NationStates Jolt Archive

Auditorium Number 3, Chiba City University, Chiba City, The Most Glorious Hack

The auditorium was packed with people. The entire center row was filled with young men and women wearing black robes and mortar-board hats with tassels. Some of them had various honorifics attached to their outfits, often in the form of colored ropes around the shoulders, and decrative, colored silk hoods. A few also wore bronze-like medallions about their necks.

The rest of auditorium was full of friends and family members here to watch the graduation cerimonies for the College of Historical Studies. The CHS was actually the second most popular school at the university, following, of course, the College of Computer Sciences. Professor Moran stood at the podium, glancing over the crowd, feeling a little nervous. He hated giving speeches, the larger the crowd the worse it was. He especially hated graduation speeches. Too many people, and they all expected him to be a masterful orator. Ah well, he thought to himself, it's no worse than eldritch horrors from beyond time and space... well, not much worse.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Graduates and guests. I have gotten something of a reputation in my classes as being somewhat long winded," pause for polite laughter, "so I will be brief.

"The School of Archæo / Anthropology combines the two most prominent field-specilizations in this College. By combining the two, we are able to cross train our students so that they are able to be even more efficient when out in the field, and regonize valuable artifacts and hints of ancient evidence, even if they don't have a specialist in the associated field. We have found that this makes our students even more prepared to not only teach, but engage in field work."

Moran smiles softly, glancing over the graduates, "However, everyone who's concerned about such things already knows them, so without further ado, I present to you the graduates from the School of Archæo / Anthropology, starting with Doctorate students..."

For the next twenty or thirty minutes, he slowly worked his way through the doctoral students, then the graduate students, and finally the undergraduate students, each taking considerably longer than the previous. He breathed a distinct sigh of relief as he was able to finally take his seat, and let some other professor start yammering.

Reception Hall, Chiba City University
A couple hours later

The professor leaned against a wall, trying to avoid the majority of the people who crowded around, idly talking, cheering for their sons and daughters, wives and husbands, borthers and sisters. He hated speeches, and didn't much care for social events either, however, he needed to put in an appearance, and so, here he was; putting in an appearance, but hoping to remain largely invisible. At least until he was able to go home and take a few days off. The last few months (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=329346) had been a trip through Hell. Fun, in an odd sense, but Hell none-the-less.

[OOC: Since I hate combining opening IC threads with OOC noise, I'll do it here.

Essentially, this is a spin off of this (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=329346) thread (the one linked above), primarily to involve my character (Prof. Daniel Moran) and Gehenna Tartarus' (Tara Craven) in further adventures, separate, but similar to, those in Shadows. This starting scene will eventually fade away to more jungle goodness, probably involving the search for Tara's father.

While this RP is somewhat open, there are a few... ground rules, if you will. This is strictly modern. While there will be a Lovecraftian bent to it, I don't want any sorcerers, or spacedy stuff or things like that. Also, keep in mind that most of the nations traveled to with be circa 1920's tech levels. Please, no uber characters. I'm pretty open about things, but I want realistic characters involved. If I think things are getting too uber... well... just remember: Cthulhu always wins.

That being said, if you can find a way to work yourself in, and you fit the tone, spirit, and tech level of the setting, feel free to join. Characters can fade in and out and back in again, this isn't going to be strictly controlled.]

((I promise you I'll find some way to weasel my way back in here, along with conceiving some masterful ending with Roania to get you and Gehenna back into the Shadow's thread. You still haven't even met the main villian, you know!))

<< OOC: well, dang...I guess there isn't much chance that Moran takes Tepak back to the University with him, where he learn's English and culture and becomes somewhat Tarzan-esque?? ;-) I thought not.>>

IC:

The young man's smile shone throughout the hall as he reached out a strong hand to receive his diploma from the wizened faculty members. Logan Grey had studied hard for the past 4 years, trying to learn everything he could about archeology, anthropology and ancient theologies. He spent more time in the library with his books than he did in the local pub with his mates, but Logan was a driven young man, intense and secretive in his actions.

His beaming smile was as fake as his name, but the one he wore would serve him well for now. Everything was moving according to his plan, and as long as he continued his patient course, the answers he was searching for would soon become apparant. Now it was time to set the next phase into motion.

Leaving the stage, Logan continued past his chair and out into the hallway. Looking around, he spied the man he'd been looking for. Straightening his tie, Logan walked directly over to him and smiled disarmingly.

"Excuse me, Professor Moran? I'm not sure if you remember me, but I was one of your students for the last 2 semesters...my name is Logan Grey. Anyways, I just wanted to thank-you for all you taught me...it was an honor to learn from you, sir."

Logan tipped his head in respect to the old man, and turned to walk away. He stopped suddenly and turned back to Moran.

"Sir, I don't want to seem to be too forward, but I currently find myself with a lovely diploma, but no solid work to apply it to...is there any chance that you yourself may be mounting an expedition anytime soon?"

The young man knew the Professor was sizing him up, so he stood a little straighter, letting the good doctor see his full stature. Logan had also spent 2 years playing tackle for both the rugby and football teams, and retained the sturdy build of an athlete. His clear, determined eyes stared back at Moran.

Being back at the university was in stark contrast to the time she had spent in the jungle, the things that she had seen had etched themselves into her mind, and hopefully had made her a better person, not only in her field of choice but in her outlook. She had studied hard during her stay here, and had been very impressed with Professor Moran, to the point that she respected him above all of the lecturers that she had been under. And the time she had spent with him during the Temple trip had only strengthened that.

She fiddled for the hundredth time with her mortar, receiving her hundredth tut from her mother. “Tara, leave it.” Mrs Craven reached over and once again straightened the hat on her daughter’s head. She was so proud of her, her determination to follow in her father’s footsteps. “He would have been so proud to have been here with you today.” She barely got to the end of the sentence before her voice grew choked.

“Oh, Mom.” The younger woman placed her hands around her mother, pulling her against her. “He’ll come back. I promise.” The words were softly spoken, but they contained a determined edge. “If I have to search the whole planet for him, he will come back.”

Mrs Craven stepped back from her daughter, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “You are a good girl, Tara. But you cannot live your life chasing shadows.” She caressed the graduates cheek. “You have your own life to lead, your father would not have wanted you to waste it on him.”

Tara smiled. “I know, but I don’t consider it a waste.” She slipped her arm through the crook of her mother’s. “And I will get to really follow in his footsteps and see what he saw.” And bring him home to the people who love him. She continued to smile, but there was a sadness in her eyes.

* * * * *

Having left her mother with an old friend of Professor Craven’s, Tara slowly walked among the other students, stopping to talk to a few, and wishing them luck in their futures, but her eyes were scanning for someone. Flicking back and forth across the crowds, she knew he had to be here somewhere. He had been up on the rostrum a little while ago, and although she knew he didn’t particularly like this kind of thing, she knew he would be honour bound to stay.

Suddenly her eyes fell upon a long figure standing some way from the crowds, if he could, he would probably have disappeared into the scenery. A smile spread over her face, as she pushed herself through the throng, only to emerge the other side to see another student talking to the man she was seeking.

“Damn it!” She stood and watched as the vaguely familiar student conversed with the professor, her eyes flicking around briefly before returning to their vigil on the pair. Her agitation on having to wait was beginning to show as she tap her foot absentmindedly, wondering whether she should go across anyway, but decided to remain where she was for a while.

Moran nodded absentmindedly to the student who's face was barely recognizable. Not that he had anything against undergrads, but he had always been more concerned with his grad students. For instance, he tended to remember their names. "Well... we'll see Mr. Grey. Earning your bachelors' is one thing... expiditions are quite another." Glancing over Logan's shoulder, he noticed a familiar face. He lightly patted Logan on the shoulder, simultaniously pushing him gently to the side, "Now if you'll excuse me, it seems a line is forming."

Stepping past the undergrad before protests could be raised, he walked up to Tara, a slight smile on his face, "Good afternoon... and congratulations." He cleared his throat a little, clearly still uncomfortable in social situations, even with people he'd been through Hell with, "So... any plans post-graduation?" He smiled, "Planning on doing some field-work, or have I scared you off from that?"

The brush-off was quick, clean and impersonal. As the grey-haired professor walked by, Logan turned to stop him and argue his case. As he was about to speak, he noticed the reason the old man had ignored him: Tara Craven.

His eyes burned into hers as he saw the smile on the professors face. Logan turned from the pair and walked briskly down the hall, out of their sight. He moved a little farther down the crowded hallway, then turned back and slowly made his way to a group of chatting students a few feet away from where Moran and the pretty grad student Tara were speaking.

Somehow, Logan had to find a way to get the old man to hire him in some capacity for his next expedition...and there would be another expediton soon, for Moran was not a man to rest long between adventures. Mingling with the group of laughing graduates, Logan engaged in inane conversation with some of them while listening to the conversation going on between the professor and Tara.

Watching as Moran excused himself in his usual manner from the other student, Tara smiled as he approached, her eyes sparkling. She present her hand to him and shook his, before she suddenly grabbed him in a hug, before looking a little sheepish as she stepped back. “Sorry, Professor, but anything else seemed inadequate for what you’ve done for me.” She had the decency to blush slightly. “Not only getting me through to graduation, with flying colours.” She lowered her voice. “And for saving my life.”

She let her eyes wander around the crowd a bit, finding them lingering on the student Moran had been talking to, the look he was giving her made her feel uncomfortable. “As for my plans…” She gave the question a little thought. “You didn’t scare me off Professor, in fact, I think you made me a better, stronger person.” Finally she let her gaze meet Moran’s. “And I’ve even decided to take shooting lessons, just in case.”

“I hope to hit the field shortly.” She smiled, and once again lifted her hand to her mortar, this time removing it completely, and shaking her dark blonde hair, letting it fall loosely about her shoulders. “Of course, finding a grant isn’t the easiest of things, but I’m hoping to find someone to fund me.”

Once again her eyes fell upon the student, and although he was talking to a group of people, she felt ill at ease with his attention. “An adoring student of yours, Professor?” Laughing she drew her eyes, back to Moran’s. “And I thought I was the only one.”

Suddenly she came over all serious, forgetting everything else that was happening around her. “Actually, Professor, I was hoping for some advice. I know you are an expert in your field, both academically and actively.” Her eyes clouded over slightly. “What would be the chances of following someone’s expedition, when all you know is the basic starting point of their journey?”

Moran blinked at the hug, but returned it anyway, considering their history it was entirely understanable. And, since she wasn't his student anymore, the impropriety issues anyway. He smiled weakly, "Well, I suppose you have a point there, Tara." He smiles warmly at her, "And the life saving was equal there. Had you not been there, I never would have finished the dismissal." He smirks, "No, don't argue, you know it's true."

He followed her gaze over to Logan, who seemed to be hovering just close enough that he might be able to overhear. Chosing his words carefully, he continued, "I teach a few undergrad courses. The dean doesn't want us to forget the basics." He grins slightly, "And, of course, there's more to academics than just tramping through the forest." He laughs slightly, running his fingers through his white hair, "Besides, temple hunting can be bad for your health."

At her final question, his face turned distinctly more serious, mulling it over. "Are you going where I think you are with this, Tara? That was a couple years ago, the trail is likely quite cold by now..." He stroked his chin, pondering, "However... while difficult, not impossible... is this what you're wanting the grant for?"

Some Other Nation...

Sui Daeng went around the little room that was his temple, dusting the idols of his faith; the Jade Flute Players and Kihanu the Screaming One, Aisu the Burning One, Sarinat World-Crafter, Juaki Cloudlady, Tenat the Reaper.

The smaller, lesser gods of the Second World were here too; Nahi the Lady of the Rivers, Seketu the Dancer in the Mountains, the Seven Good Sisters, Kuoso of the Myriad Eyes.

There were a few offerings before Nahi's image; unsuprising, given the connection the natives had grafted between their own heathen fertility deities and Rei-Sareng's. The gods of the First World - the most powerful, the most fearful - still recieved few offerings from the natives. While that continued - Sui suspected their sacrifices in the jungle also continued, albeit more discreetly - they would have little hope of escaping the blackened ruin of the First World after death, of their ka returning to the Second World.

Never mind whatever old man Mjunte, the sort-of-spokesman of the village's remaining heathens, might say regarding ghosts and demons and Sarinat alone knew what other depravities, Sui knew that the ka could return to the Second World after the ña had fled and the gross matter of one's body had grown cold. He'd done it himself, after all, retaining both ka and ña through the blackness of the First World and up into the light of the Second.

Never mind whatever the doctors might have said about near-death experiences due to VR overload, Sui knew what he knew. He wasn't actually brain-damaged, after all, unlike some of his friends back in the days when he'd been a young wirehead, who'd overstimulated the pleasure centers of their brains (and paid the price, when Nahi finished Her illusory role and Tenat came to reap what She had sown in their augmented minds).

And what Sui knew, what he had seen in the First World, was Kihanu the Screaming One, wings nearly torn loose from the spear (His own spear, that was, carved from the arm-bones of His Mother) that pinned Him to the ground of the First World. When He broke free of the Jade Flute Players' imprisonment, Kihanu would destroy them and both Worlds, First and Second; that was written in the holy books.

The old priests in Kuitao, of course, were uncomfortable with the news of the impending destruction of the universe, coming as it did from a former good-for-nothing hedonistic wirehead. They'd gotten him through the priestly colleges as soon as possible, and off to this isolated, archaic nation to spread the faith before he could threaten their own positions in the mother country.

After all, Red Jade Lord Teng-hau had said, if the Worlds were to end soon, was it not important to enlighten as many of the Abandoned as one could before the Screaming One broke free?

Sui had hoped, when he'd first seen the streets of this backwards nation, that Lord Teng-hau had been testing him and the truth of his message; at times, he still hoped so. After all, there was not a terabyte connection in the country (he wondered whether there was in fact a kilobyte connection, or any sort of connection at all beyond the shoddily mantained telephone lines. People had connected over telephone lines once upon a time, but that was back in the darkness of the last century). The entire primitive nation was trapped in the last century, in nearly every aspect - the early last century, when vacuum tubes were the Next Big Thing.

Commercialism, however, had made it in easily where development failed, and even in this isolated village there were children wearing T-shirts decorated with the images of the gods Mickey Mouse, Hello Kitty, the Capitalizt Commando.

In some ways, he was still hoping that the Lords were testing him somehow, doing the best he could and sending his reports off to Teng-hau in Kuitao (hoping the Red Jade Lord was even noticing the letters of his furtherest-flung and most insignificant disciple), despite the six years between his arrival here and now.

Still, despite it all, life went on ... for now. Sui had no way of knowing how close to freedom the Screaming One might be (after all, with no evident connections at all, there were certainly no hundred-terabyte connections to repeat the spectacularly stupid stunt which had cast him into the First World the first time), and Kihanu might already be free, might this minute be consuming the Jade Flute Players as They had consumed His brother, might be destroying the First World, might be upon the verge of destroying the Second.

The end of the universe could come at any moment. Sui was sure that when it did, it would come to this dark and backwards nation first - and it was so like the First World in character, the Screaming One wouldn't even know He'd left it until he reached the border.

Suddenly feeling uneasy at Moran’s question, Tara looked away briefly. The vision she saw was of a man, not much older than the Professor as he stood at the foot of a plane that would take him out of her life for a few months as he began another of his expeditions, like he had on many occasions, but this time Professor Robert Craven did not return, and there had been no mention of him for several years.

Managing to told back some tears that had welled in her eyes, with a large gulp, she pulled down the lump that had grown in her throat. “He had some interesting plans, Professor, one’s that I would like to finish for him.” She once again raised her eyes to Moran’s. “And if I can find out what happened to him at the same time, then where is the harm in that?” Playing with her hands, she shifted uneasily. She knew the professor was not a fool, and she hoped that he would not think that he desire to close the story on her father’s disappearance was some whim that she had not thought over ever day.

“He was my reason for coming here, and doing these studies.” She smiled kindly, remembering the times that he had taken her on his knee and described the things he had seen. “He spoke very highly of you. Told me if I wanted to learn anything I was to study under you.” She blushed again slightly, as she complimented her mentor, knowing he disliked such a fuss. “I owe him everything, and this is my gift to him. And to lay my fears to rest, not just for me, but for mother too.”

Moran nodded, touched by Tara's emotion, remembering his own dealings with her father. He smiled warmly as she explained her reasons, nodding slowly, "I see." He looked thoughtful for awhile, weighing the options.

On the one hand, venturing back out into the jungle so soon after his last adventure was not high on his list of things to do. Exploration was all well and good, but fighting hordes of demons and godlings from outside time and space that could shatter one's sanity was considerably less fun. In fact, it downright sucked.

On the other, other hand (the first hand?) he really only taught because it got him funding to go on said expeditions. Also, this was the daughter of an old associate of his. And she was quite compitent in the field, and he didn't just think that because of her flattery. She had performed quite admirably. Also, while finding Prof. Craven was highly unlikely at this point, it would be a fitting tribute to finish his work.

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, leaning in a touch and smiling, "I tell you what, Tara... stop by my office next week. I'll see what I can do." He gave her a half-hearted warning glance, "I can't promise anything, but I'll look into setting something up."

Standing looking at Moran for a moment, a multitude of expressions passed over her features, from stunned to confused to relieved. Not that she had been expecting his aid, she had only come to him for advice, being one of the best in his field. “Professor, I don’t know what to say.” She looked at him, her eyes full of the deepest respect. “Except thank you. Your offer is more than I was expecting.”

She ran her hand through her hair, and smiled, feeling more relieved than she had at the beginning of the meeting. She knew her mother would go mad once she realised Tara’s plans were more than just a passing fancy. “I will come to your office, and will be grateful for anything you can do.”

Looking around the crowd again, she tried to hold in a giggle, the professor really didn’t suit this kind of affair. Her eyes fell once more on the student Moran had been talking to before her, wondering what he was up to, before she brought her gaze back to the older man.

She studied his face, like she had on more than one occasion. During his lectured, she had always sat near the front of the class, interested in what the professor could teach her, and as she watched him deliver his lectures, she wondered what sights he had seen to have whitened his hair prematurely. The thoughts of their time at the Temple popped into her mind, and gave her some insight into the things that he had seen. Suddenly she felt guilty drawing him into her problem.

“And thank you, Professor, for not telling me I was foolish at following this path.” She smiled kindly, her gratitude shining in her eyes. “Even if you think it is.”

Moran laughed a little, "No, it's no more foolish than anything else we do in this occupation. After all, who in their right mind goes slogging through jungles in backwater countries to look at crumbling buildings, or buried bones?" He smiles, "Don't let that talk of the noble endevour, and increasing mankind's knowledge fool you. It's an obsession pure and simple. That's why I actually enjoyed our trek together." He winks, "And I can see by the look in your eyes that you've got it just as bad. If I had refused to help at all, you'd have found a way." He smiles warmly, "And it's not like I'm opposed to helping finish your father's work. Nor would I be against finding him."

He smiled at her again, patting her shoulder a little, "But, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I believe I've used up my supply of sociability, and would very much like to sneak out a back door, go home, and take this bloody tie off."

Nodding her head slowly, Tara laughed lightly. “Yes, Professor, you really are outdoing yourself today. I don’t think I can recall a time where you mingled with so many people.” She presented him with her hand, and shook his again. “Until next week.” As he began to walk away, she called after him. “And thank you again.”

She watched his back as he moved through the crowds until he disappeared from view. Sighing she wondered what would be the best thing for her to do, collect up her mother and whisk them both home, although from what she could see of her parent talking happily to some old acquaintances, she decided that would be her worst choice. She hadn’t seen her mother smiling for a while.

Her heart sank in her chest, as other happy family images swam around her head, each one filling her with happiness and sadness. She started to walk towards her mother, then stopped. She really needed to think about her plans. No matter what happened she would begin his quest, even if it took several more years to pool the finances, but she knew that every second pushed her goal of finding out about her father further and further away, as the path he took grew ever fainter.

She needed a drink. Unlike the professor, she was a sociable creature, having been to more than her fair share of parties and gatherings, but today she was not in the mood. Too much of her future was in the hands of the man who had left only moments ago to share in the joviality of the day. Working her way through the throng, she headed for the refreshments.

As the hint of tears glistened in Tara's eyes, Logan realized for the first time just how beautiful the grad student really was. Of course, Tara Craven was no stranger to him, though she probably didn't know Logan was alive. Everyone had heard the rumors of the "teacher's pet", and other more lewd innuendo. For the first time, he didn't feel resentment towards her...he felt sadness for her obvious pain.

As he listened, he realized that he had indeed found a way to make his plan work. He needed Moran's help at all cost, though he could not tell the old man why. The professor seemed ready to help the girl find her father, and Logan had the means necessary to make a gorgeous woman's dreams come true, as well as accomplish his own mission. Logan smiled to himself, and watched as the professor bid farewell to Tara and walked away.

The young grad student looked around, and began walking towards the open bar. He followed her in, a few steps behind her and some other students. Motioning the bartender over, Logan asked for a scotch, neat, and settled into the leather barstool. Tara stood at the bar about 10 feet away, trying to get the bartenders attention. Catching her eye, Logan reached over to the bartender in an obvious way and tapped him on the shoulder, indicating that he should go and serve the pretty blonde at the end of the bar. As he raised his glass towards her, Logan gave Tara his most disarming smile, the one his last girlfriend referred to as "the deal-sealer".

Having been standing at the bar for a while, Tara just managed to attract the barman’s attention when her eyes fell upon the student that Moran had been talking to. He was staring at her and smiling. Turning her attention back to the man behind the counter, she ordered herself two glasses of vodka, and waits for them to arrive, not once turning to look at the other man, but feeling his gaze on her.

Once the drinks arrived, she picked up the first, and downed it in one. Feeling its burning heat as it travelled down her throat. She placed the glass back on the bar, before picking up the second, and turning towards the student. She sighed slightly, as she moved off into his direction, his face vaguely familiar, they probably had passed in a corridor some time. Although for the life of her she could not understand why he was paying her so much attention.

Drawing near she stopped in front to him for a moment. “Have I grown a second head or do you want something?” She was probably being a bit hard, but it had been a long day and see had more than enough on her mind, than to have to deal with some stalker. She stared at him waiting for his reply.

The young man pretended to be taken aback by her statement. Logan cleared his throat, and looked Tara in the eye.

"Heh, no, I must apologise...I don't want to come off as a creep or anything. Listen, my name is Logan Grey and I'm a student here as well, actually I just finished my undergrad."

Logan paused, waiting to see Tara's reply. She continued to stare at him indifferently, even impatiently. Logan hurried on.

"Well, I DID want to speak to you...I know that after today I may not get the chance to...do you think we could just speak for a few minutes together? Thats all I ask really, a few moments of conversation."

Logan paused again, sipping his scotch but never taking his eyes of off Tara.

"I may be able to help you find your Father."

Tara raised and eyebrow and laughed. She had not meant to, it was not that anything he had said had been overly funny, but it had tickled her just the same. “And just what is it, Logan, that makes you think my father is in need of finding?” It was one thing to listen into others conversations, but to announce it outright took her by surprise. “And what makes you a more obvious choice, if he was missing, than an expert tracker or some such other specialised person?”

She took another sip of her drink, leaving about half they glass left. Tara had always been a private person, didn’t like anyone to know her troubles unless she knew and trusted them, and the professor was one of the few people who fit that bill, especially at the university. She stood staring at Logan waiting for an explanation. She had seen him with Moran, so there was more to this than was at first obvious.

When she laughed, Logan knew he had the opening he was looking for. Forcing a blush on to his cheeks, he indicated the barstool next to him, motioning for Tara to sit.

"First off, I'll never claim to be better than any field experts, not yet anyways..and that's part of why I wanted to speak with you."

Logan caught the bartenders eye, and motioned for a refill for himself and Tara.

"Look, let's not waste each others time: while I was waiting to try and speak with Prof.Moran, I overheard a part of your conversation regarding your missing dad, and it came to me that perhaps my needs coincided with yours."

He took a long draw from his glass. He wished he had a cigar right now, but hesitated to light one for fear of upsetting the fragile peace between himself and the pretty grad student. Logan took a deep breath.

"I'll be honest with you: all I want is to be part of an expedition, ANY expedition with Prof.Moran, for completely selfish reasons. I want to experience the reality behind the words and theories I've been learning for the last few years, and having experience as a member of Moran's team in the field, is something I need for my resume...I plan to continue my studies abroad eventually, and field experience is mandatory."

Logan paused to see if his words were having any effect. Tara sipped her drink, a neutral expression her only comment. Logan soldiered on...

"I already asked Moran for a chance, but he seemed...noncommital. When I overheard that he may be interested in helping you search for your father, I realized I could help myself, and you in the process. You see...I have the means to finance the whole expedition."

The young man smiled, and wished desperately for a cigar.

Tara looked at the drink for a moment, and took it, sipping it slowly, her head was already starting to feel a little light following the two drinks already on an empty stomach. “Logan, I’m not after charity. Professor Moran is already looking into getting funding for this trip, and although my father is an important part of my reasons for going, I’m not sure I like the idea of you using him to further your career.” She took another long sip, and instantly wished she had not.

“If you are good enough to come along, the professor will accept your proposal, without you paying your way.” She smiled for a moment, not sure why, but she felt it had something to do with the alcohol. “I’m meeting him next week. You are free to meet us here then.” Placing the glass back on the bar, she began to play with the tassel on her mortar. “And just in case he is unsuccessful, not that I imagine anyone would turn down Professor Moran, bring your cheque book with you.”

Feeling pleasantly surprised that Tara had not dismissed him outright, Logan continued to try and sell his idea...but he was up against a tough customer in Tara Craven.

"Ms. Craven, please don't misunderstand me: this is NOT charity and in fact, I would be doing this for somewhat selfish reasons. Yes, my intentions are seemingly not the most noble, but helping you will help balance my karmic scale, so to speak."

Logan smiled again at her, and was warmed to see a slight smile in return.

"Lets not kid around: grants are tough to get, and come with many restrictions and limitations. What I'm offering is virtually unlimited funding, with no red-tape and no questions asked. The best equipment, the best people, stream-lined planning and logistics...and you can have the cheque NOW."

He waited as the impact of his offer seeped in. There was the beginning of a rosy glow in Tara's cheeks, and she continued to drink her vodka steadily. She was quite unlike most of the women Logan had frequented recently...Tara was harder, stronger and more...secure. She was also sensitive, and driven by passions, passion for her work and for her family. The fact that she had a unique beauty about her also seperated her from the younger crowd he was used to. Logan came to the sudden realization that he found himself very much enraptured with the blonde grad student.

"I would like the opportunity to convince you, if I haven't already...and I'm starved. Can we discuss this some more over dinner?"

Tara looked at the man before her and smiled, then slowly released a sigh. “Logan, please don’t make me repeat myself. If you want to come along on this trip, you will be here in a week to meet with me and Professor Moran, who will arrange everything.” She sighed heavily. “Even if it’s just to accept your cheque and hire the best people he knows.” Refusing the seat he offered, she placed her mortar lopsidedly on her head. “Never underestimate the Professor.”

She gave him one more smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to catch up with my mother, and see her safely home.” Although at this moment she was sure her mother would have to make sure she got home in one piece. “I’ll see you in a week…or not. The choice is yours.” With little more to say, she worked her way through the crowd and found her mother. In her heart, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was on her way.

As she made her way through the crowd, Logan watched her weave gracefully in and out of the throngs of happy students and happier parents. He chided himself gently, fearing that he might have come on too strong, and pushed too hard. Tara had invited him to come back in a week, and he knew that he would return.

He had a week to get the gears in motion, and prepare for what was to come. When next he met with Moran and Tara, he would not only have his chequebook in hand, he would also have everything in place so that the expedition could be mounted quickly. Logan finished his drink and looked for a pay phone. Spying one close by, he went to it and placed a call.

"Billings? Its me. I need you to grab the green folder on my desk, and implement the Phase Two inventory planning. Prepare everything, and have it ready for my word."

Logan pulled out a slim cigar case, and withdrew a small cheroot. He lit it, and drew the bitter-smelling smoke deep into his lungs.

"I also want you to call our friend in the Dean's office, and make sure any grant applications from Professor Moran or Tara Craven are conveniently...mis-placed. Then get Davis and Steen to dig up everything they can on Tara Craven and her father."

The young man took another pull of his cigar, letting the smoke trickle from his nose. He smiled at the memory of his encounter with Tara, and spoke to his assistant:

"One last thing: send a dozen roses to Ms.Craven's residence...I want the note to say "Seize the day". Oh, and don't wait up for me tonight Billings, I won't be home until much later..."

...or not at all, if things went well. The lovely young redhead at the bar who was smiling at him was a sign that indeed, things would go very well...

Professor Daniel Moran left the reception, making his way back to his apartment. Actual houses were a rarity, especially in the city limits. There was precious little space, and they were fantastically expensive. Houses were expensive enough in metropolises of five or six million; they cost more than third world countries in a megalopolis of close to two billion. While Moran was well paid between endorcements, teaching, and expeditions, he certainly didn't make enough for a house. On the other hand, he did have a nice three-bedroom apartment on the 20th floor.

Pouring himself a snifter of brandy, he made his way to his study, powering up his computer, and sitting down in his chair, all but ripping off his tie and tossing it aside. Quickly pulling up the information he needed, he set about securing a grant or two. He flet bad for Tara, and wanted to help her. This seemed the best way to go about doing so.

Getting a grant for a research project works much differently in a capitalizt nation than in most others. The government wasn't really in the business of handing out money. It didn't really have any money to hand out, especially since income tax had been banned for a good 80 years or so. While he filed a request with the government and the university, he didn't really put much effort into it. In all his years of doing this sort of thing, he'd never gotten a grant from the government or the school.

Corporations, on the other hand, was where the money was to be found. He spent a great deal more time on these applications, going into intricate detail, and signing away all sorts of rights in the process. Corporate sponsorship was a double-edged sword. You got money, but they always wanted something from you in return. Still, if you went to the right people, it wasn't so bad, and was often a very good thing. Of course, if you failed, they'd go after your next of kin; something that never bothered Moran: he had none. Well, there was his ex-wife, but she didn't count, and if they wanted to soak her, that was just fine.

He only had time to send off one application before going to bed, but it was his favorite corporation to seek funds for, and they seemed to rather enjoy giving them to him. Chaosium Publications was a company that tended to publish fiction, but they also had a wing that did non-fiction, usually of a historical or mythological theme. Since his expeditions tended to fit both the non-fiction categories, and their particular "idiom" for fiction, they were always willing to give him money provided he'd give them a book. If his adventures were normal, they went to the non-fiction house. If they were too unnatural (like his last one), they went to the fiction house, and were published under a pen name.

He smiled as he powered down the computer and went to bed, "Yup... nothing like getting grant money, and then getting royalties fulilling the stipulations..."

Tara and Mrs Craven headed back to the parking lot, both wishing to be free of the hustle and bustle of the proceedings. It was always hard on the older woman, dealing with events that brought her husband to the forefront of her mind, not that she was ever forgot about him. But attending functions and meeting people that Professor Craven would have normally taken part in always seemed to make her sad.

Looking over at her mother, Tara smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in for a coffee first?” She unlocked and pulled open the door, stepping aside as the other woman slipped into the driver’s seat. “It’s quite a way, and I don’t want you to be on your own.”

“Tara, you worry far too much.” Margaret Craven smiled up at her daughter. At the moment feeling the proudest parent on the planet. “You are young. Go out and have fun with your friends, and leave all troubles behind. You have a very full life to lead.” She began to feel choked, and she struggled to finish. “Your father would want you to live your life, and achieve your goals.”

Tara nodded and smiled sadly. “I will. I promise.” She bent down, and ducked her head into her car, kissing her mother’s cheek tenderly. “Have a safe journey, and I’ll be home soon, once I’ve finished a few things here.” Stepping back, she closed the door with a slam, and rested her hand on the roof of the car, as her mother rolled down the window. “I have a few things to discuss with Professor Moran about getting myself started.”

Mrs Moran smiled and waved her hand in a small. “Then I will see you soon.” She turned the key, and started the engine as Tara took several steps backwards. “Send Professor Moran my greetings.”

Tara nodded, and watched as her mother’s car pulled away, her eyes following it until it was little more a speck on the horizon. After standing there for a few moments longer, she made her way into the building and to her room. She was going to miss the university, hoping that she could manage to persuade the Dean to allow her a temporary position, until she got herself settled, although if the professor was successful she would be leaving sooner rather than later.

Finally reaching her room, Tara opened the door and disappeared inside. The interior was superior to the one she had started out in, but then she had been here long enough for the place to become more like a second home than a room.
She walked over to the bed, taking off her mortar, and sat, before reclining until she was lying flat, staring up at the ceiling.

Her mind was already replaying the day, as she tossed her hat over the edge of the bed. Moran had been very understanding about her desire, she knew that he would know exactly what she had planned, but then she would have sort out other advice if he had not. Although she had been expecting more of a reaction from him, hear him calling her a fool, but he had not. If it was possible for her to respect him more than she already did, it would have rose at that point.

She rolled over onto her stomach, her elbows resting on the bed and her chin placed in the cup of her hands, she sighed heavily. As good as the day had been, it did have one bleak spot. Logan Grey. She knew that a few people in the field had heard of her father’s disappearance, but when a student thinks that he can use her loss to further his career…

She groaned softly, annoyed with herself for speaking to Moran in such a public place. Still, her troubles should be alleviated slightly if the professor managed to acquire a grant. Not that she doubted he would. Professor Moran was the best in his field, her father hold told her that more times that she could remember. Still, it was reassuring to know that should anything happen, she could still fall back on a cheque from someone else, even if she had to appear a little interested in him to secure the money.

Rolling back over, she turned onto her side, resting her head on her arm, feeling her eyes slowly slip closed. It had been an early morning, and a long day. And three vodkas helped ease her into a restful sleep.

Logan ended up going home early, and alone. The conversation he had with the redhead at the bar had resulted in him having her drink poured on his crotch. Unfazed, Logan left the campus grounds, and stepped into his waiting limo. A large, dangerous looking man held the door open, tipping his chauffeurs cap as the young man entered the car.

"Evening, young master: did we have ANOTHER accident?" asked the driver, a slight smirk on his face.

"Ha-ha-HA...yer a real comedian, Brick." replied Logan as he settled himself in the plush leather seats.

"That's why I get paid the big bucks, sir." grunted Brick, obviously enjoying his young charges discomfort. Getting behind the wheel of the big car, Brick turned to Logan.

"Where to, sir? Would a visit to Madame Bellini's bordello renew your spirits, or should I just open another barrel of scotch for you?"

"Home Brick," muttered the young man, "just take me home."

*****************************************************

Born the only son to shipping magnate and international businessman Felton Grey II, Logan Grey had spent his early life in childhood bliss, living in the most beautiful homes in the world. He lacked for nothing...the best teachers and the best toys. By the age of 13, Logan was studying at the University level and his tutors found that he was particularly gifted in history and chemistry. He also had his 2nd Black Belt by the time he hit puberty. The only thing lacking in his life was what every young boy needed...the strong presence of his Father.

When the senior Grey died suddenly abroad, Logan was left as the sole heir to the immense Grey fortune. He spent a few years travelling throughout the world, spending time tasting different cultures and religions. Every time the grief threatened to overwhelm him, Logan would pack his bag and go somewhere new. After returning from one such trip, Logan found himself alone in the mansion that had been his main childhood home. He roamed the hallways, staring at the paintings of the different Grey patriarchs. Stopping in fronnt of his father's private study, Logan realized that he had NEVER entered this room...Father would not allow it. With a slight feeling of guilt, Logan opened the door to the study and entered.

What he found there that day changed the course of his life, and brought him to where he was today. What he found was a strange, ornate amulet. What he found was parchment with illegible heiroglyphics on it, written in blood. What he found was proof that his father had been killed, outright murdered, under suspicious circumstances. What he found was a name.

Moran.

Al Arish was, for all intents and purposes, just another like any other poor run down city on this continent. Most of the housing was old, built out of adobe or similar basic materials. Almost everyone was poor, and here they made ends meet working either at the fish processing plant down on the waterfront or fishing in whatever rickety boat they'd managed to cobble together. Life was... hard.

But not everyone in this bustling port town had it so bad. On the large hill that dominated the western portion of town, the wealthy who owned basicly everything else made their residence. Landowners, factory managers and the like lived here, upwind of the processing plant. It was a mark of status to even work in the up-town market, selling things to the rich folk. Few were ever able to move up here, but those that did considered themselve to have "made it."

And it was in a paticularly nice home, overlooking the harbour, that the forty-six year old retired archaeologist and treasure hunter Haefaustus Kakaletris resided. He had retired to the upscale part of the city after he and his crew came here for repairs, and Haef decided that after his ship, the Rynn's Glory was repaired, he'd retire and let his crew go. This was three years ago. Most of the younger ones had moved on and left town, but his mate from the old country, old Pallas Ioannou, still lived nearby and came for dinner every now and then. Both had made a small fortune exploiting ancient treasures selling them to the highest bidder and whatnot, and had retired happily, glad to have gotten out alive.

Haefaustus himself was fairly unremarkable, being neither very tall or heavy, and being fair of face but nothing special. He had the curly black hair of the majority of Altairnians, and had the tanned olive skin as well, worn rough by his thirty years at sea. And like most of his people, he wore his emotions on his sleeve; if he was pleased, you knew it; and equally so if he was angered. And right about now he was enjoying a bath with his mistress when the phone rang, as if only to irritate him.

