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Post by Fleischmann on Dec 30, 2022 15:39:53 GMT
Surfin' for a Change
Along a dusty road in the middle of the Dunwikki jungle, a mobile anti-air crew saw something truly bizarre. A tall, blonde haired Sheenishman carrying a Hawaiian surf-board and wearing a sign asking for a ride. Pulling their truck over, the driver popped his head out the window and asked the man where he was going. Hitchhiker: ' The shore, or as close as you can take me. I'm looking to end it all there.' Driver: ' Right... You know you're in the middle of the island, right? You're walking deeper into the jungle too.' Hitchhiker: ' S'no skin off my nose. I'm in it for the journey.' The driver looked over his shoulder and to his compatriots in the back. They were dirty, tired, and not all there anymore, with at least one being fast asleep against the guns. Thinking it over, he decided that maybe they could use a holiday and that no one would notice if they popped off for a day trip. Hote: ' Pop whatever that thing is in the bed and hop in with me. My name's Hote, the two gentlemen in the rear are Ishikawa and Blomfeld.' Ken Westerfeld: ' Nice man. I'm Ken Westerfeld, just call me Ken. What are you guys doing out here?' The stranger went around and stored his board safely in the rear before then jumping in and riding shotgun. Hote took off as soon as the door closed. Hote: ' Ah... Not sure if you noticed, but there's a war on. We're with the army.' Gunner 1: ' Nah, he's full of it. We're big game hunter's, shooting wild Tholish snipes, you see? E'en got ourselves a modern hunting rifle here, see?' K.W.: ' Fair enough mate, I don't keep up that much with news. I thought the war with the Tholes ended.' Hote: ' Ended's a strong word... Evolved! That's what it did. We've got peace at home, but here we are in the tropics fighting them and malaria for a day's pay. The work's decent, but have you seen any women? Other than some Lengan's in tight little numbers, it's been only hairy arses and the odd visit to the regimental knocking shop for us.' So the conversation went, with them exchanging stories, horrific tales, and theories about what a Dunwikki girl looks like. They reached a Lengan town by the time night fell and opted to spend the night there rather than push on through the dark hours, especially with the headlamps making them a target. After a less than warm start, with both sides waiting for the other to shoot them, things started to progress once one of the soldiers stood up and shouted 'Got any food?' The locals, feeling a bit more safe, chose to see how things went and brought out some pots filled with beans and some bread. However, the two sides did not meld well at first. The new Lengans were critical of some of the things the Raikhmen did and seemed to specialise in passive-aggressive comments. The Raikhmen spent a lot of time mocking the windmills and various out-houses and wooden huts around them. However, after the first few drinks came out things started to thaw a little. The Raikhmen found out that the Lengans were growing small patches of spices and the natives found that the soldiers were carrying bottles of near pure distilled alcohol and some stuff from Sheen called Mocha coffee. Knowing what the coffee was and sensing an opportunity, the natives brought out a pot of some fruit juice concoction called 'peyoutl' and the soldiers added their hooch to it, though it took a bit of persuading to get the natives to go along before bowls started going around. Once that happened, all bets were off. Music started playing, dancing started, and the divestment of clothing followed. The shadows lengthened and sound distorted, before finally they found out why the Dunwikki called the Lengans demons. Blomfeld: ' Chief, Chief! That's a jaguar, that girl's got jaguar skin!' Hote: ' I don't care, even if her sister's a cougar too... I think I'm following them.' Ishikawa: ' Hey, Blom! Me and Ken are going to follow the Chief's example. The shadows are a bit crazy, why don't you join us? They keep kissing us and whispering things I don't understand, but they're friendlier than not.' Blomfeld: ' No, no! I'm not dying here, these witches aren't getting me... Leave me be, leave me to the guns, leave me alone-' Ishikawa: ' Ken, I don't think he's coming...' K.W.: ' Leave him man, let's go into the jungle.' The following morning, those who had gone for some privacy found their friend had tied himself to the barrels of the A.A. guns and retched over himself before passing out. After laughing a bit, they helped untie him and wake him up, before then carrying him to the nearest river and throwing him in. Breakfast consisted of heated left-over's from the night before, though the peyoutl was missing and likely for the best. A few of the girls from the previous night came over and covered the men in kisses, before finally the intrepid party decided to head off again, though they made sure to make a gift of their coffee and a pot. Tagging along with them was the girl that Westerfeld had hooked up with the previous night, after he had managed to communicate he was heading to the coast to her. |
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Post by Wilhelm Cransnikov on Dec 30, 2022 17:01:39 GMT
In the next stop the crew reached on their bender, they were met with a strange sight.
