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Matt The plan has been set up for a week now, everything came together for the most part. Wagons loaded, people assigned to the wagons. Matt has Shiloh, Surelda and Rolande up on his wagon, pulled by two horses borrowed from Lone Star's stables. New Rome was asked to provide a team to head towards El Dorado, and meet at the typical ambush site on the long scenic caravan trail. Devlin and Co had smashed an enclave camp in the vicinity to help clear the way.
    First step was early morning raid by the Militia on the scouting camp keeping eyes on El Dorado's gate. The overwatch camp was wiped clean from the wasteland, nothing but campfire and dead enclaves left. As the sun broke the horizon, the wagons start moving, Matt's out in front with a few latecomers, namely Iris to make sure Matt didn't pick up any *additional* wounds that she'd have to deal with. Preventative care and all.
    New Rome's team consisted of Ashur, and Vuk waits an hour or three before heading south as well.

Vuk Vuk had his own transportation, the growling Harley, festooned with his own kit, a minigun strapped to one side, his HK across the handle bars, you know, in case it is needed, and his heavy pistol on his power armor it self. He was candidly waiting for Iris before following any one, willing to ignore any others who make bark orders at him, he was here solely at his own behest to find trouble, glory..and mostly, new kit. Always in need of wealth, kit, ammo, supplies. To stockpile away in his bunker, for..he isn't sure yet. "Iris, care to ride with me?" He says after unsealing his helmet to watch every one with his natural senses.
Rolande Sat up on the side of the wagon was the former Ranger Rolande, crimson lens turned on the rising sun's horizon. His service rifle was cradled in his arms loosely as he was bumped and shifted from the wagon creaking along the path. True to his nature, he was intent and focused, deathly quiet on the trail just as he had been when they first assembled rather than fill the void with chatter.
Shiloh      Shiloh double checks the supplies in their wagons and makes sure that everything that needs to be is tied down and secured. "Looks like everything's in order here..." She decides and then she starts to climb up to where she was to be sitting. "Everything looks in order, Matt! We going to be setting out soon?" With her short sleeved shirt, her bandaged arms are easier to see. She looks out over Vuk and Iris while they get ready to go and then looks back down at her BB gun in her hands. She frowns gently to herself and turns it over to inspect it more closely. "So...Rolande..." She asks him, glancing over at him, "Do you have any...advice about how to shoot better? I've hit a radroach a couple of times but they don't move very fast...what if I can't get the crosshairs over it?"
Iris Lark "Thank you, but I'm okay to walk. I'm not...very fond of motorcycles." Iris says, smiling at Vuk before she continues to walk along with the wagon. "I hope whatever we run into doesn't trash that bike, it's pretty nice." She mentions as she glances around, keeping an eye out for surprise trouble as she walks, idly tugging at the straps on her leather as she walks.
Elsie Surelda is here ... in voice. "Scarlet Caravan, this is Silver," her voice crackles over the pocket radio in Matt's wagon. "Status report please." What is normally a quiet, almost meek voice in person seems to take on a sultry quality when Surelda's lips are pressed up against the mic. It's entirely accidental. Well, mostly accidental. Anyone who says they get on the radio and don't worry about the sound of their voice is lying.

