Prairie Gazette

14 Uril, 973

G&S new locomotive set to launch amid demand

Glenstock & Sons will be rolling out its first brand new locomotive in 10 years this week, satisfying the current demand in transport between Fervelen and Delioch. The brand new train dubbed the G.D. INDOMITABLE, features state of the art passenger and freight rail cars, an oversized wedge plow, and the brand new Gem powered engine. Mr. Glenstock has stated that with this new model, locomotive derailment will be a thing of the past as the G.D. INDOMITABLE will plow through anything in its path, be it boulders, trees, or the occasional wandering stone titan.

Chapter 1 - Roadblock

A massive crate landed on the roof and the carriage rocked from the impact. The coach driver grumbled at Clay to be more careful with the goods while taking a swig out of his flask. Clay rolled his eyes and contemplated letting the driver finish the work, but reconsidered when he thought of how much longer it’ll be before they leave if he does that. He took off his leather rancher's hat and wiped the bead of sweat off his brow before getting in position next to the last crate. He gripped a gem in one hand, a soft red glow coming off it. Clay called on the power within it and the gem answered. His skin twisted around his hands and forearms like a towel wringing out water, his muscles knotted and flexed ready to take on more than otherwise possible. Clay squatted and threw the crate on his shoulder, something that should take four men to lift barely took any effort from him. The crate sailed through the air just like the last and as it landed it began to tip. A slight miscalculation; the crate tipped off the edge of the carriage and began to fall towards Clay. Hands raised towards the object threatening to crush him Clay called on the gem once again. The energy went toward the crate this time, enveloping it, siphoning the momentum from it. A few moments later the crate was hanging in the air as if it forgot how to fall, hovering inches from Clay's face. Placing the crate back on the roof Clay stepped off the carriage wondering if the pay was really worth all the hassle. He put a cigarette in his mouth and took a drag as the tobacco ignited in the flame. As the smoke filled his lungs the skin around his arms began to relax and the feeling of overwhelming strength left his body, he pocketed the lighter and waved to the driver to start the trip. Clay looked at the face staring back at him from the glossy wooden paneling and squinted as his fingers brushed his cheek. Clay was just in his thirties but the wear and tear of the jobs he took began to show itself. He looked tired, bags under his eyes, small stubble covering his face, unkempt black hair peeking out from under his hat. His arms twisted up and scarred from the constant gem usage he always wondered how long it would be before his body completely gave out. He sighed and threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground as he climbed into the coach.

The raindrops pattered against the veneer of the station coach as it gently rocked side to side. It’s been nearly a day since it left Eastmouth and it has been making good time before the dark clouds rolled over the horizon. The coach driver threw a hood over his head as he grumbled. This trip was not on his itinerary but Mr. Ackford paid good money and the ride was just to a town over. The inside of the coach was filled with scribbling sounds as one of the two occupants was taking down notes in his journal. Troy was a lanky young man, his shoulder length hair falling periodically in front of his face. He has worked for Mr. Ackford for about half a year, doing odd jobs mostly involving retrieval of old tomes and bookkeeping. His employer was a prominent archeologist and has been trying to uncover information about a recent dig that has uncovered old ruins. His partner Clay was a recent hire and was better suited at labor than academics. The coach jolted as it rolled over a stone in its path and Clay jolted awake. He wondered how long he was asleep for, as far as he could tell it could have been years. He yawned and reached into the breast pocket of his vest and pulled out a cigarette.

“Do you really have to smoke that in here?” Troy said, still taking down his notes.

“Relax, I’ll open the window.” said Clay as he cracked open the coaches window. “How much more do you need to write down, we barely started this job.”

“This isn’t about the job, just some personal notes.”

“Alright, well I’m going to go get some air and find out how much longer we have to go.” Clay put on his leather cattleman's hat and climbed out of the window making his way towards the drivers bench on the front of the coach. The gray clouds covered the sky obscuring the sun, the raindrops lightly hitting Clay's face as he looked out on the road ahead. He barely got one foot out of the window when he spotted them.

“Stop the carriage.” Clay yelled trying to scramble into the coach.

“What's that?” The driver grumbled as he looked back at Clay.

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“Stop the carriage, now.” Clay shouted again pointing ahead of them.

The driver looked ahead and saw the pack. A group of three boar-like creatures, massive and hairless. Their skin twisted and scarred just like Clay's hand. They clearly saw them and began charging at the carriage as it screeched to a halt, the driver trying to turn the horses around. Clay made it into the coach and lunged into his travel pack.

“What’s happening?” Troy asked, his journal on the floor, concern on his face.

“A pack of grinders, boars maybe.” Clay answered while digging in his bag. After a few moments he felt the grip in his hand. Clay pulled out a revolver, silver with a black grip and holstered it on his side. Next out was a small felt pouch, warm to the touch. Clay looked into the bag and counted the crystals he had, only four. Clay looked at Troy, thinking for a moment.

