Whisper

Whisper had received a message, in the way that such things were done, from the headman of Eastland Brewery offering him a short term job.

Eastland Brewery was a small village that occupied what had been an abandoned brewery before The Nuke. The folks there had gotten the place operating again and traded their homebrew for whatever they needed. This generally earned them the support and protection of nearby Daltonville.

The headman had offered to pay Whisper a case of their Blue Ribbon brew and this was simply too much for him to turn down. One Blue Ribbon brew could be traded for a days rations or up to a couple of rounds of ammunition.

Better still all he had to do was head up the main trail to the north and meet a Doctor Eleanor Price who was headed south to treat the headman's daughter for a life threatening illness and escort her safely back to Eastland.

Sword and scattergun on board Whisper had headed north a couple of days ago and the trip had gone as smoothly as he could have hoped. That is until now.

Whisper was crouched in the brush looking at the Doctor he was sent to escort where she stood, in a clearing, surrounded by five men armed with bows.

While he watched he heard an absolutely horrifying inhuman roar in the distance, followed by a blooscurdling scream, and three of the men trotted off in the direction of it leaving two men watching the Doctor.

Eleanor

An emergency message had found the good Doctor at a small tobacco farm where she had helped deliver a baby and a couple of sheep. The food the farmers had shared with her had been excellent and folks were the kind of people that made her really appreciate her decision to make a life of helping people in a world of harm.

A young boy had arrived running from a nearby homestead and handed off a written note.

The young daughter of the village headman of Eastland Brewery had fallen with an unknown illness and was feared to be near death.

There was talk of payment but to be honest she had hardly read it before packing her gear and heading south. The farmwives had rushed to equip her with a bundle of food including some smoked sausages and corn bread fritters left over from the last big meal.

She had legged it down the main trail south following the directions on the note and was making good time until she ran headlong into the men she had come to think of as The Bastards.

The Bastards has appeared out of the forest like some kind of leafy ninjas and surrounded her. Since then they had been more or less ignoring her attempts at negotiation while discussing the various things they had in mind for her extended stay at their camp.

Out of the blue they were interrupted by an absolutely horrifying inhuman roar in the distance, followed by a bloodcurdling scream that The Bastards seemed to recognize.

The of them immediately trotted off leaving the other two to watch her.

There was no time to celebrate his good luck. No time to debate. Whatever mutated horror that was attacking those men was just the distraction Whisper needed. He rushed out of the brush and slashed at one of the men, hoping to surprise him with a quick attack.

As he swung the strange alien blade he carried, the edge glowed slightly, sizzling the air as the chop fell.

Not sure what I roll here.

Make an Athletics roll to be stealthy and a Combativeness roll for the attack.

"-so you see, it would really make more sense to let me go on my way. You can keep the sausages," she concluded. Obviously The Bastards weren't swayed by her offer. Although her voice still sounded steady, a gnawing worry had started to rise in her guts. At this point, she wasn't sure whether it was for the headman's daughter or for herself. If the girl was in mortal danger, Eleanor being delayed could cost the poor girl her life. But, she was starting to realise as time stretched on, these men were Bad News for Eleanor as well. Obviously she had dealt with situations like these before, but never on her own.

In retrospect, perhaps rushing off on her own had been a bad idea. But the risk had seemed acceptable this morning, and there had been a life on the line. There still was. She had to get out of here.

When the roar sounded, she yelped and clutched her bag tighter. Then, something barrelled through the underbush and launched at one of The Bastards. It looked too small to have caused the inhuman scream, but she wasn't taking any chances. She crouched low, ready to bolt as soon as she saw an opening.

25, Today: Whisper Razortooth rolled 7 using 3d4.  Attack. +1 = 8, partial success
17:25, Today: Whisper Razortooth rolled 7 using 3d4.  Athletics. +2 = 9, partial success

Whisper and Eleanor

Eleanor heard no sound and was never certain what tipped the two men off to the approach of the blade armed Dabber. Maybe it was some sort of redneck telepathy...

Both men turned to face the approaching Whisper and made to raise the bows they were holding.

