New Malice - Open (Walk-In)

[The Everchangeling]

Roilvn Whiro

ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?

Location: Dread's Tent
With: Dread and Gunna .

Wrath hadn't quite expected Dread to give much of an explanation, but he'd told her little to nothing. Except that these “weirdboyz” could be of divine origin Especially not when he was eating. The warboss just wasn't that articulate in his explanations, or hadn't been so far, and she didn't expect that to change.

Aside from possibly insulting Dread in the same token, the mek-ork was proving to be quite useful; that was the only reason she wasn't flying off the handle and making an attempt to kill him. The elf's right hand twitched slightly and she curled it into a fist to hide the motion. The ork was useful, if very secretive. She scowled while he eyed her, igniting a device, she assumed, on his metal claw. She watched him with the jaded scrutiny of a warlord long since used to naught but battle. It looked like dragon fire, but seemed to sizzle like lighting. Sensing no magic, she figured it was something of his own making. Gunna's comments provided more insight than she had been prepared for; it was no less reassuring than Dread's. ”...You have psions?” she questioned, scathingly incredulous a she turned her crimson gaze to Dread for a moment before returning it to Gunna as he continued speaking.

She was not pleased. While such troopers could prove to be most useful, they were extremely dangerous. The elf had never trusted psychics. There had been a number of them in her travels, but the ever imposing presence of Vengence's madness had a tendency to prevent them from invading her mind. ”...We will have to look into that, at a later time. And with much caution. I'll slaughter the lot of them, if they prove to be too dangerous.” She unclenched her fist and waved dismissively with her ruined hand. ”It doesn't sit well with me that you seem to be saying that this place could be invaded, either by 'daemons' or 'Ty-ra-nids'. In either case, it would be advantageous to get this sorry pile of tents organized into some kind of order.” While she was curious about this clock -thing that Gunna kept mentioning it, she wasn't going to press the issue. It was of much less concern than an impending invasion on top of everything else.

The call to battle,
The Song of War.

[The Shade of Casin]

Remember you lot of grot lovers...

Dread began to laugh and pound hios fist on the ground. The snotlings screamed as their buildings shook, but surprisingly none fell. Dread however seemed to be in a very good humor. He looked towards Wrath and then towards Gunna. "Dem Tyr'n'idz 're proppa fig'tin. Dats da fun ov dem. dey add moor fig'tin to a proppa Waaaaghhhh." Dread leaned back, still roaring before he shook his head.

"Dats a gud un."

I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

Clockwork_Daeva

ChainsawDooM

[ChainsawDooM]

Roilvn Whiro

Clockwork_Daeva

Lokashun: Dread'z tent
Wiff: Dread an' Wraff

Gunna beamed widely in response to Dread. "Yeh, boss! Dey's is a proppah foight. Tasty eatin' too!" he agreed, and then broke in the widest and most jovial grin he'd sported thus far "But da zoggin' fings nevah 'ave no loot! Oi mean, what kin Oi build wiff slimy chunky chitin gubbinz and goop? Nuffin dat's what! Har har har! Big joke among da Mek boyz! Olways a mix uv whoops an' groanz when we 'ear we'z fightin' 'em!"

His giant orky grin never left his face while he rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Fact, da only fing worse den fighten dem gribblies is fightin' dem tin boyz! Olwayz comin' in wiff deir fan-see green dakka, floaty boyz, boyz what get back up when youz already stomped 'em, tellyportin' in deir big pyramid fings, lookin' loik a lootah's dream com true! An' whatta dey do when ya krump 'em? Tellyport away! Or fizzle up ter nuffin in green fire! Yous can't even eat 'em! Dey's da bigges' teazes dere is: dead 'ard fightahs what give ya nuffin' ter show fer beatin' em, 'cept a bunch uv shot up trukks an' 'wagons Oi's got ter fix an' a bunch uv boyz what got turned ter goo an' smoke! Oi'd ravver foight a fousand pan-zee, fairy-pantzed, twiggy-arsed, runnin' away Eldarz den a mob uv dem tin boyz! Leas' dey 'ave da decency ter scream an' make funny facez when ya kill 'em and drop lootz! ..'Afore dey all run away inter dat zoggin' webway o deirs...' he ranted, punctuating his speech with another scoff and a shake of his head at the indignity of it all.

