Community > The Cantina
Burning Skies Saloon
Yiski:
--Saloon--
Althea and Yiski sat inside the saloon with roughly ten other defenders inside as well. They were to keep an eye on Yiski and prevent him from taking any unnecessary risks. Yiski sat at the bar with the radio on top the counter and sifting through all the reports throughout the city and fleet.
Yiski
"How are the batteries holding up?"
Frank
"Some of the damn squids knocked out a few batteries, but we've taken down about five. Fleet took another five. One or two transports are down."
Yiski
"Why so few?"
Frank
"Can't expect veteran marksman to use a gun they've never fired on the ground."
Yiski
"Understood. Just keep the lumberjacks on the transports."
Yiski fiddled with the dial to the Kyllo's frequency.
Yiski
"How are things?"
Lauren
"Better once we bring down the remaining squids. WHERE THE HELL IS MY GAT FIRE! Sorry, I got about two... make that one squid on me."
Yiski banged his fist into the counter. This made a defender or two jump. Yiski then picked up his new Blood Bolt. By the time Yiski got up, Althea and the other defenders were around him.
Defender
"Commander, you have orders to..."
Yiski brought around Blood Bolt assault mode and aimed it right at the defender who spoke. The other defenders brought their weapons on Yiski which then in turned caused Althea to turn her weapons on them. Yiski chuckled at the standoff.
Yiski
"So this is what the Council had planned, huh? 'Bout time their paranoia got to them."
Althea
"Commander?"
Ignoring Althea, Yiski continues talking.
Yiski
"There are what ten of you versus two of us. However, I have a full auto rifle and she's an Elite. Do you really want to try?"
Defender
"But our orders..."
Yiski
"If you want to live, you'll ignore whatever orders the Council gave you."
Hearing stories of Yiski's merits and abilities and knowing what and Elite can do, the Defenders lowered their weapons and stood at attention.
Defender
"Orders Commander?"
Yiski
"Get me to the nearest lumberjack battery."
With that, ten Defenders, an Elite, and a Commander were off to the Eastern Wall.
N-Sunderland:
Sunderland had been working for hours nonstop on the Duck Pharaoh. He had spare time, and he knew that maximizing the ship's efficiency would be key to defeating the Baronies. He began working at reducing its weight, making it faster and nimbler. He replaced the engines with stronger, more durable ones to increase speed and resistance to moonshine.
By the time he was done, it was as quick and manoeuvrable as a Goldfish, and it hadn't lost any hull strength.
Still, Sunderland was unsatisfied. He could have all the turning in the world, but it wouldn't make his guns any stronger. Not only that, but it was far too subtle for his taste.
So he attached a huge iron spike to the front.
The ship had lost all of the extra turning speed it had gained and half of the extra top speed and acceleration. But as Sunderland replaced his front flak with a second gatling and equipped himself with moonshine, he couldn't help but feel satisfied.
Sunderland cranked the accelerator up, lifted into the sky, got his gunners into position, and awaited orders to enter battle.
Gryphos:
--Eastern wall--
The sound of gatling fire rung in Nidhogg's ears as he took cover just in time behind one of the wall's crenelations. As the squid passed right by the wall it killed two less fortunate soldiers, who fell at Nidhogg's feet. Nidhogg was pinned behind to the wall as the squid continued to fire it's gatling. The steady rattle of the gun continued for what seemed like an hour, until a loud BANG was heard, along with an explosion that passed over Nidhogg's head. He peered out from cover to see the wreckage of the squid fall below the wall as an allied goldfish soared over head.
Praise the skies
But his hope was diminished as he pulled out his spyglass and examined the Baronies' fleet, only to see a still approaching mass of ships of all kinds along with enough troop transport to carry an army, though still taking a lot of fire, was in no way surrendering any time soon, and growing closer by the minute.
This won't end remotely well
Captain Lockheart:
Lockheart saw the ships move into action and swung his broadsides round. He also aimed the top deck hwacha towards the fleet. Silence.
Lockheart
"FIRE!!!!"
The ships Flaks, Mercuries and Hwachas fired at the fleet, the shots almost deafened Lockheart. He then walked to the radio, while his ship rocked therefrom guns shooting.
Lockheart to The Pointy End
"Your doing good evading those shots, we will try to provide cover fire. Lockheart out."
Lockheart Jumped down to the main deck and picked up his sniper, and aimed down the scope at the captain of a goldfish by the galleon. He held his breath and shot.
It hit, and the captain fell off the ship.
Lockheart
"Got one!. Now its your turn men! ha haa"
"Gods have mercy on us all"
N-Sunderland:
Sunderland
"I've had it with waiting back. I'm charging."
Sunderland cranked the throttle into maximum, began burning moonshine, and passed over the wall of Anvala. He saw a group of five Pyramidions approaching in a v-formation. He charged ahead at full speed, going straight into their gatling fire. He hit chute vent, ducked down below them, swooped up, and spun around with kerosene.
The Pyramidions ignored him and continued towards the city. Mistake number one. Their were flying in a V. Mistake number two.
Sunderland cranked his engines up again, and got at an angle relative to the Pyramidions. He kerosened to accelerate and position, then switched to moonshine.
The iron spike sliced through the first Pyramidion, heavily damaged the second one, and sent it into the third one, obliterating all three. The other two Pyramidions turned on Sunderland, but he was already on the hull armour, and wouldn't let them make a scratch. Unscathed, he returned into the city walls, with the two Pyras backing away to reform.
He stopped to listen to his radio, realizing that everybody had been shouting at him for a "completely suicidal charge".
Sunderland
"Three Pyramidions down"
Everybody else fell silent in disbelief.
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