Gamma World

[Eldan]

It is market day in the city of Irongate. Traders from across the plains have come with carts full of food to still the cities hunger and luxury goods to fill the nobles' greed and to buy it's masterfully crafted goods to fill their own purses.
Two dozen intelligent creatures, more than the usual four or five that frequent the city can now be seen, and with them their mounts and beasts of burden. A giant Ursin with long, white fur sells heavily salted, red meat that he claims comes from the giant monsters of the frozen sea. A group of squirrels in fine, red coats sit around on a stilt-legged insectile creature that reaches a man's shoulder, apparently discussing the quality of a roll of fabric in a language mostly made up of birdlike whistles. All around them other creatures hustle around, selling, buying and generally making a lot of noise.
But then, a loud bang can be heard. From a high podium in the middle of the square a billowing cloud of smoke rises. As it disperses, a ratling can be seen, clothed in sky-blue robe, holding in his hand a metal cone or funnel, into which he shouts at the top of his lungs:
"People of all, several or no genders, hear me!
I am the famous Salazandrian Pjotr Gorundral Doombringer! Don't worry about my clan's name, I didn't choose it!
People of this city, and of course also visitors, I need you! Well, some of you.
Are you a fighter? Come and show me! Are you smart and know the Ancients? Come and prove it!
Why, you ask? Easy! I'm planning an expedition to the ruins of Amsk! Well, many adventurers have been there, of course, but we will go to the undercity, where the secrets of the ancients are hidden. And the best thing? I don't need most of these secrets, you can have them! Even better, you can have my silver as well.
There will be Action! Adventure! Architecture! Well, ruins of it, at least!
Interested? Come to the Tavern known as "The Skyfire Stone" today!"
Another bang, another cloud of smoke, and the creature is gone.

[Kuma Da]

Elliot West

"Come one! Come all! Pots mended and artifacts appraised. Repairs and alterations made to any fine items you should care to show me.

Is your live metal falling asleep on you? I'll wake it right up. Got an artifact that won't work any more? I'll have it spittin' fire and curin' the sick within the hour, even if that's not what it usually does.

Using the revolutionary new Elliot process, I'll fix any of the myriad problems mechanical you could bring to me. And if I can't set 'em right myself, then on my honor I'll show you to somebody who can.

Looking for a tune-up? Why wait to have your prize possessions made instantly better?! My rates are extremely negotiable and best of all: I'll work while you shop. Don't worry about bypassing bargains on exotic fish meat or shiny powercells. Go crazy with capitalism. Your goods will be ready when you get back."

Spoiler

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Rolling profession: tinker to see if Elliot makes any money off of this. He'll be headed to the Skyfire afterwards either way.

(1d20)[7]+4

[Vox Clamantis]

Einar

Thumbs hooked into his belt and a reed of grass between his lips, a bipedal charger strides through the market, eyes scanning the crowd. He shakes his head and swishes his tail whenever anyone gets too close to him, and its clear that he's none too comfortable in such a large crowd. Although he keeps turning his head from side to side as though looking for something, he doesn't seem to be finding what he's looking for.

At the ringing bang that silences the crowd and brings their attention to the ratling orator, the equine leaps four meters into the air as though springing off a trampoline, hovering over the crowd with a pistol drawn and cocked. After a moment he relaxes, but stays motionless in midair, listening to what the rat has to say. When the rat finishes, he holsters the pistol and slowly drifts towards the edge of the crowd, pulling out a small pad of paper and jotting a note down with an antique pen that he produces out of nowhere.

Well, looks like I have a job after all.

[Jokes]

Lok Minin

Lok wanders the marketplace, looking for his usual iron vendor. He'd been promised a delivery of pig iron, but so far had seen neither hide nor hair of it or his supplier. Lok cursed his luck, without more iron, it'd be almost impossible for him to do much work until he found a new supplier, a feat that took three months last time.

As the ratling appears and thunders off, Lok can't help but feel somewhat curious. If he was going to be out of business for a while, he may as well earn some money at the same time.

