Joined on the 4th of July
Arcane
- Joined
- Jul 4, 2014
- Messages
- 1,563
Should have been Decline14_Wasteland2_Directors_Cut
Can we restart? I think I uploaded the wrong Pretender.
Can we restart? I think I uploaded the wrong Pretender.
This is a joke right
It was not a particularly pleasant rousal for Maximus. He awoke with a splitting headache. It was just one of those days he guessed.
Except it clearly wasn't, was it? He grudgingly got up to his feet and realized something rather profound.
This was not his bed. Indeed this was not a bed at all and could hardly be mistaken for one. He was in a desert. A desert filled with sand. Well obviously, what else should a desert be filled with. He thought about a few more preferable things.
Then an even deeper realization hit him.
The desert and this blasted sand was everywhere. Truly. It enthusiastically stuck even to the most unsavory places.
Maximus flapped his wings a few times and did his best to discreetly brush away as much of it as he could. He failed spectacularly and sighed.
It was hot. Way too hot in fact. The sun blazed with a fiery vengeance bent on immolating the whole damn world.
He heard a shout from behind and turned to find a stout, puffy cheeked general scampering his way.
The troops called the man the barrel general. The name is not very creative but it fits rather well.
Cuntificus, report.
Avenging Master Maximus, it seems we've crash landed in this...
At a loss for words General Cuntificus simply gestured at their surroundings.
This. I can not say where we are nor how we came to be here. Half the troops think we've been bewitched while the other half thinks we're dead, though my baton did a good job of disillusioning them!
He shook his baton vigorously.
Any casualties?
Well a few, naturally. I had to crack open some skulls to get the message across.
He chuckled.
Maximus gave him a stare that sent a shiver down Cuntificus' spine even with the blazing sun and all the general's excess insulating fat.
Aham. I meant to say the fall decimated the legion Master Maximus. Our dead litter the desert floor and just about every soldier suffered some sort of injury. It doesn't look like we'll be airborn any time soon.
Maximus stood for a moment, looking over his broken ninth legion and the vast and empty desert as far as the eye could see.
The last thing he remembers before waking up was hearing these voices and then... nothing. Was it nothing though? He vaguely remembered a dream and in this dream a promise of unimaginable power if he would just...
Ahmpfff.
The fat little general interrupted Maximus' train of thought.
Avenging Master Maximus. What are your orders?
We must proceed with caution. Our numbers are respectable but we are on our own for the time being and in no condition to fight. Set up camp and send out scouting parties far and wide. I want to know more about this strange new world.
Maximus awoke to utter and all-enveloping darkness.
Where am I?
Home.
Mother?
What? No you simpleton.
I don't know. You sound an awfully lot like her.
The Darkness sighed and slumped as much as an entity with no physical form could.
Who are you?
A better question would be what am I? I am the all encompassing emptiness. I am chaos. I am the beginning and the end. I, am the Darkness. It is by my will that you are here.
How?
Magic.
Oh that's such a cop out!
What do you mean?
You can't just say magic. Not like you just snapped your fingers and brought me here.
Well not just you, your entire army, but that's beside the point. And actually that's exactly what I did. Well minus the fingers part. No hands, see?
That's a terrible joke.
Oh right. You can't see me. This whole immaterial slash darkness thing. Hehe. That was kinda my point actually. Anyway, like I said, magic baby. Boom, you're here.
It's called artistic licence.
Huh?
You know. And the very fabric of space was torn asunder as an ancient and terrible being of tremendous power reaches across the planes and brought forth the legendary Legio IX.
That's actually pretty good.
I'm a writer, not a fighter. Jk, I'm a man of many talented and hidden depts.
Indeed. Now my young champion, let us discuss why you're here...
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It was well past midnight as Spymaster Fabulousius Extremus entered the fortification proper, if a heap of gathered sand that could barely stand up against the wind let alone an army could be call a fortification. He strode forth directly for the command tend where Avenging Master Comradus Maximus Diabolicus was sound asleep.
Cough, cough.
Fabulousius? Uhh. This better be good Dorothy.
Master Maximus, I bring news. My scouts report that we've found bats.
Bats?
Bats. Bats riding rats.
You're not making much sense there Rapunzel.
Far to the west there is a city of bat people. Xoco they call it. A despicable, foul, plague ridden heap of guano. They are led by a dried up husk with claims on godhood. It goes by the name of... Maximus.
What? How is that even..? Doesn't matter. There are more important things that demand my attention for the time being. Assemble the council first thing in the morning. Now skip. Skip away. Skip away. That's a good Rapunzel.