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Barsoom Tales I - COMPLETE
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<blockquote data-quote="barsoomcore" data-source="post: 899643" data-attributes="member: 812"><p><strong>It's Good To Be Home</strong></p><p></p><p>Rain drilled into the soggy plain. The clouds hung low and grey and still.</p><p></p><p>Elena stepped in front of her friends, brandishing a huge greatsword that towered far above her head. Her feet sought steady footing in the ankle-deep mud. Behind her, a steady fire of muskets and pistols kept a giant four-armed monstrosity at bay.</p><p></p><p>What looked like a six-year-old Kishak girl stomped towards her, dull hunger in her eyes. Elena tightened her grip and thought about a whole lot of dead people. She could see bodies strewn all over the meadow. At least a hundred people had died here, just in the last few seconds. Under the steady thunder of the rain she could hear voices calling out in agony, wounded, lying in muck and blood.</p><p></p><p>Something about this scene gave Elena inspiration. She watched the little girl plod steadily up the hill. Behind her Elena's friends gathered close, all silent as they watched this monster, this creature that had just devoured hundred before their eyes, approach.</p><p></p><p>Arrafin had recovered and clung to Aubrey, unable to keep her footing in the slick mud. The Pavairellean bravo kept an arm around her thin waist as his eyes flicked back and forth between the little girl and the huge monster off to the right, still staggering about in a blind rage, unable to approach their hilltop.</p><p></p><p>Nevid held the staff he'd retrieved from the caverns, its three feathers now soggy and draggling down. He saw Elena, her faith in the sword evident, and held the staff inexpertly in front of him, like a sailor pushing off from a wharf.</p><p></p><p>Philip helped Michel loading guns for Boyce and Nervaine, keeping one eye on the approaching girl and Elena standing before her, that ridiculously huge sword wavering in the rain.</p><p></p><p>Elena stood very still. There was no doubt in her mind that Mara would come to her. Their eyes met and the Saijadani woman shuddered at the emptiness there. She found herself trying to gauge distances and forced herself to stop. Instinct. Elena was no duelist. She'd had no more than a lesson or two with a sword. She wasn't Aubrey or Philip, she had no skill or talent for this. She had to go on instinct.</p><p></p><p>Instinct let her down. The little red-skinned child charged, moving in a blur, inside the arc of Elena's over-sized blade before it could fall. Elena felt teeth dig into her stomach and a small hand push her thigh up. Bone snapped and Elena screamed as she crashed to the ground, the horrid squealing of the vampire child as it swarmed up her body all around. Her arms flailed and she struggled desperately to keep the little girl at bay, both of them covered in mud.</p><p></p><p>The black sword spiralled up into the air and plunged down pointfirst to stab into the muck. Elena saw it hit and reached out for it, but the little girl on top of her sank her teeth into Elena's throat and the Saijadani woman felt hot blood spray across her reaching arm.</p><p></p><p>Aubrey saw the sword hit the ground and left Arrafin's side, sprinting forward to wrap both hands around the yard-long hilt. With a great heave he hauled the blade free and whirled it over his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Philip charging in to help, and with a quick memory of the cherry trees along Duelists' Street in his mind he chopped downwards with all his strength, hoping he wouldn't cut Elena in half at the same time.</p><p></p><p>He didn't.</p><p></p><p>Instead, Aubrey recoiled in shock as a snarling, blood-covered six-year-old lunged at his face. The sword flew from his hand as she grabbed his wrist and bit savagely. Aubrey yelled and staggered backward, flailing, trying desperately to rip her from his arm. Her strength was terrifying and Aubrey felt her powerful jaws close on his wrist. All he could think of was losing his hand and the horror of that bloody stump.</p><p></p><p>Philip turned to see Aubrey falling backwards, the little Kishak girl clamped to his arm. Arrafin had fallen to her knees and crawled towards Elena, rummaging frantically for something to stop the bleeding, crying so hard she could barely move. Nevid was nowhere to be seen. Elena kicked in the mud, cursing in pain, and smacked Arrafin when the Naridic girl came close. The hungry grunting of the little girl filled Philip with horror.