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[Quest] No Niceties in No-Man's Land
Topic Started: Oct 26 2006, 07:48 AM (1,897 Views)
TFE
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Bow Down When I Come To Your Town

The copter choked and sputtered as it slammed down into the African desert, plumes of smoke, dust and debris turning everything to black.
Finally it settled and all was grim, bitter silence.
[Just Blaze] Catching Up to God Quicker...(High Off This Liquor) :kirby:

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I: Assumptions Permit Imagination.
II: Knowledge Is Impossible.
III: Exploitation Is Benevolence.
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

His plane began to slowly descend then slam into the rough desert, just barely managing not to explode or simply fall apart. The wings and metal began to creak and shudder as it crashed and slid wildly along the sand, finally stopping just before it slammed into the bazaar. Its wings collapsed and pieces of it tumbled off into people.
Deleran had a raging headache, blood dripping from bruises all over his body, but seemed otherwise to be intact but shaken in the now upside down cockpit.
[RPGData:30|1|30|30|15|15|27|11|Fire Sword|Warrior Armor|Necromancer|0|None|None|0|0|0|0|None|1|None|The Klu Klux Klan]
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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Deleran let out a sigh as he tried to regenerate his wounds, fumbling and crawling around to try and get out of the plane.
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

He managed to crawl out of the glass of the shattered cockpit, slumping against the hot sand of the outside. His blood was already drying partly, though the pain was still hot and severe.
There was the sound of shouts approaching him.
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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Deleran struggled to crawl away from the plane, still trying to heal himself up as he gritted his teeth in pain.
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

He managed to get out more or less in one piece just as shadows of people jabbering in Arabic surrounded him.
One of them, a gruff man in a dusty turban grabbed Deleran roughly by his shoulders and yanked him to his feet. He spoke in broken, snarling English.
"WHO YOU BE?!"
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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Deleran struggled to string together as best an explanation as he thought they would unsertand.

"Sorry... I'm an Iscariot. I need to escaped a bad place."
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

The gruff man dropped him roughly on the desert sand and yelped in fear the moment the word "Iscariot" left Deleran's lips. The rest of the people gathered around from the bazaar did the same, screaming and yelping as they fled madly.
[RPGData:30|1|30|30|15|15|27|11|Fire Sword|Warrior Armor|Necromancer|0|None|None|0|0|0|0|None|1|None|The Klu Klux Klan]
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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[God my typing's been awful on this thread...]

Deleran struggled back to his feet, still trying to heal himself. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He needed a phone, a radio or a new vehicle...
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

There could very well be a radio functioning in the crashed plane's cockpit. There was also a motorbike stalled at the edge of the desert and bazaar. He'd have to think of something, because it seemed the fleeing people had made quite a riot of activity in the bazaar with their news.
[RPGData:30|1|30|30|15|15|27|11|Fire Sword|Warrior Armor|Necromancer|0|None|None|0|0|0|0|None|1|None|The Klu Klux Klan]
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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Whatever was happening here, Deleran didn't like it. He could worry about the long term later, he needed to get out of here. He went for the bike, and assuming it worked peeled a course the hell out of there on the same course he had been flying.
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

It sped him through the city, various people grunting and shouting as they leapt out of his precarious path.
After a while cruising through the city he found himself faced with a massive body of water, bordered with beaches and a large dock. God knows where he was now...
[RPGData:30|1|30|30|15|15|27|11|Fire Sword|Warrior Armor|Necromancer|0|None|None|0|0|0|0|None|1|None|The Klu Klux Klan]
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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It being all he could do, Deleran headed for the docks.
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

There were a number of small boats docked and a large crowd of people formed in a circle around something he couldn't see, shouting angrily.
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DarkAbyssKeeper
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Deleran made his way towards the circle, pushing himself up on the bike to get a clearer view of what they were shouting at.
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TFE Magnus
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Negro please.

There was a pale young boy covered in bruises, sobbing as the crowd harangued and kicked at him. He couldn't have been older than six.
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