《Retribution Engine/Sturmblitz Kunst [Ultraviolent Martial Arts Progression Fantasy]》119 - Merchant of Menace
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Under the cover of near-darkness they continued to travel, reaching the counterintuitively named rallying point Delta a short while after sunrise. They were met with a well-established campsite concealed behind three different layers of perception barrier, effectively imperceptible from the outside. In fact, they wouldn’t have found it had their contact not peeked out of the bubble and grabbed their attention with some sort of voice-throwing spell.
“Hey. Hey, over here! To your right!” a voice whispered in his ear. Sodan whipped around, seeing a flamboyant-looking Kargarian man’s upper torso, leaning out of a bubble of shimmering air. He did a beckoning gesture and vanished into the bubble.
Exchanging looks, the two decided that this was probably rally-point delta, approaching the bubble and stepping into it. There were three rapid pulses of mild pins-and-needles, betraying the fact it was a three-layered perception barrier.
A good half of the shielded area was taken up by what Sodan presumed to be the merchant’s vehicle, a curiously antique vessel for the cargo it carried. Not just antique, but truly, veritably ancient - a working Ankhezian hovercraft, even if it looked to be more replacement parts than original at this point. These particular ones were known to be analogous to Ikesian troop transports, but instead of troops, they used to transport war golems, of all size classes barring the heaviest ones. It was no wonder it would be optimal for transporting tanks and armaments, the cargo compartment on the damn thing was big enough to fit some of the smaller full-size tanks, let alone a tank suit.
The interior of the barrier’s perimeter told Alcerys all she needed to know about its nature - a circle drawn on the ground with silver chalk, a cylindrical generator with a runestone, and a number of talismans hanging on a string suspended from metal poles stuck into the ground.
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Sodan’s attention seemed fixed on the merchant and his goods, and it was no wonder. She found her own attention being inexorably drawn to the Kargarian’s magnetic demeanor just as much as his wares, which he presented right out of the modified transport bay of an Ankhezian Golemhauler. It was one of the most widespread and thus commonly salvaged vehicles of its era, with repairable units still being dug up all over the place quite regularly. They were unremarkable enough to be a viable alternative to more modern counterparts, with their own distinct up and downsides. Anyone with particular arcane proclivities would likely prefer this over a tracked cargo tractor.
This one’s transport bay had been refurbished to suit the transport of modern armaments and armor, the walls lined with hunched-over humanoid suits of overly bulky plate armor on support frames, while free space was taken up by gun racks and a variety of ammo boxes. Beyond being visibly mechanical, the armors were stylistically a blend of continental plate with Kargarian flare, resulting in functional armor with a small number of highly effective flourishes - stamped patterns on the plates and small variances between helmet faceplates most notable among them.
Their armor varied in terms of colour, with four variants - plain treated steel, sand brown, some sort of splotchy forest camouflage, and a near-black matte finish, with each color scheme also having its own unique stamped-in patterns and helmet design. Out of these unique designs, two stood out - the plain suits were truly featureless, to the point of conspicuousness, whereas the dark matte ones were an ominous opposite. They struck military silhouettes even hunched-over like that, with their helmets shaped to resemble the visage of a soldier in a pot helmet and a gas mask, even having two eye holes with separate lenses instead of a single slit. Their pauldrons, knee, and elbow guards were rectangular rather than round, and their leg armor closely resembled the armored boots commonly worn by Ikesian squad captains.
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In short, these dark tank suits were overtly designed to evoke an angrier version of the Ikesian military aesthetic, to an almost tasteless, pandering degree. Alcerys was absolutely certain they would be highly popular among angry Ikesians.
Her inquisitorial side couldn’t help but ask: “I’m curious, why do Kargarians have more ready access to clearly Ikesian technology than Ikesians?”
“Largely because the so-called Allied Powers went out of their way to destroy or confiscate any and all Ikesian essentech beyond their own means that they could find. Fortunately, the syphilitic cock of statism is too impotent to fuck Kargaria,” the merchant replied with venomous disdain as he strode into his mobile storefront, but that disdain was not directed at Alcerys. If anything, it seemed like he expected her to sympathize. He wasn’t wrong.
Reaching the back of the bay, he grabbed a pair of weird guns with levers “All of these are already paid for, so take your pick of one suit, one melee weapon, and one gun. The guns come with a fixed amount of free ammunition, each suit comes with two charged cells. If you want more… Sorry, tough luck. All my commercial stock is already reserved.”
Strake eagerly took to inspecting the different suits whilst muttering to himself about tin cans, and Alcerys too felt the need to take a look. She knew that he was some sort of legendary tankman, but these…
“...These don’t look like tank suits.”
“I’m not surprised by your unfamiliarity with Second-models. They’re certainly not the high-performance mechanical beasts one might imagine when the phrase “Tank Suit” is spoken, but I assure you that they are more than capable of pulling their own weight,” reassured the merchant. “Think of them as mechanically-enhanced personal armour - what I personally believe be the initial concept of the Tankman Project brought to life.”
“You’re not wrong, but quit with that fuckin’ sales pitch shit,” Strake grumbled back, audibly irritated. She could tell that every fibre in his being wanted to correct the misinformation the merchant spewed. “Tin cans are tin cans, there’s not an honest man’s chance in the Divine Capital that these can match a proper tank suit.”
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