Kobold King

EDIT: Ninja'd the first time around. Raoden 6 Vin 11 Wax 10 Kaladin 10 Shallan 10 Sarene 8 Vasher 10 Hoid 7 Nightblood 15 Galladon 10 Demoux 6 Leras 13 Rayse 8 Tanavast 7 Cultivation 10 Skai 8 (No problem Leftinch. I'm not the most knowledgeable person here by a long shot, but memorizing obscure pieces of trivia is sort of my thing. )

Lightwards prided himself on the efficiency of his Warriors of Light. The small Regway family had quickly slaughtered their immediate neighbors, an elderly couple with what seemed to be a thirty year-old grandson in the house. They'd seemed surprised when the Regways broke down their front door and started shooting. Tartarus had quickly moved into position, dragging the younger man towards the assigned place. Suddenly, the dog dropped to its side as a gunshot rang through the air. Snarling, Lightwards swiveled some kind of anti-aircraft gun towards the building he'd observed the gunshot from. A simple pulling of a trigger unleashed a hail of bullets at Nighthound's current location, every fifth shot followed by a pink tracer. The storm of lead ripped through windows and walls of the building's second story before he saw the Epic leaping out the building's window. He was about to start launching his remaining party rockets when Funtimes' convertible pulled up alongside him, rolling down its window to the sound of fading saxophone music. A face specked with grains of loose glitter stuck out out of the car and grinned at him. "You were all bleedy back there. I'll give you a blood transfusion if we can borrow one of your zombies!" The Traveler laughed along with his girlfriend. "Pretty please? We need a controller for the backseat consoles." Lightwards quickly weighed his options as the two continued their moronic banter. Before she'd brought it up, he'd forgotten just how light-headed he'd gotten. He felt thoroughly exhausted, as if he might pass out at any moment. That would be a very bad idea. "Take that one," he gestured, waving towards the female member of the Regway household. "Her name's Alice. Alice, do what they say." He closed his eyes in a grimace, telling himself that if Funtimes were interested in turning the blood in his veins into ketchup, she'd probably have done so by now.

Raoden 8 Vin 11 Wax 10 Kaladin 9 Shallan 10 Shai 4 Sarene 8 Vasher 10 Hoid 7 Nightblood 14 Galladon 10 Demoux 6 Leras 11 Rayse 8 Tanavast 9 Cultivation 10 Skai 9 Aona 10 Endowment 10

I don't want to be enjoying myself right now, but I'm not sure I can help it, thought Lightwards with a mixture of delight and concern. Sure enough, Funtimes' convertible was displaying an even more reckless disregard for the laws of physics than his own tank. Her vehicle almost seemed to be flying over the dark and smoky battlefield as she darted around, pursued by one of Nighthound's minions. Lightwards ignored their struggle. He couldn't rely on the insane Doctor for the entire fight. He'd need more opportunities to use his own power. After all, he was only safe when he was in full control. His vulture settled by his tank's window, staring at him with its blank, servile expression. Lightwards scratched it on its bald blood-red head. "I've got a job for you." He selected a decent-sized house from the street and reversed into it. ---- Simon Regway winced as he heard a crashing sound from upstairs. They heard a crash from the neighbor's house, and immediately the family had relocated into the basement. Epics were like natural disasters, and most families in Portland treated them just as they would earthquakes or tornadoes. His wife and brother-in-law sat beside him in the damp underground vault, both with grim and sweat-flecked faces. "I hope the Sadrys are fine," Alice Regway muttered. "They're so nice." She was an optimist at heart. Always had been, historically speaking. Simon hated seeing her like this. The post-Calamity world made worrywarts out of everyone. "I'm sure they're fine," her brother Fanklin assured her. "Epics move through a neighborhood, tumble about for a little while, and then usually they're gone again. They usually leave us regular folk out of it." Simon privately disagreed, but it would be impolitic to say so at the moment. Instead he held hands with his wife and listened. Crash. The trio jumped at the sound of a massive crash, as if one of their walls had suddenly collapsed. With dry lips, Simon walked to the door and tried to hear outside. Their dog Miffy was issuing her loud Rottweiler bark, the one she reserved for intruders. It had been a while since she'd used it on anything other than a rabbit. There was a scuffling sound from upstairs, causing Miffy to yelp. There was a loud squawk, as if some sort of bird was fighting. Footsteps. Then silence. "Are they gone?" Franklin asked, concerned. "Yeah," breathed Simon Regway. "I think Miffy fought something off. Good for her." He felt guilty about leaving the dog upstairs, but they'd been in a hurry to get into the basement. Suddenly, they heard a whining by the door. "Miffy?" Alice asked, puzzled. There was a bark from the other side. Miffy's friendly bark. Simon thought it sounded a little less passionate than usual--a flat yet friendly woof. But he attributed it to his dog being hurt and tired. "I'm going to open the door and let her in," he informed the household. They all nodded. Miffy was a much-loved member of the household. Simon Regway turned the doorknob, opening the basement door and seeing Miffy standing before them, flecked with feathers and spots of blood. Her eyes stared at him vacantly, her body posed in an attack position. "What the Calamity?" Simon cursed. He started to slam the door shut, seeing a dust-coated man with glasses and an intellectual's coat standing down the hall behind Miffy. Too late. The Rottweiler slammed into him, sinking her teeth into his throat as he gave out a pained and confused shriek. His last conscious thought was that the family pet had darted into the basement and by the sound of the growls and screams, was now ripping them apart. ---- Lightwards raised the three adults, two men and one woman. He raised his vulture again, which had suffered another death while supplying him with his newest Warrior of Light, a finely built Rottweiler. A particularly sturdy and ferocious Warrior of Light, it was. He decided to name it Tartarus. "New plan, my Warriors," he said cheerfully, observing his newly resurrected recruits. "I am returning to my combat vehicle. Take that rifle over there--the one Tartarus tore out of your hands--and any other firearms you have here, and march into the house next door. I want you to kill every normal human on this street, and Tartarus will drag their bodies into the living room upstairs for easy access." The three Warriors gave slow nods, showing that they understood their instructions. Lightwards gave them a beaming smile and salute, then returned to his pink vehicle. Settling himself in the operator's seat, he set the vulture in the seat beside him and did a quick survey of the chaotic street in front of him.

