Tired of keeping the arrow nocked in wait for someone to do something or something to happen, Arska shrugs, stows the bow and wields her spear.

"Sure, old friend," she says, grinning at Scale, "lead the way, or we'll be here twiddling our thumbs all night. If there's that canned meat, we'll find it and you'll have your fill - and if there's any enemies lurking, we'll find it and *I* will have my fill," and saying so, she walks in, spearpoint first.

In reply to Arska (msg # 31):

"Very good! I will even save some for you...wait...you like it cooked, correct?" Arska had known the reptile long enough to know when something unpleasant crossed its mind...like eating cooked foods. In any case, Scale began to head forth to the wonderful smell.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:08, Mon 05 Apr 2021.

[OOC] This is literally the perfect place for Nazir to enter the scene. So when his player (my RL son) gets home, I will poke him to write his move. :)

[OOC] Can't wait until my daughter's old enough to play with my group. And another twenty or thirty years on top of that, with elbow-length gloves and a welding visor, she'll be old enough to play in my games.</b>

[OOC] I have two, one is 34, the other 30. They have both played at my table all their lives. :D

The sounds of visitors, footsteps and speech, rouses Nazir from his light doze behind the counter where he had been preparing the most exquisite of his rations with a precious and now expended can of Sterno. He rises smoothly, hoping his appearance does nothing to disturb or provoke the strangers. "Greetings friends and travelers! Fear not, I-" Nazir breaks off as he takes in the group before him and freezes. "You have to be kidding..." he groans, and tries to drop back below the counter again.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Tue 06 Apr 2021.

In reply to Nazir The Listener (msg # 36):

Scale moved past the man, sniffing the air. As he moved around, his snout flaring, and his serpant like tongue tasting the air to lock in on his prey. That prey being a can of meat. "You! The one behind the counter! Which can is the meat!? Oh never mind, I can smell it close by!" He looked about ready to start smashing open cans in an effort to find the one...
This message was last updated by the player at 19:15, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

Arska shrugged.

"Usually I'd roast anything I hunt, but you know, some nights you're just lazy and..."

She lifted her spear as she heard something move behind the counter.

"Who goes the-oh, no way!"

She lowered the spear halfways, frowning at the Death Priest, still on guard.

"Isn't that the guy from that village, Scale? Now, what are the odds we'd bump into you again, Nizar the Hearer? Or whatever your name was. I'm not sure this is a coincidence, Scale, maybe we should... Scale? Scale!"

She tsked, seeing the dinosaur was mostly ignoring the Death Priest (and her) and just rummaging around for meat cans. After a moment's hesitation she lowered the spear, shrugging.

"Are you even- Oh, what the hell. What are you doing here anyway, priest?"

Nazir steps back from the several hundred pound saurian he had already had the misfortune of being accosted by in the not too recent past.

"Please, help yourself," he says/sputters indicating the can of meat slowly cooling.

He turns and raises his hands to Arska.
"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I spent some time listening to the spirits after... our previous encounter. I was only trying to help, but things may have gotten out of hand, I admit."

He gestures around the abandoned building, and stares for a moment at a bleached white skull set on the counter.
"Yes I know!" he hisses under his breath and turns back to Arska. "I was told to come here and make myself useful, that there's something lost that needs finding."

After another glance at the skull he rolls his eyes and gestures again to the meager meal.
"It would only be polite to offer, would you care to join me?

After a somewhat pregnant pause, he glances back at the skull.
"Hmm? Oh yes, thank you. Also, something dangerous is coming and we all have to be ready for it."

He looks at the skull and asks, "That's all?" He then nods and smiles, a somewhat disconcerting look what with the death's head makeup across his face. "That's all."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:51, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

Emmeline watches and studies the death priest's features closely. Death priests always creeped her out, there was just something unnatural about messing with the dead. Still, there was something unusual about this guy, something familiar. She paused for a moment, before finally speaking up.

"I feel like I've seen you before, Nazir, was it?" she said, watching for his reaction, before continuing. "I don't know how much you know, but yes, we are looking for something. And I'm also looking for someone. Someone important. Perhaps you remember?"

