"Is it just me mate, or wern't you listening to a word I just said?" Rayne was still looking toward the bar, but the tone in his voice said it all "You go out there an' you ain't commin back. An' if you do come back, then ya' not coming in, cus chances are you'll have dusters folloin' ya."

"Unless you've got heat vision too," Breech added helpfully, "There's a damn good reason those things attack in dust-storms - and that's cus normal people can't see any which way to fight them."

"The cocktails ain't fer fightin'. They're fer distraction. If some of them get too interested in this building, we open a window and fling a few as far as we can," McCaffrey picked up a freshly-made molotov off the bar as he spoke. "With any luck, it'll draw their attention long enough fer the storm to pass."

"You're not gonna be able to throw it far enough to get them far enough away from us," the coon said.

"Don't worry, my associate Righty'll put it far enough away from us." McCaffrey turned toward James. "And you get yer ass away from that door, swordsman. Ya ain't gonna ruin a fortified position by opening the front gate jus' so you can act like a desert badass fer the remaining minutes of yer life. Jus' take yer seat like he said." Lefty, McCaffrey thought. You watch the door. Any bugs try comin' in, you show em out. Lefty cackled from his position in the middle of the room in response as he turned the Tommy gun towards the door.

The fox sighed and shook his head, "If we believe in the Founders, they will protect us. If we have faith, the art will guide us." He stopped and blinked, "Is there anything to drink in here?"

Talios kept his eyes on the door, he'd been in similar situations, only different weather conditions and a very different location. And it wasn't any kind of animal, no matter how intelligent, they weren't armed in the same way.
Over hearing the fox's question he reached inside his uniform, "Here." He brought a water flask out and tossed it to the fox, who caught it.
"Drink that."
Then he drew his pistol and got ready incase anything came through the door.

After a short intermission of guzzling down most of flask he set it down carefully and suddenly looked at the door oddly asking in far less stoic tone, "Wait... where's my brother?"

"You came in alone. What's your brother look like?" Breech asked him. The young fox was clearly insane, and she had a soft spot for the mentally disturbed.

She believed that one should always feel sorry for the people they found themselves identifying with.

Zu mumbled something under his breath, recovering slowly but surely from Breech's hard left hook. The alcohol had worked it's way down to his bladder.

"I gotta pee," mumbled Zu, still in a heap against the wall, his eyes closed, waiting for the Dusters pass over the tavern like they always did.

"I... what? Where am I, anyway? Did one of you bring me in here?" The fox started to look alarmed, as if he was finally aware of his surroundings.

Talios looked over at Zu for a few moments then turned back to the door, there were more important things to concentrate on at the moment. He tensed up again as another screech came from outside, it was deffinitely closer.

Breech gritted her teeth and reached under the table, "Come on, boy," she sighed, "You're in the middle of trouble. If you'll consent to trust me, maybe you'll tell me in private what's up?"

"If your brother was out in the storm, he's probably already bug bait by now." The coon muttered "You should have said something earlier."

"I still don' git what ya'r all so woried about?" Piped an old Boarder-Colly, sitting against the far wall "The Dusters come an' go wit' every storm thats ever blown though these parts, thee'll just pass over just like they always do."

Rayne didn't bother looking at the Colly as he spoke "Becaus', old timer, they've been acting strange resently. Attackin' Duridiam convoys from the mines, hunting the weeker miners without the storm for cover, even taking on a garrasond building close to the crater rim. Somethin's got them all raild up. Okay, so they may well pass over as usual with no trouble. Hope for the best, prepair for the worst."

"Earlier? What do you mean, I just woke up? I... don't remember anything before I woke up under that table." The fox grumbled at the canine

He looked at Breech, then back at the collie. Noone was telling him anything. "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst..." He grumbled looking back at Breech, "The best is that I survive out there, find Tobe, and find out what happened to me. The worst is, well, that I don't." He walked over to the window and eyed the storm, even if he left now he wouldn't be able to see anything in this.

Breech tried to place where she'd seen this sort of behaviour before. It wasn't short-term memory loss, nor was it anything like her dangerous mood swings, so it must be...

"Gods dammit," she sighed, "What did you say your name was, boy?"

