Merrye Olde Kurt

This picks up Kurt Wright's game from Kurtesy Call: Kurt's Game Continues, and passes the reins to Harry to run it.

--M. J. Young

Wait, what? I actually volunteered for this? Oh bugger...

Alright, I should be getting to bed, but here goes...

So that's what being shot in the face tastes like. It tastes... fuzzy? No, not tastes. Feels. Feels fuzzy. And soft. Lots of soft. One kind of soft under you, another kind of soft over you, and a third kind of soft all over your face. Your ears are ringing, or perhaps buzzing, a dull, rhythmic, thrumming sound that seems stronger every time another wave of fuzzy passes over your face. As you float toward the surface of the lake that some call consciousness, the softness under you take on an overtone of prickly. The softness over you adopts an aura of warmth. The softness on your face emits the distinctive scent of fur, and that is when you become aware that you have a body. A body that is laying on a thick layer of something squishy, under the noonday sun, limp as a sack full of nothing.

I keep my eyes closed at first, to take in smells, feelings, and sounds around me. I try not to get up yet, confused about the squishy ground. Once I've taken all of these senses in a bit more, I open my eyes to see what's around.

Also, I try and relax to feel where all of my items' "tug" is.

What's around is a rather large cat. Peering at you intently, he welcomes you back to life with the kind of meow that says both 'oh hi there' and 'why aren't you feeding me yet?' Beyond him is trees and a very clear sky. Aside from your fuzzy friend, the air here smells remarkably clean, crisp. The scent of grass and trees are unusually strong.

You have some of your things on you, and only one vector. It leads... off to your left on a somewhat oblique angle. Past the cat. The terrain is about what you would expect from your initial view: trees. Deciduous trees, if it makes a difference to you, with the occasional copse of conifers here and there.

I take this opportunity to pet Harry (the cat). It had been a while since I'd had time to do that, and I'm relieved that he's okay.

I talk softly to him. "Yeah, I agree. Let's go find something to eat. First, though, we have to go and get my stuff again." I take my things, and start my hike to the vector. "I wander where we are this time." I beckon for Harry to follow me.

When you get up, he rubs between your ankles and then scampers off ahead of you. He pauses frequently to sniff things, climb the occasional tree, and so forth, but for the most part he seems to always find his way back, or you find him waiting for you at the next clearing. Whenever he gets more than a handful of yards away a vector becomes apparent for him, and within a few minutes you find him again.

By the time you arrive, Harry is perched on top of your backpack, feasting on what appears to be a swallow, tail a-swishing as he goes. He looks up at you as you reach your pile of stuff, but seems disinclined to share. "Mrowwr..." and back to eating.

About my equipment... MJ hit almost everything. There was also one shotgun and one sniper rifle in the back of the car, which I took from Zigesfeld's car in my previous world.

When I run accross my things, I just tell Harry, "Get out of the way, I don't want your bird." If he doesn't move, I just pull my stuff out from under him.

"Michael mentioned that magic wasn't working on the world he was in. I remember how difficult it was to wittle on that island with him, so that might mean that other things weren't user-friendly, too."

I take out one of my berettas and try to run through flipping the safety off, on, disengaging the clip, and reinserting it as fast as I can. Do I feel like this is more difficult than normal?

I then get into my fisticuffs position, which Di Vars helped me with. I try to make some movements in practice. Do I feel lighter/heavier or more ragged/smoothe in my motions?

After these tests, I grab my things and head in the same direction I've been travelling this entire time. I beckon for Harry to come with me once more, and just keep walking until it starts getting dark. When it starts to get dark, I keep my eyes open for a clearing like we've been seeing, to make camp at.

"I wander where we are this time."

There was also one shotgun and one sniper rifle in the back of the car, which I took from Zigesfeld's car in my previous world.

