In the early morning, just before dawn, the posse assembled to mount up.

Michaela and Rowan would be riding. Peter and Roadkill driving. That left (of the posse) Arthur, Col Schaeffer, Brother Edgar, Dakota, Smoker and Jane to be assigned positions in either the technical or the rig.

As well, they needed to decide who would go where in terms of vehicles (the bike and hoverbike, the rig and the technical).

The usual drill for traveling was to average 40 MPH for ten hours. They were travelling over 900 miles, so they should reach Near Wichita in the morning of the third day. The passengers assumed they would be traveling in the rig.

Neither Peter nor Roadkill were able to sleep that night. The terrors that haunted their separate dreams wouldn't allow it. They both felt sluggish and a touch delerious the next morning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:01, Sat 11 Sept 2010.

The ones she can not Identify are slung in the fire along with the other poisonous drugs, Rowan will not risk killing some one with an unknown drug.

Rowan smiles when the road Hawk comes back to her, "I thank theee both for the time you have spent in repair and maintainance, perhaps on this trip you can teach me basic maintainance, it would be good to know such things."
"But please what are the symbols carved it the tank?"

As Rowan stands by her road hawk she can be heard softly chanting

"May the road rise to meet me and mine"
"May the road be open before us "
"May the wind be always at our backs."
"May the sun shine gently upon our faces"
"May Goddess guide us gently on the way"

She turns slightly facing the settlement

"May the rains fall soft upon your fields."
"And until we meet again,"
"May Goddess hold you safe in the palm of her hand."

"So Mote it be"

Rowan hands flow in the patterns of blessing, her fingers trace lines in the air that for a moment just might have left a line behind them.
She looks at her bike, "valkery I name thee, you shall be my messenger in this world, and ride in this time and place"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:58, Sat 11 Sept 2010.

The Doomsayer awakens in a very thoughtful mood, pondering whatever heavy thoughts such a man might be given to ponder.  As everyone is being placed in their positions, Brother Edgar finds a moment to speak with Roadkill.  "Mr. Colby, would it be possible at all to make a stop in Truth or Consequences?  As I understand it, it should be along the route you have layed out."

It takes a moment for Brother Edgar's question to work it's way through the road warrior's sleep deprived brain. After a shake of his head to clear out the cobwebs Roadkill answers, "Huh? Oh... I suppose it might be. What did you want to do there?"

The Doomsayer glances over to wherever Smoker is getting ready, "Mr. Nix told me that the Eye was last seen there."  His attention moves back to Roadkill as he continues, "Those monsters were seeking that Eye and were willing to do terrible things to find it.  As they already hate me, as a so-called heretic, I believe that item would be safe enough with me."  He pauses, to make this point clear, "I don't want any other township to have to suffer for this relic as Las Cruces did."

Peter had seen them again. The same nightmare haunted his sleep off and on. It was always inevitable that it would show up, like clockwork. Especially for a while after combat usually. It started off like any other dream, quiet and sedate, almost pleasant. But Peter wasn't fooled. He knew right away what was coming, the feeling in his gut and the pounding of his heart spoke loudly. He tried to warn the family but he was locked inside the dream-body as it went about the same routine. Then, just before he woke up, the family would ask him over and over why he didn't save them, their bodies now corpses of the worst kind. And he would wake up lathered in sweat but freezing cold, and him letting out a hoarse yell or scream as he came into wakefulness.

Peter looked a bit haggard and acted irritably in the morning. He grumbled about wishing for coffee, his truck being slightly dinged up in one spot, and a host of other things that weren't really important. He tried not to snap at anyone and kept to himself for the most part.

May 06, 2094
Thursday, 0635 hours
Truth or Consequences, NM


Some of the Posse seemed to be having real trouble getting it in gear. Nonetheless, they managed to straggle out on the road not longer after sunup. As per the previous day, the rig preceded the armed technical. As well, Rowan and Michaela acted as outriders, riding in front.

Peter and Jane crewed the technical, with Arthur riding in back. Roadkill, Brother Edgar rode in the cab of the rig, as did Smoker and Dakota (to keep out of sight). Schaeffer hung out on top in the fighting position to the rear of the van trailer where he had a remarkable field of view.

It was roughly a 2-hour drive north along I-25 from Las Cruces/Shalam Colony to Truth or Consequences, NM. Below them in the canyon flowed the brown waters of the Rio Grande.

0830 Hours.

WELCOME TO TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES
POPULATION: 89

The settlement was in the west central part of Old Truth or Consequences. When the Elephant Butte damn was destroyed upstream by a LatAm orbital strike, the raging floodwaters of the Rio Grande wiped out most of the old town. Once the river waters receded the course of the river had changed so that it continued to flow through the ruins and formed a small lake in the middle of the downtown.

The town of Truth or Consequences now had a population of 89, a half-dozen or so blocks sitting on the shore of the downtown lakeside surrounded by a moat of water diverted from the Rio Grande. A militia in a Kevlar vest and Police shotgun waved them across the connecting bridge off Broadway to inside the perimeter. She clearly was a mutant, with a leathery face under a camouflage boonie hat.

There were businesses and shops in the settlement to serve the surrounding farms. As well, there was a hotel and bar that featured a hot springs and casino.

The convoy stopped close to the Marshall's office (in the former Firewater Lodge) so that Brother Edgar could look for the Eye of Hiroshima at its last known location. Smoker and Dakota Jack stayed in the truck cab (sitting at the folding table in the sleeper compartment playing cards).


New Map:

http://tinyurl.com/2auqmc8
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:42, Wed 15 Sept 2010.

"What do you advise, Brother Edgar?  I'd rather we get this Eye business over with, considering the misunderstandings we've had in this town."

Truthfully Arthur Dayne gave not one whit for the games of Doomsayers, but whatever this Eye was, it was a problem that needed to be dealt with.  Arthur sighed deeply, hoping the "outlaws" were smart enough to keep their heads down.

Climbing down from the rig cab, Brother Edgar set about adjusting his robes and smoothing them out as best he could.  He glances up as Arthur approaches and asks his question.  With a bit of a smile, the Doomsayer answers, "I intend to speak with the sheriff and be quite honest about my intentions here in his town.  After all, this is /Truth/ or Consequences."  He looks over to the lawman's office and begins to head that way, "Hopefully, we can avoid any misunderstandings that way and, thus, suffer no harmful consequences."  He would first approach any militia (if another mutant is present, he would choose that one) posted outside the door, bowing his head politely, "Greetings.  I would like to speak with your Sherrif if he has time for a traveller's questions."

"Careful Brother Edgar."  The Templar informs him on the sly.  "I know from my experiences before the authorities in this town are not to be trusted.  Truthfully these people are corrupt and unworthy."

Rowan sits on her bike casually looking around, as she waits for the good Brother to deal with his business in town.
As she watches events unfold around her she can be heard quietly humming an old song to herself

There was a "doomed" militia standing in front of the Sheriff's office. He looked Brother Edgar up and down.

"Ah, sure. Just go inside, ask for Sheriff Vandee."

Inside, the Sheriff was sitting at his desk. He a younger man in his 30's, and introduced himself by the name Alan Vandee. He was also an obvious mutant, with skin covered with radiation scars and purple and green flashburns (keloids). He wore fine clothing, new-looking snakeskin boots, gold chains and a gold watch as if to make up for his otherwise hideous appearance.

"So, what can I do you for?" he asked in an ingratiating manner.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #12):

Brother Edgar bows his head respectfully to the sheriff, folding his hands before him.  Offering a calm smile, he answers, "My name is Brother Edgar Coombs and I am looking for an item which was last seen in your settlement.  A lens, a monocle perhaps, of indeterminate origin.  Last seen in the hands of a young man who may have run afoul of your militia."  Lifting a brow of curiousity the Doomsayer looks over the sheriff, "Does this sound familiar?"

Roadkill shuts down the engine to preserve on fuel while he waits for Brother Edgar to conduct his investigation. He hoped that it would be quick (he still had a convoy to catch up with) and almost comments on it to his passengers in the back of the cab but decides against it in order to not draw attention to the fact that the cab had some extra occupants.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #13):

Vandee looked puzzled. "Ah, can't say I recognise that... wait, yeah, I remember that thing. Belonged to a little thief named Nix, right? Uh, as I recollect, we dumped his bag out when we searched it, then put everything back in. I swear, we didn't take nothin'. That punk took off ...

Tony is the cutest man in the whole wide wide stinkin' world. He iz teh kewlest.

He is laughing at me 'cause I'm ...

just a little bit toasted.


...with another polecat named Dakota Jack Vermillion we had in the hoosgow. We ain't seen either sidewinder since. You a friend of Nix's?"

Brother Edgar thought Vendee was something of a shallow flashy individual, but likely telling the truth.

Marshall's Note: embedded comment courtesy of my wife, Michelle.

Peter stayed in his truck while he watched Edgar go do his thing. He lit up a cigarette and slowly took drags on it while he waited. But he kept his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of trouble...or suspicious activity. He didn't want to get ambushed again. Every once in a while he'd glance back at Jane.

Jane was too busy looking out of the truck searching for any potential signs of trouble to notice Peter. Considering what she had heard the others say about this town she was suspicious, waiting for problems to arise. She may be wrong but as the expression went, better take precautions than get stabbed in the back.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #15):

Brother Edgar muses over this information a bit, absently answering, "I am uncertain /friend/ is the right word." Setting his musing aside, he explains a bit, "It came to my attention that Doomsayer Priests loyal to Rasmussen were seeking this item and this Nix.  I met him near Pantano Station and he indicated that he last saw the lens here...."  Edgar pauses, attempting to give the appropriate weight to his next words, "I have helped stop one group of these fallen priests, after they destroyed a settlement.  They mean to find this lens and destroy anything that stands in their way.  If I found my way here, they may as well..."

OOC - Continuing that Scrutinize on him as long as you'll allow it to stand.  Reroll in necessary.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #18):

Sheriff Vandee shrugged and leaned back in his office chair, rolling a cigarett.

"I'm glad to help you out however I can, Brother. Say, is there some kind of reward if I do find it? Just askin', y'understand. And what settlement did these "fallen priests attack? Were they dressed like you but in green? A bunch of them rode by here yesterday, but they didn't stop."

Done rolling, his lit the cigarette.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #19):

A brow is lifted a bit at the inquiry of a reward.  Brother Edgar's smile fades a bit, heading towards a look of admonishment.  Taking a deep resigned breath, the Doomsayer continues, "I have no reward to offer.  Only to take a potential threat to your settlement away.  Those who passed by were the group I  had a hand in stopping."  A pause for emphasis, "They may not be the last.  They burned out a settlement to the south, near the ruins of Las Cruces.  Crucified the defenders."

Vandee held up his hands.

"Hey, no harm in a feller asking if there's a reward!"

"That's mighty fine thing takin' care of those bastards. I'm sorry to hear about Las Cruces, I'll head down today and see if there's anything we can do."

"As for your doo-hickey, good luck findin' it, and happy trails Brother. Good day."

He sat back, indicating that to him, the interview was over.

"May the light of the Glow, lead you to a bright Future," offers Brother Edgar in return.  Folding his hands before him again, he makes a slight bow.  Propriety met, he turns to make his way out of the office and the building.  If unmolested, he'll go straight back to the Rig.

Popping open the passenger door of the cab, he'll clamber inside.  For the moment, keeping his thoughts to himself, though he offers for Roadkill's benefit, "The sheriff had little to offer and so, I suppose, my business here is done.  Thank you again for allowing the detour."

Rowan watches the good Brother come out of the sheriffs office as usual his body language is difficult to read, but he does not look happy to her, oh well maybe he will tell her about it later, Rowan starts her bike up and gets ready to leave the area when every one is ready.

Rowan
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:45, Sat 18 Sept 2010.

Without much else to do there, the convoy got ready to move out. As they were doing this, the Sheriff exited the jail and moseyed over to the truck. He was wearing a shoulder rig with an M-80 pistol, and he put his cowboy hat on as he shrugged into his coat.

Vandee looked up at Brother Edgar in the cab.

"Say, I'm just about to head on out to Las Cruces, see if those folks need anything. You're welcome to have a look in the jail for your thingy. Just let Ray at the front desk know what you're up to."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:54, Sat 18 Sept 2010.

"No prob Ed," Roadkill says as he fires up the engine and gives a hand signal out the window to the others to let them know that they're ready to move out.

But when the sheriff comes over to talk to Brother Edgar and offer him the chance to look around the jail Roadkill cuts the engine again so that the two can hear each other speak. When Edgar looks at Roadkill he shrugs and gives him a look as if to say, 'go ahead, you might as well.'
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:36, Sun 19 Sept 2010.

The Doomsayer settled in as the rig roared to life, considering his options.  The sight of the sheriff coming out of his office shook him from the reverie though.  As rig shut down again, Brother Edgar popped open the door of the cab to hear the sheriff's offer.  Glancing back to Roadkill and catching the driver's assent, he lowered himself out of the cab again, "Thank you, Sheriff Vandee.  I /would/ like to have a look."  Upon reaching the ground, he glances around to see what convoy companions might be nearby, "Would you mind if one of my traveling companions accompanies me?  A second pair of eyes and hands would make faster work."

The Colonel stepped up to Brother Edgar's side. He'd gotten down from his perch atop the trailer shortly after they had reached the town. Though he couldn't put his hand on it, he had a bad feeling about the place.

"I'll be coming with you Brother, ja? As you said, vier Augen sehen mehr als zwei²"

Shaeffer continues to scan his surroundings for danger or anything seemingly out of place.




²Four eyes see more than two.

Rowan watches as the mode seems to alter slightly her eyes scan for trouble looking for a bird that she can ask to take a look around for her

Whistling an unknown tune, Marshall Vandee went along his way, ambling over to talk to the militia at the gate.

Climbing down, Col Schaeffer met with Brother Edgar and they retraced his earlier steps. They disappeared into the building.

Scanning the area, Rowan and Roadkill noticed the militia at the gate talking into a landline phone. A few minutes later, a half-dozen armed militia converged on the front gate. Vandee started talking to the small group, and he emphasised what he was saying by pointing at the convoy. Rowan spotted a large crow sitting on a powerline, about a half-block away. She knew she would have to attract its attention and use a bit of food to make friends.

