The noise and chaos was staggering. The others rushed and aimed and ducked for cover.
Xanos sat calmly. This was something he understood. These weapons, they were simply machines. Tools designed for killing. They were powerful tools, true, but also complicated and like any tool, the more complicated it was, the more specialized, the more prone to breakage.
In his mind were four beings who were as different as could be, but breaking things was literally the core of their nature. Two of them were particularly active at the moment. They needed something to do. This seemed as good a task as any.
Nergal, Mammon, rid us of those weapons
Done.
The shadowy energy lazily waved out from his palms. It did not matter that xanos didn't know exactly how to break the guns. They could, and that was enough.
Dorin leaps from the boat, plowing a path through the water with main force. As he ran, he starts to unsling his shotgun, then, growling, reaches for his hammer. He pounds towards the treeline, and then the nearest of the highwaymen he could see, hoping to stay in cover until he was close enough for the kind of combat he understood.
Argoth leaps out of the boat on the same side as Lulu and makes a bee-line towards the closest bandit on that side. "Don't stay in the boat!" he shouts to the others. He gets most of the way to the shore, when he brings his rifle up and tires to fire off some shots. Again, his lack of training with the weapon shows and the shots go wild.
Anhur also bails from the boat and fires his rifle at the near thug. "I never wanted to be in this boat in the first place!" he responds frantically.
Lulu sees the men dodge their initial round of fire. We are pretty much f**ked. Lulu heads for the shore, firing purposefully at the same man as before.
The noise and chaos is staggering. The others rush and aim and duck for cover. Xanos sits calmly. This was something he understood. These weapons, they were simply machines. Tools designed for killing. They were powerful tools, true, but also complicated and like any tool, the more complicated it was, the more specialized, the more prone to breakage.
In his mind were four beings who were as different as could be, but breaking things was literally the core of their nature. Two of them were particularly active at the moment. They needed something to do. This seemed as good a task as any.
Nergal, Mammon, rid us of those weapons
I will have mine in chains.
Done.
The shadowy energy lazily waves out from his palms. It does not matter that Xanos doesn't know exactly how to break the guns. They can, and that is enough. The dark power seeks out the weapons of the men, working to break and disable them. With a chorus of snaps and cracks various vital bits of the bandits' guns shatter.
Dorin leaps from the boat, plowing a path through the water with main force. As he ran, he starts to unsling his shotgun, then, growling, reaches for his hammer. He pounds towards the treeline, and then the nearest of the highwaymen he could see, hoping to stay in cover until he was close enough for the kind of combat he understood.
The eight men look down at the shadowy ropes that are wrapping around and ruining their guns. "What the f*ck?" echoes from all directions around the heroes as the dangerous men drop their weapons. They look terrified and start to run away into the woods. The hugs in the boat begin backpedaling fiercely to reach shore and whoever was holding the chain net across the river drops it.
Argpth draws his sword, letting the accursed rifle hang from it's strap, as he charges onto the riverbank. He sees the men fleeing and laughs. "Run, Cowards! Run for your lives!" He picks up the broken gun to bring back to Lulu.
Seeing the battle apparently over, Anhur begins to retreat to the boat, but Xanos makes him feel uneasy. "Do all people in this world depend on these guns alone? Have they no respectable arms?" Anhur inquires, in no hurry to return to the boat.
"One must die. Another must be captured. I care not what happens to the rest." Xanos says to no one in particular.
A bit disturbed at the request, Anhur is too scared of Xanos to not try to help.
Anhur pricks his finger and whispers something subtly, causing the grass beneath one of the thug's feet to become oddly slippery, which is unfortunate for running.
Anhur then hurries to make chase.
Argoth wades back towards the boat holding the broken weapon he found. "I thought this might be useful. At the very least, we may be able to salvage the ammunition. But if your Napoleon is supplying these folks, then we may see the kinds of weapons he has." Argoth tosses the gun into the boat so the others can examine it.
Xanos' expression doesn't waver while Lulu rants. He listens and then nods. "Very well."
It will be.
And I have not broken it. Be patient. You will have your price.
Yes.
Argoth looks at Xanos, remembering that the man was a 'Sorceror'. "Lulu, sometimes sorcerors need lives to sacrifice." He turns to Xanos. "If we find some of these other men later, will that work?"
"It will." Xanos said, not bothering to correct Argoth's assumptions.
Dorin, meanwhile, continued to charge after the fleeing men, apparently not even haven heard the conversation so far over the noise of his own roaring. He smashes aside a sapling in his way as he tears after the closest. "Cowards! Eunuchs! Cease your fleeing!"
Argoth draws his sword, letting the accursed rifle hang from it's strap, as he charges onto the riverbank. He sees the men fleeing and laughs. "Run, Cowards! Run for your lives!" He picks up the broken gun to bring back to Lulu. He heads back into the river, the captured gun in one hand sword in the other.
