das
Regeneration In Process
As inspired by Archimedes, sort of.
SteamNES
- Thread starter Lord_Iggy
- Start date
It's been great having you in this NES e350tb. I can only hope that you come back soon!
The Hall of the Gifted will indeed be updated (later today). I left both Leonardo and Williams in situations where they could survive, if their storywriters wanted them to. It's up to Nuclear Kid to decide what happens.
Fuschia
A Little Odd
Jeremy's new leg was not quite the improvement he had thought it would be. After the crash, he had lain in bed a long time, recovering; then he had gone to see one of Al-Shamdli's other sparks, the Kalim. He never reached his destination, being caught quickly by his doctors, who noticed him missing.
Thankfully, Rodia was capable of finding a few of the thieves that had been modified by the Kalim. Jeremy examined them, sometimes very painfully; he removed one of the mechanical hands to see exactly what it was that connected them to the body and allowed them to function as the mind commanded. They had screamed, but it was all for the good in the end.
Soon afterwards, Jeremy, still in great pain from his crippled leg, although the doctors assured him it was in perfect health beyond the deformity, instructed Rodia in the building of a mechanical leg along the same idea as the hands constructed by the Kalim. He had ordered his doctors to remove his leg and to replace it, from about the knee down, with the new one.
The operation had been a success, as Jeremy knew it would be. The leg allowed him to walk, although not much more steadily than he had before; most importantly of all, however, was the disappearance of the pain, which seemed to plague him now occasionally.
Since the operation, Jeremy had worked on improving his new leg, and he could now walk with almost equal success as a whole person; this was not how he used most of his time, though. He had heard word from far-off Anglia of very large and destructive airships that used the crude lighter-than-air technology that those people seemed to adore so; Jeremy had purchased a picture of one of them and marveled at the size and, at the same time, the crudeness of the design.
Because of this picture, Jeremy's plans had become more ambitious. He would build a ship to rival these airships, using hundreds of Circles to propel itself through the air; the excess power of these Circles would be fed to dozens of turrets capable of raining destruction in every direction!
To the day his plans had amounted to little. He had built an ovoid, solid steel shell with reinforced glass at the front; the floors, sleeping quarters, and such were all finished; it would be able to hold slightly more than 100 men and feed them for weeks. What the new ship lacked was any measure of steam power, as he had not had the time nor the energy to produce so many Circles.
The Circles themselves were to ring around almost every side of the ship, with moving space which would, theoretically, allow the ship to rise, hover, and move in any direction and many different amounts of speed. The hull towards the front of the ship were filled with holes that would, eventually, be filled with turrets, each nearly the size of a Cirrus; there were 32 in total, four rows and eight columns, capable of pointing in any direction. They were all clustered towards the front as well, so as to facilitate a proper directional offense.
After this one was finished, he would build another, larger and more powerful. And then he would continue until he had one capable of complete self-sufficiency; for this was his new dream: a floating city, one capable of living off farms within itself and completely impervious to all outside interference. Here is where he would change the world, up among the clouds...
Thankfully, Rodia was capable of finding a few of the thieves that had been modified by the Kalim. Jeremy examined them, sometimes very painfully; he removed one of the mechanical hands to see exactly what it was that connected them to the body and allowed them to function as the mind commanded. They had screamed, but it was all for the good in the end.
Soon afterwards, Jeremy, still in great pain from his crippled leg, although the doctors assured him it was in perfect health beyond the deformity, instructed Rodia in the building of a mechanical leg along the same idea as the hands constructed by the Kalim. He had ordered his doctors to remove his leg and to replace it, from about the knee down, with the new one.
The operation had been a success, as Jeremy knew it would be. The leg allowed him to walk, although not much more steadily than he had before; most importantly of all, however, was the disappearance of the pain, which seemed to plague him now occasionally.
Since the operation, Jeremy had worked on improving his new leg, and he could now walk with almost equal success as a whole person; this was not how he used most of his time, though. He had heard word from far-off Anglia of very large and destructive airships that used the crude lighter-than-air technology that those people seemed to adore so; Jeremy had purchased a picture of one of them and marveled at the size and, at the same time, the crudeness of the design.
