"Will do, Steve."
As we step out, brandish fistful of moss. Does it seem to react to the environment in any unusual way? Does it scream, perhaps?
In any case, move on quietly. Onward to mystery.
It appears to react about as much and as obviously as a normal patch of moss.
((That went well. I'm guessing I got a Dex and possibly Str boost. Quick, somebody gimme a Katana. A DMR one. 
))
Jason hops out of the shuttle, looking around. He felt the urge to fight something, to bob and weave, and was somewhat disappointed when all he saw was desert.
Follow Steve. Also, see if I look any different under the shroud.
Nope, still a skeleton.
2spooky4me
Follow the crowd. Look around for anything unusual.
There's a skeleton in a porcelain mask following around right behind you.
We are beyond unusual.
"On a mission again!"
Strike the earth sand with my pick and carve a third notch into the handle.
Follow Steve and breathe in the fresh mission air.
You smack the sand with your pick and then carve a notch in it.
((oh shit, I didn't roleplay entering the shuttle for reasons not related with the ER; what should I do, can we pretend Mir was in the shuttle all along, or entered just before the airlock doors closed?))
Walk out of the shuttle and follow Steve.
Also, put off the putty mask.
Steve, c-could you elaborate on the "keep your mouth shut" part? Is it 'nly appliable when we are near some locals?
Str 2; Dex 3; End 2; Cha 3; Int 7; Wil 3 // Spe 0; Int 0; Han 3 (+1); Con 1; Unc 0; Exo 0 (-1); Aux 1; Med 0
Inventory: 1 token; MkI suit; handlaser; handlaser battery; putty mask from Nyars
Appearance: 5'9", grey/green eyes, brown middle-long combed hair with white temples. Skinny, non-muscular body type; appears lower than he is because of bad posture. Currently is in a lab coat.
Fine. Mostly because that mask won't come off.
>Use common sense. Not like anyone here could really understand you regardless.Got it boss. I'll, uh, keep my hands to m'self fer now, too.
Follow Steve closely, keeping my arms at my side. While he can likely defend himself very well and doesn't actually -need- a body, might was well look like a surly genemodded bodyguard. well Intuit the feel of the town/village. Also, is this a warm desert or a cold one? Where's the sun in the sky? High and north, to the south and west?
It is hot. It is very hot. The sun is, thankfully, still somewhere down near the horizon, but it is already climbing into the upper 90's.
((Some of us can't holster our weapons.))
<squadchat>
Those who can't afford to hide their armaments, give it to me or any other person capable of concealment. Given how there's an impending lingual barrier between us and anyone else not HMRC, I'd seriously advise to watch your thoughts before you act on it.
Just admire the sand, or the architecture of the city. Practice self-restraint, or turn off the speakers of your MK suits.
Inspect my Protectorate Armor. How does it look like, may I know which parts of the body it protects the most (if it's not shaped armor)--and is there anything to interface with?
It's basically like milno's armor, but heavier. It's got plate armor over most of the torso and arms, as well as head and upper legs. There's a layer of cloth armor under that and in all the joints. Lets see if I can find an image that looks like what I have in mind.
The team, more a mob at this size, follows Steve across the dunes and into the city in the distance. The city is odd; it is at once anacronistic and yet perfectly suited for it's locale. The buildings, the sand colored bricks the team could see from a distance, were made of adobe, mud and straw bricks, baked hard in the sun. They were coated in some sort of similar material, to cover the rough inner construction, but some buildings had lost parts of this outer layer and the brickwork was visible through the hole. Atop these structures were television antennae and satellite dishes, and though they still saw women walking back to their homes, carrying jugs of water from a communal well, there were men selling data pads from wooden stands on the side of the road. Electrical wires ran overhead , not a single large cable but hundreds of them, strung loosely across taut metal wires strung between the buildings; it looked more like individuals ran their own electrical cords to some central outlet, rather then a concise and planned system. Animals, some form of goat or sheep descendant, heavily modified to be little more then a wandering fuzzball with a protruding udder, wander aimlessly through the dirt and raw stone streets while the smell of cooking meat and unknown spices drifts down from overhead windows. The group draws no small amount of attention as it walks into town, but Steve, who quickly bought a dishdasha and head covering on the way in, seems to placate them with careful gestures and words in an unknown language. Still, the populace gives the mob a wide berth, and one doesn't need to speak the language to understand the terrified tones and glances aimed at certain, less human members.
Eventually, they reach the large central building. It's several stories tall, taller than anything around it, and though it is made of the same materials as the other buildings-save for the bronze spires-it is much better maintained, and the paint and dyes which color its domes appear to have been recently restored. Steve talks to a man outside the place for a moment and then they are lead into what must be the throne room. The walls are lined with painted murals, though the murals show no humans, just landscapes, buildings and geometric designs. Set up along the length of the room at regular intervals, are what appear to be bronze cages. These cages are lined up against the walls, like a row of guardsmen on either side of the room. In the cages are small creatures, not quite birds but something similar. Mammalian, by the look of it; vaguely like bats, or flying squirrels. They chitter and chirp excitedly at the new visitors. There is a thin skylight in the ceiling, maybe two feet wide and running down most of the length of the room, illuminating space but also setting it in hard contrast: Everything within the light was blindingly bright, while the shadows grew infinitely darker for it.
Far at the end of the room, on a sandstone throne cloaked in shadow, was a man. It was hard to tell if he was the king, for he didn't wear a crown, though his clothing looked quite expensive. After a moment of observing the mob, he said something, a single hard syllable. Steve, already standing at the front of the group, responded with a few of his own. They talked, haltingly, for several minutes before Steve turned to speak to the rest of the group.
>It appears that we have been contracted out as executioners. The Eater has already found a host, and now we must kill it. The King spoke again, longer this time.
>He says that it has inhabited the body of one of his subjects. They have bound and confined the host here in the palace, but we can not simply kill it by normal means. We have to take it to...He speaks to the king a moment.
>A place which is the death of these creatures. Only there will you be able to kill it. The king speaks again and steve waits until he is finished to continue.
>He has given me a series of warnings, which I'll tell you in a moment. For now, the idea is that you will escort this host to wherever it is you are supposed to go. Then, you will kill it in the manner they have described to me, and I will describe to you. In addition to that, however, I would like you to document and find out as much about this thing as you can. We may be able to use it later. Any questions before we move on?
Author
Topic: Mission 18: The final sunset (Read 183012 times)