The first Duster past over harmlessly over the tavern, the scratching of it's insectoid legs skittered across the roof of the tavern. As the violent sandstorm engulfed the Tavern, brief flashes of figures darting amid the sand winds could be seen out of the dirty tavern windows.

"Rico. Just, Rico." The fox said warily, as if his surname would be dangerous to utter.

"Okay, Rico," Breech sighed, as a whole horde of Dusters flew over the tavern, and around it a few time, "Come on out..."

One of the Dusters landed on the chimney and let out an ear-busting screech. Breech dropped her gun in shock.

The minner whinced at the screach, its ferosity amplifyed by the chimny's mettal tubing.
"Oooh crap" The coon muttered, taking time to look out the window and obeserving as a Duster ran past. They wern't intrested in the cabin... but something elce had their full attention, all of them were heading straight into town, as if drawn by a Pipper.

"What do you intend to do with those things?"

"Get his attention,"

"But Psion Temple is on the other side of Mobius, how is driving a bunch of Dusters crazy going to affect him?"

"He can't ignore the death around him for too much longer, he'll stick is neck out sooner or later and when he does we'll be there to slit his throat,"

***

Zu staggered to his feet, his normally chipper mood dampened by the pressure in his bladder. His whole face hurt, like he had been punched just a second or two ago, but he couldn't remember. He leaned against the door frame and looked outside the window, they were right in the middle of the storm. The Dusters weren't going to waste time on this crappy little tavern.

The buzz was starting to wane and Zu was beginning to feel sick. The red-head was suddenly gripped with terror as he caught sight of Rico. His hands began to shake uncontrollably, his face turning beet red and his breathing more labored. Zu slammed the wall with his fist, causing the pictures of old farm families to shake with the impact.

Then his mental fit passed. Zu staggered over to the bar.

"Hey barkeep, gimme a drink..." gasped Zu desperately.

"Hey, Zu, I think you've had enough, besides, Colonel says we need the liquor to-"

"Please! Put it on my tab, I need a drink," coughed Zu, his eyes bloodshot, his head leaning on the dirty bar.

The bartender looked over at the Colonel, who was staring intently at the door. He sighed then pulled a bottle of hard Downunda Whiskey and took Zu's flask. With the aid of a funnel he filled Zu's large flask and handed it back to the crazy drunk. The dirty bum eagerly downed several shots worth of whiskey then laid his head down on the bar again, stuffing the flask into his dirty torn jacket while sobbing quietly to himself.

OOC: How many times is Rico to have to come out from under the table before you LET him come out?

"Come out of where?" The fox muttered looking outside. "Go outside? I'm thinking about it. I'm not sure how I got from the forest to this booze house, and noone will tell me."

"Well, you probably walked," Breech said amicably. She winced suddenly, feeling slightly nauseous as she picked up her gun.

The Dusters had passed over, but the storm was still there, and she really wanted to get outside and throw up.

Rico glared, "It's hard to walk when you're unconscious. So no, I don't think I walked in here."

"I saw you walk in here, boy," said Breech, "I think you've got a problem, and I'd name it too, but I don't want to start another fight."

She winced again, "If you'd concend to come aside with me, perhaps we could discuss it quietly?" she suggested.

The firey liquid washed all of Zu's worries away and suddenly he couldn't remember why it was he so desperately feared Rico, why he so desperately felt compelled to kill him. As he peeked around the bar he noticed a familiar emblem hanging haphazardly off a decrepit bulletin board behind the bar.

"Northcastle..." blurted out Zu with a giggle, the name of the crest coming to mind in a flash.

Zu turned around and tugged on the Colonel's coat, "Sayyy buddy, I think them thingsss is gone nowsss."

The coon stared idaly out of the bar window "Odd... Storms clearing already?"
Several patrens leened over to look, finding that the visabity outside was drasicaly improved from the earlier sand-out. The coon stroaked his chin with a thoughtful look "First the dusters are act'in strange.. then the storms themselves?"
Rayne glanced back into the room as the overlander giggled at something, deciding that he didn't like the 'signels' one bit.
"There's something screwee goin' on around here"

Breech sighed with relief, "Excuse me," she said, and walked outside the bar. There was the sound of retching, and finally of someone being sick.

"Odd," muttered the barkeeper, "She only had one vodka."