Because of this picture, Jeremy's plans had become more ambitious. He would build a ship to rival these airships, using hundreds of Circles to propel itself through the air; the excess power of these Circles would be fed to dozens of turrets capable of raining destruction in every direction!
To the day his plans had amounted to little. He had built an ovoid, solid steel shell with reinforced glass at the front; the floors, sleeping quarters, and such were all finished; it would be able to hold slightly more than 100 men and feed them for weeks. What the new ship lacked was any measure of steam power, as he had not had the time nor the energy to produce so many Circles.
The Circles themselves were to ring around almost every side of the ship, with moving space which would, theoretically, allow the ship to rise, hover, and move in any direction and many different amounts of speed. The hull towards the front of the ship were filled with holes that would, eventually, be filled with turrets, each nearly the size of a Cirrus; there were 32 in total, four rows and eight columns, capable of pointing in any direction. They were all clustered towards the front as well, so as to facilitate a proper directional offense.
After this one was finished, he would build another, larger and more powerful. And then he would continue until he had one capable of complete self-sufficiency; for this was his new dream: a floating city, one capable of living off farms within itself and completely impervious to all outside interference. Here is where he would change the world, up among the clouds...
TerrisH
Mischief?
OOC: weaker, slower, and with significantly less firepower, and yet you call crude. heh.
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
OOC: Jeremy's got automail. >_>
New story tonight... probably.
New story tonight... probably.
tuxedohamm
Disguised as crow.
OOC:
Just to help any, the two ships Kate lost will be the one Johnathan was piloting and then one of the larger ones. Johnathan was on the one that was shot since it was a smaller ship. I haven't decided if he survived or not, so treat it as really badly injured with an uncertain future. If you need to know any of this for your story.
Just to help any, the two ships Kate lost will be the one Johnathan was piloting and then one of the larger ones. Johnathan was on the one that was shot since it was a smaller ship. I haven't decided if he survived or not, so treat it as really badly injured with an uncertain future. If you need to know any of this for your story.
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
Fire-breathing, mechanical penguins are wholly acceptable, however.
tuxedohamm
Disguised as crow.
Well, it would look quite impressive that very first use...
The idea of the NES is that you create your own character in a Steampunk setting, and write stories about that person's ongoing experiences. If you require me to come up with ideas for you, perhaps this story is not the best one for you to get involved in.
flyingchicken
Deity
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2007
- Messages
- 3,783
Ah wait: SS-Company implies a company, silly me! I will officially retract all my previous statements and accept the shame and continue writing stories in the name of glorious Nihojon. What was I thinking? Industrialized or no, it kicks serious ass.
Lord_Iggy, adjust the time frame if you will. This will have happened by the time Nihojon has access to a single Griffon airship, after modifying it a bit.
When All Else Fails, Show Some Bravado And Cut An Emperor's Head
It's all we can do, really
What is the greatest threat to a big nation whose military can barely keep up with its own dissenters? War, of course! Not just any war, no. A small civil war by some unpopular warlord is no worse than a particularly menacing bandit leader. War with some small, backwards nation—say, Bod—is going to be as big a threat as a particularly rabid mouse is to a decent housecat. No, war can only be threatening if there is some power to that punch, some oomph! in that offensive. To that end, the attacking nation ought to have some advantage, some leverage, some edge over its prey...
Jumping off that, let us look at the Nihojonese attack on Singuo in the September of the third year of the "Spark calendar" (surely, calendars changed for the events that change the world, and who else have made a greater impact to the workings of Earth but the Sparks!). Nihojon was not exactly a powerful nation, only having begun the first big steps towards industrialization and modernization; very big steps they were indeed, for they caused much blood and tears to be shed by the Nihojonese people. Nihojon had a small army, only a fourth or a third the size of Singuo's. A modern and fearsome army the Nihojonese did have, yes, but quantity—as Singuo did possess—had a way of sorting out differences in quality. At this point it seems as though Nihojon had no business invading Singuo, for it had no advantage, no leverage, no edge over its neighbor. But to conclude so is to overlook one very vital factor in the story of Nihojon's rise.
