|DM - ARC|
The plane has barely landed on the Tarmac of S.F.I.A. And you can feel the hot wet air coming off of the ocean already. While the rest of the passengers frantically gather their carry on and fight with their neighbours as they jockey for position exiting the plane you seem to be miles north in the deep cold of the Athabaskan Council lands...
Several years ago in the middle of nowhere thousands of miles north of Grand Prairie
Huddled in the frozen seats of a Tata Hotspur half buried in heavy falling snow waiting for the patrol craft to move on while you watch nervously through the dense pines. Somewhere, out of sight are your teams spotters. Two keen eyed locals using snow mobiles to range ahead and scout out a safe route. The comm comes to life, Scout 2 here. Eye in the sky looks to be finishing up... Yup there he goes, heading east so he won't be bothering us anymore." underneath you can almost feel the weight of the patrols eyes lifting from your shoulders but everyone waits another minute or two before bursting out of their hiding places in shower of white snow and roaring across the tundra.
You haven't even made it a quarter of the way this trip and you've already had to stop three times to hide from patrols. Something seems to have riled up the council, maybe someone tipped them off?
The patrol had come out of nowhere, it happened so fast. One minute you're all racing down the last few miles to the border, not a thing in the sky, the next thing you know, someone's firing at you. A couple rounds manage to connect and pierce the tires as the truck spins out and tumbles a few times before coming to a halt on its side. Excited chatter is all over the comm as both scouts turn tale and bolt for freedom. The patrol craft veers off and chases down one of the scouts, blasting it to pieces.
You're still not sure how you managed to get the package, all of the fur, across the border where Mr. Johnston is waiting but here you are laughing and counting your creeds from a job well done. Greybeard, an old dwarven runner who's been running with you off and on for a while shakes hands and pats backs as he explains this was his last run. He's going somewhere warm to dry out his bones and invites you to look him up of you ever happen to be in San Francisco.
San Francisco current day
Shaking you head as the memories fade and then realizing that everyone else has already left the plane you get up step out into the bright unforgiving sun. Things were getting pretty bad in Seattle, maybe a change of venue is just what you need to turn your luck around.