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Post by crow on Jan 23, 2015 19:36:37 GMT -5
Three days. Three full days had the shadow been tracking this particular band of raiders through the crumbled remnants of past society. Often it didn't even take that long to hunt down monsters who preyed upon others. Prey was a fitting term; it described not only how they saw the huddled masses eking out an existence outside the Dome, but also what they became themselves. A week ago the assembled armed thugs had seen fit to destroy a small group of traders trying to reach somewhere to sell their scrap and the like. No survivors had been left. The shadow who later followed them was well versed in certain techniques utilized by both sides of the conflict. All signs on the bodies pointed toward their having been tortured before these cruel beings had robbed them of their life. A few days later they'd hit another group but taken a prisoner from the group in the form of a pretty girl. The girl had been cowering behind some rubble while her family or friends had been slaughtered mercilessly before her. Her cries had reached the ears of the shadow, and the shadow was waiting for the right time to strike.
Thus far the raiders hadn't taken advantage of their prisoner as one might suspect. Possibly just waiting 'til they got to whatever rat hole they called a hideout so they could do the deed at their leisure. No way was that going to be allowed though. All the way on their path they'd been paranoid, nervous that someone was watching them. Constantly looking over their shoulders, occasionally firing into the rubble at imagined pursuers. Tonight they would find their worst fears realized - someone had been following them. She knew everything they'd done. It was her intention that they pay for their sins in the most violent way possible. They'd shown no mercy to anyone and neither would the lone huntress known as Crow. Crow watched from above the rubble of a shop whose name time had washed away. From all indications they were about to finally do their wicked deed to the one survivor of their attacks.
Foolishly they thought one sentry was going to be enough to prevent anyone from interfering with their fun. Tall and well armed, but also a bit thin and obviously nervous about standing guard while his buddies were safe inside. Word got around that there was a shadowy figure who hunted raiders. A sound echoed through the next building over, something striking the floor or stairway. The sentry jerked his head in toward the sound and sealed his fate. Crow dropped down behind the man, crept up to him with a knife in hand. Before he could make a sound she wrapped one arm around his throat while shoving the blade deeply between his ribs. Blood began to flow as she twisted the knife. No mercy for the wicked. Once the lights flickered out, she stepped his body over to the overhang of the radiers' hideout. Stoic as always she removed her knife and kicked the lifeless thug down into the middle of his friends. Their intended victim was bound in a corner, but they wouldn't be able to harm her as intended. Not when there was a dark figure in a beaten black duster, clutching a knife in one hand and a bat in the other staring down at them.
"Shit! Shit, it's her!" one of the raiders shouted, loud enough to attract the attention of anyone in the general area.
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Post by Dusty Dawson on Jan 23, 2015 22:37:37 GMT -5
Maybe it was divine intervention. Maybe it was an alignment of the planets, or some other cosmic twist of fate. For all Dusty knew, it was a butterfly, somewhere on the other side of the planet, flapping it's wings. Whatever it was, she had survived her encounter with the Echo named Bella. And what better way to celebrate such an achievement, by hunting down a group of well armed and dangerously psychotic outlaws.
Well, there were a few extra steps in between. Dusty had found a settlement and immediately acquired a drink that she felt she so richly deserved. She had gotten a few sips into, when a commotion interrupted her celebration. News of Raiders in the area. They had already sacked one caravan of traders. Another one had also been hit and a hostage had been taken. Although "hostage" was a generous term. From all accounts, everyone had started to talk as if she was already dead.
She had taken a moment to look at the drink in her hand, despite the fact that her decision had already been made. The only questions were for the details. What direction were they last seen, heading. How many were there. What kinds of weapons did they use. The information was scant, but was enough to give her something to work with. She wasted little time in getting on the trail.
