(Read the previous chapter here.)
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Scene 1 [Tension Lvl: 5]:
[Mile 3: Severe conditions, vehicle]
Remember the Angel? The car we passed a mile or so back that Nate couldn’t start? Well, it turned out it wouldn’t have been of much use anyway. We were maybe a mile past the houses when the entire highway became impassable, at least for vehicles. The asphalt wasn’t just severely torn up, it was blocked by a small commercial passenger plane, or what was left of it.
The plane must have been either shot down during the war or disabled in some other manner. Exactly what the pilot was trying to do was hard to determine as the aircraft appeared to be approaching the highway from a perpendicular direction. The aircraft lay across the eastbound lanes and a trail of torn-up asphalt, ground, and debris crossed the westbound lanes. If he was trying to land I would have expected the plane to be me lined up with the road.
Regardless, the plane didn’t survive. What remained was a black, burned-out carcass that had clearly been here for weeks. Nate climbed inside to search for anything useful. All he found was a bunch of charred human remains. [Is there anything salvageable on or around the plane? (Bad) No - No encounters]
[Mile 4: moderate conditions, structure What kind of structure? Impressive/Work]
Roughly a mile further down the road, as we neared the Columbia Hill overpass, we encountered the dragon.
“What is that?” Nathan gasped.
Up ahead, in the median between the east and west lanes, say an enormous grey stone statue of a dragon. The beast was facing us, crouched on its haunches, its long neck and head extended to survey the highway. Large wings were folded into its sides. Though unable to be seen from our current vantage point, I knew from past trips that its great tail lay curled on the ground behind it. For all the creature’s size and foreboding, it appeared to be grinning enigmatically.
“That,” I explained, “Is Smaug.”
“From the Lord of the Rings?”
“The Hobbit,” I corrected. Fantasy is not one of my favorite genres -- I prefer modern settings and characters I can relate to -- but of course everyone’s familiar with Tolkien. At least I thought so. “What you’re really asking, I suspect, is what is he doing here?”
“Yeah. You don’t often find giant statues on the interstate.”
“From what I’ve been told--this was before my time--it's a product of the ‘Great Highway Beautification’ project of 2050. My parents told me that Pennsylvania’s governor--well, the governor’s wife actually--made a push to clean up Interstate 80. It had grown neglected and she wanted it to be more welcoming to people traveling through the state. A source of pride that Pennsylvania takes care of its roads.
“The plan was to have businesses and organizations adopt and fix up different sections of the highway. Most of the participants simply manicured the landscaping and planted flowers and trees. Others partnered with the DOT to repair run-down sections of the road. Many of the overpasses were cleaned up, restored when necessary, and sometimes even painted with murals or other pleasing imagery.
“One artist, however, had a bigger vision. He saw the world as a place full of magic and wanted to bring some of that to the project. So he submitted his plans for this statue. As you can expect, the debate went on for weeks. Most people thought it whimsical and loved the idea. It might even become a landmark bringing people to the state. Others thought it was gaudy, not in line at all with the vision of the project, and would only invite vandalism, costing the state unnecessary dollars to clean up.”
“So, which side won out?”
I cast a side glance at Nate to see if he was really as dull-minded as his question appeared, however, the grin on his face assured me he was just being flippant.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” I asked as we stopped alongside the monster to admire the craftsmanship.
“Yes, it is. So are we going to meet up with some orcs or ents down the road.”
“Nope. This is the only one.”
After a few minutes, Nate and I continued our journey west.
[No encounters]
Scene 2 [Tension Level 5 (in the game, this began as part of the previous scene, so TL was still 5)]:
[Mile 5: moderate conditions, single building]
“It’s getting late. Perhaps we should begin looking for a place to hole up for the night?”
Despite it being only mid-afternoon and there were still several hours of sunlight left, I had to agree with Nate. It had been a long day and I wasn’t used to walking so far. Rest would do me good.
About ten minutes later we reached a place where the interstate crossed over a small local road. Poking over the trees, we could see the top of what might have been a barn.
“What about that?” I offered. “If it’s abandoned it would make a good shelter. If the residents are still around perhaps they’ll be willing to put us up for the night.”
“I prefer abandoned,” Nate said but agreed to give the place a look.
We left the interstate and tracked through the brush back to the smaller road we had just crossed over. Following it in the direction of the barn, we soon realized that it was more of a driveway than a road, as it ended in front of a house that stood east of the barn. Several other smaller outbuildings stood nearby and beyond the barn lay a wide-open field. Nate suggested we leave the road, circle around the barn, and see if we could find a window. [Not exactly a “single building,” but Google Maps showed a single homestead in the vicinity so I felt that was close enough.]
“Hopefully it’s empty,” he explained. “If so, even if there is someone still living in the house, we can probably sneak in and stay the night without them ever knowing.”
“You really aren’t very trusting, are you?”
“I’ve learned not to be. Trust me, you will too.”
Creeping around the side of the barn furthest away from the house we found a dirty window. I carefully wiped away some of the filth and looked in. To Nate’s dismay, the building was not abandoned. Inside was a man who appeared to be in his late 50’s to mid 60’s. His hair was gray and his beard was full but trimmed. He appeared to be poking around the engine of a large tractor. Hearing other voices I looked around and spotted a Flat Vision that was on and showing some sort of news broadcast. He must have it hooked up to a solar generator and network uplink.
Oh, yeah. One other thing. The man was a Mutee. Out of his right side, about midway between his shoulder and hip, protruded a third arm. While the arm appeared to be fully formed, the hand itself was deformed, having only three fat fingers, almost like a claw or talon.
[Is there anyone in the barn? (Bad) Yes. How many? d2=1 Male/Female (even/odd)=Male
Is the man a mutant? d2=2 Yes - Roll on Omega Lite tables: Mutation - 1 extra arm (1 extra attack or shield); Defect-crude arms (-4 with handheld weapons or manipulations, but only with extra hand)
What is the man doing? Deactivate/Deity]
“I wonder if he’s friendly?” I whispered to Nate.
