And Now For Something Completely Different
 

Greetings, This is a private forum for a role playing game I am running with a couple of friends. It will have capitalist Orcs, and motorized transforming wheelchairs, and Britany Spears clones, and cross dressing wizards, and female Paladins, and Trekkies and lots of other normal things. For the moment it's a closed thread. But if that changes I will update this post to say other wise.

More to come..........

Milhouse crashed down on the nearest rock and took a shot from his inhaler. He then checked his tricorder before looking down the path. Louis and Clark were making their way up the steep rocky hill path leaning on each other, followed right behind them by JT (James Tiberious, named such by his parents, a second generation Trekkie and according to rumor conceived during a Star Trek Marathon). JT, in the best shape of the bunch, was only moving as slowly as he was cause he insisted on taking Tricorder readings on everything he saw.

Mortimer Phineous Snird was no where to be seen. And that was just fine by Milhouse. Mort (as people called him behind his back) always had a bad habit of ruining games like this; ordering the others around, passing off his opinions as fact and generally telling how everything he saw sucked and how he could do it so much better. Milhouse seriously hoped they had lost him around that last bend or he had a coronary. Mort's Jean Luc Picard uniform stretched to nearly bursting under his portly frame. In fact most of the time his stomach burst out from under the shirt and unlike any Star Fleet captain he'd ever seen, Mort's clothes always bared the stains of what he had eaten recently. He was in all ways a slob, ruling over the rest of the club with an iron fist, and if Milhouse had enough bravery, he would kick Mort out of the club. But he and the other members didn't, so they just remained cowed under him.

Milhouse was roused from his morbid grumblings by the arrival of the out of breath weezing of Louis and Clark and the electronic warble of JT's Tricorder. Louis and Clark crashed down beside Milhouse on the rocks. Louis turned to Milhouse and after he caught his breath, said "This has to be one of the most realistic games we have ever taken part in."
Milhouse took another pull on his inhaler, "Yeah, But allowing us to bring Phasers, tricorders and communicators into a D&D setting? Isn't that a bit unfair?"
"Who cares!" replied Clark as he examined his non-working Phaser once again. "I can't wait to meet a goblin, and an orc, and a troll!" and he mimed shooting each one with the phaser while making the corresponding Phaser and dying creature sounds.
"At least they cold have given us a transporter too." griped Louis.
"Hey guys!" Shouted JT, his voice filled with excitement "I think we've found the monster! The Tricorder says it's right here!"

The group stood up quickly and drew their Phasers. This was the moment they had been waiting for, their first combat of the game. But after a tense moment they realized that the creature the villagers had referred to as the Terrible Mountain Lord was no where to be seen. All they saw was rocks, dirt and the same low lying, odd looking shrubs they'd seen on there way up the mountain. In fact some of the shrubs here were burnt like a lot of the ones they had seen on their way u[p the mountain. But no horrible monster. All three paris of eyes turned towards JT who was still happily taking readings, this time of a really large clump of burnt bushes which still lightly smoldered. JT turned to look at them with the same excited look he got in his eyes when he found a particularly interesting new bug. "Hey guys I finally figured out what's up with these burning bushes."
"Who cares about some bushes" said Clark, getting aggravated in being unable to start shooting something. "Where is the monster?"

As if in answer the club's personal monster finally caught up with them. Mort's large frame climbed into sight and from his lips issued his well known and dreaded phrase of disdain for anything that annoyed him "Poorest * gasp* excuse for *pant* a Game in *wheeze* all the universe *gasp* and alternate dimensions" His phrase sounding less dreaded with him trying to catch his breath as he said it. With his hands on his knees and his chest heaving he looked from person to person almost daring anyone of them to disagree with him so he could have the pleasure to argue them down. When he had seen that no one wished to challenge him on his claim, which disappointed him, and he had caught his breath, he proceeded to go on with his litany of all the things wrong with this game.

"First thing is the traveling. Who in their right mind wants to travel through miles of empty terrain with no random encounters to help you level up. It's a waste of all my precious time. IF you are going to do this then at least create an over land map mode so that you can travel between quests quicker without having to look at this poorly rendered graphics." But that was the problem, Mortimer thought as he gathered his thoughts for his next volley. The graphics weren't that poor. He had played many VR games and had worked in multiple computer game companies, and in all his time he had never seen graphics as realistic as this. He certainly hadn't been involved in VR games where you could smell and taste the food put before you. He wanted to know how they were doing this. No, he needed to know how they were doing this. He had made himself very rich, and very hated, by stealing secrets from the Game companies he had worked for. No one could ever prove he did it, he covered his tracks to well he told himself with no small pride. But even if they couldn't prove it, he was on a blacklist with every gaming company in the world, and every new one that was formed was told about him. No matter how good he was at programming, and he was the best, no one would hire him. But if he could figure out the secrets to this game, he knew that he could get a job anywhere. This level of bleeding edge tech would make all of the Big Ones drool. And he would just sit back and let them fight over him.

