Bels Fallout RPG (IC)

[Nuptup]

Sasha sees that they are still getting into it and decides to wander off on her own looking for a general store, leaving those two to fight it out or kiss and make up as she wonders to herself, "Now then, if I were a general store, where would I be?"

[OOC: I mentioned something in the OOC thread that should probably be discussed/clarified before continuing much further.]

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sasha Ms. Gutsy // Frontline Defense: 1| HP: 12/12 | Initiative: 8 DR: Physical: 4 | Energy: 3 | Radiation: ∞ | Poison: ∞ Buzz-Saw | TN: 12 | Dmg: 5CD | Effect: Piercing 1 Flamer | TN: 9 | Dmg: 4CD | Effect: Burst, Persistent, Spread Qualities: Debilitating, Inaccurate | Flamer Fuel: 20 TAG Skills - Explosives: 3* | Melee: 3* | Science: 3* Other Skills - Barter: 2 | Big Guns: 3 | Sneak: 3 | Speech: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Lentrax]

Oh. So stating your goal over and over is not conducive for partnerships? Is that what you’re saying?

Natalie gets a gleam in her eye, as she goes on.

Then perhaps you and he should do the same damn thing and stop talking about an outpost that may or may not exist, with a group of people that may or may not exist, and by the way, ask your companions what their needs are. Or are you all so used to being alone in this wasteland that you don’t have any compassion at all anymore?

She doesn’t wait for another word, just turns to follow Sasha.

[Wyndeward]

Lincoln Ford was, for once, left speechless.

"Some folks just can't see the forest for the trees..." he muttered to himself after a moment, then shrugged and led Dammit towards the brewery.

Trying to reason with crazy folk always worked up a powerful thirst.

[CardTrick]

While trying to move away as swiftly as his weary legs will allow, Match's shoulders still invuluntarily shudder as he hears Lincoln and Natalie going at it with each other about her people's situation... ironically putting them in graver danger just by doing so. It was obvious this town was smack dab in the middle of raider country. If even one wrong local ear caught word of a juicy, as yet untouched barrel of monkeys in the wastes, just begging to be plundered... the Doc's home would fall prey to murderers, slavers and cannibals in no time at all. That Match knew all too well.

Match is however prevented from mentally drifting off too much into those more distant memories by the sound of Zygg's monstrous feet pounding the ground and the accompanying realization that the mutant was either following after him or possibly just looking for the brewery too, "So, this mean you're still uh... set on getting some of that... umm... chewy rat jerky?"

[Hemnon]

Lucky had no interest in the current argument that was going on and had sat down on whatever was available. a stump, a chair, a rock. Whatever was present - and wishing he was back at his little tree-hut home he'd left some time ago because the idea of 'returning to civilization' had seemed like a good idea.
Now tho, he remembers why, among other reasons, he'd decided to seclude himself in the wilds. So all he could do was sigh and tune out the overly angry-argument that was going on and just wait it out. He'd said his piece already about what jobs to potentially take, what he thought would make sense in terms of abilities, and value of the jobs.

[balanthejakal]

Zygg shrugs, "Zygg no care. Rat things give extra. Make humie's happy when dead, make Zygg belly full too! Zygg tired of group no agreeing, Should just do things supermutant way. Hit each other till last one standing. Standing means right, others fall in line." Zygg frowns, looking at his hands. "Zygg can no can do that with group. Zygg win too easy." Walking along next to Match in silence for a few seconds, Zygg looks down at Match. "Where Match going?"

[Wyndeward]

Zygg shrugs, "Zygg no care. Rat things give extra. Make humie's happy when dead, make Zygg belly full too! Zygg tired of group no agreeing, Should just do things supermutant way. Hit each other till last one standing. Standing means right, others fall in line." Zygg frowns, looking at his hands. "Zygg can no can do that with group. Zygg win too easy." Walking along next to Match in silence for a few seconds, Zygg looks down at Match. "Where Match going?"

Lincoln tied Dammit to the hitching post and pulled up a chair.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he looks at Zygg.

"How in the heck is it that Zygg can grok that you c'n do two things at the same time for the benefit of more than one person and the good doctor just can't seem to wrap her head around it?"