"Fah," he cursed, mostly to himself but also to his twenty-something year old mistress, a lovely local girl who was probably only with him because of his money. "They can leave a message if it's so damn important."

"Well, sunuvabitch," Moran muttered as he heard the answering machine click on, a somewhat banal message greeting him before the omni-present beep. Amazing how some technology never seemed to improve, no matter how old it was. The base and form might change; the size certainly would, but there was always that damn beep. "Ah, yes. This is Professor Moran from the Hack, trying to get ahold of Hae... er, Haefautus Kakaletris? I hope I'm pronouncing that right... Ahem. Anyway, I'm an old associate of Professor Craven, and I'm going to be taking part in an expidition in your area. I was hoping you could provide transportation, and maybe act as a guide. You can reach me at $Phone-number, and I will be arriving near Al Arish on $Date at $Time. I hope you can help. Thank you."

He hung up the phone, moving on to more important tasks, like packing. Mythos Publications and one of the local VR movie companies had agreed to provide funding. At first there was concern of overlap, but since VR-View didn't do books, and Mythos didn't to VR movies, the lawyers decided to not bother, as they both wanted the rights more than they wanted a drawn out court battle.

Professor Moran's Office, Chiba City University, Chiba City, The Hack
A week after graduation

Moran relaxed in his office, a fresh cup of steaming coffee sitting on the desk in front of him, doctored with a splash of brandy. He was perusing his class lists, waiting for Tara to arrive so that he could give her the good news. The expedition was shaping up nicely. He even had received enough funding to take another student along with him if he wanted. The positive side of his psyche figured it'd be a good learning experience for the student. The negative side figured they'd be another target if things went Very, Very Bad.

The sun slowly broke through the morning dew, kissing the edges of the Chiba City Auditorium and reflecting a panolpy of colors across the windows of the small cafe where Logan Grey now sat, nursing a double-espresso and a triple-strength hangover. Every morning for the last 3 days, the young student had waited near the office of Prof.Moran, hoping to catch a glimpse of him or Tara. He was growing impatient with the waiting, and was considering more drastic actions.

He looked again at the parchment in front of him: it was old, the oldest thing he had ever seen, and the strange markings on it were unlike any writing he had ever come across in his studies. He turned it over in his hands, caressing the delicate softness off the ancient fabric, and gazed at the single word scribbled in modern ink, in his Fathers handwriting: Moran.

He considered this, as he had many times before: what was his father trying to tell him? Was Moran the man that could decipher the scroll, and the mystery of the amulet, or was this grey-haired, slightly befuddled and very eccentric old teacher actually a cold-blooded murderer? Logan didn't have the answer, and the person who did was just now walking up the front stairs of the campus building across the street. Logan watched as Professor Moran entered the building where his faculty office was located.

Young master Grey knew that today would be the day that the answers he sought would become clearer. He finished his coffee quickly, and ordered another to go. Leaving the cafe, Logan sauntered over to the stairs that Moran had just ascended, and leaned against the handrail, lighting a cigar. As he smoked, he looked around the campus, waiting for the arrival of Tara Craven.

Looking at her watch, Tara Craven rushed through the campus grounds, aiming to catch the professor before he left for his first lecture. She could not stop her heart beating wildly, as she wondered whether Moran had been successful in his endeavour. Of course, she had every faith that he would be, but as all her hopes rested on getting funding, she could not help feeling slightly apprehensive. Still, if need be, she would find herself being suddenly very charming to Logan Grey.

Seeing the familiar building growing in her view, she picked up her speed a little, practically running up the steps and through the main door, where she slowed to a more reasonable pace, but even so, no one would be able to deny that she was in a hurry. Barely acknowledging people as she walked, so focused on her destination was she, Tara finally reached the door to the professors office.

She took several deep breaths, ran her hands over her outfit, and patted her hair, to tidy any loose strands that may have escaped from its band. Feeling a little more relaxed, she knocked on the door and waiting for Moran to bid her to come in. On hearing his assent to enter, she opened the door and made her way inside, her eyes falling on the man behind the desk.

Covering the distance between the door and the professor in a few short steps, she smiled, displaying more ease than she was actually feeling. She could feel her stomach churning, and was sure that she was several shades paler than normal, despite the rosy glow on her cheeks following her dash.

“I hope I find you well, Professor?” She sat down in the proffered chair, and looked at Moran, the smile she displayed was fixed firmly on her lips, in a bid to hide her nervousness. She wanted to shout out the question playing around her mind, but she waited for him to speak.

Not only was this a chance to begin the search for her father, but also the first day of the rest of her life. If she could prove herself on this adventure, she would get her foot on the first rung of the ladder, and eventually be able to follow in the footsteps of Professor Moran.

She was stunning: Logan was enraptured by the way the tall brunette seemed to sway her hips every time she giggled, so enraptured with her that he almost missed Tara completely as she scurried up the stairs into the building, seemingly oblivious to everything around her.

Slipping the gorgeous young woman a business card and a winning smile, he apologised and hurried after Tara, crushing his cigar underfoot before entering the non-smoking building. He assumed that Ms.Craven was on her way to see the Professor, so he went towards his office, stopping a few feet from the door. Logan decided to wait a short time before making his presence felt. He reached inside his jacket to touch the ancient parchment.

"Soon Father...soon I will have the answers." he vowed under his breath, his fists clenched.

Moran had, actually, fallen asleep. He'd always found office hours terribly boring, especially since it seemed that students rarely took advantage of the situation. Here he was, essentially offering free tutoring, and the damned students couldn't be bothered to take advantage of it. But, then again, it gave him free time to grade papers, catch up on other work, or -- in this case -- sleep.

However, years of going places that he wasn't supposed to had made him something of a light sleeper. He was awake and looking busy as Tara walked up and slipped inside his office. He gestured slightly to a chair and smiled at her question, "Yes, I'd say I'm doing pretty well." He was the picture of professorial disinterest, his face a mask, hiding his amusement. He know exactly what Tara was practically bursting at the seams with desire to ask him about the expedition, but he was having too much fun taunting her.

In that spirit, he casually glanced at the small clock on the wall, "Hmm... cutting things a little close, aren't you? I've got a class soon..." Barely keeping back a smile, he continued, "Perhaps we could conduct our business after my classes. Around seven o'clock, tonight?" When he saw the look on her face, he couldn't hold back his smile, "I'm just teasing. The school and government grants got no responce, no surprize there, however I did get a pair of corporate sponcers." He paused a moment letting what he said sink in. "We're going, in other words."

Tara listened to the professor speak with mixed emotions, as first she was ready to explode when he told her they should postpone, then she wanted to scream at him to tell her what he knew, then finally the words she wanted to hear, were finally uttered, and all she did was sit there. No sounds escaped from her lips, no movement from her body, only the natural rise and fall of her chest, as she stared at him, her brain slowly processing the information.

Then suddenly as if someone had released the flood gates, she began to smile and clap her hands, her heart pounding in her ears. “Professor, thank you. I know they words aren’t adequate for what this means to me, but thank you.” She took several deep breaths trying to make herself calm, as she feared that any second she was going to make a fool of herself and jump up from the chair and throw her arms around Moran for joy.

“This means so much to me. To be able to complete my father’s work, is like a dream.” She smiled sadly as she thought of her missing parent. “I know I’m not in his league, but the chance to experience something that he did…” Clearing her throat she went on. “And there is no one I would rather achieve my goal with than you.” She blushed slightly, knowing that the professor was not one for such speeches.

Once again the sadness disappeared and a brilliant smile filled her whole face, her excitement winning over again. “If it wasn’t early, and if you didn’t have a class soon, I would buy you a drink to celebrate.” She frowned slightly as she gave it some thought, then rose from her seat. “Still, I’m sure you could manage a coffee?” Walking over to the door, she placed her hand on the knob, and pulled the door open. “I’ll grab us one.”

Smiling back at the professor, she didn’t look where she was going and almost walked straight into Logan. “Mr Grey, what a surprise! I thought you had forgotten about my offer.” She stood stock still just staring at him, waiting for someone to speak.

Logan was a young man of many talents, but patience was not one of them. As he waited outside Morans office, Logan fidgeted impatiently. Finally, he could take it no longer. He was just about to knock on the door when it opened suddenly, almost spilling Tara Craven into his arms. He caught the scent of her as she caught herself and took a step back. Logan smiled at her.

"Ummm, hi. I brought my checkbook..."

Continuing to look at Logan for a moment, Tara knew that even he could not destroy the good mood that she was in right now. The news that Moran had given her would keep her happy until they hit the next big problem, but she wasn’t going to even think about that until she came to it. She cast him a smile, her eyes sparkling with pleasure; so pleased was she, that she didn’t care if he misread her expression as being aimed at him.

“You can keep it in your jacket for a while longer, Mr Grey.” She turned her head and smiled in the professor’s direction. “I told you not to give up on Professor Moran.” Turning back, she pointed in the general direction of the coffee. “I’m going for refreshments, would you like one?”

Once again she gave her attention to her mentor. “Professor, Mr Grey here is interested in joining our exhibition.” She grinned suddenly, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Perhaps you can regale him with tales of your last adventure, and let him see what lies in store should you decide to let him tag along.” She stepped through the door, and disappeared around the corner. “I’ll be right back.” She called back from down the corridor.

The smile that shone from Tara's face literally blinded Logan with its beauty. He felt a stirring inside him, a beast of an emotion, unfurling and unfolding. He wasn't sure what it was, and he was even less sure he liked it. He tried to compose himself, but failed miserably.

"Are you...I mean...heh...uhmmm..." Logan stuttered, cringing inwardly as he watched himself turn to jello. Usually composed, cool, collected, and whizbang with the ladies, Logan was confused as to what was happening to him.

Tara didn't even seem to be aware that Logan was mumbling as she walked past him towards the coffee. She was speaking, but he could only hear his heart beating...until she mouthed the name of the professor. Logan’s mind zoomed back into clarity when he realized that Tara was providing him an opening to get close to Moran. He smiled weakly in gratitude towards her and entered the office.

As he approached the large desk, Logan examined the man in front of him. Professor Moran seemed to be strong and robust, and in looked to be in very good shape. His shock of thick white hair made him look much older than he actually was, and on closer observation, Logan saw that he could be no more than 40 years old or so. His weathered skin and gently-lined face told the story of a man who had lived an interesting life yet dangerous life. His eyes were intelligent and hard, and Logan knew he would have to be very careful around this man. He stopped in front of the desk and looked down at the professor.

"Hello again, professor. We met briefly a few days ago, shortly after the graduation ceremonies, and we discussed the possibility of me joining you on a future expedition?" Logan waited, but Moran acknowledged nothing. The young student carried on.

"By coincidence, I found out about Ms. Craven's ...problem, and I offered to help her out with the financing of her expedition...she suggested that I come and speak with you today regarding that, so that's essentially why I'm here. I want to be a part of this, and I’ll do whatever’s necessary to help Tara find her answers."

Logan paused, taking a breath, surprised at the emotion in his voice when he mentioned her name, and amazed to find that he wasn’t lying.

He waited for a reaction, any reaction from the professor.

Professor Moran's Apartment, Chiba City, The Hack
Just after graduation

The message was succinct and to the point - Moran was offering him a job. Now, he fancied himself retired, but this paticular name stirred some old memory, something from the past. He knew he'd never met the man, though through travelling in cimilar circles he'd certainly heard of him. So, put of curiosity, he returned the call. Moran was suprized by the phone call, he rarely received them, grabbing at the receiver, "Hello?"

"Professor Moran I take it?" he said, in a rather gruff voice. While Moran was unaccustomed to recieving calls, Haefaustus was unaccustomed to making them.

He blinked a few times, the voice vaguely familiar. He'd heard it recently, "Yes, that's me. Who's calling?"

"Haefaustus Kakaletris. You'd called me not a few hours ago."

Moran smiled to himself, at least he'd gotten a call back, "Ah, yes. I didn't recognize your voice, I'm afraid. But, yes, I am still interested in hiring your services."

"What exactly are you wanting to hire me for?" he asked, a little annoyed. He'd hoped it would be for something else. "I do consider myself somewhat retired."

"Ah, I was afraid of that. You see, I'm in need of a boat and a guide. I'm hoping to retrace the steps of Prof Craven's last expedition, and hopefully find out what happened to him."

Haefaustus perked up at the mention of Prof. Craven. They'd been somewhat close back in their time, and much of his wealth came from their expeditons together. He hadn't heard that anything was amiss with him, however. "Happened to him? What's happened to him?" he blurted, concerned. "I'm sure you know I owe that man a thing or two."

Moran smiled softly, he'd found his hook, "That's just it: nobody knows. He vanished without a trace a couple years ago, exploring ruins in Naduibi. His daughter and I intend to find out what, and I'm hoping that you'll be able to help us."

He pondersed. Seems he'd finally found a way to repay Craven for his... generosity. "And suppose I should help you... you say you need a ship? Ships need crews my friend, and crews need pay. I can have an able-bodied cew to sail the Rynn in four days, but I need to be able to promise them something."

"I have more than sufficient funding. This is a full sponcered expedition. Give me your rates, and I'll submit the costs. Don't worry, friend, I'm no amateur."

Haefaustus grinned, liking the sound of this. "I don't suppose you're expecting to find some large treasure with a great payoff, eh? Otherwise I'd offer standard wages. What kind of currency?"

Moran chuckled softly. Mercs were all the same, "There could be, I'm not positive. Of course, it's an ancient temple, so there's likely to be something. I'll leave standard wages as a backup." He smiled, "Oh, and payment will be Hacker chits. I'm sure the exchange rate will be... favorable."

This brought out a laugh. "Well, the sorts of men you'd find in this shit hole'd work for daily bread, so I think chits will do fine. I'll just wave a little hard currency around and I'll get you the finest crew Al Arish has to offer. Agreed?"

"Sounds wonderful. We'll be arriving in a week or two."

Chiba City University, Chiba City, The Hack
Back to present day

Moran chuckled softly at the range of emotions shown by Tara, before nodding gently, "Wait until we've completed the trip to thank me. So far, all I've done is booked you on a (hopefully) round trip to Naduibi." He smiled, "Oh, and arranged for a local guide, too." He paused a moment before adding, "Who happens to have been an old friend of your father's." Given her a moment to thank him some more, he smiled at her offer of coffee, "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Moran gazed at Logan stoically, letting the name tumble around in his head for awhile. It bounced around a bit before finally colliding violently with the conversation with the student from last week. The two bits of information picked themselves off the floor of his brain, dusted themselves off, and finally merged into a coherant memory. "Ah, yes... Mr. Grey. Good to see you again." He pondered for a moment, "Yes, yes, you wanted to go with me on an expedition to get yourself some experience in the real world." He pulled up a quick file on his computer, "Hmm, yes... I see."

He leaned back in the chair slightly, folding his hands in his lap, looking over Logan. While his face may be weatherbeaten, and his hair shock-white, his eyes were still quite sharp and focused. "Your offer, while appreciated, isn't really necessary. I've obtained all the needed funding already, however... if you wish to accompany us, this would give you your field experience."

He leaned forward slightly, "But bear in mind: this is no field trip. These journeys are often quite dangerous." He smiles thinly, "And the local flora a fauna, while it can kill you dead, is often the least of your concerns." His voice dropped in volume as he continued, "There are things out there that do not belong in our world. Things that can kill you without effort, if you're lucky. I've had more than one expedition member driven mad by the things we've seen." He left his words sink in before continuing, "You should think this over." He slid a couple pieces of paper across the desk, "The first sheet has a series of books writen by 'Alexander Curwin'. That's a pen name used, by me, for my expeditions that are too unbelievable for non-fiction publication." He smiled, "I assure you they're completely factual. Perhaps you should look into them before making a final decision. If you still want to go with, the second sheet has all the information you'll need."

When Moran made his offer, it felt like a great weight had lifted off of Logan's shoulders. As the professor pushed the the two lists across the desk, the young grad student smiled appreciatively, and received them graciously.

"Sir...thank-you. I understand that there is some danger in this type of expedition, but I assure you that I am more than capable of handling myself." Logan slid a folder across the desk to Moran. "That is a list of the different skills and experiences that I can bring to your team, sir...I compiled it after we last spoke. As you can see, while I may be young, I can be a benefit to the group, even if only to carry your bags."

Logan looked at the professor, trying to guage his reaction. As usual, Moran gave nothing away. The folder sat untouched in front of him as he continued to stare at Logan.

"I will read what you have given me, Professor, but understand this: nothing will scare me away from going with you and Tara. Nothing."

Logan stared determinedly at Moran, defying him to challenge his statement.

Having returned with three cups carefully balanced in her hands, Tara remained outside the door for a moment, listening to the conversation inside. Once it looked like the professor and Logan had reached a good point, she pushed the slightly open door with her foot. “Here we go.” She moved swiftly to the desk, and placed the three cups of coffee down, passing Moran his, with a smile. “Have you been telling Mr Grey the good news?”

She turned to Logan and pointed to his cup. “I’m afraid I didn’t know how you took yours, so I got you black.” She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a couple of little cartons and sachets. “And grabbed some milk and sugar.” She smiled and picked up her own cup, taking a long sip.

She spoke again, her excitement making it hard for her to stop, even for breath. “I can’t believe we are actually going. I’m sure I’m going to wake up in a minute and find I’m still in bed.” She didn’t know what to do first, her head was spinning with the plans rushing around her head, she really needed to get organised, and most importantly, she must not let her mother know what she was doing. She did not want her to worry, after all, what had stopped her father from returning could stop her.

Looking at the others in the room, she blushed, knowing that she was behaving like a fool, but this meant a lot to her for many reason; first to finished and perhaps find her father’s work; second to once again work with a man she respected over all others, and third to finally prove that her hard work to get her degree was not going to be wasted by showing the world she was capable.

The three discussed their plans for several hours, Logan being included even though the professor and Tara felt sure that once he had read the books mentioned by Moran, he would not show his face again. Little did either of them know. Eventually the time rolled round, and all three know that they had a lot of arrangements to deal with before their trip would be able to get underway.

Managing to finally curb her excitement, Tara looked at her watch feeling a little guilty for keeping Moran for so long. “Thank you again, Professor.” She smiled, not that she had stopped since he told her the good news, but this particular one was for the older man’s benefit.

For hours, Logan had listened with half a mind to the details and logistics of the upcoming expedition to Naduibi. Not that he didn't have a keen interest in the discussion, but Logan was busy fighting a small war within himself. The more he came to know Prof. Moran, the less he could believe that he could be involved in the murder of his father. As time continued to pass, Logan found himself starting to actually like the man. This revelation in itself would have been enough to ignite the battle inside of him.

Then there was Tara.

Logan Grey had never really had any problems with women before, and what he could not woo, he could pay for. Blessed with good looks, an athletes strength and a clever tongue, the young man never found himself alone, unless he wanted to be. Sitting beside Tara, listening to her voice, watching her gestures, intrigued by the small dimple that appeared whenever she would smile, Logan realized that he never wanted to be alone again. THIS was what fueled the war of confusion within.

As the discussion came to an end, he saw Tara look at her watch. Logan decided that this would be a good time to take his leave. Gathering up the notes he had written, Logan reached over the desk to shake the professors hand. He was not surprised by the strength of his grip...Moran was not a weak man. "I want to thank-you again, professor, for taking a chance with me. I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

He turned to Tara. Reaching into his vest with his free hand, he withdrew a small card which he handed to her. "My contact information is on there, and I can be reached at anytime." He looked at her for a moment, then turned to leave the office. He stopped mid-turn and stepped closer to her. Logan spoke in a hushed voice: "Please don't be insulted...I just want to make sure we do this right." He pressed a slip of paper into her hand and hurried to the door. Logan closed the door behind him, and walked quickly through the halls, his cheroot already lit before he stepped outside.

Puffing gently, Logan wondered how Tara would react when she realized he had given her a cashiers check, made out in her name. Five million dollars was a lot of money. Suddenly, Logan decided that it may be in his best interest to give her some room to digest it...LOTS of room.

Moran's Office, Chiba City University, Chiba City, The Hack

Moran thanked Tara for his coffee, black, and couldn't help but smile at Logan's enthusiasm. "You're quite welcome for the opportunity, and here's hoping that this isn't your last expedition as well. Remember, we're retracing Prof. Craven's steps, and he vanished. This isn't going to be digging for dinosaur bones in some desert; this will be dangerous." He handed a sheet of paper to each of them; it was covered in small print, "Standard university waver forms. Essentially, they say that you indemnify the university in the event of... misfortune." He smiled darkly, "Gotta keep the suits happy."

The legal nonsense out of the way, the professor went into further detail of the expedition, filling the two students in on what their itinerary would be, things they should bring along, and various things like that. He also informed Logan of certain "ground rules" for expeditions that Moran led. Tara had already heard that particular lecture and it hadn't really changed since their last trip together, and it essentially boiled down to: "Do what I say, and when the shit hits the fan, don't question me, I know what I'm doing." It was almost amazing the way he transformed from the slightly-addled-but-friendly professor to a been-to-Hell-and-back expedition leader.

The time for his class had long since passed by the time the meeting was wrapping up, but Moran wasn't concerned. He had already informed the university that he wouldn't be around for the class anyway. As the two filed out from his office, he shook Logan's hand, his grip showing not only that he wasn't a weak man, but that he was younger than his body appeared. He smiled at both of them as they thanked him, "Again, save your thanks for when we get back. This is just the start."

Data Packet Airlines Airplane Cabin, Over International Waters
Some time later

The week had been something of a blur to Moran. Between getting his gear together for the journey, finding a replacement for his classes, and finalizing everything, including some last minute nonsense from the funders for the trip, it felt like trekking through a deadly jungle would be a vacation. He had had his guns cleaned professionally, aquired a brand new GPS-displaying watch, and several other toys for the trip to hopefully avoid the problems of the last journey. He had also packed a few of his more... esoteric books, also as a "just-in-case". He'd hoped they wouldn't run into anything like the monstrosity from last time, but better to have the proper references than to rely on a rubbing from a temple wall.

At least getting through Chiba City International hadn't been much of a problem, despite its tendancy for delays and unfriendly staff. The whole thing had been about as pleasant as one could expect for getting on a flight to some backwater hole of a country. The firearms hadn't really been a problem either. There were certain advantages to being on a Research Passport. It was assumed that damn near anything he wanted to bring was a necessity.

So here he was, relaxing on the plane as it made the long journey across the ocean. In a few hours they would be landing, and he could see about locating Haefaustus, and could see about really getting this thing underway. After all, he found himself wondering just what had happened to Prof. Craven as well.

Logan spent his week preparing for the expedition, and reading the books the professor had recommended to him. They were of high quality, and filled with adventure, intrigue and action, and Logan had to keep reminding himself that these were NOT works of fiction, but true accounts of Moran's travels. The young student felt his respect rising for his former teacher.

He had not heard from Tara all week, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. His banker informed him that the check had not been cashed as yet. Logan was worried that he might have insulted Tara, but at the same time he felt that he had done the right thing, even if Tara never wanted to see him again...the thought of that drove a burning stake of pain through him.

His personal gear for the expedition was among the best and most modern that money could buy. At this moment, he was dry-firing his favorite pistol, ensuring the action was smooth and unimpeded. Designed and crafted for his father, the Drake .48 calibre pistol packed a punch that could stop a charging bull, but with hardly any recoil. It was a thing of beauty to look at, and a pleasure to shoot.

Before leaving for the airport, Logan went over some last minute details with his bodyguard and chauffeur, Brick. The massive ex-soldier had been with the Grey family for over 20 years, and Logan loved him. Brick was still fuming in frustration due to the fact that his young charge was going into a dangerous situation without him. Logan handed him a file.

"OK, this is our itinerary and maps of the area. I have the tracker sewn into my belt, but I want you and the team to stay far behind...give us a 2 day lead." Logan smiled when he saw the look of concern in Brick's eye. "...and don't worry about me: you've taught me how to take care of myself."

With that, Logan grabbed his kit and made his way to the airport to meet Tara and Moran.

Tara yawned tiredly as she tried to focus on the book in front of her, but every time she looked at the pages the print seemed to swirl before her eyes, and became some intelligible mess. Closing the book with a thud, she leant forward and attempted to stuff it under her seat, out of the way, but the thing was having nothing of it, so eventually she left it on the floor and rested her feet on it.

Wriggling in her seat, she recalled the last time she was on a plane with the professor, it was the day after he had disposed of that strange being that was attempting to rise out of a Temple. The images of that day still caused her to have nightmares, but she found that sleeping near the knife that Tepak had given her, they had become less frequent. Her foot brushed against her bag, knowing that the blade was safely tucked inside.

She looked over at Moran, who was deeply engrossed in one of his tomes. He always seemed to have his head in one of his books; in fact the one she was resting her feet on was one that he suggested she read for the trip. She turned her head, and looked in the direction of Logan. He also had his head in a book, and tilting her head slightly, she was sure it was one of the professors adventures. She had read them herself, and even experiencing what she had in the past, some of them took a bit of believing. But she took every one of them as gospel, never doubting one word or exploit that appeared on the pages.

Wriggling in her chair, she tried to get comfortable, suddenly remembering how much she disliked the cramped conditions of planes, even in club class. She could afford the best of everything now, or she could if she had banked the cheque. She remembered the day she had been given it.

* * * * *

Leaving Moran’s office with a smile, she had happily walked back to her room, no longer rushing like she had on the way there, but now was taking a more leisurely stroll. She could feel the note that Logan had thrust into her hand, other than his business card, sure that it was another dinner date. She supposed that she would have to tell him that she was not interested in a relationship at the moment. How could she think about such things when the opportunity to discover what had happened to her father was now lying before her.

She was just about to crumple it unread, and toss it into the nearest bin, when she decided that she at least owed it to him to read it first. After all, it could be anything. An apology for his behaviour; a thank you for getting him invited along. A treasure map. She giggled at the thought of having something in her hand that could be worth a lot of money, once she found where X marked the spot.

Finally reaching her room, she closed the door behind her and tossed her keys and the note from Logan onto the desk, then walked over to the fridge and pulled out a Sprite, drinking half the bottle before pulling it away from her mouth. She switched on the television, and turned it off moments later, unable to concentrate on it. She picked up the phone, and speed dialled her mother; the older woman’s voice appearing shortly on the other end.

“Hello, Mom…I have good news. Professor Moran got the grant.” She stopped and listened for a moment as her mother went into her usual speech about not taking unnecessary chances, her daughter nodding and shaking her head in the usual spoke, unknown to Mrs Craven. “Yes, I will be careful. And you know how good the professor is.” Again her mother began another all too familiar speech.

Spotting the piece of paper on the table, Tara picked it up and began to unfold it, barely taking any notice as she did, as her focus had returned to her call. “Yes, I know that father was an expert, but even he admitted to bowing down to Moran’s greater knowledge. I will be safer in the jungle with the professor than walking across main street.” She finally had the note straightened in her hand. “And I promise I will… Oh, my god!” She dropped the phone, and the paper. Bending down, she retrieved both quickly, the receiver back by her ear in time to hear her mother’s panicked voice.

“It’s okay. It’s ah…” She was speechless as she reread the figures on the cheque. “I’ll call you back later.” Clicking the phone off, she sat down slowly on the bed, the paper held between her fingers, staring at the amount of money she was holding in her hands.

* * * * *

Stretching again, Tara again looked at Moran. She had followed his example and armed herself, not that she had chosen anything like he had. She grimaced as she recalled how she had landed on her backside the one and only time she had tried to fire it. Picking something with enough of a punch, but less of a kick, she felt that she had aided her survival chances.

“So, Professor, when we arrive, we make for this boat owner, this…” She looked at the itinery, which she had stuffed in the pocket on the back of the chair in front for safe keeping. “Haefaustus. You know, the more I say it, the more I think I can recall my father mentioning him.” She had been wracking her brain since she first saw it. “And he is going to take us up river? Are you sure we can trust him?” She did not want to think that this Haefaustus may know something about Professor Craven’s disappearance because he was there at the time.

Logan thanked whatever Gods were watching over him, for Tara seemed to be in fine spirits, and though she had yet to mention the money he had given her, she did not act as if she was going to kick him in the groin. He settled back in his seat, pretending to read the book in his hands.

Before he had left, one of Logan's employees had flown on ahead to their destination, preparing the way for the arrival of the expedition. Money was handed out, lots of money, ensuring that any of the local guides and hunters that Haefaustus might hire were actually working for Logan. The young student was not aware of this, because the planning was done by Brick to ensure the safety of the man-boy he considered his own.

Logan glanced over at Tara, marvelling at the energy that brimmed from her. With his eyes, he traced the strong line of her jaw down to her elegant throat, and let his gaze drop even lower. She was a beautiful woman to be sure, but there was something about her that made her the most stunning creature that Logan ever had the pleasure, and honor, of knowing.

He was feeling somewhat cramped, not used to the regular seating in an airliner, and wishing that he had had the guts to insist that the expedition use one of his private jets. At least they were now on their way, and soon Logan would be able to pursue the mystery of his fathers death. He was excited by the upcoming adventure...if the professors books were any indication, this trip should prove to be very interesting indeed.

*****************************************************

Somewhere else...

The young native named Tepak was dying, painfully bleeding his lifeblood into the Jungle floor. As he breathed his last, he sent his inner-self into the ether. His body died, and the connection was broken. His soul, for want of a better word, searched for a point to ground itself, and found it in the ceremonial Daru blade that Tara carried with her. The soul entwined itself in the mystic blade, and was satisfied.

Tepak could rest easy now: he had come home.

The swift current and deadly undertow of the Naduibi River did it's job, and the headless corpse slid under the waves for the last time. The two figures who had created the corpse shared a bottle of shine by the riverbank. When word that a stranger who was spreading money around the waterfront reached the ears of their boss, the two men were quickly asked to take the moneyman for a "swim", but not before extracting every piece of useful information from him, very painfully.

Later that day, the information was passed to their boss, who rewarded them with some cash and a day off. He in turn passed the information on to HIS boss, who repeated the process also. Eventually, it reached the desk of the man who controlled them all, and when he saw the name of Professor Danial Moran, Tara Craven and Logan Grey, the man allowed himself a predatory smile.

"Well, well, well...the Book was right again...and it all makes sense now:"Into the Darkness comes a Triad, bringing a Key to deny the Light."

The man stopped smiling, and anger filled his eyes:

"The Sins of the Father fall on the Children."

Brick and his team never had a chance.

They had left a day before Logan, planning to setup a staging point close to the Moran expedition. His instructions were to follow, and not show themselves unless needed. The 8-man Razor Unit with him were among the best mercenaries that money could by, and they were armed to the teeth with the latest technology.

They had been circling the edge of a great forest, looking for the clearing they had planned on setting up camp in, when the first heat-seeker hit their craft. The explosion took out a gyroscope, sending the ship into a corkscrew spin. The second missile blew a huge, gaping hole in the side of the craft, sucking four Razors to their death.

The third heat-seeker turned the craft into a fireball.

always wins. And I'm playing Cthulhu. ;) ]

<< OOC: Absolutely! It's your baby to run, and I follow willingly...BUT...I just wanted to keep things going, add some POTENTIAL story-lines to follow for the future, and add some intrigue. AND I wanted to get rid of all the "extra's: that were following me around...in essence, I want Logan to "come of age" and realize he is really on his own...also, it leaves me an opening for a new RP (if Logan is still alive at the end of of this one!)

Lead on, fair Hack, lead on!!>>

[Yeah, but I wanted them to be horribly eaten my unspeakable eldritch horrors. :p

Anyway, no harm, no foul. I'll have a real post tomorrow, my brain's dead today.]

<<OOC: Ahhh, you need victims...understood>>

When the first scream came from the radar warning, Brick was already bolting towards the deployment hatch. He pushed the door open, and grabbing the soldier nearest to him, jumped out of the opening. The first missile hit 2 seconds after that.

Buffeted by the explosion, the two soldiers tumbled through the air, landing thankfully in the swampy undergrowth that passed for land in this region. They were bruised, battered and dirty, but they were alive. Brick looked at the white-faced soldier in front of him, a red-haired rookie straight out of nursery school. He smiled at the man-boy in a way that was fatherly...if your father was a shark.

"Any landing you can walk away from is a good one," Brick paused to wipe some mud from his face. "What's yer name, son?"

"Sir, Private Redmond T. Shirrt SIR!" the lanky kid smiled a bucktooth grin, "but my friends call me "Red".

Data Packet Airlines Airplane Cabin, Over International Waters

Moran set down his book, smiling at Tara, "Actually, I never worked with Haefaustus. How trustworthy? Good question." He shrugged slightly, "He seemed to feel that he owed your father quite a bit. I don't think I'd trust him utterly, but he should be as trustworthy as the next person. Besides, money goes a long way toward loyalty, and he knows I'm good for it."


General Dingane Mkwayi International Airport, Naduibi
A couple hours later

The airplane touched down without incident in Gen. Dingane Mkwayi International Airport. After seeing Chiba City International, this one seemed much less impressive. While Chiba was a gigantic affair with dozens of runways active twenty-four hours a day, simultaniously, the Mkwayi airport had but a single runway. Indeed, the only reason it was "international" was because of flights to and fro Chiba. The Hack had heavily invested in (some might say "exploited") Naduibi, using them for cheap labor, while building up their infrastructure. General Mkwayi was in charge of the junta that currently ruled in Naduibi, however, as long as he didn't actively oppose the Hack, and kept it to retoric, Victor and the Senate didn't much care. However, doing anything else wasn't that likely. While Mkwayi was a ruthless dictator, he didn't see much use in pissing off the nation that kept his economy limping along, and he didn't see much use in pointlessly slaughtering his own people. So, while not a paradise, Naduibi was far from being an utter shit hole.

As the professor and his two former students disembarked, they were met by Ntombizodwa Sebe, one of the General's low-level diplomats. She was a surprizingly tall woman, close to six and-a-half feet tall, and built almost like a statue. She clearly came from what Naduibi would consider a "wealthy" family, as she didn't show any evidence of wasting, parasitic infection, or any of the other nastiness that usually goes with living in a nation with substandard sanitation. She wore a traditional wrap of reds and oranges and smiled broadly as the three walked up. Her English was quite passable, her accent barely noticable.

"Professor, Miss Craven, Mr. Grey. I hope your flight was enjoyable. I know that you are just 'passing through', but I was sent to expediate that process."

Moran nodded, "Thank you, Ms... uh..."

She laughed softly, "My name is Ntombizodwa Sebe." She grinned slightly at the responce, "Yes, quite a mouthful. If you will follow me, please."

Ntombizodwa led them through customs. Or rather past customs, which was probably a good thing. While Ntombizodwa was an intimidating woman because of her stature, she was nothing compared to the surly looking customs agents, and their even surlier guards with their utterly unfriendly looking assault rifles. The interior of the airport was reasonably clean. There were no goatherds or other things one might half expect in such a place.

She nodded to the three, "Your contact, Mr. Kakaletris, should meet you here shortly. If there is anything else that you require before I leave, please ask."

Moran smiled, "I don't think I need anything, personally. Send the General our best, Ms. Sebe."

Enuti Jaharti lept over the log, feeling the freedom as he landed on the other side and his legs began to pump again. He ran through the trees and underbrush, leaving nothing but a barely swaying trail of branched behind him.

Of all the boys his age, he had always been the fastest runner, and the best in the jungle at moving unseen in the tribe. He might not have been the best with an arrow or a spear, but his running had been enough to get him out of Naduibi, to be formally educated at a big university. But now he was back home. He helped teach the children and the adults, for in addition to many wonderful things, he had focused on learning ways to improve life for his tribe.

Except, he was not at home at the moment. Now he and two other young men ran through the jungle in a race. It was part of the competition, of course. Janr Icknuti was trying to impress Charra. Which of course meant he needed to win the race, which was the last part of the three events he had asked his friends to help him stage. Enuti slowed his headlong pace a bit. If he was the first to the river, he would win, and he was very close.

He heard a splash and saw the back of Janr’s head through the thinning trees. He was in the water. And then, so was Enuti. Living on the river, they were all strong swimmers, and very little remained the waters immediately across from the village, for the villagers kept the majority of the threats out, so they could raise their animals and children without having to worry about creatures carting them off.

This used to be done by hunting, but Enuti had showed the hunters a new way, involving some steel nets below the surface, tied to trees on either side of the river. The steel nets had cost them a small fortune but it was worth it. Even with the hunting, many animals and the occasional child were lost. But in the two years since they had bought the nets, they had lost only two of their cows.

So the nets were paid for now, and made this section of the river safe. These thoughts carried him most of the way across the river, and as he raised his head, he saw Janr climbing out along the bank, and turning back with a grin on his face. Enuti took Janr’s hand, and was helped out of the water, and they both turned to look as Beneli jumped in the river.

Once the third young man had made it across, the three friends hugged, laughing happily, as they made their way towards the smells of food within the village. Dinner would be ready soon.

Disembarking from the plane, Tara put on her sunglasses and pulled on a sun hat that she carried with her, not that they were in the burning heat, but it was always best to be prepared. Straightening her bag strap, she followed Moran into the main airport, and gazed, or more likely stared, at the woman who greeted them. She had never met a woman that tall before. She was not exactly short at five foot eight, but she felt it compared to woman before her.