After a few minutes searching the foyer of the evidence room under the watchful eye of Ray the deputy, Brother Edgar and Col. Schaeffer found what looked to be a monocle or eyepiece that matched the description of the Eye... and Brother Edgar's dream.

Returning outside, they noticed Vandee and the posse of armed militia approaching their vehicles. However, their posture seemed relaxed and their weapons (both modern and cap-and-ball reproductions) were either not in hand or carried at low-ready.

Rowan is about to call the birds attention when she notices the gathering of law men.
Under her breath she chants
"Winds power and Earths might, strike swiftly at their sight"
If nothing happens then Rowan relaxes

Peter had been looking around, hoping to not have trouble start. He too noticed the posse, however, and frowned with narrowed eyes. "That looks like trouble. Jane. Heads up, lady. I think we are about to get...searched."

Dakota Jack smiles his signature smile.  "Good, I was 'a gettin' mighty bored Smokey."

Pulling his boots back on, Dakota sticks his head into the cab from the sleeper.  "I don't s'pose this jalopy's got a back door?"

Upon finding the eyepiece, Brother Edgar wrapped it carefully in a scrap of cloth from a pouch and gently placed it inside.  The Colonel would not that he didn't seem to look on the object with "reverence" as one might a religious relic, but more concerned curiousity.  Job seemingly complete he follows the Colonel back outside, noting, "Thank you, now to find a way to stop those marauding bands from hurting anyone else while looking for this lens..."

Upon stepping outside, he too spots the gathering of militia.  The sight seems to concern the Doomsayer little enough, though he keeps a wary eye on them anyhow.  Just in case.  The sight of the convoy crew quietly shifting into "ready" mode makes him a bit more concerned though.  Quietly, to the Colonel, he notes, "The Marshal did say he was going to check on the Shalam Colony.  To see if they could help them get set back up...  Perhaps that's just the group that's going?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I had a bad feeling about this place right from the start. Lets see if my instinct was right."

Shaeffer carried his M4 in it's customary position on a patrol type sling on across his chest. He stopped walking for a second, let Brother Edgar pass and using the good brother's body as a shield from visual observation switched the rifle's safety off. Then he quickly caught up to Brother Edgar again, though this time he walked by his right side to be able to shield him while firing his weapon.

Roadkill watches the approach of the sheriff through his side mirror. Even though Roadkill had "gone straight" the sight of an approaching lawman with a posse set off the road warriors warning bells. The fact that he had a couple of fugitives in the back probably had a large part to do with that but he also couldn't help but start asking himself if he had ridden through here in his outlaw days. No, they had mostly stuck to the midwest back then but the approaching lawman still made him uncomfortable. Nothing he couldn't handle mind you, but it's still enough to make the trucker pull out "Ol' Faithful" his trusty sawed off shotgun and hold it casually in his lap below the window line where it shouldn't be visible from the ground.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #33):

Luckily, the Sheriff/Law Dog was diverted by Brother Edgar and the Colonel just before he could see a fugitive wanted for, among other things, breaking out of his jail, was there in the cab of the truck that was pulled up right in front of him. The chance was small because the windows had been replaced by armoured shutters, although those shutters had been pulled up for the sake of ventilation.

"Brother Edgar! Me and the boys were about to head out. Did you find what you were looking for? Is that bastard Mendoza still in charge down there? The road down to Las Cruces clear?"

Unfortunately, Edgar knew that Law Dog Mendoza had been killed, but at least the road was clear insofar as they had traveled up it that morning.

In the back of the Technical, Jane kept her cool, lounging against the Ma-Deuce. Firing such a weapon at close quarters might be counterproductive at best, so she wasn't committed to using it at this time. Rowan sat alertly on the hoverbike's padded saddle seat, everyone else save Smoker, Arthur and Michaela seemed to be similarly preparing in some way to react to trouble.

Roadkill didn't need to be specifically worried from most Law Dogs; he'd been pardoned by what passed for their organisation at the behest of Fast Eddie and the Convoy. That didn't mean a corrupt Law Dog like Vandee couldn't make trouble if he felt like it, trumping up some kind of charge. For example, Smoker had run afoul of the anti-looting law, scavenging in the ruins without a permit.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #36):

Brother Edgar moves a bit quicker to intercept the Marshal as he is hailed.  Not a military man, but his survivor sense tells him this could go very bad, very quickly.  His face betrays nothing but his practiced calm however.  In answer, he nods, "The road is clear as far as I am aware.  But, Sheriff Mendoza died defending his town...  A brave man, so I am told.  His light will be missed in the Bright Utopia."

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #37):

Vandee cynically raised an eyebrow by didn't comment on Brother Edgar's pious remarks, but they served their distracting purpose and were still heartfelt.

"Too bad about Medoza, he did protect his people so I can't say I'm glad to hear he's gone."

He sighed, shaking his head. An old van with light armoured plating rolled up from behind the police station and wheezed to a stop. "All right boys, here's the Mayor now. We can be there by noon if we leave now."

The militia started loading supplies, otherwise ignoring the convoy members as they got sorted out. No one offered to introduce them to the Mayor. The drawbridge remained down, waiting for them to cross it and hit the road again.

Rowan waits for the Good brother to indicate they are leaving

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #39):

Strictly speaking, the convoy was ready to roll immediately. Both the semi and the technical had enough fuel to make it to Near Wichita. Neither the hoverbike nor the sportbike did, but they could draw enough fuel (about 14 gal) from Roadkill's tanks to get them there. The fuel had been provided free by the survivors of Shalam Colony for all of them to share.

Distance to Near Wichita from Las Cruces: 940 miles.

Vehicle:      Fuel Cap. x MPG =   Range

Hoverbike      3 gal.     100    300 mi.
Sport Bike     3 gal.      80    240 mi.
Semi          50 gal.      20   1000 mi.
Pickup     30+20 gal.      30   1500 mi.

Clearly, if they didn't want to waste time in refueling, picking up a few 5-gal. jerrycans some place to increase the bikes' ranges to meet that of the other vehicles clearly wouldn't hurt.

The good Brother Edgar nods, lifting a hand up in peaceful salute to the Marshal and his men, "May the light of the Glow bless you.  Through such cooperation and care we pave the road to the Bright Utopia."  Blessing thus offered, the Doomsayer heads for the cab of the truck and climbs back in again, ready to roll.

"Alright, let's ride then," Roadkill says as he starts up the engine once again and starts heading for the exit.

"Find what you were lookin' for?" the trucker asks Brother Edgar without taking his eyes off the road.

The convoy slowly pulled out of the lot and crossed the bridge past the town moat/perimeter. They headed out on the open road, hoping to make up the lost half-hour. Not a big deal overall, but sometimes every minute counted.

As the ride out Rowan slips the marbles back into a side pouch.
Then turns to her fellow rider, "I do not get it what the heck were that bunch aiming to do.
"There are no outlaws waiting for them at the town and the town is not in need of their aid".
"So why the heavy show of force"?

In reply to Roadkill (msg #42):

Brother Edgar nods lightly, "Perhaps so.  Either it is the sought after lens or it was planted to get rid of me.  Either way, I feel I have gotten all that I may out of that town."

Riding belongside her, Michaela answered, "I don't know, Rowan. There's no way to tell except follow them.

"I can't see what they would gain from attacking Las Cruces, either. It's a dangerous world, maybe with the guns and militia escort they're just playing it safe?"

The sport bike bounced a little on its tyres and rode down its shocks as it rolled over the metal plating of the drawbridge. She noted the hoverbike didn't have that problem due to its air cushion.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:12, Sun 26 Sept 2010.

The passengers (the widow, her children and the mutant) going to Near Wichita were settled into the back of the trailer. It wasn't too pleasant being in a barren trailer and there was nothing to see, but at least it was safe.

On top of the trailer facing the rear, Col. Schaeffer noted that volunteers were coming forth from the community, brining supplies and donations for the mayor to bring to Las Cruces. Bringing up the rear in the back of the technical, Jane and Arthur also noticed this display of generosity. Still, there was no way to check what was going to happen next, and it was time to hit the road.

Soon, they were through the silt-choked ruins of Truth-or-Consequences and merging onto the debris-littered freeway that passed above the town.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:41, Sat 25 Sept 2010.

Rowan rides her hair blowing free in the wind and Michelle can hear her singing as she rides

Oh I'd rather go and journey where the diamond crest is flowing and
Run across the valley beneath the sacred mountain and
Wander through the forest
Where the trees have leaves of prisms and break the light in colors
That no one knows the names of

And when it's time I'll go and wait beside a legendary fountain
Till I see my form reflected in it's clear and jeweled waters
And if she thinks I'm ready
She will lead me to the chasm where the rivers of our vision
Flow into one another

I will want to die beneath the white cascading waters
They may beg, they may plead, they may argue with their logic
And then they'll know the things I learned
That really have no value in the end they will surely know
I wasn't born to follow.

Rowan rides happy
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Sat 25 Sept 2010.

"That is kinda strange," Roadkill observes as they ride out of town and down the road. "One second they tell you they ain't got it and the next they tell you to check the office and it's just sitting there."

"Ah well," he finishes with a shrug, "at least you got it now, right?"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #48):

Michaela smiled at Rowan's joy at being on the road and gunned the Viper to keep up with her. "Ride on, girl!"

In the rig, Smoker confirmed that the Brother had picked up the right item.

Now that they were on the open road, the convoy picked up speed but stayed at around 40-50 MPH due to obstacles and damage to the concrete pavement.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:17, Sun 26 Sept 2010.

Rowan grins.

For once no one is shooting at her, no one is judging her.
Perhaps you prefer

Get your motor running'
Head out on the highway
Looking' for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah friend' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racing' with the wind
And the feeling' that I'm under
Yeah friend' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die

Born to be wild
Born to be wild

Rowan lets her voice fall silent and rides for a short while wondering if any where on earth is left as a paradise, where no one is hunted, killed or abused simply for the want of it, or for their belongings.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:14, Sun 26 Sept 2010.

As the convoy finally makes it out onto the highway, Brother Edgar slowly regains a better mood.  He does his best to entertain those in the truck cab with a story or two (that just might happen to have a vague lesson in them).  Somewhere along the journey, the good Brother would show some beneficial uses of the Glow by heating up a mug of water in his hands.  Useful for chicory coffee or tea on the drive.  The trick also works for heating up some of the foodstuffs.  If asked, he would explain that microwave ovens in the World the Was channeled the Power of the Atom in such ways.  The benevolent Glow can be a comfort for those willing to see it so.

He would also, along the way, study the lens, The Eye of Hiroshima.  Perhaps it does have some link to the Truth of the Bomb...

Immediately North out of Truth or Consequences, they passed by the shattered remains of the Elephant Butte Dam. Destroyed in the war, the reservoir behind it drained into the canyon below, flooding out the city they just left. Now the empty reservoir was just a wide flat spot on the Rio Grande.

As they traveled, Brother Edgar studied the Eye. Despite prayer and meditation, it didn't seem extraordinary, except of course for its potential religious and historical significance.

Rowan and Michaela enjoyed their ride. It was a scorching hot day, of course, but there was no traffic and the road was reasonably clear. There was a little greenery along the river banks but sere mountains, red buttes and rugged brown hillsides towered above them.

About three and a half hour later, they approached the ruins of Albuquerque. Above it floated something they'd all seen before: the swirling green-tinted funnel of a Ghost Storm over the downtown.

Peter kept himself as cool as he could as they drove. He wasn't a huge fan of extreme temperatures either way, hot or cold, but he grew up in places where both could show up easily enough so he got used to them. It didn't affect him as much as others might be, but it still didn't make a comfortable ride. He had even gone so far as to offer Jane a place in the cab out of the sun (not that it was unusual for him to offer her that spot), but she so far had declined.

Rowan gazes at the effect of the ghost storm and turns to Michelle.
" You know of the many things I have seen in my travels that is propabily one of the most disturbing".
"I really do not want to go any where near it"
Rowan shudders at the thought
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:51, Mon 27 Sept 2010.

"Yeah, I'm not real keen on driving through that," Roadkill remarks wryly as he stares at the swirling ghost storm. "No offense Brother Edgar but I'm not real eager to get 'chosen' today."

With that said, Roadkill begins looking for a detour that would allow them to bypass the bombed area of Albuquerque.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #56):

"Yeah, I'm not real keen on driving through that," Roadkill remarks wryly as he stares at the swirling ghost storm. "No offense Brother Edgar but I'm not real eager to get 'chosen' today."

Rowan grins mischievously. "Ah now the question to that answer is of course chosen by whom and what".
"Now I will agree that being chosen by the atom seems to me to be a little to life changing".

Rowan watches the storm for a few miniutes
"Reminds me of the song by Johny Cash"

An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty herd of red eyed cows he saw
A-plowing through the ragged sky and up the cloudy draw

Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel
Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky
For he saw the Riders coming hard and he heard their mournful cry

Yippie yi Ohhhhh
Yippie yi yaaaaay
Ghost Riders in the sky

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all soaked with sweat
He's riding hard to catch that herd, but he ain't caught 'em yet
'Cause they've got to ride forever on that range up in the sky
On horses snorting fire
As they ride on hear their cry


As the riders loped on by him he heard one call his name
If you want to save your soul from Hell a-riding on our range
Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride
Trying to catch the Devil's herd, across these endless skies

Rowan shakes her self

"Ah well lets find a way around shall we before that thing comes a hunting us."

Peter slowly turns to look at Rowan with a look of stunned incredulity. "What is it with you and singing songs and reciting poetry, especially at the oddest times? You are such a strange bird." He shakes his head a little before turning to look back at the storm. "Is there a way around it? There is not always. But we can always hope and try."

In reply to Roadkill (msg #56):

Brother Edgar lifts his head slowly from his quiet prayer begun at the first sight of the Ghost Storm.  "Whenever one says no offense, they are admitting that they know what they are about to say is probably offensive."  That said, he slowly takes his eyes off the cloud and looks to Roadkill with a bit of a smile, "But no offense was taken."  He looks back to the swirling clouds of the storm again, "Becoming Chosen is not a choice we make.  It is the Will of the Glow.  Yes, it is, by definition, life changing.  Its is world changing.  Future changing."  With a shrug, he finishes for the benefit of whomever might still be listening, "You may not choose changes that come upon you in life, but how you handle change is always your choice."

