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The Past
In the year 4709 War came to Nirmathas. The hobgoblin horde that invaded the land was resisted by a group of brave heroes whose names have been lost to time. After all, who remembers heroes whose actions led to… this? And can they really be considered heroes after all? The Mana Wastes seem a quaint curiosity, the Worldwound a land of order compared to the disaster that befell what was once Nirmathas, Ustalav, Lastwall, and portions of the Hold of Belkzen. In this blasted wasteland produces nothing, nothing natural anyway.
Perhaps the greatest fall-out from “the Apocalypse” as the Bards now call it, was the destruction of the Wards that held Tar-Baphon in his prison. The Whispering Tyrants greatest foes’ were all but wiped out from the face of Golarion by the blast. Still, the Lich was in no rush to confront those who remained. Instead he gained strength in secret – the Orcs, the Hobgoblins whose dreams of Kingdom came crashing down on them, and of course the living dead the number of whom proliferated astronomically due to the devastation wrought by the Invasion.
From tragedy though there is also opportunity, many from Nidal, the Riverlands and even Cheliax began to descend on the Wastelands also known as “the Waste” to pick the corpse of the Nations that were. It was a group of these interlopers in 4720 that discovered the return of the Whispering Tyrant forcing his hand in what would one day be known as “the Waste War”.
The strength of Lastwall by this time had been slowly whittled down by the Whispering Way agents who manipulated the creatures known as the “Mutants” to expend the strength of the Clerics on these foes. Thus, the Counties of Ustalav that remained fell under assault by the forces of the Tyrant with little effective resistance. By day the Orcs and their Hobgoblin generals fought the armies of man. By night Vampires with powers heretofore unseen struck behind enemy lines. The Tyrant though would not settle on Ustalav alone this time, now he sought to conquer east to the Lake of Mists and Veils if not beyond.
Thus, did the Tyrant make a significant tactical error. By 4730 Ustalav was once again conquered and renamed by the rest of the surrounding lands the Terror. Once the denizens of the Terror pushed east, the people’s of Numeria and the Riverlands pushed back.
The burgeoning Kingdom of Freedom recognized the danger before the Tyrant began his eastward push through their spymaster Ursula who made a most unusual contact within the Terror itself. The Council of Freedom approached the city of Torch now long known for its famous forge fires. With the strength of Lastwall spent they argued, if the devices known as firearms could be produced on a massive scale, it may well turn the tide against the forces of the Tyrant, which Freedom argued were coming. The Council of Torch agreed but informed the leaders of Freedom that it would take a significant investment to create such a large number of forges and hire and train enough blacksmiths and gunsmiths to run it, an investment that the Technic League would not finance.
Karl Medyved assured the Council of Torch that it could be done. Councilor Medyved approached old King Noleski Surtova of Brevoy whom he had known since childhood and convinced both the King and the Brevoy Royalty of the seriousness of the danger, by bringing a traitor from the midst of the Whispering Tyrant with him! At this time, the name of the mole was not yet known. Resources in hand, the people of Torch began to increase the size and number of forges to craft guns and ammunition as well as the craftsmen to create even more wondrous firearms.
When the Whispering Tyrant’s forces came east, the Free peoples were ready for them. Though not as effective as the powers of the divine, the firearms still proved the measure of the evil forces due to their increased destructive capacity. Their range allowed for less casualties than traditional melee weapons and therefore less corpses for the Necromancers of the Way to turn against the forces of Light, well forces of the Gray. Moreover, the Androids were able to guard at night against the night raids of the Vampires in a way human sentries never could, especially with the spy network of Freedom providing intelligence prior to nearly every strike.
By 4740 the forces of the Tyrant were pushed fully into the Terror and the ranks of the Hobgoblins and Orcs mostly broken. This did not of course come without great loss of life and resources. Much of the youth of Freedom, Brevoy, the northern River Lands, and the residents of Torch were lost to the War. The Technic League and Kevoth Kul abstained from the War thus the power of Starfall was not with the “League of Nations” which had developed out of necessity.
Fighting through the Terror was agreed upon by the League and encouraged by the remnants of Ustalav to put an end to the Tyrant once and for all. The remnants of Lastwall’s divine heroes rose once more and it was their arrival at the Moot that swayed the vote to take the fight to Gallowspire. By 4752 the seminal moment of the battle came when arrayed on the field of battle around the Gallowspire, the forces of the League along with the leader of Lastwall’s remaining clerics and Paladins looked into the sky and saw a massive meteor hurtling towards them all!
Suddenly the meteor stopped in mid-air and there it remained and has remained ever since. The undead of the Gallowspire held as the Vampires who could not fight by day surged onto the battlefield now that the meteor blocked the effects of the hated sunlight and the League’s forces were broken. Since that day, the Terror and much of the eastern Waste has been turned over to the Tyrant and his former allies, the Council of Eternal Night.
