Everyone made it down safely.

The ground was littered with burning debris, lit by flames from above as well.

Not to far away, the hulk of the Raptor Jane had downed smoked. Suddenly, they could hear a loud and methodical banging coming from inside what was probably the passenger bay. At least one of the automatons inside had survived and was trying to batter its way out, but the hatch was probably jammed shut.

The transformation of Shay into "Simon" was complete, and it seemed uncanny! She looked just like him, and those who hadn't seen Rowan do this before were amazed, although there wasn't a lot of time to admire her handiwork.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 1):

Jason nodded in satisfaction at Rowan's spell.

"Nice! Now let's get the Hell out of here. You guys head north and circle back, we'll head south and draw them off. Good luck!"

A small noise quietly expressed itself from Peter's throat as the automatons shredded his technical with their weapons. He took a step towards them but stopped himself. He seemed to deflate a bit then as he turned to the ropes and began the climb down after some of his compatriots.

Once on the ground, he stared up at the airship for a long silent moment.

The Huckster-now-Simon looked at Peter and clapped him lightly on the shoulder, "There will be time to revenge, and there will be time to rebuild. Don't waste either opportunity."

(S)he then turned to leave as quickly as possible.

Sky Raider 1 hung above them, a dark shadow against the dark cloudy night.

The 3 remaining Raptors were hovering, still shooting at the airship. Their miniguns sounded like buzzing chainsaws.

Consulting his map and using his backup palmcorder to display it, Fred determined they were close to a prewar Interstate, about a half-mile from I-84. It was far enough from any colony (settlement) that it was unlikely to be cleared. That was the natural direction to proceed. When they got there, they found a wrecked US Army transport hovertruck, there was a farm in the distance and a large stream passed under the Interstate in a culver large enough to hide them.

Smoker takes a look at the hovertruck to see if there is any possibility of getting it moving.

Peter stared up at the battle for a long moment still. "How did they find us? First the town we stopped at and now this. I thought this ship was supposed to be stealthy and specifically designed for use against the Combine. Do we have a traitor among us?"

He did, however, follow along as people started moving out.

I don't know Peter.  Perhaps a tracker of some sort?  Something to keep in mind.

Jane straightened her back more as if that help her not look back and followed the others.

 Rowan looks up from where she was checking Trickster over.
"Do you want the long term load of the MG Jane"?

Jane turned to Rowan and hesitated only slightly before nodding.  "Thanks Rowan.  It's appreciated."  She went over to Rowan and Trickster and gave them a smile as she took the load.  "It still seems weird but then what isn't these days right?"

Whether Jane was talking about being tracked or losing baby and the technical or both was hard to say.

Maura hands over the MG and Ammo cans.
2Weird that's one way of putting it Jane."
"Face forward and keep going I guess."
"Fate will deal the cards"

As Jane took the gifts, she nodded.  "Keep going indeed."

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 6):

The truck was a twisted, rusty wreck that had been there for years, perhaps a decade. Since Judgement Day, or before!

Even f it was fixable, it would take time to repair, time they didn't have. They were out of sight of the Sky Raider 1 but they could still hear the Raptors as they harassed the stricked airship with minigun fire. Although they had every hope the decoy would work it was clear that one Raptor at least was beginning to scour the surrounding area, and the others would probably follow.

Seeing the ruined truck wreckage gave Peter a twinge and made him wince slightly. He let out a soft sigh and shook his head before continuing to trudge forward.

Smoker shook his head at the state of the wrecks, and joined the others ready to move out.

Rowan moves close to their charge and stays at his side slightly to the front

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 16):

The Templar master was in poor shape. In order to keep him going, Rowan needed to support Simon, along with Winnie. SMoker selected the culvert under the Interstate as the best place to hide from an air unit using thermal. They climbed into the ravine with some difficulty, down to the rushing mountain stream. The sounds of battle faded as they entered the echoing metal channel.

Soon enough, they heard a whining sound as a Raptor slowly cruised overhead, following the Interstate north. Searchlinghts stabbed down, lingering on the roadside wrecks and abandoned farms.


This message was last edited by the GM at 08:47, Sat 07 Dec 2013.

Rowan will use her medical skills to treat the Simon while they hide

Smoker huddled down, having found the scramble down difficult - he's better on the flat than on rough surfaces. He peered out at the Raptor, tracking its movements.

Peter followed along and hid with the others to avoid the Raptor's search. He sat in stony silence as they waited.

Jane kept an eye out with the others and when they found a good place to hide, followed.  She positioned herself next to Peter.  She didn't say anything to him because she had said it before and they pretty much understood each other by now.  She gave him a small hip bump as she settled into her position, a small sign that she understood what he had given up but also a reminder that she was still there with him and would go through this with him.

The air H-K drone passed overhead. Backscatter from a searchlight lit up the narrow culvert passage for an instant, then it was dark. They still had a couple hours before daylight and the stay in the culvert left them cold, wet and borderline hypothermic.

Despite Rowan's best efforts, Simon slipped into unconsciousness. His pulse became weak and fluttery, and Rowan feared he would die if moved far. As it was turning light out, they were able to find a ruined farmhouse a half mile distant and hole up for the day. Smoker was able to build a smokeless fire in the still-dry basement, knowing that the thermal plume would be difficult to detect. That day, they saw one Raptor pass by, going from east to west over the mountains.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 22):

"By my estimate we are 75 miles from Junkyard. We might get picked up by a patrol before then. But we also set up rally points along the route of travel where we would be met if we needed to travel by ground. We're about 25 miles from the closest one, if we have to carry Simon we can make it there in one day's travel, 2 at most."

He sipped some tea that Smoker had brewed from herbs and leaves he gathered.

In reply to Fred Biletnikoff (msg # 23):

The other Templar (besides Trejo) offered, "we need to travel by night to avoid the Raptors and Throckmorton's Black Hats."

In reply to Winnie Franklin (msg # 24):

"Fine," growled Trejo. "We go at night. Get some rest. Set a watch."

During the 15 hours until sunset, they should set 7 2-hour (more or less) watches, 1 per person (Peter, Jane, Rowan, Smoker, Trejo, Winnie, Fred).

In reply to Trejo (msg # 25):

Jane nodded.  "We don't want to be around with the Black Hats, that's for sure.  I can take first watch.  Can't sleep right now anyway."

Peter watched blank-faced as Simon collapsed and then slipped into unconsciousness. After a long moment, he asked of Rowan. "Will he live?"

To Trejo, he gave a nod and half-shrug. Peter rarely slept much anyway.

"Do we have food or shall I go forage?" asked Smoker.

Rowan looks worried, "I do not know, I am still trying to figure out what is wrong with him."
As she carries on caring for Simon

Fred looked over at his friend, then back at Rowan.

"What we've been able to figure out is Simon's suffering some kind of neurological disorder. Plenty of chemical weapons were used in the war, biowarfare, too. That was an additional hope that in getting him to Junkyard, we could get some real medical attention for him."

Trejo dug into his pack. He pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag with some jerky in it. "I got about five days of rations there. Anyone else want to kick in what they got?"

After a pause, he looked over at Winnie. "Hey, you listening? I know you got a bunch of them Milrats you been saving. Fuckin' dig 'em out. Sharing is caring."

Keeper's Note: 5 oz. Jerky = 5 meals of food.

This message was last edited by the GM at 21:54, Sat 14 Dec 2013.

In reply to Trejo (msg # 31):

Winnie looked embarrassed (or maybe surprised?) for an instant, then hid it expertly.

"You got me. Here you go." She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out flour Milrat pouches. "There, each one is good for 3 days food, so should cover 12 days."

In reply to Winnie Franklin (msg # 32):

Jane pulled out whatever she had and added it to the group and then with her weapon in hand went to be on guard duty.


Keeper's Note: 2 Milrats = 6 days food.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:47, Sat 14 Dec 2013.

"I'll see what I can rustle up."

Smoker went back to his fire and settled down to domestic matters.

Peter shrugged. "I have a couple days'  worth of milrats."


Keeper's Note: 2 Milrats = 6 days food.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:56, Sat 14 Dec 2013.

Fred kicked in a few Milrats, plastic pouches in foil-wrapped packages.

"With what we have here, we should last at least a few days."

After Rowan contributed several meal packs, it seemed they did have enough food for a few days. They waited out the day, then moved on after dark.

Along the way, Rowan and Jane foraged as they travelled along I89, heading for the emergency rendez-vous point. Occasionally, a Raptor passed by overhead, searching, but they were always lucky enough to be by cover.

After a couple days furtive travel, Simon improved a little. More to the point, he became more comfortable. On the morning of the third night of travel, as they were settling down to wait out the day, Simon looked into the fire as he sipped some powdered cocoa from a Milrat pack.

"This reminds me of the last time I took a journey as long as this one. Things went pear-shaped then too, maybe worse. It's enough to make a man swear off travelling! Fred, you've heard this story even if you weren't there, so my apologies.

"It was about ten years ago when we left Boise that first time. It was just a few years after the war, times were even tougher than they are now. No one had food, too much radiation around.

"Someone or something people called the "Soul Taker" had been ravaging survivor colonies (communities). Four others and myself set out to hunt it. We assumed it was some kind of Syker, as it could possess people's minds and force them to do its bidding, with no memory after. The only clue someone was possessed was that their eyes glowed green.

"After weeks of travel, we found a wise woman by the name of "Granny Butterworth". She said the Soul Taker was really a demon, a servant of Satan unleashed on Earth named "Baphomet". She said that we could defeat it, but if I made the wrong decision one of us would die. And that if I lost my compassion, then my good deeds would turn to ashes.

Well, we found the demon hiding in a state park from before the war named, of all things, Hell's Canyon. It was a tough fight through some of the best-armed Walkin' Dead I've ever seen. And it wasn't over by the time we got to the north end of the canyon... Baphomet's power had grown, and instead of just one person it had taken over a dozen townsfolk from a nearby colony, men, women and children, and they attacked us. We tried not to kill them, but in the end it was self-defence and it was them or us.

"I can't forget one boy's face when he died under my sword... he almost looked thankful at being released from the demon's infesting his soul and mind. In the end we did lose one companion, as Granny Butterworth said. We were beating back the demon, but my companion was badly wounded. When I stopped to heal her she begged me to let her go, she was dead already, to strike the killing blow against the demon. I did, and Baphomet flew apart with just one hit from my sword, whereas I hadn't been able to touch him before. I guess her sacrifice gave me the power... but I cried, yeah, I did .

"At any rate, that was the end of the demon. Not a lot of people know that story... and now you do as well."

Smoker listened wide-eyed to the story.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 39):

Fred listened as well.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 09:50, Sun 29 Dec 2013.

In reply to Simon (msg # 38):

"Heck of a story there, Simon. If I didn't hear it from you, I wouldn't believe it."

"Ain't it. Say, I heard you were there? Must have been a rough fight."

