I wasn't sure where else to put this, and Ron pointed out we should pry have this thread move somewhere besides where we had it... I said I was gonna post here every day, so here goes for the first day of my gun-training.

Well... Ron got a taste of my nastier side, today. <_< Sorry again, Ron.

First off, I am almost deathly afraid of guns. Yeah, I've got an armor spell that can protect me against bullets, but I'm not sure how long it'd hold up under an onslaught, and it's not something I wanna risk my life to find out, or stake my life on in a nasty situation. I was hoping that Ron's training me would help clear that up...

Well, today, he hands me some kind of handgun--I dunno what--and tells me it's not loaded. I say, "Great! How do I take the clip out?" He shows me, so I take the clip out and set it aside. Then he starts showing me the safety, the trigger, and telling me what all the parts are. Asks me how everything feels. I hold up the gun, making sure not to point it at anything, and test how the trigger feels.

BAM.

I hate surprises. Even before the gun hit the floor (I dropped it out of shock), I was already screaming at him. Poor Ron stood there and took it while I yelled at him, because suddenly I knew, looking at him, that he'd planted that bullet in the chamber (EDIT: he told me it was a blank, but still), he knew I didn't know how to check for it, and he knew I'd tried, but in my ignorance, hadn't known that clips leave a bullet in the chamber. I don't even remember most of what I screamed, but I know it's usually pretty abusive stuff when I get upset like that.

After my 5-minute-tirade, I took a deep breath, apologized, and we took a break before resuming. He's got one helluva cool head, to just stand there and take that kind of abuse without flinching. Found out his dad was some kind of drill sargent, so he's pry used to it... Even still, my hat's off to you, and I'll squeeze in one last apology, here...

I saw that coming, as soon as you said about removing the clip I knew what was gonna happen next.

Just remember: Guns are a tool. they are a tool designed for killing, just like a sword, except they do it at a distance. Knowledge of operating firearms and handling them safely only makes you and everyone you know safer. Harm done out of ignorance is no less deadly than harm coming of malice.

Glad to hear its going so well.

I haven't done physical wards in some time, but Ron couldn't maintain, upkeep, or reinforce the spiritual wards I use on my home... They're basically modified runes from the Elder Futhark alphabet that are commonly associated with protection, placed in strategic places around the insides of the outer walls of the building. I showed him how to paint each one, the directions each stroke should use, the colors to use, and how to activate each one. The one thing I haven't told him (yet) is that mixing a drop of blood into the paint will strengthen the wards by a good deal, making them nigh-unto impenetrable by everything that can't form a physical body of its own. As it is, the only other kinds of entities that could get in would be a possessing entity, while it's possessing a host body, and then only so long as it's possessing them. Other than that, the colors and each stroke's direction will keep the rune-wards charged, so that even those who aren't trained to channel energy will be protected from spiritual menaces.

I also started teaching him a few herbalistic and hollistic tricks, both for medicinal and for defensive purposes... Some of them were basic things, like burning sage to ward off all spirits (and to help repel some vampires and werewolves, but that could be, as Ron and I joked, because it smells like overly strong marijuana). I'm leaving him a book I no longer need to reference on hollistic medicine and defense. Hopefully, it'll be more useful than any notes I could leave him...

Gun training is going well. It's not terribly different from swordfighting; the biggest differences, besides the factoring in of range, are how you position your body, taking into account things to take cover behind, and, of course, the fact that swords don't scream or kick when you use them. Still getting used to that...

Heh... The shotguns. The first one Ron gave me was cool-looking, but my shoulder is still sore from the kick it put out... The 20-gauge doesn't hurt anywhere near as much. Problem being, I don't know how to conceal a shotgun like I could the pistol I was training with yesterday...

Ah, well. Things are going well. Now, should I get attacked by things more physical than I'm used to dealing with, I have one more weapon with which to defend myself, and Ron now knows how to stronghold a building against critters more ethereal than he's used to dealing with.

You should swing by the temple when you get back, KonThaak. I'll give you some pointers in less-lethal techniques.

Ron Caliburn wrote:I also have all his paperwork in so everything will be above board.

Good luck with that, man. Chi-town hates legal firearms.

