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Now You're Moving With Wormholes [IC]


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"Certainly is chilly out. Much colder than the nights in Freedom City," she said offhandedly as the last item appeared on the pile and she retook his hand. "Must be somewhere with pushka. Something primeval about this forest."

Examining the rather fried screwdriver, she nodded and asked, "If that is destroyed, what about your belt? Is it functional?"

The answer to that question arrived quickly. The heavy rustling sound drew her attention as well, and she whirled around in a boxer's stance. The distinctive glow of his force field assured his belt's operation. For now though what exactly was out there? She silently watched the trees and waited.

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As Fulcrum set her stance, the crashing noises got even louder, and from the bushes erupted two figures, who stopped stock-still in front of the heroes. One was a man dressed all in furs, holding a well-made and well-used spear in his hands. Behind him, they could see a slim figure also wrapped in furs, a woman holding a small bundle in her arms. She took great care with the bundle as she quickly moved behind the man, who brought up the weapon and kept itself and himself between his party and the new arrivals. He murmured something under his breath, something the Doktor's keen ears discerned as...Germanic?

"Halten Sie das Kind hinter uns, und machen Sie sich bereit zu laufen ..."

The murmuring stopped, and he pointed the end of the weapon at the two, keeping a fair distance.

"Wer bist du, was du in den Wald von Tränen?"

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"Ooookay," he said aside to Fulcrum, "unless these are survivalists from a RenFaire, it would seem we did go back in time."

The accent... Swabian? Is this my homeland? But why? Did the accident cause it to access one of the earliest stored teleport coordinates?

Archeville turned to the man, holding his hands up, palms outward. "Wir bedeuten Sie kein Schaden, mein gute Herr. Wir sind von einem entfernten Land, und wurden hier durch eine merkwürdige Kraft geholt."

We mean you no harm, my good man. We are from a distant land, and were brought here by a strange force.

"Ich bin Doktor Archeville, und sie," he gestured towards Mona, "heisst Fulcrum."

I am Doktor Archeville, and she... is called Fulcrum.

"Sie sagen, dass dieses der Wald von Tränen, ja? Wir sind mit diesem Platz nicht vertraut. Gibt es irgendwelche Städte in der Nähe?

You say this is the Forest of Tears, yes? We are unfamiliar with this place. Are there any cities nearby?

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The name Archeville definitley brought on a reaction, as well as his easy command of the language they spoke, and the faces of the warrior and his wife going slack for a split second as they stared with stunned gazes at the doctor. The woman stepped up to the man's shoulder, a flurry of murmuring erupting between the two.

"Archeville? Aber ... das ist unmöglich .."

"Archeville? But...that's impossible..."

"Ein entgangen ist? Kehrte nach all den Jahren?"

"An escaped one? Returned after all these years?"

"Es könnte ein Mummenschanz, aber unsere Möglichkeiten sind begrenzt. Wenn er, was er sagt er ist, konnte er eine große Hilfe für uns sein ..."

It could be a mummery, but our options are limited. If he is what he says he is, he could be a great help to us...

The warrior put up his spear, still looking somewhat wary as he eyed the Doktor and Fulcrum. Placing a hand on his hip, he spoke again, this time in a more confident tone.

"Städte? Neben dem Wald von Tränen? Sie müssen von anderswo, nicht zu wissen. Niemand baut im Schatten des Waldes, wenn sie es vermeiden kann. Doch ... Sie sagen, Sie sind aus einem fernen Land, aber alle wissen, dass für die Freien Städte retten, alle auf der Erde unter die Zuständigkeit der Warlord ist. Sie sind ein freier Mann dann?"

Cities? Near the Forest of Tears? You must be from elsewhere, not to know. Nobody builds within the shadow of the forest if they can help it.

Yet...you say you are from a distant land, yet all know that save for the Free Cities, all of Earth is under the purview of The Warlord. Are you a Free Man, then?

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So even here, the name Archeville is known... but not, it seems, as one they recoil from.

