[HD] "Wicked Lake of Fire" Travel (Day 2-)
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Strazio watched from a nearby hill as his soldiers made their way across the open plains. It was an agonizingly slow process he had decided. It was like watching a brightly colored caterpillar slowly inch along a leaf. To be fair, he had never traveled in a group larger than a handful, let alone an entire army. Where he would be allowed the luxury of traveling light, his soldiers were not. Of course on a logical level he understood this, but on a practical one he had never realized just how much food, supplies, and equipment a fighting force relied upon. Still, they were practiced in these matters and marched ever onwards despite Strazio’s ignorance.
“Good, evening sir,” A voice materialized behind him.
Strazio jolted in surprise and turned around to confront the intruder. He was a tall and thin man, draped in clothing that resembled foliage. The skinny barrel of a rifle stuck out towards the sky from beneath the curtain of faux leaves. For a moment, Strazio was unsure if there was even a person behind the outfit, but it spoke again.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, sir.”
“If you didn’t mean it, than you should have probably made some noise on your way here,” Strazio said, “And don’t call me sir.”
“Right, Strazio it is then, my name is Demetri, acting colonel of our sniper and reconnaissance division, pleasure to meet you,” He explained, pulling back his mask to reveal a middle-aged man with dark eyes, “I’ve come to relay our daily report.”
“Okay,” Strazio responded, unsure of just what he was supposed to do with said report.
What followed was a very intensive report. Minutiae as insignificant as wind patterns, underbrush thickness, and even the specifics of the comet’s day/night cycle were piled upon one another. It wasn’t as if any one aspect was beyond the understanding of Strazio, but the sheer volume of knowledge being force-fed into his brain was a bit too much to bear.
“Stop, stop, stop,” Strazio interrupted several minutes in, “Demetri, just what the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” He answered, “Look, the only thing I need to know is where our enemies are and what’s the quickest path towards them, I’m sure this other stuff is useful to someone, but it ain’t to me.”
Demetri smirked and shook his head.
“What’s so fucking funny?” Strazio demanded, standing up.
“You, you really aren’t a leader, are you?” Demetri asked. Had there been even the slightest hint of spite in his voice Strazio would have dropped him there, but there was no accusation in his words - just concern.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He responded, “I’m not exactly someone who plays nice with others if you couldn’t tell.”
“Oh, I had a feeling,” Demetri said, “All that stuff about the weather and underbrush and stuff was a lie, hell I’m not even a colonel, just a sergeant.”
“So you lied to me?”
“Yes I did,” Demetri said, “After your display at the castle, I needed to see for myself what kind of person you are, see if you actually knew what you were doing or not.”
Strazio responded instinctively, “I know what I’m fuckin’ doing.”
“Do you really?” Demetri walked to the edge of the hill and motioned out towards the marching army, “This isn’t your personal hammer to bash into whatever ticks you off, Strazio, these are people, people with lives and ambitions and families, and if you refuse to see that then you better kill me right now because I’ll put a bullet into your head.”
Strazio’s temper relented. He looked away, trying to conjure up a defense from thin air.
Strazio answered quietly, “I already told you I’m not a leader, I don’t know why that stupid prick put me in charge.”
“There’s no sympathy in war, Strazio.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me,” He said, anger rising in his throat, “I’m not an idiot, okay? I know that if this goes sideways their blood is on my hands, but I don’t know what else to do! I’ve lived my entire life throwing my body and my anger at the enemy and I’ve never been the one to break, so why wouldn’t it work now?”
“Because, not everyone is you,” Demetri explained.
Strazio exhaled deeply. He watched the fiery caterpillar crawl towards its destination, a destination he had set. But the Lake of Fire wasn’t some homogenous lava beast nor was it an implacable force of nature. No, it held the granular souls of individuals fighting for their lives. The fire wasn’t their plasma-powered weaponry, it was the burning embers they carried within their chests. He had unconsciously intended to snuff those souls out against the first thing even remotely flammable. Disgusting.
“Alright then,” Strazio said, inhaling sharply, “Teach me, I can’t learn this on my own so teach me.”
“Good, evening sir,” A voice materialized behind him.
Strazio jolted in surprise and turned around to confront the intruder. He was a tall and thin man, draped in clothing that resembled foliage. The skinny barrel of a rifle stuck out towards the sky from beneath the curtain of faux leaves. For a moment, Strazio was unsure if there was even a person behind the outfit, but it spoke again.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, sir.”
“If you didn’t mean it, than you should have probably made some noise on your way here,” Strazio said, “And don’t call me sir.”
“Right, Strazio it is then, my name is Demetri, acting colonel of our sniper and reconnaissance division, pleasure to meet you,” He explained, pulling back his mask to reveal a middle-aged man with dark eyes, “I’ve come to relay our daily report.”
“Okay,” Strazio responded, unsure of just what he was supposed to do with said report.
What followed was a very intensive report. Minutiae as insignificant as wind patterns, underbrush thickness, and even the specifics of the comet’s day/night cycle were piled upon one another. It wasn’t as if any one aspect was beyond the understanding of Strazio, but the sheer volume of knowledge being force-fed into his brain was a bit too much to bear.
“Stop, stop, stop,” Strazio interrupted several minutes in, “Demetri, just what the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” He answered, “Look, the only thing I need to know is where our enemies are and what’s the quickest path towards them, I’m sure this other stuff is useful to someone, but it ain’t to me.”
Demetri smirked and shook his head.
“What’s so fucking funny?” Strazio demanded, standing up.
“You, you really aren’t a leader, are you?” Demetri asked. Had there been even the slightest hint of spite in his voice Strazio would have dropped him there, but there was no accusation in his words - just concern.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He responded, “I’m not exactly someone who plays nice with others if you couldn’t tell.”
“Oh, I had a feeling,” Demetri said, “All that stuff about the weather and underbrush and stuff was a lie, hell I’m not even a colonel, just a sergeant.”
“So you lied to me?”
“Yes I did,” Demetri said, “After your display at the castle, I needed to see for myself what kind of person you are, see if you actually knew what you were doing or not.”
Strazio responded instinctively, “I know what I’m fuckin’ doing.”
“Do you really?” Demetri walked to the edge of the hill and motioned out towards the marching army, “This isn’t your personal hammer to bash into whatever ticks you off, Strazio, these are people, people with lives and ambitions and families, and if you refuse to see that then you better kill me right now because I’ll put a bullet into your head.”
Strazio’s temper relented. He looked away, trying to conjure up a defense from thin air.
Strazio answered quietly, “I already told you I’m not a leader, I don’t know why that stupid prick put me in charge.”
“There’s no sympathy in war, Strazio.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me,” He said, anger rising in his throat, “I’m not an idiot, okay? I know that if this goes sideways their blood is on my hands, but I don’t know what else to do! I’ve lived my entire life throwing my body and my anger at the enemy and I’ve never been the one to break, so why wouldn’t it work now?”
“Because, not everyone is you,” Demetri explained.
Strazio exhaled deeply. He watched the fiery caterpillar crawl towards its destination, a destination he had set. But the Lake of Fire wasn’t some homogenous lava beast nor was it an implacable force of nature. No, it held the granular souls of individuals fighting for their lives. The fire wasn’t their plasma-powered weaponry, it was the burning embers they carried within their chests. He had unconsciously intended to snuff those souls out against the first thing even remotely flammable. Disgusting.
“Alright then,” Strazio said, inhaling sharply, “Teach me, I can’t learn this on my own so teach me.”
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Malloki had spent so much time traveling before, this should have been nothing new. The problem with traveling this time was the fact that he had to behave. No games, despite so many potential players around him. All that shiny armor, like chrome chess pieces on an equally shiny Twister mat! The analogy made sense to the madman...
At least his accommodations were nice. He rode upon a valiant stallion in Syntech barding. Of course, Malloki's chosen steed was just another grunt, carrying the Living Voodoo bridal style. Sweat beaded up on his brow and his legs ached terribly, but at least Malloki was on the lighter side, as malnurished as he was.
"Sooooo BOOORRRREEED!" The groan broke the monotone of marching sabaton. "Where are we going?" Malloki inquired of his carrier. "Are we almost there? I'm bored! And hungry! And bored!"
The young soldier knew better than to anger Malloki, having seen his run in the previous Dante's Abyss. This string of questions and statements was also not a new thing. The younger soldier had been chosen by Malloki to carry Malloki for the last two days. Just like before, he answered the questions with a simple; "We are going to find someone to play your game."
"Are we close?"
"I don't know, Sir Quackerdoodle, Lord of the Yellow Ducky." It was only on the second day that the soldier had figured out this little cheat code. Malloki, addressed as nobility, straightened his back in the bridal carry.
"Very well, Jeeves. Another day shall be fine. Onward, Jeeves, we shan't be late for a sporting game of crochet and brunch! Finger sandwiches and sparkling cider sound absolutely divine!"
Under his breath, the soldier muttered for the umpteenth time; "My name's Paul," but at this point it had become a mantra for him alone - as Malloki refused to learn his name. "Very good sir, but you should refrain from showing unbecoming behavior, lest your competition think less of you. Would not want to be the talk of the country club, sir."
