"What can top that?" Perry wonders aloud as he looks back to see what may be approaching next in the bad-ass parade route. "Hey, this day is interesting! Nothing wrong with that."
Perry steps back from the crowd and begins to put his armor on and power it up. May be easier to sell it if a potential interested party sees it in action.
"Damn this thing's a snug fit in the crotch."
Cedrica stares at the hawker as he proceeds to give a long dissertation of local history to a visitor. However, Cedrica, listening politely for a moment, shakes her head and looks about, her attention focusing elsewhere.
Hands in her pockets, she shrugs to no one in particular, not really listening to much, yet still picking up whenever the two men, and the woman say something.
Finally, something does catch her eye, a small hat shop not to far away.
I'll be right back she says to Perenian, her hand pressing slightly upon his upper arm to draw his attention away from the trader. Im headed over there. The woman points at the small shop. Not bothering to receive an acknowledgement from the man whom she just met ran into? chatted with? I havent really "met" him. Dont know his name., Cedrica flits through the crowd and into the store.
She looks through the wares of the hat shop, not wanting to dally with benign conversation or "shopping". She looks around, really just intent to purchase something to cover her head to keep the sun out of her eyes, she grasps a faded green hat. Tossing it onto her head, Oh! it's just a hair big! but that can be fixed, she pays the shop keep and strides back out into the open market, her eyes shaded.
Raising on tip toes, she spots those that she met and wanders back to them, just in time to watch the odd truck drive helter skelter into the marketplace.
Good thing this place wasnt really crowded, or they wouldve killed a lot of people driving down this road like that. she says to no one in particular, her left hand lifting up the remnant of 'roo jerky to gnaw on.
Cedrica stares at the hawker as he proceeds to give a long dissertation of local history to a visitor. However, Cedrica, listening politely for a moment, shakes her head and looks about, her attention focusing elsewhere.
Hands in her pockets, she shrugs to no one in particular, not really listening to much, yet still picking up whenever the two men, and the woman say something.
Finally, something does catch her eye, a small hat shop not to far away.
I'll be right back she says to Perenian, her hand pressing slightly upon his upper arm to draw his attention away from the trader. Im headed over there. The woman points at the small shop. Not bothering to receive an acknowledgement from the man whom she just met ran into? chatted with? I havent really "met" him. Dont know his name., Cedrica flits through the crowd and into the store.
She looks through the wares of the hat shop, not wanting to dally with benign conversation or "shopping". She looks around, really just intent to purchase something to cover her head to keep the sun out of her eyes, she grasps a faded green hat. Tossing it onto her head, Oh! it's just a hair big! but that can be fixed, she pays the shop keep and strides back out into the open market, her eyes shaded.
Raising on tip toes, she spots those that she met and wanders back to them, just in time to watch the odd truck drive helter skelter into the marketplace.
Good thing this place wasnt really crowded, or they wouldve killed a lot of people driving down this road like that. she says to no one in particular, her left hand lifting up the remnant of 'roo jerky to gnaw on.
One truck.
The armored truck rumbles to a stop on the dusty dirt road, its engine growling with power. Inside, the muscular Roamer warrior sits with his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. As he parks the truck, he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, steeling himself for what's to come. With a sudden motion, the warrior slams his hand against the door, causing it to shudder and shake with a loud crash that reverberates through the vehicle.
The door flies open, revealing the hulking form of the Roamer as he steps out onto the dusty ground. His thick boots land with a heavy thud, sending clouds of dirt flying into the air. The warrior's muscles bulge beneath his tattered clothing, and his eyes scan the area for any sign of danger. His hand rests on the hilt of a large sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.
The large three-bladed sword gleams in the light, its edges honed to a razor sharpness. The blade is thick and heavy, designed to cleave through armor and flesh with ease. Each of the three blades is evenly spaced and tapered towards the tip, giving it a distinctive and fearsome appearance. The hilt of the sword is wrapped in well-worn leather, with intricate patterns that have been etched into its surface. The handle is wide and sturdy, allowing the warrior to wield the blade with both hands if needed. The pommel of the sword is large and rounded, providing a secure grip for the warrior's hand. The blade gleams again in the sunlight, reflecting the dusty golden hues of the desert. As the warrior moves, the scabbard rattles gently, the sound of the blade within echoing through the empty expanse.
But it is the pommel of the sword that catches the eye. It is large, with a gemstone set in the center that glows with a kaleidoscope of neon, olive, jade, mint, and viridian shades of green. The gemstone is multi-faceted, capturing the light in a thousand different angles, making it almost seem as if the colors are dancing. The Roamer warrior's hand falls to the pommel, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the gemstone. His eyes are drawn to the shifting colors within, a small smile of satisfaction spreading across his face. The gemstone is more than just a decoration; it is a symbol of the warrior's power, a reminder of the strength he draws from the land and the elements.
As he pulls the sword free from its scabbard, the gemstone glows brighter, casting a verdant light across the warrior's face. He stands there for a moment, the sword held aloft, the gemstone pulsing with the beating of his heart.
Having assembled his armor, Perry gives it power, and immediately the weight vanishes. There's an audible hum as if it were alive, and in a sense, it is.
"Hey, look at the pommel on that sword. That reminds me of an old joke. Indigo stop me if you've heard this one: Why does a cock have a head? Germans say it's to give pleasure to the man. The French say it's to give pleasure to the woman. And the Polish say it's to keep your hand from sliding off!
Ahh-ha. I wonder who those Polish were."
Perry pauses for a reaction, then shrugs.
"Very..."European" of you Perry.
I don't really like it, too fancy for me."
Indio was certainly impressed, despite himself. It had been a series of impressive displays, and it was hard to deny that.
The problem was, it seemed to be so much...posturing.
It reminded him about what his mother had told him way back when.
Son, those that are truly brave, strong, capable or anything like that, they don't NEED to show it, or prove it. They just ARE.
Noah and Cog finally catch up with the rest of the folks, Noah sliding a couple of precious cigars into a vac-pouch in his bag. Not a humidor, but the best he could do.
"What's up with this sword jobber? Seems like a dumb place to start a fight?"
cedrica mutters to jacque For that guy, the head is needed so us women can feel him. the woman chuckles once, her attention focused upon two things. one, the man with the large sword, and the second, wishing she hadnt left her armor back in her small room that she was crashing in while she attempted to find a job to make some money.
shaking her head to clear her of the distracting thought, she shifts her stands as the black man asks the newcomer his questions. She holds herself in an easy stance, hands held at her side and feet shoulder width apart. She looks relaxed, yet her feet are firmly planted below her; her entire being is that similar to a spring, ready to spring forth in action. Noticing that everyone's attention is on the new (handsome?) guy, she takes her eyes off of the man and scans the crowds to either side, looking for other, non obvious threats.
Yeesh, I KNEW a crowd would form, I just didn't really expect to be IN it.
"I..uh...think it's mostly ceremonial, posturing, you know?
"Look at me", hell, it might even be a mating ritual, who can tell?
Strut around to attract a mate."
Indio shakes his head slowly, wondering if he should make sure not to be here next time this ritual comes around.
"Well, it's the only game in town, so I'm gonna go check it out."
Perry hurries after the Roamers and whatknot to wherever they are assembling.
"Ugh...I'm going to regret this..."
Sighing deeply, Indio offers a wry grin at the others, before following Perry.
He did offer to cut me in after all.
Something in the red-head's stance strikes a chord with Zithara, and she wanders over to stand near her. "On the lookout for trouble, eh? Me too. Name's Zithara."
Cedrica looks quickly at the new woman. Cedrica. charmed. Got my back, and i got yours? already assuming the newcomer will agree, cedrica shifts her stance to cover the woman's back.
"Agreed. You check left, I'll check right?"
A low growling sound echoes through the market square, and people begin to clear a path. At the center of the commotion is a grexxaiten, an immense badger-like mutant with a dozen legs, its massive body the size of a small tank.
The creature is tethered by a thick chain. Made out of seven individual strands of super-hard chromium alloy, it gleams in the light, each link perfectly crafted and polished to a mirror-like finish. The chain is heavy, each link weighing several pounds, yet it is surprisingly pliable, able to bend and twist without breaking. The chromium alloy, known for its incredible strength and durability, makes the chain virtually indestructible, able to withstand immense pressure and resist even the toughest of elements. The chain seems almost alive, its sleek surface shimmering in the light. The individual strands interweave and intertwine, creating a lattice-like structure that enhances its strength and flexibility. Each link is perfectly formed, the edges smooth and free of imperfections. The chain's surface is unmarred by scratches or dents, a testament to the skill of its craftsmen and the quality of its materials. As the light plays across its surface, the chain seems to come alive, each strand reflecting a rainbow of colors. It is a thing of beauty, an object that inspires awe and admiration.