She smiled and presented her hand, shaking it firmly, before the party was guided through customs and stopped as Ntombizodwa Sebe informed them that they would be met shortly. She dropped her bag to the floor, the weight of it bearing down on her shoulder as she told herself for the millionth time that she had packed far too much. Before they started their journey proper, she would have to lighten her load, otherwise she feared she would be left standing, or unable to run fast enough from the big bad that had decided to make her its lunch.

Gazing around, she wondered just what was in store for them. They were to travel with an acquaintance of her father, and the professor’s weariness of the man did not help to alleviate her fears. Still, she had her trusty gun and her knife, which oddly made her feel more safe. Over the last few hours it seemed to be playing on her mind, as if something strange had happened. She shook her head, dispelling her doubts before they over took her.

“This was one of the last places we know my father was.” She spoke out loud, but was aiming the fact to no one in particular. Her face took on a pained expression as she imagined her father standing exactly where she was now. Once again she banished her thoughts. Although she hoped that she could finally lay to rest the mystery of his disappearance, finishing Professor Craven’s last expedition was why she had come here. “I have a good feeling about this place.” She laughed lightly to herself, not exactly sure whether she actually meant it.

Being tall was a good thing in general, except when it came to travel. Logan stretched his long frame as he stepped out into the sun-soaked day. Stifling a sneeze, the young man followed his compatriots down the stairs towards the tarmac. He liked following Tara and watching the way she moved...she was confident yet hesitant...a tentative huntress. So engrossed was Logan that he failed to notice the tall amazon until she called his name.

She WAS a big one, almost as tall as Logan himself, and she was quite beautiful as well. As she conversed with the Professor, Logan glanced over at Tara, who was looking out over the horizon. She spoke softly to herself, and the look of sadness that suddenly crossed her face was almost unbearable for her young admirer. He began to step towards her when her face melted into a small smile, and he heard her say "I have a good feeling about this place..."

"So do I," Logan said quietly, not wanting to startle Tara, "I'm really happy for you...I mean, I'm happy that you have a chance to find your Dad and...well, I just want you to know that I may have started the this trip with less than honorable intentions, but right now..."Logan paused, "right now, I'm here for you. I'll do everything I can to help you with this..."

Brick and Red slogged through the swamp, more worried of being eaten alive by bugs than by the large reptiles that lurked in the darkness. Brick was unsure exactly where they were, because his GPS had been damaged in the fall. The young rookie by his side, 'Red' Shirtt, was shivering from shock and mumbling to himself. Brick knew they needed to find shelter quickly, before the young man succumbed to the elements. Flipping his goggles to infra-red, Brick scanned the area around him. There was a strong heat-source about a kilometer away, and the large security man decided to head in that direction. He chambered a round in his rifle and began the long trek. Red followed slowly behind him, and Brick could hear his words:

"I gotta bad feelin' 'bout this..."

Haefaustus was waiting for them, as expected. He and his battered green jeep were sitting in the pitiful parking lot of the airport, just beyond the swarm of taxis, and baking in the hot afternoon sun. He wore loose khaki shirt, the top few buttons left open and the sleeves pushed up past his shoulders, and a matching pair of cargo shorts. The black sunglasses hid his eyes, but there was no hiding the frown on his brow. He nodded as they approached, and even extended his hand to the professor, in spite of his apparently annoyance.

"Moran, I take it? You're late," he stated, rather matter of factly. Apparently some University flunky had deemed to inform him of the incorrect arrival time for their flight, and consequently he'd been waiting for close to and hour. "I hope they havn't troubled you too much, Ntombi. I owe you one."

Ntombizodwa grinned at Haefaustus, her eyes twinkling slightly, "Haef, you don't owe me and you know it." She smirked, "Just be nice. I know it's difficult for a grizzled old bat like yourself, but give it some effort, hmm?" She patted his shoulder in a friendly manner, before waving to the others and walked over to a nearby limo, gingerly slipping inside. The car pulled away with little fanfare.

Moran smiled inwardly at Ntombizodwa's chastising of Haefaustus as he shook the man's hand, "Hm. As far as I'm aware, we're right on schedule." He sighed softly, "Some intern probably dropped the ball. However, I'd say that's all the more reason to moving and start this expedition." He blinked, smiling sheepishly, "Ah, almost forget... this is Tara Craven and Logan Grey, they'll be accompanying us."

Ntombi's prodding had finally managed to get something from him other then a frown; in this case, it was a very broad grin that crept across his face as she left them.

"Must have been an administraive screw up, I'm sure," he commented, his accent sounding faintly Greek. "Welcome to Naduibi. I'd give you a tour, but there's little to see, and that's not really why you're here." He paused, and taking up their bags he started tossing them into the back. "Come, we'll be off then. The tides are good for a departure tonight, so we won't waste any time. I suppose you'd like to meet the rest of the crew? They're waiting down at the docks."

Moran nodded simply, hopping into the front passenger seat, "Sounds good to me. Not much sense knocking about at the airport." He glances at Tara and Logan, grinning, "Unless you two want some schlocky souvenirs..."

The only thing Logan really wanted now was a stiff drink and a fine cigar. The bugs had descended on him, little ones and fly's the size of shuttles, buzzing around his head and biting the inside of his ears. He was very pleased to get into shelter where the insects were at least held at bay.

"No sir, professor, I'm ready to move when you are...Tara? You need anything inside?"

As he waited for a reply, Logan hooked his thumbs in his belt, activating his tracker. This would let Brick and the Razor team know that he had arrived in Naduibi. A slight vibration from the tracking device would then let Logan know that Brick was ready.

No response came from the tracker.

Tara watched in silent fascination as Haefaustus conversed with Moran. She let her gaze travel over the new comer, and was oddly taken back that his appearance did not surprise her. Frowning slightly to herself, she could not help wondering just how much her father trusted this man, who they were all willing to entrust their lives too. Still, until she got to know him better, she would be weary of him, and make sure she slept with her gun close at hand.

Pulled out of her reverie at the sound of Moran’s voice as he asked her a question, followed by Logan’s answer, Tara shook her head and smiled. “I think I have brought too much with me already, without adding to it.” She relinquished her hold on her luggage and stared as Haefaustus tossed it into the back of the truck, silently hoping that nothing was broken.

She presented her now free hand to Haefaustus in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She smiled pleasantly, then stepped back, her eyes once again taking in her surroundings.

Enuti smiled at the trading cog’s captain-owner, a short fat white man named Anthony. He made a monthly trip up and down the river to the villages, and Enuti’s village was the last stop. Anthony’s boat had been running the same run for years, ever since Enuti was a small child, and it had replaced Anthony’s father’s boat.

It was mostly what he had come to know as a barge, with plenty of room for cargo from the ten or so villages that lined the river for the twelve day journey out to this last village.

Janr and Beneli were unloading the most precious of the materials purchased, right now some of the small propane tanks that the village used, while Enuti was negotiating in standard for something he had been saving his share of the village funds for the entire time he had been back. He had gotten to try a nightscope once, away at university, and had wanted one ever since, and he wanted one for his rifle, and he was pretty sure Anthony could get him one.

Standing there on the dock, they haggled back and forth jovially, until they reached a finders fee for Anthony and Enuti handed over his funds he had earned as a teacher and consultant. Two years savings came to nearly two thousand universal standard dollars, which would get him the scope, batteries, and pay Anthony fairly well.

But there was little use for the money here in the jungle along the river, at the far edge of civilization, the last village before the sacred waterfall, a twelve day walk further upstream. Enuti had been there once, when he had been fourteen, with his father. All the boys did.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, the cog labored away from the short pier that was the only indication of the village on the river, and drifted downstream slowly before its engines kicked in with a loud growl. Much of the village was gathered and waving to Anthony as he set off, the children squealing loudly over new toys, one group of young men examining a set of carbon steel shafted arrows one of their number had bought.

Enuti smiled, life was good, here on the river. He was glad he had come home, despite the slight ache in his heart he felt everytime he saw Anthony set sail, an ache that felt like each time Anthony set sail, Enuti was losing out on a chance for adventure.

Life was peaceful here, and adventure was a bad thing in the village. But Enuti longed for just a bit of excitement all the same.

The village lay waiting across the river.

Brick was watching intently, using his glasses in magnification mode. He watched as the barge finished unloading and departed down the river. Night was falling, and he needed to decide where they would shelter for the night. He and his young charge were surrounded by swamps and mud-flats, with no dry land as far as the eye could see. There was no way they would survive the night...if the cold wetness did not kill them, the denizens of the swamp surely would.

Brick looked at his scared, young partner: "Boy, are you ready to work for yer money?"

"Y'yes SIR!" cried Red automatically, boot camp training still fresh in his mind.

"Good on ya." replied Brick, slamming his fist into the rookies face. Red crumpled to the ground, blood spurting from his face. Brick walked over and lifted the boys head, lest he drown. Looking down at the kid's broken nose and already blackening eyes, the big mercenary smiled in satisfaction.

"Good soldier." Brick muttered, lifting Red off the ground and tossing him over his shoulder. An hour later, he stumbled into the village and fell to his knees, holding Red gingerly in his arms. He cried out in a voice filled with despair:

"Help me, oh God help me please someone HELP!" the big man cried, tears of pain and fear pouring down his muddied cheeks.

It was one of Bricks better performances.

The jeep sped along the dirt and gravel road, kicking up a great cloud of dust as it went. A few children poked heads out of the huts along the roadside to watch the vehical pass, since even cars were rare here. It took close to a half hour to drive from the airport to the dock, and the narrow crowded roads didn't help. The drive was quiet; the roaring engine and rushing wind from the open-topped jeep made it impossible to hold a conversation.

When they finally did arrive at the docks, one ship did stand out from the rest of the assembled ricktey wooden fishing boats in the harbour. The Rynn's Glory looked pretty much like any other older, hundred foot trawler, with one noticible difference, that being thebeaked prow which rather clearly designating her as being bulit either in ancient Greece or Altairnia. Being that she was steel hulled, the latter seemed more likely.

"There she is, ladies and gentlemen, the Rynn's Glory," he yelled as the drove along the harbourside. "Not too pretty, but she'll get us where we need to go in comfort, if not style."

He pulled up and parked a right next to the broad gangplank, and they were greeted by a trio of men coming out of the cabin. Haefaustus had a smile on his face. "Excellent. Pallus!" he called. "I see you found them both. Very good. Come get the bags; we'll be off quickly."

"Ah, you're all younger, and you're already down there. Bring them yourselves," the oldest man among them called back with a laugh. He was a bit taller and leaner then Haefaustus, but had the same curly hair. His, however, had mostly turned gray.

"How could I forget, old man; you don't handle the stairs as well as you used to! Come, grab your packs - And Mr. Logan, I'll thank you to leave that gizmo in the jeep. We've a GPS unit on the boat, and I don't want any outsiders able to track us without me knowing. Besides, if you're worried about getting lost, I'm sure the professor here has a similar tracker built a little more stealthily into his watch or glasses or something like all good Hackers, eh?" he said with a chuckle. He'd dealt with a few Hackers before, and he knew them all to be very fond of their gadgets.

The jeep now parked, he hopped out after shutting off the engine and opened the back door for Tara. "Now, if you please, follow me."

The ship that stood before them was utterly unimpressive, and Logan wondered whether they would get very far in the old tub. Rough-hewn sailors scurried around, preparing the ship for departure. He looked at Tara, who seemed lost in her thoughts yet again, and at the Professor who was busy going over load-out details with the Captain. His heart almost stopped when Pallus mentioned his GPS tracker...how could he know?

It was the tiniest of items, sewn into his belt, with a shielded energy source and virtually no signature. It was passive, and would only activate if it was contacted from the tracking unit. Probably the best technology money could buy, so Logan assumed that the technology these seemingly simple sailors possessed was superior to his own...and that bore watching closely for the future.

"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about, sir...this is a watch, with a built-in compass, "said Logan, indicating a device strapped on his wrist, "it DOES link to a satellite, but just for weather updates and terrain mapping."

Logan hoped his deflection would succeed.

If Logan could have read Tara’s mind, he would have seen that her thoughts were the opposite of his. When she had stepped out of the truck and had seen the first few wooden boat before her, she had felt her heart sink, wondering how they were going to get anywhere in one of those. She was just about to raise the subject to the professor, when her eyes fell upon the Ryan’s Glory, causing her hope to rise and a smiled to appear on her face.

She moved to the back of the truck, and picked up her back, not trusting it to anyone after the treatment it had already received. Making sure the strap was comfortably on her shoulder, she moved back to the rest of the group in time to catch the end of the conversation between Logan and Haefaustus.

Approaching the younger man, she smiled and spoke lower. “Logan, if you are carrying what the man says you are, just hand it over like a good boy.” She looked at their surroundings, the river indicating their destination did not speak of a pleasant journey ahead. “I’m sure Mr Haefaustus knows where we are, and if not, your little gadget isn’t going to help up. We’ll probably be dead before anyone picks up your signal.”

She turned to Haefaustus and gave him a smile. “Your boat is not what I had expected.” Without waiting for an answer she climbed the steps and looked about her at the crew, suddenly wondering if she was the only female on this trip. She looked back over to Moran and then Haefaustus, shouting back. “I hope I have my own cabin.” She laughed to herself, as she moved further onto the boat, and began thinking about what might lie ahead.

When the two men resolved out of the jungle like creature of the night, Fhedata was looking under the bushes for the new ball that she and her friends had gotten from the trade cog and had accidentally kicked over into the underbrush.

When the larger man spoke in a strange language (‘Help me’ not being a phrase she recognized in standard yet) and she took in their appearance, she screamed, the high pitched frightened scream of a young girl. Her second scream brought even more attention than the first, and adults that had begun to rush towards her paused in their tracks.

You see, two white, obviously non-native men, coming out of the jungle, from beyond the last outpost of human beings on the river, covered in mud and blood, hardly recognizable, speaking a strange language, could only be one thing to the frightened child’s mind.

“Muurata!” she cried, or ‘demons.’ And again she cried as she ran towards her parents, all thoughts of the ball forgotten. “Muurata!”

The second cry spurred the adults into motion, and they went for whatever was at hand. Spears were prevalent, along with the occasional stretched leather shield. Some bows and arrows, even a modern hunting crossbow. Enuti, of course, grabbed his rifle, and reached for his ammunition belt, slinging it over his shoulder in haste. And that was what the men grabbed. Women grabbed cooking pots, and shouted in haste for the children to come inside the small huts that made of the living parts of the village.

The men vanished, some of them, into the jungle, spreading out silently, with a speed and skill the mercenaries would have envied, had they been aware of it. And some of the men, including Enuti, approached them from the village, weapons held ready.

The big man stumbled to the ground, feigning exhaustion. Lying prone in the hard-packed ground of the village center, Brick was satisfied that the natives were reacting better than he had expected: they didn't kill him and Red right off the bat. He had heard the child screaming, and his trained eye noticed how quickly the hunters and warriors of the village reacted. He saw only a handfull, but assumed there numbers were threefold.

"These schlubs are GOOD," mused Brick, lying as if he were unconcious. He was counting on their curiousity overcoming their fear...a spear in the gut is a painful and very final thing.

**************

"Thanks for your support," said Logan in a sarcastic tone, looking at Tara. "Listen, I don't know what the frag this guy thinks, but I submitted the proper papers for ALL my equipment before we left, and it was approved. This watch is all I have..." Truer words could not be spoken, because at this point, Logan felt very much alone.

He wasn't too concerned if they did find the transmitter in his belt...he could claim ignorance, and the actions of an over-protective and over-zealous bodyguard. He was more concerned with why he had not gotten a response from Brick, who was scheduled to arrive on Naduibi a few days before Moran's party.

He saw that he was not going to get any help from Moran or Tara, who had already brushed by and walked up the gang-plank. Stifling his suddenly foul mood, Logan walked past the sailors, his manner and stride defying them to stop him.

Watching Logan board the boat, Tara realised that she may have said the wrong thing. She decided she ought to try and straighten things out, so she walked over slowly, hoping he was in the mood for a conversation. She walked passed the sailors as Logan had done moments before, stopping a little way from where he was.

“Logan?” She smiled awkwardly. “I’m sorry about down on the dock, but if I’m truthful with you, I’m a little concerned.” She swept her eyes about her, then turned her attention back the man before her. “I don’t want to cause any trouble on this trip, and upsetting the captain of the boat, in my opinion, is not a good idea.”

She lowered her bag to the floor, and began rummaging around inside, checking that everything was still in one piece. She looked up at Logan from her position. “I’m not trying to take sides, I just want to finish what my father started, and I want to do it without bringing trouble down upon us.”

Lowering her eyes, she sighed heavily. “I just want us all to get along. Being murdered in my sleep or disappearing like my father is not high on my list of things to do before I reach thirty.” She laughed lightly, and let her gaze fall on his face again, as she rose from the floor, content that her belongings were fine. “And if means you handing over equipment that isn’t going to help us, then I’m going to ask you to hand it over, even if you do have the correct paperwork and a letter from the President.”

She fell silent, hoping that he would not take this the wrong way, as she meant him no disrespect.

Enuti watched as the demons dropped to the ground. They certainly appeared to be men, but they could not be. The only way here was by the river, unless an aircraft had crashed.

But none had done so near by enough to be heard, which meant these creature could not be from that source. And demons could assume human form. It was just said that the demons never came down river of the sacred waterfall, that it guarded these lands.

And as Enuti ran through these thoughts in his mind, his rifle still trained on the intruders, the village elders were sorting through the same ideas, the same facts.

Edler Sjinyt, head of the village council, stepped forward, speaking in their own language. “Bind them.”

Four hunters materialized out of the dense jungle, and roughly separated and then began to bind the two men, all the while staying clear of the watching men’s lines of attack.

"Mr Logan," Haefausts called as he reached the top of the gangplank, about the same time as Arabi, a thickset man with a number of mean looking scars on his face and a collection of weapons dangling from his belt, stepped up to cast his shadow over Logan. "It appears that you've trouble listening. Not a good quality for a budding archeologist, I'm afraid. Now, I don't paticularly care who you submitted your papers to, but it wasn't me, so I humbly suggest that if you don't want to spend the trip being pulled along in the dingy by yourself, I think you'll kindly hand your little toy over. Do I make myself clear?"

The other two crewmembers, Pallas and the young lad Ibsun, the ship's mechanic, stirred uneasily. They hoped this kid had some wits about him, and wouldn't cause a fuss over a rather simple thing...

Moran grinned slightly at Haefaustus's comment, an innocent look on his face, "I would never dream of insulting you in such a way..." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a very small GPS device. It was no larger than a quarter, and when pressed displayed their current heading (east) and their current coordinates (lattitude/longitude). It was quite impressive, really. Not only was it very small, but it was exceptionally accurate, as the coordinates were exact to the second. He shrugged slightly and flicked it off the dock where it slowly sunk to the bottom of the river. He smiled a charming smile, pulling back his vest to fully reveal the hand-cannon he called a pistol, "I assume that this is fine?"

He didn't really wait for an answer, and seemed oblivious to the conversation between Tara and Logan; he simply walked up the plank and onto the boat. After boarding, he milled about, murmuring softly to himself about the vessel, as if he was trying to figure out the specific manufactorer, not just the nation of origin. "...very nice..." was a commonly heard phrase to those who bothered to listen to his mutterings. He was pulled out of his reverie by the goings-on over by the gang-plank. Sighing and glancing over he saw a mountain of a man looking down at Logan. He sighed again and walked back over, placing his hand on the giant's shoulder, well, elbow, gently but firmly pushing his aside a little. Leading Logan back to the dock, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Logan... the first thing to keep in mind is that sailors, especially native ones, are highly superstitious. Now, personally, I don't care if you've got a device or not. Nor am I concerned about paperwork. What I am concerned about is having this expedition scuttled before it even starts. Remember, we're here to find out what happened to Tara's father. Also remember, that I don't know this man, he's doing this as a favor to Prof. Craven's memory. Please, hand over whatever it is he's yammering about. He's probably worried about River Spirits, or some such nonsense." He paused slightly before continuing, "And a ruse would probably not work. My guess is that he's got a psion."

He clapped Logan on the shoulder in a friendly, professorial way before turning and walking back over the gangplank and onto the boat again, trusting that Logan would just hand the thing over. Otherwise he'd have to leave him behind, which was something he'd rather not do.

Before the professor had spoken to him, Logan was about to explode. Being confronted and intimidated by river-rat scum was not something that young Master Logan was accustomed to. He looked at Captain Haefaustus, the massive sailor, and the men around him. More than anything right now, he wanted to show these lowlifes what happens when you mess with a Grey.

Tara's words help to calm him...she looked worried, and this saddened him. He wanted, more than ever, to hold her and promise her that everything was going to be alright. Tara gave no indication she wanted to be held...well, except maybe by Moran. Logan hed seen the way she regarded the professor, and sometimes it seemed to be in a way that was less than scholarly.

When the professor took him aside, Logan could detect a hidden message behind the words he was saying...and for some reason, at this moment, he decided to trust Moran.

"Yes sir, professor...as you wish." said the young student. He took off his wrist unit, and threw it in the same direction as Morans GPS unit, landing with a muddy splash. He then took off his belt, where the hidden transmitter was located and tossed that in the murky river as well. His porta-tune player followed the belt, then his sonic bug repellant...Logan was tossing every piece of electronics he had brought with him overboard in frustration.

"There ya go! That's it! I've got nothing else...or do you want me toss my clothes in as well?" he started to unbutton his shirt. Seeing the completely unimpressed look of Moran, Logan decided that his point had been made. Mumbling a quiet "sorry, professor" as he walked by, Logan made his way past the glowering crew towards his cabin. Once inside, he sat on the hard cot in the small room, and realized how very lonely he was.

All he ever wanted was to find out what had really happened to his own father: Moran seemed to be a key part of the answer. Now, his burgeoning feelings for Tara were clouding his judgement somewhat, and he was making personal decisions that benifitted her needs, not his. With Brick being missing, and Logan with no way of finding him, things were becoming bleaker by the moment.

It was obvious that Tara really didn't care for him...oh, she was polite in his presence, but there was no real warmth. Moran was dismissive, secretive and regarded Logan with suspicion. Now, he was surrounded by river trash that looked at him as if he was their next meal. The one person he could count on in this life was now missing, presumably somewhere on this infernal planet.

This seemed like a good time for a drink, and Logan pulled a flask from his bag. The first sip burned, and the second helped to numb some of his pain. By the time he had drank half the flask, the young student was crying quietly to himself.

Tara watched the proceedings from her spot, and smiled slightly as Logan threw all this electrical goods into the river, although she was a little surprised he had not just disposed of the one item that he had been requested to lose. She was also a little stunned to see that he was carrying so much stuff. She guessed that was the difference between being rich and not being rich.

She waited until he was finished, and was just about to walk over and thank him, when he suddenly picked up his things and left. Her eyes followed his retreating back, as he disappeared inside. She moved over to where Moran was standing and smiled sadly. This was not the start she had envisaged for the journey’s beginning. She had hoped that travelling in the footsteps of her father would be a happy event.

“I never realised there was so much on the market for electronic safety.” She grinned, trying to buoy up her mood. “I really must go shopping more instead of living in the past. I might even be able to upgrade my abacus.” Laughing, she left Moran talking to Haefaustus and moved in the same direction that Logan had taken, but stopped as she neared the cabin unsure whether her arrival would help matters.

Walking to the far side of the boat, she found a raised spot and sat herself down, allowing her gaze to fall on the other bank of the river. She could not really believe that she was sitting here, preparing on her first real adventure. Of course, the trip to the Temple with Moran had been her first experience in the field, but this was different. Now she was fully fledged, and out to prove herself worthy of the diplomas and awards she had picked up on the way. This was her chance to prove to the world and herself that she was good enough.

Her gaze lingered for a moment, lost in her thoughts. She did not know how long she had been sitting there before she became aware of things going on around her. It could not have been too long as the boat was still docked. She turned her head, and looked over to where Moran and Haefaustus where still standing, then her thoughts turned to Logan, and she decided it was time she tried to make amends.

Getting up from her makeshift seat, she headed back into the direction he had disappeared to. She raised her hand to the door, once she finally reached it, ready to knock, until she heard the muffled sounds from inside. She placed her ear lightly against the door, and listened for a moment, then tapped gently. “Mr Grey? Logan? Are you there?” She waited to see if he would answer.

The sound of her soft knocking brought Logan back from the stupor he had drank himself into. He was lying on his bunk, and the near-empty flask rested on his chest. Raising himself slowly, the young man swayed into an upright position, and staggered towards the door. Running a hand through his ruffled hair, Logan opened the cabin door. Tara stood there, her eyes widening as she took in the dishevelled appearance of her travelling companion. With a slight slur, Logan acknowledged her presence.

"What can I do for you, Ms.Craven? Oh, let me guess: on behalf of you and the Professor, you think it would be better if I just got off the boat right now, and went home....right?" Logan barely paused, giving Tara no time to respond.

"Fine, if that's what you want...I'll go. Keep the money I gave you, in case you need it later. I truly hope you find your father, Ms.Craven..." Logan said the last while turning his back on Tara. He felt suddenly very weary, and slightly seasick from the motion of the docked ship, and the strong alcohol he had drank. He sat down dejectedly on his cot. Tara still stood in the open doorway, staring at Logan as he reached for his silver flask.

Standing in the doorway, Tara watched Logan in silence, slightly stunned at not only his appearance, but by his reaction as well. She felt a little annoyed with herself that she had not followed him straight away, rather than let him get into this condition. If she was honest with herself, she never had him down as someone who would hit the bottle in times of trouble, he always seemed so sure of himself.

Once he had settled down on the bed, she walked in the room and sat down beside him. “Actually, I’m not here to tell you to leave, I just came to see how you were.” She smiled wearily. “I know I was a bit off out on deck, but this trip means a lot to me. More than you, or even Moran for that matter, will ever know.” She lowered her eyes and looked at her hands that were resting in her lap.

When she spoke again her voice was little more than a whisper, as if she was talking more to herself than Logan. “I’m so afraid that I’m going to fail, and in doing so, I’m going to lose the one chance I have for doing something for my father’s memory.” She laughed awkwardly. “I know I’m not going to find him, but I need to know what took him from me, so I can close his memory.”

She raised her eyes to his face, looking at him in profile. “I guess I can be a little grouchy sometimes. And I should warn you that it’s safer not to talk to me before I have my first coffee in the mornings.” She pulled a grimace. “Other than that, and when I’m a little concerned, I’m actually an okay person…or so I’ve been told.” She reached over and took the flask from his hands. “And it’s probably best not to touch this stuff before sailing.”

Her words calmed him instantly, and even seemed to settle his stomach a little. Logan looked at Tara in appreciation, and let her take the flask from his hand. Suddenly, he realized he had been taking out all his fears and frustrations on the wrong person, someone who already had her own demons to deal with. He felt ashamed of himself, and desperately wanted to make things right with Tara.

"I promise to stay away unless I'm armed with a pot of java," Logan replied, smiling sheepishly. "You might as well take this too...I was going to give it to you later anyways..." Logan reached into one of his bags and pulled out an unopened 40 ounce bottle of Slochnaya Vodka. Tara had been drinking that particular brand the first night Logan had met her, seemingly a lifetime ago.

"Listen, I'm sorry for what I said before...I get stupid when I drink. I don't want you to worry anymore, ok? I promise not to give you, or this mission, any more trouble." Logan levelled his gaze at her, deadly serious.

"You won't regret bringing me." His stare defied her to object.

"We WILL find your father."

Keeping his rifle trained on the creatures that were being dragged into the village center, Enuti approved of the way in which they were bound. Ankles tied, knees bent double, their wrists tied to the opposite foot, and a wad of cloth in the mouth, held by a thick vine.

All the binding was done with vines, of course. Rope was too expensive to waste on something like this, even if they were demons. Especially since the bindings would remain on them until the end. One could not leave them free, for the demons would damage the crops, and steal the children, and speak curses upon the village, hence the level of bindings.

Enuti, despite his foreign education, heartily approved of these precautions. He was a child of the tribe, after all, brought up in all its traditions by his father, who in turn was trained by his father before him, and his father before him, and back into the mists of time. Foreign education had broadened Enuti’s world view, but it had not changed his spirit, nor had it tried to.

Much had been offered, but Enuti had brought back only facts to the tribe, facts and knowledge and the wisdom to use them. The village was already prospering, and he had overheard some of the older men, on the council, discussing the possibility of him being elected to the tribe council, and perhaps one day being chief elder. He shook his head, and forced himself back to reality as they entered the village.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see the children peering out from behind their mother’s skirts in the doorways, trying to view the ‘demons.’ Enuti was not sure, of course, one never could be in these cases. But he, like all good members of the village, would trust the elders’ judgment.

The large firepit, in the center of the village had been being prepared for the cooking of dinner for the village in the monthly feast they always had on the day of the trading cog’s visit. Large wooden stakes were being carried into the unlit pit now, and erected upright at the direction of the elders.

Catching Janr’s eye, Enuti raised one eyebrow in silent question, and his friend nodded at him, moving closer. “What is it, Enuti?” he asked quietly, still holding his spear and speaking out of one side of his mouth as he watched the two captives.

“I’m not sure these creatures are demons. They look more like soldiers to me.”

Everyone in the village knew of the soldiers Enuti had seen while he was gone. Bright uniforms, dark uniforms, hundreds of different types and sights. Technician soldiers and grunts, generals with chests full of medals, men of honor and courage. The soldiers had been everywhere. Real soldiers, of course, not the fake soldiers that lived here, that dressed up in pretty uniforms and acted like they could do anything.

These men, then, according to Enuti, looked dangerous, but very human.

“Enuti, if they are demons, wouldn’t they pick forms that could protect them, strong forms?”

“True, Janr. Maybe I’m just worried.”

Janr laughed softly. “And you’re the one with the rifle.”

Enuti smiled, and looked back at the pit. The stakes were up, and Janr stepped forward to help them drag the two creatures to the stakes, to tie them up to them. Even demons could not be burned laying in the dirt.

Taking hold of the bottle, Tara smiled. “Thank you.” This time it was her turn to grin sheepishly. “I don’t normally drink, unless I’m feeling a little stressed.” She cradled it in her arms. “But who knows what’s going to happen on this journey. I might have finished the whole bottle before we get off the boat.” She looked at the label and then laughed. “Ah, now I recall where you saw me drinking it. That was a particularly stressful day; not to mention long and tiring.”

She got up from the bed and stood in front of him. “It’s nice to have you along. If for no other reason than the coffee you can bring me every morning.” She whispered conspiratorially. “It’s one of the best ways of getting on in life, making the coffee. How else do you think I got a pass from Professor Moran?” She winked at Logan, knowing full well what the rumour mongers had spread about her.

“You might feel better if you sleep this stuff off.” Shaking the flask, she indicated what she was referring too. “I’ll catch you later.” She smiled and took her leave, not wishing to dwell on whether or not her father was still alive to find.

Private "Red" Shirtt was unconcious, and blissfully unaware of the uncomfortable position his body was now in. Brick however, had been aware of every knot and binding being tightened around his body. The vines were coiled and strong, and bit into the big mercenary's skin. Brick was suitably impressed by the expertise the natives showed with the vines, trussing him up securely, like a pig before a slaughter. He quickly banished that thought.

Brick had been observing the different faces around him, and it became obvious who the leaders of the tribe were. One native in particular struck him as having a particularly intelligent glint in his eye. Brick filed that knowledge away for a later time.

They were being dragged back towards the center of the village, Brick could see dirty faces staring at him, fear and revulsion fighing a battle with curiousity. They were tossed unceremoniously to the ground, and Brick began to sweat when he came to rest against the hard surface of a man-sized wooden stake. He realized that he was in a lot more trouble than he'd anticipated, and that things were fubar'd.

Brick began straining at his bonds, trying desperately to escape, or at least be noticed by the natives...somehow, he had to get them to understand him.
He began to make noises as if he were waking up, and rolled himself into a very uncomfortable kneeling position.

Logan watched her leave, feeling much better than when Tara had first arrived. He decided to take her advice, and sleep off the booze and start afresh in a few hours. He undressed, removing his sweat-soaked clothing. He locked the door of his cabin, and slid a chair under the doorknob for extra protection. For some reason, that made him feel safer. So did the sleek and deadly looking pistol he slid under the blanket with him.

Logan was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Still cradling the bottle in her arms, Tara emerged back on deck and breathed in deeply, pleased that she had managed to remove one worry from her mind. She really did not want any disharmony during this trip. She looked over at the professor and smiled to herself, as she moved back to the makeshift seat she had found earlier. Sitting down, she placed the bottle beside her and opened her bag.

After rummaging through it for a while, she finally found the item she was looking for. A little journal that she would fill as an account of the trip, so that when she returned home – even though in the back of her mind she feared she might follow too closely in her father’s footsteps – she would be able to give her mother some idea of Professor Craven’s last expedition.


We have arrived at Naduibi, and have been greeted by our guide, Haefaustus. Some time during the journey I must ask him how he knows Father. It’s always nice to hear from people who had contact with him, it seems to keep him more alive somehow. He becomes more than the man who bounced me on his knee and take me around museums.

From first impressions of the man, he seems to know what he is doing, and has obviously been doing his job well, as he seems to have a bit of money. I cannot tell you how relieved I was, when I saw his boat wasn’t a wooden wreck. It actually looks very stable and reliable. I’m actually sitting on board now waiting for the off.

Professor Moran seems relaxed, although it is very had to tell with him. He and Logan Grey, who is also accompanying us, just threw hundreds, no thousands worth of electrical equipment into the river. Some fisherman is going to get a very strange catch.

I was a little worried about Logan for a while, I don’t think he’s used to roughing it. Perhaps some time away from his creature comforts will be good for him. Still, it must be hard going from having everything to sitting on, what must be to him, a rickety old boat. Still, I really do think he will get to prove himself on this trip. If not, I just hope he doesn’t kill us all.

Naduibi is just as I expected, some backwater location, with jungles and little wealth, all which will probably disappear as we travel up river. I just hope there aren’t any cannibal villages and ancient temples around. Not sure I can go through fighting big bads at the moment, but should it arise, I think we might be lucky again. I do trust the Professor with my life.

Putting down her pen, she yawned tiredly. It had been a long day, and she knew that it was not even anywhere near time for sleep. The sun was still high in the sky, and she did not want to throw her sleep pattern. She returned the journal back in her bag; her page marked with by the insertion of the pen, and stood up. Moving closer to the rail of the boat, she made her way around to the bow of the boat, and looked down the river towards their destination, a little trepidation growing inside her.

The danger was close by, and the Tepak-Daru trembled in anticipation. If Tara had been holding the wickedly-sharp blade, she would have felt a small vibration, as if the sacred knife were alive. In a way, it was. It waited patiently for the time in which it would be needed.

Moran didn't even bother to hide his frown at Logan's display. Instead he just slowly shook his head and wandered onto the ship. He hoped tantrums like this weren't going to be a common event, he really didn't need the headache. He'd tried to reason with the kid, tell him is was the captain being superstitious, but it didn't seem to work. He shrugged and left everyone to their own devices. The trip would take awhile, and they'd cool down on their own. Besides, it wasn't his job to hold everyone's hand and make sure that nobody's feelings got hurt. Muttering something about people needing to act their age, he scanned the ship, taking in the structures and layout.

Heaving his shoulder slightly to adjust his pack, he looked at one of the cabin 'buildings' towards the center of the ship. He glanced around, seeing that everyone was largely busy with other things and jumped up, landing on the roof in a soft crouch before walking to the center of it, sitting down and digging through his bag. He sighed slightly, hoping that nobody was paying too much attention to him. People tending not to jump ten feet straight up, and he mentally kicked himself for forgetting that he wasn't alone. He shrugged, pulling out his laptop and getting to work. People had seen him move too quickly, or be too strong before, and the muscle-weave story always worked.

At any rate, he flipped out the small laptop and started working on a few reports that he had to write, sending them off into the ether to bounce off a few satellites and eventually make its way back to the university, his sponcers, and suchwise. After finishing, he kicked back a little and watched the sky as the final prep was being done for their trip.

The group was startled with the larger creature moved suddenly, and began to make noises. Janr jumped slightly back, as did everyone else, but he was the first one to overcome his fear. He jabbed towards the demon with his spear, tearing open the front of the clothing the demon wore, just enough to make it stop, perhaps, not wanting to impale it. Demons, should, after all, be burned alive.

Beside, Janr did not even know if running the creature through would kill it.

Elder Munrit was approaching now, and four men, Janr included held the creature at bay with spears all around, while four more men tied the smaller demon to the stake. Elder Munrit cut open its shirt, and began to smear paint upon it, preparing it for cleansing, painting symbols onto its skin in a deep, thick red paint.

Then it was the larger demon’s turn. It was roughly thrown up against the stake and tied there, matching its companion. Elder Munrit, finishing his designs, turned to it, the knife gleaming wickedly in the failing light as he approached the, unbeknownst to him, awake mercenary.

Mercifully, Red Shirtt never awakened, and was unaware of the impending danger he was in. His head lolled to the side, eyes fluttering, deep in an unconcious stupor. Brick watched as the natives tied the young man securely to the stake. Then it was Bricks turn.

