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Thread: Central Coast (Location B)

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    Central Coast (Location B)

    The central coast is the longest stretch of land in the map. The ground is sandy along the gulf bed and grassy to the north. This land could easily host three armies.

    The tournament will begin when 6 threads have been posted in this subforum. Good Luck!
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    Out of Character:
    Despite the confusion over distances in my registration, I will play the DMT/Landscaping ability so that it is worthy, in my opinion, of the omission of 300+ troops and a relatively long charging period. I will try to be as fair as possible.

    The army is arriving from Needle Point Valley (location A).


    As the bizarre army, ranging from huggable to pimply, marched along the empty beach, they were watched by their true commanders. In a world without matter, and where even light was simply created by sentient minds, the creatures known as Father Brain and the Queen hovered amid their kingdom of nothingness. Of course, those titles were nothing but the simple trappings of the game. Both of them had assumed many names as mortals along all planes of existence were shuffled about and influenced for reasons ranging from vengeance to boredom. For each, there was only one true name, and it was so simple and appropriate that they need not even be voiced, simply seen in their true forms.

    I love those little Ai’Brone monky monks! said Onyx Calico as she drifted about in the emptiness that stretched forever as a rainbow colored fog. Her long white hair splayed out behind her head, giving the impression that she was floating on her back despite this world having no gravity or sense of direction. An impossibly wide smile graced her delicate feline features, and for a moment she radiated the cheerfulness of a child’s doll. However, her scant clothing, composed of hiking boots, short shorts, and a tank top under a fishnet shawl, meant she was the kind of doll played with by the older girls, or even the older boys. They’re so smart too! I didn’t think anyone could really pull mortals across the word divides, she continued as she happily swished her tail.

    Her companion, whom had been attempting to ignore her, looked over his shoulder suddenly and gave a curt response. Actually, all they are doing is maintaining this world’s acknowledgement of the foreign matter. The transference between realities was purely due to my techniques. As usual, Amethyst Possum sounded more like a salesman then a scientist, though he certainly outdid The Astounding Relativologist when it came to pride. He had only turned his head enough to show the profile of his long white snout and the purple gem embedded in his forehead, and he didn’t even honor Calico with a glance as he spoke.

    Then you’re smart too, she assured him as if speaking to a petulant child, which caused him to turn his back on her. In front of him was their main source of information, a series of small rifts that marked the void like wounds. There were ten in total, and each showed the world as it was viewed from one of the All-Seeing Eyes. With a dreamy glaze over her eyes, Calico studied his appearance against the windows into a more solid reality. Everything seemed bleaker there, so much so that his wardrobe, blue robes and pointed hat both decorated with silver stars and moons, was like a piece of vivid art against it. To her, that art was drawn in crayon and the silvery bits were stickers for a job well done. With a laugh, she added, And you didn’t even have to explode any lil’ Hanchulans to do it! Possum didn’t respond, which caused the pitch black stone in Calico’s forehead to pulse with annoyance. It was momentary, though, as she turned away from him and spoke to the presence that was the unlucky spokesman of the Hanchulans. Isn’t that right, Edgar? No splodey. She lifted her fists, then fanned out her fingers emphatically.

    Edgar’s missing right half stared blankly at her. The creature was divided between worlds in every sense of the word, and he had been her avatar, puppet, and crash dummy for some time now. However, his infantile mind had to stretch to its limit to express his recognition of her even after all their adventures. That recognition came in the quivering of his solitary bulbous eye, then a stream of ethereal droop that ran from his half mouth and over the large red bubble that he was wrapped around like a living picture frame. In that rippling orb was Calico’s own view of Althanas, the view from Edgar’s other eye down in the lower plane.

    “A bloomin’ field trip?!” came the shout from both viewing devices in the dream demons’ command center, and both of them completely forgot the other as they observed the situation through their own means.

    *~*

    The Astounding Relativologist paused and looked behind him at the Sergeant who had already frozen his stride and had his hairy arms spread in disbelief, both shield and spear hanging in limp hands as if forgotten. “They have signed and notarized permission slips from their guardians,” the metal-coated man explained as he began to walk forward again. Butterworth didn’t move, and word of his stillness quickly passed down their guarded perimeter until every padded foot was solidly placed and waiting. The youths at the formation’s core bumped into each other as the driver of their transport locked the vehicle in place to avoid turning the lead hares slowly into road kill. Like a wave crashing noisily against a shore side cliff, the students came to a gradual halt. “Present the evidence,” their professor said to them with a mild hint of irritation.

    Apparently, his voice carried to all the helmets because exactly one hundred pieces of white paper were held skyward. They looked like an entire battalion baring flags of surrender, a sentiment that was not lost on the five hundred hares ringing them. Some struck noble, guardian-like poses, but most just sniffed and chortled derisively.

    “Why stop?” Edgar asked in a remarkably accurate translation of his master’s words. His eye had lost most if its glow now that the sun was high above them, but he still wasn’t a sight that either of the arguing parties enjoyed looking at.

    “He’s nutty!” Sergeant Puddles responded while looking at his adversary instead of his commander, “Their parents must be nutty, as well! Unless… you hoodwinked them.” He wheeled on a paw and shouted toward the inner edge of the hares’ formation. “Binky! Read me what that paper says!”

    A few of the humans marveled at the hare’s ability to distinguish between what appeared, to them, to be identical creatures. But, it wasn’t as impressive as they assumed. Binky was recognized among the hares as the most cowardly, the bare minimum of soldier that could join such a prestigious command. Therefore, he was always as close to the formation’s center as possible, especially if he could also arrange it with his commander directly at his fore.

