Tevos tries to yell something, but his voice is very horse. It comes out sounding like he had been a 3 pack a day smoker for his entire life. Failing this Tevos gives a shrill whistle, and tries to wave Jack off.
"lets see this one try that..."
Tevos's entire body relaxes, and the out of body exterance that is astral projection makes a great pain releaver. He floats over to the other hill, examining for any signs that this might be another crazy awakened tree.

Rebo can only mutter one word out of his mouth as the tree releases them.

"Ow..."

Sitting up, the psionicist realizes that he's got it easy compared to some other people. He'd offer to help, but he has no first aid training whatsoever.

He feels bad about causing injury to his teammates, but he couldn't think of anything else he could do with what he had. Maybe he oughta invest some time towards learning a more directed form of Pyrokinesis...

"You did the right thing, soldier," Dogma says, standing above him. "It was a tough call, but you made the right choice."

That makes Rebo feel a bit better. Hopefully, Sleel's sister would see things the same way, seeing as how he was the most severely injured by the whole debacle.

Grateful for the medical treatment he's received, Rebo gets up and hefts his duffel bag, continuing on with the rest of the team towards what's hopefully not another false paradise.

Slinky blinks as the others swarm around her. Her brow furrows, puzzled. Losing me? I’m…? I’m okay... She mouths words futilely eventually finding her voice, “It’s… Andy. Help An-“ she stops, looking puzzled. Wait, that’s not what the call him... Sleel! She opens her mouth again, not resisting as they lay her on the ground and attach the leads of the various medkits. “Sleel.. he’s my brother. He needs…” The medications hit her like a brick bat. Crystaline consciousness returns, her eyes unfog and the pain of injuries decend.

“Ow, fraggin’… ow,” she groans, pushing Jack’s and Gypsy’s hands away. “Hand’s off, ya’ll. What kind of girl do you take me for?” She rolls onto her side, wincing and looks around for Sleel.

“Hey, Andy. That was… something. You okay?” The horror of the past moments recede, and for the first time since they encountered Hate, Slinky seems to be Slinky again. Sort of. She helps her brother to his feet and nods to Dogma, “I’ll keep an eye on, ‘im.” She smiles uncontrollably when one of the Artys takes off. He’s alright. We’re all okay. Catching Rebo looking at her, her smile falters. Mixed feelings tighten her chest. She smiles weakly and shrugs at the psi-soldier with a look that is an attempt at understanding.

Over Rebo's shoulder, on a hill in the distance, Slinky sees another tree lurking and raises her arm, smiling, “Hey, look, guys. That looks like a nice place to rest.” The team looks at her like she’s grown a third arm and proceeds to shoot, shake and shrapnel the tree into oblivion. When the dust settles she blinks, dumbstruck, “I was kidding.”

She ruefully shakes her head. Guess I can’t blame ‘em. We can’t trust a darned thing here. A glinting catches her eye. A white curve of beautiful ivory, beckoning her. Myrminoth! She pats Sleel on the shoulder - he grunts inarticulately as his Arty makes the run back to the team after the tree-blasting gunship run – and she moves off at a stiff trot, still uncomfortable from the burns. Trust nothing. She looks down at the bow, attraction and wariness warring in her. She can feel it sitting there, forlorn, purposeless. Swallowing, hoping that of all the terrible things in this world, Myrminoth is not one of them. Hey there, she thinks at it, didn’t forget about you. She gives a crooked smile to the bow and trots back to the group.

“Where to now? I vote south.”

The next few hours are spent with Sleel scouting the area with his drones, seeing things that the Astral Scout, Tevos, misses. Together though, their reports indicate pretty much the same thing. The trees are the island's defenders from the outside. They are posted every 200 yards, across the whole of the island, according to Tevos, which is partially verified by Sleel who agrees that at least for the next few miles, they are planted within 200 yards of each other. Inland, about a kilometer away, a large wall has been raised that surrounds the entirety of the island as well, always 1 kilometer, about, from the trees. The corpses on the trees are not only human, but also many other horrific things. Evaluations of the corpses, reveal they were dead long before the trees got them, indicating walking-dead. Of course, now there's a hole in the island's defense, a hole for the horrors to come through towards what Tevos indicates, is a very peaceful and civilized culture within the interior of the island. Not 5 miles south, is a decent sized town, that is filled with people, real food, and good intentions.

