Steam and Sand Game Thread

[Nigel Wetherby]

Conlan trudged through the open desert, the bounty hunter's unconcious captive lay limply over his shoulders.  His hair hung low over his face, dampened by condensed steam and sweat. The cumbersome armor of the young knight had been shed, leaving behind a trail of black steel behind him, His steps still sank into the burning white sands, the weight of his rescued crewmate finally proving far too much for him.
The world seemed to melt and blur, altering shapes and colors lie a wax sculpture melting in a fire. Conlan hit the dusty earth face-first. As he fell towards the hot earth, he could swear he saw the 7-7 in the distance, kicking up dust like steeds pulling apollo's carraige.

[helios]

Jack lay curled up, on the floor of his broken and shattered auto. Blood spread slowly out from his abdomen. He pulled himself up, using the wall as an aid.
He gasped in pain.
He tore off a piece of shirt, and bandaged himself as best he could.
He crawled out from the auto, and pulled a large sheet of a brownish canvas over himself.
He dug into the sand, hiding.

[Mina]

Kat woke up to the early morning sun reflecting off the hot sand and into her eyes. She stood and looked at her surroundings. Up ahead it seemed that a rig - hopefully the 7-7 - was rapidly approaching, behind was a trail of wreckage.

She looked down and was startled to see the slumped over form of Conlan, nearly unrecognizable without his armor. His face was cut up and dirty, and his hair was a tangled mess. Kat sighed. All this trouble over her.

"Come on," she murmured, as she struggled to lift Conlan onto his feet. After a few moments she gave up, he simply would not stand up, not asleep, at least.

Kat looked towards the oncoming rig, watching it approach. Within a few minutes it had reached her, and passed. It wasn't the 7-7.

Kat scanned the horizon, and soon saw another approaching cloud of dust.

She absentmindedly began drawing shapes in the sand. Even if this next rig wasn't the 7-7, she would wave it down. She had no water, and apparently neither did Conlan.

She drew out a small cloak from her satchel, which through the struggle and abduction had never left her side. She then began working on digging a shallow hole in the sand, and once it was big enough half an hour later, dragged Conlan into it, sat down beside him, and covered them with the cloak to protect from the relentless sun.

Peaking out, she saw that the approaching rig had crossed about half the distance from where she had first spotted it, and where she was.

She settled back to wait.

[JohnSix]

Ben, perched in the machine gun nest, had been scanning the horizon with the scope on his rifle when he spotted what looked like a haphazard signal drawn in the sand.

"I think I've spotted them!" He shouted down to the cabin. "30 degrees to the right maybe another mile or so!"

[Nigel Wetherby]

"His sheild defends the weak..." Conlan began to gasp, his throat cracking dryly, the lack of water slowly effecting his mind, the suit of armor had caued more heat-damage than it had to Kat. He was delerious, obviously.
"His blade smites the wicked. His mind knows only virtue, " He chanted the knight's code three or four times before slowly gaining lucidity.
"It's very strange...I have spent so much of my life commited to...." He let out a wheezing inhale and exhale. "War that I never...." Wheezing once more. "Thought of my own fulfillment alongside my...." He coughed loudly. "..My own...kingdom..."
He reached out, his pale, large hand wrapping around the cloth of her shirt.
"I...I want to know happiness..."

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

The rig chugged to a halt next to them. Royce hopped off, looking Conlan over. He was still a bit tired from having to cut his sleep short with a night chase. He helped Conlan to his feet, offering his hand.

"Good job mate." he said simply. He whistled as he looked around.

"Alright...someone get out here and help me pick up all the pieces that dropped off Conlan. Then we really need to be heading out - this detour has taken us much further east than I would have liked. I would much rather leave Mercia to the west, closer to Cornwall. This here isn't a peaceful border."

He stretched.

"We can take turns at the helm so that everyone can get a bit of sleep before the day really gets going."