Rowan in completely serious voice
"Because it is how I teach and remember things Peter".
"With in my perception of life it is a great song."
"And to teach the story of life, One must understand the beauty of its music and the complexity of the poetry".
"Life is the class room along the path of existence.
"A stop between one point and another". "What we learn and do in this class room echoes down life's path".
"This is the truth of it, I am sorry my actions disturb you"

Rowan bows slightly, and turns away from the group, clearly upset at what she perceives as a rebuke.

Damn it she thinks to her self has no one out here, ever seen a circle of the way in operation.
She hugs her self.
Oh I wish I wish that my people I learnt, with were here to share the path.
Rowan feels so very alone suddenly.

Rowan

Peter waves a hand towards Rowan, as if to dismiss away the thoughts. "It's fine, I suppose. You just burst into monologues and song sometimes seemingly randomly. Reminds me of Wizard of Oz." He chuckles at that before turning back to Roadkill.

Rowan turns slightly hearing over her shoulder her friends words and nods in agreement.
Suddenly she is so tiered of hiding and flips her holy symbol where it can be seen by all.
"Ever the path and the choices along it Brother Edgar."
"You see the hand of the Atom in the choice, I see the hand of the goddess"
What matters it what we call the choice and what we believe in, in the end all prayers and hopes given in good faith go to the light"

And then turns and shuts her self off again, from the group.

Michaela said with some sympathy, "don't sweat it, sister. His kind turned away from nature and the Old Ways, and look what it gained them? Deadwood is the deadest city on Earth now, or so they say."

She looked at the holy symbol. "What's that?"

They were stopped about ten miles away from the storm, but it was big enough to see the top over the burned trees and shattered buildings.

In point of fact Peter and Jane had met up in a truck stop to the north of Albuquerque, and most of the other Posse members (save for Rowan and Brother Edgar) had been through the area recently, but going north-south and not east-west.

Fortunately, Roadkill knew how to bypass the storm and reach the pass in the Sandia mountains to the east so they could continue towards their eventual goal. He was confident they could make Tucumcari by 5 PM or thereabouts. The town was only empty ruins, but they could probably find some kind of shelter for the night.

Rowan
 "It represents the 5th Pentacle of the Moon - Feminine Power"
 "It was consecrated before I was part of a coven back east".
"Before the government as it was then, started hunting us down".

Rowan shakes her head trying to dismiss the shear frustration she is feeling.

"I have met no other of the covens in my wanderings"

"As for my friend Brother Edgar",
" He speaks truly and with care as he perceives the truth, and I can not fault him on that".

"The Goddess moves in many ways Michaela, by air if we care to listen. by the warmth of the sun that shines on us."
"And in the countenance of the moon at night as she gases down on us".

Rowan pauses a moment

"Yet in all of this, Only two laws are passed down as guidance"

The first is simple

"An It Harm None, Do As Ye Will".

The next is a little more complicated

We call it the Threefold Law, to us it is the basic working philosophy of belief.

"To us the number three symbolizes one of the magical processes involved; that the spell is invoked and thus sent out into the energy of the universe. this energy then comes back into world to manifest in the desired way, before reverberating in the life of the person working the magic to the power of three. thus, what you give out, you'll get back, only threefold.

"This is a natural law, but also an obvious incentive to witches to keep their magic positive, life-affirming and harmful to none". "to us it is not religious dogma, but a natural and integral fact of Wiccan life".

Rowan looks back out across the waste lands for a moment
"I am a Paramedic, I am of the Wiccan way and I guess a wanderer"
Then turns back and bows slightly
"I hope that explains me Michaela"
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:02, Fri 01 Oct 2010.

In a flat voice
"I am glad it entertains you"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #66):

"It does explain what you are about a bit better, thanks. I'm Catholic, but I understand and don't hold others' beliefs against them.

"As for him," she rolled her eyes towards Peter, "don't let him get under your skin. We need a bit of faith, of spirituality in this world."

She took a sip of water from her canteen, washing the dust from her mouth as they planned a way around the Ghost Storm and through the pass to the east.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:31, Fri 01 Oct 2010.

Rowan smiles,
" Do you know a strange thing, most people I have talked to in the covens recognize that a great teacher existed in Judea at that point in history". "He had to be great he changed the way man kind thought".
"Was he the son of God, heck I do not know there is no proof that is what faith is all about"
"I suppose in the end it is a case of 'leave others to their otherness'"

Brother Edgar listens to the theological discussions quietly, seeming satisfied with their content and having little to add at the moment.  Most of his attention remains with the swirling storm across the ruined city.  As a servant of the Glow and the Bomb, it is difficult not to be enthralled at the sight of fragments of the Day of Change still roiling with power.

Michaela nodded.

She was distracted by what she could see around her. A slight sign of sadness could be read from the back of her eyes. The talk about religion reminded the young woman about the texts she had read in the bible. The description of judgement day, the time humanity would finally be judged for its crimes.

The world definitely seemed to be ending. For the hundreth time, she had to wonder whether how long this judgement would last? When god would finally decide that humanity had been judged enough and would finally impart salvation?
This message was last edited by the player at 00:59, Sat 02 Oct 2010.

Jane was standing watch at the back of the truck waiting for any signs of trouble.

She didn't like this place, something was not quite right...

Rowan reads at the pain in her friends eyes and suddenly impulsively steps close and gives her a quick hug.

"Remember friend in the teaching of your bible the love of God is infinite".
"It is not the above ones fault, that the world is not yet ready to repair its self."

Rowan stands close.
"Once men and women of good faith learn that it is only they who can repair the world, we will see a change in the earth".

She smiles wistfully. "My father was a great Tolkien fan"
"He once towards the end quoted a passage to me"

"For the world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air. "

"Come on friend time to be on our way"
Rowan
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:37, Sat 02 Oct 2010.

"If you says so," Roadkill says with a shrug. He wasn't being disrespectful, he just wasn't the kind of person who thought much about such things. He was a practical man who had spent the last 13 years just looking to survive and find his next meal. He hadn't given much thought to philosophy and he didn't much understand it either. To him things just were the way they were.

ooc: Going to keep driving until we reach that next campsite.

Mounting up, they crossed the waters of the Rio Grande (again) south of the city on the Intestate bridge. Always, the malignant funnel over the downtown grew closer, green flashes flickering up and down. The Ghost storm enclosed the intersecting areas of I-25 and I-40 and even encompassed the airport, so they had to find a bypassing route.

Fortunately, Roadkill knew the way the Convoy and the Road Gangs used to bypass it. Exiting the freeway they took surface roads and even traversed the desolate expanse of Kirtland CAFB. Again people were nervous at the eerie devastation. Finally, they were through the ruins and back on the Interstate, climbing up towards the pass in the Sandia Mountains, through the charred remains of Cibola National Forest.

After passing a few towns on the far eastern side of the pass, they descended onto the arid rolling plains of eastern New Mexico. Rugged mountains and red mesas loomed in the distance to the north and south. They finally made Tucumcari by early evening. A wind was blowing up, driving sand across the road on the outskirts of the dead town. Behind the buildings loomed the treeless massif of Tucumcari mountain.






A mile out of town, Rowan and Col Schaeffer realosed that a dust storm was brewing up. They needed to find shelter within a minute or so or risk being caught out on the road while the visibility plunged to zero. They could always survive in their vehicles easily enough but further travel would be impossible, or at least very dangerous.




Formerly a part of Route 66, Tucumcari was the only real shelter between Amarillo and Albuquerque. Roadkill had stopped here before. Typically, the Convoy would occupy several of the many, many motels that dotted the town. As the light dropped and the wind increased steadily, he was unsure he could remember the usual laager area, but he could try.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:23, Mon 04 Oct 2010.

Micheala nearly jumped as Rowan hugged her. She was deep in her thoughts and wasn't expecting anyone to approach her. She was grateful for the support and did her best to push back her negative thoughts. "Thank you." She was silent for a moment before finally responding to Rowan's thoughts. "You are right. As the expression goes, there is light at the end of the tunnel. "

Micheala got on her bike and rode towards the front of the convoy checking out for possible ambushes.

 Rowan Mounted her bike and rode out with Micheala.
Saying nothing more, in this time and place it is done runs her thought.

"Which way Road kill"? she yells to him

Roadkill surveyed the situation. It was still a mile or so to town and the safety of the hotels he remembered, but the dust storm looked like it could envelope them at any minute. The cautious thing to do might be to stop where they were and hole up inside the cab and the trailer until the storm passed by, but Roadkill was too tempted by the challenge of beating the storm to town.

Roadkill floors the gas and speaks into the CB, "There's some old hotels just ahead. If we're quick we might be able to make it," he shouts over the roar and mournful wails of the rig's giant ghostrock fueled engines.

ooc: Man, this ride could really suck for the COL.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #78):

Searching his memory, Roadkill remembered a motel where he'd taken shelter during a scouting mission with Fast Eddie, his Trucker mentor (R.I.P.).

"Follow me, I know a place! We gotta beat feet so hang onto your hat, Colonel!"

It seemed his driving was inspired, as he put the hammer down and rolled like thunder down the freeway. He honked at Rowan and Michaela, in the lead, and they got the hell out of the way.

Up top, Schaeffer noted the worsening weather and the increased speed and so made sure his gear was secured and he was low, behind the sides of the fighting position. It wasn't too uncomfortable for him, though, as he simply put on his Infantry Battlesuit Helmet, slid the face mask down and engaged the CBR filter.

They screamed down the off-ramp, dodging wrecks and potholes. Peter didn't have much trouble keeping up, and neither did Michaela (who had zipped up her vintage WWII leather bomber jacket, pulled up her bandanna and put on her sunglasses to guard against the grit in the air). Rowan, not used to the hoverbike, lost control on the way down the off-ramp. The hoverbike started spinning on its air cushion. Seriously afraid of dying, Rowan saw with horror she was headed towards a concrete rail when she (just) managed to get the hoverbike under control with the help of the automatic lateral thrusters.

Rowan knew she would have further difficulty if she attempted to keep up, but she had the option of slowing down and letting Peter and Michaela pass her.

"Mother thank you"
Rowan mutters under breath



Then allows the others to pass her and follows them
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:42, Fri 08 Oct 2010.

Driving like a maniac, Roadkill threaded his way through abandoned streets and the odd wreck as visibility dropped to near zero. Firecrow followed close behind, but Michaela noticed Rowan slowing and eased off the throttle to drop back with her. In the rear of the technical, Jane and Arthur huddled for shelter under a tarpaulin that was normally over some fuel cans. Schaeffer was doing all right, uncomfortable but otherwise unaffected in the sealed battle armour.

Fortunately, Rowan could just make out the tail-lights of the technical ahead of her and was able to keep up without too much trouble. Finally, they parked at what used to be one of the many motels that Tucumcari boasted as a way-point on the New Mexican plains. Rowan and Michaela were coughing dust and sand as they pulled up in the parking lot behind them.

Roadkill's truck led them around back, to a rear parking lot that was sheltered by a hill from the worst of the wind and prying eyes. Getting out, they gathered around the rig. The building in front of them was two stories and fifteen rooms wide, with the top floor being the one most used by passing truckers. It was built like most motels, with an outside corridor linking the rooms on this side, and passages to the sides leading to the rooms facing the inner courtyard. There were stairs on either end.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #81):

Roadkill's truck led them around back, to a rear parking lot that was sheltered by a hill from the worst of the wind and prying eyes. Getting out, they gathered around the rig. The building in front of them was two stories and fifteen rooms wide, with the top floor being the one most used by passing truckers. It was built like most motels, with an outside corridor linking the rooms on this side, and passages to the sides leading to the rooms facing the inner courtyard. There were stairs on either end.<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Rowan parks the hover bike behind the lee of the truck so it is protected from the worst of the dust storm.
Then pockets the key

Rowan gathers her packs and other equipment, "Which way people"? she asks from behind her neck chief.

Roadkill beams with pride when they arrive at the motel in record time. In response to Rowan's question he says, "We usually stayed up on the top floor. There's no HBO but it's better than being scoured down to your bones by a sandstorm. C'mon, follow me!" he shouts over the sound of the wind as he heads up the stairs to find a suitable room.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #83):


Rowan follows with out argument, glad that some one know where to hole up in this storm
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:16, Sun 10 Oct 2010.

Peter looked around dubiously as they parked. He didn't like leaving his truck exposed, but this seemed at least somewhat safe. As much as anywhere could be considered 'safe' in the Wasted West. He reluctantly locked everything down and gathered by the rig with everyone else.

"As long as I can look out the window and see the vehicles, I don't care where we stay in there."

Jane followed the group doing her best to appear unphased by the sandstorm. Everyone knew that soldiers were tough but Jane knew that half of their toughness was normally nothing more than a bluff.

Brother Edgar joins the others in heading for the relative safety of the abandoned motel.  He does think to grab his satchel with a selection of food and some water in it.  Hood drawn agains the duststorm, the Doomsayer follows along; a glowing light in the dimness of the storm.

Michaela followed the group inside trying to get to a spot where she could breath more air than sand.

Nix hefted his pack across his shoulders and carried it and the rest of his gear into the motel, following the others.

The sun hadn't gone down but visibility was down to 2-3 yards at most. Wind whistling, sand and dust blowing and blotting out the sun, most of the posse struggled up the stairs to the second floor.

"We must check and see that this place is clear, ja?" said Col. Schaeffer. "I am suggesting two "stacks" (teams) of four to clear the upstairs and downstairs at the same time. Two will stay and watch the vehicles. And so: Arthur, Dakota Jack and Michaela with me; Roadkill leads Peter, Brother Edgar and Smoker and clear the downstairs. Jane and Rowan, secure the vehicles for now and keep the passengers safe. We will keep in touch with you using the CB radios in Peter and mine suits, and Smoker's hand radio."

The motel building was built with 4 wings around a courtyard, 2 stories with rooms lining the inside and outside. The two "stacks" efficiently cleared all the rooms upstairs and down, keeping in touch via radio. Smoker noted there was salvage to be had, but not the easy kind. Mostly pipes, wiring, the few remaining panes of glass, bits of metal. Not worth the time unless a crew was going to work the place over, and then it would be almost useless as a place of refuge.

When they were satisfied the complex was deserted and no one had occupied it recently, the Posse returned to the rooms nearest vehicles, picking out several of the cleanest ones on the second floor. The widow, her children and the mutant brought their bags into the room they were all sharing. Col Schaeffer lit his camp stove and started to boil some water for drinks. "Who is cooking?"

