Setting
This wide dirt road winds its way through the mountains, and is host to the occasional trading caravan.
Mountain Highway
This wide dirt road winds its way through the mountains, and is host to the occasional trading caravan.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
Mountain Highway is a part of 
Collenham Mountains.
4 Characters Here
Xavier Blitz [2] he is a 16 year old boy who rides a small mecha to fight, and has two robotic arms.
Neon [0] Vigilante obsessed with electronics and bright lights.
Zelaku Salvu [0] "For the love of Azura... Where did I put that book..."
Geoff Cullinan [0] A young boy, who shifts from human to cat, without a hesitation.
Start Character Here »
Eight of them swam in on natural light rays
Greeting Xavier Blitz on this fine day.
The valojelea glowed subtly in the sun,
Dancing, playing, just having fun.
A few more over there, on the road did they bobble,
Meeting death by auto, it was beautiful, but horrible.
Greeting Xavier Blitz on this fine day.
The valojelea glowed subtly in the sun,
Dancing, playing, just having fun.
A few more over there, on the road did they bobble,
Meeting death by auto, it was beautiful, but horrible.
Cars passed by infrequently as Cináed walked onwards. He was starting to feel the exertion of walking in his legs as the way turned to a more consistent incline. He wasn't used to walking for such a long time, but he hadn't wanted to spend any more of his meagre savings on a taxi across the city.
He hoped this journey was worth it after all this. There had to be some reason he wasn't ignoring this dream, that he was having the same one every night. It had to mean something. And having spent seventeen years not having a clue why he was different, why he could control fire in the ways he could? He was willing to take the chance it was nothing in the hopes that wherever he was going, it would bring him one step closer to finding his fate... or something that gave him some sort of clue as to who he was.
Something. He kept saying that, but what could this even be? What was off in the mountains?
Another car drove by, and Cináed gazed after it enviously. He made a mental note to learn to drive at some point.
_______
It was his fifth night on the trail. The highway had long since lived up to its name, taking him all the way up to the edges of the Collenham Mountains. His campfire glowed softly in the dark of the night, crackling in the silence, whilst a separate hovering ball of fire provided him the vision he needed to see his book.
He didn't feel the cold of the mountain air, his abilities enabling him to radiate enough heat to keep himself perfectly warm, and so his experience of travel so far had been nothing but pleasant. Sure, it was a little boring, trudging on and on and on all day... but there was a peace to travelling through nature that you didn't get in cities.
His legs had stopped protesting a day or two ago. He'd been careful to stretch them out whenever he stopped after the first morning of pain when he woke up teaching him that lesson well and truly clearly. All in all, this could be a lot worse. The exertion each day kept him from growing too bored, not allowing his mind to wander, focused on putting one foot in front of another.
He sure fancied some fast food right now though. Rations weren't exactly the tastiest of meals. Mmm... burgers.
Cináed sighed, setting his book down and leaning back to gaze up at the starlit sky. You certainly couldn't mistake him for a veteran traveller, with his mind already missing the luxuries of civilisation.[/color]
He hoped this journey was worth it after all this. There had to be some reason he wasn't ignoring this dream, that he was having the same one every night. It had to mean something. And having spent seventeen years not having a clue why he was different, why he could control fire in the ways he could? He was willing to take the chance it was nothing in the hopes that wherever he was going, it would bring him one step closer to finding his fate... or something that gave him some sort of clue as to who he was.
Something. He kept saying that, but what could this even be? What was off in the mountains?
Another car drove by, and Cináed gazed after it enviously. He made a mental note to learn to drive at some point.
_______
It was his fifth night on the trail. The highway had long since lived up to its name, taking him all the way up to the edges of the Collenham Mountains. His campfire glowed softly in the dark of the night, crackling in the silence, whilst a separate hovering ball of fire provided him the vision he needed to see his book.
He didn't feel the cold of the mountain air, his abilities enabling him to radiate enough heat to keep himself perfectly warm, and so his experience of travel so far had been nothing but pleasant. Sure, it was a little boring, trudging on and on and on all day... but there was a peace to travelling through nature that you didn't get in cities.
His legs had stopped protesting a day or two ago. He'd been careful to stretch them out whenever he stopped after the first morning of pain when he woke up teaching him that lesson well and truly clearly. All in all, this could be a lot worse. The exertion each day kept him from growing too bored, not allowing his mind to wander, focused on putting one foot in front of another.
He sure fancied some fast food right now though. Rations weren't exactly the tastiest of meals. Mmm... burgers.
Cináed sighed, setting his book down and leaning back to gaze up at the starlit sky. You certainly couldn't mistake him for a veteran traveller, with his mind already missing the luxuries of civilisation.[/color]
"It's fucking cold. I wish I had another jacket. Well, at least I'm alive...for now."
Onward. Sahlie continued his long trek up the road up the mountains. A lot of up and not enough down, to be honest.
Onward. Sahlie continued his long trek up the road up the mountains. A lot of up and not enough down, to be honest.
Stefan yawned as he drove his delivery truck down the highway. He looked to his right at the man sleeping beside him in the passenger seat. Both men were heavily tattooed where their tattoos were visible. All of the tattoos consisting of Russian gang signifierrs. Stefan there was a soldier who'd drawn blood, his partner was the same.
"How much longer? The sleeping man asked, "Give or take fifteen minutes until we're off the mountain if we keep going at this speed. And then we're on our way to Wing City." Stefan answered, "Wake me when we're closer to sea level." The other man said, opting to go back to sleep.
