Aurrin sensed the rock before it actually hit. Not that he really needed any extra senses to foresee its arrival, really. The yelling of the man he'd pinned against the wall was more than enough to alert him to the return of one of the guards, and... well the result was not entirely unexpected. Disappointing -- he'd hoped for someone who valued life a bit more than that -- but not unexpected.
He turned around, and found himself facing the kit he'd sent on her way earlier. Only this time she had accessories: tears in her eyes spoke of sorrow, the grimace on her mouth spoke of anger, the white streaks orbiting about her spoke of power. More's the pity we couldn't have met on amicable terms. She has good potential...
"I don't suppose you'd want to talk about this?" he asked, more out of concern for her state than his own well being. Her face twisted in anger and concentration as the rocks became streaks of heat.
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plas
Deep in the tumbledown
The Music of the Spheres
As Aurrin gathered the plasma into a ball, an eerie flute-like sound reverberated through the air.
"She's fighting because we tell her to."
A female racconan approached the kit from the direction of east wall. She had a set of pipes in one hand; the other arm was in a makeshift sling. The newcomer walked calmly through the whirling debris, white-hot rocks barely missing her.
Lathe glanced behind her and stammered, "B-Berry?"
"Yeah," acknowledged Berry, pausing to look up and smile. "Hey, kid, could you use a back-up singer?"
In one swift, fluid motion, Berry was inside the inner shield. She nuzzled the kit, who now clung to her as if the old bard could somehow provide protection from the maelstrom. "Miss Berry's here, now," the bard spoke soothingly, then whispered something in the lev mage's ear. Lathe's expression immediately turned to one of shock and horror, then resigned defeat. "Now," Ms. Berry said, levelling her eyes at the ball of plasma, "let's take care of this little problem."
Ms. Berry didn't have much power of her own. She wasn't even a notably good bard. But, she was a bard.
The bard blew on her pipes. Berry caught Lathe's raw power, modulating it, amplifying it, directing it, altering it, shaping it. The bard first set up a simple p-mode vibration in the sphere of plasma, distorting it into an egg shape that gently rocked back and forth. Then, a simple superposition set the system spinning--Lathe was particularly good at making things spin. Berry pumped energy into the system to increase the distortion. Eventually, Berry assumed, the asymmetrical blob would start leaking or simply break up. However, the rapidly rotating mass actually cut into the magnetic fields confining it, draining energy from them and further heating the plasma. The "egg" started to expand. Berry paused for a moment as she noted this development, then began pouring energy into the system at an even greater rate.
In the mean time, Lathe had pulled the larger rocks around her into tighter, faster orbits. She wracked the walls with force, shattering them pulling off chunks to restock her ammunition.
All this effort was starting to wear her down, and she was beginning to feel sick. With Ms. Berry's help, at least, she didn't have to overdraw as much.
"She's fighting because we tell her to."
A female racconan approached the kit from the direction of east wall. She had a set of pipes in one hand; the other arm was in a makeshift sling. The newcomer walked calmly through the whirling debris, white-hot rocks barely missing her.
Lathe glanced behind her and stammered, "B-Berry?"
"Yeah," acknowledged Berry, pausing to look up and smile. "Hey, kid, could you use a back-up singer?"
In one swift, fluid motion, Berry was inside the inner shield. She nuzzled the kit, who now clung to her as if the old bard could somehow provide protection from the maelstrom. "Miss Berry's here, now," the bard spoke soothingly, then whispered something in the lev mage's ear. Lathe's expression immediately turned to one of shock and horror, then resigned defeat. "Now," Ms. Berry said, levelling her eyes at the ball of plasma, "let's take care of this little problem."
Ms. Berry didn't have much power of her own. She wasn't even a notably good bard. But, she was a bard.
The bard blew on her pipes. Berry caught Lathe's raw power, modulating it, amplifying it, directing it, altering it, shaping it. The bard first set up a simple p-mode vibration in the sphere of plasma, distorting it into an egg shape that gently rocked back and forth. Then, a simple superposition set the system spinning--Lathe was particularly good at making things spin. Berry pumped energy into the system to increase the distortion. Eventually, Berry assumed, the asymmetrical blob would start leaking or simply break up. However, the rapidly rotating mass actually cut into the magnetic fields confining it, draining energy from them and further heating the plasma. The "egg" started to expand. Berry paused for a moment as she noted this development, then began pouring energy into the system at an even greater rate.