For the fifth time today, Malloki was quieted. The manipulation usually bought Paul an hour or so of quiet, and the stiffer posture helped his own.
When young Paul joined in on this expedition, he had not expected to run into Malloki upon deployment. Up close and personal, he had to admit this was far better than meeting him later. Being the pack mule of the mad man was infinitely more comforting than being in his crosshairs.
The man next to him carried a bandoleer of grenades. A few soldiers behind him had rocket launchers of some variety. Paul had a weapon ten times more frightening. With Malloki pacified, it felt like he had just shoved the pin back into the grenade for later use.
...
"I'm bored... Are we almost there?" And so the cycle continues.
"No, m'lord of Flumftown. Another day's walk before we meet the Baron for your game."
At least his accommodations were nice. He rode upon a valiant stallion in Syntech barding. Of course, Malloki's chosen steed was just another grunt, carrying the Living Voodoo bridal style. Sweat beaded up on his brow and his legs ached terribly, but at least Malloki was on the lighter side, as malnurished as he was.
"Sooooo BOOORRRREEED!" The groan broke the monotone of marching sabaton. "Where are we going?" Malloki inquired of his carrier. "Are we almost there? I'm bored! And hungry! And bored!"
The young soldier knew better than to anger Malloki, having seen his run in the previous Dante's Abyss. This string of questions and statements was also not a new thing. The younger soldier had been chosen by Malloki to carry Malloki for the last two days. Just like before, he answered the questions with a simple; "We are going to find someone to play your game."
"Are we close?"
"I don't know, Sir Quackerdoodle, Lord of the Yellow Ducky." It was only on the second day that the soldier had figured out this little cheat code. Malloki, addressed as nobility, straightened his back in the bridal carry.
"Very well, Jeeves. Another day shall be fine. Onward, Jeeves, we shan't be late for a sporting game of crochet and brunch! Finger sandwiches and sparkling cider sound absolutely divine!"
Under his breath, the soldier muttered for the umpteenth time; "My name's Paul," but at this point it had become a mantra for him alone - as Malloki refused to learn his name. "Very good sir, but you should refrain from showing unbecoming behavior, lest your competition think less of you. Would not want to be the talk of the country club, sir."
For the fifth time today, Malloki was quieted. The manipulation usually bought Paul an hour or so of quiet, and the stiffer posture helped his own.
When young Paul joined in on this expedition, he had not expected to run into Malloki upon deployment. Up close and personal, he had to admit this was far better than meeting him later. Being the pack mule of the mad man was infinitely more comforting than being in his crosshairs.
The man next to him carried a bandoleer of grenades. A few soldiers behind him had rocket launchers of some variety. Paul had a weapon ten times more frightening. With Malloki pacified, it felt like he had just shoved the pin back into the grenade for later use.
...
"I'm bored... Are we almost there?" And so the cycle continues.
"No, m'lord of Flumftown. Another day's walk before we meet the Baron for your game."
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Buu marched along with the other soldiers, taking great exaggerated steps and swinging his arms while he hummed happily. The infantry had given Buu a wide berth after word spread about what he did to the man who signed him up to this contest. Buu didn’t overly notice; in fact, it was strange that the people all around him weren’t screaming and running away from him. It was taking him a while to adjust to that.
“Hmm,” Buu said, “when we fight? Buu getting bored.”
A few soldiers looked around at each other but no one said anything.
“Oh well, Buu sick of walking. Buu fly now. Maybe see strong guy to fight!”
Buu crouched on his stubby legs and bounded into the sky. An audible gasp went up from the soldiers around him as he took off, hung in the air for a moment, and then returned to the ground.
Buu scratched at his holed head. “Huh? Why Buu no fly?”
One of the soldiers bravely spoke up. “The collar on your neck. It doesn’t restrict all your powers, but some. I think flying is one of them.”
“That stupid,” Buu said, reaching for the collar. “Buu take off his collar.”
“No!” the soldier cried out. “It’ll kill you!”
“Huh? Kill?” Buu laughed. “Buu can’t die! Buu too strong!”
“Trust me. Just leave it on.”
“But Buu want to fly!”
The soldier grimaced. “Why?”
“Because Buu bored!”
“Well… what if I talk to you? Keep you entertained until the fighting starts?”
Buu considered. “You… want to be friends with Buu?”
“Sure, why not?” the soldier said, then under his breath, “anything that keeps us from getting eaten.”
“What?” Buu asked.
“Nothing, nothing!”
“Hmm… OK! You be Buu’s friend now! What your name?”
“Matt,” the soldier said.
The other infantry looked sideways, trying not to get involved with the conversation. Buu may have been on their side, but no one trusted him.
But Buu was happy. Someone to talk to that didn’t order him around like Babidi would be fantastic.
Until he could crush some heads.
“Hmm,” Buu said, “when we fight? Buu getting bored.”
A few soldiers looked around at each other but no one said anything.
“Oh well, Buu sick of walking. Buu fly now. Maybe see strong guy to fight!”
Buu crouched on his stubby legs and bounded into the sky. An audible gasp went up from the soldiers around him as he took off, hung in the air for a moment, and then returned to the ground.
Buu scratched at his holed head. “Huh? Why Buu no fly?”
One of the soldiers bravely spoke up. “The collar on your neck. It doesn’t restrict all your powers, but some. I think flying is one of them.”
“That stupid,” Buu said, reaching for the collar. “Buu take off his collar.”
“No!” the soldier cried out. “It’ll kill you!”
“Huh? Kill?” Buu laughed. “Buu can’t die! Buu too strong!”
“Trust me. Just leave it on.”
“But Buu want to fly!”
The soldier grimaced. “Why?”
“Because Buu bored!”
“Well… what if I talk to you? Keep you entertained until the fighting starts?”
Buu considered. “You… want to be friends with Buu?”
“Sure, why not?” the soldier said, then under his breath, “anything that keeps us from getting eaten.”
“What?” Buu asked.
“Nothing, nothing!”
“Hmm… OK! You be Buu’s friend now! What your name?”
“Matt,” the soldier said.
The other infantry looked sideways, trying not to get involved with the conversation. Buu may have been on their side, but no one trusted him.
But Buu was happy. Someone to talk to that didn’t order him around like Babidi would be fantastic.
Until he could crush some heads.
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"We will stop here for the night."
As the third day of their march wore on toward night, Altanis spoke the simple directions aloud. The two troops flanking her, who had taken it upon themselves to fashion themselves as her direct aides — Morgans and Faurin, as they had introduced themselves — nodded virtually in unison and gave a swift salute before Faurin quickly turned and scurried off. By now, it had become simple routine that her orders would be handed out to the rest of those under her command by one of those two.
They were an irritant, to be sure, with the way they constantly hovered so closely and paid such careful attention to anything and everything. They were also, however, valuable enough in their own right.
Morgans was a young woman of indeterminate age, though covered with a grisly network of scars and burns that left her looking far older and more haggard than she probably was. The eyepatch over one eye hinted at some other less readily apparent injuries, but it was one thing which seemed to immediately get under her skin if someone even came close to mentioning. For her part, Altanis had been more than content to focus instead on the absolute absurd number of assorted explosive and incendiary devices that she sported, to say nothing of the number of knives (and other assorted sharp objects) and assorted pistols.
She looked every bit like some absurd child trying to look 'cool' and intimidating. Were it not for the dull gleam in her remaining eye, hinting at the fact she actually knew how to use that absurd level of ordinance for something other than showing off, it would have been entirely ridiculous. She was not exactly what one might call...friendly, though was eager to be close at hand so as to be one of the first to know the moment 'it was time'. She was almost violently enthusiastic about their chances to deal a serious blow to the forces of the unmaking, even here in this little contest.
Faurin, on the other hand... He was much more lightly, and some might even say 'sensibly' equipped. A light and maneuverable armored suit, complete with a helmet and visor concealing his face. A large, heavy-bladed machete hung in a sheathe at his back under a draping cloak. Most often he held his weapon of choice, some kind of energy rifle, in his hands or resting against one shoulder. The man spoke very little, and was quiet even when he did so. More often than not, it was easy enough to entirely forget he was even there. But he was observant and seemed intent on being useful, and his ability to remain silent made him one of the less annoying aspects of this unit she had been assigned to lead. The fact he was one of the few who could actually be called any kind of combat veteran among the forces under her command was also a definite plus, and reason enough to keep him close at hand.
"Morgans." The tactician spoke up after a moment to let Faurin get on his way. "What do you think of our progress so far?"
"....with all due respect, ma'am, I don't think very much of it." As always, the woman was blunt and straight to the point. "It's been nothing but a slow and steady march so far. The only progress we've made is in terms of distance from the castle."
"Hmm." Altanis's expression remained neutral as she took in the words. They were, of course, entirely correct. So far it had been nothing but a steady march onward. This island was far from small, and it wasn't as if they had expected to encounter any enemy forces quickly, but...
"Personally, I'm starting to get annoyed," Morgans went on. She scowled darkly, one hand fidgeting with a grenade at her belt, fingertips drumming on the handle. "It's been three days so far without a sign of anything not part of our army. You said we were going to lay some serious hurt on those unmade freaks, and so far you haven't exactly lived up to that."
