Balanced is boring. Bride.

Awakening ??? 2015/06/29(Mon)05:36 No. 651627 ID: 56b8fc
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The Awakening is hardly gentle. Your mind screams into the mortal shell that rests within you, ripping and tearing a place for itself. Memories flash by, too fast for you to catch a distinct image before being violently thrown aside. Separation is finally achieved when a hole is formed within the mortal's mind, a place for you to reside when you are subdued, where you can not infringe upon his identity. Magical power begins to flow through the steel and iron monstrosity that makes up your physical form, stripping away rust and jump starting systems. You feel a flicker of thought from your new mortal host as lights begin to flicker on within. For a moment you are unsure why, but the man's thoughts solidify rapidly, opening a sort of dialogue between the two of you.

The flickering of life within the screens arrayed before me only serves to confirm what the buzzing in the back of my head must mean. The Spirit has awoken. The sparking of magical circuits heralds the final awakening process of the shell we now both inhabit. This is good.

I welcome you, Great Spirit.

We have scant few minutes to converse, for the call of war quickly grows insistent. However, I can answer a few questions as you shake off your long slumber and I prepare to allow you complete control of your vessel, as the Covenant dictates.

They must be quick, questions, though, we are under attack even now, and Your people require your aid.

Whoop... Just realized I forgot to mention this:

You are the Watcher, Embodiment of He Who Never Sleeps.

who are we fighting and why?

>>651627
Who are you, what war is it we fight, for what cause, against what enemy?

What kind of tech do we have?

Who watches the Watcher? Where are my hands? Do we have enuff dakka?

What do we need to know, and how do we learn it?
What allies or other powers can we call upon in our time of need, and what are the costs?

To Battle The Host 2015/06/29(Mon)15:24 No. 651737 ID: 56b8fc
File 143561667554.png - (41.29KB , 640x480 , InitinalStartup.png )

Enemies of the Phoenix Throne. There are a number of them. I cannot say who exactly, or why, the attacks were rather... sudden.

As for me I... no longer bear a name worth having. I am your Host, and little more... a body and mind to allow you purchase among the living.

Technology is... well, it is as it has always been in my life. I find the question hard to answer. More specifically, Your current form has access to-

The flickering screens finish their process, displaying information across them. You note your Host looking over the screens himself, slight confusion emanating from his thoughts before one of your questions, along with some of the information from the screens, seems to startle him.

The Watcher? Necro Talons? What is this? Phoenix Preserve me, you're-

An explosion interrupts his thoughts, and the rattle of gunfire is heard, along with the screams of the dying. Your own form barely registers the bullets ringing off its metal armor. The danger, however, triggers an insistent need to defend yourself, to prepare for the making of war. Your mind envelops your host's instantly, cutting him off from the outside world as you assume control of the machine-body, temporarily forcing your Host into a subservient "dormant" state.

Your senses awaken to the scene around you, "eyes" taking in the corpses of various individuals, as well as a group of five men, all idly searching the room. One, who you assume to be the leader, makes his way over to you, kicking the side of your armored leg before turning his back and reporting back to someone. It seems he does not realize you have awakened.

"Yeah, we found it... Yes sir... No sir, not one alive... I... I don't know sir... No sir... I apologize sir... Yes sir... Understood sir..."

You eye the man, even as you dip into your mortal host's thoughts once again, searching for information that would be of use to you. You quickly find it, resting within a memory of some briefing from someone called a "Magos". The operation of this Missile Launcher is simple enough, lock onto a target and fire. The sword as well is a simple concept. This Necro Talon, however, conjurers memories from before your slumber. It seems to be a pale shade of your original armament, the Reaper's Hand, the device with which you wielded the necromantic energy that makes up your magical specialty. This one seems weaker, and not as capable of channeling your gifts, but it will suffice for the moment. The other, the Cloak of Shadows, seems more inclined towards shrouding your presence, making it harder for others to focus on your form, whether to hit you or to notice you at all.

