The private airstrip was little more than a three yard long track wide enough so that transport aircraft wouldn't tip their wings when running along the runway. A tower, little more than a fifty foot tall scaffolding with stairs and a boxy office at the top conducted aircraft. An fifty year old antenna and radar array topped the office, it still had the Conway Construction Limited logo on its side. Probably the company contracted to make this little slice of crash landing heaven.

Their gear, vehicles, and finally the team was loaded onto two former Free Quebec KCC-101 heavy lifter v-tol transports. Based on the old American military Osprey, the KCC-101 had four large propellers and a boxy cargo bay. The flight crews did pre-flight checks as Weller Group grounds people finishes loading everything aboard. The logo on the tails of the aircraft read Northern Bush Services. A slogan of 'no destination to remote, no price to small' was painted on the fuselage of each aircraft.

It wasn't a bad outfit, a quick check using a hand terminal or a portable phone would reveal that the Northern Bush Services had been in business for nearly twenty years. And they were accounted of some of the best Bush Pilots in the northwest. And they didn't come cheap.

Aside from the team's gear, vehicles, and personnel the aircraft were also loaded with crates of medical supplies, tools, replacement parts, electronics, sensors, military style rations, portable housing structures, building materials, and a lot of spare tires for the notorious Big Boss ATV. Aside from the team there were eleven other Weller Group employees flying out to Emblem. From there they would be dispatched to various locations to establish monitoring and communications relays sights. Ostensibly for to support he team that would be going deeper into the region.

The flight was smooth. The weather was clear and sunny. The winds created a little slipstream but not so much to slow their flight. There was one run in with a CS patrol that followed the FCC-110s for twenty minutes or so. But, the pilots had the proper transit authorizations and the cargo manifest scans were spot on, though they did not include the team or its gear.

As the KCC-110s approached Emblem a similar aircraft was leaving, a blue Trade Tour Inc. passenger liner with a pair of RPA flying alongside. Tourists, it made everyone laugh at the thought. Landing was easy, the v-tols needed less room to land than they did to take off.

Once on the ground the KCC-110s maneuvered near to the forest leaving nearly a mile between themselves and the town. As the engines cycled down the flight crew went around releasing seat harnesses and un-dogging the cargo. A small army of trucks, two dozen at least, was approaching. The lead vehicle bore a tall radio mast with a red and gold Weller Group flag hanging from it.

As the team stepped from the aircraft to await the unloading of their gear and vehicles a tall woman walked up to them from the truck. She was lithe and moved with a precise grace. Once she drew close the wind billowed her long coat from her body to reveal that she was a partial cyborg. A NG 45 LP pistol was holstered at her hip and she wore light body armor also.

"Good afternoon. my name if Veronica Mosby, you will call me Vector, it is my callsign." The woman said in loud voice to be heard over the background noise. She pointed a collection of tents and temporary structures behind her. "That is our base of operation here in Emblem. It will be considered to be the home base for you expedition. You can refer to it as Field Camp one, or FP1, as needed. Please make your way over to the large green prefab structure with the radio mast at the center of FP1 at this time. You will find Mr. Mountain there and a dinner of local foods. A senior  field coordinator will brief you and hand out data packets for your journey."

    When Willy got to the airport, he was excited, and it showed.  He couldn't stop grinning ear to ear.  He had never been higher off the ground than a few dozen feet, whether in a building or hovercar.  Only in his wildest dreams had he imagined flying above the clouds.  He looked every bit the gawking first time flyer, staring at the largest flying machines he had ever seen, looking at everything inside, even the process of securing the cargo & vehicles seemed to fascinate him.  He didn't seem to understand most of it, but it was "the most excitin' thing I've seen all year!"  Most of the flight he couldn't pull his eyes off the scenery out the nearest window, even if he had to crane his neck at an almost painful angle to do so.
  Princess seemed just as excited, but did NOT like how it made her ears feel.  Once she was over that, tough, her tail didn't stop until they were landing again.  She seemed just as excited to be on solid ground again, & immediately rolled about for a bit.
  Willy recognized the pistol on Vector's hip, the one on his own hip identical except for the color.  He gave her a polite nod & greeting, making sure Princess didn't get in the way of the workers unloading.  When everyone was ready to go, he headed over to the camp.

 Perhaps unsurprisingly, Killian doesn't spend a lot of time interacting with Princess, for much the same reason most humans wouldn't spend a whole lot of time making nice with someone's pet monkey... He also seems to take the flight more or less in his stride, although that's simply on account of how his military service saw him shipped around by Coalition aircraft whenever necessary, so he's plenty used to looking down on the world from a great height - even if he never did and likely never will get to try out any sort of powered armour, much as he might want to.

 Property-wise, he doesn't own anything he's not carrying with him which tremendously simplifies the process of shopping for supplies since he also doesn't have much in the way of money and no easy way to spend it without flagging security checks, so he pretty much spends his time en route sitting by a window and watching the miles flow past while enduring any jokes made about his wanting to stick his head out with at least a modicum of dignity.

 Arrival now? Well, he pretty much just steps on down the ramp and offers Ms Mosby a salute while she lays down the law before answering with a simple "Ma'am." and looking over at the others to see if any assistance is needed unloading and debarking (hah), at which point he'll step in and put his muscles to work.

After the meeting, Nutball had introduced himself once everyone outside.  My name is Nutball, but my family, friends, and coworkers calls me Nutball.
After gingerly petting Princess, because he has little experience with dogs, he wks off in the direction opposite the airfield.
When the other arrive at the airfield, there he is, dressed in his charcoal-colored Gladiator full-environmental body armor, with its black trim, utility belt, and bandoleers of grenades, and yellow piping. Over the faceplate of his helmet is a yellow smiley face with a bloody bullet hole in its forehead, over the words "Have A Nice Day!"  A pair of vibrosabers are carried cross-sheathed upon his back, a NG Super Laser holstered on his right thigh, a vibroknife in his right boot, two silver-plated knives at the back of his belt and one in sheathes on each of his vambraces, three bandoleers holding twelve rifle grenades each, and ammo pouches upon his belt.  With a C14 Firebreather in hand and a pack on his back, he seems ready for anything.
As the others approach, he raises the faceplate to reveal the same cloth, over-the-head comedy mask he had worn in the meeting, and he points over his right and left shoulders, respectively, to begin introductions to nobody at his sides, This is my brother, Al, and my sister, Franc.  They're fraternal twins.  Luckily, since they're ghosts, they didn't have to sign a contract.
On the plane, he sits with a seat for Franc and Al on each side of him, seatbelts fastened, apparently, something that was there, but not there.  He spends the flight reading the file folders provided by their employer in a quiet voice, as though reading them to somebody.  He even seems to answer questions.
On the ground, he seems distracted during the introductory briefing by... Veronica Mosby, or Vector, was it?
At the mention of food, however, she suddenly has his undivided attention, as he takes off his helmet, then looks in the direction mentioned.  Ugh.  More data packets, he mutters as he begins the walk towards the indicated building.

Hawkins had slept most of the flight out of long established habit.

Still he had helped with Mei's horse and greeted Al and Franc politely before he nodded off.

When he walked down the ramp in Emblem he looked more like a war robot than a person. Gone were the bright colored civilian clothes, replaced with 'borg armor and a host of weapons.

He had a helmet under one arm and a Wastelander motorcycle over his other shoulder like a duffle bag.

At the bottom he listed to Ms Mosby's greeting and nodded.

"Howdy Vector, I'm Hawkins."

Theresa arrives at the airfield much the same as she left the briefing, the only changes are a long coat she wears more like a cape and a bag from the local market that eventually reveals itself to contain an astonishing variety of snack foods and candy.

The Osprey is clearly new to her, as is its complicated safety harness system that takes her almost ten whole seconds to figure out, but the flying itself doesn't distract her from the snack bag even for a moment.

Their arrival comes a few minutes after she finished off the last of what must have been twenty or more pounds of sugar treats that don't seem to have effected her in any way.  And she sticks around for the update to the briefing only long enough to hear where Mr. Mountain is being kept before she heads off to check on the accommodations.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:35, Wed 21 Apr 2021.

At the airfield Jen arrived now dressed in the decorated suit of Urban Warrior armour, with a modification of a sheath for her tail and the helmet handing on a loop at her hip.  For loading was a NG-480 hovercycle with a pack on the back.  Greeting the others warmly, though giving Killian a wide berth and a bit weary of Princess, some predatory mutual respect maybe.

Climbing onto the transport aircraft she runs a hand over it, fingers touching a junction box and her head tilting for a few moments, a slight frown and then a nod, finally a smile spreads over her features and a bounce comes to her step as Jen locates a seat to sit in and get secured.  Through the flight her attention is split between the reading of the data packet by Nutball and something that distracts in her own head.

After landing and leaving the transport she pets the side of the fuselage almost tenderly before watching the unloading and then paying attention to 'Vector', head tilting at the mention of food, then nodding and heading off after Theresa towards the outpost.

I do hope the locals are not vegetarian.

Sunyi arrived for the flight dressed the same as he was for the briefing: clean and well-made, but simple and a little threadbare, travel clothing. He had a small energy pistol at his hip and a backpack stuffed full of as many scientific tools and instruments as he could carry.

He'd been in the air before. Both of his parents were pretty badass spellcasters, so he'd been around more than a little. All the same, this was his first airlift across North America so he was excited to have a look around.

Once down he hopped off and was pretty much ready to go instantly.

He smiled at Jennifer's comment. "Let's hope they aren't cannibals first."

Not that Wyoming had a fierce reputation or anything.

But still.

Moving into the Weller Group camp was easy. The layout was straight forward with clear signs pointing the way to the facilities of the camp; medical, armory, motor pool, communications, information, cartography, cafeteria, supply shop, etc. Tall lights stands were positioned all around so that the camp would be fully illuminated at night. Around the perimeter of the clearing where the town, camp, and airfield was located, security patrols were always on the move.

In the town, less than a quarter mile from the camp, it was plain to see neat rows of old houses, a small school, a fire house, and the old courthouse. The town was busy with tourist clicking photos, trying so called 'traditional American' cuisine, or buying knock-off articles of authentic clothing.

Walking toward the Weller camp country guitar music emanated from the vicinity of Hawkins chest and he sang quietly,

"Canniballlll vegetariannnnsss on the Lone Prair-ieeeee..."

"They might eeeaat youuuuuu...but they won't eat meeeeeeeee!"

He was still carrying the bike since it was such a short trip.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:34, Wed 21 Apr 2021.

Pyro enjoyed the flight for the most part, although she enjoyed flying under her own power more. She knew though that that had a limited duration and using it to fly out to the Weller Group camp might use up her power when she might need it later. So she took the ride with the rest of the team, though they didn't feel much like teammates at the moment. Of course they'd just met each other and were still getting to know one another too, so the feeling of them being teammates would come later.

Once they landed, Pyro kept an eye on them offloading her hover bike, something she took a lot of pride in having. It was in decent condition, not perfect but then the only way to keep it in perfect condition would be not to use it. As she used it quite a bit to get around from point A to point B and anywhere else she needed to go that she didn't want to show off her powers to do so. Checking she had the rest of her gear, Pyro nodded and made her way over to the camp and looked things over. So far there didn't seem to be any surprises.

Mei appeared at the plan in what she'd been wearing to the meeting- a heavy woven silk robe, swords at her hip. But with her came a horse, a muscular black steed, loaded with what else she called her own. A few half-empty bags. A suit of wooden armor. A bow and a small collection of arrows fletched with feathers. A flute carved from a shoot of bamboo. Very little, all told, even compared to some of the others.

At the edge of the airstrip, she knelt. Silently praying, eyes closed. It only took a few minutes, her fingers ran through the grass before she stood again. Leading her horse to the plane and readying to take off.

On the plane, she was silent for most of the journey. Though it was clear she was uncomfortable being strapped in. Moving and twisting inside the restraints. But she was, at least, able to accomplish one of her travel goals. When Hawkins awoke, it was with a few long strands of grass from the edge of the airstrip tied loosely together and set into his lap. Mei, sitting next to him, clearly struggling to suppress a grin. However, she refused to address the matter further.

When the plane landed and the seats released, Mei was nearly the first one on her feet. Leaping up, rushing to her horse. Leading it out of the craft as quickly as she could manage, stroking its flank as the creature recovered from the stress.

There wasn't much to say to the approaching vehicles. Mei mounted up, and rode into the encampment.

 Inexpensive, unsealed armour... A sword, a standard-issue rifle and a sidearm with half the magazine slots on his webbing empty. In terms of battle-readiness, Killian ranks somewhere near the back but he seems willing enough, even if he's fairly quiet - although not so quiet that he doesn't rumble "Killian." when the introductions are passed around and groan a quiet "MOM augmentation. Right. That'd check out." a moment later.

 Theresa gets a sharp look mid-way through the flight, but no accusations or judgment... More a sort of assessment and a faint, air-expelling 'chuff' before he goes back to the window.


 When it turns out that there's no-one who needs a damn' thing at the airport, he shrugs and adjusts his webbing a little before hiking the short distance into town, stretching his legs a little into a lazy, ground-eating jog as he does so.

The Weller Group personnel were friendly, mostly. There was some side looks and obvious surprised stares. But no one was openly disapproving or unkind. There was music filtering out of a dozen tents and the mix of people working for the Weller Group in the camp was surprising. There were more dog boys, some funny-looking aliens that resembled living cucumbers, local tribal natives, and there was even a honest to goodness Federation Battle Magi walking guard next to a Juicer. All wore Weller Group articles of clothing and an identification badge.

Entering the core of the camp was similar to entering a bazaar of trade meet. There was a large central area with tables and benches. A big bonfire burned away. The was a large elk spitted and roasting over the flames. In open faced prefab shops people prepared equipment that had been just delivered from the aircraft. To the eastern edge of the central area came the biggest shock for most. Whoam Mountain, the teams mountain giant local guide was sitting on a large tree boil sipping beer from a steel bucket. Though, it did look more like a mug and less like a bucket in his big hand.

A tall, older man in Weller Group coveralls and a 'cowboy' style hat was walking up as the expedition members filtered in with their gear. He was carrying a box in his hands and had a big smile on his face. He had the look of a academic but the facial scars of a veteran.

"Hello, hello." Said the older man with the box. He set it one of the tables. "Please, please, help yourselves. These are the latest in maps and data downloads from our topographical studies. I included radio code logs, their disposable similar to those used in the military with a standard advance cycle in case of the need to avoid electronic eaves dropping. Oh, and, there are photographs of map reference points and constellations based on point of view to use as quick navigational references as well."

  As Willy makes his way into camp, he will make sure his hover car & gear is taken care of, wanting to know where it will be if he needs it.  The surroundings seem to put him more at ease, like he prefers a camp to a city.  He's smiling the whole time, an even bigger smile than ever, if anything.
  He'll look over everything handed to him, taking mental notes.  In his head, he is already thinking about possible routes to take, sometimes softly muttering stuff like "well, we've got horses & such, so we can't go that way".
  When he sees the giant, he almost seems startled.  "Dang!  Now that's what I call a BIG drinker!  I wonder how much he eats?  Fer that matter, does he walk everywhere?  That'd be important to know fer the trip."

"Howdy. Thank ya."

Hawkins accessed the box by the simple expedient of plugging a cable from his wrist into it. The upload to his onboard systems didn't take long at all and he unplugged the cable and retracted it.

Passing through the majority of the camp without slowing down Theresa makes her first stop the big Mountain Giant where she greets him very casually, clearly a friend if not an old friend.  Gesturing at the camp as a whole, but the elk in particular she speaks to him directly in a very focused manner but loudly enough for anyone nearby to easily overhear, clearly whispering would be useless.  ”Nice place you found us here Whoam, looks like they found you a nice snack for the evening.  Now before you get too excited you need to be careful with all the puppies, they are the fragile kind and you don't want to break them again do you?”

In reply to Sunyi's cannibal comment Jen offers a grin.

Cannibals are easier to deal with than vegetarians.  You can shoot a cannibal with no one minding much. She laughed a little at Hawkins' song.

Like others Jen made sure her kit was unloaded and stored, making a note of the guards around the place and that it seemed quite secure she made the decision to leave the rifle in it's holster on the side of the hovercycle.

On reaching the encampment with the others and taking it in she pointed at the spit roasting elk.  Looks like that answers my question. A rather pleased tone to her voice.

As the older man presented the equipment and the data downloads Jen took up a coms headset and examined it for a moment before spilling in the ear bud and attaching the rest of the rig to her armour.  Then reached to the the device that had the information on it, fingers brushing almost tenderly over the surface her gaze zoned out for a second and then she nodded and gave a smile.

What a sweet little think, so very helpful.

To those that could sense the use of mental powers, that was a definite display, maybe done to demonstrate to people.  Indeed Jen looked at the others gathered.

Part of why I am on this trip is to speak with computers, and machines.  And know some of the stories that objects have to tell.  When I speak to a machine I know how to fix it as well, so if anything is broken come ask.  I can do a bit of fixing on people too, but best working along side a proper healer or doctor.

It seams Jen was more comfortable talking about her abilities and reason for being in the expedition now they were away from the CS.

Tourists?!  Really?!  Nutball's voice is incredulous over this revelation.  All of the potential dangers around this place, and these idiots are sightseeing.  He shakes his head.
Until he sees the giant.  Wow!  Does he have an axe and big blue ox called Babe?  I bet he COULD chop down a tree in one swing.
E stands away from the fire as he joins the others at the table, taking up the box to inspect its contents.  More maps, reports, and photographs.  He drops the stuff back in the box, and sniffs the air.  I want some of that good-smellin' stuff.

 It's probably no surprise to anyone that Killian's hackles go up around the Federation Mage... The individual has a death sentence on them anywhere near Coalition territory after all... But if the other Dog Boys present (and they get a look-over of their own) aren't causing trouble then he's not about to, and so he takes himself over to the briefing table where it takes only a moment for him to fill a few of the empty slots on his webbing with L-clips before starting to pour over the maps - he (of course) ignores the radio logs and other written documentation for painfully obvious reasons - while asking politely of the Man with the Box "Can we get copies of these, sir?"

"Yes. As many as you need." He seems to stop and think for a second and then replies, "Killian. It must have been hard living life as K1-LL1-AN. I am glad to have you along."

Whoam sat drinking a microkeg. At nearly twelve feet tall he was taller than most of the people on base while sitting down. He was bare chested wore the hide of some unidentifiable tawny furred creature. Her wore a belt of various skulls mostly animal skulls and a necklace of claws and teeth. He was quietly jovial waving to people who had been friendly to him greeting them by name. He is quite happy to greet Theresa "THERESA! YOU HERE. THERE PUPPIES!? SAW ONE SMART DOG IN BOX, THERE MORE? WHAT THEIR NAMES? CAN I PET THEM? THEY LIKE BEER?" He paused seeming a bit distracted. "PEOPLE WORRIED. THIS LOST TRIBE, WE MAKE THE KIDS SAFE. ALL THESE PEOPLE. WELLER WORRIED, CAUTIOUS?

After a short time a man comes out of a tent with a guitar and begins picking a lively tune. In moments several people working to set the tables and put out dishes of locally grown vegetables to go with the roast elk begin singing along with the tune. While this is going on several people wheel out dollies with kegs of chilled beer.

As mugs are set out on a table near the kegs a woman begins tapping away on a small drum and another begins playing a saxophone. In moments more people begin singing. The feel, despite its away-at-camp setting, is one of business as usual. Just another dinner in the camp. More people begin filtering in with small boxes and crates from the aircraft as trucks loaded to the point of flattening their wheels a bit roll up. With orders people begin unloading and unpacking the equipment from the aircraft.

"To the incoming expeditionary team. Please assemble at the center of camp." A woman announced over a public address system. "To the incoming expeditionary team. Please assemble at the center of camp. Director Bishop will be addressing the expeditionary team at dinner. All other personnel please see to assigned duties. The imminent departure of the expeditionary team still has priority."

 "Not really sir. Think about the alternative. Dead by fifteen, less in the wild. No family. No hands. No language. Definitely no frozen peanut butter treats. People tend to concentrate on the negatives I have to deal with, but from my point of view, I won the lottery*." Killian answers in his very best talking-to-officers voice, which manages to be polite, respectful, distant and informative without actually giving anything away (because officers shouldn't be troubled with things they might need to do something about - after all, if they could do things they wouldn't be officers, they'd be sergeants).

 "In any event, thank you sir. I'll take the maps and the star chart references. I haven't got a PLI#, but I can muddle through.", then starting at the announcement and offering The Man with the Box a salute, "If you'll excuse me, sir?"

 ---

* Bonus points to those who spot the reference.
 # Personal Language Interpreter  - the invented-on-the-spot TLA for the computer 80-odd percent of CS grunts use to 'read'.

Just about ready to respond to the big mountain of a man Theresa is interrupted by the PA system and builds that directly into her reply as if she had planned it all along.  ”That is us, come along and I will point them out to you on the way.  And yes we will need to be helping the tribe do some stuff.  This is Killian, the one you have seen already, that is Jennifer, and the one with all four feet on the ground is called Princess.”

Following her own advice Theresa heads for the presumed center of camp, likely somewhere near the fire pit, as she passes close to it she reaches out and grabs a chunk of meat off the cooking corpse, stuffing the thing directly into her mouth as if that wasn't at least a little odd.

When the music starts, the smiley-face armored warrior can feel the beat and the music enter him, and he begins to dance:

https://images.app.goo.gl/m7LFWMFC5Yv4QwjA7
21:25, Today: Nutball rolled 34 using 1d100.  Dance @ 45%.

However, when the announcement comes that they are to meet with the base commander for dinner, he stops and slumps his shoulders in disappointment.  And we were  just getting into our groove.  Maybe after dinner, guys, he says to nobody.
He looks to the others of the expedition.  Let's go get our grub on.  And hear whatever else they think we need to know.  And he begins walking towards the indicated location.

In reply to Killian (msg # 24):

"I'll take a Dog Boy over a dog any day. They're much better shots."

Done with the intel Hawkins tagged along with Killian and Jennifer to the appointed location.

An older woman in a lab coat walked out into the middle of the tables as everyone gathered. She was older with a dark complexion that seemed to shinny in the fire light. She was carrying a new set of photographs.

"Hello, it so great to see you." She began. "I am Doctor Langford. I am the actual camp commandant. I know you were supposed to talk to one of the directors, but I need to address you all. There has been something of an event. This area is usually known for its ley line activity. Especially near the medicine wheel where you are supposed begin your investigation of the area."

She took a beer from a tray and swallowed a gulp before continuing.

"As you will see on the latest topographic overlays there is an anomaly that has just occurred." She started talking again. She seemed genuinely enthusiastic. "We have no idea what is happening there. We have experienced a technical issue, well, it's almost like the anomaly is interfering with our electronics. It has thrown our Federation trained mages into a tizzy as well."

She signaled for a monitor to be activated showing the picture.

"The areas ley lines are gone. We believe the anomaly has drawn their power in. Most likely opening a localized rift." She began, pointing to the picture on the monitor. "We believe this why it has been so hard to locate. That whatever is causing the temporal displacement is not, ah, how say it, stable is good word. The town is still caught up by the rifting process. Moving it around the region."

She pointed at the diamond shaped marker.

"This is where the anomaly is. I need you to go there. tonight." She turned and cast her gaze about the group. "Get there and capture footage, pictures, sound bites, sensor readings, drawings, first impressions, anything and everything. I need information. Do that, for me, tonight. And I will through in a twenty-five hundred credit bonus of each of your checks this month."

