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The Devil's Due: The Mongolian Horde

oscar

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Major_Blackhart

Codexia Lord Sodom
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Jersey for now
Yeah well, I have a shit ton of work to do, haven't been getting out of the office before six, just got back from my brother's bachelor party, and until recently ran into writer's block, so fuck off and enjoy everyone!

Sukhbataar stole glances at the other Zuuts as he stared down that rabbit hole. He had lost forty three men in the climb up the mountainside, and the total losses were close to seventy. He did not think on past decisisons, but would certainly remember that, in the future, such a method of attack could be costly indeed. He was tired, deathly so, realizing that after all that excitement, he could barely hold his eyes steady. Still, he wanted to push on. He needed it, the action, the blood, the death, the violence. He needed to feel the jarring kick of his shotgun against his shouldeR, the heft of his bloody battle axe as he swung it, the feel of it biting into the flesh of another. He would not let sleep take him! Not now, in the middle of an important decision, in the midst of his glory!
Sukhbataar flew into a rage, cursing with fury, spitting venom, working himself up into a good old fashioned murderous mood. He felt his heart pump, the blood rush through his veins, and he stopped after a few moments, hoping to only excite himself, not tire himself out. The other Zuuts looked upon him with a combination of uncertainty and fear, especially Batbayar. As a cold breeze brushed over the mountain top, suddenly all fell still, and Sukhbataar gave forth a cruel rictus grin, wide and terrible to behold upon his scarred face.
"In the fight to take this little mountain, Batbayar, you lost how many men?" The Zuut's eyes focused upon his equal slowly, that grin still wide.
"Six men, Sukhbataar," Batbayar said, almost proudly. Sukhbataar knew that they had been bringing up the rear and had seen less action than his own Zuut, an unfortunate turn of events but absolutely necessary to ensure the safety of the big guns.
"Excellent! Then they are well rested, yes? I would hope so!" Sukhbataar beamed proudly, happily. "You see, I have come to the conclusion of a simple fact in examining this little hole in the ground. When a rabbit builds a burrow, it builds more than one way in and out. If rabbits, in all their simplistic animal needs, can do such a thing, I am sure these yellow chinese can certainly follow through with planning as well. Would you agree, Batbayar?"
"Of course, Sukbataar," Batbayar said matter-of-factly.
"Good, good, I am glad you agree with me. Men such as us should be of one mind, eh? At any rate, the importance of finding the other entrance to this fucking burrow in the mountain is absolutely necessary, especially before we go barging down in. My plan is simple and efficient. Batbayar, your Zuut shall accompany the remains of my own into the wilderness that surrounds the mountaintop. We will find the other tunnels, if there are any. Once we do, we shall go in and burn them out, taking what we can. But first and foremost, while there is much trophy available to us in this, we must all agree that victory is first."
"It is only logical," Ganbaatar replied, feeling left out of the conversation. "But what shall my Zuut do while yours are looking?"
"Your men will be guarding the entrance," Sukhbataar said bruskly. He saw Ganbaatar's face register obvious disgust. "This is not punishment, Ganbaatar, but we need men here to ensure that none escape. Kill them as they come out, if they come out, and on occassion, while we are away, please remind them with a grenade or two that you are still out here, waiting. I hope to capitalize on their fear, perhaps to make them dig in, and when we attack from another angle, we will make them panic."
"And we will simply flush them out? Batbayar asked quietly.
"Glorious, isn't it?" Sukhbataar grinned, grabbing Batbayar by the shoulder roughly. The two men side by side simply enhanced the stark differences between the two, Sukhbataar's rough and broad build, compared to Batbayar's wiry and lean frame.

