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Full of...
Houses
18%
 18%  [ 3 ]
And stores
12%
 12%  [ 2 ]
With parks
18%
 18%  [ 3 ]
Streets
6%
 6%  [ 1 ]
Sidewalks
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Nooks
12%
 12%  [ 2 ]
And crannies
31%
 31%  [ 5 ]
Total Votes : 16


Red Fox 104
Captain

PostPosted: Tue Dec 25, 2007 6:04 pm


It was very disappointing to know that there was no form of law enforcement or even a kind of militia to protect the town... and with no tower, or a high view point that would over look the entire town, it made sniping very limited. No view point, no back-up... this meant that he had to beef-up on his part on offensive. Something like explosives in the form of booby traps. The only problem was that he didn't have any nitroglycerin or the proper facilities and equipment to make it.
I guess I could try with a bathtub full of ice and start mixing...?
Reynard couldn't finish the thought, his experience with improvised explosives was very limited. His main expertise was sharp shooting with a long range rifle, but he did have a natural talent for blowing things up.
But once again, there's nothing to make enough booby traps with. His thoughts flashed to the small wooden box strapped to the front of his bike, it held two dozen MK2 grenades. Reynard removed a pad and pen from a pocket of his cargo pants and began to doodle an idea for a simple tripwire.
"I have a few frag grenades back at my bike..." He mumbled as he doodled. "If I remove to pin of one of them and place it carefully into an empty can while attaching a tripwire to it, then placing it between two trees..." He finished his doodle and placed it on the table in front of Finculmir.
Reynard's drawing acted like a comic strip; the first panel showing a stick figure with a fox tail and ears(with the word 'Me' written above its head)placing the bomb between two trees, in the next panel the the Reynard character ran and hid behind a third tree to watch...
"When the enemy trips the wire, it pulls the grenade from the can and releases the safety lever causing the explosive to detonate. And hopefully, taking out the thug."
The next frame showed a mean looking bandit wondering through the forest, the next frame was of the tripwire catching on his foot, and the next was the grenade blowing up. The words 'KABLAM!' in exclamation. The final panel was of the charred thug crumbling into powder and the cartoon Reynard flashing the viewer a gesture with his thumb.
"The only problem with this plan is that I do not have enough grenades to completely shield the town with booby traps, so maybe I need to think on this plan a little bit longer before I take action. But, you need not worry... I will inform both of you on things that are... relevant, to what I am doing. But I promise you will know from me when ever I will take action in a way that will effect your... 'clan.' "
Reynard stood, gesturing a wink to Finculmir. He turned and walked toward the window, his tail sweeping the hardwood floor. Placing a toothpick into a corner of his mouth, he peeked out into the empty streets. The condensation of his breath fogged the glass, and with his gloved finger he spelled th English word 'empty,' onto the glass.
Why is this place a ghost town?
He leaned up against the window frame, pondering this question.
PostPosted: Wed Dec 26, 2007 11:18 am


Sever looked over the drawings and laughed softly to himself, but seemingly was keeping his tongue... perhaps because he knew more (or, simultaneously, knew far less) than he let onto. Leaning over to kiss his wife softly on the cheek, he stood and walked over to Reynard, placing a hand on his shoulder softly. "...I appreciate you want to protect this den, as does Finculmir. We care for it, which is why this shop is on the outskirts... so that I can keep watch over them from the main source of our troubles. We've had our fair share of warriors simply... leave us and never return, so I'm sure you can understand why we're... strict about some things," He said softly, taking a small breath through his nose before continuing.

"I love explosives as much as the next ex-army soldier, friend, but you need to remember who we're dealing with. These kits... the members of the den... they go out and about, despite our isolation, and I'd hate for anything to accidentally take out one of our own."

