The Dark Sun General 2: Electric Boogaloo

>Strazka stepped back into the living room, “Corbeau, were there any children found amongst the causalities?”

>The apothecary looked up from her work, “What? No, of course not.”

>“Look at this.” Strazka handed the photo to his cohort.

> Corbeau studied the picture a long while before speaking, “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

>“Me too. I found that inside this book I can’t make heads or tails of, along with some æthereal relic. Both of which are giving off such a strong aura I could hardly touch them. I need you and your team to figure out what those damn things are as soon as you can.”

>Corbeau nodded in agreement while fingering through the tome, “Fine, I’ll take both items back to apothecaries’ foyer and see what my colleagues can make of them. And you, Boris, I suppose this means now you’ll be having an audience with The Architect?”

>“Not quite yet.” It was hard to read the emotions of a woman in a mask, but if Strazka had to guess, he’d imagine Corbeau was surprised. “I’m going to look into this kid a little more. Interrogate Zyguir’s friends.
Ask around the brood-villages and gutter shops. And the sewers. Definitely the sewers. This whole thing is legitimately unnerving me, but I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves.”

>“Don’t sit on this too long, Strazka. One more bombing like this and your head’s going to be on the chopping block. As thick as you are, I’d hate to see you skinned in the city square for withholding information from the Dark Lord.”

>Strazka laughed, “See, I knew you were worried about me.” He strode back into the hallway towards the elevator, trying to ignore how prophetic Corbeau’s words felt.

>With the stories, rumors, and myths about rebels, people assume them to be strong, hopeful, and full of potential. Perhaps, with their adventures gathering allies and the Eight Gifts, they would be more suited to fighting than anyone else.
>The Rebels, however, are an allotment of ragtag groups that hardly agree with one another. They are less unified than a colony of ants in a flood. Each group has different morals, different ways they wish to go about things, and exist in different parameters.
>Their paths rarely cross, but one of the most contested and vocal, perhaps, are the Stitchers and the Musers.
>Necromancers by trade, some Nigromancers from the traveling Circus with their assorted hoodoo and hexes even join in to prove who's creations are more volatile, and deserving of praise; much like artists heckling one another at a gallery.
>The Stitchers, however, are as mad as they are secluded. Seeing the world as their stage, and any corpse scattered about the Wastes of the Black Sun as their canvas, they take whatever they can, perusing parts with criticism and a goal in mind, whether it be for power, agility, alacrity or ability.
>Skaabs are awful, potent creatures. With manufactured, limitless strength, the inability to be turned by the Plague Mages of the Dark Lords, they are a powerful weapon that can hardly be controlled more than being given a function and being pointed in a direction like dogs.
>The Stitchers are well aware of this, and like the showmen that they are, they will release their creations unto the world through the cities of the Branded and the Lords, wreaking havoc before escaping through the sewers and improving these heaving masses of muscles, flesh and electricity.
>The Stitchers, however, are enemies of the Dark Lords, for they see them as taking away their audience, their parts, and stealing their ideas.
>Supposedly, they are in possession of a Gift...
(1/4?)

>The Stitchers, for some reason, despise the world that they live in. The chaos and discord spread throughout the world is unpleasant, distasteful. They see it as though a critic would a canvas of feces supposedly called "art".
>The twisted minds of the Stitchers were like this far before the Black Sun, but with the Black Sun's arrival, they have turned over a new leaf. With the crazed influence, their continued use of formaldehyde and leather aprons allow them to walk in the Black Sun without even beginning to hear the whispers, or hear the sizzling.
>When one finds a Stitcher perusing graves and battlefields for parts much like window shopping, one can see them gazing up at the Black Sun, muttering some curses and swears, wishing it gone. The Black Sun, some say, will look back down on them, burn intensely, and mutter a few wishes of its own.
>Oddly enough, the Stitchers are far beyond its influence, and see the living not only as potential parts, but an audience. They revere humans and clerics with a wide berth and consider them valuable, while the Branded to them are already dead, and are mere testing dummies for their skaab squadrons.
>With no society left to mock and oppose, these mad minds will stop at no cost to prove to the Dark Lords that they are far more powerful, and without touching any sort of magical influence or mechanical crutch. That their ability is one of wit, invention, inspiration and, oddly enough, one of passion and individualism.
>The empty, dark spires of the Gift they reside in strangely feels warm with their presence, a bright beacon through the shifting lands and wastes of the world, but invigorates, inspires and nourishes ideas that they have, amplifying their eagerness.
>The Architect's Gift is the home of the Stitchers, and its dubious nature allows it to dodge the ever-glaring eyes of the Dark Lords, for it seems as though it is a mirage, Moving whenever it is not desired to be found.
(2/4)

