Friday, January 28, 2011

Not Coming in from the Cold

Spring, TN 1935
Barrington Basin

Anatol Medalev jammed his shovel into the ground, and slowly eased his sunhat off his head to wipe his brow.

"Drink, sir?"

Medalev looked over at Jim Upton, who was drenched in sweat, but offered his canteen to the older man. He nodded curtly, wiped the sweat out of his moustache, and took a swig.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Contemplating Alternatives

The floor of the caravan rumbled below her, somewhere between Peace River and Khayr-ad Din. She remembered little of the first two days after setting forth from her hometown; the Doc had her pumped full of morphine to the point of oblivion. But by the third day, she began to return to lucidity, and she wasn't happy at the direction her thoughts were taking.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

New Beginnings

Jan Augusta sat in the galley of a Longrunner caravan truck as it rocked gently, staring down at his cup of cawfee. The truck's giant wheels were insulating the worst of the rough terrain of the Karak Wastes, but the winds had picked up, buffeting the ten-truck caravan.

"You ain't ever been to Massada before, eh pilgrim?" an older man took the cawfee pot and poured himself a steaming cup, sitting down across from Jan.

Strange bedfellows

It was mid-afternoon when she saw her house again, exactly as she'd left it. Four days wasn't the longest she'd been away, not by a long shot, but waves of nostalgia washed over her as she turned the corner and it came into view. She walked slowly, the pain in her abdomen gradually getting the better of her. Sooner or later, she'd have to lie down. Probably sooner rather than later. But some things were higher priority than bed rest.

Kain Delacroix walked beside her, matching her pace. She'd had mixed feelings about inviting him, but in the end it was him or a PaxSec agent, and she surprised herself by realizing that at this particular moment, she trusted the Southerner more.

We'll have to wait and see...

They met in a darkened alley two blocks from the station. Their long coats casting longer shadows.

“How did it go?" the shorter man asked.

“Good, it won’t hold up to any scrutiny, but it should give him time to get away and disappear.” The duster emphasised the larger man’s build. Both clung to the shadows threateningly.

“I wish he had let us do it our way,” whispered the first man, looking around for anyone who might have followed his counterpart.

“I made a good pitch. I just don’t think he’s inclined to owing us a favour. I even tried to sweeten your offer a bit.”

“Oh?” said the smaller man as they started moving through the dark streets. The two wraiths flattened against a wall at the sound of an approaching vehicle.


Colonel Lenaris' office was cool despite the late spring heat wave, yet Maia Kessler felt as though she were melting under the force of a particularly powerful spotlight. Despite the head of PaxSec's extraordinarily busy schedule in the wake of the BRF attacks, he had managed to carve out a full hour to go over Maia's debriefing report. And the Colonel was not one for pleasantries.

It had taken Maia the better part of a day to compile the document; it was comprehensive, chronicling the four days when she had been "off the grid" with Chambers and Delacroix. The only part she had omitted was the very end, the negotiations in Hell's Gate. Chambers had impressed upon her the importance of PaxSec -- and all of Peace River -- believing that Gabriel was alive and Ormand was dead. So, at the very end of her report, Maia had been deliberately vague, stating that her wounds had prevented her from reaching Hell's Gate, and that she had only her colleagues' reports about what had happened.

Naturally, Lenaris did not believe her.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Coming in From the Cold?

The three whiskeys were set down on the small table between the two men, and Kwei Lingling, the proprietor of the Cimmaro Cafe, pocketed the five Peace River dollar bill that was waiting for him. He nodded with a tight smile to the two customers, and then headed back to the bar for the next order.

The Kingmaker

Spirits were running high in the Saracens' club, the Keep. Kaly Laing felt that her gang had come out of this whole ordeal better off; their main rivals, the Forzi, had been crushed, the gang was flush with weapons and munitions to hold their ground and the new alliance with the Guild, although still hard to define, made her feel like things were going their way.

Of gratitudes and debts.

Sirens rang out in the distance. Everywhere you looked were signs of the aftermath of the unrest of the last few days.

The storm shield had been closed for only 72 hours, benighting the curfewed city but the sense of relief once it had been retracted was at potent as Helios’ rays.

Friday, January 21, 2011


Tonight, at long last, saw the end of our current module, The Paxton Gambit. We got to kill a lot of guys, and Kain killed a man by ripping his throat out with his bare hands. So success on all accounts, except that one of the terrorists we really wanted alive committed suicide. That said, it's onwards to Wordslingin'!

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Warm Welcome

35 Spring, TN1935
Khayr ad-Din

"Well miss, this is where we part ways. My caravan's heading down to Westphalia now." Brian Senovo smiled and handed Celina and Tanya their luggage.

"Thank you Mr. Senovo," Celina extended her hand while Tanya looked around at the front lot of the Badlands Caravan Guild office in Khayr ad-Din. She smiled as the two adults shook hands, and then hefted her bag over her shoulder.

Friday, January 14, 2011


Last night's session was start-to-finish combat. A botched infiltration job! A stunningly successful rescue job! An attempt to save the world that was... well, let's say that one had mixed results. Still, dice were rolled! Goons were killed! Plots were foiled! It must be time for wordslingin'!

You Should See the Other Guy

"And you'll have to check the airlock at junction Theta-7. It's been blown," Lt. Fenton Escobar muttered.

"Blown?" the PaxSec agent clad in his imposing black body-armour managed to ask without sounding too incredulous.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Playing for Keeps 3

Peace River was boiling over. There were riots on all four terraces, and at least half of the Prospects were no-go zones for POC and PRDF units. The city was on the edge of catastrophe, and it was all her doing.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Work Ethics

"How the hell does he always know where to find us, Hel?"

Jane Sanchez, the long-time camara operator on Helen Luka's Satellite News Service team turned angrily towards her boss, hands on her hips. Doctor Tom Chambers had left the little room in the tenement block a few minutes ago. Outside, the streets of the Prospects were echoing with gunfire and revolution.

Friday, January 7, 2011


After a two-week hiatus, it was time for more action, more adventure, more surprise plot twists! That's right, it's time for Wordslingin'!

Playing for Keeps 2

Forzi villa Compound
Pacifica Mountains
Near Peace River, 28 Spring, TN1935

The hopper touched down perfectly; the evening breeze was too light to cause any difficulty for the pilot. One woman stepped out onto the tarmac, and walked past the guards waiting at the entrance to the compound.

Hermes 72 - Heavy Gear RPG - Most artwork Copyright 2002 Dream Pod 9, Inc.