Meanwhile, as the scouts were gone, Gypsy got everyone cleaned up and feeling tons healthier. Dry skin was removed, armours and clothing patched, and the team was ready for anything as the scouts returned to tell their findings.

Jack watched splinters fly as the ExEx round hit the trunk, the illusion abruptly shattering as the tree recoiled in pain, staggering backward a moment later when the tree was abruptly wiped from existence by Tevos' spirit. Jack slung his Cobra back over his shoulder and rejoined the group. See if a tree ever got to take _him_ by surprise again. He and Dogma strarted draping blankets from the larger pieces of rubble, creating some impromptu shade for the rest of the group to rest in.

He laid back, half dozing as Tevos and Sleel scouted out their surronding, reporting back with heartening observations, and a very disenheartening conclusion. He lay there limply for a moment and then slapped a hand to his forehead. "I'm getting this terrible premonition that if you poured back through the historical records, you would discover that the destruction of the fourth age was all our fault."

"Well, if we're gonna be repeating this process and taking the island's defenses down each time, maybe we should fly over these things on our way to the town," Rebo says. "Like we did over the ocean."

"Thanks Gyp, thanks Meneer," Slinky stands dusting her hands off, feeling 1000% better. She looks at herself in the lenses of her shades, pursing her lips at her cleaned up but now completely bald head, "This may be a good look for me. Soon as the tan lines even out." She brushes her fingertips over her ears and chuckles self-consciously, "Nothing to brush back."

The techie winces at Jack's worry, "Yeah, I was kinda thinking the same thing. We've done an awful lot more than killing a mosquito." She peers at the sky... Wonder if we'll go home to donut rain? I wonder if we'll go home... her hand tightens on Myrminoth.

Rebo suggests flying again, "I dunno. I really don't want to find out what these guys have guarding the skies. Can't you shield our minds or something?"

She peers south toward the town the scouts reported, "We should also think about how to let these folks know that we've opened a hole in their defenses."

"On that note... They might not be too pleased with our killing of a tree. Not only did we destroy their stuff, we opened them up to attack it looks like... Could Tevos maybe have a spirit dig a deep pit between the two trees? To prevent land-restricted things from passing it? At least as a patch-job, to force stuff to go around closer to other trees."

Sleel walks over to Slinky and rubs the top of her head. "Ya know, if we could find some wax, we could get a really nice shine going here... I may have some spare in my toolkit that the Hernando's won't be needing anytime soon." Sleel chuckles and hugs his sister.

Dogma stood peering into the far distance, towards where the Great Wall of Britain lay, while his companions discussed how to not trample these people's flowers. The wind was gentle here, and picked up his ivory long coat, made spotless once again by Gypsy's magic. The elf was secretly please his coat was all nice again. He was a creature of vanity.

He turned back towards his team members.

"There are two lines of thought on what time travel entails. One, our actions will affect the 'future', our present, in perhaps drastic ways, so we should limit as much as possible the effects of our presence. Two, everything in this 'past' already happened, and so everything we do is supposed to be so, and we cannot affect our 'present'; we are on a linear path. I susbscribe to the second theory."

"That being said, I only care about blowing up their defenses in as far as that they might not be happy with us. I don't care if a hundred 4th world villagers die in Horror attacks after we're gone. It already happened."

"So, frag these trees. Let the people here deal with it. If they can plant thousands of trees for kilometers around, they can plant new ones. We're going to head for the wall and levitate over it. If we can't levitate over it, we'll blow a fraggin hole into in. Then we'll go to the village and talk to the Big Boss over there and see if anyone in that village can get us back home. If they can't, we'll go looking for the next fraggin village, an even bigger fraggin village, and talk to the even Bigger Big Boss and see if HE can get us home. And we'll keep doing that UNTIL WE GET HOME." Dogma looked meaningfully at the home-sick Slinky when he said that.

