Beach Assault (3)
From the grey walls on either side of each passenger, as well as below those that sat in the central row, ejected every manner of menacing blade, mace, gun and bladed staff. Each decorated in their own right, many by specific cultural quirks of their origin. Baldris took up his phoenix guarded longsword, looking over to Odenka to examine her weapons of choice. Gripping a slightly angled stone maul into her right hand, the Tauren's eyes opened with a glint of fury deep within, still suppressed by a relatively approachable exterior natural to her typically peaceful race. Her left hand dove into the straps of a rather large punch shield, at one point it might have bore the insignias of the Horde races, a scarlet, proud calling card of any aspiring champion. The colors have long since been worn, now taking on a metallic mesh of rust-brown with the occasional speck of white paint trying to sneak out in between.
She returned the glance, knowing the Blood Elf's rising anticipation and sharing it despite years of experience. This was it. This is where the bloodshed begins. She rose in the very front row on the right side of the ship, brows furrowing – this is where she wins! The down-sloped front of the ship ejected steam, depressurizing and being pushed out to the front with around 3 meters to maneuver. Its enormous steel plating encountered gunfire right away, but did not bulk an inch, its plates then extended to the sides with 4 on each, and the internal mechanics growled and fumed. A natural wall formed for the crew to exit in temporary safety, pushing and dividing cumbersome sand in the process. "Go go, disperse!" The leading Shaman called and the 30 ran out to make use of the new room created by a barrier. Odenka took a central position before the giant wall, slamming her shield into a specific central socket left on her side. Even now, her ears harangued with the drumbeat of a bullet rain chewing at the steel on the other side.
"Enchant!" she called, signaling her preparedness to a nearby mage. The Undead pressed both hands into the wall and it was detached from the rest of the ship's mechanical handling. It then began to glisten, a chorus of magic into which 4 of the designated priests joined, raising their hands towards the sky. Creating a temporary barrier of Light, they gave the mage time to convert the natural energy of the steel into mana by means of draining its existing enchantments. These were specifically designed to do nothing more than give additional mana when removed, aiding the spellcaster and destroying the material in the process to give soldiers view of the coming battlefield. The mana was redirected into Odenka's shield, creating a golden glowing barrier with a crimson tint, which the priests immediately began empowering.
For but a brief second, Odenka could see her comrades in the other platoons in the distant sides, their shields either preparing or already set and awaiting the co-joined move. Orash's first was to the left, and give or take 98 other ships stretching into the distance on her right. "Second platoon, advance!" the leading sergeant cried out and the packs sprung into action as others have done the same. Marching up the sandy beach, she immediately felt her hand ache as the machine gun fire increased in quantity. She saw the bullets strike and ripple, dropping lifelessly to the ground as the crimson bulwark attained endless repair from the priests behind. Her shield arm began to quiver – not due to fear, but the sheer amount of kinetic force distorting its hold. Most of the shieldbearers had this issue along the coast, even if most of them were designated for either great magical inclination or sheer physical force. Her forte was the latter.
Leading the way on her rise ahead, she made great care not to slip on the initial sandy slopes – it wouldn't seem like such a big deal if one mishap could kill her entire platoon. Squinting as the first rays of the Sun's light pierced smog and rising smoky sand, Odenka saw a fiery hellscape. The land was uneven, crawling with ironbound soldiers and their cries of anguish. The artillery had certainly done a number on them, and only halted now to avoid friendly fire. Through the disarray, desperate officers tried to coordinate the Kor'kron elite into formations at the coming vanguard. Their few nests were still working their best to keep the Third at bay, only serving to slow their advance to buy precious seconds for recuperating organization.
Her sergeant howled out, "This is it, prepare the scroll--!" his command was cut short however as the shield tore a heavy ripple with a glowing tracker line coming right through. Yelping, the great Tauren was stopped dead in his tracks, tipping backwards and falling over with a look of horror as the last reflex frozen upon his face. Odenka stopped with the disaster setting into the hearts of her comrades and yelled out as immediate as she could, "Armor piercing-- reinforce the shield!!" Kneeling, she steadied the defenses, allowing the priests to focus harder. Another tracer round sent harsh waves across its red sea, but this time withheld. Stonehoof's eyes widened, along with those of Baldris behind her, as they saw the sniper round stuck in the shield, dropping just millimeters short of piercing her head in the same fashion as their commanding officer.
An Orcish Shaman ran over to the dead and glanced to Odenka with grit teeth. "He's gone. I can resurrect him with some time, but we need to move now." The pack exchanged looks and Stonehoof grit her teeth, giving Baldris a brief glance. The kid was shivering and meeting her grim eyes gave little comfort for the road ahead. "...I will take command of this attack! Barrok, resume resurrecting him." The Shaman nodded and began singing and chanting to the spirits, attempting to retrieve the round and maintain his spirit within the living world. She lifted the barrier, bringing her frightening hammer close to the side in preparation and called out the new, old command. "All on me, activate the scroll of speed!" They were falling behind the other platoons because of the loss, leaving gaps in the line, making every second precious. Their mage rose a crumpled piece of paper, whispering a chant to him self, causing the runic letters to begin glowing. Odenka then glanced behind her to a nearby druid. "And scroll of the beast!" The latter nodded and rose a slightly neater looking paper scroll, chanting something and then roaring out a savage call of inspiration.
With both cantrips prepared, Odenka glared forth, opened her eyes wide and roared a hoarse instruction: "Bloodlust! Sons of war, CHARGE WITH ME!" And to a Shaman's searing song, the platoon saw red dead ahead. Their feet sprang forth, raising sand in their wake and were unperturbed in the rising adrenal rush. With the empowerments they'd received, the range of their charge was far greater than before and they'd managed to catch up with the other parties in great haste, reforming the line without issue. Like a tidal wave of blood, they came over the hill to witness the iron shores on the other side, preparing to face them. Their lack of sleep had them on edge, causing heavy armor to be more of a detriment.
Odenka saw this ragtag up close with each step, time slowing down in the haze of their Shaman's menacing chant. She saw the frightened eyes of her enemy behind their spiked tin cans, she heard their heart beats increase, and felt their final breaths in her mind. Augmenting the grip of her rune emblazoned warhammer, she cried out. "Release the shield, we'll break their line!" And so it was, allowing the Tauren to finally lower the arm into a more proper, self-defensive guard. Now was the time... The throes of bloodlust consuming her mind, a battle trance slowly starting to take the hearts of her comrades, she let out a savage cry and slammed away a rising enemy spear, following suit with the rotating grim reaper's scythe of a mallet that collapsed the Kor'kron's helm -- and everything it hoped to protect.
"FOR THE HORDE!"