This continues from Doulos and Black Box Imperium.

You wake after some really weird dreams of James T. Kirk in a Pilgrim era dress lecturing you on how the Temporal Prime Directive forbids the eating of chocolate chip cookies, and your punishment is to be dropped into the functioning freezer at the back of a burnt-down Taco Bell, when you realize one element of your dream is real.

Its cold.  Horribly cold.  You're shivering before you wake up.  You're laying on your back, and you hear the howling wind pass overhead...


PT

The horrid and violent shivering of my body wakes me up, the muscles all over aching from constant tightening in the cold weather.  I sit up instantly and my head is filled with speckles and spots from the blood rush to my head.

"What the..."  I couldn't believe I was alive, just before I passed out I was dying, and painfully as well.  "What just happened to you?"  The question faded from my mind as the numbing wind cut into me again, forcing me to wrap my arms tightly around myself.  With a quick survey of my surroundings I try and scramble to my feet in an attempt to find some shelter from the cold weather.  My questions would have to wait for now, this cold had taken my attention off of my previous situation for the time being.

OOC:  If I have to sleep inside some animal belly for warmth I won't be very happy!

You're lightly covered by falling snow, and standing atop snow (no telling how deep, but your feet can tell you're not standing on an inch of snow over solid ground.)

There are no tracks around you.  The only marks are your body's imprint, and the few feet you've moved since you stood up.

The sky is a sullen overcast gray with no hint of blue.

Around you are small hills covered by snow.

In the distance, perhaps a mile, a gentle rise uphill a tower, no a skyscraper top points out above the snow for around forty stories.  Looking at it, it seems faintly familiar.  And then with a chill deeper than the cold could ever produce you recognize the top of the Chrysler Building.  Damaged, windows broken out it is, but still standing, forlorn in the bone-raking wind which occasionally stirs up a flurry of ice crystals to slap your face.

OOC: I don't think you'll have to do that, but no promises.

PT

After the initial shock of seeing the Chrysler building in such rough condition, my body bforces me to continue trying to find shelter.  "That building is as good as any I guess, I NEED to get out of this wind."

And so I begin to trudge through the snow towards the Chrysler building, my eyes squinting from the wind and ice crystals being blown in all directions.  As I walk I keep an eye out for any other familiar landmarks along the way.  I'm no expert in New York landscaping, but I do know a couple other buildings that should be fairly recognizable.

"Just find a place to get warm and then figure out what's going on, this is far too strange..."  I wrap my arms around myself even tighter and lower my head, determined to find shelter.

You do see what you think is a broken off Empire State Building, and another huge scraper totally unfamiliar to you as you trudge up the arduous slope.  There should be some others, but there's a lot of snow-covered hillocks.

You reach the Chrysler Building, and enter a broken window, and scramble over the ice drifted into the window and down the long hall.  There's darkened offices to your right and left, and the hallway goes forward about twenty feet into the dimness, and then hooks to the left.

There's no functioning lights, and the only illumination is the weak sunlight coming through the broken windows.

Its still dreadfully cold, but at least you are out of the ice crystals, and most of the wind, although an occasional gust still finds you and shudders the building.

PT

The sight of the Empire State Building no longer in tact is even more disturbing then the state of the Chrysler.  Flashbacks of an recent science fiction movie I had seen, 'The Day After Tomorrow', enter my mind and I hurry on towards shelter in the hopes of findig some warmth.

As I wander down the hallway I try the handles on the office doors, hoping to find an office that is open and search for blankets or extra clothing to wrap around me.  "You've got to get further inside this building, away from the wind."  I contemplate my surroundings as I walk along, thoroughly confused again as to how  I have ended up in the middle of nowhere in another world that seems completely alien to my own.

"Have I changed times again?  How did I not die in the last time?  How is it possible for me to be moving in and out of time like this?"  The questions kept piling up, and no answers were in sight at the moment.

The doors are unlocked, or the locks are busted deliberately, and practically everything inside them that is wood, paper, or cloth is stripped.  You do see an abundance of dead computers, and one yard square plastic calendar sheet with grossly faded magic marker scheduling listed in handwriting by someone probably long dead.

May 2004 is written across the top.  Daily temps in the fifties are calibrated across the board with the temps slowly dropping after May 18.

On May 18 is written in small print "Yet another. New Delhi gone. Fools."

At the bottom is written.
"Robert Morgan Williams. Federated Securities. Tell my Wife Cynthia Estelle, dog Minnie if you see them. I'm leaving the City. Food harder to get. Heading South to West Virgina.  Should be safe there. May 27, 2004 AD."

You hear echoes coming down the hall.

PT

As my eyes scan across the writing, my gut is filled with a sense of dread once again.  "Whatever happened here is far worse then just a bad snowstorm..."  I see May 18 and May 27th and note that those dates should yield far warmer temperatures then the ones recorded on the listing in front of me.  "Some kind of ice age perhaps? Global warming, or maybe a nuclear winter?"  I shiver again, only able to forget about the cutting cold for a mintue before my body reminds me.  <i>"Not enough damage to be a nuclear attack, everything here would be levelled I would think."

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sounds of something else down the hallway.  The dead echo resounds through the empty hallways and I spin quickly around and head for the door.  Reaching the doorway I slowly begin to peek my head out, taking care to try and stay quiet in case whatever is making the sounds is not so friendly.

You see two shaggy bearded guys clad in a mix of animal skins and NY Knicks sweatshirts, clutching homemade spears, come around the corner.  They miss you, and walk to the window.

"See Harold, the (noise of wind gust) fell there, and walked up to here.  I knew my bud Mark didn't steer us wrong.  (wind gust) as a spear's flight he came to this building." The taller man says.

"Then where is he?"  Harold replies by the window.

PT

I bite my bottom lip to keep quiet as I weigh my options.  "I could try and take these two guys out, but I don't have a weapon and I'm likely to end up gored and bleeding.  Or I could yell for help, but what am I going to tell these guys.  Clearly they saw me and know I am here.  It's only a matter of time before they find me."

I tossed the options around in my head for a few seconds before I decided on a  course of action.  Exhaling a silent breath of air which forms ice crystals in front of my face, I stumble out of the doorway, trying to look as confused as possible.

"Hello?  Is anyone out there?" I call out.  "Hello, I need help...anyone?"  I begin to walk down the hallway away from the two men, pretending that I didn't hear them, but also listening to be sure that they don't sneak up behind me.

You step out, and down the hallway, and hear an exclamation of shock and awe from behind you.

Then a thump, and a clatter.

"Lord, Mighty Lord, we the Jotun are your servants. Please."

You turn your head slightly and see both them kneeling on one knee with the spears on the ground, but held, and heads  bowed.

PT

I pause for a moment and swallow hard, then turn my body around to follow the direction my head is facing.  I stare at the two kneeling men for a moment and realise that they think I am someone who I am clearly not.  "Jotun? What the heck is that?"  I am confused but already trying to figure out a way to understand what is going on.

"Thank goodness you're here!  I need help. Who are you and where am I?"  I had thought about pretending to be their god, or whatever they think, but who knows what consequences there might be from that.  "I seem to have lost some of my memory, can you help me?"

I keep my hands out in clear view in case these two are ths skittish type that would be threatened by a stranger.

They study each other a bit, and then one stands, nods respectfully and speaks to you.

"Perhaps my lord was tossed from the Bridge by the Watchful One, and struck his head on the Tree?  Even gods can lose their memory it is said.  Even from here, we can see where you fell to Earth.

I am Sigurd, and this is Harold.  You are in the tower of your brother, the one who goes by the name of Professor Lowell Key in his human form.  He is very wise, and has mighty magics. He can help you."

PT

I smile and then bow slightly to the two men.  "I would be most honored to meet with Professor Lowell Key, please take me to him."  The whole experience is like a game, as if we are all just actors trying to play characters in wierd roleplaying experience.  And yet, I cannot be surprised that this 'might' be actually happening.  Perhaps I have been placed into some other time even further down the road.  Who knows, maybe this is an ice age that occurs thousands and thousands of years after my own time.

The questions will remain unanswered for now, but perhaps this Professor can help me.

"As we go to meet your Professor, can you tell me what day it is today?"

"It is Thor's Day." Sigurd says, and then they take you down ten flights of stairs to a large open area where they strip off their cloaks.  Its nearly sixty degrees down here, and several dozen people gather around to see you.  But the two guards push them back gently, and lead you to an office.

They open a door to a corner office.  The walls are braced by steel beams against the pressure of the ice, but still there's quite a bit of open space in the center where a man in an odd one piece suit, decorated with gold, and his face, sharp, witty, and amused is crownded by a head of fiery red hair, and sits at a desk.

"Welcome to my Tower.  The watchers tell me you appeared from nowhere."  He waves for the other two to leave.

PT

<i>"Thor's Day?  Thursday perhaps?" I thought about the play on words and figured either I misheard or there had been some slight renaming of days for some reason.  I pushed it into the back of my mind for later, and got ready to meet this Professor.

As I am ushered in I can't help but feel a little bit like laughing at the gaudy appearance of the man in front of me, especially because of the contrast between him and the others that took me here.  I wait for the others to leave and then speak up.

"Yes well, I guess I did sort of appear out of nowhere, or at least that's what I've been told.  I must admit I don't recall much about 'how' I got here."  I study his face for his reaction, wondering how he might treat a stranger who claims to have no recollection of how he appeared on the premises.

"As for your tower, well I wasn't aware that the Chrysler Building had been sold, or given even, to a new private owner.  But then based on the weather, I am clearly not aware of very much."  I pause for a moment and look around the room, taking in the entirety of the office and looking for any clues as to where or when I ended up.  "If I might ask you, what day is it today.  Some of your...watchers is it?, claimed that it was Thor's Day.  I am unfamiliar with this term.  I was hoping I could be told the date as well, as in year, and month if at all possible."

Inwardly I was holding my breath.  The others seemed to almost regard me with some sort of respect, but who knew what this man might think of another person infringing on his territory.

"Appearing from nowhere. It makes one wonder, it does." He says with his face shuttered.  He taps his teeth.

"Perhaps the stories we tell have more validity than I had thought. Or the tale of the stories creates their own validity. Yes, that makes more sense.  My tales might have brought you here to Midgard.

Well then brother, well met."


"The Chrysler Tower, its old name,now the Tower of Fire, was abandoned, after the City was abandoned to the advancing snows, and people foolishly fled south to embrace Fimbulwinter's hurricanes. So I took it, along with the tribe that worshipped me.

There's a calendar on a blackboard with May 19 marked as the current day.

"Brother, this is Year Five of the Fimbulwinter. Or as I in times past would have called it, 2012.  It is Thor's Day. Back before the White Christ came and imposed his story upon the world, the gods of the North had their names inscribed in the days.  And now, they have their reign again."

PT

I shake my head slowly and then sigh.  "I'm sorry but you're going to have to explain a little bit more to me.  I don't understand what this Fimbulwinter is?  Some kind of horrible storms came this way then?  What of the rest of the world?  How did these storms start?  What's happened to the rest of the country, is it just everyone for themselves now?"

I dropped my gaze and stared at the floor for a moment, feeling a headache beginning to creep up into my brow.  All of this was so odd, especially after thinking I was dead for a while and all.

I raised my eyes again to stare at the Professor.  "I apologise for all of the questions.  I know nothing of all of this, my knowledge does not go beyond when this snow did not exist except in the winter.  I would love to hear more of this Fimbulwinter and the stories that go along with it."

He smiles.

"In early 2004, India advanced a troop column into Pakistan.  The Paks responded by threats, pleas, and a small nuke.  The Indians responded by several larger nukes a couple days later.  Things kept rising in spurts separated by days and weeks.  The US tried to intervene, but we think a terrorist group nuked its Persian Gulf Carrier Force.  The US backed off.

General nuclear war between the two powers seemed on the verge, and Britain decided to end it with a barrage of tactical nukes to take out both sides nuclear capabilities.  The Chinese saw the missiles coming, and mistakenly thought the US had launched on them.  So they launched on the West Coast and the Midwest.

We obliterated them, and the other potential threats.  But it was probably a hollow victory by then anyways as we were already well on our way into nuclear winter.

Two years later, I'd guess ninety percent of humanity was dead from the cold, wars, riots, starvation, and the mega-hurricanes.  Then the weather stabilized into the Equatorial Storms and the Cold Zone.  Things have gone downhill since then as starvation and cold and injury kill more people.

And in this madness, a poet arose and told his people a story.  And that story gave them meaning for their lives.  And that was all that mattered.  And this professor spoke of Ragnarok, and the Twilight of the Gods, and how he had seen Thor come back to Midgard to battle once again.  For surely we are all doomed, but it will be a grand party for humanity before the Final Curtain."

You look into his eyes, and your first thought is He's mad.

PT

He's mad

I thought that I could not be shocked any longer when I walked into the room, but that couldn't have been any less true.  The idea that much of the world is dead due to a large nuclear war, while common in movies, is not one that is easy to digest when first heard.  Throughout the entire 'history lesson' I often cover my mouth with my hand or bite my lip, the stories of destruction and annihilation at points almost overwhelming me.

But then the lesson takes a twist and the Professor begins ranting on tangeants which are similar to mythology and Norse legend.  My first thought is that the radiation must have fried his brain and perhaps it is still the case, but here I stand, again somehow stranded in a world completely alien to what I use to know.

After the Professor finishes I nod slowly and then speak, my voice firm but calm.  "These stories that you tell me; they are horrible and heartbreaking.  Now if you will give me a moment I must tell you that I am not from this time."  I tried to gauge his reaction, but from his own mad ravings I was not too worried about frightening him with strange tales.  "No, in fact I am from a time well before this year, from a time when there was no nuclear war, and India and Pakistan were just two nations who only had the 'potential' to attack each other with nuclear weapons.  Why and how I have been sent here is unknown to me, but I do know that I am here to help."  The words sounded hollow, but they seemed to be appropriate given the situation and the reaction of some of the people here.

"Tell me, how can I help you, what is it that I can do for you right now?"  My hope was to glean a bit more information from the Professor and others by interacting and involving myself with them.  Somehow I keep moving through time and there must be a reason why.  What is the common thread between this timeline and the one I just came from, aside from great destruction and pain, that has brought me here.  And why is it only I that have been cursed with this fate?  There must be a reason...

"Slung through time. Ten years ago as a prosperous little professor of Literary Criticism at a community college, I would have smiled at you.  Now I find myself believing you.