For now, Surelda has alternating between swing jazz, smooth jazz, and updates about different caravans that are starting their respective journys. This caravan, it seems, has been named Scarlet. For the legion's choice of scarlet capes, she'd have told anyone in person who cared to ask.
Matt     Deathly quiet is not something Matt is. At least not during the start up, plenty of people to keep moving on the other wagons behind them. But once they set out, hes got his own rifle across his lap, reins in hand of horses he is unfamiliar with. Not the best sort of situation, but its something. "Shoot with empty lungs, hon. 'Specially if they are far out, don't want your breathing to wobble your crosshairs." Its simple advice, and probably advanced for someone only trusted with a BB gun.
    A few songs get requested over the radio, 'Aint no Sunshine When Shes Gone', and various other things from other wagons. Everyone is getting keyed up more and more, especially once the motorcycle and wagons split, for Vuk to start climbing the outer walls as the wagons descend into the box canyon, straight into a well-made trap.
Vuk Vuk keeps his bike barely moving until it's time to move into position, blowing a kiss to Iris. "Stay safe my beloved, and don't worry about the bike. I don't intend to ride into a crossfire." Then his armor seals up and he guns off to get into a better position. Waaaaaagh!
Shiloh      "Empty lungs...okay." Shiloh starts to say, though she does reach out for the receiver that can be used to communicate with Surelda, "Everything looks A-OKAY so far. No complaints so far! Supplies are looking good, everyone's moving out alright. We'll keep you posted if you just keep the music coming." She sets down the radio for now and tries to pick up the radio with a worried frown as she toys with the gun on her lap. "Probably not going a great shot, but if I can I'll try to aim for the eyes if I can. Always hear about how these things can put 'em out..."
Ashur Ashur's steps set the earth to frightful shivers -- and why would they not, clad as he is? The behemoth lumbers in plates of riveted steel inches thick, painted a white so pure it glitters in eye-aching fashion beneath the similar chalk-brightened length of his excessive, shoulder-wrapped cloak; his face lies hidden from all sight by the helmet of his salvaged power armor, the borders of it twisted to sharper points to resemble a Legionnaire's galea, and the top of it sits impaled by a stout spike, upon which is mounted a transversal crest of colorful plumes.

There he stands, then, atop the world -- all painted white and outlined in gold, with the monochrome of the titan's shroud broken only by the feathers and the crimson-white belt that hangs his skirt of frilled thongs.

Around him are a few of New Rome's finest, armed and adorned in similar fashion -- white cloaks, lesser armor, more ranged and melee weapons. The brute himself needs only his power fist. They are set near the ambush sight, having lingered in a shaded and well-hidden alcove upon the cliffs, waiting to descend and rappel when the signal was sent.
Matt     The horses slow as Matt pulls on the reins a bit, turning to the ones riding his wagon. "We're here. I'm like, 80 percent sure we've got mutants up on the canyon walls, and done in the canyon with us. We'll be fine, don't worry about the ones up to. Plenty of folks to deal with them. The ones in the canyon are ours, and we've got plenty here to handle it." Maybe not...the best pep talk but its something he needed to say. "Stick close to the wagon, feel free to drop behind it for cover but stay together."
    The time has come, after a few winding roads, Matt digs into the pack at his feet and pulls a rusty gun with a large barrel out, checks to ensure its loaded before pointing it skyward and squeezing the trigger. A loud WHOOMP echoes from it, against the canyon walls as something sings high into the sky and bursts into a bright green ball of light, floating and hovering in the sky. Then the wagon turns the corner and out of rocks and small alcoves comes the enemy.
    Two amalgamation of horrors are astride the trail, large human heads above collections of horse legs, scorpion pincers and gross evil. Regular mutants pour out of the walls and come clamber, crawling then running on two legs to charge the Wagon.
    The Canyon walls are where the crazy really is, Super Mutants with large ranged weapons made of pipes and ingenuinity ready to spew hot death upon the caravan. A molotov sails down and crashes high on the canyon wall, fire igniting in the air and dispersing before it hits the ground.

        Two centaurs in the canyon, with 2 swarms of mutants. One Super Mutant behind them directing traffic and enemies. Above, two supermutants for a certain Ashur to deal with, along with plenty of NPC supermutants for NPC Legion to deal with.
Rolande Although Rolande did not answer verbally, he'd nodded the dark gunmetal of his Ranger's helmet to assent to the young man's words; Supermutants were something that he was familiar with, and he knew this fight would not be terribly easy. He kept riding the side of the wagon up until the precipice of action, leaping off to land with a booted thud and the clank of the armor and gear hidden underneath the worn duster that framed his body.