The two gangsters were on their way to Wing City after picking up a shipment of drugs from Arteghia. It was a simple milk run, as far as they were concerned. No one except their own people knew they were coming and going, when they were coming and going and how they were coming and going.
Or so they thought.
"Move!" Stefan yelled, blowing his horn at a van that had merged in front of him. It was moving slowly, seemingly the driver wasn't in much of a hurry. And then van's back doors flew open, several masked men were inside with one aiming a rifle at Stefan.
"Holy shit!" He shouted, several bullets slammed through the windshield. One hitting Stefan's shoulder ashe ducked down, causing the man to jerk and send the truck swerving sharply to one side. It nearly hit other vehicles as it began to roll onto it's side despite Stefan's best efforts to regain control. His sleeping partner was more than awake when the truck finally fell on it's side and began to slide down the highway.
The van in front of them came a stop, the masked men climbing out with their weapons, assault rifles and plasma riffles, in hand. They swarmed towards the crashed truck, aiming their weapons at approaching vehicles in order to keep civilians away.
"Richard?" Stefan called out, searching for his partner as he tried to muster the strength to move.
Richard was already out of the truck, uzi in hand as he tried to remain hidden behind the truck. When the attackers got close he popped up from behind the truck, unleashing a barrage of gunfire on them. Two of the attackers went down before Richard himself caught bullets and plasma in his chest.
"Get them in the van!" One of the masked men shouted, several of his people picking up their two injured comrades and carrying them back to their vehicle. The apparent leader advanced on the truck quickly, shotgun in hand. He kicked the windshield, sending glass flying into Stefan's face.
He kneeled down, letting his unseen eyes find Stefan's. The man wore a dragon mask in red and green, stylized to resemble Chinese dragons. He lifted the mask up to reveal his very Asian face.
"Do you know who I am?" He asked Stefan, "I'm Joe Lin. The yellow motherfucker your boss tried to kill. You done fucked up." He said, some of the other masked men using spraypaint to write on the top of the overturned truck. "I'm still here." Joe continued, "And, I'm mad. I'm really mad." He said, aiming his shotgun at Stefan's face.
The Russian gangster remained quiet, he showed no fear of death even as it held a gun to his head. "Kill me if you're going to kill me." Stefan said to Joe, opening his mouth to say more until Joe fired his shotgun into Stefan's chest.
"Shut the fuck up." He said, lowering his mask over his face again and heading back to the van. His men finishing their message on the truck.
'冚家鏟鬼佬', it said on the truck, translated into English to mean 'May your whole family die, white devils'.
The van of masked men drove off, leaving two dead bodies and a truck full of drugs for the law to find. And a very literal threat for Sharashka and his Bratva.
"How much longer? The sleeping man asked, "Give or take fifteen minutes until we're off the mountain if we keep going at this speed. And then we're on our way to Wing City." Stefan answered, "Wake me when we're closer to sea level." The other man said, opting to go back to sleep.
The two gangsters were on their way to Wing City after picking up a shipment of drugs from Arteghia. It was a simple milk run, as far as they were concerned. No one except their own people knew they were coming and going, when they were coming and going and how they were coming and going.
Or so they thought.
"Move!" Stefan yelled, blowing his horn at a van that had merged in front of him. It was moving slowly, seemingly the driver wasn't in much of a hurry. And then van's back doors flew open, several masked men were inside with one aiming a rifle at Stefan.
"Holy shit!" He shouted, several bullets slammed through the windshield. One hitting Stefan's shoulder ashe ducked down, causing the man to jerk and send the truck swerving sharply to one side. It nearly hit other vehicles as it began to roll onto it's side despite Stefan's best efforts to regain control. His sleeping partner was more than awake when the truck finally fell on it's side and began to slide down the highway.
The van in front of them came a stop, the masked men climbing out with their weapons, assault rifles and plasma riffles, in hand. They swarmed towards the crashed truck, aiming their weapons at approaching vehicles in order to keep civilians away.
"Richard?" Stefan called out, searching for his partner as he tried to muster the strength to move.
Richard was already out of the truck, uzi in hand as he tried to remain hidden behind the truck. When the attackers got close he popped up from behind the truck, unleashing a barrage of gunfire on them. Two of the attackers went down before Richard himself caught bullets and plasma in his chest.
"Get them in the van!" One of the masked men shouted, several of his people picking up their two injured comrades and carrying them back to their vehicle. The apparent leader advanced on the truck quickly, shotgun in hand. He kicked the windshield, sending glass flying into Stefan's face.
He kneeled down, letting his unseen eyes find Stefan's. The man wore a dragon mask in red and green, stylized to resemble Chinese dragons. He lifted the mask up to reveal his very Asian face.
"Do you know who I am?" He asked Stefan, "I'm Joe Lin. The yellow motherfucker your boss tried to kill. You done fucked up." He said, some of the other masked men using spraypaint to write on the top of the overturned truck. "I'm still here." Joe continued, "And, I'm mad. I'm really mad." He said, aiming his shotgun at Stefan's face.
The Russian gangster remained quiet, he showed no fear of death even as it held a gun to his head. "Kill me if you're going to kill me." Stefan said to Joe, opening his mouth to say more until Joe fired his shotgun into Stefan's chest.
"Shut the fuck up." He said, lowering his mask over his face again and heading back to the van. His men finishing their message on the truck.
'冚家鏟鬼佬', it said on the truck, translated into English to mean 'May your whole family die, white devils'.
The van of masked men drove off, leaving two dead bodies and a truck full of drugs for the law to find. And a very literal threat for Sharashka and his Bratva.
#:
Issachar Remaeus vanishes into nothingness, but you get the feeling they are heading somewhere else.
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