"Recall for me, if you will, my dear..." Altanis spoke up softly, though her voice was cold and sharp as ice. "...what my exact words were, if you can."
The scowl on Morgans' face grew, if anything, deeper as her face scrunched up. It had already been shown that critical thinking and keen memory were not among the woman's strong suits, but she was always one to make an admirable effort.
"....I dunno," she finally admitted, in a huff. "Something about sure success and survival if we didn't fuck around too much, and followed your orders."
"Yes. Precisely." The tactician slowly turned her head to peer down at the other woman beside her. "I promised assured victory, and ample vengeance for you. I promised survival. What I did not promise, however...was that it would be done on your time table." The woman started to speak up again, but the hellion cut her off by simply raising her voice "I believe I made very clear from the outset this would not be quick. If anything, it will be a very slow ordeal. We do not have the numbers to engage in senseless, direct violence and destruction without being immediately slaughtered. Even I could not hope to hold out against an entire army."
"Even when we do finally encounter our enemy of choice, we will not be able to simply rush in. As much as you and many others might wish it so, it is simply not an option." Altanis slowly leaned forward, exerting the imposing presence granted by her height as she towered over the woman below her, golden eyes gleaming in silhouette against the fading daylight. "If you want any hope of seeing any kind of actual vengeance and payback, you would do well to remember that my orders are to be followed. To. The. Letter."
For a long, silent minute Morgans' stubborn courage held and she stared defiantly back at the centaur, eye to eyes...before she twitched and looked away. "Y-Yeah...whatever. Long as I get to wreck some unmade's shit, I don't care."
"Good. Now..." The tactician gave a dismissive flick of one hand. "Go pass along an additional message to the rest of the troops...tell them to fully relax for the night, and remind them of our end goal. It may not be swift...but every day is one day closer to it."
"Tch." Morgans scowled and spat off to one side, but turned to angrily stalk away toward the rest of the unit just as Faurin came jogging back up.
"Ma'am." He snapped off a quick salute as he spoke up in his soft, easygoing voice. "Got a little something unexpected to report...heard about it from the others when I was passin' along the message."
"Something important, I hope," Altanis murmured with a weary sigh.
"Dunno." The masked man just shrugged impassively. "Just that we got company to the north."
"Company?" This drew the hellish tactician's full attention. "What sort of company?"
"Couldn't tell for sure. Didn't look like enemies, but light's not exactly good enough to get a clear look without gettin' closer."
"Hmm. Very well, then..." She sighed heavily. "Go and keep an eye on them. At least to determine if they make any sudden moves, or depart in any direction. I have other business to attend to."
"May I ask what, ma'am?"
"I should go inform our dear General." The words slithered out of her mouth with a clear note of venom to them. "At the moment, the authority on whether to go and investigate further lies with him, after all. I wouldn't want to overstep my bounds."
Perhaps detecting the dangerous, seething aura of his Lieutenant, Faurin just nodded, snapped off another quick salute and turned to hurriedly dash back toward camp and the relative safety of being somewhere not within mangling distance of Altanis.
Meanwhile, for her part, the hellspawn simply growled and ground her teeth in a silent snarl as she worked to calm her nerves and get her thoughts properly in order. She had, after all, a report to make. And with no small amount of open, violent distaste, she turned to quickly trot off toward the easily spotted sight of the forces of her general, Strazio Rockwell.
They had yet to interact directly, but the thought of doing so after what she had observed did not fill her with any joy. It would be lucky if they didn't try to rip each other's throats out then and there. As much as that might liven things up, it wouldn't exactly be proper. So it would likely be on her to keep things calm, with what she had seen of the other man.
"How wonderful..."
As the third day of their march wore on toward night, Altanis spoke the simple directions aloud. The two troops flanking her, who had taken it upon themselves to fashion themselves as her direct aides — Morgans and Faurin, as they had introduced themselves — nodded virtually in unison and gave a swift salute before Faurin quickly turned and scurried off. By now, it had become simple routine that her orders would be handed out to the rest of those under her command by one of those two.
They were an irritant, to be sure, with the way they constantly hovered so closely and paid such careful attention to anything and everything. They were also, however, valuable enough in their own right.
Morgans was a young woman of indeterminate age, though covered with a grisly network of scars and burns that left her looking far older and more haggard than she probably was. The eyepatch over one eye hinted at some other less readily apparent injuries, but it was one thing which seemed to immediately get under her skin if someone even came close to mentioning. For her part, Altanis had been more than content to focus instead on the absolute absurd number of assorted explosive and incendiary devices that she sported, to say nothing of the number of knives (and other assorted sharp objects) and assorted pistols.
She looked every bit like some absurd child trying to look 'cool' and intimidating. Were it not for the dull gleam in her remaining eye, hinting at the fact she actually knew how to use that absurd level of ordinance for something other than showing off, it would have been entirely ridiculous. She was not exactly what one might call...friendly, though was eager to be close at hand so as to be one of the first to know the moment 'it was time'. She was almost violently enthusiastic about their chances to deal a serious blow to the forces of the unmaking, even here in this little contest.
Faurin, on the other hand... He was much more lightly, and some might even say 'sensibly' equipped. A light and maneuverable armored suit, complete with a helmet and visor concealing his face. A large, heavy-bladed machete hung in a sheathe at his back under a draping cloak. Most often he held his weapon of choice, some kind of energy rifle, in his hands or resting against one shoulder. The man spoke very little, and was quiet even when he did so. More often than not, it was easy enough to entirely forget he was even there. But he was observant and seemed intent on being useful, and his ability to remain silent made him one of the less annoying aspects of this unit she had been assigned to lead. The fact he was one of the few who could actually be called any kind of combat veteran among the forces under her command was also a definite plus, and reason enough to keep him close at hand.
"Morgans." The tactician spoke up after a moment to let Faurin get on his way. "What do you think of our progress so far?"
"....with all due respect, ma'am, I don't think very much of it." As always, the woman was blunt and straight to the point. "It's been nothing but a slow and steady march so far. The only progress we've made is in terms of distance from the castle."
"Hmm." Altanis's expression remained neutral as she took in the words. They were, of course, entirely correct. So far it had been nothing but a steady march onward. This island was far from small, and it wasn't as if they had expected to encounter any enemy forces quickly, but...
"Personally, I'm starting to get annoyed," Morgans went on. She scowled darkly, one hand fidgeting with a grenade at her belt, fingertips drumming on the handle. "It's been three days so far without a sign of anything not part of our army. You said we were going to lay some serious hurt on those unmade freaks, and so far you haven't exactly lived up to that."
"Recall for me, if you will, my dear..." Altanis spoke up softly, though her voice was cold and sharp as ice. "...what my exact words were, if you can."
The scowl on Morgans' face grew, if anything, deeper as her face scrunched up. It had already been shown that critical thinking and keen memory were not among the woman's strong suits, but she was always one to make an admirable effort.
"....I dunno," she finally admitted, in a huff. "Something about sure success and survival if we didn't fuck around too much, and followed your orders."
"Yes. Precisely." The tactician slowly turned her head to peer down at the other woman beside her. "I promised assured victory, and ample vengeance for you. I promised survival. What I did not promise, however...was that it would be done on your time table." The woman started to speak up again, but the hellion cut her off by simply raising her voice "I believe I made very clear from the outset this would not be quick. If anything, it will be a very slow ordeal. We do not have the numbers to engage in senseless, direct violence and destruction without being immediately slaughtered. Even I could not hope to hold out against an entire army."
"Even when we do finally encounter our enemy of choice, we will not be able to simply rush in. As much as you and many others might wish it so, it is simply not an option." Altanis slowly leaned forward, exerting the imposing presence granted by her height as she towered over the woman below her, golden eyes gleaming in silhouette against the fading daylight. "If you want any hope of seeing any kind of actual vengeance and payback, you would do well to remember that my orders are to be followed. To. The. Letter."
For a long, silent minute Morgans' stubborn courage held and she stared defiantly back at the centaur, eye to eyes...before she twitched and looked away. "Y-Yeah...whatever. Long as I get to wreck some unmade's shit, I don't care."
"Good. Now..." The tactician gave a dismissive flick of one hand. "Go pass along an additional message to the rest of the troops...tell them to fully relax for the night, and remind them of our end goal. It may not be swift...but every day is one day closer to it."
"Tch." Morgans scowled and spat off to one side, but turned to angrily stalk away toward the rest of the unit just as Faurin came jogging back up.
"Ma'am." He snapped off a quick salute as he spoke up in his soft, easygoing voice. "Got a little something unexpected to report...heard about it from the others when I was passin' along the message."
"Something important, I hope," Altanis murmured with a weary sigh.
"Dunno." The masked man just shrugged impassively. "Just that we got company to the north."
"Company?" This drew the hellish tactician's full attention. "What sort of company?"
"Couldn't tell for sure. Didn't look like enemies, but light's not exactly good enough to get a clear look without gettin' closer."
"Hmm. Very well, then..." She sighed heavily. "Go and keep an eye on them. At least to determine if they make any sudden moves, or depart in any direction. I have other business to attend to."
"May I ask what, ma'am?"
