EbeneSSR Scrooge sat in his darkened study, revolver gleaming in the firelight. Past and Present had dragged him through every regret and failure, tormenting him with twisted visions of his life. But Christmas Future would be different—Scrooge would be ready.
midnight, he stormed into Future’s realm, expecting dread and shadow. Instead, he found opulence: a roaring fire, a grand tree sparkling with lights, and stunning elves, their costumes revealing, descending his staircase, their smiles full of warmth and joy.
“Welcome,” said Future, it's voice beckoning from all directions. “This is your reward for embracing change: joy, warmth, indulgence.”
Scrooge’s eyes narrowed. The fire burned too brightly, the elves’ smiles too sharp. He raised his revolver, cocking it with a steady hand. “You think I’m a fool? This isn’t salvation—it’s a gilded trap.”
Future’s voice faltered. “And if it is? What’s the alternative? A cold, bitter existence?”
“Better bitter than blind,” Scrooge growled. His already sour mood darkened, the elves continued their approach, the fire roared higher, but he stood firm.
“Merry Christmas, spirit,” Scrooge said, his smirk returning. “Now get out of my way.”
The revolver felt warm in his hand, he pulled the trigger, again and again. For once, Scrooge felt alive.
midnight, he stormed into Future’s realm, expecting dread and shadow. Instead, he found opulence: a roaring fire, a grand tree sparkling with lights, and stunning elves, their costumes revealing, descending his staircase, their smiles full of warmth and joy.
“Welcome,” said Future, it's voice beckoning from all directions. “This is your reward for embracing change: joy, warmth, indulgence.”
Scrooge’s eyes narrowed. The fire burned too brightly, the elves’ smiles too sharp. He raised his revolver, cocking it with a steady hand. “You think I’m a fool? This isn’t salvation—it’s a gilded trap.”
Future’s voice faltered. “And if it is? What’s the alternative? A cold, bitter existence?”
“Better bitter than blind,” Scrooge growled. His already sour mood darkened, the elves continued their approach, the fire roared higher, but he stood firm.
“Merry Christmas, spirit,” Scrooge said, his smirk returning. “Now get out of my way.”
The revolver felt warm in his hand, he pulled the trigger, again and again. For once, Scrooge felt alive.
The sun dipped low on the horizon as Mara's archer line held strong against the raiders. The outer wall breached, they now barricaded the gate to the chapel, their last line of defence. Mara's eyes scanned the chaos, her fingers flying as she loosed arrow after arrow at the invaders.
To her left, Irina stood closest, her arrows finding their mark with deadly precision. Next to Irina, Jojo stumbled back, an arrow piercing her. Her eyes locked on Mara for a fleeting moment before she collapsed to the ground.
Farthest left, Katarina crouched as best she could, firing arrow after arrow at the raiders. On Mara's right, Laura took an arrow to her chest and another in her belly and fell back, her pained cry carrying over the din.
As the last of their arrows flew, Mara drew one from her quiver, her hand shaking slightly as she held it poised. The sound of clashing steel and screams filled the air. She glanced around at the fallen bodies, her heart heavy with grief and fear. She looked down at the single arrow in her hand, then back out at the sea of raiders, her eyes wide with a mix of determination and terror as she realized this might be her final shot.
To her left, Irina stood closest, her arrows finding their mark with deadly precision. Next to Irina, Jojo stumbled back, an arrow piercing her. Her eyes locked on Mara for a fleeting moment before she collapsed to the ground.
Farthest left, Katarina crouched as best she could, firing arrow after arrow at the raiders. On Mara's right, Laura took an arrow to her chest and another in her belly and fell back, her pained cry carrying over the din.
As the last of their arrows flew, Mara drew one from her quiver, her hand shaking slightly as she held it poised. The sound of clashing steel and screams filled the air. She glanced around at the fallen bodies, her heart heavy with grief and fear. She looked down at the single arrow in her hand, then back out at the sea of raiders, her eyes wide with a mix of determination and terror as she realized this might be her final shot.
The chamber was silent except for the heavy breathing of the two warriors standing before him. SSR gazed upon Rose and Karen. His prize fighter, Rose, exuded confidence with her athletic build, brunette hair tied back in a half bun, her black outfit showcasing her toned body. With a claw blade clutched in each hand making her an intimidating figure. Karen, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with. Her shorter stature belied her fierce determination and fighting prowess. Identically dressed, but the intensity in her eyes set her apart. Claw blades at the ready, she seemed to radiate unyielding aggression.
SSR's voice broke the silence as he addressed Rose, "Karen has challenged you, Rose. You must fight." The tone was firm yet even, devoid of emotion. Rose's gaze never wavered; she looked at Karen with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Karen, however, scowled, her face twisting in a snarl as if ready to tear Rose apart.
As they sparred, blades clashing, the two fighters sized each other up, suddenly, Karen floored Rose with a swift, high kick that caught Rose off guard, sending her crashing to the ground. Instinctively, Karen pounced onto Rose's prone form, her blades poised above her victim's face. Their eyes met in a fleeting moment of mutual understanding, then Karen drove one blade into Rose's chest as SSR kneeled to watch. The second blade followed, and as Rose lay dying, Karen rose to her right knee, looking over her shoulder at SSR. Her gaze was a challenge, a declaration that she would not be defeated so easily. SSR's expression remained impassive, but his words carried a hint of approval: "She will make a good addition to my collection.", placing a gentle hand on the back of Karen's head. As their eyes locked, it was as if an unspoken understanding passed between them.
"Next fighter!" SSR bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber. The door slid open, revealing a new challenger.
SSR's voice broke the silence as he addressed Rose, "Karen has challenged you, Rose. You must fight." The tone was firm yet even, devoid of emotion. Rose's gaze never wavered; she looked at Karen with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Karen, however, scowled, her face twisting in a snarl as if ready to tear Rose apart.