"So... are we setting a watch tonight? Who wants to go first? Do we want to set a 2-hour rotation?" Jack yawned as he spoke. Like everyone, he'd had a long day travelling and even the fight the day before had somehow taken something out of him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:11, Wed 13 Oct 2010.

Rowan yawns
Totally worn out by the recent ride and storm. "I will cook in the morning if you like she offers".
"Right now all I want to do is wash and sleep."
"Wake me up if you need me to do a watch, would you"
Rowan looks around "whats the set up here people, and rooms sheltered from the storm?"

"Hell, we've got enough people to do 1 hour shifts, but 2 hours is fine too. It'll give some of us a chance at some solid sleep every other night," Roadkill comments while he plops down on a mouldering old couch, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. The road warrior doesn't seem to mind and he's soon reclining with his feet propped up. "Home sweet home," he says with a satisfied look on his face as he settles in. "I'll take the first watch once the rest of you are ready to rack out. I'm a bit of a night owl."

In reply to Roadkill (msg #92):

Rowan looks around to find some thing she can drag into the room to make her self comfortable on. An old mattress or comfy chair will do her fine.
Then settles in to get some sleep, until she is needed

Brother Edgar comes out into the hall after helping the passengers settle in, just as the Colonel asks about watches and cooking.  With a smile, he lowers his pack and begins to fish out a few things, "I do not mind assisting with the cooking."  Scant rations in hand, he joins the Colonel and strips off his gloves, "Between your stove and the benevolence of the Glow, it should take no time at all.  I'll gladly partner with someone for a watch as well."

The posse had some dinner, cooking provided by the Power of the Atom courtesy of Brother Edgar in a kind of microwaving process using his bare hands. Rowan had seen this before on their trek from Tucson to Chance City, but no one else had. Crossing herself, Michaels said a short grace ("Bless us O Lord through these thy gifts which we receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen.")

The widow and her family brought their own food, as well as the mutant that they were transporting to Near Wichita.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:41, Fri 15 Oct 2010.

Jane was happy to have cooked food. She was a veteran and therefore knew the effects that not having cooked food could have on the human mind. "Nice trick you have there Edgar. Living outside civilisation wouldn't be so bad if we could all use the power of the atom. "

With a bit of a smile, Brother Edgar passes of another warm ration to whomever is next before looking back to Jane, "I'm very pleased that you think so, Jane.  It always warms the heart to see the Power of the Atom appreciated, rather than simply feared."

Rowan opens one eye, watches her friend cook the rations.
She does not pretend to understand how he does some things. Even as she suspects he does not understand how she does some things.
Yet the result in her opinion is the same, they both serve what they perceive as the light.
Softly she says "well done friend" as he finishes.
As Michael says grace Rowans fingers sketch both a circle and the pentagram of her belief.
Softly she adds "in peace and in friend ship I thank thee for this day lady"

Rowan

The weary travellers ate a simple meal, then bedded down early as there was literally nothing they could do during the sandstorm. Usually, Peter and Roadkill would check over their vehicles to make sure they were in perfect running condition and of course Smoker probably wanted to look at the bikes. All those routine tasks would have to wait until morning.




Due to the foul weather, they paired up per Brother Edgar's suggestion. Almost everyone took a turn on watch. The storm lasted through the night.

Both Peter and Roadkill had terrible nights again. Roadkill dreaming of the vigilante who's face he knew all-too well, Peter dreaming of the cold, cold knife that haunted him, somewhere. Brother Edgar in turn dreamed he was in the ancient bomber, and this time he was looking through the Eye (being the eyepiece for the Norden bombsight) at the city as it passed underneath him, looking for the V of river. Searching for the aim point. Somehow the Eye also showed him the people of the city: women hanging out kimonos and clothing to dry in the morning air, children in school uniforms taking the trolley car, Imperial Japanese soldier cadets drilling in khaki fatigues and forage caps. He wakes before he can pull the release lever, although for some reason he knows the bomb will not explode at this time, even if he does.

The reddish-yellow storm abated soon after dawn. Come morning, everyone was still alive but the air inside was still thick with dust that had forced its way into the motel rooms. After much coughing and stirring up the fine particles, the Posse stumbled outside. There is at least a foot of brown-red sand everywhere, drifting against walls and anything else upright (including the vehicles). The reddish mini dunes were covered with swaths of delicate ripples left by the wind.

The reddish-yellow storm abated soon after dawn. Come morning, everyone was still alive but the air inside was still thick with dust that had forced its way into the motel rooms. After much coughing and stirring up the fine particles, the Posse stumbled outside. There is at least a foot of brown-red sand everywhere, drifting against walls and anything else upright (including the vehicles). The reddish mini dunes were covered with swaths of delicate ripples left by the wind.
</quote>

Rowan is almost desperate to get out in to the open fresh air gathering her gear and moving out side as soon as possible.
As she emerges into the daylight she gasps at the sight that greats her.
Out loud she wonders
"Will our vehicles still run after such a storm?"
Then considers a more pressing situation.
" People we will need to find water"
"Road kill is there any where fairly close where water is likely to have survived, in a usable state?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:08, Mon 18 Oct 2010.

At Brother Edgar's comment Jane simply shrugged before responding. As a soldier she understood that weapons had no allegiance to either good or evil, they simply responded to their user's will. "Well, power is just power. It's how you use it that defines you."

After the meal, Jane had a restful night of sleep. That said, survival instincts had taught the woman to sleep lightly.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:02, Tue 19 Oct 2010.

Brother Edgar quirks a brow at the unexpectedly insightful response from the former soldier.  To which, he really can't help but smile, "Very true, very true indeed.  Thank you."  The rest of the night is passed on watch and asleep.  WHomever is set to watch with Brother Edgar is treated to some amusing anecdotal stories, mostly humor with a bit of moral.

_______

The morning after the storm finds Brother Edgar rising early to greet the rising sun as soon as the storm allowed.  Such morning observances are a particular ritual for the Doomsayer, wherein he makes his quiet prayers to the Sun as the daily symbol of the Beauty of the Glow.  As usual, Brother Edgar takes no part in any work or plans until his short rite is complete.  But after that, he is quick to rejoin the others to begin repacking and clearing up the shelter site.  Vehicle work is left to those with more knowledge.  If they need him, they'll ask.

Roadkill knew where they could find water. Like most desert communities, Tucumcari was built around a source of water. Several streams wound their way from the mountains through former farmland and emptied into Lake Tucumcari. The water was safe to drink as the city (town, really) hadn't been large enough to warrant a Ghost Rock bomb.

Getting to the Lake would be easy enough but the vehicles could use some maintenance. The convoy could stop by on the way out of town, or send someone now while some of the vehicles were being looked over.

Rowan will comment
"If Some one wants to guide me I will go for water while those with mechanics skill look the vehicles over"

Brother Edgar steps towards Rowan, shouldering his travel pack, "I will join you.  I fear I would be little help with the vehicles, but far more help in carrying water."

Rowan Smiles "welcome to this Brother, thank you".
Rowan starts to gather up as many empty water containers as is possible to carry

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #105):

The Colonel had spent the time before breakfast after dawn cleaning his weapons.  Even though he'd only used the M4, it was good to make sure all his tools were sharpened.

"I will accompany those going for water. You will have someone with a radio then. If there is a problem, then someone can come help, ya?"

He was dressed in his battlesuit, with the desert DPM pattern dialed-in and M4 clung across the chest. He wore his boonie hat but his helmet was clipped to his webbing rear.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:15, Fri 22 Oct 2010.

"I'll stay here. It's best Michaela and Dakota take a bike and come to your aid if the Colonel calls. In the mean time, Smoker will check the bikes while Roadkill and Peter see to their mounts. Dakota, Michaela, Jane and myself will stand guard."

The Templar was looking nondescript today, with dusty jeans over taped-up cowboy boots, and a ripped black T-shirt under a threadbare jean jacket. His head was bare and a dirty bandanna was around his neck.

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg #107):

Rowan lifts her normal traveling pack and checks the Ak over, she knows it will function in conditions where most rifles would have given up the ghost long since.
"Can I store the rest of the stuff in the back of the semi please she asks"
Then makes sure she has the ammunition for both weapons to hand and the throwing axes on her weapon belt.
"Ready when you are people" she says softly

Brother Edgar, being very simply equipped, requires little in the way of preparation for the trip.  He uses the time, instead, to get a few more directional details from Roadkill to the lake.  Other than that, he awaits the other two.

Peter gave a grunt to indicate that he was listening, at least, possibly even that he gave agreement to the proposed plan. He gave a yawn that nearly cracked his jaw. "I suppose I do not have a more pressing arrangement to attend to." Then he gave a nod and began strolling towards his pickup truck, quiet mumblings and mutterings under his breath.

One part of the crew get the vehicles ready for the day. There was a lot of maintenance to be done, the vehicles were filthy and their engines would seize up if not cleaned properly.

The others trot the half-dozen city blocks to the small lake near the centre of town. The Colonel scouted ahead, then waved the others on when he was satisfied the way was clear. After checking for contamination, they filled their plastic bladders, Nalgene bottles and canteens from the cool, clear water, then packed the containers away for the trip back, the German again scouting the way. The streets were dusty and half-choked with sand in little dunes and drifts. The vehicles they passed were well-stripped, and buildings were either boarded up or left doors agape with smashed windows.

Finally, after an hour of maintenance, the posse was ready to leave. The desert morning was crisp and cool as they were still in the shadows of the buildings, but the sun would soon blaze away, heating up the red rocks and pavement to almost unbearable temperatures.

The widow served some herbal tea to the posse, boiling water in a blackened pot over a wood fire burning inside a 50-gallon drum sitting in the parking lot near the vehicles.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:48, Mon 25 Oct 2010.

"Same positions as last time? Works for me. Firecrow, you want some more company in the back of the technical?" Wiping his hands on a greasy rag, he finished the dregs of herbal tea. His faded eyes scanned the dusty landscape, looking for places his rig could get caught up on.

"Mmmm... terrible."

In reply to Roadkill (msg #113):

Dakota buckled on his new Peacemakers, feeling every inch the gunfighter.

"Tell you what, Roadkill. Smoker, lend me that Winchester and I'll tough it out on top with the good Colonel. That way he's got a spotter and a buddy."

In reply to Dakota Jack Cardinal (msg #114):

"I'll be happy to remain in the back of the pickup with Jane. Just don't expect me to take the gun if she, ah, can't. I much prefer the simpler tools in life."

"Let's divide the water, I have a feeling it's going to be another hot day."

As he spoke, he cleaned and sharpened his broadsword, oiling it before sliding it into its sheath underneath his duster.

Peter shrugged and then chuckled. "It is never a bad thing making sure that Jane has backup. Also, it might keep her from becoming too bored back there. A bored woman with a very large caliber machinegun is not always the wisest of things." He smiled at Jane to make certain that she knew he was just teasing her. She had been nothing but the best co-pilot/gunner he could ask for.

Rowan grins and takes the lead on the hover bike.
Grateful that she could skim the surface and not ride in the dust
She rides keeping a careful watch out for any thing that might pose a anger to her self and her friends

Brother Edgar accepts the tea, grateful for it after his hike.  Settling in for a well deserved moment of relaxation, he enjoys said tea whilst watching the final preparations to get under way.  Its always amazing to see how quickly a random group of survivors gets things moving.  Gets things done.  The best ones read their companions talents and weaknesses, supporting and assisting where needed.  It always feels good to be a part of something.  At the mention of dividing up the water, he finishes off his tea and sets to that simple job.  Its something he can do and so why whouldn't he.

"Sure," replied Nix as he passed the Winchester rifle across to Daokta.

Jane responded with friendly banter. "I swear, some people have no sense of fun. I shoot a mutated dear once and you'll never let me forget! "
This message was last edited by the player at 16:19, Fri 29 Oct 2010.

Rowan grins looks up from where she was working getting ready, "Dear oh Deer" she adds with a chuckle
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:46, Sat 30 Oct 2010.

"Here, you'll need these as well. I've got the Commando, I'll be fine." Michaela dug into her jacket pocket and handed over a dozen shells. Although she still had her own .30-30, she would probably rely more on the Commando as it could be fired one-handed. Mounting up on the sport bike, she followed Rowan out of the parking lot.

In reply to Michaela Fukushima (msg #122):

Accepting the shells, Don tried to be suave but decided instead to be honest. "Hey, thanks, Mich. I appreciate this." Rifle in hand, he climbed up on top of the rig. "Okay, Hans, let's get this show on the road! Call down to Roadkill and let's get going."

He got settled on top in the rear fighting position, making sure his rifle was in easy reach. Pulling his hat down over his face, he attempted to get some shut eye.

In reply to Dakota Jack Cardinal (msg #123):

Rolling his eyes, Schaeffer got settled in as well. "Ja, I will call him. Do not let the sun cook your brains!" He got his rifle out, making sure he had a shooting rest made from sandbags.

"Roadkill, this is Jaeger. We are ready to go. Move out now. Same order as yesterday, Firecrow, you will follow us."

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg #124):

"Ahhh... ten four, good neighbor. Firecrow's got the back door, nodamene? We're hammer down to Amarillo town, and I'm back out." Roadkill began the long process of gearing up as he eased out onto the I-40 on-ramp. Greeninsh black smoke poured out of the Kenworth's twin chrome stacks, staining the blue desert sky. "That sound, the Ghost rock burning? Sounds like screams? Really creeps me out, I never get used to it. Not too bad during the day."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:17, Sat 30 Oct 2010.

0730-1240 Hours

Map:

http://tinyurl.com/37llpk4

The convoy pulled out on the road, with the bikes in front, rig, then technical. They moved relatively fast down the Blue Star Highway/Needles Freeway across the New Mexican planes, then crossed into Texas. At some point a checkpoint had been established on the state border to control refugees after the Big Bang, mostly fleeing Amarillo, but all that was left were some weathered trucks and collapsed sandbagged positions.

The Texas Panhandle had reverted to a dust bowl, like centuries past. Most of what little moisture that fell evaporated or drained into the sandy nutrient-poor soil.

They took a few breaks as they traveled, making sure the fuel tanks for the bikes were topped up and everyone stayed hydrated. After about five hours on the road, they were approaching Amarillo. At a prewar population of a quarter-million, the city was just big enough to rate a Ghost Rock city buster. The ruins of Amarillo itself were almost deserted, but the West Texas A&M campus to the south in the city of Canyon was home to a small but technically advanced colony.

