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Chapter 2
Clinks and pings from the cooling engine sounded loud in the otherwise silent night. A hazy rose red of dawn lined the distant horizon, broken up like a torn cloth by the silhouetted shadows of distant mountains and closer hills. The ambient soundlessness was broken occasionally by the faintest of booms from far off gunfire just at the edge of hearing.
"Owe! Youch!"
"Shh, you're squealing like a cub"
Firebrand sat hunched out the door of the truck, flinching as Terrah dabbed clinical alcohol on his wounds.
"If you stop moving about so much, I'll have this done sooner."
"He really cut me up-" he whimpered, wincing as some intruding fur was pulsed from a deep gash.
"Hold still"
Terrah held Firebrand's arm firmly as she wrapped a bandage around it, trying to judge the best place in the shap shadows and poor light cast by the truck cabs interior light.
Firebrand flexed his arm, rolling it around at the shoulder and keening at the pain.
"So where are we exactly?" He asked.
Terrah clicked the clasps on the med-kit and slid it back into its holder under her seat.
"GPS says we are about 74 clicks south of where the convoy got hit. We are 62 clicks south-south-east of where we got separated from the surviving half of the convoy."
Firebrand took a look around the flat, featureless plains. They were gleamed in places where the moonlight his rocks. The tire marks of their truck trailed off into the distance, the last road having been left and forgotten some hours ago.
"So we are in the middle of nowhere?"
"It really does look like that" Terrah said uncertainly, moving a large finger pad over the GPS touch screen, searching for anything of interest.
"Then let's head back to the convoy. They'd have beaten off those bandits by now and hooked up with the other half that got away"
"I don't think we can." She said, even more uncertainly than before.
"Why? What's happened?" Firebrand demanded, turning round.
Terrah lowered her ears as she looked into Firebrand's concerned face.
"They hit our axillary fuel tank. And we burned a lot of it in the battle. We probably only have about 50-60 km rage left in the tank, maybe less."
A light breeze blew, rustling the sparse vegetation, scattering dust into the warm air. They sat in silent contemplation for some time, Terrah packed up the medical supplies.
"I'll get on the radio and give a call out. They have gotta be looking for us" Firebrand exclaimed suddenly scrabbling to his feet.
"And I'll check the maps, there has got to be some kind of settlement of some kind nearby. We can trade some supplies for fuel."
"And some food" shouted Firebrand from the radio cabinet.

They frantically worked as dawn drew in over the wastes. Their minds were drunk on fear and sleep deprivation. The maps they had on board were outdated, it was hard to keep up to date out here when the nearest stable TechNet connection could be weeks away. And you could never be totally sure everything was updated correctly with so much duplicate, corrupt or downright wrong data left in the tattered and patchy remains of the global telecommunications network of the old world.
Firebrand soon picked up a faint signal as he scanned the radio spectrum. It sounded like-
"Advertising?"
"What was that?" Terrah called from under the vehicle. She was making temporary repairs to the fuel tanks with metal scraps, rivets and silicone sealing gel.
"Something about Miss Durst's Dust Repellent." Firebrand paused momentarily to examine his permanently dusty fur, clothes, mane and all-round dustiness of someone that lived their life on the road. He felt oddly self-conscious while the jaunty little jingle crackled over the radio headset. It stopped, he snapped out of it.
"There is a town nearby. Give me a moment; I'm going to find out where."
Terrah's ears perked up; there was some hope of salvation it seemed. She let Firebrand get on with whatever he was doing and went back to patching up their somewhat battered truck. It might be some time before they found a proper repair shop. The town might have one but it wasn't good to assume. Assumption had lead her into trouble before.

