The Greatest Adventure (Open! All Tech! Read First Post!)

[Crimetopolis]

The outside dog rested in its pen. It's house was a DOGLOO, igloo that cooled with the heat and and warmed with the winter. Charlie was a miniature German Shepherd mix, about 23 pounds, She got a boy's name because as rescued as a puppy, but she was so malnourished only the vet could tell if she were a girl, too. But medicine, food, and kindness had made Charlie, a happy dog. Bubba Carlton was a good pet dad. He even had drinking steps installed she couldn't knock her water over, too.

Hot already. 10:50 a.m. Bubba put the push mover in the shed. He wore a desert digiflage boonie hat on his shaved head. Visor moisture wicking orange tinted goggles shielded his blue eyes. Racially white. White moisture wicking t-shirt and propper knee length shorts. Moisture wicking Propper desert boots were on his feet. An XD 10MM semiautomatic was belted around his ample waist. Clean shaven.

His trailer had an above ground tornado cellar outback. In Kronstadt, the tornado is the biggest natural disasters, The 1980s rock music radio station said there was a chance of violent storms after 1 p.m. Since the had the best weather report, but that's what he went by, too.

He went inside the trailer and turned the radio. On the horizon outside, dark clouds appeared . Crayon, his black cat came inside and went inside his carrier. too. Bad sign, "She's got the looks that kill'. blared on Rock 93. Suddenly, Tank, his little chihuahua began whimpering. Bubba hugged him. "It's okay, buddy'. "Something is not right.". He decided to bring Charlie inside. Besides she needed the AC, too. The ground rumbled like thunder as Charlie began barking. "Yotes and a storm inbound." He muttered as he picked up the Stag Arms 'Minimalist' AR-15 carbine and along with a satchel of mag, too.

Tank hid in his carrier. As Bubba opened the door. A black dragon folded its wings and began stalking towards the dog pen. Bubba flung the AR-15 to his shoulder and began spraying it with soft nosed ammo!
TAGS ANYBODY:

[Caer Lleon]

Kragholm Free States

Angelina, meanwhile, had never had much predatory cunning. The Golden Fleece demanded of its servants that they fight like the heroes of yore, toe to talon with the greatest monsters that a cruel creation could devise. And here, she saw her chance. She leapt upon the beast's side, stabbing it repeatedly with her short blade, even as it bucked and fought beneath her. She held on with one strong hand, her fingers dug into its white fur, refusing to let go and stop her murderous frenzy.

With one final stab she managed to hit something vital, and the creature roared in fury and anger, finally throwing the squire off its back, her sword still buried in its flesh where she had left it. Angelina landed on the ground like a bag of wet sand, a grunt leaving her as she managed to roll back onto her stomach, preparing to leap up. It was all dependent on where the beast would go from here in its death throes.

Pan-Asiatic States

"Missed the bastards."

"Indeed, sir."

The truck turned into the village's main square with a loud roar. On board were two strangely mismatched figures. A tall, distinguished man dressed in what could only be described as 'tropical formal'; tan suit, long tie, and wide-brimmed hat. His companion was dressed in the clothes of an earlier day: Long, flowing golden robes, belted at the waist with a band of fabric, his hair in a topknot, the only concession to the 21st century being a backpack that hung loosely over one shoulder.

The truck stopped, and its crew disembarked. The shorter, more archaic, figure ran around the ruins, calling out challenges to the jungle. His companion, though, slowly circled the square, studying every sign and print he could find, before eventually nodding and standing up. "Sir! I think you should see this!"

The squire, Chou Banbang, stopped his shouting and went to the servant, Sriwidadi. "What, what, what is it?" In a nutshell, this was the labour division of the DaoyuZhongguo. Chou Banbang could trace his ancestry back to the halls of the Tang Dynasty, which had first begun colonization of the southern islands. Sriwidadi, meanwhile, could trace his ancestry back no more than three generations, at a stretch.

The servant bowed to his master. "There are tracks leading in two directions. A large force heading into the hills, and a small party heading back to the main highway. I would wager, sir, that our quarry is the one heading into the hills."

"Well, well, well, well!" Chou Banbang sniffed the air. "The time for vengeance has come! Let us be on our way!"

"Sir, wouldn't it be more chivalrous to see to the people fleeing first? What would Liu Bei do?"

For that was the guiding star of this order of knighthood, the Three Brothers. Organized in imitation of Terrae Romanum's west, the Three Brothers was now the premier order of knights in the Sinitic south, and Chou Banbang was one of its acolytes. His father had been a member, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. Membership in the Three Brothers was a requirement for high office.

