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Of Gods, Monsters and Men...Prologue


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#21 Darkender

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Posted 11 January 2013 - 09:05 PM

Noooooo!

#22 Pseudonym

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Posted 11 January 2013 - 09:20 PM

Writing about... your real life? Huh, I hope that goes well, man. I'd be really interested in reading it.

#23 Darkender

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Posted 11 January 2013 - 10:19 PM

Yeah, I do hope you decide to give us all a peek of that too.

#24 treacherous

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 02:38 PM

*breathes deep* 

 

May be picking this back up soon.  I don't feel justified getting into the updated FPL without completing this first.



#25 Sincere Poet

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 03:10 PM

May be picking this back up soon.  I don't feel justified getting into the updated FPL without completing this first.

 

:D



#26 Darkender

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 09:43 PM

Eeeeeee!



#27 treacherous

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Posted 03 May 2013 - 10:41 AM

Okay, I am writing this.  I think I'm going to eventually have this upcoming super-battle spread out into the world.  So if people want to create fictions and spotlight their characters revolving around this upcoming thingy, feel free when I get to that point. 

 

I also need to touch up some parts of this.  Some of it is just badly written to me.  I tend to rush when my time is limited.



#28 treacherous

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Posted 03 May 2013 - 11:06 PM

The Children of Sayang

 

The pirate Rogers galloped along at a brisk pace to keep speed with Percy who was moving briskly through the lower decks of the airship of Sayang.  Striding with the confidence of a man who knew the world would change to suit him; Percy made his way to the former laboratories of the crypto zoologist, Dr. Odierno.  At length as they trod, a blood curdling shriek filled the air.  It was followed by a bestial roar.  Like dogs calling out to one another at night, dozens of muddled cries filled the air.  Percy smiled from ear to ear as they stepped into a massive room filled with open cells.  “We are here bold, Capt. Rogers.”  The pirate-like homeless man shuffled frontward and peeked out through the eye slits of his mask.  The dark corridor held nothing but the bleak darkness and the baying of creatures untold.  “Aye, Mr. Percy, but where in bloody ‘ell is ‘ere.”  Percy smiled and pulled a matchbook from his pocket.  Casually, he lit the match and held it against the darkness. 

 

“Aaaaaiiieeee!!!!” Screamed Rogers, briefly coming out of character as the flickering light cast upon the murk revealed a sight perhaps never seen before.  Within the gloom were nightmarish creatures of all shapes and sizes.  Blood and carcasses littered the ground, beasts leapt, flew and slithered from cell to cell as others attacked and mauled one another.  Menacing bat-like creatures hung from ceilings, while garish pools of whirling sentient mists wisped through the air.  But worst of all, was the fact that now all of them were focused on the small flickering light in the hands of Marshell Percy. 

 

Old Roger began to shake violently.  Feeling his horror, the ship also began to tremble.  Percy grinned as several of the creatures began to slowly approach their new prey.  “Hmm…” He said, “Perhaps I should’ve been feeding them after I released them?”  Rogers’ fits began to double.  He backed behind Percy who held the light out assuredly.  Percy grabbed Roger by the neck, “Well don’t just stand there boy… Release them out into the night.  I’m sure they’d like a bite to eat.”

 

No sooner than said, a writhing thing appeared from nowhere, screaming as it charged towards the pair.  Likewise, several frog-headed creatures with humanoid bodies leapt at the new prey.  Quickly, Rogers began to mumble incoherently into the air.  His voice carried above the noise.  The walls of the ship acted instantly and created a barrier between the duo and the beasts.  Next, an opening appeared below the creatures and began to spread.  One by one and also in groups, the horrors fell to the Earth below and unto a rousing battlefield.  Their eyes took in their new surroundings and quickly saw what they desperately needed -- food.  In the distance, soldiers fought valiantly against the dark galleon.  Correspondingly, the monsters sprang into action as soon as they eyed the long-awaited meals.

 

Howling, gurgling and roaring, the worst of the hungry beasts flooded the battlefield in an opening salvo.  Moments later, cautiously exiting behind them were the minions of the terrorist organization known as the Children of Sayang.  However the Children did not follow the beasts, but made a beeline straight to the SLJ bases taking great care not to distract the hungry, mindless monsters from the Spire.  What they didn’t avoid however were the soldiers; the poor hapless soldiers.

