Dakota Jack scrambled to hop back into the technical from his observation post.

He turned just in time to see the technical starting up and about to leave.  "Michaela!" he called out, running over to take her hand and scrambling to leap into the technical together.

Peter waited until they were all back in their 'seats' in the rear before starting forward. He wasn't mean enough to start without them or play the trick of starting and stopping when one tried to get on. He just looked at Jane in the rearview a moment before heading out.

Like a knight on his steed, Arthur Dayne held onto the technical, his sword in his left hand, hanging over the side of the vehicle, ready to cut down any opposition they should face or leap into action if necessary.  It might have looked a bit ridiculous to others, but for Arthur it seemed normal for some reason.

In reply to Arthur Dayne (msg #64):

"Oh, shit! Right behind you!"

Running after Arthur, Michaela was able to catch his hand and swing on board, and they both helped Dakota Jack into the back.

Jane was still stationed at her post, looking out for any sign of danger. This wouldn't be the first time that she would be shooting while the vehicle was in motion. She shouted a simple "A-OK." as Peter warned the group that they were moving out.

She briefly wondered what was happening to the others wondering what the others would find down at the village. She didn't let the thought distract her for long, knowing that in situations like this, distractions like that could get you killed. The soldier was once again scanning her surroundings looking for any sing of danger.

The truck's starter turned over and Smoker saw twin plumes of greenish Ghost Juice smoke belch from the truck's stacks. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.

"Hang on!" he said to Rowan. He decided to not call Roadkill, it was obvious what was happening and where they were going. Letting the binoculars hang from their straps Smoker grabbed his FN and sat down.

"Man, I was just there yesterday. Those are good people." He left his thought unfinished.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:18, Fri 09 July 2010.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg #69):

Heeding Smoker's advice, Rowan got low in the fighting position with him.

"Oh, I'm not feeling good about this. I hope your friends are all right."

Arriving at the front of the building, Col Schaeffer saw Brother Edgar standing there, shocked at the wanton carnage in front of him. He covered the front of the compound, but he couldn't keep the crosses and those affixed to them from his mind.

Roadkill arrived next, and what he saw rocked him severely. He'd just seen these people the day before, and here they were. Arriving soon after, Peter's, Dakota's and Arthur's reactions were similar. Being a little farther away and removed, Rowan and Smoker were a little less-affected. Not completely unaffected but handling it the best were Michaela and Jane.

One thing Jane noticed was that there seemed to be far fewer people crucified than actually lived there. Twenty souls were nailed to the crosses, but around eighty had lived there. Unless there were more bodies inside one of the buildings or behind them, most people seemed to have escaped the slaughter.

Further, Smoker determined that it wasn't just weird Doomsayer powers that laid the settlement to waste but various small arms. Spent brass in the gravel and dust twinkled in the sunlight.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:30, Sat 10 July 2010.

Shaken (and shaking) from the brutality, Smoker wrenched his attention away. He had the presence of mind to note that there were a lot of new bullet-holes that weren't there the day before. Plus, there were shell casings on the ground belonging to a range of weapons.

"Hey, looks like the Doomsayers were using guns as well as their powers. Or there was someone else here?"

He paused for a second, realising something "Those Doomies said they were gonna look east for me. I say let's get the fuck north before they figure out they've been had!"

Climbing down, he examined some of the brass casings to see what calibre weapon(s) it came from.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:31, Sat 10 July 2010.

Rowan stayed where she was, not wanting to walk among the grisly forest.

"This is such a terrible thing, such an unholy and terrible thing. Who or what could have done this, and why? Was it those other Doomsayers? This is wicked, evil."

Staying up on the trailer she could focus on the horizon, using her binoculars to see if whoever did this was coming back for them.

Jane looked at the scene and slowly started putting the parts together. Jane sounded bitter as she was speaking her opinion. "No, we can't allow these monsters to continue going around killing innocent townsfolk. It probably was the Doomsayers who did this... We should chase them down and put them out of their misery before they can cause more havoc."

