The Prologue (1941) - Part I

[Neull//]

Once Max wakes up he grins

“Welcome to the jungle again, stupid Max”

Survival check for today’s journey  (take 10):  17
Spot check for today's journey (take 10): 15

[Flay Crimsonwind]

Eisen wakes, quickly dresses, and for a second thinks of taking out a sharpener, a knife, and some water for a shave, but decides against it. His beard never grew quickly after all, and they'd be in a town soon enough... apparently. He does take time to comb back his hair, before getting up, unpacking his tent, and joining in conversation with the others, just as they were going over the route with Richard. He stays quiet; his place wasn't in getting through the jungle; really, he'd probably served his most use with the Nazi's at port. Listening attentively, especially at the mention of foot powder and socks (reminiscent of France, a long while back, camping in the wet countryside), he simply waits to be addressed, if at all. When noone says anything, he merely gives a broadly aimed "Good morning" to the group, looking to see if he can assist in any way, and against his better judgment, takes a cup of the coffee.

While on the hike, Eisen keeps an ear out for any and all odd noises (though a lot is odd to him...), and also (observing Max's attentive action) aids Max's spot checks by looking where Max can't, covering blind spots.
Listen Check: 22

[Tarotdragoon]

A series of clicks and then a zip alerts the company to Russo's disheveled emergence, he combs his hair hastily and begins to remove everything from inside the tent and put the thing away, being careful to make sure his cup is not inside.

[jacemachine]

“Richard, Pingo will give you a Wolf Whistle if he needs to get your attention.” Pingo demonstrates his ability to whistle in perfect pitch.

He gestures to Bones and gives him another whistle, this one like two whippoorwill calls back to back.

“What’s that for?” Bones asks.

Pingo gives the clawing motion, or “Monster Hands” that locally is associated with the mythical Grandfather. He smiles broadly.

“Good grief.” Bones mutters. “Anyway, the only thing we will run into out in the forest itself are animals. We shouldn’t need to worry about Nazis. Until then, keep your ears open. If you hear the sound of an automobile or truck, let the group know. We may need to get of the road."

The menu of the morning is rations (take note in you inventory, unless you aren't having any breakfast) and the group eats while standing around what is left of the fire. The coffee was bitter, but the caffeine helped perk some party members up.

Soon the group got underway, Pingo stayed near the front with Richard. Max hung back near Bones who traveled with the main group.

You took the road for the first leg, and the group made excellent time thanks to Richard’s Trailblazing ability, the leg first leg of the day’s journey was along the rutted and winding muddy road. Richard drove a hard pace, and the group managed to cover an amazing 19 miles in just around 4 hours. The group kept close, each man responsible for his own mule.

During the time along the muddy road, Max and Bones talked about Orino Perro, and the good times they had drinking with the chief’s son, Muta. His mother cooked some of the best river fish they had ever eaten. Bones remembers eaten at least 5 ears of corn that night.

"That’s the night you stole my hat." Bones grimaces. "We were playing poker, and Muta convinced the barkeeper to serve the villages really strong really nasty jungle moonshine… I don’t remember a thing after that. Do you Max?”

From there they entered the forest by crossing a muddy field, some sort of aborted that ran adjacent to the muddy road. Richard had found a small winding trail that took a more northerly path. It seemed an old hunting trail.

[Nanshork]

Richard enjoys the company of Pingo.  There are no annoying questions or unimportant small talk.  Pingo seems to understand the jungle almost better than Richard himself, and so he respects him. 

Richard occasionally checks the map and thinks to himself, then heads off again.  He's always had a knack for finding shortcuts and getting people where they need to go, he served as a jungle guide in the depths of Africa.

He tunes out the chatter behind him, keeping his attention focused on getting where they need to go and being on the lookout for danger.

[BowenSilverclaw]

"So after we reach Santa Boca, how long will it take us to get to whatever it is we're looking for? Bones? Doc? Either of you have an idea?" John inquires, looking back for a second or two, as he cuts away low branches and follows Richard and Pingo.

[j0lt]

"Well, I'm not exactly sure, seeing as how nobody's ever seen or heard about it since Albert Dunning went there and disappeared.  Perhaps with both the map and letters in our possession, as well as some help from our guide here, we have a chance to get there."