Slipping some extra e-clips into pouches, Jen decides to take advantage of the generosity as they clips can be expensive to get hold of.  As music and then food starts to turn up she relaxes, about to move in on some food when the PA system calls them to a briefing. She noticed being pointed out to the giant and gave a hesitant wave in return.  Looking up to flash a smile at Hawkins as they move to the center of the camp.  A glance at Killian, having heard the exchange between and the man, it seemed like maybe he used to be with the CS.  Her feelings were a little mixed about that, though more inclined to allow him some lea way in the trust department.

Finding a table edge to half perch on she listens intently to the new mission, things are always changing, especially around nexus points.  Watching the images that come up on the screen and hearing the information from the doctor Jen nods along.

So mount up and straight at it?  Is it ok to grab some food to have on the way, that beast there is smelling all kinds of good.

"By all means, get properly prepared." Doctor Langford said. "I have re-tasked one of out smaller aircraft to take you to within a mile of the anomaly. It will be here in approximately forty minutes. Can you be ready to go then?"

Sunyi smiled. "That's cool, I like to get right to work anyway."

He made sure he also had sufficient clips for the rifle and pistol he carried. He seldom used them, but all the same they were nice to have around.

He walked up to the commandant.

"Uh, Doctor? Hey. I'm the resident egghead here. What have you got for me, in terms of equipment? Anything in particular you need me to use?"

"Like I said. Thumbs." Killian answers as the group files over to the briefing and spends some time listening to the report, his ears lowering steadily through the course of it until they're more or less plastered flat to his skull, his body language in general showing his foreboding at the situation - because the flip side of the sensitivity to supernatural forces that make Dog Boys so useful is... Well, a sensitivity to supernatural forces.

 And wandering into the middle of a massive Ley Live disruption is more or less guaranteed to be a short trip to migraine central.

 Still, that's not exactly something he's not done before, and so with a general attitude of 'shut up and soldier' he (ironically) speaks up "EM distortion could make electronic recording devices unreliable Ma'am. Do you have any mechanical/chemical cameras or the like we can use?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:08, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

Rather than waste the now precious time chatting Theresa heads directly to the cafeteria, where she very nearly inhales a meal made almost entirely of deserts and other typically flavorful items then heads to the supply shop to check out their selection of trail snacks, although she spares a little attention to some of the other travel aid things they don't seem to be able to keep her focus for long enough to buy anything potentially useful.

On the way back out and off to the airstrip she checks on Whoam to make sure he is packed and going along. ”It looks like you will get to meet some of the dogs on the move, just don't try to carry them around again, they like to walk on their own.”

Nutball collects three piled-high plates of food and three bottles of beer, making sure to sit somewhere he has an open seat on either side of him.  Taking off his helmet and revealing the head-covering Greek Comedy mask he wears, he leans over each plate and takes a long, drawn out sniff.
Rosemary, oregano, paprika, thyme, cinnamon, nutmeg, sage, cayenne, ginger, so many seasonings used.  It is too bad you guys can't enjoy this.  That's okay.  I'll be sure to eat it all in your steads.
Pulling his mask up to reveal the pinkish, bumpy, burn-scar tissue from the tip of his nose to his chin and neck, Nutball begins to devour the first plate, and washing it down with the first bottle if beer.  Yuck.  Beer still tastes like horse-piss.
At some point during his eating of the second plate, he looks up and pauses as he wipes his mouth and chin with an available napkin.  So night-time reconnoiter of a strange and mystical leyline nexus anomaly, with no information on qhat might be there, and waht might be causing it?  And bonus money to boot?  Sounds like fun.  We're in.

If anyone decides to look at his aura, ket me know.  See Invisible shows the Crazy as being all by himself.

Mei follows along, staying within proximity of at least one of the individuals she knows who speak at least a little Japanese. Not that she says anything. Prefering, instead, to follow behind. Trying, but largely failing, to mask her utter confusion at the place they've arrived at. It seemed like a village but... There was no obvious sign of anything that was like what a village did. No fields, no farmers, no signs of anyone doing anything even remotely useful.

At least there was something alcoholic, even if it was some sort of cheap, peasant ale.

The briefing about the bonus was not much more helpful than the first one. At least this time they would be going closer to their actual goal. But another aircraft? Mei could only frown in response before she left to gather her armor. She wouldn't let them go without her, no matter how little she liked the idea.

"We absolutely can be."

Dropping within a mile meant he wouldn't need the bike. The unknown situation meant he was taking everything else.

He moved to get Mei's attention before she walked away and spoke to her quietly in his professor perfect Japanese.

[Japanese]"Would it help you if I translated all of our instructions? I can transmit the translation directly to you."

"I actually have a device I could lend you that would do it for you but it is slower than my own systems. A five to ten second delay."

"I am happy to provide either solution. I would prefer not to have a valuable ally hindered by a language barrier."[Japanese]

Pyro had grabbed some food, she'd been hungry and it was free which made it all the better. Not that she was hurting for funds, but a free meal was a good thing. Splashing the meat with some hot sauce she tended to carry with her, it seemed like food couldn't be spicy enough for her so she carried her favorite hot sauce with her.

She gathered with the others as she finished up eating while she listened to the woman speak and nodded her silent consent that she could be ready to go in an hour. That would be no problem and left her enough time to get into her armor as well. Donning it, she made sure she had her weapons secured to her, though she didn't carry that many as she relied on her powers more. Once done, she was ready to go and waited in the assembly area for the others.

Whoam follows Theresa like a slightly confused toddler. He grabs some food for himself  again on the way through the cafeteria and tries to quietly slip extra into one of his sacks. While Whoam wasn't one to steal rations, he acted like someone who had lived through famines and thus was always cautious about when and what his next meal might be. He also finished and replaced his beer. The man could drink an elephant under the table but seemed to favor dark heavy beers over the stronger stuff. Again it seemed to be about calories and hunger rather than any particular love of alcohol. Whoam didn't seem to be able to get drunk for the most part.

"HI JENNI, HI KILLIAN." He greeted each in passing at what apparently passed for a whisper. He listened to the briefing in quiet reflection, making it hard to tell how much he'd understood. "I RIDE CARGO AGAIN?" He sounded a bit frustrated by this while he wasn't so big a plane bigger than a crop duster would have trouble lifting him, he was big enough planes simply weren't meant to accommodate him. On the other hand he was pretty indestructible and had ridden as cargo before. He didn't like it but was willing to put up with it apparently.

He stared at Nutball confused apparently by not being able to see his 'companions'. (He'll attempt see-invisible because it seems relevant if anyone cares or should notice this). He furrowed his brows. "THERESA? WHO IS MAN TALKING TO?" He asked in his version of a whisper. While waiting for an answer he attempted to surreptitiously hand Jennifer what could be described as a strip of elk meat from his sack. It was about the size of a generous chicken tender didn't look soiled per se but did just get pulled from a giant's sack. He pretended that he wasn't doing it but was fairly obvious

That will be plenty of time for me.

The hail from the giant took Jen off guard for a moment, but she rallied and offered a smile.

Umm...Hello. There was a slight tendency for her to draw out word sounds in a slight purr.

As the briefing was over she was about to step away to start preparations when the elk meat strip was 'palmed' off to her.  Jen was again slightly startled but the gesture was not lost on her and with a wide grin up at Whoam and in a small stage whisper said.

Thank you.

Moving away to collect rifle and the pack with survival gear and tools Jen started immediately to tear into the offered food, the meat was exactly what those teeth had been designed for and she wolfed the morsel down.

Having gathered equipment she took a pass by the dinner table as well to secure more of a meal, which consisted of only meat in her case.  Soon Jen was at the landing area, waiting to be directed to their craft.

Nutball looks up at the giant.   My friends call me Nutball.  But, you can call me Nutball, he says to Whoam.  I'm speaking with my long time friends, he indicates the seat to his right, Frank, and, he indicates the seat to his right, Al.
They died several years ago, but they decided to stick around.

  Still smiling from ear to ear, Willy greets everyone with a practiced, friendly manner.  He reads through the data & radio logs quickly, but studies the maps, photographs, & references carefully.  You can practically see the gears in his head working as he plans various routes, muttering to himself as he does.  Later, when he hears that the group will be airlifted into the area, he quietly comments "that'll change everything", & almost immediately looks at the map again.
 .
(in response to Jen)
  Grinning broadly, "I'm glad someone on the team can understand machines.  I can barely make heads nor tails of most of the inner workings of my own guns!"
.
(in response to Nutball)
  Giving a shrug, "There always seems to be folks with more time and money than they know what to do with.  Invariably, it seems they transform into tourists.  I don't know how it happens, nor where they all come from, but there always seems ta be a supply of 'em."
.
(in response to Killian)
  While looking over the map, "Say!  That's a great idea!  I'm useta having ta just look and memorize stuff.  Thanks fella." as he gives Killian a smile, folding & pocketing copies of the maps, photos, & references.  "I like peanut butter too."  he says, as he gives him a friendly wink.
.
  When the music starts up, his foot starts to tap with the rhythm, & he begins to whistle quietly along.  He stops completely when he hears the announcement over the speakers, seeming almost disappointed.  "Well shucks!  That little tune was gettin' a might enjoyable, too.  At least there will be some grub."
  He gladly partakes of the beer and food when offered, saying "Thankya kindly!  Always did appreciate cool beer and warm food."  He makes sure Princess gets plenty as well.
.
(after Doctor Langford's briefing)
  "Forty minutes?  Shucks, that's almost casual."  He immediately triples the speed at which he was eating, finishing 2 more full plates of food & 6 beers in less than 10 minutes.
  At hearing Sunyi's & Killian's requests, he pauses to pipe in, asking "Do you have anything that can take pictures through a scope, or at night?  Maybe somethin' I can strap ta my skull bucket?  I ain't got nothin' to take pictures or vids yet, but if'n I can get something, I'll do my best with it."  He politely waits for a response before finishing his food.
  Before Hawkins heads in a different direction, Willy asks the cyborg a question, "Say big fella.  I was wondering if you was planning on brining anything heavy, so's I can compliment it.  Heavy wise, I can bring a grenade or rocket launcher.  I see the fella with the mask has what looks ta be a plasma rifle already."  He nods to Nutball as he mentions it.
  Afterwards he heads for his car & gear, grabbing some extra ammo on the way (1 drum for the grenade launcher he'll bring, 1 Eclip for the JA-11, & a handful of extra hand grenades).  He'll get geared up in his armor & weapons.  (loadout in character description, but with the JA-11 & grenade launcher)  He'll report back to Doctor Langford, armed to the teeth, helmet at his hip, Princess at his side.  "Ready to go, Doc!  Need help with anything?"  He visibly pondered something a moment, then asked "If it comes up, who's in charge out in the field?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:17, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

"German particle beam rifle and a few odds and ends...little fella."

Hawkins proceeded to collect some extra ammo as well.

 He's still pretty obviously waiting for a reply from Doctor Langford, but even so Killian looks back when a small mobile tectonic event yells his name and slams his ears right back down against his scalp. He grimaces a little, but since he's working with a very different group of people just now, he simply nods back and offers a small wave before offering another reserved nod to Book - no sense being rude after all - "Testimony's all well and good. Pictures are better."

Sunyi is pretty much ready to go. He doesn't need much. He is still a little worried about access to scientific equipment though. He had some basic supplies, and his own brain, but anything more complex than that and he'd need machines.

In reply to Killian (msg # 43):

are you asking nutball, the player, or the gm? you'd probably get three answers to the question of weather or not there are supernatural entities hanging around nutball.

"NICE KITTY.", Whoam replied after Jenifer, in a declarative rather than nominative voice. He watched her leave quite pleased with himself.

Whoam squinted at Nutball "NO" he spoke with a strange mixture of confusion and certainty. "I WOULD SEE GHOSTS. I DON'T SEE YOUR FRIENDS. MAYBE YOU SHOULD FIND MEDICINE MAN, THEY KNOW THESE THINGS."

Whoam didn't really have much to pack. He had a club. He had food. If something needed to be destroyed the club worked better than a gun, and if range were a concern he could sling rocks like a catapult. So he was still at a leisurely pace and willing to give the crazy advice on finding pastoral counseling.

In reply to Whoam Mountain (msg # 46):

Of course you can't see them, silly, Nutball chuckles.  They only show themselves to me.  They're very shy.
He finishes the plates quickly, then grabs his C14 Firebreather laser assault rifle and grenade launcher and starts to head back for additional e-clips.  We're off to get more ammo, so we'll see you guys on the plane.  Good to meet you, big guy.
As soon as he grabs some additional e-clips for both his sidearm and his rifle, he heads for the plane.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:13, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

[Japanese]"That would be ... Helpful," Mei answered, her Japanese more casual and spoken. Inflected in ways that the Borg might not immediately recognize. [Japanese]"This place is strange. What are these people even doing here? Is this just some sort of military camp? Why are people just wandering around?" she spoke rapidly, finding it trouble to slow down once she got started.

[Japanese]"Will this airship bring us closer to the Rift? Do you play the guitar?"

Hawkins smiled at the last question and nodded. When he spoke it was again in academically perfect Japanese.

[Japanese]"This operation belong to a business, a corporation, not a military. Most of these people are not soldiers. Even those that are are perhaps less disciplined than you may be accustomed to."

[Japanese]"Yes, the aircraft will drop us within a mile of the Medicine Wheel nexus."

[Japanese]"No, sadly I do not actually play the guitar. I love music and I have a lot of my favorites stored in my onboard computer."

He tapped himself on the chest.

The cyborg produced a tiny earpiece from a pouch before he continued.

[Japanese]"Speaking of machines. If you wear this it will help me to translate."

He offered the earbud to Mei as they walked.

Dr. Langford used the p.a. system to address them saying, "Expedition team, the aircraft is ready for boarding. Take what gear you need. There is a box containing an improvised portable sensor array for the scientist and the doctor. I apologize for not having your names memorized, this is all happening so fast. Please be careful, understanding this anomaly is important to us. But, it is not worth your lives."

With that the p.a. went silent. The camp personnel moved out of the way so everyone could make their way to the food in passing should anyone have wanted a last minute bite to eat. The man at the kegs set out a crate of bottled waters as well as a large bottle of pain relievers for anyone interested.

(OOC: So please make a note of the gear, weapons, armor, etc. that you will be taking with you. the aircraft that is providing the insertion is small so everyone will be on foot at the site. You will be picked up once you have had time to observe the anomaly.

the sensor units provided are purely scientifical supre-dooper sciencey stuff. they take measurements of various energies. such as UV, EM, para-magnetic, para-electro, and some other made shit like that. They work by using a hand-held directional unit and pointing it at what you want to scam, i mean scan. There is also a head lamp/camera/microphone combo too.)

While passing through the cafeteria equipment line with Whoam Theresa splits their cargo more efficiently, giving Whoam two crates of water and keeping two bottles of pills for herself.  She does not seem interested in the science gear, and makes the reasonable assessment it is best for the big lug to not even touch the stuff so she steers away from that area entirely.

Already on their way to the airfield when the PA goes off she doesn't even bother picking up the pace from her leisurely stroll to get to the plane first, clearly content to just not be last.  Unlike the first time the safety harness causes her no difficulty even though the model on this craft is likely to be a bit different than the previous one.

Having taken the pack off the back of her hovercycle which contained survival kit, the NG-02 kit was good quality and very common, and tool kit, Jen was ready to go.  The JA-11 rifle was holstered for the moment on the pack for this trip until they set down.  With the loading given a go ahead she moved up into the transport quickly and found a place to perch securely and out of the way, watching other arrive eagerly a hand caressed lightly on the interior frame of the craft, as if welcoming or comforting a pet, speaking softly under her breath.

Hello new friend.  It might only be a short time but I hope it will be good, I want you to be happy and take care of us.

 With The Doc having no interest at all in answering his request, Killian settles back to just salute with a simple "Sir." and head over to equip himself, pausing along the way to skewer a few slices of elk (which he more or less bolts down on the way rather than take time from his duties) and to snag both a headset and a handheld gizmo-pack, the former of which he spends a few minutes figuring out how to mate up to the standard equipment couplings on his light-duty CS helmet and the latter of which he clips to his webbing before moving over to the light aircraft and joining the queue by way of snagging two bottles of water.

Mei took the earbud. She looked down at it, seated in the palm of her hand. Back up to the mechanical man. She normally managed to keep a neutral expression, but it was clear she was skeptical. A slight sigh followed, and the young woman tucked the device against her ear. There seemed to be little choice about the matter- she didn't want to be going any further with only half an idea of what they were doing.

It was just in time to catch the announcement over the speaker. [Japanese]"Perhaps next time they would consider a runner..." Mei grumbled in something that sounded like criticism.

She appeared at the meeting point several minutes later. Wearing her wooden armor- tied on with silk cords, the only bit of metal a face mask stylized as a snarling tiger. Bow strung over one shoulder, feathered arrows over the other. Her swords at her hip. Along with a small collection of supplies, food, in case they were in the wilds any length of time.

Having gathered his additional e-clips (all both of them), Nutball heads for the plane.  He is carrying his full ruck, with saddle bags flipped over it and tied in place.  He also collects the radio and he sensor unit, though he stows them away in his pack.
Once aboard he plane, he find seats for himself and his ghostly siblings, making sure everyone is buckled in.  This is when he takes out the new file and begins poring over it.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:08, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Hawkins arrived back as well and now, since wearing the heavy armored helmet was more convenient than carrying it, his war robot disguise was complete.

He had added a few things after stowing his bike. He wore a pack large enough for some members of the team to fit in it with a Wilke's plasma flamer attached to one side and a hammer that would have done Mighty Thor proud attached to the other.

The previously mentioned German Particle Beam rifle, a TX-249 model, was carried in his hands and was, as advertised an enormous weapon.

"With this earbud in place I can speak directly to you as well. The range is limited to about 5 miles."]

Seeing Jennifer on the plane he asked, "What do you think of her? Will she get us there?"

In reply to Killian (msg # 53):

(OOC: you don't get a sense of the good Dr. Langford being to concerned with answering everyone's questions. she has that air or authority common to project leaders, funded professors, and department chair persons - the old 'that's below my paygrade' mentality. she hasn't really addressed anyone's concerns in way that would make anyone think she was concerned with their opinion.)

Responding to being addressed by Hawkins Jen offers a shape toothed smile.

Yes she will.  She's well looked after.  Hmmm good to see you have some heavy stuff, always hope to never need it, but would really miss it if it is needed.

Spotting the stylings of Mei's helmet she offered a grin to the warrior woman, lifting her own helmet from it's hip clip to show of the leopard head paint work on it.

That's really great artwork you have there.

  Willy grabs a headlamp combo & 3 bottles of water, giving a chuckle to the pain relievers.  After putting 2 bottles in a pocket on his rucksack, he downs the 3rd while jogging to the transport.  Despite the leisurely appearance of his gate, he is moving as fast as most men can sprint, & doesn't spill a single drop of water.
  While waiting for the others to board the aircraft, he takes off his helmet long enough to attach the combo device, does his best to make sure it is working but without the lamp shining, then straps his helmet back on.
  (edited for new information)
This message was last edited by the player at 22:43, Thu 29 Apr 2021.

"If I'm honest it's just too expensive to risk leavin' it behind."

Whoam waves off the suggestion that he needs more water, he taps his waterskin, a paleolithic looking thing seemingly crafted from the bladder of a moose rather than the traditional sheep. The thing looked to weigh as much as a ten year old, but seemed entirely suitable as a canteen for the giant. He could have emptied an entire flat case of half liter bottle into that and still had room left.

He looked less sure about the pills. "WE NEED CARRY SOMETHING? I DON'T MIND CARRYING MORE. I AM GOOD AT LIFTING THINGS, AND I RUN FAST."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:02, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

The aircraft turned out to be a highly modified bush plane. It looked like what would have happened if a short bus had been bred to a small, propeller engine aircraft and coaxed into adulthood by a magician. It screamed three things at the assembled group; techno-wizardry, cramped seating, and lack of protection from ground fire.

A man walked up to the group. There was tall, very attractive woman with him. There wasn't a logo on the plane or on their sort-of uniforms. But, there was a distinct aura of magic coming off of the pair. The woman had the facial tattoos typically found on Federation of Magic Battle Magi. Images of the sleek battle mage seen on patrol earlier came to many minds.

"I am you pilot." The man said simply. "My name Nemo Letouche. And yes, I am a techno-wizard and this is my plane. It is will get us to our destination quickly, quietly, and safely. This is my co-pilot and wife, Bridgette. You can call her by her call-sign; Brake. And believe me, no can put the brakes on stupid behavior faster."

When everyone just stood and stared at is attempt at humor the woman stepped forward. The scars and tattoos denoting rank, both military and social, made it plain to see that the woman was more one them than anyone would care to admit. When she spoke her voice was a bit husky, almost raspy. Most likely that had something to do with the scar across her throat.

"My husband is jovial, don't hold that against him." She said in a matter of fact tone. It was like she was talking to teammates and not strangers. "He is good pilot and a better techno-wizard. The flight will take this aircraft about twenty-six to thirty-one minutes. We will be flying low and using noise and EM dampening tech. You will be given one orbit at five hundred feet. I will select the landing spot. You will get out there. Any questions?"

Whoam smiled nervously, "HELLO NEMO, BRAKE." He wasn't a fan of this idea, but less than an hour seemed a manageable amount of time for being cramped in a flying coffin.
Whoam looked at Hawkins hopefully he suggested. "WE BOARD LAST, SO HIT GROUND FIRST?" It wasn't clear if he meant in case they needed to jump off so they wouldn't risk landing on someone, or taking point in case they landed in somewhere dangerous, but the main thing seemed to be the giant wanted to spend as little time as possible cramped into a plane.

Offering his hand to shake the borg agreed, "Sure thing Buddy. I'll be right beside ya."

Hawkins answered Brake, "Sounds clear enough."

He increased his volume slightly so as to be heard be everyone.

"I'll be recording and taking readings from the time we exit the plane. Any of you analyst types who want access to it let me know and I'll real time share it with you directly."

"Otherwise I'll dump it when we get back and you can look over it there."

We gotcha loud and clear, Nobody and Stop.  He has the C14 leaning against his inner thigh, and his arms out like they are resting on the shoulders of people slightly taller than himself on either side of his seat.

 No-one's been all that interested up until now, but as a distraction from the ugly, greasy sensation of magical static sliding under his fur in a way that no amount of showering is going to make him feel clean from Killian speaks up, "We'll want to pick a rendezvous point outside the distortion for when we're done. And a schedule to meet there. Spatial disruption can really mess your sense of direction up so it'll need to be something fairly obvious."

Tucked in a seat securely with the pack stuffed under said seat Jennifer listened to all that was happening and the organizing going on.  Not a whole lot there she could input on, though she gave an affirmative to agree with the idea of Hawkins and Whoam being the first to exit and hold the landing area if need be.

Letting her attention now wander to the magically empowered aircraft, it was a delightful thing.

  Willy busies himself, checking his gear, then checking the armor on Princess.  He looks up at the pair as they approach, listening closely.
  He looks slightly disappointed at the exchange between the 2 largest members of the team, but seems to accept it, simply adding "I'll be right behind you."
  At Killian's suggestion, Willy nods, commenting  "I like that idea.  It's always good to know where the back door is."
  He reluctantly gets on the plane 3rd from last,  leaving room for Whoam & Hawkins next to the exit.  If there is a seat available, he will strap Princess in as best he can, sitting next to her.

