Prelude: The Contract
Filthy, parched, exhausted, Jana approached the ramshackle nomad bazaar with hope and trepidation. The journey had taken two days, about half of which was atop a mule, the other half on foot after abandoning the mule to a hive of screechers to which she’d wandered too close. It made a meal for them, and a distraction for her to get away. Thankfully. Her rifle had only sixteen rounds, all that was left from what her settlement could spare, and it was doubtful it would have been enough if the screechers had come after her. She shuttered, sighed, and continued approaching her objective.
The bazaar was a collection of vehicles and small portable structures, nestled up close against one another and connected by tangles of ropes, tarps, wires, and tubes such that it seemed to have all grown together like some mutant junk beast. However, if presented with a significant and insurmountable threat, the whole thing could be pulled apart, wrapped up, and driven off to a new destination.
A rumble in the distance served as a reminder of just one such danger. Lightning flashed somewhere far off over the hills, and a dark thunderhead swirled out on the edge of the horizon. Clouds and haze mostly obscured a form moving along with the clouds, the silhouette of something impossibly large. Not this way, to the fortune of all nearby. She couldn’t tell if it was thunder that echoed across the plain, or footsteps.
A turret atop one of the vehicles that made up the bazaar swiveled her way, though the gun didn’t seem to aim directly at her. Jana gulped and continued walking. She spotted several other vehicles and mounts surrounding the bazaar. Visitors, it seemed, utilizing the place as the way-station, trade depot, fuel stop, sanctuary, and road house it was meant to be. Several motorbikes were parked next to a pair of horses, of all things. The animals were easily more valuable and expensive to maintain than the bikes. A jeep, a couple buggies, and some sort of utilitarian truck also surrounded the bazaar. One one side she spotted a pair of metal mounts, with armor and heraldry that marked the pickup trucks as clearly belonging to Knights of Ford. A squire attended them, polishing a long lance that hung off the side of one, next to a mean-looking machine gun. On the other side of the bazaar stood another vehicle, big and brutish. All armor atop massive treads, with a huge gun barrel protruding out of a turret on top. They called it a tank. A few distant figures were busy working near it. This was Jana’s true target, but she was hungry, thirsty, tired, and needed a brief respite.
“Welcome, stranger,” a voice called out as Jana drew near. A figure leaned out from atop the turret on the guard post, which seemed to be a platform atop scaffolding sticking out of a small trailer, a mounted gun on top. The thin man with a thin beard that addressed her didn’t seem highly wary of her. Jana knew she didn’t cut a very threatening figure, and the heavy artillery up there was meant for raiding parties or monsters. The man himself had a hunting rifle propped against a shoulder. “You look like you could use a drink. The cantina is that way. We have supplies for trade, if you’ve anything worthwhile. Not much in the way of handouts here, and you best keep your piece well stowed.”
Jana nodded, “I could use that drink. And something to eat. I got some shinies for trade, and I’m looking for a safe haven, not a fight.”
“Things can get rowdy ‘round here with the characters we get, but anyone who breaks the rules ain’t welcome back.” He pointed to a posting attached to the scaffolding under him, with a few written rules accompanied by iconography for those that couldn’t read. Jana could. A little.
She nodded to the guard, and walked into the bazaar. A drunk man, looking rather wretched and possibly a mutant, was slumped against the wheel well of one vehicle/structure. He barely looked up as Jana passed. She nearly jumped when an old woman hawked her wares in a raspy voice, and Jana took a glance at the table where small tools, trinkets, and accessories had been hewn from scrap metal.
Moving on, the sound of carousing caught her attention, and the smell of cooking meat captured her nose and dragged her forward. The source of the meat was something many wastelanders had stopped being picky about generations ago, though the quality did vary depending on where one settled or traveled. Greenwood, where Jana hailed from, was actually prosperous when it came to food, and her stomach and palette were used to goats and pigs. But her hunger was such that when she saw the charcoal-scrawled menu outside the cantina advertising roachburgers, tacos ratos, and fried crow, she didn’t exactly turn up her nose. To their credit they also seemed to have bison steaks, but no doubt it would be too expensive for what Jana had to spare.
She opened the door to a long steel tube on wheels. Adorned with decorations and signage and windows, it served as the cantina. The smell of cooking food was stronger inside, as were the heady fumes of distilled drinks and unwashed bodies. Electric lights lit the interior, and power was even spent on an ancient music device playing scratchy songs from before.