She scowled. "Of course I was there. Some things you want to forget."

Rowan strokes Tricksters fir and gazes into space as she listens to the tale committing it memory.
"Can any thing truly be forgotten" she asks softly.

"The canticle of fortune speaks thus on the matter."

The circle of fortune turns, and all things pass.
Night becomes dawn, day becomes dusk.
Winter becomes spring, summer becomes fall.
Wealth and poverty come and go.
Joy and despair come and go.
Strength and weakness come and go.
Love and loneliness come and go.
Health and sickness come and go.
Peace and battle come and go.
Birth and life and death come and go.
What is built, may be destroyed, and what is destroyed, may be rebuilt.
What is learned, may be forgotten, and what is unknown, may be discovered.

Rowan sighs.
"Time turns and turns again the seasons rolling by and still we can not live in peace, still we fight to survive"

Peter listened to the story. He mostly remained impassive but at the end he gave a small shudder and turned to look away. "Thanks. Like I need more fuel for my nightmares." But he chuckled softly as the story was....mostly...with a happy ending.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:29, Sun 29 Dec 2013.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 45):

Jane kept up on Patrol and sentry duty because it helped her not think about leaving baby.  It was quite on duty which was nice.  It helped amplify sounds if anybody approached and it was also nice after all the shooting earlier.

Simon seemed to improve after telling his story, falling into a deep sleep.

The Posse struggled on for a few days, moving at night and holing up during the day. They had enough rations to last, which was good because not much else seemed to be available to eat along the I89 corridor. Smoker kept an eye out for transport of any kind, both along the interstate and in the abandoned farms and towns they passed by but there was nothing. Over the years, independent scavengers and salvage teams from Junkyard had stripped anything of value within a day's walk of the roadway.

Finally, they reached a bombed-out truck stop just outside of Junkyard territory. This was the backup RV point, where they were supposed to wait for a pickup and transport to Junkyard.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 47):

As day broke, they seemed to be in a relatively good position. Fred looked around at the burned-out garage and diner.

Consulting a map of the premises, Fred walked out to the edge of the lot. The landscape was dry brown dirt, scraggly underbrush, and then a ways back was the dark forested hills. Between the truck stop and the treeline at the foot of the bluff was a dry streambed in a deep ravine.

Climbing down into the ravine, Fred dug in the dust at the far side of the streambed, pulling up a trap door.

"Ah! Just like we arranged. Inside this cache will be a radio, food and water."

The cache might have been a bomb shelter at one time, or perhaps part of a mine shaft. A metal ladder led down into a narrow horizontal passage, five feet wide.

"Someone want to go down and have a look?"

"Shall I go?" offered Smoker. "Made holes are more to my liking than wilderness..."

"Be my guest! Anyone else want to accompany him? No time like the present."

Smoker went over to the hole and looked down, getting his flashlight out.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 51):

The ladder went down 6 feet, to a 5 foot wide corridor that led off into the darkness, towards the hills.

Smoker climbs down and moves off cautiously along the corridor. He then comes back and calls up to Fred "Is there anything I should know about this? Passcodes or anything?"

Jane motioned that she'd let Smoker have the honors.  "I'll let you go down.  I'm not overly fond of underground holes.  I can help cover you from up here.  Be careful."

Peter let out a small sigh. "I will go with you if you want." He grabbed his gear and headed after Smoker.

Peter and Smoker descend the metal ladder down into the narrow shaft.

It led to a narrow concrete corridor, 5 feet wide and 6 feet high, well-shored up. Dead lights led in a line down the middle of the arched ceiling. The passage continued for 50 feet, about to the foot of the red rock cliffs, then up another ladder through another trap door into a largish walled chamber, 30 feet across.

Near the trap door was a pump, sink, kitchenette with cupboards and a stove. Vent work led into the ceiling. There were 2 small doors, one seemed to lead into a bunkroom and the other to a combined storeroom and bathroom. There was a third, larger, door, presumably leading outside. Cool air brushed against their faces from some kind of ventilation, but it still smelled terrible.

The floor was covered in trash. Old newspapers, food wrappers, broken equipment, air and water filter cartridges, batteries, clothing. In the middle of the room was a large metal table piled high with empty alcohol bottles, a few dusty gas masks, a Geiger counter, and a new-looking backpack radio with a notebook.

As well, sitting at one of the metal chairs around the table was a corpse, mainly bones and a few scraps of flesh inside the scraps of clothing. It looked like the person had died or was placed slumped over onto the table.

"Hmmm..." said Smoker, looking around with a scavenger's eye.

"Place is a mess, but should clean up OK. Question is: what did he die from? And will it kill us any time soon?"

Peter looked around carefully, taking note if there was any salvage that was good quality. But mainly just making sure that they were alone. He glanced at Smoker and then back at the body. "Well...that corpse looks to have been dead quite a while unless something ate all the meat and such off of him. It usually takes a while to get to the skeleton look."

OOC: Can we tell how long the corpse has been dead and if there is any sign of how they died?

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 58):

The corpse looks like it's been there a while. Six months at least, perhaps years longer? Someone would have to go closer to check.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group waited under overcast skies inside the ruins of the truck stop. Trejo organised everyone so that they had a 360-degree watch. He put Jane where she could use Rowan's M260 to cover the road, both directions. Rowan was acting as loader-assistant gunner. Winnie was watching the rear while Trejo kept a watch out front.

Trickster skulked around sniffing through the scrub, hunting a rabbit.

Peter will move forward and inspect the corpse a bit closer. He will not touch it for now, just look. "I do not think this is the person we are coming to meet. Not unless that person was living here a long time before our meeting was supposed to take place. Do you see anything that would identify the person?"

"Nope. Doesn't look like anyone's been here for a good six months, probably not since he shuffled off this mortal coil."

Smoker goes to look in the storeroom.

Moving up to the table, Peter noted that along with dozens upon dozens of empty liquor bottles (vodka, whiskey, scotch, rum) piled there. Along with those were several empty pill bottles next to where the skull rested on the table. On the floor beside the skeleton was an empty syringe.

On a space cleared among the litter on the table was a military issue backpack radio, and a code book of some kind.

Shining his torch around, Smoker discovered that at the far end of the store room was a toilet and shower. The plastic piping led towards the passage to the dry stream bed. Inside the storeroom was also a hot water heater tank, a small generator with tin ductwork leading up, and an HVAC unit. Several empty metal shelves stood among a jumble of flattened cardboard boxes, empty tin cans, bottles, jars, and discarded plastic wrappers. A path was cleared from the main room to the toilet, but not the shower.

Peter raised his eyebrows. That looked for all the world like a junkie or someone who really liked to get drunk and high. He shook his head and sighed softly. He looked at the cover and flipped through the codebook to see if it had any indication who was stationed here or who they worked for. He pocketed the codebook, but would only pick up the backpack radio, however, once they were ready to go.

"I found a codebook and a radio. One of the large backpack-sized ones the military used."

"Most of what's in here is trash. Looks as if the toilet had been used but not the shower. I'm going to have a look at the genny, see if there's any fuel for it..." said Smoker, picking his way over to the generator to see what state it was in.

Unlike bottles of booze bottles and porno dataslugs piled on the table, the radio and code book were free of the layer of dust and speckle of mould that permeated the old fallout shelter. The codes were organised by date and the dates were current up to the present and beyond for a few weeks.

The generator seemed to have run out of fuel and stopped on its own as it was still set to "on". It looked intact but if the layer of dust was any indication it had been sitting for years. Some minor work would be needed to make it run.

There was a metal trap door in the concrete floor with plastic piping leading into it. If Smoker had to guess, water was pumped from a well sunk under the fallout shelter into a cistern beneath the floor. The hand pump in the kitchenette could be used if the power wasn't functioning. There was a large steel stand-up freezer, door ajar.

In Smoker's opinion this was a decent hideaway, although he hadn't seen the sleeping quarters yet. Lord only knew where the front door led but it had to be well hidden or everything would be stripped down. The rear escape tunnel led to a stream that had water at least some of the time. There seemed to be a well, but he didn't know if it was dry or not. There seemed to be little or nothing in the way of weapons and supplies, but it was cool inside with not too much mould or mildew. With a week's work it could be quite habitable.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:33, Thu 09 Jan 2014.

"Right. We can use this as shelter, although I don't think there's much to salvage... and the place needs a good clean out. Have to look for a broom. And see if there's water in the well..."

Smoker checked the well and then went in search of the sleeping quarters.

Peter thought for a moment and then frowned. "I think we should head back up and inform the rest of what we have discovered. Then we can do more of a thorough search if people want." He hefted the radio and got it settled on his back, taking his time. Then stowed the codebook and slowly started heading towards the exit to give Smoker a few more moments of searching.

Peter will brace himself and carefully push the corpse backwards with one booted foot.

The loose conglomeration of bones toppled backwards with a clatter, grinning skull parting from the vertebrae to roll across the table and knock over empty beer bottles. There were no dog tags or other ID visible in the rags the held the bones. He did note the clothing was Deseret Republic (Mormon) Army surplus, of poor quality. Probably some lonely survivalist who decided to drink himself to death. The clearing of the bottles revealed a .44 Magnum revolver, and several cartridges among the trash on the table.

In the main room was a dataslug player and entertainment system.

Looking in the well, he thought there was water at the bottom of it. Whether or not it was fit to drink was another question! The bunkroom was in a state of general shambles. There were 4-steel frame bunk beds with stained mattresses, wadded-up blankets, clothing in a thick layer on the floor. There were closets with some military surplus clothing hanging in them.

Smoker came back at the clatter.

"Stop playing with him! Looks like there isn't much in the way of actual supplies, but a fair bit that could be scavenged - wire, equipment (even if it's bust) and so on. Guess this guy ran out of supplies and gave up. Looks like his woman left him as well... some female clothing in the bunkroom."

There didn't seem to be much more to explore in the dank musty fallout shelter, except for the main entrance door, which was closed. It probably led to some kind of hidden exit away from the streambed.

Once inside Rowan will take a look around. If no one else takes the revolver she will clear the chambers and place it and the ammo in the pack

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 72):

Trejo let Rowan go, after moving to take up her position assisting Jane at the SAW covering the road. "Just be quick. And try not to surprise Peter or Smoker. Get yourself shot."

After emerging from the tunnel into the bunker, Rowan was surprised at the filth and squalor. She moved up behind Peter and checked the revolver. It hadn't been well-maintained and after lying so long in the open, there were spots of rust in the barrel.

Rowan does a quick look around to see if any thing has been missed then heads back up top.
"We waiting here" she asks the librarian

"Yes. Once we arrange the pickup, we could wait here. Might be the easiest thing."

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 74):

Crouching beside where Jane had set up the saw in the ruins of the cinder-block truck stop, he surveyed the empty road. "Looks quiet."

Smoker started to clean up the main room.

