Peter let out a breath. Then he looked at the others. "Well. I guess we head back to town then." He took one last look at the boat and shook his head. "The water-liking undead are not a good thing. I fear something is causing them, or at least sending them out." His lips twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace. "And I have a feeling we are about to be asked to look in to it by the town."

He shook his head and got ready to go, waiting for the trip back.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 584):

The Posse RV'd with the flatboat they had arrived in, and four of the six former prisoners agreed to accompany them back to town. The sad wreck of the Mississippi Queen and the dead remnants of the River Gators who'd crewed it and their leader Big Al remained behind. Some time soon, salvagers from Nouveau Baton Rouge would come to see if the boat could be re-floated. Even if not there was plenty of black powder, firearms and cannon that could be salvaged.

They cast off and chugged away into the dark. Fireflies danced an amongst the Spanish moss draped on the trees. Having a bit of experience on a hoverbike, Crichton followed along at a relatively low speed.

Arriving back at town safely after midnight they passed on the rescued prisoners. Next was a meeting with town Engineer Tinsdale, Sheriff Reynard and acting Mayor Sadie in Shady Sadie's bar and grill. Although they did not get a chance to use it Tinsdale did not ask for the bomb and radio detonator back. Yet.

After drinks and food were served Reynard said, "ya'all done a fine job. We think the threat of the gang is over, with Big Al dead, his gang dead or scattered and his boat fouled. But we got one more service to ask.

"Even with the Gators gone, there's still something wrong. We had two more people vanish last night. We think it was related to the disappearances night before last, and those things you found attacking the Gators' boat. They seem to be comin' from the ruins of the city. Now, the two salvagers that went missing were looking for medical equipment and supplies. We can give you a map of the city with the areas they were going to check.

"One of the missing salvagers that came back was undead. Henry. You seen him. He was wearing a medical gown. And those things had toe tags. We think whatever it is, it's associated with a hospital."

 "Do you hate being right Peter?" Crichton says with a sigh. "Yeah the toe tags are enchanted. Might be a hospital or a morgue to be fair." he ponders some more.

Peter was glad to hand off the former prisoners. He was content with the town being semi-safe, at least for the moment, from the threat of pirates and brigands. But he knew it didn't end there. He glanced over at Critchton and gave a shrug of his shoulders. "I am not psychic, but I have been around for a while now."

He looked back at the three town officials and rubbed his forehead slightly. "It sounds like that, without asking, you are asking us to look in to this for you?" It was a rhetorical question. He let out a small sigh and shook his head. "I am unsurprised."

He bit back the urge to ask why the town thought they were some kind of heroes. He supposed that they had done some things that could be called 'heroic' by some. Most of the time it wasn't his intention to be 'heroic' specifically though. It just happened to line up that way sometimes.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 16:55, Sun 23 July 2023.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 587):

The old law-woman smiled and nodded her head. "Oh yeah, we was going to ask ya'all for your help all right. Much obliged. Engineer Tinsdale's got some information ya'all should know."

In reply to Sheriff Reynard (msg # 588):

The town engineer spread out a large local topographical map of the city, pre-flood. It was crammed with notes and labels for places of interest.

He went over the many scavenging operations that the town had sent out recently. Various locations were targeted for different materials. The two scavengers that seemed to be "patient zeros" had been sent out to find building material. But they could also bring in anything else that they found, or mark it for later recovery. Their target was a lumber yard three miles to the north, past the side of the Mississippi Queen. Not a hospital, clinic or medical facility.

 "Could be they were jumped there and dragged off to the clinic for fixing. Or that is where the fixing is done. When was the last time you sent a team there?"

Peter looked over at Crichton and gave another shrug as he said, "Or they did not make it to the lumber mill and were...taken before they managed to get there. I suppose we should take the route they would have taken, as close as possible, to see what we can see."

He rubbed his nose but studied the map. "Do you know what route they would have taken, or anything they would have tried to avoid on the way there?"

"Let me see,"

Smoker peered over shoulders, putting his scavenger's mind to work.

"These are the likely spots for good pickings," he pointed. "As for routes between, dealer's choice. Depends on how easy the terrain is. Can't tell that from an old map, you need local up-to-date knowledge or a look at the ground."

Trask had left his armour charging and doing routine diagnostics as he join the others around the map. He took it all in, but had nothing more to add above what had already been said.


-
This message was last edited by the player at 00:53, Tue 01 Aug 2023.

The map was cluttered with a confusing series of notes from Tinsdale regarding various salvage or potential salvage locations. Nevertheless, Crichton was able to pick out three medical facilities within the missing scavengers' target area:  Leonard K. Earl Medical Center (two miles), the Lakepark Hospital (two miles), and the Baton Rouge Municipal Hospital (one mile). The latter was more-or-less on the way back from the lumber yard the scavengers were going to check out (3 miles away).

Peter looked over the map and then studied the places on the map that Crichton pointed out. "Hmmm." He let out a small sigh as the index finger on his left hand began to tap slowly and irregularly on the table.

"I suppose we should try to map out a route to hit all of them, starting with one of the closer ones, perhaps the Municipal Hospital? Or if you see a better route, Crichton, to make our way between them with the least amount of travel total, that would be fine as well."