Its fur bristles with anticipation, and its jaws snap open and shut as it pulls on its restraints. The matted fur of the badger-like mutant is thick and unkempt, a tangle of coarse strands that seem to defy order. It stands out against the creature's skin, a motley mix of black, brown, and white that blends together in a chaotic jumble. The fur is long and shaggy, hanging in ragged clumps that frame the creature's face and trail down its back. It seems to have a life of its own, moving with the creature's every motion, swaying and rustling as the grexxaiten scurries about. Despite its rough appearance, the fur is surprisingly soft to the touch, each strand fine and pliable. It is a testament to the creature's natural resilience, able to withstand the harsh realities of its environment and protect it from the elements. As the creature moves, its fur seems to take on a life of its own, shifting and moving with a fluid grace that belies its tangled appearance.
Its beady eyes lock onto the figure of the warrior who has just appeared in the square, and its lips curl back to reveal razor-sharp teeth. The creature snarls, a low rumbling sound that echoes through the air. The creature's eyes shine like tiny beacons. The eyes are a bright, almost otherworldly green, standing out against the muted tones of the market's stalls and awnings. They seem to pulsate with an inner energy, as if the creature's very life force were reflected in them. They flicker and dance, drawing the attention of onlookers and passersby.
The mutant's snarls grow louder, and it takes a step forward, its thick paws leaving deep imprints in the ground. Its claws scrape against the cobblestones, sending sparks flying as it moves closer to the warrior. The creature's dozen legs scrape against the cobblestones, leaving deep gouges in the ground. The chain creaks and strains under the immense weight of the grexxaiten as it pulls with all its might. Its powerful muscles ripple beneath its fur, and its claws dig into the ground as it strains against the chain. Despite the efforts of its handler, the grexxaiten seems determined to break free.
Its eyes dart around the market square, seeking out its target. The crowds watch in awe and fear as the creature's power is on full display, its massive form dwarfing everything around it. The handler, a burly man with sweat pouring down his face, tugs at the chain with all his might, trying to keep the creature under control. But the grexxaiten is too strong, and it continues to pull with increasing force, the chain groaning under the strain.
As the commotion continues, the crowds in the market square begin to back away, giving the grexxaiten a wide berth. People mutter nervously amongst themselves, their eyes fixed on the creature's immense form. A group of individuals gathers, huddling together in small clusters as they observe the badger-like mutant. The group watches with a mixture of fear and fascination, their eyes fixed on the mutant as it growls and snarls, its eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. Some of them are armed, clutching makeshift weapons in their hands, while others stand back, wary of getting too close to the creature. As the grexxaiten pulls harder on the chain, the group edges back, sensing that something is about to happen. They know that if the creature breaks free, it could cause untold damage, leaving destruction in its wake. The tension in the air is palpable as the creature strains against the chain, its muscles bulging and rippling beneath its thick fur. The group holds its collective breath, waiting to see what will happen next.
The armored truck rumbles to a stop on the dusty dirt road, its engine growling with power. Inside, the muscular Roamer warrior sits with his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. As he parks the truck, he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, steeling himself for what's to come. With a sudden motion, the warrior slams his hand against the door, causing it to shudder and shake with a loud crash that reverberates through the vehicle.
The door flies open, revealing the hulking form of the Roamer as he steps out onto the dusty ground. His thick boots land with a heavy thud, sending clouds of dirt flying into the air. The warrior's muscles bulge beneath his tattered clothing, and his eyes scan the area for any sign of danger. His hand rests on the hilt of a large sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.
The large three-bladed sword gleams in the light, its edges honed to a razor sharpness. The blade is thick and heavy, designed to cleave through armor and flesh with ease. Each of the three blades is evenly spaced and tapered towards the tip, giving it a distinctive and fearsome appearance. The hilt of the sword is wrapped in well-worn leather, with intricate patterns that have been etched into its surface. The handle is wide and sturdy, allowing the warrior to wield the blade with both hands if needed. The pommel of the sword is large and rounded, providing a secure grip for the warrior's hand. The blade gleams again in the sunlight, reflecting the dusty golden hues of the desert. As the warrior moves, the scabbard rattles gently, the sound of the blade within echoing through the empty expanse.
But it is the pommel of the sword that catches the eye. It is large, with a gemstone set in the center that glows with a kaleidoscope of neon, olive, jade, mint, and viridian shades of green. The gemstone is multi-faceted, capturing the light in a thousand different angles, making it almost seem as if the colors are dancing. The Roamer warrior's hand falls to the...
The Roamer warrior stands tall and proud, adorned in a suit of armor made entirely out of the scaly hides of Komodo dragons. The armor is a striking sight, with its deep green scales glinting in the sunlight. The chest plate is made up of several large, overlapping scales that are held in place by thick leather straps. The scales are not only sturdy, but also flexible, allowing the warrior to move with ease in battle. The edges of each scale are razor sharp, giving the armor an added layer of defense against enemy blades. The shoulder guards are also fashioned from the same Komodo dragon hides, each one consisting of dozens of small scales intricately arranged to create a protective layer around the warrior's shoulders. The armor's maker has taken great care to ensure that the scales are arranged in such a way as to provide maximum coverage while also allowing for a full range of movement. The warrior's gauntlets are crafted from the same scaly material, with each finger covered in thick, overlapping scales that provide ample protection for the hands. The scales are not only sturdy, but also sharp, giving the warrior a powerful tool in close combat. The warrior's greaves are made up of long, overlapping scales that protect the legs from harm. The scales extend all the way down to the tops of the boots, creating a seamless barrier between the warrior's skin and the outside world. As the warrior moves, the armor makes a soft rustling sound, almost like the whisper of leaves in the wind. The Komodo dragon scales gleam in the light, reflecting the sun's rays in a mesmerizing dance. It is a fearsome sight to behold, and one that strikes fear into the hearts of the warrior's enemies.
The Roamer warrior stands tall and proud. His eyes are fierce and unyielding as he surveys the bustling marketplace, taking note of the rival clan's grexxaitten handler. In a voice that carries over the noise of the crowd, the Roamer warrior calls out to the handler, his words laced with a warning. "G'day, mate. I reckon we've got a bit of a matter of honor to settle, don't we? See, you and your lot have gone and crossed a line. You've disrespected our clan, and that's not something we take lightly 'round here. Now, I ain't lookin' for a fight. But I am lookin' for a bit of justice. And that's where you come in. I'm giving you a fair go, mate. You've got two choices. You can apologize and make it right, or you can face me in a one-on-one battle to the death. I know which one I'd choose if I were in your shoes. But I reckon you're too proud for that, aren't ya? So, what's it gonna be, mate? You gonna step up and do the right thing, or are we gonna have to settle this the old-fashioned way?"
The grexxaiten handler from the Sain uu Tobok Clan stands tall and proud, his broad shoulders filling out his leather vest. His rugged features are etched with determination as he faces his opponent, a Roamer warrior from a rival clan. The armor worn by the grexxaiten handler of the Sain uu Tobok Roamer Clan is a sight to behold. Made from a dozen thylacine hides sewn together with bone staples and string made out of sinew, it is both durable and flexible. The hides are a deep shade of brown, with thick fur that provides warmth in the harsh desert climate. The bones used to fasten the hides together are bleached white, adding a stark contrast to the dark leather. The sinew used to bind the armor together is braided tightly, ensuring that it will not unravel or come apart in battle. The armor is designed to fit snugly against the handler's body, providing protection from the sharp claws and teeth of the grexxaiten. It covers his chest, back, and arms, with additional layers of hide protecting his thighs and shins. The thylacine hides are reinforced with strips of leather, which have been stitched into place to create a ribbed effect. The leather has been treated with oils and waxes, making it resistant to moisture and increasing its lifespan.
"Ya think ya can take me on, mate?" he drawls in a thick Australian accent, his eyes flashing with challenge. "Well, I reckon ya got another thing comin'."
