On every world, in every dimension, through every plane there is a forest. Deep, dark and mystical, it is a place that the common folk of the worlds fear to tread. To those who enter, while dark and forboding, there is a sense of magic about this place.

As you walk deeper into the forest, you come across a path, wide enough for two to walk along easily. The path soon comes to a river, a river that flows quickly, but it is swimmable if you can swim. The path winds along the edge of the river until you come to a bridge, and across the bridge is a tavern.

Other than the tavern, the forest expands in all directions. All manner of wildlife can be found here, and it is possible to spend days, weeks even months wandering the forest. The only known way in or out of the forest is the path. Exploring in other directions simply takes through more and more trees. It is told that many have been lost by exploring.

Meriwether was lost & it was not for the first time. No matter how far or how many lands he had traveled, the Englishman was no woodsman... nay outdoors-man! Sure he had no qualms about roughing it yet he had always required the assistance of someone closer to the Earth than himself. He walked along the darkened path not altogether sure how he came to be here. Where ever here was?

The woods had a magical air about them. That did not mean they were not dark & somewhat foreboding as well. More than once his hands strayed to the pearl handles of his Navy Colts. There was a tingle along his spine as the hairs about his neck began to rise. He then remembered a few people of his past & how they would laugh at him if only they could see him now.

Their faces flitted before him... some smiling, some laughing in amusement, & others still shaking their solemn heads in disapproval. Running Fox who had guided him to Fort Laramie. Kaa Ju Hein, who had kept him from freezing to death outside Bent Creek, with her dark brown eyes showing disbelief that the greenhorn had not learned from past mistakes. Artemus Carson, who for a white man, seemed terribly good at tracking & home in the wild. They had brought the Loreman children to Springfield Missouri.

Meriwether was soon brought out of his reverie, as he spied a river & then a bridge which crossed it. What was that then? A homestead... Roadside Tavern?... A Country Inn? It did have a sign hung before the door. Glad for a respite from these Bloody woods, the Englishman made for it with all speed. He quickly crossed the bridge & made it to the Inn proper. The sign seemed weathered & old but a fresh coat of paint had placed a stylized wolf-head upon it.

The Shootist gave a silent shrug of his gaunt shoulders & pushed inside...
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:47, Sun 25 Jan 2009.

      Quintus walked deeper into the Baltic countryside. This forest held enemies of the Roman legions, but Quintus had been instructed to go ahead of the patrols. His uncle had displeased the Caesar, now Quintus was to pay for that. The trees closed behind him as he paced forward. He passed the Far Watch and nodded as he walked. Before he passed too far, he turned met the eyes of the Far guard and pulled his service gladius. Keeping the scabbard he drove the sword into the dirt. The Far guard would come and retrieve it when he has the chance, or not. At this point Quintus didn't care. He just hoped that his uncle had done what he had done for the right reasons. Pulling his cloak a bit closer around his shoulders Quintus hoped the Baltic warriors would give him a swift death.
      With a bit of surprise, Quintus noticed he was walking down a path, he recognized the tracks of horse and cart. This was not what he expected. The light was wrong. It seemed to emanate in the area instead of shining down from above or originate at a campfire. The sounds of the birds was strange. he recognized the hoot of the local owls, but there was the chirp of the swallows from back home. And many bird calls that he didn't recognize. Periodically there was the sound on the trail he walked upon of hoof striking stone. He hadn't seen any horses since leaving camp, but this didn't set him on edge. This forest wasn't the place for violence. It was eerie, but Quintus knew he would leave this forest before he died.
     With that assurance the Roman, continued to march forward. His military bearing showed as he glimpsed the building. How odd, thought Quintus as he approached, Very well built, if old. Nothing like what he had expected. The craftsmanship was wrong, the styling, the forest, it was all wrong, yet it was also the most right thing he had seen. "Now how do you suppose that?" With those words Quintus mounted the steps and stepped through the doorway.

Stepping outside the door, Sliver pulled it closed behind him. As he stood on the verandah, he let a quick glance flick back through the window at the blonde woman to whom he had been speaking. Adventure, fortune, and a seemingly forced retirement from her home. The latter, certainly, was something that he was familiar with.

His boots thudded softly on the stairs as he walked down them to the path below, but Sliver did not continue to follow the path. He walked a little ways from the tavern itself, standing in the clearing that swept up most of the area around the tavern on the other side from the river.

Slowly, he paced around the tavern, and soon he began to walk along the edge of the river.

He could not help but think that it was, perhaps, time to settle back into who he had been born to be.

She awoke with a start and a familiar stiffness within her joints. Sitting up slowly, she gazed around, carefully. It was sadly not the first time she was in such a state, but she was confident she had never been here before.

With a grimace Vanessa rose, checking that no harm had come to her and trying to remember how she’d gotten here.  She’d been on an assignment… things had been going horribly wrong… vague images floated past her minds eye and most of them surreal and inconsistent.

Taking in her surroundings, her eyes followed the path, to the bridge and the tavern ahead.  She wasn’t foolish enough to think that her colleagues would there.  Blakely wouldn’t have left her if he had options, certainly not to go for a pint.  But perhaps, there she could learn something about this strange place she found her self and deduce how she’d arrived here.

"Strange place to fall asleep, this close to accommodation." Sliver said, looking across at the woman on the path.

Stepping out from the trees was a lithe man, fairly average height, his body was slim but clearly well muscled. He swung a leather jacket over his shoulders, as though he had been carrying it while he was walking through the forest. His eyes, though, were intense, animalistic, even.

"Is everything okay, ma'am?" He asked, taking another couple of steps closer before he stopped.

Thanks for the observation. She said dryly, but wasn't going to volunteer to a stranger that she had no memory of going to sleep and had no idea why she was there.  Yes. I'm fine... thanks....It...was dark.  Well that was a lame explanation, but it was all she had at the moment.

She watched the stranger.  Come here often? She smirked at the bad joke, but hoped he might provide her some clues.

Garrett walked purposefully through the shadowed wood.  His elaborately decorated and eminently dangerous blade strapped to his left balanced by the seemingly anachronistic addition of the 44 automatic on his right. Clad in a nondescript but expertly tailored uniform that could not be dated or categorized to a particular culture let alone country.  He didn't fit any particular place let alone the dark shrouded forest he now traversed.  He carried a pack of dark material and bore several other miscellaneous devices about his person all with little in the way of identifying characteristics.

In the distance he caught sight of the tavern gripped the hilt of his sword and continued on as if expecting action at any moment.  He maintained the same cold stoic gaze as he approached the pair now entering the establishment.

Having picked up their conversation he forced a smile that didn't touch the rest of his face and in an oddly divergent accent he called out, "Hail, and well met."

Sliver took another step or two closer to the woman, but he certainly didn't appear to have any sort of concern or other reaction to her excuse, no matter how simple or complicated that it might have been as to her reason for being there.

He had learned over the years - particularly these last several, just how much humanity kept hidden secret. It hadn't been a thought to him prior to that, that there would be reason to hide anything from anyone, even intentions.

"Here? A couple of times." He said, looking up at the tavern. "I'm not much for social gathering these days though."

He turned, seemingly before Garrett had actually spoken, and his intense blue eyes stared across at the man who approached.

"To you too." He said.

Yeah, me either, usually. Vanessa glanced to the Tavern, wondering what kind of social gatherings were held.  Though nothing looked particularly sinsister...yet.

The sound of another, drew her attention and she studied him briefly.

Greetings. Vanessa answered as well, thinking that might be a safe response.  With the arrival of someone new, she took the opportunity to take a step back from Silver.

From the breif exchanges, she knew she was neither literaly or figurative in Kansas any more.  In fact, she was nowhere that she thought she even might be.  This was a mixed bag.  At least strange adventures were not out of the ordinary for her. The voice in her mind's ear, chuckling at that.

Gallus heard the gathering of people before he saw them. He changed his course to intercept these new contacts and was pleased to see different people than before. His large hulking frame, well over seven feet tall in his power armor, strode through the trees like a giant from mythology. "Does one of you pay fealty to the Emperor of Man?"

After receiving a greeting from the pair, Garrett approaches more openly releasing his grip and bows or more accurately nods to the two.  Facing Vanessa but with a slight glance at Sliver he responds, "Did I hear correctly that you have some experience within?  Perhaps we three could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement but first allow me to introduce myself.  I go by Garrett, Garrett Drake."

At the approach of the fourth he steps aside in the direction of Vanessa interposing himself slightly between her and the mechanized warrior.  After the battlesuit speaks he responds, "That title is unfamiliar."  He continues to eye the armor with suspicion even surveying the wood behind.  Just because he didn't feel like there was danger didn't mean old habits would die.

Sliver cursed himself for not detecting the approach of the hulking man that approached. At least, he thought it was a man, he couldn't be certain whether he was completely human or something else.

As Gallus approached, though, Sliver moved to a much more wary position, his knees bent, one hand hanging low as though ready to balance himself into a crouch if need be. He hadn't had a chance to answer Garret's question, instead, asked about fealty to some emperor.

"Don't recognize it here either." He said in response to Gallus.

Gallus removed his helmet and placed it under his arm, the service studs on his eyebrow giving off a faint glimmer. "It seems that I am still alone then. I was hoping that one of my battle-brothers would be here with me. It would be good to see a familiar face." He shifts slightly, his backpack giving off wisps of smoke as it vents exhaust. Whirs of gears can be heard as he moves, letting those around know that there is more to his armor than just protection.

"You never know, you might get lucky." He responded to Gallus disappointment. "You never know who's going to show up to a place like this."

He paused, looking along the path behind Garrat, the way they had entered.

"You never know who's never going to show up again, either." He added.

Vanessa had not known how to answer the giant's question and was happy the others had. It was definately her experience that answered questions did not meet with the best of receptions.

She had also gotten the odd impression that somehow these two were trying to protector her from this new... being.  A moment of indignance, nagged at her.  She had taken care of herself just fine... on the other hand, where WAS she??

Vanessa had often prided herself on having seen it all, or at least a lot, but the... being before as he took off his helmut was more than intriguing.  With difficulty, she drew her eyes away from him, back to the others.  She had also learned in the past, it wasn't polite to stare.

If you don't mind...where, exactly are we? She knew that the question would tip her hand slightly, but then surely her naivete about her surroundings would do that also.  Perhaps better to be straightforward about that.

"That is a question I have as well."

The large man who walks up is dressed in a 21st century suit.  Dwarfed by the man in powered armor, he still stands at well over 2 meters and is solidly built.  Despite his size, he made no noise as he approached.  Even now, each step is taken with slow deliberation, there is something unnatural about the way he moves, and despite the darkness, he wears dark sunglasses.

"Where has that painted keeb dropped me now?"

"If there are no answers here, then I shall retire back to the building." With that he turned and walked back towards the inn.

With the large seemingly non human scary guy heading toward the Tavern, Vanessa turned her attention to the new, semi scary human guy who'd now arrived.  He was of a type at least that she was more familiar with, and felt a little better that he too had seeminly no idea where they were.

Misery loves company? she thought.

She glanced to Silver, he seemed to be the most likily to provide some kind of answer.

The voice has little inflection in it.

"Sorry... I don't mean to be rude, the name is Mason."

He offers his left hand forward, keeping his right clear.

"What did he mean, 'building'?"

Upon Gallus' announcement that he would be retiring for the evening, "Good evening then, soldier."  He spoke with a degree of familiarity bound from years of experience with warfare and those that wage it.

To Mason he nods without accepting the outstretched left, "Well, I extend my invitation to you as well then, sir."

After Vanessa spoke to Sliver, "Yes, but why don't we move inside for the answers we all seem to seek."

With the assumption that he will eventually be followed he enters the establishment, wiping his boots and removing his pack as he goes.

[To: The Wolf's Head Tavern]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:13, Wed 04 Feb 2009.

"You know what, a drink might help the explanation of all of this go down easier." Sliver said, chuckling lightly and following Garrett towards the tavern.

"Name's John, by the way." He said, looking at each of those who might be joining him on the short walk to the tavern.

"A bar huh... very well.  Follow the path I guess."

Mason waits for others to go before starting out himself, his head slowly moves from side to side.  The style of dress of these people is odd to say the least.  He was used to seeing people carrying swords around, but some of the other weapons were just plain odd.  Plus that powered armor, that was beyond any tech out there, and he kept up on tech.  He wasn't sure whether or not even the APDS rounds would crack open that tin can, didn't matter too much, the joints might be armored, but never as much, if it came to that, he should really have and Anti Vehicular Missile.

Vanessa. She answered, still skeptically looking between the others.

Going to the tavern did not seem the greatest of ideas to her.  She'd much rather have answers, but that didn't seem to be going to happen.  Since she didn't want to stay out in the woods, she sighed and fell into step with the other.

So... John? We need a drink to have this explained? She prodded.

[To Tavern]

"Going from experience, it usually helps to have something to settle the nerves." He said to Vanessa, before standing aside, letting the other three climb the steps to the tavern first.

Talon ran foreward in the forest.  The ogres had been chasing him for a while now, and he was getting exhausted.  Looking around, he realized that the forest was different...darker somehow.  Slowing down, he listened for sound of prusuit, hearing none, he started to look for a path or something to lead him out of the forest.

Following what he believed to be a game trail, he followed it to a river.  Looking for a bridge or some way across, he decided to try it in a different way.  Reaching into his belt pouch, he pulled out a small vial.  Pouring the powder onto the ground, he chanted in the old language, causing the powder to rise up and solidify.  Stepping on the now solid disc, he rode it across the river.

Wandering farther along, he spotted the tavern, seeing the lights, he wandered foreward, hoping that the ones inside were friendly.

<To Tavern>

As Mason goes down the path he starts to build up speed.  As he approaches the place he entered this world, he is at a dead run.  He pulls the gun from the holster and is ready to reenter his own where and when.  When he left, there was a lot of lead flying around.  No telling what he will be returning to.

A portal of space and fire appeared near the bridge, a lone figure peering through the distorted space, examining it.

A moment later a floating metal eye came through, scanning the area just before a tall robed figure stepped into the path, his eyes a bright red as he quickly looked around, unsure of his surrounding.

The portal snapped shut with the sound of thunder, rolling and echoing into the woods.

Hmm.. seems that the spell worked.. now where in the gods name am I?

Getting in and out hadn't been so bad.  Minimal resistance.  Though he has not been gone long, Mason is moving back through the woods, this time at a steady walk.

[From The porch]

Finding a clearing, not far from the Tavern, but far enough not to be overheard or watched, Vanessa stopped, sighed, and let Slick down from her shoulder since he obviously wanted to sniff around.

So...the punchline, if you've not already figured this out.  I refused to get married til this particular case was resolved, and the case was never going to be resolved, because my Agent partner, my finance, was the murderer... Vanessa gazed up at the tree branches, avoiding looking at Mason, I suppose this is kind of a compliment, in a strange way. If he couldn't marry me, then he wanted me dead... It was a sunday morning, he went out for a run and was going to bring back coffee....

She took a deep breath, she'd not talked about this for years.

I was in that half sleep state, and thought I heard something funny...I got up, took my gun, on instinct, and went into the kitchen.  Our killer always left these lovely poems near the victim, after he strangled them, always with scaves with roses on them.  I went into the kitchen... there was a poem on the fridge.  He said, "Hey Nes."  I turned.  I registered the scarf in his hands.  He took two steps toward me. I said stop.  He took a third and I put a bullet into his head and the second into his heart.

She shook her head and turned back to Mason.  But the worst part, She chuckled at this, most people back home would think her crazy. A week latter, he showed up and told me he was going to make my life miserable and he's followed me quite literally into hell an back to do just that.

She paused, looking at Mason, waiting for him to decide she was a lunatic, walk away or such.  If he did, she certainly couldn't blame him.

In the dark it is hard to see the Mason shake his head.  Yes, a parallel to his own story, except for the ghost part.  He knew how difficult that story must have been to say.  He wasn't going to make it any harder by asking stupid questions.

"Ok, that clears up who the ghost is.  After this is over, I will tell you about my time with the NYPD Inc.  I see a small clearing up ahead it would probably be best set up there."

She smiled in thanks, and gave a nod, following Mason to the clearing and making sure Slick came along also.