Still, while it seems that the magical circuits connected to them are running fine, and you are charged with magical power, the objects themselves lie dormant... perhaps you need to expend your power to activate whatever functions exist within? Regardless, these ones before are invaders it seems, and must be dealt with accordingly. The leader stands before you, back turned, while his subordinates are scattered about the relatively small room. Their guns seem unlikely to harm you, so you may deal with these ones as you please.

Break the leader's neck then throw the body at their comrades. Proceed to engage the remaining targets with the sword. Kill them quickly but leave one alive and unable to move freely.

Disable leader, destroy squad: We need intelligence about the extent of the threat, and the leader would most likely have some in this group of hostiles. Conserve ammunition, the range is close and we need to perform a successful test of the missile launcher at range to know more about our armament.

We only have limited magical reverse, and we're facing a squad of infantry. I doubt our big guns are needed to dispatch the threat- the only real reason to use them would be to test the weapons and evaluate their function. We could likely end this with just the sword.

Prisoner The Host 2015/06/29(Mon)19:06 No. 651784 ID: 56b8fc
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You ponder only a moment. You require more information, to better understand this threat and counter it. This means the leader shall be your objective, all others are merely in the way. A final check of your machine body reveals it is ready, and you would smile if you had the lips to do so. Instead, you surge to your feet, towering over the men before you by three, perhaps four, feet. Your right hand, clenched in a fist, crashes into the side of the leader, shattering bone with a satisfying crunch, but leaving him alive and relatively well. He would be strong enough to answer questions. With your primary objective subdued, all that remained were the others.

The first, barely a foot away, manages to turn to face the sudden disturbance, just in time for you left hand, the Necro Talon, to rend through his flimsy body armor and tear through the flesh underneath. His life is ended painlessly and without more than a gurgle to note his passing. You turn to the others, the clamps holding the blade onto your back releasing the weapon to your grasp, even as the clatter of gunfire against your metal frame sounds. One of the men screams something, you believe a prayer of some sort, but you pay it little heed, closing the distance and cleaving through another, leaving him as only two halves to fall to the floor. The chatter of gunfire falters from one of the remaining two, the man's fear overcoming whatever sense of duty he may posses, but he and his ally are already doomed, close as they are to you. His friend is impaled by the sword, while he is met by the clawed embrace of your Talon, lifeblood spilling onto the floor from the deep gashes rent into his flesh.

You allow a moment of silence as you survey the room, apparently a storeroom of some kind now covered in yet more blood. Bodies of soldiers are now beside those of men dressed in a robe like fashion. You pull memories from your host and match them to an earlier phrase, "Magos". It seems these ones were the ones who prepared this vessel. None have survived, however, and ultimately their deaths were not in vain. You have awakened to defend your people. You quickly move to your prisoner, groaning in the corner, securing the blade against your back once again as you do.

You reach down and grasp the man by the throat with your "normal" hand upon reaching him, lifting him into the air and putting enough pressure upon his neck to ensure he understands the threat you pose to his life. He struggles for what little breath he can obtain, limbs flailing uselessly against metal, and you leave him like that as you briefly check your ability to speak. A small beep confirms you are capable of doing so, and you ready yourself, prepared to ask the questions that will grant you the information you seek.

Do you have any muffins?

Where are we located? What year is it? What are the major kingdoms of this time?

Where do you think you are, and why are you here?

>As for me I... no longer bear a name worth having. I am your Host, and little more... a body and mind to allow you purchase among the living.

THIS MENTALITY IS DISALLOWED.
You were a person and even if your memories have been wiped you still are a person. You can and should have hours and goals and fears.
... and uh I'll try not to do that possessing bit too often, can't promise anything from the rest of us though.

>questions for the enemy leader
WHAT IS YOUR NAME
WHAT IS YOUR QUEST
WHAT IS THE CAPITAL OF ASSYRIA
(Actually that last one could get us some useful information about the world so do actually ask it)

>>651824
THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION.

