Prologue: Broken Shards, 0-3
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] They're all free to join if they want.
[X] You lead half of the squad towards the city center for answers, Cragheart takes the rest to occupy the warehouse and load the trucks.
With the next step settled, you quickly divide into teams. Cragheart narrows his eyes as you order Kannan to accompany you deeper into Chernobog, realizing you mean him as a sort of hostage. You don't think he's planning to abandon you yet, but if things go sour he'd absolutely save his own skin. His partner, though? You trust he'd tear the city apart for Kannan.
You grab Surekha, too- her Arts-enhanced senses are always a boon when walking into an unknown situation. Cragheart grabs a pouting Hatoum and wanders off to find Igor, the final member of your merry band.
You return to Anna's clinic to make your pitch. Meilin is already there, speaking to her companion Jin. He doesn't seem thrilled with the situation, eyeing you a bit uneasily, but voices no complaints. You knock on the back room. As Anna emerges, you glance behind her to see bare living quarters. It appears she escaped her home with a suitcase and the clothes on her back. You're on a schedule, so your pitch is brief- you'll likely be leaving Chernobog, and she's free to join you.
"Well, I can't live under a highway for the rest of my life, however short that is. If you're all done sacking my home, I guess I'll come along. There's certainly nothing left here." She bites out, her apathy taking on a bitter tone. "I'll accompany you to the next city, but I want no part in the fighting."
She jerks her head at the boxes of medical goods. "Get someone to load these up for me, and I'll be ready to go. I'll be in my room."
You shake your head. "We'll pull up a truck, but you need to help. Feel free to borrow these clowns, though." You gesture at the Lungmenites, who were watching the exchange. You'll send all three of them with Cragheart. If he needs hands moving cargo, you'd rather use your untested recruits. Let him deal with Anna's issues.
Ten minutes later, you're marching silently alongside Kannan through the ruined streets of Chernobog. Neither of you are much for conversation, and Surekha is off some distance ahead, poking into buildings.
The industry around the plate's rim quickly turns to residential. Just weeks ago there had been carefully manicured rows of trees throughout these matching apartment blocks, but the Catastrophe had scoured the city of plant life. The apartments themselves had fared little better, and then been picked over for anything useful.
All in all, it had become a rather depressing place. It's quiet aside from the crunching of boots on glass, and the shifting of Kannan's monstrous sword. The way it keeps hitting his back can't be comfortable.
You may be a creature of nightmares, but even you can't stand an awkward silence! You've barely spoken to the man beside you- usually his friend talks enough for both of them. Your tense working relationship with Cragheart doesn't help, nor does the reflective visor covering Kannan's face. (Not that you're one to talk, here)
"So, what do you think happened here?" you try, testing the waters.
"I know as much as you, boss." His voice is as deep as his appearance suggests, though it sounds like he smokes less than his friend. You failed to start a conversation, however.
"You work many jobs in Ursus before this?" Old mercs love telling war stories! You turn off the boulevard, preemptively avoiding downed power lines in the area ahead.
"We had one. Real big group, hired in Columbia for corporate sabotage. Orders were to smash up a factory in Shiraziberg." He cracks his knuckles. "Job went bad. Turned out an Ursus guardsman was being given a tour, creepy fucker with tubes in his head. That was the end of that."
"How'd you get out?"
"Split up and ran. Whatever they did to him, he was still one guy. Couldn't chase us all." He chuckled. "We just about shit ourselves back then. Things got dark and foggy, and people started bleeding out of their eyes and falling over." He turns his head to you, serious. "Trust me, boss, we don't wanna stay here too long. Reunion has bloodied Ursus' nose, and I don't think they'll pull any punches if they smell blood."
"Hey, found something over here!" Surekha calls from some distance ahead of you. The two of you jog to catch up.
There's a grove of what might have been cherry trees in the courtyard, and a trail of blood leading up to a tree. At its base leans a Sarkaz, even younger than Hatoum. Surekha leans down over him, wiping her bloody hand off on his clothes.
