csyphrett

Re: Gaming with Strangers 10 "I've come for the artifact you're holding." The Egyptoid floated through the ruined storefront. "Give it up and I'll let you go free." "I think that it is mine." Red crystal armor carried a newcomer from the back of the store. "I was here first after all." The cowboy backed up against the end of a shelf. He looked pinned in and uncertain in the face of the odds. The woman tossed her book up and down in the air as she looked at the two new strangers. "I'm afraid that you'll both have to come back when the shop has been repaired." She grabbed the spine of the book before it could fall down in her hand. "Woman, don't get in my way." The Egyptoid raised his hand. "I am not in the mood for any mouth." "Oh, really?" The hand on the book tightened. Impressions of her fingertips sank into the cover. "Smooth." The crystal warrior raised his own hands. Glitter reflected in the air as jewelry seemed to coalesce. "I'm not here to fight. Give me what I want and you can have them." A dragon of bone crashed through the ceiling. Other skeletons fell with it, landing lightly on the carpeted floor. A rider dressed in a battered suit and dust waved his hat as the monster roared its challenge. "Well, doggie." The monster rider grinned a little too widely. His eyes seemed to have no irises, leaving pinpoints in the whites. "They're just coming out of the woodwork." The cowboy pointed his pistol at one, then another, seemingly unable to decide which one to shoot first. "My insurance company is never going to believe this." The woman looked around at the devastation. "I can't believe it. All I need now is a guy in a bunny suit showing up with his exploding eggs." "This is my prize." The Egyptoid's mask didn't hide his own amazement. "Are you two challenging me?" "This is about to get ugly in a big way." The cowboy tried to grab the woman's arm to urge her in an aisle where the shelves might give her some kind of protection. She shook him off. "It sure is." The woman whistled. The piercing tone made everyone else cover their ears. "Someone needs to explain what's going on before I lose my temper." "Silence, woman." The Egyptoid pointed a finger at the annoyance. A silencing spell of hooked ankhs leaped forward. That should take care of that. The woman ducked the spinning circle. The encyclopedia flew from her hand. The heavy book struck the magician's silver mask. He flew out in the street. The cowboy turned his pistol on the man in the crystal armor. A pull of the trigger sent the man flying into a wall. Skeletons swarmed him with bites and claws as he aimed at the dragon rider. He went down under the assault. The Egyptoid sat up. He clutched his head. Something seemed wrong with his headpiece. He sent out questing tendrils to examine the mask. The impact from the book seemed to have smashed part of it in. Magic touched the silver. The metal ran then smoothed back in its proper shape. He nodded when he could see out of the eyeholes again. Maybe he should reconsider which one was the real threat. The Egyptoid climbed to his feet. The bone rider's minions seemed to have the upper hand at the moment. He didn't want that. The cowboy needed to escape so he could seize the artifact later without interference. Then the woman sliced through the crowd of moving skeletons with her hand. The cowboy blasted the dragon with his pistol as she dragged him from the battlefield by one hand. The rider worked some magic on the skeleton fragments as the two made it to the street. The Egyptoid sealed the shop as the pair ran from him. That should keep his rivals out of the way while he tried to figure out what was going on. Maybe this was the trap he had expected when he had been lured to Minnesota in the first place. The two fled on foot. The masked magician took to the air, using the rooftops as cover. He wondered how many more rivals he would have to take care before this was done. He hoped answers would soon be forthcoming with a little eavesdropping and keeping the others away from his find. He didn't have to do anything if the cowboy revealed his secret without any confrontation. And he was in the perfect position to lay an ambush and deal with the both of his problems before they knew what was going to happen to them.

