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Sammy     Sammy is pretty quick to make rumors of anything nifty happen. He's parked Lilly on Sproket, whom he's gently leading along behind him by the reigns, having her hold a beatup canvas bag-o-scrap, with her left hand wrapped in a bandage, "You're a good horse Sprocket... Need to find some planter boxes for my balcony so I can grow you some carrots an stuff." the three of them look like they've had a little bit of an adventure out in the wastes, for the thin layer of tan dust now coating everything, including Sammy's freshly warpainted helmet and chestpiece, though it's Happy Sammy(tm) right now, because the mask hangs undone, and the rifle is totally not looking like an old world chimey over his shoulder.
Vault Girl In the distance you could see a caravan approaching with a column of what appeared to be Legion soldiers marching beside it as guards, except unlike the distinctive blood red cloaks of the Legion, they wore white cloaks.

One of the Lone Star Caravan Guards calls out, "Hold Fire!" In case anyone had any bright ideas before explaining, "We got word they'd be coming in a few days ago out of some place called New Rome out in the west, we told them about the feral ghouls in Roswell but they insisted that they would be fine.. guess they weren't lyin'."
Ruane Roman Raune had made his way out of the western gate to no doubt meet with some of the caravans making their way in and out of the city, on occassion trying to do trade for unusual parts, especially those that traded in things like small springs, servos and screws of unusual sizes. Those sorts of things don't grow on trees after all and wear out in all sorts of ways. The fact that the man has a very obvious limp from a poorly set leg doesn't at all hide the fact that the man really should be bed-ridden instead of actually trying to make an honest cap.

But sometimes Roman lacks in a few things like sense. The sounds of people calling out have Roman perking up from his spot off to the side of the gate, leaning against perhaps a bit of rubble or something to keep weight off his leg as he looks about then, waiting patiently, robot at his side, more armor bolted on though it is unclear if the servos could take the increased weight.
Lilly Caine Lilly Caine lower the hood of her cloak. She inspects her hand, fidgeting with the bandage as she opens and closes her fist. Sprocket snorts at softly as she's lead, farting a thank-you at Sammy's words. Lilly smiles, spotting the approaching caravan, pausing to re-equip the strap over her pistol to secure it. Trade brings sticky fingers.
Ashur Fresh from a meeting with Kurokumo at the Shantytown clinic to get the brace off his leg, the towering Ashur followed the rumors of a caravan from New Rome-- for obvious reasons, the former Legionnaire is intrigued by the stories that have gone around, of a society modeled after Caesar's Legion without the less savory bits. A society that admires the virtues of the Legion and casts aside its failures.

Ashur, of course, has no idea which parts of the Legion this New Rome considers which.

Adorned in his Legion armor, the golden-skinned giant pushes through the guards milling about the gate entrance, kicking up dust around his boots.
Sparrow Sparrow is on her horse, she's got some scrap and leather to get rid of and decided it would be a good idea to just head in with the rest of the group. She siits relaxed astride Bluebelle like it was the most natural position on earth. Out in the wastes she wears her helmets and Duster and keeps an eye on the wastes around thm as equally on the state of the people she's loosely traveling with.
Mack LOOK OUT IT'S A... ghoul?

No, wait, it's just Mack. He's a local, more or less; he's certainly been here longer than most of the locals. Harmless, really.

Mack is up by the gate, tugging on his dusty vest and adjusting his shirt collar. He's wearing an old, pre-War high-collared shirt in red, a brown vest, and black trousers, all of which hang on his stocky but, well, /ghoulish/ frame in a way that isn't... /completely/ awful. He's even got a bow tie, but it's hard to tell how many times it's been chewed by a radroach.

The ghoul adjusts his hat (a Panama hat with a bullet hole in it) and stands behind the battered stall he's got setup. It isn't the sign that draws the eye so much, but it reads 'EATS AND TREATS' all the same. It's the glowing eyes of that ghoul, the way his throat seems to shine with a faint luminescence. His smiles are certainly sunny, that's for sure.

