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+--- Forum: The Ashen Steppes (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=20)
+--- Thread: Step One (/showthread.php?tid=5373)
Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-15-2018
According to a watch that had been arbitrarily set to a random time, it had been nearly six hours since they had left the strange white void. In that time he had summoned a new vehicle, traveled to the edge of the monochrome bubble world and through a smoke-belching gate...then summarily lost the vehicle to unexpected engine trouble caused by a sharp upturn in not only temperature, but pollution in the air.
Internally, he blamed it entirely on the driving of his aide. He knew it was entirely inaccurate; Mister Death had in all likelihood been the better choice for driving between the two of them. Purely mortal and limited to human capabilities he may have been, but he had been doing such work and operating vehicles in all manner of terrain far more than Wesker himself had. Despite his time as a STARS operative, and later as an intelligence agent in Umbrella's covert operations, he had been more focused on the boots-on-the-ground aspect.
By his reckoning, the entire scene had taken perhaps two hours, from summoning to losing the vehicle. Which put them at another four hours, in this smoke-hazed landscape. For a while now they had been mercifully free of the shimmering heat haze that seemed intent on proving itself the maximum possible irritant, and had managed to make fairly steady progress. Progress to where, the seething executive had no idea. But progress was progress.
Mister Death's tracking skills and experience in the field had proved itself useful, however, in finding the broken carcass of what looked like a path of some sort. In this arid, ashen wasteland, it was hard to really identify it as any sort of path at all. The telltale signs were everywhere, of shifting landmasses and the lay of the land changing -- possibly by the day. Quakes in the land, flows of lava from eruptions and geological flatulence...it did not shape up to make for stable ground to traverse.
Yet somehow or other, through it all, Agent HUNK had proved his worth. It was little more than a footpath, freshly broken and trod, and in places there were stretches where it was completely lost. But it was still there to be found and followed, even if where it actually led to was a mystery.
"This entire place seems far too desolate to support any sort of developed intelligent life," Wesker finally stated. "Unless there's some sort of species that can survive off of volcanic rock and not mind the ground being torn to pieces and relaid every other day."
"Never can tell. Place like this, all bets are off," HUNK responded shortly. "Since I got here, watched you patch yourself up from what should have taken days to heal, at the least, in just a few hours of rest and effort. After pulling a new suit and wardrobe out of thin air, and making that car drop out of your imagination." The special agent turned his gasmask-covered face toward his superior. "Rock-eating lava-ignoring intelligent life seems mundane next to that."
That was a sensible enough observation, and it gave Wesker pause for a moment as he considered it. In his agitated state, he had failed to even consider it from an outside point of view. In his mind, it was just another useful ability to be carefully explored and then fully utilized and exploited. Entirely different from anything he could have possibly attained in his home world, but still something he had readily accepted. Regardless of where it came from, it was his now, and it would be a valuable tool.
...but it did cast some things into a strange light, and make him reconsider the likelihood that they wouldn't encounter anything resembling intelligent life here. The more he thought about it, the more he began to find other possibilities creeping into his mind. In an arid and desolate land like this, it was terribly unlikely that there would be an abundance of life of any sort, save for extremely hardy sorts. Certain types of reptilian creatures, perhaps, could survive in these inhospitable conditions. The lack of moisture would be their primary concern, but perhaps they had adapted enough to gather all they needed just from what they consumed; preying upon each other.
Then there was also another prospect. Reaching up a hand, he pulled the sunglasses off his face, running his other across his features to wipe away a disgusting mixture of collected sooth, ash, dust, and sweat. Squinting against the smoky haze, he scanned the horizon, and...aha. Of course, active volcanoes and mountains. Ample space for caves and quite likely underground chambers, if even one of them was inactive or had gone quiet.
The mind of a scientist was truly something, when set to a task such as this. He had not put it to such work in a long while, saving it for work in the lab rather than the field, but he was more than a little self-satisfied to find that he still had his edge when he took the time to bring it to bear. It was with a faint smirk that he slid his shades back into place, and adjusted the collar of his coat. Even for someone of his fortitude, the garment was stiflingly hot. Only the painstaking care to make it loose and flowing, all the better to billow and catch the wind, made it bearable at all.
....much longer in this insufferable hellscape, and even he would need to see about changing it, or removing it altogether, though.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-19-2018
Time had passed. How much, with the constant haze of smoke and ash clouding the skies, and the constant backdrop of fire and molten rock suffusing everything with a dull glow of red...he couldn't say accurately. His watch said it had been hours, though physically it felt like days.
Wesker now stood atop a precarious cliff, his long coat discarded in favor of a much looser cape; just something to ward off at least a little of the ash and volcanic grime, tacky and ridiculous as the thing was. His sunglasses were currently folded, resting tucked into a pocket of his suit. and a pair of binoculars lifted to his eyes as he scanned the horizon. Everywhere he looked it was the same. The occasional plume of the earth belching out a glob of its molten, melted innards, and thick clouds of noxious fumes and smoke. The actual scenery was hard to discern with any accuracy, and any actual details were all but impossible to pick out.
"Do we really need to stick around this place any longer?" Agent HUNK had been silent for a long while now, but finally spoke up. His tone was muffled and quieted by the gas mask he wore, taking the edge off his exasperation and irritation, but it did only a little to hide his ragged, sour mood. "It's dead. There's nothing here of any value to us."
"...patience, mister Death." Though the former executive had long since grown to have his own misgivings about this place and its potential use for anything other than a hellhole to dispose of problems in, he was not so quick to dismiss it entirely. He paused in his scanning of the distant terrain, furrowing his brow. "....hmm." Maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him in the shimmering hazes of smog and heat, but...as he carefully adjusted the magnification, the picture came in clearer. Still blurred and indistinct, due to distance and the terrain actively obfuscating it, but it was more certain. "Well, well....I do believe I've just found something that could be a potential point of interest."