“Stay inside.” He said, stepping out of the coach slamming the door behind him. Not a moment later it was upon him, Clay rolled to the side the huge fleshy mass flying past him as it slammed into the side of the coach. The wood groaned and cracked from the impact as the wagon tipped and fell on its side from the impact. The horses whinnied as they got pulled to the ground by their harness, the driver flying into the brush to the side of the road. Clay pulled his revolver, trained it onto the beast and squeezed the trigger. The gun roared as it let a bullet loose, straight towards the beast. The flesh of the board twisted and tightened and as the bullet reached its target it diverted away ever so slightly, the raindrops around the boar now flying away from it horizontally. Clay's aim was true but the boar was drawing on the power of the crystals that turned it into the monster it now was. It was instinctual, but it was enough to divert the bullet away from it. The beast turned around, setting its sights on Clay. He turned on his heels and ran, the beast charging behind him, he needed to get into a better position, two more creatures coming in from the side. He reached into the pouch, pulling one crystal out of it and reached out to the energy stored inside. As he felt the familiar warmth flow through him, his leg muscles contracted and the skin tightened. He was able to push himself further, past what his body is normally capable of. His feet slammed the ground, a cloud of dust rising behind him, he set his eyes on a boulder off the side of the road. The beasts closed in behind, imposing but clumsy. Not used to the size of their massive bodies they bumped into each other slowing themselves down. As Clay closed in on the boulder he felt the ground shaking from the hooves beating behind him and he could almost feel the breath of boar on his neck. His mind blanked as he jumped, his leg muscles releasing all the power he had, launching him onto the boulder dozens of feet away. Not a moment after the boulder shook as one of the monstrosities slammed into it with all its power, he looked around as he hung on and saw that the boulder was now surrounded from all sides. Clay cocked his revolver and aimed it on the beast that was closest to him that was momentarily dazed from the impact. Reaching for the last of the power in the gem he put all of it into the bullet in the chamber, hoping it will be enough to break through the opponent's defenses. The bullet ripped through the air, the energies within it pushing faster than the gun ever could by itself. The beast recoiled in pain as the projectile pierced into its flesh, stumbling back. Clay did not waste a moment, he leapt from the boulder and was on its back, pulling another stone from his pocket. Two more shots rang out, going straight through the boar's skull and slumped onto the ground, one last breath escaping its nostrils. Clay had only a moment's break as he heard stomping to the side of him, the two remaining beasts closing in the distance. The rain drops around Clay slowed their descent as he channeled the energies of the stone, the boars charge slowed as it got in close. It wasn’t enough, the boar carried too much momentum and its own energies to be counteracted fully and it slammed into Clay. He sailed through the air, another spent gem sailing out of his grasp, wondering if the pay for this job was worth all the trouble. He rolled as he hit the ground breaking his fall, his body screaming from the pain wasn’t going to last much longer. He grasped another crystal, he was running low and needed to make them count. He got on his knee and aimed at the charging mass that just sent him flying and sent a bullet loose. The beast reacted and the forces surrounding it tried to divert the projectile but it was futile, the bullet carried too much of its own energy to slam through the leg of the beast. It dropped to the ground squealing in pain in front of Clay, and as it stopped skidding he put another round between its eyes, spending the rest of the stones' energy; just one left . The revolver’s barrel swung out, the spent casings slightly ringing out as they hit the ground. Six rounds in hand, he began loading them into the barrel. Hands shaking, out of breath, Clay was struggling to reload the revolver and as the last round went in he slammed the barrel shut and looked up. The last boar was too quick, he hit into Clay and lifted him into the air as if he weighed nothing. The wind left Clay's body in an instant and the revolver flew out of his grasp as he was being carried away. The beast slammed into the stone and Clay barely held onto his consciousness as his head connected with it. The rain hitting his face felt good and very indirect opposition to the heat that was radiating on the back of his head, the back of his neck felt wet and he wasn't sure if it was the rain or blood. Clay gripped his hand as he felt the last gem in his hand, now cool to the touch after being spent to mitigate the momentum of the impact. He may have prevented his death just now but he was spent, nothing left to kill the beast that was looming above him. Clay closed his eyes ready for what's to come, he wondered where he would be right now if he just followed in his fathers footsteps and became a cobbler. More importantly he was upset he could smoke one last cigarette but that didn't matter now as he felt the hot exhale of the snout just above him. Clay took a breath and held it, anticipating the strike that would end him and then there was a loud bang. Then a second, a third, he opened his eyes and saw Troy standing next to the beast. Point blank Troy was unloading the entire barrel into the skull of the boar. He looked nervous, both hands on the revolver trying to keep it under control. He wasn't even looking at the boar but he was too close and every shot found its mark, the boar hit the ground like a sack of vegetables. The revolver followed the beast clanging as it bounced on the ground. Troy threw his hands up on his head trying to compose himself.

“Holy fuck. Are you okay?” Troy managed to get out through his shaky voice.

Clay laughed as he looked at him and reached into his breast pocket for his cigarettes.

"We need to get you a gun.”