Lincoln slumped in his chair, the straighten up and looked for the list of the brewery's offerings.

[Spartanmoon]

Lucky had no interest in the current argument that was going on and had sat down on whatever was available. a stump, a chair, a rock. Whatever was present - and wishing he was back at his little tree-hut home he'd left some time ago because the idea of 'returning to civilization' had seemed like a good idea.
Now tho, he remembers why, among other reasons, he'd decided to seclude himself in the wilds. So all he could do was sigh and tune out the overly angry-argument that was going on and just wait it out. He'd said his piece already about what jobs to potentially take, what he thought would make sense in terms of abilities, and value of the jobs.

"Looks like you're down on your luck, stranger. Mind if I take a seat? Voyde asks, looking over the man as he sits on the remains of an old bench that's sunken into the soft ground a bit. She's a young adult woman wearing a comfortable looking trench coat with a longbow slung across her back and a quiver with some arrows on her hip.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Lentrax]

Walking off in the direction that Sasha had gone, Natalie fumes another thought about men and how they don't realize they are making the same argument they are trying to tell her off for.

But when she realizes she had lost sight of the robot, she instead finds herself spotting the woman with the laser rifle. She holds a hand up in greeting.

Hi, there. My name is Natalie, and in case you didn't hear a few moments earlier, I am a doctor. Is there anyone here who has urgent need of medical care? Care that you can't see to yourselves?

[Hemnon]

"Looks like you're down on your luck, stranger. Mind if I take a seat? Voyde asks, looking over the man as he sits on the remains of an old bench that's sunken into the soft ground a bit. She's a young adult woman wearing a comfortable looking trench coat with a longbow slung across her back and a quiver with some arrows on her hip.

Lucky merely waved his hand in a 'do as you wish' gesture. "Feel free, and I guess so... Crazy robot from the pre-war times being crazy, one of those vault people as well being angry since the world isn't all nice and 'ready for resettlement' or some such.... I miss my quaint-if-wildlife-dangerous little tree home... *sigh*" Lucky replied, eyes closed with a bare peek at Voyde's direction from a nearly-closed eyelid before fully closing his eyes.

[Spartanmoon]

She takes a seat next to the man, pulling out a knife and a small chunk of wood as she starts carving grooves into it's surface, working it into the shape she sees in her mind's eye. "Well, what brought all of you here? I saw you come in with a pretty decent sized group."

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Hemnon]

She takes a seat next to the man, pulling out a knife and a small chunk of wood as she starts carving grooves into it's surface, working it into the shape she sees in her mind's eye. "Well, what brought all of you here? I saw you come in with a pretty decent sized group."

Lucky gave the lady beside her another sideways glance. "Honestly, that answer seems to be as diverse as the mutations found on the average molerat... I happened along with the fella with the Brahmin, as for the story of the rest or howcome they had joined up on the way here as well... I have no idea. Had no mind nor interest in asking."

[Spartanmoon]

"What about the high-strung blue-suit and the two she's been shouting at? And, I figure you're all looking for work since they were shouting at the job board?" She asks, watching as the 3 all go their separate ways thinking to herself, They might just need a hired hand to help out.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[BelGareth]

As your players approach Merrif Constance, she halts with a weariness that suggests she's had her fill of surprises for the day. Her gaze lingers on Natalie, assessing, before she responds with a tone that's as sharp as the laser rifle she bears.

"Merrif Constance, at your service," she starts, her voice dripping with a sarcasm that doesn't quite mask her underlying tension. "A doctor, you say? Well, ain't that a rare sight in these parts. But if you're looking to ply your trade, I suggest you take a number. We're all a bit 'occupied' here, keeping the town from becoming a radscorpion's dinner plate."

She shifts the weight of her laser rifle, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Urgent care, hmm? Let's put it this way, doctor. Unless you've got a cure for chronic raider attacks or a way to make our crops immune to this blasted radiation, I'm afraid you'll find our medical emergencies rather... mundane. But, by all means, feel free to set up shop. Just don't expect me to roll out the welcome mat. We're a cautious bunch, and strangers looking to 'help' without asking for anything in return just sets off my alarm bells."

