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Message: <blockquote data-quote="megamania" data-source="post: 1317076" data-attributes="member: 9255">STRIKEFORCE: MORITURISEGMENT 026    “Native Hostilities or Life is a Beach”The beach was long and pebbled with black bits of volcanic rock.  The whiteness of the sand and the pure blue of the water with green vegetation created a strong visual impression of paradise to Jim.  He had seemed to become accustomed to the idea of being stranded on an island on some freaky world of doom and gloom.  It seemed normal to him now.  Lost in his thoughts, he misses the figure peering at him from the jungle.  It is trying to hide in the thick ferns and bushes while watching him and his teammates.  Its blue skin allows it to blend in with the shadows very well.  As he nods his head at a personal thought or decision, so does it.  Is it mimicking his actions or mirroring his thoughts he will possibly never know.Adaptability.  Jim remembers Sgt. Reynolds on that day.  It was the closest he ever came to a compliment.  Jim was in his third year of the Pathfinder Division of something so secret, the NSA only had rumors of its existence.  The results of Jim’s physical and mental tests were in.  The Sarge was a hard man and even harder on the people under him.  He looked over the results and then handed the file to Jim.  “You Adapt well.” Was all he said before leaving Jim alone with his file in the enclosed and locked room.  After Jim finished reading the file, it would be “disposed” of.   Adaptability.That strength didn’t do much for him when the dreams of a world conqueror of grim rational began.  The dreams haunted him for several weeks.  Then he saw patterns.  Patterns that suggested something to him he did not agree with.  There was a god and he was a chosen one.  Chosen for what?  To destroy the person created to test and challenge the world.  Vandal Boc.   He failed that mission.  Failed it well.  In his pursuit of getting answers to his dreams he was dishonorably discharged, the government tried to kill him, his girl friend turned out to be…something else and learned something of Area 51.  Then he died.  Life can be a b-“Jim?  Christina to Jim.  You alright?”“Hmm?   Oh yeah.” He says immediately putting his frown and brooding thoughts away.  “I was just thinking how life is a beach.”“Excuse me?” she said.Jim is surprised.  She is dressed in leather armor now.  No heavy platemail and yet she looks hot as if still in it.  “Look around you.  Life is a beach.  You can create a world of sandcastles and yet, the water, blue and clear will come in and erode it away.  Then you build it again.  Eventually, tired of rebuilding, you move into the great unknown- the jungle.  There you build again.  But the water- its dangers and its beauty, are missing and thus it is not the same.”“You think entirely too much and are truly a strange man to know.” She says smiling.Jim feels the presence of Momma now.  He looks over and stares at Christina’s black cat.  It stares at him just as intently.“You know- I think your cat is either highly overprotective of you or just plain jealous.”“You have no idea” she comments looking over at her cat.  “She and I have had many adventures together and apart.  She is much more to me than a cat.” She finishes strongly and with conviction.  The cat turns its back to them and sits there twitching its tail.  “Do you like the look?” she asks.“The look?”“The armor.  It is Glamored.  Go ahead and feel it.” She offers her arm, which Jim takes with a smile that rapidly disappears on contact.“That’s still your knights armor!”“Platemail.  I am no knight.  Yes. The appearance changes only.  Roger... the Captain…thought I should try to blend in more.  He thinks we are being watched.”“Well them- lets give them a show”  He gets up and together they join the team whom are resting in a shaded area near a spot where fresh water meets the salt water of the Sea of Sorrows.Together, Megamania (aka Jim) leads the group up the fresh water stream.  They hope to find a village or signs of occupation, which they have yet to find.  Now Jim feels it too.  They are not alone.  Someone or something is watching them.Then he sees it!  A footprint in the soft sand.  Looks to be human!  The others gather around and agree.  They will continue up the stream looking for the person who made the track.It is now early evening and the jungle is beginning to suck up the light.  A high canopy is beginning to cover up the water and bits of trail.  Using his tracking skills and alternating between normal vision and darkvision he follows the trail.  Five others now accompany the lone human.  The six of them seem to be aware of their tracks and try to hide them.  He also figures that they are avoiding being seen…from the trees.  When the trees are close to the water the men move into the stream.It is about now that he realizes he is not alone.“uh…Hi.” Is all he says to a large muscular man wearing nearly no clothes.  He has a spear in one arm and a club with a coral head on it in the other.  Despite his savage and primitive appearance, Jim can see his intelligence in the eyes.  Looking into his eyes, he also realizes there are now others behind him.  “Uh…take me to your leader?”Her glamored armor is loud but not as loud as Vander’s.  Her soft leather soled boots were crafted by elves from Evermet.  She is very quiet when she wants to.  Vander was never one for stealth.  The large psychic warrior from the world of Athas is very up front when it comes to combat.  His armor bangs and clunks on the rocks sticking out of the water.  Jean, the sorcerer of weather from Kalamar, suggested he remove his skin and leg guards but Vander would nothing of it.  He felt it may disrupt his psionic enhancements on it.  Psionics was a balance of mind and body.  This same balance went to items embued with mental energy.  He pats his large falchion as he says this and unnoticed by all, nods to Christina and her Heavy Mace.  “Captain… something is wrong.” Cautions Christina looking over her shoulder.  She- I don’t see Jim ahead and it is very quiet suddenly.”And with that heavy roped nets drop from the trees around them entangling them.  All but one.  Momma, Christina’s black cat silently disappears into the thick foliage.  Then multiple shapes appear from the trees.  Monstrous creatures!They have long plated shells covering dozens of legs.  Each leg ends in small but strong claws.  Looking to the front of the body, one sees a semi- human façade.  Multiple black emotionless eyes stare back.  Mandibles clack from the cheeks to the mouth.  A syrupy white foamy substance drips from the mouths.  Several have large clubs and move quickly to quell any resistance from the heroes.   Captain Bennaton and his surviving crew merely waits knowing the strangers can deal with this.  The captain grabs the nets and pulls hard.  Cords snap and knots undo. Vander merely draws his heavy weapon.  Its keen edge slices the rope with a mere touch.  Christina wills her armor to change to its proper appearance and prepares for the closest creatures to approach.  Jean calls on a wind that begins to grow.  The creatures stop as if frozen.   They look at the humans they captured and easily they escaped their nets.  They see the branches of their trees and cover wave and lose leaves as a strong wind redirects itself through the tree’s upper branches.  This exposes another three hidden creatures.The creatures turn tail and run away by leaping from tree to tree.Jim wonders why he is being so patient.  It is not his way.  The dirty smelly and frankly disgusting men are talking about something.  Listening very hard, Jim picks up a crude version of common.  Grunts, whistles and body movements with a few words of common seem to be their native tongue.Jim then wonders what is keeping the others.  He was only a few minutes ahead of the others.  A strong breeze that carries large leaves answers him.  They are under attack also.  Okay.  No more playing nice.Jim smiles a fun loving smile under his padded facemask before leaping into action.</blockquote>

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