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Society of Graverobbers radio frequency

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Evan:
Loud, primal roars shattered the silence in the Wasteland morning near the camp that was once called 'Outpost 486' by some long forgotten ancestors. Pinky woke from her dream that she had about the strange grownups that allowed her to stay in their safe haven for her certain... skills. They even named her 'doctor' for the precision she can slice one's pocket with a scapel. The sound was close. Definitely human, but unintelligible. The morning was chilling, so Pinky grabbed a brahmin-hide from the nest she was sleeping in, and ran to the gate to alert the guards - or see if they are still alive.

She saw Eutropio, the skinny hispanian guy at his campfire, seemingly asleep, but grilling gecko on stick, bending his head on his rifle. Pinky never adressed the guy before, but she had no choice. 'Mister! Hey mister, wake up!' she yelled.
The welcoming glance was surprisingly calm. 'Hola child. It's all right. Did the roar wake you? You shouldn't worry about it. Come, sit here, get warm, have some food. Smells good, ehh?' Eutropio didn't move a muscle until the girl settled, than he gave her the gecko meat. 'It's one of us. You probably didn't see him yet. An aged hairy giant in rugs, rings a bell? He's from some slaughtered cannibalistic tribe. He camps nearby, but he only comes into the outpost when he finds something that he deems useful. For us. Some named him Horrendum a while ago, thou he could never have remembered a word that long.'
Pinky was chewing on the smelly meal. 'But why does he roars? Isn't there some danger out there?'
Eutropio lit a cigarette, and continued. 'There certainly is, but he can handle it. So do we. But if you are really interested, you came to the right person - I did speak to that monstrum before. Most Graverobbers don't even know he can talk. So. I know his secret. He wakes the Sun.'
'What, with that shouting?' asked Pinky looking at the guy, almost laughing.
'Certainly my child. It did wake you too, didn't it?'
'So he does that every morning?'
'Every morning since more winters than anyone could count. He might be older than anyone else I know.'
The girl was surprised. 'This is silly. The sun just wakes up.'
Eutropio swallowed a grin. 'How can you be so sure? He was doing that shouting way before you born.'
'And before he was born?'
'There were others before him.' said the hispanian 'His father thought him the incantation before he died.'
Pinky was amazed. 'And what if he dies too? You said he's old.'
Eutropio threw the cigaterre into the campfire, and looked on the sunset. 'Than the sun might just never rise again.'

Look:


It's been a while since Lector returned to the base, two weeks almost. He was wandering around junkyard looking for a final piece on the list that Sang gave him. Tough times he thought to himself, got to walk trough whole desert once I get this thing. The search was hard and long, it was first time he had to shoot at people who didn't attack him, he stayed out of cities and took out only those who couldn't spot him. Life in a wasteland is harsh...you can't survive by making friends. The piece was hiding in the old truck buried under couple of regular car metal skeletons, but he managed to find it with a help of the owner, couple of caps do magic to the merchants, its their food...a treat they are always hungry for. He knew it would take him too long to go back to the base again on his own, water and food supplies were enough for 3 days, to walk trough the whole desert and to come to outpost would take more then a week. He did only thing he could do, went to the first abandon place he found and searched for some old electronic junk, then he made a radio.

"Lector here, outpost do you hear me?".
"Loud and clear, is the mission done ?".
"Affirmative, I'll need a pick up, out of caps, out of food, out of water almost".
"Got it, we'll prepare the car trough an hour, send us a singal on 10 seconds, we'll map it, then switch off all communications until we come, make undercover camp".
"Signaling....see you soon". Lector replied and went to area that is covered with trees so he would be a harder target to track or kill.

He was examining plans that Renfield gave him, Sang's plan seemed like an great idea, finally something original in this god forsaken land of ours. "At least we can build a machinery strong enough to get this thing running, I hope other have returned from their search as well" he mumbled to himself.The product looked like an piece of art, he only hoped it will be dangerous as much as it looks.

Evan:
Welding lights a small corner of the Colby Loop cave, the smell of melting metal overwhelms the odor of tanned hides and boiling Rot Gut. Tudor is so occupied with fixing the most advanced laser weaponry the Graverobbes could scavenge, that he doesn't notices the huge, hairy and ragged figure who enters the delve with a shapeless bag heavier than two brahmins could move. The aged giant drops the bag on the ground, the leather rips and junk trundles all over the floor with a resounding cacophony of klanks, pushing Tudor to the edge of hearth-attack.