The tortoise ambles off to his smithy, and relates the news to his apprentice, Gil. "I'm just saying, you're better at the day-to-day running of this place anyhow, and dealing with customers will be most of what will be done until you," he pokes his apprentice in the chest, "find us a new suppler." Gil, being a purestrain human, had a lot more charisma over others than Lok and his physical build often confused Gil for being the Master, not the apprentice. "Anyhow, make what you can, with what you can, and don't burn the place down." With that, he shuffles off to the tavern.

[yoyorobbo]

"The "famous" Salazandrian Pjotr Gorundral Doombringer? Hmmnn...how famous is a rat who has to announce himself?" Munch wonders.

"Well, I must admit that was quite a delivery." he continues, holding a conversation with himself.

The gatorman, named for his hearty appetite as well as his vise-like bite, was sitting alone, sharpening his twin tridents with his favorite waterstone. He favored the term waterstone over the more commonly used whetstone, as whetstone reminded him of the old nuclear tests he had heard the elders of the village talk about. According to some of them, there were old tales, myths almost, of a so called "Operation Whetstone." Conclusions could be drawn, as they were by Munch, that these ancient tests very likely helped bring about the pure devastation of life as it is known today.

"Are you a fighter?"..."Come and show me!"

The words of the mysterious...famous...ratling looped in his head, brining him back to the matter at hand.

He had hoped for a profitable Market Day, but this ratling's offer of a possible expedition to the ruins of Amsk sounded much more fun, as well as much more profitable. If there were indeed secrets of the ancients buried there, and if Munch could indeed claim some of these for himself, along with some silver from the ratling, then he had better make haste.

Munch gathered up his gear, put away his waterstone, and headed straight to the "The Skyfire Stone."

[Copper8642]

"Quiet down, would ya!"

Morby had been right under the podium when the rat had begun yelling, and wasn't too keen on being deafened.

"Or I'll knock ya from your post!"

Morby began to work his way into the market to see if he could make some money, but then decided that he should actually take into account what the rat had said. Heading back over to the podium, he asked,

"Wait, you looking for a bodyguard or something?"

[Eldan]

But when Morby approached the high podium, it was already empty, the ratling vanished in the cloud of smoke....

The Skyfire Stone is a small tavern, located in a cavernous room just below street level under one of the common large, five story city houses near the famous Iron Gate. It's sign depicts a large boulder falling from a black sky, a tail of fire trailing behind.
The inside of the tavern is surprisingly empty, given the alleged famousness of the recruited. Only the ratling himself is standing in a corner of the room behind a table, looking around nervously whenever the door opens.

[Vox Clamantis]

Einar

Looking around suspiciously, thumbs still casually hooked into his belt, Einar descends smoothly out of the sky and sets down in front of the Skyfire Stone. He likes to travel above the rooftops, where the madding crowd won't ruffle his calm.

Shifting his holsters, patting down his mane, the burly Percheron clops up to the door and opens it, stepping quickly inside and closing the door behind him. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, but he catches sight of the ratling and straights up. Adopting his most professional grimace of seriousness, he strides straight up to the ratling's table and pulls the shoot of grass out of his mouth.

You Salazandrian Pjotr Gorundral Doombringer? Got a look at you in the market. Heard your little announcement, too. Leaving his mouth grass hanging in midair off to one side as though held aloft by an invisible hand, Einar places his palms flat on the table so he can look the ratling in the eye. I am Einar Thorvaldsson. Whatever your problem, I'm the sort of mutant you want to hire.

[Jokes]

Lok

Ambling into the bar, Lok spots the rat talking to a fellow mutant. Noting that it was just the three of them, he figures it will be hard to try and blend in, so he heads straight up to the rat. "I, uh, heard you have a job."

[Eldan]

The Ratling, now looking even more nervous than before, turns around to face you, rubbing his hands together.
"Yes, yes, a job, I have. I pay well. Need people to keep monsters away from me. And remove boulders, probably. Also, someone to shut down the life metal guards. Would be helpful, all of it.
Five-hundred Ub for everyone when we get back, and you get to keep all artefacts we find, except one I'm looking for."