IC:
Talios relaxed a little at the knowledge that the Dusters had passed, but he also wondered where they were going. Deciding that it was time to leave he carefully holstered his pistol then headed for the door.
TBC

"Hey missster," slurred the drunk as he nearly fell out of his chair trying to follow Talios, "Where'ss ya a'goin?"

Talios reached for his pistol, feeling the hard handled under his hand, he knew by now that the drunk seemed to be able to disarm people without knowing it.

"It'sss stuffy in here, thinks me I'll go with ya?" said Zu in a questioning, infirm voice.

The Colonel breathed a sigh of relief now that the dusters had passed on. What he'd failed to tell the others is that during the course of his previous successful defense of an establishment during a sandstorm, one of the patrons had gotten stupid, opened up a window and shot into the storm. The combination of light, sound and heat had brought the dusters in droves, and in the half-hour that followed 13 of the patrons were killed as a result. McCaffrey far preferred the 100% survival rate he got this time.

"Well, barkeep, I suppose that's a crisis averted. Mind giving me a cocktail real quick?" The barkeep nodded and passed him a bottle with an alcohol-soaked dishrag in it. McCaffrey pulled the rag out and downed the strong mixture of most of the bar's hardest liquors. (I wish you wouldn't do that, sir.) Righty's thoughts invaded his head. (It makes it very hard to understand your thoughts.) McCaffrey finished off the bottle and set it on the bar before looking at the other patrons of the bar. (So, are we going to the next business yet, sir?) Righty asked him mentally. No, he replied. There's something strange about a couple of the patrons in here. I'm gonna poke around, find out who's more than what they're lettin' on. Like Zu, who had stopped bothering McCaffrey and was now off bothering someone else, or maybe just distracting them long enough to steal their piece and make a second attempt on the spaced-out drifter who'd come in before the storm.

Rico moved back from feline, "I... walked in here? But how? I don't remember anything before waking up under the table."

The coon was still stairing out of the window when he sudenly spoke up. It was strange how even though he wasn't facing them, people knew exactly who he was adressing.
"You were dillutional" He said, finly turning around after a few minuets of checking the coste was definatly clear "I'd say you've got amnisia mate. Easy enough to get around here if you get caught out in the desert heat for too long."

"Amnesia? But I know who I am. I know we got attacked. I know everything about myself. But from the time they whapped me to the time I woke up under that table, its like I was knocked out or something." Rico said glaring at the coon, "I also know my little brother is lost out there and I need to know where 'here' is."

Outside the tavern, in the storm that was almost over, Breech was finishing being sick, unaware of the hostile eyes that were watching her.

A lone target, in a sickly condition. Perfect.

The two straggling Dusters flew straight at her. She turned around, just as one long, mosquito-like nose skewered her left shouler, and another went straight through her right thigh. She screamed in pain as she was literally pinned to the wall.

"Oh, godsdammit!" she screamed, trying to reach her gun, and it was heard clearly inside the tavern.

Talios heard Breech's cry before he saw the problem he drew his pistol and was out the door in a few seconds.
Running on adrenaline he fired at the two dusters hoping Breech wouldn't suddenly jerk and get in the way of a bullet.
With a twinge of pain he realised some part of him was enjoying this, it had been itching for a fight.
Throwing this probelm to the back of his mind he fired rapidly filling the dusters through of holes. He panted for a moment before going to help Breech free herself from the wall. They were still stuck in her.
Alert for any more attacks he grabbed one and pulled it away from the wall and her shoulder. With a soft thunk it came free, Talios was dimly aware of vague memories of slightly similar situations. The world was blurring again.
He stopped and close his eyes for a few moments, the opened them again.
He was back now.

Gasping in pain, Breech reached down and ripped the other Duster's needle out of her leg with a curse.

"Holy crap..." she managed, and slumped to the ground, "Tha... tha..." she pointed at the dead Dusters, which were still twitching.

Talios bent down and ferreted around under his jacket, he brought out parts of a first aid kit, and went to fix up the wounds a bit.
"Try not to talk just try and stay awake, you may get a bit dizzy. Okay, this might hurt."
He pressed down firmly around the leg wound as he cleaned it then wrapped it up, tying it off with a bit of tape. Then watching to see if the blood would continue to seep through. Fortunately it didn't, he sighed in relief and went onto the
shoulder.

