ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Cormano The night gives way to daybreak as our heros walk along the ruins of the highway leading back to El Dorado. The events of the previous evening still fresh in their minds. A faint glowing ember can be seen bobbing up and down as one of the figures speak, Any onlooker could likely guess that it was a cigar producing the glow. Accompanied by this is a dull drone of powerful pistons, sounding off in time with each of the other figures steps.

From a distance a small group of figures watch the pair, stalking them silently, licking their lips hungrily at the sight of their percieved prey. Their leader silently motions for his two followers to take his lead. They move like spectres through the dimly lit desert morning.
Rome Rome drones along the ruined highway, following along beside Cormano in his suit of T-45 Power Armor. Held at his side is his trusty AEP7, the low droning of the pistons filling the immediate air around the two with each step Rome takes, "Quiet morning." he notes absently, conversationally. "How's the pistol you found? Good quality?" he wonders aside to the cigar smoking Ghoul in a mechanical tone, the embers lighting the dark morning before his face like a bright firefly,
Cormano Cormano pats the new holster strapped to his hip, worn to facilitate a crossdraw. Poking out of it is the unmistakable butt of an N99 pistol. "Aye, She's in pretty good shape. Enclave boys must keep their gear in decent shape. Not much of a pistollero man myself, so likely 'nough I'll dump it fer the next fancy sixgun I see." He rasps out, "Feller can always depend on a wheel gun." He adds. "How 'bout yerself? Git some kinda pip-boy I saw. She holdin' up alright?". He brushes his poncho aside to inspect his healing gunshot wound, still silently wishing for a spike in rads.

Situating themselves on a high rocky outcropping the trio of stalkers wait, a few miles ahead of the Ghoul and the BoS man. They clutch despirately at their weapons, splinter, ill-kept, and rusty. But deadly for certain. They whisper amongst themselves, too low to be heard by anyone not within their immediate area. They remain in hiding, biding their time.
Rome Rome listens to Cormano, bringing his hand up to show him the hand-held Pip-Boy 2000 model, the 5" x 3" green lit screen illuminating Cormano's weathered face slightly in the dark morning. Oblivious of the bandits they continue along, making conversation to pass the time, discussing their findings from the scarred battlefield outside Vault 30. "Pip-Boy 2000, good enough for me. It has four Holodisk slots." he answers mechanically through the mic and filter embedded in his armored helmet. He draws his hand back to waist height, pulling up the map of the surrounds on it. El Dorado isn't far from here now, they'll make it back by sunrise barring any major delays.
Cormano "Aye, Handheld eh?" rasps Cormano just before taking another drag off of his cigar. "So whatcha plannin' on doin' now partner? BoS got more business in these parts?" He asks, tilting his sombrero back. As they walk along he stumbles over a rusted scrap of metal, perhaps the remnants of some bygone car's muffler. Cursing his luck he reaches down to pick it up and hurl it into the desert. "Iffin' I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck. Hold up partner, gotta git my boot all situated, fella my age gots ta be sure to git their boots on straight. You don't wanna know what'll happen iffin' this thing rubs away too much at my ol' leather hide." He takes a knee slowly, aching joints acting up this morning.
Cormano As Cormano takes a knee to adjust his boot, Rome scans the desert on either side of the road. Up ahead and off to the right side he spots three shrouded figures silently moving through the wastes, headed their direction and likely with Ill intent.
Rome Rome doesn't get to answer Cormano, scanning the surrounds with his built in nightvision while Cormano ties the laces on his boot. "Three shrouded figures moving towards us, they don't know I've seen them yet." he says to Cormano, peeling his gaze from the trio to look down at Cormano's kneeled form. "You done tying your laces properly? We've still got some time before they reach us."

The power armor clad figure lowers the Pip-Boy 2000 to his side, bringing his AEP7 up as he readies it.
Cormano Cormano rasps out a chuckle and rises back up, brushing his jeans off nonchalantely. "Aye, I'm ready partner, good eye." He unholsters his revolver with a smooth ease, A casual observer would simply think that he was reaching for something out of his pack. He glances towards the direction of Rome's gaze and spots them.

The Desert Raiders are well camoflauged against the landscape. However the rising sun inadvertently casts long, noticable shadows behind them, bobbing up and down over the wastes. They seem to note something amiss with their prey however, picking up their pace in an attempt to silently rush them.

However in a stroke of bad luck and in their hurry they are tripped up by an unseen piece of scrap metal, recently flung into the desert. They all tumble down, being tripped up in a comical domino effect, allowing our heroes to take the first move and attack them while they are defenseless.
Rome Rome takes the opportunity to fire off a shot at the Bandits leader with his AEP7 just as soon as the trio scramble up, still collecting their bearings. The laser beam illuminates the surrounding near Rome and Cormano as it surges out. The laser hits the leader in the dick and he faceplants, half slumping forward over the fender for an eternal nap. "Yeah!" Rome shouts through the mic, a mechanical voice filtering out his filter and reaching the bandits.

Rome fires off another laser, hitting the second bandit in the torso, leaving him clutching it momentarily, the clothing there singed and smoky.
Cormano Cormano instinctively drops down low, following Rome's lead. He takes the first shot carefully, sending the round through the would-be ambusher's groin, ending his life. The Desert Raider slumps over his fallen leader, plasma burn from Rome's pistol still smoking. Cormano wheels around, getting himself clear from Rome. He drops the revolver to his hip and begins working the hammer quickly with his other hand, firing off a burst of three rounds. All three rounds fly true, reducing the final surviving desert raider to a bloody pulp.

Without thinking Cormano blows the smoke clear from his barrel, then spins his trusty revolver back into it's holster, once again looking every bit the mummified vaquero.
Rome Rome watches Cormano reduce the last two raiders to a pulp, "They didn't even get to fire off a round." he mocks, lowering the AEP7 to his side lightly now that the trio are lying atop each other.

It turns out Cormano does still have his luck. "Let's loot them and keep moving." he suggests, beginning to drone towards them as the pistons whine.
Cormano Cormano nods a takes a drag from his Cigar, still clenched between two teeth. He rasps out a chuckle and nods, "Aye. Things coulda gone differen't iffin' ya didn't spot 'em. Good havin' ya watch my back partner." He moseys on down to the veritable pile of bandits "Wonder what tripped these here varmints up." He says with a shrug.

Afterwards the Duo returns to the highway, managing to scavenge a few useful trinkets off of the would-be bushwackers. Sun now hanging over their heads as another day in the desert gets into full swing.