The Wastelands

#1

The wind howled as a dark figure raced across the desert plains. The sun was going down as darkness crept in. It would be freezing soon. A low hum came from the engine of the ancient speeder. One of the only ones in existance from the Old Earth. It's once steel casing had rusted to a near vibrant red. Wires appeared to of escaped in places, and there was an occasional spark emitting from the engine. Marcus leaned forward to gain some speed. Time was running out.

The sky had now turned a hazy orange, and half the sun disappeared behind the mountians. Trying to fight off exhaustion, Marcus pinched his face. His sight became hazy, his eyes drooped, and he could feel his grip loosen.....BANG!! The front of the speeder went out of control. He tried to steer it still, not bothering to stop. A small fire had ignited the engine! Linda...she....she needs me.

He was trying not to panic, but the hopelessness of the situation was seeping in. He turned suddenly, flying right out of his seat. His speeder skidded on it's side, which put out the fire. It stopped inches from his head. His vision began to blur. Crawling towards his speeder he felt for his gun. After blindly tossing his hand, he grasped the strap. He tried to stand, it took all his might just to do it.

Darkness sweeped over the desert wastes, swallowing the light and engulfing Marcus in blackness. He stumbled a bit before falling to his knees. Linda...Linda... In silence he fell.

I just want to say that this is based in an apocoliptic future where most technologies(phones, firepower, cars, etc.) have been buried under the sands. Most people are afraid of technology, although others use it to better themselves. Not many people have even seen guns. And lastly, Marcus isnt dead, he just needs some help :)

Re: The Wastelands

#2

Darius was watching his sunset like he always did. It was his, and his alone. No one else was ever around to see it, and he liked it that way. It was almost sacred to him, he calmed himself, and collected his thoughts and, he thought, some last remnant of warmth from the retreating sun then.
Darius saw a shadow cross his sunset. His sunset Little more than a fuzz in the wind, but he knew it was big enough to be something alive, at least for now.
And his was one of the few caves with clean water for miles. It was a fight to keep it clean, too.
Lighting a quick fire and filling a skin of some other unfortunate creature with his precious water, he struck out over the now cold sand toward where he saw the blur fall.
At least I lizaded when they was still lazy on tha rocks. They wez lots of em too, fer once.
As Darius approached the blur, he looked back to make sure his fire was still burning. It was: he had learned over the years how to make them last long and hot in this place.
Darius nudged the lump of a body with his foot. "Yeh still with me? eh?"
He kneeled down next to the man and rolled him over so he could dribble some of the water in his mouth.
"Come on, then. Yez still breathin. Wake up now."

Re: The Wastelands

#3

Cain rode his pack camel quickly through the desert. Striding at over 15 feet tall, the pack camels resembled nothing of ancient earth's camels. Genetic engineering had changed and created many species of animal. This was one. Able to run for great durations at high speeds, and able to survive for two months without water, these animals were invaluable in the desert.

Cain was on a hunt. His quarry was named Darius, and it had eluded him far too long. Cain hoped that the duration of his Pack Camel was greater than Darius's mount, or else he would be eluded by yet one more person.

Re: The Wastelands

#4

Szithar, late of the Skikudis tribe of scavengers mounted a low rise, surveying the bleak and blasted landscape through a polarized glass filter. The glass reflected back green light, letting Szithar see quite well despite the often blinding glare. The heat was intense, but the Skikudis didnt fear things like a bit of heat. Szithar could feel a trickle of sweat run down it's spine, buried deep underneath several layers of polymer sheathing, and scavenged steel and synthmetal plates. The sweat was fine, the suit would catch it, draw it through a filter in an hour or so it would be drinking water.

As the sun finally dropped, Szithar came across fresh animal tracks, some sort of camel, and another creature. Either lost, explorers, or criminals to be out this far from an outpost or bunker. Szithar hefted it's bam-stick and turned to follow the trail where it might lead. Traveling with company was safer, and if it turned out that the others were weak, well survival was survival. The heap of scrap metal and plastic moved towards a distant flicker of a fire.

(OOC - The Skikudis should be fairly well known, most tell that they used to be human, but were eaten and spit out as monsterous hunks of junk. Others tell that they are demons of destroyed technology, left broken to scout the wastelands for the remaining peaces of their greatness. Stories aside, the Skikudis are survivors, scavengers of technology, the pieces if not actual devices, and the stories of murder, rape and cannibalism are not quite justified. Either way, most people give the metal clad creatures a good deal of respect, and a wide bearth as well.)