Dr. Akira Light was one of those men you could call "messianic." No, he was no prophesied savior, nor did he hold a great spiritual following (but he was close!), but he was "messianic" in other respects. He changed an entire nation from the ground up, directly bringing about the rapid modernization of Nihojon through his influence in the highest position of government. Aside from being a prominent political figure, he is also a businessman and an inventor. Yes, he was an inventor—in fact, some could say that it was because of him that the modernization project did not encounter much resistance, for it was by the virtue of his deadly machines of war that the reactionary forces to the modernization movement were crushed mercilessly and systematically. Not only that, but he also brought about a sort of agricultural revolution: The farmers of Nihojon no longer tended to their fields by their hands alone, now yielding more with the great steam machines provided to them by Dr. Akira Light.
So, what does this messianic figure have anything to do with the perceived edge of Nihojon over Singuo (at least in the eyes of the Nihojonese war planners)? The already-mentioned machines of war, of course! Dr. Akira Light had provided them with some of the most frightening (if none too deadly) battlefield mechanisms of the age, from the reputably invulnerable steam armor battlesuits to the imposing steam walker. Those who used these deadly forces did so with such a harshness and bloodiness that, at the sight of them, enemies are almost certain to quiver of fear. Even without prior news of their extreme force, the sight of fifteen-foot tall metal monster was not what a soldier's hopes make!
Of course, it was not all Dr. Akira Light's doing that led to that perceived edge in the Spetember of 3 (or 1687, whichever the reader is more comfortable with). Cid Hibiki, a Medlander merchant and Spark of Nihojonese descent, lent a big hand by selling a "Griffon" airship to the Nihojonese government. It was the only battle-ready airship that the Nihojonese had, but it was enough to initiate the bloodiest opening move made in the history of warfare.
It was the morning of September 4, 1687, a date chosen for its symbolic significance (for the number 4 was the number of death in the Far Eastern psyche). The Nihojonese army liked to attack not only with guns and giant war-robots but with psychological weapons as well. Dr. Akira Light had just finished applying the final modifications to the NSAF Warhawk, and the Griffon airship was filled with the most daring men in all of Nihojon—no, not just, for they were surely the most daring men in the entire world!—armed with the latest Steam Armor technology. It was the day to enact Operation First Strike, an all-too daring plan by the Nihojonese Standard Army war planners, and everyone, especially these daring and possibly suicidal men, was getting ready for its fluid execution.
"You will be flying there as men," the general who was in charge of giving the Steam Armor-clad men (SS-Troopers they were popularly and formally called) a pep talk was saying. He had the grimmest of expressions, in contrast with the overtly enthusiastic air about the thirty SS-Troopers. "But you will be returning to us humble mortals as gods. What you hope to accomplish is nothing short of impossible. Yet, we are confident that you will be able to pull this off without the slightest of problems, for the success of this war—well, more on the prestige of the nation—depends a great deal on your success in this mission." He looked at each of the SS-Troopers, and noticed they were all young and cheerful types. "Do not think of this as a game! If you all die, Nihojon will be shamed. You do not want the whole of Nihojon to commit seppuku, now, do you?"
"No, sir!" was the response in unison.
"Very well then," said the general, smiling. He took out a sword from its scabbard and presented it to the platoon leader, the SS-Captain for the mission. The latter accepted it with a bow, and an exchange of salutes between the SS-Troopers and the general marked the end of the briefing. "Off you go to your coronation as heroes and demigods, or off you go to your deaths. Make sure it is the former, for you are all dead men otherwise."
"Yes, sir!" the SS-Troopers replied in unison.
The SS-Troopers made their way into the NSAF Warhawk, uncertain of their fates but ever hopeful of their success. They were idealistic spirits. Idiots, some would call them, but the state-sponsored description would be "heroes." Indeed, within a few minutes they were up in the air, with a recently-trained Nihojonese pilot (for no sane pilot from Hibiki Airships even considered to take part in this mission which screamed "death wish" from its very conception) at the helm. The soldiers made uneasy talk once in the air, but mostly about their first time flying: Either none made their fear of failure evident, a fear made quite likely for they were closer to reality than ever before, or that they were so confident of their ultimate success. It was most likely the latter, for they were all indeed so very young and foolish.