[Copper8642]

Morby walks into the bar right as he hears the rat finish talking.

"I come here for a drink, and I find you again. Sheesh. Well, being it looks like you are looking for a bodyguard, I'm always looking to get out and about....... wait.... do I gotta prove myself against these guys or somethin'?

[yoyorobbo]

Munch makes his way into the "The Skyfire Stone" and marches up to the ratling and the small group he's talking to.

Interrupting the conversation in progress, he grunts "Yep, I'm a fighter and yep I can show ya...anytime, anyplace."

The gatorman is as proud as a gatorman had ever been. He has survived the chaotic wastelands of this post-apocalyptic world, and it has hardened him, both body and soul. He doesn't mean to come across so brash, but he has learned it best to get straight to the point in dealings such as these.

"So...definitely mark me down as part of the 'who'. Now I just need to know more exactly 'what', 'when', and 'where'." he informs the ratling.

"I don't necessarily care 'why'. but tell as you wish." he adds.

[Vox Clamantis]

Einar

Somewhat miffed at having his conversation interrupted, Einar snorts and tosses his mane once while the rat is talking. Without really meaning to, he begins to float a few inches off the floor. Not sparing the others so much as a glance, he stares down at the ratling...and a big horse-toothed smile grows across his face.

You're in luck, old rat. Controlling metal is one of my many gifts. I can heal you if you get injured, or carry you away from danger into the very clouds if need be. I can read thoughts and cast your enemies from your path with nothing more than a glance.

His smile tightens slightly.

But not for 500. Mutants such as myself do not come so cheaply. If there are no valuable artefacts aside from the one you seek, this journey will have been a con job. If we find nothing of value, you will pay me 1000. If I take so much as a single artefact for my own, 500 will be satisfactory.

[Jokes]

Lok

Einar-

Spoiler

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You hear a voice in your head, it sounds a lot like the tortoises voice, but is a lot faster than the languid speech you heard before. "Wow, it's good to meet someone who has telepathy too. Most folk around here get a little spooked hearing my voice in their head."

[Eldan]

"The where..."
The ratling makes a short pause.
"Is easy. We go to Amsk. Ten days southwest by foot. There is a special vault hidden. I know where. It has only once been opened, by a man who did not manage to take anything back with him. You will find artefacts enough, if you can manage to take them. I did not ask for life metal specialists for nothing.

[yoyorobbo]

"In!" blasts Munch. "Count me in."

Munch is a simple being, and as of late a very bored one. He literally cannot wait to get into some trouble, especially if there are goods to be had.

[Copper8642]

"Appears there here for much the same reason as me. I guess I'm in... Though I won't be as demanding as the cocky horse over here..."

Morby glares a bit at the arrogant equine mind machine. Morby had few doubts that the horse could probably beat Morby down just by thinking it, but Morby just wasn't very keen on the horse's overtly large ego.

[Vox Clamantis]

Einar

Too proud to admit that he's insulted, the equine stomps over to the bar, slams a coin down, and grabs a bottle. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he's about to take a slug when he stops dead and turns to look the tortoise dead in the eye.

Lok -

Spoiler

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A very clear voice sounds in your mind, as loud as your own thoughts. Hmph. Haven't met a telepath in six months. Maybe I misjudged you. Any other tricks up your sleeve?

Turning back to the bar, he pulls two shotglasses over and pours some booze into them. As he takes one for himself, the other drifts over to the tortoise standing across the room and stops in front of him as though set on an invisible table.

A toast to our employer.

He tosses back the drink and coughs, makes a face. For all his bluster, it doesn't seem the horse really likes hard alcohol.

[Jokes]

Lok

Einar

Spoiler

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"Oh, nothing really as fancy as yours, but I can help boost your own powers." You can almost feel the tortoise shrug. "I prefer a good defence."

Lok grabs the glass with his own mind, if only to keep it from falling as the horse coughs at the harsh liquor. He grabs the glass and follows the toast. "Cheers."