As they sparred, blades clashing, the two fighters sized each other up, suddenly, Karen floored Rose with a swift, high kick that caught Rose off guard, sending her crashing to the ground. Instinctively, Karen pounced onto Rose's prone form, her blades poised above her victim's face. Their eyes met in a fleeting moment of mutual understanding, then Karen drove one blade into Rose's chest as SSR kneeled to watch. The second blade followed, and as Rose lay dying, Karen rose to her right knee, looking over her shoulder at SSR. Her gaze was a challenge, a declaration that she would not be defeated so easily. SSR's expression remained impassive, but his words carried a hint of approval: "She will make a good addition to my collection.", placing a gentle hand on the back of Karen's head. As their eyes locked, it was as if an unspoken understanding passed between them.
"Next fighter!" SSR bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber. The door slid open, revealing a new challenger.
Laura and her ninjas moved like a black wave through the town, shattering the defenders' lines. The fishing docks, once peaceful, now echoed with the chaotic sounds of battle.
At the forefront of the defenders stood Hanna, she fought fiercely, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. However, the sheer numbers of Laura's ninjas began to overwhelm her. With a final, desperate swing, Hanna was struck down. She fell back against a wall, sliding down as her strength left her.
Nearby, Karen, dark-haired and fierce, clashed with Laura herself. The confrontation was brief but brutal. Laura's sai sliced through the air with lethal intent, finding its mark. Blood sprayed, a crimson arc against the night, as the defender crumpled to the ground, her lifeblood pooling around her.
Despite their relentless assault, Laura's ninjas paid a heavy price for their advance. The defenders, though outnumbered, fought with desperate ferocity, each one taking multiple attackers with them before falling. The docks were littered with the bodies of the fallen, both defenders and invaders alike.
At the forefront of the defenders stood Hanna, she fought fiercely, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. However, the sheer numbers of Laura's ninjas began to overwhelm her. With a final, desperate swing, Hanna was struck down. She fell back against a wall, sliding down as her strength left her.
Nearby, Karen, dark-haired and fierce, clashed with Laura herself. The confrontation was brief but brutal. Laura's sai sliced through the air with lethal intent, finding its mark. Blood sprayed, a crimson arc against the night, as the defender crumpled to the ground, her lifeblood pooling around her.
Despite their relentless assault, Laura's ninjas paid a heavy price for their advance. The defenders, though outnumbered, fought with desperate ferocity, each one taking multiple attackers with them before falling. The docks were littered with the bodies of the fallen, both defenders and invaders alike.
Jojo, fierce and unyielding, led her troops up the winding mountain path. Her black leather armour glistened in the sunlight, the steel of her formidable axe by her side. As they rounded the final corner, the imposing town walls loomed ahead, a stark reminder of their mission. Jojo's eyes narrowed as she spotted the commander on the battlements.
Today was special—Jojo’s birthday. Capturing the town of SpireForge would be the ultimate gift, a testament to her strength and leadership. She felt her heart pound in her chest, each step bringing them closer to glory. With a guttural yell, she pointed towards the foe, signalling her troops to charge.
The women behind her responded with a resounding roar, their weapons at the ready. The clash of steel and the cries of battle filled the air as they stormed the castle, driven by their fearless leader.
Jojo's forces were relentless. Every swing of her axe brought them closer to their goal. Her birthday celebration would be marked by the conquest of this fortress.
In a final, decisive push, they overwhelmed the defenders. The town was theirs, a hard-won gift for their fearless leader. As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the battlements, Jojo knew this would be a birthday she’d never forget.
Today was special—Jojo’s birthday. Capturing the town of SpireForge would be the ultimate gift, a testament to her strength and leadership. She felt her heart pound in her chest, each step bringing them closer to glory. With a guttural yell, she pointed towards the foe, signalling her troops to charge.
The women behind her responded with a resounding roar, their weapons at the ready. The clash of steel and the cries of battle filled the air as they stormed the castle, driven by their fearless leader.
Jojo's forces were relentless. Every swing of her axe brought them closer to their goal. Her birthday celebration would be marked by the conquest of this fortress.
In a final, decisive push, they overwhelmed the defenders. The town was theirs, a hard-won gift for their fearless leader. As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the battlements, Jojo knew this would be a birthday she’d never forget.
Iva and Elise moved like shadows through the sunlit town, their breath quick and shallow. For hours, they had exchanged blows, neither gaining the upper hand. The narrow streets echoed with the clash of steel. Iva, gripping her sai tightly, watched Elise's every move, waiting for an opening. Elise's katana glinted, reflecting the bright light as she slashed through the air, missing Iva by inches.
They fought their way to the town's ancient bridge, its stone arch stretching over a fast-flowing river. With a burst of speed, Iva dashed up the steps leading to the bridge. Elise followed, her eyes cold and calculating. Iva spun around, crouching low, her muscles coiled. In a blur, she launched herself from the steps, her sais aimed at Elise's heart.
Elise's eyes widened as she raised her katana, bracing for the impact. Time seemed to slow as Iva closed the distance, her weapons on a deadly trajectory.
They fought their way to the town's ancient bridge, its stone arch stretching over a fast-flowing river. With a burst of speed, Iva dashed up the steps leading to the bridge. Elise followed, her eyes cold and calculating. Iva spun around, crouching low, her muscles coiled. In a blur, she launched herself from the steps, her sais aimed at Elise's heart.
Elise's eyes widened as she raised her katana, bracing for the impact. Time seemed to slow as Iva closed the distance, her weapons on a deadly trajectory.
In the heart of the dense jungle, Iva, a lone warrior, moved with silent purpose. Her eyes, sharp as the blade she carried, beheld a sight that stoked the fires of her fury—a settlement had taken root, its shanties a blight upon her ancestral land.
