss of what to do besides obey.

Gelbin kept his pace normal as his field workshop came into view, and confidently strode in first.

And as the door opened, Gelbin stepped to the side and onto one of several buttons just behind it.

Immediately as Jaraxxus came in behind him, one of the security systems he’d developed kicked into action. In mere seconds, the prototype legion operative trapping device (or P.L.O.T. device) sent fel-guided restraints around his legs and arms with legendary dwarvish precision. There was even a gag! Jaraxxus fell to the ground with a furious (but muffled) yell, and wiggled around to no avail.

Gelbin put his hands on his hips. Worked perfectly, first time! Pays to be prepared. He thought with satisfaction.

He kneeled beside Jaraxxus, who glared daggers at him from where his face was squished against the floor, continuing the muffled tirade.

“Sorry about that, but I can’t have a Legion invasion in my city. Wait here.” Gelbin said, then hurried off towards Ironforge, ignoring the muffled threats from behind the door.

He had to get help for this, and he knew just who to ask.

--

Gelbin wound through the crowded square, dodging groups of gnomes, dwarves, and alliance races of all kinds without too much difficulty. He was stopped several times, but with a little small talk, slipped away.

He found the queen near the announcing stand. She was kneeling beside her son, Dagran, fixing a piece of his costume that had fallen loose. Gelbin wasn’t entirely sure what the lad was supposed to be- part of it looked like armor, but he also looked to be on ‘fire’ with some paper flames. Finishing fixing it, Moira patted Dagran on the head, and he ran off with the other children. She stood and looked to Gelbin.

“He couldn’t decide whether to be a paladin or the new fire-lord, so he did both. Made it himself, ‘cept for the armor.”

“He’s a creative one!”

“That he is.” Moira turned to him with a smile, then noticed his expression. She was immediately alert.

“Has something happened?”

“In a manner of speaking. It’s under control, and I don’t want any commotion, but… I could use your advice.”

Moira nodded. “Let’s be discreet, then. We’ll talk more outside.”

Gelbin followed behind her as she strode calmly, but with purpose, out towards the gates. This time, there were fewer questions. She was a true statesman, Moira. Her very presence always seemed to communicate exactly what she intended it to. It was a shame how dwarvish prejudice had limited her.

Once they were outside in the crisp autumn air and, after nodding to the guards, had made their way out of earshot, she turned to him again.

“Alrigh’, what’s the nature of this emergency.”

“Well, we’ve had a bit of an invader.” Gelbin began. “He was pretty easily caught, but… well. I think you’d better see this one for yourself.”

---

Moira squinted at the bound demon. Said demon wiggled around, yelling something unintelligible behind the gag.

“Kinda’ skinny, fer eredar.”

Gelbin looked at ‘Jaraxxus’ again. He had a hard time thinking of any of the hulking draenei as small, but on closer inspection, he was indeed kind of scrawny compared to some warriors of his kind Gelbin had seen.

“I think he was a summoner, mainly, unless he was holding back for some reason the previous two times we encountered him.”

“And you don’t know when he was summoned, or by who, or where he came from?”

Gelbin shook his head. “Didn’t really wait. And I have a feeling he won’t be quite in the mood to tell us, at the moment.”

Jaraxxus wiggled angrily again, spitting what was probably curse-words (whether just rude or a literal curse) through the gag. Moira regarded him for a moment, then turned and smiled exaggeratedly unpleasantly at Gelbin, winking once out of Jaraxxus’ line of vision. He nodded back, affecting an especially careless attitude.

“And it can’t escape?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. This P.L.O.T. device is specially designed for fel-containment.”

“Then I think, High Tinker, that you ought to leave him here and enjoy the feast. We can have some of his ex-compatriots tell us all about him later, I think.”

Gelbin smiled at the title. “Well, that sounds like a plan, Queen Reagent.”

“Wonderful.” Moira drawled almost comically maliciously. “You shouldn’t let something so… small spoil the night.”

“Of course. “

And they shut the door on the now furiously wiggling fel lord without further discussion.

At the feast, Gelbin couldn’t quite forget their captive demon, but Moira was the same as ever, a master at acting as if nothing at all was amiss. He tried his best to emulate her. They’d had a more serious talk outside, and determined that there really was no risk in leaving him a bit longer, so he knew he shouldn’t worry, but it felt strange to say the least. He was sure some of his friends could tell he was nervous.

After the feast concluded, Moira found the remainder of the council to let them know, and Gelbin set about contacting Velen to see if they could arrange for someone who knew Jaraxxus to come and advise them. He supposed it was lucky that it had been him who’d found Jaraxxus first. All the leaders of the allied races of the Alliance had some form of contact, he could contact Velen without delay on his magic missive sendulator (or MMS). He felt a bit bad, though. It was generally understood that the Prophet and his people were on a sort of vacation after finally being freed of the thousands of years of being under the legion’s shadow. But it had to be done. The three hammers were already scrabbling a bit on whether to keep or kill him, and Moira had to firmly remind them that Jaraxxus was Gelbin’s prisoner, not theirs.

They’d all gone together to the office only to find the fel lord sound asleep on the floor, snoring noisily. After Falstad woke him with an all-too-gleeful kick, a small group of Dwarvish and gnomish mages and guards who had been gathered to escort him confiscated his armor and transferred him to the Ironforge prisons used for high-profile and political prisoners.

Since this was bound to alert the city, Gelbin and Muradin had been tasked with announcing everything. As such, there was a sizable amount of onlookers by the time the furious fel lord was taken through the city, but the extreme restraints seemed to satisfy, and besides assorted congratulations (especially from gnomes) and one scolding from an understandably worried Nissa, the transfer went on without a hitch.

Once he was in, his bindings were removed with a bit of magic, and he immediately began shouting again. The “YOU FOOLS, YOU’VE ONLY BROUGHT ME INTO YOUR STRONGHOLD” and “YOU WILL FEEL MY WRATH!” and such were stoutly ignored as everything was secured and prepared.

“Now, we’ll treat you humanely, you wretch, despite the trick of leavin’ ya in the office for the feast.” Moira told him, after rapping on the bars to get him to shut up.

“You’ll have dinner, and tea. We aren’t monsters like your lot.”

In protest of Jaraxxus’ outfit, which was truly miniscule when his armor had been taken from him, Muradin had also had someone go and find him the largest shirt they could- a flannel made for a very fat dwarf. The result was that it was wide enough, but still far too short for him.  The pants they offered were rejected with disdain.

The sight of the eredar lord in a plaid shirt that barely covered his ribs and a leather miniskirt miserably eating a bowl of soup was almost enough to make Gelbin laugh, and Falstad didn’t even try not to, rolling with mirth as soon as he saw him.