"I should go inform our dear General." The words slithered out of her mouth with a clear note of venom to them. "At the moment, the authority on whether to go and investigate further lies with him, after all. I wouldn't want to overstep my bounds."
Perhaps detecting the dangerous, seething aura of his Lieutenant, Faurin just nodded, snapped off another quick salute and turned to hurriedly dash back toward camp and the relative safety of being somewhere not within mangling distance of Altanis.
Meanwhile, for her part, the hellspawn simply growled and ground her teeth in a silent snarl as she worked to calm her nerves and get her thoughts properly in order. She had, after all, a report to make. And with no small amount of open, violent distaste, she turned to quickly trot off toward the easily spotted sight of the forces of her general, Strazio Rockwell.
They had yet to interact directly, but the thought of doing so after what she had observed did not fill her with any joy. It would be lucky if they didn't try to rip each other's throats out then and there. As much as that might liven things up, it wouldn't exactly be proper. So it would likely be on her to keep things calm, with what she had seen of the other man.
"How wonderful..."
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Face to Face
Withering Fire!
Withering Fire!
They were nearing their destination now, after days of long marching in the dark of night and somber camp scenes.
Now, the forces of Strazio and Altanis found themselves facing one last hurdle, in the form of a literal bombardment from the heavens that light up the night sky.
“Push. Onward!” Strazio barked as the armies pushed through the hail of mortar fire.
Face to Face
Withering Fire!
Withering Fire!
They had disabled some of the nearby fortifications, but with the pressure mounting on them, the Hell Divers knew they couldn’t stay and be buried alive in the Unmade City.
Under the tight, unwavering leadership of the promoted Altanis, the Army emerged south of the city, their routes clean and their columns staggered. They knew from reports that they had disabled one of the nearby Carnaval fortifications.
One.
The mortars from the Necropolis started to stitch their way down the landscape leading south of the city, and the Hell Divers once again found themselves running for their lives as they fell under fire from the heavy guns.
“Do NOT panic!” Altanis roared through the haze. “Make haste but do not lose your wits or you allow them to win more than one victory this day!”
Even so, the withdrawal was not without its costs.
Face to Face
Warning Shots!
Warning Shots!
The Hell Divers had the sounds of the Unmade mortar shells in the distance for a few hours when the ground in front of them was suddenly leveled by a barrage of explosive shells.
General Altanis backpedaled as she turned to a nearby scout detachment.
“A fortress, General…”
The general scowled. “We’re not in unmade territory anymore, are we?”
The scout, who still bore the scratches from his hasty ascent and descent of a nearby tree, shook his head. “Miniskirt Armada flags… maybe it’s just a warning shot?”
“With our luck?” Altanis muttered.
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"For the moment..." Altanis wheeled around. "Spread out, and rest while we have even this small amount of time. Tend to the injured." She immediately set off back into the ranks of her remaining troops, expression twisted into a dark scowl of bitter fury.
"I-Is that really wise, ma'am?" the scout hesitantly asked as he hurried along after the general. "If we sit here, the next shot might not be a warning one, and we're right in range of more enemy fire!"
"I am aware if that fact," the hellspawn snapped irritably. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a suitable solution. If they moved any further, they risked being unable to fully regroup soon enough, but if they stayed put here then it might be seen as a symbol of aggression. There seemed no easy solution at hand, unless...
"Make preparations quickly, and raise a white flag." She spoke coldly, and her distaste for the plan was evident. "One large enough to be clearly and unmistakably seen by those from the fort."
"A white flag, general? Doesn't that mean...surrender?"
"It means surrender only when it is the weaker group raising it." Her eyes flashed dangerously. "We are not such a group. Injured, but not broken nor cowed." She waved a hand dismissively. "The white flag has many other meanings. A temporary truce, or ceasefire, or request for protection, or request for negotiations and parley. Unless those within the fortress you have spotted are without even a shred of mercy, they will honor this...as long as we make no overtly hostile moves."
"....understood, general." The scout nodded grimly. "I don't really like this plan...but it seems like the best of what we can do."
"We cannot move any further today, not after the pace we were forced to retreat at." Altanis heaved a heavy sigh, bringing one hand to the bridge of her nose. "Tend to the wounded, as I said...and allow the rest to relax and actually rest for a short while." She turned away briefly, before adding, "And bring me a casualty report. We should know what our current numbers are."
"Understood, ma'am." A quick salute, and the scout swiftly departed to go relay the orders to the rest of the troops.
"This turn of events is completely unacceptable...and it has begun to force my hand more than I would like." She scowled through clenched teeth. "I am left with precious few options..." She snapped her head about and quickly barked out an order that saw one of the nearby troops running up to her with a shaky salute. There was one here she had observed who could likely be counted on, for this.
"Fetch me Sergeant Demetri," she said quietly. "And tell him to prepare for delivering a message."
"I-Is that really wise, ma'am?" the scout hesitantly asked as he hurried along after the general. "If we sit here, the next shot might not be a warning one, and we're right in range of more enemy fire!"
"I am aware if that fact," the hellspawn snapped irritably. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a suitable solution. If they moved any further, they risked being unable to fully regroup soon enough, but if they stayed put here then it might be seen as a symbol of aggression. There seemed no easy solution at hand, unless...
"Make preparations quickly, and raise a white flag." She spoke coldly, and her distaste for the plan was evident. "One large enough to be clearly and unmistakably seen by those from the fort."
"A white flag, general? Doesn't that mean...surrender?"
"It means surrender only when it is the weaker group raising it." Her eyes flashed dangerously. "We are not such a group. Injured, but not broken nor cowed." She waved a hand dismissively. "The white flag has many other meanings. A temporary truce, or ceasefire, or request for protection, or request for negotiations and parley. Unless those within the fortress you have spotted are without even a shred of mercy, they will honor this...as long as we make no overtly hostile moves."
"....understood, general." The scout nodded grimly. "I don't really like this plan...but it seems like the best of what we can do."
"We cannot move any further today, not after the pace we were forced to retreat at." Altanis heaved a heavy sigh, bringing one hand to the bridge of her nose. "Tend to the wounded, as I said...and allow the rest to relax and actually rest for a short while." She turned away briefly, before adding, "And bring me a casualty report. We should know what our current numbers are."
"Understood, ma'am." A quick salute, and the scout swiftly departed to go relay the orders to the rest of the troops.
"This turn of events is completely unacceptable...and it has begun to force my hand more than I would like." She scowled through clenched teeth. "I am left with precious few options..." She snapped her head about and quickly barked out an order that saw one of the nearby troops running up to her with a shaky salute. There was one here she had observed who could likely be counted on, for this.
"Fetch me Sergeant Demetri," she said quietly. "And tell him to prepare for delivering a message."
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Several hours had gone by before their impromptu 'camp' had been set up. A certain degree of anxiety and paranoia still settled in many of the soldiers under her banner, leading them to take whatever sparse cover was to be found among the terrain they had settled in. It was only with strict instructions and a painstakingly laid out argument that she was able to convince them away from openly building any kind of even temporary fortifications or structures, lest it all be taken as preparations for some hostile act.
The distant, looming silhouette of the Miniskirt Armada's fortress had everyone on edge, Altanis included. Thus far they had mercifully been spared from any further attack, but every passing minute without the incoming whine or earth-shaking blast of artillery fire was nonetheless equal parts a relief and another notch of mounted worry.
The tend she now rested in had been hastily constructed, and more than anything else it served to keep out the wind and dust of the grasslands outside. A simple measure, but it made her tasks of the moment much easier. Carefully studying the reports presented to her, making personal notes and logs of troop strength and unit formations, as well as marking out important details they had discovered on a copy of the island map she had managed to dig up. That and, of course, drafting up the message and plans for Sergeant Demetri. It wasn't that she didn't trust the man, but this was a delicate situation and had to be played very...carefully.
As if on cue, there came a light rapping at one of the posts near the entrance flap. "Forgive my tardiness, General," a voice spoke up only a moment later. "You wanted to speak with me about delivering a message, ma'am?"
"In light of the circumstances we have faced in the past few days, I will overlook your tardiness, Sergeant." Altanis didn't even bother to look up from where she sat, a pen delicately held in her clawed fingers for a more...personal touch, hand-writing her notes rather than simply using her telekinesis for the task. "You have picked out a suitable group for the task, I take it?"
"Affirmative, ma'am." The worn scout sergeant stepped inside, letting the entrance flap drape shut after him. "I have several candidates in mind. Once I know the exact nature of this task I can make a more specific selection."
The hellish general nodded slowly, with an almost absentminded 'hmmm' as she scribbled another few quick words and made a final, definitive period, jabbing the pen into the table before her. "Very good. I believe this will fill you in as to the nature of this little operation." She flicked her hand, the papers she had just finished drafting sliding across it and twirling into the air, drifting down right into the scout's waiting hand.
He reached up to tiredly rub at his eyes, turning the packet over to read its contents. His eyebrows almost immediately shot up, and only rose higher as he skimmed over the pages. "This..." He looked back up at Altanis incredulously. "...are you sure about this, ma'am? Without even contacting the Commander, or—"
"Currently we do not know the Commander's location to properly send word to him," she interrupted, her voice low and even. "Even if we did, getting a message to him and waiting for word to arrive back could take several days. No..." She shook her head. "We must do this now, and explore every opportunity and chance available to us."
