Menahem - Turn 338

“Hmm! Maybe Dar would be a good name?" ponders Menahem, his chin cupped in hand and a thoughtful forefinger tapping his lips in concentration. "Maybe not. Nice chap, but always out of his face. How about Mallon?"

Menahem is trying to think of the new persona he should adopt should he ever aspire to heroic leadership. “No, not Mallon! He was forever hitting himself and falling out of tall places. Berk! Ah! Deathlord has a good ring to it. I've certainly got the pale complexion. But 'death' and 'lord', you see. Sort of implies some hereditary system of patronage, not to mention waking up and finding you can't shave properly because the mirrors don't work. Possibly Xavier, but I always thought that was such a girlie name.

Got it!” “Er guys,” interrupts Dar as the back door creaks and groans. Stumpy joins him and peers at the grapple head protruding through the door, a quizzical look on his face. “Funny looking arrow, “ he remarks as he draws the Chaos Blade from his waist. Eorconlid is soon at his side with his sword drawn and is quickly weighing up the situation.

“Fear not, dear comrades!” announces Menahem in manly tones. "Your leader is back. For I am Conan - Conan the Librarian!”

Unfortunately for Menahem, reading about all-action hero stuff in books and trying to put it into practise are two very different things. His leap towards the door is impressive, but the effect is somewhat shattered by his inability to negotiate a moving vehicle without tripping over his sandals.

“We’d have to open the door to be able to reach out to the cable to sever it,” states Dar as he learns what Eorconlid wants to do. Meanwhile Stumpy has other ideas…

“I hope T'sardan was right about this cutting any armour,” mutters the dwarf as he carefully draws his arm back and stabs the Chaos Blade into the door. It passes through the metal of the door as though it were thick scroll paper and he starts to cut. The metalwork creaks and bends as the grapple hook pulls.

Whether it is the work of Stumpy or the aged hinges of the vehicle, no-one can really tell, but with the sound of tearing metal, the back doors burst open, the left door flying free with the cable and grappling hook still attached.

The occupants of the SET pursuit vehicle look a little worried as the door, bouncing on the freeway, rapidly approaches them. As it misses their windshield, their look turns to one of relief and then the manic gleam of over enthusiastic law enforcers as side windows are lowered and weapons start to protrude and be aimed at the now gaping back of the vehicle.

From the finger of the crouching Menahem comes the crackle of lightning as a bright bolt streaks forth towards the front of the pursuing vehicle. It takes out the right-side lights with a burst of sparks.

Dingle is looking out of his left side window at the Set vehicle that has sped up alongside them. Luckily Joshua is watching what is happening on the right and calls out the warning.

The other SET vehicle has apparently got some form of turbo boost for it has shot ahead of them and has now manoeuvred itself into position directly ahead. The rear window of the vehicle slides downwards to reveal two members of SET holding a ‘Boom Boom Riot Cannon’.

“Oh sheeeett!” shrieks Dingle.

“God damn the boogie!” exclaims Slavis.

“DUCK!” yells Joshua, though half the party don’t really need telling.

There is the shriek of the shell passing through the air, the shattering of glass as the windshield disintegrates.

At the same time, Menahem, unaware, is releasing his second Lightning Bolt at the pursuing vehicle. He does not see the shell pass right through the length of the van behind him and streak towards the enemy, and so is most surprised as his bolt hits the pursuit vehicle and it explodes in an extremely impressive fireball. The wreckage causes other vehicles to skid and a pile up begins.

Stumpy, who witnessed the shell pass over his head, exhales the words, “That was one big bee!”

“Look,” shouts Eorconlid as wind rushes through the non-existent windshield, “we have no chance of out running these SET vehicles in this junk pile!” He gestures around at Dingle’s van as a classic example of the junk pile genre. “Menahem,” he suggests, “why don’t you use that blink spell to get us out of here to a safe location! Like can't you blink all of us to the studio where we are to perform tonight?” “I’ve not seen the place,” comes the priest’s reply, “so I can’t get a location fix I’m afraid.”

Stumpy has squeezed past Meryl and Slavis to get up to a window that lines him up with the vehicle on their left side. Unable to work out the lowering mechanism for the window he simply smashes it out and calls out to the driver, “I've got a bee stick and I’m not able to use it.. err.. I mean scared... no I'm not scared.. oh sod it.. just die.. no you die, not me.. I mean why would I want to di...”

FUT! FUT! FUT! FUT! FUT! FUT! FUT!

Holes appear all along the inside of the van as from the rear passenger window of the SET vehicle comes rapid fire shots. Stumpy has ducked down but holding his pistol out of the window, starts firing back at the vehicle.

Joshua is getting ready with his Ice Wand as there is a bang and shards of metal suddenly fly about the inside of the van. Someone is firing a form of shotgun from the vehicle ahead and a second bang sees the vehicle swerve suddenly. Menahem almost falls out of the open back of the van, the quick reactions of Dar saving him, the warrior dragging him back in by the back of his robes.

“Dingle man keep this thing steady,” calls out Solomon from his position behind the driver. There is no reply and peering up from behind the seat he finds that Dingle is slumped dead over the wheel, his face and chest a mass of blood.

Stumpy pops his head back up to his own window and despite the swerving, gives the other driver a taste of his own medicine. After three shots there is a significant burst of blood within the SET vehicle and it goes into a roll that sees it catch fire and bounce into the frontage of the ‘ROBOPET SUPERMART’.

There is now just the one vehicle left infront of the van but the van is out of control and it veering towards the crash barrier that has appeared on the left. It seems the freeway is becoming a flyway, with twenty lanes of traffic some hundred feet beneath the bridge-affair that the freeway has become. Eorconlid, throws a worried look towards Menahem, “Now would be a very good time to blink us to a passing side street or the likes!”