Riven cracks a tight smile at Jaxx's comments, which is more emotion than he typically shows outside of battle.  He moves like a coiled snake, smoothly but ready at any moment if things turn ugly.  He addresses Garlain, "I'll keep an eye on your back from here.  If I see any trouble, I'll whistle and head your way."   And to the rest of the group he says, "Well we certainly make a Motley Crue."

"I am for the Council of the Green myself...but I might be a little slanted that way." Treeborn points out. "The only thing Cindy tells me about the New Dawn aka the Seekers is that they don't much care for tech." 

Garlain leads the group into the milling crowd of humans, mutants, and created to go deeper into what's available. As everyone does, there are more Cryptic Alliances trying to make their mark on the compound. A group of mutated humans calling themselves The Iron Society talk about the genocide of the KGP. Then there is a group who are worshiping an old terminal. One of their members walks up to any and everyone saying, "Hear the words of the Machine! It tells us to give everyone their space before we can continue in life. Do not force others for that stops your continuance. The Machine knows all and speaks to us if you have but the ears to hear it."

The message on the screen reads, "Press Space Bar to continue."

Each Cryptic Alliance offers extra coin and sponsorship if they join their Alliance, though they do advertise items they are looking for specifically to anyone who wishes to sell.

The Knights of Genetic Purity, The Ranks of the Fit, and The Iron Society all offer top coin for technological weapons and armor. The Seekers sell food and other provisions and will take any ancient artifact to be destroyed while the Restorationists will take anything ancient, even if its already broken, in exchange for other functioning items. The Followers of the Voice, those worshiping the terminal, offer money for any functioning display items, while the Created offer money for leads to robots or automatons that they can then repair. The Peace Brigade is looking for any building materials while the Radioactivists are looking for, obviously, sources of radiation, aka the Glow. For specific tasks, one must either join the Alliance or at least seem interested in joining.

It seems that the only neutral party here that isn't trying to buy things are pairs of beings of all shapes and sizes. They walk about well armed and move quickly to break up any fights. These looks to be a part of the Brotherhood of Thought, a pacifistic group that seem charged with keeping the peace.

Garlain snorted, "I say we keep our heads down for now. We go in and do what we feel comfortable with then see about loot and salvage... then we can decide who to trade to when we have the goods. I don't like debt trading. Fanatics might give us fuss but from another angle it is just more salvage..."

"Absolutely," Baskia agreed with Garlain and took a step forward, her suspended leg no longer suspended.  "I trust you, my friend." she told Garlain, and then gestured to the rest of the group, "and all of you, more than any dogma or other group."  She knew (most of) them much better than any of the others.

She took up a position near the scavenger and the Ysoki, showing she was ready, "Let's try to register then on our own.  It would seem to me that aligning ourselves ahead of time, would be randomly imprudent."  They might know some rumors about the groups assembled, but honestly, how they acted in the mountain would be the true evidence of which deserved to be parleyed with (if any - and assuming they survived).

"Salvage? No problem. Collecting salvage, tinkering with it to improve its value and then selling it is how I've gotten by all my life, after all. I made Gerald in a cave! With a box of scraps! Not that I could ever sell him... he only listens to me, after all." He patted Gerald on the flank, then after a moment, said, "Anyway, I agree. Let's not bind ourselves to any factions just yet... So, we just go in, then? I've never fought beside you guys, perhaps some discussion of our specialties so we know who to place where when trouble starts? Besides fixing and inventing things, I can shoot, I can do a bit of first aid, though not reliably in combat, and I know a bit about magic and engineering, though, obviously, I don't do magic myself. And of course, Gerald's horns and sting aren't for decoration, and if the worst should happen to him..." he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper "I can rebuild him. If one of you needs a flanking partner, he's your... um... scorpion-goat."

In reply to Baskia Primavera (msg # 23):

Treeborn taps Baskia on the shoulder. "Ummm...it seems to me most of them ether want tech or hate it. Should we be worried about our metal friend here?" The plant man says to the others.