    “Um, yessir!” Binky shouted back in a startled voice. There was a surprised human yelp as a permission slip was liberated. “Dear parents and/or guardians and/or caretaker drones,” he said enthusiastically, “Class number 438 will be accompanying me on an excursion into other-dimensional space as part three of their current module: Temporal Recursors and Experimental Evaluation in Non-simulated Space.” Though he stumbled over the complex words, he continued with vigor after taking a deep breath. “This unit is imperative to understanding of the course. Absence will result in an essay assignment regarding the progress of dimensional membrane nature from the pre-material era to present day. It will be written in Bodily Suspension Hall with Mrs. Halberstern.” Somewhere, a young man choked out a sob and his fellows comforted him before it became a flood of tears. Numerous other students turned their faces as if nauseous. Binky continued over them, “Please sign this permission certificate and have it notarized by your Residential and Security Divisional Representative. Thank you, and have a nice diactiv period. Yours Geniusly, The Astounding Relativologist, Head Researcher and Professor Elite of the Canunbrium Instructional Facility.” The recital finished with a grunt as a student yanked their paper away from the exhausted hare and hugged it tightly.

    Sergeant Puddles butted his spear against the ground triumphantly. “I knew it! That’s a shot over the ears if I ever heard one,” he shouted as he gestured forcefully at the professor with his shield hand, “Why, if it were in my power, I would give you the most belittling betitling in history. The Queen, may she live eternal forthwit, would have to make a new title for someone so low.”

    “You go, sergy-poo,” Edgar croaked in what was, sadly, another very accurate recital of Calico’s praise.

    The Astounding Relativologist shrugged dismissively. “I assure you, they are trained gravitopographers. Gravitopography itself is an intricate field of study, and my course is far more strenuous than others.” Without waiting for either an answer or an accusation that he had slipped into a different language, the researcher turned away from the hare and spoke into his helmet. “I believe that strategic orders would be prudent, Father,” he said with as much respect as his pride would allow. His eyes roved over their surroundings as he waited for a response.

    They stood on a wide stretch of beach that led into a large water body to their south. North was bare grasslands until mountains cut across in a southeasterly direction. They lowered into treed heights, then wrapped around the eastern horizon until leading into a craggy expanse at the distant shore. All that lay to the west was the army’s tracks, a collection of paws and boot marks with the smooth, pressed path of the transport at the center. Beyond that lay more mountains and the valley that Edgar had passed through to arrive here. Clearly, there was no reason to return.

    After nodding several times, The Astounding Relativologist faced the entire assembly of troops. “We are to continue east across the plain until we are within DMT range of the most northeast section of beach. Then, we will set up camp. Those are the orders of our leaders,” he said loud enough for the expectant ears of the hares.

    “Our Queen and his father… thingamajig are working together?” Sergeant Puddles asked Edgar in a dull tone as if he was trying to hide his disappointment from the being Edgar spoke for.

    The puppet stared straight ahead for a moment, then he spilled out a reasonable approximation of the reply, “We buddies. Camp eastery, nap time.”

    The Sergeant sighed quietly and made a small bow. Then, he waved his troops forward as the formation took its last trek of the day.

    *~*

    It was nearly dusk when they finally made camp. A large number of hares dropped their canvas packs and went to work on the tent while the rest of the force sat about at small fires. Butterworth was deep amongst them, moving from one to the other and inspecting each soldier with a few pointed questions. He parted from each with a warm, toothy smile and a quiet honorific statement for their queen.

    The full mass of students was gathered away from the warriors with the shiny metal transport shadowing them from the sun. They seemed awkward, many looking over the ground as if wanting to make their own fires. However, none of them made the first move.

    Closer to the pass between the plains and the rocky lands southeast, their professor walked with six hovering eyes as his only accompaniment. A large device was braced on his shoulder, clinking against his helmet rhythmically. It appeared to be a small artillery unit like the hand cannons used in some forces that stressed mobility and power, but it had four barrels and each were too long to make the weapon practical in fast-paced combat. Numbers danced on the eyepiece that hung from his helmet, and he watched it closely as he took measured steps. Finally satisfied with his position, he stopped and set the device down on its extendable tripod legs.

    “I wonder if the students are ready,” he mused quietly into the helmet microphone as he looked back at the camp. The hares had finished their tent. It looked large enough to hold a circus in, though only a very boring circus would have an earth brown tent. Most of the hares were drifting inside of it, making the camp seem vacant. Only about a hundred of them remained outside with weapons ready. The students also stayed outside. Occasionally, they drifted in or out of the vehicle, probably modifying their weapons with the work stations. The hare commander, his gold-gilded metal work distinct even from this distance, emerged from the tent and approached them. He began motioning for them to enter it. Clearly, it was a sign of pity, but most of the students took the offer.

    His earpiece suddenly crackled to life with the eerie static that indicated a connection beyond the realm of this plane. “They will learn. You need them to if you plan to defeat those threatening Canunbrium,” said the entity called Father Brain, a being discovered through the most cutting edge communication techniques, as well as the source of most major discoveries since.

    “Yes,” the professor agreed humbly. He hadn’t anticipated an answer. “I will activate the Dimensional Membrane Thinner,” he said with practiced dullness as he pressed the display on the back of the device. Each of the four barrels rotated outward slightly. Then, with one more command, they fired simultaneously. The gun bucked against his body as he watched the four projectiles shoot off into the distance, nothing but mechanically screaming blurs. Seconds passed as he waited with his own eyes glued to the targets and the floating eyes hovering higher to study the trajectory. Two miniscule puffs of earth suddenly sprouted from the base of the forested plateau. At the same time, two splashes were barely visible just off the beach. In moments, there would be nothing at those target locations but oversized molehills.