The Posse's convoy approached the insignificant ruins of Wildorado, about 15 miles from the city limits and 20 from the Ghost storm at the centre of town.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:28, Sat 30 Oct 2010.

"Ahhh... breaker, breaker. This is the Roadkill to Firecrow, I want to take a detour down to the West Texas A&M campus. There's always something worth trading there, and the mechanics are some of the best outside Junkyard."

Well before the turn, he honked his horn to get Rowan and Michaela's attention and began to slow down.

Rowan slows and turns at the sound of the horn, and makes sure she has Michael's attention then makes the turn as indicated.

Peter smiled a bit as the call came over the radio. He had been thinking the same thing himself, actually. The campus colony sometimes had some very choice things for sale and barter. He called back over the radio, "Roger that, Roadkill. I have been there before as well. I shall follow your lead."

As they ride Rowan wonders if the people that Peter and road kill are talking about will be able to fix the hover bike to its, original standard.
And what they will want in trade in order to do so.
She grins a mounted CB radio would be good on the bike she thinks or a hand held unit.

Brother Edgar looks up from his inspection of the eyepiece again as mention is made of a stop at "civilization."  Carefully srapping up the Eye and replacing it in its pouch, he offers in Roadkill's direction, "The Texas A&M Campus?  It would have been a very appropriate place to gather after the Day.  Knowledge, skill, focus.  Just the sort of place where the Bright Future can take root and grow...." 

To get to the turn-off, they had to go a little further towards the ruins of Amarillo. They passed by some kind of strange incomprehensible sculpture/landscaping off in the desert to the south of the Interstate. Although it might have been one of the many freakish and unlikely effects of the Ghost Rock bomb that obliterated the city, Roadkill and Peter recognised this as the so-called "Cadillac Ranch". Over 100 years ago someone had buried a long line of automobiles in the dirt, nose-first, tails in the air. They had long been covered in tags, stripped of parts and salvage but no one had bothered to dig up and take the rusty bodies themselves.

After turning right and heading south down the off-ramp onto Soncy Rd., they soon came into sight of the rubble of the town of Canyon. The West Texas A&M campus was in the NE corner of the town off to the left and were the only intact buildings rising above the dusty plains.

There was a 5-foot wall of concrete debris surrounding the campus, and sprouting from the rooftops of the stately buildings were thickets of windmills and solar power farms. A sign on the road as they approached Canyon proclaimed this was the "The Northern Texas Republic (Pop 50, 51)" and warned that salvaging the town and city without a permit would be considered looting. Roadkill/Peter remembered that a woman ran the local garage. Although she wasn't a Junker himself she knew the only local Junker around.





The former campus itself was in decent shape with the buildings in good repair. Manicured lawns and the open-air stadium were planted over for agricultural use. The three militia (2 women and a man) on the gate wore comfortable-looking cowboy garb; cowboy hats and boots, leather vests and blue jeans. All had tomahawk throwing axes, one was additionally armed with a machete and a bow, another a lever-action rifle and the last a double-barrel shotgun.

Rowan and Michaela pulled up, Peter behind them and the rig bringing up the rear. The bow-woman, a young native Indian-looking woman said to Rowan, "howdy! Welcome to the North Texas Republic, I'm Janice. Just passing through? Stayin' a while?" She looked at Roadkill's rig, perhaps remembering it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:59, Thu 04 Nov 2010.

Rowan smiles taking her neckerchief off so the woman can see her face.
"Rowan Dawson" holding out her hand

"Trading I believe was what the man in the semi wanted to do, come to that what I wanted to do as well".
"As to staying a while that depends on what we find to trade with you and how long it takes I guess".
Rowan considers what she needs done and decides to be totally truth full then adds.
"I need some ammunition and some medical supplies, and some work done on this bike if there are parts for sale"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #133):

Pinned to her vest was a silver star that said "Deputy".

"Well, that's great to hear, Miss Dawson! We got spare parts and a garage. I think something can be arranged. Park by the industrial building, it looks like a big warehouse at the far end of the campus on the left, just before the greenhouse. You'll have to go through another gate. I recognise that rig, I think the driver knows where to go!"

She raised the traffic bar and waved the convoy through. On the left was the campus police building, on the right side of the boulevard was the "Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum".



Marshall's Note: You are entering from the SW corner at the bottom, between buildings 8 and 9. The Southern blocks are circled by the wall, the marketplace/fields to the north are not.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:07, Tue 02 Nov 2010.

Nix was a little annoyed when he managed to read the sign about salvaging being considered looting in this little town.  How on earth was he supposed to make a living in a town like that!  Well he had some items he could trade so that would have to do for the moment but he took a look at the area around the town, outside of its boundary, to see if there was anywhere worth searching.  This close to the town it was highly unlikely but you never knew - the locals might have missed something!

He kept himself to himself as the militia let them into the town, just relieved that they weren't being charged a "tax" to get in!

Rowan nods, "thank you, any laws on items offered for trading that I need to know about". Rowan smiles in a friendly fashion, "I would prefer not to find my self being locked up, though ignorance of the law".



Once Rowan has the information she rides through with a friendly wave and heads in the direction she has been told.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:07, Wed 03 Nov 2010.

Peter hadn't been to the campus colony in a while. Some of the details were fuzzy, but he definitely remembered the buried automobiles. It brought a mixture of smirk and sad face. A shame to see such vehicles and parts go to waste, but it was still a sight to see.

He waited in the back of the "convoy" line, and watched Rowan speak to someone. She sure was a chatty girl from what he'd seen of her. He wondered what was said but held his peace and followed towards the garage when they convoy moved on again.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #136):

She clarified the strictures on salvaging permits, detailed no-no's (theft, drunkeness, etc.) and waved them through. Apparently, there were no duties or tariff's they needed to be aware of.

The grounds of the university were well-kept. They passed along the neat boulevard through campus and exited out the rear (north) gate to the market (which was actually outside the mall). The market was beside a large warehouse-sized greenhouse.

In the market itself was (among other businesses) a car parts/book dealer, nearby within the walls was "Christine's Garage", a repair shop with several vehicles parked outside, obviously for sale. These include a hoverjeep, a CS Army Humvee, a muscle car and other vehicles (a backhoe, a bicycle and an off-road motorcycle). There was also a sign advertising fuel for sale (bio-diesel and Spook Juice).

Also inside the gate was a bar and grill, the "Belly Cheater", with specials written on a chalk board outside the door and a delicious odor of fried onions wafting out the door. A sign on the other side of the door proclaimed, "Fresh Clean Water!"

Parked outside the grill was a battered VW Kubelwagen staff and Kettenkrad tracked "motorcycle". Clearly WWII relics rescued from some museum somewhere and put into running order, they were well-maintained and sported modern German Bundeswehr (armed forces) markings.



This message was last edited by the GM at 12:44, Thu 04 Nov 2010.

With a faint smile, Roadkill pulled his rig through the gate. In his wilder days he and the other road gangers would raid settlements like this, take what they had. Now he was coming peacefully.

He parked in front of the grill, then let his passengers, the mutie plus widow and children, out of the back of the trailer.

"I'd like to top up, but I gotta eat first. Besides, I don't think I got the bullets to pay for it right now. But I guess we got enough to buy lunch!"

"Lunch sounds good! Let us gather sustenance for the trip ahead."

He indicated Michaela should precede him into the diner.

Sticking her helmet on the end of a handlebar and pulling down her bandanna she replied, "Arthur, such a gentleman, I do declare! I rely on the kindness of strangers, you know. I could use some clean water right now all right."

The Colonel looked dumbfounded when he saw the ancient vehicles. Slowly, he climbed down from his perch on top of the trailer and approached them. "Wie schön es ist, dass sie! So alt, aber in so guter Form. Es bringt eine Träne, mein Auge!"

"I should like to meet the owners of these machines, I would assume they are in the bar. Therefore, I shall go there. Dakota, will you watch the vehicles? There's a good man." He zipped the sniper rifle into the drag bag, slung the M4 carbine so it lay across this chest.

"I hope they do not mind me being armed so."

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg #142):

Dakota roused himself from his torpor, lifting his cowboy hat from his eyes so he could look at whatever the kraut was gawking at.

"Hans, this here's Texas, my friend. They would take it as a grave insult if you weren't armed and ready to throw down at a moment's notice. It's the American way, don'cha know!"

He sighed, stretching as he hitched up his gun belt and checked his borrowed Winchester. "Sure thing, I'll hang around here if people want to shop or have a bite. Just bring me a... rat-burger with no pickles but with onions, cheddar cheese and mushrooms with a side of chili, if I read the sign correctly."

Rowan
"Road kill we still got salvage that no one wanted let from the fight, that should pay for a meal for folks".
"Not sure how much fuel we need, or the cost of it, that's our next need I guess".
"I need some rounds for the AK as well"

OOC question what do we have left that no one claimed

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #144):

"Great to hear! Let's grab a bite to eat and top up the tank. The Colonel gave you his pick, that Mex rifle, so that might buy you some AK ammo."

Without meaning to, the ex-road ganger was showing his selfish side. Although, he would have articulated it as taking care of the important things first, like his belly and his truck. It was just something that tended to grate on people's nerves, not that he really, really cared.

Roadkill pulled on his thigh-mounted drop holster and slid the sawed-off shotgun into it, checking to make sure both chambers were loaded. After that, he put on his trucker's ball cap. "NOW I'm dressed for the weather in Texas! Let's go, kiddies."

Brother Edgar had quietly climbed free of the cab, stretching a bit and straightening his robes.  Long truck rides were still something he was getting used to.  His pack is shouldered and he takes a good look around the area.  He seems impressed, even proud at some very we're-all-connected-as-humans kind of level.  Speaking of being human, he catches onto the discussion of food and catches sight of the sign. "I believe I'm in for lunch as well.  A real cooked meal at a cafe is not an opportunity that should be missed."

Peter parked the truck and hovered near it for a moment, always a bit uncertain with leaving his truck anywhere for any length of time. He listened to the others talk as they wandered. He smiled at the thought of a warm cooked meal. It was a luxury, true, and unnecessary very much, but every once in a while it was good for morale to spoil oneself a little.

"I, too, would not object to a good meal."

Rowan smiles,
"is Not said friends that the greatest sign of friendship is the breaking of bread and the drinking together in friendship."
"Let us see what it will cost for us to eat and drink here shall we"

Up on the truck, Dakota took his guitar out of it's case and began tuning it up. He settled for an old song and began strumming as he strummed quietly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7mz0Dk-n3Y
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:51, Sat 06 Nov 2010.

The Posse entered the diner, leaving Dakota and Jane outside to watch the vehicles. There were a few local-looking people eating at one table. There was also three well-kept clean-cut soldiers in battlesuits with foreign-looking camouflage patterns eating at a different table.

Looking up, one motioned to his friends. After talking among themselves for a moment they motioned him to come over. One with a short blonde haircut called out, "Güten abend, lieutenant! Kommen, bitte kontaktieren Sie uns jetzt für etwas zu essen.

The waitress asked the others what they wanted to eat. Prices for food and drink were a little pricey but weren't too expensive for a small desert town. At least the water seemed pure and fresh; there was a lake to the immediate north of the colony and a water tanker truck parked out back.

Beakfast:
   Omelette (price $12.5)

Lunch & Dinner:
   Cooked Sausage (price $6.25)
   Dry Sausage (price $8.75)
   Meatloaf Suprise (the suprise, what is the meat???) (price $10)
   Hamster Burger (Price $11.25)


Marshall's Note: Food and drink are at 125% list price, and pure water is only $5/gallon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:40, Mon 08 Nov 2010.

"I know those men, they belong to my old unit! I must talk with them now. Please excuse me."

Without waiting for an answer, he strode over to the table. The men stood and came to attention (but did not salute). With a word in German from Schaeffer they relaxed and sat back down.

"Go, my friend, I'm sure you have a lot to talk about with your men."

With that, he decided to order a burger and fries, with a glass of ice water. "Michaela, mind if I order a burger for you as well? Looks like they have real beef."

"Sure thing, Boss." She looked at the menu. "I'll, uh, have the hamster burger, like you."

Brother Edgar steps into the place and takes a good look around.  Spotting the Colonel joining a group of other forced-expatriate Germans, he can't help but smile a little.  "The Glow works in mysterious ways," he offes quietly to really any of his companions who might be nearby, "Imagine, after all that has happened, stumbling upon other members of your international military unit at a charming little survivor cafe in Texas." Smiling brighter still, he looks over to the menu, "There's purpose to that.  Direction and pattern.  I have no doubt."  After looking over the menu, the Doomsayer will attempt to place his own order with whatever server he may be able to get the attention of, "I would like to try the meatloaf please.  And I thought I may have smelled onion rings?"  If he gets any surprised looks from companions over choosing the Meatloaf Surprise, Brother Edgar will simply smile, "I am a man of faith.  I walk in the Glow and will fear no meatloaf.  The Atom is with me."

Rowan looks at her friend, and softly replies, "with in the circle that is existence and the path that is life, all things have their time and their place."
"Brother is it not true to say that in all resides at it's most basic level the atom."
"And flowing through all is both the quark and the hadrons"
Rowan looks at the menu. "I think that I would like to try the Burger and fries."
Some how it seems right for this place.
She makes sure their guests on the journey order food as well

"I'll have some sausage, I think. Yeah. And a gallon of water for the table, if you please."

He smiled at the waitress from under his ball cap. "This is a good place, Fast Eddie took me here once or twice."

In reply to Roadkill (msg #156):

The waitress ("DEBRA") paused in writing the orders and raised an eyebrow at Roadkill. "Ya'all are friends of Fast Eddie's? Well, don't that beat all! Tell you what, food's half price for his friends. Eddie was a hell of a trucker, sad to hear he passed and all. Way too much of that lately."

She replied to Brother Edgar, "oh, you bet, sugar, three seven-six-twos ($3) for a side of rings. You boys gonna order too?" she asked Peter and Smoker, who was still looking at the menu and deciding if he could afford even the reduced prices.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:21, Tue 09 Nov 2010.

Rowan clicks her fingers and nods at them both to order and smiles at their guests to please order.

She places the spare mag of the fusel on the table, "we have enough friends".
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:39, Wed 10 Nov 2010.

