The Hun pilot had tied his seaplane to a stone carving of a very stylized cat; probably a jaguar, to judge from the teeth and claws.  He nodded to McCurdy in his amiable fashion.

The two pirates were next ashore, Hornsby looking notably relieved, though Hawksmoore was unperturbed - if a bit pale.  Liza Waters was helped onto the rough wooden dock by Hornsby, who also offered a hand to Marianne.  Ahead, through the thick emerald leaves and vines of jungle, through the steam rising from the sun's oppressive heat, some small huts could just be glimpsed.  A few steps further showed a village, whose inhabitants wore little by way of clothes.  They were small of stature and dark-skinned, with big brown eyes and cheerful white smiles, with their black hair combed straight and bound into carved wood and shell ornaments. What little clothing they wore - loincloths, mostly, for women and men, was brightly coloured.  Already a man with parrot feather jewellery was walking toward them, both hands raised, jabbering in a loud and musical language, to which Hornsby - and to his surprise, Liza Waters - responded, with waves of their own.

"Portuguese," Liza said, with a smile. "They're speaking Portuguese and they're friendly. I'll tell them we need travelling supplies.  This man is Geeya, he's apparently a businessman of sorts."
"As you wish, marm," Hornsby replied.  "Rope, dry manioc, waterskins and suchlike."  He  turned towards the heavy jungle behind the village, where the shadows seemed to thicken. "And spears, too, if he can spare any," he added, in a thoughtful manner.

In less than a hour, the required equipment was produced and paid for by a ring of Liza's, and the party was ready to move along a path cut by machete, up into the dark jungle.

McCurdy checked his weapons and ammunition. He didn't have much to waste so he looked for a machete and scabbard to use for utility as well as weapon. He wasn't sure what the primitives would have as far as useful supplies and he didn't really want to bother with it. Not until he knew how long they would be in the jungle.

"How long of a trip are we settin' out for?" he asked of Hawksmoore.

"It's not time as you know it," Hawksmoore replied, armed to the teeth as always, though the ammunition belt was now empty.

The troupe settled their gear, and headed towards the jungle, Hornsby leading.  Hawksmoore seemed perfectly accepting of his old Captain leading him, and even seemed somewhat cheerful.  Liza Waters, carrying a handsomely woven bag of supplies in addition to her pocketbook, followed Hornsby, and Marianne, Brother Clary and McCurdy were left to sort themselves out.  The deep emerald greens, the rich smell of loam and strange plants, and the cluckings of birds up in the treetops....it was as if they were stepping into another world.

The path had to be cut; in short order, Hornsby and Hawksmoore were using machetes to clear it, but there was definitely a path there, marked here and there by gleaming chunks of black stone.  They walked, and McCurdy noted that his watch wasn't reading the correct time; it read that it was noon.  A long time later, he read it again, and it was also noon.  They stopped to rest; it was still noon.

The jungle had enfolded them completely, though this didn't seem to trouble the two old pirates much.  At least, until Hawkmoore decided to gnaw on some meat jerky, and a bird whipped out of the trees and stole it from him, landing on a fallen trunk about fifteen feet away to eat the filched prize.  Hawksmoore cursed at it, and the bird snapped at him.  Its bill was lined with teeth, and its head was shaped like a lizard's, though the feathers were green and red like a parrot's.  There were little claws at the wrist of the bird's wings, claws that flexed as the bird hissed at Hawksmoore.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:20, Sun 04 Dec 2005.

Marianne followed along behind the two pirates, looking around with fascination. Her keen eyes didn't miss any detail. As the thick green foliage closed behind and around them, the sense of being in a story beyond all stories grew palpable.

The sight of a dinosaur-like bird creature snapping at Hawksmoore confirmed it, and brought a grin to her face. Anything could happen in this place, for good or for evil. The air was thick with possibility, and Marianne was very careful to keep the others in view and give the wildlife a wide berth.

Brother Clary's eyes narrowed grimly as he followed closely behind Hornsby and the youngster. He held his shotgun at a 'ready' position, as if half-expecting something to jump out at them in this steamy environment.

When they finally stopped for a moment, he carefully checked his magazine once again, loading new shells to ensure a full clip.  At the sight of the weird bird, he reflexively brought the shotgun to bear, but then relazed when he saw Hawksmoore wasn't in any danger.  He lowered his gun with a small grin.  "Looks ya made a friend, there, pardner."

McCurdy tapped his watch again for the second time and wondered at it. He knew it wasn’t broken.

Not time as you know it...

He narrowed his eyes at Hawksmoore as he recalled his words and it was at about the same moment the “bird” snatched his snack. McCurdy was no his feet, machete in hand, before he realized what he was doing. Instinctively he was looking around for more of the flying lizards with the sharp teeth. Seeing no others in the immediate vicinity seeking someone else for a snack, he turned back to look at it again. He slowly sat back down since no one else was going crackers over it, but he was still uncomfortable. Whether it was the bird or what it meant was not exactly clear.

“Anyone else find that thing... strange?”

Brother Clary tipped his hat back and regarded the Arkie PI for a moment.  "Brother, this whole trip has been strange.  Maybe I'm just a gittin' used to it all."

"Don't stray from the path," Hornsby said tersely, pausing to drink from his canteen. "Tis a creature of Gula, a creature of hers.  There are others...."
"Big ones with teeth," Hawksmoore said, still glaring at the marauding creature.

As if in answer to this comment, there was a sharp coughing cry far off in the darkness ahead of them, where the emerald heart of the jungle seemed to swallow all light, and a flock of the lizard-birds burst from the bushes and headed AWAY, at top speed.  The effect this had on the two pirates was immediate; both suddenly bristled with weapons.  There was a screech, and the sound of breaking greenery, far ahead, and then a sharp cry suddenly cut off.  Something had just met a sticky end.

"Haste, I think, boy," Hornsby said, and set off at a good rate of speed.  "Lest we become the next meal !"  Hawksmoore followed, but, to their surprise, paused to see that Liza Waters was going along at a good enough pace.  The little old lady seemed to be holding her own, and had kilted up her skirts to show a knobbly but firm knee and give her legs more ease of movement.  The machetes chopped, and they were heading down an incline, into some mists, the smell of loam and strange plants strong in the air.  Hooting cries and skittering sounds were heard in the overhead foliage, and McCurdy found himself staring back at a beady-eyed squirrel-creature, which was hanging upside down from a nearby branch.  It had a pattern of spots in black and grey, and also scales along the legs and long prehensile tail.

Another one, smaller, decided Brother Clary was scary and threw a half-eaten fruit at him, and then there was a general hail of fruit and leaves.  Marianne ducked and hurried along, only to suddenly receive a heavy weight on her head - one of the creatures had jumped onto her head and was clinging !
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:14, Thu 08 Dec 2005.

In one swift, smoth motion the black-clad Texas preacher levered a round into the chamber, and followed the example set by his "guides."



As they moved on, others could hear a faint muttering coming from Brother Clary, and they could just make out the words "through the valley of the shadow..."



"No thanks, I don't believe I'm hungry jest yet."

 

"Ma'am, it looks t'me like you might need a little assistance, there.  Or are you lookin' to take home a souvenir?"

Marianne unconsciously let out a shriek as the creature jumped onto her head, but quickly stifled it. They really couldn't draw any more attention than they already had. She glared at the preacher. "A squirrel-skin muff," she snapped, wincing as the creature held on. "Just get it off my head!"