In reply to Trejo (msg # 76):

Jane nodded to Trejo when he arrived.  "It's quiet so far.  You know the quiet never lasts long so enjoy it while you can." She then settled down again and slowly nodded.

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 78):

Without solid answers on the corpse, Peter returned with a backpack radio. Smoker stayed to clean up. He started stacking trash by the main exit.

At the ruins of the truck stop, they set up the radio Peter brought and Fred transmitted the code for pickup. Trejo kept an eye on the road, Winnie watched over Simon.

Peter looked at Fred then Trejo. "Corpse down below. Don't think it was one of yours." He gave a shrug and looked at Jane, face blank.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 80):

Jane gave Peter a small smile when he returned and also gave him their sign that she wanted to talk to him alone.  She was off to one side, still watching, and would wait for him to approach her.  She didn't normally give him the coded sign so she knew he would understand that it was important.

Listening on the radio, Fred copied down some numbers. He decoded them using the book.

"Good news. The retrieval team is en route. Five hours at this rate. Around 11 am."

Peter listened to Fred and gave a nod. He supposed that it was better than more bad news at least. He glanced at Jane and stepped over to her, silently letting her take the lead in conversation and if she wanted to move farther away.

Rowan steps across to check over her charge and make sure he s still okay. "shall we get him under cover she asks the librarian"

Jane smiled at Peter and casually moved a little more away.  It would just look like she was just off to another location on her watch.  She then settled down and whispered to Peter if he followed her.

Peter had his back to the rest of the group for which he was glad once he heard what Jane had to say. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to see the expression that crosses his face at her words. He quickly schooled his features back to blankness.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 86):

Jane leaned against Peter.  It was a good cover as well as to hide their whispered conversation.

Peter stayed still as Jane leaned against him. He listened without comment as she spoke to him.


He frowned for a moment.


He then let out a small chuckle.

Trejo called Smoker on the radio. When he couldn't get a response, he trotted off to the rear escape tunnel for the bunker. As he passed Rowan he directed her to resume aiding Jane on the SAW.

Arriving in the damp chamber, he found the other many tiding up. "Come on, we got a reply. we're staying out by the road. Pickup's in a few hours."

"OK, then."

Smoker left off tidying and started to scavenge around to see if there was anything worth salvaging and taking along.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 90):

Jane chuckled with Peter and nodded.  "Looks like break time is over."  Jane did take the opportunity to give Peter a kiss before he had to leave.  Between guard duties and nightmares, she held the memories of the kisses close to help get her through until the next time.

 rowan smiles as her friend returns, "Well done sister she whispers private between them, make the most of it"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 92):

Jane grinned at Rowan's words and nodded.  "I'll take him when I can get him.  We never know for sure how much time we have do we."

She then sat down close to Rowan and whispered under her breath.

rowan chucks a blanket over them both there you go friend that will keep us dry and warm

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 94):

Jane nodded.  "Warm and dry is to be appreciated.  My thanks Rowan."

Knowing that they were away from prying eyes, Jane whispered to Rowan.

Peter returned the brief kiss to Jane and watched as she walked away. She was nice to look at, but that wasn't it. His thoughts were racing and they were on a problem, not on her. He had a slight frown on his face as he thought. He moved slowly and mechanically to pull out his pack of cigarettes, liberate one from the pack, put it into his mouth and then light it.

Rowan gives a low whistle to bring trickster in then with what has been told her instructs her friend to get a feel for how the person senses

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 90):

Smoker was able to find a fair amount of salvage, as the bolthole wasn't stripped. Aside from the dataslug player, dataslugs and Holo-TV, there was clothing, utensils, wiring, light bulbs, scrap metal, etc.

Checking the front entrance, he found there was a gun locker (empty except for a machete in self-sharpening scabbard, a scoped hunting rifle with no ammunition) and a cloakroom of sorts (empty except for a military-surplus backpack).

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 97):

The coyote overcame his shyness to sniff at Winnie without her noticing.

He reported back.

Smoker fills the backpack with the most useful stuff and takes the machete. Then he trundles out to join the others.

 Under her breath Rowan says to her friend, "trickster says it ain't her she smells metal if that makes sense"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 101):

Trejo wandered over.

"Hey, let's not bunch up. Keep a watch out. It's been a couple hours now. The relief's gonna be here soon."


Sotto voice. "We waiting for her to make a move? Or we gonna move first? Let's get it on if we are gonna do anything."

In reply to Trejo (msg # 102):

Jane managed to get out a mumbled "no it doesn't make much sense" before Trejo came over.  When he said about spreading out she just stared at him for a little bit.

"Whatcha think I've been doing all this time?  Twiddling my thumbs?  I've been on watch."

"We're going to watch and wait.  It's only supposition right now."

Trejo was impressed with Jane's cool head, but hid it by scowling. He growled in reply, "is that a fact? Any time you and your girlfriends,"" he nodded towards Peter and Rowan, "want to start something, you let me know. I'll be ready. Understand?"

He stalked off, then found Smoker. "Act cool. We may have a problem here. Whatever happens, just follow Jane's lead."

Time passed.

The grey morning saw rain. By noon the skies cleared and the sun came out, warming up the desolate valley where the ruins of the truck stop lay. A buzzard soared on the thermals above the crater-scarred interstate.

Finally, they saw movement to the south. A rig was approaching, armoured, with a trailer. Smoke poured from the twin stacks as the driver downshifted to make the grade. Actually... it looked like Roadkill's rig!

Rowan scratches her face "Cyborg"? She asks puzzled. "What ever it is we can not wait"
 "Back me up Jane."

Rowan walks over to Winnie, " lets put this bluntly and do not lie who or what are you"

Smoker nodded and continued to watch what was going on.

Peter sighed as Rowan jumped things ahead by herself. He quickly and discreetly got his shotgun ready and made sure he wouldn't be in Jane's line of fire. He made it look as if he was making sure things were safe since their ride was coming, trying to act casual.

Jane wanted to shake her head but didn't really have time for that.  Rowan was impulsive at times and she guessed that this was one of those times.

Jane got up and casually strode over to where Rowan was, making sure that her weapon was in her hand but not directly pointed at Winnie.  Anybody who knew weapons knew that she didn't have to move it much to shoot if she needed to but otherwise Jane was quiet and waited.

Waiting was part of the job requirement.  She must remember to tell that to Rowan some time.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 106):

She looked coolly at Rowan, Jane, Peter and Smoker.

"I am Winnie Franklin, and I am a Templar. Simon can back me up on this. He knows me. Isn't that right, Sir?"

In reply to Winnie Franklin (msg # 110):

Roused by the commotion, Simon slowly made his way over.

"What's the meaning of this? Yes, Winnie, I know you. I'd know if you were someone else." He smiled, but it was a tired smile.

In reply to Simon (msg # 111):

NPC'd:

Rowan looked from Simon to Winnie, then back.

"Apologies, Grand Master. There must be some mistake, and I would never dream of questioning a such a good friend."

Still looking dubiously, she politely stepped back to avoid further confrontation.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:04, Wed 05 Feb 2014.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 112):

Meanwhile, the truck drew close.

They could recognise the rig: it was Roadkill's! There were a couple heavily-armed guards riding on the trailer. One, wearing a ghillie suit, looked very familiar.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 113):

"Well I'll be. Looks like Schaeffer caught up to us at last."

Jane bowed her head to Simon.  "The long road gets to people at times.  Making sure we know who we all are is but a safety precaution."

Smoker jumped up.

"Roadkill!" he yelled with delight and started running towards the rig.

Peter, however, did not back down. He stayed at a bit of a distance with his gun at the ready. He spoke in an even tone to Simon, but his never left Winnie.

"You know Winnie, yes. But that is not her. My apologies, Simon, but you have been sick and out of sorts. Your judgment may be clouded."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 117):

He'd hired Peter and the others for his protection. He owed him the benefit of the doubt, if he felt there was something wrong he'd hear the man out, at the very least.

"You don't need to apologize for anything. Go on. What are your suspicions?"

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 117):

She cooly looked down the barrel of his gun.

"I get it. We're all tired, we've been walking for days, at night, in the cold. But if I were some kind of imposter or assassin, why would I have waited so long to make a move? You're not !along sense."

Peter smiled at Winnie. "Oh, I could think of many reasons."

To Simon he said, "Firstly, Trejo noticed that Winnie didn't know the story about the Defiler and she should. Secondly, didn't she used to live in the fallout shelter? She should have been able to give us information, or go herself. Of course, it's possible that could be attributed to long journey tiredness." His voice made it clear he didn't too much of that possibility.

He didn't take his eyes off of Winnie, but he spoke and clearly directed his voice. "So. Let's be sure, shall we? Rowan, could have Trickster give Winnie a sniff please?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:04, Thu 06 Feb 2014.

Jane stopped and had been listening to Peter.  "Perhaps Trickster just needs to sniff all of us.  I'm willing anyway.  If things aren't right in the group, might as well eliminate everybody at once right?"  She turned and smiled at Peter, knowing that he was still looking and on guard with Winnie.  "I know that there are those that I trust completely and some that I'm still learning about.  Seems like as good as time as any to do this."  She knew that she trusted Peter and a few others and it would be good to take care of this now.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:05, Thu 06 Feb 2014.

Meanwhile, seeing the truck approach, Trejo used the recognition code he was provided. Just because it looked like their friends were approaching, it could be anyone inside.

Receiving the correct response, he stepped into the road flagged it down.

As the truck slowed, a pale-skinned woman with a truly impressively-sized war-maul strapped to her back jumped down from the cab. She began to limp towards the group, though the stutter in her step looked old; like something she'd dealt with for a long time.

She raised a hand as if to indicate she meant no harm, then looked back to the truck to see if others were disembarking as well. Finally, she looked back to the group.

"Greetings, ladies and gents. Here for a rendezvous, and I suspect you know with whom. I'm Kira."

Smoker, who had come lurching (what passes for running with him) down as soon as he'd seen the familiar truck, stopped at the sight of this Kira, peering past her at the cab.

"Is Roadkill here? Is he?" he said excitedly.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 124):

Smiling, Roadkill stepped down from the cab. "Sure thing, buddy! Sorry for being a douche, I had a lot going on. I've quit drinking. Hard liquor."

The truck idled behind Kira. The mercs on top kept watch, including the guy in the Ghillie suit who looked like it could be Schaeffer.

Kira was happy to see that Simon seemed okay, but he seemed very tired and drawn since she'd last seen him when she was last at the temple in Boise. The rumours she'd heard about his being afflicted by some illness could turn out to be unfortunately true. The Librarian/counsellor/consigliere of his, Fred, seemed relieved to see him as well.

She also saw her good friend and fellow Templar, Winnie Franklin. She'd taken her in as her own Squire and finished her training after Kinney had failed. Strangely, the woman seemed to be looking through her. Winnie must just be under a lot of stress and she wasn't the most emotionally demonstrative person to begin with.