So... She examined the gun.  He arrives, our little friend attacks, I shoot.  Done? She asked, all the while making sure she knew how the equipment in her hand worked.  It sounded too simple.  Way too good to possibly be true.

"Sounds like a plan.  I will back your play."

Mason sets the duffel bag down, opening it up and pulling out a couple of hand guns that seem to be mounted in an electronic housing.  He rests his right hand on the top of one of them as he points it first at himself, then Vanessa then Slick.  He mounts one on each side of the clearing, pointing out.

"Miniture Sentry guns with image recognition software, don't worry, they are armed with non lethal ammo."

He removes the Katana and takes off the great coat.  It is now obvious that he has a shoulder holster, a hip holster and cross draw holster.  All of them holding different guns.  He reloads the hand gun in the cross draw holster and puts the Katana at his waist.

"This gun is loaded with the same ammo as yours, but I am just here as back up.  This is for you to deal with."

Curious, Vanessa was momentarily sidetracked by the guns.  She nodded that she had heard and followed Mason, but she wandered in for a closer inspection.  You're world is definatley something else. She said softly.

In addition to her 'little problem', she had been on some adventures in which these weapons would have come in so, so very handy. She sighed, no point in dwelling on that... especially at the moment.

She glanced around, suddenly nervous.  This could be easy.  Kevin arrives, shoot him.  Been there.  Done that. Bought the t-shirt.  And that had been under duress.  It wasn't like she had any duress any more. She would love to shoot the sorry son-of...  Any upset and guilt she'd felt had long worn away like a marriage gone bad.

Retrieving the ammo from her waist, she loaded the gun.  Verified again that she understood how it worked.  Checked again that she knew where both Mason and Slick were and which direction the Tavern lay.

She knew by instinct that Mason wouldn't allow a situation in which her shot might hurt anyone out and about, but she still strategically positioned each of them to assure no harm could come.

Ready? She asked, asking herself as much as he.

"Ready.  One more thing, the FAB Strain III rounds have no affect on living creatures.  You could equate it to being hit with a paintball.  It will sting, but no lasting damage."

Vanessa nodded again, reassured. Okay. She gazed at Mason.

This would be the hardest part...But then again, maybe not...

With the gun ready, but down at her side, she stepped up to the man. Thank you. She said sincerely, and streched up, her lips barely brushing his cheek. It was heartfelt, certainly, but also the surest way to get audience.

For Vanessa, at least, and clearly for Slick, the electricity in the air altered palpably.  It was an acrid, shimmer, like heat off pavement, yet icy cold.  In a column behind her forming like the attraction of dust mites in sunlight a shape was forming.

Shimming translucent the shape formed of a young man, thirties, his hair a little long, his dress casual.  His skin unnaturally pale, however, and as he was clearly agitated, the dark spot between his eyes stood in sharp contrast like a grotesque Bindi.

She could hear him long before any image was clear.  Their anger had stopped being the heated emotional ravings years ago.  For that, there still had to be feeling.  Now it was sharp, cold steel slicing thru fire.  He spoke low, no longer melodic to her, but a viper’s hiss.

He always spoke calmly, despite at times matter of factly saying the most vile of insults. In recent years this too had stopped having the edge of heat, and were cold and calculated, designed to seep into one’s bones and the chill to linger.

She’d been working on not listening, but to simply hear the hissing.  She still caught isolated words.  Enough to know he didn’t want any heartfelt positive sentiments directed at anyone but himself, and since that was not likely…  But she could tell by the isolated words that penetrated her defenses he had no idea what was happening, or what she hoped was about to happen.

Like all things of great magnitude, the moment was both instantaneous and eternal.  Vanessa dared not look at Mason nor the creature that was now growling.  Trusting that Mason’s words were true and the gun in her hand would harm only her intended target,  she waited till the hiss was steady.  The comfortable sound of a train coming to station or a tea kettle about to whistle, and as she’d done eight years early, turned and without hesitation fired in direct aim.

She might have fired off two or three rounds, she had no idea.  Once sited, fired, eyes open, but not seeing.

Everything he had told her, about the FAB Strain III bacteria was true.  It was down right lethal to spirits of all types.  It had been  the "final solution" for cleansing Chicago of the insect spirit invasion.  The problem was that it had left the city spiritually dead.  Any thing that had lived in the spirit world had been killed.  Most people didn't understand what that meant, there are spirits everywhere.  Every house had home spirit.  They all died.

Mason stands ready, without a hand on a weapon.

She vaguely registered Slick nipping at something.  It reminded her of a puppy in her youth that had long vacated her memory.  Kevin..dissipated was probably the word for it.

She knew it was real as a cylindrical dead spot appeared before her. She paused a beat.  Skeptical.  Her hands formally holding the gun steady dropped to her side and she took a few steps toward the area, still disbelieving.

Could it be over?  So easy? So simple.  So long in coming. It certainly wasn't real to her, but it was quiet.

She stood, expectant, waiting for a long minute.

Finally, still silent, she turned to look inquisitively  at Mason.  She tilted her head in question, the wariness in her expression and the doubt in her eyes.  The only sounds natural forest sounds.  Slick, snuffled along the same area, though he seemed more disappointed then doubtful.

"They just disappear when they are destroyed.  And I have never heard of one coming back later."

He stands motionless, waiting to see what Vanessa will do next.  To dispatch an enemy that has been hounding you... if only it was so simple for him.  His enemies were not individuals though, but large groups and organizations.

She laughed a little and turned in a slow circle.  It certainly didn't seem possible.  A little anticlimactic huh? She smiled at him. Any realization of it being over, after so much time was hard to assimilate. She quickly went back to her slow circular assessment of the area.

Though, Hollywood fanfare and I'd not believe that either. It was more a mutter to herself.  She'd seen many strange things in the past 10 years, The jewels with the greatest worth never shine the brightest when mined. She went on, in the same muttering manner.

I think this is going to take me awhile to really believe. Vanessa smiled again, coming full circle back to face Mason.

She wanted to test it...but her only sure fire way to 'call' Kev, she was no longer comfortable with.  But for the first time it dawned on her, if this HAD worked... and it certainly appeared that it had...there would be a freedom that she'd forgotten possible.  The weight was certainly not lifted from her shoulders, that would take time, but the notion that it could be so, was overpowering. I... I... I don't know how to thank you. She spoke sincerely.

"Don't worry about it."

Mason walks over to Slick who's hair stands up and he hisses up at him.  He smiles down at the stretched out little rat.

"He really doesn't like me much, they can tell how much of me has been replaced.  Each round you fired cost about what your average wage slave earns in a week, and it doesn't matter to me.  I have over six million nuyen worth of modifications.  I am the ultimate display of what technology can do.  I have had my peripheral nervous system replaced with hard wires.  A normal human's reaction is based on a series of chemical reactions that travel from nerve to nerve.  My reactions move at the speed of light.  I regret it sometimes.  Sometimes I wish I could go back to what I was.  I have talked more in the past few hours here than I have in... quite a few years.  I think I should tell you about some of my ghosts now."

As Mason and Vanessa stand there wondering if the encounter truly is over, Slick raises up on his hackles and starts to hiss at the air.  A horrid screeching voice comes from no where.

"Be careful when you call to the void little girl.  You never know what will come.  Right lover!"

The apparition that appears before you is horrid, a tattered and torn woman with a bleeding hole in her fore head.  The remains of a blue jump suit can be seen.  Before even the enhanced reflexes of the Samurai can react, the apparition is gone.

The ferret scampers over to Vanessa and starts to whimper.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:57, Thu 26 Feb 2009.

It was only a short time before Gallus had reached the glade. His burst in, his chainsword whirling and bolt pistol raised. His gaze never left the middle of the clearing."Someone has disturbed the Warp. I can feel it a keenly as a blade. What have you unleashed?" For him, it usually meant one of the psykers on the battlefield had been possessed or mutated into a demented spawn of evil.

As the Space Marine enters the small clearing, the small furry creature called Slick hisses not at him, but at something behind him.  The rodent quickly curls up behind Vanessa with a whimper.  Behind Brother-Sergeant Gallus is not a single specter but legion.  Thousand, tens of thousands.  One of them detaches itself from the crowd, another Space Marine.  The helmet is off, tucked under the arm.  The face is vaguely familiar.

"Everyone bears their own ghosts Brother."

Gallus turned to face the familiar voice. The ghost was still hazy, but he could make out the features of his armor that marked him as one of the Skyhawks Chapter. Gallus lowered the bolt pistol and smiled through the grill of his helmet.

"And those that do learn from them, carry the memory of the fallen so that their sacrifice will not be in vain. That is the creed to our Brothers that we make today. A solemn vow to never forget."

The ending of the pledge came natural. It came because it was true. The Skyhawks were one of the most superstitious Chapters, distrusting things that played with the immaterium and knowing that all fallen Brothers walked beside the Emperor. It was true that many a Skyhawk had gone to battle with no better reason than an insult to their dead.

Vanessa was unfazed by the ghostly apparitions.  She turned to Mason, She yours? She asked puzzled, she had never seen the dead woman before.

This doesn't make a lot of sense. She mused, picking up Slick and tucking him like a fur chollar around her neck.

Gallus. Never mind the theatrics.  Do you recognize the faces of the ghosts?  Do you know them, specific?  Not this 'oh,oh,oh solidiers' generic. I know you're honorable, I want to be clear, did YOU personally KNOW any of those faces?  She asked the large man.

Mason who had drawn his sword and gun, holsters the gun and sheathes the sword.  He stares first at the Gallus then at the apparitions.

"Yes... she is... an old memory."

Gallus never turned away from the man. He knew who it was. Since he heard the voice, he knew. The features the were once blank and fuzzy now stuck with crystal clarity. The large emblem of the Chapter stood above the large laurels of olive leaves surrounding a roman V, standing for the Fifth Company. He new it all too well.

"He is my mentor, Sergeant Novus, of the Fifth Company, Skyhawks Chapter. We served for two centuries together, defeating the enemies of the Emperor. He was cut down when we lost our flank during a Tyranid infestation. I personally recovered his body so that his gene-seed could live on."

Vanessa nodded.  Perhaps Mason's ghost was not a happy one, but she didn't see any overt reason why Gallus's shouldn't be. Okay. She said to the men, and stepped around Gallus who seemed to not be moving.

Hello.  My name is Vanessa.  What is that you want? She asked the apparitions speaking in a firm, but not unfriendly tone.

"Brother, you disappoint."

The ghost hovered a little closer to the Space marine.  Holes begin to form in his armor, as well as his face, but fade soon after they form.

"If you will not explain then I will. It was not by the Tyranids that I fell that day."

a couple of hundred yards behind Gallus, Garrett arrived in the area with the spirits between himself and the others.  Sword in hand he scanned the army between himself and the others with his eyes glowing red.  He could see mystical forces comprising the spirits.  With a thought, he sent two small points of light from the blade's hilt travelling into the air giving him another vantage.

He silently considered the army, evaluating its form, disposition and arrangement.  He couldn't make out the conversation but felt the focus of the situation was around Gallus and the others and attempted a deliberate flanking  maneuver in that general direction.

Gallus didn't move, he was fighting with himself. Novus was dead, caught in the clutches of a Hive Tyrant as he held the thing off for his squad to retreat to a more defensible position. Gallus had watched him speared by the beast's vicious, long blades it called arms. Gallus had taken a lascannon from a dead Devastator Marine and liquefied the thing. Novus had died soon after, Gallus retrieving the body of his mentor when the wave had been repelled.

Images of the scene flashed through his mind. Novus was standing before him. It was bad luck to meet a ghost, so his Brothers said. Why was he here?

"Novus fell to a Hive Tyrant, speared through the chest. There is nothing more to tell."

"Drake," came a voice from behind from the branch. "Stay your blade. It is just Aramendel."

The elf sat perched on the the second tier or branches, staring at the clearing. The spirit army was grouped in sight, but seemed to meld into one being.  He could only hear a few words between the marine and the lone spirit, nothing that could explain anything. "This isn't our fight, General. This is Gallus' but it seems Master Mason and Miss Vanessa are caught in the middle. If something happens, back up the marine, I don't think he can do much equipped as he is. Let us just pray it doesn't come to that."

The specter of Novus moved in close to Gallus. It seemed to tower over him as it slowly made itself grow with his words.

"It was a fight that should not have been, Brother. You knew better, you knew that we were not ready for the mission, Brother. Many of our men died in that fight, Brother.  You knew your orders were misinformed, Brother."

"My orders were to hold the line. I was a Sergeant then, as I am now. I had no say in which orders we carried out, only that the Chapter Masters knew what they were doing for it was their orders. You knew the stakes as well as me. We are Space Marines and do not cringe from battle. You of all should know, you taught me. We had served for nigh on two centuries together. We were ready, the Tyranids are a bitter and tough foe."

The more the specter talked the more Gallus knew something was amiss. Novus knew as well as any other Skyhawk, maybe even more so, that Space Marines were always ready. They had been prepared for a defense and had fought hard. Many did die, but a hive fleet was driven away, no easy task. Novus knew the risks, as did they all.

"I did teach you, but I also taught you that orders can only be as useful as the information that leads to them, Brother.  I also taught you that the better fight was the smarter fight, Brother. The line was doomed too be flanked and you knew it, Brother. You could have changed the plans and protected your men, your Brothers."

Every word seemed to get louder, and every time the specter repeated 'Brother' his face would flash blue.

"And you also know why I chose to stand! Those men did not die in vain! Yes, the flank fell, but if I had turned to face the horde, our center would have had no support and the entire facility would have fallen. I chose duty, Brother. You know the creed! THE EMPEROR BLESSES THE DUTIFUL, FOR THEY SERVE HIS WILL! FAITH ABOVE HONOR, DUTY BEFORE DEATH! These are the words you taught me! Be at rest spirit for you are not Novus! Novus sacrificed himself to save the entire planet. He would not moan of self-service and loyalty to brother before duty. BEGONE SPIRIT!"

His voice was loud and clear, amplified by the voxcaster in his armor. He moved closer to face the spirit head on. Behind the visor of the helmet, he held a stern gaze. No longer was he unsure, no longer was he doubtful. He was a Space Marine! He shall stand and fight or die trying. Novus would know, he did it.

The spirit let out a bellow and hardy laugh.

"Perceptive, Brother"

The spirit began to warp and twist, still keeping the same shape but all the details of the face began to fade as his eyes turned to a Daemonic red.  The face settled finally appearing melted and stretched across the bone. His armor seemed normal, but corroded.

"Always like you brainwashed. . . the moment something doesn't make sense you call to your emperor."

Mason again draws the glorified air pistol.  The barrel pointed down.  18 rounds in this weapon.  Really three round minimum to put one of these specters down.  No spare clip either.  Why hadn't he thought to get more ammo.  Because he had never needed it.  He never did a run without magical support.  Now he is stuck in the woods without Dream Walker, Peppin or Max.  Frag it.

"Vanessa, the gun is empty.  That only holds 6 rounds."

He knew he could hold them off, the whip would hold them at bay, but it couldn't really kill them.  Kill isn't really the right word, disrupt them, banish them from this plane.

"That is yet to be seen.  For the time being though, I concur."  Garrett kept his blade drawn watched the situation unfold.

He carefully moved to the tree under Aramendel, "I'll cover you in the event things turn.  Unfortunately, I will only be able destroy them one at a time."  He didn't appear worried but neither did he appear particularly anxious to engage an army either.  With his left he reached into his uniform and pulled a flask and drank the contents before tossing it aside.

This wasn't good. Even if he could damage them, there was still too many.  The elf decided to shift his focus to the crowd of spirits.  Something about them did not seem right. Many of the phantoms were fading in and out of sight.

"I think we may be in luck. They don't look corporeal. That gives us time, they can only do so much if they haven't bound to the plane yet."

He looked down at the soldier, then back up to the crowd. Praying his observation was correct, he took a deep breath.

"We need to get closer," he said jumping to the forest floor. He started heading around to his left, circling the clearing.

She'd thought she'd only fired three rounds, but she had no real idea. Something's weird. She answered Mason, following the back and forth between Gallus and the spector.

