From: catshakira@aol.com (CatShakira)
Date: 22 Oct 2003 23:40:50 EDT
The time has finally come. The challenge is upon her, and all she has left to do is seal her alliance with Anubis--and she has the perfect present for him. Yes, better to do it now. Besides, she saw that meddler Xenograg talking with Pslyder; who knows what the sorcerer blabbed about.
Lily was getting curious and asking too many questions. That was fixed quickly, though, and the point made. Shakira also increased Lily's chores and lessons so she won't have any time to spend with the prisoner. Shakira thought to test her by allowing her contact with this human. Lily is still too young and has too much to learn before she can be fully trusted. Shakira will talk to Anubis about his present. Everything is working out the way it is supposed to be.
She finishes the note she is writing to Anubis, seals it, then summons a winged humanoid creature. The creature appeared before her and waits obediently.
"Take this to Anubis. Make sure no one sees you." She hands the scroll to the creature who takes it, bows to his mistress, and disappears as silently as it arrived.
The Time Has Come
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From: pslyderfta@aol.com (Pslyder FTA)
Date: 23 Oct 2003 06:27:30 EDT
Once again up on his mountaintop perch, trying to occupy his mind with something other than what had been on it for the past couple of days, he was busy deleting old files and new files that might become compromising. In between those, he was taking little glances around Rhy'din, using those enhanced eyes of his. . . .
"Lisana an' PJ. . .damn. . .'bout wore this fragger out. . ."
. . .general merriment in one of the myriad inns around the town. . .
"Chaz inna Pit. . .too bad nothin' happened there. . .Gon' hafta talk ta her 'bout thaht. . ."
. . .small winged beastie carrying a scroll towards Anubis' compound. . .
"Chaz an' me inna Pool. . .Nope. . .definitely cain't loo-. . ." ::pause, squint, doublesquint. . .quick look around where he was. . .muttering:: "Ah *knew* Ah should'a brought mah bow. . ."
His instincts were screaming at him that something was going down, but this time, he chose to be patient, taking the time to go home and prepare. . .and that included eating and sleeping. . .it'd happen soon enough. . .
Date: 23 Oct 2003 06:27:30 EDT
Once again up on his mountaintop perch, trying to occupy his mind with something other than what had been on it for the past couple of days, he was busy deleting old files and new files that might become compromising. In between those, he was taking little glances around Rhy'din, using those enhanced eyes of his. . . .
"Lisana an' PJ. . .damn. . .'bout wore this fragger out. . ."
. . .general merriment in one of the myriad inns around the town. . .
"Chaz inna Pit. . .too bad nothin' happened there. . .Gon' hafta talk ta her 'bout thaht. . ."
. . .small winged beastie carrying a scroll towards Anubis' compound. . .
"Chaz an' me inna Pool. . .Nope. . .definitely cain't loo-. . ." ::pause, squint, doublesquint. . .quick look around where he was. . .muttering:: "Ah *knew* Ah should'a brought mah bow. . ."
His instincts were screaming at him that something was going down, but this time, he chose to be patient, taking the time to go home and prepare. . .and that included eating and sleeping. . .it'd happen soon enough. . .
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From: jakethrash@aol.com (JakeThrash)
Date: 26 Oct 2003 15:22:22 EST
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 2
She's one Bad Mother...
The tavern, marked by a wrought iron griffon over its entrance, was dimly lit, as always. The walls were steeped in the smell of fire and smoke. Ventilation wasn't one of the tavern keeper's priorities. The tavernkeeper, called Scarface by many, a veteran of many adventures of his own, kept a watchful eye on the tavern's occupants. At the hint of trouble, a quick nod to the over-sized bouncer at the door and the trouble-maker was likely to feel the business end of a large metal-studded club. The fact the bouncer was still here after a year meant he was pretty good at his job. It could be a dangerous occupation in a place like Badside.
Jake moved to the bar after giving the room a sweeping glance. Scarface set out a mug before Jake could ask. "The Badsider Brew seems to be a hit, Jake."
Jake grunted, but inwardly he was pleased. It was always good to have the income of the brewery around in the event he needed to purchase weapons, or, as was the case this time, information.
"I'm lookin' for information on a dame that mighta been kidnapped. You heard anythin' goin' around?" Jake took a long swig of the ale, guzzling down half of the mug.
Scarface nodded to the poster tacked by the door. "Her you mean?" He was cleaning a mug with rag as they conversed. The grey orb that filled his left eye socket reflected little light, but one sometimes got the sense that there was a flicker in there of something.
Jake nodded in reply.
"I've heard a few people asking around. Twitchy seems particularly interested in finding something out."
The orc chuckled a little at that. "That mean you haven't heard anythin'?"
Scarface shrugged, "nothing worth passing along." Unasked, he refilled the mug with more ale. "You can hang around if you like and see if anyone's talking."
Jake nodded and accepted the mug, "I think I'll do that."
~~~
A cluster of rogues sat around one of the tables not far from the large hearth in the open room. No fire was lit this early in the season.
"Whatever happened to Fat Jack? He still dealing? Haven't seen him in a while." The question from a rogue sitting closest to the open hearth.
A bulky guy, busy shaking a cup before casting a set of gaming bones replied, "You haven't heard the story? I heard he crossed someone named Shakira and that she carved the guy's skin off, and left the empty husk, still dripping with blood, as a warning to anyone else that tried to cross her. Nobody ever heard what she did with the rest of the body."
A third rogue, with a face that reminded one of a weasel, piped in, "Yeah, well, the story I heard was that she skinned him alright, and left the skin as a warning, but then took his body and hung it up on a stake, still breathing, a mass of dripping blood and slashed muscle, on the doors at the south gate of town!"
The last figure laughed in derision. "You guys got it all wrong. Way I heard it, she didn't skin him. She made him skin himself! And every time he passed out from pain, she'd force him awake again and made him continue." There were several disbelieving snickers. "Then after he'd carved his own skin off, she took the skin to wear as a cape, and then dragged him down into whatever hell it is she comes from and there she keeps him alive, bleeding and helpless, while she snips away at him day by day even to this very day."
"Horsedung! Where'd you hear that? He'd have to be dead by now!"
"Nuh uh, not if she magicked him and made him stay alive. Forcing him to suffer for crossing her. I hear she eats a little bit of his soul each day too. Or feeds bits of him to her pets, which is how they are able to take the shape of men."
"Some say you can still hear him screaming in the hovel where she caught him and skinned him."
"Ghost stories!" Protested weasel-face.
"No! I've been there, I heard it! No lie, you can hear him still wailing in pain."
~~~
Jake, sitting nearby, had been listening to the exchange. The image certainly fit with the reputation of the Shakira he knew. As he threw back a swig of ale, the orc had a thought and leaned closer to their table.
"Yer talkin' about Shakira?" He was restating something he already knew, but it served as an opener for his next question. "What brings her up?" Maybe they had started on Fat Jack, but they had been quick to start trading Shakira stories.
Weasel-face turned to the orc, while the bulky one threw the bones and laughed in triumph at a good cast. "You haven't heard? One of her cat demon things was seen in Badside a couple days ago."
"Oh yeah?"
"Saw it myself." The man near the hearth answered. The others made noises of derision. "No, it's true. Two of 'em. Scary things they are too. I didn't get close, they was growling and hissing at anyone that came near 'em." As he spoke the rogue pursed his lips and pulled out more copper to bet on the next round of Bones. He took up the cup and began shaking it. "They must not have wanted anyone to get near their 'package'."