Re: Gaming with Strangers 9 The Duster Boy checked doors as he moved through the alleys between the buildings in Marlowe. He supposed he was lucky he had arrived close to the business area of the small city. It would have been a problem in a more suburban area to hide from the dead men wandering the streets. He had three problems as he saw them. Only one mattered to him. He needed to hide and no one was open for business except for restaurants. That made it easy for the dead men to look for him as long as he was on the outside of a building. It also made it easy for searchers to find him if they kept the restaurants under watch and checked any broken windows or doors. And they would check. He knew the type well enough. He found an unlocked door to a book store after some close calls. He ducked inside and locked the glass barrier behind him. He moved away from the windows to avoid detection by sight. Other senses could be a problem if he didn't try to block them somehow. He searched the store for anything that looked like chalk and a candle. A circle with wax seals on the floor might buy him some time until he thought of a way out of this problem. The dead men were tools. He needed to deal with the brains. That brought up his other two problems. The first was his victimization by the ley lines. They had to charge before he was ripped to some other place on the globe. He couldn't control the wait time, and the direction changed with the way the land was changed. That meant that he had no idea where a line was until it charged enough and he stepped on it. His second problem was the mastermind behind the corpses. They could go on forever while he couldn't. As long as he and the brains were in Marlowe, he would have to avoid the minions. He didn't know how long he could do that. "I'm sorry." A voice interrupted his search. "We're closed." The voice belonged to a pleasant looking blonde of indeterminate age. Metallic green eyes didn't quite glare at the intruder standing behind the counter. Black cat face pins decorated the ends of her collar. "I'm sorry to intrude." The Duster Boy didn't see anything that looked like what he wanted. "I'm going to have to ask you to come back in thirty minutes." The shopkeeper gestured for the door. "I will be glad to sell you a book then." "Is there a back door?" The cowboy glanced at the window. "I don't want to go out the front right now." "I guess that will be fine." She gestured for him to follow her. The Duster Boy noted the silence of the place. The woman also seemed to be a wraith, leaving no trace of her passage through the store. He hoped she wasn't a ghost sent to take him to some place unpleasant. The store manager opened a door to a small office full of files and a computer to handle ordering and paperwork. An emergency exit stood under a sign behind a stack of books that needed to go out on the shelves. "There you go." She nodded at the door. Her hands were at her side. "Thank you." The cowboy went for the door. He didn't see any alarms on it. One hand pushed it open so he could step outside. A wall of crimson crystal blocked his way. Light glittered on the triangular facets as the Duster Boy stepped back. His pistol leaped in his hand. The dead men had friends from the look of it. "I think we should go out the front." He backed up, ready for something to happen. A hand emerged from the crystal. "That can't be good." The book dealer grabbed the door and slammed it on the hand with a bang. The Duster Boy stepped back into the main room. He pointed his pistol at the front door. He could shoot the door, and the window on the side as soon as he had a target. Someone had put him on a bull's-eye for whatever reason. And he was in a trap that he had to get out of before something happened to the bystander he encountered. Leaving her behind might get her out of the situation, but he didn't know what his enemies planned. Leaving her behind might get her killed if they thought the two of them were together. A figure in black and silver appeared in front of the door. A hand came up. A sword of light sliced through the front of the store, melting the glass and brick with a touch of its blade. "Odd will lose his mind." The woman shook her head as the Duster raised an arm to keep her behind him. "Odd?" The cowboy kept his pistol aimed at the masked man. Maybe he could get some answers. "My husband." The woman picked up an encyclopedia. "My name is Kitty Dorfman." "Pleased to meet you."

Re: Gaming with Strangers

Re: Interest in a Zodiac game What happens if you combine them? CES

Re: Gaming with Strangers

Re: What Have You Watched Recently? Mib ces

Re: Gaming with Strangers 8 Mojo Bones arrived in Marlowe ahead of schedule. The first place he went was the local cemeteries. The city had three major areas, and a score of smaller ones. He gathered up as much help as he could. He made sure to cover his tracks so no one realized their dearly departed had decided to walk about under his orders. Mojo Bones spread his underlings out to watch the roads and overland routes into Marlowe. He didn't know what his quarry's transportation looked like but he was sure that his spies would spot the man and keep track of him wherever he went. Mojo found a towering building of five stories. He shook his head at the thought this might be the tallest building in town. He climbed the outside to avoid any hassle with alarms. He was there to find one man and deal with him. Killing police and instituting a manhunt while he was on the hunt was to be avoided until he had the prize. He had a feeling that he wasn't the only one out there looking. He hadn't met his rivals yet, but he knew when he was being gamed. Someone else was out there on the prowl. Mojo Bones sat down on the roof. He closed his eyes and let his mind concentrate on his net of watchers. Everything was all clear so far. Luckily, he didn't need to eat and sleep while he was working his magic. That would let him watch through the eyes of his followers until the job was done. He spotted the man from the bird's portrait on the main secondary road leading into Marlowe. He compared the living person walking along to the picture sent to him. The exact match made him move his nearest servant after the man. He needed to know where the man went until more of his forces arrived. Mojo Bones sent out the call for his dead men to converge on the spot where the cowboy had settled to eat. He made sure the net was in two layers. One layer was to go in and get the target. The second layer was ordered to surround the place to keep the cowboy inside the net. Dead men weren't the best thinkers but they followed orders to the letter. And they were virtually indestructible. That should allow them to pick up the man in the coat without a problem. Mojo ordered his troops into the restaurant. The sooner he took the man, the faster he could find out what was really going on. Mojo watched through the eyes of his minions as they pushed into the dining room. The other diners looked up in horror as the dead men shuffled towards the back of the room. They didn't get in the way as the zombies headed for their prey. The cowboy stood up, pulling his hat on. He frowned as the zombies moved to hem him in from the doors. He pulled out a pistol from a holster concealed by his duster and shot out a nearby window. He jumped through to the parking lot on the side of the building. He started running, coat flapping behind him. Mojo Bones directed his troops to converge on the running figure. He was already close enough to touch the man. He didn't want to let the man escape from his grasp. The zombies shuffled into position, filling the open ground with their embalmed bodies. They resembled a moving hedge of suits and ugly makeup jobs. Grasping hands reached out to nab their fish. The man in the duster paused as if considering options. He pointed the pistol at the horde. What could bullets do against the dead? The pistol roared. A blast of flame pushed one of the walking bodies out of the way. He plunged through the gap before hands could grab him. Mojo Bones ordered his henchmen into the chase. He should have known he was facing another magician. That pistol must be the artifact the message mentioned. He needed to get it and examine it. He didn't need the man if he could get the pistol. The zombies lurched after the man in the duster coat. Some grabbed makeshift weapons to echo Mojo's new thoughts on the matter. Why grab the man when you could club him down? Mojo spread out his net to gather his prey in. The cowboy seemed to have vanished while his minions got reorganized. He frowned at the options left to him. The man in the duster had gotten away. If he had any transport spells, he was gone. Mojo Bones had lost and ruined the game for anyone else out there. The man in the duster had gotten away. If he didn't have any transport spells, he was still in town. That made the game winnable and still on. That meant Mojo still had the jump on anyone else who might be hunting the cowboy. Mojo decided to at least make sure that the man hadn't gotten away. That way he could assure himself that he had done everything he could. Mojo ordered his dead men to spread out and keep looking until they found the Duster Boy. They weren't to engage until they had a clear chance at a successful ambush. He couldn't allow his prey to escape again. How long would the man stay in town now that he knew he was being hunted? It couldn't be long in any case. Mojo took a deep breath to center himself. He couldn't allow himself to let anger cloud his judgment. When the dealing was done, he could armchair quarterback his decisions. Now he had get the job done as fast as possible.

