As you make your way you find the gusting crosswinds are not as fierce as they had appeared from a distance. The ashen sand particles are so light, the slightest breeze carries them aloft. It coats your skin, and works its way into the weaves in fabrics of your garb. As long as you able to cover your mouth, it is only a minor nuisance.
The wagon ruts curve to the right, and head through a copse of wiry trees with branches which (despite the crosswinds you are now experiencing) have grown reaching North. The wagon rut trail now merges with a dry riverbed.
The well-dressed man hangs around waiting at the edge of the junkyard field. He clears his throat as light winds blow gusts of powdery silt and sand. "I'm not one to shell out free advice... however, you can't very well spend those silverdisks by... milling around here. Even if you discover something of worth... why you'd hardly want to haul it back to Nephyx in this dreadful weather."
He sits on the luggage he'd had you carry, and re-wraps his scarf. He looks like a northern city-dweller "in costume" for a soiree of Nephyxian elite - unsuitable for surviving a real dust-storm.
"I'll be fine. My client will be along shortly, and I'm obliged to afford him some amount of privacy. I'm sure you understand."
He does not seem like he is watching for anyone - no glancing to the horizon. He seems more like he is waiting for you to leave.
Sharp returns from scouting around, and directs you attention to a glinting light (likely from a scope or spyglass) and two heads peering from within the junkyard. They are around 250 feet from you, not currently moving - it is not clear if they are hostile.
'I'd hold quiet about how much you think I can haul, city slicker... but never ways mind, 'cher coin is good, and I mean no trouble. I'll be on my way, then.
And, as an afterthought, he adds a bit slower, "But you're right about the storm a-coming... an' if you change your mind 'n spook at the sand, make sure and holler before I'm outta earshot."
Ta'mas waves goodbye and calls back Sharp. A scope could mean trouble, or it could just mean this odd fop's got some actually competent friends. But, this bein' a junkyard, Ta'mas decides to see if he can't put some terrain between him and the scope, moving behind dunes and debris as he tries to circle towards whatever passes for high ground here.
The wagon trail had been keeping in line with the dry riverbed enough for you to follow - without needing to "keep an eye" on the tracks. The terrain has since flattened, the ground more firm, and the trail is requiring a little more attention.
"Mhmm. Thanks again. Safe journey."
There is a ridge just northeast of the junk field. Several panels of joined wood slats are leaned up at the edge - putting solid cover between you and the unknown pair.
Just before you move behind the cover, you notice "pillars" of junk - piled, lashed, and propped against the wood panels, and facing the interior of the junkyard. They are vaguely in the shape of humanoids and riddled with broken arrow shafts... looks like target practice.
You hear a faint click behind you, turn and see it had come from the well-dressed man clicking open a latch on his one of his cases.
Draught looks around, watching for danger and for the next challenge.
Tomin will keep an eye on the trail.
Since Zazz tends to be in the back, even if Dwidney isn't around now (or is he?).
yeah ignore that hah.
You come within sight of an area filled with junk half-covered in sand. To the north and south are rises in the terrain about 10-15' high and steep sides of ridges just beyond. The nearest couple hundred feet of the junkfield (which is over 300' away from your current location) is surrounded by wooden fencing so deteriorated, most of the perimeter is only discernible by the tumbleweed caught upon it.
The scrap within the fenced-in area is in wide unkempt piles, but appears negotiable by way of winding dirt paths. Beyond that couple hundred feet, the terrain is carpeted with mottled colors of rusting metal, tattered debris, and sand.
You continue taking a route under cover toward higher ground. Sharp directs your attention to others approaching to the southeast. They are traveling along the same route by which you'd arrived.
The well-dressed man is focused on the contents of his luggage (seemingly unaware) - if he knows they are coming, he does not show it.
"There is a humanoid there, at the junkyard's entrance. It has not noticed us yet. What would you propose we do, companions?"
"Be on your guard, there is someone ahead. He does not seem to have spotted us. Looks like the wagon went north, but the tracks kept going. Strange."
Tomin will cast guidance on himself as he says this.
Could be some harmless scavengers, folks that live here and like to defend themselves from bandits. Hmm. Still, the disappearing wagon seems a mite strange. With others approaching, Ta'mas will hold and wait for a bit, while drawing his shield, just in case.
You continue your approach after making your individual preparations. You can soon see the man seated at the edge of the junkyard. He looks a little too "well-dressed" for the environment. He is digging through some luggage when he notices you.
He stands straight, and tugs on his scarf to unmuffle his mouth. He then raises his arms to show empty hands. "Ahoy! Hey. Hello there!" He looks to his left, as another figure on the near side of the dilapidated fence comes into view.
The well-dressed man continues, addressing the second. "Don't you worry, Ta'mas. I will handle this. If.. you.. run.. they.. will.. chase.. you."
In the junkyard behind the well-dressed man, you hear a rattle and clang like something metal had toppled from a pile. Though it could be nothing, there are more than enough places for danger to hide. From what Tomin has said, those who'd taken the supplies most likely traveled to or through here.