As they sliced through the sky in their high-altitude airship, they saw little of the ground below. The modifications given to the Griffon airship allowed little sightseeing. The only way they could tell that they were ever nearing their destination was the constant screaming of the pilot.
"Oooh, beautiful lake!" he screamed in his annoyingly high-pitched voice on one occasion. He would continue, saying, "Ah, big towns! Houses! Trees! Houses! Road! Trees! Houses! More houses! Big towns! City! River! Lake! Trees! More Trees! Houses! More houses! Even more houses!" The pilot went on like that for the entire trip, to the slight annoyance of the SS-Troopers.
The trip was mostly uneventful until the pilot shouted, "We're at the VERY BIG HOUSE! The VERY BIG HOUSE! Ready yourselves, steam soldiers!" Whoever chose the codename "Very Big House" was really lacking in ideas, but it sufficed. At the uttering of those three words, the SS-Troopers had scrambled into position at the middle of the airship where the "repeating ballista" used to be before the modification.
Within moments, the soldiers felt themselves falling. It was a familiar feeling, being trained in the art of high jumping with their super-powered suits of armor, but they never felt it for this long or this fast. In fact, they felt that it was too fast. Some feared that there was a sort of malfunction, that the ship was falling as an accident and not part of the plan. Fear crept into the SS-Troopers like it has never crept before, and the screaming of the pilot did not do much to calm them.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" the pilot was screaming at the top of his lungs, at the highest pitch he could must. And a very high pitch that was.
"Is there something wrong?" asked the SS-Captain, shouting over the sound of air whipping against the ship and the high-pitched screaming of the pilot.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" The pilot did not seem to hear him.
"Is there something wrong?" the SS-Captain repeated, louder and with much more distress than before.
"AAAAAAAAAA—Oh?" the pilot said. He didn't sound distressed, despite his screaming.
"Is there something wrong?!"
"Oh, no, I was just getting into the feel of the ride. It's quite a peaceful fall, really, save for the fact that the wind's blowing us down a little too hard. Speaking of the fall, you better get ready to jump—"
As the pilot spoke, the familiar sound of gunfire filled the air. The sound of shot hitting the bottom of the ship alarmed the SS-Troopers, but they readied the ship just for this. Shot fired upwards made little damage to a ship plated in steel.
"—as I was saying, ready to jump! I will be in high-altitude until you signal the palace to be clear, alright?" finished the pilot, not quite as scared as he should have been from the guns firing. But then again, he was a bit crazy. The SS-Captain nodded, and signaled for his companions to make "the jump."
From the Imperial Palace of Singuo (OOC: Which, I presume, looks a lot like the Forbidden Palace, with a hollow area in the middle), the Singuonese guards saw a large airship making rapid descent into the Palace grounds. It was not quite going to land, for it suddenly stopped in mid-fall by some mechanism unknown to the grounded observers. In any case, they saw the bottom the ship open. It looked as though the ship was going to bomb—a foreign concept only found in rumor in Singuo, a remote possibility and excluded from all the plans of the Singuonese generals, but what else could the thing have been doing?—the middle of the Palace. Whatever end that might have achieved eluded the observers, but they soon found their assumptions to be spot-on wrong. Instead of bombs, in whatever form the Singuonese observers might have imagined them to be, they saw the heard-of-but-never-seen Steam Armor-clad soldiers of Nihojon jumping down into Palace grounds. Their falls were softened by thick ropes, and they were only fazed by their descent for only a short time. Soon, the SS-Troopers made their way towards killing everyone within the Singuonese Imperial Palace: If they were not going to catch the emperor of the Singuonese, they would at least burn the palace to the ground.
Elsewhere, over a hundred thousand Nihojonese soldiers surged forth into Singuo, backed by the great steam weaponry developed by Dr. Akira Light. Poor, slant-eyed souls.
