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No hiding from Counsel members and muscle-bulked workhorse of a man.\n\nJust a giant rusted door, sealed with the third padlock she'd come across of this design. She realized this was beyond even Caldeus's skill, as there was nothing of this intricacy anywhere on the island that had been seen in over a decade.\n\nTwo more of these behemoth doors lay behind the first, as if the paranoia that put them there in the process hadn't been enough.\n\nAnd it wasn't. Kistaria almost cackled as the final door creaked with definite corrosion as a fresh burst of sea spray assaulted her nose.\n\nAs dim and dying bulbs flickered into life, they revealed four open docks. The looming hulks of escape vessels halfway sank into the salty berths.\n\nSuch a waste, she scoffed as only the fifth still had potential. Its berth was still sealed, and had been in the process of renovation at the time of the sealing away.\n\nAnd given the several gun turrets and cannon ports bristling from deck, was more than just a civilian vessel. This became her priority focus, as something of this magnitude could patrol the seas around the island with a staff of automatons through both the day and the night.\n\nOn board the vessel, she came to realize they hadn't been restoring it...\n\nThey'd been decommissioning the cannons and stripping them for parts and precious metals.\n\nKistaria's enraged howls echoed through the chamber, as only a couple of the large guns and a couple deck-mounted small caliber munitions could be usable with a little tinkering. The rest were missing critical components as she couldn't just 'magic' them out of the ether.\n\nNot that it stopped her, but the third time she shocked herself proved obvious. Only crude objects, nothing of that level of detail.\n\nWhat she discovered belowdecks however made this issue obsolete. A cutting torch and empty fuel tanks were left next to a half-unhinged storage compartment.\n\nA little twist of her electromancy and she was plunged into darkness on the other side. Six latches, a nearly stuck hatch wheel, and a jot of elbow grease got the door open from the inside.\n\nA loud crash and a bare scuttling out of the way as the remaining half-hinge just couldn't support the door. And it rattled off the ill-lit underdecking. Revealing another treasure trove.\n\nA vast storehouse of munitions and replacement small arms lay in the long passageway. But it was six crates, man-sized that had Kista's attention redirected to crowbar-ing the wood to kindling.\n\n“Emergency Repair Automatons... just what the megalomaniac ordered.” There was a devious grin on her face as.. she tried to discover how to activate the thing. Only to reveal another road block.\n\nThe automatons were massive, and thus extremely heavy. A cursory examination revealed the boiler was stored dry. After all, there's no shortage of water on a boat. Right?\n\nDistraught, Kistaria slumped to the floor... with a clink. Wait, she wasn't wearing her toolbelt. She looked down to her bracelet the other had been wearing.. and she'd essentially generated to absorb her alter-self's powers.\n\nOnce again, it was hovering. And its phosphorescent insistance was aimed at the machine. A silly idea struck her, and she just brushed it off.\n\nAfter all, powering an automaton of this caliber required intensely pressurized water to drive pistons and turn gears. Sure, this motion through electromagnets lit the eyes and powered the brainworks but...\n\nWell maybe it would work. But she didn't really have any time for any sort of testing. Especially if Calcimer hadn't flown the coop after she'd nearly strangled him.\n\nA mistake she was already regretting. But it wasn't time to dwell on that part of the past. It was time to secure her future. Just in case Calcimer found a way to summon up an army to oppose her.\n\nShe'd already lost one fortress to prior mistakes. No way in Anarchy was she going to hand this one over so easily.\n\nSo she clasped her metal gauntlet of fingers on to the empty water chamber in the chest, and let herself Become the machine.\n\nIt was slow going, as she just couldn't quite mesh with simple parts like she'd dissected the locks. But then she reached the head...\n\nAnd the world of the Machine came alive.\n\nShe could see how the electricity coursed through copper wires. How this in turn powered and twisted gears, and some very curious, very intricate stacks of disks turned out to be a sort of primity memory storage. A little internal bead welder could change or improve on current designs...\n\nAll of them weapons on board the vessel, dismantled or not included. And much to her glee, an enormous cannon easily capable of rendering an entire city to rubble with a well-placed shot or two.\n\nShe could get the monster's mind up and running with a well-placed crystal. But of course needed water in the boiler to get the propulsion mechanics up and running.\n\nSo she spent five minutes searching for a bucket. Another three melting down a spent and discarded firing shell into a half-sealed container just in case she dropped it.\n\nAnd then another twenty-five minutes to lever the bulky thing out of its crate far enough that she could empty the water canister into the boiler housing.\n\nFortunately, the whale oil reservoir that heated the automaton was air-tight. So it hadn't spoiled too badly. Just merely gotten a little chunky around the edges. A coursing pulse of sparking to dislodge residue from the extraction nozzle, another spark to ignite it...\n\nAnd finally, to jam metal fingers into the glass-capped sockets of the construction's visual receptors to implant the final piece. A crystal behind the eyes to control it.\n\nFor several minutes, she sat around waiting. Watching. Hoping. There'd been no visual or audible deterioration, but she'd seen the other boats and what the sea water had done to them.\n\nNearly fifteen minutes of waiting, and Kista had started to drift off to sleep.. it'd been a long, somewhat terse but exciting day. Every chance to take a nice little...\n\nThen a steading and slow dripping noise interrupted her nap. She turned to reveal to herself that the automaton was silent as a ghost, and busy refilling its water tanks from a concealed nozzle under a bolted flap.