# Omega World Story hour: Grogan's Run...



## robotron666 (Aug 27, 2002)

Green tinged water splashed around our knee's as we half ran, half waded across the street. The smelly fetid splashing was the only sound, and most certainly the only discernable odour for a hundred feet. Beyond that was the hum of the death saucer, not nearly close or loud enough to drown out our frantic sprint for the plascrete bunker that might shelter us from its sensors. 

Death saucers are big, big as in huge, huge as in scary, and scary as in death dealing. Grigor, the savant of the group, had awoken this thing. Supposedly an expert in ancient technology, he’d messed with the wrong control panel and activated who knows what type of military system. The angry black saucer sprouted weapons, recognized us as intruders and gave Grigor four seconds to identify himself. 

Four seconds of helpless pleading with the floating black disk had resulted in a cloud of vapours that would never bypass another card-lock. Grigor was now just another whiff of odor in the pleasant melange of smells occupying the half sunken ruins. The city ruins that would soon be our grave, I was certain. Creator bless him, he was a fine fellow for an arrogant pure-strain human. 

My mind was brought out of reminisce to the present by a distinct sound. 

I heard the wicked hum of ray cannons training in on our position; I felt a gathering energy in the air. There was no time to warn the others. I focused my will and coughed up a defensive shield. 

Mutations can be so useful. At worst the field would slow the beam down so I could thoroughly witness my demise. At best it would save my sorry mutie butt. 

Throbbing black beams cut through the air, striking Cordek, the Oxen behemoth who was so protective of us all. He yelled in horror and was cut short (no pun intended) as his torso was vaporized. His lower body from the hips down kept running a few steps, and his broad hairy head blinked in confusion as its arc like trajectory resulted in a plopping noise several yards away from the smoking remants of his body. A large ripple was the only sign his head left in the half a meter of fetid water. 

I doubted his regeneration powers would be able to handle that. So I kept running. 

A wash of fear ran over me as I realized there were only three viable targets for the shiny black disc of destruction following us. Clazztik, a wasp like little fiend that had a penchant for devouring beings we wanted to interrogate. Sulbemar, a grotty little iguana man with the bad habit of ting in his own food to keep others from eating it. Then of course there was our courageous storyteller, me, half man, half something else. Sure I’m a mutant just like all of you, but my ma and pa were pure strains through and through. Although I guess they should have never planted their crops on a toxic spill. What they got from that was the spine rot, and me. 

But I digress. 

Having few options I froze. Black death sizzled past me and Clazztik erupted into a shower of arms, legs, and goo. His viscera spiralled out like meaty fireworks and fragments of his chitinous shell splashed into the water. Little wisps of steam arose from the shards of well cooked limbs and membranes that floated on the surface of our stagnant grave. 

Sulbemar, inspired by some deep well of reptilian courage, turned and fired off a blast from his rough looking shotgun. Pellets whizzed past me, bounced off of the armored carapace of the death saucer, and immediately drew attention away from me. I ran past the dark thing as it flew in pursuit of Sulbemar. The reptilian threat of a 4-foot tall iguana man toting a sawed-off obviously had more of a tactical priority than a defenceless mutant defecating in fear. 

I fled; with all speed my legs carried me as fast as I could towards the hatch in the concrete bunker. The bunker might just save my sorry ass from annihilation. It looked sturdy, the hatch was wide open, so I ran towards it like a rad-bat out of hell. 

Just as I made it though the hatchway and stepped onto dry ground I heard the distinct sizzle and pop of lizards innards being splashed across half a block. Sulbemar hadn’t even gotten off a second shot. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the saucer back tracked to me. If I didn’t close the hatch I was done for. 

I looked at the circular handle for the sturdy looking door, the door that would seal me in this plascrete bunker. The door that would render me safe from this relic of death bent on my vaporization. Yes the door that would be my salvation. I was suddenly presented with a unique problem. For as you can see, I myself was born without arms. 


Robotron666 is:

A shiny black saucer of death.

Would you like to see this thread continued? Let me know...


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## Thorntangle (Aug 27, 2002)

Yes, please continue. Great action, mutants, vaporizations - I love it.


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## Malachai_rose (Aug 28, 2002)

*yes*

very, very cool... the chase seen was well written and tense, the part at the end about our hero having no arms was also classic  I would just say there were two spots in the story where out of story humor was used that seemed to detract somewhat. Yet the witty comments of the main character were good and fit well with what you were doing.

Anyways loved the story and I would like to see more of it from you if you have the time


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## Arclight (Sep 12, 2002)

More please!


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## Gospog (Sep 13, 2002)

Great story!  Good to see another group enjoying Omega World.

Yes, more please!

BTW, did your GM really start the game with you all being chased by a killer robot?  Cruel.


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