forum Dystopian Fantasy RP aw yeah (Private)

Started May 02, 2018 by @Young-Dusty-the-Monarch-of-Dusteria group

tune

He laughed. "Okay, you get one more guess, and I'll give you a really big hint. Look up at the sky."

She looked up, “How does that help?! There’s just sky, clouds and the sun and the sun isn’t brown, nor is the clouds or the sky!” She put her arms up to the sky in desperation.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. "I guess it's pretty hard to see 'cause of the sun. It's that hawk way up there!" He pointed.
Mike casually looked up, then frowned and looked again. "Uh, Bernon? That's not a hawk."
"What?" Bernon peered upwards. "Yes it is!"
MIke stopped walking. "Do you even have any depth perception? That thing's not small, it's really high up. Your 'hawk' is a Nayla, a juvenile by the look of it, and it's hunting for something just our size to eat!"

“There’s no place to hide out here…” Tanrial looked around to find some over but found nothing, within easy reach, accept a small tree but the Nayla would have spotted them by the time they got there.

Mike dropped to the ground and pulled out his knife. "Tanrial, your sword, now. The grass around here holds the dirt together. If you don't break the roots, you can pull up carpets of grass and hide under them. Cut a square big enough to cover your back and wear it. From above, we'll look like part of the prairie."

She nodded and did what Mike said, cutting a carpet of grass big enough to cover her back, and watched as Bernon and Mike did the same. The Nayla was drawing closer, “Hurry.” She hissed.

Mike finished and went to help Bernon. They pulled up the grass and ducked underneath just in time. They could see the Nayla's shadow glide past, and heard the beat of its wings as it swooped lower. But they were not attacked. The shadow drifted away once more.
"Don't show yourselves yet," Mike whispered. "Give it another few minutes to go away, then slowly head for the tree. Stay low and hit the dirt if it comes close again."

Tanrial nodded, staying still for a few minutes until they were in near silence. She gently removed the dirt and walked carefully and quietly to the ever nearing tree line.

The others soon joined her, walking slowly. The woods were still pretty far away when Mike peered up at the clouds behind them and cursed. "It saw us. Screw it, just run. Tanrial, get out your bow and fire a warning shot it it gets too close, but don't slow down. Go go go!"

They ran, as fast as they could to the tree line. Tanrial had a arrow knocked in her bow in an instant, ready to shot if need be. she could hear it’s ear wrenching screaming drawing closer, faster then they were drawing closer to the trees.

(Ooh, I have an idea XD)
"Faster," Mike said, an edge of tension to his voice. The Nayla's shadow was right on top of them, and it gave a loud hiss, about to snatch one of them with its claws.
All at once, there was a colossal explosion from behind the trees. Something struck the Nayla's chest, and it screamed, careening to earth only a few feet from its would-be prey. It was dead before it stopped sliding.
Mike stumbled to a halt, staring at it. "Oh great," he said. "I know who that was. Guys, don't go in the trees yet!"

“What it the name of sanity?!” Tanrial said, “Mike, who the hell was that?!” She had her bow pointed at the tree line.

From the shadows of the forest came a series of whoops and hollers. Then a group of roughly twenty men came into view. They were huge and brawny, wearing strange clothes with lots of pockets. Their bare arms and necks were covered in tattoos, and they carried those weapons that Mike had warned them about–guns. They seemed in very good spirits, laughing and congratulating each other for bringing down such large prey.
Mike stared at them with narrowed eyes. "It's the Gator Boys," he muttered. "Southern mercenaries with monster blood in their veins. They're basically friendly, but we'll have to be very careful. They love a good fight."

“Great.” She lowered her bow slightly but kept the arrow knocked against it, just in case.

One of the men stepped forward. He was the biggest, with red-blond hair and tattoos that looked like rows of teeth encircling his arms. He lifted his hand in greeting. "Whaddup, strangers," he boomed, his voice heavily accented. "Looks lak yew've barly missed bein' that there bad boy's lil' snack! Lucky fer yew we was gonna test out our new pea-shooter on th' next big flah'in skeeter we saw. Whar ye from, folks?"

