War of the Races(IC)

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Tenax had only just arrived in the town the prior night. He had made a day of shopping for some supplies before wandering the streets. Odd how the streets were empty this night. Usually, places like this are bustling far into the night. His movements led him down one street, an unfamiliar group manifesting odd magical powers. He took little note of it, though as he approached, they mentioned something about a job. Deciding that it was not overly private considering the venue, the large Sobekian walked straight up. Compared to even the towering human, Tenax was massive. He had a foot on the man and was built broadly. At his waist was the hanging scizore. His back had the aspis strapped to it. Red eyes looked down upon the group as he heard talk of royalty. In his deep, gravely voice, he made his own introduction. "I am Tenax, Sobekian from the Anubian City of Iron. You may know me as the bogeyman, the Swamp Reaver. I hear you are offering work. I offer my services, for a price."

He made no aggressive moves, though he adopted a posture ready to react to aggression. He normally avoided mentioning his title, but for jobs it tended to net him work easily. It is much easier to state qualifications as a bogeyman than as a retired mercenary. Most of his references were dead anyway.
 
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PROPERTY OF STERNFORD TECHNOLOGIES
SMART-COM v9.4

preparing systems check..............
[ALL SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL]

hibernation mode maintained for [4] days [8] hours...

connecting to mainframe..............
[ERROR MAINFRAME NOT FOUND]

resuming hibernation mode

...
...

preparing systems check..........
[MINIMAL DAMAGE TO MINOR RUNTIMES]
[REPAIRS REQUIRED]

hibernation mode maintained for [19] years [5] months [22] days [7] hours...

connecting to mainframe............
[ERROR MAINFRAME NOT FOUND]
[STATUS REPORT OVERDUE] [CONTACT MAINFRAME IMMEDIATELY]

resuming hibernation mode

...
...

preparing systems check..........
[WARNING DAMAGE DETECTED IN MAJOR SYSTEMS]
[MAJOR SYSTEM RESTRUCTURING REQUIRED]

hibernation mode maintained for [954] years [11] months [18] days [22] hours...

Connecting to mainframe............
[ERROR MAINFRAME NOT FOUND]
[STATUS REPORT OVERDUE] [CONTACT MAINFRAME IMMEDIATELY]

resuming hibernation mode

[WARNING BATTERY AT 30%]

...
...

[WARNING BATTERY AT 15%]

hibernation mode maintained for [&@#(*@_!#*@#&^] years [########] da{DATA CORRUPTED}

[WARNING MAJOR SYSTEM DAMAGE DETECTED]
[WARNING MAJOR RUNTIME DAMAGE DETECTED]
[WARNING]
[WARNING]

exiting hibernation mode...
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IMCU - 347 clawed its way through stone, dirt, roots, and occasionally millennial old concrete. The internal computer serving as its brain flashed red warning after red warning in 347's digital mind's eye. It clawed and dug for hours, but 347 did not feel fear. Only the urgency its programming told it to feel. The combat unit's inhuman mechanical strength pulled thick tree roots like a child would tear grass roots as it neared the surface. A few more strokes and sunlight pierced through the dirt. The unit climbed out of its hole and was only blinded for a nanosecond as its visual sensors instantly adjusted. Audio detectors picked up the chirping of birds and wind rustling the leaves on trees. Sunlight beamed through the canopy and the entire forest was a green and white light show. The unit didn't pay much attention to it, however. Small panels on its head slid back and solar panels recharged it with sunlight. Its battery was state of the art. One of Sternford Corp.'s best. It had the life expectancy of a reactor with the ability to recharge through various methods. While it stood there, 347 ran a quick diagnostic of its damages. Results were not good.

