ACTION, ADVENTURE, EXCITEMENT PART I - Ch. 2 From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/12 Cheron Fitzgerald wrote: >Lady Cheron quickly finishes repacking her first aid kit and slings >it backpack-fashion. Standing, she rummages through the many pockets >of her motorcycle jacket. "What have I got in my pocketses?" She >produces an assortment of kleenex, gum wrappers, knives, a >flashlight, . . . "Ah, here we go." From one pocket she takes a >largeish block of thermite, from another what looks to be assorted >hardware for making it go 'boom'. > >"Does anyone know how to use this? Safely?" she inquires. From >another pocket* she pulls her favorite "room broom", a Mossburg pump >action shotgun with pistol grip. Loading it with shells, she looks >at Xzerrion. > >"Ready, sir." Roland smiles at the group as they link up, Lady Cheron handing the thermite to someone experienced in sunch things (NOT Roland, BTW,) and vanish. "I'll wait for you folx for a few minutes, then start rocking the house. Good luck to us all, and may Phoenix and Light be with us." With that, Roland clenches his fist and feels the flight ring activate. /Wow...even TK flight isn't like this!/ He soars into the air, then begins counting. "178...179...180." Roland nods, smiles, and speads his hands. Rings of energy ripple outward from him, and the iron gate crumples in on itself. Then it begins making the rounds through the main wall, making several moderately-sized holes in the castle. "_Very_ not smart, mystery guest, going low-tech in a high-tech environment-" Roland heard the familiar *womp* of a solid object striking a forcefield. "Oh frag!" Roland cursed, immediately diving out of the sky. This turned out to be a singularly wise move, as the sky filled with both phaser and disruptor fire. He immediately set to work on destroying as many weapons as possible, but staying conscious was going to be hard enough. Roland landed well beyond the plain surrounding the fortress. He concentrated with ferocious intensity, his psychokinetic powers probing through the castle walls... "Bingo," he said with a tired smile, and the forcefield flickered and died. "Scratch one deflector," he said. And regretted it a moment later. Several shielded vehicles raced out of the building. "Well, looks like my distraction worked. Brilliant strategy, Roland," he thought as he flew away. /Time to lose these jokers, and meet up with the others. I only hope-/ ZARK /-that they're doing better than I am./ =========================== From: andral1@ro.com (AJ) Date: 1996/09/12 wargamer@patriot.net says... >Lady Cheron quickly finishes repacking her first aid kit and slings >it backpack-fashion. Standing, she rummages through the many pockets >of her motorcycle jacket. "What have I got in my pocketses?" She >produces an assortment of kleenex, gum wrappers, knives, a >flashlight, . . . "Ah, here we go." From one pocket she takes a >largeish block of thermite, from another what looks to be assorted >hardware for making it go 'boom'. > >"Does anyone know how to use this? Safely?" she inquires. From >another pocket* she pulls her favorite "room broom", a Mossburg pump >action shotgun with pistol grip. Loading it with shells, she looks at >Xzerrion. > >"Ready, sir." > >Lady Cheron (*yes, these may be trans-dimensional pockets. Do you >feel lucky enough to find out?) AJ shakes his head as Lady Cheron pulls hardware from her rather unusual pockets. "My lady, I don't know from Thermite, but if you happen to have an RPG in there I'm your man. Of course, I have a few fragmentation grenades of the manual sort." =========================== From: st951787@pip.cc.brandeis.edu (BEREK) Date: 1996/09/12 Paul Campbell writes: >Xzerrion unsheaths his sword and dagger, and takes a quick look >around. 'All right, let's do it. I have some skills at stealth and in >illusion. Might I suggest that we try to not make this a frontal >assault? I suspect we'll be seriously outnumbered. I can probly make >the whole lot of us invisible for a few minutes.' Wolfman, hearing this, stands and heads into the Folx room. He returns garbed in field plate battle armor, wielding a pair of especially deadly looking scimitars. His armor is polished to the point where all the patrons can see their reflections quite clearly. His demeanor has changed from its usual laid-back, take it as it comes attitude to one of grave concern and awe-inspiring confidence. As he dons his maginificent helm, he speaks: "I believe a distraction might be in order. Would a frontal assault on the castle by the holy army of Tyr suffice?" Without another word, the paladin walks out the door , headed for his horse. "For glory! For Asgard!" No Matter Where You Go, There You Are--Buckaroo Banzai WavBst@aol.com st951787@pip.cc.brandeis.edu =========================== From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/12 On 12 Sep 1996, Roland X wrote: > Several shielded vehicles raced out of the building. > "Well, looks like my distraction worked. Brilliant strategy, >Roland," he thought as he flew away. /Time to lose these jokers, and >meet up with the others. I only hope-/ ZARK /-that they're doing >better than I am./ 'Bloody hell!' Xzerrion pops into visibility momentarily. 'Well, there's the door those troops came from. How convenient, they left it open for us ...' Xzerrion pops his head around the corner, then ducks as a few missles fly out. 'Damn, who's got that thermite?' Swearing an oath strong enough to blister paint and any Bad Guys within 30 feet, he throws a glowing red-hot ball conjured out of thin air into the doorway, then drops flat seconds before the inevitable reaction between fire and high explosives. 'OK, everybody in!' The crowd rushes around the corner, seeing ... =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (thread 1) From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/12 On 10 Sep 1996, Roland X wrote: > Roland frowns at the Ferengi. "This...THING...tried to hurt >friends of mine. The worst thing about being immortal is watching >others die... Wake him up. All the way. I want to have a nice, _long_ >talk with him." Silence attempts to muffle a somewhat bloodthirsty grin. "As you like," she replies. "Just a moment... the beings on our side come first." She quickly anesthetizes and binds up the Stranger's arm, using generous amounts of Lady Cheron's salve and bandages and just a little magic. Then she turns back to the unconscious Ferengi. "Now that he can't move," she says, "there won't be much of a problem getting him all the way awake." She places her hands on the being's ultrasensitive ears, a single strand of her hair stretched between them and across his forehead. "Move back, everyone," she advises. "He may convulse a bit, and I'm going to be a bit rough here and don't want anyone catching the backlash. If you're at all telepathic, block out both him and myself as much as you can." And without further ado, she closes her