Renderotica

Unstoned 10 ….. ripped off



The second phase of Thal’s assault on the Medusa compound was triggered by the emergence of the Skeletons in the midst of the Zhrau, which in itself demonstrated the Litch’s brilliant strategy. 

These were monsters that could be eliminated by gunfire, if enough hits could be obtained on their bones to make them collapse. The Zhrau did so, but this turned a defense that should have been facing outwards back in on itself. The gaps between bones meant that a good many rounds fired at the skeletons just kept going. The Skeletons did not manage to kill a single Zhrau, but stray rounds wounded ten and killed four techs & troopers…. including the aimer of the Blooker-Gun and a Comms-Tech standing next to Lt. Hraakt.

“Cease fire! Use your powered armor to break them. Heavy weapons and light troops face outwards and defend-“

The Lieutenant’s words came too late, sensible as they were, and he still had the volume turned down so he missed the first reports of Thal’s best punch. 

Seven Vampires arrived at the compound after dealing with the Snipers. None of them were as powerful as Taras, but they were aided by yet another distraction. These were five Phantoms, or Wraiths, or whatever other name one would give to howling, ghostly apparitions that Thal had temporary control over. The harm they could do was limited, but the psychological effect was enough for the Vampires, and three other beings, to close in and do their work. 



When the melee’ was at its worst Hraakt gave up on commanding his troops because he sensed that anything he said would only add to the confusion, and tried to concentrate on the prizes he had been sent to collect. 

He looked in time to see a centaur and her Elfin rider bolt, wailing with pain (and perhaps outrage) as they brushed past the Techs and distracted Troopers. Like the rest, they had either been nude when stoned or their clothes had long rotted away, but the rider wore boots that had turned to stone and back with her, and both held weapons that had withstood the test of time, and somehow had not been removed by creature-seekers. These items were considered treasure in themselves, and the iron-hafted Halberd was rigged to zap the Centaur when she revived, and the bow was chained to a spike driven into the paving-stones under them. 

Hraakt saw that the un-stoned pair had abandoned their weapons to flee, and given the scene before them this was perfectly understandable. There was also the fact, that, as he had been briefed, they would revive as newborns. They would not even know how to use the weapons, but the centaur could run, and the rider was doing a credible job of hanging on. … until they passed between two columns and vanished into thin air!

Before Hraakt could even warn them, a Tech and two Troopers that were chasing the pair also passed the point of no return and vanished as well.

Most Zhrau had little interest in Magics, but they understood it, and the Lt. knew exactly what he had seen. “A dimension-door!” He dashed across the Pavilion to a Zhrau Sergeant bent over a screen, nervously punching away at controls that did not seem to be responding. This was a very specialized device, and another key item in the Zhrau defenses. “What is going on here! That gadget of yours is guaranteed to to block enchantments, of any kind!”

The sergeant glanced up at him with a wale-eyed look, then back at the display. “This kind of power, its too much. This…. it isn’t supposed to exist!”

Hraakt slapped the back of the Sargent’s head and shouted; “Compensate! If you can’t block it, then scramble it somehow. They are teleporting our captives away! You want to be next?” He shook the display as if that would help. “Concentrate on your job, I’ll cover you!”

That promise lasted all of ten seconds.

As soon as he left the pavilion, Hraakt saw something like a missile streaking towards him. He threw himself flat on the grass, but the Fireball passed over him and exploded in the Gazebo itself. No mage’s fireball he’s ever heard of had such power; the columns were all blown outwards and the roof lifted several meters upwards… before collapsing down on top of the half-dozen Zhrau specialists still inside.

Hraakt himself was flipped end-over end and landed halfway to the pool but was unharmed, a testament of the value of even light Zhrau armor. He leapt to his feet and looked around him, noting that the centaur that was supposed to be reining here was also missing, and that something monstrous was heading his way. A monstrous, skeletal thing wearing dark armor stalked around the pool, crawling with insect-like creatures and radiating the kind of menace that few Zhrau had ever imagined. Hraakt dropped the grenade launcher, which now seemed to be such a puny thing, and sprinted for the landing where a prized artifact should be waiting for him.

