Reporter: Woman in a long red overcoat? Who was she?
Marion: I didn’t know at the time, but she was clearly calling the shots. I was staring at her, and I felt so angry at her, that I didn’t notice what happened next. That’s when they came in the room.
Reporter: I am sorry, I am a little confused. After the white haired woman, who came in the room?
Marion: These large men, carrying an assortment of cases. And they moved so fast, I didn’t even notice their faces until they were already in the room with us.
Reporter: What do you mean by faces?
Marion: I don’t know how they got in so fast, but they were wearing ski masks, with round aviator sunglasses.
Reporter: So all wore ski masks?
Marion: But, then, we heard loud footsteps, even over music. When the large men came upstairs, we were scared and stopped playing, and then she took off her overcoat. The first thing I noticed was that one of her arms was completely covered in tattoos. I know this drove my friend even crazier, and she had weird jewelry on the hand that wasn't tattooed.
She wore these pants that looked like leggings, but they were still cargo pants with zip-up pockets on the outside of her leg. Then she had this, I don't know this…corset. It wasn't a regular corset though, it was like a vest, a red, bulletproof vest. I don't know what to call it, maybe a utility belt? Anyways, this belt went all around her waist. There were magazine pouches for a handgun, maybe, and then these little, um, I don't know, boxes. She turned around, and then she pointed directly at us, into the center, right at the cello. And then she screamed.
[Marion cries again, this time louder]
Reporter: Marion?
Marion: Yes?
Reporter: Marion, why did she scream?
Marion: She looked at the cello, right at my friend and the screamed: ‘Get it! Get the cello!'"
CHAPTER 14: THE OUTER LOUNGE
Chance - Ponca City, Ok
Cautiously, Chance entered the mansion. One does not grow up in the Sooner State without gaining some knowledge of North America's most magnificent castle. As a child growing up in Gene Autry, he had heard about the mansion. Once, while in his youth, his family vacationed for an entire weekend, so they could try and see everything in the marvelous building. Images from the castle had filled his youthful mind with wonder.
Now, almost twenty years later, EW Marland's residence filled Chance with awe again.
Marland Mansion Architecture was now joined with the creations of Elden Orkenkind.
"They have turned this whole thing into an abatis!" cried Chance to himself. Barbed-wire, trees, wood, were constructed into obstacles throughout the bottom portion of the Marland Mansion.
"It was never like this," said Chance aloud. "The darkness has stayed hidden, but now, now the Sons are ready to take their evil into the light!"
"Hey you!" said a rough voice.
Chance nervously started to reach for his weapon. He knew the speaker had heard his excited utterance. Freeborne turned to see the voice. Chance knew the orc from the Nomad’s intelligence reports. It was the leader of the Sons.
It was Gorgon Bartok.
"I know you!" cried Bartok.
"I'm going to have to kill him," said Chance, just loud enough for Byron to hear.
"You’re an orc from Ragnog, aren’t you?” asked Bartok.
Gorgon Bartok moved forward in his distorted movements. He leaned forward and extended his gnarled finger, and Chance gripped the pistol grip of his AR-15 and began to raise it towards the creature.
"Go help with that box!" cried Gorgon Bartok.
Chance released the grip of his weapon, and it fell flat against his body- attached by the sling.
"Wait…what box?" asked Chance.
Gorgon Bartok moved forward, and while his face was hidden in his garb, Freeborne could still sense the orc leader opening his mouth, and he felt his nerves tighten as he heard Gorgon Bartok's voice. "Go now."
"So toxic leadership is not unique to humans," said Chance under his breath.
Chance was unsure of his new appearance, and, in some ways, he felt like he was going through puberty. He felt stronger but was not entirely accustomed to his new body. He had accidentally bared his fangs, and this was not lost to Gorgon Bartok.
"Are you threatening me?"
Chance gripped his fists and he could feel Gorgon Bartok’s gaze on him. He relaxed his grip.
"Where do I need to go?"
Gorgon Bartok pointed his finger and Chance's eyes followed.
There stood in the middle of the tile floor a black, massive tomb.
"How did I not see that?" asked Chance.
He looked back at Gorgon Bartok, who was visibly shaking with what Chance guessing was a fearful reverence for the box. Chance wanted to take advantage of the situation, but, in some strange way, felt pity for the creature.
"Was that here the entire time?"
Gorgon Bartok avoided eye contact. “Yes,” he abruptly nodded his head.
"But how -"
"Jus' move it!" cried Gorgon. He raised a crude machete in the air from a tattered scabbard which hung on the rough coveralls.
"I don't ask questions," said Gorgon Bartok. "You shouldn't either."
