It seems like most of the mines were activated by ants rushing to the queen, but you can, with a successful explosives roll per bomb, salvage
Mickey smiles as the carnage cranks up around him.
"That one's for the Kid."
***
***
Mickey takes some time to salvage some land mines.
"Might come in handy," he tells the others. He borrows some tools and gets to work.
; Success
; Success
; Fail
; Success
Spencer grins at Marcus. "Much as I'd love to patch you up, might be good to wait 'til we get outside. I could use a stim myself, and I think I've opened up the old bites again. It'll be tough to help you right now, honestly."
Spencer follows Mickey as he moves to disarm the mines, and about the time he clears the third one, he lifts his head. "Wait. You hear that?" He cocks his head to the side and blinks. "There's somebody up there." Moving quickly, he rushes forward, trying to find whoever's calling out. "Hey! Hey, it's okay! My name's Spencer, we're here to help. Where are you?"
Upon getting closer, you can hear clearly through cracks in the cave in to the north. "Um, yes, hi...this is Doctor David Phillips. I, uh...well I had come in a few days ago to try and help this town out. I figured some concentrated pheromones and ant nectar would keep me invisible to the ants combined with a stealthboy, and, I was planning on caving this hole in around the queen, but when I got to her she smelled through the disguise. I, ah, ended up having my way out blocked, so I set the mines I had with me to block the ants off, but it kind of trapped me here."
You're almost certain that with the queen dead, digging him out will be no issue for the townsfolk, now that you know he's there, before filling the hole.
Fitz claws out of his stupor once the Queen is dead, and gives a little yip of joy as well.
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"Ah, Dr. Phillips! We had assumed you'd been killed."
"Um, no, but, I am quite thirsty, hungry, and tired of the smell of the corner I've been using for waste. As well, I could really do with a change of clothes, and to be able to see some sunlight would probably help maintain my sanity, as I'm almost out of energy cells."
As soon as he finishes his victory ...dance, Rufus listens and heard Fitz chatting with the wall. "What in the samhell are ya doin' in there? Damnfool idea walkin' in here with pherognomes and sweetwater. Liketa jus' tell the ants ta eat 'cha and be dunwitit."
"Well, I figured where brute force had failed, the application of ingenuity and stealth might have prevailed. The lesser ants did ignore me until I made it to the queen. Someone had to do something - the factory is this town's livelihood."
"Now, now Rufus, it was a good plan. You can't honestly say any one of us alone would have fared well coming down here guns blazing."
"Now, does anyone have a shovel or pick?"
"Still damnfool..." Rufus mutters, then starts looking around for something to dig out the damnfool.
It takes a few hours of manpower for you all to dig Dr. Phillips out, but he seems ecstatic that you got him out. He is a short man, trim, with Nuka Cola bottle glasses that makes Fitz's look like contacts in comparison. He is also entirely human, and seems rather suprised that most of you are as well. "Oh, yes, thank you so much. Please, let's get back to the Sherriff's office and I can patch you all up as thanks, just as soon as I've eaten a good meal and had some water!"
The doctor is wearing a white labcoat over with a strange smiley face symbol (the followers of the apocalypse symbol) over...yep...that's a vault suit he has on underneath, with a number 80 on it.
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"Ah hells! Another g-damn Vaultdweller! Do you fools grow on trees down there?!?" Rufus throws his hands up in the air and grabs his girl, Mabel from the ground. "Drop a couple bombs and suddenly everybody's a damn Vaultie. But do I get in?!? Nope. I hope they done enjoyed that box of horsesh!t I sent 'em!" He chuckles for a moment then groans.
"Well, most of it was horsesh!t. I got a few plops in there, too. Never enjoyed fiber so much.. Good times."
"A fellow Vault Dweller, eh? Does Vault 80 have an over-population problem as well?"
"This? Oh, no I'm not from a vault. This suit was a gift from a prospector I patched up who couldn't afford the bill. Said he found a Vault out west of Kingdom, over where Gainesville used to be. It is quite comfy, I will admit. No, no, no, I'm from Kingdom, not a Vault, though I suppose that's as close as you can get, technologically speaking."
"Yes, quite snug. This armor almost doesn't chafe with my suit underneath. I've heard that's quite a problem."
"We've heard much talk about this 'Kingdom', but few details. Do they accept new residents?"
