.
Y'all find yourselves in the scenic little town of Belknap Colorado. Well, it used to be little. Now it's population of about a thousand seems huge compared to half the other settlements in the wasteland. It's a pretty little place, all things considered. A large wall of scrap iron and sheet metal surrounds the town, with a few guards keepin' a lookout at all hours. They've even managed to mostly patch up the damage from the last raider attack pretty good.
|
A cloud of dust wakes on the horizon as Lucille soars the road, her engine roaring.
Riding her is a helmeted figure, a humanoid silhouette with wide shoulders.
The bike stops as she nears Belknap's entrance and the engine comes to a halt.
"Where can I find motor oil?" the figure yells from his position.
Jane looks up at the person sitting atop the monstrosity that has just pulled up next to her. "I dunno, pardner," she yells back. "I'm new here myself."
One of the other men at the entrance of the town turns to regard the other travelers. He looks as though he could be rather tall, were it not for the stooped back under a makeshift pack. Wearing a homemade outfit of leathers and old fabric, complete with trailing jacket and hood, and with a bristly beard suggesting days out in the wastes, the man fits the bill of a wandering hermit. The only things of interest about him are his surprisingly ugly face, scratched with scars and a patch over one eye, and the short-barreled, lever-action firearm in a holster on his thigh.
Zeke regards the other arrivals with a stern eye, and turns to his companion. "Well Niles, what do you think? Good guys, bad guys?" He squints back at the man on the bike. "Feel like I've seen that one before."
Zeke's companion is a fair skinned man of an above average height that has short black hair, grey eyes and is very thin. Well Zeke, I don't know. He seems kinda loud...which, well that might be bad. But, then why would a bad guy make such an entrance? So, maybe he's a good guy and the loudness is just a show? Nilus offers his opinion, but its really not any help.
Richie allows his much calloused feet to carry him through the big scrap metal doors of Belknap. He didn't often come this way, but a lovely old lady back in junkyard had needed an urgent message delivered and so... off he went. He can't help but slow as he passes a large stationary bike ridden by a large man talking to a mixed race women. "Sounds like you want to head to the markets, or ask around for a garage." he recommends, overhearing their conversation.
Richie doesn't seem all that impressive, but quite... strange. His purple robe is travel-stained and well worn, though kept in good condition, and his backpack is a little more beaten up. The figure inside the robe is quite slight, only about 5'7" and looks to be in his late teens, though it's somewhat hard to tell given he's not exactly... normal. He seems friendly enough, always ready to burst into a smile despite the soft green scales covering ~80% of his body, and the fan of skin which is currently folded down atop his otherwise bald head.
|
|
Max nods his head towards the purple robed stranger "Kudos to you, stranger. Can you show me the way, I will bring you where you need in return. Name's Max Powers. What's yours? I'll appreciate the company, anyway I'll need more directions and guidance."
Before Richie can answers his attention turns towards Zeke and Nilus, even with Zeke disguised Nilus rings a bell in Max's memory... he just doesn't know which one.
"Ey bub, do I know you? I feel like I've met you before... but I can't place right where or when."
Nilus gives the loud cyborg a "who me?" look.
I. Uh, I'm Nilus. I'm from No Consequence and Uh. I don't think we've ever met.
It obvious from the young man's stammering that he's intimidated by this Harrowed road warrior.
Shaking her head, Jane enters the gates. No one seemed too concerned about her. They never were, at first.
Zeke nods at Nilus's thoughts. "Not bad, not bad. Coming to a decision more quickly is better, though." The Templar considers offering his own thoughts, but is cut off by another shout from the rider, this time directed at the pair. "No Consequence, hah!" he wheezes, putting an elderly rasp into his voice. "Ain't that the truth."
The woman catches his eye though, shaking her head as she enters the town. Odd. Leaving Nilus to decide whether he wants to stick around with the bike man or follow, Zeke shuffles after Jane, wanting to keep an eye on her. When Max called out, the memory clicked; the cyborg definitely falls under "good guy" territory as far as Zeke is concerned.
"Well... I'm not all that familiar with Belknap here, but it shouldn't be too hard to find the market. I'm sure someone can point us in the right direction." he says optimistically as he holds out a black (and slightly pointed) nailed hand. "Richard Jean of Floppy's Hollow, call me Richie."