Peter read and re-read the items on the menu several times, almost like it would make the choices different. Finally, he sighed a little and set the menu down. "I...suppose I shall I have a...burger as well. Thank you." He couldn't quite bring himself to say the word 'hamster' when he mentioned the burger. His older memory remembered what the hamsters used to be for people: pets, not food.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg #159):

"Great to hear." She finished writing down the orders. "Thank you all, it'll be about five minutes, give or take."

She addressed Smoker as she moved away. "Sugar, you let me know when you want to order, all right?"

Rowan.
"Thank you,"
Pours a glass of water for herself and makes sure that their guests also have fresh water to drink.
Looking at Smoker she asks softly.
"Whats wrong friend not feeling hungry"?
Rowan eyes look around the inn taking things in, as always she checks for exits, who is sitting where, and who is paying them attention
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:19, Fri 12 Nov 2010.

Nix grinned back in response and scratched at an itch on his head.

"Me," he replied to Rowan.  "I'm always hungry.  You buying?"

In reality he had been looking at the price list for the food and mentally working out how much the items they had to trade would be worth.

Rowan Smiles points to the Mag on the table loaded with 30 rounds.
"If you can not cover it then I am sure we can" she answers with a smile

Never one to turn down free food Nix grinned again.

"I'm always poor!" he replied, despite the rather obvious assault rifle next to him, the pistol and machete at his belt and the backpack of gear he had deposited beside his seat.

Rowan chuckles a light happy sound.
"Ah but not in spirit or in desires my friend."
She wags a friendly finger in Smokers direction.
"Perhaps we should take that magazine off you rifle and sell it for your meal" she teases.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:11, Sat 13 Nov 2010.

"Now that would be a bad idea!" Nix replied to Rowan before adding, with a grin.  "We could trade some of the gear we don't want though instead of using ammo that we might need..."

Rowan leans back in her chair considers for a moment then replies in a soft low voice that carries no further than the table they are sat at.

"Well we have a fair few things for trade not counting the fire arms and ammo
lets see" she ticks things off with her fingers
Two bikes
"a Hyundai Off-Road Bike"
"a Harley "Hawg" Bike"

Hmm blades that no one claimed

"Machetes x2
"Dull Rusty Bowie knife"
"Battle Axe"
"Paired Hatchets"

There is a single 10 Mini uzi though I think you pilfered the rounds from it Nix
Salvage:
6 Milrats (But some one commented we should keep these)

Parts from 1 wrecked off-road bike, value unknown (I think some wanted to keep them for tinkering ")
Rowan thinks for a moment
I think that's it, or was there some armour as well?
This message was last edited by the player at 06:02, Mon 15 Nov 2010.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #167):

"I think Michaela and Dakota took the Police vests. Let's offer the hand weapons. See what they can get us."

He unrolled the felt-wrapped weapons, and they clanged on the table. He'd spent time sharpening and oiling up the knives and the axes. They looked in good condition, with razor-sharp edges.

The waitress came by and dropped off a plastic gallon jug of water and some glasses.

She looked at the hardware spread out on the felt. Picking up the Bowie knife she said, "hmm... not bad. Can use some work, but always wanted one of these."

"All right, I'll take this here Bowie knife, that'll cover the meal. Call it a favour for an old friend." She stuck the sheathed knife in her belt, satisfied with the deal.

After pouring water for everyone, Debra the waitress waltzed back towards the kitchen, tossing her blonde hair. Soon, the smell of roasting meat and delicious Barbeque wafted from the back.

"Mmmm! I smell barbequeue! Delicious. Wonder if they have teriyaki?""
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:58, Mon 15 Nov 2010.

Peter smiled and watched the 'list' of weapons and trade value items rattled off. Not a bad collection to barter with. Not the best or most expensive, but many times that was better in the wasted west. High-price or rare items were harder to off-load since fewer folks could afford them.

He took a sip of water and savored it, closing his eyes.

Raven chuckles, "Now I wonder where in the world you would still ind things like that Michaela".

Rowan gazes wistfully into the distance.
"Mind you it would be nice wouldn't it".
"Still until we are ready, I guess we have to live and make do"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:13, Mon 15 Nov 2010.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #172):

Michaela grinned at Rowan. "Find Teriyaki? Japan, of course! Plenty still here, somewhere in the ruins. And of course, in the Daimyo of Portland's territory. It's not rocket science to make teriyaki sauce, it's basically mirin, soy sauce and sugar. Still, the best teriyaki on the west coast is in Portland, probably all of North America."


OOC: I chose the wrong character to make the "Teriyaki" comment. It was from Michaela (an NPC), not Jane (who is a PC).
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:18, Mon 15 Nov 2010.

"The mini uzi's got a clip at least," replied Nix, "so it's worth something to the right buyer!  We looking to trade the rest of this gear here in this town?  What do we want?  Trail rats?  Ammo?  Fuel?  Something else?"

Rowan. "Well we need fuel and ammo".
"I would like to pick up some items for my medical bag as well as getting the Hover bike repaired if the bits can be found so every thing works on it".
"Depends on the price we are offered for things here I guess"
Rowan looks around then starts on her meal, so the food does not get cold

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #175):

The food is excellent; the meat may be hamster or even wild dog, but the Texas barbequeue was still fantastic. Even after the apocalypse.

Debra, the waitress, mentioned as she filled the water glasses, "if ya'll folks want to trade for some ammunition, there's a stall in the market (just outside the north gate) on the left. Also, there's a guy there who sells spare car parts who's also a bookseller, he's on the right. There's a garage just inside the south gate iffen' you want to fix up your rides."

Eventually, the Colonel excused himself and got up from the table he was occupying, walking over. "Please accept my apologies for my rudeness in not joining you. Those men were in my unit, they are my kamerads. How would you say? My friends. They found some antique WWII German army vehicles stored in a private collection near Dallas and converted them to run on alcohol. No panzers, I am afraid! They are based with some other Germans and American to the north of Dallas, and they patrol the roads.

"The ties of blood and duty still run deep between me and them. I should like to take my leave of you, my friends, and join them, at least for a while. It will be nice to be among my own countrymen, at least for a while! I must thank you, it has been an honour and a privilege to be your companion and to travel with you, but now our paths must part.

"But not forever! I will find you, or you can send word to Dallas if you need me. One day, we will travel together again, I promise it. Until then, ciao, and a toast! To good friends, well met and who have fought together!" He raised his cup (which had water in it) as a toast to the posse.

Arthur had been giving Schaeffer kind of strange looks, but trying to hide them, throughout the meal. When it came time for a toast he raised his own ceramic mug (#1 DAD) of water. "Hear hear, it's been our pleasure. Colonel. Happy trails to you."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:31, Wed 17 Nov 2010.

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #178):

Michaela raised her glass as well. "Take it easy, or take it any way you can get it!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:32, Wed 17 Nov 2010.

Rowan nods trails and paths come together and part that is life.
She looks at the colonel trying to read his face and feelings, then raises her glass.
"Safe passage to you Col, may that which you believe in watch over you and lead you back to us when you are ready"

Rowan Smiles "thank you for the information"

Peter listened to the waitress and gave a nod. "That sounds about right from the last time I was here. Water is cheap here so we should take the opportunity to load up, also." He blinked as the Colonel announced he was taking his leave. Peter mentally shrugged. Though he didn't much like the Colonel, the man was good in a fight. "Thank you, Colonel. Safe travels to you."

Brother Edgar looks up from his quiet reverie and savoring of the simple pleasure of clean water and good food at the Colonel's announcement.  Like the others, he accepts it readily enough.  Raising a gloved hand, in a blessing fashion, he offers, "May the Glow light your way to the Bright Utopia.  I hope our paths do cross again."  Such is life in the wastes, folk come together and apart again.  Over and over.  A cycle that helps to spread information and new ideas.  Not a bad thing at all.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #183):

As the colonel leaves Rowan looks around the group.
"People what do we need in the way of Supplies and things fixed"?
"We have two weapons we can sell to get extra ammunition and fuel."
"Do we want to sell the bikes here as well?"
"Road kill you had a reason for wanting to come here friend"
And waits to see what Road kill wants to do here

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #184):

Roadkill replied to Schaeffer, "catch you on the flipside, Fritz! It's been good riding with you, I have a feeling our paths will cross again. Good luck on the open road."

In answer to Rowan he said, "there's a good diner here, I wanted to stop for lunch. We're here, mission accomplished! We could top up with Spook Juice but we already have more than enough to make it. We could always do with some more ammunition but no one's hurting."

"But we're running a little behind, so unless there's something really pressing I'd like to get back on the road ASAP. Trolling through parts and such's gonna slow us down."

In reply to Roadkill (msg #185):

"Thank you all, my comrades. I will go now and get my belongings, and say goodbye to those who remain outside. My men are leaving now and I shall go with them, as is my duty. It has been my distinct pleasure to accompany you all I and I wish you the best."

"Auf weidersehen! Until we meet again."

As a gesture of respect, Schaeffer came to attention (but did not salute). Then turned and walked out the door.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:07, Thu 18 Nov 2010.

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg #186):

Still with a curious look in his eyes, Arthur nodded to Schaeffer and said, "auf weidersehen, my friend."

After Schaeffer left Arthur said in a low voice to the rest of the group, "I didn't mind the Colonel too much and I trust him, but there's still something a little... off... about him. I'm no expert on rank nor do I speak German beyond what I've come across in my historical studies or watched in WWII movies, but I'm pretty sure his men called him Leutnant, which is German for "Lieutenant", and I think a "Colonel" is called Oberst instead.

"I don't think he's a complete phony or fake or else those German chaps would be more upset, but maybe... maybe he's a little "touched"?"

He shook his head, a little bemused. "We are traveling with a bona fide a Priest of the Atom, I believe I'm part of a once-extinct order of Knights and this somehow gives me mystical powers. Who am I to judge?"

"Anyways, if we don't have anything critical to pick up I'm fine with hitting the trail as soon as we're done eating. These ham(ster)burgers are delicious! Can't rush it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:12, Thu 18 Nov 2010.

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #187):

"Auf Weidersehen, Colonel! Sayonara. Until we meet again."

She listened to Arthur without comment, merely looking over at the swinging diner door as it closed behind the Colonel. She nodded when it came to the discussion about leaving, but kept eating.

Brother Edgar returns to his meal again, though a bit more in tune to the table conversation now.  At Rowan's inquiry and Roadkill's response, the Doomsayer adds only "I agree that the meal itself was a fine enough reason.  Normally, I would like to see if I can offer any assistance to the locals and perhaps met with local Chosen.  But, I do understand Mr. Roadkill has a schedule to keep and, for the moment, my path does seem to remain with him."

As to Arthur's comment about Doomsayers and Templars, the brother smiles a bit, "You seem to imply that our beliefs are proof of some deep-seated mental disorder.  Which, I might agree with, if the power of our faiths were not readily demonstrable."

Rowan smiles gently.
“I have said it once and I say it again". "All is within the circle". "The beliefs that we call good, and by that I mean a belief that fosters the ideas of helping each other are all in the end answered by the light.”
“Does it matter my friends if you call it the Atom, Follow Christ, Buddha, Mohammad, Cernunnous, Mother Earth or any one of the thousand names of the powers above us. “It is in truth as Brother Edgar says, a new age”
“And we all find comfort and belief where we can”.

Rowan considers, yes it was nice to eat food cooked professionally for a change.
But she would like to do some trading while she is here
“Now I would like to buy some ammo and see if I can purchase the missing gauges for the hover bike that can be fitted later”.
“I would suggest we sell the Mini 10mm uzi and the blades and see what we can get for them.”
“I intend to trade the rifle for ammo and what ever else I can get for it”
Rowan smiles almost shyly “and I definitely want a quick look at that book stall”.

Rowan finishes her meal and fills up her canteen, thinking a second one might be a good idea. Then waits while the others finish theirs and goes to find the traders here on the campus.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #189):

Roadkill cynically smiled and nodded at Brother Edgar's point, as if to say "touché".

"Hey, Obi-Wan. A crazy man can believe he has the strength of ten and sometimes it's true! A mutant's powers are far-out, but not supernatural. Psykers. Cyborgs. I heard 'bout crazy black-ops robots and androids, NA and SA both. These things are all extraordinary, but you don't need "ooga-booga" to explain it."

He thought about the living dead, the kind they called "Doombringers" that rode motorcycles and tried to kill him with withered hands. "You never know. Maybe what I don't believe in can still kill me."

Roadkill shuddered and continued. "All right, we're hitting the road in ten. If you can score some ammo before then, fuckin-A. See you back at the truck."

He got up, stretched, then headed out. Stopping at the doorway, he turned and called towards the waitress. "Hey, thanks for the barbequeue! It was right-on."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:36, Fri 19 Nov 2010.

Rowan "Make it 15 Road kill, it will make for better trading".

She smile and bows politely
"Thanks for the meal, I will call in next time I am through this way"
And as stated previously heads out to see what she can find

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #192):

"No dice, Rowan, we don't need any supplies that bad! I know how women shop, you'll be in there all day if you get the chance! Five minutes turn into fifteen, fifteen will then turn into a couple hours..."

That wasn't strictly true, Roadkill had been born too late to really participate in pre-war commercial culture, but he understood the basics.

"Stay as long as you like. You got a hoverbike, you can catch up. Me? I'm pulling out on schedule."

In reply to Roadkill (msg #193):

Michaela got up as well, prepared to leave. She frowned a little. "If Rowan wants to stay and shop I guess I can stay with her. If Arthur concurs." She looked a little doubtful; it was obvious she wanted to hit the road too but didn't want to abandon her friend.

In reply to Michaela Fukushima (msg #194):

"That would be fine, Michaela. We must protect our friends and allies if they are worth it." His words sounded a little stiff, but the posse had heard other lectures before from the former professor and knew this was simply another "life lesson" from the Templar to his Squire, and not to take it personally.

Arthur stood up, buckling his sword-belt. "Let us be away, if that is what we must do."

Rowan looks amazed.
They came in her with Road kill saying he wanted to trade, and now she is showing she wants to he is saying the have to leave now!!!!!!!!!!!

Then her look changes to fury at the unjust accusation of then needing several hours.

