10-15-2015, 09:28 AM
I should have caught a ride...
Couple hours later just storming off angry into the savannah, while stomping the occasional bushes, didn't seem like such a good idea. Stephan had seen several vehicles and some horseback riders speed past him in the distance. One of them even went close enough that the cloud of dust it brought up covered the somewhat-clean uniform in a fine layer of dirt.
DAMN YOU! GET SOME SHUTTERS ON THOSE EYES, LIKE YOU ARE USING THEM YOU PSYCHOPATH!
Coughing fervently from all the dust Stephan broke his stride for a moment and actually thought of coming back and catching a ride, but both stubbornness and pride would not allow that, so he just pushed on, leaving deep imprints in the dry ground of the once blooming savannah underneath him.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
The uniform has completely dried up by this point, water fleeing the clothes of the stubborn man just like the errant small animals fled underneath his feet. He was covered in dust and breathing heavily, but still pushed on, putting one leg ahead of another and then again. He could swear that he saw an silhouette of a town he was heading for on the horizon just moment ago but that might just been a mirage birthed by the descending sun.
Suddenly, for the first time in the last three or four hours, a roar of not one engine, but several pierced the calmness of the half-dead plains the Captain was traversing. Hoping for a quick ride out of here he stopped and turned around, only to see a group of low-to-ground motor-engines roaring like no noble steam-engine ever would, making a little dust-storm in the distance. Obviously noticing a lone figure just standing around between some shabby vegetation drivers picked up the pace and rushed towards him. What was surprising is not the rush, but that several of them were ramming into one another in hopes of gaining advantage, as if it was some sort of a race… and Stephan was the prize.
What the bloody… began Donnel as the feeling of unease crept onto him as he realized those might not, in fact, be other travellers. That was only confirmed when one of the vehicles, covered in now visible rusty spikes, barbed fire and proudly displaying numerous skulls on the hood, outran others with a roar of a tortured engine and a blast of fire from pipes protruding from the top.
Stephan barely had time to turn his left, armoured, half towards danger as the machine hit home, throwing him violently sideways with the sound of tearing metal.
Couple hours later just storming off angry into the savannah, while stomping the occasional bushes, didn't seem like such a good idea. Stephan had seen several vehicles and some horseback riders speed past him in the distance. One of them even went close enough that the cloud of dust it brought up covered the somewhat-clean uniform in a fine layer of dirt.
DAMN YOU! GET SOME SHUTTERS ON THOSE EYES, LIKE YOU ARE USING THEM YOU PSYCHOPATH!
Coughing fervently from all the dust Stephan broke his stride for a moment and actually thought of coming back and catching a ride, but both stubbornness and pride would not allow that, so he just pushed on, leaving deep imprints in the dry ground of the once blooming savannah underneath him.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
The uniform has completely dried up by this point, water fleeing the clothes of the stubborn man just like the errant small animals fled underneath his feet. He was covered in dust and breathing heavily, but still pushed on, putting one leg ahead of another and then again. He could swear that he saw an silhouette of a town he was heading for on the horizon just moment ago but that might just been a mirage birthed by the descending sun.
Suddenly, for the first time in the last three or four hours, a roar of not one engine, but several pierced the calmness of the half-dead plains the Captain was traversing. Hoping for a quick ride out of here he stopped and turned around, only to see a group of low-to-ground motor-engines roaring like no noble steam-engine ever would, making a little dust-storm in the distance. Obviously noticing a lone figure just standing around between some shabby vegetation drivers picked up the pace and rushed towards him. What was surprising is not the rush, but that several of them were ramming into one another in hopes of gaining advantage, as if it was some sort of a race… and Stephan was the prize.
What the bloody… began Donnel as the feeling of unease crept onto him as he realized those might not, in fact, be other travellers. That was only confirmed when one of the vehicles, covered in now visible rusty spikes, barbed fire and proudly displaying numerous skulls on the hood, outran others with a roar of a tortured engine and a blast of fire from pipes protruding from the top.
Stephan barely had time to turn his left, armoured, half towards danger as the machine hit home, throwing him violently sideways with the sound of tearing metal.
![[Image: wzGKapL.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/wzGKapL.jpg)