Rough hands grabbed him, dragging him to an upright position, ignoring his frantic movements. The tribesman began binding him to a second stake, while others placed deadwood around the base. Things were gonna get hot in here, and Brick needed to act fast. He saw his chance when they ripped his shirt open to paint the mystic symbols on his chest.

He had left most of his gear at the base of a tree near the village, not wanting to frighten the natives with his technology. He had kept some emergency supplies with him, just in case. One of them was a small flashbang, a device used to stun an enemy. It simultaneously blinded an opponent, and if close enough, damaged their eardrums severely. It gave an attacking team the time necessary to take down an enemy.

Brick could activate it with a bit of pressure, but even if he did, it would only be a small respite: he was tied to the stake and not going anywhere. He redoubled his efforts, straining at the tightly-bound vines. They were stronger than plasteel handcuffs.

In desperation, Brick caught the eye of the native with the rifle, the one that he had marked as 'intelligent'. They looked at each other for a long moment, and Brick tried to convey his meaning with his gaze. He hoped the native would recognize the humanity in his eyes.

Enuti merely looked away. The powers of demons were legend beyond fact, including for some, the ability to read minds, or curse with a glance. He shifted his gaze from the large of the creatures to the smaller, which still appeared to be unconscious.

And not only that, as Elder Munrit sliced open the demon’s clothing, the old man stood in Enuti’s line of fire. Soon, the painting began, and the creature would be able to tell that the thick ‘paint’ was indeed the blood it so resembled. Admittedly, goat blood, but there was little way for the demon to know that.

They were not savages, these villagers, merely people of strong beliefs. They were modern in many ways, but yet retained the beliefs of their fathers, and their fathers, and their fathers before them. They had no reason to change their ways that had worked for generation upon generation.

As Elder Munrit finished his work, he stepped out of the fire and knelt upon the ground, and began to lead the people in prayer. The majority of the villagers dropped to the ground, and began to pray with him.

But not all. Demons were a tricky bunch said the ancient tales, and some, including Janr and Enuti remained watching, ready to stop them should they try to break free as Beneli and another young man approached with flaming torches held high.

OOC:

I want to apologize to everyone involved for this now (well, except Gawdly). But I simply cannot ignore the last post.

As to that, Gawdly, what in the heck are you thinking?

General Points

1) Pulling people from what is usually known as ‘ass-space’ to save other characters’ lives is generally considered a poor RP idea, especially at the last minute.

2) How did Venda reach the center of a fairly large village without being seen by one of the people? I mean, it isn’t like you can house a few hundred people in one room huts in a small area, not with animals and such.

Specific Points

1) You’re telling me 37.5% of the Razor team survived the total obliteration of their insertion vehicle (which doesn’t appear to have been a nice modern tech airplane) by falling on muddy ground? And not one of them is injured enough to impair movement?

2) Also, in their emergency haste to abandon their aircraft, they all managed to get something approaching full weapon’s kits?

3) You need to stop writing other people’s characters for them. IE, don’t ever describe my character’s reactions for them again. It’s very bad RP etiquette.

4) The effect you describe from the ‘Screamer’ requires some sort of ultrasonics. That’s not man portable in any way, shape, or former in modern tech, which it was clearly stated this thread was supposed to remain, I was under the impression.

5) Were flash bangs to go off, it would probably startled the natives guarding Brick (who happened to have bows with drawn arrows pointed at him) into firing. Even I wouldn’t miss a man-size target at twenty feet or so with a bow and arrow, much less if I’d done it my whole life and got my food that way.

6) I gave you two opportunities for Brick to speak before I stated his mouth was gagged. Two. You failed to take either of them, instead, the mercenary acted like he had passed out.

7) You gave me absolutely nothing to save Brick in any way that was ICly possible. He had no visible weapons on him that you described for my natives to see. He did not speak English except to the little girl at the very beginning. You didn’t even tell me until it was way too late to come up with anything that you wanted to save him. I simply assumed, as Hack stated at the beginning of the thread, that all the characters were expendable (except Tara and Moran). If you had given me anything, I would have worked with you, but I had to know early in the storyline.

~Ainulindalion, Sentient Peoples’ Player and Master God, among other things. (Okay, not really).

<<OOC: Real quick, so we can get on with this:
1: I agree, and I often type before thinking things through. Call me "noob".
2: She is sneaky, sneaky...like all women.

I won't defend this at all. You are right. I can only claim "noob", since this is what I am. I AM learning though, and I thank you for pointing things out to me. I want to learn, I think I have the basic tools, so I will keep trying and listening to those who have experience, like yourself. Thanks.

I will delete my last post...it never happened. Brick and Red are still tied up. If you want to find a way or reason to speak with Brick now, great. If not, feel free to kill them both. I have a feeling Logan won't be living through this either.

My apologies, fellow storytellers...I will strive to improve.>>

Logan's head was filled with cotton and swamp-mud, and his mouth had a small animal sleeping in it. As he awoke from his alcohol-driven snooze, he realized that the he was in a ship, far away from home. He began to regret his actions of a few hours ago, when he had raged at the one point of brightness in his life: Tara Craven.

He hoped that he had not gone too far and burned the fragile bridge that was forming between them. Slowly rising from his hard cot, Logan went to the small sink and splashed some tepid water on his face. It didn't help. He walked slowly towards the cabin door, feeling somewhat more stable as the minutes passed.

The fresh breeze helped to clear his cobwebs, and Logan stepped out onto the main deck of the ship. Sailors scurried around him, doing the things that sailors do. A few of them gave Logan sidelong glances, most of them with darkness and suspicion in their eyes. The young grad student ignored them as best he could. He looked out over the bow into the thick forests on the edge of the river, wondering what happened to his bodyguard and friend, Brick.

The sun reflected off of the water, not clear and blue, more a muddy brown, but the surface still glistened slightly, sparkling with tiny diamonds. Tara smiled, as she watched the light dance along in front of the boat, almost as if they were highlighting the way to their destination. She caught sight of a twig floating along the surface, her eyes following it as it skimmed the edge of the boat, before travelling down river, and would finally end out at sea. She moved along the edge of the boat, keeping track of its journey until she could not follow it any long, as she reached the stern.

Gaze still on the twig, she watched as suddenly the water behind the boat began to move swiftly, before it churned as the engines roared into life. The twig never making it to the sea, as it was sucked up into the wash. Turning around, Tara watched as the sailors and Haefaustus began shouting around the boat as they steered the boat out into the river.

Moving back down the deck, she let her eyes pass over the others; noticing for the first time that Moran had vanished. She assumed that he had retired to inside the boat, probably with a book opened out in front of him. Smiling she returned to the spot that she had already began to class as her own, and settled down on the makeshift seat.

She opened her bag, and pulled out a book of her own, leaning back on the wall of the cabins, she found her place, and began to read, but soon her eyes were once again focused on the far river bank, as she watched the land slowly move by; her thoughts lost on what was to come.

She didn't know he was there, and right now Logan preferred it that way. He watched her, reading her book as the breeze ruffled the pages, and her hair. He suddenly felt even worse than he did before...how could he get angry at this dream of a woman? The sun caught in her hair, creating an aura of light around her. She was...simply stunning.

He wanted to talk to her: about this trip, about her book, about her dad, about her dreams. He wanted to listen to her voice, and smell her gentle scent, and protect her from all that was wrong in her life. He wanted to tell her what was growing in his heart, how she had affected him, what she had started to mean to him.

In the end, he settled for just watching her.

Moran had accidentally fallen asleep atop his cabin, feeling something like Snoopy. At least his cabin roof was flat, as opposed to the painful-looking peak of a doghouse. Sitting up and yawning mightily, he gazed around around the boat, taking a few minutes to full realise exactly where he was. He had always enjoyed boats rides; he found them exceptionally relaxing.

Hopping off the cabin, he meandered around the boat, talking to a couple of the sailors. Wandering over to Tara, he glanced at her book and smiled, "Well... we're now underway. Any thoughts so far?"

[OOC: Okay, just trying to figure everything out here. Haef, Moran, Tara and Logan are all on the boat, sailing down/up the river to $Random_Third_World_Nation. I'm assuming SP's natives are along the way, and that we'll be stopping to pick up Enuti. Sui should be at our port of destination in $Random_Third_World_Nation, and we'll pick him up there. I got all of this right?]

Haefaustus stood in the wheelhouse, quite casually steering the Rynn out of port. It was a bright and hot day, so few of the fishermen were about, making navigation easy. A few minutes later and they were clear of the shallows. Smiling to himself, he opened up the throttle, making the boat lurch back a little as they accelerated.

Moran, oddly enough, had been sitting just above and behind them on the roof. Haef didn't see when he climbed up, but assumed he'd found the ladder. Pallas sat with him in the wheelhouse, Ibsun was below in the engineroom, and Arabi stood on the prow, binoculars in hand, leaving the deck empty. Pallas shook his head; Haefaustus was enjoying himself too much, idly gunning the Rynn's engine some more and causing another lurch.

"You'll be the death of us, gunning those engines like that," the older man commented jokingly.

"Or maybe just you old man," he laughed back, enjoying their usual conversation. "Or maybe not, if Ibsun hasn't done a good job with the transmission. Better to test it out here in open waters, eh?"

Turning at the sound of Moran’s voice, Tara greeted him with a smile. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, before answering. “To be honest, I can’t believe we are here.” She shook her head slightly as if trying to force the fact that this was real into her head. “You have worked wonders for me.” Turning slightly, she looked back out towards the river and watched as the boat moved upriver, her thoughts flooding her head, before she once again focused on the professor.

“I’m also a little worried. I really don’t think Logan is handling this trip too well.” She did not turn to look at Moran. “I don’t think he’s used to being on his own. I left him in the cabin in quite a bad way.” Not wanting to go into any details, she left out the details, becoming distracted from her topic as she felt the boat pick up speed. “I get the feeling our Captain is either in a hurry to get rid of us, or there is something huge chasing us up the river.” She let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. She wanted more than anything for this to be a successful trip for so many reasons.

[OOC: Okay, just trying to figure everything out here. Haef, Moran, Tara and Logan are all on the boat, sailing down/up the river to $Random_Third_World_Nation. I'm assuming SP's natives are along the way, and that we'll be stopping to pick up Enuti. Sui should be at our port of destination in $Random_Third_World_Nation, and we'll pick him up there. I got all of this right?]

<<OOC: Dang, I hope so: I'm following you!>>

Logan watched as Moran approached Tara, speaking quietly. The smile and laugh that his words produced made her shine, and once again Logan felt a pang of jealousy. Well, Tara was a special woman, and Moran was her hero. You could see it in her eyes. On the other hand, he himself was just a spoiled, rich kid who hadn't accomplished anything with his life.

Yet.

He wanted to prove himself to her, become her hero, her rock, the person she would turn to first. Moran stood in the way of that, for as long as he was around, Logan would always be in his shadow. That too would have to change soon.

Logan remained where he was, hearing them laugh, watching their warmth and wishing he was welcome. Sadness and resentment fought a war within him, with no clear victor.

Yet.

He was tired of this, tired of being alone, tired of watching from the sidelines. Logan moved from his spot towards the professor and Tara, approaching them quietly from behind. He was dismayed to notice just how comfortable they looked together.

"H'lo professor...Tara...would this be a good time to review the mission parameters?" he tried to keep his question as professional as possible. He wanted to show them that he was all business.

Turning at the sound of Logan’s voice, Tara’s brows knitted questioningly. She had not expected to see him up and about so soon, especially after the way he had been in the cabin. He obviously had not been drinking as much as she had imagined. Smiling she shrugged slightly.

“Well, I can’t speak for Professor Moran on this one, but ‘mission parameters’ seems a very strange terminology for the expedition.” She laughed lightly, as she imagined them armed to their teeth in body armour and about to infiltrate some high security facility. She could not help wondering if he had spent too much time around the wrong kind of people.

“The plan of action…” She looked at Moran as if seeking confirmation as she spoke. “Is to travel upriver to the last place my father was sighted, or at least his last known location, and continue his work.” Turning back to Logan, she looked at him as if she was surprised he did not know this already. “After all, that’s why we are here to finish the work of Professor Craven, and see exactly what it was that brought him to this jungle.”

Sighing heavily, as she looked between the two men, she waited for one to add is agreement of the situation or the other to question them some more.

Moran nodded to Tara, "That was my understanding, yes. The port that we're heading to was where Prof. Craven was the last place he was seen in 'civilization'." He smirked, "Well... such as it is at any rate. Hopefully someone in that port will remember where he went, or have an idea what happened to him. If not, we play it by ear." He shrugged a little, "I wish I had more to go on, but it's not like we have too much to go on. I don't really know where the temple he was looking for is," he smirked a little, "kinda why it's called a 'Lost Temple', after all." He sighed, "Since we're kinda hoping on luck with this, we don't really have a clear cut plan. I should know more once we get to the port and have a chance to talk with the natives."

He felt the flush of heat rise up his neck, shamed by Tara's rebuke and Moran's...ridicule? It seemed that everytime he opened his mouth, Logan slammed his size 11 foot right in it. Still, he wanted to keep her talking, to keep her connected to him somehow.

"I guess I'd like to know more about your father's work, and what brought him here originally...unless you and the professor would rather be alone?" This last was said as innocently as possible, Logan not wanting to insult Tara in any way.

Tara ran her hand through her hair, pushing the loose strands that were flicking against her face out of the way. She looked at Logan for a moment and smiled. “During this expedition you will not learn about my father’s work from works alone, you will be doing it for him. Walking in his footsteps.” She frowned suddenly as her words sunk in; making her wonder if they too would disappear from the face of the planet.

“As to what brought my father here, who knows? My father was not one for imparting his plans on his family.” She shook her head at the memory. “We were lucky to get the general location and a few letters of the trip. Then he would fill us in on his return.” She laughed lightly, then sighed.

She found her mind filling with the images of her father explaining to her mother that he was off on another trip, one to a jungle and possible temple. She remembered the way the professor’s wife barely battered an eyelid at the announcement; it was hardly the first of its kind. She had asked far more questions of her father, who always tried to put her off, in a way trying to kill her desire to want to follow him, but instead igniting the fire that lead her to her choice of career.

Focusing her attention back on Logan, she frowned slightly, probably reading more into his words that he had intended. She could not help thinking that he thought her and Moran were lovers, just like a lot of people seemed to. Sometimes she wondered why she did not just take the professor to her bed and proved them all right. But she said nothing and her expression revealed nothing of her thoughts.

She yawned slightly, the activities of the day beginning to catch up with her, but she would not sleep until night fell. The quicker she worked to native time the better, she really did not need jet lag to contend with as well as the problems that they would more then likely face.

"I see," said Logan, noticing her yawn, "thanks for that, at least." He shoved his hands into his coat and pulled out a cigar, cupping his hand to light it. The wind made it difficult, but eventually he got it lit. He took a puff, and turned to go, his growing paranoia telling him he was not wanted. Tara's yawn was an obvious sign.

"Well, I think I'll take a tour of this fine old tub...I guess I'll see you later." Logan walked away towards the other end of the ship. Passing the stairs leading up to the second level, the young grad student decided to go up. Reaching the top, Logan could see the large windows of the control room, and the movement of the sailors inside. He decided that any company was better than no company at all, and walked over to the open hatchway, peering inside.

The burning points of light bobbed closer to the two bound mercenaries as the native approached, their flaming torches held high above their heads. Beneli stopped before Brick, avoiding eye contact, while the other young native stopped at the base of the unlit fire built around Red’s feet.

The prayers stopped, and the kneeling villagers looked up, perhaps as if daring the demons to do something more, to try and stop them. A moment of complete silence, before the burning brands were shoved downward into the piles of tinder and kindling, lighting the fairly dry wood immediately.

Enuti lowered his rifle, and the men with bows and arrows lowered their weapons as well, no longer feeling a need to cover the demons as Beneli and his partner stepped back from the fires, the first elements of the fuel wood beginning to catch. It was a jungle hardwood, burning at nearly four hundred degrees, enough to boil flesh and incinerate skin and even synthetic clothing.

The cries would begin soon, no doubt, the demons begging their masters for escape, for help, but none would be forthcoming from their demonic allies. Demons were not known for banding together except as trickery.

More wood was catching now, and the hardened, quickly fashioned stakes were beginning to smoke as well. Enuti squatted down, bending his knees, resting the butt of his rifle on the ground, as he stared into the flames, Janr bending down beside him. Beneli joined them a few moments later as the flames began to lick up towards the sky, reaching into the heavens.

Enuti began to pray. “May the sun protect us in the day, and the waters in the night. Let not the moon wan before its time, and may the darkness be held at bay. Let the jungle nourish us, and keep us strong, so that we may return to it when it is our time.”

The cries from the fires had stopped now, though they continued to burn higher and hotter, perhaps as the demon’s essence released hellfire into the flames.

The children were sobered by the display, and most had vanished into their huts now, their mothers attempting to comfort them.

Young couples, those without children, were responsible for the food preparation for the feast, for every month, when Anthony came on his boat, there was a feast that night. That was undoubtedly where the goat’s blood had come from, for goat and cattle were the most common meats. No doubt there would be a great stew, steaming and smelling delicious, heavily spiced, with fermented drinks and fruit juices, fruit sweetened breads for dessert, and vegetables of many types. The village ate together this night, once a month, a source of fellowship, of companionship, of community.

Games were usually played, dances danced, songs sung. But Enuti did not see them being played or danced or sung tonight, for tonight was a dark night, a time when the demons had come, and fun was lost in life, no doubt to return with a new day.

The fires continued to burn.

Frowning Tara watched Logan walk off, a little confused about how she managed to get such a response from him. She had just explained to him what she knew of her father, when just thinking about him hurt. She replayed what she had said and even after she had finished she was still unsure what had happened. It would seem that if she wanted to keep Logan in a less reactive state, then she would have to watch what she said.

She turned to Moran, and shrugged slightly. “I don’t think I will ever get the hang of trying to please everyone.” Shaking her head, she moved over to the rail of the boat and looked at the river rushing passed beneath them, then raised her eyes to the bank, watching as villagers and natives made their way about their business, as children ran along calling out to the boat, before they were lost into the distance.

Blinking several times, she fought back another wave of tiredness. She did not want to take herself away from the sights that were flashing beside them, afraid that as she slept, she might miss something that would help them find this temple or some such that had possessed her father so much.

Moran shrugged slightly, "Then don't bother. What was it that Aesop said? 'Those who try to please everybody please nobody'?" He smiled warmly at her, "It really is impossible to please everyone. Hell, it's impossible to simply not piss off anyone." He glanced at his watch, pressing a small button which caused their exact location to pop up, before releasing it back to showing the current time. "As for him," he nodded in the direction Logan had walked off, "well, he's young, and he's trying. Too hard, one might argue, but he's trying." He sighed, "You'll find that those who come from an exceptionally wealthy background often have trouble with adversity: witness his reaction to the captain's request before boarding." He rubbed the stubble on his chin a little, "Give him time. Chances are, he's about to have his acid test on this trip, and he may surprize you." He grinned slightly at Tara, "For instance, I remember a certain Grad student who almost slept through her first expedition."

“Ah, you are never going to let me forget that are you?” Tara laughed and shook her head, recalling the exact incident Moran was talking about. It was not hard considering she had not exactly been on a lot of expeditions, this was only the second. “I was jetlagged, and it was entirely beyond my control.” She continued laughing for a while, then became serious.

“I do understand that.” She pulled a wry face, as she looked at Moran. “I know I’ve upset more than a few people in my time.” She leant against the rail, and breathed in deep, the air along the river, even though it contained the sent of the jungle, was fresh and clean. “But a good team shouldn’t have an atmosphere. You have to be able to trust the people you are with, with your life if necessary.” She smiled, her eyes revealing that she classed the professor in this category.

Turning her head, she looked in the direction that Logan had taken. “I’m sure you are right about him, Professor.” She broke into a tiny laugh again. “You have been in this situation more than I have, so I will bow to your superior knowledge, and will hide behind you should you be proved wrong, on this occasion.” Her tone indicated that she was only half teasing.

Bored, lonely and worried: that was Logan's current state of mind.

Bored, simply because this tug was moving way too slow for his liking...he liked his fast cars, fast bikes and fast everything.

Lonely, because of the fact that he was a bit of a spoiled-jerk, and Tara and Moran both knew it, and treated him as such.

Worried, because he had no idea what had happened to Brick and the backup team, and because there was something about the Captain that he didn't quite trust.

He stood by the command cabin, the wind blowing through his dark hair. The river floated by calmly, the muddied water churning under the big blades of the propeller. He could hear the voices from inside, speaking in a language he didn't understand. Laughter broke out, the sound of old comrades, and Logan felt even lonelier still.

With the breeze came thoughts of his own father, broken images of the stranger that used to play catch with Logan. He was a strong man, a brilliant businessman who used his wealth wisely. The enemies he made were only through their own jealousy of the senior Grey's success. His real passion was archeology and anthropology though, and he spent more time in abandoned temples than boardrooms in his later years.

Then, suddenly, he was dead.

The body was never returned to Logan, simply because it did not exist. His father had fallen into a large crevice while climbing a small mountain, and his body was unrecoverable, so Logan had been told. Before his death, Logans father had shipped a small parcel back home, to his son's attention. It contained an ornate amulet made of unknown materials, which Logan now wore around his neck. There was also a hand-written note in his fathers script. It only had one small line of text:

"Moran is the one."

Making a brisk fifteen knots upriver, Haefaustus continued to push the Rynn upriver past dusk. He knew of a small town on the way where they could stop to refuel, and since it was probably the last stop where the locals had heard of 'diesel,' he wanted to make sure they'd reach it tomorrow. As night started to envelop the canopy around the broad river, he shut off the engine and weighed anchor. Continuing on in the dark wouldn't be very smart. After the stop tomorrow, he could only think of one more village where they could resupply, near the divergence...

The ship secured for the night, Haefaustus went to address the passengers. "Well folks, that's all for tonight. We've got floodlights and the like, but continuing on in the dark when we don't have to is, well, not a good idea. Anyways, there are three cabins in the prow. Mine, and two for guests. I'm going to insist Ms. Craven take one, of course. I'll let you two," he indicated Moran and Logan, "Decide who gets the other, and who's on a bunk in the hold with the crew. The four of us crew will be taking rotating watches, so don't be alarmed if you see or hear someone on deck. Alright?"

Logan had not realized that the cabin he had passed out in earlier was the only one available for the men of his group. He wasn't in a hurry to spend the night with a bunch of snoring, and most likely stinking, seamen, but he knew that Moran would probably insist on his own cabin. Logan cleared his throat and spoke up:

"Thank-you, Captain. I will bunk with your men, if they'll have me. Professor, Tara, you two take the rooms...I'll be fine with the crew. I'll just get my bag from the cabin." Logan turned, heading towards the stairs. He was proud of the way he handled himself, and realized that he felt pretty good, all things considered. He may not get a warm reception from the crew, but he hoped a few bottles of vodka might make them all fast friends.

Moran blinked in surprize as Logan quickly volunteered to bunk with the crew. It wasn't expected, and not especially required, but maybe it would be good for the lad. Give him a chance to spend some time with the 'unwashed masses' and see how the other side lives. Besides, private quarters would give him a chance to jot a few notes, and do some more recreational studying. Smiling warmly at Logan, he nodded, "That sounds good. I'll see you in the morning, Logan."

After Logan left, he smiled at Tara, "Have a good night, and enjoy your room. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" He then turned and shook Haefaustus' hand, "Thank you for your hospitality. I'll see you in the morning."

The cabin wasn't exactly luxury, but it wasn't a dump, either. After locking the door, he tossed his bag on the bed and started rooting through it, eventually pulling a smallish black book from the very bottom. The edges seemed to be slightly charred, and he handled it as if it were made of the most fragile Lalique crystal in the world. Gingerly opening the book, he started reading some of the strange characters; words that he had read numerous times before, and that he would likely continue to read religiously until he died. After studying the text for an hour or so, looking up nerviously any time a patrol walked by his door, he carefully replaced the book in his bag, and curled up under the bedcovers to get some sleep.

Watching as first Logan and then Moran disappeared, Tara wondered whether she should retire or hold off for a while, waiting for the darkness to claim the river. She knew that as soon as the light began to diminish, it would go into real night very quickly, being as there was no street lights along the river.

She moved over to the railings and looked over the river, wondering just what would be waking. In the jungle, a person could never be too sure what dwelt. She ran her eyes over the banks, and seeing nothing, she decided it was time to call it a day. She didn’t want to over sleep again in the presence of the professor; their first trip together had hardly got off to a good start.

Heading for her cabin, she entered and collapsed down on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and lay along the length, her head resting against the pillow. She yawned sleepily, suddenly feeling the pull of sleep. She stood up again, and began to undress, before pulling on a t-shirt for the night. Finishing off her preparations for bed, she slipped under the covers and pulled out a book, wanting to get a little reading in before sleep. She began to read, but was fast asleep before she reached the end of the page.

It was the light from the small portal that drew his eye, and Logan turned to look in, smoking his last cigar of the night. He had waited for the Captain to show him his sleeping quarters, but he was off on ships business, so Logan just smoked and waited, watching the night sky. As he looked in the small window, he saw Tara. She was beautiful, even at this distance. She disappeared from sight, and Logan took a last puff, and threw his burning smoke into the black river.

Tara appeared in the window again, this time beginning to undress. Logan watched momentarily, enraptured by the sight of her pale skin. He turned away suddenly, feeling ashamed of seeing her. He wanted to see her, to gaze upon her, but not like this. Never like this.

He took the long way around, bypassing her window. He reached the door leading down to the hold, and he assumed the men's quarters as well. He pushed the door open, and descended the rusting stairs. He heard voices coming from the end of the hall, and went towards them. Around a corner, a door was open and the voices, rough voices speaking in the language of this land, were coming from within. Logan stepped in and looked around.

"Uhm...hi guys...don't mind me."

The noise was deafening, filling the clearing with a blood-curdling scream. In the middle of the circle, to perfect to be natural, lying on a moss strewn rock, Tara looked up into the star sprinkled sky, though she was not gazing at constellations, she was praying hard. Around her she could hear the rustling to fabric, brushing against bodies and the ground, the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, and the waking cries of nocturnal animals coming to life as the moon made its slow journey across the sky, a full eye in the night.

The area fell quiet, barely the sound of breathing could be heard, as if someone had taken away sound. The lack of noise was more eerie than the scream that had shrilled in the darkness. Head turned from left to right, her heat beating loudly in her chest as her fear arose, breath heavy and raspy. She tried to move, but her hands and feet were bound. Just in her line of sight, she could see dark figures moving in the shadows, just as a soft chant reached her ears, the voices oddly soothing in their gently prayer.

Eyelids began to feel heavy, pulling the shades over her eyes, as she fought desperately to keep them open, knowing that she needed to stay awake to stand a chance to fight. She clenched her fists, sending her nails digging into her palms, the pain enough to cause the charm to break, freeing her spirit to fight.

Nearer now, she could make out the details of the figures as the approached, cloaked and hooded, looking like walking wraiths, faceless and genderless, a phantom shape. Their voices rose in song, growing stronger and stronger, willing her soul to give in, to give itself to them. She wriggled more, the binds cutting into the flesh of her wrists and ankles.

Suddenly the cry filled the air again, seeming to be a million miles away, and yet strangely close, it was then that Tara realised that the sound had been ripped out of her own mouth; the scream had been hers, more powerful as her fear began to take over.

Protect yourself with fire.

The voice, soft and yet commanding, familiar and yet not, filled her ears, making her feel calm, taking her focus from the sound of the chanting, which was now beginning to reach fever pitch, raw and wild. Again Tara found herself falling under its spell, as she began to give up her struggle, the pain easing as her movements ceased against the binds.

Protect yourself with fire

Again the voice cut into her thoughts, breaking the hold of the strange words, alien and yet understandable. The cloaked figures were now completely surrounding the dais on which she lay. Sacrificial lamb to some god forsaken cult, a strange glow coming from within their hood, not eyes, more reflections of a burning realm, flicking in the depths of bleakness.

Overhead the sky grew dark, the stars disappearing as blackness shrouded the world, stealing the light. Not an ordinary shadow, it had a depth that pulled at the soul trying to suck it right out of the body. Mouth open again, Tara tried to scream, but this time there was nothing but silence, as her eyes fixed above her, the night beginning to take shape, the shape of a nightmare.

Suddenly the hooded worshippers feel humbly to the floor, their heads bowed low as their chant reached its crescendo, mixing with the guttural rumblings of a beast that could not have been a creation of god. Her eyes widened, her mouth open as if caught in a silent cry, frozen by the sight before her. Two hands formed and appeared to reach, coming closer to her body, the glowing red eyes of hell staring down at her hungrily as it prepared to kill.

PROTECT YOURSELF WITH FIRE!

A huge flame burst forth out of the ground around the dais, flaring and consuming the hooded figures, each of the thirteen gave up their chant as their screams filled the clearing. Not the sound of humans suffering, worse and more frightening. As they began to burn, their cloaks clinging to the burning flesh, their shapes were revealed. Gruesome and unreal, a glint of evil, paled in comparison by the beast over head.

As if fuelled by the master’s minions, the flames grew higher and higher, as they rose into the sky, engulfing the darkness in its grasp, as it through the area into light. The glare matched the sun in its brightness. Tara closed her eyes, knowing that the end was near, the heat building over her flesh. Then the noise took over her senses, as the beast entered its death throes, the earth trembling as the battle of light and darkness took place over head.

The brilliant flash, and the terrifying scream, and then the most chilling temperature swept over her body, the heat of the flames fading. She opens her eyes, and as if looking through a mist, she sees the flames change into the image of a man, one that seemed familiar, the face of a man she knew, as he slowly began to fade.

“Fa-”

“-ther!” Tara’s eyes flew open, and for a moment, her breathing was hard and panting, as she fought to suck in air. Her skin was glistening in the faint glow of a light, a sheen of sweat covering her body. She could feel her body as her nightmare and fears slowly departed. Swallowing hard, she reached over to the clock, and read the dial, it was still the early hours of the morning, still a long time left to sleep. Not that she wanted to return to the dream she had just had.

Sitting up in the bed, she ran her hand through her hair as the last of the demons returned to the darkness. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Picking up her book, she glanced down the pages, wondering if it was wise to read any more before trying to get some more sleep, knowing that she would pay for it in the morning if she did not. She picked up the bottle of water that rested on the cabinet and took a swig, before replacing it and lying back down. She turned off the light, and a long time later finally drifted back to sleep, this time her dreams were pleasant and she rested peacefully until the morning light shone through the porthole.

The cold, glaring eyes of the sailors told Logan everything he needed to know: closing his eyes with this lot around would probably be a mistake...he may not open them again. He backed slowly out of the bunkroom, mumbling a vague apology. He hurried up the stairs, suddenly needing some fresh air. The night was warm and humid, and the sky was clear. Logan decided to sleep under the stars, where the only risks were bug-bites and rain.

He found a secluded area near the prow, protected from the wind, and any prying eyes. He unpacked his bedroll, laying it out on the wooden deck. The small packsack would do for a pillow. Logan lay back, staring up into the glistening universe above. Lighting a cheroot, he smoked slowly, listening to the sounds of the river.

Waking up this morning to the steady movement of the boat seemed strange, and it took me a while to realise where I was. But once my eyes focused on the interior of the cabin, the memories of my journey here was soon recalled. I spent some time lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of life outside. I picked up the clock and noticed that it was earlier than I expected. Obviously Haefaustus like to make the most of the daylight, the river being treacherous at night.

Finally dragging myself onto the deck, about an hour later – I’ve never been one to leave my bed in a hurry without good reason – I was not surprised to see the crew bustling about, and talking to the captain was Moran. I sometimes wonder if he ever really sleeps. I think it will be a long time before I wake before him, I guess it’s no wonder he catches the odd nap during the day.

Logan is up too, and not looking like he had the best of nights either. I feel a little guilty that I took a cabin, but I guess being the only female on board kind of warrants one. I’ll have to be a little friendlier to him, as I know I’ve not been particularly nice. But I don’t think he really understands what this trip means to me. It’s not so much finding Father, as I have long since given up hope of that. I just want to experience what he experienced, to see what he saw. And this is the only chance that I will ever have of sharing his life…



…The banks of the river are changing now; the further we go the denser the foliage is. The canopy is getting heavy, and on certain stretches of the river it sent us into complete darkness. It’s strange being able to sit here and hear the tropical sounds again; reminding me of my last trip with the Professor. I just hope this one turns out better.

Haefaustus has told us that we should be reaching a village in few days. Nothing spectacular, but the last ‘civilised’ place before the end of our journey – although I’m not sure that if deep in the jungle anywhere can be classed as such. As long as they aren’t cannibal, I guess we’ll be safe. Granted to say, I’m glad I’m not the biggest on board, so hopefully they’d only eat me once the others were gone – not a cheerful thought, best rid myself of that one.

Other that that, the journey has been quite quiet, still it is early days, and there is a lot of tension on board, where everyone is trying to weigh up everyone else. And although it is uncomfortable at times, I have to admit to finding watching the interaction quite entertaining…



…Oh, thank the stars for the chance to be able to put my feet on solid ground. I never thought I was a bad sailor, but it’s nice to be sitting on the bank. We’ve tied up for the night, and although we’ve been advised not to move away from the boat, stretching my legs on unmoving ground is most welcome.

I didn’t think it would be possible, but the further we go, the darker the area gets, and not just in the lack of light. The very air is oppressive. Of course, this could just be me dwelling on my last visit to a jungle, or perhaps the lack of sun, who knows.

Things haven’t changed much on the boat. To be honest, at times I think it’s getting worse. But then, when you are all sharing the same living space, it can get a little on top of you. That’s why I think everyone took the opportunity of stepping off the boat, to feel like you were getting away from everyone.

Not that I intend to stay off for long. Just looking around, you can’t shake the feeling you are being watched. And although I am sure most of the sounds that fill the night are regular beasts of the jungle, I can’t help feeling that there are some out there that I wouldn’t want to run into during the day, let alone at night.

Mmm, I can smell dinner cooking. One thing I will say for this trip, Haefaustus has definitely impressed us with his cook…



…Well, there is nothing like stretching out on deck, the sun beating down and reflecting off the river – yes, the river is a little wider here, and the canopy has stopped at the banks, allowing us a clear view to the sky, and a beautifully warm day it is too.

Everyone is making the most of this. Logan has been on deck looking around, before making himself comfortable with a book – I think it might be one of Moran’s but I can’t quite make out the title, thought the cover seems vaguely familiar.

And talking of the Professor, he is catching one of his brief naps. His book resting open against his chest, in a moment he’ll wake up and continue reading as if the sleep had never happened. I still wonder how he manages on so little sleep. I’ve even taken to returning to my cabin during the afternoon for an hour or so, but then I don’t seem to be sleeping too well.

I tried to speak to Haefaustus today. I really would like to know how he and Father knew each other. I guess he took him places on his boat, like he is taking us. I still can’t help wondering if he escorted him on this very same journey…



…If it was hard being trapped on a boat when you could get out on deck, being cooped up inside is horrendous. I can see know what people mean about cabin fever. If this rain doesn’t stop soon, I think we will all go crazy. It’s been lashing down since last night, and only the crew has been brave enough to venture outside and that was only for the essential running of the boat.

Logan has spent a lot of his time to one side, I can’t help feeling he’s trying to avoid the Professor for some reason. I don’t know what he has against Moran, I’ve always found him a nice man, and a very good teacher. Perhaps he downgraded Logan on something, hence his need for this trip. Who knows?

Fortunately we are nearing the village, or so I overheard Haefaustus mention to Moran this morning. As much as I’ve enjoyed this portion of the trip, I will be glad to use my legs again for some proper walking – not that I’m looking forward to lugging my things around. Thankfully I managed to pack light.

The area outside doesn’t look to inviting. It’s once again grown dark, and the trees and vegetation seems to have grown a little thicker again. I couldn’t imagine living this far from other people. But I guess it’s what you get used to…



…Our destination is within sight – well, not actually as the river is too bending for that, but within a few hours we should have reached the village. Apparently we are stopping briefly for supplies, but at least it will be a chance to walk around.

The village is steeped in its belief of demons, so we have been told to be careful. I will be sure to carry my gun once we disembark, just in case, even though Haefaustus also mentioned that the village is used to visitors from down river. There’s no reason to start taking risks now. I would at least like to reach the end of our river journey, which should be another couple of days down from the village. At least they aren’t cannibals, so that’s one good thing.

As far as the journey has been, I think we are getting alone famously – well, kind of, I mean, we are all still talking, and I think getting to appreciate each other a little better. There are still the odd tensions, but then they are around even when you’ve known people for years – rather than just someone you met only days before. Still, no one has been killed yet, which is always a good thing…



…I decided to stand at the front of the boat for the final stretch of the journey, so that I could get a first glimpse of the village as we arrived. The area had thinned out again, the shrubbery and canopy once again letting the sunlight onto the water, and brightening the surrounding land. It was a nice day for our arrival, and the heat on everyone’s skin had a positive effect on everyone.

Logan and Moran both appeared on deck, the Professor for once without his usual book – it makes him seem kind of naked. The crew has been running around making sure everything is ready for docking – not that I know enough about sailing, other than the brief time Father…but I digress.

