En route to The Northern Wilds.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:03, Wed 21 Nov 2018.

From --> The Hub - Main

Scare Crow left The Hub behind him. He gunned the engine and blew down the highway, wind whipping his bare chest and billowing his vest behind him like a bizarre, worn cape. The roads were overgrown with grass and even small trees that punched through the broken pavement in places. Nothing like Ash Town. They still took care of the roads there. He'd like to go back soon, someday. The fighting was good down there. The racing even better.

He weaved around the broken pavement, scarcely slowing down. Some turns he took dangerously tight, knee nearly brushing the ground blurring past him. It was fun. But not a long ride. Especially with how fast he liked to go.

Before long he found an area that looked suitable. Given the instructions he had. He downshifted smoothly, slowing the bike, and eased it off the road and drove through the rocky field awhile. Once he found a good place to start looking, he got off his bike, grabbed the weapons off the back, and continued the search on foot.

Scare Crow rolled 5 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,2.  Senses.
Going to spend 1 fortune for a success so I can find the spot.

The instructions Doc Calloway had given Scare Crow were concise enough, even if he wasn't the best reader. He knew the plant he was looking for, or at least what it looked like. They were pretty distinctive. They grew in rocky outcrops, from a single long, green stem that tapered off into white flowers.

It wasn't the most exciting work, but after about thirty minutes he found three sticking up out of a natural ditch. As he gathered the plants up, he could make out the distinct sound of dogs barking. It didn't sound far off, less than a mile if he had to guess.

You can roll survival again to find more plants.

Scare Crow scoured the field until he found some of the plants. He yanked them out of the ground and put them in his vest pocket. The ends jutted out. He didn't want to crush them in his bag. He didn't know about this kind of thing, and the doctor hadn't specified how to preserve them. He didn't think to ask. Best to not ruin them.

He paused, listening to the dogs. They sounded close. It could be a hunter. Or it could be a pack of wild dogs. He backtracked to where he'd parked his bike and wheeled it along with him. If he came across them he wanted a quick escape route. He didn't mind a good fight, but even he knew picking fights with random, feral dogs wasn't smart.

He moved in the general direction of the baying, listening to if they grew further away. He tried to tell how many dogs it could be. Mostly he kept an eye out for more plants as he walked. He didn't have much patience for this kind of task. It required an attention to detail. He was being somewhat sloppy.

Scare Crow rolled 6 using 2d6 with rolls of 2,4. More plants!
No successes. Man, picking flowers is NOT my strong suit.

Scare Crow rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 5,2.  Listening (Senses/Notice)
Taking 1 from notice and adding to 5.

Scare Crow continued his search, slowly moving in the general direction of the dogs. He wasn't having much luck finding more plants. He was either overlooking them in his impatience or there were truly none and he would have to go find a new spot.

Straining his ears, he did notice the barking wasn't getting any farther or closer. They weren't moving at all. As he meandered closer, cresting the top of a hill, he could distantly make out a new sound: a high-pitched screaming.

Scare Crow froze at the top of the hill. His head tilted. The screaming didn't bode well. For whoever was being attacked that is. An unfortunate consequence of his upbringing was a stunted capacity for empathy. He understood the person may be suffering, and wouldn't want to be in their place, but suffering and death were givens in the wasteland.

When he lived at Hell's Point, he would have left the person to the dogs. Not his problem. People died all the time. It could be that attitude was why no one, none of his brothers or sisters he'd lived alongside for years, had bothered to look for him. For months he had been on the boat. No one came.

A heavy, inconvenienced sigh filtered through the mask. He drew a long, mean knife. It was bone-handled, jagged, wrapped in straps of leather. He stayed low in the field and moved up quietly, taking to the posture as naturally as any predator that normally might lurk around in the tall grass there. He would come up stealthily and try to gauge the situation from there.

Scare Crow rolled 13 using 3d6 with rolls of 6,5,2. Stealth (nimbleness/stealth)
Nat 6. Spending 1 to bring 5 to 6, so 2 successes total.

Rolled the 6 again but it came up 1. I'll spend 3 Fortune to get rid of it if extra rolls like that make bad things happen.

I believe you aren't punished for what are essentially bonus rolls, but I'll look into it.

Scare Crow moved deadly silent through the field. After a few minutes of quick, low to the ground travel, he came across the source of the racket. He could see three scrawny dogs with ragged, mottled coats barking at a tree and trying to scrabble up the trunk. There was a small child perched in the branches, screaming and shouting in fear. Neither the dogs nor child seemed to have noticed the raider's approach yet.

Difficulty to sneak up on the dogs is 1 because they are distracted. If successful, they'll be Surprised.

