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Everyone had remarked, at the winter Bloodfest, that the sudden snowfall, right before the games had begun, had been incredibly good fortune, just as the earthquake in NHC months before had been a tragic disaster. Both had arrived unforeseen by meteorologist trolls, and while the public had viewed them as completely unrelated, more weather-inclined trolls had seen them as merely peaks in a long string of bizarre weather patterns that had been sweeping the planet. Sudden thunderstorms in Chittentown, the ice caps of Busthind briefly beginning to melt, and even a quick rain of musclebeasts, all freak incidents that passed as quick as they came, and were all swept (or shoveled) under the rug as quickly as possible by the military. While cover-ups were commonplace enough, a few trolls remarked (to no one but their close friends, if they were smart) that it almost seemed that the army was arriving in places to clean up events before they had begun to happen, almost as if they knew when, and where, these incidents would take place.

Not all the weather was bad though, Four Fronds enjoyed a laughably mild winter, and snowstorms avoided the rail systems to and from the cities. After the earthquake, New Hemisect had nothing but blue skies, and the construction in Old Hemisect went full steam ahead, facing no delays from storms. The weather station chirped out the news happily, day after day, of mild weather and light flurries. Sure, Chittentown was getting a lot of crap, and there were some weird things far from the cities, in uninhabited regions, but those were places only inhabited by lowbloods and anti-social weirdoes. And really, if a rain of trees doesn't make you move into the city the first time, well, that's your own fault for being idiotically stubborn.

Needless to say, not all trolls saw it that way. And where there are unhappy lowbloods, there are mutterings of shadowy figures, slipping in and out of doorways, plotting, planning, and pasting badly written revolutionary pamphlets on walls.

Dressed down in dark clothing, mask across their face, the form of the obvious leader loomed against the wall. They made no movements at first, until quickly their hand shot up and swung around in a language known only among the others who had gathered in a loosely formed pack in the lightless hallway. They had their goal in mind, and infiltrating a government lab was no small feat, they had to be quick about it or risk being caught and culled, no question. Sidestepping silently down the rest of the corridor, hoping their intel about the location of security cameras was correct, they eventually came to a room straight out of science fiction with electricity literally buzzing along the walls.

'Spread out and search,' came the hand movements. Crouched forms scurried in separate directions. This was their only chance, guard was low between changing shifts, and soon armed soldiers would be back on patrol. With all the technology, it wasn't immediately apparent where or even what their goal was, but in the next moment, that all became a moot point. Someone, the leader wouldn't name names, but they had a good idea who, had set off some kind of alarm. It tore shrilly through the air, and would seal their fate unless they escaped immediately. As the leader turned to wrangle the troops back together, a loud roar, worse even than the alarm and somewhat sickening, heralded the great crash that came next. Sparks flew and fires welled up where machinery was rended from its base. Not only had they surely given themselves away, but they had released something awful.

It was a lusus, huge and rampaging out of control in the limited space, quickly destroying whatever was in its path. The intruders fell at the quake that spread from its feet even as the armed guards finally made their way in, having heard the commotion. They could do nothing, however, as the beast swung its head and ripped out yet another large piece of equipment. The wires wrapped haphazardly in its horns as it flailed around, and with another horrible scream it smashed through the nearby wall and out into the night, cables snapping like twine, as it carried away the half-crushed, but still blinking machinery with it.

Greetings, beloved citizens of the empire. Today on Troll News Now, we discuss the sudden utter deterioration in Alterina's weather system. While rumours have been circulating for some months, there has finally been an official press release from the palace. It seems that several researches in the royal laboratories have been working on an unauthorized device, called the WACKY, or Weather And Cloud Kinesis Yoohicky. The WACKY device, while still a prototype, was able to control and manipulate the weather in small parts of Alernia for short amounts of time.

While the trolls responsible for this device have been found and culled for their massive breach of public and royal trust, it seems that a lone maniac managed to breach the walls of the laboratory facilities storing this device. While the troll has been dealt with, their accompanying lusus caused heavy damage, and entangled itself in the WACKY device before escaping royal custody. It is now at large, with the WACKY device which, sustaining heavy damage during the break in, is now malfunctioning and out of control. The queen has issued a state of Semi Emergency, Code Relax We'll Take Care Of It, and residents have been advised to stay indoors until the random weather fluctuations die down.

A bounty has been issued for the capture and return of the lusus and WACKY, and all trolls interested have been asked to report to Military Camp 3865, Chittentown North Sector B42, immediately. And now, for the sports.