eyes, assesses her energy levels, and drops about half of her upper reserves into a mental scream/shout/roar direct through the Ferengi's ears and into his pain centers. She watches calmly as his eyes snap open; his arms and legs go absolutely limp as he fights to break free from the seemingly flimsy bonds around his wrists and ankles and they neutralize his muscles. Eventually he gives up and glares at the people around him. His headache is almost visible; as an afterthought, Silence delicately removes the hair from his forehead and tucks it into her hood, and the echoes of her voice stop pouding into his mind. "Well, gentlemen," she says, standing up and dusting her hands, "he's all yours. If you need me, I'll be over helping Lady Cheron and making sure all those bodies are dead." She smiles. "You never did find someone to be the Good Cop, did you...." =========================== From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/13 On 12 Sep 1996, BEREK wrote: >Without another word, the paladin walks out the door , headed for >his horse. > > "For glory! For Asgard!" Absolutely. Xzerrion ducks the continual phaser fire, missles, and god knows what else from the fortress. 'Charge! House Ril'lyntar forever!' =========================== From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/14 Silence ties strands of her hair around the wrists of her companions, and hands each one three more to tuck into pockets. "Remember," she warns, "these silence your speech too. If you need to make noise or talk, snap off the one you're wearing and the effects will dissipate within a second or two. If you need to be silent again, tie on or hold one of the extras." She reaches into hidden pockets, and her hands emerge with two balanced-for-throwing daggers. "Ready when everyone else is," she says quietly. Shadow, fully rested and rejuvenated, stretches his wings and takes to the air. Circling once over the group, he goes invisible, his disembodied voice floating down. "I'll go find that back door I remember," he calls, "and see what scouting I can do inside. I'll meet up with all of you in the courtyard of the citadel, where most of the fighting is likely to be." "Do you have your bracelet?" Silence calls up. "Right here," responds Shadow's voice. "I'll put it on no-" and suddenly, his words cut off and his wings no longer make a sound as they cut through the air. No one can see or hear him, and so the group can only assume that he's on his way. Silence ties a strand of hair around her own wrist and takes hold of the rope. Time to play follow-the-leader.... =========================== From: glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) Date: 1996/09/14 Seosaidh and the Stranger move across the plain like ghosts, silent and unseen, they approach the Castle. Suddenly the air above them erupts with energy as RolandX begins his attack, tearing great holes in the walls. They spot one close enough to ground level to admit them and they are up and running across the sunbaked plain. Keeping low they move swiftly, like silent tigers. A sudden wrenching tear in the distance and the Castle lapses into clearer focus. "Their shield generator is down. time to rock and roll." they approach the gap in the wall, as vehicles race from the main gateway, but they are too insignificant to be noticed. The Stranger springs up into the gap, dropping onto his belly and surveying the courtyard ahead of him. Figures are running too nad fro. He's never seen such a mixed assortment of soldiers. there are Imperial Strmtroopers, Cardassians, Kzinti warriors, Azuriach Mech. Infantry, Samurai, Legionaries, Cuban mercenaries, Conquistadores, KGB border troops, and a dozen other varieties of dog soldier. All of them panicing and running to defensive positions covering the gate or running for the walls. Seosaidh joins the Stranger in the gap. "Look." The Stranger points to what is clearly a vehicle park. A fuel bowser is moving among the assorted vehicles. A scout walker moves away from it, heading for the gates. The Stranger hands Seosaidh a small electronic device. "It's a shield generatori, it wont stop swords, but it will protect you from bullets and most beams. If you start quietly eliminating their troops, I'll head for that fuel truck and make it go bang. waht do you say?" =========================== From: "Joseph H. Greene" Date: 1996/09/14 On 14 Sep 1996, Gareth L Owen wrote: >The Stranger points to what is clearly a vehicle park. A fuel bowser >is moving among the assorted vehicles. A scout walker moves away >from it, heading for the gates. "Bloody... I dinna ken what yon gr'at beastie is... but I dinna want ta argue wi' it up close, I'll tell ye that for vairtain..." >The Stranger hands Seosaidh a small electronic device. > >"It's a shield generatori, it wont stop swords, but it will protect >you from bullets and most beams. If you start quietly eliminating >their troops, I'll head for that fuel truck and make it go bang. waht >do you say?" "Aye! 'Tis like raiding cattle, only more fun!" Seosaidh places his dirk between his teeth and crawls away. He returns a few seconds later. Removing the dirk from his teeth, he holds up the shield generator. "Ah... laddie... how d'ye _start_ the damn' thing?" =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (thread 1) From: Linda or Robert Wilkinson Date: 1996/09/14 John W. Vinson wrote: >"Oh great Being, can you time-out some of the mayhem around here? >Take it easy on the Callahanian regulars... if you can tell the >difference!" > >There is an eerie and increasingly loud sound... > >tick tock tick tock Tick Tock Tick TOCK TICK TOCK... Just when the pressure had built again to the shrieking point, the sonorous voice speaks "It is not my venue to be gentle with the children of Earth. Time ravages all things." There is a millenium length pause of several seconds. "The artfull Wysard makes a request of me that I am not able to fulfill. This has not often happened." The sounds of the clock become maddeningly loud. "I must summon my brother, The Well Being." There is a silent *thhhhhumpf* and the pressure is gone. Everyone resumes breathing. =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (thread 1) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/15 grammarfascist wrote: >"Well, gentlemen," she says, standing up and dusting her hands, "he's >all yours. If you need me, I'll be over helping Lady Cheron and >making sure all those bodies are dead." She smiles. "You never did >find someone to be the Good Cop, did you...." "Humrgh-eh-wha-?" the Ferengi blinks, shakes his head-and regrets it-then comes fully awake. And swallows as he stares at all the steel pointing at him... "Hello, ugly," Roland says with a smile. "I'm Roland. You already know the Stranger, and the fellow with the sword the size of a starship-well, he's Seosaidh. Fun guy. Now, about this contract..." "You won't get anything out of me, huu-maan! I-" Shrdlunk stops as Roland's blade falls to rest lightly on his neck. "Shrdlunk, if it were up to me, I'd just take what we need from your mind and slit your throat. Stranger, however, seems to be carrying a grudge, and his claim on you takes precedence. You can talk to me...or to him. "Take your time." Evil grin. "You have five whole seconds with which to decide." -- Forget not the Earth-1 Flash, | With Barry Allen was his name. |apologies Bearer of the Silver Lightning, |to Keeper of the silver flame. |Mark Rein*Hagen =========================== From: glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) Date: 1996/09/15 Joseph H. Greene wrote: >"Aye! 