"Second," He continued, "Is the level of realism. The bar wenches in the tavern had practically no chests. If I want to see girls with no chests, I'll visit my 6 year old cousin. For video game terms, if she isn't at least Laura Croft, I don't want to see her."
"And while I am on the subject of realism" he said to his court, too terrified to even breath least Mort see it as a challenge to his superiority "I'm sure you mental midgets have missed that our monster du jour is this 'stone' dragon here." He pointed behind them all to what the rest of the group had initially thought was part of the mountain. In truth it was a massive stone dragon, sleeping peacefully. In fact they realized in sheer terror, that the stones they had sat upon weren't stones at all, but the claws of this monster. The massive monster stirred slightly in it's sleep, as if bothered by the noise coming out of Mort's mouth.
"Nowhere in any of the first through fourth edition Monster Manuals will you find a reference to a fire breathing stone dragon There just isn't any kind of thing. It's just stupid!" Mort said, voice rising. And with that he kicked the nose of the sleeping beast. And with that blow the dragon stirred to see what was bothering it's sleep. TJ tried to point out the Dragon was wake but Mort was too far gone into his tirade to notice the warning.
"The setting isn't realistic, the women's figures aren't realistic" and with that he began to poke the dragon in the nose with his finger to emphasize his point. "This dragon isn't factually realistic, look realistic, feel realistic, sound realistic, it just plain isn't realistic" he said with one last hard poke. And with that to his horror, he realized what he was doing. Poking an awake dragon. With a movement of practiced speed the dragon snapped Mort up into his mouth and with a snap and a gulp swallowed him whole.
Then the dragon looked down on the terrified crowd below him and said "I dunno, it tasted pretty realistic."




The wheels of the wheel chair drop from the solid ground of where Falco started to the muddy ground of the game world. He finds himself on a muddy, rutty road which is cut through an old growth forest. Surrounded by thick and tall deciduous trees which in some places were too close together to even fit a person through let alone his wheel chair. The sunlight shown down through the overhead canopy in patches. No one appears to be on the road but on either side of him, are many unseen eyes watching him from the woods.

"Aw...hell." Falco cursed, as his wheels made an impressive 'Squuuelllch' in the thick mud. The setting around him was breathtaking, the game renders stunning, and the closest he'd been to a real countryside since... since the accident. He had to give his housekeeper-slash-nurse Hannah credit for that, though he wasn't actually about to admit it, she'd sure gone out of her way to find an incredible game...
But did it have to be mud? "Ha..." he started to call for her, looking around, before realizing she hadn't followed him into the game, "...Damn." He added, running his fingers through blond hair so pale it had been mistaken for white. He felt very out of place all of the sudden, in his jeans an coat, with one of Hannah's knitted blankets over his lap (though she hadn't knitted a kitten onto it like she'd initially threatened too, thank God.) But he didn't feel as alone as he thought maybe he should have, which was strangely disquieting.
Uncertainly, he rubbed his hands on his knees, half comforted by the familiar object, though frustrated that, even in a VR world, he was still trapped in his chair.
Maybe it was just Hannah watching him, they probably had all kinds of ways to monitor what was going on in the game.
Hell she was probably recording it and planning to put it on you-tube for her grandchildren. Hadn't one of the little heathens been teaching her to be more computer savvy? Where was he supposed to go anyway? Town he supposed, though he wasn't sure what direction that was. Forward he guessed, which was going to be easier than trying to turn this beast in the mud, and, in a small fit of nerves, did his best to encourage the chair to forge forward. It felt a little claustrophobic here, but also vulnerable. He'd have compared it to being oggled by paparazzi about to charge, if he thought they had any remote interest left in him. It had that feeling of being appraised, and he didn't like it, or know if he was imagining it.
Unfortunately what he wasn't imagining was the enormous difficulty of trying to move the wheelchair over the muddy, rutted road. It wasn't even remotely designed for this kind of travel, and struggled, bucked on bumps, roots, and rocks, and balked at every opportunity, and if he was really unlucky, the mud could only get worse, and then he'd really be stuck. Or worse than that, he could tip the entire affair.
That thought provoked the distressing idea that it might have been the entire plan, to rub his nose in his vulnerability and enjoy a good laugh.