According to the spy who history has revealed as Ilnerik Sivanshin, a former Legendary Pathfinder member of the Council of Thieves’ and former holder of a seat on the Eternal Council, the Tyrant was forced from his body in an effort to stop the meteor that was sent by the Council to destroy him. It seemed that the Council was determined to destroy the Tyrant and his forces along with his foes in one fell swoop! Ironically, in order to save himself and his fiefdom, the Lich saved many of his enemies as well.
Once the Tyrant stopped the meteor, Ilnerik in a letter to the League, claims that he slew the wizard who had the knowledge of the magic of the Starfall and took that knowledge with him into wherever he is currently hiding as the Council of Eternal Night has placed a bounty of one million gold upon his head for his betrayal.
Thus, the War of the Waste ended in a stalemate. Tar-Baphon was once more trapped utilizing his magic to prevent yet another Armageddon and the League was forced to quit the Terror as the Land of Eternal Night was simply too dangerous for the living to enter on a sustained basis.
The Council of Eternal Night both won and lost. It gained a fiefdom that until the suspended starfall is dealt with cannot be invaded but it has also lost the advantage that it had for millennia, the secret of its existence. Of course, dealing with the Starfall will once more release the Whispering Tyrant from his self-imposed prison so none are in a rush to do so…
Present Day
As a result of the War, the proliferation of Firearms within the area of the Riverlands has increased exponentially. Duels are fought with pistols and even the poorest of families own a few antique firearms for home defense. Kingdoms such as Andoran, Taldor, Cheliax, and Osirian have turned their eyes toward increased trade and perhaps conquest considering the weakened state and the technological leaps that the area has made vis a vis the rest of Golarion. Of course, the existence of the Wastelands and the Terror give even Cheliax pause to commit to attempting to control such a dangerous place.
Despite the success of the League in the War, the failure by the Technic League and Kevoth Kul to ratify the League formally forced Torch to withdraw. Without Numeria, the realms of the Riverlands refused to be bound by the original League agreement. Torch has been ordered to shut down extra forges by the Technic League who seems reluctant to send their own representative there to oversee their closure. Thus they still fire new weapons but with a much smaller market to sell them to.
Brevoy now having lost direct access to the forges of Torch blamed the Council of Freedom and for the past seven years the two Kingdoms have had no diplomatic relations.
Freedom and Numeria are also at odds due to the “annexation” of sections of Numeria by Freedom during the Waste War. Freedom claims the land was granted to it while Numeria has threatened to invade countess times over the past half-decade.
Freedom’s Council has gotten old, it heroes of yesteryear now old men and women, advisors more than adventurers. Potentially besieged on all sides the Kingdom has pulled back in on itself and refuses to aid any other realms after the massive losses they sustained in the Waste War.
The River Kingdoms have seen an increase in the theft of goods that transit between Kingdoms, especially where it is believed the cargo is firearms, something that rarely happened in the past.
With the Waste War in the past, the remnants of Lastwall have now begun to address the threats of the Waste near Vellumis, the small strip of land of Lastwall that is still habitable by those who do not wish to live a harsh life in the Waste.
Miraculously, cities, especially the traditionally largest cities in the lands destroyed, have become inhabited by those who are desperate or somehow see opportunity in the Waste. New towns such as Desert’s End and the Last Stop cater to adventurers, treasure seekers and the mad providing supplies to those who brave the Wastelands, and making a fortune in the process.
Caliphas and Versex are all that remain of Ustalav. The people of these lands guard the border with firearms and are disappointed in the Leagues’ failure to defeat the Whispering Tyrant yet again. The people are even more dour and unwelcoming than they have been in the past.
Northern Ustalav has been absorbed by the Orcs of Belkzen on one side and the former Hobgoblins of the Fangwoods who inhabit the Shudderwood on the other. Skirmishes along these borders are common without the presence of the Whispering Tyrant to keep such bad blood in check. The only city under human control is Lepidstadt where the University is once more open. A Wizard who served Tar-Baphon has opened it to any who are willing to learn though the price of tuition may be steep indeed to study in a city where a Necromancer reigns supreme.
The Magnificent Seven
The M7 have just completed their first mission “together” in the Wastelands. After wandering individually in the ruins of old nations facing dangers from Orcs, Hobgoblins, Outlaws, Prospectors, the Undead and Mutants, the 7 all congregated, separately, at a site where an excavation was taking place not far from the Last Stop. Each was there for their own reasons.