_______________
*Note: The SS-Troopers in the Imperial Palace would set a smoke signal for the NSAF Warhawk to fetch them: The pilot will be watching the ruckus from above, going to descend only when he sees the smoke signal.
*Note: The bulk of the Singuonese armies should be at the Singuo-Nihojonese border, after the visible military parading done by the Nihojonese. The Palace should be minimally guarded, and mostly by ceremonial guys practicing with swords and spears.
*Note: NSAF = Nihojonese Standard Air Force
*Note: Sorry if I can't maintain a consistent storytelling tone and if this feels a tad rushed, because I can't and it is.
_______________
Completely unrelated with anything but the nationality of Jeremy Sieko (and possibly others, but I was hit by this stroke of funny when I was going through character profiles and re-read his): [wiki]Durian[/wiki].
Lord_Iggy, adjust the time frame if you will. This will have happened by the time Nihojon has access to a single Griffon airship, after modifying it a bit.
When All Else Fails, Show Some Bravado And Cut An Emperor's Head
It's all we can do, really
What is the greatest threat to a big nation whose military can barely keep up with its own dissenters? War, of course! Not just any war, no. A small civil war by some unpopular warlord is no worse than a particularly menacing bandit leader. War with some small, backwards nation—say, Bod—is going to be as big a threat as a particularly rabid mouse is to a decent housecat. No, war can only be threatening if there is some power to that punch, some oomph! in that offensive. To that end, the attacking nation ought to have some advantage, some leverage, some edge over its prey...
Jumping off that, let us look at the Nihojonese attack on Singuo in the September of the third year of the "Spark calendar" (surely, calendars changed for the events that change the world, and who else have made a greater impact to the workings of Earth but the Sparks!). Nihojon was not exactly a powerful nation, only having begun the first big steps towards industrialization and modernization; very big steps they were indeed, for they caused much blood and tears to be shed by the Nihojonese people. Nihojon had a small army, only a fourth or a third the size of Singuo's. A modern and fearsome army the Nihojonese did have, yes, but quantity—as Singuo did possess—had a way of sorting out differences in quality. At this point it seems as though Nihojon had no business invading Singuo, for it had no advantage, no leverage, no edge over its neighbor. But to conclude so is to overlook one very vital factor in the story of Nihojon's rise.
Dr. Akira Light was one of those men you could call "messianic." No, he was no prophesied savior, nor did he hold a great spiritual following (but he was close!), but he was "messianic" in other respects. He changed an entire nation from the ground up, directly bringing about the rapid modernization of Nihojon through his influence in the highest position of government. Aside from being a prominent political figure, he is also a businessman and an inventor. Yes, he was an inventor—in fact, some could say that it was because of him that the modernization project did not encounter much resistance, for it was by the virtue of his deadly machines of war that the reactionary forces to the modernization movement were crushed mercilessly and systematically. Not only that, but he also brought about a sort of agricultural revolution: The farmers of Nihojon no longer tended to their fields by their hands alone, now yielding more with the great steam machines provided to them by Dr. Akira Light.
So, what does this messianic figure have anything to do with the perceived edge of Nihojon over Singuo (at least in the eyes of the Nihojonese war planners)? The already-mentioned machines of war, of course! Dr. Akira Light had provided them with some of the most frightening (if none too deadly) battlefield mechanisms of the age, from the reputably invulnerable steam armor battlesuits to the imposing steam walker. Those who used these deadly forces did so with such a harshness and bloodiness that, at the sight of them, enemies are almost certain to quiver of fear. Even without prior news of their extreme force, the sight of fifteen-foot tall metal monster was not what a soldier's hopes make!
Of course, it was not all Dr. Akira Light's doing that led to that perceived edge in the Spetember of 3 (or 1687, whichever the reader is more comfortable with). Cid Hibiki, a Medlander merchant and Spark of Nihojonese descent, lent a big hand by selling a "Griffon" airship to the Nihojonese government. It was the only battle-ready airship that the Nihojonese had, but it was enough to initiate the bloodiest opening move made in the history of warfare.
