"God, I'm tired of running!" McCurdy actually hesitated for an instant, debating whether to try to stand his ground with his two pistols, but he gave in to what little rational mind he had and started after the others, ensuring Liza was capable of going as well as the little lizard-minx...

Marianne had to seize onto Liza's hands and drag the woman along.  The lizard-squirrel squeaked in alarm and leapt onto McCurdy's shoulders, slapping him in the face with the half-fluffy, half-scaly tail, its claws digging into his shirt and hide.   The two of them hurried after the pirates, who were running for all they were worth.  Save one; Hawksmoore paused on the edge of the path, letting the others go past him.

Brother Clary saw the creatures hunting them, running along the path, teeth and eyes gleaming in the twilight.  They were monsters of a lean and hungry make, with claws on small forearms and more on their large feet.  Their hides were scaly, patterned with stripes in gold and green, enough to render them well-hidden in such a venue as the jungle.  As the one he did not see lunged towards him from the side, he heard a loud thumping sound; it bowled over, hissing like a teakettle and flailing its small arms and long legs, having been victim to a flying kick from Hawksmoore.

"Shoot the big one !"  Hawksmoore said, hacking at the snapping jaws with the machete and managing to cut the thing's nose.  There was little time to aim...but they all looked huge.  Brother Clary was forced to settle on the next one rushing towards them, firing the shotgun at its vicious-toothed face, and then there was a sudden stampede at about knee-level.  A huge number of the little green chicken-like things were flooding the path, and the much larger predators didn't know what to do first - but settled on snapping at the easily available food, the stuff that didn't put up a fight.   Hawksmoore again kicked the downed one that wanted to bag a preacher for dessert, and the two men ran off down the path, following the rest of the party at top speed.

The path shifted again; as Hornsby and Lafitte rushed onwards, the heavy loam became sand, then gravel, then set stones, in a zigzag pattern of red and white, and the jungle receeded, the sunlight coming through the heavy greenery at last.  The path led into a courtyard of paved stones, set in a pattern like the sun, and at the centre of it was a small fountain, with bristly-looking dull green bushes growing around it.

Marianne came to a stop, trying to catch her breath. Liza was a lot heavier than she looked. She looked around, first with relief and then with growing interest.

"Is... that... the fountain?" she gasped.

Coming out of the jungle, face-to-face with this area that was so obviously a sacred shrine of some sort, Brother Clary slowed his pace and looked around at the sights, trying to absorb it all.

He finally settled on the fountain, and began a slow walk toward it, lowering his shotgun and holding it in one hand.  The other hand he reached into his jacket to pull out the skull that had come to him so mysteriously only a few moments earlier.

McCurdy burst into the sunlight and immediately squinted against the brightness. Slowing but not stopping, he darted to the left side of the courtyard, spinning as he did so, his back to the fountain, his pistols pointing back toward the wall of jungle. He was conscious of the lizard-squirrel but thought it would be less of a distraction than if the dinosaurs came roaring out of the jungle. He slowed to a backward walk, pistols still leveled at the wall of green and waited. Nobody wass running any longer so this was Last Stand Hill, he told himself as a queer thought flashed through his mind.

Why was he thinking of Zane Grey at a time like this...

"Careful - sometimes it is not what it seems," Hornsby said, and indeed, all three of the pirates were looking around very suspiciously.  And then, suddenly, it was as if they had turned to stone, then mist, blowing away into a sudden sharp cold breeze that carried with it the smell of glaciers.

The three travellers heard only the muttering splash of the small fountain, and the pitter-patter of the small claws on the lizard squirrel after it leapt to the stones and trotted around, pausing to widdle on one of the trees.  The light here was strange; it was impossible to tell if it was early morning, or sometime late in the day, when the sun had an angle that made perception difficult.  The dark jungle behind them seemed far away, somehow recessed, and shrouded in shadows and fog.

Something was rustling in Brother Clary's pack...

At the suddent disappearance of the pirates, Brother Clary started toward where they had just been standing a moment ago.  "Tarnation!" was all he could manage to sputter.

Just then, he looked round over his shoulder at his pack.  Easing off his body and down onto the ground, he stepped back a few paces.  With the barrel of his shotgun, he began to prod at the opening, attempting to loosen the fastenings.

Not looking at the others, he nonetheless murmured, "You folks might want to git ready fer a little more action..."

McCurdy groaned as the pirates disappeared, leaving them alone in this strange, mystical place. That was all that came out of his open mouth as she stood frozen, mild shock stilling him. If it had been the first miracle he had ever seen recently, he most likely would have been gawking more appropriately, but after what he had been through, he was beginning to feel numb to it all.

