Monsters On The Run

[Zaleramancer]

You are not human.

Not in the slightest.

You may be a creature of the night, something that lives in a lamp, someone who turns into a wolf or be a creature from the otherworld.

But, just now, you've woken up somewhere strange with no idea how you came to be here. Tall buildings made from strange grey stone, lights that buzz stand on tall metal poles, strange metal carriages rush down streets of dark stone without the aid of beasts.

A strange place. A sense of displacement nibbles at the edge of your mind. The last you remember is a time of swords and magic. Is this a different place.. or time?

(You are a creature from Folklore who has just waken up in a modern city with no idea how you got here. Do something. This is an exercise of spontaneity for you and practice with rules-lite DMing for me.)

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

I pick myself up off the ground and scurry quickly to some cover making sure to listen for any nearby dogs. I hide under the cover watching what's going on and transfer my Hoshi-no-Tama from my tails to my mouth.

(A Kitsune should be fine since it is a mythical creature, right?)

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

It was dark. It was so dark. He tried to sit up.

*Thunk*

Oh yeah, that. Oh well, time to see if the priests magic was everything they said it was.

*Thunk*

*Thunk.*

*Thunk!*

*CRASH!*

"MRRRRRRROUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He shouted through dusty lungs and a larynx of jerky as the sarcophagus lid shattered and Ammon rose up. He tore the bandages binding his arms and looked around in search of the tomb robbers that must have triggered his rebirth, ready to defend the sanctity of the pharaohs rest. After a few moments he lowered his arms in disappointment.

He wasn't in the tomb. Instead, he was in some sort of shining room, lights blinking on and off everywhere. Confused, Ammon tried extracted himself from the crude sarcophagus and failed utterly, finding himself face first on the floor. This was okay, the priest said it would be like coming back from a deep sleep, that his joints would be all stiff from the years of decay. With the help of the shiny table, he pulled himself up.

This was just great. He guessed the priests never expected someone to run off with the guardians. Why would someone even do that? He was a worker, he hadn't been buried with anything of value he'd been picked, mummified, given one task (Kill tomb robbers), shoved in a wall, and messed up so badly that he'd ended up getting plundered himself.

Bereft of anything else to do, he made his awkward way over to what looked like a door and accidental shoved his fist through it. He let out a sigh that came out as a growl and just walked through the rest of it, leaving it in splinters.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The halls were dark, and cool, and filled with strange oddities. Giant skeletons and complex devices. He could see placards in front of some of these oddities, and found that he could actually read some of the strange script they were written in. Some sort of spell, more than likely. They had told him that a number of spells would come on gradually, to better help him find the Pharaoh if he was stolen from the tomb and crush the ones who stole him.

Well, speak of Set. There he was now. Mission accomplished.

Ammon had to admit, he felt right at home in this part of the building. It looked like the Pharaoh was right at home to. Now this was confusing. Who takes someone from a tomb, along with all their possessions, and then sets them up in another resting place surrounded by all his possessions? In fact, looking around the room, it actually looked better than his real resting place. Yes, this was fine. No hunting down the perpetrators necessary. This was absolutely not just an excuse to avoid doing the work. He bowed to the figure in the box and turned on his heel to leave, but something caught is shriveled eyes. Little pots, with animal heads. He looked back at the man he was sworn to protect, even in death. He wouldn't mess them, right? No, no. In fact, it was obvious that he hadn't been using them. He walked to the display case and shoved his arm through it.

Instantly, a load wailing sound filled the room. His head swiveled around in a panic. What, had they given him new guardians to? He scooped the containers into his arms and shuffled a quickly as possible to the nearest wall. He shoved his fist through that one too and pushed the rest of the way, creating a nice Ammon sized hole into the nighttime air As he ran, he  Looked back at the building and saw lights begin to come on. It was impressive, all marble with pillars in the front.

Romans. That explained exactly nothing.

Later, some poor security guards were going to have to explain how a they lost museum property over the course of a five minute smoke break.