"Shiloh, stay where I can see you!" He'd called as he pressed his weight into the wagon, giving his service rifle a swift once-over before poking around the cover that the caravan provided, using its construct as a lean-to and beginning to take aim as the signal flare bathes everything in a sickly yellow hue through his lens.
Shiloh      "Wait, wait, wait..." Shiloh starts to tell Matt, frowning at his report of how things are going to be. "You mentioned...there was going to be trouble. But you haven't said a thing about mutants!" Her voice stays hushed but there is an urgency behind it, "You know I got pushed down and chewed on by just a ghoul. A -normal- one! One that mercenaries can probably...mow down by the dozens! Couldn't even handle one!" Without realizing it, her hands clutch her BB-gun with white knuckles. "This probably can't even get through their hides!" She mumbles to herself fretfully.

     Her eyes never leave Matt while he's setting up the barrel, despite looking lost in absolute confusion. She tenses up as the light paints the sky and her eyes dart back down the path to look at the abominations of mutants as they creep away. She raises up her BB gun with trembling hands as she tries to level off a shot. The firefight up on the Canyon walls steals her attention briefly, the shock nearly making her lose her grip on her gun entirely. "A-Alright.." She calls over to Rolande, seeming not ready to leave her perch that it the wagon for now.
Ashur The air splits with the rise of a second sun; the cohort marches.
Iris Lark Iris brings her pistol up in a ready position, eyes scanning the area where they were warned the ambush would be. She waits for a sign of movement from an unfriendly, ready to shoot. She's briefly distracted by Shiloh, but only has time to aim a reassuring smile in her direction before she keeps a look out for trouble.
Matt Matt grabs ahold of the reins tightly and pull them high, and to the left to give most of the wagon good vision on the approaching swarms of Mutants. An easy avenue for the few other caravan guards to shoot from as well. Right behind him, the second wagon comes in and wheels to the right also allowing shots to line up down the trail. "We've got the distance! Keep up volleys so they can't rush us!" Then Matt stands, plants a boot onto the bench and aims downrange with his rifle.
Matt The Supermutant in the canyon looks confused up at the flare, but the rumbling of the wagons makes him raise his ungainly revolver, with an extra long barrel attached to it. Down range at the poor caravaneers! A shot slams into Iris' right arm but bypasses Rolande entirely!
Matt The supermutants up top turn as they feel the rocks and earth beneath their feet rattle and roll. Something middle-eastern and strange is behind them, and they charge them instead! Dropping their bag of goodies and wielding large poles with hydrants on them, they try to pummel the man down into the ground!
Shiloh      Shiloh breathes in an uneven breath and tries to hold it in while she lifts up her BB-Gun. She attempts to aim it at one of the mutants crawling through the canyon. With her rifle steadied, she tries to keep the crosshairs on the centaurs as they creep closer. Her lips curl in fear and disgust and she's barely able to look at them, much less aim properly as she intended. She whimpers out and squeezes her eyes shut tight as her finger curls around the trigger, her aim drifting off to miss the centaur she was trying to hit by several inches at least.
Rolande And so, the battle was officially underway; Rolande was engrossed in what was transpiring, glancing briefly in worry as it seemed that Iris had been struck- only to instinctively jerk his head back as the supermutant's second shot screamed past his helmet before impacting the ground far behind him. With gritted teeth he'd searched high around the rocks for the exact source of the shot before spotting said supermutant with his pipe revolver-rifle, taking aim and steadying his breath before squeezing off a couple of rounds! Crack! Crack! One of them struck the mutant dead on in the arm before the other pinged off some rocks, causing the Ranger to curse under his breath.
Matt The Centaurs start to scrabble ungainly towards the wagons, clambering up and around boulders. They reel back and spew their poisonous goop across the field! Matt calls out "DOWN!" as his wagon gets sprayed, and most manage to avoid a lot of it, still getting hit by droplets. The other spews as well, but a mutant launches in front of it at the time and wails loudly before tentacles stream out and drag the poor thing into the other centaur's mouth!
Elsie It's been awhile. Surelda, code named Silver at this point, crackles up over the radio. "Status report for Scarlet Caravan, please. How much mileage have you made?" She's calm as a cucumber, this bitch.
Vuk Vuk braces him self from his position, a beastial howl of mechanical static ripping forth from the audio speakers in his armor, a snarl of gunfire suddenly starting up, rounds lancing out into the canyon and mutants, though it seems mostly focused on those who are injuring Iris, bodies blown over as tracer fire impacts into them. Any sense of self lost as he lets the Overlay of his armor begin to take over, preprogrammed friendlies being carefully avoided as he begins the Symphony of Destruction. "Saint Di Ode Protect my Beloved! Saint Sony Guide my Fury true!" He howls out from his position.
Iris Lark Iris cradles her arm, a pained look on her face as she raises the same arm to fire. She squeezes off two quick shots and is rewarded with sounds of pain as they both hit the centaur in the leg. Blood sprays from the wounds, splattering the other swarms of supermutants and causing injuries and slowing down the swarm trying to climb the wagon. Only two remain uninjured and Iris raises her arm to try to get off another shot, but instead hisses with pain and tries to find cover.
Matt The mutants clamber up onto the boards of the wagon's sidewall! Matt spots it and reachs forward to drag Shiloh back a bit from the edge, but in doing so makes himself off-balanced and gets pulled bodily up and out of the driver's chair to slam onto the grind with a vicious mutant ready to slam a club into his face next round!
Matt The Supermutant in the canyon crouchs a bit as bullets spray into and around him, turning and aiming up towards Vuk and firing off two rounds to the damnable armor user!
Ashur The once-Legion crashes against the mutants whose long shadows drown the canyon. There's the report of gunshot, the gleaming ring of steel as swords are drawn and spears leveled; far to Ashur's right, a mutant charges a group of three Romans, impaling itself on the fierce bite of their spear-wall. The man nods a brief approval, wind whistling through his feather crest, and then turns as the quaking of the earth alerts him to enemies.