The sight was affecting Jane, reminding the woman of the losses she had suffered due to the war. It didn't scare her instead, it angered her. According to those lunatics, the war was a good thing. Not only that, from what she knew the cult was bent on nothing more than the genocide of the entire human race. "I know this doesn't seem very rational but if Smoker is being chased anyway, it is in our best interest to fight the Doomsayers now rather than letting them prepare an ambush for us latter."

The thought of abandoning the man didn't even cross Jane's mind but disposing on the other hand disposing of the threat seemed like a good idea to her.
This message was last edited by unknown at 00:49, Sat 10 July 2010.

Dakota looked green in the gills from the grisly sight.  "That's worse than taking your sister to prom an' then makin' out wit' her afterward...  but what're ya talkin' about Gunny, we ain't go no clue if'n these sickos is still here or not."

He kneeled with his hands braced against his hips, trying to stop the gymnastics his stomach was doing (OOC Dakota Jack is resting to recover any Wind damage taken).  "An as much as ah'm personally in favor of shooting some varmint fer this, well I hate to say it folks but we got to clean this mess up.  Not it!"

Unable to make it very far into the field of crosses, Brother Edgar reels.  The brutality.  The senselessness.  The visceral sights and smells just overwhelm his senses despite his determination.  The rumble of the approaching truck snaps him out of his reverie.  Gloved hands swat at the swarming flies as he makes his way back out again slowly.  Free from the corpse stand, the Doomsayer trudges towards the others vehicles.  For once, he doesn't seem to have any words at all.  His hood is pulled a little bit farther, his eyes obscured but the glow still flickering within the shadows.

In reply to Jane Guin (msg #74):

Somehow the horror of the scene seemed to transform in some strange way within Michaela to anger and rage.

She nodded in complete agreement with Jane.

"My daddy would say in times like this there's only one thing you can say:

"Semper Fi, do or die! If we're going to fight them some time, let's do it on our terms."

Arthur was expecting something a little more inspired by Bushido or Musashi-esque, as he thought her father was a neo-Samurai warrior serving the Daimyo of Portland.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Sat 10 July 2010.

It had taken Arthur a few moments to recover from the sight, but he had done so in his own silent and stoic way, despite the feelings of despair he had experienced that were likely visible on his face had he not turned away from everyone at the time.  He had reeled a bit, and almost lost his balance but had caught himself on the truck at the time and used it to hold himself up while he dealt with the visceral reaction he experienced to this level of carnage.

"I am inclined to agree with Michaela and Jane.  Perhaps our own Doomsayer could part with some advice on how to best handle the more unsavory of his type?  I have never had cause to fight a Doomsayer yet.  What is their approach then the battle is joined?"

Peter stopped the truck as they surveyed the scene. His lips tightened together and simultaneously curled back a bit in disgust. He put a fist to his mouth for a moment to help himself keep from vomiting. But it didn't work. He leaned out the open window and puked, trying to avoid the side of the truck as he did so. Once he was finished, he sat there quietly while the others talked for a moment. He then slowly shook his head and began driving forward and trying to get past the scene as quickly as possible, after wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

14:42, Today: Peter Firecrow rolled 1 using 1d6, rerolling max. Wind loss.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:57, Sat 10 July 2010.

As soon as the others arrived, the Colonel turned away from the crosses. Having been raised an agnostic, he'd never felt overly comfortable around religious symbols. Now, he might never be able to associate crosses with anything but crucified innocents again.

As soon as the mutilated corpses were out of his sight, Shaeffer regained his composure and began to search the nearest building for survivors or usable salvage.

This wasn't the first time Arthur had dealt with being sickened by a grisly sight. If anything, his Templar training had prepared him for it fairly well, but he had never had a particularly strong stomach.  It was something he envied his squire, Michaela.  He had learned several ways of dealing with the nausea, but the most common way that even trained doctors recommended was the use of ginger, as he sometimes tended to forget.  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small piece of dried ginger that he kept with him.  Within a few minutes...he felt much, much better.

Not having an opinion on whether to run or fight, instead, Rowan did what she did best. Ignoring her own feelings she began helping out Smoker, opening up her Paramedic bag and giving him some water, checking his vital signs and breathing, talking to him softly, getting him to look at her and not the corpses.

"Everyone, I want to make sure everyone's all right and not in shock. Otherwise, I'll do whatever you all decide."