Constance pauses, as if considering her own words, then adds with a begrudging tone of professionalism, "That said, if you're genuine in your offer, there are a few folks who've seen better days. Old Man Jenkins twisted his ankle running from ghouls last week, and the Henderson twins have been down with the flu. Help them, and maybe, just maybe, you'll start to fit in around here. Just keep your intentions clear, doctor. In Spangle, trust is earned, not given."

---

Rad-Rat Roundup at the Old Brewery

As the group approaches the old brewery, the pungent aroma of stale beer mixed with a radioactive tang fills the air. The building, a ramshackle structure of corrugated metal and scavenged wood, seems to groan under its own weight. A large, hand-painted sign reads "Brewery," with smaller text underneath: "Enter at your own risk."

Standing guard at the entrance is a wiry individual with a patchwork of leather and metal for clothing. Her hair is a tangle of braids and beads, and her eyes gleam with a mix of madness and mirth. She cradles a homemade flamethrower, lovingly named "The Brewer's Fury," with a care that borders on affectionate.



"Name's Brew-Hilda," she declares with a grin that reveals more than a few missing teeth. "Welcome to what's left of paradise. You here for the rat roundup? Hope you've got your fighting trousers on. Those rad-rats have been brewing up more trouble than a double-fermented IPA."

She leads the players through a maze of vats and piping, all the while regaling them with tales of her most explosive brews gone awry. "Nearly blew the roof off last Tuesday," she chuckles, pointing to a suspiciously new-looking patch overhead. "But that's the spirit of innovation, right?"

Arriving at the heart of the infestation, Brew-Hilda hands out makeshift weapons—anything from a battered shovel to a rusted pitchfork. "Alright, team. Let's make these rats regret they ever developed a taste for hops. Remember, it's not just about clearing them out; it's about reclaiming the soul of this place. Plus, unlimited beer. Ready? Let's brew up a storm!"

---

Brewmaster's Assistant in the Experimental Lab

Further into the brewery, past the chaos of the rad-rat roundup, is a door adorned with a dizzying array of warning signs: "Caution: Explosive," "Radiation Hazard," and "Seriously, Don't Lick the Concoctions." The door creaks open to reveal a laboratory that looks part mad scientist's dream, part post-apocalyptic kitchen.

The person inside is a stark contrast to Brew-Hilda. This man is clad in a hazmat suit that's seen better days, his face obscured by a visor streaked with soot. Around him, strange plants glow with an eerie light, their vines entangled with lab equipment.



"Ah, potential assistants," he says, his voice muffled but unmistakably enthusiastic. "I'm Brewmeister Byron, the alchemical genius behind Spangle's most... unique beverages. You're here to dive into the art of mutant flora fermentation, I take it?"

Byron guides the players through a series of experiments that range from fascinating to downright bizarre. "The key," he explains, "is to embrace the unpredictable nature of our ingredients. Who knows? That glowing mushroom could give our next batch the kick it's been missing. Or it might explode. That's what makes it exciting!"

The session is a whirlwind of measuring, mixing, and the occasional controlled explosion, with Byron providing commentary that's equal parts enlightening and unhinged. "Remember," he concludes, "in a world gone mad, it's the crazy ideas that are truly sane. Welcome to the team. Let's change the face of post-apocalyptic cuisine together."

"Now, what I need is some new ingredients!" he takes out a list and offers it to anyone willing to take it "Take this, and see if you can gather them up for me! I've got a few things lying about the place that are yours if you can get them for me" the Power Armor helmet on his head emphasizes the point quite plainly.

