It was a dark smokey room. The occupants in the rooms sat with hoods on their heads, around a scarred table. Only one wasn’t wearing a hood, and he was wearing a cowboy hat on his head, and trench coat. They sat crouched over the table. One of the taller figures seemed to be the leader, and the others watched carefully.
The tallest sat talking in whispers. The others were leaning in close to listen. Maps had been looked over, and were spread out across the table.
“This leads to only one last question, my friends. Can I trust you?”
“My people will support you.” growled one of the cloaked figures. “We have not forgotten what they have done to us.” It was one of the bigger people at the table. It slammed a large green scarred hand on the table.
One of the smallest figures spoke next, with a deep gravelly accent. “I do not enjoy all of those seated. I do not believe with everything you have said. But, as it has been said, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. We will support you.” It slammed a thick large hand on the table, wearing many rings.
A third figure spoke. It was a cool, calm voice. “I can’t claim to speak for all my kin, the way you two can, but only the kings seem to reap our gains. I don’t know who will support us, but I suspect most will. I’m in.” A rough, hand, that of a worker slammed on the table, callused and scarred, perhaps from years at a anvil.
The forth figure spoke, in a scratchy voice. “Long have my brothers and sisters been burned at the stake, slaughtered, and abused. We save those we can, but while they think we are evil incarnate, my kind will be slaughtered.” A thin spindly hand slammed on the table, with long dirty fingernails, and veins visible. “My siblings will join you.”
The fifth figure spoke. They were hunched over, eyes glowing in the hood. Their voice was snarling, yet smooth. “They created us, and they throught us out. They betrayed us, and called us evil. We were no ones pets, but they treated us as such.” A clawed furry paw slamed into the table, with yellow talon's. A pair of canine eyes blinked in the light, and some of the others flinched. “They will die.”
The first figure smiled. “I speak for no one but perhaps myself. And that is enough.” A hand was placed on the table. It was scarred, but tough. No rings, no jewlery, nothing except for a single tattoo adorned it, that of a gear.
There was a mummer. And then the first voice spoke again, a different tone. Now it was tinged with hate and malice, the bitter poison of carefully nursed grudge.
“We will destroy this city. They think we are but nightmares and illusions, and treat us as so. They kill us, genocide on a unimaginable scale. They kill us for what we were born. They kill us for what we make. They kill us when we speak. They slaughter our families, leave our children fatherless, rape our wives.”
“They are cowards. They are afraid, taking us on one by one. They show there strength in this, but its a farce.”
“Tomorrow when they fall asleep, the nightmare becomes real. Their houses will burn, their lands will be torched. They will fight. But this time they will fall.”
“They will fall to your clubs. They will fall to the sentient war machines. They will be slaughtered by the mobs pitchforks, and your blasts of fire. They will fall to your claws and fangs.”
“This age of tyranny, gluttony, and narcissism will fall. It will be crushed by a thousand angry fists, furious voices, and bloody anger.”
“Tomorrow, we take what they would not give us. Our freedom. Our inventions, our right to live as sentient beings. Our own choices, our right to walk without being burnt at the stake, without being slaughtered like a cow.”
“So will end the so-called Age of Light, crushed by the Age of Steel.”
“There is much to do my friends. Tomorrow....” The speaker paused, and then spitting the words like bones in meat, spoke. “We. Take. It. All.”
“This leads to only one last question, my friends. Can I trust you?”
“My people will support you.” growled one of the cloaked figures. “We have not forgotten what they have done to us.” It was one of the bigger people at the table. It slammed a large green scarred hand on the table.
One of the smallest figures spoke next, with a deep gravelly accent. “I do not enjoy all of those seated. I do not believe with everything you have said. But, as it has been said, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. We will support you.” It slammed a thick large hand on the table, wearing many rings.
A third figure spoke. It was a cool, calm voice. “I can’t claim to speak for all my kin, the way you two can, but only the kings seem to reap our gains. I don’t know who will support us, but I suspect most will. I’m in.” A rough, hand, that of a worker slammed on the table, callused and scarred, perhaps from years at a anvil.
The forth figure spoke, in a scratchy voice. “Long have my brothers and sisters been burned at the stake, slaughtered, and abused. We save those we can, but while they think we are evil incarnate, my kind will be slaughtered.” A thin spindly hand slammed on the table, with long dirty fingernails, and veins visible. “My siblings will join you.”
The fifth figure spoke. They were hunched over, eyes glowing in the hood. Their voice was snarling, yet smooth. “They created us, and they throught us out. They betrayed us, and called us evil. We were no ones pets, but they treated us as such.” A clawed furry paw slamed into the table, with yellow talon's. A pair of canine eyes blinked in the light, and some of the others flinched. “They will die.”
The first figure smiled. “I speak for no one but perhaps myself. And that is enough.” A hand was placed on the table. It was scarred, but tough. No rings, no jewlery, nothing except for a single tattoo adorned it, that of a gear.
There was a mummer. And then the first voice spoke again, a different tone. Now it was tinged with hate and malice, the bitter poison of carefully nursed grudge.
“We will destroy this city. They think we are but nightmares and illusions, and treat us as so. They kill us, genocide on a unimaginable scale. They kill us for what we were born. They kill us for what we make. They kill us when we speak. They slaughter our families, leave our children fatherless, rape our wives.”
“They are cowards. They are afraid, taking us on one by one. They show there strength in this, but its a farce.”
“Tomorrow when they fall asleep, the nightmare becomes real. Their houses will burn, their lands will be torched. They will fight. But this time they will fall.”
“They will fall to your clubs. They will fall to the sentient war machines. They will be slaughtered by the mobs pitchforks, and your blasts of fire. They will fall to your claws and fangs.”
“This age of tyranny, gluttony, and narcissism will fall. It will be crushed by a thousand angry fists, furious voices, and bloody anger.”
“Tomorrow, we take what they would not give us. Our freedom. Our inventions, our right to live as sentient beings. Our own choices, our right to walk without being burnt at the stake, without being slaughtered like a cow.”
“So will end the so-called Age of Light, crushed by the Age of Steel.”
“There is much to do my friends. Tomorrow....” The speaker paused, and then spitting the words like bones in meat, spoke. “We. Take. It. All.”
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