Firebrand busied himself finding a couple of old tins and a few other odds and ends. In no more than twenty minutes he had assembled a serviceable directional antenna. He scrabbled onto the roof to scan for the direction of the radio signal; the scrabbled down and back up again to get the radio headset he had forgotten. He had already scanned and locked the receiver unit on the frequency the signal was broadcasting the strongest, now it was just a matter of carefully and slowly rotating the tube like antenna to find the direction where the signal was being received the strongest.
"Hey Brandy. Want something to eat?"
"Umm, yeah sure!" Firebrand shouted down. He rubbed his eyes, he needed sleep but there probably wouldn't be any rest today. Food should make things better, even if it was just canned rubbish. His mind wondered at this thought. He had not had fresh meat for two weeks now. Game was scares in the hot season. His inner predator snarled in frustration.
He was brought out of his introspection when ears picked up the crackly sound of the radio broadcast again. Minute movements and constant checks at his multi-meter helped him track the signal by millimetres.
"Got it!" he announced, throwing his arms up almost knocking the tin out the hand of Terrah who was trying to hand him some breakfast.
"You found us a bearing then?" asked Terrah as she handed up the tin of warmed gristly, unidentifiable minced meat.
"Yes! This way." He said dramatically, standing and pointing in a direction out to the left and just rearwards of the truck.
"That's great… Got any numbers for me though?"
"Oh yeah umm, could you pass me the GPS please?"
Bearings were set, bad meat was chewed and expectorated; Firebrand talked excitedly, almost choking. With hope and full bellies they set off in the direction of supplies and a comfortable bed.
* * * *
Early dawn light climbed up the body slumped up against the overturned buggy, its nose semi-buried in the dusty, ground. The light showed a dried line of dark red running down the reptilian face from somewhere up in chaotic cluster of hair-like feathers on the figures head. An eyelid twitched, breaking the crust. Yellow, slitted eyes shot open before squeezing shut again as the low sun burned into them.
Borken moaned and grasped his head as he shifted, trying to stand up. He staggered and grabbed something to steady himself. This turned out to be a wheel, that rotated under his weight and causing him to lose his balance and crash down again. He staggered back upright again, swearing and grabbing something firmer.
Thirsty, he was so thirsty. And his head ached.
It reminded him of the after effect of one of the many parties and chaotic nights he spent as a student up at the Carthage Central Record Library. They felt good that the time and of course he was in control of his drink. He was still able to remember to be sparing with his drink so that must mean he could still have a few more before he stopped.

Borken waited for the world to stop spinning before taking a good look around him. The place was arid, flat and almost featureless. What had happened last night?
He spotted a water can, half buried in disturbed ground. Other items lay scattered too, possibly relating to the upside-down nature of the buggy.

A short time later he was nestled in a make-shift tent built out of a bit of canvas tied at the corners to the vehicles underside and propped up by a couple of uprights consisting of very dry and wavy sticks found a little way away in a kind of dried river bed. He drank heavily from the water can and munched through some bread he had found. He was hoping he would be able to find a painkiller for the headache in the first aid kit when he finally made the effort to right the buggy.
Scattered recall pieced together the events of the previous night. He had driven fast and far, not sure where he was going but far away from wherever he was. The lifeless stare of his bodyguard still burned in his mind as was the abject fear and horror as bullets pinged off of the bodywork. He thought there was some kind of... something off to the left of him a few hours after he had left the scene of the fight. There was a glint of metal, he panicked, swerved and flipped the vehicle. Must have knocked himself out too.

He thought about his situation more. He was in the middle of a dry desert, no idea where he was and no telling when he might be able to eat or drink again.
He stopped munching quite so enthusiastically and put the lid back on the water can.
Ok, there were two options here, trace his path back to the ambush point and find more supplies and then make his own way to Carthage, or find the tracks the convoy had made in its journey and follow them back to Hecklers Reach, where he had come from before departing on this retched journey. Would the attackers have left the attack site by now? Were they coming after him? He shook the thought from his head, a movement made painful by the headache still lurking back there. Both options meant going back on himself. But first he would need to right this damned buggy.