The Technic League was behind the excavation though only a minor Wizard and a group of mercenaries were located at the site at the moment. , recognizing the Acolyte for what he was rushed to the attack which embroiled everyone present in the combat. The M7 firepower outmatched that of the mercenaries who utilized traditional melee and ranged weapons. The Acolyte, Kharzess, was taken prisoner. recognized the name as a figure that was Wanted in the Last Stop and would be worth a reward.
sees in this group the potential for a strong bond and strong allies. Haltingly of course due to her experiences during the war. Alexandr and Erissa were both surprised to see one another having had limited interactions with each during the Waste War.
who ended at the site due to a lead that told her undead were spontaneously being generated from the site realized that this lead was a bad one, no undead were located here. However, the adventurer’s assembled before her wielded firearms and she saw in them a group of kindred spirits.
recognized this woman as one of the criminals behind the theft of shipments he had been seeking to track down. After being pressed by Joe and his dangerous arm, she revealed that the guns had been dropped into the sea! It seems the Technic League prefers only themselves as the people with access to “technology”. Of course, Joseph has gained this information with the blood of his Riverlands Friends, the deaths of all such men were related to the activities of this woman and her organization, knowingly or not. He hopes that justice for her will end as it generally does in the Waste, at the end of a rope.
managed to be the odd man out, again. Such is the life of a half-elf. However, with so many Gunslingers assembled in one place and seemingly with cause for unity this could be the money making opportunity that Mr. Mash has been seeing since the Armageddon ravaged his family fortunes.
The Acolyte of the Technic League revealed that he was here following a divination from his Masters as this location was rumored to be a wizard’s tower which housed a Wizard who had been working on magics’ that could resist the deadliness of firearms, of course the research was old, pre-Armageddon. It seems that the Technic League is concerned about the proliferation of firearms recently and has been seeking ways to make themselves immune to or at least partially impervious to, the deadly weapons that their southern-most city has been forging despite the edict not to.
This is not the first spot where the Tower was rumored to be and on locations where residents had taken up to try and cleanse the area the Acolyte and her Mercenaries did not hesitate to slay such “problems”. The blood on her hands is why she is wanted in the Last Stop.
The entire group felt the horror of the deaths that this Kharzess has caused in this quest for power and the group discusses whether to take her back to the Last Stop to meet with their Justice or whether to mete out frontier Justice all on their own...
As the last of the mercenaries fall down, never to get back up again, Alexandr pulls a cigarette out of one of the pockets in his shirt. Striking a match against the sole of his boot he lights the cigarette. He lowers his bandana from around his mouth and sticks the cigarette between his teeth, taking a long drag.
even after all these years I still cannot fathom why smoking these things makes me feel calm after a battle?
Gazing over at where some of the others were speaking with their captive, Alexandr felt his veins flood with a hot warmth that he thought might be anger or possibly hatred.
Walking towards Kharzeess he throw his cigarette down on the ground and came to a stop before her. With the smallest of smiles on his face he asked her.
Tell me League scum, how does it feel to be the helpless one for once?''
Leaning in close in the hopes they others would not hear he whispered to her.
It would serve my kind right if we put a bullet in your head right here and now.'' Raising his voice and stepping back from her he said I believe we would be best served by returning this woman to the proper authorities so they might stretch her neck for us. What say you?
He looks the other six in the eye as he asks the question, addressing them each in turn.
"Pardon my asking," says the tall red-haired woman, "but do you happen to know if the reward specifies Kharzess must be taken in alive?" She walks over and appraises the prisoner. "No need to waste a bullet if it isn't necessary, but better one now than ten later if she tries to escape." She sighs. "Not what I was looking for, but if there's a payout to be had, who am I to turn it down?"
"Any opinions on what's to be done with this one?" asks the tall red-head. "I'm of the opinion that people ought to lie in the bed they made. Seems like hers may be a VERY messy one."
She walks around a bit, seemingly interested in the excavations, trying to figure out what was going on here.
Joseph is pissed, well more like annoyed as it seems the self evident crease lines on his boyish face rarely form in those particular spots.
Hey! Lemme talk to her a moment, only take a sec. Say sis, are you seriously telling me you dumped my shipment of BonkerTech into the SEA?!? Then you tell me that the reason you did was because you thought that destroying the already finished and paid for merchandise would somehow prevent me from making more???
Honey... Honey I just started reforging a new set the next morning...
You know, if you ever get out of jail you might want to think about finding a new boss. Yours... runs on a low wattage.
Joseph walks away a bit, chuckling to himself at the stupidity. Then he turns around and asks the two androids; Oi! Ummmm.... You Drat... forgot their names again... I just needed to stop her, so my jobs done. What do you plan on doing with her?
He then looks around at the rest of the group.
Erissa sits quietly atop her steed, its tattoos and her own shimmering in the sunlight. Breaking open the butt of her pepperbox rifle, she calmly reloads it with fresh cartridges. Satisfied, she closes it again.
"Pharasma's Kiss claimed four more today. I will have to remember to mark her accordingly tonight." Caressing the rifle with surprising care, she levels it at the ground a mere inch away from their captive.
"Been a while since I had contact with the any from the League. Not really since I left Torch, given only a handful of folks from that way came down here to fight, and they had effectively gone AWOL to do so. Overabundance of conscience, or so they said. I know where most are buried, if you have a friend you would want to rest next to." There is nothing malicious in the way she says this, though it is also clearly not meant to be a joke either.
"My vote would be to get what knowledge we can from her prior to shooting her. Decapitating the corpse would probably be a good idea as well afterwards, some members of the League have the ability to revive from rather serious injuries that would kill regular folk."