Why have you been sent here?  Its obvious.  Indeed I grow in my faith day by day.  You have been sent to do the will of the Norns.  The time has come for all threads to be cut.  It is Fimbulwinter. Ragnarok.

I thought it amusing that I served at Asgard Community College.  I found it weird that the president, a most strict and harsh man who was strangely popular with the ladies and the men, was named O'Donnell.  And then as I go south, a lightning bolt lands at my feet, and I see a storm coming, a hurricane, and I guide my troop away back to the North and safety.  And I had to explain my actions to them, explain why I was helpful to them rather than useless weight, and so I told them Thor had sent the lightning as a message to me.

At first I do not believe.  But its a good story, and thats all we need, but now I think I made it happen.  Because I need a good story.  And so I brought you here, as one more sign that this is true.

For am I not Lowell Key? Am I not Loki?"

He throws his hands up in the air, and then he looks down upon you from his full height with a commanding charisma in his eyes.

"Now brother, we plot how to bring down Asgard as is prophesied."

PT

Whatever glue this guy was sniffing was certainly cheap and most definitely a real doozey.  His mad ravings were the type seldom heard even by the craziest of folks and yet he clearly had some sort of following around him.  Who were these others that believed in him, why did they follow his madness?

It took a moment for me to regain my composure after listening to such tales, but I had to respond, somehow to dig the truths that were hidden among his ramblings.

"Tell me about these prophecies about Asgard, I am intrigued to hear more.  What is your plan to bring Asgard down, and why is it that you have been called to do this task?"  I feel as if my strange manner of speaking is more acting then truth, but it seems to fit in well the theme of the Professor's speaking.

OOC:  I'm not sure of the significane of O'Donnell.

He has certainty in a terrifying world, and he has an undeniable presence and charisma.  But its an interesting question as to why the Jotun follow him.  Might want to ask them.

"The End of the World, Ragnarok.  First the Fimbulwinter Cask is opened, and the Earth is covered with ice.  And then the Jotun, the Giants, who built the wall about Asgard, repay their treacherous payment by destroying it.  And thus the gods die.

Now the prophecy says that Earth gets reborn with a man and a woman, but thats just piffle to appease sentimentalists.  No, its the story of the End of the World.  Humanity's End.  I tell my followers that they will be reborn in a Hawaian paradise, but I don't actually believe that.  We know better don't we? Pure, sweet Oblivion awaits.  The Final End to the wretched story of Humanity.

I have been called.  Thor gave me a sign. My name is Lowell Key.  The president of my old college in New Jersey is Patrick O'Donnell with an eye patch. Odin, I tell you.  I got the Jotun to build an ice wall to defend teh college, and they got betrayed for the price.  They have the Select whom I call the Enjherjherar.  Its all clear.  A Story is forcing itself into existence, and I am its instrument.  The only question is which god you are?"

PT

I ran through the list of gods in my head, my knowledge of Norse mythology not particularly strong.  "Thor?  Tyr?  Who else do I know?  I don't know enough about these myths to simply blurt out a response..."  I peer back over my shoulder quickly, paranoid about others watching or listening, perhaps as a result of living in a Big Brother society for so long.

"My name is Derek Hatch and so there is no convoluted way to make a god out of my name that way.  But if you must know my middle name is Tyr, and I 'am' the god of War and the Lawgiver.  Odin has had my spot of reign for too long now and it IS time for him to be overthrown isn't it?!"  I lied, and badly too, but I knew there was no way for him to know whether or not I had a middle name Tyr.  The only way for me to find out more information was to go along with his little game and see where it led.

"Right now I must go and speak with your men in order that I might assess the situation and prepare for war.  What do you say to this?"

OOC:  LOL I am so out of my element here.  I really know very little about Norse Mythology and so I kind of pulled one of the few names I knew out of the hat.  Things could get real messy now, especially if this guy sticks really closely to Norse myth.  I actualy had typed up a whole other post about being a normal person etc, but this way seemed to be much more fun so here we go...

His face lights up.

"Tyr, I knew it!  Then indeed we shall strike down that interloper Odin."

And so saying he has his fighters called into his office.  They fill it up.  There's eighty warriors among the Jotun including a few females.

"Now, my children, I the Lord Loki have prophesied that we would destroy those who have betrayed us, and look here, comes another of the Aesir to do so. Look upon Tyr, god of War, and know fear!"

They all bow to you with a great deal of respect, and some outright terror.

PT

I swallow hard as the large group of individuals bow deeply and show a sign of fear and respect that has never been shown to me before.  The fact that I am completely deceiving them just doesn't sit right and a pit of guilt digs deep into my belly as I watch them pay their homage.

"All for a good cause." I reassure myself.  "I won't lead them on for long, I simply need to know what the truth is behind all of this madness."  I smile as they bow, and then speak loudly to them.  "Stand up everyone, for we have much work to do, I would like to have the chance to get to know you all before we head off into battle.  If you would give me the chance Loki...," Just saying the name of a mythical god as if it is real makes my skin crawl. "Then I would like to spend some time with these men, a day perhaps?"

He nods, after giving you a suspicious glance, and then accepts with great good humor.

"Excellent. Warriors of the Jotun. I give you into the care of Tyr for the day. Serve him well, and you will be rewarded in the new world that is to come after the fall of the traitors of Asgard."

PT

I nod to Key and then turn and begin walking towards the doorway.  "This is a deadly line you're walking here, who knows how these men might react to questioning the sanity of their leader.  Be very careful..."  My internal warning system was raging and I knew I had to tread lightly in this situation.  I had but one day to try and figure out as much information as possible about this entire situation and how best to handle it.

As I exited the room I yelled out an order to the fighters nearby, my harsh voice sounding very unlike my own.  "Who is in charge of these men here?  Step forward, for I would like to speak directly with you.  We have much to talk about in regards to Odin and our plans."  Hopefully I would be able to sift through the insanity and myth that was being bandied about and could figure out a way to make all of this make sense.

OOC:  I'm back.  My job has been ... overwhelming ... the past week or so.  I am planning for two summer camps and trying to raise support for the organization I work with.  My paycheque depends on having the budget raised every month so this needs attention! :)  Anyways I should be back again for a while, I don't forsee any big gaps in posting any more.

Key seemed to be giving you a suspicious look, but then noticing you noticing him, he gave you a brightly pschyotic smile, and waved good-bye.  Outside, in the area you have chosen to talk with these...

"I am Lord. I am Reginald Hammer-thrower, formerly of the New York Jotuns, the greatest pro football team in the world."  He looks huge, steps lightly, and carries a twenty-pound sledgehammer like it was an ordinary clawhammer.  Not someone you would want to fight even if you had the club, and he was bare-handed.

But then he bows before you, and you can tell he's afraid of your, ah, "godly" might.

"Lord, I fear we do not have as good weapons as the Asgardians, may they perish in darkness, and as leader it is my fault, but I beg for mercy from the great god Tyr for I have worked mightily for him. Do not strike me down with your anger."

OOC: That's okay, and I feel sympathy for you, as well because I've been suffering with my book for the last week.  This game forum seems to have become a come when you can game, which is fine by me.

I raise my eyes in fake interest, the word football something that is at least somewhat familiar to me.

"Football huh?  Tell me more of this football team of yours..."  I pause for a moment and then wave my hand as if to brush off the comment.  "Nevermind that actually, for we have much more important matters to attend to.   Instead tell me about these weapons the Asgardians have and also what it is that we have.  I am very interested in comparing the might of these two armies and being able to prepare ourselves for the upcoming battle!"

I say the words with as much confidence as I can muster, although in truth I can feel a lump forming in my throat as I realise that there really could be a war in the making.

OOC:  Well hello there again.  I just returned from summer camp, and it was exhausting but very very good.  I don't really have any other games going right now so hopefully I can keep up a nice steady pace in posting.  Hope your summer went well!

"Lord Tyr, we have spears, some half of them have steel handles which is stronger, but it requires thick gloves so we don't lose skin to the metal.  We also have some other weapons such as my club, and Loki's knife, and his magic.

We have ten guns which still work,and have ammunition, as much as thirty rounds for the four .38 revolvers, although a great many more guns that are broken or without ammunition we have.

The Asgardians have buses, and a moat, and an electric fence and they have many guns, .22 target rifles, but plentiful ammunition, and rapiers and sabres.  There was a target range on teh school, and a teacher of fencing.  Plus, President of the College O'Donnel has the Spear of the Law, a mighty spear with which he can shatter our spears and cut us to the quick.

I hit him a glancing blow with this hammer, after throwing it, and he is now blind on his left side.

If we could break through their defences, then great pillage we would find.  Or if we could catch one of their buses that would be well too."

OOC: Glad to see you back.  Got my book up, and some adventures, and now I'm trying to write a bunch of short stories, and edit more worlds, and edit my next novel.  Its been good, if not as successsful as I'd like.

And we have a new player, Misty, who is aboard a sublight starship on the way to a technologically fallen colony world.

PT

The growing lump suddenly felt much larger as Reginald tells of the disparity in strength between the two armies.  It seemed as if they were pretty much doomed to die if what he was saying was entirely true.  There was a moment or two of silence as I thought of what a prudent course of action might be and then suddenly I thought of something.

"Reginald, do you think that the Asgardians would have seen me arrive today?  If not, then perhaps I could infiltrate their armies and sabotage them from within.  Somehow I would need to get over to where they are without making it obvious that I just came from here as well, but I imagine that you would know some way of achieving that."  This had a two-fold purpose to it.  If the Asgardians were indeed as overpowering as Reginald let on, then it would probably be best to stick with them and increase my chances of surviving.  I was also curious as to whether this delusion was rampant among other groups or if this particular group of people had simply been misled by a crazy man!

OOC:  Ok, I don't remember how inventory works, and what I have (had?) on me.  Just trying to think of anything I might have that could be useful in this situation.

Good to hear that you got your book going, I hope that you've had a decent bit of sales!  I am guessing you're still quite active over at the other website as well?

"Lord, who can say what the Asgardian Guard Captain, Heimdall the Watchful the Eagle-Eyed, might have seen, but likely he was not looking this way when you came down.  Otherwise, no lord. We keep good patrols out.  No Asgardians are near us.

If the lord wishes, we could equip him with trade goods of a certain value to the Asgardians.  Milord Loki already has spies inside the College of the Gods sent there by this method.  He would then be a wandering tinker.

But you would be wise to visit some other encampments first,in the path, to make it seem natural."

OOC: Your stuff would have been pretty close to you.  Back in your apartment, less than three hundred yards away from where you landed. I believe you had an advanced gun.  Pretty much anything you brought with you, and anything you gained as personal property would be nearby, and yes, you can sense the direction it is in.

I'm working hard on teh writing career,and I'm planning on doing some cons to let people know via way of seminars.  And I'm still somewhat active over on Gaming Outpost.  Feel free to drop in.  Its a nice bunch of people.

PT

I nod; a short, curt waggle of the head.

"Alright, then let's carry that plan out.  Some of my stuff must have landed somewhere around here when I was...er...sent here, so first things first I should go take a look for it.  While I am doing that if you could get some gear together for me to try and make me look as inconspicuous as possible, that would be most helpful.  I'm going to infiltrate this college and strike hard at the heart of the Asgardians!"

I grinned, a hearty, hopefully convincing smile erupting across my face as I 'bravely' communicated my plans to Reginald.

OOC:  I did actually lurk at the Outpost for some time.  There were some really interesting storylines going on that I kept up with while I had time.  Everyone seemed quite helpful as well.

It takes you about thirty minutes in the heavy snow, and amidst the occasionally treacherous areas which include a sinkhole, and other things, but you get your crew out to your stuff.

They take your "god weapons" back to the Tower with great respect.

Once there, they equip you with cold-weather gear, a toboggan loaded with furs, and a set of Craftsmen screwdrivers and wrenches, plus a dozen or so oddments of much lesser worth, and enough frozen moose meat to fill out the rest of the sled.

They also add a map from the old days before the snow which shows Asgard Community College, and your current location.  Asgard is evidently on the north shore of New Jersey.

And then Loki asks to speak to you in private.

PT

After double-checking to be sure what I will be carrying with me, I thank the men who equipped the sled and then wander off to speak with the one who calls himself Loki.

"This should be a most interesting conversation," I think to myself.  "I hope he's not having second thoughts about me leaving."

OOC:  I found my inventory in the Private Messages area.  Looks like I never had a weapon at all.  But I did bring a toque and gloves, a thick hoodie, some wool socks etc!

You picked up a Mark IV dart pistol with several hundred rounds in Black Box Imperium.  You also learned how to read surface thoughts (still very poor at it), and while you did not learn TK, you did create a Strong TK botch which might offer clues as to how to do TK.  And you swallowed a pill that had you dreaming in Kuwaiti dialect Arabic for a week.

You are well-dressed and warm, partially because of your own clothing you brought.

Loki takes you out to a high watch point atop his tower, and points out the best paths to go as far as the eye can see.

Then he begins to read an epic poem to you, in its original Norse.  Despite not understanding the words, it has a peculiar power and force to it, and Loki is a talented speaker.  As he rocks back and forth, his gleaming suit glowing in the sunlight, you feel yourself relaxing into the tale.

A servant comes, barely noticeable, and brings both of you hot tea which is well because the poem is evidently only a third over despite the significant time spent so far.

PT

The time spent atop the watch point is quite relaxing and almost mezmerizing.  It doesn't take long before I almost forget that I am in a strange environment, and in a world that is completely foreign to me.  Almost.

"I don't mean to interupt you in the middle of your poem, but I do feel as if I must be moving on today if I am to make any headway with the Asgardians.  There is likely to be a lot of travel involved."

I eye the tea given to me with some hesitation.  It looks quite warming and would likely taste very good, but something inside tells me I should be careful what I consume with these individuals.  I look up again with a smile on my face.

"If you have any last minute suggestions then by all means let me know.  I want to be as prepared as possible for whatever lays ahead of me."

He looks annoyed, and fuddles about giving you a chance to drink the tea, but as you let it cool, he merely nods.

"Go southeast toward the harbor, and then make for Lady Liberty across the ice, and then head due south.  You'll have to search around a bit once on the New Jersey shore, but you should see a bus, or some smoke after a bit.  Hopefully within a few hours."

Gritting your teeth as your mind clears, and you realize how cold the chair you are sitting on is, you realize "Loki" was trying to hypnotize you, and undoubtedly the tea had added ingredients that would have surprised and appalled the manufacturers.