Stranger: Ma'am, Ma'am I am flattered by the offer but- No, no. I am not interested, ma'am please.
A massive red haired foreigner was in some sort of dispute with the elderly matron of the local pleasure house. It was quite the humorous sight, as despite his giant status the poor bastard could barely get a word in edgewise against the little hag running the establishment. As the crew entered the establishment, the giant turned to them in desperation and in hundisch asked, "Hey, you guy's aren't lengans, right? Can you help me out here? I just wanted a room but this women won't let leave until I received the full service, something about curses and hospitality. Could you see if you can take my spot?"
Hote: You want us to... fuck whores on your behalf?
Stranger: Well if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd hate to-
Blomfeld: No! no, don't worry about it. We're on a charitable mission here so we'd be happy to help do any nasty business you don't want to.
Stranger: Ah! That's a relief I was worrying I'd of had to shame myself and face momma's wrath.
After a rather pleasant night spent in the arms of jungle women, the band went to the bar to pick up boozes for the next leg of the trip. The giant they met the day before was sitting by the counter enjoying some refreshments while writing.
Blomfeld: Hey its our favorite jolly red giant! You got any more women you need us to sleep with?
Stranger: Oh! Hello, no I haven't had any more problems since we last talked. It's Cantutuachama by the way, of the clan Gunn.
Blomfeld: Cantuu-er Gunn, the hell you doing out here anyways? You stick out like a... well like a carrot.
Gunn: I'm working on my doctoral thesis. I hired guides but they got killed a while ago by Dunwikkis, so I've just been trying to salvage the situation and get what information I can.
Blomfeld: Ah... that sucks, you want a ride?
Gunn: If it won't be trouble.
Blomfeld: Ay chief, one more hitting the road with us.
Gunn: Oh, I also brought a few barrels of whiskey to use as gifts for local Legan powerbrokers, you th-
Blomfeld: It won't be a problem.
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Post by Dunwik on Jan 10, 2023 21:48:50 GMT
As Gunn and Blomfeld started to speak, one of the Lengan girls stepped off the back of the truck and approached them. She was typical of the Lengan race. A thin and tall woman with long, white hair despite her youth, and strange red eyes, dressed in a modest orange robe that covered almost all her body. The night before, she had introduced herself, drugged Ken and tied him to a tree, demanding to know what he saw - but taking things no further than that curious incident. She listened to the men speak, and then in somewhat awkward Hundisch spoke to Gunn, steepling her fingers as she considered her next option.
Sebakaia the Younger: Cantutuachama... What are your studies?
She hadn't spoken until this point, and had the night before only watched in total silence, keeping a great distance from the foreigners. This was new. The elderly woman arguing with Gunn looked at this woman, and then retreated swiftly.
Gunn: The Picts, Fomorians, Forestmen, and Lengan peoples have similar runes, rituals, and some of their mythology is almost the same. I'm studying this similarity.
Sebakaia the Younger paused at this and gazed off into the distance, collecting her thoughts before she pointed off to the truck.
StY: We drive northwest. The town of Iruklakash has someone you must speak to, Cantutuachama. She has seen the same.
Sebakaia went through her robe and handed off a small, dried mushroom to Gunn, smiling softly as she handed it over.
StY: When you see her, eat this, and then tell her what you see.