Scare Crow remained crouched. The mask peered out from between the blades of grass, an impassive visage observing the dogs and frightened child. His body was tense and coiled. Adrenaline started to kick in, heart pounding, blood rushing to his head. He lived for that feeling. Driving fast, picking fights, it was electric and he was a junkie.

He moved forward, slinking out of the tall grass with his knife in hand. With his other hand he put a finger over his mouth, indicating for the child not to acknowledge him should they look his way. He tried to angle himself out of the frenzied dogs' peripheral vision. He had the chance for one good opening. Then things would get messy. He didn't mind messy.

When the dog reared up against the tree again, he darted forward. He'd try to slit the throat or gut open the belly, whichever presented itself easiest, then turned to face the other dogs, keeping his free arm bent in front of him to shield his throat.

Scare Crow rolled 14 using 3d6 with rolls of 5,6,3. Stealth
Nat 6. Have a pool of 4 so I'll spend that to bring 5 and 3 up to 6s.
3 successes.

Scare Crow rolled 14 using 3d6 with rolls of 6,2,6.  Attack (melee)
2 successes
8 lethal damage

One of the dogs put its front paws up on the tree, once again trying to clamber up in a frenzy, and Scare Crow made his move. He darted forward and was able to slash the dog's throat open from behind. The animal let out a gargled yelp and collapsed to the ground, blood pumping out in spurts.

The other two dogs rounded on the raider, one of them barking madly- he had a few seconds to capitalize on them being caught unaware. The child in the tree continued to yell.

Dogs are surprised for this round.

Scare Crow dragged the knife through the dog's throat in one practiced motion. The electrifying thrill of battle suffocated most of his thoughts. He acted on instincts now. Ones he'd honed over a short, messy lifetime. It was a lifetime defined by brutal battles. Every dominant fiber of his being had been shaped by violence, bloodshed, and senseless killing. He was not smart. Not powerful. He could kill. That was the one thing he was truly good at and that's why he was still alive.

He advanced past the body. A low growl escaped him. He sounded almost as animalistic as the snapping hounds. He brandished the bloodied knife. Then he darted forward again. He attacked the closest dog, whooping and shouting in a nonsensical frenzy.

Scare Crow rolled 18 using 3d6 with rolls of 6,6,6.  Attack the doggy (Nimbleness/melee)
Dice roller REALLY likes me today. None of the 6's gave more successes.
12 lethal damage from knife.

The closest dog met the business end of Scare Crow's knife and its legs crumpled beneath it from the brutal assault. During the attack it looked like something in its spine or neck may have been severed.

The last dog looked sturdier and healthier than the other two. It had a big, broad chest and a wide muzzle set in front of two small, dark eyes.

It growled and lunged at Scare Crow as he pulled his knife from the other dog.
Rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,6 for Dog Attack
2 Successes
6L damage.

With a guttural snarl it tore into Scare Crow's arm, savaging its head back and forth, tearing into his flesh.

Another angry growl bubbled up in the raider's throat, followed by a sharp, pained hiss. He tried to shake the dog off his arm, but it jerking its head back and forth was putting him off balance. The pain was dull. Later it would hurt. He gritted his teeth and leaned into it instead. The dog was latched on pretty good. Better to let it chew his arm than throat. He knew panicking and pulling his arm would only make the damage worse. Hell's Point had used dogs. Big, mean, hungry dogs with scarred muzzles. He knew full well what they could do. He just tried to keep his footing.

He stabbed at the dog, plunging the knife in wherever he could. He didn't aim for anything in particular. He just wanted to hurt it so it would release his arm.

Scare Crow rolled 10 using 3d6 with rolls of 3,2,5. Attack again.
Pool of 4. Spending to bring up 5 and 3.
2 successes.
8 lethal damage.

Scare Crow's first blow glanced off the dog's head, slashing it but failing to puncture. He attacked again and plunged the knife into its broad chest. The dog yelped and let go momentarily. Scare Crow could see his own blood on its teeth and the fur around its muzzle was dark and wet with gore. It had torn the dressing Doc Calloway applied clean off.

The dog gargled raggedly. Its strength was failing but it had some fight in it yet.

Muskox rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 5,4 for Dog attack
Dog is Injured, so attacking suffers 1D difficulty penalty.
1 success.
3L damage.

It threw itself at Scare Crow again. It pounced up against him. It snapped against his arm again and when it dragged him down, lunged and bit at his throat. It only managed to briefly snag onto his shoulder, but it was painful and tugged at the mask's tubing in an awful way. The dog's movements were flagging but Scare Crow was beginning to feel the effects of his injuries too; nothing inhibiting yet, but he was toeing the line.

Dog has 4HP left. 1 Success will finish it.