As Lulu is splashing toward the shore, she notices the commotion in the forest when the men's guns start to malfunction. She turns around and sees Xanos sitting with his hands spread serenely. She can tell that he is in communion with the other entities in his mind. "GOOD IDEA! Pat on the back!" she says in Aquilonian. As the men drop their weapons and begin to run away, she does a little dance that ends with her hands creating a "V" toward her private area as she thrusts her hips forward in the popular "suck it" pose. "Don't you still want this, baby? Where are you going?" she taunts the men in English. Uhhh... does my gun still work? Lulu fires at the retreating thug in order to answer her question. Her bullet catches the running man in his back, dropping him like a sack of shit into the dirt.
Seeing the battle apparently over, Anhur begins to retreat to the boat, but Xanos makes him feel uneasy. "Do all people in this world depend on these guns alone? Have they no respectable arms?" Anhur inquires, in no hurry to return to the boat.
"One must die. Another must be captured. I care not what happens to the rest." Xanos says to no one in particular.
A bit disturbed at the request, Anhur is too scared of Xanos to not try to help. Anhur pricks his finger and whispers something subtly, causing the grass beneath one of the thug's feet to become oddly slippery, which is unfortunate for running. Anhur then hurries to make chase. The thug trips and falls on his face as he's getting out of the boat.
Lulu throws up her hands in exasperation when she hears Xanos. "Really? One did die!! We gotta capture one or what?!" She puts up a hand and counts off her reasoning on her fingers. "Number one, none of us should be running off willy-nilly into ENEMY TERRITORY, two, you're in there talking to yourself, three, we don't need a hostage, and four, we don't have time for this sh*t. Let's GO." She moves back toward the boat after taking her shot.
Argoth is still wading back towards the boat holding the broken weapon he found. "I thought this might be useful. At the very least, we may be able to salvage the ammunition. But if your Napoleon is supplying these folks, then we may see the kinds of weapons he has." Argoth tosses the gun into the boat so the others can examine it.
Xanos' expression doesn't waver while Lulu rants. He listens and then nods. "Very well."
It will be.
And I have not broken it. Be patient. You will have your price.
Yes.
Argoth looks at Xanos, remembering that the man was a 'Sorceror'. "Lulu, sometimes sorcerors need lives to sacrifice." He turns to Xanos. "If we find some of these other men later, will that work?"
"It will." Xanos said, not bothering to correct Argoth's assumptions.
Lulu growls in frustration, hitting the water next to the boat with her left hand. She holsters her pistol and and plunges her head completely into the water. She whips it back out, water from her wet hair flying everywhere. She runs her hands through her hair and smiles like an insane asylum resident. She gives Xanos the stink eye, then glares at Argoth incredulously. "Fine. We could try to capture him," she suggests, pointing at the one pursued by Anhur, "but we need to hurry the f*ck up."
Dorin, meanwhile, continued to charge after the fleeing men, apparently not even haven heard the conversation so far over the noise of his own roaring. He smashes aside a sapling in his way as he tears after the closest. "Cowards! Eunuchs! Cease your fleeing!"
Lulu can feel the terror growing in the pit of her stomach, clawing at her guts. This was all wrong, these people didn't have Yellow instincts. In their world yelling battle cries wouldn't get you killed. The bandits aren't running from us, they're running from them. They must have hoped to get our guns without any shooting. With all the noise that just happened we got twenty or thirty seconds tops before...
Then they all hear it. A terrifyingly loud sound. The moaning growls of Yellows. A lot of yellows, coming right towards them from both sides of the river. The bandits continue to scatter in a blind panic, the one who fell getting back up and running off into the woods to the south.
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As the bandits continue to flee into the woods, Dorin slows for a moment, frustrated, and finally hears the growing horrid noises closing in. He looks back towards the boat, a puzzled look on his face, and edges a few steps in that direction.
The big man feared nothing his hammer could reach, but if whatever was coming was as bad as it sounded, then he doubted he could reach them all.
Caught between the demands of a mad sorcerer and the apocalyptic onslaught of the yellows, Anhur throws up his hands, swears in Stygian, and runs back to the boat.
"Let's go! That doesn't sound good!"
Dorin threw a confused look over his shoulder, towards the undergrowth that was beginning to shudder with the approach of monsters, and started for the boat in earnest.
Bunken looks at the nearly empty bottle in the bottom of the boat. "I've had enough of this crazy ass world. Bottle's empty, and so am I. You all go, I'll stay here and buy you time to get away." Hefting his rifle, and with his bow on his back he plops out of the boat into the water. "GO!" He shouts, putting the butt of his rifle to his shoulder and scanning the trees with bleary eyes.
"Are you craz-" Argoth stops short when the man falls into the water. "Whatever. Go!" He begins pulling at the oars.