They watched from the shadows intently eyeing the new arrival. A bit of confusion traveled through each of them as they watched this strange looking individual. This wasn't the Knight on horse back they were expecting. It looked more like a wizard but it's wierd metalic contraption bothered each of them. This was different. And the tribe didn't work well with different. Was this something they were supposed to deal with? They didn't know and that bothered each of them. They grunted silently amongst each other trying to figure out this new comer. With out the Cheftien or Grek Forloin they were unsure what to do. But Grek and the Cheftien would be here soon and as long as this new individual stayed put they could wait.

But when the new comer started to rol forward through the mud they realized their time for waiting was over. They couldn't wait for Grek or the Cheftien. So they fell back on what they knew best. Each shouted a loud battle cry and rushed out fo the woods to attack, weapons raised. Breaking out of the trees and into the sunlight, all grey/green bodies and pig like noses and tusks. Weapons raised they charged the enemy from all sides and hoped their previous plan would work on him.

If someone was laughing, he hoped they hurt themselves in the process, because he, personally, thought he might have a heart attack on the spot. The thunderous howl turned the blood in his veins to ice, and a look over his shoulder at what was charging out of the woods at him made his jaw drop. On one level, his brain was telling him that it was just a game, that their weapons and fists-the-size-of-his-head couldn't honestly hurt him... but a large part of the rest of his brain just wasn't buying this theory. That was the part of him praying for the terrain to miraculously change to concrete and hilly, which of course, it wasn't planning to do.
And he certainly wasn't going to be able to outrun them on a wheelchair on a muddy road.... and even better. He was completely unarmed...
Which pretty much left 'duck, cover and panic', and maybe punch someone in the knee. Good a plan as any...under the circumstance.
"OH SH--!" He threw his arms over his head and ducked down, trying to be as small as possible and hoping that the worst that was going to happen was that he opened his eyes again to the inside of an game room. Could he take away one of their weapons? Yeah sure, maybe right after he rolled over someone's foot. This was going to be the shortest gaming stint in history. Did it count for an 'I told you so' to Hannah? Or would she just make him go back in again?

The orcs came at the rider from all directions. They knew this part of the strategy very well Tig thought. Sorround and the prey can't get away. It was the next part he still couldn't quite understand as he brought the special axe right into the riders neck. First that the special axe wasn't even a proper axe. Any one could tell that from up close. None of the weapons the tribe was currently carrying were proper. First they wouldn't cut or in the case of the clubs, smash, anything. They were just hide made to look like metal, wrapped around cotton and wool and stuck on the end of an axe handle. They wouldn't hurt a whelp, let alone this rider. Neither would the spears or clubs which were made the same way. But they continued to hit the rider with them anyway. For that was part of The Plan
Grek explained The Plan to Tig many times and why they needed to do it this way. But still Tig did not get it. Grek said "we must make it look like we are hurting them without actually hurting them." Tig wasn't stupid, he just didn't see the point to it. If you are gonna look like you are hurting someone why not actually hurt them. Didn't actually hurting someone look the most like hurting someone? Instead of this phoney hurting someone. But the Cheif sided with Grek cause he had civilized learning and had spent much time with man in funny clothings and wierd paper holder.
Then some of the other orcs got an idea to make the game more inteesting. Unseat the rider by tipping him over. Tig liked this idea and joined in on the fun.

Out of the list of things he'd been waiting to happen, getting hit around the head and shoulders with what felt like a weird equivalent to a NERF weapon wasn't even on the bottom of the list. It smarted a bit, but it was suddenly a lot less impressive than he'd thought.
Were they just stupid? Was he going crazy? This was a lot of work on the game to be attacked by a NERF....
"What the hell is w...HEY!" It was about then one of the large, stinky pig-people decided to start trying to tip his chair, which did spur the alarmed Falco into action, balling his fist and swinging it hard at the nearest pig-person. "F---ER!" He had a lighter in his pocket, normally reserved for annoying Hannah by flicking it incessantly, but until they stopped trying to flip him over, he wasn't going to start trying to light anything on fire. Hadn't this dumb game said they'd provide weapons? He didn't remember getting a weapon.
So then what? Climb stinky pig-people? That didn't seem like a great option. EMBARRASS them to death.
"LEAVE THE CHAIR ALONE, STINKY!" He yelled, feeling rather full of bravado considering that, while the weapons were ridiculous, the Pig-people were just...well...huge. And he really didn't want to resort to biting people on the ankle. That would just be the last straw.

