"Coel MacMorn," he replied, "Thanks for the music. Although, you had some competition for a while." Coel indicated Gortech with a sideways tilt of his head.
He glanced over her seeing all the signs of a fighter rather than a singer, "I don't suppose you usually earn your drinks with a song. Not that it was not a good song but you carry yourself like a fighting woman."
Frowns a bit. Sadly I don't. Oh well C'eat la Etait. So what are you two up to here in these parts? He pushes his finished plate back and pulls a mechanics satchel onto the counter. From it he withdraws a cloth and lays his pistol on it. He quickly strips it and begins cleaning it. Now that I'm fed its time for a invasive cleaning. I gave her a quick one this morning and haven't had to fire her yet but I dont like doing a full break down alone in the field. You never know what else is out there..... He shudders a bit as he cleans the grit out of ever little crevice in the gun in a remarkably short time.
"Passing through for the most part, to be honest. Though was thinking about poking around the mart to do a bit of trading. For the most part I just needed a bit of time off the road to relax a bit and get some food and drink" And on top of that places like this and the mart were excellent sources of local news.
A few hours into the merriment, the bustle within the inn finally began to die down. Many of the locals have finally been weeded out by exhaustion or by alcohol sickness. A good number of the wasteland wanderers who had found themselves in refuge there had either moved on or decided to get a room to retire in for the night. Only a handful of locals and a couple of inn workers were left in the bar along with the last five of the wanderers.
The scene was much more peaceful now that night had set in. The poster on the wall had been removed and the inn workers didn’t seem to mind the holes that had been left there by the knife throwers, there were many mugs scattered throughout the room on tables that were being carefully collected, and light chatter could be heard from a handful of humans not yet inebriated enough to pass out like many of the others. It was almost soothing, which could be the only reason the wanderers were still here. WaMat had a certain aura about it that could only be described as soothing. In a world full of hate, war, and theft, WaMat was calm and friendly.
Suddenly the door to the bar swung open, startling everyone present. It had been at least an hour since the last person entered the bar and only half that long since the last person had left. Standing in the doorway was a stoutly built man standing just over six feet tall. Like something straight out of a western, he had a belt lined with bullets, a duster that hung inches above the ground at the bottom, and a black cowboy hat with small knives held in place by the band of the hat. His jaw was square and covered with 5 o’ clock shadow, his skin was very tanned (no doubt by a great exposure to sunlight over the course of his life), and his skin aged slightly only seeming to indicate experience. Over his shoulder he carried a large rifle.
After taking a moment to look around the room, he points to Baird.
”You there. And anyone else in here interested in making some money or getting some supplies. I have a proposition for you.”
The man seems almost like he’s in a hurry, but he also seems adamant in convincing at least one of you to speak to him. It seems strange that he would rush into an inn in the middle of the night expecting someone to help him, but he either got lucky or knew exactly where to look to find wasteland wanderers.
Things grew quiet after the bulk of the tavern's patrons had left, and Baird found it to be quite peaceful after such a long evening. He took a quick glance around the room and noticed that the cat woman was still there, Cassandra he remembered her calling herself, as well as the shadowy dark-skinned man, and the eccentric dwarven woman. He hadn't had a chance to become acquainted with her, and he wasn't inclined to at that point. The hour had grown late, he and Stryke had both grown weary, and it would soon be time for them to return to the wilderness and set up camp. Peace was hard-found in this wasteland, and those that found it would cling to it for as long as they could. Baird was sure that he would see all of these people again, and at that time he would perhaps become better acquainted with some of them.
A yawn from the beast behind him told Baird that it was time to finish up his last drink for the night. He had emptied half of the mug when the doors of the tavern flew open, slamming into the walls in the process. Baird stole a quick glance at him out of the corner of his eye. Judging from his rugged looks and openly worn arms, he decided that the man was potentially dangerous. He had a sense of urgency about him, and Baird was caught off guard when the man called out to him directly. Money and supplies, eh? Coin doesn't do me a lot of good, and we're perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves in the wild. Still, Baird was not one to turn away someone in need without at least seeing what was amiss. He was so openly willing to throw coin around, indicating that either he was really in need of assistance, or he was someone with which Baird did not want to get involved.
