Lorien Highlands - Rolling Hills
The gentle slopes of two hills roll into a soft U-shaped valley here.
The elevation climbs to the northeast, and descends the hillside to the
southeast. Patches of bare, dark-colored rock are visible among the green
earth underfoot, casting shadows here and there. A portion of the hill has
a sudden drop-off, and while short, would not be the ideal path to travel -
plays host to a stack of rocks.

Gforte sighs, giving off a long shaking exhale. Kneeling to the ground, he plants the shard at his feet, before walking back to the giant lobster robot parked nearby and opening it. After seating himself inside, he casts one last look to the surrounding area, before collecting the backpack containing the other shards and hurling it outside, sealing the hatch after that.

Before the bag hits the ground, Gforte's senses open wide, his body tuning itself for combat. The computer screens sweep the area, some focused behind his mech, some above, and some locked on the location of the shards. With deft switch flicking, all his weapon systems arm, and the lobster takes a wide stance, claws opened and pointing at the group of shards.

As the bag sails through the air, the presence of all eight shards seem to react to one another, or at least, it could be assumed so, given the bright glow suddenly given off by the lone shard embedded in the ground. It trembles, gently at first, then more violently until it shakes itself free of the indent made in the ground, pulling itself by some magical means toward the bag of its crystalline kin.

Comically, the lone shard clashes against the bag's exterior as it tries to reconnect with the remaining seven, but this goofy scene doesn't last long; with a blindingly-bright sunburst effect, the bag is ripped into shreds around the entirety of the crystalline shards, and they all rise together, clumped into one geometrical mess.

They hang there for several moments, pulsing a soft white in the midst of the sunburst effect as it clears away, leaving only the mass of floating shards; over the span of a minute or so, the shards' glow gradually changes from white... to a pale blue.

Suddenly, the mass of shards drops like a massive stone, impacting the ground hard enough to make a small crater (and shaking the earth in a small radius around it, as it does)! The blue light grows opaque all of a sudden, as the mass of crystals elongate and change form.. taking on a tall, crystalline black tower, close to six feet in height and a couple feet long, the spire of which ends in a defined point. The blue glow remains encompassed around it, though its appearance is given off as much more sinister than when it was a mass of broken glass. It hums loudly, reverberations matching the pulse of the glow that surrounds it.

Gforte's eyes narrow. He clenches one hand open and closed, eyes flicking around the screens that map the area around him now. Deep within an unmodified portion of his brain, something small screams at him. It yells for him to flee, for him to beg for this all to stop and for the other people to come back. Gforte grits his teeth at this voice, settling his hands on the mecha's control sticks and glaring down the tower.

Gradually, the glow surrounding the tower begins to coalesce and ascend, from the base to the peak. As it collects itself along its ascent, it grows brighter and more opaque, until it reaches the very top, leaving the rest of the crystal column dark and bare, as an orb of pulsing energy now sits upon the top.

Seconds pass, and electric crackles issue out from the energy orb; a huge bolt of dark blue lightning suddenly streaks outward from it, charring the ground directly in front of the crystalline column.. and leaving a glowing, golden trident embedding in the ground from the impact.

Klaxons roar to life inside the lobstrocity, and several of the screens do their damndest to warn him with any number of popups that this entire situation doesn't reek of danger, it crawls in your nose and airs itself proudly. An angry fist slams a few controls and the alarms all die however. Gforte runs his eye along the trident embedded into the ground, and the lobster's claws extend forwards, internal weapons pointed at this new arrival.

From out of thin air, a phantasmal hand reaches out to grasp the trident by the shaft, just below where the prongs come together and join the handle. As thei hand's slender fingers wrap around the golden weapon, the rest of the hand's body suddenly and abruptly materialized; a tall-ish woman, swathed in a pale blue sleeveless gown, dark blue hair flowing freely down her back. She lifts the weapon from the earth, tapping the blunt end of it gently on the ground as the peers toward the mech, along the length of the lobster claw pointed now at her, and smiles disarmingly. "Well, hello there. It seems we meet again." The energy ball once set atop the spire is now gone, as well. Completely and utterly, leaving behind an empty-looking black crystal tower.

"Personification of Death. I'll admit, you weren't what I was expecting for the end of the world." Gforte reaches out, touching the right load-chamber of his mecha. In his mind, he traces it's insides to the payload, and then strains himself for a moment. "Let's... see how this goes again. Shall we?" His words strained, a glow dimly lights the inside of the lobster's arm. Inside, as blood trickles from Gforte's nose, runes mark the weapons packed within. "Unless you want to beg for your life now."