"Looks like the poor boy got skewered and crawled here to bleed out. He's still warm, so I thought you might get something out of him, boss." She shakes her head. "This is why we need to rebuild Kazdel, he's not old enough to be dying in a foreign land."
Kannan backs up as you kneel down. "I'll, uh, keep an eye on the street."
Turned away from the others, you pull the coverings on your face to the side.
"May you find your way home to our ancestors." You pray. Surekha echoes the beginning, but you continue to speak. "Thank you for this offering."
Your jaw unhinges, and your perception shifts. As the taste of iron hits your throat, you see the sea, and a sleepy Iberian village along the cliffs. The buildings seem to age before your eyes, countless tiny holes appearing on brickwork as the ocean spray wears at them. You try to focus- these aren't the memories you want to see.
REND
You shift to today. You see him meeting his comrades, hearing the latest news. "W's dead. Talulah's the boss, now." They had been instructed to watch the guerrillas. He had been sad to learn of W's passing. Somewhere distant, you feel your throat distend and spasm.
SLAUGHTER
You urge the story onwards, and are shocked to feel the visceral pain of the spear that took his life. You see the masked Reunion member wielding it. You try to return, to rewind the memories like a cassette tape for what came between these moments, but you are already returning to yourself.
DEVOUR
You're panting as you return to awareness, the Sarkaz before you gone. Some torn and scattered clothes remain alongside his weapon, but many disappeared alongside the corpse, consumed by your ancestral Arts alongside his flesh. You return your veil to your face. It's frustrating, knowing the story you seek is there but only getting bits and pieces. You remember your father could pick a mind clean for all its secrets, but you can only manage this much.
Surekha is looking at you as you stand, a serene look on her face. You think you might prefer when people are uncomfortable, the sight of other Nachzehrer reduced to animalistic hunger and rage was unsettling even to you.
"Did you learn anything, dear?"
"Talulah took command of W's mercenaries after her death. She had them keeping tabs on Patriot. It matches the rumors, but it's not confirmation." Your throat is hoarse.
Surekha frowns. "The new W is gone, too? That's a shame."
She suddenly narrows her eyes and rushes out of the courtyard, just as Kannan returns. The taciturn man beckons silently for you both to follow him inside a ruined stairwell. A few floors up, your feet sweep aside some glass and debris as you drop to the floor, peering down the road.
There are about a dozen Reunion members moving down the street towards you, though they don't appear to have noticed you. Their leader is dressed in the heavy armor you've come to associate with Patriot's shieldguards, and hefts a heavy shield that glows with a blue light. It likely contains an Arts unit that draws and neutralizes projectiles. You see their armor holds numerous pouches and grenade bandoliers.
Otherwise the group seems lightly equipped, many wielding makeshift weapons like pipes and nail bats. You do see a masked spearman that matches your morbid vision. Could the merc you consumed have encountered them? A woman at the group's rear has no visible weapon- a non-combatant, or a Caster?
The three of you have a quick conversation, as quiet as can be.
"Hostiles?" Surekha glares at the apparent leader.
"Outnumbered, but we have decent odds with an ambush." Kannan glances at you. "Two of us attack from behind while you keep the leader busy. Most of 'em look like rioters, not warriors."
You're not sure it's necessary. You could simply try to talk to them. Learning what happened is why you're here. You're a Sarkaz covered in fresh blood, though, they might assume the worst.
The safest option is to let them pass by, hoping to find a smaller group to interrogate.
You give your orders.
[] Plan an ambush and interrogate the survivors.
[] You're all Reunion, talk to them and clear up any misunderstandings.
[] Hide until they've passed.
[] Write-in
If it does come to blows, you double-check your gear. You're talented both martially and in Arts, and have developed a style that works for you.
[] You act as a berserker, carving up your opponents with dual axes and snacking on any pieces you chop off, healing your wounds.
[] You wield a crooked white branch as a staff, cut from an ancient tree with spiritual significance. You drain their life away with Arts, but you can always smack them if needed.
[] Write-in
(This is mostly about what weapon(s) she carries and what she defaults to, and shouldn't limit your strategic options in future write-ins or anything. I'm reserving a veto if the fighting style write-in doesn't loosely fit anything Nachzehrers do in Arknights or folklore.)