• Glowing Mushroom Caps: Found in the depths of radioactive caves, these mushrooms emit a soft, eerie light. Their unique properties could add an illuminating twist to the brew. [Random clothing item]
• Radscorpion Venom: A dangerous but thrilling ingredient, believed to add a "sting" to any beverage. Collecting it will require careful handling of radscorpions, which are not known for their hospitality. [Random clothing item]
• Mutfruit Juice: A staple of post-apocalyptic cuisine, mutfruit juice adds a sweet and slightly radioactive flavor profile that could complement the other ingredients. [Random drink item]
• Fire Ant Nectar: This rare and spicy nectar, harvested from the glands of fire ants, is said to provide a fiery kick to any concoction. [Random food item]
• Nuka-Cola Quantum: The legendary pre-war soda known for its bright blue glow and high radiation levels. A bottle or two could introduce an effervescent quality and a nostalgic nod to the old world. [Random armor item]
• Purified Water: In a world where clean water is a luxury, a few gallons of purified water will be essential for brewing, ensuring that the final product is as safe as it is innovative. [Random weapon item]
• Brahmin Milk: Known for its rich, creamy texture and slight radioactivity, brahmin milk could serve as a base for a more experimental type of beer or spirit. [Random weapon item]
• Deathclaw Egg: For the truly adventurous brewer, a deathclaw egg could introduce unparalleled richness and texture. Obtaining one, however, is a quest in its own right. [Random armor item]
• Wild Yeast Sample: In the ruins of an old bakery or perhaps a forgotten brewery, a sample of wild yeast could be found, offering a unique fermentation profile impossible to replicate with standard strains. [Random odditie item]
• Hubflower Honey: This sweet, floral honey made from the nectar of the hubflower could add a delicate aroma and a touch of sweetness to balance the more potent ingredients. [Random chem item]

Spoiler

Show

We have about 3 things happening at once, which isn't a problem, however, if players want to split the group....that is your option, i would advise against it, but if it's what you want, we'll split the thread up let me know which place you are going to please.

[Wyndeward]

"Ah, potential assistants," he says, his voice muffled but unmistakably enthusiastic. "I'm Brewmeister Byron, the alchemical genius behind Spangle's most... unique beverages. You're here to dive into the art of mutant flora fermentation, I take it?"

Byron guides the players through a series of experiments that range from fascinating to downright bizarre. "The key," he explains, "is to embrace the unpredictable nature of our ingredients. Who knows? That glowing mushroom could give our next batch the kick it's been missing. Or it might explode. That's what makes it exciting!"

The session is a whirlwind of measuring, mixing, and the occasional controlled explosion, with Byron providing commentary that's equal parts enlightening and unhinged. "Remember," he concludes, "in a world gone mad, it's the crazy ideas that are truly sane. Welcome to the team. Let's change the face of post-apocalyptic cuisine together."

"Now, what I need is some new ingredients!" he takes out a list and offers it to anyone willing to take it "Take this, and see if you can gather them up for me! I've got a few things lying about the place that are yours if you can get them for me" the Power Armor helmet on his head emphasizes the point quite plainly.

Lincoln forced a sincere-looking smile on his face and shook Byron's hand with all the enthusiasm he could muster after accepting the list of ingredients.

"Might I trouble you for the loan of a bucket or similar container? I'd like to get right down to work!"

[Spartanmoon]

Voyde stands up from the bench, rising next to the man as she puts away her project and folds away her knife. She extends a hand out to Lucky and says, "We should probably go see what your group is up to. Come on, they'll need you I bet. The name's Voyde by the way."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Check the OOC thread when you get a chance, we should try and bring our characters together smoothly, but to do that we need to agree on what we're trying to do as players.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Lentrax]

Natalie seems to be startled by the tone the… Merriff?

Is that a title? Or a name?

Im just a medical doctor, and I’m afraid that my expertise does not really extend to agriculture.

Old man… hmm. Actually elderly? Or old for around here… and what was that?

Ghouls? What’s a ghoul?

[BelGareth]

Brewmaster's Assistant in the Experimental Lab

Byron, with a grin spreading across his grizzled face, clapped Lincoln on the back with a force that suggested more camaraderie than Lincoln might have been prepared for. "Ah, Lincoln, I like your spirit! Not everyone's eager to dive into the wilds with such gusto," he chuckled, wiping his hands on his stained apron.

He turned, rummaging through a cluttered pile of brewing paraphernalia that seemed to occupy every corner of his makeshift laboratory. Bottles clinked, metal clattered, and finally, Byron emerged triumphant, holding aloft a sturdy-looking bucket. It had seen better days, to be sure, but it looked capable of holding whatever strange ingredients Lincoln might come across.