Re: The Wastelands

#5

"Right then. Yeh'll hafta get better back in me rock then."
Picking up the barely breathing body in his sturdy arms, Darius started carrying him back towards his fire in his cave.
The moon shone cold down on him, and his neck prickled.
Nah, one man out here's odd enough. There's little life to go aroun to have me thinkin I'm watched
At his cave he set the man down near to the fire to warm him but not scorch him, and went to check his "lizad" snares. They were empty, as expected. "Awweell. I'll get usm a cupple from the cold rock."
He went and dribbled some more water in the mans mouth, and then went to a corner of the cave that had never seen sunlight, or live critters, as far as Darius knew. From there he grabbed 2 very dead, very frozen lizards and some sharpened sticks.
Putting the lizards by the fire, he waited for them to thaw enough to skewer and then roasted them, setting one aside for the unconscious man.

Re: The Wastelands

#6

"Uhhh...this sucks" Marcus muttered, eyes still closed. His entire body seemed as if it was on fire, and yet frozen still at the same time. It was hard to move. When he finally opened his eyes, he could see the blurry outline of fire. As his eyes focused more, he could also see the outline of a man. Had he noticed me? Marcus sat up.

"I've got three questions stranger. Who are you, where am I, and what did you do to my speeder?"

Re: The Wastelands

#7

"Eh? Speeder? Wazzat?" Darius munched on some lizard. "Tha, tha pile of smokin scrap yeh was lying next ta? Yeh. Tha was a speeder wazznit. Useta have me one of them. That one of yers, though, is shot to shit. Smokin evry which way, sand all up init, probly half buried by the wind by now, I'd say."
Munch, munch
"An I'm Darius n this's meh rock. Have some lizad." he thrust the other lizard towards the man "An why donchu tell me yer name while yeh eat, an how come yez was all the way out here."

Re: The Wastelands

#8

Marcus couldnt help but smile. "My name is Marcus Duran. I'm a scavenger", He said, picking up the lizard. "But Im not here to dig up the relics of the past. My little sister was taken from me by some bad men. Harriers of course. I had been chasing them for 24 hours straight, and I guess my speeder couldnt take the abuse." Marcus bit into the lizard's belly. It would have tasted better if it wasnt for the scales, which he had to spit out.

"Hey..wheres my rifle?"

Scavengers are usually seen as scum. They are modern day treasure hunters, always raiding old structures for valubales they sell to Junkers. Harriers are the raiders of the desert. Harriers are divided into different clans, and often war with each other. To tell each other apart they have different tattoos etched into the back of their right hands. This way they can tell who is in their clan.

Re: The Wastelands

#9

"Harriers? Near here? Them stinkin scum'll get a taste of grumblegrumble anyway if yer sisters in trouble I know how teh get through most of these caves to where more people are. There's just not a lot of good water."
"I wazznt really worried much bout yer stuff when I was haulin yer arse across the sand. If yeh really want, we can go look for it in tha mornin, but it'll probly be buried by then."
He went and got some more lizards to cook.
"If you wanna be headn out to get yer sister, yeh'll need yer strength, and someone who knows these parts. Cant just blaze off through the damn sand, eh? Ha. Look how yeh got last time."
He rubbed the glove on his right hand unconsciously, staring into the fire.

Re: The Wastelands

#10

"Dont help me anymore then you already have. You dont know these men, they are more dangerous then you could possably imagine." He took another bite of his lizard before speaking. "I'll stay the night, but I must leave in the morning by myself. Thanks anyway."

Re: The Wastelands

#11

"Suit yerself. These here caves are tha fastest way teh get teh where I last knew of some blasted Harriers. But its right easy to get lost in there, and yeh'll right cook on tha sand."
Darius eyed Marcus carefully
"An I've had me a few, dealings with tha blighters mehself. Ifn it's the same clan that was here afore, I know a bit of how theys like to work. But it's yehr choice to make, boy, an I'll help how I can."
He tossed Marcus a rough blanket.
"Meanwhile, get some sleep. And don't roll inta tha fire, these blankets hafta last me. Wake me if yeh want me with yeh, othawise, there's nothin here to "scavenge" so you can have some lizads and water with you if yeh want."
Darius went over to the little nest he had for himself, and curled up into a little ball, back to the fire, face to the exit. He slept lightly, old habits keeping watch, not letting him forget why he was out here.