APPARENTLY I AM VERY CAPSLOCK HAPPY TODAY.

Could we bring our host out of dormancy? He or she has context and familiarity we lack. Their inner commentary and translation would likely aid data collection.

>questions
Identity.

Interrogation The Host 2015/06/30(Tue)15:54 No. 652014 ID: 56b8fc
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The Host's mind remains dormant regardless of your wish. You have registered this area as hostile, and until such time as it is safe, or you have confirmed you have moved to a safer place, they will remain so. The Covenant dictates it must be so. You can, however, draw upon their memories to provide you the context you seek, to some degree. It is in this way that you identify the date as the 3rd Day of the 4th Month of the Year 1743 since the Founding of the Phoenix Throne. Likewise, your current location is within one of the various workshops of these "Magos", where they perform whatever function they perform.

"Speak, Intruder. Identify yourself."

Your voice sounds odd to you, deeper than it should. Perhaps your metal frame, and its limitations, are changing it. Regardless, you can communicate. The man struggles for air to speak, and you loosen your grip enough to allow him his words. He takes a few minutes to suck in lungfuls of air before replying.

"S-Sergeant Jasaon Ratchas, of the Confederate States..."

Confederate States? You dip through your Host's memories and come up with little, other than an image from what is apparently a textbook. Upon spotting it, however, a flash of memory strikes you.

An older man, hands fiddling with an odd piece of machinery dismantled onto a workbench before him. He glances up, seemingly noticing your presence before offering a broad grin.

Just as soon as it comes it is gone, but you know who that is. The one the mortals eventually called the Deus Machina. Machine God. If he had a name before, you cannot recall it. Still, this symbol seems linked to him somehow. A thought to consider.

"Your purpose here?"

"We... we were... we were told to end anyone who'd survived, and loot the rest of this place of anything of use. I swear, we weren't the ones to attack you."

"Then who is?"

"Uh... most of the Confederate brass thinks it was the Theocracy of the Divine. It's still uncertain, but the United Tribes aren't liable to do anything like this. Look, please, just let me go. I swear I'll never do anything like this again, I-"

His words are tuned out as you once again search the memories of your Host. These two other names mentioned, they spark no fresh images or old memories. Basic knowledge of their existence, but little else. The man you hold in your grasp is seeming to lose his worth quickly. He has only guess for you, but even if his guesses prove correct, he is still guilty of harming your people. His death would be justified by the Covenant.

Do our people have the resources to capture prisoners for hostage negotiation? A nation's people are its assets, and maintaining a number of them on-site also might help safeguard against the use of indiscriminate, strategic-scale weaponry.

"Indeed. You never will."
Now smash his face into the floor.

Squish his head like a grape.

>he is still guilty of harming your people
What people? They tried ineffectually to harm you, and failed. Is there evidence of other persons who were harmed before your activation? Is there specific evidence of his guilt?

>what do
...I could make an argument for sparing him, but leaving someone behind to give an enemy actionable intelligence isn't smart. Nor is he really worth keeping as a prisoner.

make his demise swift. We have work to do.

Map The Host 2015/06/30(Tue)18:30 No. 652095 ID: 56b8fc
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Dis Thread: http://tgchan.org/kusaba/questdis/res/92539.html

You end the man's life swiftly, crushing his skull against the cement at your feet. While having a prisoner would have been useful, you currently have no easily utilizable way to contain the man. As you do so, the Covenant identifies the area as "safe", and you feel the dormant mind of your host awaken once again. Their first thoughts are filled with horror, awe and numb acceptance.

By the Phoenix, what have we done...?

You hesitate to respond across the link, instead delving into memories and extracting a map the Host had seen at some point before. The facility you were in was fairly small, a useful trait at this point allowing you much quicker access to freedom and potentially loyal citizens to the Phoenix Throne who could provide you with more information. Still, there is a marking on this map that details some sort of cache or storage section. Perhaps something of use could be salvaged. This would delay your primary goal, but it was a decision that needed to be made.

