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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 2:03:46 GMT -5
Tharn rallied his men together, "Men, return to the ship's landing location and radio in for a pick up. I will take Private Gart and push onward in search of more allies. We not only have the bugs to worry about, but the elves as well. Go join the main fleet. I will radio for pick up if needed."
Tharn's men saluted him and marched back whence they came.
Tharn smirked as he placed a hand on Gart's shoulder, "It is just you and me now, kid. We will push onwards and look for a village and warn them. Hopefully, it will be one of the larger ones around here."
Gart looked up to his Warchief and nodded. He seemed excited, albeit having to fight for his life only minutes ago.
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 2:13:55 GMT -5
The desert of Managassca appeared to be large compared to it's original appearance outside the planet as only being a round patch of sand capping the northpole. The air is dry and sweltering, almost as if they had been in an oven for hours. How such races can live in this heat without shaving their furs is beyond the logics of a normal human.
It didn't take long, however, to hear the sound of squealling and bones bashing against rock, wood and flesh, yelling as the thundering sounds of such natural materials hitting the ground filled their ears. It seems they are about to approach one of the Snarlhog tribes in the midst of their enrichment play.
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 2:22:43 GMT -5
Tharn looked to Gart, "Do our people proud, boy. Something you do our fail to do may reflect poorly in their eyes," he said, "We Drakens are at home here in the heat, but do not decline a drink if offered, even if you are not thirsty. Always act friendly when meeting a new people."
Gart nodded as he swallowed hard. He was afraid that something he may do will cause an interstellar war.
Tharn continued onward, heading towards the origin of the sounds. Gart tailed closely behind him.
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 2:36:09 GMT -5
What could pass for the tribe of the Snarlhogs would make the poor on earth proud of their homeless decor under an abandoned subway. All the houses were piles of stone and trees piled on top of each other with only a wide opening as evidence that someone could actually fit inside.
What little rocks and trees were still standing became ramming tools for the Snarlhogs plowing into them with enough force to bowl them over. Once a Snarlhog manages to knock down a tree or rock, he or she throws their beefed up muscles into the air and squeal with victory over their accomplishments. It's almost certain that this is the result of the race's antics on a good day.
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 12:40:07 GMT -5
Tharn reached into his satchel and pulled out a horn than looked like it was carved from the elaborate horn of some beast. He blew into the horn, letting out a triumphant sound. He was trying to call the attention of the Snarlhogs.
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 12:44:36 GMT -5
The entire tribe came to a screeching halt and glared at Tharn, their eyes crawling with blood veins as their fun has been abruptly interrupted.
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 14:33:01 GMT -5
Tharn placed his arm across his chest and said, "I hate to disturb your festivities, but I come seeking the cooperation of this tribe. Where is your leader?"
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 15:18:07 GMT -5
"Leader!?" one of the Snarlhogs squeals, "We don't waste our time making leaders! We want to bash things! And you just ruined our most important tradition of the day!"
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 16:52:49 GMT -5
Tharn growled, "Then I will give you this warning: the Swarm has arrived to this planet. If you continue with this charade and do nothing to help, you will all die a painful death."
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 17:07:54 GMT -5
The Snarlhogs stare at Tharn before laughing boisterously.
"A swarm? You expect us to be afraid of a bunch of insects?" one of the boasts.
"We eat such bugs for breakfast!" honks another, "The latest generation of the desert land are weakening in spirit and pride!"
It's obvious someone else from the Lionel or Paledon tribe have tried to warn the Snarlhogs about the situation, only to hear them ridicule their bravery out of a blind belief that the Vessh'Kul were no bigger or deadlier than the average earth bug.
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 17:17:24 GMT -5
Tharn furrowed his brow before turning away from the Snarlhog. He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. The Snarlhog couldn't see what it was, though, for he kept his hand tightly gripped around it.
"Fine, if you don't believe the danger of the Swarm," said Tharn, "You will need to see it yourself..."
A small, oval shaped object fell from Tharn's hand. When it hit the ground, it exploded with a flash of light.
A hologram appeared before the Snarlhog. It was showing a recording captured by a Draken soldier. The voice of the soldier was cut off at certain parts, and the image was shaky, but the Snarlhog could see a war torn battlefield. Massive, bipedal insects with four arms were swarm over the Draken frontline. Beetles the size of mountains were marching through the waves of the swarm, spraying a plasma from the horns on their head. Wherever the Draken looked, all that could be seen was a black ocean of the shells of these insects.
Giant, flying insects blotted out the sun, their cries hurt the ears of the Snarlhog.
"--warm is--elming us we stand--gainst these creatur--" said the Draken, "The Vessh'Kul ha---taken this---world."
One of the insects attack the Draken. All that could be heard were the pained screams as the Draken was torn to pieces by the creature.
The hologram dissipated, and Tharn picked up the object he dropped.
"The Vessh'Kul has several names given to them by the survivors of their onslaught. The Eternal Swarm, the Black Ocean, the Endless Wave... No matter where they go, death is left in their wake," said Tharn.
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 17:29:50 GMT -5
"Bah! We don't care the size of such insects!" The Snarlhog snorts, barely fazed by how much hearing he lost, "If we see such things, we will crush them with our heads! We love bashing things that try to threaten us!"
The others boast and laughed about how they would mutilate the Vessh'Kul. They have either taken the warning out of context, or are so obsessed with bashing things with their head, they don't even care if they, themselves, get curshed in the process.
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 17:38:07 GMT -5
Tharn pressed his fingers against his temples, "By the spirits... It is like trying to speak with a stone toad!"
Gart chuckled to himself as he listened to the Snarlhogs.
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Post by White-Jet on Jul 30, 2008 17:52:27 GMT -5
"Snarlhogs don't believe everything from a Shared Dream," Hot-Blood said as he stood at the entrance of the tribe, "They are stubborn and continue to dabble in their own pride. I fear it is best you do not triffle with them and move on to warn other tribes."
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Post by Gen Gravy on Jul 30, 2008 17:54:42 GMT -5
Tharn growled with annoyance, "If they fail to realize the situation at hand... They may die. I do not want more blood on my hands."
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