*****

Hours passed, with occasional short range radio contact from Ganbaatar, who simply called to check up on them, though it was more out of boredom than anything. He lamented that he only had a small pile of corpses had built up and cursed that he was missing out on the action. Still, his was a necessary sacrifice. Sukhbataar found the will of the Zuut Batbayar lacking. The sheer number of dead by comparison was already strong enough evidence in Sukhbataar's mind that Batbayar was more for pillaging and less for battle. Sukhbataar had decided then and there that if Batbayar was so keen on gaining trophies for himself, he would earn them, pay for them with blood.
Soon, they found the rabbit hole, and the thought of the hunt made Sukhbataar's skin begin to itch in ways it had not since his imprisonment. It made him anxious, jumpy, and agitated. More than that, he was awake, wide awake. His dark eyes had a bloodlust about them, and if he had been lit on fire, he might not have felt it, such was his focus.
"Scoured the mountaintop, found only this entrance," Batbayar said solemnly. Small clumps of snow littered the ground, and they were less than a mile from the ruins that had once been the town. Sukhbataar descended slowly into the cave carved out of the rock. He ran his hands along the stone face, and felt the jagged cuts where chisels and picks had left their marks. In the distance he could hear nothing. Suddenly a strange forboding about this place overtook him and he drew his shotgun, readying it. He could hear the strange chittering, so familiar and so distant. He hadn't heard it in weeks, and he'd hoped he was done with it. Perhaps not. It was strange this time. No longer was it repellent or confusing. Now, it was drawing him in, bringing him deeper into the tunnel. Before he delved too deeply, he called out to Batbayar and the Zuuts to follow him in.
"Batbayar, you and I shall lead from the front," Sukhbataar said solemnly, staring into the darkness of the cave. He did not notice Batbayar's nervousness or the sense of forboding this place had about it.
So strange, so foreign. He did not notice the smell of the air as they slowly delved deeper and deeper into the black pit. Batbayar asked him about torches, to see in this misbegotten inky blackness. Sukhbataar stopped. His men did the same. For a moment he said nothing, and his silence made the tension in the air all the more palpable. Finally, he turned to Batbayar.
"No torches, no light," he whispered slowly, as if distracted. "We will give our position away otherwise. We must not give them the opportunity to prepare."
Silence again, and they moved forward. The darkness overwhelmed them, and soon the tension of that darkness, that slow burning fear began to build in strength. The cramped spaces of the tunnel, as long as it was, the unfamiliar air that surrounded the men, the uncertainty that they kept. It was as if paranoia and claustrophobia were suddenly highly infectious and contagious. Batbayar found himself constantly looking back and harshly whispering threats to his men. The tunnel slowly began to descend deeper into the mountain, the hard rock becoming slippery with condensation, but as they descended further, a warmth began to fall over them. The air became hot, almost unnaturally so considering the season outside, cold outside. All the more, Sukhbataar was slow to answer Batbayar with any question, more aloof and unresponsive, distracted. They could not see in the darkness, but if they had, even the sternest of Mongols would have been disconcerted by the far away look in Sukhbataar's eyes, madness with a hint of fear.