Tig squealed in pain from the wizard's punch to his nose. And as Tig cradled his snout in his hands the Wizard's fist caught another Orc, unintentionally on the back swing in the groin. And another Orc fell backwards as if struck by a magic spell and laid on the ground twitching.
Grek had to admit that the last orc was doing a wonderful bit of play acting. But he knew his brother had taken a real blow to that nose he so loved. And if Grek didn't step in quickly he knew Tig would do something actually violent in retribution like figure out he could hit the wizard with the other end of the axe and actually hurt him. And seeing as Grek didn't currently have a contract with this individual it was best to stop his brother or risk getting a "sue" curse cast on the tribe. He never got a clear idea what the "Sue" curse was from The Man but he could tell it was a bad thing from the way The Man described it. So Grek smoothed the lapel on his three piece suit, a mix of various hides sewn together according to The Man's description, and rushed out to stop the fight.

He quickly reached his brother and with his free hand, for the other held the sacred gifts of The Man an Armani leather Briefcase and a gold Rolex Watch, pulled his brother back. In Orcish he shouted for the tribe to cease their attack. This wasn't the customer and they were doing all this for...Free! The mention of the last word got everyones attention including his irate brother. Doing something for free was bad! Or so The Man had told them. And the orcs had taken this to heart. They backed off from the wizard in the chair a milled around waiting for orders from either the Chief or Grek. Grek felt it was best that he approach this powerful wizard that had just appeared here and try to smooth things over with him.

Grek strode forward with that "Winning Smile" The Man had always told him to have when he entered situations like this. True the tusks didn't help the Winning Smile but he thought he had it down well enough.
"Grek Forloin at your service" Grek said in perfect "queen's" english extending the hand of friendship just as he had been taught. "It appears we have a bit of a misunderstanding here. We seem to mistaken you for our client for which I am greatly sorry. May I ask your name oh great wizard?"

For Capjack (This is your into post)

Sara walked into the waiting room of FunTech's office building. The front wating romm was rather non-descript. A few couches, a few plants, a coffee table with the usual magazines, and the usual blonde jail bait receptionist sitting behind a half moon desk filing her nails. Sara growled to herself. She knew dealing with this annoying little bit of fluff was going to be bad enough but if she was going to get inside and manage to steal the secrets for the new game that everyone was playing she had to come here to where it was played. She glanced around the room and saw the security cameras following her everymove. She'd have to play it cool. The receptionist looked up at Sara lazily and asked if Sara had an apointment. After telling the girl behind the desk, whose name palte said her name was Brit, that she didn't but would be willing to wait for an opening Brit told her to take a seat on one of the couches and and come up when her number was called. Sara snatched her ticket and walked over to the couch and dropped down. Knowing she would be unabel to smack the rude little brat around put a downer on her day but then she saw something that might make it better.

A hansome man in Air Force uniform and long coat strode up to the glass doors. From his self assured smile and and Lady killer good looks she new she was gonna be in for a good show. So Sara sat back and watched the stranger come in.

Michael tapped a few final commands into his wrist band, hoping it would eventually give hime some idea, even vaguely, of what was going on, and looked up at the building before him. FunTech. Doesn't look like much from the outside, he thought to himself. Then again, neither do some phone booths. Checking himself in the mirror of the glass front door, Michael pushed his way inside.

The front lobby looked like the usual office buiding front lobby, with furnishings to make visitors comfortable while they await their appointments with whomever. He smiled and nodded to the woman on the couch as his eyes passed over everything in the room, taking in as much detail as he could. The colourful posters on the wall held his attention breifly as he continued to walk across the lobby area, advertizing the latest gaming sensation that FunTech had developed. It looked like it was meeting with some positive reviews, or at least, the ones that were listed were. His roving eyes stopped when they encountered the receptionist, and Mike couldn't help but smile a little more. She looked like she might be a little young to be working in an office building, even as a receptionist, but he dismissed it to regular moisturizing. Moving up to the desk, Mike leaned against it, resting on his elbows, and putting on his best disarming smile.

"Good afternoon..." he glanced at her name tag, "Brit. I was wondering if you could give me some information on FunTech's latest game. I've heard alot about it, and it's gotten me curious. Maybe even show me around a little?"

He had to admit the squeal was damned rewarding, especially when the chaos made the great-grey-green-football-jocks stop trying to overturn his chair, which left him clutching the arm protectively as he was approached by... well...
About the ugliest outfit he'd seen in the group. It looked sort of like someone had taken an really bad explanation of an three piece suit and stitched it together out of roadkill, or at least the addition of the briefcase and watch gave it that impression. Without them he wasn't sure what he would have thought, and until the man...creature...thing started talking in English, he also would have sworn it was reserving the right to personally chew his face off.
He stared at the massive, extended hand for a beat or two, not sure if it would get his arm ripped off, then, hesitantly offered his own hand.
"Uh, ... Falco Marks... everyone calls me Radio." He offered, totally baffled, confused, and still a bit angry. "What the hell was all that about?"
Unable to tell the difference between a mistaken assumption and 'part of the game', he didn't correct the huge man on weather or not he was actually a spell caster. He certainly didn't remember casting anything...but what did he know?