    Nodding in approval, The Astounding Relativologist packed the DMT onto his shoulder and began the long walk back to camp. The All-Seeing Eyes continued outward, three to the northeast, three to the southeast. They would make no attempt to avoid detection.

    Out of Character:
    Three All-Seeing Eyes are moving toward Location E, and three to Location C. The DMT has been set up in an area on the B side of the B/C border. It affects the area from the rocky terrain to the water, and just as far up the coast. But, it has left no traces other than two digging mounds at the base of the rocks.
    Last edited by Twisted Infinitum; 08-06-07 at 10:58 AM.
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  3. #3
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    Calico hugged her tail like a child with a blanket. Distractedly, she drew it from one side of her mouth to the other as if brushing the sleek white fur with her fangs. Her eyes were dull and focused on the Edgar bubble, which presented a scene that rode the border between weird and adorable.

    “Come in, kiddin’s! Join us for a spot of tea,” Sergeant Puddles said as if announcing their entrance to the whole torch lit tent. Edgar’s eye focused on him bursting through the tent flap with arms raised grandly. The students stepped hesitantly behind him, looking around at the cramped mass of rabbits that sat on the bare floor and help their cups aloft in greeting.

    Cries of “Jolly good” and “More the merrier” rang off the canvas walls. Despite red cheeks, the students seemed to feel more comfortable after the display, and the filed along the wall to the right of the entrance. Their eyes danced with awe and amusement as they studied the figures of the rabbits that had mostly dropped their armor to use as seats. Without the metal, they looked like carnival size stuffed animals. Any child who won one that big was a lucky kid indeed.

    The sergeant separated from the younglings at the entry flap and bobbed quickly along the left wall. He stopped in front of a hare that was a few paces away from where Edgar sat. “We need to make room for our guests,” he instructed quietly, “Increase the patrol to two and a half dens.”

    The other rabbit quickly hopped to his feet and sputtered, “Yes sir,” through a mouthful of tea. The cup left his hands as he fought his way into his armor, but it never did hit the grassy floor. It and its contents simply disappeared inches above with a delicate splash of liquid already bulging over the lip.

    As the soldier moved away, Butterworth approached Edgar and bobbed his head in a bow that was somewhat lacking. Calico pursed her lips as she watched, but she didn’t do anything aside from freezing with her tail still in her mouth. The hare commander, his face distorted in the bubble’s surface, spoke nervously, “Edgar… sire. I’ve just been having a thought that I couldn’t get outta my wit. I don’t mean to doubt the Queen, may she live eternal forthwit, but it’s been a spot of worry on me.”

    Aww, Mr. Butterworth is nervous, the dream demon cooed with the tail forgotten and falling back to its usual position, He shouldn’t be nervous, a nice bunny like him. Did you see how he’s looking after Possum’s poor little children? The image in the Edgar bubble shifted as the Althanas-bound Edgar nodded in agreement, though it was doubtful he completely understood the question. Sweetly, Calico brushed a hand over the quivering cheek of her half of Edgar. Mommy needs to make an appearance, sweety. Please scooty scoot over. Without pausing, she pressed her palm to the surface of the Edgar bubble and willed her essence into it.

    Suddenly, Edgar jolted as if electrocuted and flopped forward, almost bopping Sergeant Puddles in the nose. The hare started making an excited whimper as if he was going to call a medic. But, just as quickly, the puppet ratcheted back upright and smiled. It was a half smile, given the immobile wooden half, but it was as clear a sign of the change as the eye that now glowed a blood red in contrast to the gentle orange of old. “Don’t worry, my champion,” the Queen said gently through the mouth of Edgar. The jaw still clicked and creaked terribly, but the voice behind it was feminine, smooth, and regal in an unpolished sense. It took Butterworth less than a second to assume the most formal of bows. His legs collapsed to the point that he was almost squatting on the floor and his whiskers were tickling against the grass. “Rise, good sir,” said the possessed puppet in a tone that made “good sir” sound as whimsical as “sweety-doodle”.

    Immediately, Puddles complied and moved up to a squatting position before the reclining figure of the wooden man. “It’s… it’s grand to have you with us, your highness,” he said with diplomatic force and volume. Every hare nearby turned immediately, and the word spread so quickly that even the hares serving the students their Earl Grey were drawn into the mass fit of bowing.

    “My children,” Calico began in a louder voice, “How ya doin?! It’s been so very very long. I missed all my favorite cuddle bunnies.” Most of the rabbit population blushed so strongly that even their fur was tinged.

    Puddles responded on behalf of his regiment. “We missed you greatly as well, your highness! We haven’t laid eyes on you since that dream with the be-armed rattle snakes. Damn nasty beasts they were,” he finished with a sniffle of emotion.

    “And you gave those snakeys a very good beating, Puddles dear,” she reassured him and spread her arms, “I’m proud of all of you dears!”

    Amid the “thank you”s and patting of backs, the sergeant continued in a tone slightly more serious. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask, my Queen, but why are you not taking your usual form? It ever so springs the step to see you.”

    “Cause this isn’t a dream!” she laughed as if kicking off a surprise party.

    Surprise was certainly the response, though no one was in a partying mood. Some hares pinched each other, then nodded in contemplative agreement. “The dreams have been training for this day, right?” Butterworth asked hopefully.

    “Rightio!” their queen squealed, the red eye of her puppet burning brighter as the mismatched arms clasped together gleefully, “This is your time to be all shiny!” Her tone suddenly changed as if speaking under her breath, though it still filled the tent. “There are lots of hairless monkey thingies in this world, so be nice to them. Some of them have guns that make things go kaboom!” A few hares jumped, probably because she flailed her arms as she shouted the last word.