Sukhbataar was distracted. He couldn't see it, but he could feel soemthing calling him forward, urging him on into the darkness. He could feel the chittering through his body, the familiar clacking, the curious gnawing, all through his body. Calling out to him. It flooded his thoughts, vibrated through his bones, and muddled his senses. So close, so near. Not much further now.
The tunnel that seemed to stretch on for hours suddenly opened up into a grand cavern, with a ceiling hundreds of feet high. Monstrous columns of stone littered with crystal that sparkled and fluttered unnaturally in the darkness lined the walls and jutted down from the ceiling and up from the floor. In the distance, the echo of rushing water could be heard, and the constant drip drip drip from the ceiling landing on helmeted heads.
Quickly, the men spread out, nervous, on edge, jumpy, itching to run from the hole. Sukhbataar stood quietly in the center of the room, watching the shadows bounce off the walls from the crystals. They seemed alive, and strangely, it reminded him of the stars in the night sky, eyes watching him from afar, staring, spying. Slowly, he drew his knife and walked over to the nearest column of stone. He jammed the tip of the blade into the rock, attempting to pry a crystal loose. As the glimmering stone popped free, he held it in his hand and ran his gloved thumbs over the glimmering surface. Batbayar approached him quickly.
"Two tunnels, Sukhbataar, one is new. The other is old, appears natural, maybe from the river. The walls are smooth, so it makes sense."
"Why is there a river in a mountain?" Sukhbataar began, staring into the gemstone. It flickered in his hands unnaturally. He glanced up at the ceiling again and a glimmer of recognition passed over his visage. "I wonder," he continued as he looked over the swirling crystals in the ceiling, the seemingly random shapes and placements, "if a man had a star map, could he find where he was looking."
"What?" Batbayar asked quickly, nervous at Sukhbataar's strange change in behavior.
"Nothing, I suppose, it does not matter," Sukhbataar said, shaking his head as if waking from a dream. "What else is here besides the tunnels?"
"The crystals are all I can see. Your orders, Zuut?"
For a moment, Sukhbataar said nothing, walking instead foward, towards the tunnels. To the left was the manmade tunnel, to the right, the old, weathered, beaten down tunnel, which led to water. The whisper of something, so real but in his head, told Sukhbataar he needed to go down that ancient hole. He licked his lips nervously before making a decision.
"Batbayar, you will take your men and a portion of mine through to the new tunnel. I will head down the beaten path, and see what I can see with twenty of my own men. You are to take slaves, women and girls. Any men and boys that surrender will also be led out of the tunnel, and executed on the spot. When that is done, the men are to return to this cavern and collect as many of these crystals as they can. There is something strange about them. They glow with no light at all, and that is something I have never seen. Have you?"
"No, not without a light source. They are not simple quartz stones, I can plainly see that. I will return personally with a contingent after we route the enemy and pry out every stone. Why are you and your men heading down that way? You were so eager before to get into the fight. What has changed your mind?"
"I still may get into the fight," Sukhbataar said quickly, "But we must be certain that this tunnel does not lead to any secret encampments of enemy that can come up behind us."
"I understand, Sukhbataar," Batbayar nodded, "You give me much honor in leading the charge."
"It is not your honor, nor mine," SUkhbataar replied casually, sliding the bolt back on his trench shotgun, loading a shell into the barrel, "It is the Khagan's."