"Bunch uv soddin', teazin' gitz, da lot of 'em!"

[The Everchangeling]

Roilvn Whiro

ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?

Location: Dread's Tent
With: Dread and Gunna .

The elf stared is silence at the pair of orks as they laughed at the thought of an impending invasion. Had they been elves, this prospect would have been taken as a very serious threat to their livelihoods, something too be seen with dread, while these orks seemed to relish the challenges, and rewards, of such a fight. With her elbows on the table and her face in her hands, the elf began to laugh darkly. She'd been thinking about this whole thing the wrong way. Ah, well...One does learn... Snickering, she stood from where she'd been seated and sighed as if she'd laughed too much, walking around the table. ”Well, then, one supposes it would be a boon, then, to have such 'proper fighting' to do. Though some of these enemies sound like they would be tedious, I don't think they'll find themselves in as pleased about it as you lot.”

The call to battle,
The Song of War.

[The Shade of Casin]

Remember you lot of grot lovers...

Dread nodded as his rolling laughter too began to slow. "Aye. But dats why orkz 'r da bestat figh'in! Figh'in make us stronga, 'n orkz neva lose. Wez made fer figh'in 'b win'in."

Dread turned to Gunna before he looked towards the small city. The ork whistled and clicked his large tongue. He picked up a chunk of meat as he watched and waited. The snotling city sprang to life before a group of snotlings appeared in front of him. "Iz needz a crew. Sum da brainie uns. Dayz gonna go wif Gunna."

Dread nodded towards Gunna before he looked towards the two, "Wez getta bigga bom' 'n." Dread put his elbow on the table, and had it fall to hit the table. Simulating the tower getting the base blown out and toppling over.

"Datz a gud un."

I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

Clockwork_Daeva

ChainsawDooM

[ChainsawDooM]

Roilvn Whiro

Clockwork_Daeva

Lokashun: Dreadz Tent.
Wiff: Dread an' Wraff.

Gunna was pleased when Wrath laughed along with the Orks. It was the first real sign he'd had that she might be in this along with them, rather than simply using them. Gunna did not like being used... unless the loot was exceedingly good, then he could look past it long enough to do the job... before betraying whatever poor sod decided to use the Orks.

... So far the loot did not look exceedingly good.

Allies and joint operations though, well, at least true allies... those he'd never actually met until his recent experiences. They were fun in their own way, he had to admit. Orks were not sentimental creatures, though, and that's as far as the sentiment truly got: an appreciation for not always having to watch your own back.

He still watched her as she walked around the table, ready to react if she became a threat. He wasn't hostile, but still didn't trust her.

A snort was all the response Gunna gave to Dread rounding up a work detail. It was clear the Snotlings still bothered him, and clearer still he didn't trust them. He'd definitely have to inspect this work crew before he allowed it to tinker in his shop. Plus, he still had to talk to the Snotling boss and lay down some rules.

"Afore we call dis meetin' ter a klose, boss, dere's sum fings Oi need ter know firs'. Importan' fings." He said, once again fixing his eyes on Wrath. His expression was the look of a tactician, neutral and calculating, but not challenging.

"Now den, about our enemies. Oi's get we'z is foightin' dese 'Vir-choose,' But dat's oll you'z told me. If'n you'z expect me ter do moi job an' build fings ter krump 'em dead, Oi'm gonna need more'n dat. Loik, 'ow many uv em do ya know uv? 'Oo are deir bosses? Wot equipment dey'z got? Duz dey 'ave any magiks an' wot koinds? Plus, wot's da lay uv da lan' an any resourzes ya seen.

"Anyfing you know iz stuff Oi don', an' so it'z oll good ter know," he said with a nod, cocking his head slightly to follow into his next topic, his eyes losing none of their focus or intensity.

"Secon', we'z need ter know if dere's anyone else in dis joint operashun. Orkz'll stomp anyfin' what comes close or we run into dat ain't an Ork, so if dere's sumfin' we'z shooden stomp, you'z bettah tell us now, ur we'll stomp it good an proppah an' you'z'll be sorry latah. Much as Oi enjoy a good foight, Oi'd ravvah not waste me toim krumpin' wot don' needs ter be krumped an' use dat toim ter stomp da fings wot need ter be stomped da most firs', den we'z kin have more fun latah," he finished with a slow smile, his eyes looking off into the distance as if looking into a future of war and violence. He clearly liked what he saw.

