|Beefrow||It was late at night, and there was a full moon shining down on the wasteland. Not a single cloud marred the open sky, clear and fairly warm, save the chilly night air blowing from the north-west. Highway 54 stretches off into the darkness north and south. Anyone out here this late at night is on a long journey west from El Dorado, is crazy, or is lost.
One of the three, Beefrow Thurgood stands atop his gutted out, rusted up bus frame, staring off into the wilderness, about fifty yards off the side of the highway.
|Tomas||Sometimes, life can have a way with coincidencies. Tomas decided to leave the safety of the city: The young soldier just wanted to travel for a bit. He was hoping to be home by sunset but an unfortunate wrong turn had made him take a longer return trip. So now he walks, eyes and hears closely atuned to his surroundings, a hand placed on the stock of his laser musket. This is the wastelands and he sertainly knows that people sometimes die out here.|
|Beefrow||Beefrow breathes in the cool night air, and hops off of his bus. Turning north down the highway, he starts walking, taking another night patrol and conserving water.
It's not long, however, before he spots Tomas walking his direction, near a group of cars. He unslings his sledgehammer, and starts walking towards the figure hidden by the shadows of night, calling out boldly in a deep, bellowing voice, "You there! Hail!" He lifts one meaty hand, still approaching.
He wears strips of gecko leather turned into tight leather armor all over his form, and an old plastic 'Indians' football helmet atop his head. Save the sledgehammer, and the ragstad loincloth he owns, he carries nothing with him. His mountainous frame rivals that of Ironface Jones, and his steps are easily heard.
|Tomas||A low sigh escapes Tomas's lips. Great, a probable raider, just what he needed. The soldier's hand leaves his rifle: From that distance, firing it would be too difficult. He pulls a wastelander slugger from his back, the barbed wire wrapped around the bath being noticeable by the other man. Tomas looks at the other man as he approaches, standing his ground. "Yes? Is there anything you need?" The youth asks, his tone being polite and soft.|
|Beefrow||Stomping towards Tomas, but halting just ten yards short, Beefrow puffs out his chest, "You are on Thurgood's Highway! You will pay me, Beefrow Thurgood, the toll, or I will beat you silly." He says this matter of factly, as if not even trying to intimidate Tomas. "Twenty caps, or two bottles of water." He looks around, slowly surveying the empty highway, "Are you alone? Are you Legion Scum?"|
|Tomas||Tomas shakes his head at the other man. "No, I'm not with the legion. I'm from El dorado's militia." He explains, still speaking calmly. "You could have just asked for water, you know.. I would have shared it with you regardless." He opens his backpack, pulling out two bottles of water and some canned food. "Here, there you go." He continues calm, seeming to ignore the man's rudeness.|
|Beefrow||Taking the food and water, calm despite his own rudeness, Beefrow asks, "El Dorado Militia. They are not as strong as they think they are, or as most think... But they have good PR." He gestures down the Highway, "You are welcome to My Highway, for the rest of the month." He sticks the two bottles of water into his waistband, watching Tomas, "But you are not Legion, which means you will live." He peers back the way Tomas came.
"Why are you here?"
|Tomas||"We are good enough to deffend our city and to uffold our laws." The youth repplies in an easy tone. "I don't see why we need to be better then that." He closes his backpack, taking a step back. "I just needed to leave the city for a bit. I decided to explore and accidentally made a wrong turn." He peers at Beefrot for a moment. "May I ask why do you have such a strong dislike for the legion?" His tone now changes to one of curiosity.|
|Beefrow||Gesturing further down the highway, Beefrow explains, "They came here, with their slaves, and their orders, twice. Me and Ironface Jones fought well that first day, slaughtering many of them. I freed their slaves, and inseminated many of their grateful women." Looking back to Tomas, the big man continues in his gormless voice, "The second time, it was the Enclave Legion. These are the same ones, yes?" He nods, not waiting for an answer, "That time, I help the El Dorado Tribe push them back, and I steal their things." He pats a pack on his waist.|