--M. J. Young

Most shotguns have a six-round capacity. Since his came from a world where he was involved in military-level goings-on, I am inclined to define his shotgun as a Remington 870, a fairly standard 12-gauge law enforcement shotgun, which features a 6-round tube. And his sniper rifle... I am inclined to define it as a Dragunov, which has a 10-round box magazine. If either of you disagree, please let me know.

Drawing the gun doesn't go so well. It gets stuck on the holster on the draw, the safety sticks mid-way, the clip won't release with the safety jammed, and you pinch your thumb a little putting it back. At least the safety un-sticks after that. If you were in a quick-draw contest you would be riddled with bullets by now.

Thankfully your body seems to be responding better. You are able to drop into your fighting stance and snap off a few punches, bob-and-weave a little. You feel about average, perhaps a little sluggish, but no more than you would expect for working out after just waking up. All in all, normal fighting form.

Now we have an interesting situation. How are you planning on carrying all of this stuff? You have your backpack, which contains clothes, ammo, and so forth. Then you have a SCUBA tank weighs a good 20 pounds and is fairly bulky. You also have a sniper rifle system in its case, along with various other bits. Are you planning to try to just stuff everything into your backpack and hope for the best? Are you wearing any of this stuff in slings or holsters? Are you abandoning any of it right here?

Darn, you caught me.

The tuxedo has been mentioned as having a holster for a 9mm inside it before, which I've fit the beretta inside before. The other two, I'll put in my backpack along with the wetsuit from the SCUBA gear. This is minus the actual tank and fins, which I'll leave behind.

After that, I haul the backpack on my back while carrying the shotgun in one hand and the rifle case in the other.

Then, I'll proceed with the before-mentioned action.

Ok, you pack up and move out.

You find a clearing a bit before dark. It is a flat patch of grass with three large rocks on one side, surrounded by trees. Once you are in the middle, you can see that there is a faint path leading in and out. Not a proper footpath, mind you more like just a spot on either side where the shrubbery isn't. There is some tree cover here, but mostly it's just a hole in the woodland canopy.

Which leads me to the question of, with no tent, no sleeping bag, no fire-making supplies, and no means of cutting wood... what exactly are you making camp out of? Or by 'camp' do you mean 'sleeping under a tree'?

I meant to just use my backpack as a pillow and crash for the night. I let Harry cuddle in close for warmth?

How cold is it?

If it gets to a point where it's too cold, I pull out my extra clothes and use them as makeshift blankets. If this is actually a skill, I've done so before on several occasions when I've been at friends' places without extra blankets.

It's a bit chilly, but once you have a cat curled up on you - he decides the middle of your back looks comfy - it's not that bad.

Morning comes without incident, and once you can see the sunrise it's easier to get a sense of direction. You were headed vaguely southeastward.

I wait until Harry wakes up, and then course-correct to head eastward instead. Considering Harry was capable of finding his own food yesterday, he should probably be fine today as well; however, I will need some soon. I pull out my pistol and keep an eye out for wildlife in the area while we keep walking.

Harry wakes up when you begin to stir. By wakes up, I mean he yawns, stretches, and peers at you for a few seconds. When he realizes you're serious about this whole consciousness thing, he hops down and begins grooming himself while you collect your things.

About a half hour after you get up, you begin to hear the sound of water. A fairly strong sound of water, actually, and in the general direction you were headed anyway.

About mid-morning, you hear something else (the sound of water has been getting stronger as you've gone along). The new sound is sort of... rustling, snuffling, scratching. It doesn't sound very big, but it's off in the bushes, over there by where the water sounds to be.

I proceed toward the bushes, but at a slower pace. I keep an eye on the ground, to make sure I don't step on any dry leaves or sticks. I pace slowly to the rustling noises, keeping an ear out to see if they change.

The noises don't change. You successfully avoid some dried twigs, but this early in the season there are no fallen leaves.