Likely screaming "We told you so" at the top of their lungs. The suburb we're currently demolishing fighting in: does it lie within the territory of another Epic? Will we get in trouble for said demolishing fighting?

Raoden 8 Vin 11 Wax 10 Kaladin 9 Shallan 10 Shai 8 Sarene 8 Vasher 10 Hoid 8 Nightblood 13 Galladon 10 Demoux 6 Leras 10 Rayse 8 Tanavast 9 Cultivation 10 Dominion 9 Devotion 10 Endowment 10 Bavadin 8

General question unrelated to the insanity above, can it be assumed that general services are still available somehow throughout the city? Electricity, running water, etc?

It occurs to me that I'll probably need new Warriors of Light, as Donald and the Sadrys were dismembered, carmelized, and then buried in rubble. Ah well. There are other houses in the neighborhood...

I don't mind. I wonder what people will think when they investigate the area the next day and find a suburb block thoroughly decimated, finding the fallen trunk of an oak tree that hadn't been there before, hundreds of gallons of maple syrup, and piles of rubble and confetti at Ground Zero.

We got bored. Don't judge us. There are public weaknesses? I was unaware.

Nighthound, disappointingly enough, was not instantly killed by the flow of burning syrup. The Epic managed to break away from the flow at a critical moment, only his leg touching the impossible stream. He bounded across the midnight street and hid himself behind a ruined wall. So the hunter becomes the hunted, Lightwards chuckled to himself. I am the apex predator. Not far from Nighthound's hiding place, Funtimes had transformed a pile of living room wreckage into a sleek white convertible with a feline motif. It was best to assume that despite its relatively innocent appearance, the convertible was probably even more heavily-armed than this candied monstrosity. Lightwards familiarized himself with the vehicle's controls as wild, probably delirious thoughts flew through his head. How could she possibly create this? An engineer given years and millions of dollars might never figure out how to create the bizarre weapons and systems installed in this thing. Was Doctor Funtimes a hidden technological genius? But then, he didn't need any knowledge of surgery in order to raise the dead. He chalked it all up to Calamity's grace as he pushed yet another large red button. One of the vehicle's countless cannons launched a small missile towards Nighthound's hiding place. The missile, as Lightwards had expected, was decorated with rainbow-colored stripes and released a trail of confetti as it zoomed into its target. It whooshed over Funtimes' convertible, dusting her windshield with confetti like the world's strangest snow. Despite its party theme, the missile had a very real effect. The wall Nighthound cowered behind disintegrated in a bright explosion with a slightly pinkish tinge, scattering even more debris far and wide. Lightwards cheerfully launched several more party rockets in the general vicinity, trusting Funtimes to have the sense to get herself out of the way. The destruction of the house, started by his ill-advised table trick, was now fairly well complete. The house's fragments were flung in all directions, burning with unnaturally bright-colored flames as a cloud of dust and confetti settled over the street. Lightwards noticed with a cringe that several party rockets had missed their target completely, sailing over the ruined house and flying deeper into the city of Portland. He wondered idly what normal humans and rival Epics would think of the strange creations bombarding random houses. Setting the truck into reverse, Lightwards moved himself to the other end of the street and searched for his allies and foe, assisting himself with the use of a few very garishly colored spotlights that the vehicle unashamedly sported.