Gallus was annoying in many ways but they were the nostalgic, self pitting ways.  In fact, the very things that made him annoying would be the antithesis of what would make this scene make sense.  He would have had to have been a very different character for what the spector to be saying to be accurate and personality change did not seem feasible for Gallus's past.  Though she did agreed, Gallus was seemingly brainwashed, at easy lament calling his emperor, dead colleagues.... Exactly, this was weird.

She saw Aramen and Drake opposite, and hoped they didn't try anything.  She had to wonder, how many of these others had travesed what her world called hell?  She'd seen this kind of thing before. Zagan? Pryo?  But there was no proof of that or which, and it mattered.

Nergal?  He would be happy about Kevin.  Would he come if she called to him?

Brother-Sargent Gallus,She hoped she'd gotten that right, she hoped that it might encourage the the Marine to listen to her. Ask him what he wants. She suggested calmly, softly, but firmly.  It should give them, at least her, information. And clearly the spector wanted to talk to Gallus.

He stood his ground under the tree making a gesture for the elf to hold his ground rather than approach, "I advise against approaching.  At this time they don't seem to care about us and there is a chance the situation will resolve on its own if we let it.  If we povoke a physical response we will endanger those on the other side."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:05, Fri 27 Feb 2009.

Gallus drew his bolt pistol up and aimed it at the specter.

"Foul Chaos wretch!Yes, I do call on the Emperor in times of need. He is my light, a beacon against your foul kind. You would have me to sway so easily, to fall to your words? I could say the same things about you, calling to your foul gods when in need, ever placing yourself above others. I know my place and it will rise in due time. Until then I will not dream of glory and power, for I look at you and see where that path ends."

The elf bent over and found a small flower. Lavender. He looked up to examine the woods around him, he realized what was so odd about the forest.
"This is a warring ground."
He turned to face Drake. "I don't intend to provoke, but I think I have an idea. You are well traveled. Look at the foliage. Every plant here is used for various divine rights, blessed and profane alike. If we gather up holy plants we may have something to at least keep them at bay. Ivy, Aloe, Wolfsbane, fill your flask and light it."

Vanessa rolled her eyes.  Gallus was either ignoring her or in his own world.  Though either was possible, she actually suspected the latter, which meant if he fired his weapon at his "ghost" there would be risk he'd shoot thru the spector and hit some unintended target, like Aramen or Drake.

Can you get him to ask? Or ask yours? She asked Mason quietly, and began to back away slowly, hoping to circle round and get the other two out of the way.  Her best chance she figured was to point out the situation to Aramen, and hope Drake listened to him.

"Foolish Marine. In death I have had the glory I so deserved. My only regret is that my service has come to an end. But as you arrived here, I realized, it does not have to end."

The Chaos Marine reached over to touch the marine. His hand passed through the helmet and his skin. Where he made contact begins to feel cold.

"I am not able to impart strong force to living flesh. And as I watched battle after battle of my brethren as they progress across the galaxies, I felt useless that I could not interact with their world to assist them. But here. . . AH, but here i can interact with the the unnatural and nonliving, especially by temperature."

The phantom withdrew his hand, "You may ask why that matters. But what makes you so superior to the common man?"

The Marine never flinched. He stood still as a tree.

"My glory is not my own,but the Emperor's. I am superior only in physique and nothing else. I have seen men of the Guard with as much zeal and faith as a Chaplain. I have seen peasants with the courage to rise against your bretheren. I carry the stregth of the Emperor's people. I am his will and their arm. I am death incarnate."

He lowered the pistol and holstered it, doing the same to the chainsword. He then reached up and removed his helmet. The tattoo of a double headed eagle on his neck. He lowered the helmet to the ground and redrew his weapons.

"Let us end this then. Take form wraith and prove that you deserve your glory, otherwise haunt the hell you came from. But be warned and know this."

He smiled a cruel smile. He signaled Vanessa to flank around with his lowered sword hand.

"Marines don't die, they just go to hell to regroup. We will find you and you shall face a reckoning."

"Due time, for I am having, So. Much. Fun."

The other spirits began to get anxious. In some of their ghostly hands held primitive weapons. Some axes, but mainly clubs. Others without weapons began fading in and out of sight.

"Did you ask yourself how I knew about your fallen Brother? Because it was still in your mind. That moment was still there, filled with repressed doubt.  I also see many other moments of doubt.  If you feel such doubt, why blindly obey? No, don't answer that. I will for you." The spirit's voice changed to match Gallus'.

"GLORY FOR THE EMPEROR. FOR I AM BUT A TOOL FOR HIS GLORIOUS WILL."
His voice returned to normal.
"What has he done for you? He turned you into a soldier. But did he do that for you? No, he did it for himself. For his will, for his greed, for his ambition. You aren't even human anymore. A human has free will. You, Brother, Are a puppet."

The phantom then reached for the chest of the marine, trying to pierce it with his incorporeal hand.

With a blinding speed, Mason aims the pistol at the ghost and puts a three round burst of FAB Strain III bacteria into it.

The spirit riled back as the shot seemed to burn expanding holes into where it received the rounds. As the holes expanded the figure managed to utter

"It has been planted......."

The other phantoms begin to soar closer to the others. Those with weapons trailing behind those without. Groups of about 5 spirits each approached the 3 is the clearing.

Pushing the last ivy leaf into his only torch which he took from his side pouch, Aramendel looked up and saw he was out of time.  The torch was oiled and ready but he didn't have time to light it.
"Drake! We need to move!"

He slid the torch back into his pouch, it seeming to disappear into the seemingly small bag and reached over his shoulder and under his cloak. He then sprinted to the north end of the clearing, coming to a sliding halt. Aramen then ripped the sheath off his ankle, dropped it on the ground and notched the arrow he drew before into his new bow.

"May her blessing be with me"

The ranger released an arrow towards the leading ghost chasing towards Vanessa.

"If I am a puppet for greater means, then so be it. I serve for Man." With that and taking advantage of Mason's distraction he pulls back and resets himself, aiming the bolt pistol at the specters.

"Emperor, guide my hand, steel my soul, bring death to those that defy you. I am your will on this mortal coil, bless me to do your bidding."

And having complete the Litany of Battle, he charges in, firing his blessed bolter rounds at the nearest target. He has a smile and song of battle upon his lips.

No. Vanessa tried to cry out, but things had moved too fast.

Mason's funky weapon might work on the undead, but her general experience and she had had quiet a lot, was that there was no weapon outside of Mason's that worked to rid ghosts  In Hell, weapons might harm demons, though not destroy, take out hellhounds, sure, but if these were truly spirits of the dead, it would just hurt the rest of them.

She dropped fairly quickly, and nearest to Drake, pulled him down with her, before errant flying bullets filled the air in the area.  He'd probably be annoyed with her for it. He'd probably tell her she was a stupid little girl and bullets went thru him.  And if so, he can stand up and be shot at. The voice in her head scoffed.

This is not the way to handle nasty p-ed off spirits. She hissed generally to herself, annoyed.

The lead spirit chasing after Vanessa was stunned momentarily as the arrow burned it. It wasn't defeated, but it felt locked in place, at least for now. The woman was able to roll away from his attack because of this.

It was similar for the ghosts hunting Gallus. Each one he shot was frozen in the air, slowly trying to regain their mobility. Each one getting more mobile as time goes on.

The 4 spirits continued to go towards Mason while one spirit tried to go after the little ferret.  A large club raised, a spirit took a heavy swing at Mason.

It worked, at least for now.

Aramendel reached and grabbed another arrow and launched it towards another nearby spirit. Alright that's all for now, time to move. He reached down and grabbed his knife, and in one swift motion tossed the sheathed blade to Vanessa.

"Vanessa, use the dagger!"

Without taking the time to explain he sprinted into the middle of the clearing, firing another arrow on the way.

It's time for the whip.  Mason's left hand extends, moving in a wide arc over his head.  The tip of his finger comes off and seems attached by an invisible string, a mono-filament whip.  While not truly only one molecule thick, the energized whip could cut through almost anything.  High tech weapons were rarely able to kill spirits, but this one hurt like he@$ and would prevent any of them from getting close.  He had used this trick before.  The gun came up again and three more rounds impact into the spirit charging at Slick as Mason steps cleanly over him.  Each round burns as it hits the non substantial being.  The round itself not touching anything but the bacteria starting to eat away at the spirit creature.  He can't let that rat die, he had brought him here.  Dream Walker wouldn't care if he gave the rodent away, but if told his chummer that he had gotten it killed, he would never hear the end of it.

To himself he mumbles:
"12 rounds left."

Vanessa caught the dagger and offered thanks.  With a slight shove, that she felt a little, but only a little badly for, she made sure Drake ws well out of the way.

She hadn't been aware that the spirit was chasing her or she wouldn't have moved.  She was just trying to make sure the disagreeable old man was fine.

She also had no intention of harming any of the spirits unless absolutely necessary.  Noting where the other wild one, Gallus, was, Vanessa stood and strode toward the spirit.

Who exactly are you and what is it that you want? She demanded.  She'd 'worked' with spirts and travel half the roads of Hell.  The dead, even the evil dead were always calculating.  If attempts at fright didn't work, they didn't bother with the living.  The living were no fun.  Only if they could be baited were they fun.

And she had had the personal oath of the the head of Hell's policing agency at least of humans, that if she ever found a way to eradicate Kevin, it was sanctioned.  So... the most likelihood were that these spirits had an agenda to frighten or wanted something particular.

Having been paying attention to the spirits he hadn't been aware of Vanessa's approach.  After rolling to his knees from the shove several rounds whizzed by.  His assumption about the bolt guns had been it was gauss based and probably armor piercing which would have possed a problem for his nano-mesh reflex armor to stop.

As Vanessa moved on into the crowd he called out, "Ahh... thanks."  He hadn't really expected that sort of behavior and was rather surprised.

He then began to follow the elf and Vanessa into the melee.  His experience with spirits of this type was limited but the always had a physical anchor to reality.  Then again they were no longer in the reality they came from...  Unless Gallus had it.

With a yell, "Gallus, are you carrying anything that might be a focus for them?  A souvenir of battle?"  He new it relied on the assumption the laws of nature were similar enough that it might matter.

Finally he was behind the spirit she was facing and jammed his hand into it from behind.  He was left open on his left since his right held his sword and his left was engulfed in ephemeral entity.  He had only done this once before...  With a grimace at the cold he began to unravel the spirit, eating away its spiritual essense, providing it a permanent rest.

Gallus was in his battle lust, matching even the eager youngbloods of the assault squads. He sidestepped and swerved, using all of his techniques that he knew. He heard the old man's question and knew what he was getting at.

"I am a souvenir! I have carried most of my equipment for centuries."

He knew it wasn't the answer he was looking for, but it was the only answer that the old man was going to get for now. He continued to take on the specters with super-human speed. He would not tire for a long time.

He mumbled in response as he continued to strangle the spirit and fend off those on his right, "That makes sense, but also means we are pretty much screwed..."  He redirected his attention to the spirit flailing on the end of his fist like a flame in a lantern as the wick was turned down.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:07, Sun 01 Mar 2009.

The only word audible enough and intelligible Vanessa would be able to hear from the raging Chaos spirit was the hiss of "Glory from the Daedric." It raised its club and made a motion to strike.

Meanwhile the two spirits that were shot with arrows turned to their attacker when they were able to move again and began to move upon the elf.

Mason's whip and Gallus' gun seemed to be keeping them at bay but they seemed to just be waiting for Gallus to reload.

The ranger saw the spirits turning to him and yelled aloud something in orc that could only loosely be translated as "Giant Wolf Excrement"

Back tracking and circling the ghosts he reached into his pack and pulled the torch. When he had a clear line of sight he tossed it to Mason, shouting, "Mason, Light it!"

He could only trust that his throw was accurate because the next thing he saw was an axe coming down. He rolled to avoid it but was clipped a bit on the left arm.  He pulled an arrow and tried to take a shot, but the searing pain from the cut made it hard to aim, it was more luck than skill that the phantom turned into the shot as it left the bow, giving him time get to his feet to run back over to Vanessa and Drake.

Gallus could feel the brushes of the weapons of the ghosts, some passing through him and his armor alike, some ringing off the ceramite plating. Each time an arm or weapon passed through he felt cold, and if not for his iron will he might have started to lose hope. He growled fiercely and started to speak loudly, but to no one in particular.

"Emperor! Bless my sword so that it may be an instrument of your will and drive the warpspawn of this world back to the hell they came from!"

He then began to sing a war song in a loud voice. He had done it often enough for his men during battle and it helped keep the fighting spirit, drive his super-human brothers to even greater feats.

"You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars
I've been living on the edge so long, where the winds of limbo roar
And I'm young enough to look at, and far too old to see
All the scars are on the inside
I'm not sure that there's anything left of me

You ask me why I'm weary, why I can't speak to you
You blame me for my silence, say it's time I changed and grew
But the war's still going on, dear, and there's nowhen that I know
And I can't stand forever
I can't say if we're ever gonna be free


You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars
My energy is spent at last, and my armor is destroyed
I have used up all my weapons, and I'm helpless and bereaved
Wounds are all I'm made of
Did I hear you say that this is victory?"


OOC:I give full credit to the Blue Oyster Cult for the lyrics. They were perfect for the moment.

Singing... what a load of cr@#.  Mason uses the Smart Link to switch the pistol off of burst fire and into single fire.  He knows that it takes two to three rounds minimum of the FAB rounds to fully disrupt a spirit, but with only 12 rounds left, that isn't really an option.  With the pin point accuracy that he is known for, he puts a single round into the head of each spirit that approaches the girl and the elf.  Before the Marine is done with his first sentence, the gun is empty and he is forced to switch to the sword.

The sword has no special enchantments on it, that is not how things work in his where and when.  Magic, even a magic sword is very personal and requires a special talent and a big investment of oneself to use.  But the sword, unlike the high tech whip carries the Chi of the one who wields it.  This sword, hand forged by a master, focuses the will of the Samurai.  As the sword comes out, the whip retracts back into his hand.  With the whip gone, the spirits are now free to approach him.  Now is the time for Kenjutsu, the way of the sword.

The sword works but not as quickly or easily as the FAB rounds.  He has to slice into them a dozen times to disrupt them.  He is starting to sweat and the spirits have made contact with him half a dozen times when the elf throws him the torch.  He switches off his pain receptors as he deftly catches it in the air, but without a quick and easy way to light it, it is just a distraction.

Vanessa fended off the attempted swing of the spirt and another that swiped at Aramen, but didn't counter strike.  She had no problem destroying things that needed to be destroyed, but she still wasn't convinced these...things needed to be.

As far as she could tell, they were like gangs back home.  Sure they came angry and looking to provoke, but if living hadn't taken the bait, none of this would be so.

Mason's shot distroying the spirit before she had chance to try to talk to it.

Was that really necessary? She tried to ask him, then seeing him with the torch she sighed with exasperation.

She hated to do this.  In her world, well, undead world? She knew the fine line she walked on what most called good and evil.  But enough was enough.

She suspected this spirit world would work enough like her own, and she had the flower that Aramen had givn her....

Scrambling to Mason, she plunged a hand into the misty spirit, wincing with the cold.  It felt like home though, with intense concentration, she clutched the thing's wrist, and grabed for the torch.

It burst to flame.

Thank you. She said sarcastically to the spirit with some effort drawing her hand back, and stumbling backwards, winded.

The whole time he has been fighting, he has kept one foot planted, shifting but not moving.  This is why he has been hit so many times.  With Vanessa this close, he finally moves the foot, he flicks that whining little stretched out rat to her.

"Here."

He stands over the winded Vanessa slashing out with blurring speed at any who approach until she can catch her breath.  He won't let this be another Lark situation.

The spirits were stunned by the torch, or more specifically, the smoke.  The ghosts backed away from the smoking torch shifted their focuses elsewhere, except for the one being raked and clawed by the hands of the spike baby.  Three went to join the other 4 attacking the marine, who seemed to refuse to move. One Joined the one pursuing the elf as the last one went to revenge his dissipated brethren at the hands of General Drake.

One of the spirits now that came behind Gallus' took his stalwart nature to its advantage, and reached inside of him, chilling his third lung to the point it couldn't function.