Just then, an image of the former Vice-President, now President after murdering his predecessor, appeared on the flat vision. He seemed to be holding some sort of address. He spoke about the safety and comfort the Western United States could afford its residents. When the man in the barn heard the President speak, he picked up a shotgun that lay next to him and, with his mutated hand, shot at the screen without stopping what he was doing. He missed, partly because he didn’t really aim, but mainly due to the poor grip his three malformed fingers had on the weapon. The President droned on, encouraging all Easters to leave the wastelands and seek shelter in Tech-West society. This was too much for the man because he finally stopped what he was doing, took the shotgun in his good hands, and promptly blasted the flat vision to bits. A shame, really. Finding a new one will probably be a bear, you know, with the collapse of society and all. [The President was the deity, and the man . . . well . . . deactivated him.]
“Okay, now we know he has a gun,” Nate said, stating the obvious.
“I’m going in.”
“Wait! Are you insane? You’ll get shot.”
“I’m a teenage girl. How threatening could I be?”
Nate shot me a look that let me know he was thinking about the boys in the house backing down from me and my crowbar when they couldn’t care less about his own weapon.
“My hands’ll be empty,” I sighed. “But have your rifle ready, just in case.”
Quietly we moved along the barn until we found a door that was open. Unfortunately, the man’s back was to the door so I had no choice but to inadvertently sneak up on him. I took several steps inside while Nate waited outside, out of sight.
“Hello?” I said, making sure to speak in a soft voice. I held my arms out to the sides, empty palms up.
The man startled and spun around, ejected the spent round from the shotgun, and pointed it at my chest.
“Drop to the ground!” he ordered. [Reaction Roll: 4 - Hostile] Picking up a wrench with his third hand, he walked slowly toward me.
Without hesitation, I did as he said and hit the deck. Nate, short on patience, burst through the door and aimed his sonic rifle at the approaching man.
[All three make a communication roll to see how much influence they hold over each other. The roll will add modifiers for Mind and Conversation Skill. The farmer has a Mind Stat of 10 (generated on Don Jon’s MicroLite20 character generator)
Alyssa: 6+1MND+1skill=8 Nate: 10+0MND+1 skill=11 Farmer: 17+0MND+1skill=18]
The man seemed unphased. “Shoot me if you must,” he said, “But I’m not takin’ my farm without a fight.”
“Nate! Lower your gun,” I demanded. [Another Conversation/persuasion roll. A: 21 N: 8]
When I saw that he put it down I turned my head back toward the man, lifting it to face him as best as I could.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. We are not here to take your farm. My name is Alyssa. He is Nathan. We were just looking for a place to spend the night.”
“We don’t need any food or anything,” Nate adds. “Just a roof.”
[Alyssa rolls with advantage for this check since Nate lowered his weapon. A: 11 or 12 Farmer: 8]
The man held the gun’s sight on me a few seconds longer before reluctantly lowering the barrel.
“Name’s Murphy. Sean Murphy,” he offered as an introduction. “I’d apologize, but I’m alone, my family’s left me, and this farm is all I got. You can’t blame me for being skitterish.” [Any family on the farm? (even) No]
“We saw you working on that tractor before we came in,” Nate explained as I stood. Perhaps it was his way of getting Sean to warm up to us.
“Yep. Damn thing keeps stalling. I was barely able to limp it back to the barn this morning.”
“Any idea what the problem might be?” Nate asks as he carefully takes a few steps in the direction of the vehicle.
Sean didn’t stop him, but moved to join him next to the tractor. “Might be the fuel filter. Not sure.”
“Fuel filter? It’s not electric?”
“You’re obviously not a farmer. Electricity doesn’t generate the kind of power needed to run a tractor in the field. And even if it did, the battery would die in a matter of hours. Not great when you’re putting in a full day. Nope. These things still run on good ‘ole fashioned synthetic fuel.
“Anyway, I had a mechanic in town who used to take care of these things for me. Unfortunately, that’s not so much an option these days.”
“I take it he left after the bombings, or . . . “ Nate lingered, waiting for Sean to confirm whether or not the mechanic was killed.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Sean answered and offered nothing more.
“Have you looked it up on the Nets?”
The farmer laughs. “Of course, but you can’t find anything these days. Tech-West has blocked most of the useful sites. Y’know they only want us to access things they control. I’ve scoured what information slips through the cracks, but so far haven’t found anything. If I can’t get this thing fixed, I’m about done for.”
I assumed Nate doesn’t know much about tractor engines since he didn’t offer to try and fix it himself. Instead, he glanced toward the ruined flat vision. Often, they double as a touchscreen computer terminal. “You got another terminal around here? I work in computer technology. Perhaps I can get by the Net-blocks.”
“I got one in the house you can try.”
Scene 3 [Tension Level 6]:
[It takes a Tech skill check against a DC 20 (hard) to see if Nate can bypass the blocks on the computer. Roll: 1 (Really? A 1?). He cannot access the Net. Why? New/Ancient]
Sean’s computer was ancient. I remember having one of these models when I was in elementary school, but my father replaced it years ago. The machine took several about five minutes to fully boot up, a sure sign that very little maintenance had ever been performed on its internal software, and I saw Nate’s shoulders droop when the TWOS 4.0 (that’s Tech West Operating System version 4) splash screen appeared.
“This isn’t looking good already,” Nate remarked. “It doesn’t look like this system has been updated in quite some time.”
“Hmm. I guess I really never had a need,” Sean explained.
