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| Makin my way downtown; solo | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 18 2016, 12:36 PM (37 Views) | |
| RAM | Jul 18 2016, 12:36 PM Post #1 |
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Vault dweller
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Pack loaded and ready to head out on his return trip, Louis begrudgingly looked to the badlands before him. The sun hung low in the east, yet to rise beyond the distant hills. A fading chill still clung to the air, mostly in thanks to the absent rays of sunlight upon the wastes. Louis pulled his duster tight around him and shrugged his shoulders to adjust the straps of his backpack. A sizable distance stood between him and Buckettown, fifty miles as far as he judged from his way here with the caravan he'd since dropped off. A pair of hides, a few items of note later and he was ready to make the long trek back. He'd be doing it alone but at least he knew he wouldn't have to worry about keeping anyone but himself safe. Worn boots clapped lightly against the dusty surface of the trail he walked, an alternate path from the one he used to reach the outpost. On his way there, they'd had their own fair share of run ins with raiders, meaning that particular trail probably wouldn't be safe for a while yet. Thankfully, he still had several options to reach his home destination without taking excessive risk. Louis had always planned his routes along trails where fresh water would be available, which meant its own sort of dangers. Hard to come by, sources of non-irradiated water were often magnets for creatures of the Wastes and raiders alike. So, he'd have his own risks to deal with but if all panned out well enough, the only thing he'd have to worry about were mongrels and similar animals. Long upon the trail, soft footsteps carried the man over rough terrain and open plains alike, the rising sun beating down on the lone figure. Hat pulled low, his sharp and cautious gaze seemed to never falter in its three-hundred-sixty degree watch of the world around him. Canny, Louis always favored a perceptive view of the world, it kept him alive where most others would've died a painful death. So of course, the weathered man's head always kept itself on a swivel, lending to his long term survival in this dangerous world. Still sore from the travel from Bucketown, Louis didn't set much of a goal as far as distance went. He had enough food on him to sustain himself for more than a few days, and with a freshly filled canteen from the outpost, he'd have enough water to get him to the first watering hole during his trip. Musket slung over his shoulder, it fell low and into his arms as the solo trail blazer dipped near his first stop along the way. It was a spring that had cut itself through the harsh rock of the earth over the centuries, tucked along a rock face and hidden by the terrain fairly well. Given the lack of footprints in the area, he didn't expect any other people, ghouls or soft skin had discovered the spring just yet. Though, just because there was an absence of human life didn't mean there was an absence of life altogether. |
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Louis Shepard - Mustketman for hire S:5, P:9, E:7, C:3, I:5, A:7, L:4 Level: 1 Weapons: Home-made Musket, Switchblade Armor: Duster Inventory: GC BB Gun, Broken Tire Armor, 2x Hides, Improvised bedroll, canteen, whiskey x1, musketball mold, improvised powder flask x3, 3x3" steel mirror. Appearance A middle aged, caucasian man, he's roughly 5'11" with a conditioned figure. A partially groomed beard obscures most of his face, while cool, blue eyes watch the world around him. He walks with a long, purposeful gait and seems light on his feet despite his worn look. | |
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6:23 AM Jul 11