Seeing nothing, Hunter and Aswon closed the back door, just in case anyone pursuing decided to spray and pray towards them – sure, they had some armour now – but why court danger? They felt the truck making repeated sharp movements, correcting first one way then the other, lurching from side to side almost at random.
In the cab, Marius was trying to drive at high speed, with a view range measured in metres – his vision and half his sensors cut off by the magical darkness giving him only a split second to react to changes in the road before they reached the truck. The darkness moved with him, keeping him isolated from the outside world, sustained by the enemy mage lurking somewhere out in the dunes.
A moment later, the truck gave another mighty jerk, then another – throwing everyone wildly to the side. Arcs of lightning coruscated down the dashboard and the smell of charred flesh wafted from the cab towards the rear compartment. The two enemies with rocket launchers had finally managed to grab their reloads, forcing the fat projectiles into the launching tubes and sighting on the darkness. They didn't need precision, and just aimed for the centre of the magical effect as it wobbled down the highway.
With a bang, something overloaded, and the truck made a strange clanking noise, then lost all power. It started to drift down the road, the power steering cut out, speed dropping quickly as it plunged straight ahead. Marius reached around the back of his head and managed to snag the jack cable on the third attempt, pulling the smoking connector out of the socket which was too hot to touch, and the smell of burnt pork intensified. His movements were laboured, and one look made it clear that he was fighting to remain conscious from the effects of the electrical surge. The ASSIST module implanted in his hindbrain was a marvellous creation – helping him to literally become one with the vehicle and interpret the sensors and feel of the vehicle as if it was his own body. The downsides were of course that damage to the vehicle manifested as pain, lances of white hot energy applied directly to his brain – and in the case of electrical attacks such as those that had disabled the truck, feeding back potentially lethal energy to him.
The truck halted less than a hundred and fifty metres down the road, and the magical darkness vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the casting mage dispelling the mana that held the spell together. Now the team could see the trucks arrayed behind them at a distance of around a hundred metres, machine guns pointing towards them. The combat bikes had split, and were racing back up the dunes, moving to envelop and encircle the truck.
Once again their radios crackled, a voice calling over the unencrypted channel to come out of the vehicle – or be destroyed. Hunter, Shimazu and Kai jumped out of the back of the truck, weapons held firmly in their hands, but not raised at their attackers – standing defiantly to defend their vehicle and comrades. Tadibya remained in the cab with Marius, and Aswon stood by the back door.
As soon as they stepped out of the vehicle, the three team members seemed to lose focus, and they stared up the road, at the clear skies or at each other blankly. Shimazu turned to climb back into the truck, but for the life of him, couldn't work out how to do it. Aswon felt his mind start to wander a little, but concentrated hard, and focussed on the tactical situation – trying to keep his shit together. He called out to Tadibya, who concentrated for a moment out of the back door, trying to work out what was affecting them.
She peered out of the door into the desert, trying to avoid looking at the huge array of vehicles and weapons aimed at her – she could not see a magical spell being sustained, or a caster – so it was presumably some kind of spirit using its innate powers upon them. Judging by how completely out of it Shimazu, Hunter and Kai were – it was more powerful than her, using its wits to befuddle and confuse them. Her lip twitched in annoyance, and then she composed herself, and returned to the task of helping a badly stunned and wobbly Marius out of the cab and towards the rear of the vehicle.
Aswon called out a cheery greeting that was completely out of place as a door opened in one of the vehicles and a youth emerged, garbed in what looked like native dress. The youth sprinted along the road, zig zagging slightly, something held in his right hand. As he closed, the arm came back overhead, ready to throw the grenade towards the open door of the truck. Tadibya looked out of the back with a grimace, raised her arm and crooked a finger at the youth, concentrating on him for a moment and then raised her hand. His feet slowly lifted from the ground, his forward momentum stopping immediately as the magical force enveloped him.
With a yelp, he dropped the grenade, a great cloud of greenish gas exploding outwards, enveloping him. His body spasmed as he inhaled the gas, then went limp. Tadibya moved his body to the side of the road, and laid it down gently, then returned to helping Marius out of the truck.