CHAPTER 15: THE NORTH SALON, PART II
Novatorio - Ponca City, Ok
Reporter: Did she take the cello?
Marion: Yes, they grabbed it out of my friend's hands before they pushed him to the ground. I could feel his humiliation, but that feeling was immediately replaced with a sense of anger. My friend immediately got up from the floor and charged towards his hooded attackers. And the clothed figure, I could now see his hand, reached its hand and slapped him across the face. Streak of blood spread across his face from the wild, uncontrolled strike. I was shocked by the immediate lacerations that were on Phil's face. He stood still and gently dabbed the blood with his hand. I had been so conscious of the woman in red I didn't even look at the ensemble that had arrived with her. These...people, looked different, they wore ski masks. They appeared to be very, very strong, but the walked hunched over, as if they were twisted from drugs or something.
I thought they were wearing gloves, but when I looked further, I noticed that their hands seemed different. They were green, and their fingernails black, thick, and sharp. I knew they were different. The one that struck Phil walked roughly towards us.
The woman looked at us, and, I swear, she smiled at the creature. The woman looked at us, and told us that we would be going with him. She told us to be 'good little lambs' and we would be treated fairly.
Then, she looked back at this distorted figure. The thing looked like something out of slasher film, its face covered, hunched over, wielding a machete. The tattooed woman caressed the monster's mask. “Now, my pet, take them into the basement,” she spoke to it.
CHAPTER 16: LYDIE MARLAND’S BEDROOM
Chance - Ponca City, Ok
It looked like a Viking's interpretation of a sarcophagus, in the style of the Egyptian pharaohs. Chance pondered the commands that Gorgon Bartok had directed at him. He felt an immediate repulsion to the box. The thought of moving towards the box, churned his stomach, but still, he kept moving forward. Each step was slow and deliberate. Finally, he was able to reach out and touch the object. His lungs tightened, as he gasped for air. His entire body was moist with sweat.
Suddenly he felt a pain, not just in his lungs, but in his feet and body as well. His quadriceps burned. The heat and the pain in his body, and he began to fear he would lose consciousness from heat exhaustion.
The pain was overwhelming, but he also had a curiosity about the box. It was a curiosity that gave him an immediate connection to someone else.
This feeling was not new to Chance.
Sasha Ferrell.
His mind fought again. Images of Sasha swarmed his mind.
"They are connected," he said. From his position on the side of the box, he reached out and put his hand on the handle.
It didn’t make any sense, but it was the box. The box felt like it was draining the life out of him, and that the box’s strength was greater as he was closer to it.
"Upstairs- to the EW Marland’s room!" shouted Gorgon.
Gorgon waived his machete. “Faster, faster," he kept screaming.
Every step inflamed malice in Chance's heart towards Gorgon Bartok. The orc leader waived his machete and screamed at the four, who struggled under the weight.
"Don't worry, bra, you'll get yours," said Freeborne.
"What did you say?" asked Bartok.
"Is it near? The room?" asked Chance.
"Ah," said Gorgon Bartok, glancing over at Chance who knew he was sizing him up. "Just turn that brain of yours off, I'll do the thinking!"
In his pain, Chance found humor in the situation. The group had no clue how hard to push, or where they were going; their feet chipped ignorantly under the weight as they struggled forward under the influence of the box.
"No! No!" screamed Gorgon Bartok. "Not there! There, there!"
They had passed the room, and now the crew had to perform an awkward turn to put the box in the new place.
The humor of Gorgon Bartok’s toxic leadership was gone as each step had become more painful than the last. Chance had been struck by a tazer before, an excoriating pain that vibrated through the entire muscle. He felt that intensity in his quadriceps as he continued forward.
"Here!" screamed Gorgon Bartok, but his voice cracked. Despite his obvious pleasure in cruelty, there was a faint sense of compassion for the pall-bearers.
"Now! Get out of here!" screamed Gorgon Bartok.
CHAPTER 17: THE INNER LOUNGE
Marion - Ponca City, Ok
Marion: This…creature came towards to me. As I had just said, you could tell something was wrong with him. But, let me clarify, he did not look disabled or deformed. His handicap was not inherited. His crookedness appeared to be unnatural- as if from addiction or self-harm; I can say this because he reminded me of someone who did meth or other drugs. He brought his head out, and I was repulsed by the way his neck stretched forward while his head rotated. I could feel the hate in him. I have felt men lustfully stare at me before, but this was different. Somehow, I knew. I just knew that lust was different. It was a passion, an appetite for violence.
[Marion coughs, and tries to gather her emotions]
But I was more afraid of the next creature. That one terrified me even more.
Reporter: Terrified you more?