The group had to jockey about several times to make everyone fit. It was tight, too tight should something happen during the flight. The engine fired up making a comically whiny, toy-like sound. Everyone chuckled, especially after the ride into Emblem on the larger aircraft.

The vehicle rolled bouncily along, slowly and then whoosh. It climbed to a hundred feet and suddenly it just took off like it had sprouted scram jets. The breeze was welcomed. The flight took less than ten minutes. They began to see the faint glow two minutes into the flight. As the plane neared the site it banked into an orbit.

The area was glowing, not from some sort of magical apparition, but from sunlight escaping through the rift into this world. The structures all looked surreal and oddly antique. The buildings all bore strange writing and symbols. Figures hustled about in confusion as they tried to discern their situation.

There were a lot of people, 704 to be exact, according to Hawkins sensors. And they were armed with some form of high density, steel-alloy firearm, and incredibly dense ferro-ceramic armor. Possibly a really tough fight.

There were eleven buildings. And what looked like a tank of sorts. But, it wasn't some town from several centuries ago on this earth. It looked relatively new and most assuredly high tech. There was a ping of electromagnetic energy that registered on various sensor in the plane, the cyborg, and some of the more sophisticated electronic equipment.

"Head for the ground." Nemo's voice cut in on the internal p.a. over the sounds of engine and wind. "That clearing of one-seven-seven. Put you guys about eight hundred yards out. We'll be on station, just call. Good hunting."

And with that he plane dropped into a stomach-lurching dive into the night and moments later touched down and slowed to a 'casual pace' roll.

"Everyone out!" Brake yelled from her co-pilot seat. "We're back in the air in thirty, twenty nine, twenty eight,....."

As soon as the trio of large folks exit the plane, Nutball is out of his restraints and seats, C14 in hand.  Out the door he springs, taking a tactical position that allows him a clear view from the right side of the plane and any thing that might be there in the distance.
22:16, Today: Nutball rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  Perception. 
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

 Much like Nutball, Killian is out and moving within moments of the team hitting the ground, heading for cover and moving into it with his C-12 held at the low ready but explicitly not pointed at anyone. Once he feels more or less secure, he calls out - lacking a radio or any means of detection of his own - "Can anyone hear any radio signals from the town?"

Hawkins bounded out of the plane and then cleared about 30 meters with his next jump placing him a good 50 meters from the end of the vehicle.

"There are a LOT of armed people in that little town. Over 700. No reason not to think they have modern equivalent weapons, or worse."

"Some sort of EM transmission too. No details yet."

He attempted to use his onboard equipment to narrow down what he was picking up.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:16, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

Leaving the transport when her turn came Jen had already secured the decorated helmet slung on the pack.  Rifle clutched to her chest the feline like woman rushed to cover and crouched behind the small rock, it was not the movement of a tactically trained person.

She waited, listening on the radio head set for instructions, sharp vision scanning the area.  Reaching out with her senses for the tell tale signs of electricity within 45 foot of her position.

(OOC 12:01, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 30 using 1d100.  Sense Electricity 55%. Detect and locate electrical devices within 45ft.  Is an activation of a psionic ability, range doubled is within a mile of the nexus point.)

Having anticipated a significantly longer flight Theresa is not even a third of the way through her bag of snacks from the camp when the small plane bounces down on the ground.  Unlike most if not all of the others she doesn't rush out of the plane, instead she casually unhooks her chair's harness with the hand not holding the snacks, stands up carefully from the chair so as to avoid snagging any of the weapon sheaths, holsters, or straps of her various tools of the trade on any of the plane's own dangling bits and strolls out the back with just more than a single second left on the no doubt less than amused co-pilot's count down.

Once on the ground she waits for the nosy machine to get a little distance away from where her traveling companions have gathered before even bothering to try to speak over it.  ”Then we might want to avoid shooting them and pissing them off if we can.  Are any of you particularly good at sneaking around quietly and watching without interfering?”

At Theresa's question, the man in the smiley-faced Gladiator armor turns, dancing a little in excitement.  We can do that!  I'm pretty good at sneaky stuff!  And, well, Frank and Al....

 "Probably not good enough to overcome the fact that they're only eight hundred yards away. And we don't know whether they've got sensitivities. I'd give it a couple of minutes, see if they reach to us first." Killian growls softly, keeping his attention on the town and it's guardians without lifting his rifle - mindful of the fact that they could be watching right back and looking for signs of it.

Whoam of coarse had exited first and was looking in the direction of the town. He didn't look scared but instead thoughtful. He squatted near Theresa as if he was going to whisper something to a child. "I GOOD AT HIDING. THEY CONFUSED NOT ANGRY. WE HELP NOT SCARE THEM. WHAT IF I GO AWAY FROM HERE AND 'YELL HEY YOU LOOK SCARED CAN I HELP?' GOOD PLAN, BE FRIENDS?" He tried very hard to keep his voice down to a whisper but the giant's size conspired against him.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:27, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

In reply to Nutball (msg # 70):

Nutball gave the terrain to the right of the exit door a once over, twice, and noticed the usual; scurrying animals, soundless insects, and moonlit trees and their gloomy shadows. Turning to face the town he perked up at the thought of a daredevil sneak and peek jaunt.

A spectral arm waved before his face breaking the Crazy Man's focus. He turned his slightly to look into the faces of his spiritual companions. They frowned and spoke. In his mind Nutball could hear the words like tiny voices from his shoulders, 'too many, too open, to cautious, they will hot you'.

In reply to Jennifer Long (msg # 73):

Jennifer focused her ability to detect electricity and was immediately shocked by three things. The first was the plane, it gave off no electrical signature though it had lights, batteries, a generator as part of it engine, electrical panels, a radio, and so on.

The second thing she was shocked by was the in-depth electrical emissions she detected coming from Hawkins. Though he was a cyborg, he appeared quite human like. But the electricity she detected from was surprising. She suspected he had quite powerful internal systems for sensing, communications, data analysis, and so on. No mere souped-up soldier there.

The third things that shocked her was the level radiant electrical energy flowing into her area of detection that was obviously coming from the town. It was like the town was broadcasting electricity into the atmosphere or something. It made the the under layer of her fur feel slightly prickly.

In reply to Hawkins (msg # 72):

Hawkins began 'dialing in' his search criteria. Narrowing down the language he overheard to something akin to 1930's era German accented to the National Schooling Program mixed with Afrikaans of the same era but with a definite lack certain Dutch nouns. Or so his translation program told him. Odd, neat in a new mystery sense, but not something to worry over now.

The best translation of what he overhead over the town's radio broadcasts was either that they were experiencing an unusual atmospheric electrical event or that they had lost control of one. Either way, it probably wasn't good. And there was the fact that the random seeming chaos the expedition was witnessing was actually a series of per-arranged drills designed to fine tune some sort of 'beacon' the people running about wore on their belts.

"8..7...6.." As Brake's countdown wound down the plane began to roll forward preparing to take off. Everyone was forced to shuffle forward that had yet to exit the little aircraft.

As the last feet hit the dirt she closed the door behind them and shouted to Nemo that the plane was 'all clear'. The plane suddenly lurched forward and climbed in altitude. Brake dropped into a seat and shoved a lever. Within seconds the seat descended into a globe-like structure that descended down to stick out of the belly of the aircraft several feet. A pair of heavy machine gun barrels slid forth and began tracking onto the town as Brake prepared for any real trouble.

"They're speaking some kind of Germanic language. Translator is having trouble locking it down."

"They are having some kind of emergency. Can't tell if it's an atmospheric event or a technical SNAFU."

"Some interesting tech at work here."


"Definitely need a soft touch with the approach here."

Patient as ever with Whoam's version of stealth Theresa just looks at him when he is done speaking and phrases her response as an opinion, but its tone is far more that of a command despite being so much less loud than the giants whisper that it is almost hard to hear.  ”I think it might be best if you wait here and watch at first, we don't want to startle them any more than they already are.”

Hawkins' update gives her a moment's pause before she offers a suggestion in a very different tone than the one she used on the giant.  ”If you have not already tried the modern dialect of Euro I may be able to pick out some of the meaning if you can reproduce their conversations.”.

"THAT THE RIFT. LANGUAGE DOES NOT STOP WHOAM. NICE NOT JUST WORDS. EVEN IF THEY NOT UNDERSTAND WORDS, I YELL GENTLY, SHOW EMPTY HANDS, SPREAD CLOAK, PUT DOWN MEAT, BECKON EAT. INSIDE WE SAME SO THEY KNOW LOWER WEAPONS AND EAT. MAYBE ONE THEM SPEAKS MURKIN OR GOBBLELY. IF WE SNEAK UP BEHIND THEM WE SCARE THEM."

Jen shuddered a little at the tingling in the fur of her tail, and the hair on the back of her neck raising.  With nearly totally human looks that was about the only furred part of her body, but it was something to sense and feel the unusual amount of electricity in the air.

There seems to be, or has been a massive discharge of electricity in the area, and I'd say that it is from the area of those buildings.  The idea of approaching slowly and weapons lowered or holstered I think is a good one too.  Hey, offering food is a good ice breaker as well.

Slinging her rifle she moved to get a better view on the people, given her visual acuity and range was twice that of a normal person.

And then we can move on to the next adventure together, he says quietly.  They can't do any worse that what I have already been through.  Besides, we pulled crazier stunts in the circus just to entertain the rubes.
Then, his next words sound like he is smiling.  That is an idea.  I could put on a show for them.  Just a quick routine to maybe get them to be friendlier.  This he says aloud as he turns to face the town.  He uses his enhanced vision to get as good a look of what is going on as ge can.

18:27, Today: Nutball rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

 "Or we send one or two people who have translators. We do it in the open, no tricks. They can see us, we can see them. They try to open a dialogue while the rest of us record everything going, maybe send a couple of people to walk the perimeter." Killian suggests, fishing out the hand-held scanning set he was given and moving it around in his off-hand in order to make a start on getting a second set of readings to go with the ones his helmet pack is picking up.

Mei was quick to get out of the aircraft- such as it was- as quickly as she could. Out into the woods in her armor. The craft taking off again behind her. She nods when Killian speaks, pointing two fingers toward the dog. "I wonder if we would be wise..." Mei glanced upward at the giant, "Not to rely only on a single approach? We approach on foot, while others remain in case something should occur? I will whistle if we need help?"

"I would imagine they are fast and coming to us soon."

Even though ge was not particularly close to the Dog-boy and the Japanese woman, Nutball heard what was said anyway.  But I can do all kinds of neat trick.  Backflips, cartwheels, somersaults, juggling, and I can even walk on stilts.  I can't do card tricks or close-up sleight of hand, though.

  Willy moved with deft speed & precision, moving out of the aircraft right on the heels of Hawkins, Princess half a step behind.  He quickly moved to a good position, scanning the surroundings.
  At the mentioned of stealth, he nods meaningfully, "I'm light on my feet when called for, & she's just as quiet" motioning to his four legged companion.  "I can scout the perimeter in just a few minutes.  Not one for pretty words though.  Shall I take a gander 'round, or do you fancy we wait for them?"

Theresa doesn't seem to mind the ideas the others are throwing out, but at some point someone is going to need to do something.  ”Leaving us all in the same place is probably the one thing we don't want to do.  A few of the quiet people should take a look around, and one or two who want to go in more directly and talk to them should do that, someone should probably see about providing them some cover just in case that doesn't go well, and the more intimidating folks should hang back here where they can be seen but won't be taken as hostile as easily.”.

"Hold up a sec. They already know we're here. Unless you can straight up vanish stay close."

"IF you CAN straight up vanish stay in contact. We may need you."

"I think the Big Guy is actually on to something with the friendly approach."

He looked up at Whoam.

"Though, no offense buddy, he is probably not the best pick for the job."

Hawkins took his helmet off and swung the particle rifle onto his back where it snapped on with a magnetic clank.

"I'll approach with Jennifer and Mei. The rest of you hang back a couple of hundred yards, as Theresa suggested, and be ready to pull our asses out of the fire."

He looked from Jennifer to Mei.

"If there is a problem do not hesitate to use me for cover."

"If everyone is good with this we'll start right now."

He began moving, at normal human walking speed with no weapons in his hands, toward the small town in the near distance.

Jen had not inherited the stealthy abilities of her parents, but she was pleasant on the eye when all was said and done and often that could help making friends and calming situation, so with a affirmative nod she moved into step with Hawkins leaving the rifle slung over her shoulder.

Ok, just to note I don't really know any Euro.

As they walked she removed the helmet and made sure to have a close lipped in her smile, some people found the sharp teeth a little disconcerting.

"That's okay. They aren't speaking Euro either."

"What's important is you speak machine."

Sunyi holds up one hand, like he was in school.

"I have the ability to speak and understand all languages. And some experience at mediating. And I'm less easy to hurt than I look. I could go."

He started off after Hawkins. Least he could do was play support.

Hawkins flashes a thumbs up.

  "Sounds like a good plan there, friend.  I'll be sure to keep you fellas in sight, as well as an eye on our surroundings"
  Willy allows the advanced party to gain some ground before following, maintaining visual contact, & keeping a distance of about 150 to 200 meters.  He keeps his head moving, apparently trying to be aware of every direction at once.  He moves surprisingly quietly.
(03:09, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 7 using 1d100.  Detect Ambush @ 45%.)
This message was last edited by the player at 07:12, Sun 02 May 2021.

 "We are really going to need to get them to appoint an officer." Killian murmurs before raising his voice a little and indicating Theresa, looking to attract her attention before suggesting "How about you take a short walk, widdershins. I'll go deosil. We keep our scanners out, don't try to hide and don't get close to the town, just see what we can spot. The rest of us just stick here as a base of fire in case it all goes horribly wrong?"

Turning away from her efforts to calm or at least focus Whoam Theresa nods to Killian briefly before turning her attention back to the Giant. ”I am going to go check on the area over there, but it is important that you stay here, and quiet, unless you want to have to kill lot of scared people.”

As the others start to head into town Theresa turns in the opposite direction from where Killian is headed and begins to stroll through the forest occasionally eating the snacks from her bag that only seemed to be forgotten since she stepped out of the plane, looking like she is just enjoying the scenery without much effort put into either stealth or trying to spy on the town.

As the group of 'ambassadors' approached the town two things happened suddenly. The first was that the running groups of people seemed to finish their manic behavior. They began organizing into teams that took up positions around the town. The military training and order was plain to see.

The second thing was that the large building in the center of the town suddenly lit up. The building was tall and there seemed to be some kind of coil stretched wrapping the structure. As if someone had flipped a switch, the coil began to pulse with a purple luminescence.

Those watching out for the small group from the expedition quickly picked up on movement from the thin wood around the town. Infra-red, night sights, and enhanced vision picked up teams moving into positions to cover the approaching group. Those sensitive to mental powers felt a sudden spike in psychic energies as unseen psions cast their power about.

An exceedingly tall man strode forward. He wore a suit of fitted armor looking like a cross between a gothic full plate and stormtrooper armor. There was an odd looking rifle resembling an assault rifle mated to a drain pipe in his hands. Walking half the distance to the town he met the ambassadors.

"Stop there." The man's helmet amplified voice called to them from ten yards away. He spoke in heavily accented English. "State your business and remain peaceful. I have one thousand sixty-four soldiers prepared to defend out facility."

Hawkins stopped. He showed two empty hands in an ancient sign of peaceful intention.

"Hello. We didn't bring that many but we're not here to fight."

"We mean neither you, nor your facility, any harm."

"We've been hired simply to investigate your appearance."

"If you wouldn't mind some questions it might have us on our way faster."

"I'm happy to answer as many as we ask."

 Nodding, Killian does likewise in the direction he indicated, keeping his rifle in one hand (and his finger off the trigger) with the barrel safely skyward while making something of a show of holding the blinky science-box out and waving it at things as he paces unhurriedly around the outside of the town perimeter, doing his level best to make it obvious to just about anyone that he's not part of some incipient, underhanded assault.

As Nutball follows along, he activates the ancient MP3 player he has connected to his suit.  Quietly, inaudible to his companions, though loud enough to him, he hears the music playing in his helmet.  A song by a band he believes to be named for an arachnid, it is called Rock You Like a Hurricane.
As he walks, the beat becomes infectious, and he begins to move in time with it,eventually starting to dance in place once they have stopped.  Though, he dances rather badly this time.

https://images.app.goo.gl/EhGa2A8Q45FNretP9
03:25, Today: Nutball rolled 83 using 1d100.  Dance @ 45%.

Stopping when told too Jen peered about at the activity and focused on the strange coiled tower.  Lifting her hands to show they were empty she nodded along with Hawkins' words.

Hello. She called out, Yeah we come in peace.  You know to find out what is going on, offer help if it's needed, maybe make some new friends.  Like, do you know where you've come out and where are you coming from?  I'm Jennifer by the way.

Trying to sound cheerful and as always inquisitive.  Lifting a hand to offer the tall man in a gesture of greeting.

(OOC: 10:25, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 94 using 1d100.  Charm 40%.  Oh well, maybe that didn't go too good.)

Whoam sighed doing his best to hide near the drop site, a noble effort though he was still visible. Though stunningly quiet when he wasn't running or talking.

Just for a second there it looked like Sunyi might be useful. But then it turns out they're speaking the same Language everyone else speaks anyway.

He stood to the side, observing what he could seeing if he could see anything that would give him any clues at all.

"I am SS-Obersturmbannführer Utrec Heidlemann. I appreciate your concern but I must ask you to step away from the town at this time." The man said in his accented English.

The buzz of radio feeds began pouring through the radios of the group. It was that same strange Germanic-influenced language. Hawkins automatic systems began to try and decipher what it could of the various radio conversations. The best it could manage was that there were a number of teams preparing to assault something local. Knowing that the stranger was backed by a trained infantry battalion made fighting seem like a poor choice at the moment.

  Willy stops on cue, taking up a position off to one side, somewhere between 150 to 200 meters behind the group he thinks of as the "welcome wagon".  He finds a large rock or tree to post near, in case he needs the cover, making sure he can easily see his teammates & the newcomers.  He then quickly checks the positions of his other teammates.

Marine senses tingling....

Hawkins amplified his own voice and transmitted his response via radio.

"Sure thing Colonel. We will back off."

"One question though. It sure sounds like your dealing with a problem. If it's a local issue we can probably offer some advice on dealing with it."

Perfectly content to keep herself to herself Theresa continues to wander around the outer edge of the town, or chunk of a larger city, munching on the eclectic variety of snacks out of her big brown paper bag, as if nothing could be more normal with the world.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:54, Tue 04 May 2021.

Agreeing with Hawkins, thinking he knows more about this military thing than she does, Jen gives a smile.

Sure we can move back.  Are you doing tests?  What sort of range is going to be best to go back to, and does it involve a large electrical discharge?

Bouncing on her heels a little Jen was still ready to be helpful, as the man had been good enough to give a name and not be overly demanding.

Theresa was munching on a choco-crunchy-coconut-bun when she spotted something odd. A pair of troops were standing in front of her at range of about ten yards but seemed unable to see her. Walking a few steps closer she began to notice a shade or after image in the air between herself and the troops.

There was a flash of lighting in the sky that light the countryside for miles for just an instant. The techno-wizard's little plane bucked sideways suddenly. Hawkins felt a momentary shock as the EMP of the lightening surged through some of his more delicate systems.

Theresa looked up suddenly at the crackling boom of lightning then back at the troops. The space between herself and them suddenly seemed to split open. Then realization hit her like freezing cold water in the face; the rift was opening.

When the lightning occurs, Nutball stops his silly dance and looks up at the sky, then the air shimmering around them.  Um, guys?  I think we might want to move!

Despite not being within hearing range of the others Theresa is already in motion by the time the EMP from the lightning hits running back to the landing site at an impressively fast, but not quite fully supernatural, speed.

As she reaches the edge of the clearing she slows down so as not to spook the locals, but continues to walk at a brisk pace to where the largest group waits.

  Willy responds to the flash of light instantly, his attention snapping in that direction, his enhanced reactions almost causing him to instinctively aim his weapon at the possible threat.  With a visible effort, he keeps his weapon pointed down, but quickly scans his surroundings again, giving extra attention to the area where the lightning originated from.
  Seeing Theresa apparently fleeing that area, his concern only grows.  He is somewhat familiar with such activity, but it still noticeably concerns him.  There's a big difference in having seen a rift or 2, & knowing how to deal with it.
  He then looks to the more knowledgeable members of his team for information & direction, asking over the radio "Was that what I think it was?  Is it as close as it seems?"

Jen jumped at the flash of lightening that washed over her senses and let out a yelp, for a moment the electricity sense was blinded and then dazed with the after images as if suddenly looking at the sun.  A quiver shuddered through her and shutting that sense down mentally bringing up protection against such discharges.  Hastily backing away from the town.

Come on..... lets back up.... that was really close, I hope your grounded well Hawkins... I know I am now.

Jen would not abandon the others that had approached the town, however was very much of a mind that leaving the area might be the best idea.

(OOC: Activate Electricity resistance. Immune to charges under 6000 volts [quoting book, not going to make a comment], lightening, magical electricity, etc. do half damage, 3 minute duration, doubled at nexus points.)
This message was last edited by the player at 08:13, Thu 06 May 2021.

Sunyi watched the goings on with interest. He thought something about this person seemed familiar, reminded him of something he'd learned in his studies... but he couldn't bring it to mind.

When the rift activity started he jumped and looked concerned.

"I don't think anyone should be inside the borders of the anomaly any more. Just in case. If this town disappears back to where it came from, we don't want anyone going with it."

He spoke aloud to whomever was near enough to hear.

OOC Rolled a 00 on my Pre-Rifts Lore. Nazi's? Never heard of 'em.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:54, Thu 06 May 2021.

The lights coming from the tall building in the heart of the town became more intense. The storm increased in activity as well with increased thunder and lightning, a wind strewn light rain began to fall. The clouds darkened and the sound of the toy-like buzzing of the T.K. plane was suddenly lost.

Thirty or so the troops suddenly reacted to some unnoticed signal and began aggressively moving west, their weapons leading the way. There was a roar from within the storm. As if on queue the troops began firing bursts into the low clouds. Their weapons gave off a loud boom and sent a blue-white arc into the skies. It struck many of the expedition team as though the troops were firing some sort of techno-wizard lighting weapons.

The arcs of blue-white beams lanced through the dark clouds, eliciting a roar, and then a red glow shown in the dark masses as bolts of fire answered the troops' attack. The bolts hit the ground and several of the troops. It was devastating to see. Great gouges of earth were blown skyward. Several of the troops were physically knocked to the ground with bits of their armor and gear blown into the night. One troop, unfortunate enough to have taken the full brunt of a bolt of fire, was explosively dissected.

A pair of strange looking beasts looking like a cross between a gargoyle and a giant praying mantis flew out of the clouds. They wore what appeared to old fashioned plate and chain armor and carried long, cannon looking weapons. Behind them the clouds were parting and it appeared that daylight was binging to shine in from the northwest like a sunrise of nearly midnight.

(OOC: I will post a basic map today. Make a decision on how you will react to the contact between the flying creatures and the troops. it is obvious that a rift has opened/ is still opening, in the sky very near to the town. it also seems relatively clear that the event was brought on by the machinery in the town. I will check posts in the morning and decide if more time is needed. there is no need to rush this. I can wait a couple of days for everyone to post, thanks.)

