Post by Monday
((Storybook))A bright, white glow cut through the blackness as Korsin flicked on the spotlights attached on all sides of the walker, illuminating the ground around them for several dozen feet. The ground was rocky and moist, although firm enough that the walker’s legs didn’t sink more than a few inches each time it took a step. Above them and all around was complete blackness; however there was something in the air that made them think of unimaginable weight above their heads. “I don’t like this,” Ironbeard murmured, standing and starting for the stairs. “I’m goin’ to keep a watch with Gorgron.”
“Alright,” Korsin nodded vaguely, more concerned with keeping the walker moving and not sinking into the sand. Ironbeard passed through the hold, where Walker and Avery sat in prayer. Forndar was absent, most likely already on the top deck. Ironbeard grabbed his rifle from where it lay against the wall and strode up the stairs. The air above, moist and incredibly cold, assaulted his nostrils. Gorgron nodded from where he stood, and Forndar waved cheerily, leaning against the rail.
“A bright lot, we are,” Ironbeard said, joining Gorgron. “While the scenery leaves much to be desired, we don’t have to give in to boredom! We can do it!”
“Quiet,” Gorgron rumbled, but struggled to contain a smile. “I need quiet on my deathbed, for surely I shall die of inaction long before we reach our destination.”
“Shush, ye two,” Forndar said, not looking away from the darkness around them. “While I appreciate th’ attempts at levity, this ain’t th’ place.” Both sobered after hearing his words, and Ironbeard nodded gravely, moving over to lean next to Forndar.
“What’s out there?” he asked. “Do you feel anything?” He left the other question unsaid
How dangerous is it?Forndar gave a shrug. “I can hardly feel anythin’ down ‘ere. The water is… foul, corrupt, and it covers everythin’. The sand, the stones, evaporated in th’ air, everythin’. It presses on me head and sinks into me clothes. Ugh.” Shaking his head, Forndar sighed and muttered to himself, then said, “I don’t want to extend me senses anymore than this. Anythin’ else might drive me insane.”
“I agree,” Gorgron said, “I’m doing the same. Extending my senses any farther is a good way to drive oneself crazy.”
“Then it’s up to Korsin to watch ahead,” Ironbeard said, slightly mournfully, as he stared out over the blackness. “I can’t see worth a damn in this blackness, and me scope isn’t gonna help.”
“Aye,” Gorgron nodded in agreement, “It’s up to Korsin.”
Inside the cockpit, Korsin sat in the pilot’s chair, swearing profusely under his breath. The walker’s top right foot started to sink into the sand. Spitting another oath, Korsin pulled that leg out and aimed the next one for a rock. “Damn bloody sand not knowing how deep it can be damn bloody sand,” was about the only intelligible thing he said, the rest being lost in a tide of grumbles as he pulled yet another leg from deep sand and pressed it into a less deep patch.
“IRONBEARD!” he roared. The other dwarf stumbled down the stairs and into the cockpit.
“What is it?” he panted, glancing left and right.
“Watch the sand ahead of me,” Korsin said, maneuvering past a puddle that would most likely sink the walker as a whole. “Look for deep pits so I can steer around them.”
“… Isn’t that yer job?” Ironbeard asked, half-jokingly.
“DAMMIT IRONBEARD! I’M A PILOT, NOT A TRACKER!”
“Sir!” Ironbeard barked, quailing under Korsin’s gaze, and moved over to the window.
Outside, Gorgron and Forndar heard the yelling. Gorgron started to chuckle, and even Forndar’s grim façade cracked slightly as he smiled. The smile was wiped from his face the next instant however. “Something approaches,” he hissed to Gorgron. “Be ready.” The dwarf shaman held out a hand, and fire sprung to life around it. The fire was bright and crackled merrily, but did little to disturb the gloom.
Gorgron, on the other hand, brought his mace up in one hand. Calling the elements down, he lifted ever so slightly off of the metal deck, although he stayed at the same speed of the walker. “What do you feel?” he muttered to the other shaman.
He shrugged and kept a wary eye about. “I dunnae. But it’s – BLOOD AND FIRE!” To the side of the walker, a huge worm burst from the ground and into the air, then spun towards them. It was huge, around five feet in diameter, and the front was a mass of spinning red teeth and flesh. “No eyes!” roared Forndar. He pushed his hand forward, and the small spark on it erupted into a cloud of flames that blackened the flesh of the worm. A disgusting hissing noise issued forth from the blackened sections, which started to curl and peel away.
