Chapter 3: Fiendish Intervention
Location: Urbania, Eastern District
Exiting the Lookout Watch, the four heavily armed men stood in the eastern section of Urbania, set to face the Fiends of the Mohave Wasteland, recover the Brown Minions for the Overlord, and gain one step closer to winning the Ultimate Tournament. That is, once a few issues get worked out.
"Alright, here's the deal," Jack said, lighting another cigarette. "At the moment, I don't like any of you. Especially you." He shot an angry glance at Travis, who merely folded his arms and grunted. "We've got mistrust issues, but if we're ever going to go through this plan Cinder has for us, we need to get past them."
"I'm willing to do that." Eddie said, tuning his guitar. "In fact, I've got no problems with you two… It's the Iron Maiden here that's got me on edge."
"Stay your tongue, whelp!" The Overlord bellowed, towering over the Roadie with a menacing, red-eyed gaze. "I have not felled hundreds of men, monsters, dwarves, elves, and halflings just to be mocked by a scruffy Wildman with an axe and a lute!" One of the strings on Clementine twanged as Eddie's eye shot open.
"Don't you ever call Clementine a fucking lute you gigantic tin can." Eddie growled through clenched teeth. "And another thing, can you knock it off with the damn 'I'm-So-Evil' voice? I can feel it in my crotch."
"My Voice of Darkness strikes fear in the hearts of mortals!" The Overlord shouted, arms raised in the air. "It makes my foes tremble before my malevolent form!"
"Well, shut it off around us." Travis said. "It'd be hard to focus with you shouting all the time, and this might be the best way to keep things on a more equal level."
"For once, Travis has a point." Jack said, striding to the massive man of evil. "Can you talk normally around us, and then use your evil voice when we fight?" For a few moments, the Overlord sputtered, glancing at his newfound allies with shock and confusion. Upon seeing the looks on the others, he conceded with a loud sigh that sounded more like a metallic hiss.
"Very well…" The Overlord said. "How's this?" Travis and Eddie's jaws nearly dropped, while Jack merely raised an eyebrow. Compared to his Voice of Darkness, his normal voice was… actually quite modest. It still had a ring of deepness in it, but he sounded like an older English gentleman without the ominous boom. Granted it was still a bit creepy, it was a much better pace.
"Keep talking, I like where this is going." Travis said, a smirk forming on his face. "Say something else."
"Erm…" The Overlord mumbled, scratching the back of his helm. "Around the rugged rocks, the ragged rascal ran?" Travis began clapping frantically, cheering the large armored man.
"Again! Again!" Travis cheered… Only to be slugged in the shoulder by Jack… With the metal arm. Meaning it sent him spiraling to the floor with a bruise that threatened to be a broken bone.
"Quit acting like a kid, Touchdown." Jack said, spitting his cigarette out. "And we're wasting time. With every moment we waste talking, the Fiends keep working those ugly imps of yours to death and the Render's preparing for someone to take him down." He turned to Eddie, the Roadie once again tuning the guitar. "Eddie, you came in this way. Take point and lead us to the Fiend Base."
"Yes sir, drill sergeant!" Eddie said with a mock salute, followed by a chuckle. Strapping his guitar to his back, Eddie led the others down the streets towards the run-down zone, absolutely brimming with warring factions and competing fighters. Since Eddie was there last, the place was already a warzone between the currently dominating Raiders of the Wasteland, especially the Fiends, and the steadily encroaching Saints. Now it appeared that the Saints gained more grounds, buildings and rubble tagged with their iconic purple Fleur Dis Lis, but the Fiends had acquired better armaments, and continued to push back. To any sane person, this would be about as smart as attending the Annual Bee Convention covered in honey. To the Heart of Steel, this was about as simple as a walk to the store in a battle tank.
On the street that lead directly to the Factory where their target lay, the entire area is one battle between Saints hiding behind rubble and vehicles for defense, shooting with pistols and SMGs, and the Fiends who had somehow managed to get ahold of assault rifles, but still stuck to flimsy knives and pool cues. Meanwhile, the Heart of Steel stands just a few yards away from the crossfire, watching as both sides riddled each other with bullets.