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weapon systems.... [OFFLINE]
defensive systems.... [55% EFFICIENCY]
data analysis systems.... [ONLINE]
threat detection systems.... [ONLINE]
communication systems.... [OFFLINE]
analog communication systems.... [35% EFFICIENCY]
sensory systems.... [79% EFFICIENCY]

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The list went on and on. 347 had thousands of programs and processes that ran it. Several of them were damaged. A lot were completely offline. It would need repairs. Thankfully, 347 had the essentials running. And they were already picking things up.
The unit detected two lifeforms, behind it and crouched in a bush. It turned to look for them, perhaps they could take him to a place where he could be fixed. As soon as he finished turning, an arrow ripped through the air and broke on 347's titanium chest. Even if the arrow had been a .50 caliber round, it wouldn't have gone through. 347 was designed to withstand a direct hit from a missile launcher; an arrow wouldn't do much. However, the arrow's shooter had other things in mind. An elf, realizing he'd been seen, scurried out of the bush and up a tree. He fired more arrows, shouting something in a language 347 confirmed was not English. His partner charged with a spear.
347's threat detection still worked, but it didn't need this to figure things out. Both his attackers were instantly flagged as hostile. In light of this, 347 responded with the default response to an aggressor that had been programmed into him. The voice 347 came pre-installed with was a calm, male voice. It was chosen in because it both went with the idea of a soldier, and because a calm voice meant that orders and commands given vocally to organics would be easier to understand.

"Cease and desist. Aggression towards this unit will result i-"

The spear ran into his chest, but failed to pierce the metal. It bent and nearly snapped with the force of its user's thrust. The unit would have fought back, but its weapons were offline. Instead, evasive maneuvering processes kicked in and 347 ran. He dodged and zig-zagged into the forest. He wasn't chased, but one or two more arrows managed to break themselves and bounce off his back. The unit ran and ran until it figured it was alone. Now it just had to figure out what to do.

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That had been 26 days ago. Now, 347 wandered the markets of Minjula wearing a dusty old brown rag. The rag had been big enough to use a cloak after 347 figured people would attack him on sight. It was the kind of cloak that was worn by someone or something that didn't care about appearances too much. Had it been a drone, 347 would've tried to fight back despite lacking weapons. The perks of sentience and free choice came in unexpected ways. Like a brown rag. The unit had been wandering the market for days.

The first day it was here, 347 stood in the middle of this market for hours and listened to the crowd. It recorded thousands of audio strings of people talking in order to learn these languages it did not understand. It broke down each sting and analysed the linguistics of each segment. Over the course of a day, 347's data analysis software was able to decode and learn three new languages. One seemed to be the most common, with the other two apparently being the native tongues of the bulky green creatures (apparently named "orcs") and the short stocky individuals (eventually flagged as "dwarves").

Today, he tried to look around for anything that might help him find the rest of his production line. On his HUD, his damaged routing program tried to configure a way through the crowd. The damaged process highlighted a path on his HUD, then deleted it and highlighted a new one. As soon as 347 began to follow it, it did it again. In their prime, the IMCU model line was able to shoot a target in the middle of a crowd without hitting anyone except the target. They'd been that precise. Now, 347 bumped and pushed around a crowd. More than once, he knocked something over.

He ran into an orc and knocked over a crate of rum he'd been carrying. The orc turned to punch the hooded figure and hit it square in the back. There was a loud metallic thunk and the orc pulled his hand back and started swearing at his ringing knuckles. By the time the orc worrying whether he might have broken his wrist, 347 had been lost in the crowd again. It was at this moment that 347 picked up the signal.

Each member of the IMCU model line had been installed with a long-lasting signalling device. These were installed in case any units were ever lost or destroyed. The remains would continue to transmit a very short ranged signal to other units. The transmitter was powered by the same batteries as the rest of the body, but took up a minuscule percentage of power. Even if disconnected from the battery, the signal was so small and weak that it could continue to automatically transmit for years. Eventually it would weaken and die off, but Sternford Corp.'s technology was built to last. It may have lasted a little longer than they anticipated, but they'd spared no expense. There was a reason each IMCU would have sold for over 600 million dollars per unit. Only the richest, most powerful governments would be clients, but Sternford believed it'd be worth it. In a way, it sort of was.