"Great, now he thinks he a bard," remarked the scrambling ranger. He was almost back, and it seemed Vanessa got the torch lit and it was working as planned. He scanned the area trying to find an advantage he could take, and saw it when he saw a shimmer of metal on the ground by a nearby tree. He shoved his hand back into the pouch, searching feverishly.

Its in here somewhere, come on. . . got it

He pulled his hand form the pocket just in time to see a spirit almost on top of him with a club raised. He dove for the metal object, but was going to fall short, until the phantom connected its sidelong swing and hit him in the ribs, knocking away his breath but giving him the boost he needed.

"I don't know what you wanted. Revenge, satisfaction, I don't know," said the battered elf. The last blow damaged him more than he thought, probably fracturing a rib, but he still managed to sit up against a tree. He grasped at the ground and then put his hands behind his back, apparently trying to push himself up, wincing and breathing heavy the whole time.

"But what ever your goal, its going to fail. This is my squad, and I never let my squad fall." With that last word his right hand lashed out in front of him with Drake's flask in hand and a trail of smoke behind. The smell of burning sage wafted in the air as his hand passed through the ghost, causing it to drop its club and flail in a fit of pain.

"Thank Ehlonna Drake doesn't drink a lower proof."

Flexing his fingers he moves up to the others gauging thier injuries with a quick glance.  With an act of will he begins to channel force first to Mason then to Gallus.  It was unlikely they would detect the source of the affect since it was neither psychic nor mystic and very much the flip side to how he had disappated the specter.  As long as the other wraiths didn't join in he could ensure some balance...

He mirrored Masons style in such a way to improve the defenses to the others.  His sword weaving counterpoint to the Samuraiis own.  This is something he has done hundreds of times before and was demonstrated in the steely gaze and easy manner in which the sword cuts through spirits.  Much as he expected the sword slashes are merely painful to the spirits perhaps harming them in a small way but little else.  What was important was keeping them at bay.

There were memories in the back of his mind of another Samurii on another world.  A sense of shame nearly overwhelmed him at the memory.  He knew that it really hadn't been his fault, the memory of being manipulated and used as he had been, of killing one of the League.  The powers of Hell had spawned the stone and it had crushed his mind but that was only an excuse.  It was this very sword that had taken Hishiro's head.  And the stone was still out there someplace and it was one of the few things in the cosmos he sincerely dreaded.

Her breath back enough, but her hand still tingling. she scooped up Slick, with the hand not still prickily.  I so wish you could talk, little fella. She said to him, and tucked him down the front of her shirt.

As the Spike Baby scrambled to become a belt at her waist, a very odd feeling, she gazed around. Smoke huh?

She had no idea if this things would work like back home, but she figured it couldn't much hurt.  She reached toward what would normally be an ankle of the misty spirit, grabbing hold as he had before and placed her other hand splayed on the ground among the leaves.

Slick crawled to her back.

Focusing on the flower at her collar, she thought hot.  Back home this would produce a controled flame.  Here, she thought it should at least produce a smolder.

The sword sweeps through the air, slicing through the one behind the marine a dozen times in a matter of a second.  Then the torch is brought to it's face, the smoke billowing out.  Without slowing he continues to move, unhindered by the pain of the many small injuries.  With Nessa recovered, and the marine free of the specter's grasp, he steps over to the elf kneeling on the ground.  He plants the sword into the ground, wielding the torch to hold the ghosts at bay.  With his now free hand, he pulls a small piece of plastic from his pocket, a bandage of some type.  He squeezes it once and hands it to the elf.

"Put it on your neck."

Why in the name of all that is holy do these people insist on talking so damn much.  He was more efficient than any of them could be with the possible exception of the marine.  Almost half of his blood supply was replaced in Super Oxygenated Flourocarbons.  His new lungs dispersed more oxygen than two normal men, and he would not waste his wind on petty banter.

Gallus felt the blow keenly and reeled back, thanking the Emperor for his spare organs. He back away, noting that he would need to reload as he was down to his last two rounds of the magazine. He duck and dodged, keeping mobile and extended. When he reached a point to reload he hooked the chainsword under a plate on the top of his knee, obviously designed for that purpose. He then slammed his last magazine home and charged once more back into the fray, this time closer to Mason and the others. He style was not as fast as Mason's but took advantage of his bolter and strength.

The elf took the patch and placed where instructed. The effects were almost immediate as he hopped to his feet. He scouted the field and saw his bow as well as the others about 30 ft away. He made eye contact with Mason gave a nod of thanks and said, "we need to get out of here, grab the marine, I'll get the other three."

With another nod he drew two arrows and started towards his bow. In a matter of seconds he came to a sliding stop, grabbing his blessed bow in the glide and notching one of the arrows before even coming to a stop.  With no spirits baring down on him he decided to move again and he ran to give aid to the agent and the general, and to call the retreat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:22, Mon 02 Mar 2009.

A series of silvered bullets stitch the spirits attacking the marine. A small series of 'pops' erupt from the bullets before they disappear, but the spirits seem to waver in response, allowing the marine a temporary reprieve. I voice comes from the side,"Well,  heck. Looks like them vacuum points kin affect ghosts, at least somewhat." The tall cowboy looks over the group. "What are y'all doin' in the Texas backwoods? I ain't seen a group like this since.....y'all aren't with Bureau 13, are ya?"

Now that the Keeb is up and moving again, Mason again draws his Katana up and steps over cover Vanessa.  Giving her enough cover for her to do whatever it is she is doing.  The blade, carefully honed to a razor edge on a stone, is a master piece of old world craftsmanship.  The blade is one with the Street Samurai as he moves, weaving through the specters drawing a small piece of them out with each pass.  Another person who likes to talk when he could be talking.  Talk during battle needs to be short and to the point.  He stands over Lark... Vanessa offering the torch down to her.

"Take this and move."

The alchemy kept pooring energy into his muscles.  Garrett unwinded kept pace with the other swordsman matching style if not speed.  His own blade appears almost guady in comparison without the waves or patterns typical in folded metal it is a uniform silvered steel.  Hilt wrapped in gold wire and carved in intricate and almost fragile appearing designs.  At times a hint of pattern or writing is visible but only vaguely.

He ignores the few assaults on his own person shrugging them off with no apparent ill affects.

"I hope someone has an idea that works?!"

Great another country heard from, Vanessa thought as a new person entered the mix.  Like there wasn't enough confusion.  She'd gotten a nice controlled smolder edge, it should keep things penned in a bit.

Mason passed her the torch.  She took it, but that was hardly enough direction in this case.  She'd heard Aramen calling to leave and that sounded like a reasonable plan.  This chaos had no purpose and seemed to simply be working up the spirits.

With the Spike Baby now at her back, she backed up, getting her bearings so she could head toward the tavern.  This way. She said to Boone, figuring the new guy wouldn't know.

It appeared that Mason and Aramen were heading that way too.  If the other two  men wanted to stay and fight for no apparent reason, they could.

Never one to refuse a lady's request, Boone says Sure thing ma'am. Ain't got but a few holy water magazines on me anyhow. So saying, he loads one of his precious few 'undead' clips into his left automatic, the ones with the silver casing covering the holy water-soaked holly-wooden shells, and follows the Lady, prepared to act as rear guard. I don't encounter a whole lot of supernaturals in mah line of work, but I still come prepared. You can see his features a little more clearly as he steps closer. He is handsome, with a well-weathered complexion and crystal-blue eyes. Those eyes have seen a lot and enjoyed most of it. His skin is a bit leathery, and his clothing seems very solid, possibly a kevlar-weave under it. Abraham Boone, at your service, ma'am.

With Vanessa now carrying the torch, Mason sheathes the sword with one clean move, picking up the duffel bag with his right hand the whip reappears out of his left.  He moves to stay a little distance from Vanessa, positioning himself between the the small group and the rest of the specters.  The energy from the whip can be seen weaving a large figure eight pattern towards the ghosts, combined with the smoke, effectively holding them at bay.  His voice is strong and clear as he speaks.

"Gallus, Drake, fall back.  I'll cover."

Gallus heard Mason and knew the truth to his words. He could not defeat these spirits, he was low on bolter rounds and out of battle brothers to help. Firing a last shot into to disengage, Gallus began to fall back and rejoin Mason and the others. Curses could be heard from his direction.

It wasn't long before he seemed to be out of sight for the spirits.  Most of the others were right on his tail. The smoke trail seemed to keep the attackers from chasing and everyone seemed to be accounted for from the sound of footsteps.  Even the marine was out and behind.
The stim patch was beginning to weaken and the pain was starting to return but Aramen kept pushing on.  Then something changed. His bow which pulled him towards the spirits suddenly pulled again. It was light, but he felt it, like the tug of a small child on his hand. This time though, it pulled to his left, not behind him where the battle took place.  Grabbing a tree branch to slow his movements, the ranger stopped and stared towards where the bow pointed. Without looking at them, he said softly, "get back to the bar, everyone. I'll catch up."

A scout very rarely lets his awareness fade, but something ensnared him. His gaze just focused at apparently nothing particular.  He heard no voices, no footsteps and felt not even a breeze as he just gazed at the endless woods before him.  It wasn't until the stim patch faded even more and the burning in his chest snapped him out of the daze that he looked around again, unsure of how long his focus was lost.

Vanessa. She answered Boone, simply for ease.  She proceeded to make her way toward the tavern, pleased that the others seemed to be listening to Mason.  Though she'd little doubt once back there would be a whole lot of moaning and lamenting and then probably some blaming from Gallus at least.

She frowned when Aramen paused though and held back.  She took a few steps back to him.  Not a good time, Aramen.  C'mon. She coaxed, probably sounding a little sharp.

Her frustration with the whole scene and event was growing and she was trying to quell her annoyance.

[To Porch]

Mason stops with the elf.  He motions for the others to continue towards the tavern.  With no apparent specters present, he takes a moment to reload the pistol which had proven so effective against the spirits.  The loads would have no effect on spirits, but could drop a cybered troll.  Plus it is just bad form to leave a gun empty.  As he reholsters the weapon, his eyes, still wearing the sun glasses, continue to scan the woods.

"We need to keep moving.  Do you need me to carry you."

Boone follows Vanessa, but spares a glance for Mason. The glance is full of approval for a man who knows when to keep a gun loaded ---- always! He activates the nightvision and infrared capabilities in his domino mask as he scans the woods, and breathes in the scents of the forest as well. He takes note of the scents of his new companions, so that he can track them at need.


------------> To the Porch
This message was last edited by the player at 21:25, Wed 04 Mar 2009.

The ranger turned to Mason and just shook his head, he looked over to the forest again only for a second.

"I'm fine, I just felt something. . . familiar. Lets go, sorry."

He clutched his chest as he started sprinting again. This time, pain nor pull wasn't going to slow him.

[>>>>To Porch>>>

With nothing following them, Mason stands waiting for the others to move.  First in Last out.  That has been his role for much too long.  He has never had a problem running away from a fight, but something about this was wrong.  Those specters had nothing to do with him or Vanessa.  He was sure that she had more than one ghost in her past, and he sure had enough of his own, the second ghost to appear was definitely his.  But none of those looked familiar at all.  Were they all there for the Space Marine?  Not likely.  He waits for everyone to get up to the porch before following.

"Is everyone OK?"

--<To Porch>--

Gallus proceeded grimly to the porch with the others, the feeling of retreat unfamiliar and foul. He would not do so again.

Garrett sheathed his blade and casually brushed dust from his uniform before following the band out of the area.  That was clearly the most chaotic enterprise he had been involved in since...well...since he could recall.  Nor was he used to not having more firepower when facing such an array.  Lomark alone could have dealt with the army...  Not that he could be trusted to help unless there was a big stick and an equally appealing carrot in return.

[To Porch]

One minute he was beginning to route his men from a deadly situation, the next he was alone in the darkest of woods. He was viewing the battle from his scope, taking care to pick of the enemy leaders first. When the damaged webgate, a tall skeletal rib structure, began to malfunction and sent a web of energy straight at Deriel teleporting him here by the winds of fate.

Instinctively he laid prone and scramble for the cover of small bushes. He squeezed himself into position, making sure his chameleon cloak covered most of his body and used dirt and leaves to cover the rest. His cloak automatically shifted to the colors and patterns of the environment around him. Like this he could remain motionless for days, he even learned meditations to lower his heart rate and keep a shallow breath. Of all the Eldar, space faring elves to others, Pathfinders like him were unrivaled in infiltration, long distance kills and stealth. An odd mix of technology and skill mixed within him so he could be one with the plants and trees around him.

Every few minutes he would lift his head, or even raise his almost 2 yard long rifle to view from its advanced scope. He saw only shadows and foliage, and oddly enough a strange building not far from where he was.

Through his scope he could see an odd mingling or people on the buildings outer-setting, or porch. Each person was dressed differently than the others. This must be a communal stop for passengers of the webgates. If so, it may be safe.

Without waiting he busted upward and made a carefully planned dash between the trees making his way to the porch. All Eldar are given a grace of foot, allowing them to run faster and jump precisely no matter the conditions. With the aid of his cloak he looked like a fast moving blur of leaves.

<Exit to just outside the porch>

Gallus departed into the forest. He was determined to find a way home. This place was too much. He moved for what seemed an eternity then a flash.

--------

Sometime later Gallus came upon a familiar looking building. He instanly recognized it as the Inn. That tavern was not only his bane, but his refuge. It had now been nigh on half a century since he found his way back. He was going to surprise the barkeep with his new position.

To///Tavern

When out of sight of the tavern Aramendel pickup up his speed. Following Gallus' tracks was easier than following a heard of goblins across snow.  As he moved more and more away a fog seemed to roll over him.  With every step it would grow stronger. Everything around him seemed to vanish in the mist and before long, his own body was lost to his eyes in the fog.

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

It was about ten minutes after Aramen vanished completely into the fog that the ranger returned, this time with a brilliant hawk resting on his shoulder.

As the fog cleared from his path, the familiar feeling of the moist air, the nature of the growth of the woods and familiar tracks on the ground confirmed that he was where he intended to be.  With a sigh of relief he looked to the bird of prey on his cloak and gave a slight gesture. With that the bird soared almost straight upwards.  With a steady pace he followed his own tracks back.

At first, the sound was only a faint suggestion on the breeze, but as minutes passed, it clarified itself into something more recognizable: whistling, a jaunty tune created with somewhat more enthusiasm than finesse. As the sound came closer to the river, sunlight dappled through the heavy overhead canopy of leaves onto the blond hair of the young man hiking blithely along the path. As he reached the river, he paused and called out something. At first, it appeared as if he spoke to the ether, but a few moments later, there was a flapping and a large black bird swooped down and alit on the man's shoulder. The raven cawed a response and as it did so, the large eyeball it was carrying slipped from its beak to slide down the man's chest, leaving a trail of slime and falling with a "plop" to the forest floor.

"Thanks chum" He half-heartedly wiped at the goo on his sweater, "I'm going to look like some tramp now." The raven hopped down and retrieved the eyeball, shaking off the larger pieces of debris that had attached to it, cawing as it did so. The man shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder, looking down at the bird with a shake of his head and a wry smile,

"And what does that make you sunshine?" He looked around, getting his bearings before continuing along the path towards the bridge, towards the inn and a good pint of beer. The raven hopped after him for a moment before launching itself back into the air.

[To the Porch]
This message was last edited by the player at 07:26, Tue 24 Mar 2009.

Who would have thought that 3 days could seem like an eternity Dave thought to him self. Hunting on Far Away seemed like a great way to send leave. Alone in the woods by himself. It was nice and peaceful, no distractions until his implants had failed, all of them, at the same time.
I'm sure the teck's are going to be pleased when I get back to the barracks
Well at least everything's back on line finally

He told his e-butler to get in contact with the tour company and have them pick him up, only to be told there was no access to the unisphere here.
Son of a whore! What the hell is going on?
Well hopefully this path leads somewhere, I want to see the sunlight sometime soon at least

The sound of gunfire from down the path, stopped him in his tracks
This vacation keeps getting better and better.
He swings his rifle up to his shoulder and moves to the side of the path cautiously and begins to move in the direction the sounds of gun and apparently rocket fire are coming from.

