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+--- Thread: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth (/showthread.php?tid=2532)
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[M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 09-16-2015
The low buzz created by the fletching of an arrow narrowly missing her head made Trixie jerk to the left. Her opponent had been reported as a master marksman. She could feel the warm trickle of blood from the surface laceration the arrowhead had made as it gently touched her cheek on the way by. Twirling the gladius in her right hand she swapped hands with a gentle toss. Trixie pressed her right pointer finger to her cheek and examined the blood that had stained her skin. Whatever Jorgan had done, her senses were now all screaming at her brain to process information faster than ever before. She could hear the snap of the bow string as another arrow took flight. As if time had been standing still the entire time Trixie side stepped the projectile and gently lifted it out of its trajectory with her free hand. Pivoting on her heel she rotated around another arrow, this one just barely catching the leather armor she had strapped to her torso.
The bowstring snapped again and another arrow was in flight. In one graceful move Trixie snapped the arrow she had in her hand in two and threw the tip at her opponent's leg. Spinning around to meet the oncoming arrow she placed the palm of her hand to the flat part of her gladius and met the arrow with the broad side of the blade. With an upwards motion she deflected the arrow into the stands where it struck a food vendor. The crowd erupted into both laughter and cheers. The vendor was mugged for his edible merchandise and currency.
With a smirk Trixie watch as her marksman arena enemy pulled his previously launched arrowhead from his thigh. Stumbling backward he drew and knocked another arrow just as the now white haired mistress charged. Blood would be spilled and Beatrix would do anything to achieve it. The marksman loosed his arrow and with a fleshy thud it landed just under his enemies left collarbone, but it did nothing to halt the progress of her stampede. Blood sprayed Trixie in the face as she drove her sword upward through his abdomen and under his ribs. Twisting the blade she pierced through his back side. Not satisfied she ripped the arrow from her shoulder and plunged it into his eye socket before wrenching his head to the side. Exposing her newly grown fangs she bit down hard on his neck and ripped his throat out. Blood gushed from the open wound, covering the both of them. With an enraged battle cry Trixie pushed her dying opponent to the ground.
As his blood pooled on the sand covered arena floor the spectators stood to cheer for her victory. A horn signalled the end of the match and the gates built into the walls of the ring opened. Sia Morelli, head of security for the female pit fighters, exited from beneath the stands to escort Trixie back to the holding area. She was wielding her trademark bat and being followed by her hand chosen bodyguards.
“Prisoner 11256, congratulations on your victory. Come with me back to holding.” Sia commanded as she unleashed a nasty swing to the back of the white haired mistress’ head.
With a snap of her fingers Sia’s guards carried the unconscious Trixie towards the exit of the ring. A brilliant display of colours flashed before the indentured warrior as she was bludgeoned into a deep slumber. Beatrix saw Nova crying in her apartment, the battle where she was sucked into wherever she currently presided. It was all violently erased by the permanent scowl of that woman who looked just like her. Those glowing pink eyes. She had seemed to know something about what was happening.
Those eyes.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Proto Man - 09-18-2015
The woman had seen the battle theaters in her home world… both in the annals of history and the ruins they’d left behind after generations of disuse.
Here, in the endless expanse of the Omniverse’s Hell, the coliseum was an attraction with very few rivals. Day after day, its sand and dirt was stained with the blood of the slain. Those who kept coming back for more claimed that there was some sort of prize at the end. Did they really believe that? Better yet… did they really expect to survive long enough to find out?
Her hair stained red with a mixture of her blood and that of a now open-chested man, Scylla stumbled toward the pit-like chambers where the contestants waited for their next challenge. In just a few short months, the woman had accrued a couple minor victories. As someone who had willingly offered their services as a gladiator, she was mostly pitted against slaves and anyone who had fallen from the graces of the rulers.
Thirty feet behind the woman, the corpse she’d left behind was that of a man who thought he could threaten some sort of local thug. Instead, he’d been beaten to within an inch of his life and thrown into the coliseum for what amounted to a mercy killing at the hands of the somber woman with the ‘dead eyes.’ No one seemed thrilled when she competed, and why would they? She could mentally overwhelm all the drivel and human filth they threw at her feet. Fights weren’t entertaining when one of the contestants willing gouged out their own eyes.
People with more importance than her told Scylla she needed to fight with ‘a little more flair.’ They spoke of earning sponsors and ‘friends in high places,’ but the woman was concerned with none of that. Rumors spoke of an escape by weaseling ones way through to the ranks of the champions, but she was concerned only with growing her own strength. She would murder this place’s filth until she grew strong enough to escape of her own volition… she would not see herself subjugated or devoid of free will. The irony that she, an Archdemon, could be reduced to the role of a hapless minion was not lost on her.
With the gates creaking shut behind her, Scylla walked over to the closest empty bench and stared at the opposing wall. Once her eyes were closed, her thoughts were inward—focused on the wounds she had been unable to mend before he most recent summoning to the arena floor. The dog-man who had given her the wounds had been the closest thing to a genuine challenge for her in weeks. His claws had torn through her pale white flesh, and his mind was strong enough to resist her attempts at domination. Despite his ferocity (and oh how the crowd had loved when he tore her open), he failed to finish the job before she uprooted a piece of the arena floor and crushed him.
As her flesh shimmered with omnilium, Scylla opened her eyes and took a silent moment to glance around. Like usual on these nights, the room was filled with other individuals who had volunteered to put themselves into these gruesome public events. They knew she was there, but like always, no one spoke to her. Scylla appreciated that on many levels. She sat in silence as they exchanged their usual bits of pointless gossip.
“You see that fight earlier? They threw that crazy-eyed prisoner in with that marksman.” A lizard-faced gladiator asked to a smaller warrior with four arms.
“The guy who put an arrow through Green Steve? They must have wanted her gone.”
“You’d think, but I guess she gutted him like a fish. Shrugged off a few arrows and shanked him like a prison bitch.”
“Fuck, I don’t want to deal with legitimately psychotic prisoners… That’s bullshit. Shouldn’t they be locked safely away where they can’t hurt any innocent bystanders or something?”
“You’re just a little chicken-shit… I’d tear that broad in half like wet paper.”
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 10-01-2015
It had been just over two weeks since the carrier from the Vergo had deployed the 15th Infantry Division to Belsavis. A power struggle within the ranks of the 23rd and 45th Infantry Divisions had led to a merger creating the 34th Division. A large sect of disgruntled Sith soldiers had abandoned their post due to this sudden change in leadership and had gone AWOL. Staff Sergeant Beatrix Zulenka and Able Company of the 15th Infantry Division were tasked with spearheading the search on Belsavis for the largest group of renegade soldiers. Desertion was grounds for immediate execution in the Empire so temporary war time protocols were enacted to quickly and efficiently end the outburst of dissidents. It had been raining nonstop since their arrival at base camp Delta. The weather was always a steady cold downpour with occasional severe electrical storms cropping up. As the Staff Sergeant sat at the doorway to the barracks tent, staring out into the dense forest they had been searching day by day, she smiled.
This was Able Company’s eighth combat deployment. Trixie always felt right as rain when deployed in the field. It was eight o'clock in the morning, but the dark rain clouds made it seem like dusk. Distant rolls of thunder swept across dense woodland eventually catching up to the camp with a gentle rattle of loose objects lying around. Delta Camp was a small two tent facility; Tent A was the Radio Room and makeshift weapons depot while Tent B was the largest of the two length wise. It housed the bunks and temporary quarters for each of the soldiers in Able. Both of the entrances to each tent was facing a large open covering that held a fire pit in the middle creating a makeshift mess area.
The Staff Sergeant checked the digital readout on her watch and noted it was fifteen past the hour. Command wanted updates to be synchronized with each other so each company could update their maps at the same time keeping everyone informed. As Sergeant Masters rolled over in his bunk by the door and let out a loud snore, Beatrix picked up her rifle and trudged across to the radio room. Closing the tent flap behind her she eyed the large table sitting behind the radio desk. Flipping a couple of switches the surface of the table lit up with the planet's surface as scanned by the Vergo. Rotating a knob a chart plot appeared and began zooming in. Digital writing that marked the location of camp Delta appeared just next to an updated image of Able Company’s tents. Taking a headset from a stand on the desk Trixie switched on the radio and tuned it to the right frequency.
“Able One Five, over.” She spoke into the microphone.
Other voices could be heard from different speakers of all the other squads and units updating Command on their progress. The map before her updated with a circled area just north of her camp in the woods. It read “Possible Assault - Advise Able.”
Trixie eyed who had wrote it. Henderson from Bravo. They only had a Corporal left? A loud clap of thunder made her vision shift to the time of post. Five minutes ago...
“This is Command, Able One Five. Anything to report?”
It wasn’t thunder.
A loud explosion shook the camp as an artillery round exploded nearby, showering the tents with splintered wood.
“Able One Five under fire.” She said calmly into the microphone as another shell whizzed overhead.
The rain was coming down so hard it made it impossible to shoot accurately. Especially big guns. Normally procedure was to sound the alarm, but Beatrix knew the rain was masking their position; at least for now. She made the call. Tossing the headset onto the floor she grasped her rifle and sprinted across into the barracks.
“Sergeant Masters get up. We have work to do.” She kicked his bunk, waking him from his sleep.
Soldiers began to rouse from their bunks. “Able Company on your feet!”
Like clockwork the unit began to armor up and gear up for combat. Within two minutes squads of two soldiers were being ushered out the back of the barracks tent and around to the tree line. A single shout from a scout ushered in the usual combat frenzy as the defectors opened fire on any silhouette they saw through the rain. While they were ex-Imperial Soldiers they were not among the best. Staff Sergeant Zulenka was infinitely better, or she liked to think so. Sprinting alongside a private from her unit they were the final two to arrive at the tree line which had come under fire. Stopping behind a tree Trixie reached into her belt and pulled out a detonator. Flipping open the cap like a zippo she pressed the little red button and threw it to the ground. Pushing the Private to move they fled further into the woods. Moments later Delta Camp erupted into hell fire as everything was incinerated.
This is why in basic they told you to never take anything on a deployment you couldn’t afford to lose or to be damn sure you had everything you needed when you left camp. Able Company had been ambushed, but not by much. This did mean that there was now a hole in the front lines where the Empire had set down the 15th Infantry Division. Without Able Company in the middle of Bravo and Charlie, the dissidents could push back freely.
Trixie wasn’t going to let that happen.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 10-08-2015
Staff Sergeant Beatrix Zulenka had pulled Able Company back to the tree line to regroup. The dissidents had caught wind of her move and they were peppering the tree line with sporadic blaster fire and mortar blasts.
“Able One Five requesting fire support! Base Camp Delta! Danger close!” Trixie shouted into a radio mounted to one of her squadmates backpacks through exploding trees and mortar rounds.
“This is the Vergo, Able One Five. Carrier is inbound. Thirty seconds.” A voice crackled in reply.
“Sergeant Zulenka! Corporal Henderson of Bravo One Five is on the second line for you!.” The radio man said, handing her a phone.
Raising her rifle in the direction of the burning camp she unleashed a spray of red energy fire. Taking the radio she looked to Sergeant Masters. “Keep the pressure on!”
“Henderson! Talk to me” She said, placing the earpiece to her ear.
***
WAKE UP IMPOSTER!
A splash of water rousted the makeshift arena gladiator from her literal dirt nap. Sia was standing at the entrance to her slave pen. The holding area of the arena was in chaos.
“Get up, 11256. We’re leaving.”
The blonde former Lieutenant grabbed the white haired pit fighter and dragged her from the cage. Lifting Trixie to her feet with surprising strength the head of security placed a blade in the mistress’ hands and pushed her down a nearby corridor.
“What the fuck is going on, Sia?” Trixie knew who she was. She had seen her in Belial’s fortress. The only person to treat her with some sort of respect.
Morelli ducked into the corridor and held a finger to her lips. They both huddled to the wall as a detachment of guards ran by. Lifting her bat Sia rested it on her shoulder.
“Look. All you need to know is that down here two things rule over all else; primes that can fight are an extremely rare commodity and loyalty goes to the highest bidder. The demons may have armies and strength, but someone has paid me an incredible amount of money to get you out of here. They’ve also promised me something else.”
Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Shut up and move.” Sia said, rolling her eyes.
The two women made their way down into the sewer system of the arena. They came to a four way junction where Yennefer was waiting. Sia sighed.
“Tsk tsk. Belial will be…” The succubus was interrupted by a gladius blade entering her skull through the roof of her mouth. Trixie kicked the demon to her knees and twisted the blade around, ripping Yennefer’s head from her shoulders.
Blood spurted from the open wound as the the Head Mistress’ lifeless corpse collapsed to the sewer floor.
“That stupid cunt talked way too much. Blowing me up, getting me locked up, branding me.” Trixie spit on Yennefer’s body. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
Removing her skull from the blade Trixie brandished the blood stained weapon against the remaining guards. Both her and Sia carved their way through the ranks and made it to the exit. The ‘exit’ was a single grate that dropped off a cliff into a desert. They were cornered. Sia rotated her bat counter clockwise and jammed the tip into the ground creating a barrier.
“Jump! When you land, head west. I’ll meet up with you.” Sia commanded.
She reached into her pocket and removed a pair of white angel wings. Taking Trixie’s hand she placed them in her palm and closed her fist.
“When you meet him give him this. He’ll know you’re the one for the job.” Morelli instructed.
