You wake after bizarre dreams to the feel of being gently rocked back and forth while the stench of unwashed humanity mixes with rice in your nose.

A few words are being repeated over and over near you.  You're not familar with the language.

They make your stomach upset.

PT

I open my eyes to take a look around. I search around for the armor and the object that was in my hand before I passed out.

I slowly get up and stretch my limbs and walk around a bit.

Hello? Does anyone understand me?

The sampan rocks in the midst of its thousands of brothers.  A broadly hatted woman has a big machete in her hand that glitters.

It was the one sword you were going for.

"You pale devil man, why come to my boat?"

Beyond her, you can see skyscrapers that reach to the clouds.

PT

I look around in wonder and stare at her.

I really don't know... why do you have a Machete?

"It came when you came. Maybe the Celestial Emperor sent it as payment for you sleeping on my boat." She pauses. "Are you a bueraucrat from the Court? Suddenly, you appear. Just there. You sleep, nightmares. Wake. Harrass an innocent and pious old woman with your questions."

She tests the machete by tapping it on the edge of her boat.  It sinks the full width of the blade into the wood.

Her eyes widen.

PT

That is mine and I would appreciate you giving it back to me.

I concentrate for a minute gathering the energy around me and speak the word for sleep.

She just grins at you in denial.  You shape the spell, and at the last instant she seems to realize what you're doing.  She leaps up, fights the spell, staggers forward toward you, and slumps.

She sleeps, but it is light, and her voice calls out imprecations and threats in a foreign tongue.

PT

I bend down to pick up the Mechete, once I have it in my hands I bring my foot back and kick her behind the ear trying to keep her out cold.

If she stays still I'll walk around the boat and see whats going on and whats around. If not then I'll give her another kick and repeat the spell.

hmm, what's with me lately and waking up on ships?

Your kick connects, and she sags bonelessly into a deeper level of unconsciousness.  You examine the crude boat.  It has a rolled up straw mat, a charcoal burner on which rice is cooking, a few fish on hooks off the side of the boat, and an open shelter awning near the fish.

The machete slides out of the wood easily.

On its handle you see...

"Mary Piper Starship" and on the other side you see "Explorer Class Machete. Patent Pending."  It looks fearsomely sharp, and the blade shines in the cloud-ridden sunlight.  Its also quite heavy, being about seven pounds.

All about you are thousands of other sampans.  Some few in nearby, but not immediately neighboring sampans are staring at you.

PT

OOC: Good point. I think this is the third ship you've woke up in.  Its mostly an accident on my part, but it amuses me for all that.

Well I've never been good with boats, lets get off this thing and explore.

 I try to pilot the boat towards the nearest shore if I can see one.

Its unlikely you'd be able to get it to shore. However, you could step and occasionally jump from boat to boat for about a half-mile, and get to shore.  The boats are packed together with at most four feet between any one of them, and frequently they are less than a foot apart.

You do see others walking from boat to boat, although not many for the sheer mass of thousands of boats.

PT

Hmmm, well time to see if I do indeed have more speed

I look for the nearest and shortest rout to shore then proceed to run as fast as I can from boat to boat.

You speak the words, make the mystic symbols, and feel power surging up toward your legs...

You make ready to leap, and a ten foot long tentacle comes up over the edge of the boat.  It has an eye on the end of the tentacle.  The flesh is pale white, and stinks enough to make your eyes water.

*You called me, Dead Man from my sleep. I am the Aireckoi-Delp, the Revenger of the Dead. Your flesh is sweet. I drink the blood and the eyes of murderers.*

The words with an alien hideousness pour into your brain like someone had tossed you face first into a garbage pail.

PT
OOC: One interesting aspect of the game is that when you first arrive in a world is when people frequently whip out the magic, and sometimes they don't know the limits in the world, and sometimes, like you, they just get unlucky.  That is, to say...you botched, and have summoned something nasty.

I don't have time for this. Let's dance you ugly cycloptic noodle

I leap up from the boat and bring the Machete down in a sweeping motion aiming for the exposed eye. If I hit and my momentum lands me on the boat I'll take a few more swings at the "body" of the monster. I dodge and weave while fighting. keeping an eye out for any other tenticles.

You slash at its eye in passing, and rip off a chunk of an armored eyelash that suddenly descends between the eye and your blade.  It grabs at your skin with its suckers as you pass, and you rip free with four cup sized marks a tenth of an inch deep running down your chest.

The next attack de-eyes it.  It flails helplessly.  Then the tentacle sinks beneath the waves.

