You Bastard and George Melons - Great Alluvial Sand Wastes, Athas
The thrill of lycanthropy ran through George Melons's brain like a giant spider through the Medbay. Slavering madly, George did the one thing that came to his suddenly rather hairy brain: dig.
Flailing wildly into the soft humours of the eye in front of him, George began burrowing through You Bastard's massive eye sockets, sending You Bastard into an even wilder fit of panic. You Bastard ceased attempting to scrape George out entirely, and instead began wildly heaving its bulk around.
You Bastard's frenzied rutting accomplished two things: one, it got a prodigious amount of sand in You Bastard's ruined eye socket; two, it kicked a prodigious amount of sand up into the air, creating a miniature sandstorm. Shazay, understanding the dangers of being blinded by sand next to a rampaging school bus, opted to keep his distance until the sandstorm abated.
Through the impenetrable shield of the sandstorm, Shazay and Frederick could see nothing. You Bastard's pained groans grew weak and petered out, and gradually the cloud of sand settled down. All that was left was You Bastard's corpse, covered in sand and blood.
Deep inside You Bastard's cranium, George Melons came to a realization: there is
nothing worthwhile here. Huffing dejectedly, George Melons began burrowing back the way he came.
Very slowly, very carefully, Shazay closed in on You Bastard's corpse. When at last it seemed his mutilated corpse wasn't going to rise up again, Shazay stepped out of Dusty and approached it.
With an unpleasant squelching noise, George Melons emerged from You Bastard's
other noise. As much as he would like to say it, George Melons did not make a joke about taking a wrong turn at Albuquerque. He leaped down from his perch atop You Bastard and shook himself clean, staining the sand a deep, malevolent crimson.
Shazay was speechless. To attempt to put what he was currently thinking into words would be a herculean task. Instead, he gave a single command to both Frederick and George.
"Help me set up these teleporters. Gotta get big boy here back home."
He tossed one boxy gewgaw each over to Frederick and George, and pointed to a pair of locations on either side of You Bastard. Dutifully, Frederick and George buried their gewgaws where Shazay had pointed, and returned to him. With the press of a button, You Bastard disappeared in a flash of light and sound, whipping up another sandstorm that quickly abated.
Shazay breathed a sigh of relief.
The easy part was over."Aight. Go on and get back in the car, we've got one more job to go 'fore we're done."
George let loose a guttural growl that, while saying nothing, very clearly demonstrated indignation. Shazay pointed a warning finger at George, and continued.
"Don't you start bitching now, Shocker+ does shit by the planet. We're just deliverin' a throne to some city. I ain't got much info, but this The Throne thing sounds important, and this city is apparently well-defended. Now get your asses back in the truck, and we'll get this over and done with."
Julius Aldo and Jack Morgan - Ghost Ship, Antagarich
Ghastly howling filled the deck of the ghost ship as all four groups of vengeful ghosts rushed at Julius and Jack.
Julius, always a man for theatric bravery, charged the ghosts with an evil gleam in his eye. Just as he made contact with his ethereal foe, he was thrown backwards by a rush of frigid air and sent sprawling. The ghosts, showing no unwillingness to attack an incapacitated target, quickly surrounded him. Howling incomprehensible, the mob of ghosts tore viciously at Julius's armor. Wherever they struck, their ragged claws left lines of frost.
Jack, who was of a less fearless persuasion, reacted appropriately. In a clear panic, Jack fired blindly at the octet of marauding ghosts, striking one. The stricken ghost immediately vanished with a shrill howl and a cloud of foul sulphur gas.
Julius drew his own sidearm, and fired blindly into the crowd surrounding him, banishing two of his assailants. It was clear to these ghosts that these victims would be far too dangerous to take on. The ghosts, demonstrating some form of low cunning, fled to the belowdecks.
Jack opened his eyes, and saw that the main deck was clear. Moving with urgency, he hoisted Julius back up on his feet, and handed him his rifle. Julius smiled wearily, and gave Jack a friendly pat on the back.
"Should teach you to talk about ghosts, huh?" said Julius, finding his balance.
Jack gave him an annoyed look, and looked to the forecastle.
"They were whispering about the foc'sle. Bet you what they were guarding is up there."
The forecastle itself was unusually cluttered. Tools and weapons scattered the floor, and the ship's railing was in splinters. It looked as if it had been picked clean in a hurry. The only moderately-intact point of interest on the deck was a large ornate wooden chest, leafed with gold and rubies. With a telling gleam in his eye, Jack plundered the chest, and held its contents out for all to see.
It was a pair of boots, with a miniscule human skull placed between them. Though neither Jack nor Julius knew it, these were the Dead Man's Boots, a powerful Artifact. They wouldn't be at all useful for either of them, since it wasn't the Pendant of Death. Jack stared at the Boots concernedly. Why would someone go through the trouble to put a pair of
boots in such an ornate chest? It just didn't make sense. Still, treasure was treasure, and Jack wasn't one to refuse it.
Whistling confidently, Jack Morgan and Julius Aldo worked their way back to the main deck, and climbed back into the Hunter-Chopper.
Thrumming rhythmically, the Hunter-Chopper pounded off in search of further landmarks. What else would they discover this day?