>Select a Destination on the Map. Hallways will never have anything of note within them unless stated otherwise.

Visit the cache: Even more than continued action outside, this facility and what it has within it was very likely a primary enemy objective judging by the conversation the grouping had before we killed them. Our forces need the materiel at least as much as we may benefit from whatever's there.

lets check out that cache

You might as well check the cache. You don't know what resources will be available outside, or if there are enemies waiting.

>By the Phoenix, what have we done...?
What is it you think you have done? You expressed surprise, before the combat protocols took precedence.

Grab that cold hard cache!

Now that our host is responsive again, proceed with lecture: >>651881

Also, what's the primary goal?

Weapons The Host 2015/07/01(Wed)17:54 No. 652355 ID: 9021cb
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You do not comment a moment, organizing your thoughts, before sending a stream to your Host. You will not have them consider themselves worthless and unnecessary. They are a person, regardless of their current state, they are free to think and feel as they desire, have goals and fears. You will not allow otherwise. Your Host feels somewhat surprised by this sudden rush of strong thoughts regarding the subject, and you sense an underlying feeling of joy, however they are quickly squashed under grim acceptance.

I... appreciate the sentiment, Ferryman, truly. However... my life is at an end, just by serving as your Host. I shall never leave my place here until the moment I die.

You feel a spark of fear as the word "Ferryman" drifts across the link. You feel confused by this, especially because they had called upon you to awaken and defend your people. You query the need for such fear, and what they consider themselves to have done that was so shocking and worthy of fright. The response you get is hesitant, tinged with equal parts fear and caution.

Great Spir- Er, Ferryman. I... you are not... well, we did not expect to wake the Lord of the Long Night from slumber. In truth, it is rather hard for me to not be... frightened. I suppose it is easier to accept as your mind shares my own, however others might not be so... accepting. It is... difficult to put into words... I... um...

You interrupt at this point, directing your frame to begin traveling to the location of this storage area, hoping to find something that could be of use. The short distance is traveled quickly, and you notice your Host has descended into an awkward silence, discomfort a clear feeling coming across the link. You ponder the matter only a moment before your attention is demanded by your arrival to your destination. This room is filled with boxes and containers, storing materials and tools of all kinds. It seems this truly was a place of storage. While perhaps useful in the long run, most of these containers remain useless to you in the present. Towards the back, however, you find a small assortment of more immediately useful objects.

Namely, weapons.

While only a small assortment, they could perhaps serve well enough. You quickly assess each and place them into a short list for review, ignoring those that are currently unusable due to one hand being taken up by your Talon:

Type M Carbine: Called such simply because magic fuels it instead of solid munitions. A single charge of magical energy gives the device 30 rounds, which can be augmented from simple bursts of magic with loadable "magazines" into the weapon housing. The weapon is compact enough to wield in one hand.

Tech-Glaive: Similar in design to the sword you now bare, the weapon is designed to be capable of various forms of augmentation, generally through application of other mechanical devices. While it is feasible for you to wield this weapon with one hand, utilizing its greater reach, it would be difficult for you to perform any particularly fancy movements.

Solid Slug Shotgun: This weapon utilizes solid munitions, currently buckshot, loaded into a magazine. While the magazine carries ten rounds, you are incapable of handling the extra magazines stored with the weapon, as your Talon lacks the fine control necessary for the function. Firing the weapon, however, is easily done with one hand.

You have only the one set of clamps, and may therefore only store one weapon upon your back, currently the Tech-Blade. You could easily replace it with one of these though, and just as easily simply carry the other in your hand.

Type M Carbine. If we are able to recharge it ourselves, it'll be a great weapon on stand by. While having a longer reaching weapon would be great, we do lack long range other than our missiles. And the shotgun only has 10 rounds and we don't have the other hand to wield the rest.

The carbine is probably the best thing to take with us. A ranged option is currently what we lack.

