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Rescue?

Posted on Mon Feb 6th, 2012 @ 8:40pm by Master Brem de Berg

Mission: Chapter 3: Mypos or Bust

The parts Brem had ordered arrived at the Steamhawke in a flurry of activity, three Kitlings, all of them looking shady parked the wagon on the dock next to the ship. Mr Himuro just happened to be on deck at the time. "Ho!" he called to the lead Kitling, "These the parts Brem ordered?"

The kitling at the back of the group looked up at the call, "Yesssss" it said, almost in a hiss, its fur mottled black and grey, "your master told usss there would be payment upon delivery" he looked at his two companions who were reaching into the pile of parts for weapons, "a box, about the size of a head, he said"

Himuro wasn't convinced by the trio and Brem hadn't told him anything about having to pay once the parts were delivered. "I will just go and see if I can find the box for you" he called down.

He needed to talk to someone about his suspicions, something just wasn't sitting right in the pit of his stomach.

It took him a few minutes of walking back and forth outside the engine room before he made up his mind, lie to the kitlings and then follow them and find out what was really happening. "Can't find it" he called as he leaned over the rail, "I will keep looking, could you come back in a few?"

The lead kitling shoot its head and muttered something before clipping one of the others around the head and staking off. Himuro was quick on their heels, close enough to keep an eye on them but not to close they would notice him.

A short while and a few quick costume changes later, a man draped in silks emerged onto a ledge overlooking a set of small islands, one of them with scrap piled high enough to see. Himuro took off his borrowed turban and cursed, he knew where he had to get to but not quite how to get there.

Brem meanwhile was on his knees, the cage inches above his head, was cursing the gods and everyone he knew at being trapped, about to die, in such a way. A crash of metal sounded followed by squelching of mud or bodies, it took as much space as he had to look around for what caused the noise, "Trust the gods to come-a-calling now!" he grunted. a wire whipped out from one of the machines he had been looking at earlier and slapped into his cage, ripping a gauge off one of the corners. The space was tight, with sharp metal showing but he had to go for it, either that or die.

 

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