The first mutant goes wide when Ashur pivots on a steel-clad heel and pushes it aside, stumbling to its knees; the second smacks into him with a furious roar and the impact lifts the brute, hurling him a half dozen feet backwards but doing no meaningful damage.

"Pathetic," he drones, voice tinged metallic. "I am the greater mutant, and I only do it part-time." A roll of shoulder, and despite wearing what must be a hundred pounds or more of heavy iron, the bull charges and leaps, knees raised, crashing into the supermutant's chest with a sickening crash. He swings a wild haymaker into its face simultaneously and the thing topples backwards and falls with a great plume of dirt and dust, eyes dazed.

When Ashur finally stops beating its head in, his fist is bathed in red, and the mutant no longer has a face.
Shiloh      Shiloh lets out a startled scream and is barely able to leap off of the wagon to avoid the disgusting projectile that the centaur sends their way. She's still unable to avoid all of it, and she is desperately trying to swipe it off of her arm and armor, "Ew-ew-ew-ew..." She repeatedly murmers under her breath while she ducks behind the wagon for more proper cover. She hugs onto her rifle tightly, keeping her eyes shut tightly like she might just be able to wish herself away from this terrifying moment. "Okay, have to be brave. Pull it together. They're just...squishy, monstrous bags of can take them. You gotta hit one of its eyes, any of 'em..."