If we can't take the rest with us, we should block off or seal the room so the intruders can't claim the weapons. Don't destroy them, since we don't know the situation, and it's conceivable we might be back for them.

We have the sword, and apparently a fairly difficult to destroy body to work with here. I'd say that we should stick to the rapier for close encounters and pick up the carbine as the option with the longest effective range.

Vote for carbine. We'll figure out how much ammo that effectively carries soon, but it's likely worth more than 10 slugs.

Keep the tech blade on your back and pick up the carbine in your hand

lets keep our sword but that carbine should come in handy. pick it up in our hand

Carbine Aqcuired The Host 2015/07/02(Thu)03:16 No. 652538 ID: 9021cb
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You take up the Carbine in your right hand, testing the weight for a moment before nodding slightly in satisfaction. This will do nicely. You feel a sense of unease come across the the link, and you spare a moment to address the sudden feeling. Your Host seems to recognize your sudden attention, and you feel the unease increase in intensity.

I'm sorry, Lord of the Long Night. I didn't mean to distract.

You are insistent, wanting to know what caused their distress, and with some hesitation they respond, clearly uncertain.

I... I am not what one might call a military minded individual. Weapons... make me uneasy. It is nothing, in the end, Lord of the Long Night. You must fight, and that is something I must accept.

The near constant dismissal of their own feelings is beginning to grate upon your nerves, since you'd instructed them to treat themselves with more respect. Regardless, now is hardly the time to deal with this. The silence that has surrounded you since your defeat of the men is suddenly broken by a sharp crack of gunfire. It is muffled well, only barely perceivable even with your technologically enhanced perception, but it is distinct. If you had to guess, one of the other rooms within this compound has been occupied. This does not explain the gunfire, however...

You note absentmindedly that the sound seems to have registered with your Host as well, causing them to jump slightly as they perceived it themselves. Unease and fear return in equal measure, but you dismiss it for the time being, preparing to assume complete command of your body at the first hint of continued conflict.

When we have time to discuss it, we should make the point our systems were designed to include a living, conscious host for a reason. The design could have easily subsumed them or rendered them inert the whole time. Dialog is a design feature.

For now, ask your host if they know anything about the tactical situation outside. What did they observe before entering?

Might as well spend a point to load the carbine. An unloaded weapon does nothing, and the sooner we spent magic to do so, the sooner we will recharge that point (assuming we have a passive mana regen, at least).

Then move out.

>>652564
+1

Burst through the wall connecting to the room near your primary objective. OOH YEAAAAAH.

He's a noncombatant? That makes his reactions completely understandable. Although I have to wonder why they'd use a noncombatant to play host to a war mech.

This isn't the time, but is it possible to let our host have control of the mech?

... Ask again for a name. And tell him if he doesn't give us one, we'll call him Squishy.

Interruption The Host 2015/07/02(Thu)15:32 No. 652664 ID: 9021cb
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You send your desire for a name across the link once again. They may be your Host, but this it is important to you. You refuse to simply consider them a nameless being within your frame, and even add that if they continued to refuse cooperation, they would simply have to be known as Squishy forevermore. You feel hesitation and uncertainty, then the feeling of reluctant acceptance. It seems they are not willing to fight you on the matter, not when you are being so stubborn.

Jessie, Lord of the Long Night. I was named Jessie.

You accept the name without comment, storing it away for later reference even as you turn to regard the wall. The map indicates that the way out into the greater world lies in a room just across from here, but inspection reveals it to be fairly solid. You could perhaps hope to blow a hole in it, with some luck and heavy firepower, but it would take far longer than simply traveling to you destination the conventional way. Still, such tactics as bursting through the wall may serve you well at a later date, and you store it away for consideration. Instead, you turn yourself back the way you came, intent on moving on. As you do so, you query your host for memories and thoughts regarding the possible situation outside, or at least what they'd noticed before being placed within you.

