Billy Ray's hulkish form bursts out of the tree line and pounds up the gravelly slope like all the Wreckers in the world were looking to string him up. His movement is spotted by one of the circling Hoops, and a war scream echoes down from above.
As Billy Ray makes for the windbreak, E.V.A prepares her quantum chaos computaions, forming a nimbus of protective energy pulled from the depths of the subatomic realms of matter. She readies her crossbow, tracking several targets in anticipation.
Coca lets loose with Nixon, his shots blowing a chunk right out of a Hoop's shoulder. The Hoop screams and loses control of his Hookbeak; the two drop out of sight.
Roach fires and another Hoop screams. This one also dips down, but Roach can see he is fighting his Hookbeak for control.
The Hoops warband screams, and wheels about, the mutant rabbits working in cheoreographed harmony. Several peel off to deal with this new threat, the rest continue their attack on the wagons.
Coca lets loose with Nixon, his shots blowing a chunk right out of a Hoop's shoulder.
"Boomshakalaka."
Coca swings the huge gun to another rider and fires:
Nixon, damage: (1d20+6+2-2=10)
His shot goes wide.
Billy-Ray pokes his head aroun' da corner o' da bunkr to get a look-see at da fightin's. E's got a rok in one hand, ready ta trow, but iffin's 'e had his druthers, e'd lihk ta beats on sum vermin wit 'is fists.
Eva locks on to a target and anticipates its trajectory using a trigonomic equation and her targeting sensors, Once she has locked on to a flying creature (the gull) she shoots her crossbow.
Attack and Damage Rolls 18 to hit; 5 damage
Billy Ray puts his back to the small concrete structure and has a lookie loo out over the side. The scene is kind of chaotic, there are bodies all about, one unfortunate refugee is still on fire near Billy Ray's position, dead. There seem to be several Hookbeaks down as well, and some broken and twisted Hoop bodies on the ground. Billy Ray is suddenly aware of a screeching above his head. A Hoop is doing a flyby over the shed, tossing a crockery jar with a burning wick down on him.
The incendiary flies over Billy Ray's head, smashing into the slope behind him and releasing a gout of flame.
E.V.A's crossbow bolt strikes true at one of the advancing Hookbeaks causing the evil-looking bird to screech in pain.
Nixon fires wide, Coca just a little off his mark. Roach scores a hit on the lead bird that E.V.A hit. The left wing of the Hookbeak erupts in a reddish mist and the mutant gull drops down below sight.
The two Hoops behind the lead Hoop E.V.A and Roach hit open fire with automatic rifles in their general directions, shredding the leaves all around the group with quick bursts.
Hoop Atk 1: 1d20=3, Hoops attack 2: 1d20=1
the rapid firing causes a bullet to jam in one of the Hoop's rifle, rendering it unusable.
The other three wheeling around try their luck at Coca and Roach's positions.
ATK 1: 1d20=1, ATK 2: 1d20=17, ATK 3: 1d20=20 crit confirm 1d20=8
A bullet zips through the forest cover, grazing Coca's leg and leaving a nasty red gouge. Another Hoop suffers a malfunctioning weapon. He chitters and curses as the trio fly towards you.
Roach shakes his head at the Hoops' ineptitude with weapons. Vermin. Good for them there's a lot of them. However, the lucky hit on Coca-Cola wakes him up. Squinting down the barrel, he pops another giant seagull.
The question marks are Hoops that have been hit and are now out of the line of fire
A bullet zips through the forest cover, grazing Coca's leg and leaving a nasty red gouge.
"AAAAAGggghhh! Jabber that frackin' hurts!"
Coca gets back to business quickly though, reloads, and scopes in on the hoop he was aiming for last round.
*BANG!* Nixon, damage: (1d20+6bonus+2precog=26, 2d12=13)
"Boomshakalaka!"
Billy-Ray pitches a trowin rok at 'im. 1d20+5=9, 1d4+5=8
Billy-Ray explodes into motion, clawing his way up th side of the ancient building and leaping at the vermin, flying and riding, who dared to throw fire at him. 1d20+11=28, 1d20+12=28 1d20+10=15, 1d8+6=11
Eva seeks more cover as she reloads her crossbow(yep that's it stupid crossbows)
Nixon bucks in Coca's hands, the bullet ventilating one of the Hoops swinging about . This also happens to be the rodent what grazed ol' Coca in the first place. The mutant rabbit jerks in his saddle, but manages to remain airborne despite leaking blood from his chest area.