PT

A shudder rolls down my spine as the crisp air sinks deeper into my bones and I come out of my semi-hypnotic state.  "He's good..." I think to myself.

I clear my throat quietly and then nod to Loki.

"Thank you for your assistance, I will do my best to take care of these Asgardians.  It won't be long now before we conquer these fools and have our day!"  I didn't believe a word I was saying and in truth I was hoping I would be able to 'get out of Dodge' and find a less crazy group of people somewhere out on the other side of town.

I stuck out my hand to Loki and offered to shake his hand, only just now realising that this may not be a common way of relating to each other any more.  "See you soon!"

He shakes your hand, and you head down the stairs.  As you pass, people slap you on the shoulder, or bow low, and a couple girls kiss you on the cheek until finally you are out of the tower and heading into the crisp, cold air.

The light is bright, almost dazzling on the snow.  The snow in front of you is untrod.  You've walked out of sight of the tower, now what?

PT

He shakes your hand, and you head down the stairs.  As you pass, people slap you on the shoulder, or bow low, and a couple girls kiss you on the cheek until finally you are out of the tower and heading into the crisp, cold air.

The light is bright, almost dazzling on the snow.  The snow in front of you is untrod.  You've walked out of sight of the tower, now what?

PT

I wrap my arms tightly about myself, a shiver rolling down my back.  Despite the winter gear it is still quite chilly and I can think of only one way to keep myself warm.  With a nod I begin a steady trod in the direction of the first stop on my way to the Asgardian camp.  According to the others I should make a few trading stops before I actually head to the college in an attempt to make myself look less conspicuous.

"I can't believe he was trying to manipulate me," I think to myself, going back to Loki's poem.  "Perhaps...if the others have come under the same manipulation..."

I ponder the circumstances for a moment and then it seems to make sense.  "What a great way to control a group of people, particularly if one is as skilled at manipulation as this Loki is.  I certainly hope to find some others who are much saner on the other side of the fence."

I squint through the bright reflection of the snow and focus on making my way to the first of the trading areas.

Its a long trek through the snowfields, and downhill. You end up tying two scarfs around your face, one for your mouth, and the other to shield your eyes. Miles pass, and you wonder just how accurate the map is, and if Loki really wants to help you, or if he just got rid of you at the first convenient point.  You have a lot of time for thinking, and some pretty crazy thoughts rattle around in your brain in the brilliant isolation.

Other times, you just trek, in a near mindless trance.

A stop for lunch, and you heat some soup on a stove with snow as your water supply. It restores you, and you are a bit surprised at how run down you had gotten in your morning walk. You resolve to take it a bit slower, with more breaks.

You're still heading downhill, and inside NYC.  But in the far distance, you think you might be able to see Lady Liberty.  Which is good news for the map.

PT

Slurping on my little bowl of warmed soup, I ponder what the best course of action may be and I tend to nagging questions about the little trek that I was sent on.

"What if Loki was really just brainwashing these folks; hypnotizing them to get them to do his own work?  What if there are not even 'any' Asgardians at all?"  The questions roll back and forth, bumping into pieces of logic from time to time and slowly helping me make some decisions.

"No, it's one thing to hypnotize a few individuals, it's another thing entirely to get people to swear they saw people and attacked people.  This can't all be make believe.  There must be others out here somewhere."  With cold hands I fumble with the map, making sure I'm still on the right track.

"I'll trek for another half day at least before I really need to make up my mind as to whether to turn around or not.  He 'could' very well be telling me the truth."  Slurping the last of my soup down with some regret I stand up and pack my gear away, preparing myself mentally for the next part of my trek towards the camps.

You trek onward and downward coming into an area of thick crust snow on top of powdery snow which half-inch ice/snow crust you have to break with your legs. Its hot and sweaty work, and your feet don't get great traction slipping an inch or two constantly, and soon your thighs are burning.

You wonder if you should try to go around to the west or the east, or even if you should venture to lay atop the toboggan's load, and ride it down.

Or just press on, and count it as a massive Stairclimber workout?

PT

Taking yet another of my now more frequent breaks, I stop and gaze down at the sled dragging my equipment.  It is a tantalizing image, of me sliding carefree down a slope of snow with hundreds of pounds of gear pushing me along.  It could be dangerous, but it could also be a heck of a lot of fun.

"What have you got to lose here.  At the worst I wipe out and damage some the goods, which are not mine to begin with, or maybe hurt myself a bit.  It's snow so it's not that hard if I do fall off.  Might as well give it a try."

Bending down I drag the sled and point it in the general direction of where I want to go and then push down on it hard, curious as to whether it will hold my body weight or not atop the snow.  Since I don't weight a heck of a lot, the extra body weight shouldn't add too much to the already heavy load on the sled...

With a shrug I take a deep breath and then count to three aloud.

"1..."  I grab the top of the bundle of gear and pull the sled back and forth.

"2..."  Another pull back on the sled as I get ready...

"3!!!"  With a gigantic shove of my legs I begin to propel the sled forward and get ready to leap on top of it once it is going fast enough that I figure it will take my weight and still keep going.

You hurtle downward, the cold air bringing tears to your eyes.  This freezes on your cheeks, but a mile, and then another, and another pass under your toboggan in the space of ten minutes.

You come over a small hill, and see a mile beyond you is the harbor ice, scoured clean of snow by the wind in places, and dotted with fantastic snow drifts in others.

You also see a man, standing near your path, with his mouth hanging open.  try to stop, coast on, or what?

PT

The ride was much more fun then I had initially anticipated although it was also extremely cold on the exposed flesh.  After putting a few miles behind me though, it was clearly the best way to travel.

As I spied another individual on the path I immediately felt the urge to stop.  Perhaps this man would have some information on where I am going, or perhaps he could at least help clear up whether Loki and his gang were for real or not.

Dropping a leg down off of the side of the sled, I dug in into the snow in an atempt to slow the tomboggan down and try and stop where the individual is standing.

You dip your foot, and it skips a bit, so you dig in a bit further.  Then the toboggan goes up on its side.  You try to right it, but the moose meat is too loose,and starts to come out from under you, and then the whole thing flips.

You hit the snow on your back,and crash through a number of feet of it. The tobboggan crashes on further, but comes to a stop as well.

Laying on your back, just getting up, you can see a fifteen foot long trench you just dug in the snow, and the guy walking quickly up to you.

"Are you all right?!"

He is armed with a rifle on his back, and a pickaxe on his hip, and he has a backpack.

PT

Still shaking the cobwebs from my head I get my feet under me and carefully take stock of the situation.  The man in front of me, while armed, doesn't seem hostile at least.  The rifle is slung over his back, so he doesn't seem too threatened by my appearance.

"Well..." I take a moment to mentally scan my own body, checking for any odd bumps or bruises, but gladly don't find anything immediately.  "I think I'm alright although that was certainly not the most gracious of stops now was it."  I glance up a bit to see what kind of shape the sled is in.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to say the same for my sled, I certainly hope it's not damaged."  I turn my attention away from the sled and back towards the man, smiling in an attempt to set him at ease.

"My name's Derek, and I seem to be a little bit disorientated, any idea where I am right now?  It's odd to see someone out here all by themselves."

You feel okay after you walk a bit, and better after you check out the toboggan.  Its sturdy,and other than tradegoods scattered about, and one minor scratch, undamaged.  Apparently it takes quite a bit to wreck a wooden toboggan.

"I'm Roger Bainbridge, former stockbroker, and now salvager par excellence.  I have a nose for finding  stuff that other people overlooked.  Glad I met you.  You're a trader right? Well, I and my folk have a small encampment a mile to the east of here.

We'll give you the standard free meal and a bed in exchange for news and a story, and then we can get down to serious trading, whatdya' say?"

PT

Relieved that the gear is undamaged, and equally relieved that I ran across someone relatively sane as far as I could tell, I feel a little bit better about my circumstances.

"That sounds like a fair deal to me, I've been travelling for a while and it will be nice to get a bit of a break for a few minutes.  Ny name's Derek."  I jab out my hand, assuming that a handshake is still a customary way of greeting someone.

"Hopefully we can find a few things that interest you, I know that I would love to have a chance to ask you a few questions myself."

He shakes your hand.

And then he helps you get packed back up, taking an interest in the tools, and once you are ready, he leads you across the snowfield eastward.  About three-fourths of a mile away, he yells out a few words as he faces the back of a semi-truck trailer.

"Klaatu Verada Niktu!"  And then he grimaces to you.  "Our chief was a movie critic for the New York Sun so he always picks passwords from the old movies."

Several guys open up the back doors of the trailer, with weapons out, which is two spears, and a flare pistol.  They greet you gladly, while at the same time very quickly ushering you into the trailer.  From the trailer, which is empty except for defensive breastwork of ice, you go down a slide cut into its belly, and into a tunnel of ice which leads you out to a small ice tunnel village with perhaps twenty-five inhabitants.

PT

The amount of work and time that has gone into the ice village impresses me and for a few moments I just stare from building to building nodding my head slowly.

"You've done a great job putting this place together here, I must say I'm impressed.  How do you keep yourselves warm amidst all of this ice though?"  I pull my hat tighter over my head, making sure that my ears are covered up nicely.

"So, I'm offering really good prices on anything I have with me today, simply make me an offer and we can go from there."

In truth I actually have no clue what good prices are so anything they will offer me will be a 'good price'.  I glance at Roger and wait for direction on where we are to go for discussion and trading.  "I have some news for you as well, but I'd much rather find a nice comfortable spot to chat for a while before we get into it."

OOC:  Was this the direction you had planned with this storyline?  It must be a fun challenge to just make stuff up as players make decisions that were unplanned or just plain odd.

"We use much the same techniques as did the Inuit.  We have igloo structures, although a bit more complicated than that, with bigger 'air locks' and internal support beams.  Its actually pretty warm inside, enough that we have to keep a close eye on the temperature so as to not melt the walls and have water dripping down our backs."

He takes you inside, and sits you on a couch made of ice, and covered with a scrap of carpet.  You have to take your coat and outer gear off.  The temp is about sixty-five.

He gets you a bowl of soup, and then follows it with some very spicy meat strip and onion dish, and a cup of hot tea.  After you've recovered, he takes you into the Great Hall.  Its two semi-trailers tipped over on their sides, braced internally, and then padded with about ten feet of snow.  Its cooler in here, and most people don coats, although they don't button them up.

"My friends, I met a trader." your companion says to the group of twenty-one (which includes the children). "We've fed him, and now he is here to tell us news of the outside world, and a story."

There's a general air of relaxation.  In a world without TV, entertainment is what you make it, and you're now Tom Brokaw and Jon Stewart rolled into one.

OOC: I'm way over on the bell curve toward improvisational.  Sometimes it causes problems when I run out of knowledge of a topic, or I'm trying to balance things which tumble, and it makes for less thematic adn artistic stories, but I like it better.

The techniques involved in creating such a warm space in a world where ice and cold dominates, while simple, are still quite impressive.  The chill air of the 'Great Hall' reminds me of the reality of my situation and as I see the group of people in front of me, a lump forms in my throat.  Public speaking is not really my forte.

"Well...umm...I'm not sure what news you would like from me.  I am quite new to the trading world and this is really my first trip out into the ice and snow to try and see what I can find out for myself."  I took a glance at a few of the individuals, attempting to guage whether they were dissapointed or nonchalant about my lack of tales to tell.

"What I can say is that I am on my way to try and find the College, where a group of people who call themselves the Asgardians are rumoured to reside.  I am on a mission to try and bring about a peace treaty between them and another group of individuals who call themselves the Jotuns.  I am hoping that I can prevent some kind of skirmish from happening between the two parties."  It wasn't quite the truth, but who knew whose "side" this group of people might be one, or what they might already know about my situation.

"That's about all I have right now.  However, if you are looking for a good story from the past, I can certainly give you one of those.  What type of talem would you like to hear?"

I hoped that my lack of 'real' news could be compensated for by a story from the 'old world' which would have been my own time.  My own time...

The words seemed odd now that I thought about them again.  I had become so consumed with survival that I had almost forgotten the complete impossibility of the situation I was in.  Already months had passed since I had last been back home...

"So what do think?  I also have some questions for you, about the Jotuns and the College folks, but perhaps those would be best for another time?"

OOC:  Hah what fun!  Well I am thoroughly enjoying this storyline, even though I've no real idea where it's going to end up.  I'm a big fan of these end of the world scenarios.

They think that it is a brave and noble thing to try, risking your life to bring needed supplies by wandering all alone in the ice.  And you can tell they are probably going to be a little nicer to you since you're a rookie.

A burst of clapping rings out at the notion of a peace treaty.  The crowd looks enthused.

"Trader, I'm here to tell you that the two most powerful groups in the area are them at the College, and that cra...ah educated fellow at the Chrysler Tower.  If they can quite wasting time killing each other, maybe we can save a few more people before it gets really cold."  The gent talking is an ancient looking black man with a seamed and lined, but kindly and knowing face. "After dinner, you come by the Chief's apartment. We'll talk, and fill you in on what we know."

The children start yelling for a story.  "Monsters!" "Dinosaurs!"  "On a tropical island."  "Yeah, someplace warm."

OOC: Thanks and kewl, and I have another End of the World one after this, which is massively different from the first two, even if set in teh same time, roughly.

PT

I smile as the kids yell out random shouts of suggestions.  Having read a number of books in my life, and of course seen many movies I picked through a collection of pop culture to try and find something that might appeal to this little group of people.  Knowing that I would finally have a chance to find out some more information later tonight I am able to relax and enjoy myself.

"Well, know here's a story you might like.  It's a tale of a pirate ship, and the cursed men who man it.  It's a story of love, of betrayal and of good old fashion treasure hunting!"  The film of "Pirates of the Carribean", though it seems so empty and hollow compared to this scene of survival, begins to roll through my head and I start to spit out the tale, doing my best to be dramatic and exciting.

OOC:  Great, well when this one is over I look forward to heading through the next world as well, that is if you are still up for it.

It takes a few minutes to get into the swing of things, and a few spots just have them blinking at you in perplexity, but on the whole you have them clustered about you, and leaning forward.  And at teh point where the Captain reveals he is now cursed, they gasp.

As soon as you get done, the food is brought out for dinner.  They laugh and tell you that the soup was "merely to warm you so you don't get weak."  Dinner is plain, but substantial.  And you surprise yourself by reaching for a fat laden moose roast, and without thinking about it, scarf in the fat first.