Verra continues to wander around the site, stopping to pick up a few odd tools and pieces of machinery. A flash of teeth and a hint of a giggle escapes her lips at the mention of decapitation. She coughs to cover it up.
"Fair enough. Alive works for me. The town can see its own justice done."
Seeing Mira tend to the dead, Verra sighs and seems a bit unsure of herself. She sheathes her revolver, mutters something, and nods as though some internal argument has been settled. She helps drag some of the bodies together. She pokes around some of the corpses, scrounging what useful bits she can find. Waste not, want not she murmurs to herself.
She turns to Mira when they've finished. "If you don't find it too disrespectful, I may have a few oils that would help the bodies burn. I prefer the dead stay that way."
When Erissa raises her rifle, Alexandr moves to stand between her and Kharzess. Raising his hands non-threateningly he addresses her.
''If memory serves you are Erissa correct? You served as a scout in the wars? I cannot allow you to kill her this way. This woman deserves much more then a quick bullet to the brain. Let the town deal with her, surely some of the townsfolk are family or friends of her victims, they deserve the chance to look her in the eyes as she is sentenced.''
He lowers his arms and crosses them over his chest.
Besides I want a chance to see the light leave her eyes.
He thinks to himself, despite knowing the thought is beneath him, He can't help his hate of the technic league.
Erissa raises an eyebrow at Alexandr as he steps in front of her.
"Scout and soldier. Information can be as powerful as a bullet, if used properly. Information like you used to be a gunsmith of some repute back during the war. I would wager that you might have made some of the parts I used to bring Pharasma's Kiss up to standards." Patting the rifle, she looks past him at their prisoner.
"She deserves death. The manner is irrelevant. Her victims will not be brought back from the dead by their families seeing her eyes one last time, so what they wish is almost pointless."
Starfall whinnies and shifts beneath her, provoking Erissa to stroke the creature's mane with the hand not holding the butt of her rifle.
"As I said, I merely want what information she has. My... sister... in Torch... might need to be informed about the League's sudden interest in firearms research. If she has any cranial implants I will take them from her corpse as well. I would rather that be sooner than later, but if the lot of you want to drag her living to face the town I can wait. Well, wait a period within reason, that is."
Scratching her horse under its ears, she lowers the rifle fully, though it is still in her hand.
Ozymandias hasn't made a sound since the fighting stopped. He only stands quietly, his cloak billowing around his metal body as the wind swept over the scene. He doesn't much listen to anyone else talking, just stands at looks at the captured Technic League member. The large orange 'eye' on his face contracts and focuses in, and he crouches over the woman while the others discuss her fate. His hand rests on the revolver secured beneath his cloak and he draws it again from its holster slowly. He crouches there, the gun only visible to the woman he was about to kill. He sits like that for a while, before he breaks his gaze and stands, the revolver back in its holster for now.
"The citizens of Torch will see justice done. It is their right."
Josephs ears perk up at the sound of the word "Gunsmith" and he moves a little closer towards the two androids before speaking up.
Did I hear tell you saying something about being a gunsmith? I'd love the chance to swap ideas with another of the same profession! Joseph eyes Erissa's rifle, the reason for him being here now forgotten. Here, let me see :P Joseph screws up his face in concentration, his tongue sticking out.
right before your very eyes you watch as Joseph manipulates his artifical left arm by twisting bits and pulling others, the forearm elongating into a rifle barrel, a block extending from the elbow to create a magazine case (which autofills as you watch) and designs snake their way up and down the barrel until there is an almost complete replica of your pepperbox attached to Josephs left elbow...
I see. So thats how you designed the firing mechanism. I'll have to remember that for the future. Course I couldn't see the inner workings of the firearm, so thats mostly generic, but waddya think?
Joseph raises the pepperbox to eye level and takes a pot shot at a nearby wall (Erissa would immedeately reconize it makes a different sound).
Alexandr nods at Erissa's response, stepping aside and lowering his arms back to his side.
''Your terms are satisfactory to me, I don't much care for what is inside her head as long as she is dead when you take them.''
He removes his rifle from his shoulder and digs a cartridge out a pouch hanging at his waist. Inserting the cartridge into the rifle, he slides the bolt back and forwards to load the cartridge into the chamber and returns his rifle back to his shoulder.
When the human approaches and asks about gunsmithing, Alexandr waves his hand to indicate that it is he.
''Yes I am a gunsmith of some skill.'' He jostles his shoulder to indicate his rifle and has his hand on his revolver to draw attention to it. ''I built and customized my rifle myself and I make all the necessary maintenance on both my rifle and revolver.''
His eyes widen in disbelief when he sees Joseph's arm transform.
what I would do for an arm like that.
If you will tell me a little about how you acquired such a fabulous arm I will be happy to talk guns and repairs with you.''[/b]
He holds out his hand with his fist clenched.
''I am Alexandr, pleased to meet you.''
He thinks for a moment Wait, is it hand clenched or unclenched? No I think its supposed to be unclenched
He then un-balls his fist, extending his hand in a handshake.