"A proposition? Let's hear it. I can't guarantee you I'll be willing to go along with it, but I'll at least listen to what you have to say."
Saturday, looked over his shoulder from the coin he was spinning on the counter. He slapped it down and it was gone when he picked up his hand. He turned his bar stool around with a smile and listened.
Perhaps dis is it…
Cassandra wasn't entirely sure why she was still in the bar, she'd eaten and had plenty of time to relax after her rather long trip, for a while she had intentionally lingered because the people were nice and the conversation pleasant. It was surprisingly easy to get along with the people in this bar, far more so than she was used to so perhaps that was a bit of it. Now though most of the bar had cleared out, thankfully for the safety of the bar the horned man had left and not a single issue had arisen from his stay, perhaps that would be a nice memory for those assembled, that even one so strange looking was not necessarily as monstrous as he appeared.
Among the remaining patrons was the large pelted man... Baird? She was certain she had heard him throw out the name a few times even if it had not necessarily been at herself along with his bear, the dark skinned man who had initiated the knife challenge that had been a major factor in her actually becoming acquainted with the others in the bar his name had been one she had not quite picked up leaving him a mystery, the dwarvish woman who had made no effort to reign in her curiosity, and another man whom Cassandra had not quite had the chance to become acquainted with.
As Cassandra took stock of the remaining patrons and contemplated looking for somewhere to spend the night a new figure burst through the doors of the bar in quite a hurry, it was more than a little surprising and rather immediately put Cassandra on edge her claws popping out as a reflex as she narrowed her eyes on the newcomer, as he spoke however Cassandra managed to calm herself. He did not appear to be a threat but rather a man looking for aid it was a bit of a risk to just roll with something like this but the promise of money and supplies was a tempting one. What put her over on a decision was the aid that she had received from Darius earlier in the night, at an expense of himself he had sought to help her eat and before she could repay him he had gone.
Taking to her feet Cassandra crossed the room approaching the newcomer "Money and supplies are exactly the sort of things I'm interested in, you've got my attention so what's the proposition." She asked, with any luck it would be something nice and simple a bit of 'easy money'
An hour fit only for insomniacs and madmen, Elénaril thinks. A man bursting into a nearly empty tavern with suspicious propositions? Could be either.
He glances around the room, taking stock. Might any of these people know this man? They all seem surprised. Is his arrival coincidence? Or conspiracy?
He begins to clear his throat, preparing to speak, curiosity getting the better of him. Questions on the tip of his tongue, but then--second thoughts.
Wait and watch, he thinks. If I've learned nothing else, I've learned patience. Let the others ask my questions for me.
The young dwarf woman looks up from where she was doing a bit of regular maintenance on her equipment, a beaten and battered looking rifle that seemed to be kept together partly by duct tape. She glances around before realizing that she's one of the only ones left here - seeing perhaps an opportunity for some traveling supplies, she gets to her feet and approaches with a smile, looking up at the stranger, and his weapon.
"...Is that a 30-06?" She asks. "Nice piece."
The man smiles as he looks around the room. He has evidently gotten the response he wanted from at least someone. He shot Oxana a quick nod before continuing.
"Simple really, there's something I need in Nashville and I need help getting it. The place I'm going, there's supposedly a stash of weapons and valuables to make any man drool. I hear Nashville is a nasty place, though."
He parts the rifle from his shoulder and holsters it over his back, then reaches out his hand for someone to shake it.
"Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Khazad Morunghul. What do ya say? We'll split the stash, I'll get what I'm looking for, and we'll be on our merry way. I figure we'll leave out 'bout the time the sun rises."
The room goes quiet as the small group of travelers consider the stranger's offer. Surprisingly, Elénaril is the first to respond, leaning forward and staring intently at Khazad. His voice is soft and sad, but strong enough to carry across the empty common room. "I visited Nashville, once, many years ago. What is it that you are hoping to find there, Morunghul?"
"Sure, why not?" Oxana says, reaching out and shaking the man's hand. "I've never been to Nashville. Is it anything like Enwaisee? Or Ellay?"