Bringing his attention back to the present, he took another drag of his cigar. He leaned back slightly as he flicked the ash onto the ground, and put the cigar back into his mouth, then rolled his shoulders. And quickly frowned. He could no longer stand it, even if it would be rude. "Oi'z is gettin' zoggin' uncomfor'ble kneelin' loik dis," he said, and then lit up the boosters in his armor. They roared as jets of fire flew out backwards and downward, the servos in his armor whining in protest as he decided to stand up. "Oi's is gettin' a fraggin' stump ter sit on. Oi'll be back," he said before exiting the tent, heading straight for the nearest tree.

***

Location: Near the Clearing in the Woods.
With: A boy that doesn't know he's already dead.

"Oi! Grot! Drop dem teef, ya runt! Or Oi'll gut ya!"

Wingnut sighed lightly before a malevolent glee took over and lit up his features. It appeared some enterprising Ork boy had also had the bright idea to come and claim some teeth. However, he seemed too stupid to find any of his own, but came to investigate the sound of the recent explosions. This won't take long, Wingnut thought, but it will be fun.

The Ork boy reacted surprisingly fast to Wingnut's charge, but he was already dead. Wingnut's plan of attack was carefully planned and perfectly executed. A spray of fire spouted from his flamer directly at the Ork. The gout of flame was too far away to do much but singe him, but it did have the desired effect of both blinding him from his advance, and caused the Ork to throw his arms up to shield himself from the heat of the burning promethium.

Cackling, Wingnut rushed through the wall of flames directly at the boy while holstering his burna, his asbestos uniform and burna boy mask doing it's job perfectly and protecting him from the flames. Counting his paces, Wingnut drew one of his combat knives and then burst through the obscuring layer of fire and smoke right in front of the Ork. Right where he wanted to be.

He dove quickly, somersaulting under the Ork and between his legs far faster than the defending Ork could react, slashing the tendons at the back of his right knee as he rolled back up, causing the Ork to buckle forward onto the ground. Flipping up onto his feet and spinning around, a quick flick of his wrist sent the knife into the left heel of the Ork while in the same moment his other hand once again drew his burna. While throwing the knife was not really necessary, he did find the act a satisfying testament to his skill. Besides, his next move was the coup de grace.

Aiming his burna at the back of the kneeling orkz head, he pumped a slide underneath it and pulled a secondary trigger. The shotgun shell -- filled with the ork equivalent of 00 buckshot -- flew out, impacting wetly into the back of the Ork's skull. Thanks to what he'd learned about Mek business from working with Gunna, he had made a few modifications to his burna. One of these was combining a pump action shotgun into the burna. It only had 5 shots, but there was no doubt it had its uses. Other modifications were a bayonet, and a system of levers and nozzles he could use to quickly adjust the fuel mix, nozzle, and turn off the flame, in case he wanted to send a spray of raw, unlit promethium. All had been used.

To his surprise, the Ork had survived the execution style shot to the back of the head, his thick skill saving him from death. He was unquestionably unconscious, however, and would likely remain that way for some time. How unlucky for him, Wingnut thought darkly. I suppose I've found my source of intel.

Switching his burna to a cutting torch mode, he quickly and efficiently cut the teeth out of the dead Orks he could find, as well as his new "friend," ending up with 60.

One of his missions completed, he set to dragging the Ork somewhere private. Somewhere better suited for interrogation.

Things were going to get fun, indeed.

[The Everchangeling]

Roilvn Whiro

ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?

Location: Dread's Tent
With: Dread and Gunna

Tauivae had been about to answer Gunna's questions when the mek suddenly got up and lumbered out of the tent with the intention of retrieving a stump to sit on. She would not follow him and would have been enraged if he hadn't caught her so off guard. Which was miffing unto itself. The elf raised a brow and glanced over at Dread, "Proving to be quite an odd one, isn't he? ...After this, we'll have to go see those 'weirdboyz'. Not knowing about them doesn't sit well with me and I intend to test their strength. What do you say?" she said to the Warboss, then turned her gaze to the door, falling into silence as she thought on what to tell their newly found "ally" of their foes.

