Savages of the Sacred Salvage
A group of warriors, faces hastily painted to show their newly taken Oaths, suddenly charge at the man that flung the sorcerous red lances. The fighting breaks out anew as he fires at them, while others charge him from a different direction and his fellow outlaws run to intercept them. Staying low, you run a short distance away from this and then crouch down again in a better hiding spot, only then realizing you dropped whatever that object was. Well, no matter now.
"Jerome, goddammit! Our orders! Stop!" one of the strangely accented outlaws barks.
"Like hell, Mark! I'm not letting these savages kill me over a handful of credits."
"Auugh, everyone, just clear out!" you hear the first one holler. He taps his wrist and disappears in a flash of blue fire.
Lances of fire thrown into a crowd might be a new thing, but the source is obvious, and of course everyone knows what the blue flashes mean.
"You know...we've already blown the mission. Might as well clear these pests out and pocket what we can," one of the Hell-bandits says cheerfully, hurling his own fire lance to snuff out the life of an injured hunter near his feet.
"Yeah, Mark always did do things a little too by the book. We should've just used lasers to start with. Prim-Xen can't detect small arms from this distance." This man too begins lobbing bolts of fire at anyone in range, and they're shortly joined by the three remaining in carefully, almost casually making a sweep of the camp and striking down everything that moves.
You're one of the handful of ragged, terrified survivors. Later, when people are brave enough to return, they find the Bright Gods stripped of the crystals that had been hung as offerings, and broken open, even their very hearts cut out. There was no way now for the tribe to perform the rituals to mourn the massacred, or ask for good luck or protection.
Somehow even worse, when the bodies of the two slain Hell-bandits are examined, it reveals the sobering fact that they appear as ordinary humans in every respect, inside and out. Anyone could be an agent of Hell. Particularly any travelers, no matter where they claim to come from. A new age of distrust dawns.
You return home with a heavy heart. You tried your best, but did you help, or just make things worse?
"Jerome, goddammit! Our orders! Stop!" one of the strangely accented outlaws barks.
"Like hell, Mark! I'm not letting these savages kill me over a handful of credits."
"Auugh, everyone, just clear out!" you hear the first one holler. He taps his wrist and disappears in a flash of blue fire.
Lances of fire thrown into a crowd might be a new thing, but the source is obvious, and of course everyone knows what the blue flashes mean.
"You know...we've already blown the mission. Might as well clear these pests out and pocket what we can," one of the Hell-bandits says cheerfully, hurling his own fire lance to snuff out the life of an injured hunter near his feet.
"Yeah, Mark always did do things a little too by the book. We should've just used lasers to start with. Prim-Xen can't detect small arms from this distance." This man too begins lobbing bolts of fire at anyone in range, and they're shortly joined by the three remaining in carefully, almost casually making a sweep of the camp and striking down everything that moves.
You're one of the handful of ragged, terrified survivors. Later, when people are brave enough to return, they find the Bright Gods stripped of the crystals that had been hung as offerings, and broken open, even their very hearts cut out. There was no way now for the tribe to perform the rituals to mourn the massacred, or ask for good luck or protection.
Somehow even worse, when the bodies of the two slain Hell-bandits are examined, it reveals the sobering fact that they appear as ordinary humans in every respect, inside and out. Anyone could be an agent of Hell. Particularly any travelers, no matter where they claim to come from. A new age of distrust dawns.
You return home with a heavy heart. You tried your best, but did you help, or just make things worse?
