Warsman

@darkchild:

I seriously can't do much else with that. I'm sorry.

@azure_son: @shanana:

The orc bowed his head out of reverence for his Court leader. To be honest, he would not be surprised if she did not recognize him as the Red Bishop. Regardless, he returned to his normal posture with a purpose in his hulking physique.

"My queen, please call an emergency meeting of the Red Court."

Not really in the mood to post anything huge.

A tiny RP to set off a huge series of events.

@_drake: @reaver_:

*skipping about a week into the future*

"Ugh, wh-what?"

Only a week at sea and shipwrecked again. What luck! At least she didn't have any crewmates this...wait, sh!t.

Seo would have gotten up if not for the straps on her throat that brought her right back down. She started to flail around, but her wrists and ankles were locked too.

"What the f*ck is going on?! Where am I, some perv's torture shack? Did...DID DRAKE PUT YOU UP TO THIS?!"

A few worried voices surrounded her, attached to concerned faces. "N-no, we found you on the beach and - "

A quick slap to the face brought that side of the argument to an abrupt end. But...a slap from what? Seo looked down at her left arm, the arm she lost the first time she was at sea. An open, robotic hand greeted her and the little inquisitive adventurer in her squealed with excitement. She always wanted a robot arm! SO AWESOME! Squeezing it into a fist, she noticed that the arm had enough strength in its circuits to tear off the thick bands keeping her down. At once, she leaped off the operating table and lowered her fist, ready to fight.

"Bullsh!t! You guys were just testing some fancy biotech on me and figured I wouldn't wake up. Thanks for the gear, losers! I'm going to break all of you in half now,"

"N-no wait, you don't understand!"

"Oh yeah? And what don't I understand?"

"You passed through the maelstrom surrounding our island, and landed ashore after your ship ran aground. We are repairing it in one of our workshops, and your friends are all throughout the village. There is nothing to worry about,"

Seo just realized she was talking to a bunch of talking eight-foot-tall gas-mask-wearing rain ponchos. None of them had any distinguishable organic features, and showed no body parts other than the shape of thick shoulders and a small head on each of them. She became pacified upon hearing their story.

"Oh. Well in that case, sorry about hitting somebody,"

"That was me..." a muffled grunt from behind her.

"Anyway, what is this place Mr. Exposition?"

Momentarily confused by his abrupt nickname, the apparent leader of the village - or hut, or whatever - sighed contentedly. "My name is Oz. This is a village on Happy Island, home of the greatest amusement park on Earth - or it would be if anyone came. Instead, it is used as a scientific compound for Mister Oh. I don't know where he came from, but he landed here one day from the sky and took everything over. He kidnaps our children and tortures them in his labs, trying to make super soldiers. We were hoping for help, and now here you are! Heroes from beyond the maelstrom!"

Seo felt a bead of sweat run down the back of her neck.

"Uh, yeah, sure, heroes..." she felt sick.

"I need to discuss this with my crew."

Tiny intros are the best.

We are all bound by the decisions we make. What will be your destiny?

---

The shamans were quiet.

Smoke washed over the moon, bathing them in a shroud of darkness amidst the glowing embers of the bonfire. The woods were harvested long ago, stored and dried, for the very occasion. The spirits needed to be calm in order to have a clear thought process. This was perhaps their most important summoning, the moment at which the fate of worlds would be decided. A juncture that could never be ignored.

But, the shamans were quiet.

The spirits spoke to them, in all of their elemental fury and wisdom. Fire, Earth, Wind, Water. Their voices, despite having been prepared for and given admirable accommodations, were worrisome. Each word whispered into the ears of the orc-lords shuddered with an inaudible fear. They were not afraid of the war. The war existed as inevitable, something they could not change.

"They're frightened, Gorrok," Logash murmured in the night. His wolf helm followed his face as he craned to look at his warchief through his gnarled back.

"Of what?" the noble orc replied. Normally, the spirits offered guidance. Tonight they seemed to invite disaster instead.

Logash hesitated, and Gorrok understood. To have the elemental lords stop their quarreling and come together was no easy task. To have them agree was even more difficult. But to have all of them unsure of what to do next, even being as warlike and vicious as they were, stood as a monument to the weight of the task at hand.

"They say we will not win," Logash confirmed Gorrok's suspicions. "They say it is impossible,"

Gorrok handled the news rather well. His strength kept him standing when all hope left his body, and his will of iron did not diminish in the face of this intolerable heat bubbling inside of his heart. Fear? Anger? A mixture of both, swirling together. A raw emotion without a name. One that very few could challenge on the spot and win. Gorrok was not one of those. He knew firsthand how powerful Warsman and his empire were. To ignore this fact only meant destruction.

"The Iron Dawn is rising, Logash," he said at last, breaking the uneasy silence between him and his shaman-lords. They all affixed their hooded gazes upon their warchief, unsure of what to do as the images of the elemental manifestations disappeared into the nether.

"And we will meet it with the resolve of Steel and Hellfire. Open a portal to Spain. The Red Queen and I have much to discuss, and a Court to rally."

@shanana