Coming around the final bend, I’m not sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t just a dock, with no sign of a village in sight. Looking closely as we drew near, I could see movement in the bushes but there was no one to greet the boat, which I was surprised about, and regardless how hard I peered, I could not see the village, which was hidden off to one side, shielded by the foliage.

Despite my disappointment, I was glad to have at last arrived, even if my vision of sailing up to the village and being greeted in a friendly fashion by some awestruck natives, who treated us like gods did not happen. I really should stop reading that dreadful fiction…

As morning turned to day, then melted into the shadows of sunset and starlight, the boat continued to make its way down the murky river. Logan had spent most of his days and nights alone, watching the jungle roll by, reading some of the books he had brought with him. Professor Moran's adventures were rivetting, filled with action and intrigue, and sprinkled with dry humor throughout. More often than not, he had to remind himself that the stories were all true and not some fabricated fantasy.

When he wasn't reading, Logan would stroll the deck of the boat, avoiding the surly sailors as best he could. He had had the opportunity to speak with the professor alone a few times, but Moran seemed guarded and reticent to talk in great length about anything. His favorite moment was when he would come across Tara, her eyes closed facing the morning sun, a look of peace on her face. He would watch her for a few moments, and even approach and speak with her on occasion. She seemed less distant to him, and Logan wondered whether his stand-offish attitude the last few days had anything to do with that. Women were weird that way.

Finally, the Captain announced that they were getting close to their first stop, to pick-up supplies and passengers, so Logan prepared his gear for the landing. First, he changed into a crisp, new set of goretex jungle fatigues, custom-made for his long frame. He pulled on a pair of light-weight walking boots, lacing them up over his pants. From his bag he removed a webbed, paramilitary holster, strapping it around his waist. His father's .48 pistol gave the holster a solid weight on one side, balanced by the long Bowie knife on the other. He began to fill the assorted pouches with everything from waterproof matches to salt tablets and fishing hooks. On his head he wore large-brimmed Tilley, with a detachable insect mesh. All in all, Logan looked quite ridiculous.

Shouldering his pack, Logan lit one of his trademark cheroots, and walked briskly to the front of the boat. He saw Tara at her usual place, looking towards the bend in the river, packed and eager to make landfall. He shared her excitement, more than she was aware. Logan had his own reasons for being here, though now he had many more reasons to stay. He fingered the amulet under his shirt, feeling its cold hardness.

Moran came around the other corner, walking towards Tara. Logan let them say hello to each other, then approached the pair, greeting them both with a hearty "good morning!".

The group of children had vanished into the jungle when they had seen the boat approaching, and as it docked, and they saw the people moving about on, they ran towards the village.

Enuti was walking towards the edge of the village, when suddenly he was surrounded by a crowd of his students, mobbing him, shouting for his attention. “Talk slower,” he told them in common, not their native tongue. “Speak in Common.”

The children quieted down, and then one girl spoke up. “There… is… a… boat… at… the… dock,” she managed to work out.

Enuti smiled. “Very good. I’ll go meet them,” he replied, his speech alternating between Common and Native, and trick he used to make them pay close attention. “Go tell Janr and Beneli, then find one of the elders and tell them. I’ll go meet the people on the boat.”

As the children burst into motion again, Enuti broke into a gentle job, vanishing into the jungle. After a brief moment, he emerged on the dock and waved to the people aboard the boat. “Hello!” he called out in Common. Though he might be a bit of a shock to the people, dressed in a pair of cut off slacks, shirtless, with a loin cloth hanging down in front and behind, as his waving arm flexed his well muscled chest.

[OOC: Seems Indy's gonna be away for a bit, so we're gonna just drag him along and assume he's doing ship captainy things.]

Moran was in his usual attire of traditional expidition clothing and his Vest Of Too Many Pockets. He was wearing a pair of Righteous Shades brand sunglasses, looking quite calm and relaxed, quite a different disposition than he had when he and Tara were delving into the depths of the jungle the last time they went out. Of course, they weren't being chased by evil demons from beyond space and time, which probably had something to do with it. Strapped to his right thigh was the holster for the hand cannon (http://popularmechanics.com/outdoors/firearms/2003/9/top_gun/print.phtml) he used as a sidearm. While it couldn't be seen, Tara probably assumed that his small .22 was in its ankle holster. Since this wasn't their final destination, he'd left his pack back in the cabin, although he had made a point of nabbing a pocketful of gold and silver coins, as well as a tin of nails. You never knew which would be more useful and/or valuable to native peoples.

He smiled at Tara and Logan, greeting them with a cheerful "Hullo," as the boat docked. He hopped off the boat, onto to the dock, looking over Enuti, his face neutral as he wasn't aware of local customs. However, they seemed to know English, so he was less concerned about offending them. "Hello, nice to meet you!"

For the second time in fewer minutes than she thought possible, Tara stared disappointedly at the dock, or more importantly at the man who had just arrived. The man looked…ordinary, even dressed in clothing not out of place back home, except for the loin cloth. She sighed quietly, and once again berated herself for expecting a stereotypical village and native. They weren’t in the dark ages after all, and they probably had electricity and mobile phones by now.

Smiling back at Moran as he made his way passed and headed for the newcomer, Tara looked at Logan, shrugged while raising her eyebrows questioningly, then followed the professor onto solid ground.

Eyes roaming around her surroundings, she slowly made her way towards the two men, staying a little back as it was never immediately known what the natives view of women were. A lot were treated as second rate citizens, some even coming lower than the horses and cattle. So in an effort not to offend customs and cause them untold grief, she waited for them to acknowledge her, as she looked towards the direction that the man had come from, craning her neck to locate any sign of the village itself.

On the path, a little way back from where they stood, she could see a small group of children, chattering excitedly and yet there was tentativeness about them. As if they were used to the boat coming, but not altogether used to the people. The scene in front of her made her smile, and her eyes lingered on them for a while, a few of them meeting her gaze.

Pulling herself back to the people on the dock, she looked between Moran and the native, before turning back to the boat to see Haefaustus preparing the crew for taking on supplies and Logan making ready to disembark.

It was a relief to have solid ground underneath him, though his inner ear had not landed yet...Logan still felt as if he were on the boat. He came to stand by the professor, who was attempting to chat up the native. He looked around him, towards a group of children chattering amongst themselves in the distance. He began to stroll in that general direction, stretching out his muscles as he went. He stayed within a few yards of Tara, not wanting to leave her on her own.

Enuti smiled as the three explorers disembarked from their craft, and he grinned at them, extending his hand to shake with all three members of the party. “Welcome to my village. My name is Enuti.” Just then, he discerned the footsteps of Janr and Beneli walking onto the dock.

They, on the other hand, were dressed a little more like perhaps Tara was expecting. Links of beads and dark red loin clothes were their only clothing, and they carried spears in a non-threatening manner. “Er… hello,” Janr managed to get it out in broken Common, as Beneli said the same thing in their native tongue.

Enuti continued smiling. “We don’t often get visitors here. What brings you this far up the river, and to our humble village?” He addressed Moran, who, looking the oldest, must have been the senior of the three.

Moran smiled, noticing the two other natives approaching, but not worrying about them too much. He nodded slightly to Enuti, "We're on our way further down to the port of Aunabi for an... expedition. More immediately, however, I believe the captain of our vessel is hoping to restock some supplies." He looked over Enuti a little, "I wonder... are you, or anyone in your village familiar with a similar expedition a few years back, led by a Professor Craven?"

Shaking the native’s hand, Tara smiled at him before her attention was once more grabbed by the arrival of some more people from the village, these looked more like she had been expecting, and for a moment her mind returned to another native she had met in another jungle, the thought coming unbidden to her mind. Her eyes lingered on the image before her, feeling grateful that they seemed to be friendly; at least they were not pointing their spears just yet.

She stood back a little, her eyes flicking between the two newcomers and Enuti, fixing on the later as she heard Moran mention her father’s name. She looked at the younger man, her brow furrowed and her heart beating hard in her chest, as she waited anxiously to know whether her father hand stood on this very ground. For a moment, her mind and eyes played tricks with her, as her father’s image appeared further down the path, before she blinked away the sight, feeling momentarily saddened.

Turning slightly, she smiled at Logan, as they both stood between the dock and the greeting party. “This doesn’t seem so bad.” She removed her hand from near her pocket, where it had been resting against the gun she was carrying, finally feeling safe enough to cease caressing its protective shape.

Turning slightly, she smiled at Logan, as they both stood between the dock and the greeting party. “This doesn’t seem so bad.” She removed her hand from near her pocket, where it had been resting against the gun she was carrying, finally feeling safe enough to cease caressing its protective shape.

"Well, it could've been worse, I guess...they could have greeted us with a spear in the gut!" Logan's attempt at humor failed, as Tara did not seem the slightest bit amused. The young man drew a small cigar from his silver case, and offered one to Tara. He'd never seen her smoke, but it was at least an attempt to draw her out a bit. She had been very wrapped in her own thoughts for most of the trip, and she and Logan had spoken very little since his drunken episode. His face reddened at the memory.

"Would you like to try one?" he asked, lighting his own.

Enuti frowned slightly. "I've not heard of a Professor Craven, nor recall an expedition, but until just two years ago, I was away, out of the country." He looks at the two younger members of the team. "But no need to give up hope on my word alone. I will take you into the village, and you can speak with the Elders, and people who were here then." He shrugged. "I don't know what kind of supplies we can give you, for we are not highly advanced here, but I'm sure it can all be discussed over dinner. You are all, including the crew, invited."

Turning to Janr, he spoke rapidly in the native tongue, and when Janr started to argue, he brushed it aside, then turned back to Moran. "Janr will take you into the village. Not many of us speak any Common, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait for me to speak with the Elders, but Janr will explain it to them. I'll wait here for the boat crew, if they wish to come with us."

Moran nodded, "Yes, of course. You're most gracious, thank you." He followed the younger native back to the village, mentally kicking himself for not paying more attention. He should have expected the two natives to use their language, but it had been so brief, and so quick (and, again, he had not been paying attention), that he hadn't had a chance to catch any of it. He had hoped to at least take a guess at its general family, as it was, he'd have to wait, and hope to catch more.

As walked down the pier, he turned, glancing at Tara and Logan, "Mustn't keep our hosts waiting." He walked on, humming softly to himself, feeling reasonably relaxed, despite himself.

He followed the professor and Tara towards the village, looking around him as he went. The trees were massive, and reeked of history and age. The undergrowth was a snarled, tangled, impenetrable wall of green. Logan puffed his cigar, listening to the cries of the local fauna, and marvelling at the pureness of the air, despite his rank-smelling cheroot.

The language the small natives spoke was strange and musical, and Logan was happy that he was recording everything that could be seen and heard. The young man had a propensity for languages and cultures, and the tape would give him something to do, late at night.

One thing remained, and he wasn't sure how to go about it. The "civilised" native they met at the pier had spoken some Common, so he was probably the best one to ask...Logan needed to know if his bodyguard Brick and his team, had been sighted by the tribe. Since arriving, he had had no contact with the backup force that was supposed to be following the expedition. If they were around anywhere, Logan was sure that the hunters of this tribe would have seen some sort of sign. He would need to get Enuti alone later.

Staring for a moment at Enuti, still unable to get over his less than native appearance, Tara did not at first hear Moran’s words. She felt that she was in some strange dream where her memory was mixing up the facts and had placed items where they should not have been. Shaking her head, she finally came out of her reverie and saw that the professor and Logan had started off towards the village. A quick flash of a smile, and she moved quickly, trying to catch up with the others.

Unfortunately, her curiosity got the better of her, and as she made her way along the same route that her colleagues had, she let her eyes wander around her surrounding, much like Logan had, but she stopped every now and then to run her fingers over the odd leaf or twig. She had a friend back home who would have been in her element looking at all the tropical plants. She plucked a leaf off its stem and played with it as she slowly made her way down the path.

Once again realising that she had fallen behind, Tara picked up her pace, practically running to catch up to them before they reached the entrance to the village.

Janr led them skillfully and fairly swiftly through the brush towards the village. There were no obvious signs, and the canopy nearly obscured the sunlight, yet Janr found his way anyway, Beneli bringing up the rear to make sure no one got lost.

As Janr pushed the last branch aside, he revealed the village, row after row of huts of wood and sun baked mud, circling around a large open area with a huge firepit.

As he led them by the pit, they might noticed, if they looked carefully, the skeletons of the two mercenaries who had been burned alive as demons only a few days earlier. Janr began explaining to the Elders, who were gathered there by the fire pit, seated on a log, and couple of children, after moment, began to try and translate. Unfortunately, Janr spoke too quickly, and the children's common was hardly good enough to properly translate, and so, they probably just confused the new comers even more.

Fortunately, Enuti arrived a short time later, and began to sort things out, first turning to the travelers and asking, "What sort of supplies are you seeking?"

As they got closer to the native's camp, Logan felt a rumbling in his stomach, the first pangs of hunger. There was the faint smell of food in the air...barbeque? Whatever it was, it smelled delicious and Logan regretted not having breakfast. The village was small but neat, and bustling with the activities of the women and children. As they walked through the center of the encampment, they passed by a large, smoking fire pit. The young man glanced at it briefly, seeing what appeared to be bones. Probably a wild boar or something thought Logan, wishing he could've partaken of their feast.

Janr stopped in front some older natives who were sitting by a firepit, Moran by his side. Their temporary guide was engaged in a confusing dialogue with them at this moment, and Logan took the opportunity to look for Tara, who had been trailing behind the group.

She was coming up the path now, hurrying to catch up to the others. Logan smiled, and watched her as she walked towards him. Her face was slightly flushed from the morning sun and a sheen of sweat reflected off her skin. He thought she looked very, very beautiful.

Stepping through the last of the undergrowth that revealed the village, Tara stopped suddenly and just looked about her. There in front of there was a sight that she had been expecting to see from the boat. A typical native village, with huts and fires and people looking like natives. Obviously Enuti was not the norm in the area, and must have left the village to live in a town, which also explained his good use of Standard.

She gazed around the area, and listened as one of their guides spoke to a group of older and more important members of the group. She could feel them looking at them, as a group of children threw up words of Standard, but even put together, and adding the odd obvious word, the jumble made little sense. It was with a relieved sigh that she watched Enuti enter the village and moved swiftly to the group, taking over the negotiations.

Walking over to Logan, she cast him a smile then continued to look about her, trying to take in as many details as possible. She wondered if pulling out her camera and taking images would be acceptable; she would have to check with Enuti. She certainly did not want to upset the villagers, and cause untold trouble for the party.

She looked back at Logan. “Now this is what I was expecting.” She decided not to mention her silly fears about the village being filled with cannibals, as it did not happen. Well, initial indications seemed to show they were not that way inclined, anyway. “I wonder what they were saying about us.” She hoped it was not a discussion on the best sauce to eat humans with.

Moran had managed to lag behind the group, his attention snared by the pit that they passed. He kneeled down at the lip, peering at the scattered bones, frowning slightly as he did so. He recognized them as human almost instantly, oh dear... He was reasonably sure that they were in no danger, as he did trust Haefaustus, but he had to wonder why they would have human bones in a pit, and charred ones at that. Mostly, he was curious as to if this was a ritual sacrifice, or something else. He very much wanted to hop in and take a closer look, but he figured that would be highly offensive even if the immolation hadn't been part of some ritual. He sighed, standing and moving to catch up with the others when he heard Enuti's question.

"Er... I believe our primary concern is food," he tried very hard to put the thought of the pit out of his mind, "There may be some other supplies or items that Haefaustus needs, but..." his voice trailed off in a somewhat non-commital manner.

"Cripes, the professor must be hungrier than me!" thought Logan, as he watched the professor pick through the bones and ashes of the firepit. Spying a group of youngsters looking at him shyly, Logan approached them, offering some brightly-colored candy from his vest pocket. He smiled his best smile, and bent down to their level.

Listening for a moment as Moran discussed issues with Enuti and the village elders, Tara began to feel a little fidgety, in fact her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her, and she had seen the professor become very interested in something on his way in, and regardless what it had done to the cat, she let her curiosity win and decided to wander around and have a little look, while trying not to be too obvious about it.

Edging slowly away from the group, while keeping an eye on the other people present, she made her back towards the entrance of the village, and more importantly the spot that had caught Moran’s interested. She spotted Logan move away from the spot that they had been occupying before she continued slowly on her way, not wanting to draw attention to herself. As she went, she could not help thinking about how much she would like to have some pictures to add to her journal.

She smiled to herself as she watched Logan approached the group of children, the same ones that had greeted them on the dock. She wondered if they were really as brave as they seemed or whether they would turn and hide the moment one of the boat people got too close. She expected the latter. She remembered how brave she always tried to appear amongst strangers until one of them tried to speak to her, and some of the people her father introduced her too were very strange indeed.

Turning her attention back to her own endeavour, she made her way closer to the pit, deciding that taking some pictures of the village really would hurt no one, and she was sure that the people here must have see a camera before, she put her hand in her bag, and pulled out the piece of photographic equipment, using her position to get a good picture of Moran, the elders, Enuti and the village as a background. Feeling more confident, as no one seemed to be reacting to her, she took a couple more snaps, turning to the entrance, and capturing a few more shots.

From where she is standing, she spots one of the cutest children she has every seen, standing with its mother, watching what is happening from the safety of behind the woman’s legs, remind her of herself. She smiled as she caught the moment for her journal. Lowering the camera, she turned to see where she was, and noted that she had almost reached the spot that had so fascinated Moran, and had caught Logan’s interest briefly.

Taking the few steps necessarily, she raised the camera again, to bring back some images of a typical jungle village’s eating habits, and focused on the bones that was obviously the meal of several days ago, looking at the condition of the ash and bones in the fire. She frowned to herself as she wondered just what was so interesting to the professor, as she adjusted the telephoto lens, panning out to encompass the whole scene before her. As the close up of the bone began to bring into focus the actual shape of the skeleton, she felt her jaw drop and then the camera lowered from her eyes.

Oh f*ck...they are cannibals.

As much as she wanted to move, to take her eyes away from the scene in front of her, she could not move her feet. Her fear had taken root, and she stood rigid, unable to do anything other than stare at the sight before her.

The children were much like any other kids in the universe: curious, shy and hesitant around strangers. Still, the huge smile on Logan's face drew a few of the braver ones towards him, under the watchful eyes of their mothers. He passed out some candy to them, then proceeded to show them what to do with it. He sat on the hard-packed ground, cross-legged, showing them how to unwrap the paper, and popping a candy in his mouth to demonstrate what to do with the brightly-colored object.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tara taking pictures. A rush of emotion hit him, and he turned away. The smiling eyes of the children lifted his spirits immediately, and Logan began to act like a clown for the kids, doing magic tricks and taking pratfalls for them. The sound of the children's laughter carried throughout the village.

Enuti turned and muttered back in the native tongue the elders, and they all smiled and murmured cheerfully among themselves. After a few moments of listening, Enuti turned back Moran, and noted with surprise the other two had already wandered off. "Food we can supply, a little for free, though more for a cheap price. It's our primary trade commodity after all. Other things, well, we'll have to see what there is, but you're welcome to buy anything we have collectively that we can afford to sell."

He walked up to the professor, recognizing his type from his days at University. "Well, feel free to look around. Many of the children speak bad Common. I've been trying to teach them, but I'm not a very good teacher." Walking away a few steps, he chuckled as he watched Logan interacting with the children. They all knew how to eat the candy, and unwrap it. Enuti used similar candies as treats in his classes, mostly for good work, as a standard grading scale meant nothing to them.

Some of the children palmed the candy while others ate it. Candy was the child's money in the village, and they could get other children to do things for them with it.

He began striding over towards the fire pit, to see what the girl was looking at. Something had interested her, for she was frozen still as one of the pictures he had seen her taking moments before.

"Lo-Gan" said the young man, pointing at himself. He then pointed at the little girl who was squatting in front of him, sucking noisily on her candy. She smiled back at him, obviously oblivious to his words. He smiled patiently, and tried again.

"Me - Lo-Gan - you?" he asked, pointing at her again.

"It not nice to point." she replied, smiling back at him. Logan sat shocked momentarily...the kid knew some Common! Feeling foolish, he smiled back at her.

"Well, now...I'm sorry for pointing. What's your name?" he asked, enthralled by the bright-eyed youngster.

"Me is Anatuli...him show me words." she said, pointing at the guide known as Enuti.

"You are very smart, Anatuli. Here, this is just for you." Logan reached into his pocket, and pulled out a solar-powered sprinkle-light. Pushing any of the colored buttons on the small wand would send a small charge into the air, creating a multi-colored lightshow. They were all the rage back home with the younger generation, and he had brought a few as gifts and trading supplies.

The girl took it tentatively, and looked at it, engrossed by the strange object. He showed her how to use it, and was rewarded by a squeal of joy when the colors began dancing in the air. Logan rumpled her hair, and realized he was extremely content at this moment.

Finally coming to her senses, managing to talk herself back into some form of movement, Tara took several deep breaths trying to calm her nerves. She knew there could be a rational reason for there to be the remains of two bodies in the pit. Funeral perhaps…dinner. She swallowed hard trying to stop the bile from rising. She knew she should not get alarmed, after all, Moran had looked into the bit and must have seen what she had seen, and he then managed to walk over and have a decent conversation with them.

“It’s nothing. Pull yourself together.” She spoke softly to herself, trying to bolster her confidence. “They aren’t going to eat you. They’ve just eaten them.” She felt her stomach churning, and once again she fought down the urge to empty her gut.

She had to move away, look at something different. She could hear the children chatting away in the distance, obviously enthralled with something that Logan was showing them. And she knew it would not look good her lingering in this spot, and the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to her feelings on the matter. She once again picked up the camera, and placed it against her eye, altering her gaze slightly so she could not see the charred remains.

*TAGGED* This roleplay is a great learning experience...one of the better that I've read in the last week...keep going!

Moran nodded to Enuti, "Thank you very much. The Captain can arrange for our food, he knows best. For the other things, I guess we'll just keep our eyes open. I get the feeling there isn't a marketplace, per se, so where would be the best place to look?" He glanced at Logan and Tara, "They might want some souvenirs, and I wouldn't mind having a look myself."

He frowned internally as he noticed the look on Tara's face. It was clear that she had figured out what had been burned and was quite disturbed by it. He cleared his throat a little and continued, sotto voce, "Not to intrude or break taboos, but it seems one of my students has noticed what is in your pit there... may I inquire about that?"

The children rapidly tired of Logan, more enthralled with the toys and candy he brought than by the young man himself. He noticed a lovely young native woman, watching him surrepticiously from the corner of her eye. He gave her a winning smile, then turned and began walking towards Tara and the professor, who were talking with Enuti by the main fire-pit. Approaching the group, he could see that Tara looked nervous, all the color drained from her face. He stepped beside her, putting his gently on her shoulder.

"You OK, darlin'? You look like you've seen a ghost."

As the hand touched her shoulder, Tara swung round, the camera still pressed against her eye. Nerves getting the better of her – or at least her thoughts – she pushed the shutter button; the closeness of the subject causing a shadow, setting off the flash right in his face.

“Oh…my…Logan, I’m so sorry.” She lowered the camera, and looked at her companion, all but missing his words. “Are you alright?” In her anxiety of almost blinding one of the party, she momentarily forgot about the pit and her fears, although these were immediately raised as she saw Enuti and Moran looking in her direction.

She glanced nervously between the two. “Sorry, totally lost in the sights around here.” As she spoke she looked at the professor, her eyebrows raised in wonder. Turning her attention to Logan, she looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was focusing or had a huge dark patch in his vision. “Perhaps you should sit for a moment, until you can see properly.”

His smile disappeared in shock as the flash went off, blinding him temporarily. Rubbing his eyes, Logan instinctively took a step backwards, away from the bright light. He focussed on Tara's voice, trying to see past the black stars that danced in his vision. Taking her suggestion to sit, Logan put his hand out, finding nothing but air. He lost his balance, and accidently stumbled into a jagged tree stump. He grabbed his shin in pain, feeling the area swell up rapidly and angrily. Still blinded, he fell forward head-first into the firepit. He rolled around in the ashes, the sharp pain in his leg slowly abating. As his vision began to clear, he looked around realizing where he was, seeing the faces of the professor, Enuti, Tara and many villagers watching him, some with pity, some with humor and one with disappointment. He looked down, ashamed and dusty.

The empty eye sockets of a human skull stared back up at him.

Enuti turned back towards Moran at his last words, and frowned. "I would prefer not to discuss it, but..." His voice trailed off. "Since you are going upriver, I suppose I should tell you." He stepped close to Moran and spoke quietly so only the professor could hear him. "The bones are the remains of two demons, who came from upriver, we believe from beyond the sacred waterfall which normally protects us and this entire land. We killed them before they could cause any damage or call more of their demonic breathren, burning them at the stake. Many here are afraid that this is a sign of more horrible things to come." He smiled, and resumed speaking in his normal voice. "Which is why we are glad to see your boat, for boats always bring good tidings to us. We always have a feast when boats come to the village. As it's growing quite late, I hope you'll stay for dinner."

Enuti looked expectantly from Moran to Tara to Logan, sitting in the dirt.

He stared, then stared some more. The cracked, charred skull stared back at him, unyielding and accusatory. Logan felt the bile rising in his stomach, and the sweat break out on his brow. It took every ounce of control he had to not begin screaming at the top of his voice. It was not the skull that frightened him, though it was the first he'd seen in real life. What shocked him and drove fear and black pain into his heart, was what lay beside the human remains in the firepit. A bent and slightly melted set of military dogtags lay half buried under the ashes, but uncovered enough to see the name "William T. Kirkstan".

Otherwise known as Brick Kirkstan, his friend and bodyguard.

Perhaps to Enuti's surprise, Moran didn't respond how one might expect a professor from the 'civilized' world to act. His face showed no contempt at the 'savage' for being superstitous, nor was his look patronizing. The frown and lines of thought that crossed his forehead showed that not only did he believe that Enuti and his tribe had killed demons, but he also shared Enuti's concern. Moran mumbled something under his breath and made a quick sign with his right hand before whispering back to Enuti, "Thank you for telling me." He seemed to ponder Enuti's words some more before smiling brightly and raising his voice to normal levels, "Why yes, we'd love to stay for dinner. A good meal of something other than salt-pork sounds like a marvellous idea." He turned to Tara and Logan, "Come on you two, back to Earth, we've got work to do before dinner." He walked back towards the pit, "Tara? Logan? You two okay?"

Logan heard the professor as if he was calling down a tunnel, a voice echoing down wet-slicked walls. He was spinning, his world upended, his loss burning through him. He was now truly alone, his best friend and pseudo-father figure now nothing more than a bleaching skull sitting in a pile of ashes. He looked at Moran, white-faced, and nodded his head.

"Coming, professor." was all he could manage, the emotion beginning to rise and overwhelm him. He had to keep calm, keep his thoughts hidden, not share his pain with any of his party...Brick had been on a covert mission, following Logan and his group, and if the prof ever found out, the young man was sure to be removed from the expedition. He crawled out of the pit, hiding his face from Tara. She would notice his pain, he was sure...women were like that.

Tara heard the professor’s words, and for a moment stood staring at him, as they slowly worked their way into her brain. She could not get the image of the fire out of her head, and a quick look at Logan, she was beginning to believe that he might just be thinking the same as her. The sight of two skeletons amongst the ashes was enough to make any one think.

Dinner…Dinner? Tara for a moment felt very sick, as she turned her attention back to the fire and then to Moran, who did not seem to be the tiniest bit alarmed at the prospect, even though she knew that he had seen the remains. “Coming, Professor.” As she approached the natives, her mind began to fill with a myriad of thoughts, each one tripping over the one in front, as she tried to sort them into some kind of order.

Would Moran let us remain if we were in any danger?...He would never endanger us…You are reading more into this than you think…Was this my father’s final resting place?...Remember why you are here.

The final words were not spoken in her voice, but in one as familiar to her as her own. A voice that she had grown up with; a voice she respected; a voice that spoke wisdom.

Father?

Almost like a calming hand on her shoulder, her thoughts merged into order. Reflecting on what she had seen, she ran her eyes over those around her, taking in for the first time the natives, and seeing them for what she had been blinded too. There could be another reason for the bodies in the fire…a funeral. Putting her trust in the Professor, she decided to give the village the benefit of the doubt…she did have her gun if things turned bad.

He followed them, unseeing, his world a shattered crystal. The pieces of his new reality slid into place, and Logan tried to grasp the meaning of it, failing horribly. He knew he was now on his own, no backup to swoop in and save the day. The...monsters around him had killed the man he considered his father, and all he had left were his memories, and the burnt dogtags of the man he loved and respected. Trying to hide his building grief, Logan kept his head down as he shuffled forward, following Tara and Moran deeper into the camp.

For a moment, anger suffused his body, and he reached down and unsnapped his holster flap, feeling the comforting grip of the large pistol that hung at his side. He saw himself drawing out the weapon, and unloading the explosive slugs into the creatures that had brought so much pain to him. He swept his eyes around the camp, choosing targets, watching as they fell, drowning in their own blood. Suddenly, the little girl named Anutuli floated into his view, lined up squarely in his sights. Her innocence and gentleness beamed from her smiling face, and Logan let the pistol fall, unable to bring pain to the young native girl. With that, his dream of vengeance ended, and he returned to the reality of the present, his pistol still undisturbed in its holster.

He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and found himself drawing parallel with Tara. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, feeling a rush of unbidden emotion flood through him. He barely knew the beautiful grad student, but had fallen into a deep and unconditional love with her. He realized that he could potentially feel a pain stronger than the one that ran rampant through his heart right now. If anything happened to Tara, there was no way Logan would survive.

He vowed inwardly that he would die before letting any harm come to her.

Enuti smiled as all the travelers gathered together at Moran’s call. “Would you like to tour the village? Or would you like to return to your vessel, while dinner is being prepared? I believe we’re having spit roasted beef, since we had goat when the trading cog was here a few days ago.”

As he looked expectantly from person to person, the semi-silence was broken by the lowing of a cow, as she was pulled from the jungle by a pair of natives tugging on woven lines. Dinner, apparently.

Moran was sorely tempted to try messing with Tara's mind. She was obviously concerned about the burned humans, and he was pretty sure he could reinforce the thought that they were about to dine with cannibals. Wasn't a very nice thing to do, but you had to take your chances to mess with people when you could. After all, things were pretty calm now, only Saint Toad knew how bad they would get as the search for Prof. Craven picked up. After all, as basic as this village was, it was probably going to be one of their lasts tastes of civilization (such as it was) for quite some time.

Unfortunately, as he was weighing the pros and cons of such an action, any chance was shot by Enuti mentioning the cow. He smiled a little, "Well, personally, I've been on that boat long enough for now. I'd prefer to stay in the village, if it's all the same to you."

The sigh that escaped from between Tara’s lips, when she saw the cow being dragged into the village, was long and maybe a little louder than she would have liked, but so great was her relief that she really cared little if anyone overheard. The smile that grew on her face was enough to brighten her face, and her eyes sparkled, as she suddenly let out a laugh.

Almost at once she realised how foolish she had been, and once again she berated herself for falling into the trap of many a movie. A jungle village did not mean cannibals; her last expedition with Moran and the meeting of the natives there should have taught her a thing or two, and merely looking at Enuti, who was a very strange mix of native and city dweller, should have told her that despite the spears and other weaponry these people were not as bad as she might have thought, even if she could not totally shake the image of the skeletons, or give them a reason for being in the pit.

Walking up to Moran, she smiled, seeing in his face a hint of some mischief, wondering exactly what he was thinking, while at the same time trying to decide if her could read her thoughts, and had been a silent witness to her paranoia. “I agree, beef certainly sounds a nice change.” She raised her eyebrows playfully, and strode purposely after Enuti as he led the way.

She cast a glance at Logan, who still seemed a little the worse for wear, and appeared more than a little distracted by the village, but then she assumed it was not often that he got to mingle with people who probably survived for a whole year on what he probably had in pocket money as a child. She shot him a smile then walked over to Enuti.

She approached the villager with enthusiasm. “A tour of the village would be most welcome. Would you mind if I took some photographs?” As she spoke, she brought the camera up to her eye and pretended to push the button in explanation, forgetting that he has most likely seen one before.

Stumbling along behind them, Logan tried to arrange his thoughts. He squeezed the dogtags in his hand, the sharp edges cutting into his skin. The pain brought clarity, and something new to focus on. He knew his face was white, the blood drained since the discovery of the remains of his bodyguard and friend, Brick. Tara and Moran were smart, and observant: Logan needed to put on his "game-face", lest questions began flowing his way. Composing himself mentally, Logan plastered a fake smile on his face and stood protectively near Tara as she took pictures, his hand laying casually on the handle of his big pistol. He glared at Enuti the native, memorizing his face and vowing that soon, there would be a reckoning. One thing that Brick had taught him, and that was very appropriate here, was the concept of "an eye for an eye".

All good things come to those who wait.

At that moment, Logan fell down dead, a sniper's bullet in his skull. Doctor Freud drew the bolt of his sniper rifle back, 'Ack, it is better zis vay'

This has been an OOC post

At that moment, Logan fell down dead, a sniper's bullet in his skull. Doctor Freud drew the bolt of his sniper rifle back, 'Ack, it is better zis vay'

This has been an OOC post

Logan suddenly began fantasizing about having sex with his mother, and really wanted to retreat to the womb. He was not dead, just in need of psychoanalysis.

(my way of saying IGNORE to the good Doctor...)

My friends,

Sadly, Real Life will be kidnapping me for the next few weeks, and I will be travelling to San Francisco, Las Vegas and San Diego on business. I will have very limited access to the net, but I will try my darndest to get on and post.
Gehenna and Hack can control Logan while I'm gone. I return Oct.30, and will post my ass off at that point. Have fun, stay well and RP ON!

I can, and will be posting ALL DAY Friday, Oct.15

Steve (Gawdly)

OOC: Eh, no big. I'll be on vacation from Oct 19th - Oct 27th

Enuti smiled at the young woman, and shook his head. "There's no problem with you taking pictures. But if someone hides their face or turns away, please don't take their picture." His gaze next fell on Logan, and he frowned as he saw his posture and expression, his eyes becoming slits. "Is there something wrong, Mister Logan? You look... unwell."

Absently shaking his head, he smiled once more. "This way for a tour." He gestured around them. "As you can see, most of the buildings here are private dwellings." He pointed to one small shack over at the edge of the village. "That one is mine," he stated with obvious pride. "Built it myself when I returned from university." Next to it was a large, wallless structure, which was only a roof, and second shack the same size as Enuti's. "That's the school where I teach the children." He grinned to them. "There isn't really much to the village. If it weren't growing dark, I'd show you the fields we carved out of the jungle, but, well..." He left unspoken the swiftly descending tropical night, shadows beginning to race across the ground with the sinking of the sun. "Feel free to wander about. Don't get hurt, or hurt anyone. Give a shout if you need something. I need to talk to the elders some more. What did you say this Professor Craven looked like? And how long ago did he come through here?"

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tara smiled as Enuti gave his permission and conditions for her to take pictures, understanding totally that the villagers may not be too happy or comfortable with the concept of photographs. People had classed lesser things as frightening and dangerous, and she really did not want to upset anyone while she was here. She might be armed with a gun, but there were more people in the village more than capable of killing her before she even cleared the gun from its resting place.

Following behind, taking pictures of interesting details, and some of the villagers, Tara moved through the village, listening to Enuti as he shared information about the various buildings around them. She could tell as he spoke about the school, how proud he was to be able to bring a piece of the town back with him, and be able to impart his knowledge to his people, enabling them to communicate with people from outside the village.

As the tour drew to an end, Tara stood somewhere between Moran and Logan, her camera now hanging idle from her hand. She looked at Enuti as he mentioned her father’s name, a glimmer of hope enveloping her body. “He’s about Moran’s height, a little older; he has brown hair, normally tidy but possibly not on his trip.” She creased her brow as she began to rummage through her bag. “I have a picture. It’s a few years old. We haven’t seen him for two years, that’s when he left on his expedition.” She looked at the photograph for a moment, before handing it to Enuti.

Hope has an aura that glows around those that have it, and Tara was lit up like a neon light as she passed her fathers photo to Enuti. Again, a feeling of protectiveness surged through him, and it became very important to him that her hope was never dashed. As she spoke with the native, Logan realized that something smelled...good. A rumble in his stomach told him that he needed to eat, and soon. He looked at the Professor, wondering if he was in the mood for a stupid question. It was hard to tell, but Logan decided to take a chance.

"Uhm...Professor? Are we going to stop for lunch anytime soon?"

The Professor, for his part, seemed to be simply observing. It was somewhat hard to read what he was thinking, but his eyes were scanning the villagers, possibly memorizing faces. His features were positively bland, something of a new look for him. Maybe he was tired.

Moran glanced at Logan, pulled from some kind of revere, "Hmm? Dinner?" He shrugged a little, "I suppose whenever our hosts are ready. Can't imagine that it'll be too much later."

Dinner was not overly long in coming. Certainly not more than an hour from the time the tour of the village finished. In fact, it was ready just as the last rays of sun vanished from the sky, and the village was merely lit by fire, burning on torches and in pits, though much smaller than the large pit used for cooking, the same pit where the bones are located.