He adjusts his grip on the reins of his grexxaiten, a massive creature that towers over him. The beast snorts and paws at the ground, sensing the tension in the air. As the mutant badger strains against its restraints, the enormous chain with holds it in place with an iron grip. Each of the seven thick chains is forged from sturdy metal, designed to withstand the brute strength of even the most powerful creatures. The links of the chains are massive, each one nearly the size of a human hand, and as the grexxaitten struggles, the chains emit a low, metallic groan.
The handler locks eyes with the Roamer warrior, his gaze steady and unyielding. "I ain't afraid of ya, mate," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "I been trainin' for this my whole life. Ain't nothin' gonna stop me from defendin' my clan's honor."
Having followed the group of outsides as they made their way into the marketplace, Perry hears them clearly when they begin to threaten each other.
"Why don't you two take your hurt feelings and pissin' match outside of town. What you're about to start here is gonna destroy a lot of people's livelihoods, and then the whole f~#!in' town is gonna hate you. So move on out or settle the f~#% down."
Having followed the group of outsides as they made their way into the marketplace, Perry hears them clearly when they begin to threaten each other.
"Why don't you two take your hurt feelings and pissin' match outside of town. What you're about to start here is gonna destroy a lot of people's livelihoods, and then the whole f%!$in' town is gonna hate you. So move on out or settle the f#~$ down."
Roamer warrior's lips curl into a fierce snarl as he realizes he has been interrupted.
"G'day, mate. Listen up and listen good. This 'ere is Roamer clan business, and we don't need no outsiders stickin' their noses in. So I suggest you bugger off before things get ugly. We're a proud and fierce bunch, and we don't take kindly to interference. So, do yourself a favour and stay out of it. Trust me, you don't want to mess with us Roamers."
"I get that you're a proud bunch and no, I don't want to mess with you. But respectfully, I live here and you don't. If your intention was to kill each other then you can do that outside of the city walls. If you bring violence to these people they will never let you back in. So I strongly suggest you stand down and take your f+&@in' clan business elsewhere."
As the doors of the truck slowly swing open, the other Roamer warriors leap out, their boots thudding against the hard-packed earth. The sound of the Roamer warriors' boots hitting the ground is a sharp, percussive thud that reverberates through the air. It is a heavy, weighty sound, as if each footstep is hammering the earth with force. As the Roamers stride forward, their boots slam against the hard-packed earth, sending small clouds of dust and debris scattering in all directions. The sound echoes off the surrounding buildings, creating a sense of power and authority.
The warriors move quickly and efficiently, scanning their surroundings with trained eyes. They are on high alert, ready for any danger that might come their way. The four Roamer warriors stand alert in the bustling market, their eyes scanning their surroundings with trained vigilance. They are an intimidating presence amidst the throngs of merchants and shoppers, their armor and weapons marking them as dangerous and experienced fighters, a formidable group, each with their own unique look and style.
The first warrior, wearing armor made from the hides of three komodo dragons, is an imposing figure. He stands over six feet tall and is built like a fortress, with rippling muscles and a fierce expression. His armor is dark and menacing, with scales that shimmer in the light. The thick, scaly skin of the lizards has been expertly crafted into a suit of armor that covers the entire body of its wearer. The scales themselves are a dark, mottled green, and they are hard and resilient to the touch. The most striking part of the armor is the helmet, which is fashioned from the head of one of the komodo dragons. The fierce, toothy mouth of the lizard is left open, forming a visor through which the wearer can see. The eyes of the dragon have been preserved and fitted with small gems that glitter in the light. When worn, the helmet gives the impression that the wearer's head is nestled within the jaws of a ferocious beast. The gauntlets are another feature of the armor that are both functional and intimidating. They are made from the bones of the komodo dragons, giving them a hard, brittle quality. The gauntlets fit snugly over the wearer's hands, and the bone plates are arranged in such a way as to provide maximum protection while still allowing for flexibility. The rest of the armor is similarly well-crafted. The plates of the armor are carefully fitted together, forming a seamless suit of armor that moves with the wearer's body. The armor is heavy, but not overly so, and it provides excellent protection against both physical and magical attacks. The eclipse anti-matter phaser-cannon is a fearsome weapon, mounted on the back of the Roamer warrior in a large holster. The cannon is an imposing sight, with a sleek black and silver design that gleams in the light. The barrel of the cannon is nearly three feet long and lined with intricate circuitry that hums with energy. The holster that holds the cannon is made from thick, durable leather and reinforced with metal plates. It is strapped securely to the back of the Roamer warrior, with the cannon nestled snugly within. The warrior himself stands tall and proud, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his armor. As the warrior moves, the cannon sways slightly in its holster, giving off a low humming sound that reverberates through the air. The cannon is clearly a powerful weapon, capable of unleashing devastating blasts of energy that can destroy entire buildings or armies.
The other three warriors wear power armor scavenged from salvage in the Outback. They are equally intimidating, but their armor is more high-tech, with glowing circuits and power sources that hum with energy. The first of the four has armor that is sleek and streamlined, with sharp angles and a black, matte finish. He carries a plasma rifle in one hand, its barrel glowing with heat.
The second warrior's armor is bulkier, with reinforced plates that cover his entire body. The armor is comprised of hundreds of individual plates, each one expertly crafted to fit snugly against the wearer's body. The plates are made from a variety of different metals, ranging from rusted steel to gleaming titanium, and each one is reinforced with a layer of woven Kevlar that adds an extra level of protection. The armor is heavy and cumbersome, but the wearer seems to move with an ease and grace that belies its weight. The joints of the armor are articulated, allowing for a full range of movement, and each plate is connected by a complex system of hydraulics and servos that enhance the wearer's strength and speed. The helmet of the armor is particularly impressive, with a sleek, angular design that gives the wearer a fearsome appearance. The visor is made from reinforced glass, tinted to protect the wearer's eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. Inside the helmet, a suite of advanced sensors and targeting systems allow the wearer to track targets with pinpoint accuracy, even in the most challenging of environments. As the wearer moves, the armor emits a low hum, the sound of its systems powering up and adjusting to the wearer's movements. The plates shift and flex, moving almost like a second skin as the wearer twists and turns. His gauntlets are massive, made of thick metal and bristling with spikes. The gauntlets are made from tough, durable leather, reinforced with metal plates and studded with sharp spikes. As the warrior flexes his fingers, the spikes glint menacingly in the light, ready to tear through flesh and bone. The warrior seems to take great pleasure in the spikes, his eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity as he raises his hands to examine them. The spikes themselves are long and pointed, each one honed to a razor's edge. They protrude from the gauntlets at strategic angles, allowing the warrior to strike with deadly precision. As the warrior moves, the spikes emit a low hissing sound, the leather of the gauntlets creaking and groaning under the weight of the metal. The warrior seems completely at ease wearing the gauntlets, moving with a fluid grace that belies their weight. He tests the spikes by flexing his fingers, the metal plates clanking against each other in a steady rhythm. He carries a large, plasma-fueled chain sword that hums with power. The chain sword hums with power as it glows a fierce, electric blue. Its plasma-fueled blades spin at a dizzying speed, ready to slice through any material with ease. The weapon is massive, measuring over six feet in length and weighing a solid twenty pounds. The hilt is made of a sturdy, matte-black alloy, designed to withstand the force of the spinning blades. The grip is wrapped in a soft, yet durable material that provided an excellent grip, even in the most intense combat situations. As the wielder of the chain sword activates the weapon, the plasma-fueled blades ignited in a brilliant burst of energy. The hum of the blades intensifies, the sound waves rippling through the air and causing nearby objects to shake. The blades spin faster and faster, creating a dazzling display of light and motion. The plasma generated by the sword glows a bright blue, illuminating the surrounding area with an otherworldly radiance.