"So pack up, and let's get moving."

"Dogma, haven't you watched sci-fi movies?" Rebo asks. "Touch anything in the past, and super-intelligent bugs, apes or what-have-you end up ruling the future. I think the wisest course of action would be to absoultely minmize our changes to the past, short of allowing our own deaths. These trees, for all we know, could keep the Horrors from ruling for longer than they should."

Rebo sighs as the weight of the situation hits him. Anything they do in this time could irrevocably alter the future, and they had no way of knowing how or how much.

"I hate time travel," Rebo muses, gazing at the rows of trees, just waiting for them to come within range.

"Im tending with the second one as well. After all, we DID save our future Boss's life. If we hadent he would have never been there to send us to go do it, or just get lucky when we did. Lets just get back to somewhere that has people. At least if they attack us we can just shoot the fraggers. For the moment we need some real food and some real sleep. And a plan to talk to these people." Tevos gingerly shoulders his bag. "And a big fragging storm spirit."

"I hate time travel," Rebo mused, gazing at the rows of trees.

"I think the appropriate phrase was, "Sure does suck to be casuality's bitch," Jack said, pausing for a moment before going on. "I believe the second theory, but that doesn't change the fact that this is still our present. If Horrors come pouring through that gap and wipe out all life in Britain, I'm going to feel really bad about it. I have never read any information about our trip here, so I have no idea how things are 'supposed' to be, so I feel no suppression of consequences for my actions."

Gypsy sits quietly as the team discusses the situation, and the various possible ramifications of their actions and time travel. He bemusedly eyes Dogma as the leader launches into his short tirade, obviously inspired more by frustration than anything else.

"It's too late to be worrying about our actions and their possible impact on the future. Already due to us, a whole Cairn has disappeared. Not to mention these trees and the whole savin'-the-boss situation.

"Speaking of Pale-and-Scaly, if we hadn't done what we had here, how would he have been able to be in the future to send us back? Judging from that fact alone, I'm thinking that we are supposed to be here, and any action we take or have taken has already been factored in to how the future turns out."

Gypsy pauses, brushing his whitened hair back behind his ears as he looks around at his companions.

"These people aren't helpless. From all that I've read, they have access to magics that we haven't even thought of in our time. It's possible that they'll be able to repair the hole in their defences and replace the two trees we have inadvertently killed. We just need to be sure to approach them in the right manner. They're liable to be somewhat paranoid, and take unkindly to strangers. Especially strangers with odd clothing, weapons, and mannerisms who have not only penetrated their defences, but left them wide open for any future assault."

Jack lifted an eye brow. "Inadvertantly? I'd say we were pretty fragging 'advertant' in blowing the drek out of those things. We just didn't know that they actually served a purprose besides making bow ties out of bowels at the time. Whatever else we do, I do not think we should leave this gap unguarded, until its maintainers are aware of the problem." His voice takes on a completly flat tone. "I dislike the thought of leaving inhabitants here open to unexpected assault by hostile spirits."

Gypsy gives Jack one of his long-suffering looks.

"Inadvertently means 'without knowledge or intention'. We didn't intend to make a hole in their defences, which is exactly what I said.

As for guarding the gap, what exactly do you suggest? Are you planning on staying here and defending it against one of the things we've dealt with so far? Three of us didn't even faze that Hate creature back in the Cairn, and the rest of you didn't make a dent in that pack of Shades, and lost two team members in the process. Just what do you think we are going to do that would be considered an effective defence here?"

"I will stand here and look stern and forbiding, until I have been rendered much to dead to do so further. Then the next person will do so, and the one after them, and the one after them, so on and so forth until someone comes up with a much better plan."

