When asked about the origins of his weapon, he simply smiled and said, "I guess you could say it's something of a hand-me-down."  Even the stoic man couldn't help but find amusement at Dakota Jack's levity, and allowed himself a small chuckle at the thought of Nix doing as Jack indicated.

As the apocalyptic wagon train pulled into the dusty, long-forgotten little interstate turn-off of a town, Brother Edgar took a good look around and began to plan.  This wouldn't be the main settlement, but might be necessary for a watchpost and trading post.  His training was mostly through survival, but he thought these rundown buildings showed some promise.

He leaped out of the truck as it pulled to a stop, being sure to thank townie for the fine, relaxing, scenic drive.  Making some small joke about it having been a while since he'd had a vacation.

It didn't take much to assess the situation with the rig and the rough road.  Thus, Brother Edgar went simply back to helping his people.  Unloading the rig this time.  Helping organize who and what will go on which truck and when.  One of the Chosen brings him word that a few folks are gathering to scout ahead and so he makes his way to the scouting party.

"I am given to understand that you are going to walk ahead to see how the land lays?" offers the Doomsayer as he strides up, "You have already done so much and greatly appreciate that you would undertake this as well.  Would I or any of the Chosen be of use in this?"  Obviously leaving it open for the more tactically minded to turn the offer down gracefully, should they want to stay with a small scouting group.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:09, Tue 29 June 2010.

Nix grinned in reply.  "You better bring it with you then cause if there's scouting going on of this town then I'm up for that!  There ain't no way I'm staying here while there's somewhere I ain't been before to go investigatin'."

He didn't say it out loud but from the interest that appeared in his eyes the thought of potential scavenging opportunities had just occurred to Nix, irrespective of the intention of the mutants to settle in the town.

At the sight of people comparing swords Nix put his hand to the hilt of the machete at his belt.  He wasn't as skilled with it as certainly Arthur seemed to be but it would do for some close in hacking it he ran out of bullets for his pistol!

Roadkill wasn't very happy with the way things were going. What had started with an offered ride was now turning into something that sounded like it was going to be an extended stay. He would much rather be on the road and headed to his next destination but since it was sounding like Smoker and some of the others were wanting to check out the town he figured he might as well make the best of it.

"Hey Nix, when you're in town let me know if you come across a snow plow or anything else big and heavy that would work as a suitable ram plate for the rig. I'll be here getting her turned around and ready to go in the meantime."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:56, Wed 30 June 2010.

"Looks like I'm haulin' it myself then.

"Ya might as well come, Glowy.  Even if this is a bust, ya got thutty of 'em that's gonna be askin' you where to poop.  Might as well pick the spot before they get there so's you can prevent as much confusion as ya can."

The Doomsayer can't help but laugh at that.  Of course, few seem to be able to resist laughing when Dakota Jack is about.  With a nod, he returns, "A good spot to poop is one of the finer things in this life."

That said, he goes back to the gathered Chosen and lets them know that he's going to scout ahead.  He recommends that they take a look, carefully, through these buildings and help the rig driver however he might need.  He has been very helpful to us after all.

Having helped his people with direction, the Doomsayer returns to the scouting party as it gets ready to move.

0900-0920
West of Chance City, NM

The Chance City area had been completely abandoned for something like 160 years, since the 1930s. The odds of there being anything other than some adobe and stone walls was slight, a snowplow, non-existent.

Just over 2 miles back, up by the interstate, was the town of Gage. Being just off the road, it had been thoroughly cleaned out, although some of the half-dozen buildings still stood.

One of the townies, a sunburned hayseed with a beard, ambled over to Roadkill. "I reckon once these folks are settled in, you can hit the trail and be in Las Cruces long before nightfall. If some of these folks want to take apart Gage for building supplies, we can help them out, now the truck's running smoother."

Col Schaeffer, Brother Edgar, Smoker Nix and Dakota Jack set out along the track. Well, not along the track. In true reconnaissance fashion, Schaeffer led off the path, but parallel to it. For men on foot, there wasn't much of a difference. Without vegetation, anyone on the high ground could see them coming for miles around.

In the mean time, the semi was unloaded, and Roadkill took it down to Pipeline Road to turn it around. Soon, he was on the way back, wisps of Ghost Juice smoke streaming from his stacks as he geared down to take the hill. There was little pollution, although the engine always sounded strange when it burned Ghost Juice, like something or someone keening, lost and frightened. It wasn't bad during the day, but running at night it was creepy and almost drowned out the Peterbilt's engine.