There was, however, a better explanation as to why Winnie was distracted. Some brainer that she didn't recognise dressed in Infantry Battle Armour was holding an autoshotgun on her.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:27, Sun 09 Feb 2014.

Kira slid the huge maul from her back and hefted it. "Winnie, do we have a problem here?"

Rowan moves between Simon and the developing problem quietly and with out fuss or anouncement

In reply to Kira 'Valkyrie' Herja (msg # 127):

Looking at Kira blankly for an instant, Winnie the smiled and shrugged. "Nothin's going on, sugar. I think someone's just a little cranky after walking a few days.

"Come on, let's get in the truck already. Combine patrols are all over this area, I bet, even this close to Junkyard. Let's not push our luck."

She sneered at Peter. "Give it a rest, tough guy. Let's just get on the damn truck."

OOC: While Ian's modem was out, Peter asked her to have Trickster sniff Winnie again, in fact, all of them. Does Rowan want to do this?

Peter's face remained impassive and he ignored the new woman he didn't know. To Winnie he replied, "Even closer with you communicating our position to them likely." He noted that it took a moment for Winnie to recognize the new woman. He wondered if it was like a computer accessing files or a creature accessing memories of its host. Gods, he hoped it wasn't a parasite. That would make things much more difficult.

"Rowan? The...creature is correct. We do need to get moving. Could you please have Trickster sniff the thing impersonating Winnie please?"

"Good to see you, man. And that's probably a good idea. Not drinking when driving, that is."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 130):

Pissed-off now, Winnie turned and stalked off towards the truck, daring someone to stop her.

Kira stepped into Winnie's path, "Winnie, talk to me here. It's me, Kira. Remember? Swordless?"

Winnie glanced over and nodded, then continued walking.

"I don't know what's wrong with that dude. I think he's a Ravenite. Maybe he's got a hate-on for Templars? Anyways, let's just get Simon to Junkyard and be done with it."

Rowan eyes narrow, that was not the person she knew. Contacting Trickster she asked him to check every one out for strangness

Kira gave Winnie a nod and slipped her hammer back onto her back. "All right, what's our ETA on continuing movement?" Her question seemed to be to the general assembly, hoping someone had a plan in that direction.

Jane knew that the "group" was covered for sudden movement from Peter.  He wasn't satisfied on who or what was around and he was always edgy.  She let her eyes drift towards Kira while waiting to see if trickster could sniff out anything more.

"It won't be long before we are on our way.  Just have a few things to take care of first."

Kira noticed that along with Winnie, Simon and his Librarian advisor, Fred, there was Trejo, a fellow Templar she knew but wasn't good friends with.

The Native American (likely a Ravenite Sioux) with the body armour and shotgun was with a woman in USAF fatigues and black beret carrying a machinegun. A scruffy bearded mechanic dude in long coat was walking towards the truck.

Lastly, there was a woman in a cloak with a paramedic bag slung on one shoulder and an AK on the other. With her was what looked like a thin ragged dog, which Kira realised was actually a coyote that was (very surprisingly) tame, to some degree. The coyote slunk forward to sniff at Winnie.

The coyote darted forward to sniff Winnie, at Rowan's request. He whined.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:25, Tue 18 Feb 2014.

Scowling, Winnie kicked at the coyote. "Get away, mangy mutt! Probably got rabies or something."

Turning away, she and Trejo started helping Simon up into the truck cab.

Smoker turned towards Winnie.

"Leave Trickster alone!" he shouted.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 141):

Winnie was helping Simon, and growled, "if you keep that damn coyote away from me, I won't have a problem!"

"You ought to know by now that Trickster is one of the team!"

Smoker's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Just who are you anyway?"

He limped over towards Winnie.

Peter moved to take a better field of fire as Winnie started moving. He didn't know Kira so he didn't bother to exclude her but he kept as many of the others out of the way. When Winnie kicked at Trickster, however, Peter fired a warning shot into the air - hating, hating, HATING the waste of ammo but the pretend bitch was acting like he wasn't there so he had to make sure everyone knew this was serious.

"STOP MOVING! If you move again, I will shoot you, Fake Winnie!"

Slight pause. "Everyone else move away from that thing or you will be considered hostile as well. That is NOT Winnie and I am not discussing this further. It tells us what it is or it gets blown apart, and I am starting to not care which at this point."

Jane could never tolerate the mistreatment of animals but Trickster was more than just an animal.  He was part of the team and she didn't take kindly to hurting members of her team even if they had four legs instead of two.  She brought up her gun and took a step to better position herself to be out of her teams way but keeping an eye on the others that she didn't know as well.

"Like he said.  Explain.  Trickster didn't do anything to harm you and you can see that he's not rabid or anything. Start talking."

Without moving her head Jane raised her voice.  "Rowan?  Trickster ok?  Why was he whining?  That ain't like him."

Kira took a single step closer to Winnie to make certain her fellow templar could dive behind her if the bullets started flying. She'd be more than willing to take a few hits, and she'd give as good as she took.

"Winnie, I think these guys are confused, but I mean to solve this. You remember I was born in June. What day, sixth or seventh?"

In reply to Kira 'Valkyrie' Herja (msg # 146):

Jane didn't look at Kira but it was obvious that her statement was addressed to her.

"Perhaps if you ask questions where you don't give half of the answers to it would be better."

Smoker stopped in his tracks looking from one to another.

Rowans sword clears its sheath, "touch Trickster and you die" she tells Winnie!
"Now he reports to me you smell of metal in and on you, and are not what he met before".
Rowan calls trickster behind her where he can be protected

"Winnie" rolled her eyes. "You guys are so God damned dramatic!" She shifted her weight and position, as if she was going to turn and confront Rowan, Peter, Jane and Smoker. But quick as lightning she drew back her arm and spun around towards Simon, using the momentum to snap her fist at blinding speed towards the back of his neck.

There was a "Snickt" as three Wolverine-like blades deployed from her fist...
This message was last edited by the player at 05:08, Thu 27 Feb 2014.

This message was deleted by the player at 17:05, Wed 19 Feb 2014.

In reply to Winnie Franklin (msg # 150):

Rowan's blade sings it strike as Rowan close striking for the creatures wrist in a downward vicious arc, there are no words as she moves aiming the follow through to be into the creatures gut and out through the back

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 152):

Peter fired as Winnie moved as quick as lightning. Smoker moved at the same time as Peter shot, Followed by Kira and then Rowan.

OOC: Peter and Rowan post their actions first.

Peter grimaced and fired his autoshotgun at the imposter Winnie, the shot blaring loudly and managing to hit her, though he wasn't sure how solidly.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:53, Thu 27 Feb 2014.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 154):

Peter's shot was dead on the centre of mass, hitting the "box" where the heart, lungs and spine were located. Or at least normally located! An instant after the middle of "Winnie's" back erupted from the mass of shotgun pellets, Rowan's Wakizashi whispered in from the side, she missed his wrist but ended up stabbing her in the lower abdomen. Neither wound slowed the blinding speed of her strike.

Trejo was able to intercept her bladed fist before it struck its target. He attempted to draw his favourite machete but was just not quick enough to get it up in time to block. He ended up taking Winnie's strike himself, and the blades buried themselves in his neck up to the knuckle. Tines erupted from the other side of his thick neck.

While Winne struggled to free her blades, Smoker and Kira were able to get to Simon and interpose themselves between the Templar elder and the would-be assassin.

Marshall's Note: everyone make Quickness checks again. This will be a normal turn with actions and everything!

Slightly edited for Rowan's stated action.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:18, Sat 01 Mar 2014.

rowan grins inside of the creatures arms she pulls back slightly the cut hard upwards aiming for the junction between body and arms at the shoulder
In a traditional hidari joho giri - from lower left to diagonally upper right

Jane swore at the situation.  She still couldn't shot the MG without taking out her own party.  Then Jane saw an opportunity for her to reposition herself and hoped she'd be in time.  She knew that she didn't have much of a choice but to drop her MG and draw her side arm.  With luck she could move in close enough to shoot at the one place she hoped would have an affect on Winnie...the head.  She wasn't normal that was for sure.  Jane might not know a lot about healing but she sure as hell knew that if you got stabbed in the gut and/or shot in the chest, a normal person would go down.  Plus normal people didn't have those claws.

As quick as she could Jane unslung her MG and dropped it. Her Thunderer was right at her hip like it was suppose to be so she drew it out as she moved in close.  As she maneuvered behind "Winnie", she jammed her gun into the back of "Winnie's skull/neck  and pulled the trigger.  Perhaps, even though "Winnie" was mostly an automaton or machine, there was enough left that no brain would work where no heart did.  Obviously this "Winnie" didn't have a heart since she attacked them.

Actions:

unsling and drop MG
Draw thunderer and move close
Jam thunderer into back of Winnie skull/neck
pull trigger

Peter grimaced again. This was not turning out well. He had hoped to be able to keep Winnie separated while they dealt with her, but after the initial confrontation, everyone had backed down and no one except Jane had seemed to want to back him up initially. Of course, once Winnie showed her true colors, everyone was jumping in.

He quickly fired the shotgun again, twice more in rapid succession, still keeping it on the single shot setting so he didn't risk hitting others close by...as much as he would on autofire that is.

OOC: Firing shotgun twice and sleeving one card.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:12, Wed 05 Mar 2014.

Smoker concentrates on keeping Simon safe, trying to move him out of the combat area and staying between him and those who are brawling.

Once the lead was done flying, Kira let out a roar akin to that of a bear. With a savage gleam in her eye, she brought her enormous hammer down on the being that had dared impersonate a templar.

With Smoker's help, Fred dragged Simon into the truck's cab. Roadkill pulled from inside, then closed the armoured door behind them.

Jane stepped in and, drawing her Thunderer after letting the bulky MG drop, shot Winnie in the back of the head. The bullet exited out her face, but she didn't collapse, blades still stuck in Trejo's throat. In a risky move, Peter fired twice at the imposter, one buckshot charge hitting her in the back of the leg, blowing out her knee. But still, she struggled to free her blades. It almost looked like Trejo was keeping her up.

Due to the presence of several of her companions in the target area, Rowan needed to be more cautious in her strike. The blade missed striking home, slicing part of Winnie's clothing but not delivering a killing blow.

Peter's second shot was higher: it removed the top of Winnie's skull from the cheekbones up. She finally collapsed, her blades pulling out of Trejo's throat. What had at first been a stream became a torrent of blood spraying from his neck. As she lay there facedown, Kira was able to get a good shot at the prone body, bisecting it at the lower spine.

The body began to change shape, becoming a man in a flight suit.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 161):

Jane watched the "thing" shape change and kept her gun trained on it to see if it would move again.  Without taking her eyes off of it she shouted to Rowan.

"Rowan!  Check out Trejo."