Sever Citrin
Vice Captain


Red Fox 104
Captain

PostPosted: Thu Dec 27, 2007 3:53 pm


Once again Reynard brushed Sever's hand off his shoulder.
I swear if he does that again I'm going to break it off at the wrist and stick it in his ear!!
Reynard's annoyance did not appear at all on his facial features, instead he showed a cool, understanding smile.
"I understand, sir. Once a man is given the rank of General; it is very difficult to not be the leader from that point on..."
Reynard had just called Sever a power freak in his own special way... the man didn't seem to notice. Instead, he continued after taking a short breath.
"I love explosives as much as the next ex-army soldier, friend, but you need to remember who we're dealing with. These kits... the members of the den... they go out and about, despite our isolation, and I'd hate for anything to accidentally take out one of our own."
Maybe you didn't understand what I wrote on the window; this place is fricken 'empty!' Theres nobody here, its just you two, your kits, and me...
Reynard turned to look out the window again. The cold empty streets outside offered no comfort. He sighed, then said:
"Depending on how young your, 'kits' are..." Reynard was not used to this terminology. "they can be trained to avoid certain smells using a light form of hypnotherapy. By using hypnotherapy with something like a-- strong perfume, you can create a strong sense of danger whenever the subject comes into close proximity of that smell."
Reynard brushed past Sever to make his point more direct to Finculmir.
"If you two say you have a shop, then getting some perfume shouldn't be very hard. I can mark a dangerous trees with the perfume, and with some hypnotherapy; the 'kits' will naturally steer clear from the booby traps. It wont take a lot, fox noses are much more keen then a humans. The perfume will not be detected by any thugs. But like I said before, I don't have enough to do any real damage; its probably best to throw the grenades rather then set them up a traps..."
I knew that I should have grabbed some mines before I left.
Reynard shrugged a shoulder.
"The way I see it, we have a few options; first, traps would be great but without explosives that ideas shot, because theres no way I'm going out there and digging a pit trap..."
Reynard stepped over to a small cabinet that was set against the wall. There was a picture frame set on it. He picked it up; it was a picture of Sever and Finculmir, each holding a young child.
"Another idea would be to use Finculmir's physic ability to hone in on the thoughts of the thugs themselves. She might be able to lead us right to their nest; and from that point, me and Sever can just kill them all right then and there..."
As Reynard set the picture back on the cabinet he flashed Sever a smile.
"...or I could... go into the forest every day for the rest of my life with a hunting rifle and take them down one-by-one until they wise-up that its not safe anymore; and they just leave."
Reynard sighed.
"You guys have got a problem, and now its time to take care of it... tomorrow morning I'll go into the forest and see just how bad it really is..."
The toothpick lost its flavor, he looked around for a trash can and when he didn't find one, he put it back into his pocket.
PostPosted: Sat Dec 29, 2007 9:23 am


Mir's face looked troubled. "As adventurous as the children are, it's not them I'm worried about... They'll stay close if we impress upon them how dangerous it is. Levi is especially bright and contentious... He'll look after his sister. It's the others that I worry about with these traps. There are yet a few others who still live in the area, though I suspect they spend more time in fox form, or hibernating, than interacting with us." A flash of sorrow darkened her eyes for a moment, but she gave herself a slight shake and it was gone.

"I think it's better if the explosives are used directly against the bandits instead of as traps, as per your second conclusion, Reynard. As for traps, we can still set up SOME traps... Sticky mixtures, stink traps which we would be able to track, with our scenting abilities, perhaps some sort of knockout gas which would allow us to take some prisoners in return?" She glanced between the two men - she had been in battle before, but they were much more experienced and would be able to better tell her if this was just stupidity, or might actually help. For the moment, she avoided mention of her more intrusive abilities.

