Last week on Secret Weapons of the Empire, we covered the Angel-pattern Walkers. This week, we cover their arguable predecessor in Project Warden.
More commonly known as the Core Frame, the thin, spindly figure represented a radical departure from traditional Ferrum designs.
The inception came from a design request for a fast mech able to modularly mount weapons systems from other Special Warfare Projects in development, while retaining the ability to switch between those available for adaptation to a changing battlefield.
Mired in bureaucratic hangups and competition for scarce resources, the design was rewritten no less than 14 times before construction of a prototype was even started, continuously reworked to incorporate more and more cutting edge technologies.
This culminated in a 15th and final redesign under a new project lead, the visionary Dr. Anokhin. Incorporating a new experimental piloting interface proved a double-edged sword. Even in simulators, early testing of this Man-Machine interface showed the problems that would plague Wardens throughout their whole operational life.
Pilots would commonly report fatigue, nausea, vertigo, increased numbness or loss of feelings, and bloody noses upon disconnection from the simulator. Prolonged use could result in unconsciousness, stroke, seizures, or even death.
Nevertheless, promising results pushed Project Warden forwards, even expanding the project into three separate prototypes: a scouting and recon model, a trooper model, and a close assault model.
A mandate from the highest authority to prioritize and push something to the frontline in time for the next offensive forced the project to cannibalize the recon and close assault model in favor of the ‘trooper’ design. However, it took cues from the scrapped designs in the form of the fixed Predator Jamming array, and it often carried the close assault design’s Demon Claw into battle. The former piece of technology caused the iconic crackling over communications on combat recordings of the machine.
As work intensified on finishing the Warden prototype, information was leaked to the ASF, who executed Operation Dragoon, a deep-cover commando raid into the heart of the Empire. The raid was initially considered quite successful, destroying the underground facility and capturing several high-ranking scientists, including the aforementioned Dr. Anokhin, the prototype nevertheless had been completed and moved via underground rail transport before the attack was carried out, along with design plans.
The completed prototype, nicknamed ‘Beta’, would make its debut on the southern front as part of counter-raiding forces. A series of lightning deployments against the 3rd Allied Command and Home Sector Command would be the first live-fire tests, and the ‘Thin Man’, as nicknamed by soldiers, would swiftly gain a fearsome reputation.
In the land of Orrosta, the old gods are stirring once more. The wrath cycle, a never-ending war for control over the planet, starts anew. Drakkaru, (the god of dominion) thought to be dead by the other gods, is nearly free of the prison which has bound him for so long, and the Bellatists, (those who worship him), are gathering their strength. Cultists, full of hatred and malice, or perhaps simply stupidity, perform dark rituals of void, allowing for horrid creatures to escape their confinement. The horsemen of death and bloodshed ravage the land, leaving little but destruction. New elemental lords emerge, ready to consume the world. Yet, some good does stand. Mechaine (The god of machines, innovation and commerce), prepares the tin heads and men of iron, to strike out against the corruptive forces. Selene and the sons of Solantis work to uphold virtue and honor in the hearts of men. In this endless struggle, small forces can tip the balance. Can a ragtag group of adventurers discover the true nature of the world, and finally put an end to the wrath cycle? This is a very loosely structured sandbox adventure, set in a world of my making. The sky is the limit for what can be done. If you wish to join, just give me a brief overview of your character, and we can work to make it in line with the lore of the world. I intend to properly start in roughly 3 days, so ensure you submit a character before then if you want to join.
You are a SKELETAL MAW - a person (?) reincarnated as a monster in a fantasy world.
Initially spawning as a Bone Turtle, you have done quests and wandered the Deadlands, levelling up your skills and even evolving one time.
In more detail, in the previous thread you: >got acquainted with a reaper adventurer, Arthur, while dungeon-diving >got quests from a strange guiding voice to recover your memories >intervened in battles between a lich girl and her nemesis (2 times) >traded with a skeleton caravan >killed an undead tiger >looted some magical power crystals from various sources >put the undead of a border fortress to rest >killed a mad wizard on request from the reaper >agreed to assist a group of bone scouts (they're not made of bones, they're searching through bones for profit) in looting a secret treasury by protecting them from undead
Currently, you're with the scouts in the fortress where the portal to the secret treasury has been opened. And there are some monsters on the way for sure...
(I'm back and fixed all the technical problems <span class="mu-i">for now</span>. Let's roll.)