"Annnd that," The coon mermered sarcasticly, sitting down to listen to the yells of suprise and gunfire coming from outside "is why I told them not to go out."

"Ay', shouldn't we like, go help or sumat'?" Rambled the old Colly, his gaze carrying far more wory then was realy nessery.

Rayne shrugged and poured out another glass of whisky from his hip flask "Nun' of my buisness old timer. You go help if ya wana', bud am stayin' right here."

The colly grumbled as he stood up and started toward the door, grabbing a duffle bag from the back of his chair "Never known a miner to be so yela'. Thought you yung un's were suposed to be tough, hu?"

It was clear the insults just bounced off the coon's armer, bearly making a flich at the old colly's coment that would have made most men draw their guns "I might be yela', old man, but I'm alive.. An' I'd like to keep it that way."
He took a daught from his tumbler, his eyes finding the tattered old poster on the note board, the symble on its by now frail paper was warn and faided by time yet still just visible, recognised by just about everyone, yet never achnolaged...
"I may be a Raccoon..." Rayne muttered, far more quietly then usual "But I ain't no NorthTower."

"I... owe you my life..." Breech winced, "They'd have eaten me and laid their eggs in my corpse..."

"What did I say about talking?" asked Talios.

"Thanks..." Breech managed.

The door to the tavern open and disgorged the old colly into the dust filled air. Though the gale had calmed already, visibility was still lousy and the oldtimer had to use his hand to sheild his eyes from the grit. He stumbled to the injured feline, looking at the bandages and checking for other wounds.
"We'll hav' to get her inside." He said, taking a rather old looking role of bandage from his own bag and proceding to aid Talios dress the second wound "Woo'wee! She's real lucky they were only red Dusters, the young un's poson only makes ya numb an' nausious, but a scratch from the blackn's wull keel'ya in only a few 'ours unless you get help." He chortled, grabbing one of felines arms once the bandaging was compleat "Ok. On th' count a three, we lifts 'er to 'er feet. Ready?"

"Oh, great," Breech complained, inspecting her jacket, which now had a large hole in the shoulder, "I'm gonna feel even more sick than normal..."

She pulled it back on anyway.

"Three!" Talios and the collie lifted her, and she staggered back into the tavern.

He still had no clue where he was, from the window it was clearing up and looked like some kind of run down town in a dirt infested wasteland. The last thing he remembered was a forest, but his memory was fuzzy on any names, maybe the coon had been right about the amnesia.

Memories of his brother were real though, too real to be false. He watched the others come back in, the stood in the doorway staring outside longingly. He wanted to leave, but he had no idea where to go.

But as events occured in the tavern, a lone figure in a drooping dark purple cloak walked. The feeling of his boots hitting the sandy desert, and the hard rough touch of the heavy sandy winds across his face. Though, he had faced sandstorms throughout his time in ages. The figure had red fur with maroon hair that drooped to his shoulders. He had light brown colored eyes and a pair of fox ears ripped through the cloaks hood. The ears were red with black tips. The figure though, seemed in his early twenties. Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two; around there. His flowing red fox tail flowed behidn him. Instead of a angel white tip however it was black. The rest of the clothes visable were a pair of jet-black pants held tight by a steel belt. Also a amulet hung from his neck. And inside the amulet was a dark green orb. A short sword dangled from his belt. A old weapon, indeed.
Though, true the figure did seem young but his eyes seemed to be filled with ages longer of history, fights, and pain. As he walked on, he saw it. The Tavern. It wasn't far, not at all.
"Perfect..." he thought, but the thoguht was soon ended by the noise. THe nosie that of dusters. He turned in the direction of the noise and spat out a word.

"Dusters..."

He held out one hand as the two creatures flew for him. He spoke again.

"Not Today."

As his hand was held out, a peice of boulder nearby began to raise. As the rock was risen he grinned. Not cockily, just grinned. With a flick of the wrist the boulder was split into two and the two rocks flew for the dusters.
In no time at all a bouler peice was on either oppisite side of each duster. He then clenched his fist and the boulders slammed into each other - crushing the dusters. They were finished and the rocks fell to the ground.
With that he turned, hios eyes with a tint of green.
Though, with this storm seeming to slow down he unclipped the hood of his cloak and the peice of cloth fell to the ground. SHowing his full face.