What a night.

 After only two days, Velen arrived at the city with an artificer he’d found that knew Jaraxxus on Argus and had agreed to come named Aayel, and three of his guard. The unique situation had lent itself to expediency, and so they’d traveled to Stormwind via portal, then taken the tram. Also in attendance were Gelbin and the Council. They all met in the royal hall of Ironforge, not the prison; something that was made possible by Gelbin’s busy work over the last few days. He’d been making magical restraints specially designed for man’ari, and the result was a sour faced Jaraxxus seated before them with one of Moira’s teacups, frowning but otherwise unrestricted except for relatively unobtrusive bands around his ankles and wrists, and a collar.

(Nissa had suggested putting a ring on it, but Gelbin had flatly denied on principle.)

He was wearing a different shirt today, and that first one had apparently been truly hard to find in girth, because this one was even smaller. The effect when combined with the suppressor bands and the same leather skirt was enough to make Falstad collapse in laughter a second time. Gelbin was sure the image would be seared on his eyeballs for at least a week.

“I can see why you asked us to bring clothes.” Artificer Aayel sneered as the envoy entered.

When they were all settled and had been awkwardly served tea, Moira nodded at the artificer. “So you know this so called Eredar lord Jaraxxus?”

“Jarasum.”

“Jarasum?”

Aayel nodded. “His name. I won’t humor that disgusting man’ari foolishness.”

Jaraxxus scowled at her. “Jarasum is no more!”

“His hair is no more, that’s for sure.”

“YOU INSOLENT TRAITOR!”

“Silence!” Velen said firmly, and both fell quiet. “Please, artificer, tell us what you know about him.”

“Easily.” Aayel nodded. “This traitor was Archimonde’s lapdog. A grand Vizier of the Augari, who specialized in summoning and teleportation.”

“My skills are NOT so limited, you wretch!”

“Oh, right. And some pretty shit fire magic.”

Jaraxxus- or should it be Jarasum?-  scowled at her, but said nothing more to defend himself. Muradin and Velen nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“Who summoned you, and where are they now?” Velen asked next. Behind him, Aayel scowled and gestured threateningly.

Jarasum leaned back nervously, suddenly quick to answer.

“A vile wyrmtongue who was left behind on this planet missed its leaders so that it summoned me to help it, or perhaps to suffer here with it. I do not know. I killed it immediately after summoning, of course.”

“That seems to be typical for you.” Gelbin remarked. “Of course it is! I am the summoner, not the summoned! It is an ultimate insult!”  

“A suitable one for you, you worm!” cried Aayel. “You’ve become more demon than man, no better than your pets!”

This time, Moira interrupted them, with a sharp “OY!” Then (after a withering, matronly look) she turned politely to Velen.

“We have some questions of our own.”

“Of course.”

“We didn’t have much trouble catching him, but can you tell us anything about the risk, or what you think should be done?” Gelbin asked.

“Well.” Velen said calmly, “I do not think he is any more risk than what you have seen. He can come back with us… or he could remain here.” Privately, Velen didn’t want to deal with this, and hoped his offer would be accepted. “He could work here, instead of being our prisoner. A form of community service, maybe.”

Gelbin looked around, then nodded. “Fine with me. I don’t want to burden you at a time like this, and I suppose we could use the extra hands about now.”

”Do you have a way to ensure safety?”

“I’ve clearly been restrained.” Jarasum snarled, waving a hand.

Velen turned. “This reminds me. What is the nature of these restraints, High Tinker?”

“Ah! Made those myself for this. Well, they’re first and foremost silencers of magic.” Gelbin adjusted his glasses. “But there is also a security protocol! If he tries and takes one of those off, the rest will shock him with what I estimate to be just about three times as much power required to destroy his current physical form. And if he gets any ideas and, through whatever means, my own heart stops…”

Gelbin flicked his eyes to his captive, catching him looking at him. When their eyes met Jaraxxus’ eyes widened, ears flicking back. Gelbin addressed him.

“It’ll be just about four-point-five times as much. Got it?”

“Maybe the ugly blighter wants that!” Cried Falstad. “So he can pop up somewhere else, free!”

Artificer Aayel shook her head. “No, I think not. The legion is disbanded. Returning could take millennia now, and there’s no way to know.” She gave Jarasum a hard stare. “He got very lucky, and he knows it.”

“Maybe it was fate.” Velen added serenely.

Aayel didn’t even glance at him, maintaining her glare. “Even you aren’t stupid enough to try that. And if you are, it just means we’ll likely never have to deal with you again. You’re lucky to have been summoned at all, but even luckier that it was nowhere near Azuremist, or you’d be back in the nether right now.”

Velen put a hand on her arm. “Still, it’s better to have him unquestionably under watch.”

She relented immediately. “Of course, Prophet.”

“And things often happen that are unexpected, but important.” His calm gaze turned to Jarasum, who met it, although suitably cowed. “Don’t think I don’t remember you, Jarasum. You were a good student, and loyal. That loyalty led you astray, but all is not lost. I have seen many things, in the past few years. There are ‎Nathrezim‎ in the army of the light.”

Velen turned towards Artificer Aayel somberly. The whole room was quiet. The prophet had the sort of aura that made people serious when he spoke.

“Aayel is right. You are very lucky. Do not let this chance go to waste. It is your choice.”

Jarasum looked at the floor sourly. “I will… not attempt escape.”

“More than I expected to hear.” Velen said, rolling with the lackluster statement as if he had expected it, actually. He looked at Gelbin.

“Tell me if he’s too much trouble.”

“I don’t expect he will be, Prophet. Thank you for coming all this way, and for your guidance.”

“Of course.”

And having given a satisfactory verdict that would keep Jaraxxus out of his hair, Velen nodded, and Aayel and their small guard of three immediately began preparing to leave as if he’d given a signal.

Falstad piped up again. “Wait, now. We keepin’ him? Where will the big lug sleep?”

Everyone paused for a moment.

“I have a spare room.” Gelbin said.

Jaraxxus shrugged. “I have no objections.”

“Are you confident in those bonds?” Aayel said sternly.

“I am.”

“And I’m even more confident in the guard of the city.” Moira added.

“Then do as you will.” Aayel shrugged.

And with that, the Draenei envoy set off, headed by Velen. It was time he took his leave to return to his vacation, happy with the outcome. He had some parties to get to of his own.

--

Gelbin led them to his house, flanked by a squad of tinkers.

“So I am no prisoner?”

“Nope! Although I suppose if you didn’t want to stay with me you shouldn’t have agreed to. I can’t imagine the council will just let you go harass someone else at home.”

“And if I decide to conquer this whole wretched place?”

