Local Dive

Name: Supply search
Description: You are running low on supplies and you need to get more if from elsewhere as the village has too few resources to give any away. Go and search for supplies.
Gains: 100 Coin, Piece of armor of your choice (Poor quality armor)
Requirements: none

Bringing the brim of the dirty glass to his dried, awaiting-lips; Vicious closed his eyes and tilted his chin upward slightly. The cool elixir ran down the inside of the glass and punched his taste buds upon entering his mouth. With a sharp exhale and a slight quivering of his throat, the punk swallowed the alcohol and bit at his bottom lip as he set the glass down on the counter top. Lowering his head slightly, Vicious slouched on the bar stool and fell into a slight trance as memories lofted through his dark mind and his eyelids fluttered softly over his gaze.

This was Newport's local hole in the wall; the dive bar. And, in recent days it had become the favorite spot for Vicious, who had recently made his way back to the town after a stint up north in the desert. Having been gone, the Townsman thought perhaps he would find more people on his return to Newport and make some new acquaintances. However, day after day the town remained rather vacant and abandoned. With the exception of a few other folks he had seen roaming the streets and entering through the town's Front Gate, there were not many around at all. Vicious began to wonder if a trip in search of another town might be in order. Perhaps then he could at least find some more company and more importantly some job leads.

With his substance addiction and his interest in building explosive devices, the punk was in dire need of some coin and materials. The only way to achieve such ambitions would be to take on a job helping or hurting someone and at this point, Vicious was up for either. A gut-tearing burp brought the vandal out of his alcohol-induced coma and he blinked several times as he turned his head to look around the bar. Aside from himself, there was only the bartender in the room and she was a cute, but used-up gal with some apparent scars; both physically and emotionally. It would seem she had taken a shine to Vicious; who had been the freshest face she'd seen in months, and though she made passes at him from time to time, the young pyromaniac kept to himself in her presence; trying to focus on his drink, and his dilemma.

Her name was Jen.

"One more for the road?" she asked as Vicious rose from the bar stool and turned his eyes toward the door.

Only giving a slight shake of his head, the punk moved across the room and pushed against the splintered-wood, opening the door and stepping out into the sunlight. The sky was a dusty red color and the air was a little tough to breathe, however Vicious had made up his mind; it was time to find a means for materials or coin. If it meant searching them out himself, so be it.

Vicious headed east down a long alley way as he left the bar behind him, his feet falling in line as he placed one foot in front of the other. The dust rose gently with each step that impacted against the dusty, dry soil and small plumes of dust encased his ankles as he continued his slow but steady stride. His eyes were pinned on the ground, his brow flinching slightly at the sight of each small dust cloud that emitted into the air. He knew he had to find some sort of scrap metal or some coin in order to further pursue his goal of designing new explosive devices and continuing his favorite past-time; blowing stuff up.

As he reached the far east end of the narrow alley way, the passage became rather impassable, covered by strange wooden debris and other miscellaneous trash. With a heavy sigh, the punk leaned his back against a wooden door and prepared for a moment of rest. His desire however, was cut-short as he wooden door behind him gave out and sent him tumbling backward, heels over head down a small flight of stairs. As he came rolling to a stop, Vicious put a hand on his neck and cracked it violently as he grunted in displeasure. Looking around he could hardly make out his surroundings, which had now been covered in a thin layer of dust cloud due to his rude entrance. After a few moments, the cloud dispersed and Vicious' eyes began to adjust to the dimly lit room he had fallen into. As he slowly rose to his feet, he turned his head and his eyes suddenly caught sight of a strange looking piece of material. Moving quickly to snatch it up, Vicious turned the garment over in his hands and discovered it was a vest of some sort. Further observation revealed the letters S.W.A.T. displayed across the back of the vest. Unsure of what this could mean, Vicious put the vest on, using the Velcro straps to ensure the proper fit. Patting the vest, his right hand touched against something hard beneath the surface of the material and he dug in the front pocket of the vest, his fingers digging fiendishly. In no time, the punk found what he was after, pulling a handful of coin out of the pocket and looking down at it in his open palm.

100 coin! he though as his eyes widened.

Vicious quickly pocketed the coin and left the room, stacking broken boards and other trash in front of the doorway in case he wanted to return to the room later. It would seem that his journey in search of new materials and coin was not as hard as he initially imagined, and for Vicious; he liked it that way.

how long do we wait to bump?

Didn't realise this hadn't been approved. Well I'll say APPROVED!