MORE WACKY LIES!!!!
our SO CALLED royal leader has LIED to the public again! WACKY is a ROYALLY APPROVED project, designed to OPPRESS and CONTROL the ignorant masses!!!!
there was NO LONE MANIAC!! a REBEL task force INFILTRATED ROYAL PROPERTY in an attempt to disable this OPPRESSIVE and CRUEL device! if it is returned to the queen it will only CONTINUE to serve HIGHBLOOD PRIVILEGE and STEP ON THE DOWNTRODDEN MASSES!!!!!!!
if you believe it should be found and placed in RESPONSIBLE HANDS, bring this letter to chittentown, and wait in the alley behind THRAEO'S SLIME SHOP. you won't find us, WE'LL FIND YOU!!!!!!!

Military Camp 3865, one of multiple locations carved further back into the high walls of the canyon that was Chittentown, was buzzing with an unusually wild energy and had been for nights already. There was a line stretching back away from the barbed wire and short row of patrol outpost booths. It was a messy one at this point now that most of the guards had moved inside to deal with those who had already entered. Imposing stone walls that disappeared into the darkness of the high ceilings separated it from the general populace, with only the one open gate leading in or out.

Upon stepping up to the next available booth, the cold eyes of a guard who was obviously tired of dealing with the sudden influx of trolls became visible under the brim of their official looking hat. They were quick to check any available credentials, or turn a blind eye if there were none, and stamp the back of each volunteer's hand with a mark of their number. With as many bodies as their were, there were probably more than a few accidental repeats.

Inside was no less crowded, but much less chaotic. Kept under careful surveillance, each recruit was given a pack of supplies and a crisp, typed list of instructions on what was expected of them until further notice. Accommodations were otherwise nice enough, especially for any and all highbloods, who were housed near the center of the complex and given priority during mealtime. Drones patrolled the hallways, but moving freely within the established area was allowed and even encouraged to ensure that no one grew a little too restless for their own good.

Luckily, it wouldn't be much longer before the night came that everyone was gathered in the large courtyard of the base and given a quick, but well put together overview of just what was going on and what would be expected of them. They would be forming small groups and venturing out in search of the wayward lusus and the stolen, very illegal WACKY device. And, all were poignantly reminded, whoever found said device were expected to return any and every piece of equipment into military custody.



Halfway down the street from two busted out, abandoned buildings and surrounded by often untraveled streets (for good reason) sat Thraeo's, a shop as slimy as its wares. This was a seedier area of town, no question, where most often the bright minds Chittentown was famous for wouldn't be found. It was the perfect location to gather troops, as long as they didn't make a fuss and, preferably, didn't stop into the slime shop before slipping down the unmarked alley and into the waiting claws of the rebel resistance.

Whoever received the note and cared, or took it seriously enough, to find themselves here would be greeted with nothing more than the smell of sewage and a surprising few seconds of being grabbed and blindfolded by unseen figures, before being shuttled off a unknown distance and into a building. With their blindfold removed, they were left to mill about with other similarly disoriented abductees.

Light came only from the headlamps issued to every third of fourth troll, there simply weren't enough to go around, and despite the obvious sound of voices within, everything was startlingly still. It was as if patrol drones could locate them at any moment, which was most certainly possible, especially after what had happened with the task force assigned to taking out the WACKY. They had failed, and with that failure, made things more difficult for the remaining members of the rebel group.

Once ushered into the basement, however, covered overhead by a reinforced ceiling, the noise grew exponentially. Trolls of all blood colors milled about with little semblance of order, and there was hardly even a rumor of information to go by besides the shout-laden note they all carried on them somewhere. Artificial moonlight lit with smoke puffing generators made the headlamps unnecessary, and arriving trolls had theirs taken and returned back up to the entrance block.

Still more would come, that was quite likely, but until then a murmur began running along the crowd of those who had already gathered. The crowd began to shuffle closer to the center of the damp room, and gather around a table that very few would be able to see, as a few cloth shrouded individuals cleared their throats to quiet the masses. Whether one came alone or not, it was immediately recommended to find others to group up with for the hunt that was about to commence. The only reports they had on the WACKY-toting lusus was that it was big. Big, frightening, and dangerous. But whatever the danger, the weather manipulation device could not be allowed into military hands. It would be claimed for the good of all troll-kind, at least that was the plan. It really was hard to say just who among them meant to prove their loyalty to the rebellion by bringing the device back with them and who was in it for themselves.