The feast is eventually gathered there, much of village gathering in the large clearing near the fire pits, their noise covering the sounds of the jungle at night all around them.

In general the topics of the natives conversation ranged about the two students and their teacher, curiousity and good nature underlying their words. Enuti left the travelers on their own for the hour it took for dinner to be prepared, but he returned to the group to show them where to sit on carved benches about the central fire ring. He sat nearby.

Eventually, as the dinner moved along, through beef and chicken courses, and salads and fruits, he brought up Professor Craven. He had indeed come through a number of years before. No, the villagers had no idea why he had come. Yes, they would be willing to help any way they could. The Professor had seemed a good man when he had been there. Yes, they could send experienced jungle guides. Yes, Enuti could come to translate. Would they like to spend the night in the village, or return to their boat? Yes, they could be ready to go in the morning.

Surprisingly, Logan had a wonderful evening.

The roast beast was succulant, the fruits and vegetables fresh and aromatic, and the company was...pleasing. He had spent most of the dinner simply eating voraciously, and he noticed that some of the older women were smiling at his obvious delight in their culinary skills. After the last of the food had been removed, he watched as Enuti and the Professor moved off, having an animated discussion. Tara was across from him, also enjoying her meal, and entertaining some doe-eyed children. Their eyes met a few times, and though they seemed friendly enough to him, that's all Logan could see.

The natives offered him some of their homebrew, which was sweet, cloying and highly potent. He in turn, offered them cigars, and soon he was smoking and sipping, watching the sun disappear into the jungle. A group of young women came and sat with him, most around his own age. Some were quite lovely, all were scantily clad and it wasn't too long before he was making them all laugh and giggle. Somewhere in his heart, he hoped that their obvious attention would somehow make Tara feel jealous, if only for a second. He wasn't counting on it.

Tara worked her way through the dinner, not realising how hungry she had become until the first morsel of food touched her mouth, then she ate her fill, not wanting to eat more than her share, but wanting to eat as much as she could. It had been several days since she had tasted anything so appetising. The food on the boat was edible, but it was not quite what they had before them for this meal. By the time she had finished, she was not sure she would be able to move.

During the meal, she had managed to attract a group of children. In between taking mouthfuls of food, she spoke and played little games with them, showing them her camera, and let a couple of them take a picture, showing them their efforts on the little screen, as she watched them look at it interestedly.

Looking up, she noticed that Logan had managed to attract some followers of his own. Not that she was surprised, he was a nice man after all, and if they had any concept of wealth, they would be even more impressed. She cast him a smile, her eyes twinkling with fun, as she turned away not wanting to stare at him as he tired his luck with the young women who had gathered.

She turned her attention to Moran and Enuti, watching them as they spoke for a moment, catching the odd word here and there. Even though she did not catch the entire conversation, she got the general gist, and was sure at the end of it that the party had managed to gain a guide or two for the trip, which she was more than happy about. There was nothing like a native guide to show you the way, and for the briefest of moments, she recalled another native from another time, silently thanking him for his help.

Suddenly she let out a loud yawn, caught by surprise by her own tiredness. She looked at the other apologetically, and then smiled. “I think I shall be getting back to the boat.” She just managed to stifle another yawn. “If you will all excuse me.” Nodding her head in a slight bow to the Elders, she rose from her place. “I would like to thank you all for your help. You have been most generous.”

She cast another smile at Logan then moved over to Moran and Enuti, presenting her hand to the latter. “Thank you so much. Knowing that my father came this far gives me some hope.” She flicked her eyes to the Professor’s face, before turning back to the native. “At least I know we are on the right path.” After sharing a few more words of thanks for the meal and everything, Tara turned and headed back towards the dock.

Logan got quickly to his feet as he saw Tara leave, heading in the direction of the boat. Smiling down at his young fans, he made them understand that he would be back shortly. He jogged to catch up to Tara, settling into a smooth gait beside her. They said nothing, preferring simply to enjoy the quiet of the night as they walked. Soon, they had arrived at the boat, and Logan stopped at the base of the gangplank, wishing Tara a good nights sleep. She looked somewhat confused, and he didn't dare explain that he simply wanted to escort her to the boat, ensuring her safety. She would have been insulted by that, he was sure, so instead he simply smiled and said good night, turning back towards the camp. He would sleep a few hours in front of the fire, the hard ground motionless beneath him. Hopefully, he wouldnt be alone.

He picked up his pace as he saw the smiles of the pretty young native girls in the distance.

Moran talked quietly with Enuti, pleased that he would be willing to come along on their expedition. The native guides were also a tremendous boon. With those specifics delt with, he was more than willing to let the tasks ahead reside in the nebulous future, focusing on more immediate concerns; specifically dinner and sleeping. "I can't speak for everyone, but I'm willing to assume that we'd all prefer sleeping on dry ground, no offence to our Captain."

Dinner was fabulous. Aside from the fact that it was better than the preserved food they'd been living on, the native spices were quite enjoyable. Moran had always enjoyed sampling local foods, especially native food that hadn't been altered by needing to appeal to foreign tastes. After eating more than his fill, he politely excused himself and wandered the village. He reached into one of the inner pockets of his vest and extracted a Ziploc baggie, pulling a cigar out before resealing it and resecreting it in his pocket. He lit the cigar and casually puffed as he watched the natives and the crew mill about. Logan seemed to be interested in scoring, while Tara appeared to head back to the ship for sleep.

Of course the natives were far more interesting to Moran. As he smoked the cigar, he watched their interactions; it was like living anthropology. For a man who tried to piece together social interactions from the remains of civilizations, watching native people like this helped him update his models. Once he'd finished the cigar, he decided it was time to sleep, and he found himself a place largely out of the way, but not out of the safety of the camp, and settled in for a realxing sleep.

Evening falls; night follows; a new day

The next morning broke as the sun rose above the forest, steaming from the nighttime dew. It would be yet another scorching day in the jungle. The villagers were up with the sun, preparing things for the travelers.

Enuti was up even before the sun, as were Janr and Beneli, preparing to go on the trip. Unlike the day before, none of them wore traditional clothing, and instead were dressed in what looked suspiciously like military surplus camouflage. Each of them wore web vests over their outfits, and were outfitted with a large assortment of gear. Canteens hung from either side of Janr and Beneli’s belts, along with wicked looking combat knives and machetes. Enuti only wore one canteen, on his left hip, the place on the right taken up by an automatic, heavy caliber. Janr and Benli each carried their spears as well, along with a quiver full of bolts for the crossbows slung over their shoulders. Enuti, of course, had his rifle.

Draped around their necks were odd looking chains of bone and wood and flowers, good luck charms, or perhaps demon repellant. One of the young ladies in the village brought one to Logan out at the boat, while Enuti carried one for Tara. The elders, with Enuti translating, presented a charm to Moran. His was by far the most ornate, containing of all things a swastika, though not as the Nazi’s had made it, but something far richer in history that the horror that symbol represented. It was carved into an eight pointed star of some dark wood. Protection, it was explained. No one could go up the river more than a day or so without some form of protection from the demons that lay beyond the sacred waterfalls.

As for the supplies, the village provided the boat with easily ten days worth of food, in the form of fruits and meats, and helped find places on the boat to stow it away safely, and not interfere with operations. They definitely seemed to know what they were doing for sure.

By the second hour, or about eight o’clock in the morning, the loading was completed, the good byes were said, and the natives were ready to leave. They had even dragged a small canoe onto the rear deck of the river boat, and had it sitting there, tied down as well as everything else. Janr and Beneli made themselves comfortable, chatting with those members of the crew who spoke some of their local dialect, while Enuti idly sat by, watching.

It would have been hard to know they had come from the jungle, just looking at them, for they transformed well into people who looked like warriors. But then, when your ability to survive is a constant battle against the jungle, and when sometimes you must fight off raiding tribes, it could only be expected that you might know how to fight.

Admittedly, they were not trained, but a life time of experience backed them, and they were more than prepared to lead the way into the jungle.

…We are back on the river again, sailing towards our next destination. I have to admit I feel slightly easier now that we have left the village. Even if they aren’t cannibals, it’s still unnerving to think of them having burnt skeletons lying in their fire pit. I’m sure they have a good reason for it, be it a funeral or some sacrificial ritual.

I was grateful to Logan for walking me back to the boat. I’m not someone who is sacred easily, but I have to say I felt a little uncomfortable. I can’t say what it is that concerns me, but I have a feeling sleeping is going to be harder from now on in. It’s almost as if there is a black cloud hanging over us, which will grow as we follow Father’s path. And it is a path that I dread reaching the end of, for at the moment I have hope, but as we travel down it, I know that it will fade until my worst fears are realised.

We started off early this morning. Well, I say early, the boat was already alive when I woke up. Both Moran and Logan were on board when I woke up, along with Enuti and another from the village, who I have since learned is called Janr. He doesn’t have the use of Standard that Enuti does, but he has knowledge of the area, and I think at this moment that is much more important. Another from the village, Beneli is following along in a boat, carrying some supplies.

They presented us with some strange talismans. I don’t know what they are meant to ward off, but as long as they do their job, I’m not going to complain…



…Everyone seems to have settled back onto the boat, even if we would all prefer the feel of solid ground beneath our feet again. Not to mention the feast we had back in the village. The look on everyone’s faces when we sat down to the same old meals we had been struggling through during the first part of the journey. Still beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s better than nothing, just.

There seems to be a little tension in the air, I get the feeling that Logan is not very fond of the natives, or perhaps it’s the other way round. I hope that Logan didn’t do anything to one of the native girls during his evening alone there. I would so hate to see him wake up dead. We need everyone we can on this trip. I get the feeling once we get off the boat things are going to take a turn for the worse. It’s times like these I wish I had a god to pray to.

The three natives are taking it in turn to row up river, I really can’t say I envy them. I’m still waiting for some giant squid or similar creature to wrap its arms around the boat and pull us under. I wonder when I started to become so paranoid…



…Another sun soaked day, one that I intend to make the most of. I’ve been speaking to Enuti, who fortunately isn’t in the paddle boat today, and have asked him to tell me a little about the surrounding area. After speaking to him, I’m starting to think I would rather not have been told. I’m not foolish not to realise the dangers that lurk in jungles, but some of the things he hinted at makes me think we are going to run into something bad. I’m sure I have heard him mention demons and such to Moran on several occasions. I’m hoping it’s just a side effect of my over active imagination, but then, I’ve seen bad things before.

Everyone seems to be lost in their own thoughts, and apart from the brief exchange of words, it feels like everyone is becoming affected by their surroundings. I know that the further we travel along this river the more I wish I was back at the University. I have to keep berating myself not to be so foolish, but then Father was a seasoned explorer, just like Professor Moran, and he never came home…



…I am so looking forward to getting of this boat. The river has narrowed, and the banks feel so close than I would not be surprised to hear them scrape along the hull. The canopy has become thick, along with flora in this area. The whole river has become oppressive, like it’s trying to claim the boat in its green arms, which is not helping with this image of octopus that seems to be pushing itself into my mind. If I ever get on a boat again it will be too soon. I think I’ll walk back to civilisation.

The Captain has told us that we are a couple of days away from the end of the boat journey. That is several days too long…



…Just around the bend. Then we reach our landing spot. Oh, thank whichever gods are out there for small mercies. Elukjaha: the name of the beginning of the rest of your journey, and hopefully a nice place to rest before we hit the jungle properly. The more I think about it, the more I realise that staying on the boat isn’t all that bad, the jungle can throw so much more at us than the river ever has. Perhaps I was a little hasty in my dislike of the boat.

I’ve moved to the front of the boat, again hoping to see the village come into sight. I just hope that it’s in view unlike our last stop. We are almost there, the boat is beginning to move into a straight stretch of water, I’ll continue this once we land, I so want to see dry land again…



…We’ve docked, and once again the boat has been thrown into a mad state, as everyone attempts to gather everything they need in order to carry on the journey. Haef and the rest of the crew are going to stay with the boat, and be ready in case we have to leave quickly. That thought just fills me with more fear than nearly everything else on this trip, save perhaps the dead bodies back in Enuti’s village. Although I have since learnt that they were demons. I’m not sure I wasn’t happier thinking they were dinner.

Still, there is no point dwelling on the past when there is adventure in the future. I think I’m ready, I’ve stuffed as much as I can in my pack, and yet there seems to be so much that I’ve decided not to take with me. I’ve got the most important things, my gun and my camera. What more does a girl in a jungle need? Certainly not a hairdryer, although I have to admit I would love to see one just for a minute. It’s lucky I’m not here to pick up a husband, I don’t think I’d have much chance charming a demon with the way I’m looking at the moment.

Not that is really important. Finding Father is my reason for being here, or at least discovering just what he was after in this Hell of a nation. If I’m going to get anywhere with this search, I’d best stop wasting time here and get ready like the others, I don’t want to be the one to hold everyone up, I’ll start to get a bad reputation…

Moran was one of the first off the boat, having been prepared for the arrival. He was really starting to hate his time on the boat. Craven's old friend, the captain, was a respectable man, and the time passed peacably enough, but Moran was never a river rat. He far prefered to have solid ground under his feet, even if it ment that he was heading into a jungle full of gods knew what. He unconsciously fingered the amulet around his neck. The native had given it to him, and while he wasn't familiar with the script and shape, he wasn't one to spit on native beliefs. It might not help, but it certainly wouldn't hurt.

He looked around the new village they had arrived at, and was moderately impressed. If nothing else, it was the last civilization they were going to be seeing in a long time. Possibly ever. Best to not ponder that... He readjusted the bag over his shoulder and milled around a little, waiting for the rest of the group, and checking things out; seeing if any of the natives here might have an idea as to the (late?) Professor Craven's whereabouts.

Making her way back on the deck, Tara walked over to the railings of the boat, and gazed upon the village, grateful to be heading back to terra firma. Positioning her rucksack securely on her back, she made her way down the gangplank to where Moran was standing, appearing to be lost in thought as he took in his surroundings. Standing nearby, she remained silent as she watched the villagers milling around them, a few looking in their direction, but on the whole continuing with their daily routines.

“Good morning, Professor.” She greeted him cheerfully, a smile covering the sense of dread that seemed to growing over her as they moved further along on their journey. By the end of which, she should have some idea as to the fate of her father. “I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Just a couple of huts here and there, that’s what I was envisaging.” Her eyes continued to roam around, then back to the boat to see where Enuti was, sure that they would need him to translate.

Shifting her rucksack, she sighed as she adjusted its weight squarely on her back. There were some benefits to being on the boat, at least they did not have to carry their belongings around with them, but then what was exploration without some hardships? She stood, watching life continue around her as she waited for the party to gather on the dock.

He had spent the last few days revisiting his last evening in the village, the soft touch of Tendara's hands on him, her musky breath whispering words in a strange tongue, their meaning universal. In the morning, she had given him the talisman that he now wore around his neck. He had appreciated the gesture, though he had added to the pendant: Brick's burnt and battered dogtag now hung beside the clay and feathers, and Logan drew strength from its hard coldness.

As they approached their final destination, the young man joined up with his comrades to watch the approach on the village. Logan nodded to the Professor, who barely returned the gesture before turning away. Tara rewarded him with an honest smile, and he realized that though they had both been stuck on this small tug for days, they hadn't really seen each other at all. Logan had forgotten how beautiful she was, and was relieved to see that she was clear-eyed and rested, and the haunted look had faded from her eyes. He stood close by her, and was pleased when she didn't move away.

He could feel the air change, and the thickness of the tension around him. The journey was about to morph into something new, and people reacted to change in different ways. Logan was proud that he felt no fear or hesitation at this point, only a huge sense of anticipation. It occurred to him that perhaps he was just too stupid and naive to realize the mortal danger that he was in. He banished the thought quickly, and watched as the shoreline rapidly approached.

Moran quirked an eyebrow as he saw Tara walk up. He grinned a little, recalling their last adventure together, "Jeeze, Tara... you look like Hell. You been sleeping okay?" He nodded as Logan got off the boat, "Morning, Logan." He smiled a little, enjoying the fresh air, "Well, once everyone's done getting off the boat, we'll be all set."

Brushing her hand through her hair, absentmindedly at Moran’s words, Tara shot him a charming smile. “You know how bad I am at early mornings, Professor.” She laughed heartily, and shook her head, before pulling her hair into a ponytail, and flicking on a band to hold it from her face. “I’m sure that when we start trekking through the jungle, I will sleep like a log, and resume my usual appearance.” She grimaced to herself, as she realised for the time being, this was going to be her usual look, at least until they headed back to civilisation.

Enuti's eyes were wide as he examined the village. He knew they had curved off the main river into a smaller one which had looped around, but it had still run into the plateau in the form of a waterfall, this one visible from where they were standing. He shivered slightly, despite the warm air and turned to watch Janr and Beneli disembark from the boat, carrying their portion of the natives gear.

He motioned for the two of them to stay with the foreigners, while he walked slowly towards the village, looking around for someone, something familiar. He spotted most of the things he was looking for, as well, but also, something more. A man with a slightly displaced look about him, a person who was almost certainly not native. Then the rumors came back to him, and he smiled, stopping a little closer to the village than the others. He moved into the village and talked with them, discussing their quest.

When he returned, a bit under an hour later, he made his report to the team, focusing on Moran and Tara. He had ignored, for the most part, Logan for the entire trip, having met people like him while he had been away at University. He was not sure why, but Logan seemed to have taken an intense personal dislike to him, and the other two villagers, which was why on the boat one of them had always been awake. But the information he had gained held some importance.

"The elders remember Professor Craven coming through here, but he spent only one night, at the village's insistance. They believe it to be bad luck to start a journey into the jungle more than an hour after dawn. They told me that none of his team ever returned through the village, and they do not know what happened to him. They're willing to give us a guide to the base of the path onto the plateau at dawn if we want it, but no further. Personally, I'd like to spend a night getting used to sleeping on the ground again before wandering in the jungle." He shifted his full attention to the Professor, and pointed to the holy man. "You might be interested in talking to him, Professor. He's got some interesting viewpoints on many subjects, and he's not a native to here. The villagers claim he speaks Common." His gaze drifted to Tara. "Feel free to take pictures here as well, I asked about it, though the same resctritions apply as did at home. No pictures of people who don't want them. The elders encouraged taking pictures of the children especially, as they want their government to send them a teacher for the children, and they hope pictures of them might help." His gaze drifted to the last foreign member of the team. "As for you, Logan, I suggest you confiine your entertainments to children at this stop. This village is not nearly so liberal in its sexual beliefs as my own, and I would hate to have us all murdered in our sleep cause you couldn't keep your pants fastened." He smiled at the slightly younger man. "Moreover, I'm sure that even if you didn't get us all killed you would probably lose parts you're interested in keeping."

Not hardly waiting for a response, he turned to Janr and Beneli and began a rapid fire explanation of what was going on in their native tongue while the others could decide what they wanted to do.

His face reddened at the native's words, and Logan felt his body go tense, as if preparing to attack. He held himself back, letting the anger diminish, and the insult go unpunished. Yes, he had spent the evening with the young native girl, but except for a few kisses, nothing untoward had happened at all. Still, calling Enuti on it would serve no purpose, and out of respect towards Tara and the prof, Logan decided to hold his tongue. Instead, he replied evenly.

"Tara, Professor...if you don't have need of me, I believe I will stay near the boat today. I'll be ready to leave in the morning."

With that, the young man turned and headed towards the back of the boat, lighting a cigar on the way. As he walked, he withdrew a small metal flask from his vest pocket, and took a long drink of the volatile substance. "Kick" was the latest narcohol to hit the market, and the buzz was immediate and clarifying. Logan watched as the horizon swam into clear focus, and the sounds of the village and jungle around him burst in his ears. He smiled, revelling in the feeling of wind on his face. Alone, he sat and watched the water-spiders dance across the surface of the murky river.

Tara turned and smiled at Enuti as he informed them of the village, and especially when he explained that she was free to use her camera without offending the villagers. She really did not want to bring the wrath of the natives by upsetting them; the less hassle that came along on this trip the more comfortable she would feel. She tilted her head slightly in thanks, and shot him another happy smile, which disappeared as the man before her began to speak to Logan.

She was not an innocent, but she had to admit to being a little taken aback by the outspokenness of Enuti. The kind of conversation they were having – not that Logan was replying, so it was a little one sided – probably would have been better handled in an aside, and Tara felt a little embarrassed for the young man. Having your dirty laundry aired in public was not good in any situation, but she was impressed by his handling of events, and was not surprised when he decided to head back for the boat. Tara would have wanted the ground to open up and swallow her if she was in his shoes.

Watching him leave, Tara turned and flicked her gaze between Enuti, who walked off to speak to his companions from his village, and then Moran. “So, Professor…” She smiled trying to behave as if nothing untoward had happened. “Is it to be a look around the village or a visit to a Holy man?” She ran her hand through her hair, trying to make herself look a little more decent, Holy Men tended to hold high ranks in jungle villages, and she did not want to turn up looking any worse than she could help.

Moran chuckled softly to himself as Enuti dressed down Logan. It was hardly politic or polite, but it was still kinda funny, especially Enuti's crude phrasing. He hoped it wouldn't cause an even wider rift between Logan and the natives, but at this point it wasn't high on his list of concerns, after all, they were here on business, and as long as the team could work together, it didn't much matter if they liked each other.

He smiled at Tara, "Well, I should probably meet with the Holy Man, as he's probably our best bet for finding your father. Or, at the very least, he should be able to point us in the right direct." He grinned, "And if he's the type to give us a blessing, all the better." He started off towards the hut that belong to the Holy Man, "You're welcome to come along if you want." He knocked on the door to the hut, waiting for the Holy Man to answer.

Like every other building in the village, Sui Daeng's modest home-and-temple was constructed from mud-bricks - cool in the lush jungle heat, mostly waterproof, and one of the best building materials avaliable to a people without good stone. It was distinguished from the other, more mundane structures by the red paint on the doors and window-frames, and the red prayer-flags hanging limply from the eaves.

After a few moments, the people outside heard a voice calling "Kamé, kamé!" from within; "Wait, wait!" in the local language, but rendered stranger by a trace of foreign accent. Soon, the door swung open, and the Holy Man himself appeared in the doorway.

Physically, Sui Daeng looked neither priestly or imposing. Somewhere in his early thirties, his hair was already receding up the olive skin of his forehead, and small square-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. All in all, if it weren't for the glyphs tattooed above his brows or the small red jade earring hanging from one ear, he might have been taken for a used-bookstore owner or some other harmless eccentric.

"Yes? Who is it?" he asked in the Common lingua franca of the jungle, "How can I help you?"

Foreigners! Songlord slumber, I haven't seen any new faces for several years here!

"Please," Sui asked, "Come in, come in! I have tea boiling, you must drink with me and tell me of your travels, yes?" bowing politely, he stepped backwards into the house, inviting them to enter.

Moran followed Sui into the house, "Ah, thank you. That would be wonderful." He ran his fingers through his white hair, peering around, trying to take in as much of the house as possible. This clearly wasn't a local native; he wasn't sure where this man might be from, but it sure as Hell wasn't Elukjaha.

He took the offered seat: a simple wooden stool in the kitchen. The professor's eyes darted about, quickly looking over the kitchen; it was an airy affair, good ventalation, potted plants in various locations, giving it a well lived look. It was still pretty utilitarian, however, form was clearly subserviant to function.

He accepted the floral patterned china cup of tea from Sui, taking a ginger sip before settling down to business. "First, I'd like to thank you for your hospitality, and taking the time to see us. I'm Professor Daniel Moran from the Hack, this," he said, indicating Tara, "Is my former student Tara Craven." He paused to take another sip and let the name ramble around in Sui's mind for a moment. "We were told that her father, Professor Daniel Craven, had met with you a few years ago before setting out on what would be his last expedition. He disappeared, and nobody knows if he is alive or not," he winced ever so slightly at Tara's responce but continued, "and we hope that you may have an idea as to what he was looking for, where he went, or maybe even what his fate was."

"The Hack, hm? I know of it." They have good hardware there. "I know of Professor Craven also - your appearance reminded me of him immediately, as he was the last white person to come to my door.

"But my manners have quite fled; I am Sui Daeng, Emissary Naat - that's a priest, in the Common, or near enough - here in Elukjaha, blighted First World namantarecau that it is. A pit into the world beneath. Milk?"

From the ancient, humming refrigerator in one corner Sui retrieved a tin of condensed milk, and poured the thick, syrupy stuff into his teacup, stirring vigorously.

"Ah! That hits a spot. So yes, I met your Professor Craven. He was going up to the plateau, the cloud jungle, to look for ruins. Isn't that what you lot do? The natives warned him off, of course - they call the plateau wakuzomtak around here, which means "unclean place" or something of the sort. They say there's demons up there. The demons are still safely down in the First World, of course, but I suppose when one lives in a namantarecau one sees things when one looks down?

"As for where he went, he had a map; he showed me. It's been a few years, of course, so I don't remember it exactly, but I think I may have copied it, or at least something of what he said of the people up in the cloud jungle; the local heathenisms are something of a study of mine, you see. I'll see if I can find it."

Setting down his teacup, Sui disappeared into a back room, and returned after several minutes of frantic rummaging with a slim diary.

"Here we are - the journal of Sui Daeng, from the year of Itakanu Yakatai. Here it is. Ah, I did copy down the map!"

He handed Moran the diary, which was filled with closely-packed cursive glyphs, save for half a page decorated with a rough sketch in blue pen. The copy of the map showed little more than the escarpment of the plateau, the major rivers, Elukjaha, and a few of the surrounding villages - and an inked-in circle somewhere near the middle of the plateau.

"Craven's was off a satellite photograph - he'd marked in the villages and roads and so forth. Said he was going up the plateau over there" - Sui waved vaguely in the direction of the plateau - "There's a path, you see - and then along the edge North to this waterfall, and inland along the stream to this area here." He tapped the blue circle. "Apparently the ruins or whatever he was looking for is in there somewhere.

"Now, I'm afraid that my copy is rather lacking in some probably important detail, but you're welcome to make a copy of the copy if you wish."

Following behind the Professor as they entered the building, Tara was more than a little surprised at what they saw, especially when the priest offered them tea. She, like Moran, took a tentative sip, as if she was expecting something to jump out and bit her, but she soon relished the flavour as it hit her taste buds, momentarily taking her back home.

Snapping out of her reverie at the mention of her father, her attention was drawn to the man before her, while her eyes flicked between Sui and Moran, wondering whether to jump into the conversation or leave it in the safe hands of the Professor. But the mention of Professor Craven became too much, and before she knew what she was doing, she had lowered her cup, and placed it safely on a table, and moved closer, listening to his words.

When he left to get the book, Tara turned to Moran and smiled, for the first time in days she felt that she was getting closer to her father, and discovering what had kept him away from home, and yet at the same time she felt a deep sense of dread. “I can’t believe that we have picked up his trail, after all this time.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I really thought the trail would have been cold after all this time. And now we find someone who has a copy of a map that my father had.”

There was no getting away from her growing excitement. The smile that she cast Sui when he returned was purely dazzling. Watching him, or more importantly the book in his hands, Tara’s gaze followed him back into the room, and he once again began to detail the facts about her father’s brief visit. “Professor, would you like me to make a copy?”

Before he could even answer, she was rummaging in her bag for her journal and pen. She flicked it open to the next blank page, as she looked at Moran expectantly, before flicking her gaze to Sui then back again.

He smoked, and he drank, and then repeated the sequence a few times. He watched, without great interest, the sailors as they moved about the ship, preparing it for its next journey. He wondered idly whether he should just stay on the ship when it left, and go back home. He wouldn't be missed by the professor, who barely acknowledged that Logan was part of the group, and Tara would survive without him...she had made that much clear. He drew deeply on his cheroot, and considered the long ash that dangled from the tip. Brick would have never quit, and neither would his own father: he could do no less. A gentle breeze gusted, and the ash fell on the deck, dispersing in the wind. Ashes to ashes, he thought glumly, and took another long swig from his flask.

He felt suddenly hungry, and his stomach verified the fact by emitting a low, throaty growl. Logan decided that he should try and seek out some food, so he got to his feet, somewhat wobbly from the effects of the narcohol he had drank. Reaching into his vest, he withdrew a small capsule which he simply popped into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. The pill contained concentrated anti-oxidents that cleansed the body of narcohol, as well as leave the user with minty fresh breath. Feeling his head get straighter by the moment, Logan slowly made his way off the boat, down the gangplank and towards the village.

Smiling back, Sui passed his journal to Craven's daughter.

OOC: Many apologies for the one-liner, but I wrote that and then the old brain-box went "whzzzz-clunk!" and stopped working. Sorry about that.

Moran nodded with a smile, "By all means, please make a copy." He grinned a little as he recalled their last adventure together, "I seem to have a habit of losing important things at critical moments, after all." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he glanced over Tara's shoulder at the rough map before his gaze turned back to Sui, "How familiar are you with this wakuzomtak," his pronunciation of the native tongue despite a lack of familiarity was rather accurate, "We have some companions from up the river, but when reconstructing an old trail, well... there more help the better. Any information you have on the wakuzomtak or the ruins Prof. Craven was searching for would be tremendously helpful."

Meanwhile, in the back of his mind, Moran tried to place Sui's nationality.

"I am no tracker, you understand," Sui replied, "And I find myself somewhat lost in the jungle, and I have never been myself up to the plateau - the natives regard it poorly, after all, and would probably extend that regard to myself if I tried.

"However, there are occasional expeditions up there - there have been five in the six years I have been here, including your Professor Craven's. I spoke to them before they went out, and to the two who came back.

"Now, of those two, one turned back when they ran out of supplies - their food mouldered, I believe - and the other had a serious injury. The other three ... well, they may have gone down the other side of the plateau..."

Sui spread his hands to indicate the probability of that; slim.

"That aside, however - I did speak to the expeditions, and I do collect information on the local beliefs - one day I may write a book. Most of it is fairly vague - monsters, demons, evil gods out of the First World - but there may be something that relates to whatever actually is up there.

"I'm perfectly willing to help you if I can."

"Excellent, excellent... I don't know much about this area, so anything that you can add would be a tremendous help." He paused, "Actually, if you wanted to come a long, that would be even better, especially if the natives want us out by morning."

"Come along? I don't know..."

On the one hand, I'd be wandering about in a particularly benighted patch of jungle, with the possibility of painful and violent death at the fangs of some wild animal.

On the other hand, if I were to debunk the native fear of the place, it could go a long way to spreading the word. I might even get a reply from Teng-Hau in Kuitao.

On the gripping hand,* I've seen just about enough of Elukjaha to last several incarnations in the Second World...

"Sure," Sui replied, "Why not?"

OOC: *Yay for Nivenisms!

Tara fell silent as she concentrated on making an exact copy of the map that Sui had passed to her. She frowned slightly, as her thoughts turned to her father, wondering what had led him to this Plateau. What could there be of interest, that took him away from his family, the risk being so high that he never returned. She could not help wanting to know whether he knew the danger he was about to face before he set out.

Shaking her head, she let out a little sigh, as she berated herself once more for letting her mind run away with her. She had already put him down to being killed by one of these demons that the Holy Man had mentioned, when he could have had an accident just trying to reach the Plateau, or he could have just become lost in the jungle. She really had to reign in her overactive imagination before everyone began to think she had gone mad.

Half listening as Moran and Sui spoke, she made the finishing touches to her copy, checking over the details one last time, before she closed the book, and safely tucked her map in her bag, slipping it inside her journal. She wished that she could have seen the true picture, so that she could be sure they had a near accurate copy, yet even though she hardly knew the man, she was sure that he his version was as close to the real thing as possible.

Turning, she stretched out her hand to Sui, and returned the book to him, smiling as she heard him agree to accompany them on their journey. It was true the more the merrier, but in this instance, she was glad of any help that may keep demons and monsters at bay. As she let go of the book into its owner’s hands, her own moved subconsciously to the talisman that hung around her neck, holding it in her fingers.

“Thank you for your help, Mr Daeng.” She smiled pleasantly; feeling more relaxed than she had for a while. This she put down to the tea, which made her feel like she was back at home. “I think this could help us no end.” She turned her attention to Moran. “I have a good feeling about this, Professor. It’s like we are getting somewhere. I’m really beginning to feel like we are on the right track.”

Moran nodded, looking rather pleased with how events were turning out. "Yes, yes... this will work nicely." His mind was already racing as he planned out the next several hours, "Tara, if you could make sure that we have sufficient supplies, that'd be great. Sui, do you know of any locals who would be willing to go along with us? As porters or the like? Even if they aren't willing to go the entire distance, they could be a tremendous help." He thought for a few minutes, "Really is a pity we need leave before dawn... never enough time, really." He grinned, "I'm sure I'll come up with a million other things before tonight." He chuckled, "If I do, I'll find where Logan's headed off to. Give him something to do..."

As Moran's words trailed off, Logan came around a corner, spying the professor and Tara. He continued walking towards them, a smile breaking out on his face. Something about the mood of the group buoyed his spirits, and the young man looked forward to the day to come.

Nodding to Moran, Tara began to mentally make a list of things that they would need for the trip, food being one of the main things on their list. She knew that individually they would be carrying everything that they needed personally, and she was sure that they we armed to a certain extent, but at this moment, following Sui’s words, she would be most happy with a tank.

“I will do the best I can, Professor, but I’m not sure what I can pull together from the boat and the village if we are leaving at dawn.” She grimaced as she wondered how they were going to carry the supplies they would need, she could not help hoping that they would be able to catch some fresh food on the way. “Shall I meet you at the boat in a couple of hours?”

Before Moran could answer, Logan appeared nearby. “It seems you won’t have to go searching after all, Professor. The wanderer returns.” Turning to the newcomer, she shot him a smile, as she fixed her bag securely onto her shoulder. “You might regret your timing, Logan. Professor is dishing out chores for us all.” Grinning, she flicked her gaze between the two men. “I’m escaping before he gives me anything more to do.”

With another smile, and a brief nod of the head to Sui, Tara made her way back in the direction of the boat to arrange supplies for the upcoming trip.

Returning her smile, Logan moved towards the professor, bowing slightly.

"At your service, Prof. Moran. How can I help?" he asked, feeling enthusiastic, and seeing his chance to finally do something that would improve his position with the prof, or so he hoped. He wished briefly that it involved hanging around with Tara, but he had his doubts: Logan was sure that Moran would never approve of his feelings towards her, and in fact, he was sure the older man had his own designs on Tara already.

Moran grinned, "Logan, your timing is perfect. Because of local custom, we've got to leave before dawn, so we're on a tight schedule here. I've got to talk to Haef to make sure he knows our plans, Tara's got supplies, and Sui here," he nodded towards the priest, "is going to see if he can get us some porters." He pondered for a minute, "Let's see here... why don't you give Sui a hand, and we'll all meet back here in a few hours before we head out. It'll be an early night."

"You got it, Prof!" was Logan's reply, enthused that he had some busy work to get him through the day. He approached Sui slowly, giving the man a slight bow.

"Logan Grey, at your service. Where should we go find these porters?"

…Oh, the joy of finally hitting the sack. Today has been one of the longest and most hectic days of the journey. If I didn’t know better, I would swear that the Professor was trying to run us all into the ground with his endless list of chores to be completed before we begin our trek tomorrow. I swear, the walk through the jungle will be relaxing compared to the rushing about I have done. But then, everything he has asked us to do is necessary for the journey…but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

We’ve managed to persuade some of the villagers to join us on the trek, not that they seemed overly thrilled to be doing so, which kind of adds to the general feeling of trepidation that I have been experiencing since we spoke with Sui Daeng. At the moment, my emotions are shot to pieces. I’m relieved that we have word of Father up to this point, but I cannot help feeling that it’s all down hill from here. Of course, this could be a sign of an over active imagination, but I can’t shake my fears. And I think I’m an explorer.

Still, today has been productive, and Professor Moran seems to think that we have everything we need to leave at dawn. Oh, of all the times for us to leave…I’ll be lucky if I wake before noon…my body aches, my mind is in a whirl, and I feel oddly wide awake with excitement and nerves to think that I will ever get a moment of sleep. Damn, inconsiderate villagers…there should be a law about such rules. Still the earlier we start, the further we should cover before nightfall…


…I have a few minutes before we have to leave, and even for the earliness of the time, everyone is here, looking prepared and ready to go. Although there is something about the group, a sense of foreboding, or something, or perhaps it is merely nerves, and once again I am reading more into everything. Or if I am honest with myself, is it my own fear making me assume that everyone feels the same way?

I fear what we are going to find away. My head tells me that Father could be alive, just lost or ill, unable to travel, but my heart… I think it’s preparing for bad news, or even no news. Oh, when did I give up on hope?...

Putting down her pen, Tara placed it in the journal to keep her page, before slipping the book into her bag, and walking over to the other members of the party, who were milling around, making sure that that had everything they needed. She walked over to where Moran was standing, and smiled, as she looked over the supplies that were going with them.

“Are we ready to move out, Professor?” She turned her attention to the slowly lightening sky, the edge of the sun breaking over the horizon, heralding dawn. “A new day, a new set of discovers.” She laughed lightly to herself. “It’s a shame it couldn’t announce what was ahead of us. But then, where is the fun in that?”

Pulling the strap of her bag over her head, rather than just resting it on one shoulder, she lifted her rucksack off the ground, and pulled it onto her back, getting used to the extra weight was now going to have to carry. “And I thought I hated boat trips.” She smiled to herself as she began to help with the supplies.