Roach takes a bead on the other side, aiming for the Hookbeak on the right . His bullet finds its mark, eliciting a caw of anguish from the huge gull.
E.V.A pulls back her crossbow's string, readying for the inevitable flyby.
Billy Ray has had about enough of mutant rodents tossin' fire at his pretty hide. He squats and leaps for the eaves of the shed's roof, his muscles coiling like wart-sheathed steel. He clean jerks himself onto the roof, backflipping onto the rusty tin surface and then coiling for a leap at the Hookbeak passing by his position. He sails through the air and lands square on the mutant gull's tail, causing the overgrown dump chicken to squawk in surprise and begin to drop altitude. The Hookbeak's Hoop rider turns around in his saddle just in time to see a ham-sized warty fist shatter his twitchy red nose.
Upon seeing the unlikely sight of Billy Ray jumping their pal, the other Hoops still airborne decide that discretion is the better part of valor. Shreiking and hooting, the remainder of the raiding rabbits flys off over the side of the mountain cursing; dripping blood, fur and feathers as they depart.
"Yes! Take that, ridiculous little freaks!" Roach dances a little jig as the hookbeaks take off.
"Now, lesse if they dropped something useful." With that, he jogs back to the tied-up Bullwinkle and trots up to the encampment.
Coca hobbles up to the plateau cursing and swearing. His giant gallus follows obediently. Coca starts looking the scene over and rifling through the wagons.
Listen, spot, search: (1d20+7=27, 1d20+8=15, 1d20+8=28)
Billy-Ray picks himself up from wherever he ended up after falling off the gull. Pausing to straighten any broken bones, he will head over to the hill-top to check out the aftermath of the Hoppers' ambush. And find something to eat. Scrappin' mahks a body a mite pekish.
The overloaded Hookbeak steadily loses altitude until he awkwardly crashes onto the stony stump-encrusted slope. Billy Ray goes sailing, and the Hoop and his mount go tumbling down the scree, ending up in a tangled pile quite close to where Coca was hiding. The group emerges from the forest cover.
The overloaded Hookbeak steadily loses altitude until he awkwardly crashes onto the stony stump-encrusted slope. Billy Ray goes sailing, and the Hoop and his mount go tumbling down the scree, ending up in a tangled pile quite close to where Coca was hiding. The group emerges from the forest cover.
Coca will put a few rounds in them with his handgun if they ain't dead yet.
Coca ambles up to the tangled Hoop and Hookbeak, limping a bit. He swivels Agnew towards the two. The mutant gull is in a bad way, but still alive, hissing feebly at Cocaman as he approaches. Agnew barks and the Hookbeak's head disappears in a mist of red.
The Hoop is a mess, face smashed in by Billy Ray's massive fist, bones broken on the stony slope. Despite all he is alive and spits blood angrily at Coca after he shoots his mount. He chitters an Anglish patois through broken buck teeth in a squealy voice;
"Eat hraka you embleer filth. Elil take your does and litters while you hunt!"
Agnew barks a second time.
The group heads upslope to check out what's going on at the top. There are five wagons still circled, with a sixth engulfed in flames. A few refugees carrying bolt-action rifles and the occasional .22 pistol begin to emerge from their firing positions.
Their wagons are pretty much OK, despite being ventilated in a few spots. Their harnessed mounts don't seem to have been targeted, and only a couple are wounded. For the most part, these refugees seem to be mutated humanoids, dressed like Albnee folk.
There is one capable-looking warrior in the bunch, a large bat-like creature. He is busy checking on what looks like a large mobile topiary, checking for broken branches.
Chiro:
Chiro had decided to ride alongside the refugees to get a sense of how the road East was faring. He had started the trip anxious. Refugees drew bandits like corpses drew vultures, but he had a mission to accomplish.
Piet Breeanson the mayor of Noratom had asked him to scout out to Grenfield, where a majority of the refugees were headed. If the refugees were getting slaughtered en route, Noratom needed to know.
While Chiro was resting with some refugee wagons at West Summit, the flying Hoops had appeared out of the blue sky squealing shrilly and firing a hail of bullets into the wagons. He got Creeper under cover and took up a firing position.
Chiro accounted for two at least, but there seemed to be no end to them. Just when he was wondering if he could make a valiant last stand a new round of gunfire from below the summit had taken the Hoops by surprise. Within a minute the mutant rabbits were soaring down the side of the mountain with their fluffy tails between their legs.