Jesus you moron, you could have knocked or something! My nerves weren't prepared for that!

The figure hits the cave wall so hard that it would break the arm of most people, and could have even knocked a Deathclaw unconscious, than he growls softly as a mine collapes.

Easy big man, easy, don't take it personally. I appreciate your help, really. You really deserve the name Horrendum, do you.

The giant lets another, even softer growl go, one part of it is articulated enough to contain a comprehensible 'Horr'. He audibly clenches his blood tattered fist while the scientist crouches to examine the pile of metal on the floor.

Now let's see if there's a fuel cell controller in that pile. That's a... how to say... An engine that drinks booze. You know... Remember when I spent two hours of explaining that to you? That one. So here we have... A microwave oven. Half of a lamp post. A speed bump. A road-sign. That looks like some well. A garden grill. Ahh well... Seems all of it is crap. At least you understood that what I need is made of metal. I should have emphasized that it also should be taken from cars. Cars.

CAAR...

Yeah. Demon-horses. Dead demon-horses. You know the one like...

DEMON HOORSE... KILL... KILL DEMON HOORSE...

Horrendum turns and stars walking out of the cave. Tudor has to run to keep up with the leaps of the giant while screaming 'No no!' louder and louder before the beast rips a hummer apart. To attract his attention, he tries to hit the back of the huge man for a couple of times to realize how ineffective is that. As a last resort, the scientist runs ahead of the brute waving his hands like a madman. For a moment he thinks that that bag of hair and muscle will trample over him, but the huge man finally stops.

WHAAT.

You know Horr... Forget what I said. Thanks for the help. I got it now. I missed it for the first time. That pile is full of fuel cell controllers. I just had to look harder. Thanks. You did a great job. Tell me if you need something in return. Feel free to do whatever you normally do. You are the best.

The giant stares for seconds that Tudor feels to last hours.

GOOOD.

Horrendum pushes the egghead away, and walks out of the cave. Tudor drys the sweat from his forehead, and returns to his workbench, muttering about how hard is it to get a birthday present for that mentat-smelling speedfreak buffoon Sanguinetti.

Eternauta:
Jake had to run from one of those ugly centaurs and realized he got a bit too deep into the Boneyard ruins. He looked around, then up to the sky, and moving his eyes he checked the windows of some of the not so destroyed Old World buildings.

It looked like he was alone in that part of L.A., so he started to walk down one of the streets, with his SMG ready to shoot, but not really tense anymore.

He had not found much worth scavenging but when he was about to admit he felt frustrated, he saw a car wreck in a corner. He slowly walked there and looked for something to salvage from the old and broken vehicle, in which he found one of those chips that, according to some books Jake had read in the Followers' library, controlled the flow of power to the car's machines, "or some shit like that".

Jake picked up the controller, held it with both hands and contemplated it in silence. He knew that piece of pre War tech was not easy to find and it immediately made him remember that time when his brother decided to sell the last rare object he'd found to a new client from outside of the Boneyard.

He suddenly came back to his reality: he was alone in the middle of the ruins, where a pack of dogs or some mutated creature could appear from nowhere at anytime. He quickly put the controller in his bag and started to look for a way back to New Adytum.

He got back home way later than usual. He put his bag on the table and grabbed some jerky to fight his hunger.

It was hard for him to sleep that night until he finally decided to go to the outskirts of L.A. with a radio the next day, and try to contact some outsider to sell that fuel cell controller to, just like his brother had done before going to Shady Sands. After all, if he sold that at the salvagers' outpost, it was obvious that those annoying Regulators would find out and eventually take that controller for themselves.

tallset:
The night was darker than a casper's soul,not even a gunshot was heard in the night
The door was kicked swiftly, a set of metal doors swung open.

A man dressed in a leather jacket and pants walked out the door. The leather was torn from years of abuse.
He was wielding a Single Action Army revolver with a revolving cylinder holding six metallic cartridges.

Six bullets more than enough to kill a man, several belts of .357 bullets hung around his person.

 He had to find out who he was in his previous life. The only information he had to go off were several scars embedded on his chest.

In the distance was a man, a scarf covered a majority of his face. The mysterious man had a feeling he had something to do with his wretched existence.

The mysterious man inserted six .357 bullets into his revolver. The cylinder spun and then stopped, the click of the hammer was heard. 
    He muttered to him self "reloading like this never felt so exciting".



 


 

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