OOC: Eep! I didn't realise there was all this new stuff on the thread. Sorry 'bout that.

The new day promised to be bright and clear, the clouds blown away by cold air spilling off the plateau to the East, although the omnipresent heat of the jungle remained steady. In the predawn greyness, Sui and the rest of the expedition gathered quietly. Perhaps they were watched by the villagers from their homes, perhaps not.

There had been only three young men in the village willing to brave the dangers of the wakuzomtak; two young men, brothers, by the names of Hevi and Mishamb Wenendabu, and an older man, a maternal uncle of the brothers, named Ukwa Amojari.* They'd said their goodbyes already (to loud, angry protestations on behalf of the brothers' mother, Amojari's sister), and now collected along with the rest.

For his part, Sui closed up his house and the temple, muttering half-believed prayers and tracing sacred glyphs on the doors to ward against intruders, against fire, against flood. He didn't have all that much in the way of possessions to bring along, but the most prominent of those was surely the very large gun across his shoulders; bought six years ago in Kuitao, before he'd left for the jungles, it was designed to stop elephants and other rampaging wildlife. Sui had never had to use it before, but then, he'd never had to go up to the plateau before.

OOC:
* Anyone and everyone can RP the porters, as far as I'm interested.

Logan watched with growing amusement as Tara struggled into her overloaded packsack, slowly adjusting to the added weight. He thought of offering to help carry her load, but quickly banished the thought. The young man had quickly learned that Tara was an independant soul, and she liked to get things done on her own. Either that, or she really disliked Logan. He shrugged his own pack on, the heavy weight a minor burden on his strong frame. He stepped over to join the professor and Tara, nodding to Sui and the porters.

Moran was, of course, up long before anyone else. Breakfast, morning prayers and such-wise were done with more than enough time to spare, allowing him to observe his party members as they arrived. Sui, followed by Enuti and his village-mates, followed by the natives, followed by Logan.

Followed by Tara.

He smirked to himself, At least she's not late this time... He remembered their first trek, when she'd damn near missed the whole thing by oversleeping. Of course, he was exceptionally happy that she had managed to meet up with him. Without her help -- and the help of that native What was his name...? -- he never would have survived what happened at the temple. He watched as she adjusted the weight of her backpack. She carried more supplies this time around, he noticed.

Once everybody had gathered around, he took a last look at them all, "I'm not one for pep talks, so... let's go." And with that he started out of the village.

Grinning to herself, Tara listened to Moran’s speech, noting that some things never changed whether he is out in the field or in the classroom. He never was one for filling the air with chatter, especially where it was not needed. Although if you got him onto the right subject, he would speak about it with gusto, which was one of the reasons she had enjoyed taking his class. His enthusiasm was infectious.

Adjusting a strap, and watching as the others finished their last minute checks, she started the journey into the unknown, her head swimming already with the stories she had heard so far. She felt her heart pounding heavily in her chest, as a moment of fear spread over her. Banishing it to the back of her mind, she followed silently behind the Professor, hoping this trip would not take the unwelcome turns that her previous trek had.

The three natives from downriver had easily let themselves blend into the background while in the village, though they had assisted whenever asked to. But now, in the predawn gloom, their nearly night black skin and camouflage outfits hid them until they stood nearly next to you.

And it did not help at all that they could move in almost total silence. They carried their portion of the supplies easily, and yet somehow, despite the heavy packs did not appear to be burdened by them, no restricted motion or uneasiness appearing. Seven foot long spears made ideal walking sticks for them, and did not lessen their frightening visage in the least. Their eyes burned with barely suppressed excitement as they turned their gaze over the rest of the people gathered. Enuti, as their defined leader, nodded to the other natives, the ones of this village, to Sui, the religious man, and to Moran. He ignored both students.

Janr and Benili had their orders, of course. He was assuming that the locals would lead the way, at least until they were up the plateau. Janr would match his pace to the front of the group, for they would probably travel in column, and Benili would bring up the rear. Enuti would stay with the three explorers, since he was the only one who could communicate with them.

He nodded to himself as he examined the locals. Located further up the river, he was fairly certain they did not have access to the same level of imported technology, and their appearance demonstrated that. But they were well equipped for their journey. Smiling ever so slightly, he considered their protection charms, and nodded to himself. Everyone appeared to be ready to go.

The group set off at Moran's words, the locals instinctively moving to the fore, Janr following them, as was the plan, as Enuti easily kept pace with the older Moran walking a few steps behind him.

With a sense of growing excitement, Logan quickly moved to the front of the group, his well-toned body easily keeping up with the natives who were leading the way. Around every corner was a new discovery, plant life and fauna that was thick, green and lush with an abundance of life. The air was thick and humid, and smelled of moss and decay. The young man looked behind him, making sure that the rest of the group didn't fall too far behind. Tara was glowing, her face a mixture of anticipation and caution. He considered dropping back to walk with her, but only for a moment. She had made her feelings pretty clear to him, and he wanted to respect that. Actually, he wanted to kiss her, but decided he liked his testicles right where they were.

His long legs kept pace with the quick natives as the group ventured deeper into the unknown.

As Tara made her way into the jungle, the journey starting in earnest now, trekking through the undergrowth and carrying a full pack, she cast a last look behind her at the disappearing village, wondering whether she would ever see civilisation again. Suddenly she began to doubt her sanity, as she tried to way up the pros and cons of taking this path. It all felt so final, whereas before there was always that element of things being exactly as she had imagined it, with no absolute proof that her father would not one day just turn up at her home.

She pulled the cap that she had half-stuffed into the pocket of her pants as she packed, knowing that it would be within easy reach should the sun become too hot. And although it was still very early, the sun only just making its climb up into the blue sky, she could not bear its shine as it made its journey. She knew that by the time they reached midday the heat would become unbearable.

Following her fellow explorers, having settled near the back of the group, out of the way, and able to watch her companions, Tara let her eyes drift to either side of her, looking that the greenery growing more and more dense as they made their way. She sighed heavily, once again recalling a similar trip she had taken with the Professor. She just hoped that the guides they had this time were better qualified than the last one, and that they did not end the same way.

Just the thought made her taste the bile that had risen at the memory of the man’s demise. Not that they could say for certain that the blood was his when they came across the splatter outside the temple, but she was sure that it was. Her eyes began to flick between her companions, starting at the front of the group and working her way down to the native bringing up the rear. She could not help wondering if they were feeling quite as much excitement and trepidation as she was.

The jungle started growing thicker the further they went. It wasn't too bad at first, there was even a path. As they progressed further, however, it became clear that this wasn't a particularly popular path to take. Eventually, Moran pulled out the machete hanging from his hip to lop off offending branches and brush. He swung the blade with minimal interest, almost as if he was waving away flies, or if the branches were little more than an irritant that was barely worth the effort of removing. He hummed softly to himself, showing no interest in stopping for quite awhile.

An hour or two past noon, he glanced at his watch and shrugged, glancing behind him at Enuti, "Well, I suppose we could stop for a break and a bite to eat... sound fair?"

Farther up the trail, Logan and two of the native guides were giggling like schoolgirls. They had become seperated from the rest of the group, and had slowed to allow the others to catch up. To pass the time, Logan had pulled out a small, dog-eared copy of "Cheerleaders Gone Wild!", and the 3 young men were pointing and smiling in a way that was universal to young males everywhere.

Logan glanced down the thin path, observing the others slowly approaching. Rather than dance with the overhanging shrubs and branches, they were hacking and flailing with their machetes. Logan preferred the style of the point men he had joined with, gliding around obstacles, not disturbing the natural order of the jungle. It felt more...organic.

The rest of the group was talking now, and Logan could only make out the sound of their voices, not the detail contained within. His native friends heard every word clearly though, and miming eating motions quickly conveyed the information to the young student. His stomach growled in anticipation and he was about to join the others when he noticed his two companions had pulled some hardtack from their hunting pouches, content to eat where they were. They motioned to the young man, calling him over. Logan joined them, realizing that for the first time since he left on this accursed journey, someone had actually accepted him, and wanted his company. With a smile, he rejoined his two new friends.

After traveling for about an hour, it had become clear to Enuti that the locals did not apparently fear where they were going, for the two leaders had shown no interest in scouting ahead. Perhaps they felt safe still near their village. He did not, on the other hand.

Janr had found himself appointed scout, and had vanished ahead of the column, silently vanishing into the brush. Now as noon approached, Enuti wondered where he had gone off to. But then, as the main body drew up to Logan's wandering trio and he watched the undoubtedly quick hiding of the magazine, he smiled.

It had not not taken him long to figure out what was up with the young man. Rich and spoiled, and apparently with fire-powder in the crotch of his pants, much like a lot of young men, especially those Enuti had met while he was away at school. Apparently attracted to Tara as well, despite her obvious seniority in the group, and her lack of reciprocal interest, at least as far as Enuti could tell.

Tara had been fairly quiet, not common for women on jungle journeys in his experience, but something he could appriciate, though she seemed rather intelligent and certainly well educated. She held her own in the climb up onto the plateau, which it appeared they would crest in another hour or so.

Moran was a character, Enuti was beginning to suspect. He certainly liked the older professor, who he suspected was the age of the village elders, but far healthier than they. He had chuckled under his breath when he realized that Moran's seemingly pointless flailing about with his machete was not pointless, especially considering the clearness of the path so far, but instead keeping the man from having to duck or change his path to avoid any branches.

As his eyes spun around the clearing where they were stopped to eat, he smiled as his eyes settled on Janr, then moved on, not revealing his location. He made a series of noises that sounded suspiciously like a couple of birds and recieved a trilling reply. Report. Nothing. Another series of sounds, and once again, a similiar reply. Hungry. Eaten. One last set of noises. Continue. Affirmative He knew without looking that Janr was fading a little further into the jungle.

Then he settled in to eat, sitting beside Beneli, occasionally offering a translation of something being discussed if Beneli seemed interested, and having a conversation in his native tongue with his friend, offering occasionally not entirely friendly comments on their companions, more as jokes though, rather than derisive comments.

Dropping her pack on the floor, Tara was delighted that they had finally stopped for lunch. She stretched her body, feeling it complain as she tried to bring it back to its usual condition. She was hardly unfit, but lugging the amount of supplies she was carrying was a little more than her body was used to, not to mention the added pressure on her feet, she wanted nothing more than to take of her hiking boots and put her feet into some cool water. Of course, she knew that would mean having to take the rest of the day’s journey barefoot, and she had no desire to stand on something that could turn out to be deadly.

Tara sat down on the ground, and began to eat, not having realised before just how hungry she had become. Breakfast had been little more than a quick bite, as she did not want to be late for the off, and had taken out any task this morning that could have made her so. Her stomach let out a gentle gurgle as it waited for the food that was now passing through her lips.

She looked over at Enuti and his friend Beneli, wondering what they were conversing about when they spoke in their own language. It always unnerved her when she could not understand the words of others. Turning her gaze around the others, she watched Logan and his companions walk back towards the group, having pulled ahead during the trek. Continuing on she looked at Moran and Sui, then onto the natives that had come from Sui’s village.

A very varied bunch of people and one she hoped would work well together. She knew they had had their spats to start with, but she was sure that as they moved along their path they would all strengthen ties.

Sui lurched to a stop, dropping his pack. He'd never been the fittest of individuals, and trekking through the nearly trackless (to Sui's eyes) jungle to some unknown destination struck him now as not such a good idea.

But it was much too late to pull out now; Tara Craven and Moran and the rest of them were depending on him, to some extent, to guide them through the wakuzomtak. Sui hoped rather desperately that their trust was not misplaced.

Curious...

Moran dropped his pack and sat on the ground when his suggestion had been accepted. He pulled some food from the pack, but ate almost absentmindedly. He glanced around, his mouth on autopilot, his mind focused on the growing social hierarchy.

The natives from Enuti's village were, of course, under his direct command, and had little to do with the rest of the group. No big surprise, really. The fact that one of them had utterly vanished was of little concern for Moran. He'd been counting on Enuti having one of his men be a scout, and that was probably what was going on. The conversation between Enuti and Beneli in their native language was reasonably easy to figure out. Moran had only picked up a couple words so far, but their facial expressions and general body language clearly indicated that there were amusing phrases being passed back and forth, quite possibly at his own expense. No big deal, again, it was to be expected.

Tara was keeping up nicely. She was determined not to be left behind on this mission, especially since they were all here for her. She had changed a great deal since their last expedition together, she was far more compitent and focused. He chuckled softly to himself, remembering her as his student running up, hours late. She'd likely become a giant in the field if she stuck with it.

Sui was something of an enigma still. The priest was keeping up reasonably well, but he wasn't used to this type of thing. Moran made a note to keep an eye on the man. He'd hate to lose him.

Logan had likewise vanished, chumming up with the native porters. They seemed to be getting along pretty well, which was a good thing in Moran's view. The young man seemed to have a habit of pissing people off, or thinking that he'd pissed people off and shutting down. Moran still remembered Logan's explosion when they were getting on Haef's boat. Haef's request had been reasonable enough, but Logan flipped, and was sullen for the rest of the trip, opting to sleep on the deck as opposed to with the crew. With any luck this would be a turning point for Logan. He too had plenty of potential, and Moran would hate to see it go to waste.

What worried Moran was the sinking feeling he was starting to feel. Everything seemed perfectly normal, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that they were walking into a very unholy place. Early in his career, he would have called such things native superstition, or artifacts of an overactive imagination. He shook his head a little, remembering how he used to think. So niave back then... He'd seen a lot in his forty-some years, and he knew what the sinking sensation ment: he'd be a helluva lot safe back home.

He also no longer held out any hope that Prof. Craven was still alive.

Tara continued to eat, almost wolfing down the food, not realising how hungry she had become during the journey. She looked over at Moran, as he watched the other members of the group. He was not one of the easiest people to read, but even he seemed to have an edge about him, and to Tara that in itself was not an encouraging sign. Memories of their last jungle trip flooded into her mind briefly, before she pushed the thoughts from her head.

Getting up from her place, she walked over to where Moran was sitting and smiled. “We seem to be making good progress…I think.” She lowered herself to the floor, her food all but forgotten. “The trail seems not too bad, perhaps a little overgrown.” She took a moment to run her eyes over her surroundings, before looking back at the professor. “I have a good feeling. I believe that we are on the right trail.” She laughed to herself. “I can almost see Father walking this path.”

Moran snapped back into himself, and looked at Tara for a couple beats before smiling, "Sorry... lost in thought." He winked, "Dottering old professor and all." He set his food down and nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's a lot better than I would have expected, lucky us, hmm? I don't know how much longer it'll stay this way, unfortunately. And, we're probably still a few days out from wherever your father was ultimately heading for." He frowned slightly, "Hopefully we'll find some clues." He took a drink of water from his canteen and used it to point towards Tara's food, "Eat up, still got a lot of walking to do."

Based on the crude map retrieved from the holy man's journal, the company had traveled for four days without interruption, reaching the river near the end of the first day. They had continued up the bank, waking with the sun and settling in with the night. They had no idea how far they had come, but Enuti knew that the jungle was getting denser, and their pace was slowing.

Hack, slash, cut.

They were having to hack their way through the jungle now, even walking within a hundred meters of the river, for there was no clear bank to walk on. The trees leaned out menacingly over the water, nearly blocking out the sun at all hours, so thick and tall had they grown here.

Hack, slash, cut.

Enuti guessed they couldn't be making more than a kilometer an hour now, and despite nearly sixteen hours of light a day, that meant no more than ten a day. He was pretty sure the first couple of days they had averaged twice that.

Hack, slash, cut.

So seventy kilometers from the village, with no idea how far they had yet to go. He sighed heavily, and was glad his hand was well calloused from work in his home village. He glanced over his shoulder at the explorers from another land and smiled grimly.

He was no longer walking beside them for the simple reason that he was having to cut the path. He did not mind, and knew that their hands would recover soon, and get the protection they needed. Meanwhile, he would help these people he was coming to think of, for the most part, as his friends. Logan was at least tolerable, anyways.

Hack, slash, cut.

Last night had been torture, though. There had been no clearing of any sort to camp in, for they had continued well past dark looking for one, with no success. Finally, they had slumped against a series of large trees and gone to sleep. Except for the natives, who were maintaining watch throughout the night. Eight hours of darkness meant four two hour shifts, with two natives getting each night off. So far, it was working well.

Hack, slash, cut.

Janr materializes out of the perpetual dimness of the daylight forest, looking concerned. The two other natives blazing trail were a moment behind him. A stream of fast, tense words flowed out from Janr, and Enuti's eyes widened, and he came to a halt. Then he turned to the group, motioning with his head for Janr to go tell the two natives at the back of the group. "Professor, Tara, Logan, Sui, we have a problem. We're being tracked by a pride of Murat kinsin, which means, roughly, 'demon cat'. It's a type of social panther, for lack of better term. They're extremely dangerous, and prone to absolute brutality when they kill, when they do kill, that is. They prefer to eat their prey alive as long as possible." He began to explain what he had in mind.

Hack, slash, cut was forgotten.

They would have to stand their ground to convince the panthers to attack them, otherwise, the animals would keep tracking them until they would be unable to defend themselves, because of exhaustion or darkness. He wanted two rings, the four non-natives in the center with the six natives on the outside. Enuti was the only native with a firearm, but all the explorers had at least one, and putting their heavier, higher rate of fire weapons in a slightly more protected position made sense. There would be anywhere from eight to twelve of the big cats, which had apparently picked them up just a short time before.

Soon, all was arranged, the heavy packs laying on the ground, and they readied themselves for however long the wait would be. Enuti unsnapped his pistol holster and chambered a round in his rifle. His two friends followed his example with their crossbows. The local guides prepared bows. Range would be far better than letting the animals get close. They would come from the trees, and Enuti scanned the branches above them, nearby them. Nothing yet.

But soon.

They came, like nightmares, out of the trees, solid black forms of rippling muscles, three hundred kilos of one of the most individually deadly beasts in the jungle. And there were ten of them, three meters of fur and teeth and claws eager to consume the humans who had dared venture into their domain.

The first shot was clear, the snap-thunk of a powerful crossbow, with a scream from one of the panthers that was more than enough to freeze blood, tearing through the clearing, shattering hearing. But what came next did even more damage. In less than a second, three pistols and two rifles went off as one, shattering the eerily quiet forest, and the battle was joined. Even a hit from Sui's elephant gun only splattered blood from the massive creatures, enraging them for the tiny moments they had yet to live before their life flowed out of them with their blood.

But the weapons were blazing away as fast as they could. Enuti dropped his rifle as it clicked empty and pulled his pistol in a smooth motion, continuing to fire.

In a long moment of terror, it was over. The ten creatures lay dead at their feet, and no one was hurt. Blood covered the ground and the bushes and even the trunks of the trees. Enuti sank to the ground, shaking slightly, staring at the corpse of a male panther that was impaled on two of the native's spears with it's head blown open. That was what it took to stop them. He shivered, and looked around the group to see the other's reactions, noticing that Janr and Beneli were also sinking to the ground in relief.

Demon panthers... better than straight up demons, at least.

After the last of the cats fell, Moran swung open the breech of his hand cannon, and dropped all the casings into his hand. He picked out the three spent rounds and put the two unspent ones back into the cylinder. He fished out a box of ammunition from his back, pulling out three fresh rounds, and put the spent casings in their place. After reloading the weapon, he placed it back in the holster strapped to his thigh. He put the box away and rotated his right arm a little. While the kick didn't knock him on his ass like it did Tara, it still packed a big enough punch to tenderize his shoulder a little.

He looked over one of the more mutilated creatures, one he was pretty sure he'd hit. He gently kicked it over, inspecting the remains. He was no biologist or zoologist, but he was still pretty curious. His shot had almost removed the head of the beast, and he looked over the pearly teeth, "Impressive..." He glanced up at Enuti, "The meat good to eat? What about the pelts? Hate to let them go to waste if they're useful."

He knew there was a problem when the his friends face turned white, not an easy feat for a black-skinned native. Pointing towards the jungle, they chattered excitedly, and nervously, one slapping Logan on the shoulder and pushing him back towards the group. He wasn't sure what the problem was, but recognized the urgency in the natives actions. Logan returned to the professor and Tara, only to discover that they were preparing for war.

Explanations were quickly handed out, and Logan prepared himself along with the rest of the group. His big pistol was loaded, 12 shots of .49 calibre death ready to fly, an extra clip close by. As he was checking the action, his eye noticed a bluish-glow, one that drew his attention. Tara had put her waist-sac on the ground by her feet, and something inside it was emitting a pulsing, blue-tinged light. He was about to ask her about it when the first creature attacked.

The rest was a blur, an explosion of gunfire drowning out his thoughts, his heart beating rapidly, no time for fear just...excitement. He was pleased when he saw one of the big cats go down in front of him, a lucky shot putting a heavy round through the creatures eye and destroying its brain. It lasted a moment, it lasted a lifetime, and then it was over. A quick glance around showed that the team was intact, and no one had been hurt. Tara was panting, her pistol still smoking in her hand. She looked beautiful, glowing with energy and adreneline.

After holstering his own pistol, he walked over to where she stood.

"You ok?" a quick nod from her indicated she was.

"Boy, that was some fun, huh? Lets hope thats the extent of the action on this trip!" He was speaking rapidly now, his own excitement driving him on, nervous energy causing him to chatter on.

"Hey, did you forget to turn something off?" Logan indicated her bag, the blue glow still dimly apparant, but fading. He bent down and picked it up, then passed it to her. His eye noticed that there was nothing in the bag except what appeared to be a rather large knife. The glow had been coming from it, and was now nearly gone. He looked at her with questioning eyes.

Tara was hardly aware of what was going on around her when the group began to grow agitated. And it was this more that her own understanding of what was happening that caused her to follow their lead, knowing that something bad was up ahead, while remaining unsure whether she wanted prior warning as to what they were going to be facing.

Almost as if running on autopilot, her mind too busy conjuring up a myriad of foul beasts that were waiting just outside her line of sight, hidden in the thick undergrowth ahead of them, Tara pulled her gun from its place, as her eyes flicked about her. She watched as if from a distance, as the natives took the outer circle, keeping herself and the others in the middle. Checking her gun, she held it out in front of her, pointing off into the distance, hoping that whatever showed itself was frightening enough to force her to pull the trigger, and hopefully with more success than her previous jungle encounter.

As she stood waiting, her subconscious filtered through the words that Enuti had mentioned as they drew to a stop, the word ‘demon’ seemed to echo around her mind, causing her to swallow hard. Suddenly she went whiter than she had been before the beginning of the journey, her eyes wide as they searched her surroundings.

The next moment, the area burst into action, the air filled with gunfire and snarling creatures, replaced every now and then with the wounded cries as the beasts went down one by one. Firing wildly, Tara aimed at anything that moved, managing to keep herself from hitting one of her party. If she hit anything and stopped its approach, she could not tell, as her body and mind was taken over by the will to survive.

How long the attack went on for, or how many creatures were involved, Tara never really knew, the details seemed too trivial compared with the moment. Once it fell quiet, she dropped to her knees, taking in huge breaths as her body fought for air. Instinctively she returned the gun to its home, freeing her hands to brush her hair out of her face, as sat on the ground, relief flooding over her body.

She looked up as she heard Logan approach, and answered his question after her health with a brief nod, unable to form words in a way that would not reveal how frightened she had been during the attack. Her heart beat loudly in her chest like a jungle drum, almost blocking out all other sound. She did not really catch any more of his words until he pointed to her bag, and looked at her strangely.

Following his gaze, Tara stared at the knife, before pulling the flap over her bag, closing the inside from Logan’s view. “It’s just…a gift.” She smiled weakly, trying to regain her composure. “Is everyone…alright?” She gasped, as she looked around the group, checking to see if everyone had survived the skirmish.

Sui had heard of the Murat kinsin, of course - just another breed of demon in the village, although they called them muraat kenseng there - but hadn't thought that such a thing could exist ... and if muraat kenseng existed, what about mtkam kenseng, or kenseng-uvu? The priest had enough trouble with the demons of his own faith - who stayed in the First World most of the time - without adding heathen monsters to their number.

With exaggerated caution, Sui pulled the gun from it's position across his pack, and fed shells into it one by one. Five in total - if you needed more than that, you'd be dead before you had a chance to reload anyway.

Then the murat were upon them, all teeth and claws and rippling muscle under sleek black fur. Screaming One, they are demons! Sui thought, taking aim and letting fire.

The gun slammed back into his shoulder and the bullet went wide, scoring a bloody track across the ribs of one of the beasts. With his second shot the priest was ready for the recoil, and hit the thing in the chest. Still it kept coming! Someone else's shot impacted behind the ear in a spray of blood and gore, and the body stopped, flopping sideways.

There were more of the things - too many to count, a multitude - and Sui fired again, and again. Down to one bullet, and that would be his last.

Oh gods, be kind to me - I don't want to die again!

One of the murat was advancing upon the bearers, spears dangling from it's sides. Juaki Cloudlady, smile upon me! Sui fired, and by some fluke of luck or divine intervention, the shell penetrated the eye socket, splattering bone and brains across the foliage on it's far side.

And then it was over, the creatures dead on the ground, and suddenly there were only ten where there had been myriads. Sui trembled with adrenalin and fright, leaning on his gun. I could have died twice! he realised, appalled. The only people who've done that are heroes! He was no hero - just an average priest who'd gotten through the First World with ka and ña intact.

Enuti slowly rose from the ground at Moran’s question and moved over to examine the beast which drew the professor’s gaze. “I don’t know.” He ran his eyes over the huge animal. “We rarely manage to take them out in the village with this little damage to them. Having to use arrows, spears and bolts causes a lot more damage to the pelts and the animals themselves.”

He frowned slightly. “We might be able to skin them or eat them, I don’t rightly know. But we don’t have anyway to transport them. Further, I know that none of the scavenger animals in the jungle will eat them, so they might not be safe. I think we’d probably better just leave them.” He sighed softly, then stood again, and as he turned, his eyes found Janr and Beneli, beckoning them to him. Bending over as they picked their way over the gore strewn ground, he retrieved his rifle, and brushed the dirt off of it. He carefully ejected the magazine and replaced it with one from his belt, and then did the same to his pistol.

By the time he looked up, both his friends were looking at him. He extended the rifle to Janr, who wordlessly exchanged it for his crossbow, and gave the pistol to Beneli. In their own dialect, he gave the instructions. “Find the cubs. Kill them.” Both nodded, and faded away into the jungle. He turned his attentions back to the group and saw, that for the most part, they were shaking, relieved to be alive. Except Logan, who seemed as out of place a deacon in a house of joy. The boy hardly seemed human much of the time, then even more human when he would pant over his magazine or over Tara. Strange indeed. Enuti tried to remember what he had been like at Logan’s age, yet could not reconcile the two memories.

Everyone was okay, and amazingly, no one was injured. He organized the other natives to collect up arrows and the spears, and to clean them off, knowing carrying bloody spears and such would be bad. He addressed the group at large. “As soon as everyone is ready, we need to move on before the blood attracts other creatures.” After a few more minutes of getting gear back together, the muffled sound of more gunshots echoed through the forest, from not that far away.

As the others continued to get ready, Enuti approached one of the big creatures and pulled out his knife, and began to hack off the claws, then the large fangs. Cleaning them carefully, he wrapped each one in a leaf and slipped them into his pack. The quick project was completed by the time everyone was ready, and Janr and Beneli returned. Enuti reloaded once more, and then gently prodded the group back into motion, following the same pattern as before, Janr scouting, the two young natives behind him, then the main body of explorers led by himself, with Beneli and the young boys’ uncle bringing up the rear. It had been no more than an hour since they had first halted.

Hearing Enuti informing the group that they were about to move on, Tara groaned slightly to herself, wishing they could have a few moments more to get over the excitement, but she knew that if they remained here, there was a good chance that other ‘things’ might find them, and who could say that they would not be bigger and harder to kill. Getting up from the ground, she brushed the dirt and dust from her clothing, before gathering up her belongings. Feeling the weight of her rucksack, she sighed as she pulled it onto her back and made it as comfortable as possible.

As she prepared to leave, she jumped the sound of gunfire filled the air, before she realised it was just the two natives finishing off any stragglers. Moments later she saw Beneli and Janr return to the clearing and begin to ready themselves for the off. She watched as the party fell into their usually walking positions, Enuti up front and his friend taking up the rear, with her near the back and out of the way, while Moran and Sui were up the front with their guide.

Falling into line, she began to make her way out of the blood and flesh strewn battlefield, stepping carefully over the bodies of the fallen beasts, expecting one of them to wake up and make a grab for her at any moment. She let out a soft sigh of relief as she re-entered the jungle path, leaving the terrifying scene further and further behind her.

Moran nodded to Enuti, "Hm, yes, excellent point. Still..." He peered at the dead panther for a moment, pondering, before pulling out his machete and giving the panther's mouth a firm whack. He picked through the shattered jaw and pulled out a tooth, wiping it and the machete off. He grinned, "A little momento." He slipped the tooth into his pocket and stood up, blinking at the sound of gunfire. Noticing Enuti's calm expression, he didn't worry and simply waited for everyone else to get read before shouldering his pack again. "Shall we?"

The journey continued through the jungle, the scene changing little as minutes turned into hours, the same scenery replaying over and over again, to the point that Tara had almost convinced herself that they were, in fact, going around in circles. It was only her belief in the abilities of the guides that stopped her from declaring her fears out loud.

She shifted her pack on her back, trying to ease a little of the ache that had begun to grow since she woke up that morning. Wriggling her shoulders, she sighed softly as she felt her shoulders refresh slightly, the movement bringing some life into her tired joints. Looking up into the sky, she knew that it was still many hours before she would be able to take the weight off her body, and right then, she would have sold her soul to the devil for the luxury of a warm, soothing bath, filled with thick bubbles and smelling of some flowery smell.

Letting her gaze travel along the group, she saw that little had changed from the order that they seemed to have started off with. Moran and Enuti, along with Sui were behind the leading guide; Logan was conversing awkwardly with his new found friends, and keeping up the rear behind her was Enuti’s fellow villager Beneli, his other companion disappeared ahead, appearing now and again during their stops.

She continued to walk along, almost losing herself in her thoughts, playing out scenes in her head, especially the one when they run into her father, and she hugs his tightly before bringing him home. Sighing slightly, her eyes moved over the foliage around them, something interesting taking her interest. On one of the trees, a bulbous shaped fruit, one that they had not had on the menu so far.

Moving off the path, she reached up and pulled a couple that were hanging low, and examined them as she moved back into her usual position. They looked very juicy and tasty, the mango looking objects felt soft in her hands. Knowing better than to just take a bite, she decided to asked Enuti if they were safe to eat, speeding up slightly to catch the group, she soon slowed herself as she saw that the native was deep in discussion with the holy man and the professor.

Being thrown off her task for a moment, she frowned, before she recalled the man walking just behind her. She knew that he was not as fluent as Enuti, but he should be able to tell her if there was any danger involved in taking a bite. Dropping back so that she was walking beside Beneli, Tara produced one of the fruit, and held it up in front him.

“Is…this…safe…to…eat?” As she spoke, Tara put the fruit up to her mouth, and mimed taking a bite. “Will…not…kill?” She looked at him questioningly, wondering whether he had understood her.

Beneli looked at her for a moment, before a smile slowly grew on his lips, and he nodded his head slowly. “You eat…yes.”

Tara felt a little relieved, but continued to ask, wanting to absolutely sure. “Is…good…to…eat?” She rubbed her stomach and smiled happily, watching as he nodded a little more enthusiastically, and giving her a bigger smile, like he knew how good the produce was.

Feeling a little more convinced that the fruit was perfectly safe to eat, she returned the natives smile, and took a large bite out of one of the pieces, feeling the juice begin to run down her chin as she broke the skin. Chewing happily, she savoured the sweet taste of the flesh. She caught Beneli looking at her with a strange look on his face. Realising her rudeness, she offered him the second piece of fruit, assuming that he wanted to share in its delightful flavour, but she was more than a little confused when he shook his head and grinned even more.

Tara decided she really did not understand the villager and moved on ahead to finish eating without an audience.

* * * * *

Rubbing her hand over her brow, Tara removed the sheen of sweat, the result of the continued trek though the jungle. She blinked her eyes several times, trying to get rid of the weird feeling she had been experiencing for the last quarter of an hour, not that it was a bad sensation, in fact, she felt oddly better than she had for a while, but she felt different.

She let her gaze wander back over the crowd, hoping that she would be able to snap herself out of whatever was affecting her by occupying her mind with something. Deciding she needed to talk to someone in order to focus her thoughts, she began to speed up to catch up with Moran and Enuti. As she moved forward, she had the feeling that Beneli was watching her oddly. Looking over her shoulder, she was greeted by the knowing smile he had been giving her.

Nearing the two men, Tara shot them both a smile, suddenly feeling more comfortable in their presence, assuming it was the gap she had put between herself and the smirking Beneli. “We seem to be making good progress.” She spoke happily, the smile oddly fixed to her lips as she let her gaze fall on the Professor, a powerful feeling flooding over her body as her eyes lingered on his face.

Moran quirked an eyebrow, as he noticed Tara, but just shrugged, "Seems that way." He thought some more, "You feeling okay?"

Tara looked at the Professor and smiled. “Of course.” She frowned suddenly, wondering what Moran had seen for him to ask. She ran her hand over her hair, worrying whether it was her appearance, feeling a need to look her best, as if she did not want to disappoint him. “I’m perfectly well. How are you?” Her eyes stayed fixed to his, as her smile returned.

Must be the heat... He moved a little closer to the nominal center of the 'path' that they were following in a vain attempt to lessen the amount of branch hacking he'd have to do, before returning Tara's smile, "Oh, you know. As well as can be expected in the middle of a jungle walking towards an accursed site." He grinned, a slight gleam in his eye, "I'm loving every minute of it."

“So am I.” She had all but forgotten the path they were on, her thoughts only on the Professor, and no matter how hard she tried, he remained the focus of her attention. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but they stayed exactly as they were. “Thank you for having faith in me and this expedition.” Without warning she planted a kiss on his cheek. As she pulled away, she nibbled on her lower lip, and grinned, a slight blush reddening her cheeks, but even in her slight embarrassment, her eyes showed little sign of being sorry for her action.

He blinked a couple times in surprize, caught totally unaware. He peered at his former student, eyebrows knotting together as he tried to figure out what was going on, but was completely clueless, simply chalking it up to general social ineptitude.

He started to say something when a large drop of water landed on his nose causing him to yelp softly in surprise. Usurping, again, his chance to say anything, the storm clouds opened up over them, a downpour forming in a matter of seconds. "Oh, hell." He cast his eyes around, looking for shelter.

It took a moment for Tara to understand what had elicited the remark from the professor, before she felt the drops of rain herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the cooling water run over her face, before opening them again and laughing lightly. “Mmm, this is heaven.” She looked over to the professor before watching the rest of the group as they reacted to the rain. “Professor, I have a gift for you.” She had already pushed the rain into the back of her mind, as the others searched around for somewhere to give them shelter.

Moran blinked again as his brain continued to disconnect from Tara's words and actions. "Er... I don't suppose it could wait a minute or two?"

He sighed as time went on, it was clear they weren't going to find shelter before becoming utterly soaked. He turned back to Tara, wiping some of the rain from his face, a rather futile gesture, "I guess there's no sense in waiting after all."

“It will make you feel happier, and take your mind off of the weather.” She presented her hand facing upward to him; a piece of fruit that she had picked earlier was resting in her palm. “They are perfectly safe.” She turned her head and looked over the rest of the party, her eyes fixing on the native bringing up the rear. “Beneli said they were good to eat.” She grinned to the man, before looking back at Moran.
“They are very tasty, and juicy.” She laughed lightly, lowering her eyes, before bringing them up slowly to meet the professor’s. She felt her stomach flip nervously as she waited for him to take the gift.

Fruit? Moran took the offered fruit from Tara's and looked it over, trying to think if he'd ever seen anything like it before -- motivated by curiosity, not distrust. After turning it over in hands a few times, he shrugged, "Tasty you say, hmm? Fair enough." He took a bite and smiled, "Mmm... your right, it is pretty good."

“Good, huh?” Tara smiled happily as the professor took her gift. She closed her eyes for a moment, as she felt a strange sensation flood through her body, putting it down from the reaction to the cooling effect of the rain on her hot body. As she opened her eyes, she brushed her hand over her hair, ridding it of the access water. “I’m glad you like it.”

She raised her hand and ran her hand over his cheek, removing some of the streams of water that raced over his skin, letting her hand drop slowly to her side, as she continued to stare at him, before she blinked herself out of her reverie. “I think we are getting wet.” She tried to make light of the situation, as her cheeks grew slightly rosier.

The fruit certainly was strange. It had a sweet flavor, and seemed to make him feel much more relaxed. The rain seemed to be more of an afterthought now. He wasn't sure why that would be the case, but it was much less of a disaster to his mind now. Of course, getting out of the rain would be nice, but no rush.

He again looked mildly surprized as he felt her hand on his cheek. Not as shocked when she'd kissed him though; actually, he was more surprized at his lack of concern at her touch. He decided to put inner confusion aside and smiled weakly at Tara, "Yes... we certainly are... you have a knack for understatement." He grinned a little, before jerking his head around as Enuti called out that some caves were nearby, and they could wait out the storm there.