Re: Gaming with Strangers 7 He appeared in the street as the dawn broke and the sun climbed for its noon perch. His thin long coat flapped around him as he straightened his old Stetson. Dust covered his boots from years of walking the Earth. Bands of power wrapped around the globe, following their own paths. They connected most places, were changed by Humanity's constant need to move things, and sometimes pooled in certain places. And they carried him from place to place whether he wanted to go or not. He took a moment to get his bearings before walking down the road. A sign said Welcome to Marlowe in greeting as he passed. Plenty of other signs had shown him the way to go just as that one did. Traveling the Earth via ley line was fast, silent, and totally random. And worse for him, it was impossible to get off except for those rare times he actually made it away from a stream. A random stumble over another charged line would send him on his way again before he could blink. Mad George Tribolyte had put an effective curse on him but good. At least he had got a little of his own back. One of the rounds from his gleaming pistol had disrupted Tribolyte's experiment. The resulting explosion seemed to have ruined the magician's lair. He wished he had been able to make sure before that first trip. He took in his first view of the city from a hill top. The sun was behind him. Glass from windows reflected the light with silent grandeur for such a small place. His first impression was a city stuck in the middle of a forest with no way in or out. A yellow school bus passed on the way to pick up its designated passengers. He watched as cars filled the road as people headed for work. Soon he would be mingling with those who had roots for however long he could stay before the line charged and took him away again. His stomach growled. He looked for someplace to eat. A Big Bob's gleamed under the rising sun. The neon open light called to him. He checked his pockets for paper money as he walked down toward the restaurant. He didn't expect them to take one of the gold coins he had liberated from Tribolyte. He found a small wad of ones in his duster pocket. That should be enough for a hot meal. He might have to rob someone sooner or later. His bills were few and far between, but so were his chances of finding honest work. He reached the front door of the restaurant, observed a seat yourself sign, and sought a seat far from others. He liked people when he met them, but first he wanted a cup of coffee after his travels cross country. "How's it going, Hon?" The waitress held pad and pen while maneuvering in a sack of uniform clothing. Her smile brightened the room for a moment as she turned her attention on him. "What can I do for you today?" "I would like some coffee, eggs, hash browns, and some bacon." He didn't know if they actually served a breakfast like that but that seemed like a good bet. "Would you like some toast with that?" The waitress scribbled the order down with her thin fingered hand. "Yes, with jam if you have it." He decided to gamble on that too. This might be a good day for him and everything would go his way. "No problem." The waitress put her pad and pen away. "I'll be right back with your coffee." He watched her walk through the door he presumed led to the kitchen. She returned with a basket of toast with butter and little packets of jam, and a ceramic cup. Those went in front of him with small clinks. She moved away and returned with a glass decanter full of steaming coffee. She poured him out a cup gracefully before taking the pot away. He picked up the bottle of creamer on the table and poured some in his cup, stirring it in with a spoon from a packet left for a new customer. When he thought it looked a more tan than black, he added the sugar. He took a sip and nodded to himself at the taste. He broke the toast into pieces after covering each slice with butter and apple jelly with a fork. He chewed on the cooked bread, enjoying the taste of it as much as possible. His travels had exposed him to a variety of cuisine but nothing was better than buttered and jelly covered toast. It always took him back to his childhood. The waitress returned with three plates of food on a large round tray. She placed each in front of him with a smile, and a neat gesture of her stick arm. "Would you like some more coffee?" She tucked the tray under her arm for safekeeping. "Certainly." He smiled for the first time that day. He put his hat down by his side on the booth seat. "Could I have the check too?" "I will be right back." The waitress lit the room with her smile again before turning and walking off. She returned without the tray, but with the coffee dispenser. He moved the cup closer for her to pour while he ate. The waitress put the check on the table and headed for another customer. He checked the bill, then counted the money he had found in his pocket. He had enough to cover the meal and tip but he would have to get more when he saw the chance. The money went under an emptied plate. The first dead man appeared as he finished.