</p><p></p><p>The sword lay in the mud nearby. Philip grabbed it up just as Aubrey managed to tear the little vampire thing loose from his wrist. With a guttural roar he hurled her up into the air. Philip flashed on games of stickball with the other caravan youths as he cranked that massive black blade around.</p><p></p><p>The girl's shriek as the blade caught her in mid-section was that of a frustrated child denied some trinket. A sickening gout of blood exploded as Philip cut her right in half. The momentum of the huge weapon made him stumble backwards, panting, eyes wide, looking everywhere for the wee monster.</p><p></p><p>She was gone. Philip let the tip of the sword drop to the ground and leaned on it.</p><p></p><p>"Hey, come back!" </p><p></p><p>Boyce yelled curses after the retreating monster. He and his two companions put down their guns and surveyed the battlefield.</p><p></p><p>"What a mess."</p><p></p><p>Philip growled. He was too tired to find words. He watched dully as Arrafin bandaged a calmer Elena and as Aubrey got to his feet, clutching his wrist and staring about himself. The great big white monster seemed to have lost interest as soon as the little girl disappeared.</p><p></p><p>The rain kept drilling down. The clouds still hung, low and dark and grey. They were alone, surrounded by bodies.</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>Gupta got the stories in pieces, in confused cries and broken Imperial Kishak.</p><p></p><p>There'd been a disaster of some kind in Chimney, that much was clear. If what these Yshakans were saying was true, they were the only survivors of the mountain village. Monsters and little Kishak girls and whatnot. Gupta made sure the shutters were locked tight, and he and his son, Arup, loaded their Saijadani muskets and sat up in the great hall where the refugees slept, wet and frightened and hungry. His daughter kept the stove going, brewing soup for the new arrivals. Children cried, worn out and many of them missing their parents.</p><p></p><p>The pounding on the door startled him and he almost discharged his weapon into the ceiling. He and Arup exchanged glances and made their way to the oaken door.</p><p></p><p>"Yes?"</p><p></p><p>"Master Gupta, do you remember us? Caravan guards from the del Maraviez, we went up to Chimney a couple of weeks ago."</p><p></p><p>He did remember them. Not the usual caravan guards, this group. Not with that skinny girl and timid young man with them.</p><p></p><p>Gupta opened the door. It was still pouring outside, and water glittered on the broad-rimmed hat of the Saijadani standing there at the head of the group. Behind him, the rest of the group, battered, exhausted, bleeding, frightened, frustrated, and hungry. They stumbled into the welcome heat and dryness of the inn, crashed down at a table and stared at each other.</p><p></p><p>Boyce took out a gem-encrusted necklace and tossed it at Elena.</p><p></p><p>"Compliments of the King of Bayonne."</p><p></p><p>Blank looks replaced blank looks as everyone turned to the grinning scoundrel. He and his companions stood up and Boyce saluted, still grinning.</p><p></p><p>"We're off to deliver the rest of these goodies to our liege."</p><p></p><p>Philip's mouth dropped open.</p><p></p><p>"What did you think, I was just a thief?"</p><p></p><p>"Well, you are."</p><p></p><p>"True. But a thief with a cause. If you lot are ever in Bayonne, look me up. It's been fun."</p><p></p><p>The three Gap rogues strode out into the rain. Everyone stared.</p><p></p><p>Then jumped as a stick came out of nowhere and clouted Ilonka hard across the back of her head.</p><p></p><p>"Bad! Bad! Bad!"</p><p></p><p>Philip fended Atranztipac off as Aubrey checked to see Ilonka was not badly hurt. The Pavairellean woman glared at the Yshakan child for two seconds, then burst into tears. Uncertain, Atranztipac dropped the stick. Her belligerent expression softened and then she too began crying.</p><p></p><p>Elena looked over at the two dozen Yshakans huddled around the fireplace. She thought of the hundreds of people who had once lived in Chimney. Now bodies scattered across muddy fields. A hot bowl of soup appeared in front of her as Gupta's daughters served them. Her friends ate mechanically, unable to meet each other's eyes.