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[1]1[1]

JackOman crouched, in his rough dull coloured survival-travel gear and, with compact firmly held to his back, raised his BARifle (bolt-action rifle). He did not shoot the powerful weapon but noted how a dozen mutamuties, with variations of distortion, were attacking the convoy of tracktrucks. Machineguns rattled away, mutamuties hurled pyrokinetic fireballs or telekinetically hurled spears though most had either no such psyker powers or only limited ones. He shifted the gun and targeted the tracktrucks because it was they who were the culprits failing to pay centuries old agreed upon tributes to go through mutamutie territories.

One single shot took out a radio reception aerial. A second smashed a light despite its armour glass protection. A third rang off a heavy armoured glass windshield. This was all aimed at the lead vehicle and getting the point, at last, the convoy came to a halt.

The convoyers were not happy but JackOman had his reputation as himself and in the background could be seen some of his assorted, very tough, people that were in that case holographic illusions. He could summon up 13 real ones, choosing their shapeforms to an extent but now he just needed to bluff the greedy fools.

He spoke to the tough looking leader who he sensed not to trust. “You owe a tribute of tradegood value of 100 goldworth along with compensation of another 50 goldworth.”

They were in a large, hard bare, cabin that was part office of the chief convoyer and his two assistants along with a young woman likely to be a 'companion' by the way she was dressed. She looked bored as she did something to her nails. In his 'home territory' the fools were clearly becoming over confident real quick.

His name was Cragsmand and he drew himself up though he only came up to JackOman's shoulders. “Cragsmand pays no tribute to no stinking subhuman mutamuties.”

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]2[2]

The fool gave what he thought was a subtle hand signal for his two cronies to shoot JackOman but with a blaze of silenced gunfire both he and the 'companion' killed all three men. As JillOman she was one of his three secondary followers, as deadly as he was. At times she would be at the prime position, of the pyramid13 just as he was then and there.

Fighting through the eight vehicles was unpleasant, even with mutamutie warriors assisting. The big, bulky, basic and tough enduring tracktrucks had been smuggling slaves, forbidden tech, restricted superdrugs, basic pipeguns and stolen luxuries across the Abandda Desert from one criminal hole, of a settlement, to another.

Slaves were freed, the mutamuties happily joining their own kind who would make sure they got to their home territories. Humans, ghouls, ghants and animans would be taken to the nearest Abandda Republican settlement being the fortified dometown of Kakacrowl. Except that some of the healthiest would help guard the tracktrucks as JackOman and his people drove them.

The illegal convoyers, along with some slavers and criminals on the run from the law, were mostly dead and in preservation bodybags. Others were unhappily crammed into slaver cages. Except that one man was taken to one side to be questioned by JackOman and JillOman for there was 'something about him' that just did not gel on a subtle level. That is the mortal man was very skilled, very well trained and much experienced but the FamilyOman were no mere mortals.

Even as they met mutamuties were being given goods from the tracktrucks that would serve their seminomadic, or nomadic, lifestyles. Still, a few items like leather jackets were soon being worn by those with a more 'fitting' humanoid shape to use them.

The man frowned. “By the way you are looking at me, may as well get to the point. I am a Rangemarshal seeking a monstrous criminal who escaped from the ultra security prison of Fallenfates. It was about to be extreme executed using high explosives in a heavily armoured confinement cell when an outsider assisted it to escape."

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]1.3[3]

JillOman smiled pleasantly. “Nice story but what is the truth about you?”

The man sighed. “I was the outsider who helped Raszkarl to escape because it was innocent. I am now a former Rangemarshal being hunted myself by my former comrades. They are highly corrupt as is much else about the Abandda Republic. There are whispers that is had fallen to doppelganger infiltrating and the darkside psyker influences of vampires who manipulate the doppelgangers.”

JackOman smiled amusedly. “Another fine story and now the real truth about yourself.”

The man sighed. “I am Raszkarl but I am innocent! There are private bounty hunters, at least one deathsquad and a team of my former comrades after. I doubt you would believe me.”

