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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

"To make certain none of you terrorize us." Lasser corrected him. "Didn't you say it was late? Now all of a sudden you have a reason to leave?" He did not need to explain the irony to Iver.

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Berethor backed up at the sight of the Gondorian."Uhh-"

Hering stumbled slightly as he unsheathed his blade.

"Please-" He raised his hands up in defense. He bore no weapons. Yet Hering was no mere soldier, no mere peacekeeper. He was a black ranger. The men who were responsible for the protection of Gondor from all its enemies, seen or unseen. He had bloodied his hands with the blood of Haradrim and Easterlings men, women and even he denies it, children. He even slew a troublesome Gondorian noble when the order was given. They were the black rangers. And Hering was the blackest of them all. And this man was responsible for the deaths of his men, his comrades, his commander, Tildir and his underling Pethon. There could be no mercy.

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"It is not within my power to say but he has need of your talents, Lieutenant." The admiral replied. "Any further questions that I may answer?"

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From the corpse of the Guardian rose a forming ballista. It was slightly crooked and leaned leftward yet a long-running spiked barbed bolt began to form in its hold attached to a tightened cord.

Sigeric's mind opened as he ventured onto an ethereal plane of existence that was uncharted. He saw an almost exact replica of the battlefield's geography with a distinct lack of vegetations and physical beings yet he could see almost phantom shadows of people. He saw Ha'zi running away from him towards four men in the distance, a dozen figures coated in darkness chasing after a figure that gleamed white and many others further away.

Rambo managed to penetrate a slice of skin, barely exposed between the chinks of the armor around the trapezoid. Whilst doing so, he managed to glimpse the Screamer coming closer. Did it see him?

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"We are not leaving lad, just bringing shit to sleep in because sleeping two on the floor or 3 in one bed is not an option we want" Iver said, clearly not seeing anything ironic due to the fact that dinner was something like 3 hours ahead and they had nothing better to do. "Anyways ill be going now" Iver said and started walking toward the bat's corp
 
Its eyes drifted over at Rambo and widened. It saw him.

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Lasser stood up. "I'll help ya." He started walking ignoring whether or not he'd refuse.

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"Well, that's more help than the dwarf offered" Iver muttered while walking with Arandil and Lasser to get their supplies. He would bring everything back to the cabin with their help, he will organize the supplies in the morning because over the last year of their trip neither Arandil nor Thoruk showed any signs of organizing things right and if he would let them do the organization they would take the bat saddle but no food.
 
"We deserve a good night's rest, after all this madness."Then he turned to Lasser . "But there is an important question I must ask. What are we eating for breakfast tomorrow?"
 
Daugo tilted his head. "I... think not. Thank you, sir, you have been a most gracious host." He finished his tea.
 
"Fish. I believe. Or bear." Lasser said. "Dinner is nearly here. Are you lot off to bed or...?"

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"I hope you see better days and wish your children great health, lieutenant." The admiral dipped his head, picked up a quill and dipped it into ink as the waiting man came by and took the cup from Daugo then left. "You will see the General at Minas Tirith." The door was opened for them and Ramdir exited. Galador waited for Daugo.

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Rambo found his spare knife tucked away in his pocket. It had been slightly dislodged but not lost like his other weapons. His trusty old tribal knife, a rusted old memoir.

"There's a bug on your shoulder." Tytus said to Berethor. The Armoured's head twisted to the right and stared right at Rambo. It grunted, its jaw dropped and steam expired. Quickly the Armoured's left hand rose and went to slap his right shoulder.

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Rage burned in Herings eyes. He'd decapitate the cunt and parade the head among the garrison. What a fool he was not to leave. "In the name of the King, I Hering shall wipe the world clear of your stain. For my fallen comrades, Tildir, Pethon, and the others I shall claim your head as tribute. For those who died in Mordor because of your vile actions I shall burn your lifeless body, this I vow, and this I shall do." Hering would say, all the while advancing. When close enough he'd charge forward, doing a wide swing with his right hand, aiming for the sword to hit his abdomen and travel up the chest.
 
