>>2869694
Honorable, determined, compassionate

>>2869694
Hot-blooded, determined, hot-headed

>>2869704
>>2869711

I'll go with

Hot-blooded, determined but compassionate

Honorable, determined, hot-headed

>>2869704
+1

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>>2869694
He gave it all. He taught you to never back down, to stand for those who couldn't protect themselves and that promises were to be respected.

Your foes knew both fear of your might, but also fair play. No man was to be stabbed in the back nor slighted unjustly.

Clenching a metal fist you bring it down onto the concrete floor, a digital wail rattling even the bolted down machinery. Windows crack and shatter before you quiet yourself.

He wouldn't want this. There's still people to protect. Up there. Outside this bunker.

And you can no longer do it from here.

Your grief hangs heavy in your empty chest, your barren cockpit as you stand and turn towards the bunker door. Putting one foot in front of the other you wedge your fingers in its center line, metal bending around them, and wrench it open.

Without power there wasn't any other way to open it. Hundreds of tons of steel groans and screams before separating and you force your way through the path you've made, stepping out into the sunlight for the first time in over a millennia.

You spend a moment to look yourself over. Your pilot chose your paint, but the both of your choose your primary armament.
>Two colors
>One weapon

>>2869745
Dark Blue and silver

Sword

>>2869745
>Yellow & Black

>Sword

>>2869750
+1

>>2869745
Copper and red.
Sword.

>>2869745
>Brass and Red
>Axe

>>2869745
Purple and Silver.
Greataxe.

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>>2869745
Reaching over your shoulder, you close your hand over the hilt of your sword. In times of old it was a weapon of nobility and chivalry and your navy and silver exterior matches this, cutting a heroic figure. Drawing the blade from its sheath part way it glints white and steely in the sun.

You could wield it easily, swinging it about as if it were a feather, but you knew without your pilot you had neither the skill nor precision to use it to down an equal foe.

You take some solace in how unlikely an equal foe is and set it back in its sheath.

>C:\>camera zoom 600

You scan the horizon, well aware of the nearness of a small city that had sprung up in your time below ground. It was small, hardly two hundred years old, but growing steadily. You finally spot it, rows of skyscrapers surrounded by smaller buildings, and a single vast, but only half constructed palace.

The trek over is uneventful. The grass and trees of the land tranquil, though your footsteps surely scare off any wildlife that would be present.

Drawing closer you can see defense around the city. Trenches, guns, the occasional tank. All of them however, are primitive, nearly harmless.

>Move in the open, show you mean no harm
>Stay cautious, keep to the lower ground and out of sight of the guns

>>2869776
>Move in the open, show you mean no harm

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>>2869776
Oh boy
>Move in the open, show you mean no harm

>>2869776
>>Move in the open, show you mean no harm

>>2869776
>Move in the open, show you mean no harm

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>>2869776
You keep to flat, open ground, extending your arms out to your sides, palms up and walk slowly.

You're aware that open displays of peace aren't the most effective when you're a 100 foot tall God-Machine. People panic, turn in terror at that which they don't know or understand, and you can only hope they comprehend your gesture.

You can see tiny figures scattering about along the trenches, manning the guns. Tanks swivel to point their cannons on you, but none fire for now.

Its at this moment that it occurs to you that you can't communicate with them. Not the humans at least.

Your connection with your pilot afforded you something beyond words. An instinctual and mutual drive and understanding kept you in contact. He'd think, and you'd act, often without even truly needing the cockpit's controls.

But actual human speech was not an element of your design. You'd need an intermediary if you wished to talk. An android who can parse the harsh noise you create.

Fortunately, regardless of whether or not you could talk, you can, and likely already have already introduced yourself.

On your left breast, in bold, simple script, is your name.

>A name

>>2869797
>Mercury

>>2869797
Daruman

>>2869797
Durendal

>>2869810
Supporting

>>2869810
Sounds good

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>>2869797
Durendal, a blade which passed into legend so long before your existence that the tales of its owner are now forgotten. He fell, but his blade lived on. A prophetic name.

By now, those who didn't balk at the sight of your approach and flee are manning the guns. You can see the specks loading them, aiming them, but you path them little attention, coming to a stop a few hundred yards from their line.

