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       #Post#: 4178--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: Petswodahs Date: January 25, 2015, 6:57 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Alf closed his eyes tight. He brought the rifle up to his face.
       he squeezed the trigger of his rifle; the last bullet he had.
       The bullet he was saving for this bastard. As blood exploded
       from one side of the familiar face's head, Alf squeezed a tear
       as his thoughts flashed to the past.
       "Brother!" Alf said, happily. Lief, his brother, with honey-gold
       hair and sky blue eyes, walked up to him, ruffling his hair.
       "Alf," Lief said in greeting.
       "Come along, Lief! There's an endless road to rediscover." Lief
       came along with him.
       "It wasn't your fault, you know," Lief said, quietly.
       "Yes, it was, Lief. If it weren't for my stupidity..."
       Lief closed his eyes and grasped Alf's shoulder, stopping the
       two dead in their tracks. "It was NOT your fault, Alf. Our
       father didn't die in vein either; he died proud of his sons. It
       wasn't your fault."
       "It was and is my fault."
       "No, it wasn't. And we can redeem ourselves. Unlimited food,
       unlimited water. Actual wealth. It's waiting for us. We have
       good aim, we're good fighters; all we need is to join the
       African army."
       "No. Remember what dad said about the Africans. We should never,
       EVER bring down the democracy and fight for tyranny. He said
       he'd die before he'd fight for a tyranny, before he'd see the
       Africans stand tall."
       "Yeah, well look where that got him," Lief said, pissing Alf
       off. "We need only fight and the struggle for just water? Will
       be gone."
       "Water is sweet; but blood is thicker."
       "Come on brother. You're being rash."
       "No I'm not. In fact, I'm going to enlist with the rebels. To
       fight the Africans."
       "Ok then. Let me just let you know; it wasn't your fault. And
       neither is this."
       Alf turned suddenly, afraid. "What do you--"
       He saw only the metal barrel of a .45 pistol aiming directly at
       his head.
       'It's in reaching distance,' he noted to himself.
       "Don't do this, Lief," He said.
       "I have to," Lief replied solemnly.
       Alf blocked the hand and punched Lief's wrist, sticking his
       knuckle out and jabbing a pressure point, causing Lief to drop
       the gun, as Alf threw another punch, bringing Lief to the
       ground. Turning to walk away, Alf just heard a scuffle behind
       him, and before he could turn to fight Lief, there was a clunk
       and all was black...
       #Post#: 4932--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: Smasherbro Date: February 2, 2015, 3:46 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       He was a tall and sturdy man in his late 20's. he went back to
       his underground base where he was mapping out the land, so far
       he has not determined where on the old maps he was, but if he
       continued, he very well soon might.
       #Post#: 5063--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: TheCyclonicStorm Date: February 3, 2015, 2:37 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [quote author=Petswodahs link=topic=38.msg4178#msg4178
       date=1422233861]
       Alf closed his eyes tight. He brought the rifle up to his face.
       he squeezed the trigger of his rifle; the last bullet he had.
       The bullet he was saving for this bastard. As blood exploded
       from one side of the familiar face's head, Alf squeezed a tear
       as his thoughts flashed to the past.
       "Brother!" Alf said, happily. Lief, his brother, with honey-gold
       hair and sky blue eyes, walked up to him, ruffling his hair.
       "Alf," Lief said in greeting.
       "Come along, Lief! There's an endless road to rediscover." Lief
       came along with him.
       "It wasn't your fault, you know," Lief said, quietly.
       "Yes, it was, Lief. If it weren't for my stupidity..."
       Lief closed his eyes and grasped Alf's shoulder, stopping the
       two dead in their tracks. "It was NOT your fault, Alf. Our
       father didn't die in vein either; he died proud of his sons. It
       wasn't your fault."
       "It was and is my fault."
       "No, it wasn't. And we can redeem ourselves. Unlimited food,
       unlimited water. Actual wealth. It's waiting for us. We have
       good aim, we're good fighters; all we need is to join the
       African army."
       "No. Remember what dad said about the Africans. We should never,
       EVER bring down the democracy and fight for tyranny. He said
       he'd die before he'd fight for a tyranny, before he'd see the
       Africans stand tall."
       "Yeah, well look where that got him," Lief said, ****ing Alf
       off. "We need only fight and the struggle for just water? Will
       be gone."
       "Water is sweet; but blood is thicker."
       "Come on brother. You're being rash."
       "No I'm not. In fact, I'm going to enlist with the rebels. To
       fight the Africans."
       "Ok then. Let me just let you know; it wasn't your fault. And
       neither is this."
       Alf turned suddenly, afraid. "What do you--"
       He saw only the metal barrel of a .45 pistol aiming directly at
       his head.
       'It's in reaching distance,' he noted to himself.
       "Don't do this, Lief," He said.
       "I have to," Lief replied solemnly.