Chou Banbang blinked once, then twice, then frowned, a new thought percolating in his head. "You fool! Why would we put vengeance above chivalry? Back in the truck! Let's see if we can catch up to the escapees and help them!"

"Very good, sir."

Parina

"Eh? Logstown?" The woman seemed a bit confused. "Ah, you mean that shanty town I left back there... what the devil do you want to go back there for?" She pointed onwards, in the direction the tribesmen had fled. "All the excitement's that way, don't you know?" Of course, there was a quick answer for that, and Valentine was happy to provide it. The woman blinked once or twice, then looked him over. "Well, seems like the sensible thing to do would be to go and nip this problem in the bud, eh? Show them some steel and they'll melt away! Right? Right!"

She offered her hand. "Dorsey Owen, lately of Her Majesty's Marines." Then she withdrew her hand. "Though maybe this isn't the time to get better acquainted, what? Looking at you, you'd probably be better off heading to Logstown. Well, the cannibals aren't going to get any hungrier. Why don't we head back that way first? Plenty of time for me to come back and sort them out, don't you think?"

Crimetopolis

The dragon seemed somewhat... perplexed by this response. Young, inexperienced and hungry, it didn't quite seem to understand the concept of being shot at. If it was being shot at. The soft ammo ran against the armoured hide of the beast, flattened as was their purpose, and fell to the ground with a little pfft. It extended its wings and let out a loud roar. Just in time for one of the rounds to hit its less-protected wing flesh and tear through en-route to its destiny to embed iself in a tree.

Now the dragon took stock. The damage to its wing would (it knew in a primitive, reptilian way) heal, and heal relatively quickly. But it was an angry super predator now, and it took a deep beath. The next round of bullets was met with a burst of superheated exhaust, and they melted into slag before falling onto the ground, where they puddled.

"What are you doing?" A voice called from up above. A bearded man looked out from an autogyro that had silently arrived with the storm. "That's an endangered animal, you know!"

[Crimetopolis]

Kragholm Free States

Angelina, meanwhile, had never had much predatory cunning. The Golden Fleece demanded of its servants that they fight like the heroes of yore, toe to talon with the greatest monsters that a cruel creation could devise. And here, she saw her chance. She leapt upon the beast's side, stabbing it repeatedly with her short blade, even as it bucked and fought beneath her. She held on with one strong hand, her fingers dug into its white fur, refusing to let go and stop her murderous frenzy.

With one final stab she managed to hit something vital, and the creature roared in fury and anger, finally throwing the squire off its back, her sword still buried in its flesh where she had left it. Angelina landed on the ground like a bag of wet sand, a grunt leaving her as she managed to roll back onto her stomach, preparing to leap up. It was all dependent on where the beast would go from here in its death throes.

Pan-Asiatic States

"Missed the bastards."

"Indeed, sir."

The truck turned into the village's main square with a loud roar. On board were two strangely mismatched figures. A tall, distinguished man dressed in what could only be described as 'tropical formal'; tan suit, long tie, and wide-brimmed hat. His companion was dressed in the clothes of an earlier day: Long, flowing golden robes, belted at the waist with a band of fabric, his hair in a topknot, the only concession to the 21st century being a backpack that hung loosely over one shoulder.

The truck stopped, and its crew disembarked. The shorter, more archaic, figure ran around the ruins, calling out challenges to the jungle. His companion, though, slowly circled the square, studying every sign and print he could find, before eventually nodding and standing up. "Sir! I think you should see this!"

The squire, Chou Banbang, stopped his shouting and went to the servant, Sriwidadi. "What, what, what is it?" In a nutshell, this was the labour division of the DaoyuZhongguo. Chou Banbang could trace his ancestry back to the halls of the Tang Dynasty, which had first begun colonization of the southern islands. Sriwidadi, meanwhile, could trace his ancestry back no more than three generations, at a stretch.

The servant bowed to his master. "There are tracks leading in two directions. A large force heading into the hills, and a small party heading back to the main highway. I would wager, sir, that our quarry is the one heading into the hills."

"Well, well, well, well!" Chou Banbang sniffed the air. "The time for vengeance has come! Let us be on our way!"

"Sir, wouldn't it be more chivalrous to see to the people fleeing first? What would Liu Bei do?"

For that was the guiding star of this order of knighthood, the Three Brothers. Organized in imitation of Terrae Romanum's west, the Three Brothers was now the premier order of knights in the Sinitic south, and Chou Banbang was one of its acolytes. His father had been a member, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. Membership in the Three Brothers was a requirement for high office.