Jake didn't have to ask what a package was. The slavers who frequented Badside tended to refer to their captives in that manner. "Any idea where they are holdin' out?" The orc was interested, but kept his tone offhand. It would not do to make it sound like he was too interested, or the rogues might sense an opportunity to demand money for their information.
The rogues in unison largely shook their heads. "Nah, they disappeared pretty quick. Probably hiding down in one of the sub-caverns, if they are even still around.
The orc frowned to himself, there were too many caverns to go hunting through, and too many good places to hide in Badside. He would have to hope some additional information leaked out. In the meantime, he finished off his ale and got to his feet. A quick nod to Scarface and Jake headed out to do some more poking around.
Date: 26 Oct 2003 15:22:22 EST
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 2
She's one Bad Mother...
The tavern, marked by a wrought iron griffon over its entrance, was dimly lit, as always. The walls were steeped in the smell of fire and smoke. Ventilation wasn't one of the tavern keeper's priorities. The tavernkeeper, called Scarface by many, a veteran of many adventures of his own, kept a watchful eye on the tavern's occupants. At the hint of trouble, a quick nod to the over-sized bouncer at the door and the trouble-maker was likely to feel the business end of a large metal-studded club. The fact the bouncer was still here after a year meant he was pretty good at his job. It could be a dangerous occupation in a place like Badside.
Jake moved to the bar after giving the room a sweeping glance. Scarface set out a mug before Jake could ask. "The Badsider Brew seems to be a hit, Jake."
Jake grunted, but inwardly he was pleased. It was always good to have the income of the brewery around in the event he needed to purchase weapons, or, as was the case this time, information.
"I'm lookin' for information on a dame that mighta been kidnapped. You heard anythin' goin' around?" Jake took a long swig of the ale, guzzling down half of the mug.
Scarface nodded to the poster tacked by the door. "Her you mean?" He was cleaning a mug with rag as they conversed. The grey orb that filled his left eye socket reflected little light, but one sometimes got the sense that there was a flicker in there of something.
Jake nodded in reply.
"I've heard a few people asking around. Twitchy seems particularly interested in finding something out."
The orc chuckled a little at that. "That mean you haven't heard anythin'?"
Scarface shrugged, "nothing worth passing along." Unasked, he refilled the mug with more ale. "You can hang around if you like and see if anyone's talking."
Jake nodded and accepted the mug, "I think I'll do that."
~~~
A cluster of rogues sat around one of the tables not far from the large hearth in the open room. No fire was lit this early in the season.
"Whatever happened to Fat Jack? He still dealing? Haven't seen him in a while." The question from a rogue sitting closest to the open hearth.
A bulky guy, busy shaking a cup before casting a set of gaming bones replied, "You haven't heard the story? I heard he crossed someone named Shakira and that she carved the guy's skin off, and left the empty husk, still dripping with blood, as a warning to anyone else that tried to cross her. Nobody ever heard what she did with the rest of the body."
A third rogue, with a face that reminded one of a weasel, piped in, "Yeah, well, the story I heard was that she skinned him alright, and left the skin as a warning, but then took his body and hung it up on a stake, still breathing, a mass of dripping blood and slashed muscle, on the doors at the south gate of town!"
The last figure laughed in derision. "You guys got it all wrong. Way I heard it, she didn't skin him. She made him skin himself! And every time he passed out from pain, she'd force him awake again and made him continue." There were several disbelieving snickers. "Then after he'd carved his own skin off, she took the skin to wear as a cape, and then dragged him down into whatever hell it is she comes from and there she keeps him alive, bleeding and helpless, while she snips away at him day by day even to this very day."
"Horsedung! Where'd you hear that? He'd have to be dead by now!"
"Nuh uh, not if she magicked him and made him stay alive. Forcing him to suffer for crossing her. I hear she eats a little bit of his soul each day too. Or feeds bits of him to her pets, which is how they are able to take the shape of men."
"Some say you can still hear him screaming in the hovel where she caught him and skinned him."
"Ghost stories!" Protested weasel-face.
"No! I've been there, I heard it! No lie, you can hear him still wailing in pain."
~~~
Jake, sitting nearby, had been listening to the exchange. The image certainly fit with the reputation of the Shakira he knew. As he threw back a swig of ale, the orc had a thought and leaned closer to their table.
"Yer talkin' about Shakira?" He was restating something he already knew, but it served as an opener for his next question. "What brings her up?" Maybe they had started on Fat Jack, but they had been quick to start trading Shakira stories.
Weasel-face turned to the orc, while the bulky one threw the bones and laughed in triumph at a good cast. "You haven't heard? One of her cat demon things was seen in Badside a couple days ago."
"Oh yeah?"
"Saw it myself." The man near the hearth answered. The others made noises of derision. "No, it's true. Two of 'em. Scary things they are too. I didn't get close, they was growling and hissing at anyone that came near 'em." As he spoke the rogue pursed his lips and pulled out more copper to bet on the next round of Bones. He took up the cup and began shaking it. "They must not have wanted anyone to get near their 'package'."
Jake didn't have to ask what a package was. The slavers who frequented Badside tended to refer to their captives in that manner. "Any idea where they are holdin' out?" The orc was interested, but kept his tone offhand. It would not do to make it sound like he was too interested, or the rogues might sense an opportunity to demand money for their information.
The rogues in unison largely shook their heads. "Nah, they disappeared pretty quick. Probably hiding down in one of the sub-caverns, if they are even still around.
The orc frowned to himself, there were too many caverns to go hunting through, and too many good places to hide in Badside. He would have to hope some additional information leaked out. In the meantime, he finished off his ale and got to his feet. A quick nod to Scarface and Jake headed out to do some more poking around.
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From: jakethrash@aol.com (JakeThrash)
Date: 26 Oct 2003 19:30:01 EST
While Jake traversed the network of maze-like tunnels that comprised Badside, he debated the wisdom of paying a visit to Gorog. The old orc kept a pretty good hand in anything that happened in Badside. As he thought these things, Jake spotted a familiar figure. A furtive man, positively skulking in the opposite direction. The orc grinned.
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 3
A Twitch in the Night
"Twitchy!" The orc roared as he broke into a quick jog. The man froze like a startled rat. Jake sensed the man was considering a run for it. The orc caught him by the shoulder in a hard grasp. "Twitchy! Why so pale? I haven't even swung at you yet!"
The small man blanched and looked over his shoulder at the orc. "Jake! I was just looking for you!"
"Ya' were? Well, ain't that handy, here I am!"
Twitchy gulped, and his eyes darted around. Jake figured he was about to get a very entertaining story.
With a sudden violent movement, the orc grabbed Twitchy's arms with both hands and slammed the man up and back against the wall of the tunnel. Lifted off the ground so that he was above the orc's eye level, Twitchy whimpered.
"Cough it up. I ain't got time to play."
"Alright, alright, alright! Just lemme down! I'll tell, I swear!" He floundered against the wall, feet kicking.
Jake let him down slightly, so that his feet were just touching the ground. "Go on."
"I heard from a slaver there's a boat, one of them fancy ones, coming in at midnight tonight. Picking up special cargo. The slaver swears it's that Anubis Karos maniac's boat. That Anubis made some kinda deal." He struggled for a moment trying to get his feet to the ground, then gave up.