"Yeah, there's no way we're taking the main road." Travis said. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to get turned into Swiss cheese day one of the Tournament."
"I'm with you there, Travis." Eddie said, watching as a Fiend Guy's head exploded when introduced to a speeding bullet. "I say we cut through Fiend territory, thin their numbers a bit, and maybe the Saints will give us a hand. I saved one of their leaders on my way to the Watch, so they kind of owe me."
"They're gangsters," Jack said, cracking his neck. "They won't care who saved them, just that we'd get in the way. I don't care which way we go, but I don't trust any of them."
"Jack's right… Which makes me want to wash my mouth out." Travis said, making a mock gagging noise. "Last time I trusted a gangster, my best friend's head was thrown through my window in a paper bag. Whatever way we go, I just want to get to the killing and winning."
"I will crush any who stand in my way!" The Overlord boomed, swinging his mace around.
"The voice, Tin Man," Eddie said, tapping the gigantic menace. "We talked about the voice already." The Overlord slumped, grunting to himself.
"It's not easy you know…" The Overlord said. "But as I was saying, I will slaughter whoever comes my way, be it these feeble gangs or those twitching savages."
"Then we're all in favor of sneaking around the Fiends?" Eddie asked, receiving nods from everyone else. "Rock on! Let's get this tour started." The Roadie unsheathed his axe and took off down the nearest side street, followed by the Overlord with his mace, Travis with his blue Beam Katana, and Jack with his chainsaw revving. And slowly stalking behind, and also narrowly avoiding getting shot out of the sky is one of our little radio robots.
"Rick, buddy, I sense an awesome fight between our new badass group and a bunch of druggies incoming." Slick's voice said. "Do you know what this means?"
"A lot of dismemberment, death, and a large cleaning bill to follow?" Rick's voice asked.
"No, you stupid…" Slick grumbled. "It means we got to play kickass fighting music to set the mood!"
"I know that, I'm just messing with you." Rick said. "I'm thinking… Overly Aggressive Rap Music?"
"Perfect! Absolutely perfect!" Slick cheered, clapping. "And I know just the one! Get the engines revving with Death and Honor by Wordsmith!"
'Bringin' the pain. No remains. Here to reign. (Who want more?) Fight to death. Final breath. I beat cha' best (Break-you-down!)…'
*Highly Recommending Listening to the Song as you Continue*
Rounding around the corner, the Heart of Steel encountered six poorly-armed Fiends in an alley, clad in scantily made armor and armed with knives and pool cues, all twitching violently as the chems pumped through their systems drove them wild. One of the violent raiders, a filthy man with cornrow hair holding a blunt kitchen knife, caught wind of the four men and started barking orders to his comrades. He barely got four words out before Jack's metallic fist crushed his head into a concrete wall. His other buddies reacted viciously, brandishing junkyard weapons and roaring in vulgar tongues, as they charged to avenge their fallen. Two of them, holding sharpened shovels like spears, sprinted towards Jack as he yanked his fist from the wall, but were quickly intercepted by Travis, his Beam Katana cutting the flimsy weapons in two. The looks of confusion and terror on the Fiend's faces froze once Travis cut right through them, their upper halves falling onto the floor as their lower halves tumbled with them. The remaining three Fiends, two armed with clubs and one with a chipped sword, formed some semblance of a strategy involving running in a straight line and swinging wildly. This strategy proved to be ineffective as the Overlord lazily slammed his mace into the two Fiends with clubs, a satisfying crunching sound reverberating off the walls as their spines bent at a discomforting angle. The remaining Fiend looked on in fear as Eddie walked over to him with a casual smirk on his face, and with his axe, took his head clean off. The four now bloodied warriors took a moment's pause to admire their handiwork before them.
"Wow. That went over really smoothly." Eddie said, kicking the severed head down the alley. "That bit you did, cutting their weapons, was sick, Travis."