TWOS was currently up to version 6 and anyone who needed to squeeze every bit of power out of their system, those people primarily being gamers, graphic designers, and media producers, made sure to keep their operating system up to date. Others could get by with one previous version, as most programs would still run. Two versions, however, and things get a bit trickier as developers like to move forward and not linger on outdated tech. To be honest, I wasn't even sure Sean’s computer could run the newest programs. But for getting on the Nets and running a small farm, this was probably all that was needed.
“Most of the security leaks for version 4 have been accounted for by now,” Nate explained. “I know a lot of tricks with V 6, but I’ll see what I can do. I was really hoping your system was running WorldSys. I’m more familiar with that O.S.. Regardless, without access to my software packages or the ability to download and install anything, this might be a lost cause.”
While Nate tried to work his magic, I decided to take the opportunity to get to know a little bit about our host.
“Sean, I see pictures of you with an attractive woman and two children. Are they your family?”
“Yep. That would be Rose and my children, Lucas and Gracelynn.”
“In the barn, you told us that your family had left you. Do you mind me asking what happened?”
[Sean’s story was derived from three BOLD waylays.
Easy foes - quiet animals - resolved by fate
Epic - Storied Otherworldly - resolved by a scarcely used ability
Personal - Harsh Rival - resolved by the people]
“Just before the bombings,” Sean began, “Things were pretty normal around here. Lucas graduated from high school last year and chose to remain on the farm and help me instead of going off to college. The plan was for him to take over the farm eventually. Gracelynn still had several years of school left before she graduated.
“Like most folks around here, we first learned of the attacks through news stories on the holo-vis. Military bases and big cities like New York, Atlanta, and Nashville seemed to be the main focus, so while the news was disturbing, personally we felt rather safe. Besides, we still had a farm to take care of if we had any hopes of a successful harvest this fall. You don’t happen to know anything about Machreek, do you?”
I shook my head, indicating that I didn’t.
“Machreek is a plant that is a natural repellant for many types of crop-eating insects. The supply store in Mausdale had just received a large shipment of Machreek seed and, while it’s still too early to plant the stuff, I wanted to be sure to purchase what I would need. See, the farmers around here love the stuff and if you don’t grab it when you can there might not be any when it comes time to plant. Lucas volunteered to go to town and pick some up. It was four days into the war and still, we had not heard of any threats to rural areas so I didn’t see any harm. Besides, he had a girl he liked in town and was itching to see her. We had no idea that would be the day Tech West would decide to bomb Mausdale.”
Day four. The same day my house was bombed. I could relate.
“The bombs that fell around town were gas. Lucas told me that within minutes a thick, green fog blanketed the streets. It was gone within a half-hour and everyone seemed fine. In fact, they all assumed the bomb was a dud.”
“Did you get hit?” I asked.
“Nope. In fact, all I heard was a few explosions. Never saw any of the stuff myself. Lucas came home and seemed fine. However, a couple of days later he began to feel ill and came down with a fever. He stayed in bed and rested. His blond hair turned white and began to grow thicker on his arms, legs, chest . . . even his face. Soon he was covered in a layer of fur. Not only that, but his legs grew thicker, his feet grew wider, and the tops of his ears grew longer. Whiskers sprouted from his cheeks. He was turning into one of those bunnymen.”
“Bunnymen?” Nate asked, taking a break from the computer to listen to the tale.
“Bunnymen,” Sean confirmed.
“Is there an echo in here?” I snarked.
“I think they call them Hoops,” Sean continued, ignoring my comment. “Seen ‘em on the holo-vis science shows. Some lab in California was messing around with injecting humans with rabbit DNA or something. The result was a giant rabbit that walked and talked like a man. I thought they looked like one of those aliens from those sci-fi stories and now my son was turning into one of ‘em.”
“So you kicked him out?” I asked.
“Lord, no. I loved him no matter what he was. No. He left on his own. Had to. He tried to help around the farm, but the transformation did some weird things . . . other than change his appearance. It seems anything metal he touched turned to rubber. After he inadvertently destroyed three or four tools we felt it was best that he not try to help out. I had no idea when or if I’d be able to replace any of them. It wasn’t long before he began to feel like a burden, not being able to contribute. Our plans for the future were gone. At least, that’s what Lucas believed. He began to wonder how the rest of the people were getting along in Mausdale. He wanted to find out. Perhaps, he might have a home there, with others like him. Rose and I didn’t want him to leave, but every day he grew more depressed. Eventually, we agreed that at least in town there were others who knew what he was going through. And there was also his girl. We wanted him to be happy.
“After that, it was just the three of us, Rose, Gracelynn, and me. Until about a week ago, that is. One afternoon a caravan of vehicles drove up our driveway. In the lead was Bruce Schmidt. Behind him were several other families from the neighboring homes and farms. They were all heading west. They didn’t see much of life left here with the collapse of society and they were uncomfortable living so close to a community of mutants. They were going to take Tech West up on their offer of refuge to anyone willing to flee from the east. Personally, I didn’t trust the West and I told him so. Was sure they would either be imprisoned or forced to vow allegiance under the penalty of arrest. I told him Rose and I were staying put, but Bruce didn’t let up and he begged Rose to get her to change my mind.
“I suspect Bruce didn’t give a hoot about me. Who he really wanted to go with them was Rose. You see, Bruce’s wife passed a little over a year ago. Rose would often drop Gracelynn off at her friends but not come back for a couple of hours. Could never prove it but I suspect she and Bruce were seeing each other on the side. Regardless, I didn’t trust the man and had no intention of following his advice.
“Unfortunately, Rose didn’t feel the same way. She said she thought Gracelynn might have a chance for a normal life out West. She questioned whether or not the farm would even be habitable in a few months, or would it be overrun with lattterbugs, giant spiders, and seps? I told her she was being foolish, when several of the others, many of them Gracelynn’s friends, joined Bruce in encouraging us to go with them. In the end, Rose decided that leaving was the best course of action and if I didn’t agree that was fine with her. I could stay. Regardless, she was taking Gracelynn with her.