JillOman smiled more richly. “One of the reasons that we, of the FamilyOman, were sent here was to rescue you and take you to Centropolis using very special means. We need you, as do those who contracted us in a way fitting our protocols, as much as we need you. It was a CSIA (Centralian Security Intelligence Agency) team that helped you escape. We rescued your family, along with a few others, from your village including animals and plants.”

Raszkarl frowned softly. “You must need me very much to do all of that!”

JackOman shook his head. “You killed the heinous President of the Abandda Republic who was, in reality, a powerful Vampirelord. We would have helped you anyway for, as you probably know, vampires are dependent on their bloodlinks between each other but in a very hierarchical fashion. Subvampires at the bottom then, above them, semivampires and finally true vampires. Out from the hierarchies, of the Vampireclans, demivampires. Then there are those poor thralls and treacherous familiars. It is good that Raszkarl was killed for he was very cunning and highly empowered vampirewise with a surprising charisma to influence mortals with. What would you say about that?”

The man shrugged.

JillOman sighed heavily. “We are not mortals and we have exotic abilities.” She drew out a large crossbowpistol and shot him in the chest with it. He cried out and began to lose his outer shape. “Raszkarl did not manage to kill you, though he was an impressive slayer. Instead you managed to convince people, SanbacrataVao, that he was you and you were he.”

More special vampire slayer bolts hit the creature and he died also as bright sunlight was let into the room to strike him as a beam. He burned away screaming and then was gone.

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]2.1[4]

The convoy, of eight big diesel-electric tracktrucks crossed the Wetdeepwet River by using an ancient structure shaped like a great flattened finger. As they followed their side, of the four lane highway, they passed statue of dancing fat men wearing overalls, buttonshirts and big slip on boots. Perhaps they represented some kind of gods but who knew with the AncientOnes.

JillOman spoke to JackOman using 2way radio for they were driving different tracktrucks. Hanging in front of JillOman, though to one side, was a pair of big white, fluffy, dice. “I wonder if the AncientOnes were consuming some kind of hallucinogenic drug when they created structures like this one.”

JackOman laughed before changing subjects. “SanbacrataVao's death was not quite 'right'. Also he was too easily detected and destroyed by us. Could it be related with those whisper stories of the Vampirelords developing short lived, reduced powered, livingdead clones of themselves. What with so many whisper stories going around, I only gave them enough credence to put some details into my master journal.”

JillOman: “They would need a very powerful, like darkside, form of exotic energies to carry out such a very foolish program. With so many power artefacts being found on this world that might be possible but most of them are too weak to successful be used that way.”

JackOman: “We will need to do some consulting when we get to Centropolis.”

Across the scrubby, tree grove dotted, semiarid desert there moved a large number of large ridable kangaroos or saddleroos. It took nerve, and great skill plus experience, to truly ride such a creature successfully. The saddleroos did not have saddles or any people. Yet there was something 'oddly odd' about them in the oddest way.

JillOman: “If that was a successful vampireclone then what about the real SanbacrataVao?”

That was not a pleasant thought. As the vehicles left, the great finger bridge, high above there was a contrail amongst the white fluffy clouds there. Most likely it was from a supersonic jetplane of the Skylulords who cared little of the people far below them.

It was about then that they saw, in the distance, dark smoke climbing up the direction where the dometown of Kakacrowl was situated. They sped up, at least as much as they could do safely on a hole pitted dirty highway badly in need of seeing too.

As they got closer it was clear that a large area of the dometown was burning and that the towndome had a fairly big hole in it. It had been a very brutal kind of attack or had it been?

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]2.2[5]

Mayor Fred Strongflato, of Kakacrowl, spoke with clearly mixed feelings. “That jet that flew way overhead must have dropped one of its engines and it crashed through the dome, crashed through a house and crushed to death a rather eccentric young man who wrote poetry about a weird rabbit that he kept meeting in his dreams.”

Fred: “It crashed through the floor and then into what appears to have been a long hidden basement chamber. What ever it struck caused a ball of flame to shoot up through the holes, in the building, before it crashed down upon another large house. Ironically it caused no fire in the first house. Also, ironically, it then struck my house and burned it to the ground.”