Trixie nodded and kicked open the steel grate. Looking down she swallowed nervously as the wind rustled her white hair. With a sharp inhale she resolved herself and took the plunge.
***
A squadron of fighters roared overhead, the bombers pounding base camp Delta. Staff Sergeant Zulenka of Able Company and Corporal Henderson of Bravo Company sprinted along the tree line with a small detachment of soldiers. The rest of their unit had made the charge up the middle using the air cover for support. A large gunship hovered over the clearing, it’s numerous turrets laying waste to the dissidents who had tried pushing through the front line. The huge repulsor engines shook the very ground Trixie was running on.
“NOW!” She ordered, immediately hanging a left and emerging from the cover of the trees.
Raising her weapon she opened fire on the scattering enemy soldiers behind the camp as she came over the crest of the hill. They had run into a reinforcing Charlie Company who had extended to close the line. Removing an energy cell Beatrix threw it on the ground and slammed a new one into her rifle. A thermal detonator came flying at her group from an enemy wielding a grenade launcher. With a leap she caught the device and threw it back. Landing on both feet she peered through her sights as the explosive detonated. Dropping to a knee as the shock wave slammed into her she fired at another group of dissidents. A second gunship dropped out of orbit and began to pummel the landscape with artillery size blaster fire. As a second and third squadron of fighters dropped into the airspace the remaining enemy soldiers began to surrender.
“Units on the ground. Execute prisoners.” Command ordered over the radio.
Trixie took the first shot and dropped one of the surrendered soldiers. One by one each of the prisoners were executed. Removing her helmet the redhead sighed as she turned the to smoldering remains of her camp. The lead gunship began to set down next to the Staff Sergeant. Able Company began to gather around the ship as it began to power down its engines. Sergeant Rackham from Charlie Company had come over to give his report and assist.
“Thanks for the warning, Henderson.” Zulenka said, taking out a pack of smokes from her kitbag.
“Just doing my job, Sarge. Everyone from Able okay?”
As Trixie flicked her lighter and took a drag off of a nicostick she nodded, exhaling the smoke through her nose.
“Yeah. No casualties reported. What about Bravo?” She changed her gaze to Sergeant Rackham, “And Charlie?”
“We lost a few in Bravo.” Henderson replied.
Rackham grunted in disgust. “Why are you in an officer huddle, Corporal?”
Henderson nervously lit his own nicostick and took a drag. With a laugh Trixie took a piece of paper from armor.
“This came over the wire last night, but you had gone out with the dusk patrol so I couldn’t tell you. Command is making you the Staff Sergeant for Bravo Company. McKinley’s death last week was sudden and they’ve been looking for a replacement.” She handed the paper to Henderson who unfolded the piece of paper to read it.
“Well I’ll be damned.” He said, surprised.
Trixie looked to Rackham and gave him the once over. “You’re dismissed, Sergeant. Return to your post.”
Sergeant Masters came from the other side of the transport with a piece of paper. Unfolding it she read what was written.
“Zero casualties for Belsavis Delta Camp Operation. New marching orders from command: We’re pushing into the forest to a bunker complex where the remaining 23rd Division is hiding out. The 45th deserters have already fled the planet.”
Crumpling the paper in her fist Trixie jammed it into her chest armor compartment.
“Well...give everyone twenty minutes to rest and get some food in their stomachs. Then we move out. DISMISSED!”
Sergeant Masters and Staff Sergeant Henderson saluted and left Zulenka to her musings.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Proto Man - 10-10-2015
With a dull thud, the hammerhead smashed into the ground in front of Scylla. Its wielder—a muscle-bound man with horns jutting out from his temples—swallowed back a scream of frustration as he tried to wrench his weapon free of the earth. “Release my weapon, Witch!”
“I’ll do you one better,” Scylla muttered as the ground around the warrior started to rumble. Before her foe could fathom what was happening, the spot he stood on dropped down about four feet into the defiled soil of the Underverse coliseum. A moment later, walls of magically hardened dirt crushed in around him. The man struggled in the cold embrace before his strength failed him, and in one final bone-chilling moment, the audience drew silent enough to hear and watch the warrior’s body crumple like an empty aluminum can.
At the realization of the fighter’s gruesome demise, the crowd of demons and damned souls broke out into thunderous applause—their lust for violence and orgasmic displays of gore once again satisfied by the somber woman who now strode back into the bloodworks. As she sat down onto a wooden bench, she overhead a few of the other gladiators talking once again.
“That prisoner… the one they called 11256, you know the one?” A man-ish sounding creature asked a peer.
“Oh yes, the fire brand,” a second individual replied with a snicker. “She finally get what was coming to her?”
“She got out last night, or at least, that’s what my buddy in the other bloodworks said. Apparently, she overpowered a guardswoman, chopped her head off, and slipped into the cistern.”
“She keeps digging herself deeper and deeper, heh. At this rate, Belial’s going to personally rip her to shreds.”
Scylla had only seen the woman in question fight on one occasion. In a battle a few days ago, ‘11256’ had managed to overpower and murder more than a few fighters and creatures larger and seemingly more skilled than her. While Scylla wasn’t one to be impressed by the folly of mortals, she did find it amusing that someone would try to buck the authority of a fascist hell-world.
If anything, it would provide a break from the monotony of killing her lesser, and since she was a fighter by her own free will, she had the freedom to walk away without incurring the wrath of a few hundred demon barons and eldritch monstrosities.
With a blank expression on her face, the bloodstained Archdemon rose from the bench and made her way out of the bloodworks. She would find this prisoner and figure out what all the talk was about.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 11-02-2015
The dry, scorching wind of the Underverse whipped at Trixie’s body as she plummeted feet first into the sand dune beneath the old cistern she had leapt from. The mountain of sand swallowed her whole, concealing her entrance as she submerged into the mountain of golden brown granulates. The mistress held her position beneath the surface, holding her breath to avoid detection. Weaving her arms through the sand that surrounded her she touched her pointer fingers together and summoned up a small amount of Omnilium. Visualizing a small narrow breathing pipe, she pulled her fingers apart and carefully formed a hollow bronze tube about two feet long. Bending one finger upward she created the mouthpiece; slowly pushing the top part out Trixie placed her lips to the tube and exhaled. It took every ounce of strength she had not to exhale all at once. Ensuring the top was clear of the dune she inhaled and replenished her oxygen supply. With her eyes still closed he listened to the silence around her, waiting until she felt it was safe to move. The creak of a metal grate closing was her signal. Beatrix clawed her way to the surface; a hand burst forth from the ground beneath the cistern drain built into the arena where she had escaped.
Pulling herself up and out of her body sized hole the white haired Sith shook the sand from her hair. Coughing and sputtering she fought to regain her breath and vision, wiping the dirt and sand from her pale white eyes. The purple sky was laced with blood red clouds that created a plethora of designs that could wonder one’s mind for hours, but Trixie didn’t have time to appreciate the stupid sky. She had to get to Sia’s contact. Belial was going to have people looking for her and now that Yennefer was dead it was highly likely that Jorgan was going to be responsible for bringing her corpse back to the palace. Slipping the little white artefact into her bra Beatrix began trudging through the sandy dunes westward into the heart of the desert.
***
It had been two days since Sia had split and Trixie had fled into the heart of whatever desert she resided in now. She had no provisions except for the stamina her body had been imbued with naturally by being a prime. Her skin was dry and red with sun burn, she was severely dehydrated, and her need for food was great. The only thing keeping her going was the eventual restorative nature of the Omnilium coursing through the very essence of her body. Trixie was dying of thirst and no matter what she did could feel utter exhaustion walking right behind her, step after step. It was pitch black out. The white haired mistress had wandered into a sandstorm and whatever passed as night time in the Underverse was currently going on. The force sensitive had conjured up a pair of black goggles to keep the sand from her eyes, but it didn’t help much when the wind gusted up to 150 miles an hour. The only thing keeping her on the ground was the fact that she was buried in sand up to her thighs, using all of her strength to wade through it like the shallow end of a swimming pool.
“I swear! I swear I’m going to kill Sia when I see her next.”
Without warning the voice from that pink eyed woman tore through Trixie’s mind. A blinding pink flash pierced through her mind's eye as the Sith Lord instinctively reeled back to avoid a punch from an unknown attacker. It wasn’t enough though; a knee followed up the strike which firmly planted itself against Trixie’s abdomen. What water her body could spare for spittle was released from her mouth as the impact of the blow compacted her abs against her internal organs. The mistress was blown backward and out from the sand she was standing in. Time seemed to slow down as she floated through the air, but it was short lived. An elbow struck her chest almost immediately, fracturing her sternum. Beatrix’s movement was abruptly halted and changed as she slammed into the ground onto her back. The only thing she could do was cough up blood from the ruptured vessels the brief assault had rendered upon her body.
A brunette woman dropped down next to her downed prey and smiled.
“Some fighter you are, 11256. The rumors in the pits are false. You can’t fight for shit.” Scylla grinned at herself. She was proud that she had beaten down the woman everyone was talking about in three hits.
What she didn’t expect was for her to get up. Recoiling both of her legs, Trixie punted Scylla off her feet and used the backward momentum to get into a handstand. Continuing the motion as fluidly as she could the white haired mistress landed on her feet and stood up. With blood running down her chin, Trixie clenched her jaw shut. She met eyes with her attacker and the urge to rip her limb from limb coursed through her body. Scylla laughed as she wiped her clothing free of sand.
“So you do have some fight left in you, 11256. I’ll tell you what. Just for landing one hit I’ll tell you my name. I am called Scylla and I can guarantee that is the last time you’ll touch me.” With a sinister grin the brunette woman vanished into the midst of the raging storm around them.
The pink flash of energy pierced Trixie’s mind yet again, but she had no time to react. A fist firmly planted itself across the mistress’ face, jerking her head to the right. Before her neck muscles had time to react another fist blindsided the Nightsister and tore her head to the left. Burning pain filled Beatrix’s neck as her muscles were strained and torn beyond their limit. Taking a handful of white hair Scylla pulled her mark into a rising knee that shattered the nose of her target and sprayed the sand with blood.
Trixie stumbled backward and through it all tried to regain the upper hand. Redirecting a punch from Scylla only left her with a broken wrist. Hitting the brunette with her elbow she managed to get the arch demon to back off for a second, but it didn’t matter. Scylla had already taken hold of the arm Trixie had used and pulled her in. With one swift strike she snapped the elbow loose from the humerus and with a swift tug removed the shoulder blade from its proper socket. The white haired slave let loose a blood curdling cry of agony; that was short lived by a punch to the stomach that made fresh blood fill the Nighsisters’ mouth as she vomited it up from her stomach.
“You are nothing!” Scylla shouted as she kicked Beatrix in the head sending her back into the sand.
Disappearing again she landed on the mistress’ left thigh, shattering the bone. Crouching over her mark, the arch demon sent a heavy punch to Trixie’s ribs, crunching the bone into pieces. One of her lungs collapsed which made the injured Sith gasps through air through blood filled wheezing.
Taking the sword from Trixie’s sheath on her thigh the arch demon known as Scylla ran it through her victims’ stomach and into the sand beneath her. Retracting the blood covered blade she plunged it in again into a different spot.
“Any last words before I end your life permanently?” She asked.
Through blood and sand covering her goggles Trixie could do nothing but choke on her own fluids and slowly die from her injuries.
“You truly are a shame, 11256.”
Taking the blade Scylla placed the blood covered tip at the mistress’ throat. Just as she was about to push the blade through the flesh an energy blast ripped into her side and knocked her back, vaporizing the sword and blowing the two women apart from each other.
Sia Morelli caught Trixie in her arms and immediately erupted into a brilliant crimson aura. The sandstorm abruptly stopped as dark red lightning rushed forth from the enraged demon lieutenant.
“Who the fuck are you?” Scylla questioned; she didn’t like her fights being interrupted.
Sia’s eyes were now glowing red and even though her power fell short of Scylla’s she had no doubt she could give the woman a run for her money. Trixie coughed blood onto the blond woman’s clothing and gasped for air. Sia looked down at her injured acquaintance and frowned. Her enhanced vision revealed everything that Scylla had done to the woman. The white-haired slave numbered 11256 was dying in her arms and there was nothing she could do.
“You’ve had your fun Scylla. Her death is mere moments away. Leave! Before I report this to Jorgan and Belial and you have him to deal with for slaughtering his new prize fighter outside of a sanctioned match. I’m sure they’d love to make some money off of you.” Sia yelled to the brunette arch demon.
As the last breath left Trixie’s body she could feel her thoughts dissipate into nothingness. Her body slowly disintegrated into ambient Omnilium and she was gone. Just before the vaporization process reached the mistress’ face Sia touched a finger to her cheek. She could only hope to track her partner when her body rematerialized. Wherever that may be in the next few days.
“Hmph,” Scylla grunted, crossing her arms. “Useless.”
Within seconds the brunette arch demon vanished into thin air. Trixie had been killed at the hands of a random assailant from the fighting pits and now Sia had to locate her once again. Tyrael needed this womans help, but for what she did not know. The only thing the blonde woman knew was that now she would need to search for the incarcerated prime’s reincarnated body when the time came.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 11-25-2015
Three Days Later...