He looks over to the other pair of new arrivals as Max shouts at them; he had to agree that Max was a little loud, but he wasn't likely to let that bother him. He gives the pairing of Niles and Zeke a friendly wave before settling down to wait for when Max was ready to leave.
One of the guards near the gate glances over at the new arrivals. He doesn't seem too troubled by the group, so long as they're not troublemakers, but he does catch most of their conversation. "Well, if you're lookin' for supplies, ya' know, food, oil, that kinda thing, then you can go stop in at Jerry's place. If ya' need spook juice, you'll have ta go see old Professor Piero. I'd suggest ya'll head to the Motor Lodge if ya' need someplace to lay down tonight and Pinky's always has drinks if ya' want to wet your whistle."
|
|
"Jerry's first then the Lodge, it will." he then turns to Richie and smiles "Intention is what counts, Richard, and you seem interested in helping. Hop in the sidecar, just point me to where you go. It may be a bit tight, but if you wanna ride with me I'll go slow. Just fast enough so we can pick your friend before you lose him."
And as soon as they hop in, Max fires Lucille and enter town.
Jane heads straight for Pinky's place. She needs a good stiff drink after a long haul through the wasteland. She walks into the saloon and orders a whiskey, straight.
Zeke pauses as the gate guard tells them where to go for what they desire, and he glances back again to Nilus, hoping to catch the lad's eye and subtly motion him to follow. At the mention of somewhere to "wet your whistle," though, the odd woman set off again. Hoping the young man follows, Zeke begins shuffling after her once more. Good to stop there anyway, need to top off my own bottle.
"I... I might need another drink," Aaron mutters, his head down on the ramshackle barhead at Pinky's. An empty glass of moonshine sits in his off-hand, cloudy with dirt and grime. A black military cap lies next to his head on the bar, fallen off when he face hit the wood. "'Ey, did'ja hear me? I think I need another drink," Aaron slurs, nearly sliding off of his bar stool. He straightens himself back up, putting the cap back on his head. He groans and slams the glass down on the bar, nearly shattering the flimsy glass. "Look, I had a rough couple days, and I need m'self another f*ckin' drink, okay?"
The travelers arrive at the saloon in short order. It's not like the town is that large to begin with. Inside, the place is dimly lit by a few grungy light bulbs hanging free on the ceiling. It's still early enough that there aren't many patrons around. Four men are sitting around a table nursing mugs of flat looking beer and playing some sort of card game while another man with a bald head is sitting alone in the corner. A second bald man is face down at the bar, moaning for more to drink. The bar tender, a somewhat skinny man, narrows his eyes at the drunk. "You got somethin' to pay? 'Cause you ain't gettin' another cup without some cash."
Anyone who heads off to Jerry's instead finds a small, but surpisingly clean general store. The front window seems to have been recently busted in by something, but otherwise the place is in pretty decent shape. "Howdy," a slightly rotund man with greying behind the counter says. "I don't recognize ya' so you must be passin' through. What can old Jerry get for you?"
Zeke pushes into Pinky's saloon after Jane, although he doesn't cast so much as a sidelong glance her way once inside. The haggard-looking man makes his way to the bar, where he thunks his pack on the counter next to the bald man's cap. Reaching inside, he rummages for a few moments, pushing aside the Wilson-wrapped handle of some tool sticking out of the top, before pulling out a largish glass bottle. It's difficult to determine what might be inside, considering both the dusty outside of the bottle and the off-color, not-quite-clear nature of the liquid.
"What's the cheapest you have?" Zeke glances at the bald man moaning for a drink, but mostly keeps his attention focused on the bartender. "Just enough to top me off."
"I told you, call me Richie. Or Rick. Richard's always sounded too formal to me." he says as he peers as the bike's sidecar, then Max, before climbing in with a shrug.
"Where I want to go... well I need to find someone. Delilah Harent. Jerry sounds like he'd know people round here, and you need your oil so... If we don't have any luck there then maybe we can find someone at Pinkie's" he suggests with a smile. He wasn't much of a drinker himself but pubs were always a good place to find information... at least the right sort of pub was.