Baird had heard about the place called Nashville in his travels. Unlike the country's other great cities to the north, such as New York and Boston, no one has spoken of Nashville as a center of civilization. Ill rumors were abound, and it was a mystery as to why such a large place that was no doubt filled with leftover resources would remain abandoned.
"You say it is a nasty place, and I am inclined to agree with you. I have heard nothing good about this place called Nashville, what can we expect to find there?"
Cassandra listenedintently as the man explained the details of what he needed, overall it sounded pretty solidly up her ally onsidering the nature of the mission was 'go here, get stash' theoretially depending on the size of the stash and the amount of protection around it she could do the job alone. but of course if the guard was light and defenses minimal it was unlikely this man would be seeking aid.
"Sounds simple enough, all we really need to do is not alert any attention, what exactly makes Nashville so 'nasty'?" Cassandra inquired, perhaps it was just general thugs, perhaps bbandits, or maybe even something worse. Cassandra knew little of Tennesee so she had little way of knowing its dangers.
"Not the hand shaking typed, eh? Don't blame ya."
Khazad walked confidently into the inn, his boots clicking against the wooden floor almost echoing into the room. He half-heartedly pulled out a chair and dropped himself into it. Throwing his feet up onto the table, he leaned back in the chair and retrieved a cigar from his coat and an old zippo from his belt.
"I'll be honest, I'm not sure what exactly it is I'm looking for. I'll just know it when I see it."
Sense Motives
He put the tip of the cigar into his mouth and flipped open the lighter, lighting the cigar.
"I've only heard rumors of what's in Nashville. Not many who go in escape. Some sort of monsters from what I hear, no way to know for sure."
From what you can tell, Khazad isn't lying to you. However, you can tell that he is hiding something.
"Oh, so it's dangerous, then?" Oxana asks, reeling back from the acrid smoke coming from the cigar. It was a nasty scent to her. "Okay, sure. Oh, but if this is a trap, tallboy, then it's not a very good one yet. Shall we go?"
"Not the hand shaking type, eh? Don't blame ya."
The elf smiles slyly, nodding. "Your point is valid, Morunghul. You introduced yourself, and it would be only polite to reciprocate."
He stands, giving a half-bow. "I prefer to be called Wayfarer, if you don't mind. An odd name, I admit, but..." He waves a hand dismissively.
"I believe you are telling us the truth, Morunghul. Not everything, no, but as we are strangers to you, I understand your reluctance."
"I personally, would like to see Nashville for myself, and learn the truth about these 'monsters'. As to whether I can be of use," he shrugs, "I am a competent doctor, a practiced wasteland survivalist, and experienced incendiary creator. Please decide for yourself if those sound like useful skill sets."
"If so, I can be ready to travel by dawn." Wayfarer sits back down, returning his attention to his now lukewarm tea.
"I have not been to Nashville in a very long time." The tall dark-skinned man with the thick accent said, still smiling. "It think it is past time I return."
Cassandra smirked at Khazad's comment on the lack of anyone taking him up on his handshake "I tend to hold off on the handshaking until I know for a fact that I'm going to take up a job." She said with a shrug, despite everything Cassandra liked at least making an effort to keep to her word when she gave it in a genuine manner and before she gave any indication of agreement she wanted to know a bit more, Khazad shortly thereafter provided that Nashville was quite the dangerous location and that it was also a home to 'monsters' from what he had heard.
The vagueness of it was a bit troubling but not entirely unexpected, stories about certain places get passed around so much it's a rather difficult task to keep things factual 'monsters' could mean anything, people like herself, people like the horned men, it could mean nothing at all or it could mean there was something genuinely freaky out there.
She'd never know unless she took the job, 'Wayfarer' as he called himself seemed confident that Khazad was being at least mostly truthful and was willing to pursue this venture, the dwarvish woman was all but ready to set out, and the dark skinned man gave a strangely cryptic agreement on joining in, all that was left was Baird and herself. "Alright, I'm in, I don't have much else to do with my time and I'm certain I'll be able to make use of whatever we find." She said with a smirk leaving only Baird as the last undecided party.