In the mean time, Lathe had pulled the larger rocks around her into tighter, faster orbits. She wracked the walls with force, shattering them pulling off chunks to restock her ammunition.
All this effort was starting to wear her down, and she was beginning to feel sick. With Ms. Berry's help, at least, she didn't have to overdraw as much.
Last edited by CasVeg on Wed Aug 10, 2005 9:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
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StrangeWulf13
- Cartoon Hero
- Posts: 1433
- Joined: Thu Nov 06, 2003 9:03 pm
- Location: Frozen plains of North Dakota...
- Contact:
Strange Wulf materializes in a corner of the missionary away from the view of the door and most of the windows, almost as if he was always there. No one had heard him come in.
"I'm here, my friends. Just decided to check my messages is all." He shakes a small piece of jewelry with a blue stone set in it, smiling a little. "Nothing I wasn't expecting, really. Sharuuk is in the swamp, and close enough to the base to hear what's going on. He'll probably catch up to Bandit and the rest soon enough. And then he'll probably be going off to have a word with Aurrin. Hope he leaves a few pieces left..."
He smiles and yawns a little. "I hope you two have a way of getting to the swamp quickly. My options seem rather few at the moment. I can send a message to my daughter, but she'll take some time to get here. And the only other methods of quick transport I know of are not available, seeing as one is currently reducing the fortress to rubble at this moment. I'm open to suggestions."
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Erin gives a salute to Sharuuk, ignoring the stares and odd looks being given to her by the others. She's now in her usual form, minus her robe. Despite being stark naked amongst several males, she gives her report, acting as if everything is perfectly normal.
"Nothing much, sir. All crewmen who were on board at the time of the crash are dead. Not much cargo survived either. A few medical supplies, a bit of suspected contraband, and things that would turn most decent people a bright shade of red. He did call it a "pleasure palace" after all."
She's trying hard not to pay attention, but finally sighs and drops the salute, putting her hands on her hips and giving T-Bolt and Baran reproachful looks.
"Yes, I'm naked. I'm perfectly aware of it. But in case any of you has bad eyes, you should take a closer look--" She has to pause at the missionary's horrified yelp and the other Rac Conan's apologetic babbling. "...as I was saying, if you take a closer look, you'll find that there's nothing to look at. I have no 'naughty bits', so even if you wanted to look, there wouldn't be much to look at. So stop your idiotic staring and maybe we can get something useful done!"
Cheeks flushed, Erin turns on her heels and floats over to the other side of the crash and sitting down on the edge, sighing heavily. "Men..."
"I'm here, my friends. Just decided to check my messages is all." He shakes a small piece of jewelry with a blue stone set in it, smiling a little. "Nothing I wasn't expecting, really. Sharuuk is in the swamp, and close enough to the base to hear what's going on. He'll probably catch up to Bandit and the rest soon enough. And then he'll probably be going off to have a word with Aurrin. Hope he leaves a few pieces left..."
He smiles and yawns a little. "I hope you two have a way of getting to the swamp quickly. My options seem rather few at the moment. I can send a message to my daughter, but she'll take some time to get here. And the only other methods of quick transport I know of are not available, seeing as one is currently reducing the fortress to rubble at this moment. I'm open to suggestions."
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Erin gives a salute to Sharuuk, ignoring the stares and odd looks being given to her by the others. She's now in her usual form, minus her robe. Despite being stark naked amongst several males, she gives her report, acting as if everything is perfectly normal.
"Nothing much, sir. All crewmen who were on board at the time of the crash are dead. Not much cargo survived either. A few medical supplies, a bit of suspected contraband, and things that would turn most decent people a bright shade of red. He did call it a "pleasure palace" after all."
She's trying hard not to pay attention, but finally sighs and drops the salute, putting her hands on her hips and giving T-Bolt and Baran reproachful looks.
"Yes, I'm naked. I'm perfectly aware of it. But in case any of you has bad eyes, you should take a closer look--" She has to pause at the missionary's horrified yelp and the other Rac Conan's apologetic babbling. "...as I was saying, if you take a closer look, you'll find that there's nothing to look at. I have no 'naughty bits', so even if you wanted to look, there wouldn't be much to look at. So stop your idiotic staring and maybe we can get something useful done!"
Cheeks flushed, Erin turns on her heels and floats over to the other side of the crash and sitting down on the edge, sighing heavily. "Men..."