The Frightful Union of Nefarious Terrors In Murderously Epic Schemes? It could work. As long as nobody notices what happens when you make it an acronym.

Team Terrible? The Gummy Bear Gang? The Bash 'Em Up Brigade?

^ My face every time I try to upvote something and run into my quota for the day. ^ But I couldn't agree more with the sentiment! Lightwards is driving his new Candied Crushery every hour of every day from now on. By the way, what's their little group called? The Ludicrous Duo + Lightwards + Nighthound?

Most people would probably run away, though I would suggest the name "Candied Crusheries".

I'm picturing massive convoys of Funtimes-created armored vehicles tearing down Portland and conquering the whole of Oregon.

My favorite part about the Herd is how its principle traits can be applied to any other group. For instance, the Lords of Chaos can very easily be ponified--

If you look at this page, the last four posters all have pony avatars.

Raoden 8 Vin 11 Wax 10 Kaladin 11 Shallan 10 Shai 8 Sarene 10 Vasher 10 Hoid 10 Nightblood 11 Galladon 10 Demoux 6 Ati 3 Leras 11 Rayse 10 Tanavast 9 Cultivation 10 Dominion 9 Devotion 10 Endowment 12 Bavadin 10 Endowment reigns.

I'd keep it if I were you. It's awesome. Welcome back! I'll be mercilessly annihilating you seeing you soon in Oregon!

Lightwards quickly went from surprised, to bemused, to angry, to alarmed, to horrified, to startled, to sitting in an enormous pink combat vehicle. Nighthound cut down each of his Warriors of Light, one by one with not the slightest trace of difficulty. Funtimes' inane weapons were nearly useless against him. Funtimes was a gibbering idiot who couldn't design proper weapons. Nighthound was a proper Epic. He was a fighter, a destroyer of weaklings. The fighter, destroyer of weaklings, started running towards him. Lightwards was surrounded by branches that he'd hoped would hide him. He reached for his pistol, only to realize that he'd dropped it in the house he'd then destroyed. Time for another death, and there was nothing he could do about it. Helplessness, and with it death, loomed over him again. Just as Nighthound drew near, he heard a high-pitched cry of fury coming from the general area of the house. "Lightwards! Run that dummy dummerton over!" shouted Doctor Funtimes at the top of her lungs. Idiot, Lightwards thought. What am I supposed to do, ride a tree over him... The dead oak branches wrapped over him, cradling him in a massive, metamorphosing shape. Brown bark became pink-painted steel. Green leaves became multi-colored gummy bears. Enormous guns erupted out of nowhere, creating a loud whooshing sound as their creation pushed air out of the way. Lightwards looked in a light-headed daze at the vehicle's controls. He wasn't sure how much of the light-headedness was shock, awe, or blood loss, but one thing was certain: he almost felt like kissing the imbecile right now. Gleefully, he flipped a switch that seemed to be marked with various columns of steam. Another switch seemed to be labeled with a maple tree, so he flipped it as quickly as he could. With both hands, he pulled a large red lever that moved in all directions, targeting the massive guns and locking them onto Nighthound's stunned face. This was very, very absurd. And very, very fun. He pressed a big friendly-looking button at the top of the lever, spewing what he estimated as several hundred gallons of boiling maple syrup over Nighthound and the street below.

Raoden 8 Vin 11 Wax 10 Kaladin 11 Shallan 10 Shai 7 Sarene 10 Vasher 10 Hoid 10 Nightblood 11 Galladon 10 Demoux 6 Ati 5 Leras 11 Rayse 10 Tanavast 9 Cultivation 10 Dominion 10 Devotion 10 Endowment 11 Bavadin 10