"Wir sind frei, ja. Tatsächlich, kommen wir von einem Platz heisst Freedom."

We are free, yes. In fact, we come from a place called Freedom.

He referred to him as 'Warlord,' not Kriegsherr, so 'Warlord' is his name, not merely a title.

He turned to Mona, "these people need our help, liebchen. Seems there is a Warlord out there -- his name, not a mere title -- and it would appear his fist grasps much of the world. They also seem to recognize my name, and the woman is surprised I escaped." She knew, by the set of his jaw and the steely glint in his eyes, that he was already planning half a dozen ways to help these total strangers on this unknown world. "Oh, I also do not think we are in the past, we may be in an alternate world... or maybe the distant future."

He turned back to the couple, "Fulcrum und ich werde dem Stoppen von Unterdrückung und von Tyrannei eingeweiht, eingeweiht dem Verbessern der Leben der Volk. Wenn wir helfen können, werden wir."

Fulcrum and I are both dedicated to stopping oppression and tyranny, dedicated to improving the lives of the people. If we can help, we will.

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Fulcrum attempted to translate the language, but her command of German still lacked depth. Combined with the unusual accent, only a little made sense and left her squinting dumbly at them. After a few words, she sighed, crossed her arms and looked around the forest. Let Viktor handle the diplomacy. The two certainly didn't seem like a threat, barring a magical spear or spell. Which made her smile a bit, considering Viktor's dislike of all things magical.

Comprehensible language drew her attention and she turned back to Viktor and the three travelers. A simple nod followed, "Alright, where do we start? Are we Quantum Leaping out of here after defeating this Warlord or what?" Noting that particular look to him, an eyebrow went up, "Don't go off half cocked, sweetie. I'm all for kicking some tyrannical butt but lets see what we're up against first."

She smiled to the travelers before asking Viktor, "So what's their story?"

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The man looked almost hopeful as the Doktor spoke of Freedom and fighting against oppression, his wife's eyes shining as she stepped out from behind him. It seemed as if hope had sprung within the two, and it was a warm sight on the cold night.

"Wahrlich, wir haben gesegnet..."

"Truly, we have been blessed..."

"Wir gehen an einen geheimen Ort im Wald, der Weg ist lang und gefährlich, aber wir glauben, dass es Menschen gibt, die uns helfen kann. Ich bin Reinhard, und dies ist Elisa, meine Frau, und Gustav, mein Sohn."

"We go to a secret place in the Forest, the road is long and dangerous, but we believe there are people there who can help us. I am Reinhard, and this is Elisa, my wife, and Gustav, my son."

A howl from the forest caused the man to spin, clutching his spear tightly as his eyes went round. The woman's face blanched, and she clutched the tiny bundle to her chest unconsciously as more crashes sounded off in the distance.

"Oh, Hilfe Götter uns ... Jäger! Wir müssen fliehen, schnell!"

"Oh, gods help us...Hunters! We must flee, swiftly!"

The two immediately made for the tree line, Reinhard stopping to motion for the two heroes to follow as the howls grew closer...

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"I doubt it will be that easy a return," he replied with a shrug to Fulcrum, "but my work on getting us home will go much smoother if there is a free marketplace and an absence of death-squads."

I do hope there is some technology here I can use, but I get the unsettling feeling I am not going to find anything as advanced as vacuum tubes. Which means... I can help pull them up several 'tech levels'! Well, once I learn who is who and what is what here.

"Reinhard," he nodded towards the trio of natives, "and his wife, Elisa, and their son, Gustav, are going to lead us to a small group of allies; there are apparently no villages near this Forest. Now," he gestured towards the piles of her stuff, "I have an idea on how we can move your-"

He was cut off by the piercing howl; he spun around and re-scanned the clearing they were in. "Hunters," he translated, "but we need intel. And I am the stealthier one... even if my cloaking field does not work," he tapped his belt. "Of course, it should still work, so-"

He stopped himself, shook his head, called tot he others. "Ich hole auf! Vertrauen innen Fulcrum!"