'Tis like raiding cattle, only more fun!" > >Seosaidh places his dirk between his teeth and crawls away. The Stranger pulls a Fairbairn-Sykes dagger froma forearm sheath and surveys the ground ahead. >He returns a few seconds later. Removing the dirk from his teeth, he >holds up the shield generator. > >"Ah... laddie... how d'ye _start_ the damn' thing?" The Stranger smiles, reaches across and flicks a switch. The device hums into life, surrounding Seosaidh with a shimmering field. "It'll settle down in a second, then you wont be able to see it." "Good hunting." the Stranger places his dagger between his teeth and starts to crawl.... =========================== From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/15 On 15 Sep 1996, Gareth L Owen wrote: >the Stranger places his dagger between his teeth and starts to >crawl.... Seeing all this activity as cover is just too good an opportunity to pass up. Taking a break from spreading random mayhem, Xzerrion waves to Silence and Shadow (and any others who want to follow) and points to a door from which the groups of stormtroopers and other miscellaneous enemies have just come out. 'Hmm, they forgot to close the door behind them.' Fading into invisibility, he mutters, 'I'm heading inside to do some sabotage. Somebody cover my back.' =========================== From: andral1@ro.com (AJ) Date: 1996/09/15 silence@main.put.com says... >"Right here," responds Shadow's voice. "I'll put it on no-" and >suddenly, his words cut off and his wings no longer make a sound as >they cut through the air. No one can see or hear him, and so the >group can only assume that he's on his way. > >Silence ties a strand of hair around her own wrist and takes hold of >the rope. Time to play follow-the-leader.... AJ takes one of the extra hairs and ties it around the muzzle of his gun. He then says, " ". Realizing the futility of speech, he motions for his companions with firearms to "Silence" their weapons also. -- AJ (At last, a silence sub-machine gun in a non trivial calibre!) =========================== From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/16 Paul Campbell wrote: >Xzerrion pops his head around the corner, then ducks as a few >missles fly out. 'Damn, who's got that thermite?' Swearing an oath >strong enough to blister paint and any Bad Guys within 30 feet, he >throws a glowing red-hot ball conjured out of thin air into the >doorway, then drops flat seconds before the inevitable reaction >between fire and high explosives. 'OK, everybody in!' The crowd >rushes around the corner, seeing ... > > We'll catch up with Roland in a moment... ...the Callahanian Crusaders have taken to causing much havok in the avatar's fortress. glo@io.com (The Stranger) reported: >Figures are running too nad fro. He's never seen such a mixed >assortment of soldiers. there are Imperial Strmtroopers, Cardassians, >Kzinti warriors, Azuriach Mech. Infantry, Samurai, Legionaries, Cuban >mercenaries, Conquistadores, KGB border troops, and a dozen other >varieties of dog soldier. > >All of them panicing and running to defensive positions covering the >gate or running for the walls. As the heroes descend further into the chaos, furthering the chaos, a figure hidden in black robes...no, in darkness ITSELF...strides into the main field of the castle, and begins barking orders. Almost by sheer force of will, he manages to get the various cannon fodder to maintain something resembling order. One of the higher ranking officers, an Imperial by uniform, runs up to the figure-the avatar?-and the darkness slides off his head to reveal... ROLAND?!? "So, my 'brother' has made his move, has he?" Roland-Z frowns. "He's early. Damn. Roland is _never_ early. What form has he taken?" "He wears a uniform of purple and black, with four white circles on the chest and-" "-and a belt with a gold buckle, and an 'L' insignia," Roland-Z finishes. "Cosmic Boy. He's developing too fast." The dark figure-his eyes can be seen to be pools of night themselves-turns and begins to head back to the barracks and what seems to be, through the bars of various windows, a series of laboratories. "Send the Sentinels...no, they're too big, he'll make metal hash out of them." Then Roland-Z smiles. It is not even a remotely human smile. It is the smile of a predator. "He wants to play superhero? Fine. I think it's time to take out some of our...acquisitions from the ruins of that multiverse. Send out the Man-hunters!" The Imperial pales, but nods and bows. "As you command, sir." The Dark Roland looks up with a satisfied grin as a squad of crimson figures take to the air and fly out across the desert... Meanwhile, out in the field, Roland is learning some new tricks. SCKREEEUNCH "Whoa...didn't know I could do _that._" Roland stares, breathing hard, at the vehicle he just tore the engine out of. Through the forcefield. The other two vehicles race back to the castle, after a few menacing swipes with said engine. "There. *whew* Breathe, Roland, breathe...well, at least I'm keeping our friend busy." A golden staff lashes out, catching Roland squarely in the stomach. "Whoulf-" Roland flies back a few feet, landing upright (barely), and focuses on his attacker. "You have done well, immortal of Earth-Callahans, but you are our prey now, and-" "Don't say it-" Roland objects. "NO MAN ESCAPES THE MANHUNTERS!" Eleven warriors say as one. "Nuts." TBC... =========================== From: "Joseph H. Greene" Date: 1996/09/16 On 15 Sep 1996, Gareth L Owen wrote: >The Stranger smiles, reaches across and flicks a switch. The device >hums into life, surrounding Seosaidh with a shimmering field. Seosaidh breathes out a soft sigh of awe... >the Stranger places his dagger between his teeth and starts to >crawl.... Arriving at the entrance, Seosaidh peers around the edge. Sergeants are barking conflicting orders, and soldiers of all kinds are milling about in the confusion. Unnoticed, Seosaidh slips along the side wall, and into the shadows. Soldiers begin to realize that a ghost walks among them. A column of troops will suddenly discover that four or five of their number are missing... the four or five last men in the line. Panic spreads, especially when the body of an officer falls from a high wall to land with a splat in the courtyard. Slipping