The boat begins to move rapidly down the creek, propelled by Argoth's furious rowing. Thunderous cracks fill the air as Bunken begins emptying the long clip of his rifle. Soon yellow cropses can be seen splashing into the creek. Many of them are cut down by the drunken mercenary, but just as the boat is pulling out of sight around a bend the shooting stops. Bunken's clip is empty and the yellows are closing in fast. They don't see the end, but they hear it. His yells of mad fury are cut short and then turn to a few brief shrieks of terrible pain before dying out altogether. The Yellow Dawn had claimed another proud son of Hyboria.
Anhur sits, confused at Bunken's choice. He shakes his head speechlessly as Argoth powers them away and Bunken meets his end. He whispers a prayer for the man's soul and reconsiders the evils of alcohol.
Xanos looks disgusted but not terribly surprised.
Dorin sits, still for a time, facing where Bunken was last seen. It was not the first time the Aesir had lost a companion, and he suspected it would not be the last, but this was the first that any had sacrificed themselves deliberately. The big man didn't understand it. Dorin lived in the moment, a creature of impulse and action, and laying down one's life in battle was not a foreign concept to him. But to simply fling one's self into the maw of the beast like that...he shook his giant, shaggy head and clapped his fist to his heart in the direction of Bunken's last stand. Turning his head to look at the other members of their little group, he nodded grimly to himself. It would not happen again.
He took up the oars again, adding the strength of his arms to Argoth's to take them away from this place.
Argoth looks over at the others as he rows. Looks of confusion and loss at Bunken's assured death. These fools have seen battle, but not the true heart of men. Truths you learn as a sellsword. Irony
He abruptly speaks. "I have known a few men who have done the same things. Sellswords their whole lives suddenly wade into unfathomable odds to be torn to bits. Each case was different, but they were all under great stress." He spits into the water. "A fool to throw away his life, and a pity too. But each one thought their lives nothing compared to those around them. In a way, we should be honored, though we are weaker for it."
Lulu's curiosity breaks the silence. "So... whenever we catch one of the thugs. What exactly do we have to do with him?" she asks Xanos, but looks at no one in particular.
"Bind him. The method is not important, just so long as he is helpless. Nothing more. What we do with him after that is inconsequential so long as we do not set him free."
"Then he will be free."
Dorin snorts, some of his usual attitude restored. They may be in a land full of plague-ridden demons, where companions give up hope and throw themselves to their death, but no matter the time or place, Doom was still Doom. Inscrutable the sorcerer might be, but his mystery was a familiar irritation to the son of Rogal, and somehow comforting in its way.
The chatter about Bunken's sacrifice eventually dies down as the group continues to drift downstream. Occasional rowing by Argoth and Dorin keeps them in the deep central part of the creek. They pass alternatively through woods, reclaimed from parks by nature, and crumbling suburbs. Three more times they pass under major roads, which either soar overhead, or are claustrophobic and close as the boat rockets through narrow concrete tunnels. All along the way Lulu and Anhur have to use their bows to pick off the occasional yellows, who seeing the movement come splashing into the stream looking for a meal.
After another hour or so of floating, they come into another forested area. The muggy air is thick with mutated gnats and mosquitoes. They swarm in clouds over the boat, biting and stinging the group mercilessly. In many places the trees grow over the creek completely, leaving them in partial darkness. The Big Walnut winds and bends in its bed, sometimes exposing the silt strewn rocky belly, white with dried mud.
Gradually they begin to hear a hymn-like singing drifting towards them through the trees. There are several voices raised in devotional singing to some kind of deity. The voices grow slowly louder as the boat gets closer until finally it comes around a bend to reveal a strange sight indeed. There are over a dozen white robed figures signing as they file into the water to be ceremonially dunked by a leader figure in a black suit with a white collar. The thing that makes all the more eerie is the people inside the robes. Their flesh is yellow, and tight. Parts of it are rotting off a missing, exposing muscle and bone beneath. Their yellow eyes turn as one when the boat comes into sight, and their singing cuts off.
The priest figure waves them rapidly back up onto shore, where they huddle in a frightened mass. The priest stands in front of the group, drawing a pistol. He looks at the group floating up in the boat evenly, the gun lowered at his side. He says nothing.
Map
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"Ymir's beard," Dorin mutters, looking about at the eerie scene. His right hand comes off the oars, flexing and almost reaching for his weapons. "What in all the hells is this?"
"They look reasonable to me, if also disgusting. Lulu, can they be reasoned with? Or are they going to eat us?" Anhur asks, being hopeful of the situation.
"Is this wise? Should we simply move on?" Argoth whispers.
Dorin grits his teeth, puts his hands back on the oars, and keeps rowing, slowly and rhythmically, keeping the boat moving without being threatening.
"What you doin' in our crick there Lulu? Haven't seen many pinks round these parts, an' even fewer aint up to no good." The priest calls back, not holstering the weapon, but not threatening with it either.