Everybody Loves Large Chests With Strings Cut 3

With Strings Cut 3

A group of thirteen people were cautiously making their way through a ruined city. Most of them were adventurers, judging by their equipnt. They wore armor pieces that didnt quite fit together, carried various pouches that rattled gently with every step, wielded an unusually diverse set of weaponry, and had a charming amount of scruffiness about them. As one might expect of seasoned explorers traversing hostile territory, they made every effort to remain inconspicuous while constantly scanning their surroundings. Danger could leap at them from any direction and at any ti, but they maintained cool heads and avoided jumping at every minor rustling.

Three of them stood out from the rest due to the tattooed insignia on each of their left shoulders. It was a stylized clenched fist inside a cogwheel - the mark of a Blackhand. It was a title given to graduates of the ancient Collegiate of chanists in the city of New Dragunov 3. Once widely recognized as the birthplace of the Artificer Job, the tinkerers cca had been gripped by no less than four catastrophic events that had left the settlent in shambles. The dwarves and gnos that inhabited those lands were a stubborn lot and had stubbornly rebuilt the city over and over, with each iteration being bigger and more efficient than the last.

The Artificers craft had similarly gone through a lot of change since its inception. Much like all other Jobs before and since, it had spawned a number of derivative, specialized vocations. In no particular order, these were Gunner, Operator, and Engineer. The first of those was a spinoff on Ranger that focused on firearms, explosives, and trench warfare as opposed to bows, stealth, and reconnaissance. Operator was a Job with both combat and non-combat applications, as it was required to effectively pilot the various military and civilian vehicles that only an Engineer could create. This third vocation was closest in context to the original Artificer but with an added focus on research and civil engineering, which rendered both its predecessor and the Architect Job effectively obsolete.

All of those new Jobs had first appeared about four to five hundred years ago, during a Shift that had gone down in history as the Rise of Industry. It had seen trendous strides in revolutionizing the way civilizations functioned. That era was the sole reason why oil-guzzling vehicles, chanical servants, remote mining, automated factories, and various firearms had beco so exceedingly common. Prior to the Rise of Industry, such things were considered luxuries since they were far more difficult to create, maintain, and operate when compared to equivalent magical options.

What turned things around was the ergence of Clang, the God of Science and Technology. It had been through His guidance that the world had advanced into its current age. That said, it wasnt as if Clang had just appeared one day out of thin air. The so-called Machine God had once been none other than Goroth, the patron deity of craftsn and artisans. His transformation, and that of his entire religion, had been a natural result of the worlds shifting values and needs over the centuries and millennia.

Most of Terranias pantheon had undergone similar deviations. Teresa, the once Goddess of Truth and Justice, had beco the Goddess of Law and Order. Nyrie had gone from Goddess of Nature and Fertility to Goddess of Life - a title that Solus had relinquished when he beca Solar, the God of Victory and Perseverance. This encroached on Axels divine domains of War and Combat, which had pushed the older deity towards his newest form as the God of Strength and Honor.

There had been other changes among the divines, but all of them ultimately amounted to little more than glorified makeover and reshuffling of responsibilities. This was most apparent in the pantheons list of Taboos, which remained mostly the sa as they had been two millenia prior. The biggest differences were the Taboos of Nyrie and Clang. The forr had changed her forbiddance from mating with animals or monsters to creating unnatural life through magical or nonmagical ans. The new rule was both more specific and more closely related to what the new Goddess of Life had been originally intending

Clang, on the other hand, had completely abandoned Goroths ban on transmutation of minerals once it beca widely known that such magic was inherently cursed. This ant those practitioning it would have violated Lunars unchanged Taboo, making the forr earth gods rule rather redundant. Clangs new Taboo was strikingly similar to Nyries in that it forbade the creation of true artificial intelligence. It was fine to imbue objects and machines with a Personality Matrix since that made them neither sentient nor sapient, but rely interactable.

It was a Taboo that all three of the Blackhands within that group of twelve had broken. It wasnt all that surprising, though. Blackhands were professionally trained since they were eight years old to beco the worlds leading technological experts, equally versed as Engineers and either Operators or Gunners. The trio had clearly chosen the latter of those two combat-oriented Jobs, given the absence of cumberso, smoke-spewing war machines and the dangerous-looking weapons that each of them bore.