     She sits up on the wagon and tries to crawl over to the radio to talk into it, "Gonna have to get back to you.." In the brief time she speaks into the receiver, the frantic tones of her voice and the cacephony of the surrounding battle can be briefly heard until she's set it down. Even if she wanted to talk for longer, that grabbing mutant hand looming closer to her doesn't go unnoticed by her. Shiloh is drug backwards by Matt but she yelps out when Matt is grabbed next, "Matt!" She lifts her gun and tries to aim at the mutant's head while it's focused on Matt, trying to fire off a shot at it to try to make it let the man go. She fires wide though and yelps, apologizing quickly, "S-sorry Matt! Don't worry, we're gonna get you down!"
Elsie "Scarlet Caravan, this is Silver, repeat your position, dears." Mmm, Surelda is really taking to that smooth and sultry voice thing that comes with being a radio personality. Not that she has much personality now; she just plays Jazz and asks people for updates. Generally she'll wait a few minutes between questions, but this time the radio crackles suddenly, harshly, with a yell.

"Ambush! Ambush! Papi, watch out!" The shout, of course, is meant for Ashur, but it'll only reach the ears of those in proximity to the radio in Shiloh and Matt's caravan. Papi, of course, is how she refers to Ashur.
Rolande With Matt's scream, Rolande held fast against the side of the caravan as the centaur's acidic spew washed over them- droplets hitting against his duster with a sizzle, forcing the Ranger to wince as it ate through into his skin yet only mildly. However, it was only a temporary distraction as Vuk seemed to rain a hailstorm of bullets down into the throng of muties that were charging them, eating up the bodies and spitting out blood and gore in the wake of a triumphant attack. All of this served to distract him away from his duel with the supermutant he'd shot hiding among the rocks, until he came back around the wagon only to find that Matt had pushed aside Shiloh before being thrown to the ground- with one of the surviving muties about to give him a crash course in percussive maintenance to the skull.

Naturally, letting his paycheck get brained long before the journey's end was something he strived to avoid, once more bringing his service rifle to bear on the Ranger's new target- taking only moments to secure a line of sight and quickly fire off a pair of rounds that blow clean through the mutie's torso to give Matt a lovely paintjob in crimson with the added benefit of keeping his life. As the mutie slumps over, the Ranger shimmies from behind cover long enough to throw his hand down to the young man to help hoist him up on his feet. "Don't slack off on us now!" He'd crackled through the gas mask that helped comprised the repurposed riot helmet before slamming himself back up against the wagon to avoid making himself too much of a target.
Matt     Matt might've seen his life flash before his eyes as he gets chokeslammed onto the ground by a regular ol mutant. It turns out its just muzzleflashs from Rolande. He clambers to his feet and gets pulled bodily up onto the wagon and settles back into a spot. The radio statics and releases a cacophony from Surelda! Something about an ambush? It might've been hard for Matt to figure out. IF he wasn't facing the other side of the wagon and can see the damn black supermutant grasping the sidewall and trying to flip it over.
    A quick snapshot goes wide, but he steadies himself and release heavy metal thunder upon the beastie. Shoulder gets clipped, then two rounds slam straight into the assassin's face staggering him back and releasing his grip on the wagon itself.
    Around the canyon, more supermutants have arrive. The other wagon is starting to get tipped over by a black-skinned assassin as well. Ashur has one settled behind him and ready to get at'em now.
Vuk Vuk is registering minimal impacts to his armor, mostly, it is of no concern for the time being, but the new mutant threat? He begins to stitch fire across them in a hurried patter before splitting fire against those firing at him. Even if the damage is minimal, it will force them to seek cover for their own safety.
Iris Lark Iris gets off another shot, and plasma streaks towards the mutant trying to pull over the wagon. One streak hits the right arm and the second strikes it right between the legs. Unfortunate. Splattered with acid and her own blood she tries to find cover, but there isn't any to find. So she keeps shooting and moving, trying to stay out of harms way.
Ashur A red wind howls -- see the dark clouds filled with blood-spray and sand conjured on the canyon's top, made by grit and fluid a viscera sludge; see the mutants and the men drink deeply of it and laugh.

A Whitecloak soldier is tumbled to the ground, arm smashed, as a mutant advances on him; he fires his pistol one-handed again, and again, and again, until there's a click and nothing else comes out. The beast bears down on him all the same and pounds its own chest like an ape, screaming out curses and threats.