       Alf blocked the hand and punched Lief's wrist, sticking his
       knuckle out and jabbing a pressure point, causing Lief to drop
       the gun, as Alf threw another punch, bringing Lief to the
       ground. Turning to walk away, Alf just heard a scuffle behind
       him, and before he could turn to fight Lief, there was a clunk
       and all was black...
       [/quote]
       Someone likes Avicii . . .
       #Post#: 5312--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: K Date: February 5, 2015, 5:46 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Andrifa peered around a corner of the alley and rose before he
       quickly scurried across street. Upon reaching the other side, he
       peered back at the way he came, where Nedeljka and Perlita was
       standing. He wave a hand at them and they quickly hurried along
       as well. You never know who may be on the streets. After the
       war, all had changed for the worst, but Sydney wasn't as bad as
       the others. Sure, a missile hit Sydney but, Blacktown was still
       unscathed. Though bandits and robber have taken over the
       streets, but the majority of the people were still...
       sophisticated... if that could be said about the people now.
       The one thing you can't break is an Australian's spirit Nedeljka
       often said.
       And so it was. The survivors of the Sydney population are now
       all reorganising, electing mayors and building hideouts.
       We got back to the hideout later in the evening.
       "Any luck?" Erkan asked.
       "We got a few firearms" Nedeljka replied.
       "Good. Very good. Hey Andrifa, you don't want to upgrade that
       toy of yours?" Erkan asked.
       Andrifa looked down at his bow, "The day I shoot you with one of
       these you'll see it's no toy."
       #Post#: 5354--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: Petswodahs Date: February 5, 2015, 9:40 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       A gun was shoved in his hands. With it came seven bullets and 0
       training. They couldn't train people if they didn't have enough
       rounds to fire. The first night camping in the Arabian
       Peninsula, Alf was on guard duty.
       #Post#: 5375--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: K Date: February 6, 2015, 12:15 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       "A messenger left a letter, it came from Sydney," Erkan said,
       there was a murmur of interest among those assembled,"It says
       that they have finish rebuilding the docks!" a loud cheer swept
       through the crowd,"Furthermore, the have started building a new
       boat, 'The Diplomat'! We'll finally find out what happened to
       the other countries!"a loud cheer swept through the crowd once
       more, "A task force will be assembled from every city and a they
       will board the ship and set sail for England! Any volunteers?"
       Andrifa, Nedeljka and Perlita stepped forward along with several
       others.
       #Post#: 5381--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: TheCyclonicStorm Date: February 6, 2015, 12:28 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Rob will see you now.
       ;D
       #Post#: 5420--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: February 6, 2015, 4:53 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Ah, I still have no one. So far, I'm going solo. :P
       It was a while before Kara found a suitable place to settle for
       the evening, and it appeared somebody had been camping there a
       while ago. Shrubs had been unrooted and placed around a subtle
       dent in the hard ground, though the fact wasn't visible, if the
       lighting was dimmed. A large yellow-leafed tree stood slightly
       to the side of the dent, its branches hanging protectively over
       the site beside it, and a small pile of charred sticks and ashes
       lay beside it, probably by a fire when the place was used.
       Sighing, she dismounted the now-silent vehicle, and parked it
       beside the tree, the helmet already dangling from one handle by
       its straps. Her small raid had been a success, but there was no
       doubt that the inhabitants of the camp would be out, searching
       for her. It was no matter; she would be moving on early in the
       morning, and she would go north. Perhaps then she would be able
       to find a way out of Africa. She never knew where she was going
       - she had lost track years ago. How long ago, she didn't know.
       Every day was a repeat of the day before: Wake up, Move, Eat,
       Sleep. Occasionally, she went on without food for several days,
       but when she had enough for a few days, she would always somehow
       make it last for weeks. Food was scarce in many places, and when
       she did see the opportunity to get fresh meat, she always let
       the animal go. It was a reminder that there were other
       creatures, and she couldn't bring herself to hunt them anyway.
       Placing the old sleeping bag in the small dent, Kara made sure
       everything was hidden properly, before sitting in the middle of
       the bedding material. She'd have to get up early in the morning,
       she told herself. Follow the compass and go north.
       #Post#: 5441--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: K Date: February 6, 2015, 7:02 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Andrifa looked up as they reached the reconstructed harbour.
       Obviously, they put it back up. Wether or not it stayed seemed
       like an after thought...
       #Post#: 5457--------------------------------------------------
       Re: {RPG} The Lost World ~ [VT]
       By: Aidan Von Atapas Date: February 6, 2015, 12:09 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The African's camp was fully awake when General Hassan bin Jar
       reached it. He had planned on it being undisturbed and sleeping
       when he arrived, as is the custom amongst African military camps
       during the hot hours of the day; but after watching the
       movements of the soldiers within the camp for a quarter of an
       hour, his eyes lit up with joy upon realizing that it wasn't
       merely active, it was in turmoil.