On it Rowan answers digging out the healing pads she has made.
If he is still alive Rowan will use them to heal the damage

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 163):

Trejo's vitals were crashing and he started to shudder. She guessed that one of the tines had penetrated his skull deep enough to sever his brain stem, killing him almost instantly. If they had a major medical suite and an air ambulance, he might have a chance. As it was, he was gone in seconds.

He drew a couple shuddering breaths, then was still.

"Damnit." He stopped himself from saying anything else, as the words that would have come out, while heartfelt, would have been taken the wrong way by those nearby. Instead he shook his head. "I was just beginning to like Trejo, too. He will be missed."

He sighed and went over to investigate the downed...thing.

Rowan sighs.
There were times when she felt so useless, her hands sketches the sign of peace over the body of another friend gone beyond the veil.
"Peace Trejo this road is done, travel freely friend may that which waits for us all open the final door and give you peace in the beyond"
Rowan takes his blades so they can be given to the guild master later.
Then sits back on her heels

I am sorry she says softly sadly"to those around her, he went before I could achieve  anything"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 166):

Indeed, it was Schaeffer in the Ghillie suit on top of the trailer. He looked as if he wanted to climb down, but still kept a watch using the scope of his sniper rifle. He called down, "it pains me to say this but we need to get going. No telling if... whatever that was sent some kind of signal."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 165):

Whatever this person was, it actually a male and was very strange. It appeared to be a cyborg of some kind, judging from the wiring and circuitry, although most of the body seemed to be flesh-and-blood. Strangely, its blood seemed to be dark and clotted, not fresh and not flowing.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 166):

Rowan looks at Shaefer and then turns gathers up hers and Trejo's equipment and takes his with hers to the back of the semi, places it inside and calls trickster to her and places him inside and then turns hearing her friend and goes to help move Trejo's body
This message was last edited by the player at 14:18, Thu 13 Mar 2014.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 169):

Inside the armoured truck cab, Simon croaked to Smoker and Roadkill, "don't leave Trejo. Please. Bring the body."

Jane looked down at Trejo and then over at Rowan and nodded.  "I didn't really think you'd be in time but hoped.  We won't leave him here.  What turned that body into that thing might take Trejo.  He's still part of the team.  But give us a minute to see where might have been a better place to shoot it at.  If there is one there could be more and dang those things are fast."

If anything, Kira seemed less mournful and more angry. She looked down at the flight-suited cyborg and growled, then looked to the others, "Thanks for putting that son-of-a-bitch down. No one messes around like that on my watch. No one."

She then looked to the fallen man, "Another fallen comrade. Simon, you want to say a few words over him once we're out of here?"

Peter grimaced as he looked over the cyborg thing. He wished he could study it in more detail, but there was no way in hell he was bringing it along. It likely was being tracked, even while 'deceased' or deactivated or whatever the proper term was.

"Look at this. The blood is strange. It is not as though I just shot them and they are bleeding."

He then shook his head and stood up. He turned as if to head back to his truck...and then realized that his truck was gone. He let out a long angry sigh. He then mounted up with everyone else.

He spent time cleaning the autoshotgun as they drove on to try and keep his mind off of things and calm down.

"Yes, of course," Smoker said to Simon, and made sure that Trejo's remains were loaded into the back of the rig.

He then climbed up to his usual perch. Man, it felt good to be back in place!

Jane had taken a few minutes to look at the monster because something had triggered a memory.  It was faint and therefore too a bit to get to gel but finally some of the puzzles had fallen into piece a bit more.

As she rode in the truck with the guys, Jane looked up at them and finally shared her thoughts.  "You know, this kind of reminds me of something I heard rumors about.  It was a prewar program.  I didn't pay too much attention to it at the time because it was just starting up.  There was some kind of prewar program that was using cybernetics to make infiltration and combat cyborgs. I can't remember what abilities they were suppose to possess but I can remember that they were rare and VERY epensive.  That shape-shifting thing is new though.  I'm sure if they had done that before I'd remember.  That was just weird.  Any of you hear of that program?"

Using a body bag supplied by Roadkill, Smoker and Kira cooperated in getting Trejo's body loaded into the back trailer. The unnamed mercenary and Schaeffer rode on the trailer, along with Dakota Jack. Dakota Jack was a pistol fighter that had been part of the Posse until they reached Amarillo, then he split off. Now he seemed to be riding shotgun on Roadkill's rig, again. Smoker was up there, as well.

Fred, Simon and Kira rode in the sleeper in the back of the cab. Roadkill had Jane and Peter ride up front, with Jane standing out the passenger roof hatch to man the MG there.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 176):

Roadkill shook his head. "Never heard of anything like that, Jane. Of course, I was a kid before the war. Peter's right, that fucker looked like he was already dead.

"Rowan... it's getting crowded in the cab. You want to ride up with your man? I think the Colonel would be glad to see you. What do you say?"

Rowan looks up her face expressionless, as she cuddles trickster to her "That's his call Roadkill".

"If you want I will ride in the trailer"

Roadkill suppressed a sigh. Women, you can't live with them, can't kill them except in Montana and Florida. Still, both Rowan and Schaeffer were friends.

"You want to ride with me, that's fine. Not a lot of room back there in the sleeper or here in the cab. But I know the Colonel would like to see you. So yeah, why don't you head up there?"

Rowan looks at her friend, "pull over when it is safe Road kill."
"We are going to need some new vehicles when this is over"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 180):

The truck had barely been moving, so it was simple for Roadkill to stop and let her out. "Go on, girl." He smiled at her, although it looked like it might break his face.

 Rowan climbs down and walks to where Shafers Motor bike and side car are, "can I have a ride" she asks simply

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 182):

Rowan went to the rear of the trailer and climbed inside. Walking past Trejo's bodybag, she reached the inside to the roof.

Schaeffer, his hood thrown back to expose his face, grinned down at her through the hatch. "Of course, please allow me to assist you, my lady."

He reached down the ladder. "Take my hand."

Kira sat in the back, fidgeting. It was hard for her to calm down after the fight. She looked towards her fellow travelers, "Either of you ever run into something like that before?"

Peter tried very hard to not growl or glare at Rowan. He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh instead. His vehicle was one of the vehicles that needed replacing, but nothing could really replace the truck lost. The technical had been his home for so many years. Sometimes, rarely, he wished he wasn't so good at not getting killed.

Roadkill started the rig moving again, "double clutching" to put it (slowly) in gear.

"Nothin' like that, naw. We did run into a passel of "walking dead" after we fought Modeen."

In reply to Kira 'Valkyrie' Herja (msg # 184):

Fred, the Librarian, thought for a moment, consulting his datapad.

"You think he was already dead? He could be what's called a "harrowed". Harrowed were not just Walking Dead, they had supernatural abilities. Jane said there was some kind of "infitrator" cyborg, a Top Secret military program, both in the US and CS military. Rumour had it that the cyborgs were all Harrowed or other undead, who were cybernetically enhanced. Living bodies would reject the cyberwear, otherwise. Yes, some Harrowed possessed the ability to change their appearance, courtesy of the Manitous (demons) that possessed them. It seems fantastic that the military would try to control evil spirits and turn them into weapons, but that's the essential nature of the Ghost Rock bombs, after all."

In reply to Fred Biletnikoff (msg # 187):

Jane leaned against Peter when she could and shuddered at Fred's description.  "I haven't seen anything like that before or at least not that I remember.  Harrowed sounds as close to a description to that thing that we've come up with so far."

He thought a little as they proceeded.

"An undead creature, serving Throckmorton, perhaps with some kind of stealth ability... it's possible that he (or she, we never checked!) was behind the "Boise Horror" slayings? Some of the details match, but no, seems too pat. For one thing, how did it get from Boise to the Sky Raider 1 airship?"

Dakota smiled at the newcomers. They were old friends.

"So Smoker, Rowan, you miss me?

Dakota was a genial gunfighter. He'd been in jail with Smoker in Truth-of-Consequences Nevada, then worked as a caravan guard on Roadkill's rig, when he met Rowan and the others in the posse. Some time later he split off to help Brother Edgar, a Doomsayer, free some town in Oklahoma from occupation by Black Hats.

"Rowan, did I ever mention what happened with that weed you sold those Black Hats? Turns out it was tainted. Turned those jerkoffs into zombies! Not Walkin' Dead, but the toxix shambling cannibal kind. All the Black Hats started killin' each other, and that's when we moved in with the townsfolk.

"And Rowan, my darling, Roadkill says you and the Colonel are an item now? Congrats!"

Rowan grins, "Long time no see Dakota, I am glad to see you alive and healthy."
"How s Brother Edgar?"
When Dakota mentions the weed she chuckles, <Blue>"you will have to tell Jane that one Dakota."

"Good to see ya again, Dakota, at least under better circumstances," said Smoker.

"What have you been up to lately?"

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 192):

Dakota smiled up at the sun, then over at Smoker.

"Ah, this and that. Spent some time out west in the Maze. Some crazy things there, let me tell you! How about yourself? I hear you guys took out Modeen, the Anti-Templar dude? I shore woulda' loved to be there."

"Brother Edgar, man. I heard he went east. Into the heart of the Combine. Denver."

Peter shook his head. Harrowed? That was a very unpleasant thought. A cybernetically-enhanced Harrowed? That was downright disturbing!!

"Who knows how long ago Winnie was....replaced, Librarian. Sh...It could have been with us for some time without us knowing. Or it might have replaced her on the airship. I'm also concerned that there might be others among us, or more coming. We will have to be vigilant to make certain no one else gets replaced. It sounds tiring."

Smoker shuddered.

"I would rather have not been there when Modeen was killed. An out-and-out brawl with no finesse is not to my liking. Still, the world is better off without him and his antics."

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 195):

Dakota nodded. He pulled up his bandanna to shield his face from the wind as the truck gathered speed. "Well, I'm all for a good stand-up fight, but dealing with the likes of him is a little much, I reckon."

He still wore the matched pair of Colt Dragoons they'd taken off the Doomsayers they took down just outside Shalam Colony near the ruins of Las Cruces, New Mexico. He was also armed with a lever-action Winchester that looked familiar.

"Hate to ask, but what happened to that purty Japanese girl, Michaela? Still got her rifle, here. Been meaning to give it back when I seen her next."

That would never happen. As Smoker, Rowan and Schaeffer knew, she'd been killed in a Black Hat ambush just north of the ruins of Cheyenne in Wyoming, after Jack split from the Posse.

Finished helping Rowan up, Schaeffer spoke up about the final fight. He knelt down and offered his hand to Trickster.

"Oh... we avoided charging in the front. We went in the back, which shows some finesse, and I was able to take care of many of the bikers with my rifle as they tried to react. But ya, at the end there we had a hard fight on our hands. Modeen and his anti-Templar Posse did not go easy, nor did his gang, the Destroyers. But they surely went to hell."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:17, Sat 22 Mar 2014.

In reply to COL Kurt L. Schaeffer (msg # 197):

In his shy way, Trickster gingerly sniffed his hand, then acquiesced to being skritched by his mistress's mate.