"What else?" The orc growled low, baring his tusks a little for emphasis.
"Jake, that's all I know. Special cargo. A gift I hear. Maybe some sort of deal. The boat's coming in after dark to pick it up."
The orc held the man prisoner for another moment while he thought things through. Tonight. Only hours away. Not much time to gather help. And he would need help. Cat demons? A boat full of Karos' henchmen? It sounded like a fight was brewing and a lone orc armed even with as many blades as Jake habitually carried wasn't going to be enough.
Almost forgotten, Twitchy squirmed, trying to get free. Jake let him go absently. Twitchy dropped to the floor and ducked out. With a quick look to make sure he wasn't about to get grabbed or hit, the man dashed off down the tunnel.
Jake figured this called for some heavy duty firepower. Who might he grab that might be nearby?
The orc jogged down the tunnel. A boat. That meant the piers. At least that gave him an idea of where the exchange might take place. That meant lots of space to cover. And it was going to be a moonless night, he'd need to grab someone that could work in the dark.
As the orc ran, he thought about who he might find.
Date: 26 Oct 2003 19:30:01 EST
While Jake traversed the network of maze-like tunnels that comprised Badside, he debated the wisdom of paying a visit to Gorog. The old orc kept a pretty good hand in anything that happened in Badside. As he thought these things, Jake spotted a familiar figure. A furtive man, positively skulking in the opposite direction. The orc grinned.
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 3
A Twitch in the Night
"Twitchy!" The orc roared as he broke into a quick jog. The man froze like a startled rat. Jake sensed the man was considering a run for it. The orc caught him by the shoulder in a hard grasp. "Twitchy! Why so pale? I haven't even swung at you yet!"
The small man blanched and looked over his shoulder at the orc. "Jake! I was just looking for you!"
"Ya' were? Well, ain't that handy, here I am!"
Twitchy gulped, and his eyes darted around. Jake figured he was about to get a very entertaining story.
With a sudden violent movement, the orc grabbed Twitchy's arms with both hands and slammed the man up and back against the wall of the tunnel. Lifted off the ground so that he was above the orc's eye level, Twitchy whimpered.
"Cough it up. I ain't got time to play."
"Alright, alright, alright! Just lemme down! I'll tell, I swear!" He floundered against the wall, feet kicking.
Jake let him down slightly, so that his feet were just touching the ground. "Go on."
"I heard from a slaver there's a boat, one of them fancy ones, coming in at midnight tonight. Picking up special cargo. The slaver swears it's that Anubis Karos maniac's boat. That Anubis made some kinda deal." He struggled for a moment trying to get his feet to the ground, then gave up.
"What else?" The orc growled low, baring his tusks a little for emphasis.
"Jake, that's all I know. Special cargo. A gift I hear. Maybe some sort of deal. The boat's coming in after dark to pick it up."
The orc held the man prisoner for another moment while he thought things through. Tonight. Only hours away. Not much time to gather help. And he would need help. Cat demons? A boat full of Karos' henchmen? It sounded like a fight was brewing and a lone orc armed even with as many blades as Jake habitually carried wasn't going to be enough.
Almost forgotten, Twitchy squirmed, trying to get free. Jake let him go absently. Twitchy dropped to the floor and ducked out. With a quick look to make sure he wasn't about to get grabbed or hit, the man dashed off down the tunnel.
Jake figured this called for some heavy duty firepower. Who might he grab that might be nearby?
The orc jogged down the tunnel. A boat. That meant the piers. At least that gave him an idea of where the exchange might take place. That meant lots of space to cover. And it was going to be a moonless night, he'd need to grab someone that could work in the dark.
As the orc ran, he thought about who he might find.
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From: jakethrash@aol.com (JakeThrash)
Date: 26 Oct 2003 19:32:01 EST
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 4
Elves, feh!
In the end, it was the blade which helped the orc make his choice. As he grabbed up knives from a rack on the wall of the brewery and stuffed them into his belt or boots, he thought about the cat demons. Bound to be tough. A flicker of silver caught his eye. The orc frowned.
Pausing in his furious motion, the orc turned his gaze upon the gleaming silver blade. The elven blade rested there, untended, but still spotlessly clean and razor-sharp. Yes, as much as the orc hated to admit it. He might need it.
The orc stepped forward, grabbing up the elven blade recovered from that long ago trip into Gothmorda. His only souvenir of that journey. He was never sure why he kept it. Maybe because it had saved his life in that dread place.
The blade fit in his hand in an unnatural way. Its balance remained perfect. The keen edge was unmarred despite being centuries old. Elves did have a habit of making things to last, but, in this case, the blade held the remnants of other magic as well. Having once served as the channel for the Stormfist gauntlet's awesome power, some lingering echo of that power still infused the blade.
Jake reflexively swung the blade, then grabbed up a sheath and rammed the blade into it. Quickly throwing the harness over his shoulder, the orc headed for the exit. With Stormblade resting against his back, the orc went off in search of the elf, Pslyder.
Elves. Wonderful. Just the kind of people Jake liked to work with.
Date: 26 Oct 2003 19:32:01 EST
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 4
Elves, feh!
In the end, it was the blade which helped the orc make his choice. As he grabbed up knives from a rack on the wall of the brewery and stuffed them into his belt or boots, he thought about the cat demons. Bound to be tough. A flicker of silver caught his eye. The orc frowned.
Pausing in his furious motion, the orc turned his gaze upon the gleaming silver blade. The elven blade rested there, untended, but still spotlessly clean and razor-sharp. Yes, as much as the orc hated to admit it. He might need it.
The orc stepped forward, grabbing up the elven blade recovered from that long ago trip into Gothmorda. His only souvenir of that journey. He was never sure why he kept it. Maybe because it had saved his life in that dread place.
The blade fit in his hand in an unnatural way. Its balance remained perfect. The keen edge was unmarred despite being centuries old. Elves did have a habit of making things to last, but, in this case, the blade held the remnants of other magic as well. Having once served as the channel for the Stormfist gauntlet's awesome power, some lingering echo of that power still infused the blade.
Jake reflexively swung the blade, then grabbed up a sheath and rammed the blade into it. Quickly throwing the harness over his shoulder, the orc headed for the exit. With Stormblade resting against his back, the orc went off in search of the elf, Pslyder.
Elves. Wonderful. Just the kind of people Jake liked to work with.
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From: jakethrash@aol.com (JakeThrash)
Date: 26 Oct 2003 23:52:34 EST
Somewhere off in the distance, a bell tolled the hour. The echoes of the bell carried over the waters of the bay. Were one there to hear it, a faint repeating sound could be heard. The slip of many oars in and out of the water as a papyriform boat slid through the water and towards the pier. An ornate vessel, the lines of which were gilded, which would have gleamed in bright sun. Instead, the boat was illuminated only with a faint phosphorescence, which made the entire boat seem ghostly.
The oarsmen stroked in silent unison. A faint drumbeat struck out their speed. As they neared the pier their pace slowed. Oars were shipped and heavily tanned bodies leaped up to tie off the boat. All still strangely silent in their actions.
A figure arose from a canopied spot on the deck. A jackal faced figure strode forward, immediately six warriors took up positions before and behind him, escorting the figure onto the pier.