[Philote]

I awake slowly, my head dizzy inexplicably. The first thing that I notice is the bright sky above me, something curious since I had been hiding in a damp cave for at least three days. Looking around, a ring of scared statues gaze back at me, but other than them I am alone. I begin to rise up, the landscape around me was unfamiliar. A pool of water rested near me, as well as several foreign objects, beyond those though was a shear drop. Nearing the edge, I stand stunned as I take in the labyrinth below me and the gray pillars scraping the sky.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The ground shuddered as the first talisman glowed to life. It vibrated slightly with power in it's place beneath the grounds surface. One by one 12 more talisman began to glow as if reacting to the first. Together they formed a vaguely human shape as they once had when they were first placed in the original form. Slowly the clay that had collected about the talismans began to shift.

The ground cracked.

The ground rumbled.

The ground split.

A large clay hand, with a slightly glowing charm embedded in its palm reached questioningly out of the large rift in the ground. It latched onto edge of the rift and began the struggle to heave the massive clay body attached to it from the earth prison from which it had risen. It took several minutes, but finally the golem lurched completely out of the hole and began to lumber towards the bright lights that reflected painfully of it's flat stone eyes.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

A damp, unpleasant earthen touch came suddenly as a shock to his system. Processed wood; oak, most likely. The air was dense with the smell of mold and dirt and death. Eyes opened and were useless to illuminate the situation at hand, but it was fairly clear that something was not right. Muscles tensed and eased, as though waking from a long, disturbed sleep. Breath felt new, unfamiliar, though this body had once known breath.

A cough hurt his lungs, and he reached to feel his chest. Was his heart beating? Surely, his heart...? If he was breathing, surely his heart had to be--but there was no way to tell! Blast it, he could barely move his arms from his sides! Slow, his toes grew less numb, he could feel them now, wiggle them. His eyes began blinking on their own, he didn't have to force them now.

Another cough, and the shock of animation returned to his left side again. Why did his underarm hurt so, on the left side? And his sight grew accustomed to the dark. He was definitely in a box. A wooden box. Kidnapped by those damn Catholics, no doubt. What he knew of them, they didn't like Protestants like him and his immediate family, and they liked Pagans, like his extended family, even less.

Oh, when he finally got feeling back in his body, got his strength back up from whatever unconsciousness they had imposed on him, he'd give those damn soldiers a good, violent piece of his mind. Aleksander Vlcek would not be made out a wimp or a weakling for anyone--

"HOIST UP THE CRATE!" came a loud, bellowing cry, causing Alex to yelp in sheepish dismay, his leonine fortitude leaving him wholly for a brief instant, "BE CAREFUL! THE CURATOR'LL HAVE MY JOB IF WE BREAK ANYTHING!"

He only realized then, a faint vibrating under his body. A subtle, shivering hum. He was moving, but immobile; that was strange, even for what he had heard of the enemy. But, even stranger now, there came a sudden shock; a thud on either side of his box, and he could tell...he was moving. Just where had he been taken--?

THUD.

He was shaken again, and could discern he was on sturdy ground now. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. That question was soon answered when there came another shock--CRACK! CRACK! CREEEAK! THWACK! The box coming open?

And open it did, causing Alex to panic. What else could he do until he was sure he was safe? He closed his eyes, and tried his best to play dead, or at least unconscious.

"Yeah, look and see if you can find any rare coins or whatever." The voice came again, "The guys from the Czech division said they want Thirty Years' War display to be as realistic as possible. If we find something good, maybe we'll even get a raise. And if not, there's always the pawn shop..."

Alex sighed internally, a bit relieved. Good; from what he could tell, they were just treasure hunters. They seemed to have no interest in harming him, otherwise, he'd be maimed or dead by now.

"Hey, Bailey, look..." the voice came again, "This can't be...he doesn't look dead at all."

"Who gives a crap?" a second voice said, "Maybe they embalmed him or something. Keep checkin' for stuff."