The face of Lucas Fiaerfoxe.

The fox kept his pace as he entered the taverns door, pushing it open he looked at his surroundings. But almost immediately his eyes widened among the sight of Rico Underwood. And since the last time Luke had seen Rick.... the Warden hadn't aged a day since! He blinked, slightly confused and shocked as he walked furthur into the bar - letting the door close behind him.

"What in gods name??" he thought.

The Colonel was too busy looking at the wounded Breech to pay attention to the newcomer. Righty, however, had some attention to spare and it was spared on the cloaked fox. Lefty just stared off and around as he tended to do unless given the order to act. The Tommy Gun, still in his hands, drooped disinterestedly.

"She all right?" McCaffrey asked the two men hauling the wounded Breech in.

"She got stung," the Collie said. "Little'uns, though. She'll make it through."

"Good for her." Means she can keep bein' hunted by undesirables. Good fer her, dumb woman. McCaffrey snorted a bit of laughter as he put a thin cigarillo to his lips. "Hey, barkeep," he called. The barkeep wandered over, but before he could ask what the Colonel wanted McCaffrey reached out and struck a match against the barkeep's cheek. The barkeep yelped as McCaffrey touched the flame to the tip of his cigarillo and puffed. "That'll do, barkeep." McCaffrey smiled and leaned against the bar, puffing away as Breech was laid across a table. McCaffrey spit on the ground before walked toward the table Breech lay across.

"Can't figger how a dame who'd do somethin' that stupid'd be alive long enough to earn the bounty she has on her head." he said, smiling. "If I felt like it, I could make you the easiest catch seen in years with you bein' all drugged up like that. Good thing for ya I don't enjoy bounty huntin' much."

There was a *click* and suddenly the colonel found a switchblade to his neck.

"And if... I wanted to I could... make a good soup out... of you right here..." Breech mumbled; but she put away the knife quickly, "Is... none of your business... why I'm hunted..."

Still panting, she added, "I feel... awful..."

A small smirk crossed the coon's face, reminisant of amusment, enevitably Breech could live up to her bounty no matter what her condition.

"Ay" The colly nodded, feeling the felines ear for signs of over heating "That's duster poisen for ya', fast working stuff, but it'll clear in a few hours. Just as long as ya keep an eye out for a feaver... Ahh ya feel fine, Hay! Barkeep, hows aboud a wee nipper for the Lady here? take the edge off the wounds."

Rayne shook his head, taking another swig from the tumbler and muttering "She's al'ready been sick once from drinking"

"I was not sick... from drinking!" Breech insisted, trying to push the collie away, "I was sick from... something else."

"What, then?" asked Rayne.

"None of your... business," Breech insisted, sitting up.

The raccoon razed an eyebrow of intrest, that same gaze that had first off nerved breech once again tugging on that alarm bell. But then, unexpectly, Rayne simply nodded and terned back to his drink, clearly knowing his place when it came to other people's buisness.

Lucas shrugged his questions for Rico to ask. But he had so many to ask as well. Well, not that many but still.... he shook his head as he turned to the bartender. "A drink. Strong." he muttered as the tender nodded as he went off to give the fox a drink. He soon returned with one and the red fox took a sip before turning to the racoon. "World is getting worse everyday." he thought aloud as he took another sip. Luke sighed as he rubbed his amulet with his free hand. "Heh...Wonder how this day will end." he thought to himself. The day had been quite the unusal one with that one figure in the room with him. One he hadn't seen in ages. But if Rick wanted to talk he'd come to him. He knew how the Warden worked.

Indeed. A strange day already.

Rico was a photo negative of the calm, laid back fox that had walked in. His whole form looked tense, nervous, and angry. He slammed a paw against the door jam and walked back inside mutter a curse at his own cowardice.

He stopped by the two, feeling eyes on him. Turning his head to glare at Lucas, "You staring for a reason or... Oh, another one. Lemme guess, you got a name I'm gonna recognize but not remember."

Luke blinked he didn't remember him at first glance. Though of course Luke himslef looked Ricks age. Early Twenties so Luke thought it would be logical. He nodded and looked to Rick.

"It's me, Lucas." he said as he hoped he'd remember.