Joined: Tue Aug 01, 2006 11:09 am
Location: Hiding Out Until Things Cool Down...
That's right, Comedianmasta here with another series for you to love and hold and hopefully adore! I'm bringing an idea I had earlier to life, unfortunatley the orriginal idea for it died out... SORRY ALL! But, this will make it alot farther I hope. Consider this the beta test, you, Psypoke, are the first to see it's life.
Name: The Adventures of: Nathan Powell
Synops.: An adventurer is hired to help find a Ruby of massive size for a private contractor with a little too much good conections. While in Africa, the adventurer discovers a Fallen Angle, who informs him that the contractor is after much more then a Ruby, but the lost Temple of Moses. The Temple possibly holds a gateway to other worlds, possibly even Heaven and hell! Now it's up to the adventurer, Nathan Powell, his sidekick, Piahd, and the Fallen Angle to stop them, and get the Angle back where she belongs!
Rating: Movie Rating I'd say as PG-13 but for Safety Purposes down the road I'd say it's T for "sugestive themes" Like Religion, relationships, fighting, and Just all around bad guys.
Spoofs: Indiana Jones, James Bond:007, The Mummy
Ok, I hope you enjoy!
Ramone’s Saber seemed to ring after it had sliced a large tree branch in two; if he wanted to he could have had it back into his sheath before it hit the ground, but for effect he allowed his stance to stay unchanged until the branch crashed through the underbrush and rested on the earth. As he replaced his saber, he gave a crooked smile towards Piahd, who glared at his show of skill.
Drake stepped forward from the crowd, and examined the trail that had been cleverly hidden behind the branch’s leaves. He smiled, and adjusted his monocle. He turned swiftly, smiling.
“Good work, Ramone,” he said in a deep German accent, “Dian will be pleased. Mr. Powell!”
With his shrill order to attention, a man adjusted his hat, a dark brown Fedora, and stood, the hat still hiding his face. He then looked up into Drake’s eyes. The man had a dark brown five O’clock shadow, and a smooth Italian mustache over his dirt covered face. Dark brown eyes added to the darkness of his face, and his eyebrows were tilted as if in confusion.
“Please, Mr. Powell,” ordered Drake, “If you would be so kind! Shnell!”
The man named Powell sighed, then stepped forward saying, “I’ll do my job, you Croat, but if I were you I’d keep my voice down.”
“What? How dare you!” Drake exclaimed.
“What do you see?” asked Piahd.
Mr. Powell walked over to the newly discovered trail and knelt, his hands swiftly surveying the ground.
“To the unseen eye,” began Mr. Powell, “This looks like a well traveled, but very old trail. But you see these footprints? They’re a size 10 boot, treads marked from a Bulgarian boot company. Also you can see a thin, very light, set of tire tracks, freshish, from an ATV light track prototype four. I’d say this is a small supply route for a Russian research team. Those communists must have beaten us to the buck.”
Drake allowed his face to show nothing but anger as he heard those words. All the other crew members pulled what weapons they had, and prepared for a fight. Mr. Powell’s face hardened.
“Now, now, commandant, there’s no need for a fight.” He said quickly.
“Mr. Dian has given orders to get that map, Mr. Powell. We shall get it anyway possible.” Said Drake with a smile.
“Who says they found it?” said Mr. Powell, quickly, “Look, me and my counterpart can sneak in and see if they found it or not. If they haven’t, then WE can find it and leave, avoiding a fight and leaving them here for nothing.”
Drake seemed pleased, and he allowed a smirk to cross his face. Then his face tightened, and he stared threateningly at Mr. Powell.
“Mr. Powell, you do realize that there’s no where to run. If you try to escape with the map, you will die.”
“I won’t try to leave you guys until you have your part of the bargain, and I have mine,” said Powell, “Oh, and while we’re working together, call me Nate.”
With that, Nate turned and began walking into the jungle, Piahd following obediently. Drake motioned for some of the others to follow before he followed Ramone onto the trail.
It wasn’t long before the sounds of working could be heard, and then yells from some sort of warden as he barked orders in an unknown language. Before they reached the end of the trail, Nate veered off into the woods, and motioned for the others to follow. After traveling through the Jungle for a ways, they reached the end of the tree line, where they used the bushes and tree trunks as cover to spy over what they saw.
“Russians,” spat Drake, and his face squished as though he had eaten something sour.