The voice then read a German word off of a tag he found--kugelfest; 'bulletproof'. And from there, Alex could discern no more. But it didn't matter, he supposed; whatever this foreigner was saying was of no importance, just as long as they wouldn't...what the--? What was that? A hand? Why the bloody hell were they reaching so deep into his nice, comfy box? Whoever that was, was getting just a little too touchy-feely for comfort. Try hard as he might to remain still, Alex squirmed reflexively to avoid the touch. The hand quickly retracted at the sight. The voice grew loud again.

"THAT GUY!" the voice cried, "HE MOVED!"

A silent moment.

"No the hell he didn't." the voice came again, finally, "There's no such thing as a Zombie, or a--what does this tag say, a Fekst? Here...I'll show you."

A clicking sound. Poke, poke, poooke, sort of sharp in Alex's chest. Probably some kind of blade. Alex tried his best to keep a straight face, but the discomfort forced his face into a frown. A gasp came simultaneously with his dismayed frown, and he opened his eyes. If he was caught, he may as well see his captors. They...was this how the Catholics dressed? He blinked. They blinked. And then they screamed at the tops of their lungs and, aside from the one who passed out, they took off running at top speed.

He had no time to question it; he may as well count his blessings. As they fled, Alex looked down and decided to dust himself off quickly. If previous encounters were any indication, reinforcements would soon be on their way. It was time to make his departure.

[Philote]

I hear a woman call out as she wanders out of a passage into the area where I woke up. Turning around, I see her statue and the passage she came from. I decide to leave the way the woman came in, I had been hunted before I fell asleep and it was only a matter of time before these new humans hunted me too.

The passage leads farther down into the structure I woke up on. I pass by several levels without notice. Magical torches and endless halls of doors seem to fill each level as I travel closer to the ground.

Eventually I catch sight of a family as they leave one of the mysterious entryways. I leave their statues in the hall as I close myself within their room to rummage for food.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The lights that flashed at the golem grew larger and brighter. The golem lumbered towards them, curious. the lights continued to grow, and an odd blaring noise a began to accompany them.  Suddenly the light swerved to the side and a massive metal beast attached to the lights screeched past the golem.

The car flipped twice and landed in a smouldering heap several meters away from the now, startled golem. A man extracted himself from the car and began swearing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing standing in the middle of the road you......you.......m-m-m-monster!"

The man bolted from his car screaming and telling about the large gray monster. The golem watched him briefly before inspecting the car with a few curious prods. It's massive finger denting the metal with each poke. Slowly it rolled the car over examining the curious contraption. A long sharp sliver on metal sliced deeply into it's clay hand.

The golem glared at the offending metal and tossed the car with monstrous strength away from itself, down the road. It stared blankly at it;s handiwork before stomping slowly down the road in search of something else to fill its attention.

[Soliloquy]

I look around, confused.  I need a better view.  I stretch my wings, and fly up to a roof and look around.  what is this place?

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The road shuddered with each pounding step the golem took as it lumbered peacefully through the night. It was attracted to the bright lights that cut through the dark. It reached out for each one and crumpled it in it's massive hand. It would look down at each crumpled mass of glass and metal, drop it and move on to the next light.

It followed the chain of streetlights for a mile before it became enthralled by the large blocks that gleamed with squares of light. It tried to reach for the lights, but it's overlarge fingers smashed through the stone and glass that held each one, eliciting screams of horror from the residents within.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Ammon turned down an alleyway between the frankly Gigantic glass towers around him. He'd heard that the Romans had a knack for architecture, but seeing it in person was just amazing. But he didn't have time to admire the view just yet. He could have the guardians of Pharaohs new tomb after him. If they were anything like their Egyptian counterparts, they would chase him forever. He needed an edge on them. He set the jars on the ground, and sat.

Everyone new that Pharaoh was a living god. But what if his nonliving parts were put into someone who was living again? Would that supply them with divinity? In any case, some new organs would help speed up the priest's enchantments and give him an early edge over whatever guardians came after him. He picked up one of the jars, opened it, and peered inside by the light of some sort of street lamp. Two things that looked like dried dates stared back at him. He gave a celebratory grunt and smashed the jar, picking the dried eyes out of the alabaster shards and shoving them into his own sockets. The next four jars contained the Pharaohs lungs, intestines, liver, and stomach. These things he drank from the jars, slurping the intestines down like a noodle. Last, thankfully, was the jar congaing the tough. This he placed in his mouth and held there until he felt it attach. He rolled it around in his mouth, and instantly regretted it. The inside of his mouth tasted like sand.