The talk is cheerful, and the room is dim with tea candles from "Before" and a fireplace as light.  They show no inclination to get up from the table, and everyone eats hearty.  They encourage you to eat a lot as well.

One of the hunters brought in a moose today.  A temporary pall falls over the conversation as a hunter mentions that its getting harder to find food.  But then the leader shrugs.

"It is Mankind's Wyrd.  Our choices that led us, and the only thing to do is to enjoy what life God has graciously spared us until the Long Cold."

PT

The food in my mouth suddenly feels less appetizing as the stark reality of the situation these people are in hits back hard.  They are living in a world now encased in ice and with food supplies running out.  It wouldn't be long before they would eventually have no choice but to try and find other ways to find food, ways that might be less then noble.

I push what is left of my food away from me and turn my eyes towards the table, thinking for a few moments.  Without looking up I speak.  "I am sorry, but I am no longer hungry.  I feel bad for eating all of what I have from you good people.  If at all possible I would like to speak with you sir, before it gets too late, and we all get too tired."  I nod my head towards the Chief and look up at him from behind my plate of food.

The table stops, and the tall, lean fellow at the end of the table, with the keen eyes, the "Chief" nods thougtfully.

"Why don't the children get the dessert, m'kay?" The surprisingly obedient children scramble up, followed by a lady, and an obiously crippled man.
"Its a kind thought.  But we have a theory what is going to happen.  In a month, a year, or five years, the last of the heat bubbles at the equator are going to disperse, according to teh scientists at Asgard College.  And temperatures will drop another good bit, I'm not sure how much, but we don't think it will be survivable.  It could well be that we freeze to death in our sleep tonight.

Game is scarcer than we might like, but we've moved the camp several times, and while it is decreasing, but we think its likely the cold will get us first.  So we have a choice to make.  Plan on an unlikelihood, and scrounge and scourge our last days to get some more time, or eat hardy and enjoy the company of friends for tommorrow we may well meet our Maker."

He shrugs, and the others nod with varying degrees of sombre faces.  One woman pats you on the hand.

PT

I look down at the floor, a look of confusion on my face.  "How could people just give up like this?" I think.  Raising my head I take in a breath and decide to divulge a little bit more information then I had originally intended.

"Well now that we are a smaller gorup, I must be honest with you.  I was actually sent by Key and his cronies to go spy on the others at the college.  I am a newcomer to this area and they took me in, saying I was some kind of god.  At first I didn't know what to think but I used a story about going to gain information on the college folks to get out of there.  I am quite worried that the two groups are going to war, and there isn't anything I can do to stop it, that's for sure."  I glance about the room looking for signs of mistrust or anger on the small community member's faces, but forge ahead.

"I had no idea that the situation was as bad as you say, it would seem to me that there must be some way of fixing the weather disturbances, or at least getting out of the area and to a warmer climate."  I glance out the door and lean back in my chair, sighing.

"I want to help people, not get involved in some stupid war at a time like this.  Do you have any information that might aid me in trying to find a solution to our problems, or what could you tell me about the college folks?"

They look surprised and a bit skeptical, but they are still talking to you.

"Trader, this is a warmer climate. Well except for the equatorial storm zone.  What with the Ring of Fire volcanoes, which until now had been a curse, including Mount Hudson which is still churning out lava, it keeps the New York-Philly area warm. Some people live near Mount Hudson, and there's even people supposedly alive on the Philly Harbor Spout, but given the choice between fire and ice, I'll take ice.

The College still has electricity, and coal heaters. They have the best technology of anyone I know of. They don't just let anyone in, though.  You have to have skills they want.  Of course, they let traders visit, but only for a week.

We agree this war is stupid.  But Loki is no one to trifle with.  If you want to help us, you can try to get Anne-Marie and Joseph Paul to be members of the Select.  That is the one going on the rocket that the college is building to the Valhalla Space Station.  They are very smart kids, our smartest, and we train them every day in all sorts of useful skills."  The last is said with a kind of quiet, but dignified desperation.

PT

I think about the offer for a few moments, tossing the idea of training a few people to try and get up to the Space Station.  It occurs to me that that might be my own best bet as well, and perhaps it would be better if I was able to try and convince the college folks that I would be a good fit.

"The idea of trying to get these two young folks aboard Valhalla is a good one indeed.  Have they already had the chance to meet with the College folks and offer their skills?  What kind of skills are they looking for?"  I think about my days back with the Chinese and Americans and can't help but think that many of the things I learned there would be of great value to the College, although I don't know anything about how to build a rocket.

"It is best if I get myself to the College anyways.  Who knows if Loki has been keeping tabs on me out here and making sure that I do indeed make my way to the College like I said I would.  As far as I understood they were planning on attacking the College...well...tomorrow."  I think hard for a moment and then slowly shake my head.

"No matter, if Anne-Marie and Joseph Paul would like to accompany me to the College then they would be most welcome, I do not know the way very well as it is.  Perhaps they are not ready yet though and I understand that.  I would like to leave some of these supplies here for you for free, they are no good to me anyways.  Please take what you wish, but leave me some to trade once I get to the College, so that at the very least I can make it inside for a time."

I feel suddenly very tired and without much struggle a yawn erupts from my mouth.  "It is time I get to bed as well, I will think more about this tonight and then in the morning I will be on my way.  It has been a pleasure spending some time with you, especially after having boarded with Loki and the rest of the crazies there."  I smile.  "Thank you for your hospitality, it is appreciated in a world like this."

They bid you goodnight, and the salvager who you met at first takes you back to a sleeping chamber.  The "bed" is ice plus padding.  You sink into it, and are asleep before you realize it.

The next morning, a breakfast of stew with potatoes, and the two children are presented to you to take with you to the college.  They each have small sleds loaded with food mostly.

The local group took some of the wrenches, but left most of them, and a few other things.

They also show you a much better map than Loki's offhand sketch.

PT

I thank my hosts profusely as they send me on my way back out into the cold and towards who knows what future.  "They are good people," I can't help but think to myself.  "I hope that I can help them in some small way."

I was dreading being back in the viper's nest, with the politics, the technology and the warmongering.  It had been a very unusual relief to be immersed in a situation where technology and power were not overwhelming forces that controlled everyone's lives.  It had been so long since I had experienced that and I had missed it.

It was time now to look ahead and as I packed up the remainder of my trade goods and double-checked that my own personal gear was still around, I threw a couple questions out to my two new travelling companions.

"So you two, tell me a little bit about yourselves.  We have time to chat while we are on the road, and I would love to hear more about what you have to offer in the way of skills.  Who knows, maybe we can teach each other a thing or two on the way there eh?"  I smiled, hoping to help the kids feel at ease around me and to make the trip a little less stressfull.

OOC:  This should be interesting...

The kids are both shy, but you talk to them a bit, and suddenly Anne-marie opens up.

She starts talking, and doesn't stop until Josesph points out that she's going to get dehydrating talking so much.

"My name is Anne-Marie, I am twelve years old, and the smartest kid in my holding.  All the adults say so.  I know gymnastics which should be useful in micro-gravity.  Plus, I can calculate arithmetic, calculus, trigonometry, orbital dynamics, and I can read binary code.
I can also take a computer apart and put it back together again."

Then she proceeds to demonstrate her aptitudes by talking you through various math problems, and explaining just how you take a PC apart.  Its an hour before Joseph says something to her.

She's bright, chipper, a good student, teacher's pet type, but the fear lurks underneath.  Joseph is more dour, and skeptical.

"They say I'm good with my hands." He shrugs, and takes out a wooden handled dagger, and spins it at teh balance point of its hilt on the tip of his finger.  "Seems stupid to me."

PT

The genuine nature of both of the kids is a welcome addition to the past few months of political maneuvering, watching what I say and now war.  To simply hear the kids speak and talk like normal human beings is like inhaling fresh air.

"I wouldn't say it's stupid, in fact it could be far more useful then you think.  Do you have a natural affinity for fixing things as well?  That could come in real handy in a pinch , especially considering they are trying to send a few people up and out into space."

I glance over to the young girl, smiling as I speak.

"And you, well who wouldn't want someone who could crunch numbers in their head?  It's very useful I'm sure.  I certainly hope we can get both of you onto that ship if at all possible."  I went quite again, returning back to my thoughts of what I will do when I get to the College.

"If only they would put their energies into trying to solve the problem of the dying world instead of trying to figure out how to escape it.  And this war, how incredibly stupid can people be...it was war that caused all of this in the first place."  I bring my gloved hands up to my chest and them around me, hugging some warmth into my body as we trek along the snow.  "I will have to be careful what I say around this crew, particularly with Loki's spies in the midst of these folks."

My mind wanders upon a few different topics for a time as we trudge through the cold snow until I finally decide to ask the kids if they know where we are going...

After the Peace and its dark shadow Despair, and the hopeless Madness of the Chrysler Tower fomented by its Enchanter Leader, talking with courageous and well-brought up children is a definite blessing to a wounded spirit.

Even as the cold seeks to crawl in to your tightly tied jacket to escape from itself, you feel your tensions easing a notch, and then two.

Josesph nods.

"Its easy.  People make like putting together a machine is some hard thing or something."  He looks scornful. "Truth to tell, I think they just are lazy.  Could be tired.  Running around outside hunting moose is hard work.  Fun though."

"Watch. I'm going to close my eyes."  He does, and Anne Marie squeals fearfully.

He then tosses the knife up, flipping it over and over, and you note he's counting the flips even with his eyes closed, and then he reaches out, and grabs it by the hilt without cutting himself.

"YOu are not supposed to do that!"  Anne Marie says outraged.

When you compliment Anne Marie, she just nods like a queen, accepting her due.

"Where are we going?" Anne Marie responds to your question.  She then gives a fearful look to Joseph who says.
"We thought you knew." in doleful tones of shock.
"Oh no, we're lost." Anne Marie says pathetically.  And then looking out of the corner of your eye you see her biting her lip to keep from laughing while Joseph is hiding his face, and his shoulders are shaking.

PT

I could see that they were having a little bit of fun at my expense and so I decided to offer a litle tit for tat.

"Well if you don't know where we are going I guess I'll just have to take us back the way I am familiar with.  I am sure that Loki and his brothers will welcome us back with open arms."  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around, putting a hand up to my forehead as if to scout the path back behind us.

OOC:  My fiscal year end is over and I no longer need to be stressed.  Yeah!

"LOKI!!"  They both yell.  Anne Marie grabs your arm.  "No, Loki is crazy. Everyone says so."

Joseph just looks at you, and then speaks pretty definitely, until he offers his services as a guide.

"Not a good idea. bad idea. Um, fact is, I think I could probably find our way to the College."

"Yeah, it shouldn't be hard."  Anne Marie says trying to draw you to turn around.

PT

I lower my hand from my forehead, a smirk crossing my lips and I slowly turn around to face the kids.

"Well, I guess, if you think you know where we are going.  I suppose we could give it a try."  I smile wider now and then giggle a little bit, hoping that the kids catch on I was just kidding with them.

"Let's make some trails then, we have a lot of ground to cover before we get to the College I am guessing.  I'd like to get there before it gets too dark if possible."

They both giggle in relief, and soon you all are laughing uproariously.  You recognize its a relief from the constant tension for all of you, but it feels good.

The day passes smoothly at first as you cross the harbor, and then just past the shadow of Lady Liberty, in the midst of a maze of wind-shaped fantastical snow drifts, you see a polar bear meander around a drift fifty feet in front of you.  It stops, and then starts sniffing.

PT

I stop suddenly, as soon as the polar bear comes into view.  Instantly I drop to the ground, lying as low to the snow as possible.

"Kids, get down!" I whisper, as loud as I dare.

Even as I see the polar bear sniffing at the ground I try and find somewhere nearby where there might be some cover.  A snowdrift, an abandoned building, anything that might hide, or even better, completely shelter, us from the polar bear.

"That thing looks like it might have caught our scent, we best be trying to find a way to hide."

They drop as soon as you command it.  Hard living has taught them the wisdom of listening to sudden imperatives.

The bear looks over your way, pauses, and continues to step forward with all his massive weight on the harbour ice, which you also rest on.  Before you, and to your right is a small, snowdrift, etched chiascuro and fantastic, as if it was a great ship in flight, now miniaturized.

Around you are a number of other oddment drifts, here and there, and then towering higher are the grand drift islands on the ice which go up three stories some of them.  Still higher, and perhaps a tenth of a mile distant, you can see the base of Lady Liberty.

Looking about in the opposite direction, you can see the Jersey shore miles distant, and you ignore the line of your travel for the bear is in it, and wait, ah toward the right there had been something.  A bright yellow and purple flag in the midst of one of the larger drifts a hundred yards off.  Looking more closely at the drift, you see it is yacht entombed in the snow, a beautiful white bird whose only color is the dark windows of the pilot house, and  that flag.  It looks to be about fifty feet in length.

PT

I am not survival expert, and it would be a lie to say that I have had a run in with a polar bear in the past, but somehow my instincts seems to yell at me to get out of the area as quickly as possible.  As the bear distracts itself with whatever it is poking at, I glance over at the two children, their bodies lying on the ground as still as sculptures.  I turn my head once more toward the yacht and then to the bearm preparing myself for what I must do.

"Ok you two," I whisper.  "Here's the plan."  I am suddenly aware once more of how cold I am lying on the snow and not moving.  "I am going to get up and get the attention of the polar bear over there, and try and lead him away from that yacht over there."  I point in the direction of the flag, hoping that the two children will see it and know what I am talking about.  "I am going to try and make it for the Lady Liberty, there may be somewhere for me to hide near it.  I want you two to make a break for the frozen boat once I am far enough away from you two."

I look at the two children, and then smile.  "You will need to run very fast and if I can't make it back to you then you will need to carry on towards the college all on your own.  I am sure that I will hear about your voyage to the stars soon enough!"

With that I leap up into the air and begin to bolt for the Lady Liberty, hoping that I can keep sure footing on the icy fields beneath me.  As I run I begin to yell at the bear, hoping to get its attention...

OOC:  I'm not entirely familiar with where everything is that you pointed out, but I am guessing that the Lady Liberty is far enough away from the yacht that this plan has a chance of working.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:17, Tue 18 Oct 2005.

The children differ in their reactions, Joseph fixes his gaze on your face, and nods.  Anne Marie bleats in denying distress, but you give them no time to argue.  Springing up even as part of your mind howls at you to stop this foolishness right now, this very instant...

