Looming, one hundred feet high and thousands of square feet, the Leviathan Megalith class siege headquarters are only mobilized in instances of total war. Manned by hundreds of crew members, it’s enormous cannons and laser batteries being replaced by tremendous ballistae and trebuchet does little to comfort those standing in it’s massive shadow as it crests the hill of a battlefield.
The tremendous nuclear power plant housed within roars to life, spewing hot flue gasses from the exhaust ports. As the turbines spool up their high pitched screams do little to mask the noise of the hulking mass itself, as it begins to move. The steel laced plascrete bricks that make up the towering walls and imposing parapets thunderously groan as the ancient treads break free from the grasp of hundreds of years of rust. Slow but unstoppable, it lumbers forward toward war.
Weeks later, at the foot of it’s prey, a force gathers to try and halt it’s advance. Massacred by hundreds of javelin sized bolts fired from it’s multi-balista, the survivors are engulfed in a six hundred foot gout of flame that erupts from the primary armament mounted to the front of the Leviathan. Formerly a 72" artillery cannon, it now houses massive stores of liquid fuel, super-pressurized by dozens of scribes powering it’s bellows. It laughs in the face of the pacts guidelines, bringing new meaning to the legislatures words on projectiles “fired by the hands of men”.
As the Leviathan reaches the fort it is besieging, a sixty foot ballista fires a spear into the drawbridge, and the leviathan’s operators shift the gargantuan machine into a retreat, pulling the drawbridge and part of the Fort’s reinforced forward wall to the ground. The Leviathans formidable garrison pours into the fort, unabated, and razes the enemies hold.
Few have seen a Leviathan in motion, but all know, that their lumbering gait leaves only death and destruction in its massive wake.