The Lieutenant was betting his life that the black-metal halberd that a Centaur had dropped would be his salvation, and he reached it just ahead of the Death Knight with time to yank the power-cord out of it’s socket. However, he was wrong to try.

The Halberd was indeed a magical relic, one that was specifically designed for the hands of the Goodly people of the world, and keyed-in to attack Evil. As soon as he touched it, the handle smacked him like a bat meeting a fast-ball, and slammed him into the stone wall behind him. Stunned, all Hraakt could do was slide to the ground, and watch as the Death Knight shook his head at him as if to say “fool” and continue on his way, in search of a more worthy bit of action.





The scene was absolute chaos when Ryya’s little shuttle arrived.

The first thing she asked the Zhrau pilot was; “Air support?”

He shook his head. “Not with us trying to land and another two trying to take off!” He was speaking in terms of what the Air-control office back at the Donut would understand about the situation, and Ryya nodded. In truth, she was not about to land in the middle of THAT mess, and only one of the two shuttles on the ground was trying to gain any lift; the Platoon’s transport had been loaded with the wounded and was trying to get off the ground so that it could clear it’s belly-turret. “And, that!”

The Sentinel was still thrashing around in a thick grove of timber. The crew had resorted to using the machine gun and even the flamethrower to clear itself, but even Ryya could see that whatever it did would be too late to help. All it was doing now was making itself a hazard for low-flying aircraft, and perhaps starting a forest-fire. 

The shuttle was still 30 meters above and 100 meters away from the nearest combat when a grotesque Specter reared up right in front of the cockpit.

“What do I do?!” The pilot squealed, as if Ryya would have all the answers.

This time, she did; “Flip and burn.” she squeaked back. “A short one!” She added as the shuttle’s thruster flipped the VTOL machine onto it’s back and left her hanging from her 5-point harness. 

A short, white-hot blast either disintegrated the Specter and sent the shuttle half a klick from the battlefield before the pilot got control of his machine and, at Ryya’s insistence, heading back into the compound. 





Thal was running out of cannon-fodder, and with good leadership the Zhrau could have prevented the lose of their remaining captives. However, the Lieutenant was still laying stunned where he had fallen and the remaining Zhrau were fighting to save themselves. Ryya saw three things happen nearly simultaneously; Troopers in power-assisted armor smashing skeletons to pieces with their fists or rifle butts, and a Vampire that lingered in one place too long (probably to deliver what it thought was a clever one-liner) was caught in a long burst from a heavy Machine-Gun firing incendiary ammo, and was to pieces before her eyes. This was encouraging, but right after that one of the un-stoned pealed herself away from a marble column, took one look at what was happening all around her, and ran straight to the nearest group of Zhrau.

“Well, of course…” Ryya thought that sensible enough, but before the little woman with short, shaggy hair (the very one that Ahktikmacht had de-pubed with his fingernails during an idle moment the week before) was intercepted by another Vampire who slapped aside a pair of techs. The undead beast wrapped the screaming, nude girl in a tight embrace, and the pair of them sank straight down as if they were riding an invisible elevator. The grass closed over them, leaving no trace of their passage.

Ryya screamed, in rage, and opened the clamshell door on her side of the hovering shuttle. While the pilot swore at her and demanded to know what she was doing, she popped the harness free and clipped a safety cord to her belt, and drew her machine-pistol. She looked at the pilot, holding the gun as if she was making up her mind about who, exactly, she should point it at, and said; “You tell them that the Majorsaid to rally around the cargo shuttle, and they damned well better bring their wounded with them!”

The machine-pistol was known as a ‘Ripper’. Ryya felt clamps extend from it when she thumbed the safety off, and wrap around her fore-arm to keep the weapon steady. This was very helpful to Ryya because she had to use one hand to hold onto the shuttle when she leaned out of the doorway, and let out a battle-cry that she didn’t even know she was making, and triggered the weapon. 

