Sam continues too sleep.....

With Bayer's blessing, Minh and Mariusz accompany the merchant caravan deeper into the village. As they pass the parked vehicles (initially out of sight on the east side of the municipal building), the self-proclaimed merchants take note. As they walk, they talk- shout really- with Mariusz translating back and forth for Minh.

"So, you chase off the local gangsters?"

"Yeah, they took off pretty fast when we showed up."

"Hmmm. Thanks. We usually have to offer them pretty steep 'discounts' to avoid trouble. It's not really very good for business. I suppose you've earned a discount yourself, if you care to trade, that is."

The merchant and his men seem to know the village fairly well. Heading down the main road, they slow as the group approaches a large garage- really just a high, corrugated tin roof supported by metal posts at the corners- that, at one time, probably housed the village collective's tractors. Now, it stands empty. It does however offer a fairly large, covered space- enough to shelter the five pack animals (three horses, three mules, and the camel) from the rain.

"Matt, see if you can get a fire started. Bruno, see to the animals.

"So you're soldiers, eh? NATO, I assume? What are you doing in these parts?"

"Just trying to get home. How about you?"

"Were heading to Kozienice for business. We were expecting a bit of rain, but nothing like this!"

"What do you trade in?"

"What do soldiers want most? Besides getting home, that is. They want to sleep, eat, and fuck- pardon my language. Well, we can't help 'em much with the last bit, but we've got plenty to eat and drink. If you've got some spare guns and ammo, we could work out a deal."

"Maybe. I'll have to talk to the officer in charge. Have you been to Gora Kalwaria? Are the bridges there still standing?"

"Ha! Gora Kalwaria? If you're trying to get home, you're heading in the wrong direction? No, the bridges are long gone. They've each been blown up a half-dozen times already! Pontoon bridges too- same thing. The locals set up a sort of ferry there, but it's no longer running. 'Pirates' run the river, now. I used to do business in the Warsaw area but they won't permit it. They're really giving the folks up there a hard time. If, uh, you're looking for... work, the people of Gora Kalwaria could use some experienced soldiers..."

Through Mariusz, Minh gives a polite, noncommittal answer and returns to the clubhouse to relay what she's gleaned to the others.

Next Moves?
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:02, Thu 19 Feb 2009.

Quyen passes on the information Mariusz and her learned, as well as to where in the village they are billeted. "We going to trade anything for food or anything? Do we even have anything to trade?"

Quyen also says, "Hauptmann, he did say the bridges were out. If it means anything, I'd still suggest you send your recce team anyways. He seems friendly but I don't trust him that far."

Dave follows as Minh and Mariusz lead the traders into the village. He's not sneaking or making threatening moves, just letting the traders know M & M aren't alone.

Mariusz chatted to the other traders, trying to get an angle on each of them. He helped to look after the animals as much as they would allow, whilst remaining careful not to annoy them by being too nosy or trying to get his hands on the merchandise.

As he spoke about the weather, general conditions and how bad life was since the war, he tried to find out more about the river pirates and the problems at Gora Calvarie. It wasn't a good sign he thought, the town was named after the hill of the dead that they crucified Jesus on, he hoped it wasn't a portent...

Bayer listens to Quyen and Mariusz without getting up. After a few moments he mumbles something about keeping an eye out and brains switched on... but he's doesn't seem to care on way or another regarding any fraternizing or trading with the traders.

At his shift time, he'll rise, kit up, and ensures that either him or Ondar have them under watch at all times.

October 12, 2000
1800hrs.
35F
Heavy clouds; freezing rain
Approx. 30km south of Gora Kalwaria

The next watch passes without incident. For a couple of hours at the front end of this period, Mariusz stays with the merchants, helping them unload, dry, and warm their pack animals. The more time spent with these men (one of them is the same age as Mariusz, almost to the day; the others are both approaching middle age), the more certain one becomes that they are indeed what they claim to be.

During this time, Mariusz learns a little more about Gora Kalwaria. The merchant leader, in particular, is a rather chatty fellow. He reveals much- probably more than he should- but his delivery of the information lends to the impression that he's making a not-so-subtle sales pitch.

Apparently, the town was sorely used during the fighting around Warsaw three years ago. Its twin bridges and good west-east road and train tracks made it an operational (if not strategic) lynchpin on the southern flank of Warsaw proper. The town was occupied and reoccupied by both sides, and was subjected to heavy artillery and air strikes throughout the siege and during the NATO withdrawal. Both bridges were repaired and/or rebuilt several times, only to be left in pieces as the NATO troops pulled out. In the immediate aftermath of the nuclear strikes on Warsaw, the town lost much of its strategic importance and was largely forgotten by Moscow and Lublim. Similarly, several military pontoon bridges- both NATO and WTO- layed across the river both up and downstream of the town were destroyed. A civilian-run ferry fashioned from one such abandoned British pontoon used to operate near the town but since the pirates arrived, its operations have been severely curtailed.