Marion: Yes, the first creature was terrifying, but the second one was even worse. While the first one was stood hunched over, this one was scary because it was gigantic. He stood well over six feet tall, was built like a football player - with no real space between his shoulder and neck. While the first hid his green skin, the second monster, was more intimidating because of his evident pride.
Reporter: Pride in what?
Marion: I guess, in himself. This monster revealed his green skin and yellow fangs. It was this pride that scared me the most. He stared at me and said something in a foreign tongue. At first, I couldn’t make it out. But then, he repeated the words and that’s when I recognized the language. .
I might be young, but there in Ponca City, we take pride in literature and writing, and we love learning other languages. I thought his words were Spanish, but while it was Romantic, I knew it was not Spanish. The creature stared at me with an intensity that terrified me and he repeated those words. I realized that it was not Spanish, it was Latin. He looked at me, and then repeated the words, absit iniuria.
CHAPTER 18: EW MARLAND’S BATH
Chance - Ponca City, Ok
"I've got to take a leak," said Chance.
"Hurry up," said Gorgon Bartok.
Chance remembered the hallways from the map rehearsal. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he did not run but walked quickly to back to EW Marland's steam room.
"Tactical patience," he said to himself, he had understood the concept when he was going through training, but, it was Asher's mentorship that hit it home.
"Tactics isn't wrestling. It's not football. It's jiu-jitsu. You get your hooks in, and then you start expanding from there," Asher had told him.
He deliberately pied the corner with his weapon system, ensuring there was no creature in the bathroom. After entering the bathroom, he locked the door behind him. He pulled the bag from his back, and from the pocket, he drew a gray device.
"Alright, Byron," Chance whispered, as he leaned his head toward the pin, "you're up bro."
Four rotary wings began to propel the device up, and it hovered above towards the ceiling. Chance dug into the bag and pulled out another drone. The drone's rotary wing spun. The device lifted off the ground. Then it stopped and dropped back to the floor.
Footsteps could be heard outside of the steam room.
Chance looked at the device. There was an indicator on the machine that did not light up.
"Pre-combat check, pre-combat inspections man, c'mon," said Chance to himself.
Furiously, Chance tore into the bag.
"Got 'em!" cried Chance grabbing the batteries.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Quickly, he opened the container of the drone and pulled out the old batteries.
Loud, uncouth steps of a Ragnog orc grew louder in the hall. He felt his fingers begin to shake as he fumbled the back portion of the device open, and then pushed the batteries in.
THUM THUM THUM
The drone remained on the ground.
The footsteps grew louder.
"It's not on!" said Chance into his smiley-face pin, "go Byron, go, go!"
Grabbing the device, he turned it on and set it back on the ground.
The door slammed opened.
"Hey!" cried an orc's voice. You!"
The drone flew up at the same moment the door burst open.
Chance slung his assault pack on to his back, and slipped a hearing aid into his ear, as one of Elden Orkenkind's tall, muscled up orcs came into the sweat room.
The creature looked at him with curious eyes. He felt an intensity on his hands and weapon, and he could feel the orc looking at the strap on his shoulder.
"Ragnog and its mysticism," said the orc, "I heard you in here mumbling to yourself."
Chance stared back. He knew he should snarl back in defiance. Weakly, he widened his lips and bared his teeth.
"Oh what teeth to eat you with," said the Son. "Looks sharp enough for cannibalism."
"Chance," said Byron into his ear, "we got Gorgon Bartok up top, and Elden in the bottom.
Let's see if we can get them together and make some sparks fly. They're fighting together, so they aren't noticing Asher's grand entrance."
"Cannibalism?" asked Chance.
The orc stared back at him, puzzled by the comment.
"Did I stutter? I am sick of you monsters giving our people a bad name," said the Son.
"You guys are always trying to undermine us," said Chance, unsure of his words, and hoping the orc didn't call his bluff. "Admit it, you're just trying to get us killed. Elden is supposed to be some orcish Napoleon, and his defenses are hot garbage."
"What does the Witch-Queen know about defenses? What do you know about anything other than killing unexpecting campers," the orc continued to speak.
"Close the deal," said Byron into his ear.
"Your real leader, Gorgon Bartok, is the only one that I trust. We are of…similar persuasions," said Chance.
The Son clinched his fists and bared his fangs.
"What does that mean?" asked the Son.
"What do you think it means?" asked Chance.
Screams from the tech crew rang loud in Chance's ear.
"Good close, good close!" cried Byron.
Ever so slightly Chance winced at the screams in his ear. The Son's rage was apparent, and Chance could see the orc's fist tightened around the pistol grip of his AR-15. His mind jumped fro
m problem to security as he saw the intensity of the creature's face. He did not hear the tech crew scream into his ear for thirty seconds, and then he listened.
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