Even with the high altitude, in the Underverse the wind rippling through Jorgan’s cloak was searing hot as it came in over the ocean of liquid rock to the North. The half demonic brute, half skeletal horror, and servant of Belial clicked his pocket watch shut and grunted. Whatever or whoever he was waiting on had been late. Taking a monocle off his physical eye he slipped it into a pocket lining his green cloak. Shifting the giant machete resting on his belt, Quartermaster Jorgan adjusted his weight on his feet and sighed. Another stiff gust of searing hot air blew through the rocky mountain range.
“Where the fuck is she? This is where Lord Belial said she would appear…” He mumbled.
***
Death was painful. The last thing Beatrix could remember was the distinct feeling of liquid in her lungs and being deprived of suitable breathing air. Almost every vital bone in her body had been broken or torn asunder from its muscular system. Most of her internal organs had been liquified from the sheer blunt force trauma.
“You. Are. WORTHLESS!”
The pink eyed warrior sharing her visage was enraged and engulfed in erratic and violent pink lightning. She roared and ripped the darkness in twain bringing Trixie into the blinding folds of billowing pink lightning now spewing forth from everywhere she looked.
“You share my name, my appearance, but you DO NOT share my spirit!” The mysterious woman bellowed with rage that shook the very fabric of wherever Trixie was.
“Stop squandering what was taken from me and get out of the Underverse!” She screamed, barely able to keep from losing her mind in pure rage.
“The...the Underverse?” As Trixie’s words echoed her memories played out in sequence around her.
The torture, the branding, Jorgan’s serum, the pit battles, her escape with Sia, all up to her death at the hands of Scylla.
“Yes you insignificant worm!” The mysterious woman shouted. “You allowed yourself to get banished like an incompetent fool! You call yourself a soldier and yet you didn’t even see this coming! What surprises me still is that you have more of him in you than me.”
“Him?” Trixie said, raising an eyebrow.
“You don’t deserve to know! All I will tell you is to seek out Viper. Now as for your current situation? It’s high time whatever stupid Universe you’re in got to know what an Imperial Valkyrie is and what they’re capable of. Maybe then you’ll get something fucking done.” The woman spat.
“What are you talking about?” Before Trixie could get an answer the woman had vanished and reappeared. A single electrically charged fist had pierced the mistress’ chest. Just as her vision blanked out Beatrix saw the woman grow a set of fangs and felt them pierce the side of her neck.
***
A single bolt of pink lightning struck the mountain cart path where Jorgan was waiting. An ear splitting cry like that of a hundred of red-tailed hawks exploded forth from a bright pink void sphere that materialized at the base of the strike. Omnilium exploded outward in a violent display of rainbow colors as Trixie’s new body materialized from within. As if time was slowed the white haired mistress emerged from the vortex of pink energy and rainbow omnilium, her body being materialized as she exited. The last thing to conjure was a gladius which she brought down upon the hulks position. Side stepping the attack, Jorgan double stepped backward as Trixie cartwheeled back onto her feet. Rotating the blade in her right hand she slammed the tip into the ground and grinded to a halt. Looking up through her white hair the newly reincarnated woman adjusted her grip on the blade. A brief crackle of pink energy coursed across her face as her left eye twitched. Her blank white stare was locked on the demonic hulk before her and nothing was going to get in her way this time.
She was going to feed his undead half to his living half.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Shang Tsung - 12-06-2015
Had it only been days? Or had it been weeks since he last paused?
Argento Camarinos let out a groan as he settled against the wall of rock. For the moment, it would have to support him as he tried to focus his thoughts. Up in the Omniverse proper (and the world he’d known before it), he didn’t have to worry about exerting such an effort to heal his own wounds. In his own world, there had been clerics at the churches who would mend his tattered flesh, and in the Omniverse, he’d experienced accelerated healing due to the nature of omnilium.
Down here, however, there was no time to let his wounds naturally heal, even if they did so quicker than normal. His precious moments had to be spent repairing his body for more trials ahead, because even if his mind was ravaged, his body had to remain functional if he intended to endure. Once the seconds became minutes, he felt the sparkle as the rainbow swirls coalesced around his ravaged body. Fading into something akin to sunlight, the omnilium sank beneath his armor. As the skin sealed and bruises vanished, sections of the armor mended themselves as well.
Within just six long minutes, Argento had done enough to regain feeling in all of his extremities. The light around him faded much faster than it had appeared. He’d done enough for now—the rest could wait until he was in a more secure environment. Behind him, the hills turned into cliffs and mountains, and while it harkened back to terrible memories, he knew that he’d find at least some solace at higher elevations.
Grabbing for the ropes around his waist, he started to plan his ascent.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 01-03-2016
The steel blade of her Gladius plunged under the living ribcage of Jorgen’s person. With a twist she brought the hulk to his knees. She roared with combat fueled adrenalin and caught his left hand with a CQS shield. With her right hand death-gripping the hilt of her blade and the left hand busy pushing away Jorgen’s cleaver she was left open. The Quartermaster’s free hand came down upon her throat and through his choking she sputtered out a laugh. His skeletal fingers tightened around her neck, but Trixie knew he couldn’t kill his only female success. Even if Lord Belial didn’t want her alive and reprocessed for the fighting rings, she had successfully survived his Nephalem serum. As a scientist he would want to keep her alive and study why she, out of every other female he had subjected to the drug in every variation before, had died. Beatrix wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
Trixie felt a new vigor within herself. As if that other woman had actually done something to her being. Wrenching her blade out from under Jorgen’s rib cage, as if in one motion, she inserted the blade skillfully between his radius and ulna. Pushing back on his cleaver she jumped towards his face, placing a foot onto the hilt of her weapon, twisting it, and breaking his arm at the elbow. As the lumbering hulk staggered backward to assess his arm Trixie dropped to the ground, removing her blade as the distance between them grew. The mistress could feel that her stamina had been drained forcefully. The shields were new. She had no idea where she had picked them up, but the burning in her lungs meant one thing. Holding someone at bay like that was going to leave her winded. Best to guard that secret carefully.
The white haired Sith twirled her blade around her right hand and gave her enemy the once over. Jorgen’s powers were unknown to her, but just as she had assumed, regeneration was something he could do. The steady flow of blood from his flesh side had ceased and the bones on his skeletal arm had mended. Picking up his cleaver he ripped his cloak from atop his shoulders and let it hit the ground with a thud.
Weighted gear?
“You may have dispatched Yennefer with ease, but you’ll find that I’m no push over. It’s a wonder you survived the serum infusion Beatrix, but Belial wants you back.”
Within moments the hulk was upon her. With immense speed and strength Jorgen swung his cleaver down at Trixie. Her steel wasn’t going to stop that. She had no choice but to shield out of it. Placing a hand up a force shield materialized in front of her outstretched palm. It wasn’t near enough. A groan of pain escaped Beatrix’s lips as she dropped to one knee. Her shield had stopped the cleaver from severing her arm from her shoulder, but it hadn’t been able to keep it from digging into her collar. Warm crimson liquid flowed from the freshly opened wound, seeping into her clothing, eventually dripping to the dirt below.
It wasn’t over yet, Jorgen was still trying to take her arm and all she could do was use everything she had at keeping the shield intact and her muscles tensed on her left arm.
“Give up, Trixie. Belial’s drop ships are headed here now to fetch us. Give yourself to this program.”
“Never,” she grunted through grinding teeth and pain.
There was no giving up. No amount of pain would force her to cave. The ambient light around them seemed to dim as a new light source was birthed in Trixie’s right arm. The gladius now rest in its sheathe and Trixie’s closed fist was now aimed at Jorgen’s torso. With an immense flash of light and the kick of a large caliber rifle she unleashed a single powerful bolt of force lightning into his chest. The hulking demon was thrown backward against the rocky outcrop, leaving the mistress on her butt, her previously electrically charged hand now covered in blood as she provided much needed pressure for her wound.
It wasn’t going to keep him down for long, but at least she bought some time to think.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 01-06-2016
A dull fleshy thud penetrated the mistress’ hearing. Trixie had managed to get to her feet, though her hand was still desperately trying to keep her gushing wound closed. With Jorgan still down she had no idea where the sound had come from until she felt the warm trickle of blood seep into her waistline. Looking down, still sparkling with Omnillium, was an arrow sticking out of the left part of her abdomen. Almost immediately the remaining Omnillium seeped into her wound sending her immediately down to her knees in agony. Letting out a cry she pounded the dirt with her free hand, sending blood and sweat flying from her person. Gripping the shaft of the arrow she broke it off close to her skin just as another one slammed into her right shoulder, the impact sending her sprawling onto her back. More pain than she had ever felt before in her life coursed through her body. Something was strange though. Her vision, though already perfect, sharpened as if it had improved even further. Inhaling sharply in sudden shock, Trixie realized the pain had been replaced with numbness.
Without her knowing the Sith Warrior’s appearance had returned to normal. Her previous white hair had returned to its shade of blood red, her eyes had resumed being their faded neon pink, and the color of her skin had returned to its tan complexion; the tribal markings had vanished as well. As if filled with new life she sprang to her feet gracefully like a gymnast. The arrows that had once taken residence in her body were gone, her wounds had been healed, and she could see things in a new light. Trixie couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but she couldn’t argue that she felt amazing.
A floating brunette elf covered with ivory silk garments appeared before her. She had her fingers ready on her ivory bowstring, her stern but kind eyes eyeing her handiwork. Drawing her weapon, the woman loosed another arrow which struck Trixie square between the eyes. A blinding flash of light followed, but that was it.
“Hello Beatrix.” A voice spoke inside the Sith’s mind.
The fuck is going on?
“A fair question. One that I will answer in time. The short and sweet is that I’m an interested party that was sent to assist you. I corrected the imperfections with the serum that hulk gave you.” The woman explained, her voice echoing throughout Trixie’s head.
Jorgan groaned in discomfort and finally got to his feet. A single hole had burned itself through his chest where the bolt of lightning had struck, but as Trixie looked more closely with her new found vision she could see his demonic body repairing itself.
“You aren’t going to be able to beat him.” The woman reported offhandedly.
Fuck off.
Drawing her gladius from its sheathe Trixie caught it mid-air in her right hand, blade downward like a knife. Dropping into a combat stance she readied herself as Jorgan began lumbering over, his machete ready to swing. That’s went her body went completely limp. Trixie couldn’t help but watch as Jorgan severed her sword arm at the elbow and kicked her to the ground.
“Sorry about this, but we need to get you back into Belial’s control. My employer insists if I’m going to help you.”
“What did you do!?” Trixie shrieked as she held her stump of an arm, blood rushing from the open wound.
Jorgan laughed as he pressed the bloodied blade to her chest. As the monstrosity was about to plunge his blade into her sternum and split open her chest cavity, three attack craft blazed overhead kicking up the dormant dust on the mountain path. A large transport carrier arrived not long after it’s escort, the fighter craft circling around for multiple passes over the mountain top. The large hovercraft lowered itself to the ground, remaining a few inches off the dirt as it lowered the cargo bay ramp. Four demonic nurses rushed out with a gurney and medical supplies to the downed Beatrix. Quickly injecting the gravely wounded Sith they lifted her up onto the stretcher and immediately restrained her to it. Wheeling her onto the transport the cargo bay ramp closed behind them and the four hover craft thundered off as quickly as they had arrived, headed towards Tyrant Lord Belial’s headquarters and his fighting arena.
* * *
“Fiona has successfully merged with the subject, mi’lord.”
A faint smile crept along the face of Mephisto as he swirled a cup of wine around in one of his hands.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 01-11-2016
Able Company had been in the field for three straight years. They were one of the few Special Forces conditioned units in the 15th Infantry Division of Naga Sadow’s Sith Empire. The High Court had delegated that a super weapon be built on Thule. Able Company had been chosen to spearhead the planet wide siege. Beatrix Zulenka had received a promotion to Sergeant First Class for their last combat operation on Belsavis. The dissidents had been quelled, rounded up, and executed. Due to a tactical error by Charlie Company, Able Company had lost a couple of its members in the assault on the final bunker, but it paled in comparison to what had happened to Bravo Company. There were maybe a handful of Bravo left after they had been left exposed on the line and ripped apart by turbolaser fire. Sergeant Rackham had been detained by Able out of sheer anger at the officer for his lousy call. They had nearly lost Trixie as she moved to save Staff Sergeant Henderson and whom else she could of Bravo. Imperial High Command wanted Henderson to train an entirely new Bravo Company, but Beatrix wouldn’t have it. She pleaded the case to Colonel Felix Astrada, her estranged lover. Able Company was already welcoming of Henderson and the few remaining soldiers of Bravo Company and invited them to join their ranks; creating a drunken ceremony for them to join the elite members of Able. Beatrix argued that giving Bravo’s fresh recruits a commander who had trained with them would be better for morale and unit fluidity than if Henderson had stayed on. High Command accepted her judgement, she was the leader of Able Company after all, and granted her Henderson and his men. As part of his deal he was demoted to Sergeant under the newly promoted Staff Sergeant Masters, Beatrix’s second in command. There was no bad blood about it; Henderson was grateful to be among his new brothers and sisters in arms. It wasn’t in vain either, because Able Company single handedly took the capital of Thule from its natives and held the city as the primary invasion fleet positioned itself and dropped out of orbit.