“Then I’d imagine you’ll have some trouble in the city. I think it’s safer for us that you’re in here, instead of the opposite.”

Jarasum only grunted.

 After getting him set up, they ended up with the fel lord sitting stiffly at the table while Gelbin looked awkwardly at him, wondering if he could leave him here and go work tomorrow, and if he’d want dinner, and if the 3 or 4 gnomes he estimated were currently outside would knock soon.

“Why keep it up?” Gelbin finally had to ask.

“What do you mean.”

“The whole…” he waved a hand vaguely. “’Eredar lord of the burning legion’ business. Why not just… give it up? The legion was destroyed.”

“I would not ‘just give it up’. It was the path and title I chose.”

“It doesn’t seem like it got you anything worth holding onto. You went from being a respected, well liked vizier to. Well, no offense, but...” Gelbin gestured again.

“I was never well liked.” Jarasum replied flatly.

“Oh. Well then. From a respected, disliked Grand Vizier to a disrespected, hated, and subjugated failure of a demon, then. Suppose trying to pick the winning side didn’t exactly turn out for you.”

Jarasum sat bolt upright, smacking his fists petulantly on the table.

“I was NOT picking the winning side!” he cried, suddenly angrier than Gelbin had ever seen him in his interrogation. He stood, hands still in fists, although he made no moves towards Gelbin.

“I served Archimonde, Master of the Augari! I was a prized student! He demanded the best, and I gave the best! He did what he did for knowledge, and I followed! I was unwavering! I did- I did not CHOOSE the winning side! I AM NO SPINELESS, OPPORTUNISTIC WORM!”

Jarasum looked down at him with a truly indescribable look on his face. Gelbin wasn’t sure if he was going to try and set him on fire or burst into tears.

“I WAS LOYAL!”

He stamped a hoof on the floor petulantly and flung himself back in the chair again, head in his hands.

“I WAS LOYAL TO HIM! I NEVER FALTERED!”

Gelbin watched this outburst, for once at a complete loss. He could almost understand it, which frightened him. Loyalty. Where had loyalty to a man he’d trusted gotten him?

Gelbin tried for a second to imagine how things might have turned out if Thermaplug was the boss, but the thought was so terrible that he immediately backtracked, shuddering. He looked up again at Jarasum. The man had never looked so pathetic, worn and small.

Gelbin sighed.

He had to stop wishing to give people second chances so easily.

He leaned back, putting his head in his hand. “You haven’t messed up half as much as me, I assure you. I had a hand in my whole species’ near-extermination.”

When he only got a glare, he laughed. “What, don’t believe it? We’re going to need coffee for this.”

“What is coffee?”

Gelbin’s eyebrows raised. “Cream and sugar in yours, then.”

Gelbin served them both and sat at the table, and then followed a candid explanation of the whole saga of Sicco Thermaplug. Jarasum listened like he couldn’t believe Gelbin’s candidness.

“And this really happened as you say?”

“Ask anyone. Or several anyones- better sample size.”

“Hm.”

Jarasum headed off to the guest room uncharacteristically quietly.

--

The next morning, Gelbin woke before dawn, as always. On his way to the kitchen, he paused by the guest door, and was met with cacophonous snoring from the other side. Well, it was only four AM. Grabbing some toast and coffee, he wandered out the door… to find two members of Gnomish special ops seated on either side of it. He recognized them immediately as Jarri Sparkflight, 38, and Fredrik Lockbolt, 72.

“What is this?”

Jarri saluted. “Third watch of the night, sir. Don’t worry about our health!”

“I’m not- I mean, I’m glad, but that’s-“ Gelbin rubbed his nose, sliding his glasses up his face. “How long do you intend to be here?”

“Until he leaves, sir!” Fredrik chirped.

“Then we’ll follow him.” Jarri added.

Gelbin sighed. “I’ll just go get him now, then.”

 Unfortunately, he got no respite when he’d gathered Jarasum and headed to the yard. There was a cloud of Gnomeregan citizens waiting as Gelbin, an irate Jarasum and his new chaperones rounded the hill. Jarasum was fully dressed, for once- but barely. He seemed to have an allergy to weather-appropriate clothing, and had somehow arranged the robes he’d been left with to show most of his chest.

The watch continued as he oversaw various projects, as he held meetings, and then even as he started on work projects of his own. In fact, he wasn’t sure, but the number of people around them might have increased throughout the day. And through it all, Jarasum stood awkwardly by, watching everything with a frown. He was told several times by both Gelbin and other tinkers (much less politely) that he wasn’t required to stay, but he refused each time. Gelbin kept catching him staring intensely at him as he did things.

Gelbin decided to ignore him as he worked on assembling a prototype mechanostrider. He could feel eyes on him, but refused to be deterred, and eventually became so engrossed in the task that he forgot that Jarasum was even there.

That is, until a red face appeared on the other side of the machine. Gelbin glanced up, lifting his visor, to find Jarasum kneeling so he was at Gelbin’s height and eyeing the gun.

“What is this.”

Gelbin could almost appreciate the blunt request. “A vehicle of my own invention! Thinking of adding a flamethrower option.”

“Arcane fire?”

“No, just propellants.”

Suddenly, Jarasum lifted the strider a little with one hand. Gelbin looked over in surprise, then turned back- the angle was better.

“Arcane flame lasts longer.”

“It requires a certain kind of user, though.”

Jarasum nodded. “The worthy.”

Gelbin sighed. “I think I’ll stick with the lowly chemical methods, for now.”

 And so began their new arrangement. Virtually anywhere Gelbin went, especially at first, there was a whole entourage with them. At work, in public, and even at home- although he tried multiple times to convince them it was un-needed. Jarasum himself was dismissive at first, but eventually began to help more, even (although Gelbin suspected it might have been a ploy by his tinkers to get him away from Gelbin) working on his own.  

In spite of himself, Gelbin was also learning more about Jarasum. He had no real ‘inside voice’, for one, and even when inside his words tended… to carry. He was also a truly voracious student. The only time he’d ‘escaped’, being nowhere in sight when Gelbin left a meeting, Gelbin had been pointed to the archives of Ironforge. There he’d found Jarasum reading, gnomish guards in tow. How he’d been permitted inside was unclear, but he’d managed it, and returned there often afterwards to read about a dizzying array of subjects. Magical theory was a clear favorite, but Gelbin still wasn’t sure if there was a theme to his interests beyond that. He’d read anything. Eventually, he’d managed to convince the librarians to let him take some books home.