At that proclamation, HUNK turned his attention to the horizon, retrieving a pair of binoculars from his belt to peer in the direction his superior had been scanning. It took him only a minute to find it and zero in on the object in question. "...hmm. It's faint. Signs of civilization, maybe." He lowered the visual aid from his helmet. "....you want to investigate, I assume."
A faint grin played across Wesker's face as he lowered his own field glasses. "Of course. I'm curious to know if they subsist on rocks." He could practically feel the groan that his subordinate managed to stifle. "It looks to be a few hours away, if we can maintain our pace up until now. I do hope you're not getting tired, mister Death."
The special agent just shifted his stance in a particularly disgruntled manner. "I don't know how it is for you, being a Prime or whatever...but I'm exhausted. Feels like it's been nearly a day since you summoned me here. Not any time to rest, or anything to eat or drink since then. Still only human."
"...hmph." As he retrieved his sunglasses and slid them back into place, Albert Wesker managed to refrain from a bitter scowl. Only human...yes, that was the problem. Competent as he was...Mister Death was, at the end of the day, only a human, with all of their frailties and necessities. The price paid for having a resourceful comrade, perhaps. "Yes...of course," he finally spoke aloud again. "If there is some sort of civilization there, I'm sure there will be a place for you to rest. And we can see about some...sustenance, as well."
"One last march..." HUNK muttered. "Yeah...lead on, then."
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
When he checked his watch this time, he found that his original guess had been just about perfect. Had they been able to maintain their original pace, and stick to the path he could barely pick out among the dangerous terrain, they should have been able to make it to the perceived destination within the few hours he had predicted. They had been forced to make a detour, however. The earth had seen fit to rupture and spew a lazily-flowing river of angry, red glowing rock across their path. Finding a new trail that wasn't too precarious to safely traverse had taken a frustrating length of time, made all the more annoying for the steadily-rising heat the further they went.
But finally, they had managed to clear the insufferable obstacle, and press onward. And now they stood atop another crag of solidified lava, a temporary peak in this landscape. Ahead, it could easily be seen now; signs of a makeshift village in a cleft of a looming mountain range. It was difficult to make out any specific details from their current vantage point, and not just because of the constant haze of the place. The structures seemed intentionally built to be indistinct and hard to make out from a distance. All that he could really pick out was that they were simply made, and looked like the type of thing to be easily dismantled. Probably more or less mobile.
"It looks like we've found some civilization after all...or at least a group of travelers," Wesker remarked. "Even if they can't prove to be of any use themselves, I'm sure they could point us toward a more suitable location for uncovering anything of use in this blasted wasteland."
"Glad you're excited about all this." HUNK's tone was flat, bored, and exhausted. "Personally, I'd settle for a little shelter from all this ash and smoke, and a place to lie down and rest for a while."
Wesker just shook his head, a faint smile playing at his face. "Yes...I guess that wouldn't be too bad in our present predicament." Though he would never admit it openly, this constant toil and traversing such an inhospitable locale was beginning to wear on him. Especially after his awakening from the humiliating beatdown and defeat he'd suffered back in the Nexus. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the shrouded face of his subordinate. Aside from the one who had put him in that sorry state to begin with...he was the only one who knew. And it would stay that way. "Well, let's not waste any more time here, then."
"Knowing our luck in this place so far, it'll turn out to be abandoned." The tone of the masked security officer was as dull as ever. Clearly not anywhere near thrilled about his predicament; and the state of exhaustion was just making his poor mood even worse. "We were just seeing things in all the smoke before, not any actual signs of life."
"If that is the case..." the cloaked executive started, turning to begin making his way down from the craggy rise. "...then we will simply take advantage of the opportunity for shelter and rest provided by what they left behind. When we have recovered, we shall move on." Briefly, he regretted his usage of the word 'we' in his words. It implied he was in need of rest himself, an admission of weakness which called forth a red mist of hatred over his vision for an instant. Such a thing was so far beneath him...had he been back at home, at the level of strength he deserved to be at, this would have been nothing. Even such inhospitable and dangerous conditions would have been child's play to him.
...but he was not home. He was not at his proper strength. He was so weakened here, he was no better than a mere human. It was infuriating, and humbling in a way that made the taste of bile rise bitterly in his throat. As he trudged through the desolate lavascape, his mind twisted and squirmed with bitter, loathsome images of how he compared now to his former life. That he was alive here, after dying for certain there, was barely an afterthought. Surviving through death not only once, but twice, should have been assurance of his godhood. And yet...all he could dwell on was having all the power of that very godhood ripped from him.
He looked down at a gloved hand as he curled it into a fist, the leather squeaking as it stretched taut over his knuckles. It will not last... he though, grinding his teeth together. This weakness...this indignation...will not last. I will correct it. By any means necessary.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
It was another hour and change, by count of his watch, when Wesker's boots finally stepped into the shadow of the cleft canyon in the mountainside. As he stepped forward into the canyon, he cast his eyes around warily and curiously. "Keep your weapon handy, Mister Death..." he said quietly. "Just in case we encounter something...dangerous."
"If we encounter anything at all..." HUNK grumbled. But over the particulate-laden wind howling across the mouth of the canyon, the faint clatter and click of him checking the safety and ammunition status of his firearms could be heard. "Damn...all this ash and grit has gone a number on this thing...would've been a mess if I tried to fire without a little cleaning."
Inwardly, Wesker smirked faintly. "Well, I suppose it's good you checked, then. Wouldn't want you blowing up from a faulty weapon, now." Truth be told, he was doubtful if even his own weapon exploding would be enough to even slow down someone like Agent HUNK. The man had survived a mutated William Birkin, and an infected Raccoon City, along with all the dangers it had had to throw at him. A little thing like a firearm explosion didn't even register compared to that. It would take something far more grandiose to kill a man like him. Whether he just had the devil's luck, or was just that good, no one had ever figured out...though no one had really cared to look too deeply into it. He had gotten results, and that was all that mattered in the eyes of Umbrella's upper crust.