    “Explosive firearms are archaic compared to what our equipment is capable of,” said The Astounding Relativologist as he entered the tent. One of his students made a frantic whisper that he was addressing a queen, but the head researcher ignored it.

    Calico shot her gummy hand into the air in greeting. The torchlight made it look ghostly against the canvas. “Hello!” she crooned, “You must be that Astoundy Relator guy. Nice to make your aquantance.”

    “The Astounding Relativologist,” he said with an insulted cough.

    “Astonishing Relatologist?” she asked with her puppet’s head cocked sideways, “Is that like a person who sets people up on dates?” The hares chortled in unison. The target of the jib only glared under the shadow of his orb-like helmet. “I know! I’ll call you by the first letters. You will be TAR from now on!”

    “That is highly-“ the professor began.

    “And you kiddles are TAR’s minions! It sounds demonic. So, go out there and be big and scary. Rar!”

    It’s a strange and worrying sight when 350 pound rabbits are rolling with laughter in cramped quarters. There was even the sound of rabbits outside buckling with laughter, as well as squawks when some nearly fell into the camp fires. The humans, on the other hand, had grown pale with exasperation.

    “That’s all for tonight! Be good bunnies and listen to Edgar. I’ll give you all hugs later,” the Queen of the Bunnies said before her puppet convulsed again on her leaving.

    With the grin of a proud mother, the true form of Calico pulled her hand away from the viewing device. Laughter still rose from it, lifting her spirits higher than any amount of stuffy applause.

    How can a creature made not of chemicals show such signs of chemical imbalance? asked the incredulous voice of Possum.

    Still elated, Calico turned. Possum was facing her directly, his body limp with disbelief and his eyes so large they threatened to knock the spectacles from his snout. Fun keeps the morale up! she chirped as she locked hands behind her waist and twisted from side to side happily.

    With a shake of the head as if fighting his way through a fog of stupidity, Possum turned back to his All-Seeing Eye viewers and muttered, You’ll find a way to disperse me yet with that kind of unorthodox thought-form.

    Nah, that won’t happen since I lost my aura and you made yours go all twisty. She held her hands up and wrapped the fingers together at odd angles as if to demonstrate. Despite the disgust that other dream demons had for Possum’s self-mutilated aura, she just regarded it as one of her partner’s more adorable quirks.

    Once again, Possum didn’t respond. He focused all his attention instead on the images being transmitted from the eyes. Four showed the outlaying areas of the camp where hares marched in groups of five when not at their fires, and three showed nothing but thick treetops over elevated terrain. The remaining three looked down upon a large camp of unknown soldiers. They were probably humans from their size, though it was hard to tell. What was easy to see was the glints of metal on many of them as well as the war machines under their control.

    Ewww… spooty warrior types, Calico said with her face twisting in disgust. I hate mean people like that.

    We will make contact and explore agreeable terms, Possum informed her, more to override her groaning than to ask for her opinion on the matter.

    She gave her opinion anyway. You want to work with them? They’ll break my bunnies and all those poor TAR’s minions into little pieces!

    Possum didn’t bother to look at the emphatic gesture she was no doubt performing. If they are beyond an alliance, they will be more likely to move in our direction with the knowledge that we exist.. Then, we’ll have them in the DMT area, he said with the finality of a seasoned commander.

    A very disgruntled Calico continued talking to his back. What about the tiny mountains with trees? What if baddies come from there? Shouldn’t we do something about that?

    Unlikely, said Possum with only the barest amount of attention given her way. The forest is too think to allow a sizeable force through.

    They could fly, she pouted, though the other dream demon was beyond reach as he began issuing orders. With an expressive turn, Calico looked away from him and summoned a fresh bubble out of the nothingness. The image of a sad figure floated within it.

    *~*

    With precision beyond even centuries of practice, Tortured Mau placed the final stone upon the small shrine she had built. It was in the grasslands to the north of the camp. The firelight and voices of the hares barely reached her, leaving her with only the stars and her one cat, lit by its own stars, for company. The beast moved around her shrine as a sentry just on the edge of the marked circle in the ground.

    Quietly and slowly, Mau knelt before the low pyramid of stones at the center. Hieroglyphs had been carved into the grassy earth with the butt of her staff, leaving her only one path from the pyramid to the edge of the circle that she could travel without erasing the ancient designs. “Sisters sleep,” she whispered as she held her staff forward and lowered her head serenely. Her words led into a deep pit of despair, as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to see these sisters or let them sleep for another eternity.

    A voice reached her, then, and she batted an ear in response. The words of Onyx Calico entered her mind. All through the instructions, her mouth was curved bitterly as if tasting a flavor both disagreeable and tempting. “You are sad for them as well?” she asked the voice once it had finished. No answer came.

    Tortured Mau rose slowly on her staff and glided down the unmarred path. At the end, she met her cat with an outstretched hand and the beast nuzzled it. “Go in starlight,” the cat-like queen whispered. Immediately, her pet was off. It ran across the field with no more sound than the night-borne breeze. Before it, the forested heights loomed.

    Out of Character:
    One Shadow Cat has moved to the Forest Plateau (Location E).
    Last edited by Twisted Infinitum; 08-14-07 at 05:48 AM.
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  4. #4
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    “Top o’ the mornin’, lads and lasses. Off to your teacher. Positively, you’re all still students even if we’re in a jolly warzone! Wot wot!” commanded Sergeant Puddles in a booming fatherly voice as he stood before the tent and ushered the teenagers away. A hare standing near him wrinkled his nose thoughtfully, then forced his face to stillness. If the commander wanted to put a pretty face on this battle for the sake of the youngin’s, it wasn’t a soldier’s place to interfere. It wasn’t difficult to see their true situation, for the hare regiment were already armored and filing out of the tent with weapons locked. They formed ranks a few meters away and set about tightening the bindings on the crossbowmen’s large quivers. Despite having humanoid arms, they couldn’t reach back far enough around their wide bodies to cinch the buckles without a little help.