Tara turned and looked at Enuti as his words reach her ears, suddenly making her want to get out of the rain. She practically grabbed the professor’s hand and made her way towards the cave, keeping him close as if she was afraid he would disappear. She followed quickly behind Enuti as he led the way.

Moran squawked in shock as he was pulled through the jungle towards the caves, wondering just what in the name of Tsathoggua had gotten into Tara. As they neared the cave; however, he found himself not really caring what the problem was. He was starting to feel a little strange, too vague a feeling to describe, just... strange.

Entering the cave, she let go of Moran’s hand, shaking herself briefly to remove the access water than that seeped into the clothes. She burst out laughing, as she dropped her rucksack to the floor, happy to be free from its weight, before turning and looking to Moran, seeing whether he was alright. She was not sure when it had happened but his wellbeing and happiness seemed far more important than her own.

“Let me help you, Professor.” She stepped over her own belongings, and began to help Moran with his. As she moved around behind him, her hands lightly played over his arms, and down his back, her touch soft and tender.

He accepted Tara's help, partially because he was focusing too much on his quickening pulse to have a chance to respond before she started pulling off his pack. Just as he was starting to come up with a rational explanation for his pulse rate, he felt warmth over his cheeks. Blushing? Something was certainly going on, here. But, again, he was finding it difficult to concentrate on what was wrong and was more interested in how Tara's hands felt on his arms and back. About this time, etiquette kicked in and he managed to say, "Thank you, Tara..."

“You are welcome, Professor.” She continued to move around him, walking full circle, her fingers remaining in contact with his body, as she came to a stop in front of him. She met his eyes with her own, a new look touching them, no longer able to hide her feelings, or even wanting to. Her gaze spoke only of her desire, as she stood there before him. She moved her eyes down his body slowly, taking in every detail, before they travelled back up to his face. Nibbling on her lip, she let it ping free as she ran her tongue over them. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Daniel?”

Moran glanced around, suddenly feeling slightly exposed, especially as he noticed just how close the others were. He coughed slightly as she used his first name, "Ah, well..." The strange effects from the fruit were growing, becoming more and more insistent. He wasn't exactly sure what it was insisting upon, but he was pretty certain that standing at the mouth of the cave like an idiot wasn't in line. "Perhaps we should... see what else is in the cave?" He cast his eyes around, only to find everyone but Tara ignoring him. He smiled weakly, "Make sure there’re no bears or anything?"

Nodding her head, Tara smiled. “Yes, bears could be a problem.” She spoke softly, so only Moran could hear her next words. “Wherever you lead, I shall follow.” Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, surprising her that none of the others could hear it thudding. She pushed her sack away from the entrance with her foot and waited for the professor to lead the way.

Moran smiled weakly, and struck off into the cave, not really sure where he was going, but figuring 'elsewhere' would be a good start. As they moved deeper into the twisting cave, the light from the entrance wasn't really of any use anymore. Moran patted his pockets, looking for a source of light before finding a small keychain flashlight. "Better than nothing, I guess..." He flicked it on and continued

In the darkness of the cave, Tara reached out and took hold of the professor’s hand, her thumb stroking lightly over his skin. The lack of light did not bother her, even though the torch helped making movement easier, as well as detailing any features that might hinder their path. As they walked, it became clear that the cave was not as small as she had first imagined, not that she had really given her surroundings much of a thought.

Moving deeper inside, the entrance becoming a small spot behind them, the sound of their companions’ voices echoing lightly around them, she continued to follow where Moran led them trusting in him totally. Her hand released his, as it moved slowly up his arm, tracing over its shape, as if she was caressing some statue by some great artist. Her breath was being to grow raspy, as her need to touch the man beside her grew. She had always respected the professor, ever since she had met first him through his association with her father, but the way she felt now had nothing to do with respect.

Once they got deeper into the cave, Moran started to wonder what to do next. Actually, as he felt Tara's hand on his, and then along his arm, he had a pretty good idea of what to do next, but it didn't strike him as particularly proper. However, he wasn't particularly sure about that either as he thought about it.

After reaching a point where even the echoes from the mouth of the cave were barely audible, he turned off the flashlight and leaned against the wall of the cave, speaking softly, "Don't think there's any bears." He laughed slightly, "Nor any creatures that actually live in a jungle."

“Who cares?” Tara placed her hand on the back of Moran’s neck, her fingers slightly stroking his skin, as she tilted her head and claimed his lips with hers. Suddenly, all her desire was pumping through her body, unable to hold back her need. The kiss was deep and passionate, as if she had been waiting years to carry out this one action.

Moran's eyebrows shot up, the last bits of his consciousness against the inevitable gave a final, futile cry of defiance. He quickly leaned into the kiss, his arms going around her waist and pulling her close.

With her body pressed up against his, Tara lost all sense of control. Breaking the kiss, she looked into Moran’s eyes, her gaze needing no words to describe what she wanted…him. She moved her hand onto his chest, her fingers sliding under his already open vest, to the gaps between the buttons on his shirt, getting their first feel of his skin beneath. She smiled at him, as her hand moved down his shirt, like she was counting the fastenings, before her hand returned to the top one. She uttered no words as she brought her other hand up, to cup his cheek. She kissed him again, as her fingers began to work on freeing the first button from its hole.

He managed a smile as she broke the kiss before bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, caressing softly as they resumed kissing. At this point, he no longer cared about the age difference, or that she used to be his student, or even that there were a whole group of people not to terribly far away. She had managed to capture his complete attention.

As the passion of the two began to rise, aided by the effects of the fruit, and perhaps a little of what neither of them had ever admitted to themselves, they let go of their inhibitions and allowed their feelings to carry them on its course. It was not long before a pile of clothing rested on the floor, acting as a bed on the hard cave floor. Not that the two lovers noticed anything other than each other as they lost themselves in their desire.


[ooc: This was co-written by Hack]

Enuti blinked in surprise as he saw what Tara was holding. That can’t possibly be… Beneli wouldn’t’ve… Oh shit. She had already eaten a good portion of the fruit. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t point out that that was fruit that the medicine men in his village used to bless a newly married couple. And for those couple who were having intimacy problems.

But only the juice. And only a little bit. Dear Ratevulli, what would happen between the two of them now? He knew, from discreet questions, that the amount of juice used was less than five milliliters, as much of the world measured such things. That fruit had to contain… well, a lot more than that. He knew the dried pulp was just a potent as the juice, and was used for, among other things, to increase physical stamina in hunting rituals.

The thought of both together… He drew his thoughts away as the rain began to splatter down on them, and hurried forward up towards where Logan and the two leading natives were as Janr came out of the jungle, already looking wet. Speaking rapidly, he communicated that he had found a cave where they could wait out the storm. He sent one of the locals back to tell the rest of the group and moved rapidly after Janr, the second local and Logan following him closely. Seeing them in the cave, he dropped his gear and ran back through the jungle to lead the others to the cave. He wanted them under cover as soon as was possible, for their course had taken them closer than normal to the river, which, like many rivers, probably had a tendency to flood under heavy rains, which this was turning out to be.

Once everyone was in the cave, Enuti frowned as the rain continued to pound down. Even if it stopped in relatively short order, the ground would be dangerous to keep walking on tonight. He shuddered as thunder cracked overhead. Not a short storm, then. “We’ll stay here for the night,” he announced, having become de facto leader of the actual jungle venturing of the trip.

Turning at a soft noise, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Moran and Tara vanished further back into the cave. Damn it, this day goes from bad to worse. I’d rather be fighting more of the panthers. Now I’ve got to figure out what to do about this… Two problems, Beneli, and Logan. He moved towards the pile of gear the Professor and Tara had left, and extracted their guns from the pile, along with a bit of ammunition, then wandered over towards Logan before the young man could get busy doing anything. “Logan, I was wondering if I could trouble you to clean Tara and Professor Moran’s guns for them.” He smiled as he handed over the weapons. “Thanks.” Enuti did not even wait for a response.

Next was Beneli’s turn, and Enuti dropped into their native language. “What the hell were you thinking, telling her it would be safe to eat that fruit?”

Beneli shrugged. “It won’t hurt her.”

Enuti frowned. “A single woman with nine men? Do you have any conception of how horrible that could have turned out?” His friend shrugged again, shaking his head, an expression of confusion on his face. “These people treat sex far differently than we do in our village, Beneli. That’s one of the many things I learned while I was away.”

Beneli shrugged once more. “So, she came on the trip to experience different cultures, didn’t she?” He grinned, leaving no doubt in Enuti’s mind that Beneli would not mind helping Tara to experience these cultures given an option. But he just as surely knew that Beneli would never act without some sort of signal. And admittedly, Tara was attractive to look at, and energetic, and… Dear god, Moran’s not a young man… shit.

“Beneli, go stand watch by the tunnel they wandered down. If they’re not back in a few hours, go look for them. Do not take the girl up on any offers she might make, or I will castrate you myself.” Enuti was really mad, and Beneli nodded, it beginning to sink in that he had done something, while not really wrong, per se, not right, either. “Most importantly, don’t let the boy,” his eyes shifted in Logan’s direction, “wander off that way.”

Beneli nodded again, accepting his friend’s natural leadership. “Understood.” He moved over to a rock outcropping and planted himself on it, leaning against the wall by the crevice that Moran and Tara had vanished down.

Enuti moved to give orders, and sent the locals scurrying into the woods to see if they could find dry tinder or even fuel, while the oldest native kept watch. Janr went about setting up the camp stove, while Enuti sat across, watching Logan carefully, while beginning to clean his rifle. He hoped Sui would take the hint as well.

OOC: If this messes with pre-set plans, I can scrap it ...

Sui had spent six years in the jungle, and while the dialect in the village where he'd lived was not the same as Enuti's, they were mutually intelligible, to a degree, and one word which caught his attention was ngongsi. They called it ngangasi in the dialect he was more familiar with, but in either branch it meant any fruit with medicinal or druglike properties.

Following Enuti and Beneli's conversation as best he could, Sui realised that the fruit they were discussing must be ngangasi-iksi, infamous throughout the jungle and beyond. A steady stream of the citroid passed through Rei-Sareng's bloated grey market constantly, openly displayed in some seedier areas of Kuitao ...

Altering his pronounciation as best he could to match Enuti's, he said quietly in the same language; "This fruit you mention ... ngongsi-iksi?"

Miss Craven and Professor Moran. Oh dear oh dear! Nahi is certainly laughing at us now. I'd have thought they'd know better...

The rain, when it came, was thick and unrelenting, pounding on the young man and plastering his hair and clothing to his skin. He followed the natives as they led the way to the small caves that would be their shelter from the storm. Logan had been in the cave a few minutes, removing his water-logged gear and shaking the rain off of himself. As his eyes adjusted, he looked around the cave, noticing the absence of Moran and Tara. Were they still out in the storm? He was about to get up and go out looking for them when Enuti walked up to him, dropping the prof's weapons on his lap, with a brisk command to clean them, before walking away. Logan watched the retreating man' back for a second, swallowing the anger that rose suddenly within him. Logan was not great at taking orders, especially from someone that he was sure was involved in the death of his best friend and mentor, Brick.

"Your time will come, jungle man...your time will come." he promised to himself, already stripping Moran's pistol. This occupied him for only a few minutes, as he did a very cursory job. The weapons were immaculate, and a quick cleaning was all that was really necessary. He had seen Enuti head towards the back of the cave, and Logan assumed that is where Tara and Moran were also. So now they were having secret meetings without him, and giving him scut labor jobs to keep him busy? Logan knew that he was not beloved amongst this group, and this just seemed like another insult to him.

He decided to go and see what it is that they were discussing...he decided to be mature about it, and simply ask why he was not invited. At least then he would have some answers. Standing up, stretching to relieve the cramps that had formed, Logan lit a small cheroot from his gleaming silver case. His face glowed as he puffed it, his eyes staring into the darkness that the others had disappeared into. He shoved Morans pistol into his belt, making sure the safety was on first. He started walking towards the back of the cave, intent on getting some answers.

A soft clicking sound would have alerted the seemingly oblivious Logan to Beneli’s presence, even if the native had not moved in the darkened shadows that hid him so well. The movement was to raise his crossbow in a definite gesture of denial, obviously to prevent Logan from wandering off down the tunnels in the back of the cave, down one of which the Professor and Tara had vanished.

Beneli was not actually sitting next to that specific opening, but one next to it, afraid to make it too obvious what he was doing and rouse Enuti to anger again. His friend, while normally even tempered was meaner than one of the murat kinsin when angered. He had no doubt the threat would be carried out. And, he was coming to realize, deservedly, though why that was, he was not sure. But he would follow orders and shook his head at Logan, lacking the English to tell him to sit down back in the main part of the cave.

Meanwhile, Enuti had slipped to his feet when he saw where Logan was going, and moved to follow him, and, noting the boy’s expression, checked for his pistol on his belt. Perhaps Beneli hadn’t been the best choice. I probably should’ve sat back here myself. Oh well, too late now. He walked up before Logan had a chance to speak. “What’re you doing, Logan? It’s dangerous to wander off into the cave by yourself. Moran and Tara have both been on expeditions before, they’ll be fine. So please, do everyone a favor and finish cleaning the Professor and Tara’s guns for them. I can’t believe they’re not dirty after the fight earlier.” He hoped the slight stressing on Tara’s name would provoke a positive, helpful reaction. Enuti flicked his gaze at Beneli, who caught the hint, and lowered the crossbow fractionally, enough that it was no longer pointed at Logan’s heart.

* * * * *

As Enuti hurried to the back of the cave, missing Sui’s question, Janr did hear, and grinned. “That’s what I’m understanding, Ibbari,” he responded in his own language, speaking slowly and clearly, knowing Sui’s understanding might not be perfect. “Lucky professor.” He grinned again, white teeth flashing in his dark face. “I’m sure that nothing will be wrong, if we can keep Logan from figuring it out. He’s got a heavy attraction towards Tara.” He winked conspiratorily.

OOC: Ibbari roughly, “Holy man,” but a respectful title. I couldn’t figure out how to write that in English without making it sound cheeky.

The threat was subtle yet palpable, an undercurrent of tension rising to fill the space between them. In another time and place, Logan would have taken exception to this, but with a glance towards the crossbow-wielding Beneli, the young man again realized that this was no longer his world, but theirs. Of course, this didn't mean he had to go quietly. Enuti told him to clean the guns, and began walking away, ignoring Logan.

He hadn't seen Moran or Tara since the rain started, and had no idea where they were. He only had the natives word that they were deeper in the cave, and they were fine...yet he would not let Logan join them. Fear stormed through him, the memory of Brick's skull still fresh in his mind. Images of Moran and Tara tied up and being roasted on a spit danced through Logans thoughts, and he grew worried for their safety.

He had a choice: either trust the native Enuti, and wait patiently in a corner, or go and find out for himself exactly what had heppened to them. He looked around the cave, realizing only Beneli was paying him any attention.

"Fine." thought Logan to himself. " Screw 'em all, anyways. They don't care about me, why should I care about them." Logan walked briskly out of the cave into the rain, content to be alone in the gloom. At least the bad weather would notice him.

<<OOC: It's BEEN edited...I'm outside, and can't mess with anyones detailed plans...what more do you want?>>

Lucky professor? What about the girl? Such things can only end in tears, surely - he's older than me! ... Am I jealous? Nahi is surely laughing fit to raise a storm.

Sui nodded, saying aloud; "He is a young man, after all - not so long ago, I might not have been so different!" That had been before he'd died, of course.

OOC: And there my brain went blurk and dribbled out my ears onto the keyboard. Ack.

<<OOC: It's BEEN edited...I'm outside, and can't mess with anyones detailed plans...what more do you want?>>
Relax... not trying to attack you here, just pointing out that you missed something. Anyway, moving on...

Sorry Hack, SP et al...I had a really bad chemo day, so I was hyper-sensitive.

Moran's eyes opened slowly, his memory a little fuzzy. He remembered taking some fruit from Tara and he remembered exploring the cave, the rest was a little fuzzy. It was when he looked down and saw a rather naked Tara curled up against him that the rest of the memories came rushing back. Uh-oh...

A whole series of emotions rushed through him. On the one hand, it was a rather enjoyable 'event', on the other he'd just slept with a student. Well, okay, she wasn't his student anymore, but it still seemed a little awkward. He smiled despite himself at her sleeping form, trying to make sense of it all. Clearly what was done was done, but how would it change things?

Maybe things wouldn't change, wishful thinking.

They'd be a couple? Who knows?

Things would become exceptionally awkward for the foreseeable future? Yup, that's the one.

He sighed. It would be impossible to figure out how things were going to be, as long as she was asleep. Of course, how he felt was pretty important too, and he supposed that his concerns about Tara probably revealed something. He was just a little too overwhelmed right now to figure out what it revealed.

Into the abyss... He leaned over and gave Tara a gentle kiss, "Time to wake up..."

Pulled slowly out of sleep and moving slowly towards full awareness, Tara made out the sound of Moran’s voice, mingled with the dream she had been having. A dream that was perhaps a little more erotic than she had had in a while and one that had the professor as the leading man. She grinned to herself as she came into consciousness, her body shivering slightly yet at the same time feeling oddly warm, like the touch of skin against…

She shook the thoughts away, as she lie still for a moment, her eyes closed, her body resting against… Again she tried to chase away the remnants of her dream, one where she had come on to Moran, more than come on, had shared a very pleasant experience. An experience that as much as she might want it to happen, she knew never would, the Professor being out of her reach.

The dream continued to seep into her thoughts. Walking in the jungle, entering the cave, disappearing into the darkness… Her eyes shot open, and stared into the semi-blackness. Her fingers lightly moved where they lay, feeling the soft warmth of flesh. Suddenly everything became rushing at once, filling her head with a myriad memories, the blanks she had convenient pushed to the back of her mind coming to the forefront of her thoughts.

Her heart sank, as she slowly recalled the sequence of events that led her to this point in time. She had seduced Moran. She had led him on, caressed and coaxed, and now they were lying in each others arms…naked. What were you thinking? He is the man you respect most in the world, and now you’ve gone and changed everything. She closed her eyes wondering how seriously this would change their relationship. You were his student. What are they all going to think?

She sat up, her hand resting on his chest as she turned around to look at Moran. “Professor…I’m…” She lost her track, as she looked into his eyes, grateful that in the darkness he would not see the blush of her cheek. “I’m sorry… I don’t know…I don’t know what came over me.” Showing your true colours, Tara? But then he didn’t refuse either.

Well, she was awake now, and he needed a responce, pronto. He was mildly amused that he could plumb the depths of The Book of Eibon, and perform cerimonies for Tsathoggua, but he had no clue what to do when it came to responding to the young woman in his arms. He tried to parse what she was saying, and find the Deeper Meaning, but he was pretty pathetic at that sort of thing, too.

Luckily, it was dark in the cave, so his knotted brow probably wasn't obvious to her. He pursed his lips, trying to say something that wouldn't upset her or make him look like a dolt, but he was having a difficult time with that too.

It was about this time that his mind jumped up and pointed out that his continued silence could be taken as a Very Bad Thing, and that he'd better say something right quick. "No need to apologise..." He smiled weakly, "I..." He frowned, "Well... ah..." His mind lurched momentarily as he figured out what was pressing against his arm, "Perhaps we should get dressed? Could be embarassing..."

Tara moved her hand from where it rested on Moran’s chest, and sat back a little resting on her heels, as she scrabbled for a piece of her clothing. She found her shirt and began to slowly pull it on, her mind a million miles away from dressing. She could not help noticing how quickly he wanted to get out of the situation, which answered her questions as clearly as if he had spoken outright. He was certainly not impressed with her actions, not that she could blame him.

She shook her head wondering again what had come into her, chasing after the professor like a lovesick teenager. Even alcohol never made her make such blatant move on someone. Move? You practically jumped him at the first opportunity. She sighed heavily, as another thought popped into her head, more an image of a face, grinning at her. Beneli. Suddenly it did not take a genius to discover what had happened. She had eaten the fruit and then…and then given a piece to Moran.

Sighing heavily, her gut churned and she suddenly felt sick. If what she thought had happened, he did not even have much say in the matter. She had slept with the professor, and he only reciprocated because she had given him some kind of aphrodisiac in the form of a simple piece of fruit.

“Beneli, you damn…” She spat out, before holding her tongue, not wanting to embarrass herself anymore than she already was. Quickly she began to scrabble around after her clothes, hating the way she had ruined her friendship with the professor. She had heard the tales back in university, and could not help wondering if he had too. And had she not just overstepped the mark, and become what they had all thought about her. Right then, she wanted the earth to open her up and swallow her.

Moran frowned. It appeared that what he ment and how he sounded were, once again, diametric opposites. He'd managed to piss off Tara and he wasn't entirely sure how. He'd thought that avoiding discovery would be high on her list of concerns, but it quite obviously wasn't.

He sighed, pulling his own clothes on, trying to think of a way to explain what he ment without making Tara even more upset. He was just starting to get an idea of what might be acceptable when he became rather distracted by his vest. Or rather, his lack of a vest. He scrambled around a little, trying to find it and failing miserably.

Pulling his penlight out, he looked around the little side chamber they'd managed to find, the light shining dimly along the walls and floor. He yelped softly as the light landed on a corpse, "Yah!" He moved closer to the corpse; it looked familiar, "What, the...?"

Struggling hard to see all her belongings, Tara slowly gathered them together, not helped by the fact that her mind was really not on the task. She could not shake the feeling that the professor was going to be highly disappointed with her behaviour, especially once her realised what had happened. She let out yet another sigh, as she wished she had offered the fruit to another member of the party, say Logan, then no one would think any worse with her, in fact they would probably expect it. But seducing Moran. If the others knew what she had done…and she knew at least two of those present had seen her give the fruit to the professor.

She saw Moran flick on the torch, and begin to move around, his movements made easier to see from the beam of light. Watching him disappear into an anti-chamber, she stood silently, until she heard him let out a little cry. Suddenly becoming a little worried, she made her way after him, wondering what he had discovered, hoping it was not some kind of creature like the one’s they had run into earlier.

Moving up behind him, Tara did not speak, unable to see what his light had touched up. “Professor?” If he had wanted to stop her from seeing what lay before him, he had little chance as she stepped beside him, her eyes following the beam of light to its end.

Her voice shattered the silence, as she let out a heart rendering scream, echoing along the cave, loud enough to carry throughout until it reached the entrance and those waiting there.

In a fraction of a second, her world had fallen apart as there propped up against the wall, highlighted in the darkness, was the body of her father. She closed her eyes, as she turned away from the sight, wrapping her arms around the professor, burying her head against his shoulder, the tears already rolling down her face. “No, it can’t be. It can’t be him. He can’t be…” She could not bring herself to say aloud that he was dead, as if refusing to speak it meant it could not be true. She broke down in the professor's arms.

Enuti watched as Logan stalked out of the cave, and he sighed. That was not exactly how he had planned on that going, but it was better than Logan wandering back into the cave and finding out what was going on. He turned to Beneli, murmuring in his own language. “Make sure he doesn’t come back. If he does…” Enuti smiled tightly, and walked away. A few minutes later, he had returned and extended tranquilizer darts to Beneli. “Put him out.”

“Gladly,” was Beneli’s only reply. Fortunately, Logan sulked outside long enough it no longer mattered.

Meanwhile, Janr smiled up at Sui. “True, but all the same, distract him if you can, if you see him planning on doing something.” Then, he bent back to his work.

* * * * *

Hours passed, then more. The rain continued to pound the jungle, if anything, growing heavier. A small fire burned in the cave, and Janr was idly heating some camp food when the scream echoed loudly through the main chamber of the cave. His head jerked up, his hand bumping the pot where he was heating water for the dehydrated food, sending it to the dirt ground.

Enuti, who had been cleaning his own guns, and Tara’s, since Logan was being annoyed, was now resting his eyes while Janr and older local cooked food. His head jerked up as well and went instantly to the tunnel where Moran and Tara had vanished. Beneli was already spinning to his feet, his crossbow coming to the ready. “Beneli! Logan!” he shouted, “With me!” Then dropping into the native language barked commands to the others. “Janr, Sui, you all,” his hand waved, indicating the locals, “hold the cave and get ready to leave in a hurry if we have to. Only what we can’t replace.”

All this time he was moving towards the back of the cave, holding his rifle, his pistol already sitting in its holster, Tara’s gun gripped tightly in his hand, passed off to Beneli as he reached him. Slinging his rifle, he pulled his pistol and flashlight, flicking it on as he glanced over his shoulder to see if Logan was coming or not. The rich boy’s choice was not important to him, he just wanted to know what backup he had. Then he plunged into the opening in the rock, Beneli a couple steps behind him.

They moved deeper, moving as quickly as they could, Enuti’s flashlight picking up the tracks headed deeper into the cave. The way the footprints wandered and overlapped told him exactly what he figured on, but that was fine by him. He was fairly certain that Logan, if he was indeed willing to follow into the dark would not pick up on the significance. And now, he no longer cared.

The lack of further cries reassured him slightly, though it could have meant Tara was killed before she had a chance to scream again, and the images of things he knew of and imagined that could kill both the Professor and Tara with only a single scream or shout emerging danced in the back of his mind.

When he heard the weeping, his mind went off on another tangent, the Professor dead, Tara finding him after their recent activities, sexual intercourse being an emotionally binding activity among these people as well.

He stepped into the small alcove, a small corner of his mind realizing that the cave must have odd geometry to hide the sounds that must have issued for earlier, because they were not really all that far in. But then, the terrified scream of a woman is perhaps the most frightening and easily heard sound by the male of the species. He drew to a halt beside Moran, lowering his gun, his flashlight illuminating the corpse. “Professor Craven,” he stated, guessing the obvious.

The rain was relentless, pounding and icy cold. Logan stepped farther away from the warmth of the cave, walking until the entrance was only a dim glow in the distance, and the roar of the rain obliterating the sound of the quiet voices that issued from within. The young man was now completely alone with his thoughts. Pleasant, they were not.

He was alone. In a God-forsaken jungle, surrounded by strangers who didn't want him there, now an orphan twice-over. His father was presumed dead, missing for several years. Brick, the big soldier who became his surrogate parent, was also dead, seemingly at the hands of the very natives that Logan now travelled with. Enuti, the group's guide, knew more than he was revealing about Brick, and treated Logan with barely-disguised contempt. Professor Moran, a man that Logan respected, had no use for him, ignoring him most of the time, unless he had some scut labor for the young student to perform. Then there was Tara...beautiful, vulnerable Tara. She had rebuked all of Logan's advances, even those of friendship. The rumors and innuendo that circulated around campus seemed to be coming true out here in the wilderness...Tara wanted Moran. Logan was a squeeky third wheel.

A wave of despondent depression hit him, his mood suddenly matching the drenching downpour. At this point, he just wanted to go home...then realized that there wasn't anything waiting for him there...at least, nothing that really mattered. Logan was beginning to believe that they would never make it out of this accursed place alive, and that he would probably end up with the same fate as Brick and his team. He pondered his options, realizing they were few.

He could strike out on his own, and try to find his way back to the village by the river and wait for the next boat downriver. Logan didn't think his chances were very good that he would make it back alive...the memory of the large, black hunting cats still fresh in his mind.

He could go back into the cave and insist on returning. He was sure his request would be met with amusement, derision and scorn.

He briefly flirted with the fantasy of returning to the cave, pistol blazing, watching in satisfaction as the hollow-point round from his big .49 caliber handgun blows the smile off Enuti's face. He slid the gun from his holster, checking that a full clip was in, and considered the shiny blue steel.

It was then that he thought about simply ending things. He had no one that would miss him, and no real reason to believe he was leaving this place alive in any case. The pain in his heart bubbled to the surface, and tears sprung into his eyes, mingling with the rain on his face. His hand trembling only slightly, he raised the pistol until the cold steel of the barrel touched his temple. He sat there for a long time, the tears coming freely now. He slowly began to squeeze the trigger.

In the cave, the sound of a single gunshot danced with the echoe's of Tara's scream.

Just as Enuti and Beneli vanished into the back of the cave, the gunshot cut through the rain soaked air.

Or at least, it would have, had not the air been rain soaked and thick enough from humidity to cut with a knife. So as it was, the gunshot was dull and far away sounding, but Janr, at the very least, recognized it, and realized that Logan had not responded to Enuti’s shout at all. He reached for his crossbow hurridly, turning to Sui and the other natives, question on his face.

The two younger locals clearly wanted to go outside and find out what had happened, and Janr nodded to them, but held up his hand, signaling they should wait a moment. “Ibbari, will you and Uncle stay here? We must find out about the boy.” And without waiting for a response, he led the two younger natives out into the rain.

After all, screams from the inside of the cave, gunshots from outside, it could very well be that they were under attack from two directions at once. And Logan on his own probably would not be enough to secure an escape route if needed.

Moran was simultaniously surprized and not surprized at Tara's reaction. It was a strange position to be in, and his mind seemed to detact itself from the situation, watching the events as a dispassionate observer. When Tara's arms wrapped around him, the little bit of instinctual social ability he possessed kicked in and yanked his mind back inside his body.

He held Tara close, actually seeming natural in the position as opposed to the wooden discomfort one might normally expect. He gently held her, keeping quiet for now; anything he could possibly say wouldn't accomplish anothing good now, and could quite possibly make things worse: something he didn't wish to do. He made special mental note to not mention the other thing he'd seen before Tara clung to him. He was reasonably confident that telling her about the writing on the wall, in blood, was probably not what she needed to hear just now.

He nodded slightly to Enuti's question once the others had arrived, "Indeed." Being sure to avoid disturbing the sobbing Tara, he pointed Enuti towards the bloody writing, it was at the approximate height one would expect if the author was sitting on the floor.

No matter how tightly she closed her eyes, the image of her father was ingrained in Tara’s mind. The tears ran freely down her face, soaking into the material of Moran’s clothing where her head rested. She felt his arm go around her body, and for the moment all thoughts of her embarrassment at her previous behaviour was lost to the heartbreaking discovery; one that she knew was probably coming, but that did not stop it hurting.

Deep inside, long before she had even begun this trip, before she had even mentioned it to the Professor she knew that her father would not be coming back. She had seen the look of lost hope in her mother’s eyes when he had failed to return all those years ago, but her heart had held on to that tiny bit of hope, just like Pandora’s box. But now there was no denying her father’s fate. He would never come home, never take her in his arms and tell her that he loved her.

Tara tried to stifle her tears, knowing now was not the time for them to be shed. She had come here to find her father, and she had done that, but she had also wanted to complete his mission, complete what he had started, and she could not do that as a sobbing wreck, no matter how much she wanted to remain cradled in Moran’s arms.

Almost as if it was the kick she needed, she pulled herself out of his embrace, freeing him from the burden of having to deal with a weeping woman, and especially one who had made a fool of herself once already today. “I’m sorry, Professor…I…” She sniffled back her tears, as she rubbed her hands over her eyes, trying to remove the traces of her tears. “It was… I didn’t expect to see him.”

As much as she wanted to, she could not turn around and look at the body of her father. Her brief glance told her it was not a pretty sight, yet even if he was laid out nicely in a coffin she did not think she could bear the thought of seeing him dead. It was too final, like closing the book. She would do that in her own time, once her mind had adjusted to this new knowledge.

It was like watching an oilwell, pumping crude from the underground. The thick blood pulsed and surged against the angry, puckered wound, the crimson liquid steaming slightly as it pooled in a thick puddle around his head. The big pistol had done it's job, a perfect shot guaranteed because of the close range, the powerful slug tearing through the hard outer-shell of his skull, pulping his brain into soup, ending his life before his body even realized it. Now he lay there, twitching automatically as the last spark of life fled his nerve-endings.

Logan looked down at the big cat, and fired again.

Janr slowed as he came into sight in time for the second shot, visibly relaxing as Logan blew the animal's skull apart, lowering his crossbow, standing there in the rain. The two local boys slid to a halt on the muddy, rain soaked ground beside him, chests heaving from the run.

Janr looked at the cat, at Logan, and forced down a snarl. There would have been no danger had he not wandered off so far. "Come," he said in heavily accented English, one word he had managed to pick up. "Now." Oooh. Two words. He tilted his head back in the direction of the cave and opened his mouth again. Would there be a third word? Yes, there would. "Please?"

* * * * *

Beneli turned around the small room in the cave, looking about it, noticing a small crevice, that when he wandered over to it, was actually a tunnel. Enuti's gaze fell on Craven, then the wall, and his eyes narrowed as he knelt down. He read English, but the man's writing made no sense. Darkness. Tunnel. Horror. He continued moving his gaze across the words, growing more disturbed as he deciphered the letters which intertwined and over lapped. In my mind. Pain. That one was drawn out, the 'n' ending in a blood streak near the dead man's hand. There were more words, but even Enuti's command of English did not help him there, even if he could have figured out the letters in the dark red ink of a dying man's only hope.

He looked at Moran, then Tara, the passage through which he had come, and back at Moran. His question was obvious in his eyes.

Trembling slightly, more from the cold dampness than from fear, Logan flipped the safety on his pistol, and slowly slid it back into his holster. He looked down at the huge cat...it must have follwed their trail since their first encounter with the pack. The young man saw two arrows protuding from its haunches...it must have been injured in the original battle, then tracked the party to the the cave...for revenge?

Either way, the beast was dead now, and Janr was using all the English at his command to get Logan back to the cave, which is really one of the last places he wanted to be. Janr had been good to him though, and treated the young man with grudging respect at least, so Logan accompanied him back to the cave without protest. He kept his hand near his pistol, a small voice in his head warning him that something was still amiss.

He thought about the big cat he had just put down...injured, his family slaughtered, nothing much left to live for...except vengeance.

Logan understood the creature very well.

The people around her had gone oddly quiet, there was no talking, no movements, not the kind you would expect when coming upon such a scene. She took several deep breaths, accounting the quiet to be for her benefit. Closing her eyes for a moment, she stilled her nerves. She was a grown woman, after all, and she was likely to see worse things in her life. The body being that of her father was something that made the situation harder, but she could not remain a snivelling woman for the rest of the trip.

She turned around, facing toward the place where the body was lying. Opening her eyes, she let the vision come into focus in the semi-darkness, the picture ahead spotlighted by the torch. Everything before her threw itself at her attention. The position of the body, the condition it was in, but most of all the location of the hand. Letting her eyes travel up the wall, she saw what had obviously silenced the others. She continued to stare at the blood written message, unable to pull her gaze away.

Moran released Tara as she turned, letting her look at the remains of her father. His eye was drawn to the writting, and he moved over to it, trying to figure out what the late proffesor had been trying to convey, and why. Had he been hoping for a rescue? Unlikely, as he had picked a rather good hiding spot. No, Moran decided, Craven had simply gone mad. The 'ink' was clearly blood, and Moran was quite confident that it was Craven's own blood that had been used. He sighed softly, softly speaking a few unintelligable words and making a small, yet complicated gesture with his right hand, hoping that the poor professor was at peace.

He took a couple steps back, giving Tara some room, and stood next to Enuti. Speaking in sotto voce, he shook his head, "No need for that, just give her a minute... er, I think."

Moran was quite familiar with death, insanity, and combinations of the two. Women, on the other hand, was not something he was exceptionally familiar with. He hoped he was doing the right thing, but that was also what he hoped when he suggested getting dressed. Regardless, Tara needed some time, and Moran was prepared to give it to her, while still being around if needed.

Enuti continued to kneel, watching for a moment as Tara stared. He knew that she had to be in shock, though she had likely considered the development before she left. He ran through the permutations of the words in his mind, focusing on the words themselves, knowing he could ignore their horrible reality.

The blood did not flow in his veins as it did Tara’s. In essence, it was her blood that wrote on the wall of the cave, trailing from her father’s hand. He gently moved forward after a long moment and placed his hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Let us honor him.”

He stood in the center of the cave, warming himself by the small fire, rain dripping from him. Logan looked around the dim interior, wondering where the Professor and Tara were at this moment, and curious as to why Janr had been in such a hurry to bring him back to this unwelcoming place. He was chilled thoroughly, so he reached into his vest and pulled out a small flask, sipping quickly from it. The bitter liquid burned its way down his throat, leaving a feeling of warmth and calmness behind. The narcahol did its work quickly, and a peaceful buzz settled into Logan's mind. He looked at Janr questioningly, then offered him the flask.

"So...you come here often?" he asked, the sarcasm lost on the native.

As if pulled out of a nightmare, Tara turned to Enuti, as he spoke. She opened her mouth to answer, but no words would come, so she simply nodded her head. Taking in several deep breaths, she could feel herself coming to terms with the sight before her, her mind already separating the identity of her father from the scene that was laid out in all its morbid glory. She flicked her eyes to the Professor, giving him a barely revealed smile.

“Yes, I would like to honour him.” She finally found her voice after a few moments, her body calming down from its shock. “I know that we can not return him home, but…I don’t want him to become carrion for the strange things that seem to reside in this place to feast upon.” She swallowed hard at the thought.

Then without another word, and with no idea where the strength came from, she moved over to the fallen body, and picked up the left hand of her dead father. Holding it gently in hers, she tugged of the gold band from his finger. “Goodbye, Father,” she whispered softly, as she cupped the ring in her hands, before getting back to her feet.