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Post by Wilhelm Cransnikov on Jan 21, 2023 2:02:50 GMT
Gunn was nervous, very much so. Up until now he'd only drank never done anything worse, and yet what other leads did he have? It was this terrible fear of displeasing his mother pitted against the gnawing curiosity of his work that distracted Gunn from the goings on of the others in his little crew. When they finally reached the town of Iruklakash, Gunn slipped away to seek out this supposed women who 'has seen the same'.
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Post by Dunwik on Jan 21, 2023 21:43:30 GMT
Gunn was nervous, very much so. Up until now he'd only drank never done anything worse, and yet what other leads did he have? It was this terrible fear of displeasing his mother pitted against the gnawing curiosity of his work that distracted Gunn from the goings on of the others in his little crew. When they finally reached the town of Iruklakash, Gunn slipped away to seek out this supposed women who 'has seen the same'. . Sebakaia lead him by the hand through the town, a narrow place carved into the side of a mountain. It was surprisingly cold in this place, with a constant frigid wind blowing down the mountainsides. Sebakaia didn't seem bothered much by the abrupt and uncomfortable change in temperature, instead leading Gunn through the winding streets without telling him where they were going or who he was going to meet. Leading him to a large, marble building covered in runes that seemed eerily familiar and festooned with icons of some unidentifiable and indescribable mass rising from the waters, she dragged him inside. Within the cold, curious building, surrounded by unpainted marble statues of ancient heroes and impossible creatures, a few guards went up to them, but Sebakaia spoke a torrent of words in Lengan and held aloft a small silver badge, and the men retreated just as swiftly as they arrived. There wasn't much to do but look at the odd statues and murals covering the walls, floors, ceiling, and the pillars that held the roof aloft, each pillar a beautifully carved depiction of a tower of creatures. Heading through to a back room, Sebakaiea dragged Gunn by the arm into a much warmer, but plainly furnished room. An elderly, blindfolded woman in a white robe with an unusual similarity to Sebakaia was sitting by a loom, weaving some sort of cloak or cape, while the last embers of a fire sputtered in a hearth nearby. A small bed was the only other piece of furniture in this bare place. Still, she turned suddenly and stood up from her chair, reaching for a cane and hobbling over to the group swiftly. "Ah! There you are, I've been expecting you." Sebakaia hid her smile behind a small paper fan. "Don't try hiding your smile from me, young one," the elderly woman said, wagging a long, wizened finger at Sebakaia, "and you?" She turned her head toward Gunn at that "you're a Thole, I can tell. From the way you walk, you're an academic. That plodding Thole gait's only a little changed by your need to rush about all over the place. What brings you here?" |
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Post by Fleischmann on Jan 22, 2023 13:46:03 GMT
While Sebakaia and Gunn were off on their own adventure, Hote, Ken, and Blomfeld had opted to strip off and bathe in a nearby river to cool down. They had been on the road for a few days now and their clothes needed washing, so Ishikawa was taking care of that and marginally keeping guard. As this was happening, a low rumbling sound was building in the distance, but was drowned out by the sound of grown men splashing each other with water.
Hote: 'I'll tell you what... I'm going to miss this weather. A half decent breeze and the warm sun and the place isn't nearly as terrible as it is the rest of the time.'
Rather than splash around, he had opted to stretch out over a rock and try to tan.
Ken Westerfeld: 'Stop being prissy! The place is a ball; the girls are hot to trot, the food's spicy, and there's no duties on beer. I'll tel-' *squirt* 'Ow, you bastard!'
Blomfeld: 'Didn't mean to get you in the eye!'
Seeing a dangerous glint, Blomfeld opted to run and splash away before he could be held under water by the much larger man.
K.W.: 'Get back here, rat!'
The rumbling had gotten much louder now and Ishikawa and Hote were both looking down the road. To their surprise, it looked to be one of those steam-powered amphibious assault craft that the army had gotten from Sheen, but this one was not in army colours. Pulling off to the side, a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat and wearing sun-glasses popped up out of the driver's hatch.