I will catch up! Trust in Fulcrum!

He darted up to give Fulcrum a peck on the cheek, then continued up, fading from view as he went.

She should know enough German to understand any warnings they shout at her, follow basic directions through the forest. Still, I should see if I can jury-rig her a translator.

Focus now, though: unknown 'Hunters' coming. Eyes peeled, watch for body language, all the subtle clues that can announce a host of information.

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Within a few moments of the Doktor going skyward, and Fulcrum and company disappearing into the forest, the crashing in the brush grew louder. Within a minute of his hanging in the air, five extremely frightening figures burst into the clearing, screeching to a halt. Black armor, with grim-visaged helmets and carrying various wicked weapons, astride what could only be described as massive wolves, black furred and with yellowed fangs. The armored hunters did not speak, merely turning their helmets this way and that as they scattered about the clearing. The wolven mounts bent down, sniffing the ground and inspecting the whole clearing...

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Fulcrum smiled in humor at Viktor's enthusiasm. Giving him a peck back, she looked him in the eye, "Just intel. Remember to find us when you're finished. I know you of all people will have no trouble."

As he disappeared from view, she whispered, "Be careful."

Then she turned and smiled down to the group, speaking slowly, "Reinhard, Elisa, Gustav? Freut mich, Sie kennenzulernen." She valiantly hoped that was the proper greeting. Ticking them off right now she did not need.

One long, last look up to where Viktor disappeared, and another at her things, she hovered along behind the family and vanished into the dark of the forest.

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The five armored figures slowly rode around the clearing, their mounts sniffing everywhere. Once or twice, a nose would turn the invisible Doktor's way, but no more than an odd sniff or a snort before they returned to their duties. The riders did not speak or even move beyond the barest of economical motions, a turn of a helmeted head here to indicate a direction, a twitch of a gauntleted hand to direct the wolf. As a matter of fact, the omnidisciplinary scientist could swear they seemed almost...mechanical in precision.

It took a few moments, but then it seemed one of the wolves picked up a scent. The rest immediately fell in line, and howled in unison, looking as if ready to charge back into the brush. Fulcrum and the two refugees had only left a scant few minutes before...

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Large wolves, atavistic yet tamed enough to serve as mounts. Armored figures exhibiting precise movements -- constructs? Slaved cyborgs? Still do not know this area's technological level.

Need to give Mona and Reinhard more time to get out. Which means I must distract these hunters.

Archeville flew down and to the left of the group, landing in the snow about 30 feet from them. He dropped most of his cloak, leaving himself invisible, but no longer inaudible, or un-smell-able. And he let out a sharp whistle.

"Ich würde nicht so gehen, wenn ich Sie war!"

"I would not go that way, if I were you!"

Regardless of construction or what is within the armor, the assorted joints would be the weakest spots. Snow in the faceplate/visor to hinder sight; slight twisting of helm could also block vision. Large wolves should be susceptible to standard pressure points.
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The reaction time of the armored colossi stunned even the Dok, five metal boots hitting the ground simultaneously and forming into a line within seconds. No sound came from the fearsome black visages as they began marching in precise cadence towards the direction of the voice, razor-sharp greatswords at the ready. Fulcrum's luggage seemed unimportant to them, the figures merely marching over, past, or through them (though, thankfully, none seemed damaged). Strangely, one hunter turned it's helmet, and on a wordless command the wolves instantly spread out, taking position at five points around the clearing equidistant between each other.

The directing one's helmet eye holes seemed to fix upon where Archeville was standing for a split second as it turned back, and a chill ran up the man's spine. Something truly malevolent was behind that black steel, even if he couldn't see it.

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... hunh.

"Gut, nun da ich Ihre Aufmerksamkeit habe, lassen Sie mich sehen, wenn Sie irgendeine Art der Sprachbefehlsübersteuerung haben. Sicherheitsprotokoll… 10? 666? 21! 4… 5… 678… ach... oh, weissichnicht, 42? 1!"