Scare Crow cried out in equal parts anger and pain when the dog snagged on his mask. Black dots appeared in his vision, the tubing yanking somewhere in his torso, by whatever design the insane scientists had created. It was more pressure than pain.

He collapsed down onto one knee, wrapping an arm around the dog and wrestling with it on the ground now. His breaths came out in strained, gurgled gasps. It wasn't an impressive fight anymore. It was a melee down in the dirt for survival, between a dying dog and bloodied, flagging man. He hooked an arm around its neck so it was locked close to his body, kept the snapping jaws at bay, and plunged the knife into the ear and through the brain.

He pushed into it and held the dog until it stopped struggling.

Scare Crow dropped the body. He fell onto his backside. A twinge of satisfaction came as he surveyed the carnage. He grinned toothily under the mask. Three dead dogs.

His masked face upturned to the afternoon sky. Blue sky. Dark clouds. He closed his eyes. Blue sky. Dark clouds. He steadied his breathing. Then the head tilted to regard the child in the tree. The raider slowly lifted his hand and gave the kid a thumbs up. His arm was a torn, bloody mess. Gore from himself and the dogs spattered both his arms and decorated his bare, scarred chest.

"Safe now."

He wiped the knife clean in the dog's fur, sheathed it, and pushed himself to his feet. He moved over to the base of the tree to see if the child would come down.

"Dogs are dead."

Scare Crow rolled 7 using 3d6 with rolls of 1,3,3.  Attack
Spending 3 from melee pool on a 3.
1 success, 4 lethal

The child had stopped screaming at some point during the battle. She stared down at the raider with wide, frightened eyes. While he had just saved her, Scare Crow's unnerving appearance and mannerisms undoubtedly scared the girl regardless. She looked anywhere between eight or ten as best as Scare Crow could guess. She had dark skin and wore her hair in two puffy buns on either side of her head.

They had something of a stand-off for a moment, the girl peering down at Scare Crow and him peering up at her. "I'm Cassie," she finally piped up. "Are you a nice man, mister? My momma gave me a knife, so if you're not a nice man you'll be sorry."

She started to climb shakily down. Scare Crow could see the girl did indeed have a knife sheathed at her hip. She was shaken up but looked unharmed.

Scare Crow watched the girl. Cassie. He nodded.

"Yes," he lied. "Nice man. No stabbing."

He reached out to help her get out of the tree. If she accepted, he would lift her the rest of the way down and quickly set her on the ground. He was not used to children. They had some at Hell's Point. Some were the women's by blood relation. Others had been taken from families. When they were young it was easy to teach them loyalty. How to fight. And if they didn't keep them, they sold for a good price.

"Cassie." He pointed to the girl, confirming her name. Then he jabbed a thumb to his chest. "Scare Crow. Crow. For friends."

He collected one of the plants that had fallen out of his pocket during the melee. He tucked it back inside. He only had three to show for the outing so far.

"Are you alone. Out here?" His breath strained raggedly through the mask. "Where is your. 'Momma?'"

The girl allowed Scare Crow to lift her out of the tree, though he noticed her hand moved to the knife. She kept it there until he introduced himself, then cocked her head and pulled a face. "Scared Crow? That's a funny name."

She watched him collect the flowered plant and shook her head when asked if she was alone, though it could be because she took the question literally. "My momma lives in the field way down with my daddy and my big brother Louis," she answered, pointing in the general direction she guessed her house to be. "I sneaked out because Louis wouldn't come play with me and I wanted to go exploring and find treasure."

She hopped over the bloody corpse of the dog, seeming to have collected her nerve rather quickly. She found a sack bag she'd dropped behind the tree when escaping the dogs. "See?" She held it open for Scare Crow to look. There were wild plants inside, some the same species he was hunting, and a couple choice rocks. "Daddy makes lots of stuff from plants but some of them are only for me."

She closed the bag and held it away from the raider.

He didn't bother correcting Cassie on his name. Scare Crow stayed silent. He didn't like talking. He didn't care to ask about her parents or Louis. He stared down into the bag when the girl opened it. Plants. Rocks. Those didn't look useful. He clamped his hand around his injured arm. Warm, sticky blood. He didn't have bandages. He looked around the field, glancing to the direction Cassie had pointed, then faced the girl again.

"You know plants." He pointed to the ones in his pockets. "These ones. Show me where. To find more."

He tilted his head, nonverbally telling the child to follow. He went back to where he'd left his bike then started to roll it through the field. He spoke again in a growl. "Then I take you back. To family..."

He wanted to have more to show for the outing. The doctor likely wouldn't be able to do much with only three plants. The bite wasn't the worst injury he'd suffered. He could tough it out until he finished the job.

