Snippet #1500038

((I will drastically alter my writing style as I please because I am currently writing bi-polar or something. I swear, I've had past-tense, current-tense, and I think future-tense between these posts. OH WELL.))

The mules were harnessed, luggage hastily thrown on wagons, customers loaded (and then reloaded, in the case of John), and faster than most caravans could manage (that's why you go with D&M, folks), the party was off... like a pack of three-legged turtles. They were slow going, Hogan would admit, but if his clients thought it was easy moving something like this without warning, they were wrong - and wearing blinders. To be honest, they were doing better than the other caravans around them, some of which weren't even trying to flee - their leaders were too busy gaping at the explosions like dying fish.

Within a few moments, the mules and the few merc-owned horses had picked up speed, going at a moderate trot and slowly putting the chaos behind them. Already, D&M Party 23 was at the front of the fleeing pack, and as morbid as the idea was, Hogan was glad the other caravans were having more trouble, glad they were stuck between his own party and the Fjord's Army. A distraction was what they needed.

Fortunately, it seemed most of his clients were able-bodied soldiers, capable of fending off the Fjord just as well as his own employees. Unfortunately, the Fjord wasn't something you could beat that easily. A few well-placed shots might drop a dozen, two dozen of their soldiers - but hundreds more awaited. It was less an army, and more a hive of incredibly angry, deranged bees. The Fjord's Bee-Hive would be immensely more accurate of a title.

"Stop firing at once," he ordered, as he rode along side Wagon 3, "we certainly don't need the attention right now."

It was only when Bob mentioned Dyardin's absence that he noticed the android was gone, or that the other robot had even left. Perhaps he was going a bit too blind to continue this, if he hadn't noticed the tin-can walk off and then return. He nodded in response, before returning to the front of the caravan. Ahead, a mile or so up the road, the shrubby bushland and over-grown fields grew thicker, becoming thin woods that seemed to continue thickening as they headed west-ward. If they could get there, get blocked from view, they could probably make it. Hopefully. It would at least make them less of a target, when compared to the city.

If they're really lucky, they'll not only get there, but one of the wagons won't get caught in the pot-holes that make up most of the road, or, at least, nothing of importance will fall out. It's defientally going to be a bumpy ride.

~~~~

New objective!
Thicker Than Blood
Mission Details:
Be the Fjord's youngest son, Malachai.
ERROR! ERROR!
Malachai is unplayable!

Back at Blacksburg, the PLAYER attempts to become Malachai, the fourth and youngest son of the Fjord - the apple of the old war-horse's eye, and the bane of the legendary army. For, while his older brothers, Isaiah, Ezekiel and Mordecai became figure-head generals who never saw battle, or scholars, or tyrannical mayors, Malachai was filled with blood lust that could not be sated by such trivial jobs.

Instead, he longed to be a warrior, a soldier like his father before him, hacking and slashing with the slave army. And until recently, things had gone pretty well all things considered.

Until an android by the name of Dyradin came along, and unlike most before him, charged into the swarm of purple and red, and hacked his own bloody path. The android cut into poorly-armed foot soldier and masked general alike, and Malachai was no exception. He hadn't even seen the robotic man coming, had only felt the blade enter his chest, spear his heart, and then recoil, before his feet gave out and he collapsed to the ground, bleeding out and staining his coat an even darker red, before anyone even noticed.

It wasn't until later, that one of the Fjord's most trusted men, Colonel Jaakan, found the lifeless body, hoisted it upon his shoulders, and returned it to camp so it could return home and receive proper burial.

Although all forms of battle and blood lust are prized by the Fjord and his men, no kind is held in higher regard than revenge, especially when it avenges kinfolk, a trait held from the army's Prefect start.

Soon there would be hell to pay, for the metal man and his comrades, for when the Fjord would find out, no volcano would be able to match his fury.

((I hope that didn't cross the boarders of God modding to strongly; I just sort of needed fuel for the Fjord, to put some other plans in action, and it, well, seemed like a good opportunity. I will make a character profile for Jaakan shortly; the Fjord will remain an NPC for most, if not all of the game, to be controlled to a limited extent by everyone; his other three sons are open for play, if anyone wants 'em.))