So the good news is I finally learned these jerks’ names. The guy with the bow is apparently Jason, and the Viking is Tristan. I never learned Knives’ name, but it didn’t really matter since he ditched us somewhere between Germany and Arizona.
Yeah, about that. We headed to Arizona because some stupid whim or another. And as luck would have it, we had car trouble. And as luck would of course have it, we get to the next town with me pushing the freaking van the whole way, and the only mechanic in the whole damned town has been kidnapped. Why? Because fate is a stupid bitch and I hate her, that’s why. We find out some biker gang has kidnapped some folks, and sure enough we here a rumbling on the horizon. Soon some joker pulls up on a motorcycle, and if he’s capable of kidnapping a bunch of people, then I’m the Merry Queen of the Sunshine Brigade.
Well, right after that, we hear another rumble and figure more are on the way. I tell the stranger he should probably hide, as I stand out in the middle of the highway with my tire poppers all situated and sword and shield at the ready. Then come the Bikers. Welp, since fate didn’t screw with me enough with werewolves, the undead and goblins, these Bikers were fused to their rides, to be half man, half machine. Damned Mailman couldn’t drop me a letter about THIS crap, huh? Jerkwad.
So frontman for the bikers says for the poor girl at the gas station to come out, and I explain to him as nicely as I could that instead, he just needed to tell me where his boss was. He doesn’t see it my way, so I ask any of his buddies if they want to speak up. Nobody seems forthcoming, and they get agitated, so we make with the stabbing and shooting, and they make with the bleeding and fleeing. Works out well enough, because we borrow a car, and Jason tracks them by the smell of their exhaust. But not before we notice the stranger from before is still sitting there, all calm as can be, like this sort of thing is the kind of thing a person encounters after pulling up into a gas station in the middle of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon. He introduces himself as Kristof, and doesn’t appear to be in possession of far too many knives, so we invite him into our merry band of assholes and jerks.
We come up to a tent village, where all sorts of folks are wandering about. I spy a keg, before we’re rudely interrupted by some punk wanting us to talk to his boss. The boss, another abomination of man and machine, wants some key. Tristan tries to jack with him, but this punk doesn’t buy it. We head back to retrieve this key, and the preacher has it buried under the church. We go on the epic quest to find the key, and defeat it’s deadly guardians, the flimsy wooden door and the long ass walk, and claim the key as our prize. I pocket the key, and we head to the tradeoff point to trick the thugs into turning over the hostage, but the preacher makes us promise to kill ALL of the biker spawn. Kinda wanted to do that anyway, so for once fate didn’t directly piss me off.
So at the meet, a few bikers, not the interesting ones, had Bill the mechanic. One comes forward with a briefcase for the key, and then things got fun. I feed him my shield edgeways, and Jason puts holes in body parts that shouldn’t have holes. I then toss Bill to Tristan to get him out of harms way, as Kristof comes out of the corner railing. His fists hammer like pistons, each punch just destroying these poor thugs. I’d have felt sorry for them, but without thinking, I hurled my spear at a distant target as a rifle round pinged from my metallic skin. In an instant I was off, and sprinted up the mountainside to find my sniper friend. I launched past him and came down, sword first, and pinned him to the ground to bleed. I turned to retrieve my spear and saw a red glow where Purgatory should have been….