He put the meagre breakfast and tent aside and proceeded to try and push and heave the vehicle over. It had wedged in the soft ground in one corner but a salvaged stout branch and a rock gave him enough leverage to tip it over once more. There was thankfully a first aid kit in the cockpit and with a lot of grunting, packing of objects and debris that he kept spotting just as he was climbing back into the seat he set off back the way he had presumably come, tracing the rutted ground.
The sun beat down on Borken as he sped along. He was noticing things now that the sheer abject terror he had overwhelmed him the night before had settled into a deep, underlying dread that couched at the bottom of his soul like a caged animal. The things he noticed was that the engine, positioned just behind his head was extremely loud and monotonous. It also sent continuous, numbing vibrations though everything in the vehicle. He couldn't feel his hands after the first hour or so. Dust was another big thing. Dust was thrown up by the wheels and seemed to concentrate itself on the cockpit. At least there was a roof though to shade him from the unrelenting sun.
He was now getting a fairly good idea why most gnolls went around with tough gloves and goggles. A life traveling the wastelands as desert nomads was romantic in an ungrounded, whimsical kind of way but there were definitely could see that the details of such an arrangement made for a more uncomfortable picture.

He noticed the rise of the cliffs up ahead through the veil of dust and dirt that had become his vision. Not feeling keen to view the remains of battle, or risk being caught up in it again he made a detour to align himself to intersect where the convoy must have come. It might be a trick of the dust but he thought he saw quite a few birds circling the cliffs. He shuddered.
He could hear something off in the distance as he turned to head back down the path left by tens of vehicles traveling together. It was getting louder.
He looked off to the left, there was something coming towards him. Before he could even panic there was a crack and one of his back wheels started to deflate. There was another crack and a front wheel started going down too. He was losing speed, and turning round. He couldn't stop it, there was nothing in his power to do. The thing coming closer turned out to be a rather professionally assembled car. It had stopped and he was curving straight towards it. As inevitably as the rising of the sun, the buggy slowed and curved and eventually stopped in front of the car.
A demure looking man stepped out. He was armed, a big, black, efficient looking hand gun. Borken struggled for his one but fumbled and dropped it out of the buggy. The man simply picked it up and tossed it about 100 yards away from him with no apparent effort.
"Look, please, I am a scientist. There is nothing of value on me."
The man remained impassive and calm. Infuriatingly so. He reached into the cockpit area and pulled out Borken's knapsack. He then turned around and walked away.
Indignation temporally overrode Borken's disquiet at this individual and he climbed out of his seat and walked towards the man.
"Hay! That's my stuff! I know its not much but-"
The cold, black tip of the gun was suddenly up against his muzzle. He didn't even see the man move, he was just staring down the barrel to a cold face. One that would only be considering the price of a bullet in the choice of weather to let the sauren live or die. Hours seemed to pass, a look going between the slittled yellow reptilian eyes and cold, blue pupils. Then, as quickly as he had put it there, the man took the gun away, leaving Borken to stand, frozen as he climbed into the car with the bag and drove off.

It wasn't until the car was nothing but a dust cloud in the distance hid Borken finally realise he wasn't breathing. He gave a massive sigh and leaned up against the side of the vehicle, panting and witing for his heart to calm down to a point where he could make out individual beats.
"What the hell was that!" he yelled into the horizon. "What did you want?"
That was a question, what did the man want with his stuff? All that was in there were some personal hygene items, his radio phone, some papers, journals and research notes and-
"Oh damn!" He added. In case the horizon gave one.
There was the device too. The thing he found on his last dive. With all the life-or-death worries of the recent past he had totally forgotten about it. But why did he want it? Even he didn't quite know what it was. Was this whole ordeal just about getting hold of it?

He looked back at the buggy. Shreds of tire on the front wheel had wrapped around the axle and suspension. It was pretty done in. He then took a look back up at the ominous cliffs. Yes those were birds circling up above. Vultures by the looks of it. A few broke off to investigate him.
Well, assuming the bandits hadn't burned and looked everything he was bound to find some new tires in among the destruction.
He made a rough cloak out of the tent material, packed some food and water into a make-shift sack and started plodding off towards possible salvation from death by the dead.
* * * *
Mr Brown was a complex and refined man, at least Mr Brown thought he was and doesn't the opinion of a complex and refined man like Mr Brown carry some weight? He didn't smoke and drank only moderately and only of fine brandy. He would not normally associate with such ruffians as Randal King but the pay was respectable and he strongly suspected that it was not Randal King who was really pulling the strings of this operation. Oh the man could organise and had a way of making bitter sworn enemies fight alongside each other, at least until the job was done. The man lacked any real aspiration though. He wanted to be, ah hah, King of the wastelands and was doing a good job at getting there, but so what if he won out? He would still only be a grubby, evil-minded bandit, perhaps only more so than the rest. Now Mr Brown, he was after the finer things in life; good food, fine brandy, sweet music and tasteful art. In short, the cultured nectar of the world. Even his car was refined, a restored and modified Mercer Phantom Swift. It had gracefully flared wheel arches, mahogany and leather upholstery, polished chromium detailing and instruments.