At the well-dressed man's feet are a few pieces of luggage. He flips the open one shut with a toe... then "Heh heh"s nervously with a shrug as he waits for some sign from you of your intent.
You spotted some movement. There is at least one person or creature lurking within the junkyard (around S,8).
Draught sees nothing useful, and awaits her companions to set the tone of the encounter.
"We've come this far, let's go say Hi."
Tomin will ride up to the well dressed man.
As he gets close:
"Hello there."
Zazz will go with tomin a few steps behind, keeping a look around.
"Yes, maybe they saw something."
The well-dressed man relaxes slightly - whether or not he heard the unaccounted for clamor behind him, he did not show a reaction. "Yes hello" He smiles and nods eagerly to Tomin. He gestures for the other man (Ta'mas) to come to his side. "You see Ta'mas? There are decent humans out here.... Well they've already shown themselves to be within the decreasing percentile of civilized folk by not attacking a defenseless man and his ill-fortuned guide on sight, yes?"
He faces the group fully, and turns his "hands up" to outward... in a gesture of solidarity.
"Yes. A rare breed. Dare I say a common breed. Heheh"
Draught steps forward. "We are here to retrieve some stolen goods for their rightful owners. Please allow us past so that we may get them and leave you to your solitude."
"Ah very good, very good." He begins scooting his trappings off to the side. "Just arrived myself, and would welcome a proper sit."
He ponders Draught's words for a moment as he sits on his stacked cases. "Stolen goods, you say? Perhaps the environs which lie on the surface are not as uninhabited as I had thought. I say, should you come across a Dr. Harkleburn, do tell him his former student Ervin Ildfrik is about - making quite an effort to reacquaint. I've come to regret scoffing at his wild notions as I'd proclaimed them. Ha."
"I've often thought about his face when I'd called him a mad fool.... Now I think about.. how smug I must have looked. How could I have known he was right."
He fidgets to standing and turns shaking a fist toward the junkyard... and yells. "Well here I am, Doctor Harkleburn! Yes! Come tell me I was the fool!"
The ruts made by the loaded wagon end abruptly at the most secure-looking section of the outer fence. Wood panels have been propped up and nailed together to form a crude wall. On the interior are junk-crafted manikins riddled with snapped arrows - the humanoid-shaped targets are lashed against the wood panel wall.
Since he's been made anyway, Ta'mas comes down from the dunes to speak with the newcomers.
"Ta'mas," with a curt nod, and then to his former employer, "Those men in the junkyard—the ones as made those arrows—they with you, or are we gonna have trouble?"
Zazz is pretty much unaware of anything... having a proccessor error perhaps.
"Zazz."
"On our end, I believe our group is all accounted for."
The well-dressed man Ervin looks into the junkyard "Oh. Someone is around? More likely a guard than anyone important."
As he says this, a hooded figure scrambles to the top of a pile.
The figure holds a rifle with a scope in on hand, and points toward your group with the other.
Ratfolk.... "Grubs've got our bossboys' gear all lashed up as'r own." Four more come into view. Three with shortbows, and one with a bayoneted crossbow who continues the thought. "Suspect it's ill boding for them... like these folk did'em in..." The first with the rifle nods. "What say we pepper them with shots... see if they run away." The crossbowman shakes his head "No no not my style, to your suggesting it straight off I'm ashamed... Lets see what these here meats got to say for themselves first, eh?"
Draught moves forward to ii31, then diagonally to ff27. "Those verminous creatures seem to want to fire their weapons at us."
Zazz takes adouble move, and end up at EE 27, drawing a weapon with each hand, one per move action. Cogwheel in right, Cog gear in left.
"These your men, city-slicker?" Ta'mas shouts at Ervin. Quick thinking suggests that someone here are bandits, and it's more likely 'n not the fellers with the gun. And so he shouts to newcomers, "Get behind something, y'idiots! Guns need ta' see ya, an' you might as well argue from safety!"
And then, staying true to his words, he moves to aa,26, flattening himself against the nearest pile so that most of the rats don't have a clear sight to him, and prepares Improved Disarm.
Tomin will ride up to Y26 or so, dismount the horse and attempt to lash it to the junk.
Araden urges Titan south of the entrance, and keeps low as he dismounts. Timney dives for cover behind a nearby junkpile.
The rifle-toting rat gives the order. "Alright... Mitts and Kern see their hidey spots, yes? Once they show their fleshy faces, fire. Lobel and Pank, drop and post up... defend the Boss Shack. Horses bring fistfuls of silverdisks... so aim well."
Two of the ratkin scramble from their piles - moving out of sight. The others take aim at their selected foes under cover.
"Yep, definitely hostiles!" Tomin shouts, and moves to U26, taking a full defense action as he flattens himself behind a new pile of junk.
Zazz shuffles up peeking to see targets, then copies his form in purple light and sends it rushing forward as a distraction for others.
Draught moves to EE24 and hides herself as well. "It would seem that our two groups are at an impasse. Any suggestions?"
