The Zhanaarkan Dead

Just as she finishes speaking, the Troll unleashes a torrent of machine gun fire at the wasp. The bullets arc high, the bright streaks of tracer rounds ripping through the air just above the chopper's rotors. The Troll's bizarrely warped face contorts into a sort of upside-down snarl as it pours bullets into the air, the recoil causing its flabby flesh to ripple around the edges of the bone plates.

That is the last glimpse of the creature before Nalan swings out of view and across the East side of the tower. The building's face is as dilapidated as the rest, covered in black scorches and holes in the masonry. A long cable hangs off the side, hanging from what can only be described as an iron ballista. Movement catches her eye and, upon closer scrutiny, she sees a Raider in the process of folding away the tripod of the sniper rifle on the Northernmost window of the third floor. Just as she notices of it, its head snaps upward, no doubt having heard the thudding beats of the chopper's rotors.

"It's not going to eat me." Serilk grunted through clenched teeth and tusks, as he strode purposefully towards where he'd seen the exit, trying hard to ignore the vision around him. As he strode, he tucked the light source into his belt. Never know when you are going to need a light source again in the next little while... he thought to himself as he replaced the light with a large vicious looking survival knife.

The knife in question would be, to most average humans, almost a sword, but in Serik's massive mitt, it looked just average in size. The blade though was a good 4" thick and almost 18" long, and had a massive spiked hilt that protected Serik's hand. The blade was also jagged on the reverse side of the cutting edge, and had a blooding groove as well. The blade was well looked after and shone slightly in the low light....

There is a moment of relief when the literal light at the end of the tunnel flashes into view, a mere fifty feet from their current local; The relief is short-lived, however, as the world about them shifts once again to that bizaare next. The Doctor takes a moment to glance at his irstwhile companion, but the Troll seems stubbornly set on marching into that black portal. The Doctor, for his own sake, takes a moment to survey the sudden surroundings, the edge of paranoia becomming more of a wide plateau of paranoia; Partially the Cram, partially the mysterious alter-dimensional shift. Nalan's words, written in green text across the lower screen of his monocle, is a welcome distraction; It means they're still physically in the same area.

"Hmm." He taps the micro-bead on his nape, briefly. >>'Nalan, I believe we may be experiencing what amounts to a magical hallucination. At least, I hope thats what it amounts too. We'll be out and able to offer support in a moment; Just keep yourself safe, my dear, and try to keep their heads down for a few more moments.'<<

With a thoughtful frown, Kraft cocks the shotgun; The unfired flechette round popping out, agonizingly slow as it tumbles in the air - at least by a chemically enhanced perspective. Kraft's hand snatches it, then tosses it at the golden throne. . o O (Fifty feet to the real wall...) O o .

As Serik moves towards the other side of the room, he feels suddenly disoriented. It is a moment before he realizes that, rather than running straight, he had ended up turning towards the right. Attempts to correct his course only seem to disorient him further, causing him to travel in completely unexpected directions despite his intent, as if the very space of the room curved and twisted.

As Serik is attempts to navigate the room, Kraft watches the shell he threw bounce off the golden thrown, flying a good eighty feet. The sound of the impact echoes throughout the chamber, a pin drop in a silent cathedral. Looking at Serik moving, it occurs to him that the space in the chamber is less like a Euclidean hemisphere and rather more like a jumbled mass of yarn and paperclips and bits of wire. On the other hand, the can flew straight without any odd deviations of path. Evidently, wherever they are, the laws of Physics and Geometry are taking a holiday.

The whispers intensify as a sliver of darkness detaches from the black portal. It undulates in the air, as if examining the two curiously, its limbs slowly beginning to elongate into wicked claws.

Then the world shifts again, leaving the duo standing in the cave chamber with no trace left of what they have seen. Serik is standing next to the exit, while Kraft has not moved. From the exit, they hear the beating of rotating chopper blades.

Serik blinked as reality returned, to find himself near the exit to the cave, a good 15 meters or more from the Doc, and fully exposed. He quickly jumped to one side of the cave exit and put his melee weapons away. He once again took out his Mossburg and pointed it towards the exit, looking out and around the exit, watching for signs of the Raiders. He glanced back over his shoulder and waved quickly at Doc, then refocussed his attention on the outside. For the moment, he was going to ignore the visions in the caves, in order to deal with the more immediate happenings. Serik glanced upwards towards the sky and the sound of the helo's rotors somewhere outside and above him. While he waited for his partner to join him, he searched the area outside the cave entrance for Raiders, raiders with guns, and especially, the 'troll'....

. o O (Well, that certainly answers that question, while raising twenty more..) O o .