*****

Slowly, Sukhbataar and his men descended further into the mountain. Their guns at the ready, they were tense. Sukhbataar seemed distracted, not quite there, but in reality his senses were never sharper. He was almost overwhelmed as he sniffed the air like a wolf would. He recoiled almost instantly, the air thick with the smell of death. He coughed violently, and a wave of hot air washed over him, as if he was slick with breath and sweat suddenly. As he stumbled, he turned to his men. They appeared perfectly fine. Whatever he was feeling, only he was feeling it.
As his men helped him to his feet, he mumbled incoherently, words they didn't quite understand in an order that was out of place and odd, in a tone that was off. They said nothing in reply, but glanced to one another nervously.
As he stood, Sukhbataar was gripped by a desire to move forward, the insectlike chittering urging him forward. He said nothing to his men, but moved at a quickened pace, a half jog. The tunnel quickly turned down, deeper into the mountain, and the slick surface made movement difficult. It coiled and curled, this way and that, reminding Sukhbataar of the guts he had torn from the bellies of his enemies. He gripped his shotgun tightly in his hands, ready for anything.
Suddenly, the ground dropped out from under him, and he slid down quickly into the deep recesses of the mountain. On his back, through his armor and his heavy leathers, he felt every rock and stone on the way down, forcing him to cry out as pain shot up his spine and through his legs, needle like pain. But even then, the sounds of his cries were drowned out by the chittering maws that surrounded him, his vision cloudy in the darkness, great barbed tongues and tendrils with clawed suckers surrounding him. And suddenly, it stopped.
Sukhbataar dropped to his feet as the tunnel opened to a great cavern, as large as the crystal one. This place was filled with all manner of symbols, vile to look upon, foreign, alien in nature. All painted upon the walls in blood and filth from the bowels of man. His men dropped down behind him, tumbling, but he ignored them, watching in the center of the flesh colored cavern, stone walls pulsating with life, as a great thing approached them, crawling, inching along, whithering and expanding with a taxed breath. Monstrous. As the light from nowhere and everywhere seemingly brightened, Sukhbataar saw the vile thing clearly. His men screamed as its parts came into view. Corpses! It was made of corpses! They pulsed unnaturally as black ichor spurted from seams of fused flesh that rotted. The worm-like beast contracted and expanded, leaving a trail of slime in its wake. The stench was overpowering and Sukhbataar's eyes watered. A great maw opened beneath the shambling mass as tendrils made of intestines and tipped in tongues slathered about mindlessly. Teeth made of ribs chattered back and forth, gnashing hungrily. In a voice that was not his own, Sukhbataar roared like a man possessed, full of fury and hate.
"KILL IT! BUTCHER IT! KILL IT! SHOOT IT! HACK IT! RIP AND TEAR! RIP AND TEAR!" He opened fire on the thing with his shotgun, blasting chunk after chunk out of it. Monstrous in form, it lurched back violently, the bite of hot lead making it howl in unnatural agony. It gurgled and whompled madness as more tendrils struck out randomly. As the maw opened again, a sickening slurping sound was heard as a great tongue made of pulsing, rotting limbs and heads slurped forth. It thrashed about violently, slashing openly, blindly, this way and that as it burbled insanity from the leaking creaks and crevaces in its rolling seeping pores.
Sukhbataar continued to open fire on the thing, his men following suit now. Bullets chewed into it and the warbling horror rolled like a leech wounded, screeching and lashing, its tail end thrumping and thumping the stone ground as it gurgled.
A machine gun was set up as rifles and submachine guns continued. Sukhbataar reloaded his shotgun quickly again and again, still shouting to his men, his bandoliers of heavy 12 gauge ammo finding more and more empty spaces. The thunder of a grenade reverberated along the walls like a visible shockwave. The machine gun roared in anger, as did its gunner, screaming insanity as he held down on the trigger. Mucus and ichor sprayed everywhere as the thing continued to simply soak bullets. More flesh, random bodyparts, fell from it as it slorthed around noisily, whortling in agony, screaming in sounds not meant for ears.
Finally out of ammunition, Sukhbataar pulled his pistols and continued to fire round after round into the beast, before dropping them as well and taking his axe.
"RIP AND TEAR! RIP AND TEAR" Sukhbataar screamed out, in a voice that was not entirely his own, his axe in both hands now as he charged in blind rage. His screams were both high and low, echoing unnaturally with a strange chattering. A tendril lashed out and struck the machine gunner, his face flayed as he screamed, his spine torn out. More grenades were thrown, and more chunks of the thing were blasted from it, ichor splattering against the pulsing walls.