From the shadows near a darkened warehouse, four figures moved out, approaching the boardwalk which extended out over the water. Two largish cat-like humanoids bracketed a man leading a woman who staggered and weaved under his direction. The gleaming red eyes of the cat demons were tightly focused on the figures mounting the pier.
The demons sniffed the air in unison and turned, looking back into the darkness which cloaked the side of the warehouse. A low growl carried out to their sensitive ears, and a voice rang out "ya' didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did ya'?"
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 5
All Hell Breaks Loose
The orc lunged out of the darkness, twin blades slashing outward in immediate violence. A cat demon went down under the surprise assault. The second demon moved, claws outstretched, ready to carve into the orc tumbling with the first.
A shot rang out. The second cat demon lurched forward a step. A slow trickle of blood began to leak down the demon's chest from a wound through the upper left shoulder. The demon turned in place, fierce eyes searching out the offender.
"Yer a tough one, eh chummer? Null perspiration, ah got'cher chew toy right here..." A heavily armed elf stepped from the shadows and a darkened pier lit up violently as twin SMG's opened up, spraying the air with streaks of fire that impacted against the the demon. An ear-shattering howl split the air as the explosive rounds found their mark. Small explosions of flesh and blood splattered the pier, the man in robes, and the woman who stood as if drugged, unaware of the violence breaking out around her.
The orc rolled around on the ground, twin blades flashing in and out, carving into the first cat demon. Heedless of the injuries, the cat demon slashed out with razor claws, raking at the orc. The hardened leather armor blunted most of the blows, but streaks of blood nevertheless appeared as the cat demon tore the armor apart.
Jake pivoted, lashing out with a snapping kick to push the cat away before the armor was completely shredded. The orc rolled away, clambering quickly back to his feet. The cat was already on its feet, preparing to lunge. Its fangs were bared, and a growling hiss was emanating from it.
In his peripheral vision, the orc could see the second cat demon staggering under the onslaught of the explosive rounds even as it attempted to stride forward towards the elf wielding twin guns. First one, then the other, ran out of ammo and the explosive bursts stopped and the strobing light of their impact stopped. Leaving the night once more in near total dark.
The orc's nightvision was unimpaired by the darkness. The bright heat signature of the demon was right before him. The man in robes began dragging the woman away.
"Too long...this is taking too long," the orc thought to himself. The cat demons were not going down as quickly as the orc might have hoped, but it was as he had feared. The trusty blades, twin short swords, which had long served the orc, were not up to the task of facing this hell beast. The cat leaped, a fierce screaming yowl escaping as it flew at the orc. The orc threw himself sideways, narrowly missing being tackled by the demon. The orc landed hard, bruising a shoulder as he evaded the attack.
The cat was already recovering and readying for another pass. Burning red eyes gave the orc his target.
"Alright, so that's how ya' wanna play," the orc growled back in a false sense of bravado. Jake grabbed at the hilt of the elven blade behind his shoulder. The silver sword slipped free of the sheath just as the demon bulleted forward.
In another moment, the servants from the boat would be upon them. The thought flew through the orc's head as time seemed to move in slow motion.
The elf had abandoned the SMGs and had pulled a pair of upgraded Ares Predator III heavy caliber pistols. The cat demon had finally fallen, its chest a broken mass of splintered bone, shredded flesh and gushing blood.
The Egyptian warriors were nearly upon them. Wielding giant curved blades, the darkly skinned humans raced along the boardwalk. Pslyder leveled his pistols and challenged, "Y'all come an' git it!" and opened fire, once more lighting up the night with the flash and bark of gunfire.
The demon closed with Jake. The orc's silver blade flashed in a wide arc, a wisp of fire almost seemed to course down the blade as it struck deep into the demon's body, slicing deeply through the shoulder and into the chest. The elven blade, magicked by long association with the power of the Opals proved much more effective than the mundane weapons the orc normally used. The demon shrieked in agony, its attack aborted by the unexpected pain.
The orc pivoted, letting the falling cat hit the boardwalk, and before it could rise again, Jake growled, tusks bared, and brought Stormblade down in a double-handed blow. The silver blade, icy blue, parted flesh like water. Bone sheared apart as the sword carved deeply into the cat demon's torso. Blood sprayed outward under the impact.
A curved blade nearly took the head off of the orc as he stamped backwards to gain distance from the downed cat demon. Jake ducked and rolled, slashing out low at ankle level. A muffled scream as the man fell, blood pouring from the stump of his ankle. The curved khopesh clattered away uselessly.
A quick glance and the orc could see three of the warriors were down, and Psly was engaged in melee with two others. His twin katanas were flashing left and right, keeping them at bay. The predators lay on the ground, perhaps empty, perhaps just abandoned when the fight got close.
The mechanized elf was holding his own, but he was beset on two sides. Counting the cat demon as down, the orc charged into the fray. With a roar, the orc body tackled one of the giant humans, tumbling him to the ground. Lithe like a cat, the human was already rebounding. The khopesh was coming around in a decapitating blow. The orc responded, his left hand grabbing and ramming a skull-hilted knife deep into the chest of the Egyptian. Blood spilled down the knife and the force of the khopesh swing fell away.
The orc could feel where the leather of his collar had split, and a trickle of blood was oozing out. He grunted and shoved the corpse off of him.
Psly had dealt with the remaining warrior. The body lay before him crumpled on the ground. Both katanas dripped with blood. The elf peered down the pier watching the jackal headed figure. Its eyes glowed in the darkness. An arm came up, a ball of fire formed in its hand as the jackal-man moved into a throw. A sharp retort sounded, and the jackal-man twisted about. The ball of fire released and flew wildly into the bay.
Jake turned back to see Psly, still holding the twin katanas. The elf winked, "Ah brought a li'l help."
Another shot rang out, the jackal-man staggered about on the end of the pier. Two more shots followed. Servants raced up the ladders from the boat, wailing as their master was struck. The jackal-man staggered about and pinpointed the incoming fire. A wave of his arm cast another fireball into the distance, towards the top of a warehouse farther down the boardwalk.
"Drek!" The cyber-elf swore and dropped the katanas, reaching for yet another set of pistols.
The orc had no time to see what happened next as he was tackled from behind. Razor claws raked through the leather of his armored back. The orc howled in pain as a cat demon, apparently not dead yet, attacked.
Jake fell; he could hear gunfire only scant feet away as the elf fired at targets down at the end of the pier. The orc wrestled his way around to face the demon. He growled in answer to its hissing screams. The cat was blindingly fast, claws raked into the orc's arms as he used them to protect his face.
The cat demon was in too close for the sword to be of any use. Jake abandoned it and reached upward, heavily calloused hands circling the demon's throat, hoping to crush the life out of it before it killed him.
Blood splattered into the orc's eyes. Probably his own. His vision centered on the face of the cat. He could see its gnashing teeth and feel its hot breath. The orc could hear no sound, as the pain of slashing wounds filled his senses. The orc tightened his grasp, powerful muscles clenched his fingers tighter and tighter. His focus became the two pinpoints of light above him, the eyes of the cat. He crushed the throat of the cat with all his might, even as he felt his own conciousness slipping away.
Date: 26 Oct 2003 23:52:34 EST
Somewhere off in the distance, a bell tolled the hour. The echoes of the bell carried over the waters of the bay. Were one there to hear it, a faint repeating sound could be heard. The slip of many oars in and out of the water as a papyriform boat slid through the water and towards the pier. An ornate vessel, the lines of which were gilded, which would have gleamed in bright sun. Instead, the boat was illuminated only with a faint phosphorescence, which made the entire boat seem ghostly.