Hawkins heard both and nodded agreement immediately.

"Roger that. Fall back."

He put his helmet back on and started backing away from the town, no longer waiting for an answer from the nazi, but moved slowly enough to keep himself between the conflict and the rest of the contact team.

Not bothering to so much as glance over her shoulder as the rift opens, and the bug gargoyles fly out of it Theresa does change her angle of approach to the clearing a bit when the first soldier gets killed, turning to a path that will draw considerably nearer to him, but not quite there.  At the point of nearest approach she reaches out her hand in his direction and the gun he was using leaps off the ground, flies across the intervening space, and settles gently into that hand in little more than the blink of an eye.  Only then does she return to the clearing and rejoin the others.

”We should give them a few minutes to sort out who is going to survive the initial conflict then go back in and offer to help the winner.”

Screw that!  I say we help them defeat the monsters.  Then maybe they'll be friendlier.  Nutball unslings his C14 and waits to see if anyone else agrees with him.

 The first crack of lightning pins Killians ears flat to his skull and cut off his running report of his extra-sensory impressions into the recording device... The second makes him whimper audibly, the sound lost to distance... But when the actual rift opens and a pulse of energy powerful enough to toss aircraft around goes out he howls in utter agony and hits the ground, dropping his sensor pack and weapon as he claws at his own head, blood dribbling from his ears and nose.

 He... probably isn't going to be contributing much of anything for a bit.

As she hustled back to where the rest of the group were Jen was reasonably quick on her feet, slipping on the helmet as they went staying in the lea of the heavily armoured Hawkins as he had offered to be such protection.  Hearing over the rest of the teams comments over static shot radio Jen added in her thoughts.

I think we should regroup and make sure we are in a defensible place.  Nutball's idea seems good, but there is always the chance that the winged guys are ones we should be helping, no way to tell really.

Killian's howl was the next thing on her mind.

Ummm.... I think the Rift has overloaded the dogboy's supernatural sense... someone quick should go get him and bring him back to the rest of the group.

(OOC: 09:34, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 12 using 1d100.  Lore: Psychics & Psionics 35%.)

The expedition team has moved back from the action as Theresa ran up cradling one of the strange rifles dropped by the downed trooper. In her wake several troopers were charging along. Three troops followed another with a golden emblem on it left shoulder, no doubt an NCO or sorts.

As the pair of creatures circled about it was obvious they intended to strafe at the troops to the west of the town. They took several more hits from the strange rifles, but seemed to shrug off the impacts well. It was hard to tell if they were simply that durable or they were relying on heavier armor.

The flashing light along the central building of the town continued to pulse. A strange feeling of static filled the air, as if everyone was standing in a science exhibit near a Van De Graaf generator.

Killian took several moments, and many metered breaths to sort out the surge of energies washing over his senses. Opening his eyes he blocked out the stimulus. His enhanced senses would not help him now, but at least he could function somewhat normally. As he looked up to get his bearings he spotted Theresa sprinting away from where the new rift had opened, there were troops chasing after her. The flying creatures seemed hell bent flying over the heart of the troops. And it looked as though a small group of troops were approaching him with nets.

Whoam was shocked when the trooper basically exploded in fire. That was no way to kill an opponent. It cruel. It was vicious. Hell, it was just mean. It man him feel a little mean towards the flying creatures in return. Taking a step forward out of reflex Whoam noticed about thirty troops start to jog towards his side of the group. They were carrying their rifles, but many also were carrying nets. That made the giant think of Theresa. She was running with one of the trooper's rifle and other troops running after her. He felt a pang of protectiveness in his chest and took a step in that direction. Then the poor giant thought of the furry children; the kitten was safe in the middle of the expedition but the poor pupboy seemed confused and other troops were moving towards him with nets as well.

Hawkins had to implement an automated system that separated radio transmissions and logged them to a marque that he monitored internally. The voice transmissions came to fast to follow. Hadn't these guys ever thought to use separate bands to communicate on as teams, squads, and platoons! As he watched the fight begin to unfold it seemed that the armor of these troopers seemed weaker than he would have expected, and the same seemed to be said of their firepower. At least for the moment. The flying creatures on the other hand seemed to be something akin a flying tanks from the number of hits they had shrugged off. When Theresa came sprinting there way carrying a fallen troopers rifle, and be chased by a team of troopers to boot, it occurred to him that there may not be an easy way out of this fight.

The level of psychic and magical energies in the region had spiked to levels none of the expedition members had ever known before. Jennifer felt like every single hair on her fur covered body was bristling at the moment. Even the crazier felt it powerfully. Nutballs skull seemed to have a haze of static around it as psychic energy passed from each of his MOM nodes to another. It was like his entire skull was psychically alight.

"You gotta do it, bro, do it now!" Nutball's spectral brother told him. "Save them, save them all. You have to!"

Sidney Tabris felt the surge of mystical energy flow through him. It was surprisingly warm, a delicious feel of comfort and power. It was intoxicating. And enlightening; flashes of a vast, arid plane of towering stone mesas and hundreds of the flying creatures were locked into a battle with forces on the ground he could not see. Then the image was gone. The wind and rain whipped at him but did nothing to disturb the comfortable feeling. He was just sad that the image had passed so quickly.

Book was moving alongside Sunyi, watching keenly as the combat drugs damped his fear and amped up his body. The world became somewhat slow motion. It was like he was moving a split second ahead of it. The rain streaming down slowly. The wind picked up like a wet breeze. His vision sharpened a moment later, the glow from the town took on strobe like effect he had noticed before. Like that of some sort of beacon pulsing in time, like a coded message of sorts. That was really weird, he thought.

Sunyi was feeling the magical energies of the area in very different way. It was both familiar and foreign to him. It felt as though he could just reach out and fly with the creatures from the rift while at the same time the reality of the world he lived seemed to weigh him down subtly. His hair stood out as if charged with static making him feel like was at the center of some sort of battery.

Hideyori Mei took her footing next to Hawkins. She stood alert and ready, watching as events unfolded. She had been through a rift once in her life and the sight before was both vexing and promising to her. Her hands hung in readiness to give life to her sword if need be. The diasho seemed to vibrate at her waist, no doubt supercharged by the level of magical energies in the area.

Jenifer was just becoming accustomed to the feel of her fur when the surge of psychic energy washed over her, she felt like an overcharged battery. She could sense her abilities working far in excess of their normal range. It felt awesome and terrible all at once. A flash of realization hit the mutant feline and she looked at Pyro. The psycher was seemed to be glowing slightly, a pair shimmering orange-red glow illuminated her body and made the Burster look like she was on fire.

Pyro felt like she was born to burn. There was not other way to explain it to herself. Her power was heightened to a level that frightened her a bit but thrilled her to her core. She couldn't wait to try it out.

"I have no intention of helping Nazis or Demons. We aren't being paid to fight either side. I'm not the boss of anyone here but if you engage anyone, or steal from them unprovoked, then you're on your own."

Ummm.... I think the Rift has overloaded the Dogboy's supernatural sense... someone quick should go get him and bring him back to the rest of the group.

"I'll get him. You guys rejoin the group? Or go with if you can keep up."

Lot's of people had exceptional speed in this world and there was often no way to tell.

Hawkins sprinted off, accelerating to around 90mph(145kph), in the direction of Killian. Once he arrived he would make do with simply picking up the big wolf-man and running back to the rest of the team.

Sunyi struck his head with the palm of his hand. "Nazis! That's who they are! All that time spend in school for temporal wizardry and he went and forgot the big one."

He looked over at Mei and said, Japanese, "What's your plan? You staying or going? I can fly us back if need be. But if you want to stay, I'll stand beside you."

Hold on, Al, the Crazy says, lowering is weapon slightly.  I'm not sure what's going on now.  What the hell are they talking about?
Gnatsies?  If a smiley face painted on a helmet could look confused, that would be Nutball right at that moment, as he reaches up to scratch at that same helmet like he could reach an itch through it.  I don't see any tiny, annoying bugs flying around!

 It's a long way short of being that easy, of course.

 Being around a Ley-line's enough to white out Killians supernatural senses, rendering them completely ineffective and giving him something of a brain fog into the bargain, but during an actual Ley-line disturbance? Fat, greasy electrical sparks are dancing through his fur and grounding themselves in spikes of agony anywhere his un-sealed armour permits them egress and the searing pain of the world itself being torn asunder is a constant, jagged, talons-on-a-chalk-board roar that he can't block out and he can't hide from.

 Which naturally enough, means that as folks start coming his way he starts to move to evade in a somewhat staggering run which quickly becomes a full-on lope at close to thirty miles an hour, directly away from the pursuing net-team... And the rift.

Sprinting to join the group as Hawkins split off to get Killian, Jen aimed to get at least a little visual cover from the airborne creatures.  Taking in the area and approaching soldiers with their nets a little snarl touched her voice, the super charging of the flow of power within was disconcerting though and noting Pyro's now visible 'anima'.

Those guys look like they are coming to take prisoners.... and the way Hawkins called them what he did I don't think they are nice, but I'm not so fond of the demon crew either.  My vote is with Hawkins, we leave them to it and come back to see what's left.  Hey Pyro, I feel it too.

The Troopers moving towards the expedition seemed reticent. The various qualities of the group, namely their speed and quick reactions, was making the advancing troops more cautious. These people had evidently dealt with things from a rift before. They moved in good order and as they drew closer began to move in coordinated patterns. It was obvious that these troops were interested in the mutants.

As Theresa sprinted up to the group a Trooped launched a net from a tube like device he has slung at his side. It missed, flying over her head by less than a foot, an struck a sapling. The net immediately wrapped about the thin tree as the weighted corners flopped about. A heartbeat later an electrical shock sparked an singed the bark.

There was roar as the flying creatures flew across the area of the trooper firing their weapons. The return fire from the ground was intense enough to drown out the thunder and lightning with its own strobe-like effects and roaring reports. Fire rained down on the troops sending several more to fiery deaths. One of the flying creatures seemed to slow after is strafing run.

The first of the Troops approached Whoam and seemed to be reading half a dozen off those net launchers from about twenty yards away.

Not bothering to look behind her, or even slow down, until she has closed the remaining distance to Whoam whatever technique Theresa used to grab the gun also collects the net from the tree.  Seeming to animate itself the net follows along then interposes itself between Whoam and the other nets just hovering in the air.”It looks like we are going to need to decide if we want to disengage, or kill these idiots, they aren't going to let us just stand here and watch.”

  Willy Book's head seemed to be almost spinning in place from trying to look in every direction at once.  It looked like he was keeping tabs on the entire team somehow.
  Once he saw that Hawkins could outrun even him, he decided to leave retrieving the DogBoy to the cyborg, keep a post as rearguard, making sure to keep himself between the advancing troopers & the slower members of the group.
  He hadn't fired his weapon yet, but he had it ready, the safety off, finger on the trigger.  The massive muzzle of the grenade launcher wasn't quite pointed at the approaching troops, but it was close.  His dog was still by his side, Princess yipping in response to the noise & commotion, so quiet only Willy could hear her, but she was keeping up so far.
  He could be heard yelling over the din of thunder & gunfire, his accent still obvious:  "Back off, ya varmits, or I'll blast y'all ta pieces!"  He hoped they could understand American, & that they would head his warning.
  Not nearly as loudly, Willy asks the slowest member of the party near him "I know it ain't graceful, but if they get too close, I'm gonna grab & carry ya back, so pay it no mind."
  Over the radio, he calls out to his teammates, "Keep moving back!  It'd be no good if they pin us down!"
  He then seems to notice something, & asks over the radio Is it weird if that techno doohickey thing in town is pulsing, like in a pattern?  It's almost like a beacon or a signal, like a weird Morse Code or something.  It seems really weird to me.  Is that weird, or is that normal?  Can anyone else see that?"

  (if any troopers successfully net a team member, Willy will switch to his sniper rifle & start taking shots at them, aiming for their legs if possible.  if an all out gun fight starts, he'll start lobbing grenades at groups of soldiers)
This message was last edited by the player at 23:39, Mon 10 May 2021.

While trained enough to fight, that was the nature of this world, Jen was not a violent person so was keeping to the middle of the group.  With the troops moving in seeming with a view to take prisoners her thoughts were vocalized for the rest of the group.

I say we fall back, disengage or what ever you call it.  That means if they do mean to keep after us then we draw a team out and as the others are dealing with the flying whatsit thingies there will be less of them for us to deal with.

In answer to Willy's question it doesn't take much thought, I'd need to get hands on to tell you exactly what was up with it... but most machines tend to work on pulses, if it is a signal beacon then again, giving us distance will let us see a larger picture of whats going on.

So they were using shock nets, with her current near immunity to electricity and the wickedly sharp blade of the vibro-bladed gauntlet, Jen was confident that she could deal with that if it came to it.  As yet though moving away seemed the wise tactic, so didn't draw her rifle yet.

Seeing that Killian was up and moving Hawkins circled back to the main group.

"You know maybe if you stopped stealing their shit they would back off. What do you think Theresa?"

He aligned himself in position to screen the enemy.

Cranking up his speakers he barked at the net guys in his best version of their weird German pidgin.

[Weird German pidgin]"Cease attacking us. We are far more powerful than we appear and you have enough enemies at the moment. Back the fuck off!"

Even while talking he kept pace with the team members who were falling back.

 Killian - with the advantage of significantly more stamina than a normal human and the kind of long-legged, distance-eating lope that makes a mockery of marathons - veers around towards where the others are falling back, leading his pursuers a merry chase should they have no means to move faster than they already are, although his evident distress at the ley-storm raging hasn't abated in the least.

Jogging lightly along at a speed that would have once been considered faster than any unaugmented human could ever manage Theresa seems to have no trouble keeping up the discussion of tactics with Hawkins, nor keeping the hovering net in position between her and the largest concentration of other net throwers.  ”Considering how initially hostile they were it is much more likely that they assume we are in league with the other creatures from a dimension that is not their own, perhaps if we were to kill a few of those we could both demonstrate the futility of fighting us, and convince them we have something to offer they want.”

Seeing the netgun-weilding soldiers moving towards Whoam at full speed, Nutball decides to ignore the advice of Al completely.  He springs over one of them to interpose himself between them and the giant and brings up the C14 to sight it in on them as they move closer, sweeping the weapon left to right and back again, his finger alongside the trigger of the grenade launcher.
Nine, doomkoffs.

The advancing troops stopped, nearly in unison, as a senior officer issued orders. Hawkins' radio was quick to sort out the messages and isolated two that had the highest probability of being the orders just issued to the approaching troops. To his utter amazement he, and desire for a full translation their language, it seemed that the orders issued were either 'assume violence formation' or 'prepare for violence of action'. Either way he was sure what was coming next wasn't going to be pleasant.

Hawkins particle beam rifle snapped to his shoulder and a hatch on his back open to reveal a mini-missile launcher that quickly aimed itself at the troops.

"Guns up!"

"Expect an assault."

He continued to keep pace with the withdrawal. Maybe the ersatz Nazis would still let them disengage.

Finally realizing something he should have been doing for a few minutes Hawkins started sending the Nazi's transmissions, the ones he thought were most relevant, directly to Sunyi via laser transmission.

He also started scanning for the officer giving these orders. He may as well be the first to die.

"Willie there is a really aggressive officer out here giving orders that may need to be shot in the ass in about 3 seconds."

Keeping pace to stay in the middle of the group Jen hears Hawkins' warnings and snarls a little, the high of the wash of magical energy about her making every nerve tingle, the raw power almost intoxicating.  Unslinging the energy rifle into hand she set the laser to maximum output, though as energy crackled over her fingers if a target got close enough then they would fry.

Nutball engages his radio.  Anyone ever wonder what would happen if that glowing tower thing they have in there was destroyed?  Maybe it's the cause of all this.

"We're awful close to that thing but if they start shooting at us I don't give a fuck what you blow up. We've been as nice as I'm capable of and if they don't like that then fuck 'em."

The troops near Whoam began firing their nets, but the nets didn't quite cut it. They were initially designed to detain man-sized humanoids and deliver what would have been an electrical shock capable of stunning most people. Whoam was not man-sized, nor was he most people. The nets that hit him most hung on his big body like blankets and shower sparks across his skin making it twitch. A simple shrug sent the nets to the ground.

There was a loud peel of thunder and more lightening. Electronics winked on-off for an instant. The tower began to glow brightly again.

The troops chasing Theresa began aiming for her running back. Those near enough to see had that sudden feeling one gets when a cool glass of beer slips out of your hands unexpectedly; damn, not again!

There was more roaring from the flying creatures, only this time it happened when a rocket streaked up from the ground and impacted with the slower flying, presumably wounded, creature. The explosion was muted, probably a shaped charge for armor penetration, but the thing suddenly veered off course and began falling to the ground.

From the north, a handful of crackling blue-white beams lanced through the night and storm, but missed the members of the expedition. No one doubted that the shots were intentional, and not warning shots.

  Responding to Hawkins' warning, Willy raises his weapon, pointing it at the closest group of soldiers.  He calls back over the radio "I'd be happy to oblige, but I'd appreciated it if you could point them out ta me.  There's an awful lot of ass here to shoot."   He starts scanning the soldiers, paying particular attention to those further back, looking for anyone who looks like they might be in charge.
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(edited/added after re-reading last GM post)
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  Willy saw the energy beams trace through the air, his amplified senses alloying him a longer view of them than most.  Before he even realized it, his finger had already pulled the trigger on his weapon, his heart was pounding, & he felt an intense rush of adrenaline.  In a matter of seconds, four grenades were sent flying.  He started shouting into his radio before the third one left the barrel, "SHOTS FIRED!  RUN FOR COVER!  RUN AND GUN!  TAKE TURNS!"  He almost finished shouting before the rounds found their targets, exploding in a line along the largest concentration of soldiers.  He hadn't seen exactly where the energy bolts had come from, but luckily, grenades weren't picky about accuracy, and he had instinctively aimed in the same direction the attacks had come from.
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(edited/added attack rolls)
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19:43, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 16 using 1d20+5. Grenade Launcher attack roll #4.
19:43, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 20 using 1d20+5. Grenade Launcher attack roll #3.
19:43, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 9 using 1d20+5.  Grenade Launcher attack roll #2.
19:42, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 17 using 1d20+5. Grenade Launcher attack roll #1.
>
This message was last edited by the player at 23:45, Sat 15 May 2021.

 With nothing happening in his general vicinity - perhaps he lost the patrol that was following him - Killian slows down and moves to return to the group, aiming for the back of the team where he can join whatever protective effort is being put together, his ears still pinned flat to his head as he weathers the force of the ley-disruption and the general disruption of his senses keeping him from being able to identify anyone in particular as a problem.

 ---

19:36, Today: Killian rolled 42 using 1d100.  Intelligence (38).

Theresa rushes past the firing line, and ducks down by whatever available cover there is in the immediate proximity, perhaps just lying down in a shallow point in the rolling ground, but more likely behind a tree.

As the first net is fired at the giant, Nutball begins to fire grenades at the closest soldiers.  He pumps out six shots as quickly as he can, but the last one jams inside the tube.


03:21, Today: Nutball rolled 9,6,10,4,2 using 2d6,2d6,2d6,2d6,2d6.  MD to 12'.

03:20, Today: Nutball rolled 2,10,16,8,3,1 using 1d20,1d20,1d20,1d20,1d20,1d20.  Grenade Launcher shots.

With the shots coming in and the shouted instructions from the combatants of the group, Jen did indeed find some cover to duck behind before leveling her rifle and sending a couple of shots down range. Taking care to aim each one of the laser blasts despite the energy crackling through her mind from the mystical activity.  Her superiorly keen vision swept the area for worthwhile targets.

Whats with these guys.... we only wanted to talk

(OOC: thanks for the action and rolls.)

The sudden step-up in violence was not unexpected by the advancing troops. But, they were taken aback by the power of the weapons involved. Their armor, though very practical and well made, simply didn't have the ability to withstand the cumulative effects of many of the attacks. In short order nearly a dozen troops were killed in the brutal fashion so common to modern firepower.

A new set of orders followed on top of the expedition's return fire; the message wasn't clear. Hawkins' translation and extrapolation protocols were unable to figure it out. Most likely the orders were issued using abbreviated language, verbal shorthand for situations like this. The marque scrolled in the lower range of his vision simply stated; Message Incompletely Translate: Assault **** Left Flank **** Indicator or Incinerator **** Position 11 **** 30 Seconds/Minutes ****** Nothing Follows.

The rift echoed the storm loudly. It occurred to the them that it was also storming in the dimension on the other side of the open anomaly. A strange sensation of pull lightly pulled at fell across everyone. As if a child was tugging at their collective shirt-tails. But, the pull was in the direction of the anomaly.

"Fuck it. Kill 'em!"

Hawkins ripped off a burst at the troops, hitting no one, but ripping up real estate by the yard and raining dirt all over them. The Front Yard.

He followed it up with a few individual shots.

Killian was just moving up behind a few of the members of the expedition as the fighting started in front of him. A number of the trooper who had been chasing him were just getting to the area when several were shot and one of them was blown limb from limb. He felt a regrettable pang of responsibility for the death, but it couldn't have been avoided.

A flair of pain flared through his senses, like someone turning on an overly bright light in a completely dark room. It occurred to him that something was happening. Or happening again. There was surge of brightness from the town as the cascading lights on the building began speeding up. The Dogboy had a sense that the rift was about to be manipulated somehow.

An array of rifle fire came their way. Several bolts struck home. Sparks flew, thunder claps rattled the area around the expedition. Hawkins took several shots to the chest and face. Jennifer had a shot strike her full in gut. Book did his best to dodge several bursts but was struck nearly a dozen times. Nutball was ecstatic, delighting in the thrill of the fight even as several shots splashed blue-white lightning into him.

Even Sunyi and Sidney felt the mild impacts of the bolts of crackling energy. The thunder of the impacts was impressive. Sunyi was the first to realize, however, that the bolts didn't really effect them. They splashed harmlessly across the members of the team. They bolts were low powered cnventional attacks that were not capable of penetrating, or even damaging, the dense (mega-damage) materials of the group's armor.

Nets came flying out of the storm. Most were poorly aimed, or deflected off course by the storm, and landed on the ground with dazzling effects. One net struck Whoam across the face, wrapped around his head, and managed to hang there a few seconds before falling the side of his face and dangling from his ear.

Yelping at the hit Jen was surprised at the lack of effectiveness of the shot, her psychic ability easily absorbing the electrical component of the energy weapon and the padded super strong material with it's enhanced thermal dampening properties designed for mitigation of modern weapons fire was more than enough to deal with what remains, she replied fire with a few more shots, trying to take a bit more care to aim for limbs to wound rather than kill.

It was the sensation of drawing and pulling from the anomaly that tickled most at the sensitivity of her mind.  It was building, coupled with the heightened psionic energies she felt there was only one conclusion to draw.

We got to go.  I think it's going to Rift again, maybe take the area with it.  Everyone fall back, or you might be drawn in.

Taking her own advice Jen started to fall back away from the town in good order, the confidence that the armour would absorb incoming fire meant she didn't use cover as much as would usually have been needed, so could move a little faster while putting more fire down range to discourage the troops from following too hard.