The team stood out on the road, and for a moment there was silence – nobody moved on either side. Responding to some unheard command several bikers kicked into gear, driving down the slope again towards the team while gunners in the trucks continued to watch the team and provide cover. They drove to the side of the truck and leapt from their bikes, keeping clear of the lines of fire from the trucks, then got ready to pounce.
Moving swiftly, they grabbed the team members still dazed and confused, pulling out plastic restraints and cuffing them quickly and firmly, then moving on to Aswon and Tadibya. Outnumbered more than fifty to one, and knowing there was an enemy mage out there at least as powerful as Tadibya, they didn't resist. They didn't take their weapons, or rummage through their kit – but the plasticuffs were cinched tight around wrists and made escape unlikely. As soon as they were all secured, whatever effect that had confused Hunter, Kai and Shimazu vanished – presumably at the direction of the enemy mage. Two of the trucks were driven over and the restrained team members were loaded into the flatbeds at the back, along with several guards.
After a few minutes, the trucks started up and drove away from the road. Aswon and Tadibya stared up into the night sky, marking the stars and working out their direction of travel. The others saw a fleeting glimpse of their truck being worked on, being made ready for towing by the looks of things, as they crested the ridge of the sand dune, and then vanished down the other side.
They drove for perhaps twenty kilometres, and when they stopped and were sat upright by the guards could see a number of large tents – a variation of a yurt from the initial glance – arrayed around a central area. More bikes were in evidence, along with a couple of heavier trucks, and some trailers scattered around. Women worked at various tasks, assisted by younger children, most of whom stopped and wandered over to see the arrivals. All told, the camp probably held somewhere between one hundred and fifty, and two hundred souls, split out over what appeared to be four family-oriented groups.
The team were removed from the back of the trucks and walked to the central area, where a number of iron stakes were planted. In short order they were manacled to the iron stakes, then had their plastic restraints removed. Shimazu tested the stake, finding it firmly embedded into the scrubby soil, and didn't rate his chances of pulling it out or wiggling free. Hunter tried a different approach – pulling on the manacles and using his height and strength to try and lever them apart. He thought he saw one of the links bending, ever so slightly – so he stopped, thinking through escape options and planning for the future.
For the next hour, people around the camp busied themselves with tasks – just going about their lives, doing maintenance on vehicles, washing clothes, a hundred other mundane tasks for a semi-nomadic group… but through it all, a few guards stayed nearby, weapons held ready and watching over them. The team were mostly ignored, though sometimes a small child would come and stare at them intently for a few minutes, before heading back to their parents.
They called out after a while, asking if they could be let down to go to the toilet… a guard motioned that he would pull down their trousers so they could relieve themselves there if required – and offer for which they indicated no to. However, the guard did then bring out a small hip flask, offering it up to the team, giving them a drink of the home brewed rocket fuel that passed for alcohol around here.
At one point a youth approached and tried to remove the slung rifle from Aswon's shoulder, only to be chided by the guard and cuffed on the back of the head. The guard approached and reseated the weapon, making sure Aswon was still armed, and then babbling at the youth, berating him. Aswon listened carefully, picking out the odd word as he did so.
"I think he's saying we have to keep our weapons, as a prey with no claws is not worth hunting. At least that's the general gist of it."
The sound of revving and labouring engines made them twist in position, staring back to the east, the way they had come. Louder and louder the sounds came, until three of the trucks crested the ridge, engines working hard. A few moments later the team's Russian truck was dragged over the crest of the sand dune, sliding across the ground on a couple of massive metal skids, tow chains taut to the three pickup trucks. It appeared that these were the last of the tribe to return, and in the growing darkness, people seemed to be ending their tasks and getting ready for something, disappearing into their tents in groups.
Marius fired up his internal comm-link, patching it to various frequencies that he knew were in use by Saeder-Krupp. Activating his sub-vocal microphone, he started to give fake position reports and sightings, as if the base were being surrounded by a strike team – hoping that someone was monitoring the radio and would be able to intercept his transmissions and feel that they were threatened. If they sent out their attack force to prepare against a possible attack, their escape would become much easier. Nothing happened though, and after a few minutes of the deception it became clear that they were either not monitoring the radio, or had investigated and found it to be a false alarm.