    Their commander gave them an approving nod and a prideful swell of his chest as he directed the early morning traffic spilling from the tent. His regal armor was already in place and shining gaudily, as usual. Even his monocle seemed to glimmer with a fresh polish. “Ah, just the royal I wanted to see,” he said at a break in the shouting and gesturing. Edgar, newly emerged, trudged forward as if not noticing the greeting directed at him. With a polite cough and a subtle bunt of his spear against the ground, the sergeant moved into the puppet’s path and spoke pointedly. “How is our queen this morning, my good chap?”

    Edgar froze, and his dim eye focused on Butterworth with agonizing slowness. The traffic cut in both directions behind him, most of whom swallowed their complaints upon realizing who the roadblock was. With a creak, his jaw went slack as if stretching. Then, he forced out the words, “Always right.”

    The hare commander didn’t miss a beat. He liked to keep his pleasantries punctual, after all, and Edgar’s speech left quite a span of dead time. “Yes yes. She is always right, isn’t she?” he asked loudly in the direction of his troops. They all voiced agreement. Then, some whispered to each other to find out what they had just agreed to.

    The Astounding Relativologist and his students interrupted the conversation with the sound of their heavy boots crunching over the grassland. “We need to strategize,” he informed the gold-rimmed hare as he came to a stop with the teens only 1.3 seconds behind.

    “Right,” Puddles interjected, “You keep your brood out of the eye of whatever storm washes over us, and we’ll see to it that they go home to their ma’s and pa’s arms.” He struck a sentinel’s pose that puffed his proud gut even larger. To his credit, not a hint of his distaste for the student’s manipulative teacher showed. Some hares, on the other hand, grumbled loudly about the swindle that had brought the children here in the first place.

    Similarly professional, The Astounding Relativologist countered with the simple statement, “We don’t need to demonstrate our strategic effectiveness to your band. However, I’ll allow it to keep this conversation brief.” He looked over his shoulder and fixed a single young man in his gaze. “Short burst. Redirect 45 below horizontal.”

    The student squeaked out a, “Yes, professor,” as he unplugged his oversized gun from its holster and held it up as if it were delicate. With the sweaty expression of one who hadn’t prepared for a graded presentation, he looked around with quick jerks of the head. Finally, though not without reluctance, he settled for the only visible option. Dropping heavily to one knee, he steadied the gun on his shoulder and pointed it toward the hare regiment that was going through final checks. One unfortunate soldier had his behind turned, and it was there that the gun’s rippling, nearly transparent beam flew. Not a single hair twitched as the beam found its target along the underside of the hare’s generous bottom. The ground under that bottom, though, did more than twitch. Like a peg being hammered from the underside of the grassy field, a small pillar jutted out of the ground and popped the poor creature on his underside. There was a squeal that Althanas rabbits, no matter how startled, could not hope to reproduce, and the targeted hare hopped clear over the crossbowman whose pack he had been checking.

    There was a moment of tense silence as the rabbits stared and the humans smirked. Then, a soft purring giggle came at them from the other side. Those who weren’t still marveling at the display and its potential applications turned quickly to see Tortured Mau looking dreary, but amused.

    “Perhaps we could use a wee spot o’ that magic,” Butterworth mused out the corner of his mouth as he too turned to see the enigmatic feline.

    She gave them all a smile, one that didn’t touch her eyes. Then, her brow furrowed and she turned to stare at the tree crested hills to the northeast. Her mouth twisted as if seeing something disturbing in that direction. “Destroy the destroyers,” she whispered to the air. Far away, her pet obeyed.

    *~*

    Who was right? I was! Baddies from the trees, that’s what I said! Like a five year old at her birthday, Calico danced around Possum. He tried to ignore her, though his eyes followed her and blazed annoyance on each pass.

    Entertain yourself, he grumbled while giving the impression that he wasn’t talking to her. With a wave of one hand, he caused the bright nothingness below them to transform into something resembling a floor. Half of it was grass, and the other sand with an edge of slowly lapping water. That’s the area within the DMT’s influence. You can’t do much with it yet, but it should amuse you, he said with an air of superiority.

    Calico barely glanced at the miniature representation of the beach. You just don’t want to admit it, she chided him as she stopped her spinning and stood with her arms crossed. I’ll play with it when I want to. She kept her pose steady while she floated behind him and poked at the ethereal landmass with the tip of her boot. As she dragged it from the sea side and up the beach, a small channel opened in the sand. The water quickly filled it. Calico couldn’t help but giggle, especially when she considered that the same effect would be felt on Althanas. On that very beach in that world of reality, a meter long stretch of sand had just been wedged away from the water’s edge.

    Possum glanced over his shoulder, trying to be sly. The swell of embarrassment colored his cheeks and darkened his gemstone, mostly for the fact that he had lost a point to none other than Onyx Calico. As scientific as his mind was, he couldn’t shake the sting, or the desire to retaliate. Tell me, he said tentatively without facing her, Where did you get that Mau creature? She doesn’t fit any current species/culture archetype that I am aware of. His tone was analytical, and just slightly teasing.

    Calico didn’t take a moment to stop her game of drawing on the beach. Down on the surface, it would look as if someone had taken a shovel and did their best to give the beach saw teeth. The kitties are mine, she said innocently. But, she also shot a barely discernable glare at him from the corner of her eye.

