They'll Kick You, Then They'll Beat You...
On the Mean Streets of Grudziaz
The swarm-like, primal drive of collective violence has lent this situation a momentum that can't easily be stopped. The approaching Red Army woman's shouts fail to move her erstwhile comrades- they either don't hear her or they simply just don't care. Furthermore, it's apparent to all present that if she is to make good on her threat to use violence, she'll be opening fire on a crowd of strangers and fellow Soviet soldiers both. Although some of the "merchants" tentatively respond to her call, the Soviet soldiers do not. The net result is the same- in effect, her bluff's been called.
Jan's rather sporting challenge is ignored, but being as he's stepped forward to present himself as champion, he becomes the alpha brawler's first target. Moved by instinct and herd mentality, the others pick their own marks and wade in. The free-for-all begins.
The alpha brawler lunges forward and throws a looping overhand right at Jan. The Czech sees the telegraphed punch coming and ducks under it. With the range between the two men so close now that he can smell the vodka-stink of the Russian's breath, Jan attempts to answer with a almost reflexive elbow strike to the head. However, by the time Jan's elbow comes around, his opponent's forward momentum has already carried him past, and the Czech catches nothing but air. The opening exchange would have been quite comical if the stakes weren't so high. The prospective audience, however, is too busy at the moment to notice.
The alpha's second hears Ana's imasculating aside and veers abruptly from his intended target (Tucker) towards the lippy woman. His straight right punch slips through Ana's upraised forearms and lands squarely on her left breast, driving her back a foot or two. It's a jarring, painful blow, one that she's definitely going to be feeling a while, but not one that's going to take her out of the fight for more than a few seconds. (Ana sustains 6 temporary damage to chest)
Seeing her teammate at the receiving end of a vicious punch, Lizzie launches an instant, one-woman counteroffensive. Trying to keep out of the brute's striking range, she throws a swift side kick at Ana's attacker. The heel of her boot makes solid contact with the man's midsection just above the belt, knocking him backwards, doubled over and gasping for air. With one well-timed kick, Lizzie's taken the upper hand and given her teammate enough time and space to get back into the fight.
Another Russian goes for Tuck. Wild haymakers seem to be the Russian gang's calling card this morning. Tuck gets his hands up in time to catch the full weight of the blow with his left forearm. It feels as though the Russian has hammers for fists. A white hot flash of pain bursts from the impact site; Tucker fears that his forearm might have just been broken. (Tucker sustains 6 damage to left arm.)
Craig steps and leans back to avoid a sweeping right hook thrown at his head. The punch misses his nose by millimeters. On his heels, Craig answers with a left hook that catches his assailant in the side of the head. Craig hadn't had the time to really put his hips into the punch, though, so it lacks power to fails to knock his opponent down or out. The successful strike does, however, buy him the initiative. The next move is clearly his.
Anders assumes a fighting stance and makes eye contact with his opponent. The rapidly approaching Russian drops his eyes, ducks low, and throws a punch at Anders' stomach. The Russian's fist slips underneath Ander's elbows and drives into the Finn's midsection. Fortunately, Anders contracts his abdominal muscles just in time to avoid getting the wind knocked out of him. He is, however, knocked backwards a couple of steps. (Anders sustains 5 temporary damage to abdomen.)
Konrad draws the kicker of the group. The Russian lashes out with his boot and the German can't quite get his left leg up in time to check the kick. The laces of the attacker's boot catch the side of Konrad's left leg just above the knee, the force of the blow almost spinning the German around. (Konrad sustains 3 temporary damage to his left leg.) If Konrad's left foot had been planted when the kick arrived, it's likely that his knee ligaments would have sustained some significant damage. Despite the the shock of the blow, Konrad is pleasantly surprised to find himself still standing. He's wise enough to know, however, that when the adrenaline wears off, his leg is going to hurt like hell.
Ana and Lizzie having drawn (and temporarily incapacitated) one of the seven chauvinistic attackers, Mariusz is somewhat surprised to find himself unscathed and unengaged- for the time being, at least.
Wisla Krolowa
At Griet's invitation, the Soviet officer and his two bodyguards cross the gangway and climb the cold external stairs towards the Krolowa's bridge. Three of the tug's four remaining security personnel (Thijs, Minh, Phillips, & Scully) are American, and all endeavor to make themselves scarce whilst still keeping an eye on the Red Army guests.
The staff officer steps onto the bridge and removes his fur Ushanka hat. It's not Red Army protocol. He appears to be in his mid-thirties, slim, of average height. He's balding prematurely, his hairline rapidly receding towards the crown of his head. What hair that remains is combed neatly. His Polish is quite good.
"Good morning, Captain. I am major Yuri Lagunov, 43rd Cavalry Division."
Niceties are exchanged and introductions made. With the requisite formalities taken care of, Lagunov begins to explain the nature of his visit, but not before asking a few pointed questions.
"You are a merchant, no?" he enquires, a hint of skepticism in his incongruously deep voice.
"From Krakow? That is a very long way. Surely, you have braved and bested many dangers on your journey to Grudziaz. And I take it that after you leave Grudziaz, you plan to carry on all the way to the Baltic coast?"
Griet's responses to this opening volley of questions are generally affirmative but noncommittal and completely lacking in any specifics.
"I see. My Commander, Major General Mikhail Zolnernowich, wishes to meet with you. He has a bit of business that he'd like to discuss. A job offer, of sorts."
He pauses, trying to read Griet's face.
"You're suspicious, I understand. You can't have travelled this far without being extremely cautious. And your crew, not all of them are Polish, are they? Perhaps some of them used to serve NATO, even. Yes. Let me assure you, Captain, we have no interest in your employees. The general's intentions are good. If we wanted your boat for ourselves, it would ours already. Surely, you know this. This is simply business, Captain. You are merchants and he has need of your services, that is all. If you'd rather not meet the general at his headquarters, he is willing to come here." He looks around the interior of the Krolowa's bridge, noting the soot stains, bubbled paint, shrapnel scouring. "May I suggest a neutral venue? The general's favorite café is not too far from here. I could send a jeep to pick you up, you and whoever you'd like to bring with you. Lunch will be our treat. Would that be acceptable?"
Your Move.
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This message was last edited by the GM at 17:32, Thu 25 June 2015.