The oarsmen stroked in silent unison. A faint drumbeat struck out their speed. As they neared the pier their pace slowed. Oars were shipped and heavily tanned bodies leaped up to tie off the boat. All still strangely silent in their actions.
A figure arose from a canopied spot on the deck. A jackal faced figure strode forward, immediately six warriors took up positions before and behind him, escorting the figure onto the pier.
From the shadows near a darkened warehouse, four figures moved out, approaching the boardwalk which extended out over the water. Two largish cat-like humanoids bracketed a man leading a woman who staggered and weaved under his direction. The gleaming red eyes of the cat demons were tightly focused on the figures mounting the pier.
The demons sniffed the air in unison and turned, looking back into the darkness which cloaked the side of the warehouse. A low growl carried out to their sensitive ears, and a voice rang out "ya' didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did ya'?"
Jake Thrash, Thug for Hire
Episode 5
All Hell Breaks Loose
The orc lunged out of the darkness, twin blades slashing outward in immediate violence. A cat demon went down under the surprise assault. The second demon moved, claws outstretched, ready to carve into the orc tumbling with the first.
A shot rang out. The second cat demon lurched forward a step. A slow trickle of blood began to leak down the demon's chest from a wound through the upper left shoulder. The demon turned in place, fierce eyes searching out the offender.
"Yer a tough one, eh chummer? Null perspiration, ah got'cher chew toy right here..." A heavily armed elf stepped from the shadows and a darkened pier lit up violently as twin SMG's opened up, spraying the air with streaks of fire that impacted against the the demon. An ear-shattering howl split the air as the explosive rounds found their mark. Small explosions of flesh and blood splattered the pier, the man in robes, and the woman who stood as if drugged, unaware of the violence breaking out around her.
The orc rolled around on the ground, twin blades flashing in and out, carving into the first cat demon. Heedless of the injuries, the cat demon slashed out with razor claws, raking at the orc. The hardened leather armor blunted most of the blows, but streaks of blood nevertheless appeared as the cat demon tore the armor apart.
Jake pivoted, lashing out with a snapping kick to push the cat away before the armor was completely shredded. The orc rolled away, clambering quickly back to his feet. The cat was already on its feet, preparing to lunge. Its fangs were bared, and a growling hiss was emanating from it.
In his peripheral vision, the orc could see the second cat demon staggering under the onslaught of the explosive rounds even as it attempted to stride forward towards the elf wielding twin guns. First one, then the other, ran out of ammo and the explosive bursts stopped and the strobing light of their impact stopped. Leaving the night once more in near total dark.
The orc's nightvision was unimpaired by the darkness. The bright heat signature of the demon was right before him. The man in robes began dragging the woman away.
"Too long...this is taking too long," the orc thought to himself. The cat demons were not going down as quickly as the orc might have hoped, but it was as he had feared. The trusty blades, twin short swords, which had long served the orc, were not up to the task of facing this hell beast. The cat leaped, a fierce screaming yowl escaping as it flew at the orc. The orc threw himself sideways, narrowly missing being tackled by the demon. The orc landed hard, bruising a shoulder as he evaded the attack.
The cat was already recovering and readying for another pass. Burning red eyes gave the orc his target.
"Alright, so that's how ya' wanna play," the orc growled back in a false sense of bravado. Jake grabbed at the hilt of the elven blade behind his shoulder. The silver sword slipped free of the sheath just as the demon bulleted forward.
In another moment, the servants from the boat would be upon them. The thought flew through the orc's head as time seemed to move in slow motion.
The elf had abandoned the SMGs and had pulled a pair of upgraded Ares Predator III heavy caliber pistols. The cat demon had finally fallen, its chest a broken mass of splintered bone, shredded flesh and gushing blood.
The Egyptian warriors were nearly upon them. Wielding giant curved blades, the darkly skinned humans raced along the boardwalk. Pslyder leveled his pistols and challenged, "Y'all come an' git it!" and opened fire, once more lighting up the night with the flash and bark of gunfire.
The demon closed with Jake. The orc's silver blade flashed in a wide arc, a wisp of fire almost seemed to course down the blade as it struck deep into the demon's body, slicing deeply through the shoulder and into the chest. The elven blade, magicked by long association with the power of the Opals proved much more effective than the mundane weapons the orc normally used. The demon shrieked in agony, its attack aborted by the unexpected pain.
The orc pivoted, letting the falling cat hit the boardwalk, and before it could rise again, Jake growled, tusks bared, and brought Stormblade down in a double-handed blow. The silver blade, icy blue, parted flesh like water. Bone sheared apart as the sword carved deeply into the cat demon's torso. Blood sprayed outward under the impact.
A curved blade nearly took the head off of the orc as he stamped backwards to gain distance from the downed cat demon. Jake ducked and rolled, slashing out low at ankle level. A muffled scream as the man fell, blood pouring from the stump of his ankle. The curved khopesh clattered away uselessly.
A quick glance and the orc could see three of the warriors were down, and Psly was engaged in melee with two others. His twin katanas were flashing left and right, keeping them at bay. The predators lay on the ground, perhaps empty, perhaps just abandoned when the fight got close.
The mechanized elf was holding his own, but he was beset on two sides. Counting the cat demon as down, the orc charged into the fray. With a roar, the orc body tackled one of the giant humans, tumbling him to the ground. Lithe like a cat, the human was already rebounding. The khopesh was coming around in a decapitating blow. The orc responded, his left hand grabbing and ramming a skull-hilted knife deep into the chest of the Egyptian. Blood spilled down the knife and the force of the khopesh swing fell away.
The orc could feel where the leather of his collar had split, and a trickle of blood was oozing out. He grunted and shoved the corpse off of him.
Psly had dealt with the remaining warrior. The body lay before him crumpled on the ground. Both katanas dripped with blood. The elf peered down the pier watching the jackal headed figure. Its eyes glowed in the darkness. An arm came up, a ball of fire formed in its hand as the jackal-man moved into a throw. A sharp retort sounded, and the jackal-man twisted about. The ball of fire released and flew wildly into the bay.
Jake turned back to see Psly, still holding the twin katanas. The elf winked, "Ah brought a li'l help."
Another shot rang out, the jackal-man staggered about on the end of the pier. Two more shots followed. Servants raced up the ladders from the boat, wailing as their master was struck. The jackal-man staggered about and pinpointed the incoming fire. A wave of his arm cast another fireball into the distance, towards the top of a warehouse farther down the boardwalk.
"Drek!" The cyber-elf swore and dropped the katanas, reaching for yet another set of pistols.
The orc had no time to see what happened next as he was tackled from behind. Razor claws raked through the leather of his armored back. The orc howled in pain as a cat demon, apparently not dead yet, attacked.
Jake fell; he could hear gunfire only scant feet away as the elf fired at targets down at the end of the pier. The orc wrestled his way around to face the demon. He growled in answer to its hissing screams. The cat was blindingly fast, claws raked into the orc's arms as he used them to protect his face.
The cat demon was in too close for the sword to be of any use. Jake abandoned it and reached upward, heavily calloused hands circling the demon's throat, hoping to crush the life out of it before it killed him.