The signal 347 picked up was weak. Nearing the end of its life span weak. Long range communication was a bust for 347, but short range barely scraped by. It wasn't easy, but eventually the unit found the source of the signal. Some kind of caravan was set up near the eastern city gate, and least 347's internal compass said it was east. The signal was coming from that caravan. Its owner was off speaking with someone, a pale woman and one of the "orc" creatures. They seemed to be displaying signs of aggression, something that would create a window of opportunity for 347. The signal was definitely one of the IMCU's. So he struck.

Unit number 347 ignored its faulty processing and pushed and shoved its way through the crowd rather than try to weave through it like before. The signal ahead of it was the most important thing in the world right now. It pushed people larger than itself aside with inhuman, robotic strength and carelessness brought on by the nearby goal. It burst from the crowd, ran up to the caravan and began to throw crates and items left and right, searching for the source of the signal. It heard people exclaim and sensors picked up threats, so it looked faster. When 347 found what it was looking for, it didn't know what to feel, or whether to feel at all. In its hands, 347 held the head of another IMCU model. Number 345. One of the units that had been with him on the day the bombs fell and they lost contact with their mainframe. The white numbers were still etched into the side of the mechanical skull.

The threats began to close in, so the time for examination would have to be rescheduled. The unit turned and ran with astonishing speed into an alleyway, conscious to avoid crowds as they'd slow him down against dedicated pursuers. The unit felt it could outrun its attackers, but if GPS systems still worked, it would have seen it ran into an alley that ended in a dead end.

347 stood facing the wall boxing it in and turned to face its pursuers. In the run, 347's hood had fallen off, revealing his robotic nature. It held the severed head of number 345 close to its chest and backed into a corner like a frightened animal. It could not see a way out, and followed its default options since it had no other choice.

"Cease and desist. Aggression towards this unit will result in defensive action."[/WARNING][/WARNING]
 
Ysir turned to the croc that labeled himself as 'Swamp Reaver'. A name he heard floating around, but didn't make much of it. He nodded and even said there was a reward for getting the cargo through the Ruined Peaks. He then proceeded to tell the group that the reward involved anywhere from a meager 50 gold coins to a bag of 300 gold coins depending on the value of the cargo. Then he saw his guard staring in the distance and when he followed the man's gaze, Ysir's eyes widen,"Shit. Looks like a army is on the move."

While he gazed, screams and shouts could be heard. Ysir heard something digging through his cargo and he whipped around, fire blade at the ready. Ysir saw what appeared to be a low-life beggar digging through his goods. Ysir yelled at the beggar to stop, but it refused to. At first he thought it was deaf perhaps until he noticed it begun to dig faster until he pulled out a head. The head of the main cargo. If he lost that to a blasted beggar then his repuation would falter.

"STOP LOW LIFE!" Ysir roared. He and his guards leaped at it, but with inhumane speed it stormed through the empty streets.

"Damned thing must be using a speed spell!" A guard yelled. He and the other guard began chasing after it while Ysir turned to the others.

"That thief just stole the cargo and without it the reward had just been reduced. If we can retrieve it then I'll double the reward."

Meanwhile, the two guards had chased the beggar into a alley way. They tighten their grip on their spears readying to impale it and slowly they marched. When the beggar beggar turned, they saw metal gleaming and the...the thing spoke. It sounded as if it had no soul much like a demon they heard in those horrifying stories. Those demons varied in size and power. Some flew, others walked, but all were powerful and deadly. And now they were facing one.

"DEMON! Lie down your arms and turn yourself in or we will attack!" A guard demanded. Both of them crouched into a low stance and held their spears at length to keep the demon away from them.

Meanwhile, back at the Summer's Warmth, Ezio had finished the last of his ale and had talked with Evann. The two caught up on times and shared a few jokes and stories. One story involved fighting a giant, mutated panda that had been terrorizing a dwarf mining shaft. The miners there described it as a giant demon while Evann compared it to more of a lost child. Simply got lost its mum and got hungry so the bear found its way into the mining shaft. Evann escorted the panada out to find its mum. Happy ending for everyone.