He hadn't had a drink in years.
He was wondering in some Roman city, he had no idea where or when.
He just stolen from his boss, and was probably being hunted by Guardians from that temple.

"fg, lty. Halloween bnw'p gds October."

And then there's this prick.

He looked over to see a trio of men, talking and laughing among themselves in.... Latin? Was that Latin? He had never heard Latin before, and it was going to take a few hours for the spells to adjust. The middle man, the one doing most of the talking, was adorned with a number of gold necklaces and rings.

Great, he was being accosted by a member of the upper class. The others were obviously this mans slaves. Oh, was he being poked now? He was. The noble was poking him and laughing with the other two. Was he criminally stupid? Didn't he know what Ammon was?

It was then he received a kick, and that was it! Maybe he had taken this kind of treatment back when he was alive, but not any more. He rose unsteady to his feet, the men feigning fear and backing away before laughing some more. They kept right on laughing to, right up until the moment Ammon's arm shot out and gripped the leader around the throat. This man was a feather, easily lifted bodily into the air kicking and thrashing. The other two panicked. One drew a dagger and drove it into Ammon's sides. Ammon looked at him, looked down at the dagger, looked back at him, and did his best to smile. It must have been ghastly, because the pair screamed and took off around the corner.

He looked back to find the noble going a bit purple. Ammon reached out with his other hand, grabbed the jingling mass of gold around his neck, and dropped him. He placed the gold around his own neck as the noble scrambled to his feet and took off after his servants.

He shook the gold. More gold, Ammon thought, then he had ever had in his life. Maybe this wasn't such a terrible situation after all. He turned and clomped out of the alley. If his fortune kept up, he would find water.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Down the hall Alex ran for dear life. The end of one hall seemed only the beginning of the next; hall after hall, bizarre decoration after bizarre decoration--hopefully, he would not run across an occupied barracks--and then in the middle of his searching, there came a loud blaring. Certainly no man had the lungs to trumpet like that. But no matter where the sound came from, it didn't sound good. He had to find...had to find...had to--ah! There it was. The door.

And Alex knew what came of people who dawdled in the presence of such people as these. He was sure of it. There would be no time to waste. Though, admittedly, he would need some help to survive outside of this place. He had no idea how big a fortification he'd stumbled upon, how much security surrounded this place or how far he was from home. Perhaps there was something here that he could use.

"FREEZE!" Oh, well. So much for that.

No time for a language barrier; they were aiming what looked like small guns, faces serious, and didn't look ready to compromise. Likely, they wouldn't take money, even if he had any on him. He'd have to head for the doors without anything on him. Surely, he could pick up something later.

"I said FREEZE!"

Alex turned back, <<I'm sorry, Mr. Catholic Military Man, but I don't understand you. I speak normal, and you don't, so... I'm leaving now.>>

No more could be said. He turned back to the doors, and tried to jerk them open. Shook them a little more vigorously. Shook more, and finally the things gave, coming off in his hands. Alex looked down at his hands, and then to the other men, who had also turned their attentions to his hands. Surely, he thought, he couldn't have done that. The men, however, didn't seem to share the sentiment.

<<Wait, I can--!>>

Alex's words would be drowned out completely in the hail of bullets.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

"Is he dead?"

"Careful! We thought he was dead last time!"

"Shut up! He's just a d**n graverobbin' stowaway, not a Zombie or a d**n Fext-thing! Now, back me up, in case he has friends or weapons or a bomb or somethin'."

Alex groaned, just below a whisper. His head...his chest...his arms and legs, they...didn't hurt? Not...not even a little bit? Maybe he was in shock, or numb from the intensity of the pain. Certainly, taking a bullet couldn't be this easy, this painless. He was either very lucky, or very unlucky. But the way things looked, with the men approaching to see if he was truly dead, perhaps he should just...lie there, with his eyes closed. Hold his breath. Just in case.