Finculmir
Vice Captain


Red Fox 104
Captain

PostPosted: Sat Dec 29, 2007 5:42 pm


Finculmir's facial features changed into a more troubled look.
"As adventurous as the children are, it's not them I'm worried about... They'll stay close if we impress upon them how dangerous it is. Levi is especially bright and contentious... He'll look after his sister. It's the others that I worry about with these traps. There are yet a few others who still live in the area, though I suspect they spend more time in fox form, or hibernating, than interacting with us."
Finculmir's eyes darkened with sorrow, but after shaking her head a bit; the sadness disappeared.
She must have thought of something very sad...
Reynard was curious as to what the weird goose lady had on her mind, but before he had an opportunity to speak she said:
"I think it's better if the explosives are used directly against the bandits instead of as traps, as per your second conclusion, Reynard."
Reynard nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I thought so... it would have been a waste of grenades too."
"As for traps... we can still set up some traps... sticky mixtures, stink traps which we would be able to track, with our scenting abilities. Perhaps some sort of knockout gas which would allow us to take some prisoners in return?"
Reynard displayed quite the quizzical look when he heard Finculmir suggestion of a sticky trap.
"What the heck is a sticky trap?"
Perhaps its something like a pit filled with something like molasseses or tree pitch with dirt covering its surface; if a thug falls in... he will be slowed down or stuck!? Geez, what's her other ideas? Sugar in their gas tank, a cat hairs in their water glasses...!?
He didn't like the idea, it sounded hard to set up... as for a stinky trap, Reynard liked his idea where they just used Finculmir's physic powers to hone it on the bandits thoughts. At least that way, he didn't have to fallow a stink trail for a few hours.
Okay, then that leaves knockout gas... do these people even have knockout gas!?!
"Uhhh, okay..." Reynard sighed. "No offense Mrs. Citrin, but your first two ideas are retarded... theres no way you have enough molasseses(or honeysuckle mead) to make a sludge pit, and as for the second idea; we don't even know that said thug will take us to the master lair... the way I see it, there might a few hundred hide outs(or caches) scattered through out the entire forest... tracking a single thug through smell would simply not be that accurate. Your mental abilities are much more suited for the task."
Reynard paused to rub his temples.
"And as for knockout gas... great idea! Do you have any?!"
PostPosted: Sat Dec 29, 2007 8:50 pm


Her ears quivered a little, and she flushed at his curt and somewhat rude dismissal of her suggestions. At least she'd offered alternatives... But she swiftly clamped down on her angry embarrassment and sat back on her couch a little stiffly, crossing her legs. "I was not thinking of a sludge pit, and it would not use those materials, however..." Shaking her head, she let it drop, annoyed with herself for justifying. "We don't have knockout gas, per se, but we do have a limited supply of ether and choloroform for more difficult medical cases. As I recall, we overstocked at one point, so we have a case or two of each in the shop's storerooms. Jars and bottles perhaps..." She indicated something about the size of a large applesauce jar and a 2-liter bottle with her hands, continuing coolly, "Surely someone as... experienced... as yourself could find some way to make practical use of them."