</p><p></p><p>"There is a letter for you, my friends."</p><p></p><p>Gupta laid a sealed envelope on the table. The wax bore the crest of Isabella del Maraviez. Their boss. The woman who had sent them to Chimney to investigate the drop in silver production. Now she had some other task for them.</p><p></p><p>Nobody opened it.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="barsoomcore, post: 899643, member: 812"] [b]It's Good To Be Home[/b] Rain drilled into the soggy plain. The clouds hung low and grey and still. Elena stepped in front of her friends, brandishing a huge greatsword that towered far above her head. Her feet sought steady footing in the ankle-deep mud. Behind her, a steady fire of muskets and pistols kept a giant four-armed monstrosity at bay. What looked like a six-year-old Kishak girl stomped towards her, dull hunger in her eyes. Elena tightened her grip and thought about a whole lot of dead people. She could see bodies strewn all over the meadow. At least a hundred people had died here, just in the last few seconds. Under the steady thunder of the rain she could hear voices calling out in agony, wounded, lying in muck and blood. Something about this scene gave Elena inspiration. She watched the little girl plod steadily up the hill. Behind her Elena's friends gathered close, all silent as they watched this monster, this creature that had just devoured hundred before their eyes, approach. Arrafin had recovered and clung to Aubrey, unable to keep her footing in the slick mud. The Pavairellean bravo kept an arm around her thin waist as his eyes flicked back and forth between the little girl and the huge monster off to the right, still staggering about in a blind rage, unable to approach their hilltop. Nevid held the staff he'd retrieved from the caverns, its three feathers now soggy and draggling down. He saw Elena, her faith in the sword evident, and held the staff inexpertly in front of him, like a sailor pushing off from a wharf. Philip helped Michel loading guns for Boyce and Nervaine, keeping one eye on the approaching girl and Elena standing before her, that ridiculously huge sword wavering in the rain. Elena stood very still. There was no doubt in her mind that Mara would come to her. Their eyes met and the Saijadani woman shuddered at the emptiness there. She found herself trying to gauge distances and forced herself to stop. Instinct. Elena was no duelist. She'd had no more than a lesson or two with a sword. She wasn't Aubrey or Philip, she had no skill or talent for this. She had to go on instinct. Instinct let her down. The little red-skinned child charged, moving in a blur, inside the arc of Elena's over-sized blade before it could fall. Elena felt teeth dig into her stomach and a small hand push her thigh up. Bone snapped and Elena screamed as she crashed to the ground, the horrid squealing of the vampire child as it swarmed up her body all around. Her arms flailed and she struggled desperately to keep the little girl at bay, both of them covered in mud. The black sword spiralled up into the air and plunged down pointfirst to stab into the muck. Elena saw it hit and reached out for it, but the little girl on top of her sank her teeth into Elena's throat and the Saijadani woman felt hot blood spray across her reaching arm. Aubrey saw the sword hit the ground and left Arrafin's side, sprinting forward to wrap both hands around the yard-long hilt. With a great heave he hauled the blade free and whirled it over his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Philip charging in to help, and with a quick memory of the cherry trees along Duelists' Street in his mind he chopped downwards with all his strength, hoping he wouldn't cut Elena in half at the same time. He didn't. Instead, Aubrey recoiled in shock as a snarling, blood-covered six-year-old lunged at his face. The sword flew from his hand as she grabbed his wrist and bit savagely. Aubrey yelled and staggered backward, flailing, trying desperately to rip her from his arm. Her strength was terrifying and Aubrey felt her powerful jaws close on his wrist. All he could think of was losing his hand and the horror of that bloody stump. Philip turned to see Aubrey falling backwards, the little Kishak girl clamped to his arm. Arrafin had fallen to her knees and crawled towards Elena, rummaging frantically for something to stop the bleeding, crying so hard she could