Poking your head out from behind a tree, you see what appears to be a smallish black ball, or perhaps a rock covered in fur, busily engaging a (also smallish) downed log. Every time it rolls the log back, you can see a pile of grub worms underneath, which appears to be its target.

Only when the thing pokes its head up to sniff the air, giving you a distinctly round-eared profile and a look at the shape of the thing, do you realize what you've got here. At least he's just a small one, right?

(If you can't see the image... it's a black bear cub. You just sneaked up on a black bear cub.)

Where there's a cub, there's a momma bear.

I stop sneaking with this bear, and make a move to just pass by it casually to reach the water on the other side. I tell Harry, "Don't bother it. Let's just get some water."

Do you move away from the bear at all, or just walk on by like he's not even there?

I feel like making a mistake, so I walk by like he isn't there. If he pays attention to me, then I smile and nod to him, as if he understands, and continue to walk on.

You make it to the water's edge, but the bear hops away from you when you do. Only once you actually stoop to get some water does he start to come back. And by come back I mean he starts sniffing your backpack. You don't have any food in there, do you? Apparently he thinks you smell tasty, as he starts pawing at your backpack.

Nope, no food inside of the backpack.

Do I actually get the impression that he finds me tastey or was that a joke?

Where is Harry?

That was mostly a joke. Whenever my cats start licking or nibbling, well, it must be because you have a flavor.

Mind you, you do still have a bear cub gnawing on your backpack. That part I meant. After all, he doesn't know its not food, yet.

Harry had the good sense to go very far around the bear, and you can sort of see his ears sticking out from under a shrubbery a little ways upstream from you, and occasionally the rest of his face when he pokes his nose out for a drink.

Okay, cool about not being food.

I grab my back pack, and lift it. "Hey, this isn't yours. And it's not food, either. Go find your mother."

If the bear continues to stay, I won't be able to help myself, and I'll reach down to him. With a soft voice, I'll say, "Come here. It's okay, I won't hurt you." Then, when he's close, I'll attempt to pet him softly on the head.

When you pull away he backs off, and when you reach for him he backs off some more.

That's when you spot another pair of eyes watching you from the hedges behind him, and they don't look happy.

On the plus side, baby bear seems to have followed your advice. Sort of.

I notice the pair of eyes; however, I don't act immediately on that. I continue to move slowly, and pull out the shotgun as if there's nothing foreign about it.

Then, I hold it and back away in Harry's direction, one hand in the air, in a suppliant manner. "I don't want to hurt you, and you don't need to hurt me either. Don't make me kill you."

This is assuming they're mama-bear eyes.

Oh yeah, and mama bear doesn't stay just eyes for very long. There's rather a lot of mama bear, and rather a lot of mama bear coming straight at you, with a 'get away from my cub' roar. She doesn't really know what a shotgun is, so she doesn't seem impressed by you drawing it, and bears don't show submission in quite the same ways that people do.

However, you do have a loaded shotgun in your hand. You have time for about one shot before she gets within maul-your-face-off range.

Harry, meanwhile, is hiding somewhere, presumably nearby. You don't see exactly where, but then, you've got rather a lot of mama bear to put some shotgun in if you expect to have time to look for him later.

I pull up the shotgun and aim for the head; however, I stop myself from shooting. The bear is following natural instinct.

I attempt instead to leap out of the way of the bear when it reaches me. If I may, I'd like to use my fighting style-fisticuffs for this. While it's different in the fact that I'm fighting a bear, I did initially describe the style as dodging attacks and waiting for an opening.

And when the bear closes in, I will be in melee combat with it, right?

If the style is weapon-adverse and you're still holding the shotgun while you're "in melee", you may have a problem. (Well, another problem.)

Nonetheless, bonuses or negs, the attempt is made.

It appears that it has fallen to me to pick up the game, so let's see what happens. Harry has not provided me with any stats on his creatures, nor any rolls for the situation, and the last time I had a player character attempt to engage a bear in hand-to-hand combat it was over pretty quickly. But that was then, this is now.