Re: Gaming with Strangers 6 Bubba Smith walked through the Everglades without leaving a trace of his passage. Modern times encroached on his territory more and more. He gave the developers something to think about so they would quit trying to drain his swamp. Occasionally Bubba liked to introduce a contractor to his best friend, Sally Mae. That tended to be messy but it slowed things down so he could do something to halt their building. Then nature covered over the scars of progress. Sally Mae walked beside Bubba on short legs, tail twitching back and forth. Wet scales glittered in the random shafts of light from the stars above. One eye had been replaced with a crystal the color of turquoise. "Look here, Sally Mae." Bubba petted his pet on the snout. "Isn't this exciting?" Sally Mae grunted. She looked the hunting ground over to see who looked the best to eat with her normal dark eye, and her shiny gem eye. She decided on a butterball doing a cannonball into a private pool. She could make him last for minutes before he died. One of the local tribes had built a casino close to the edge of the Everglades with easy access into the neighboring counties. Bubba had let it pass. The Indians had been there before he had cast off his death. He allowed them some slack to build where they wanted within limits. One of the building committee didn't see it Bubba's way. He felt the tribe should reach anywhere they wanted to get the white man's money. A planned spot for another casino/hotel rested deep in the magician's lands. Bubba didn't plan to allow that building to go up. Bubba spotted the man he was looking for coming out of the casino. A flock of suits followed him. They cackled like hens as the valet went to get the man's car for him. The swamp dweller moved faster, covering ground like an invisible wraith. He met the valet at the car with a punch from his hardened hand. Bubba took the man's vest and put it on over his long john shirt after doffing his jacket. He dragged the attendant into a bush. He hung his jacket and hat over a bush next to where he had dumped the valet. He urged Sally Mae into the back seat. He got behind the wheel, checked his look in the mirror, groped for the memory of driving, then dropped the car off at the canopy. Bubba got out of the car and walked away as the man got behind the wheel. The councilman waved at the other planners and money men before driving away. The swamp master picked up his jacket and hat after dropping the uniform vest beside the sleeping valet. Bubba started walking after the car. He knew it wasn't going far. A gray bird settled on a branch from a transplanted tree. It opened its mouth. "Listen, Bubba Smith." The voice drew his attention for a second. "Shut up, bird." Bubba cut through the brush, looking for the councilman's car. How long had Sally Mae waited before going to town? The gray bird followed. It had a message to deliver. It wasn't going to stop because the recipient didn't want it. "Listen, Bubba Smith." The bird flapped its wings in the swamp walker's face. "Shut up, bird." Bubba found the car pushed up into a tree. He smiled at it shaking. "Get er done, Sally Mae!" "Listen, Bubba Smith." The bird dropped on the roof of the shaking car. It didn't care about the sounds coming from inside. "In three days, a man will enter Marlowe, Minnesota. He carries an artifact that will allow you to exclude anything from the Everglades any time you want." "What does that mean to me?" Bubba flexed his hands. The bird vanished into a picture on the roof of the car. Bubba glanced at the picture. He opened the door of the car. Someone wanted Bubba to go north. He would have to arrange transportation to get up there. He certainly wasn't going to leave Sally Mae behind. Bubba waited for the car to quit shaking. He opened the door. Sally Mae slithered out with an arm in her maw. The blue eye glittered at her master as she trundled away. Bubba turned from the carnage and headed after his retreating sidekick. He considered how he was going to get himself and Sally Mae to Minnesota from South Florida. He turned back to the car and took the bloody wallet from the councilman's torso. He wiped the blood off with a swipe of his hand before checking the contents. Money revealed itself as flowers grew from where the blood drops hit. "We're going North, Sally Mae." Bubba discarded the wallet as he put the money in his pocket. "Pack your bags." The alligator swallowed the arm with a chomp and look in its eyes. The swamp was their homes. What could be in Yankee territory they needed? A swing of its great head, and the giant lizard fell in beside the protector of the wetlands. "Let's just see what's up there that needs a man like me." Bubba headed for the nearest airport with his silent sure-footedness.