Somewhere among them a man with a loudspeaker barks at you. You don't see him at first, but your eyes eventually settle on a short man with a handlebar mustache.

"Step out of the God-Machine and put your hands up! We have you outgunned and you cannot run! If you come in peace we can talk when you're out of that thing!"

You look along the line, quietly hoping for an android. While so far you see none, you do your best to speak to one regardless.

>F:\>userconnect probe adr

The noise is garbled and beeping, but is densely packed with handshakes and security credentials. A few troops along the line jump back in surprise and confusion, but you get your answer from somewhere high on the building tops, past the defensive line.

>F:\>Atlana:\>Yes?

>Make a request

>>2869851
I come in peace, put down your weapons, no one will step out of me since no one is piloting me. I would like a proper android to better comunicate

>>2869851
>May I enter? Also cannot step out of my chassis, apologies for inconvenience. Alors?

>>2869851
>Inform the soldiers manning the defenses that there is no pilot to speak to.

>>2869851
>I come in peace, and I seek only two things: knowledge, and purpose. Knowledge, for I have been asleep for a great many years. Purpose, for I have lost my pilot.
>You cannot harm me. The only means you would have would require dishonesty and betrayal. Know that I recognize hostility, and have chosen not to respond in kind.

>>2869861
>>2869870
Both are good

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>>2869855
>F:\>send -I'm adrift, and looking to do you or anyone else here any harm, just for answers and a purpose. There is no pilot, just me, pas plus. You have the faculties to speak for me, and I would be indebted to you if should extends to me this kindness. If not, I can be on my way unharmed regardless of their actions. Alors?

Theres a minute of silence. You can hear the mustachioed man on the ground repeat his demands in the currently distant waking world.

>F:\>Atlana:\>Y

It doesn't take much puzzling out what the android had meant, as an inhumanly loud call comes from the rooftops in a deceptively soft, feminine voice, "Lower your guns, Magnus. There's no fight here. I don't know what this... this is, but its old, and its not here to hurt anyone."

>F:\>camera 2 -send

To convey your honesty you send a brief glimpse of the inside of your cockpit. The sight of it leaves you feeling pained for a moment, and you're quietly glad your face can't show it.

"...And there is no pilot." The voice, first somewhat monotone, slips into a bit of quiet shock.

The short man, Magnus, lifts his megaphone, "Alright, lower 'em! Don't unload them yet until we know what this is."

>F:\>send -What is this place?
>F:\>Atlana:\>Thebes
>F:\>send -Rulership?
>F:\>Atlana:\>By council.

"Listen up, you heap of metal! If I catch you so much as knocking over a pebbl-" You drone him out readily enough for the time being.

>F:\>send -Magnus?
>F:\>Atlana:\>Blowhard. Don't worry about him.

>Questions

>There resides no pilot within my hull. The one designated to fill that role died eons ago. I am incomplete.

>>2869908
can we skip the point by point exposition? I mean, either way I'm signing out until we're done with

>ask question
>get answer
>story does not progress
>rinse and repeat

>What has happened during my absense?

>>2869908
>Requesting permission from council to enter, also I have “muted” Magnus. It’s much quieter now. Next?

>>2869943
this

general update of the situation

ask if there is more like us?


ask if there is a threat present, we woke up for a reason I think.

Try to remember if our pilot had any ritual to be done after his passing, we should ask them to perform it for him

>>2869908
What's the possibility of procuring funerary rights for our pilot? It's a motive they'll understand, and it'd be kinda shitty to just leave him unremarked in a hole in the ground.

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>>2869908

You mull over your thoughts, first thinking to ask what happened while you were away before discarding the thought, a timespan far too long and inconclusive to give you an anchor to live by. You'll be more specific.

>F:\>send -Are there more like me here?
>F:\>Atlana:\>God-Machines? Yes. None walking around without a pilot. Thats not really possible with any I've seen before. Even the most advanced.
>F:\>Atlana:\>You're an anomaly.

You're about to ask about to ask about local history when the android begins to message rapid fire.

>F:\>Atlana:\>But no, we don't have a God-Machine. We've fought them, but they're tools of the Duchy.
>F:\>Atlana:\>They forced us to pay last time.
>F:\>Atlana:\>You could be a game changer.
>F:\>send -Wait.
>F:\>Atlana:\>We won't have to make tribute if you're really this advanced.
>F:\>send -Arretez.