"Yeah, where is this 'Kingdom', eh?"
As you're walking back Dr. Phillips picks up some errant ant body chunks and starts munching. "God, I was so hungry in there. Anyway, well...Kingdom always welcomes visitors, if they don't cause problems and have caps to spend. I'm actually not from the city proper, but the Island of Nations. It's...kind of a town that sprung up around Kingdom itself. Palatka here does some trading there, as does the Brotherhood of Steel, the gangs of Tampa...well, except for chems and Slaves, since they aren't legal there. The Kingdom guards patrol the Island, too, and they'll look the other way for chems on the Island, but not slaves. Getting into Kingdom proper costs money. A day pass is 200 caps a person, but nowhere in the waste is safer, cleaner...they have all kinds of amenities, and between the guards and the robots, you can lay your head down like it was still pre-war. They don't often take new citizens, but I've heard of a few. There's supposed to be a few tests you have to take, and a large application fee that you lose even if you fail the test...but it lets you become a citizen which lets you live in Kingdom itself for life! I have been saving up to try the test myself, so I can easily buy medical supplies to take to other towns, but the fee is like ten thousand caps to apply."
He nods to Marcus. "I had considered sending a group to scavenge that vault for autodoc parts or other useful supplies, but settling it is a nice idea as well. I don't know if it has been. I don't tend to go west, as the people here in Palatka have been very friendly to me, even if I have to head back to kingdom to purge my system of radiation every week or so."
Rufus stops cold and suddenly begins laughing so hard he can't breathe. He's wheezing and gasping and slapping the ground and finally chokes out a voice. "Yer telling me you lived at WALT DISNEY WORLD?!? In the golddurned Magic Kingdom?!? Did they make ya wear funny costumes and worship th' Mouse?!?"
When you get back to the Sherriff's office, the doctor starts to give you all rad purges, drug addiction treatments, stimpak injections...The whole works. "The least I can do is give you guys this. I can't thank you enough for saving my life. If you're ever running into someone from the Followers of the Apocalypse, I wish there was a way to prove you helped me, so they could give you a discount in patching up, too..."
The Sherriff stands up from behind his desk and limps over. "I think I can help with that..." He opens his desk and pulls out a dusty, worn Pip-Boy 3000. "This was mine before I was dipped. Doesn't fit no more now that I am, well...what I am. Since you boys saved the doc, he can patch my limp, and since I already paid you what we had in advance, this should be a nice bonus." He holds out the device.
"Oh man! Can we go to Kingdom? Please, please, pretty please!"
Marcus starts to hop while begging to Fitz."Not before visiting Doc's clinic and the Vault, but pleaaaaaase!"
"Are you kidding? I couldn't BE more excited. This city sounds wonderful."
"Of course, we need to report to Jameson first."
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"A Pip-Boy! I've always wanted one. So many useful functions...but there weren't enough to go around in our Vault. How did you get to keep it?"
Rufus's guffaws don't stop until the Sherriff mentions he already paid. "Waitaminute! I didn't get a lick o' caps fer risking my neck! And what does a man need a 'Pimp-Boy' fer? It ain't gonna get me any more tail than I already got! I don't need no tail, I need caps!"
"Uh, everyone in our vault had one when they broke in and took us. Look...I don't wanna get into it. I don't like to think about those times."
He raises an eyebrow at Rufus.
Hey, that's right, there was four of you, not five, and that kid...oh...that poor boy."
He shakes his head. "Well, I paid these three, but I suppose I owe you somethin', though I gave em the caps I had." He limps over to a gun closet and opens it up, and pulls out a gloriously polished lever action gun, nods at the cowboy, and tosses it his way. "She's custom made. Scoped, and fitted to hold double the usual ammo capacity."
"And you, my friend, ain't you the one said he came here from Brotherhood looking for these folks? Yeah, it's a bit of a walk back there."
He tosses Marcus a set of keys.
"Paddy wagon is out back. She runs off an internal fusion core, so don't get her wet, or she'll...well, explode, but otherwise she's a fine ol van."
When you turn the PIP boy on it says 'Brotherhood - Neutral, Palatka - Liked, Followers - Accepted' along it's relationship status bar.
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"I... I don't know what to say, Sheriff. I'd hug you, but with those arms of you I might end with a broken rib again today. Thank you."
