The Hunting Grounds III - Second Most Dangerous Game

[Zefir]

[Creepy Fish Is Creepy - Swamps]

The lungfish isn't that fast in this environment either, but it is probably just a teensy weensy bit faster than Zefir. It may be gaining on him - it could pose a serious threat to him in a post or two. There's a grove of trees to Zefir's left and a sheer cliff face in front of him. There is a small crack in the cliff face that he might be able to squeeze into, but he could also take his chances in the forest where the trees might slow the lungfish monster's progress.

[Creepy Fish Is Creepy - Swamps]

The cliff is an idea, but Zefir might need a rope or anything. The plan would be to lure the best to the edge then blow it up by the crack and use a rope to swing away. Only two things are missing. How to get the fish to the clisff and how does he escape? First one might be solved simply, but still point two takes place. So he decides to go for the forest is the best solution for now so he will try to make his wway there. Also he doesn't plan on climbing on the first tree he reach, since the massive fish likly bite through the tree.

[Shadowcaller]

Huntside Mess Hall

Name's Xun. Former familiar, now a bored mercenary. With the proper licenses, of course. Been here for a bit, so what I was in my home land is uninteresting at this point.

Huntside Mess Hall

"Ah, you're one of those MERC licensed people, madame. Personally I'm more of a freelancer myself, I don't even charge for my services. True heroes never does." She replies with a wide smile. "Don't think I'd do well in an organization either, I'm more of a lone wolf."

[WarKitty]

Huntside Mess Hall

Never pretended to be a hero. Mind I'm not going to hurt anyone that doesn't deserve it, but I got dragged around on plenty of "save-the-world" quests as a familiar and I've had my fill of them. Xun pauses. Still, I mean for any games to be non-lethal. Subdue, not kill or seriously injure. I've obtained some magic healing charms as insurance, even.

[OrchestraHc]

Huntside Mess Hall

Kayden nods, taking the leather strips and placing them in a small jar that should hopefully not contain any other scents to interfered with theirs.
"Thanks, these should do fine. Did you have something in mind for pay? If ya don't we can negotiate that when I find your 'bold." he offers.

[Huntside Mess Hall]

"Can pay RedMage manygold." she reiterates. Will RedMage take thishundred manygold to get Brother back?" She holds up a paw with three claws extended.

[ThirdEmperor]

[The Hive]

Wenomir carves into the queen's flank before she can even right herself, splitting open her black armor and spilling yellow blood across the forest floor. She's still dragging at the weight of the tree pinning down her leg as the smaller foe dances around her, but as he comes in for the second strike, she lashes out with tail again - even with the stinger broken and useless, strength and size alone let her smash through the trees to swipe at him. Her claw is only a split second behind, as she rears up and turns to face him.


[Huntside]

There's a new posting on the town's bounty board, put up this morning by representatives for an alchemy company that gathers ingredients from the surrounding wilderness.

WANTED - REWARD
Unknown creature, responsible for the deaths of a gathering expedition to the swamps.

Recovered bodies and animal carcasses show bite wounds and signs of fungal infection. Creature is suspected to be roughly the size of a bull rhinoceros or larger, active during the nights. Identifying characteristics include a lingering putrid smell.

Compensation is available in the form of scrip or valuable alchemical solutions, valued at four hundred Troy Ounces of gold per person.

Wow! That's roughly two thousand Spanish doubloons!


[The Hidden Grove]

The hollow is full of a dozen tiny streams and pools over which waterbugs and buzzing gnats roam, trickling down between the interwoven roots of the gnarled oaks that stretch overhead. They seem oddly unaware of Brandon as he creeps through and searches the clearing, skittering over his fingertips as he lies in wait and landing on his back as if he was another standing stone, not bothering to buzz away even when he moves. Even the mosquitoes don't seem to care, roaming over him without trying to drink his blood. There's something very tranquil about the place - about the lazy movement of the water and the steady fall of droplets from the boughs above.

And then he whistles.