You yell, and jump up and begin to run across the scoured ice.

"Hey ugly, yeah you! Catch me if you can."

You barely hear the children going the other direction behind the drift, and hidden from the bear's first glance in the sudden wind.  Inside, you curse it as it seems to blow fine particles into your face.

The bear gives a startled snort, as if to say "Whaaaaat???", and then it grunts, and begins to pursue you.  You find a sudden turn of speed you didn't know you had.

You've ran nearly to the banks of Ellis Island, a small flat island in the midst of the harbour ice, which holds up Lady Liberty, and you can see that its not likely you'll make it to the door of the small buildings at the bottom of the Lady.

Your lungs are acting strange, each breath seems to come slower.  You do have a weird gun, and possibly other supplies.  The bear is close behind, and with his claws he is not so hindered by slipping on ice.

OOC: I decided to roll a 3d10 for a GE roll on this critical moment, and thus allow myself a wide array of outcomes.  You got twenty which is slightly on the bad side, but it could easily have been a lot worse.  Of course, it could have been a lot better too.  But the song is not yet finished, so we shall see.

PT

As my lungs begin to burn and my legs slow and it is only in that moment of realising I will likely be torn to pieces by a hungry polar bear, that I finally remember the gun I had brought with me earlier.

I skid to a halt and instantly begin jamming my hands into pockets, searching frantically for my weapon and hoping I had not left it back in the sled...

OOC:  What fun!  This ought to be very interesting.

Okay, taking on a polar bear with a pistol is generally a losing proposition, but then it is fine quality weapon made by an evil empire in the year 2030.  Its a lot more dangerous than a cop's 9mm.

You spin about, instinctively shoving the damage selector to max, and crouching shoot the first shot.  There's no loud roar, just a supersonic crack like a huge whip came down in front of you as a tiny pellet gets accelerated to ten thousand feet per second by electromagnetic coils.

Two more hypersonic pellets rapidly follow, but it only enrages the bear despite the sudden blood flowers on his chest.  He reaches you, and before you can spin aside a claw rakes you across the chest, and flips you into the air to crash skidding across the ice.

Barely conscious, you retain your pistol, but are spread-eagled face down on the ice as you slow to a halt.  The bear is roaring his anger out.

PT
OOC: another worse die roll.  But I'll be putting a @1 bonus to your pistol use as this counts as a new use, for sure.

The pain from the polar bear's slashing attacks at my body courses through my body leaving me with very little on my mind aside from survival.  But for only the briefest of moments I wonder if the children have found a way into the frozen yacht, but the thought is quickly interrupted by another claw being raked across my chest.

Hoping that a few well placed shots might give me some kind of slim chance of living through the attack I jab the gun under my armpit and try and aim for where I think the creature's head 'might' be.  As the giant bear continues its barrage I let loose as many shots as I can at once, hoping the barrage of high powered shots will save me from what is likely to be a very painful death.

The pellets slam into it, as quickly as your finger can pull the trigger, and you think one shattered its jaw, it rears back, out of easy line of fire, and you know that this is it.  Its going to drive its weight down on you, snapping bone, and crushing muscle.

"Rraaaarraghgh!" You hear, followed by a wet thunk.  It doesn't matter.  You've done good in this world.  The children should reach safety just fine. Time seems to float by as you drift away.

"Friend, bravest thing I ever saw." You see a man, with a commanding appearance, a full white head of hair, and a beard, like an Old Testament prophet, and with one eye behind a patch.  "Stay with us.  Bravery like that shouldn't be unrewarded.  Keep living, friend."

For some reason, perhaps hallucination, you seem to see a raven sitting on each of his shoulders.  And then you are lifted...the world goes away in a shriek.

=========================================================================

You wake, weak, pained, but warm in a soft bed with a white coverlet over you.

PT

Gingerly I open my eyes, the feel of the soft linens light on my chest.  Beneath the blankets I bring a hand up and feel for the gouges on my chest, wondering to myself if that was a dream and I was back in the armed forces...or perhaps back at home.

As my eyes flicker open I take a look around the room that I am in, not wanting to sit up quite yet to try and avoid making the pain in my body any worse.

The room is small, with no windows, and tightly constructed, but neat as a pin.  A small electric light bulb provides illumination.

A few minutes later, an attractive young woman, conscious of her authority, and evidently a nurse from the way she greets you, strides into the room.

"Well," She greets you by your name. "You're awake. Very good. Want some water. Yes. Good. Drink it all. Thank you."

She gives you a small sip of water which helps considerably.

"I'm going to leave this jug here, and I want you to drink and drink. You lost a lot of fluids.  But there was no infection, and the wounds closed so I think we're okay there.  Now if you have any quick questions, I'll be glad to answer them.  Otherwise, I need to be off to tell the President O'Donnell you are awake."

PT

I know I am in bad shape when something as simple as water tastes so so good.  I nod just slightly as the lady orders me to drink some water and I follow her commands without hesiation.  Between sips it suddenly occurs to me that O'Donnell is the name of the man at the college that I was trying to get to.  Without regard for my injuries I suddenly try and sit up.

"The children...uhh...Anne-Marie and the other one...the boy.  Are they ok?  Did you see them?  Did they make it to the college alright?"  I blurt out a few quick questions, wondering whether my attempt at taking out a polar bear by myself had in fact helped the kids at all, or if it was just a waste of time.

"Sit, no lay down. Now! You want to kill yourself? Undo all my hard work?!"  She snarls at you until you lay down, and then composes herself staring at the wall while you wait anxiously.

"The children are both fine. They are living in the Trainee's Dorms, at least for now. They were checked over by a real doctor, and both are fit and uninjured, except the male child bruised his left hand, but not severely when he climbed into the boat."

Her attitude toward the children seems colder than you would expect, but you see no signs of lying.

"It was extraordinarily brave of you, and perhaps you will receive the kiss of the Valkyrie."  She sweeps out of the room, and thinking later you recall her pin on her blouse had a blonde-haired sword-wielding winged woman on it.

As I lay back down on my bed, I close my eyes and take in a few deep, but painful breaths of air.  My lady visitor had been quite forceful in her insistance that I lay back and relax and for good reason.  My body felt as if it had just been mauled by a bear, and this time I was not lying.

As I tried to let my body rest and recover I took some time to just think upon my circumstances.  It had been a hectic...what...few days?  How long had it been since I had found myself in this harsh cold world, forced to try and forget about my circumstances and just survive?  I still had no idea what had happened to me, no idea whether I was living some kind of incredibly lucid dream or if something else entirely more strange had occurred.  I had not spent the time thinking about what I had lost for too long and as I laid on my bed, the reality of having...nothing, hit me hard.

I felt a few tears in my eyes, and then a pain in my gut as the worry I had been pushing down inside of me suddenly revealed itself.  With a flurry of movement I rolled over to my side and began to vomit, the pain in my body getting worse and I became sick to my stomach while thinking of where I was and what my life had become.

Suddenly strong arms are holding you as you heave up the rest of whatever was left in your stomach.  Harsh acids burning your throat force you to stop, and then a smooth hand wipes your mouth.

O'Donnell flips you on your back, and the nurse, who bears a startling resemblance to him, steps back with a stained hankerchief.

She is about to lay into you, when O'Donnell looks at you with his one bright, good eye while raising one hand to halt her oncoming tirade.

"War is a horrible thing, Mr. Doulos. So is getting sick.  Both are liable to tear a man up in his head and his heart.  Unfortunately some things are worse than war, and getting dead is worse than struggling to recover."

He pauses weighing you with his one good eye, and you feel like he understands you more than some people you have spent years with.

"I still say that was the bravest thing I've ever seen.  And then finding out that the children were not even yours.  You went to near certain death in a particularly horrible form when you didn't have to.  I can't offer you a place among the Selected, only the Selectors, or as some call them, the Valkryrie, can do that, but I can give you a place in the college."

PT

"Well thank you.  I appreciate the kind words, but I am just glad that the children are safe."  I open my eyes a little wider and stare out at the man speaking to me as I lay in bed.

"I must admit I don't have the slightest idea what you are talking about when you are speaking about Valkyries, Selectors and the like.  This bed is the warmest I have had in quite some time and a place in the college, if I understand correctly, is not something to be scoffed at."  I turn my head and look around the room once more, interested in who else may be listening to the conversation.

"What are the expectations from me if I am to stay here.  I did have a fair sized load of gear to trade, and in truth I was on my way here before we ran into the polar bear.  But I am not sure where my gear is now.  I could perhaps..."  I pause for a moment, thinking about my words.  "...Perhaps offer you a trade of some valuable information about a certain Lowell Key, in exchange for a few days rest here at the College?"

There are six other people crowded into the room.  The nurse, President O'Donnell, an obvious aide-male, a man in a white coat who could be your doctor, and two others, both somehow academic, both females.

"We recovered your gear, and it indeed, the partial Craftsmen tool sets will be very helpful. The moose meat is not such a big deal, but it helps.  We will have to talk payment some other time."

He hands you a receipt showing they've received your stuff.

"And we'd be happy to take any information about a certain renegade professor.  But there's something else, we'd like to discuss."  He has the aide check the hall for anyone listening.

Then he pulls out your pistol, your papers from 2030, and other bits of incriminating evidence.

"I'd think this the work of a madman, forgeries from 'the future', but I saw you with a pistol kill a polar bear. Granted, I had to finish it with my spear, but it was already dying.  We recovered one pellet, the rest ripped through it.  My best gunsmith says that to do the kind of damage that micro-pellet did, the thing must have been going at least 7000 feet per second.  We can't do that with a rifle.  So...."

PT

I sigh deeply, the wounds on my body aching as I take in a few deep breaths.  I close my eyes for a moment, contemplating how I am going to get myself out of this mess...

"Well, I don't quite have a good answer for you.  At least not one that you will believe.  The truth of it is I was from that time and that weapon was as well.  Somehow I ended up here when an experiment went really badly during our time."  I eye the President, knowing that what I am saying is likely not going to be received all that well.

"Now you can choose to believe that or, if it suits you better, you can try and find some other way to explain it.  That weapon is incredibly powerful, as you witnessed, and so you have to admit that there is some credibility to my story."

There's some quick back and forth between them, until the doctor clears his throat.

"A sick man's hospital room is not a debating chamber, gentlemen and ladies."

They quiet.

"One problem we have with that is that its well over a decade to the time your documents claim.  We don't think there will be any humans alive then, at least on Earth, much less that they would have invented a totally new system for using a gun.  That would require a seriously powerful science and research establishment...which no one has."  President O'Donnell says slowly with his eyes focused on you.

PT

As the Professor chats a pain begins to grow in the temples of my head, an aching pain associated with stress and not due to my run in with the polar bear.

"There is another option gentleman, and one that I can scarce believe myself, and I have been living it.  What I am about to tell you is past believeable and it will take some time to explain."  I pause for a moment, waiting for any important interuptions, and then begin, starting from the accident on my computer until now...

They stare at you with expressions ranging from intense curiosity to fervent wonder to one, an unintroduced male professor in the back rank of the group who turns away, and then turns back to eye you with heavy-lidded contempt.

"Absolutely fascinating." President O'Donnell says when you finish. "It holds up hope that the human race still survives in other dimensions, and yet it also points out that the turn at the beginning of the twenty-first was a time beset with grave dangers. Which we discovered as the nuclear war over Kashimir spread to a more general thing, and then to nuclear winter."

"Absolute garbage! Rubbish!" The other man pushes himself forward with hands clasped on his coat lapels, and his face red.  "This uneducated twit stole an advanced weapon from some secret government lab of you Americans, buried in the snow, and now he seeks to show himself as the ninth wonder of the age."

"Mr. Doulos, may I present, Professor and Lord, Sir Timothy Hurt."  O'Donnell says softly.  "He was a visiting lecturer from Oxford when the Spasm began.  Taught in hydrodynamics,and fuel flows. Invaluable man, really, to the rocket project."

Still despite the warmth of the introduction, O'Donnell could have sounded more enthused.

PT

"Excuse me if I don't stand up to greet you Mr Hurt."  I smile lightly as I lay in the bed.  "As I said at the outset of my story, take it or leave it, it's up to you.  I would hope that you've seen enough of me to know that I am not mentally unstable, and that perhaps my words do have some weight."  I lay my head back on my pillow and close my eyes again, worrying little about the others in the room for a moment.

"Does it matter whether my story is true or not at the end of the day?  It doesn't change the fact that that gun is here now."  I open my eyes but do not raise my head, but instead look over towards the group of people standing in the room.

"I am getting quite tired from all of our discussions and I think Might be needing a little bit more pain medication if you have any.  But there is one last thing I would like to discuss with you Mr President, and it is quite important, so perhaps we could speak alone....?"

"Its Sir or Lord Hurt, or if you must, Dr. Hurt." He interrupts you, and then subsides.

O'Donnell ushers them out, and then pulls up a chair.  The nurse comes back, and gives you some pain pills with a little water.  Then she leaves with a stern warning.

"No more than ten minutes."

Once she's gone...

"I'm sorry about Hurt.  He really is a stuffed shirt.  But he also knows those fuel movement formulas down cold so I have to put up with him.  Let me say that I believe you.  Perhaps, I shouldn't, but I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and I don't think you were lying."

PT

I wave my hand and shake my head at the President's words.  "I am not too concerned about approval, from him or others.  I know what is true and not true.  What I really wanted to speak to you about is the man who calls himself Loki."  I eye O'Donnell and then continue.  "I understand that there is some kind of war, or feud that is going on between both of your groups.  I am worried that it is detracting too much from the most important issue, that of the destruction of the entire human race."  I sigh deeply and lay my head fully down into my pillow on my bed.

"Is there not some way that the two groups can come to an understanding, or at the very least a truce?  While your two factions play at war the entire fate of the world lies in balance.  There must be some other way..."

You see deep personal pain flicker in O'Donnell's good eye.

"I would like it, sir, but let me tell you of this world, from 'the most powerful man in the world'. "  He shakes his head, wondering how things got to such a mess that he is in charge.  "Professor Lowell Key, English Literature, a very talented fellow who would not have come to our small even if very reputable college, except he had some bad rumors floating around behind him.  Abusing students, mental breakdowns.  But I looked in his eyes, and trusted him."

"Then the Spasm. And the Winter."