Blood splattered into the orc's eyes. Probably his own. His vision centered on the face of the cat. He could see its gnashing teeth and feel its hot breath. The orc could hear no sound, as the pain of slashing wounds filled his senses. The orc tightened his grasp, powerful muscles clenched his fingers tighter and tighter. His focus became the two pinpoints of light above him, the eyes of the cat. He crushed the throat of the cat with all his might, even as he felt his own conciousness slipping away.
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From: jakethrash@aol.com (JakeThrash)
Date: 26 Oct 2003 23:53:52 EST
Quiet.
The orc opened his eyes and looked up. He lived. A moment later, he realized he was still clutching the broken neck of the cat demon. Its tongue lolled from useless lips, and no more did it hiss and growl.
The orc tossed the body away and staggered slowly to his feet. A few feet away, the elf stood, his own body marked by wounds though the orc could not see how severe they were. The elf stood watching the man in robes.
A short distance away, the robed man glared at them both. He held the woman, PJ, before him. One arm around her body, holding her close, while the other held a sacrificial knife to her neck. The woman moaned softly, but her eyes were like those of one drugged. She made no movement to resist or escape his grasp.
The elf stood, a pistol was clutched in one hand, but the orc suspected it was empty. The orc reached for the hilt of a knife, but the man warned him off.
"I will kill her."
The orc growled and the elf responded, "An' we'll kill you."
"You will regret your interference in the affairs of my mistress! I deny you this victory!" His knife moved suddenly and unerringly towards PJ's neck. Both elf and orc started to lunge forward with no hope of stopping him in time.
The blade stopped and the man howled in pain. "Yearrrgh!" The knife clattered away and he released the woman. The robed man beat at a small figure that leaped with blinding speed and had bitten deeply into his forearm. A large white cat, heretofore unnoticed, hissed near the man's feet, ears back and hissing at the imp attacking the man in robes.
PJ seemed to suddenly snap out of her trance. "What?....Where..."
The imp leaped off the man, ignoring his batting hand. "PJ! My precious PJ! I will save you! Quick! Quick! I will, I will!" The imp lifted PJ completely over its head and carried her away at a run. Orc, elf, and man alike were taken by surprise. The white cat hissed and circled the man in robes protectively. The man clutched at his arm and swore words in a language unknown to the orc.
The orc and the elf stopped. Psly glanced towards the orc inquisitively. The orc shrugged at him, wincing as the movement caused pain. "Ok, so I brought a little help too."
The man, his face flushed with rage, regained his feet. "You might have won this round, heroes" his voice was derisive as he said that word, "...be content with that and go." His voice was a whisper of pain and anger.
Jake glanced at the elf and then back to the man. The elf did likewise.
The orc bared his tusks. "I say we stomp him."
The elf grinned as well, "Ah copy thaht."
"Fools!" The man in robes hissed, almost catlike. "I am not so easily dispensed with!" And before the elf or the orc could close with him, the man in robes stepped backwards into a pool of heavy shadow. As he did so, the man, and the odd white cat at his feet, disappeared. "Another time, heroes...." Again that mocking derision as he escaped.
The orc, his vision blurred from pain, slumped as the fight was ended. As the adrenaline began to wear off, the orc could begin to feel the many wounds covering his body. Blood leaked from many. Jake realized he was going to need attention, and soon.
A glance at the elf, and the orc assessed the elf was hurt as well. Perhaps it was just as well the fight was over...for now. Neither of them were likely to have lasted much longer.
Jake turned and followed the sight of the imp and the woman being carried away. The imp's tiny voice still carried back to them. "I've saved you! I've saved my precious PJ! Yay me! You're saved! Quick! Quick!"
The orc chuckled for a moment and immediately winced; it felt as if some of his ribs might be broken. "You think the imp is gonna let Max have PJ back?"
The elf responded with a laugh.
Jake looked at the elf for a moment. "Thanks for yer help."
"Null perspiration, chummer." The elf shrugged off the thanks, but he too winced a little.
"What?" The orc was too weary, and in too much pain, to make sense of the response. He limped a little and then turned to glance back at the papyriform boat which was slowly drifting out into the bay.
The elf looked as well. The boat was aflame. The oarsmen-slaves fought desperately to put out the blaze, but it was a lost cause. Dimly, Jake could see what he thought might be the jackal-man slumped in the prow of the boat. "Think they'll make it?" the orc asked.
The night was split by the sound of an explosion, and lit up by a giant golden fireball. The boat disintegrated in a flash, fragments of wood scattering about the water. Tiny pieces of flaming debris landed on the pier.
"Naw. Ah don't think so." The elf responded dryly.
The orc raised an eyebrow at him.
The elf grinned back in feral manner. "Call it a partin' gift. A little Semtex to speed 'em on tha way back ta their master."
The orc chuckled.
Jake began limping back towards the warehouses. The elf did likewise.
"Ya' wanna stick around for when people start comin' to find out what happened?" Jake asked as he surveyed the bodies littered about the pier. The orc noted that the bodies of the cat demons had disappeared, but did not remark on it.
"Naw, ah like keepin' a low profile, ya know? On the ... sly."
The orc groaned at the pun.
Together they moved down to the end of the pier. As they walked, the orc commented. "Ya' know, Psly, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
The elf looked at the orc. The orc looked at the elf. They each grinned in turn and in unison responded. "Nah...."
As they reached the end of the pier, Jake turned right, heading towards one of the secret entrances to Badside, while the elf turned left, headed perhaps to regroup with his sniper ally.
The orc began humming tunelessly as he limped off into the night.
Date: 26 Oct 2003 23:53:52 EST
Quiet.
The orc opened his eyes and looked up. He lived. A moment later, he realized he was still clutching the broken neck of the cat demon. Its tongue lolled from useless lips, and no more did it hiss and growl.
The orc tossed the body away and staggered slowly to his feet. A few feet away, the elf stood, his own body marked by wounds though the orc could not see how severe they were. The elf stood watching the man in robes.
A short distance away, the robed man glared at them both. He held the woman, PJ, before him. One arm around her body, holding her close, while the other held a sacrificial knife to her neck. The woman moaned softly, but her eyes were like those of one drugged. She made no movement to resist or escape his grasp.
The elf stood, a pistol was clutched in one hand, but the orc suspected it was empty. The orc reached for the hilt of a knife, but the man warned him off.
"I will kill her."
The orc growled and the elf responded, "An' we'll kill you."
"You will regret your interference in the affairs of my mistress! I deny you this victory!" His knife moved suddenly and unerringly towards PJ's neck. Both elf and orc started to lunge forward with no hope of stopping him in time.
The blade stopped and the man howled in pain. "Yearrrgh!" The knife clattered away and he released the woman. The robed man beat at a small figure that leaped with blinding speed and had bitten deeply into his forearm. A large white cat, heretofore unnoticed, hissed near the man's feet, ears back and hissing at the imp attacking the man in robes.
PJ seemed to suddenly snap out of her trance. "What?....Where..."
The imp leaped off the man, ignoring his batting hand. "PJ! My precious PJ! I will save you! Quick! Quick! I will, I will!" The imp lifted PJ completely over its head and carried her away at a run. Orc, elf, and man alike were taken by surprise. The white cat hissed and circled the man in robes protectively. The man clutched at his arm and swore words in a language unknown to the orc.
The orc and the elf stopped. Psly glanced towards the orc inquisitively. The orc shrugged at him, wincing as the movement caused pain. "Ok, so I brought a little help too."