around a corner to avoid a platoon of stormtroopers, Sesoaidh, backing up, fails to notice the Klingon until he backs into him. He whips about with the dirk, but the Klingon was expecting this, and blocks the strike... and hits Seosaidh with a backhand swipe that sends him flying several feet to land with a thud. Seosaidh shakes his head. "Wha... na, Da', I dinna want tae gang tae church..." A second shake seems to clear his head a bit more and he is able to focus on the Klingon approaching with murder in his eyes, and a bat'leth in his hands. Seosaidh rolls out of the way, just as the wicked blades descend for his head. No time to draw the claymore; Singlestroke comes free of the sheath with a ringing sound that seems almost exultant. Quickly, Seosaidh gets to his feet. He levels his blade at the Klingon... "My worthy opponent..." then raises it to vertical in front of his eyes. "I salute thee..." The sword whips down across his body in a diagonal slash. "... and now ye shall DIE!" And he returns to guard. The Klingon growls, a rumble deep in his chest. "I am Kalenn, son of Kodor, son of Kran. I will feast upon your heart, human." Seosaidh grins, undaunted. "Well, noo, that's no' verra polite. Did ye learn yer manners frae the Sassenach, then?" The Kalenn blinks in momentary confusion. It's sounds like Standard. It looks like a human. But it seems to be speaking a language unknown to the universal translator. Taking advatnage of the momentary lapse, Seosaidh attacks. His blade licks in, quick as a striking snake... but Kalenn comes back just in time, and defelcts the blade. His counterratack is simply avoided, the riposte blocked with a ringing clash. They break apart. Kalenn... almost... smiles. "You are almost... worthy... to fight me, human." "Aye. An' ye seem as though ye might be worth teachin' to fight. Ye hae the potential. Dinna worry, lad... we'll turn ye into a warrior yet!" Kalenn laughs, a sound like a bull mastiff with a bad carburetor. "All right, Earthman. Tell me your name, that I may tell your widow when I come to claim her as my slave." "Well, noo... I dinna think ye'd want tae do that. But, ye tell them in hell, when ye get there, that Seosiadh MacFaoilcheire sends his regards, but I'm no' ready to take over the job yet. Have at ye, then!" Anyone entering the fortress will hear the ringing clash of blades, and upon entering the courtyard will see the two locked in a dance of death. Each evades the others strokes by a hairsbreadth, each manages to deflect the fatal stroke at the last moment. Two master bladesmen, unable to gain the upper hand. =========================== From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/16 Meanwhile, Xzerrion and Silence have managed to slip inside the fortress, with the assistance of some judicious use of magic. Tis handy to turn invisible every so often, but I'm running low on power. They have discovered a maze of corridors branching off left, right, and forward. 'Silence,' Xzerrion mutters, 'I hope you're keeping track of this place, because I'm lost.' Ignoring this minor difficulty, the intrepid scouts wander through the corridors and up staircases, in search of some of the leaders of this motley bunch, hoping that when the officers go down, the whole army will fall apart under it's own weight ... =========================== From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/16 On 15 Sep 1996, AJ wrote: >AJ takes one of the extra hairs and ties it around the muzzle of his >gun. He then says, " ". Realizing the futility of speech, he motions >for his companions with firearms to "Silence" their weapons also. Silence laughs--silently, of course--and grins at AJ in approval. Then she has a sudden thought and pulls off her own bracelet for a moment, whispering, "Everyone, slip the bracelets up under your sleeves. That way your clothes don't rustle. Another couple tied around your ankles to catch shoes and pants might be a good idea, if you want to go all the way. All I ask is that you not enbalden me to embolden yourselves!" She slips the bracelet back on--her clothes are silenced simply by touching her--and takes her place at the rope again. --Silence "Please," she said, "you're so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I'd sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else." --C.S. Lewis, _The Horse And His Boy_ =========================== From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/16 Shadow, invisible and soundless, wings his way around the back of the fortress. At last he finds the window--an arrow slit, really, and three stories up--with the broken lock. Holding his bracelet against the rusty metal to quiet it, he carefully pushes it open and squeezes through. Then he looks around, trying to remember how he got here in his desperate escape attempt of... was it only a day or two ago? Getting his bearings, he flies down the hall to avoid leaving pawprints in the dust. No one has been in this wing for years, perhaps centuries, and the passages behind the walls have long since been forgotten. Soon he is in the closet behind what was once a throne room and is now home to a council of war. A hoarse, too-familiar voice is giving terse orders on the other side of the wall. It sounds harried and nervous; the invaders are doing more damage than it had expected them to be able to. Shadow listens to assessments of breakage and can't help smiling when he hears about the utter decimation of the vehicles and their fueling tank. Eventually, he decides he's heard enough and starts to concentrate. Pressing his bracelet against the wall, he begins to quietly scratch at the place where two bricks are joined. Soon he's crumbled away enough mortar to see into the room. He already has an image in his mind, but he has to build it up carefully and internally.... The hall outside the room, he reasons, must be like any other hall in this part of the citadel. Painstakingly, he places larger-than-life images of the largest of his companions--the Stranger and that Scottish fellow whose name he can never spell right, with Roland X flying above them--in the hall, and then adds the last touch: a bolt of blue lightning seems to leave Roland's hand, just as the door smashes open. The images, as solid as he can make them, thunder into the room and begin laying about them with fists and weapons of the large and heavy sort. The K'therr is sweating heavily by now, coordinating all the damage as the people in the room distract him by shouting and running. The man in the throne sits stunned for a moment before coming to his senses. "You fools, they're illusions! Come back!" he roars. Shadow gasps in pain as the Adversary's avatar throws the full force of his mind against the image of Roland X, tearing it into shreds; he drops it just before the avatar can follow it back to his mind. Doing his best to set the other two "on automatic", he flees down through the maze of