"And Lowell starts getting twitchy.  When we don't agree with his theories, he breaks away. Forms his own group. Calls himself Loki.  Now he says that this is Fimbulwinter, and Ragnarok is coming where Odin, that's me, and the rest of the gods die along with humanity.  I don't know if he's lying, kidding himself, or if he actually believes this.  But it does give him a power base, and he makes frequent proclamations of the soon to be coming battle, but so far its just a fraud.

Now, I would like to see as much of humanity survive, on Valhalla Space Station as possible.  'Loki' thinks we should all die, or so he says.  If you can square that circle, you're a better man than me."

He rubs his beefy right hand through the thick white hair above his wide forehead, and shrugs like a mountain moving.

PT

I nod slowly, an understanding of the situation slowly sinking in.

"In truth, I was sent by Loki as a spy of sorts.  Although he did not know it, I had just wanted to get out of that place as fast as possible.  He seems to have an amazing amount of control over the people there and it is scary to think what he could command them to do if he wanted to.  I guess the biggest saving grace is that they lack enough serious technology to completely wipe us all out.  But be ready, for when I left they were planning an attack within days.  Or at least that's what they told me."  I look down at the ground and around the room, examing my sleeping quarters once more.

"I should get some rest, but perhaps later I can be of assistance to you in your efforts to build this rocket to the space station.  Maybe then I can prove that I am not just a crazy person to the others here.  I picked up a thing or two during my last ... stopover...?"  How to explain where I was going and coming from was still not easy.  "Perhaps I can lend a hand in exchange for the room and board you are providing.  I would also really love to see the children again and to be sure that they are getting along well."

"My friend, although the selecting of those who go on the spaceship is up to the nurses who is allowed on the college is up to me.  So welcome. You may stay as long as you keep trying to pull your own weight. We would be glad for your assistance.

Tommorrow, the children will come visit you. Now, the nurse is about to smack me, so I must leave."

He pats you on the shoulder, and then walks out.

The nurse comes in with some food. Chicken broth with a little mashed potatoes on the side, and some vitamin pills.

You eat, and find yourself surprisingly tired...

PT

With a full belly and a warm bed beneath me, I slip quietly into a restful sleep.  If I dreamt I did not remember it.  Each day was something new and draining and this new world I found myself in was proving to be efficient at sucking out the very like and excitement that I usually had for the world.  Hopefully tomorrow would bring a ray or two of optimism...

The next morning you wake up, feeling much better, and to the smell of cinnamon and oatmeal.  You hear the door close, and soft feet carry it over to your bed.  Sleepily you open your eyes, and there is Anne-Marie holding a bowl of cinnamon, sugar, and oatmeal.  Joseph is behind her, holding a tray, and a cup of hot tea, and your vitamins.

Anne-Marie is smiling so brightly its almost blinding while tears streak down over her face, and she sniffles.

"She was worried." Joseph says with a 'manly' shrug. "I was a bit too, but I knew you were tough."  You can see he's biting his lip, and hiding his face by turning it away from you.

Playtester

The concern of the two kids does wonders for a tired and downtrodden spirit and I can't help but smile at the two as they deal with the stress of the world they live in the best they can.

I grab the oatmeal and sprinkle some cinnamon into it, and thank Anne-Marie.  From Joseph I grab the tea and the vitamins and place them beside me, following it up with a quick rub of the young boy's hair.  "How have you two been doing here?  I hope that they have been treating you kindly and that you've been able to prove yourself useful.  I have no doubt that they have probably already decided to send you up to the space station!"

As I wait for the two to answer I begin to eat some of my food, realising how great something such as oatmeal tastes right now.

You eat the oatmeal, and they tell of such wonders as heated showers, and Anne Marie says she got to eat a carrot in the hydroponics area, and it was scrumptious!

Joseph is trying to get attached to the Mechanics shop, and Anne Marie is already in the Math group.

A few minutes later, and you are done.  The nurse comes in, and shoos them out.  Then she says to you that its time for you to climb into a wheelchair which will allow you to move around in the hospital.

PT

After bidding the children goodbye it is time to try and get myself up and about.    I had not realized how much of an effect laying in bed for that length of time would have, but once I attempted to swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up, the head rush quickly made me aware.

"Wow, I better be careful how quickly I try to do things..."  I take a moment to close my eyes and wait for the twinling stars to dissipate.  "It will be nice to get out of this room for a while and see where I have been staying."  I smile at the nurse, hoping that perhaps I can get her to do anything other then frown and snap at me.

She gives you a cautious smile back, before wheeling you out of the room.

"I shouldn't wonder, if you heal fully, that you'll get the Valkryie's Kiss, and be one of the Selected."  Evidently, if you're selected for a trip to space, you rank a small smile.

Once out in the hall, she takes you to a freight elevator.  Then she snaps at an aide to go get her a blanket.  The aide scurries off, and once back, your nurse tucks you in tight.

Then she takes you to the roof, through an airlock type thing, from which you can look out over Asgard Community College, and its forty foot tall ice wall surrounding the ten acres.  She points out the rocket building, which is the old gym.  And the dorm where the children are staying.

You see few people, and she explains that they have ice tunnels joining all the main buildings.

"Five minutes are about up." She says.

PT

The view from above is quite amazing and to see an entire civilized area now encased in snow and ice, while sad, is also a sight to behold.

At the mention of five minutes I cock my head and look up at the nurse, one eyebrow raising high on my forehead.  "Five Minutes of what are up?  I'm afraid I'm not sure what you mean?  Is this the only time outside of my room that we will have?"

The respite from the hospital room is refreshing and it was a little dissapointing that the trip was going to be so short.

"If it's a matter of you not having time, I don't mind wheeling myself around.  It would be nice to get out and about for a while, even if that meant using my own arm power to get me everywhere."

She wheels you back, and waits unneccessarily until you are in the elevator airlock to explain.

"Five minutes to be outside for the sick.  Its too cold out there.  But we will let you have a couple hours roaming the halls. In fact, the more you do, the better, as long as when you get tired you stop."

She takes you down to the common floor, which has around ten others active.  A couple guys are playing a game of chess.  Another is reading a book and chuckling.  You slide by on your own power to see whats so funny.

"The Coming Apocalypse: Global Warming, And What You Can Do About It!"  Is the book's title.

PT

With an inward snicker of my own I turn away from the book and wheel on over to the two players taking part in the chess game.  My eyes instantly begin scanning the surface of the board, examining it for who might be winning, possible moves and strategy in the current situation.  As I begin to absorb myself in the position, I almost, for a short time, forget my worries and fell slightly normal...

Another thirty minutes, and they finish up their game.  Then the man with a shock of black hair, and a crystalline quality to his gaze, along with a rough-hewn edge to his face turns to you.

He holds out his left hand, as you expected since he's minus his right, for you to shake.

"Jack Baldwin. Professor of Modern American History."  There is a forthright friendliness in his voice as he talks.  "Care for a game?"

The other man, a round, roly-poly sort with hair missing down the middle of his head, gets up to retrieve some hot teas as he said, and smiles at you before leaving.

"Watch out for Baldy here.  He's a killer with the gambit."

PT

I can't help but grin like a little kid at Christmas as I roll my wheelchair up towards the edge of the chess board, quickly beginning to set up pieces even as I accept the invitation to play a game.

"I'd love to give you a gane, although from watching you I'm not sure how much of a chance I'll have.  It's been some time since I've been able to really play.  Hopefully I'm not too rusty."  I continue to shuffle the pieces around, sticking them quickly into their starting positions.

"My name is Derek Hatch.  I've just arrived here along with a couple kids and a few random trading supplies.  I had a bit of a run in with a polar bear so I suppose I should be thankful I'm here at all."  I glance up at Baldwin and tilt my head to one side, eyeing him curiously.

"So you're a professor of Modern American History eh?  Based on the expression that history is doomed to repeat itself, did you see this time coming?"

It was a sraightforward question, but the professor seemed to be a straightforward kind of guy.

OOC:  I noticed that you have called me Doulos from time to time.  Actually that is just my login name.  When I created this character his name was Derek.  I don't care which you want to call me, but I suppose we should at least be on the same page...hah.

Your opponent begins with a daring, and seemingly careless opening strategy, and gives you a guileless smile.

Then he leans back and considers your question.

"Well, Modern American History had no such apocalypses, although there was no shortage of people professing to see one coming down the road.  I think many of them were right, but they underestimated the coping mechanisms available.  And then one day, those mechanisms did not work.

As to repeats, well, you have to go back to the quasi-mythical Alphan civilization, a high-technology society in pre-history to find a similiar level of apocalypse, although the collapse of the Roman Empire does for people too."

He studies you with an interested gaze.

PT

"Yes the Roman empire is a great example of this, and I wonder if this fall of mankind is not very much what the mythical Atlantis may have experienced.  Whether or not Atlantis really existed does not matter, the fall of that great society whether real or imagined does seem to be eerily echoed in this world today."  I shrug and then turn my atention back down towards the board, aware of my opponents cavalier attitude towards the game, but equally aware that often a sacrifice of material can equal a gain of initiative in chess.

"This is an interesting choice of openings here.  I have not played a challenging game of chess in some time."  As I sat and thought upon my move it suddenly occurred to me that I should be taking care what I say to individuals around the College.  I was not the only person sent to be a spy here and it is possible that Loki had communicated to his insiders here that I would be arriving.  I glanced up briefly at the Professor and smiled, wondering if he perhaps could be one of Loki's...

I grabbed a Bishop and retreated it a few squares along a diagonal, hoping to entice a counter-attack and have the Professor expose his KIng slightly and then lean back in my chair.

"Hmmm...I have a book here by a gentleman named Vukovic, or at least I did.  Perhaps I left it back in my room.  'The Art of Attack in Chess.'   Have you read it?"

OOC:  Where would most of my gear be stowed/carried?

"No, I have not.  I meant to.  Have you read 'The Rewards of Self-sacrifice?'"

He reaches out, and leaves a pawn vulnerable while partially getting a grasp on the centre spaces of the board.  He thinks with one hand clasped to the top of his head which makes him sorta look like he is bald, which may explain in part, his nickname of Baldy.

And then more quietly he speaks.

"I'm not one of Loki's people.  Even if I had been, after I lost my hand to the madman in our basement, I think I would have changed sides.  Its like this, last time Loki wanted my support, I listed all the arguements against him, and then said "Well thats one side, now, on the other hand, drat there isn't one, well I'd like to help you slaughter the rest of the human race, but you're a fruit." "

And you realize that in addition to the forthrightness, there is a keen intellect able to pierce through shadows behind those bright eyes, and something more that doesn't seem to fit in ordinary categories.

PT

I wait for a moment before breaking into a full smile, quickly bending down and gobbling up his vulnerable pawn, knowing that I have likely given him a little too much initiative.

"I'm not quite sure how you knew what I was thinking in that moment, but I was indeed wondering if you were one of Loki's pawns so to speak."  I hold up the now captured pawn in my hand, rolling it slowly between index and finger and thumb.

"I also needed a reason to get away from that madman and so here I am, now safe and warm in the College although a little worse for wear."  I cock my head to one side and stare at him directly in the eyes.  "So...how did you know what I was thinking just now?  Am I that easy to read?  If so this could be a very easy chess game for you."  I smile and then place the captured pawn in front of the board on my side of the table.

"Its not that you are particularly easy to read.  I'm not sure what it is, but some people I meet, I just know them.  The pschy teacher at the college says that I have an off-the-charts empathetic ability, but I don't know.  It only works with some people.  A Christian, which I'm not, more of a confused agnostic who thinks there's bits of truth everywhere, told me that "the light comprehends the darkness."."

He shrugs a bit uncomfortably, and you see what the Christian observer meant. There is a quality of decency, a kindness combined with an unwavering desire to do right that just shines in him.  For a second, its like he's glass that glows with an inner flame.  And he's honest enough to know he's different, but still uncomfortable with that.

You and he trade a few moves.

"Myself, I use to think that there were old souls. Reincarnated.  And I knew them in a previous life.  Maybe Loki in his demented way is sort of right.  But you're odd. When I look at others this way, I see sometimes an overlay, another face, but the same soul.  When I look at you, I see the same face, same soul."

He looks at you with that same crystalline gaze trying to see clearly.

"Oh, mate in nine."

PT

I sit and stare at the board for a few moments, not so much confirming his mate in nine, for I know that is a certainty, but wondering to myself about this man and the way he sees people.

"Well it looks like you got me, I don't think I stood much of a chance from the start.  Good Game."  I jab my hand out in gesture of a friendly handshake.  "I'm not sure I'm entirely grabbing your meaning, but at the end of the day you see people differently.  Hopefully, though I don't seem quite the same to you, you'll see I'm a pretty nice guy."

I smile and then raise an eyebrow.

"And what of this pschy teacher you were talking about?  I am very interested to meet this person.  I may have a few things to discuss with them as well."  I look around the room slowly.  "At the very least it will give me something to do today.

"I'll go see if she's busy.  That will, as you say, give me something to do, as well."  He shakes your hand with his left hand, and gets up with a smile.  "Next time, I'll give you a pair of rooks."

And then he walks off.

The other, balding roly-poly man who had been playing him sits down across from you.

"He's a grandmaster.  However, I am not so exalted.  So if you were interested?"  He waves a hand at the table.

"I'm Mark Conroy. Weatherman for Channel Three back in the day.  Now full-time diabetic without much access to insulin pills, so I occasionally have to visit the hospital."

PT

I smile and then begin to set the pieces back up in their original positions.  "I have time for another game.  It's not as if I have a lot of other pressing concerns right at this moment."

I clack the last of the pieces in place and then look up at my new opponent.  "My name's Derek.  Hopefully you and I will have a bit of a closer game."  I think for a moment and then ask a question.

"What was it like covering the news as the entire world literally came crashing down around you? I couldn't imagine being in that position and having to relay the news to everyone."

He freezes in position,and then puts a shaking hand to his face to cover the sudden tears leaking from his eyes.

"It was the most awful thing I have ever done.  I only made it through the broadcast because I'd tanked up on happy pills before it. Excuse me, I need to get a drink."

He gets up with sudden force, and goes elsewhere for a while, leaving the room.  When he gets back, he has a pair of cups of tea, and his eyes are bloodshot.  He manages a smile.

PT

I look down at the ground at his retrn, not making eye contact for a few moments before looking up again to meet him.

"I am sorry, that was rather thoughtless of me.  Today is a day to play chess and drink tea.  Not a day to bring up old painful memories."  I make the first move, pushing a pawn forward in front of my King two spaces.

