X-PATH 3 : The Soviet of Dreams (completed 27 November 2006)
Capellan
Explorer
Chapter Two : Things Turn Grim(lock)
"It was a terrible battle." Ms. Coltraine assured the guardsman as she gave him a winning smile, "But we drove off those evil wererats in the end."
"Thank you for your efforts," the guardsmen smiles back at the attractive young woman, clearly swayed by her charm. Then he frowns, "There's just one thing. We've never seen injuries like these -" he gestures at one of the dozen or so civilians caught in the X-Pathers crossfire. "- what happened to them?"
"A new weapon of the wererats. Like nothing I've seen before."
The bald-faced lie sails right past any Sense Motive check the guard could make, and he nods acceptingly.
"Well thank you once more for your efforts. That's all we need to know for now."
"You're welcome. Oh, I did have one thing I wanted to ask you."
"Yes, Miss?" The guard puffed up his chest, clearly thrilled that this exotic beauty wanted something of him.
"Have there been any other attacks like this?"
"Oh." The guard deflated, "Like this? No."
Coltraine's been in too many office meetings not to pick up on the wording.
"There have been some other attacks, then? Different one?"
"Well ..." the guard hesitated, so Coltraine gave him another of her dazzling smiles, "... there have been some killings in the Southspur region. Well, I say killings ... there haven't been any actual bodies, but there's been a lot of blood, and people are going missing."
"Southspur, you say?"
"Yes. Just between you and me, Miss, it's got so it's not safe to walk around at night there."
Coltraine nodded,
"Thank you for your time, officer. I'm sure a busy man like you has little to spare."
"Actually, tonight's my night off it –" the guard began, but Coltraine had already walked away.
She found Floyd and Simon where she'd left them: keeping Smith out of the way.
"It's improper for a young woman to speak alone with strange men." Smith was still insisting as she arrived, "With such Jezebellian behaviour, it's no wonder she's not married."
"Been there, done that. Twice." Coltraine flashed her once again bare ring finger. Smith turns apoplectic.
"Y'all squared things away wi' the guards?" Floyd asked. Coltraine nodded,
"Of course. They're like all men. Their IQ drops 40 points when they're within ten feet of a wonderbra. I found out there have been some other attacks in the town. Maybe not wererats, but certainly something odd. We should check them out tonight."
"Why?" Simon asked, "I'm always up for some ninja-ing, but we're not getting paid for this, right?"
Coltraine sighed,
"Did you read your contract?"
"Only the bit about paid sick days."
"It's a standard GPE clause: The staff member will investigate and report all signs of Communist activity. Failure to do so will result in termination. And with the General in charge, that 'termination' could be literal."
"Besides, son." Floyd reminds the younger man, "These are commies we're talkin' about. Huntin' 'em is our duty as right-thinkin' Americans."
* * * * *
The streets of the Southspur proved far less appealing than those where the fair was at its peak. Dark and narrow, they lacked even a single cobblestone, leaving the X-Pathers to squelch their way through ankle deep mud. Beverly, when they finally found her, refused to even consider going.
"I don't care if I do get fired." She declared, "It's not like I need the money, and there's no way I'm going into that muck. These shoes are Gucci!"
Ssssslurp. Pop. Smith pulled his boot free of the clinging mud. Sppllt. He put it down again.
"Don't look now." Simon whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "But we're being watched. Two on the left, at least two more on the right. Pass it on to the others and we'll jump them togeth-"
Smith opened fire.
Heavy tracer bullets stitched their way through a flimsy building, then slammed into the burly, grey-skinned creature that had thought it was safe behind cover. It disintegrated in much the same way as the wall.
Sighing at his companions lack of Mad Ninja Skills, Simon lobbed a grenade down the street and watched in satisfaction as a severed grey hand was blown high in the air.
What had probably been meant as ambush quickly disintegrated after that. One of the grey-skinned creatures was cut in half by a shotgun blast; another bolted out of sight as soon as it saw what was happening to its fellows. The last, still clutching the gushing stump where its hand had once been, kicked open a door and staggered into the nearest building, apparently hoping to find shelter.
Floyd looked critically at the structure.
"Looks like it should be condemned." He remarked. Then rolled a grenade inside.
When the dust and the body parts settled, the group tallied up its injuries.
"Anyone hurt?"
"Nope."
"Right, let's find that last one."
In the mud slurry of the street, it wasn't hard to follow the recent passage of a burly humanoid. The large footprints, slowly oozing closed, were a dead giveaway. 'That last one' had run up to the nearest corner, then taken a sharp left and raced toward a large, wooden building.