Finculmir
Vice Captain


Red Fox 104
Captain

PostPosted: Sun Dec 30, 2007 7:53 pm


Reynard could tell that his words of correction had put Finculmir slightly on the cross side.
Or slightly pissed off. Whoops....
"I was not thinking of a sludge pit," She said, a bit stern. But her tone softened. " and it would not use those materials, however..."
She shook her head in a final attempt to rid herself of her frustration.
"We don't have knockout gas, per se, but we do have a limited supply of ether and chloroform for more difficult medical cases. As I recall, we overstocked at one point, so we have a case or two of each in the shop's storerooms. Jars and bottles perhaps..."
She made a gesture with her hands, suggesting the size of the jars.
Then, in a a cool, and almost sarcastic tone she said;
"Surely someone as... experienced... as yourself could find some way to make practical use of them."
Chloroform and ether...?
Finculmir was referring to anesthetics.
At least two tablespoons of chloroform is required. It is then applied to a cotton mask that the patient with then breath deeply from. Then after a short amount of time, he/she will loose consciousness.
"Medical anesthetics? That it??"
Reynard cupped his hand over his mouth and mumbled;
"...That idea is also retarded..."
After clearing his throat he continued.
"Ether and chloroform..." He stopped, processing his thought. He wore a smile on his face that looked like he was going to laugh.
"Ahhhhh... okay." He said, breathing out. "If we can load the ether into a dart of some kind; hitting a thug with it would anesthetize him. And depending on where we hit him, say a limb like his arm... it would cause great anesthesia to that limb. But, thats hardly a 'knockout gas.' And as for chloroform, if we can sneak-up on a guy, or kindly ask him to take a few deep breaths of out now perfume..." He tossed Finculmir a wink. "But... basically what I'm trying to say is that all three of your suggestions are shot..."
Reynard felt bad... in a way he was picking on her. But were was Sever in all this...?
Yeah...? I just schooled his wife and he says nothing... must be off in own world.
"I'm sorry Finculmir. I know your trying to help, but... I just find it difficult to function under these conditions." Slowly, he returned to the window. "For a very long part of my life, I was trained only to kill. Nothing more. I have almost no knowledge of less or no-lethal tactics."
Reynard sighed.
"If we're going to fight these evil men, we need to accept the fact the some innocent people are going to get hurt in the conflict... if we can find a way to limit that number, then great. But using all-out non-killing force is not a good way to get rid of the enemy."
And it might get me killed!
Reynard squeezed his hand, the leather of his glove squeaking.
"And keep in mind that they will not show us the same courtesy..."
He stopped squeezing his hand, the burn on his palm gave him great pain.
PostPosted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 10:24 am


Sever had, admittedly, let the whole thing go on without his input. And while he was most certainly paying attention to the situation at hand, he was also taking other things into consideration. At any given moment, not even he was totally sure what he was thinking.

"I find it amusing that you survived as long as you did in the army without being more ... resoruceful," Sever laughed softly, obviously taking a shot at Reynard. "Chloroform has other uses besides what you know. It can be used as a catalyst to help create Mustard Gas, which is HIGHLY toxic and one hell of an effective weapon against bandits if you can get a remote detonator and have them accidentally steal a mustard bomb... or just hurl it into the woods into a group of them. Either way, it's a group of dead bandits and that's all."

He had been leaning next to a window, looking out of it, but he pushed himself off of the wall with his shoulder and shoved his hands into his pockets, giving Finculmir a reassuring smile. "Sadly for you, Reynard, I mostly gave up my more... violent past in favor of a peaceful future with my wife." Turning to look at Reynard and not giving him any chance to cut in, Sever's face suddenly looked very, very menacing... damn near evil. "She accepted me for what I was, and there wasn't a thing I was more than a cold, ruthless military general turned assassin, and one more feared than any other. Bounties on my head, people after me... spirits after me... hell, I've died and been reborn thanks to Althena, my Goddess and Protector..." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Outside of my gunsmithing forge, which I only do because I'm good at it and I make decent money out of it... I don't carry much of anything that's terribly useful for destruction unless you know how to use it."

