“We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”

-Martin Luther King Jr.

Sunday, October 1st, 2000 -0830hrs.
On the western outskirts of Nowy Huta, Poland
55 F
Clearing Fog, Visibility 75-200m

The Ural slowly and cautiously pushes east along the road. The trees that bordered the road for the past three kilometers have thinned out considerably, giving way to the abandoned, burned out remains of suburban sprawl. Up ahead the cracked and twisted concrete and steel carapace of the once proud industrial city of Nowy Huta can be glimpsed through the thinning mist, bearing silent testament to the horrors of modern nuclear war.

The Ural slows and turns right on to an unmarked dirt road. This road is even more poorly maintained than the last, with alternating stretches of washboard ridges and deep, water filled chuckholes. The fog is a bit heavier here, further from the highway. You pass through a stretch of fire-blackened woods, victims of the flash fires that followed in the wake of three 20 kiloton nuclear airbursts that leveled most of Nowy Huta. After five or so minutes of bone-jarring progress, Uller points towards the chopped-off stub of a medieval looking spire thrusting out of the fog.

“That is the Abbey. We are close.”

As you near, you can make out the gothic lines of a decrepit Cistercian Abbey, Adam’s base of operations for the last several months. An armed man can be seen keeping watch from under a tarp in the remains of the Abbey’s low bell tower. He gives the truck a curt wave as it drives by. The truck continues on past the Abbey and winds its way south towards a low hill atop which can be seen a crude and poorly camouflaged watch tower. Uller waves again, presumably at whoever is stationed there. As you round the edge of the hill, he speaks, “This hill is called the Tumulus of Wanda. There is a legend that a Polish queen drowned herself in the river here instead of marrying a German prince. Stupid bitch…”

The truck passes the hill on the right and the landscape begins to drop steeply. The track passes through more bare trees, although these were spared blast damage since they lay in the shadow of the hill. Looking down over the railing, you can see the Vistula below, gray in the diffuse morning light. The truck descends slowly along the narrow and muddy path winding its way through the trees before finally pulling to an abrupt halt in a flat, open space, close to the low bank of the river. The clearing has been denuded of surface vegetation by the passage of many feet and vehicle tires. Currently, it is a bit soggy due to the recent rains.

A large camouflage net is hung high in the naked trees, presumably to hide the tug from the shoreward side. Various tools and crates lie among piles of filled sandbags under a blue tarp set up on the edge of the clearing. A small pier, constructed of plywood and two-by-fours laid over floating 55gal. drums protrudes from the shore line. And there, black hull and white superstructure rising proudly up from the swirling, brown river, is your new home and place of business for the foreseeable future…

Adam pops from the driver-side door and says proudly, “There she is! The Wisla Krolowa- my Vistula Queen. She is beautiful, no?”

OOC: This is the time to begin discussing modifications (up arming and armoring) to the Queen, berthing arrangements, watches and duty stations, what to do with the prisoner, etc.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:25, Thu 14 June 2007.

As they walk back toward the truck after the call to bring to it, John will speak in low tones to the gunny.


"Guns, Cpl. Yazzie, 5th Mardiv, 5th Recon Battalion, Company A, Direct Action Platoon. I have your back. Us Marines have to stick together."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:55, Thu 14 June 2007.

Tucker is a little embarrassed that he has to lay down on his stomach for the remainder of the ride to the ship but, he knows that he'll catch hell from Anneka is he doesn't comply.  He makes the most of his duffle bag and MOLLE pack to make the trip as comfortable as possible until they reach the Vistula River and Old Adam's boat.

Upon hearing Uller make his comments about the abbey and wave to his fellow companions, Tucker disregards his comments and just wants to get out of the back of the Ural feeling a bit more uncomfortable after the slow, bumpy ride.  Tucker happily slides out the back of the truck as easily as he can once the persons in front of him have gotten out as well.  He slides his pack and his duffel bag to the rear of the vehcile and leaves them there for the time being until he's told where to stow his items.

"She's a welcome sight Captain!  She looks like she's in damn good shape too," Tuck says to Adam when he comments on his boat.  "Where would you like us to stow our gear Captain?"