The third Roamer warrior is a muscular woman with flame-red hair that flows down her broad shoulders and back. Her hair is a vibrant shade of crimson, the color of a blazing fire, and it is pulled back in a tight braid that runs down her spine. The warrior woman's long hair is a brilliant shade of flame red, cascading down her back in a fiery waterfall of curls. Each strand is thick and lustrous, shimmering in the sunlight as she moves, a fierce and beautiful sight to behold. As she strides forward, her hair moves with her, flowing like molten lava in the wind. The waves of her hair seem to have a life of their own, rippling and dancing with every step she takes, an extension of her own fierce spirit. The vibrant hue of her hair is matched only by the intensity of her gaze, a piercing blue that seems to see through to the very soul of those who dare to cross her path. As she strides forward, her powerful muscles ripple under her skin, her every movement exuding strength and confidence. She wears a suit of armor that hugs her body like a second skin, the metal plates polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the fiery red of her hair. Her hair frames her face like a fiery halo, adding to the wild and untamed nature of her presence. The woman’s armor is more understated, with a muted green color and few embellishments. The armor is a study in understated simplicity, with a muted green color that blended seamlessly into its surroundings. The armor is crafted from a lightweight, high-grade metal alloy that provided excellent protection against both physical and energy-based attacks, and its minimalist design allowed for maximum mobility and flexibility. The armor lacked any ostentatious embellishments or flashy ornamentation, instead opting for a clean, utilitarian design that is all about function over form. The armor is designed to be practical and efficient, with every element carefully considered to optimize its performance in the field. The armor consisted of a chest plate, shoulder guards, gauntlets, and leg guards, all connected by a series of straps and buckles. The plates are curved and molded to fit the contours of the wearer's body, providing a snug and secure fit. The armor is designed to be modular, allowing the wearer to swap out different pieces depending on their needs. For example, the shoulder guards can be removed to provide greater range of motion, or additional plates can be added to provide extra protection. Despite its simple design, the armor is undeniably effective. The muted green color blended into the natural environment, making the wearer difficult to spot, and the lightweight design allowed for quick and agile movements in the field. She carries a pair of plasma pistols, which she wields with deadly accuracy. The pair of C-18 laser pistols are the pinnacle of weapon technology, sleek and deadly, with a precision and accuracy unmatched by any other firearm in existence. The pistols are each about the size of a human hand, crafted from a dark, matte black metal alloy that gave them a menacing appearance. The grips are coated in a soft, yet durable material that provided a comfortable and secure hold. Each pistol is powered by a compact, high-capacity energy cell that stored enough energy to fire hundreds of rounds. The energy is converted into a focused laser beam that can slice through steel like butter, and the pistols are capable of rapid-fire, allowing the user to unleash a barrage of deadly beams in mere seconds. As the wielder of the pistols prepared to engage, she draws the weapons from their holsters, feeling the weight and balance of the firearms in her hands. The sleek design and compact size of the pistols made them ideal for quick-draw situations, and the wielder is confident in her ability to use them to devastating effect. Her movements are quick and agile, and she seems to glide across the ground with ease.
The fourth and final warrior is the smallest of the group, but no less deadly. His armor is a patchwork of salvaged metal and circuitry, with wires and tubes jutting out at odd angles. The armor is designed to provide protection and enhance the physical abilities of its wearer, but it is clear that this particular suit had seen better days. The armor is cobbled together from a variety of sources, with scraps of metal welded together to create a hodgepodge of plating that covered the wearer's body. The plates are unevenly sized and often misshapen, with jagged edges that looked as though they can cut through flesh like a knife. Wires and tubes ran haphazardly across the armor, connecting various pieces of circuitry that had been scavenged from other sources. Some of the wires are exposed, sparking with electricity as they jostled against the metal plating. The tubes are filled with a variety of fluids, their purpose unknown to anyone but the person who had constructed the suit. Despite its crude appearance, the power armor is undeniably effective. The plating provided excellent protection against both physical and energy-based attacks, and the suit's strength-enhancing capabilities allowed its wearer to lift and carry incredible amounts of weight. The power armor may look like a mess of scraps and wires, but in the hands of a skilled operator, it is a formidable weapon, capable of turning the tide of any battle. He carries a pair of singing thermal equalizer laser pistols, which he wields with a practiced ease. Despite his small size, he seems to be the most agile of the group, darting in and out of cover with incredible speed. The pair of singing thermal equalizer laser pistols are a marvel of weapon engineering, with a sleek and futuristic design that is both stylish and deadly. The pistols are crafted from a high-grade, lightweight alloy that made them easy to wield and maneuver, and their smooth curves and elegant lines gave them a streamlined and aerodynamic appearance. The pistols are equipped a cutting-edge system that allowed them to regulate the temperature of their surroundings, ensuring that the laser beams fired from the barrels are always at optimal intensity. This technology gave the pistols an unprecedented level of accuracy, allowing them to hit their targets with pinpoint precision. As the warrior takes aim, the pistols emit a high-pitched whine, the sound waves harmonizing and reverberating through the air.
Together, these Roamer warriors make for a formidable force, each with their own unique set of skills and equipment. They are clearly experienced fighters, and the sight of them standing together is enough to make even the bravest of enemies hesitate.
Oh screw my life, I KNEW I was going to regret it.
Despite not really having a dog in the fight, and every ounce of self preservation telling him to run away, Indio remains close behind Perry.
At this point, even he isn't sure what he is going to do if things really do devolve into violence.
He DOES realise that on some level, what Perry is doing is counter productive, since this is likely to just escalate into a bigger fight, and this cause ven MORE damage.
Question is, how to get that to Perry without also letting the others know?
And, he does have a point, they SHOULD take it outside, and he is also right that if they really want to avoid being banned from this place, the Roamers really NEED to take it outside.
But how to get THAT through their thick, macho skulls?
I'm not the talky person! Why is there no talky person here? I know shit and fix things, that's what *I* do!
The crowd of onlookers who had been milling about the market stalls suddenly draw back in fear, sensing the danger that emanates from the group of warriors. The air is thick with tension as the warriors fan out, their eyes scanning the surrounding area for any potential threats. The Roamer warriors move with an almost robotic precision, their movements synchronized and disciplined. The crowd of onlookers can feel the intensity of their gaze as they sweep their weapons back and forth, scanning the area for any sign of danger. The onlookers step back further, trying to create as much distance between themselves and the warriors as possible. The tension in the air is palpable, and the onlookers can feel their hearts pounding in their chests as they watch the warriors move with deadly intent. For a few moments, there is silence, broken only by the sound of the warriors' heavy breathing and the distant hum of the market.
"Oh for f#@&'s sake. You gods-forsaken a%+!#+$s are really gonna do this here, aren't you? I hope you all f%%#in' kill each other, Goddammit!" Perry starts moving innocent bystanders away as quickly as possible, starting with any women and children dumb enough to be loitering.
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Cedrica puts a hand on Zithara's arm. im going to do something reckless... she mutters to the woman beside her.
[bigger]Hold on a sec fellas! cedrica shouts loud enough to be heard by the roamer clan-boys, (and the crowd).
Swallowing her fear, the short red head strides forward, headed to the Roamer holding the Grexx. Hey now. Easy. Ladies first, please. she scolds the men. she gets close enough to the animal trainer, and asks How much for the Grexx? As you can see, im just a sweet little lady who is looking for something better than a mere dog. Perhaps an arrangement could be made for the Grexx? Cedrica quirks an eyebrow, flashes a smile, batting her eyelashes, and slightly thrusts her chest out.
Seeing Cedrica approach the tribesman, Perry focuses on the giant mutant badger and waves his arms as if a conductor. On the down beat he channels his mystical energies toward the beast.
+ + = 16!
He feels a connection to the creature and knows they can understand one another. Using this mental link, he commands it to become docile and roll over onto its back to allow Cedrica to rub its soft belly.
"Well look at that, the beastie likes this little red!"
Zithara also starts to clear the area of onlookers, and urges merchants to leave their stalls, all the while keeping an eye on, and not straying too far from, the Rover warriors.
Seeing the badger suddenly calm down, she looks for a reason.
= 10
She notices a guy who was waving his arms just beforehand, and assumes he caused it somehow. She makes a mental note of his appearance, in case she wants to talk to him later.
Cedrica puts a hand on Zithara's arm. im going to do something reckless... she mutters to the woman beside her.
[bigger]Hold on a sec fellas! cedrica shouts loud enough to be heard by the roamer clan-boys, (and the crowd).
Swallowing her fear, the short red head strides forward, headed to the Roamer holding the Grexx. Hey now. Easy. Ladies first, please. she scolds the men. she gets close enough to the animal trainer, and asks How much for the Grexx? As you can see, im just a sweet little lady who is looking for something better than a mere dog. Perhaps an arrangement could be made for the Grexx? Cedrica quirks an eyebrow, flashes a smile, batting her eyelashes, and slightly thrusts her chest out.
The mutant badger, known as a grexxaitten, is a fearsome creature to behold. It is larger than a regular badger, with muscular limbs and a powerful frame that speaks to its ferocity.