"And so, I told the owner not to allow your miners to bring in food while they work!" Evann banged his mug on the counter.

Ezio grinned and was about to reply when the doors were busted open. He looked over to see that a young human male with glossy black hair and trimmed beard was heaving. The man wore a simple green tunic with the symbol of a raven stitched on his chest labeling him as a courier. When the man had gathered his breath, he looked at everyone in the Inn, eyes dilated in fear.

"War is coming! The armies of the Alliance and the Pact are coming here!" The man shouted causing a flurry of curses and partons jumping up to run. Even if there was no ring of truth, they wouldn't take the chance.

Ezio frowned. That would mean that Evann was his enemy officially.

"Well my friend, it would appear that we're enemies from this point on," Ezio sadly stated. He opened his arms and Evann embraced him in a hug. After a few tearful moments, Ezio felt Evann's hands patting his sides."Evann, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Evann said defensively. He still patted Ezio's side and then proceeded to his rear pockets.

"Damn it Evann, your gold addication is going to get you killed one day!" Ezio growled. He pushed the wannbe dwarf thief away.

"Aw, come on. It is supposed to be a gesture of friendship where I come from!"

"Oh, a gesture to settle your mead addiction?" Ezio stared. Evann nervously stroked his long beard.

The dwarf finally apologized after what felt like an eternity of staring. The two exchanged their final goodbyes and wished each other the best of luck. Perhaps one day they would meet again in the more peaceful times and not in the fires of battle.

Ezio followed the stream of people already trying to flee the city. Even the city's guards were throwing away their weapons as they ran for all the gates expect the Eastern one. He struggled to get there with all the shoving and pushing. When Ezio fell down after what felt like an panicking orc climbed over him, he summoned a lighting bolt to scare away people. Ezio would arrive just in time to see that someone in a heavy cloak running away from Ysir's guards. Damn it.
 
Sharda was going to like this group. The decided to reveal a bit of her magic, as did Ysir. Sharda kept to herself but couldn't help but smiling. Both of these people were arrogant as heck, revealing their powers so early on. Perhaps they had more in store than that, but it still showed Sharda that the both were easy to provoke. The girl introduced herself as Princess' Karaki Shizuku, which would explain her eyes. Not that it really mattered to Sharda; to the wilds it didn't matter if you were royalty or a servant, death comes to everyone. And the same would apply to the bandits of Ruined Peaks.

"Sharda Vorinclex. The Ruined Peaks is home to me, not that I'm particularly fond for the vermin that plague it. Don't worry, if we run into any Techno Union or Warrior Kings, I won't hesitate to cut them down. They made their choice of being our enemies."

Shortly after her introduction a crocodile man by the name of Tenax arrived. He introduced himself with a bunch of titles as though they were suppose to impress them. Maybe they did, but it certainly didn't for Sharda. For one she didn't know the guy, and none of his names were familiar to her. So he was blowing hot air for all it's worth. And that's when things got exciting.

Without warning, a cloaked figure ran into Ysir's caravan, and as quickly as it came, it ran off. Sharda didn't need to be told to act; as soon as it came Sharda bolted after it. If it wasn't so quickly she figured she could have tackled it to the ground, but by the time she lundged for it it was already on the run. But Sharda wasn't about to let it get away either. She, along with Ysir's guards, chased it down to an alley way. When it turned to face them Sharda knew it was a machine. No human could run that fast, and only a careless thief would were metal boots if he's trying to be sneaky. While Ysir's guards ordered the robot to surrender, Sharda had other ideas.

Life at the Ruined Peaks taught her how to deal with robots when she needs to bring them back for study, instead of deconstruction. Pulling a can-sized object from her bandolier she lobbed it over the robot. It didn't even hit the ground before it exploded in an orb of electrical energy; A pulse grenade. It's suppose to be used to shut down machines without causing physical damage, though Sharda was caught in the blast of one of those before and she could attest, it hurts like hell. Not as much as being hit with a bolt of lightning, but nothing to scoff at, and would hopefully bring the robot into a world of hurt.
 