Re: The Wastelands

#12

Marcus caught the blanket in his hands and listened to what Darius had to say. He layed on the blanket, a thousand thoughts jammed into his head. He seems very capable of himself....but should I really bring him into this? This was after all my fault. Marcus lay over on his back, staring at the ceiling. He held his right hand up to his face, so that the knuckles faced him. He gave a quick glance in Darius' direction, to make sure he was asleep.

Then, slowly, he took off the leather glove around it. A red tattoo in the shape of an alien design stared back at him. The mark of Cyrus, the man who had once saved his life, and later condemed it. What would he think of me if he knew the truth? Who I really am? Marcus quickly hid his hand in his glove once more. It makes no difference, he has his uses. I'll allow him to help as much as he can, then leave him. No one can stand in the way. Laying on his side, he let his exhaustion take him, as he embraced the sweet enchantment's of sleep.

Re: The Wastelands

#13

As Szithar approached the camp, it pulled it's weapon, an axe with a head fashioned of ancient glass. At least the tribe thought it was glass though none of them could break it. More than a few mutants and cannibals had bled out on the vicious fangs of the almost star shaped axehead. Szithar sighed softly and mounted the small hillock that surrounded the travelers and their camp.

Tzeench du-uur nahgra, gah banaa shuel!? Szithar asked in the quasi-reverberating tone of a Skikudis voice box. The axe was held ready, but not raised...yet.

Re: The Wastelands

#14

Marcus awoke suddenly. Could it be? He searched for somthing, anything to use as a weapon. What he found was the strap to his rifle. But the rifle was not attached. "Useless!" he muttered. Then quickly, he grabbed the sharpened stick his lizard was previously roasting on. Marcus shook Darius as he slept. "Get up!" He whispered harshly. "We've got company!" He made his way to the edge of the cave opening. He stared into the empty blackness of the night. "Who's there! Show yourselves!"

Re: The Wastelands

#15

Jainah Siqu, badhra. The junk person said, a glittering glass axe dangling from it's hand. Badhra, ne voqq reull?, the thing turned it's metal and plastic draped face to the side, as if expecting an answer. After a moment, it looked at the stick in Marcus' hand.

Badhra, to speak trade do you? it asked again, switching languages.

Re: The Wastelands

#16

Marcus jumped. "Whoa!" He gasped. He must be one of those...ah d**n what were they called again? Skikudis! Thats it. Lowering his makshift weapon, Marcus spoke. "Trade? I've got nothing to trade anymore. Unless you're willing to dig up my broken down speeder a few clicks back." Marcus had heard stories of these things. Remnants of the ancient world. A dying world. Feared like all that came from the past, they too were scavengers. Looking at the man, (I suppose he was once a man), he could see why others feared his kind.

"Thats a nice axe you've got there, bet you know how to use it too huh?" he asked. Glancing over to Darius, he saw he was still asleep. Oh he's gonna make a fine guide alright. "What language were you speaking before? It sounds real cool."

Re: The Wastelands

#17

Darius woke with a start when Marcus touched him. He got to his feet somewhat groggily. It was unlike him to sleep so soundly, that there would be-
oh shit.
I thought I lost them for good.
His first instinct was to bolt, but maybe, mehbe they weren lookin for him. mehbe this, this Marcus was who they was after, not him. He shoulda been fergotten by now, anyway. So he stood up the rest of the way, and looked inconspicuous against the wall. Well, as inconspicuous as you Could with your heart racing and fear beating through your veins.
Even after he'd been kicked out, the Skikudis still thought of his as ONE OF THEM, they still went after him until he hid his mark and went into hiding.
He kept silent, hoping that no one would remind themselves of who he was.

Re: The Wastelands

#18

Negev! to speak trade language you do, the Skikudis said. Time before to speak Skikuu, to speak language of Skikudis. The scavenger seemed amused by this and gave a raspy repetative sound that must have started as laughter but turned into a strange hiccuping metallic sound by the time it emerged from the voice box.