“I was only one man. They were a mob. I had no choice but to watch my wife and daughter pack up our car and drive off with a smug Bruce Schmidt. Now it’s just me, the farm . . .” he glances toward the front door and the barn beyond it, “And a broken tractor.”
“And unfortunately it’ll probably remain broken,” Nate announced. He had gone back to working on the computer but now had turned back to face us. “I tried, but I can get through. I even searched through sites I could reach but found nothing about tractors. I’m sorry.”
“It was a long shot,” Sean admitted. “I didn’t expect you to do much. I hear rumors of a secure Net being built here in the east. I might be able to find something on it, but right now I don’t have access, nor do I know who to talk to about it.”
[What happens next? d6 1-2: Sean asks for help 3-4: Alyssa offers to help 5-6: Nate offers to help. Roll: 2 (I intentionally didn’t throw in a “no one offers to help” option because I have an idea of where I want to direct this story.)
Mood, per UNE: Sociable]
“Where are my manners?” Sean Murphy said, suddenly realizing something. “I haven’t offered you anything to eat. It’s nearly dinner time. I can whip up some fresh eggs and a little leftover pork from a hog I slaughtered a couple of weeks ago.”
“Breakfast for dinner?” I remarked. “You can’t beat that.”
“It’s been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal,” Nate added eagerly.
We all moved to the kitchen. It had a small nook with a round table where Nate and I sat while Sean retrieved a bowl with eggs from the fridge and the bundle of meat from the freezer. He confirmed my initial suspicion that the farm was equipped with a high-capacity solar generator. Two actually.
“Most everyone out this way has one,” the farmer explained. “Even before the war power service to the farms wasn’t always reliable, especially in the winter.”
The stove he cooked on was gas, fed by a large outdoor propane tank. That worried him a bit, since the spare was empty and the current tank was less than half full.
“Don’t exactly know what I’m gonna do when that runs out. Cook over an open fire, I guess. They might have some propane available in town, but I’ve pretty much kept my distance from the bunnymen. Besides, Rose took my car. Couldn’t get there and back easily even if I wanted to. Which brings me to somethin’ I’ve been thinking of asking you. I know you two are just passing through and have your own plans. But I’ll admit, I’m an old man and I can’t do these things all on my own. I was hopin’ y’all might consider helping me out.”
I saw Nate begin to open his mouth to protest when Sean cut him off. “I’m not askin’ you to stay and help on the farm. Wouldn’t think of it. But, if you could just delay moving on for a couple of days, perhaps you could head into Mausdale for me. It’d be great if you could find Jesse, he’s my mechanic, and see if he’s willing to come out and look at the tractor. Also, and I realize this might be wishful thinking, if you happen to run into Logan, please let him know what happened with Rose and his sister. Maybe he’ll consider coming home.”
I looked across the table at Nate. His face was hesitant, but he wasn’t exactly giving me a “not on your life” glare either.
“He needs the help,” I implored.
“I know. But my family?”
“It’s been weeks since the attacks. Do you think anything is going to change if you arrive a few days later? Either they’re there or they’re not.”
He threw me a warning glance at my implication that they might not be fine and well.
“I’m just being realistic. We can do something meaningful right here. Right now.”
I let that sink in for a few moments.
“You’re right,” he finally admitted. “I’m just eager to learn something . . . anything. I don’t want to keep hoping if there’s nothing to hope for.”
“There’s always something to hope for, but right now I think we need to give Sean some hope.”
Without waiting for a response I turned to our host who was crossing the kitchen with two plates of hot food. “Mr. Murphy, we’ll do it. Tomorrow we’ll head into town and see what we can find.”
“This looks good,” Nate exclaimed as his plate was set down before him. In addition to the scrambled eggs and a slice of pork, Sean had added a couple of biscuits. “Really good.”
[Do they both agree to help Sean? (even) Yes +random event (Tension level resets to 1)
To refresh everyone’s memory, when a random event occurs I will draw a GMA card and use its Norse Glyph to inform the event. I drew Jera.
According to the GMA instructions, Jera indicates that some kind of recent effort pays off, next step is made clear or a roadblock is removed.]
After we were finished, Sean led us to one of the upstairs bedrooms.
“I have something to show you. Perhaps you might find it helpful.”
Opening a closet, he pulled out a suit of dark grey, rubberized flex armor. I was clearly used. There were gaps in some of the seams, scuff marks all over, the knees and elbow pads were worn thin, and it was missing half of the right sleeve. Still, it was better protection than what either Nate or I were wearing.
[Does Sean have a relic item? [Tension level 1] (even) Yes
I felt armor would meet two of the random events indicators. A reward for agreeing to help (recent effort) and it removed the obstacle of Nate not having any protection.
What type? 1-4 flex 5-7 sheath 8-10: force field Roll: 4=flex armor
What is its condition: 1-3: Full protection; 4-5: Some damage (-1 to protection); 6: significant damage (-2 to protection). Roll: 6 Instead of +6 bonus to AC, this suit only has +4]
“I found this at the army surplus store last year,” Sean explained. “I didn’t need it, but I thought it might be neat to own a suit of armor. Rose gave me an earful when I brought it home. Said it was a waste of money. But it really was a really good price, most likely ‘cause it was all beat up. Anyway, I don’t have a use for it. Couldn’t fit in it now even if I wanted to.” He held up his extra arm in case we had forgotten. “I thought one of you might be able to use it.”
We gladly accepted the gift and decided Nate should have it. It was more his size and I at least had some protection from my leather jacket and jeans.
“So, we have a plan,” Nate said. “We have protection and weapons. Now we just need to hope that we can persuade a couple of giant man-rabbits to help us.”
I was already thinking about that and believed I had an idea that might work. It all depended on Sean’s farm.
