Chapter CCLVII: Rather Unclean and Filthy Harold…or Something ~Multehx

Multehx's eyes darted from Fulsta to Kentaro to Lady North, to the areas of disturbance. Thoughts raced through his mind rapidly as he reached into his pocket for his pistol. But his thoughts stopped him mid-way through.

Wait! These guys are using bolts and most likely crossbows or some other projectile type weapon. So that means they're definitely not Havering's goons, or after the diamond, as either one would be loaded to the teeth with artillery on even the weakest members.

He was going to reach for the Rhyjulian, stuck on his back by the unnatural force, but stopped himself again. No. If they're not here on business with you, then you have no business with them...unless they go for you. So...time to make scarce unless needed to keep them alive. Besides, I don't feel like demonstrating my abilities to any a these new folk...I don't quite feel the “welcome” feeling, so time to let them make the beaten path for a change.

Quite nimbly and unnoticed for the most part, the agent dodged aside from flying weaponry and his dodging companions until he made it to the trees. Upon reaching one, he furled his cloak around him and crouched down, pulling a slight illusion trick, fooling the eyes of those in the area with a basic demon camouflage manoeuvre.

* * * *

Things were not faring so well in Ray Noh's part of the world either. He was steadily overheating, he was experiencing some heat induced malfunctions to his mind circuitry, inducing some identity crises, and he was now looking up a sand dune at one of the very well recognizable members of the Twilighter Council looking down at him.

The figure brushed aside a lock of it's hair. "Pfsh, if I had to run into one of you do-gooders, WHY couldn't it have been someone with something valuable to swipe?"

The robot huffed angrily. He didn't particularly know why, but he felt pretty flustered by this remark. "Why, I am TOO one of the important ones! You're just...just...a sense lacking, noseless creep!"

The council member growled, pointing a clawed finger at him. "Watch it, pal." It placed its hand upon its chest, taking a dignified pose. "Why, you're talking to one regal lady, you rude little trashcan on legs."

Ray Noh wiped more fluid off his brow and tried to bring to mind her name. He pointed at her, slowly moving his hand up and down, snapping his fingers. "Yeah, you're....hmm...you're...Herbert."

"The name's Fanah, nimrod." she groaned. "Anyway," she continued, drawing a brown, leather whip from under her cloak. It pulsed with a dull black aura. "This planet is near entirely desert, from my most ingenious calculations," she grinned, noting on the side, "Jadea certainly got so bright by being around me all the time!" then turning back and continuing, "So I decided, in all fairness, if we are to at all function; you, a pitiful lackey of one of the good people-"

"Hey! I am NO lackey!"

"Pft, whatever. So I deduce, in my generous and thoughtful nature, I have decided that I move us both to a more appropriate location; stranding you in the middle of a dangerous environment and me in a location which is most beneficial to my schemes."

Ray Noh scratched his head and frowned. "Um...I guess that would make sense, Leonard."

Fanah deadpanned and shook her head. "No, the sun has not been too kind to you thus far..." she groaned, conjuring a spell under her breath then releasing it directly under them.

A very familiar shape, namely a Rip Hole, formed beneath them, causing the two to plummet downward. Though about halfway down, it separated. Fanah fell one way, Ray the other.

Apparently, this was planned, as Ray Noh was deposited on the middle of a dank, somewhat chilly, very foggy expanse of moorland. He adjusted his glasses, looking around. By this cool climate and the humid air causing condensation to leak into his brain wiring, he finally began to see and comprehend clearly again.

"Hmm...seems a desolate place..." the robot mused to himself.

He reached into a compartment on his waist that popped open promptly, and removed the equivalent of the weapon referred to quite often on First Earth as an "Uzi". He checked the magazine, noted it was full, and slapped it back in.

He looked around casually, clearing his throat as he took the gun in one hand. "Well, I sense abundant life in this place, so if nature wishes to ew-scray with me, then let's rock and or roll, your choice," he said in his most macho, big man tone.