 

In the Children’s and the beast’s wake, the screams of the dying filled the night.

 

Sweaty, blond hair fell in clumps over the face of Marshell Percy; his eyes hidden under the matted tresses.  He breathed in deeply and his chest heaved as he surveyed the battle below from the ship that was the Chaos Spire with a smirk.   “Exquisite.” He said to no one in particular.  However, several within his inner circle of the Actors Guild stood near him acquiescing dutifully.  Sir Angelo Oldcastle, Sheryl Quimby, Richard Von Pelt and the Talbains encircled the enamored Percy in a perfectly geometric formation.  Meanwhile, the sounds of Old Roger bellowing orders to the ship could be heard in the background as the booming explosions of cannon fire rang from the decks. 

 

Percy unclasped his hands from the railing of the pirate ship that had landed in the chill Gobi Mountain region.  He took a few steps back into the circle of followers that surrounded him.  “Come my children, it is time.”  He smirked and sat cross-legged on the floor.  The Actors Guild followed suit submissively, without hesitation.  “Our spy within the Fallen tells me that the conjurers are almost in place.  Once the four Fallen sorcerers have completed their invocation and the rest of the Children arrive at their destination, all will be in order or shall I say disorder.  The Fallen shall not have this day, for this day belongs to the Children of Sayang… 

 

Let there be disharmony.”

 

In unison, the Actors Guild repeated the words.  “Let there be disharmony.” And all in attendance began to chant in unison.  

 

Next up: Wally and Dayshift fights for their life, F.O.E. completes their mission, Trickster and the remaining members of Dayshift join the fight and!!!

 

Enter the Alpha Sentinels!!



#29 treacherous

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Posted 04 May 2013 - 07:46 PM

Okay, what do you want to see next.  I can't decide.  The Children of Sayang vs. F.O.E. or Dayshift vs. Dr. Odierno's Cryptids (Which will be filled with beasties from Psuedonym's Bestiary.



#30 Pseudonym

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Posted 04 May 2013 - 08:06 PM

If you want to bring F.O.E. into relevance, do them first. Else, Cryptids.



#31 treacherous

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Posted 04 May 2013 - 09:15 PM

Okay, first request.  Also, I'm adding links to characters for those who have no idea what's going on and I'll probably merge all the story portions to the first post at some point.



#32 Darkender

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Posted 04 May 2013 - 09:22 PM

Nice. The FOE needs to see the light of day so I can write up Trace.



#33 Sincere Poet

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Posted 05 May 2013 - 01:16 PM

Yeah, I need to get Artificial Reaper up too, though he's going to need to basically be completely remade with all of the new changes lol



#34 treacherous

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Posted 06 May 2013 - 07:05 PM

Spoiler Alert!!!
 
This is next
 

Spoiler



#35 treacherous

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Posted 08 May 2013 - 07:21 PM

F.O.E. vs. Sayang

 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Knox mumbled over his headpiece.  Pagan and Rothchild exchanged proud glances as they received rare praise from the gruff, former sergeant.  “Good job, boys and girls.  I just knew a few of you were going to get tagged in this; looks like you’re made of sterner stuff.  Okay then, if all four of the sorcerers are in place, prepare for hot extraction.  We got fast moving Sentinels inbound.”

 

“What about the spellbinders?  Someone should stay behind and protect them?”  Pagan interjected.

 

“Those freakniks can take care of themselves.  Now MOVE MOVE MOVE!”

 

The team did just that.  Without haste, Rothchild turned to the group, “You heard the man, let’s go.”  Pagan let out a quick triumphant shout only to be shut down by an evil glance by Trace.  “Spoil sport.” She whispered aloud, “Guys don’t know how to have fun.”  Rothchild interrupted, already in motion, “They’ll be plenty of time for celebration later.  For now, we haul ass like the man said.”  In that, the team took off in the direction of their arrival for extraction. 

