___Scawire___
Dunk hands you a steaming mug of tea with two sugars and heads off upstairs to bed.
The Epaper still needs more charge in it, but you prop youself on the edge of the sofa, as far as the charging cable will let you go.
The cameras rotate every 10 seconds, flicking from one to the next.
looks like invisible castle is no more!, had to use an alternative for this:
2 - 3 - 6 - 6 - 6 (Avg: 4,6). You spot a couple of large rat sized animals running across the road near the boulevard into a thicket of trees, but see no more activity on any of the cameras for the next couple of minutes.
Still staring at the displays, you realise you've finished your brew.
__Sillasion__
3 - 6 - 2 - 4 - 2 - 5 - 6 - 3 - 5 (Avg: 4,0) 4 hits.
The mana weaves and folds to your commands, causing everything almost to move in slow motion around you. This spell made you feel alive, the throbbing of the huge customised motorbike engine between your legs certainly helped too.
Deet takes the thumbs up and begins to bounce the throttle in rythm with the other bikes, a pulsing cacophony of methanol enhanced fuel and thousands upon thousands of horsepower erupts around you, the windows of the bar visibly shaking at the aural onslaught.
Alpha reaches into the air with a fat pistol of some kind and looses a few bright flares into the sky. The bike rockets forwards and the force of acceleration drops you backwards, clinging on to Deet for grim death he flashes a tusky grin over his shoulder and mouths "hold on!" at you.
The bikes roar out through the industrial park on the outskirts of Chelles' and down the high street past the Mega-Euromart. Traffic comes screeching to a halt as Alpha and the gang tear through the red lights, shouting obsceneties at the pedestrian, bicycle and road traffic as they open the throttle up down the long straight.
Eventually the whoops, cheers and jeers settle down as the formation thunders out the other side of the town, picking up a large boulevard out towards the motorway.
Alpha pulls the formation into a layby just short of a motorway over pass and gives a series of hand signals to the gang.
Everyone begins zipping up their bomber jackets, tucking in their fly guards and concealing their weaponry in stowage bags as best they can and shortly you're back on your way, swinging a right onto the motorway onramp. heading south east.
Its not long before your arse begins to get numb and you start to feel chilled to the bone. Most of the bikers have warm bomber jackets on or thick leather jackets with proper gloves, boots and helmets on. The thin skid-lid and goggles that Deet gave you don't help keep the cold at bay and the wind annoyingly starts to find the cracks between your clothing.
It's not long before your teeth are chattering as the formation ducks and weaves throughout the remnants of the morning's commuter traffic, though the further down the motorway you get, the emptier it becomes.
Its not long before the road surface begins to decline in quality and your formation is the only thing on it.
20 minutes down the road, the signs to towns become visibly rusty and large weeds spring out of the central reserve in the cracks in the tarmacadam road surface.
Large potholes in the road forced the bikers to duck and weave skilfully or face a brutal assault on their arse cheeks from their suspension
To your left and right, the villages and industrial parks look decrepit and abandoned, the fauna a strange shade of brown. Wherever the hell you were going, it certainly wasn't into civilisation