The last of the Zombies and a skeleton crumpled under her 6mm splinter-rounds, but another of the Skeletons was made of sterner stuff. The creature just looked up at her as the bullets bounced off it’s bones, and hefted a massive weapon knows as a maul as if it was considering throwing the 10-kilo thing at her. This was no cannon-fodder, but one of Thal’s senior minions, and the blood and pits of plasteel armor clinging to the maul testified to this fact.

“Tell the assault shuttle to target the skeleton directly under us!”



Even at this level of Technology, fighting troops carried projectile-launching weapons because they could not carry the kind of gear enemy-based weapons demanded. Flying craft were the opposite of that, with their potent power-plants there was no reason for them to bother with chemically-propelled rounds. 

The assault shuttle had twin pulse-lasers, and these were able to destroy the Skeletal Warrior in less than a second.

“Great work! Now see of those will work on the Phantoms!”

They did, and Ryya could see that the tide was turning, but the Zhrau on the ground could not see that yet. The remaining crewman at the Blooker-Gun spiked his gun by shoving a bomb nose-first down the barrel and running for his life before the weapon exploded.

BRAAAM!

He only added to the terror, and morale’ cracked as Ryya shouted; “No! Stand your ground! Get the women!”

She should have added “naked women”, because the Troopers that heard assumed she meant the Zhrau women, and as her shuttle came down to ground-level, armored troopers threw three female techs over-hand past Ryya and into the little cargo-bay behind her. 

Hraakt had been right about one thing; having so many people in a small place like the compound certainly added to the confusion. And speaking of Hraakt; Ryya pointed to a sprawled figure in armor. “What about that one? Do NOT thrown him into a shuttle full of unarmored people!”

They were at their limit, with the seats removed there was only room (and hopefully, lift) for four in the back of her shuttle. There were also sinister figures still darting about in the ruins, and the Zhrau had had enough. Ryya allowed the pilot to take off and get out of the way of the other shuttles, but she insisted on staying behind to take one last look for the un-stoned women, and then hover over the Sentinel it could free itself of the boring grove and leave the area under it’s own power. 

Before it left, Ryya caught a glimpse of something dark and dreadful stalking the ruins, now littered with abandoned Zhrau gear. She had the Sentinel turn and shower the area with a quick barrage of 40 missiles, and then allowed it to make its own way back to friendly territory.

And that was how the raid ended, the largest mass-appearance of the undead during the Zhrau occupation, and the worst defeat they had suffered in decades.



Repercussions were swift and brutal, starting with the Zhrau themselves.



Ryya had returned to the Donut by midnight, dropped off her bruised & bloodied passengers at the Hospital, and spent most of the rest of the night composing a scathing report on what had just happened, and then delivering it to Rakmon. He had few questions (for her) so the young major had time to clean up and change into a fresh uniform before she helped herself to some amphetamines before seeing to the morning routine with the un-stoned women she had come to know as Number One and Number Two. 

While she was taking care of that, she happened to notice her own reflection, and saw that a diagonal red stripe had been sewn into the high color of her tunic. It must have been switched out while she was showing in her own cabin, but Ryya gave no thought for her personal security at that moment. The little red stripe, shorter than her finger and as thin as the blade of a knife, carried great significance. One red stripe was awarded for each Combat that the wearer was a veteran of. 

It has not even entered Ryya’s head that she was not entitled to wear one because none of the military Techs she had previously worked with had one, not even the Colonel she has served before the Marshall had claimed her. Privately, it made her feel something akin to shame; “All I did was hang out of the shuttle door and empty a magazine of pistol-ammo…”



When she entered the conference room she saw that Rakmon’s rage knew no bounds, and he was venting his rage on Hraakt. The rape was well underway already; Hraakt was naked and his head & shoulders were on the floor, his arms lashed behind his back and his ass up in the air, and that ass was speared by Rakmon’s cock. The Marshal berated and cursed the Lieutenant, who’s cock had been coaxed into a humiliating erection that Rakmon was using as a handle as he slammed into the blubbering, weeping, helpless victim. 