Heh, good to hear from you, Willie. I will most certainly drop by the temple...and yeah, Chicago hates police, but there's been so many herbs and things in my car, 99% of which were legal, but 75% of what I've had so closely resembles illegal substances that I would've spent the night in a cell before they realized what any of it really was. And the other 1% was a one-time special case...

But yeah, I don't intend to give anyone a reason to search my car, anyway, and with the proper suppressors, even if an emergency comes up where I need it, noone needs to know that I used it; especially as I only intend to use it on the boogies that don't leave a trace when they die...

Against more mortal opponents...well, I'm not stupid enough to brandish a gun in the middle of one of the downtown gang-fights, but Ron's certainly teaching me enough about guns that should I find myself in that situation, I should be able to avoid being shot...and there is my armor spell for an added buffer in that situation. And I don't see really many situations where I would ever use a gun against a mortal opponent... Especially not when I was whining about killing werewolves on the off-chance that they might still be innocent while in their human forms and mindsets. XD Which Ron has reassured me several times is not the case...

"I'm more interested in taking the fight out there than waiting for it to come visit me at home. "

You said yourself, in another thread, its only a matter of time before something follows you home. If this affords even a modicum of protection, I'd say its well worth the effort.

Very true! I learned that Scotch Guard doesn't work 100% against demon goo.

It's not so much that I'm not used to grave so much as it is sleep deprivation 'cuz of my job. And it's only gonna get worse in the coming months. Just wait 'till December; by then, I'll be having nightmares about package cars and screaming customers...

Anywho, we hit the shooting range for a few hours. Ron went to help a customer while I stayed and practiced some more. I think I've mostly got the hang of this... It's not so bad. It helps, too, that I'm used to getting safety focus drilled into my brain constantly from work.

I'm talking about maybe not taking the shotgun back to Chicagoland... I don't give cops reason to search my car, but I don't see a need for it. I can't afford silver bullets for the handgun, let alone in elephant shot format, and I can't see myself needing a shotgun for anything short of a werewolf... Ah, well. Just rambling; things I've been talking off and on to Ron about, hope he knows I'm not trying to be ingrateful, and thought maybe someone else had some input...

Well, I remember Ron gave a compact shottie to a young kid who came around here a long while ago, had pyrokinesis. If he can hook you up with a small compact shotgun it might work out better for ya. As for ammunition, I'd just keep solid slugs for your shotgun (assuming you take one) and find someone to bless them (the ammunition) for you.

Always a possibility...

Y'know how I said that the wards would protect us from everything up to and excluding entities that could take on physical forms...? Well, last night, Ron proved his point about how little good that'll probably do him in the long run... We got a rude awakening around 3 in the morning (local time), 4 ghouls decided to throw us a party. They'd managed to bypass all security, and had it not been for my senses and Ron's being a light sleeper, they might've had us.

The buggers didn't let up, either... Took both of us covering each others' backs to take 'em all out. We still don't know how they managed to get through Ron's security, but I pointed out they couldn't've done it alone. Sure enough, right outside was a guy jumping into his car and driving away as quickly as he could. Ron identified the car as belonging to the customer who'd interrupted my training yesterday... We're gonna try tracking it, today, using both magical and mundane means. We'd've chased it last night, but by the time we could've gotten downstairs to one of our vehicles, he would've been gone...and, uhm...hawks don't do too well at night.

Ron Caliburn wrote: I keep Mr. Fluffers around as an early warning - though he's been spending more time with KT than with me - you can never trust a cat.

You never did mention who truly owns that cat or what his capabilities are. All cats I come across hiss and flee in terror, but yours seems to be possessed of a certain, shall we say, sentience above the norm.

Ron Caliburn wrote: Once we'd established a defensible position, he was able to

You broke up there. Did he simply make it into the panic room?

Ron Caliburn wrote: Hopefully we can neutralize the guy pretty quick.

Isn't it odd how you've suddenly been dragged into this, Mr. Caliburn? I don't think the fact that you were attacked by ghouls in your own home only when Konthaak was with you is mere coincidence. Is this man also causing the spirits to be restless? And it looks like he may have a knowledge of wards as well. Perhaps you are dealing with another druid. Have you any colleagues that are in direct competition with you, Konthaak, for whatever reason? And I am a little unclear about the proceedings after the panic room. Did you happen to destroy or own home, or were you just informing us of the panic button's function?