Watching the camp, it became clear that there were familial similarities between many of the people, slight colour variations in the home spun fabrics, slight changes in the dress or style – but they all mingled together freely enough. After a while, people started to gather around the central clearing, including several with sets of animal hide drums.
As people started to gather, more often the guards came and offered them drinks of the potent alcohol, smiling and nodding as they did so. Apart from the fact that they were still restrained and obviously prisoners, they seemed almost solicitous with regards to the six team members.
More time passed, the team members standing in position, arms stretched out to the side with the iron manacles keeping their arms away from their bodies, shifting weight from foot to foot to relieve the aches and strain of their position. The people gathered in the circle nattered away, also passing around alcohol and small strips of jerky, passing the time of day and talking in their native tongue. Aswon strained to listen, gradually becoming aware of key phrases and words and starting to get a better feel for the language.
Around ten o'clock, a few men bought in some more iron stakes, bashing them into the ground on each side of a large fire pit, and then bringing in massive spits with a variety of game animals impaled upon them. Soon the meat was starting to sizzle, and was regularly basted with more of the home brewed spirits. All of the crowd were drinking now except for the very youngest of the children and the guards – some of whom looked less than thrilled by this.
By eleven, the children were chased off to bed, and the drumming started – gently at first but building up tempo. People swayed to the beat, and some sang, hands slapped thighs along with the drumming, and their captors got down to some serious partying. Hunter started to flex a little now, repeatedly trying to bring his arms down to his side, testing the links over and over again His orcish physique gave him leverage, weight and strength that slowly seemed to loosen the cross brace of his restraints, the tiny amount of play growing larger as he continued to flex. He didn't know if he'd get anywhere – but it wasn't like he had anything better to do...
A youngish man appeared and sat down directly opposite them, in what appeared to be a position of honour on an ornate chair covered in pelts of some kind. To his right were two more chairs, larger and even more ornate, that both lay empty. Aswon switched his attention to him, as did Tadibya. Coming from a tribal society himself, Aswon quickly picked up that he was a young man apprenticed in some way – either to the chief or to the shaman, from the deference shown to him and the ritualistic way he carried out certain tasks. Tadibya risked assensing him, and discovered that he was definitely shamanic, though she couldn't get a good sense of his totem. Looking at the skins he was wearing, it definitely appeared to be a large carnivore though – wolf, bear, hyena, jackal – maybe even tiger. Whatever it was, this was a totem that believed in strength and ferocity though…
Just before midnight, the tribal chieftain appeared, accompanied by the presumed shaman. They sat down in the prime positions, as regal as any head of state, and were quickly served with drinks and food. The drumming intensified and took on a more urgent cadence, building up tempo. The chieftain spoke to the shaman in a low voice, too faint for any of the team to hear, but the shaman was obviously in agreement, nodding along to his words. The shaman in turn spoke to the apprentice who produced a large bag of herbs. A cauldron was brought forth, and soon hot water and herbs were being mashed together, releasing a pungent steam.
Aswon and Tadibya sniffed and went wide eyed, recognising the distinctive aroma of Deepweed mixed with some other substance. Neither of them had ever experienced the effects, as it was extremely rare – but the smell was distinctive and easy to describe. Deepweed originated in the Caribbean, so they had no idea how some had ended up here, but it was known to make anyone with talent see the astral realm – whether they wanted to or not. Neither of them knew what the other compound was, but they could feel their astral senses tingle as the smoke enveloped them, doing 'something' to them. Both compounds were clearly capable of causing magical effects and would be highly sought after, rare and expensive – which made this a special occasion of some kind. They glanced at their team members, warning them that they were going to be seeing some strange things soon. Hunter was also sniffing the air, with a blank look on his face at first, then a deep frown. He wrinkled his nose a little, then took in a deep breath. The cybernetic receptors in his nasal cavity took a sample of the air and fed it into the highly miniaturised chamber, before sending a tiny jolt of power through the sample, splitting the chemical sample down into its constituent parts, before feeding the data back to his built-in computer, further back in his skull. Opening his eyes a moment later he warned them that there was also a considerable amount of opium in there, along with some other trace psychoactive chemicals. The night was going to get interesting, one way or another.