Re: Gaming with Strangers 5 Gaming With Strangers 5 Anwar Kaish hated Seattle. He hated the rain, the greenery everywhere, and the things in the ocean. The last hated him back. Anwar did like one thing about the city. Like Old Troy to the south in California, the metropolis had an underground that could be used to travel from one side of the city to the other without being seen. That made his clandestine ingredient gathering easier than he had expected when he had first moved to the city. Anwar stood on the roof of the Space Needle and looked out over the city, the island where the rich played, and the ocean beyond. He imagined seeing breakers rolling into the sound as the sun set behind the horizon. He was at a point where he had exhausted all theories, had been proven wrong in his ideas, and needed something to turn his hand to while he recharged the mental machinery. Anwar turned his gaze to the streets. Ants went about their business with no thought that someone could wreck their lives with a thought. One call for energy and something interesting would happen. He didn't dare do anything like that. Too many of his colleagues would insist that he quit stirring the pot so to speak. Magic was best done under cover of invisibility. Anwar leaped from the roof. The magician spread his arms. A simple thought activated the gold and black costume he wore with the Sphinx mask covering his face. A short cape billowed behind him as he fell toward the street. Anwar called on a wind to give him lift. His course changed so he soared above the rooftops like a bird. He had rented a room in the best hotel in town. It possessed a balcony he could use for quick exits and entrances when he felt the need. Anwar nodded when he saw the railing heading for him. He grabbed the top of it as he dismissed his wind. His feet landed on the balcony's concrete floor silently. A quick glance revealed his room remained undisturbed. If anything looked out of place, he would fly to some other hotel and register there under a false name. Anwar decided the best thing he could do at the moment was appease his wanderlust and think of somewhere he could go for a day trip and take the time off. He thought about things he could do and hated the various ideas that popped into his head for one reason or another. He dwelt on just blasting anything he saw to see who would show up and try to stop him. That should get something akin to a good fight. He could probably kill dozens before anyone tried to stop him. And most people couldn't stop him when he wanted to go forward. He might be able to kill a local vigilante if he made enough noise. That would be a good cap to the night. Anwar decided that he would get something from room service first. Killing people made him hungry. He might as well fortify himself for the coming struggle before leaving. He dismissed his costume as he walked over to the phone. He spent a minute ordering the food and drink. The kitchen told him it would be minutes before it arrived. He thanked them before hanging up. A gray bird descended from nowhere. It landed on the balcony railing outside of his room with a flap of its wings. The motion and noise caused Anwar to reach for a blasting spell to be used. Anwar paused before he acted without thinking. He approached the bird, employing his version of second sight. The creature seemed to be alone, had no spells, and wasn't alive. "Greetings, Egyptoid." The voice issued as smooth as a politician's promise from the mouth of the bird. "A man will be arriving in Marlowe, Minnesota in three days. He is carrying an artifact that will allow you to experiment fully with the whole of time and space without fear of repercussion." The bird dropped to the balcony floor. It dissolved into a picture of a man. Anwar studied the face until a knock on the door told him his food had arrived. He signed the bill and took his tray out to the balcony to eat. Anwar examined the situation from all sides as he ate. After due consideration, he decided to visit this Marlowe. It was the perfect cure for his restlessness even if nothing came of it. He doubted any such device existed that would allow him to travel and observe the whole of events throughout the universe. On the other hand, he had nothing better to do except to look for the thing. Anwar called the desk. He arranged for another week at the hotel. He called the airlines and asked for a plane heading in the right direction. Once he had a ticket arranged to be left at the boarding gate, he decided to get some rest. He didn't know when he would get another chance to sleep if the message was true. Anwar expected others to be aware of this artifact and try to seize it for themselves. They probably got the same type of messenger and message. Anwar settled on the bed. He closed his eyes as he decided to destroy anyone in his way when he did arrive in Marlowe. That would make him a very happy man indeed. The prize would be icing on the cake. Anwar dreamed of shifting sand calling his name.