 

Minutes later from exiting base four, the team could visualize base three in the distance as the sun began to peak over the horizon.  “Faster gang, we’re losing the cover of night.” Rothchild yelled.  Staying as far away from the ongoing battle neighboring them, the team stuck to the base of the mountain like glue.  They rounded the corner of base three when a screeching shriek echoed ahead of them.  They continued without pause until Pagan shouted, “Where’s Jet?” She stopped on a dime, “Hold up everybody!  Where’s Jet Cat!?!”  At this point, they did pause.  No sooner than stopped, a pale streak flew through the feet of the team.  Jet Cat screeched in horror as it ran and leaped onto the shoulders of Pagan.  Baring its teeth, the cat hissed furiously.

 

“What is it baby?” She said, stroking the cat’s fur.  Without pause, the cat leapt into the air.  Swishing sounds filled the air as the cat released several incendiary missiles into the impending fog.  The team readied themselves for any incoming attack as they had quickly learned to trust the cat’s instincts.  Fiery explosions lit up the fog ahead.  There was nothing there in the illuminated dawn.  In the night, the sound would’ve given away their stealthy positions, but with the rumbling of the mountain and the sounds of nearby battle, Jet Cat’s explosions were barely audible.  Rothchild turned to Pagan, “Lift the fog quickly.  When I give the word, I want everybody who can to fire another volley on anything that moves.”  Icarus stepped forward, crouched in preparation.  His hands began to glow with energy.  Likewise, the Artificial Reaper’s tendrils began to grow and incline forward menacingly. 

 

For what seemed like minutes, nothing happened.  Then an ominous unnatural mist began to rise around the team.  “Pagan… I said lower the fog.”  She looked confused as her head surveyed the encroaching mist.  “Um…that’s not me.”  The fog thickened when suddenly, Rothchild disappeared from within it, “Get out of there now!” He screamed as he exited the mist with lightning quickness.  The others followed suit as quick as they could.  “Holy…” Pagan reacted as a demonic head begin to materialize in the thick of the dark, billowy mist.  As they rolled, back away and leapt from it, the fog seemed to lash out at their escaping figures.  As soon as he was free, Icarus turned, his hands emblazoned.  “No!” Rothchild shouted, “Look!” He pointed forward and the group caught wind of Trace still trapped within the mist.  Within, Trace coughed and his eyes watered as a massive fanged jaw began to envelope his head from behind.  “Reaper!” Rothchild yelled and gestured towards Trace. 

 

The Artificial Reaper snarled as if hesitant to help, but quickly sent his tendrils careening into the mist.  Trace struggled to find his footing and swung his knife blindly at the translucent presence he felt within the murkiness.  The demon began to bite down when suddenly, the tendrils wrapped themselves around Trace and began to pull him free.  The creature returned the favor and tugged back; its slightly materialized claws ripping into Trace’s flesh.  He screamed in pain as his body was pulled in both directions.  Suddenly, a bright red flash swathed the monster.  It let out a shriek and rapidly, its lucid form slunk away.  Icarus continued to send blasts in its direction until it was completely gone. 

 

Trace fell to the ground clutching the slightly bleeding scrapes on his side as the team stood in a circle around him.  “What in the hell was that?” Pagan said.  “Whatever it was, we don’t have time to—“Before he could finish a horrible cluster of screams, yelps and wails filled the air.  The team couldn’t react, before they were assailed from every side.  From behind, Reaper was sent flailing forward by an invisible push.  His body jerked awkwardly as he landed hard against the ground.  Recovering quickly, he hissed and sprang around like a cat.  Before him stood a young man smiling hideously, strange gangly arms flailed around his body as if completely unattached to it.  “Who dares?”  Reaper breathed angrily.  “The Artist dares.  Are you prepared to become my newest work of art?”  He laughed, “Who am I kidding?  It doesn’t matter if you are or not.”  Reaper roared and charged forward.  The Artist’s grin turned Cheshire as he braced for the attack.

 

In like manner, battles sprung up all around the ring of villains.  The mist-like Wraith returned the favor in kind as it coiled around the lanky Icarus who had previously sent it retreating with his energy blasts.  Breaking through the chaos, the load roar of a motorcycle engine filled the air.  “Hope you made your peace brother…” Rothchild barely rolls away as a bat nearly takes off his head.  “Cause Nomad is gonna send you straight to hell.”  The biker circles sharp as Rothchild backs up to get distance between the two.  With a spin out of his tire, Nomad storms forward for another pass waving the bat wildly.  His attack is halted abruptly as Nomad is forcefully tackled from his bike.  The biker fumes as he looks up to see Trace rolling to his feet, waving his hand for Nomad to attack.