[X] You lead half of the squad towards the city center for answers, Cragheart takes the rest to occupy the warehouse and load the trucks.
With the next step settled, you quickly divide into teams. Cragheart narrows his eyes as you order Kannan to accompany you deeper into Chernobog, realizing you mean him as a sort of hostage. You don't think he's planning to abandon you yet, but if things go sour he'd absolutely save his own skin. His partner, though? You trust he'd tear the city apart for Kannan.
You grab Surekha, too- her Arts-enhanced senses are always a boon when walking into an unknown situation. Cragheart grabs a pouting Hatoum and wanders off to find Igor, the final member of your merry band.
You return to Anna's clinic to make your pitch. Meilin is already there, speaking to her companion Jin. He doesn't seem thrilled with the situation, eyeing you a bit uneasily, but voices no complaints. You knock on the back room. As Anna emerges, you glance behind her to see bare living quarters. It appears she escaped her home with a suitcase and the clothes on her back. You're on a schedule, so your pitch is brief- you'll likely be leaving Chernobog, and she's free to join you.
"Well, I can't live under a highway for the rest of my life, however short that is. If you're all done sacking my home, I guess I'll come along. There's certainly nothing left here." She bites out, her apathy taking on a bitter tone. "I'll accompany you to the next city, but I want no part in the fighting."
She jerks her head at the boxes of medical goods. "Get someone to load these up for me, and I'll be ready to go. I'll be in my room."
You shake your head. "We'll pull up a truck, but you need to help. Feel free to borrow these clowns, though." You gesture at the Lungmenites, who were watching the exchange. You'll send all three of them with Cragheart. If he needs hands moving cargo, you'd rather use your untested recruits. Let him deal with Anna's issues.
Ten minutes later, you're marching silently alongside Kannan through the ruined streets of Chernobog. Neither of you are much for conversation, and Surekha is off some distance ahead, poking into buildings.
The industry around the plate's rim quickly turns to residential. Just weeks ago there had been carefully manicured rows of trees throughout these matching apartment blocks, but the Catastrophe had scoured the city of plant life. The apartments themselves had fared little better, and then been picked over for anything useful.
All in all, it had become a rather depressing place. It's quiet aside from the crunching of boots on glass, and the shifting of Kannan's monstrous sword. The way it keeps hitting his back can't be comfortable.
You may be a creature of nightmares, but even you can't stand an awkward silence! You've barely spoken to the man beside you- usually his friend talks enough for both of them. Your tense working relationship with Cragheart doesn't help, nor does the reflective visor covering Kannan's face. (Not that you're one to talk, here)
"So, what do you think happened here?" you try, testing the waters.
"I know as much as you, boss." His voice is as deep as his appearance suggests, though it sounds like he smokes less than his friend. You failed to start a conversation, however.
"You work many jobs in Ursus before this?" Old mercs love telling war stories! You turn off the boulevard, preemptively avoiding downed power lines in the area ahead.
"We had one. Real big group, hired in Columbia for corporate sabotage. Orders were to smash up a factory in Shiraziberg." He cracks his knuckles. "Job went bad. Turned out an Ursus guardsman was being given a tour, creepy fucker with tubes in his head. That was the end of that."
"How'd you get out?"
"Split up and ran. Whatever they did to him, he was still one guy. Couldn't chase us all." He chuckled. "We just about shit ourselves back then. Things got dark and foggy, and people started bleeding out of their eyes and falling over." He turns his head to you, serious. "Trust me, boss, we don't wanna stay here too long. Reunion has bloodied Ursus' nose, and I don't think they'll pull any punches if they smell blood."
"Hey, found something over here!" Surekha calls from some distance ahead of you. The two of you jog to catch up.
There's a grove of what might have been cherry trees in the courtyard, and a trail of blood leading up to a tree. At its base leans a Sarkaz, even younger than Hatoum. Surekha leans down over him, wiping her bloody hand off on his clothes.
"Looks like the poor boy got skewered and crawled here to bleed out. He's still warm, so I thought you might get something out of him, boss." She shakes her head. "This is why we need to rebuild Kazdel, he's not old enough to be dying in a foreign land."