The enormous mutant grexxaiten’s hide is a marvel, with a rich blend of variegated shades of ebony, charcoal, onyx, and licorice black that gives it a mysterious allure. The fur is thick and plush, with a softness that belies the creature's fierce demeanor. The black hues shift and change in the light, creating an ever-shifting tapestry of darkness that is impossible to look away from. But it's not just the darkness that captures the attention. Running down the grexxaiten’s back is a large stripe of white fur that stands out in stark contrast to the black. This stripe is a delicate blend of cream, eggshell, ivory, and vanilla white that forms a ghostly mask on the grexxaiten’s face. The white fur is pure and pristine, creating a striking contrast against the darkness of the rest of the coat. The grexxaiten’s hide is a testament to the creature's strength and ferocity. The muscles ripple beneath the fur, powerful and well-defined, a testament to the creature's raw power. Its eyes, peering out from the white mask, are piercing and intense, a clear sign of the grexxaiten’s sharp intelligence and cunning.
The twelve large paws of the grexxaitten are a formidable sight to behold. Each paw is as thick as a tree trunk and covered in a thick layer of jet black fur. The claws are long and curved, as sharp as knives and capable of rending flesh with ease. As the grexxaitten moves, its massive paws hit the ground with a deafening thud, sending shockwaves through the earth. Its movements are slow and deliberate, each step measured and calculated. Despite its size and weight, the creature moves with a fluid grace, its paws lifting and falling with the precision of a well-oiled machine. The claws on each paw are a work of art. They are long, razor-sharp, and curve inward like scimitars. When the grexxaitten digs them into the earth, they leave deep furrows in the ground, evidence of the creature's incredible strength. The claws are made for tearing and shredding, a testament to the grexxaitten's ferocity and power. The paws themselves are massive, easily as large as a human torso. The thick, powerful muscles that power them ripple with every movement, each one working in perfect harmony to propel the creature forward. When the grexxaitten rears up on its hind legs, its paws stretch out like massive branches, reaching for the sky.
The twelve yellow eyes of the enormous creature are set deep within the beast's skull, each one glinting with a fierce, predatory gaze. The eyes are a piercing shade of yellow, like molten gold, and seem to glow in the dim light. The eyes are arranged in a circular pattern around the grexxaiten’s head, giving it a 360-degree view of its surroundings. They are large and round, with pupils that can dilate and contract at will, allowing the creature to see in both bright daylight and the darkness of night. The eyes seem to glow with an inner light, as if the badger is a creature of pure energy and power. They are mesmerizing to look at, drawing the viewer in with their intensity and beauty. Despite their otherworldly appearance, the grexxaiten’s eyes are also filled with a deep intelligence and cunning. They assess the world around them, scanning for potential prey or threats. They are the windows to the grexxaiten’s soul, revealing the ferocity and power of this mutant creature.
The jaws of the immense mutant badger are big enough to swallow a full-grown man whole, with razor-sharp teeth that gleam in the light. The teeth are arranged in twelve rows, like that of a shark, with serrated edges that can tear through flesh and bone with ease. The grexxaitten's jaws are powerful, capable of crushing even the strongest of prey with ease. The muscles in the creature's jaw ripple beneath the fur, ready to snap shut with deadly force at a moment's notice. Its tongue, forked like that of a serpent, coils like that of an anteater, flicking out occasionally to taste the air and assess its surroundings. The teeth themselves are a work of art, each one perfectly formed and honed to a deadly edge. They are curved like daggers, ready to slice through flesh and rend apart prey. The serrated edges only add to the ferocity of the creature's bite, tearing through flesh with ease. Despite their intimidating size and sharpness, the grexxaitten's jaws are also a thing of beauty. The teeth gleam in the light, almost seeming to pulse with a life of their own. The tongue, though forked and serpentine, is coated with a glistening saliva that adds a sickly beauty to the jaws.
The enormous mutant badger snarls and snaps at the air savagely with its immense jaws. The teeth are long, curved, and sharp as razors, with serrated edges that glint in the sunlight. The creature's massive head snaps back and forth, its jaws opening and closing with a deafening snap as it seeks its prey. Its eyes, a fierce yellow that seem to glow with a menacing light, scan the area for any potential targets. The grexxaiten’s nostrils flare as it scents the air, its tongue flicking out to taste the wind and assess its prey. It is a creature of pure instinct, driven by a hunger that cannot be sated. The grexxaiten’s powerful jaws are capable of tearing through flesh and bone with ease. Its muscles ripple with power as it snaps at the air, its teeth mere inches from the skin of its prey. The sound of its snapping jaws is terrifying, like the crack of a whip or the clap of thunder. Despite its ferocity, there is a beauty to the creature's movements. The way its muscles move beneath its fur, the way its eyes scan the area with a fierce intensity, the way its jaws snap shut with a deafening force – all of these elements combine to create a primal, almost hypnotic dance of death.
Cedrica puts a hand on Zithara's arm. im going to do something reckless... she mutters to the woman beside her.
[bigger]Hold on a sec fellas! cedrica shouts loud enough to be heard by the roamer clan-boys, (and the crowd).
Swallowing her fear, the short red head strides forward, headed to the Roamer holding the Grexx. Hey now. Easy. Ladies first, please. she scolds the men. she gets close enough to the animal trainer, and asks How much for the Grexx? As you can see, im just a sweet little lady who is looking for something better than a mere dog. Perhaps an arrangement could be made for the Grexx? Cedrica quirks an eyebrow, flashes a smile, batting her eyelashes, and slightly thrusts her chest out.
Seeing Cedrica approach the tribesman, Perry focuses on the giant mutant badger and waves his arms as if a conductor. On the down beat he channels his mystical energies toward the beast.
[dice=Cast Beast Friend]1d8;1d6 + [dice=Wild Ace]1d6 + [dice=Wild Ace]1d6 = 16!
He feels a connection to the creature and knows they can understand one another. Using this mental link, he commands it to become docile and roll over onto its back to allow Cedrica to rub its soft belly.
"Well look at that, the beastie likes this little red!"
The grexxaiiten snarls and growls, pulling against the heavy chain that binds it. Its body is massive and muscular, with thick, matted fur that seems to bristle with anger. Its eyes blaze with a fiery intensity, reflecting a fierce determination that seems almost otherworldly. As it continues to pull, the chain creaks and groans under the strain, its links straining to contain the mutant's raw strength. The badger's teeth snap in the air, like the jaws of a steel trap, threatening to tear through flesh and bone. With a sudden burst of energy, the mutant lunges forward, snapping the chain in two with a single, powerful tug. Its eyes glow with a fierce satisfaction as it shakes its head triumphantly, snarling and growling in defiance. Its eyes scan the surroundings, searching for prey or danger.
They are large and round, almost as big as a human head. They seem to glow with a bright intensity, giving the creature an otherworldly aura. At first, the eyes are a deep shade of red, piercing and intense, like flames dancing in the darkness. Something strange happens. The red of its eyes begins to twist and turn, as if it's alive. Slowly, the red fades, replaced by a pinwheel of colors. The stripes begin with a deep crimson, then shift to a vibrant orange, followed by a brilliant yellow. As the colors continue to spin, they become more vivid and diverse. Shades of green, azure, indigo, and violet all join the mix, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that hypnotizes and mesmerizes anyone who gazes upon them. The pinwheel spins faster and faster, a blur of colors that seem to blend together into a single, brilliant hue. The creature's eyes seem to be alive, pulsing with energy as the colors swirl and dance. It's as if the creature's emotions are being projected through its eyes, a vivid display of its power and strength. The pinwheel of colors continues to spin, creating a mesmerizing spectacle that's impossible to look away from.
Suddenly, it stops in its tracks, its body frozen in place. It cocks its head to one side, as if hypnotized by some unseen force. The grexxaiiten's eyes begin to glow with a strange intensity. The mutant steps forward, its head still cocked to one side, its eyes reflecting a deep curiosity. Perry stands before the grexxaitten, his piercing gaze fixed upon the animal, and his eyes seem to glow with an otherworldly light. The mutant stares at him, mesmerized by the warrior's hypnotic presence. As Perry approaches, the grexxaitten takes a step forward. It seems to be drawn towards the warrior, as if by an invisible force. The grexxaitten continues to approach. Finally, the great mutant reaches Perry, coming to a stop just inches from his feet. The warrior places a hand on the animal's head, and the badger nuzzles against his palm, as if in a trance.
The onlookers in the market gasp in amazement, unable to believe what they are witnessing. The warrior seems to have tamed the wild mutant badger with nothing but his hypnotic gaze.