Chou Banbang blinked once, then twice, then frowned, a new thought percolating in his head. "You fool! Why would we put vengeance above chivalry? Back in the truck! Let's see if we can catch up to the escapees and help them!"

"Very good, sir."

Parina

"Eh? Logstown?" The woman seemed a bit confused. "Ah, you mean that shanty town I left back there... what the devil do you want to go back there for?" She pointed onwards, in the direction the tribesmen had fled. "All the excitement's that way, don't you know?" Of course, there was a quick answer for that, and Valentine was happy to provide it. The woman blinked once or twice, then looked him over. "Well, seems like the sensible thing to do would be to go and nip this problem in the bud, eh? Show them some steel and they'll melt away! Right? Right!"

She offered her hand. "Dorsey Owen, lately of Her Majesty's Marines." Then she withdrew her hand. "Though maybe this isn't the time to get better acquainted, what? Looking at you, you'd probably be better off heading to Logstown. Well, the cannibals aren't going to get any hungrier. Why don't we head back that way first? Plenty of time for me to come back and sort them out, don't you think?"

Crimetopolis

The dragon seemed somewhat... perplexed by this response. Young, inexperienced and hungry, it didn't quite seem to understand the concept of being shot at. If it was being shot at. The soft ammo ran against the armoured hide of the beast, flattened as was their purpose, and fell to the ground with a little pfft. It extended its wings and let out a loud roar. Just in time for one of the rounds to hit its less-protected wing flesh and tear through en-route to its destiny to embed iself in a tree.

Now the dragon took stock. The damage to its wing would (it knew in a primitive, reptilian way) heal, and heal relatively quickly. But it was an angry super predator now, and it took a deep beath. The next round of bullets was met with a burst of superheated exhaust, and they melted into slag before falling onto the ground, where they puddled.

"What are you doing?" A voice called from up above. A bearded man looked out from an autogyro that had silently arrived with the storm. "That's an endangered animal, you know!"

"He tried to break into my dog pen and eat my Charlie!"Bubba yelled. "State Police put up notice on the radio news last week we can shoot them if we catch them raiding cattle or pets, too. Don't you monitor the news?"

The Dragon again moved towards Charlie's pen. "CHARLIE, DADDY'S COMIN'!" He hopped on the bed of his 1991 Toyota pick up truck and from there into the dog's pen. He snatched the miniature German shepherd mix dog and shot for his trailer. The dragon still stalked forwards.

[Kragholm Free States]

Härnavik, Kragholm Free States

The sound that came from the beast's mouth now was not the deep roar of a bear, but a terrible piercing screech so loud it shattered the thick glass windows and forced anyone still standing to clasp their hands to their ears in pain. It was not a sound any normal creature could make, but the desperate, furious cry of something wholly unnatural. Only now, as clouds in the night sky slowly cleared and moonlight filtered in, was it apparent that the beast was not bleeding. Well, the viscous black ichor that oozed from its many wounds was not blood, that much was plain. It reared up on powerful hind legs, head crashing upwards through the ceiling with terrifying ease, and, with a speed and raw power that defied all belief, it leapt, a deafening cacophony of splintered wood and crumbling stone falling to the floor along with the ichor-stained sword the beast had shaken loose from its side, which now embedded itself point-first in the ground. The moon flooded in now, bright around the edges of the newly made hole in the tavern's roof. A deep thud shook the ground beneath Angelina's feet as the creature landed outside, bringing a fresh shower of snow and splinters from the ruined ceiling.

As if out of nowhere, the rapid barking of dogs drew closer, the sound of sleds on snow quickly drowned out by the crack of rifle fire and yelled commands. The floorboards trembled once more as heavy, uneven footsteps loped away into the night, fast but pained. The guns ceased firing, and for a few seconds all was silent. Then boots crunched on snow, and four figures jogged through the wrecked doorway with weapons raised.

"Alla på knäna! Upp med händerna! Nu!" The lead figure gestured sharply with his rifle as his comrades fanned out, greatcoats flapping in the icy wind and steel cuirasses glinting. The barkeep, and a handful of other civilians who had found their way back into the main room, sank to their knees immediately, the former's old shotgun hastily discarded. The armed man took a step towards Angelina. "Identifiera dig själv omedelbart!"