Not even the seagulls are shrieking. The harbor is quiet, dead quiet.

PT

I run my hand over the sucker marks and wonder look around.

I don't like this... time to get moving.

I being to run across the boats heading for shore.

*You cannot escape your fate, Dead Man.*

You see tentacles with eyes rising out of the water, but you quickly leave them behind.

You arrive on the pier, and see the base of it crowded with men sitting down.  Beyond it is a street with rickshaws and something glittering that floats by, and hordes of people.

a man with a dirty white pair of trousers, and very well developed chest muscles stands in your path.

"Hold there. Are you famous? Otherwise you get to pay fifty bakh to the Red Gull Tong for use of this, here, our pier."

PT

I look at the man with something akin to amusement as he attempts to extorte me.

Famous? If I was famous you would know it. As it stands your either very ignorant or mentally incapable of cognitive thought. I don't give a damn which it is. I'm not paying to walk on a pier so get out of my way little man.

He stands stock still for a second, and then smiles nastily.  He steps back, and bows you on your way.

Once you're past him, you hear him carroll out with too cheerful mockery...

"Oh, Big Foot, we've got a challenger. His Name is Unknown, to me anyways."

The crowds in front of you part, and you see a passage directly down the pier to where a huge man, with bright, red metallic boots cladding his feet, and a pair of cut-off jeans covering his thighs and waist, and nothing else.  He looks up with a kind of casual interest, and you realize, he's big, no, scratch that, very big.  Then he stands up, and the sky almost seems to retreat to give him room.

Seven feet, three-hundred fifty pounds, most of it muscle.

Someone in the crowd screams out "7-1, Big Foot vs. Unknown."  And suddenly there is a lot of gambling action from the hundred or so smaller men in the crowd.

PT

I call across the pier to the big man.

So let me get this straight. I fight you, if I win...I get to leave, if I lose I'm dead?

"You lose, well, you might. I won't kill you on purpose, but last week, I exploded a man's heart with a kick. Fight hard, fight good, and we let you go with bruises. Fight bad, and we take your stuff too. You win...."  He guffaws. "Well, little man, you win, and I'll give you the freedom of the Southside Docks. You'll be able to leave."

You hear some footsteps behind you, and you stand ready to spring.

"Or you can pay 200 Bakh."  You hear the voice of the man who tried to extort you.

PT

Fair enough I guess... Bare hand or weapons? Rules or no?

I shift the Machete from hand to hand and balance on the balls of my feet getting ready for a fight.

He eyes your machete which glitters in the sunlight with many little flashes.

"No weapons. Dockside Rules."

He starts to walk toward you with a measured pace, studying you.  His hands are held loosely down at his sides, and he ripples the muscles of his chest and arms as he loosens them up.

Behind you the man who tried to extort you explains, "Dockside Rules are simple. No biting, no gouging, no groin, and if the other man yells out 'I surrender' three times, let him go. You won. Don't move too fast, I have to go bet a hundred bakh against you. I don't want you broken before I can get my bet in."

PT

I walk over to a wooden pillar on the dock and stick my machete into it. I turn around to face the tall man and begin to stretch, all the while watching him to make sure he doesn't rush me.

Now your sure this is how it has to happen?

He shrugs and cracks his back with a crude stretch.

"Its my job. Its better than being a bouncer cause there's always some 'hit' and bouncers get shot in the back all the time.  And I don't like making gambler's repay their debts. Its no fun to beat up someone who can't fight back.  Besides, being a 'Name' gets you respect.  You need to come up with a name that reflects your uniqueness, and is kinda cool at the same time. Course, Red Machete is already taken by some freakazoid."

He snaps his head back and forth, and then lets a right jab fly as he glides up to you.  He's slow, but not all that slow. You're sure you can duck it or dodge it, but stopping it seems unlikely.

PT

I dodge under the jab and step to his right to deliver a uppercut to his side and spin away out of his reach to prepare for his next attack. while behind him I begin to chant the spell nulify pain that Devlin taught me.

You duck the blow smoothly in time to see his big left foot coming up.  The only way to block it as you step forward to dodge him is to take it on your thigh. The massive jolt throws the spell clean from your mind, and then you hit him on the lowest of his ribs, possibly cracking it.

Unbalanced, he is knocked down, but not dazed.  He tries to slap the ground to absorb his momentum as he falls, but he's a bit late, and lands, but on the giving surface of the wooden pier its not serious.