Still jogging along far faster than the typical human can run Theresa diverts close to where the grenades shattered the front ranks of the soldiers as she continues fleeing in the general direction of away from the rift.  One of the least damaged lightning guns jumps up off the ground to join it's earlier companion in her other hand as she passes nearby.

(OOC: that's pretty funny. these poor invaders show up and you guys are simply running around like that kid in the Kevin Kostner movie about Frank Hamer.)

 Coming under some sort of external mental influence at the same time that he's running, Killian snarls and - not for the first time - finds it in him to regret the lack of training in mental defence his kind receive, just in time for the Rift energy to hit his senses like a flash-bang, causing him to whine and stagger again as he clutches all the tighter to his sensor pack (never drop issued equipment) as he calls "I think something's trying to get into my head... And look out, the Rift's about to flare!"

 Meanwhile, as someone wearing entirely non environmental armour, with an exposed face and gaps at his joints, the Dog Boy keeps ducking for cover as best he can, rather than risk a direct strike from the incoming lightning weapons.

  It seemed as though Willy didn't even notice the weapon impacts on his armor, as he continued to lob grenades at the enemy forces.  If anyone could see his face lit by the flashing explosions, they would notice his eyes wide open, his mouth a massive grin, seemingly lost in the excitement of combat.
  Despite his apparent battle zeal, Willy still called out in response to the warnings from the psychic members of the party, his eyes fixed on the enemy:
"Ain't there a tree line behind us?  Make a run for it, us big guns will be right behind y'all." 
  His head could barely be seen moving as he glanced to both sides, tracking his teammates as they withdrew, maintaining his position as a rear guard.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:01, Wed 19 May 2021.

Unphased by the lightning strikes and weapons, despite his lack of armour, Sunyi starts running. He's not the fastest runner, so he shot a few covering blasts from his energy pistol he ran.

Hawkins continued to fire into the Nazi gunline as the group fell back.

He watched bemused as the Theresa flip flopped between coward and kleptomaniac.

"Any idea if we're going to be able to get clear of the effect?"

Following Willy's directions Jen made a break for the tree line.  While not among the fastest in the group, she was a fair sprinter covered the distance quickly.  When at that cover she planned to turn kneel and give covering fire to others, mindful that if the opposing force saw that their weapons were of no use then they might roll out something heavier.

But she did rattle out a reply to Hawkins, I have no idea, if it was made by that tower then I'd have to get my hands on the machinery to found out that sort of thing.

There was a flash ahead of the party. The energy cycling in the town became a white fuzz to eyes, sensors, etc. It's EM registry was off the charts. A wave of energy washed over the group with such force is was felt physically like a strong breeze.

There was a popping noise. Those people with functioning ears felt it in their eardrums like rising into higher altitudes. Static curled hair, fur, and micro-filaments alike. A sudden whooshing accompanied the popping. The rift had closed, taking the town, the troops, a yard of topsoil from the entire area (trees and all), the clouds, the flying creatures, and the very air.

Rift vacuum, the effect of a piece of the world being sucked away leaving a vacant spot in the atmosphere, and it had the group. They slid uncontrollably towards the edge of the closing rift. Caught the static filled slipstream of coalescing energies.

With a feeling of weightlessness and motion it happened. Book, Hawkins, Long, Killian, and Theresa were suddenly without air, wrapped in darkness, and bitter cold fringed them in frost. A heartbeat later they were falling through hot damp air to land spattering in fetid mud and stinking water. Green scum and dingy gray mud coated them. It stank of decay.

The sun shinning to their right. Chronos and internal clocks all read 06:43 AM, the next morning. North was straight ahead according to internal compasses and simple logic if the sun was to their right. There were general aches and pains, but not serious injuries.

In the distance they could hear the roars of large animals. Some sounded frightened, other sounded intimidating. All of them sounded out of place for the mountains they had just rifted from. About forty yards to their north was a small camp.

The camp had several small tents, one larger tent, and a few lean-tos. To anyone who had ever been on campaign, on the hunt, or simply traveling the wilds this was hunters camp. A small fire was heating several coffee pots and long slivers of meat roasted about its edges. A pot of something was dropped into the dirt to one side of the fire while skillet of something else had been dropped to the other. A cooler stood open near the fire. One of the tents had been partially pulled down. Clothing littered the ground. Several crates and footlockers rested around the tents and large scaly hides were hung in stretch hoops from surround tree limbs.

The hunters had fled bed and breakfast in a hurry. Probably, and rightly, running from the opening rift that dropped the party near on top of the camp. Only on person remained. Shrouded in the shadows of a tent, sitting in folding chair, and holding a steaming cup of morning coffee despite the already drowning humidity and oppressive heat.

 "Break right, I'll break left... Ley-lightning goes for Dog Boys at double the ra..." Killian starts to shout, jinking away from the group and back towards the tree-line as he slings the science pack he's carrying in one hand, trying to lead the inevitable discharge off to the side rather than straight into their midst just as everything in his world becomes sheer, white-out agony.

 When he hits their new location, it's in a face-down 'splat' that sees him basically land in a pool of fetid mud and not haul himself out of it until he starts to actively drown - and even then, he only does so with the uncomfortable reluctance of someone who sees that drowning as taking too long, rather than because dying there isn't looking like the better option than continuing to occupy his skull for the next few minutes.

"Well...damn."

To the very astute it looked for a moment like Theresa wasn't being pulled in by the vortex of air like the others were, but only for a moment, as she quickly caught up to their position and stayed with them as they were caught in the edge of the rift, falling through just as if nothing unusual had happened.

Landing not on her face, but feet first she almost doesn't splash into the mud but rather settles into it gently enough to sink in but not splash herself.  Taking note of the single hunter in the camp she speaks to the others.  ”Don't all go charging in just yet, I am going to go ask him if we can join him at his fire, perhaps trade for some information.”  Without much delay she starts walking through the mud with an almost hopping like high step that should be much more difficult than she makes it look to ask just that.

Jen fell as the vacuum began to pull her in.  Scrabbling at the ground to find a hand hold she cried out in panic, franticly clawing at the earth to find purchase and cling on.  The draw of was too great and leaving clawed furrows in the ground the Rift took her along with the others a scream coming to her throat.

Disorientated and spat out of the dimensional rip the landing was an ungraceful splat in the mire, the fore thought of having sealed on her helmet did mean there was no time breathing in the muck.  Jen lay there for some time as the world whirled about in her head.  Gradually things started to right themselves and existence returned to the vague normality of the times, groaning and slowly levering herself to her hands and kneels Jen shook her head and started to look around.

Is..... is everyone ok?  Are we all here? A sudden panic, scrabbling at the helmet to push it off before hurling chunks into the semi liquid mud of their arrival, ...oh the heavens....

Hawkins gently pulled Jennifer to her feet and then skipped forward far enough to be in front of Theresa.

"Hold up Lightbulb...er Theresa. I live here."

He gestured around at the marsh.

"We're in Dinosaur Swamp. I speak local. Let me approach the guy."

Nutball had begun running towards enemy "town", intending to attack and destroy the "lightning tower".  However, when the air began to do its little dance of electromagnetic energy, he followed the advice of both Frank and Al.  He ran.
When the pop and flash occur, he feels himself flung into the air.  The first thought, followed by the appropriate voice command for his armor's systems, is, Button Up.  The armor seals, cutting off air from the outside, to begin using the air stored in the built-in air tank.
The sensation of being nowhere lasts for just a moment, and forever, at the same time.  Feeling himself tumbling through nothingness, he nearly loses his Firebreather.  But, he is not only able to retain it, he somehow is able to slip his head and arm into the sling so he does not lose it.  If anyone were there with him, they might hear him squealing with delight.  WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE....!
The splash down occurs behind the others as they are discussing the encampment, the swamp water exploding upward as if one very large body had hit, or more than one average sized body.  When it clears, Nutball can be seen kneeling on one knee with a hand in the gooey water, but somehow otherwise untouched by the muck.  He looks up with his smiley-face visored helmet, and says through the speakers, And THAT'S how you stick the Hero's Landing!
He stands up, shaking muck from his wet glove and vambrace, then looks to either side.  One could almost see the grimace that must be on his face as he says, Oh.  You guys really need to practice.  He leans down and reaches out a hand to either side as though he is helping a couple of people up.  There is splashing, then he stands as if pulling someone up with him.  Muck seems to drip from around his hands.  For a few moments, it seems like he is helping two invisible figures brush goo and detritus from their bodies.
Finally, he looks at his companions.  Now, that was a fun ride!  Oh.  We found campers?

Does he stick the Hero's Landing!  Oh, Yes.  Yes, He Does.
17:20, Today: Nutball rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Roll with Punch/Fall/Impact @ 12+.

Armen had been sitting and taking his ease. He'd been knocking around in the Dinosaur Swamp for a few months now, just wandering and taking in the sights. When the rift opened, and the other villagers headed for the hills, he fairly calmly put down his coffee and stood and walked over to them.

"Well," he said, looking over the strange company, "You're not the strangest thing I've seen since I came here. But you're top ten anyway. Is everyone okay? Anyone in need of medical attention? I bet the Dog Boy's head is just splitting. Come over by the fire if you like. There's fresh coffee and some cured meat."

A pause.

"I, uh, wouldn't ask too many questions about where the meat came from though.

He walked back toward his fire and his stuff, waving them on. He started poking around for extra plates and cups.

"My name is Armenjaad. Just Armen is fine. What were you all up to before... uh... before now?"

"Falling mostly."

It is difficult to tell if Theresa is more offended by the assumption that she shouldn't be the one to engage with the single person first, the assessment that they are only the top ten weirdest thing, or Hawkins' utter failure to make any kind of actual effort, but for whatever reason she steps around him to speak directly to the man who stayed in the camp.  ”We were exploring, by the looks of it somewhat farther north, but otherwise not unlike yourself.
 I believe we would be glad to accept your hospitality and I for one would like to know where you get meat from around here.”

As Nutball walks over to join the others, he opens his smiley-faced visor.  Beneath, the white stretch mask he wears bears the black shape of the Greek Tragedy mask, though it seems to more grimace in disgust than is sorrow.  He seems to splash little in the muck, though there seems to be a pretty obvious wake splashing up behind him.  Whew-weeee.  Someone really needs to flush around here.
He stops near the others, looking around the campsite, when Hawkins, then Theresa speaks.  I had just killed a bunch of Gnatsies, and was going after more.  Frankly, he snickers slightly, I think they looked less like tiny, annoying, flying insects, and more like armored people.  White, with predominantly blonde hair and blue eyes, from what I could tell.

Armen looked from person to person, trying to keep up. To the taciturn robot he replied, "Yeah. I been there. The best thing you can say about where you landed is that it's rarely boring."

He laughed slightly at the twitchy dude with the weird mask. "I, uh, think gnats are pretty much always little flying insects. I've never met an anthropomorphic armoured gnat. Or one with hair or, visible eyes, really."

To the woman he nodded and smiled. "Almost everywhere in North America is farther north than here. But whatever brought you here looked big. And you all look ready for trouble. Don't tell me any secrets, but I have to admit I am curious."

And to her question about the meat.

"Well.... this place is called the Dinosaur Swamp. And, near as I can work out, you can't eat swamp. So...."

 'Splitting' is a fairly accurate descriptor, when you get down to it... The flip-side of their sensitivity to magical energy being that there's just not a lot of buffering between world and brain when it comes to ambient magic, and passing through a ley-storm?

 There's not meant to be any nerve endings inside a brain, but the ones Killian doesn't have are sending jagged spikes of nauseating agony into his skull every time he moves... So of course he drags his muddy, aching form to his feet largely by force of will and pretty much immediately checks his rifle to ensure that the lasing array's clean and unimpeded by mud (because dumping most of thirty megajoules into anything near your body is a good way to get steam-cleaned) before looking around, manfully - or wolf-fully - stifling a whimper.

The morning is rapidly becoming unsuitably warm, the humidity rose to equal the morning's heat. Insects began buzzing about. Especially the mosquitoes that found the lure of exposed flesh to be far too alluring to pass by.

The place was known to all by reputation, legend, or holo-vision docudramas. But, to those sensitive to the psychic and magical realms the Dinosaur Swamp had unique feel. Part warm, cozy waves of energy and part edgy, claustrophobic haze. Known for unusual magical activity and fearsome giant sauroids, the swamp was thrilling to many, especially to Nutball. And his companion spirits, whom enjoyed splashing about sending cascades of swamp water all over him, even dripping from his chin, despite the fact no one else could see them.

Jennifer and Killian could detect all manner of things; the smells of animals, the sounds of life in the swamp, the subtle underlying psychic energies, and something odd. A blind spot nearby. It a soft sensation, like curtain hiding a light source. To the east, close, and getting closer.

Book found the swamp intriguing as scout, daunting as a hunter, and a whole new challenge as a juicer. Theresa could feel the underlying currents of energy here, but the new terrain was both curious and unexpectedly alive with so many lifeforms.

Hawkins looked around, gave his map software a little time to spool up. It was terrain he hadn't mapped. But his altimeter gave him clues to the altitude of the area, his compass helped to determine appropriate orientation to longitude and latitude, but it was his radio tracking known frequencies and ranging transmission sources that allowed him to fix their position. Mid state along the old Georgia-Alabama state line.

To Armen the newcomers were just the usual board of fare of adventurers, exiles, treasure hunters, and thrill seekers he commonly met in the swamps. Even if their mode of transportation was a bit unusual. He wondered how long it would take the other hunters to come back to camp.

Hawkins appeared thoughtful for a minute and then sort of jumped back into the conversation.

"We mostly moved East actually."

"Nazis are people. Bad people. Not bugs. They got stomped out a long time ago on this Earth but apparently not on all of them. Rift brought some of them here."

"Killian I've got pain killers if you need them. Opiates and Grunt Vitamins."

He looked off to the north and then continued.

"We definitely would appreciate your hospitality for a short time Armen."

"If we head north/north west from here we can get to Golden Age Weaponsmiths fairly quickly. We can get a ride there that will get us back out west."

"Oh and Dinosaur meat ain't bad at all if the cook knows what's up."

"I got a couple of decent recipes from Pennant and Gran."

Thanks Hawkins. Jen had said as the borg assisted her to her feet before he moved off.  It took a few moments to catch bearings and clear the mind, refocus on the here and now.  As the atmosphere started to become humid and hot, with insects starting to buzz Jen activated the temperature control of the armour to be more comfortable.  The offer of food and a fire that would help keep the insects away was a welcome one so, sloshing out of the water to the drying parts of the camp she stepped forward to introduce herself to the new friend.

Hi Armen, and thanks for the offer.  I'm Jen, so pleased to meet you.  And never had dino meat, but hear it's ok.

She offered a bright smile and then paused.

Umm....Don't know if it's something you know about, but I sense a....a nothing like that away.... seems to be getting closer...it's like a patch of something hiding the flow of energies about it...

Armen was quite pleased they accepted his offer. He liked company. The stranger and more unusual, the better.

"If you have some recipes," he said to the Borg, "By all means have at it. I don't have much of a palette. My people can eat almost literally anything, so I'm not very picky about taste."

He smiled at Jennifer.

"I'm pleased to meet you too. You seem... feline? In aspect? Is that a rude question?"

And then he frowned at her news.

"That's a new one on me. But anyone trying to hide themselves here seems like bad news. No one hides from the dinosaurs. So it's us they're hiding from. Can you tell how far away? And how long till it gets here?"

 Dogs and wolves don't sweat... They shed heat through panting. Humans sweat, but don't have fur to soak it up. Dog Boys have the worst of both worlds, and the transition some twelve hundred miles to the south isn't made any easier by his thick fur coat, grown for northern mountain country.

 Staggering a little, his mouth open to try and shed some heat and his head still aching he orients himself eastwards and clicks twice, before wincing and shaking his head, "Soft spot, not too far away and coming closer. Can't... can't quite work out distance yet, everything in my head's sort of raw right now.", glancing over at Hawkins and giving a small shake of his head, "It'll settle out, and painkillers dull my senses. Thank you."

There was a pulse, slight but definite. Those sensitive such energies had the impression that someone has cast a spell. The soft feel of the blind spot suddenly hardened with what felt like the hard energies used in offensive spells. But, in an instant it was gone, the soft feel returned. Maybe someone had charged up a techno-wizardry device.

In the distance to the north and northeast figures could be seen loping through the much heading towards the camp. The hunters were finally returning. Most of them were muck covered and half dressed. Most didn't have the boots on.

Quit that!  That smell will take weeks to get out of my helmet!  Nutball is wiping at the muck that has gotten on his mask, trying to keep it from seeping into his armor.
When he steps up to Armen, he shakes muck from his hand to extend it in a friendly shake.  The name's Nutball, but my friends call me Nutball.  he then indicates nobody to either side of him.  Wait... Are those impressions of feet in the muck beside him?  These are my sister and my brother, Frank and Al.  Don't worry.  You'll never see them.
Suddenly, he looks up to see the returning hunters, his ears having picked up their movements through the swamp as they got closer.  I'm guessing those are your friends coming back....

Armen smiles at the greeting. "So, can I call you Nutball, then?"

He gestures back toward the village. "Are you good at seeing invisible things? I've got an invisible friend around here somewhere. And a visible one. If you see a confused, angry little ghost or an ugly little guy with big ears. That's them."

He looked to see the hunters returning, not looking like they've had a good day. "Yeah," he says to Nutball, "Looks like it."

He addresses the group, "Well, my interesting new friends, it looks like I need to go see what's happening. Anyone interested in coming with me? It's probably dangerous, but it'll probably be interesting too."

He then puts his fingers to his lips and emits a high pitched whistle and from some trees nearby comes a small bird of prey. As it approaches, it reveals itself to be made of living mechanical silver. It lands on his shoulder. He flips it a coin, which it catches in its beak and eats.

"My familiar, Egret," Armen says.

  Willy wasn't sure if he was the first or last to get pulled into the Rift, but on the other side, he knew he must have been the last to land.  He had a brief glimpse of the others on the ground before he hit the mud.  It wasn't his best landing, either.
  Immediately upon landing, his head snapped up, looking in all direction.  Seeing the others doing "mostly" better than him, or at least already out of the muck, taking care of each other already, and not detecting any threat, he began to calm down.  Almost immediately, he could feel the "crash", as his built in bio-comp & harness stopped feeding drugs to his body.  He went from feeling like a demi-god to (in comparison) an old man, and as always, he hated it.  He seemed to move slower than usual for a few minutes, as he once again got accustomed to feeling "only human" (not really, just what it feels like to him).
  He spent some time checking Princess over for injuries, muttering to her under his breath "Easy girl.  Tell me where it hurts."  After finding she had suffered no injuries, only muck, he began inspecting their gear, starting with hers, still whispering to her.   "Dang dagnabbit!  This'll take fer-ever an' a day to clean out!  What is this crud, anyways?!"
  Once he had himself & Princess sorted out, he stood up, looking around.  "I ain't never been in a swamp befores.  Ain't they's got dinos round these parts?  I wonder if they has honkers.  Honkers is good eatin'."  He indeed found his new suroundings intriguing, & a part of him was eager for this new experience & challenge.  "Pity we couldn't finish the last adventure first."  He thought outloud to nobody in particular.
  He quickly looked the camp & its occupant over, & began to walk over, listening to everyone while doing so.  He stopped at the mention of the presence to the East, looking in the indicated direction.  "Can't see far in these parts, eh?  Dang troublesome."
  At Armen's invitation to investigate the unknown phenomenon, Willy seemed to perk up, taking a step closer & finally speaking.  "I could fancy a look around.  Hope you don't mind dogs.  Princess here goes everywhere with me."   He smiles while scratching his dog behind her ears with his left hand, then offers his right for a polite shake.  "Pleased ta meet'cha.  I'm Douglas Book, but everyone calls me Willy."
This message was last updated by the player at 06:23, Sat 22 May 2021.

 "Spellcasting! Transitory, not durational." Killian reports as he goes to one knee and brings his rifle up to a 'ready' position, angled slightly down so as not to risk accidentally shooting anyone he doesn't mean to shoot.

Jen offered a smile and gave a slight shake of the head to Armen.

Umm, I don't think it's rude, I mean there are lots of different people all over.  My parents say that we are Leopardoids, though in my town we were the only ones and they said they came to the town running away from their home.  Never got the full story.

Looking at the others gathering she frowned some at the number of people who were missing from the group, and hoped that they had landed safely.  For now there were other things on the horizon.

I can only get a very vague sense of overt psychic impressions. Nodding towards Killian who then gave more detailed information.

The mechanical bird though suddenly gathered up attention then.  Wide eyed Jen peered at it and with a little sigh.

Yeah I'll come see whats going on..... but I would like to meet you friend there when I can.

Despite having stuffed one of the strips of meat from near the fire directly into her mouth Theresa doesn't seem to notice that it could be a bit on the hot side, picking up several more as she finishes chewing the first one she leaves about half of them behind as she turns away from the coffee without touching it to join Armen in his exploration.

”I doubt it will do any of us any good to sit around here, if we need to find a way out of this swamp this clearly isn't it.”

"Is it coming from that group coming in or something else?"

(OOC: Approximately 200 yards due east there is a flare of energy. for those specifically capable of sensing the flow of magical energies several things could be sensed; the presence of a magic hiding the aura of a source of magic/PPE, a sort of blank spot sort of like a weak return on a sensor - there is something there but there isn't enough info to discern specifics, and the use of such magic is indicative of intense training and power.
   For those of you who will be relying on technology and enhanced natural senses the range is too far to see through with eyes or optics due to the amount of clutter from intervening terrain, trees, bushes, animals, etc. But with selective hearing, natural or electronic, you could discern the rhythm of someone walking steadily through the swamp towards the camp at 3 miles per hour of so. That puts the individual about two half minutes away. IR and thermal are equally hindered due to the same problem with intervening swamp.
   Those of you with a nose or similar scientifical capanilitudes (yep, i'm all sciencified) you will be able to pick up a unique scent of powerful antiseptics, similar to those used to create the most refined alchemical concoctions.
   If you are capable of sensing life forms, life in general, or powerful emotional states what you pick up in is a small ocean of life forces, fear, excitement, curiosity, and hatred. In particular is a spot of intense curiosity and excitement that feels like the type of emotional lust experienced by a top predator or ultra-competitive athlete.
   The bottom line is that something is coming, it is powerful magically, and likely well equipped magically, it is moving with steady speed though the swamp straight for the camp. It seemed primed for a confrontation and likely can handle itself well in a confrontation since it is moving in using magical stealth and the swamp to conceal itself. All in all, get ready for a tough fight.
  Also, it shouldn't strike anyone as odd that this is occurring right after the open and closing of a rift in the area.)

The hunters filtered in closer to the camp. They were cautious and trying to get a look at the new comers. Most likely they were simply trying to ascertain if the party members were indeed normal people who traveled through a rift or some sort of hyper dangerous DB.

 "Three o'clock, two hundred meters and closing. Muted scent, it's trying to hide... Smells like an angry hospital bed." Killian reports, racking the charging handle on his rifle to shunt power from the E-clip to the capacitors with a soft whining sound.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:42, Sun 23 May 2021.

Of course you can, Nutball replies to Armen, paykng little attention to the mechanicñ.  As for invisible things, Frank and Al are the only invisible anything I can see.
He turns to catch Willie's, and Princees, too, descent and landing.  Ooooh.  That one's about a three.  Ya hotta work on bending the knees.....
He turns back to the returning hunters, watching them as he listens.  Whoever it is that's coming is a coupla hundred yards out, smells of antisceptic, and is coming at a steady pace.  Be hears i  a coupla minutes.
  Yep.  The Dogboy is right.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:52, Sun 23 May 2021.