Unsheathing her sword, Iva advanced with lethal determination. The settler's guards emerged, armed with swords of their own, their defiance a challenge she welcomed. With a primal cry, Iva surged forward, her blade a whirlwind of death. Settler guards lunged, their swords flashing in the dappled sunlight, but Iva was a tempest unleashed. Guard after guard fell beneath her relentless assault, their feeble defences no match for her skill and rage. The clash of metal rang through the jungle, a symphony of violence that echoed across the canopy.
Blood stained the earth as Iva carved a path through the settlement, her fury unyielding, her purpose unwavering. The settlers fought with desperation, but against the fury of nature incarnate, they stood no chance.
Unsheathing her sword, Iva advanced with lethal determination. The settler's guards emerged, armed with swords of their own, their defiance a challenge she welcomed. With a primal cry, Iva surged forward, her blade a whirlwind of death. Settler guards lunged, their swords flashing in the dappled sunlight, but Iva was a tempest unleashed. Guard after guard fell beneath her relentless assault, their feeble defences no match for her skill and rage. The clash of metal rang through the jungle, a symphony of violence that echoed across the canopy.
Blood stained the earth as Iva carved a path through the settlement, her fury unyielding, her purpose unwavering. The settlers fought with desperation, but against the fury of nature incarnate, they stood no chance.
As I stood on the towering walls of our castle, the din of battle roared around me. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smoke of arrows. With my spear gripped tightly in hand, I scanned the chaos below, bracing for the relentless onslaught of the enemy.
Arrows whizzed by, a deadly rain from both sides, as archers sought to pick off any target of opportunity. With each thud against the stone walls, my heart quickened, realising that ladder bearers had reached us. One by one, the ladders clung to the walls like desperate vines, the attackers started to climb to us. With practiced precision, I lunged forward, knocking down two assailants as they attempted to ascend. But the onslaught was unyielding, and one enemy warrior, her dark hair flowing behind her and rage in her soul, managed to crest the wall, her eyes fierce with determination.
Without hesitation, I charged toward her, my spear poised like a serpent's strike. In that moment, time seemed to slow, she raised her mace and charged, swinging her shield forwards. I was the faster one, before her shield was up my spear met her chest, she screamed as the tip pierced her and brought her to an immediate halt, falling to her knees.
As our clash played out, a second attacker scaled the wall, her silhouette a shadow against the chaos. As she reached the crest, arrows sliced through the air from the archers on the keep, the impacts giving a horrifying thud. She fell backwards from the wall, narrowly missing her sisters climbing behind her.
With my opponent on her knees, I pushed my spear into her hard, before looking around for any more that had reached the top, this was not over...
Arrows whizzed by, a deadly rain from both sides, as archers sought to pick off any target of opportunity. With each thud against the stone walls, my heart quickened, realising that ladder bearers had reached us. One by one, the ladders clung to the walls like desperate vines, the attackers started to climb to us. With practiced precision, I lunged forward, knocking down two assailants as they attempted to ascend. But the onslaught was unyielding, and one enemy warrior, her dark hair flowing behind her and rage in her soul, managed to crest the wall, her eyes fierce with determination.
Without hesitation, I charged toward her, my spear poised like a serpent's strike. In that moment, time seemed to slow, she raised her mace and charged, swinging her shield forwards. I was the faster one, before her shield was up my spear met her chest, she screamed as the tip pierced her and brought her to an immediate halt, falling to her knees.
As our clash played out, a second attacker scaled the wall, her silhouette a shadow against the chaos. As she reached the crest, arrows sliced through the air from the archers on the keep, the impacts giving a horrifying thud. She fell backwards from the wall, narrowly missing her sisters climbing behind her.
With my opponent on her knees, I pushed my spear into her hard, before looking around for any more that had reached the top, this was not over...
It's that time of year when people start logging off, shutting down their work PC, hanging up the gloves/overalls and settling in to gorge on turkey, roast potatoes and pigs in blankets. But whilst you're getting comfortable and inebriated, spare a thought for Santa and his hench elfs, chasing the goblins away and preventing them from succeeding in their evil plan to make everyone's turkey go rotten, children's presents break, and mulled wine run out....
Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you get everything you asked Santa for and that weird uncle Bob falls asleep before he gets into arguments with everyone 😉
Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you get everything you asked Santa for and that weird uncle Bob falls asleep before he gets into arguments with everyone 😉
Another one of those "abandoned scenes found on SSR's hard drive".
"goat thing.duf" has been sitting there for years, mocking me. I have no idea what this was ever supposed to be or why it was abandoned, but it only took a couple of tweaks to make it reasonable, so why not?
No idea when I made this, but one G8 amongst G3 figures suggest it was around 2018....
"goat thing.duf" has been sitting there for years, mocking me. I have no idea what this was ever supposed to be or why it was abandoned, but it only took a couple of tweaks to make it reasonable, so why not?
No idea when I made this, but one G8 amongst G3 figures suggest it was around 2018....
The town quivered beneath the oppressive force of Laura's onslaught. Her army, a horde of shadowy figures, descended upon the fishing docks with ruthless determination. Amidst the chaos, a group of brave defenders— Irina, Hanna, Theresa, Katarina, and Esther—stood as the last line of resistance.
Meanwhile, Hanna, a swift and agile defender, engaged in a whirlwind of blades with two of Laura's ninjas. Her movements were a deadly dance, but outnumbered, she succumbed to the relentless assault, wounded in her abs, a swift kick sent her to the floor. The docks witnessed her valiant stand as she fell, her opponent showed her no mercy.
Theresa, a fierce combatant, faced a nimble and skilled opponent. The clash between their contrasting styles was a spectacle of raw power versus finesse. In the end, Theresa's strength prevailed. With a deft manoeuvre, she crouched before her adversary before delivering a fatal upward blow that left her sprawled on the unforgiving docks.
