Chapter 1 - Interlude 2 (Aradia)
OOC: I'm gonna do a little bit of railroading, just to kickstart this thing.
Aisling and Coaxoch grabbed onto the cocksure witch, dashing the fire out as they ducked into the barely-stable remains of a red brick building. There, crouching in the ash, the crew realized the wisdom of this decision, as the rumbling increased to incredible levels before they ever saw a light cross over their fire.
Many vehicles came to a halt near their campsite--dozens, as far as the posse could tell from their spot in the dark. The vehicles, hardy and built for raiding, had an intense aspect about them. Spikes shooting out of wheels, guns and harpoon guns and hooks mounted. Each vehicle had an overgrown compliment of raiders, each in outlandish gear: chains, leather, hard plastic, strange weapons. The vehicle in front this day featured a large and muscular man, a man with hand grenades lining his belt, a horrific makeshift mace perched on his back. The back of the ATV he rode had three smaller men on it, each carrying a bevy of javelins. He stepped off, and regarded the fire pit.
"Recent. In the rubble, could be far."
His retinue cackled gleefully, spying about for those who must have set up this camp. There was joyous murder in their eyes.
It dawned on them who they were confronted with--even Aradia had heard tell of these men. The Road Orcs. The worst scum left of humankind, the most brutal road gang in the wastes. Hundreds of killers, they say. It seemed this was meant to be a bad day. Alex looked to the rest of them, a cold sweat forming over his face.
OOC: What you do next will likely determine if you're going to see someone in the group die or not. This is, by far, the most dangerous random encounter on the table.