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Ambiance: The Path of the Righteous Man

The sun comes up on the second morning, a ruddy glow painting the overcast skies. Last goodbyes said around the campfire before midnight, everyone gathers their things and loads it onto the flatbed truck. Oliver has a makeshift seat rigged next to the comm server against the back of the truck cabin. The four hoverbikes rumble, ready for riders.

Nora walks out of the barn without preamble, carrying a makeshift device built atop a five-gallon petrol canister. She enters the front door of the house, its hinges squeak as it slams, wood on wood, behind her. Two minutes later, she walks out, a olive drab duffle bag slung over her shoulder instead. BOOM! The entire farmhouse goes up in flames behind her, the precarious outer walls collapsing inward, an inferno falling in on itself, into the basement below.


"Come on, let's go," she says coldly, mounting one of the sleek black bikes and testing the throttle.

(Please share final moments, and where you are (truck, bike) as we depart.)

... Taavi still drives the Greater Kumekhna flatbed truck, the location of Sheriff Skender's radio transmissions still triangulated and blinking on the map displayed on the dashboard, out across the badlands ahead of you.

It is almost noon when the oil derrick comes into view, the pumping platform that the mechanic back in Prudence mentioned to you.

"Keep on," says Nora's voice over the headsets, "Pumpjacks don't know a damn thing. But there's a bar a few more hours on where I bet they do."

Taavi notes the thunderheads still loom ahead of you, deciding at this point that they're likely unnatural. The rain has held off today, but the everpresent threat is looming. Both the pump rig or the bar are viable options, as is pushing on to cover as much ground as possible and get towards the blinking dot... with the badlands terrain, it's still likely another winding day or two ahead... faster if you push through the night.

(Discussion and decision on your way forward.)

Hansel mounts another of the grav cycles, after mounting a rifle scabbard to it, as well as rigging up some saddle bags (with a few power cells in each side), and tosses the duffle with the remaining power cells into the back of the truck. He revs the engine, glad he decided to go back down for these, they should come in handy. He nods at Nora. As the group starts out, he suggests We should set up a diamond formation with the bikes, with the truck in the center. The bikes can react faster. Bikes at 12, 3, 6, and 9., with whatever interval the terrain supports with line of sight.


Hnasel has no particular opinion on where to go next. A bar sounds good to him, though his experience with bars on this planet hasn't been the greatest.

Taavi says over comms, If Nora says we should ignore the pumpjacks, I'm inclined to follow her advice. But if anyone feels that stopping at the derrick is advisable, please say. He drives the truck along toward the bar.

Emile alights a bike. He's lost in his thoughts as he keeps a keen eye out for baddies on the horizon.

Notice [2d6]=12

Shadrach shakes his head as he toggles his comms. "If Nora says the rig is a bad idea, I'm inclined to listen. 'Sides, they're not going to welcome visitors, like as not.

"I'd suggest the bar. Mortal threats are easier to lick than what we're like to encounter in the wilds at night."

He flicks the ignition on the bike and sides it closer to the truck. "How's the boy doing, Nora?"

Taavi presses the left earpiece to his ear for distinct audio. Copy, Marshal Shadrach. But maybe just a little stop in at the derrick? Nora, you know better than we do. But just in case? We almost bypassed the... farm. And look what happened."

Taavi's got his hands on the wheel of the Greater Kunekhna truck bouncing along the road from the Whighte farm to the highway. The crew from Prudence rev and test grav bikes and accelerate to far ahead. Everybody blown up and shaken, that's the truth. He shakes his head and tries to focus and maneuver the bullet-shot old grav truck. "Objective is: Skender. Dead Sheriff Skender of Prudence. And his connection to Hrsak, the adrenaline-charged slasher in the bar. A devil and wolves connected cult. What were they called? No matter the name. The deeds will be announced by the victims along the way."

In comms: Lot of stuff going on, all. Skender and missing children. Petr. Radio tower, our original destination. Marshalls? Scout Nora?

Down to the Bottom

Nora slings a shotgun on her back and takes point on her gravcycle, leading the way, Taavi driving the flatbed truck behind with Oliver and Balygyr on the back with the rigged-up comm server. Balygyr puts on his high-tech metal headband and three drones launch from the truck bed, hovering above them as they go.

Hansel, Emile, and Shadrach fire up the other bikes. Emile, deep in thought, guards the rear. Hansel and Shadrach try to flank out to ride at the sides, but the narrow badland roads make that difficult with a hoverbike and impossible if they had wheels. Hovering over the rocky ground and cliffs sometimes forces the pair into single file before and behind the truck as they wind their way through the cliffs and bluffs of the landscape.

"Lot of stuff going on, all. Skender and missing children. Petr. Radio tower, our original destination. Marshalls? Scout Nora?" says Taavi over the comms, drawing the others into conversation. The group decides to bypass the pumpjacks and head straight on to the bar.

Heading out of the valley of Whighte Farm, you realize you must be following the trail that Petyr walked. Every 150 meters or so is a dead steer, papery flesh over black, decayed innards and bones... it looks like each has laid here all winter and not just two days. As you reach the edge of the valley, the trail stops. Hansel recognizes the situation as he observes and puts together the clues - the discarded canvas, tire tracks, the end of the dead cattle. "Looks like he sucked the life out of 'em... and got here, to where he had his getaway truck." He considers. "No... it's a car. A damn nice car, for the badlands. And there, that looks like the rags left of his suit, cast on that bush." There is a moment of silence, the grim reminder that Petyr escaped... whatever he is now.