The pirates operate from a base several kilometers upstream from Gora Kalwaria. They appear to be affiliated in same way with the region's unofficial power, the "Black Baron" Czarny, a renegade Polish warlord with a growing reputation for ruthlessness. Apparently, his "army" recently defeated a Polish army division sent from Lublin to arrest him.

The town of Gora Kalwaria sounds like it has made a rather stunning recovery since the Soviet/WTO forces lifted the siege of Warsaw and pushed back the NATO armies. The town is being rebuilt and hundreds of refugees have flocked there from the surrounding areas. Some come to stay and take part in the rebuilding effort while others come as pilgrims, to pay their respects and, if they are particularly favored by the Almighty, to be healed of their ailments, especially cancer. These pilgrims bring gifts for the church, accounting for the town's growing prosperity and explaining, in part, this marchant caravan's affiliation with the town.

Apparently, there is a woman in Gora Kalwaria- a blind woman- who, solely by the laying on of hands, can destroy cancerous tumors. Supposedly, dozens of people have been cured by this miracle worker.

The leader of the community is a Polish priest by the name of father Andre. His right-hand man is a rather militant monk- a modern-day knight Hospitaler, if you will- who leads Gora Kalwaria's rather sizeable militia force. The group numbers nearly 200 but, the merchant leader confides, they are poorly armed, with just a few salvaged assault rifles supplemented by a handful of hunting rifles and shotguns. Most of the militiamen have to make due with garage-built crossbows, clubs, and spears. The merchant also hints that at least a couple of British servicemen serve in the militia.

The militia has so far been successful in chasing off marauder attacks by land, but the river pirates are growing increasingly aggressive. They are too mobile, too numerous, and too well armed to be put off by force and they have been making demands on the town for large quantities of food and more recently, ammunition. Gora Kalwaria has plenty of the former, but hardly any of the latter. The pirates have threatened to destroy the town and sell its surviving inhabitants into slavery if they do not comply with the pirates' demands.

Before Mariusz leaves, the merchant leader confides that he is heading to Kozienice to trade with the garrison their- a rather corrupt bunch, by the sound of it- for ammunition. Its not clear whether that ammunition, if obtained, is to be used for fighting or for paying off the river pirates.

By sundown, the intensity of the rain has diminished somewhat, but it is still bitterly cold. Large puddles- or pools, really- surround most of the town's buildings. By morning, it will likely be frozen solid. It looks like the merchant caravan is planning on staying the night. They sound determined to continue on to Kozienice in the morning, weather permitting.

Next Moves?

Griet awoke, still tried and stiff. She rolled out of her bedding and shivered at the freezing temperatures. She looked sadly around the wreck of what had once been a pleasant little village. Now it was a dessicated corpse, a corpse they inhabited like some form of grave worm.

She chatted briefly with the guard and got up to date with events. As her mind started to clear of the numbing fatigue that had dogged her in the battle the night before, she saw that whilst the effective members of the unit had left things in the best order they could, that order wasn't the most efficient for what they needed.

She busied herself stowing equipment away and gathering some of the filfth-encrusted clothes for processing. Griet doubted that they'd be able to wash them here, but she'd have to try. She called for Mariusz to try to find a large metal tub that they could boil water in and then shifted to categorising and unloading the weapons that they'd scrounged up in the never-ending firefight. She doubted that anyone would have been stupid enough to have left a scrounged weapon unloaded, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Mariusz nodded to Griet and looked over at the youngster he'd been chattin to. The young man seemed fascinated by the tricked up German rifle that Mariusz had been showing him, Mariusz could understand that, he was still in awe of it himself, the stylish lines and clean efficiency were just too cool...

He looked at the youngster and said, "OK, work to do, do you want to come or are you going to stay in the dry? I wouldn't blame you."

He reloaded the magazine of the G3 and chambered a round. Then he made sure he was wrapped up as best he could, the advantage of being so small was that he could wear a lot of layers, and then pulled on his rain-proof poncho. After his careful preparations, he picked up his rifle and prepared to go looking for a boiling untensil.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:02, Sat 21 Feb 2009.

Four short hours of sleep was barely enough to make a dent in Anneka's fatigue, but there was still work to do before the pitch blackness of night settled over them.
Rising from her deliciously warm sleeping bag, she tugged on her cold boots. RPK slung, Anneka made her way to the vehicles, searching for food, medicine and supplies they'd need during the night before bringing them back into their ramshackle home.

"Go back to sleep," she directed each of the wounded as she made her rounds, inspecting dressings, administering pain relief, sedatives or antibiotics as required.

Food was next on the list of priorities. Cooking pots brought from the tug found places at the fire, chicken and potatoes flavoured with items from her MREs simmering within. A loaf of white bread torn into chunks and lightly toasted sat on a plate nearby....
This message was last edited by the player at 12:37, Sat 21 Feb 2009.

Quyen goes back to sleep.

ZZZzzzzzz

Dawid slept on, slight rise and fall of his breathing being the only sign he was not yet one of the dead.

Jason had fallen back to sleep despite the discomfort from his wound, and continues to sleep until awakened (or around 2200, whichever comes first).