JackOman frowned. “I am sorry that you lost your home!”

Fred: “So am I especially as I have lost all of my ElvisPelvis long playing vinyl records. I had to import them all the way from Easttropolis where they have the famously famous ElvisPelvis Museum.”

JillOman: “Never heard of it!”

Fred sighed. “Well, if that is the case, my sorrows go with you for what a terrible dreary life you must live with out knowing about ElvisPelvis.”

JillOman snorted. “I didn't say that I didn't know him, just the museum; I met ElvisPelvis when he was still alive. I went to his last concert, before he vanished, that was in SouthEasttropolis. It is too bad that the young man died.”

The mayor frowned: “Nnnaaa, he was a weirdo who used to annoy me by sending me copies of his poetry. He would go on about the poor homeless, in our wonderful town, the stupid bleeding heart. I would have the ugly bums all fed to direwolves.”

JillOman hit him so quickly that to mortals her movement was invisible. Then she cried out in mock shock as she caught him and lowered the subconscious man to the ground.

Sheriff Brad O’Brien strolled up to the scene with his thumbs in his belt and a pair of large, powerful, revolver pistols holstered at both hips. “What happened to that fool?”

JillOman shrugged in apparent puzzlement. “He just fell over. We were discussing the young man who died in the house when the jet engine fell on him. A shame that!”

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]2.3[6]

The sheriff scowled. “My guess is the mayor said stupid words and you may have helped him fall down. Good on you! I liked that young man despite his terrible poetry and stories of that weird white rabbit with the vacuous blood red eyes and long translucent fangs. Anyway I think you would want to see what is down in the long lost basement chamber that the fallen engine struck.”

'White rabbit with red eyes and long translucent fangs.' Both JackOman and JillOman found themselves thinking of the vampiric ability to intrude, or even manifest, dreams in the minds of mortals though the results were always a bit iffy as the victim's subconscious was involved. The talk of vacuous blood red eyes, and long translucent fangs, fitted well with any vampire exposed in its real form.

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]3.1[7]

As they stood close to the hole, in the floor of the official basement floor, the object there both surprised and concerned the two members of the FamilyOman. It was an ancient power artefact of a kind known as artispheres as created by the AncientOnes.

JackOman spoke of such devices. “Unlike the majority of such power artefacts, the ways to use artispheres are very subtle and there are likely to be complications if any, even minor, mistakes are made. It has been seen on ancient walls, of ancient buildings, of ancient settlements, in ancient writings, that the ancient name of the ancient artispheres is the ancient 13artispheres1313 but that the reason for this was lost back in ancient times.”

JillOman sighed. “Maybe your brain is 'ancient'”.

JackOman gave her a quick grin.

It looked quite dull and undramatic unlike so many of such mechanisms. It was an offwhite perfect sphere that floated just above the floor but not like a bobbing balloon for it was as if it was fixed solidly in air.

They took 3DAV (3Daudiovideo) and other records. There was some access left to a large area of the chamber that was in much better condition than in theory it should have been. The artisphere may easily have protected it for like all such artefacts they had a kind of quasiintelligence to them and were, in their way, both very smart and canny.

Over 100 years ago a man named Andre Smoosh had busied himself researching the artisphere in that basement or so was written in an untidy stack of poduleather bound journals. They were big, thick and heavy but every page was crowed with writing, equations, diagrams, sketches and more. Andre Smoosh had the help of his daughter, Ashie Smoosh, and the pair had done different kinds of taboo things together in that chamber including sexual ones but only in an attempt to better understand various forms of cult magic that might get them 'access' to the artisphere. Or so was the father's excuse.

The daughter left abruptly, after becoming pregnant and he demanding she get an abortion. It was quickly apparent that he was a rather darkwise man with some horrible appetites, hence the exploitation of his daughter. He never did see her again but there was not even a hint of sadness, or related emotions, in his further writings.