He looked at the bag next to him. A strange device lay on top. Semi-spherical, highly technical and with a number of cables trailing from the side of it, just below a display screen. He had absolutely no clue what it was but it gave off a faint sense of cold menace. Mr Brown was familiar with technology to the point that he used modern conveniences in his everyday life but he didn't take an active interest in the inner workings. That was for lesser people to worry about. He would simply pay for something to be repaired and something in his stocky mannerisms ensured that he always got the best deal. This object seemed to be raw technology solidified.

The car travelled east to meet up with where King and his bandits had made camp. He drove as far into the mass of vehicles and people as possible, finding a slightly sparse area to park up and get out. On opening the door his refined senses were assaulted with the stench of bad beer, unwashed bodies, cooking fires, engine oil and fuel. The sounds of singing, arguing, motors, and general noise filled him. He put the device into the bag, lifted it and headed towards the nearest thug that didn't seem gainfully employed.
"You there. Where can I find Mr King?"
"Wha- What's it to you?" The man stammered a bit, his breath rich with alcohol and bad dental care.
King grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed him face first into the bonnet of a nearby vehicle. He then stared back at the man's now bloody face.
"I really don't like to repeat myself. Where is the man known as Randal King?"
"He's uhh," the bandit stopped to spit a glob of blood to the floor. "He's over there. But you'll have to wait. He's a bit busy now"
Mr Brown threw the man down and set off in the direction he was pointed. There was a larger tangle of people apparently around King. A lot of arguing too.
"-and we got 4 of our cars wrecked. That's going to cost you! Taking on gnolls like that, we could have all been killed!"
"We made 34 confirmed kills, 9 over the usual rates so you know there are going to be some extra costs there-"
King was there, dealing with what looked like the biggest post-raid pay out conflict ever. Fourteen whole gangs had been employed for this assault. Fourteen of the nastiest, most viciouse and head-strong gangs of the Masiwalli Plains, half of whom held grudges with at least two of the other half. As this were wasteland bandits they did not just take the fee agreed upon at the time of their employment, no. Each of them wanted a share of the loot and recompense for any difficulties or losses encountered. Yes there had also been friendly fire, or grudging fire, which lead to claims for losses inflicted by other gangs.

Mr Brown simply ignored those around, some of whom objected to being pushed past until they saw who it was. Even when you are a hard-as-nails wasteland bandit you still extend a little courtesy to someone who wouldn't flinch to kill you if it was less effort than looking at you.

King was in a heated debate with another thug leader about some trivial small payment when he noticed the looming figure approach.
"Mr Brown. I assume you have it then?" He said, turning to face the man
"Of course." He placed the bag on the crude table King had been sat at. "Now, I'll be taking my fee and departing."
"Yeah, about that. I was thinking. I'd like to keep you on for a little bodyguard duty. "
"Against these runts?" questioned Mr Brown, taken aback at the apparent concern over those that King had shown such control before.
"No, no. It's my employers I have the concern about. They aren't quite right" King said in a reserved manner, walking Mr Brow away to a more secluded between a few vehicles to stop anyone overhearing.
"What isn't right about them that the ruthless Randal King can't handle?"
"I'd just be more safe knowing that someone of real worth was watching my back around these guys."
"Well I will need my payment from the last engagement first. Then we will discuss the terms of a new contract. "
"Yes, yes, ok."