Erim smiles openly, amusedly. "Now see, there's an ironic twist to that, dear. My title is not what many people assume it to be; clearly, you could give that title to any one of us, given our line of work." As soon as she utters the word 'work', she taps her trident on the ground again, and straight from the skies above, two identical bolts of white lightning rocket down toward the earth in straight pillars of electric flair, striking the ground loudly! At the individual impacts, two more forms suddenly materialize from the lightning; one is a broad-shouldered, golden-armored man with slicked-back blonde hair and wielding a larger trident than the woman beside him, and on her other side, a huge knight in pitch-black armor rises to a full height of eight feet or so, features hidden in the sheer display of black metal that encases his body. A massive broadsword is clenched tightly in both gauntleted hands, and the sound of staggered breathing can be heard within the helmet's faceted mouthpiece. "My name IS Erim, and I AM the Sinistral of Death. But I am so much more than that. Pity, though, I get the feeling you don't want me to explain what I mean." Her smile never leaves, even as the new arrivals turn their attention to the Lobstrocity, but make no moves.

Gforte closes his eyes for a moment as the others arrive, and his mind for once has fallen deathly silent. The warmth of his own blood trickling off his chin opens his eyes again, and Gforte lets out a short, scratchy chuckle. "Great. Three of you. And only one little old mortal to stand in your way. Nothing more than a damn speedbump." Gforte leans closer to the microphone in his cockpit, whispering into it now. "If you want to talk, dear Erim. Then please, talk. But know two things." His fists clench in anticipation and Gforte now yells at the top of his lungs. "I AM GFORTE, DAMNED TO DIE IF I AM, I'LL FUCKING RIP AT LEAST ONE OF YOU APART."

"That's completely unnecessary, on both counts." A regal-sounding voice speaks from out of thin air, as a large ball of white light suddenly manifests in front of the other three, conforming and twisting into a large, fur-cloaked figure in red and gold. A sparkling golden circlet adorns his forehead, and he stands about as tall as Erim, but his attire make him seem much wider in girth. He looks upon the mech, and its pilot, with a blank expression, one that a calm lord might address a subject who was acting out of turn. "I'm sure there's a peaceful resolution to all of this nonsense. Don't you agree?" As he speaks, the others lower their weapons, not from their grasps, but toward the ground in a display of non-aggression. Their expressions have all changed to match this newcomer's, going both silent and solemn all at once.

Gforte all but growls at this newcomer, eye running over him while his mind runs over itself. Making sure his own brainwashing is in place, Gforte now looks to the others, noting their change. "You ever hear of me before? Ever follow any of my story? Of course not. Tell me your name before I decide if your posture doesn't piss me the fuck off more or less than my old boss."


"A fine question. My name is Daos, Sininstral of Chaos. Behind me are my kin, known as Amon, Erim, and Gades, Sinistrals of Terror, Death, and Destruction, respectively. And beyond mere introductions, I must thank you for allowing my sister to resurrect in her entirety. Without your, and her aid, we might still be imaginative thoughts in a person's mind." Daos gestures resolutely, holding his regal stance on front of the mech. The other behind him relax, not breathing a word as their apparent 'lord' says his piece. "To answer your question, however, I'm afraid I do not know who you are. All mortals tend to be the same in our eyes; cowardly, weak, and full of despair in their petty situations revolved around life. They require structure, guidance; things that keep them in line and will prevent their own self-destruction." He speaks calmly and eloquently, again in the same "talking to an ignorant peasant" methodology.

The soft glow of the lobstrocity's weapons continues, and Gforte shakes his head. "Yeah. No, he was more of an asshole then you were. You come close though, just not quite as good as he was. As for this being solved peacefully, it's probably not going to happen. See, In a few seconds I'm going to press all these buttons in this cockpit, shooting a whole lot of things at you. Then, I'm going to roar and charge you, doing my damndest to smash you into a flat fucking paste on the grass. It probably won't work, for some shit immortal reason though. Then, while you're sitting there, calmly holding up under my attacks, your friends with their shit-eating grins plastered on their faces about this fool mortal attacking you fruitlessly, I'm going to remind you all that there were two things I mentioned earlier. You won't care, seeing your superiority to me, and then I'm going to let You know what I know. Are you ready for that?'