Elsewhere, another mutant is raging and crawling toward a circle of soldiers, both its feet lopped off at the ankle and the stumps spurting ichor.

Ashur, meanwhile, dances with his second companion. Driven mad by the sight of its dead companion, it snatches one of Ashur's own peers and swings the man as a club, the whiplash enough to snap his spine; the Legionnaire is struck center-on and painted red as the head pops like a balloon and blood drains from the helmet over his chest. It winds up for a second strike and comes in, the mangled corpse-whip flailing.

This time, Ashur steps into the blow, arresting its momentum, and drives his fist straight into the eye socket of the supermutant. Its cry of pain echoes down into the canyon and he pulls back, lifting Ashur from the ground -- he grabs the optic nerves and pushes in further, to the wrist, with a wet squelch, and then the pressure piston of his power fist is then triggered it cleaves the mutant's skull off from the eyes up.

The brain slips and slides and sings as it tumbles down toward the wagons.. and with a chuffed sound of discontent, Ashur flings the mutant's corpse entirely that way, too. It'll land right in front of the others.
Shiloh      Shiloh raises up her arms and rifle in vain to try to protect herself as she runs out of the reach of the revolting splashes. She stumbles and falls over, her legs weak from her injuries as she tumbles down onto the hard rust-stained canyon ground. She rolls over onto her back to try to look over the battlefield at a loss, tracking her companions as best as she can in her stunned state. She struggles to get back onto her feet and weakly lurches out to try to find some more cover. She helps to brace herself against the wagon, helping the others stop the new attacker from flipping the wagon over. Once the wagon is back on all of its wheels, she tries to fire off a BB at the assassin nearby to fend him off, despite how it misses again.
Elsie "Hello?" Surelda's voice, no longer so sultry as it is concerned, crackles over the radio. "Scarlet Caravan, status report. Over. Papi, are you there? Are you alright? Mr. Ward?" Silver continues to try and get in touch with the caravan, though no other information about incoming ambushes is spoken of. For now.
Matt     So much blood and gore has the last centaur, hurt as it is, snuffling about the ground and tentacle-pulling various mutants and the other centaur in pieces into his mouth. Its wounds seem to start sealing and closing up as it eats.
Rolande Again with the acidic spew! With the barrage, Rolande takes another splatter rolling off the wagon, coating his leg in a similar burning display that causes him to cry out in pain, which nearly causes him to stumble among the sudden appearance of assassins! Thanks to Natt's gun-fu, one of them is promptly planted only to have another accost the wagon and his colleagues as it strains to flip them over- with no luck it seems thanks to the group of them bracing against the charge. In the interim, the Ranger had let go of his rifle as it drops in a hang off of his upper body thanks to the shoulder strap before reaching in the spur of a moment to pull free a .44 revolver from within the confines of his duster, letting loose with a loud BLAM! that forces the large bore to whistle untrue, impacting into the dirt next to the assassin at the same time as a supermutant from atop the canyon careens to the ground before exploding in viscera, enough it seems to have distracted Rolande's aim before he retreats over the side and tumbles to the ground, limping up against the wagon next to Shiloh while panting heavily. "Damn it.."
Matt     The upstart night-skinned ruffian is trying to upend Matt's wagon! He *JUST* got the damned thing, and he isn't gonna let anything flip it yet. With Shiloh pushing from one side and Rolande plus Matt moving to hold it down, the wagon teeters and starts to come back down. At the apex of the lift, he steps to the wagon's sidewall and aims down at the distracted supermutant and unleashs a bullet all of eight inches from the monster's noggin effectively mushing it into mist.
    The assassin staggers once, twice then falters backwards without a head before landing flat on its back, still atwitch.
Vuk Vuk has to deal with the heavy blows slamming into him, clanging off his armor, and when he tries to bring his minigun into play, there is a stoppage, and he has to bring it to one side to try and slam loose a spent round, definitely -not- his day!
Matt The assassin on the canyon floor roughs up Vuk something fierce, scrapping its scrap metal claws up and around its armor and shredding it a bit. It gets through in a few places, but only Vuk knows that since blood isn't spilling anywhere yet.
    Up top, Ashur has it even worse as the Ninja Mutant Turtle does a particularly good standing up thing.
Ashur Two supermutants lie dead by the titan's hand, and the battle fares well for the faceless grunts of New Rome. There are casualties, of course, that is unavoidable -- but the martial spirit of the Legion is strong, even among its defectors! Blood and steel sing in concert as the mutants are cut down; gunshot to distract, quick runners severing tendons in heels to bring the brutes to their knees, and then grouped thrusts through the heart and face to terminate.