    Possum didn’t see the look, but he felt it. A smirk touched his face at the prospect of information to unearth. It would have to wait, though. I’ll give them their orders, he said. Calico just made an agreeable grunt.

    *~*

    Before noon, the troops were well on their way to their destinations. Edgar and Sergeant Puddles lead a group of 200 hares, half spearmen and half crossbowmen, as well as 50 of the teenagers heavy with technological trappings and a solitary floating eyeball. They marched at a rapid pace toward the rocky heights that marked the beginning of the forest. When the approaching army emerged from it, they would have a force waiting from them right at the base of the plateau. It may have been a questionable strategy to allow the enemy the heights. But, even from a distance, it was clear that those heights were uneven and craggy enough to make it a treacherous position to hold.

    One hundred hares, fifty of each brand, stayed to guard the camp while The Astounding Relativologist took his group to the DMT area. They traveled slowly, for they had the futuristic transport clunking along in the midst of their force that was equal to the other.
    Last edited by Twisted Infinitum; 08-14-07 at 09:24 AM.
    Masters of the toybox.
    CWA - Protecting the Wellbeing and Livlihood of the Kender Hero Chromanon Rockskin

  5. #5
    Member
    GP
    300
    Tiberius's Avatar

    Name
    Tiberius Corvelus Maximentus
    Age
    33
    Race
    Imperial Roman
    Gender
    Male
    Hair Color
    Brown with streaks of gray
    Eye Color
    Pale Blue
    Build
    5'8"/ 185lbs

    Out of Character:
    During the early morning hours, the twelve men that had the previous morning landed at Needle Point Valley (Location A), arrive on the Central Coast and fan out, approximately twenty five yards from one another. The ten legionaries forming a loose line to the rear, while the two scouts are sprinting ahead.

  6. #6
    Member
    EXP: 21,660, Level: 5
    Level completed: 24%, EXP required for next level: 5,340
    Level completed: 24%,
    EXP required for next level: 5,340
    GP
    3,585
    Twisted Infinitum's Avatar

    Name
    ....
    Age
    infinity
    Race
    Dream Demons
    Gender
    nope
    Job
    torment

    “Oh, I do so love these bandages,” said Binky as he nuzzled his nose against a roll before placing it in a neat row with a dozen others. As expected, he had made sure to remain in the base group. He had even whined, in as dignified a manner as possible, to be on the two man team that was setting out medical supplies in the safety of the tent. “I’m very glad that the Queen sent these with us. They’re my favorite brand. Much softer than those ones made out of kittens.”

    The hare walking near him froze with his arms wrapped around a large basket of Lillock leaf salve. He raised an eyebrow expectantly at Binky. Quickly, it turned into a glare. “May she live eternal forthwit!” he spouted in disgust.

    A suddenly forgotten roll bounced off Binky’s forehead as he clapped his hands to his mouth. “Oh my dear whiskers!” he screamed, “I offer my deepest apologies, my Queen!” He didn’t look at his companion, choosing instead to address the air. He did, however, catch the renewed glare. “May she live eternal forthwit,” he finished. The other hare nodded and set the basket down.

    A scream drifted through the tent flaps. It was distant and short, but as sorrowful as if a mother had lost her child. Binky hesitated for a moment before loping outside in the shadow of the other hare. They found no disarray, but all the five man patrols within sight had stopped and were staring to the north. The form of Tortured Mau was discernable enough that they could see her head slung back in a soundless continuation of the scream.

    *~*

    “You let another fall,” she cried to the sky as if expecting a response. Again, she received nothing. She limply fell forward and braced herself with her staff. Its charms jingled against her crown as her tears stained the lap of her robes. “And another, and another,” she trailed off as she forced herself toward the inner ring of her shrine. There, she fell to her knees and patted her tear streaked fur. The trickles renewed instantly. Slowly and precisely, as if the shaking of her shoulders could not affect her hands, she spread the moisture over the tip of her staff. Using it as a barbaric pencil, she carved symbols just beyond the inner circle. “I know your name is…” she whispered as she finished the word, “Skemec.” Then, she gouged a line through the center of it. “I give you peace, as much as I can. May you rest eternal.” She bit off the last word in disgust. Only the one above her could claim eternity, and she did so with petulance and indifference.

    *~*

    Calico poked out the bubble that had so rudely appeared of its own accord. Speak when spoken to, she said snidely after the face of Tortured Mau had disappeared. Without another thought, she looked down and sighed at the water washing her art unto the flatness of the beach again.

    Possum poked his nose over her shoulder, Interesting. Very uncharacteristic, however, he said as if contemplating how to write the scene into a report.

    Bad Possum! Calico hissed while she spun away. Her tone didn’t hold any embarrassment, just admonishment. Possum might as well have been a child caught snacking before supper. You’re all nose. She squeezed her own snout and made a clown-like honk. How’d your trucey dealy with the warrior types go?

    The topic change was so sudden that Possum was actually caught off guard. He sputtered for a moment before summarizing the events in as positive a light as possible. They were unreceptive. We should expect an eventual conflict.

    Almost before he was finished speaking, he drifted back to his half of the command center and began studying the rifts intently. Three showed the forest canopy where a bright flash had been seen earlier, and the eyes were tracking its source using any sign of movement that could be glimpsed through the branches. There was one eye each for the away parties. Butterworth’s group had already stopped and were arranging themselves while The Astounding Relativologist was still making his slow way to the beach. The other five showed orderly and predictable movement, both in the human camp and in their own. About half of the remaining hundred hares were patrolling in groups of five as far out as Mau’s shrine, though they didn’t venture very close to it. Each was formed of three spears and two bows, and all of them seemed to waver with occasional bouts of boredom.