If not for Brother Clary, he might have remained in his daze. His eyes cut to the preacher and then his pack lying on the ground. He broke free of the ice holding his legs and walked over to the fumbling bag as if it was just another part of the weird day. “Don’t clip me off at the knees,” he quipped to the preacher as he casually reached down for the pack. With a pistol in one hand, he aimed at the pack, reached down with his other and undid the straps. Then he lifted it by the bottom to dump the contents onto the ground as if he didn’t care that it might have been full of the chicken lizards...

Apparently this wasn't anywhere near the fountain. In fact, if she recalled correctly, this was probably Hawksmoore's hell. Marianne scowled. How like a group of pirates to abandon them like this. She steeled herself for whatever horror of the jungle might have gotten itself into the preacher's bag.

A cool breeze rippled the tops of the trees, and ruffled their hair and clothes. The pirates were gone, as if they were never there.  The little lizard-squirrel scampered over to McCurdy's boot and sat on it, clinging to his ankle as if debating this as a mode of transport, or possible dinner.  Brother Clary and McCurdy went into the preacher's pack, and found that the old brown skull was actually squirming, as if trying to get out of the pack.  Once it faced the open air, the eye sockets blazed with a cool blue light.

From the wind, as it blew over the skull, came a hoarse whisper, English with a Spanish accent.  "You are in great peril !  Take me.  Throw me at the fountain !  And pray !"

And, as Marianne watched the tableau, of the two men and the talking skull, bony fingers wrapped around her neck.  Liza Waters, her eyes blank as death, was trying to throttle her !

Brother Clary looked down at the skull and then back to McCurdy.  When the PI's eye's met his, he he growled, "Go help Miss Trevors.  I'll take care of this!"

At this, he wheeled around and sprinted toward the fountain, the animated skull in his right hand, shotgun in his left.

McCurdy was already moving before Clary even finished. Without a thought for the fountain or the skull or the furry gecko, he was charging to help Marianne, the only thoughts running through his mind was that he wished he wasn't right all the time.

The detective scrambled to grab Liza from behind in a close hug, his hands grabbing her wrists and pulling...

McCurdy rushed to tussle with the strangely silent and deadly Liza Waters, grappling with the lady to try to prise her hands from Marianne's throat.  It was a struggle - the old lady was tougher than she looked, and Marianne was clearly choking.

Brother Clary rushed to the fountain, to dash the skull into it.  As soon as it hit, he saw, very clearly, that they were on the edge of a swamp, and the fountain was actually a bubbling pit of tar that would have meant their doom. The skull splashed down into the tar and the rest of the illusion was gone - and one of the very big lizards, taller than a three-storey building, was peering at them as if trying to figure out which one would be tastiest, first.  Its mouth was a study in ivory knives, though its forelegs were ridiculously small, waving in the air.  It was the long whiplike tail and the heavy hindlegs that it stood on that was the business part - that and the jawful of teeth.

McCurdy, spinning around as he wrestled, also saw this monstrosity.  They were indeed in grave peril.

The Texas preacher looked up in a horrified stupor for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only probably a handful of seconds.  "God help us all," he muttered, then tried to move to a position between the beast and the other three, all the while levering another shell into the chamber.  'Number four,' he thought to himself, noting that a long battle would requre him to reload at some point.

"McCurdy!" He shouted over his shoulder, never thaking his eyes off the monstrosity.  "How're ya doin'?  You're gonna have to git them outta here, pronto!"  He moved his shotgun into a position to fire as close to the gaping jaws as possible.

McCurdy let loose with a string of expletives that would most likely have made Marianne blush if she wasn't already turning red. Time was up!

With boxing speed, he jabbed a punch at Liza to knock her out and yelled at Brother Clary to put the tar pit between him and the dinosaur. Which is what he intended to do if he had any luck...

McCurdy swung at Liza, who didn't bat an eye as his fist connected with her dainty little jaw.  But the blow was enough to knock her loose from Marianne, and reel away, to collapse on the ground.

Both of the men were yelling, causing a momentary confusion in the giant predator, who gnashed its teeth and responded with a gut-shaking, carrion-breath roar of its own.  The little lizard-squirrel's hair was puffed out and it was chittering, but it quickly lost its nerve and clambered up onto McCurdy again, to hide inside his shirt.