All at once the flies and mosquitoes and waterbugs go flying away, fleeing from him in a great cloud of motion. The heartbeat slows and falls to a stop, the luminescence settling to a dull, unwavering paleness like a fluorescent light. The movement of the trees in the wind overhead fills the grove with a rustling, swaying motion. Another light passes through the darken gaps in the treeline, pale and blue, and quickly begins to grow brighter as it draws near.

From outside, there's a gunshot and a shrill howl of inhuman pain.

[Deathkeeper]

Huntside Mess Hall

Kayden narrows his eyes. He's not about to be taken in by a kobold. Even in times of crisis they can be crafty.
"Three-fifty and you have a deal." he says.
Sheesh, Kayden. That's not that much of a haggler's jump, truth be told.

[FireFox]

[The Hidden Grove]

Brandon swears silently, but the damage is done. He takes another look around the confined grove and makes the tactical decision to hammerspace his rifle in exchange for a Thompson M1A1 submachine gun, which he readies to fire. Sebastian! What's going on out there?

[Aric Kale]

Huntside

WANTED - REWARD
Unknown creature, responsible for the deaths of a gathering expedition to the swamps.

Recovered bodies and animal carcasses show bite wounds and signs of fungal infection. Creature is suspected to be roughly the size of a bull rhinoceros or larger, active during the nights. Identifying characteristics include a lingering putrid smell.

Compensation is available in the form of scrip or valuable alchemical solutions, valued at four hundred Troy Ounces of gold per person.

A new day in Huntside, and the Mourning Hoplite is looking for a job. Looks like he found one right up his alley...

He and Hawthorn go off and look for whoever posted the ad.

[ThirdEmperor]

[The Hidden Grove]

No answer is forthcoming from beyond the trees. There's another crack of gunfire - maybe Sebastion's too far away to hear, or maybe in too much trouble to respond - followed by a sharp yelp. Over the trees a hunting call carries, and is echoed back from all directions in barking cries.

But there's another problem now. The ghostly luminescence pours through the undergrowth as a swirling mist of lights and draws itself up, flowing into a staunch, ursine shape. Most of the beast is only a ragged, shifting buzz of black and blue-white like television static, but there's an unpleasant look of solidity to the teeth it bares, a nasty sharpness to the resolution. The spirit growls deep, and rears itself up on it's hindlegs to come lumbering at Brandon.

[Morty]

[The Hive]

Wenomir ducks in a split-second, making the tail swish above his head, and saving his bones from being broken several times over. However, when he straightens himself again, he's not quite able to avoid the claw as it also comes at him. He back-steps and twists his body away from the appendage, but it still catches him on the chest. The adamantine mail absorbs most of the impact, but he still staggers backwards.

[FireFox]

[The Hidden Grove]

30 rounds of .45 ACP are a great litmus test for whether something is invulnerable or not. It is in this scientific interest, and not out of any panicked fear, that Brandon empties the magazine on his submachine gun at the spirit bear. If that doesn't have any effect, he reasons to himself in a part of his brain that's not screaming in terror, he can just run for it. I don't think he realizes how fast even flesh and bone bears are.

[ThirdEmperor]

[Huntside - Mess Hall]

Sebastian makes a dubious face at the huge pot boiling on the fire, the bubbling stew of fish and bones and nasty little tendrilly things trying to crawl back over the edge. It somehow looks even less appetizing when the chef slops a generous portion into the bowl, something that could be an onion or an eye bobbing up to the top to stare accusingly. On the other hand, food. The smell of anything even plausibly edible makes his stomach growl loudly enough to overrule his eyes and common sense. Taking a slice of dark rye bread from the tray alongside the counter, Sebastian slides into a seat on the end of one of the huge dining tables and glances around the ongoing chaos of dinner time. It's certainly... different.

Very, very different.


[The Hive]

Above him, the Queen screeches in triumph. She throws her monstrous bulk towards him, simply aiming to crush and overbear and grind the tiny little man down to dust. Those terrible claws lash out again, if or perhaps when Wenomir dances out of her grip again, and there's ever less space to hide from the advancing Queen. What was a forest is nothing but a graveyard of stumps sticking broken out of the earth, and trees lying uprooted on a bed of shattered branches and leaves.