The call to battle,
The Song of War.

[ChainsawDooM]

Roilvn Whiro

Clockwork_Daeva

Lokashun: Da Ork Kamp by da Forest
Wiff: No-wun

Gunna moved purposefully towards, the tree, wishing to waste as little time as possible on a thing as inconsequential as comfort. If that were all this was about, He wouldn't have even bothered, but he could almost hear the bolts and pistons sqealing in protest as he continued to kneel there in the tent. That Wrath had gotten up and began to circle around the table had also bothered him. He doubted he'd be able to get standing and able to fight in time to deny her the advantage if things were to somehow turn violent. A stump would help both of those problems.

He made it over to the trees and selected one of the right size. Some kind of oak. It was thick, but not particularly tall or straight, about 16 feet before the trunk turned to branches. Activating his power klaw, he took a quick downward-angled swipe close to the ground near the base of the tree, the power field cutting through the wood with minimal resistance. Cracks and pops could be heard as the moisture in the trunk flash boiled in an instant before even the steam was violently ripped apart at the molecular level. The tree also caught fire. Things tended to do that when you hit them with an ork power field. He followed the slash with a quick slam of his left shoulder into the tree, to force it to fall the way he wanted.

He then quickly cut off the ends to make a squared-off log, which he then hoisted onto his right shoulder after once again turning the field off on his klaw. His armor groaned in protest, but held. He then carried the still smoldering and slightly-burning-at-the-ends log back to the tent.

Loud thuds signaled his return to the tent, his considerable weight leaving deep imprints in the ground. The whole act had taken a strikingly short amount of time. Reaching the flap, he let the log drop carelessly to ground outside the tent with an earth-shaking thud, before reaching and latching onto it with his hydraulic power klaw while making his way back through the flap with his right hand.

He then quickly got to work slashing sections off the log with the klaw. He was aware this would show off the weapon's abilities to Wrath. The Elf's reaction before was rather disappointing, but whether that was from ignorance or whether she was merely unimpressed he couldn't be sure. Not that he particularly cared anymore. He was focused on his work, simple though it may have been.

It looked like he was making 3 simple seats: one each for Dread, Wrath, and himself. He placed them at, or in Dread's case nearby, where each had been sitting. He then went back and cut what was left of the log in half, making long bench-like seats which he dragged to each side of the table, rolling them first to put out the flames before finally sitting on his stump, nodding satisfactorily to himself.

"Dat's bettah," he said, before looking at Wrath once again for the answers to his earlier questions.

[The Shade of Casin]

Remember you lot of grot lovers...

~~~ Before Gunna's Return~~~

Dread shook his head no, before pointing to his armor. "Naw, heza mek. Brainy, un kunnin fer shur." Dread gave a hur hur hur. "Dis is feelin. weez seein ifa wez figh'in er weza figh'in." Dread looked towards this armaments, taking this moment to check his load out. HE began to move his head around, the snotlings in his helmet strapped in and his suit seeming to whirl to life before dying into silence again. He nodded and leaned foward, grabbing a peice of the meat as he chewed it thoughfully.

~~~~ As Gunna Enters~~~~

"Ye know, I miz da 'iant. Datz gud meet." Dread chuckled as the Mek boy dragged in his stump. Dread fully understood. it was one of the reasons he sat the way he did, it was something he had been trained in that most ork did not enjoy of find comfortable. He gave a hur hur hur laugh as he looked towards the two of his compatriots. "Weez ar all 'ard, So can't wez be 'ard tegetha?" Dread leaned foward on the table and looked towards the flap. He whistled and looked towards the snotling City. "Yez 'av da nigh off." Dread moved a cask of beer and a large protion of meat next to the snotlings camp. Suddenly the camp exploded, the food and drink began to be handed out and the sounds of joy and general merryment could be heard echoing outside of the tent. Tead leaned foward, Drawing a line across a weld that seemed to be worn, but not old. "Warf cut me 'ead off. She is a proppa figh'ta." Dread crossed his arms and leaned back, smiling as he did to, a toothy orky grin.