He's got a ticked off glint in his eye like he intends repayment with steep interest.

You've spun away to get yourself some room, and for a long second, you struggle to remember your plan in the haze of being battered. That blow was not nearly his best kick, and yet you feel like you've been picked up and rattled.

PT

I concentrate to clear my head from that kick. wow that hurt, must avoid being hit again.

I keep some distance between us as I circle him.

Nice kick, isn't that enough to satisfy modesty? surely we don't have to keep going?

I keep on alert for a possible rush, if he rushes me I'll use his momentum to try and throw him into the water, if not then keeping a good distance from him and try to talk him down.

He appears to think about it for a few seconds, and then shakes his head.

"You're not bleeding yet."

He observes calmly.

Before you realize it, he's backed you up into a corner of the pier despite your best efforts to circle him. He's good, and you thought you had three more feet to the left than you did, and almost fell in yourself.

PT
OOC: Yah, thats another botch. "98" on your circling him.

I wait until till he starts to move forward then rush at him as if to strike then roll off to one side in an attempt to gain more ground on him. All the while ready to block any shot he throws at me.

The dock convulses, and you stumble past him even as he swings slow. You spin about and see four tentacles with eyes, and one of them is wrapped around Big Foot's throat.

You hear a rubbing sound, as of dead flesh shushing on dry wood behind you, and the deck of the pier ripples again.

*Murderer* You hear in your mind. Its like waking up by having someone dump a pail of dirty ice water on you in your warm bed.

"Save  yourself, run!" Big Foot croaks through his constricted windpipe.

PT

Ok boss, no hard feelings.

I turn and run to get my machete and head towards the street. I keep the machete ready to chop down any tentacles that try to hit me or bar my path.

You lunge down the pier, and three tentacles come for you on your left. A quick glance to your right reveals a forest of them on that side, and so you continue.  The middle one dives for you, and you slice it clean off. The next one in front comes, but it convulses as the pain hits it which jerks it so that you almost miss it, but still gouge its length with a shallow slice, and it slaps you on the side of the head.

You stumble, and the one behind you that you had hoped to outrace wraps itself around your chest, and lifts you into the air. You feel your ribs creak, and the air rushes out of your lungs as you wobble in the air dizzily.

PT

I try to catch my breath and swing the machete at the tentacle holding me to sever it. If I succeed I will try to roll as I hit the pier and come up running. If not then I will keep swinging until i cut it off of me.

Flailing the air with a tremendous blow for your first strike, you concentrate, and slice the tentacle in two on the second attempt. The dock rushes up at you, and you roll, in faith, while still in the air, and hit the dock in a ball.  You come up to your feet, and are sprinting down the dock before you think of it again.

Bullets kiss past you from two dozen of the crowd members, and for a fraction of a second you think they are aiming at you.  Justice is reaching out her long arm for you.  But then you realize they are aiming at the beast.

You sprint past the line of skirmishers, and collapse for a second to your knees as oxygen debt suddenly catches up to you.  Gasping for air on your knees, you watch blood drip off you and splatter on the pier.

PT

I take a minute to catch my breath and watch the ebb and flow of the battle. I keep an eye out for anymore tentacles.

The tong members continue blasting away with pistols and shotguns at the tentacles of the Delck Aproi until it sullenly retreats into the depths of the harbor after taking half the pier and Big Foot with it.  But then Big Foot gets tossed back, bleeding, on to the shore line.

*He is not a murderer, but you are. We have not finished our discussion.* The hideous voice echoes through your head.

The tong members divide between checking on Big Foot, and breaking out the bottles of cheap wine to have a party as they swagger around the remains of their pier.  No one seems to be detaining you, except for the four foot five inche guy who shoves a bottle of what smells more like vinegar than red wine into your hand, and yells up at you something in his own language that undoubtedly means "Drink!".

PT

I grab the drink and gulp it down greedily.

I look around and slowly edge my way off the pier

You're on dry land. The harbourside road is extremely crowded with bicyling men and woman, rickshaws, escaped chickens, young urchins eyeing you for 'a donation to their college fund', merchants in stalls along each side of the road, and skyscrapers right behind the stalls.

You hear a mix of Mandarin, French, English, and several other languages shouted at high volume, and very quickly.

Much of it is personal abuse, and this is frequently followed up by waving arms which sometimes turn into punching hands. You see a fistfight between two men on bycycles, and their legs never stop pumping.

And you see people almost bump into you, only to be warned off by others who whisper a strange word....Streetfighter.