They had scarcely gone another dozen paces, the structure of the dwellings they had spied out before just becoming clear, when a deep, rumbling voice bellowed from up above. "Whoa, there, outsiders!" And a moment later, the ground trembled as what appeared to be a boulder nearly the height of a man dropped out of the air. Ash and dirt plumed into the air, the two outsiders recoiling in surprise. Rising up from the impact site, the boulder unfurled, a pair of arms capped with huge hands planting themselves in the dirt and heaving up a torso that would have looked more at home on a barrel than anything living. Short, stocky legs thudded to ground to support the creature as it stood up fully. Rock-crusted tree trunk arms slowly folded over a torso covered in enough muscle to embarrass the likes of Chris Redfield. Deep eyes, shining a dark blue color, peered warily down at the two visitors from under thick, bushy eyebrows. "This is Goron territory! What business do you have, here?"
The narrowed eyes, and harshly-worded speech of the giant rock creature made it clear enough to Wesker: while they wouldn't be stopped from going in, they weren't exactly welcome here by any means. Still...the entrance of the creature had certainly left an impression. And it brought all manner of ideas to mind, the inner scientist dwelling in the recesses of his mind rising from years of slumber with a manic start.
Doing his best to remain civil, Wesker coughed to clear his throat, before reaching up to adjust his sunglasses. "My apologies...I had no intention of trespassing. I've just newly arrived to this place and got lost traversing this..." He waved a hand absently at the lava-spewing landscape behind him. "...hellscape. My associate and I are extremely exhausted, and rather ill-supplied to continue going on for much longer. We happened to spy this place from a distance, and though it might offer some shelter from the elements where we could rest for a while, to regain some strength."
The weight of the Goron's stare was almost overbearing as it drilled into the former executive, his stony features betraying nothing of his mind's working. He seemed to be working up to something, when another voice hollered from further within the village, and the sound of tumbling earth sounded. Another boulder came rolling and thundering toward them, skidding to a stop and unfurling into another Goron; shorter and not as overtly muscular as the one from on high, but much stockier and broader. "What's the commotion here, Brother?" he rumbled, looking from Wesker, to HUNK, and back to his associate.
Boulderfall just grunted. "Two outsiders here...got lost in the Steppes. Came here looking for shelter."
Roller Derby planted hands on his hips, peering at the two new arrivals with every ounce of intensity his fellow had just moments before. "....hrmm. Don't trust 'em. They look shifty," he finally announced.
"Aye. I agree with you, Brother," the tumbling thunder rumbled, with a nod of his rocky head. "...but it's going to rain out there, soon. It'd be a near death sentence to send them away into that."
"....hrrrmmm..." The rolling stone grumbled and grumped, tapping one foot on the ground with a noise like hammer and anvil. "...fine," he finally stated. "Let them in. They can stay until the storm passes. Just keep an eye on them." And without another word, he dropped back to the ground, curling into his boulder state, and tumbled into a roll, thundering away with surprising speed.
The majestic crashing brick watched him go, before turning back to Wesker with a disgruntled stare. "Right...we're in the middle of packing to head off to another site to make our home for the next little while, so things will be busy around here. But like was stated, you're free to use the canyon here as shelter from the elements. Be mindful of the rain, take shelter from it where you can. It's liable to eat you alive if you don't." And with that he, too, tucked himself into a boulderball and trundled away, deeper into the camp.
"....I feel like I just had a fever dream," HUNK stated, breaking his silence since they had arrived.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
The village was just about exactly as Wesker had envisioned it. Composed of sturdy structures, meant to be easy to tear down and put up again. The population was entirely composed of the rock-creatures -- Gorons, as he had to remind himself. They ranged in size and overall stature, some of them being shorter than your average human and some being easily head and shoulders taller than even a very tall man. Ranging from just about as broad and stout as a man, to bearing more resemblance to a boulder. Some of them were bald, some sported sparse growths of hair, typically in strange shades of pale blonde or gray, at stark odds with their otherwise dark and rocky complexions and appearance.
The one thing all of them had in common was their backs, covered in a layer of jagged material, like organic rock. The older and more rugged looking Gorons, as he began to take note of, had larger and more craggy, jagged patches of rock adorning their backs. Some even had huge growths of spiny boulder covering their backs, nearly akin to the shell of a stony tortoise. Seemingly, it was as both a form of self defense and a natural aid to their lifestyle of curling up and rolling about. The jagged spikes and rock would crush and mow down anything they slammed or rammed into, most likely, as well as providing a tough barrier against any hostile or dangerous ground they might roll over. All that rolling and thundering about probably helped to keep the jagged growths of stone filed down and somewhat manageable.
It was all very interesting, and from where he sat in the 'shade' of a hastily summoned tent, Wesker made note of his observations and findings in an electronic notepad he had taken the time to summon. There was much potential here, for use in his experiments and possible advances to his designs. If he could find a way back home, with new information and inspiration like this...it could be of great use indeed. Perhaps even here, it could be of some use. Testing the limits of what this Omnilium substance was truly capable of.
He was thankful, overall, that he had been left more or less alone after his arrival. Aside from the occasional surly stare from a passing Goron as they went about their work of dismantling and preparing for their exodus, he had been left free and unbothered. The great and majestic not-so-gravity-defying boulder and his partner the eternally grumpy rolling lump had wandered by more than most, making it clear enough they were keeping an eye on him.
But there were some among their number who were less grumpy and outwardly dismissive and hostile. One of them had even stopped to share a conversation, and with some careful prodding Wesker had been able to unearth much about both the Gorons, and this location in general.
It was called the Ashen Steppes. Just one verse of eight primary ones, and perhaps the most inhospitable one. The Goron pointed out that Wesker had phenomenally bad luck, or an extremely poor guide, if he had wound up in the Steppes as his first locale to visit in the Omniverse. The Gorons called it home, but they had lived in an active volcano even in their homeworld, so it was actually a bit less awful than where they had come from.
More and more information was pried out of the rock-creature, whenever he stopped by again. Every now and then he had to excuse himself, to return to work. It was a busy time, and all hands were needed. But eventually he always came back, with more answers to be provided to more questions. The question of the rain was eventually brought up, and the Goron pointed out the danger of it: acid rain. Far more acidic and dangerous than the dismissive tone with which Wesker noted it, capable of literally melting down and dissolving even living creatures caught out in a bad storm for even a few hours. It was why they had relented to allow the outsiders into the village during such a busy time in the first place.
With that information digested, Wesker was far more grateful than he had been before. Especially with the sign of a drizzle beginning to fall outside already. The Gorons, as was noted, had learned to adapt to it and could withstand the acidic downpour for short periods. The hides of their dwellings, thankfully, were made of tough drake hides and rock lizard skins, nearly impervious to the dissolving deluges.
Wesker shortly enough accepted the generous offer of his Goron informant to take shelter in his own tent, made of the resilient animal hides, to wait out the storm. The one he'd conjured up would be lucky to last until it really started raining.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
In the relative safety of the much more sturdy temporary dwelling, Wesker had yet more questions for his gracious host. The scientist lurking within his mind had reawoken with a manic vigor, seeking answers to everything laid before him. Why were they packing up? Where were they going? Why choose to travel at such a precarious time? Why leave such a place of relative safety? It was all rather confusing and hard to wrap his mind around solidly, with as little information as he had.
But soon enough, it was all broken down for him. As Agent HUNK finally took a much-needed nap, Albert Wesker sat in rapt attention like an overly-fascinated child during story time.
A tale was woven, roughly in the fashion of the Gorons, of their situation. They had once lived high up on Death Mountain. In the shadow of a gargantuan dragon, Volvagia, and its horrendously large and powerful brood. A menace, but it was mostly content to remain in its lair, and they could survive against its horde so long as they were careful. But eventually, someone had come along with intent to destroy the dragon. In a long and arduous process, with the hard-won assistance of the Gorons themselves, the insane, impossible task had been accomplished. Volvagia had been banished, and that had been the end of that.
The aftermath of it all was something else...Death Mountain had been shattered, the Gorons finding their home left in ruins. So it was that they took up a nomadic lifestyle. Traveling from place to place; places of relative safety and stability in the dangerous verse. Never staying in one place for too long, lest the dangers of the verse catch them, or the remnants of Volvagia's brood track them down. They had just about outstayed their safety in this place, safe as it was. Their scouts had seen things lurking and roaming around among the cliffs overhead and edging in. Not aware of them yet, but getting closer all the time.
Things took a turn when suddenly Wesker found himself on the receiving end of the questions. What were they doing here? Who were they? Why travel such a dreadful place in such an ill-equipped state?
Wesker took great care in offering any answers. He was just a simple scientist and doctor, more than anything. Recently arrived here, and wandering without aim. The currently sleeping individual was his bodyguard, an explanation which satisfied both why HUNK was so well-armed and why Wesker himself was seemingly all but unarmed. They were so poorly equipped because...of unfortunate circumstances outside of their direct control. It had been hard to find a place that seemed safe enough to devote to procuring any supplies, once they had begun to learn what sort of place this verse was. By that point, it had even grown too late to easily return by the path they'd come, leaving them little option but to press onward and hope for the best.
It was only passingly true. All the facts were there, but shot so full of holes, half-truths and lies of omission that it was almost transparent. After several long minutes of digestion and contemplation, the Goron just nodded thoughtfully, seeming to accept the story, commenting on how it was a remarkable turn of bad luck. Not an unheard of one either, here in the Steppes, sad as it was to say.
It did bring another though to the rocky creature's mind, if the way his eyes lit up was any indication. They would be setting out fairly soon, as had already been made clear. Their road was liable to be at least slightly dangerous, and filled with hazards both natural and in the form of the other creatures living in the verse. Having another pair of helpers along for the trip would be of great use, especially ones with medical and combat experience. It would also, as the boulder-man quickly added, provide a way to see more of the Steppes, and learn what to look for when searching out areas of relative safety.
Wesker considered the offer, for a good long while. The only issue he could really see was not knowing how long their journey would take...but it wasn't really as if he had any truly pressing plans or matters to attend to. He didn't even have a schedule to be empty, in all honesty. And there were other things he wanted to look into here...many of which he could do just as easily while traveling with the burly rock creatures as he could while sitting and observing them at work. Perhaps there would even be a chance to see them in combat, out on the trail, and gather further information for his burgeoning plans and future endeavors.
Eventually, a smile crept onto the face of the would-be god. He agreed to the terms. The information he would gain about the verse along the journey would be of immense help, and he would be glad to lend what assistance he could to them during the trip.
The Goron was delighted to hear as much, and clapped Wesker on the shoulder as he informed that he would go and inform the Chief that there would be two outsiders joining them on their upcoming trip. He was sure that the Chief would be thrilled for the extra help. Wesker watched the boisterous behemoth trundle off, before reaching up to remove his sunglasses. Being so...friendly for such a prolonged period of time was exhausting. Now he was in genuine need of some rest.