It was worse than what Rakmon had done to her, and Ryya froze in the doorway as Rakmon forced Hraakt to spray his own face with his seed, and then Rakmon added his own to the mess. Hraakt was so broken that he could not stop wailing and weeping, which outraged Rakmon beyond rational thought. Still holding Hraakt inverted with one hand and a knee, he made a wedge shaped fist with the other and roared; “One last chance, be silent!”

Hraakt could not obey, he seemed not even aware of the order, lost in the horror of the night before and what was happening to him now. Rakmon git his attention by driving his fist right through his anus and deep into his bladder with the shriek of a Martial Artist. Hraakt also screamed, reminding Ryya of the night before, which had been the first time in her life that she had ever heard men scream. It was a ghastly sound, the worst thing she had ever heard and Ryya decided it was the sound she hated most in all the world.

The cream did not last long. Rakmon lifted Hraakt bodily up into the air by the hand wedged into his rectum, and slammed Hraakt head-first into the hard ceramic floor. Once, twice, and then a third time that finally ended the screams and left Hraakt inert and sprawled at Rakmon’s feet. 

The Marshall turned away and went to the counter where coffee and other things were kept, and started washing his hands. He half-turned from the sink and glanced at Ryya, and then nodded at his half-placid cock, still protruding from his trousers.

Ryya dropped her briefcase and data-pad, dashed to the sink. She wetted a towel and used that to wash his cock off, barely looking up at him until she was done. A tight, half-smile was the best he could manage when he spoke in a voice low enough for only her to hear; “A whore or a social-climber would have used her mouth.”

“I am neither, High One.” she answered in an equally low tone.

Hi smile was less forced now. Rakmon glanced at her exposed cleavage, the sign that he was his alone to abuse, and then at the red stripe on her collar. “Yes, I know, and that is going to make tonight that much more enjoyable.”

“T-tonight?”

He ignored her stammering question and stepped past her as soon as she was done closing his pants back up. Some of the other Zhrau in the room (there were ten or fifteen of them , Ryya now noticed) had checked in the wreck that had been Lt. Hraakt. “Alive?” Rakmon asked brusquely. One of them nodded. “Tell Downbelow Station they have another whore-boy for the kennels.”

Ryya controlled her shaking and hide her nausea when she took her seat to the left of Rakmon’s place at the table. Everyone, the Marshal included, was relived to see that Ahktikmacht’s seat was empty. Twenty other seats were filled by the time the meeting started, and Ryya was not the only non-Zhrau. At the other end of the oval table was a bare-chested Reptilian that she could not identify, neither by name nor by species. There was also a human man that she could have felt some kinship with, but his face was so horribly scared that Ryya could barely look at him. 

“We will start with the final tally.” Rakmon had to clears throat for Ryya to realized that this was her cue.

“Nineteen killed, seventeen wounded not including …” Ryya’s eyes flickered at where Hraakt had been, “… that. All of the Un-Stoned and four of our people are missing, including two troopers, one Tech and the gunner from the assault shuttle. Both of the later are female Zhrau.”

“A gunner?” One of the naval officers asked. “Did she bail out into the middle of that mess, after taking off?”

“Since the escape hatch was still locked from the inside, we must assume that she did not bail out at all.” Ryya found that she could hide her emotions in the clipped, mechanical tone that had annoyed Rakmon when they first met. “The devices meant to block spell-magics were apparently overwhelmed.”

Rakmon did not seem to have any problem with the cold manner Ryya delivered her report. He asked a question he already knew the answer to; “And the enemy? Witnesses stated that they were overwhelmed by hundreds, if not thousands, of undead things.”