[Crimetopolis]

Bubba and Charlie dove insifr the trailer and slammed the door shut. The dragon breathed fire but didn't hit anything. The dogs, Bubba, and the kitten then entered a bolt hole that took them into an undeground storm bunker. Bubba closed the hatch and activated a radio-telephone. "Hello? State Police? we got a dragon loose here." "We'll send help." The Kronstadt detachment sprung to life as cops piled into cruisers, They were armed with .30-06 bolt action rifles, .45 1911A1. pistols, a Beretta 38/44 SMG. One cop even had an Elektrostorm Plasmakov assault carbine, too.

Sirens blaring, they arrived and surrounded the dragon in a U formation. A Sgt said. "Be careful, let the dragon go if he leaves." But would it leave? The Dragon roared and went airborne. "It's headed east towards Freeport." yelled a trooper. The sgt radioed the detachment whom in turned radioed Freehold. All over Freehold, civil defense sirens blared. The Federal Guard took up positions around hospitals, animal clinics. and fire/rescue station as people and cats and dogs went to underground bunkers. Tanks and MLRS moved into positions.
From Auto City air base, a flight of F-16s began tracking the beast. "Major Hollings! There's a guy on an Autogyro trying to interact with the dragon, sir." "Hold your fire. If he can drive it off, we let it go." Dragons were hyper rare in Crimetopolis and the last major dragon raid
was 1958.[TAGS Auto Gyro}

[Pan-Asiatic States]

Pan-Asiatic States

"Missed the bastards."

"Indeed, sir."

The truck turned into the village's main square with a loud roar. On board were two strangely mismatched figures. A tall, distinguished man dressed in what could only be described as 'tropical formal'; tan suit, long tie, and wide-brimmed hat. His companion was dressed in the clothes of an earlier day: Long, flowing golden robes, belted at the waist with a band of fabric, his hair in a topknot, the only concession to the 21st century being a backpack that hung loosely over one shoulder.

The truck stopped, and its crew disembarked. The shorter, more archaic, figure ran around the ruins, calling out challenges to the jungle. His companion, though, slowly circled the square, studying every sign and print he could find, before eventually nodding and standing up. "Sir! I think you should see this!"

The squire, Chou Banbang, stopped his shouting and went to the servant, Sriwidadi. "What, what, what is it?" In a nutshell, this was the labour division of the DaoyuZhongguo. Chou Banbang could trace his ancestry back to the halls of the Tang Dynasty, which had first begun colonization of the southern islands. Sriwidadi, meanwhile, could trace his ancestry back no more than three generations, at a stretch.

The servant bowed to his master. "There are tracks leading in two directions. A large force heading into the hills, and a small party heading back to the main highway. I would wager, sir, that our quarry is the one heading into the hills."

"Well, well, well, well!" Chou Banbang sniffed the air. "The time for vengeance has come! Let us be on our way!"

"Sir, wouldn't it be more chivalrous to see to the people fleeing first? What would Liu Bei do?"

For that was the guiding star of this order of knighthood, the Three Brothers. Organized in imitation of Terrae Romanum's west, the Three Brothers was now the premier order of knights in the Sinitic south, and Chou Banbang was one of its acolytes. His father had been a member, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. Membership in the Three Brothers was a requirement for high office.

Chou Banbang blinked once, then twice, then frowned, a new thought percolating in his head. "You fool! Why would we put vengeance above chivalry? Back in the truck! Let's see if we can catch up to the escapees and help them!"

"Very good, sir."

Major Conflict Militarized Zone 26 (MCMZ26)
Kachin Prefecture Countryside
Burmese Soviet Socialist Republic
People's Federation of Pan-Asiatic States

---

The thunderous exchange of gunfire between a company from the 10th Pan-Asiatic Mechanized Infantry Division, who had been escorting the precious cargo, and the Neo-Kuomintang Army could be heard in the distance, beyond a long stretch of natural-borne trenches, a line of brown hills drenched with blood and sulfur.

A Burmese family and their friends, ridden with wounds, slogged through the mud of the crossfire, ducking their heads and jogging at a velocity which their bodies could handle. The children were fleeing for their lives, arms flailing in panic and trauma. They may still possess an iota of life, but their livelihoods were almost certainly destroyed. The homes sustained by their fathers, and their fathers' fathers, was now nothing but a pile of irradiated cobblestone.

On their way to the nearest major urbanity, the father of the family spotted a peculiar sight from afar: what seemed to be, to him at least, men who had jumped straight out of a pre-war Western film. He waved at them frantically, screaming something in a Anu-Hkongso dialect. Certainly, he knew, the foreigners would not understand him. But suffering was a universal language, and the provision for children, a pan-cultural principle. Or so he hoped.