" That statement was neither just nor fair" she says in a very quiet glacial cold voice.[ Totally unlike her usual attitude] "You neither know me nor my previous habits, you were the one that wanted to come in here and trade in the first place." "And now you want to pull out quickly with no reason".
"Forget it it just ain't worth the trouble, of rushing trading "
"You can explain to the guards at the gate, the reason I am being made out to be a lier."
"Or just maybe I will tell them you changed your mind"

Rowan stalks out of the Inn with out another word, her body language clearly showing her disgust at what has been said to her.
She walks over to her bike gets on and is ready to go.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:22, Sat 20 Nov 2010.

Peter watches the back and forth between Rowan and Roadkill. He himself does not have that much to trade right now and is not missing anything truly important. He gives a nod to Roadkill. "I will be ready on time."

He takes a few minutes to look around the shops, just browsing to see if anything is truly eye-catching to him, but otherwise goes back to the pick-up within the 10 minutes.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:42, Sat 20 Nov 2010.

Rowan Takes a sip of water and calms her mind back down.
She has said her piece and as far as she is concerned it is done.
On the ten minute mark she starts her bike and waits for the order to move out.
Rolling up to the gate she waves to the guard and heads back out on to the road

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #199):

Roadkill sauntered out of the diner and tossed a half-amused half-sarcastic look in Rowan's direction. He muttered, "it's sure that time of the month for someone!"

Grinning, he walked around his truck, checking to make sure all the tires were in good shape.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #200):

Getting a jerrycan from Pete's technical to top up the bikes, Michaela heard Roadkill's comment. Walking over to her bike, she topped it up, then she went over to the gate where Rowan was waiting and topped up the hoverbike, too.

"Man, that Roadkill's a fucking pig. Still, I guess it's a serious improvement from raping and looting travelers, like his buddies did when he was a ganger, so thank God or the Goddess for that." She sounded more than a little sarcastic herself.

"Are you good to go, Rowan?" She capped the jerrycan but the sickly-sweet smell of Spook Juice remained. Some people drank the stuff, but for the life of her she couldn't understand why.

Rowan nods her Calm nature reasserting itself.
She smiles looking in Road Kill's direction and shakes her head
"Life is improvement Michaela, and yes I am fine, though I do not appreciate being made to look a lire and a fool."

"But I guess some times we all act the fool, time to ride friend and thanks"

The widow McCabe and Jeff Rojas, the mutant, were already waiting at the vehicles, stuff already in the rig's trailer. The widow's two children were playing in on the sidewalk in the shade of the trailer, and Roadkill grumpily stepped around them.

"Mister Dakota was kind enough to give us some food and water, so we're good to get on the road, too," Rojas said, thankfully.

Schaeffer and Dakota were talking to the Germans over by the antique Kettenkrad and Kubelwagen. The vehicles were painted in the modern German Army desert camouflage pattern, which looked a little anachronistic to say the least. The Kubelwagen had a Rhein-Metal 20mm M200 Man Portable Support Weapon (a common support weapon in the Last War but rarer now) mounted on a post behind the front seat.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #202):

"Yeah, Roadkill's a dick, but he knows the highways and if he wants to change his mind, that doesn't make you look bad. Okay, time's almost up, I better mount up myself!"

With a smile, she walked back to the pickup and handed the jerrycan to whoever was there, then got back on her own bike and started it. Putting on her shades and pulling up her bandanna, she rode over to where Rowan was waiting.

Brother Edgar watches the fireworks with his usual calm, not allowing his meal to be rushed.  But, when finished and pleasantries for the feast passed on to the staff, he'll head on out to return to the rig.  Once inside the cab of the truck again, he things are once more stowed.  At an appropriate pause, he'll mention to Roadkill, "You may have a schedule, but, I believe, the greater purpose of your Convoy is to strengthen ties between settlements.  Trading is the lifeblood of settlements, you know that."  A pause, then he adds, "Also, try to remember, these folks are not your employees.  Since we have lost the Colonel, they will look to you for leadership.  Don't push so hard.  You need them and they need you."

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #205):

"Ain't really up to me, Brother. If it were, we'd stay. Sometimes you gotta make a deadline, and the Convoy don't wait. Rowan wants to stay and trade, she can catch up."

Roadkill shrugged to show his feelings on the matter as he started up the engine.

In reply to Michaela Fukushima (msg #204):

"Thank you, Michaela." Arthur said as he took the can of Spook Juice from her. "Have a pleasant ride."

He secured the jerrycan in the rear of the pickup with a bungee cord.

"We are ready to travel," he said to Jane.

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #207):

Hearing the news, Dakota wandered over to Schaeffer to say goodbye. "Vaya con dios, mi Hermano. Happy trails, pardner!"

After a manly handshake, he ambled back to the truck. "Roadkill, with the Colonel gone you still need someone up top. Smoker and me can trade off at the next stop."

He climbed up to the top of the trailer, getting into position.

Everyone said their goodbyes to Colonel Schaeffer. Peter and Roadkill cranked up their vehicles, then reversed and headed for the gate where Rowan and Michaela were waiting. Dakota called down to Michaela and asked if he could hold onto the .30-30 shells, and she said yes.

Then, they were through the gates...

Rowan rides through with a friendly wave then heads back to the main highway.
Continuing along the main route, that they were originally on

1800 Hours

The small convoy hit the road, following I-80 east with the sun at their backs.

Just short of the ruins of Oklahoma City, Roadkill turned them north to follow Highway 81 past the contaminated zone and Ghost Storm. They continued towards Enid, Oklahoma, heading for a small roadhouse/inn he'd stopped in before located on what used to be Vance CAFB.

There really were quite a few people and even some communities left on the plains of Oklahoma. They survived because they were nowhere near the well-traveled routes, routes which could bring trade but also bandits and raiders. That day they didn't pass anyone although they felt unseen eyes following them from the roadside or overpasses. The post-holocaust world had taught most people to be either timid or predatory. None of the former allowed themselves to be seen, while the predators...

The road, cracked in the sun, arrowed north between overgrown fields. Every once in a while they passed abandoned farm houses, ruined towns, burned-out gas and electrical-charge stations. Arthur, in the back of the technical, thought he saw something following them several miles back. Up on top of the trailer, Dakota saw them too. Who or whatever they were, they seemed to be keeping pace with the convoy.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:40, Thu 25 Nov 2010.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #211):

Casually roadkill picks up the radio "This is your esteemed master of the road, we will be stopping at an inn up ahead, i will give you guys the heads up when we get to it, seems i am all knowing and all"

Roadkill with a smile looks towards edgar"It's good to be king"

Watching from the top of the trailer, Jack found his thoughts drifting as he watched. He could almost picture himself riding over this ground on horseback, the sun beating down on the back of his neck as Indians rode nearby watching. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught movement in the distance, snapping him out of his imaginings. *What is that.... bikes... just a few...*

Roadkill's voice startled him for a moment as he'd forgotten the radio being in the nest. He picked it up and spoke into it. "The inn'll be good, but we gotta get there first... We got about a dozen or so bikes Injun'ing us and stayin' a few miles back.... This stretch, we're kinda wide open if they wanted to say howdy in somewhat of a violent manner."

Brother Edgar smiles in response to the jest, continuing to scan the empty landscape around them, "I am told royalty can have its privilege."  As the radio crackles back the report of potential enemies on the horizon, the Doomsayer begins a quick quiet prayer for their continued safety.  His eyes then fix on the side mirrors of the cab, trying to catch a glimpse himself...

Roadkill becomes slightly upset. "Come on man, what you fidgeting about, we ride forward and forward alone, no one is going to catch us, well, they won't catch this rig anyway" Roadkill rocks his head back and forth a few times as if his mind is split in two "oh damn it!" he bleats out "if these guys are out to get us then maybe i should just turn this forsaken rig around and run em all down....
He looks towards edger as if asking for reassurance that not all in this world is out to get them, after all the convoy is making good time and what can be better than that on the open road. then again a quick glance towards his shotty gives away the fact that he doesn't care either way. Scratching his nose he thinks how he would have taken on a convey. Many tactics come to mind, a few make him smile, ah the good old day.

He sounds his horn. not just because a kenworth horn sounds awesome but to make sure that everyone knows, even those that follow if they have good enough hearing. Roadkill smiles but a sense of worry come over him as he looks into the side mirror showing pete vehicle behind.

Rowan takes a look in her mirrors to see what the fuss is, but with the dust cloud the rig is throwing up can not see a lot, so carries on keeping watch ahead as she rides

Arthur had been dozing in the back of the pickup...the heat and the monotony of the road almost acted as a sedative to lull him into slumber.  He felt like he was little more than baggage, occupying space in the back of the technical along with the extra spare supplies.  His head lolled back and forth in time to the swaying of the vehicle, eyelids drooping, then snapping open again as they jounced through the occasional pothole.  His sheathed sword was cradled in his arms, and he laid his cheek against the grip as he wriggled his butt to try and achieve some infinitesimal improvement in the comfort afforded by whatever it was he was perched on.

Another pothole...his eyelids popped open and he cursed under his breath for the umpteenth plus 1 times.  He was about to dig into his pack to find something to cover his head with, when something on the road a few miles behind them caught his eye.  He squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand as he tried to focus.  Too small to be vehicles with four wheels or more...maybe motorcycles.  The sun was quickly dropping toward the western horizon, and was just reaching the point where its blinding brilliance made any attempt to look westward uncomfortable.  Another fifteen minutes, and Arthur would never have been able to see the vehicles on their tail.  It crossed his mind that someone with nefarious intentions might use the sun to hide their advance.

As it was, he leaned forward, as if the extra few inches would somehow bring the objects into focus through the tears that were forming in response to the glare.  He leaned over and tapped Jane on the arm, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of wind and a truck that had seen better days.  "I think we got company, maybe motorcyles a couple miles be..."  His message was interrupted by the sudden blast of the semi's air horn.  "Guess Roadkill has seen them, too," the Templar thought to himself, then resumed his comments to Jane.  "...behind us."  He pointed back down the highway to emphasize his remarks.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:08, Thu 25 Nov 2010.

Brother Edgar remains impassive and continues trying to get catch sight of whatever may be following.  The horn blast does force him to wince a bit, but its easy to let that go.  To Roadkill, he offers calmly, "If you believe that to be the best course, tactically, then the others will follow.  But, they have not, as yet, done anything directly aggressive.  They may, upon getting a good look at the rig and chase vehicles, decide we aren't worth the effort.  Turning around would lose speed, time, and prehaps force a confrontation that we could avoid."

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #216):

Michaela noticed Rowan looking behind her, and glanced at her mirror, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. In truth there was no chance of seeing the bikers so far behind them, and she had to concentrate on the road, anyways.

"Rowan..." she called over. "Something up? Why's that clown honking his damn horn?"

Rowan shakes her head then yells back,
"I have no idea".
"Shall we drop back and see or carry on?"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #220):

"Let's drop back, we don't have a radio so maybe he's signalling us for some reason."

With that she cut the throttle and edged the sportbike over to the left, slowing so the rig could come up alongside them. That way Roadkill or someone else inside the cab could yell out the window and let them know what was going on.

In reply to Michaela Fukushima (msg #221):

A big grins comes over his face. he turns to one out his side window and shouts out the window "Ladies Love the Roadkill, cant get enough of me i see!"..... he turns to look down the road as if he has said all he is going to say but give it a second he opens his mouth again "Alright then, the brother here saw something back, but think they might have pissed off, also there is a place up ahead we should get to by night fall to rest!" He guesses

"Back to your positions like good girls now! hahaha"
Roadkill knows he we get the crap ripped out of him for such a comment but at the time it pleased him and that is the important thing to him.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:34, Sun 28 Nov 2010.

Rowans one eye brow goes upwards at the comment and she moves clear on the bike .
Looking at Michella she shakes her head.
" You are right he is an asshole"
And heads back out on point

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #223):

Michaela laughed as she gave Roadkill the finger, pouring on the throttle to catch up to the hoverbike as it zoomed over the cracked and pocked pavement. When she caught up to Rowan she yelled over, "yeah, Roadkill's a jerk all right... kind of cute, though, what do you think? I always went for the "bad boy" type, you know?"

To show her mind was still on business, she took the SA Commando SMG from where it was slung around her neck and shoulder with one hand, then tucking it under her arm to steady it pulled back the cocking knob and clicked off the safety. She then let it hang back down by her side where she could grab it easily.





-.50SA Commando SMG
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:47, Sat 27 Nov 2010.

Rowan grins, "to much work riding the rough Michaela".
"I am still hoping to find my next satisfying encounter"

Rowan nods seeing Michaela's move, and makes sure the AK is ready to hand

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #217):

Groggily, Jane sat up and shaded her eyes, looking where Arthur indicated behind them. She'd been taking a break while the Templar stood watch, although only Jane would man the Browning M2HB machinegun mounted in the truck bed. Things seemed to break or malfunction when Arthur touched them, some people were just like that, she guessed.

The diesel truck's air horn blared, either in derision or a warning, Jane wasn't sure.

"Huh, good eyes, Arthur. Let's get ready." As they were tail-end Charlie, rear security was also their job. Getting behind the gun she swiveled it around to the rear, then pulled back the charging handle to cock it. She then grabbed the twin shovel-like handles and placed her thumbs on the butterfly trigger.

"Ready to rock. Cover your ears when I say "on the way!" or else you're going to be deaf!" She made sure her black USAF beret was on securely in the dry dusty wind, and settled her sunglasses on her face to protect her eyes.

Arthur nodded to Jane to show he understood her instructions.  He leaned over the side of the truck near the driver's window and banged his hand twice on the top of the pickup's cab.  He cupped his hand to his mouth and shouted to make sure Firecrow could hear him, "Peter, we got some motorbikes behind us a couple miles back.  I think Roadkill's already seen 'em and his horn blast was supposed to be a warning to us.  But in case it was just one of his spontaneous and usually inexplicable displays of truckin' exuberance, you might want to make sure everyone knows we're being followed."

As he finished, he looked up at the top of the semi's trailer ahead of them, and spying Dakota, gave him a quick wave.  He turned back to Jane and hunkered down as far as he could amidst the gear around him.  "Ready anytime you are."  He laid his sword down next to him and pulled away his jacket from the butt of his pistol.  He knew the 10mm would be of little use, but it still gave him some comfort.

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #227):

Up ahead Rowan keeps going totally unaware of what is really going on behind her.
She is trying to get to their stop before it gets dark.