It was the morning of September 4, 1687, a date chosen for its symbolic significance (for the number 4 was the number of death in the Far Eastern psyche). The Nihojonese army liked to attack not only with guns and giant war-robots but with psychological weapons as well. Dr. Akira Light had just finished applying the final modifications to the NSAF Warhawk, and the Griffon airship was filled with the most daring men in all of Nihojon—no, not just, for they were surely the most daring men in the entire world!—armed with the latest Steam Armor technology. It was the day to enact Operation First Strike, an all-too daring plan by the Nihojonese Standard Army war planners, and everyone, especially these daring and possibly suicidal men, was getting ready for its fluid execution.
"You will be flying there as men," the general who was in charge of giving the Steam Armor-clad men (SS-Troopers they were popularly and formally called) a pep talk was saying. He had the grimmest of expressions, in contrast with the overtly enthusiastic air about the thirty SS-Troopers. "But you will be returning to us humble mortals as gods. What you hope to accomplish is nothing short of impossible. Yet, we are confident that you will be able to pull this off without the slightest of problems, for the success of this war—well, more on the prestige of the nation—depends a great deal on your success in this mission." He looked at each of the SS-Troopers, and noticed they were all young and cheerful types. "Do not think of this as a game! If you all die, Nihojon will be shamed. You do not want the whole of Nihojon to commit seppuku, now, do you?"
"No, sir!" was the response in unison.
"Very well then," said the general, smiling. He took out a sword from its scabbard and presented it to the platoon leader, the SS-Captain for the mission. The latter accepted it with a bow, and an exchange of salutes between the SS-Troopers and the general marked the end of the briefing. "Off you go to your coronation as heroes and demigods, or off you go to your deaths. Make sure it is the former, for you are all dead men otherwise."
"Yes, sir!" the SS-Troopers replied in unison.
The SS-Troopers made their way into the NSAF Warhawk, uncertain of their fates but ever hopeful of their success. They were idealistic spirits. Idiots, some would call them, but the state-sponsored description would be "heroes." Indeed, within a few minutes they were up in the air, with a recently-trained Nihojonese pilot (for no sane pilot from Hibiki Airships even considered to take part in this mission which screamed "death wish" from its very conception) at the helm. The soldiers made uneasy talk once in the air, but mostly about their first time flying: Either none made their fear of failure evident, a fear made quite likely for they were closer to reality than ever before, or that they were so confident of their ultimate success. It was most likely the latter, for they were all indeed so very young and foolish.
As they sliced through the sky in their high-altitude airship, they saw little of the ground below. The modifications given to the Griffon airship allowed little sightseeing. The only way they could tell that they were ever nearing their destination was the constant screaming of the pilot.
"Oooh, beautiful lake!" he screamed in his annoyingly high-pitched voice on one occasion. He would continue, saying, "Ah, big towns! Houses! Trees! Houses! Road! Trees! Houses! More houses! Big towns! City! River! Lake! Trees! More Trees! Houses! More houses! Even more houses!" The pilot went on like that for the entire trip, to the slight annoyance of the SS-Troopers.
The trip was mostly uneventful until the pilot shouted, "We're at the VERY BIG HOUSE! The VERY BIG HOUSE! Ready yourselves, steam soldiers!" Whoever chose the codename "Very Big House" was really lacking in ideas, but it sufficed. At the uttering of those three words, the SS-Troopers had scrambled into position at the middle of the airship where the "repeating ballista" used to be before the modification.
Within moments, the soldiers felt themselves falling. It was a familiar feeling, being trained in the art of high jumping with their super-powered suits of armor, but they never felt it for this long or this fast. In fact, they felt that it was too fast. Some feared that there was a sort of malfunction, that the ship was falling as an accident and not part of the plan. Fear crept into the SS-Troopers like it has never crept before, and the screaming of the pilot did not do much to calm them.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" the pilot was screaming at the top of his lungs, at the highest pitch he could must. And a very high pitch that was.
"Is there something wrong?" asked the SS-Captain, shouting over the sound of air whipping against the ship and the high-pitched screaming of the pilot.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" The pilot did not seem to hear him.