Katarina and Esther fought in tandem, displaying a synchronicity born of years of training together. Their teamwork was a testament to their bond, but even their exceptional skill couldn't stave off the relentless tide. But in the chaos of the battle they were separated. As Katarina fell to a barrage of sai strikes, at the other side of the yard, Esther searched for her battle sister. Confused, she didn't see the strike before it knocked her sword from her hand, her cruel opponent plunging Esther's own sword into her chest and pinned Esther against the wall. She looked down in horror and reached for the handle as her life was extinguished.
In the heart of the turmoil, Irina faced off against Laura in a brutal duel. The air crackled with the clash of their weapons. In a swift, calculated feint, Laura immobilised Irina's right arm above her head. Irina, undeterred, fought on with a grim determination, but Laura seized the opportunity. With a merciless swing of her sai, she struck Irina in the chest, sending her crumpling to the ground.
In the aftermath, the docks were painted in the blood of the fallen. Laura stood triumphant amid the wreckage. The defenders lay scattered, their individual battles etched in the wounds that marked their bodies.
With a predatory gleam in her eyes, Laura approached the fallen Irina. The air hung heavy with the scent of impending doom. In a final, merciless act, Laura raised her sai high above her head and plunged it into Irina's chest. The once-resilient defender convulsed, the life draining from her eyes as Laura revelled in the cruel victory. The town echoed with the somber aftermath of a battle waged in shadows. Laura's conquest only one more step in her insatiable quest for power.
Meanwhile, Hanna, a swift and agile defender, engaged in a whirlwind of blades with two of Laura's ninjas. Her movements were a deadly dance, but outnumbered, she succumbed to the relentless assault, wounded in her abs, a swift kick sent her to the floor. The docks witnessed her valiant stand as she fell, her opponent showed her no mercy.
Theresa, a fierce combatant, faced a nimble and skilled opponent. The clash between their contrasting styles was a spectacle of raw power versus finesse. In the end, Theresa's strength prevailed. With a deft manoeuvre, she crouched before her adversary before delivering a fatal upward blow that left her sprawled on the unforgiving docks.
Katarina and Esther fought in tandem, displaying a synchronicity born of years of training together. Their teamwork was a testament to their bond, but even their exceptional skill couldn't stave off the relentless tide. But in the chaos of the battle they were separated. As Katarina fell to a barrage of sai strikes, at the other side of the yard, Esther searched for her battle sister. Confused, she didn't see the strike before it knocked her sword from her hand, her cruel opponent plunging Esther's own sword into her chest and pinned Esther against the wall. She looked down in horror and reached for the handle as her life was extinguished.
In the heart of the turmoil, Irina faced off against Laura in a brutal duel. The air crackled with the clash of their weapons. In a swift, calculated feint, Laura immobilised Irina's right arm above her head. Irina, undeterred, fought on with a grim determination, but Laura seized the opportunity. With a merciless swing of her sai, she struck Irina in the chest, sending her crumpling to the ground.
In the aftermath, the docks were painted in the blood of the fallen. Laura stood triumphant amid the wreckage. The defenders lay scattered, their individual battles etched in the wounds that marked their bodies.
With a predatory gleam in her eyes, Laura approached the fallen Irina. The air hung heavy with the scent of impending doom. In a final, merciless act, Laura raised her sai high above her head and plunged it into Irina's chest. The once-resilient defender convulsed, the life draining from her eyes as Laura revelled in the cruel victory. The town echoed with the somber aftermath of a battle waged in shadows. Laura's conquest only one more step in her insatiable quest for power.
Isra sprinted through the temple grounds, her heart racing in tandem with the echoing footsteps of the four relentless pursuers from Laura's ever growing ranks. Moonlight painted fleeting shadows on the red fabric of her attire as she maneuverered through the ancient sanctuary.
As Isra reached a serene garden, she spotted a small red wooden bridge that gracefully arched over a tranquil stream. Recognizing the tactical advantage of the narrow bridge, she deftly leaped onto it, forcing her pursuers into a confined space.
Midway across the bridge, Isra's hand deftly reached for the pouch at her side, retrieving a handful of gleaming kunai. Her eyes, sharp and focused, locked onto her targets. With swift precision, she hurled the first kunai.
The weapon found its mark, striking the leading pursuer in the chest. The fatally wounded ninja stumbled backward, losing her balance. In a cruel twist of fate, she landed on the banister of the bridge, her back against the hard wood, her exposed belly facing the sky.
Reaching the far side of the bridge, Isra turned and crouched as seh unleashed the second kunai. It found its mark in the chest of another pursuer, who fell backwards, screaming in pain, the impact resonating through her mesh clad body. The sudden chaos disrupted the formation of the pursuers, creating a momentary advantage for Isra.
As the third ninja turned her head to witness the fall of her comrades, shock and disbelief momentarily clouded her face. Her distraction proved fatal. Isra seized the opportunity, her final kunai unleashed with lethal precision. The third ninja, still in a state of shock, took the full force of the attack, her body recoiling with the impact.
As Isra reached a serene garden, she spotted a small red wooden bridge that gracefully arched over a tranquil stream. Recognizing the tactical advantage of the narrow bridge, she deftly leaped onto it, forcing her pursuers into a confined space.
Midway across the bridge, Isra's hand deftly reached for the pouch at her side, retrieving a handful of gleaming kunai. Her eyes, sharp and focused, locked onto her targets. With swift precision, she hurled the first kunai.
The weapon found its mark, striking the leading pursuer in the chest. The fatally wounded ninja stumbled backward, losing her balance. In a cruel twist of fate, she landed on the banister of the bridge, her back against the hard wood, her exposed belly facing the sky.