"It's..." Demetri paused, going quiet as he studied the papers again. The message itself, and the instructions written along with it, made him furrow his brow deeply as he struggled to find the right phrasing. "...a bold move."
"You may speak frankly, Sergeant." The hellspawn crossed her arms over her chest. "Tell me what you truly think."
"If you insist, General..." The scout sergeant took a deep breath to steady himself. "It's a heavy risk. The reward if it goes well would be substantial, but if it goes wrong we'll be worse off than we are now. Much worse off. Walking into that place, even under a flag of truce and requesting negotiations, is like walking into a zoo where we don't know if the animal's cages are actually locked. This could do a lot of damage, if anything goes a miss."
Altanis's expression twitched only slightly, her lips curling into a hint of a smirk. "Then you have no issues with the plan itself?"
For a long moment there was nothing but silence, then Demetri sighed, shaking his head. "....no, ma'am. It's risky, and it has every chance to make us more enemies as it does to make us more allies. But as you said, we need to take every chance we have available."
"Good." She nodded briskly. "Memorize your instructions as laid out in those documents, then destroy them. The less who know all the specifics of this, the less chance of it going wrong." She turned aside, pulling the list of casualty reports closer. "When he rejoins us, you will be under the leadership of Lieutenant Stretch for this operation. He will be in command, but you will be his second, and the guiding force to ensure things go...smoothly. Have a fresh unit of troops prepared to rotate out with those formerly under his command, and be prepared to set out within the hour once he returns. We must be ready to make a good first impression, if we are to come out of this favorably."
"Understood, ma'am." Demetri nodded. "If there's nothing else...?"
"Send word to Corporal Faurin I wish to have a word with him. Other than that, no." The hellion shook her head, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Dismissed."
The scout sergeant offered only a silent salute and tucked the papers under his arm, turning to exit the tent.
Once he had gone, Altanis scowled darkly down at the casualty reports. "One hundred fifty more lost..." She ground her teeth, slamming one fist down upon the table. "Unacceptable..." She couldn't have cared less about the emotional impact of such a loss, as much as the practical one: that was another one hundred fifty less hands, wielding one hundred fifty less weapons against their enemies. Every loss only made her task more difficult, both from a standpoint of logistics as well as morale.
"This operation must go smoothly..." She slammed her open hand down on the map before her, one clawed nail spearing the marker she had jotted down of the nearby fortress. "...we are in dire need of this opportunity."
The distant, looming silhouette of the Miniskirt Armada's fortress had everyone on edge, Altanis included. Thus far they had mercifully been spared from any further attack, but every passing minute without the incoming whine or earth-shaking blast of artillery fire was nonetheless equal parts a relief and another notch of mounted worry.
The tend she now rested in had been hastily constructed, and more than anything else it served to keep out the wind and dust of the grasslands outside. A simple measure, but it made her tasks of the moment much easier. Carefully studying the reports presented to her, making personal notes and logs of troop strength and unit formations, as well as marking out important details they had discovered on a copy of the island map she had managed to dig up. That and, of course, drafting up the message and plans for Sergeant Demetri. It wasn't that she didn't trust the man, but this was a delicate situation and had to be played very...carefully.
As if on cue, there came a light rapping at one of the posts near the entrance flap. "Forgive my tardiness, General," a voice spoke up only a moment later. "You wanted to speak with me about delivering a message, ma'am?"
"In light of the circumstances we have faced in the past few days, I will overlook your tardiness, Sergeant." Altanis didn't even bother to look up from where she sat, a pen delicately held in her clawed fingers for a more...personal touch, hand-writing her notes rather than simply using her telekinesis for the task. "You have picked out a suitable group for the task, I take it?"
"Affirmative, ma'am." The worn scout sergeant stepped inside, letting the entrance flap drape shut after him. "I have several candidates in mind. Once I know the exact nature of this task I can make a more specific selection."
The hellish general nodded slowly, with an almost absentminded 'hmmm' as she scribbled another few quick words and made a final, definitive period, jabbing the pen into the table before her. "Very good. I believe this will fill you in as to the nature of this little operation." She flicked her hand, the papers she had just finished drafting sliding across it and twirling into the air, drifting down right into the scout's waiting hand.
He reached up to tiredly rub at his eyes, turning the packet over to read its contents. His eyebrows almost immediately shot up, and only rose higher as he skimmed over the pages. "This..." He looked back up at Altanis incredulously. "...are you sure about this, ma'am? Without even contacting the Commander, or—"
"Currently we do not know the Commander's location to properly send word to him," she interrupted, her voice low and even. "Even if we did, getting a message to him and waiting for word to arrive back could take several days. No..." She shook her head. "We must do this now, and explore every opportunity and chance available to us."
"It's..." Demetri paused, going quiet as he studied the papers again. The message itself, and the instructions written along with it, made him furrow his brow deeply as he struggled to find the right phrasing. "...a bold move."
"You may speak frankly, Sergeant." The hellspawn crossed her arms over her chest. "Tell me what you truly think."
"If you insist, General..." The scout sergeant took a deep breath to steady himself. "It's a heavy risk. The reward if it goes well would be substantial, but if it goes wrong we'll be worse off than we are now. Much worse off. Walking into that place, even under a flag of truce and requesting negotiations, is like walking into a zoo where we don't know if the animal's cages are actually locked. This could do a lot of damage, if anything goes a miss."
Altanis's expression twitched only slightly, her lips curling into a hint of a smirk. "Then you have no issues with the plan itself?"
For a long moment there was nothing but silence, then Demetri sighed, shaking his head. "....no, ma'am. It's risky, and it has every chance to make us more enemies as it does to make us more allies. But as you said, we need to take every chance we have available."
"Good." She nodded briskly. "Memorize your instructions as laid out in those documents, then destroy them. The less who know all the specifics of this, the less chance of it going wrong." She turned aside, pulling the list of casualty reports closer. "When he rejoins us, you will be under the leadership of Lieutenant Stretch for this operation. He will be in command, but you will be his second, and the guiding force to ensure things go...smoothly. Have a fresh unit of troops prepared to rotate out with those formerly under his command, and be prepared to set out within the hour once he returns. We must be ready to make a good first impression, if we are to come out of this favorably."
"Understood, ma'am." Demetri nodded. "If there's nothing else...?"
"Send word to Corporal Faurin I wish to have a word with him. Other than that, no." The hellion shook her head, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Dismissed."
The scout sergeant offered only a silent salute and tucked the papers under his arm, turning to exit the tent.
Once he had gone, Altanis scowled darkly down at the casualty reports. "One hundred fifty more lost..." She ground her teeth, slamming one fist down upon the table. "Unacceptable..." She couldn't have cared less about the emotional impact of such a loss, as much as the practical one: that was another one hundred fifty less hands, wielding one hundred fifty less weapons against their enemies. Every loss only made her task more difficult, both from a standpoint of logistics as well as morale.
"This operation must go smoothly..." She slammed her open hand down on the map before her, one clawed nail spearing the marker she had jotted down of the nearby fortress. "...we are in dire need of this opportunity."
Face to Face
Warning Shots!
Warning Shots!
This time, the shells fell just yards from the camp, causing a few soldiers to flinch and dive for cover at the edge of the Hell Diver camp.
Something in the nature of the bombardment led many to believe that the next bombardment wouldn’t strike just trees.
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"They didn't fire at us again this morning..." one of the soldiers muttered, hunkered down at the edge of camp.
"Yeah. Maybe the messengers we sent out actually pulled some miracle out of their asses?" another one standing nearby ventured.
"Guess the General might know what she's doing after all."
"Or this is just dumb luck. We've had plenty of that lately, good and bad."
"Yeah, yeah...way to be optimistic, bud..."
"Hey, both of you shut it." A third soldier hopped up, fumbling for a pair of binoculars and bringing them up to her eyes. "Lieutenant Stretch's unit is comin' back. Somebody go poke the General."
"They're actually coming back?!" one of the other two practically squawked, stumbling unsteadily to his feet. "O-On it, message goin' out!" And he quickly turned to sprint off into the camp. He darted around several groups making rounds about the area, rushing toward the general's tent and skidded to a halt outside. Taking a few moments to just double over and wheeze to catch his breath, he straightened up and dusted off his uniform before knocking on one of the tent poles. "Private Warren reporting, ma'am. I have a message about—"
He was silenced when the flaps of the tent slowly spread apart. Faurin and Morgans emerged from within, sparing the messenger only a brief glance as they split off into the camp. Altanis loomed within the entryway of the tent only a second later, peering down at Private Warren closely. "You arrived at the perfect moment, private," she murmured, as her lips curled into an easy smirk. "Please finish delivering your message."
"I, uh, y-yes ma'am." He straightened up, with a proper salute. "Corporal Sisto spotted the Wrecking Crew headed back this way, and—"
"Told you to inform me, yes." Altanis chuckled quietly. "I gathered as much. Were there signs of any hostilities?"