The man, his face flushed with rage, regained his feet. "You might have won this round, heroes" his voice was derisive as he said that word, "...be content with that and go." His voice was a whisper of pain and anger.
Jake glanced at the elf and then back to the man. The elf did likewise.
The orc bared his tusks. "I say we stomp him."
The elf grinned as well, "Ah copy thaht."
"Fools!" The man in robes hissed, almost catlike. "I am not so easily dispensed with!" And before the elf or the orc could close with him, the man in robes stepped backwards into a pool of heavy shadow. As he did so, the man, and the odd white cat at his feet, disappeared. "Another time, heroes...." Again that mocking derision as he escaped.
The orc, his vision blurred from pain, slumped as the fight was ended. As the adrenaline began to wear off, the orc could begin to feel the many wounds covering his body. Blood leaked from many. Jake realized he was going to need attention, and soon.
A glance at the elf, and the orc assessed the elf was hurt as well. Perhaps it was just as well the fight was over...for now. Neither of them were likely to have lasted much longer.
Jake turned and followed the sight of the imp and the woman being carried away. The imp's tiny voice still carried back to them. "I've saved you! I've saved my precious PJ! Yay me! You're saved! Quick! Quick!"
The orc chuckled for a moment and immediately winced; it felt as if some of his ribs might be broken. "You think the imp is gonna let Max have PJ back?"
The elf responded with a laugh.
Jake looked at the elf for a moment. "Thanks for yer help."
"Null perspiration, chummer." The elf shrugged off the thanks, but he too winced a little.
"What?" The orc was too weary, and in too much pain, to make sense of the response. He limped a little and then turned to glance back at the papyriform boat which was slowly drifting out into the bay.
The elf looked as well. The boat was aflame. The oarsmen-slaves fought desperately to put out the blaze, but it was a lost cause. Dimly, Jake could see what he thought might be the jackal-man slumped in the prow of the boat. "Think they'll make it?" the orc asked.
The night was split by the sound of an explosion, and lit up by a giant golden fireball. The boat disintegrated in a flash, fragments of wood scattering about the water. Tiny pieces of flaming debris landed on the pier.
"Naw. Ah don't think so." The elf responded dryly.
The orc raised an eyebrow at him.
The elf grinned back in feral manner. "Call it a partin' gift. A little Semtex to speed 'em on tha way back ta their master."
The orc chuckled.
Jake began limping back towards the warehouses. The elf did likewise.
"Ya' wanna stick around for when people start comin' to find out what happened?" Jake asked as he surveyed the bodies littered about the pier. The orc noted that the bodies of the cat demons had disappeared, but did not remark on it.
"Naw, ah like keepin' a low profile, ya know? On the ... sly."
The orc groaned at the pun.
Together they moved down to the end of the pier. As they walked, the orc commented. "Ya' know, Psly, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
The elf looked at the orc. The orc looked at the elf. They each grinned in turn and in unison responded. "Nah...."
As they reached the end of the pier, Jake turned right, heading towards one of the secret entrances to Badside, while the elf turned left, headed perhaps to regroup with his sniper ally.
The orc began humming tunelessly as he limped off into the night.
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From: tarethathorn@aol.com (Tareth A Thorn)
Date: 27 Oct 2003 05:03:59 EST
He might have been taken for a stone gargoyle at any other time, but generally old waterfront warehouses aren't graced with the demonic statues. With so much to occupy both harrowers and servants below, being seen was hardly a concern of his at this point. He perched with one knee on the lip of stone at the edge of the building, the play of light and shadow flitting across his face as various explosions and sorceries chased the action below.
While others scoured hide and hair, the professional always went right to the source. Ever since he had outed the Egyptian at the end of the quest, Tareth knew something would go down between the slaver and whomever had PJ, since Anubis insisted it wasn't him. It had to happen one way or another, Anubis was at most a man of his word. And even more, if there was one thing he could count on about the Egyptian it was that there could be no small production made of such a large transaction. Of several messengers and even more rumors to filter through, the inside connection finally got him a lead on a large slave barge being sent from Anubis' "special" envoy. That warrented Tareth's personal attention, if he was lucky he might even be able to find a way to short-change the deal himself.
"Messy," he mumbled to the night as the last pieces of flaming debris clattered to the dock below, a few flying embers even going so far as to spatter against the heavy canvas of his coat and wide hat, even at this high vantage. "But effective, this time. Reminds me of being young and stupid again."
One thing was certain though, that being that his deal with Anubis was off. He didn't relish the idea of working for the slaver in any capacity anyhow, even for such a noble cause as PJ's safety. Those with less subtle approaches had done the job for him, which suited him fine at this point. He had other matters to focus on right now.
Tareth adjusted his lapels, straightening them out as he stood full height again. As the heroes dispersed underneath him, he wandered toward the more shadowy end of the building's rooftop as well.
Date: 27 Oct 2003 05:03:59 EST
He might have been taken for a stone gargoyle at any other time, but generally old waterfront warehouses aren't graced with the demonic statues. With so much to occupy both harrowers and servants below, being seen was hardly a concern of his at this point. He perched with one knee on the lip of stone at the edge of the building, the play of light and shadow flitting across his face as various explosions and sorceries chased the action below.
While others scoured hide and hair, the professional always went right to the source. Ever since he had outed the Egyptian at the end of the quest, Tareth knew something would go down between the slaver and whomever had PJ, since Anubis insisted it wasn't him. It had to happen one way or another, Anubis was at most a man of his word. And even more, if there was one thing he could count on about the Egyptian it was that there could be no small production made of such a large transaction. Of several messengers and even more rumors to filter through, the inside connection finally got him a lead on a large slave barge being sent from Anubis' "special" envoy. That warrented Tareth's personal attention, if he was lucky he might even be able to find a way to short-change the deal himself.
"Messy," he mumbled to the night as the last pieces of flaming debris clattered to the dock below, a few flying embers even going so far as to spatter against the heavy canvas of his coat and wide hat, even at this high vantage. "But effective, this time. Reminds me of being young and stupid again."
One thing was certain though, that being that his deal with Anubis was off. He didn't relish the idea of working for the slaver in any capacity anyhow, even for such a noble cause as PJ's safety. Those with less subtle approaches had done the job for him, which suited him fine at this point. He had other matters to focus on right now.
Tareth adjusted his lapels, straightening them out as he stood full height again. As the heroes dispersed underneath him, he wandered toward the more shadowy end of the building's rooftop as well.
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From: pslyderfta@aol.com (Pslyder FTA)
Date: 27 Oct 2003 08:28:27 EST
Oh yeah, there was some throbbing and stinging going on. . .but in the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush, he was finally calm. Granted, PJ was now in the hands of the Imp, but he was relatively harmless. . .as far as PJ was concerned, anyways. . . He trusted the bike's autopilot to get him home while he did some hasty bandaging of various nicks and cuts. Chuckling softly, he thought of Chaz' words. . .and he was sure he was going to get the tar beat out of him this time. . .but he had that tourney coming up. He didn't worry so much about winning it, now. . .the reason behind it was now behind him.
::cue flashback::
He'd been in his garage, where he almost always was when he wasn't scouring for clues or brawling, when Jake had shown up at the door. All thoughts of the normal sales pitch flew out the window with one look at Jake's expression. The only words spoken were by Jake.
"Dockside, midnight. Get loaded."