Sure enough, they were Russians. Piles of dirt and stone were piled everywhere, and mine carts, tractors, and mechanical bulldozers moved around all over the place. There was a large area where rows of tents could be seen, and, of course, there were trucks and people running around everywhere. Although most of them looked very similar to the crew Drake had, some clearly wore military uniforms, and there were several military style trucks parked next to a cliff. In the cliff, a large cavern had been dug open, and the remains of a small temple could barely be seen.
Drake allowed his eyes to wander, and he scowled the more he looked around. He pulled out a 373 Lugar, a recreation pistol of the Old German P08 Lugar. Nate noticed and chuckled slightly. Drake noticed, and was angered more.
“I don’t see a blasted way in without direct confrontation. Mr. Powell, I think you better stand back!”
Nate, again, chuckled and pulled out a Smith & Wesson .357 magnum and cocked the lever. He wide grin spread across his face.
“I think I can hold my own,” said Nate.
Drake only seemed angrier, but he ignored the feeling as he motioned troops forward. Nate motioned for them to be silent.
“Now, now, Eger McBeaver. There’s another way then entering guns-a-blazing. Look, half of them don’t even care. They’re so out of it, I betcha we could head around there and sneak in. Look, me and Piahd could easily get in there and-”
“Now, you halt right there, Herr,” interrupted Drake, “There’s no way we’re sending you in alone! I am coming with you, and so are some of our counterparts.”
Ramone snickered from farther back, and Drake glared back at him.
“Not you, nincompoop! I need someone to lead the rest of the men onward to victory!” said Drake, “Now let’s move you!”
Nate allowed his eyes to roll as he rose and moved to his right through the woods. Piahd followed resiliently, practically being pushed along by Drake and the two crew members behind him. They both held AK-47s, and their eyes rarely left the camp. The only unarmed one of the group was Piahd, who just shuddered along and barely stopped shivering from fear.
Nate led them right where the military trucks were parked, and they navigated between them until they were close to the cave entrance. They watched as some people walked in and out of the entrance. Nate examined them, and nodded approvingly.
“Okay, look, they appear to be leaving and entering in shifts. We can sneak in undetected if we-” started Nate, but he was cut off Drake.
“We know the drill! Just say ‘go’ so we can run in already!”
Nate nodded, and he rocked on the balls of his heels. After a few seconds, he motioned forward and ran ahead without waiting for the others. He sprinted into the opening, and down until he noticed he was in a large hallway of the temple. He spotted an off corridor and he ducked into it. He saw it ended in a dead and, and stopped. Almost immediately the two other soldiers ran into him, and Piahd and Drake had time to stop before running into them.
Nate glared at them, and then looked out into the main hallway.
“Well?” asked one of the soldiers.
“I had no idea that would work,” said Nate, “Cool… now to find where to go next…”
Piahd signed, sweat forming on his brow, and he leaned against the wall. His shoulder bumped a tile that was slightly sticking out and a rumble was heard. Everyone looked around, and then glared at Piahd. Piahd smiled sheepishly.
“I didn’t do it,” he said, but he wasn’t given a chance to continue.
The floor was swept from underneath them and they fell into a dark abyss. Nate felt himself hit a stone floor sooner then he’d expected, and he listened to the moaning.
“What the hell was that?” yelled Drake, and he cursed in German.
“Keep it down, you Croat. Besides, be thankful we landed on ground. This could’ve been a trap,” said Nate, as he got up and picked up his Fedora.
“Oh, yeah, the pungie sticks!” exclaimed Piahd.
“Powell, if you keep putting us in danger…” threatened Drake.
“Oh, come on, we were fine!” said Nate.
“You were fine! I got stabbed by one. In a matter of fact, I got stabbed in the buttocks!” yelled Piahd.
“Oh, but you turned out alright,” waved Nate, as he examined the chamber they fell into.
“Powell…” growled Drake from behind clenched teeth as he adjusted his monocle.
“Hey, cool, shortcut!” exclaimed Nate as he examined a door at one end of the small room that they had fallen into.
Nate examined the door, and found a lever in one end of the door, hidden in the wall. He pulled the lever and the door jerked, and opened slightly. Nate shook his head, examining the doors as the others joined him.
“Must be stuck,” said Nate, “Old, you know.”
“Pretty easy to open, eh?” said Drake.
“Slightly, Drake, the Incas didn’t exactly expect anyone to attack, win, and overpower their magnificent army and then FIND their lost treasure. They didn’t exactly think about hiding anything.”