I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

Clockwork_Daeva

ChainsawDooM

]

[The Everchangeling]

Roilvn Whiro

ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?

Location: Dread's Tent
With: Dread and Gunna .

As there was variation in all other things, Dread reminded her that orks were just as varied. She was beginning to lose her patience and her curiosity was waning, but Wrath said nothing in response to his summation of what was going on at this very moment. The elf knew that he was right. They were feeling each other out. Tensions would probably remain high until all of them were certain. She stood at the tent flap, watching Gunna as he brought down a tree in order to make a seat for himself and, apparently, herself and Dread. As he approached, she moved aside to allow him passage

~~~~~

The elf then turned a cool sideways glance at Gunna as he seated himself and Dread said his piece about them fighting together, rather than against each other. She wondered if his vouching for her really lent any credibility with the other orks. It seemed that letting Vengeance do the “talking” was a little more effective, but there was a time and a place for that. Diplomacy was still of some value, perhaps. She smirked slightly as she spoke, ”One supposes it would do for you to know our enemies, if you are to fight with us...” she said, pacing another circle around the tent before taking a seat. “Foremost, there are seven Sins. You've met one, myself. There are also, Pride, Greed, Lust, Sloth, Envy, and Gluttony. Of these, I have seen only four others, but it is possible that all seven may have manifested. There are also our counterparts, seven Virtues. Humility, Charity, Chastity, Diligence, Kindness, Temperance and Patience.” She growled out that last word, as if the very taste of it disgusted and angered her, then paused for a moment, thinking and making an attempt to regain her composure. ”The Virtues and their gods, any of their allies, whatever they may be, those are our enemies. The Sins and their respective allies are not to be harmed. Unless, of course, they attack you, first. They risk death if they threaten to stop us. Truly, I want very few things out of this, Gunna. I want the Virtues and that gods-be-damned Tower destroyed. Everything that this ork army takes belongs to you lot, as you see fit to divvy it up amongst yourselves. I'll take what I need, but you'll find that to be little. She sighed, more frustrated than wistful, then made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “It's hard to say what our enemies will be like, since they've not yet been observed. But they will be here, in force and back with as much holy power as the heavens can spare them. There is likely to be all manner of foes. Magic, they will definitely use, but it will not be their only resource.”

The call to battle,
The Song of War.

[ChainsawDooM]

Roilvn Whiro

Clockwork_Daeva

Lokashun: Dreadz Tent.
Wiff: Dread an' Wraff.

Gunna looked back towards Dread as his boss spoke about working together and his expression softened as he unfolded his arms. "Yes-sir, Boss. Sorry, Boss. Oi was jus' reactin', but youz is roight," he started as he shifted his glowing red gaze, matching Wrath's crimson one "it'z kounta-produktive in joint operashunz ter be at eachuvvas froats. Dere'z more 'portant fings dat needz doin'," he said, as a smile began to creep into his brutish features. He leaned forward eagerly, flopping his arms onto the table and then folding them over one another. "Sos, whadja say we'z stop muckin' about measurin' choppas an' get ter werk, eh?" he asked Wrath, now sporting a toothy orky grin of his own to match Dread's.

He wondered idly to himself if the work crew Dread had assigned him still had to report to him, but he quickly dismissed it. Whether they did or not wasn't really his concern. Either they would or they wouldn't. Gunna did wonder why Dread had brought up his beheading at the hands of Raf in Vulra again, but he dismissed it as well, chalking it up to some eccentricity of his new boss. He didn't realize that Dread was actually talking about the Wrath in front of him, and the possibility never even occurred to him. As far as he was concerned, Wrath was working with the Orks. He couldn't even begin to conceive the concept that they might be working for her.