Sigeric viewed this newfound cosmic plane with admiration. It was clear that his powers were not quite done evolving. But back to the matter at hand. As the deadly bolt finished forming, Sigeric chose its victim. He decided to ignore Ha'zi for the moment, despite his frustration towards the young man. He seemed to be occupied with the prototype giants, and they were fair game at this point. Instead, his third eye was caught by the radiant figure that was fleeing from a throng of assailants. Tytus had mentioned "The Slayer" earlier. Apparently he had not killed him, as he had claimed. The Guardian Ballista aimed towards the crowd of misshapen figures with mechanical precision. Sigeric led the shot, accounting for both the slightly crooked nature of the weapon and the movement of the enemy giants. After affirming that Glorfindel was far enough away to not become collateral damage, he released the bolt. As the deadly projectile left the weapon, splitting the air before it, Sigeric willed it to split apart as well, forming into a multitude of smaller shards. This rain of razor-sharp shards would quickly descend on the pack of his former comrades. If these pitiable souls still held any consciousness, they would surely feel the same terror that the Easterling hordes felt when they heard a whistling volley of Dalish arrows rain down hell upon them.
 
Ha'zi's deep, suppressed emotions were fully emancipated by his parasitic anger, and they inundated all at once, amplified into the extremes. Hate at Thoruk and Iver for abandoning their cause. Guilt prescribed due to being of no help in stopping Dimitri's snatching by that scum. Irritation at Daugo for his brash actions. Feelings of jealousy over Sigeric. Regret for not knowing where his... where Cardiloc disappeared to. They mixed and clashed and blended into pure, hot negativity and they were then added to the most horrible of them all: that feeling of absolute hopelessness of seeing Lesier pass, and how his chance at revenge had been snuffed out oh so quickly against Osman. This one, this hateful, raw memory grew and grew as the figure responsible was caught in his sights.

The result was terrifying, to say the least. His powerhouse of emotions ran out of control, and exploded. A hellish shriek shot out of the Warrior's mouth, paralyzing its enemies. The wind in the air stirred, then whipped, and finally roared a chilling tempest across the battlefield, pushing all towards the incoming Giant. The earth rumbled and split around them, causing deep depressions to form like an empty moat and leaving no place to go. The wind picked up parts of the ground: from loose dirt to boulders, and they joined the storm to batter the soon to be victims. Within the mind of each afflicted, varying grotesque images and scenarios flashed: mass destruction, the incineration of loved ones, and incredible feelings of torture and mutilation inflicted upon their senes, all the while the foundations of their minds deteriorated at great speeds.

While all this terror happened, the Warrior itself underwent an even more horrific metamorphosis. Its head transformed into that of a terrifying Mama Crocolion, its jaw became the immensely powerful one of the Dwarf, its torso adorning wicked spiked armor, and its skin blazing with fire: a demonic mismatch. The Warrior- no, the Demon- crashed into them with pure chaos as the elements ran completely amok, slaughtering cannon fodder Giants and rangers left and right. After that, it simply jumped besides the Armored and had its gore-soaked blades slice clean across the Armored, toppling it. Lastly, its flaming eyes turned upon the finale, the grand prize, the bastard, the charlatan: the Screaming Giant. The Demon lunged right upon the despicable, idiotic runt and tore and burned and mutilated it with an avenging fury until there was nothing left.
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The Dwarf gagged and hacked from this feint, but steadied itself and recovered. Wishing to finish this, it went to set its clawed hand right down to pin Teli, and steadily applied more pressure, only allowing itself to stop if he yielded.
 
ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL

The entity known as 9842Kye has been relieved of his duties as the Dwarf Giant and Dimitri. His service to the Motherland is appreciated and noted.
 