As he approaches the sounds of battle he drops his pack behind a tree, drops down onto his stomach, and slowly crawls to the edge of the clearing.
When he can finally see the combatants a look of shocked disbelief races across his face followed by panic.
This was the last thing he expected to see, some sort of 'dragon', for lack of a better term, fighting with what appeared to be a heavy combat equipped robot
in front of what appeared to be an inn.
I'm so screwed

[To Porch]
This message was last edited by the player at 08:23, Thu 26 Mar 2009.

He’d grabbed Wilson’s clothes and taken off like a shot.   He could have been faster if he hadn’t been in jeans and running through the woods, but he was still pretty fast.  He was starting to appreciate all that sprinting training in track.

Scott had run a long way, before stopping to lean against a tree and laugh.  He’d gotten the other boys clothing skin out.  Wilson was his friend, be he was also an idiot.  Would server him right to decide to go for a swim like that, right there, wasn’t even Wilson’s property.  It was Handley property.

He dropped the clothes were he stood, as he caught his breath and looked around chuckling.  He wasn’t even sure Wilson knew what happened yet.  He listened for a yelling, swearing, something.  He frowned then.  Something was off.  He knew these woods.  Knew them, and this was looking only vaguely familiar.

Now that he was still, and quiet, he thought he heard voices.  Not the carryings on of a naked Wilson.  Deeper voices.  That definitely wasn’t right.  Moving as quietly as he could he crept toward them, using his best paintball stealth, not believing what he saw.

[To Porch]

"Well, that went over well," spoke the young man to himself. The woods are always a good place to hide out after a job so he thought nothing of it to break into the forest.
Then he realized that things weren't like they were before. The trees were different, the foliage was fresher, and the air was heavy.  He checked his GPS watch and found it just giving error messages. His phone too, was acting strange and not picking up any signal.

  Instead of backing off, though, he pressed on thinking it the safer course, considering what might be waiting behind him.  Adjusting the case on his back he set off through the woods.

Aramen stood stunned for a while, honestly caught off guard.  Staring straight ahead he found himself torn.  He heard both sets of footsteps diverging, leaving him stranded in the middle.
There was no right choice . . .
Yana seemed to be running from him, but was going into a wilderness unknown. She was alone, and from what he saw the last time they wandered. . . was not safe.
The others were going off into a known fight, he was certain they could handle it, but already told them he would help.

He never wants to abandon anyone who wanted help, but doesn't want to leave someone alone when they don't know what could be in store.

To help those that want it, but don't need it; or help those that may need it, but don't want it.

His mind swirled and buckled under the thought.  His legs began to weaken in the same way. Acting on impulse he pulled the shortsword from his bag and with a vicious swing, embedded it into a nearby oak. Using it as a vault, he ascended the tree and moved from branch to branch towards Yana, careful to stay out of sight.

The others will understand, I hope.

Staring after the retreating Yana, Mason knows that at the speed he moves, he can easily catch her, but he doesn't.  He looks at the elf.

"Go, we can handle Vanessa's world."

Still in the wood, and nothing strange, Vanessa glanced back, checking on her companions.  In her timing, noticing the exchange, Go. She said quietly to Aramen, but knowing he could hear her.


She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but the light was starting to look different.  They were probably near.

Yana faded into the same mist that he felt before, but he didn't let it stop him. Aramen kept shadowing her from his leafy perches until she completely faded from sight.

"Gods be damned. . ."    Jumping down from the trees he landed in a crouch, and followed on foot to the passage.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:01, Mon 06 Apr 2009.

With a bit of a smile at the departing elf, Mason looks over at Vanessa, his face going blank.

"We are getting close to the portal."

He draws the flechette pistol and offers her his left hand.

Vanessa watched Aramen disappear after Yana and smiled for a second, until brought back to present by the sound of Mason’s voice.  Turning back, her gaze falling to his offered hand, she hesitated.  Not that she didn’t want his company or that she had misread his meaning, it was simply that it had been a long time since she had made that kind of human contact.  Telling herself she didn’t have time for such nonsense, she made sure her handgun was in her right hand and with a deep breath, she put her left into his.

She didn’t remember taking a step  but the light shifted further…

[To her world]

Stops loudly into the woods looking for a trail of a beast of basicly any kind, as long as it was bigger than him.

As far as tracks, there are only sets of footprints for people of all sizes. After a few minutes of looking, there is a sound of a heavy rustle deeper in. What ever made the restle

Wazz draws his axe and charges blindly into the bush.

As the ork rushes in, the sound grows more intense. Various forms of clicking join the rustle.  It could be anything from hooves and nails on stone, chattering teeth, or something completely foreign.  Suddenly, all falls silent after the sounds get to the peak of a crescendo.

Wazz is not one to be out done in a fight of sound, so he bellows a blood thirstey war cry at the top of his orc lungs.

The yell rang thought he forest and shook trees. The yell was so loud it covered the sound of the approach something large climbing down from the tree behind him.

Its shadow engulfed Wazz's form, leaving him standing in darkness. Turning to see whats behind him, the ork finds a monstrous praying mantis. Its nearly 15 feet tall and has its spiked arm raised, ready to come down on the hunter.

Wazz chuckles and prepares to bring up the axe handle and block the things arm.

The mantis swings hard, causing even the burly ork to have to recoil to accept some of the blow. It rears its other arm back and swings sidelong.

The orc leaps upward and swings the axe back handed at the things arm as he leaps upward.

The creature chatters wildly as the front part of his arm is chopped in half. The motion continues though and with the remaining part of the arm, grabs onto the airborne Hakka's leg and pulls him forcefully into the dirt.  Luckily, the spikes didn't pierce his leg, but one did slice it as the leg slid into a spot between them.

He snarls in range and chucks the axe at the things chest and the go's about freeing his leg.

The axe hits cleanly a causes the insect to flail wildly as it begins leaking a green ooze. Her wild motions tug at the leg and drag it, along with the hundreds of pounds of ork along with it.

Wazz snarls and gets up and drags the thing TOWARD him.

The mantis is pretty much dead weight right now. it has a little bit of a rattle left, but most of its strength is gone. It tries to bite down on Wazz's ensared foot, but barely has the energy to get through the footwear.

Wazz throws him self at the things face and grabs onto its head and twists as hard as possible trying to rip it off.

The creature's head is torn clean off and the arm releases him. Suddenly, a swarm of other vicious insects pours out from the neck of the creature. The start running up the legs of the ork. Each one, biting, stinging and cutting on the way up.

Wazz snarls in rage as his old knoblar scar in his left leg is re opened he leaps off the creature and rips in rage with his nails at his legs, rending his own flesh at times.

The insects keep pouring out. The ripping and tearing is keeping them at bay, but its obvious that if he doesn't do something to remover the lot of them they would eventually cover him. A few are biting and clawing into his exposed flesh from the reopened wound.

He grabs the axe and starts hacking at the body and the mass of bugs stomping his feet in a beast like rage cuasing a very loud commossion.

The flow of insects slows but doesn't stop.  His thrashing is helping him quell the bugs on the ground, and making it hard for them to even begin climbing onto him, but the ones on him are getting close to his face. A few of the faster ones were already climbing into his mouth and ear.

He snaps his jaws down on the bugs and devours them after grinding them viciously, he dives and the creatures body head first slaming his head through what remains of its body snaping his jaws like a wolf and ripping and cutting with the axe in a mindless bloodlust stomping and bellowing the whole time.

The insanity of the ork takes its toll on the insects as most begin to disperse. A few though continue up. most fall off from the violent motions, but one can be felt going inside the ork's ear. As soon as it is out of sight it s not felt anymore.

The swarm seems to scatter and hide in the ground and trees.

The corpse of the mantis lays still, its head beside it.

Wazz cleaves out the head and skins it so just the insect eye covers remain and the antenna. He then wears it as a leather cap, he also takes one of its large arms as a scythe.

You now have a bug hat, an organic spiky scythe, and a disgusting odor radiating from your hat that seems to blend well with your orkiness.

Wazz heads back to the tavern with his new gear smiling to him self.

The High Born made his way through the mist shrouded forest, his hand comfortably resting upon the hilt of his sword, his eyes darting swiftly in an effort to pierce the shadows.  He wore a thick, dark cloak of heavy wool, the hood down revealing alabaster strands of unkempt hair, and his eyes glowed with an azure light.

He halted.  Ahead he heard sounds, not quite of revelry, but of a large group of folk engaged in various states of banter.  He turned and briefly looked back; he could recall no way stations among the trees of the Woldenweald.  Slowly he drew his sword and crept forward toward the sound.

He walked thus for some minutes, in a near crouch, alert to every sign around him, when abruptly the trees halted and before him stood an inn.  Moving forward he climbed steps onto a porch that seemed to wrap around the side.  There were three others on the porch, and from within came the sound of folk laughing, arguing and talking.

Frowning, he halted a moment to gather his thoughts, then he said, "Where am I?"

>>>onto the porch...
This message was last edited by the player at 00:45, Thu 28 May 2009.

A man comes out into the clearing, seeing the tavern.  He glances around, suspiciously.  "Okay, this is new."  He says, pulling out a small pouch with a string stuck in it.  "I may need to make an escape."  He mutters to himself.  "Last thing I remember is hunting down a couple seditionists, next thing I know..."  He begins to ponder to himself.  "...Is this a trap?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:29, Fri 29 May 2009.

The quiet serene and usual sounds of the forest went on through the night as usual, critters and bugs came out to do their usual business as the wind rustled gently through the trees. Somewhere in the forest all sorts of amazing things were happening as they usually would but in this particular small clearing where a small patch of light illuminated the ground, something greater was about to happen. The light on the patch and in the air began to swirl, sucking away all light temporarily from this portion of the forest into this seemingly infinite point, then just before it became completely black...

Pop!

All the light in the point burst out and returned to the forest, the loud sound resonating with it like thunder from lightning. All returned to normal except now, a tarnished brown briefcase lay center-stage in the light. Moment upon moment passed, and soon, the case began to shudder and shake, after a few moments of this the clasps released and a bright light making it impossible to seen inside the briefcase could be seen emanating outward from within. Then, as more seconds passed, two arms emerged and hoisted out the torso and soon the legs of a so-far unrecognisable figure. When the figure was completely out, it moved to shut the case, yet was having trouble, and where the pop once filled the forest, now the groans of this strange man filled it. "g'damnMossskinnedcabnetspeakerchristlickin'remotecontrolledasshole..." Getting fed up, The man ceased his grumbling and booted the case into a tree, causing it to shut. The moment it's shut form hit the ground, the man in the suit and gas mask dove on top of it, struggling for a bit, to reach the clasps, and shut them.

"Phew...no telling what might have come out," he stood and stretched, looking around at his surroundings, "I thought the destination said bar? I don't see a bar." He plucked his briefcase from the ground and began pushing through bushes, along the way adjusting his gas mask and yellow rubber gloves, taking special care to straighten his green and purple badly-sewn suit. Not one fragment of the man's skin could be seen, his appearance to the rodents watching his entrance to the region a complete mystery. He walked on for a few minutes when finally he seen it, lights! He began running toward the porch where he noticed several individuals carrying on a conversation, jumping bushes and dodging tree branches. Finally reaching the clearing before the porch, he let out a celebratory cry that could be heard by all, and gloriously lept over the final bush, one hand holding his briefcase, the other holding the top of his head, arrays of light shining gloriously behind him. In his moment of triumph, he found glory was short lived, as his jump fell short and he landed right on top of the bush.

Crash!"ooouuu...."Bang!"Y'ouch!"Smack!"Sonova-.."Smash!

He then rolled out from the bottom of the [much larger then he'd calculated] bush towards the porch, briefcase still in hand, yet small branches littered his being.

[Continued in porch thread.]

Ace blinked, and put away his pouch.  "Stranger tings have happened...I suppose I should investigate this place..."  Cautiously, Ace moved towards the porch of this place.

>>>to Porch>>>

[From the Porch]

Rafi waited just a little off the porch, before the forest began properly, whistling slightly as he watched Gerald soaring overhead. When Scott left the porch, he grinned at him,

"Why do glum? You look like you're marching to your own funeral." He shrugged, "The sooner we go, the sooner we get rid of those damned coins, the sooner we can get onto something more interesting instead." He rocked back on his heels, "Anyway, the 80s are nowhere near as scary as the 70s. Now that was a terrifying decade."

[From the Porch]

Scott paused, and with a sigh, glanced to his two companion. Ya know, the last time we went for a little walk in the woods it didn't exactly turn out so well? He scoffed at the other two.  Home is NOT the part that I'm worried about.

Though now that they raised it... could that thing follow them 'home'?  Of course it could he realized, why not?  There were probably special portals for it's kind...in closets or under beds.

Raf was right, get this done with. C'mon. He trudged on until till he was just before the area of the forest he'd arrived in.  He could almost feel something.

There, just ahead... I'm sure. He didn't know how he was sure, but he was. He glanced to the others.

Rafael put a hand on Scott's shoulder, partly to maintain a connection to him for the portal but also as an act of reassurance. He knew that the young man had to be nervous. Hell, he'd have been nervous too if long experience hadn't immunized him to all but walking into the worst of terrors. And he sincerely hoped that they would not have to go to such places any time soon.

"Don't worry." He said lightly, "We've had our share of shit happening for the day." With his spare hand, he waved down Gerald and the bird swooped down over Scott's head and grabbed onto Rafi's shoulder. Rafi continued more seriously, "And if Lady Fortuna decides to screw us over with more crap, we'll manage."

"Hello."  The child steps out from behind a tree.  "How did your trip work out for you?"

Jethro grabbed onto Scott's collar to keep the connection. "Yeah kid, from what you told me, you pretty much filled your shit quota. But even if something does happen we can-"

That's when the girl showed up.

"So. . ." he said looking back and for between the pair. "Is she a friend of yours?"

Bunnies, rainbows, unicorns...no friendly unicorns, bunnies, friendly bunnies... Scott grunted or maybe it was a groan.  He shifted back and forth, not sure if he should keep going or talk to the woods.  Probably talk to the woods.

Trip was...ah... interesting. He tried to smile. We were just going ...ah, home for a bit.  How are you? How are you?

She looks at the 3 men.  But turns to Scott.  "Did you find what you were looking for, a purpose?"

Into the Woods she finds herself at last. Finally I am alone without being bothered by anyone she thinks to herself. She could not help having look around the woods now she was far distance from where she came from. This place seems bit weary to her now that she is really looking upon it. The more she looks the colder she felt for she had no idea what was in these woods. Leilana did not mind creatures, but she was not prepared for anything that she would have to fight for she has never fought anything before. Perhaps it was not the smartest idea to  run into this place with no weapon. All she had on her was pack full of some basic food, money, cloths,journal, and her mirror. Finds this not to be enough she must have been crazy to go out with only this.

The cloths she was wearing was simply cotton dress the color of blue and white. She had her nice cloak on which was color of blue.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:08, Sun 07 June 2009.

"Eviel?" Rafael bowed to the little girl, or at least to the spirit in the form of the little girl, "The last trip was just peachy, thanks." He paused and when she mentioned a purpose for Scott, he raised an eyebrow to first Eviel and then Scott.

"Scott received more than a purpose. He was handed something rather more noisome, thanks. And we need to get them out of the forest. I presume you don't want their owner following us?"

She shrugs non concerned.  "It matters not to us."  She reaches up to take Scott's hand.  "Do you know where you need to go next?"

He hadn't been exactly sure how to answer and was glad Raf had.  But now he was more flustered.  I...had an idea, but if ... if you'd like to tell me... anything... He was mesmerized by this strange girl. No, she was the forest... or something.

She shrugs, "I don't know.  But if you do I can help you get there."

Glancing at his companions, he wet his lips. We need to go to New York, 1983.  Is... is there a... direct route? He asked caustously, adding while he was at it, Are the ...doorways always there? Throughout time? Didn't hurt to ask, right?
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Wed 10 June 2009.

Jethro clutched the strap his case, as well as Scott's. He did not know what to expect, but for all he knew, at any moment they could be someplace else, as well as some "when" else. There was also a possibility that the moment they got there, demons would want his guitar, and not for the right reasons.

Rafi listened to the Spirit and to Scott and frowned slightly in thought.