dusty corridors. For one terrifying moment, he thinks that he's lost... and then ahead of him is the window. Sacrificing stealth for speed, he dives through, losing some fur and a few feathers, and tears back to where he last saw the group.... But they're gone! They must have gone in without him. Did he take too long? Frantically, he picks up their trail and sees that it leads straight for the citadel. Pausing to lick at a few scratches--he emerged mercifully unscathed--he gathers his strength, reinforces his invisibility, and flies after them. =========================== From: Pixel@sprynet.com(TCWWTW) Date: 1996/09/17 Pixel rushes in amid the comfusion firing the spetsods at and watching each fall to the ground writhing as the toxins take effect. He than rushes through a cloud of dust and stops dead staring down the muzzle of a very large cannon. The rest of the tank is there as well to reenforce the image. Fortunatly the cannon doesn't fire as the tank's gunner is slumped across the entrance hatch with a throwing dagger protruding from his back. Pixel quickly pushes the creature out of the way and jumps down into the tank. Seating himself Pixel gazes at the miriad of controls and spies a button marked 'IGNITION' and presses it. A rocket shoots out of the tank turret and blows a hole in the wall of the courtyard. Some more searching locates a key on the dash, Pixel turns this and the engine rumbles to life. Chosing the largest lever Pixel shoves it around and with a horrible grinding of gears backs over a unit of stormtroopers that had been forming up behind the tank. "Ok, if that was revers e than THIS must be first!" Pixel mutters to himself and with a shudder the tank moves forward. Suddenly the tanks driver rushes from where he had been hiding and swings The Club(tm) antitheft device at Pixels head, With a deft movement Pixel manages to dodge the blow which strikes the dash board with amazing force, seriously damaging the controls. With a flick of the wrist Pixel disembowels th e man and turns back to the controls, after pushing and pulling at a few levers it becomes apparent that he can't bring the wildly careening tank under control. Pixel than climbs out the exit hatch, pulls the shotgun out of the shoulder hol ster and jumps off the back of the tank. The battle machine than swerves and slams into ,oddly enough, a Jiffy Pop delivery truck which is parked on one side of t he courtyard. Upon inpact the two vehicles burst into flames, and popcorn begins t o fly in every direction with a sound like machine gun fire. Pixel lands and surveys the wreckage. "Well I did create a diversion, though not the way I planned." This period of self congradulations is cut short by a group of footwarriors rushing, screaming towards him. Pixel manages to fire twice at the oncoming group killing several before they are upon him. He drops into a fighters crouch and prepares to defend himself, however the horde runs right past him not even slowing down! Pixel stares after them for a second, than whirls around to see where they came from, and there standing amid spralled bodies holding a gleaming sword with blood upon its edge is... Well who is it? This is a perfect time for someone to jump in and join the fray. Someone has to come up with something as I'm fresh out of ideas. =========================== From: glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) Date: 1996/09/17 The Stranger moves swiftly and purposefully around the edge of the courtyard, the fuel bowser he is stalking has stopped next to a T34 and is fuelling it. Unseen he slides undernesth it. Reaching down to his belt he grabs a magnetic mine and sets the fuse for two minutes, should be enough. He attaches it to the bottom of the tanker and rolls away, having armed it. Hre rolls to a crouch and heads over to a pair of speeder bikes. from behind him there is a . He freezes. "Hmmm" he says ".45 caliber, I'd say a M1911." "Very good." comes the reply. The Stranger looks at the dagger in his right hand. "I know what you're thinking" says the voice "trust me , even you aren't that fast. Drop it!" The Stranger drops the dagger and turns, his hands held out at his sides. The figure facing him regards the skull symbol on his chest. "You came as the Punisher, David, how appropriate." The Stranger looks at his foe, a tall, blonde man with close cropped hair. He wears black. A rapier hangs at his side and an MP-5 sits in a shoulder holster. His hand, however, holds an M1911 pistol which is pointed at The Strangers head. "You're dead." says the Stranger "I killed you." "I got better." "Neat trick, if you can do it." "Well you would know. Time to die, David." The Stranger glances past the figure facing him at the fuel bowser. "At least make it clean!" "Ha!" The figure lowers his muzzle to point at the Strangers stomach. The Stranger is thrown back by the impact of the two slugs, his hands clutching at his belly as he rolls under one of the speeder bikes. <> With a sound like angry thunder the world turns to fire. The fuel bowser dissappears in an instant and the Strangers enemy is thrown bodily through the air. Dust and smoke and noise fills the air for several seconds. With a the T34 explodes, throwing the turret into the sky. It clatters back to earth seconds later. Shielded by distance and his prone posture, the Stranger lies there. To be continued.... =========================== From: andral1@ro.com (AJ) Date: 1996/09/18 rwp200@is5.nyu.edu says... >Silence laughs--silently, of course--and grins at AJ in approval. >Then she has a sudden thought and pulls off her own bracelet for a >moment, whispering, "Everyone, slip the bracelets up under your >sleeves. That way your clothes don't rustle. Another couple tied >around your ankles to catch shoes and pants might be a good idea, if >you want to go all the way. All I ask is that you not enbalden me to >embolden yourselves!" She slips the bracelet back on--her clothes are >silenced simply by touching her--and takes her place at the rope >again. AJ looks around and sees that most of the group have finished their preparations and are looking about expectantly. He then motions to Silence to lead on. -- AJ (I have a cartoon type thought balloon of Al Bundy saying "Let's rock.") =========================== From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/18 On Mon, 16 Sep 1996, Paul Campbell wrote: >Meanwhile, Xzerrion and Silence have managed to slip inside the >fortress, with the assistance of some judicious use of magic. Tis >handy to turn invisible every so often, but I'm running low on power. >They have discovered a maze of corridors branching off left, right, >and forward. 