The spare room was kept spotlessly clean, but Jarasum had a habit of setting the book he was reading down and then leaving it there, then starting another and leaving it, until there were half read books scattered throughout the house. Gelbin wasn’t sure how he kept up with them all. Gelbin noticed that for some reason, almost all the books left sitting on the tables and counters were engineering manuals, and Jarasum’s comments on his work had improved in both relevancy and depth surprisingly quickly. Gelbin found himself explaining things as we went, and found to his surprise that Jarasum’s unique Augari perspective actually helped him think of a new solution to a problem on several occasions. Soon, they were something approaching partners in builds. Jarasum even began to have similar interactions with other engineers who could look past his ‘unique’ manner of speaking.

It had also become apparent that the getup they’d found Jarasum in was not just assigned by the legion. He eschewed pants of all kinds, and Gelbin suspected that he’d only switched to long skirts and robes over short ones because of the fast-approaching Dun Morogh winter. Whenever there was a possibility of making his outfit more revealing, Jarasum took it.

There were constant complaints from Jarasum that he couldn’t use magic, and only slightly less constant grandstanding, but overall, things weren’t as chaotic as they could have been.

--

Things changed suddenly for the first time a few weeks later, while a team was working on a siege tower further from the city than usual. Gelbin had been welding, Jarasum had been messing with a gun, and and Nissa had been glaring at Jarasum, when an engineer had called out in alarm.

Off where they were pointing was the offending creature- a yeti! Their scout aimed their gun, but before they could shoot, they were interrupted by:

INFERNO!

Everyone looked in the other direction to see Jarasum, posing as if casting a spell. Nothing happened. He snarled at his bracelet, then… tackled the yeti.  

The scout was first too shocked to shoot, then collapsed laughing as an angry eredar hoofed the Yeti in the head, sending it scrambling off into the hills in fear.

After that, things became easier with his tinkers, though Gelbin couldn’t tell if the change was from increased trust due to the intent of Jarasum’s actions, or good humor from how ridiculous they were.

--

The second time that things changed suddenly was the beginning of December. Gelbin was going to check in with his team in Gnomregan, and he was bringing a special headlight for one of their vehicles while he was there. Jarasum had tagged along, and Gelbin found he didn’t mind. Jarasum had definitely taken a shine to him, and things had become eerily comfortable over the last few months.

As he hopped off his strider, the air was cold and still.

It was… still?

Gelbin stopped in his tracks, dropping the bulb. Luckily it didn’t shatter, sinking into the deep winter snow without a sound. He felt Jarasum stop beside him, hoof-steps coming to a halt when they were in line with each other.

No one was with them! But he’d not been left alone in a trip to Gnomeregan’s halls since the city fell. Which meant…

Gelbin looked up at Jarasum in shock, pushing his glasses up his nose a bit. The gaze was met, then broken, as his apparent bodyguard shuffled in confusion, looking at the bulb, then at Gelbin again, then at the ground.

“You dropped that.”

“You’re my guard!”

“What?”

“Haven’t you noticed? We’re alone! I suppose my tinkers trust you.”

Jarasum looked down at him imperiously. “I don’t care what they think.”

“Well, I do! Come here a second.”

Obliging despite his tone, Jarasum leaned down to Gelbin’s height. This maneuver put him nearly prostrated on the ground, but he’d gotten it down pat by now, kneeling on his long skirts in the snow.

The inquisitive look he gave Gelbin quickly turned to shock as he reached over and, with a click, undid one of Jarasum’s magical dampeners.

“If they trust you, I do.”

One by one, Gelbin removed the rest of them from the shocked man, then started gathering up the bands from the snow. Jarasum remained kneeling there, frozen in place.

“Honestly, I already did, but I didn’t want to have anyone freak out and fire at you, cause a scene, you know-“

Gelbin was interrupted by a tentative hand on his shoulder. He looked up just as an eredar face moved down, and ended up head-butting him on the forehead. After a beat Jarasum quickly backed away, falling back to sit in the snow and…. blushing. He turned a deep plum color when he did, Gelbin noted.

“Thank you.” Jarasum said, finally, scooping up the bulb as he stood up.

“Of course. I trust you won’t betray my, well, trust?”

Jarasum just shook his head furiously and began marching abruptly up the way, still blushing.

Gelbin put the bands in his pockets, a little confused, and followed.

--

“I made a mistake earlier.”

It was later that same night, and they were sitting in Gelbin’s tiny living room. Gelbin was picking at some biscuits and reading a new proposal for a type of jet propulsion system, and Jarasum had been in the middle of a book of magical theory that he’d begged from one of Ironforge’s more lenient magic-practitioners. He was still looking at it even as he spoke.

“Or. Well. I didn’t make one. It was not the time. Not that I ever had any issues with power balance before. But it would be in poor taste, still. I think.” His tail swished agitatedly.

Gelbin sat up. “Wait, wait. What was this mistake?” He couldn’t think of anything evil that had happened since officially (if a little prematurely) releasing Jarasum from parole, but he’d never heard him ramble like that. Not so quietly, anyway.

Jarasum looked at the book with an unreadable expression for a second.

“Headbutting you.”

“Oh. Well, that was hardly an issue. You didn’t hurt me a bit.”

“No.” Jarasum’s face scrunched, frustrated.

“No?”

“Come here.”

“Alright,” Gelbin chuckled, slightly bemused, and moved to hop off his chair, but was stopped.

“No. Wait. Stay there.”

Gelbin stayed. Jarasum sat up and came to sit before him on the floor, so their faces were at about the same height. He stared at Gelbin for a moment with intense focus.

Then he kissed him on the nose.

He leaned back again almost immediately, and there was a long moment in which neither man moved. Slowly, Jarasum’s face grew more and more plum colored.

“WAS THIS AMENABLE.” he shouted abruptly, directly in Gelbin’s face.

Gelbin blinked a few times. “Yes. Uh. It was.”

They looked at each other for a minute, Gelbin taking and losing bets with himself of how purple Jarasum’s face could become.

“Do you need some time to process this?” he offered after a minute.

“YES I DO. GOODNIGHT.” Jarasum bellowed again, and then stood up and scurried to the guest room.

What a night.

Gelbin had some thinking to do as well.

--

The next morning involved several heartfelt talks, lots of heartfelt yelling, and in the end, both men were late to show up to work.

--

It was a cold evening, and the first feast of Winter’s Veil was set for that night in Ironforge. But outside in the machine yard, two people were not quite yet ready for the festivities. A large, bright red man’ari, slightly under-dressed for the weather, was fiddling with a gun attachment, occasionally handing tools to the other man, inside the tank. They’d made a promise to show up, but not quite yet. The air was crisp and still, broken only by their voices from time to time.

Yes, all was peaceful…… until, suddenly they were disturbed by a sound. A sound of encroaching chaos. None other than an inquisitor demon was cackling its way up the path leading to the city, and monologuing to itself in such a way that neither man could miss it.