To call me Szithar, I alone and to seek company to make to travel. You are to call? it asked, sheathing the wicked ax in a holster fashioned specifically for it.

Re: The Wastelands

#19

It took a few seconds for Marcus to understand the Skukudis' broken english before he answered. "Wait..did you say you wanted to travel with me? Huh." Marcus smiled at himself. This isnt real... "Szithar right? My name's Marcus. And I'd love it if you could join me and my companion in the back here." He made sure to emphasize companion so that Darius would hear it. If he was awake that is. "But I have to warn ya, I'm looking for my sister, and nothing is going to slow me down. Partners?" He asked, extending his hand.

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Across the plains, on the side of the nearest canyon wall, a marksmen stood. His hair was long, thin, and greasy. His face was horribly misshapen. As if it had frozen halfway through being melted by the sun. In his right hand was a scoped rifle, god knew what model. In his left was a pair of ancient binoculars with one lens smashed in. His eyes were on his kill - Marcus. "Lucky to still be breathing little man." He said in defeat. "Lucky my bullet didnt hit your engine core. Bastard" The man spit what seemed like black tar at the ground. Then aimed his rifle; "Lets see you survive this..."

"Bardock! What are you doing?" Came a voice from behind. The man called Bardock jumped and turned around.

"Who's Tha.....oh. It's just you Sadus."

"You werent thinking of pulling that trigger a second time, were you?" Sadus said. His voice was harsh and deep. He stood a giant of a man, easily 6'7, and clad in black attire. His face was hidden behind a colorless mask, only his eyes could be seen. "Were you?" He asked again, more menacingly this time.

Bardock simply mumbled something like, "No, no....course not." Now walking towards Sadus.

"Good, Father wants him alive. We need The Seal if we are to carry out our plans."

"Well I dont see why we cant just kill him and then take The Seal from him. It's easier then dealing with that brat all day." He could not see his brother's face, but he knew he was smiling behind that mask of his.

Sadus said nothing at first. "Revenge can wait. We can kill him after we get The Seal."

Bardock's heart jumped at this. "And the B**ch?"

Sadus turned his head and gazed at his brother. "Why not.." at this Bardock gave a cheer. Sadus ignored it and continued to talk, "...but first we must cacth up with the others. New Mecca awaits."

Re: The Wastelands

#20

At "companion" Darius gave a start. So I'se getta go with em, eh? But he's talkin that damned mutant thing with em too. Given that it didn't seem to know, and even better, care, who Darius was, he was inclined to let it go. For now.
"Oh Szithar here - right? Szithar?" at some affirmation he continued "won' be slowen anybody down. They can move as fast as us, anyway, and from what I know longer. So it'll be up teh yeh, boy, well, up teh us anyway, not to slow, ah, him? down. Hope you havn' been ridin that speeder too long, makes yeh slow in tha foot after a while."
His nerves were sharp along his back, and the words came out of their own accord: "An my name's Darius, an I know these caves an tunnels an quite a bit bout the harriers that're s'posed teh have his sister." Shit. Darius hoped that the Skikudis wouldn't recognize his name in the trade tongue, and it was impossible to translate it into Skikuu, there was no word for it. He inwardly flinched, praying to whatever gods still listened that he hadn't royally f***d up.

Re: The Wastelands

#21

Svagadam! to be Negev! Szithar said with some sort of mechanical glee. The creature took the extended hand and gave it a solid shake. It was good to not be traveling alone...again. The name Dar-Yuus seemed to stick in the back of it's mind, but quite a few things did these days, the elders said it was a sign of mutation.

Re: The Wastelands

#22

Marcus winced just a bit as his new ally shook his hand.Strong arm that one. "Well I guess we should be getting some rest now, there's bound to be alot of work to be done tommorrow. Good night." He said, laying down to go to sleep. As he drifted off, he felt disgusted with himself. In all his years away from the clan he had never let anyone join him.

"I'm not weak, I dont need their help." said a voice.

"Yet you would have froze to death without Darius' help." Said another.

"That doesnt count", said The First Voice angrily We could of survived without him."

"Oh really?", The Second Voice asked, "And you find no shame in him guiding you through the tunnels then?"

"He has his uses." Marcus mumbled. "...thats all. And then I can be rid of him." Restless, Marcus stayed awake for hours until sleep finally came to him.

