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  • 📅 December 2024 is YE 46.9 in the RP.

RP: 188604 Sand World Dig

  • Thread starter Thread starter Dumont
  • Start date Start date
"I know how to reset him myself you don't need to tell me. Ok lets get started." Ace walks into the cabin and searches for Scrabler being very cautsious as he goes. While Ace could survive a stab from Scrabler's knife longer than a normal person it wouldn't be enough time to get back to civilization if they didn't have the antidote in the wagon. Upon finding Scrabler Ace planned to tackle him from behind. He would try to aviod breaking any of Scrabler's limbs but would if he had to.
 
Unresponsive Robots:

The peppery smell of poison in the air intensifies as Ace gets closer to the hunting lodge. Enough to cause one to choke, but not enough to kill. Inside, Scrabler is hunched over the corpse of what might once have been a young man. It's far from the only body in the room. A pair of bodies dressed in finely woven dresses lay hunched behind a couch, hair fallen out, their skin nothing but blisters and chemical burns now. From the corner of Ace's eye another is in a bed through a door nearby, seemingly an elderly individual. Hunting shotguns are slung up on the wall, taxidermy animals standing around the room. A gold sculpture is on the mantlepiece, depicting a family's coat of arms.

Apparently whoever was inside fired on Scrabler, causing him to return fire without thinking about who else might be in there, it was unclear at what point he desynched.

The machine is on its knees, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his knife and driving it into the mound of shattered ribcage and minced internal organs over and over again, each strike causing a spark in the air and a little splatter as the knife's concussion and shock modifications kick in. Luckily it's enough to keep Scrabler distracted as Ace tackles him, the two sprawling into the bile of gore and shattered bones. The machine that Scrabler inhabits takes a wild swing over its shoulder with the same knife, as its spare hand reaches madly for its grenade launcher on the ground nearby.

Ace has Scrabler on the ground, but not pinned. Tomblyn attempts to get close to the machine's head a few times, but can't get close. He shouts for Ace to pin Scrabler's arms.
 
"You don't think I'm trying!" Ace hooks his arms underneathh Scrabler and pulls back har so that Scrablerler is curved and can't reach behind him. "Can you do it over my shoulder.?"
 
Tomblyn scrambles onto Ace's back, reaching over the larger man's shoulder to fiddle with some wires on Scrabler's neck joints. There's a long moment of madness as Scrabler lets out a bloodcurdling scream and then goes dead for a moment. He slumps down and the sudden lack of tension in his body causes the whole body stack to collapse, leaving everyone in a bloody pile on the floor.

After a few moments, Scrabler reboots. He asks if he started doing anything really weird on seeing himself sandwiched between a corpse and his two companions. But the moment of confusion abates, and the three soon find themselves standing in a corpse-filled hunting lodge. There's a few weapons around, and there might be something on the bodies worth checking.

The dead man Scrabler was stabbing wears a cavalry jacket in Osman Blue, a gold chain around his neck with a medallion carved with the image of a wolf. Over in the corner, a fine revolver lays from where he dropped it, and a cavalry saber is sheathed on his belt. A brooch is pinned to his coat's lapel looks like some sort of decoration for a military order. Maybe a knighthood? But he was dead now. Scrabler complains that his knife is now completely depleted of poison. He must have been stabbing that guy for hours.

Flea looks in through a window and sees the scene of blood and carnage, then goes off around the corner of the lodge to vomit. She doesn't seem to be a seasoned fighter if that's her reaction. Then again she also likely hadn't seen corpses twisted by an agonizing death as their flesh boiled them to death... She has no real input on the situation.
Tomblyn suggests that they might bury the dead. Maybe feeling some guilt for not going with Scrabler to prevent this sort of thing from happening to begin with.
Scrabler suggests just taking their stuff and going. Stating that this guy was an Osman soldier, so he was probably a dick anyway.
 
Ace stood up brushing himself off as best he could. "We take their stuff they don't need it anymore, but we also bury them. They deserve that much at least."
 
A Hard Night Gravedigging:

Everyone seems to agree with Ace's assessment of the situation. At least with a little convincing in some cases. The mountain's earth is hard packed and stony, causing the digging tools to take a beating in the process of digging enough shallow graves for the entire family. All in all, the amount of time it takes to bury them stalls the travel for yet another day. More rations are consumed in the process, but loot has been gained, and the dead have been respected...

Between another shift of backbreaking labor, Flea leans on the pickaxe's handle. "It's a good thing you're covering your tracks. A lotta old nobility fled up here, and they'd prob'ly sign up with the rebellion if they thought they was being hunted like dogs..."

By the sound of things, after the city was conquered much of the ruling class fled after Ace had forced the Osman royal family to suicide. Many of them supposedly fleeing to their hunting estates up in the mountain. These people were probably a noble family in exile, possibly with enough clout to have rallied others to the rebellion's side... Flea seemed under the impression that should they have been discovered murdered there could have been pretty severe ramifications.

Maybe this expedition could wind up making a difference planetside other than through gaining some metals after all?

Once properly aired; the little hunting lodge, although mildly scorched could prove to be a valid campsite. The peppery smell of chemical weapons faintly clings to the area, but there are beds to sleep on and enough firewood to keep it warm. Scrabler and Tomblyn spend a good amount of time stripping anything not bolted down from the lodge... Although in the end, everyone looks to Ace to decide if they should stay the night here, or make camp elsewhere.

Loot:
Gilded coat of arms.
Knight's accolade.
Knightly revolver (9 rounds ammunition).
Knightly saber.
Six side-by-side shotguns (20 rounds ammunition).
Four taxidermy animals (wolf and stag)
Some books (unread)

Losses:
One day's meat rations.
 
Ace looked over to Flea. "Flea ma'am is there any danger ahead? If so we will camp here tonight but if not we will move out since I would like to make some progress today but I leave the ultimate decision up to you Flea."
 
Flea looks to Ace, and runs her tongue over her teeth dislodging a bit of dog-meat in the process.

"No danger that we'd find in the time it would take us to cross the mountains. We'd hit the west approach by dawn if we travel overnight. After that you need to worry about the Mount-River Divide bandit clans. Depends how well rested you want to be once you arrive in their territory. If you leave it to me, we march until dawn then start sleeping by daylight and travel at night."

By the looks of things, the strange vagabond woman was familiar with how the bandits in the area worked. Whatever history she had with them, she wasn't explaining for good or ill. As she explained it, she got to her feet and shouldered her bags. If Ace wanted to back out, now would be the time.
 
Ace paid some respects to the dead family before grabbing what he had set aside. "Ok folks let's go!"
 
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