Something smells good, though... and he's waiting for that caravan to smell it.
Sammy     Sammy chuckles and gives Sprocket a good pat on the neck, "I think so too." he agrees with the horse-farts. Sometimes a horse will make this or that noise, and you can pick up on what they mean as a yes or no, he knows a little about horsemanship, but not as much as the other two horse gals here, he leads Sprocket over to stand by Bluebelle, and gives the reigns back up to Lilly.
    He then gives trading the strongbox he had been carrying under his arm his full attention, there's a flicker of movement from inside his duster, and the strongbox opens, rust and more rust falling out, a few pieces of 'Wasteland Toilet Paper' (pre-war cash) flit away, and he picks up something from the mess. A servicible looking leather belt, with a pistol holster, the pistol is wrenched from the leather, and comes out as a fist full of parts and rust scale. The belt crumbles, but the holster itself, is intact. Yay for waxed threads and good oils where they're important. A quick rearrange of his Duster, and he's looped his own Magnum into it, cinching it into the belt of his NCR fatigues.
Vault Girl "Hail and well met!" The lead white cloak called out from the head of the Caravan before sheathing his weapons, the rest of the men and women in the group following suit to show they meant no harm, "I am Adamanthus of New Rome, we come bearing items to trade as discussed over the radio."

Adamanthus eyes Ashur and asks, "Why do you wear those colors still? Caesar is dead, we are free from his tyranny and his rule!"

The Lone Star Caravan Guards went about inspecting the Caravan and group before admitting them into the city, but they seemed to not be interested in getting involved between the two ex-Legionnairres.
Ruane Roman just lifts his gaze up to look at the sign of horses, horses everywhere from his spot near the gate, remaining silent and watching quietly even as his eyes drift closed for a second, hand reaching down to rub at the splint on his leg even as he moves to stand and carefully limp his way further away from the gate to check out what exactly is going on.

That little devil robot of his following not far behind then, the caravan's arrival and the news it spreads causing a momment of confusion before he cuts a glance over to Ashur, also not getting involved but clearly showing interest in the caravan that brought the man to El Dorado, eyes following the people and the goods.
Lilly Caine Lilly Caine slides off Sprocket, dropping the reins as she does, the mare looking to get settled and comfy, releasing a bit of wind like a truck's airbrakes bleeding off. Lilly begins liberating the bag of scrap, letting it fall to the ground with a thunk. She begins fishing out a few items.
Sparrow Bluebelle nickers and blows at Sprocket in equine greeting and Sparrow glances towards Lilly with a little nod. The cowgirl pats Bluebelles neck lightly and the wasteland doctors gaze turns from around them towards the people of the caravan. Checking for anyone who needs medical attention vs. just real good eats. She pops her medkit from her pocket and looks at it before slipping off Bluebelle, taking the cross patch from her pocket and pinning it to her shoulder. She'll get to the scrap and leather being sold later. For now she's looking for injured folk while Bluebelle like the well trained mare she is stands to the side, patient and steady.
Ashur Ashur watches the caravan enter with a severe impassivity; his arms are folded over his broad chest, his brow is furrowed, and his lips are pressed into a thin line that seems unsure if it wants to scowl. When the man in the white cloak addresses him, he steps forward, staring the other fellow down. "Ave," he greets, and the question makes him look down at himself-- particularly his cloak, a ratty, tattering thing of red and gold that looks rather shoddy next to Adamanthus' own white one. "I had heard the rumors. I wasn't sure I believed them; I thought Caesar might still rise from the ashes, with all the strength of Mars."

He hrms, a contemplative rumble. "The armor remains functional. I've nothing else."
Sammy     Sammy's got his hands free, and people are milling about, he takes some time to scrutinize the caravaners on the New Rome side, looking to see, all the little interesting tattletale signs. Are their wagons light? Heavy? Does it look like there's any suspicious body language like anyone's trying to overtly hide something, maybe, something for another ... less savory market. After all, this is an attempt at reforming from an Empire that's entire economy was based on rape pillage loot & burn, for the most part in that order.
    He too takes great interest in watching Ashur interact with the fellas in white. Mostly 'cause he's found Ashur to be at least on the path to reform he'd like to see every Legionnaire and former Legionnaire go.
Lilly Caine Lilly Caine drags the pile of scrap over to Sammy, letting the bag rest on one of his boots. With to slaps on his back, announcing the heavy bag is now his to deal with, Lilly follows her nose over to the source of those aromas.. the food, not the horses.
Mack Mack takes this opportunity to do his thing once the (ex-?) legionaires get within shouting distance. He's got a bit of a rough voice, but he's also got a clearer one than a lot of ghouls around here. It helps that he uses it a lot. "Radroach steaks! Gecko kabobs! Hot and seasoned skewers, stew and sandwiches! Come on down and eat your fill!"

