Hello, readers. I usually dabble on the visual side of artistry (http://forums.spiralknights.com/en/node/23089), but it just so happens to be National Novel Writing Month at the moment, so I'm dabbling into the verbal side of art. I don't intend to do a full 50k word novel of fanfic (I'm trying to do a couple of shorter stories rather than one big one as long plots are hard and getting the writing done at all is enough challenge for me), but I do intend to squeeze as many words out of it as I can, as it apparently is easier for me to write than stories of my own creations. So, err, might as well toss it here in bits.
Do note that Inco isn't me, he is my character and has a personality that doesn't quite match mine. I dunno if that's worth noting, but hey. :P Also note that I'm not doing any proof reading as that would waste precious writing/procrastination time, so if there's any mess-ups, well. Okay.
So anyway.
The Descent
Another time, another place in another world, on a planet known as Cradle, a distraction walks towards the brassy instrument panels of an elevator with a screen in front of it identifying it as the "Iron Lion" entrance to the world below. He is clad in a black, armoured coat lined with fur and adorned with a bandolier of small carved pumpkins, treated to last so their little, gleefully glowing faces may never rot away. His round face and large, orange eyes look out from under a dark grey hood, decorated with orange stars on either side. At his feet a pattern of flames light up similarly to the faces of the pumpkins and his eyes, a supernatural flame in his dress keeping him safe from both chills and burns on his adventures.
He is informally known as Incoherrant (or even more informally, 'Inco'), a name he has carried for a long time now. Most of the people who knows of him make assumptions that it might be a nickname he received for his speech impediment, or for the oddly constructed sentences he sometimes shout out in the middle of a mission. Inco has never explained it himself.
As he fiddles with the instrument panel, little icons flash past on a a screen. The screen flickers for a moment as arrows and numbers appear and are hastily read before he presses one of the heavy buttons again so different images pop up. He stands there for a while, scrutinising the symbols and trying to recall the multitude of meanings encoded in them.
They are mostly red, brown and dark green squares with a few pale, blueish grey ones among them. Nearly all of them have steel grey symbols etched across the coloured square, pawns, cogwheels, shields. A few red squares have peach coloured tower symbols instead, spicing up the interface momentarily. He scrolls down further, finding then ones he has been looking for. At depth fifteen of the Clockworks, below so many deathtrap filled layers above it, the metallic imprint of a stylised paw on a teal square indicates the start of the area he seeks.
Incoherrant had been down there before, with many different allies. This time he would venture alone, taking another stab at the seemingly endless robotic army being constructed in that place, another shot at wrecking the facility beyond repair. Going alone held no actual advantages, but the knights that the captain of his order had sent down with him lately had been more of a burden than a help; he would like to take his time to get a better idea of how to properly wreck the dangerous factory.
He walked away from the lift, leaving the instrument panel and screen to reset to default. Talking to his superiors might mean he could hitch a ride past some of the fourteen layers of critter infested areas seemingly set up to kill his kind; he would like to be able to do this. Powering the lifts took a lot of energy and he might need it later; overriding many a level would be much more efficient, even if it only meant someone else had spent their own stored power to get there.
Luck was with him. A fellow knight had just gotten through to depth thirteen unscathed, the perfect place for him to join in. He got the override code from his captain and headed back towards the elevator gate, stopping briefly by the armoury to pick up his weaponry and a fitting shield beforehand.
His swords, one a heavy, double-edged blade, had technology similar to that of a cooling chamber's integrated with the guard in such a way that a short energy charge could flash-freeze hostile creatures, hampering their movement greatly. The sharp, blackened edges dealt fine damage as well, although the thick fur of some beasts seemed to be too much to cut through with it. He had other, more stabby, weapons to deal with such creatures, but he did not expect to encounter any in the factory. The other sword was a much lighter blade with two bright purple stripes glowing ominously about two thirds of the way out from the hilt to the tip. This ominous feel was well deserved, for it was a sword of a shadowy nature, able to strike with vicious explosions of negative energy when used right.
Inco sheathed both swords, one at his hip and one on his back. He looked at his collection of shields briefly before settling on the glowing one that resembled the face of an owl. It was a silvery kite shield with stylised, gilded wings at the sides and an internal, sunny glow radiating out of it. The shield carried several cracks from old battles, but none of them were worrisome; it was still a strong shield and one of his favourites.
Once the fully equipped knight reached the elevator, he wasted no time in tapping the right key combination to reach his ally. As he activated the large, blue button with the downwards pointing arrow, the brass coloured mechanics whirred to life. With a rattle and a couple of clanks somewhere in distant machinery, it sank him down towards his goal.
Incoherrant held on to the rail as the old lift took him past many levels of the diverse inner world of Cradle; he barely caught glimpses of looming creatures, mechanic and feral, some even unnaturally brought back from the dead. Several gremlins, small, red-furred creatures with long ears and an affinity for tinkering, appeared to be working on the construction of a level he could see in the distance. Some gremlins had allied themselves with the knights, but most still happily built more and more death traps for them. Why they did not just wreck the elevators was a mystery.
Oooooooo. Very nice. Quite descriptively dramatic.