Chiro emerges from cover and sees a huge blue warty man with three Pure Strainers walking towards him from beyond the slope.
There is one capable-looking warrior in the bunch, a large bat-like creature. He is busy checking on what looks like a large mobile topiary, checking for broken branches.
"Nice bush."
Agnew barks a second time.
*Bang*
Agnew barks and the Hookbeak's head disappears in a mist of red.
Eva calculates the number of rounds Cocaman has and is perplexed why he wasted two useable bullets on wounded enemies, She tilts her head and her hand goes to her Baton, A large branch would have sufficed....She recalculates the amount of ammunition the party has and wonders if it will be enough...
Chiro examines the group approaching, squinting in the daylight as he adjusts his goggles. The big blue bloke looks kind of familiar, and you don't see too many Pure Strains traveling in a small group like that. Putting on his best toothy grin he prepares to say hello as he finishes pruning Creeper to settle it down from the excitement.
The big blue bloke looks kind of familiar
"Chiro, Iz zat chew? Wat's yall doin out chere? Fellas, dis 'eres Chiro. 'Is sis iz frens wit dat yellaheaded gal wat wurks at Walmert's.
"Billy-Ray met 'im an 'is folks bak in Noratom. 'Is momma mahks a fin tastin rhurbarb cobbler. Ahn 'er fried chikin's mity tasty likewize (no offence, Colonel). Say Chiro, 'Ows yo Mama? She stil back in Noratom? Or yall movin on wit da oder refeges?"
Now that Billy-Ray was close enough to see clearly, Chiro lets out a sigh of relief. "Good to see you big guy! You people arrived just in the nick of time. I thought for sure the next time I would taste Moma's cooking would be in the afterlife."
A grizzled old man with a spotchy blue skin and large pointed ears dressed in homespun and denim overalls walks over to the group.
"Mr. Chiro, thankee fer putting your lead up in the air with ourn."
The oldster looks at the new arrivals.
"Thankee folks fer comin' to our rescue. Without you folks we woulda been roadkill fer sure."
The old man puts out his hand to each in turn.
"Name's Yahn Nintendo, lately from the Albnee Confederacy. You folks want to rest a spell I can have our womenfolk cook us up some supper. It's the least we can do for you."
The other refugees are busy dousing the fire on the other wagon by knocking it apart with long hooked poles. Others collect up the fallen and tend the wounded. Yahn looks over at the dead Hoop and Hookbeak corpses.
"You're welcome to whatever that rodent trash had on 'em." Yahn spits on the ground.
"Chiro, Mr. Nintendo. I iz pleased to meet yous both. Bit if yous don't mind I'll be takin some shelta fe da little while an' givin meself some medical treatment."
Coca ambles off to one of the concrete sheds and cleans his wound, then applies some of the medical goo, cursing and shouting as he does so.
Coca limps off to doctor himself at the concrete shed. The shed is empty save for a few stacked logs and some kindling for the firepit in front of it. The refugees start moving their wagons over to the side after the worst of the casualties are patched up. Others wounded like Coca start using various methods to doctor themselves. After spreading the stinging blue jelly on the bullet graze, Coca feels better. .
After the goo has a bit of time to work on anestithizing his nerves, Coca gets up and goes around, looking at the half-a-dozen Hoop corpses littering the summit.
The Hoops are clothed in buckskin vests with many pockets and bandoleers with various bullets and not much else. There are a lot of gold teeth and large earrings in many of them, also a few strings of gold and silver necklaces and armbands. Not many coins but there are a handful of silver ones with the stylized paw and skull motif of Verminont.
The Hookbeaks have odd-shaped, high-seated riding saddles with lightweight bags attached, all of well-tooled leather. The bags carry woven blankets, ceramic jugs with a greenish vegetable-smelling paste in it and slabs of what looks like carrot jerky. The Hoop's weapons are cheaply-made AK-47 clones, the trigger configuration made for the Hoop's paw Out of the six rifles, three look like they survived in shootable shape, the other three will need some work to become servicible.
In one saddle bag Coca stumbles on a tube of medical goo.
"You folks want to rest a spell I can have our womenfolk cook us up some supper. It's the least we can do for you."
Yahn looks over at the dead Hoop and Hookbeak corpses.
"You're welcome to whatever that rodent trash had on 'em."
"Thankee. Ahm feelin a mit peckish."