I'm afraid I don't really know much. My service as your Host was rather hastily prepared. I know that we were-ARE losing, and badly. There were rumors of the Phoenix Throne itself falling to the enemy, although I can't speak for a situation as far as the capital. More immediately... the Magos that were killed in that room you awoke in... they were the senior members, I think, but there were others. Lower members... Acolytes, I think they were called? They might still be within the facility.

You digest this information silently, letting it simmer. While they are apparently not full Magos, these Acolytes might be able to serve a similar function in a pinch. If they have even a small amount of knowledge, it will help your own efforts. Still, as you make your way out into the corridor, heading towards the next room on the map, you briefly ponder allowing your Host full control of your body. While there is nothing within the Covenant that dictates that it cannot be so, it is somewhat unwise. The Host would have the entirety of your magical power at their disposal, and be incapable and untrained in their use.

Just as you reach the door to the next room, a sharp crack is heard again, and you hear the wail of someone, much more muffled, screaming. Another shout, and then another scream, although now without the report of a weapon. Someone is under threat. The Acolytes? You have little time to ponder. You smash your way through the door, flexing your Talon and bringing the Carbine to bear against the room.

A dozen men stand around the room, perhaps half with weapons in hand. One, who you assume to be a leader of some kind, is standing over a dead body, with another beside that one, while two more individuals, a man and a woman, are kept on their knees and guarded by others with weapons.

Executions.

You note enemy positions quickly, two guarding the prisoners, the leader, one at the door on the other side of the room, two more on either side of the door you'd just entered from. The rest are unarmed, weapons placed upon the ground or leaned against various boxes. All seem caught by surprise at seeing a large machine suddenly come barreling into their midst.

This war has obviously been declared and fought in a manner that denies the principle of 'human rights.' Determine organization of prisoners and force in the room, then eliminate the side that is 'enemy.' Sadly, the most straightforward way to make that determination is to wait for someone to attack us....

Order everyone to submit, those who resist get blammed.

So there we've got 2 acolytes left.

Ugly situation. Violence could lead to the hostages being harmed, but a negotiation is a non-option. The hostages cannot be used to control you.

Which means we need to hit hard and fast, get the enemy to focus on you.

Are any of our weapons particular precise? Be nice to take out the guards. Or what does entropic blast do?

Are we resistant to bullets? If so it might be viable to try and get between the door guards and the... wait, no, then if they miss us they hit the prisoners. Better plan (if we are bullet resistant): stand between the two door guards, try and get them to hit each other.
Priorities to take out are first the prisoner guards, then the leader. With any luck that'll be all we need to do.

Routed The Host 2015/07/03(Fri)17:56 No. 652898 ID: 9021cb
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Stand down, or face death.

You offer the group a single chance to surrender themselves. It comes as little surprise that they ignore your warning, all who are armed opening fire upon you while the rest dive for their weapons. The men seemed trained enough not to hit each other, so you decide a different route is in order, and rend one with your Talon. The Carbine in your other hand barks with its report, two rounds going into the guards standing watch over the captured Acolytes. You move quickly, whipping around to rip apart the next one, even as you pop another two men who haven't reached their weapons yet. The Leader is shouting orders, too indistinct among the gunfire to make out anything specific.

Six men down.

Their gunfire rings uselessly off you, and their leader quickly seems to understand this. You take out another of the enemy, just retrieving his weapon, before you notice the others falling back to the next room, the leader remains, trapped behind the box he's hiding behind, as well as the two Acolytes, bound pressed to the floor like their lives depend upon it. It likely had. You stride over to the box, keeping cover over the door the others had left though. Once close enough, you reach over, ignoring the chatter of gunfire that occurs in response to the action, and pin the leader to the ground, the only think saving his life the lack of your Talon closing around him completely. He shakes slightly, but seems to keep himself calm enough. Good. You have questions.

Describe your numbers, mission and home base or die.

>>652898
What is your purpose here, invader.

>ignoring gunfire
Uh, we might be bulletproof, but the acolytes aren't. It's not a good thing to allow the remaining enemy to fire with impunity. They could get a lucky ricochet.