Your martial arts style is all about fighting and defending with your hands; your hands are currently holding an object. You fire the gun, stand there holding it, drop it and attempt to defend yourself with your hands, or attempt to flee. There might be other options, but those are the ones that are immediately obvious.

--M. J. Young

I'll drop it and attempt to defend myself with my hands.

Does this count as a new use?

It appears that it has fallen to me to pick up the game, so let's see what happens. Harry has not provided me with any stats on his creatures, nor any rolls for the situation,

Actually, there are two GE rolls behind the screens here, with some discussion of Harry's interpretation of them over a short series of posts which begin here. Not that I would consider you bound by those rolls or interpretations, of course.

I do consider myself bound by the rolls, although not necessarily by the interpretations. In particular, I think that intending to have the bear miss is a bit difficult--the bear ought to get an attack roll. But the 5 GE roll does have some interesting merit.

I am concerned about the fact that the rescue party is said to be lead, because I don't use miniatures in my games....

Thanks much.

You toss the gun aside and easily fall into your stance, ready to attack and defend.

Suddenly an arrow appears in the bear's shoulder, on the side toward the stream, and it howls and turns toward it. Before it can howl, another arrow catches its flank, and as it raises its head another passes within inches of where the head was, another drops into its foreleg, and one catches its throat, and it falls, crashing into the water.

All before you could decide whether to attempt to punch it.

The baby bear scurries away, frightened, but stays within view of the mother.

A tall slender man wearing leather and green emerges from the wood accompanied by three others similarly clad, all carrying bows, but only the leader has his in hand.

"Hail and well met," he says in an English accent that is almost incomprehensible to you. "It is good fortune we happed along, for you and for us, if you'll permit us the meat of this fine kill."

--M. J. Young

I pause for a moment, digesting what just happened. I pick up my shotgun, and raise my hand to him.

"Hail, well met." I lower my hand and nod. "Fortune favors me indeed. The kill is yours, so the meat is as well. That was a fine shot, good sir. My name is Kurt." I do a small bow. "May I inquire as to yours?"

I call Harry over to me while the man has time to reply.

"I'm Robin," the lead says, stowing his bow and reaching out a hand to shake. "This is John, and that's Peter. We don't usually hunt bear; it's a bit dangerous. But you seemed to be in trouble, and now that we've brought it down it would be a shame to waste meat or pelt. John, how should we get this creature back to camp?"

John seems to be a very large and muscular man, but he seems to be pondering the problem of how to move the bear.

"If we'd a cart, that would do the trick; maybe I can drag it on a litter."

The baby bear is sniffing at the fallen mother.

--M. J. Young

After I shake Robin's hand, I offer it to John and Peter. To each of them, I repeat, "Well met."

I look at the bear and feel sorry for the cub, but for the time being, I address Robin further. "You're a great shot indeed, Robin. Fortune has brought us together, and I'd be more than willing to help drag the bear back to your camp, if you'd allow it for one night."

I look to the bear again, and can't help but get concerned. Has Harry come to me yet?

Harry is still avoiding the bear cub, trying to circle in such a fashion that he can get near you without getting near it.

John and Peter shake hands as Robin says, "You're welcome to such hospitality as we have, but it's hardly suitable to a foreign nobleman. Where are you from, where are you bound, and what brings you to Nottinghamshire?"

--M. J. Young

"Actually, I'm lost in the woods. I'm no nobleman, just a travelling scribe, really. I'd much appreciate any hospitality. I feel sorry for the young cub."

I attempt to approach the bear, hand outstretched. I hold onto one of my 9mm pistols and just hum calmly to the bear while I approach.

"Your land must be wealthy indeed, if its tradesmen can afford such finery as you display; but our hospitality is yours, lost traveling scribe Kurt."

The baby bear approaches tentatively, but then nuzzles your hand.

"You seem to have made a friend," Peter says.

--M. J. Young