Emmeline then turned to Arska. "How do you know this guy? What's this 'previous encounter' he's on about?"

Rhy Gor is quietly assessing the situation, a bit confused. "Well, I'm not sure who to talk to you or the skull, but you've spoken aloud to us. I guess that's a start. "What are you cooking?" he sniffs the air to get its scent. "We are looking for something as well, does your skull have any idea what you are looking for? Either one?"

Scale found said can and was no paying attension to anything anyone said. He had crushed it open with one clawed hand, shooting the contents into his mouth. "Oh...sorry. Did anyone else want some?" He said mid chew.

The sun set brings a chill as the path between mountains forms a long shadow of a figure approaching the station. Visible on the hill opposite, another. One, a giant Nok, tips his cowboy hat and begins walking. The, squat and round, bows in return. They stop outside the pumps. The growling baritone of the gleaming snow-furred lion man speaks, clearly heard from within.

"Skirmish the Frog... At last we meet." He unlatches his twin pistol holsters.

A surprisingly syrupy voice emerges from the green hued one on traditional Asian armor and swords.
"Akimbo the White Lion. This has been long coming."

The lion nods. "There are others here. It is only fair to warn them."

Skirmish considers. "Hai."

They approach the door together, and knock politely.

Arska was still frowning, but she let the butt of her spear rest on the floor.

"Out of hand, huh. Out of arrows, more like, I was that day. But you are right, something needs finding, this…"

She scratched her face, somehow not ruining the made-up effect, although she was naturally not made-up, but she still somehow looked professionally made-up.

"Skullface guy. Some wizard. We need his help to repair something in Areasi. And then everything will be fine and that old man that makes pretty drawing for the matriarch will give us many ceramic discs, so we can drink for days and days. You come with us and help, or you get the hell away from here, you priests are nothing but trouble."

She turned to Emmeline and shrugged.

"Very long story, boom-witch. Scale is an old friend of mine, we ride together often. So there was this time, and there was this village, we come in one evening, looking for a hot meal and a cold mug, and there’s zombies everywhere, and this guy here was… I don’t know what he was doing. Scale explained it to me with a lot of words, but the bottom line is, all those zombies needed killing, so we killed them. It was fun, not gonna lie. Big waste of time too, but," she shrugged again.

Then she turned again towards the priest.

"Oooh, danger, you said? About time! We’ve been walking all day and yet no fun whatso- oh, here it is!"

She was interrupted by a knock, which prompted her wield her spear again, walk to the door and kick it open.

"Hello! Wanna rumble?"

"Jumping to battle so quick? We could at least find out who they are? At least get through introductions" Rhy Gor says "But there is a Nok, I can smell him."

Rhy Gor lifts his staff ready to strike if need be, but hoping things can be handled without 'rumbling.'

The others ready themselves as Arska and Rhy Gor take point.

The green frogman politely replies, "Greetings, innocent bystanders. I am Skirmish the Frog. We mean you no harm. However, this place is soon to be leveled as an unfortunate consequence of the ancient blood feud between our peoples. Please retreat to a safe distance for your own well being."

He looks to the gigantic white lion, who appears.. Stunned.

"You... You are.. A Nok."

He sniffs. "You are not of my tribe.. but you are a Nok. I am not the last."

Skirmish looks intrigued. "Perhaps we wait, then, until all is known."

The lion nods slowly. "Greeting, long lost brother. I am Akimbo The White Lion. I am glad your people escaped the Massacre by the M'pesh."

Shirmish jerks his head around. "M'pesh heretics? I am of the Sons of Hen. We share an enemy."

Akimbo sags heavily. "Yes... We do have much to discuss." He looks around. "Shall we parlay, friends?"

"I am Rhy Gor, and indeed, I think we should parlay. It is ideal to do so, and it allows us to resolve things, and enemies shared is one we can examine. This staff was once a foe's fang. Now it is a tool, but as a tool, it has many things to examine, like the story drawn upon it by my father about where it came from, and why I hold it now. It is the language we share, and words and deeds matter but in each place, there is a time for both."Rhy Gor says with a smile showing enough teeth to be friendly, not threatening.