"I suppose it's POSSIBLE to try communicating telepathically with one of these things and see if they'll let us pass," Rebo says. "If I can see it, I can link with it. I just hope my brain doesn't get screwed up linking with what amounts to an ancient drone gun emplacement."

"So what do you think?"

Gypsy just looks at Jack, trying to determine whether the warrior is actually being serious or not. Shaking his head slightly, he responds to Rebo's question.

"I think whatever we decide to do in the way of defence would not be nearly enough to make any kind of difference. In my opinion, the best thing to do is move on, inform the locals, and try not to split up the team any more than is absolutely necessary."

With grim determination, the team finally decides on a course of action that would please everyone. Tevos, Jack and Gypsy stay behind to watch the gap, while the rest of the team take Sleel into town, his wounds still too much to walk on his own. Using his sister, primarily, for support, they walk the hour it takes to get to the outskirts of town. The first building they see is a small hovel with a tree engraving burned into the wooden door. Entering within, they find the ground covered with blood, and a table in the center of the room, surrounded by many stones that would seem to act as stools for some sort of small assembly. A man approaches the team from the back of the building, and babbles in a strange dialect. It's similar enough to Common that you are able to decipher that he's asking who you are, and how you came to be here. He has a worried look on his face, and it appears he's actually trying to look out the door over your shoulders.

Meanwhile, Tevos has the time and energy to summon forth a spirit (or more) as Jack stands guard over the gap. Gypsy, who hadn't volunteered, as much as been told to, remained with the 2, determined to try to make the best of things. He walks around a bit, trying to get a layout of the land. The tree there looked like a good place to go sit under to collect his thoughts, and he hadn't seen fruits that delicious looking in far too long a time. With little hesitation, Gypsy begins to make his way over to the next tree to rest a bit in the shade, to get out of the roaring sun.

Jack hadn't been completely serious, but every time he thought about simply walking away, he heard a droning in the back of his mind, the sound of countless scurrying feet, billions of scuttling, buzzing forms blacking out the sky and ground, all rushing towards that gap they'd made in the line of trees. With every step he tried to take, the image of the crawling, writhing mass of insects grew clearer and clearer.

"I think whatever we decide to do in the way of defence would not be nearly enough to make any kind of difference. In my opinion, the best thing to do is move on, inform the locals, and try not to split up the team any more than is absolutely necessary." Gypsy said.

"That is a much better plan," Jack agreed. "However, I will stay here looking stern and foreboding until the proper authorities have been alerted. The things that might come through this gap are not the kind of thing you want taking you from behind. There might be nothing I can do to slow them down, but I at least will be able to alert you that they are coming." That turned out to be a sentiment shared on some level by most of the team. Tevos volunteered to remain, calling up spiritual aid. Gypsy was ordered to by the boss, and didn't look happy about it, stalking in a circuit to get a lay of the territory.

Jack pulled out his shockgloves and clipped them to his belt. If something came down on top of him, it'd keep them handy if he needed to take them hand to hand instead of shooting them. If any attack did come. There was really no telling just how long those dead things had been hanging from the trees. The shades, if they really were warped nature spirits, might be confined to Ireland. There couldn't be too many others like the Hate Horror around. Anything that could take Ghostwalker in a stand up fight wouldn't even bother picking it's teeth with the guardian trees.

He noticed that Gypsy was still surveying the surrounding terrain, walking at a slow, deliberate pace. Then he noticed that Gypsy wasn't looking around, he was going in a straight line. Right towards another one of those trees. Jack broke into a sprint, hoping to reach the other man before he was in reach of the tree. "How many times are you going to make me save your life with a quarterback sack!?" he shouted.

<<Tevos! If you have a spirit ready, have it drag his hoop back here now!>>

Jack put on a burst of speed, but Gypsy was too far ahead of him. Then he realized, Gypsy was moving towards a tree. A regular, innocuous, not going to rip your guts out through your nose tree.