Reaching the far side of the bridge, Isra turned and crouched as seh unleashed the second kunai. It found its mark in the chest of another pursuer, who fell backwards, screaming in pain, the impact resonating through her mesh clad body. The sudden chaos disrupted the formation of the pursuers, creating a momentary advantage for Isra.
As the third ninja turned her head to witness the fall of her comrades, shock and disbelief momentarily clouded her face. Her distraction proved fatal. Isra seized the opportunity, her final kunai unleashed with lethal precision. The third ninja, still in a state of shock, took the full force of the attack, her body recoiling with the impact.
In the harsh daylight of the courtyard, Karen, emerged silently, catching her adversary off guard. With calculated precision, Karen disarmed the unsuspecting ninja, Chloe, her movements swift and efficient. Gripping Chloe's shoulder with her right arm, Karen pulled her in close.
In her left hand, Karen held a Sai, its glinting blade pointed directly at Chloe's chest. The air tensed with the threat of imminent danger as Karen's gaze bore into her opponent with lethal intent. The courtyard became a silent arena, Chloe panicked, her imminent fate obvious.
Karen growled and, with all the force she could muster, forced the blade into her prey.
In her left hand, Karen held a Sai, its glinting blade pointed directly at Chloe's chest. The air tensed with the threat of imminent danger as Karen's gaze bore into her opponent with lethal intent. The courtyard became a silent arena, Chloe panicked, her imminent fate obvious.
Karen growled and, with all the force she could muster, forced the blade into her prey.
In the harsh light of day, Laura, an unyielding leader, surveyed her army of assassins. Clad in black mesh and red, they bore the visible scars of their callous exploits, a testament to the thousands who had already lost their lives under her command.
Laura's right hand clenched a blood-stained sai by her side, and her left hand crossed her chest, the blade resting on her right shoulder. Her eyes betrayed no emotion, only a relentless hunger for power and control, hardened by the sacrifices made by her expendable forces.
The assassins, mere extensions of their leader's cruelty, mirrored her stance, each holding a pair of sais with a foreboding stillness. Loyalty, rooted in fear and shared malevolence, bound them to a leader who regarded them as disposable pawns, heedless of the countless lives already forfeited in her unyielding quest for supremacy.
As sunlight cast harsh shadows, the day hung heavy with the weight of grim actions and the ghosts of fallen comrades. Laura's thoughts, devoid of empathy, saw her followers as expendable tools in her pursuit of dominance. The sunlit blades reflected an unyielding gleam, highlighting the faces of these emotionless instruments of destruction, as well as the cost paid in the blood of the fallen.
In the heart of this remorseless assembly, Laura pondered her next move, propelled by an unrelenting thirst for power that dismissed any consideration for the lives she manipulated. The day bore witness to a leader whose indifference to expendable lives, numbering in the thousands, plunged the world into despair under the harsh scrutiny of daylight.
Laura's right hand clenched a blood-stained sai by her side, and her left hand crossed her chest, the blade resting on her right shoulder. Her eyes betrayed no emotion, only a relentless hunger for power and control, hardened by the sacrifices made by her expendable forces.
The assassins, mere extensions of their leader's cruelty, mirrored her stance, each holding a pair of sais with a foreboding stillness. Loyalty, rooted in fear and shared malevolence, bound them to a leader who regarded them as disposable pawns, heedless of the countless lives already forfeited in her unyielding quest for supremacy.
As sunlight cast harsh shadows, the day hung heavy with the weight of grim actions and the ghosts of fallen comrades. Laura's thoughts, devoid of empathy, saw her followers as expendable tools in her pursuit of dominance. The sunlit blades reflected an unyielding gleam, highlighting the faces of these emotionless instruments of destruction, as well as the cost paid in the blood of the fallen.
In the heart of this remorseless assembly, Laura pondered her next move, propelled by an unrelenting thirst for power that dismissed any consideration for the lives she manipulated. The day bore witness to a leader whose indifference to expendable lives, numbering in the thousands, plunged the world into despair under the harsh scrutiny of daylight.
Under the searing sun, the trio of red-clad ninjas—Jojo, Karen, and Rose—darted through narrow alleyways, pursued by the ominous, silent horde of black-clad adversaries. The chase unfolded like a macabre dance between shadows and sunlight, each footfall echoing the urgency of their escape.
Arriving at a small courtyard by the river adorned with a weathered statues and red framed doors, a black-clad adversary vaulted over a monument with lethal grace, landing in the midst of the trio. Before Jojo could react, the adversary's Sai struck with unforgiving precision, the blade sinking into Jojo's abdomen. She staggered backward, taken by surprise, falling into her killer's waiting arm and the cruel steel slowly withdrawing, leaving her crumpled on the sunbaked ground. The horde, their mesh fabric outfits billowing, closed in like a relentless storm.
Karen and Rose, the surviving pair, found themselves surrounded by the encroaching black-clad adversaries. As the horde pressed in, their daggers flashed through the air, the blades meeting flesh in a perverse symphony of violence. The bodies of fallen adversaries now littered the once-empty courtyard. The anguished screams of the dying pierced the air, a cacophony of agony that fuelled the surrounded warriors' determination.
Witnesses to Jojo's fall, Karen and Rose knew there was no time to mourn. The horde continued their relentless pursuit, and the surviving pair fought on amid the macabre landscape. The square, now a slaughterhouse of fallen adversaries, bore the weight of their desperate fight for survival, the echoes of screams intertwining with the sickening thud of blades meeting flesh.
Karen's throws became more savage, each dagger finding a mark among the arrayed bodies of their black-clad adversaries. Rose, fueled by grief and fury, fought on, kneeling to retrieve a dagger from the floor then flinging it accurately towards an oncoming ninja. The courtyard, once a quiet and functional trading area, was now a savage arena strewn with the remnants of a fierce struggle waged between red and black-clad warriors.