"None we could see, ma'am." Warren shook his head. "The unit looks like the same strength as when we sent it out, but we can't tell for sure from this distance."
"Hmmm.... Very well, then." She nodded slightly. "I have another task for you, then. Go find Malloki and Majin Buu. Tell them I wish to have words with them. Inform the perimeter watch to rotate out their shifts early. Then you may retire for the day."
"U-Understood, ma'am!" He straightened up even further, his salute reaching until then unprecedented levels of professionalism and crispness.
"That will be all, Private. Dismissed." She made a lazy gesture somewhere between a salute and a dismissive wave, and the young man nodded and stepped back before spinning on one heel and quickly dashing off into the camp.
"Step one has gone according to plan..." Altanis murmured, as the tent flaps slowly drifted closed again. "Arranging the meeting was the hard part...now comes the difficult part."
"Yeah. Maybe the messengers we sent out actually pulled some miracle out of their asses?" another one standing nearby ventured.
"Guess the General might know what she's doing after all."
"Or this is just dumb luck. We've had plenty of that lately, good and bad."
"Yeah, yeah...way to be optimistic, bud..."
"Hey, both of you shut it." A third soldier hopped up, fumbling for a pair of binoculars and bringing them up to her eyes. "Lieutenant Stretch's unit is comin' back. Somebody go poke the General."
"They're actually coming back?!" one of the other two practically squawked, stumbling unsteadily to his feet. "O-On it, message goin' out!" And he quickly turned to sprint off into the camp. He darted around several groups making rounds about the area, rushing toward the general's tent and skidded to a halt outside. Taking a few moments to just double over and wheeze to catch his breath, he straightened up and dusted off his uniform before knocking on one of the tent poles. "Private Warren reporting, ma'am. I have a message about—"
He was silenced when the flaps of the tent slowly spread apart. Faurin and Morgans emerged from within, sparing the messenger only a brief glance as they split off into the camp. Altanis loomed within the entryway of the tent only a second later, peering down at Private Warren closely. "You arrived at the perfect moment, private," she murmured, as her lips curled into an easy smirk. "Please finish delivering your message."
"I, uh, y-yes ma'am." He straightened up, with a proper salute. "Corporal Sisto spotted the Wrecking Crew headed back this way, and—"
"Told you to inform me, yes." Altanis chuckled quietly. "I gathered as much. Were there signs of any hostilities?"
"None we could see, ma'am." Warren shook his head. "The unit looks like the same strength as when we sent it out, but we can't tell for sure from this distance."
"Hmmm.... Very well, then." She nodded slightly. "I have another task for you, then. Go find Malloki and Majin Buu. Tell them I wish to have words with them. Inform the perimeter watch to rotate out their shifts early. Then you may retire for the day."
"U-Understood, ma'am!" He straightened up even further, his salute reaching until then unprecedented levels of professionalism and crispness.
"That will be all, Private. Dismissed." She made a lazy gesture somewhere between a salute and a dismissive wave, and the young man nodded and stepped back before spinning on one heel and quickly dashing off into the camp.
"Step one has gone according to plan..." Altanis murmured, as the tent flaps slowly drifted closed again. "Arranging the meeting was the hard part...now comes the difficult part."
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It was only a matter of minutes before there was a ruckus outside the tent, and Altanis emerged again to behold the scene.
Just as requested, Malloki and Buu had been summoned. But they had not been kept apart, and now they were...posing difficulties.
"You want to play with Buu?" the rotund pink marshmallow said incredulously, hands on his hips as he peered dubiously at the messy pile of human-shaped nervous energy called Malloki. "You not look like much fun. Buu make you dead too easy!"
"But that wouldn't be any fun at all!" the manic man wailed, flailing one arm around as if to highlight exactly the span of much 'not fun' it all was. "We can't let playtime end that quickly! We haven't even decided on a game yet!"
"You not make sense to Buu." The majin's face crinkled into a deep scowl. "Maybe Buu make you dead just for being annoying!"
It was at this moment that several other troops quickly rushed in to get between the two. "Whoa, whoa, settle down now, Buu! You can't, he'll just make you hurt yourself!"
With only a hint of a smirk on her face, Altanis stepped forward. "Gentlemen..." And she could only manage to half-stifle the chuckle at using such a word to describe these two. "...please save your enthusiasm for later. We will have a target for it to be directed at in full force soon enough."
Immediately, Malloki whipped around at the sound of her voice and fixed her with a glassy-eyed, manic-grinning stare. "You mean....?!"
"Yes. Actual, strong targets. Past that city up north we were forced to leave from...there are many actual fighters there." Even in her brief interactions with and observations of this pair, she had already begun to get an inkling of how they worked. What made their simple minds tick, and what they wanted out of all this. "Much more worth your time, and able to play for much longer than the lackluster...civilians in the city itself."
Buu now had his rapt attention on the general as well, and was nodding along with a dopey half-smile on his face. "Sound like fun to Buu! We go now?"
Altanis shook her head, forcing a somber expression to crawl onto her features. "Unfortunately, no...not just yet. However!" She held up a hand, one finger raised to forestall the inevitable whining and protests. "...very soon. I have a meeting with a potential ally to attend to, to arrange assistance for us in breaking through the walls of their fortifications, so we can take our fight directly to them. We must, after all...make sure we are properly ready to make them play a game of our choosing. Wouldn't want them to cheat, like they did before, now would we?"
Though clearly displeased by this news, both the madman and the marshmallow seemed to begrudgingly accept it. "Very good. Now then, while I am way...I do have tasks for both of you."
"What you want from Buu?" the majin demanded, far more grumpily now.
"I'm all ears, Boss-Lady!" Malloki responded, shuffling around into something that was an utter mockery of even trying to stand at attention. "What are we gonna do today?"
"Buu..." Altanis regarded him warily, with a critical eye. She knew that she had to be delicate about this...making it a direct order, or trying to force him into doing it would only instill an immediate resentment, and do nothing but cause immediate problems. Simply asking or requesting it of him might simply make him forgetful or not inclined to actually do it, though. Which left only... "Are you satisfied with the rations and food we've been able to procure on our march thus far?"
Buu's face, if anything, screwed up even more and his mouth stretched into a comically deep frown. "Buu not like normal food. Not enough candy!"
The hellspawn nodded understandingly, her thoughts racing far ahead of her actual words as she pondered the right way to phrase this. "I've heard that some of the other soldiers among our group are also similarly...dissatisfied with the food options available." She glanced at some of the lingering soldiers nearby, raising one eyebrow slightly. Immediately, they stepped forward with a varying chorus of agreements about how everything was 'okay' at the absolute best.
"So, Buu...how would you like to be helpful? I've heard about your transfiguration powers." She extended a hand, palm up. "I'm sure that not only you, but everyone else would be very grateful and appreciative if you were to put them to a...constructive use." The majin's head titled to one side, his scowl abating slightly out of curiosity. "Go find Sergeant Jayce. I believe he has been....promoted to the position of overseeing our stores of supplies. Assist him in transforming our normal rations for the day into something more palatable, that everyone will enjoy."
"You mean...Buu get to eat whatever Buu wants?"
"Only the normal allotment of rations, but yes. Whatever you want." She smiled. "And I am sure that everyone else will be immensely grateful, too. It will be a fine way to make some friends."
The majin childishly clapped, his deep-set frown quite literally turning upside down as he laughed with glee. "Buu like food, but Buu also like friends!"
Inwardly, Altanis smirked. 'All too easy.'
"Very good, Buu." And she turned to the others nearby. "Which of you would like to escort Buu here to his new appointment?"
After some murmuring and uneasy shifting among the ranks, several of the troops quickly dispersed and excused themselves, but one bravely stepped forward. "I-I'll escort him over, ma'am." And he looked up at Buu. "Uh...this way, Buu." And he quickly set off, with Buu prancing happily behind him with his usual excited and exaggerated swagger, smile splitting his face from ear to ear...figuratively speaking.
"And as for you..." Altanis turned back to regard Malloki, who was by now hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation. "I have a much more special job for you."
"Oooh, special!" Malloki's eyes sparkled and he rushed forward, practically throwing himself at the hellspawn and wrapping his arms around her humanoid waist in a hug. "I knew it! What are we up to? Some kind of secret mission? Some undercover operation? Are we gonna go steal all the gingerbread in the city?" Whether he noticed that it left him dangling off the ground, or if he even cared, was a complete mystery. He was too wrapped up in his excitement and wandering imagination.
Altanis rolled her eyes and managed to suppress the urge to tear the man's head off. She knew all too well about his strange...powers, and had no desire to have them turned on her. Instead, she just patted his head with faux-affection, and then took a firm grasp as she gently but insistently pulled him back and away from her. Quite literally holding him aloft by the head in her outstretched hand, she applied just enough force so that her clawed nails dug into his skin, beginning to draw pinpricks of blood.
She could feel the sting of it on her own scalp, but ignored the tiny flames of pain and simply fixed the living voodoo with a bright smile. "Nothing quite so fantastic, just yet. But you, my little bundle of chaos, are going to accompany me to my meeting." She watched with some amusement as Malloki positively danced a jig while suspended in the air, swaying to and fro in her grasp. "Make sure you are on your best behavior. Don't try to play with the ones we meet with...not unless they make the first move. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am!" though he otherwise hung limply, the deranged man snapped one arm up to his forehead in something resembling a salute. "I will make sure no one starts a game until we're ready to play!"