Yet somebody, or something, had visited him there for his skeletal remains were found beneath a workbench as if he was either trying to hide there or to retreat there. Either way he had failed to get away and had died. Psychic impressions were faded but there was strong enough indications to show that he had died horribly.

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]3.2[8]

With the help of some summoned help, that appeared in the shapeforms of 13 floating 10 limbed decicrons with great strength, and endurance, almost equal to their own they opened up the collapsed area of the chamber. Then they began to dematerialise items, sending them to the BaseOman of a transdimensional wonder realm of realms. The the last to 'go' were the decicrons that had been summoned.

The chamber itself, once stripped, exposed new secrets. Ancient symbolica carved hard into walls, ceiling and the floor were of the Ancient Romanards. The Romanards had managed to conquer much of the supercontinent, of Centralia, but had failed to sustain their hold just as many others did both before and after them. Yet the Romanards did not actually act as if their Centralian Colonies would last, even having written records of planning for a great exodus taking many new citizens with them but no slaves; slaves were freed as some kind of gesture to their gods and goddesses. So why had the Romanards spent so many resources, including lives, taking over about a fifth of the truly massive continent just to leave and if they had left with something they felt was special, just what had it been?

JackOman studied the symbolica. “This small chamber was of big importance to the Romanards. They found the artisphere here and studied it carefully or at least the elite Studinards Caste did being of High Imperial Class. Look at this symbol set, it is not familiar to me.”

She went closer to him. “They could not manage to carefully remove the artisphere with them and take it with them to Romanatropolis using Romanard technomagic.”

Romanatropolis was not on-in Centralia but was on another supercontinent being EuropaAsia. It was on the other side of the vast MistyOcean which was often not just 'misty' but down right 'foggy' in nature sometimes in some places. The Romanards had travelled in a great, powerful, well protected convoy of superships first from the subcontinent of Romardia and then back again. Despite all of their refined tech, technomagic and great experience as ocean travellers, a fair few of them had been killed going either way. That had been thanks to the kraken, the supership pirates, the tentaculaurs, Nazsti supersubmarines along with other threats including that of seemingly inexplicable vanishings in very thick, enfolding, fog.

JillOman went on. “They departed from the chamber, centuries before Smoosh found it of course, taking all but the artisphere with them and the symbolica with no attempt to wipe it out. The date, over there, indicates that soon after they left the great exodus back to Romardia began. Sa what did they learn, if anything, of importance from this artisphere?”

The artisphere glowed briefly, for a moment, and then a young man appeared in his pyjamas. At once they knew the materialised individual was the supposedly dead Danny Darkover. He spoke from where he lay. “I am not returned from the dead for I never truly died. As for that damned vampiric rabbit entity, it wanted me dead for a very bad reason but not in any normal manner.”

Edited by Maharg67
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[1]3.3[9]

He adjusted his thick lensed glasses, sat himself up on the floor, and spoke. “Romanards learned valuable information about the return of Chaoticus, Ordercos, Narcosces, Necrocis and Debalancecas. The AncientOnes were truly the AncientisiOnes who had the greatest knowledge, power and not so much wisdom. They became over confident with their knowledge and skills. They interfered with a handful of supreme artefacts left by the AraAncients who had been greatly more powerful, knowledgeable, advanced and skilled than the Ancientisi but also far wiser.”

“After a war of gods, livinggods and other amazing entities, the Ancientara locked away Chaoticus, Ordercos, Narcosces, Necrocis and Debalancecas safely in ancient LightsessVaults. The Ancientara, including the AraAncients, had departed from this world meaning to return but 'something' stopped them from doing so. I do not know why they departed in the first place but they did only leave behind 13 great complexes all of them heavily hidden and secured. So how did the Ancientisi get access to Ancientara artefacts in order to try to exploit them? None of this is clear to me but somehow it is linked with the artispheres.”

JackOman frowned softly. “How will be deal with this artisphere if it does not want to move?”

The mentioned device dematerialised, with a sparkling shimmer, and rematerialised as linked to a necklace around Danny Darkover. There it was much smaller and still very plain but both JillOman and JackOman knew more subtle influences were also helping to hide it.

Edited by Maharg67
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