With a plan in mind, the Posse made ready to head out.

Darkness had fallen. Fireflies danced among the trees rising out of the swamp.

They could either go now, or wait for morning.

Them not being familiar with the territory they were going to enter, Peter voiced his personal suggestion, "I think we should head out in the morning. It was...an eventful day and we are not familiar with where we are going. Starting at night seems...ill-advised in my opinion."

He glanced at the townfolk, "But I would highly advise more people on watch then normal while...those things are out there so no one else goes missing."

 "Threes as they seem to run in pairs. That way at least one can get a shot off or possibly sound an alarm. And yes unknown area at night with surprise "predators" is not my favorite thought."

In the morning, before dawn, Tinsdale showed them the salvage boat they'd be using.

Tinsdale also showed them some of the necessary gear. Going along with them was Joe Ratliff, one of the town's experienced salvagers who knew how to handle the boat and the associated gear.

It was a raft on dual pontoons, like a catamaran. It had a slow electric motor, good for 12 hours operation at 5 miles/hour. Additional equipment included a compressor connected to 4 hoses, each with 100 feet coiled on its own spindle. Masks were on the ends of the hoses to provide breathing underwater as long as the compressor functions, up to 100 feet of depth, give or take.

As well, there were eight "bang-sticks", a pole with a shotgun shell affixed to the end, plus four flashlights and a coil of 50 feet of rope. In lockers near the bow were two sets of tools (picks, axes, shovels, pry bars, etc.) Further, two electric mini-chainsaws.

Although Trask's powered armour did have filtration, it did not have an independent air supply. Underwater operations during the war for the CS military were usually conducted by marine and navy commando units with special gear. Powered armour like the Wolverine suit could use a small oxygen bottle (called a "pony bottle") and after a bit of tinkering with the valve the air hose to the raft could be attached.

"It's an hour until dawn. You should have plenty of time to reach the hospital. Good luck!"

Smoker looked over the boat and its equipment. He was a bit dubious about the diving equipment. A bit scanty for the depths indicated by the length of the hoses.

Trask got his suit into the middle of the vessel and made sure he was not going to roll off should things go south. He was also not to convinced at the equipment installed for the diving, but helped with getting his own suit prepped should it be needed.


-

Peter was tired as well as sore. He was no young buck anymore and after a very long and arduous day, having to get up before dawn was irritating. He tried to get himself more awake as best he could and did a bit of light stretching to work some of his muscles out.

He looked over the boat and its equipment with a critical eye. He restrained a sigh that bubbled up in his chest. This was all salvage, cobbled-together junk. He normally wouldn't be caught dead using such crap. But...strange, desperate times. He shook his head and boarded the boat without a word.

Chricton had slept like well garbage. The events of the previous day hadn't sat well with him. The floating gangers had been scattered or killed. And scattered didn't sit well. Not much to do about it now.

Smoker was sprawled fast asleep. And snoring.

They packed their gear and pushed off. Tinsdale and Sheriff Reynard saw them off, then left.

Carl Ratliff, the salvager, grabbed the tiller and slowly they quietly puttered towards the gate leading to the open river. Once the guards let them through, they had only just cleared the gate when they saw Luke, Tinsdale's assistant, with his boat tied up on the rubble wall surrounding the town. Seeing him, Carl asked himself, "now, what does he want? After you guys rescued him across the river, Tinsdale keeps him on a short leash so he don't get himself killed."

After Luke waved them over, Carl pulled up. "What you want, kid? After your little vacation almost got ya killed, you know Tinsdale ain't gonna let you come along, nowhow."

They had met Luke day before yesterday on the far side of the river. the young man had been on an unauthorised salvage mission and almost became food for mutated nutria water rats! Luke was Tinsdale's apprentice and his action had earned him a kind of house arrest from his mentor and father figure. Yet, here he was.

"Hey man," he replied, "I know I messed up. But this is important. I heard y'all are going to the Municipal hospital? I been there last month. Know how to get there, get in. I can be a help. I promise I'll do whatever you ask. This whole thing is bigger than Tinsdale, bigger than me. The whole town could be at risk, maybe even this part of the river, who knows?"

He had a bag of his gear, plus his NA Commando SMG and a couple spare magazines.

Carl looked dubious, but shrugged.

NA Commando SMG:


This message was last edited by the player at 22:50, Wed 23 Aug 2023.

Peter looked to where their 'pilot' was indicating and he frowned slightly. He listened to one and then the other. He scratched his chin and glanced at his allies. "While I do not have any issue with Luke or his coming along..."

He looked back to Luke. "You wish to come along? You...want to put yourself in harm's way?" One eyebrow rose up. "May I ask why?

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 607):

"Tinsdale is great. He just wants me to be safe. And it is safe here. But I just... I can't stand by and not do anything while this town is in real trouble. These are my friends, my family. This is important, and I want to help!"

In a flash of insight, Peter intuited that the kid impulsively wanted in on the adventure. In fact this was probably why they found him so far from home, across the river. His heart was in the right place, but maybe didn't fully understand the risks and danger.

Marshal's Note: Peter rolled 11 on 1d6 Scrutinize (he rolled an Ace) in trying to decypher his motives.