09-13-2016, 08:38 PM
The four travelers looked haggard, hell they were haggard. It was only hours since their collective bouts and they were still reeling from the conflict. Kuzuru, despite having a hole punched between his lower ribs, was faring the best of the four. Hell, he seemed to almost enjoy the pain that the bullet hole brought him. Charles, having lost his coat in the scuffle, trundled along. He hadn’t eaten in a long time and his considerable bulk meant that he had to eat twice as much to feel full. The other bounty hunter, Mallory, kept to himself, occasionally tapping away at his phone. Ribbons of synthetic flesh clung to the metal frames of his cybernetic arms; he had ripped away most of the excess skin, but some of it remained like strips of meat stretched over a pole. Cinder Salt, the female coyotle, was in the worst shape. Her body was covered in slash wounds and she had lost a considerable amount of blood. Every now and again the group had to stop to allow her to catch her breath and rest. It was slow going, but the four did not complain. Hell even if they did complain, no one would really care.
Finally breaking the silence Mallory asked Kuzuru, “hey chief, where are we heading? S’gonna be night time soon, we really should be thinking-”
“We’re almost there,” Kuzuru interrupted.
Charlie grunted and chimed in, “where might there be, oh mighty leader?”
“Ah, I’ll ignore the sarcasm,” the demon said, wagging his finger in the air, “if we’re to be a proper band of mercs we need a hideout, somewhere remote and hidden.”
“In the mountains,” Cinder Salt managed to say.
Black and scarred with bright orange lava streams the mountains of the Ashen Steppes were treacherous indeed. They came to the base of several of these towering leviathans. It was here that they paused for a rest. Kuzuru chose this particular set of mountains for two reasons. Firstly they were secluded, and about as far away from the main gate one could get. Second they looked absolutely badass, like a proper lair should. There was no easy way to climb the craggy beasts, and between the lava flows and potential rockslides it made for dangerous ground. A quiet rumbling could be heard from within the mountains, a sign of violent geological activity.
Kuzuru clapped his hands together and approached the steep incline. This place would make the perfect beginnings of a base. The familiar rainbow glow of omnilium emanated from his palms and he held a sizeable orb of the stuff. He would have much rather used it upon himself, but he figured that the base was an investment. Pay a little bit now to reap the benefits later. Besides, now that he was no longer a member of Ambrosia he needed a place to crash and what better place that the prime real estate in the Steppes? The earth rumbled in resonance as he began shaping their hideout.
First he forged the stairway, and it climbed high up the mountainside snaking back and forth. From a distance it would be difficult to discern the difference between a man-made walkway and a naturally occurring path. At the path’s apex a small door was carved into the stone, and on it the symbol that Kuzuru intended to use as their callsign was imprinted. He was running low on omnilium and set to work shaping the inside of their hideout. Moving the earth and chewing through stone was more expensive than he imagined. In the end he only managed to create a fraction of what he wished. A large atrium served as both a common area and a recreational area. Several smaller rooms served as living quarters, a simple bed and nightstand made an appearance in each one. A kitchen was made, as was a lavatory. Finally he created a generator room underneath it all. Two large geothermal generators churned as they harvested the heat deep within the earth; they generated more than enough electricity to power the whole institution.
“Welcome to your new home boys and girls,” Kuzuru said, beads of sweat pouring from his brow.
“A hidden mountainside base, real original chief,” Mallory responded and began to ascend the stairs.
They stayed silent as they trundled up the staircase and into their new headquarters. A low rumbling noise groaned from the door as it slid open, powered by an unseen contraption. Each member of the group went their separate ways once inside. Charlie puffed his cigar and watched television, while Mallory sat at a nearby table and tinkered with his damaged arms. Cinder Salt used the bathroom to wash the blood from her fur and tend to her still bleeding wounds. Kuzuru retired to his room and laid down in his bed. He surfed the dataverse with Renji’s phone and began to ingest as much information as he could stand to stomach. Overall the band of misfits were tired, injured, and very much ready to rest.
Finally breaking the silence Mallory asked Kuzuru, “hey chief, where are we heading? S’gonna be night time soon, we really should be thinking-”
“We’re almost there,” Kuzuru interrupted.
Charlie grunted and chimed in, “where might there be, oh mighty leader?”
“Ah, I’ll ignore the sarcasm,” the demon said, wagging his finger in the air, “if we’re to be a proper band of mercs we need a hideout, somewhere remote and hidden.”
“In the mountains,” Cinder Salt managed to say.
Black and scarred with bright orange lava streams the mountains of the Ashen Steppes were treacherous indeed. They came to the base of several of these towering leviathans. It was here that they paused for a rest. Kuzuru chose this particular set of mountains for two reasons. Firstly they were secluded, and about as far away from the main gate one could get. Second they looked absolutely badass, like a proper lair should. There was no easy way to climb the craggy beasts, and between the lava flows and potential rockslides it made for dangerous ground. A quiet rumbling could be heard from within the mountains, a sign of violent geological activity.
Kuzuru clapped his hands together and approached the steep incline. This place would make the perfect beginnings of a base. The familiar rainbow glow of omnilium emanated from his palms and he held a sizeable orb of the stuff. He would have much rather used it upon himself, but he figured that the base was an investment. Pay a little bit now to reap the benefits later. Besides, now that he was no longer a member of Ambrosia he needed a place to crash and what better place that the prime real estate in the Steppes? The earth rumbled in resonance as he began shaping their hideout.
First he forged the stairway, and it climbed high up the mountainside snaking back and forth. From a distance it would be difficult to discern the difference between a man-made walkway and a naturally occurring path. At the path’s apex a small door was carved into the stone, and on it the symbol that Kuzuru intended to use as their callsign was imprinted. He was running low on omnilium and set to work shaping the inside of their hideout. Moving the earth and chewing through stone was more expensive than he imagined. In the end he only managed to create a fraction of what he wished. A large atrium served as both a common area and a recreational area. Several smaller rooms served as living quarters, a simple bed and nightstand made an appearance in each one. A kitchen was made, as was a lavatory. Finally he created a generator room underneath it all. Two large geothermal generators churned as they harvested the heat deep within the earth; they generated more than enough electricity to power the whole institution.
“Welcome to your new home boys and girls,” Kuzuru said, beads of sweat pouring from his brow.
“A hidden mountainside base, real original chief,” Mallory responded and began to ascend the stairs.
They stayed silent as they trundled up the staircase and into their new headquarters. A low rumbling noise groaned from the door as it slid open, powered by an unseen contraption. Each member of the group went their separate ways once inside. Charlie puffed his cigar and watched television, while Mallory sat at a nearby table and tinkered with his damaged arms. Cinder Salt used the bathroom to wash the blood from her fur and tend to her still bleeding wounds. Kuzuru retired to his room and laid down in his bed. He surfed the dataverse with Renji’s phone and began to ingest as much information as he could stand to stomach. Overall the band of misfits were tired, injured, and very much ready to rest.