Nate began walking down the corridor, not trying to wait up for the others. He could hear their boots pounding the stone floor. Nate was very careful not to go too fast, he realized very quick that he hated the sound of Drake’s voice.
It wasn’t long until they say a bright light at the end of the corridor, and they could hear talking from farther away. As they reached the end, Nate parted a giant mesh of Spider’s Webs to look into the grand chamber.
The chamber held several large, very thick, stone pillars that help up its high ceiling, and it had a row of torches on each. Floodlights and a bunch of different digging equipment littered the chamber. Large black bags were staked at one edge of the chamber. There was one bare spot on the chamber, it had a series of crisscrossed cracks on the floor, and it all lead to a pedestal, where a folded piece of parchment stayed still as stone on top.
Some scientists and soldiers were just leaving the room, two of them carrying a body that Nate didn’t have time to see. When they left the room, Nate dropped from the ledge the opening was on down into the chamber and he looked around. The others followed and they made their way toward the parchment.
“Mr. Powell, we only have a few minutes before they come back,” said Drake.
“Shh, it’s not so easy. Otherwise they would have-” Nate started, but he cut off as he examined the floor space around the pedestal.
“Nate, there appears to be something… on the ground,” said Piahd, before he turned away and clenched his eyes shut.
There was spots of red liquid splattered and pooled throughout the space. Nate allowed his face to scrunch in disgust as he observed the area.
“Well? Go get it!” ordered Drake, glaring at Nate.
Nate allowed a large sigh escape him and he shook his head, saying “This never gets any easier.”
Nate prepped himself for a minute, and then he sprinted at the space. Almost as soon as he touched it, buzzing filled Nate’s ears, and saw blades began to pop out and slide from the cracks in the floor. Nate immediately slid to a halt and cursed from underneath his breath. He sidestepped and jumped, barely missing several Saw blades as he made his way across the space. Eventually, he jumped back, right into the pedestal. He smiled slightly and grabbed the parchment. Almost immediately, the saws cringed to a slow halt, and slid back into the depths of the cracks.
Nate smiled, eyeing the parchment, and then back at Drake, Piahd, and the others. They all just shook their heads except Drake, who eyed the parchment hungrily.
“Well, I’ll be, Nate. Looks like your God doesn’t want you dead today either, eh?” said Piahd in his heavy Indiana Accent.
“That or I’m one lucky son of a gun!” Nate said through an uneasy smile.
“Good, good, now hand it over, Powell!” barked Drake, aiming his gun at Nate.
Nate stared on, slightly shocked, but he shifted the scroll in his hand and prepared to throw it over.
“Reichien! Quidorili!” yelled a voice from across the chamber.
Every head turned, and Nate picked out four men who had entered the chamber. Two were obviously scientists, while the other two wore military uniforms and held AN-94s. They all pulled their weapons and aimed at Nate, and then the others. The two crewmembers that came with Nate aimed their weapons at them and there was a standoff with yelling.
One of the scientists pulled a pistol, and fired off a round at Nate. The bullet missed Nate, but ricocheted off a pillar, and then off another, and hitting Drake in the monocle. The monocle shattered, causing Drake to scream and clutch his bleeding face. Almost immediately the two soldiers opened fire, and a fire fight started. Piahd let a scream erupt from his mouth as he dived out of the way. Nate dived away from the line of fire and onto the ground, grabbing his magnum and grabbing Piahd.
“Time to go!” yelled Nate as he rushed off the way they’d came.
Nate saw a staircase and ran towards it with Piahd in tow. Before they reached it, three Russian Soldiers holding AN-94s rounded a corner, surprised to see Nate. Nate aimed and shot two of them before they could respond; the other fired, but was shot before his shots could be directed at Nate and Piahd.
“Let’s go,” yelled Nate as he dragged Piahd up the stars.
They had made it to the top of the stairs before Nate tucked the scroll inside his inner vest pocket and broke out in a dead sprint. Piahd was right behind him, keeping better pace with Nate.
At the end of the hallway they were running down seemed to be some sort of openings covered in vines and moss. Nate just clenched his teeth and sprinted at it, running his full momentum into it, breaking through. Piahd followed right behind as Nate plummeted downward. Nate landed hard on top of one of the military trucks, Piahd on one next to him.
Nate got up, brushing himself off with Piahd right next to him.