[Skinner]

Skinner dropped to her feet from the cabin and jogged, fleet foot across the hot sands to the farther peices of armour, picking them up as she went. She said nothing to Conlan, or Kat; it had been a long night, and she imagined there would be time for a welcome back's and congratulations later. Instead she dutifully, and silently carried back the farther strewn metal parts, and put them unceremoniously on Conlan's bunk. Then she moved back to the controls and waited for the all clear, her eyes scanning the eastern borders.

"With some haste, lads..." she warned quietly, not sure if a mirage was playing tricks on her, or if she could see small black shapes on the horizon.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Royce helped Conlan and Kat on board. He helped Skinner steer the rig back towards the east. He supposed they could just continue on from here - Skinner would know when it would be about the right time to cross to the south. Most of the others took turns napping - he seemed to be the only one who had got any bit of sleep during the night, but that seemed to only make him more tired, wishing to get back to a comfortable bed or at least hammock. Skinner had reported what she thought were rig clouds, but he hadn't seen anything. Soon the rig made a left turn at a large formation of rocks, what Royce assumed she was using as a landmark.

As they turned there was a group of vehicles already waiting there - a group of halftracks. Royce stood on alert, prepared for another bandit attack. But he noticed the flags and armour.

"Pull to a stop." he said to Skinner, already dropping off. A man in grey armour was already approaching him. Royce placed his hands in front of him to show he had no weapons.

"Greetings sir." he said to the Mercian knight. "I hope we find you well?"

"Aye." said the man, who was grey haired and grizzled. He removed his helmet and swept back his hair. "Course I'm only wondering if you're rig there is actually considering on keeping on going south."

"Yes we are."

"You realize that you're crossing a border laddie? An ill-defined one as well."

"Yes, we understand. Don't worry, we won't ask you to rescue us. We'll hold it to our responsibility."

"Hrm. Mercian freedom only extends to our borders. But I'm more worried about you folks making trouble. Figuring that you're going to join the Cornwallian volunteers."

"No sir, we're only scavenging."

"There's plenty of places to do that without waltzing through a war zone."

"Exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, all the good scavenge spots will have loads of competition. No one will be trying that out here."

"I only hope your want of money doesn't impede on your want of life."

"Don't worry. Just putting food on the table."

"Hrm. My ride's patrolling this area. I'll be waiting to see if you come back. Or if you don't. But if you do get involved in a war - you're outside the borders, so keep it outside."

"I understand the pressures  you're under. I appreciate the work of the Knights. I'll see you in the future."

He hopped back on the rig, watching as the Knights revved away in their halftracks.

"They're just patrolling the border." he explained as he hopped back on board. "Which means we must be crossing it. Though I think this patch of land is really neither Cornwall's or Anglia's - so keep a careful watch. Like I've said, not getting involved is the best policy.

He took a seat, noticing Francis was in the cabin with his relative.

"Sorry I didn't get much of a chance to talk. Thank you for intervening on behalf of our crew. Has Skinner told you what we're going about here? I wouldn't want to force your involvement."

[Skinner]

Skinner stayed well out of the sight of the Knights, without being suspect. She turned the burnt and scarring side of her face to them and looked inconspicuous until they were gone. Then she breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they were driving again.

"Can't ne'er be too carefull" she muttered to herself bad-temperedly.

[JohnSix]

Meanwhile in the sleeping quarters Ben was using his slightly limited medical skills to look over Kat and Conlan.

Conlan was still unconscious but his breathing and heartbeat were strong. Aside form various cuts and scraps, which Ben had cleaned and dressed, there was a worrying swelling about Conlan's ankle. Ben couldn't be sure if it was broken until Conlan woke up. But in the meantime he bandaged it and made sure it was comfortable.

"Right, your turn" he said to Kat "let's take care of that cut." Pointing to the cut were her captor had stuck her.
Ben added a little disinfectant to a cloth and said, "this might sting a bit."

[Aeryenne Tederich]

Scarlette watched and listened to the exchange between Royce and the Mercian knight with some interest from her vantage point. Having lent a hand on getting Conlan and Kat aboard, she now stood at the forefront of the rig, enjoying the breeze as it trundled onwards.

One phrase in particular stood out to her above the others - <i>"I only hope your want of money doesn't impede on your want of life"</i>. She smirked a little, staring off into the distance. Scarlette was reckless. Many a time she had risked bodily harm for the allure of something shiny, but she knew she'd never learn, and she had no real desire to - she'd been lucky so far, after all. Of course, she was not so foolish enough to believe that her luck would never run short - on the contrary, she fully expected that one day she'd get herself into something that she wouldn't be able to get out of - but she fully intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

But of course, it was rather different now. Now she was working in a team, and one wrong or selfish move on her part in a tense situation could have terrible repercussions. She'd have to be far more careful than she used to be - however prepared she was to put her on life on the line for material goods, she certainly wasn't prepared to risk the lives of her crewmates.

[Skinner]

Skinner looked around, glancing to make sure no one was paying attention... Then she leant out of the cabin. She had seen Scarlette go out there, and allowed herself a selfish moment to watch her.

Women were trouble, there was no doubt in the rig-driver's mind. They were trouble because they attracted it, and everyone around them, too. Such curves, and delicate, intricate details. Silky soft hair, tender skin... and colours! The colours they came in were astounding! No wonder they were trouble- They brought men together like flies to sugar, and too many men together created an aweful competition.

Skinner realized she was grinning. She was leaning on the heel of her right hand, elbow propped up on the window sil, gazing down the observation deck, watching the wind whip Scarlette's coat and muss her hair. She hoped she hadn't been noticed, But she strained inside- she hadn't done one playful thing since joining the 7-7. The night before they left had been her last... relief from desert lonesomeness, as had professed the smudge of lipstick that had been on her collar that morning. And she felt lonesome and sore- she had been all geared up for her dose of lovin'- not to mention love making, as well- to be disappointed and heart broken. She felt a nasty heart ache, and the only other woman aboard in her line of sight was... well!

She could barely contain herself when she wolf whistled loudly out of the cabin window. Then she ducked quick as a flash back inside with a snigger and went back to the controls.

[Mina]

Kat winced as Ben applied the antiseptic.

"Thank you. Try putting this on it, too," she offered out one of her strange powders. "Maybe I'll be able to stitch it up later, when the swelling goes down."

She thanked Ben again as he finished and stood up, then pulled out the book she had borrowed. As she began to flip through the pages, she remembered what Conlan had said to her before the crew picked them up.

She continued to ponder as she read, but the words on the pages had no meaning. She was too busy thinking.

Perhaps, she thought, perhaps something could be done. But what?

[Titus Wells]

Red was in the charthouse mulling over some old maps of the south west. Unfamiliar and antiquated place names held him enthralled. None of these places existed any more of course. Occasionally tales would reach his ears of bandit raids and sinister rogue mechanines wandering the deserts and moors until their gears seized, their fuel rand dry or they mired in some desolate swampland, the fires in their eyes burning out and their vacant visages staring eternally into the distance. He hoped at least some were true, but he'd seen enough bandit activity for a while. In an hour or so he might venture out again and try to find out just what that was all about back there...

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Royce was still considering the sudden event of last night and was trying to piece it all together. He went into where Ben and Kat were.

"You feeling alright?" he asked the girl. "And do you have any idea what that was all about last night? I know that some bandits will take younger folk as recruits - but right from an atrium? Do you have any idea what his motives would have been for nabbing you? If there was one, we'd best all be careful in the future - someone willing to risk a full blown kidnapping in an atrium will probably have no qualms about trying it again on a quiet desert night..."

[Mina]

"I'm fine, but... no, I can't think of any reason." Kat thought back, trying to remember anything vital.
"Wait. At the Bromwicham Atrium, there was a notice. Someone was looking for me." She decided no to mention who. "Later I noticed that it was gone. Perhaps they or someone who saw the notice caught a glimpse of me while we were in Brizzle. I know it would have to be an awful big coincidence, for them to come to Brizzle at the same time we did, but it's all I can think of."

She glanced at Ben. He too had seen the notice, and he knew who was looking for her. Of course, she doubted her brother would hire someone to kidnap her - he shouldn't have the money for that - but if he was offering a small reward for her safe return, then someone might find it worth their time and effort to track her down.

[Aeryenne Tederich]

Scarlette was suddenly jerked out of her thoughtful reverie, jumping slightly at the whistle and staring over her shoulder for the perpetrator. No sign of anyone. Who on earth...? She couldn't think who it might have been...as far as she was aware, she certainly wasn't an object of attraction to any of the crew...

Nevertheless, as she turned back to face the front, she was smiling slightly. She couldn't help but feel a little flattered, even if whoever-it-was had meant it in jest - Scarlette didn't get compliments often, so even as something as simple as a wolf-whistle (hoax or no) lifted her spirits a little. She stayed watching the horizon for a little while longer before, as the temperature began to drop and the wind lift, she raised a hand to push her hair out of her eyes and decided to head back in - she could do with a drink, warm her up a little. As she wandered down to the kitchens, she shed her coat and tossed it into her cabin as she passed, still absent-mindedly dwelling on who the culprit could have been.

[Skinner]

Skinner had her eye, or ears, on Scarlette all the way from the front of the engine to the kitchens.

"Oh, lass!" she called, as if just noticing her. Although, she had only just noticed what a figure she cut without the coat on. Oh Merciful 'enry...
"Em-" She cleared her throat first. "Could you do an' old, tired thing a grave favour?... and make me a sarnie? Glass o' water'd do nice, too."

Then she turned non-chalantly back to the engine controls, tweaking their directional levers slightly so they didn't go careening into a small boulder a couple hundred yards away.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Royce furrowed his brow.

"Someone looking for you?" he asked. "Did you happen to see who? In fact, do you have any idea why anyone would want to be looking for you?" He saw the reticence in her face.

"Look - whatever it is, you're on this crew, so I won't hold it against you. But it would help me plenty if I could know just what is going on. I need to know something like that to plan our moves - and even to protect you."

[Mina]

Kat let out a heavy sigh, and the words rushed out.

"It's, well, complicated. Except, not really. It's just, well, I kind of just ran off from home without a second look back, and so my brother followed me and he's offering a reward to anyone who can bring me home. He's just so worrisome and protective, and when I realized he was following me I just jumped on board with this scavenging idea. But I don't really think that he's the problem, it's whoever took down all the notices that I'm missing. Whoever it is apparently wants the money really bad, and by extension, myself."

She took in some air, having let out all the words in one breath. It felt kind of nice to tell someone that she was technically a run-away.

"Conlan did quite a bit of damage to both the man and his auto, so I don't believe he'll be catching up to us any time soon, if he isn't dead already. He was probably scared off, so more like than not he'll just give up. Fighting off a steel-clad knight, and the crew of the 7-7 doesn't seem like it would be worth a small bounty for a girl like me. I'm too troublesome." She smiled weakly, hoping that she was right. She really didn't want to go home.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Indeed you are troublesome." Conlan coughed, sitting up rather grogilly. His ankle pulsed with white hot pain which caused him to inhale a sharp breath.
"Miss Katherine, it is good to see you alive and well. Or we have both died and I was less of a good catholic than I figured."
He ran his fingers across his forehead, still sticky with sweat's residue.
"It was a good thing you found us when we did. I doubt I could have lasted much longer."
He placed his hand on his shoulder where the blade of the kidnapper had sunk in. He let the pain wash over him, letting him know his acts of heroism were in fact real.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"Quite" said Royce. "That was some sterling bravery there Conlan and I thank you again for keeping Kat from the clutches of whatever he is." He paused. "A bounty complicates things, but not too much. Like you said, Conlan did some heavy damage. Plus - the reward can't be that high, I agree with that - else we would be swarming with bounty hunters and ones who could have us dead in a heartbeat. So I suppose we will just be watchful."