Smoker shook his head.

"Sorry to bear bad tidings. Michaela was killed in a Black Hat ambush just north of the ruins of Cheyenne, nothing any of us could do. Bear the rifle proudly in her memory."

 Rowan relaxes slightly seeing her friend is willing to let her man touch him and settles beside Schaeffer, "love do not ride away from me like that again".
"If we are a partnership then we support one another"

Listening to the conversation, Kira speaks quietly, "Modeen? You killed Modeen?"

In reply to Kira 'Valkyrie' Herja (msg # 201):

Inside the cab, Simon coughed, then began to speak.

"It happened the day before we left Boise. Modeen's the one that was decoying our Templars and ambushing them outside of the city. He tried to draw me out of Boise so he could kill me with half his gang. But I was too weak to move. Roadkill, Peter, Jane and their Posse were able to defeat Modeen where he laid his trap. Trejo's Squire, Jason, struck the killing blow. He's been knighted now, so you know.

"At the same time, the other half of Modeen's posse of Anti-Templars, the rest of his gang, the Destroyers, and their allied bike gangs had been split off to raze Boise as they assumed I wouldn't be there and few if any Templars remained in the city. It would have worked, too, as I was... too unwell to lead. But a Junker Companion helped organise the supplicants, Squires and other Companions who remained but they were outnumbered five to one. It was a hard fight and they were about to overrun the Temple, but Goose and a Convoy strike force hit the attackers from behind.

"And here we are. What Modeen didn't know was that there was a secret meeting coming up in Junkyard. That's why so few Templars were available and there wasn't time to bring you and the others in. And here we are, having survived a Combine infiltration attempt."

Simon passed along another bit of trivia. Chance, a Templar that had gone missing in the ruins of Wichita months before, had been found. He'd been captured and ritually sacrificed by a Servitor (demon), the Anti-Bishop, in his Cathedral of Bone in the Wichita Maelstrom. The Anti-Bishop had actually been the Catholic Bishop of the Diocese of Wichita before despair and lust for power had corrupted him beyond redemption. Arthur, another Templar travelling with this Posse, had been killed by the Anti-Bishop in the subsequent fight.

"Arthur's and Chance's swords were recovered when the Anti-Bishop was killed. This Posse also recovered a Pagan tome, a powerful spell book. The Anti-Bishop was going to use this tome, along with Chance's relic sword, to open a portal into the Hunting Grounds. When Jason was knighted, he was awarded Chance's sword. Whew! I think you're up to date. Except for the current assignment, of course. But all we have to do is get to Junkyard."

"I promise to always be faithful and support you, if not physically. I can't promise we will never be apart." He didn't look happy but he was trying to be honest.

Peter let Simon tell Kira what she wanted to know. He just looked out the window, watching for threats.

Everyone else had been willing to let the matter with Winnie drop, but not he hadn't. He wondered why that was. He wondered why he had pushed so hard. Granted, he had been right to do so, but was it stubbornness? Belligerence? Was he just angry over losing his truck and then being mostly ignored and/or placated by most everyone when he forced the imposter issue? He wasn't sure and so he was thinking things out a bit while Simon talked.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 204):

Jane had been quiet and listening to what was being said.  She was glad that she was by Peter and knew that he was brooding but then that wasn't anything unusual.  She knew to just let him figure things out in his head and be there to support him when she could.

There was one question that she hoped somebody could answer.  "Those hallowed that you were talking about.  How do you tell if somebody is one?  I mean unless you trip them up in a conversation like this time when they should have known something, is there a physical way to figure it out?  And how come they knew so much but didn't know some things.  Intel lacking on the other end or if they do the Hallowed do they inherit some memories?  If we're going to run into more of them we need to know this stuff."

Simon smiled, although he was noticeably tired and worn-out.

"Harrowed. Pretty much the opposite of "hallowed".

"I think the ability to change shape is thankfully very rare. My understanding is that all Harrowed keep their own personal memories. That Infiltrator cyborg (and let's not keep calling it the name of my dear departed friend, Winnie) probably didn't take any of Winnie's memories, it was relying on skill and bluff to maintain the illusion. You didn't know Winnie enough to tell she'd changed, I wasn't well enough to pay attention. Fortunately, Peter called that bluff.

"Otherwise, it's very tough to tell that the Harrowed are dead but they seem to have a smell of corruption on them. Otherwise... skin temperature? Other physiological evidence. A Harrowed rises up days after being buried, except now a Manitou is in control. They can heal after a fashion, but they can never heal the wound that killed them completely.

"If the Infitrator cyborg was part of a pre-war Black Ops program, it would have had a lot of skill and practice in assuming an identity and covering up its "death wound". Let's be careful but that unit might have been the last of its kind. Harrowed are rare, Harrowed cyborgs that work for Throckmorton are probably as common as a Junktown virgin.

"Peter... thank you. You were right to suspect Winnie. You have my thanks."

After several hours of uneventful travel, the rig pulled up at a Junkyard militia checkpoint. Three Humvees (one armed with an M2HB, another with a TOL missile and the third with a SAM launcher) picked them up for escort duty the rest of the way on I84.

Interstate-84 had improved greatly since the end of the war. Junkyard work crews had performed regular maintenance and they increased speed to almost prewar levels.

Finally, as evening neared, they approached Junkyard. The Wasatch Mountains were on the left, the Great Salt Lake on the right. Further beyond Junktown were the ruins of Salt Lake City, blasted by city-busters courtesy of one (or perhaps both) of the Final War's belligerents. The leaders of Deseret had vainly hoped that neutrality would ensure their survival but it had not. However, the super-science iron geodesic-lattice dome of Dr. Hellstromme had protected the polluted and shunned industrial area of Junktown.

Since the war, the dome had been mostly taken down (leaving a 20-foot wall) to let in light and air, and provide building materials for the surrounding shanty-town and an outer wall/defensive perimeter.

Peter was listening only barely to Simon and Jane's conversation. His mind, however, was filing away the information for future reference. He fervently hoped to never run into another again, but he couldn't take the chance. Especially when the Combine was after the person he was escorting.

He blinked a few times and turned to look at Simon when he heard his name. "What?" Then his mind caught up to the conversation. "Oh. No problem. I am being paid to keep you safe. I will be a pushy and stubborn asshole of a man if needs be to make that happen." He gave a small shrug. "The others figured out she was a fake, I just pushed the issue. Next time, hopefully you will not be right next to the danger. Well, hopefully there will not be a next time."

He perked up a bit when the Humvees showed up. He looked the looks, especially mounting weapons, but they were gas guzzling machines. He prefered things a bit more fuel-efficient himself.

"So who and where are we meeting here again?"

Rowan sighs this has been a costly run in more ways than one, and their group needed to acquire new vehicles.
And a new paying job.

Kira seems quiet after the discussion about the harrowed, and a little downcast at the loss of a knight that had been a friend, but her spirits rise as the road gets better. She even smiles a few times as she sees road crews.

"That's what we fight for," She says to no one in particular, or perhaps everyone, "So that those that can make, make. We're down, but we're not out yet. Not by a long shot."

Giving a satisfied little sigh, she rests her chin on her forearms and looks out at the crews working as they pass by.

"I was foolish to not believe you. But that is the past, I won't make the same mistake again.

"There is going to be a summit here. Representatives of every group that opposes the Combine, and some neutrals that we believe have common interests, have been summoned by Ike Tuner, Mayor of Junkyard.

"I shall hear what he has to say. His past alliances with the road gangs were very troubling. I'm glad to see that he abandoned that foolish course when it became obvious they were not worthy of trust and were taking advantage of the truce to cripple trade and communications. Now, Junkyard has absorbed them into their militia, but I wonder how much more reliable they are, really? Still, they aren't raiding merchant caravans and plundering towns anymore, so that's progress of a sort.

"Once the summit is over, your job will be done. Three days, five at most. Of course, you're free to leave at any time and you'll still be rewarded for your work."

Rowan bows slightly, "Sir we need to get you healed before the talks start, I have done all I can for you."
"Some one with greater knowledge and skill is needed. And I will be most happy to learn from them"

Simon snorted, amused. "It's no coincidence that Junkyard is one of the few places in the Wastes you can still schedule an MRI. The surgeons here have developed a lot of skill in implanting cyberwear and making some kinds of cyborgs but they still know a lot about neuropathology and brain surgery.

"One thing I still need is a security team. I'd be honoured if you and your friends would help. Kira's the only Templar in Junkyard, she's good but she can't protect me alone. Trejo's dead, Jason's missing. I don't feel comfortable trusting Mayor Turner's security, you're the ones I trust to watch my back.

"What do you say?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:23, Fri 28 Mar 2014.

Rowan bows, "I am honoured Guild Master Simon".
"And yes for all that the Templars stand for in the wastes, I protect you, if I can".
"But and there is a but, you should consider building at home more than just the hall."
"And you need some one ready to take over from you"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 214):

"The order does have Jo, my second-in-command. Jo is capable of leading the Order if I fall. But we're so few in numbers she's been needed elsewhere. At any rate, I get the feeling many of the Templars prefer to think I'm immortal so they don't have to deal with the reality of what to do when I'm gone.

So much talking prompted a coughing fit. He drank some water and, thankfully, there seemed to be no blood. Simon continued,

"Regarding Boise, I guess we haven't had a lot of time and resources to devote to construction projects. There's the Great Hall, the Barracks (where you stayed) and the Hostel. Not to mention the Chapel. Until now, we've not needed more and our focus has been outwards, in the wastes, not inward, at home. If we needed to, we could simply move.

"But I see that might be something of a folly and Sgt. Crichton has been a great help in fortifying Boise and making it into a true base. We will need to not just feed, train and house Templars but an a lot more Companions, such as yourselves. To face the Combine, we won't just need individual heroes but many people, working together."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:52, Sat 29 Mar 2014.

They approached the north gate to Junktown's outer wall. Having a VIP escort, they bypassed the line of makeshift vehicles and foot traffic waiting at the security checkpoint.

One thing worth note was that the militia at the checkpoint were using some kind of hand-scanners to check everyone entering.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 216):

Jane noticed the checkpoint scans and arched an eyebrow.  "Is that normal for them to scan people?"

Peter grunted and shrugged. "I lost my truck protecting you, I might as well see it through at this point. Besides, who knows what I might be able to find in Junkyard. I usually prefer to get good quality material but you never know."

Simon looked contrite. "I know this was never discussed. And normally, possessions are the furthest thing from my mind. But insofar as I am able, I will make up your losses, Peter. Junkyard is a city of paupers by prewar standards, but they are quite rich by the standards of the day, I think."

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 217):

It came to Jane that these detectors were picking up EM (electromagnetic) signals, like those given off by computers and digital hardware. Most people lacked the computers and smartphones that were ubiquitous before the war. But cyborgs, especially Combine infiltrators, would be giving off enough of these signals to be picked up. In other words, all people passing in (and out) through the main checkpoint were being scanned to see if they were infiltrator cyborgs.

