On top of a tower composed of muscle still surrounded in scaffolding, a koopa is busy trying to collect his senses on the floor. Out on the field that the tower overlooks is a machine busy tearing another koopa apart.
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'Maybe if I just lay here for a while, the hellacopter will get bored and leave.' Mottled Petrel desperately thought as he lay on top of the meat tower. From out on the field before him a distinctively loud set of gears ground to a screeching halt. Mottled Petrel got to his knees and peered over the edge of the battlement. The hellacopter, who was still attacking the new migrant Nokoopi, no longer had the distinctive shimmer around it that told onlookers that it was blisteringly hot.
Meekly, Mottled Petrel's eyes flicked down to the main gate as the fighters who had been waiting at the gate noticed it too. KoopaUnknown didn't notice it though, as he was still walking raggedly towards the hospital after days of one sided fighting.
Surprisingly, the effort wasn't necessary because the hellacopter finally began breaking down from the damage it had sustained during its rampage. Nokoopi still cowered below its metallic form as the hellacopter slowly ground to a halt. Whatever internal engine that was once regulating the hellacopters temperature went thermonuclear, reducing the hellacopter to a cloud of steam and a melting pile of metal.
When Nokoopi finally opened his eyes from behind his torn eyelids, all that was left of his assailant was a lopsided copper bar.
He picked it up with his last good arm to see that a twisted expression of rage was still poking out of the bar. Nokoopi threw it away in fear, before collapsing from pain to wait to be rescued. Unfortunately, the gaping hole in his right lung didn't bode well for his survival.
The hellacopter still in the air decided that he might try his luck elsewhere.
Mottled Petrel let out a sigh of relief and slumped down against the wall. His breather was cut short by a liquidy growl that resounded from the very earth itself. Mottled Petrel groaned, and then slumped to lay face down on the floor.
SQman walked up to the roof of the tower a few minutes later "I, uh, I drew the short straw sir. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?". Mottled Petrel looked up and rested his chin on the floor "You really need to work on your presentation, but I'll take the good news first." SQman held a small shell before him that he was previously holding behind his back "The armorsmiths think they have solved the upper arm problem". SQman pushed a button on the back of the shell, and 3 sets of pauldrons popped out of the shell, supposedly to protect the wearer's upper arms "We don't know if we can patch existing shells to have the same effect, but new shells should in theory be safe.".
'Well that's one fortress ending concern out of the way... wait...' "What's the bad news?" SQman put the small shell down and began fishing around in his shell for something else "A forgotten beast has come. There's vomit soaking through the little peep hole we left in one of the wall, and that vomit is mixed with some kind of white saliva. We think it looks a little something like this." SQman said as he presented a piece of paper.
Mottled Petrel let his face fall to the floor again "Don't worry sir, we have yet to take down the wall closing off the caverns, and the cavern traps are beginning to be installed.".
Mottled Petrel waved off the furnace operator "Thank you for the report, but unless there are any immediate problems I need a fucking nap, *yawn* I haven't slept in days. Too busy watching the fight...". Mottled Petrel fell asleep before he could finish his sentence, and SQman took his leave to go back to whatever he was doing before he drew the short straw.
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I'm not sure if it's related to the raw changes, but the hellacopter died all of a sudden a few minutes after unpausing with no new injuries.
Also, we've got a vomit blob...
huh...
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Topic: The Resurgence of Modded Hell (Back, Still Broken, Now With Giant Butterflies) (Read 301113 times)