\n\nKistaria looked at the machine, before barking out. “Machinae, what are your current orders?” To.. no reply. Sure, it had seemed like a bit of a long shot. But was worth the effort. So tried again. “Machine! What are your orders?” It was clear... the machine wasn't as advanced as she hoped it had appeared to be.\n\nSo a jumping bolt and crackling rumble of thunder sent pink lightning running through the automaton. And brought to life the crystal she'd implanted a good half hour prior.\n\n“Machine, what's your orders?” She shouted, even as the monster went back to its obvious self-assessment, pistons pushed and joints flexed while the boiler warmed up.\n\nShe could hear the little disc reader clicking smoothly in that cold glass-eyed head of its, but maybe being stored for over a decade in darkness had ended it before it was given life again.\n\nA sigh of despair was suddenly silenced as a hiss of pressure released from the steam valves at the back of the squeakless-wheeled metal man. And the towering mechanical marvel roared to life.\n\nEasily seven foot tall once it raised to its full height and barrel chest extended just a little bit, this was quickly revealed to be hllow as a various assortment of tool arms, a self-contained welder, and several various sized wrenches and gear tighteners cycled and un-cycled into view.\n\nThe 'eyes' were a humble yellow set of spotlights, before the charge of the crystal finally crackled to life. And the light dimmed to a pale shade of lavender.\n\nThe final touch was a squeal of sorts that sent paws to clasp ears as a previously unexplored set of disks connected to a speaker growled to life. “Name.” The deep voice purred at her, the throaty resonance pretty much making her toes curl in her boots. She didn't know what it meant.. at first, before she had to think about it.\n\n“Kistaria...” She cooed, before grinning. Time to go big or go surrender. “No, scratch that. Grand Magistrate Kistaria Prime.” She could hear the second dot wlder 'tink tink tink'ing away in the machine. Clearly recording her name for posterity's sake.\n\n“Orders, Grand Magistrate Kistaria Prime.” She frowned a little bit, an emotionless hulk and really nothing more. But the positive aspects of a mindless automaton outweighed the cons.\n\nIt wouldn't tire. Wouldn't sleep. Only occasionally would stop to refill its tanks or replace its tools. But it was a machine.. not a weak and fragile human.\n\n“Hmm...” Her leer couldn't get any bigger at this point, plotting what to do first. “Give me a... no, open up the other automatons and bring them up to speed on who I am. Then...”\n\nShe giggled a little. “Repair all weapons on deck, retrieve the cache in the storage room, and repair the war automatons there. Be ready in two days. And..”\n\nKeep out of sight, find covert hiding places all over the facility. Then wait for my command.\n\n- - - - - -\n\nKistaria's attendance was noticably missed for three days, and a cursory examination revealed she wasn't in her rooms or had been there in some time.\n\nAn actual search of her quarters revealed nothing... at first. But a few discovered hidden panels in her dresser and a wadded up sheet with brick-coloured paint shed even more mystery on her dissapearance.\n\nThe last two days had been an oddity as well, as several people were complaining of scrabbling noises in the sealed off lower quarters.\n\nAt first, the Counsel had passed this off as just rats. They were a small but strongly thriving community in the higher tiers of the facility after all. But on the second day they had actually grown concerned as the Calcimer himself was also missing and un-contactable.\n\nSo the Counsel split up with a couple of guardsmen each. And began to question door to door. This search was extensive, and not even a third of the way through...\n\nThe Explosions Began.\n\nThe first was in an unused set of rooms, the door nearly torn off the hinges. As the Pyromancer Markus's guards stepped in to investigate, a second and much larger blast tore through the room. And engulfed the men in a vaporizing blast and temporarily deafened the fire mage.\n\nAs he tried to find his footing, two lurking shapes emerged from the smoke and the ashes.\n\nThe first, Kistaria. Resplendant in new and regal attire. Much like a restored version of the ones she'd been found in, chased in silver instead of gold thread however. With a sinister sneer on her face, and a new and crimson hue in her glowing eyes.\n\nThe second was a massive bulky shape, and quickly becaqme obvious that it wasn't human at all in the strange fluid grace that the war automaton.. with purple-tinted visual orbs posessed.\n\n“Take his head, and bottle it like Calcimer did me...” Kistaria purred. “Then pour some powdered crystal in the liquid, to keep it alive and functioning. Then.. mount it in the Pit.”\n\nAs the machine dispatched its first target with remorseless motion that hadn't been done in over a decade, the rest of the facility began to fracture apart in confusion.\n\nLike rats trapped in a maze, there was screams and small cries as many people became seperated from one another in the open air atrium with a faux sun to aid in the growth of trees and the greenery around them.\n\nTraining and regular drills told of this as a common meeting place if accidents or disasters struck. And for the most part, this would hold true. That is, until three automatons rumbled into place in the trio of archways leading inside. And opened fire with their automatic repeater minicannons.\n\nLost voices in confusion melted into shrieks of pain and panic as none were given quarter in the rumbling of the slaughter-bots' senseless march.\n\nThe rumble and roar of small caliber gunfire tore through the citizens and foliage, staining bark and stone a visceral red.\n\nAs people, group by group were being 'recovered' to the central dome, the air began to grow thick and heavy with acrid smoke and the smell of wet copper.\n\nScreams became whimpers, and finally silence as one of the greatest achievements on the planet Crinochus became nothing more...\n\nThen a Tomb and Lair for a woman not quite human, and obviously mad with new-found power.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Kistaria's trip to the War Machine Drydocks was much less eventful than to the buried workshop; No digging out a brick wall in secret. No hiding from Counsel members and muscle-bulked workhorse of a man.