I'm glad you guys and Mr. Fluffers won the day. If you'd like, when I'm done with Celeste and Dante, I can come down and give you a hand. It wouldn't be any trouble for me setting up a few tripwires to trigger an alarm or fire off a flare or similar.

Well, if you'd like I can still come by when I'm done. With 3 of us we could at least take turns standing watch until the situation is resolved.

Okie dokie. If you need help at some point, just ask.

We're going out soon...

Celeste, you are right about one thing: This is most certainly odd. It's odd that, for the first time I've been staying in a building with less than adequate spiritual defenses, I get attacked. It's odd that the person who was behind the attack is from Chicagoland. It's odd that they managed to get four ghouls through all of Ron's defenses, a feat that even my magics can't accomplish. I swear that I had no more to do with this than you do the whole fiasco you're going through right now. Unless, of course, you *are* behind all that, and you're really trying to see how many Society members you can drag down with you...in which case, you can make a liar out of me, after all.

But I don't believe you really are. Maybe it's my tragic flaw, wanting to have faith in people, but I want to believe you're who you say you are. (Of course, who you say you are is still dangerous enough that I would carry things to protect myself from you, but given my general "relationship" with the undead, I would imagine you'd do what you could to protect yourself from me, too, should we ever meet in even a civilized setting.)

Now that that's addressed...

As Ron pointed out, the car was from Chicago--or rather, from Crystal Lake, a suburb of Chicago. We know what hotel he's staying at, and I went out a bit ago to check and make sure the car's there. It is. So we'll be leaving soon. When we go, I'll be bringing the handgun for protection, but I'll be using my claymore instead, provided our perp isn't packing Ron's kind of heat.

I just had a couple of notes on Mr. Fluffers before we go...

He's one of the most raggedy-ass cats I've ever come across. He's old, highly temperamental, and ugly enough that you'd probably rather stab your eyes out with sewing pins than look at him. For those reasons, he reminds me a lot of the first cat I grew up around, so I find all those traits irresistably endearing...

He's very clever, and, I suspect, probably has some psychic abilities of his own. Not something I can prove, just a hunch I have...

It's as if he's constantly calculating his next move... You can see the wheels turning behind those eyes, everything he looks at. He's almost got me wondering if he's a human under some sort of curse, or an elder druid who's decided to live out the remainder of his days as a cat...but those are just fanciful musings without proof.

We're heading out... I'm getting my claymore, Ron's getting his guns together.

Don't wish us luck; by the time we can get back to the boards, we won't need it. Instead, wish us congratulations for a job well done.

KonThaak wrote:I swear that I had no more to do with this than you do the whole fiasco you're going through right now. Unless, of course, you *are* behind all that, and you're really trying to see how many Society members you can drag down with you...in which case, you can make a liar out of me, after all.

Are you under the impression that I was insinuating you, Konthaak? Then I apologize for being inexplicit. I would think "Mr. Fluffers" would sense your intentions otherwise. I was insinuating that the events of the restless spirits and the ghouls are related! I have also adjusted my previous post as necessary. I wonder if there is another druid behind this, for whatever reason. Or a necromancer, or a mage, or whatever the case of magic-using castes there are. But I certainly believe it is someone very powerful, very knowledgeable, or both. Which is why you both should take extreme caution; if there is a height of paranoia either of you have yet to reach . . . then grab it! Too many have died on this forum already.

KonThaak wrote:Don't wish us luck; by the time we can get back to the boards, we won't need it. Instead, wish us congratulations for a job well done.

So . . . no luck goes with you, then; at least, no luck that you don’t already have or bring along for the ride. But I must hope that my trust that your skills will be sufficient to bring you out alive.

It's my fault Ron cut off where he did... Spent the day choking down soup (if I ever see another can of chicken noodle soup...), and trying to keep it down.