'Silence,' Xzerrion mutters, 'I hope you're keeping >track of this place, because I'm lost.' Ignoring this minor >difficulty, the intrepid scouts wander through the corridors and up >staircases, in search of some of the leaders of this motley bunch, >hoping that when the officers go down, the whole army will fall apart >under it's own weight ... Silence looks somewhat alarmed. Touching the strand of her hair wrapped around Xzerrion's wrist, she sends, Xzerrion adjusts to the new method of communication and replies, Silence's voice is even, but her face shows a bit of her tension. She never gets to complete the suggestion, because just then one of the wall panels she's been tapping on gives way and falls outwards with a crash. On the other side are half a dozen armed guards, already aiming unfamiliar weapons at the startled adventurers. Silence goes into automatic defense mode; diving forward beneath the muzzles of what look like laser guns, she dispatches two with the daggers already in her hands. As a tiny springloaded knife drops into her right palm, her left tosses a handful of yellow powder into the face of the guard furthest from her. He inhales and his eyes suddenly widen in terror; firing blindly at something only he can see, he then turns and runs down the corridor the guards came from. Silence notes that he starts to turn right at the fork at the far end, just as a blast from Xzerrion's gun catches him in the back. The other guards have fallen at her companion's able hands. Professionally, Silence sinks the poisoned knife into each inert body before wiping it off, reanointing the blade, and slipping it carefully back into the wrist sheath. A fresh handful of the yellow powder goes in the emptied pocket of her left sleeve, and she ties the drawstrings tightly. "Well," she says calmly. "Shall we see where our friend down there was going?" =========================== From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/18 On Wed, 18 Sep 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >Professionally, Silence sinks the poisoned knife into each inert body >before wiping it off, reanointing the blade, and slipping it >carefully back into the wrist sheath. A fresh handful of the yellow >powder goes in the emptied pocket of her left sleeve, and she ties >the drawstrings tightly. >"Well," she says calmly. "Shall we see where our friend down there >was going?" After following more of a maze of corridors, Xzerrion and Silence discover a dead end. About to turn around and try another passage, Xzerrion pauses. asks Silence, frustrated by these endless passages. Xzerrion pokes and prods at the wall for a while, and eventually it slides upwards, revealing a hi-tech command center. 'We're under attack!' shouts one officer. 'No $#!+, but where are they?' reponds another, clearly panicking. Taking stock of the situation, Xzerrion sees about 20 ranking officers, and several stormtrooper guards. He takes a deep breath, marshalling his remaining magical resources, and conjures a cloud of fog into the room. Taking advantake of the confusion created, he draws his famed blades Frostbite and Cobra and starts cutting his way through the room. 'How do I get into these messes ... I *hate* melee combat!' Unfortunately, one officer has managed to push the Panic Button before either member of the assassination team can reach him. A hole opens in the ceiling, and dropping form the hole comes a huge reptilian critter, looking like a cross between a python and a giant worm, with very big, very sharp teeth. Silence replies. =========================== From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) Date: 1996/09/18 glo@io.com (Gareth L Owen) wrote: >With a the T34 explodes, throwing the turret into the sky. >It clatters back to earth seconds later. > >Shielded by distance and his prone posture, the Stranger lies there. > >To be continued.... Six crimson figures fly over the walls of the castle. Each carries another unconscious form; five carry their bretheren while their leader holds a limp Roland in his arms. Meanwhile, the duel between Seosaidh and the Klingon continues, and the scattered Callahanians continue to work the shadows. The castle's lord _owns_ the shadows. "Ah. Well done, my Manhunters. The others are now of little consequence, the Scotsman cannot last much longer, and the Stranger was kind enough to rid me of my one rival for the power, and gracious enough to die in the-" "NO!" Roland roars, and a powerful PK pulse scatters the Manhunters. "STRANGER!" "Ah, emotional as ever, my brother." The darkness almost seems to smile, then the 'hood' fades away, once again revealing Roland's mirror image. Roland fumes for a moment- "You're not my-" then stops and recoils. "Holy mother of Light...it's not possible..." "Hello, 'brother.' It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh at last." "No. It's not possible." The firefight continues, Roland X barely managing to divert sniper fire away from his friends as his dark counterpart stares back impassively. "I _accepted_ my dark side. Long ago." "Most of it, Roland...your rage, your pain, your frustration... you reclaimed all of these things. But you forgot something. The most 'villainous' trait, in your own mind. "Your HUNGER. The eternal need for more. You stagnate without me, Roland." Roland-Z smiled at last. "Liar!" Roland roared. "I have made myself into the man I want to be! You aren't hunger, impostor-you're greed and envy! You're a shadow puppet, dancing on the Adversary's strings!" Roland-Z frowned at the last part. "That is what he-" he began, waving contemptuously at where the Stranger's nemesis had been, "-said of me. That you would reclaim me, ending my existence. None of them think that I have what it takes. In that, at least, we are alike." Roland X glared at his counterpart. "Now what?" "What else?" Roland-Z smiled again, with eyes and teeth as dark as the void. "You get to die a hero!" The six remaining Manhunters moved back into position. "I, of course, will then be able to claim your body, your power, MY birthright...yours will be the mind that is devoured, not mine. And at last...at LAST...I will be the power that we have _both_ always dreamed of being!" "Maybe." The tendrils of darkness that had been slithering out from the Dark Roland's form were slashed away by beams of light. Roland-Z's eyes widened in shock. "Maybe not." "Your body is immortal, psilord, but your mind is like any other! I will erase your very thoughts and claim what is-" "What is mine." Roland's sword slid from its place in his belt. "I won't kill your Manhunters, 'brother,' at least not the ones that are alive. But you...you're going back where you belong." "I think not." A field of dark energy shaped itself into an enormous blade. "I bear the power of the Adversary." "Only the smallest drop of it. And that's not enough to keep you going. You _know_ we must be rejoined, one way or another." Roland's eyes glinted with unearthly light. The swords clashed into one another, and with a wordless cry, Roland-Z and his Manhunters attacked... TBC, natch -- Forget not the Earth-1 Flash, | With Roland X: Barry Allen was his name. |apologies Freelance Immortal Bearer of the