“There were not even ONE hundred. Spectral analysis (Ryya winced at the use of that term in this context) reveals that there were only 50 Zombies, 30 Skeletons plus one of abnormal power, but these were distractions and were decimated. The real damage was done by seven vampires and five Ghost-like apparitions, and the Death Knight. There were a couple of other signatures that we were unable to identify, including one that was of such a high level of power that it is assumed that this was Thal.”

“The thing itself? He was there?”

Ryya nodded. “Hidden, but yes, we believe so.” The question had come from the scarred human that she did not like looking at, and she noticed that the Zhrau at the table were looking at him, with annoyance and some confusion. 

Rakmon introduced the two strangers briskly; “This man is known as The Exorcist, a mage and a Bounty Hunter who specializes in the elimination of the Undead. El Villianvelp there,” he nodded at the Reptilian, “hails from a nearly extinct tribe that considered Elves to be a delicacy before we arrived. That sort of cannibalism is now illegal, of course, except in cases where the resistance is concerned. You will find that he is exceptionally talented at sniffing that species out.” The Reptilian tongue flickered, and he nodded back at Rakmon.

“I take it that our priority will be the recovery of the Unstoned now, rather than our own missing?” This question came from a senior Pilot who had so many red strips that they went all the way around his collar.

“Correct.” Rakmon grated, his voice leaving no room at all for discussion on that point.

“What will happen to what is left of the Platoon now?” an Army commander asked.

Rakmon shrugged, and looked back at the General that asked the question. “The usual things, I suppose?”

“If I may make a suggestion?” The Exorcist asked. “Disband the Platoon, as a unit it is now useless. However, you now have dozens of Troopers that have had experience with fighting the Undead. Since Thal is now in this, we will probably be seeing more of them, so if you distribute the survivors they can share their experience with the others.” The man’ s throat was in such back shape, and there was so little left of his nose, that speaking so many words had been a considerable effort. Ryya was able to look at him now, he was mortal after all, and in a subservient position with the Zhrau much as she was herself. 

Rakmon and the General exchanged glances again. “We will take it under advisement. Since you are the closest thing we have to an expert here, can you tell us what might have motivated Thal to come out of his lair and make a move like this?”







“The ol’ monster be positionin’ his-self to be ruler of dis whole world once the Zhrau get all fragged-up!” Fang spoke at nearly the same moment the question was being asked at the top of the Beanstalk.

Just before they were preparing to leave their secret chamber, Taras had reacted to a silent command from Thal and carved a circle of power into the table with his fingernails. Seconds later, three naked and terrified women had materialized out of thin air and plopped down into the circle, one right after the other. The Elves present, Fang included, used soft hugs and music to calm the new arrivals and return them to sanity. The cuffs were quickly removed and destroyed, and everyone left the hide-out as quickly as they could. Nobody knew if the Zhrau had been able to detect the presence of three sets of cuffs in one place and none of them were willing to take a chance.

Taras and Mira, plus a handful of others, left through the tunnel to a nearby crypt, and the rest crowded into the dank hold of an old scow that would not make land for another three days. 



“What makes you say that?” Merrin did not scoff at Fang’s outburst. He asked his question with sharp clarity and a penetrating stare. 

“He ne’er….” she cleared her throat and tried again; “He never would’a gone into da’ compound unless he had ta’ in order to make his spells work, an’ he would’na done that ‘cept to make a clean sweep … snatch all the girls to prove he can take do as he pleases no matter what Zhrau throw at him. Did it practically all by his lonesome, too, yeah?”

Merrin started to argue, and gave up right away. “Well…. yes. He could replace the mindless Undead in a few days, but we were personally involved in our own operations. What makes you think he’s trying to set himself above the rest of us?”

Fang started counting on her fingers; “He never met with us himself, always working through minions like Taras. He blew off the meeting yesterday that we all agreed to, and it fits with his history when he was a King!”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” 

There should not have been enough room in the hold for anyone to hide, but this voice came from someone that had not been there a moment before. Phaing leapt her her feet and whirled …. and froze in place as a ghastly apparition stepped through a bulkhead as if it was an illusion..