Scene 1 [Tension Lvl: 5]:
[Mile 3: Severe conditions, vehicle]
Remember the Angel? The car we passed a mile or so back that Nate couldn’t start? Well, it turned out it wouldn’t have been of much use anyway. We were maybe a mile past the houses when the entire highway became impassable, at least for vehicles. The asphalt wasn’t just severely torn up, it was blocked by a small commercial passenger plane, or what was left of it.
The plane must have been either shot down during the war or disabled in some other manner. Exactly what the pilot was trying to do was hard to determine as the aircraft appeared to be approaching the highway from a perpendicular direction. The aircraft lay across the eastbound lanes and a trail of torn-up asphalt, ground, and debris crossed the westbound lanes. If he was trying to land I would have expected the plane to be me lined up with the road.
Regardless, the plane didn’t survive. What remained was a black, burned-out carcass that had clearly been here for weeks. Nate climbed inside to search for anything useful. All he found was a bunch of charred human remains. [Is there anything salvageable on or around the plane? (Bad) No - No encounters]
[Mile 4: moderate conditions, structure What kind of structure? Impressive/Work]
Roughly a mile further down the road, as we neared the Columbia Hill overpass, we encountered the dragon.
“What is that?” Nathan gasped.
Up ahead, in the median between the east and west lanes, say an enormous grey stone statue of a dragon. The beast was facing us, crouched on its haunches, its long neck and head extended to survey the highway. Large wings were folded into its sides. Though unable to be seen from our current vantage point, I knew from past trips that its great tail lay curled on the ground behind it. For all the creature’s size and foreboding, it appeared to be grinning enigmatically.
We Encountered The Dragon
“That,” I explained, “Is Smaug.”
“From the Lord of the Rings?”
“The Hobbit,” I corrected. Fantasy is not one of my favorite genres -- I prefer modern settings and characters I can relate to -- but of course everyone’s familiar with Tolkien. At least I thought so. “What you’re really asking, I suspect, is what is he doing here?”
“Yeah. You don’t often find giant statues on the interstate.”
“From what I’ve been told--this was before my time--it's a product of the ‘Great Highway Beautification’ project of 2050. My parents told me that Pennsylvania’s governor--well, the governor’s wife actually--made a push to clean up Interstate 80. It had grown neglected and she wanted it to be more welcoming to people traveling through the state. A source of pride that Pennsylvania takes care of its roads.
“The plan was to have businesses and organizations adopt and fix up different sections of the highway. Most of the participants simply manicured the landscaping and planted flowers and trees. Others partnered with the DOT to repair run-down sections of the road. Many of the overpasses were cleaned up, restored when necessary, and sometimes even painted with murals or other pleasing imagery.
“One artist, however, had a bigger vision. He saw the world as a place full of magic and wanted to bring some of that to the project. So he submitted his plans for this statue. As you can expect, the debate went on for weeks. Most people thought it whimsical and loved the idea. It might even become a landmark bringing people to the state. Others thought it was gaudy, not in line at all with the vision of the project, and would only invite vandalism, costing the state unnecessary dollars to clean up.”
“So, which side won out?”
I cast a side glance at Nate to see if he was really as dull-minded as his question appeared, however, the grin on his face assured me he was just being flippant.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” I asked as we stopped alongside the monster to admire the craftsmanship.
“Yes, it is. So are we going to meet up with some orcs or ents down the road.”
“Nope. This is the only one.”
After a few minutes, Nate and I continued our journey west.
[No encounters]
Scene 2 [Tension Level 5 (in the game, this began as part of the previous scene, so TL was still 5)]:
[Mile 5: moderate conditions, single building]
“It’s getting late. Perhaps we should begin looking for a place to hole up for the night?”
Despite it being only mid-afternoon and there were still several hours of sunlight left, I had to agree with Nate. It had been a long day and I wasn’t used to walking so far. Rest would do me good.
About ten minutes later we reached a place where the interstate crossed over a small local road. Poking over the trees, we could see the top of what might have been a barn.
“What about that?” I offered. “If it’s abandoned it would make a good shelter. If the residents are still around perhaps they’ll be willing to put us up for the night.”
“I prefer abandoned,” Nate said but agreed to give the place a look.
We left the interstate and tracked through the brush back to the smaller road we had just crossed over. Following it in the direction of the barn, we soon realized that it was more of a driveway than a road, as it ended in front of a house that stood east of the barn. Several other smaller outbuildings stood nearby and beyond the barn lay a wide-open field. Nate suggested we leave the road, circle around the barn, and see if we could find a window. [Not exactly a “single building,” but Google Maps showed a single homestead in the vicinity so I felt that was close enough.]
“Hopefully it’s empty,” he explained. “If so, even if there is someone still living in the house, we can probably sneak in and stay the night without them ever knowing.”
“You really aren’t very trusting, are you?”
“I’ve learned not to be. Trust me, you will too.”
Creeping around the side of the barn furthest away from the house we found a dirty window. I carefully wiped away some of the filth and looked in. To Nate’s dismay, the building was not abandoned. Inside was a man who appeared to be in his late 50’s to mid 60’s. His hair was gray and his beard was full but trimmed. He appeared to be poking around the engine of a large tractor. Hearing other voices I looked around and spotted a Flat Vision that was on and showing some sort of news broadcast. He must have it hooked up to a solar generator and network uplink.
Oh, yeah. One other thing. The man was a Mutee. Out of his right side, about midway between his shoulder and hip, protruded a third arm. While the arm appeared to be fully formed, the hand itself was deformed, having only three fat fingers, almost like a claw or talon.
[Is there anyone in the barn? (Bad) Yes. How many? d2=1 Male/Female (even/odd)=Male
Is the man a mutant? d2=2 Yes - Roll on Omega Lite tables: Mutation - 1 extra arm (1 extra attack or shield); Defect-crude arms (-4 with handheld weapons or manipulations, but only with extra hand)
What is the man doing? Deactivate/Deity]
“I wonder if he’s friendly?” I whispered to Nate.