The first Blackhand was a female dwarf with pitch-black hair and ashen gray skin - signs that she had been born in the underground kingdom of Hork. The second was also a dwarf, only this one was male, bald, ginger-bearded, and with a surface-dwellers complexion. He most likely hailed from Horks topside sister-state, the kingdom of Saft. Both of them wore headgear that looked like welding masks bolted onto plate helts, and carried a hefty Bazooka-class hand-cannon each. The third Blackhand was a human that had chosen a lighter approach to his equipnt. He was ard with two repeating pistols and a bandolier of specialized ammunition. His face was mostly visible aside from the chanized goggles, revealing a mustachioed mug that had a number of nasty shrapnel scars across the left cheek and forehead.

The gearheads eight escorts were far less elaborately equipped. Factory-made gadgets and contraptions were surprisingly cheap, but they were sowhat notorious for their unreliability. Hand-crafted ones were much better in every aspect except for the fact that their prices were five to ten tis higher. As such, the run-of-the-mill adventurers were decked out in more old-fashioned gear consisting of swords, axes, and bows for the martial types, and wands, staves, and orbs for the magic users.

The one area they hadnt skimped on expenses was in the armor departnt. Though obtained from different manufacturers and varying wildly in design, all of their defensive equipnt was made out of a sky-blue alchemically-created material called kelvar. Nad for its inventor, John Kelvar, the polyr-coated synthetic fabric boasted excellent protection against slashing and piercing attacks for its weight and price. It wasnt all that effective at diffusing the impact of a heavy blow, but it was still an affordable alternative to plate armor. It was also much quieter to move around in, which was important considering the adventurers current Quest required a degree of subtlety.

Wait, the leader whispered. Sothings not right.

The woman in question was one of the nephilim, as evidenced by her glowing yellow eyes and the goat-like horns that jutted up from her scalp and curled around her ears. She sported shoulder-length black hair tied off in a ssy ponytail, a gray-and-green robe that covered her kelvar armor, and a mithril wand with a glowing green pattern etched across it. Her na was Gloria, and as the most experienced mber on the expedition, she had been voted as the one in charge.

Where are Lode and Flank?

She was therefore understandably upset to realize that two of the thirteen people she was responsible for had disappeared. The far more troubling thing was that nobody else in the group had noticed their absence until Gloria had called attention to it. The remaining adventurers imdiately huddled around the three Blackhands they had been hired to escort, forming a protective wall as best as they were able. The sudden developnt had set them all on edge, but they were able to avoid losing their cool and remained on high alert.

Their admirable level-headedness was helped along by their less-than-admirable lack of concern for the missing duo. As veteran mbers of the Axe Coast rcenaries, all of them had grown accustod to losing people on a job. Because of how loosely the organization operated, it was possible that their mbers might end up on a Quest alongside total strangers or even bitter rivals. Combined with the guilds readiness to hire just about anyone and to accept any request that ca to them, it was no surprise that its roster saw a significant amount of turnover. As such, the Axe Coast rcenaries usually avoided getting too chummy with each other until they had survived at least a few harrowing assignnts together.

That didnt an that they would abandon their guildmates, however. The higher ups forced all of the mbers to carry special recording crystals that could be used to discern what had gone wrong on a failed mission. Deserters were dealt with harshly and quickly, which incentivized their rcenaries to work together no matter how dire things looked. It wasnt a perfect system, but it provided results as far as the guilds bottom line was concerned. It was far less reassuring for people in the field since they had no idea how reliable or capable their temporary teammates were going to be whenever biofuel fell into the cooling unit.

Movent? Gloria asked.

None, boss-lady, the groups Rogue and scout reported. Neither above, nor below.

You sure? Wasnt it the trees that got them? one of them glanced nervously at the scarlet canopy far above their heads.

Cant be, another replied.

How do you know?

Ive heard the noise they make. Trust , its not sothing youd ever forget, let alone fail to notice.

Which ans were not dealing with so blood-sucking dryads, the leader concluded, then turned to the human Blackhand. Mr. Wicks?

Yes? What is it? he responded in a gruff, tired voice.

Can your goggles track their heat signatures? They cant have been gone for more than two minutes, so there might still be a trail.

No, the man said sternly. You were hired to protect us, not vice versa.

You selfish son of a-

Easy, Bigsby, Gloria tried to calm her irate colleague. He has a point, and you know it.