A nod, then the combat bike rose up out of the floor, and he'd snagged the combat harness from it with a feral grin. " 'Bout fraggin' time. . ." he thought. He'd catch up with Chaz tonight and give her the location and time as well. . .when going into unknown turf with little recon, it paid to have all the help you could get. . .
::end flashback::
Again, he chuckled to himself as he rode back to the garage and the medic supplies waiting there. . .yeah, it was going to be another long night, but he had a whole lot less worry on his shoulders now. . .
Date: 27 Oct 2003 08:28:27 EST
Oh yeah, there was some throbbing and stinging going on. . .but in the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush, he was finally calm. Granted, PJ was now in the hands of the Imp, but he was relatively harmless. . .as far as PJ was concerned, anyways. . . He trusted the bike's autopilot to get him home while he did some hasty bandaging of various nicks and cuts. Chuckling softly, he thought of Chaz' words. . .and he was sure he was going to get the tar beat out of him this time. . .but he had that tourney coming up. He didn't worry so much about winning it, now. . .the reason behind it was now behind him.
::cue flashback::
He'd been in his garage, where he almost always was when he wasn't scouring for clues or brawling, when Jake had shown up at the door. All thoughts of the normal sales pitch flew out the window with one look at Jake's expression. The only words spoken were by Jake.
"Dockside, midnight. Get loaded."
A nod, then the combat bike rose up out of the floor, and he'd snagged the combat harness from it with a feral grin. " 'Bout fraggin' time. . ." he thought. He'd catch up with Chaz tonight and give her the location and time as well. . .when going into unknown turf with little recon, it paid to have all the help you could get. . .
::end flashback::
Again, he chuckled to himself as he rode back to the garage and the medic supplies waiting there. . .yeah, it was going to be another long night, but he had a whole lot less worry on his shoulders now. . .
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From: genayacdf@aol.com (GeNayaCDF)
Date: 31 Oct 2003 18:53:49 EST
A Snipers Point of View
Chastity De'Everlon
Chastity was laid out on the roof of the warehouse. The cover draped over her matched the color of the roof, making her blend in and be for the most part unnoticable. The enhancements in her eyes were making it possible for her to see what was going on down at the docks.
The boat was watched as it approached. She was keeping an eye on the fighting as well as it broke out. Narrowed eyes keeping tabs on each of the combatants she could see. Her focus was quickly brought to the robed man as he grabbed the girl.
The sight of the Jackal headed fellow at the end of the pier was enough to garner her attention. She watched him closely.
A round was chambered in the sniper rifle as she saw the fireball starting to form in his hand. The report was sharp as she took aim and fired off the round, watching the fireball fly into the bay harmlessly. Another round chambered and the shot was fired, before she got off two more. She knew she had hit her mark.
The sight of the approaching fireball had her scrambling to her feet and running full speed for the opposite side of the warehouse roof. Camo gear in hand and her rifle slung over her shoulder. She leapt over the edge of the warehouse roof. Landing awkwardly on the fire escape as the fireball found her previous position. She could feel the heat of the ensuing fire even where she was. Her skin was prickling and she was moving quickly. Sliding down the ladders on each level before she was leaping off the last landing of the fire escape. Landing awkwardly on a wooden flat, it sent her tumbling. The long sleeve turtleneck being torn on the back of her left shoulder and along her left arm as it caught on a piece of wood. The soft swearing was unmistakeably feminine.
She smacked her head on the corner of a dumpster as she shifted, twisted and rolled. Saving the rifle from any damage, at expense to her own body. She was filing away the information garnered from the look of the boat and the henchmen that had come from it. She knew of only one person in this place that had fit the discriptions she had seen. It was the Egyptian, Pslyder had warned her about. She'd actually fought one of his henchmen named Cory.
Feet carrying her quickly over the distance to the Camo'd custom bike Pslyder had built for her. The rifle was broken down and stowed along with the rest of her gear before she was sliding onto the bike. The canopy slid down into place over her and she was waiting patiently for Pslyder to get back to the meeting point. Only once she saw him did she take off. Heading back towards the Garage. She had to change, get some more gear and she was going to go find this Egyptian.
Investigation of the Egyptian was first and foremost on her mind. Some would call it stalking. The elf was on a mission now and she was damn well going to find out all she could about him. The one named Cory as well and any others that she observed around this drek-sucking cobra.
Date: 31 Oct 2003 18:53:49 EST
A Snipers Point of View
Chastity De'Everlon
Chastity was laid out on the roof of the warehouse. The cover draped over her matched the color of the roof, making her blend in and be for the most part unnoticable. The enhancements in her eyes were making it possible for her to see what was going on down at the docks.
The boat was watched as it approached. She was keeping an eye on the fighting as well as it broke out. Narrowed eyes keeping tabs on each of the combatants she could see. Her focus was quickly brought to the robed man as he grabbed the girl.
The sight of the Jackal headed fellow at the end of the pier was enough to garner her attention. She watched him closely.
A round was chambered in the sniper rifle as she saw the fireball starting to form in his hand. The report was sharp as she took aim and fired off the round, watching the fireball fly into the bay harmlessly. Another round chambered and the shot was fired, before she got off two more. She knew she had hit her mark.
The sight of the approaching fireball had her scrambling to her feet and running full speed for the opposite side of the warehouse roof. Camo gear in hand and her rifle slung over her shoulder. She leapt over the edge of the warehouse roof. Landing awkwardly on the fire escape as the fireball found her previous position. She could feel the heat of the ensuing fire even where she was. Her skin was prickling and she was moving quickly. Sliding down the ladders on each level before she was leaping off the last landing of the fire escape. Landing awkwardly on a wooden flat, it sent her tumbling. The long sleeve turtleneck being torn on the back of her left shoulder and along her left arm as it caught on a piece of wood. The soft swearing was unmistakeably feminine.
She smacked her head on the corner of a dumpster as she shifted, twisted and rolled. Saving the rifle from any damage, at expense to her own body. She was filing away the information garnered from the look of the boat and the henchmen that had come from it. She knew of only one person in this place that had fit the discriptions she had seen. It was the Egyptian, Pslyder had warned her about. She'd actually fought one of his henchmen named Cory.
Feet carrying her quickly over the distance to the Camo'd custom bike Pslyder had built for her. The rifle was broken down and stowed along with the rest of her gear before she was sliding onto the bike. The canopy slid down into place over her and she was waiting patiently for Pslyder to get back to the meeting point. Only once she saw him did she take off. Heading back towards the Garage. She had to change, get some more gear and she was going to go find this Egyptian.
Investigation of the Egyptian was first and foremost on her mind. Some would call it stalking. The elf was on a mission now and she was damn well going to find out all she could about him. The one named Cory as well and any others that she observed around this drek-sucking cobra.
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From: captsneggle@aol.com (Capt Sneggle)
Date: 31 Oct 2003 20:48:24 EST
::Sprite's lack of success so far at bringing the Unagi rat to bay seemed to indicate that perhaps another skilled person with different ways could be of value.
He had heard of a sniper with outlandish weaponry that perhaps could be employed. Worth checking into::
Date: 31 Oct 2003 20:48:24 EST
::Sprite's lack of success so far at bringing the Unagi rat to bay seemed to indicate that perhaps another skilled person with different ways could be of value.
He had heard of a sniper with outlandish weaponry that perhaps could be employed. Worth checking into::