Assault on Darkshire [Staging]

[Hiro Protagonist]

It had started raining, cold wet droplets that stung when they landed on bare skin like tiny icicles. The noise and the furor of soldiers prepping for battle, and the constant backslaps of encouragement from the rank and file militiamen he was stationed with had finally knocked the worst of the inebriation from his head. He was ready. Okor was stationed somewhere else along the battlefield, Kelly in another place. He wasn't aware of the other Primes assisting in the defense, but he was told to expect reinforcement should his battalion fall back. The hacker's muscles were loose and supple, his reflexes keen and ready. He was in the state of no-mind, his head empty like a mirror, ready to reflect anything that came at him and then empty itself once more. The warrior of the Metaverse unleashed, with no fetters, no compunctions about right and wrong or the temptation to slip into ignominious slaughter. They were facing an existential threat like no other, legions of the screaming dead and other ghouls from fables marching on the town of Darkshire. Looking down at his kit, he prepared himself for battle.

Hiro Protagonist, the Digital Daimyo, was dressed in his signature outfit. A long blue and black kimono jacket, made of a hydrophobic material that sent raindrops spraying all around him whenever he moved. A spandex workout shirt underneath that, wth black jeans adorning his legs. Black leather riding boots were on his feet, with two gray anitgrav disks strapped to the outside of those. His belt kept the pants up, holding a compartment with extra databoard for his wristcomp. The lessons of Dante's Abyss were responsible for the awkward bulge nar his groin, a molded athletic cup to protect his fellows from unscrupulous combatants. On his hands, arachnoweave gloves that interfaced with the virtual HUD overlaid over his vision by his prize goggles. Those same goggles covered his brow and pushed his dreadlocks up, making him look spiky haired as they flickered to bright blue life, the hacker waving his hands in the air in front of him. On his left wrist was the rectangular mini-computer, no more than 7 inches long, with waterproof rubber buttons and screen. 

He was armed with his katana, a long blade made of volcanic glass and transparent aluminum for structure. It was sheathed inside a titanium vibroweave scabbard outfitted with a microforge for quickly repairing nicks and breaks, and if needed, reforging the blade in astounding time. It was on his left hip. Under his right arm, in a shoulder holster hidden under his coat was the Eldar Shuriken Pistol Okor had given him, ready to be drawn quickly and snap fired, unleashing a torrent of micro flechettes that would cut through rotten tissue and fatty sinews like butter. On his back, behind each of his shoulders were the simple tanto he'd claimed as reward from his first kill in the Omniverse, a big fat enforcer for a Coruscant smuggler. He was ready for this. The fight with the Sage had made him ready for this by waking him up.

Hiro was stationed with the main force, close to the wall but not so close as to be pressed against them. They had reinforcements and room to maneuver, so that if the hammer of the undead came too swiftly they would not be crushed against the walls they had sworn to defend. Then, a loud authoritative voice from the battlements. The Spartan Atelos stood high on the wall, dressed for war in helmet and cape. The soldiers on the ground half turned to face him as he spoke.

"Soldiers of Darkshire! Today, the enemy is at our doorstep! We have beaten them back before, and Darkshire still stands. Diablo's army marched through the Moors, burning all in their path. Darkshire still stands! Dracula's forces assault us, time and time again. Darkshire still stands!" The Spartan lowered his voice, still enough to be heard. "Today some will die. Some will be injured. It will be a hard battle. The forces we face are larger than any we have weathered before without the help of the kingdom. But we have trained for this! We have LIVED this life! The enemy shall fall upon our walls and break on our might! And come tomorrow, when the undead forces run skittering back to their lairs of dark to hide and spit and curse? DARKSHIRE STILL STAAAAAAANDS!!!"

A roar went up from the massed army, and Hiro found himself lending his voice to the raucous battle cry. Goddamn, that man was inspiring.

BBWWWWOOOOOOOUUUUUUMMMMMM

BBWWWOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUMMMM

BBWWOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUMMMMM

The army turned as one as the warning horn sounded. From the trees and paths, the army of Dracula appeared, shrieking, baying, and moaning for blood and meat.

Atelos hefted his spear and roared. "THEY ARE UPON US! DEATH AND GLORY, WE ARE THE LAST BASTION!"

It had begun.