The Doctor's frown only deepens when the flechette case makes it far past the initial estimate of fifty feet, sailing easily over eighty and clinking against the golden throne. The net result was one of two theories: A) The illusion was deeply ingrained and mental, and the two were standing perfectly still and twitching while something twisted about in their brains. B) They really were being displaced into another space entirely. Both thoughts were quite the opposite of comforting. He was, point in face, about to comment said observations when two things make themselves immediately known to the Doctor in a manner most blunt.

One, is that Serik is weaving through a space that represents no known eucledian three-dimensional structure. Kraft could not quite put it into the proper words, but instinctively grasped at the situation with his keen mind. Something about the way Troll's linear path kept twisting aside in a manner that made the eye water and the brain hurt.

Two, something horribly, horribly wrong was enroaching itself into the burning white space with claws and a rumble. With a shout of warning, Kraft turns his gun upwards at the forming claw-

-just to have the entire thing disperse once again. Cycling deep breathes through his lungs, and faintly embarrassed for a reason he couldn't put a finger on, the Doctor hurried after Serik towards the exit; Guns and zombies were a site more manageable than reality twisting beings. The Cave of Mystery could be put on a backburner until later, preferably when the team was armed with high explosives and enough ordinance to drop the cavern on top of its head. If it possessed such.

Looking out the opening, the crumbling remains of the tower looms before them. The bottom floor, from what can be seen through the empty windows, looks completely gutted and empty. Refuse litters the ground, dust blowing over piles of unidentifiable detritus. Above, the beating of helicopter blades is heard.

Erlan was spot-on about the exit, even if he was rather remiss not to mention the man-eating shadows and odd world-shifting. The cave was barely ten meters from the base of the building, which was an enormous thing of brick and burnt mortar. Judging from the light, the two are just Southwest of the tower, which means the central compound is on the other side of the structure. Alternatively, the poor condition of the first floor means that getting inside would be trivially easy, though that will no doubt prove to be the easiest part, given what they have seen of the building's occupants.

The set up the raiders had going with the tower left Nalan baffled. It was obvious they'd made modifications, but as to the point of the changes, she simply could not decipher. But that took second place to the raider with the sniper rifle. The sight made her scowl angrily... she thought she'd already taken their long-range capabilities out, but apparently she had only started to scratch the surface. Hopefully this second sniper would be the end of that effort, but somehow she doubted it.

The minigun spun into readiness, whirring softly... until it belched fire, spewing rounds into the the third floor window. Even if the persistent monster got away, there was a good possibility she could at least ruin his weapon, and render him out of the fight. She decided to call in the sighting. "Don't hurry to provide that support, they've still got a sniper out here, on the east tower. I'm engaging now."

The Raider does not even have time to dodge. The torrent of explosive rounds chews the entire window apart, tearing the raider to pieces. Far below, Serik and Kraft hear the rumbling whine of the autocannon, followed by a staccato of explosions. A column of dust and debris fall into view from above, pieces of masonry thumping against the ground.

Serik waited for Doc to reach his position, as he continued his scan out the cave entrance. As the muffled explosions from above ceased, the big meta made ready to move. "Cover me?" Serik asked the Doc, and then checked his shotgun for readiness once more. Then he moved, efficiently and quickly, to the corner of the tower, a mere 10 meters away, his head swiveling left and right, and also upwards, searching for the enemies. Where his eyes looked the gun followed. Once he reached the building wall, he began moving laterally, clockwise or east around the building, along the wall to the first opening that would accommodate his large frame. Pausing there, he peaked his head into the opening into the building scanning for enemies, danger or traps. The 'troll' was in this building somewhere above, and Serik didn't want to be surprised. If the coast is clear, he'll wave his companion forward, and proceed from there....

As Serik traverses the gap between the cave mouth and the wall, the yawning expanse of the daytime sky opens above him, the sun's searing face bearing down upon the cracked, dusty earth. The tower, which would seem completely unremarkable in a living city, is imposingly massive here, its mutilated faces gazing listlessly upon the scorched landscape.

By the time Serik arrives at the wall, there is no sound to be heard but for the drumming rhythm of beating rotors and the crunching of rocks beneath his feet. Peering into the building, he sees the decayed remains of a lobby. The walls have had long gouges dug into them and there are stains of red and brown on the walls of grey concrete. The reception desk has what looks like an old deck on it, which looks like it has been through hell. On the other side of the room, facing North, is a stairway and what look like a pair of elevator doors.

As he is scanning the room, bit of dust falls from above and lands a few feet from Serik's right ear, leaving a column of drifting motes glinting in the sunlight.

Suddenly, the tranquility is broken by a thundering crash. Nalan reacts just in time to attempt to swerve out of the way as the "troll" hurls itself through a boarded-up window in a cloud of splintered wood, the minigun spraying a cloud of bullets. She feels a number of shots clang against the hull, but nothing seems to be damaged. The troll leaps clear across the entire space between the building and the cliff, landing on the cliffside with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.