“Well, I’ve had worse landings…” muttered Nate.
“Well I haven’t,” answered Piahd, “But how are we going out of here?”
Just then bullets erupted from all around, Nate and Piahd kneeling on the truck’s back cover and closing their eyes. Nate looked around, and spotted the source. The rest of Drake’s men had come out of the trees and began shooting down the Russian soldiers and workers. Ramone was out front, slicing them down with his sword effortlessly.
“Why are they attacking them?” asked Piahd.
“Drake must’ve radioed out,” said Nate.
“No, I mean the workers…” said Piahd.
Nate didn’t have time to respond before the truck rumbled to life and began moving forward. He was thrown backward, only staying on because he grabbed hold of the cover. Nate reached for Piahd, who almost fell off the back, too.
The truck turned out of the campground area and onto a trail into the jungle. The truck began speeding up as it distanced itself from the camp.
“Looks like we’re catching the… 5:20 out of here!” commented Nate.
Before he had a chance to open his moth again, a bullet whizzed past him and hit the truck, then more tore through the trees and at the truck. Nate noticed on a ledge above them another truck full of Russian soldiers was firing down upon them. Nate pushed Piahd out of the way of the bullets, while he jumped towards the cabin himself. Piahd almost fell off the back, but his leg caught a rope and he hung upside down from the side.
Nate fired some shots toward the other truck, but was distracted when the soldiers got close enough to through some objects at him. Most of them didn’t make it, or went over the truck, but one landed next to Nate, so he examined it.
“Grenade!” Nate exclaimed.
Nate dived for it and grabbed it, tossing it at the other truck’s direction. Nate heard an exclamation from the other truck before the grenade exploded, it was enough to cause the truck to swerve, right into a tree. Nate didn’t have time to survey his handiwork, as the explosion sent the truck he was in off coarse too, and it hit a slight bump off the trail and Nate went flying.
Nate felt his body slam into a bush, which was a lot softer then he expected. Nate moaned as he rose from the brush. Rubbing his knees and back. Nate rubbed his now head, noting that his hat was no longer present.
“Piahd! Piahd!” called Nate as he surveyed the wrecked truck not too far away.
The driver was knocked out, but still breathing. His passenger was not so lucky, for he was nowhere to be seen but the shattered windshield on his side had been completely knocked out. Nate surveyed the area around the truck, it seemed ok.
“Nathan!” exclaimed Piahd as he got out of the brush. He had an angered look on his face.
“Oh, there yeah are!” said Nate.
“You…” said Piahd, out of breath, “You… pushed me!”
“Yeah,” said Nate as he searched the ground around the truck, “To save you from the bullets. Hey, have you seen my hat?”
“I… could have died!” said Piahd.
“Eh, what else is new?” said Nate, still looking around.
“Why are you so… possessive of that stupid hat!” said Piahd.
“Because, it took me 18 years to get that ‘stupid’ hat, I’m very attached to it!”
Nate looked around another bush and sighed with relief. Grabbing the Fedora and placing it on his head, victoriously.
“Now… to find the way out,” said Nate.
“Oh, Mr. Powell,” said Drake from behind Nate, “You wouldn’t be leaving so soon?”
Nate spun around, almost flinching when he saw Drake and his crew there. Drake pointing his pistol at him, and Drake’s crew aiming at Piahd and Nate. Nate threw on a fake smile and held out his hands.
“Guys! Glad to see you made it out unscathed!”
“Unscathed, Mr. Powell?” snarled Drake.
Nate did noticeably flinch that time, he noticed the eye where the monocle once covered was now bloody and… for the most part, missing.
“Not all of us made it out!” snapped Ramone, who still held his bloody Scimitar in his hands.
Drake scowled again, and held out his other hand, still bloodied from clenching his eye perhaps.
“Heh-heh,” laughed Nate uneasily, “Come on, Drako ol’ pal! I said as long as we’re working with each other, call me ‘Nate’ or ‘Nathan’. Besides, you’re boss is gonna want to see this!”
Nate took the scroll out of his vest and tossed it to Drake, who caught it and grasped it eagerly. Then he scowled at Nate and cocked his pistol. Nate winced, expecting a shot, but then Drake just lowered his weapon and swore under his breathe.
“Come on!” said Drake, “Let’s get out of here before those Russians regain their balance!”
Nate allowed a smirk to cross his face, and then he followed them to the waiting stolen trucks.
The Adventures of: