07-30-2017, 06:34 PM
In the dark, gloomy burial chamber in a corrupted pyramid somewhere in the middle of the Endless Dunes, a tear in space itself wavered and flickered. It spat sparks and bolts of energy, great erupting belches and coughs of a world giving its last heave on the other side. A plume of dust rocketed through, flashes of light and a storm of violet energy cascading over everything. Massive grooves and fissures were torn in the heavy, dusty rock of the chamber as the already unstable portal grew even more unstable, pitching and whirling crazily.
With a noise like thunder, it belched forth a humanoid form -- or, rather, one form followed closely by another. The weather-controlling monster came staggering out of the portal, among a huge cloud of dust and dissipating pocket dimension. Face met dusty ground as his balance shifted, gone from a disintegrating world where gravity was a suggestion rather than a law back to firm, logical reality, such as it was in the omniverse. Only mere moments behind him came the comparatively diminutive form of the monkey chieftain, the exhausted kid flopping and flipping forward to come to a rest sitting, staring back at the portal with a dazed look in his eyes.
The portal flickered and wavered, shrinking and sputtering. The steady image of what was left of the labyrinth that was Nebula's stronghold grew hazy, distorting and shimmering through the collapsing portal, like the screen of an old television, the image failing and half-covered in static and snow. Even through that, the haggard form of Jim Raynor materialized into clarity, half-running and half-limping after his rough and tumble escape from the last ditch effort of the dusted gunslinger. Every bit as tenacious as the pocket dimension he was trying to keep the three liberators from escaping, but he'd finally been bested, leaving only a race against the clock for the terran marine to beat for his escape.
Great, thick plumes of dust and small pebbles and shards of blasted sandstone belched through the portal, the entire burial chamber bathed in violet, rendering it all but impossible to see. Overhead, the old stone of the pyramid groaned in protest, cracks splintering through it. Jim came stumbling through the remains of the portal in a run, slapping the storm spirit and the monkey boy to get them up. "Come on, go! Go!" The urgency of both his voice and his movement was enough to get them all up and moving, exhausted as they were. One last dash, up the crumbling hallway of the pyramid. The doors had been opened, or fallen away at the stresses being emitted from the portal, and it was a clear shot back out into the light of the harsh, desert sun.
The three were ejected from the structure, down the last few meters of the corridor like shot from a gun. They tumbled head over heels through the air, coming down with a rough impact among the sands. All around them, the darklings of Nebula's forces that were left were writhing among the sands, flickering and sputtering like dying candles. Some of them, either too loyal or too stubborn (or too mentally gone) to give up, groped and struggled for weapons, trying to continue the fight. Some desperately clawed along, trying to drag themselves away, get to safety that wasn't there. They were all dying, as the source of their power bled away to nothing.
But over all the chaos and noise, there came a sound that chilled the three liberators to their core. Rising over the sound of tumbling, falling and shattering stone, through the clouds of dust and shards of rubble belching out of that hallway, there came something else. High-pitched, ringing like a bell. A demented, mad cackling. And after it, came the sound of...hoofbeats. Exploding out of the corridor, just as the entire structure of the ancient pyramid came tumbling down, and all but riding on the shockwave among a billowing wall of dust and sand, there came a massive, skeletal horse. Six legs, each one ending in an ironshod hoof, and a skull with eye sockets pulsing with the purple glow that Nebula's corruption gave off. Sat in the saddle, all four arms clutching the reins in a deathgrip, sat the gunslinger. Still missing a leg, now completely headless, even the sandstone brick it had used as a replacement gone. Where the horse had come from might never be known.
It thundered out, over the sands. The three liberators threw themselves aside, out of its path, as it cut a hasty retreat, fleeing at full gallop out into the desert. Hunched in the saddle, weakened and looking as if dying, the gunslinger nonetheless remained strong, held its grip on the reins and posture in the saddle. Vanishing among a cloud of sand and dust, it disappeared over a dune, vanishing into the scorching desert. A moment later, a whispery, weak laugh drifted back on the wind.
The gunslinger had escaped, but the liberators were alive.
With a noise like thunder, it belched forth a humanoid form -- or, rather, one form followed closely by another. The weather-controlling monster came staggering out of the portal, among a huge cloud of dust and dissipating pocket dimension. Face met dusty ground as his balance shifted, gone from a disintegrating world where gravity was a suggestion rather than a law back to firm, logical reality, such as it was in the omniverse. Only mere moments behind him came the comparatively diminutive form of the monkey chieftain, the exhausted kid flopping and flipping forward to come to a rest sitting, staring back at the portal with a dazed look in his eyes.
The portal flickered and wavered, shrinking and sputtering. The steady image of what was left of the labyrinth that was Nebula's stronghold grew hazy, distorting and shimmering through the collapsing portal, like the screen of an old television, the image failing and half-covered in static and snow. Even through that, the haggard form of Jim Raynor materialized into clarity, half-running and half-limping after his rough and tumble escape from the last ditch effort of the dusted gunslinger. Every bit as tenacious as the pocket dimension he was trying to keep the three liberators from escaping, but he'd finally been bested, leaving only a race against the clock for the terran marine to beat for his escape.
Great, thick plumes of dust and small pebbles and shards of blasted sandstone belched through the portal, the entire burial chamber bathed in violet, rendering it all but impossible to see. Overhead, the old stone of the pyramid groaned in protest, cracks splintering through it. Jim came stumbling through the remains of the portal in a run, slapping the storm spirit and the monkey boy to get them up. "Come on, go! Go!" The urgency of both his voice and his movement was enough to get them all up and moving, exhausted as they were. One last dash, up the crumbling hallway of the pyramid. The doors had been opened, or fallen away at the stresses being emitted from the portal, and it was a clear shot back out into the light of the harsh, desert sun.
The three were ejected from the structure, down the last few meters of the corridor like shot from a gun. They tumbled head over heels through the air, coming down with a rough impact among the sands. All around them, the darklings of Nebula's forces that were left were writhing among the sands, flickering and sputtering like dying candles. Some of them, either too loyal or too stubborn (or too mentally gone) to give up, groped and struggled for weapons, trying to continue the fight. Some desperately clawed along, trying to drag themselves away, get to safety that wasn't there. They were all dying, as the source of their power bled away to nothing.
But over all the chaos and noise, there came a sound that chilled the three liberators to their core. Rising over the sound of tumbling, falling and shattering stone, through the clouds of dust and shards of rubble belching out of that hallway, there came something else. High-pitched, ringing like a bell. A demented, mad cackling. And after it, came the sound of...hoofbeats. Exploding out of the corridor, just as the entire structure of the ancient pyramid came tumbling down, and all but riding on the shockwave among a billowing wall of dust and sand, there came a massive, skeletal horse. Six legs, each one ending in an ironshod hoof, and a skull with eye sockets pulsing with the purple glow that Nebula's corruption gave off. Sat in the saddle, all four arms clutching the reins in a deathgrip, sat the gunslinger. Still missing a leg, now completely headless, even the sandstone brick it had used as a replacement gone. Where the horse had come from might never be known.
It thundered out, over the sands. The three liberators threw themselves aside, out of its path, as it cut a hasty retreat, fleeing at full gallop out into the desert. Hunched in the saddle, weakened and looking as if dying, the gunslinger nonetheless remained strong, held its grip on the reins and posture in the saddle. Vanishing among a cloud of sand and dust, it disappeared over a dune, vanishing into the scorching desert. A moment later, a whispery, weak laugh drifted back on the wind.
The gunslinger had escaped, but the liberators were alive.
Quote:Endless Dunes: COMPLETE! You have liberated this verse and freed it from Nebula's control.
You are free to do as you please. If you intend to continue with this, you can join one of the other verses already in progress. If you're all done, let me know and I'll get to administering your rewards.
Thanks for participating!