"Actually, we hope we need to go to Earth, 1983 but honestly, we're speculating. While we were in the lovely sylvan glade, someone gave Scott something... well three somethings actually... and a request to take them to a particular person in New York. I know the group to whom this guy belongs and it is Earth. We speculated that it was Scott's Earth and Scott's time because he was the one who received the items. What you just said about him finding a purpose seems to back up that speculation. Or are we just miles off? Can you tell where something belongs?"

She smiles and shrugs.  "No I am sorry but we can not.  I can tell needs not belongings."

"Alright, if your friend can't help us I suggest we keep moving. This thing is uncomfortable."

Scott nodded resigned.  He was hoping the woodsy chick would offer something. Though it bothered him a little that she'd asked about needs.  He hadn't needed this - had he?  He didn't think he'd 'needed' anything, but he kind of thought she thought he did.  He sighed exasperated, and glanced to Raf.

"What we need..." Rafael sighed slightly, "...Is to get rid of these bloody things, to finish the task given to Scott. Which means getting to Earth, the right Earth at the Right time." He shrugged slightly at Scott. If the child remained vague, they'd just have to go to Scott's home and take it from there.

She shrugs as she looks at the three men.  "Getting rid of them is easy.  Toss them aside."  Then she smiles at Scott.  "But you won't do that will you?  You will do the right thing."

Tightening his grip on Scott's collar, Jethro looks over to the little girl.

"This is not really something someone wants to cut corner on. Last thing we need is one of the more psychotic people in that tavern to find them. . . Well actually the last thing is to have the original owner get them, but some of those others are a close second."

Her smile is mesmerizing.  It's a glenn with soft summer light streaming in...it's the comfort of a V in the tree, where you sit with with a cool wind and the rustle of leaves surrounding you.  For a moment, the young man is frozen.  The right thing... what is the right thing...was he doing the right thing...was that why he was here...  Ally? He whispered to the girl, before snapping out of it, with a shake of his head.

Do you have any ... other advice? He asked the girl, now careful to avoid her eyes and reminding himself that 'she' was not human or...real, at least in the bodily sense.

She smiles, "I am sorry, but I do not advise, just guide."

{From Elsewhere...}

Nessa stepped clearly into the woods and came up short, giving a short tug on Mason's hand and a slight shake of her head before releasing it.  She took a tentative step, listening, smelling, feeling...

It's ...different. Things not... She said to him with a slight frown, and shake of her head before proceeding further toward the tavern, never finishing the sentence.  How could she be sensing what she was sensing?

She'd not gone far when they came across the other party and the young girl.  She offered a brief nod, starting to walk past, frowning.  A few steps past the group she paused again.

Damn. It was none of her business.Not her problem.  She should just keep going. Where was this new found sense of humanitarism coming from? Damn, Damn. Damn.

She didn't dare look at the man with her.  With an angry sigh, she dropped the bag, and retrieved a corner of her battered t-shirt, slicing the piece of cloth with the dagger from her wrist band.

Standing, she rolled up her sleeve and in a quick motion, sliced across her forearm, the knife was sharp and the blood came instantly.  With practised skilled she applied pressure with the t-shirt swatch, wiping the knife on the cloth as well and with some contort, returning it to it's place.

The cloth soaked into a brilliant red, her arm stopped bleeding and she gave it a sloppy lick before turning back.  Her eyes down, clearly angry she headed back to the group they just passed.

This will help mask the smell. No promises.  And Don't let it touch the ground. She growled at Jethro tucking the bloody cloth into his pocket.  With a glare at the other two, she snorted and returned to pick up the bag and only then looked at Mason.

She gave a strong shake of her head as she chewed her lower lip and set into motion toward the Tavern.

The tall man and woman coming towards them was a surprising sight. He recognized them as half of the four that left earlier, something about going home. Well from the change in attire it seemed they made it and came back.

That wasn't as surprising as the woman just cutting herself and handing him a bloody rag. There wasn't much that could be said to that other than. . .

"Umm, thanks? I guess?"

He began ponder a bit. What smell? Did she know what he held in the confines of his case? That was the only explanation he could think of.

"Well, that was interesting to say the least."

He could sense the tension amongst these men.  It wasn't hard to see.  The beads of sweat, the way they turned quickly at the noise of their approach.

His face is a mask of stone as he looks at them and says two words.  "Good luck."

He shifts the bag on his shoulder and reaches out to take the bag that she is carrying, freeing both of her hands for the shotgun.  Together, they start towards the tavern, his head moving slowly side to side, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

She offered no arguement when he took the bag, figuring he'd be happier.  But it was unnecessary.  What she sensed in the woods, a shot gun wouldn't matter.  Still, she carried it ready, if a bit preoccupied.

Sighing again as the Tavern came into view.  She couldn't help but wonder how long in this time they'd been gone and if those she'd left here were still here.

[To the Porch]

Scott watched the exchange a bit wide eyed.  In his world, women didn't cut themselves and offer bloody rags... I think she likes you. He managed to deliver the line to Jethro with a straight face. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.

Jethro twisted the teen's collar to choke him slightly. "Umm, I don't think she's my type."

"If you know where you want to go, I can help lead you there."

Remaining quiet and in thought as the two passed through on the way to the inn, Rafael shook his head as the woman returned with the bag and shrugged to Jethro,

"Ordinarily, if a strange but hot woman offered you something, I might make an inappropriate comment, but in the circumstances...." He looked to Scott and the child,

Rafael sighed, "We need to go whereever we'll get rid of those things, but we'll have to work on the assumption that it's where Scott's from. So 1983, here we come." He nodded to Scott to take the lead.

Scott grinned at Jethro, having gotten a response, and knew that at least some amount of tail twisting had occured.  Of course, he found the whole thing weird, but weird was becoming normal.

With a nod toward the girl, and a shrug, he grabed corners of the clothing of his compions just to make sure.  He definately wanted to stick together. and headed awkwardly into the forrest into the direction from where he came...

[To Earth, Scott's World, 1983]

Alice stumbled through the woods. The blaring sirens ceased to sound the further she entered into the murky forest. Her feet were tired as she ran, her coat snagging on many twigs and brambles, but she continued to run. Feet pounding, face red, and body sweating she started to slow. She was about to collapse when- There was a path. She pulled herself up, and began to follow it, until the pounded dirt road brought her to a bridge and river. With a soft moan of joy, she stumbled forward, and began to lap up water from the river using her hands as a cup.

As Alice drinks from the stream a figure steps up next to her.  The child is covered in a hooded cloak.  She offers Alice her hand and a small smile.  "You look like you need help.  Quick, come with me."

Alice looked up as a voice reached her, a look of desperation on her face. However that look changed to shock as she saw the person who accosted her was a child. She quickly back peddled, kicking up stones and dirt as she backed away quickly. "Wh-who are you?" she stuttered, watching the cloacked child with anxious fear.

"I am someone who is offering you a hand."  She again holds out her hand but makes no move towards the girl.  "I know a safe place you can go."

Alice moved slightly closer. She didn't trust this child, by no means. But the sound of safety. She had never felt safe ever in her life. She wanted to know what it felt like. "I... I... Okay." she said reaching out, and hesitantly accepting the hand. Human contact. This was the first time she had been touching someone that wasn't testing her. It was... Nice.

----------------------->From the porch

  Walking along the path, sniffing the air and occasionally examining a broken branch or crushed foliage, Boone approaches the area where Scott and Rafi must have ported to wherever they went. Spotting a tree nearby, Boone pulls his wallet out. Opening a hidden compartment, he slips out a tiny transceiver and plants it in the crook of the tree. Pulling a glowing card out of his wallet, he checks that his homing device is registering the bug, and nods his satisfaction. He then turns away, looking for the portal to his own world.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:15, Fri 26 June 2009.

Her hand is warm and she smiles as she starts to walk, unconcerned with the sounds of pursuit.  Although they are moving at a slow walk, the sounds of the baying hounds seems to be fading into the distance.  The woods seem different somehow.  "There is a path right up there.  Go along it and you will find the Tavern."  She smiles at the girl.  "You don't have to worry... there is almost never anything there that can hurt you."

"Th-thank y... Thank you so much!" Alice said loudly, rather nervous, but almost beyond words with happiness. she quickly moved away, and ran along the path until the girl was nearly out of her sights. "I'll never forget this!" she yelled back, before running forward. She had never felt so free! Safety awaited in the yonder strange building which she rapidly approached.

<Porch>
This message was last edited by the player at 05:38, Sat 27 June 2009.

Boone approaches the area he first entered this zone from. He spots his own tracks ans looks around one last time [almost as if expecting someone]. Any who might be watching sees him step into a section of the path, and as he fades, an image of himself superimposes upon itself, heading back towards the forest. He calls out Thanks , Aris. Right on the money! This Boone has a backback loaded with goodies and assorted packages peeking out from it. He is also carrying a large valise, big enough to hold a cello. Barely breathing hard, he heads towards the Tavern once more.

------------->To the porch

"Mr. Boone, why were you looking for me?"

Wazz walks into the wood's heading toward the direction he came from, grabing the insect arm on his way out.

In reply to The child in the woods (msg #194):

Hello, Eviel? How are you? In truth, it wasn't you I sought, but rather to ascertain if Satan's left-hand demon was following me. I had intended to lead him astray to my own homeworld, where there exist beings powerful enough to vanquish even him. But I suspect that the young lady I met who transformed into a demonic insect warned him against it. Still, I had hoped. I was also trying to see if Scott and the others had returned yet, but their scents are not fresh enough. Despite what you might think, I believe I could follow them to another world, but sometimes it is best to leave others to the quests that fate chooses for them, isn't that right? He smiles at the spirit I don't suppose Yana has reappeared yet? I hope to see her soon. he sounds expectant.

"No, neither the three nor the child Yana have returned."

As long as you are here, I have a gift for you. Boone rummages around his pack until he comes to a small envelope. Inside here he explains is a communicator of sorts. It will put you into contact with a being called Forestal, who on my world is an earth-spirit who serves Gaia directly. I can only imagine that one such as yourself could only be lacking companionship or friendship, and Forestal has agreed to be a correspondant if you wish it. Boone hands her the envelope.

She smiles but doesn't take the envelope.  "It doesn't work that way.  Your communicator will not work from here, neither do your tracking devices."

I see. Do mental boosters or dimension-spanning mindlinks work here? If so, I might still be able to arrange a correspondence in the future. Forestal is a bit on the arrogant side, but even I can see that she is lonely. I think you would make a dandy 'penpal' for her, if it could be arranged. And the tracking devices do work, just not the way you'd expect them to. I don't understand the technology, but TimeCorps has used similar devices in the past to find a lost agent, even in places that either technology or magic [or both] do not work. He pauses and smiles at Eviel well, at least it was worth a try. That demon isn't still around, is he? Boone looks up the path that leads back to the tavern. I wonder who's still there?

When Boone turns to look up the path and turns back, she is gone.

Hefting his backpack and valise, Boone heads for the tavern.

----------------->To the Porch

Aramendel watched from a tree, a dozen yards from the inn's clearing. Keeping his word, as soon as the threshold was crossed, he let the young woman move off on her own. He then decided to move softly and out of sight. In the trunk of the tree he was using as a perch was his old short sword, still embedded in the trunk.

In due time he would move on to the inn itself. For now, the wood elf would just sit and wait as he was apt to do.

Tori knew she should have stayed with the others.  It would have been wise.  However, no matter how dark and forboding the forest was to her, she felt as though it were the place to go and explore.

She hadn't really ever been called spontaneous and since her latest argument with both of her parents and her boss, she had decided to change a bit and try to do things that she wanted to do.  though in this instance, she hoped it wouldn't just get her into trouble.

She stumbled over something and then caught herself.  Well, her name wasn't grace...

As she caught her balance she looked over the woods spying a path.  It didn't look like a conventional car path and she had to wonder if a car could even make it this far.  She shook the idle thought out of her head and gave her own short hope to the Gods that they wouldn't allow her to come to harm.

She followed the path intrigued by the sound of running water.  She had to admit, as she wrapped her arms around herself, it was unlike her to do this but she was having fun.  It seemed as though the adventure she had been seeking might begin with this return home.

She walked towards the sound of running water, all the time staying on the path.  When she reached the river, she had to stop and stare at it.  She hadn't quite expected anything like this when she had taken off today.  It was something she wanted to go and scream for the others, but it suddenly felt private like her own little get away.

After a moment she turned and her eyes narrowed.  She wondered what lay beyong her on the path.  She kept walking, wondering if she would run into anything.  Part of her wished she would, while the other silently chided that it was better if she didn't.

As the young woman continues to walk past the stream, she hears the sound of someone clearing their throat.  An oddly dressed young man sits on a stump.  He is dressed in leather breaches, an old fashion green shirt and a brown cloak of all things.  His smile is warm and inviting.  "Hello.  Is there something you are looking for?"

Just after she had been giving herself the mental chiding of expecting to run into anything, she heard someone clear their throat.  She blinked and jerked around her hand coming instinctively from where it was wrapped around her and landing on her throat.  She squeaked a bit before calming herself.  It was definitely not the time to let her nerves get the best of her.

She looked at the man as he spoke, so hard that she almost missed what he was saying.  What the heck was he wearing?  she blinked her eyes for a second wondering if he were real.

As if she remembered she were being rude she shook her head and cleared her throat "Ah, I'm Sorry... I didn't mean to be rude, but I didn't expect to really see anyone out here "

She waited a second what had he asked her? When she thought back and remembered his question she answered it to the best of her ability. " I'm not really sure what I am looking for.  I ... well... I was with a group of friends and found the forest, it seemed like the best place to go at the time, I'm sorry ... if I'm trespassing "  she hoped he wouldn't hold it against her.

She tilted her head.  Was he dressed for a reinactment?  Perhaps that was the reason he was here.  She had stumbled across something she wasn't supposed to be a part of.  " I'm sorry if, I'm bothering you... but I'm not even sure that I could figure out where to go or what is even in here " she didn't blush or ask about his clothing her mind already assuming what the deal was.

The forest did not seem as much the tangled weave he had thought upon his arrival; he was surprised to find how easy it was to pick up his back trail.  Crossing over the small bridge that spanned a stream, he made his way along a path but a short distance.  Like a loadstone he felt the pull of his world; surprised, he felt nostalgia at the thought.  Without a look back he stepped forward and entered the rift between this pocket universe and the Woldenweld, his last thought before returning home, 'there's only so much fun you can have in a tavern.'

>>>>exit the forest...

He laughs gently.  "No, you are not bothering me.  If you are looking for something, the Tavern is in that direction.  All are welcome."  He gestures in the general direction she was already heading.  "Just follow the path."

Wazz remains still at this point wandering trying to find the way back to his home land.

Tori looked at him and then nodded.  After a moment, she waved to him and spoke " Thank you very much for your help. "  she turned to follow the path wondering about his words and the fact that he had called it a tavern.  She knew that several people had many different names but she had to wonder about a tavern.

She shook her head and looked back only once before following the trail.  She wondered absently if she were getting deeper into something that she might not have wanted to delve.

She followed the winding path and then crossed over a bridge before seeing the wooden building.

She blinked a bit, because to her it was a wooden building that seemed so out of time and out of place in this wilderness.  She had to think about why they were here and the only thought she could come up with was the fact that this was indeed a place for re-enactments.

She continued her journey to the tavern.

<<out on the porch>>

Kisa watched everyone in the shadows curious by them all, though she watched Cadreil leave the forest and so she followed him. She didn't know why she was doing this but she was. She was probably driven by curiosity and she couldn't stop herself.

>>>Tavern>>>

Jonathan came to lying on the ground near the trail to the tavern.  He let out a low groan.  He definately had some new bruises, and he could feel a bit of blood dribbling down the side of his head.  The PKM machine gun he carried was still across his chest, and a quick inspection revealed he still had all of his equipment and weapons, and his rucksack was lying nearby, something he considered odd since he had left it about a klick back from the ambush site.  That was when it came flooding back to him.

They had been ambushing a routine Russian convoy; just lying in wait, fire a few RPGs, then scatter back into the woods before the Ruskies could mount a response.  But then that damn Hind had come out of nowhere and opened up, and that was it.  He was falling abck, and then he saw the rocket roaring at him, then it all went black.  Had his people dragged him and his gear here and ditched them?  No, they wouldn't do that.  Would they?