Brother Edgar quirks a brow and glances sidelong at Roadkill as he relays information to the motorcycle scouts. Once the scouts head off again, he just shakes his head a little, "You are a brave man, Mr. Roadkill.  But I suppose you must be in your profession."  His attention flicks back again to the mirrors to check the followers.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:15, Mon 29 Nov 2010.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #229):

It was hard to see out the mirrors; at most Roadkill and Brother Edgar could make out were some black specks fading into the yellowish Oklahoma dust they kicked up as they rolled along the pocked blacktop. Smoker hung his head out the window but couldn't see any better. Until the distance was closed more, Arthur and Jane didn't have a much better view. Up on top of the trailer, Dakota kept tabs on the riders, who seemed to be keeping their distance.

A kind of stalemate prevailed for the next few minutes, with the convoy high-tailing it north up the road and the bikers keeping their distance about a mile or so back. At that distance they were well outside of shootin' range, and neither side could get a clear look at the other due to the dust and heat. (If the "Colonel" were still here with his monster Mauser sniper rifle it might be another story!)

Suddenly, Dakota pointed at something and yelled down to Pete and Arthur/Jane in the technical, "HEY! There's a couple bikes coming up the southbound lane!" Sure enough, it looked like a couple bikes had separated from the pack and had crossed over the overgrown median (via a turnaround) to the ongoing lane. In the days when there was traffic this would have put them in the path of oncoming traffic but now of course they were the only things on the road.

The convoy was rolling up the right hand lanes, the bikes were closing the distance by moving up the left hand lanes accross the median. They closed to about 500 yards, then paced the convoy. The rest of the pack stayed farther in the righthand lanes, keeping their distance. They were about six miles out of Enid, travelling at forty miles an hour. Up in front Michaela and Rowan could see the road ahead was clear. The turn-arounds were coming every half-mile.

Note: Map not to scale!

  ^
  |
North
  |

 
 
h
<--- Hoverbike (Rowan)
 
 
*
<--- Sport Bike (Michaela)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
R
<--- Rig (Roadkill, Smoker, Br. Edgar)
 
 
T
 
 
 
T
 
 
 
T
 
 
 
T
 
 
 
T
<---Trailer (Dakota in fighting position at top rear)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
P
<--- Pickup (Pete, Jane, Arthur)
 
 
P
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
* *
<--- 2 bikers
 
 
 
500 yds
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
_________________
 
 
 
 
 
 
_________________
 
 
 
 
 
*
 
 
 
* *
 
 
 
* *
 
 
 
* *
 
 
 
* *
 
 
 
* *
<--- 11 bikers, 1 mile away

Jane swung the machingun to the right to cover the bikers that were pacing them in the other lanes. "Yo, Pete! Want me to light these guys up? I can at least discourage them a little!" Carefully she aimed down the barrel, making sure to take into considering how fast they were moving relative to each other. This wouldn't be a tough shot at all, as both the technical and the targets were traveling parallel to each other.

Peter was listening to the wind as it howled by since there were no more radio stations and he couldn't waste juice on playing the stereo with the few cassette tapes and CDs he did actually have. He perked up a bit when the semi-truck honked its horn. Then there was some discussion in the bed of his truck that he couldn't really hear before Arthur and Jane began yelling up to him.

"Thank you, Arthur!"


Then he rolled his eyes and looked back at Jane a moment. "First off? Please call me Peter, not Pete. Secondly? Let us give them a chance to stay non-violent before we force the choice upon them please. They may be riding up to parlay or warn us off of something. If they DO turn out to be violent, my dear Jane, you may kill every last one of them."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg #232):

"Yeah, you know you like it, Pete. I mean, Peter." Jane said as she covered the bikers. "I don't buy it, Arthur, they're checkin' us out, no doubt. But they can make the first move!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:53, Wed 01 Dec 2010.

"fear is for the dead and those that dear approach us" He says with a smirk. "Anyway you said they had withdrawn, so we make our way too the inn. I am so tired of late..." Roadkill lights up a stogie oblivious to what is going on behind him.

OOC. I don't know the addiction but it sounds about right

In reply to Roadkill (msg #234):

Roadkill didn't have a good feeling about the situation; he'd been a ganger himself and knew there was only one reason the pack was tailing them. It was good they hadn't attacked and he didn't know what they were waiting for but he was glad they were holding off for some reason. They could probably take them if they attacked. Probably.

They rolled on for a few minutes, at something of a stalemate, the pair off to one side and the main group behind, keeping pace as the sun started to sink into the west. After the bomb, sunsets and sunrises had been lurid and colourful, orgies of salmon pinks and crimson reds, burnt orange.

They passed through the ruins of a couple nameless towns amid the dusty plains and scrub. Finally, the half-collapsed perimeter fencing of Vance CAAFB came into view. At that point, the bikers all slowed down at some unknown signal and peeled off, heading back south down the highway.

In a few more minutes the outskirts of Enid became visible to Rowan and Michaela, then the rig. The colony itself was in the centre of town and they passed through deserted blocks of collapsing buildings as darkness fell.





Enid had suddenly become far better protected since they last visited. Blocks in every direction had been cleared to make fire lanes. Fencing and concertina wire salvaged from the ruined CAAFB outside town surrounded it now, and behind the fencing and wire were a series of entrenchments and bunkers. Night had begun to fall, and there were lights on some the buildings and the watch towers and illuminating the town and surrounding free fire zone. It was reminiscent of a prison camp.

Approaching the front gate from a few blocks away, Rowan and Michaela could see a large number of armed soldiers manning the trenches and fighting positions. They were all wearing black hats, mostly baseball caps, cowboy hats or berets. Roadkill knew something was wrong but he couldn't put his finger on it until he too saw the black hats, noted the SUVs and pickups mounting machineguns parked by the main gate/checkpoint.

The Combine.

Usually they didn't come after travelers and folks, they were more interested in controlling communities like Enid. Enslaving their populations, forcing them to send tribute to their mad ruler in Denver, Throckmorton. Jane looked over as they started passing the perimeter fortifications and recoiled in horror, quickly pulling off her own beret. Of the posse she traveled with only Peter was privy to her secret, that she was a renegade from the Combine, fleeing their control.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:30, Wed 01 Dec 2010.

"Oh Christ!" exclaimed Jane. "Arthur, hide my Hellfire SAW, it's at my feet. Just put it in the bag and zip it up, then shove it under something."

Trying to remain calm she maintained her position behind the gun, not wanting to stoop down in plain view. "I count maybe a field company of Black Hats. A hundred on bikes and in SUVs. They'll probably have a platoon of twenty Red Hats in support, with heavy weapons like automaton combat units with a Raptor VTOL for transport."

At the urgency in Jane's voice, Arthur instinctively reached for his sword before he had mentally processed what she was saying, scanning the sides of the road for threats.  The bikers had backed off and disappeared, but his focus had still been on the road behind them, and he saw nothing to cause alarm.  Glancing at her, he noticed that her attention was now focused ahead of them.  Using his hand against the truck cab to steady himself, he stood and looked at whatever had captured her attention as he realized what she had said.

Black Hats meant Combine...he had heard of them, but had never gone up against them.  Still, they were exactly the kind of people that created a need for Templars.  Bullies.  Predators.  Scum.

Not sure exactly what was going on, but realizing that Jane wasn't being her usual cocky self, Arthur hurried to comply with her request.  He crouched back down and laid aside his blade, grabbed the SAW, and hurriedly secured it in the bag, as requested.  He worked silently and quickly, lifting the corner of the tarp covering some fuel cans and shoving the bag under it.  He then threw his pack on top of it for good measure.  "Okay, the gun's tucked away."  Still kneeling, he retrieved his sword and held it before him, the blade pointing down.  He pressed the crossguard to his forehead with his eyes shut, his lips moving soundlessly.  After several seconds, he stood back up, looking ahead at the assemblage of Combine goons, his sheathed sword held ready in his left hand.  "I've heard of these people, but I've never had cause to stand up to any of them.  Do you know much about them?  Any idea what we might be facing here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:56, Wed 01 Dec 2010.

"This is some serious fire power for a town don't you think Edgar, Seems odd, maybe I'm missing something or maybe the lack of sleep is getting to me..." Roadkill trails off and takes a deep puff on the remains of his stogie

Rowan makes sure her symbol is out of sight and then signals Micheala to drop back to the rig so they can travel as a unit
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:14, Wed 01 Dec 2010.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #239):

"Why? What's the problem?" Not having a radio, there was no reason to suspect anything was wrong. Michaela grew up on the west coast, in the Pacific Northwest, and therefore didn't recognise the Combine.

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #237):

Jane studied the troops. Aside from their black hats, they were wearing a mishmash of ragged CSA and US army fatigues and civilian dress. Only their black plastic weapons looked new.

"Like I said, there's at least a company of a hundred Black Hats here, 1 platoon of twenty per side and an HQ/reserve platoon. I can't tell more until we get inside, if we do. They'll be equipped with small arms like Blazer SMGs, Damnation rifles and Hellfire SAWs, some grenade launchers and RPGs. Black Hats aren't usually well-disciplined and have little training."

"I don't see any Red Hats yet, that's a good sign. They're the ones with real training and firepower like automatons and Raptors."

"The Combine will be way the Hell out here for two reasons: slaves and tribute. If I had to guess why Enid, Oklahoma has some oil wells and Throckmorton wants to get his hands on them somehow."

"As to how I know about them... I was a company commander in the Black Hats before I went over the wall. They won't like me if they knew who I was. They also have a hate on for mutants. The good news is they'll leave us alone if we bribe them and they don't see any mutants."

She raised her voice so Peter could hear her, too. "Peter, did you get all that?"

Peter radioed ahead to Roadkill, he kept it short and sweet since he knew that the Combine could very likely listen in on with all the technology they had. "RK, this is Peter. We need to keep moving if we are going to make our destination before we need to rest again. Do not gawk at the town over there. Some *guards* get trigger-happy when they are well-armed."

He hoped Roadkill would get the subtexts and avoid the town. Peter didn't really feel up to dealing with the Combine. Or possibly losing Jane.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg #242):

Pete is suddenly heard over the radio and with the name of Combine Roadkill recalls something about them but only very vague... Oil he thinks but the type that don't like to share it.

"i hear you Pete, Will stop if waved down, don't want to look like a frightened chicken out here, if not then we just carry on."

Roadkill sits up straight and tall in his seat, one arm resting on the door to give the appearance of strength and a calmness. To be the experienced traveler one must look the part.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #238):

Brother Edgar takes a good long look over the gathered forces and defensive preparations.  Black Hats.  He had run afoul of the Combine's troopers before in his travels.  Their depredations stood directly opposed to the ideals of the Bright Utopia.

His normal glow seemed to brighten a flicker a bit more rapidly.  To Roadkill's wonderins, the Doomsayer begins to explain only to have Peter's radio crackle through.  Angrier at first at the idea of not assaulting this nest, but eventually his reason slips back in.  They were unprepared for such a fight.  They were too few.  They would lose and the enemy would remain, but the world would be less fo the loss of these companions...

With a sigh, Brother Edgar begins to maneuver into the sleeping area of the cab and allowing Nix to take the front seat, "It would be better if I were to remain unseen as we pass through.  These Black Hats look dimply upon mutants.  I will pray they do not search us."

Rowan answers
"Those people are not know for their friendly attitude Michaela"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #245):

Slowing down with Rowan, Michaela paced beside Roadkill's rig. She called up to the window, "what's the plan, chief? We stoppin' or rollin' through?"

In reply to Michaela Fukushima (msg #246):

Roadkill casually turns towards Michaela "Playing it by ear it seems, Ride through and act like everything is normal but be prepared to make a run for it. Pete seems to think we just keep our eyes on the road and don't look at them!"
With a big grin RK adds
"You'll be right, my big rig will look after ya"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:42, Thu 02 Dec 2010.

Rowan tucks in beside the big rig and rides through the area with it

In reply to Roadkill (msg #247):

Michaela nodded when Roadkill told her the plan but then rolled her eyes at his innuendo. "Oh Jesus Christ Roadkill, grow up."

He could tell she was digging him, at least a bit. Or at least was a little reassured by his bravado.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:52, Thu 02 Dec 2010.

It looked like they were going to be able to pass by, but the gate guard waved them down. His rifle remained slung but it was clear he wasn't expecting the convoy to put up a fight.

"Hey! Come on over here and stop now!" The Black Hat was a mean-looking acne-scarred young man, wearing tattered surplus fatigues (US and CS), boots and a black bandanna. He didn't seem upset or angry but his eyes were hard and his smile directed towards Rowan and Michaela wasn't all that friendly.

"I should inspect you... or I could let it go if you show me some, ah, consideration." It was obvious this punk was looking for a bribe of some kind.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:38, Mon 06 Dec 2010.

Rowan Slides the hover bike over towards the young man.
Her eyes and posture completely neutral.
"And what sort of consideration lets me and my friends pass through" ,she asks calmly.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #251):

The man smirked. "You and me, woman, we could party! But if you got any booze or weed, then I'll make an exception. That way, we can all party here, and you go on your way. We also got a campground for travelers. As long as you aren't enemies of the Combine, you're welcome to stay." His expression clearly meant he didn't give a fuck either way.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #251):

For once, Michaela held her tongue, merely looking back and forth between Rowan and the Black Hat thug.

Having stopped and seeing Rowan talk to the young man, Roadkill looks on with intrigue as he lights up.

He picks up the radio "you guys want to stay. Sounds like there is a park or something here, over"

OOC. Don't know the game time or how far away the other place is.

"May I remind you, Mr. Roadkill," offers Brother Edgar from his somewhat hidden place in the cab's sleeping area, "These men do not look kindly on we Chosen.  Staying too long would increase our risk of being found..."

Rowan voice remains calm, she answers in a soft persuasive voice

"How about a few ounces of weed so you can enjoy a quiet time".
"Much as camping sounds good we have places we need to be." "As to being an enemy, well I have never met your people so how can I be an enemy".

She considers for a moment
"I have a bottle of ghost juice you could have, some say you can drink it, but have never tried it my self".

"Do we have a deal?"

Arthur craned his neck, leaning over the side of the pickup's bed to see if he could make out anything happening at the front of the convoy.  He could hear voices, male and female, but the bulky semi-trailer pretty much blocked his view, and the fading light sure didn't help.  He suppressed the urge to ask Peter to radio up to Roadkill to see what was happening...things would happen or they wouldn't.

At least there hadn't been any gunshots.