As the concoction was mixed, the shaman muttered words over it, waving his hands in the air and calling out loudly in his dialect – Aswon continued to listen, trying to get a sense of what was going on. With a flourish, the shaman dropped his arms to his side and raised his head, giving a mighty shout – and the drums stopped. In the silence, the crowd watched him as he lowered a ladle into the mix and drank a draught of the concoction. Smacking his lips together in obvious approval, the two men who had done the mixing, proceeded to carry it around the circle – starting with the chief, then the shaman's apprentice, then working down the rows in a presumed order of seniority.
Surprisingly enough, the draught was bought to the prisoners, who were all encouraged to take a deep drink. One by one the ladle was raised to their lips and warm mixture poured into the mouths. Aswon drank willingly, the others with a certain reluctance. As the cauldron bearers returned to their positions, Shimazu subtly let the mixture drip out of the corner of his mouth, expelling it without swallowing more than a trickle.
With another shout, a pair of women dragged a large bush forward to the shamans, who then heaved it onto the fire, under the roasting meat. Almost immediately thick white smoke billowed from the dry leaves, carrying a heady smell across the camp. Hunter sniffed again and then went wide eyed – calling out to the rest that the bush was loaded with poppy seeds and they could expect to get really high soon. With a tilt of his head, something weird happened, and suddenly his nose pinched tightly shut, as if he had put on a nose clip. His mouth shut, but he appeared to have no problem breathing – it just didn't seem to bother him at all. Internally the regulator built into the tank let out a measured amount of compressed air, and a gauge appeared on his cybernetic vision, displaying a timer, counting down from sixty minutes as it compared the volume of air remaining versus his current consumption rate.
The drumming resumed, building up slowly with a complex interleaving of beats from the half dozen drummers, mixing notes from drums barely the size of a fist to deeper booming noises from large drums set out on the floor before the player.
As the minutes passed, the team started to look at each other, aware that they were starting to feel a little….odd. Apparently they were not alone, as many of the crowd started to dance and sway more and more as time progressed, becoming freer and wilder. People whooped and clapped, moving around in a free-form dance, their bodies gyrating and spinning in time with the beat.
A tingle of excitement surged through the team, a sudden rush of feelings. It started with tremors in the calves and thighs, like the ache after a long run or exercise session. Soon their bodies were quivering all over, their muscles twitching and pulsing with a thousand little tremors. Hearts started to race, their pulse climbing as the drugs took effect, and they started to move from side to side a little, looking uncomfortable as if they suddenly had to pee. Tongues started to repeatedly swipe from side to side to try and moisten dry lips, and occasionally they would nibble on their lower lip, tasting something metallic. Noses wrinkled as they seemed to be able to smell hot sugar. Occasionally one of them would flinch as sand was blown against suddenly sensitive skin as ten thousand nerve endings went into overdrive. Scalps tingled as if their hair was alive, and their vision seemed to tunnel in, becoming sharp and focussed in the centre, but displaying random flashes of bright lightning to their periphery. One of the guards noticed, and bought around more alcohol, and they drank greedily, desperate for anything to wet their dry mouths and throats.
First one, then more of the crowd got to their feet, dancing now with no decorum or sense of self. Hips gyrated and thrust, arms swung wide around them, clothes were flung open as their bodies heated up from the exertion. Chickens and rabbits were bought out, and the shamans apprentice slit their throats on crashing drum beats, spraying arterial blood over sections of the crowd, sending them crazy. The smell of burning blood filled the air as the semi drained bodies were thrown onto the fire. Through the haze and the drugs, the team tried to stay focussed on what was going on, but it grew harder and harder. Hunter was breathing shallowly from the internal air tank nestled inside his body, avoiding the worst of the opium rush but still high as a kite from the drugs in the cauldron. Shimazu had almost no effect from the broth, but was floating in pink clouds from the wafts of opium smoke that he had no choice but to breathe. Kai, Aswon, Marius and Tadibya were all completely smashed, off their faces from the multiple conflicting chemical signals racing around their bodies, fully subsumed by the cocktail of magical compounds and the waves of more mundane drugs messing with their brains.