Baird was still somewhat reluctant to accept the man's request. He had very little need for what the man was offering, and the fact that they would be going up against "monsters" made it seem like they would be out of their league. Despite the uncertainty, all of the others threw their lot in with this stranger one by one. The dwarf seemed like she would be up for just about anything, and Baird wasn't even sure how to read the dark-skinned man just yet, but this "Wayfarer" fellow seemed to trust him completely. He was able to approach Stryke and speak to him without putting the bear on edge earlier, he had even managed to pet him. From what he had said to Morunghul and the way he had said it, Wayfarer seemed a fairly wise man and a good judge of character. Baird supposed that he could at least trust his judgement.
"I haven't been down this way myself, but I've heard much about this land during my travels. I can help get us there, and I can make sure that we're never short of food and water on the way. You have my axe and Stryke's claws, Morunghul. Whatever these monsters may be, I am sure that we can cut them down much like any other beast!"
In a way Baird was excited by the thought of this adventure. It had been too long since his wanderings had brought him much excitement, and what greater glory could he bring to the Great Bear than purging an old city of fearsome monsters? His traveling companions also seemed an interesting lot, and he could probably learn plenty from working at their side.
"We go at sunrise, correct? Perhaps I shall retire then. I will be camped on the big hill just outside WaMat. Wake me if any important developments occur before then."
Khazad takes a puff from his cigar before taking it out of his mouth and, with a grin, nods his head.
"Well looking here went better than expected. See y'all here at dawn. You all sound like an excellent addition to my expedition."
And with that, he took his feet down from the table and slid his chair out and stood. Walking over to the bar, he lays down an old-world gold dollar and nods toward the stairs. The woman tending the bar crouches out of sight before coming back up with a set of keys, one of which she gives Khazad.
"Keep the change, hun."
And with that, he began walking upstairs to one of the upper stories of the building.
"Room 342 if y'all need me."
Wayfarer carefully watched as Khazad left the room. Many questions raised, few answers given. Perhaps he intends to brief us more once we're on the way--after all, there's little sense in revealing all the details to those who may not be committed to his goals.
The inn's workers were still in the process of cleaning, gathering up the many mugs and plates scattered throughout the room. Wayfarer stood, nodded curtly to his fellow expedition volunteers, and grabbed a damp rag to help clear and clean the tables.
Within a few minutes, the common room was cleaned, quiet except for the murmurs of a handful of low conversations and the distant clatter of some unlucky sod washing dishes in the back. Wayfarer sat at one of the larger tables, near the middle of the room, and spread a thick, clean square of cloth in front of him. He then began removing a series of tiny vials and satchels from his belt pouch, carefully organizing them on the cloth in front of him.
"If we will be working together," Wayfarer said quietly, apparently to no one in particular, his attention solidly focused on the chemicals before him, "then I should let you know that right now I am preparing a series of small but potent incendiary devices." He slowly opened half of the vials, using tweezers to mix precisely measured portions of grey and yellow powders with a thick, clear liquid. "You may think of them as a type of grenade, I suppose. They are very dangerous, but useful. They will be helpful, I believe, if Morunghul's 'monsters' are more than just rumor and supposition."
"But the most important thing I need you to know about these devices," Wayfarer continued, "is that they are far too risky to use in close range--there is an unacceptable chance that I could set one of you on fire. I beg you to keep this in mind if we run across any danger."
He looked up, eyebrow raised. "Any questions?"
Saturday gave a jaunty salute, holding his coin to his brow. "Tomorrow it is, den."
Listening to the demolitionist speak he simply nodded. "I will be sure to keep out of your way."
"Great, you can set them on fire, and then Stryke and I can tear apart what's left!" Baird didn't like the idea of being set up for an easy victory, but depending on what monsters they would be facing, it might be necessary.
"I suggest that we gather more information from this Morunghul before we reach our destination. Right now I feel as if we are walking blindly."
Cassandra chuckled at Baird's rather simplistic approach to how best to deal with Wayfarer's abilities, it was of course not a BAD idea, often the best solution was a simple one. The danger posed by Wayfarer's 'grenades' was only present if they made poor tactical choices, ideally in a combat situation he could use them to deal with incoming threats while the rest of them dealt with present threats.