Gorgron, in the meantime, gathered wind about himself and jumped forward with a roar. He drew lightning into his hands and loosed it down the creature’s throat and smacked a tooth with his mace as he went by, cracking it and letting forth a small stream of clear fluid. It flailed for a moment, then rushed at Gorgron, knocking him from the air and back onto the deck.
“WORM!” roared Ironbeard, pointing out a side window as the creature burst from the sand.
Korsin worked madly at his controls, attempting to keep the walker on track. “There’s nothing I can do about it! The ground is getting unstable, fast.” He slammed a fist on the button to start up the automatic guns. “Grab Avery, Walker and yerself and get to the sentry guns. The rocker ones, ye hear, not the others.” His cultured accent, which he had worked to maintain throughout everything they had done, had started to slip.
Ironbeard noticed this and swallowed silently in fear. He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed. “Sir!” Turning, he exited the command pit, beckoning to Avery and Walker.
The creature thrust its head forward again, aiming for one of the legs of the walker. Forndar let loose another blast of fire, but the thing ignored it and pressed closer. Just in time, a golden shield flared to life around the machine. The worm’s head smashed into the bubble of light, and it pulled back, hissing in pain and rage. It’s face was now thoroughly disfigured, blackened and smashed in.
Gorgron turned slightly. Walker had strode onto the deck, and now held a hand aloft. Light shone from it, and the bubble pulsed in time with the Light shining from his hands. “I can’t shield you,” he said calmly to the shaman. “You’ll have to shield yourself, or kill it.”
No sooner had he said that, then the worm’s long, slender body bucked in agony. Four missiles had fired from the depths of the walker, blowing away chunks of wormflesh and fluids.
Inside the walker, Ironbeard chuckled, though the sound was lost amidst the hissing of gasses and the sound of whirring metal as his gun refilled itself. In his hand was a small box, with a small stick poking out the top, which he maneuvered. It produced a similar reaction from the gun in front of him, which was mounted on a tripod, bolted to the floor. Two chainguns sprouted from the sides, and the quadrocket launcher was attached to the top. He whistled merrily as he fired again, launching four spiraling rockets into the abyss.
Maybe we aren’t so doomed after all…Next to him stood Avery, working an identical copy of his gun, although not with the same level of finesse as Ironbeard. While Ironbeard was whistling and laughing as though this was a day at the fair, Avery was absolutely focused, keeping hold of his device with a firm hand.
“Can’t say I ever thought I’d see this,” remarked Ironbeard. “A priest usin’ a machine that launches explosives to kill a gigantic worm. Seems ridiculous now that I think about it.” Avery just shook his head, opting to keep his attention on the threat outside. Ironbeard chuckled and launched another set of rockets, only to miss as the walker lurched to the side to avoid a sinkhole.
Gorgron had pulled another mace and held both in his hand, then staggered and nearly fell as the machine groaned and moved to the side. The creature was obviously beyond pain. All it needed now was a blow to finish it off. The thing hissed, a highpitched shrieking noise, and lurched at the walker. Forndar launched a blast of fire at it, which caused it to turn slightly aside.
There. Gorgron jumped forward as the head moved towards him and gathered lightning around his maces. As it slid by, Gorgron stabbed both maces into the top of its head. The wormflesh split underneath his weapons and the lightning rushed from them in an explosion of elemental fury. The thing twitched once and continued its slide. The back end of the worm exited the sand and slid over the walker to flop into disgusting coils on the other side.
The walker marched on, leaving its foe coiled and dead behind it as the spires, decayed, dead and colored a sickly blue and violet, rose before them.
“There it is,” Ironbeard whispered. He had put away the remote, somewhat reluctantly, and returned to the pilot’s cabin. “Our target. And th’ High Demon.”
Korsin nodded seriously from where he sat. “Aye. One wonders, though, whether that’s our true target. The creatures we fought before seemed to have been servants of the Old Gods. Why is the High Demon suddenly our foe? It makes no sense.”
“Well, the Old Gods didn’t have a hand in Ironforge,” Ironbeard said, scratching his beard in thought. “It was the demons from the Dark Below.”
“It’s just so confusing,” Korsin sighed, steering them out of the path of a truly huge boulder. “Why are all these things coming together now, and yet they hate each other? Hell, even Vas’karaz said the Legion don’t want either group to win.”
“None of them want each other to win,” Ironbeard replied quietly. “And they won’t. We will prevail, and return the land to what it once was. You have my word.”
Korsin turned slightly; meeting the eyes of the other dwarf, then nodded curtly and turned his gaze back to the terrain in front of them. “I believe you.”
Ironbeard inclined his head and sat down.
But do I believe myself?”