A woman weaves her way through the throngs of people in the bustling market, her moderate tan glowing in the sun. The tanned woman stands proud, draped in a breathtaking ensemble that demands attention. She's dressed impeccably, her clothing conveys both professionalism and a sense of confidence that's hard to miss.
The woman stands tall, wearing a stunning kebaya that flows gracefully around her form. The kebaya is tailored to perfection, with a classic cut that hugs her upper body, accentuating her slender waist and feminine figure with a fitted bodice and flowing skirt that flares out elegantly as she moves. The sleeves of the kebaya are three-quarter length, with delicate lace trim that adds a touch of feminine charm to the design. The fabric of the kebaya is a batik, a traditional Indonesian textile that is famous for its intricate designs and vibrant colors. The batik fabric is made from high-quality cotton that is woven into a fine, lightweight material. The batik is dyed using a unique process that involves applying wax to certain areas of the fabric before dyeing it. The wax prevents the dye from penetrating those areas, resulting in intricate patterns that are unique to batik.
The kebaya drapes elegantly over her frame, its intricate patterns and vibrant colors drawing the eye of all those who pass by. The fabric is made of high-quality cotton, and its texture is soft and smooth to the touch. As one examines the kebaya closely, the intricate designs come into focus. Each line is carefully drawn, creating a symphony of shapes and forms that dance across the fabric. The wax resist process used to create the kebaya is evident in the texture of the fabric, which has a slight crinkle to it that adds depth and dimension to the design. The colors of the kebaya are a sight to behold. Rich blues, greens, and purples blend seamlessly with bright oranges, yellows, and pinks. The combination of colors is carefully chosen to create a harmonious balance, and each hue stands out against the others, creating a stunning visual effect. The kebaya is a testament to the artistry and skill of its creator, and it is clear that it has been made with great care and attention to detail.
The kebaya is more than just a piece of fabric; it is a work of art that tells a story through its intricate designs and vibrant colors. It is a symbol of the rich cultural heritage and artistic traditions that have been passed down through generations, and it is a testament to the enduring beauty of handmade craftsmanship. The woman's kebaya is intricately adorned with gold filigree. The gold filigree on the kebaya depicts a famous scene from the Hindu epic poem known as the Ramayana. The scene shows the deity Hanuman destroying Lanka, the capital city of the demon king Ravana. The filigree is delicate and intricate, weaving in and out of the fabric to create a stunning visual effect. Hanuman, the monkey god, stands tall and powerful, his muscular arms raised above his head as he prepares to strike a fatal blow to the city. The city of Lanka is depicted in intricate detail, with its towering walls and sprawling buildings rendered in fine gold thread. The filigree on the kebaya is so finely crafted that every detail can be seen, from the individual strands of Hanuman's fur to the tiny jewels adorning Ravana's crown. The gold thread shimmers and glows, adding a touch of opulence to the already striking design. The filigree is so fine that it seems to float above the surface of the kebaya, creating a stunning three-dimensional effect. The kebaya itself is a work of art, but the addition of the gold filigree takes it to another level. The gold thread catches the light, shimmering like a thousand stars as the woman moves. The combination of intricate designs and opulent materials creates a truly breathtaking piece that is sure to be treasured for generations to come. The intricate patterns create a stunning contrast against her tanned skin, emphasizing her natural beauty.
The woman wears a matching sarong that is draped around her waist and falls to the ground in graceful folds. The sarong is also made of high-quality cotton, and its texture is soft and smooth to the touch. The sarong is a beautiful mix of cyan and magenta, with delicate gold accents that catch the light as the wearer moves. The fabric is soft and smooth to the touch, made of a high-quality cotton that feels cool against the skin. The cyan and magenta colors blend together seamlessly, creating a stunning visual effect that is both vibrant and soothing to the eye. The design is made up of intricate floral patterns that are rendered in exquisite detail, with each petal and leaf carefully crafted to create a stunning visual effect. As the wearer moves, the sarong flows gracefully around her legs, its lightweight fabric moving with the gentle breeze. The gold accents catch the light, shimmering in the sun and adding a touch of glamour to the design.
The woman's hair is pulled back into an elegant bun, with small tendrils framing her face. Her hair is smooth and sleek, with not a single strand out of place. The bun is carefully arranged, with each strand of hair woven into a perfect coil, creating a sophisticated look that is both timeless and chic. The bun is adorned with delicate hair accessories, adding a touch of glamour to the woman's overall appearance. A few small flowers are nestled into the bun, their petals a vibrant pink that complements the woman's natural beauty. A few strands of hair are left loose to frame her face, giving her an ethereal quality that is both delicate and alluring. As the woman moves, the bun remains in place, a testament to the skill of the hair stylist who created it. It is a hairstyle that exudes confidence and poise, and the woman wears it with grace and elegance.
Her makeup is understated, with a soft pink lip and a hint of blush on her cheeks.
The woman's eyes are a captivating shade of grey, with a depth that draws in those who gaze into them. They are undeniably are striking, with a hint of gold in their depths that echoes the filigree on her kebaya. They are framed by long, dark lashes that curl delicately at the ends, enhancing the allure of her already stunning features. Her eyes are expressive, shifting subtly with each passing emotion, conveying her thoughts and feelings without a single word spoken. There is a sense of passion and vitality that emanates from her eyes, reflecting the energy and excitement of the crowded market, and they seem to hold within them the power to inspire and motivate those around her. They are both warm and inviting, and at the same time, enigmatic and mysterious, leaving those who gaze upon them with a sense of wonder and awe.
As she scans the crowd, she spots the warrior named Perry, standing tall and imposing in the center of the square.
The woman approaches Perry with a confident gait, her eyes locked on his. There's a sense of determination in her stride, and her passion and liveliness seem to intensify as she gets closer.
"Selamat pagi" she says, then seems to catch her self "I mean, good morning, stranger." Her voice carries just the faintest trace of an Indonesian accent, adding an exotic charm to her already alluring presence.
"My name is Dewi, and I'm a local cloth merchant. I often set up my stall in this market to trade with the townsfolk and the Roamer merchants that travel from the wastes of the Outback to hawk their wares. One sees a great many things in this bazaar, but I confess I've never seen anything quite like this -- what exactly did you just do to tame this great beast? I've heard stories that they sometimes even eat their handlers if the trainers are careless, or simply unlucky."
Clever Indio realises there is a potential for profit here.
HE didn't much like attention, but Perry didn't seem to mind it much.
The best way to hide is often in the shadow of someone great, or someone at least perceived to be greater than oneself.
And if people were focusing on Perry, Indio would be free to look for credits while they were distracted.
In addition, if he was a known associate of Perry, it could lead to a trickle down effect of profit to him as well.
And merchants were known gossips, it was know, wasn't it?
He'd have to help Perry sell himself, and that was just the ticket.
Since he had been keeping close to Perry anyway, to guard his back and all, he was in a perfect position.
"Oh, our Perry here is a man of many talents, and he keeps most of them close to his chest.
But you can take it from me, he is a man who can do great deeds, especially after he has had his breakfast, heh."
"Fear is the mind killer, and Perry, he has little fear, of anything.
And I know that, because I know things, that's what I do."
Clever Indio realises there is a potential for profit here.
HE didn't much like attention, but Perry didn't seem to mind it much.
The best way to hide is often in the shadow of someone great, or someone at least perceived to be greater than oneself.
And if people were focusing on Perry, Indio would be free to look for credits while they were distracted.In addition, if he was a known associate of Perry, it could lead to a trickle down effect of profit to him as well.
And merchants were known gossips, it was know, wasn't it?
He'd have to help Perry sell himself, and that was just the ticket.
Since he had been keeping close to Perry anyway, to guard his back and all, he was in a perfect position."Oh, our Perry here is a man of many talents, and he keeps most of them close to his chest.
But you can take it from me, he is a man who can do great deeds, especially after he has had his breakfast, heh.""Fear is the mind killer, and Perry, he has little fear, of anything.
And I know that, because I know things, that's what I do."
"Fear is the mind killer?" Dewi repeats Indio's statement, the elegant arch of the raven-black eyebrow over her right eye peaking noticeably in concert with her query, "I've heard that before -- more than a few times. I've not heard it so often from the lips of one such as yourself -- I suppose you're aware those are the opening words of the Litany against Fear. It's a common form of prayer which the Roamer Clans that inhabit the wastes of the Outback refer to as a mahrīgar or a marġaven, among other titles. An old Roamer soothsayer -- what they call a mārkarēk -- once told me the story behind it. He was part of a Monsoon Season delegation to Bastion City from the Kamyar Bayat Clan of the Nekodapangaribuan Lightning Lands, which lie to the south of the EHRA territories in New South Wales, nearer the jungle coast that faces the Isle of Tasman. If you ask around here, you'll hear a fool's share of wild tales about the region."