"Willy, Armen, hang out a sec and the mystery will come to us."

Hawkins moved up alongside Killian and shouldered the big German particle rifle.

"I got the scent but there's too much clutter to see shit yet."

  In response to Killian & Hawkins quickly forming the start of what could be called a defensive firing line, Willy gave a signal to Princess, then moved.  He positioned himself close & abreast to the cyborg & dog boy, using any natural cover he could find, a few paces to one side.  He quickly scanned in every direction, then focused on the East.  With the terrain foliage restricting line of sight & range, he pulled his rifle from where it was slung on his back, checking & preparing it quickly.
  Preparations complete, he nodded to his comrades.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:35, Sat 29 May 2021.

Taking the strips of meat she salvaged with her Theresa runs over to one of the trees at the far side of the village and grabs one of the lower hanging branches to swing herself up into it even as she stuffs the last meat strip into her mouth.  Once up in the tree she lies down on a large branch and readies the archaic looking flintlock rifle she carries around with her, pointing it in the direction of the approaching hidden magic.

Looking around at the area Jen has a quick think.  Rather than join the firing line she instead makes her way towards the hunters that are returning to the little encampment to let them know what is happening and to either get their help or get non combatants to safety.  To her it seemed the best thing to do as her armour was light and the range of her rifle was significant, she could add fire from a long distance effectively.

There is a gradual increase in the pace, and animals in the area begin running away from the approaching noise. It sounds like something bug and heavy running through the swamp. But, no dinosaurs of any size are in the area.

As everyone begins to filter about the camp in anticipation of what is approaching there is a roaring laugh as what looks like a Mountain Giant in some sort of bio-magical armor runs out into the edge of the camp area. He is massive, easily ten feet tall and nearly half as wide in the chest. There are strange symbols on his armor.

(OOC: with appropriate magical research/study backgrounds make a skill or language roll you feel is appropriate to try and discern the symbols.)

He is wielding an awkward looking staff that he suddenly points into the camp. The staff is at least twelve feet in length with a lozenge shaped, metal orb at its end. The orb splits open revealing a glowing inner power and then there is a flash of red-orange light as bolt is cast fired into the camp.

(OOC: everyone but Theresa and Jennifer need to make a balance check, base 35% without applicable skills, to stay on their feet. This guy is moving like a freight train with a rocket up its ass right now - obviously some sort of magical or alchemical enhancement. everyone with take 10 MD to their armor's main body as well. Congratulations, the GM just hit you more plot devices evil stuff.)

Aside from moving at a insane speed for such a large creature, the giant seems to be blurry as if his outline was faded somehow. It makes it hard to determine his exact location for pinpoint accuracy (i.e. called shots are at triple the normal penalty to hit) and there is a visible aura about his, like some sort of defensive screen.

(OOC: if you didn't make a roll to discern something about the magic in play earlier you can roll to get an idea of some of the magic it using here. just be specific on what you are rolling for - understand the symbols or understand the spells)

The giant looks fuzzy on electronics as well. He is completely invisible to IR or thermal electronics. It was puzzling to say the least.

(OCC: take a moment to think and then post on what you are about to do. You guys are within range of shouts of each other, and you have radios as well. Make a plan if you like and then post your parts of it. I will give everyone time to post an action or really short sequence. don't go crazy, think of this as the first actions/attacks of a round. we will try to play it out as much as we can without having to use strict combat rules. just remember to share the stage with one another.)

 Killian brings his gun up smoothly as the giant moves into clear line of sight, his rifle tracking the enormous figure as he shouts "Hostile, hostile, hos...", before the word even leave his jaws already pulling the trigger to unleash the characteristic hiss-snap of laser fire in atmosphere, walking his short burst through the visual disruption of the attacker...

 ...just before he's sent pinwheeling into the undergrowth by whatever the hell it was that the plunging creature just did to the clearing, a movement he continues as he dives for cover in the wake of the blast.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:57, Tue 25 May 2021.

Already zeroed in on the approaching target before it breaches the clearing Theresa's musket unleashes what is quite obviously a magical firebolt, more akin to super heated plasma than normal fire at the power level it is set to, but it still has the distinctive contained projectile until impact feel of what can only be magic.  Blasting the giant right in the chest the rifle doesn't even kick when it does its thing.

Tiny jets fired along Hawkins back to keep him upright and he zeroed the giant with his particle beam rifle and fired.

"Well he doesn't seem interested in parley."

As the sound of a charging whatever-the-hell-it-is continues towards them, Nutball points his C14 in its direction, pumping a grenade into the chamber and sends it dow range in that direction.
Hoqever, he does not have the chance to fire another, as the creature charges from the vegetation-line and fires off an attack at them all.
With a split second in advance of a warning, Nutball attempts a short series of handsprings and backward somersaults, trying to ride the concussive force of the blast and avoid the full brunt of it.

21:08, Today: Secret Roll: Nutball rolled 6 using 2d6.  Grenade mega-damage.

21:07, Today: Secret Roll: Nutball rolled 19 using 1d20+5.  Roll with Punch/Fall/Impact @ 12+.

21:07, Today: Secret Roll: Nutball rolled 2 using 1d20.  Grenade Launcher.

Still running to intercept the approaching hunters Jen waved and shouted.

Get to cover.... we're being attacked...

The explosion went off behind her and she cringed spinning around to see the creature.  Swearing self and finding a boulder or something to take cover behind of, if only to give a bit of concealment from sight, Jen swung the JA-11 energy rifle around to aim at the creatures then started to fire using the maximum setting and the superior range (Up to 4000ft) of the weapons, the noise making system usually attached to laser weapons had been removed so it was near silent.  Instincts of a stealth predator still hung around in the hind brain.

(OOC:09:38, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Aimed strike.
09:39, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 16 using 4d6.  Laser damage.)

(OOC: great job guys, i will give Armen and Book until this evening, then I will post. Not excluding them, just keeping the scene flowing and fresh.)

The blast of mystical energy from the staff was powerful. Bolt struck the ground and seemed to explode sending out a powerful wave force.

Hawkins was slammed back forcing him to step backward into a lunging position to stay upright. It was an automatic response as his systems merely tried to keep his body in the proper orientation. Still, his massive weight was slid backward several yards cutting a shallow ditch in his wake.

Killian was pitched into the low hanging limbs of an old Cyprus tree. He clung to the Spanish Moss and limbs as best he could to slow his passage. Managing to hang onto his rifle as he did so. Killian fell back to the ground awkwardly and landed hard on his side in the much. Again. He was up, his combat shaped instincts kicking, as he fought to calm his breathing and seek out cover.


Nutball was sent hurtling along. His flips, vaults, and somersaults were exagerated by the blast sending him far further back from the point of impact than he could have covered on his own. He maintained control of his weapon, but only barely so, as he came to a skidding halt on one foot and one knee.

Theresa was lifted, like a balloon in a hurricane wind, and sent sailing along. A moments effort and some mid-air acrobatics, she was able to orient herself to land better than she would have expected; on her ass in the muck.

Jennifer had warned the returning hunters off, but when the blast lifted muck and mud in the camp they turned and ran off again. Turning to the attacker and firing, Jennifer was surprised at the attacks made by the others even as the magical blast slammed them about. She could see sparks, debris, or coatings fly off their armor and equipment. It wasn't just a matter of knocking the party around, that blast was dangerous.

Blasts struck the Giant and the area around it. Trees were shattered. Mud boiled. Chips and pieces flew out of the Giant's armor in a dazzling array of sparks and clatter. It was staggered for moment, nearly falling over, before it caught itself with a back-step that lift the business end of the staff skyward.

As the party members fought the wave of force, and getting knocked around in the process, the giant turned its weapon on the group again. This time an arc a dazzling lightning lashed out away from the staff. The air crackled with passage.

(OOC: make dodge rolls vs. a 15 or take the hit. result of the hit will vary by person. rolling with the punch will not decrease the effect of being hit by this attack. he waving the staff along, as if walking the lighting around trying to lash onto everyone. only the hunters who ran off are out of its reach)

Still on a knee, Nutball takes aim, not at their attacker, but at the staff weapon he holds, hoping to put a grenade right into its open mouth.
When the energy comes his way, he springs to his feet, somersaulting away from the blast to land not dar from where he had been.

22:00, Today: Nutball rolled 20 using 1d20+7.  Dodge using Backflip/Somersault.

21:59, Today: Nutball rolled 9 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

21:58, Today: Nutball rolled 9 using 2d6.  Critical *2 MD. 18 MD to 20'

21:57, Today: Nutball rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  Aimed grenade launcher shot. 

Flung through the air more like a ragdoll than anything else, for those few who have any idea what such a thing could even be in this dark era, Theresa lands in the muck just at the edge of the lightning field.  Jumping back out of range of the burst of energy causes her own shot to go wide, burning a small dry spot in the muck a dozen or more feet away from the giant.

23:31, Today: Hawkins rolled 22 using 1d20+13.  Dodge.

The initial blast caught Armen unawares and he fell to the ground in a muddy, undignified heap. Stuck as he was, in the mud, he was unable to successfully avoid the blast of energy that followed.

Wincing in pain, and seeing this mysterious creature running rampant over his little plot of swamp, he stood up and in a single smooth sinuous motion his body transformed into a tiny bird and he took to the air.

He had to get close to do what he wanted to do, but hopefully in this form he would blend in with the background enough not to register as a threat.

He flew up in a widening spiral and then got as close to the giant as he could and tried to discern something of what it was thinking.

OOC: Activate Telepathy, just to read surface thoughts. See if we can get a sense of what's happening here.

(OOC: cool, very cool, guys. this is shaping up to be very damned entertaining. can't wait until the real bad guy gets here, errr, the plot thickens)

 Killian nails a perfect three-point landing without losing his rifle and then more or less automatically rolls forwards, underneath the lash of lightning that strikes out at him, hurling himself up and forwards over a second line of energy, his forearm sinking a couple of inches into the mushy ground before redirecting his roll into a 'ready' position from which he snaps up the rifle to put another burst into his target's upper body (to reduce the risk of friendly fire and over-penetration) - the Dog Boy manoeuvring to try and keep the distance between him and the target open while spreading out from the group proper to give the giant-kin more space to try and keep track of.

 ---

19:22, Today: Killian rolled 13,19 using 1d20+1,6d6.  Laser fire.
19:17, Today: Killian rolled 29 using 1d20+11.  Dodge, with assorted bonuses.

Noting that the hunters had indeed scattered for cover and safety that weight was lifted slightly from her shoulders.  Jen could now turn her attention back to the on going fight.  As lightening started to strike at people she made the decision to activate the electricity resistance of her psionic ability, opting to remain with the little cover the boulder gave over trying to dance away from the electrical bolts, all the better to keep a steady aim, and continued to fire from range.  Hoping that her contribution would help whittle the creature down or distract it from causing too much harm the the others.

(OOC: Activate electrical resistance, immune to normal electrical damage, half damage from MD sources.
10:01, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 22 using 1d20+4.  Aimed Strike.
10:01, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 13 using 4d6.  Laser damage.)

Armen cast his mental intent into the Giants mind. There was more resistance than he expected, but he was able to establish contact with its mind. The Giants thoughts were surprisingly focused and accurate. It kept a running tally of opponents, their positions, and attacks that would focus on the group as a whole to keep their attention on it. As it took incoming weapons fire it chanted to itself to keep calm. It was actually quite unsettling to realize just how calm and mentally focused the Giant was, especially with how it took the brunt of the groups' attacks in order to keep them distracted.

Distracted! Armen's own thoughts shouted at him. The Giant was being obvious, overwhelmingly obvious, to distract the camp from another threat.


The group danced about, hardly covering space but necessarily moving away from the Giant's attacks. The lightning whipped through trees and several tents with crackling energy that exploded tree trunks and set fire to tents and foliage.

Several blasts from laser and particle weapons blew away bits of the Giant's armor. A scream escaped the helmet, muffled but definitely a scream of pain, when a beam of crackling energy struck the helmet making it uncomfortably hot inside. The staff began a return sweep, lightning continued to split trees and tents as it came searching for them again. Several explosions in the beam showed where grenades launched at the weapon came very near to their mark.

Just as the staff was brought to bear on them, there was a powerful explosion. Everyone was driven backwards into the muck. Trees shook and many broke, limbs ad leaves littered the area, scrub brush was ripped away from the ground, and tents were knocked flat across the area.

The last think any of the group saw before being launched ass-over-tea-kettle into the muck was the giant. It was flung upward and back violently. It sailed at least ten yards into the air before it began to drop to the ground. Flame and smoke covered its torso and arm.

Hawkins was slammed reward through a boll of trees, felling all of them in the process, before he came to halt in the mud. The force of the impact coupled with the electrostatic discharge of the explosion forced his systems to shut down and reboot. He counted down with the timer in his micro-processor.

Jennifer was aching all over, her fur stood up with static, but she only suffered damaged from having been tossed through the top of a magnolia tree before landing as ungracefully as any cat had ever landed in the muck.

Killian was singed. He could smell the burnt fur. That static discharge had been rough. His armor had held up though so he lived. The aches and pains he felt told him he was alive. He was grateful, just not happy about it. His head itched, inside, it was like an itch he could scratch. Then it hit him as he sat up in mud where he had landed after his short, unwanted flight across the camp. There was a strong presence close by, coming from the north, magical in nature and strong.

Armen looked down, he wapped in a cocoon of cyprus limbs and spanish moss that made him wonder how that was even possible. Then he realized he had been launched completely through the tree just behind him. That would explain the pain he felt, he thought, and why he hadn't sailed on through the air towards the river. Now, if only that other threat the Giant was distracting them from would just bugger off.

Book had felt the blast, witnessed it really. It was like he was in slow motion. Combat drugs pumped his body full of hormones and proteins just as the explosion occurred. He was hurtling with great force through the air. Lifted high, instead flung back like the others. He could feel the momentum in limbs as he tumbled through the air. It was weird, like he was observing the experience from outside of his body. Was he dead? Nope, the impact with the luke-warm river dispelled all notions of his demise instantly.

Nutball was hurtled into a tree. Then another. Then his progress was halted by a large boulder partially submerged in the mud. It was a painful journey. Though it must have been funny to witness since his spectral friends laughed uproariously.

Therea was just getting over having been tossed about the first time. She was beginning to feel quite put out by all this explosion nonsense. She was flung into a loping arc that left her hanging in a cyprus tree's limbs about twenty feet of the ground. She ached in ways words would not be able to converse.

There was a small crater, a mere ten yard wide by three yard deep hole in the ground that beginning to fill in with fetid water. Not far away part of the staff the Giant had been wielding was lodged in the trunk of a tree. The Giant's right arm hung from some low hanging limbs further own. Flames and smoke rose from the Giant's torso nearly thirty yards from the crater.

(OOC: everyone roll 2d6 to determine how much SDC damage you suffered inside of your armor from the shaking, shocking, bone-jarring, and shock your suffered. roll 2d4 x 10 for the MD your armor takes from that blast, you may spread the MD across the various parts of your armor as you see fit.)

The static effect on the fur of her tail was irritating, forgotten with the bodily impact of the blast.  The explosion blasted Jen from her cover, flinging her through branches of a tree.  Making a splash down was not her most graceful of landings, but the vestibular apparatus (Righting Reflex power) did manage to allow her to orientate to at least hit the ground on feet and a hand, despite being incredibly shaken up and having the majority of her armour shredded.

(OOC: 19:25, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 10 using 2d6.  SDC damage from blast.
19:25, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 4 using 2d4.  x10 MD from blast.)

(OCC:  my apologies for the gap in responses, I will try to be more consistent.  The following are the relevant rolls.)


23:41, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 35 using 1d100.  Acrobatics (Balance) @ 75%.
23:49, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 20 using 1d20+8.  Aimed attack roll w/ JA 11, +8 bonus.
23:50, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 15 using 4d6.  JA-11 Maximum damage setting.
00:00, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 9 using 1d20+7.  Auto dodge.
00:05, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 19 using 1d20+12.  Roll with impact (if allowed) .
00:08, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 2 using 2d6.  SDC from impact (not even a scratch).
00:08, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 5 using 2d4.  2d4×10 MD,  OUCH! .
00:15, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 2 using 1d100.  Swimming @ 60%.


  Willy had tried to be prepared for anything, but the armored giant with a literal magic staff caught him by surprise, & quite frankly left him stunned for a moment.  It would cost him.  The momentary pain from the attacks only brought him back to his senses, but not before taking a direct hit from the lightning from the staff.  He managed to get a shot off from his rifle, but soon found himself underwater.  Luckily he was accustomed to being tossed into water, & quickly had his head above water again.  He then started reassessing the situation, starting with the giant, & checking for his allies.  He was back on land (swamp?) before he had finished.
  Wait, where had Princess gone?

Thrown, more than tossed, this time Theresa waits until she comes to a full and complete stop before aiming the long musket at the giant, managing a solid but unimpressive center mass hit directly into its chest all without bothering to disentangle herself from the tree, clearly just as comfortable farther away as long as she is up off the ground a bit.

 The second explosion - combined with the psychic assault that's forcing alien emotional responses into his head - pitches Killian howling into the undergrowth a second time, three hundred pounds of genetically engineered wolf no match at all for the sort of forces being thrown around the battlefield.

 Shedding pieces of cracked and shattered armour, char-marks and burns along with vicious blast-driven cuts scattered across his body the Dog Boy shakes his head to try clearing it as he yells "Incoming Magic source at twelve o'clock, and something's trying to fuck with our emotions!", trying to use his anger to drive out whatever the hell is messing with his head as he staggers for cover.

Hawkins smiled inwardly at the situation and tried to think turtley thoughts.

'Yep...this is why I left...'

Nutball goes limp and twists his body about as he is flung back by the explosion.  His back hits one tree, but he has curved himself to help protect it, and that his is the worst.  The next he hits with his hands and feet, elbows and knees bent to absorb impact.  The last, he hits feet first against the boulder, knees bent again, and springboards off of it to nail another Hero's Landing in the muck.  Luckily, he feels no pain.
Standing up and gripping his weapon, he looks up and focusses to see the crater and the remains of the giant.  Did I do that?  Wow.  That's impressive.  Who's next?  He turns to the laughing Frank and Al.  Laugh it up, dead-oes.  At least I survived.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Sat 29 May 2021.

Armen (still a bird, just quite a singed one now) fluttered to the top of the tree and looked around. He wasn't the heavy hitter of this particular combat scenario and the best help he could offer was information.

He did project thoughts to whoever was close enough.

The giant is just a distraction! There's something else coming!

Head hazy with the blast Jen hauled herself to her feet.  Heeding the warnings given and bringing up a Mind Block.  Battered armour unlikely to take much punishment she made the decision to move away from the group getting caught in another blast would be the end.  Moving off in the direction hunters had taken she was also checking to see if any of them had been caught in the blast and needed help.

(OOC: Activate Mind Block)

Screams erupted from the forest ahead of Jennifer. The fleeing hunters had encountered whatever was coming towards the camp. She tensed, this was shaping up to be a dangerous day. A man suddenly broke from the shadows about thirty yards from Jennifer into the forest. He was running haphazardly barely dodging the trees. Jennifer peered past the man trying to see what he was fleeing when a tall, muscular woman came bounding out of the shadows to the man's left and tackled him with the power and expertise of a Juicer Linebacker.

In an instant she had the man trapped between her thighs, his back to her chest, her back in the mud. As he struggled she locked a collar around neck. The woman wore very unfamiliar clothing and armor. There was a sort of weird visor over her eyes and she looked to be at least six and half feet tall, if not taller.

Up ahead she could make out the sound of trees crashing to the ground.

Jen swore, what ever it was was coming closer and she would be the first to encounter it.  Then the man broke running in fear and was pursued, clearly that woman was not the big thing that was coming, but the act of someone taking slaves was obvious and it sickened her.  Almost without thinking Jen took off towards the couple, thirty yards was a very short distance to her and so she dove on the tall woman joining in the wrestling pile to leaver the slaver from the hunter to rescue him.  Strength and leverage to start with, well aware that her muscle physiology was far superior to humans, rather than bringing the vibro-claws into play setting the man free was her first goal over causing harm.

 There are rules when it comes to fighting monsters, and those rules are trained into the average Dog Boy on a level so deep that they might as well be instinct and above all else, the most important one is focus.

 What one gun can singe, a dozen can drop. What one blade cuts, a dozen will kill. If your weapons can't hurt it, you can distract it while something moves up that can... Sink your teeth in deep and never, ever ease up.

 Staggering into low cover, well back from the battlefield by this point, Killian gives his C-12 the field-approved tap-and-shake to clear the focussing lenses and brings his sights back onto the battered giant lead woman, double-tapping them with a pair of bursts aimed centre-of-mass, looking to put the damn' thing down for good while it's still engaged.

 ---

19:00, Today: Killian rolled 18,22 using 1d20+1,6d6.  Pew, pew, pew!
19:00, Today: Killian rolled 11,18 using 1d20+1,6d6.  Pew, pew.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:38, Mon 07 June 2021.

While completely unsure of who, or what, the visored woman is, or what it is that her presence heralds, he knows one thing:  cover is a good idea right now.
He ducks behind a lone copse mangroves, ducking down and leaning against a trunk to begin reloading the grenade launcher of his Firebreather.


19:46, Today: Nutball rolled 85 using 1d100.  Lore:  Demons nad Monsters @ 45%.
He is going to spend the next six to twelve actions reloading his launcher

This message was last edited by the player at 04:37, Fri 04 June 2021.

"Goddamn slavers."

Hawkins arose from the muck strangely shiny as the nanobots on his armor broke down the material of the swamp itself to repair the damage he had sustained.

He cleared and checked his rifle. This was likely to be a serious fight.

He radioed the newly berserk catgirl, "Be careful. These bitches don't travel alone."

As if signalling the women with his radioed warning, several figures came darting through the forest. They tackled and restrained the last of the hunters. With ease. They were fast and powerful. They reminded Jennifer of juicers. A little slower, but juicers none the less.

It was clear they were familiar with the swamp. They moved with more ease than the party through the shadows and muck. This was normal thing for the women, and advantage the party would have to overcome for sure. Jennifer was descended of predators, real ones, so she knew the signs of another predator when she saw one. And now she was seeing signs of six. At least.

A bean cut through the air. It was a powerful energy that crackled in the humidity. It was a particle beam, and a powerful one. Back near Hawkins a tree exploded. It had been an ancient cyprus tree that was six feet thick. Now, it was splinters and flaming chunks. The blast toppled the tree in an instant sending it crashing into the swamp with loud crash. Luckily the splinters did little compared to the party's modern armor.

A voice called from the depths of the swamp to the north. "Yot hu-lan ami" the voice called to them. It was electronically broadcast and slightly distorted. Then again, but in heavily accented English it called out, "You are mine now!"

Hidden behind the mangrove copse, Nutball hears the bellowed orders.  Shit!  That don't sound good!
He continues to reload the Firebreather's grenade launcher knowing full well he is going to need it, and the NG Super Laser's, extra firepower.