Loder picks his way through the underbrush, following the others closely.  His machete still looks brand new.

[jacemachine]

The drizzle and trees partially obscured the sun, but it was still disgustingly hot. Shirts soaked through with rain-mixed sweat; hair clinging damply to foreheads.Those of party wearing their hats kept their faces dry. Other would have to continuallu wipe at their faces with a handkerchief or rag.

Bones traveled carrying his Thompson pointing  muzzle straight up. Over the bore hole of the barrel, a condom has been unraveled and draped over, like miniature rain slicker. He gave  Richard a wink, which of course was met with a stern glare. He and Pingo were too far ahead, but whatever Richard muttered had Pingo laughing and slapping a thigh.

"What?" Bones asked Pingo. Pingo smiled and gave him the gesture of Monster Hands.
Bones shook his head. He cupped his hands "Just because you British are used to running around in jungles with your own personal native-servants doesn't mean you can take mine!!" Richard, who MUST have heard didn't dignify it with any sort of response.

The path was packed dirt, with thick jungle growth on either side. Big-leafed plants, vines, creepers, trees straight out of a Tarzan comic book. It was dark beneath the trees, and difficult to see very far into their midst, but every now and then you could hear things crashing about in the foliage. Birds, maybe, startled by your approach. There was a lot of cawing, and a steady locust-like throbbing underneath it all that could suddenly, for no apparent reason, fall silent.

As night approached, Richard and Pingo selected an area sheltered on one side by a steep boulder. Max and Kestrel got the fire started. Spirits were low thanks to the constant drizzle, but under some heave leafed trees and the boulder, you managed to find a decent spot to camp.

By the time it was set up to everyone's liking, it was dark. The campfire, larger now that the group was so far from the road, and so far away from any random Nazi patrols.

The kid was beat, and went to go rest in his tent before Pingo returned from his second night of hunting, the group now more wary than before.

Paco and Esteban have a second campfire over near the animals. Esteban is playing a harmonica softly, a low mournful tune.

Bones falls in next to the fire, and takes his boots off. He removes his wet socks, and dries his boots near the flames. His socks he hangs from sticks driven into the mud. After awhile he powders up his feet, and leans back to relax to enjoy the fact that they were no longer traveling for the day.

"From Orino Perro Sergeant," Bones says, answering an earlier question posed by Kestrel. "it will take us a day and a half traveling by river to get to this Mission of Dunning's.

"How many days of travel do the letters cover? What are the dates?" Bones inquires.

[j0lt]

Checking the letters again with one boot off and the other halfway undone, Loder responds.  "Um, the first one we have is dated the 17th, and the last one is...  The 21st.  That's four days, but we have no idea how long he continued after that."

[Flay Crimsonwind]

As soon as camp is made, like clockwork, Eisen sets up his tent, his mesh, and begins work on cleaning his guns. He noted the condom-topper that Bones had given his Thompson, but Eisen, carrying his rifle point down where the handle was more accessible to raising from the hip, hadn't bothered, and now cleaning his gun regretted it. "My one misunderstood mistake in this was not taking a hat. The fatigues cap does little for the heat...." Taking note of Bones' sock-racks, he copies like a monkey, doing it the same way, with not a slice of variation of steps. Placing his handgun next to his rifle parts and his cleaning tools, Eisen in an offhand fashion asks "so, did we make any decent bit of time today?" In truth, Eisen was thinking of how he might have preferred to sabotage and assault the nazi's, like he did back home, while the group traveled, but only because, in his present state, he felt useless. It was reflected in the restless and irritated look on his face, eyes focused a little too intensely on cleaning his weapons. Once they were clean, together, and loaded, he wrapped the rifle in the fatigue coat that smelled of clean oils and black powder, and placed the handgun in it's holster, taking out his knuckles almost half-consciously, staring into the fire while his fingers played with them.

[Tarotdragoon]

Russo looked exhausted, there were no sly comments, his smirk had vanished, the dead man's march had obviously driven him much harder than he was used to and he was suffering for it, looking closely one could see the pinched expression and haggard look in his eyes.