They might lack Ashur's godly brute strength, but they operate in perfect coordination, with the practiced ease of lifelong training (indeed, many of them were in the Legion together).

But when the assassins come, bearing down with claws and swift blows, they risk turning the battle's tide -- one leaps, spit flying from its mouth, and comes toward him.

Ashur punches its kneecap and teaches it to bend its leg in the opposite direction.
Matt The Centaur gets pegged by something and stops what its doing. His head perks up, higher and higher extend-o-necking like a monstrous chimera. Then it peers around like a praire dog and doesn't see what shot him. What he does see is some NPCs doing NPC things like shooting random mutants and SPEWS them with ugly gross nickeloden gunk.
Rolande With most of the battle in the Canyon handled, Rolande's attention is drawn further up along the cliffline where only now is he aware of the cacophony taking place above the caravan- the duel between Ashur, and the Nightkin, or rather, he'd made witness to the latter rising up with tenacity in the face of such an opponent. For the moment, the Ranger is stopped in his tracks. He is hard pressed not to think back, even in the middle of the conflct, to remember his times in the Mojave Wasteland as he is audience to the spectacle of New Rome's Legion.

But now is not the time for idle hands. Rolande comes alive and around from the wagon, levying his .44 up at the canyon cliffs as he takes aim, squinting behind the tinted crimson of his lens before exhaling coolly- and squeezing the trigger of his .44! BLAM! With expert precision, it sings true through the air, grinding into the side of the Nightkin's head with deadly precision that chews away parts of its ear and cheekflesh- not enough to kill it, but it certainly was not something to forget as it no doubt stopped in its tracks to howl in pain.
Elsie The radio crackles once more. "Mister Ward? Mister Ward! Is everyone alright? Did you see the ambush? Are there more mutants?" Every Caravan in the region, as well as several raiders who likely listen in on the channel, are hearing a panicked Silver, desperate for information.
Vuk Vuk has cleared the jam and taken a back step to let a snarl of gunfire back out, driving the mutant near him back enough to sweep the minigun against the centaur threatening Iris and the others. He Is aware of his HUD warning him about munition expenditure, but he has little choice in the matter, it is a needed evil at the moment...though his HK is so close..
Shiloh      Shiloh curls up tightly from her hiding position, knowing full well that her efforts have been doing absolutely nothing in this fight, scrunches her eyes shut tightly and breathes in a deep breath. She blinks over at the radio and grits her teeth before she makes a grab for the receiver again. "YES, yes there are more mutants! There have been mutants this entire time! People are getting hurt left and right and when they're gone, you'll be one of the -first- to know. I promise. S-so far...not seeing anyone unconcious, but Matt's probably aching, I'm aching...can't keep track of anyone else..."
Matt     This warzone is winding down now, the second wagon finishs off the swarm of human-sized mutants. The legion members atop of the cliff begin to rejoice their victories, shoving off dead mutants onto the pass below following after Ashur who dumped the Assassin in the final moments of their fight. Vuk's assassin is still attempting to peel him apart like a can of catfood, but a single shot from Shiloh over the back of the wagon zips through its ear and turns him around to stare at her a moment, like 'Where'd that come from?'. The wagons sizzle a bit where the acid had gotten to them, but are relatively unharmed otherwise.
    The Battle of Box Canyon finishes! A smell of ozone and gunsmoke wafts through the air, along with the stench of unbathed mutants and putrid Centaur gunk. Caravan guards dismount and start to ensure the mutants on the ground are really dead, with clubs and extra shots of bullets. Matt stands up from the front of his wagon and surveys the battlefield. "Call out if you're wounded, or near someone who is wounded." Thats the best course of action now. Everyone seems remarkable unharmed, with all their appendages accounted for.
Ashur At some point, Ashur has descended from the cliff-top battle and made his way down toward the wagons. He's aware of Lone Star, and who is on the other side of that radio, so when he forces himself into the back of it and speaks to Surelda, he damn well expects her to hear.