Sukhbataar jumped at the flesh-thing as a monstrous tendril lunged out from mass of corpse bodies at random. Bringing the battle axe down with both hands, he severed the whirling flesh at its base, thick black ichor and mucus spraying in all directions. And still he screamed, bellowing again and again in hate, hacking into it. As the beast rolled onto its back to bear the monstrous maw of a stomach mouth lined with rib-teeth, Sukhbataar sunk his axe in deep, opening up a monstrous gash. The flesh the thing was made from was weak and rotted, and his axe sunk into it as easily as a man's tooth sunk into a soft fruit. He carved away more, hacking into the weak underbelly, and more still as the ragged beast tongue lashed about blindly. The sickening stench was overpowering as Sukhbataar tore open a fluid sack and rows upon rows upon rows of blackening intestines poured out from the thing, leaking pus and slime. Covered in that foul stuff, Sukhbataar finally retreated, vomiting profusely all over himself as he did.
Still, more of his men died to lashing tendrils, and Sukhbataar charged in again as he regained his composure, forcing himself to become accustomed to the bile he was covered in. Another Mongol grabbed the machine gun and let into the beast, distracting it while Sukhbataar hacked into the spilled guts with reckless abandon. Rotting human arms, flesh hanging in chunks, sprang to life as the Zuut fought, grabbing at him, clawing at him. Still, Sukhbataar went on, severing limbs as they tried to stop him. As the flesh thing now rolled and limped back and forth, trying to escape the mongol ripping into it like a rabid hyena, it cried out in agonizing pain, the maw open, spewing bile and blood. As one of the tendril tongues attempted to wrap itself around Sukhbataar it was severed in a single blow, and the monster rapidly gyrated to and fro, crawling along to escape.
"KILL IT! KILL IT!" SUkhbataar screamed in rage, lifting his axe and bringing it down again and again. His words seemed to instill something into his men, and they drew their own swords as the last of their bullets were fired and charged, slashing and stabbing with their sharp curved blades. Rapidly, they tore into it like a pack of blood frenzied pirhana would a dying cow that had foolishly stumbled into their river. It was then that Sukhbataar heard that rhythmic beating, that thump thump thump of the heart. It wasn't his own. It only further served to increase his own terrible frenzy. Like a raving madman, he hacked and hacked and hacked towards that sound, The flesh around that beating organ was black and thick, and the horror simply lay there, defeated, as the Zuut cut away with great powerful blows of his axe. He could see it now, that black pulsing thing, alight with strange power, weeping sludge. With both hands and an unearthly scream, Sukhbataar wrenched the still beating organ from the flesh-thing and held it over his head triumphantly before throwing it to the ground. Quickly, he hefted his axe over his head and brought it down, splitting the heart in half.
It was dead, finally, though it still twitched violently. The men were quiet now, stunned, in shock, too terrified to speak. Some of them ambled about that cavern, the light in their eyes dim and dead, as if the horrors of what they had seen murdered them and they simply did not know it yet. Others simply sat back and stayed there, their eyes rolled back and forth, lolling lazily about, unable to focus on anything. Only Sukhbataar was still of any kind of sane mind, though he did not know why. Quietly, he examined the rest of the room, but besides a strange stone altar and the rotting mass of stinking flesh, he saw nothing worth noting.
The altar itself was old and wicked looking, made of stone and certainly beyond the craftsmanship of anything these yellow chinese were capable of. The shapes were foreign, jagged, and as Sukhbataar ran his bare gloved fingers over the surface of the stone, he could feel no chisel marks or sign of any sanding. It appeared to have been there for quite some time, stained with layer upon layer of blood. Such a waste. He wondered how many had been sacrificed to make such a thing, and a thought shuddered through him of what such a beast could have done to his men had they not acted to fight them. As he lay his hand against the great fanged maw of the stone altar, a statue that depicted a beast of more mouth than physical form, he felt a great urge surge through him. As the chittering chatter continued loudly, he swung his axe wildly, angrily, smashing the thing from the altar, splitting it in twain.
"Alright you fucking bastards," Sukhbataar bellowed angrily, somehow waking his men from their catatonic stupors. "You gonna let those fucks above us get away with this sort of fucking abomination? They would have turned this thing upon the Zuut! We have much work to do! Let's begin with joining our brothers above in the fray!"