“Nowhere you’d know of…” Tanrial murmured, bow still in hand. She had a funny feeling about these guys and wasn’t going to take any chances.

"Is this the part where I use my diplomacy skills to keep us alive?" Bernon whispered.
"Yep," Mike responded. "Don't tell them about the machine or Ryker."
Bernon took a breath and stepped forward. "Uh, hello. Thanks for saving us, sir. I'm Bernon, and these are my friends, Mike and Tanrial. We're from further back West and we're headed to the Great Lakes. It's nice to meet you, Mister…..?"
The leader grinned. "Call me Johnny Stonehand. We're the Gator Boys, an' we're from the South." He took off his weathered baseball cap and nodded politely at Tanrial, and the other mercenaries followed suit. "Y'all look a bit dusty 'n tahrd. C'mon back to our fort for some supper."

“Well, we’re kind of on a tight schedule, we’re umm… meeting with some old friends and they don’t like us being late. But Thankyou for the offer, Mister Stonehand.” She lowered the bow fully and placed the arrow away.

Johnny cheerfully raised his hands to stop them. "Aw, but we was jus' waitin' fer some guests to come alawng, weren't we?" The other chorused their agreement. "We're havin' a big party down by th' crick, with food an' music and all else! Y' really gotta come." He winked. "Besides, we woudn't want y'all to mebbe sneak 'round the toll booth by the Big Sippi, would we? We'll jus' show ye thar in the mornin'."
"The 'Big Sippi'?" Bernon wondered.
"Mississippi River," Mike muttered. "Gateway to the Eastern Region of the country. Can't get across without paying something these days." He sighed, although it sounded more like a growl. "Just go along with him, it's easier than starting a fight."

Tanrial nearly gaged at the wink but glanced sideways for a moment at Mike and Bernon before speaking, “Alright. We’ll come…” she said, sighing a little.

Half the mercenaries stayed in the field to deal with the dead Nayla, while the rest, led by Johnny, led them through the trees and over to a large collection of tents and campfires near a muddy stream. The smell of cooking food was very strong here, as well as the less pleasant smell of gunpowder. A spot near the camp had been cleared of brush, and in it sat a huge machine resembling a cannon, made of scraps of wood and metal and painted to look like a snarling dog. Johnny proudly pointed it out and called it the "Skeeter Eater". It was the machine they'd shot down the Nayla with, and its barrel was still smoking.
They sat their guests down around the main campfire and started handing out the food–roasted meat, apples, rye bread, and coffee. Some of the men had more alcoholic drinks, but they didn't seem to keen on sharing.
Johnny sat across the fire from Tanrial and the others with a sigh. "So. Ye traveled far?"

“A fair distance yes. What about you? Do you stay here or move from place to place?” She asked taking a bite of an apple given to her and leaning forward on her knees so she could better see Johnny.

"Wal we been here 'n this area fer quat a whal. A bunch of fellers near here want us to protect their farms from bandits. But yeah, we always gotta travel lookin' fer work. Ev'ry half-year we head back home 'n spend time with the women folk. It's a lonely an dangerous life, but we love it."

“So, there’s no women here? At all?” She asked, frowning a little.

"Nope. Well, thar's one." Johnny jerked his thumb at the stream. "She's asleep rite now, but she'll wake up fer the music after supper. A real nice lady, she is. You'll love 'er." He took a swig of coffee. "Bah th' way, any of yew play an instrument? Or sing? Wouldn't want to leave y' out."

Tanrial shook her head, “No, I don’t anymore.”

"Too bad. Oh well." Johnny went and got a fiddle and started to tune it. Someone else had a banjo, and another pulled out a harmonica. The rest of the men gathered around, and started to nod their heads as the song began. The banjo player sang, and although his accent was even stronger than Johnny's, he had a nice voice and the others clapped along happily. Johnny was very good with the fiddle seemed to be hugely enjoying himself. Bernon smiled and clapped with the rest, while Mike ate his meal and kept an eye on the woods.

Tanrial smiled and got up to dance with a few of the other guys that were dancing, they were spinning her around the fire and soon she became a little dizzy but she kept going, laughing with them and enjoying herself.