* * *
Sheathing a blade off the display rack into her belt using her newly reformed right arm, Trixie’s eyes perused the various other weapons in the slave armory. Her first major bout was minutes away and she had been given time to arm herself for whatever she was to face in the arena. Under Belial’s orders Jorgan had quite literally beaten her into submission. He would break a bone on her person and then immediately restore it and break a different one. It had been the worst few hours she had ever experienced. Finally, she agreed, albeit reluctantly, to don her slave collar again and participate in Tyrant Lord Belial’s arena. Her primary directive was to make the demon money through gambling winnings. Picking up a stiletto knife sheathed in an intricately carved bone scabbard she tied it around her waist and situated it on the other side of gladius. Picking up a worn canvas pouch she unfolded the straps and exposed the rust covered throwing knives that were carefully sheathed in their holders.
Wrapping the canvas pouch around her torso she tightened the straps and positioned the fanned array of blades along her right shoulder. Taking a small dagger from the table, she slipped it in between her ankle and the tightly strung boot of her left foot. Choosing her last piece of weaponry off the rack Trixie twirled the spear around her as she walked towards the arena entrance. The Sith Warrior could hear the thousands of arena patrons shouting and cheering in anticipation for the match to start. Taking a round bronze phalanx shield off the wall to her left she jogged through the bright archway and into the roaring fighting pit.
Well this isn’t exactly a shocker.
Five combatants of various species stood before her. They had been taunting the crowd with their weapons in a brutish display of power. Almost immediately Trixie circled left and began analyzing the warriors in front of her. They all had different types of weapons and varying levels of armor on. There was even a naked human wielding a wicked looking zweihander. Without even thinking Beatrix lifted the spear up over her head. Tossing it up she adjusted her grip, caught it, and wailed it at the naked combatant. It pierced his chest and threw him onto his back, impaling him to the ground. The crowd roared in excitement, screaming for more blood. Almost immediately she was charged by two green looking demons with scales and matching tails. They both wore cured hide armor and wielded dual short swords. The left one came into reach first; ducking under a wide horizontal slash Trixie smashed her shield upwards into its exposed arms knocking it off balance. With her open hand she stopped a double slash from its partner with a close quarters shield. Pushing the attacking demon back with force she drew her gladius and rolled underneath another slash. With fluid movement she stuck her blade through the gut of the lizard like demon on her right.
Two
Bringing her full strength to bear to knocked the second green scaled demon onto it’s back with a powerful shield bash and drove the edge of the bronze defensive circle through its neck severing its head.
Three
A harsh thud smashed into her shield; it was an arrow from another combatant who was behind a hulk looking demon who resembled Quartermaster Jorgan. Exerting her powerful leg muscles the red-headed mistress jumped into the air and loosed her shield like a Frisbee at the hulk looking warrior. He barely had time step aside as it bounced off the dirt floor of the arena and landed up in the stands. Tossing her gladius skillfully to her left hand, Trixie took hold of three knives between her fingers from the pouch on her shoulder and whipped them at the archer. They landed true, square in the middle of the warriors’ chest, but not before the red skinned demon had loosed another arrow that planted itself into Trixie’s left shoulder. Beatrix landed on the arena floor and stumbled forward, the pain of her injury screwing with her balance.
Four
Before she had any time to react the hulk had swung its mace at her. Throwing up both her hands she projected two shields to stop the blow, but there was too much force. The red-head was flung into the adjacent wall where her body met stone with a sickening crunch. Blood stained her vision as the yellow skinned demon hulk lumbered over to her to finish the job. Coughing blood onto her clothing, it spilled down her mouth as she pushed herself to her feet, sliding up the wall. Her gladius had been knocked from her possession leaving only her stiletto and boot knife. However, when she tried to move to arm herself she found that her left shoulder had been shattered leaving her left arm useless. The yellowish hulk stood before her now. Grabbing the slave warrior by the loose chainmail over her leather tunic it lifted her to its face and smiled a toothy grin before grabbing a knife from its belt. Licking the blade with its long tongue it laughed, preparing to plunge the blade into her chest to finish the job.
Five
Something snapped and Trixie’s eyes began to glow red, a dark energy pouring from her body. Using her right arm, she gripped the neck of the hulk who, at first, thought nothing of it until the flesh around his throat began to sizzle and decay. Black lightning flowed through Beatrix’s arm and into the body of the yellowed hulk that was grasping her. The hulk fell backward onto it’s back, Trixie instinctively placing her boots on its chest to kneel over it. Her mouth opened wide as a swirling black vortex of red and black energy swirled from the body of the hulk and was absorbed into the red-eyed gaping maw of Trixe Zulenka. Once she had finished consuming its essence nothing was left but a shriveled black mummy of a corpse.
The arena patrons erupted into applause. The captive Sith had won her first official bout for Belial.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 01-22-2016
Blood and spittle coated the wall near Trixie’s cell as a slave pen guard struck her in the jaw with a tonfa. The warm taste of her own blood filled her mouth; spitting out the crimson liquid onto the floor she grimaced in pain as the guard struck her square between the shoulders, knocking the woman into her cell. The heavy obsidian carved door screeched shut and with a click it was locked. Through the tiny portcullis that was embedded in the arch of the door the pit fighter guard took one last look at his quarry before sliding the rusted cover shut. The room was damp, dark, and depressing. A bedroll lay in one corner of the room while a lone chamber pot lay in the next. Noticing a silver cigar case on the floor in the center of the room Trixie moved to pick it up. She winced as she knelt down to pick it up. The surrounding muscle and flesh had become swollen around the arrow shaft in her shoulder. Gripping the blood caked wood she ripped the projectile from her person with a soft cry. Fresh blood began to flow from the wound and down her chest. Opening the cigar case Trixie recognized what it was. A syringe containing the Nephilim Serum fit snugly inside the felt mold. Taking the glass device, she positioned it between two fingers, with her thumb on the plunger. Flicking the needled she sighed and jabbed it directly into her heart, pushing the liquid into her bloodstream. The mistress’ pupils dilated immediately; she could feel her wounds closing and her newly broken jaw mending itself. The Sith’s mind was racing wildly as the low dose of serum repaired the damage from the fight. Now that the imperfections had been fixed within Trixie by the mysterious woman wielding a bow she could take the serum normally and it would heal her. As quickly as the rush of energy came, it went; Beatrix passed out on the stone floor of her cell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Trixie awoke with a short gasp as a bucket of ice cold water splashed her in the face. Coughing through the cold liquid she lifted herself up the now soaked bed roll that had been her bed. Wiping her soaked hair from her eyes, the red-head saw that the guard from last night had brought her a meal.
“Eat, slave. You have five minutes before you’re required to be in the armory getting ready for your next bout.” The human looking demon eyed her with contempt before taking his post outside her cell door, leaving the door ajar.
Trixie crawled over to the metal tray on the floor by the cracked obsidian door. It had a sealed demonic energy bar, a leg of mutton, a flagon of what looked like table wine, and a couple of tablets that looked like vitamins.
They were forcing their fighters to be healthy. Which made sense. A healthy soldier, was a functioning soldier.
Beatrix found herself wondering if they had medication for those who weren’t accustomed to battle, but were still profitable enough not to be fed to the demons themselves. Sending the thought to the back of her mind she took the leg of lamb and bit down onto the cooked meat. It was surprisingly delicious; the meat practically fell off the bone. Taking the flagon up in her hand she took a swig of wine and popped the pills in her mouth. Swallowing them she took another bite of the mutton with gusto; Trixie had not realized she was this hungry. The roasted flesh was a pleasant reminder of something she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps of being a normal soldier back in the Empire? Her service had been short with Nova and she found herself wondering if the blond would even remember her or want her back in the unit. Taking another drink from the cup she pushed those thoughts from her head. One thing was for sure; she had changed. Her time spent in this Hell had changed her irrevocably. Dropping the cleaned bone onto the tray and downed the last of the wine from the flagon. Taking the energy bar she carefully pushed the cell door open and headed out into the hall. The guard eyed her with suspicion, but quickly reached behind his back and removed a pair of shackles. Fastening them to her wrists he nudged her down the hall, pressing the shield he was carrying to her back.
They came to a room, Trixie pressed her hands to the door and pushed the heavy metal fixture open. A rush of warm air came at her; she had forgotten how cold it was in the slave pens. The bright light from the arena outside was coming through the various windows carved into the stone walls. She was in a different armory than before. Before she could even ask the guard where they were he had unclasped her shackles and was headed for the door.
“Choose your weapons carefully, slave. I’m afraid today the deck is stacked against you.”
With that he was gone, the door locking behind him. Before her was a very different array of weapons. They looked ancient in design, but foreign in nature. Approaching a table of what looked like firearms Trixie lifted a rifle looking weapon up and snapped open it’s chamber.
“Single shot.” She said aloud to herself.
Putting the weapon down she moved across the table, her fingers running along the various choices in front of her. She stopped in front of a weapon kit that almost spoke to her. A black leather weapon harness was hanging above an array of weapons that were neatly laid out as if they it was a matching set. Two matching pistols, two knives, and a large magazine fed weapon with a giant liquid cooled barrel.
“Incorrect. That barrel is forged from Demon Iron. It is surrounded by enchanted magma gathered from the Ocean of Fire. The housing keeps the barrel hot so the ammunition it uses doesn’t freeze. Underverse Ammunition is extremely explosive, but also extremely cold. The heat is needed to make it fire normally. You’re looking at a weapon used primarily by Diablo’s forces during the war.” Spoke the voice that had inhabited Trixie’s mind on the mountain.
Without even acknowledging the foreign voice in her mind Trixie strapped on the weapon harness and sheathed both knives in their proper places. One across the small of her back and one at her left collarbone. The pistols looked like standard regenerating Imperial blasters. Holstering each one she took hold of the carbine weapon Fiona had described. Despite the barrel housing being filled to the brim with molten rock it was cool to the touch. She pulled back on the bolt and examined the breech.
“Looks like I’m going to have to learn to cycle bolt action weapons all over again.” Beatrix said to herself with a grin.
Grabbing a black ammo case, she dragged it across the dusty wooden table and pried it open. It was filled with loaded clips for the weapon she had slung across her back. Taking the weapon up she slid a loaded magazine into the bottom of it and pulled the bolt back, pushing a new slug into the breech. Closing it she took a moment to examine the ammunition she was using. The slug was black as the darkest night you could possibly think of and the casing was clear as glass, filled with a sparkling material that showered purple, blue, and red sparks. The round was cold to the touch. The mistress could see the condensation begin to freeze around the clip she had inserted into the weapon. With a smile she took a handful of shells and slid them into the loops on the harness designed for such a thing.
Turning around she took stock of everything else in the armory and went over to the classical weapons table. Taking a sheathed gladius from the pile of rusty and dusty weapons she fastened it around her waist. A smaller Trojan style shield lay on the floor. Clasping the weapon around her left arm she picked her carbine off the table and headed towards the armory exit to the arena. A pair of guards had been dispatched to come get her, but they surprised to see her armed and ready. Taking her by the arms they nearly dragged her to the starting area and shoved her out into the blinding light of the open arena and to her opponent.
Oh...Shit.
* * *
Towering above the red-headed Sith Lord was a demon of immense size. The crowd roared with the arrival of Trixie. Clearly Jorgan had convinced Belial to kill her off, because this was absolutely insane. Standing nearly thirty feet off the ground was the Siege Breaker Assault Beast; covered head to toe in thick iron armor. A quadruped, the monstrous demon stood on four muscular legs. Its hands had been forged into long serrated blades that dripped with what looked like a naturally occurring venom that literally secreted itself from the steel itself. An earth shattering roar signaled to Trixie that the beast had spotted her and within seconds it was charging across the arena, shaking the very ground she stood on as it clambered its way over to rip her limb from limb.
Beatrix didn’t waste a second. Using the lip of her shield she lined up a shot and with an explosive burst of purple, blue, and red sparks a bolt of molten demon iron hit the beast straight in the chest, denting the armor it was wearing.
“Well...fuck,” She cursed softly, cycling the weapon and ejecting the empty casing.
The giant siege beast leapt into the air and came crashing down in front of Trixie, unleashing a bellowing roar of dominance. The redheaded ARC Trooper wasted no time; she pushed with every ounce of power she could muster into her legs and took off sprinting left along the wall. A bladed hand of the best came down and blocked her path. Dropping to the ground she slid on her ass to a halt, placing both boots to the blade. Kicking off Trixie slid on her back as the Siege Beasts’ second blade came down right where she had been moments earlier. Lining a shot up as she slid the mistress unleashed another blaze of purple, red, and blue that propelled her further and blew through the demon’s armor on its arm. The stench of burning greater demon flesh filled her nostrils as she retracted the bolt on her weapon and ejected the clear casing onto the ground. Pushing the bolt back into the weapon she raised it again as the Siege breaker bellowed in detest at his new scrape of an injury. Squeezing the trigger, the force of her shot blew her hair back and before the round even struck the helmet of the beast Trixie had retracted the bolt, a clear casing flying past her face trailing its smoky residue.
The moment when the red-headed combatant went to line up her next shot is when she noticed the frost buildup around the breach of the weapon.
“Fire too often and the enchanted magma can’t keep the barrel hot enough to counter act the cold nature of the Underverse Ammunition. The weapon will begin to freeze and if it gets cold enough it won’t fire.” Fiona instructed without Beatrix paying her any mind.
Biting her lip, Trixie leapt over a clumsy swipe from the Siege Breaker Assault Beast and slung the rifle across her back for late. She had to remember that she had two more shots remaining in that clip; it was important. Taking a pistol from its holster and simultaneously drawing a knife the Sith ARC Trooper rolled under another swipe, letting loose a few stray shots at the dented armor on the beasts’ chest. With a deafening roar the Siege breaker charged the retreating red-head and caught her shoulder with the flat part of its blade. The ground disappeared as the immense power of the siege demon threw the mistress off her feet. She had only seconds to right herself, but it wasn’t without a cost. The weapon on her back broke, rupturing the remaining two shells left in the clip. The resulting explosion ripped across Trixie’s left side and tore through the Siege Demon’s right blade, breaking it in half.