Riven listens thoughtfully as the group weighs in, and nods his head in agreement.

"Indeed, we should keep our wits about us," Riven says, "And I agree that we should not align ourselves to any group at this stage.   Let us try to remain independent, and see how things develop.   We may find it beneficial to align ourselves later, so we can keep that option open."

There is a bit of a mechanical chuckle and Baskia quipped, "I worry about being the mechanical one of the group all the time!  Fancy that!"

But the burnished titanium automaton got more serious, "There a plenty of haters out there.  With plenty of reasons to hate, justified or not.  But, we can't give in to them or their feelings."  She paused and looked up at Treeborn,  "I promise to the keep them from burning you, if you can keep them from smashing me." adding for the entire group, "We just have to watch each other's backs and we'll be fine."

"We do that." Baskia added, a touch of wistfulness in her synthetic voice, "And we'll make a mint..."

Garlain nodded patting his pack for emphasis, "I'm a fair shot but my Trusty Shovel^TM is most useful I suppose... more to the point I travel, notice, and I know things. I try to be prepared for things but that doesn't always work out. I've replaced minor parts in Baskia and I expect that if more fools try to steal her away they too will learn that it isn't only organic women's no's that mean no. I can be pretty sneaky when the situation calls for it."

"Baskia, my shiny friend,", Jaxx says as he looks up at Baskia, [Private to Baskia Primavera: Revealing that, under his broad hat, his lidless eyes are made of glowing green crystal, and parts of his neck are organic metal, though the rest of him seems to be normal for an Ysoki. The light in one eye dims as a sort of "wink,"] "stay near me in a fight, and I'll blast any who get too close to either of us. Just... not too near me. Wouldn't want to make ourselves easy targets for grenadiers! Ooh! I should learn to make grenades!"

As the party continues to walk around, and are once free of the main area where all the Alliances have set up camp, they walk into another rough area that is filled with merchants of all stripes. Every adventuring and mining equipment you can think of is on display from weapons and armor to alchemical potions and minor technological items with the merchants just as varied as the crowd they just left. These merchants run the gambit of large well painted wagons to a dude walking around with a single item in his hand. Hockers call out, peddling various food stuffs. Some of the larger wagons also have a tent or a lean to behind them where their spouse and children are working or making things or cooking the next meal.

Beyond this area is the largest open spot where various companies of adventurers have set up places to rest and recuperate before or after their dungeon dive. In this area is where the Claim Minister is set up where everyone gets their assigned area to explore.

Garlain might normally bother watching the whole of parties to see who stares and judge malice or skulduggery but this time... as he planned to start right away he moved directly for the Claim Minister. "Hello there! We were hoping to make a claim and start exploring for salvage. I just wanted to be clear first... are we the only team with rights to our area and how close are areas to other teams? Are there rules and just how can you enforce them?"

That and where they need to go were all he really cared to know. There might be little to no call to defend from other groups directly... which would happily minimize the need for killing folks from around here. He disliked it but if it proved necessary he had survived this long.

Garlain speaks to a middle aged man dressed in chain mail armor and notices a pin with the crossed shovel and sword symbol of the Peace Brigade. He smiles and listened to his questions. "That depends," he says, "If you pay 10 silver, the plot is exclusively yours and is generally a small area, but if you wish to not pay for a plot, then we have a larger area that's open to whoever wishes to go in. Each area differs in distance from others, but few would challenge your claim once you show your writ. The Peace Brigade will also offer to guard the entryway to your claim for a single silver a day. There are other groups that also offer protection at better rates, but we have the history to guarantee your plot will be safe." As he talks, your eyes are drawn to an ancient pistol at his hip that has a small blue blinking light on it. He also has a well taken care of blade at his other hip.