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Marcus awoke with a start, suddenly wide awake. His eyes burned with sweat. He looked around and saw he was the first one to wake up. Standing up he made his way to were last night's fire had previously been. His body was still sore from last night, but he did feel a little better. Out of a sudden desire, he made his way out to the desert wastes. After about 10 minutes or so, he could see the handle bars of his speeder. And so he started to dig, although he didnt really know why. Even if he could save the engine, too much sand had gotten into the ancient machine.

But then he found it without realizing it. His hand grabbed a smooth wooden handle, his finger hit the trigger guard. "My rifle" he said. Pulling it out, he was amazed at how little sand had gotten into it. "Probably wont fire, but at least it's something." Marcus made his way back to the cave to see the others were still asleep. He took a seat on a rock and began to put the strap back on his rifle.

Mrrraaaa! came a sound from deep within the cave. Marcus lifted his head up, looking into the darkness of the cave. It was very low, in fact he would never of heard it if the others were up. "Now what was that?"

Re: The Wastelands

#23

Darius awoke when Marcus returned, but remained still, doing his meditations differently than usual. He was unused to having others near him, and it made him a touch, uncomfortable, yet he slept, strangely, much more soundly.
When he heard the low "mrrraaaaa" come from the tunnels, he was surprised. Nothing except lizards ever came this close to where he lived, and those were too stupid to know what human smelled like. The sound was too quiet for Darius to identify what it had come from, but he was definitely completely awake now.
"I see yeh went an found yehr gun, eh?" he said, looking over at Marcus. "Ifn it shoots, see if yeh can shoot whate'er made that sound in tha caves. That is, if tha thing gets any closer. Righnow it shouldn' be any trouble."

Re: The Wastelands

#24

"I suppose you're right." Marcus said curtly as he readjusted his strap. When he got it to a comfortable level, he put it over his shoulder. He looked towards the Skikudus. Such a legendary creature, known far and wide, and feared by many. What would such a thing be doing here, alone? Although Marcus had let him join rather easily, he didnt really feel he had much choice. After all, he was weaponless at the time, and tired. If he had refused to help him, would he of attacked? Is he really alone?

After a moment of quite reflection, he decided to not let his guard down. Instead, he would watch it. Things may not be as they seemed, and in a world that died a bit each day, nothing seemed crazy. Nothing. Marcus turned to Darius. "So, whats for breakfast?"

Re: The Wastelands

#25

Szithar snapped off a second bite from a hunk of desert dried sand newt. The small creatures took a bit to dry, but lasted quite a while and the bones were pretty soft after a bit. Taste left something to be desired, but this moaning hole in the ground was a far cry from the sept at Czath Urhol. Szithar sighed, thinking for a moment of it's mate and the bitter words and the exile from the rest of the Skikudis. To the rest of the clan, Szithar was already dead but lacked the sense to simply end it with a bloody swing of it's glass star ax.

The speeder, however, brought a spark of interest to the salvager, or the junker, as some more familiar with them called them. Once the Dar-Yuus was done retrieving his far-fire staff, the SKikudis investigated the wreckage of the device. A cursory examination showed that the engine housing had been holed by a medium caliber round. The SKikudis jangled for a moment until it found a battered and heavily used wrench. The letters CRA F M were still visible on the drop forged metal, but the rest had been worn smooth by years of usage. The cover came free with some ease, and the state of the engine was plain.

Tvagash! Chi-hu esko ba vahaa! Szithar growled. The inner mechanisms were ruined. The bullet had let the protectant oil spew out, and once the flow had ended, sand had been free to take it's place. The surfaces of the power relays and shafts were pitted and scored from high heat and sand abrasion. The Skikudis unplugged one of the fuel lines and sniffed, pulling it's rebreather away from it's face. The scent of fuel seemed clean and the scavenger pulled a dingy plastic tube from a pocket, slipped it into the fuel line and drained what remained of the fuel oil into a synth-plastic bag. Fuel was always good, very valuable to the right folks, like ammunition, medical supplies and trinkets of the old ways.

((Any action going to happen, or is this going to stay exposition and backstory?))

Re: The Wastelands

#26

Mrraaaaa!