It was hardly the first ti sothing like this had co up. Arrogance was a trait common among those who reeked of Taboo, especially the mad scientist types. It was a stereotype that these Blackhands embodied completely. They had gone against Clangs teachings and had created sentient synthetic life in the form of an android called FR-33. The creature had escaped their secret laboratory and the three Blackhands had traced it to the ruins of Morgana.

It was an annoyingly clever place for FR-33 to seek refuge in. The once prosperous city had been reduced to a rubble-filled graveyard literally overnight when the five scarlet-leafed dryads it was built around suddenly woke up about twenty years ago. The twisted plant-ladies were obsessed with sucking the blood out of living things, but had no interest in a being of circuits and wires like FR-33. Furthermore, the only way to safely traverse the ruins of Morgana was to keep a low profile and avoid drawing the dryads attention. Blackhands were notoriously lacking in subtlety, which ant that Mr. Wicks, Mr. Burnmouth, and Ms. Ashbone couldnt just follow it inside.

That was why they had hired the Axe Coast rcenaries to act as protection and backup while they retrieved FR-33. As part of the agreent, the adventurers had to do all of the heavy lifting so that the Blackhands could preserve their ammunition and energy. The android would not go quietly, and disabling it without destroying it was a task the trio wanted to handle themselves. As such, they adamantly refused to pull their weight unless it was absolutely necessary, even in the current situation where two of their hired escorts had vanished mysteriously.

So, are we gon stay around like trolls with wrenches in our asses or are we gon git going?

We cant move on just yet, Mr. Burnmouth, Gloria insisted. Were contractually obligated to make every effort we can to retrieve fallen guild mbers bodies and personal effects.

Though Lode and Flank were most likely dead, it was possible to bring them back so long as their corpses were brought back to a temple of Helena. The clergy there would know the secrets of resurrection magic, as revealed to them through the Goddess of Love and rcy. They bestowed Her grace upon any who ca to them seeking aid, but such a miracle ca at a price. 2,700 GP, to be exact. That was the combined cost of the materials required to perform the resurrection ceremony, plus a little sothing to compensate the Priests for sacrificing a bit of their FTH. Furthermore, it was impossible to revive those who had been dead for more than five days, had died of old age, had any Level of Taboo, or who had already been restored to life once. There were so other restrictions, but the biggest one was that Priests needed a mostly intact body to work with. That was why Axe Coast rcenaries required their employees to retrieve the corpses of the fallen if possible. It was a sort of insurance asure ant to put their expendable mbers at ease, and was therefore enforced quite severely.

And the sooner we find them, the sooner we can go after your rogue android, Gloria told the dwarf dryly.

Oh, for- Fine! Wicks, do what she says.

The scarred man sighed and grumbled sothing about bloody incompetent peons before he flicked through his goggles nurous lenses. Switching to thermal vision, he found no heat signals other than those huddled around him. He was about to snidely inform Gloria that she had wasted his ti when he then noticed sothing odd. The air was much cooler than it should have been one a late sumr day. Granted, the titanic hylt trees cast a thick shade over the entire area, but it still shouldnt have been that cold.

Boss-lady? Is it or is it kinda chilly all of a sudden, the Rogue spoke up as if on cue.

Quiet, too. No wind to shake the leaves, one of the other rcs pointed out.

And we have a bunch of heavy-duty sinners with us, soone else added in a hushed tone.

Murmurings of Code K-19 spread throughout the rcenaries, causing their clients to grow curious at the unknown designation.

Whats K-19? the female Blackhand asked.

Standard Axe Coast rcenaries procedure, Maam. Nothing to worry about, Gloria reassured her. Well handle things from here.

Hmpf. You better. We paid top coin for you so-called professionals.

Alright, gents, the nephilim turned to the others. K-19 is in effect. You know the drill, so lets get this done.

The hirelings turned around and began slowly but surely spreading out while walking backwards. They kept a tight grip on their weapons and looked around carefully as if they were searching for sothing. The Blackhands in the middle were quite puzzled as to what the rcenaries were doing, but the strangely coordinated formation kept them from voicing any protests. They did feel a bit exposed, however, which led them to unholster and load their weapons.

Please refrain from using those guns, Gloria softly warned them. Thats a sure-fire way to get the dryads attention.

Dont presu to give us orders, Mr. Wicks sneered. You work for us.

Its your own funeral, she mumbled under her breath.