"Once we figure out exactly what we're up against and if were even actually 'up against' it we can decide how best to proceed with our various skills and weapons. Once we're a bit closer I can do a bit of reconnaissance to give us an idea of what we're up against. On foot it's pretty much a guarantee nobody will spot me. Once we're on the road I definitely agree with Baird any information he has on what we're going into is information we need. I only like surprises when I'm the one springing them." Cassandra said with a grin.
Oxana blinks and glances around at all the tallboys, before shrugging her shoulders and going over to the bar, pulling out what little money she had and putting it down. "I'll take a room for the night too, please. How anyone can sleep under the sky without something good and solid between it and them I haven't the foggiest."
Saturday, knowing tonight might be his last night in a place with a surplus of attractive company and attractive alcohol, spent the night making new friends. Some of them very good friends...
The night felt long, but those used to the wasteland were used to it. The night was calm and the sky clear. With the lack of light pollution so familiar to those who were alive before the fall, the Milky Way was perfectly visible overhead. To anyone who didn't know better, you could almost swear it was like magic looming overhead. Perhaps looking out at it would be the closest thing anyone would have to a religious experience. The wasteland was a wasteland, but it still had its beauty.
Eventually the party all found their respective beds and eventually fell asleep there. Almost as soon as they fell asleep, however, it was dawn. The sun on the horizon was shining in through the windows of the inn and upon those camping outside. It was by this time that Khazad had already shown up in the lobby of the inn. When the first of you arrive, you can see him with his feet propped up on a table as they were the night before, this time he has a plate on his belly with a half-eaten breakfast surely prepared by the inn-keepers. As he continues eating, he tips his hat at the first of the party to arrive.
Wayfarer squints into the morning sun and sighs contentedly. "<Another night behind, another day before,>" he quietly murmurs to himself in Elvish.
He catches sight of the confidant Khazad with his boots scuffing one of the inn's tabletops. "Ah. It is a fine morning to travel, Morunghul," he says. "As our expedition leader, perhaps you would be generous enough to procure breakfast for your followers, while you brief us on our route of travel and what expectations you have for the journey."
It will be interesting to see what he does here. Khazad's certainly got resources to spare--he paid for his room ten times over last night--but if he regards us as nothing more than expendable cannon fodder, then he might not be willing to 'waste' a breakfast on us. On the other hand, if he's truly depending on our help to survive, he may try to cultivate a warmer relationship...
Wayfarer looks up as he spots the others returning to the common room one by one. Speaking of warmer relationships...I suppose I must do my best to earn some measure of comradeship with my fellow travelers. Though at my age, I am so tired of making this kind of effort.
Wayfarer greets the others individually, being careful to be polite and friendly to each. There is nevertheless something distant and sad about his manner, as if wary--almost frightened--to get too close to any of them.
To Saturday: "Bonjour. Comment êtes-vous?" Wayfarer grins sheepishly. "I apologize, my accent must be terrible. I spoke French, once, many years ago, though I've forgotten all but a few fragments." He pulls out a chair and motions for the dark-skinned man to join the group. "From your accent, traveler, I came to believe you were likely from the mid-south region of this country, where French was once--and possibly still is--used commonly. Am I far from the mark?"
To Oxana: "Good morning, Child of Earth. I hope you were able to sleep soundly and solidly. I fear it may be your last night under a roof for quite a while."
To Cassandra: "Well met. My facility with names grows poor as I approach my twilight years, but I believe I overheard you say your name was Cassandra, yes?"
To Baird: "Welcome back, Baird. You seem a man accustomed to sleeping rough, so I'm sure your night on the hill has left you rested and refreshed. Are you and Stryke ready to travel?"
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Baird had retired to his campsite earlier than the others had, so he was able to awaken just a little bit before dawn. A low rumbling sound alerted him to his hunger, and so he knew it was time to hunt.
"Come, Stryke, let us get some breakfast to fill our bellies!"
