News: Welcome to Project RP! A collaborative writing project based here on this very forum.

Project RP
 

Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.
July 02, 2022, 02:30:29 AM

Login with username, password and session length
Pages: [1]
  Print  
Author Topic: ALLIES: Gambol-12, I  (Read 1143 times)
BEB0P
Global Moderator
Exhalted Member
*****

Karma: 10
Posts: 1068

Kiss your fist and touch the sky.


View Profile WWW
« on: October 16, 2016, 03:56:55 AM »

Gambol-12 lays on her stomach, staring down the leaf sight of an archaic anti-tank rifle. She hasn't move in three days, and it's evident by the snow that blankets her. It matches the grey tarp that covers the length of the rifle. The only signs of her presence on the hill's level outcropping are the weapon's muzzle and her glimmering golden eyes that, to an untrained eye, are easy to miss in the blizzard. No ordinary human could survive this weather. Gambol is an Exo; A war machine built in the image of Golden-Age humanity. She doesn't feel the cold, but she's aware of it. She doesn't get sick, nor does she need to sleep or eat, and a bullet wound is nothing more than a minor hindrance for her kind. A model soldier for a war she no longer remembers.

A Fallen stronghold sits a kilometre from her position. Once, it belonged to a Warlord of the Dark Age. After an intervention by the Iron Lord Gheleon, it remained vacant for centuries; A memorial to the sins of the past. It now belongs to Cellicks, The Brute. She is a Fallen Baroness, and more importantly, Gambol's target. She's been on Cellicks' trail ever since her crew sacked a village of thirty innocent people. Gambol returned to seven survivors, too late to do anything.

Gambol can't feel pain. She can only be aware of it.

And for the past few days, Gambol is aware of revenge.

It wasn't difficult to track Cellicks; With all things considered, Fallen leadership isn't particularly clandestine. Gambol has been watching the patrols that pace the stronghold's walls and stand vigilant at the gates. A Pike patrol comes and goes every four hours. Her eyes act as long-range scopes, allowing her to catch every detail.

On the fourth day, in the dead of the night, a decorated Skiff flies overhead, boasting slightly heavier armour and weaponry. On cue, Gambol's Ghost, Shroud, materializes next to her. "Cellicks is aboard that Skiff. She's returned."

Gambol glances at Shroud. Her head doesn't move. She doesn't need to say anything.

"On your mark."

The Exo waits another moment and watches the Skiff draw closer to the fortress and selects her first target; A fuel canister resting next to a Pike in closer proximity to the front gate. She takes in the loss of the village, and squeezes the trigger. The first round fired disturbs the blanket of snow disguising Gambol, revealing her matte black plating and ill-kept cloak. There's barely an echo before the pike explodes and disrupts all other sound in the valley. In that time, Gambol has already risen and slaloms down the hill. She cycles the bolt and takes another two shots on her way down, dispatching two guards on the wall. Once at the bottom, she summons her Sparrow and rockets toward the fortress.

It is time to avenge.
Logged


Pages: [1]
  Print  
 
Jump to:  

Powered by SMF 1.1.20 | SMF © 2013, Simple Machines
clean_cut_blue was created by babjusi