Even odds he gets cursed at by one of the white-cloaks instead of actually getting any business, but he's hoping the coin flips on the other side and his pocket ends up lined with Roman caps instead.
Vault Girl "Then spread the good word that the Tyrant has fallen. New Rome would welcome a strong warrior such as yourself, so long as you are honorable." Adamanthus saluted Ashur with a fist to his own chest.

Some of the whitecloaks upon being cleared made their way to Mack's booth and began to order food from him, willing to try out what the Master Chef had to offer, one man crying out, "BY MARS! THIS IS THE MOST SUCCULENT STEAK I HAVE EVER EATEN! I WOULD SLAY A THOUSAND DEATHCLAWS FOR ANOTHER!"
Ruane Roman shakesh is head then as he listens to people shouting, all sorts of words being exchanged before Roman just sighs and makes his way along the line of the caravan. A familiar sight however will catch his attention, turning to peer at Sparrow, the man will watch for a few momments before moving to approach her and offer a lift of his hand then. "Doctor Sparrow? Medic? Can you check this splint? Made following medical textbook. Likley tied incorrectly. Diagrams unclear. Review perhaps?"
Sparrow Sparrow sighs and glances over towards Ashur after the cries of New Rome fill the makeshift market. There's amusement in her youthful blue eyes but the Doc's weathered face remains tight, premature weather aged sunkissed skin set in an unmoved epxression. Bluebelle sets up nearby Sparrow but remains relaxed other than an annoyed flick of an ear at the shouting. Sparrow sets up a stool and a nice spot for a person to lay on a cot. She spots Roman walking by with his splint and nods as he walks up. "Hey, Roman. Yeah sure, have a seat and I'll take a look for ya." She adjusts her helmet and sits on the small stool to set up her Medkit. "When you get a chance ya should check in with the Clinic and make sure they have a good look atha. I'll do my best though."
Stockton Stockton steps in from the east with a worn and taped together sack of stuff slung over one broad shoulder. The gunslinger walks with purpose into the crowd before slowing down some. Eyes search for familiar faces and new ones. Seeing Sparrow tend to Roman he just gives the pair a chin up before scanning the rest. The caravan? The traders? That has more of his attention, another opportunity to offload the junk taking up room.
Mack Mack feeds the whitecloaks and laughs good-naturedly. "Really, it's comments like that that make this all worth it, you know?" He makes small talk while he serves them, moving with the skill of someone who, by modern standards, is probably some kind of small god of cookery. "So, how was the trip? I used to wander around these ways; been looking for a better place to setup a more /permanent/ location, you know? Think business is good out there?"

Mack leans to the side and waves over at the doc and the patient. "They say nothing cures your ills better than a home-cooked meal," he calls, grinning his slightly glowing grin. He's not... /completely/ repulsive! ...for a ghoul!
Ashur "The Tyrant has fallen," Ashur echoes, gazing west, drumming his fingers at his elbows. "Lanius be in command now." There's a heaviness to his voice, and the expression on his face is one of-- well, what is it? He can't name the feeling. It's in the pit of his stomach and flows upwards to grasp at his chest with icy fingers.

The Son of Mars is dead. Will the god's vengeance come upon them all, and cleanse the Earth a second time in fire? His eyes tilt up, head back, braids swaying as he stares toward the sky and the clouds. Any moment now, it could all end.

"Honorable," he finally says, snorting. "I am a deserter." He turns and walks off from the crowd to brood and ponder.
Ruane Roman just shakes his head as he tries not to smirk at Sparrow bringing out what appears to be half a hospital right then and there as he moves to sit down on the cot then before he offers simply. "Just check the work perhaps? Do the work if needed. WIll visit later." Roman offers then as he moves to shift one of his bags about his person even as he glances aside at the protoscorpion still following him. "Keep an eye on the caravan. Report findings." Roman notes then before lifting his shoulders to look back at Sparrow. "Thank you."
Vault Girl "We have no love for Lanius." Adamanthus replied to Ashur, "Or the Legion." Signaling the Caravan to move forward they entered the city.