''Pardon, I was not very well taught in social customs.''
The enthusiasm from the tall woman almost radiates palpably out of her.
"Now THAT is something you don't see every day!"
She rolls her eyes a bit. "Yes, I suppose he DOES see it since it's his arm," she mutters sotto voce.
"Name's Verra. Nice to meet y'all. Now then, how does your arm... do what you did?"
She utters a barrage of questions before she holds up a hand.
"Wait. Don't tell me yet... I wanna work some of it out. In the meantime," she moves over to the robot.
"You are magnificent. Are you autonomous? Are you one of the gearsmen? Hmm, and would the singular be 'gearman'?"
Erissa shakes her head. "I have some knowledge of the profession, but mostly from necessity. Often I was out in the Wastes alone, no chance for repairs." She stops as she watches his arm form into a facsimile of her own rifle.
"Impressive, but slightly wrong. Likely from where your arm meets your body, but the internals are designed to eject the spent cartridges as I break open the rifle. Makes reloading a bit easier on horseback, took the inspiration from a revolver I saw in the field."
Slowly breaking open the rifle, she catches the cartridges in her hand before showing both Alexandr and Bonkers the springs within.
"I still have to manually reload each barrel though. Probably would be easier if I could find a way to have multiple chambers that cycle through the same barrel, instead of four independent barrels. Though this way does make it harder to jam."
Reloading the rifle with practiced ease, she snaps the gun shut again once done.
Sure. Joseph offers up. But I doubt the knowledge would do you much good. Ya'see I designed and built this thing myself. Had an accident when I was younger an lost my arm for it. At first, I just made a basic prosthesis but over the years I redesigned and modified it in my spare time. Got pretty good at it too. He adds as an afterthought.
Then he looks shrewdly up at Alexandr The real question is how do you run it? Battery pack is too bulky, and an Wand-Energy runs out too quickly. And expensive.
He extends his right hand and shakes with it. (His left is still shaped like a gun)
Slightly embarrassed by all the sudden attention, but enjoying it anyways, Joseph turns to Verra Hia. Ya, well the trick is how to make it versatile enough. Its easy to make something transform into 2 or 3 shapes, but the real trick is designing something versatile enough to transform into many parts, and even then its often too bulky to be functional.
Ya'see I figured out an Iron alloy that is normally quite malleable, almost putty like, but when you run a magic current through it, it becomes rigid, like Iron. This allows me to morph it into just about any shape I need! But it does have its drawbacks... It runs off of a constant stream of my lifeforce and that's draining. Took me years to be able to produce a constant enough flow to run the darn thing.
The other problem is that it is functionally useless in anyone else's hands as a result.
He then continues to excitedly "talk shop" with the others about the different firearms and components inside them, or different alloys used to make them, and comparing his imitation gun with Erissa's real one. At some point in the conversation he adds in an Oh, by the way, Im Joseph! and You heard of BonkerTech? Ya that's the stuff we make.
A bit later, he looks uncomfortable for a minute, as if deciding on whether he should say something or not.
After a moment he seems to have made up his mind and blurts out (indicating in the direction of Ozymandias) That... Thing. I've worked with machines all my life, and that... Aint human. Don't even think its alive in the normal sense. What is it?
Glancing back at Alex and Erissa, You too. There's something... Metalic about you two. Implants? Is that it?
Joseph seems to be asking tentatively, almost as if he is afraid to pry or overstep his kindness by asking.
Tearing herself away from studying the robot, she heads over to her horse and rummages through her saddle a bit. She pulls out a few vials and a handful of horse feed. She soaks some of the straw and then lays bits of it on and around the corpses. She opens a second vial and sprinkles a bit over each body. She then liberally pours from a third vial and stores away each vial in a pocket or on her bandolier. A strong smell like lamp oil or kerosene begins to float from where she's working.
"These accelerants will help 'em burn pretty thorough. Can't say that someone who's truly dedicated can't magically reconstruct 'em, but at least they'll have to work for it."
Once she's satisfied with the distribution of flammables, she pulls a piece of flint from her pocket. Oh, pipe down, she murmurs to no one in particular.
"Not really a religious type myself, but if anyone wants to say words, now's the time."
"I am not a gearsman." Ozymandias doesn't expand at all on Verra's question of his nature, and a short, rhythmic pattern of beeps can be heard from the robot before he answers Joseph. "My name is Ozymandias. I once served my master, who unearthed me from ruins deep beneath the surface of Numeria. I do not remember what I did before that. Does that satisfy your inquiries?" It's hard to tell, but the robot sounds irritated. From his glances down to the Technic League member on the ground, however, it's possible the questions aren't the only thing weighing on him. When Verra mentions saying a prayer for the man, Ozymandias just shrugs beneath his cloak.
"Why bother? They worked for the Technic League. They have gotten what they deserved."