    Calico gave his back a crafty smile before looking to her own eye on the world, which wobbled far more than the view from the eyes. Ok, sweety. Time to put some foots to the bottoms of those baddies, she said cheerily. The image bobbled in a nod.

    *~*

    “Right! A spear, half a kiddo, and a bow in each column. Keep it hoppin’ on down the line,” Butterworth shouted as he strutted in front of the force as they rearranged themselves. His spear and shield were ready as if an enemy might jump on his back at any moment. Perhaps he was too ready, for he almost shield bashed his queen’s puppet at it tapped him on the shoulder. Wordlessly, he righted himself in a strict pose and made as if nothing had happened. Patiently, he waited for their orders.

    “Eye on ‘em,” Edgar groaned promptly, possibly due to an early recital from on high, “Tongue on coldy pole. Follow.” Without waiting for a response, he toddled in the direction of the jagged heights that rose near their fore. The dawn sunlight glittered off his plated skirt and turtle shell shield. It would have been a majestic sight against the rising of earth’s teeth if not for the fact that he still had his spear upside down and was making a trail with the point.

    Sergeant Puddles stared at the bobbing back as he tried to make sense of the broken metaphor. With Edgar gaining ground, he eventually gave up and turned to his troops. “Stay in formation, lads!” he ordered. “And lasses,” he added with a glance over the skittish human line. Then, he bounded about and led them forward with spear point guiding them grandly. They made ground on Edgar, but not before he had swerved jaggedly a few times. Every one of them could practically hear the string of, “Left. Right. More right. Too far. Left now.” The lines jostled sideways with each correction, but only the students complained, and they did so quietly.

    Out of Character:
    Edgar, Sergeant Puddles Butterworth, one eye, and their formation enter the Forest Plateau (Location E).
    Last edited by Twisted Infinitum; 08-18-07 at 08:39 AM.
    Masters of the toybox.
    CWA - Protecting the Wellbeing and Livlihood of the Kender Hero Chromanon Rockskin

  7. #7
    Member
    GP
    300
    Tiberius's Avatar

    Name
    Tiberius Corvelus Maximentus
    Age
    33
    Race
    Imperial Roman
    Gender
    Male
    Hair Color
    Brown with streaks of gray
    Eye Color
    Pale Blue
    Build
    5'8"/ 185lbs

    Out of Character:
    The twelve men continue to advance up the coast, still in their line formation, with the scouts running ahead.


    Scout second class Servius Vala, a young man in his early twenties, five seven, weighing in a close to one hundred and fifty-two pounds, crouched low behind a fold in the land, peeked out over the earth lip and surveyed the landscape ahead of him. For about two miles in front of him, there was only sandy beach, long tufts of grass sprouting here and there, and the occasional dip or bend in the land, much like the one he was hiding in. The same could be said for the landscape behind him, just beach, random tufts of grass and the occasional fold in the land. Except, one of those folds, hid an army.

    These last few hours, as they slowly advanced up the coast, they had caught glimpses of the might beast now and again, but they hadn't had prolonged exposures to it. Not wanting to stay in one spot for too long might have accounted to these short exposures but there was nothing to be done about that. Right now however, Servius thought he had a pretty good idea as to where the camp lay, all he need do now, was wait.

    He didn't have to wait long.

    Presently three patrols of five men apiece, each group spaced at even intervals that allowed for constant visual and hearing contact, appeared just to the west of him. He crouched lower into the ground, using a long tuft of grass to hide his exposed face, and watched the passing patrols. Once they had passed him he sat up a little more, his breath suddenly short and his eyes wide with terror.

    He had finally gotten a good look at who these people were.

    "Rabbits," he breathed. His eyes darted west and three more patrols appeared. He inhaled sharply and slammed his body down into the ground, not at all trying to see what was happening this time. He had to get back to the others, tell them what he had found.

    He rolled onto his back and slowly began to shuffle his way down into the deepest crease in the fold of land, once he reached it he crouched and then began to run back the way he had come. Hopefully those patrols hadn't spotted him, hopefully.

    *~*

    Out of Character:
    The patrols are circling the camp in the same manner as planets would circle the sun. In an elliptical fashion, with each patrol with ear shot and visual distance of the other. They are walking the camp in intervals of about three minutes for each three, five man group patrols, with at least two groups of patrols visible at all times. Given permission to form the patrols like this, by Twisted Infinitum.


    *~*

    Lucius Spendius, veteran Centurion and mediocre assault tactician, walked slowly forward with the rest of his ten man contingent spread out to the southeast and northwest of him. The two scouts had long since run ahead, searching for anything that might be in there way, these ten men, including him, were there as a screen so that should they find anything, and it be hostile, the scouts could at least have some chance of escaping while the soldiers made distractions of themselves.

    Scarfices really, that's all we'd be. But, they wouldn't die in vain. The information that the scouts might carry could possibly save hundreds of lives in the end. Well worth the cost of only ten lives. Lucius stepped over the top of a low rise, shifted his large shield in his left arm and absently readjusted the spear in his right hand. They should be getting close to where that strange group of people had camped and they would likely be seeing one or both of the scouts soon.

    Sooner then he had anticipated.

    A flash of movement to the east caused him to halt the entire group of ten, and have them form into a loose shield wall, their spears held low against the ground to reduce glint, their shields angled slightly back so that they were partially hidden by the earth. Only he remained standing, as the other nine had to crouch to maintain their formation, as such he quickly saw that it was one of their own, sprinting like the devil himself was on his heels.