Just a giant rusted door, sealed with the third padlock she'd come across of this design. She realized this was beyond even Caldeus's skill, as there was nothing of this intricacy anywhere on the island that had been seen in over a decade.

Two more of these behemoth doors lay behind the first, as if the paranoia that put them there in the process hadn't been enough.

And it wasn't. Kistaria almost cackled as the final door creaked with definite corrosion as a fresh burst of sea spray assaulted her nose.

As dim and dying bulbs flickered into life, they revealed four open docks. The looming hulks of escape vessels halfway sank into the salty berths.

Such a waste, she scoffed as only the fifth still had potential. Its berth was still sealed, and had been in the process of renovation at the time of the sealing away.

And given the several gun turrets and cannon ports bristling from deck, was more than just a civilian vessel. This became her priority focus, as something of this magnitude could patrol the seas around the island with a staff of automatons through both the day and the night.

On board the vessel, she came to realize they hadn't been restoring it...

They'd been decommissioning the cannons and stripping them for parts and precious metals.

Kistaria's enraged howls echoed through the chamber, as only a couple of the large guns and a couple deck-mounted small caliber munitions could be usable with a little tinkering. The rest were missing critical components as she couldn't just 'magic' them out of the ether.

Not that it stopped her, but the third time she shocked herself proved obvious. Only crude objects, nothing of that level of detail.

What she discovered belowdecks however made this issue obsolete. A cutting torch and empty fuel tanks were left next to a half-unhinged storage compartment.

A little twist of her electromancy and she was plunged into darkness on the other side. Six latches, a nearly stuck hatch wheel, and a jot of elbow grease got the door open from the inside.

A loud crash and a bare scuttling out of the way as the remaining half-hinge just couldn't support the door. And it rattled off the ill-lit underdecking. Revealing another treasure trove.