It has been 100 years since ancient beings, known as the Old Ones, walked the Earth with their two strong feet. Now they are gone and we animals now rule the remains that they left behind. With our new knowledge of sword and sorcery, we were able to survive in peace for a while, but then came the three factions. The Apes: Strong giants, claiming to be as just as the old ones and believe they should be the ones to rule over the new world. The Pigs: An intellectual but slothful group who wish to rule the world with an iron hoof and remain kings while the others remained as dumb animals. Then there the Lizards: A fast and large group that want to set the world a blaze. Trying to forget the harsh past that the old ones left. All three sides wishing to go war and destroy one another to bring in what they believe to be true peace. But, unbeknownst to everyone, there was another group. One that was trying their best to find a way to heal everyone. To bring back order. You found it.... and now you are taking care of it.
“Do you think you can help me? I’m not really bad, if I wanted to eat you I would!”
“You’ll eat me?”
“I mean, no, I meant that I can but won’t because I’m not a bad bug!”
Be it the bizarreness of the situation or his mind too tired to think, this made sense to Tobias. A normal tyranid would eat him by now. He stared at the yellow pupils, almost drawn into her eyes and face. The moon’s pale light accentuated the sharp angles of her nose and lips that resembled so close to a human.
“I’ll help you…”
“Really?”
A smile revealed the deadly maw of jagged fangs. Ninety-Nine’s tail wagged.
“Yes, where do you need to go?”
“I don’t know.” Ninety-Nine set Tobias down. She cupped her cheek as she pondered. “I’m not going to look so well when I come in… Where are we?”
“Sector Six.” Tobias said. “We’re close to Sector Five here.”
“Oh that’s where Stracken is!” Ninety-Nine cheered. “But he won’t recognize me without any armor…”
“I can go back by myself.” Tobias offered. “I’m certain you will be shot moment you are seen, and I will be as well since they will assume I am under your control.”
>I’ll follow you until you get to Sector Five, I’ll wait at the entrance. I’ll hide if I see anyone. >I can wait here >Write-in
Additional choice (optional)
>“I wouldn’t really eat you by the way… you have pretty eyes that’d be a waste.” [Face check] >“I wouldn’t really eat you by the way… Not that I think you’ll taste bad but I like having you here.” [Face check]
You are Noel Tiberius, the reigning warrior-queen of Hazaran. This is very much not Hazaran.
The community you have found yourself in is one small part of the main continent, far enough from your homeland that its existence could be hidden from you for centuries. Five half-blooded warriors like yourself have come here with you as a show of strength and solidarity, along with eight Hazari infantrymen as a token ‘honor guard’. There can be no doubt as to your status, since even on the continent nobody seems to wear crowns set with almond-sized precious gems aside from you. And none carry any visible weaponry, let alone swords nearly as long as they are tall.
That’s probably one reason why when Leto Aristo, mayor of the port town of Kirkines – where you’ve found yourselves – listened to you when you politely insisted that he take you to his leader. He quite simply doesn’t know what to make of you even after you explained who you are. Almost everything about you must be absolutely foreign to his worldview, and so instead of trying to figure you out for himself, he’s chosen to hand off responsibility for whatever you turn out to be.
“At least the food is nice,” Aurora muses, nibbling at one of a few dozen identical baked crackers, topped with thin slices of firm white cheese and what seems to be a jam made from fig. “Very tasty.”
With a little bit of spice added, even your mother seems to appreciate the gesture, and washes her light snack down with an incredibly clear ruby-red wine. “It seems the production methods are quite different here.”
True, the crackers in particular point to mass production of such specialty foods. Where you come from fine bakeries can aspire to some uniformity, but this goes a clear step further than that. The men – and two women – also seemed to appreciate being brought something to eat despite being relegated to sitting outside the room where you and your fellow warriors will be meeting with a figure standing above Leto Aristo in continental politics.
That man soon makes his appearance. His clothing is very much like the three-piece jacket and waistcoat combination which seems to be the norm for men in this community, albeit more finely tailored and with buttons made with fine horn rather than some obviously fake imitation. You rise from your seat to greet him, make a little gesture to prompt Salem to do the same as the last straggler, then just as quickly return to your seat.
“So, mayor Aristo tells me you’re claiming to be some sort of queen,” the man in the nice suit muses, walking to a seat opposite from you across a low table. He produces a pipe from a pocket in his coat before setting the jacket over the back of the stuffed chair and taking a seat. “May I hear your introduction for myself, please?” >1/2
The world is shadowed in misery. The two dark humors that rule mankind are Fear and Hunger. Journey with us, guide your weary body through the winds and chattering teeth of the dungeons, lose yourself to the macabre, you dancer of shadows.
