Fear and Hunger: Pr_y For God - Part Three

The Officer, Theologian and Yellow Mage stood at the entrance to the Bunker Network, hestiating. They had a solid plan for escaping this Alll-Mer forsaken island but it involved getting past that flame-thrower wielding Sylvian Marriage below them. After no small amount of cajoling from his fellow Survivors, the Officer was eventually convinced to try and pull rank on the pyromaniacal monstrosity. The cowardly Bremen swigged the last of his beer and strode down the concrete steps towards the overpowering stench of burning gasoline and blood.

With the papist and oriental witch following nervously behind, the Officer blew upon his bugle and raised his voice at the masked war-machine. "At attention! Soldier, identify yourself immediately."

A pause.

The Officer's blood ran cold as ice as those emotionless windows of soot-covered glass stared him down. For a moment he was sure that flamethrower would be turned on him, burning his flesh to the bone. But then the Dragon Coin he kept in his pocket grew warm. He had looted the artefact months prior from a Xuanyuanese priestess who claimed it brought good fortune to those who carried it. It hadn't stopped his men from bayonetting the screaming woman to death. 

But now there was a change in the air. An invisible thumb pressing down on the scales of fate.

"Military designation 1-1-5-7. Standing orders - sanitisation of abominable organisms."

The three Survivors released an audible sigh of relief. Straightening his back, the Officer informed the Sylvian Marriage that there was an "abominable organism" in the Courtyard of the Bremen Fort that needed to be "sanitised". The towering soldier released a gravelly affirmation and strode up the stairs towards the unknown entity the Survivors had heard earlier. Soon came the sounds of a violent battle erupting above them: the deafening report of automatic gunfire, the roar of a flamethrower and ground-shaking explosions.

The Survivors didn't stick around to see who won.

Meanwhile, the Captain and his new ally of circumstance, the Sniper, made their way down the bell-tower's stairs quietly - trying to avoid the attention of the horde of mutants still milling around outside. It didn't work, and soon the enraged monstrosities were ripping their way through the barricaded windows of the Church get to them. The pair beat a hasty retreat into the Catacombs, stacking ruined pews to block the doorway and buy them more time to escape.

On the brightside, the Sniper found a new tunnel leading even deeper into the karst caves of Lantern Island - the site of some kind of archaeological dig. They didn't explore further, but the Captain did pick up an old sledgehammer from the dig team's abandoned equipment, passing his old spear to the Sniper (he kept the man's rifle, still not wholly trusting him).

Soon, the pair managed to rendezvous with the other three Survivors in the Generator Roon of the Bunker Network. The Sniper and Officer nearly came to blows, accusing each other of being an imperialist pillager and degenerate communist respectively, but the situation was diffused when the ex-cultist claimed he could help them transport the barrels of fuel in the room. He told them that the Royal Taxi Depot was nearby - if they salvage a working vehicle they could move all the diesel they needed to the Submarine and escape the Special Region.

Mollified, the Officer agreed to the plan and the Survivors set off into the overgrown Botanical Gardens once again. Thankfully, their trip through the fog-shrouded streets were uneventful and they quickly spotted the tall brick walls of the Royal Taxi Depot up ahead. There was several taxi cabs out in the parking lot, but they had all been destroyed by the omnipresent corrosive fog. 

The Sniper got a boost from the Captain to peek in through the main building's cloudy windows, but swore in Xuanyuanese after looking inside. He said there was a a pair of "Betrothed" within, passionantly rutting with each other. When asked as to what a "Betrothed" was, the Sniper explained that humans weren't the only things the Bremen Army experimented with - Betrothed are the result of forcing Bremen war-hounds to undergo a Sylvian Marriage. Put simply, they're massive, two-headed dogs that are incredibly violent and territorial. 

Nonetheless, the Survivors readied their weapons and swung open the doors to the building. The Betrothed were soon upon them, snapping and barking, but they were quickly dispatched with a bevy of gunshots and well-placed sledgehammer strikes. As the Survivors patched up their wounds, the Captain inspected the taxi cab - proudly announcing that it still worked. 

Within a few minutes the Survivors returned to the secret entrance to the Bunker Network, loading up as many diesel barrels as they could fit in their new taxi. However, the Officer wasn't eager to leave the Special Region with a mangled eyeball, and both the Theologian and Yellow Mage were eager to plumb more eldritch secrets from the disaster zone. To this end, they agreed to track down another suggestion from the Sniper - a Sylvian Ritual Circle hidden in the basement of the Lecherous Goose, a bar of ill-repute in the Residential District. 

The taxi couldn't move too fast with the additional weight of the barrels taking up its seats, so the Survivors (except for the Officer, who "bravely volunteered" to drive) formed an infantry screen around their precious cargo. The slow pace of the vehicle made the ever-encroaching sound of the Burning Tide's artillery all the more nerve-wracking, but least the journey to the Lecherous Goose was an uneventful one. If any of those pot-bellied mutants were around they weren't daring to attack the heavily-armed party.

The Lecherous Goose was destroyed public house that had been struck by an artillery shell. Nonetheless, the inviting smell of alcohol wafting from within was strong enough to overpower the acrid scent of the fog - earning a shared grin between the Captain and Officer. Upon entering, the place was indeed trashed - bar sundered, tables broken and bottles shattered. Strangely, there was a lone glass of wine untouched by the surrounding devastation, sitting innocently upon a pile of debris. The Survivors eyed it warily - it didn't even seem to have a mote of dust on it.

Well, all except for the Captain. He greedily swigged it down and declared it to be a delicious Europan vintage. The others stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded, before dismissing the drunken Rondonian and beginning to search the Lecherous Goose.

The Officer retrieved an armful of luke-warm pilsner from the remains of the bar, whilst the Theologian kept watch on the street and the Captain stared longingly at the empty wine glass in his hand. Meanwhile, the Sniper shifted aside rubble to try and find the basement. The Yellow Mage offered some unsolicited help, knocking aside a ruined table and gleefully using her metal staff to lever open the trapdoor beneath it - eagre to uncover the ritual circle.

A shouted warning came from behind. She turned in confusion to see the horrified expression of the Sniper staring at the opened hatch. Looking down, first she saw the basement was filled with fumes from several ruptured steel tanks. Next, the tiny spark her metal staff had kicked up against the brickwork - descending gently downwards into the dense, vapourised ethanol.

And then everything went white.