Brit looked up from her filing...of her nails. Her first thought was wondering who was bothering her this time. It had been a quiet morning so far. She had seen that crippled guy who had come in for his appointment. He kinda creeped her out stuck in that chair like that. But the old lady (she must have been at least 30) who had just came in seriously creeped her out. It was like that lady was looking right through her. And hadn't taken her eyes off of her since she sat down. Luckily for her she had been trained and programmed in dealing with people. Making sure that only the right people got in and the wrong people were frustrated, irritated and driven away without what they wanted. Like she was doing to this old lady and now it was this guys tur....

And that was as far as Brit got. Once she made eye contact all the programming and training short circuited and fogged over. All she could see was though eyes and that sparkling smile. All she wanted to do was get to know this man so much better. And what better way then to help him out and spend sometime getting to know him and vica versa. And all he was asking was to be shown around. What harm could that do?

So Brit stood up and gave him her best pose. She hit a button under her desk and a door behind her that wasn't there before slid open. With her sweetest southern accent she said "Well, I'd be happy to show you around. Anything you would like to see first, Mr....?" She looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear the name of the man that made her heart skip a beat.

Fleck stopped his twitching and got up off the ground brushing the mud off himself. He smiled to himself as he walked back to the rest of the group. That had been one of his best and most inspired performances. He had noticed the Target was a wizard and improvised from there. And wasn't that what The Man liked best about him? His years traveling with those Troubadours had helped his performance skills. May was the time he entertained the tribe with his improve performances with a rat and a stick and his dramatic telling of the life of High King Ugh the Flatulent brought tear to the eyes of his audience. He was now curious to see how the customer liked his performance.

The problem he and the rest of the tribe realized from Grek's conversation was that this wasn't the customer. But he could tell that Grek, always looking for a way to make a new customer and a "buck", started working on the wizard. "Well good Wizard, Our fine corporation provides a highly useful service to the community around us. Unfortunately the individual who hired us did so through a go between. All we knew about the customer was that he would be coming through this rarerly traveled part of the road. We were to attack him and be driven back by his skills. When you arrived the way you did we assumed it was you." Grek said and with a practiced flourish pulled, what The Man called, a 'business card' from his briefcase and presented it to Falco. "Our card." The card was a hardened square of animal hide with writing on it.

Fleck couldn't see the card from where he stood and certainly couldn't have read it even if he could see it. But he had been told what it said. And this is what it said.

Skull Mountain Tribe Services LLC
You've tried the rest, now try the Best.
Castles Sieged, Villages Threatened, Damsels Imperiled, Invading hordes impersonated.
*New* Ask about our Child Care Services

Below that was listed the various villages were service requests could be posted.

Grek smiled expectantly, awaiting the response from this wizard.

Giant stinky pig people.... with business cards. He didn't remember this game as being listed as any kind of spoof, yet here he was talking to something that talked like a used car sales man and looked like it could bench press an compact car.
"And the go between didn't give you much of a description...?" He asked, frowning slightly at the card, and for the moment deciding not to question the case of mistaken identity. "Well that's sort of dumb of him isn't it...." He paused again, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the orc that had collapsed twitching. "...Is that guy ok? I don't recall actually hitting more than two people... And I uh.... definitely didn't...cast any spells." Which was mostly because he was pretty sure that if he had been a wizard, they would have handed him a spell book or something, unless they'd stashed it somewhere in a pocket on his chair or something.
Oh god, it was smiling again, god help him. Maybe he should put the card in his jacket, like he'd even remotely think about hiring these giant goons...but maybe if he kept them comparatively happy for five minutes they could point him toward town and or solid, traversable ground. Huge...unwashed....surely they couldn't be that much harder to handle than some of the more...'exciting' fans that showed up to sports events. Right?

Grek scratched his freshly shaved chin. He then snapped his fingers and another orc dropped to all fours so he could open his briefcase on the orc's back. He fished around in the briefcase between the "Artifacts" The Man had entrusted to him and the skins of their current contracts. He nearly bumped The Man's Blackberry out of the briefcase. He wasn't sure why the man called it a Blackberry as it tasted or looked nothing like a blackberry. But it still spoke the word of The Man and sent him The Man's divine will on a regular basis including even when to take lunch. And so he took good care of it. He found the contract and quickly scanned it. Once he had re-familiarized himself with the contract, to the best of his abilities as there was much of the words he still didn't understand but would never admit to the others, he turned back to the wizard.