  Willy spent just 1 more second observing the new 'arrivals', secretly impressed with their speed & strength.  Thankfully, that 1 second also answered another question of his: Princess had found a small depression in the ground, behind a half buried log, to take cover.  He gave a smile, thankful he had prioritized her survival training.  He decided she had a good idea, & dashed for the nearest piece of sizable cover.
  After a quick check of his weapons, Willy took a closer look at the armored giant through his scope.  He wanted to know if the blasted thing was about to get up, or if it was down for now.  No point in wasting time & shots on a corpse.
  (if the giant is getting up, that's the target, otherwise, it's the new 'wrastler lasses'.  called shots, to the head, on clear targets, either way)
  Willy breathed in, let it out, & squeezed the trigger.  He finally took a breath in after half a dozen careful shots.


23:07, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 15 using 1d20+8.  aimed attack roll w/ JA-11.
23:07, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 28 using 1d20+8.  aimed attack roll w/ JA-11.
23:07, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 16 using 1d20+8.  aimed attack roll w/ JA-11.
23:07, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 21 using 1d20+8.  aimed attack roll w/ JA-11.
23:07, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 10 using 1d20+8.  aimed attack roll w/ JA-11.
23:06, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 24 using 1d20+8.  aimed attack roll w/ JA-11.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Fri 04 June 2021.

Slavers. Splugorth slavers. Armen's people had seen their like before. He didn't want to get involved, they weren't exactly a good thing to get in front of, but he couldn't sit here and let this abomination happen.

Still a bird, he took off across the swamp until he was close enough to cast a Magic Net over them. Especially the ones who hadn't tackled anyone yet.

OOC Magic Net, 60 ft range, catches 1d6 (4) human sized targets.

The warning about the women travelling in packs had come too late as Jen was already her.  When all was said and done Jen was indeed an apex predator at the core, not only mentally but also physically and compared to humans she was truly built differently, despite her size her strength could come close to the augmented strength of a juicer in raw power and she was fairly fast as well.

Wrestling with the slaver woman to force her to let the hunter go Jen was partially aware that others had arrived, in part regretting the dash to save the man, but the idea of community had been imprinted into the genetic structure passed on from parents, she knew that it had been the right thing to do when she made the decision.  Bare seconds later she also knew it had been foolish and illogical given the reinforcements that had arrived.

Not wanting to get in anyone else's way Theresa both stays put up in her tree and aims her magic flintlock rifle at one of the women not yet being shot at or netted by magic, shooting bolts of magical fire at her in an effort to either kill or distract her from collaring the hunter.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:39, Sat 05 June 2021.

Jennifer went rolling with the tall woman. The was intense in her attack; strong, aggressive, intentional. Jennifer had never truly relied on melee combat as a mainstay to win fights. Modern armor and firepower made such contests obsolescent and incredibly dangerous. But, now that she was in the middle of such a fight, it occurred to her that this woman was someone that actually did kill in such a manner.

The pair rolled in the muck battling for position, leverage, an opening to exploit, and moment's respite. Nearby two hunters and a pair of the tall warrior women were suddenly cinched together in what looked like a glowing net of energy. One of the women responded quickly enough to keep arm sticking out of the net and fired with a laser pistol set for pulse bursts. Beams of crackling red light lanced through trees exploding trunks, vaporized muddy water, and burst rocks into to semi-liquid debris.

A warrior woman was hit by a bolt of energy from Theresa's musket sending a shower of sparks from her armor and causing her to miss a shot with a particle beam rifle sighted on Hawkins. In an instant, the particle beam was turned on Theresa. The beam struck home with a crackling jolt after piercing several trees and something that had been alive moments before. Theresa felt the heat of the impacts through her armor. But that was all. (7 MD to main body)

Book was firing shots so fast the his weapon becoming hot. To anyone noticing it seemed like he was firing a burst. He was satisfied with his hits, though the results were quite lack-luster since none penetrated the women's' armor. And the fact that none of them seemed to be bothered with trying to dodge his was disconcerting. Was their armor that strong?

Killian was experiencing the same trouble as Book. The hits were there. The was obvious damage to the women's armor. But, it didn't deter them from capturing the hunters or stop them from engaging in the fight. The conclusion was easy to come by, this was going to be a hell of a fight.

Intentionally Jen tried to roll the fight to a deeper puddle.  While her armour was very battered, it was still a full environmental suit, what the other woman was wearing didn't seem to be so forcing the other combatant to deal with possible drowning as well and fighting seemed like a good idea.

Brought up on a frontier town Jen had gotten into some scraps which had never gotten too out of hand as unique body strength and razor claws quickly subdued things from going too far.  Her father, military trained, had of course taken it upon himself to give her some combat training, the basics of a fighting form and lessons in boxing to keep healthy and active.

Mind back on the tussle Jen was still avoiding using the vibro claws, forcing the other combatant into submission would be better than trying to gut them and provoke the same attempt, she was pretty sure her armour would not stand up to that sort of assault.

When Nutball finishes loading the grenade launcher and pokes his head around his concealment (because it is pretty useless as cover), he considers defecating in his underpants.  Holy shitballs!  What the fu..., there is a sudden sound of static, is that?!  And it's surrounded by, burst of static, ...king floating eyeballs the size of, burst of static, ...king oil drums!?  What the shit?!
He takes careful aim at the head of the thing sitting in the barge, and fires a grenade at it.  He gets to watch as a direct hit explodes, obscuring the target's head.

18:41, Today: Nutball rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

18:41, Today: Nutball rolled 4 using 2d6.  MD to 20'.

18:40, Today: Nutball rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Aimed shot with grenade launcher. 

 "Shit, shit, shit... Pick a target and focus, bring down the barge!" Killian yells, hunkering down deeper into his scrap of shelter, lining up his rifle on the floaty bastard and triggering another pair of pulses, fully expecting to see them slam into an energy field of some sort but at least hoping that they'll degrade it enough for someone else to strike an effective blow.

 ---

19:42, Today: Killian rolled 17,26,16,22 using 1d20+1,6d6,1d20+1,6d6.  Burst fire.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:42, Mon 07 June 2021.

In reply to Jennifer Long (msg # 229):

(OOC: Jennifer please make two attack rolls, i will use the result to push that fight along. good job, by the way, I am enjoying your narration and depiction of the scene.)

In reply to Nutball (msg # 230):

Nutball was ecstatic, it was a direct hit for sure. Then, as life usually does to him, Nutball was disappointed to realized that the grenades struck a force field of some kind. In a very dazzling manner the explosions seemed to detonate just short of thier target. But, there was a wave of energy that passed over the terrain around the barge sizzling away water and crushing trees. The force field had given out under the impact of the grenades.

In reply to Killian (msg # 231):

Killlian was shocked, a split second before he fired there was an explosion on the barge. It was too late to let off the trigger.

The pulsing laser beams lanced through the explosion. A roar was heard. Killian hoped it was in agony. But, a roar that loud could have easily been a battle cry. As the smoke cleared he could see the still advancing barge, but the big bastard riding at its center definitely had been hit just under his chin along his right collarbone. He just didn't seem deterred by Killians fire.

Content to stick to the one target she has already drawn the attention of, but not to remain an easy target, Theresa runs over to another tree and shoots the same woman with her firebolt slinging musket.

Hawkins added his fire to the others targeting the Slave Barge.

He fired his German Particle Beam Rifle at the Slaver and deployed his shoulder mounted missile launcher firing a volley of three plasma mini-missile at him as well.

In the silty muck of the feted swamp water Jen tried her best to hold the the other woman under the surface often enough to rob her of her strength and breath.  She would go for subduing the assailant rather than out right killing for now.  But it was a rough and tumble wrestling match.

(OOC: 23:21, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  Strike.
23:20, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 7 using 1d20+3.  Strike.)

His enhanced vision showing that the weird barge pilot is now bleeding from his chin, Nutball decides to fire off three more grenades in rapid succession at the barge.

I really need a mini-missile launcher....
20:34, Today: Nutball rolled 8,7,6 using 2d6,2d6,2d6.  Grenade damages to 20'.

20:33, Today: Nutball rolled 5,19,5 using 1d20,1d20,1d20.  Grenade burst.

Armen didn't think he had sufficient firepower for this fight. He was far more of the 'cut and run' than 'stand your ground.' But he had accepted these people as friend, and he had accepted these hunters as his protectorate. And those weren't commitments he help lightly.

Still a small bird, he leaped from the top of the tree and swooped over the battlefield. Most of the good he could do wouldn't be done trying to get in the melee with the women. So he wanted to concentrate on the barge and the insane thing driving it.

He had to get pretty close, but he was still depending on his small size and form hiding him.

He concentrated, reached out with his will and his mind to the strange, otherworldly powers that ruled in other realms. His mother had known them intimately and had taught him to commune with them.

Using a spark of their power, he called forth a fragment of their power in the shape of an eight foot tall bipedal creature made of mud. He called it forth right in front of the barge, barely fifty feet away.

Hopefully it would draw some fire. And it had some tricks of its own.

  After releasing a volley of shots at his target, Willy took a moment to glance towards the commotion his teammates were causing.  His jaw went a bit slack at the sight of the monstrosity sitting atop (in?) the floating contraption, surrounded by what seemed to be a dozen large eye balls.
  "Well there's somethin' new." he said in a hushed voice.
  After hearing Killian's instructions to focus on the big ugly thing, Willy slung his rifle on his back, pulled out his grenade launcher, & began lobbing ordinance, aiming for the big lizard thing's chest.
  "Let's hope you hate this!" he hissed under his breath.

Jennifer was just about to give up and try something different when the woman in her grip suddenly went limp. Heaving her immensely muscular body over she was relieved to discover that the woman was, indeed, unconscious. Quickly securing the woman with the shackles hanging from her own gear, Jennifer looked up in time to see another of the warrior women descend upon her with a flaming sword.

(OOC: Jennifer roll for a dodge, - 1,234, nah just kidding, roll a dodge.)

A savage confluence of laser and particle beams, grenades, and homicidal intent struck the barge as the slugorth riding it tried to maneuver the oddly shaped vehicle. It took a staggering blow to one of the odd looking modules along it leading edge and suddenly staggered, nose splashing down, into more trees and rocks.

Angry, excited by the difficulty of the newest prey, and perplexed a bit, the slaver turned his staff-weapon towards the assemblage of scattered fighters an said something in loud, strange voice. There was a peel of thunder overhead in that instant, followed immediately by flashing arc of lightning.

(OOC: If you can see the slaver make a dodge roll. whips of lightning are shooting all through the camp and surrounding area.)

A warrior woman, taller than the rest, stands and gives a whistle-like signal and immediately turns to sprint into the party. Without completing their task of securing other prisoners several of the warrior women jump to their feet and immediately follow. They draw hand weapons, mostly swords and pistols, but the leader swings a techno-wizard weapon, a compact pulse laser with a chain blade combination weapon.

Hawkins realized he is in line with the advancing warrior woman leader, the thoughts that struck were 'well, damn, she's got a laser submachine gun with a chain saw on it'. It was turning out to be that kind of day.

 In a fight involving high-energy weapons, there isn't really such a thing as 'cover' except arguably for a sufficient thickness of dirt, but it generally helps to keep things between you and the person you're trying to kill...

 ...except when they're shooting wildly seeking arcs of lightning all over the place, at which point all Killian can do is hurl himself backwards, trying to stay under the actinic lash striking at his firing position and then trigger another burst from the ground, hoping to injure the damn' thing before it can re-establish whatever arcane protections they breached to bring it down, "Keep it up, we're hurting it!"

 ---

13 to dodge, 15 to hit and 18 damage on the barge-rider.

13:15, Today: Killian rolled 13,15,18 using 1d20+8,1d20+1,6d6.  Dodge & shoot.

15:20, Today: Hawkins rolled 25 using 1d20+13.  Dodge.

The Bionic Marine executed a bizarre but effective evasive pattern almost dancing through the lightning.

Looking at the onrushing Blind Warrior Woman he smiled inside his helmet and, throwing the particle beamer over his shoulder where it stuck with a faint 'clank' to a magnetic grapple, he swung out a tremendous spike backed warhammer with "Chak, chak" written on the haft.

"Howdy Ma'am...wanna snuggle?"

He moved to meet her at around 70 mph and his first blow was respectfully aimed at her head.

With the first assailant rendered unconscious and secured it was the sound of the approaching warrior that got her attention, diving to roll and dodge out of the way, activating the hooked virbo-claws to turn and meet the flame sword wielding woman.  Jen paused for a moment, focused on this new fight, hoping the others were lasting against whatever it was that had arrived for them, but focus, flaming sword needed to be dealt with.  She set about aiming to swipe the weapon from the woman's grasp, the hooked vibro-claws were designed for such a task.

(OOC: 21:04, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 17 using 1d20+5.  Dodge flaming sword.
21:10, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 9 using 1d20+4.  Disarm.)

Nutball pokes out from around the copse long enough to fire off three more grenades.  Unfortunately, the first hits, but bounces away without exploding, unlike its successors.  They hit and explode nicely.
Then, as the lightning approaches his position, he seems to handspring and somersault away without even thinking about it....

19:41, Today: Nutball rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  Automatic Dodge.

19:29, Today: Nutball rolled 2,10,8 using 2d6,2d6,2d6.  Grenade damages to 20'.

19:28, Today: Nutball rolled 9,17,18 using 1d20,1d20,1d20.  Grenade shots.

Taking advantage of being ignored by the warriors running into melee with the others Theresa stays behind her tree and targets the one with the special gun, unloading half a dozen rounds most of which get at least close enough to force her to dodge to avoid them.

(rolls for previous attacks)

  19:03, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 22 using 1d20+5.  Attack rolls w/ WI-GL4 Grenade Launcher.
  19:03, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 23 using 1d20+5.  Attack rolls w/ WI-GL4 Grenade Launcher.
  19:03, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 21 using 1d20+5.  Attack rolls w/ WI-GL4 Grenade Launcher.
  (Caught up)
  19:16, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 13 using 1d20+5.  Auto dodge vs lightning .

  Willy tried to step out of the way of a lightning bolt, with dubious success.  Not wanting to let up on the attack, he unleashed another 6 grenades at the large monstrosity, hoping to remove it from the battle fast with combined overwhelming firepower.

  Dang overgrown iguana just don't die, do it?" he asked no one in particular.
  (New attack rolls)
19:45, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 24,10,6 using 1d20+5,1d20+5,1d20+5.  Ok, it works.  Attack rolls, Grenade Launcher. 
19:48, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 13,15,11 using 4d6,4d6,4d6.  Damage, grenades, 12' radius.

(Dang.   That last 1 looks unpleasant.)
This message was last edited by the player at 23:49, Fri 11 June 2021.

Armen ordered his little mud elemental to summon a wall of stone under the barge, hoping that might tip it over (or at least provide a barrier and a few minutes' respite).

And at the same time, he looked to see if there were a tightly-enough packed group of the blind women with few enough friendlies. If he could find a 30ft area of such, he summoned a billowing a cloud of hot ash into being to distract them.

If that was not possible, he hurled a trio of tiny fireballs at the nearest and/or most dangerous looking of the women.

OOC: If there's a 30ft area with some bad guys and no friendlies, Cloud of Ash causes 2d6 SDC per round (save for half), and -10 to strike/parry/dodge (no save) if you aren't wearing environmental gear or are a Mega Damage creature. If not, Mini Fireballs do 3d6 damage, and have to roll an 18 or higher to dodge.

The Mud Elemental makes a wall of stone with 200 MDC, and is 32x32x16.

In reply to Killian (msg # 242):

Killian was shooting accurately. He could see the sparks fly from the slaver as bits of it and its gear were cast off with each impact. With a livid snarl or laugh, Killian wasn't sure, the things waved an arm over a module close to hand and a pair of beams lanced out from the front of the barge at him.

(OOC: using Killian's provided dodge roll here.)

A beam of energy plastered the Dog Boy in the center of his armored chest. There were sparks, singed fur, and a felt impact that slid him back a yard on his feet.

(OOC: 18 points MD to main body)

The other beam sizzled past the Dog Boy to lance a long thin line through the swamp for about a half mile.

In reply to Hawkins (msg # 243):

Hawkins and the warrior leader collided like a pair of charging dinosaurs; all speed, fury, and splattering mud. Shots were fired, with muzzles nearly touching, as both slammed, kicked, and thrust at each other. In the end more damage was done to their surroundings than anything else.

(OOC: close quarter fight, please make three attacks with rolls, and roll a dodge. we play it out based on the strength of the rolls. thanks)

In reply to Jennifer Long (msg # 244):

Jennifer was impressed with these warrior women. He disarm was anticipated as she made to strip the woman's weapon away. They have seen quite a bit of close in fighting, she thought. Suddenly an arm like steel cords wrapped her waist and Jennifer went sailing backwards into the muck as the woman bodily flipped the feline mutant onto her back and drove the flaming sword at her.

(OOC: make a defense roll. doge, roll, etc. whatever you feel useful to flow into your next sequence and make a few attacks and rolls please. we'll go by the strength of the rolls)

In reply to Nutball (msg # 245):

The barge took a surprising impact as several grenades went off nearly at the feet of the slaver. It held up under the punishment, but the slaver was staggered back and fell into the swamp behind the barge.

(OOC: detail a couple of actions, make the appropriate rolls, there isn't any warrior women within twenty yards or so. The barge is still about a hundred yards out. thanks)

In reply to Armen (msg # 239):

The mud man charged in. Several of the warrior immediately turned to face it. The first was simply overrun. The mud creature seemed to engulf her. It plowed into the swamp trapping the women between its mass and the bottom of the swamp as her companions fired on it with a particle beam pistol and a pulse laser pistol.

(OOC: use you other spell. let's see how it goes.)

In reply to Douglas William Book (msg # 247):

Book was exasperated. He had fired a lot. Even by juicer standards. He was sure to develop a blister on his trigger finger. The slaver was down, out of sight after that last series of attacks. If it got back up he would be impressed. But, in the back of his mind he expected nothing less to happen.

Then the lightning arc just passed, already fading as slaver fell away. But, the tail end of one of the tiny arcs from the main path of the lightning struck his leg. It gave out and pain shot through him. His micro-computer responded in nano-seconds shooting chemicals into his bloodstream. The pain faded almost as quickly as he felt it. But the muscles gave before the drugs could counter the spasms and Book feel awkwardly into the muck.

(OOC: Book in his side in the mud, he took 8 MD to the leg of your choice. take some actions and make the appropriate rolls, roll at least one dodge, please. we'll play it out based on the strength of the rolls.)

In reply to Theresa (msg # 246):

Theresa got in several good shots. Having to switch her aim as the battle changed while she acted. Those damn juciers and borgs could be so fast. And not to mention the warrior women as well. She managed to load a series of hits on a warrior woman moving to help the warrior fighting Jennifer. The woman was struck in the helmet, her face plate faltered soon, and there was energetic explosion inside of her helmet. Her body toppled into the muck next to where Jennifer fought the other warrior women.

 Lasers don't, technically speaking impart much in the way of kinetic energy as recoil... There's enough light pressure in a shot from a powerful rifle to simulate recoil but it's barely a whisper compared to the thump of a kinetic weapon.

 On the receiving end however?

 Thermal energy equivalent to seventy-odd sticks of dynamite detonating at once are absorbed squarely across Killians breastplate, ceramic layers ablating and superconductive weave decaying as they work to disperse and scatter that energy. Bruised, battered and not a little bit singed, the Dog boy staggers back in time to see the Slaver go down hard and dutifully changes targets, swinging his rifle to the blind huntress attacking the barely-a-cat in the mud and triggering two short bursts, almost draining his L-clip in the process, one burst flying true and the other...

 ...well, he was just nearly blown up.

 ---

06:40, Today: Killian rolled 16,20,2,21 using 1d20+1,6d6,1d20+1,6d6.  Shooting that one attacking the lass.

 Good thing Jennifer's in the dirt!

 - 22:16, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Auto dodge. 
 - 22:25, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 19 using 1d20+5.  Additional auto dodge roll, if needed.
 - 22:27, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 28,13,10 using 1d20+8,1d20+8,1d20+8.  Attack rolls, aimed head shots, JA-11.
 - 22:28, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 17,18,10 using 4d6,4d6,4d6. Damage rolls, JA-11.

  Willy tried to dodge another blast, but after taking a hit in his right leg, he stumbled.
Tarnation!  I thought I was good at this!
  He took a moment to reassess the situation.  With the big lizard out of sight, he looked for another target.  He could do nothing to help Killian, Theresa,  & Nutball for now, & Hawkins seemed to be holding his own.  So he turned his attention to Jennifer.
  Quickly switching weapons again, he took aim with his JA-11, & started taking shots at the heads of the attackers.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:45, Wed 16 June 2021.

23:02, Today: Hawkins rolled 14 using 1d20+13.  Dodge. That's a Nat 1.

23:02, Today: Hawkins rolled 13 using 1d20+12.  Strike . That's another Nat 1.

23:01, Today: Hawkins rolled 25 using 1d20+12.  Strike .

23:01, Today: Hawkins rolled 15 using 1d20+12.  Strike .

Geez...

Nutball moves so that he can continue to target the Splugorth slaver minion.  He uses indirect fire, if necessary, to continue to send grenades over the bulk of the barge to hit tbe giant, slug-like minion.

02:59, Today: Nutball rolled 22 using 1d20+3.  Initiative.

02:58, Today: Nutball rolled 9 using 1d20+4.  Automatic Dodge.

02:58, Today: Nutball rolled 8,5 using 2d6,2d6.  Grenade damages to 20'.

02:57, Today: Nutball rolled 7,5 using 1d20,1d20.  Grenade shots.

Splatting into the mud Jen had looked up to see the blade coming in.  Using the gauntlet and vibro-claws to attempt to fend off the attack she was conscious of the energy bolts lancing around her attacker and was internally thankful.  While she might be physically a match for the assailant, the woman was just far more practiced in fighting.

Jen swiped out a couple times to attempt to get space so she could regain her feet.

(OOC: 09:24, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Parry.
09:25, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Vibro-claw strike.
09:25, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 22 using 1d20+3.  Vibro-Claw strike.)

In reply to Killian (msg # 242):

Killian was on the verge of howling with joy. The fight seemed to be going in their direction and he was more certain of his freedom from a slave collar. Then a beam struck him in the torso, a near-to-perfect shot to the heart, that rocked him back a step. It was a powerful blow (24 MD to main body) and came from an unexpected angle.

Turning his head just in time, the Dog Boy ducked and weaved aside as another powerful beam shot past him. It crackled by leaving him with a sense of psychic residue. It was a TW weapon of some fashion. And one that packed a wallop.

(OCC: Killian doesn't know exactly where the shots came from. There are several reasonable firing positions with good concealment along the axis of fire. Use what skill or power you would like to in order to seek out the firer if you like. only use one choice and make your roll please. Post next actions for combat as well, please.)

In reply to Douglas William Book (msg # 257):

William suddenly found himself pressed by a warrior woman with ill intent in her heart. She descended upon William firing a pulse laser pistol and brandishing a vibro-sword. Her attacks came as no surprise, but her ferocity did. Book found himself twisting, rolling, and parrying by kicking against the woman's forearm to divert a sword swing. Steam, burning muck, and splintered trees showered down around them.

Through it all Book returned fire landing two telling attacks. The first came early in the exchange when a shot from his JA-12 blew the woman's helmet away. The next was the last attack of the exchange when Book managed to grab the woman's wrist when her sword swing missed and thrust his foot powerfully up under her chin. Her head snapped back at a completely obscene angle and her corpse fell forward into the much next to him.