A vast storehouse of munitions and replacement small arms lay in the long passageway. But it was six crates, man-sized that had Kista's attention redirected to crowbar-ing the wood to kindling.

“Emergency Repair Automatons... just what the megalomaniac ordered.” There was a devious grin on her face as.. she tried to discover how to activate the thing. Only to reveal another road block.

The automatons were massive, and thus extremely heavy. A cursory examination revealed the boiler was stored dry. After all, there's no shortage of water on a boat. Right?

Distraught, Kistaria slumped to the floor... with a clink. Wait, she wasn't wearing her toolbelt. She looked down to her bracelet the other had been wearing.. and she'd essentially generated to absorb her alter-self's powers.

Once again, it was hovering. And its phosphorescent insistance was aimed at the machine. A silly idea struck her, and she just brushed it off.

After all, powering an automaton of this caliber required intensely pressurized water to drive pistons and turn gears. Sure, this motion through electromagnets lit the eyes and powered the brainworks but...

Well maybe it would work. But she didn't really have any time for any sort of testing. Especially if Calcimer hadn't flown the coop after she'd nearly strangled him.

A mistake she was already regretting. But it wasn't time to dwell on that part of the past. It was time to secure her future. Just in case Calcimer found a way to summon up an army to oppose her.

She'd already lost one fortress to prior mistakes. No way in Anarchy was she going to hand this one over so easily.

So she clasped her metal gauntlet of fingers on to the empty water chamber in the chest, and let herself Become the machine.

It was slow going, as she just couldn't quite mesh with simple parts like she'd dissected the locks. But then she reached the head...

And the world of the Machine came alive.

She could see how the electricity coursed through copper wires. How this in turn powered and twisted gears, and some very curious, very intricate stacks of disks turned out to be a sort of primity memory storage. A little internal bead welder could change or improve on current designs...

All of them weapons on board the vessel, dismantled or not included. And much to her glee, an enormous cannon easily capable of rendering an entire city to rubble with a well-placed shot or two.

She could get the monster's mind up and running with a well-placed crystal. But of course needed water in the boiler to get the propulsion mechanics up and running.

So she spent five minutes searching for a bucket. Another three melting down a spent and discarded firing shell into a half-sealed container just in case she dropped it.

And then another twenty-five minutes to lever the bulky thing out of its crate far enough that she could empty the water canister into the boiler housing.

Fortunately, the whale oil reservoir that heated the automaton was air-tight. So it hadn't spoiled too badly. Just merely gotten a little chunky around the edges. A coursing pulse of sparking to dislodge residue from the extraction nozzle, another spark to ignite it...

And finally, to jam metal fingers into the glass-capped sockets of the construction's visual receptors to implant the final piece. A crystal behind the eyes to control it.

For several minutes, she sat around waiting. Watching. Hoping. There'd been no visual or audible deterioration, but she'd seen the other boats and what the sea water had done to them.

Nearly fifteen minutes of waiting, and Kista had started to drift off to sleep.. it'd been a long, somewhat terse but exciting day. Every chance to take a nice little...

Then a steading and slow dripping noise interrupted her nap. She turned to reveal to herself that the automaton was silent as a ghost, and busy refilling its water tanks from a concealed nozzle under a bolted flap.

Kistaria looked at the machine, before barking out. “Machinae, what are your current orders?” To.. no reply. Sure, it had seemed like a bit of a long shot. But was worth the effort. So tried again. “Machine! What are your orders?” It was clear... the machine wasn't as advanced as she hoped it had appeared to be.

So a jumping bolt and crackling rumble of thunder sent pink lightning running through the automaton. And brought to life the crystal she'd implanted a good half hour prior.

“Machine, what's your orders?” She shouted, even as the monster went back to its obvious self-assessment, pistons pushed and joints flexed while the boiler warmed up.

She could hear the little disc reader clicking smoothly in that cold glass-eyed head of its, but maybe being stored for over a decade in darkness had ended it before it was given life again.

A sigh of despair was suddenly silenced as a hiss of pressure released from the steam valves at the back of the squeakless-wheeled metal man. And the towering mechanical marvel roared to life.

Easily seven foot tall once it raised to its full height and barrel chest extended just a little bit, this was quickly revealed to be hllow as a various assortment of tool arms, a self-contained welder, and several various sized wrenches and gear tighteners cycled and un-cycled into view.