Silver Lightning, |to Earth-1 version Keeper of the silver flame. |Mark Rein*Hagen (/) =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (thread 1) From: BetNoir Date: 1996/09/18 Roland X wrote: > "Shrdlunk, if it were up to me, I'd just take what we need from >your mind and slit your throat. Stranger, however, seems to be >carrying a grudge, and his claim on you takes precedence. You can >talk to me...or to him. > "Take your time." Evil grin. "You have five whole seconds with >which to decide." The Pirate Queen shakes her head....NEVER leave an Immortal to do a woman's job, particularly when it comes to interrogations. She leans down next to the Ferengi's head (giving both him and Roland a nice view of her cleavage)....."Sweets, we can do this my way, or his...and I guarantee you mine is at least a bit more pleasant" The Ferengi grimaces...."Why should I trust a huu-man female, particularly one so...so....clothed?" The Pirate Queen uncoils the cat-o-nine tails hanging from her belt and winks at Roland..."Just don't let him squirm around TOO much, 'k?" She then proceeds to lightly brush the tip of the whip against the Ferengi's very sensitive ears, eliciting shudders...."Now, be a GOOD ugly alien and tell me where your power supply is in the castle. If you do so, I won't have to show you what this huu-man device can REALLY do to those tender ears of yours. Unless of course, you would LIKE that...?" The Ferengi swallows hard and hisses "Never! Not even for a huu-man temptress like you!" The Pirate Queen stands up, and cracks the whip hard....missing the Ferengi's ears by about a half-inch...."Care to rethink that one, Sweets?" By now, the Ferengi has passed out again, but not before muttering one word..."...catacombs...." "Well, boys, you heard it first here! I think our target is UNDERNEATH that ugly pile o' rocks...." "Silence, he's all yours - I got what I wanted..." =========================== From: ladycheron@aol.com (LadyCheron) Date: 1996/09/19 > Pixel lands and surveys the wreckage. "Well I did create a >diversion, though not the way I planned." This period of self >congradulations is cut short by a group of footwarriors rushing, >screaming towards him. Pixel manages to fire twice at the oncoming >group killing several before they are upon him. He dropsinto a >fighters crouch and prepares to defend himself, however the horde >runs right past him not even slowing down! Pixel stares after them >for a second, than whirls around to see where they came from, and >there standing amid spralled bodies holding a gleaming sword with >blood upon its edge is... . . .is Lady Cheron. The gleam in her eye is unmistakable--glee and blood lust, in equal parts. "I haven't had so much fun in ages," she chortles. "Just look at this _wonderful_ blade I picked up." Taking advantage of the lull in the action, she stoops and wipes the blade on the clothing of one of the dead nasties. "Pixel, how nice to meet up with you. I understand Xzerrion and Silence went to scout the castle, and left us to take care of the small fry. Shall we go see what kind of trouble we can cause?" She grins again, and gestures toward a knot of combatants near the east wing. "Maybe over there? "Oh, and by the way, do you have any more shells for this?" she gestures at the shotgun slung on her back. "I kind of ran out. It takes 12 gauge, and I'd been using high-brass riot rounds--it seemed appropriate." =========================== Subject: Re: Action, Adventure, Excitement (thread 1) From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/19 On Wed, 18 Sep 1996, BetNoir wrote: >By now, the Ferengi has passed out again, but not before muttering >one word..."...catacombs...." > >"Well, boys, you heard it first here! I think our target is >UNDERNEATH that ugly pile o' rocks...." > >"Silence, he's all yours - I got what I wanted..." Silence shrugs. "I'm not the one who wanted to rip him into tiny pieces," she points out mildly. "I can wake him up again, of course, if anyone wants more information." She thinks for a moment. "Actually, I have an even better idea. Why don't we take him with us? That way we'll have a guide and a hostage in one--a real two-for-one bargain." She nudges the Ferengi distastefully with the toe of one newly dusty boot. "Hey, Twofer! How's that sound to you?" The Ferengi, slowly coming around, blinks at her and attempts a snarl. "My name is Shrdlunk, huu-man," he says, in a voice that was probably meant to be threatening but comes across as rather pathetically defensive. "Not anymore, it's not," she replies with a sweet smile. "Or would you rather we got even more descriptive and called you something like--" and she spits out a fourteen-syllable word in the Ferengi language. (An approximate translation is "Earless Snivelling Worm With Negative Earning Earning Abilities And A Debt Three Times As Large As Your Brain Is Small And Your Klingon Lover Ugly", though that doesn't really convey the virulence.) The creature turns several lovely shades of purple. She reaches down, touches ths ankle restraints briefly to tell them to relax enough to let him gain his balance, and hauls the newly-named Twofer to his feet by one ear. He shrieks as her fingernails dig in, and hurriedly struggles to stand. "You have nowhere to run to, and even if you did, you can't run. Your men are all dead. Would you rather we left you out here, or took you with us?" She looks around the bleak, bloodstained landscape; it's getting dark, and some of the bolder scavengers--all of which look _really_ unpleasant and hungry--have already ventured towards the various carcasses lying around. "I suspect you want to be as cooperative as you can. "Oh, by the way," she adds, and suddenly slaps him twice across the face, her nails drawing four parallel streaks of blood on his cheeks. "Just a reminder: I'm about as human as you are. I have absolutely no problem with killing you very slowly and painfully in cold blood. So you will _never_, _ever_ threaten a friend of mine or a friend of one of my friends, because even a hint of the possibility of harm coming to someone I care about means that I will hunt you down. Make no mistake; you can't hide from me. Your ears are large, but mine are everywhere, and I will be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life." The prisoner can hear the truth in her voice and see it in her eyes; his own eyes are wide with terror, and his knees are shaking so much that he looks ready to fall down again. "This is not the first time I've said this, as I'm sure you can tell. I had to make good on it once--which I did, very very precisely--and I will do it again if I need to. I would take pleasure in your death, believe me; the only reason you're not in a thousand quivering pieces right now is because, first of all, these gentlemen have first dibs on you, and second of all, you're more useful alive. You had better start wanting to be useful, though, because if you become