The Sith Warrior was thrown against the chest plate of the very demon she was fighting. Dropping onto her butt the mistress could barely keep herself from coughing blood onto the ground. The enchanted leather she wore had done its job, but now it was gone leaving the seared left half of her torso exposed to the elements. The military issue sports bra she had gotten from Nova was the only thing keeping her bosom from being seen, though it had melted into her flesh. Blood seeped from the scorched skin as she scrambled to her feet, sliding herself to the rear end of the demon as it roared and examined its ruined sword arm. The explosive ammunition had broken every rib on the left side of her chest, had burned most of Trixie’s left side to a near crisp leaving her left arm usable, but just barely.
Turning to face its prey, now furious at the loss of its blade, the Siege breaker thrusted its good blade, point first, at Trixie in an attempt to skewer her. Throwing up her right hand at the last second with a cry of pain a shield formed and kept the monster at bay. Smashing its feet on the ground in protest the Siege breaker pushed all of its strength into the blow, forcing the female Sith to her knees as the close quarters shield drained everything she had left.
Divert the flow.
Dashing to her right the mistress let the siege demon fly past her, but for its size the thing was quick. Spinning on its four legs it caught her left thigh with its blade and cut down to the bone, shattering the femur. Fresh blood sprayed from the wound as the force of the blow slid the red-head across the arena floor, ripping and tearing at her flesh. As the kicked up dust began to settle she coughed and sputtered, blood spraying from her mouth. The ground beneath her shook with each step of the demon behind her. It was toying with her. Here she was on death’s doorstep, her body in shambles, and it wasn’t even trying. That pissed her off. Lifting herself up with her right arm she stared at the trembling ground beneath her as the demon approached. She could barely feel her broken leg; the burns were effectively cancelling out any pain the shattered femur was causing. Rolling onto her back Trixie felt herself gasp, her gaze met by the Siege breaker who was poised to kill her.
Raising her right arm, she opened her palm and tried to form a shield, but found that nothing happened. The siege demon slammed a foot down onto Trixie’s feet, crushing her bones.
Big mistake.
With a battle cry, Trixie’s eyes lit up red and an orb of Omnilium began to form in her palm.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Trixie was screaming now, her voice becoming distorted and banshee like.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Her eyes had begun to glow red like her previous bout.
Through strength, I gain power.
A dark black miasma began seeping from her body and floating towards the Siege Breaker Assault Beast.
Through power, I gain victory.
Dark lightning sparked from the orb, a red miasma now seeping from hey eyes.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
Slamming her palm against the leg of the siege demon Trixie unleashed her Essence Purge upon the Assault Beast and watched with fading vision as it reeled back, it’s very existence being torn away from it. With a burst of rainbow light the huge demonic siege engine burst into a fine mist of rainbow Omnilium and ceased to exist. The crowd exploded into applause and cheering. As Trixie’s vision faded she could see a pair of Royal Guard Medics rush over to aid her, a syringe of Nephilim Serum in their hands.
Everything went black.
The Force shall free me.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 01-24-2016
Blood sprayed from Trixie’s mouth as she choked on the ever increasing amount crimson liquid that rose up from her damaged lungs. The Royal Medical Corps had taken her back to the estate infirmary, against the wishes of Jorgan who had rushed onto the arena floor to try and finish off his subject. The highly trained and veteran demons of the Royal Guard subdued him under Tyrant Lord Belial’s orders and hauled him off, placing Trixie under their protection for the time being. Taking a confiscated syringe of Nephilim Serum from the Quartermaster’s living quarters the lead doctor jabbed it directly into Trixie’s heart, plunging the fluid into her blood stream. Blood was pooling on the floor and running down off the table they were working on.
“It should be helping, but I can’t staunch the bleeding from her burns or her broken leg.” One of the nurses reported as she placed a clear mask over Trixie’s mouth.
Another doctor took a hose and inserted it up the mistress’ nose and down into her airway to suction the blood coming from her damaged lungs. Once the tubing was clear Trixie gasped as air was once again able to reach her bloodstream, but only while the machine was draining her lungs of fluid. Ripping open a fresh package of gauze a succubae nurse pressed it against the exposed and heavily burned section of Trixie’s torso, wrapping it around her shoulders. The medical team had already started an intravenous flow of harvested human blood, fluids to keep her hydrated, and basic medicines.
“Seriously. You can’t die. I’ll die if you kick the bucket.” Fiona said offhandedly.
With a sigh only audible to Trixie the demoness of the mountain chanted a phrase in a language the groggy Sith trooper couldn’t understand. A moment later her eyes lit up with serene glow of light and she immediately gagged on the tube in her throat. It had gone clear and stayed clear. Pulling out the vacuum hose the doctor noticed that the heart monitor had suddenly stabilized.
“She’s stabilizing. It’s working. Set that leg, nurse! Get those bones ready for repair.” The head doctor ordered!
“You’re welcome.” Fiona said, her words oozing with disgust.
“What did you do?”
“I gifted part of my ability to regenerate to you. Your body is healing faster than an ordinary prime now and shall be capable of doing so from now on. Don’t ever say I didn’t help you with this union.” Fiona replied.
“Yeah well, you never quite explained why I was your chosen vessel.”
“That’s for me to know and for you to put up with.” The goddess shot back.
Trixie placed a hand to the oxygen mask and pressed it closer to her face and closed her eyes. With an audible crunch the bones in her femur mended themselves like they had never been broken. One of the nurses removed the blood and medicinal drip, leaving only the electrolyte bag. Beatrix was covered in her own blood; she could feel her back sticking to the table. The medical team cleared out of the room once they had determined Trixie was healing and stable enough to be left alone. The red-headed soldier could feel her own skin weaving itself back together on her left side. She laid there staring up at the ceiling of whatever room she was in at the Citadel. A pair of Royal Guards came into the room, her eyes moving to them, and took post next to the door.
They were obsidian skinned, muscular demons donned in shining silver full plate. The only thing visible behind their helmets were the glow of their purple eyes. Each one had a death grip on a large zweihander, the flat part of the blade resting on their shoulder. Trixie’s eyes widened as Sia Morelli walked into the room with a smile on her face.
“Damn, woman. You’re looking worse for wear. It’s like you never even died out there in the desert.” She said, laughing.
Trixie took the oxygen mask off her mouth and raised herself up on her elbows. “How are you even here? Did Belial take you back?”
“I never quit.” Sia replied. “I was only ordered to use you as bait to eliminate Yennefer. She never saw it coming.”
“Now—“ She hesitated. “Now I’m here to inform you that your next match is going to be against Jorgan.”
A look of concern momentarily crossed Trixie’s face.
“Don’t worry, kiddo. Belial is rigging this fight just like last time. Except I’ll be fighting on your side. I’ve been ordered to execute Jorgan and pass his research onto some other demon. I convinced the Tyrant Lord that it would be fitting if the Quartermaster’s only success had a hand in killing him.” Sia grinned wickedly.
Trixie sighed and pulled herself up into a seated position. The last of her injuries were closing and she felt brand new. Ripping the intravenous needle from her arm she tossed it aside and snapped the oxygen mask from her face. Sia extended a hand and pulled her previous comrade to her feet.
“I like you, slave. Despite being a pit fighter you’ve managed to cause quite a bit of fun around this old citadel. Hopefully that continues. Now c’mon. We need to get you some clothes and I’ll lead you to your new cell.”
With a smile Sia turned and exited the trauma room of the infirmary with Trixie on her heels followed by the two Royal Guards.
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Shang Tsung - 02-23-2016
“FOUL DEMONS!"
Argento swung the broken hammer with all the fury of a caged lion. The splintered, dulled head of the weapon crashed against the slobbering hellion’s visage and tore away the jaw before crunching down through its trachea, esophagus, and spine. Gouts of putrid blood sprayed out as the gurgling monster fell back against the surging hoard behind it. Those demons literally tore through their peer, showering themselves in its blood before lunging toward their adversary.
With the hammer virtually falling to pieces in his grasp, Argento surged into the chaos and swung at the nearest red-skinned creature. A final, defiant thud issued forth from his weapon before it broke into jagged gray chunks and ceased to be a war hammer. Turning sharply, Argento used the broken haft of the weapon as a stake and drove it through the heart of a leaping demon. Although the creature died before it could tighten its fel fingers around his neck, its hefty bulk was still carried by momentum into the paladin, who staggered as he tried to shrug off the corpse.
The demon hit the red earth, but the damage had already been done.
Three of the creatures got close enough to grab at the paladin. A stiff forearm bash knocked away one of them, but without a weapon, Argento was unable to easily land a deathblow. As the stunned demon staggered back, its peers tore through the makeshift armor that the man had summoned—their claws tearing through the material en route to the flesh and muscle beneath.
“Begone… monsters,” Argento rasped as he felt claws rend his pectorals. He laid into a second demon, knocking it back into the growing crowd behind it. A swift downward thrust of his elbow broke the arm of the demon clawing into his chest, and as the creature roared in pain, the paladin managed to close his hands around its neck and twist. Beneath the heavily corded muscles was still a spinal cord, and it snapped all the same.
The corpse toppled into an accursed heap before the paladin, but that small victory was meaningless as the mob surged toward him once more. Three, four, five… eventually there were too many bodies around him to keep track. Claws lashed out, tearing into his flesh. Fists and spurs of bone bashed against his body relentlessly. Every so often, he’d find a small, fleeting moment to retaliate, but soon, he felt his strength fail him. A knot of jagged bone struck him in the chin, and Argento hit the ground an instant later.
As the word above him faded in and out of focus, he swore he heard one of the monsters speak out in the Common language.
“Belial will pay well for this one.”
Re: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 02-24-2016
The only thing Trixie awoke to was a splitting headache and the feeling of warm water rushing over her naked body. Choosing to keep her eyes shut, she raised her visage to the water and let it pour over her face. The steamy liquid gently massaged her tired face and soaked her hair. Blood, makeup, dirt, and grime fell from her matted red locks. Of all the things she expected in the life of a slave and pit fighter, being in a bath with running hot water was very close to the bottom of Trixie’s list of things to see. Leaning back against the cool marbled tile the mistress opened her eyes and met the gaze of Sia Morelli who was busy running a razor up one of her soapy legs.
“Good. You’re awake. I thought I was going to have to shave you myself.” She said with a grin. “Beside you are everything you’ll need to get yourself presentable. You’ll be meeting our Lord Belial in a couple of hours. I have been instructed to see to it that you groom yourself. Your re-entry into the Underverse has caused our magic to be reapplied. Your appearance and physical state is usually kept in stasis by Belial’s magic. However, where ever you ended up, you allowed yourself to become unkempt.”
Trixie ran a wet hand over the slick and prickly surface of one of her legs. She was right. Placing a hand between her legs she sighed and took a bar of soap from the little porcelain tray that had been laid out next to her. Rubbing her hands together Mistress Zulenka got her fingers good and soapy before moving to massage her torso. It smelled of frankincense and myrrh. Firmly, but gently she ran her soapy hands under her bosom, under her arms, and along her stomach down to her crotch in an attempt to scrub away the dirt and grime she had collected on her body.
Standing up Trixie rinsed away the soap and moved for the glass vial labelled ‘shampoo.’ Uncorking the top, she bent forward and threw her hair forward out of the way of the water stream. Dripping a sizable portion onto the back of her head she balanced it their while placing the vial down. With both hands the slave fighter rubbed the pomegranate smelling goop into her scalp, carefully threading her fingers through her hair down to the tips. Stepping into the water Trixie shook her head gently while brushing the soap out of her hair.
Sia had moved onto her second leg as Trixie sat down and grabbed ahold of the shaving kit. Taking the bowl of cream, the mistress took the brush and pasted it along her left leg in long fluid strokes. The room had filled with steam and was more of a sauna now than a shower. It was amazing that a fortress of its type had an unlimited supply of hot water. A pair of giggles came from the other end of the giant shower room as a duo of succubi entered wearing nothing but tightly wrapped towels around their bodies. Their hooved feet clicked and clacked as they made their way into the tiled room. As if they knew Trixie was being watched by Sia they continued their schoolgirl laughter before stripping nude to enter a flow of hot water. They spoke in a demonic language the mistress couldn’t understand, but they seemed to be laughing at her as she lifted her leg, exposing her private area, to shave the inner part of her left thigh. The succubi were naturally beautiful, if you were into that sort of thing, with a buxom pair of breasts each. Their waist was narrow and gave way to their scaled legs and demonic features. A tail that protruded from their tailbone danced around as they each took turns washing each other’s bodies.
Sia finished with herself and shut off her water stream to grab a towel. Morelli was built toward the sexier end of the typical blond girl. Her breasts were average enough for sex appeal and her butt was nicely shaped, but wasn’t too big. She was more muscular than anything else, her stomach was a smooth washboard of toned muscle, the red ruby piercings in her belly button shining off in the light of the shower room. More than once Trixie had caught herself staring at the other woman as she shaved. The mistress would never understand how one could be comfortable with one piercing down there, let alone three.
