Old Orleans, New Trouble: A Fallout Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master SinBlade06

Watching his party take apart the crabmen, Logan waits in the wings to give aide the moment it should become necessary.

Lilith takes a shot with her sawn-off shotgun as well.

To Hit: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Damage: 2d12 ⇒ (12, 7) = 19

Health: 30 - 5 - 10 = 15

"Take that ya overgrown lobster!" Yes, she knows it came from a crab. Yes, she knows it doesn't understand her. No, she doesn't care.

"And now you die, crab-face!"

With deliberate aim, Edward rams his combat knife into the critters face-hole as hard as he can.

Called Shot to Face, using Power Attack

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7 attack 1d4 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10 damage

The Mirelurk is shot and stabbed but keeps on kicking. Edward's knife misses, glancing off and hitting the shell to no avail.

Mirelurk 1 starts backing up. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...

Mirelurk 2 is just about dead anyway, so in a fit of rage it attempts to flee, unknowingly exposing itself to attack. Everyone may make an Attack of Opportunity. And yes, you may use your firearms.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 121d4 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7 knife thrust.

aoo: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
5d8 ⇒ (2, 5, 8, 1, 7) = 23

Frank watches silently as his allies take pot shots into the poor beast.

The "poor beast" drops after Scab's pistol shot. For being shot, stabbed, and now plasma burned, it still looks like you could get a good bit of meat off it.

The other mirelurk, on the other claw, makes a run for it deeper into the power plant. He's not gonna bother you anytime soon.

This one was the bigger of the two, so you may be able to get what you need from him.

If you take a 10 on Survival, you can get 3lbs. of meat

"Sweet, lets carve up this meat and return to town"

Taking 10 for 15 on survival/scavenging

Survival:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

Marcel is able to help recover some meat.

"Usually I'd suggest we ransack this place; but I doubt we have the ammo to spare. We should go."

A resounding cacophony of chitters and clicks follows Marcel's comment. Yeah, you'd better leave.

You may Fast Travel to Old Orleans now. I'll have a location counter on the Game Info section.

"I agree with Mr. Marcel. Standing and fighting is not wise in the waste."

Pushing things forward a bit...

You find yourselves inside the city walls just inside the Square. Zatarain sees you outside and heads out himself, his trusty lever-action rifle on his back.

"Ahh, mi friends an companions. Good to sees you, alive and well. I trust you have what I asked for?" He waits for you to reply, a look of curiosity and eagerness in his eyes.

"Yes, chef. Here is the meat you asked us to retrieve."

Zatarain accepts the meat, looking it over with a skilled hand.

"Oh ho ho. This is the good stuff. C'est Magnifique. Come, all of you. I will prepare you a feast fit for a king!"

Once inside, Zatarain rushes behind the bar and into the kitchen. After a few minutes, the smell of cooked mirelurk (think crab) starts drifting through the small restaurant and out into the Square.

Within a few minutes, people from across the square start filing in--Super Mutants, Ghouls, and wasters alike--just to find out what's going on.

Zatarain returns from the kitchen with an apron on a few moments later. He puts his fingers to his lips and lets out a loud whistle. Everyone stops for just a moment to hear what he has to say.

"Friends! Companions! Traders and warriors alike! I bring great news for you today! With some help from a few local mercs, I was able to retrieve the final ingrédient for a recipe long lost to the Marshes. Today, that dish has returned! I bring you! Crab gumbo!"

Zatarain turns and waves a hand at the kitchen door. It swings open to reveal several waiters with large bowls of piping hot gumbo. The first few go to you as part of your payment.

The gumbo itself tastes like...well...you can't really describe it. A taste lost to time that has returned to your mouth can only be described as "amazing." (It was a 30 Profession Chef)

After a few minutes of excitement, the restaurant's excitement starts to die down and Zatarain can finally see you.

"Merci once again my friends. You've brought the Marshes a great piece of history, and a great morceau de nourriture. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And my stomach!" He lets out a hearty laugh, then walks over to the register. Sorting through the profits, he manages to pull out 25 caps for each of you. "I made so much to day that I feel I can't thank you enough for your efforts."

He may have more for you. A Diplomacy could be used to get something else as payment.

"I seem to recall finding a few letters on the ground before we left. Does anyone want to return them to their rightful owners?" asks Crispy.

"Might as well, shouldn't take too long hopefully"

"As grateful as I am, Chef, we did expend quite a lot of ammunition bringing these critters down. Their carapaces proved extremely durable."

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21 diplomacy.

"Well I would expect as much from them...hmm..." Zatarain snaps his fingers and heads back into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a military grade ammo box. "I used to be a Waster like you, till I took a plasma bolt to the knee. Now I just keep the diner, but I think you might like this. Consider it additional payment for services rendered."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a mountain of dishes to do. Unless you'd like a few more caps." He says this last line with a chuckle before leaving.

As Zatarain leaves, a Super Mutant in a sewn together business suit and oversized shoes enters the restaurant and tacks a pamphlet to the Notice Board. He turns to the restaurant and, in a voice that is surprisingly calm for a Super Mutant, announces, "To anyone wishing to help further develop Old Orleans by helping out the Super Mutants, or just earn a few extra caps for booze, come see John Henry in the Oodo Hotel." He calmly walks out of the restaurant after his short speech.

Just as an FYI, this is the main mission. You can skip it and come back later, but you can pursue both missions at the same time.