He reached up and checked his head wound.  it was superficial, and a moment or so of pressure from his thumb stopped the bleeding.  He reached up and toussled his short hair, shaking out most of the dirt and dust that had been blown there by the blast.  He rolled up to one knee, then stood, brushing more of the grit off of his clothes.  Thank God his weapons were Russian; this sort of thing would have no effect on them.  He shouldered his pack and slung his machine gun, leaving it in front of him for quick use.  Once he was ready, he squatted down, taking a moment to adjust to the sights, sounds and smells of where he was; becoming accustomed to what was normal so he could better notice anything out of the ordinary once he started moving.

Satisfied that he had a baseline for his senses, he stood.  These were definately not the woods of Texas, where he had been fighting.  Everything was wrong; the trees, their dispersion, even the ground and dirt itself.  He shook his head quickly to clear his thoughts; he needed to keep his head in the game.  First thing was to get off the beaten trail.  He crept about 25 meters off the trail; close enough that he could still follow the trail, but far enough away that he could hide himself from anyone following the path.  He moved slowly, almost silently through the woods an innate skill he had honed over the last three years of guerrilla fighting.  He moved through the vegetation like a fish trhough water, the stock of his PKM rested in the pocket of his shoulder, ready to be brought up in a fraction of a second.

--->To Porch

Jesse awoke with a gasp. "God..." I turned over with some diffculty, his bones popping back into place. I picked himself up after a moment. Where am I? I am standing on a beaten path, something not common in the United States. I think I can make out a building in the distance...I building with signs of life! I hurry down the path in a low ready position. You never know if life means safety or danger.

---> To Porch
This message was last edited by the player at 08:51, Sun 26 July 2009.

When he reaches the woods, he continues to walk but his left hand reaches out to take Vanessa's.  "The portal that I used is just up ahead."  He knew he didn't have to go over the safety precautions again.  She was a professional.

She slipped her hand into his,  How many should be there guarding? She asked after a steading breath.

He continues to move at a steady walk.  "There should be an 6 man team, heavily armed and armored.  Someone else might have joined them, but I don't know how much time has gone by there."  He stops, and slowly scans left and right. "It is right here."  As they step forward, they disappear.

<---From porch

Xinque quickly wove her way into the forrest, listening behind her for Black Fang, and wondering if he could outrun her. She knew she was much bigger than him, nearly twice his size, and her tail was twice the size of herself, a trait that snowleopards had but seemed almost extravegant in her large form.

From Porch==>

As Xing-Chan ran with such speed Black Fang had to keep up but he did so with ease.

She jumped suddently and made her way up a tree, finding a low branch she perched and looked down As she watched Black Fang approuch. Her leopard wanted to pounce and roll the wolf until it wouldn't fight anymore and they could eat it, so she had decided to perch in the tree for a bit until she calmed down.

"Oi not far. I can't leap up there in this form," said black Fang as he sat under the tree ad looked up at Xing-Chan.

"Sorry, I was just taking procations. You're so small that you look like food to her." She replied, the 'her' of course being her leopard. She jumped down, and sat in front of Black Fang, surveying his small compact form. "Your much smaller than any werewolf I've ever seen. Most of them are usualy as big, or bigger, than I am." She said speculatively.

"I can grow but I choose not to. I get more speed out of this small form. Besides if I did grow and make myslef taller and bigger than you. I just choose not to in respect. I'm going to be honest here I am attracted to you and well I don't give up easily. But if you want to see my true wolf form then stay back alittle," said Black Fang as he changed into a human again but soon started to turn back into the black wolf but much much bigger this time. Black Fang was now twice the size of Xing-Chan's current size and was big enough for her to use his as like a horse if she turned into a human again.

"I like this fomr better," She said, standing and circling him. "Like this you make me feel more like a cat instead of a giant, lumbering, thing." She said, coming back to face him. "And I like you too, Toga-kun," She said, using the Japanese word for Fang.

"Well thank you very much," said Black Fang as he sort of bowed down in his current form. Black Fang was actually realived when Xing-Chan said that she was attracted to him. In Black Fangs eyes he had reached his goal. He was at the end of his long journey.

"I want you to know that no matter what I am not going to let anything happen to you," said Black Fang as he sat facing Xing-Chan. It was nice that he could be with. Sure she was a little different than him but he didn't care. "Want to look for a nice lake around here and just relax by it?," asked Black Fang.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:51, Tue 08 Sept 2009.

"Do you think there are deer in this forrest?" She asked, swiveling her ears to listen better for anything moving. The forrest seemed dead quiet, as if it held its breath. She figured if there were any animals they were all hiding. "there's a lake around here?" She asked, looking around. "I suppose that would be all right."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Tue 08 Sept 2009.

"Nope. I nwas out here earlier with another werewolf and we tried to lok but the only thing we found was this child that smelled like the woods," said Black Fang as he walked over and sat next to Xing-Chan in her lepoard form. "One last thing I have to say. I can't go into my war form at all around you because if I do I might attack you," said Black Fang as he couldn't help but kinda rub up against Xing-Chan for that was one way of showing affection to a mate in his world.

XingQue stiffened as her leopards mind rolled over her's for a moment. 'Get away! It'll kill us! We can kill it first! Attack it!' the leopard screamed at her. The moment passed and she sighed, relieved nothing had happened. "She doesn't like you very much, my leopard." She commented, leaning against him a bit.

"Yeah I figured that much. I really just let my inner wolf take over when I am in a pickle but with you her I feel like I can control it," said Black Fang as he looked up at the sky with such eyes that gave away the happiness in him as well as the harsh years on him.

"So my dear what do you want to do now?," asked Black Fang as he laiddown next to Xing-Chan so awhile.

"I don't particularly want to do anything," She replied, beginging to clean a paw. She glanced over at Black Fang and thought of something. "How did you get your name, anyway? It's certainly not a common human name, like mine."

"I got my name from the color of my fur but the Onyx part of it came from when I killed a vampire while trying to deffend my brother. Rest his soul," said Black Fang as he almost choked up while talking about his brother.

"I take it you don't care much for vampires, then?" She asked, laying down beside him and resting her head on her paws much like a dog.

"I only hate one but he is dead now because of me. Other vampire I don't really mind as long as they don't tick me off. Other than that I don't mind them," said Black Fang as he thought about that night.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?," asked Black Fang as he put his head next to Xing-Chan's.

"I don't have any money, so definately not the inn. I vaugely remember a cave that I think I left some clothes in, so I'll probably sleep there." She replied, studying his face. "Do you have a partial form?" She asked.

"Partial Form?," asked Black Fang as he raised an eyebrow because he didn't understand her. "Do you mean a half wolf half man form?," asked Black Fang still confused.

"Yes, that's right. I used to be considered very powerful because I could shift partialy, half human, half leopard." She replied, lifting her head up and twitching her tail.

"That is my war form. I think I am going to try it out actually," said Black Fang as he cleared his mind and focused on the feeling he had now. As he did he felt the inner wolf within let go and finally Black Fang was in control fully now. As he gained control Black Fang turned into his War form. He was 7 feet tall. He was very muscular and had a huge mohawk on his head that was very white. His claws were very sharp and he was very tone.

"There I finally have control," said Black Fang as he taked in his normal voice which happened to kind of be like a deep growl.

"Do you want my company in this cave for the night," asked Black Fang half expecting to hear No thank you.

"If not I am fine with that," said Black Fang.

  She looked up at him and attempted to smile, which came out in sort of a strange snarling expression, but was still a smile. "Nice hair," She teased.
  She let her body shift too. Her human female shape returned, but stayed covered in a thick covering of soft fur. Her face became an elegant mix of feline and human, and her hair returned to it's length, reaching her waist, but was now pure white. Her knees bent backwards like a cat's back legs, her back paws the size of dinner plates. Her hands returned, but the fingures elongated, and pads formed on her palms and fingures. Her tail twitched behind her as she smiled and moved a strand of hair from her face. "I would be pleased if you came with me, Desu." She said, using the Japanese word for thankyou.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:50, Tue 08 Sept 2009.

"Wow," said Black Fang as he could help but say that as he starred at Xing-Chan beauty. I hope I don't start to drool. thought Black Fang as he ifxed his own body to look more human like. He turned it into more of a human form which was covered in black fur except for his white mohawk. Black Fang then walked right up to Xing-Cha and held her close to him. At that moment the world stopped moving for Black Fang and he was truly happy.

XingQue stiffened for amoment then relaxed. "You smell sort of like Pard," She comented, resting her head on his shoulder. It wasn't often someone reacted to her in this way. She remembered briefly that her father had said she wasn't beautiful because she looked to Japanese, and all of the male leopards had said that she was to fat for them. But she knew she wasn't fat, it just hurt her to hear something like that come out of the lips of someone who was supposed to be your family.


{{ooc://Pard=wereleopard pack}}

"I call it Empacar," Sadi Black Fang as he still held Xing-Chan closely.

"I think we have a cave I still need to find," She remarked quietly, smiling a bit.

"Okay then. Lead the way then my lady," said Black Fang.

She thought for a few minutes. "I think it was actualy by a small spring." She said, smelling the air for water. She got the faint scent and started off towards the left.

As Black Fang followed he thought of how different his life was now. He had someone to be with and still he felt kind of conflicted with his inner self.

  As she walked she tried to remember why her father had gone so crazy after the annonymous funeral. She remembered a sertain time where she had done something wrong and her father had pinned her to the wall with steel knives so that her body would heal around the blades, and then he ripped them out. What had he said when he leaned in and growled at her?
  'She's not here to save you anymore.'
  XingQue stopped dead in her tracks. Her mother. Of course. Her mother was dead. And her father had killed the pard. Her eyes whent wide and then brimmed with tears, and she dropped to her knees. Her mother had always protected her from her father. Father had always hated her. He'd never wanted her in the first place, and when she had been born a girl...
  She dug her fingures into the earth and sobbed.

"HELLO. Hey there what's wrong there," said Black Fang as he rushed in order to stop what looked like Xing-Chan about to fall. "Hey seriously what's wrong?," asked Black Fang as he dropped to be level with Xing-Chan and hold her closely.

"Whatever it is I am hear and that is all that matters," said Black Fang as he didn't know what was going on with Xing-Chan but if anyone hurt her he was going to go after them with all his being. "Let's get to that cave now," said Black Fang.

"I just remebered that my mother is dead. And my whole family. They're all gone." She cried, her ears flattening against her dead in distress. "They're all gone. They're gone, and I can't even remember them!" She rested her head against his chest and continued to cry.

"Dammn. How did they die?," asked Black Fang as he knew that she was going to be crying more but he wanted to help. I need to help her somehow, thought Black Fang as he picked her up with his hands and held her close. "I'll bring us back to the cave," said Black Fang as he tried to follow her scent into the woods and to the small lake she talked about and the cave near it.

"My father killed them. After my mother died he whent insane, and killed them. But she died because of me. It's my fault they all had to die. She was trying to save me from some humans, and they killed her instead!" She sobbed, lifting her tail so it wouldn't drag on the ground and get tangled in his feet.

"She protected you so you could live a happy life. Trust me I know how you feel. And if your father went insane I could understand that. If you died I would go completely savage to the core. But still I'm pretty sure that she wantded to protect you so you could live. Dammn I'm not helping at all are I," siad Black Fang. He had lost everything by war. She had lost everything by tragedy. It made him cry too for he felt sad about not being able to do something about it.

"No,no. you're helping, you really are." She replied between sobs, and trying to catch her breath. "It's easier because you're here, it really is." She ran her padded hand up and down his arm, feeling the soft wolf fur. It was comforting the be with someone like herself, it helped clear her head a bit.

"I can smell the lake. It's really close," said Black Fang as he caught a strong wiff of the smell of the lake and low and behold there after a tree was the lake.

"Where is that cave you talked about," said Black Fang as he still had Xing-Chan in his arms.

"Do you see a waterfall?" She asked, not bothering to lift her head. She was to exhausted after all of the crying.

"Yes. Is it behind that?," asked Black Fang. "Can you walk from here or would you like me to carry you in like this?," asked Black Fang even though he knew what the answer was going to be.

"Yeah, behind the waterfall," She replied, and then snuggled closer as to let him know that she enjoyed being carried.

"Okay then. Lets get in there and get you into some clothes," said Black Fang as he quickly walked around and through the waterfall trying not to get Xing-Chan wet. Black Fang was kind of soaked though and quickly shook off the wetness from his pure black fur.

"Well then I suppose I am going to have to sleep like this," said Black Fang as he set down Xing-Chan on what looked like a dort of rock bed. "Stay here I am going to run around and get some stuff to start a fire and some grass for a bed," said Black Fang as he turned to look at Xing-Chan and then headed out for the woods again but not too far from the cave. As Black Fang ran around looking for wood, grass, and moss he felt like he was making his den all over again but this time was better. He had also thought about what he could do to maek Xing-Chan feel better. Maybe he could give her a massage, make her some food, or just keep her company.

  XingQye looked around. 'I remember this place,' she thought. 'This is where I woke up.'
  She stood shakaly and looked around, relying on the small amount of light to bounce off her retnas and illuminate her feline eyes. She spotted an old, worn out, backpack in the corner and rummaged threw it, finding a pair of black jeans and a light blue midrift top, along with some other neccesisties. She quickly changed forms and got dressed, only now thinking to mourn her ruined shoes.
  Satisfied, she sat down to wait for Black Fang to return, and proceded to try and untosle her wavey hair.

As Black Fang returned he had an armfull of firewood in one hand and a large amount of moss in the other.

"Hey there beautiful. Are you alright now?," asked Black Fang as he started to make a fire and returned into human form. He then quickly remembered that he needed clothes for himself. "I'd better stay in my war form until I can get more clothes," said Black Fang.

XingQue obligingly looked away, and nodded quietly. "I'm fine for now, I soppose." She replied, studying her hands. She'd scraped them, she noted, and quickly folded them in her lap before he would notice.

"Hey you okay there. Looks like your hands are hurt. Let's fix them right up," said Black Fang as he was back in war form and took some moss and wrapped them up.

"There we go. All better now?," asked Black Fang.

She looked at him for a bit, one eyebrow raised in consideration. "You know, for someone who lost everything you sure are happy." She remarked, and immediatly wish she hadn't. She hated being mean, but it made her feel strange to be cared for in such a way. Even her mother hadn't really cared what happened to her after she got Xing-chan out of her father's way.

"Just because my tribe, family, and world is gone doesn't mean that they are gone for good. True my world is gone to war that doesn't mean that it is lost for good. My family, friends, and tribe are dead but they live through the memories I have of them. And right now I have you and that is all that matters right now," said Black Fang as he got a fire going really good.

She didn't know what to say, so she kept her mouth shut and started tracing the curves in the rock wall beside her. "Why are you helping me?" She wondered aloud. "We aren't even the same species, it doesn't make any sence."

"I am helping because I like you. Why do you ask anyways? Do you refer to not have people helping you or are you just a beautiful curious person?," asked Black Fang as he sat down by the fire and warmed his hands up and then sat down near Xing-Chan and tried to warm her body up.

"It seems I'm just in a curious mood." She replied, pulling her knees up to her chest. "And no one has ever truly helped me. I find it a bit strange. People don't help other people withought expecting something in return."

"What so you don't want me to help or do you not like me?," asked Black Fang as he looked at Xing-Chan as he was kinda worried about her not liking him at all.

"That's not what I mean." she replied, smiling dryly. "I'm just not used to it, is all. I'm not really sure how to react to someone actualy caring about me as if I'm a human being. In my pard we were leopards. The mothers raised the children until they were five, then they let them fend for themselves among the little commune. We faught for food, faught for dominence in the pard. No one ever helped anyone else unless that person had their own personal agenda and needed to form an allience for backup." She paused. "I'm sorry, I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"Your not boring me. My pack was one big family. We always hunted in a pack was and never really fought one another. That was probably because of the fact that we are wolves," said Black Fang.

"Leopards are solotary creatures by nature. They only come together for three main reasons; to fight, to mate, or to share a large kill. We never really had friends in the pard, only people you could count on to have your back in a fight, but it's never true loyalty."

"Well I am not a lepoard. I am a wolf. And I consider you to be a loved one to me," said Black Fang as he looked at Xing-Chan with eyes that gave away the thought of how much Black Fang liked Xing-Chan and how tired he was.