"Well...yes, it was rather laking in fore thought by our customer" Grek admitted "But some of our customers require more discretion then others" and Grek sighed the exacerbated sigh of one who had been put upon by may a demanding customer.

Grek then turned towards the orc the wizard Falco had pointed at and quickly felt another sigh coming on. "That would be Fleck, Wizard Falco" said Grek and then he leaned in close to Falco in a conspiratorial manner and allowing Falco to smell his rotten breath covered by the smell of something that might have been Binaca "He believes himself to be a talented Thespian. Or at least we let him believe that. He spent two years stalking and raiding a band of actors and because of such thinks himself to be one too. He probably believed he was adding some realism to our fake attack by pretending to react to a spell you might have thrown when you moved your hands." He leaned back and winked at the wizard.

Grek then saw a way to get into the good graces of the wizard, pro bono. "I see that your wheels appear to be well stuck in the mud. If you would just hop out of your vehicle I would be happy to have my people move your vehicle on to more solid ground further up the trail, no charge. Think of it as our way to say 'Sorry' for our little misunderstanding."

Grek smiled. Boy was he the clever one. This wizard could make a good ally if befriended and though The Man warned against doing things for free he also talked about Pro Bono and how it could lead to better relationships and possibly bigger profits.

Michael watched as Brit stood up, as much in appreciation of her as well as how quickly things were moving along. Easy Money, he thought to himself as he glanced up at the open door. The southern accent was nice to hear, too.
"Lister. Michael Lister. Captain Michael Lister. You can go ahead and call me Mike."
Michael moved slowly around behind the desk, maintaining eye contact with the young woman. She seemed totally transfixed, a condition he would try to make the most of.
"I suppose we could start with where this game is being played. Maybe a quick tour of the office areas before we get to the main gaming room? Nothing too detailed, mind you. I'm kind of eager to see the game itself." Nothing too suspect of that request, is there? he thought. Asking to see the control room directly might cause more trouble than he was willing to risk. Best to work that in as we go along.

Urk The smell of Grek's breath made Falco's stomach do a flip that would have done credit to most Olympians, and he swallowed to try and keep the look of nausea off his face as best he could. It was such a paint-peeling, hair-curling, stomach turning smell he almost... almost...missed the suggestion.
"Just...hop out of the chair?" he asked, in a sweetly cheerful tone that would probably be instantly recognized by Hannah and what few others bothered to talk to him anymore, as the sound of his temper boiling over like an bad kitchen experiment. Otherwise he might have lingered more on the lack of any obvious prosthetic makeup on Grek's lumpy, hideous countenance.
"Oh sure, why don't I just do a little tap dance or something too?" He demanded, a few traces of caustic sarcasm beginning to color his tone. "Are you out of your gourd? Why the hell would I be sitting in this thing in the middle of a muddy road if I could just POP up and walk off?!?" He demanded, voice rising, and hands gripping onto the arm rests for emphasis.
Insensitive Jackass. You'd think he'd never heard of a wheelchair before. Or maybe he just thought it was -funny-. God it wasn't funny. Not one damn bit. Not the mud, not the boffer-weapons, not the breath, and DEFINITELY, not the crack at the wheelchair. Surely he couldn't be THAT dumb.

Tig joined Grek and the rest of the Orc's in cowering backwards. Tig might not know much but if he knew one thing it was, an angry wizard was the quickest way to get one's self killed. He looked at the handle of his padded battle axe in an empty hope that it might be strong enough to use as a club against the Wizard Falco. But he knew that was foolish. He knew that he and the other orcs were too far away to get close enough, quick enough before the Wizard made them all hurt. And Grek, the only one close enough, had no weapon to use. Plus underneath all his smooth talk and fancy clothes Grek was a coward and even if he had a weapon Tig doubted he could use it. Tig knew they were all going to hurt and it was all Grek's fault. Hopefully the wizard would at least give Tig the pleasure of watching his brother burn first before Tig had to.

Tig watched as Grek dropped to his knees, trembling with fear, and begged the Wizard for his life. If he knew his brother well enough, in that terrified brain of his, Grek was trying to find a way out of this. "Oh great wizard Falco" Grek pleaded, his voice shaking with fear, "I am sorry I have offended you. I didn't realize you were unable to leave this chair. Please accept my most humble pleas of forgiveness. I did not realize you could not leave your chair. Have you fallen under the curse of another wizard, or is the chair the source of your power? How can we the noble and meager tribe of Skull Mountain Corp LLC be of help to you?"