A tense silence fell on the area as the rcenaries continued to fan out while facing the gearheads in the middle. The ruins they were in were mostly flattened and devoid of cover, which allowed them to keep close tabs on one another at all tis. It seed as though they were watching each others backs, possibly trying to bait out whatever hidden enemy had ghosted two of their number. Once they were a good thirty or so ters from the Blackhands, Gloria raised her clenched fist. She jerked it once, then once more. When she gave the signal for the third ti, all of the rcenaries suddenly broke into a full sprint as they scattered into the surrounding woods.

Did did they just abandon us? Burnmouth asked dumbly.

Filthy cowards, Ashbone grit her teeth. Ill turn them into fuel when I get my hands on them.

We can deal with those worms later, Wicks stated. Right now we need to fall back.

Those rcenaries were supposed to serve as a distraction for the bloodthirsty dryads while the Blackhands subdued FR-33. It wasnt an impossible task since they just had to stall them, and the tree-ladies offensive capabilities had been well docunted over the last two decades. However, the cowards had been right about one thing - there was definitely sothing else going on. By the ti they had scattered the air temperature had dropped so low that a thin layer of fog was starting to form on the insides of the Blackhands visors and goggles.

Wicks, check for mana density.

Burnmouth had the right idea. Wide-scale magic like that could typically be traced by asuring the ambient mana. It was an ability that had once required a special organ, Skill, or Perk, but the Rise of Industry had seen to it that anyone could do it so long as they acquired a special set of lenses. Doing so wasnt easy or cheap, but Wicks had been able to manufacture a set with relative ease. After all, he couldnt have helped create FR-33 unless he was imnsely proficient at the Engineer Job.

Wicks? the male dwarf turned around. Wicks?! Whered ya go ya bastard?!

The man had disappeared without a trace or a sound. A pair of footprints in the dry grass was all that was left of him.

Damn it all! I should have done this from the start.

Growing agitated and sowhat desperate, the man aid his portable cannon. The armor-piercing shell within the heavy gun was capable of punching through almost anything, including an ancient hylt trees Ironbark. He had been planning to use the weapon on the dryads, completely unaware that attacking their humanoid forms was as effective as pissing against the wind. With no such targets in sight, the dwarf unwittingly aid at where he should have if he hoped to actually harm a dryad - the trunk of her tree. It was an act that was guaranteed to grab the violent vegetables attention.

However, for better or for worse, that did not happen. When Burnmouth pulled the trigger, the weapon made a clunk instead of a bang. Looking down at it, he saw a sticky translucent thread had jamd the firing chanism. Overco with a fit of wild panic, he tried to throw the gun away, but the mysterious substance had glued his hands to the handle and barrel. He frantically turned around to Ashbone for help, but she was also gone. Well, most of her. Unlike the two rcenaries and Mr. Wicks, her head was still there.

More precisely, her cleanly severed head that dripped with blood as it hung from a hair-thin spider thread.

Ah AHHHHHHH!

The dwarf scread, completely unable to comprehend what was going on. A glob of more webbing then splattered against his mouth, instantly silencing his cries. He then felt a freezing chill as so rock-hard limbs embraced him from behind and held sothing incredibly sharp to his neck.

Easy now, tktktktktkt, a voice as smooth as silk chittered into his ear. You might wake up the quintuplets, and we dont want that, do we?

Despite his better judgent, Burnmouth slowly turned his head to glance at his assailant. He saw a pale womans face with dark purple hair. She had flawless skin and sharp features, especially the large mandibles that flanked the sides of her fanged mouth. It was her eight orange bug-like eyes that frightened him the most, though. They were the defining trait of the one entity that all Taboo bearers feared. She had amassed many aliases throughout the years - the Phantom Assassin, the Gods Garbage Girl, the Embrace of Death, and That Scary Spider Lady That Ate That Guys Face. Admittedly that last one wasnt all that widespread, but it was a no less accurate ans of referring to the worlds deadliest assassin.

Her full na was Dreaheath Uniolphial Maramakartor. As one might expect, the tundra webstalker had changed sowhat over the past two millennia. Her icy carapace now covered almost all of her body aside from her stomach, inner thighs, and cleavage - gaps that she had given up on questioning long ago. There were other physical changes, but the most significant one concerned her extra limbs. Instead of six sword-tipped appendages attached to her back, she instead had eight blades of magical ice that drifted around her and responded to her every whim. A curtain of freezing mist fell from her shoulders like a cloak, signifying her greatly increased elental abilities.

Drea as the Hero of Death, by dmaxcustom