Aurrin scowled darkly at this latest turn of events.
"So, the crime boss of the Rac'cona lures childern to fight for him? I'm disappointed. I'd at least hoped for someone honorable."
Aurrin noticed that they began to push against the plasma ball, trying to set vibrations into motion that would distort it and eventually break the containment he had made.
So you want to bring the genie out to play, do you? I'll give you plasma...
With a flourish that was admittedly partially for show, he suddenly increased the field strength a hundredfold, snuffing out the vibrations that were being induced. idiots... have you no idea what would have happened to you had it broken? So, he decided to take a moment and show them the true nature of the powers they were dealing with.
He backed away and brought the ball of plasma closer, until it now stood between them, in the center of the room. And into it, he poured energy of a massive scale. The plasma heated, and the field squeezed, tighter and tighter until the ball shone like unto the sun itself.
And then the stripped atoms began to bounce...
The ball seemed to erupt in a light brighter than one would have thought possible, as the fusion reactions began. The walls stood in sillhouette, the entire courtyard bathed in a horrific light that was brighter than the sunlight from above.
Don't toy with me.
This time, the voice rang inside the head of the older Rac'conan as well as Aurrin's. Though normally limited to contact telepathy, Aurrin sometimes would boost it with the gem he wore to allow him to reach inside the mind of another at a distance.
I could have leveled this place and taken what I wished had I so chosen. I did not solely out of concern for the lives of those who inhabit it. You tempt me to reconsider at your own peril.
Only after Aurrin had walked down the brightly-lit staircase to the basement did a portal open inside the sphere to exhaust its contents into the vacuum of space...
"So, the crime boss of the Rac'cona lures childern to fight for him? I'm disappointed. I'd at least hoped for someone honorable."
Aurrin noticed that they began to push against the plasma ball, trying to set vibrations into motion that would distort it and eventually break the containment he had made.
So you want to bring the genie out to play, do you? I'll give you plasma...
With a flourish that was admittedly partially for show, he suddenly increased the field strength a hundredfold, snuffing out the vibrations that were being induced. idiots... have you no idea what would have happened to you had it broken? So, he decided to take a moment and show them the true nature of the powers they were dealing with.
He backed away and brought the ball of plasma closer, until it now stood between them, in the center of the room. And into it, he poured energy of a massive scale. The plasma heated, and the field squeezed, tighter and tighter until the ball shone like unto the sun itself.
And then the stripped atoms began to bounce...
The ball seemed to erupt in a light brighter than one would have thought possible, as the fusion reactions began. The walls stood in sillhouette, the entire courtyard bathed in a horrific light that was brighter than the sunlight from above.
Don't toy with me.
This time, the voice rang inside the head of the older Rac'conan as well as Aurrin's. Though normally limited to contact telepathy, Aurrin sometimes would boost it with the gem he wore to allow him to reach inside the mind of another at a distance.
I could have leveled this place and taken what I wished had I so chosen. I did not solely out of concern for the lives of those who inhabit it. You tempt me to reconsider at your own peril.
Only after Aurrin had walked down the brightly-lit staircase to the basement did a portal open inside the sphere to exhaust its contents into the vacuum of space...
Lathe moved to persue Aurrin but Berry held her back. "No. Let's get out of here. . .now."
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Several healers, along with their patients, had escaped from the fort. Rayne's body was jostled as he was lowered into a boat with several injured soldiers, a couple bards, and a young biomancer named Sarin.
--------
Mr. Big swam through the underwater tunnel generally used by the gragum. It hadn't taken him long to realize the implications of the destruction of the east wall. He wasted no time giving the orders to evacuate.
Mr. Big would invoke a time-honored technique for dealing with superior forces: Grab what you can; burn the rest; and, run like hell. Many of the best items in the treasury and main armory had been hastily handed off to his men. Most were already running--or swimming--through the swamp; they would regroup later. Mr. Big, himself, had stripped down and taken a bundle of random items to prevent himself from being singled out. A few remaining men would detonate the treasury and main armory and the storage rooms in each of the seven remaining towers. Then, the fort itself would be reduced to rubble. The only thing that would be left intact would be the generator. After things settled down, he could return and rebuild.
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The soldier made the final adjustments and activated the detonater. He ran. He ran out of the treasury and into the basement hallways. He ran to the opening to the underwater passageways. He dove to safety and, for lack of a better term, kept on running.