Hopping out of the truck and looking at his new temporary home he smiles.  Cleaning off the lens of his camera he levels it up and takes several pictures, one of which being a close up of the name of the boat.  Then he takes a couple of the abbey and a couple up the river.  Looking at the counter he notices he only has three pictures left on the roll so he spins around and takes the last three of the group of soldiers of the security team and the Captain.  As he begins to rewind the film in the camera he walks back to the truck,  "Let me know if I can help loading the Krolowa."

[NPCed]

"Thanks Cpl. Semper Fi. I'll do the same for you. Remember though, we're all gonna need to get along and work well together to survive this little cruise. You should probably start to get to know some of the others. I think some of 'em don't even know your name."

After a moment he adds, "And Cpl., what's the deal with keeping those teeth? I thought you Ind... -Native Americans- had a thing about the remains of the dead."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:57, Thu 14 June 2007.

"Thank you." Adam responds, beaming at the Queen. "You can leave your personal gear in the passageways until we know where you will be. But, you Mr. Tucker, should not be carrying your own baggage with that injured leg. I will get someone to carry it for you. Uller!"

Uller scowls down from the back of the Ural.

"Ha-ha-ha! He does not like the jokes, sometimes." continues Adam, ammused at his own.

Then he shouts something in Polish towards the tug, presumably to the crew at work there. Several heads pop up from hatches and doors, surveying the newcomers wearily.

"Those are my crew. They are good men. I will introduce you." he says, addressing everyone.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:42, Thu 14 June 2007.

Snowy's spent the ride watching the prisoner, he's swapped his weapon over for an evil looking tactical remington 870P shotgun, and good naturedly hassling Bluey about leaving the UAZ 469 behind.

"Honest mate, it was the pimp-mobile from hell, we shoulda kept it. Even you could score with that cool looking truck! That is, of course, if the girls couldn't see in."

When they arrive, Snowy stows his weapon and helps the prisoner to the ground. He looks around and says to the man "(Polish) Sit over there. Do not move. You will not be harmed." He cuffs him to something large and immoveable with his other cuffs, and ensures he's comfortable. Then he moves anything remotely useful in an escape from his radius of reach.

Going back to the truck, he slides his pack out and sits it next to Bluey's and Max's packs. Keeping an eye on the prisoner, he says "Awesome! A tug!"

In low tones to the gunny as they walk.

"All tribes are differnt. We respct our dead. But we have and will contiue to take parts of others dead. Scalps and other things. Iam using this to eat.When times get hard gold pays the bills. Yea i might say hi but i dont or wont talk unless i have something good to say."


On the truck ride to the tug John will keep watch with his weapon outboard. Once they reach the camp he will dismount and follow the gunny's moves and actions.

The throbbing roar of the Ural echoed loudly in the quiet as it came into view.  Black smoke from the alcohol-burning engine belched out the exhaust stack into the morning sky as the truck down-shifted through some boggy patches.  It finally came to a shuddering halt in the muddy clearing, Vaailek

Dressed in Polish battledress green beret, Dawid stood up from where he was huddled on an ammo crate, smoking.  Beside him was a camouflaged Polish Army pack and beside that a PKM GPMG resting on its bipod.  He sauntered over to the truck, noting the bullet holes in front and the towed mortar in behind.  Smiling, took a drag from his cigarette and then called out in Polish,

"Adam, you old river rat!  A Vasilk!  I told you you'd find something good if you looked hard enough in Krakow, but this is great!"

He walked around to the rear of the truck to get a better look at the towed mortar, also eying the foreign mercenaries, then stopped short when he saw the prisoner.

In good English he said, "I'm Dawid.  I'll be running that beast you got there.  Who's this guy?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:06, Thu 14 June 2007.

[NPCed]

"Fair enough, Corporal." Gunny replies, unloading his own gear from the Ural.

Snowy looks him over and nods. "I'm Snowy, this is Bluey and Max. And this here is an EPW who met us with a hasty ambush on the way. We're trying to think of some way of processing him properly without doing him a disservice, he was only doing his job and bouncing NATOs."

"That's an offer I can't pass up Captain!  I appreciate it," Tucker says to Adam as he waits for his gear to be taken to the ship and stowed away.  He gingerly limps over to where the Aussie's are with the EPW.  "So, what's our friends deal here gentlemen?  He got anything good to say about why he attacked us?"

In seeing the Polish soldier come forth from the boat, "I'm Tucker.  Nice to meet you Dawid.  You're English is pretty good, you've been to the states before or did you learn it here?"