"Hello Jerry! Yes, yes, I'm here on business and my new friend Max here... well I'm not sure if he has other plans, but he's after some oil for his hog out there." the scaled young fellow says with a smile and a thumb jerked towards the patched window. "I'm hpping you can help me find someone Jerry. A Mrs. Harten. I've got an urgent letter for her from her ma up in junkyard."
"Whiskey, straight up," Jane says to the bartender. She takes out a hand-rolled cigarette and looks about for a book of matches or a lighter.
The bartender leaves the bald man to grab a bottle of whiskey and tops off Zeke before pouring a tin cup for Jane and sliding it down the bar. "You must be new in town," he says. "Welcome to Belknap."
Aaron fishes around in his pocket for a few seconds, eventually tossing down some bullet casings down on the counter. "There, happy? Now jus..." Aaron trails off as Zeke approaches the counter, giving him a once over. "You from around here, stranger? I only just got here the other day, walked here from Junkyard after my truck gave out. You know anywhere that might have some work?"
Zeke turns to the bald man beside him and raises his eyebrow, regarding the man as he takes a swig from his bottle. He licks his lips a couple times and sets the bottle down. "Why in the hell would I know somewhere that has work when I just got here? And what makes you think I'd give it to the fool so deep in the tin he forgot to pay?"
Shaking his head, he pulls a matchbook from a pocket and flips it to Jane. "And they say I'm a hopeless drunk." He takes another pull from his bottle and pops the cork back in. "Used to say the Lord helps them that help themselves. Same goes for most folks nowadays."
"I didn't forget," Aaron starts, swinging an angry glance towards the other man. "I just hadn't pulled out the cash yet, alright? I didn't know you weren't from 'round here, I barely got into town myself. You think I met all the locals? Let's see you steal a truck and outrun the... oh, f*ck it all. You're not gonna care." Aaron looks back to the bartender expectantly, rolling the glass around on the counter.
Zeke, why'd you have to be so mean. That guy looks like he's had it rough. Nilus murmurs
"Maybe not, but you've got to rely on instinct these days, and my gut likes this one less than the booze." Zeke leans on the counter and eyes Aaron. "On the contrary, I care very much. What's that about stealing a truck?"
"Look, I don't need to prove sh*t t'you, alright?" Aaron swings around, eyeing Zeke through the haze of the drink. "I thought maybe you were from around here, might know someone who needed, y'know, protection or somethin' of the sort." He stands up, a bit wobbly, but he locks eyes with Zeke in an altogether unnerving fashion. "What's it to you, anyway? No one's gonna miss the damn thing anyway, at least not anyone you'd care about." He stops talking, abruptly seeming far less drunk than he did beforehand, his eyes still boring into Zeke's skull from the next bar stool over.
'There's no way they found me yet, that's impossible! I ditched the truck in Junkyard, and I ripped the chip out before I left... they couldn't have tracked me here. But he wants to know about the truck...' Aaron thinks, keeping his focus on Zeke. His eyes widen slightly as he probes Zeke's mind with his own, focusing his psionic powers. 'Who are you, and who do you work for?'
Zeke stares at Aaron, interested in the way the man suddenly seems more sober and able. Unbeknownst to him, a bit of information is gleaned through psychic power: Ezekiel Fightmaster, Knight Templar.
"I'm not asking for proving, just asking for answers. Man looking like me walks in, clearly off the road, and you ask me for work. Now I'm wondering if you aren't just some drunk after all, on account of you're talking and standing pretty fine, and now I hear you stole a truck." He pauses and stares the other man down. "Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, stranger, so let's try and be civil once more. Who'd you steal a truck from?"
Nilus watches Zeke and the newcomer with trepidation. He lays a hand on Zeke's forearm in a gesture for him to keep calm.
Yes, no reason to get rowdy. Right? We can all be friendly.
Zeke looks at Nilus and draws in a deep breath. The kid's right--don't want to go starting a fight. That was never the plan, but stepping back might be good. Sh*t, this must be what it's like to have a squire. Wonder if it was the same for Serena. He sighs. Probably not, seeing as I was older than her. But let's not go back there, Zeke.
"The boy's right. I did say let's stay civil, so let's have us a sit-down to chat this out."