A Pan-Asiatic soldier, Aspirant First-Class Ryo Yong-Sik, accompanied the civilians. Yong-Sik's squad had perished in the ambush, and thus far, he had been the only capable protector among the survivors. Armed with an AM-64 Service Rifle, Yong-Sik had enlisted at the idealistic age of 20, hoping for a life of adventure and service to international socialism. Now, at the age of 34, he had witnessed nothing but suffering and death. His ideal was but one: to ensure no other innocent would lose their lives to the civil strife in Burma.

Yong-Sik's left leg was visibly incapacitated. His knee had been shot by an enemy AK-24 during the ambush, and he ran at a sluggishly painful pace. His ribs were partially crushed. Sweat oozed from his injuries. Upon contact by the convoy of knights, his body lost all function and he collapsed face-first on the dirt below.

The father tried waking Yong-Sik up. He looked with a face of desperation at Chou Banbang, as if to beg for immediate medical attention.

---

In the distance, Guillermo Lim, a Datu (Brigadier-General) of the People's Peacekeeping Army, commanded his men, under heavy fire, to retreat immediately.

"But sir, what about the suits? They cannot fall into enemy hands!", yelled his unit's Babaylan (technology officer), distinguished by his yellow cap. The Babaylan was right. God knows what terror the Neo-Kuomintang could possess if they got their hands on military-grade exosuits.

A fire-team of Neo-Kuomintang soldiers had set themselves upon a nearby Church tower, a battlement, a tank-trap, and a hill: four sharpshooters armed with salvaged GSSR-97 Scout Sniper Rifles. They had the company of the 10th pinned-down like sitting-ducks, who, as it stood, were already facing heavy casualties without any hope of reinforcements.

[Parina]

"Eh? Logstown?" The woman seemed a bit confused. "Ah, you mean that shanty town I left back there... what the devil do you want to go back there for?" She pointed onwards, in the direction the tribesmen had fled. "All the excitement's that way, don't you know?" Of course, there was a quick answer for that, and Valentine was happy to provide it. The woman blinked once or twice, then looked him over. "Well, seems like the sensible thing to do would be to go and nip this problem in the bud, eh? Show them some steel and they'll melt away! Right? Right!"

She offered her hand. "Dorsey Owen, lately of Her Majesty's Marines." Then she withdrew her hand. "Though maybe this isn't the time to get better acquainted, what? Looking at you, you'd probably be better off heading to Logstown. Well, the cannibals aren't going to get any hungrier. Why don't we head back that way first? Plenty of time for me to come back and sort them out, don't you think?"

Valentine Peyton didn’t consider himself a coward. Such a charge might have drawn fists if it was leveled in a barracks. But when Dorsey Owen suggested pursuing the cannibals, charging back into their lair to “show them some steel,” Valentine had to laugh. Excitement? Rushing into a fight with the savages on their own turf, by yourself, wasn’t exciting to him. It was a ticket for a quick death, or a slow one if you were unlucky. Dorsey seemed to figure that out, or maybe she just wanted to get the hobbled Parinan soldier off her hands before setting out on her mad crusade. Fine. If she wanted to die, she could at least help him get the warning out.

“Private Valentine Peyton,” he said by way of introduction. “Mounted Battalion, of the Hampton Rifles Regiment. Look, there will be more of my unit at Logstown, or close by. Once we get there, if you want to come back and take them off yourself, that’s your choice.” He took a few tentative steps forward, wincing in pain whenever he tried to use his twisted ankle. “Did you ride here? Might be a bit of a long slog if I have to walk all the way there on this bum ankle.”

[New Dornalia]

Dornalia

The stranger didn't answer for a moment, just engaging the safety on his pistol and pushing his poncho aside to reveal the holster that hung at his hip, revealing that besides his pistol he carried a machete. But it was just a minute, and then the poncho fell back into place. Again, he tipped his hat to the woman. "That's mighty fair of you, ma'am." He offered his hand to shake hers. He had a strong, firm, trustworthy grip that was aided by the heavy leather gloves he wore. "Mighty fair of you indeed. I reckon I had taken a wrong turn. Don't think my ride much appreciated the map I fed him."