And somehow, not at all looking forward to dealing with the Goron's Chieftain in the slightest.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
The night, as Wesker had been informed that it was, passed without further incident or interruption. The acidic downpour outside lasted for several long, damp hours, adding the noxious, sulfuric tang of melting stone to the already unpleasant haze of mingling volcanic aroma permeating the air. Eventually it slackened off, leaving just a smattering of puddles of vile liquid and dissolved earth in its wake.
In his gratefully accepted shelter, he had been hard at work. Compiling his gathered information into more manageable notes and resources for later use in his research. Taking the time to summon proper supplies and materials for the journey ahead. They thought him but a mere scientist and doctor, and so he must act the part. In truth he only had knowledge of basic field medicine and treatment to prevent injuries from worsening, rather than actually treating or tending to them for proper healing or long-term care, but he suspected it might be more than many of these rock-creatures had. Even supposing they had the training, it wasn't likely they would have the dextrous touch needed, with their huge and clumsy-looking hands. Two fingers on most of them had the same bulk as Wesker's entire hand, and while that didn't necessarily mean they were less capable of delicate manipulation or fine work, it did mean they would be limited in what they could handle properly. Not even to mention their...robust, bulky physiques. They were far from flexible creatures, and there would be gaps in what they could handle based on just that.
Among the various medical supplies and more conventional items he summoned, he took time to conjure up a new wardrobe for himself. One more suited to the sweltering climate of the Ashen Steppes. His sunglasses remained, and an overlying garment that would hide the extent of his supplies -- and his sidearm -- from easy view. But far more bearable in this wretched hellscape.
And of course, among it all, were more proper arms and equipment for Mister Death. He had been armed only with a basic rifle until now, definitely serviceable but not offering much of the utility and versatility the security officer was known for. Having seen the man's files and reports, though...Wesker knew exactly what sort of armaments he employed and utilized. Dredging through his memories, the executive took great care to summon exact replicas of the Grim Reaper's preferred and personalized arms and armor. And of course...an ample amount of sustenance. Food and drink both. While Wesker had already grown to suspect he no longer required either of them, the knowledge did little to stop his body from sending out aching pangs of hunger and thirst. Nor, for that matter, did it stop his mind from growing sluggish from lack of sleep, even if he knew he could go on without it. Some lingering trace of his former world hanging on with a deathgrip.
With his new equipment and possessions successfully summoned, the would-be god allowed himself to finally drift into sleep. Not the dull ghost of sleep, as he had been choked into by that bitch in the red dress. Deep, genuine, restful sleep. He was thankful, this time, that his mind did not wander and find itself in another maddeningly twisted dream of impending death, and only slumbered quietly through the night...
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
Though it would be hard to call it daybreak, given the lack of any clearly visible sun to spot rising over the horizon, morning slowly dawned upon the Ashen Steppes. Or at least, so he was told, when his informant within the small Goron settlement greeted him and roused him from slumber after what seemed only a few hours. The timepiece on his wrist said otherwise, that it had been nearly seven hours. Still, it was sufficient for his needs, for now.
He rose, and set about preparing for the impending march to who could say where. HUNK was roused from his sleep, and as he fought away the sleep from his mind, the security officer was filled in on the events of the previous day, as he had lain asleep. The information about the Gorons, their current business among them. And, when their host had excused himself to go tend to final packing and preparations, their cover story during the nomadic trip.
"This may be more mess and trouble than it's worth," the disgruntled soldier noted, as he busied himself scarfing a hasty meal. Food was welcome, after a day like the previous one. "No telling if we'll actually get anything useful out of this. And altruism isn't really either of our styles."
"I'm well aware of that fact." The executive merely took a moment to polish and clean his sunglasses, holding them up to examine them for any lingering dust or grime before sliding them back into place over his eyes. "But there is a purpose to everything I do, I assure you. Even such a task as this." During the night, before sleep had fully claimed him, he had devoted as much time as his tired mind would allow to designing a thorough course of action for what purpose this all would serve. The little tidbits of information he had earned from his conversation had been enough to plant seeds that he would be sure to tend to later, and see where their growth led him. That this was but one verse of eight readily accessible was one; he would of course need to devote substantial time to exploring each one, to find a suitable location for a more permanent base of operations.
But the final result he had come to in this verse was to use these creatures for his own ends. Perhaps not directly...but as a source of information. Contacts in this inhospitable land, should he ever need to return here. He would work with them, and make himself trusted and useful in their eyes. Just a hapless, underprepared traveler, gratefully repaying the freely offered shelter and information with such skills as he had. Given the general attitude he had seen from who he presumed to be guards at the gate, it would not be easy to earn the trust of the entirety of this people. Some were amiable and civil enough, even if not overly fond of outsiders. But most seemed closed off and distrustful, at best, and all but openly hostile at worst.
"The plans of the gods are not for us mere mortals to comprehend," HUNK muttered. "Or something like that. I'll leave the scheming and plotting to you. Just point me at any problems you have along the way." He had taken to carefully checking over the newly summoned weapons and equipment his superior had prepared for him. More advanced and modern body armor, and a full complement of his preferred knives was among them, not to mention the inclusion of his customized pistol and a bevy of grenades and spare ammunition magazines to fill the empty pouches and equipment slots at his belt. The riot shield was also a nice touch. Extra protection, and collapsible for when carrying it around at full-size would just be a hassle. "Looks like we're going loaded for bear. Why all the heavy arms?"
"We cannot know what to expect." Wesker's answer was short, almost dismissive. As if it should have been obvious. "And given what I have learned of this place...it seemed only prudent to ensure the appearance of proper effort and preparedness."
"Right..." HUNK offered no protest to that, just taking care of properly loading and storing away his new equipment. "Guess it's gonna be busy days ahead, then."