To the west, the little group went up and down over the foothills for about 15-20 minutes. Chance City had been nestled in the folds of the foothills lining the southern edge of the Victorio Mountains. Soon, they came to some high ground overlooking the townsite. There wasn't anything visible aside from some broken walls and brush. Nothing moved, there was no sign of life or activity, no vehicles. It wasn't a park or a historical site, so there wasn't even any plaques or outbuildings.




They checked out the site for about 30 minutes. Schaeffer performed a radio check, and easily raised Roadkill's rig from on the high ground. Peter's truck and Battlesuit Helmet could also hear him but there was more static picking him up because their antennae were shorter.

All they found were tumble-down walls. They also found the wellhead, and using his suit light Schaeffer confirmed there was still brackish metallic water down there. Without agriculture draining the water table, it had risen after the war to levels it hadn't been in over a century.

They had to decide to call in everyone else, or if they were going to look longer.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:54, Wed 30 June 2010.

Shaeffer was anything but impressed by the ruins. A few tumbled down walls and a lot of dust were nothing to brag about, especially to someone whose home city had over a thousand years of recorded history. Most likely had had, he reminded himself. The way the Last War went, he was pretty sure someone had dropped a city-buster on it.

The Colonel slung his sniper rifle and readied his M4.

"I'm going to check out the 'buildings'. Who knows what has taken to living in there, ja? Also, I suggest checking the closer area further. If this was once a mining town, then there should be tunnels, pits. We should make sure there's nothng hiding in there before we clear the civilians to come."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:34, Wed 30 June 2010.

With the rig turned around and ready to go, Roadkill cuts the engine to save fuel and hops out. He takes a glance up at the sun. It's a hot one today he thinks to himself. That sun is going to turn my stationary cab into an oven in no time. No sense sitting in there and sweating my balls off.

He then looks to find the hayseed that spoke to him a few minutes ago. "You wanted to try and tear down Gage for some building materials?" Roadkill says, squinting against the sun. "Well let's go then. I think the others might be a while and maybe I can find a spare gas can or something at that abandoned station." With a shrug he adds, "It beats just sitting around here and waitin'"

Brother Edgar, on the other hand, seemed very pleased with the tumbledown ruins of Chance City.  His mind's eye could see potential here, safety here.  The Chosen could be hidden away from most marauders to live and learn in peace.  The Brother is an idealist.

At the Colonel's suggestion, the Doomsayer offers his agreement, "Yes.  We should take a quick look around the area."  Placing a hand on a crumbled half-wall, he adds with a smile, "This does feel like a good place to make a new start.  Even the name gives hope.  /Chance/ City."

He removes the Geiger counter from his belt, unclips the sensor, and begins to wander through the area.  He didn't really think there would be too much radiation so far out here away from the major bombsites, but it didn't hurt to check.  His tour will take him through the "town proper" then around the perimeter.  The perimeter defined as much by faith as any real markings.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:31, Wed 30 June 2010.

In reply to Ian Roadkill Colby (msg #91):

The yokel, who peered out from beneath his cap, scratched his beard as he thought about it for a second. Finally, his brain clicked into gear.

"Well now. Suits me fine. We kin take our truck and yours."

"Hey, any of you folks want to come along to the town and do some salvaging?"

A few of the Chosen stirred. They were trying to take it easy but it was impossible in the desert sun without any shade. Their belongings lay in a pile around them.

"I'm half relieved and half dis'pointed we didn't find us a pre-war meth still out here."  Dakota Jack remarked as he looked at the ancient (to his way of thinking) structures.

"I personally don' think we should go messin' 'round in any old mines though, although it's probably not a bad idea ta go find out if there's any in the immediate area jus' so nobody trips and falls in.  I mean these old walls look like they done been here a while an' they ain't held up, so I don' think it's actually a good ideer to go stickin' ourselves in an old mine shaft built by the same folks.  I reckon they's jus' gonna have to work at findin' em all, they must be all over the desert, an' they's jus' gonna have to scrap fer some dynamite or somethin' to close 'em up."  He shrugged.  "Not that I don't want to help but I ain't no jee-all-oh-jist, an' I'm not gonna stick aroun' here for several years to root 'em all out."