In the flickering firelight, they could see the shaman and his apprentice, their totemic masks in place now. Snarling wolves looked back at them, and as they glanced around, more and more of the tribe grew fangs, their noses elongating into snouts, their skin covered in short fur and their ears elongating to points. The atmosphere of dancing and merriment grew darker and more menacing, the drumbeat matching their fast-beating hearts and they felt like they were being examined by two hundred predatory eyes. None of the team could tell if this was happening for real or if it was an illusion created by the drugs, but there was a sense of danger and fear in the air that made them think the former.
The shaman lurched forwards on all fours, prowling around the clearing towards the team. Teeth barred he stalked towards them, dancing away on occasion to approach from another angle. His apprentice followed his lead, circling the fire the other way to approach their flank. Aswon barred his teeth in response, opening his mouth wide and fully revealing the two inch-long lion incisors implanted into his mouth – before slowly lowering his head and looking up through his fringe at them with wary eyes. He tried to posture with his body, saying "I am no threat, but I am no prey either".
Next to him Tadibya stood as still as her body would allow her, erect and upright, with her totemic mask in full view, more clearly defined than any of the team had ever seen before, in fact. An ethereal elk enveloped her physical form, three hundred kilos of well-muscled animal standing nearly two meters high with a large head and dark liquid eyes staring at the approaching predators. Her head was smooth, with no sign of antlers.
The two wolves stalked closer towards the team, darting in and out now, as if to snap and bite at them. Tadibya called on her totem, opening her heart to the forces of nature that she worshipped and drawing forth power to protect herself and her companions. Ghostly shapes formed around them all, visible to all but Shimazu thanks to the cocktail of drugs they'd imbibed – even Hunter and Marius now could see the ghostly traces of the astral auras.
Marius and Hunter appeared as newborns, weak and defenceless astrally. Kai and Aswon took the form of young elk, perhaps in their first season, with small nubs of antlers protruding from their heads. Shimazu appeared as a full grown elk with a large rack of antlers, spreading a meter wide with strips of velvet hanging from the ends of the horns.
The two wolves snarled and howled, backing off as their prey showed defiance and turned to face them, clustering together for safety. They retreated to the fire and started to sway from side to side. The drummers picked up on their movements, intensifying the beat and raising the volume until the booms echoed off the vehicles and sand dunes. Behind the two shaman and their astral companions, a large ripple of power appeared, a twisting maelstrom of energy made visible by the strength of emotion and the magical drugs. The crowd of dancers shrieked and screamed as it appeared, adding their mental energy to its strength, solidifying its presence in the physical world. The two shaman stalked forward again, but this time accompanied by the wolf aspect of each of the members of the crowd. The pack of wolves slowly spread out to encompass the captives, scores of creatures with bared fangs, hunting together as a pack. Again, the mood grew darker. Now there was no festival. No dancing. No joy. Now the pack needed to feed.
Magical energy filled the air, the emotions of the crowd and the team filling the surrounding area with magical potential. A vortex of fear, hunger, desire and defiance whipped around them. A cyclone of power circled the fire, encompassing them all, the normally docile eddies and currents of mana a raging storm.
Tadibya felt a breath of hot air on her shoulder, then another. As she stared at the fire, she saw individual embers leaping off the burning logs, arcing away from the fire slowly, oh so slowly. Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Everything around her was paused, everything still. Even her own heart seemed to pause for a moment.
In the heart of the fire she saw something, something that called to her. It spoke of a primal force, one that could not be countenanced. It offered her a choice, which really, was no choice at all.