Pushing the thought of any needles going near her womanly parts out of her head, Trixie finished up shaving herself and rinsed away the remainder of the shaving cream and soap. Running her fingers over her legs she smiled as they felt silky smooth beneath the still ever steaming hot water running from the faucet on the wall. More succubi were beginning to enter the room as well as other human females with various body art and piercings. They were all stripping nude like it was no big deal and breaking out their soaps or various vials and washing themselves clean from whatever day's work they had accomplished. Sia handed Beatrix a towel and waited for her to wrap it around her body before handing her one for her hair. The blonde Leftenant of Belial led the red haired pit fighter out of the shower area and into the bustling women's locker room. Trixie didn’t bother to question Morelli when she led them out of the locker room and into the courtyard. The two nearly nude women ascended a flight of stairs before coming to Sia’s personal quarters. Closing the door behind them Morelli dropped both towels to the floor and proceeded, completely nude, across the giant living space towards the hearth where a set of clothes were waiting for her on a red velvet ottoman.
“There’s a silk dress for you on my bed along with some choices of perfume and deodorant. Take what you want from my underwear drawer. You’re a little more gifted than I am, but you should be able to squeeze into one of my lace bra’s.” The woman explained as she pulled a black pair of lace panties up over her crotch.
Trixie made her way over to the bedside on the other side of the quarters. It was on a raised platform that was a step up from the rest of the giant room other than the kitchen. Pulling open the top drawer the red-headed mistress was presented with a neatly assorted selection of panties and matching bras. Each pair of panties was gently folded and placed inside the cup of a matching bra. There were blues, reds, pinks, oranges, black, different shades of gray, yellow, and that was just in lace. There were different varying degrees of color in sportier underwear and underwear designed for combat. I guess if one needed to feel sexy in the midst of ripping someone's throat out, you did it by wearing neon green panties.
The dress on the bed was a glimmering silver in color with a black dragon imprinted from the neck, across the chest and down the side to where it split open mid-thigh. Taking a pair of silver panties from the drawer Trixie threw them on top of the dress. Taking the matching bra, she slid the dresser closed and walked over to the toilet situated behind a changing screen. A purple candle was lit on a wooden pedestal beside the porcelynn bowl. Slipping into the bra as she sat to pee, the slave fighter reached around to her back and fastened the undergarment together. It was about a size too small for Trixie’s bust. Pulling down on the fabric she settled her bosom the best she could and flushed the toilet, finishing her business and heading back to the bed.
“So what’s this meeting about anyway, Sia? Am I in trouble?” She inclined her head as she lifted a leg and slid it into the pair of silver panties.
“Not exactly. He wants to examine the fighter he’s won so much money with and to see firsthand, Jorgan’s success. He’s choosing to keep a pit fighter alive over a high ranking demon. A decision that doesn’t go without weight. Belial wants to make sure he’s making the right call. If he’s unsatisfied when he meets you...well, you’ll be executed and posthumously put to work in the mines instead of the gladiator rings.” The blond replied.
It was always something down here. Sia had dressed herself into a tight fitting one-piece dress that glittered in the flickering hearthstone fire a brilliant display of rainbow. Her hair had been done into a bun, a pair of hair pins sticking out of the ball leaving only a few bangs to frolic casually in her face. Trixie had managed to squeeze into her dress and was gently tugging at the fabric when the blond came up from behind and did her zipper.
“I see you went with the lilac and gooseberries perfume. Lovely choice.” Morelli commented as she adjusted Trixie’s outfit.
Taking a brush from the bed the blond woman combed out the red-heads hair. Handing a makeup kit to Trixie, Sia pushed the mistress to a vanity and sat her down.
“Nothing too fancy. Best to not look like a harlot.” The blond remarked as she made her way to kitchen.
Grabbing two glasses from the cupboard, she took a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and filled them. Taking her cup, Morelli took a long drink of the cold sweet and sour liquid only stopping to prevent it from spilling on her clothes.
“If you pass you’ll be sleeping in here with me. I have to chain you at night, but you’ll be in the same bed as me so it won’t be entirely uncomfortable.”
As Trixie pressed the eyeliner to her face she wondered if that was supposed to be a subtle way of flirting or if she actually meant she’d be comfortable in a cushioned bed. Whatever it meant, the mistress closed the makeup kit and examined her work. With a sigh she stood up and headed into the kitchen to take a well needed drink of lemonade. As she placed the glass down she suddenly felt moist lips press against hers as Sia leaned in and kissed her. Trixie felt something inside of her stir and almost instinctively she wrapped an arm around the blond’s neck and pressed into the kiss further. Morelli moved her lips to the red-heads’ neck, gently kissing as she made her way down to Trixie’s exposed collar bone.
“Don’t we have a meeting, Morelli?” Trixie said with a disgruntled sigh. She wasn’t used to this feeling.
Sia gave the mistress a pouty look and headed to the door. “I guess so…”
Unlatching the heavy oak door, Morelli wrenched it open and held her dress down as the cold air from the hallway rushed in to greet her. Beckoning to Trixie, who was finishing her lemonade, she exited the room and the pair of women went to meet Lord Belial.
RE: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Shang Tsung - 04-15-2016
With a dull thud, the man landed against the harsh floor of the arena pit. The impact momentarily deprived him of his hearing, as the roars of the demonic crowd were dulled by the ringing sensation. When he found his senses a few moments later, Argento pulled his arms beneath his chest and pushed up off of the dirt floor. As he laboriously rose to his feet, he was finally able to appreciate the gravity of the situation.
He’d seen these places before, although he’d never actually gone into a gladiatorial arena. Despite the stories of how exciting Valik’s seasonal ‘games’ were, he had never opted to go. What business did a religious man have watching such blood sport… especially when that same man had a wife and two young daughters who looked to him?
Now Argento knelt on the floor of one of those very heinous structures, and much to his chagrin, the entirety of the patrons who sat in the stands above him were demons. They jeered his very presence as an announcer spoke in a language that the paladin couldn’t quite understand, given the noise level. He did hear the word ‘Belial’ a handful of times, and from the crowd reaction, the paladin could figure that Belial was the patron of this arena.
On the other side of the pit, the sound of a whining winch drew the attention of the crowd and caused them to hush just a little as they waited for the portcullis to rise. Scrambling to his feet, Argento took a moment to assess his own situation. His armor was gone, and he was clad only in the bloodstained clothes he wore beneath his normally impenetrable mantle of sun-blessed steel. His weapons were likewise gone, and even the necklace and religious icon he held on his person had been taken from him. Did these creatures know no dignity? What value would they extract from a few daguerreotypes of a man’s dead family?
Argento clenched his hands into tight fists, but even as the anger swelled within him, he knew not to let it in too much. There was a fine line between a blessed warrior and a vigilante touched by divinity. From the other side of the arena, nearly half a dozen demons shambled out from beneath the blood-marred portcullis. Each of them was armored and armed with at least two visible weapons, and those that didn’t have clear weapons sported tusks or giant, slashing digits where their fingers should have been.
“I should have expected little else from demons…” Argento muttered as he started to back away. Behind him, the gate he’d been thrown from was already closed, and a handful of demons with pikes were waiting, undoubtedly to stab at him if he attempted to flee.
Flee? I’d rather end my own life.
Turning to face the approaching horde, Argento placed a hand over his chest and tried to clear his thoughts. While the sun didn’t shine in this dreadful place, his connection with his divine guardian was still intact to an extent. He could still tap into a handful of the powers he could normally wield on the surface. Beneath the palm, he felt the familiar warmth of sunlight as the demons spread out and started to stalk toward him. From the looks on their faces, they must have seen him as some sort of pushover—a feeble, bloodied lion thrown into the den of the hyenas.
Hubris isn’t an invention of mankind.
RE: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Shang Tsung - 05-01-2016
“Feel the Sun!”
Argento threw out his palm as the warmth and radiance of the sun poured through his beleaguered body. There was a final rush of heat as a beam of condensed energy erupted from his palm and roared through the oncoming demons. Without waiting for the haze to settle, the paladin rushed forward. Before he reached the scattered masses, he scooped up a fel mace lying on the ground.
The blast had incinerated many of the abominable creatures, and for several others, it had left them broken and dying upon the ground. Argento brought a heel down onto the skull on one such demon just before twisting and dropping underneath an oncoming axe swing. The paladin retaliated with a swift, chopping swing to his attacker’s kneecap. Black blood squirted out from the sides of the creature’s sundered knee as it buckled, its weapon falling to the ground as its blade-like fingers clawed at the air for invisible grips.
After landing a coup de grace upon the demon’s sneering countenance, Argento spun and parried a club blow. The demon shrieked—its right arm broken by the force of the blow—and managed to back up a few steps before the mace glanced off the side of its head and shattered its skull.
Stepping over the corpse, Argento grimaced as a rusted blade slashed against his left bicep. With his teeth clenched tight enough to whiten his gums, the fighter turned and landed a quick one-two of mace blows against his attacker’s chest and forehead. Behind him, the man heard the skittering of clawed feet on the barren earth, and as the swords came at him, he turned and managed to intercept two of them before a third clipped his shoulder.
“Be gone from my sights, Filth,” Argento growled as he shoved forward and clenched his hand into a fist. With two of his three foes reeling on unbalanced feet, the paladin struck down his third attacker using a small burst of sunlight through its accursed gut. A beat later, he rushed the two demons and buried the mace head through the left creature’s skull.
Unable to free the mace in time, Argento had to let go of it in order to turn and grab the oncoming sword with his bare hands. The fel steel bit into his palms, but his strength was greater than his foes. With its sword trapped between the paladin’s meaty fists, the demon let out an enraged hiss and tried to free its weapon. Argento responded by throwing aside the sword, pulling the demon off balance one more time.
On this occasion, the staggered creature was unable to catch itself before a pair of bloodstained fists clamped around its neck and swiftly shattered its top four vertebrae. With the two creatures dealt with, Argento turned and steeled himself as another demon charged him.
Dropping down, the paladin grabbed a fallen sword and rushed to meet his foe. As he stampeded forward, Argento’s body was wreathed in golden sunlight, an effect that was mostly just a visual stunt but had the intended effect of giving his fel attacker pause. That pause was all that the paladin needed to drive the blade through the demon’s heart and out the back of its spine.
With his foe collapsing into a lifeless pile, Argento glanced around and saw that all of his adversaries had been vanquished. A look up to the stands revealed a lot of booing, angry spectators who had hoped to see the holy man laid low by the demon mob.
“Are you not entertained?” Argento boomed as his body shined with the might of the sun.
RE: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 05-21-2016
The capital of Thule had quickly become the beachhead for the Imperial invasion force. Able Company had captured and held the city until the expeditionary forces dropped out of orbit. It was a frightening thing to watch; to witness ten star destroyers unleash everything they had in the way of landing craft and air support upon the atmosphere of the target planet. The amount of aircraft blotted out the sun and soon the enemy had enabled its anti-aircraft systems and the skies were filled with green explosions of flak and the smoking hulks of those landing craft caught in the blasts. The starboard repulsor engine of the landing craft first squad was on erupted into flames as an anti-aircraft flak burst tore into the armored shell of the MAAT transport. First Sergeant Zulenka gripped the ceiling support and braced herself as the aircraft shuddered as it pierced through anti-aircraft fire. Able Company had secured the capital of Thule, but the invasion was far from over. Trixie and the rest of Able had been tasked with spearheading the assault outward once a forward operating base had been established in the city. Radio chatter was frantic this close to the front line. Squads were being met with heavy resistance on all sides. A slight grin formed on Beatrix’s face as the damaged craft touched down and opened its doors.
Green energy-fire tore through the torrential down pour and peppered itself into a new replacement assigned to first squad. Pushing his corpse out of the craft with her foot Trixie jumped down into the slick mud and trudged her way forward, the heavy automatic fire ripping into the cockpit of the landing craft killing the pilot. Raising her rifle up the red-head squeezed off several red blasts at the enemy positions a few hundred yards away. Able Company had been dropped in a heavily defended residential sector. They were tasked with clearing it out and securing the space port for supply drop; which was fine, but the space port was on the opposite end of the target about twenty miles away. They had been given orders to clear it out on foot and the landing craft were needed back at the Virgo to keep the waves of soldiers’ steady enough to further the Imperial presence on Thule.
Sergeant Henderson accompanied by the platoon radioman came up behind First Sergeant Zulenka and opened fire with her.
“Sergeant!” Trixie shouted over the immense roar of repulsor engines and enemy fire.
She took hold of the radio and dialed in with the short range system in her suit. Command wanted her to secure Caen Spaceport.
“Able Company! This is it!” She roared through the short-wave comms to her troops.
Without even blinking, Trixie sprinted into the distance forcing her second in-command to follow suit.
***
Belial had many forms. Of his numerous identities only one was his true demonic persona. The Tyrant Lord had arranged a gala in honor of his most profitable slave. It was uncommon and out of the ordinary for such a thing to occur, but Belial did what he wanted. Trixie had successfully tripled his profits from the fighting ring; her victories had been broadcast throughout the vast stretches of Tyrant Lord Belial’s territories causing demons and inhabitants to flock to the Citadel just to see her fight. The next bout between her and Jorgan had already sold out. Establishments televising the event had already booked their tables and bars full for patrons wanting to get a glimpse of the fight. Shipments of food, grog, and slave demons poured into the capital for the event. Sia was assigned as Trixie’s personal guardian and as she led the red-headed pit fighter to the doors of the throne room she took the mistress’ arm.