<<Err.... nevermind.>> Jack broadcast to Tevos.
------------------------------------------

Gypsy was not happy at all about the decision to split up the team. Ignoring the others left to 'guard' the gap, the elven sorcerer wanders over to the tree, tempted by the relief it offered from the sun and the thought of the fruit hanging from its branches. Sitting in the shade with his back against the trunk, he takes a bite of the juicy yellow pear.

Rebo says, "If I can see it, I can link with it. I just hope my brain doesn't get screwed up linking with what amounts to an ancient drone gun emplacement."

Sleel shoots him an angry glare. "Hey! Don't be insulting my friends by comparing them to those monstrosities. You don't have to worry about brain-fry with drones..."

Coughing again, and putting his arm over his sisters shoulders, Sleel walks with the rest of team back into town. His drones flying about, Artys up high in the sky, Ajax back behind the team, Gunthers on either side, and Little Birds out in front.

Sleel looks at the man talking in what might be bad common and says, "Medicine. Healing. Can you help me?" before coughing again and slumping up against a wall.

Before departing with Dogma's Meet-The-Natives team, Slinky asks, "Hey... could one of y'all make an image of the trees still being there? You know, an illusion?" She shrugs and hitches herself under Sleel's arm to better support him.

At the tree-marked hut Slinky watches the man quietly, surprised when Sleel speaks up, he's not usually one for chit-chat. She crouches near him, concern on her face. She looks up at the man who is craning his neck to peer over Dogma's shoulder.

Wonder who he's looking for...

She clears her throat, "He is acquainted with fire. And eats bad trees." She indicates her brother's burns and bandaged belly, making a clawing motion and then pointing at the symbol burned onto the door.

Dogma looked at the copious amount of blood on the floor and hoped he'd walked into a butcher's shop. He raised up his hands in the universal sign of "we come in peace".

Slinky tried her best to get the 4th world man to understand Sleel needed help. "I think we'll have better results if Rebo mindlinks with him"

Dogma made an attempt to say something along the lines of "translator" while pointing to the psychic soldier.

"Rebo, tell him we came a long way from another Cairn and that we need his hospitality, that Sleel needs help. Try to avoid answering if he asks how we got past the defenses"

Dogma flashed he 4th world man a warm smile.

Rebo concentrates on the man and opens the lines of Telepathic Communication...

Images flit through Rebo's mind, transferring from him to the 4th world man:

An overheard view of a map, showing the North America, Ireland and the UK land masses.

Another image of the team super-imposed over North America, then floating to Ireland, then floating over the ocean to the UK land mass. (Translation: we came from the island to the west, but we're not native to there).

An image of Sleel, alone, in a black background, with a skull symbol slowly floating down towards him - the universal symbol for approaching death.

An image of Rebo kneeling before the 4th world doctor, begging and pointing to Sleel - the symbol for imploring the man to treat him.

An image right after that of the 4th world doctor (the one standing before him) coming over to Sleel and tending to his wounds.

As the mental image tends to Sleel's wounds, the background becomes white and the skull floats away from Sleel and the Rigger gets up, patched up and whole.

Crouched near her brother, Slinky shifts uncomfortably as she looks around the hut and at the dark stain that draws Dogma's eyes. Nasty place we've stumbled in to. She looks at Sleel and smiles what she hopes is a reassuring smile.

A sudden feeling of tension makes her tighten her hand on Myrminoth, and she can feel sweat on her hands and at her temples. Hot in here, or just me?

She looks up at Rebo, the unfocused look in his eye. Ah, Rebo's doing his thing. She looks at Meneer and rubs the back of her tired neck. Poor guy. I think this is harder on him than on us.

And how the hell did his cairnmates know the word for tree? A look of puzzlement furrows the girl's brow.

Finishing the delicious pear, as quickly devouring another, Gypsy secretly breathes a sigh of relief that nothing untoward seems to happen in association with the tree under which he is now sitting.

Having had the time to finally come to terms with the decision to split up their resources, the sorcerer switches his perception to the Astral to keep watch over his companions as the small group awaits the return of the rest of the team.