Tig held his breath waiting for the wizard's response. Grek had either doomed them all or saved them. And Tig wasn't sure which he hoped for more. Cause if Grek had saved them once again he would be insufferable for a week.

Sara just watched in disbelief from her vantage point on the distant couch near the window. The guy was cute, she give him that. She might even consider spending the night with him if she wasn't here on business. See if he liked her whip. But what she was watching just watching turned her stomach and made her growl inside. He had that little Trailer Trash, Jail Bait, Chippie wrapped right around his finger. And it took him hardly any effort at all. she watched as she smiled at him forgetting Sara was even there. And when she heard the little Chippie say "I'd be happy to give you the VIP tour Mike, and show you anything you'd like to see. There is nothing of ay importance out here I have to deal with.", Sara felt the urge to remind the blonde tart she was still here, punctuating the reminder with blondie's face against every hard surface she could find. But then the little voice in Sara's head that was common sense pointed something out to her.

Blondie was leading "Mike" towards a blank wall. She touched a part of the wall and a key board lit up within the wall. She was so taken in trying to charm this newcomer that she was making no attempt to hide the numbers she was punching in. Maybe Mike had a use after all. As a distraction. She watched as they stepped into an elevator on the other side of the door and heard her say as the doors closed "Well Mike why don't I start by showing you one of the game rooms. And after that we can find out what you might like to see next. Who did you say you worked for again?"

After the door closed Sara slowly looked up at the cameras watching her every move. She pulled a small hand held device and pointed it at each camera in turn scrambling them for a few minutes. Just enough time for her to get into that elevator as well. It looked like this day was getting better already. "Thanks Mike, who ever you are, and I wish you good luck with Blondie" Thought Sara. For she knew that the longer Mike kept things hopping the less likely she was to be found till it was too late. And with that she keyed in the number and waited for the elevator

Mike watched as Brit keyed in the access code for the door out of the corner of his eye. It probably wouldn't be the same number for other keypads inside, but it might be worth taking note of. Any place with any level of security would use different codes for different sections. Show me anything I'd like to see, huh? I think you might have just shown me more than you should have already. Anything else depends on what happens next.
He cast a curious glance over his shoulder at the dark haired woman still sitting on the couch by the window, wondering what she was here for. There was something about her that gave Mike a weird feeling. He shrugged it off, glanced at his wrist band, and followed Brit into the now waiting elevator.
Mike waited for the doors to shut before answering. The smaller space would be a perfect place to really turn up the charm factor.
"I work for a fledgling international defense agency. I'm off duty right now, so I figured I'd have a little fun."
Mike hoped that, judging from the girl's initial inattentivness, his choice of words would be enough to throw her off. Not that they were all THAT complex. It would also serve to cover his true purpose for being here. Someone was using technology that shouldn't even exist in this era, and he was going to put a stop to it. He needed to find out what it was, where it was, and who was using it, and this girl was his key.
He decided to try leaning in a little closer.
"A game room would be great. We'll see what happens after that." He said with a wink.

Things were moving along quicker than he hoped.

Brit's temperature was rising quickly in this confined space. She smiled demurely as she half herd what he did for a living. "That's right, Brit" She thought "Don't play too easy to get. Make him think there is a challenge here."
She thought for a minute about surreptitiously hitting the elevator's emergency stop button. Maybe a few minutes alone together might help her get know him better and her know him. When he looked away she took a chance t check him out. Yes, he certainly looked hot in that uniform of his. She wasn't sure where it was from only that she would love to see him out of him. When he turned back he said something about the game room and then winked. She felt like her face was flushing and hoped it wasn't, or at least MIke hadn't noticed.

At about the moment when she was going to make the first move the elevator slowed to a halt and opened it's door's. The elevator opened into a room which could have, in another setting been a hospital waiting room. Behind the desk sat one of her "sisters" busily entering something into her computer. Even with the different outfit and hairdo if anyone saw them together they would have thought them to be twins. Brit knew she had to get mike past this "Brit" quickly or risk her moving in on Brit's territory. She moved quickly to escort Mike past her "sister". She grabbed Mike by the arm and said "Come this way." But she was not quick enough, cause as she had almost reached a side door her sister looked up from her work.

It was obvious from her demeanor that "Sister" was more intent on her job then Brit was. "Where do you think you are going Brit? I don't remember seeing an appointment for today on the schedule? Is he in the system?" she said, her eyes cutting right through Brit. Brit, her mind to much on Mike and the private room she was taking him to, froze unable to utter anything.
"Sister" turned her attention to Mike, "May I ask who you are and if you have an appointment?" she said to MIke her gaze looking for the slightest sign of fowl play or lie. Brit knew if either one of them were to get through this it would take some smooth talking.