"He doesn't look dead." came a familiar sheepish voice.

"I'm pretty sure we got 'im." came the second familiar voice, "Did you see how many bullets we put in his body? He's gotta be--", a hand reached into his jacket, presumably to assess damage.

"Hey, what're these--?" The third voice chimed in finally, "Holy hell. Bullets. Bent in, like we were just shootin' at a d**n wall..."

"What the hell--?" The hand retracted from Alex's jacket, "Not a single bullet! Not a single d**n bullet! We missed! Each d**n bullet missed!"

A kick came in Alex's left underarm, and Alex was jolted from playing possum. That really hurt!he wasn't letting those thugs do that again! He'd have to chance fighting them off. He whipped up, grabbed the first man he saw, and pushed him away with all his might. The man flew backward, into the other two, with so little effort, that it sort of disturbed Alex.

But now was not the time to question the flimsy exercise and training that had obviously made the Catholic soldiers such easy targets. Now was the time to get out. Surely reinforcements were on their way now. It had been nearly five minutes, and even those Americans, all the way over in the New World, had been said to get ready in less than a minute to fight against the British, if there was call for such speed. And now, there was call on him for such speed.

The doors now handle-less, Alex experimented with a pull, and a push would open the door. To relatively safety.

"FREEZE!" Alex sighed. There was that word again; and it seemed to mean the exact opposite of safety, "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"

[Philote]

I rummage through the living quarters I've stumbled upon, looking for food and any other supplies that could me survive. Reflecting on recent events, I come to the conclusion that there must be a mass of humans nearby considering the number of similar entrances to living quarters nearby.

As I explore, a presence suddenly appears behind me. A woman, yelling quite loud in my direction. I turn expecting a fight, for this woman to have stealthed upon me so expertly she must have been a hunter after my head. My eyes lock upon hers as I look at her through some strange glowing portal. The fact that she does not turn to stone as our eyes meet frightens me enough to cause me to stumble away from her and to fall back against a wall. I grab the nearest solid object I can find and throw it with all my strength towards the portal and by some miracle of luck the portal breaks and I stop to catch my breadth.

I simply rest upon the floor, not caring about the passage of time until an agitated banging is heard coming from the entryway into this living quarter.

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Bright lights flash by moving at speeds far faster than seemed possible for anything but Kami to move at. Was that where I was? Somehow in the divine realms of Amaterasu? How could that have happened? I edge out cautiously before noticing none of the buildings around were in the style of Yamato or even what the divine realms were said to look like. Flat, square, gray buildings made with... Stone?!? No one, but nobles lived buildings of stone and even then those still had some wood in them. Who were these people? I slowly make my way out of my hiding spot no more than a few feet before someone picks me up saying in a soothing manner (In a language I can't understand), "Aaaaw poor fox! How'd you get here? You must scared of all this. Let's get you to an animal shelter. I think you'll find it more to your liking there."

(Yamato is what ancient Japan is refferred to as in myths. E.G. Yamato-no-Takeru)

[Zaleramancer]

A loud masculine voice bellows out in a strange tongue.

"THIS IS SECURITY! Please open up."

[Philote]

More incomprehensible words. I shakily get back on my feet. No human had ever resisted being petrified by me before, it was my greatest tool for ridding myself of hunters who wanted my head. If they could resist it now, surely I did not have much hope of surviving.

I survey my surroundings frantically again, this time looking for a means of escape. The small rooms that connected to the living quarters were dead ends, and the ground was much to far from the holes in the wall. I'd have to defend myself if the humans made their way inside. Breaking off the leg of a chair, I brace myself against a wall around the corner from the entrance. Gorgons were generally stronger than humans, I'd have to hope that would be enough if these resisted my petrification.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Ammon was getting really tired of his clumsy, atrophied muscles. Sure they were strong, but he couldn't move at more than a brisk shuffle unless he wanted to get acquainted with the causeway. He would never be able to fight off the guardians that were undoubtedly after him if he had to focus on actually making a fist, no matter how strong he was. It was stupid. Stealing those jars had been the dumbest idea he had ever had, but gods id it hadn't been satisfying. Besides, he had been owed back pay for all the years he had spent lying in the dark.