With his excellent hunting skills and Stryke's sharp nose, it wasn't long before they were able to hunt down one of the largest bucks that they had ever seen. Baird felt bad for having to kill such a majestic creature, but the two of them had to eat. With axe in hand, the barbarian rushed the beast, keeping pace with the charging bear next to him, and the two of them had no trouble bringing it down.
"A fine job, my friend! We will eat well because of this hunt! Perhaps we should bring it back to the tavern and see if our traveling companions are hungry."
The thrill of the hunt had distracted him from it, but afterwards Baird became aware that he was terribly thirsty. They were a safe distance from town well out into the wilderness, and he did not waste anymore time searching, so Baird used his powers to conjure enough water to satisfy his and Stryke's thirst, as well as a little extra to take back to the tavern.
"A fine gift, eh Stryke? It looks like the Great Bear smiles on us today. Now, let us return, I am sure the others are waiting."
Once again Baird and his companion drew a lot of attention from the people of WaMat as they marched to the tavern, but the massive buck slung over Stryke's back no doubt deterred many a question. As they entered the tavern, they received a friendly greeting from the elven wayfarer.
"We will be, just as soon as we get this big guy cooked," he said, indicating the buck. "I figured we might as well have one last good meal before hitting the road! I also managed to find some water, in case any of you are thirsty."
Cassandra let out a long yawn as she awoke to the early morning sun, her nights sleep had been decent enough and she found herself blissfully lacking in a hangover as she recalled having only a single drink over the course of the night due to her foolish gambling attempt her recollection however brought up an important point she hadn't had much in the way of actual water in a rather long stretch of time leaving her throat dry, a quick dig through Harrley's side bags produced a large canteen from which Cassandra would drink and made a mental note to see if the inn would refill the canteen.
Taking out her kit Cassandra went to work her hair and fur, were today not when they were planning to head out for Tennesee she would have ridden Harley out in search of a body of water in which to bathe but as she was unsure how soon Kazad wished to set out she decided against it. Her appearance in order Cassandra re-packed her gear attaching the bulk of it to Harley as usual. With a small smirk Cassandra hopped onto the bike and in an instant the bike roared to life.
With Harley active Cassandra rode the bike much closer to the entrance, it would be rather inconvenient to have to go off and get Harley later when they departed so it was best to bring her near, on top of that it would certainly be a bit of fun to see the reactions, Harley always drew quite a bit of attention. Once at the entrance Cassandra would hop off Harley and proceed back into the bar finding three of the others already awake and together, Kazad himself was already most of the way through a meal that reminded Cassandra that she too should grab something to eat, 'Wayfarer' who greeted her in a freidnly if a bit detached manner, and Baird along with Stryke who had evidently gotten up early to go hunting and had managed to obtain a rather large catch.
"Yup, I've had a few people call me Cass, but usually everyone sticks to the full name. Have the others awoken yet?" Cassandra asked wondering exactly what was the best course of action for food, Baird's statment to Wayfarer was that 'we' might as well have one last good meal but whether he meant himself and Stryke or the group as a whole she was unsure, the offer of water however was clearly up for all and one she was willing to partake in.
"We will be, just as soon as we get this big guy cooked," he said, indicating the buck. "I figured we might as well have one last good meal before hitting the road! I also managed to find some water, in case any of you are thirsty."
Wayfarer raises an eye in surprise at the size of the buck. "That is an impressive piece of game. I can help you skin and prepare it, if you like. I'm sure that the inn will be willing to let us use their kitchen and ovens, if we trade them the excess meat."
"Yup, I've had a few people call me Cass, but usually everyone sticks to the full name."
"Very well, Cassandra it is!" Wayfarer says, trying to give as warm a smile as he can. "By the way," he adds, turning a bit more serious, "I heard a rumbling noise just before you arrived. Sounded like a motorcycle engine. Do you have a vehicle out there?"
Oxana shows up dressed and ready for travel, chewing slowly on some dry biscuits and taking a drink from her waterskin. Perhaps the technological golden age had ended, but at least they still had decent agriculture and clean water flowing from the rivers and streams. She looks at the others, the last to arrive, blinking slowly before speaking.
"So, are we going now?" She asks, looking at the arrow head as he speaks to her. "I tell you what. You don't call me a child, I don't call you something you don't like. I'm pretty sure I can find one that would irritate you."