“Aha… the fools.. as they have grown fat and stupid in celebrations… I have waited. Their souls will be my feast. I see them all. Every man woman and child will-“

“TRIFLING, INSIGNIFICANT CREATURE.”

The inquisitor demon sensed a fel presence, confusingly very faded but still noticeably eredar, almost as soon as it heard Jarasum. It looked a bit confused as it saw him- he made quite a figure in two separate layered plunging neck robes, welding gloves, and an enormous and obviously home-made knitted scarf- but quickly perked up.

“Jaraxxus! Lord! We have found each other! Join me in desecrating this place and we will work together to take our new place over these-“

The demon was cut off again, by some familiar, absolute max volume bellowing.

“INFERNO!!!”

When the inquisitor had been satisfactorily incinerated, Jarasum looked down proudly from where Gelbin’s head was poking out of the tank, watching the embers of the demon fade from this plane with interest. He was blatantly hoping to impress.

“Nice shot. I can only take one occurrence like you, I think. Pass me the spanner?”

“As if that hideous creature could take my place.” “You have me there.”

Jarasum returned primly to his seat on a stack of tires, passing the spanner. He got a kiss on the knuckles as payment before both men returned to their tasks. If they hurried, they wouldn’t miss the banquet, as promised, and would be allowed to join in the drinking afterwards with friends.

I already have a new place, thank you very much. he thought smugly to himself as he picked up the attachment again.

    POST SCRIPT (SLIGHTLY NAUGHTY)

On a beach in Tanaris, the sun shone warmly as waves lapped softly at the shore. Seated on a beach chair in a colorful robe and swim trunks was Prophet Velen himself, and several other draenei were relaxing or playing in the water nearby.

He was awakened from the nap he’d drifted into while laying there in the sun by a little chime. He lifted his Gnomish Magical Missive Sendulator (or MMS), and with a press of a button, the High tinker’s nervous voice came tinnily through the speakers. He seemed to be shouting.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOUR FOLK GO INTO HEAT?!?!”

“Why would I tell you this?” Velen asked in confusion, sitting up and pulling down his sunglasses. “Do you not?” “OF COURSE I DON’T! WHY WOULD- …Hm, that’s an interesting discussion for later, actually.”

There was only one situation Gelbin could be in to warrant this conversation. Velen took advantage of his distraction to cut in. “You can ignore him if you’d like. He won’t die if left lonely for it, no matter what lies he told you.”

Velen could almost hear a dismissive hand-wave through the gnomish device. “No, no, he hasn’t been coercive, Rather the opposite, actually. Just a little…..…. loud.” Gelbin finished awkwardly.

There was a short pause.

“About how long will this last?”

“Around two days. Slightly more when alone, but it should not make much difference.”

There was another pause. Velen could almost feel Gelbin thinking through the line.

“Slightly?”

“Do not worry yourself over it.”

“Well. You know. …Efficiency.”

“Are you asking if it would be more efficient to aid him?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” Velen allowed himself a slight pause before adding, impishly: “Slightly.”

He waited smugly through one last silence.

“Any tips?”

“He doesn’t have to… I think you say, be on the top?” Velen explained, masterfully hiding his amusement.

“U- Understood.”

The sound of someone furiously scribbling something.

“I have to go. Thank you for the… help, prophet.”

“Of course. Happiness in the joining.” Velen replied, then hung up before Gelbin could react, chuckling to himself.

As he set aside the MMS, a lightforged woman walked up with a strawberry daiquiri in each hand. She handed Velen one. “Is everything alright, Prophet Velen?”

“When one has faith, everything is.” Velen sighed happily, taking the frilly drink.

[swipestream]

New Release Roundup – 28 April, 2018: Science Fiction

Robot geneticists, grand strategists, A. I. invaders, and time-lost explorers feature in this week’s roundup of the newest releases in science fiction.

A. I. Battle Fleet (The A. I. War #5) – Vaughn Heppner 

It came from deep space. It sent the signal. Now our computers are killing us, helping the enemy drive us into extinction.

But some of us refuse to die. We fight back. We learn.

In a desperate fight, we captured one of the machine empire’s factory planets. Can we now defeat an interstellar superpower that has exterminated thousands of sentient races across the galaxy and slaughtered billions of us in the Solar System?

Not bloody likely, but Captain Jon Hawkins is on a mission. Using new warships from the factory planet, he’s searching for alien allies, more battle stations to storm and death machines to kill. He’s buying us time to turn the Solar System into a fortress…if he can stay alive long enough.

Alliance Stars (The Alliance Trilogy #1) – Michael Wallace 

Captain Jess Tolvern of HMS Blackbeard is leading a Royal Navy expedition across long-dormant space lanes toward Old Earth when an alien fleet ambushes her battle cruiser. The aliens are Adjudicators, an ancient race whose ethos is to judge other species and reduce their survivors to a stone age existence.

Tolvern sends a desperate message back to headquarters and retreats with her damaged ship to friendly systems. By the time she returns, the aliens have already invaded Alliance territory with a powerful fleet of star fortresses and accompanying dragoon ships, trapping and laying siege to the allied fleet.

While repairing her ship, Tolvern cobbles together a squadron of damaged allied warships, former raiders, and the local survivors of an Adjudicator attack to drive off the alien fleet.

Ascension (Ascension #6) – Ken Lozito

Earth’s greatest protection will become its biggest threat.

When the Confederation gathers a grand armada ostensibly to liberate Earth from the Boxans, the crew of the Athena must stop them before it’s too late.

Some species believe they can avoid war and endure the oppression of the Confederation while others choose to resist. The Athena and her crew struggle to keep the Star Alliance from splintering apart by offering them something unthinkable.

Ascension, is the final book in the Ascension series, an action-packed space opera saga that spans worlds. A journey that began when the brave crew of the Athena left Earth to investigate an alien structure discovered in the furthest reaches of the solar system will now come to an end.

Broadswords and Blasters #5

In this issue we’ve got a tale loosely based on the legend of Yennenga of Burkina Faso. What happens when the prophesied warrior wants something more out of life than warfare?

When the palace guards stage a coup against the royal family, will the young daughter of the family escape to a new world or stay where her home and heart are?

What happens when a small town calls out to the evil that dwells in dark places, and the evil answers?

Can a small contingent of warriors hold back the villainous forces of Kagan Kadir, whose lieutenants are each more horrific than the last?

Stranded on a planet, can a frontier space man escape? If he leaves, what will he be forced to leave behind?

A man can’t remember how he got on the train. He doesn’t know the other passengers, but each has a story to tell. What kind of destination is Oblivion anyway?