[The Hidden Grove

All those little bullets rip, and tear, and shred. The loping charge becomes a stumble, the creature falling over itself and landing on all fours, trying to cringe away from the little leaden bees stinging at it's ghostly flesh. The thing curls in on itself and becomes a shapeless blob of static splattered over the ground, glowing vapor dripping from the countless wounds and pooling as mist on the forest floor. It's smaller now, much smaller, even as it's wounds fill up again with buzzing lights.

And then it begins to change shape again. Thinner now and not as tall, the shape of the static more defined and clear, the ghost rises up and stretches itself out into human form. Brandon's form. Only the hands are wrong - shapeless things with no fingers, gun barrels extending out of the flesh. There's a sharp electronic crackle as it's mouth opens and shuts wordlessly.

[Deathkeeper]

Huntside Mess Hall

If Sebastian looks to his right he might realize that the person he sat next to is a large, seven-foot tall bipedal dragon. His scales are a deep red and he bears two slightly curled horns on the back of his head. He's somewhat young if you know your dragons. He has a very slim (for his race at least), muscular build. He's also quite naked at the moment, or at least he seems to be.
He looks down at the lad, tail tapping against the floor.

"Oh, gods, you got the stew? You poor, brave fool. Even Duzur has trouble justifying allowing that Ogier to practice making it, and he's a pig." says the dragon conversationally.

[ThirdEmperor]

[Huntside - Mess Hall]

"Oh. Suppose I'm not in for a pleasant surprise, then?" Sebastian asks, prodding at the muck with his bread and watching something wriggle beneath the surface. He's not sure he wants to imagine what kind of fish you haul up in the Hunting Grounds. "It may have been too much to hope for appearances to be decieving."
He glances up at his dining companion, taking in the scales and the horns and, well, the nudity . He tries not to look too much. People always seem to get offended when he's surprised by them being naked dragon people. "You live here?"

[Deathkeeper]

Huntside Mess Hall

The dragon doesn't notice the staring, or at least doesn't react to it.
"It's a little better than it looks, so if you thought it was inedible you'll be surprised. But yeah, go for Duzur or the Moogle's counters next time.
Yeah, I live here. New, I'm guessing? Name's Roran. Call me Rory if that suits you."
Says the dragon pleasantly, extending a clawed hand to the human.

[Morty]

[The Hive]

Wenomir puts both his feet on the ground firmly, raising his sword above his head. What happens next is a blur of motion, interrupted by flashes of tremendous force.

The warrior leaps, soaring through the air almost faster than eye can follow, his movement landing him first onto one of the claws, slicing into it with meteoric force, and then, in a space between two blinks, the built-up momentum carries him upwards and forwards, past the acid-secreting glands, onto the queen's back, where the sword pierces into it with tremendous impact, only to be suddenly yanked out, at which point the swordsman pirouettes to his right, aiming a lightning-fast cut at one of the legs, then springing back to do the same to one of the legs on the other side.

[OrchestraHc]

Huntside Mess Hall

Kayden narrows his eyes. He's not about to be taken in by a kobold. Even in times of crisis they can be crafty.
"Three-fifty and you have a deal." he says.
Sheesh, Kayden. That's not that much of a haggler's jump, truth be told.

Huntside Mess Hall

"Yesyess. Finefine," she says not the least bit interested in haggling down. "Never paid for FindSave before. Don't care about manygold."

[ThirdEmperor]

[The Hive]

Armor and flesh break beneath the blade, and the poor Queen has scarcely time to recover her balance as the sharp little pest dances up her arm and tears it open. More oozing yellow adorns the warrior as his strikes bring it rushing up, the smell chemical and foul, and he's gone again as she strikes her claw against the ground to try and shake him free. His sword strikes into her back, but now the Queen snaps her wings open and throws the blade back even as it cripples her from flight, and rather than dart away to take her legs as well Wenomir is likely to be hurled to the ground before her.