In reply to Hawkins (msg # 258):

Hawkins found out three things about his opponent in short order. She was hyper-aggressive and put on the defensive more quickly than he would have normally allowed. She was tremendously strong, which accounted for his moving to a more defensive stratagem early on. And she was remarkably well versed in close combat, as evidenced by the new rends in his armor. Even as his robot repair facilities began repairing the damage the cyborg was countering the woman's aggression with his own.

Then is was her turn to be shocked. He shot at her, unsuccessfully, but this only drew her into contact range of his hands. Locking one hand around her wrist as she made gut him with the chain blade of her weapon, Hawkins twisted her wrist and drove the weapon's chain blade into an awkward angle where he then drove a spiked fist into it and scattered the blade. Not one to let momentum go unused, Hawkins pivoted and lashed out with rifle and caught the warrior woman in a powerful blow that sent her backwards into the mud and muck with a splash.

(OOC: Hawkins suffered two attacks to main body, 12 MD and 22 MD. Lay out a few more actions please.)

In reply to Nutball (msg # 259):

Nutball moved awkwardly in the mud, cratered earth, and shattered trees left in the passage of the lightning. His spiritual companions laughed at his awkwardness. Stepping over the body of something, a deer perhaps, he took up a firing position and fired of a volley of grenades on arcing trajectories that carried them high into the air to fall back to earth behind the barge.

There was a roar to accompany the explosions. The Splugorth Slaver stood just in time to be hit by a beam from Killian. Teamwork, even if unplanned, was still team work. The Splugorth fell. Again.

(OCC: the barge is burning, moving forward at walking speed on its own. The slaver is down, out of sight due to smoke and terrain. What are you next actions, don't forget to reload. thanks.)

In reply to Jennifer Long (msg # 260):

Jennifer regained her feet just as the warrior woman came in again with the sword. There was a lot of grunting, side-stepping, screaming, slashing, ducking, and punching before Jennifer caught the woman across the face and ripped her helmet open leaving her face fully uncovered and a large cut bled over her left ear.

The trees around Jennifer were butchered, scattered to splinters, and on fire. Her left hand ached, and she was sure that last kick to the small of the back made involuntarily piss in her pants. But, the other women was the one looking like she was in poor shape.

(OOC': what are Jennifer's next actions. She can see one more warrior woman ahead of her who is finishing her job of securing the last of the hunters with shackles. thanks)

With the entire battlefield erupting into chaos, Armen watched as his little mud dude got overwhelmed by attackers. But they were all on top of him now.

Summon a wall of stone, he ordered, To fall on top of all of you.

At the same time, he called up a cloud of ash to engulf the hoversled. Slow it down for a few minutes anyway.

OOC: Sorry, I've lost track a little of where everything and everyone is, so I'm a little bit winging it. Book says a strength of 60 is needed to move a Wall of Stone once summoned. The mechanical effects of Cloud of Ash are in my previous post.

In reply to Armen (msg # 266):

(OOC: it's all good. i get your gist. at least i believe i do.)

The mud man was fighting savagely. The warrior woman it sought to hold under its mass struggled as her companions shot or hacked at it. As this went on Armen continued casting, trying not to let the chaos across the battlefield distract him, and a stone wall erupted from the ground. It rose higher than the combatants assaulting his summoned elemental and sudden lurched over onto the fight. Two were trapped; one was under the mud man while the other was caught up in its grasp. The wall fell, splashing mud and muck twenty feet or more.

The other two rolled away from the wall and were coated with the splashing mud even as they sought out the source of the magic. One spotted Armen and pointed him out. The other was in motion in that instant as if she had never stopped moving. Armen kept up his assault and began casting again, summoning a cloud of ash around the barge. It was a bitter spell to use in this place, so damp as it is. Ash stuck to everything.

As the barge began to slow he could hear the approaching a feet stomping through the water.

 A key part of the training Killian went through involved learning how to do exactly not that - to clamp down on the emotional response to action and combat and to think instead of relying upon emotion and instinct...

 ... But not to ignore them, which is why when the first blast flashes into existence and slams against the tattered remnants of his armour he's already starting to move - albeit not swiftly enough - and is well clear of the second that slashes past his head a heartbeat later.

 With the slaver-thing on the barge venting blood flashed to steam and seemingly down for the count, he instead focuses upon evasion - looking to avoid taking a final blast from the unseen shooter.

 ---

My last action will be another dodge, as needed. Any sign of the mysterious shooter, given that I can detect a TW weapon a pretty long way out?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:46, Wed 16 June 2021.

  22:28, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 17 using 4d6.  Damage, JA11.
  22:28, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Attack roll, JA-11, point blank, head shot, coup de grâce.

  Willy put one more blast into the head of his assailant, not wanting a supposed corpse to attack him by surprise a second time.
  "Stay down, ya bushwhacking varmint!"
  Having been surprised once by these warriors speed & ferocity once already, Willy decided to take a more thorough look at the battle field, such as he could see it.  He also released the safety on his gauntlet mounted vibro blades, making sure they were ready to deploy in an instant if he found himself in close combat again.

22:37, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 5 using 1d20+4.  Perception, re-assessing the battle field.

(OOC: .... well crap.  That's gotta be a nat 1.)

Again more than thankful for the heavy padding of the Urban Warrior body armour Jen was still feeling a little battered and shaken up.  Seeing the injuries caused on her opponent were taking a toll she capitalized on them and redoubled her attack with the hooked vibro-claws, wanting to make short work here so that she could rush to the rescue of the struggling hunter.  This time Jen was not going to try for a non-lethal take down, as it had been blade verse blade, of sorts.  With a snarl she cut, slashed and thrust.

(OOC: 10:48, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Vibro-claw Strike.
10:48, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 7 using 1d20+3.  Vibro-claw Strike.
10:48, Today: Jennifer Long rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  Vibro-claw Strike.)

Taking advantage of the massive chaos and spells of the battle Theresa circles around the mostly open area to where the fight against the unique warrior woman and her big gun is, when she gets a clean shot on her she opens up with a barrage of fire.

Kneeling in the muck, which just somehow does not seem to cling to him for long, Nutball fires his last two grenades at the point where the slaver had fallen on the other side of the barge.

12:52, Today: Nutball rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Automatic dodge.

12:50, Today: Nutball rolled 4,13 using 2d6,4d6.  Grenade, grenade (critical)

12:49, Today: Nutball rolled 12,20 using 1d20,1d20.  Last two grenades.

In reply to Killian (msg # 268):

Killian is getting that strong 'its right over there' vibe about an odd rock formation amid a cluster of cyprus trees and spanish moss. The scene looked pristine, which gave it away. The moss was undisturbed. Those shots should have left a trajectory defining line of singed and scorched foliage. There was an illusion in play here, Killian was sure of it instinctively.

In reply to Douglas William Book (msg # 269):

William was surprised to see the wall collapse onto the mud man, who kept struggling to fight the warrior women trapped beneath it with him. There were two that managed to dodge away from that fracas and they immediately keyed in on something up in a tree, or at least off out his field of view. Then it occurred to William, Armen, that guy from the camp had been over there.

In reply to Jennifer Long (msg # 270):

Jennifer and the warrior woman locked up again, but there was something off about the woman. Without her helmet she seemed blind. It was her chance. Moments later she was surprised when the woman's head came away from her shoulders. She sighed, but the hackles off her neck rose when she heard the sounds of approaching feet.

In reply to Theresa (msg # 271):

Theresa saw an opportunity as Hawkins knocked the warrior woman onto her back. With only the lower portion of her face visible it was hard to read her reactions. Theresa hoped she was still off-guard as she unleashed her volley of shots. Most missed, the woman was more aware than Theresa would've thought.

The woman rolled, dove, and even did a kip-up to avoid being shot. But, she ran out of steam at the last moment and a bolt caught her square in teeth. It was the last straw for her defenses after the pummeling from this fight. The corpse fell, smoke issuing from burning muscles in its neck.

In reply to Nutball (msg # 272):

there was a flash, a bright orange flash. Nutball humphed. That wasn't what usually happened when grenades exploded. Maybe it was something unique about blowing slugorth. The barge ground to a halt, a cloud of ash enveloping it. He shrugged.

Then there was a secondary explosion. A damned big one that shook the swamp. Mud, muck, bits of greenery, and shattered trees rained down. It occurred to Nutball that if the slaver was still alive, it damn well was gonna be pissed off.

Death of another living creature was in the DNA of the sentient humanoid feline.  However seeing the life leaving another's face at her own hand did make Jen regret having to do this, she could justify it all she wanted but in the end the death was on her hands.

There was not time to linger on that now, the sound of feet were approaching and the sensation of trepidation all too familiar for someone with sixth sense (even though that was inactive) making Jen focus back on the world about her and search for the next on coming target.  Right hand raised to bring the gauntlet of the vibro-claws into a defensive position.

In reply to Professional Liars Union (msg # 273):

 "Tumble of rocks, hundred yards at four o'clock... Illusion!" Killian shouts as he makes a bee-line for anything even slightly solid that can be put between himself and the aforementioned illusion, cursing himself for not noticing the damn' thing when it went up - because shy of it being holographic and technological in some fashion, he really ought to have noticed the stink of it.

 Of course, ten minutes ago he had his brain flash-bombed by a Rift so hey, at least he's got an excuse.

Nutball slings the C14 diagonally across his back, and draws the NG Super Laser from the oversized holster on his right thigh.  While the C14 has a higher yield laser, the high-explosive grenades of the Super Laser's launcher are housed in both a six-round tube magazine combined with an eight round removable box mag.  They also have a heavier explosive charge while lacking the carved shrapnel pieces in the casing of the fragmentation grenades.  This provides a higher explosive damage yield, with less area of effect and shrapnel.  This means the means the grenade does not have to travel as far before arming, and the shooter can stand closer to his enemy without risk of harm to himself.
He then moves closer to the barge as he flips off the safety of the NG's launcher.  With already "one in the pipe", he is prepared to lay down the fear of Nutball in his opponent....
This message was last edited by the player at 23:06, Thu 17 June 2021.

Hawkins moved toward the the obscured barge and used his various sensors to try and determine what was going on over there.

In reply to Professional Liars Union (msg # 274):

  Willy readied his rifle once again, taking aim for the head of the Warrior further away.  "It's like they's invitin' me" he thought out loud.  He let off with another series of laser fire.

00:57, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 16,14,20 using 1d20+8,1d20+8,1d20+8.  Called shots, head, JA-11.
00:58, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 12,18,11 using 4d6,4d6,4d6.  Damage, JA-11.

Even as the weapon drops from the warrior woman's hands it leaps up off the ground to zoom over to Theresa, who spends the few seconds this unusual sort of weapon magnetism takes to conclude to reload her own rifle and sling the thing across her back.  Accepting the new weapon as offered out of the air Theresa ducks behind a big tree to spend a few moments assessing it before she does anything really crazy.

Armen cursed when he heard the dog Boy yell out. He, too, felt like he should have noticed the illusion earlier. Magic was, after all, his stock in trade.

He hated doing the same trick twice, but sometimes the answer to all your problems is a magical wall of stone (again).

He mentally commanded his little mud elemental to raise another wall of stone in between the illusion and his compatriots. It seemed roughly 50-50 on obeying that command. So he was interested in seeing what happened.

At the same time, he kept a wary eye on the battlefield, and tossed a blast of mini-fireballs wherever he thought it would do the most good.

OOC: Whatever warrior-woman seems either ready to drop, or is causing the most damage, or even the barge, if it emerges from the Cloud of Sticky Ash. Fireballs do 3D6 MDC (5 in this case) and need an 18+ to dodge).

Armen was busy. Hand gestures, incantations, posturing, and the buzz of adrenaline that comes from a fight where magic is his go to weapon. He thrilled at his successes so far as he rose another wall of stone from the muck. It shot up between the camp and the area the Dog Boy had called out.

Thinking on it for a split second, Armen wasn't surprised to realize it had went up without his noticing. It was a well woven spell, subtle in its ebbs and flows, and probably generated from a techno-wizard device made with considerable skill. Still, it was always bothersome not to notice something. Even in such a chaotic situation.

A pair of warrior women were rushing towards the area where the barge was enveloped in the cloud of ash. Taking an opportunity to lay out some more misery on the enemy, Armen cut loose with a hail of small fireballs into the pair. There arcing trajectories left trials of smoke. The impacts sent out a shock wave like and explosive followed by a whoosh of expanding flames. Both women were engulfed in the fire, only one emerged still running.

In reply to Theresa (msg # 283):

Theresa was amused. The weapon was a beefed up pulse laser pistol. It was capable of firing long 'bursts' of laser beam to saturate a target area quickly. The chain blade was an interesting adaptation of an industrial tool that obviously worked well at cutting into modern armor and structures. Too bad the blade was damaged from the fighting between the warrior and the cyborg.

In reply to Douglas William Book (msg # 282):

William was tracking the woman as she ran, her friend was a step behind. They were fast  for non-juicers, too fast. His finger was just depressing the trigger when there was an explosion of fire.

Fireballs! Who would thought of it.

The lead woman emerged from the fire. She was singed and grim and pretty damned hot. Literally, she was on fire. Her companion never emerged from the flames. William adjusted aim and fired. A pair of beam struck the side of her helmet with a shower of sparks. Her head just simply went away under the power of the beams. Her body ran on for another step and then toppled.

In reply to Hawkins (msg # 281):

Hawkins was approaching the barge. He was running too fast for this terrain and knew it, but there were times when you had to take that risk. He was on an unintended intercept course with a pair of warrior women and was going through his choices for combat when the pair were first consumed in fiery explosions and when only one survived that someone shot her head off with laser fire.

Hawkins shrugged mentally. It happened that way in combat. Checking his scanners there seemed to be a strong magnetic anomaly where that cloud was. That would be the barge, he thought, then there was a lesser and very slow magnetic reading moving away from it. Switching to a UV scan he could just pick out the tell-tale signs of movement beyond the barge. Mostly he spotted waves of energy and moving foliage. Someone over there seemed to be invisible.

In reply to Nutball (msg # 280):

"Bah, hah, hah, hah," a spectral presence laughed at Nutballs elbow, a smiling boy looked up at him, "You always were funny, no one is going to fear your balls! That's why you did so well in the circus."

Nutball ignored the jibe and focused on the area at the edges of that wall of stone. According to that Dog Boy there was someone hidden over there. Maybe they just needed to be a proper introduction to join the party.

In reply to Killian (msg # 279):

Casting his senses about for the enemy, it a surprise to see a wall of stone suddenly arise from the ground. Had he not witnessed the same thing a moment earlier in the fight, Killian would have assumed it was the enemy. Thought he wall did perfectly block line of sight to the area he pointed out. Whoever was there would most definitely have to move now.

In reply to Jennifer Long (msg # 278):

Jennifer turned, armed raising to block an expected attack from one those flaming swords these women seemed to love, but the running was past her. A heartbeat later fiery explosions consumed the pair of warrior women who ran past on their way towards the barge. One actually came out the other side on fire but was gunned down by laser fire that removed her skull.

Wow! Momentarily crossed her thoughts. It was then she saw Hawkins hurtling through the swamp like a madden juggernaut. He seemed to be headed past the barge, in the direction where the Splugorth slaver had fallen. Bingo!

For a few moments Jen scanned the battlefield checking to see if all the combatants were dealt with, or had a scary full borg charging them.  Then she set about searching the woman she'd...the one she'd killed, and the prisoner.  After all that flaming sword had been sweet and might be worth taking on, it certainly had been intimidating when it was waved in her face.

The other thing on her mind was that barge.  Maybe it had some good kit on it, could be repaired to work again or salvaged for parts, all would be good options.  Freeing the trapped hunters from their slave collars was very high on the priority list as well, maybe the captured woman would have what ever key was used to secure the restraints.  Jen quickened her search.

  "Hah!  Gotcha!"
  Willy took half a second to view the result of his efforts, then another 2 seconds to scan the battlefield, looking for the next priority.  He activated the advanced optical enhancements on his helmet visor, in case IR or UV would be more effective at spotting anything.  He paid extra attention to 3 locations in particular:
  1:  the earthen wall that had fallen over onto an enemy.
  2:  the wall that supposedly had some unseen enemies behind it, hidden by illusions.
  3:  the area around the obscured hover barge, which his 'borg buddy' & the 2 dead women had been running towards at high speed.
(OOC:  if he spots any more enemies, he'll start taking 'crippling' shots, like legs, or if they aren't running, maybe feet even.  "Try running on a bloody stump" would be his thought.)
22:38, Today: Douglas William Book rolled 24,15,13 using 1d20+8,1d20+8,1d20+8.  Attack rolls, aimed shots, JA-11 (as needed) .
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Wed 23 June 2021.

 Killian meanwhile, continues his apparently fruitless search for something resembling cover or concealment, snapping the mostly-spent L-clip out of his rifle as he does so, stashing it in his webbing as he moves evasively over the uneven ground.

 ---

 Dodging, reloading.

I did so well at the circus because I had the face of a circus star, Nutball jibes back.  I was a natural.  You guys hadda work for it.
And, at least I still have balls....
Seeing that the slaver appears to be down and out, he moves towards the stone wall.  Without the senses of the Dogboy, or the psychic ability to see auras, or the invisible, the Crazy is walking in blind.  The good news is that, being in a swamp environment, it should be fairly easy to track someone invisible.  Just look for changes in the environment with no visible cause.
As soon as he spots the indentations of feet/legs in the muck, he fires a grenade at it.

13:31, Today: Nutball rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Initiative.
13:31, Today: Nutball rolled 11 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

13:30, Today: Nutball rolled 11 using 4d6.  MD to 12'.

13:30, Today: Nutball rolled 19 using 1d20.  Grenade shot.

Hawkins shifted weapons again. This time switching from the Particle Beamer to a Plasma Flamer.

Closing in on the area where he had narrowed down the location of the invisible observer he added a gout of mega-damage fire to the grenades that were targeting it.

It was disconcerting.

The barge idled on, burning, crushing the terrain ahead of it until it dipped into the river and began slowly sink while it simultaneously burned.

The hunters were all present save three who were most likely taken by the warrior woman. They found several trails, often accompanied by the signs of people being drug, away from the area.

Killian was perplexed as well. The invisible sniper was simply gone. He suspected that the person had the ability to fly or levitate along the ground. The trail coming into the area the sniper had fired from showed signs of a lot of crawling about. Well, the parts of the area that hadn't been cratered, burned, or slashed with laser fire anyway.

As for the slaver. It had crawled a ways, used some sort of potion. The vile still held a drop or two. From that point it seemed to have slunk of into the haze and smoke and circled away from the fighting. There was a lot of blood, kind of greenish, smeared on many of the plants along its path.

In all there were nearly a dozen dead warrior women. Their paths through the swamp made it clear that they were moving by leapfrogging around one another in order to hide their true number. It worked pretty well. They were well armed, but most had suffered significant wounds and damage to their gear from the group's weapons.

Checking the time. Hawkins was surprised to realize two things. The fight had lasted for less than two minutes. And the his chronometer read that it was midday, 13:23 hours, on June 18th. He was confused, that put the date two days before the mission left from the Burbs outside Chi Town.

Armen surveyed the battlefield. Seeing that most of the threats had been neutralized he flew down from the tree back to his new friends and turned back into a charming but curmudgeonly older man. He put out a mental call for Egret (his familiar). And he looked around to make sure his other two friends (a ditzy poltergeist and a not-too-bright gremlin) were still find as well. He wasn't worried. They could generally take care of themselves.

He spat on the ground in the direction of the slaters and women.

"Splugorth," he said, "Slavers from Old Atlantis. My people have a lot of dealings with them. none of it good."

  Not finding any more active hostiles, Willy began "after action activities", checking his gear, reloading his weapons, checking for wounded, looking for tracks to follow, all the while keeping an alert eye on his surroundings, in case the enemy was still around.
  One of the first things he did though was call for Princess, his whistle piercing the surroundings.  When she came running up to him, he checked her front to back.
  "How's my girl?   Hurt anywhere?  Looks like your fancy suit will need patchin'."   His next words he transmitted to the whole team, "I'm a fair tracker when I need to be.  Shall I get to work on that so we's can maybe rescue them other fellers?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:49, Thu 24 June 2021.

 You can't really hide from a dog boy.

 Well, alright that's not strictly true but it's far from easy.

 If you've psychic or magical tools in use, then just getting within four or five hundred feet of one exposes you. Turning them off? Then you can get to fifty, sixty feet before the stink of them triggers an alarm.

 If you yourself are magical or psychic? Good luck, you're not getting near one while your powers are in a usable state and the ability to hide them is not at all common.

 None of which keeps them from being able to just flat-out smell you, which is why as the battle winds down - and things go silent except for the multiple small fires, the hissing steam-kettle bubbling of any standing water that was anywhere near high-energy weapons fire and the general 'tink' sounds of cooling metal - the Dog Boy growls "I don't smell the marksman. Might have teleported out." and starts quartering the area to where the illusory rock was, moving in short bursts from cover to cover, remarking as they go "I'm in no fit state for another fight. But we can't let them take captives."

Having helped the locals back to the remains of the camp, and gathering all but three are present.  Jen had turned her attention to what equipment remained of the attacked, which seemed to be pretty much nothing, even the large barge had gone out of reach without decent salvage gear.

Settling down for a few minutes to examine the state of her armour, listening to the chatter over the comms.

If they've high tailed it out of here by teleporting then following them is going to be beyond us.  My armour is almost shot, should just about stand up against mosquitos at the moment.  I can have a look at any of our damaged equipment and see what I can do with it. She gave a huffing sigh. Those really were a bunch of nasties.  How is everyone else fairing?

Just as Theresa starts to get an idea of how to use the new gun, or perhaps toy is a better word if her expression is anything to judge by, everyone is gone and the barge is plowing its way through the trees.

Without a better or more expendable target she aims the gun at the barge and lets loose with a test shot at it much like shooting the broad side of a barn at a target range.

Dammit!  If a painted smiley face on the visor of a helmet could look disappointed, Nutball's would.  Where'd that damned slug go?
He then turns to the new smiling face next to him.  You're not Frank or Al.  Who the hell are you?  Is my insanity progressing that quickly?

In her musings over what was recovered and the safety of the locals, Jen calls over the comms unit.

If anyone wants to try and get answers, I left one of the women manacled up.  And Hawkins?  Do you think you could pull that floating thing out of the water to dry land?  I might see if it's salvageable to be a hauling sled or something, as transport might be handy.

"I can certainly try. Looks pretty heavy and I'm only rated for 3 or 4 tons."

That said Hawkins waded into the water and started trying to drag the barge out.

  "Well, I might not be a walking talking bulldozer like you my friend, but I doubt it'd hurt if I gave you a hand.  If those varmints used magic to get away, I doubt my skills could follow them anyways." 
  Willy then heads over to help Hawkins, adding his augmented strength to the large cyborg's efforts.  Princess stayed close by, but out of the way.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:25, Sat 26 June 2021.

 "Pretty much wrecked, frankly. But this isn't going to help." Killian answers, pausing by the mostly-intact armour breastplate they recovered and holding it up to his chest for a moment... Where the fundamental difference in shape between a five-foot-ten humanoid female with ahhhh, 'large tracts of land' and a nearly seven-foot wolf who's built like a linebacker are thrown into stark contrast.

 He tosses the useless (to him) piece of armour towards the basically funny-smelling-human, (Jennifer) and adds "Did any of the humans they were chasing make it out?"