Watching Brit squirm a little under pressure was, to be perfectly honest, quite enjoyable. It would have been even more so if he truly planned on following though with what he was thinking. She was a very pretty girl, her smile making her even more so. He couldn't help but think she looked familiar in some way, and had planned on asking her about that, when the elevator slowed, stopped, and the doors opened.

Outside the elevator was a room that was well organized, everything neatly placed. What really drew Mike's attention was what was sitting behind the desk: another "Brit". Twins? he thought. Not entirely impossible. This one seemed quite intent on her work, unlike the one that had escorted him here. As often as not, twins sometimes took on attitudes that were nearly polar opposites. The concept of twin sisters like these made his mind race. Brit #1's tug at his arm brought him back to reality, but Brit #2 had already noticed them, and her demeanor was indeed quite the opposite of Brit #1's.

Michael gently pulled his arms from Brit's grasp, straightened his coat, and walked over to the desk, his own warm expression turning cold as ice. No sense in trying the same trick on this one. Time for a more direct route. "My name is Captain Michael Lister. I work for an international security agency who has taken an interest in the increased energy consumption by this company. The radiation that has been detected in the area is also of some concern. I have been sent here to investigate, and to determine whether or not this company's activities pose any sort of danger or threat."
Okay, so I'm still on duty. everything else should be the same as what I let my escort know, plus a little more.

Britney monitored the numbers as they scrolled across the computer screen. Very little of what they meant did she understand. But she did know that if the numbers reach the red she was to hit the the panic button. But that wasn't her current concern. "Brit" from the front desk was not supposed to be down here with out being replaced by another "Brit" and certainly not with some one with out an appointment. And when he mentioned he was part of an international agency the way he held himself gave her the feeling he wasn't bluffing.
"Brit, return to your post at the front desk, I will deal with Captain Lister" Said Britney with a firm voice. she watched for a moment as Brit hesitated for a moment wanting to say something, almost looking like she had just woken up, then head off towards the elevator doors. Britney, once she was certain that Brit was away in the elevator turned back to to Captain Lister.

But in the time it took her to deal with Brit and then turn to deal with the Captain, she was distracted enough to miss the alert flashing across Captain Mike's watch. One that said that there was a massive spike in chronal energy happening within this building, to be specific some where on the opposite side of the door behind Britney. No all she noticed was this gentleman in front of her. The ear implant she was wearing, hidden by her hair, started to rattle off exactly what she needed to say. "So Captain Lister, do you have some kind of ID? We have some very sensitive and cutting edge gaming technology in this building and we can't let just anybody see it. Although I assure all of our energy consumption is within government dictated limits and I can assure you we have no radiation problems"

As she said this the numbers on the screen, now out of her sight started to fluctuate and start to head into the red. And somewhere behind that door, people in special uniforms and helmets like something out of a sci-fi movie, and whom had more then a passing resemblance to Brit and Britney, scrambled to deal with the results of those numbers.

Good god, was this guy for real? Although he was still in a towering rage at the ridiculous suggestion, though lord knew he would have LOVED to just get out of the chair and walk away from it, he had to admire on some level how dedicated this guy was to his character. Unless maybe he really just enjoyed pissing people off by being deliberately stupid.
He massaged his temple to try and disperse the throbbing of a headache starting to form there, gritting his teeth as he thought of an answer. Skull Mountain Corp? God, this is too bizzare. Are we supposed to take this seriously or as a giant spoof? I thought the guy said it was a -serious- adventure?
"Look just help me get the hell out of the damn mud, ok? Then we can just get the hell out of each others hair and you can go...smack people around with fake weapons or whatever the hell it is you do around here."

Mike took Britney's momentary distraction to glance at his wrist band. Okay, what are you using chronal evergy for? Is that the enery spike we've been detecting?

Briney's request brought him back to the issue at hand: getting some answers. "ID? Uh, Just a sec, I have it somewhere on me..."

Mike made a show of trying to find an ID, all the while trying to figure out which one he should show her. Well, I have three forms, a drivers license, military ID, though I don't know how legitimate she'd take that one, and agency ID. "Too many damn pockets."

Mike pulled out his military ID. At least it had proof of rank if he was going to continue to call himself 'Captain'. "I hope this will do." He showed it to her quickly, just long enough for her to be able to read his name and see the photo before putting it back. "Okay. To be fair, why don't you just show me what it is you do here. A game room, possibly even a monitoring room. Nothing too out of the ordinary. If I'm satisfied that everything looks on the up-and-up, and nothing to be overly worried about, I will report back to my superiors that whatever was detected in this area was the result of something else not associated with you. Does that sound fair?"