It happened again, louder this time. Marcus loaded his rifle. He waited. But then all was silent. He eased up a bit and turned around. "We need to find ou....Ahh!!" He couldnt finish his sentance, as a large hairy creature jumped on his back. Sharp claws slashed at his head frantically. "Mrrrraaaa! Mrrrraaa!!" It shouted. Marcus grabbed on of it's arms and threw it into the wall. Before Marcus could lift his rifle it had started sprinting towards him. He took aim, and missed. He pulled the lever and loaded another bullet in the chamber, but with lightning speed it had jumped on his chest, and vigorously attacked his face. Marcus fell down, trying to block his face.

Re: The Wastelands

#27

[OOC scras: marcus got the rifle, not darius. your skikudis got that confused, idk if that was on purpose or not

"Hey! Watch where yehr aimin tha thing!" Shouted Darius as a bullet whizzed past his head and sparked on the wall behind him. He grabbed one of the nearby loose rocks, and proceeded to bash the beast. He hadn't seen one of these in well over a year, and couldn't remember a thing about them.

Re: The Wastelands

#28

(OOC ~ I was drunk at the time :lol: )

Silently the Skikudis rose from it's crouch over the corpse of the speeder bike. The haft of the glass star axe felt good in it's hand, something solid, something real. Fear left corpses, action left enemy corpses, and Szithar moved with more speed than most people would expect from the junk encrusted nomads. The axe swung in a glittering arc and three of the five splayed glass teeth sunk deep into the ribcage of the creature atop Marcus. Blood spurted from the deep and jagged wounds, Szithar swung again, this time in a harder downward arc that drove the central, and largest spike grazing across the creature's spine.

Szithar's breathing was ragged, as the nomad swung the weapon with unrelenting precision.

Re: The Wastelands

#29

Dropping the glass axe back into it's holster, Szithar started an examination of the cave creature. (OOC - Bio-Terror, I guess a basic check to determine what it is, and if it has anything of use/value on it, and to make 100% sure it is dead and not just regenerating) The smell was something else, not just the smell of the creature, but the rank and coppery stench of blood filled the area. The axe was a potent weapon, but it was also a bloody flaying weapon as well. As such the corpses were remotely clean and their clothing and light armor generally worthless.

Re: The Wastelands

#30

Marcus got up and looked at the thing that had attacked him. The Skikudis had done a fine job in killing it, whatever it was. Then he aimed his rifle at it's head and fired. "Just to make sure it stays down." He explained. Marcus bent down to examine the claws on the creature. Six inches in length at least. Hmmm, about 3 across. Grabbing it's hand, he broke the bones connecting the finger to the knucle. Then he twisted it until it became loos inside the skin. With much digust, Marcus bit the finger off, and once more looked at the bladed finger. "This is razor sharp" he said, more to himself then anyone else.

Without a word he put it in his pocket. "I think we should leave before more show up. Unless we have anything else to do."

Re: The Wastelands

#31

To go, time it to do is. Szithar said in broken common. Szithar paused and looked back at the corpse of the creature and pulled out it's glass axe again. The Skikudis nomad grabbed one of the beast's arms and with several gory chops hacked the appendage free. Without ceremony, it flung the limb close to the firepile, slinging cooling blood across the sand. The nomad repeated with the other arm, moving with the composure of a butcher at work in his shop. A few more swings and the beast was little more than a bloody torso and scattered limbs. If to follow us, this to make his kind make think more than one time about hunting. The nomad said sheathing the weapon.

To be for time to make go?

Re: The Wastelands

#32

Darius hadn't been attacked in his cave for some time, and between that and everything else, was a bit shaken.
"Yeh. It's time fer us teh get goin. Somewhere back here I'se got a rifle...." he started muttering to himself, digging through behind where he kept the lizards frozen for his ancient rifle, along with a bag of miscellaneous items from his old camp. He could return some things, if his old friends were still alive and would even speak to him any longer.
He pulled back out of the nook, slung the rifle over his shoulder after making sure it was loaded, and put the bag over his other shoulder. "I'm ready ifn you all are"

sorry for the delay, and I'm going to be out again from friday till heaven knows when. If I have internet I'll post up but otherwise, feel free to run Darius.

Re: The Wastelands

#33

I guess I'll take Darius over for now.

Marcus and Darius locked eyes for a second, then Darius went deep into the cave. "Hey!" Marcus shouted, "What are you..."