He waves a hand dismissing it, and begins to set up a classic Stonewall defense, an inverted V from his viewpoint.

After a bit more, you notice a middle-aged woman with a soft hairdo, and inquisitive eyes is watching your game.

"Please continue, I don't have that many customers nowadays.  Nothing like real tragedy to cure people of their neuroses.  Besides, I find watching the tactics chosen in chess to be most enlightening."  All this is said in the most, soft, and breathy voice possible so you have to strain to hear her.

You notice across the room that the other chess player is back.

He walks over, and drops a copy of "The Art of Sacrifice" on your side of the table.  It has a picture of a player yielding a rook to a pawn. And it has his name on the front cover.

PT

All of the attention from the chess players is a little much for me but I can't resist playing out the game to its conclusion.  As the book is tossed down onto the table, I nod to my opponent and then pick it up, leafing through it quickly.

"Well, you were not joking about your book.  I thought you were trying to be funny."  I look up and smile at him and then glance back down at the board.  "Of course I probably shouldn't be searching through a chess book "while" I am playing.  That might be seen as cheating!"

You play out the rest of the game.  It starts to go bad, and you try to drive it to a stalemate, but it doesn't quite work.  But you think that the attention is what shifted the game.

Your opponent seems to thrive on attention which makes sense since he's a TV guy, and you wilted a bit.  On a more level playing field, you think you might be able to take him.

He reaches his sausage fat fingers over to you, and very gently shakes your hand.

"A most enjoyable game.  You had me worried there before you lost your first bishop."

You then trade insights about the game.  Showing alternate positions you could have played, and analyzing them.  He's a stronger defensive player than an offensive, and not really a genius, more of a well-taught plodder.

"Very illuminating."  The lady says. "I find how people play games to be of great help in understanding their personalities.  You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Jeter? I'm Doctor Anne Cooper, a licensed pschyiatrist and pschyologist."

PT

I nod quickly and smile at my opponent.  "An enjoyable game, we might have to meet again at some point.  For now I have other things I need to attend to."

I stand up and turn to face the doctor, sticking out my hand.  "Nice to meet you doctor.  I didn't really have any pressing concerns, but I was hoping I could speak to you for a short time about some psy ideas.  I'm very curious about that particular field and was wondering what you might know about it."

At this point I was not quite ready to let her know that I had already had a couple experiences with it, the most recent leading to my own death...

The other two chess players leave you alone with Dr. Anne who takes your hand, and then the vacated chair.

"I might be drummed out of my Association for saying so, but I believe there is some validity.  I personally have  had what I think was a clairvoyant experience while in a sensory deprivation tank.  And I've read convincing accounts of twin telepathy, of reincarnation, of precognition, and less convincing accounts of pyrokinesis, and spontaneous human combustion.

I will say that if you are interested in researching this, now might be the perfect time.  You are laid up, and I'm not that busy..."

PT

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms, remaining silent for a few moments while I toss the word "Spy" around in my head.  No inward alarms were wailing and she seemed sincere enough and so with a smile I lean forward and place my hands back onto my knees.

"I can't see that being ejected from your Association matter much in these times, and I do have a lot of free time on my hands.  I say we go for it and see what we can come up with.  Let's give it a try."

Of course, you also realize that if she is a spy for Loki, she's had professional level training at colleges in how to be a good liar.  But so far, so good....said the man as he fell past the tenth floor.

"Indeed, sir. What particular field were you interested in?"

She then excuses herself, and comes back with a notepad, pencil, tape recorder, and a bag of supplies.  She asks a nurse if the two of you can have a private room which unless you object is granted.

"I trust you are familiar with these."  She takes out the big white cards with simple geometric designs on them used to test psi sensitivity.

PT

I nod.  "Vaguely, although I havn't had a lot of experience with them."  I stare at one of the shapes, bringing a shudder as I think of my last experience with Psi.

"Are there many individuals that you know of who respond well to this sort of training?"

OOC:  Sorry for the short post.  Just not quite sure what else to say....lol

"A few Mr. Derek. Is something the matter?  I mean we can start with something else if you like.  I do have a sensory deprivation tank if you'd like to experience that.  And I also have an EKG that I can use to hook up to your head and detect your brain waves."

PT
OOC: Its okay.

"Ah no no, it's just this is not the type of experience you go through everyday.  At least this seems to be the least invasive way of testing out these sorts of things."  I smile and then try my best to relax.

"So what exactly do you want me to do with these?  Just stare at them and then we'll be on our way?"

It takes you a few minutes of preparation to get started.  At first, she is being complimentary, and then she stops, and just nods excitedly.  Then you get through the cards, and she shuffles them again.

This time, you're racing through them.

By the end, you feel like you're looking through her eyes at the cards.

Her face is pale, with bright red dots on her cheeks.

"Please tell me that you didn't set me up or something. Because you started at fifty percent accuracy, went to sixty, then seventy-five, and for that last run, it was a hundred percent."

She stares at you with hope in her eyes.

PT
OOC: Clairvoyance with partner in sight. 1@2.

I shake my head slowly as the doctor gazes at me with some amazement.


"I can assure you that this is no joke or setup.  I had figured that I might have some skill in this area, that is why I asked you.  One hundred percent os a lot higher then I would have guessed, but I suppose I should be happily surprised."  I smile and then bring my hands up to my eyes rubbing them gently.

"What use there is for this I'm not quite sure, but it is interesting to take note of.  Do you have any skill in this area as well?"

"No, I have no skill in the area. Just interest. The use of it? Its thought that what you did is clairvoyance, I think.  Perhaps mind reading. Either one would be useful if you develop it further.  If you can look inside minds to find answers hidden, or if you can lay in a chair, and see what our scouts are doing many miles away, either would be most helpful."

PT

I raise a hand and scratch idly at an itch on my head, giving a slight shrug.

"Yes I suppose that that could work out well for me.  I suppose it's all a matter of working at it and learning how to use it.  Know any good ways to practice these skills, aside from coming here and harassing you of course."  I smile and glance around the room quickly, checking out the area.

She walks over to a shelf made of shopping carts fused together,and pulls down two books.

"Understanding the Potential of the Mind is good for basic understanding, and Exercises for the Gifted Student of the Psionic Disciplines is a good, if strict guidebook for using skills." She walks back over to you, and puts both the coffee table sized books on your lap.

"Also, you can come visit my sens dep chamber, and I'd love to run an EKG on you.  And if you're up to it, you can go talk to Fenris in the sub-basement.  He's supposed to have an interesting array of skills. Of course, he's completely mad."

PT

I leaf through the book casually, spending a few extra moments on a couple of the pages while continuing the conversation.

"Mad?  In what way?  Why does the college keep this Fenris here if he is insane?  Seems like quite the risk for a place like this?"  One of the pages catches my eye and I read up on a paragraph on some of the possibilities of what can be done when fully using the human brain.

"I might be a little fatigued now for more tests, but I think I'd like to take you up on your offers another day perhaps.  Do you mind if I borrow this book for a couple days to get a chance to give it a good read?"

"Ah, well, the school does not believe in capital punishment, but at the same time Fenris is too dangerous to let free. He believes himself to be Fenris Wolf, the Chaos Wolf who will eat Odin.  He's a sociopathic killer with delusions, and a whole slew of other problems.  Unfortunately, he won't allow me to treat him so I can't do more than diagnose from a distance."

===========================================================================

Over the next week you read, practise the mental exercises, and grow physically stronger while finding your ability to mentally focus has increased as well.  It shows up in your chess game with you beginning to beat the tv weatherman perhaps three out of four games.

You meet with Josesph and Anne Marie.  They have good news as they say. Anne Marie is Selected.  And Joseph is considered valuable enough to stay at the college.

PT
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:48, Tue 29 Nov 2005.

The progress of my two young friends is encouraging to me, although I am a little confused as to why Joseph has not been chosen along with the girl.  During one of our visits I sit down with the lad and try and find out how I might be able to help him.

"I'd like to see if we can't get you on up to that ship with Anne-Marie.  Perhaps there are a few things I can teach you, or more specifically the good doctor might teach you, that might convince the selection team that you would be a good fit.  You and I both know that you are quite bright and I think that with some practice you might be able to develop some ... unsual skills ... that the others would not be able to ignore.

I explain to Jospeh about some of the things I had been practicing in regards to fully using the mind and invite him to take part in a few of the exercises with me or with the doctor.

"These others, well they like Anne-Marie. She's a pretty girl, and she's hard to ignore. Talks a lot. I keep my mouth shut.  Besides, they think people who work with their hands are 'not their kind of people.'"  He mimics someone's voice with cruel accuracy.

It takes but a moment to recognize your doctor in that voice.

He brightens up when you offer the chance, and soon you are trying to teach him.  But you realize its going to be a lot harder because you learned by seeing it in someone else's mind.  You don't know how to do it here.

But he is getting statistically odd results from the cards. Either 60-90% right, or a hundred percent wrong.

You keep on working on this, and your own skills as the week passes.  Finally, you are judged ready for light work. One 'benefit' of the Cold is that it killed practically all the viruses and bacteria on the planet.  Add in the fact that most of the survivors are extra-tough, and viruses and bacteria had no place to go to, and it was mass extinctions all over the place for the cold virus.  The end result is that almost no one comes down with infections, even those who have had their chests ripped open by polar bears.

PT

The tests with Jospeh indeed bring about some odd results but without the needed training in deciphering it I can't quite figure out exactly why the kid is exeriencing such large swings in his testing.  In the end I decide it's one of those things that I may never know and I set about busying myself with daily tasks as I continue to get some of my strength back.  Getting Joseph onto the ship becomes a bit of mission for me and I spend a lot of my free time trying to teach the boy how to do any assortment of things that I figure might make him just a little bit more valuable to the others.

Two months pass, and you help Joseph learn some psi skills which do indeed make him a Selected, and get you Selected as well.

You also practise much on your Reading Thoughts, and your Lightweight TK.  By now, you've become moderately famous as the Psi Master from Another Universe.

Evidently, your secrets got leaked.

And then O' Donnell comes to you.  By this time you have been well for some time. Indeed, you feel good, except for the cold which worsens by the day.

"My friend. The rocket is near finished. Less than a week.  And despite several efforts at sabotage, I think it will fly.  The only problem is that Loki has denounced us yet again, and I have a feeling that this time it is serious.  I'm going around to everyone, asking their ideas on handling the situation of an experimental rocket launch combined with an assault by Loki's troops."

You tell him your ideas, and then next morning, you are startled from sleep by the blare of a trumpet which is followed by a loudspeaker call which echoes over the city.

"All who are willing to accept the leadership of the Lord Loki, and overthrow the tyrant and false president, O'Donnell should make use of the time to escape the doomed city of Asgard."

PT
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:09, Wed 14 Dec 2005.

I bolt up in bed, my heart beating wildly as the announcements shoot out across the city via the loudspeakers.  It takes me a few moments to get my bearings as I blink and rub my head.

"Well it's finally happened," I think to myself.  "I wondered if Loki would ever have the gall to come after us."  I begin to stand up and gather a few of my belongings, making sure I grab anything that might aid me in survival outside.

"Us..."  It only then occurred to me that I considered myself one of the Asgardians.  "I guess there's no leaving the city now, that's for sure."

Confident that I have gathered most of my things I head out of my room in search of O'Donnell.  Unsure of whether he will want to launch the rocket now, or what his plan is for this kind of attack I figure it's best to get in touch with him and see if we can get ourselves organized in time for Loki's attack.

You meet O'Donnell who is being swarmed by questioners.  It takes five minutes, but he gets to you.

"Your job, is to get on the wall. Shoot anything the Security Chief tells you to with that pistol of yours.  And if you see Loki, then definitely take him down.

When you hear a loudspeaker playing 'Auld Lang Syne' then its time for you to get onto the ship, and get strapped in. You will have five minutes from the beginning of that song until the torch is lit. And we won't wait."

PT

A pit grows in my stomach at the thought of having to fight back against Loki and his people.  I knew that for the most part the men under Loki's command were simply misled and that for many of them this would lead to their death.  But what choice did I have?  Loki would certainly have me killed for my own perceived treachery at not returning after he let me go as a spy.  If I valued my own life then I needed to stay here and fight and then take my chances on board the ship.

With a nod I fingered around for my gun and then headed for a well-guarded spot atop the wall.

The wall is four to ten feet wide, with occasional square towers, and an empty moat spanned by a bridge painted in Rainbow stripes.  It is fifteen feet tall in most places.

At every tower, there is approximately five to ten people armed with long spears, and perhaps one person armed with a rifle of some sort.  The basic strategy seems to be to spread out the forces in small clumps, and then use the greater speed of being on the wall to have everyone move together to repulse an attack.

You have perhaps 300 people on your side, but many are not as physically fit.  Loki has his 80 Jotunn, some of them are pro football players, and all are fit.  Plus he has another hundred elsewise.  It seems he was lying a bit about his numbers, even to his own people.

You have two yellow busses that are also being warmed up as mobile forts.

The wall commander, a sharp-eyed former sergeant comes by.

"Well boys, stay loose. We just have to hold them a little bit, and then the rocket is away."

It looks like the odds are in your favor, but everyone seems to expect to lose.

PT

Some of the men down below the wall are vaguely familiar, although most are nothing more then blank faces staring back at me.  Although the numbers seem to be in the favour of the Collegiates, there is no doubt that should this battle come down to hand to hand combat then we might be in for a really rough ride.  Inside, as selfish as it might seem, I know I only need to last five minutes or so before I can make a break for the rocket.

With my gun in hand I aim at the nearest Jotun and without really thinking about what I am doing, I instantly shoot towards the man, only afterwards suddenly realising that I was shooting AT a human being for the first time in my life.  As the gun set off, I couldn;t help but feel a well of disgust at myself for what I was doing...

A few scattered shots, such as yours trim the Jotunn, and force them into hiding behind thick snow drifts.  And then you see a minivan with a telephone pole mounted in front of it.  The minivan is plated over with a wild extravaganza of metal.  Tabletops, flattened file cabinets, rippled metal sheeting.

You notice that it is almost scraping the ground. It must be carrying something heavy, or have no shocks whatsoever.

The telephone pole goes straight out from the minivan, and it is mounted on an axle with two rubber wheels to hold it up.  At its end is affixed an some sort of plastic clown figure probably looted from Coney Island.