Marcus can't even act properly from the surprise. A good person in the Wasteland, and a mutie no less! I'll make sure that word of this reaches the appropiate people... we have much to learn from this
"Thank you, Sheriff. You've been more than fair with us. If you ever need help, and you can find us, we'll be glad to help."
Rufus catches the gun and nearly makes a puddle on the floor. He holds her for a moment, then in a voice full of adoration murmurs, [b"I will call you Allison, because you are a pretty, pretty princess, you is."[/b] He begins whispering sweet nothings to the gun and nods to the sheriff.
"Yeah, this makes up for the times you done thrown me in the drunk tank without a blanket."
Rufus catches the gun and nearly makes a puddle on the floor. He holds her for a moment, then in a voice full of adoration murmurs, [b"I will call you Allison, because you are a pretty, pretty princess, you is."[/b] He begins whispering sweet nothings to the gun and nods to the sheriff.
"Yeah, this makes up for the times you done thrown me in the drunk tank without a blanket."
"After you tried making love to the first two, I didn't want to waste the fabric..." He shakes his head and limps to the cell with the doc to let him work on his leg.
"That blanket was askin' fer it, looking all slinky like that!" He calls back to the Sheriff, still cradling the rifle.
"But don't pay no attention to that mean ol' man, baby. It's just you and me now. And Mabel. And Bessie. And you're jus' fine wit' that ain'tcha?"
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"My man Ruffus, you gotta chill with that libido. It will end frying your brain more than the rad did hahahahaha!"
He heartily laughs and then points Allison.
"And if any moment you need it, I can check her. She a pretty princess, you got it right. Well guys, if you've finished your bussiness here, how about I drive you back to the base? Jameson will be green of envy when I pimp the bad boy..."
"Who's that, baby? That crazy man's nobody, baby. He don' know nothin' 'bout nothin', baby."
The van is a drab olive green panel van, boxy and spacious, with the middle section containing seats separated from the front with some police barring. Faded paint still says "City of Palatka Police - K9 Unit", and there seems to be a dog cage crate built into the back. The upholstery is almost entirely duct tape it's been patched so much. The windshield is cracked, the back windows won't roll down, and the shocks seem nonexistent, but when you crank it, it starts instantly without a catch. The cup holder is big as hell, though, and of course a 72 ounce insulated Slurpee mug is there. There also seems to be a radio, and you hear the broadcasts of the races and fights out of Dome as soon as you turn it on.
The ride south is rather slow, as it doesn't seem to have any real power under the hood...almost as if it's straining...but it's a heck of a lot faster than walking, and as uncomfortable as the lack of shocks is, again, it beats walking.
As you pass Dome on the highway, you do remember they had a chop shop there that customizes vehicles for a price .
"Sounds good to me Marcus."
"A bit of armor might be in order more than anything. I believe we can defend ourselves fairly well with our hand-held weapons, but should a lucky shot strike the engine core..."
"Then ya'll might be as good lookin' as me." Rufus calls, keeping his eye on the road.
Spencer helps get the doctor out along with the others, working as hard as he can to free him. The mention of a possibly abandoned Vault out by Gainesville is intriguing, and he nods at Marcus's thoughts. Could certainly make for a safe community base, and if it isn't stripped too bare it probably has most of what we'd need already... Definitely a place to check.
Back in town, he gratefully accepts Doctor Phillips's treatment, and stretches in ways he hasn't been able to as Rufus and Marcus receive their payments from the Sheriff. He himself is happy with what the group's purchased and their finds in the factory, and he packs up into the new vehicle and makes ready to head out.
On the way, he looks to Mickey at one point and hands out the FN Fal, along with its extra ammo in a box. "Hey, Mick. Why don't you take this? It bucks a little wild for me, but I figure it suits your style pretty well. I'm better with something just a little bit lighter, you know?" He taps his shoulder and shrugs.
As they near Dome, Spencer scowls at his memory of the last interaction there, but he has to admit some upgrades might be in order. "Armor and tuning, then? How many caps do we have now?" He also glances at Rufus and the beginnings of a plan form in his mind.
You pull up into Dome and see more than a few people stop to look at you in the van, as vehicles are few in the waste, and when they do work, many of rhem end up here in Dome. You can still hear the wild sounds of the races going on, complete with explosions and gunfire, and you see a handful of garages in the area, but it appears most seem to be for sponsored racing teams.
