[hider=Eric]

[center]Eric, Enroute to Salem[/center]

Eric was on his way out of the Castle. After the last few tasks had been done and he paid the remaining caps, his weapons were back in tip top shape. Sure, he could have gotten a lot of other things, but this was something that he had grown to trust far more than other weapon. His armor wasn't the best either, but the repaint on it all was simply stunning to say the very least about it.

He was honestly glad for the cooler night tonight. Most people would tell him that he shouldn't travel at night, and while that is partly true... Eric had an idea of what was going to happen. He had heard the odd report of raiders or bandits attacking smaller groups or singles of travelers and waylaying the hell out of them. Outgunned and outclassed, most of them surrendered, but some times they fought back. Eric was hoping to run into one or two of these on his way to scout out Salem. If it was true, maybe he could put down a few of them...

If it proved to be false, then he could clock it up to bad reports or that he was just wasn't lucky. He slipped off the road once in the remains of the town outside of the castle, walking low with his rifle in his hands. He took his time, picking his way across when he heard voices down the road. It was scattered and muffled, but he could hear them.

“...Big score man. I'm telling you, a caravan always comes down this road. The musket heads are fools most of the time too, they don't bother to patrol this close to their precious castle because it should warn us off. Ha. What fuckin' fools.” A male voice said. “Ya got any more jet?”

Sitting around a small trashcan fire were indeed four raiders. He hadn't seen anyone in these parts in a while. Must be a newer or just foolhardy gang of assholes. Three men and a woman. Damn it... He hated having to kill women. The man and the woman moved off to patrol, scouting if the caravan was heading this way or not. Slinging his rifle, Eric moved through the shadows, aiming to keep as silent as possible.

The puff of the inhaler for jet whispered through the air, and Eric started to count. It was an extreme high, but it was always so short lived. At a quick count of thirty, he raised up from his hiding spot. The man who was with him was rooting through a bag when the first one got a knife the back of his skull. Drawing the blade back out, he pushed the body forwards as it twitched from the rapidly dying cells of the brain.

Falling upon the second, the man cursed out. “What the hell man!? Can't wait for your next hit? Really?” When he spoke, it was clear he was pissed off. When he realized that his friend's blood was now all over him, Eric struck out with the combat knife. The blade found flesh in the man's throat, and the twist and pull sealed his fate.

That was two down, two more to go. A quick search found a note, twelve caps, and a few .32 rounds with their armor and pipe pistols. Yeah, no thanks. He took the note, caps, and bullets, and then pressed on. He had to hunt down the other two raiders that had left on patrol before they could come back and freak out. It didn't take long for him to find them either. The two had used this moment to get off with each other. He had her pressed against the wall, pants off for both of them, and was just going to town. She was biting down on a bit of wood to keep from screaming out. It was great for them, even better for him.

Slipping up behind them, he pulled back out his rifle, waiting for the in stroke and stabbing forwards. The bayonet sliced through flesh just under the ribs and the pain made it so he didn't call out. She probably figured it was a harder thrust until the bullet fired. The .45 round ripped though the both, dropping them both dead on the side of the road. Eric wasn't even going to warrant this one with a search. Let them rot. Overall, a rather fruitful adventure so far! And he wasn't even twenty minutes away from the Castle!

With a shrug, he would look to his pip-boy. It was still working, lucky him, and he knew he would have to radio back to them before too long. He still had a few days however. He could reach Salem in two or three, two if he tried and was willing to risk being on the road in broad daylight. Popping his neck, he would continue down the road, heading towards Salem, and perhaps to see if it was a good place to settle down at like he had been told.[/hider]


[hider=Rook]

[center]Rook – Salem Diner[/center]


Rook at the offered beer. It was an odd thing, he had never been offered a beer before, much less decided to get one for any reason. He tended to avoid drinks like this because he had no idea what it would do him. He had seen dozens of fights after people drank several of these... Perhaps one wouldn't hurt...

He smiled and raised it up, taking a drink from it and shaking his head afterwards. “Rook thinks this drink is funny. Not sure if drink is for him. Rook will still try to drink it however. Don't want caps to be wasted.” Rook said, trying his best to be polite for what was offered to him. After all, he did seem to slightly hurt some feelings by buying his own food.

But he ate a lot, and didn't want to make people broke trying to help keep him fed. He could do that on his own. But she was being nice to him, trying to make him feel welcome, and in truth, it was not a feeling he was really used too. People like Frieda seemed to be the norm, where people wanted to kill him instead of give him a shot of some kind. He knew it was going to take a while to get trust from some people... But he wasn't expecting others to be so open.

Lost in his mind for a bit, he realized he had finished his bottle. He set it aside and looked to Brandy for a moment. “Rook liked that, but Rook will stick with water for now. Rook doesn't want to drink all the beer!” He laughed, smiling a bit at her.

[/hider]