[Huntside - Mess Hall]

"It's certainly trying it's best to convince me not to eat." Sebastian says, and the stew burbles in agreement until he gives it another stab.
He accepts the hand, although somewhat warily for the claws. He's got a good handshake, the kind you'd trust - if you were inclined to trust people based on a handshake. Can't imagine people on the edge of the wilderness place any great value on manners. "Sebastian, and yes. A homicidal maniac advised me to visit and for some reason I thought that was advice worth following out to the middle of nowhere. Ah, no offense."

[Shadowcaller]

Huntside Mess Hall

Never pretended to be a hero. Mind I'm not going to hurt anyone that doesn't deserve it, but I got dragged around on plenty of "save-the-world" quests as a familiar and I've had my fill of them. Xun pauses. Still, I mean for any games to be non-lethal. Subdue, not kill or seriously injure. I've obtained some magic healing charms as insurance, even.

Huntside Mess Hall

"Playing a hunting game against a feline. Sounds like a testimony of human hubris to me. Familiar or no familiar." Vallery comments with a smile. "But what if instead of subdue we try to take a strap of clothing we tie around our wrists or necks. What about that?"

[WarKitty]

Huntside Mess Hall

That would be acceptable, so long as they are small. Perhaps you could tie it to the side of my collar? That would be a close enough place to a humanoid wrist. Xun pauses. Still, it might be best if we wear the charms I have. Just in case, they will heal anyone too close to death.

[Morty]

[The Hive]

Wenomir is indeed thrown, but with an acrobatic mid-air twist he manages to turn his landing into a graceful one, rather than being smacked into the ground. He raises his sword high and begins circling around the monster once again.

[Deathkeeper]

Mess Hall- Kayden

Kayden nods. "Well then, I suppose we've got a deal."
The bangaa will reach to shake the kobold's claw, and then turn to go if that goes well.

Mess Hall- Sebastian and Rory

Oh good, the human didn't give any funny looks at his name.
"Well, thanks for coming out to the middle of nowhere, anyway. See that line over there?" he points. "That's head chef Duzur's counter. He made corn bread and stir-fry tonight; you'll have much better luck with him. And I think one of the moogles is doing something with rice?Try one of those."

[FireFox]

[The Hidden Grove

All those little bullets rip, and tear, and shred. The loping charge becomes a stumble, the creature falling over itself and landing on all fours, trying to cringe away from the little leaden bees stinging at it's ghostly flesh. The thing curls in on itself and becomes a shapeless blob of static splattered over the ground, glowing vapor dripping from the countless wounds and pooling as mist on the forest floor. It's smaller now, much smaller, even as it's wounds fill up again with buzzing lights.

And then it begins to change shape again. Thinner now and not as tall, the shape of the static more defined and clear, the ghost rises up and stretches itself out into human form. Brandon's form. Only the hands are wrong - shapeless things with no fingers, gun barrels extending out of the flesh. There's a sharp electronic crackle as it's mouth opens and shuts wordlessly.

Brandon notes the very promising effect his bullets have. He also notes, to his vague surprise, that his hands are automatically detaching the empty magazine, flipping it over, and inserting the full one duct taped jungle style to the first. He is also reflexively moving, all but sprinting to the side as he reloads. If that freaky thing is about to shoot back, he's not going to make it easy. He was trained that way, he dimly recollects. And he fought that way too, or didn't he? He raises the submachine gun, but for a moment it's not a Thompson. It's a Borz in 9x18mm Makarov, all stamped steel and rough craftsmanship. The spirit in his image, suddenly, is a man in a Russian officer's uniform. Brandon sees both things at once, reality and memory, and he can't tell them apart. He points at the center of mass and holds the trigger down.

[ThirdEmperor]

[Mess Hall]

Sebastian is thankfully foreign to the literature required for mocking Roran's name.
but i'm not. mock. mock.
"Sound advice. Can I ask, ah, what a moogle is?" Sebastian lowers his voice a little, leaning in. "I take it you mean the small, fuzzy fellow with the little wing and the puff on his head and all, but.." How does something like that happen? Is it he an imp of some sort?

Dragons and dragon people at least make some amount of sense. They have a whole mythology to excuse how really odd they are. A moogle is something completely different.