"Is there something wrong?" the SS-Captain repeated, louder and with much more distress than before.
"AAAAAAAAAA—Oh?" the pilot said. He didn't sound distressed, despite his screaming.
"Is there something wrong?!"
"Oh, no, I was just getting into the feel of the ride. It's quite a peaceful fall, really, save for the fact that the wind's blowing us down a little too hard. Speaking of the fall, you better get ready to jump—"
As the pilot spoke, the familiar sound of gunfire filled the air. The sound of shot hitting the bottom of the ship alarmed the SS-Troopers, but they readied the ship just for this. Shot fired upwards made little damage to a ship plated in steel.
"—as I was saying, ready to jump! I will be in high-altitude until you signal the palace to be clear, alright?" finished the pilot, not quite as scared as he should have been from the guns firing. But then again, he was a bit crazy. The SS-Captain nodded, and signaled for his companions to make "the jump."
From the Imperial Palace of Singuo (OOC: Which, I presume, looks a lot like the Forbidden Palace, with a hollow area in the middle), the Singuonese guards saw a large airship making rapid descent into the Palace grounds. It was not quite going to land, for it suddenly stopped in mid-fall by some mechanism unknown to the grounded observers. In any case, they saw the bottom the ship open. It looked as though the ship was going to bomb—a foreign concept only found in rumor in Singuo, a remote possibility and excluded from all the plans of the Singuonese generals, but what else could the thing have been doing?—the middle of the Palace. Whatever end that might have achieved eluded the observers, but they soon found their assumptions to be spot-on wrong. Instead of bombs, in whatever form the Singuonese observers might have imagined them to be, they saw the heard-of-but-never-seen Steam Armor-clad soldiers of Nihojon jumping down into Palace grounds. Their falls were softened by thick ropes, and they were only fazed by their descent for only a short time. Soon, the SS-Troopers made their way towards killing everyone within the Singuonese Imperial Palace: If they were not going to catch the emperor of the Singuonese, they would at least burn the palace to the ground.
Elsewhere, over a hundred thousand Nihojonese soldiers surged forth into Singuo, backed by the great steam weaponry developed by Dr. Akira Light. Poor, slant-eyed souls.
_______________
*Note: The SS-Troopers in the Imperial Palace would set a smoke signal for the NSAF Warhawk to fetch them: The pilot will be watching the ruckus from above, going to descend only when he sees the smoke signal.
*Note: The bulk of the Singuonese armies should be at the Singuo-Nihojonese border, after the visible military parading done by the Nihojonese. The Palace should be minimally guarded, and mostly by ceremonial guys practicing with swords and spears.
*Note: NSAF = Nihojonese Standard Air Force
*Note: Sorry if I can't maintain a consistent storytelling tone and if this feels a tad rushed, because I can't and it is.
_______________
Completely unrelated with anything but the nationality of Jeremy Sieko (and possibly others, but I was hit by this stroke of funny when I was going through character profiles and re-read his): [wiki]Durian[/wiki].
Fuschia
A Little Odd
Not quite. If you give it a good kick, it might break apart, and he still can't get it to go up stairs properly. Eventually it might reach that level of sophistication, but certainly not at the moment.
I suppose you are right. I am not imaginative when it comes to talking about fire particles.
flyingchicken
Deity
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2007
- Messages
- 3,783
The Steam Walker did walk upon the earth, and the tiny mortals that did beholden its power trembled in its wake; it was likened upon a great dragon risen from the Earth, Sea, and Sky, made of Metal and devoid of Wood, placed upon this humble world to crush all those which anger it.
The Singuonese musketmen did so spurt out Singuonese gibberish before being extinguished by a highly-pressurized jet of steam, and the Singuonese did learn of the power of the Steam Walker.
The Singuonese did so try to bayonet and pike the Steam Walker, only to be scalded and stepped on into bloodied masses of flesh and bone; the Singuonese did so learn the power of the Steam Walker.
The Singuonese did so foolishly try to charge with lance and horse the great Steam Walker, and they, too, fell into lifeless heaps; man and horse flesh did litter the fields of battle, burnt by hot steam.
