The Krolowa weighs anchor and begins to drift, under power, towards Grudziaz. Like most large settlements along the river, the outskirts of the city look to be largely abandoned. They likely bore the brunt of the fighting that obviously occurred here, and the badly damaged buildings at the edges of the city have been razed or cannibalized to repair buildings nearer the city center. As the tug creeps closer to the heart of Grudziaz, many of the buildings at the riverside also show signs of battle damage. Shell holes, some the size of a dinner plate, others large enough to drive a lorry through, perforate many of the structures with a view of the river. Some buildings appear poxed from the hundreds of bullet strikes that mar their facades, others are missing entire floors. Still, signs of life abound. It's still fairly early on a cold, late autumn day, but a few civilians are already out and about along the riverside. A rag-and-bone man loudly plies his trade, a dog pulling a small cart full of his wares. A gaggle of children bundled up against the cold kick a partially-inflated soccer ball down a cobblestone street. A particularly optimistic old man prepares a rod and line. Life goes on.
As the tug comes around a slight bend in the river, the rusty remains of a truss bridge stretch from bank to bank up ahead. Airstrikes and/or demolition charges dropped it years ago, and it's never been repaired. Instead, a pontoon bridge spans the river just upriver of the mangled, partially sunken trusses. There's a gap in the pontoons, presumably for security purposes but perhaps to allow river traffic to pass through as well. The missing segment is behind its nearest neighbor on the right (east), ready to be pushed into place to complete the span. The current gap in the pontoon bridge is aligned with a missing truss creating a clear lane about 100m wide through the man-made obstacles. On the east bank, overlooking the pontoon bridge, is the familiar insectoid profile of a ZU-23-2 AAA gun. Somewhat oddly, in your experience, the brown and grey-clad troops on the bank near the pontoon bridge don't seem alarmed by the approach of a large, heavily-armed vessel (no one thought or acted to cover the Vasilek and/or ZU so they are clearly visible from the shore). The Red Army solders mill about and gawk but, to your great relief, no heavy weapons are pointed directly at the tug. Perhaps the tug's snail-like speed indicates a lack of aggressive intent. A soldier bearing traffic control paddles jogs out from the east bank to the gap in the pontoons and starts signaling to the approaching tugboat. She (as you get closer, you can tell that the signaler is a woman) points with a paddle downriver and towards the east bank. It appears as though she wants the Krolowa to put in somewhere on the downriver side of the bridges. Through his binoculars, Walter spots the docking facilities, accessed through a cut in the east bank about 450m past the bridges. He points them out to Griet and the tricky process of docking the severely underpowered tug begins.
Struggling to steer and mitigate against the current at less than half-power and on only one screw, Griet nearly crashes bow-on into the reinforced concrete buttress on the starboard (her right) of the entryway. [
rolled 20]. Fortunately, at the last second Walter is able to wrestle the wheel over hard enough to effect a glancing blow instead, tearing off some of the few remaining tires* that serve as bumpers along the starboard bow, but avoiding serious damage to the tug's hull [
rolled 3]. Drenched in sweat from the exertion and the near disaster, Walter and Griet finally bring the Krolowa in snug against the sheltered pier and deckhand Luboslaw leaps ashore to tie her off.
The partially enclosed dock is already home to three other vessels, a fishing boat about a third smaller than the Krolowa, a water taxi, and another river tug. This latter vessel is not a twin to the Krolowa; it's slightly smaller and looks significantly older, though it's not entirely decrepit. Based on the previous vessels that you examined at Swiecie (the derelict barges and cannibalized motor launches), these three seem to have been in use up until quite recently; perhaps they're still in use. The place smells like fish and bilge water.
The harbor master, a goateed, tiny-eyed, middle-aged man with a long halo of gray hair protruding from beneath his black watch cap, appears, accompanied by a girl- presumably his daughter- of about Mariusz's age. The man, who gives his name as Jurgen, is not particularly surprised by your arrival, until he learns that you've come from upriver.
"Krakow? That's a first! We get traffic down from the coast, but not much coming from the other direction. I'll bet you've seen some pretty crazy shit along the way."
He makes a little more small talk, while his daughter flirts a bit with Mariusz. In his official capacity, Jurgen comes aboard the tug and performs a cursory inspection.
"Don't worry- it's purely routine. I've just got to make sure that you're not carrying any hazardous materials." He looks around, making little tallies on his clipboard.
"A ton of guns and no cargo: 'merchants', you said?" he asks, knowingly.
"Look, as far as I'm concerned, long as you can afford the docking fee and you don't go causing trouble, you're welcome to stay here. The Russians might have some questions, though, when they see this." he continues, holding up the clipboard and twisting it sharply from side to side. His meaning is clear. A single golden bullet and, with a few additional pencil strokes, "all of the paperwork is in order". Jurgen explains that firearms aren't allowed in the city; even the occupying Red Army soldiers have to keep their guns unloaded within the city limits.
Dressed in civilian garb and non-NATO uniform odds and ends, two shore parties assemble on deck. One is tasked with finding the much-needed spare parts for the Krolowa, the other with securing provisions for the crew and dry goods for trade downriver.
Jurgen points you in the general direction of the business district, located, like most towns in Poland, centrally in and around the town square.
"The marketplace won't be open quite yet, but the weather's good today so give it about an hour. A couple of indoor shops and cafes might be open already, though. Good luck with your business and stay out of trouble."
The two groups head towards the market square down narrow streets, most of them quaintly cobbled, of the old town. The terrain slopes gently upward away from the river, most of the city built on a low rise, safely removed from the floodplain. The buildings here are fairly old, some dating back to the 16th and 17th centuries, and most of them have seen better days. The further from the river you travel, the less battle damage you notice. Attempts have been made, some cruder than others, to repair the wounds caused by past bouts of fighting.
After covering about a half-kilometer, you meet your first Red Army troops. A couple of Soviet soldiers, rifles slung, walk past you headed in the other direction. Their stares are not openly hostile, but they're not at all friendly either. As you glance back at them, you notice that no magazines are currently seated in their Kalashnikovs. You round a corner and continue on your way. A few minutes later, you glance back again and see that seven or eight soldiers are walking in the same direction as you, about 15m behind your party, steadily closing the distance. They too are carrying their rifles slung, although from this angle, you can't really tell if these are loaded are not. The two you saw earlier might by among them but since they're all more or less dressed the same, it's hard to be sure. As you continue on your way, one of the soldiers shouts out (in Russian),
"Hey! You! Hold up!" This is repeated two seconds later by a second shout, this time in Polish (the message, however, is the same). Something about this lot tells you that they're not here to give you a welcome basket.
https://www.google.com/maps/d/...w8YU&usp=sharing
*The tug is short of tires, many having been shot to pieces or torn off since Krakow. You might want to add some to your shopping lists.
Your Move.
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This message was last edited by the GM at 23:31, Sat 20 June 2015.