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There were sixteen racconans in the underwater room that housed the geothermal generator. The water was warm and murky. Air could be pumped in when necessary; but, there was no need--or time--for that now. And racconans can hold their breath for a while.
The racconans formed a circle of eight pairs that surrounded the top of the generator. Norran, an old street wizard, lead the group. Opposite him was Pyrrhic, a powerful wizard with sadistic tendencies. The spell that would destroy the fort was a variant of one that Pyrrhic wrote. On either side of Phyrric were the lev mages Antigar and Revhis. To Norrans's right was the wind mage Seyleen and to his left the fire mage Ashwyn--both survivers of the recent luftship crash. Two engineers filled out the last two positions between on either side of the generator between Pyrrhic and Norran. Eight bards, one paired with each wizard, would synchronize and modulate the activities of the others.
They would reprogram the walls.
The engineers diverted all power to the fortress walls while shutting off the current warding spells. Norran and the lev mages set up a barrier to contain the fortress. Pyrrhic and Seyleen, with some help from Antigar, stripped oxygen from the atmosphere and pulled it down into the fort. The concentrated oxygen quickly permeated every available space and even pooled around the metal reinforcements inside the structure itself. Pyrrhic and Ashwyn superheated the oxygen and any metal it contacted.
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Several healers, along with their patients, had escaped from the fort. Rayne's body was jostled as he was lowered into a boat with several injured soldiers, a couple bards, and a young biomancer named Sarin.
--------
Mr. Big swam through the underwater tunnel generally used by the gragum. It hadn't taken him long to realize the implications of the destruction of the east wall. He wasted no time giving the orders to evacuate.
Mr. Big would invoke a time-honored technique for dealing with superior forces: Grab what you can; burn the rest; and, run like hell. Many of the best items in the treasury and main armory had been hastily handed off to his men. Most were already running--or swimming--through the swamp; they would regroup later. Mr. Big, himself, had stripped down and taken a bundle of random items to prevent himself from being singled out. A few remaining men would detonate the treasury and main armory and the storage rooms in each of the seven remaining towers. Then, the fort itself would be reduced to rubble. The only thing that would be left intact would be the generator. After things settled down, he could return and rebuild.
--------
The soldier made the final adjustments and activated the detonater. He ran. He ran out of the treasury and into the basement hallways. He ran to the opening to the underwater passageways. He dove to safety and, for lack of a better term, kept on running.
--------
There were sixteen racconans in the underwater room that housed the geothermal generator. The water was warm and murky. Air could be pumped in when necessary; but, there was no need--or time--for that now. And racconans can hold their breath for a while.
The racconans formed a circle of eight pairs that surrounded the top of the generator. Norran, an old street wizard, lead the group. Opposite him was Pyrrhic, a powerful wizard with sadistic tendencies. The spell that would destroy the fort was a variant of one that Pyrrhic wrote. On either side of Phyrric were the lev mages Antigar and Revhis. To Norrans's right was the wind mage Seyleen and to his left the fire mage Ashwyn--both survivers of the recent luftship crash. Two engineers filled out the last two positions between on either side of the generator between Pyrrhic and Norran. Eight bards, one paired with each wizard, would synchronize and modulate the activities of the others.
They would reprogram the walls.
The engineers diverted all power to the fortress walls while shutting off the current warding spells. Norran and the lev mages set up a barrier to contain the fortress. Pyrrhic and Seyleen, with some help from Antigar, stripped oxygen from the atmosphere and pulled it down into the fort. The concentrated oxygen quickly permeated every available space and even pooled around the metal reinforcements inside the structure itself. Pyrrhic and Ashwyn superheated the oxygen and any metal it contacted.
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Kerry Skydancer
- Cartoon Hero
- Posts: 1346
- Joined: Sun Oct 24, 2004 6:03 pm
- Location: Bethlehem PA
- Contact:
The com-link filled with alarmed high-pitched chittering for a moment before the bat got himself under control. "We've got explosions, don't seem to be doing much damage, though. A lot of the locals abandoning the structure. Can't tell who they all are, if anyone's a high-up he's disguised himself." He paused as the fortress walls trembled again, another burst of explosions wracking the building for a moment. "Bozhemoi. Someone's definitely getting frisky in there." He continued to orbit, watching the fleeing Rac'conans and grimacing at the rising sun. It was only a matter of time before someone saw him, even with the obscuring fogs, and he was no hawk to spiral up and ride the thermals while watching the ground from a mile high.