Daos sighs, looking disappointed. "If you are keen enough in foresight to predict your own demise, why would you yet continue down your doomed road? Are you that averse to possibility elsewise, where you've set yourself in one direction and one direction only? You don't even possess the Dual Blade; you don't need to be a Sinistral to know this. Such futility in your actions will solve nothing, and only leave strained the hearts of those who have been touched by your presence." Erim smiles at Daos' words, and nods knowingly. "Including the raven-haired one. Are you yet certain that she has abandoned you to your own demise, and that she has turned a blind eye to your plight? Maybe she holds out for you, thinking that there may still be one last shred of common sense, somewhere deep in that angry mind of yours. Pitiful, really, but these are the thoughts of those touched by mortal hearts. It cannot be helped." The four of them are still relaxed in their posture, not at all geared for combat. Or, rather, FULLY geared, just not in any sort of practical stance for it.

Gforte pulls two triggers in his controls, and both the lobstrocity's claws flare, explosions ringing out from them. Shrapnel cascades from the left, metal shards in no particular theme coating the area as full weapons shoot from the right, some tumbling to fly hilt first instead of blade first, but all covered in magic-eating runes. Gforte roars a moment afterwards, the still hot claws of the mecha being propelled forwards with the rest of it as he charges, blind to whatever effect his previous attack might have had.

Daos, Amon and Gades all raise their arms and respective weapons defensively, reacting to shield Erim with their considerable-combined girth from this onslaught, which they do fairly well; despite their outward demeanor, the weapons and shrapnel rip and tear and Amon and Gade's faces and exposed flesh, and cause many unmerciful dents in Gades' thick armor; yet they do not retaliate, even as the initial fury is spent and backed up by the Lobstrocity itself's charge! Bleeding and slashed open, Amon and Daos' faces hold small grins of mischievious intent as the mech charges them..! ..and is met with solid impact from the charge, as though it were trying to push through/over a small, huddled mountainous mass. Suffice it to say, the Sinistral pile does not move, creating instead a loud and metallic "scree!" from the impact; it is worth noting, at that time, Gades' sword, Amon's trident, and Daos' golden gauntlets have begun to glow a soft white each, as subtle as their individual smiles. And still, they do not retaliate.

More blood rolls from Gforte's nose as the lobstrocity's claws are raised high above it, and runes coat the mecha's weapons, albiet in a more dire form. He brings them down, his speakers roaring with his rage before they slam down. Among the rage, words can be heard. "NEVER. AGAIN. I WILL NOT FALL FOR NOTHING AGAIN. I WILL RIP YOU APART. I WILL DIE TO CRIPPLE YOU IF I HAVE TO."

As soon as the mecha's arms begin to raise, the ground rumbles underneath the lot of them; in the middle of the pile, a bright blue glow can be seen, as Erim's aura begins to shine out of the spaces between the other Sinistrals' openings around her.. and as the arms swing down, a massive chunk of earth is suddenly and destructively dislodged from underneath, attempting to carry up the mech high into the sky on an unorthodox platform of dirt, grass and rock!

Gforte stares down at the enemy, eyes widened in a glare of pure hate. He rides the momentum of the lobstrocity swinging it's claws down, plummeting the mecha into the air above the Sinistrals. His roars and battle cries fall silent as he does so, Gforte apparentally having given himself entirely to the battlefury.

Needless to say, the four Sinistrals do not merely stand there and wait to be pancaked; in a blur of motion, the four of them glide into a four-pointed shape around where the mech is expected to land, and without preamble or warning, the ground intended for this landing suddenly craters, sinking low into the earth in a wide and somewhat deep pit; rocks and torn-apart rootlings can be seen on either side of the magically-created pit, and though Gforte may not see it, the faces and arms of Daos and Amo

Amon have already been repaired, scarless and without flaw, and that their faces have garnered some acknowledgment of annoyance and aggravation. Everyone but Daos, that is; he still looks as calm as ever.

The lobstrocity's claws flick out like it's pilot was one with the machine, cratering and digging into the ground as they slam into the lip of the crater, though the metal making up the mecha gives off a dangerous noise as it does so. The lobstrocity's head fixes Gades as it attempts to pull itself from the hole, Gforte wiping the blood from his face as his mecha moves, although slowly.

Gades lifts his considerable, black-metal broadsword chest-high in preparation as the lobstrocity hauls itself out of the pit, raspy breathing heard from its helmet; a rattled, disheveled and slightly demonicor voice growls out from the mouthpiece. "Our lord Daos has permitted you to live, yet you throw his offer back in his face. Why you feel deserving of life now is arrogant beyond words, and even if my lord would grant you a second wind, I will do no such thing." He swings deeply in a horizontal slash, blade whistling as it cuts through the air toward the struggling mech!