Tucker can barely keep his eyes open even though there's been some new activity in their makeshift camp.  When he see/hears Anneka making her rounds, he goes back to his little piece of 'real estate' and goes back to sleep.

October 13
0800hrs.
35F
Heavy clouds; snow flurries
Approx. 30km south of Gora Kalwaria

Mariusz finds a on old porcelain bathtub- cracked but not broken- in one of the nearby homes. After filling it with bits of wood found inside the same home, he drags it to the clubhouse.

He sets up a makeshift fireplace close to, but not underneath, an opening in the ceiling, providing for ventilation. Soon, he's got a crackling fire going. There's only enough fuel for a few hours of fire. Despite it's short duration, the fire provides welcome added warmth.

Dawn breaks cold. The previous day's rain has frozen solid, patches of ice now surround the shelter. Members of the party awake, cold, stiff but refreshed. One of the sentries sees on of the merchants approaching the shelter through the lazily falling snow.

The merchant wishes to speak with a representative of the party. He informs them that they will be departing shortly for Kozienice and asks if the party wishes to trade any ammunition (any NATO or WTO rifle or LMG rounds) for fresh food (butter, cheese, sausages, whiskey and wine).

Next Moves?

Bayer shrugs tiredly at the request and looks to Anneka and Adam. He was hungry. "Someone should go. Anyone."

Sam will awake in the morning and clean the area around him out to 25 feet Pie. he will then change and clean his wound take a few sedative and antibiotics and then make a bed out of his pack and blanket. He will clean and reload his rifle then go back too sleep the sedatives taking there tool.


Sam
Sleeping

"I'll do it," Anneka stated sounded refreshed and ready to face the day.
"Stoner, can you prep the surgical gear while I'm gone please. We've still got a bullet to remove from Kasparov and there's a few others who might need stitching up properly."

Outside, Anneka greets the merchant warmly before settling in to the important task of trade.
"How much will you offer for an AK-74 and two dozen full magazines?" she asked in near perfect Polish, well aware the size of their group required a substantial amount of food each day.

As dawn passes and the early morning activity wakes him up Jan shifts position in his sleeping bag and tries to to go back to sleep. Finally deciding his leg hurts enough to keep him up fo a while he gets up. Limping he makes his way outside long enough to take care of the early morning neccessities before returning to the relative warmth of the building.

Griet stood up as Mariusz brought in his finds, "Excellent work, Mari," she said, "I'll get the water boiling and we can get the crap off the clothes. Why don't you look over what food we have and see if you can cook something up? I'll see if I can get more wood."

She looked around and said, "Is anyone able to come with me when I scrounge for wood, two is safer than one?"

She left the question hanging and said to Bayer, "Sir, I have both my Tantal and an AKSU as personal weapons, if we lose our transport I can't carry both, I'd be happy to put the AKSU into the communal pot, it might keep us going a few more days."

Groaning, Dawid woke up. Someone had dragged him close to the fire, and the heat worked its way into his stiff muscles.

His leg was stiff and sore, bandages crusted with dried blood. He was also famished and so ate some bread and sausage, rations stored in his pack, washing it down with water from his canteen. His leg collapsed when he tried to support his weight on it, so he hopped around a little and crawled when he needed to, leg and head throbbing from the exertion. He saw Mariusz tending the fire.

"Ah shit. Well, at least we are alive."

"Mariusz, thank you so much for the firewood. The fire is a godsend!"

Before he collapsed again he cleaned his PKM, sitting by the fire, absorbing its heat. Once done with cleaning the weapon, he replaced the non-disintegrating belt and collected the spent casings from the brass-catcher for later reloading. He checked the new belt for obviously flawed ammunition to cut down on future ammunition stoppages.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:55, Tue 24 Feb 2009.

Mariusz nursed the fire like it was an ailing child and prepared what cooking utensils he had. He surveyed the paltry amount of food they had left and quickly started to work out the most effective way of cooking and rationing it.

The chickens they had needed to be eaten today. He deftly cut the meat from the carcass and set the three carcasses into a pot of water to start boiling up a stock. The stock and some potatoes would make a hearty soup and he'd cook half of the chicken in with the soup and crisp fry the rest to serve as a crispy garnish. He looked around at the people here. They were tired and looked like they were dead on their feet, they needed something solid inside them to help restore them.

After the stock began to boil, he set the chicken aside and cut slices of bacon for their frying pan. He cooked the rashers slowly to start with in order for them to release their fat. Once the bacon was well cooked, he fried one side of rounds of wholemeal bread in the fat and started to deliver sandwiches to those that were awake. He continued to make them for anyone who asked for them.

Smelling the sandwiches he perked up. "Oh yes, Mariusz, that smells great! I'll have one, please."

'No problem. You're looking bright eyed an bushy tailed this fine morning."
Dave opens up his & Anneka's medical packs and quickly sterilizes the surgical intsruments before Mariuzs throws the chicken in the pot. Then he sets them aside on the inside of a dressing package, preserving the cleanliness as much as possible.

Taking a sandwich from Mariusz, Dave nods his thanks. "Hey, did you ever find out where they got the camels? There's got to be a story behind that."