"Here you go, my intrepid gatherer," Byron said, handing over the bucket with a flourish. "It's seen its share of adventures, that one. Even survived the Great Fermentation Fiasco of '77. Treat it well, and it'll do the same for you."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "And Lincoln, keep an eye out for anything... unusual, won't you? The Wasteland's full of secrets, and who knows? You might just stumble upon a new recipe to bring back. Safe travels, and remember, the stranger the ingredient, the better the brew!" With a final slap on Lincoln's shoulder, Byron turned back to his work, already lost in thoughts of potential concoctions.

You gained 1 Action Point!

---

Town Square

The Merriff, Constance, peered down at Natalie through narrowed eyes, her patience clearly worn thin from the day's earlier tribulations.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if warding off an impending headache. "Look, Doc, I don't have the luxury of worrying about crops or the finer points of farming. My job's keeping the peace, such as it is, and making sure the town's not overrun by raiders, mutants, or worse."

At Natalie's confusion about ghouls, Constance's expression softened just a fraction, recognizing the genuine lack of knowledge. "Ghouls, huh? Well, you're in for a treat," she said, her voice tinged with a sarcasm that suggested 'treat' was the last word she’d actually mean. "They're what happens to folks who get a heavy dose of radiation but don't quite die. Some of 'em keep their wits, turn into decent enough sorts. Others..." She trailed off, leaving the more horrifying possibilities to Natalie's imagination.

"Old man Harris," she continued, shifting the topic with a dismissive wave of her hand, "is just old. Not a ghoul, but old enough to remember when the world didn't glow in the dark. He's been around, might know a thing or two about surviving out here, even if he's more cantankerous than a radscorpion with a toothache."

Constance took a step back, her gaze scanning the area with practiced paranoia. "Now, unless you've got medicine that can cure a case of 'the world's gone to hell', I suggest you make yourself useful or stay out of the way. We've got enough problems without playing twenty questions." Her gaze lingered on Natalie for a moment longer, as if reassessing her, before she turned on her heel and walked away, her posture rigid with the burdens of her office.

---

Player AP: 4/6
DM AP: 3

[Lentrax]

Oh. I see.

When she turns to leave, Natalie calls after her, Oh, and thank you for your time, ma’am.

She then wonders where to head and tries to find someone from the group she’d been with.

After a moment of walking she sees Lucky talking with someone else.

She is speaking a note into her Pip-Boy as she walks up to them.

Old Man Jenkins. Twisted ankle. Should examine for proper treatment plan. Henderson twins, age unknown, flu symptoms, possible complications due to radiation. Should examine for proper treatment…

She stops recording and looks over at the two. Made a new friend, Lucky? I have a little work I can do, if you don’t mind watching over me as I do it.

[Wyndeward]

Brewmaster's Assistant in the Experimental Lab

Byron, with a grin spreading across his grizzled face, clapped Lincoln on the back with a force that suggested more camaraderie than Lincoln might have been prepared for. "Ah, Lincoln, I like your spirit! Not everyone's eager to dive into the wilds with such gusto," he chuckled, wiping his hands on his stained apron.

He turned, rummaging through a cluttered pile of brewing paraphernalia that seemed to occupy every corner of his makeshift laboratory. Bottles clinked, metal clattered, and finally, Byron emerged triumphant, holding aloft a sturdy-looking bucket. It had seen better days, to be sure, but it looked capable of holding whatever strange ingredients Lincoln might come across.

"Here you go, my intrepid gatherer," Byron said, handing over the bucket with a flourish. "It's seen its share of adventures, that one. Even survived the Great Fermentation Fiasco of '77. Treat it well, and it'll do the same for you."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "And Lincoln, keep an eye out for anything... unusual, won't you? The Wasteland's full of secrets, and who knows? You might just stumble upon a new recipe to bring back. Safe travels, and remember, the stranger the ingredient, the better the brew!" With a final slap on Lincoln's shoulder, Byron turned back to his work, already lost in thoughts of potential concoctions.

You gained 1 Action Point!

Lincoln led Dammit a safe distance away from the brewery, just in case and milked his Brahmin. Soon the bucket was full and he returned to Byron with a full bucket of Brahmin milk.

"Afternoon, Byron -- here you go -- one bucket of Brahmin milk!"