She finally pauses, though you can almost feel her excitement over the connection.

>F:\>send -My pilot is dead. The place I left a grave. If what you really need is protection, I can see what I can do to grant it, but I expect something of you and those who live here.
>F:\>send -He, and those with him, deserve a funeral.

Theres an uncomfortable length of time where she stares at you from the rooftop. You've found her now. An average looking woman. A civilian android with the apparel of a maid.

>F:\>Atlana:\>I'll see about it.
>F:\>send -Bien. And this Duchy?
>F:\>Atlana:\>A group of cities who stayed together after the old war. They have a lot of God-Machines, and use them to extract tribute from anyone they can outgun.

Multiple other God-Machines is a concerning prospect, as it is now. You spend several moments, thinking back to the era of your creation, distant as it is. There was war then, and you fought others like you. But with your pilot.

Coming back to reality to look down. Magnus has apparently failed to contain a crowd of awed onlookers. Some kneel and bow before you, others reach out and touch the steel of your feet. You can feel Atlana's connection slip away as you carefully take your first step, well over the heads of the crowd, down main street and into the heart of Thebes.

By the time you reach the city square the council, or who you assume to be the council, have gathered in front of an elaborate half built palace. One man in the center spreads his arms to the heavens, a mad grin on his face.

"Rejoice, for we have a new savior! Descended from the heavens above, a hero emerges and shall sweep the Duchy with flames!"

The ostentatious proselytization sits poorly with you almost immediately. Swept with your own recent failure to protect your pilot, the failure of your vigil... And you reaffirm your resolve. This must be your new vigil, those adoring faces line the streets to watch you.

Dropping to one knee, you lower to one knee like the knights of old, and bow your head before the council, and stand. You hear countless voices, too many to isolate just one, and cheering.

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>>2870115
Your hearing, starts to pick up an undertone along the way, however. A rumbling drone, and far behind you dull thumps in the distance. You turn and spot a distant speck, growing out of the sky.

Fire bursts seemingly from the ground along the defensive perimiter as it closes before it touches the ground, legs folding out and carving paths through the street, upturning pavement as a figure, still impressive and clad in red and yellow, skids to a halt. The people around your feet scatter into buildings.

"Her Majesty's Royal Duchy demands that the unidentified God-Machine lay down its arms and surrender itself to the might of its forces, or Thebes' protections will be found in forfeit and armaments confiscated or destroye-"

You weren't expecting such an immediate call to arms, nor such an insulting one, but it was already present. The speaker inside the God-Machine cuts himself off and leaps back, jets firing in the front of his chest as you set a hand on your blade.

>Act

>>2870129
What are our movement options?

>>2870129
>Launch ourselves at it and stab the shit outta it

>>2870185
As of this moment, you can run, jump and do most anything a normal person could. Just while being 100 feet tall. You distantly remember a time where could fly, but the dust of ages has clouded your memory, and you'll need to find a pilot to help you remember.

>>2870195
Could we send him a message demanding a duel? Any sort of horn system, or maybe just message his GM?

>>2870214
Messaging his GM is possible, but their actions are largely at the pilot's discretion.

>>2870214
this
we honorabu and would not wish to damage the city that is occupying the lands were our pilot resided.

tell him we will face him outside the city

>>2870232
of course, if he fails to accept or act aggressively we close the distance and stab

We shouldn't let on that we don't have a pilot. That'll get us too much attention from the Duchy.

>>2870295
hmmmm

good point, but I think the cat is out of the bag now, we broadcasted our empty cockpit and if this is a Duchy protectorate they surely have some agents around

>>2870303
Since you'd know this, its actually very hard to understand conversations without being one of the two communicating machines or androids. They work on a call-response code that is established each time they connect, so the question is if they would have heard the Atlana when she was telling Magnus, which is possible.

Its safe to assume the Duchy has agents here though, as they almost immediately knew about you appearing.

>>2870295
>>2870321

then let's not hint about the absence of a pilot

let's try to close in our lead the guy out of the city

>>2870129
You feel anger and distaste rising inside of you. Such an immediate response screams of a totalitarian rule and people being held underneath the thumbs of others.