"Come on, let's get out of sight of this terrible scene."

When she was done with him, Rowan climbed down and did the same for the people who were worst affected. Col Schaeffer was already inside, and it seemed to her that not everyone was affected the same so she skipped over Michaela and Jane.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:35, Sat 10 July 2010.

The people who'd been through there before (Peter, Roadkill, Jane and Smoker) all recognised the body on the most prominent cross. It was a Law Dog named Raoul Mendoza, who was also the de facto Mayor of Shalam Colony. Beside him was his wife Kate and two teenage children, they couldn't even remember their names. There didn't seem to be any other of the community's children, including the Mendoza's youngest children.

At Rowan's urging, everyone moved out of sight or at least away from the crucifixes. With Arthur's and Rowan's help and some water, everyone felt a lot better and less shaky after about 5-10 minutes.

Inside during that time, COL Schaeffer found that someone had already been through and cleaned out the valuables and medical supplies and batteries. There is still a considerable quantity of food and there's an indoor pump with some warm and slightly muddy water.

It was clear that someone had been through and already carefully removed all valuables. There was surprisingly little breakage. He did find a small silver crucifix on a chain that had fallen on the floor.

He didn't find any survivors inside the buildings, but discovered foot tracks in the yard. They might have been made before or during the attack, but it appeared someone took the time to cover them up.

There were stills for making Ghost Juice and another for alcohol, but they were destroyed. The above-ground Ghost Juice storage tank was burned-out (which provided most of the greenish smoke above them). In back, he found a hidden cache of Ghost Juice in a buried tank, still about half-full of fuel. There would be enough to fill the Rig and the Technical's tanks with some left over.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Sat 10 July 2010.

After he finished searching the buildings, Shaeffer returned to the other members of the posse.

"Somebody's already cleaned the place out, but as they were very careful I guess there's survivors hiding nearby. There's some ghost juice in a hidden tank and a water pump and food. I'm going to check the tracks, maybe I can find out where they lead.

The Colonel waits long enough for anyone to ask questions, then he walks back to the yard and begins to carefully follow the tracks.

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg #84):

After a few more minutes the Colonel was still unable to pick up a trail good enough to follow. He knew he would probably find something eventually, but the question was if they had enough time.

Roadkill had stared in horror at the forest of crucified civilians. He had seen a lot in his days but ever since he had started caring about people again instead of preying on them he had found himelf a lot more effected by such scenes of brutality. A wellspring of suppressed emotions and bad memories flooded to the surface and the trucker left his seat to go to the back and retch into the cab's toilet for a long time.

Once Roadkill has his stomach (and his nerve) back under control he exits the cab and look at the bodies with sadness. "Unfortunately I don't think we have the tools or the time to dig graves. We could take them down and maybe bury them all together under some rocks. It won't be pretty, but do we have any other options? I'd say burn 'em but I've seen my share of bodies set on fire. It just turns 'em black and crunchy I'm afraid."

"The spook juice will help get the rig to St Louis. That's where I'm still headed. I agree that these Doomsayers are bad fellas who deserve a bullet or three but how are we going to find 'em? Five of those nuke throwing bastards are bad news and stumbling on them blindly might just get us all blown into radioactive ash."

The Doomsayer was quiet for a long time.  He nodded gently to any questions or directions, following along with most of the rest.  Overall, his head stays low, his hood drawn up.  The few glimpses of his face that can be managed show deep thought, anger, anguish.

He does eventually rejoin the conversation.  Suddenly lifting his head, shifting his hood back again.  Trying his best to return to his old self.  As Roadkill indicates the possible consequences of facing the group of Doomsayers, Edgar offers, "Yes, stumbling into them would be highly dangerous.  They wield powers comparable to my own, if not greater.  Caution should be the watchword to handle them."  Considering for a moment, he continues, "Their weakness is their pride.  They feel they are invincible.  They are mistaken.  A bullet will kill them as easily as anyone.  They can be distracted, scattered, surrounded."  Turning back to Colby, he adds grimly, "You also have your own "nuke-throwing bastard" to counter them.  My oath to my Order says that I must destroy these evolutionary mistakes before they can do much more harm..."