"Well, now that I have your attention, let me see if you have some sort of voice command override. Security protocol... 10? 666? 21! 4... 5... 678... ah... oh, I dunno, 42? 1!"

Well, it was worth a shot!

"Recht, kein Effekt. Und, als der ist der Fall…" Archeville flew straight up, about 50 feet. "Lassen Sie uns sehen, wie gut Sie mit einem Flieger tun!"

"Right, no effect. And, as that is the case... let us see how well you can do with a flier!"

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Surprisingly, stunningly, miraculously, it seemed as if the Doktor's words actually had an effect! Albeit a delayed one, the man having reached a good thirty feet into the air before it seemed to act. When he started blurting out the numbers, along with the German instructions, the hunters stopped cold in their tracks. Helmets leaned forward, weapons lowered to the ground, and as one all five of the armored figures stopped moving. They simply stood, without even a twitch of shoulders, eerie in the moonlit darkness.

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Archeville paused in mid-air, scanning the golems for signs of trickery, but finding none.

Neat!

He reached into one of his labcoat pockets and retrieved his Interceptor's comm. He whispered clipped instructions, "Fulcrum, suggest picking up our guides and carrying them to their destination, fast. Will follow shortly."

Okay, now for the gamble. And to see if they can talk.

The Doktor fully decloaked, but remained some 30 feet in the air above the circle of armored figures. Puffing up with all the authoritative air he could, he pointed to the one that seemed to direct them, "Bericht über den derzeitigen Stand, jetzt."

"Status report, now." (literally, 'report on the present conditions')

Also, move action to switch to his Enhanced Charisma.

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For a moment, the five simply stood there, like five hideous statues in the centre of the dark clearing. Then the Doktor pulled down his cloaking. And all hell broke loose.

The constructs' response to his appearance was swift and brutal. The good Doktor didn't even have time to breathe, let alone react, as the five's arms immediately swept to their belts, lifting up vicious-looking throwing-axes and whipping them upwards in his direction!

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Oh, I do not like this pla-

So began the thought through Archeville's mind as a quintet of throwing axes flew at him. He managed to avoid one, but three hit, though his force field blunted much of the impact so it was instead like being hit with a baseball bat (which was still unpleasant!). But one hit with just enough force and at just the right angle against the plane of his force field that it caused a temporary overload; the field dropped just enough for the axe to get through and cut his pretty, pretty face!

Fulcrum did hear a slight cry over her Interceptors' comm.

Shock (from both the pain and the whole situation) touched off something in him. His skin and hair began to shift in color, and clenching fists revealed the buddings of wicked talons. His pained grimace contorted into a more piscine look of rage... but then, just as suddenly, they all snapped back, and Archeville was back in his right mind (and body) before you could say "how many fingers am I holding up?".

Okay, you are either smarter than I gave you credit for, or -- far more likely -- you all are being controlled by some remote intelligence, like Havok did. Let us see how curious you are, and how easily you can be confounded.

Re-checking his Belt's operation to make sure all was functional (and switching to his full force field), he looked down at the armored hunters. "Klug!," he cheered, "Jetzt, lassen Sie uns sehen dass wie gut diese Jäger von Ihren aufspüren können!" He then bolted, perpendicular to the way Fulcrum and the others had gone.

"Clever!" "Now, let us see how well these hunters of yours can track!"

"perpendicular to" = if Fulcrum & Co. are headed South, he's going either East or West; if they went West, he's going North or South; etc.

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If the constructs were surprised by the Doktor's speed, it didn't show; and he heard the clanking of their armor as they bolted for the wolves. As one of the greatest scientific minds in Freedom City deked and dodged through the blackness, narrowly avoiding tree after tree, a single glance backwards revealed three of the black-armored hunters in hot pursuit. Weapons in hand, they kept pace with the Doktor, moving by the trees as if they weren't even there.

