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[escaped lurker]

Ooh, fuck...

Get petaling. Dont fecking push, jump on and petal like some horrible thing that is going to kill you in various terrifying ways is about to start its experimentation on you

+1

+1

I am a bit uneasy about the prospect of exposing our back to it, but if we petal in a panicked state, we just might make it.

[Mr. Strange]

Ooh, fuck...

Get petaling. Dont fecking push, jump on and petal like some horrible thing that is going to kill you in various terrifying ways is about to start its experimentation on you

+1

+1

I am a bit uneasy about the prospect of exposing our back to it, but if we petal in a panicked state, we just might make it.

I see absolutely no way how this could go wrong. +1.

[Avis-Mergulus]

A shudder runs through your body. You leap up onto the railcar and fumble with the crank for a second: it's slippery, but your grip is vice-tight. If you could see your knuckles properly, you would have seen them whiten.

The crank turns, and the railcar takes off, gaining speed as it goes. You hear something bump the underside of the car. Then it's out of the shed, rolling quickly toward a railroad switch. A closed railroad switch, to be precise. It's a Y-shaped intersection between the main set of rails leading toward the brick train station, and the secondary set leading to the shed. The two sets of rails merge there, taking off toward the distant forest, and, supposedly, Dorshen. The lever that, er, switches the switch is right beside it.

Before you can find the brakes on the railcar, it bumps into the intersection, spilling you onto the ground right beside the switch lever. You reach out to pull it, then there's a scuttling noise behind you, and something grabs your foot. You twist your head around to look at it, and immediately regret this decision.

It's generally human-shaped - two arms, two legs, one head - and it's wearing a black leather coat of some sort. It's standing on all fours, looking up at you - its head is twisted 180° from the right position. Ants are crawling in and out of the pink, toothless hole where its mouth should be. It has no eyes.

Spoiler: Inventory (click to show/hide)

Steel bar (wielded)
Work clothing (worn)
Vereinian Royal Infantry coat (worn) In pockets: hold-out derringer (two shots), ID Coin x2, nail file
Vereinian Royal Infantry boots (worn)
Lighter (almost full)
Knife-blade
Water canister (carried)
Isandan passport
Isandan military registry ticket (lieutenant of reserve)
Siren pattern (on cardboard)

[escaped lurker]

G'day mate, anything I could help you with?
Being polite is key. Even if encountering the undead.

Take the Steel bar. Go for a homerun. Or for the head.
Actually, go for the head in both cases. If stabbing or hitting, really depends on how sharp that piece of steel was.



I thought about using the siren pattern instead, but as it's function seems to be tied to visual clues, it just might not work on something without eyes. Or something that is already quite dead. Also, we still have our trusty weapon at hand, whereas we would need to fumble that piece of paper undamaged out of our pockets, and take extreme care to show it to that thing, instead of looking at it ourself by accident. So.. yeah. Bad idea overall. Let us trust in the power of adrenaline instead!

[Avis-Mergulus]

You left the bar in the car - the crank has to be turned with both hands. You can try to reach it from here, but it's a stretch.

[Mr. Strange]

Crack that head open like it's a watermelon!
On second thought, no need to stop at the head. Keep hitting.

Damn ninja-fox. Use the knife, aim at the head! Or it's neck, spine, throat etc. till it falls off. If that fails, slash at the hand till it lets you go, then sprint for the bar.

[escaped lurker]

Kick it untill it backs off, then reach for the bar and an upright position.
Luckily enough, our legs can pack quite the punch - no wonder seeing as we use their muscles far more than our arms. So, kicking it for good measure is bound to yield some results, even while lying down, and initially only one foot free from its grasp.

Damn ninja-fox. Use the knife, aim at the head! Or it's neck, spine, throat etc. till it falls off. If that fails, slash at the hand till it lets you go, then sprint for the bar.

Knife-Blade
Swords and combat-knives have a hilt for a reason - even with a handle on them, your grip is bound to fail, easily leading your hand into your own blade. With only the blade of a knife, we will inflict grievious wounds on our fingers before we are able to kill that thing off, if even. Blunt force via kicks and steel bar seem quite more promising.

-1

[Aseaheru]

+1 to kicking, -1 to blade.
also, see about scooting back to the cart

[Prophet]

+1 to kicking, -1 to blade.
also, see about scooting back to the cart

+1

[Nunzillor]

+1 to kicking, -1 to blade.
also, see about scooting back to the cart

+1

+1, don't forget to grab the bar after kicking it away a little.

[Avis-Mergulus]

You jerk your other foot reflexively, slamming the royalist's steel-toed boot right into what passes for the thing's face. Strangely enough, it leaves a mark similar to a burn on its skin, and it recoils, scuttling backwards in jittering, broken movements.

You leap up instantly: strangely enough, you don't feel afraid. There's a strange feeling, like there's a mortally terrified Fredric Owlbury somewhere inside your mind, locked in a glass jar, unable to get out while his clever, clever mortal shell, piloted by another clever, clever Fredric, uncoils like a spring, hand reaching for the bar...

Just when your hand closes around it, the creature leaps forward, slinking along the ground, and takes a swipe at your stomach.

It's not anything special. No claws, no deathly cold, no nothing. Just some dude punching you, and not even very hard. You bring the bar down on its head and it slumps over, its skull shattered.

A moment passes. Then the ants start evacuating its ruined head. No. There's too many of them. They're spreading around the body in a pool of oily black.

Looking past the cart, you can see the patch of shifting ground near the shed erupt. Things come pouring out. They're wearing bits of mismatched uniforms and rags, and they look like if some collossal child took some dolls, and turned their limbs every which way about, and probably took a lighter to the plastic, too. They walk, run, and scurry - mostly towards you. There's approximately fifty meters between you and the thing that leads them, a...probably it was a man at some point in its career, but now it walks on enormously long and thin legs, which it places on the ground with almost comical care. Its arms dangle from grotesquely distorted shoulders, wider than they have any right to be for his scrawny ribcage. The fingers drip with sticky fluid.

Spoiler: Inventory (click to show/hide)

Steel bar (wielded)
Work clothing (worn)
Vereinian Royal Infantry coat (worn) In pockets: hold-out derringer (two shots), ID Coin x2, nail file
Vereinian Royal Infantry boots (worn)
Lighter (almost full)
Knife-blade
Water canister (carried)
Isandan passport
Isandan military registry ticket (lieutenant of reserve)
Siren pattern (on cardboard)

Spoiler: GM's note (click to show/hide)

There was a complex series of rolls involved in that. But I wont show them hahahaha Kick 5, Reach 3 - thing gets attack of opportunity, rolls 3. Your attack is 6.

[Aseaheru]

Time to GTFO.
Carting awaaaaayyy!

[escaped lurker]

Time to GTFO.
Carting awaaaaayyy!

+1

I mean, we probably could take out a good deal of them, over time and with enough care, but I frankly see no reason to do so. Let's leave before we wake up something than can harm us. Or get surrounded by them.

[Nunzillor]

Time to GTFO.
Carting awaaaaayyy!

+1!

[Mr. Strange]

Time to GTFO.
Carting awaaaaayyy!

It's carting time, yo!
+1

...that's if we can, um... switch the switch, or whatever we need to do with it to go forward.

Remember to chech your stomach and swat away any ants that thing might have left behind.