       Now every good African soldier is taught how to wake up with his
       fists swinging, but very few African soldiers in those days were
       taught how to gain possession of their confused senses and open
       fire on an enemy. Thus, Hassan bin Jar knew what havoc could be
       wreaked on the disorderly Africans, and he was about to take
       full advantage of the situation.
       Why was the camp in such disorder? Hassan bin Jar did not know
       why, but it worried him only slightly. It was impossible that
       the Africans could know of his coming, for only he had know that
       morning where he was leading his troops, so betrayal was
       impossible. If it was an enemy of theirs, it was a friend of
       his; and if it was merely a wild animal, well, the battle that
       was soon to happen would soon scare it off.
       As the General was contemplating all this, the tandem-rotor
       military helicopter that had been, up until this point, sitting
       quietly in the middle of the camp, roared to life. Dust flew
       everywhere as the helicopter's blades began spinning, and the
       nearest tents broke away from stakes, rebelliously flying away
       from their owners in the sudden gust of air. Whatever had
       disturbed the camp, it was serious enough to risk blowing away
       everything in an effort to find it.
       The helicopter lifted off the ground. Ten feet, twenty feet,
       thirty feet; it stopped suddenly, as if deciding which way to
       turn; this pause cost it its life. The General held up a
       clenched fist, that was the signal. A jet of fire spurted forth
       from a small clump of bushes, and the combustible cartridge it
       propelled flew towards the helicopter with a scream, almost akin
       to a battle cry. It hit the rear rotor, and exploded, sending
       fragment of steel whistling through the air. The helicopter
       shook for a moment, and then fell to the earth, crippled by the
       loss of half of its lift.
       If the camp wasn't in confusion before, it sure was now. The
       helicopter exploded, bodies flew everywhere, and metal fragments
       embedded themselves in screaming Africans. Blood poured from
       just about everyone, and the one hundred tents the encampment
       consisted of were all soon enveloped in a relentless inferno.
       Hassan bin Jar shouted over the noise into his radio:
       "Go!"
       His thick Arabic accent was like a fuse that set off fifty
       bombs. That one single word brought death to the Africans,
       delivered by little metal messengers. The distinctive 'pop-pop'
       of rifles mixed with the rapid staccato of fully-automatic
       weapons, adding to the confusion. Tongues of fire spurted from
       the jungle surrounding the camp, and the screams of the dying
       were hardly heard above the sound of guns and the occasional
       missile. The Africans tried to identify the enemy, but failing
       to determine from whence the shots exactly came, they fired
       wildly into the underbrush; which did almost nothing but waste
       ammunition.
       After twenty minutes of fighting, the African resistance was
       completely decimated, and the troops of Hassan bin Jar rushed
       into the camp to capture the living and carry off anything
       useful than the fire had spared.
       The General watched all this happen with a satisfied smile on
       his lips. His graying hair spoke of age, but physically he was
       still as muscular as any of the men under him. His piercing
       black eyes surveyed the battlefield; his right hand fingered the
       handle of the Glock handgun as his side, and he cradled in his
       left arm the M14 service rifle  that had been personally
       responsible for taking out the leader of the camp.
       While Hassan bin Jar stood watching the actions of his men,
       Rokoff Statnik, the General's second-in-command, approached him
       and saluted.
       "General," Rokoff said in his Russian accent, "we have captured
       seven Africans who were yet living. Shall we kill, or do you
       wish to question first?"
       "No, do not kill them. I whish to question them first. The camp
       was disturbed when we arrived, I want to know why." Hassan bin
       Jar handed his rifle to Rokoff and walked towards where he could
       see the small group of African soldiers collected, and under
       guard.
       "Do you speak English?" The General addressed this question to
       the soldier who, by his markings, was obviously the highest
       ranked officer amongst the seven.
       "A little bit bwana, my father taught me when I was young."
       "Answer me candidly, then, and I shall not do away with you or
       your comrades. Why was the camp in confusion this evening, when
       it should have been asleep?"
       The African hesitated a moment, deciding whether or not to
       answer, but a menacing gesture from one of the guards persuaded
       him. "A thief stole from us papers, bwana."
       "Important papers?"
       "Yes bwana, plans and chart."
       Hassan bin Jar's eyes lit up at the mention of plans and charts.
       "Did you see this thief?"
       "No bwana, I did not, but this man tells me it was a girl." The
       African gestured to one of his fellows, as he said this.
       "How did a girl slip past your guards?"
       "I do not know bwana, the guards may have slept."
       "Which direction did she run when she left you?"
       "This man says she went that way." He pointed.
       "Did she have a vehicle?"
       "I do not know."
       "What was she dressed in?"
       "I do not know bwana, she was gone before anyone could look."
       Hassan bin Jar nodded, and motioned towards a supply truck which
       had not been damaged in the fighting. "Load these men into that
       truck," he told the guard, "blindfold them, and take them back
       to camp."
       "Yes sir."
       "Rokoff," the General addressed the Russian, who had followed
       him, "gather eight men together, we have hunting to do."
       *****************************************************
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