Goose Saves Terra-Part VII
From Betamountain.org
Goose Saves Terra-Part VII
The Rangers jumped away from each other, just as four of the hooded servitors landed right where the three law-folk had been standing. Doc headed for the four demons at top speed, veering off to the left and ducking just inches away from their grasping talons. Niko leaped over a chair, then tucked her knees up and rolled to a stop under a large table; balancing on her head and hands (managing not to pin her long brown hair to the floor), she planted her feet on the underside of the table and shoved it up and over, knocking the remaining four servitors back into the bookshelves or the alcoves between them. Buzzwang hooked a squat, backless chair with his foot and kicked it straight at the Gunslinger; the four-armed thug managed to duck under the flying furniture, but the spectacular greeinish explosion of energy as it contacted the main door to the library distracted him for the split-second Buzzwang needed to close the distance between them and send both knees into the Gunslinger's exposed back. The huge being roared and dropped to his knees.
Larry and Mogul blinked as the Rangers started their fisticuffs, then turned to exchange nods. With a snap of their fingers, both sorcerors vanished with loud popping sounds and flashes of light. Mogul reappeared on the third level of the library, leaning against the wood railing running around the opening. There was a sharp cry from somewhere on the second level, followed by a crash and a thud. "I'm okay, boss," Larry's voice floated out over the din of the fight, "Just miscalculated my re-entry point..." Mogul slapped a hand to his brow, shaking his head.
The demons focused their baleful yellow eyes on Doc as he scrambled to his feet. Each of them turned, retrieving one of the many large objects on display in the library; one held an oddly familiar globe, half a meter in diameter and rusty red in color, with the word 'Barsoom' on the name-plate on the base, another demon readied a wheeled cart (sending dozens of books sliding all over the floor), and the remaining pair gripped a pair of mis-matched, backless chairs over their heads.
Doc only had time for a moment to stare at the first demon's weapon ("That planet looks kind of familiar...", he thought to himself) before he needed to dodge the deadly display, pieces of the artifact littering the back of his uniform as he leaped aside. Rolling to his feet, he managed to shove the flung cart just far enough away (or did he push himself aside?) for it to miss smashing his head by a few centimeters. One chair came at him at waist-height, the other was only a heartbeat behind it; in the blink of an eye, Doc slapped the first chair down to the floor and used the solid ebony artifact as a springboard to jump over the other chair's path.
Landing with one foot on either arm of the sturdier ebony chair, Doc glimpsed the table at which three of the demons had been sitting a few moments ago. He held up his hands, palms out. "I hear you boys like a good game of cards," he said, nodding at the table. The demons paused and glanced at each other. Evil smiles passed among them as, one by one, they nodded. Three stepped over to the table, gathering up the cards, dividing the chips, and re-arranging the chairs to accommodate five players. The remaining one turned back to Doc and swept his arm toward the table; "Deal," he hissed, as the chair-arranging demon tugged the fifth chair out a bit from the table.
Doc gulped back his fear and wiped a bead of sweat from his temple, then took his place. The backs of the cards in the deck being held out to him in Earthquake-Voice Demon's taloned hand bore only a rich red rectangle inside a half-inch-wide white border; almost impossible to perform sleight-of-hand tricks without being caught. He accepted the deck from the demon and began to shuffle...
Niko found herself facing eight servitors in two ranks of four rows. Each had unsheathed a swords, knives, or other weapons and began to sinuously weave them through the air, taking menacing steps forward. There was nowhere for Niko to dodge, and she backed up a step... then another... Then her heel tapped against something. Without looking around, she felt that it was the base of the statue of Sun W'u-Kung; "I wish you could give me a little help right now, Monkey King," she murmured, partly over her shoulder. "These guys could use an attitude adjustment..."
Suddenly, she felt something tap against her shoulder. Without taking her eyes off her assailants (who had suddenly become very still, staring at something just behind her), she reached around to wrap her fingers around... a staff?
Not just any staff, either, but a bamboo staff that felt like it had a core of something very heavy...
Niko slowly turned to face the statue, her eyes about ten centimeters below the statue's own, which were set in the head to downward at an angle that didn't *quite* meet Niko's. The paw that had been holding the staff was empty, though nothing else had changed. Something flew past one of the lights shining on the statue, and even though she knew that it had to be a trick of the light, Niko could almost have sworn that the statue had just winked at her.
"Dealer has three of a kind, nines," Doc said showing his cards. Three of the other demons scowled, laying their hands down on the table while the fourth (whom Doc dubbed "Grizzly-Bear-Voice Demon"), having folded a few moments previous, gave a thin smile. Doc passed the deck around to the demon on the left, scraping the chips toward his pile. He had to admit that these guys played a damn fine game of "Silver Bullets" poker...