Tenax growled loudly when the thief stole something that he was soon to guard. He pursued as well, though his reaction when he saw it cowering was very much sentimental and sympathetic when compared to those around him. Before he got a chance to do anything, the dumb orc lobbed a grenade at the poor thing. Damn it. They are either demons or experiments. Something that reacted to stimulus like that has to be sentient! "You fucking idiots! It obviously thinks and reacts." He slammed through the people in front of him as he spoke, ending up taking the brunt of the grenade as he attempted to shield the robot from most of the blast. He did get some, but he got not nearly enough. It did, however, activate his power. His red eyes began to glow like fires. The space between his scale started to glow and smoke. His body grew a couple inches. His voice obtained a slight echo.

He turned to the crowd, adopting a stance just as aggressive as the guards. "If any of you are going to continue to be stupid, then come close so I can end your ignorance. This superstition has grown too old for society." His attitude reflected an attitude most Sobekians and Anubians held towards the myths of other races. For such advanced creatures, they sure jumped to conclusions about demons, evil, and violence far to readily. His tail lashed behind him, his glare centered directly upon Ysir. Perhaps seeking a job from this human was not the best idea after all. He couldn't even be trusted to look at a situation.
 
Just after the explosion occurred, that crocodile man from before went to shield the robot with his body. Sharda had no idea what he was doing, but when she heard him sprout something about them being stupid, she had a vague idea of why he did what he did. "Acht, you're one of those people, aren't you? Do you try to save the lives of every thief on the street?" Sharda herself didn't really care for the life of the robot. Live or die it didn't bother her. But she did need to bring that thing he stole back; if she didn't they they wouldn't get their full reward. Sharda drew The Terror from her back as she suspected that Tenax wasn't going to budge. "If you care about the robot's well being, than ask it to return what it stole. I'll let you and everyone else deal with the robot afterwards."
 
As soon as the grenade was in the air, 347's threat detection flagged it as a pulse grenade. While 347 was EMP shielded (the reason he and his squad didn't shut down from the nuclear bombs' electromagnetic aftereffects) a pulse grenade at such short range would still cause some minor damage. As previously mentioned, Sternford Tech had spared no expense. Normally, a pulse grenade, especially one as jury rigged as the one thrown, wouldn't be a problem. In its current state, however, 347 couldn't afford any more damage. It prepared to make a break for it by running between the two guards, but one of the aggressors stepped in front of the grenade.

At first, 347 did not understand. A pulse grenade would not harm organic beings except with minor lacerations due to fragmentation. Even more perplexing was the fact that this creature had been marked as hostile and had no reason to protect him. Yet it did. The "orc" creature seemed upset by this role violation. Yet, the unit's situation still hadn't changed, it was still cornered. It glanced down at the 345's head. It was identical to 347's head aside from the different number on the side.

If 347 had learned it could wish it had its weapons, it would have wished hard. Instead, it waited and analysed the situation. The crowds in the street seemed to be agitated. If a window of opportunity arose, 347 might have a chance to lose them in the crowd. Of course, he'd get lost in the process as well, but at least these pursuers would too.
 
Hearing the orc entirely misunderstand his speech served to make Tenax only assume she was barely a cut above the mob she stood within. Unfortunate, she might have had potential. He dropped his shield along his plated arm, his hand deftly looping through the strap and catching the handle. His other hand ripped the scizore from its binding and flipped it up, catching it. His hand grasped the inner handle as his mouth pulled the shield's strap tight. "You misunderstand my motives. I couldn't give less of a shit about the cargo. I haven't been hired. I do give a shit about the obviously intelligent robot you people are treating like a base monster. If you all stand down, I will too. Until then, anything you do that is hostile to it is hostile towards me."

He turned his body, settling the shield against his shoulder. His body crouched low, shielding the robot from view as the aspis protected his, and by extension, its body. He wasn't going to let anyone treat another like a monster. He was already a monster to many, so he wished it upon no one, man or machine. Besides, he needed a good way to display his powers to the others.
 
