Tor works upon her armament, the internals were shot and needed much work, as she would test the first of the limbs, the fingers opening and closing, watching the pistons hiss as she worked through the motions. She needed to get it up and ready in case sis called for her, she needed her steam powered armor up and ready.
Seeing it functional, she would then go to her feet, the mechanisms that would support the entire structure would need to be in motion, step by steady step she would go into a walk with the machanism, the gears creaking, as she would march step after step.
She was proud of her work, but her mind would go back towards that day, reminded of the failure at hand she had been handed during the ordeal. Though deep down she knew it was a betrayal of those who had contracted her, their words still reminding her of the situation.
âLeave it, that one is expendable.â
She scowls her earthen features as she works, that day was like any other, the landing of the assault was to begin, as her and those hired would be underway. The ship would rock, and sway within the tides. As their voyage to Tanaan began. There was chatter, and much talk going on, but she zoned them out, as she would begin preperations.
The ship lurches, as suddenly the vessel would quaket, she glances up as those around her became up and mobile, frantic. Her optical sights would take in the situation.
The vessel was hit, aflame, seems the obscuring mist did not hide them to well, as the vessel lurched once more, the Construct up and moving. There were holes, the wall blasted. As she Glanced out, they were near the shore, may as well, she jumped into the churning waves. Sinking to the cold depth, once she got her footing, she began to walk, towards the shore, the situation was but another mission to achieve. The radio was noise and static, seemed the hired force was being shot up in the water.
She moved, and moved quickly, beneath the waves, her armor carrying her forward till she surfaced, the mist hid her approach as she glanced to the surface, spotting the cannon firing upon the transport and those within the waves, the various boats trying to carry them to shore.
She scowls, as she would bring her heavy rifle to bear, taking aim, she would fire, blasting several volleys to get itâs attention, but mainly to hit those within with explosive rounds. For a moment nothing happened, then the area lit up. Her armor receiving pings and blasting shrapnel as the orcs would lay heavy fire on her.
She waded through the volley, moving onto land where she would engage those coming out to attack, blasting one then the other. Counting her rounds in the chamber as she would get moving quickly.Â
The earth trembling beneath each heavy step as she vents in the morning chill. Switching to the massive two hand, runes aglow as she sheers through one then another. She was completing her task, the mission vital as she would be mobile. Bringing the weapon of the Forfather upon those who stood in her way.
Suddenly, one of the Tanks came around the bend, bearing down on her, slamming into the construct with bone rattling force as she was sent surging back, till she dug her boots into the soil, halting itâs course. Venting she shifts her bulk, push and lift till it was nearly over her, and would shove, flipping it to itâs side...but that was a distraction, as the second behind catches her with a Hell round. Sending the construct flipping, rolling sliding till she came to a halting stop.
She pushed herself up from the mud, caked in it, she vents, knowing her armor was compromised, she pulls several grenades, lobbing them into the barrels of the two. Watching them detonate the rounds as she was flung back. Staggering sheâd watch, as she moved onwards. Never halting as she advanced, one step after another. Till she staggered forward, as something big detonated the boiler system, she felt herself falter, stagger and pitch as her body would not function with her.
When she hit the ground, amidst the remains of the shore base and the remnants of the enemy vehicles did her team arrive. One of them stepping atop her as if she were nothing and would move onward.
âWhat aboot this one boss?â
âLeave it, itâs scrap, it did itâs job. Nothin fer us te waste time on, twas jus expendable.â
She listened, as the unit moved on. Those she had once fought many a mission beside moved on past her, without a second glance. She laid there till no noise was heard. No one would come back for her...she was a machine, to many, replaceable. Even with her unique design on a mission, she was not one to be saved. So there she laid, till the orcs returned days later, throwing everything into scrap wagons and would hall her to the side to toss into a pile to be either melted down, or forgotten...and thus for hours, days, months...she laid there within the remnants of where she was left. Listening, watching, but would then sleep. To save energy...till someone would find use for her...
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âHey, hey boss, look at this hunk oh junk, ya think we get sumthin from scrap like this?â
âNah not from anyone, but looks old, relic even, maybe the elves? see there, elven, there's some sort of...huh, well we drop it off, maybe good pay. Might be one oh their experimental.â
She stirred hearing the speech of goblin, as she was shifted, and hauled out of the confines of her tomb. The armor was barely manageable as she was stood up. Then crated, to be hauled off back across the sea. Towards the portals, where she was to be shipped. But when they landed, and no one was around, she forced the armor to move...How long had she been gone? She could hardly get the machine to move as she would head back...back to a mortal that called her sister...back to the hospice...maybe, she needed to return to family...She did not know why she had this urge, why she wanted to see sister Azuriann...but she would, she would go home, and maybe find peace of mind...