Re: Gaming with Strangers 4 Callam Raye looked out across the early evening desert. Sand drifted under the faint wind as he stood in some scrub. The nearest civilization was a gas station near the highway heading north to Scottsdale and Phoenix. Callam refused to sweat in full daylight, refused to shiver in the dropping temperatures. He had been living in the desert for many years. Many lizards and snakes had gone into his pot over that time. He hoped to find some bones bleached in the sun. He did that to help polish them before he fitted them together for reuse. Of course, he wasn't going to put the ivory sticks back the way he had stripped them from their bodies. Raye took a sighting on the setting sun, then headed out toward his bleaching table. He wanted to gather his tools and work. He loved that exercise of his abilities. There was something about making something new that had never been seen before by the eyes of man. It sent excitement climbing up his spine. It was better than being with a woman. Raye found his stash. He smiled at the shading of the bone from the setting sun as it stretched across the flat rock. They seemed perfect for use. He tapped one of the bones with the tip of his finger. A bell note sounded, stretching across the desert. That was almost perfect. He picked up one rack of ribs. Yellow fire rolled from the tip of the tail to the skull. The sparks burned in the sockets for a brief second before they faded away. He repeated the process with the other skeletons. Dust kicked around his work boots as he turned to go back to his cave. Raye had some thoughts about what he would do with the conglomeration. He visualized the animals becoming something better than what they were. It would be nice if he could get a bigger animal. A coyote would add something to his pool. A mountain lion would be even better. Raye had found a burial ground and raided it for his own use. He quickly went through the site. Some of the locals had tried to stop him. He used them for raw material. Raye entered his cave and walked through to his work table. The statues lining the carved walls nodded to him as he passed. He put the skeletons on the table, visualizing what he wanted to make out of them. A gray bird flew into the cave. The statues turned to watch as it passed, multiple limbs of bone tensing to respond to any threat it might represent. Raye looked at the bird as it settled on his work table. "Greetings, Bone Daddy." The bird opened its mouth to issue a voice that didn't resemble anything human. "In three days, a man will arrive in Marlowe, Minnesota. He is carrying an artifact that will allow you to create bones whenever you want." The bird dissolved into a picture of a man. The picture glued itself to the top of Raye's worktable. He gestured his creations closer to take a look. Then he wiped the picture off his space with the edge of his hand. The bone surface repelled the drawing at his urging. Raye worked on his skeletons while he thought. It helped his thinking processes as he figured out what he should do. He wanted a pool of working material. He doubted that anyone would send a messenger for anything but trouble. Raye sat back from his table. He examined his creation. He tapped the little beast. It came to life under his touch. It turned on its six legs and growled in a lion's voice. It skittered off the table. Raye sat back in the high back chair he favored. He had lived in the Southwest for a long time. Where the heck was Minnesota? He weighed pros and cons before deciding to go. He didn't have anything to keep him at home at the moment. Maybe he could collect more skeletons to use on the way there. Raye stood up. He gestured for his minions to gather around. Orders lit up their eye sockets. One handed him a jacket, hat, and carrying bag. If he found anything he could use, he could put a piece in the bag to call the rest to him when he needed it. "We'll stop at the gas station." Raye climbed on the back of an eight legged horse made of lizards and snakes. "I'll need to get directions." Raye waved for his troops to move out. Beasts never before seen by human eye made of skeletons bounded, crawled, slithered, and flew into the night. Some of the creatures knew where they wanted to go. They broke off from the menagerie and vanished into the night. Raye shook his head. He leaned back to enjoy the ride. Once he reached the gas station, he could figure the shortest way to Minnesota next with the help of a map. His minions would key on him once he reached his destination. His stallion could cross any terrain in his way at a fast clip. And since it was tireless, it could run through the night without having to rest. Raye waited patiently for the lights of the gas station to appear. He had seen it numerous times but had never set foot inside before that night. He tried to remember what it was like to talk to anybody but himself. He had been in the desert a long time. He spotted a glimmer in the distance. Then a little square box appeared in white with green stripes. Two canopies spread like wings to either side of the box center. He spotted the attendant smoking beside the door. He doubted the man could see him in the darkness behind the light from the canopy light. Raye smiled. The clerk was in for a surprise when his bony creation carried him into the light for the first time.

Re: Gaming with Strangers Thanks guys. I will have rep for all of you at the end. CES

Re: Gaming with Strangers 3 Ken Furlong checked the graves as he walked through the cemetery. There had to be something he could use among the rectangular plots that lined the grassy lanes. Furlong heard voices ahead. He paused. He wondered who could be in a cemetery at night other than someone like him. He looked up at the New York City skyline with bilious eyes. He supposed it was kids sneaking out from under their parents' watchful eyes. He hoped they enjoyed their freedom. Furlong pulled his wide brimmed hat down over his lined brow. He straightened his coat with the ivory buttons as he walked toward the sounds he had heard. He smiled with gleaming teeth as he thought about the fun ahead. A band of kids drank beer from a twenty-four pack and passed around blunts made from White Owl cigars. A boom box on a tombstone blasted out metal from a group Furlong didn't recognize. The teenagers didn't notice the skinny man in his dark purple coat and skull pendant as he stood outside the glow from an electric lantern. Furlong raised his long fingered hands like a conductor. Light wrapped around the appendages. The ground glowed where the remains of people long gone had been put to rest. He waited for the effect of his call to show itself. The grass split apart. Hands with various degrees of flesh burst from the wounds. Furlong laughed as his soldiers pulled themselves from the ground. The kids saw what was happening and ran for their cars. Furlong laughed more as the moving corpses gave chase. One of the two cars hit a tree trying to run from the graveyard. The other didn't stop to help their friends. One of the ambulatory dead smashed the radio against the tombstone of its recent neighbor. The music died when the plastic box bounced from the granite. Furlong walked towards the crashed car. His zombies gathered in a circle around the wreck. Maybe there was something there he could turn to his own purposes. The mojo didn't care from where he took it. He preferred the quiet dead to the screaming living so he could think while he performed his gathering ritual. Still taking it fresh from a terrified subject made the taste sweeter and left a touch of exotic places to his mind's eyes. Furlong checked the occupants of the car. The driver rested against the steering wheel. He breathed in shallow gasps like a fish out of water. The passenger in the front had cracked her head on the dashboard from the looks of things. The two boys in the back stared at him in fear. Furlong gestured and his minions gathered the prisoners from the car. He didn't worry about how they struggled. The dead people didn't feel pain and held strength enough to deal with any boy no matter how strong he was. "Bring them over to that tomb over there." Furlong pointed at the cube sticking out of the ground. "What do you want?" One of the boys shouted as he struggled in the grip of cold hands. "Never you mind about that." Furlong waited by the tomb. "This is my place and I don't like people messing with it." "We'll leave." The other boy looked at the ground. "We'll never come back." "I know you wouldn't." Furlong pulled out a knife from under his coat. "I'm just making sure." A bird the shape of a pigeon settled on the tomb beside Furlong. It stared up at him. He knew it was a construct. It looked more like a black and white picture of a bird than the real thing. "Listen, Mojo Bones." The voice sounded familiar to Furlong. He put that aside. "A man will arrive in Marlowe, Minnesota in three days. He will be carrying an artifact that will allow you to harness the power of the dead in any way you want." The bird flattened into a drawing on the top of the tomb. Weary eyes examined Furlong from the stone. He looked at the face and thought quietly. He had plenty of time if he wanted to pursue this mysterious information. A simple plane ride from JFK would get him to Minnesota in a few hours. If he wanted, he could drive there in two days if he decided to push himself. The validity of the information didn't ring true. It had the smell of a set up. Should he take the bait? Many of the magicians he had crossed usually didn't bother with such schemes. If they wanted something you had, they simply tried to take it. This was even more true of do-gooders like Jack Dragon. Furlong decided that he wanted to know what was behind the summons, trap or not. His curiosity demanded some kind of satisfaction from the magician who had sent the message. He just needed to take the time to prepare for the struggle. His gaze turned to his four victims. That also meant he would have to gain some more mojo to spread around. Once he was done with that he could gather his troops for the coming action. He raised the knife and got started.

