The orange water of the Trucidos droon roiled an ancient gases escaped below the surface. Black, oily preservation fluid, eons old, spilled forth, released at last. The shimmering warscythe cut through the surface and the venerable Lord stood from his flooded stasis tomb.
>UNIT(0x816411c).assemble(04587672, 599345, 1500)
>[for a1 in UNIT(0x816411c).curloc().scan() do a1.id()]
OBJ(0x816411c) - NATIVE
OBJ(0xa147aba) - NONNATIVE
OBJ(0xbc4e850) - NATIVE
curloc = (0458325, 599112, 1472)
class = BIO
mass = LOW
threat_hueristic = TRUE
The entire shore of the droon was boiling as the oily, shimmering, metalic bodies rose from their ancient storage places. They stood motionless, then-- as though from some unseen signal-- they turned to the sheer cliff and drove their knifelike hands into the soil and began to climb.
>UNIT(0x816411c).tactics().objective(SECURE(0458325, 599112, 1472))
They crouched at the cliff edge of the droon until all their members had ascended the steep bank. Then, in unison, they began to seperate onto both sides of the ornate Lord, who held his Warscythe high and began to march...
A Warhammerin' We Shall Go
9 months ago