Dusty tracked them through the ruins. The shell casings were like breadcrumbs, which made things much easier than she had been expecting. At this rate, there might be enough time to take actually rescue the prisoner, before anything bad happened to her. Dusty moved quietly and quickly. With her revolver at her hip and katana strapped across her back, Dusty carried her rifle. The thing she liked about the ruined cities, was all of the cover and resources it provided. It really saved room, for bringing along extra gear.
Hardware stores were the best. If they hadn't already been picked apart, there were often things that she could use to cobble together some distractions. She had a pair of tin cans that were sealed up and ready for use. Flash bangs were harmless, but disorienting. The girl they had captured wouldn't enjoy the experience, but it was better than what the Raiders had in mind. And with the enemy taken by surprise, it would be an easy job for Dusty to move in and let her katana do the hard work.
But, first she would need to take out that sentry. Once she had the group in one area, she knew they wouldn't stand a chance. Crazy was no substitute for smart tactics. She made her way up one of the nearby buildings. If she could get a clear view of the sentry, she could take him out with her rifle. The sound would attract the attention of the thugs and one or two might be sent to investigate.
Dusty knew she would have to act quickly after that. She would have to hurry to deal with the main group first. After the girl was secured, she could mop up any stragglers with her second flash bang, or her revolver. Whichever was easier. Those plans were shifted, as her foot hit one of the steps leading to the upper floors. It was loose and dropped to the floor, below. Dusty was only just barely able to keep from following it down below. She cursed under her breath, certain that she was going to have to deal with an ugly shootout.
However, as she crept up to one of the windows to peer outside, she found that someone else had started to move in for the kill. Some dark figure had neutralized the sentry and was dragging him off. Now there was an unexpected element, if she ever saw one. And just like that, she had a moment to strike. Dusty made haste for the exit, bounding down the stairs. It was noisy, but the lone guard was already out of the equation.
Whoever the dark figure was, they were moving in for the kill. Dusty wasn't going to take any chances. She was going to rescue that girl and bring her back. Even if the Variable (as she thought of this person) was attacking the raiders, didn't mean they were on the same side. That was something she would have to figure out later. The Drifter heard the panicked shouts as she got closer to their location. She stood next to a door and cracked it open. The targets were inside, focusing their attention upwards. Dusty readied a flash bang and tossed it inside. She blew a quick whistle, before she slammed the door shut. The Raiders turned as the canister rolled to a stop at one of their feet.
That was when the flash bang made a flash and a bang.
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Post by crow on Jan 23, 2015 23:28:09 GMT -5
Rather unexpectedly a redheaded woman arrived on the scene just as the dark warrior was about to leap into the fray. Crow was aware of her presence before pulling the knife out of the sentry. Young, female, red hair and some sort of odd cowgirl outfit to go with her striking looks. Even after fleeing the rebellion of false lies, she still had her battle senses honed to razor sharpness. Judging by what the woman who'd just arrived was doing it was easy to tell this was no extra raider whatsoever. More likely someone who'd come after the raiders on her own - maybe she'd been paid. Experience had shown there weren't enough kindred spirits to assume that this was another person who preyed upon the wicked. An enemy of the enemy at the very least. Just as the door opened amid the raiders' panic Crow knew the cowgirl had something up her sleeve. Some nasty trick involving a canister was all she needed to realize that this was probably an explosive device of some kind. As such Crow took cover behind some rubble and covered her ears, knowing the sound of the detonation would be amplified in the room below.
A couple beats after detonation she was back on the offensive against the remaining raiders. Dazed as they were it was little trouble to leap into their midst without fear of attacks of opportunity arising. Eyes stoic as ever she hefted her bat and began her grisly work. One raider had his head pounded full force with the bat, falling before he could even shout a warning to his friends. Crow spun into the space that man had occupied, thrust her knife into a second raider's throat and twisted it. After all the pain they'd caused it was right that she exact pain from the scum in kind. Removing the knife she took a defensive stance and glanced to the door. Surely the redhead would enter soon and perhaps open fire. It'd be prudent to warn her that they were at the moment on the same side; bullets were a pain to remove from your body, cut down on time that could be spent hunting evil doers.
