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Portfolio Entries from Peebothuhlu

  1. Flight or FIGHT

    Flight or FIIGHT! (Part 5) Suddenly he saw them. Two large hulking shapes rising swiftly from the depths of the river to stand either side of McCain. Within seconds the dripping stacks and upper hulls of the machines burst from the waters and Karchev found himself staring into the glowing, glassed in ports of Mariner class labor-jacks. As their vents came clear of the river they opened with a 'clank' and then a belch of smoke and ash erupted form their stacks as the machines switched from...
  2. Flight or FIGHT

    Flight or FIGHT! (Part 4) Allison McCain began to hesitantly step backwards. Splashing into the swirling waters, feeling each step with a cautiously placed boot heel. She had so much adrenaline running through her system that she hardly noticed the cold water as it began to soak through her clothes. Concentrating on her footing while holding her pistols well clear of the rivers tumbling surface and her eyes on Karchev and his 'pets' in case they made any sudden movements. "You know." She...
  3. Flight or FIGHT

    Flight or FIGHT! (Part 3) Standing almost twice the height of a man, the Khardoran War-jack held the uprooted trunk of a small tree in one large metal fist, as its stacks chuffed smoke and steam into the sky from the effort of tearing its multi-ton bulk through the forest. Tossing the felled lumber away with a casual seeming ease, the War-jack shoulder its way completely clear of the foliage and walked forwards, its eye plates aglow and scanning, a second machine appeared pushing further...
  4. Flight or FIGHT

    Flight or FIGHT! (Part 2) "[email protected]" She breathed softly. A soft rustling of foliage a decent way off to the group’s right caught their attention and had all seven of them turning and raising weapons as a sun bronzed figure in furs stood up, grinning at their plight. "Awe, poor leedle svans. Too afraid to get feadders vet?" The powerfully built fellow called in a thick accent, while casually holding a large hand axe nonchalantly across one shoulder, with a second such weapon in a...
  5. Flight or FIGHT

    Flight or FIGHT! Branches whipped at his face, undergrowth tugged at his trouser legs as he bounded a fallen log in his path. In his eight or so years in the service to the scout corps he'd never run from a threat, evaded, outmaneuvered and hidden but on this day Sergeant Gunter Ryley wasn't ashamed to admit to himself he was fleeing for his life. Hidden behind him amongst the forest something pursued his headlong flight. Gunter’s one clear thought was, *Must. Run. Faster.* just in front of...
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