“One word of caution. If he doesn’t judge you fit enough to keep alive over Jorgan you will be killed immediately.” The blond whispered into Zulenka’s ear.
What else is new?
Trixie placed both hands on the giant wooden doors before her and pushed her way inside the throne room. The party was already well on its way. The giant cathedral like room was filled with demons and humanoid men and woman enjoying various colored drinks and plates of food being carried around by succubae servants. The room was dimly lit, but it gave off a faint red glow. The red-head could feel all of the eyes in the room turn to her as she entered with Sia in tow. Belial was in the back on his throne bellowing with laughter as a royal guard was ripping the arms off a slave.
Beatrix knew what she wanted. She knew what she had to do. Marching straight through the crowd of onlookers and party goers the pit fighter tossed her champagne glass to the floor. She gripped a nearby glaive that was attached to the wall and ripped it free. Plunging the blade into slave’s back it exploded outward through his sternum, spraying the floor with blood. Ripping it out the mistress twirled the blade and in one fluid motion brought the weapon to bear at the royal guard who had approached her. With a swift slice it’s head was now freely rolling on the floor. Belial’s laughing figure being showered with demon blood.
Twirling the blood soaked weapon, Trixie implanted the blade into the floor and stood it up vertically. Dropping to one knee she bowed her head and to the shock of the entire room, Tyrant Lord Belial waved off the rest of his guards and spared the pit fighters life.
“You have real promise and a certain death wish to take up arms so close to me, slave.” He spoke, his words heating the room with energy.
With a cackle the demon lord narrowed his eyes. “I was not wrong to spare your life. You are dismissed from my party to do as you please within Sia’s presence, for tomorrow you fight for your very existence. If you lose I will personally see to it that Jorgan grinds your body into pulp each and every time you regenerate.”
With a wave of his hand Sia took hold of the red head and ushered her back to their room.
RE: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Shang Tsung - 07-14-2016
The paladin remained silent as the vehicle pulled up to his new location.
At his previous prison, Argento had been forced to fight a variety of eldritch abominations. In almost every battle, he had been the unanimous underdog and fated to see his life brought to an end by some fel creature. Each and every occasion, Argento had disappointed the slobbering assortment of demons and devils cheering on his foes. By the end of the sixth fight, his jailors had taken to having him beaten and battered prior to combat, as if blood-letting would somehow weaken the paladin’s resolve.
The Sun doesn’t bleed. Blood means nothing.
By the end of the eleventh fight, Argento had been informed that he had been ‘sold’ to a much larger gladiatorial arena. While the paladin had hoped that the transfer process would have provided him with some opening to escape, his captors had been smart. They’d encased him in shackles and then sealed his body from the neck down into a metal sarcophagus.
“Welcome to Belial’s citadel.” One of his jailors sneered as the vehicle started to come to a stop. “You’ll be staying here for a few hours before they cart you off to the bloodworks.”
Argento offered the creature no words.
“Quiet? You’ll be screaming later, that’s for sure.” With a snicker, the demon threw open the back hatch of the vessel and gave Argento’s mobile prison a solid thump just a few inches from the paladin’s head. The emtombed man slid out of the craft and smacked the back of his skull against something hard, causing him to slip into darkness.
When he regained consciousness, Argento immediately noticed that he had been released from the metal sarcophagus and that the shackles had been removed from his body. In their place, he had been fitted with smaller manacles that anchored around a barbed circle clamped loosely around his neck. For the first time in a while, his feet were free, which meant he could stretch them and even walk a few steps once he got the blood circulating and the muscles warmed.
Once he could move around without stumbling on half-functional legs, Argento noted that he was in a small room that clearly wasn’t intended for him. The furniture was elegant, albeit in a twisted, unnatural manner that made it appear grotesque to the holy man. There was wallpaper and polished tiles on the floor and ceiling, and there was even a fruit bowl on an ebony end-table. Argento pondered eating one of the fruits for a brief moment, but then his better judgment won.
“Where am I?” The paladin questioned out loud as he walked over to the door. The knob didn’t turn when he tried it with his hand, and he was too sore to try and bash his way into whatever hells awaited him in the hallway or room adjacent to his new, lavish prison. Turning back away from the door, Argento spotted what seemed to be a pair of interior shutters. With the hope that some kind of window might be hidden behind them, the man made his way across the room and tried to open or slide away the two wooden panels. Much like the door, there was no budge to the shutters.
“Accursed prison.” Argento muttered as he turned away from the sealed window and wondered what the next move would be. While imprisoned in the previous arena, he’d managed to get the drop on his jailors on a few occasions. Much like his opponents, they always underestimated the might of the Sun, and after Argento slew four different jailors, they started to use poisoned vapors to dull his senses.
Before Argento could formulate a means to combat unseen threats, he heard the lock on the door click. The door slipped open and a young woman with red hair entered the room as the door was shut and locked behind her.
“Damn you, Sia.” The woman rasped before she realized that she wasn’t alone in the room. “Who are you?”
She didn’t appear to be a demon. For the most part, she looked like a human woman, but Argento had seen many devils that guised themselves as mortals. With nothing to defend himself, he’d have to stay on his toes if she lashed out with a concealed dagger.
For the moment, he would play the game. A paladin would never attack someone based on paranoia or guesses.
“I am Argento Camarinos,” he responded as he walked half of the distance between the two of them and extended a manacled hand to the woman. “Who are you?”
RE: [M] Retribution IV: Rebirth - Trixie - 07-24-2016
With a thud that could be felt to her very core First Sergeant Beatrix Zulenka landed on her feet and immediately pushed into a quick sprint. Instead of letting the Empire have Caen Spaceport, Thule’s Third Aerial Strike Force decided it was best to level the complex. Staff Sergeant Masters had been caught in the blast with another Corporal from Able Company. Sliding through the mud Trixie coasted under a wooden fence by the farm house she had been scouting. To this day the Invasion had been going on for several months. The Capital was still secure, but the Command had vastly underestimated how much territory they were going to have to secure around it. Rolling horizontally to the edge of a hedgerow, Zulenka crawled her way over and down into the miniature trench Able Company had carved out. Heavy rain had started a week ago and it hadn’t let up since. Everything was caked with mud or soaked completely with rain water at this point. Communications had been shut down the previous week by Thule resistance fighters as they took back the ground initially won by Zulenka and Masters.
It was a god damn nightmare. Trixie fell into her spot with a thud, feeling the cold mud press into her armor. Removing her helmet, she peeled soaking red hair from her cheeks. Placing the worn piece of armor to her side she reached into her chest compartment and removed a pack of cigarettes. With a frown she squeezed the water out of them and tossed the ruined package aside. Taking up her issued blaster rifle, the red-headed NCO removed the battery cell. Pressing a little button on the side she watched as the indicator revealed how much juice was left in the cell. Reloading the cartridge into her weapon she set it down and leaned her head back against the dirt wall of the trench. Somehow they had managed to stay concealed from the enemy for over a week. Rations were down to a minimum with drinking water being a non-issue presently.
Trixie sighed and closed her eyes as the men around her quietly chattered amongst themselves. Her second in command, her best friend since training, and at one time or another, her fuck buddy had been killed. Staff Sergeant Masters was irreplaceable. Henderson was reliable and her first choice of replacement, but she’d give anything to have Masters back.
“Sarge, are you okay?” Henderson asked as he sat down against the opposite wall.
The rain steadily poured in through the heavy foliage covering the entrenched Able Company. Trixie absorbed his words as cool drops of rain pelted her face. She wasn’t really okay. War exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her. She longed for a break from the front lines.
***
The mistress did not know how she knew, but she knew regardless that the man now standing shackled in Sia’s quarters was a paladin. Argento took a half step back as Trixie’s pupils ignited furiously with bright neon pink energy. As if being ripped at by some unseen force his shackles were wrenched open and dropped to the floor.
“I am Beatrix Zulenka.” She said handing him an apple from the fruit bowl on Sia’s table. “Eat. You look like you’ve been kept in the lower pens for quite some time.”
With a sigh Trixie walked past the paladin and secured the door.
“Welcome to the quote on quote upper class of slavery. We make enough money for our owners that they want us in the absolute best state for each battle. If I had to guess, you are our back up for the upcoming fight.”
Argento took a bite out of the apple with gusto, continuing to consume the piece of fruit as Trixie pulled a chair from the bar out and offered it to him. As the paladin reluctantly took a seat, Trixie opened up the refrigerator and took out two bottles of water and slid one across the bar counter to Argento. As she twisted off the cap and poured the cold liquid into her mouth he watched her, analyzing her mannerisms.
“I hope you sleep well, because tomorrow is the fight.” Trixie said, placing the bottle of water down on countertop.
The red-headed Sith Warrior briefly explained how Belial was tired of Jorgan and how she had been earning the Tyrant Lord so much money that he had chosen to keep her alive over letting his Quartermaster live.
“So instead of outright just executing him he’s staging a fight where me, you, and my personal guard Sia are going to fight him. I skirmished with him briefly out in the wastes and I’ll tell you that he is no joke.”
Trixie brushed her hair from her eyes. “For something of his size he can move incredibly fast. His ability to regenerate mortal wounds is second to none. If we bring him down, we’re going to have to bring him down hard.”
The paladin and the Sith locked eyes and for a second they could see into each other’s minds. Trixie’s irises had returned to their faded pink color, but Argento knew what lay behind them just by sizing up the woman before him. He could sense the tone of urgency coming from the mistress’ words. This Quartermaster Jorgan had wronged her.
***
It was the calm before the storm that fateful day outside of East City. The 105th Infantry Division had dug themselves into the ground on the eastern border ready to defend their homes, their lives, and their children. A quick look at the soldiers would tell someone they were nervous and were afraid of things to come; they were. A battalion is only as good as it's leader and for this defensive position they had two. A Saiyan hailing from the far reaches of the universe and his beautiful wife. The two of them posed an impeccable defensive formation that the cities commanders were gazing at in awe.
Beatrix the wife of this veteran Saiyan officer was stationed behind the lines manning the massive artillery cannons protected by steel defilades two feet thick. She was the mathematician calculating where they should fire and how often. It wasn't just any exploding shell they were launching into other human beings; they were catapulting a depleted energy round that would sear the flesh of anyone within a three-hundred-foot range. The weapons had been recently acquired as part of a military contract through South City for this very occasion.
The mistress' hair blew into her eyes as she drew on a map that laid out the surrounding area west of the city. It was a warm breeze coming off of the ocean; the aroma of salt filling her nostrils. She looked up to see her husband giving a lecture to a few soldiers who looked to be quaking with fear; Vad Zulenka, a military genius on the battlefield. His automatic rifle was slung around his back; deciding to use normal weaponry was a better way to lead his men who weren't as gifted as he was. The ability to manipulate and secrete metal was good for offensive maneuvers, but this was defense. She returned to her map and wrote down her calculations on a piece of scrap paper and moved toward the first battery.
Taking hold of the vertical calibration keypad she punched in her figures and the gun's motor kicked on and began adjusting the weapon to the first position. She repeated the process with the other three, saluting each gunner as she passed. The sun was bright, visibility was good, and she could get maximum range out the weapons and she intended to use it.
Vad placed a hand on one of the privates' shoulders. He never held compassion for anyone, but on the battlefield he was a leader. It wasn't compassion, it was a self-righteous want to keep everything in perfect order, but he did it with sincerity that came off as being trustworthy and forgiving; the men he commanded were inspired. He stood up within the trench and moved along the line nodding to his left and right as he passed. It was nearing noon and the invasion force was due within the next couple of minutes. The ex-assassin looked up into the sky and examined the fluffy clouds passing overhead.
A single round pierced the silence and ricocheted off of the full-blood's armor. A loud pang type sound spread through the entrenched group and back to the artillery batteries. Like clock-work four ear splitting bangs broke the silence of the beautiful afternoon. One mile out four separate fireballs burst from the ground showering molten Earth onto whatever lie below.
"Hold your positions!" Shouted Vad. "Let them come."
He grinned knowing what was in store; behind him and to the right was a turret. This turret was painted in urban camouflage and covered with thick netting around the barrel. It was a rail gun meant for one thing; destroying enemy armor quickly and effectively. The best part is that it was automated; the Saiyan could link himself to it using his telekinetic gift and aim the weapon to where he located armor.
"Sir! Enemy APC 2 'o' clock!" Screamed a voice from the line.
Trixie's eyes darted and noticed the vehicle moving through the dense foliage toward the northern line. Directing her husband's vision to the vehicle telepathically another loud bang, different from the intermittent explosions coming from behind the line, rang out. The halftrack exploded into shreds of metal and body parts. Flames billowed from within the metal frame as living soldiers tried to escape the burning vehicle; it was a sight to be seen and not forgotten.
Trixie’s mind was her own again, but she was still asleep in Sia’s bed. Suddenly the world fell away from her and she was standing before the mirror image of herself again.
“YOU! How did you access that memory!? You are not him!” Her replica screamed in anger.
“If you’d tell me who it is the fuck you were talking about maybe I could answer your question!” Trixie shouted back.
This time she felt her own anger. It was enough that she was in literal hell, but to be accused of being linked to someone she didn’t know and to have her accuser look exactly like her was nothing short of stressful. The red-headed mistress felt her previous life creep into her dark force energy enveloped her right hand. Plunging her fist into the chest of her doppelganger the mistress awoke to the crackle of the hearth fire dying and Argento snoring.