Marcel manages to completely suppress a shudder of disgust as the creature enters, before turning to his companions.

"Making friends with the Super Mutants could be useful. Additionally, if we can persuade one to help us out then getting more Mirelurk flesh should be much simpler and much less ammo-expensive."

"... He looked friendly! Now, who wants to help me get these letters delivered? Don't all of you hold your hands up at once."

"We should drop those letters off and head over to Oodo, methinks."

"Sounds like a plan, Brother." says Crispy.

"Yes, let us drop off the letters before we investigate the Super Mutant's potential mission."

Lilith scoffs. "Love letters...well, considering I've got nothing else to do, might as well. Besides, it feels good to have someone watch my back for me." She says the last line with a hint if mischief in her voice.

She stands from the bar, taking a few (4) of the shotgun shells from the ammo box. "Anyone need to do anything before we head out?"

Scab will take whatever is left in the box after the others get what they want.

As soon as everyone is ready (I'm assuming so), you start to head out to deliver this love letter.

Now.....where the hell do you start? A gather info roll, Knowledge (local), or in game conversations would help you. There is one specific person that knows where you're going, but you'd have to ask them specifically.

You can only talk with one person at a time, but you can post as though you were talking with each person in turn.

As you start gathering intel, the song on the radio ends.'

"That was the mistress of jazz herself, Ella Fitzgerald.

This is K-Night, and I have some news for you. Twice in one day? Yes indeed!

Zatarain, owner and operator of McGrady's Bar and Grill, has gotten himself the true hustle and bustle of the big city. Why you ask? Zatarain finally found a few mercs to get him the last ingredient for a pre-war delicacy: Gumbo.

Head on down to McGrady's in Old Orleans Square today and try it for only 10 caps a bowl!

In other news, John Henry, leader of the Super Mutants, has started gathering information and is in need of a few gofers. If you don't mind money from a Super Mutant, I'd head on down to the Oodo Motel and pick up an application. And a rifle.

That's all the time we have for today. This is K-Night on KWLR, Waste Land Radio. Now, some good old fashioned music courtesy of Roy Brown and his Blues for Big Town.

Marcel blinks slightly as they leave. Love letters. LOVE letters. Love LETTERS. However, no matter how he inwardly pronounces it, it still sounds like a stupid-as-shit reason to spend an hour. Sighing, he absent-mindedly strokes his knife hilt. If we have to do any more of these then extra firepower or no extra firepower I am leaving these fellows behind.

"Congradulations, Zatarain! The way it sounded, do you think that K-Night was here?" Crispy asks.

After hearing his reply, Crispy asks Zatarain "By the way, Zatarian, we found a few letters that are adressed to a... Vinny, it appears, from someone named Carl. You wouldn't by any chance know a Vinny and a Carl, would you? I mean, besides my brother."

Zatarain gives a chuckle. "He may have, he may have not. I was too busy making gumbo to find out."

Zatarain sets down the pile of dishes he had in his hands and thinks for a moment. "Carl and Vinny...hmm...désolé, I don't know anyone by those names. Patty has a better memory, but she's not here now. Had to make a run to the bank." Patty wouldn't know either, just to keep things going.

Sighing again, Marcel stands up. "I'll go use some of my connections to find out who these people are so we can deliver this... letter." Sense Motive DC5 to notice a trace of sarcasm.

Marcel heads out the door.

K. Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Talk to the traders; Profession Trader: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Gather general information: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (20) - 2 = 18

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (15) + 0 = 15

Aw... I made it...

Crispy can tell that Marcel doesn't like the idea of small, menial tasks.

From what Marcel remembers, and from what info he can gather, there's a small ranch just north west of the city less than a day's travel that doesn't like visitors very often, and one of the ranch hands refers to the elderly owner as "Granpappy." It's worth a shot.

Can I ask around more to determine whether he is commonly known as Granpappy? And I'm assuming that he is not in fact the ranch hand's actual grandfather.

All you can gather is what you already know.

Okay.

Marcel heads back to Zatarain's place to find his group.

"So, how did your search go?"

"Good, I hope."

"There's a ranch out north-west run by a guy called 'Granpappy'. It's not much of a lead, but it could be useful."

"How many 'granpappies' could there be?"

"Well, good work Marcel. Let's check out this ranch."

Pushing things forward a bit,

It's less than a day's travel ahead of you, but you'll have to walk the whole way.

Perception checks from everyone, if you please.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

"Why is everything always a days journey away from town? Why can't it be, like, an hour's walk?" Crispy asks the group.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13 perception.

Rolling for Lilith.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

After about an hour of walking, off in the distance to the west, you see the remains of another city. While many consider it a ghost town by now, there is still some movement. Crispy, Marcel, and Lilith all see a few feral ghouls and Super Mutants wandering the city from a distance. Thankfully, they don't see you. If they did, none of you would be safe...

While the city seems to loom in the distance, a strange sound comes to the ears of Crispy and Marcel.

Is that...a banjo? Sounds a little like bluegrass. The singer sounds a little older than the backups. This might be who you're looking for.

Marcel groans quietly and with a loud sigh starts walking toward the sounds. "Terrible news, fellows. Banjo music."

"Terrible? Why so? I can't hear anything."

big surprise, right?

"Usually... I like banjos..." Crispy says in an uncertain voice.