The thing she confronted was made of bones blackened by fire ages ago, and still covered with the shiny charcoal that was all that remained of the flesh the man had once been made of. Only the teeth remained white and pearly, making a hideous contrast with the rest of the skull. This Litch wore immaculately clean black robes with white trim, and a similarly clean cylindrical headpiece with long skirting in the black half, instead of the usual hood. The headpiece was held in place by a golden filigree crown with a central gem that was so utterly black that it seemed to absorb all the light around it. Seemed to, because within the skull of the Litch was a huge diamond that emitted a kaidescopbic glow as it slowly rotated, and sent rays of stomach-turning light through his eye-sockets and nostrils, as well as his mouth when the creature spoke. 

“I take it I need no introduction?”

“Thal.” Fang squeaked in a voice two octaves higher than her normal voice. She scurried back away when Thal stepped to within touching distance, eyes wide and with her hands on her weapons. Fang only stopped when she realized that her retreat had put her farther from Thal than Merrin was, and he had barely moved. She shook her terror away like a we Dog shaking itself. Despite the fact that she had nearly wet herself when Thal had appeared, Fang reacted with a shadow of her snarky wit; “Nice to see you in such good condition after that battle. Not even a smudge on those robes.”

“I never felt that being one of the undead was an excuse to become a slob.” Thal’s sepulchral voice was unearthly, but not as menacing as he could have made it. He turned his head towards Merrin, who was facing him calmly with hooded eyes, and retaining his fully human guise. “It appears you were expecting me to put in an appearance.”

“I…. suspected you might show up.” Merrin gestured to a pile of rope. “Have a seat. Stay a while.”

Thal assumed a sitting position, legs crossed and his skeletal hands resting on his knees as if he were a Holy Man ready to deliver a sermon from atop the mountain… but he was not sitting on the ropes. Instead he hovered three hand-spans above the deck. 

“You-“ Phaing was cut off by Merrin. Without looking away from Thal, he snapped his fingers at her and pointed to the crate she had been sitting on before. Fang huffed, but sat down to show she had some understanding of proper decorum. 

Thal rewarded her good behavior by answering the question that Fang had been eager to ask; “The women un-stoned by our foes have all been safely transported to safer areas. In addition to the three I gave to you, two were gated straight to the sanctuary, two escaped all on their own, and two remain with my people.”

“People?” Fang barked.

“With me.” Thal tipped his head forward a fraction of an inch, making his jawline appear to take on a smile-like curve. “For now.”

There was nothing Fang or Merrin could say about that, not after Thal had given them three and kept only two for himself. Whatever trauma they were enduring.

Leetah was cowering behind Merrin with her hands on his hips and peeking at Thal over his shoulder, clearly horrified by Thal but unwilling to leave Merrin unsupported. She alone asked; “Who are they, and how are they doing?”

Thal ignored her. He was here to speak to Merrin and Fang, and nobody of a lesser status meant anything to him. When Fang started to repeat the question, he snapped; “A combative Centaur and a spunky little human woman, I have not had time to ask their names yet. However, when I get the chance, I will be asking them about their past, and what they might know about Kry-Rang Sho.”

That name rang a bell in Leetah’s mind, but she could not place it until Merrin said; “The Mithril is not a priority yet, and we should not be thinking of any treasure-hunts until we are all at the Sanctuary.”

“The Mithril, the Grand Master…. oh, you mean the Key to White Silver?” Leetah saw the leaders of all three factions turn their heads toward her, and wished she had kept her mouth shut. She had no idea that they had been talking about the most valuable Artifact on the planet.

“Who is this?” Thal asked with a touch of incredulity in his voice.

“Say hello to Leetah.” Fang said happily before Merrin could open his mouth. “And I gotta say, she is turning out to be one hell of a Sage!”