The strange looking man, whom the team is trying to communicate with in the blood filled hovel, suddenly opens his eyes wide as realization comes across his face. The images portrayed by Slinky and the wounds of Sleel put him into immediate action. He doesn't sit around long enough for Rebo's communicative skills to be put into effect, almost as if avoiding mental communication, blocking it from happening. Instead he makes a motion and some men come barging in from the back of the building, and the front door. You lower your stances in preperation for battle, but then realize they seem to be here to help. 2 grab Sleel, allowing Slinky to follow, and take him to a bed in a much cleaner hovel that smells of incense and herbs. The rest of the men stand guard over an elder looking man who looks more decrepit than the trees. He wears a cloth around his eyes and ears, and shakes uncontrollably as he walks away from the blood filled hovel towards the missing tree. In his hand is a blood saturated sack, holding something the size of a large apple. The remaining men keep around the old man as he slowly makes his way up the hill. Coming to the top of one of the last hills, the team members which chose to follow the old man and his entourage, find the remaining members sitting under a tree, eating a fruit that looks similar to a pear. Apparently, this spot looked threatening enough to be trusted. The old man continues towards the spot of the missing tree, leaving the rest of the team open to chat, follow, or wait here.

Meanwhile, Sleel and anyone who remained with him, hear that this is but 1 of hundreds of trees which have been destroyed in the past 2 days. A Tsunami apparently wiped out most of the southern side of the "mainland"'s defense about 2 days ago. A makeshift wall is being created to cut the land in half, and offer what protection it can from the hazards of the horrors.

Dogma has a brief involuntary nervous chuckle when he finds out a tsunami hit the coast 2 days ago. Well, it wasn't really their fault, was it. Well, whatever.

Dogma radio briefs the rest ot the team on what's going on and invites anyone who cares to come to the village. <<We're gonna rest here a bit, until Sleel is better. I'll see about trying to get some answers about going home, too. You guys can do the same, and take some R&R. Keep this channel open for emergencies, though>>

With that, the elf goes about exploring the village, and enquiring about strong time-teleporting magicks, and who may know about such phenomenons.

Slinky starts up in alarm, reaching reflexively to shove Gypsy to the ground as the other natives swarm into the bloody hut. Duh. He's with the others. She relaxes as she sees the men move to tend Sleel and wonders if Tevos shouldn't be here as well. The old, old man totters away, clutching the bloody sack and that horrible meaty looking apple. Slinky looks away, tasting bile in the back of her throat at the thought of what that 'apple' might be. She drops her eyes guiltily at the mention of the tsunami that destroyed a stretch of the island's defenses.

<< Keep this channel open for emergencies, though. >> Dogma's voice across the comms has all the authority she's come to expect from the young elf.

She shares a guilty look with him as she transmits, << Hey, Tev, you might get down here too. We're getting Sleel fixed up and your innards could probably use whatever passes for SOTA medical care here. >>

A soft chime sounds and Slinky looks down at her arm puzzled. "Email?" She blinks and her eyes unfocus as she scans her image link, reading.

>>>>> [Hello, Do yuo want to spned 1esS on your MED|CAT|ONS? Visit PharmacyByMatrix STORE and SAVE OVER 70%!1!! Have a nice day.
P.S. Trust uss and you will like our shop!] <<<<<
-SENDERUNKNOWN (04:07:33/16-MAR-2064)

Her brow furrows and she blink. Her jaw hangs open, "I just got spam. There aren't even computers here!" She continues to stare blankly at the data in the image link, shaking her head. "I don't fraggin' believe this."

Gypsy watches the approach of the group from the village, noting the slow pace set by the ancient one leading them. As they pass, the sorcerer spies the blood-drenched sack that the old man carries in his trembling hands, and tries to push down the feeling of loathing that wells up inside him at the thought of its contents.

The elf's comm link relays Dogma's message, but despite the thought of real food and what passes for civilization in the small village, his unreasonable repulsion towards their cargo, and even his earlier misgivings about the team being split up, Gypsy decides to follow the group of villagers and observe whatever ritual is about to take place.