Magic meets magic as Gade's sword strikes the Lobstrocity, though the blade bites nowhere near as deeply as it should have. Grinning, Gforte moves one of the mecha's claws up, seeking to take advantage of any confusion on the part of the warrior and trap his arms, or at least his weapon, inside one of the claws. At the same time, he sights Erim, and the lobstrocity continues to pull itself out of the hole.

Immediately behind the Lobstrocity, Daos is heard snorting in contempt. "My patience has begun to rapidly deteriorate. We weren't reborn to meddle in the affairs of the blindly arrogant; we need to recover the Dual Blade and restore the fortress. Erim, Amon, assist Gades in ridding us of this inconvenience. I will search the oceans of this realm for our fallen island." And no sooner does his monologue end than a dull flash of light marks his disappearance, whisking away in a mote of light across the rolling hills of Lorien toward the west.

At his command, Erim and Amon hold their respective tridents aloft, mutually calling down a terrifyingly-huge thunderbolt to strike down the Lobstrocity as it climbs out of the pit; the roar as it comes down is deafening to mortal ears, and they seem heedless of the fact that, comically, Gades' sword is still half-embedding in the mech.

Perhaps in additional comedy to add to the effect, Gades is (seemingly) helplessly grabbed by the Mech, unwilling to let go of his embedded weapon long enough to prevent this from happening. This, unfortunately, likely subjects him to the punishment that is streaking down from overhead, as well.

White noise fills Gforte's world as lightning strikes his mecha, and for a moment all of the systems falter. Through craftsmanship or blind luck however, they stay active as the Lobstrocity wrenches Gade's blade and the sinistral himself from it's body. Righting itself fully, Gforte gives Gades a squeeze before hurling him towards the hole the sought to trap him in earlier.

"A pity." The lobstrocity rounds, facing Erim fully as Gforte speaks once more. "I would have liked for him to see what happens next. Are you ready to ask me yet?"

Erim gazes coldly upon the mech in front of her, lowering her trident as an unseen wind whips her gown about her body, blue hair flowing in the breeze. "Since you seem poised to breathe your last at any given moment, I'll humor you. Given how much you seem to rely on your machinery, I will take a random guess and assume it has to do with some hidden function of that monstrosity that you assume myself not to be aware of." Gades is sent flailing behind the mech and into the pit, wordlessly disappearing into it before a resounding crash of metal-against-earth is heard underfoot.

On the other side of Erim (and the mech), Amon stands at the ready, pulling his trident in close and holding it against his chest, as if preparing for or bracing for something, though he says nary a word.

The lobstrocity's metal literally shivers as it moves forwards, flexing as if airing itself out as Gforte speaks. "Good girl, you'll do well thinking like that. Specifically, it's about what POWERS this 'monstrosity'. Normally, it uses an engine. I won't bother you with the details, but it's big." The mecha stops for a moment, and flexes it's claws, as if getting ready for something. "No. The important part are the backup systems. You see, I've always liked using reploid power cores to fuel something. Do you know why?" The mecha makes no moves at this point, meaning that there is a rare lull in Gforte's attacks as of so far.

Erim waits in silence, as though that were cue enough for Gforte to continue. Amon continues to hold himself at a prepared stance, but also makes no move otherwise. Gades, on the other hand, levitates himself out of the pit at this time, landing roughly on the ground next to Erim. He is pretty crunched up given the squeeze he received prior to being tosed, but his grip remains tightly on his broadsword, and despite all the dings and dents, he stands up to his full height. He pacifies, however, only holding his weapon at the ready but not attacking; Erim seemingly had some air of authority in Daos' absence, or so it seemed. "Our lord will be displeased if we linger, sister Erim." Gades' gravelly voice rattles out from his banged-up helmet. "We should end this; how much longer does he plan to prattle on? He's like a sick child that refuses to give in to the cold embrace of death."

Gforte laughs, a rasping laugh. "More than you know, idiot. I'm a dead man for more reasons than just fighting you, but no. Now you listen to me. Attend your 'lord' when this mortal dies, asshole. The important thing. The power source. Right now you might notice a green liquid seeping out of the bottom of my mech. That is what we in the trade call 'Coolant Fluid'."

The hatch to Gforte's cockpit opens, and the pilot can be seen inside, covered in his own blood for reasons, but holding a small black box and smiling, almost mockingly. His eyes however, display a spark of insanity. "Right now each core is wired in parallel, and each is without coolant. When powered on, they will begin a cascading failure. For your idiot friend back there, I can now turn this entire area into a nuclear holocaust, by pressing this button."