A spark of hope entered her, the flames of defiance fanned into full force by the sudden feeling of belonging, as she surrendered herself fully to the totem, committing every fibre of her being to the force that had seen her undertake a pilgrimage of thousands of kilometres, from the frozen wastes of northern Russia to the mountains of Azerbaijan, for a reason she didn't understand. All of that coalesced here and now as the totem fully revealed itself to her, and she willingly gave her entire being to it.
Time flowed again, the moment gone. The wolves took one more step forwards and then howled, howled loud and long – but not the howl of a predator. The howl of a creature denied. Behind the team appeared a new figure. Glowing blue, the majestic elk stepped forwards through their bodies. The astral shapes of the bucks and doe that had formed around the team flowed into it, binding them together and strengthening them.
The elk that stood before them was no elk that walked the earth in this age – at least no elk that history had ever seen. It stood five meters tall at the shoulder, and its bulk moved gracefully but firmly, the powerful muscles rippling through its thousand kilo frame. The rack of antlers spread wide, easily matching the height of the beast, sharp vicious spikes pointing out in all directions like a forest of spears. A large hoof scraped at the ground, and then stamped, once. The boom rang out like a shot, silencing the drums and forcing the wolves back a pace.
Hunter chose this time to flex, pouring all of his strength into bringing his arms down, the link finally splitting and shattering and the pin on the crossbeam giving way, sending the piece of iron spinning madly around the centre. The manacle remained fixed around his wrist with a short but dangerous length of chain held in his large hand. The others inspired by his efforts strained as well, pouring all of their drug-fuelled might into one heroic burst of energy.
Shimazu and Aswon followed suit, broken links flying across the clearing. Whether they were aided by the totem or just thoroughly pissed off at being kept captive and threatened with death was unclear – but from the watching crowd's perspective their prey suddenly looked dangerous and fell, and not like a suitable sacrifice at all. Shimazu drew his hand cannon, and Hunter swung up a rifle. Though still horrendously outnumbered, their defiant stance indicated that they wouldn't go down without a fight.
Kai and Marius stood in their manacles, lacking the strength to break their bonds, but both looked ready to kick, bite or spit at anyone that came close to them, and Tads stood with her arms outstretched, crackles of power arcing between her fingertips. She didn't even know any offensive combat magic – never having been interested in throwing fireballs or lightning bolts. But she felt like that didn't really matter much at the moment, and she'd be able to improvise something.
The two wolf shaman looked to each other, and then slunk away, driven back in the face of the totemic primarch that stared them down. The high shaman moved next to the chieftain and then stood, reverting to a two-legged stance. His hands raised above his head, he called out to the clan. Aswon picked up some of the words, translating as best he could as the shaman told them that these were no prey, that wolf would have to find another sacrifice.
Guards moved over to the team, removing those bonds that still remained, and helping them down to a comfortable position. The crowd gathered around them – not hostile, but unsure of quite where everyone stood. The shaman whispered into the chief's ear, pointing and waving at the team as he did so. The chief made a pronouncement, his language fast and flowing, foxing Aswon's ability to translate.
The crowd rushed towards the team, and in an instant Shimazu and Hunter pulled up weapons they had allowed to drop. Tadibya, Kai and Aswon had a better read on their body language and welcomed the sudden embrace of people as they rushed to hug the new "honorary" clan members, and Marius seemed too stunned to do much of anything.
They were plied with drinks again, and given seats. Aswon and Tadibya approached the fire, and stared at the chief and shaman. Carefully, Aswon pulled out his knife and sliced off a thick slice of cooked meat from the spit. Just as he was about to raise it to his mouth, a subtle dig in the ribs from Tadibya stopped him and he glanced at her. Her eyes flicked to the chief and then back to the meat. Nodding in understanding, the black-skinned tribesman moved around the fire and offered the chief the piece of meat.
The heavy-set man pulled out his own knife, and split off a hunk of the meat with it, then returned the remains to Aswon. With a raised knife, they saluted each other, then bit into the succulent meat, dripping with juices – sealing whatever deal had been hatched.
The drumming started again, but now the team were part of the crowd, not prisoners. Alcohol flowed, dancing resumed and the mood lightened as the clan continued to party late into the night…