The Singuonese did so try, in a stroke of cleverness, to strike down the great machine with cannon, but the Steam Walker did not fall for the few balls that did hit were of little consequence. The artillerymen were so verily crushed and burnt like the rest.
In the end, hordes of Singuonese did so retreat, and the great Steam Walker did so return to its nest among the Nihojonese to have its armor recast and repaired, for it was to charge again the next day to break the Singuonese resolve to fight.
- From "The Memoirs of a Nihojonese Soldier," a widely-published book in post-war Nihojon
The Singuonese musketmen did so spurt out Singuonese gibberish before being extinguished by a highly-pressurized jet of steam, and the Singuonese did learn of the power of the Steam Walker.
The Singuonese did so try to bayonet and pike the Steam Walker, only to be scalded and stepped on into bloodied masses of flesh and bone; the Singuonese did so learn the power of the Steam Walker.
The Singuonese did so foolishly try to charge with lance and horse the great Steam Walker, and they, too, fell into lifeless heaps; man and horse flesh did litter the fields of battle, burnt by hot steam.
The Singuonese did so try, in a stroke of cleverness, to strike down the great machine with cannon, but the Steam Walker did not fall for the few balls that did hit were of little consequence. The artillerymen were so verily crushed and burnt like the rest.
In the end, hordes of Singuonese did so retreat, and the great Steam Walker did so return to its nest among the Nihojonese to have its armor recast and repaired, for it was to charge again the next day to break the Singuonese resolve to fight.
- From "The Memoirs of a Nihojonese Soldier," a widely-published book in post-war Nihojon
KrimzonStriker
Master of the Dawn
- Joined
- Oct 3, 2005
- Messages
- 1,933
Name/Player: Nathanial "Nate" Allendore
Color: Amber
Nationality: Angilan/Currently resides in Vestlund
Bio: A refugee from the turmoil of the Angilan power struggles, Nate had always been told to hide his special abilities since he was 11 years old, instead learning secretly under private tutors and books that his middle-class family could provide. While certainly bright he grew up as a normal and happy child, until the war had suddenly taken his family and forced him along with other refugees across the border into the Vestlund holding in the north of the island. The trauma he has endured hardened him to the realities of the world, and have made him determined to use his gifts to prevent the tragedy of his life from ever occurring again. At sixteen he has made himself a resident of Vestlund's proper for about six-months now, and has taken an interest in Vestlund's late Doctor Isaac Hayden's work on Aniotic Physics, seeking to exploit it for practical purposes. He holds extreme admiration for Ryan Amedeus and Katherine Marie Aylor, as individuals who defy and work to overcome the injustice that has plagued their homeland and seeks to gain contact with them, but lacking confidence in his ability to contribute to the fight until he manages to make some headway in his new research.
Technology:Generic
Forces: 1 Automaton Service Drone
Hope you don't mind I inserted myself in here Iggy, this looks like fun so I thought I'd try it out
Color: Amber
Nationality: Angilan/Currently resides in Vestlund
Bio: A refugee from the turmoil of the Angilan power struggles, Nate had always been told to hide his special abilities since he was 11 years old, instead learning secretly under private tutors and books that his middle-class family could provide. While certainly bright he grew up as a normal and happy child, until the war had suddenly taken his family and forced him along with other refugees across the border into the Vestlund holding in the north of the island. The trauma he has endured hardened him to the realities of the world, and have made him determined to use his gifts to prevent the tragedy of his life from ever occurring again. At sixteen he has made himself a resident of Vestlund's proper for about six-months now, and has taken an interest in Vestlund's late Doctor Isaac Hayden's work on Aniotic Physics, seeking to exploit it for practical purposes. He holds extreme admiration for Ryan Amedeus and Katherine Marie Aylor, as individuals who defy and work to overcome the injustice that has plagued their homeland and seeks to gain contact with them, but lacking confidence in his ability to contribute to the fight until he manages to make some headway in his new research.
Technology:Generic
Forces: 1 Automaton Service Drone
Hope you don't mind I inserted myself in here Iggy, this looks like fun so I thought I'd try it out
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