"Mmm. You can say that again." One of the Gorons chose that moment to approach, overhearing the tail end of their conversation. "At full pace march, it'll be a long trip. Many long miles, even as a dragon might fly." He stroked at a growth of graphite-like beard. "With the terrain being as unsteady as it is...could be exactly that distance on foot, or could be five times that." He held up a hand to forestall the disgruntled responses he predicted coming. "It's not an easy journey. We won't fault you if you don't want to make the trek with us, especially along this route. It takes a dip through the caves, right through the territory of a fire drake."
"A fire drake..." Wesker repeated quietly. "Might I request some information about such a beast? I must confess I've never had the chance to be exposed to any such creature before."
"Hrmm...yeah. We'll get you up to speed. You'll need to know how to treat any wounds we get from the blasted thing." His deep-set eyes rolled around to focus on HUNK. "And you'll need to know how to fight it. They're tough things, hard to actually injure straight-on."
Without his signature gas mask on, the faint smirk that spread over the security officer's face was plain as day to see. "Wonderful. I do love learning new things. Especially how to kill new things."
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
Their education on the proper manner to contend with the troubles associated with fire drakes was hastily carried out, much of it while they were making the last preparations to ship out, and even while they were underway on their exit from the canyon carved into the mountains. The creatures were, as was spelled out for them, extremely fierce when riled up. Strong, of course, all creatures associated with dragons were; and every bit as tough and hard to put down as they were fierce and savage. The only benefit to dealing with was that they were, as a rule, not exactly what one might call exceptionally intelligent. Certainly they were possessed of a frightening, bestial and predatory cunning, but they were not creatures of great insight or thinking capacity.
Facing them head on was dangerous, even for an experienced and powerful force. But leading them into traps and destroying them by out-thinking the beasts was the way that they were usually dealt with, when they began causing a ruckus.
Of course...in this instance, the Gorons hoped to simply slip through its territory without raising its ire at all, if they could manage it. They were well enough equipped and experienced to contend with it, if they absolutely had to, but the optimal plan would be to avoid it altogether. What supplies they had would be better served elsewhere, not dealing with a rampaging drake. Not even to mention the potential injuries that would slow down their progress even further, exposing them to more dangers.
Though outwardly, Wesker expressed his agreement and understanding; how avoiding such an unnecessary encounter would be for the best, simply to speed along their progress if nothing else, inwardly it was another matter altogether. He harbored an intense, burning drive to see this creature for himself. An encounter with it would play right into his hands. He could observe these Gorons at work in combat, see just how powerful they really were, and if it matched up to the titanic physique even the smallest and weakest of them sported. It would even present him with the chance to acquire some samples and resources to use for later analysis of the rock creatures for his experiments.
....and, of course, there would be the opportunity to exploit the encounter to study this drake creature firsthand, and even acquire some samples of it for his own ends. That he would be certain to be of use in the encounter, helping to set and bait a trap to put it down, would be of further benefit. Cleaning up in the aftermath, helping tend to any wounded while extracting his required materials, would only further solidify and cement his position and favor among the nomadic group of creatures. It would be too perfect of an opportunity to pass up.
Given the luck they had had since arriving here, it didn't even seem like too much of a longshot they would end up wandering right into the middle of its territory by some unplanned change in the path. Volcanic eruptions and flows of lava were altogether too common, and already, scarcely an hour and a few miles after their departure they had been forced to divert several times, making large detours and loops around newly formed crags, pits, and lava geysers. Only minor deviations, taking a few minutes each at worst, but it did not bode well for the long journey ahead of them.
When one of the Goron scouts, leading the party from far ahead, brought back word that 'one of the big mountains was looking ready to blow sometime soon', the mood of the entire tribe seemed to grow sour and disgruntled. That would definitely complicate matters. Depending on how bad it got...might even force them underground, to take the safe paths. Would definitely be the longer road, and a definitely still dangerous just due to how dark it was and how many things lurked below the surface, but at least the air would be cleaner and visibility would be easier, with some torches and lights. Slightly less danger of tripping into an unexpected lava stream, to boot.
It was a mixed bag, for Wesker. But he accepted it without comment, just trudging on among the strange rolling boulder tribe.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
Aside from a wide, sweeping detour around a newly formed molten lake, the first day of the journey went reasonably well. They'd had a brief run-in with a den of salamanders -- huge lizards, nearly the size of hunting dogs, bodies rippling with muscle and unnatural heat -- but had dealt with them easily enough. Despite the level of heat they gave off, making the very air around them shimmer and ripple like asphalt in the desert, the Gorons had seemed unperturbed. Striking and battering at them with bare hands, even going so far as to grapple and pick them up, hurling them aside and out of their path. The warriors held them off while the rest of the convoy shuffled and filed quickly past.
It was an interesting scene to witness, and at his command and with the assistance of one of the more amenable Gorons, Wesker had HUNK exterminate one of the salamanders, quickly doing his work on the fresh corpse. Extracting all manner of minor pieces and samples of it; blood, tissue, scales. Even taking the time to break it down into raw Omnilium, harvesting it for both further strength and information. Another potent aspect in what was to come, later down the line...
Beyond that, there had been little of concern, save for the worrying sighting of a rogue pterosaur. It soared overhead, so high that it was barely a blurred shadow among the hazy clouds. But the keen, alert eyes of Goron scouts didn't miss it, and were quick to point it out. "Where there was one," they said, "there were always more close by." Based on that comment, and the sheer size of the winged shadow...the former Umbrella executive was forced to assume that tangling with an entire group of the flying reptilians was completely out of the question. He wisely chose to simply hurry along after the rest of the group, taking the opportunity to send HUNK ahead to situate himself among the scouts. Make himself useful, with his specialized talents.
