The seller, a middle-aged woman, held up five fingers. She waggled them at Trejo, perhaps to say "five and no less" or "bye-bye". "Five 9mm or the equivalent, or leave the goggles, pardner. Final offer."

"Wait... you're one of them fellers who killed the Anti-Bishop? Hell, just take them goggles and they're on the house, and God bless."

Crichton disappeared for a while into the stockroom of the hardware store.

Surprisingly, there was a block of 25x4mm available, for $125.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:33, Wed 21 Dec 2011.

"yeah totally weird, so unreal here" Roadkill nods in agreement, which he can do now as his headache is mostly gone. "Boise it is and that courier should be here any time soon" Roadkill smiles at the thought of getting back out on the road, arm out the window and the cool desert air blowing on his face. Sure he appreciates this place and the people but after spending years in the wide blue yonder and taking no orders from no one, unless they are what he wanted to do any ways, it just seems strange being in such a structured, even if flush with a bevy of different kinds of liquor, town.

"How many of us are gonna be headin out? I know it is me and the little guy Gillies and the other little guy smoker."

Rowan's purchases came to:

100x 7.62x39mm =       $100
20x .45ACP =            $20
Paramedic Bag restock = $10
25x 4mm =              $125

For all this man at the counter would take the Fusil-20, 20 rounds, and 2 mags in exchange.

"That'll do, Miss. Ammo isn't so much of a problem for us here, we have a plant that produces it."

"If you want 14 days of MREs (2 weeks), that's another $280 in trade."

Trejo pocketed the goggles and his ammo, then met up with the rest of the posse.

 Lugging a bunch of stuff out of the back. "Yeah I'm going needed to resupply the heavy stuff is coming in a minute. Need a few parts to make medkits."

 Rowan thinks about it for a moment and turns to Kurt

"Kurt what do we need in food do you think,I have some Silver jewlry that I can trade for food if we need to"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:07, Wed 21 Dec 2011.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #344):

Kurt came to Rowan's side and bent slightly to kiss the top of her head.

"Thank you for the ammo, love, it is appreciated. If you need any hlep with the scope, I think I can provide it. We'll just have to talk to Azrael about using the militia's range, if they have one."

He considered her question for a moment.

"To tell the truth, I don't know. I'm not sure how far away Boise is. I still carry MREs for four days, so we have food for two days for us. Hm... I could always do some hunting of course. Maybe, there's a way for me to do some jobs while we wait for the convoy's courier to arrive. It would save you from having to sell you jewellry.

Rowan chuckles yea we carry on camping.
"And I will make up some of my specials, in the morning"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:07, Wed 21 Dec 2011.

Near Wichita

Evening, Maxie's Diner

The posse (passengers and crew) finished their trading. Crichton disappeared into the city junkyard and returned with a city worker towing a borrowed dolly, on it were different auto parts.

Nothing much was happening in town; it was a Sunday in a God-fearing Kansas town. The kind of place where "rolling up the sidewalks" was an apt expression, if there were one.

At Mayor Quinn's invitation, the posse (technically: Roakill, Smoker, Peter, Jane), their passenger (Airen) and fellow travellers (Michaela, Schaeffer, Rowan/Trickster, Trejo) ate at Maxie's on his tab. He said he'd try and join then after he finished up work, but the sun was starting to go down and he hadn't shown. As it used to be a McDonald's restaurant they were served, what else? Hamburgers.

As Peter mentioned earlier, it seemed everyone was heading towards Boise, more or less. This seemed somewhat coincidental; Airen had business there, and Rowan was returning Chance's sword for a $500 reward with Schaeffer helping out. Michaela was also returning Arthur's sword, and Trejo was going along, well, just because.

Rowan would have returned the sword to Boise even with out the reward. She feels that some one needs to tell them how there people fell and why.

Smoker wiped the grease from his plate, licked his fingers. "Sure, but the $500 will help pay for fuel, food and ammo. Can't speak for Roadkill. You could always go on your own, with that sweet hoverbike."