One of them even made to parry the incoming sword with his bone and wood composite bow but the weapon parted with no more resistance than if it had been made of smoke.

There was a flash and the man fell clutching at his chest, the fingers of one hand spraying in various directions and trailing small streams of blood.

The second man, back turned directly to Eleanor, fumbled for an arrow from the quiver at his hip and stumbled back toward her in an effort to put some space between him and the small hairy demon that was upon him.

Whisper pressed the attack, surging forward to slice at the second man.

Whisper Razortooth rolled 7 using 3d4. That’s another 9

Eleanor tensed as soon as the men turned their attention from her, ready to take off, but didn't move. She wasn't sure why the creature with the sword was helping her out,  but it felt wrong to abandon the small thing to these thugs. Even if it was carrying a large sword.

She gritted her teeth and barrelled towards the second man, in an attempt to get him off balance. The fact that this man was nearly twice her size apparently did nothing to deter her.

17:27, Today: Eleanor Price rolled 4 using 3d4 ((1,1,2))
Wow. This is a Bad Roll.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Tue 19 Jan 2021.

The second archer reaches full draw and has a bead on Whisper's left eye from so close that the Dabber can read the serial number off the old razor blade that was used to make the arrowhead.

Dead to rights. No chance to dodge.

At that precise moment Eleanor barrels into the back of the man's legs at a full run sending him off balance and his arrow off into the blue/green sky.

Whisper's blade cuts cleanly through the bandit's neck just missing the spine. Blood fountains out in a red wave and the wounded archer tumbles forward in shock dying of blood loss in a matter of seconds.

Eleanor is left on the ground bruised and sore but very much alive.

Whisper stands nearby seeing no other nearby threats.

From a short distance away several gun shots ring out and shouting can be heard. Apparently the other three archers have found some trouble of their own.

"Name's Whisper. I've been sent by the Eastland Brewery. You the doctor, I presume. I'm here to get you where you're going."

Looking toward the gunshots, he adds, "We'd better get out of here quick."

He quickly patted down the two men, grabbing whatever valuables he could quickly gather while the doc got to her feet.

Eleanor struggled to get back to her feet, rubbing her knee, which had hit the ground at an awkward angle as she'd crashed down. Her back ached from the smack and her lungs burned. Could be worse though. She could be dead, for example, like those Bastards.

When she was back on her feeth, she breathed in deeply and exhaled. Still alive.

Which meant there was work to do. She looked down on the raccoon, who appeared to be engaged in looting. Well, he was well-dressed enough and he knew how to handle a sword. She'd been in worse company. "That's mighty nice of them. Without you, I'm sure things would have ended differently for me. And yes, let's go while they're still distracted."

For a moment she wondered if whoever the remaining Bastards were fighting needed help, but they sure as hell didn't need her help as much as the Eastland Brewery girl. "Do we follow the trail further south or did you have something else in mind?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:23, Thu 21 Jan 2021.

Satisfied he’d relieved these poor souls from whatever they couldn’t take with them, Whisper sniffed the air.

”I figure we go back the way I came for the time being. Then we’ll see if these guys are following you.”

"Right. Lead the way."

Eleanor normally enjoyed a bit of conversation during her travels, but today's events had rattled her out of her normal disposition. She felt tense, attention fully focused on any sounds of pursuit.

Don't post there yet but my next GM post will move you two to the main thread.

Sorry again for the slow down.

What did whisper snag off the bodies.

Fat Loots:

1 Composite Bow
2 quivers with a total of 13 arrows
2 Good homemade knives
2 pouches with 4 spare bowstrings
3 pouches with leather thongs and sm blocks of beeswax
1 Bright Orange Baseball Cap with a big white T on it
2 baked leather water bottles

Take everything but the bow and quivers.

Whisper turns to the Doc. “Can you use a bow? It looks like it’s in good shape.”

Eleanor shook her head cheerfully. "Oh, no. I try not to stick anything pointy at people. Except when I need to stitch them up, obviously. You might get a good trade out of it though."

”Fair enough,” the dabber says, shrugging. He take all the stuff as none of it is too heavy.

Further posting should be in The Devil Went Down to Georgia thread.