A tsunami. Great. So this island is no safer than Ireland.

Wondering about why the guy resisted mental communcation, Rebo sits down and thinks about what the team's going to do next. If the island's defenses were compromised, the Horrors could be here any hour now.

This...is gonna get ugly.

Jack staggers up to the tree that Gypsy is sitting under. He'd undergone a few too many adrenaline surges, and it was wearing him down. "Mind sharing one of those?" he asked.

He was still sitting there a little while later when the Boss passed back ab update. [/i]We are historically responsible for the destruction of England.[I]

Even later, he watched intently as the old man and his entourage approached from the direction of the town. Something unsavory was going to happen, he was sure of it.

<<What I really need is a pizza and a six pack, but somehow I dont see those being invented anytime soon.>> After the trees, and especally the recent false alarm, something was really nagging for comfort food.
Tevos climbs to unsteady feet and joins Jack & Gypsy on the jaunt to the establishment. "Oh protector of the waves, watch over this area and its soroundings, and send a sign if trouble does approach"He whisprers under his breath. Somehow the prose just worked out better in his head, but it was enough to get the point across. Tev left the sea spirit to watch for the horrors, hopeing that since the water around Ireland wasnt corrupted, prehaps this was an angle to work.

People, its PEOPLE! There was hope yet.

The old man, his eyes and ears covered, approaches the tree under which Gypsy had found comfort. He reaches up and picks one of the fruits from the tree and begins eating it, but rather than swallow, he would spit the remains into the bloody bag he carried. He begins to head towards the water, and as some of you go to follow, hands on your shoulders indicate that you should remain here, watching from atop the hill. The guards remain low, layig on the ground, spears and swords drawn for battle. Meanwhile the old man drops the sack on the remains of the previous tree, and you watch in amazement as the sack seems to vaccuum the remains into itself, growing to near adult size in a matter of minutes. As it grows, the old man sits there mumbling in an ancient arcane tongue. You realize suddenly that you should be there with him, the tree needs your help to grow, it needs a caretaker to nourish it to life, and you're the perfect choices. You stand up, preparing to rush to the spot when you notice the swords and spears pointed at you. Apparently, the magic of the tree was starting to come into effect, and you will yourselves to lay down low with the other guardsmen. Finally the old man stands up and begins hobbling your direction on his stick as limbs of the tree poked and swung wildly, as if trying to find a target, somehow always missing the old man in the process. One of the guardsmen leans over and says something to the effect of: "Uses other's senses to locate, if we closer, then tree can find man from our eyes."

Meanwhile, the town proves to be quite hospitable, though you notice that there are no men or women between the ages of 16 and 30 anywhere to be seen. You are treated very kindly though, and are provided food and water as needed. In questions to the whereabouts of the missing ages, you gather that they are to the south, fighting the horrors as best as they can. When asking about time-travel, the natural response from the people is humurous in nature, they mostly suggest just waiting, and tomorrow will come on its own.

The rest of the team returns within a couple of hours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you have a chance to rest, the team as whole as it can be, and the world currently in a state of peace.

Rebo spends the next three days trying to refine his new psychic power, Extra-Dimensional Pulse (EDP) in an effort to combat the shade beings and the Horrors when the come to this island.

We're gonna need all the help we can get against those things.

Dogma spent a relaxing three days mingling with the villagers. They were a welcoming bunch, and it was very nice to be under the open sky and not fear shade attacks or a scorching sun. He managed to haggle, through a complex series of transactions and deals that few could have followed, supplies out of the locals, such as real food and comfortable traveling clothes.

His queries on time travel magic, or even any powerful sorcerer who would know such things, yielded nothing. So, as he had proclaimed earlier to the group, it was time to head for the next biggest village and seek answers there.

Under the watchful eyes of the guards that accompanied the old man, Gypsy observes the whole operation with some fascination. The tense moment when the newly-formed tree tried to once again work its magic on him was a horrid reminder of what the team had previously experienced, and the sorcerer was secretly grateful for the armed men that barred his way towards certain doom.