"Looks like he's taken cover in that warehouse." Coltraine observed, "I wonder what's in it?"
Simon shrugged,
"Grenades, very shortly."
"Go ninja it, son." Floyd gestured toward the building.
Simon set off, trying to move with his usual stealth. Ssssslurp. Pop. Sppllt. Ssssslurp. Pop. Sppllt. It wasn't really working.
Which is probably why, when he reached the warehouse door, it swung open and a massive battleaxe crashed into his neck.
* * * * *
"It's always the brat that gets it. Have you noticed that, Johnson? Almost makes you believe in karma, and all that other sappy nonsense that ruined this country in the sixties."
* * * * *
Spurting blood like a latter day Buckingham Fountain, Simon staggered back towards the others.
"Here, have a Panda Cola Light." Coltraine thrust a can into his hand. Instinctively, Simon swallowed it down. His colour improved immediately.
"Wow, homes! It really does pick you up when you're down!"
Coltraine beamed. That ought to be worth a big fat bonus at the end of this.
"Die, you godless commies!" Smith charged forward through the mud, firing from the hip as he went. A broad section of the warehouse wall started to disintegrate: a process Smith completed when he slammed into the boards and burst inside.
"I s'pose we all should help the man." Floyd remarked.
BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA.
"He seems to have things in hand." Coltraine replied. "Oops, no, one's got past him." She leapt forward as a grey-skinned humanoid staggered out of the warehouse interior, striking it with a flurry of slaps that left it reeling.
"Now, now Ms Coltraine, Don't Be Cruel." Floyd stepped forward and put the creature out of its misery.
Simon, meanwhile was fulfilling his earlier prophecy: leaping through the opening Smith had made, he began hurling grenades throughout the darkened warehouse. Perhaps the creatures inside had thought the dim light would help them: if so, they were sorely disappointed.
Within seconds, only one was left: a burly figure with filmy white eyes and a pair of black-stained axes.
"He must be the one who struck you earlier." Smith remarked to Simon. The Super Ninja wrinkled his nose.
"Homes, I think that one's a chick."
Snarling, the whatever-gender-it-might-be creature leapt forward, slashing at Smith with its axes. The Mormon, fortified by his faith, shrugged off the blows.
"You cannot poison the Word of God, She-Devil." He informed it.
BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA.
"It was a terrible battle." Ms. Coltraine assured the guardsman as she gave him a winning smile, "But we drove off those evil wererats in the end."
"Thank you for your efforts," the guardsmen smiles back at the attractive young woman, clearly swayed by her charm. Then he frowns, "There's just one thing. We've never seen injuries like these -" he gestures at one of the dozen or so civilians caught in the X-Pathers crossfire. "- what happened to them?"
"A new weapon of the wererats. Like nothing I've seen before."
The bald-faced lie sails right past any Sense Motive check the guard could make, and he nods acceptingly.
"Well thank you once more for your efforts. That's all we need to know for now."
"You're welcome. Oh, I did have one thing I wanted to ask you."
"Yes, Miss?" The guard puffed up his chest, clearly thrilled that this exotic beauty wanted something of him.
"Have there been any other attacks like this?"
"Oh." The guard deflated, "Like this? No."
Coltraine's been in too many office meetings not to pick up on the wording.
"There have been some other attacks, then? Different one?"
"Well ..." the guard hesitated, so Coltraine gave him another of her dazzling smiles, "... there have been some killings in the Southspur region. Well, I say killings ... there haven't been any actual bodies, but there's been a lot of blood, and people are going missing."
"Southspur, you say?"
"Yes. Just between you and me, Miss, it's got so it's not safe to walk around at night there."
Coltraine nodded,
"Thank you for your time, officer. I'm sure a busy man like you has little to spare."
"Actually, tonight's my night off it –" the guard began, but Coltraine had already walked away.
She found Floyd and Simon where she'd left them: keeping Smith out of the way.
"It's improper for a young woman to speak alone with strange men." Smith was still insisting as she arrived, "With such Jezebellian behaviour, it's no wonder she's not married."
"Been there, done that. Twice." Coltraine flashed her once again bare ring finger. Smith turns apoplectic.
"Y'all squared things away wi' the guards?" Floyd asked. Coltraine nodded,
"Of course. They're like all men. Their IQ drops 40 points when they're within ten feet of a wonderbra. I found out there have been some other attacks in the town. Maybe not wererats, but certainly something odd. We should check them out tonight."
"Why?" Simon asked, "I'm always up for some ninja-ing, but we're not getting paid for this, right?"
Coltraine sighed,
"Did you read your contract?"