Just then, an image of the former Vice-President, now President after murdering his predecessor, appeared on the flat vision. He seemed to be holding some sort of address. He spoke about the safety and comfort the Western United States could afford its residents. When the man in the barn heard the President speak, he picked up a shotgun that lay next to him and, with his mutated hand, shot at the screen without stopping what he was doing. He missed, partly because he didn’t really aim, but mainly due to the poor grip his three malformed fingers had on the weapon. The President droned on, encouraging all Easters to leave the wastelands and seek shelter in Tech-West society. This was too much for the man because he finally stopped what he was doing, took the shotgun in his good hands, and promptly blasted the flat vision to bits. A shame, really. Finding a new one will probably be a bear, you know, with the collapse of society and all. [The President was the deity, and the man . . . well . . . deactivated him.]
“Okay, now we know he has a gun,” Nate said, stating the obvious.
“I’m going in.”
“Wait! Are you insane? You’ll get shot.”
“I’m a teenage girl. How threatening could I be?”
Nate shot me a look that let me know he was thinking about the boys in the house backing down from me and my crowbar when they couldn’t care less about his own weapon.
“My hands’ll be empty,” I sighed. “But have your rifle ready, just in case.”
Quietly we moved along the barn until we found a door that was open. Unfortunately, the man’s back was to the door so I had no choice but to inadvertently sneak up on him. I took several steps inside while Nate waited outside, out of sight.
“Hello?” I said, making sure to speak in a soft voice. I held my arms out to the sides, empty palms up.
The man startled and spun around, ejected the spent round from the shotgun, and pointed it at my chest.
“Drop to the ground!” he ordered. [Reaction Roll: 4 - Hostile] Picking up a wrench with his third hand, he walked slowly toward me.
Without hesitation, I did as he said and hit the deck. Nate, short on patience, burst through the door and aimed his sonic rifle at the approaching man.
[All three make a communication roll to see how much influence they hold over each other. The roll will add modifiers for Mind and Conversation Skill. The farmer has a Mind Stat of 10 (generated on Don Jon’s MicroLite20 character generator)
Alyssa: 6+1MND+1skill=8 Nate: 10+0MND+1 skill=11 Farmer: 17+0MND+1skill=18]
The man seemed unphased. “Shoot me if you must,” he said, “But I’m not takin’ my farm without a fight.”
“Nate! Lower your gun,” I demanded. [Another Conversation/persuasion roll. A: 21 N: 8]
When I saw that he put it down I turned my head back toward the man, lifting it to face him as best as I could.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. We are not here to take your farm. My name is Alyssa. He is Nathan. We were just looking for a place to spend the night.”
“We don’t need any food or anything,” Nate adds. “Just a roof.”
[Alyssa rolls with advantage for this check since Nate lowered his weapon. A: 11 or 12 Farmer: 8]
The man held the gun’s sight on me a few seconds longer before reluctantly lowering the barrel.
“Name’s Murphy. Sean Murphy,” he offered as an introduction. “I’d apologize, but I’m alone, my family’s left me, and this farm is all I got. You can’t blame me for being skitterish.” [Any family on the farm? (even) No]
Sean Murphy
“We saw you working on that tractor before we came in,” Nate explained as I stood. Perhaps it was his way of getting Sean to warm up to us.
“Yep. Damn thing keeps stalling. I was barely able to limp it back to the barn this morning.”
“Any idea what the problem might be?” Nate asks as he carefully takes a few steps in the direction of the vehicle.
Sean didn’t stop him, but moved to join him next to the tractor. “Might be the fuel filter. Not sure.”
“Fuel filter? It’s not electric?”
“You’re obviously not a farmer. Electricity doesn’t generate the kind of power needed to run a tractor in the field. And even if it did, the battery would die in a matter of hours. Not great when you’re putting in a full day. Nope. These things still run on good ‘ole fashioned synthetic fuel.
“Anyway, I had a mechanic in town who used to take care of these things for me. Unfortunately, that’s not so much an option these days.”
“I take it he left after the bombings, or . . . “ Nate lingered, waiting for Sean to confirm whether or not the mechanic was killed.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Sean answered and offered nothing more.
“Have you looked it up on the Nets?”
The farmer laughs. “Of course, but you can’t find anything these days. Tech-West has blocked most of the useful sites. Y’know they only want us to access things they control. I’ve scoured what information slips through the cracks, but so far haven’t found anything. If I can’t get this thing fixed, I’m about done for.”
I assumed Nate doesn’t know much about tractor engines since he didn’t offer to try and fix it himself. Instead, he glanced toward the ruined flat vision. Often, they double as a touchscreen computer terminal. “You got another terminal around here? I work in computer technology. Perhaps I can get by the Net-blocks.”
“I got one in the house you can try.”
Scene 3 [Tension Level 6]:
[It takes a Tech skill check against a DC 20 (hard) to see if Nate can bypass the blocks on the computer. Roll: 1 (Really? A 1?). He cannot access the Net. Why? New/Ancient]
Sean’s computer was ancient. I remember having one of these models when I was in elementary school, but my father replaced it years ago. The machine took several about five minutes to fully boot up, a sure sign that very little maintenance had ever been performed on its internal software, and I saw Nate’s shoulders droop when the TWOS 4.0 (that’s Tech West Operating System version 4) splash screen appeared.
“This isn’t looking good already,” Nate remarked. “It doesn’t look like this system has been updated in quite some time.”
“Hmm. I guess I really never had a need,” Sean explained.