The 'eyes' were a humble yellow set of spotlights, before the charge of the crystal finally crackled to life. And the light dimmed to a pale shade of lavender.

The final touch was a squeal of sorts that sent paws to clasp ears as a previously unexplored set of disks connected to a speaker growled to life. “Name.” The deep voice purred at her, the throaty resonance pretty much making her toes curl in her boots. She didn't know what it meant.. at first, before she had to think about it.

“Kistaria...” She cooed, before grinning. Time to go big or go surrender. “No, scratch that. Grand Magistrate Kistaria Prime.” She could hear the second dot wlder 'tink tink tink'ing away in the machine. Clearly recording her name for posterity's sake.

“Orders, Grand Magistrate Kistaria Prime.” She frowned a little bit, an emotionless hulk and really nothing more. But the positive aspects of a mindless automaton outweighed the cons.

It wouldn't tire. Wouldn't sleep. Only occasionally would stop to refill its tanks or replace its tools. But it was a machine.. not a weak and fragile human.

“Hmm...” Her leer couldn't get any bigger at this point, plotting what to do first. “Give me a... no, open up the other automatons and bring them up to speed on who I am. Then...”

She giggled a little. “Repair all weapons on deck, retrieve the cache in the storage room, and repair the war automatons there. Be ready in two days. And..”

Keep out of sight, find covert hiding places all over the facility. Then wait for my command.

- - - - - -

Kistaria's attendance was noticably missed for three days, and a cursory examination revealed she wasn't in her rooms or had been there in some time.

An actual search of her quarters revealed nothing... at first. But a few discovered hidden panels in her dresser and a wadded up sheet with brick-coloured paint shed even more mystery on her dissapearance.

The last two days had been an oddity as well, as several people were complaining of scrabbling noises in the sealed off lower quarters.

At first, the Counsel had passed this off as just rats. They were a small but strongly thriving community in the higher tiers of the facility after all. But on the second day they had actually grown concerned as the Calcimer himself was also missing and un-contactable.

So the Counsel split up with a couple of guardsmen each. And began to question door to door. This search was extensive, and not even a third of the way through...

The Explosions Began.

The first was in an unused set of rooms, the door nearly torn off the hinges. As the Pyromancer Markus's guards stepped in to investigate, a second and much larger blast tore through the room. And engulfed the men in a vaporizing blast and temporarily deafened the fire mage.

As he tried to find his footing, two lurking shapes emerged from the smoke and the ashes.

The first, Kistaria. Resplendant in new and regal attire. Much like a restored version of the ones she'd been found in, chased in silver instead of gold thread however. With a sinister sneer on her face, and a new and crimson hue in her glowing eyes.

The second was a massive bulky shape, and quickly becaqme obvious that it wasn't human at all in the strange fluid grace that the war automaton.. with purple-tinted visual orbs posessed.

“Take his head, and bottle it like Calcimer did me...” Kistaria purred. “Then pour some powdered crystal in the liquid, to keep it alive and functioning. Then.. mount it in the Pit.”

As the machine dispatched its first target with remorseless motion that hadn't been done in over a decade, the rest of the facility began to fracture apart in confusion.

Like rats trapped in a maze, there was screams and small cries as many people became seperated from one another in the open air atrium with a faux sun to aid in the growth of trees and the greenery around them.

Training and regular drills told of this as a common meeting place if accidents or disasters struck. And for the most part, this would hold true. That is, until three automatons rumbled into place in the trio of archways leading inside. And opened fire with their automatic repeater minicannons.

Lost voices in confusion melted into shrieks of pain and panic as none were given quarter in the rumbling of the slaughter-bots' senseless march.

The rumble and roar of small caliber gunfire tore through the citizens and foliage, staining bark and stone a visceral red.

As people, group by group were being 'recovered' to the central dome, the air began to grow thick and heavy with acrid smoke and the smell of wet copper.

Screams became whimpers, and finally silence as one of the greatest achievements on the planet Crinochus became nothing more...

Then a Tomb and Lair for a woman not quite human, and obviously mad with new-found power.", "pools_count": 1, "title": "01 - 08 - Anarchy", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/rtf", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "5", "name": "Strong Violence", "description": "Strong violence, blood, serious injury or death", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "21" }