They made it to the gate, and the Junkyard Defence patrol in body armour and carrying NA M22 assault rifles approached the cab. One of them had a handheld detector attached to a backpack computer and power source. The readout was in a HUD monocle attached to his helmet. The team leader stepped up to Roadkill's window. "Pardon me, sir. We need to check everyone to see if you're all who you say you are."

Smoker sat tight up top remaining on overwatch.

Jane perked up and nudged whomever was close enough to her to nudge.  "See those scanners.  Think we could get some or make our own?  That would help prevent what we just went through I think."

Kira hopped down to allow herself to be 'checked', and overheard Jane's thought.

"Fine idea. I understand almost everything is barter-able here. I bet you could get either some units, or someone willing to make them for you, if you had something they'd want in trade."

Rowan is interested in how they work wondering if you could create a spell that would detect life

Roadkill let a militia into the somewhat-cramped cab.

"Be my guest." He muttered "asshole" under his breath and opened the driver's door to let the patrol leader in. Roadkill climbed down to allow access.

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 225):

The militia member climbed in and proceeded to check everyone with the EM detector. Up close, Rowan could see it had the home-made and jury-rigged look of a Junker device, a kind of weird-science-shaman technology descended from the Mad Science of the prewar years. This meant the device was a 1-off unique creation, if there were many of them they would all be different even if they worked in basically the same way, even no two made by the same "Junker" would be identical.

He stopped by Jane and frowned at the display. "You're chipped. Combine?" The other militia outside stiffened, hands going to weapons but not bringing them up. Yet.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 224):

As other militia checked out the trailer and the guards riding there (Smoker, Schaeffer, Rowan, etc.) Schaeffer explained the limits of home-made Junker tech. "Each device would be expensive to buy. Cost about as much as this rig, I would wager."

Smoker asked for a closer look at the scanner.

"Fascinating..."

Rowan turns her hand drops toher AK
She may well be but she ran from them years ago and has been a good friend for many years since then." "Yish we both have had to kill enough of the combine to get here with Simon." "So put you toys some where else and let her and me do our jobs"

Peter got a dangerous look in his eyes as he glared at the man not-quite-going for their weapons. "EX-Combine, thank you very much."

Cautiously, Kira said, "I didn't know they had ... 'exes'..."

The militia ignored what she said. Instead, Rowan was painted by four green Lasers from sniper rifles. The minigun at the checkpoint swung around to cover her, spinning up with an evil whine. There was a clattering of bolts as an order was given and at least twenty militia chambered their weapons and brought them to bear.

People waiting to enter the gates started to scatter. What had seemed to be a routine question seemed to be going sideways for no particular reason.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 230):

The man's reaction wasn't new to Jane.  She got it at almost every checkpoint.  It was annoying but understandable.  She didn't back down but didn't go for her weapons comfortable knowing that Peter would take care of things, as well as others, if it came to that.

"As he said, I'm EX and have been that for a long time now.  As for if I'm chipped.  You should know that already.  All Black Hats are chipped.  Mine is still there and yes, if anybody tries to use my weapons besides me it will detonate.  I'm not in danger of my head automatically blowing up though as long as you keep me with my weapons.  If you know the rest of our group you'll know that they wouldn't have me in the group if I wasn't on your side.  That explain enough for you?"

Jane turned to Kira and nodded.  "A few of us managed to get out.  It's not pleasant."  That's all Jane intended to say on the subject so she was quiet and waited for the next part of the questions to come.  They always had more questions.  Perhaps that is one reason why Jane loved Peter.  His quietness, among other things, was comforting.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 229):

Reaching down, Schaeffer grabbed the barrel of Rowan's AK and firmly kept it pointed down. He stepped in front of her, best he could.

"Easy, fellahs. You're just doing your jobs, she didn't mean any disrespect. Been on the road, not thinking straight. Please give her a break, ya?"

"Don't worry, champ. Routine question. If you ever dealt with a Combine infiltrator cyborg, you'd understand."



The militia officer nodded, satisfied.

"OK. We get ex-Combine in here, every once in a while. Checking for chips and extensive cyberwear is a good way to winkle out infiltrators, human or cyborg. We're under high alert, for reasons you can understand, I would guess. You're good to go."

Rowan Hands her weapon to Kurt then steps around him.
Stepping along side her friend. She is tiered fed up, her words cold dripping with frost
"disrespect no not that irritation yes that is a better word"

Schaeffer didn't reply, he just smiled at her.

He hit the rifle's magazine release catch and pulled back the charging handle to inspect the chamber making sure it was empty.

Jane nodded at the military officer.  Orders were orders and it was best to be on the safe side.  It was his unfortunate duty to ask them all the questions just after they had gone through a mini-hell.

"It's cool.  You have your job.  Those scanners though.  Who do we talk to about getting to see them closer and see if we could make one or something?  It sure would be easier to know before hand what we're dealing with."

"It's fine. I can vouch for her. Would I let a cyborg infiltrator get close to me?" Simon asked. He winked at Peter.

"Thank you, Ma'am. There was no offence, you can understand why we're concerned about the Combine.

"I don't know if you can get one of these babies. Ike had them made special from a Junker. I would guess that you could ask him? Otherwise, a Junker can make one for you."

He saluted and left the cab, signalling that everything was OK and the militia could stand down, which they did.

Rowan moves along side Jane amused that the Colonel still has her weapon or at least one of them.
She chuckles "people tended to for get that she is always armed"
She ponders some thing Simon said about pretech medical aid being available here.
"Jane could this place remove the tracker"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:04, Sat 05 Apr 2014.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 241):

Smiling, Schaeffer slung Rowan's AK. "I will wait for you on top of the cab. Yes, you are always armed, my love. You can afford to be more subtle, ya?"

He climbed up on the trailer.

GM Note: The cab is simply not big enough to allow Rowan inside without her having to sit on someone's lap. So Rowan is actually outside, next to the passenger window, where Jane is sitting.

In reply to Militia Officer (msg # 240):

Roadkill snorted in contempt at the militia officer. "Great, now let's get moving."

He climbed back into the cab. "Rowan, you better get back on the trailer unless you want to walk the rest of the way."

 Rowan heads for the trailor

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 244):

Jane nodded to the officer and then thought about what Rowan said.  "I'm not sure Rowan.  Should I tempt fate after all this time?  If the chip stays in it's a toss up of whether or not it will go off.  It hasn't yet so it is good and I don't worry about others using my weapons."

Peter kept his mouth shut, lips pressed firmly together. It was obvious that he was doing his best to hold his mouth shut so he wouldn't antagonize the guards. When Simon made his joke, Peter rolled his eyes and gave a small snort. Though he did seem interested in the scanners.

At this point, the Posse was all loaded up. Business returned to normal, a potential close-range firefight that was suddenly averted was all in a day's fun in the Wasted West!

All Posse members are issued transit papers for entering and leaving Junkyard's gate, good for a week. Tariffs in tradeable barter needed to enter (posted as $150 for cyborgs, $50 for everyone else) were waived.

Very surprisingly, a pair of Sky Pirate untralights passed overhead. To Jane's eye they seemed to be flying CAP (Combat Air Patrol) over the approaches to the city. A routine patrol, looking for trouble before it got to Junkyard. These were more "standard" light aircraft, not the sleek combat planes carried aboard the Sky Raider 1.

Junkyard's inner and outer walls sat nestled against the Wasatch Mountains. Smoke from countless cook fires drifted into the sky. The entire area outside the now-disassembled inner dome protecting Junkyard from the bombs was completely and strangely devoid of life, for miles in every direction. Even the vegetation was dead (and the trees had been cut down years ago for firewood). It had been over a decade after the war and still nothing would grow in the oddly sterile soil surrounding Junkyard.

The paved roadway between the outer perimeter wall and inner wall was a dense shanty-town. This zone was called "Outer Junkyard". There were billboards advertising an ultra-violent-looking sport called "Skullchucker", and by the looks of it the players were heavily cyborged (radical body mods being a well-known Junkyard speciality). Fights and other bloodsports were scheduled in not one but two locations: "The Pit", in Outer Junktown, and Hellstromme Arena, in "Inner Junkyard".

The shantytown lining the direct route to the inner gate showed considerable signs of recent damage. When Ike had made his move to bring the road gangs under his heel, some had resisted when the militia had moved in to disarm them and arrest their leaders. Such resistance had been swiftly and harshly dealt with.

Halfway to the inner gate, their escort turned right, onto another paved road that ran between the two walls.

Marshall's Note: It's likely Peter and Roadkill have visited Junkyard over the years, at least once. Possibly Rowan, although it's likely this shit-heap would offend her sensibilities. Smoker might have, if it weren't for the cost of entry.

Those who've been to Junkyard in the past would not have seem Sky Pirate air patrols, that's a new thing.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:17, Tue 08 Apr 2014.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 247):

Roadkill followed the lead Humvee.

"Damn, never seen Sky Pirates watching over Junkyard before. Wonder if that's permanent now or just because of the summit?

"Back when I was in the gang, we used to come here, get bombed and watch SKullchucker. Hell, yeah! I'm gonna do that again if I get the chance! Ya'all can come along."

When the guide vehicle turned right, he commented, "hello, what've we got here? We takin' some kinda detour instead of going straight on in?"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 244):

Up on top of the trailer, with Rowan, Schaeffer and the merc (Jack Black) Dakota Jack commented, "I've been here a few times. Food's really, really expensive on account of they can't grow anything in or around the city. Something to do with the energy screens Hellstromme built into the Steel Sky that absorbed the energy of the bombs they dropped here, is what I heard. Best bar is the Ledge, been around a long time. It's in the inner city."

"Well, I've never been here before. Too expensive," said Smoker, looking around with interest.

Despite her earlier statements about the rebuilding of society, there was something about Junkyard that just set Kira's teeth on edge. She watched the mass of humanity, and the look of distrust was pretty obvious on her face.

When Roadkill mentioned about the detour, Kira's hand slowly went to the haft of her hammer.

In reply to Kira 'Valkyrie' Herja (msg # 251):

In the back Rowan leans against Shaffer and cuddles trickster.
She recognises the need to be here, but it does not make her any more comfortable.
"Love if we survive the coming storm I might be going back with the Templars. Some one has to help them build a town."
"And I can provided medical skills, and help in several ways"

"I noticed the air support as well. You are correct. It was not here last time you and I came through."

Peter was a suspicious man by nature. The detour and the fact that Roadkill noticed it too, set him on edge a bit. He tried to look casual as he got ready. He plastered a smile on his face as he spoke to Simon and Jane. "I have a bad feeling about this, and I hope I am wrong."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 253):

Roadkill turned off the main road, being careful not to flip the rig in what was a fairly sharp turn. If nothing else, there was far less traffic on the side road than on the main through-fare from the outer gate to the main inner gate.