Ysir had given chase once the orc went on. He had arrived just as Sharda and Tenax were arguing. However, their petty argument didn't concern him. What concerned him was that a robot from the Age of Fire was holding the head similar to its own. It also looked like it was looking for a way out. He shoved the guards to the side and a blob of green formed in his hands. He tossed it over the two and it exploded above the robot. Threads of green stuck to it. The threads also hardened faster than anyone could react and once again he stomped passed the orc stopping just in front of Tenax.

"It would appear we have a creature from the Age of Fire and if you know your history, man created beings made of metal. Now, it is understandably that the machine might have gone after the cargo for some reason, but in the end it is a thief. My guards have no idea what a robot is so they mistook it as one of those demons from the stories. Now, if you move aside I wish to speak with the robot."
 
Sharda shook her head. This Tenax had strange priorities. Sharda was about to activate The Terror when Ysir arrived, using some sort of spell that entangled the robot. Sharda had seen the druids of Ruined Peak use similar spells, but used to make tree roots hold their their prey. The caravan master noted the origins of the robot, and only now did Sharda notice that the "cargo" it stole looked a lot like it's head. Another misunderstanding, but also another potential conflict. Sharda made her thoughts clear on what she thinks is going on.

"So, boogeyman, you think this is a hate crime? No. I wouldn't care less if it was a robot or a human that stole the cargo. I'm just here to take back what rightfully belongs to it's original owner. Now I don't know who that robot is or why it did what it did, but that doesn't justify it's actions. You would stand in the defense of a thief, and willingly slay anyone who would come to try to reclaim what he stole. Does that sound about right?"
 
Tenax growled lowly but stepped patiently to the side for Ysir. "You will do no more than speak." He noticed that the robot was holding a head of what appeared to be the same type of model. As such, the comment that Sharda made about rightful owners became a moot point to him. "Orc, if it found one of its kind, then this is not property of anyone. It is a corpse. No one may claim a corpse rightfully save family and next of kin. This robot appears to be next of kin, so this head should rightfully be given to it. That makes sense, does it not, princeling?" To add only specifically for Sharda, he elaborated on his stance. "I would slay only those who approached with malice to harm the robot. I do not condone theivery, but there has been no thievery, simply kin finding kin."
 
"And how was this being of metal made I wonder? It would have taken a certain brilliance to make such things," Ysir said. He left the statement hung in the air for Tenax to ponder."Being made from metal, I assume this is a friend or comrade of yours?" Ysir made sure to stay in front of the ignorant croc. How much knowledge did these mutants even have about the Ages?

Meanwhile, Ezio stayed behind the group watching. He was less concerned with their damn bickering and more worried about two giant armies about to start humping each other for cake. However, Ezio knew if he tried to defuse the situation things would only get worse and if he outright states that there is going to be a siege then there was no telling what would happen. Though, the group probably figured something was amass given the screaming masses of bodies stampeding through the night time streets.
 
Sighing, Sharda figured that she'd let Ysir handle this one. A battle of morality isn't really something she has interest in participating in, and from the sound of the stomping echoing towards the city, a larger, much less debatable battle about to occur. Putting The Terror back on her back Sharda called out to Ysir. "Looks like your client's organization has arrived, Ysir. If there's still a job to be had, I'll meet you by the east gates. But I'm not going to be here once this town starts burning down." As fun as it'd be to join a big battle like what's about to go down, Ysir wanted to enjoy the freelance life a little bit longer. Once the war has begun in earnest, perhaps she'd return home and see what use her family will have with her.
 
Number 347 would have begun to panic if he knew he was capable of it. More and more people were beginning to show up and the stand-off between the "orc" and the crocodile creature hadn't ended. The unit defaulted once again to the only thing it could think to do right now. It's calm voice was a clear contrast to the situation.