Sever Citrin
Vice Captain


Red Fox 104
Captain

PostPosted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 1:45 pm


It was then at this point that Sever decided to step into the conversation.
"I find it amusing that you survived as long as you did in the army without being more ...resourceful." Laughed Sever.
The man thought he was being clever, Reynard was not apart of something as weak as the army, but he continued.
"Chloroform has other uses besides what you know. It can be used as a catalyst to help create Mustard Gas, which is highly toxic and one hell of an effective weapon against bandits. If you can get a remote detonator, and have them accidentally steal a mustard bomb... or just hurl it into the woods into a group of them. Either way, it's a group of dead bandits and that's all."
Sever had been leaning next to a window, looking out of it. He pushed himself off of the wall with his shoulder and shoved his hands into his pockets, giving Finculmir a smile. Reynard took the pause in the conversation to speak;
"Okay, for one; I'm not in the army... I am apart of an elite British commando unit called the Shadow Martial's. My specialty was sniping and demolition... and number two, mustard gas is an oily, volatile liquid, that is corrosive to the skin and mucous membranes and causes severe, sometimes fatal respiratory damage. Its use in WWI was a large mistake because the wind carried it back into the faces of the Germans. And if you don't mind, I would not like to repeat history. And if I remember correctly, at the beginning of this conversation Finculmir stated that we didn't want to use explosives because of the 'others' living in the forest... and as a trained professional with experience, mustard gas is not something we toy around with, its effective range is far to unpredictable; a slave to the wind. And trust me, its not a way to die! Even for thugs..."
There was a pause. Somewhere a clock was ticking.
"Sadly for you, Reynard. I mostly gave up my more... violent past in favor of a peaceful future with my wife." Sever turned to face Reynard, not giving him any chance to cut in.
Sever's face suddenly turned to a more intimidating look, very menacing... and almost evil look.
I'm just shaking in my boots...
But to be safe, Reynard glanced around the room and found a fire poker close by he could use if the man was really section eight.
"She accepted me for what I was. And there wasn't a thing I was more than a cold, ruthless military general turned assassin, and none more feared than any other. Bounties on my head, people after me... spirits after me..."
...Spirits?
"hell, I've died and been reborn thanks to Althena, my Goddess and Protector..." He took a deep breath, blew it out. "Outside of my gunsmithing forge, which I only do because I'm good at it and I make decent money out of it... I don't carry much of anything that's terribly useful for destruction unless you know how to use it."
For a moment Reynard thought Sever was referring to Greek mythology. He thought he heard him say Athena, The daughter of Zeus and Metis. Reynard tried to think of what Althena meant.
If memory serves, Althena is a fictional goddess of the world of Lunar. She is the primary deity of the inhabitants of Lunar, venerated as a goddess of love, beauty, and song. Likely her name derives from Athena, a goddess in Greek mythology. She is depicted as a graceful woman with long blue hair. She wears simple, flowing gowns. Her statues portray her holding a crescent moon in her arms.
Reynard looked at Finculmir... then looked back a Sever.
"So, what are you trying to say, Sever? Greek mythology gave you inner peace?"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 9:52 pm


Sever laughed softly and shook his head. "No... Althena. Goddess of Trade and Merchants. ... There are religions you don't know about, Reynard. But what you should understand is that my inner peace has come from... well... a literal death and rebirth. I'd hate to go into more detail.. painful recollection really," he stated plainly, looking at Finculmir. That was a painful memory for both of them.

"I'm aware of what Mustard Gas is. You.. needn't lecture me on what a chemical of warfare is," He nearly growled, rather perturbed at the youth. "I'm well aware of it's properties and what it does... as well as what it is to be a professional. I'm also glad you finally came clean of your own volition about that tattooed barcode on your left forearm. I was... curious about that, but didn't want to be rude about it, you see," He said while shooting a rather... angered glare at Reynard.

Sever Citrin
Vice Captain


Finculmir
Vice Captain

PostPosted: Wed Jan 02, 2008 10:32 am


Mir suddenly stood, raising her hands palm outward and quickly interjecting, "All right, I think we're all getting a little upset. We're very grateful for your expertise, I'm sure, Reynard, but it's late, and quite frankly you're going to have to learn a more tactful method for putting ideas down or you'll always put our backs up and you'll never earn our respect." She looked from one man to the other. "Why don't we put Reynard up for the night in the infirmary, and we'll all have a look at things again once we've had a chance to sleep and perhaps had a bite to eat, hm?" She was all gracious hostess once more, hiding her inner annoyance quite well. "Are you a vegetarian?" she asked Reynard, "What do you prefer for breakfast?"
PostPosted: Wed Jan 02, 2008 7:26 pm