It advances up to the Rainbow Bridge, and toward the gate. The wall leader comes by, and says quietly to you.

"Tyr, old friend, I'll see you in another cycle.  This is my Doom. Heimdall ends on the Bifrost Bridge." Sergeant Harry Dall says, and claps you on the shoulder.  "For you, I fear. One of my messengers says that Fenris has been released by Loki's spies. Watch your back."

PT

Everything was happening like some odd fantasy movie, with the bad guys storming the castle and the good guys giving last minute bravados as they went to their doom.  As Sergeant Hall turns to go I yell out to him "Hey, I'll do what I can to keep you alive and well out there my friend.  I'll watch my back, but I'll watch yours first.  Try and stay within range of my weapon if you can."

My words sound rather hollow as I am quite unsure of how helpful I can actually be to the man as he scampers away to his doom.

Then Hall's words about Fenris ripple down my spine and I can't help but take a quick moment to glance over my shoulder.  "Fenris huh...?"  I look around quickly for another man on the wall who can watch my back for me as I take try my best to defend the 'castle'.

OOC:  Now this is rather fun.  Reminds of Lord of the Rings as the Orcs are attacking!  :)

Sergeant Dall goes down to the gate with a group of men, and sallies forth because your gate is simply not up to repeating battering by such a ram.  His ten men are subjected to withering fire as they storm across the bridge, but you begin to do counterfire, taking out the enemy marksmen until suddenly you and the other rifleman with you are part of the target.

Your comrade to your right lurches over, and another man grabs his rifle without a moment's thought, and joins in.

The Sergeant's men are swarming around the mini-van, stabbing spears into its interior,and putting concrete blocks in front of its wheels, a swarm of Jotun suddenly rush them from behind a snowdrift...

And you hear a voice in your mind. It burns like fire, and madness is unleashed in its voice, and inside your head.

*Well met, Tyr. I'm going to go blow up the rocket. Care to join me?*

PT

It takes but only a moment for me to realise the true intention of the Jotuns.  Not only to be satisfied with taking out the College inhabitants but wanting to doom each and every one of them to being stranded on the planet without a rocket.  Instantly I snap my head to one side and bakr out an order to the nearest man.

"Try and keep those men safe down there as they attack that van.  Whatever is in needs to be stopped!  I'm heading down to try and intercept someone..."

With that I turn and begin to make my way back down the wall.  "Now who would be saying that.  Loki no doubt?  I need to get to the rocket now and protect it or we'll all be damned no matter what happens here today."  With my mini-gun in hand I set out a straight path for the rocket, almost forgetting about the clamour of fighting all around me and the threat of Fenris who could be lurking around any corner.  Instead my thoughts are only on getting to the rocket and protecting it so that the others can get away.  Even if it means I am stranded here myself...

You jog across the ice as fast as you can without falling, and head into the great rocket shed.  Explosions flare around you, and snow obscures your sight,and your ears ring.

You huddle with your arms about your face, and things settle enough so that you look up in time to see the enormous warehouse building peel outwards, and fall into a dozen gigantic pieces leaving the ten story rocket exposed to the wind, and ready to fly.

Alongside it is a scaffolding that goes up five stories.

*Come on Tyr. I'm here. I can see you. I ate your hand in the days of yore when we were worshipped as gods before the coming of the monks. Now let me destroy all your dreams.*

The insane voice echoes in your mind.  And you realize its not Loki. Its not smart enough, its too ferocious to be Loki.

A loudspeaker blares.

"Clear the area. Emergency liftoff, four minutes. Doors close in one minute."

PT

"One minute..."  The need to make a decision on my feet has never been greater then right this sections.  I now have 55 seconds to decide to either forfeit my life and test my luck against what seems to be impossible odds with this Fenris character, or to make a break for the rocket and hope that the Jotuns cannot sabotage the rocket within the space of 5 minutes.  One is almost certain death for me but a far greater chance at life for the rocket crew, the other is a better chance at life for me, but a lower chance at life for the rocket crew.  The options swish back and forth in my mind as my eyes flick back and forth across the area looking for Fenris.

"50 seconds..."  I could die and who knows what might happen.  I seem to be stuck in some kind of endless loop.  Death is painful but I would be giving my life for something greater.  And yet how can I hand my life over so easily...

"40 seconds..."  Maybe I could fend off this attack and somehow lead the College Residents to a resistance against the Jotuns.  That would be a win win situation.  But that's a big IF.  And then I am still doomed to die on a planet that is on it's last legs according to all reports.

"30 seconds..."  Life is too valuable to me, even if it has been cheapened by my experiences in the past few months.

With a nod I turn and make a break for the rocket, forgetting about Fenris.  Forgetting about the war raging on around me.  Thinking only of my own life and the need to preserve it.

"20 seconds and I will be home free," I think to myself.

OOC:  Have a great holidays!

OOC: Definitely time for a GE roll.  "14" which is slightly on the good side.

IC: You sprint up the walkway, and get on board right behind another person, and the door closes.  A roar sounds, and you wonder if the engines are firing already even as you stand in the base of the rocket ship, but then the whole ship wavers, rocking back and forth.

*Heimdall dies at the Rainbow Bifrost Bridge as he knew he would. A two thousand pound bomb makes a big hole.*  The voice is in your head.  Fenris Wolf has not finished with you.

You hear a crackling sound from outside, and the two people immediately next to you stare back and forth in fear as the ship begins to sway further.

*Aaagggh.* You hear.

"Get to your seats. Now. Lets hope this puppy doesn't tip over."  The guide yells in the noise.

"Emergency liftoff. Twenty seconds." Blares with ear-stunning force down the length of the passenger cabin which is above you.  You can see your chair.  It is up a ladder of wood, fifteen feet.  The smell of fear, sweat, and cold metal dims hopes, and people hold hands in the thirty strong cabin.

PT

My heart suddenly begins to slow it's rapid beating, and I take in a deep breath.  The situation as now out of my control and in mere moments I would know whether I was to be passing onto to another world, or if I would be learning what it is like to live on a rocket for the rest of my life.  It was an odd situation.

The scream of Fenris I assumed to be a good thing for me, and I no longer could hear him speaking in my mind.  Exhaling a deep chestful of stressednout air I lean my head back on the back of the chair and close my eyes, thinking of a much simpler time what seemed like years ago...

Suddenly the room fills with thunder, and the air is driven from your lungs, and roaring is all about you, and then you feel as if you left your stomach waaaaaay behind...

You'd clutch your stomach in pain, if you could raise your arm against what must be at least four g's, who knows really?  The ship climbs skyward, battering the air with its brute presence, and being slugged back.

One of your straps frays, and breaks.  You see another one that is holding you into to your chair fraying as well, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Its desperately hard to breathe, and then you hear a shouted over the intercom by someone who sounds like they are in pain, a few words.

"Max Q. Max Q"

Time stretches on, a minute, two, and then you're floating in your seat, and the rockets are cut off, and only the ringing in your ears, and the rips in the foam armrests where your fingers had gripped them remain of your experience.

"We have reached orbit. We have found a new life in the Heavens."

And then like a whisper from your soul, a memory perhaps, you don't hear, but perhaps feel the faintness of a breath on your mind.

Really now, you think I, Loki, god of the End, Lord of Mischief, don't have plans for this contingency?

PT

It takes more then a few moments for my body to adjust to being is such a foreign environment.  The brutality of being ejected into space was much more difficult on my body then I had thought it would be and it ached from the exertion of trying to stay in one piece.

Then the voice in my head.  I did my best to shake off the initial shock of the situation and take a look around at the others.  Certain that no one else was speaking to me, a cold shiver ran down my spine.

"Excuse me, but I think it would be best if we took a quick look around the ship.  Just to be sure that there was not any other sabotage put into place before we launched."  I explain to the others the voices, knowing that they would at least somewhat believe me, given my history with the College folks.  I glance over and see a few of the kids as I speak, not wanting to worry them, but knowing that their very lives are still at stake even as we move further and further away from the planet's surface.

"I fear that Loki, or one of his spies, might have thought a little further ahead then we initially thought..."

Then it struck me that there would be no better way to sabotage the ship then by getting a spy onto the rocket after it had launched.  Without alerting any of the others I tried something a little unusual.

Reaching out with some of my abilities, I tried to search through the minds of the others, looking for anyone that might be suspicious.

OOC: No idea if I can even do such a thing, but I figured I would at least give it a go.

That kicks off a frantic search, and when O'Donnell comes in, and sees people looking under everything, and checking everything, he asks you what is going on.

Meanwhile, you've gotten a lock on a brain.

Its the man at the back of the room who is still sitting in his chair.

*When O'Donnel comes within five feet, stand up, stab him with the syringe. And yell, 'The Earth's Venom is Spent.' Then use the syringe on myself.When O'Donnel comes within five feet, stand up, stab him with the syringe. And yell, 'The Earth's Venom is Spent.' Then use the syringe on myself.When O'Donnel comes within five feet, stand up, stab him with the syringe. And yell, 'The Earth's Venom is Spent.' Then use the syringe on myself."

You realize he is repeating the plan over and over in his brain, and has probably been doing so for the last half-hour.

PT
OOC:Well a NASA rocket ride is fairly rough, but a rocket ride with almost no insulation, thrown together by some community college professors....

Quickly I stand up and make my way towards O'Donnell, hoping I can reach him before he gets too close to the man, but keeping an eye out for the guy in case he decides to make for the professor.

"We were just making a slightly non-routine check of everything sir, just to be sure that nothing was tampered with on board before we launched.  So far everything looks fine."  Even as I steadily make my way towards O'Donnell my pace increases, worried that O'Donnell might try and make a walkthrough of the area himself quickly and get too close to his would-be murderer.

"I do have something I'd like to speak with you about though sir, if we could..."  I gesture outside of the room, in the opposite direction of the man with the needle.

OOC:  I am leaving for a week for work.  I might have time for one more post in the next 24 hours but then I'll be gone without internet access after that for a while.

O' Donnelfloats in, and gives you a quizzical look at your first explanation, and starts a "walk"-through of the cabin, and then you call him again, and he slowly turns back to you, and comes abreast of you even as the man with the syringe looks up to you, and you see dawning realization in his eyes.

He lurches upward to his feet, and catches himself on the ceiling , and rebounds out into the aisle hooking his feet into the ladder.  He starts toward you, and when someone gets in his way...

A brutal chop to the neck with a knifehand strike from his off-hand fells them.  From the way, he's holding his right, primary hand, you'd say he has the syringe palmed.

O'Donnel mutters, and a sense of electricity fills the air as he suddenly awakes to the danger.

Rip-krankingggggggg, and he's holding a chair which he ripped out of the floor with his massive strength. And then he curses as he bounces head-first off the ceiling.

"Thats our PE coach. Black belt in karate. Brown belt in aikido."

"Odin must die." The coach says with a glazed look in his eyes. "I have the venom of Fenris to kill him with."

PT
OOC: Understood, have a good work week.

The realisation of who the man was 'really' talks about comes crashing down into my brain. "So he's looking to kill me..."  I glance quickly beside me, looking for any kind of item that I might use as a weapon in defense aganst the hulk of a man.

"Now now, just calm down.  It's going to do you no good to kill me.  You and I are both needed on this ship and if you kill me then you'll likely die as well.  Don't be hasty now.  Don't listen to the lies that Mr Key has fed you.  Try and fight through your confusion and listen to reason."

OOC:  Weel life sucks at times.  Just crazy busy and not so fun.

The giant of a man is Professor O'Donnel who ripped a chair out of the floor which is a very impressive feat of strength.  However, he conked his head in the zero gravity on the rebound.

The man walking up to you with a syringe is actually shorter than you, but you can see the muscles in his arm are braided, and his stance is ready.  But his eyes are clouded.

Your words don't even seem to get his attention.

You grab a medium-sized hard cased suitcase off a nearby chair.

PT

With O'Donnell carrying a chair, I take my meager weapon and get behind him.  "Listen to me!  There's nothing that will help you in this situation.  You're just going to get yourself hurt."  I position myself so that O'Donnell is in between me and the crazed man and grip my suitcase tightly.  "FENRIS IS NOT REAL!  NONE OF THIS IS REAL!"  I yell at the top of my lungs at the man, hoping to snap him out of it.

OOC:  Sheesh after all that, I thought it was the crazed man who ripped the chair out of the ground.  I thought I was in BIG trouble.

"Odin must die."  He says, and people scramble out of his way.  O'Donnel hooks a leg into the ladder on the floor, and shakes his head.

As you say those words, the karate teacher shakes his head, and a confused look comes across his face.  O'Donnel, a bit encouraged, lowers his chair a bit, and suddenly a look of inhuman fury flashes across the teacher's face, and he snap kicks forward into O'Donnel's knee, and then dives on him.

O'Donnel, despite significant pain, flings his opponent with bone-breaking force into the ceiling.  The teacher rebounds, and comes down again, with one hand out to grab the chair, and the other with the syringe ready.

PT

The tussle is a little bit more violent then I would have expected floating in space, and O'Donnell is frighteningly enraged at the other man, and seems to be taking out his wrath in full force.

I couldn't help but feel a little bit concerned as I see O'Donnell snap and react like he does.

No wanting to get in the way of the Professor's outburst, I take a step or two away from the two struggling men, but keep a good eye on the syringe, ready to make a dive for it in case things go badly for O'Donnell.

OOC:  Well this thread has been going since last April.  It's certainly time for me to verse out and into obscurity as my time with work has kept me away from the computer almost entirely (at least in regards to some of the hobbies I had been enjoying so much of in the past).  We'll wrap this up soon I'm sure and then maybe give a quick Post Ludum on it and then it's probably best if I don't start a new thread right now as I just don't have the time to give this a thorough committment.

O'Donnell flicks a foot up, and catches the karate teacher in the stomach, and the man bounces high,and richochets around the ceiling, and comes down on you.  You dive to the side, but your foot catches in a luggage strap, and you're entangled, and completely airborne.

Stab.

The syringe goes into your shoulder.  You feel liquid fire invade your arm, and then spread through your veins.

The karate teacher flails away, drifting loose, wailing in self-recrimination.

"What have I done? What have I done?"

O'Donnell takes one look at him, and then shoves him toward some waiting hands who entangle him.

Then he comes to sit next to you.

"Thanks isn't much for saving my life, but its all I have."  He says quietly.

You can feel your breathing getting more difficult, and you feel hot, flushed, feverish.

PT