In reply to Walker (msg # 196):

The Mexican nodded and grunted in reply. Whether in reference to Walker's acceptance of his offer, the invitation to food, or all of the above wasn't clear.

Task completed, he stalked off to his bike to wait for them to get a damn move on. As he waited he lit a smoke, watching Roadkill's antics with a smile of concealed amusement.

In reply to Walker (msg # 199):

When he emerged, he got a good look at his new travelling companions.

The armoured 4-door crew cab HiLux "technical" mounted a Ma-Deuce in the bed and armoured plating all around. The gunner was a blonde woman in camouflage fatigues, black beret and Kevlar vest, and she was talking to a native man, the driver, who was dressed in an infantry battlesuit. Both were well-armed, he with an auto-shotgun and several pistols, she with an exotic-looking SMG.

Standing near them was a redheaded woman in loose travelling clothes and cloak, AK-47 slung on one shoulder. She also carried a medic's shoulder-bag. At her feet was something very unusual, a coyote! It seemed tame, as tame as those wild creatures ever got. A scruffly-looking bearded dude in a duster over several tool pouches and wearing a headscarf was packing an antique FN-FAL.

That left the "twins": the Mexican and the Texican, both riding bikes, both pretty weathered. In fact, this was a fairly mature crew, most looked old enough to have been adults before the war. The youngest were the jackass, Roadkill, and the bearded dude, they had the hard look of those who were children when the bombs fell and came of age in the Wasted West.

Walker strolls up to the assembled group casually, tipping a nod to each as he meets their eyes on the way.

"Greetings!

Anders Walker at your service... Just call me Walker, most folks do. Apparently you guys need a Hand with a Caravan? I'm your man.

Heavy Block and Chain is all loaded. Ready to go.

Where should I stick my Gear?"

As he approaches it becomes apparent that Walker is a clear four or five inches taller than Peter (who is the tallest in the current group at 6'0"), and considerably heavier set. Walker wears Travel Leathers, layers of robust garments to easily regulate temperature. On his feet he wears good quality steel-toe Combat Boots. His Vest has a sheath for what looks like a small broadsword on his back, but it only looks small compared to Walker. On one hip is his trusty Glock, on the other a large Hunting Knife. His main weapon seems to be an SA Assault Rifle with a 2x Scope. His ammo and gear is squared away tidily in a set of decent webbing.

Those with a particularly sharp eye can tell he is wearing some kind of armor under his leathers, the tell-tale signs of plates and gel-pads are clear.

Over this ensemble he wears a long dark-tan leather Duster, topped off with an old and warn Cowboy Hat that matches his Coat.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:40, Fri 02 Aug 2013.

In reply to Walker (msg # 202):

Being a Junker, Davey's wrecker/tow truck looked jury-built and home-made. It was, unusually, a half-track design with a heavy tow bar/crane on the back. There were native totems and symbols painted along the sides. Walker had loaded the heavy block and tackle onto it, and Blackfeather's men were busy loading other gear and tools.


Blackfeather shook Walker's hand. "It's been good. We'll take it from here, you go with these folks. If the Convoy brings you back, all well and good. May the spirits go with you."

Peter glanced at Rowan to see if she wanted anything as he responded to Jane. "No, it is alright. I will get us some food to go since we are leaving soon."

He turned and gave a nod of greeting to the man who came over, a quick glance to appraise the man. "Hello. I am Peter. This is Jane and Rowan," indicating each in turn with his hand. "If you will excuse me, I am going to get food before we leave. Jane, would you help Walker get settled please?"

He then walked unhurriedly over to get food, a few burritos to go.

The 'scruffly-looking bearded dude' smiled at the newcomer.

"Hi. I'm Smoker. Mechanic and scavenger, keep Roadkill's rig running... or did until he wrecked it."

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 205):

Jane nods to the newcomer as she looks him over and gives a slight nod of approval for his weaponry and armor.  "Hey Walker.  Like Peter said, I'm Jane.  You want to store your stuff in the back here with us?  These days as we travel it's a find space and occupy it type thing.  Rowan and I have staked out the back here but there is usually room for another.  Looking at how you're dressed I doubt you'll get in my way when I need to use Baby."

Jane patted the Ma-Duece fondly when she said baby and then looked down at Rowan.  "Whatcha say Rowan and Smoker.  You guys think there's room for another?  And how about you Trickster?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:11, Thu 01 Aug 2013.

"Up to Trickster... I feel lost without something to perch on..."

Smoker turned away, busying himself with his pipe. At least that stopped the shakes.

Rowan Smiles "it is always pleasant to have some one new to talk to"
She looks at Trickster, and shifts in to a low series of whines and yaps, if walker believes his eyes and ears she is talking to the creature. Trickster sneaks forward sniffs once and darts behind Rowans legs again.
Rowan chuckles, " you can take that as approval or trickster would have lit for the horizon.
"

Walker Grins as he says goodbye to Davey and the Posse introduce themselves. Each seemed to have their place, but sure enough a little opening appeared in the back of the Truck just big enough for him to fit into. He slung his ruck into the space and turned back to the group. He'd been with enough caravans to know not to talk business in public if at all possible.