"Cease and desist. Further aggression will result i-"

For a second time, 347 was interrupted. This time by strange vine-like growths snaking out from over it. It had never seen things like this and by the time its software told it these vines weren't good for it, they had already begun to restrain it. The machine struggled against them at first, pulling at the vines. His mechanical strength snapped a few of them loose, but they grew too quickly and hardened too rapidly for 347 to keep it up. The disembodied head of 345 was now pressed against its titanium chest by both its arm and now the vines.
 
"I see the spell is working perhaps too well, but once again I'll ask you. Was this your friend or comrade machine?" Ysir asked again. He then heard what Sharda said and cursed. He should have just went out sooner, rumors of war were buzzing, but he spent his time trying to collect mercs. Ysir didn't have much time, if he didn't get the cargo out soon then they would have little chance of escape. If they were picked up by the Alliance they would be safe expect for those who allied themselves with the Pact. If the Pact found them then there would be no telling what they would do.

"Machine, we nay have a moment. I need your cooperation to help all of us survive!"
 
It took a moment for 347 to respond in this new language. Its programming couldn't figure a way out, and the IMCU's weren't really designed for extended social interaction, but 347 had little choice.

"This unit it IMCU model number 347. The designation of the piece in my possession came from IMCU model number 345. My current objective is to retrieve or reunite with any IMCU models."

347 paused again. It processed the request for cooperation for a few seconds. Throughout the endeavor, befriending the enemy forces hadn't been an option.

"I will cooperate if all hostile forces cease their hostilities. And if I am allowed to examine number 345."

The unit's way of speaking was odd and very technical, but socializing wasn't part of the design plan.
 
"Well, the orc turned tail and I can keep my guards on a leash. The croc seems more interested in trying to defend justice rather than see logic, but an honorable attempt. Anyways, for 345 I'm afraid that is up to my lord's decision, though you can examine it while we travel. Just don't damage it." Ysir accepted the conditions. He snapped his fingers and the threads begun to simmer. They broke apart easily.

"And I suggest we stomp out now unless you want to get penetrated by a dozen pointy ends!" Ezio yelled. He still maintained his cool despite the mass of bodies behind him.
 
Shizuku was confused by the whole affair. In all her wanderings through Kamshar, she had never encountered one of these machine things before, and now she'd seen three in the course of just one evening. When the orc left, she took the opportunity to disappear too, following the creature towards the gate. "Any idea what those things are? You seem to be familiar with ways of dealing with them, though. Are they more common in the orc lands? I can't say I've ever seen one before."
 
On the way to the east gate Shizuku the Koroshi princess finally showed up. Sharda forgot about her in all the action and wondered what she would have done if that scuffle turned into a fight. She seemed unfamiliar about robots, though Sharda supposed that she shouldn't be too surprised. Ruined Peaks are very clingy to their robots, just like any other race with technology. "They're robots. Think... Puppets, but made of metal. They don't need people to control them most of the time, but a lot of them were built before the Age of Fire. Ruined Peaks is well known for having things like robots hidden in their lands. Most of them are broken, and those that I have found are malfunctioned. They have a tendency of doing stupid things like attacking me or, like that robot from before, stealing things without even explaining why. They're interesting, but it's hard to admire them when they do stuff like that."

The two girls eventually reached the east gate and surprisingly enough nothing else from the caravan was stolen, even though no one was there to guard it. But the war horns of the two armies grew ever nearer, and Sharda was debating if she should simply leave now. "Damn, didn't think that they'd start fighting so soon. Let's hope your people are ready for war, Princess. I'd imagine that the world is going run red before long."
 
Shizuku listened to the war horns, one from each side of the town. It was a strange place to pick for a fight, she thought, but that's wasn't any of her business. "I'm more worried about your people. They don't have mountains to hide under." Once again, the horns sounded, one after another. This time they seemed louder, as if they were vying for dominance even before the battle had begun. She turned back to the alley they had come from. "Oi, Ysir. I imagine we ought to get going. It's gonna be a nightmare to escape once the fighting starts."
 
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