He moved up to the cabin, seeing Scarlette exit. He then saw Skinner and Skinner's face made her train of thought pretty obvious - well, to Royce at least. He was fairly good at watching folk. He wasn't sure how it would affect - but that was something he'd deal with if it came up.

"So Skinner." he said. "Is your cousin staying all the way? I'm sure we won't mind giving the treasure another sharing split. Speaking of which - have you looked at Ben's maps? Any idea how far it is to this place?" He'd heard it wasn't much farther south to the ocean - but he liked to see things with his own eyes as evidence.

[Skinner]

Skinner's grin didn't falter as she watched Scarlette go, but slightly changed to something more business-like when Royce arrived.
"My cousin? I know not, sir. He's- well. He's like me, a bit, but worse. Blows wherever the wind takes him. True Desertman, he is. You'd have to asks him yesself."

Then she turned to the maps, that she had leavered from Ben and tacked carefully to the wall of the cabin, and was checking her compass against. "It's not far, no. We're about here." She tapped a point on the map that looked to be just north of where Sailsbury once was. "So it's just about time to turn south, If we hit here-" She pointed to the ruins of Basingstoke "-We've gone too far. We want to get around here-" she moved to a small mark, 'Southampton'. "-By sundown. Now, it's been a while since I've been this far south. Is there an Atrium 'ere yet? I thought I heard tell of one. One way or another, we're gonna have to find a way to cross to the Isle. That might be going down through the Southampton Waters, there, to where the channel to Cowes used to be, if the water's all dried up. If it's still wet, then we're gonna need an aquatic rig. Or a flyin' machine. I'm rather alright with flying machines..." she scratched her head and looked at the map.

"I dunno. It's too easy. Sailsbury is such a no-man's land, an' yet everytime I've passed through it I've found some new peril or another. D'yeh know, the Druids are trying to rise up? Sort of like them Luddites but stupider..." she tutted, then turned sly.

"Say, Royce, my good man... what think thou of young, fair Scarlette, eh?" she muttered in a hushed tone, barely containing a hoarse chuckle.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Druids are worse than that." Conlan stated, his voice dropping an octive. "We have them in Ireland. Mad things, they are. Nothing's worse than an already mad religion put through circumstances of utter insanity. If england druids are anything like Ireland druids we might all be better off in armor. "
He held his thumb out, pantomiming the use of a dagger.
"They think the earth is angry. They try to please it any way they can. The ones in Ireland say that the earth is punishing them for letting St. Patrick convert them.  Religions with angry gods are the worst gods out there."
He slid his thumb across his neck.
"Any follower of god would be smart to simply go around or take another route."
His grave tone suddenly shifted back to his seemingly contented self.
"But you never know, perhaps it naught  but an issue of region."

[Skinner]

Skinner almost looked like she could have bit a bullet.
"Can't you ne'er take light o' nothin, Rusty?" she chided over her shoulder from the Cabin. "Quit thy worryin' an' sleep, or take a whiskey. Or summat. No Coffee, though."
She rolled her eyes and concentrated on easing their heading south with a grumpy mutter.

"And who said anyfink about following God? Not my sort o' thing. Best put yer faith in yer own ability to aim yer pistol an' navigate the world." She rounded away from the controls and sneered, tapping the coal burner. "If yeh put thy faith in anythink, put thy faith in this bloody engine. She's all that we got, right now. Her, an' us." Then she began a whole new tirade.

"If God's so Grand he can come have a drink with me an' explain exactly what he's playin' at. I tell yeh, that's why I likes the Americas. They put no faith in nothin' but their Mechanical Horse an' their six-round. Like me." she drew her revolver and spun it around her finger, to make the point, then holstered it back.

"Thusly, if any 'follower of god' would be 'smart to go around', I'd be more inclined to pass through an' run the beggars o'er. But, that's Royce's call, not mine."