The exhaustion was only half of it. He felt useless. Utterly. he trailed behind the rest of the group, batting at leaves half heartedly with his machete or hands, he ha changed into his fatigues supplied by the league but had no hat and so spent most of the time wiping his face with his scarf which became soaked almost immediately. His mule was also very uncooperative, more than once he had needed Paco or Esteban to chivvy the damned thing along when no amount of pulling from him could shift the creature, it had tried to bite him on a number of occasions and he had had to swat it's muzzle away solidly.

All in all this was just not what Russo was used to, he was used to being alone, the ace of the Adriatic up high in the clouds over the med and Adriatic, soaring over Italy and living on his own little island only visiting civilization when he needed fuel for his plane, guns or himself and only when he felt like company from a certain someone. He missed her terribly, she must be worried sick for him it had been almost a week since he had made contact with her and longer since he had seen her...

snuffing out his thoughts forcefully Russo put up his tent with heavy motions placed his baggage inside and copied Bones and Eizen's ritual looking grave.

"we going to start any of archaeology business soon Bones or have I wasted a trip?" he murmured attempting a joke, while he had been walking he had been trying to recall some of his history lessons in mayan civilization and he had realized he had had known little but possibly enough to assist Loader in anything he needed or make his own judgments but he knew next to nothing about the language and could only make guess work at the writing from what he knew from his intense study of Egyptology and the Semitic writings.

"I hope we can get somewhere soon, this jungle is doing nothing for me at all"

[jacemachine]

"We start the 'Archeology stuff' once we find the city. And I have something you may find interesting Doctor Loder. Here" Bones passes Loder a folded page. "Try to keep it dry if you can.

"We did a great job covering ground. Richard IS here for a reason after all I suppose. We managed to double our ground covered, and despite the thick vegetation, we should actually be arriving in Orino Perro by late morning or early afternoon."

Loder reads the letter aloud:

Guatemala
Saturday May 28, 1922

Dear Mother,
We have been in this amazing ruined city now for three days. I had been impressed with the last site we were at a week ago, the small ruins with the stream running through it, now I have a multi-tiered Mayan city, built through a winding ravine at the base of a mountain. Instead of a stream, a river flows forth from a stone serpent’s open mouth.

We have made camp within the crumbling walls of a palace, within the central courtyard. It would seem a fairly defensible position should we have any encounters with jaguar or hostiles. It’s located in an upper crook of the ravine. Outside a Stone Arch. A long crumbling building with many doors sits atop a platform with stairs facing a tall stone pyramid. The southern front corner of the pyramid has crumbled over the years of neglect as the jungle as taken it over.

You have never seen its equal mother. This is why I left home and came to Guatemala. Already my talent with art has been a boon to this expedition. I’ve begun work on a series of map illustrations of the city. It will have to be done in parts because of the sheer size, but I am told that we will be setting up a more or less permanent camp here as we discover and uncover more of the city.

The river winds its way through the center of the city, its path reminiscent of a snake. Which is probably why the ancient people had done the carved stone snake head sticking out of the cliff at the very rear of the city. And speaking of carvings! The cliff walls of the city are carved to depict enormous scenes of warfare and of hunting. Cliff reliefs showing kings or pagan gods standing at least fifty feet to eighty feet tall. Unimaginable skill.

The group is now set to doing our own tasks. I am able to wander around as I please exploring, drawing and making notes in my journal. Finegan is working closely with Macgregor as they are trying to pry open a stone door at the rear of the palace. They think it’s a treasure vault, but I’m not so sure. The expedition’s preacher Father Kurt has taken a great interest with their work, and offers them encouragement and sweetened tea which he makes for everyone. Father Kurt loves it sweet and tells us that this is the way his grandmother made it back home in Alabama when he was growing up as a boy. Everyone has taken a liking to it, and the extra sweetness gives us a much needed pep in our step.

Anyway, I must go. I will write more!

I love you! Your son,
Albert

"One week earlier... " Bones says to himself, trying to do the maths.