>The Stitchers are few in number, but grand in bravado, much like the Musers. Many Branded consider them to be one in the same, but the Musers would deny this heavily with a horrifying, melodic tone.
>Both are groups of crazed, manic rebels with a penchant for the morbid, but the Musers are bards of a past world gone mad, waking the dead with their twisted tunes, and shrieking violins.
>Preferring string to carry notes through the winding paths of the Wastes, these skeletal musicians are considered to be already dead by some, and gather literal bands and orchestras of skeletons and corpses that have the finesse to join their roaming menageries.
>Necrodancers to some, Undead Bards to others, the Musers believe that music is enough to send this world into a passionate revolt. Much less secluded than the Stitchers, they wish to return to a world that was filled with the music and the sounds of the living, so that the many a lich in this group can finally rest.
>The Musers are disappointed in the Dark Lords, more than angry, they see them as wasting their potential, wishing to control and gather rather than create, and believe that the Lords are very capable of mistakes, for when they first came into power, the Lords were uncertain as what to do.
>The Musers were once Bards and Liches of the past that existed far before the Black Sun's arrival, and are rather full of information, sought out by even the Mourners, but these musicians have very little patience for those that exist without rhythm, and only speak in songs and rhyme-woven riddles.
>While they have far greater numbers insofar as their armies, compared to the stitchers, their roaming bands work with much more cooperation than their more scientific counterparts, giving far more control interlinked in a mental network by the Muser playing their song.
>The Musers have much more tricks up their sleeves, as well, but have an absolute disgust for the Branded and the Rebels of society.
(3/4)

>The Musers' songs are much more potent than for merely raising the dead, as they are quite skilled in curses, hexes, and voodoo. Some of their melodies curse or plague those who hear it, set some to sleep, spread disease, and one terrifying, crashing song known only as the Wanderer's Wrath supposedly causes all those listening to be influenced by a Muser's voodoo doll - all at once.
>Their bands, however, are far less equipped and sturdy than the skaabs, but are also strangely resistant to the whispers of the Black Sun and the Dark Lords, for all that fills their heads and ears are the Musers' musics and commands.
>The Musers who still have skin and have not given up their lives, however, are not immune to the Sun, of course, but their instruments are supposedly able to turn away the influence of the Black Sun's gaze, healing allies, removing disease or mutations, and preventing the whispers or the corrupted light from reaching their ears, so long as the music continues.
>Much less known than the Stitcher's home, the Musers are nomads, and their home is wherever the acoustics are good, and their music carries. What gives their music such power, however, is not purely from their own ability, but because their violins, cellos, trumpets, and clarinets all are laced with the Golden Gift of the Mountain King.
>The blood from the miners upon the last enchanted gold in the world infuses their instruments and their muses with the indomitable spirit of the first who saw this world, that they had hope for it to change in the future. The enchanted gold lets these notes carry far, and allows spells to be infused into their symphonies.
>While the Musers remain strange specimens that do, in fact, wreak havoc upon the Branded, much like the Stitchers, they adore a rebel or an Unbranded that has fighting spirit, and will give passage or protection to one who can either play an instrument or appreciate their passion.
(4/4)

Bumping this. Might write something later.

Just a quick bump while I wait for some responses. I'll write another one soon.

The Musers and the Black Sun Ballet often have what they would call "creative differences". Surviving bystanders of the two troupes' showdown give rave reviews.