Cassie followed Scare Crow to the bike, having to scurry along to match his longer strides. "Sure!" she chirped. "We better not take long though. Momma will be looking for me soon. But I know all the good spots. Finding those plants is so easy."

She said this with a note of smugness, like she was privy to something Scare Crow was not. The pair continued on to the bike. It was still where Scare Crow left it in the grass. Cassie's face lit up excitedly when she saw the motorcycle, but she seemed to think better of asking to sit on it or touch it.

Once he had the bike rolling, Cassie went ahead and started to lead the way to what she deemed "good spots."

Since Cassie is helping we can use Teamwork.
You both have 2 Sense, so it's still a 2d6 roll.
She has 3 Survive so lets use her pool.
To expedite things we can make multiple Search rolls next post.
Each search roll will take about 10 minutes in game time.

Scare Crow let Cassie lead the way, trusting the girl knew where to search better than he did. He hadn't been taught much about plants as a child. Nothing good ever grew in the trog warren. Soil was bad. After he left he'd been picked up by raiders. Then they'd gone to Hell's Point. They taught him how to fight and steal. They didn't need to know these things, how to grow crops or forage, when other people's work was so often ripe for the taking.

They spent about thirty minutes looking. He knew he shouldn't leave the bite untreated for more than an hour. It would start to fester. Ignoring the pain was easy enough for him. It wasn't the worst injury he had to shrug off and likely wouldn't be the last. Cassie had a more patient eye than him and the search already yielded good results. Once he stowed the last of their findings away he turned to Cassie and spoke for the first time since they began looking for plants.

"Done now. Tell me where house is. No walking. Drive. Faster."

He waited for Cassie to tell him what direction to go in or what landmarks to look for. The bike's seat was large enough for two adults. It would accommodate her easily. He straddled the bike and patted the seat behind him.

"Here." He reached down and helped her up onto the back. Then he undid his riding helmet and stuck it on the girl's head. He wordlessly mimed at her to clasp it under her chin and adjust the straps. "For safety. Hold onto me. Whole time. Or you fall off."

He waited for Cassie to oblige then started the engine. Reflexively, he signaled his hand to show he'd be moving now like he'd do with a raiding partner. He realized belatedly she wouldn't know what it meant.

He really wasn't used to children. Actual children. This one was different from him when he was young. Sometimes he wondered if he ever had gotten to be a child. Life wasn't easy in the wasteland, but children were still permitted their little games, their incessant questions, flights of fancy. He'd been expected to shut up. Fend for himself. He would've been expected to fight those dogs or die. And he'd learned to not trust adults at face value, even if they professed they were "a nice man." It seemed normal at the time. He could remember other children being taken to Hell's Point. The new ones always seemed like another species entirely. That's how Cassie looked to him too. Some kind of anomaly. Something from another world.

He started driving to where Cassie pointed out. He didn't go as fast as usual. The bike was outfitted for offroad. All the same, he didn't want the girl to do something stupid and fall off.

Scare Crow rolled 10 using 2d6 with rolls of 6,4. Searching
2 successes
Scare Crow rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,5. Searching 2
2 successes
Scare Crow rolled 2 using 2d6 with rolls of 1,1. Searching 3
Haha snake eyes. Spending 3 fortune to reroll.
Scare Crow rolled 5 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,2. Reroll (3 fortune)
1 success.

Cassie helped find more plants. She didn't seem to mind the silence on Scare Crow's part and continued to chatter happily about the task at hand. She explained a bit about what her father did with them, namely make salves not unlike what Doctor Calloway was attempting back at The Hub. She also kept an eye out for interesting rocks, which wasn't particularly useful but she seemed to be enjoying herself. All in all, they managed to collect 16 more plants.

When prompted to give directions, Cassie blinked in surprise at Scare Crow's sudden request. "That way," she pointed down the field. "It's kind of far, but my house has a big barn by it, it's past the big skeleton tower, it's easy to remember. If we find the beaver river that's how we know we passed it."

She clambered up onto the seat behind Scare Crow, her eyes going a bit wide. It took her a second to realize what he was trying to pantomime. She clasped the helmet and pulled the straps, but it was still a little big on her. She had to push it back a bit so it wasn't in her eyes but it was better than nothing.

"Okay. Don't go too fast," she warned. She wrapped her arms around Scare Crow's waist. "I've never been on a bike. Do you know how to do jumps?"

Scare Crow followed in the general direction Cassie pointed. He could see the remnants of an old cell tower, overgrown and falling apart which must be the "skeleton" Cassie referred to, meaning they were going the right way. As they drove the girl became more nervous about being on the bike and held on tightly around Scare Crow's stomach, to the point it inhibited his breathing.

You can continue to Jackson's 'Stead - Northern Wilds