Brother Clary fired right into the toothy maw of the monster, provoking a bellow, the creature shaking its head and spattering blood all over them.  It  gave them enough time to haul the gasping Marianne along, trying to skirt the tar pit and put some distance between them.  The ground was swampy, making running near impossible...but for a heavier creature, such as the monster starting after them, it was even worse footing.  The giant beast foundered at its first step, nearly toppling over.  And all the adventurers could see before them was more swamp...tricky terrain, stretches of black mud of unknown depths, and darkness.

GM:  Anyone trying to rescue Liza ?

Brother Clary shoved the staring, unresponsive Liza ahead of him and behind McCurdy and Marianne.  As he ran, he began to reload his shotgun.  'That was close,' he thought.  'Down to only two shells left.  Don't think I woulda had time...'

Letting McCurdy and Marianne take the lead, he moved Liza along, dividing his attention between her and their rear, to make sure they weren't being followed.



Me:  How's that?

Much as she wanted to just collapse and gulp in lungfuls of sweet air, through slightly blurry vision Marianne could make out the jawful of teeth with no problem. Pirates! If she had had to do this every forty years for centuries, she would certainly have found another way by now.

She stumbled along with the others, careful to stay well away from Liza and on the path, looking around for some indication of which direction they were supposed to go. Surrounded by mud, monsters, darkness and the stench of tar, how exactly was this supposed to be like heaven?

McCurdy pulled one pistol, but held off firing, favoring the option of running at the moment. It looked like he was the last to go so he put himself on the other side of the pit of tar, hoping carrion-breath would be stupid enough to try to run through it. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't.

McCurdy wasn't going to hang around to watch though. He was content to look over his shoulder as he ran for whatever it was they could run for...

Brother Clary dragged Liza along by the scruff of her dress, noting that impassivity of the woman's face.  She went, without complaint, and did not seem to be after Marianne anymore, or indeed aware of anything in particular.

The creature huffed at them, but backed off of the muck they were picking their way through.  Oddly enough, they noticed it had long dark stripes along its sides, in a pattern not unlike a tiger's, though its base colour was a reddish brown and the whole of it was scaly.  Then it picked up its head, looking to each side of the tar, and then ran off towards the left side, apparently going to try to cut them off on the other side.  It ran swift and sure as a bird, despite its great size, and the heavy footfalls shook the earth.

McCurdy hurried along, hopping from tussock to tussock, along with Marianne. It seemed all too easy to trip, or to make a fatal misstep, and he was not helped in his efforts thanks to the lizard-squirrel, who was struggling to get out of the shirt now.  Finally a button near his belly popped off, and the little animal stuck its head out, then bounded to the ground, such as it was.

It bounced ahead, strangely scaley and bristled tail flopping, and then sat down, looking back at them.  Then it leapt again, to another patch of grass, and sat down again, looking back.  It seemed to be leading them.

McCurdy's scaly little friend had saved her life so Marianne duly followed it, testing the ground underneath her foot and finding it firm. "Coming?" she asked McCurdy cheerfully.

McCurdy puddled along behind them all, glancing at Marianne once before concentrating on his footfalls. He looked ahead now and again to see if he could discern a pattern or path through the muck. All the while he tried to keep an eye on the tiger-striped dinosaur and the other on the ground.

"I reckon I'm hereabouts somewhere..."

Following the group, Brother Clary picked his way along the trail blazed by the squirrel-thing.  "Right behind you..."

The strange lizard-squirrel hopped along from tussock to tussock, apparently able to find sure footing in the muck and mire.  The humans, less agile and of heavier weight, found the footing a little less than desirable, but nonetheless they were making their way through the mess safely.

Then something in the thick ferns on the other side brayed loudly, like a very large basso donkey, and they saw a heavy thrashing in the ferns, as if something large was there.  Bursting from the ferns, straight into the mud and slime, were heavy-bodied things like green cows, their faces flared out at the ends into large dish-shaped bony structures, which were punctuated by several thick, slightly curving horns.  They had beaks and small yellow eyes, and were in a real panic, no doubt because something nasty had just arrived at the end of the swamp - the eyes were flashing and the beaks snapping.  Two of them immediately floundered into the mire and squalled in panic, while the rest of the small herd - two small creatures the size of donkeys and the others large as buffalo - tromped along, flailing horny feet, horns, and beaks in their haste to move along.  This wasn't so good for the three adventurers, who were directly in their path.  Their guide, the little squirrel-thing, screeched and bristled up.

GM: everyone - roll a d20 on the dieroller !

Marianne had just been waiting for the other shoe to drop, determined that next time she was being chased by some monster she would be ready. She quickly tried to dodge to avoid being trampled by the incoming traffic.