*****

Slowly, Sukhbataar and the thirteen remaining men emerged from the pit in the center of what once was the town. They were covered in foul ichor and all manner of horrible things, and they stench of death hung heavily upon them. The others were celebrating ferociously, drinking and yelling and hooting. A great pyre had been made of the dead men and boys, still burning strong, and the smell of cooking meat wafted over the entire mountain. The women and girls were all huddled together, a decree from Batbayar stating that no Mongol would touch them until Sukhbataar gave the command. And it had been obeyed.
The Mongol celebrations stopped immediately when the survivors emerged, and both Batbayar and Ganbaatar stepped forward, the shock registered upon their faces. Others stepped back from them, the stench overwhelming even the aroma of burning flesh.
"We encountered a bit more resistance than I thought we would previously," Sukhbataar said, that vicious rictus grin of his plastered on his face broadly, for all to see. Behind him, his men fell to their knees and wept joyously, for they believed they would never see the surface world again.
They were carefully carried back to the tents that had been set up in the village, and bathed by the girls. Their armor and clothes would be cleaned, and soon the stench was washed away from them. Sukhbataar in particular enjoyed the hands washing his genitals, and a woman looked at it almost fearfully as he reached partial arousal. As he was bathed and lathered, showered with soft hands, both Ganbaatar and Batbayar listened as he recounted what he had encountered down there in that pit. He left out his own visions and the whispers he had heard. Both Zuuts disbelieved him until Ganbaatar, feeling adventurous, traveled down that pit. When he returned, his face was paled and his eyes were wide with horror. He shook his head at the unnatural nature of the thing he had seen. Batbayar was still unsure, but upon description of the thing Ganbaatar had seen, that mound of corpses, the Zuut decided against witnessing the horrors himself.
As the young girls and women cleaned every inch of Sukhbataar's body, he was faced with a choice that he needed to make, both for his own Zuut, who's numbers had been depleted to almost half, as well as for those following him. Rewarding good behavior was certainly something he wished to do, even if he felt it was beneath him. Still, the touch of those small feminine hands was certainly something he could not ignore. There was also the problem of raiders, more organized than previously thought, striking across the border. Choices, choices, choices.

Should we:
Choice A) Divvy up the women and girls as slaves for the survivors. Because Batbayar lost twenty men while retaking the tunnels and Sukhbataar himself lost another seven down below. Because of this, Sukhbataar's Zuut has first picks of the best and freshest of them. Ignore the raiders across the border, far to the south, and return for a well deserved rest. This will certainly endear you to all those present, and perhaps make you more popular with those who did not choose to follow you.

Choice B) Do not divvy up the women. Instead, take them back to the fortress with you. They can be made of good use for whatever the Tumen would decide. This is an excellent opportunity to try and get back into his good graces, though the Mongols that followed you will certainly be put out by your lack of appreciation for their efforts.

Choice C) Same as Choice A, except this time, instead of heading to the fortress for rest and relaxation, you instead make your way south towards the border. As this is going on, you stop at various outposts and villages with your train of men and slaves, resupplying as you go along. Your next major battle awaits with the raiders. Your men are tired, but certainly ready to fight for you even further. And word is spreading about the camp of your monstrous battle prowess.

Choice D) Same as Choice B, except except this time, instead of heading to the fortress for rest and relaxation, you instead make your way south towards the border. As this is going on, you stop at various outposts and villages with your train of men and slaves, resupplying as you go along. Your next major battle awaits with the raiders. Your men are tired, but certainly ready to fight for you even further. And word is spreading about the camp of your monstrous battle prowess.

Choice E) Choice A, but instead of immediately returning, stay and investigate the happenings of this village with the other Zuuts. We could all do for some rest and relaxation, but the horrors we encountered here are certainly something worth knowing. The mountain itself and the nearby villages and outposts can resupply the camp with ease.

Choice F) Choice B, but instead of immediately returning, stay and investigate the happenings of this village with the other Zuuts. We could all do for some rest and relaxation, but the horrors we encountered here are certainly something worth knowing. The mountain itself and the nearby villages and outposts can resupply the camp with ease. Being around so many slaves and whore, however, without any release, might make the men angsty, and with no battle to fight, certainly they will quarrel amongst themselves. They are only human, after all...
 

Azira

Arcane
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Nov 3, 2004
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8,519
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Copenhagen, Denmark
Codex 2012
E, this flesh-mound abomination warrants investigation, and the Zuut seems to be the only one immune to its paralysing fear aura.
 

Gondolin

Arcane
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Oct 6, 2007
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Purveyor of fine art
E.

Let's see what the Old Ones are up to. I don't suppose we could send word to base that we have wiped out the mountain outpost and that we could do with some reinforcements?
 

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