It didn't matter that he had been dead, he'd still been doing a job.

He made his way down the side of a busy street. You could tell it was a street because their was traffic. Strange traffic, to be sure; moving faster than any horse with their fronts all lit up. But traffic was traffic, no matter what strange Roman vehicle you were driving. The buildings were strange to, much larger than anything he had worked on back home. Ammon had no illusions about what was going on: he was obviously years in the future, and probably in some part of the Roman empire. He'd work on the exact when and where when the translator started kicking in properly.

He was given his first sign that it was finally kicking in when he looked through the window of a small building on the corner. A sigh that read simply: Beer.

He crashed through the glass door, because he probably would have just broken it trying to get it open anyway. The man behind the counter let out a load shout and started speaking very fast, but it was mostly Greek to Ammon. He could pick out a few words, such as "Out" and "Police", but he was more interested in finding the lifeblood of any stable Egyptian diet. So he turned away from the man, and walked down an isle of brightly colored bags. Near the back, he saw meat tubes being gently turned on some sort of moving stove, ans could smell the cooking meat even with is denigrated nostrils. This was some sort of food shop, obviously.

He saw the glass doors beside the cooking food, filled with shelves of cans and containers of various liquids. The first shelf stored bottles of what was clearly water. The rest of them must also contain beverages, he inferred. It was going to take a lot anyway, so he may as well get started. He broke this door to, grabbed a bottle of water, clumsily tour the head off of it's clear container and drank deeply. It was gone in but a moment, a drop of water in the Sahara, but their was more.

The man was gone from his counter, disappearing into some sort of back room. Perhaps he was running to alert a guard. No matter, nothing he could summon was as dangerous as a another Tomb Guardian. He had to get ready to face that.

He grabbed the second bottle of water, and repeated the process.

[Zaleramancer]

A shrieking sound like the death cry of an animal rips through the shop. One of those strange horseless carts comes to a halt right outside, flashing with strange blue and red colors.

A rather large man in dark blue clothing lumbers forth, holding some small metal device.

He enters the shop and begins bellowing at Ammon. Something about hands?

--------------

Shsk

"This just in. It appears that the downtown Nordoff Museum has had a theft.  Details are still few and far between, but our sources claim that a recent additions to the Egyptian wing of the museum have vanished. Both a mummy and several canopic jars are the only confirme- Wait, it appears that an embalmed corpse to join the soon to be opened Thirty Years war exhibit has also disappeared-"

Shsk

"- I tell you, it was a huge man. He didn't look human. L-like something made from clay-"

"Uh-Huh. Sir, would you mind it if I ran a few drug tests-"

Shsk

"-You heard me right. Statues. Security from the hotel and police are working together to solve this mystery. Police have yet to give an official statement-"

Shsk

"What the hell is this. I keep watching the video, but I don't understand how a man can get up after taking that many bullets."

"Maybe he was wearing a bulletproof vest, Sir."

Shsk

"-Thanks Cathy. In other news, a recent slew of vandalism has left Police baffled. It appears that countless streetlamps have been burst-"

Shsk

"It's totally the aliens man. Replacin' people with statues of themselves."

"Duuuuuude."

[Philote]

The door is pushed open and a pair of footsteps lumber forward towards my position. I wait until they get close and then jump out from behind my cover, swinging my makeshift weapon with all my might. It makes no difference though, the closest human quickly turns to stone and the wood of my weapon breaks against his head. His partner quickly meets the same fate, but the third member of the group, a woman who likely escorted these guards to my location, is lucky enough to escape.

She runs down the passageway, screaming at the top of her lungs before I can see her face.It was time to make myself scarce. I had to get as far away from this mass of humans as I could. The snakes forming my "hair" were my only distinguishing feature, so I grab some cloth from the room to cover them up. Keeping my eyes down, I make my way into the hall were people are already poking their heads out at the recent disturbance.