Enough searching around eventually does find an independent garage, an their prices don't seem cheap, but they're not impossible.
As you stop in Dome, it occurs to Marcus that the Brotherhood will not be keen to see Rufus when you get back to Kennedy, should they happen to spot him in the van. Not at all keen...
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"The prices seem fair, but high. Dunno if we can even afford anything now, but now we know how much will cost to crank this beauty to eleven. A
He covers his mouth to subtle tell Fitz "And I've seen a few things that we can try with proper equipment hehe."
Marcus turns to the rest with a serious face on.
"I've thinking about how to spell this to you guys and still hadn't got around, so it goes raw: Ruffus gotta hide. I mean, I'm cool with ghouls and mutties that doesn't want me dead, but the 'Hood aint me. So unless you got something to fully disguise yourself as a human, you gotta lay low till we leave the base. I'm sorry Ruffus.
"I actually had a thought on making things easier on that end, if you gents don't mind me spending some of 'my share' of the caps?" Assuming the others don't stop him, Spencer wags his eyebrows and heads off with a small pouch of the currency to browse the booths.
He's looking for a girlie mag, if they have any. Vintage if possible, and as lewd as can be in any case; he's willing to spend only a handful of caps, but hopefully he can find something to make hiding in the van more palatable for the ghoul.
Spencer does his best not to think too much about that.
Given the prostitutes the crew ran into last time they were here, it is pretty easy to find the part of town to buy such an item. It's about 20 caps, and Spencer is solicited by at least three women and a couple men offering him the real thing for "only a few more than that."
Spencer can't help giving the solicitors a wry grin. "Oh, this ain't for me, it's a buddy of mine. You into sh*t-talking cowboys and rotting flesh?" He winks at them and walks off, regardless of their response, pocketing the mag.
On the way, he looks to Mickey at one point and hands out the FN Fal, along with its extra ammo in a box. "Hey, Mick. Why don't you take this? It bucks a little wild for me, but I figure it suits your style pretty well. I'm better with something just a little bit lighter, you know?" He taps his shoulder and shrugs.
"Well, if you're sure, Spence, I'd be happy to take it. But unless we can mod this puppy to make her semi-auto, I'm not going to be much better than you at it. But then, again, ain't no such thing as overkill, I guess."
You guys for the van up, and hit the road again south to Kennedy, and it isn't long before you hit the Brotherhood base again with the tents, and there's Jameson again at his post, though you don't see Mac anywhere around (though given he's a paladin any number of men in Power Armor could be him). Jameson greets you upon your exit and grins at Marcus. "Looks like you found them, Papa Bear! And hey, I guess Palatka sent you boys with this van to pick all the gear up, huh? Why don't you guys tell me what happened while I have a couple of Knights load the gear up in back and I'll get your pay...how much did I promise you again?"
Jameson starts to wave over a couple of Knights in recon armor over to open up the van...with the ghoul in it...
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"Jameson, my man! Let us pick the gear, there's no need for the boys to suffer for us hahahaha!"
Papa signals the rest to hurry the frak up and discharge everything and turns quickly to Jameson, extending his hand to shakes his.
" I'm glad to see you, sir. I almost didn't make it... when I arrived the situation was already heated. They know better than I, but I'll just say that ants ain't my favourite bug now." He takes the Ripper and show it to J, trying to distract him. "On the other hand this may be my favourite killing machine now. Look at it, is almost mint condition and with a few touches I think it will rip muties faster than you can spell "F@#@ing muties!". Whatcha think, boss?"
"Yes, it's quite all right men. We can load the boxes ourselves, you just busy yourselves with the job of bettering the wasteland, hm?"
Jameson raises an eyebrow. "But it's a couple hundred pounds, at you sure? Meh, whatever. Yeah, that's a heck of a toy. So, listen, since Marcus seems to have taken a shine to you all, I think I can upgrade your license to a B-Class, especially since you're finishing this delivery up. That means we can sell you anything short of power armor or the mega heavy duty weaponry like gauss rifles or anti-material rifles. While you're out an about, since you've proven yourself, you wouldn't want some work, would you? I think Mac had some job for you to do. He's over in the food tent. Help yourself, by the way, tonight is Bighorner Burgers with extra greasy sauce."