TWOS was currently up to version 6 and anyone who needed to squeeze every bit of power out of their system, those people primarily being gamers, graphic designers, and media producers, made sure to keep their operating system up to date. Others could get by with one previous version, as most programs would still run. Two versions, however, and things get a bit trickier as developers like to move forward and not linger on outdated tech. To be honest, I wasn't even sure Sean’s computer could run the newest programs. But for getting on the Nets and running a small farm, this was probably all that was needed.
“Most of the security leaks for version 4 have been accounted for by now,” Nate explained. “I know a lot of tricks with V 6, but I’ll see what I can do. I was really hoping your system was running WorldSys. I’m more familiar with that O.S.. Regardless, without access to my software packages or the ability to download and install anything, this might be a lost cause.”
While Nate tried to work his magic, I decided to take the opportunity to get to know a little bit about our host.
“Sean, I see pictures of you with an attractive woman and two children. Are they your family?”
“Yep. That would be Rose and my children, Lucas and Gracelynn.”
“In the barn, you told us that your family had left you. Do you mind me asking what happened?”
[Sean’s story was derived from three BOLD waylays.
Easy foes - quiet animals - resolved by fate
Epic - Storied Otherworldly - resolved by a scarcely used ability
Personal - Harsh Rival - resolved by the people]
“Just before the bombings,” Sean began, “Things were pretty normal around here. Lucas graduated from high school last year and chose to remain on the farm and help me instead of going off to college. The plan was for him to take over the farm eventually. Gracelynn still had several years of school left before she graduated.
“Like most folks around here, we first learned of the attacks through news stories on the holo-vis. Military bases and big cities like New York, Atlanta, and Nashville seemed to be the main focus, so while the news was disturbing, personally we felt rather safe. Besides, we still had a farm to take care of if we had any hopes of a successful harvest this fall. You don’t happen to know anything about Machreek, do you?”
I shook my head, indicating that I didn’t.
“Machreek is a plant that is a natural repellant for many types of crop-eating insects. The supply store in Mausdale had just received a large shipment of Machreek seed and, while it’s still too early to plant the stuff, I wanted to be sure to purchase what I would need. See, the farmers around here love the stuff and if you don’t grab it when you can there might not be any when it comes time to plant. Lucas volunteered to go to town and pick some up. It was four days into the war and still, we had not heard of any threats to rural areas so I didn’t see any harm. Besides, he had a girl he liked in town and was itching to see her. We had no idea that would be the day Tech West would decide to bomb Mausdale.”
Day four. The same day my house was bombed. I could relate.
“The bombs that fell around town were gas. Lucas told me that within minutes a thick, green fog blanketed the streets. It was gone within a half-hour and everyone seemed fine. In fact, they all assumed the bomb was a dud.”
“Did you get hit?” I asked.
“Nope. In fact, all I heard was a few explosions. Never saw any of the stuff myself. Lucas came home and seemed fine. However, a couple of days later he began to feel ill and came down with a fever. He stayed in bed and rested. His blond hair turned white and began to grow thicker on his arms, legs, chest . . . even his face. Soon he was covered in a layer of fur. Not only that, but his legs grew thicker, his feet grew wider, and the tops of his ears grew longer. Whiskers sprouted from his cheeks. He was turning into one of those bunnymen.”
“Bunnymen?” Nate asked, taking a break from the computer to listen to the tale.
“Bunnymen,” Sean confirmed.
“Is there an echo in here?” I snarked.
“I think they call them Hoops,” Sean continued, ignoring my comment. “Seen ‘em on the holo-vis science shows. Some lab in California was messing around with injecting humans with rabbit DNA or something. The result was a giant rabbit that walked and talked like a man. I thought they looked like one of those aliens from those sci-fi stories and now my son was turning into one of ‘em.”
“So you kicked him out?” I asked.
“Lord, no. I loved him no matter what he was. No. He left on his own. Had to. He tried to help around the farm, but the transformation did some weird things . . . other than change his appearance. It seems anything metal he touched turned to rubber. After he inadvertently destroyed three or four tools we felt it was best that he not try to help out. I had no idea when or if I’d be able to replace any of them. It wasn’t long before he began to feel like a burden, not being able to contribute. Our plans for the future were gone. At least, that’s what Lucas believed. He began to wonder how the rest of the people were getting along in Mausdale. He wanted to find out. Perhaps, he might have a home there, with others like him. Rose and I didn’t want him to leave, but every day he grew more depressed. Eventually, we agreed that at least in town there were others who knew what he was going through. And there was also his girl. We wanted him to be happy.
“After that, it was just the three of us, Rose, Gracelynn, and me. Until about a week ago, that is. One afternoon a caravan of vehicles drove up our driveway. In the lead was Bruce Schmidt. Behind him were several other families from the neighboring homes and farms. They were all heading west. They didn’t see much of life left here with the collapse of society and they were uncomfortable living so close to a community of mutants. They were going to take Tech West up on their offer of refuge to anyone willing to flee from the east. Personally, I didn’t trust the West and I told him so. Was sure they would either be imprisoned or forced to vow allegiance under the penalty of arrest. I told him Rose and I were staying put, but Bruce didn’t let up and he begged Rose to get her to change my mind.
“I suspect Bruce didn’t give a hoot about me. Who he really wanted to go with them was Rose. You see, Bruce’s wife passed a little over a year ago. Rose would often drop Gracelynn off at her friends but not come back for a couple of hours. Could never prove it but I suspect she and Bruce were seeing each other on the side. Regardless, I didn’t trust the man and had no intention of following his advice.
“Unfortunately, Rose didn’t feel the same way. She said she thought Gracelynn might have a chance for a normal life out West. She questioned whether or not the farm would even be habitable in a few months, or would it be overrun with lattterbugs, giant spiders, and seps? I told her she was being foolish, when several of the others, many of them Gracelynn’s friends, joined Bruce in encouraging us to go with them. In the end, Rose decided that leaving was the best course of action and if I didn’t agree that was fine with her. I could stay. Regardless, she was taking Gracelynn with her.