And finally, our cover story—to what ends will an emperor go to become a god, and what might it cost a man to oppose him?

Beyond Eternity (Paradox #2) – Phillip P. Peterson

Travel to the Stars . . . A Dream Fulfilled or Humankind’s Worst Nightmare?

Assumed dead, four astronauts are fighting for the future of humankind at the end of time and space.

After their mission to the outer limits of the solar system failed, David and his crewmates wake up at a strange place at the end of time. The alien intelligence wants them to go on a dangerous mission: circumnavigate the universe. If they succeed, they will secure the future of humankind.

But the universe is even more threatening than the AI believed. In the end, David, Ed, Grace, and Wendy must fight for survival at a place beyond space and time.

Exiles of the Belt (Void Dragon Hunters #4) – Felix R. Savage

They made him Commander of the Dragon Corps.

And left him to die.

With his Void Dragon, Tancred, Jay Scattergood has been given command of a newly formed unit: the Dragon Corps. Stuck on a remote asteroid in the Jovian Belt, Jay and his friends know they’ve been sidelined. Jay is determined to expose and defeat the conspiracy of traitors in the Department of Defense.

But a sneak attack on their asteroid changes his plans. The Dragon Corps launches into a death-defying mission that will take them deep into enemy space, where they will face the full might of the Offense’s firepower … and discover the truth about the conspiracy.

The Void Dragons are about to face their biggest test yet.

Flight (Legend of the Galactic Heroes #6) – Yoshiki Tanaka

“The Golden Brat” Reinhard von Lohengramm, a military prodigy and admiral of the Galactic Empire, has ambitions beyond protecting the borders or even defeating the Empire’s enemies. He seeks to overthrow the old order and become a truly absolute—yet benevolent—dictator. His rival, the humble Yang Wen-li of the Free Planets Alliance, wishes to preserve democracy even if he must sacrifice his political ideals to defeat the Empire. Their political and military battles play out over a galactic chessboard in an epic saga fifteen centuries in the making!

After donning the emperor’s crown, Reinhard becomes the target of an assassination plot. Knowing that the Church of Terra is behind it, he deploys his troops to the church’s holy land: Earth. Meanwhile, Yang’s leisurely retirement is tempered by the surveillance networks watching his every move from both sides. And when he is one day visited by a group of men dressed in black, the galaxy, too, relinquishes peace to become embroiled in upheaval once again. Welcome to the turning point in the war for the fate of the galaxy!

He Who Crosses Death (Star Warrior #3) – Isaac Hooke

Tane has travelled to Aegean Tetragon in search of the archaeoceti, a mystical race that he believes can restore Sinive to life. He is willing to pay any price to save her.

Any.

Unfortunately, shortly after his team arrives, he discovers that a few uninvited guests have tagged along.

Now Tane must not only complete the trials the archaeoceti have laid before him, but he must outwit his hunters. Either way, he won’t back down. The stakes are too high. And when Tane discovers the true price he must pay, he must make a choice that could destroy him.

For he who crosses death does not do so lightly.

Also available: Doom Wielder (Star Warrior #4)

Human Phase (Robot Geneticists #6) – J. S. Morin

The red planet will run red with blood.

Martian terraformer Kaylee Fourteen is a recent immigrant from Earth. Residents of the domed colonies of Mars can practically smell the day they’ll be able to walk outdoors on their own planet without the need for air supplies. But the committees on Earth control the resources the colonists need and their interference threatens the terraforming project’s very existence…

Until a group of radicals takes hostages to force the release of the tech and materials the terraformers need.

Caught in the crossfire, Kaylee has to navigate the delicate line between sympathy for her captors’ goals and horror at their methods. If she can’t keep the peace and find a way to get the hostage takers what they ask for, humans and robots alike will pay with their lives.

How can anyone negotiate a hostage crisis with a bomb locked around her neck?

The fate of two worlds and the balance of power between humans and robots hang on that answer.

Lucky Empire (Lucky’s Marines #3) – Joshua James

Mankind’s luck has run out…

As humanity rushes toward universal slaughter, the last Marine standing in the way of extinction is the least qualified one around — just ask him.

With the conspiracy now fully in power, Lucky & crew have turned into fugitives within the Empire. As an ancient enemy closes in on humankind, one last, desperate gamble is their only chance at survival — if it isn’t too late already. Luck may not be on their side this time.

Lucky’s Marines are at their over-the-top finest in this third outing, reveling in salty language, violent outbursts, and lucky escapes – even if their fearless leader would rather be dead already.

Osiris (The Locus #3) – Ralph Kern

It’s been three months since the cruise ship M/S Atlantica arrived in a hostile new world.

The survivors dream of building a home, but just as their hopes rise, they learn the true cost of saving thousands of people from catastrophe.

Conrad Wakefield, the architect of the Locus project, killed billions.

Fleeing, Wakefield unleashes the full fury of the advanced weaponry of his ship, the Osiris, leaving a trail of death and destruction. Commander Heather Slater and her battle-damaged destroyer, the USS Paul Ignatius, relentlessly pursue, hungry for revenge.

But two stowaways hide aboard Osiris. Marine Jack Cohen and Karl Grayson, a CIA assassin, have more in common than they care to admit. They must use every skill they have to evade Wakefield’s elite mercenaries and bring him to justice. As they explore the secrets of Osiris, they discover the fate of this new Earth depends on whether the mysterious artificial intelligence aboard truly has humanity’s best interests at heart.

Paradox Slaughter (Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter #4) – Jake Bible

Robbed of his chits and betrayed by one of his oldest contacts, Roak is now on a rampage across the galaxy to hunt the duplicitous scumbag down and exact some serious payback.

Bishop is on the run and Roak is right behind him.

System by system, planet by planet, contact by contact, Roak leaves no rock unturned and no lead unchecked. He beats answers out of those that dare help Bishop. He kills those that refuse to answer. Roak is waging war on the criminal grapevine and no one is safe from his wrath.

But Roak soon finds out that while he is the galaxy’s preeminent bounty hunter, it is now his turn to be hunted. And the hunter coming for him is a force from his past that he may not be able to escape!

  New Release Roundup – 28 April, 2018: Science Fiction published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[zippdementia]

Part 34 Alignment May Vary: As She Remembers It

Rayden’s backstory and the reason for his betrayal of Karina is something I’ve thought long and hard on, not only as to why it happened but how to present it. The following session was my solution, turning exposition into gameplay with some new mechanics.

“There is a fortress ahead,” Rayden tells them. “It was a Gulug fort but we took it from them and now we are expected to hold it.“ He grins. “That’s the price we pay, I suppose.” He looks over the group. “I was supposed to bring reinforcements, but I expected more than this.”