Shades: 'You, I need men!'
Sweating a bit and more than a little worried about a court martial, Hote stood up and reached for his officer's cap.
Hote: 'What for? We're currently on leave.'
Shades: 'Strike busting! I need strong men and you lot look the part, we're willing to pay five Schillinge a head if you do it quickly.'
Not seeing the harm in making a bit of money and not wanting to give the man reason to question their story, Hote started pulling on his wet clothes and shouting for his men to mount-up.
Following the troop transport in their truck, they quickly out of the forest and into a wide and big area which had been cleared of trees and had a wooden fortress on top of a hill. There were rather rudimentary siegeworks around the fort, as well as fighting positions, but oddest of all was the army of men dressed like it was the Middle Ages still. The troop transport came to a halt outside of a large tent and so too did the truck. Getting off and pulling their guns, the men followed the man in shades in.
Shades: 'Larry, Larry! I've got some soldiers for us.'
Larry: 'They'll do. Well, you boys speak Sheenish, right?'
Hote: 'A little... What's the problem?'
Larry: 'Jean didn't tell you? We rounded up some Dunwikki druggies and promised them five Stukk an hour for a shoot and now they're demanding more because we've got Lengan extras too! They're threatening to hold the production hostage and turn it into a runaway.'
Jean: 'Your job is to get those degenerates to fight the other guys and to get them to do it at the price we agreed or lower.'
Hote: 'Right... Seems easy enough. Be back when its done.'
Leaving the tent with his men, Hote found some horses and had them mount up. He had seen the dragoons go into protestors before, so he knew how terrifying a man on a horse waving his gun around could be.
Larry: 'Are you sure these men know what they're doing? Where did you find them anyway?'
Jean: 'Absolutely! They're soldiers, they can do it and are quite professional. Their colonel vouched for them and everything.'
Coming up to the ringleader of the strikers, Hote stood up in his stirrups and began speaking.
Hote: 'You lead these vagrants, aye?'
Dunwikki: 'Aye, what's it to you?'
Hote: 'You agreed to a contract, and I do not know about here, but where we're from contracts are worth their weight in gold! That kind man up on the hill promised you decent pay for honest work, now you ingrates are demanding more. Get back to work or we'll see to your replacement!'
The Dunwikki man began repeating what was being said back to his fellows, translating from Sheenish to their own tongue. Turning to Hote, he began to walk forward.
Dunwikki: 'You're here to end our strike... And I swore I'd break the knees of whoever they sent to bust us.'
Lunging forward, the man grabbed the horse and began trying to pull it down. Startled by this, Hote drew his pistol and brought it down hard on the man's head, producing a loud cracking sound and letting off a shot into the crowd. The strikers seemed startled by the sudden violence and Hote quickly got his horse back under control, though is own men had all readied weapons.
Hote: 'Get back to work, you fucking whoresons!'
A few of strikers began to advance, seemingly buoyed, but were quickly shot for their bravery.
Hote: 'Back to work!'
The crowd began to run for it, but the soldiers gave chase. Though a bit clumsily, they herded them like cattle and let off shots to keep them running. After half an hour of running around, the strikers had given up and were now agreeing to a new salary of two Stukk a man with the producers.
Jean: 'What did I say? Professionals!'
Larry: 'You did well with them, I'm impressed. Here's your pay and if you want to, you can stay on for the rest of the shoot.'
Turning back to his men to confer, he was given the assent dumbly nodded his approval to their new employer.
For the next three hours, watched and helped shoot the siege, watching as real cannon balls, muskets, and swords were used to create a realistic spectacle of war. They had been slightly off in their impression of the time period, as apparently this flick was meant to be set in the 1650's, during some war between the Lengans and Dunwik.
By the end of the shoot, they had each earned an additional fifty Schillinge from helping keep the extras in line with threat of violence, helping coordinate the action, and even appearing in non-speaking roles in scenes as Dunwikki heroes.
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