[BelGareth]

Brewmaster's Assistant in the Experimental Lab

Byron looked up from his cluttered workbench, eyes widening in surprise as he saw Lincoln approaching with the full bucket. A broad grin broke out across his weathered face, pushing aside the layers of concern and exhaustion for a moment. "Well, I'll be," he exclaimed, setting aside a tangle of hoses and glassware to inspect the bounty Lincoln brought.

He took the bucket, hefting it slightly to gauge its weight, and nodded appreciatively. "That's some fine work, Lincoln. Dammit must've been in a generous mood today!" He chuckled, the sound echoing off the brewery walls, filled with genuine amusement.

Byron carefully set the bucket down, making sure it was secure before turning back to Lincoln. "You've done a great thing here, my friend. Brahmin milk is tricky to come by, and it's essential for a special brew I've been concocting. You've just saved me a heap of trouble."

He reached into a nearby drawer, rummaging around before pulling out a pair of objects wrapped in old, oily rags. "Here, take these," Byron said, unveiling them to reveal two baseball grenades. "These are from my personal stash – relics from before everything went to hell. Consider them a token of my gratitude. And don't worry," he winked, "they're in prime condition, no duds or faulty pins, just good old-fashioned explosive power."

Byron's expression turned thoughtful, then he added, "And you know what? I'm feeling inspired. With this milk, I reckon we can start on that new batch right away. You ever wanted to learn a bit about the art of brewing, Lincoln? Stick around, and I'll show you a thing or two. Who knows, you might just have a knack for it."

The brewmaster's enthusiasm was infectious, and it was clear he was already mentally flipping through recipes and brewing processes, excited by the possibilities this simple bucket of milk had unlocked.

Everyone receives 25 xp

---

Player AP: 5/6
DM AP: 3

[Wyndeward]

Brewmaster's Assistant in the Experimental Lab

Byron looked up from his cluttered workbench, eyes widening in surprise as he saw Lincoln approaching with the full bucket. A broad grin broke out across his weathered face, pushing aside the layers of concern and exhaustion for a moment. "Well, I'll be," he exclaimed, setting aside a tangle of hoses and glassware to inspect the bounty Lincoln brought.

He took the bucket, hefting it slightly to gauge its weight, and nodded appreciatively. "That's some fine work, Lincoln. Dammit must've been in a generous mood today!" He chuckled, the sound echoing off the brewery walls, filled with genuine amusement.

Byron carefully set the bucket down, making sure it was secure before turning back to Lincoln. "You've done a great thing here, my friend. Brahmin milk is tricky to come by, and it's essential for a special brew I've been concocting. You've just saved me a heap of trouble."

He reached into a nearby drawer, rummaging around before pulling out a pair of objects wrapped in old, oily rags. "Here, take these," Byron said, unveiling them to reveal two baseball grenades. "These are from my personal stash – relics from before everything went to hell. Consider them a token of my gratitude. And don't worry," he winked, "they're in prime condition, no duds or faulty pins, just good old-fashioned explosive power."

Byron's expression turned thoughtful, then he added, "And you know what? I'm feeling inspired. With this milk, I reckon we can start on that new batch right away. You ever wanted to learn a bit about the art of brewing, Lincoln? Stick around, and I'll show you a thing or two. Who knows, you might just have a knack for it."

The brewmaster's enthusiasm was infectious, and it was clear he was already mentally flipping through recipes and brewing processes, excited by the possibilities this simple bucket of milk had unlocked.

Everyone receives 25 xp

---

Player AP: 5/6
DM AP: 3

Strangely enough, Lincoln saw the possibilities and opportunities in learning to brew and the like, although he was considerably less enthused about that whole "exploding" business.

"Actually, that sounds like something I would be interested in, Byron. It always pays to keep learning new things, if only to keep your mind sharp! Where do we start?"

[Spartanmoon]

She stops recording and looks over at the two. Made a new friend, Lucky? I have a little work I can do, if you don’t mind watching over me as I do it.

Voyde looks at her companion and shrugs as the man wanders off without accepting her assistance."Yeah, I don't mind keeping watch. Where'r we headin'?" She asks as she runs her hand through her hair and gets ready to follow Natalie.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Lentrax]

We’re on our way to find an, she pushes as she looks down at her Pip-Boy again, Old Man Jenkins? He seems to have twisted his ankle after running from some, uh, ghouls?