PT

I continue to walk down the street, looking at signs trying to find out were I am and more specifically when I am.

You go down the harborside street (what type of wallet did you have?), and take the first road going uphill as its less crowded.  Now you have enough room that you might be able to stop looking for someone about to step on you every second.

A bit of newspaper is in the gutter.

You pick it up. It flickers. Its made of plastic.

"Formosa Strait Times" and a date in the 21st century catches your eye. Beneath it you read...kanji script, and then binary code...and then English....

"Port Authority Turns Away Dutch Refugee Ship."
"Johnny Blood Issues Challenge for Deathmatch to Two Ton Sian"

And then the paper flickers again, and dies.  It crumples up in your hand, and starts evaporating.

PT

( I don't have one anymore. I believe it got traded out with new clothes on another world)

huh, that's different. Seems like it's a mix of old fashioned and technology. Interesting concept.

I continue to wonder around the streets looking at this strange and wonderful city.

You see a number of strange things....

1. Live octopus for sale.
2. A fifteen story tall hotel made of ice. Its somewhat pyramidal.
3. Over a railing, you look down and see the water two hundred feet below you.
4. Skyscrapers reaching up three hundred stories.
5. A very busy Kentucky Fried Chicken restauraunt which takes up the first ten stories of a massive 'scraper with a hundred foot tall animatronic Col. Sanders out front.  It sees you looking at it, and bends down to shake your hand.

'Howdy, stranger, come on in and sit down, why don'tcha?' It says with a good Suthern' accent.

6. Deathgrip and The Stone Hand duelling in the street in martial arts fashion with several hundred betting spectators.
7. Everyone bowing deeply and getting out of the way as The Imperial Presence is carried on a sedan chair through the street.
8. A German biergarten with a giant "have you seen this person" contact board out front. Its a place for people to find each other.
9. Snapfist and Drakon duelling in the street with hundreds of spectators....you see Drakon leap a full twenty feet into the air before he drops down on Snapfist with the sounds of echoing thunder rumbling up the street.  Several tens of thousands of betting money (bakh is the moolah) passes hands from the depressed to the jubilant.
10. A sign that says in a number of languages with English the fifth down the list....(--Mainland China (that way) and Taiwan --)
11. Tens of thousands of people.

PT
OOC: Well then you lucked out. The pickpocket found an empty pocket.

I laugh a little bit at the giant Col. Saunders and begin to look around for help wanted signs. Since I'm here I might as well look for a job to get some money.

You see a help wanted sign at the KFC, the biergarten, a rickshaw puller office, and a "Join the Glorious People's Army, and Defend the Middle Kingdom from the infidel!"

You also see what looks to be a rotating jobs sign (it says 'jobs here' in English), but the jobs on the sign are in kanji script.

PT

I walk over to the rotating "jobs here" sign and if anyone is around behind a counter or what not I'll ask about the jobs available.

There are several slickly dressed in suit and tie, young Oriental men that are standing about near the Jobs Board.

"Hey gaijin, you don't want one of them jobs. I got much better jobs. I help you yes? What job can you do?"

He definitely does not seem trustworthy.

PT

I look at him coldly.

What did you just call me?

"Gaijin. Foreign devil." He pauses and takes in your face, and then deliberately continues. "You got a problem with that roundeyes? Don't forget who took your weak people in after the caliphs came and took your land from you. A little gratitude would be nice, gaijin."

He's standing lightly on his shiny shod feet, but you outweigh him by at least thirty pounds.

PT

I square my shoulders and draw myself up to my full Height.

really? you want gratitude? well that would be easy if it wasn't for ignorance like this everywhere....Then again who can expect civility from a pampered fool such as you.

He stares at you coldly for a second, and then he breaks into a somewhat forced grin and laugh.

"Well,  I could use you as a bouncer, or a repo man, or if you want to try your hand, you can start in the basement as a streetfighter...call you the 'gaijin menace'. Course, if you're all puff and fluff, I can get you a job as a security guard."

PT

I give him a sly wink and grin.

How much we talking for a repo man? and what does it entail?

"3% of returned goods. Its simple, you pick up a list of things people haven't paid for, take the wagon, and go pick them up. Sometimes some debtors, being the loathesome irresponsible people they are, refuse to hand over the stuff you're entitled too.  We pay full hospital bills too, but mostly you just have to shout and act angry."

PT

I look as if I'm considering it then nod my head.

Done, am I working alone or with a partner?