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Ah, only three following, so the other two must be back on the trail of Reinhard.

"Be aware, liebchen," Archeville's calm, dulcet voice emanated from her Interceptors communicator, "that two of the hunters remain on your trail. I am leading three of them away from you. I am thus far able to keep well ahead of them, so you should have no problem escaping them. Once I get these three far enough away, I shall rejoin you and our new friends."

Archeville flew on, idea racing through his head.

Okay, I do not know where I am, do not know the terrain. Fortunately I am flying, so any unexpected pittfalls or cliffs will not be an issue. I have to lead them far enough that they cannot easily rejoin their counterparts, but I do not know where-

Ah, I think I hear... and smell... yes! A river!

" Warlord, "

Wow, this is a lot harder than Erik makes it out to be!
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If it was possible for giant black metal suits of armor to appear angry, then Dok could've sworn the Jagers trailing him were absolutely furious. A throwing-axe came spinning out of the darkness, thudding into a tree near him as he sped by it, and he could almost feel the panting of the wolves right on his heels...

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Meanwhile...

Reinhardt and Elisa moved with alacrity through the trees, Fulcrum following behind easily, until an earsplitting howl could be heard nearly right behind them. Then a second. Fulcrum's two charges seemed to push themselves harder as the crashing in the brush grew much, much closer...

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Fulcrum cupped her hand over her ear and whispered, "Viktor? Are you okay? Viktor?" After the faint cry, only the rush of air could be heard.

Scowling, she considered speaking more loudly, but the howls put a quick stop to that idea. A quick flip and she flew backwards, letting other senses compensate for monitoring the family. Her defensive posture only lasted a second or two before she came to a decision. The giantess scooped up husband and wife in her massive arms.

Still moving forward slowly, she whispered tensely, translating as best she could, "Hold on and point the way. Quick!"

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The escapees looked absolutely bewildered, but they gripped tightly, the mother holding her child close as they were swept up in Fulcrum's arms. Mutely, Reinhard pointed further west, stammering in thick Germanic that, unfortunately, Fulcrum could not translate. Fortunately, the accompanying arm gestures made it quite clear that she was to move with all haste! That, and the crashing noises were awfully close, and she could make out silhouettes of huge armored figures rapidly approaching through the trees...

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Meanwhile...

The chase continued as Dok weaved in and out of the trees, his pursuers seemingly tireless as they kept the pace behind him. Luckily, or so it seemed, no more throwing axes seem to fly in his direction; they seemed quite content to simply follow him and keep pace. Perhaps they figured he would tire soon, and land, that they might finish him off?

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With a swoosh of frosty air, Fulcrum zoomed off into the forest with her charges. Ideally, she'd climb above the trees, but she couldn't be sure if the pursuers would miss them. Instead their trip looked like a fast-forward of the speeder bike scene from The Return of the Jedi. Which most likely was terrifying to her passengers, save for the incredible reflexes at missing trees and other obstacles at 70 mph.

Not all of her power shifted into flight. 70, even a 100 mph, didn't even stress her abilities. So she threw a lot of power into her senses, letting her normal and cosmic drift away from her. That way she could keep track of the monsters behind them as well as any ambushes before them! Plus the concentration kept her focused on her mission. Otherwise worry gnawed at her.

I hope Viktor is okay. He never listens!

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My words are having an effect! Alright, Viktor, think: what would Erik say in this situation?

"," he called behind him, his voice becoming more confident and tone more flippant. "

Almost at the river...

"

Ah here we are. Just a bit closer...

""

Archeville slowed, making them think he was tiring. He zig-zagged a bit, making them shift their positions; their mysterious director saw an opening through the trees when all three could pounce at once on him. Eager to make this smug stranger pay, the golems were commanded to pounce.

And fell over the cliff, passing by the hovering Archeville, and plunged into the river below.

"" he called down.

Archeville turned and zipped back, at full speed, to the clearing where Mona and he had appeared.

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