Karina remembers: in reality, the team of recruitments had been attacked. She had been the only survivor and had told Rayden this when she met them. He had taken her to the fortress, where... she shudders. Something bad happens at the fortress, she recalls.

But this time is different. Traki and Tyrion have followed her into this memory, and so she indicates them as well when she says, “We are all that you have.”

Rayden smiles his easy smile. “Do you have equipment, at least?”

Karina is about to tell him no when suddenly Tyrion steps forward. “We do,” he says. Karina turns to tell him to shut up, that rags do not count as “equipment” when she sees he is wearing a half plate of armor, the very one he had lost in the Tombs of Haggemoth. Strapped to his belt are two fine longswords along with a pouch he used to hold his potion.

“It’s what I was hoping to wear,” Tyrion tells her, stressing the words I was hoping. And suddenly she understands.

This is part of the new mechanics I am gradually introducing into this dream world. I have the party tell me what they wish to be wearing and what weapons they want and then use their desires to set a DC between 10-30. Then they roll Intelligence and see if they can “remember” this equipment into existence. Tyrion gets what is described above, while Karina ends up with mended mariner’s armor and her magical handcrossbow. Traki desires nothing except some decent clothes: as a monk, his weapons are always with him.

Siege

The fortress of Hankari sits on a hill of solid obsidian overlooking the edge of the obsidian plains as they shift from black glass to sparse flecks of green. This is the edge of the Gulug border and it is here that Karina fought her first battle in the war. She is about to fight it again.

As the companions enter the fortress, they are taken to Commander Gregor Sampson, who is briefing the men on the situation. He takes an immediate dislike to Karina’s appearance (”They’ll let anything in the army these days,” he grumbles about her Tiefling ancestry) but Rayden chastises him into silence, defending the new recruit as “the terror of the borderlands,” a moniker he has just made up for her.

Sampson explains that this fortress hides a secret, some power that the Gulugs use to make their abominable machines, but the commander has been unable to find it. Worse, the Gulug army has been spotted diverting a section of their force to take back the fortress. “You ever been in a battle against the Gulug, girl?” Sampson asks Karina. “Machines that look like men, but with too many arms and fire coming out of most of them. Things falling down on you from above, bugs that burrow like flying razors through your skin and into your organs, killing a man from within. Wait till the army gets here, then we’ll see who the terror of the borderlands is.”

Soon enough and sure enough, Karina and her companions find themselves on the battlements staring out at the badlands, across which marches a host at least twice their own size. Sunlight glints off metal and as the army comes closer they can see that mixed in among the footsoldiers are large crablike machines, more neck than body, with mandible-like jaws and four arms, two of them mighty pincers like a giant crab. They walk on four legs and cross the battlefield at a brisk pace, making directly for the fortress. Archers around Karina fire arrows into the sun, to send them raining down among the beasts, but even from afar they can see they are having little effect, and they aren’t slowing them at all. Before long, the machines are on the walls, their spider like legs digging into the stone as they begin to cumbersomely rise into the air and pull themselves, step by step, up the wall.

“We are doomed,” an archer near Traki says.

“I have survived worse,” Traki says quietly, though he is not sure if he is being honest.

“I have not,” the archer says, and gives him a queer look. “You don’t understand. I die here. Every time, I die here. It never changes. I can feel them inside me, already, eating me away from the inside out.”

“Last time you did not have us here,” Traki tells him.

“No, I did not. You have brought something, too, something different. Something which could give me a way out. I agreed to let it give me a way out...” even as the archer trails off his features are already contorting, changing color to a sickly green while fungal tendrils of moss begin to sprout all over his body. Traki recoils from the abomination, whispering the green death, before striking out once, hard, to the side of the archer’s now completely covered face. The blow lifts the archer off his feet and he tumbles off the wall down towards the mechanical beasts. One grabs him and rips him in two, flinging the pieces aside as it continues its way up.

The Dark Crystal

The battle quickly turns against them. Tyrion is not fully up to health, due to his illness and infection, and he falls quickly in battle to a swarm of mechanical beetles, who begin to make good on Gregor Sampson’s warning as they worm their way inside his body. Gregor himself leads Rayden and a number of troops out on horseback to meet the foe that has trailed behind the mechanical monsters, but it is a poor decision. With the main force of the defenders gone to fight, the ones left are simply not numerous enough to deal with the mechanical monstrosities. Karina manages to nearly destroy one of the four beasts climbing the walls with her necrotic magic, and does manage to knock one off the wall completely, but is forced to fall back when one ascends while blasting fire ahead of it from devices hidden in its maw. Traki tries to rally the other defenders and manages to long enough to take the fight to one of the machines that ascends, but then a Flyer arrives, looking like a mechanical dragon and breathing flame down on the battlements. All is clearly lost, when suddenly Karina has an idea.

“This isn’t what happened,” she tells herself. “I did not die here. This battle was not lost.” And even as she has the thought, the battlefield begins to melt away in front of her...

This is an extension of the equipment gaining mechanic I introduced earlier. I’ve been waiting for one of the players to try something big and situation changing like this. With a successful Intelligence roll, Karina remembers how the battle really happened...

They were all standing in the courtyard, Tyrion was back alive. Around them, the bodies of broken machines and dying men lay strewn on top of each other, the black oil mixing with the red blood, small fires burning in the setting sun. Karina recalled now what the battle had truly been like. Gregor had never, in true history, ridden his troops out of the gates. They had massed in the courtyard and defended it to the last man (and woman). Karina herself had taken down the Flying machine with a single shot through its eye, a feat that Rayden himself had applauded and named “Karina’s Mark.” Over the years of the war she would leave her “mark” many more times.

This isn’t to say there aren’t consequences for dying in the dreamworld. Tyrion has taken a permanent -1 to CHA, WIS, and INT as his mind is torn apart by the experience of ��dying.” But the goal here is to get the players through this long-awaited piece of lore, so permanent death is on hold for a minute.

The three companions watch as a captive is dragged before Rayden, a young woman who curses at Rayden and the General in the guttural Gulug tongue. Gregor doesn’t speak Gulug but he reads her expression enough to take offence and smashes the woman’s face with a gauntleted fist, knocking her unconscious. Rayden doesn’t like it, but Gregor reminds him he’ll be the one interrogating her and that Rayden will end up doing far far worse. That makes him silent, though out of agreement or shame, Karina does not know.

But there is a memory here too that is not her own and it shortly plays out. After the battle, Karina had gone off to help pick up and bury the dead. But Rayden had descended beneath the earth of the courtyard, broken open by the battle to reveal the secret passages Gregor had been looking for. Only now Karina, Tyrion, and Traki follow them and pass through a long tunnel to a small cave where a crystal dominates one wall, its glow illuminating their features.