She looked at the statue and, letting a slight smile flicker across her lips, nodded once. "Monkey-style, it is, Sun W'u-Kung."
Behind her, one of the servitors thrust a double-edged sword straight at her back as soon as he saw her move. Using the heavy staff as a pole, Niko lifted herself up and out of harm's way, the deadly blade barely missing the very ends of her hair. She spun halfway around the pole, planting her feet on the backstabber's shoulders and backflipped over him, taking the pole with her. She landed behind the rearward rank of servitors, with four servitors evenly spaced in front of her. Dropping to a crouch, she whipped the staff around to catch the leading foot of the leftmost attacker and sent him stumbling into the man next to him, who crashed into the next man, and the three of them flattened the fourth man into a groaning pile. The four remaining servitors leaped over their fallen comrades to press the attack while Niko jumped up on top of a table for a more strategic vantage point.
"Flush, diamonds, Queen high," said 'Swamp-Muck-Voice Demon' to Doc's left.
"Pair, deuces, trey of spades, five of hearts six and seven of clubs," said 'Grizzly-Bear-Voice' to Doc's right.
Doc frowned, but placed his cards face-down with a languid motion with the other three demons. "High and low hand split the pot," he said, allowing the two demons who'd spoken to claim their respective halves. He needed to practice "Z" poker more often...
The Gunslinger was definitely more suited to gun-play, Buzzwang decided, ducking under a cross-swing maneuver meant to set him up for a bear-hug. The android's new speed, physical and mental, let him 'read' the Gunslinger with ease, although the larger fighter's constant patter was a little annoying.
"Flatten the flea, bash the bug," the four-armed being murmured, his clubs spinning. 'Wish I had my guns. Solid. Finish this off right quick, I would. Oh, yeah."
Buzzwang trapped the Gunslinger's upper left arm as it whipped past his head, torquing the wrist enough to release the club from the gigantic fist and forcing the other to bend over in pain.
"Don't like this, not a bit, you betcha," Gunslinger grunted, sagging towards the ground as his arm slowly torqued upward.
Buzzwang's eyes could not roll heavenward to reflect his newfound knowledge of an appreciation for human expressions; he made do with putting a grimace on his face. "Would you *please*," he said, tightening his grip around Gunslinger's captured wrist, "...just... keep.. quiet?" For the first time in Buzzwang's knowledge, the Gunslinger's constant chatter cut off like a deactivated recording, the 'silence' replaced with low grunts of pain. One by one, the remaining clubs dropped from calloused fists with a clatter. First one hand, then another spread out to lay flat on the floor; Buzzwang sensed that once all three of the bully's free hands were touching the carpet, he'd surrender...
Suddenly, the lower left arm curled up from its position just above the floor, slipping through the space between Buzzwang's own arms to land a blow on the android's chin. The mechanics of the strike made no sense, but the Gunslinger managed to squeeze enough force into the strike to weaken Buzzwang's wrist-lock, and his prisoner was free.
"Shut *me* up, willya?" the Gunslinger roared, hands flashing out in a flurry of blows. Buzzwang blocked, ducked, and sidestepped, desperately avoiding his opponent's hands and the debris on the floor. Gunslinger spread his lower arms and rushed forward for a bear-hug. Buzzwang dropped under the grab, only to catch a stunning kick to the chin that sent him flying five, six, seven meters through the air... landing flat on the table where Doc was gambling with the demons.
Cards and chips flew everywhere. Doc squatted down to offer Buzzwang a hand up, eyeing the demons as they rose to their feet, letting their cards drop to the ground. Wait, 'Hissing-Voice Demon' still had his cards and sat in his chair as if the table was still there...
'Hissing' silently straightened up, cards folded into a single stack. Without even turning to face his compatriots, he moved to stand in front of the advancing Gunslinger.
The four-armed fighter paused as his master's ally stood in front of him. Hissing held up his cards and fanned them for Gunslinger's inspection.
"I had a king-high straight!" the demon exclaimed in a hissing roar, left hand flashing straight up to ram the palm into Gunslinger's chin. Two tooth-fragments flew out of the taller creature's mouth as he toppled backwards, stumbling over several books scattered across the floor and missing the warded door by less than ten centimeters as he slammed into the library wall.
Up on the balcony, Larry watched the battle with growing nervousness. "Are we losing?" he asked his master.
Mogul's arms were spread about him, balls of reddish fire hovering just above the palms. "Not for long!" he told his apprentice as the fireballs expanded to the size of a human head.