In the dwindling light, Karen and Rose faced their inevitable demise. The relentless horde closed in, overwhelming the surviving pair. The once-vibrant square bore witness to the brutal end of their escape, the red fading into the relentless black amidst the perverse screams and the fallen bodies that now littered the blood-soaked ground.
Arriving at a small courtyard by the river adorned with a weathered statues and red framed doors, a black-clad adversary vaulted over a monument with lethal grace, landing in the midst of the trio. Before Jojo could react, the adversary's Sai struck with unforgiving precision, the blade sinking into Jojo's abdomen. She staggered backward, taken by surprise, falling into her killer's waiting arm and the cruel steel slowly withdrawing, leaving her crumpled on the sunbaked ground. The horde, their mesh fabric outfits billowing, closed in like a relentless storm.
Karen and Rose, the surviving pair, found themselves surrounded by the encroaching black-clad adversaries. As the horde pressed in, their daggers flashed through the air, the blades meeting flesh in a perverse symphony of violence. The bodies of fallen adversaries now littered the once-empty courtyard. The anguished screams of the dying pierced the air, a cacophony of agony that fuelled the surrounded warriors' determination.
Witnesses to Jojo's fall, Karen and Rose knew there was no time to mourn. The horde continued their relentless pursuit, and the surviving pair fought on amid the macabre landscape. The square, now a slaughterhouse of fallen adversaries, bore the weight of their desperate fight for survival, the echoes of screams intertwining with the sickening thud of blades meeting flesh.
Karen's throws became more savage, each dagger finding a mark among the arrayed bodies of their black-clad adversaries. Rose, fueled by grief and fury, fought on, kneeling to retrieve a dagger from the floor then flinging it accurately towards an oncoming ninja. The courtyard, once a quiet and functional trading area, was now a savage arena strewn with the remnants of a fierce struggle waged between red and black-clad warriors.
In the dwindling light, Karen and Rose faced their inevitable demise. The relentless horde closed in, overwhelming the surviving pair. The once-vibrant square bore witness to the brutal end of their escape, the red fading into the relentless black amidst the perverse screams and the fallen bodies that now littered the blood-soaked ground.
Esther moved through the ancient town with the fluidity of a shadow, her black and red attire a striking contrast to the daylight filtering through the historic buildings. The target lay ahead, oblivious to the impending threat. Twin blades gripped tightly in her hands, she approached with the grace of a dancer, each step calculated to perfection under the sun's watchful gaze.
As she prepared to strike, a flicker of movement behind her caught Esther's attention. An enemy ninja lunged forward, ready to deliver a swift blow. Esther's reflexes kicked in; she pivoted and struck with her right elbow, connecting solidly with the enemy's face. Her would-be killer staggered backward, momentarily stunned by the unexpected counter, her sleek black hair trailing and obscuring her beautiful features.
Seizing the advantage, Esther closed the distance, her black and red silhouette a blur against the ancient backdrop. With a quick, fluid motion, she brought the enemy ninja close using her right arm. In her left hand, the red-tinted blade gleamed as Esther prepared to deliver the decisive blow. The enemy ninja, still recovering from the initial strike, attempted to evade, but Esther's movements were too precise. The blade sliced through the air, finding its mark on her chest. As the ninja crumpled to the ground, Esther released her grip on the blade, leaving it embedded in the fatally wounded foe, the sound of her body hitting the floor was the only sound that broke the silence.
With a fluid motion, Esther knelt beside the fallen ninja, her black-clad form a stark contrast to the red pooling beneath the lifeless body. She studied the still form to ensure the foe was truly vanquished, her senses heightened to any hint of movement. Satisfied that the threat had been neutralized, Esther retrieved her blade with deliberate calmness, the daylight now bearing witness to the aftermath of the deadly encounter.
As she prepared to strike, a flicker of movement behind her caught Esther's attention. An enemy ninja lunged forward, ready to deliver a swift blow. Esther's reflexes kicked in; she pivoted and struck with her right elbow, connecting solidly with the enemy's face. Her would-be killer staggered backward, momentarily stunned by the unexpected counter, her sleek black hair trailing and obscuring her beautiful features.
Seizing the advantage, Esther closed the distance, her black and red silhouette a blur against the ancient backdrop. With a quick, fluid motion, she brought the enemy ninja close using her right arm. In her left hand, the red-tinted blade gleamed as Esther prepared to deliver the decisive blow. The enemy ninja, still recovering from the initial strike, attempted to evade, but Esther's movements were too precise. The blade sliced through the air, finding its mark on her chest. As the ninja crumpled to the ground, Esther released her grip on the blade, leaving it embedded in the fatally wounded foe, the sound of her body hitting the floor was the only sound that broke the silence.
With a fluid motion, Esther knelt beside the fallen ninja, her black-clad form a stark contrast to the red pooling beneath the lifeless body. She studied the still form to ensure the foe was truly vanquished, her senses heightened to any hint of movement. Satisfied that the threat had been neutralized, Esther retrieved her blade with deliberate calmness, the daylight now bearing witness to the aftermath of the deadly encounter.
As I felt Laura's blade enter me, I felt the world shrink to just me, her and her blade. I screamed and started to fall backwards, without even a moment's pause, she turned to find her next victim. In the chaos of the melee, it would not take her long, I fell amongst the bodies of the others that had been slain so far, I saw her raise her sword, covered with my blood, as the world went dark.
In Nitaskinan, the ancestral land of the Atikamekw people, Sâkowêw, also known as "Theresa" by the settlers, stands tall as a defender of her people's heritage. Though the settlers imposed the name Theresa upon her, she carries the weight of her true identity as Sâkowêw, an Atikamekw woman deeply rooted in her culture and connection to the land.
