[@Letter Bee] 

(I don't use dice rolls much in RPing. As far as I'm concerned if your writing is good and logic sound, it determines the outcome. You gave the mobster a choice he would reasonably accept. He's no fanatic, just a businessma. His character ensures he would always be ready to compromise as long as caps are involved.)


The Mongrel looked at the snipers pointing their weapons at him. Then back at the trader leader. The offer was good. Basically caps for nothing. The Mongrel shrugged. 

"That...sounds like it could be acceptable to us." He said at last. "So give me the 200 caps, then I'll give you the lowdown on the civil war as we see it. I'll tell ya, it's gonna get worse before it gets better." The Mongrel waved a hand at the burning buildings around them. "Your little charity might not even last two days." Morris eyes' narrowed. "And if you haven't wound up your hospital by then, I'll come by for another visit. But with more friends." Morris wasn't subtle, that was for sure. He held his hand out, waiting for the promised caps before giving the trader any info. 


[@Tuxedo Fox]


The goggle-wearing Wastelander's shout echoed in the air for a moment. "Mist of these guys speak English." Carson said after a moment, slowly raising his assault rifle towards the newcomer. "They prefer French, though. The people who settled this land before the War spoke it." He watched the newcomer and his Eyebot for another moment. "But you, you don't look like one of those fanatics. So what are you? A Merc, trader, scumbag, what?" 

The Mister Handy broke the silence with a loud chirp. "Diagnostics complete!" It announced proudly. "I am currently functioning at 67% Operational capacity." It stopped, sensors extending towards the little Eyebot. "Ah, AH-569! I see you are still not on the scrapheap! Shame. Can I get you a drink, Monsieur?" He asked the newcomer. "I have an excellent '77 Bordeaux." 

Carson lowered his AK. If an Order robot didn't see the guy as a threat, maybe he wasn't one. 

Then again, maybe he was. Off in the distance he could still hear gunfire, but with less intensity than before. Since they weren't being swarmed by the local populace Carson guessed that the Order was winning this particular scrap. 

"Find the Captain!" He snapped at one of the troopers standing near him. The Ghoul saluted and headed away through the smoke even though Carson wasn't his boss. He knew how to speak to enlisted men though. He was an officer, after all, even if he wasn't one of the King's.