Cassandra grinned as Wayfarer brought up Harley "Yup that was my Harley. I've had her for a long time now, did most of the work toward getting her fixed up properly myself." Cassandra said a not insignificant amount of pride in her voice as she spoke of the vehicle.
"What is a 'Harley'," Baird asked as he and the Wayfarer were preparing the dear for consumption. Whenever it was sufficiently skinned, he used his axe to sever half of it and then left that for Stryke to eat. "Is it a beast like Stryke?"
"I tell you what. You don't call me a child, I don't call you something you don't like. I'm pretty sure I can find one that would irritate you."
Wayfarer raises his hands in a placating gesture. "No offense was intended--it is simply the literal translation of the elvish word for your people. It is a reflection of your people's strong connection to earth and stone, and is a title of significant respect."
"Besides," he shrugs, "I do not know your given name, traveler. What would you prefer to be called?"
"Yup that was my Harley. I've had her for a long time now, did most of the work toward getting her fixed up properly myself."
Wayfarer smiles, amused by Cassandra's obvious pride in her work. "Ah, so you are a mechanic? Most excellent. I have studied engineering myself, though it has been...a very long time since I have done anything practical with it."
"I look forward to seeing it! It is rare to find a working vehicle these days. I imagine fuel must be very hard to come by..."
As the older looking elven man finishes his request of Khazad, he swallows his food and clears his throat to answer, but just then Baird walks through the door carrying a rather impressive piece of game. Laughing, Khazad responds.
"Looks like bear fella' over here was a couple a' steps ahead a' both of us. Shoulda waited for my meal I guess."
As the party spoke amongst themselves, Khazad finishes up his meal and stands, sliding his chair across the wooden floor once again (the scraping noise not getting any less irritating than before). Dusting himself off, he addresses Oxana.
"Actually, I figured once y'all had yer fill, we'd be off. Nashville just a short walk aways, but I think we'd be better off if we can get there n' back before nightfall. Figured y'all'd have questions for me in the meantime.
Finally, after a moment, he addresses Cassandra.
"Ah, you got a bike? Bet a mighty lot a' people want to get their hands on it. It's a shame we don't all have one, it'd make the trip a helluva lot faster."
"Nah, I don't have any questions for right now," The dwarf says, looking over at the others. "And my name's Oxana. Try not to forget it."
The dwarf looks ready to get going as soon as possible now, waiting on the others to finish up with her battered rifle slung over one shoulder
"Actually, I figured once y'all had yer fill, we'd be off. Nashville just a short walk aways, but I think we'd be better off if we can get there n' back before nightfall. Figured y'all'd have questions for me in the meantime."
Wayfarer is obviously surprised. "It's that close? Then yes, I would also like to leave as soon as we can. I am not fond of travelling at night."
"Can you fill us in on anything we need to know once we're on the road, Morunghul?"
""And my name's Oxana. Try not to forget it."
Wayfarer nods. "Duly noted," he says, smiling politely. Not much of a morning person, I see. I'll have to keep that in mind.
"yup, I've loved tinkering with machines ever since I first got tha chance to give it a while, I've had Harley for a rather long time now, fuel CAN be a bit of a problem but I've learned a few ways to ease it and occasionally I'll find someone who'll part with somne fuel for a reasonable price." Cassandra said with a shrug, at present thankfully fuel was not exactly a major concern she had more than enough to last a month and it was rare that it would take more than a month to get more even if only a few days worth. Cassandra chuckled as Baired appeared to be far less knowledgeable of vehicles than Wayfarer confusing the talk of Harley for talk of an animal like Stryke
"Well I supposr Harley IS a bit of a beast, but not quite the same as Stryke, you'll get to see her whenever we decide to set out." Cassandra said with a laugh wondering how he would react to what Harley actually was if he truly lacked knowledge of vehicles.