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The little tumor climbed his way to the top of Johnny's shoulder polishing a bullet like it might be a glass in a saloon and another. It surveyed the group of desperados and miscreants that Johnny had allied himself with and shrugged its diminutive shoulders as if to say beggars ain't choosers . Meanwhile the hat laid low over his eyes a bandolier if bombs and chemical admixtures, pouches and bags swinging in the breeze, Johnny flicked a tooth pick in his mouth a bit and looked at the assembled crowd and said I am here for the coin. Kill her if its worth more to do it or keep her alive for more. Just figure it out, fer gods sake.
Erissa shrugs at the question, and nods at Ozymandias' response.
"It does not matter what race someone is, in my experience. Rather it matters more what their capabilities and intentions are." Sighing, she strokes her horse's mane thoughtfully a moment before continuing.
"I, much like Starfall here, am a synthetic recreation of life from the standpoint of most folks. For some reason, to some that means we are somehow less alive. In my experience, it means we just bleed a little differently. Now, if we are done asking questions about relatively meaningless topics, I believe we have corpses to burn."
Looking at the bodies, she inclines her head. "May the Lady of Graves ensure they receive their proper due, and may their ultimate punishment be befitting their crimes."
"Good enough." Verra strikes a spark off onto the makeshift funeral bier. The chemicals quickly ignite, spread, and flare to white hot. I did not use too much phosphorus. I used just what was needed. The heat is remarkably intense and a thick black smoke pours off the bodies.
She reaches into a saddle bag and grabs a piece of jerkey to gnaw on. "Well now, how far off is this town, Mira? I'm ready for a decent meal."
Seeing the manacles produced, Erissa smiles coldly.
"Try to escape and Pharasma's Kiss here will be happy to perform its function by ending your life. She loves it when I get to add tally marks to her barrels." She pats the gun lovingly, indicating the somewhat long line of marks on each barrel.
"But don't worry. If you do choose that route, I will thoroughly dissect your corpse for hidden augments prior to allowing the kiss of fire to consume it. No sense in letting such boons go to waste, eh?"
The Waste - An Excavation Site
A cursory glance at the dig site reveals that the mercenaries did not get very far in their endeavor. If there was anything to find here, your arrival prevented it from happening.
In all, the M7 recover a fair amount of loot, eleven horses (11), ten (10) sets of masterwork leather armor (wearing anything heavier in the Wastelands can dry you out something fierce!), ten longswords (10) with the Technic League makers mark upon them, ten shortbows (10) with each mercenary having less than 10 arrows a piece (87 total) it seems they liked to do their killing ranged as well, an assortment of clothes and boots, twenty-two (22) water canteens, and a total of 300 GP, 650 SP, and 77 CP gathered from all of the mercenaries.
In addition, the excavation gear includes twenty-five (25) shovels, picks, and three (3) wheelbarrows for moving the dirt. Also some wood and nails and iron rods likely to be used to prop up the entrance they were looking to create.
The Acolyte possessed, one Ring that is clearly magical, vestments of the Technocratic League also magical, and four potions, likely magical along with her other mundane gear.
Acolyte Kharzess remains silent after revealing the information that was initially plied out from her. She once again speaks, "It will be more efficient if I am also allowed a horse. With the racket that all of your guns created, no doubt something in this place will come to investigate...
The town of Last Stop is two days travel from here on horseback, if we started earlier today, at least five or six if I am walking. There is enough water for four days without stopping to dig for more. Ultimately, travel plans are up to you of course".
"You get no horse, acolyte. The people of Torch will not see justice if I'm forced to blow your head off when you attempt to flee." He hauls the acolyte to her feet with his spare hand, keeping his claws extended. He keeps a firm grip as he hauls himself up onto the horse and pulls her up after him. He holsters his revolver as he settles himself in; one hand holding the reins, the other gripped gently around the acolyte's shoulder and neck. "You're lucky that you would die if we dragged you hogtied back to town, or you would not have even this." He flexes the claws on his hand again. "You will try nothing, or else you'll wish you hadn't."
"Let's get going." Ozymandias settles the horse and trots it around a bit, making sure the beast can bear their combined weight. "We ought to make it as far as we can before nightfall."
Removing a short length of rope from his robes, Alexandr ties it to the bridle of one of the horses. He attaches the other end to the saddle horn of the horse he intends to ride.
Mounting ''his'' horse he kicks it lightly with his heels to get it moving. Clutching the reins in one hand, with his other loosely holding the rope attached to the 2nd horse he trots up towards Ozymandias.
He turns to the rest of the band as he rides past them.
''If at all possible we should try and get all the horses and bring them with us. They will either fetch us a good amount of coin and if nothing else best we don't leave them to whatever beasts might be found in this Gods forsaken land.''
Coming up alongside Ozymandias, he clears his throat to get the other Android's attention.
''Her hands are bound and we are all mounted, there are plenty of horses to spare. I see no reason to burden a horse with two riders when it is not necessary. She is not going anywhere and if she tries anything, we can simply run her down.''
His piece said, he lapses into a contemplative silence.