Nitaskinan literally translates as "Our Land", an idea which embedded within the Atikamekw a heart fuelled by the fire of resistance. Sâkowêw embraced the teachings of her ancestors, honouring their wisdom and resilience. It fell to her to confront Millie, the leader of the marauding bandits threatening Nitaskinan, she became a conduit for the strength and resilience of the Atikamekw people.
Adorned in her battle gear, Sâkowêw wielded her bow—a tangible link to her Atikamekw lineage. In this critical moment, as she approached the barn where Millie was waiting for a raiding party to return, she carried only one arrow so as to move more quietly, she only needed one shot on target after all. As she paused at the corner of the barn, she felt the weight on her shoulders as she stood as a symbol of hope and a guardian of her ancestral lands. Millie was alert, her gun drawn, but without a clear idea of where the threat would come from.
With unwavering focus, Sâkowêw readies her bow, her gaze fixed upon Millie. She thought for a moment of her ancestors, their stories and wisdom echoing in her heart. Deciding now was her moment, she rounded the corner and let the arrow fly. In that moment, the fate of Nitaskinan hangs in the balance. The story of her people, their resilience, and their enduring connection to the land unfold in this pivotal moment. Would the arrow find it's target? Would the death of Millie prevent the fall of her people? In that moment, everything was on the table.
Nitaskinan literally translates as "Our Land", an idea which embedded within the Atikamekw a heart fuelled by the fire of resistance. Sâkowêw embraced the teachings of her ancestors, honouring their wisdom and resilience. It fell to her to confront Millie, the leader of the marauding bandits threatening Nitaskinan, she became a conduit for the strength and resilience of the Atikamekw people.
Adorned in her battle gear, Sâkowêw wielded her bow—a tangible link to her Atikamekw lineage. In this critical moment, as she approached the barn where Millie was waiting for a raiding party to return, she carried only one arrow so as to move more quietly, she only needed one shot on target after all. As she paused at the corner of the barn, she felt the weight on her shoulders as she stood as a symbol of hope and a guardian of her ancestral lands. Millie was alert, her gun drawn, but without a clear idea of where the threat would come from.
With unwavering focus, Sâkowêw readies her bow, her gaze fixed upon Millie. She thought for a moment of her ancestors, their stories and wisdom echoing in her heart. Deciding now was her moment, she rounded the corner and let the arrow fly. In that moment, the fate of Nitaskinan hangs in the balance. The story of her people, their resilience, and their enduring connection to the land unfold in this pivotal moment. Would the arrow find it's target? Would the death of Millie prevent the fall of her people? In that moment, everything was on the table.
As the relentless sun scorched the unforgiving streets of Deadwood Gulch, an aura of trepidation gripped the air. Whispers of fear echoed through the windswept alleys as Laura, the notorious matriarch of this lawless enclave, held the entire town under her iron-fisted control. Sheriff Irina, known for her own ruthless tactics, cowered beneath Laura's malevolent gaze, her bravado waning in the presence of such formidable danger.
Leaning nonchalantly against the worn bannister outside the raucous Dusty Spurs Saloon, Laura radiated an aura of untamed power. Her left elbow casually rested on the wooden rail, a symbol of her indomitable authority, while her right hand clutched a gleaming repeating rifle, a constant reminder of her lethal capabilities.
On the bannister before her, a half-empty bottle of whiskey stood as a testament to her disregard for societal norms. The fiery liquid within seemed to tremble, intimidated by the force of Laura's will, as if it knew the wrath that would be unleashed upon any who dared defy her.
The townsfolk, weary and watchful, maneuvered through the dusty thoroughfares, their gazes flickering with a mixture of awe and dread whenever they caught sight of Laura's commanding figure. Deadwood Gulch had become a place where danger prowled with every shadow, and Sheriff Irina's own callousness paled in comparison to the ruthless demeanour of the town's fearsome ruler.
Within this perilous tableau, Deadwood Gulch stood as a testament to Laura's reign of terror. It was a place where lawlessness thrived, and even the hardened Sheriff Irina could not deny the shivers that ran down her spine when confronted by the chilling presence of Laura, leaning against the bannister outside the Dusty Spurs Saloon.
Leaning nonchalantly against the worn bannister outside the raucous Dusty Spurs Saloon, Laura radiated an aura of untamed power. Her left elbow casually rested on the wooden rail, a symbol of her indomitable authority, while her right hand clutched a gleaming repeating rifle, a constant reminder of her lethal capabilities.
On the bannister before her, a half-empty bottle of whiskey stood as a testament to her disregard for societal norms. The fiery liquid within seemed to tremble, intimidated by the force of Laura's will, as if it knew the wrath that would be unleashed upon any who dared defy her.
The townsfolk, weary and watchful, maneuvered through the dusty thoroughfares, their gazes flickering with a mixture of awe and dread whenever they caught sight of Laura's commanding figure. Deadwood Gulch had become a place where danger prowled with every shadow, and Sheriff Irina's own callousness paled in comparison to the ruthless demeanour of the town's fearsome ruler.
Within this perilous tableau, Deadwood Gulch stood as a testament to Laura's reign of terror. It was a place where lawlessness thrived, and even the hardened Sheriff Irina could not deny the shivers that ran down her spine when confronted by the chilling presence of Laura, leaning against the bannister outside the Dusty Spurs Saloon.
Amelia felt Lydia's touch as she quickly dragged her closer, as the blade entered her left breast she realised that this was not a friendly embrace, some naughty on-duty surprise. As the blade exited her, her left hand reached for her killer, finding Lydia's long dark hair, not that she would ever know who killed her, she held on as her sword fell from her hand, slumping into her killer and screaming as the blade was turned.....
It wasn't strictly necessary for the entire guard contingent to fire, Millie was just one cultist, but every guard remembered what the cultists had done to their families. They would not forgive or forget...