"I kno what I'm doin!" Darius yelled. "Young mumble mumble. Darius went deep into the darkness. He suddenly pulled out a lantern, and the path erupted in light. Marcus followed him for what seemed liker hours. All around them were strange noises, scratching, yelps, and growls. No one spoke, not even a word. Marcus was wondering how much more he could take when they saw light.

"There" said Darius. "That there's the way out." As the three walked out of the tomb like tunnels, Marcus could see a black dot far into the distance. "Whats that?" He asked, pointing at the deseret image.

Darius squinted hard to see. "It..it must be New Mecca."

"The armored city?"
"The same."
"Then thats were I'm going. I thank you Darius, but this is were I leave you."

Darius spit into the sands. "To hell you are. Ima coming with ya, an there and nothin you can do bout it."

"You're pretty stubborn old man."
"I can say the same fer you young fella."

Marcus shrugged. "Lets get going then, I want to make it there with the sun still in the sky."

Re: The Wastelands

#34

Szithar thought little of the destination, New Mecca was as good as any other freehold or city. The Skikudis nomad trudged on behind the teo squabbling men.

Re: The Wastelands

#35

As marcus and crew approached the front gates of the city, he could see the small figure of a man.

"Who approaches?!" Yelled the blackened figure.

"Marcus Duran, Salvager. These are my companions, Darius and Szithar. We ask for your protection from he barren wastes."

The man atop the gates laughed viciously. "You'll find no protection here Marcus. For you or your friends. Open the gates to the betrayer! Bring him to Garris. On your orders!!"

Marcus was shocked, momentarily stunned by what was happening. Even New Mecca has fallen to them? The giant gates opened wide, with armed men awaiting them on the other side. They were dirtier and smelled of gunpowder and cheap booze. quickly Marcus fired at the men. two were shot dead, the others began to fire at them. "C'mon! we must find Linda!"

Re: The Wastelands

#36

Szithar grunted as a lead shot found it, burrowing deep into the layers of junk draped over it's frame. The Skikudis nomad went down hard. Laughing at their good luck as the others fled, three of the men approached the prone pile of junk. Skikudi nomads were rare enough that few if any had been killed in these parts. "What do you think's under there?" one asked prodding at the polarized green faceplate that covered the nomad's eyes. Fast a striking snake, the nomad unleashed it's ax, cutting two of the men down with a hard swing. Blood spattered as the glass teeth ripped through boot leather and tendon. If they survived, neither man would walk right again. Szithar swung again, catching the third man in the abdomen with the spiked ax head. The scream he made as the teeth tore through his groin and into his thigh was chilling.

Rebounding to it's feet, the nomad dispatched the closest of the three with a skull splitting hit, spilling blood and brains on the sand. Silently, it claimed one of their rifles, slammingt he bolt home and firing the weapon with deft precision until the shells were all expended.

Re: The Wastelands

#37

Darius followed Marcus to the cover of stacked barrels. He fired his rifle as Marcus reloaded his. "Now all this damn ruckus, we havent even ate yet!" He yelled, taking out a shooter on one of the rooftops. He glanced to his left to see Szithar whip out his axe; taking out three men. Marcus began to fire again.

"Stay here!" He barked, leaving him behind the barrrels. Darius gave him a dirty look, but stayed. Marcus charged a group of three harriers. They had no firearms, just shovels and sharpened sticks. He rolled out of the way as a makeshift spear soared towards him. Once on his feet he shot two bullets in the man's torso. The other two rushed him, but one fell dead before reaching him. The other swung his spade full force at Marus' head. He blocked it with his rifle, then kicked the man onto the ground. With the last shot in his clip the man was dead.

Then suddenly, Marcus felt a sharp pain in his side. He turned to see another harrier dig a rusted knife into his side. Marcus dropped to his knees in pain, dropping his rifle. Darius must of seen this, as the attacker fell dead next to Marcus. A single bullet in his head. Marcus pulled our the knife and reclaimed his rifle.

Re: The Wastelands

#38

Poorly to fight, are these New Mecca soldiers. Szithar said with what sounded like distain, though it could have been a loose piece in the nomad's voice box. It hefted the glass axe, examining the crimson gore that covered the wicked shaped head. Tvagash! Good to fight, yes? it asked Darius and Marcus. These humes were interesting company.