For hours, and then more, they walked. Traversing the Steppes, through a laboriously twisting and winding path among the uneven, constantly shifting landscape. At one point, a scout had reported back there was a clear path up ahead, and only minutes later when they reached it they found it already blocked by a slow-oozing lava flow. The Gorons could have forded it easily, being near-immune to even the temperatures of molten rock, but their belongings and supplies were another matter, and wouldn't survive being that close to that high heat for so long. Another course had to be planned, which called for doubling back upon their route for some time, before finding a suitable alternate path to follow.
By day's end, or at least when a temporary to the march was finally called, they had traversed nearly thirty miles of ground, in all their meandering walking. The constant detours and out of the way loops they had to take to find easy to traverse terrain for their more stout members to trundle and lumber along hadn't helped. Despite all their toil, they had barely covered a dozen miles, as the bird flew. It was still good progress, according to one of the more amiable rock-folk. Everyone hoped they could find a way to make better time, of course, but even at this rate they should be able to make it to the cave system they were seeking in just another day or two. From there, it would be less than a day's determined march onward to their next destination.
It put into perspective just how precarious travel could be by land in a place like this, and made Wesker cast his eyes skyward again. He had an all-new appreciation for why the creatures of the air might be so much more well-suited to a place like this. Much easier to get from place to place, for one.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
The brief interlude from the long march lasted for perhaps an hour. Just long enough for a quick breather, and for some scouting of the nearby area to ferret out a path to start in on again to be found. Wesker took full advantage of that time, to rest such as he could, and to get more questions answered. About anything and everything that seemed even partially relevant. In turn he provided answers to the curious queries of the Gorons. He was evasive, choosing his words very deliberately and carefully. Haltingly, he spoke his answers, putting on a show of being confused and trying to find suitable responses. The effort was, of course, very genuine; the reasons behind it were where the veil of lies was cast.
Still, his provided answers served to placate the creatures and ease off the air of suspicion and mistrust. Already he had proven useful, if only mildly so. Sharp eyes on his part, and a deadeyed shot from his subordinate, had steered away wild creatures that they might have otherwise missed until they were much more worryingly close. The few injuries they had sustained from salamander claws and bites had also been tended to by the so-called scientist. Little more than scratches and nuisances, but they were highly painful and even the rocky brutes knew that in such a toxic, smog-laded landscape as this, open wounds were a poor thing to leave untended. Even minor ones.
When they had found the path forward again, the steady march resumed. This time with far more success and less abundant detouring. A long stretch of mostly even ground, the only obstacle being patches of still nearly-molten ground, and bubbling pools of glowing, liquid earth. A recent eruption had likely spilled lava for a huge area, or else vomited it out from below the ground. The going was treacherous, for in places the rock had cooled enough to lose its angry, shimmering red hue but still hot enough to warrant risk of injury for the Umbrella employees, or damage to the goods of the Gorons. Of one particular type of cargo were they especially wary of, and took great pains to steer it along the coolest and safest path they could find.
When next they paused for a short break as the path seemed to veer off toward a craggy hill dotted with caves, Wesker inquired about the odd cargo. The answer he received was...surprising, to say the least. Bomb Flowers, they were called. Naturally-growing plants, packed with substances resembling gunpowder, and every bit as explosive, from the description. Some sort of reaction occurred when they were picked, unless proper care to harvest them was taken, and a sort of 'fuse' would ignite from it. The fuse was several seconds long, so it was easy to dispose of an improperly picked flower; but the damage they could unleash was still substantial. A single flower could demolish a solid boulder the size of even a robust Goron, or crack apart and splinter even much larger structures and walls. Harvesting them was part of the reason they had been in the canyon within the mountains, where the two outsiders had come upon them.
The plants were very particular about where they would grow, and volcanic soil was among the best and most preferred places for them to take root and flourish. There was no shortage of that to be found in the Steppes, it was true, but the place where they had been was a unique area, well-suited to the cultivation of the flowers. There was enough moisture there, seeping up from below, to provide them with what little they needed to grow, while still being in a relatively open area to take in what precious little sunlight actually shone down through the smoggy haze. And of course, it was a secure enough area, where the crop could be watched over and harvested when the time came, with significantly less worry of wild creatures getting into the crop and ruining it.
Ridiculous as it seemed, there were actually creatures in this volcanic slice of world that consumed the explosive fruits as a primary feature of their diet. The explosions, when they went off, seemed to do little more than cause them indigestion. Even more ridiculous, they could be warded off with the potent stench of the smoke produced by the exploding fruit, which could make them ill if directly inhaled, but which seemed to cause no ill effect if the flowers detonated inside their gullet.
"Like something out of a damn cartoon or video game," Agent HUNK muttered, when there was a lull in the conversation. The Gorons knew of what both those things were only by word of mouth from other travelers, and even then only vaguely, but they did agree. It sounded pretty ridiculous and far-fetched, even to them, who had been living alongside and fighting with the creatures for centuries, even back in their home world. Dodongos, they were called, when he finally thought to ask. Giant lizards, covered in steel-like scales everywhere except their tails and underside. Phenomenal lung capacity, able to suck in even a grown man just by inhaling, and capable of breathing fire hot enough to melt stone. And the icing on the cake was they could burrow through even solid stone, and with enough time to grow could reach a sufficient size they could dwarf most moderately-sized homes and buildings.
The only reason they weren't much more dangerous was their phenomenal idiocy and lack of intelligence. They were driven only by hunger and a territorial drive to protect their hunting and living grounds. Stay out of them, or simply outrun them if you ventured into their territory (he later discovered that these Dodongo creatures were not very quick at all, save for their hunting pounce), and they were as harmless as any other wild animal. Details which Wesker made careful note of, for later. Perhaps there was more that he could get from them, if he ever had chance to encounter one directly.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
Their day's march was brought to a halt, as they sheltered within one of the caves they had come across. The night brought with it no further dangers, save for a rumbling deep within the earth that set the entire landscape to quaking. The crashing of boulders and an explosive burst of lava tearing the earth asunder in the distance served as an alarm for the entire group the next 'morning', and provided a solid impetus to get underway again with all rapidity.