Gunna's eyes began to gloss over as Wrath began to name off the names of the Sins and Virtues. He clearly drifted in and out trying to follow the information, and at one point his organic eye began to cross slightly while his cybernetic eye unfocused. He wasn't good with names, even less good with funny sounding names like "Glut Knee" and "Tim Prance". He did catch that there were six other "Sinz" that were supposedly on their side, and only might have to be stomped, and Seven of these "Vur-chooz" that needed to be stomped. The significance of the names was completely lost on him, as well. He was pleased with Wrath's terms on their relationship, however. Full looting rights and things to krump? It could hardly get better than that. He wasn't happy with the lack of intelligence on their foes, but he wasn't displeased, either. Orks go into things with no tactical information all the time. It was just nice to have. He wasn't looking forward to fighting foes with magic, though. Magic was always tricky to deal with.

His eyes snapped back into focus. "You'z iz gonna 'ave ter write down dem names if dey'z 'portant. Oi izzn't gonna rumemba wunz dat stupid.

"'Ere," he said, sliding a piece of paper and his pencil to Wrath. "Jus' skritch 'em down an' Oi'll 'ave Wingnut look 'em over, laytah. 'E's brainy when it comes ter dis sorta fing."

[The Shade of Casin]

Remember you lot of grot lovers...

Dread laughed as he sat back again, letting the two speak as he listened. "Gud. Lut ake a WAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH." Dread laughed a toothy grin and looked towards the small city roaring to life. He knew that he lost his production from his small city for at least twelve hours. He smiled and shrugged, learning back from the table letting the two of them go back and forth.

I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

Clockwork_Daeva

ChainsawDooM

[The Everchangeling]

Roilvn Whiro

ChainsawDooM

Can you hear it...
Under all the racket?

Location: Dread's Tent
With: Dread and Gunna .

The scowling elf sighed heavily, then made a dismissive gesture with her hand and seemed to be frowning less as she said, “Fine. You both have a point. We'll get nowhere with trying to kill each other. There's a grand war to be had. If you need a written list, then I'll have to borrow some of that paper of yours and a pen, Gunna. Do you know what languages your little friend can read?” What she hated most was that they were right.

The call to battle,
The Song of War.

[ChainsawDooM]

Roilvn Whiro

Clockwork_Daeva

Lokashun: Dreadz Tent.
Wiff: Dread an' Wraff.

He gave a little frown at the word "friend." To even suggest that an ork was friends with a grot was an insult, and she had outright stated it. The boss had ordered him to "play nice," though, and he would follow orders. Up to a point. A boss that proved complete incompetence deserved no loyalty. "Oi's is preddy sure Private Wingnut kin read wateva it iz dat you Elf-darz norm'ly speak. An' he knowz dem two wunz wot mos' boyz seem ter know... wots dey called... "Anglez" an' "Come-on" or summat."

He paused for a moment, as if unsure to continue, and glanced at Dread as if to remind himself before looking back at Wrath. " 'E also knowz 'ow ter read dem blue git Tau's writin', dem Emperor boy 'umie's writin', da panzee Eldar writin', dem Dorf boy writin', and dem runty gnome-boy writin'. Dunno if'n datz even useful, but 'e duz."

[The Shade of Casin]

Remember you lot of grot lovers...

Dread cringed at the word friend. He closed his fist in anticipation, but his eyes widened in mild surprise. He expected for Gunna to reach out and have his powa claw and cut the elf in half. Meks where a dime a dozen, hell some of dem were dowm right unorky, but Gunna was showing that he was a high quality mek, or at least a well trained one. then again, his clan markings was that of the Blood Axe's after all. He decided to sit back, letting the two feel each other out. He would have shrugged if he was talking, he did not really care if they killed each other. He would have to kill gunna, and that would be sad. Or Wrath would kill Gunna and then there would be mek spores everywhere.

He leaned foreward, placing his elbow on his knee and his head in his right hand, looking towards the snotling village.

The town roared to life as they drank and feasted. The snotlings could be heard making praises to Gork, Mork, Wrath, and Dread. The factories normally overworked past the point of breaking stood filled with the parties and fighting of snotlings. In different areas of the town different fighters had different fighting styles based on the four they sung praises to. The snotlings of dread moves in massive amounts of ruble and hand crafted armor, often just falling over onto their enemies. The Snotlings of Wrath used sticks and the best use swords, often parrying blows. The men of Gork used massive choppas for their sides. The children of Mork moved quickly, often stabbing people in the back. Dread watched as champions rose, in different sections moved to the center to fight each other.

I is the biggest, so I is the Boss

Clockwork_Daeva

ChainsawDooM