"Good, good..." The general simply dropped the man to the ground, where he plopped down on his read in the grass. "Go get yourself ready. Find a proper uniform to put on, to make a...better impression. I'll let you know when we're ready to depart."
Malloki was already gone by the time she had finished the words, leaving the tactician to just helplessly roll her eyes. "He will be good insurance if something goes wrong, at the very least..."
Just as requested, Malloki and Buu had been summoned. But they had not been kept apart, and now they were...posing difficulties.
"You want to play with Buu?" the rotund pink marshmallow said incredulously, hands on his hips as he peered dubiously at the messy pile of human-shaped nervous energy called Malloki. "You not look like much fun. Buu make you dead too easy!"
"But that wouldn't be any fun at all!" the manic man wailed, flailing one arm around as if to highlight exactly the span of much 'not fun' it all was. "We can't let playtime end that quickly! We haven't even decided on a game yet!"
"You not make sense to Buu." The majin's face crinkled into a deep scowl. "Maybe Buu make you dead just for being annoying!"
It was at this moment that several other troops quickly rushed in to get between the two. "Whoa, whoa, settle down now, Buu! You can't, he'll just make you hurt yourself!"
With only a hint of a smirk on her face, Altanis stepped forward. "Gentlemen..." And she could only manage to half-stifle the chuckle at using such a word to describe these two. "...please save your enthusiasm for later. We will have a target for it to be directed at in full force soon enough."
Immediately, Malloki whipped around at the sound of her voice and fixed her with a glassy-eyed, manic-grinning stare. "You mean....?!"
"Yes. Actual, strong targets. Past that city up north we were forced to leave from...there are many actual fighters there." Even in her brief interactions with and observations of this pair, she had already begun to get an inkling of how they worked. What made their simple minds tick, and what they wanted out of all this. "Much more worth your time, and able to play for much longer than the lackluster...civilians in the city itself."
Buu now had his rapt attention on the general as well, and was nodding along with a dopey half-smile on his face. "Sound like fun to Buu! We go now?"
Altanis shook her head, forcing a somber expression to crawl onto her features. "Unfortunately, no...not just yet. However!" She held up a hand, one finger raised to forestall the inevitable whining and protests. "...very soon. I have a meeting with a potential ally to attend to, to arrange assistance for us in breaking through the walls of their fortifications, so we can take our fight directly to them. We must, after all...make sure we are properly ready to make them play a game of our choosing. Wouldn't want them to cheat, like they did before, now would we?"
Though clearly displeased by this news, both the madman and the marshmallow seemed to begrudgingly accept it. "Very good. Now then, while I am way...I do have tasks for both of you."
"What you want from Buu?" the majin demanded, far more grumpily now.
"I'm all ears, Boss-Lady!" Malloki responded, shuffling around into something that was an utter mockery of even trying to stand at attention. "What are we gonna do today?"
"Buu..." Altanis regarded him warily, with a critical eye. She knew that she had to be delicate about this...making it a direct order, or trying to force him into doing it would only instill an immediate resentment, and do nothing but cause immediate problems. Simply asking or requesting it of him might simply make him forgetful or not inclined to actually do it, though. Which left only... "Are you satisfied with the rations and food we've been able to procure on our march thus far?"
Buu's face, if anything, screwed up even more and his mouth stretched into a comically deep frown. "Buu not like normal food. Not enough candy!"
The hellspawn nodded understandingly, her thoughts racing far ahead of her actual words as she pondered the right way to phrase this. "I've heard that some of the other soldiers among our group are also similarly...dissatisfied with the food options available." She glanced at some of the lingering soldiers nearby, raising one eyebrow slightly. Immediately, they stepped forward with a varying chorus of agreements about how everything was 'okay' at the absolute best.
"So, Buu...how would you like to be helpful? I've heard about your transfiguration powers." She extended a hand, palm up. "I'm sure that not only you, but everyone else would be very grateful and appreciative if you were to put them to a...constructive use." The majin's head titled to one side, his scowl abating slightly out of curiosity. "Go find Sergeant Jayce. I believe he has been....promoted to the position of overseeing our stores of supplies. Assist him in transforming our normal rations for the day into something more palatable, that everyone will enjoy."
"You mean...Buu get to eat whatever Buu wants?"
"Only the normal allotment of rations, but yes. Whatever you want." She smiled. "And I am sure that everyone else will be immensely grateful, too. It will be a fine way to make some friends."
The majin childishly clapped, his deep-set frown quite literally turning upside down as he laughed with glee. "Buu like food, but Buu also like friends!"
Inwardly, Altanis smirked. 'All too easy.'
"Very good, Buu." And she turned to the others nearby. "Which of you would like to escort Buu here to his new appointment?"
After some murmuring and uneasy shifting among the ranks, several of the troops quickly dispersed and excused themselves, but one bravely stepped forward. "I-I'll escort him over, ma'am." And he looked up at Buu. "Uh...this way, Buu." And he quickly set off, with Buu prancing happily behind him with his usual excited and exaggerated swagger, smile splitting his face from ear to ear...figuratively speaking.
"And as for you..." Altanis turned back to regard Malloki, who was by now hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation. "I have a much more special job for you."
"Oooh, special!" Malloki's eyes sparkled and he rushed forward, practically throwing himself at the hellspawn and wrapping his arms around her humanoid waist in a hug. "I knew it! What are we up to? Some kind of secret mission? Some undercover operation? Are we gonna go steal all the gingerbread in the city?" Whether he noticed that it left him dangling off the ground, or if he even cared, was a complete mystery. He was too wrapped up in his excitement and wandering imagination.
Altanis rolled her eyes and managed to suppress the urge to tear the man's head off. She knew all too well about his strange...powers, and had no desire to have them turned on her. Instead, she just patted his head with faux-affection, and then took a firm grasp as she gently but insistently pulled him back and away from her. Quite literally holding him aloft by the head in her outstretched hand, she applied just enough force so that her clawed nails dug into his skin, beginning to draw pinpricks of blood.
She could feel the sting of it on her own scalp, but ignored the tiny flames of pain and simply fixed the living voodoo with a bright smile. "Nothing quite so fantastic, just yet. But you, my little bundle of chaos, are going to accompany me to my meeting." She watched with some amusement as Malloki positively danced a jig while suspended in the air, swaying to and fro in her grasp. "Make sure you are on your best behavior. Don't try to play with the ones we meet with...not unless they make the first move. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am!" though he otherwise hung limply, the deranged man snapped one arm up to his forehead in something resembling a salute. "I will make sure no one starts a game until we're ready to play!"
"Good, good..." The general simply dropped the man to the ground, where he plopped down on his read in the grass. "Go get yourself ready. Find a proper uniform to put on, to make a...better impression. I'll let you know when we're ready to depart."
Malloki was already gone by the time she had finished the words, leaving the tactician to just helplessly roll her eyes. "He will be good insurance if something goes wrong, at the very least..."
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As they departed from the ruins of the village, in spite of everything that had happened...Altanis didn't seem terribly displeased. Disgruntled and incredibly irked at the fact she had actually been injured, even in a minor way, but she seemed almost not to care about the events in the village otherwise.
"Looks like your plan kinda fell apart at the end, there, General," Corporal Derrick grunted, swiftly stepping up to fall into step alongside her and handing over a list of injuries and casualties occurred during the escape from Uxmal.
"On the contrary, Corporal..." Altanis smirked, reaching down to take the reports and quickly leaf through them. "It went exactly as I had predicted and hoped."
"Huh?" the medic seemed completely flummoxed, nearly tripping in mid-stride. "Could...you explain, ma'am? What exactly happened back there?"
"Several things, Corporal." She gingerly brushed her fingers along one of the minor wounds she had suffered. The armor she had procured from the original armory had taken much of bite out of the unexpected suicide attack...but it still stung. Stung her pride as much as her body, that she had been so easily manhandled and overpowered.
"I had no expectations of Lieutenant Connor and his troops actually defecting to join us," the tactician went on after a moment. "That was...a test, I suppose you could call it. One that had exactly the results I anticipated."
Another soldier near at hand, several paces back, overheard this. Curiosity getting the better of her, she picked up her pace somewhat to hurry forward. "Ma'am, may I ask...what exactly was it that you were anticipating, then?"
"Very bold of you, Private Morris," the centaur murmured. "Though I suppose it would be best to explain...I was rather brief with the plans back at the village." She handed the reports back to Derrick, who nodded grimly as he took them again. "As I said, I predicted that Connor and his men would not join us. That was merely a test of their mettle; to see what they were made of. Their spirit and morale has been....damaged, but not broken. Their loyalty to the leadership, to Princess-Commander Azula, is shaking...but to their direct superior?" She sneered, shaking her head. Several more troops had quickened their pace to move forward, into easier earshot of the conversation. "Their devotion to Connor himself is unwavering, and implacable. They did not even hesitate to throw their lives away to ensure he could escape."