He whistled, high and sharp, putting two fingers to his lips and blowing sharply. A moment later, cranking up from a hill, came a short, squat quadrupedal... creature? It certainly acted like a living animal, for all that it was made of gleaming steel and only had a single red LED in the middle of its head. It carried on its side, under the heavy saddlemat, a large shotgun, some canteens, and a few items of luggage. The stranger knelt by it, whistling again, tunelessly, and pulled a map from a cabinet that opened at his touch. "We were looking for the town of Santa Muerte de Arroyo Seco." Even though he might have been a gringo, he said the Spanish words like a local. "Was told it might profit me to have a look. And I reckon they may be right." He nodded down the road, to where the truck had gone. "Now, I'll admit to being a mite curious what was going on there, ma'am. But if there's one thing ol' Warden Norris taught me, the people with the guns out are usually the bad guys."

Alicia nodded, even as she was distracted by the man's unusual mount. It resembled some of the horses, or even the other mounts on her father's estancia. However, it was...well, it was mechanical in nature. Not something you saw everyday, but then again, life was full of little surprises. After providing some directions to both the Estancia and to Santa Muerte de Arroyo Seco--a few finger points and gestures to the horizon, pointing out road signs and natural landmarks were thrown into the mix--Alicia then mournfully nodded as the man mused about how one could detect the baddies in life.

"Well, around these parts, that criterion might get pretty hard to apply. See, everyone around here's been armed up, more than usual. Then again, when you've been facing down intolerant jackanapes with a penchant for violence and defamation for generations upon generations, well, one needs to be well armed." She then mused, her tone brightening up, "Hell, you just helped me escape said intolerant jackanapes--they had kidnapped me, actually, while I was in town doing some shopping. They killed my bodyguard and captured me before I could draw and defend myself. They at least treated me well, when they had me captive. If'n I had to guess why they did it? Well, Pops is a pretty big name in these parts.: Shaking her head, Alicia smiled a weary smile and sarcastically noted, "I was making good my escape. Problem was, well, I've got two feet and no gun, they've got four wheels and a truckload full of goons."

Alicia then crossed herself in a manner the man might recognize as the Catholic manner, and uttered a prayer in English. Without dropping her accent or losing a beat, she spoke quickly, uttering a prayer decidedly different than what the man might have been used to--assuming he was a praying man, so to speak.

"Thank You, Holy Mother, for providing me with this man's protection against the Warmongers. Their blasphemies against You and their desire to harm Your Children are no match for Your protection. Grant this man and Your Child, Holy Mother, the protection You provide as we make our journey, and ensure that the Warmongers' efforts are in vain. Amen."

[Caer Lleon]

(OOC: Sorry. There were a series of problems on my end that just made concentrating on posting for other people very, very difficult. I'm going to try to get back into the swing of things. This wait was inexcusable.)

New Dornalia

"Well." The Tejian raised his hat and scratched his head. "If that don't beat all. You're a follower of Our Lady of Shadows?" He kissed his fingers, then crossed himself in the proper catholic fashion. "Not that I'm a follower of her rites, but we get some followers of the rites of Castilla de Nueva in Tejas. I won't turn down a prayer to an angel of the Lord." He had not,as of yet, given his name. It seemed unlikely that he would even if asked. "Now, what's this about these Warmongers? Why'd they go and do a thing like that to you?"

Parina

Dorsey looked around. Now that a course of action had been decided upon, the woman was determined to act in support of that decision as best she could. "My jeep's over the hill. Do you reckon you can make it?" She offered the infantryman her shoulder.

Pan-Asiatic States

Chou Banbang wasn't a healer, and he almost visibly recoiled at the sight of the injured man. But his heart was, at least, big enough to direct his servant to do his part. "Sriwidadi! See to the man while I get our friends on board." He looked around the people they had rescued. "As for the rest of you... why not hop on the back of the truck?" He spoke in a broad Nanhan accent, but pointed to the truck, hoping they would understand his orders. After a moment of confusion the family did just that, while Sriwadidi produced painkillers, alcohol and bandages from somewhere in his suit and set to work on Ryo Yong-Sik.

The manservant and Ryo Yong-Sik had no language in common except the very broadest defnition of 'Chinese'. But he did his best to make the man comfortable as he bandaged them.

"Well, we'll have to take these people to the nearest safe settlement before I can go after those men." Chao Banbang muttered to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Yes, sir."

Kragholm

Angelina raised her hands and spoke slowly, clearly and loudly. Some aspects of Avalon's culture had spread throughout Terra Romana. "I am Angelina Kometopoulis, a squire of the Golden Fleece. My passport is in my left breast pocket. I came here seeking a monster. One attacked this tavern. The longer you hold me up here, the more time it has to escape."