Gforte continues his mad smile. "You get to try and tell me one thing that makes me not want to blow you up. You, who the others are more than glad to be injured for. Even a fool can see it. You're important enough to die for. So why shouldn't your enemy kill you?"

Erim clears her throat. "Because you can't. Not this time. We've been through too many ill-fated attempts to be heedless of certain things, the major one in which you now find yourself folly to. You see, we've discovered that it is only the fool who discusses their plans and intentions, then provides their adversary with an opening. Which.." A sudden twinkle of light appears overhead, spreading out on all sides of the mech, with a foot or two's worth of space outward, and forming a translucent 'bubble' that does not prevent sound or sight. Light reflects off of its surface fluidly, and it wobbles gently. "..you have just done" Gades and Erim hold their weapons aloft, and Erim glows with a sinister blue aura. "Sacrifice yourself as planned, mortal. But go to your next life knowing that we offered you your life, and that it was you who threw it away."

Gforte looks calmly at the bubble, and laughs once, an increasingly sick sound. "The problem with runic. Too many uses and you start ripping yourself apart." Again, albiet hazily, runes carve themselves in the surface of the lobstrocity. "Something about removing energy. You never know." The same runes also coat Gforte's skin, though these are deeper, running angry red with spilled blood. He siezes for a moment, juddering as the anti-magic takes effect. "N-now. Let's see." The lobstrocity reaches out, it's claws moving to contact the 'bubble' surrounding it.

Erim holds her stony gaze intact, bracing herself. Her hard eyes reflect the warning she'd just given, perhaps implying something more to it. However, she doesn't offer this consolation to Gforte, and as the claw reaches out toward the bubble, Gades suddenly tenses, bracing himself...

But neither he nor Erim move. Nor Amon, for that matter. The look in their respect eyes show the wisdom of their mistakes in the past battles they have fought, and they seem all-too-focused on avoiding any future ones. The runes do not seem to faze Erim, but whether she knows what they are or not is anyone's guess. The bubble shimmers intermittenly, silently.

The runes covering the lobster fade, illformed as they were, and Gforte leans back in his chair, reduced to a bloodstained smile. "Oh? Traces of Fear? I am tired, Erim, so I will tell you what. Send these idiots away. You and I shall have perhaps a few final words, because face it. Look at me. I need no explosion to kill me, just a strong wind."

"I am no longer open to discussion. You have been granted reprieve more times than you deserve, and your time in this realm has come to a conclusion. I would thank you for wasting our time, but I am not in the mood for more sarcasm than you have already provided." With that, the bubble barrier surrounding Gforte suddenly flips and inverts, becoming a smaller bubble that envelopes... herself? She lowers her trident, gesturing; with a ghastly, spectral roar, Gades suddenly flings himself toward the mech and Gforte, massive broadsword catching flames as he furiously charges, swinging with reckless abandon!

Gforte doesn't bother even attempting to stop Gades assault, letting the sinistral cleave into the Lobstrocity with his massive blade. Instead, he gives Erim a tired smile, and presses the button. As if on cue, the Lobstrocity's head quite literally splits, clearing the air above Gforte as the underside of his pilot's chair lights on fire, and rockets up. Behind, in the shell of the mecha, the power cores all turn red for a brief moment before dissolving in a haze of heat.

Amon raises his trident, preparing for something, but Erim stops him, calling out from the confines of her bubble. "Let him go. He chose the path of cowardice, as we predicted. Few men willingly face their deaths head-on, and our task was only to see to this nuisance's conclusion, whether he perished or not. We should return to Daos and locate the fortress, so that we may return home."

Disgruntled, Amon lowers his trident, before a golden light envelopes him, transforming his body into a mote of light that streaks off toward the west. Gades, however, is not so lucky, having been caught in the center of the meltdown and disappearing within its confines, as Erim watches on briefly before she, too, is whisked away in a sudden trasnformation of blue light.

Leaving a charred, bare patch of earth behind in its wake, Gades is nowhere to be seen in the remainder of the mech's few remains, though a few blackened pieces of metal that don't specifically belong to the mech are seen on the scorched ground nearby.

The shockwave hits Gforte's escape chair with force, and it along with the still-burning rockets send him on an erratic course, mostly aimed at the ground. With a rough impact, the chair shatters on impact, ploughing a small trail in the ground and throwing Gforte's body a short distance away with a rather loud and nasty Crunch. The former knight doesn't move much after that, blood oozing from the rune-marks in his body being about the only thing moving on him.