You fight back the urge to charge and cut them down where they stand and instead try to communicate with the God-Machine, to request it to exit the city and duel outside.

>F:\>userconnect probe deus
>Retrying...
>Reign Justly

Your vision swims for a moment, and you can see through its eyes, and it through yours. Its mind is primitive. Simple. It doesn't so much as agree to the request as submit. You can feel the pilot acquiesce as well after a moment, but also his confusion. He even yanks one of the control sticks only to have it jam for a moment before letting out a sigh and turning about.

You follow them out of the city, hand still on your sword, and staring them down from behind.

"You better know what you're doing," you can hear the pilot mutter through the other God-Machine a moment before it cuts its connection. The two of you cross the defensive line, now minus a few guns, and step into the open field which you had crossed just a few minutes before.

"The Duchy demands subordination. You shall lose, whoever you are, be stripped of rank, title, and machine and be cast to the dogs."

There's no answer you'd ever be able to manage. Your pilot would probably fire back if he were here. 'If I lose,' or perhaps 'You and what Duchy?'

The God-Machine across from you begins to circle, and you step to do the same. It bears no name, but a royal crest on its right shoulder. You fire off a query for its name, and that of its pilot.

>F:\>deus:\> Primo and Alexander Campton.

A quick assessment of your onboard remote diagnostics describe a short list of weapons matching your database.

On his right and left shoulders are small, rapid fire cannon. Its damage would be negligible for each individual round, but standing in front of it for an extended period could prove troubling.

On either hip is a rocket pod with four tubes each. Only have the tubes are filled, and its probably what he fired at the defensive line. Potential damage is inconclusive.

>How do you approach the fight?

Close the distance and disable the shoulders guns before he can fire

>>2870351
Stay in close enough that his rockets would be too dangerous to use. Stay agile and mobile to avoid being shredded by his gun. Disable but do not destroy the robot.

>>2870376
this, reduce the distant quickly, grab a large rock and try to block an eventual missile throwing it at it

>>2870380
Sounds good>>2870376
They all work together

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>>2870351

The two of you continue to circle, impassive metal faces staring each other, seeing who blinks first. Primo is the first to move, twitching forwards and raising a fist.

You kick off the ground suddenly and shift your weight with deceptive speed. Rather than drawing your sword the entire sheath opens along its center line, allowing it to swing out unhindered in an arc.

Primo is already a step ahead of you, the jets in its chest firing once more, launching it back just out of reach of your blade and opening up with both guns. A few warnings flash in your head about impacts but you have no time for them.

Scooping a handful of earth as you run towards him you anticipate the missile launch, winding back and whipping a small hill at him.

It doesn't strike him, but the barrage of soil masks your surge forwards, barreling through the gunfire as you take your sword in both hands and bring it down in an overhead slash. The blade screams, cracks, and then roars through the air, piercing the sound barrier.

He isn't there when your blow falls, another 20 feet past and escaping the reach of the blade, but not the crashing shockwave, buffeting him off his stable flight path and leaving Primo tumbling across the ground. He recovers quicker than you can get on top of him, taking to the air, now looking much more wary.

>>2870451
retreat and make him come after us, when we find a place we can use to help us jump change directions suddenly and try to surprise him by attacking him in the air

>>2870451
Hit him with a barrage of shockwaves to knock him to the ground

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>>2870451
You opt to fall back away from him, back peddling and keeping your blade raised and in guard. He follows just above, pelting with a steady stream of ammunition which rattle and pock mark your thick plating.

You don't really need to check of your shoulder for the next step, each one flattening ground for a solid purchase each time.

Just as its beginning to be uncomfortable under the spray of fire he fires his frontal boosters once again and touches down.

You're confused at first why he'd give up such an advantage, but running the assessment once again you find that hes actually lighter than a moment ago. He's using primitive fuel.

You barrel forwards again, and he takes to the sky, this time pulling right to avoid your overhead, but now you have a plan. Just as he opens fire you immediately back peddle, feigning worry over his firepower and he starts to drop from the air to conserve fuel.

Your sword is already halfway through an overhead by the time he touches down, and hes closer this time.

Hes tossed to the ground and tries to compensate, jets firing a fraction of a moment too late as you grab his leg and lever your heavier mass, tossing him overhead back into the ground using yourself as a fulcrum for the levering force of his jets.

