The Perils of Paula

Dear Bob,

Okay, this isn't good. I don't know when or if I'll get the chance to ever get this to you, but I figure I'd better start documenting things now, just in case. With any luck, I'll merely use these notes to fill out the Villainous Contact report when I get back, and we can all have a good laugh... not that I'm having an easy time finding the humor in it all right now. Somehow, frantically scribbling while cramped in the back of a dimly lit room filled with jackbooted helmet-heads just doesn't feel very funny. Oh well, on the upside, perhaps my trip interruption insurance will reimburse the cost of my cruise!

Anyway, the short-form here is that we've been hijacked. If I'm remembering things right from way back in Orientation, they've got to be Arachnos... Wolf Spider units? It's hard to tell. They've got that red spider-like logo on the traditional "lookit me, I'm spooky" black paramilitary outfits, and the requisite "Fear Me or Die" bad attitude. What sets them apart from the gangs I've encountered back home is their level of professionalism; these are some pretty highly trained and disciplined guys, here. Whatever they hope to accomplish by rounding up a bunch of vacationers, it appears to be planned and executed with such precision that they just might pull it off. That concerns me.

What also concerns me is that I've been separated from the rest of the passengers into this room, along with about a half-dozen others. These other guys all look like they may have some mutation or powers of some kind, so I'm not sure what made them drag me into all this. Maybe I should have run around screaming like the other passengers so I didn't stand out? Ah well, next time.

Darn it, the boat's stopping, we must be "there", wherever that is. WML, fate willing.