"No... Althena. Goddess of Trade and Merchants. ... There are religions you don't know about, Reynard. But what you should understand is that my inner peace has come from... well... a literal death and rebirth. I'd hate to go into more detail.. painful recollection really,"
Yes, please don't... 'literal death and rebirth' sounds disturbing.
Reynard felt a little guilty for not completely thinking his question through. He didn't suspect that there were people who believed in that sort of thing. But then again, he was a long way from home, he should think a little more 'outside the box.'
As long as they don't ask me to do anything weird in their pagan religion, I'm cool with it...
Sever looked at his wife. A touch of sadness in his eye.
This man hates his past more then I do...
Reynard couldn't say he had a pleasant child hood... well, at least while his parents were still alive, things were great! But since then, he's been empty, and alone. The amount of static in the air rose when when Sever's tone of voice went form sad, to a more angered pitch. He didn't shout, but Reynard took it that he might have wanted too.
"I'm aware of what Mustard Gas is. You.. needn't lecture me on what a chemical of warfare is," The growl in his voice made Reynard pass a glance toward his pistol which was unloaded on the coffee table.
Reynard had a slight advantage; the consumption of alcohol lowers one's ability to maneuver, think clearly, see clearly... or fight, by at least 15% regardless of how much you drink of a regular basis. Sever was far from drunk, but...
I kick out his left leg with my right heel while at the same time break his sternum and I'll be out the front door before you can say 'screw y'all.'
"I'm well aware of it's properties and what it does... as well as what it is to be a professional."
It was Reynard's words coming from his mouth. Or at least Sever's interpretation of them.
He must have thought I was giving him a lecture!
It was typical, once you make a General, you can't unmake a General.
The moment you contradict, disrespect, or show any form of insubordination, they freak out and court-martial you. But in this case, he just might actually shoot me in the hip!
"I'm also glad you finally came clean of your own volition about that tattooed bar code on your left forearm. I was... curious about that, but didn't want to be rude about it, you see,"
Reynard was speechless... Sever was now shooting him an almost furious glare at him.
What the hell is your problem...?
He stood there, jaw almost agape.
Its alright, he just doesn't know how I feel about that kind of gas...
Reynard met Severs gaze with the look of a hardened solider, fearless and ready. Then Finculmir interjected:
"All right, I think we're all getting a little upset. We're very grateful for your expertise, I'm sure, Reynard, but it's late, and quite frankly you're going to have to learn a more tactful method for putting ideas down or you'll always put our backs up and you'll never earn our respect."
Sever's glare disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Reynard looked at Finculmir, a bit confused as to why she wanted to stop Sever before he started. A sad thought hit him.
For your sake Sever, I hope you've never beaten this woman... because if you have...
"Why don't we put Reynard up for the night in the infirmary, and we'll all have a look at things again once we've had a chance to sleep and perhaps had a bite to eat, hm?"
Once again, she was her perky self. It was like nothing had happened. Sever moved in to hug his wife.
The man's like two sides of a coin. Heads, he's the family man... tails, he'll rip my lungs out...
"Are you a vegetarian?" She said, throwing him a happy smile.
A stupid question, of course not...
"What do you prefer for breakfast?"
Honestly, Reynard hadn't been asked that question in a very long time. He didn't know... he didn't know what he wanted for breakfast.
Reynard stared into empty space, trance fixed on a memory of his mother making his father bacon and eggs.
He came back to reality to find Sever and Finculmir staring at him. Reynard shook his head a bit.
"...I... ...um... No. Thank you, but I'll be fine"
He started past them, stopping at the coffee table. Reynard picked up the revolver, opened the cylinder and started to insert the bullets. He slapped it shut then tucked it in his belt. He stopped at the door frame.
"I think I'll be having bandit for breakfast tomorrow morning. Sever, I will wait for you outside, as I do not know where the infirmary is."
With that, he was in the kitchen and out the back door.

Red Fox 104
Captain


Finculmir
Vice Captain

PostPosted: Thu Jan 03, 2008 9:02 am


Mir watched him go and shook her head mutely. Shall I come with you, dear, or would you rather you two go alone? she thought to her husband. She looked up at him. An hour or two of talk does not a friend make, but we need him, Sev... If only as another experienced fighter... She was both worried and miffed, and it showed in her tone.
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Role Playing: the inner workings of the Den

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