[jacemachine]

About this time Pingo steps out of the curtain of jungle surrounding the camp. The foliage so thick he literally stepped into view. There was no gradual, oh, here comes Pingo... And Pingo is carrying this large dead animal by its fur-- an adult boar. Large dangerous looking tusks. Thick wiry black fur. Mud caked hooves.

He nods to the silent group as they peer over Doctor Loder's shoulder to read the letter.

"Niiice." Bones says congratulatory.

Pingo smiles broadly, and walks over the the tent where the Kid was currently resting. He creeps up the last few feet, pokes the snout of the boar towards the front of the tent, then is a sudden rushing motion jams the front of the dead boar into the tent, yelling "AAARARRARRAAAAARRARARAAARARARARARARRAAAAAAAR!"

A shrill scream can be heard come from inside the tent. "El Abuelo! El Abuelo! El Abuelo!"

Chuckling Pingo removes the boar's head, and carries it over to where he is going to prepare it. The first cut with his machete is enough to make most of you turn their heads. It's one thing to eat something, and its another thing to watch how it is prepared sometimes.

After a few moments the Kid crawls warily out of the tent glaring towards Pingo. "That's not funny." His voice sounds a little dazed.

[j0lt]

Loder chuckles at the tongueless man's antics and goes back to studying the map and letters, pointing inane details out to anyone who will listen.

[BowenSilverclaw]

"Say, Bones, Richard. I don't want to but in on your territory, but aside from swatting aside a few branches and keeping an eye on our gear, is there anything else I can do to help?" John asks the men as he watches Doc study the map and letters.

"I kinda feel like I'm not really doin' my part, know what I'm sayin'?" He continues as he, just like Eisen, meticulously inspects and cleans his gear and equipment, having taken note of any useful tricks Bones and Richard have used the past day or so.

[jacemachine]

"Is there anything you can do?" Richard asks bluntly.

"What Dick is failing to put politely, is besides shooting at Nazis can you hunt? Pingo is pretty skilled with bringing home the bacon, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company next time out." Bones pulls a cigarette from his pouch and lights it up. He sucks in the tobacco and holds it just for a moment before exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. "We'll be on the river tomorrow evening after we stock up a bit at Orino Perro but after we reach Machete - er- the former Mission, we'll be back to hunting and eating rations once again.

"Pingo can't take everyone, perhaps different groups on different nights?" Bones suggests. "Also, depending on how things are across the river with the cannibals, we may just want to start eating those rations exclusively. They'll be attracted to the smell of fire and cooking. We don't want to end up the main course."

[BowenSilverclaw]

"Well, I'm pretty decent at remaining undetected by my enemies and my spotting skills are up to par, so I might be able to give Pingo a hand if he's okay with that." John answers as he continues his work.

"Two problems with that though. The first is communication and the second is that the noise of my gun might alert those cannibals or the Nazis." he ponders.

[Tarotdragoon]

"i'll just take a nap or two, brush up on what I can remember from London and sit here cleaning my weapons while the rest of you are out hunting" Russo zips down his now finished tend and puts his large machine guns inside "without about half a tone of wood, metal and oil bearing me I'm sorta a dead weight when it comes to hunting"

[BowenSilverclaw]

"Say, does Pingo have a couple of extra throwing spears?" John asks in a moment of clarity.

"As for the communication issue, in the military we have a couple of hand signals to describe certain actions. With your help, Bones, it shouldn't be too hard to set up something similar for me and Pingo if you and him are okay with that. Waddayasay?"

John seems envigorated by these ideas as he puts his gear in his tent and takes a piece of boar meat.

[jacemachine]

About this time Pingo whistles to Bones to get his attention, then gestures to him. Bones nods, and throws some more wood on the fire.

Long strips of Boars are sliced off, and roasted over the fire on long stakes-- The meat smells delicious and afterward you are surprised to see much less of the boar carcass  left.

The  group rotates the watch for the evening, and those who have been left awake are given the task of continuing cooking-- Greasy meat for future consumption.

Bones and the Kid have wandered off to bed. Both Esteban and Paco are snoring away in their tent. Pingo continues to help with stripping and cooking the boar. He looks at Bowen in response to his query about the spears. He motions to his own chest with a thumb, and holds out 3 fingers. Another stab with his thumb towards his chest.