The Whitecloak who had been so impressed with Mack's cooking replied, "I would surely eat this food every day as would others, we have no such food as yours in our city."
Sammy     Sammy's learned survival in the Desert, where, if you eat it, and you die, it's poisonous, and if it bites you and you die, it was venomous. Lots of Juniper berries, prickly pear, grilled geko along the way. The aromas are distracting him from a thorough inspection of the Caravan, and he musters into line, making sure his grab-bag of bits and pieces is securely tied off and over his shoulder like a proper hobo bindle.
    "How much for a Geko Kabob, and what kinda sauces you got for 'em?" he reasons, squinting a bit more curiously at the chef's fare. Certainly he could learn more about actual cooking than just, well, the gathering and eating he's done to keep himself moving on to the next step of the journey.
Mack Mack smiles (not toothily, thank a god of your choosing) at Sammy while he's serving one of the legionaires. "Thirty caps gets you this," he hands a skewer full of fresh-cooked, juicy-looking meat, glazed in something reddish, to one of the people ahead in line, "and the sauce of your choice. I've got hot, really hot, and the sweet stuff." He gestures at jars full of colored stuff.

"Not exactly the finest selection," he admits, "but I don't have a lot of space to store things out here, as you might imagine. And tell your friends," Mack calls to the enthusiastic whitecloak. "I'll be here 'til you eat me out of booth and broth! Ha, ha."
Sparrow "'Course, Roman, this is what I do. Let me just tighten this up and get you some new bandages and we can get movin' with the caravan. Shouldn't fall too far behind." Sparrow promises. After all combat medicine is her thing, a mix of quality and swiftness. Something more focused woul have to happen later but she can at least help Roman hobble along just a little bit faster. She finishes tightening the bandages on the reset splint and makes sure it's secure without being chaffing. "Maybe you ought to grab yourself a snack on your way? Seems like it's a good pick me up?"
Lilly Caine Lilly Caine stays by Sammy's side, offering her own suggestions for sauce, and Geko seems to be her preference.. She begins digging out some caps for the meal.
Ruane "need wounds treated. Not be fed." ROman observes in response to Sparrow's words as he shakes his head then, moving to push up from his spot on her cot then after she looks him over before exhaling slightly then before looking about. "Perhaps should move back to town though. Get a proper operation. Set bones better." Roman mutters then before exhaling softly.
Stockton Stockton swings by Sparrow since she's done with Roman, "Need yah to lookit a few things m'self - soon?" he asks before looking back at the traders with some curiosity for their wares. There's a lil limp there, but it's not obvious anymore. Mumbling something to the blonde he chins towards the crowd at no one in particular.
Sammy     Sammy gives a conspiratorial nod to Lilly, and grins, "Kabob to go, sweet sauce please." he is quicker on the draw of caps, and grins back at Lilly to silence any protest, "I'm supposed to, it's still a date." he muses, and drops the caps in the inbucket for Mack, watin for the tasty Gecko Kabob to get foisted over.
Sparrow Sparrow shakes her head, "I dunno, Stockton. I know I'm going to have me whatever's over at the stand over there here in a hot minute though. Smells amazing." She tells Stockton before patting Roman's shoulder and moving to help him stand. "Definately a good idea, I'llbe by to help in the mornin' again, Kumo's been swamped and Iris needs to take it easy a few days. See if I can't help ya then."
Ruane "Kumo? Iris? Both names are familiar. Unknown to me however." Roman responds as he lifts his shoulders then without thinking much as he continues to stumble his way to the front gate itself and move to plant himself on the ground again before exhaling and looking to the Protoscorpion again before shaking his head.
Mack Mack is happy to talk sauce-shop and be jovial about the whole affair until a decision is made -- which it is! "Coming right up, lady and gent!" He gets to work on that. He's humming a tune the entire time. It's some kind of old song or another, and, fortunately, he can actually carry a tune.

The kabob gets prepared, given precisely enough sauce, and passed over in short order. "Here you are: fresh as can be without me killing it and tossing it on the grill in front of you!" He grins. This time it's a bit toothy and a bit glowy.
Sammy Sammy grins and takes the kabobs from Mack and gives a thumbs up, "Might see about a trade later, I hunt 'em, you grill 'em." he nods, "Call me Sammy, they find me usually nearish the Gold Digger if I'm in town." he pads back to Lilly, and moreover to Sprocket, and unless Lilly protests muchly, she's getting fed every other morsel as they head back towards the middle of town. It's been a long day.
Stockton Stockton sighs as he ends up missing pretty much the lot of them. Seeing the rest pile out and back into town, Stock shrugs his shoulder and shuffles a little closer to the food stands. Tempted, but not quite enough to give up the caps it seems. With the last of the town's heard heading out, the gunslinger does too. Shambling back towards the Gold Digger.