She found the proprietor easily enough behind a bar setup, and had him bring her a skewer of the meat special from the grill, a liter of thrice-filtered rainwater, and a shot of some milky-clear, hard-edged liquor. Jana unrolled a wide strip of leather which bound up some of her small trading valuables to show the barman, and he nodded in acceptance at a quick glance. There was enough there they could make a trade, the specifics could be figured out after. She wolfed down the skewer of meat, slammed the shot, and chased it all with a sip of the chill water before refilling her water bottle with the rest. The clanking of metal caught her ear.
She turned, and a man was sauntering up to her. A broad-brimmed sat perched atop his head and a red-brown beard framed his face. The clanking was on account of the armor he wore. It wasn’t like some full medieval suit like in the story books, but it did seem like an uncomfortable amount of steel plates covering thighs, chest, shoulders, and arms. A sword dangled from one hip, and a pistol was holstered at the other. It was an easy connection to make with the trucks out front of the bazaar, and a crest on his breastplate verified: A Knight of Ford, in the metal-plated flesh.
“Afternoon ma’am,” he drawled as he walked up to the bar, “You’re a little thing to be out on your own. Can we offer you any assistance?” He doffed his hat and dipped his head slightly.
It was an idea, trying to use the Knights, and one the town elders had discussed. But there were plenty of drawbacks to that plan, and to the order itself. “My thanks, good sir,” she said, knowing enough about their preferred customs and fragile egos to use proper etiquette, “but I’m doing just fine. Too little for most to notice, you see.” She followed it up with what she hoped was a winning smile, and too late her tongue felt a little bit of mystery gristle between her teeth from that skewer.
“Suit yourself, but it's a dangerous world out there” he said with a skeptical look, then had the barkeep fetch him a watery-looking beer before heading back to a table with two other knights.
Jana didn’t miss the hard look he gave to another table as he passed, one filled with an eclectic group of wastelanders. They had a hard look to them, no strangers to the dangers of the waste, clearly. But grimy and grease-stained as many of them were, they didn’t quite have the look of scavengers or bandits either. Jana had a feeling these were the people she sought. They were just getting up from their table, and left a generous lot of shinies behind for whatever they’d been consuming. Jana beckoned the barkeep over and bartered for the meal and drink, thinking it likely she got the short end of the trade in her rush. She hefted her rifle over her shoulder more securely, and exited the cantina in pursuit of the crew.
It wasn’t difficult to follow them, and easier still that she was correct in where they were headed. She weaved around some barrels and mechanical detritus, stepping past the vague perimeter of the bazaar, and approached the group who had gone back to their tank.
Up close, the beast of a machine was even more intimidating. Battle-scarred but well cared for, it was a massive bulk of impenetrable-looking metal. Smaller barrels poked out of the sides, ready to spit death onto any lesser assaulters, and dangerous looking mechanisms jutted from the top that looked plenty deadly in their own right though she wasn’t sure exactly what they did. The big cannon was obvious though, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she could fit her whole head into the orifice, were she insane enough to do so.
The crew had noticed her, and a few were forming up a loose semi-circle as she approached while others stayed busy with whatever mechanical endeavors they were working on. They were an intimidating bunch, carrying all manner of weapons, and having the scars to prove they’d been on the receiving end of weapons in their own right. At least one seemed to be a mutant, maybe others. As scary as they were, they seemed to be waiting for her to make known why she’d ended up among them.
Here goes nothing. “Uh, well met,” she began, stumbling a bit over her words. She was met with a few inclined heads and returned greetings. Even a smile. She continued, “My name is Jana, and I’ve come looking for you on behalf of my town. Word has spread that you and your tank can face just about anything the wastes have to offer, and that is the kind of help we need. Uh, ‘we’ being the town of Greenwood. Well, not the whole town exactly. We have our troubles, but that’s not why we need you. A few of us… we want to get to Athens Station down south a ways. Heard of it? Probably have. My uncle of mine lives way out west, like, all the way west, and we want to bring something important to him. We hear they got a train running from Athens all the way out there, or most of it anyway. That’s not as important though… the main thing is we need to get to Athens, it’s real real dangerous, and we want to hire you to get us there safely. Me, my ma, my brother, and our vehicle. The town is well off, we can offer a good price in fuel, food, parts, or whatever we can figure. What do you say?”
She took a deep breath, she had got it all out. They asked her some questions, then huddled up to consider. It wasn’t very long. They came back to her.
“You have a deal. Get some rest. We leave first thing in the morning.”
OOC
This in not up for official roleplaying or anything yet, but I wanted to get up a little in-character scene to give you an idea where things starting, and some flavor of the world. Also, starting to figure out some good formatting for posts. If it helps to ground any of your background (I know this isn't very dense with lore), there you do.
When the game begins, you'll be in transit with Jana back to her town. I may open up this prelude scene as we put finishing touches on characters once players are selected to do a little IC interacting.