Alright I got something here.
>The main room of the cathedral was Dark and oppressive, stone statues weeping blood and the screams of the damned lingering on the wind. The very stone walls of the Chapel seemed to hum and pulse with a twisted form of 'life' and the shadows writhed and laughed.
>A great congregation had been gathered here a meeting of sorts. All manner of Branded, whether they be mere noble of low stature or some high ranked member of their Lords own courts, they had gathered here.
>One particular figure, dressed in robes of sparkling gold and covered in sparkling jewels that seemed to tug at ones very soul, stepped up onto the the podium and began to address the gathered Branded.
>"Greetings my fellows, today we gather here to bask in the wonders of the Black Sun and the power of our Lords. Please feel free to enjoy yourselves this eve for this is a time of merriment and joy. Now before we begin I would like to-"
>The noble didn't have time to finish his statement before the doors to the Chapel flew open, and a figure strolled in.
>The figure was a woman, dressed in a dress that seemed to flow and shift around her frame, and was adorned in various markings that seemed to bear a resemblance tobscreaming human faces stretched over onto the dress itself.
>The woman took note of the congregation's startled looks, and began to walk towards them, a smile playing over her lips.

Bump.

>The remnants of the Dark Empire are possibly the most unified organization out of any single group of people under the reign of the Black Sun. Deep underground, they hid their trades, illegal drugs, magical supplements, technological advances, extreme weapons, smuggling, murder, assassination, you name it.
>An entire society beneath the soil, all crumbled with the arrival of the Black Sun and its whispers. Their tenacity, however, would become its reason for pushing and desiring victory more than anything. They would have their Empire back yet again, driven by pure anger and spite.
>The Dark Empire, now known as the Eclipse Syndicate, is an elite group of soldiers and masterminds that pull strings in the Architect's cities, developing technologies within the remnants of their old dynasty. While its reach and influence is not nearly as extensive as it once was, it is still powerful and fearful.
>A name unknown to all branded, the Eclipse Syndicate is the embodiment of envy and spite, working to overthrow the Dark Lords through their own namesake, and strange technologies used to disrupt magic and create an equalizer between the Lords, their mages, and the Syndicate.
>Being entirely unconcerned about the squabbles or distress from the Branded and Rebels of the world, they wish to show the Black Sun just what they mean by utter control, and wish to, quite literally, eclipse it with their power, and to use the moon's latent energies to overpower the Sun itself.
>They, of course, see themselves as saviors, and plan to distribute their discoveries across the globe, keeping the strong ones to themselves, so that they will solely puppet and control the known world in a form of demented hedonism.
>For the moment, however, they are a shattered shadow of what they once were, and are the source of mysterious contracts and bounties scattered throughout the Architect's cities in strange messages and runes that seem fairly innocuous without intense inspection.
(1/3)

>The Eclipse Syndicate is truly a web of shadows and information, as no big transfer or event can happen without their knowing these days, but no Branded ever realize who they are.
>The Bounties and Contracts, however, are distributed randomly, through messages and innocuous letters that seem innocent enough, but the truly determined, quiet, and sociopathic or focused of individuals will complete them discretely, and be compensated heavily despite this job.
>Occasionally, odd jobbers or bounty hunters will come across these, and associate them with some guild, or the Dark Lords themselves. Some rebels even get roped in, uncertain as to what they mean.
>While the jobs are more involving wetworking, assassination, information gathering, espionage, combat, and tracking, they are often taken within cities and populated areas. As such, some adventurers can get roped into things that they do not understand, and enforcers can often be found doing the same jobs, or trying to stop those with messages that were found.
>The Eclipse Syndicate themselves can also commit raids, as they have a group of elite commandos equipped with strange weapons made to stun, disperse, and erase their presence without issues.
>To employ odd weaponry that use light to stun, they have developed flashbangs through extensive chemical research, and have found that pure visible light is the best way to stun and even deteriorate the Branded, and the Mutated.
>Their research with magic has combined the old light magic of the past, and the current plagued dark magic of the Black Sun to create neutralization magic. When mixed, it renders the magic and arcane runes of some utterly useless, but has not been tested against the Dark Lords or their Supreme Magi. Supposedly, it might be able to slightly diminish their power, but it is uncertain.
>They are strong at taking out political opponents, and rendering people either useless, captured, erased, or even removing memories. Dangerous.
(2/3)

Bumping.