Billy-Ray drags the corpses off a bit ta "dispose" o' dem. And, since sum folks gots sum odd idears about buryn' deders, Billy-Ray don't need no help wit' dis. ('ceptin Peg o' corse) 'E gits back atime or so latr, sportin' a new crest o' fetherz on 'iz hat.
"Hey Billy, you wanna carry this this bag?"
<He leaves the busted AKs in one of the concrete sheds for any aspiring gun smiths to find and consolidates stuff into the bag.>
In a saddle bag:
10 GP equivalent in portable precious metals.
50 Silver Paws (Verminont coinage=about 1 GP)
300 bullets, of dubious provenance (will fit your AKs)
one tube of HVCS Medical Goo.Probably doesn't fit in the bag:
3 AK-47s
Sho 'nuff.
"Thankee. Ahm feelin a mit peckish."
"Mmmmm rat, now that brings back memories of Mama's Scraper Bunny Stew. Least thats what she called it when we traded it."
Roach helps himself to a couple of saddlebags, as well as some blankets (fortunately, Roach's DR stops any ill effects that might come from any bedbugs). "'Bunny Stew', eh? I might have had some of that. Tasted OK, though."
Eva watches with a curious look on her face as the companions explain that a gull tastes like rat, wondering how they know what rat tastes like, Luckily she realizes she does not need sustanance in this form, she finds a queit place and runs an internal anolog back up check to enter a rest cycle, she wonders if the Bat thing understands his or its name comes from a mexican dish.....,<wrirrrrrr, click, initiating shut down, external alarm on, wrirrrr temperature 36.9 degrees respirations 18, oxygen saturation 99% on room Air, Blood pressure 120/70, stable and slowing sequence in 3....2.....1..... commence rest cycle> fade to black.... Eva draws a blank expression, but is aware of her surroundings.
The party goes about its business on the summit. The dead refugees are buried downslope, the Hoops and Hookbeaks are stripped of goods and given over to Billy Ray to feed to Peg.
The wagons coalesce together and light a big fire in the firepit. An odd piglike mutant is brought out from the woods by a hunter, definitely porcine looking, but with retractable stalk eyes, chitinous armor plates and a scorpion-like tail. Whatever its ancestor really was, it makes some nice ribs.
The group settles down, with a watch in case the Hoops arrive back for another round. Several wagons arrive at sundown and park with the others, and a impromptu party gets going. Most of the refugees are happy to have Noratom millita folk with them.
The refugees talk about their homes, and the horror of the Wrecker onslaught. One poor old feller shows a wrist tattoo he was given in a Wrecker detainment camp. He looks Pure Strain to the eye, but he mumbles that he was 'off-baseline' when the Wreckers put him through medical scanning. He doesn't say much, and from the whispers of his travelling companions hint, he lost his family before escaping from the camp.
A lot of the folks have hope for Grenfield. The old city is now home of the Gren tribe, a mutated humanoid race that has control over their pheremone system to such an extent that no noe within close range of them can attack them. there are also rumors they have wizard-like skills when it comes to animals. They don't use metal, in fact that seems to be their only blind spot. Technology just doesn't make sense to them. They are hoping they kindly technophobes will have room for them.
...she wonders if the Bat thing understands his or its name comes from a mexican dish....
Coca scratches the Colonel's wattles and scans the travelers for hot young women. If none turn up then he'll clean and oil Agnew and Nixon.
Seeing Roach and Coca Cola are still awake, Billy-Ray goes over to chew the fat (so to speak).
"Boys, Yall knows Ah aint ta britest bulb aroun', but Ah ben tinkin'. What say we's aks Chiro to joins up wit usns? 'Es a gud ole boy, ahn seems purty stedy. 'Im beins a flyr ahn all, Ahm guessin 'e kahn do some fine scoutin'. Do ta idear tikle yalls fancy?"
"Dat sounds heavy by me. we can always use some more peeps."
E.V.A's shutdown is looked upon with askance glances, but the refugees are smart enough not to make any comments to the millita folk about their android friend.
Coca looks around the fire for a hot refugee chick, and finds a pretty girl in gingham giving him the eye. She's mostly human-looking, her only visible mutations a brick-red scaly skin and cat-pupiled eyes. Coca slides over and begins his palaver, and the two hit it off like peas and carrots.
A grandmotherly type from one wagon breaks out some big slabs of chewy candy for the group. The dried molasses and nut confection goes down well after the barbequed Scorpiswine ribs.