He motioned towards the CB radio. "Want me to get on the horn, see why there's a detour?"

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 254):

The detour might be a good thing or a bad thing.  All Jane needed to hear was that Peter and Roadkill were suspicious.  She pulled out her weapon and started to look around for an ambush.

Peter thought about it for a long moment. He finally shook his head. "No, if it is an ambush, it will tip them off. If it is not an ambush, it makes us look ultra-paranoid." He let out a sigh. "I hope that no one would be stupid enough to make a move on Simon literally right out of the gate. However, we are much closer to our meeting now, so if they are going to try for him again....it will be soon."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 256):

From behind, Simon chimed in. "It seems to me like the best time to attack would have been earlier. If some kind of last-ditch attack were to happen now we'd have the full armed might of Junktown to back us up.

"Remember, Ike called this meeting. He has the most to gain, and Junktown is the main opponent of the Combine, along with the Sky Pirates."

Schaeffer nodded.

"Ya. I think that is worthwhile. I think I could help the Templars as well in helping form a real army, or at least an organised volunteer force to back them up. We'll talk to Simon, see what he thinks."

The twin SKy Pirate ultralights on CAP banked east, heading out over the Wasatch mountains. Junkyard was in the foothills, and several mineheads for Ghost Rock mines were actually close enough to be located within the outer perimeter. These mines had once attracted the legendary Darius Hellstromme (before the Mormon Elders of Deseret banned him) and this was why he'd located the factories and refineries of Junkyard there. Now he (and the Mormons) were gone, but the Ghost Rock mines and Junkyard remained.

They passed by a large conglomeration of warehouses and sheds which Peter and Roadkill recognised as being the Junkyard Market. Traffic became heavier and Militia police cars blocked traffic. Past the Market, they turned left onto an access road leading to another gate in the inner wall. Once they were waved through by militia armed with locally-produced D20 assault rifles, the small convoy was in the narrow streets of Inner Junkyard.

Inner Junkyard had once been the industrial district of Salt Lake City, protected by the bombs from the dome known as the Steel Sky. After the war, the Steel Sky had been dismantled, leaving a 20 foot inner wall. Unlike every other town or in the Wasted West, the crowded buildings were not in ruins or rebuilt but still completely intact. Walls did not have bullet holes and patches, glass remained in windows. Due to the now-absent Steel Sky, buildings in the centre were only around 20 stories tall, declining to 4-6 stories at the periphery. Many structures were factories for heavy and light industry, along with refineries. Smoke belched out tall stacks. There were office buildings and industrial supply centres as well as a hospital, hotels and even a stadium. About 15-20,000 people lived in Inner and Outer Junkyard.

Finally, they and their escort reached the middle of the downtown core of the dense-packed (and semi-circular) city. Dead centre was a massive 22-story glass-and-concrete brutalist edifice. The former HQ of Hellstromme Industries (before it moved to Denver) and now the Town Hall. They turned onto a side street that led to a long 2-lane ramp that sloped under the building. It was built to accommodate semi-trucks and seemed to lead to an underground loading area and parking garage. With space up and to the sides at a premium, it made sense they would also dig down.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 259):

Roadkill had been expecting some kind of ambush or trouble, and appeared relieved it wasn't coming, at least not yet. "Whoa... actually working traffic lights? What do they mean?" He'd been here before with his road crew, so he was joking a little. Carefully, Roadkill negotiated the ramp entrance, checking the height markers.

"Yep... guess we can make it. Down we go!"

Rowan cuddles up with Trickster, how can people live like this no green only machines

Smoker remains in his usual perch on overwatch. He's a bit spooked by an underground garage, and feels the need to duck despite there being adequate clearance.

Peter started to sit up a bit straighter. His face started to take on a more interesting look rather than the sharp-eyed lookout for an ambush. His eyes got wider as he viewed all the pre-apocalypse buildings and material intact. As a Ravenite, the best in gear was always the best to have, and this stuff was the best he'd seen in a long time. Not that he could really carry a building with him...and he wasn't sure he was ready to settle down but if he had to choose he could do worse than Junkyard.

The rig rolled down the ramp, down into the vast underground parking level under the City Hall. It suddenly became a little cooler and dimmer as sunlight was replaced by cool white-painted concrete walls and ceiling, lit by flourescent lighting.

They passed between a couple of armoured technicals mounting 20mm autocannons and manned by militia in full helmets and body armour, guarding the entrance. Once inside, uniformed Junkyard police used flashlights with orange cones to direct the rig towards the middle of the immense parking level. There were vehicles (cars, trucks, SUVs) parked here and there, but mainly this level seemed to be used for storage. The underground garage was nearly a square city block, all told, but lines of sight were broken up by loading docks, stairwell and elevators entrances, support columns.

Arriving at the central core under the building, they saw it was a mammoth loading dock. Three more semis were parked there, all armoured up and garishly painted in typical Waster style. More armed technicals awaited, some with Junkyard crews but many being Convoy personnel. Peter's and Jane's heart leapt... Peter's truck was there! It was being manned by a crew wearing Sky Pirate tiger-stripe cammies under vests, with blue berets on their heads.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 264):

Jane couldn't believe her eyes.  The truck had been home to her for a long time but it was here?  how?</blue>"

Jane finally spoke low.  "It can't be.  It was lost.  Our truck Peter?"

Smoker called down "Hey, Pete, isn't that your technical?"

Peter was looking around and his eyes passed by the trucks there. He rarely looked long at trucks much anymore since he had lost his own. But something caught his eyes and he looked back. Then what the others were saying sank in as well.

"It...certainly...looks like it. But how could that be? It was on the airship..."

Then he started to get a sinking feeling. "It would not have survived a fall from the ship. However, if the ship did not explode and crashed I suppose it is possible that it survived. Unless these people were part of the group attacking us, which...does not seem...likely."

Rowan, "Then I suggest you find out."
She turns to Simon, "where to next Sir?"
She looks at Simon a little concerned, alarmed at how much the journey has clearly taken out of him.

It is plain that Rowan just shifted to some one responsible for another's life.
"Trickster tell me if any beings similar to the one we last killed approach please"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 268):

Bravely, the shy coyote hesitantly stole his way over to the crowd, after everyone dismounted. He sniffed around, and then want over to Peter's truck and peed on the tire. Returning, he said, "no, not think anyone metal inside them."

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 268):

"Where to? Everyone out, I guess."

Struggling a little, Simon made his way out of the cab and to the ground. Once outside, he seemed to gather his strength, seeming to look merely tired and not weak and ill.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 267):

One of the Sky Pirates came over as everyone dismounted the rig. It was Captain Phelps, commander of the Sky Raider 1 airship. He shook hands with everyone, and gestured to Peter's truck.

"You like? We kept it in good shape for you. Even gave it a tune up and changed the oil. Great to see you all again! Once the Combine believed Simon had abandoned the ship, they withdrew most of their automatons to search on the ground. We were able to hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive, and that turned the trick. Lots of good people lost their lives, but we made it safely. I sent the airship away a couple days ago, too vulnerable moored in one spot and maybe we could use it to decoy the Combine further, but we got a chance to drop off your truck!"
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:57, Wed 16 Apr 2014.

Smoker climbed down from his perch and stretched.

He watched Captain Phelps come over to Peter, pleased that it transpired that there would be no argument over possession of the technical.

Peter looked surprised, visibly surprised which was a rare thing. He shook the Captain's hand again vigorously. "Thank you! Thank you very much!" He then immediately hurried over to the truck and began giving it a thorough once-over. Discreetly, he hugged it as well.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 273):

Jane was more sedate as she walked over to the truck, looking for baby.  Did they save baby as well?  Either way she was glad that the truck was back.  Perhaps it was a good sign.

The technical was in good shape, and had undergone extensive repair work. The perforated armour panels on the side that had taken the brunt of the Automaton fire had been replaced. The motor had an extensive overhaul with every bullet-riddled . Even Baby seemed to be in good shape, fully loaded with a spare ammo box in a bracket at the base of the post mount. Jane's Hellfire SAW was in the bed as well.

Pehlps smiled and walked back to be with his men. It looked like Ike, the Mayor of Junkyard, was about to begin speaking.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 275):

Jane smiled when she saw baby and wasn't ashamed to give her a hug.  She did grin at Peter and nodded her head at baby and the saw.  "We're back."  That was it but her smile said a lot more.

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 276):

"At least some of you got a nice reunion."

Simon smiled, looking a little less tired as he did so. It looked like the Junkyard bigwig was about to speak, so he made a point of getting the posse's attention.

"I don't have a lot of time right now, so I'll make this quick. I'd like for you all to remain as my bodyguard. I know you said you would earlier, but you have a chance to back out now. If that's acceptable, then I'd like for Kira to join your posse as well. I know she's a stranger, but she's one of the better Templars we have. Well, the only Templar here aside from me, I suppose!

"Kira, I have made all these folks Companions of the Order. They are trusted allies and friends." "Companions" were still not Templars. Unlike the Squires, Companions could not or did not want to become actual Templars. In fact, many were little better than mercenaries, but everyone needed to make a living and this was not held against them, as long as they were not greedy. More importantly, Companions were considered trusted and respected by the Order and in turn would cooperate and work with them, even risk their lives.

He turned to Rowan and brought Winnie's Katana from beneath his robes. "Rowan, I'd like to entrust you, as a Companion, with Winnie's sword. It is still Templar property, so to speak, but I'd like you to safeguard it for now. Until we can arrange to send it back to Boise. I've seen you practicing with your Wakizashi and I think you can make good use of it until we present it to a Squire unpon Knighthood."

"Rowan bows "the honour is mine to serve Simon, by my ladies will and my oath."
I will carry the blade for you willingly, until we can present it to some one you deem worthy to carry it in my place"
"And yes I will stand as close protection for you until I can do so no longer"

Kira nodded to Simon's request, and then to Rowan, "You carry a great and honorable burden."

She then looked to the others, "Companions it is, then. I welcome the lot of you. May you bring honor and glory to both yourselves and the order."

To Simon, she muttered, "I assume the 'going incognito' thing isn't necessary while we're here?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:47, Fri 18 Apr 2014.

Peter gave a small snort. "Better stop giving me chances to walk away, Simon, especially now that I can drive away." He let out a small chuckle.

He winced slightly and then rolled his eyes when Kira wasn't looking. Templars. He would be glad when this job was over and done with.

"You may as well wear your Tabard. Anyone paying attention at the meeting will guess the woman with the great big maul is probably a Templar. The rest of you, you may wear your Companion badges so that the people here know you are with me."

Although the Posse should still have the badges they were given when they were made Companions in Boise about a week ago, Fred passed around some to those who still needed one. They were large white shield patches with a red Templar's cross in the middle, designed to be sewn on a sleeve or breast.


This message was last edited by the player at 06:43, Tue 22 Apr 2014.