"Battle's over, sweetheart," he rumbles, and while she's never heard him speak through the metallic filters of his power armor helmet, the voice is recognizable enough. "They have all been slaughtered."

Then he saunters out.
Vuk Vuk will strap the Minigun back to his harley and mount up after dispatching any remaining mutants near him with his sidearm, or simply slamming an armored boot repeatedly into their craniums. His armor has blood and gore splattered on it. "This is Vuk Aleksy to any one with radios in contact with the caravan. Site secured. Preparing to pursue survivor hostiles." He says, voice a mechanical wash as he roars back towards the caravan proper, HK CAWs locked and loaded in case of further problems. Damn Muties. Remember how the -last- time he ended up fighting a Mutie, he burned out his own optical nerves and almost cooked his brain..
Shiloh      Shiloh lets the back of her head hit where she lays in the wagon, breathing in short pained breaths. She finally speaks into the radio again and relays, "They're...they're gone. Either retreated or dead...we're okay. Accounting for wounded now..." She looks up at Ashur, blinking up at him in surprise as she tries to focus on him. She easily relinquishes control of the receiver over to him but just stares up at him for now. When she finds her words, she smiles weakly and tries to murmer, "Glad that you were around. Th...thank you for helping us." She doesn't speak when Matt calls out for the wounded and just struggles to try to climb out of the wagon again to try to walk off her acidic burns with a stiff gait. She looks around, taking note of Matt's position before she sets off to find Rolande and Iris for starters.
Matt     A bit of time, Matt waits for any calls out. He'll plop down onto the bench after Shiloh talks into the radio, and he'll lift up the handset to talk as well. "Opposition eliminated. Wounded, no fatalies. Be in New Rome in..." He starts counting bodies that need to be moved. "4 hours....Make sure a party is ready, eh?" Then he'll hop down after replies to go looking for people as well.
    "Clear the road, lets get this caravan to New Rome."
Elsie The radio crackles. "Papi?" Silver asks, the sigh of relief audiable across the waves, across the wastes. "It's over? Oh thank-" but at that point, the sultry voice of Radio Lonestar leans back, and cannot be heard.

In celebration, she plays the old folk song, "Streets of Laredo." Just for Matt, no dobut. Who else would like this shit?
Rolande With the battle over, it's time for a breather; The Ranger slumps back against the side of the wagon, giving himself a looking over to note that he'd miraculously come out nearly unscathed- only a few singes from the centaurs' acid that will certainly heal away quickly with time. When he hears Matt calling from up over the caravan, he answers in a hoarse tone. "Rolande here; I'm alright."

He takes a moment to flick open the chamber on his .44, counting the shots before reaching to the ammo belt clipped around the dusty rodeo jeans that he wore to complement the ensemble, pulling loose a few more bullets and pushing them in. A flick of the wrist is made to resecure the chamber before the magnum revovler is tucked away, and he does the same by slipping a new clip into his service rifle. All said and done, they got off lucky... or maybe there was some thanks to be given to New Rome's Legion, but he certainly wasn't going to wag his tongue. By the time he's finished, he looks up to note Shiloh and Matt searching about, and he flags them down quietly with a wave of a gloved hand.