Kannan backs up as you kneel down. "I'll, uh, keep an eye on the street."
Turned away from the others, you pull the coverings on your face to the side.
"May you find your way home to our ancestors." You pray. Surekha echoes the beginning, but you continue to speak. "Thank you for this offering."
Your jaw unhinges, and your perception shifts. As the taste of iron hits your throat, you see the sea, and a sleepy Iberian village along the cliffs. The buildings seem to age before your eyes, countless tiny holes appearing on brickwork as the ocean spray wears at them. You try to focus- these aren't the memories you want to see.
REND
You shift to today. You see him meeting his comrades, hearing the latest news. "W's dead. Talulah's the boss, now." They had been instructed to watch the guerrillas. He had been sad to learn of W's passing. Somewhere distant, you feel your throat distend and spasm.
SLAUGHTER
You urge the story onwards, and are shocked to feel the visceral pain of the spear that took his life. You see the masked Reunion member wielding it. You try to return, to rewind the memories like a cassette tape for what came between these moments, but you are already returning to yourself.
DEVOUR
You're panting as you return to awareness, the Sarkaz before you gone. Some torn and scattered clothes remain alongside his weapon, but many disappeared alongside the corpse, consumed by your ancestral Arts alongside his flesh. You return your veil to your face. It's frustrating, knowing the story you seek is there but only getting bits and pieces. You remember your father could pick a mind clean for all its secrets, but you can only manage this much.
Surekha is looking at you as you stand, a serene look on her face. You think you might prefer when people are uncomfortable, the sight of other Nachzehrer reduced to animalistic hunger and rage was unsettling even to you.
"Did you learn anything, dear?"
"Talulah took command of W's mercenaries after her death. She had them keeping tabs on Patriot. It matches the rumors, but it's not confirmation." Your throat is hoarse.
Surekha frowns. "The new W is gone, too? That's a shame."
She suddenly narrows her eyes and rushes out of the courtyard, just as Kannan returns. The taciturn man beckons silently for you both to follow him inside a ruined stairwell. A few floors up, your feet sweep aside some glass and debris as you drop to the floor, peering down the road.
There are about a dozen Reunion members moving down the street towards you, though they don't appear to have noticed you. Their leader is dressed in the heavy armor you've come to associate with Patriot's shieldguards, and hefts a heavy shield that glows with a blue light. It likely contains an Arts unit that draws and neutralizes projectiles. You see their armor holds numerous pouches and grenade bandoliers.
Otherwise the group seems lightly equipped, many wielding makeshift weapons like pipes and nail bats. You do see a masked spearman that matches your morbid vision. Could the merc you consumed have encountered them? A woman at the group's rear has no visible weapon- a non-combatant, or a Caster?
The three of you have a quick conversation, as quiet as can be.
"Hostiles?" Surekha glares at the apparent leader.
"Outnumbered, but we have decent odds with an ambush." Kannan glances at you. "Two of us attack from behind while you keep the leader busy. Most of 'em look like rioters, not warriors."
You're not sure it's necessary. You could simply try to talk to them. Learning what happened is why you're here. You're a Sarkaz covered in fresh blood, though, they might assume the worst.
The safest option is to let them pass by, hoping to find a smaller group to interrogate.
You give your orders.
[] Plan an ambush and interrogate the survivors.
[] You're all Reunion, talk to them and clear up any misunderstandings.
[] Hide until they've passed.
[] Write-in
If it does come to blows, you double-check your gear. You're talented both martially and in Arts, and have developed a style that works for you.
[] You act as a berserker, carving up your opponents with dual axes and snacking on any pieces you chop off, healing your wounds.
[] You wield a crooked white branch as a staff, cut from an ancient tree with spiritual significance. You drain their life away with Arts, but you can always smack them if needed.
[] Write-in
(This is mostly about what weapon(s) she carries and what she defaults to, and shouldn't limit your strategic options in future write-ins or anything. I'm reserving a veto if the fighting style write-in doesn't loosely fit anything Nachzehrers do in Arknights or folklore.)