Re: Gaming with Strangers 2 Cary Drake watched the crowd swirl around him as he sipped his drink from a glass. He stood at the back of the long room. Shadows cast by swirling lights cloaked him in darkness. He would have to recharge off one of these dancing fools before the night was over. He just had to pick one. Drake finished his drink. He wiped the glass and set it down on a railing. Someone would see it and take it back to the kitchen. He just didn't want to leave any fingerprints to tie him to the scene. Someone had picked up his trail of bodies. Drake didn't know his pursuer, but felt that remaining at full charge as much as possible should give him an edge. Drake picked out his meal and sauntered toward the dance floor. He acted like any other guy on the make, moving in on a woman in matching tube top and short skirt. He noted that she seemed to be alone in the crowd. Drake danced closer, focusing his attention on his victim. He didn't want to attract attention in the middle of the crowd unless he had no choice. Blending in made it harder for his enemies to track him down. Drake gestured with a finger. A tiny spark dropped on the young woman, turning her eyes to vacant brown pools. He took her hand. A tug and she followed him towards the men's room. Drake pushed the door open. He checked for witnesses. The tiled room stood empty. He pulled his dinner into the room. Red crystal from his free hand locked the room up so he could keep his privacy. Drake grabbed the woman's head. She struggled weakly in his grip. The charm seemed to be failing. His hands glowed like fire. Blood rushed from her eyes. The liquid vanished in the air. A single drop fell to the floor at their feet. Drake took the shriveled corpse and placed it in a stall. Let the employees find it when they came to clean up for the night. By that time, he would be safely at home, contemplating his next project in peace. No one would even remember what he looked like by that time. Drake removed his barrier with a flick of his hand. The crystal shattered in fragments that burned away. The police would gain nothing from that. Another magician might be able to track him down from the display. He wasn't afraid of that. Very few dared to challenge him to duels. Drake made his way through the crowd. The front door had two guards but they didn't pay any attention to his average looks, and disguising party clothes. They were on the look out for anyone who had drank too much and decided he could do anything he wanted. Someone leaving on his own two feet meant nothing to the muscular sentries. Drake stepped outside. He took in the fresh air and turned left. He didn't possess a car so public transport served to carry him around the city when he didn't want to attract attention. And sometimes he could pick up more blood on a train if no one else was around. Many a would-be mugger had found that out. A bird settled in front of Drake. He looked at the strange beast, then up and down the street. No one else was around. "Greetings, Bloodstone." The voice seemed to cut itself in the air. The gray on gray bird stared at Drake, mouth open. "In three days, a certain individual will be in Marlowe, Minnesota. He is carrying an artifact that will allow you to dispense with draining blood to work your magic. I know that you have struggled with this limitation for many years. Good luck." The bird melted into the sidewalk. A portrait stared up at Drake. He looked around to see if anyone else had seen the apparition. He was still alone. Drake committed the picture to memory. He wondered what the secret plot could be. He had struggled with his craving for blood. He had experimented with becoming more powerful without it. Nothing had worked so far. This could be what he needed to free himself to walking on a higher plateau. He should take the chance and look into the chance of removing his bonds. He would just have to be careful about whatever betrayal was waiting for him.