"Sure man," replied Nix even though he wasn't particularly sure what a snowplough was.  Roadkill had described what he wanted however so Nix had the general idea.  "I see if I can find something to use as a ram."

---

As they got a good look at the ruins Nix was disappointed.  "Man, them is real old!" he commented aloud, the disappointment apparent in his tone.  Salvage opportunities looked to be poor in such old buildings - Nix preferred the more recent ruins as they always presented a better opportunity for scavenging.

He hefted his rifle and joined the others in the continued search, his eyes concentrating on potential salvaging opportunities however rather than any threats.

"I reckon we should check out the mines.  Never miss an opportunity!"  He flashed a grin at Jack as he made his final comment.

"Richtig alt. Unglaublich. Na ja, kein Wunder beim einem Volk ohne eigene Kultur und it dem historischen Gedächtnis einer Eintagsfliege,"
the Colonel muttered to himself. He fixed a bayonet to his M4's barrel and proceeded methodically with checking out the ruins.

17:27, Today: COL Kurt L. Schaeffer rolled 14 using 3d8, rerolling max with rolls of 5,6,3. Searching the ruins wth rght no of dice.

1000
Chance City/Drop-Off Point

Col. Schaeffer, Brother Edgar, Dakota Jack, Smoker Nix decided to search the townsite.

Schaeffer and Dakota commenced clearing the buildings, looking for anything useful. Smoker checked out the mineshafts, and Brother Edgar surveyed the site for contamination, always a smart thing if long-term residence was required.

Roadkill picked up the townie and 3 Chosen helpers. After the townie, Brad, asked for help, Rowan decided to throw in as well. If nothing else, she could provide security while they scavenged building material up in Gage. They were all able to easily fit in the rig's cab, which could fit a driver, passenger, and several more in the sleeper's "mini-apartment" in behind the cockpit.

Anchoring the now spread-out group, Peter and Jane stood by at the drop-off point with the rest of the Chosen, as well as Arthur and Michaela. The townie pickup waited there too, as unloading it to drive it to Gage and then loading it up again wouldn't make sense, and Roadkill had cargo space to spare. The CB radio in Peter's technical and his IB helmet could pick up and relay signals from both groups, although if they reacted to a problem in either area then comms between the outlying groups would be impossible without them in the middle.




After a half-hour of searching the ruins of Chance City, Schaeffer and Dakota found nothing of value, which was expected, and no threats, which was also good. Schaeffer found evidence of some transient occupation but likely years in the past. Someone or another had passed through and stayed long enough to build a fire and then conceal the ashes and police up their garbage. Possibly even from a Lat Am or SA patrol during the war. Brother Edgar found no surface contamination. The well-water was at the bottom of a shaft under a metal cover, so a bucket on a lead would need to be brought to check it out thoroughly.




Smoker found several mine shaft entrances up the hillside, all boarded up except one. The open mine-head had a small chamber inside where a railed tunnel led deeper into the Victorio mountains. The entry chamber had some ancient equipment like compressors and a pump, all dating back maybe 200 years. It was in good shape for storage in a museum, but would be completely non-functional without major repairs and parts that would have to be hand-turned on a lathe.

There were also three crushed Alamo Beer cans and a used condom.

---

1000
Gage City

The townie and the Chosen in Gage had gathered a fair amount of building materials in the last half-hour, mostly wood frames, metal window frames, some glass, and a few sheets of Gyprock from the flimsy gas station and trailers. There were plenty of brackets, nails and screws, and there was still some PVC and copper metal piping and bits of wiring left, which was all carefully collected. There were no fixtures or light bulbs.

All salvage was brought to and piled in the trailer. On top of the trailer in the fighting position sat Rowan, keeping watch. At the gas station, Roadkill looked in vain for a gas can or other container. Years of drifters and travelers had cleaned the place out.

The salvagers heard Rowan calling from the top of the trailer.

"I see something moving on the road. East towards Deming, 'bout four and a half miles! Looks like... four or five bikes, coming this way!"

The desert was hot and still, there was no wind. You can't hear the rumble of motorcycle engines...yet.


