Into the Unknown
As you walk forward, trying to align yourself with some sort of landmark or solid terrain feature, the sudden pungent odor of fuel fills your nose. The ground around you becomes cracked and grey, with huge spikes of black stone jutting forward in tree-like clusters. Toxic streams and pools of a sickly green liquid snake through the crust, staining the rocks around it with a pallid hue. In the vast distance, trees the size of castles form a wall on the horizon.
Carefully stepping forward as to avoid the poisonous pools, your attention is drawn to a large cloud of dust, rapidly approaching to your right side. Almost immediately, this dust storm is answered by a similar one from your left. Unable to find cover, you crouch down behind a grouping of black stone just as the storms draw dangerously close. What you had perceived as massive clouds were the byproduct of bizarre, quickly moving machines made of apparent scraps and salvage; some wheeled, some on whirling spider-like legs. Hanging off of these machines are humans, wearing a similar assortment of broken metal and leather cords as armor. Each wears a helmet of metallic springs, wires, and scraps of brightly colored cloth.
The second cloud of dust arrives an instant later, heralding it's own riders. A stark contrast to the motley crew of the first warband, this group of humanoids appear entirely robotic, made entirely of a dark grey substance. Each is nearly identical, and their riding machines appear intact and pristine, save for a layer of dust. With an unheard command, a sickle-like claw emerges from each of the robots' right hands. The two warbands collide in a cacophony of shredding metal and broken bones, with human warriors throwing themselves into the robotic enemies in a barbaric rage. Robot blades cleave human arms cleanly from their sockets, just as makeshift clubs and hammers bludgeon mechanical heads into misshapen, inert lumps. A mechanical twin-tailed scorpion, piloted by a robotic warrior with a vicious halberd, clatters nosily over your hiding spot, forcing you out into the open.
With a sudden boom that shakes the ground, the fighting abruptly stops. The sky, once yellow with low clouds, is suddenly replaced by the face of a female; half robot and half human. A silence hangs in the air, as combatants once furiously striking at their enemies now stand in reverence. The female speaks, and her visage is gone as abruptly as it appeared, replaced with swirling clouds once again. A great cheer erupts from the human survivors, and with a deafening burst of light, you fall to your knees.
Carefully stepping forward as to avoid the poisonous pools, your attention is drawn to a large cloud of dust, rapidly approaching to your right side. Almost immediately, this dust storm is answered by a similar one from your left. Unable to find cover, you crouch down behind a grouping of black stone just as the storms draw dangerously close. What you had perceived as massive clouds were the byproduct of bizarre, quickly moving machines made of apparent scraps and salvage; some wheeled, some on whirling spider-like legs. Hanging off of these machines are humans, wearing a similar assortment of broken metal and leather cords as armor. Each wears a helmet of metallic springs, wires, and scraps of brightly colored cloth.
The second cloud of dust arrives an instant later, heralding it's own riders. A stark contrast to the motley crew of the first warband, this group of humanoids appear entirely robotic, made entirely of a dark grey substance. Each is nearly identical, and their riding machines appear intact and pristine, save for a layer of dust. With an unheard command, a sickle-like claw emerges from each of the robots' right hands. The two warbands collide in a cacophony of shredding metal and broken bones, with human warriors throwing themselves into the robotic enemies in a barbaric rage. Robot blades cleave human arms cleanly from their sockets, just as makeshift clubs and hammers bludgeon mechanical heads into misshapen, inert lumps. A mechanical twin-tailed scorpion, piloted by a robotic warrior with a vicious halberd, clatters nosily over your hiding spot, forcing you out into the open.
With a sudden boom that shakes the ground, the fighting abruptly stops. The sky, once yellow with low clouds, is suddenly replaced by the face of a female; half robot and half human. A silence hangs in the air, as combatants once furiously striking at their enemies now stand in reverence. The female speaks, and her visage is gone as abruptly as it appeared, replaced with swirling clouds once again. A great cheer erupts from the human survivors, and with a deafening burst of light, you fall to your knees.