“These are how they make and control their machins,” Gregor said with amazement. “These are what will change the war in our favor!”

Exaltations are cut short however as the room grows hot, too hot to believe. Rayden, Gregor, and the soldiers that came here with them burst into sudden flame and then turn their burning features towards the companions. At first they think it is some trick of the crystal but quickly realize that, no, this is the fever catching up to them. The memory itself is burning away and they risk getting caught up in it.

Fighting their way free of the flames, the companions race back through the tunnel, only to find it extends forever with no end in sight. Traki is the first to challenge the situation: “If we need an exit, then we must make one!” he exclaims and concentrates on “remembering” a door in this tunnel. It works: a door they are not entirely positive wasn’t there before is in the tunnel wall and they wrench it open and pile through...

... into a gorgeously furnished sitting room. Two familiar figures are here: Rayden is explaining something to a much younger and healthier Zennatos (considering the last time they saw him he was on his deathbed from the cursed book). Rayden continues to speak...

“... she has told me about the crystals. I know how they work and despite my best efforts, the Alliance will know soon, too. This is why we started the war, Zennatos. It was to get their power.”

“And so,” Zennatos says, bringing Rayden a cup of something golden with steam coming off the top. “You wish to defect.”

Rayden sips carefully at the drink. “I have no choice.”

“Ah ah,” Zennatos chides. “You always have a choice. But, I suppose in this case, if you want to be with her, there is nothing else you can do.”

Rayden looks about to object, but Zennatos cuts him off, sharply. “I am not blind and I am not stupid. You hire my men to rescue this girl, this prisoner, from your own torture chamber, then say you must be the one to escort her back to Gulug. Unless this is part of your greatest spy mission of all time, then I would say you are truly defecting.”

Rayden looks uneasily at Karina and the others. “We should have this conversation in private,” he says.

“You paid them, they will keep silent,” Zennatos responds, then his voice becomes more sympathetic. “Have you told Karina yet?”

“No,” Rayden says.

“Told me what?” Karina asks, but Rayden does not respond to her. Of course not: in his memory she is not here, just a few assassins, or thieves, or whomever he hired to save this girl they speak of.

“I cannot tell Karina,” Rayden goes on. “She would not... she would not understand.”

“You mean she would try to stop you,” Zennatos says. “Ah, well, she is a better friend than I am.”

“You know what you are to do?” Rayden asks the companions, and then proceeds to tell them

The companions are being tasked with carrying out the next part of Rayden’s memory: a heist at the huge prison where Rayden’s prisoner is being kept. The companions will be in disguise as guards. Rayden will make sure they have a way in. The prisoner is to be freed and given a piece of the crystal that they saw underground. She is a Gulug and one of the few who knows how to harness and use the power of the crystal. When taken to the roof of the prison, she will use her power to create a gate and warp herself to Gulug, where Rayden will meet her. The companions will then escape in the confusion. Even as he finishes telling them the plan, before they can ask questions, the room is already fading, turning into an inky darkness that becomes a wide body of water, in the middle of which looms a prison upon a stone outcrop.

Pursued

Each successive part of this adventure has moved a little more towards free form. At the prison, the players are given more free reign. Find the prisoner, they are told. Rescue her.

Truth be told, there is a little bit of a stumble here. It is one of those sessions where the group is tired from a long week, we are approaching the holidays, and everyone is a little distracted. Seeing this, I speed the scene up a bit. The players encounter commander Gregor again, now oveseeing this prison. Their disguises keep him from suspicion and they use a decent ruse to get to the prisoner, playing on Gregor’s apparant dislike of Rayden (which they perceived back in the seige) to hint that they are here to do his job for him and need to interrogate the prisoner so Rayden won’t do it.

“If you ask me,” Gregor says, “He’s gotten too close to her. He’s letting a pretty face get in the way of his duty.”

With this ruse, it is easy to find their way to the prisoner’s cell and get her into their custody. By mentinoing Rayden’s name, a word she clearly understands, they gain the young woman’s trust and begin to lead her through the prison.

The prison was envisioned as a very open layout, with about four stories of cat walks and indoor towers used to watch over the prisoners. A cold stone place interspersed with metal catwalks, the feel is like that of a meat factory. The players make it unhindered almost to the roof and are walking along the highest level of catwalks when they are commanded to stop. Gregor is striding towards them along the catwalk, flanked by two guards, while from the other end of the catwalk three more come, one dressed in the robes of a battle priest. The companions are trapped! But before they can try to make an attempt to keep their cover and continue on their way, Gregor’s face contorts and he and his companions begin to change, green mold errupting all over their bodies.

The infection has found them again.

The following fight is quick, though it has some excellent moments. Tyrion begins using his magic, holding the line against Gregor, Traki takes the lead, using his incredible monk fighting skills to shove the priest and one of his comrades off the catwalk, where they fall to their deaths seventy feet below on the hard stone. Karina takes the woman and runs, forcing her way through the opening Traki has made and heads for the ladder that leads to the roof. Her plan is to get there, activate the portal, and force them onto the next memory and it is a good plan... but not one that works. Karina disappears up the ladder and Traki and Tyrion are left alone to face the remaining monsters. Traki knocks one more off the catwalk, but the others are too strong. Gregor especially has become a monster, tentacles of whipping green vines pushing out through his armor, his face no longer visible under a forest of moss, his hands burning with an acid touch as they tear at Tyrion and Traki. A few failed rolls from Traki is too many and the two are overwhelmed.

I’ve said that the penalties here are not about permanent death, but rather about the infection and fever taking over the bodies and minds of the players. This “death” is due to the infection, and both Tyrion and Traki will have a permanent effect from it, but they will live to continue on in this memory that has become a nightmare.

Darkness gives way to light, as Traki and Tyrion both lift themselves from a ground that is no longer metal but instead cobbled stone. It is cold, there is a light dusting of snow in the air, and all around them looms a city unlike any they have ever seen. Glass and metal fuse together to make buildings the size of castles. Streets are wide as small rivers and some of the people who walk them show metal on their bodies, whenever their thick winter clothing allows a rare glimpse of their skin.

Ahead of them, the tallest building of all looms, a gigantic tower made of metal but with one whole side, the one facing the street, made up of a thick dark blue glass. Coming off of either end of this tower extends a sixty foot wall. Giant torchlights that seem to give off no flame shine down from the wall, illuminating the street in the twilight.

“Where is this?” Tyrion asks.

“This is Gulug,” Karina says. “And this is not Rayden’s memory. It is mine.”

Next time, What She Remembers Part II.