Nora revs her throttle abruptly and peels out, the rest following behind as she heads deeper into the badlands.

"How's the boy doing, Nora?" tries Shadrach over comms, but there's no answer. Her bike just speeds up a bit more, racing through the desolate landscape.

"How are you doing, Oliver? "Ever been out this way?" asks Balygyr of the boy as they sit on the truck.

Oliver shrugs focused on tinkering with the hand radio he is holding, despite the shaking of the truck bed beneath them. "I've never left the valley.
Not ever. Grandpa didn't allow it. Too risky, he said. Don't know that mom ever did either... but she always had a grudge on that bar. She get mad if anyone mentioned it."

Emile keeps to himself at the rear, keeping an eye out. He wonders how the valley-cattle and roaming bison will get on, now that the fences are done. There's goats watching from the cliffs, varmints popping their heads out of ground holes at the noise and then disappearing. Nothing threatens, which he's glad for. Strange, though, as dusk comes on, there's nothing alive around here at all anymore. Just scrag-grass and striped, eroded stone cliffs.

As dusk falls, the bar is apparent. In the absolute dark of the overcast night, the neon, fully-lit road sign on an 80-foot pole is visible from miles away... cracked and broken but otherwise wide, fat highways intersecting near it.


You pull up in a parking lot big enough to house all the cars of Prudence three times over, a desolate concrete sheet cracked and now pocked with young trees that pushed through from beneath. The remains of a fill station, long since stripped of pumps and parts, mark the near corner. The "bar" is brightly lit at the back edge, now having spread out to take over the whole wing of a strip mall. It is lined in glowing lights, illuminating 200 meters of empty concrete in every direction, about a dozen cars parked outside. At the right end are the open bays of a mechanic, also still lit but not as garishly or invitingly.

Balygyr's drones, taking a loop overhead, identify that this parking lot is nestled on the edge of a plateau, a drop making egress out the rear impossible - security provided by the natural features. There is enough room for a rough access road around the building, he notes, and that the road drops to a floor below the building itself, a few closed garage bay doors closed in the darkness there. The valley floor is another 50 meters below that on the other side.

Nora turns off her bike and dismounts. "Oliver, you stay here," she calls backwards, then starts walking towards the front door.

Shadrach watches as Nora strides away, his eyes slightly wide and his mouth hanging open. He clamps it shut and his jaw tightens, and the neon light washes over his grizzled features as he looks from Nora to her son and back again. Finally, he shakes his head and strides over to the boy. As he does, he mutters quietly, "your mother's gonna kill me..."

As he reaches the boy, he lays a friendly hand on Oliver's shoulder. "C'mon, we're not leaving you out here. Ever shot pool before? If not, I'll teach you." He gently but firmly guides the boy toward to door. To the others he says "Keep your eyes open. She ain't takin' this particularly well, even considerin'. An' if she blames this bar or its patrons, this could get ugly fast."

He stops halfway across the cracked concrete under a Joshua tree that's forced its way through the slab. "Wait a moment, boy," he tells Oliver, and drops to his knees. He mutters under his breath, a harsh, discordant series of syllables that don't sound like a human tongue.

Shadrach:

Hansel hurries to catch up with Nora, making sure his pistols are accessible in their holsters. What are we walking in on, what is our plan? he asks as he pulls even.

Under the spindly shade of the Joshua tree, Shadrach stops speaking and draws his combat knife. He draws it quickly across his left forearm. The knife is sharp and the cut is clean; it doesn't even begin bleeding for a few moments.

summoning damage: [1d4]=4

The faint shadows of the branches seem to thicken as the blood starts to drip off his arm, sizzling as the droplets hit the hot concrete. The shadows swirl, smoke-like, around him, and begin to coalesce around his arm, slowly taking the form of a large hound, lapping at the wound. The warrior starts to push the creature away but it resists; as he struggles with the amorphous form it seems to grow stronger as he weakens.

With a final effort he pushes the hellhound back. "Enough!" He glares at the servitor as he pulls out a bandage and rips it open with his teeth, applying it to the wound with practiced motions. "Go, hide in the shadows and small angles 'til I call for you."

He staggers to his feet. "Gangleri, you sure? Might be safer inside."

Taavi kills the truck's engine. Before getting out, he narrows his eyelids and unfocuses his eyes. His mind moves forward around five minutes into the future and he observes.
He gets out, and hands the key fob to Baleygr. Why not sit inside, Marshall Baleygr? That way you can lock the doors and have some protection, if something comes up. I'm taking my compad, let me know if you suspect something even might be up. Better yet, could you text me an update around every minute? X for "All clear," A for "Alert." He takes the safety off of the laser pistol under his jacket and follows the others into the bar.

redwarrior wrote: ↑Fri Dec 31, 2021 3:50 am Hansel hurries to catch up with Nora, making sure his pistols are accessible in their holsters. What are we walking in on, what is our plan? he asks as he pulls even.

Hansel catches up with Nora just before the door.

"It's a bar, and I'm getting a drink." He doesn't need his keen intuition to know that her words are tense and she's not saying all she is thinking. Nor does she slow her stride.

Looking for a post for Emile, then I'll move this forward. Anything else for outside, or before the bar doors?

Emile scans the parking area one more time before following the others into the establishment.
Notice [2d6]=7

Apologies for slow posting.

Hansel shrugs his shoulders and lets her stride carry her ahead of him. He quietly mutters I'd like just one bar without the barfight. He's expecting her to slam through the door and gather attention as she approaches the bar. Since she's clearly going to do that anyway, maybe he can benefit from the relative anonymity of sliding in AFTER she slams the door.