Rowan chuckles
"This is true of course."
"But in seriousness they do deserve to have their stories told so their bravery is not forgotten".
"I am going to remember this stop over with real pleasure, it has been good to find such places can still exist"

Nodding to what Smoker has to say
"hey when they said take the sword back and get 500 I was first to say that I would do it. I don't know about the rest of you but this isn't some sort of charity bus."

*shudders*
This message was last edited by the player at 03:16, Fri 23 Dec 2011.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #351):



Smoker laughed. "Not first come first served, Boss! Rowan's the one with the sword. Talk to her about your payment."

Outside, a rig pulled up in the parking lot.

"Not first come you say smokes. Guess that sword was gifted to her by the undead bishop." he shakes his head
"Not on my watch son"



"Hey Mr fixit, what type of truck do you think that is that just pulled up" He gestures to smoker

In reply to Roadkill (msg #355):

"Looks like a Dae Woo cab-over. Shit, looks like Jesse "Corndog" Hambro. Personal delivery boy for Mattox. Bet he's our contact!" He gulped down his water as if he knew he might not have a chance to get to it later.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:33, Fri 23 Dec 2011.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #355):

It was an armoured cab-over,a 20mm M120 Vulcan in a 360-degree mount on the roof. The tractor was pulling an armoured van trailer with a large fortified fighting position on top. The crew were armed but not acting hostile. They jumped off and disembarked, sauntering towards the restaurant across the broken concrete, stretching as they ambled.

The first through the door was a giant of a bare-chested man in a leather vest and trucker hat. His crew, about a half-dozen strong, banged through the door behind him, setting the bell tinkling.

"Howdy! Any of you folks know of a driver named Roadkill? Supposed to be lazin' 'bout somewhere 'round here! Got a message for him an' a package for delivery. Chop-chop!"

Maxie, the restaurant owner, bustled over and started setting up a couple tables.

It sounded like indeed, the Convoy had found them.

Rowan shudders at the shear over kill of opening a door, then hearing the question, jerks her hand in the general direction of Road kill, "see the man over there looking all keen and eager thats him"

Roadkill becomes happier than a woman on her wedding day... that she actually wanted and spent a year organising.
"Over here, lazin about with this lot. Got bored waiting for you guys"
he smiles
"what you got and say it slowly so i don't have to repeat it to this guy after"
He points to smoker and grins.

In reply to Roadkill (msg #359):

In response, Smoker adopted a confused look while attempting to eat a French fry by mashing it into his bearded cheek. "Won't... go... in... mouth!"

"Ha, yeah, looks like a retard all right." Corndog removed his mesh trucker's hat, running his hand through his short, thinning red hair. "Okay, got your assignment. Lots of shit happening right now, got a priority transport to Boise. Messenger. I'm heading south from here in the morning. I'll hand off the package and the messenger now. Made an arrangement with the locals to fill your tanks and supply you with food and water for a week. Got that? Want me to write it down, draw ya a picture?"

He counted the people present. "I count nine plus the messenger. Food and water for ten for 1 week. Boise is 1300 miles. Should take about 3-4 days."

The guy seemed like a bit of a douchebag, sure, although not really any worse than Roadkill.

OOC: He's counting Roadkill, Smoker, Peter, Jane, plus Schaeffer, Rowan, Airen, Michaela, Trejo. You travel about 400 miles a day on average. Water and food: .75 gallons of water per person per day, 1 meal per day. IMPORTANT: Milrats are good for THREE days food, each. The posse recovered 6 Milrats in Las Cruces that haven't been touched, that will be 18 person-days of food.

  "Okay now that is weird. I show up here and I keep running into people that I remember, but not from where. Corndog is it where have you been that I might know you from? Cause until very recently I didn't know any Convoy members and I know you form before." Airen gets up and walks over to Corndog. "My name is Airen Crichton, 1st Marines.

Roadkill gets a good feeling about this, seems like a good guy but doesn't appreciate the retard comment about smoker
"Yeah he isn't no retard, won't be a problem getting to Boise with him keeping things going"



"This guy might want a map to study later however"
Roadkill turns to the rest
"You heard the guy, we need a check on fuel food and water before we get out of here"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:59, Sat 24 Dec 2011.