Uhh, the idea of speaking up for that league scum is painful. Still it seems foolish to burden a horse with two riders for no reason. This feeling is new, perhaps it is irritation? I must remember to jot it down later.
Producing another sash from the many holding his clothing together, Alexandr holds it out for Ozymandias to grab.
''Here, this will function as a rope if you change your mind. You can tie her horse to yours if it makes you less uneasy about the whole thing. Oh I am Alexandr by the way.''
"If we let her, she will run. If she runs, we'll likely have to shoot either her or her horse in order to capture her again. I would rather not shoot the horse--it hasn't done anything, and it's worth a fair bit of money--but more importantly those she has subjugated deserve to witness her demise." Still, he takes the sash and puts it in one of the saddlebags, before moving over to the other scattered equipment. "We ought to load the spare horses with supplies, make it easier for transport." He turns the acolyte's head to look him in his one massive orange eye. He ties the sash around her already bound hands and lifts her off the horse. "Start packing."
"Perhaps if you are compliant, tomorrow you can ride your own horse."
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Johnny gathers up all the horses and uses the saddle bags to weigh down the coupme of spare horses with the loot and equipment since it to can be sold, and then he distributes the water between the living giving one to the prisoner that has enough for a days ride. Johnny will attempt to identify the potions. he will then announce what they are and saddle up to head to town without another word.
Erissa shakes her head.
"Sorry, I need to be able to maneuver if something wicked from the wastes pays us a visit on our way to Last Stop. Escorting an additional horse would make me less so, and would merely encourage the horse to flee upon my cutting it loose in that scenario."
Checking the action of her gun and giving Starfall a few reassuring scratches behind its ears, the android turns to Ozymandias.
"There is a solution to that. Tie her horse to yours, and tie a noose from her neck to your saddle. If she tries anything, one quick pull and she will be praying that her neck snaps."
Erissa glares at the man. "Would you prefer I just shoot my 'share' in their heads now? I won't take less shares for equal parts work guarding at night, and as I said I would just lose it if we get ambushed. Better for a groundling like you to ride with them on the way then me, and for me to watch additional ones at camp tonight, then risk its forfeiture to the wilds."
A quick, practiced motion brings the hammer back on her rifle and aims it at the first of the two horses that by rights would have been her share.
"But if not, I have no qualms leaving them to rot here instead."
Alexandr shakes his head at Erissa's display of wastefulness.
''Some people have all the manners and charm of a dead goblin'' He mutters to himself.
Turning to the robot riding with their captive, he shakes his head.
''Im not convinced she really will run. Her hands are bound which will make controlling the horse and casting hard as it is. we are all armed with ranged weapons and her horse will not run any faster than hers. In addition at least three out of seven of us have already expressed a desire to see her dead. I find it unlikely that she will try to escape under present conditions.''
He turn to look into Kharzess' eyes as he is speaking, trying to gauge whether or not his words have had any impact on her and if she is thinking of escape.
''Besides, if she does try to run, we'll simply ride her down and pump her full of metal.''
Erissa lowers the hammer gently, lowering her rifle.
"Right. We should be able to get there in three days if we don't push ourselves."
Turning Starfall toward the entrance to the outpost, avoiding the flames of the slain, the android takes the first position of the fledgling loot caravan.
"Likely going to attract something in between here and there. Even if it was just us seven riding alone."
"Hmm, I may have to come back here some time. Seems I might find some interesting stuff with a little digging."
Verra helps load up the horses, offering to lead a few. No since letting a good critter go to waste, or tools for that matter.
She rides next to OZ whenever possible, occasionally breaking down and barraging him with questions about his physical framework or how his consciousness resides within him. She has already started copious notes and engineering sketches.
"That is precisely what I wish to avoid. I do not want to gun her down, not out here in the Wastes. The people she has wronged will see justice done. Those who have died by the machinations of her and others of her ilk will receive retribution, no matter how small." Once all the gear is loaded onto the spare horses, Ozymandias hauls her back up onto the horse again in the same position as before. "I will not take the chance that she tries to flee, and that I will only have a c-c-c-corpse to show those who deserve to watch her die." As the robot's voice takes on a harsher tone, his speech starts to skip intermittently. He just shakes his head and trots the horse around while the others prepare to leave.
On the way back, he gives Verra little more than general statements and half-answers. On some occasions it seems he simply doesn't want to talk about it, but more often than not his non-committal answers seem to stem from a lack of his own understanding. While he entertains her for a while, eventually the robot clams up and refuses to speak anymore. At that point, he withdraws to the back of the line to watch their rear.
Joseph busies himself with dealing with the loot and distributing it evenly among the horses and prepping them for the journey.
Think we will hafta leave the wheelbarrows behind. No real way ta take them with us.
An you dont mind much if I take these iron rods for myself, do ya? Joseph didn't expect too much resistance on the matter, chances were that the raw iron was one of the least valuable of the resourses there, buuut... It was the fuel that his arm ran off of.