uncooperative, my hands will start itching for my knives. Do you understand me?" Her voice doesn't change volume, but her last four words echo in the Ferengi's mind like the thunder of God. He nods. Several times. Frantically. "Good. Lead the way. I wouldn't advise trying to lead us astray, either. If we come across another bunch of ill-trained ill-fed mangy grunts like the ones we just dispatched, it will _not_ go well for you after we finish killing them." She then calmly turns her back on the prisoner and her somewhat startled companions and begins to scavenge the bodies for valuables and weapons. "I expect you won't have any problems getting directions out of him now," she calls over her shoulder. "The natives are getting hungry, and I'd like to start moving before nightfall. Anyone have other plans?" =========================== From: Pixel@sprynet.com(TCWWTW) Date: 1996/09/20 >ladycheron@aol.com (LadyCheron) writes: >"Oh, and by the way, do you have any more shells for this?" she >gestures at the shotgun slung on her back. "I kind of ran out. It >takes 12 gauge, and I'd been using high-brass riot rounds--it seemed >appropriate." Pixel is overjoyed to see that Lady Cheron is here. he underhands her a box of shells, and says. "Sorry all I have is plain double-ought buckshot I'm not wasting high priced rounds on these guys. Shall we see what is so enthralling to those guys over there,all of them are yelling and shouting but the only signs of actual combat are a series of resounding clangs from the center of the group." With that Pixel begins to jog over to the east wing Lady Cheron beside him loading on the run. As they pass the merrily burning Jiffy Pop truck he stoops to scoop up a handful of popcorn. "I like this, a battle with a snack bar." The step gingerly over a puddle of very flat stormtroopers and reach the knot of enemys. None of them has reacted to (nor even noticed) there arival. Now that they have gotten closer the can here ocational coments in Seosaidh's unmistakable accent and the rasp of a Klingon. Pixel than turns to Lady Cheron. "It's up to you would you like to get to the center of this or just thin the croud out from the edges?" Pixel than stands there munching popcorn and sratching a yellow SOLD sticker that had appeared on his forhead during the preciding mele. =========================== From: grammarfascist Date: 1996/09/20 On Wed, 18 Sep 1996, Paul Campbell wrote: >Taking stock of the situation, Xzerrion sees about 20 ranking >officers, and several stormtrooper guards. He takes a deep breath, >marshalling his remaining magical resources, and conjures a cloud of >fog into the room. Taking advantake of the confusion created, he >draws his famed blades Frostbite and Cobra and starts cutting his >way through the room. > >'How do I get into these messes ... I *hate* melee combat!' Silence carefully places her hands on her companion's shoulders, very careful not to hamper the movement of his arms, and pushes through a fair amount of energy. There's no time for finesse, but he's only startled for a minute. Then he begins the attack with renewed energy as the fog grows even thicker. Silence says calmly. Xzerrion looks a bit askance at her, but does as she requests. Even without the invisibility, she seems to fade like a wraith into the fog. > Silence replies. > > Silence unslings a laser gun taken from one of the guards in the other passageway and checks the charge. she pauses to nick the throat of a guard who came too close, and he shudders and keels over as the poison hits him <--get rid of enough of these guards to be able to concentrate on burning a few holes in it. Aim for the mouth when it's open, but be careful: those teeth will probably reflect back anything that hits them. Stabbing it through the eyes might do it, too; the brain is right behind them and a little up. And let's see whether this has any effect.> Tucking the gun under her arm and offing another couple of guards, she pulls a small pouch out of one pocket and a vial out of another. Very carefully, she cuts a slit in the pouch and then pulls the cork from the vial with her teeth. she mutters. She holds her breath and pours the contents of the vial--a few drops of really disgusting viscous green liquid--into the pouch; the powder inside immediately begins to bubble in a very unpleasant way. Counting under her breath, she suddenly hauls back, glad for the aiming practice she's gotten from all those glasses into the fireplace, and hurls the fuming packet straight into the Drashig's open mouth. One guard caught by the fumes clutches at his throat and chokes, falling over and convulsing. The Drashig instinctively swallows. she estimates. She draws her sword, which absorbs what little light is left in her vicinity, and begins methodically dispatching guards. =========================== From: Paul Campbell Date: 1996/09/20 On Fri, 20 Sep 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >Let me see what I can do....> Silence carefully places her hands on >her companion's shoulders, very careful not to hamper the movement >of his arms, and pushes through a fair amount of energy. There's no >time for finesse, but he's only startled for a minute. Then he >begins the attack with renewed energy as the fog grows even thicker. >Silence unslings a laser gun taken from one of the guards in the >other passageway and checks the charge. >she pauses to nick the throat of a guard who came too close, and he >shudders and keels over as the poison hits him <--get rid of enough >of these guards to be able to concentrate on burning a few holes in >it. Aim for the mouth when it's open, but be careful: those teeth >will probably reflect back anything that hits them. Stabbing it >through the eyes might do it, too; the brain is right behind them >and a little up. And let's see whether this has any effect.> Tucking >the gun under her arm and offing another couple of guards, she pulls >a small pouch out of one pocket and a vial out of another. Very >carefully, she cuts a slit in the pouch and then pulls the cork from >the vial with her teeth. she mutters. _very, very_ careful not to breathe any of these fumes.> Xzerrion tries working with her suggestion, and pulls the disruptor off his belt that he picked up a while back. He raises the disruptor to his shoulder and fires, neatly singing his hair and one ear. He grimaces, reverses it, and tries again, this time doing somewhat better. Taking careful aim, he shoots out both of the critter's eyes, since he saw it was mostly relying on vision to track them down. >stomach,> she estimates. very angry, though. Be prepared.> She draws her sword, which absorbs >what little light is left in her vicinity, and begins methodically >dispatching guards. The Drashig roars *really* loud at this and starts thrashing around the control room, causing more havoc in its blind rage and pain than Xzerrion or Silence could possibly accomplish on their own.