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Mordoth Timire

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Joined: 08 Jul 2016
Posts: 16

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re: Claws of Metal: Loss of a Metal Soldier


Loss of a Metal Soldier: A short story

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Lord Langstrom struggled against his bindings, the metal plates of his now dented and broken armour scraping together as he did. The Death Knight Arnsburg had taken out his left eye, hiding his view of the metal tubing that was forcing Synphum's elixir into his veins. He could also feel his unmoving right leg. That night elf's roots had badly dented the armour, cutting off the blood supply to his lower leg and foot. It was a miracle that he had escaped... or the stupidity of the other elf... the posh one. Langstrom growled in pain and anger. Just the day before, he had utterly defeated another group. And now, these pathetic Wardens had not only caused him to sacrifice his armour, not only horribly maimed him but, caused him to lose his sister. Langstrom roared and struggled against his restraints, wanting to rip apart the nearest living thing, just like he'd been taught. Looking up through his good eye, Langstrom stared at the elf examining him. Synpum's personal mage and illusionist. Neither Langstrom nor the Illusionist had ever met and Langstrom wondered why they were meeting now, after such a defeat.

A voice drifted from Langstrom's left, the speaker hidden due to the worgen's new blindness. "We found her body, my child" Synphum's characteristic Lordaeron accent allowed Langstrom to distinguish him easily, no matter the illusion he was wearing.


"She had an arrow in the base of her neck, paralysing her, before she fell from the world tree" Langstrom roared in rage at the news. "That elven archer...on the wolf hawk. She did this!" Langstrom could see her face in his mind, the weakling, the she-elf who had killed his sister. Langstrom struggled against his restraints again, forgetting the fact that he couldn't walk, that he could barely fight.

"Calm down, my child. Remember that rage. You will have your revenge in time. Meanwhile, I have a gift for you."

"A gift, master?"

Synphum stepped into view, disguised as a human, and wearing his surgical gloves, cleaned after the operation the previous night. He smiled, not warmly, but as if he was envisioning something. Langstrom had gotten used to that smile. He had the same smile whenever he'd... improve them. From the psychological reconstruction, to the physical training, to the grafting of the claws, and even the fitting of the armour that Langstrom was wearing.

He moved to the side, allowing two worgen to wheel in a new suit of armour. Langstrom stared at it in surprise. It was very different to what he was used to. It still had defensive runes, but... there was a large mana crystal set in the chest, surrounded by what looked like a metal rib cage. To power the runes maybe? His previous set had never needed a power source. Then he spotted something else. The whole thing looked more... mechanical? Gnomish gears, pistons and other technology could be seen through the openings, and along the legs and arms. Something nagged at him as he stared. What was it... the legs were too sm-

"The legs and body. Will they fit me?"

"Of course, however, you will have to make some... sacrifices if you wish to get your revenge." Synpum looked down at Langtrom's injured and bloodless leg. Synphum then glanced up at his Illusionist. "Igoren, you're going to have to teach him how to harness the suit." Igoren nodded once.

Synphum moved out of Langstrom's vision, then said a simple word: "Open." Langstrom opened his mouth, allowing Synpum to place a wooden block between Langstrom's jaws, to stop Langstrom from biting off his own tongue. The wooden block had many teeth marks on it, from all the Worgen who had undergone operation. Langstrom heard Synphum tidying his surgical equipment, then Synphum moved into view to pull the metal transfusion tube from Langstrom's arm, and hand the used elixir vials to Igoran. He moved back out of view, and Langstrom heard him slide the surgical saw from it's place on the shelf.

"In a few hours, you'll have the strength you need. I spared no expense on this, I assure you."

Langstrom nodded, preparing for what was to come.




HK-47: "Query: Can I kill him now, master? I would like ever so much to crush his neck, just a little. It is a long-time fantasy of mine."

Revan: "Maybe later."

HK-47: "You hear that, meatbag? I will be back!"


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