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Post by Dusty Dawson on Jan 24, 2015 0:54:03 GMT -5
Dusty waited for just a few moments longer than she typically would have. It was always best to strike hard and fast, when you had your enemies nice and distracted. However, she wasn't the only one on the scene. There was also the mystery guest, up above the raiders. If they were smart...and Dusty figured they were...they would probably guard themselves against the blast. They would be far enough away and have more cover to minimize the effects.
Still, it never hurt to be cautious. The door creaked open and Dusty made a sweep with her rifle. Only two people were left. The girl and the figure. A darkly dressed girl, who stood over the fallen raiders. Bat in one hand, a knife in the other. Not exactly the conventional sort of weaponry. Although Dusty would call it "simple, yet effective". She stared down the sights of the rifle and kept it level.
"Alright friend, I'm guessin' you ain't one o' them." she said, "Now, I don't know who you are with, but I'm takin' that girl back to her people. I don't see a reason for us to start tryin' an' killin' each other...so, what say we settle this like nice, civilized folk? I don't bother you, you don't bother me."
Her rifle remained level. Dusty had her guard up and wasn't about to lower it, until the situation become clearer. Situations like this could be very touch and go and it was a very fine line that she would have to walk, before she could secure the prisoner and make her way back.
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Post by crow on Jan 24, 2015 17:40:28 GMT -5
Professional. That was the shadow warrior's assessment of the cowgirl after she finally stepped into the room with a weapon drawn. What raiders had remained on their feet were quickly taken down by accurate gunfire from the redhead's considerable arsenal. Crow took a moment to bash in the skull of the first of the raiders she'd killed to ensure he was neutralized. Had this been her fight alone it would've still been going on and had the likelihood that she'd have to patch herself up. Instead the enemy of her enemy had been a useful ally against the raiders so much so that neither had been hurt. Guns weren't something Crow normally used since you ran out of ammo fast or could experience jams of any number of kinds. A knife you could sharpen or replace with relative ease. Bats didn't even need that much maintenance. Neither had to be reloaded, both were silent which suited her style of fighting all the better.
The cowgirl spoke to her without lowering her own firearm. Smart. Never assume that just because you happen to be fighting the same people at a given moment the other person was friendly. Crow would've smirked at that had she any room for such emotion. Instead she set her bat down, then walked over to the weeping captive girl with her knife still out. A curious glance to the redhead held no malice as she cut the bonds which restrained the prisoner. Only after that did Crow sheath her knife, taking a moment to wipe its blade off on a dead raider before doing so. Without a word she crouched down and scooped the girl up in her arms. Somehow she managed to grab her bat with one hand. That done she looked back to Dusty and nodded, showing her that they were for the time being they were on the same side.
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Post by Dusty Dawson on Jan 24, 2015 19:56:28 GMT -5
In almost no time, they had cleared out the room. Not a Raider was left alive, either by bludgeoning, stabbing or shooting. There was just barely enough room for Dusty to be impressed with the other girl's handiwork. This was likely not her first time in a fight. And jumping into a Raider hideout with only a bat and a knife was a pretty gutsy choice. It showed either a great deal of confidence, or an almost suicidal disregard for her own well being. Perhaps there was a combination of the two.
When the darkly dressed girl failed to respond, verbally, Dusty kept the rifle leveled and tracked her movements. She did communicate with gestures. And indicated that she wasn't going to harm the girl who was tied up in the corner. But gestures could only mean so much. So, Dusty kept a sharp blue eye on the girl. And let out a sigh of relief as the ropes were cut and she carried the girl in her arms. She lowered her weapon and gave a slight nod.
"Well, alright then." Dusty replied, "If you ain't the talkative type, I won't be holdin' that against ya. What say we get a move on, then. I ain't sure if there's more o' these fine folks skulkin' about, but I ain't eager to sit an' find out. I'll take point. Make sure trouble steers well clear o' us."
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