1 They met on the porch of a shack nestled in maple trees. The sinking sun glittered off a small lake to the west of the cabin. Wooden chairs sat on the porch's wooden planks. They had been painted blue with white stars on the head rests. The owner of the refuge grimaced at his visitors. "I thought we talked about this, Tribolyte." The speaker's keen blue eyes glared at his two visitors. "You are supposed to be leaving me alone." "I have another wager for you, Hermit." The voice etched itself on the air in precise strokes. "I feel it is worthy of your consideration." The Hermit rubbed his square chin. His blond beard felt stiff and wiry to his fingers. He had retreated from the world for many years. He had asked Tribolyte and his silent companion to leave him alone after the last time they had crossed paths. Now here they were with another wager they thought would provoke him to action. He should stick to his zero intervention policy regardless of what the furry monster expected. The world was getting along fine without him. "State what you want in plain language." The Hermit made a go ahead gesture. If it was two grandiose a thing, he could reject it without prejudice. "Mr. Cook?" Tribolyte's burning eyes seemed to smile through the fur that made up his football shaped body. Dr. Long had not been merciful to him. The plain assistant raised the hand that was not carrying Tribolyte on a tray. Lines erupted from his callused palm. They turned themselves into a portrait of a man so lifelike it almost seemed to breath as it hung in the air. Blood dripped from Mr. Cook's hand. "The Duster." The Hermit shook his head. "Didn't you learn anything from the last time?" "No need to worry." Tribolyte shook a little on his tray. "That's the nature of the bet. I won't be involved. Third parties will do everything." "What are the stakes?" The Hermit liked this less and less as he thought about it. This could only end badly for everyone involved. "I wish to return to a more human form with my abilities intact." The fire from the spots on Tribolyte's non-existent face burned brighter. "Mr. Cook would like his freedom from my service." "That sounds like an awful lot." The Hermit rubbed his chin again. "There's not anything the two of you can give me. I don't see why I should take this wager at all." "Because it's a challenge, Spangler." Trybolyte's words were daggers in the air. "A proxy fight is something you have never been able to do well. You've always got your hands dirty. That's why you ran away up here instead of trying to pursue your goals in civilization." The furball sneezed. "You've lost your stomach for the hunt." The Hermit glared at his visitor. The sound of thousands of pages turning filled the air as his anger threatened to burn everything around him. He closed his eyes, and let the flipping of paper die away before he spoke. "You still don't have anything I want." The Hermit tapped the wood of his porch roof support with a knuckle. "Oh, but I do." The voice of the Death Tribble was all cat purring now. "I have something that I won off a person who didn't know what he had. I will gladly put it up for its sentimental value to you." Mr. Cook's hand bled another picture in the air. "You're on." The Hermit nodded his head. "It will be a pleasure."

Re: Cowboy Bebop/ Firefly inspired game If the moving to the setting is not important to the current adventure/campaign, just handwave it like Firefly and Bebop. Humanity has settled in this system of planets after a slow expansion from the core. Ships in Firefly would still have to be fast even to cover planetary distances, and bebop used gates that accellerated a ship like a railgun. Boarding with hand to hand is common sense thing to do, but I think most ships that could handle space dust would be able to stop a bullet in the hull with exception of internal mechanisms. CES

Re: Cowboy Bebop/ Firefly inspired game Is colonization that important? Does it matter to whatever adventure you are setting up, or is it backstory? CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... Nothing to lose by Lee Child. CES

Re: What Have You Watched Recently? Actually there is no day ever from what the characters say in the movie. The doctor specifically states that the Strangers can't stand daylight and keep the city from ever facing the sun. The memory reprogramming makes everyone think there is a day and night when there never is which is brought out in the interview at the police station. Everyone is programmed to remember daylight as part of living on a real planet, but no one ever sees it. CES

Re: What Have You Watched Recently? It was on TV so I believe an edited theatrical version. CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... In the stormy red sky by David Drake: Admiral Leary breaks a blockade by stealing the enemy ships while escorting a politician in disgrace. The good guy by Dean Koontz: brick mason and writer versus killer for a government conspiracy. CES

Re: What Have You Watched Recently? Dark City. People have been kidnapped, erased, and are given new memories every night. Things go wrong for the kidnappers when John Murdock learns to use their machines against them. The scene where the city is turned toward the sun for the first time stands out from the blackness of the rest of the movie. CES

Re: Cowboy Bebop/ Firefly inspired game Firefly was based off a book about the end of the Civil War in America. Bebop always struck me more of a detective/noir novel Choice of antagonists should depend on what the players come up with. I don't see why that's a problem since both Spike and Jet had prosthetics and one of the their enemies was a six million dollar man. Mal and Jet both owned their ships with the sidekicks/crew using personal craft. That should be up to the players. Depending on what the crew build, that should make things easier to design as far as setting goes. I wouldn't worry too much about building a star system until you know who is playing what. CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... Don't get me wrong I liked the book, and it was cool to see the old wizards schooling the kids, I was just thinking a three way battle to the death is not my idea of a good plan, desperate or not. CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... Read Turncoat by Butcher. I enjoyed it but thought surely there has to be a better way to detect a murderer than setting up a free for all and seeing what happens. Found a new book by Roger Zelazny. I'll let you know how it goes. CES