Arska winced, trying to follow the plot, with an effort that almost made an audible whirring of brain cogwheels. She gave up with a shrug and rested the spear on her shoulder.

"A lot of words, and no fight. Very well, you figure it out, I'm finding some dinner," she said and turned away, to rummage through the tins.

"Scale! Which one of these says 'meat'?"

In reply to Arska (msg # 48):

"That one says meat..." He sniffs the can. "...but its a lie, because its replica meat made from vegetables. This one is made of so many different animals...most likely the crunchy part...and this one is made for gods! According to the label anyways. Enjoy!"

He hands her a can of dog food.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:12, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

"Why would the Ancients do that?" Arska exclaimed, completely offended in her sensibilities. It was bad enough that they would choose to write things instead of marking them with a drawing like normal people did - and then they were purposefully misleading? What the hell was wrong with the Ancients? No wonder they made each other extinct. A society that made words into strange lines instead of speaking, what a joke!

"If it's fit for gods it's fit for my stomach," she replied, turning the tin this way and the other, looking for a way to open it. She took her flint dagger out of its fur sheath, looking at it dubiously.

"I'll just manage to chip it. Why did they have to make this things of melt-stone, instead of ceramic? No wonder they starved. Your claws hard enough for this, Stone?"

"No idea Arska, maybe their pictures were many, and confusing? Or too few. and too simple?" Rhy Gor shrugs. "I can read words, but they're not always easy, either, sometimes they make strange words that sound too much alike."
 

"Let me help," Buddy Bear interjected, reaching for one of the cans with one stubby hand and brandishing a wicked-looking knife with the other. "Knives are tools, not toys, and you should always ask your Parents before using one."

Buddy Bear expertly separates the lid along the seam and hands the can back.

"So pointless," she shrugged exasperatedly, passing another can to Rhy Gor, in case he could indentify it. "Put the food into these melt-rock things, then make those little lines and loops so nobody can know what they are, and then close them so nobody can open them. Stupid, stupid, stupid. No wonder the Ancients are with the spirits now."

She smiled at Buddy Bear, raising the can for a second as if toasting, then shoveling down half of it in a couple of gulps.

"Feirfd fastfe fut veffy heafty," she said while munching. "Wfant fome, Fuddy Feaf?"

She offered the rest of the tin to the fluffy little android, then yelled over to the duellists.

"Hey, you two there! There's food for everyone, if you can eat this food. I don't know what you're on about, but you might as well grab a bite before you kill each other."

Skirmish executes an elaborate bow, and Akimbo nods. "It is good to break fast in peace."

He roots for a moment in the stores, and finds some spicy self-heating meals. Depositing his coins, he withdraws one and sets it to heat and open.

Skirmish buys a selection of fruit, and they purchase a Picnic Package to make the overture of peace to you all.

As the package opens, emitting a pungent aroma, he speaks. "Many years ago..."

He is drowned out by a massive buzzing as a swarm of insects invades the place.

Soon, each of you is bitten, feeling briefly dizzy.

When it clears, the station is dark, completely empty, and smells as if no one has been there for years. The bright noon sun shines, where moments ago it was almost midnight.

Skirmish, alarmed, takes the self opening container and shows it. "Phun brand Phaux Pho."  He shakes his head.

Akimbo looks startled. "You mean..."

Skirmish seems grim. "Yes, often come Time Flies when you are having Phun."

Emmeline holds her head in her hands, trying to reorient herself as her vision settles back to normal.

"Urgh, what the hell..."

She looks around, trying to make sense of what happened. A minute ago, in her mind, she was waiting for something to eat in the dead of night...now the station she was in is baking in sunlight, yet she knows she wasn't sleeping...or was she?

"Hey, guys, anyone around? Guys? What's going on?"

She checks herself over, and turns her music back on in an attempt to rouse the others.