"Only the bit about paid sick days."
"It's a standard GPE clause: The staff member will investigate and report all signs of Communist activity. Failure to do so will result in termination. And with the General in charge, that 'termination' could be literal."
"Besides, son." Floyd reminds the younger man, "These are commies we're talkin' about. Huntin' 'em is our duty as right-thinkin' Americans."
* * * * *
The streets of the Southspur proved far less appealing than those where the fair was at its peak. Dark and narrow, they lacked even a single cobblestone, leaving the X-Pathers to squelch their way through ankle deep mud. Beverly, when they finally found her, refused to even consider going.
"I don't care if I do get fired." She declared, "It's not like I need the money, and there's no way I'm going into that muck. These shoes are Gucci!"
Ssssslurp. Pop. Smith pulled his boot free of the clinging mud. Sppllt. He put it down again.
"Don't look now." Simon whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "But we're being watched. Two on the left, at least two more on the right. Pass it on to the others and we'll jump them togeth-"
Smith opened fire.
Heavy tracer bullets stitched their way through a flimsy building, then slammed into the burly, grey-skinned creature that had thought it was safe behind cover. It disintegrated in much the same way as the wall.
Sighing at his companions lack of Mad Ninja Skills, Simon lobbed a grenade down the street and watched in satisfaction as a severed grey hand was blown high in the air.
What had probably been meant as ambush quickly disintegrated after that. One of the grey-skinned creatures was cut in half by a shotgun blast; another bolted out of sight as soon as it saw what was happening to its fellows. The last, still clutching the gushing stump where its hand had once been, kicked open a door and staggered into the nearest building, apparently hoping to find shelter.
Floyd looked critically at the structure.
"Looks like it should be condemned." He remarked. Then rolled a grenade inside.
When the dust and the body parts settled, the group tallied up its injuries.
"Anyone hurt?"
"Nope."
"Right, let's find that last one."
In the mud slurry of the street, it wasn't hard to follow the recent passage of a burly humanoid. The large footprints, slowly oozing closed, were a dead giveaway. 'That last one' had run up to the nearest corner, then taken a sharp left and raced toward a large, wooden building.
"Looks like he's taken cover in that warehouse." Coltraine observed, "I wonder what's in it?"
Simon shrugged,
"Grenades, very shortly."
"Go ninja it, son." Floyd gestured toward the building.
Simon set off, trying to move with his usual stealth. Ssssslurp. Pop. Sppllt. Ssssslurp. Pop. Sppllt. It wasn't really working.
Which is probably why, when he reached the warehouse door, it swung open and a massive battleaxe crashed into his neck.
* * * * *
"It's always the brat that gets it. Have you noticed that, Johnson? Almost makes you believe in karma, and all that other sappy nonsense that ruined this country in the sixties."
* * * * *
Spurting blood like a latter day Buckingham Fountain, Simon staggered back towards the others.
"Here, have a Panda Cola Light." Coltraine thrust a can into his hand. Instinctively, Simon swallowed it down. His colour improved immediately.
"Wow, homes! It really does pick you up when you're down!"
Coltraine beamed. That ought to be worth a big fat bonus at the end of this.
"Die, you godless commies!" Smith charged forward through the mud, firing from the hip as he went. A broad section of the warehouse wall started to disintegrate: a process Smith completed when he slammed into the boards and burst inside.
"I s'pose we all should help the man." Floyd remarked.
BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA.
"He seems to have things in hand." Coltraine replied. "Oops, no, one's got past him." She leapt forward as a grey-skinned humanoid staggered out of the warehouse interior, striking it with a flurry of slaps that left it reeling.
"Now, now Ms Coltraine, Don't Be Cruel." Floyd stepped forward and put the creature out of its misery.
Simon, meanwhile was fulfilling his earlier prophecy: leaping through the opening Smith had made, he began hurling grenades throughout the darkened warehouse. Perhaps the creatures inside had thought the dim light would help them: if so, they were sorely disappointed.
Within seconds, only one was left: a burly figure with filmy white eyes and a pair of black-stained axes.
"He must be the one who struck you earlier." Smith remarked to Simon. The Super Ninja wrinkled his nose.
"Homes, I think that one's a chick."
Snarling, the whatever-gender-it-might-be creature leapt forward, slashing at Smith with its axes. The Mormon, fortified by his faith, shrugged off the blows.
"You cannot poison the Word of God, She-Devil." He informed it.
BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA BADDA.
Hammerhead
Explorer
Awesome, as usual.
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
B-slapping Grimlocks, what can you say about that? excellent.
GW
GW