"Nice Wolf..."

Hunkering down Walker waited patiently to get its attention, then cocked his head inquisitively.

Standing back up he grinned and turned back to the Posse.

"Thank you folks..."

He doesn't seem to have much else to say as he scratches his head and grins.

In reply to Walker (msg # 209):

Like most coyotes he'd seen in Alaska, Trickster was skittish and shy. (And looked a little like a cross between a large fox and a small wolf.) For him to come up to anyone was very unusual, although the posse didn't miss the look he exchanged with Rowan, first.

As for Walker, he merely noted that even though this coyote was smart it seemed unusually so.


This message was last edited by the GM at 02:57, Fri 02 Aug 2013.

In reply to Walker (msg # 209):

There was another passenger as well. The Librarian in the brown robes, palm-cam in a shoulder case. He started to climb into the cab, then stopped. He studied Walker for a moment, then resumed awkwardly getting in.

Rowan smiles "coyote not wolf, a wolf with out its pack would be a very unhappy wolf"

Rowan looks at Trickster "if you complain about not having our ride again you and I will have words you let it get away"

Jane gives everybody a smile and nod.  "I am glad that you are all with us."

She then squats down a little bit and looks into the mirror at Peter, winking at him.  "I think we have a full load now Peter.  Take off whenever you are ready."

Trejo sits on his old worn bike, watching the road as the new fellow links up with them.  "Trejo," he says, voice a bit gravelly as he raises a hand in greeting.  The tone is polite even is his scarred face doesn't appear to be.  The eyes keep moving though even as his other hand remains near one of his ridiculously numerous and/or large blades scattered about his person.

He gives a curt nod of agreement at Jane's statements, though which one wasn't clear.  As soon as Peter starts the engine, Trejo does the same and brings the bike to life with a rumbling roar.  Checking his gun and an odd blade or two, he clicks the bike into gear.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:24, Sun 04 Aug 2013.

Peter hands out the burritos to the two women and then settles in to his cab, carefully setting the burrito within reach but where it wouldn't accidentally slide off the seat. He started the engine up and took a bit of the meal, savoring the taste. He then let out a small sigh when Jane spoke up. He gave her a nod and quick-then-gone smile. He put the truck into gear and headed out.

The little convoy pulled out, minus the rig. Trejo and Jason led on their bikes, followed by the technical. The armed gate guard let them through with a wave.

As they drove through the gates, the last they saw of Roadkill was him passed out in front of the garage. Blackfeather was walking over to the pump with a plastic bucket to get some water, he stopped and waved goodbye.

Outside New Ontario and the ruins of old Ontario, the Interstate climbed up the escarpment along the edge of the Snake River valley. The sky had clouded over, and it looked like rain. This would make their travel miserable indeed, but as they had no choice but to drive on, they stopped and put a rain tarp over the back of the HiLux, and a rain cover over the Ma-Deuce. Trejo and Jason pulled on raingear, worn dusters and leather leggings.

Behind them, thunder echoed off the granite faces of the Rockies.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 215):

She smiled at Peter as she took the burrito.  "Thanks.  It smells good.  Maybe next time we can have a sit down meal."  Jane wished they had time to sit and eat together but their life seldom afforded them that luxury.  Instead they would eat yet another meal on the road but at least they were able to travel together.

She took a bite of her burrito as she started to scan the area as they drove off.

Smoker huddled in a corner feeling lost and bereft.

rowan sits beside him." Feel like talking" she asks softly

The start suggests he didn't notice you until you spoke.

"Um... just... well. Been travelling with Roadkill a whiles, you know. Got used to it. Him yellin' at me, but... well, needing me too. And now. Wrecks the rig, drinking... and just... just says Go. Not wanting help fixing it or nuthing."

Smoker sniffles a bit, then blows his nose on the tail of his shemagh.

Rowan considers both their situations
"I somehow think we have not seen the end of Road kill Smoker."
"Though I can not say the same of my man."
"A wise man once said."
"When you come to the end of a road turn around and realise the end is not yet. We all have places to go and places to be."
"And I will be honest and say I am glad you are with us"

"Thank you," says Smoker quietly, almost a whisper.

"Ain't got nobody, no family or nuthin'"

Rowan laughs and gives him a hug, "silly of course you have, you have us crazy lot."
"Any way I am the same, apart from who you see here, who have I got, no family or kin left alive, as far as I know I am the last witch".
"So you ain't alone in that regard."

As the first drops of rain spattered on the road, they mounted up again. Trickster pricked his ears up at the sound of thunder, then barked, agitated. Thunder echoed off the rugged hills and mountains around them.

"Hey? What is that? Hey!"