And thanks, Celeste, for clearing that up... Re-reading what I last posted in regards to you, I sounded quite a bit harsher than I'd intended to. I was aiming for some light humor, and now it hardly seems appropriate...

Mostly, today, I've just been disgusted to the point of nausea... Mostly at the necrophiles we were up against, but in no small part disgusted with myself... Disgusted for not seeing the possibility that Celeste pointed out before (the possibility that this necrophile was responsible for riling up all those spirits), and disgusted with myself for letting one of the perps get away...

But I'm jumping ahead of myself... We got to the top of the stairs, like Ron said. I told him to wait there... I shapeshifted into a fox (one of the perks of being a druid), and went a little ways down the hall... In that form, I was able to hear sounds I never want to hear again--the sound of ghouls feasting--and pinpoint which room they were in. I heard little if anything else of value, so I went back to Ron's position, shifted back, grabbed my sword and the handgun he'd given me, and told him where they were, keeping my voice lowered. Mr. Fluffers looked about ready to knock the door down, himself, by this point...

I'd been hoping so much for this guy to be smart and subtle...but such was not the case. I cast my armor spell over both of us, and we bumrushed the door, expecting it to be locked, trapped, or something...which, thankfully, it wasn't. I had my claymore in my hands, Ron had his gun out... We hadn't agreed on it like that, but we probably both figured that it was a wise idea to have all our bases covered.

The room inside had been redecorated, to say the least. There was a huge altar, with bones and goblets of fresh blood sitting atop it. The walls were covered in demonic symbols and images, painted in now-dried blood. The bed had been converted into some kind of operating table, where the top half of what looked like Frankenstein's Monster was lying. More body parts were strued around the bed, rotting, probably castoffs the necro decided were unworthy of being part of his little golem. The room was lit by human hands, dipped in wax with wicks running up the fingers...

The room wasn't unoccupied. There were about six or seven ghouls, five of the bastards eating the flesh-golem-castoffs near the bed, two of them huddled down in a corner... I noted two humans when we bust down the door, though one of them stepped back into the shadows and vanished, and Ron swears up and down there was only one guy in there...but none of that mattered to me when I saw what the two ghouls in the corner were huddled over.

She was pregnant...or had been, before these bastards got ahold of her. I lost almost all my vision for a second...all I could see was my wife, lying there in that bloody mess. I lost it. Completely and utterly. I started hacking into them, screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs... I remember hearing gunfire behind me, and hearing Ron shouting something... My sword wasn't doing me any good, but their claws were working away at my armor...

Then I remember hearing a voice, in the back of my head. I don't remember what it was saying, I just remember hearing it...and right after that, my claymore started hacking through the fuckers with ever-so-satisfying crunchy and flesh-rending sounds. I still don't know what the voice was, or where it came from, or what it did...

I still wasn't fully with it... I don't remember much of what happened next, just a lot of screaming--Ron's, my own, and the necromancer's. I remember gunshots. I don't remember dropping my sword, but the next coherent memory I have was screaming into the necro's face that he deserved worse than what I was giving him, before I put fourteen bullets through his head.

After that, I finally started to calm down... The ghouls were gone, the necromancer was dead...and out in the parking lot, the car was gone, too.

Which is why I'm pretty well convinced that I didn't imagine the second guy...

Target neutralized...?

I'll let Ron give a more coherent version of what happened...

Damn, now I really wish I'd have been there. But as long as the two of you (and Mr. Fluffers of course) made it out physically intact I'd call it a success.

I can't wait to hear Bert's AAR.

Bert_the_Turtle wrote:Damn, now I really wish I'd have been there.

No, trust me, you don't... The added backup would've been nice, but it was godawful... In addition to trying to get my appetite back today, I've been working on healing a number of deep scratches on myself, sustained when my armor finally gave out, at some point...

Nevertheless, it was not something I would wish someone else would've been there for. I'm sure Ron has seen nastier scenes than me, and this was still just...real bad mojo.

(Not to mention how embarrassing it is to admit to the fact that I have a mouth that would make most sailors ashamed to kiss their mothers with, but now Ron's gotten the "pleasure" of hearing me use it twice...)

Well, in that situation I probably would have waited with the car as backup and to keep anything from escaping into the general populous.