[Spartanmoon]

"Yeah, that'll do it. At least he only twisted his ankle. Could've been much, much worse..." Voyde retorts as she gets ready to set out, waiting for Natalie to take the lead assuming she knows where he is.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Lentrax]

What do you mean? Natalie asks, her curiosity genuine on her face. And at the same time revealing just how much of the world outside a Vault she has no clue about.

Natalie looks around, trying to see if there is anyone she can ask about where her possible patient is.

[Spartanmoon]

"Ghouls are what become of people after they've had wayyyyyy too much radiation in their life. Usually it takes a long exposure time, but at the end, some ghouls keep their personality and can continue being people, like you and me. But, others turn into ferals, and they end up hunting like animals and eating anyone they come across." She replies as she follows around her companion.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

[Lentrax]

That’s… not possible, Natalie says slowly, considering.

There is no way radiation could just target a part of your anatomy, effectively destroy it, and leave everything else intact enough to do… that….

[BelGareth]

Brewmaster's Assistant in the Experimental Lab
Byron paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he regarded Lincoln. There was a brief silence, one filled with the distant clinks and bubbling from the brewing concoctions surrounding them. Then he let out a sigh, the sort that seemed to carry a heavier decision than most.

"Lincoln, I appreciate the gumption, truly I do," Byron began, his voice carrying a rare note of seriousness. "But, you know, I've been thinking... It might not be the right time for you to dive into this brewing vocation. Not just yet."

He leaned against a sturdy, albeit rusty, brewing stand, folding his arms as he continued, "The thing is, brewing... it's more than a science or an art. It's a calling. And it's not one that suits everyone, especially amidst the chaos we live in."

Byron looked around the cluttered space, his gaze lingering on the various apparatuses and ingredients, each with its own story and set of challenges. "This environment," he gestured broadly, "it's not for the faint-hearted. And while I've no doubt about your courage or your eagerness to learn, I believe your talents might be better suited elsewhere, at least for now."

He walked over to Lincoln, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "The community, they need folks like you out there, especially now. People who can make a difference, who can help, who can protect. My world," he glanced back at the chaotic charm of his brewery, "it's one of patience and solitude, not exactly the best fit for someone of your capabilities."

Byron's expression softened, a mix of regret and understanding in his eyes. "I'm not turning you away out of distrust or disapproval, far from it. It's just that, in these trying times, we each must play to our strengths. And Lincoln, your strength lies out there, with your friends, with the community."

He released his grip, stepping back. "Go, be with your group, tackle the challenges that await. Old Man Jenkins, the town, they'll need you more than my brews do at the moment. And who knows?" Byron offered a small, encouraging smile. "The road ahead might just circle back here, when the time is right. Until then, keep your wits about you and your spirit unbroken."

---

Jenkins Farmstead

You all meetup, and head over to old man Jenkins farmstead. Each of you stand now just outside the small Jenkins Farm, a kind old ghoul couple. Before you, the front door of the one-story adobe farmhouse is shattered into a pile of wooden splinters that lie just beyond the dark interior of the home. The general hubub of the town is audible even from here, however, from within the farmhouse there is only silence.

Player AP: 6/6
DM AP: 3

[Spartanmoon]

"Well, this doesn't look right." Voyde says as she draws her bow and cautiously looks around the perimeter, searching for anything else amiss as she allows Lincoln to take point.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Voyde Civilian // Sniper | Luck Points: 9 Defense: 2| HP: 13/13 | Initiative: 17 | Poison: 0 Head DR - Physical: 0 | Energy: 0 | Radiation: 0 Rest DR - Physical: 2 | Energy: 1 | Radiation: 0 Longbow - TN: 13 | Dmg: 5CD | Effects: Piercing 1 Qualities: Suppressed | Arrows: 13 Switchblade - TN: 4 | Dmg: 2CD TAG Skills - Lockpick: 3* | Sneak: 3* | Throwing: 3* Other Skills - Athletics: 2 | Pilot: 3 | Survival: 2 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Injuries: None

Spoiler: Dice Rolls

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Perception Survival Attempt - TN: 9 | (3d20)[6][7][14](27)
Bought 1d20 for 1 Party AP