The bartender swipes up the bullet casings. He examines one for a minute, then nods and slides them into a pocket under his grungy apron. He pours another cup of whiskey for Aaron and leaves the two at the bar. "Whoever starts the fight gets kicked out," he calls back as he goes to wipe down a few old tin cups. "And gets to explain the damage to the guards."
The large man chuckles. "Ah, of course. I believe I have a few cans in stock. It's a bit old, but it will do ya' just fine." He rummages around behind the counter for a bit and finds a plastic jug with a faded Mobil 1 label on the front. "Here ya' are. That'll be ten dollars. Stuff's not exactly easy to find sometimes."
He looks over at Richie. "Mrs. Harten... oh right. She's the older woman who lives off on the western side of town. Ya' just want to head down the main street here and take the last left before the wall."
"Thank you very much Jerry!" he says, practically bouncing on the spot at having managed to get the information so easily. He then shrugs off his pack and rummages in a side pocket that jingles. "Here, it's a bit dinged up, but the wheels work just fine. I'm sure someone'll like it." he says pulling out a small, dingy looking toy car. He puts the toy down on the counter and pushes it towards Jerry, the little hot wheels rolling along the top with only a bit of a wobble to it.
He then steps back to wait for Max, humming to himself.
Aaron relaxes visibly after probing Zeke's mind, realizing the man is not in fact a Combine spy. "A chat? Look, like I said I didn't steal it from anybody you'd care about." Aaron sits back down, taking up his new glass of moonshine. "The truck belonged to the Combine... as did I." Aaron gestures to the black military cap on the bar counter. "Took of with it in the middle of the night, outran the patrol they sent after me. The damn thing broke down in Junkyard, so I ripped out the chip and sold it; that's how I fixed up the rifle. I walked here, only been here maybe a day or two... I'm just trying to find somewhere I can lie low, maybe get some distance between me and them."
Zeke glances to the bartender and sits, listening to Aaron's story. It sounds a little wild to believe, but there isn't any real sense of lying in the man's voice, and besides, it'd take someone with a big pair of balls and not much to lose to make up a tale about something like this.
"Combine, eh? Suppose you're right, then. Don't much mind you taking one of their trucks. That's quite a story, though." Zeke pauses and looks to the door. "Might be you'd want to keep that quiet from most folks. Not reveal yourself, as it were."
Jane downs the whiskey in a single shot, the lights her smoke and lays a single bullet (.357 AP) on the counter. "That work?'" she says to the bartender. "Where in town is a decent place to lay yer head? I don't want no flophopuse or someplace where I'm likely to have to shoot someone fer tryin' to rob me."
Jerry looks at the toy car and shrugs. "Eh, I can probably get a buck or two from one of the town moms." He lets it lie on the counter for now and turns back to Max at the cyborg's question. "Oh, the Motor Lodge offers garage for your ride, no charge. The owners are good like that."
The bartender glares at Aaron. "If he wants to keep it quiet, he shouldn't be wearing the f*ckin' hat. Guards nearly arrested him on sight." He spits off to the side and glances down at Jane. "The Motor Lodge is the only place in town. It's nice enough and the guards stay nearby to keep an eye on troublemakers. You're more likely to get into trouble here than at the Lodge."
Jane takes a long draw on her cigarette and shrugs a thank you to the barkeep. "You escaped the Combine," she says to Nikhols. "Riiight. Nobody escapes the Combine. You might have eluded them fer a while, but they'll catch up to you. They always do."
Nilus whispers to Zeke What's the Combine?
He's heard of it, but only whispers and rumors.
"That's what I'm worried about, being found. Hence why I'm trying to find somewhere I can lay low, that or put as much distance as I can between them and me." Aaron says, looking over at Jane. He turns back to Zeke, shrugging. "Where I was from, I hadn't even heard of the Combine, and I only made my escape... five, six days ago?" He sighs, pushing the empty glass away from him. "Before they picked me up, I kept the town I was in safe from raiders. Once they took me, killed some of the others... I served with them for years. I had to wait for the right time to escape. I only made it here because the mechanic in Junkyard told me to head this direction. Without him, I'd probably still be wandering the Wastes."