She blew a strand of hair from her eyes. "well, I like you also, but I'm still not very good at showing it, I suppose." She replied, looking at the fire for a bit.

"Are you going to get some sleep or stay up all night and stare at the fire?," asked Black Fang with a smile on his face. Black Fang was really tired from changing into his war form because he wasn't use to being in it for more than half an hour.

"I'm not tired," she replied. "Don't you know leopards are nocturnal?" She asked smiling. "But if the big bad wolf needs a nap I guess I can watch over him."

"Ha. On second thought I will stay up and keep you company for the night and as long as you need it," said Black Fang as he smiled which kinda showed all his teeth. "So just out of curiousity did you haev a mate at your world?," asked Black Fang out of the blue. He was curious of some things and this was one of them. He had been planned to marry another werewolf in his world but didn't really like her the way he like Xing-Chan as he did. While he thought about it he realized that there was something bugging him in his mind. It was his inner beast just waiting to be unleashed. In a singlke moment it could come out if he wasn't careful. If his inner beast came out know he could hurt Xing-Chan and not really mean to. I can't take that chance, he thought.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:35, Thu 10 Sept 2009.

-----> From the Tavern
As he & Lady Alexis left the safe confines of the tavern, Meriwether pulled Alexis closer. His left hand hovered over the pearl handle of one of his Navy Colts. He vaguely remembered the forest from his arrival. It was a dark & dangerous place. It offered none of the safety of the Tavern proper. He spoke in a hushed voice yet one that held concern.

"We must have a care My Lady. I do not wish to frighten you but this place... this forest holds an air of magic & can no doubt be hazardous to those that enter its confines. Stay close & be alert if you will."

He stopped & looked down upon her. He gave her his most encouraging smile "I am no woodsman My Lady but I think I may be able to retrace my steps. Alas are you ready?"

 She smiles when he pulls her closer to him." I have you to protect me" She smiles and held on to his arm. lose enough so he could pull his gun out. She looks around the forest for a moment" I have faith in you"

Meriwether gave Alexis a hug & then moved across the bridge, & into the dark forest beyond. The woods had a magical air about them. That did not mean they were not dark & somewhat foreboding as well! There was a tingle along his spine as the hairs about his neck began to rise. There was a feeling that they were being watched. Yet by whom? The Shootist was no woodsman though. He peered this way & that as he picked his way along the narrow paths.

He was happy that his Lady was so confident in his ability. Meri could only hope he was not leading them into danger.

"Does anything look familiar to you My Lady? Did you also enter this world in these very woods? I think we are close... I just can not be... entirely certain?"
This message was last edited by a game moderator at 17:56, Mon 14 Sept 2009.

 She was nervous and nod sher head"" yes i came through here. it was very dark" She was scared. She held on to his arms." I am glad you are certain"

In reply to Alexis Con De Leon (msg #281):

Meriwether entered deeper into the dark forest & the gloom beyond. He was glad for Alexis company but also worried for her safety at the same time. He knew he had never ventured too deeply in these woods & the portal should be somewhere close by. As he strode ever onward he thought he recognized a tree...

"There!" Meri said suddenly.

He extended a gloved hand toward the old bent tree. He could feel something nearby now. The tingling along his spine had increased. He also felt a nigh pulling sensation. Some unknown force was drawing him forward now. Back home? To some other world? He did not know for sure.

"Yes!" he followed up. "I think that is it. Stay close My Lady. We do not wish to separate for any reason. I think we must enter together somehow."

He was not sure where that knowledge came from but his instincts told him that was indeed the truth of it...

 She  hold on to him and placed his arm around her waist" Then hold on to me then" She smiles and takes deep breath" I am ready lets go"

In reply to Alexis Con De Leon (msg #283):

They moved forward as one. As they got closer to the Bent tree a small circle of light & mist began to form. The closer they came the larger it grew. It literally pulled on both of them. Meri held Alexis tight. There appeared to be a high shrill noise in his ears. He clenched his jaw & moved forward until he was inside the circle & through...

----> To the Wild West thread.

She closed her eyes and pulled closer to merri and burried her face in the crook of his neck and held on to him as they moved through the portal. She was scared all right and was not going to let go

~~ wild west thread

It was as if she'd fallen into the forest.  She crouched on the ground, ready to take off, ready to attack.  But there was nothing there.  She stood, looking around.  This was not where she just was.  That she was certain of.  But then, WHERE was she?

As Micheal came through a door he arrived at the forrest. Looking around Micheal wasstill in Gladiator form. "Where the hell am I," said Micheal as he sniffed around. As Micheal smelled around he sensed another creatures movement. Drawing his blade Crimson Hearth, Micheal advanced cautiously. When he came in view of his prey Micheal saw a young looking women who was as confused as he was.

"Hello there. You new here like I am?," asked Micheal.

She'd straightened and took a few small steps.  The spikes of her heels oddly not sinking into the earth.  She turned quickly at the voice.

Hey... She answered caustiously. Where's here and I might tell ya. She looked the new comer over, her fingers drumming along her finger tips.  Where did you come from? I didn't hear you.

"A door from a cave. That is were I came from. And to be honest lady I am also not sure of where here is," said Micheal as he sheathed Crimson Hearth.

"You didn't hear me because I was silent and didn't want you to hear me," said Micheal as he was speaking true, but didn't know whether the woman was friend or foe. Whoever she was she was beautiful, but Micheal didn't know who or what she was.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Mon 05 Oct 2009.

She raised an eyebrow at him.  Didn't hear more likily because he just materialized as she did, she thought.

A cave?... Interesting.  I was last in a building.... She frowned in concentration and looked around.  There's food this way... she getured in the direction toward the tavern.  Where's there's food, there must be others.  Maybe someone who knows of this place...


She set off in that direction, presuming the man would come along, but it was his choice.  You can call me Max. She called back to him.  It was a concilliatory gesture since they were both in a strange place.

"So you think someone will explain how we got here?," asked Micheal.

I think someone will explain where we are. She answered.  So ... whatever your name is, where did you come from? Because I don't think we are from the same place. She chuckled and kept walking.

[To the Porch]

"I came from a planet called Earth. Where are you from?," asked Micheal as he headed to the porch with Max.

If she didn't know better, she could still hear the gunfire and raised voices chasing after like rabid dogs. The sudden chill on the air only drew sharper contrast to the warm crimson running down her arm from the last bullet she was less than capable of dodging.

Glancing at the piece of rebar in her hand and sparring it a solid moment of focus, she cracked the now-present glow stick and shook it vigorously. The chemical yellow glow gave her a better view.

It was about then that the panic ebbed and the reality of her reality sank in just as she broke the edge of the woods. Stopping abruptly, she turned in place with a puzzled look.

"This isn't where I parked my car..."

"Sorry, no cars here."  The voice comes from a man sitting on a stump a dozen paces off.  He smiles warmly and holds out his hands to his side to show he bears no weapons.

She blinked... twice.. before taking a couple cautionary steps towards the man on the stump. She curled her left arm into her body a bit, finally registering that the stray bullet she thought she dodged apparently grazed her.

"Well I know... My cars not here - I don't drive, but I didn't know any nature trails in the middle of the warehouse district..... Where am I?" Her voice trailed off, waiting for the odd man's response.

His smile is warm and he shows no sign of worry or aggression.  "You are in the woods around the Tavern.  If you want to go to the Tavern, it is right down that path."

She tilted her head to the side and looked over him. A person being so relaxed in the middle of nowhere which was somewhere else just 5 minutes ago was a little creepy to her. Hax would have pinched herself, if the throbbing of her arm wasn't enough to tell her this was real.

"Tavern? I don't remember..... well...." She paused, drawing a breath. "Out of morbid curiosity - we aren't anywhere near 4th and Broadway are we?"

The young woman was pretty sure she knew the answer - but it was worth asking.

He smiles and the laughter is melodic.  "But we are.  It is right back the way you came.  But why don't you go to the tavern for a while.  You look like you may enjoy the company and a good drink.  If you want to talk later, I will be out here."  He gestures down the trail he had indicated before.

Hax glanced over her shoulder, then back to him, then back the way she came again. Without much other conversation, she nodded at the man, and walked the way he indicated.

"Thank you. I'm Hax by the way..." She moved towards the pale light that promised to be the Tavern.

-->To front porch

Kell was walking through the woods on his way back to the town when suddenly a thick fog rolled through the forest, limiting his view of the path to a few feet.  When it began to clear, the forest looked quite different that he recalled.  "By Zilchus, this is strange."

After a while, Kell saw a pale light and could hear a faint noise coming from ahead on the trail.  Following that, he eventually came out of the forest to the tavern's front porch.

>> To the porch.

Deep in the woods, there was a bright flash of light. When the light faded, a teenage girl dressed in black with black-and-white stockings remained in its place. A dark cloak covered her tan bag and clothing, its hood hiding her head from view as she looked around curiously at the trees surrounding her. This looks like the right place, she thought, pulling out a palm-sized satchel from her bag. Zahura said there's a tavern a short ways from here, but I'll keep this on hand just in case I get lost.

Picking her way through the dense growth of trees, it took her about a half hour Earth time until she reached a building with lighted windows, melodious sounds ringing from inside. Perfect, that must be it. She smiled and pulled back her hood, revealing glossy chin-length brown hair framing a face recently devoid of baby fat. Her leaf green eyes reflected the light coming from the tavern, and she approached it.

>>To Front Porch>>

"Great, just...great..." Kelris was lost. It was pretty obvious that he had no idea where in the planes of hell he was, but this was ridiculous. He was here on a test of courage, of honor! This was just getting out of hand, though. His leather armor was soaked in water, getting tight, his clothes were damp, his greaves had water between them and his shins, and the cloth about his feet was soaking wet! The one known as Bloodblade to his fellows cursed something in his native tongue as he continued through the forest, getting colder by the moment. "Curse Drega...I'll kill him for this..."

It took him only a few more moments to shake the water out of his greaves and improvised gauntlets before he bent down to re-tighten the leather straps that held the metal to his shins. There was no way back, though. He had to find this building, get in, and then go back, but this wasn't going to be an option right now. He didn't want to see those guys for a while. If the place was as abandoned as they had said it was, he'd hang out there for a bit, now if he could find it.

"If only there were damn signs or something..."

He perked an ear as he heard something, like music. "Either it's a wood siren, or that tavern's not as abandoned as we thought it was." Kelris adjusted his armor again as he approached the source of the sound, to find the tavern that he was looking for...much less than abandoned.

---->To: Out on the Porch
This message was last edited by the player at 03:44, Thu 12 Nov 2009.

"Blessed Mother of Light," muttered the ancient AelfLord.  "I've been here before!"

Following a vague path made by the boots of those who passed before Cadreil forced his way through underbrush and a shallow, quickly running stream before making his way up a small rise.  Before him was a familiar sight.

He frowned.

"The Wolf's Head."

Shaking his head he wonders how he got here, but allowing fate it's game he made his way to the porch.


==> To the porch...
This message was last edited by the player at 03:26, Wed 16 Dec 2009.

>>From the Porch>>

Aubria slowed as she caught up with the woman, panting slightly. Looking at the woman critically, she asked, "I didn't catch what you said earlier. Could you repeat it?

Now out in the wood, the woman almost appears younger, softer. Of course, child... We've much to share... Come... She linked her arms with Aubria and Kelris, taking a step further into the woods.  Pulling to the two along.

The woods around them begin to shimmer and it appears that they are moving, though they remain motionless...

[To Someplace Else]

"What the-" Aubria doesn't get a chance to say more before she's whisked away somehow, her arm linked with the woman's. Her last thought is that she wished she'd brought all her spell components with her.

>>To Someplace Else>>

[From porch]

Max swore.  It appeared as she had thought.  With one hand still grasping Tauri, the other reached for Kelris.  The woods began to shimmer and she had that distinct feeling of falling... and of pulling someone along with her.

[To Someplace Else]

Tauri stumbled along after Max with a curious grin on his face, but the expression faded as his entire body was overwhelmed by a strange distant feeling, and the world around him began to darken.
In a moment of confusion he was tempted to break contact with Max and see if that would alleviate the situation, but he decided that was something he would regret. Strange things were happening here, mystics and magic and whatnot; these were things he'd never encountered before, and he couldn't bring himself to pass up the chance to see a little more.
Still, as the world around him mutated a little further, Tauri couldn't resist the urge to draw his gun from beneath his belt and clutch it tightly in his hand.

>> To: Someplace Else >>
This message was last edited by the player at 16:33, Tue 29 Dec 2009.

She wished they had a destination.  A goal. Someplace more specific than trying to draw out the spirit from the forest.  As they entered the wood and left the Tavern behind, Jasa glanced to Aubria.  "I do not think I understand your question.  I am a woman, like you.  Unless you are other than you appear?"

<<From the Porch<<

With a small laugh, Aubria replied, "I don't mean what gender, I'm as female as you are. I mean... what kind of magic do you use? What do you call yourself? Like, as in what title do you have? If that even makes sense..." Her thumb rubbed on the pole of her broom absentmindedly.

   What do you say to going to the bridge up ahead, legend often says bridges are places of power.

Glancing at the bridge, Aubria murmured, "Sure, let's head there." As she walked towards the bridge, her eyes looked at Ja'sh'a inquisitively.

As the group comes around a corner in the woods, you see a handsome young man sitting on a trunk.  He holds a hand stitched book, reading as you approach.  "Hello, how are you today?"

"Ah!"  She was taken slightly aback; she hadn't even realized that Aubria could recognize her for what she was, as she hadn't done anything overt in the witch's presence.  "I am Faradhim."  She spoke the word as if it should have been all the answer that was needed.  But, after a moment, she continued.  "The legends of my people tell us that we are descended from a wind spirit who fell in love with a mortal.  The wind is in our veins, and we have power over it."  There was a sense of pride and joy as she spoke of her heritage, but the joy faded somewhat from her eyes as she continued.  "However, the Gift is dying.  My brother and I are the last who wield the power, other than a few elders, but their days are limited.  We fear that the Gift will die with us..."  She sighed softly, and shook her head gently.  "It is vital that I find him and bring him home..."  ...or release his spirit to the wind.  The last thought went unspoken because she feared that giving it voice would make it true, and she could not bear the thought of her brother passing on so far away from home.

As they rounded the bend and came upon the young man, Jasa's expression evened to once more hide her emotions.  Parker had spoken of many apparitions within the wood, and she wondered if this man was one of them.  "Well met," she replied, looking him over briefly.

"Oooh," was all Aubria said, pausing hesitantly. She was about to ask more when they came upon the young man. Wow, if Sami was here, she'd be all googly-eyed over him. He is rather good-looking. That thought automatically made her put up her guard. That, and these woods were strange.

"Doing fairly well," she answered to the young man flatly.

    A good day to you, I am doing fairly well, and you...

   Jack glances at the book;
    My name is Jack what is yours.

With a shrug and a smile, he offers his hand out to Jack first.  "You may call me Roland." 

Whether the hand is accepted or not, he offers it to the others as well, kissing either hand if offered.  "Would you mind me asking what you are doing out here.  You seem to be looking for something... or someone."

When the young man kissed her hand, Aubria simply rolled her eyes, thinking how Sami would've loved it. With a shrug, Aubria replied to Roland's question, "Well, Jasha here is looking for a wood spirit, apparently one that takes the form of a little girl. I'm just tagging along." She smirked wryly.

Turning to Ja'sha'a, Roland smiles broadly. "Eviel?" He lets out a very light laughter.  "She is no wood sprite."  His face seems to change in an instant, still beautiful, but menacing.  "Why do you seek her?  If you wish her harm, you will regret it.  Despite what you may have heard, she hides no treasure."

Now confused, Aubria looked between Roland and Ja'sh'a, his question mirrored in her gaze.

  Jack smiled;
   There is treasure then there is treasure, the best is the one you can give away and yet be no poorer.

   This lady is looking for information, she has lost something.
       It has been suggested that the Spirt of the Wood might be able to help her find it.

"What'd you lose?" Aubria asked Ja'sh'a curiously.

Without waiting for Ja'sha'a to answer, his expression again turns warm.  "Do you seek Eviel for information or as a guide?"