"Your choice, and the choice of your partner." He shrugs, and walks you over to a subway train.  He gives you a slip of 'paper' on which moving words appear.  They are directions.

You follow them, and the subway takes you out through the vast metropolis, and on a long arc over the water several hundred feet below, and then back to the metropolis in a much less pleasant area of town.

It drops you off, and you see a number of guys at the station give you hard looks.  Down a street, and up two flights since the elevator isn't working, and you enter a sweat stinking room with rows of padded chairs and about fifteen bored looking guys, and a clerk behind a bullet proof glass at the front of the room.

PT

No one seems to be moving. A ping pong ball is hanging in the air. A gob of spit is halfway from someone's mouth to the rubber mat on the floor.

You suddenly see two people, a man with red hair and blue eyes, and a woman in old timey dress appear.

They nod at you.

"I'm Christophe, and this is Annie. This looks like a den of thieves here, brr." He smiles lightly. "We're fellow versers, and I have a problem, and I wondered if you could help. I promise to return you to this point in space/time when you're done. Although I'd keep my hand real close to my knife with this lot when you get back."

He holds out his hand in invitation.

"Or I can simply step back out of frozen time, and let you get on with it."

PT
OOC: I'm taking around a two week vacation, as I've done before. I'll be back. In the meantime, you may wish to accept this invitation and join in Krillis' temporary gather.

I look at these two with wonder. more out of how much power they must have to do this.

Alright, what kinda problem you have and how can I help?

Smiling, Cristophe replies, "Yes, splendid!  Do try to play with the good guys this time though, if you would."

You take his hand and the world wavers about you...

I look at him with a questioning glance.

Define good....

I try and keep my feet as the world spins and worls

You tumble through the air, your arms flopping in ways arms are not supposed to, but there is no pain.  There is simply a distant, calm awareness that you've suffered an immense amount of damage.  Below you the pavement dives at your face...

You feel a pull, a compulsion....

You're standing in the waiting room where you had been. No one is moving. Someone sneezes, and his neighbor smacks him hard with a backfist to the chest.

Several people look up at you with sneers on their faces.

"Who's this punk?" One asks the room at large.

A reply in Mandarin sparks nasty laughter through the room.

PT

I shrug my shoulders and look about the room as if bored by my current surroundings.

I'm here for the job and I really don't have time to waste with the usual pleasantries of exchanging insults.

One of them makes a hand signal you're not familar with. The red capped man has an expression of contempt on his face.

The others shrug, and watch you with a predatory gaze as you walk up to the desk.

You get signed in, and the feeling of being the last hamburger on the grill with a bunch of hungry partygoers around you, subsides to a sense of simple neutral hostility.

A short Asian in a brown suit ensemble comes out, and begins yelling at them. He slaps a few heads.

"Leave him alone. No blood on my floor. I hate to clean it up." He turns to you. "They good boys. Just a little enthusiastic, yah?"

He hands you a key on a necklace, a map, and a hundred bahk.

I take the key and slip it around my neck and pocket the money. I hold the map in my hand and look at the man.

So whats my first job?

"Simple really." He takes you over to a map pasted on the wall.  It shows Taiwan and Mainland China at both edges of the map, and a city bridging the strait between them fills the map.

He touches a button twice, then once more impatiently. The button looks like its pasted to the wall.  The map flickers.

The city is now smaller and you see water on each side of it.

"Level Two, one level above the water. Don't go down to Level One. We don't mess with the Underside Dock Tongs." He acts like he didn't want to mention that to you. "Down there is a restauraunt. The Steel Drum. Its owner, Steve Berr something is a liar and a thief. He owes money to the honorable Miss Leikou, and so you are to collect three steel drums from the stage in his restauraunt. They were collateral."

He pauses.

"Simple really."

PT

I look at the map and study the layout of the city to get a better feel for where I have to go.

Nothing is ever simple.... So tell me, whats my cut of this?

"I just gave you a hundred bakh." He sighs. "Oh well. You bring them back, undamaged mind you, any damage comes from your cut, and I'll give you a hundred more."

After a bit of dickering, you get that raised to two hundred more.  Unfortunately, you get the feeling you're dealing with a professional haggler, and it would be most difficult to get more from him. Already he's insulted most of your ancestors, feigned deathly illness twice, and threatened to go back to his office and have you thrown out minus your teeth no less than four times.

"This is the greatest city in the world, not like your pitiful Paree with only two levels or the ruins of London with their three levels. We have eleven levels in Strait City. Han engineering much better than refugee man's engineers."

PT