Primo doesn't just bury itself, it does so and then bounces, coming to a partly crumpled rest while its jets misfire and then cause some sort of safety cut off.

Pinging the God-Machine you find that the pilot inside is unconscious but alive and stable. The thinner plating of Primo, however, was shredded by the sudden change in direction and G-forces.

>Now may be a good time to query the other God-Machine
>Drag your prize back into the city to have Alexander removed from the cockpit
>Other

>>2870578
>Now may be a good time to query the other God-Machine

>>2870578
>Now may be a good time to query the other God-Machine

>>2870578
>>Now may be a good time to query the other God-Machine

>>2870578
>Now may be a good time to query the other God-Machine

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>>2870578

>F:\>userconnect probe deus
>Reign Justly

You reestablish a full connection with the God-Machine to find its mind in disarray, panicked even. From what you can assess, you can't blame it either.

Alarms were going off inside the cockpit and all sorts of warnings and armor breach notifications were going off. It has literally torn its light frame apart trying to escape from your hold.

Its architecture is simple enough that with its mind distracted by stopping fire and discarding warnings, you can actually roam freely in its thoughts. Without hesitation to begin to sift through his mind. Its almost automatic and without intent.

The first thing you search for is the Duchy, and there is a wealth of information. It seems most of the internal politics was more the privy of the pilot, but there is a long list of God-Machines under the Duchy's influence and command which you neatly tuck away for later review.

It seems the Duchy itself was run by a single, utterly ancient woman. Two hundred years old at least. You can find images of her, and from her youthful appearance and age, she may well be an android. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long red dress. Tall. Slender.

You hurry, trying to grasp more information as you feel Primo become aware of your presence in its mind. God-Machine pilots in the Duchy are all nobility. The Duchy consists of four main cities and countless tributaries. Alexander oversaw Thebes as a tributary but lived-

You're cut off by Primo who lets out a real world shriek at your violation, body convulsing on the ground brokenly.

You shake your head a bit, clearing your mind which seems to have run away from you and recenter yourself.

>F:\>send -J'regrette.

It gradually ceases its struggling and quietly retreats into its own sorrows. Its not even like a child, its something lower. Animalistic and with very basic emotion. Simpler than any God-Machine in your memory.

You genuinely feel sorry for it.

By now vehicles from the city have made their way over. Tanks, halftracks, an elaborate recovery crew with specialized tools bigger than the people using them.

Among them a familiar voice makes contact with you.

>F:\>guest Altana acceptprobe-Y/N?

>>2870691
Y

>>2870691
Y

>>2870691
Y

hi


damn, I feel sorry for Primo

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>>2870691
You allow the androids outreach, cutting your connection with Primo. The quieter, less intense communication of an android soothing after the incidental probing of the God-Machine's mind. You even take a moment to begin to parse the information into something less foreboding and uncomfortable, burying the prompt in your mind and synthesizing her voice for yourself in something simultaneously more human and less intrusive.

"That was awesome. I've never seen something like that. I've seen the Duchy fight tanks and guns, I even saw one of them lose once, but I've never seen a member of the nobility actually get beaten that easily."

You feel the need to slow her down again. Shes bogging you down with the amount of rapid fire messages, "Slow."

"Sorry. Its just that this is big."

"There will be more." You both spend a moment in silence, watching the work at opening Primo's cockpit. The God-Machine wasn't resisting, but the rents in its armor made the mechanisms malfunction. Alexander would have to be cut out as night fell.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FiMqZmNHU1I

"You really didn't have to do that." She eventually added.

You turn your head and pick her out of the crowd, the maid of an android staring up at you with a faint smile.

"Its my duty to protect those who cannot do so themselves. But this is just a beginning." And as you start to look through the different Duchy God-Machines and pilots that you'd drawn from Primo's mind you feel a growing emptiness. The satisfaction of defending the city was short lived with no one to properly share it with. You even briefly attempt the more elaborate pilot communication with Atlana, but she lacks the ability to return any handshake for it.

If she noticed though, she didn't let on, "I've already put a request in for the council to look into burying your pilot. It'll sort of be equal parts expedition and recovery though. I don't mean it to seem disrespectful, I just don't think they'd go for it otherwise."