barely move. Nevid was nowhere to be seen. Elena kicked in the mud, cursing in pain, and smacked Arrafin when the Naridic girl came close. The hungry grunting of the little girl filled Philip with horror. The sword lay in the mud nearby. Philip grabbed it up just as Aubrey managed to tear the little vampire thing loose from his wrist. With a guttural roar he hurled her up into the air. Philip flashed on games of stickball with the other caravan youths as he cranked that massive black blade around. The girl's shriek as the blade caught her in mid-section was that of a frustrated child denied some trinket. A sickening gout of blood exploded as Philip cut her right in half. The momentum of the huge weapon made him stumble backwards, panting, eyes wide, looking everywhere for the wee monster. She was gone. Philip let the tip of the sword drop to the ground and leaned on it. "Hey, come back!" Boyce yelled curses after the retreating monster. He and his two companions put down their guns and surveyed the battlefield. "What a mess." Philip growled. He was too tired to find words. He watched dully as Arrafin bandaged a calmer Elena and as Aubrey got to his feet, clutching his wrist and staring about himself. The great big white monster seemed to have lost interest as soon as the little girl disappeared. The rain kept drilling down. The clouds still hung, low and dark and grey. They were alone, surrounded by bodies. ***** Gupta got the stories in pieces, in confused cries and broken Imperial Kishak. There'd been a disaster of some kind in Chimney, that much was clear. If what these Yshakans were saying was true, they were the only survivors of the mountain village. Monsters and little Kishak girls and whatnot. Gupta made sure the shutters were locked tight, and he and his son, Arup, loaded their Saijadani muskets and sat up in the great hall where the refugees slept, wet and frightened and hungry. His daughter kept the stove going, brewing soup for the new arrivals. Children cried, worn out and many of them missing their parents. The pounding on the door startled him and he almost discharged his weapon into the ceiling. He and Arup exchanged glances and made their way to the oaken door. "Yes?" "Master Gupta, do you remember us? Caravan guards from the del Maraviez, we went up to Chimney a couple of weeks ago." He did remember them. Not the usual caravan guards, this group. Not with that skinny girl and timid young man with them. Gupta opened the door. It was still pouring outside, and water glittered on the broad-rimmed hat of the Saijadani standing there at the head of the group. Behind him, the rest of the group, battered, exhausted, bleeding, frightened, frustrated, and hungry. They stumbled into the welcome heat and dryness of the inn, crashed down at a table and stared at each other. Boyce took out a gem-encrusted necklace and tossed it at Elena. "Compliments of the King of Bayonne." Blank looks replaced blank looks as everyone turned to the grinning scoundrel. He and his companions stood up and Boyce saluted, still grinning. "We're off to deliver the rest of these goodies to our liege." Philip's mouth dropped open. "What did you think, I was just a thief?" "Well, you are." "True. But a thief with a cause. If you lot are ever in Bayonne, look me up. It's been fun." The three Gap rogues strode out into the rain. Everyone stared. Then jumped as a stick came out of nowhere and clouted Ilonka hard across the back of her head. "Bad! Bad! Bad!" Philip fended Atranztipac off as Aubrey checked to see Ilonka was not badly hurt. The Pavairellean woman glared at the Yshakan child for two seconds, then burst into tears. Uncertain, Atranztipac dropped the stick. Her belligerent expression softened and then she too began crying. Elena looked over at the two dozen Yshakans huddled around the fireplace. She thought of the hundreds of people who had once lived in Chimney. Now bodies scattered across muddy fields. A hot bowl of soup appeared in front of her as Gupta's daughters served them. Her friends ate mechanically, unable to meet each other's eyes. "There is a letter for you, my friends." Gupta laid a sealed envelope on the table. The wax bore the crest of Isabella del Maraviez. Their boss. The woman who had sent them to Chimney to investigate the drop in silver production. Now she had some other task for them. Nobody opened it. [/QUOTE]
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