Afterwards, the elf accompanied the villagers back to their settlement, checking in with Dogma before looking into Sleel's condition. Satisfied with what he finds, Gypsy settles in to enjoy the first peaceful days since he team had arrived in this time.

Over the next couple of days while waiting for the rigger to fully heal, Gypsy draws Slinky away from her constant vigil at the bedside of her brother, hoping to ease her worrying by reminding her that the team needed all their various electronic gadgets fully charged before they once again hit the road. He also hopes that the time they spend together over the mundane task will help to break the tech-wiz free from the strange affliction that seems to have taken hold of her over the past week or so.

Slinky finds it a little hard to get over the gruesome first impression of these new fourth world people. And she worries, about Andy, about Meneer and about Gypsy's sudden interest in electronics. That tree musta rattled something loose in his head. Since she's what passes for the team's Quartermaster, Slinky makes sure everyone's gear is cleaned, checked, reloaded (where applicable), charged, fixed, polished and shiny (where applicable).

The drones are gleaming and near to bursting with stored radiant energy. Hers and everyone else's gear is neatly unpacked, checked and repacked just like they like it. Down to Jack's contraband chips of late 20th century synth pop, and Tevos' figurine collection. The techie's taken to wearing her ruthenium cloak, turned white and then off to conserve her gel packs. She settles more into herself, but still feels a gnawing in her gut when she looks at the pure white bow.

At Gypsy's urging she picks the local authorities' brains for what it means that she knows the name Myrminoth and gets some training with more mundane bows. She finds the discipline not unlike her more gun-oriented marksmanship, but more ...connected some how. Archery just feels right. By the time the team is rested and ready to head off, she's warmed up a bit to the natives here. Especially a certain endlessly patient archery trainer.

She's a little disappointed that they didn't make any headway or even get some direction about who might know how to get them home, but she keeps it to herself. She is all smiles and shining scalp when the team is headed out to the next town.

A chime sounds at her forearm. "Not again." She scans the incoming mail.

>>>>> [Fire your boss! Ever want--- ***DELETE***

"Huh. Don't I wish." She shakes her head and falls in between Gypsy and Sleel.

The end of 3 days finds the team healthy, full bellies, and missing home more than ever as they eat leaf wrapped salted dried meats instead of sandwiches and Soy by-products. However, by the end of 3 days, you feel like you've been on vacation for a month. Rebo proudly completes his training on his spell, and Sleel feels like a million dollars. But everyone is also restless, it's not comfortable to be comfortable, and the sad looks on the village, and the comments around the fires, indicate that the men and women who left to defend the wall should have been back by now. The south is open for invasion, and the team is sitting comfortably around fires on pillows. It was time to move into action and make something of their time here.

As if on queue, Gypsy notices the astral tether line becoming less and less taunt, and suddenly, in the middle of the village, sits the huge Dragon amidst the screams of the villagers. Anyone recall what species he considers to be snack food?

Startled to once again be standing face to face with the pale Dragon who would in the future be his employer, Gypsy is still somewhat less surprised than his companions, due to the strange Astral link still existing between them.

Ignoring the panicking villagers, the elven sorcerer quickly steps forward in front of Slinky and her brother, anxious to avoid any misunderstanding of the type that they narrowly avoided back in the Tir. Gypsy cranes his neck, looking way up at Icewing's reptilian visage, and nods respectfully before addressing the Great Dragon in Sperethiel.

"Greetings once again Icewing. I am pleased to see that you are well."

Dogma was enjoying a herbal tea and a pleasant conversation, sitting on a log near the fire, when suddently a sort of oppressive weight is felt, quickly followed by screams of terror from nearby villagers.

Dogma looks up and sees the Big White Pimp Daddy of Denver sitting in the middle of the village, with a look on his face that may or may not indicate hunger.

The elf freezes with a dumb look on his face, dropping his tea.

Luckily, Gyspy seems less startled then everyone else, and begins parleying with the Dragon.