"Anyway, the old soothsayer related the following to me with a gap-toothed grin -- in the ancient days before the Coming of the Rifts, there lived the great Imam Paul Atreides in the lands far to the west, where the True God Buddhallah called forth the Latter Prophet, the Second Muhammad, Aḥmadmaḥmūd-Waḥīdmāḥīyāsīn. Imam Paul was among the chosen and immaculate decedents of the Prophet Aḥmadmaḥmūd, the Holy Family of the ahulul bayt who carried his revelatory nūr or light to the peoples of the desert whose faith in the True God had waned since the distant days of the First Seal."
"The sayings or ahadith of these immaculate descandents relate that Imam Paul learned the Litany from the wise women of the Benegeserit, an ancient order of Soothsayers who had long served as advisors to the Vicarius of the city of Rum, first voice of the God in Heaven. This is the same city where the Zensunnis of the Roamers say the Prophet Isa the Crucified was bound upon two spikes and tortured with hot irons and a raging fire until the Creator God Budhalla sent down a shinning phalanax of halo-shrowded arhants from the Lotus Heavens to sever his bonds. Then the Crucified Prophet stepped forth from his bonds and ascended in a pillar of fire to the Lotus Throne of the Maitreya Buddha at the footstool of the True God. Prophet Isa whispered the Litany to his sister Mariyam in words without sounds as he stepped forth into the pillar of fire, and it was handed down by the sisterhood founded by the prophet's sister from one to the other until it as given to the young woman that would become the first wife of the Imam."
"The faithful Zennsunnis of the Roamers recite the Litany methodically on prayer beads 108 times a day -- and even the less pious also invoke it frequently in moments of doubt or pain."
"So I suppose my question is -- are you among the believers -- the community the Roamers refer to as the al-muʼminūn -- in the Buddhislamic Faith, or have you come to knowledge of the Litany in some other fashion?"
Indio raises an eyebrow, here was a chance to come of as even more knowledgeable than he really was.
However...
Telling a lie against someone who knows about what you lie about was a suckers game, better to be truthful here.
"Neither actually, "Fear is the mind killer, yet he who fears nothing is a fool.
The path is to confront your fear, to use it and never let it control you."
Those are the lines of the teachings of the Mystics of Bronze, and I once came across a few of their teaching manuals, I took them in trade for fixing a generator for a caravan that came through here a year or so ago."
And I ended up having to pulp them for raw material to patch up my walls at home. I wish people would pay me in credits more often.
Indio raises an eyebrow, here was a chance to come of as even more knowledgeable than he really was.
However...
Telling a lie against someone who knows about what you lie about was a suckers game, better to be truthful here."Neither actually, "Fear is the mind killer, yet he who fears nothing is a fool.
The path is to confront your fear, to use it and never let it control you."
Those are the lines of the teachings of the Mystics of Bronze, and I once came across a few of their teaching manuals, I took them in trade for fixing a generator for a caravan that came through here a year or so ago."And I ended up having to pulp them for raw material to patch up my walls at home. I wish people would pay me in credits more often.
"Mystics of Bronze?" the merchant woman repeats the phrase, seeming to ponder the meaning, "I haven't heard of them -- I wonder if the Litany has a common origin with this aphorism? There are certainly stories that some of the beliefs of the First Seal stem from the lands of the Inner Sea far to the west from some time like 10,000 years ago. Some call it the Hyperborian or Antedeluvian Age -- there are stories about giants and fallen angels and other visitors from the heavens. It's all rather hard to imagine, but then again it was so many millennia ago."
"Who are these Mystics of Bronze whose wisdom seems to echo the teachings of the Zennsunnis of the Outback?"
Clever Indio realises there is a potential for profit here.
HE didn't much like attention, but Perry didn't seem to mind it much.
The best way to hide is often in the shadow of someone great, or someone at least perceived to be greater than oneself.
And if people were focusing on Perry, Indio would be free to look for credits while they were distracted.In addition, if he was a known associate of Perry, it could lead to a trickle down effect of profit to him as well.
And merchants were known gossips, it was know, wasn't it?
He'd have to help Perry sell himself, and that was just the ticket.
Since he had been keeping close to Perry anyway, to guard his back and all, he was in a perfect position."Oh, our Perry here is a man of many talents, and he keeps most of them close to his chest.
But you can take it from me, he is a man who can do great deeds, especially after he has had his breakfast, heh.""Fear is the mind killer, and Perry, he has little fear, of anything.
And I know that, because I know things, that's what I do."
The Roamer warriors that had recently emerged from the armored truck regard Perry's miraculous ensorcelment of the immense mutant with awe. One of the two warriors outfitted with armor made out of the scaly hides of a komodo dragon mutters the following prayer, "O Mighty Buddhallah, sublime universal form of the entire universe, protect me from my front, behind me, from my right and my left, and from above me, and I seek refuge in Your Magnificence and at the Blessed Lotus Feet of Your Throne from being taken unaware from beneath me."
Perry hadn't meant to get so close to the beast. He'd performed the trick before, of course, countless times, although not on anything even remotely this size and he was pleasantly surprised it worked, although his intention was to stay out of the fray.
He gives the big badger a pat on the nose. "Good beastie."
And then he takes a fresh look around. The two clans of Roamers stood at the precipice of conflict, and they stand there still. Still. As in, not doing anything. He wonders what they could possibly be thinking. On one side, the beast tamers have just been deprived of their greatest asset. If the two clans were evenly matched before, surely this will be a slaughter now. And on the other side, the Roamers have not yet taken to their greater asset, the truck and its four heavy machine guns. What in the hells are they waiting for?
And then a merchant approaches with fine clothes and philosophy.
Perry suddenly laughs! "What did I say? This is certainly an interesting day!"
He does not interrupt the conversation between the woman and Indigo, but he makes a mental note to chat her up later - she's a damned fine lookin' female.
Instead he addresses the Roamers. "So what now? This doesn't seem like much of a fight anymore. Maybe you beast tamers should just apologize for whatever it is this other clan says you've done, and shake hands and we'll all go get beers. Then nobody has to die today, the town won't get wrecked, and we can all get back to focusing our energy on enjoying what little life has to offer. What do you say?"
"Weeeell, the manuals were a bit vague, deliberatly so I suspect.
I think, or at least suspect that the manuals were released into the world as bait. It's likely they use them to incite people into finding them, as a trial possibly.
But they speak about teaching people the mystic arts, with the ultimate goal to enact some sort of transformation.
Possibly literally transforming them into people of bronze.
Sort of like...internal alchemy? But instead of lead to gold, flesh into bronze."
Indio shrugs, he knew he could get a little into talking about things, it sure beats being shot at though, which is what he had half expected would be happening around now.
"So, uh...did you need something repaired by any chance?"
Perry hadn't meant to get so close to the beast. He'd performed the trick before, of course, countless times, although not on anything even remotely this size and he was pleasantly surprised it worked, although his intention was to stay out of the fray.
He gives the big badger a pat on the nose. "Good beastie."
And then he takes a fresh look around. The two clans of Roamers stood at the precipice of conflict, and they stand there still. Still. As in, not doing anything. He wonders what they could possibly be thinking. On one side, the beast tamers have just been deprived of their greatest asset. If the two clans were evenly matched before, surely this will be a slaughter now. And on the other side, the Roamers have not yet taken to their greater asset, the truck and its four heavy machine guns. What in the hells are they waiting for?
And then a merchant approaches with fine clothes and philosophy.
Perry suddenly laughs! "What did I say? This is certainly an interesting day!"
He does not interrupt the conversation between the woman and Indigo, but he makes a mental note to chat her up later - she's a damned fine lookin' female.
Instead he addresses the Roamers. "So what now? This doesn't seem like much of a fight anymore. Maybe you beast tamers should just apologize for whatever it is this other clan says you've done, and shake hands and we'll all go get beers. Then nobody has to die today, the town won't get wrecked, and we can all get back to focusing our energy on enjoying what little life has to offer. What do you say?"
The grexxaitten trainer frowns, casting his gaze across to his awestricken opponents from an enemy clan.