[The Hidden Grove]

The mirror creature, or commandant, or whatever Brandon sees, it returns fire of course - with beams of crackling blue-white energy lancing out from it's malformed hands. They blister the earth and turn the pools to hissing steam, make the bark curl back like burning paper when they strike the trees, and little sparks burst up and gutter away in the charred craters, but it's too quick for a real blaze to start. So at least being hit would be a quick death.
But, the spirit abandons it's attacks and even it's form as Brandon manages to reload and fires another salvo. It's body bends and stretches and breaks into a dozen diverging lines, spreading up and out in a lattice of crackling energy. In moments it's spun itself too thin and too far spread for the most of wild spray of lead to do anything but splinter the treeline behind the creature, and the few bullets that do break through it's spiderwebbed form can only claim a little of the spectral's mass.

So it learns. There's that.

[Deathkeeper]

Huntside Mess Hall- Sebastian and Rory

Was that an Eragon joke? Because I was referring to the pun.

This moogle in particular also has bunny ears, because he's Ivalician.
"Yeah, that's him. They're kinda cute, but trust me, the Kupo's get aggravating after a while. Our esteemed fuzzy leader is one of them, so don't be rude if you see one with a gun. " says the dragon pleasantly.

[ThirdEmperor]

[Mess Hall]

"I'll take your word not to try this muck then. One moment." The bowl of stew-ish muck is pushed away, and Sebastian rises from his seat to join the line for Duzur's cooking.
He's back in a few minutes of course, and looking far happier with the thoroughly inanimate stir fry on his plate as he sets himself back down and picks up his fork. "How is this place run, anyway? The money's got to come from somewhere. You've got a hospice and a dining hall and neither of them charge a cent."

[The Hive]

The beast is struggling to turn with him, the dead weight of the tree tugging at it's leg. The Queen is such a thoroughly strange creature it's hard to tell how wounded she really is, how much the blood spilling down her armor has cost - but there's no denying she's slowed. The stinger of her tail is gone, broken free and sent tumbling over the broken trees in one of her headlong rushes. Her right pincer moves sluggishly, not quite able to close.
The Queen's wings beat, kicking up a storm full of pine needles as she faces him down. With a lung forward she snaps her remaining claw at the warrior, and almost immediately scuttles back again, testing his defenses.

[FireFox]

[The Hidden Grove]

Brandon takes the weight of the Thompson into his left hand, reaching his right under his coat for a grenade to throw at the thing. But he doesn't have any grenades today. This is 2014, not 1994. He blinks and clears away the webs of memory. They aren't helping. Okay, come and get me. The empty submachine gun gets thrown into a place between dimensions before he brings the Mini-14 back out.

[Morty]

[The Hive]

Wenomir plays defensively for now, a bit winded from his earlier acrobatics. He dances away just outside the claw's reach, aiming an overhead diagonal chop at it as he twirls back.

[OrchestraHc]

Mess Hall- Kayden

Kayden nods. "Well then, I suppose we've got a deal."
The bangaa will reach to shake the kobold's claw, and then turn to go if that goes well.

Mess Hall- Sebastian and Rory

Oh good, the human didn't give any funny looks at his name.
"Well, thanks for coming out to the middle of nowhere, anyway. See that line over there?" he points. "That's head chef Duzur's counter. He made corn bread and stir-fry tonight; you'll have much better luck with him. And I think one of the moogles is doing something with rice?Try one of those."

Huntside Mess Hall

"Greatthanks, RedMage," she says, returning the shake. "Stay alive, Hunterlands gives few secondchance."

[Deathkeeper]

Huntside Mess Hall

When Sebastian gets to the front of the line, Duzur looks at the (skinny) lad with a look of absolute horror, and places a second piece of cornbread on his tray. And that is all.
Once he's back, "We make our money off of trade and the business of hunting. The healers and food is free because normally it's a safe assumption that anyone here is or is going to be giving us money for a hunt or a deal at some point. And there is a tip bucket for the cooks, and the Circle takes donations too."
And there is such a bucket, on the other side of the room.