There was a murmuring from the nearby Hell Divers as they heard this. "And you really just...guessed all that, General?"
"Not all of it. The depth of their loyalty was a surprise even to me, but the end results were the same." She momentarily went silent, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "...though I suppose the destruction of the entire village was not within my expectations. That could be called the only flaw."
"Yeah, it is a shame that it went up like that..." came the general agreement from the assembled men and women. "Good thing it was empty at least, huh?"
"Had it not been empty, then things would have gone very differently," Altanis said sharply. "But that is a matter to be dismissed; it was empty, and so its destruction was merely unfortunate rather than tragic."
"What about everything else that happened?" another voice tentatively spoke up. "All that...chaos can't have been what we were there for!"
"Do not be so sure of that. Everything that happened there has...a purpose..." She sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, briefly shaking her head to clear a minor spell of dizziness. The way her head had been rattled around...that wound would likely fade in time and not be a major issue...but in the immediate term, it was an irritating nuisance.
"Our actions there will no doubt give the Princess-Commander something else to occupy her attention. The loss of one of her precious villages, and a perceived betrayal of what could have been a valuable alliance." She sneered again, turning to cast a sweeping gaze over the surrounding lands. "She will be a very busy woman, and the more her focus is spread, the less able she will be to focus on and tend to any specific task."
There was a surprised, confused round of murmuring and chatter among the soldiers at this. Many of them seemed angry...all that work for something like that? It wasn't a surprise; the results weren't something immediate and obvious. But in the end, they would be...fruitful, all the same.
"It was also, however...an emergency tactic of survival and espionage," the hellion went on more firmly. Her sudden speech brought a quick hush to the troops near at hand. "Largely speaking, from a strategic perspective...we were vulnerable and in a perilous position. Agreeing to an alliance in such a fashion, and forging our way south to assist with the business in that village...it bought us enough trust for them to look the other way, if only for a time. A brief window to act, and gather valuable information, and forge a clearer path back to more familiar ground."
"Though this might be a failure in the sense that not all of us have walked away unscathed and alive," she went on, her voice raising to a higher, clearer pitch. "It is a success in another way. What have we learned, from this hastily-assembled expedition?"
There was another bout of confused murmuring. The scouts and messengers of the Wicked Lake of Fire were quick to produce their notes and maps, checking their records and conferring with each other about the events of the past few days. Slowly, but surely...the picture became evident. Individually, of course, everything they had gathered might have been...only somewhat useful. It was when taken all together that it started to become a clearer whole, and what it could mean became evident.
"I will not be so crass as to say 'twenty-five of our own is a small price to pay for such intelligence'," Altanis remarked, with a twisted scowl. "Though in spite of it all, we did inflict more losses upon the other side than we suffered." She couldn't care less for the lives of these...mortals, beyond their immediate use to her. If it had taken the lives of a hundred and twenty-five, she wouldn't have batted an eye.
She wisely decided to keep that to herself, however.
"There's just one more thing, General..." another soldier spoke up, seeming hopelessly confused. "That second group that turned up, with the Miniskirts. Were you expecting them too? There's no way..."
"I was not expecting them in particular, no." A chuckle of genuine amusement came from the centaur at that. "Of all the things I am, clairvoyant is not one of them. I did, however, predict there might be...other guests involved. Our alliance was forged quickly and uncertainly, after all...and a simple trial task like that one would be insufficient to truly prove anything. It would have been foolish to not have such precautions and assistance prepared to be sent along, or after us."
"Damn." The soldier in question laughed, shaking his head in exasperation. "I never would've thought about it like that."
"Few would, Private." Altanis grinned, returning her focus ahead. "Few would. Now...less talking. We have much ground to cover before and not enough time to cover it in."
"Yes, General!"
"Looks like your plan kinda fell apart at the end, there, General," Corporal Derrick grunted, swiftly stepping up to fall into step alongside her and handing over a list of injuries and casualties occurred during the escape from Uxmal.
"On the contrary, Corporal..." Altanis smirked, reaching down to take the reports and quickly leaf through them. "It went exactly as I had predicted and hoped."
"Huh?" the medic seemed completely flummoxed, nearly tripping in mid-stride. "Could...you explain, ma'am? What exactly happened back there?"
"Several things, Corporal." She gingerly brushed her fingers along one of the minor wounds she had suffered. The armor she had procured from the original armory had taken much of bite out of the unexpected suicide attack...but it still stung. Stung her pride as much as her body, that she had been so easily manhandled and overpowered.
"I had no expectations of Lieutenant Connor and his troops actually defecting to join us," the tactician went on after a moment. "That was...a test, I suppose you could call it. One that had exactly the results I anticipated."
Another soldier near at hand, several paces back, overheard this. Curiosity getting the better of her, she picked up her pace somewhat to hurry forward. "Ma'am, may I ask...what exactly was it that you were anticipating, then?"
"Very bold of you, Private Morris," the centaur murmured. "Though I suppose it would be best to explain...I was rather brief with the plans back at the village." She handed the reports back to Derrick, who nodded grimly as he took them again. "As I said, I predicted that Connor and his men would not join us. That was merely a test of their mettle; to see what they were made of. Their spirit and morale has been....damaged, but not broken. Their loyalty to the leadership, to Princess-Commander Azula, is shaking...but to their direct superior?" She sneered, shaking her head. Several more troops had quickened their pace to move forward, into easier earshot of the conversation. "Their devotion to Connor himself is unwavering, and implacable. They did not even hesitate to throw their lives away to ensure he could escape."
There was a murmuring from the nearby Hell Divers as they heard this. "And you really just...guessed all that, General?"
"Not all of it. The depth of their loyalty was a surprise even to me, but the end results were the same." She momentarily went silent, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "...though I suppose the destruction of the entire village was not within my expectations. That could be called the only flaw."
"Yeah, it is a shame that it went up like that..." came the general agreement from the assembled men and women. "Good thing it was empty at least, huh?"
"Had it not been empty, then things would have gone very differently," Altanis said sharply. "But that is a matter to be dismissed; it was empty, and so its destruction was merely unfortunate rather than tragic."
"What about everything else that happened?" another voice tentatively spoke up. "All that...chaos can't have been what we were there for!"
"Do not be so sure of that. Everything that happened there has...a purpose..." She sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, briefly shaking her head to clear a minor spell of dizziness. The way her head had been rattled around...that wound would likely fade in time and not be a major issue...but in the immediate term, it was an irritating nuisance.
"Our actions there will no doubt give the Princess-Commander something else to occupy her attention. The loss of one of her precious villages, and a perceived betrayal of what could have been a valuable alliance." She sneered again, turning to cast a sweeping gaze over the surrounding lands. "She will be a very busy woman, and the more her focus is spread, the less able she will be to focus on and tend to any specific task."
There was a surprised, confused round of murmuring and chatter among the soldiers at this. Many of them seemed angry...all that work for something like that? It wasn't a surprise; the results weren't something immediate and obvious. But in the end, they would be...fruitful, all the same.
"It was also, however...an emergency tactic of survival and espionage," the hellion went on more firmly. Her sudden speech brought a quick hush to the troops near at hand. "Largely speaking, from a strategic perspective...we were vulnerable and in a perilous position. Agreeing to an alliance in such a fashion, and forging our way south to assist with the business in that village...it bought us enough trust for them to look the other way, if only for a time. A brief window to act, and gather valuable information, and forge a clearer path back to more familiar ground."
"Though this might be a failure in the sense that not all of us have walked away unscathed and alive," she went on, her voice raising to a higher, clearer pitch. "It is a success in another way. What have we learned, from this hastily-assembled expedition?"
There was another bout of confused murmuring. The scouts and messengers of the Wicked Lake of Fire were quick to produce their notes and maps, checking their records and conferring with each other about the events of the past few days. Slowly, but surely...the picture became evident. Individually, of course, everything they had gathered might have been...only somewhat useful. It was when taken all together that it started to become a clearer whole, and what it could mean became evident.
"I will not be so crass as to say 'twenty-five of our own is a small price to pay for such intelligence'," Altanis remarked, with a twisted scowl. "Though in spite of it all, we did inflict more losses upon the other side than we suffered." She couldn't care less for the lives of these...mortals, beyond their immediate use to her. If it had taken the lives of a hundred and twenty-five, she wouldn't have batted an eye.
She wisely decided to keep that to herself, however.
"There's just one more thing, General..." another soldier spoke up, seeming hopelessly confused. "That second group that turned up, with the Miniskirts. Were you expecting them too? There's no way..."
"I was not expecting them in particular, no." A chuckle of genuine amusement came from the centaur at that. "Of all the things I am, clairvoyant is not one of them. I did, however, predict there might be...other guests involved. Our alliance was forged quickly and uncertainly, after all...and a simple trial task like that one would be insufficient to truly prove anything. It would have been foolish to not have such precautions and assistance prepared to be sent along, or after us."
"Damn." The soldier in question laughed, shaking his head in exasperation. "I never would've thought about it like that."
"Few would, Private." Altanis grinned, returning her focus ahead. "Few would. Now...less talking. We have much ground to cover before and not enough time to cover it in."
"Yes, General!"
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