What seemed to be the calm before the storm has become a different type of natural disaster. Casually introducing Crossbill to your friends and family has rapidly evolved into a Family Reunion, a wide Agency meeting, and a random recruitment session. The actual heist you were planning on doing is on the back burner for now.
After Chio’s unfortunate relapse, she was brought back to her room with your stupid ass portrait placed on the wall. Collectively, you all decided to move it there because she loved it! In fact, her devotion was so great that she kicked everyone out of her room except for Wilma to spend time ‘alone’ with it. You never thought you’d be overshadowed by your own portrait, but here you are.
Even if initially this meeting with Punk-P was meant to be serious from beginning to end, she ended up appreciating the turmoil, and didn’t mind how the events unfolded. Not having to look at it on the wall must’ve been a plus.
That doesn’t mean that this tomato duo is out of the equation, no, Chio wants to have a talk with everyone involved. She wants them to come to her room in pairs. Ones she designed. Just a friendly exchange of words, maybe words of gratitude…
Crossbill and Yu Yan are more than satisfied by what their mysterious box accomplished.
...
<span class="mu-s">Who shall be sacrificed?</span>
>Yu Yan and Crossbill. It was their idea! >Nariko and Amelia. You already spent some time with them! >Write In.
<span class="mu-s">Pumpkin is here! What now?</span>
>Have a serious 1-on-1 conversation with your star talent. One of. >Let the surviving pair join the talk. It’s the preamble before the Meeting. >Tell Pumpkin you can talk in the Kitchen while you cook some Chicken Wings for Huge Irma. >Write In.
Welcome boys and girls to the beginning of a new fantasy quest, one where investigations will be even more important to solving your problem than violence and power. Ultimately the methods will be up to you and I do apologize in advance if the opening feels a bit stiff because we've got a big handful of character customization to go through...
For general communication outside the thread, see this twitter https://x.com/TaleOfMonsters I'll try my best to update once every two days at a minimum until I unrust, then once a day will be a good pace.
“Why not?” —she squinted— “he’s a scout; why else would he be in the skies here alone? He was not. Should we let him go, the Demon King will know our whereabouts.”
You turned to Mwaus, his clawed hands continuing to wave around, bewildered as to why the Nettle Harpy was not responding in kind.
“I don’t think he remembers anything of his task, even if he was sent out to scout out the place,” you whispered. “Right now, he’s convinced that he’s the Demon King’s sole heir. We can make use of this.” Seeing Miranna lift an eyebrow, you added, “I don’t desire the Demon King’s throne. Once all the Generals and the King are dealt with, we shall let this demon have it.”
Miranna’s ashen lips silently shaped the words: ‘Are you kidding?’
“He’s an imp, hero! Or might as well be one,” she craned her neck, the tangled of white, messy hair veiling to cover her ears and forehead. “Do you have any notion of the chaos he could unleash with such powers? Or how the other demons might react?” As you reached to shed the wings, Miranna grasped your shoulders. “Think again, hero! Imagine the power you could wield as the Demon King, ruler of all?”
“Miranna,” you said, staring deep into her inflamed eyes. “It’s not what I want. You promised to regard my wants. The prophecy doesn’t mention the throne.”
“And yet!—“
“We aren’t crowning him today, you realise? It’s going to take a while. We’ll have ample time to prepare him,” you said, tendering a reassuring smile. “Unless … Miranna, you’d want the throne for yourself? Sure, if you wish—“
Grimacing, the Nettle Harpy retracted her talons and spread them wide before her. “Not I, hero. Being trapped in Banefroth, with every imp, demon, hound, and spirits needing something from me, no matter how trivial and annoying. I’d go crazy with all the responsibilities,” she said. “I’m content where I’m now.”
“Where you were.” You reminded, scratching at your ear. “For the prophecy not to harm -you-, I’ll have to rename your new title, perhaps a Demon Lord?” you asked. “Neither you or I desire the burdensome role. We shall leave it to him.”
“What are you two talking about!?” Mwaus walked between you, like a neglected child forgotten by his parents. Blood dripped from a fresh claw mark on his hand.
Miranna eyes fluttered in annoyance. You cleared your throat.
“I promised to cook you a proper roasted hare, didn’t I? Let me keep my promise.”
Mwaus pressed his other hand to hide the gash. “The human shall prepare us a meal? Do so, then. And see that it is impeccable, I’ll accept nothing less.”
Miranna grabbed Mwaus by the back of his collar, dragging him violently off the ground. Her irises sizzled like red coals until only flaming dots remained.