The ratkin who had line of sight to Ta'mas' path apparently had not been prepared to fire where he'd had a chance, because no arrow flies as Ta'mas makes his move.
They also do not fire on Zazz's conjured humanoid of light. One of the rats snorts... "Dunno what kinda tricky business that is...."
The well-dressed man Ervin yells out from his cover... "Pardon me ratmen... Are you, by chance, part of the science team?! I am a colleague of Doctor Harkleburn!"
One ratkin responds. "Dunno no Harkleburn..."
Tomin whispers to Ta'Mas.
"Maybe I can get behind them."
Then, will double move to HH13, attempting to flank.
The ratfolk do not advance, and the three perched on top of the junkpiles prepare to fire on sight.
During the brief standoff, Ervin then moves up near Zazz, Draught, and Tomin... "I will quickly come clean here as it seems I might need your assistance here. An ancient alien cache - thought to be legend - was found under the earth here. Many years ago, Dr Harkleburn attempted to recruit me for a science team to unlock the secrets of their technology. I thought it was a joke... I've come to realize my error."
"I've been monitoring and triangulating broadcasts trying to find the facility. The most recent signal I've picked up came from this location. Considering the presence of these rat-people, I now fear for the safety of the science team. Please eliminate them so we may investigate further."
A shot rings out as Tomin passes through the rifle-toting rat's line of sight, but misses.
Zazz, upon noting the flanking attempts, places his hands on his chest setting the parameters for a mesmeric trick, then dashes forward to draw the attention.
Mesmeric Mirror: An illusory image appears around the subject to throw off attackers. The mesmerist can trigger this trick when the subject is attacked or becomes the target of a spell that requires an attack roll. One duplicate of the subject appears, and the attacker must determine randomly which it hits (as mirror image). For every 5 caster levels the mesmerist possesses, one additional image appears, to a maximum of five images at 20th level. Lasts 1 min per mesmerist level or until destroyed. This is an illusion (figment) effect.
"Maybe there's pay in this?" Ta'mas mutters, and moves forward to O,23.
And Ta'mas twists the rifle out of the nearest Ratfolk's hand, spinning it around to point at him as he growls.
As Zazz scrambles along the junkpile's edge, he sees the rifle-toting rat had not yet finished reloading. Zazz's copy appears as both crossbowman and shortbow-wielder aim and fire.
Ta'mas snatches the crossbow from the rat, but not after a small bolt grazes Zazz.
Tomin continues flanking around, using the cover to Z6. (40ft movement speed)
Ta'mas, with his hands full, moves to P,17 and attempts to kick the riflerat's feet out from under him, entering rage as he does so.
"DROP THE GUN and I will LET YOU LIVE!"
Draught double-moves around the junk pile to Z-19, hoping to get a clear shot at one of the rats afterward.
The ratling Ta'mas had just disarmed snaps at him as Ta'mas hustles toward the rifle-toting leader - who he quickly topples.
Ta'mas, Draught, and Tomin can now see the two other ratkin who'd dropped out of view to fight sneakily.
The rat Ta'mas had disarmed draws a dagger, and gestures to one in hiding to advance. The rat who'd been in hiding - comes up behind Ta'mas with a long dagger in hand as well. The rat he'd just tripped attempts to get to his feet... squawking "Blah! Come to my aid!", and then tries to bite into the wastelander's arm.
The westernmost perched rat with a shortbow scrambles north off his junkpile - suddenly not feeling confident seeing his mates manhandled so handily.
Draught moves to U19 and finally has an open shot on the rat at N18.
plus
Ta'mas narrowly catches the rat's bite on his metal claw, and attempts to kick the riflerat in the chest as it stands back up.
Grimacing, but still raging, he hurls the crossbow he still holds as far as he can to the south, and then uses his free hand to grab the riflerat around the neck, lifting the tiny stringy creature off the ground and spitting into its face.
"DROP the GUN," he shouts again, "And tell your mutant scum to leave!"
Zazz comes around the corner to see rats closing in on the new fellow and dashes forward.
Araden moves in to cover Draught and Zazz's advance. Tomin moves up along the westernmost edge, and hacks at the ratkin with his falchion - trading blows as the rat jabs with his readied dagger. Both miss.
The ratkin held firmly by Ta'mas drops his rifle. He sees his ally who'd been coming up behind Ta'mas receive a sizzling wound from Draught's pistol, and squeals out a surrender...
"We give! Yes we run! We'll not fight nor nip at your fleshy flesh! We run! Let me go.. we leave and never come back!" The rat is so clearly lying, that the others take no heed of his words.
One ratkin lunges for Ta'mas with his dagger, the other bares its fangs and charges hissing toward him as well. They swarm at him, but are ineffective against him.
The ratkin armed with a shortbow moves up between two piles, and lines up a shot against Draught.
Ta'mas power kicks one of the rats attacking him.
Draught calmly stares at the ratkin that just shot her, reloading her pistol. She then takes a five-foot step toward him and fires at him.
plus
Unforunately she misses pretty badly. She frowns at her gun.