"Friend, I don't know you from Adam the Father before the Flood, or any of his children. Those over there are ghillmaan -- I guess the translation for that into your language is something like 'slave warriors' -- from the Erturgalba'athan Clan of the Roamers. You can tell they're a different tribe from us by how they're outfitted."
The man gestures at the colorful thylacine hide with which he is garbed.
"You see here -- this is the hide of a Tasmanian tiger, and it's the common dress of the traders and grexxaitten tamers, our Clan's word for this the handlers of the grexxaitten is akmetzhanovakmetzhan. The Sain uu Tobok, my clan, have long been at war with the Erturgalba'athan Clan." He points at the five warriors who stepped out of truck.
"You see the two of them that have armor made out of komodo dragon skins? That's the clan armor of the Erturgalba'athan Clan."
"We've been enemies a long time -- there are a bunch of stories about it. Currently, there's a dust up about control of the Well of Hoshur, an oasis that lies on the border of our two territories. You see, the leader of their clan -- they call him the Quturkhagan -- has decided that the Well belongs to his clan, even though we've used it for generations, and it lies near the grexxaitten spawning grounds which are our hereditary birthright from Tohti Ashkaya -- the pratyeka angel and heavenly patron of our clan who takes the form of a Tasmanian tiger with angelic wings. She endowed the Well and its spawning grounds upon us at the beginning of the Second Dreaming after the Coming of the Rifts."
"The Erturgalba'athan Clan abhors magic and relies only on the powers given to them by their divine patron -- an angel that appears in the form of mutated megafauna lizard that they believe to be the chief angelic minister of the True God Buddhallah, as well as the keeper of wisdom. They doubtless now believe that you are a servant of the Devil, and are reconsidering their intention to attack us, at least for the moment. Their clan leader, because of the aforementioned dispute, had forbid my clan from visiting the market -- not that he has any right to do so, but there you have it. I can assure you that, even if they've currently backed down a little, we haven't seen the last of them -- not by a thin or thick measure."
Perry considers this reply. "Servant of the Devil! Well, I can assure you there's a bit of the devil in me, yes." He winks at the beautiful merchant woman.
"But I serve no such fiend, nor any woman or man, for that matter, and no abomination which steps through the rifts. My faith comes from my dear departed parents, and I believe we are only stardust, assembled by the Creator to carry out our business as we see fit in this incredibly brief time that is ours. Stay in school or die in prison, either way it's my decision!
"Now I understand you have chosen not to cooperate with each other, though you live out in the wastes where resources are scarce. Fight for them, as you will, nobody cares. Kill each other with gusto! But don't do it here. These people are scraping by as it is and don't have patience for your feud. I recommend you do what you have always done in Bastion - trade fairly and be welcomed!
"Oh, and you may want to fix that chain before your beast returns to form."
Perry considers this reply. "Servant of the Devil! Well, I can assure you there's a bit of the devil in me, yes." He winks at the beautiful merchant woman.
"But I serve no such fiend, nor any woman or man, for that matter, and no abomination which steps through the rifts. My faith comes from my dear departed parents, and I believe we are only stardust, assembled by the Creator to carry out our business as we see fit in this incredibly brief time that is ours. Stay in school or die in prison, either way it's my decision!
"Now I understand you have chosen not to cooperate with each other, though you live out in the wastes where resources are scarce. Fight for them, as you will, nobody cares. Kill each other with gusto! But don't do it here. These people are scraping by as it is and don't have patience for your feud. I recommend you do what you have always done in Bastion - trade fairly and be welcomed!
"Oh, and you may want to fix that chain before your beast returns to form."
The lan Sain uu Tobok grexxaitten trainer -- what he'd just called an akmetzhanovakmetzhan -- grimaces at the broken chain, and walks over to procure new bonds for the immense mutant beast. This time, he attaches three of the massive chains, each made of seven links. He wraps the three bonds in another black cord of some kind of synth.
"Weeeell, the manuals were a bit vague, deliberatly so I suspect.
I think, or at least suspect that the manuals were released into the world as bait. It's likely they use them to incite people into finding them, as a trial possibly.
But they speak about teaching people the mystic arts, with the ultimate goal to enact some sort of transformation.
Possibly literally transforming them into people of bronze.
Sort of like...internal alchemy? But instead of lead to gold, flesh into bronze."Indio shrugs, he knew he could get a little into talking about things, it sure beats being shot at though, which is what he had half expected would be happening around now.
"So, uh...did you need something repaired by any chance?"
"Alchemy you say? Well, that makes a certain amount of sense. I've heard the Benegeserit passed on mysterious knowledge of the transformation of water into deadly poison, and vice versa. Maybe the traditions have a common source? Who can say?"
"Repaired -- well, now that you mention it," the woman's voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, "I wouldn't exactly say repair... more like inspect? I'm a weaver by trade, but I also deal in salvage as a diverting, and sometimes profitable, side venture. And I recently received a rather mysterious find from some of my reliable sources -- outrunners for the Sain uu Tobok Clan who found a strange wreck in the Outback."
Indio feels a momentary pang of disappointment, until he realises that there might be something here after all.
He was a repairman, but maybe he might be able to do something with salvage as well.
Couldn't hurt to look, if there was credits on the line then why not?
"Well, sounds interesting. So you want me to take a look and maybe see if I can figure out what it is and/or does?"
Looking around for a moment, he eventually shrugs and offers a half smile.
"Well, nothing else seems to be going on of interest, so I guess I'm your man."
If it's anything electrical or mechanical, then my telemechanics should give me a good insight.
Perry considers this reply. "Servant of the Devil! Well, I can assure you there's a bit of the devil in me, yes." He winks at the beautiful merchant woman.
"But I serve no such fiend, nor any woman or man, for that matter, and no abomination which steps through the rifts. My faith comes from my dear departed parents, and I believe we are only stardust, assembled by the Creator to carry out our business as we see fit in this incredibly brief time that is ours. Stay in school or die in prison, either way it's my decision!
"Now I understand you have chosen not to cooperate with each other, though you live out in the wastes where resources are scarce. Fight for them, as you will, nobody cares. Kill each other with gusto! But don't do it here. These people are scraping by as it is and don't have patience for your feud. I recommend you do what you have always done in Bastion - trade fairly and be welcomed!
"Oh, and you may want to fix that chain before your beast returns to form."
Dewi catches Perry's eye -- "Are you going to come along and look at my find too?" She chuckles, "Maybe you can work some of your magic on it too?"
Perry is being pulled between at least three different people talking to him. Something the merchant woman says catches his ear. "Excuse me, you want me to work my magic on your behind? That can't be what you said. But if it is, or if that's on the table, then I'd be happy to. I think we're done here anyway."
Perry points at Noah and Zithara. "Hey you and you - wanna come along. You look like you can hold your own if things go bad in a hurry. Me and Indio could probably use the muscle. I'm sure there'll be something in it for you. There always is. My name's Perry, as it happens."
Perry is being pulled between at least three different people talking to him. Something the merchant woman says catches his ear. "Excuse me, you want me to work my magic on your behind? That can't be what you said. But if it is, or if that's on the table, then I'd be happy to. I think we're done here anyway."
Perry points at Noah and Zithara. "Hey you and you - wanna come along. You look like you can hold your own if things go bad in a hurry. Me and Indio could probably use the muscle. I'm sure there'll be something in it for you. There always is. My name's Perry, as it happens."
The cloth merchant frowns at Perry, "Well, you've got quite a mouth you, haven't you, lad? You kiss your blessed mother goodnight with those lips?"
Perry returns the merchant's frown. "I just explained to you that my parents are dead, so no. On second thought, you're on your own."
He turns to see Noah heading off, leaving him standing between the tribes with Indio and the cyberknight. "You know Indio, I've had enough excitement for one day. I'm going to go get a beer. You're welcome to join me, but since you're my agent now I'll insist you buy the first round."
Perry returns the merchant's frown. "I just explained to you that my parents are dead, so no. On second thought, you're on your own."
He turns to see Noah heading off, leaving him standing between the tribes with Indio and the cyberknight. "You know Indio, I've had enough excitement for one day. I'm going to go get a beer. You're welcome to join me, but since you're my agent now I'll insist you buy the first round."
The cloth merchant issues an audible huff under her breath as Perry commences a search for liquid libations of strong spirit.
"Well, business before pleasure. I'll have a look at the merchandise and join you after.
Meet you at "The Buff 'Ro" in a bit?"
Then he turns back to Dewi and smiles his half smile again.
"No time like the present, shall we go and have a look?"