"Fine, fine."

There's a few members of the recovery crew now who are trying to access your cockpit, being lead by Magnus. They've backed up a truck with a special connector in front of you and are arguing over the logistics of how to use it with Primo's leg in the way.

You squat down and use a hand to turn it around to face the other way, head turned pointedly towards Magnus who shouts something inaudible in protest.

"Tell the council I will need a pilot," you add with finality to Atlana before cutting the link, standing, and walking your way back to the city square where you stand through the night. For a short while you observe the frequent visitors before eventually tuning everything out and allowing yourself to rest.

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>>2870887
In your dreams something slips forwards, back into your mind of your past. You're struggling desperately against an unnamed foe. As tall as you are, and foreign. Made of steel and flesh, but lacking the human connection that made you and your pilot something beyond either.

It grasps onto you, trying to rend your chest apart. You bring your sword down, only to have it batted away by some unseen appendage. In desperation your pilot steps on a pedal...

>...pulsing a wave of electricity over your surface, sending it into convulsions.
>...causing your chest to open and hellfire to pour out, melting through its hide.
>...allowing you impossible strength, with which you lift and crush the beast.

First armament expansion time. Since this is the first proper thread, I'm going to pause here and firstly say hello and thanks to everyone playing, I hope you are having and then do some Q&A to help unpack the setting a bit.

>>2870946
Having fun, even. No one said quest runners were competent.

>>2870946
>...pulsing a wave of electricity over your surface, sending it into convulsions

>>2870946
>...causing your chest to open and hellfire to pour out, melting through its hide.

Ile the little maid bot, keep her around to keep us company and serve as a translator of sorts

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>>2870946
>...causing your chest to open and hellfire to pour out, melting through its hide.

>>2870946
>...causing your chest to open and hellfire to pour out, melting through its hide.

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>>2870946
Your chest plate splits in half and with grim satisfaction you let the horrendous thing have it. The crackle of evaporating fleshes mixes with the popping of rebar heating white hot and then pulling apart in the receding flesh.

As the monstrosity reels back you and your pilot as one raise your sword high over head and bring it down, splitting it in half. One side falls backwards while the other remains balanced on a mechanical leg. Unnatural dark green blood pours from the sloughing flesh before you reach with your left hand and push it lifelessly over.

Your pilot laughs with manic relief and leans back in his seat for a moment, "Too close..."

You let out a metaphorical sigh even as you rest idle in the square. The nostalgia is strong with this resurgent memory, the feeling of completion and companionship in the face of danger. But its time is now past, and you have a future to strive for, a new pilot to find...

And a city to protect.
Thanks for running folks. This is a quest I intend to run the first Saturday of every month from this point on. If you happened to have been around for the test run where I was sorting things out, as a heads up this is set 20 years after the Fall of Deus which was the test thread that I didn't get to complete. Since then Avalon has fragmented back into city-states and minor nations. If not, whoops, I never archived it because its largely irrelevant to this.

>Our hero Durendal searches for a new pilot while the city of Thebes begins work to support their new savior. Will Durendal find a pilot in time to prevent another attack? What will become of Alexander and Primo? Do android maids dream of electric maid sheep? Tune in and find out next time on Lo, Our Iron Gods!

>>2871298
Thank you for running.

>>2871298
thanks for running man, android maido will be waifu and will present serious anatomic challenges for the mc kek

>>2871298
Thanks for running, Parrot!

>>2871298
>Thanks for running folks.

Thanks for playing, I mean. Should have settled in with a coffee instead of an IPA.

The is has been sick.

>>2871298
The Big O art got my interested, read the thread, and seems fun, OP. I'll look forward to next month.

So far I'm liking Alexander and Primo. Feel bad for our fellow God-Machine being of such a weaker make than ourselves. They are our closest kind, yet they are so inherently... off. Though I suspect this is because Alex is probably a lesser noble, got one of the dinkier tributaries and a lesser God-Machine.
He's a bit rough around the edges, mostly due to his upbringing as a royal snob, but I'd be interested to parse with Alexander and even see if he's valid as a pilot. Get him acquainted with the people of the tributary. Even if he can't be a pilot, a fellow friend and wingman would always help.

>>2872729
Alexander is an antagonist. Fuck him. He be guilty.