"It was nothing," Travis said, waving dismissively. "Wouldn't have gotten the chance if Jack hadn't caught them off guard." Jack merely grunted, examining his metallic and now bloodstained hand.
"*fzzt* Testing, hello? Is this thing working?" Said an oddly familiar voice, coming from nowhere, yet seeming close at the same time. "Hey, guys, it's Agent Cinder! I'm using the ECHOs I gave you to radio in." The four men remembered Cinder giving them those earpieces, but assumed they merely were for location objectives.
Jack pressed a finger to his ECHO on his ear. "Reading you, loud and clear, Cinder."
"Perfect. Now, I just realized that I gave you instructions," Cinder said. "To deal with the Fiends, and all, but there's still the matter of rules now that you've gone on from being a bunch of solo competitors to a group. Let me get the fundamentals straight for you four." Travis immediately caught on, and let off a loud groan.
"Don't tell me you're going all tutorial mode on us, dude." Travis complained. "I get tired of this shit quickly."
"Shut it, Touchdown." Jack said."
"My words exactly, Mr. Cayman." Cinder said. "I don't like doing it either, but I've got obligations in my contract as Official to fulfill. If I don't do it, they take away my privileges to the executive washroom and a personal room at Hotel Nebula. So quit your bitching and let's get to learning. Oh, and you're associates will be assisting me."
"Hey, Eddie! This ECHO thing is awesome!" Magnus' voice echoed on the communicator. "It's got maps, a to-do list, health monitor, inventory, and a built in radio!"
"Yes… Thank you for your input, smelly man." Sylvia's voice muttered.
"Can we get on with it?!" Cinder snapped. Everyone suddenly went quiet. "Thank you. Now, standard rules for Solo Competitors are pretty much kill or be killed, as well as free access to different zones. However, this is different for Teams."
"Wait, does this mean we're stuck here?" Eddie asked. "So that means I'm cut off from the rest of Ironheade…"
"Unfortunately, this is true." Cinder said without a hint of remorse. "Until you've proven yourselves strong enough to conquer your current zone, you cannot move to the other areas. That being, until we get complete domination of Urbania, be it peacefully or through bloodshed, we can't leave."
"Easier said than done, Cinder." The Overlord boomed, quickly realizing he went into his evil voice before correcting himself. "*cough* So what of the methods for getting us access."
"Why, it's quite simple, my liege." Gnarl's voice said over the ECHO. "It all revolves around the Ranked Champion."
"Precisely, Gnarl!" Cinder applauded. "There are a total of three types of people competing in the Tournament who fight in Factions: The Fighters, who pretty much are the mooks and thugs who get in the way."
"Like these six shit-heads who got in our way." Travis added.
"Next are the Ranked Fighters, who lead a majority of a certain Faction and hold a major position in the Tournament," Cinder continued. "Such as that dumbass Joe you're going to deal with. But lastly are the Ranked Champions. Those are the guys who pretty much hold the cards in the area, and what they say goes. Granted, they get that way for being the best of the best, and having more than enough blood on their hands."
"So what you're saying is…" Jack mused, rubbing his chin. "We deal with the Ranked Champion of Urbania, we get ourselves out of here?"
"Plus the support of whoever survives in the turf war." Cinder said. "Granted, it won't be easy, because most Ranked Champions tend to stick to the shadows until they feel threatened, or someone's worthy of their time."
Eddie snapped his fingers, dropping his cigarette by accident. "I get it! We cause enough trouble here in Urbania, starting with the Fiends, then we draw the Ranked Champion out of hiding! It's both fun, and it gets the job done." Eddie chuckled. "Good plan. I like it."
"Knew you would, otherwise I'd have you killed." The line suddenly went silence. "Joke, it… it was a joke." Someone coughed, making the situation even more awkward. "This just got weird."
"Then… are we done?" Jack asked. "Because we've got a shitload of Fiends to mow through, and we don't have the time for this nonsense." Cinder merely muttered to himself and closed the channel. With no further distractions, the Heart of Steel continued onwards into the Fiend infested area, preparing for whatever was thrown at them.