Once the group started bickering, even to the point of raising arms, Joseph tried to intervine
Woa woa woa! Hey! Why don't we just box her in? Have 1 person on each side of her riding horses and have 2 horses right in front so she cant go nowhere. Then have the rest of the group circle round the herd freely. That way you can easily react to any danger.
An, ummm. I'll probably be one of the flankers. Cant ride very well so being stuck in the center suits me jus' fine.
Oh! And I can create more restraints! Keep the Missus and the herd together.
And with that, Joseph reshapes his arm into a pair of extra-large crimpers, and then begins to bend the iron rods into the shape of a gigantic set of chains. He even transforms into a set of sheet metal cutters and starts to strip a wheelbarrow down and uses the metal to make fastenings for the horses.
The Waste -
Acolyte Kharzess says nothing further as she is allowed to ride and not walk and allows the 7 to bind her in any way they see fit with zero resistance.
The group with their entourage of riderless horses head towards the Last Stop.
Soon enough darkness begins to fall and the temperature begins to drop. Riding in the Waste is deadly by day but it is murder by night. Acolyte Kharzess finally speaks, "We should find a place to rest before there is no light at all by which to set camp".
I don't like this. That witch is far too calm for someone riding to their death, surrounded by people who want her dead. She's either doesn't care about dying or she's confident she isn't going to make it to town.
He rides close to Ozymandias in order to keep a close eye on their prisoner.
He does his best to keep his rider horse in check but is not good with animals and has great difficulty handling two beasts at once.
Not willing to risk losing control of the second horse, he keeps his dagger close at hand in case he needs to cut the rope connecting him to his riderless horse.
He glares at Kharzess when she speaks up. He feels white, hot something, probably anger, flowing through him at the sound of her voice.
''Be silent mage, more of us see fine in the dark than not. Your words are not needed nor wanted!''
Looking back to his companions he scratches his cheek thoughtfully.
Still she might be onto something, even if most of us do see well at night, it couldn't hurt to have a littler fire.
''What say the rest of you? Do we stop now or risk going further before we stop?''
Despite her earlier protests, Erissa rides back and helps Alex to get the horses calm.
"She is right, even this close to the border of the wastes can be especially dangerous at night. If we weren't burdened by treasures I would still advise stopping and taking guard. As is, it would be illogical to continue."
"The rest of you will need to sleep," Ozymandias says, nonchalantly. "I can travel f-f-f-f-further if necessary, assuming the rest of you are not growing tired. However, if you need rest, we may make camp here. I can keep watch." Ozymandias's voice begins to cut out again, another sign of his otherwise nearly unnoticeable agitation. He begins to slow his horse, preparing to stop for the night if the others desire to as well.
"I offer because I do not need to sleep, it isn't a b-b-burden on me." Ozymandias shrugs his massive frame under his cloak, his grip around the neck of the Acolyte never faltering. "I am designed as a sentinel, to watch and... defend. Fulfilling my primary functionalities is of little negative consequence. You may stay up yourselves if you wish, but I do not need to be relieved at any point." A low-pitched whine emits from his speakers, and afterward the robot remains quiet.
"I need little sleep myself, but sleep is not the reason I would recommend resting the night. Horrors stalk these lands, remnants of the war." A frown crosses Erissa's face as she adds, "From both sides of the conflict, truthfully. Not everyone on our side wanted to come home, and the survivors on the enemy side truthfully had little home to return to."
Hoping down out of her saddle, she begins pulling items she will use from her saddle bags and the back of her pack.
"I would recommend that two be up with our sleepless friend at all times. With six of us needing sleep, that should leave three watches. I volunteer to take the middle watch with someone, as my eyesight is decent in the dark."
Joseph raises a metal hand, I cant see squat in the dark. Just letting you know He seems to be a little unnerved by the thought.
Instead, I can keep an eye on our friend here easy enough but someone else should be out watching our surroundings during my shift.
Joseph then seems to get an idea, turning to Kharzess, he reshapes his arm once more, this time into a set of handcuffs and clasps one onto her arm (the other end is merged into his arm, and firmly attached to his shoulder).
There. She ain't going anywhere without me at least knowing about it. I'll rest first, then take the last watch with the dawn. I got the best chances of being able to see then.
He then busies himself with setting up camp for himself and the others, he attempts to find a small alcove, or some rocks, or at least a depression in the ground with which he can shelter the horses even a little bit. He also aims to have the horses surround their camp, creating a wall of meat and potential cover if it comes to such a confrontation. Then he uses the extra weapons and shovels in an unusual way, fastening them together with some of the extra metal into a bit of a framework around the actual campsite itself. Then he throws a tarp around it to create a makeshift tent to keep out the wind.
While he was working, Joseph had ample opportunity to talk to some of the other members of his odd group and he struck up casual conversation with them.
Hia. How are you? Me, I'm from Torch. I'm a smith down there an we forge all sorts of things from metal. And you, I'm pretty sure you are an android. I've seen one come through Torch before and some of the old Masters talk about your type.
He thinks a moment more, And I'm pretty sure you run on logic?