***
The day had finally arrived. Sia had not come back to the room last night so Trixie and Argento had been forced to establish a plan without her present. The paladin had gracefully accepted sleeping on the floor by the hearth fire to let Trixie have the only bed in the small studio like apartment. The plan was going to be relatively simple out of the gate. Mistress Zulenka had obtained a suit of field plate from the armory and a pair of holy weapons for him to use from contraband storage. Having free reign of the Citadel had its’ perks and with Sia too preoccupied to stop her Trixie had been able to scout the upper and lower levels. Argento was going to be the shield wall to harass Jorgan and whatever he had up his sleeve so Trixie and Sia could act. Both slaves agreed that relying on each other was mutual and to have each other’s back during the fight.
Glowing red beams of light creeped through the sealed shudders of Sia’s room in the early hours on the day of the fight. Trixie had made her new paladin acquaintance a bed out of spare pillows in front of the hearth. He was sound asleep as this was the first time he had been able to really sleep on a surface other than stone. Mistress Zulenka’s vision was blurry in the dim light as she pushed against the satin sheets and rolled over to examine the digital clock on the night stand. She dropped her clenched fist on the snooze button which made a loud thud as the buzzing alarm ceased to echo through the room. Beatrix grumbled to quietly to herself and pushed out her arms and legs into a big stretch. With a huge yawn she dropped her head back into the numerous pillows leaving the pile of red hair covering her face alone. The silk night gown she had thrown on had partially fallen down her left arm exposing that half of her bosom. Trixie’s hair was frizzled and she looked exhausted. Sleep was a luxury she could rarely afford even on good nights. Sia had not come back for the night; she was probably busy readying everything for the fight. Tyrant Lord Belial was going to have his personal army in and around the stadium to keep the peace should Jorgan try to bend or break the rules. Trixie dropped the night gown to the floor and kicked it onto the sleeping paladin’s back with her feet. Wrenching open the dresser drawer that contained underwear and bras, the red-headed pit fighter rummaged through the assorted colors and combinations until she hit the bottom. Sia always kept tight fitted spandex undergarments for serious fighting; one wouldn’t wear lace panties into a sword fight. You wanted to be comfortable if you could help it.
Slipping her feet into the tight fitting panties Trixie pulled them up over her butt and let the elastic slap against her smooth skin. Stepping into her skin tight leather pants she pulled the protective layer up to her waist and tied the strings. Fastening the steel belt, she pulled it taught. Taking the sports bra from the bed she planted a bare foot sternly into Argento’s lower back to wake the paladin. He jerked awake and spun around inside his blankets, out of habit, to face his attacker only to be met with a view of his topless roommate.
“Game time. Get on whatever clothes you have.” Trixie could care less that he could see her bosom.
She slipped into the sports bra and headed into the kitchen, pressing the power button on the coffee maker. Within seconds it began to gurgle as the water was heated and passed through the filter, dripping the liquid energy they both were going to need before having to head over to the armory. Tossing a basic set of clothes to the groggy paladin, Trixie took two mugs from the cabinet and placed them on the bar counter.
“How do you take your coffee, paladin?” She asked nonchalantly, leaning onto the counter letting her hair hang over her face.
“I do have a name other than paladin you know.” Argento replied as he slid the t-shirt over his previously shirtless body. “And to answer your question…black.”
“Good man.” Trixie grinned in agreement as she poured the newly brewed steaming liquid into the mugs.
As the paladin entered the kitchen nook from their established sleeping area she handed him a mug and took a sip from her own.
“You act like you’ve never seen a woman naked before, Argento. If you can’t handle seeing my tits, then how good can you be at spilling blood?” Trixie joked, smiling to herself.
“A paladin such as myself lives with a certain set of rules. It is dishonorable to gaze upon a woman whom you are not wed to.”
Trixie nearly spit out her coffee as she burst out laughing. “You think you need to be married to me to see my boobs? I could care less if you saw me naked whilst pleasuring myself. It’s just a naked body, paladin. There are far greater things to worry about.”
With a grin she clinked her mug against his and walked towards the apartment door. A note had been left on the door.
From Sia.
Once you’re up and sufficiently awake come to the armory. We need to get the paladin his gear and get ourselves armed.
“Come, Paladin. It is time.”
Placing his mug down Argento followed Trixie out of Sia’s apartment and down the hallway. Two royal demonic guards were waiting to escort the duo to the armory where Sia was waiting. Previously Argento had noticed that demons were snarling at him being a paladin or disgusted by his presence, but now because he was in league with this fellow slave his presence was completely ignored. Even the Royal Guard which had treated him the worst seemed to have an aura of protection about them. They were to maintain the safety of Lord Belial’s prize fighters at all costs. Even if it were to cost other demons or evil entities their lives. While he respected the amount of loyalty they showed he was disgusted that they’d turn on their own just like simply because he was worth a lot of money in a gladiatorial arena.
Trixie sipped quietly on her coffee as they descended down several flights of stairs in the citadel. The temperature slowly dipped as they passed the general population slave pens. The armory was by the main entrance. Everything Trixie had used in her previous fights had been moved into the small room lined with tables and shelves of equipment. When they arrived Sia was already completely suited up, her titanium baseball bat tied to her back.
“About damn time. What did they take you the long way?” She shot the royal guard escort a mean look before turning to the paladin.
“I managed to secure a set of blessed field plate, a divine war hammer, and a tower shield engraved with your holy symbol. Belial has allowed you full access to your divine abilities for the course of the battle.”
Argento creased his brow. “What would a demon know of the divine?”
Sia laughed. “Quite a bit I’m afraid. Just gear up and get ready.”
Trixie was slipping a pair of fingerless splint mail gloves on as Sia walked over. She began tying the leather cords that were hanging from the breastplate that Trixie had slipped on. Pressing against the mistress’ bosom, Sia fastened the thick plate armor in place. Grabbing a gladius from the table the blond knelt down and fed the belt on the sheathe between Trixie’s legs fastening the leather holder to her right thigh. Mistress Zulenka slid her arms into a weapon harness and tightened it around her chest. Grabbing a handful of pristine throwing knives from the table she carefully slid each one into the leather holder stitched into the side of the harness. Grabbing the two pistols from the table Trixie loaded a clip into each before holstering them.
Picking up the final weapon from the table, the red-head warrior twirled the guandao carefully around her person before flourishing the blade, stopping short of Sia’s throat as she approached.
“Where were you last night?” Trix stared intently at her watcher as Argento readied the hammer he had been given.
“I was where you first appeared when you were first banished. I stole some of Jorgan’s serum just in case we needed to heal you during the fight in a pinch. I was getting it put into syrettes.”
Trixie lowered the blade at the sight of a small case of medical devices in the bag at Sia’s waist. However, that wasn’t convincing enough. With a quick slash Trixie took the head of the blond woman who immediately dropped to the floor. Within seconds her corpse had turned black and began to bubble away, exposing that she had been an imposter.
“Just as I thought. Come, Paladin!” Trixie took off sprinting towards the arena door.
With an angry roar the mistress bust through the wooden paneling and exploded onto the arena floor to the amazement of the crowd and Jorgan who was standing in the center with Sia. With a huge burst of force energy, the Sith Warrior ripped Sia from her bindings and carried the blond woman over to Argento. The crowd erupted into applause and simultaneous booing towards Quartermaster Jorgan.
Belial’s thundering voice echoed through the arena, “You have sealed your fate Jorgan. Whether or not this slave ends you, your life is forfeit. GUARDS! SEAL THE EXITS!”
With a low growl Jorgan drew his sabre and turned to face the red-head slave who had costed him everything.
“You! Slave! Because of you I have lost everything!” He bellowed, ripping off his cloak exposing the monstrous fusion of bone and undead flesh that was his body.
With a nimble swipe of her bladed polearm Trixie freed Sia from her bonds. Resting the weapon on the ground the mistress drew her gladius and tossed the blade to her blond comrade.
“Looks like we got here just in time, eh Sia?”
The crowd erupted into applause as the trio spread out and circled to the right.
“ARGENTO!” Trixie shouted just as Jorgan charged.
The paladin, as if he were on the same wave length with the red-head, planted his shield firmly against his arm. As the mistress came barreling at him she leapt at the last second, placing both heels to the steel tower shield. With a grunt the paladin used his divine strength to toss Mistress Zulenka high into the air. Winding up her newly awakened force powers she cocked back and skillfully drove the bladed polearm forward like a javelin, accelerating the weapon with her force abilities. Jorgan was unable to dodge in time, the blade piercing his right shoulder. However now the blade staff was planted firmly into the arena floor. Down came Trixie onto the Quartermaster, her fist lined with throwing knives, planting her blow directly onto his face. Pushing off his chest she left the blades stuck in his rotting flesh and with a back flip landed on the ground next to Sia, who tossed the gladius back before summoning her bat to her hands.
Knock, knock! Sia was inhumanly fast and was already on Jorgan teeing up on his body with her bat. The noise a metal bat makes when it shatters bone is almost musical. Argento wasted no time joining in with a flash of golden light.
“Curse you!” Jorgan roared in agony as he was beaten back.
Trixie twirled her gladius as the monstrosity before her batted away both of her comrades and charged forward. Time seemed to slow down as the veteran Imperial soldier dropped into a stance, digging her feet into the dirt floor of the arena. The roar of the crowd became white noise as the hulk built of bone and rotting flesh charged towards her. When Jorgan vanished Sia knew something had gone wrong. Zulenka could feel the cold penetration of steel into the flesh of her belly. The force threw the mistress against the coliseum wall. Beatrix hit the wall first followed by her blade which planted itself blade first inches away from her left ear. She could hear Argento’s call out to her, but no words made it through the ringing in her ears. Within seconds the gushing blood from her torso had stopped and the flesh was sewing itself back together. Placing a gloved hand on the blade of the gladius the red-headed pit-fighter pushed herself to her feet just as Jorgan was upon her.
Argento’s eyes were engulfed in golden light as he heaved his hammer towards the monstrosity attacking his comrade. Just as Jorgans’ fist came bearing down it was met with the divine war hammer wielded by the paladin. Trixie was pulled between Jorgan’s legs violently by Sia who tossed the red-head into the air where she could regain her balance and land on her feet. The blow from the holy weapon made the Quartermaster’s hand explode and shower the vicinity with blood and flesh. It wasn’t without reprisal though as his cleaver found Sia’s right arm and severed it at the shoulder, pouring fresh blood onto the arena floor. With a cry of anger Trixie fired off a quick bolt of lightning from her arm that tore through Quartermaster Jorgan, forcing him to stumble off whilst trying to defend against the paladin’s attacks.
Without missing a beat Trixie sheathed her gladius and sprinted over to the blond, ripping off the plate armor around her chest.
“Hang in there, Sia.” Trixie pressed her hands to the open wound, feeling the warm crimson liquid between her fingers.
Pressing into the wound she felt around for the severed artery and shattered bone as the medical team approached accompanied by royal guards.
“We’ll take care of her, slave. You have a fight to attend to. Belial will make sure his most trusted Lieutenant is taken care of.”
With an angry nod Trixie took hold of Sia’s blood stained bat and sprinted off towards Argento who was beginning to buckle under Jorgan’s immense power.
“PALADIN!” Trixie bellowed as she came up behind him.
Like clockwork he raised his shield as Trixie leapt to it, jumping from it. Gripping the bat with both hands she unleashed a scream of pure rage. Her eyes lit up red like a dying star and black electricity coursed through her arms and up to the weapon she was readying. Bringing the makeshift signature weapon of her blond comrade down upon Jorgan’s head she carved through his skull and down into his torso. With one final shout she extended an open palm to the injured Quartermaster and pushed him as hard as she could muster against the arena wall where he collided with a sickening crunch.
Landing just in front of her newly acquired paladin friend, Trixie dropped to one knee and pulled a bone spike from her stomach. Tossing the bloodied appendage to the side she wiped the blood from her mouth and cursed the resilience of her enemy.
He got me with a spine through all of that?
It was like being hit by a freight train as the noise of the crowd broke through the adrenaline induced silence. Jorgan was having increased difficulty getting up and the stadium was demanding she finish him off. With an angry growl Trixie had much more in store for the monster who had so brutally tortured her. Grabbing his handless arm, she ripped it from his person showering herself and the nearby fans with fresh demonic blood. The cheering grew louder as she took a dagger from her belt and jabbed it into his eye socket. Forcefully dragging him away from the wall she drove the blade deeper into his skull, making the giant monstrosity scream in agony.
“SCREAM! SCREAM IN PAIN AND I MIGHT GRANT YOU A SWIFT DEATH!” Trixie spat as she roared, driving her dagger into the wound she had inflicted with the bat.
Carving through his demonic body Trixie removed his other arm and kicked his armless body towards the center of the ring where Argento was ready with his hammer.
“Smite him, Paladin! Make him feel your divine wrath!” Trixie demanded of her companion.
Driving the blade of her dagger through the back of Jorgan neck she wrenched his body into an upright position before twisting the blade and ripping it sideways, taking the Quartermaster’s head from his body. Gripping the mutilated head of her opponent Trixie held it high above her for all of the crowd to see.
“Is this what you want to see!” She screamed, the warm sensation of her quarry’s blood dripping down her arm.
The lifeless corpse of Quartermaster Jorgan dropped onto it’s back before it was engulfed in purple flame and incinerated to the amusement of the stadium crowd. Belial’s laugher could be heard echoing through the air.
It was finally over.