Difference between revisions of "Snowtalon: Sacred World, Part IV"

The Tyrians trudged through the dystopic undercity of Kizameth. The dark magic storm had started to pick up - by this point it had started raining, the dark clouds having hovered in place over the great flying city. White Glint and his entourage of the Silver Lance scouted on ahead while the rest of the Tyrians made their way through the grim and grime of the lower city. While before, under the rule of a peaceful emperor and empress, the undercity was but a lower-to-middle class district, which was well kept and cleaned. But once it had fallen under Darkveil regime it become corrupted, a buzzing hive of hedonism and other unsavory acts.

However, this was not the end of additions. For a place so high-tech, and for a society with access to sophisticated machinery which could easily solve such heinous tasks for them, the Darkveils opted to use slave quarries for the people who were not affected by the control sigil at the top of the Obelisk. They were put to work in said quarries until they literally died from working too much, and thus had no further use for their corpses.

Sharilyn took the lead before turning the group to the corner. What laid before them was a long street covered by an overpass that was apart of the much more glitz and glamor overcity. However, at the very end of that street was a peculiar pit. What looked like a giant, mechanical pit, appearing with all sorts of shades of dark grey and mottled brown from the dirt. The space was absolutely enormous, encompassing dozens of football fields in size.

Breathing in amazement, Lyn mused. "God damn..."

"Slaves? The technodragons use slaves?" Selena stepped forward, gazing down at the scene.

"Only a tyrant would use such methods." Shir'ith stepped forward, shaking her head behind the helmet of her Sepentrion armor. She was clearly displeased at the development of the scene.

"Our mutual friend was very...straightforward with the objectives. Internment Center and Munitions Factory." Silver Blast remarked on the situation with the air that they should move on, rather than worry about the quarry.

Markus turned his head towards Silver Blast and retorted, "So, do we instead leave those people to be worked to death, then?"

Black Ice stepped forward. A cynical and jaded Liberavi, Ice was appropriately, cold and distant from others. "You heard him. And you will comply - we don't need to worry about a pack of worthless slaves."

Finally, White spoke. "Enough."

"Perhaps you should be a little more grateful for what my ancestor and my dad worked for? Freedom for ourselves, and for others?"

The group fell silent. Black Ice grunted, crossing his arms in disapproval. Silver Blast, Stone Grey and Crystal Echoes, the only female of the group, fell in line. Sharilyn stepped forth and looked over the quarry. As said, it was an increasingly large space with several guard outposts, barracks and even what looked like a vehicle depot nearby. The slaves' living quarters, though 'living' was a very loose word for how the Darkveils treated them, were on the far side of quarry, built into the walls.

The intense, terrifying rattling of Snow's autocannon pierced through the cacophony of gunfire and explosions going on in the Kizameth city center, just where the AVALANCHE tank had come to a rather spectacular crash. Sasha was on the roof engaged in hand-to-hand with a Tralonian Warmonger, while Snow held off Warrior-Servicemen with the aid of Illusionista and Mesira. Armory and Varulfr took to the roofs themselves to pick off the Rangers, and any Volants who tried their luck at making a bombing run on this crew of misfits.