"Ill come and join you for dinner, I am famished beyond belief. May I ask, do you have any venison or wild deer? Been a while since i have eaten prime meat."
 
Rambo cut his ropes, and just as the hand reached him he swung his hook towards the armoured giants left shoulder and darted out of the way.
 
It was rather a campfire gathering than a dinner table. Many had come together to eat and both Iver and Arandil could see pieces of meat flayed and cooked upon a skewer. A pot lay nearby boiling what appeared to be a broth and there were two baskets of bread and fruits placed near the edge of the closest seating log. To Arandil it appeared to be some sort of prime cut. But he was unsure.

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The admiral glanced up just as he was about to begin writing. He raised an eyebrow in annoyance and Galador placed his hand over Daugo's shoulder.

"Let us be on our way, sir."

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Telimekhtar hazily stabbed the Dwarf's hand yet to no avail. He gasped and sputtered but continued to fight, gripping the claws of the Dwarf and twisting them backward with his hands.

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Berethor fell back yet Hering was too quick. The sword sliced up his chest, shredding through his tunic and leaving a bloody gash. The man hit the ground gripping at his chest. His mouth seemed to be moving but Hering could not hear whatever he was saying. A little girl appeared around the corner unexpectedly. She was well dressed and looked up at Hering brandishing his bloody blade. She seemed to open her mouth and yell something yet he could not understand her. Was she screaming from the giant? Did he torture her? Did he hurt this little girl?

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Berethor reached over to pluck at Rambo but he managed to sling away. Just as he turned his eyes caught a most miraculous sight...

The skies darkened and the winds picked up. The earth around Tytus and him shook and he saw something forming out of the body of the Guardian. Before he could even pay attention to it, a roar brought his notice and he saw it. Some creature...some horror...some demon was charging directly at him. Berethor was too shocked by what he saw to even react when it bashed straight through him.

Rambo went flying as the Armoured Giant was toppled and bashed to the earth by something. It crashed on its front, its face violently clawed. Rambo saw the earth rushing up to meet him and he did not have much time to react.

The Guardian fired its projectiles which went flinging directly at their targets. Yet, the hailing winds knocked them off course resulting in stray arrows which, although missing their marks, many hit their targets. Sigeric sensed something was happening above him as suddenly light entered his crystal and the minor cavern created by his original transformation caved in. Above him, a storm had formed and the earth was shaking. What the hell was happening?

Glorfindel sliced through the nape of one of the giants. His reluctance had disappeared as the realization of kill or be killed cemented itself in him. These men died the moment that bastard screamed. As he leaped off its falling body and onto a tree, a howling screech from the south reached his ears. He saw some bestial giant mauling the Armoured. "Huh?"

Dozens of gigantic ballista bolts flew in his direction and were caught as a tornado blew past. A tornado?! "What?" The branched he clung to shook violently as the tree it was connected to began to shake, its roots ripping out of the earth upon which it stood. Then the bolts crashed through the forest, falling around him. Mindless giants and trees alike were shredded through. Glorfindel dropped and for the first time in his life, he remembered his first death. "Ecthelion." He muttered before he shut his eyes as the world was enveloped in rage.

Tytus watched as Berethor was pummeled through by whatever the hell Gondor had brought to fight them. Some hybridized giant. It's ugly face sent chills down his spine and he screamed out of nature as the beast rushed towards him.

"LEAVE US ALONE!!!"

Tytus' voice broke through the haze of emotion and into Ha'zi's mind. The order was clearly spoken and unleashed him from his rage. Yet, would that stop the Haradrim?

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"What is that?" He asked while pointing at the meat above the fire."Is that some sort of venison? Deer? Or perhaps a cow? Whatever it is it seems like a golden stake to me right now."
"You cannot believe how much my appetite has grown ever since we began this adventure, lad." He turned to Iver
 
While he wasn’t going to be squished, at least he was going to die from having his neck broken, Rambo optimistically thought as he used his arms and legs to shield his body.
 
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