Merry Christmas all! If anyone wants to come round and play with my toy box over Christmas, at least bring mulled wine and mince pies 😉
From L-R: Lydia, Esther, Carina, Jojo, Hanna, Barbara, Mara, Iva, Katarina, Laura, Millie, Isra, Mel.
On the floor: Irina, Karen
In my hand: Rose 🥰
From L-R: Lydia, Esther, Carina, Jojo, Hanna, Barbara, Mara, Iva, Katarina, Laura, Millie, Isra, Mel.
On the floor: Irina, Karen
In my hand: Rose 🥰
Isra The Butcher, the legend had returned, the palace guards lay motionless at her feet, their now blood covered bodies pierced by Isra's merciless blade. As I gazed over the sea of familiar but lifeless faces on the floor, I realised it fell to me to defeat her. We fought for hours, the outcome was by no means certain, but in the end I avenged my comrades in arms. Isra gargled as my blade sliced through her throat, she dropped to the floor clutching the would before collapsing onto a heap of palace guards. Legend she may have been, immortal, she was not....
Mara knew there was a bounty on Rose and my heads, it would be hers, come hell or high water....
Looks like Rose finally had enough of my shit 🤣 Only fair, a lady can only excuse so many dad jokes....
Carina had left home to seek her fortune two years ago, and the township of Wolf's River had become her new home. Every day she worked the streets, trying to meet the movers and the shakers, waiting for her moment to strike out on her own again. She missed home, the garden, the flowers, the smells, but even out here in the wilderness, beauty thrived if you knew where to look. Cutting the flowers each morning, she knew that people would flock to her for something beautiful to take home. She was becoming something of a local landmark. Beauty thrives anywhere, or so she told herself. Soon it would be her time to thrive.
The assassin had ripped through the guards in short order, their bodies littered the courtyard. The final guard, a redhead called Mel, froze, her back to a pillar. Expecting death at any moment, she was puzzled by the pause... The blade she could feel travelling over her skin, she froze, fearing giving any reason to slay her. As the assassin traced her blade over Mel's exposed belly, she admired her prey and wondered, was there a way to make this more fun? It would be a shame to waste something so precious....
"Isra The Butcher, she's a story to scare naughty kids, nothing to worry about..." explained Karen as the new guards looked on in awe. Lydia had been regaling them with tales of violent death for hours now, Irina and Barbara were quivering wrecks now, but Hanna just wanted to get some rest...
The next day they would all find out how wrong Karen was....
The next day they would all find out how wrong Karen was....
As the Amazon army charged, Laura screamed with her battle sisters. As they neared the enemy line, the arrows started to land amongst the charging horde. The screams of her falling sisters both terrified and aroused Laura. Would she make it to the enemy and avenge her sisters?
No. A hundred meters later the arrows found her, first to her chest, then her belly. Stumbling backwards, she fell and could see the army continue without her. Lying on the ground, the two arrows proudly pointing towards the sky, she realised she was dying, but the moans and cries of the others dying around her caught her attention, how beautiful and pitiful a sight she and the others must be. As the world started to darken, her thoughts drifted, as did her hands, her last earthly thoughts she might as well enjoy...
No. A hundred meters later the arrows found her, first to her chest, then her belly. Stumbling backwards, she fell and could see the army continue without her. Lying on the ground, the two arrows proudly pointing towards the sky, she realised she was dying, but the moans and cries of the others dying around her caught her attention, how beautiful and pitiful a sight she and the others must be. As the world started to darken, her thoughts drifted, as did her hands, her last earthly thoughts she might as well enjoy...
Irina loved the money this job brought her, the punters... less so. If they tried anything funny she'd see them carried out in a box. Or so she told herself...
The bandits would be back, Millie new it. The homestead may not be grand, but it was hers, and she would risk her life to defend it.
As the pile of chips grew, Laura knew she would walk with them. Her opponent had selected a rare variant of Poker, hoping to throw her with an unfamiliar rule set. But when the stakes were this high, Laura knew she would win, whether fairly or with help from her trusty sharp friend......
After leaving France, Gabe came into money as a successful oil-magnate, owns the railroad, various oil pumps and a huge part of the town. He was a hard working and honest man who came to America to seek his fortune. His life changed when he met the beautiful Jojo, a charming fugitive from the British Crown who was building a new life for herself in the Midwest. They immediately fell in love, Gabe giving Jojo whatever she desired. But desires became demands, and even Gabe's considerable wealth could not keep up. So they hatched a plan, their business dealings became less conventional abd more criminal, if something stood in their way, unorthodox methods were used instead of business negotiations..... Under Jojo's influence, Gabe lost his way, his desire to please his queen only increased. That night, as they sipped drinks on a train to another "negotiation"", she whispered in his ear for him to succeed....and get what his precious Jojo wants....by any means necessary....
Rose and SSR volunteered for the arena to fight for their freedom, they didn't expect that the guards wouldn't let even the victors leave alive. As their arrow pierced bodies lay on the floor, life slipping away, they grasped each other's hand for the final time as the archers laughed.
Didn't mother always tell you that carrots were good for your eyes? Irina certainly agrees, Laura seems less convinced!
It's only a few zombies they said, they're mostly harmless they said.
There are days when you regrets your life choices, there are days when you don't get the opportunity to.
There are days when you regrets your life choices, there are days when you don't get the opportunity to.
"Hur Hur... Even sooper uman nekz snap lik grot toy"
"When you're quite done playing around with your new doll, do you mind giving me a hand with the rest of them? ...and where do you thing you're going missy?" *ZZZZZAAAAAAP*
"When you're quite done playing around with your new doll, do you mind giving me a hand with the rest of them? ...and where do you thing you're going missy?" *ZZZZZAAAAAAP*