 

High above the melee, Jet Cat targets a lone figure standing slightly away from the battle.  Its ballistic systems click into position as it prepares to fire… when out of nowhere, “Hello kitty.” A small spritely little girl appears right before the cat’s eyes.  The cat looks puzzled as her dragonfly –like wings flutter rapidly.   With a coy smile, she looks at the mechanized cat in amazement in her eyes.  “You’re a @#$ up piece of work, aren’t you?  The cat bares her teeth and claws, hissing in return.  Obliviously ignoring the threat, Absinthe glances at the cat’s mechanics.  “Ooh shiny.” She says, and then zips away.  “Come and get me.”  Leaving a dull, emerald glowing trail, she zooms off with the cat in full pursuit. 

 

Pagan watches helplessly as her cat flies too high to visualize.  She turns her attention to one of the many fights, to see a young girl standing in front of her.  The girl’s murky clothes are tattered with holes, mismatched and a bit childish.  “And here I thought I cornered the market on Goth” Pagan said out loud.  The young girl’s moppish black hair covered her face, hiding her demeanor or reaction.  Despite this, Pagan heard a faint giggle.  The girl parted her hair with black tipped nails and looked at Pagan strangely.  She took measure of Pagan from head to toe with inquisitive eyes; taking in her knee-high boots and her halter-top.  She paused at Pagan’s hood and the tuft of black plumage adorning her neck.   Pagan pulled back to attack.  But the girl did not attack, but instead her eyes grew large.  She tilted her head like a dog and then her mouth dropped.  Confused, Pagan cried out to the girl.  “You just going to stand there being a complete weirdo or are we going to do this?”  The girl looked a bit perplexed.

 

“You’re not one of them.”  With the utterance of the words, Pagan’s face also grew perplexed.

 

“I mean you dress the part, but you’re not like them at all.” Ellie said.  “You have a secret, don’t you?”

 

Pagan’s eyes grew as large as eggs.  The girl smirked, “Oh wow.  That would make two of you.” She said.  Pagan furrowed her brows in confusion at the statement as the girl pointed over her shoulder at someone else in her group.  It was the Artificial Reaper.  Before Pagan could comprehend her meaning, “Oh well, doesn’t matter...”  Ellie said nonchalantly.  Behind the girl, the snarling, dripping and fuming auras of three of her companions all filled with furious bloodlust turned their attention to Pagan.  “I’ve got orders to take you down.  Sorry babe, nothing personal.”  No sooner said, than the massive auras of blood, red malice charge forward like wild animals towards Pagan.  “Oh s__t!”  She turns...

 

…and runs. 

 

As Rothchild struggles to help Trace fight Nomad, he catches a well-dressed figure out the corner of his eyes.  A man in a black suit stands calmly near the fourth base and watches him.  Rothchild grimaces with determination.  “You must be the leader.” He says under his breath.  Turning away from his current fight, he darts in the direction of the spectator.  Although a bit visibly shocked at the speed of the incoming Rothchild, Dr. Voodoo calmly strides through the base door close by.  As his body disappears into the entrance, his finger returns and curls repetitively, gesturing the leader of F.O.E. to follow.  Burning with anger at his provoker’s arrogance, Rothchild obliges.



#36 Darkender

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Posted 08 May 2013 - 08:11 PM

Ah, yes.



#37 Sincere Poet

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Posted 08 May 2013 - 09:09 PM

This is amazing, and may be the spark of inspiration I needed to get writing.

 

I stopped watching Star Trek just to read this bad boy!



#38 treacherous

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Posted 09 May 2013 - 12:18 PM

I don't know about amazing, but thanks.  Now I need to wrangle up a fight between Dayshift and the Cryptids.



#39 treacherous

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Posted 09 May 2013 - 12:52 PM

I wish I could just write this fiction full time and really put umph in it.  I have it all plotted out and there is a big revelation at the end that I can’t wait to get to.  Going to change Khazan forever (Or at least in my mind it will).



#40 treacherous

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Posted 14 May 2013 - 06:54 PM

Condensed the story into the first post.  All the updates will be in the first post from now on.






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