    "Rise, form a loose protective circle north by north west to south by south east around me." He waved his spear in the directions he wanted the men to face and they complied instantly, without the slightest hesitation. They all knew they might possibly be in hostile territory, so their nerves were wound tight and they're spears held at a constant ready. It was only a few moments after that that the scout came skidding to a halt just in front of Lucius. "Report Servius."

    The man wheezed for a moment, before standing and saluting Lucius wearily. "Aye, I believe I found the army we were looking for." Judging by the way his eyes rolled and shifted, Lucius had already guessed as much, but that also meant that there was something else to the matter. He gestured for the man to continue. "You'll never believe who it is sir!"

    Lucius chuckled. "Try me," he said blandly.

    "Rabbits sir! Huge, walking rabbits! Armed to the teeth it seems, though I didn't get a good look at their armor, was to busy staring at the rest of them."

    "Which is exactly what they want you to do Servius," Lucius said quietly, reaching up to grip the other mans shoulder. "You did good though, you've discovered an armed force within the vicinity of our army. Now, what else did you see?"

    "They're patrol sequence, well, at least a part of it. But if they're like any other army we've encountered, you can expect it to be synchronized and precise. I saw two patrols before I ran back, and I'd have to say you have about ten seconds between each patrol. Only problem is, they're all within sight and ear shot of each other, so surprise will be difficult."

    Lucius laughed abruptly and Servius suddenly looked more terrified then before. Lucius slowed his laughter and squeezed the mans shoulder. "Servius, there is always an element for surprise." He then nodded to him. "You've still done well, rest here, we will wait for the other man to join us before we move in."

    "Move in sir?"

    "Why, yes. We came here for information, did we not? Can't get much of it if we just stare at them, now can we?"

    "Sta-sta-stare, sir? You mean we're going to try and capture one of those, those, creatures!?"

    Lucius couldn't help but laugh a second time. "If you don't want to, you don't have to help. You're not a soldier, you're a scout. Scouts around obligated to fight."

    Servius breathed a sigh of relief at that. "I will however, have to tell Dursus that you failed in your duties to the Imperial Army if you don't." Servius straightened swiftly, his eyes wide with pure terror this time and he nodded stiffly.

    "I'll help."

    Lucius patted his shoulder. "Good man, now sit down and have a bite to eat. We might be here for a few hours."

    *~*

    A few hours was an understatement. When they had first stopped in the morning, it had been about mid-morning. By the time the last scout appeared, it was close to mid-afternoon. Lucius had been patient however, most assault tacticians were by nature, getting angry at the pace of things only resulted in more men dying on account of your hastily formed plans, and when the final scout appeared, he had already formed the men up into the semi-circular stance they had been when Servius had appeared.

    "Vibius, report."

    The man skidded to a halt in front of Lucius and after a moment of catching his breath, told Lucius much to the same effects as what Servius had told him. He nodded to the man when he had finished.

    "Good, good. Go grab a bite to eat and something to drink, when you're finished there, we'll move out."

    "To where, sir?" The scout asked, as he moved to gather his proscribed food and drink.

    "To catch us some rabbit."

    *~*

    It was the same fold of land as before but only Servius was the one to recognize it as such. To everyone else, it was just a fold, good for hiding, good for ambushing unwary rabbits. Lucius had been quite simple with his plan, and it all revolved around how fast Servius wanted to run.

    Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have expressed my wishes to not be a part of this! If he survived this, he would be sure to never voice such thoughts again. Cowardice and neglecting of duties to the Army, was punishment either by death, or. . .

    "By being bait," he finished silently to himself. Someone touched his shoulder, it was Lucius.

    "It's time," was all he said before silently shifting back into the fold of earth.

    Servius sighed and stood. Clutched in his hands were two farily large rocks, heavy enough to notice when hit, but light enough to still throw a good distance. Ahead of him the glint of steel and polished armor glared against the setting sun. He sighed again and started to jog forward. If he was going to do this, and not die because of it, he would have to be quick. He reached throwing distance and mid-stride, pulled back his arm and vaulted the rock in his left hand forward. His left foot came down and he spun, planting his right foot in front of him and then hurled the remaining rock forward with all his might.

    The way it would work, or at least, the way it should work, was that the first rock would land just in front of the rabbits and catch their attention, just as the second rock barreled into one of the five bodies. His first rocks spent, Servius ground himself to a halt and cupped his hands to his mouth.

    "Hey, cottontails!" He yelled as loud as he could. "You're mother was a hamster and your father was drunk when he fucked her!" He pulled another rock from his hip bag and hurled that toward the rabbits. "Catch me if you can, mother fuckers!" And then he spun sharply on his heel and ran in a zigzag pattern back the way he had come. Hopefully that was as much of an insult to get them royally pissed, as well as much of an assault to make them give chase.

    Servius didn't dare glance over his shoulder as he topped the fold and dove into the crease below.

    Out of Character:
    Plan is quite simple, get them mad and force them to give chase to the fleeing scout. When they top the rise they will face six of the ten legionaries, formed into a line, about three feet between each man. They will have their spears ready to throw and when they see each pursuing rabbit, one man will throw his spear and attempt to critically wound the rabbit. Each man will throw his spear at one rabbit, with one man held in reserve just in case another man misses, or a rabbit refuses to stay down. At that point, the four other legionaries and the one other scout, will rush in from the sides and will pin the rabbits with their spears, probably further wounding them. At that point the other six will rush forward, disarm those that still have weapons and then systematically break all the legs and arms of the rabbits. They will then pick the smallest rabbit to take as their prisoner and then kill the remaining four. They will then either gag the remaining rabbit, or break his jaw, depending on how bity he gets. Then they will carry him away on one of their shields before the next patrol can close with them.

    That is, if all goes well.

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