With that Kazad chimed in suggesting that once they had eaten it would be a good time to head out and mentioning that Tennesee was not even poarticularly far away an ideal notion as it would mean little travel and hopefully speedy retrieval of the loot. "Yeah I've had quite a few people try there hand at trying to take Harley." Cassandra said and with that her claws would pop out "But nobody's quite managed to be up to the task" said with a grin "It is unfortunate that we dont all have bikes but at the very least I can use the speed HArley gives me to scout ahead a bit, I've got a few ways to keep Harley quiet enough that I shouldent even be noticed if we do figure I should scout ahead."
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Saturday had only nodded and grunted when he'd been addressed. He didn't seem to be a morning person.
He'd come down stairs with three young ladies who he'd walked to the door and said goodbye to before joining the others. Clearly he'd had a night to remember.
In the light of day his fancy clothes seemed a bit more tattered and his scars looked a bit less exotic and more like he'd been through hell.
Gone was the consummate carouser. In his place was a somber, introspective man who quietly ate his breakfast while shuffling an odd, old deck of cards with one hand.
He flipped three cards out in front of him in quick succession.
Death.
The nine of swords.
The fool.
He rolled his eyes and swept them up.
"You are no help at all." He muttered to the deck.
As he finished eating, Khazad addressed the elf first.
"What you'll need to know once we hit the road? You look like you've been around the block a time 'er two. Between here and Nashville we could run into bandits, but it's a short trip. Running into them between here and what's supposta be a ghost town would be plain bad luck. Once we're there, we'll be looking for a big-ass building. That A-T building, tallest in the city. Well, people nowadays call it that. It's actually called the AT&T building, read that somewhere believe it or not."
As he finished up the last bite of his breakfast, the dwarf was next to receive his attention.
"Straight to the point. I like that. You an' me gon' be good friends."
Standing up and dusting himself off, Khazad tips his hat to the catfolk in the room. He seemed particularly impressed by her mechanical abilities assuming everything that she had said was true.
"That does sound mighty useful. Might have to get you to do that depending on what we're 'bout to deal with in Nashville."
"What you'll need to know once we hit the road? You look like you've been around the block a time 'er two. Between here and Nashville we could run into bandits, but it's a short trip. Running into them between here and what's supposta be a ghost town would be plain bad luck. Once we're there, we'll be looking for a big-ass building. That A-T building, tallest in the city. Well, people nowadays call it that. It's actually called the AT&T building, read that somewhere believe it or not."
Wayfarer listens carefully to Khazad, tapping the table with one long finger. "Sadly, Morunghul, it often seems as though bandits lurk around every corner these days. And bad luck...is more common than good."
The short-haired elf stands, nods to his companions, and slings his air rifle over his back. "We will be best off if we assume a high likelihood of bandit activity." He makes his way to the door. "That way, we will have the pleasure of being surprised if we are wrong," he says, smiling gently.
"I will meet you all outside. Thank you again for the breakfast, Baird." With that, Wayfarer leaves the common room behind in exchange for the warmth of the early morning sun.
AT&T Building? Hmm...I wonder if I can recall anything that might be of use? Wayfarer thinks, whistling softly to himself.
"Well, yeah. I mean, we don't have to stick around here to jaw about what's in Nashville, so let's get moving already," Oxana urges the others. "I want to see if they have a platypus in the city."
"What is a platypus?" Saturday asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I agree with the one called Oxana, let us get a move on," Baird said between mouthfuls of cooked venison. Stryke eyed the meat protectively as Baird offered some to his companions, even though he was still working on his half of the buck. "Now, now, friend, you'll have to share. They have to eat too you know, lest they collapse at our side on the battlefield!"
Fixing his boots and getting his hat readjusted on his head, Khazad slung his rifle over his should like he had the night before and headed for the door.
"Alright, fellas. Come along then."
Swinging open the door, he continued outside nodding toward the elf waiting out there. He lead the way out of town on the interstate, walking between the ruined cars and over the rubble - something you all are more than used to. Interstates were main paths between the big cities and even now they saw traffic (albeit foot traffic). The difference here being that rush hour didn't exactly exist. You'd be lucky to see another soul walking on the interstate in a day, or unlucky. Whatever the case may be.
It was early morning, just as you had planned, but the heat of Tennessee in Summer was already beginning to rear its head. The sky was clear and blue with no sign of clouds anywhere.