>Truly soldiers of the mind and of great importance, their numbers are weak, and their influence wanes in this day and age, when Rebels are scrounging for information, and the Dark Lords are throwing their weight about so easily.
>True antagonists of either side, they will happily use influences of either of their enemies, or potent persuasion to further their own goals, but have a true inability to act very far outside of the cities. They are powerless, out there. Truly an enemy of the people, and the people only.
>Many talented, sharp individuals from the Black Sun Ballet that showed a true affinity for the mind and psychological influence that the Ballet would implement would find themselves handsomely rewarded, if they were strong enough to understand the Bounties.
>These minds would be whispered away, and compensated because of it. Their true enemy, however, is the ever-scrutinizing Dark Hoarder. The Lord of the Mountain is a true scrutinizing opponent, making a strategic, if entertaining, enemy of the Syndicate.
>The battles and skirmishes, both small and big, within the technologically advanced ruins inside the planet create a sort of orderly battlefield, where the Lord and the Leader of their supposed Kingdom and Empire, accordingly, respectfully play a game of strategy and tactics.
>Because of this, they rarely employ outside of this region, and guard all secrets with their lives. With the underground life, they are extremely weak to the Black Sun's call, and the whispers feed into their insecurities, lust for power, and control very easily.
>The armor used by the commandos will make them relatively immune, through the use of the Moon's power, but their power sources are extremely finite. The resources and tech are available, but the Syndicate is plagued by a power crisis, as fuels do not work the same, physics is not as it once was, and there is no way to truly gain control of the elements. They are paralyzed. For now.
(3/3)

>Perhaps the most elusive of the gifts, some Branded tell stories, and have gone so far as to chase around myths and rumors surrounding the Vermin's gift of Thousand-Eyes.
>The enchanted pouch supposedly gives one a psychic link with thousands of insects, rodents, and arachnids, all to serve as eyes and psychic amplifiers, making any of those who were able to retain their psychic power from childhood into adulthood as mental powerhouses.
>With the Gifts, all are supposedly in the hands of some group. The Sword lies with the Thundermen, the Jug with the Curators, the Flower with the Apothecaries, the Spire with the Stitchers, the Gold with the Musers, the Globe with the Syndicate, and the Pup with the Immortal Hermit on his island.
>The Eyes, however, have no clear verdict on its location. All of the gifts are supposed legends and rumors, but with the other 7 gifts, they are supposedly to be held, and the tall tales all are rather similar, pointing to similar ends.
>None are certain where the Eyes, reside, however. Whenever someone asks about it, they are not disappeared, directed, or even threatened. There is no backlash, no secrets, no power threatening to remove them.
>On an unrelated note, however, with more and more rumors about the eyes being everywhere, in every which place, superstitions have been made, where rot farmers, construction workers, and gardeners have placed out scarecrows just in the surrounding area.
>These scarecrows are supposed to show the Eyes that people are on the lookout for it, and that they are not willing to give up their livelihoods by being watched so easily.
>In fact, it is rather strange that this tradition has popped up all around the Dark Lord's kingdoms simultaneously, with no real warning. It is a strange trend, but seems to be of no real harm, of course.
>The Scrappers of the Vermin Lord have always done this, themselves, and make a contest for straw golems.
>Odd, some say.
>The Scarecrows don't say much. They just watch back.

thread three did get archived though;

suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/54498490/

I had a lot more stories this week, but I wonder where everyone is this time! I am curious as to see what people think, and I am quite happy with the other submissions today. I love the detective story from earlier, and I was hoping there would be a lot more people today!

I'll probably write more today, and definitely more tomorrow, but I'm just hopeful to see more discussion today!

I enjoyed it, definitely a good read. I am probably going to try and write more stuff about the Queen tomorrow, but first sleep.

I liked the story however in it you said the Apothecaries has a gift which doesn't make sense considering they are Branded of the Architect.

The artifacts could change hands between different factions. I could see a lot of conspiring to steal the Gifts from each other (So the Flower, being the gift of the Gardener, some time ago ended up with the Apothecaries).

Bumping with a somewhat relevant image.