OCC: To keep this moving, everyone knows that the Peace Brigade is a no nonsense splinter group of the Restorationists where they take a more active roll in pushing humanity towards reclaiming it's former glory. Some of their group will use strong arm tactics to make progress happen, but they don't actively attack anyone physically unless they themselves are attack. Few survive the retaliation as they are generally better armed and armored than the average wastelander.

Riven approached Garlain and the Claim Minister just as the latter had started speaking, and nodded intently as the arrangements were discussed.

"Has there been any trouble so far?    Everyone behaving themselves?" he asks.

The quest giver sighs, "The Knights, the Fit, and the Bons have been a pain in our collective hindquarters with their neither measuring contests. Each group is always trying to goad the other into a fight and thus get the other removed. It's gotten down right petty at this point, but they haven't actually broken any rules. The Programmers and the Restorationists are more subtle in their undermining of each other, but it seems to be more of a game then actual open hostility. Otherwise it's been cordial. Everyone seems to respect each other's claim."

Jaxx's surreptitious gesture to his headgear elicited a light chuckle from Baskia, the tinny vocoder's speaker rumbling.

Following on Riven and Garlain's heels, Baskia beckoned for the others to follow, "No time like the present to start..."  After quickly tamping out any embers from their campfire and surveying that everything was picked up from the site, the titanium-skinned automaton trundled along behind her companions.

As the quest giver related the passive-aggressive antics of the various societies, Baskia started a collection for site fee.  She doesn't press any of the other members, but seemed to expect only a couple of silvers each and looked to total about seventeen silvers to get them a week of guarding as well.  She passed the seventeen silvers worth of coins to Garlain.

Following along, Jaxx hands Baskia four silver, but keeps his paw in his purse in case anyone else comes up short.

Garlain reaches into his purse, and after fishing around for a few moments he smiled and handed the Peace-man the collective mass of coin. "We think we would be well served with a zoned claim and the Peace Brigade's warding. A place we might call a base to return to that isn't all the way here.

Is there a list of these rules? It seems like instigating a fight, or being caught at it, is against the rules. I assume there are more."

Despite the messages of unity and calm, Treeborn was not sure about Baskia's safety. Half the people here wanted all tech destroyed, and the other half wanted to use tech for thier own purposes. Bad news if one was made of the stuff.

He made sure to stand closer to her. Making sure anyone getting dumb ideas in their meat heads would have to deal with an angry tree. Of course, he was not great at expressions. He never got the 'angry face' perfectly right...

He finally realized everyone else was handing over money, so he reached into a opening into what passed as an torso. He quickly handed over 3 coins, wondering if that would be enough. He never got that money thing 100% right either...
This message was last edited by the player at 18:29, Mon 25 Sept 2023.

As Baskia made her rounds, Riven gladly handed over 4 silver coins.

"The only rules are: No fighting in the Grand Room and no claim jumping on purchased plots. We have heard rumors that some nefarious people who will kill an entire group on a claimed plot, but, without a surviving claimant, we have no way to verify who's who. There's just too many people here to keep it all straight which is why purchasing a guard is such a good idea. The guards will know who you are and stop anyone else from entering without one of your group escorting them. There are also people who will help clear collapsed areas and carry goods to the Grand Room for sale. Usually they charge a copper an hour and maybe more dependent on what's got to be done."

Baskia seemed eager to start, her golden eyes quivering with excitement.  "Let's kick some tires and light the fires!" she announced with gusto, "Where do we sign?"

The titanium-skinned automaton definitely seemed to think that doing something was better than doing nothing.  Exploring with friends always seemed to put her in a good mood.  "Boys," Baskia noted off-hand, "I've got a good feeling about this."  It might be a bit corny, but she hoped that her positive attitude was infectious.

"As do I, Baskia. Delving into the unknown, finding undiscovered stuff, tinkering with it, and hopefully not being blown up, what could be better, right, Gerald?" Jaxx said, and patted Gerald on the flank.

Gerald, as always, failed to respond, which was very reassuring to Jaxx.

This thread is now closed.