The Twilight Of The Gods

Hrrrhhh... Where is he?

—Magnar cast the fellow back down to Earth; meanwhile, some of the Danes nearby had started to throw together a stew from some of the abandoned tubers and rabbits they had found and hunted. —

Fawful had spent the last few minutes deep in thought as he came up with some plans.

"You have luck of Fawful's presence. I have once had the overtake of the stronghold of the singularly most powerful King in the world of my home! ....Hmm. Have you knowings of the routes that are used by the merchants of travelling?"

He- he hasn't moved yet, I left Ulf with him.

-The soldier runs back to the berserker's holding area, where Ulf is trembling behind a barrel.-

Hehehe he's loose he's loose we're all going to die!

-Inside, Air Man holds still, occasionally clinking his chains.-

-Thorkell notes the presence of the transformed Doom and Kerrigan on the wall, but otherwise ignores them.-

Doom shifted his gaze to the urinating warrior, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Are you truly so crass," he began slowly, his hands curling into armoured fists as he approached Thorkell, "as to defecate and urinate in the presence of the King?"

edited 4th Jan '11 11:13:06 AM by SullenFrog

The Soldier said, "Your presence is required at the King's side, lord." Then the Zabrak-turned-human Lord Egearn saw a man fall from the battlements. "Who is that, soldier?" He asked, eyes blazing. "Th-th-that's King Aella, Lord." Stammered the soldier. "I understand that I am supposed to at his side?" "Yes." "Very well." The Sith went after the hurrying soldier, finally appearing before the king. At first, he didn't recognize him, but after looking closely, he said, "Aren't you the one known as Doom?"

-Thorkell the Tall silently finishes his business, then turns to face Doom, looking down at him from his great height.-

Well aren't you a prude today! Since when can a man not piss at the enemy to show what he thinks of them?

Lord Egearn wrinkled his nose. Contrary to what the Spy thought, he meticulously guarded his personal hygiene, and seeing someone peeing in public was quite a shock for him.

Doom, being six feet seven inches tall in his armour, was neither impressed by the looming Thug's height nor amused by his quips. A mailed hand lashed out like a coiled viper, seizing Throkell by the throat and lifting him off the floor.

"When you are in the king's presence, warrior, you will show him the proper respect!"

And with that, Doom flung the warrior back against the wall. The Latverian monarch then turned to the one who had addressed. "I am indeed Doom...and unless I'm mistaken, you are the one who damaged two of my servants."

"Yes, I am. However, since we're here and seems to have a common objective, I propose a truce."

-Thorkell stands up unfazed, with a great grin on his face.-

OhohohoHOH! It seems there are warriors worth their keep here!

-The Viking gives Doom a hearty slap on the back, pushing him forward.-

I might have to go back with the Normans if there are only two like you around!

— Megatron stalks over to the improvised prison, and throws the door open, peering into the darkness and cursing his lack of infrared vision.—

— Back with the cooks, one of the rabbitskins begins to stir.—

-Air Man looks up at the backlit figure.-

When the Spy stepped out of his room and saw the two glowing orbs, his choice was immediate and more than a little predictable. After all, he was an individual able to destroy entire teams from the inside whilst still going completely undetected, a single deadly globetrotting rouge with no equal, a woman-killer (methaphorically) and a man-killer (for real).

Quality, in his experience at least, trumped all.

This post was thumped by the Shillelagh of Whackingness

Daido woke up on in an alley way of the town of York. He got up and streched his limbs, his clothes were the same, but made of a diffrent material than leather. Fur.

He wandered through the streets, seeing the walls prepared for a battle. He then saw a kid crying in his mother's arms. "What will happen, mommy?" The kid said. "I don't know..." She said, patting the kid on the head. "If only I had the Ex-Bicker... then they don't need to worry... they would be all dead..." Daido thought as he passes them.

edited 4th Jan '11 12:16:04 PM by Psyga315

Who are you really?

—Magnar had pointed Fafnir over the man who had brought the prisoner to his attention. —

-Air Man shuffles towards the Viking to get a better look at his face. The light from the door illuminates his chest tattoo.-

Sigma eyed both orbs carefully. He had always been a great believer in quality - that's why he handpicked eight of his best Mavericks to go toe-to-toe with X - so he began moving toward the Quality orb. However, at the last moment an invisible force shunted the Reploid toward the Quantity orb. Everything went white...

"Sigmar the Ruthless has awoken!"

Sigmar... who's that? A throbbing headache greeted Sigma as he got to his feet... and found his body suspiciously bereft of its' armour. Instead, he appeared to be wearing clothes of poor quality cloth... and worse, none of his sensors were functioning. It quickly clicked that Sigma had been transformed into one of them: humans. Grimacing, he brought a hand to his chin, and found that a morass of darkly coloured hair had seemingly colonised his lower face, clinging onto his head for dear life. Looking around the room - he appeared to be in a tent - he saw a comparatively short human wearing primitive armour gawping at him.

"...Can you tell me where we are?" he asked.

"We're back at our camp. We narrowly avoided death - the beast you were hunting had clawed at your eyes - so I brought you back here to recover. We're preparing for an attack on the English!"

"Very well... bring me my armour and blade." said Sigma, making an educated guess.

"Of course, Sigmar." The man scurried out of the tent.

A while later, Sigma (from here on in referred to as "Sigmar") was fully dressed, and was inspecting the camp and its' surroundings. From looking in a convenient puddle, it had appeared someone had daubed his facial wounds with a purple pigment of some sort, meaning he didn't look too different from his usual form.

I'll just have to get used to this...

-Dr. Horrible had talked to the man while he hurried to find the others. Apparently he was in England somewhere, and here he was known as Horace Bell, an alchemist. That, and the vikings were preparing to invade. He hurried out of his workshop and out into the castle courtyard, hoping to find someone at least vaguely familiar-

—Magnar nodded in recognition.—

Get up and follow me. We have a rabble to modify.

The Spy appeared in a castle, still dressed exactly the same as he was in the main complex (a lovely side effect of the magic having to work around his modus operendi that ironically made him about three times more noticeable). As he stepped out of the shadowy alcove he had appeared though, something immediately seemed wrong.

Despite the fact that he hadn't seen anyone, he could immediately tell the people here were all wrong. It was something about them, something only a Frenchman-turned-Spy would be able to notice so quickly and accurately. The air reeked of it.

They were Englishmen.

With a disgusted expression and a tap of his watch the Spy quickly faded from view in the draughty corridor, and swiftly went to find an exit.

edited 4th Jan '11 1:11:58 PM by TheMalignancy

-Air Man follows, his chains clinking on the ground, his hollow gaze passing over and through everything. The soldiers watch in terrified silence, wondering what occult power Magnar has over the berserker, that he can convince him to follow orders.-

—Magnar wandered back to where his tent was, coming out with a layer of chainmail over his torso. —

Now... Where are the others?

Alastor didn't have much luck finding anyone else, and considered giving up...if he weren't being payed, that is.

Hmm...I picked Quality, but this isn't very nice, is it? He thought as he noticed the state of the camp.

"I am being here!" said Fawful, now wearing a somewhat oversized horned helmet.

"And I have plans - but there are being complications. If Fawful can be sneaking into the city as a merchant like the sneakiest Boo, I may have ability to... incapacitate a muchness of the population. Complication here is being that i may not can have the sneaking, and may not have incapacitation of anyone with importance."

He mused for a moment, and added, "For best workings, the plan needs a some body one with the masterings of disguisement. Then be pretending to be castle cook and... Hm."