“I was only one man. They were a mob. I had no choice but to watch my wife and daughter pack up our car and drive off with a smug Bruce Schmidt. Now it’s just me, the farm . . .” he glances toward the front door and the barn beyond it, “And a broken tractor.”
“And unfortunately it’ll probably remain broken,” Nate announced. He had gone back to working on the computer but now had turned back to face us. “I tried, but I can get through. I even searched through sites I could reach but found nothing about tractors. I’m sorry.”
“It was a long shot,” Sean admitted. “I didn’t expect you to do much. I hear rumors of a secure Net being built here in the east. I might be able to find something on it, but right now I don’t have access, nor do I know who to talk to about it.”
[What happens next? d6 1-2: Sean asks for help 3-4: Alyssa offers to help 5-6: Nate offers to help. Roll: 2 (I intentionally didn’t throw in a “no one offers to help” option because I have an idea of where I want to direct this story.)
Mood, per UNE: Sociable]
“Where are my manners?” Sean Murphy said, suddenly realizing something. “I haven’t offered you anything to eat. It’s nearly dinner time. I can whip up some fresh eggs and a little leftover pork from a hog I slaughtered a couple of weeks ago.”
“Breakfast for dinner?” I remarked. “You can’t beat that.”
“It’s been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal,” Nate added eagerly.
We all moved to the kitchen. It had a small nook with a round table where Nate and I sat while Sean retrieved a bowl with eggs from the fridge and the bundle of meat from the freezer. He confirmed my initial suspicion that the farm was equipped with a high-capacity solar generator. Two actually.
“Most everyone out this way has one,” the farmer explained. “Even before the war power service to the farms wasn’t always reliable, especially in the winter.”
The stove he cooked on was gas, fed by a large outdoor propane tank. That worried him a bit, since the spare was empty and the current tank was less than half full.
“Don’t exactly know what I’m gonna do when that runs out. Cook over an open fire, I guess. They might have some propane available in town, but I’ve pretty much kept my distance from the bunnymen. Besides, Rose took my car. Couldn’t get there and back easily even if I wanted to. Which brings me to somethin’ I’ve been thinking of asking you. I know you two are just passing through and have your own plans. But I’ll admit, I’m an old man and I can’t do these things all on my own. I was hopin’ y’all might consider helping me out.”
I saw Nate begin to open his mouth to protest when Sean cut him off. “I’m not askin’ you to stay and help on the farm. Wouldn’t think of it. But, if you could just delay moving on for a couple of days, perhaps you could head into Mausdale for me. It’d be great if you could find Jesse, he’s my mechanic, and see if he’s willing to come out and look at the tractor. Also, and I realize this might be wishful thinking, if you happen to run into Logan, please let him know what happened with Rose and his sister. Maybe he’ll consider coming home.”
I looked across the table at Nate. His face was hesitant, but he wasn’t exactly giving me a “not on your life” glare either.
“He needs the help,” I implored.
“I know. But my family?”
“It’s been weeks since the attacks. Do you think anything is going to change if you arrive a few days later? Either they’re there or they’re not.”
He threw me a warning glance at my implication that they might not be fine and well.
“I’m just being realistic. We can do something meaningful right here. Right now.”
I let that sink in for a few moments.
“You’re right,” he finally admitted. “I’m just eager to learn something . . . anything. I don’t want to keep hoping if there’s nothing to hope for.”
“There’s always something to hope for, but right now I think we need to give Sean some hope.”
Without waiting for a response I turned to our host who was crossing the kitchen with two plates of hot food. “Mr. Murphy, we’ll do it. Tomorrow we’ll head into town and see what we can find.”
“This looks good,” Nate exclaimed as his plate was set down before him. In addition to the scrambled eggs and a slice of pork, Sean had added a couple of biscuits. “Really good.”
[Do they both agree to help Sean? (even) Yes +random event (Tension level resets to 1)
To refresh everyone’s memory, when a random event occurs I will draw a GMA card and use its Norse Glyph to inform the event. I drew Jera.
According to the GMA instructions, Jera indicates that some kind of recent effort pays off, next step is made clear or a roadblock is removed.] After we were finished, Sean led us to one of the upstairs bedrooms.
“I have something to show you. Perhaps you might find it helpful.”
Opening a closet, he pulled out a suit of dark grey, rubberized flex armor. I was clearly used. There were gaps in some of the seams, scuff marks all over, the knees and elbow pads were worn thin, and it was missing half of the right sleeve. Still, it was better protection than what either Nate or I were wearing.
[Does Sean have a relic item? [Tension level 1] (even) Yes
I felt armor would meet two of the random events indicators. A reward for agreeing to help (recent effort) and it removed the obstacle of Nate not having any protection.
What type? 1-4 flex 5-7 sheath 8-10: force field Roll: 4=flex armor
What is its condition: 1-3: Full protection; 4-5: Some damage (-1 to protection); 6: significant damage (-2 to protection). Roll: 6 Instead of +6 bonus to AC, this suit only has +4]
“I found this at the army surplus store last year,” Sean explained. “I didn’t need it, but I thought it might be neat to own a suit of armor. Rose gave me an earful when I brought it home. Said it was a waste of money. But it really was a really good price, most likely ‘cause it was all beat up. Anyway, I don’t have a use for it. Couldn’t fit in it now even if I wanted to.” He held up his extra arm in case we had forgotten. “I thought one of you might be able to use it.”
We gladly accepted the gift and decided Nate should have it. It was more his size and I at least had some protection from my leather jacket and jeans.
“So, we have a plan,” Nate said. “We have protection and weapons. Now we just need to hope that we can persuade a couple of giant man-rabbits to help us.”
I was already thinking about that and believed I had an idea that might work. It all depended on Sean’s farm.
Read the next chapter here.