Marshall's Notes:

To orient yourself, have a look at the photo of Gage. Gage is on the south side of the Interstate. Chance City is further south behind you (off the bottom of the picture). The bikers are approaching from the RIGHT, in the direction of Deming and (eventually) Las Cruces. Back to Pantano City is to the LEFT.

http://tinyurl.com/3x6hc6w

To find the truck's location, search Google Maps for Gage NM or follow the map link posted above or in the Reference section. The truck is parked in the gas station to the south of the Interstate.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:10, Thu 01 July 2010.

"Well I think we done what we set out to do.  Nothin' excitin' happened, but that's good I reckon."  Dakota remarked to the others.  "Reckon we ought to let 'em know the coast seems to be clear?"

As the scouting party regroups, Brother Edgar returns his clicker to his belt.  With a glowing smile, he agrees with Jack's assessment, "Indeed.  It seems quite perfect really.  A good foundation for a future."  He takes another glance around at the crumbled ruins before adding, "You have to admit the foundations really have survived quite well."

Peter sat in his truck, waiting for the radio to come to life. In the meantime, he tried to take his mind off little things that were stupid and yet annoyed him. He cleaned his gun and made sure it was fully loaded and ready to go. He peeked under the hood of the truck as well just to make sure nothing was out of place.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg #100):

Trying to protect herself from the blazing sun, Michaela tied her bandanna over her head and put on her sunglasses. She was dressed in a loose cotton shirt and vest because her leather jacket was just too damn hot.

"So, what do you think of this crew? Not just the Chosen, but the others. Most of them seem all right."

She thought for a second as she sipped warm water from her canteen.

"If something's bugging us, are we as Templars allowed to say anything? Or are we supposed to keep it cool?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:00, Thu 01 July 2010.

Roadkill cursed himself for not parking further off the road or behind the gas station where the bikers could miss him as he sprinted towards the cab and crawled inside. Once he was seated he yanked the CB to his mouth and keyed it up.

"We've got company from the East! Four or five bikers about 4 miles down the road. That ma deuce would sure help right about now!"

ooc: Sorry for the brief post but I've gotta run to work.

Nix was disappointed with the pumping equipment he'd found so far.  He doubted that there was much salvage value in it and the only use might be to link it somehow to the well so that the mutants could get hold of water more easily.

That was something to think about later though, depending on how long they ended up staying.

As it was Nix had a railed tunnel in front of him leading further into the mountain.  The rails could possibly be welded together to make a ram for Roadkill and Nix paused to study them further.  He also wondered where the tunnel led so he slung the sling of his rifle over his right shoulder and pulled out his flashlight.  Turning it on he shone it down the tunnel, holding it with his left hand and pulling his revolver with his right.

He then began to take cautious steps down the tunnel, checking both the floor and roof in case either looked unstable.  There was always the chance that something worth salvaging was further inside.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg #99):

"Ja, it looks like it." The Colonel shrugged. The place actually seemed pretty good for setting up a settlement; the thing that bothered him most was the distance to the nearest fresh water. From his point of view it was too far, but if they could built a cistern it should be less of a danger.

Shaeffer was just about to reply to Dakota Jack's question, when he realised that one memeber of the recon crew was missing.

"Jack, where did zat smoking friend of yours disappear to?"

"Ah hell.  He said somethin' about mine shafts... dammit Smokey I told ya not to poke yer nose in there, damn things are probably ready to collapse after this long.  If'n he went in there ah'm gonna kick his ass."

In reply to Michaela Fukushima (msg #101):

Arthur was silent most of the while as they moved on ahead, leaving it to the more verbose and garrulous members of his present company to fill the air with their sounds.  It was Michaela's talking that brought him out of his silent reverie.  Turning to Michaela, a warm smile lit up his rugged features.  He spoke to her quietly.  "As you say, they seem all right.  They are not the company I might have chosen, but sometimes the path we walk puts us amongst others.  As long as they do not do wrong by our code, it poses no problem for me.  If anything, it seems they are at least willing participants in this task we have undertaken.  Mostly."

He scratched at his beard, which had grown undoubtedly itchy as they had traveled.  "If something is bothering you, Michaela, I advise you to speak your mind so that others around you may have a chance to remedy their conduct, or at least be on notice of your disapproval.  Personally, I would keep your statements calm and diplomatic and retain a level head while making them, despite the opposition you may face from dissenters."

Roadkill watches the approaching bikers with a tense stare as he checks his weapons and hopes that they'll just ride on by.