Haste was the pervading order of the day as they roused themselves from slumber. Food was prepared and eaten, mostly cold in the name of expedience. And in the case of the Gorons, a fair amount of it was rock. Rock Sirloin, according to one of the more boisterous and friendly of the behemoth creatures. Finest stuff a growing Goron could get their hands on. Would've been better properly cooked, quick-fried in a lava bath, but that was a luxury they couldn't really afford now. They were moving again within an hour of the first awakening.
The second day's march quickly proved itself far more easygoing and simple than the first. The looming shadows of a swarm of pterosaurs and dragons circled overhead, their shrieking cries and piercing squeals echoing across the land. They had gotten quite riled up, and locked into a heated engagement. Now and then, one of them would come plummeting down to earth, crashing down in a plume of ash and dust, or else splash down in molten rock and skitter across the boiling surface. Like water on waxed metal, they bounced and floundered, flapping and spasming around until they finally combusted and melted, sinking into the viscous volcanic sludge.
It was a grim sight, but it was one they could contend with. It didn't present any obstacle to them, just a constant hazard they had to be alert for. Should the aerial predators decide to stop demolishing each other and turn their attention ground-ward, there would be precious little that could be done about it, save to try and fight back and flee.
The prehistoric flying beasts would be bad enough, as the Gorons told. They were strong and vicious, the bigger ones capable of carrying away a fully-grown Goron. But they were notoriously fragile and a well-placed rock, launched by powerful Goron arms, could knock one clean out of the sky. The dragonlings swarming around would be the bigger problem. Lightning-quick and with an unnatural intellect and cunning, coupled with surprising strength and resilience even at their young age and small size; their fiery breath couldn't do significant harm to a Goron at their development and size, but it was still a hazard. Especially for the likes of Wesker and his subordinate.
Thankfully, they managed to leave the swarming predators behind after a few hours of determined marching. Their shrill squawks and screams faded into the background distance, and tension bled away from the group. They had seen predators from both sides swoop down upon the fallen, tearing and devouring at the bodies before they were even dead. Regardless of whether it was one of their own, or one of their rival, it mattered little; meat was meat. It was certainly a grisly sight, but Wesker took it in stride. Nothing compared to some of the monstrosities he'd seen and even had a hand in creating, with his work among Umbrella's viruses. The likes of even Lisa Trevor was a far more terrifying prospect than any of these creatures. She had been...imperfect, it was true, but a valuable specimen all the same, and her resilience and strength was nothing short of phenomenal.
It brought to mind old memories, as they trekked across the lava-stained wastelands. Wiping ash and grime from his face and glasses, as he recalled his original work in the mansion and research facility in the Arklay Mountains. Work at the behest of Spencer...it had been the beginning of something far greater than the delusional old man could have ever seen coming. Unbidden, a smile crawled onto Wesker's features, a quiet chuckle rising in his throat. Such...fond memories, of his humble beginnings.
RE: Step One - Albert Wesker - 02-21-2018
On they went, through the day and well into the night. One of their more keen-eyed scouts had reported back to them, the huge volcano they'd been concerned about when setting out was now spewing out more smoke and ash than ever, and rumblings in the earth were getting worse. It was liable to blow any time now, and they had many miles to put between it and themselves if they wanted to be out of the immediate danger zone. Luckily, one of their long-distance rollers had gone ahead the day before, and now reported back, crashing over the ridge of a nearby cliff to thud down before them. Their destination was just ahead from this point, a few hours solid march. If they kept on through the night, they would get there well before the morning.
This was well-received news by everyone in the group. The news that the recent earthquake had split open a new entrance beneath the earth, which would let them bypass the territory of the drake they had been concerned about was even more well-received, by everyone but the scientist among their group. Outwardly, he wore a mask of delight and relief, just as much as any of his traveling companions did. But inwardly he seethed and lamented the loss of that opportunity. Something as powerful as one of the drakes of this slice of hell would have made a potent addition to his store of materials and research supplies. He would just have to make do with what he had already acquired, and return later to capture a specimen for that purpose.
In the present he just trudged on ahead, staying with the herd, as it were. With a destination in sight and it being so close, the pace of travel had lifted along with the spirits of the travelers. The stocky, stubby legs of the Gorons weren't exactly suited to swift travel, so even their increased pace was barely more than a swift walk for Wesker and his subordinate. Much talk had broken out, and now even the most surly and distrusting of the Gorons had brightened and cheered up. No longer did they scowl at him, call him 'Outsider', and steer clear of him. They now clapped an arm around his shoulders, called him by name, and laughed boisterously.
He had done only little to be of actual assistance, but he had been earnest in his efforts and what little aid he had provided was still of use. They had let their distrust and hatred of outsiders fade, in regards to the executive and his bodyguard. They were alright, as one Goron stated proudly, and would be welcome among their village any time, wherever they might settle. It was all Wesker could do to keep the self-satisfied smirk from dominating his expression. It had been all too easy, really. He shared a look with HUNK, and received only a short nod in return. Mission successful.
Onward they went, until the sight of their destination was pointed out on the horizon. A deep cleft in the earth, like a massive blade had smashed and carved it open. Jagged cliff walls jutted up from either side, framing it with the look of the fangs of some hellish mouth, opening wide from below the ground. There was a narrow path, between the jagged spires and teeth of upthrown earth, which crawled down the walls of the tear in the earth in a twisting zigzag. Down it went, in places so shallow it was nearly flat and even, in places so steep one had to slide down it without hope to try and simply walk down. But its downward course was ever steady and consistent, and the Gorons were satisfied that it would lead them where they wished to go.
With their assurance, Wesker had little choice but to follow after them, descending into the maw of the earth.