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Stockton Word about Ma Volkner's socks are getting around and people have started making the trek out to get a pair of those warm cushy foot cozies that people don't realize they want and need until they think about it. The journey to Avalon is well traveled, the dirt and asphalt pathways trampled by horses and plenty of feet, and the occassional car or still-running motorcycle. The expanse of Avalon stretches out before them, another hour or two out. They'll reach the city just before the darkness of night, but the sun is already setting, leaving an eerie calm along the road. It's too quiet...
Grover Grover is on the move towards he makes his own socks..but hes heard good things about these special sock...and sides, after he gets a pair..maybe he can copy them and make a fortune knocking them off. He moves along at a decent pace, with his long legs. Carrying his normal things, well normal for him..a huge axe, a killer gun, and a legendary club...yes, he has the best club around for 100 miles..."Socks....something special..not a puffy shirt, but still."
Elsie Surelda wants some socks. It gets cold in the desert at night, and having torn through two pairs already in her time in El Dorado, she'd much prefer something with a bit more stretch, a bit more bounce, a bit more tenacity to them. So, after a few drinks at the casino, with a few other people, the little band heads out. The Sock Patrol, that's what they are.

Surelda has her silver hair pulled up in a crown of braids and under the hood of her grey, cowl-necked poncho-cloak. Beneath that is her unique blue dress, and her boots. Her backpack is slung over her back. "I think we'll probably be spending the night there..." she says, uncertainly, to her compatriots. Her HK hangs over one shoulder. She looks to Grover for his thoughts.
Stockton Something in the distance stirs. The night is interrupted by the shuffling of familiar humanoids. Everyone knows the crunchy patter of feral ghoul feet pounding the pavement in the pursuit of food. The adventuresome duo know what's coming long before the first sight of movement can be seen at a distance down the road. A few packs of ghouls are slavering and climbing over themselves to get at Surelda and Grover both.
Victoria Victoria is on the quest for good socks. Delightful socks. Homemade socks. The socks that will encourage her feet to be happy. Her baseball cap is hung on the loop of her jeans, hair braided back, sciency goggles around her neck, hands tucked into her pockets as she walks along with the others. She just really wants to know what these socks are all about, really, "So, what makes these socks good, exactly?" Asked, her lips curled a little in disbelief that they can be so good that this trek to someones house is needed, "I mean, I'm not discounting the quality but .."
Elsie "Honestly, as long as they hold up draggin' my ass from one side of the wastes to the other every day-" Surelda begins to answer with regards to the socks. But then there's noise, and those big black eyes of hers nearly twitch as they sweep the ground in front of them. "Hold up," she says, raising a hand to stop the nearest person. That's all she gets to say though before the ferals are upon them.

"Oh...." the silver-haired woman breathes, surprise and shock evident on her face. But she wastes no time in slinging her HK off her shoulder, and bringing the weird, oddly-square gun to bear. POP! Right in the chest. Surelda seems surprised that the hit happens. She blinks, lowers her face again, adn another POP. This time, that Feral falls.
Stockton Scrambling over debris and each other, the ferals growl and snap their teeth, clawing at the ground and the cars as they go. A growl looses out at the first tear of a bullet, the second dropping that feral to the ground as its compatriots continue to gather steam, chasing right towards the duo on the road.
Grover Grover hmms, "yes..I see them too..must be some kind of unwelcome party....but if they want to dance, then we dance." as he brings up his rifle, and double taps the trigger a couple times. The first shot slamming into the chest of one of the ghouls knocking it back a bit..of course, this causes the second shot to miss competly.."dang it"
Stockton The other pack of ghouls chose to go up a different path, going around the pile up of vehicles rather than over it. One stutters in its tracks as the hail of gunfire from Grover's rifle smacks into its chest. The growls and snarls are getting louder as the two swarms close in on our heroes.
Elsie "Fuck me," Surelda whispers, taking a few steps back as the hoardes continue to come on them. First from the front, and now sweeping aorund the side! The poor girl, not a fighter in the least, begins to breathe faster, quicker, nerves causing her hands to tremble. The gun goes off in her hand a few times, sending out the methodical machine-gun bursts ... but to no avail. "What do we do?!"
Stockton The ravenous hordes manage to escape being shot up as they continue to climb over the cars on the road, scrambling back to the ground and getting ever closer to Surelda and Grover!
Grover Grover looks at Surelda, "What do you mean, what do we do?...we keep shooting until we kill them...thats how this works...right." As he swings his rifle around, and double taps on the trigger aiming at each swarm...and blowing them away, "See, you shoot, they die...simple enough."
Stockton The last of the ghoul packs falls, very nearly dropping at Surelda's feet as Grover takes the last of them out with a few quick shots. But the night air doesn't present any comfort, and sure enough the rumblings of something bigger appear. The shadow of a hulking ghoul stomps up behind the others. No rest of the wicked...or those seeking socks.
Elsie "Well, yes, I get that, but what happens if we can't-" But then Grover steps up, and begins to mow down the ferals as they charge. Surelda blinks once, twice, impressed clearly by the man's ability to step up and save their asses in a time of need. "Okay," she says, a bit more subdued. Her big black eyes track to the larger ghoul, a lady ghoul, the matriarch of the feral ghouls. Surelda, empowered with confidence after seeing Grover's baddassery, lifts her weapon and squeezes off a series of bursts, tearing through the mother's chest and leaving gaping holes. You can almost see through that one!
Grover Grover grins a bit, "Now this one, this one looks like there going to be real fun" as he slings his rifle over his shoulder. The reaches back to draw his axe..."Number one on the hit parade."
Stockton The resounding shots of gunfire ring out, and the matriarch screams in hideous rage and pain as her torso is ripped to shreds. Her claws gleam in the setting sun and she charges in a blind rage towards Grover and Surelda!
Elsie Surelda takes a half step back, lifting her weapon once more. She's about to fire, but as she slides back, her heel hits a rock. The uneven ground seems to sway beneath Surelda, and she leans back hardd trying to keep her balance. Those shots? They fly wild and hi, up n the air. Maybbe she'll hit a bird.
Grover Grover gets this odd look on his face, as he starts moving for the mamma..."Lets dance lady.." as he leaps up into thew air, bringing the rage axe down hard onto the top of head. Infact the axe hits at the right angle where it slice right through, leaving half a head just hanging there...but he doesn't care, as he draws back and slamms the axe down again into the things just cause..."YES!...this is worth the socks!"
Stockton The big ghoul doesn't even get a chance to scream in horror at the agony of that axe head biting through her skull. The decrepit body falls to the ground limp and lifeless, only twitching under the second thud of Grover's axe. After cleaning themselves up the adventuresome duo finally makes it to Ma Volkner's where she happily trades them each a pair of finely darned socks from the soft wool of her carefully kept longhorns. The secret? Like we're going to tell you! Just know that your toes will be warm, dry and overall with fewer blisters from here out.