* * * *
"That must be the town up ahead" said Terrah as she saw whiffs of dark smoke in the sky. A sure sign of forges and cooking fires.
Firebrand looked over the top of the dog-eared comic book he was reading. The town was not clearly visible, there were too many small hills and dunes in the way but there were definite signs of habitation up ahead.
The truck bounced heavily over a rise in the dirt road. A plume of dust was trailing behind it like a permanent cloud.
"Hey, take it easy!" Firebrand exclaimed. "It would be nice to arrive in one piece"
"Sorry Brandy" Terrah said. She sounded dejected.
"Anything wrong there?"
"It's been so long since I was in a town" muttered Terrah, a quiver of anxiety entering her voice.
"But we were just at that sauren place a few days ago." Firebrand said indignantly.
The female just shook her head, "I stayed out and did maintenance on some of the vehicles."
"Ok, what about the time before, a couple of week back?"
"Went out hunting."
"And before that, in the place where the apple harvest had just come in? We all got a bit of leave? Everyone went into town then, we even had some spending cash given out! Aahhhhh that was the best cider I have ever had! Come to think of it, that was the only cider I ever had. Hmm..." He sat back, remembering, and glanced at Terrah for her reaction.
She sighed, "No Brandy, no. I did not go out that time or the time before that or the time before that. The last time I went into a town of any sort was years ago. Before you came to this clan. It was horrible and- just- I don't like it, ok." A snarl finished off her words.
Firebrand was taken aback. He wasn't used to Terrah snapping at him like that, she always seems in control of things, confident. Maybe a little too serious than him but then he was more of a clown really. But they were both stressed. It had been a trying 12 hours, neither had had any sleep since the previous night and there were both silently terrified of what might happened to their clan.
"Look, we are going to both have to go inside this place. It'll be fine. "
"Sorry Brandy, I didn't mean to growl at you like that. I don't really know how to act in settlements. People have all kinds of weird standards and customs that I don't understand. "
"Don't worry, I'll handle it. Just think of the nice, soft comfortable beds, warm food and tasty beer!"

They rode the rest of the journey in near enough silence. Firebrand put the radio on when the walls of the settlement came into view, listening for any interesting radio traffic or for any call for them to communicate. There was nothing in either case.
The gate to the town was manned by an apparent corpse. That was, until he moved and stood in their path and raised is had to them. Terrah stopped just in front of him. He took a leisurely stroll around to the side of the vehicle and indicated for the side window to be opened.
She rolled it down and looked down at the man. His face was a parchment of cracks and crumples. Small watery eyes looked out from under an ill-fitting helmet.
"What do you want?" he muttered out of a mouth that had more than a few teeth.
He adjusted the helmet so that he could see up better as there was a good three feet height difference from the truck window.
"We, err. We..."
Firebrand climbed over Terrah and poked his head out of the window.
"Hi there. We just want to get some supplies. We'll only be here for a couple of days. "
The man just squinted and scratched the side of his turkey neck.
"Hey, are you some of them gnoll things? Haven't seen one of your kind round here for near on twenty years"
He seemed to think for a moment. "You guy ain't some scouts are ya?"
"What us? Nooooo. We're just travellers, got split off from our clan."
"Hmm, ok then. Go on in, but we'll be keeping an eye on you. Report to lieutenant Rotherham up at the armoury. "
"Roger that sir!" Firebrand carried off an extravagant salute and climbed back into his seat.
The old guard shuffled back to his post and arthitically raised the barrier to let them through. Terrah waited, then drove through slowly, watching the man as he spoke into a radio.
"Brandy, I don't think we will be welcome here. " Terrah murmured as she drove out onto the main road of the town. She looked around the place with nervous glances. It wasn't a remarkable place. A few foundries and forges raised their smoke stacks into the air from rusted steel sheds. The main road was lined with a few shop fronts, workshops and a couple of cafés. There was a market off down one side street. Terrah couldn't help but notice that the people, mostly rugged looking humans and a few sauren just stopped and stared at them for a good long while. A couple of mothers with children hurried them onwards or took them inside.
"Where exactly are we going?"
"Good point!" Brandy opened the window on his side and leant almost all his body out. He gave a little salute to some passers-by.
"Good morning to ya!"
They stared in apparent horror. Firebrand then took a wild sniff around, swinging his head this way and that. Then he seemed to find something and sniff strongly at it. He dropped back inside and sat heavily on his seat.
"Ok, we want to take a left at the next turning." He said smugly.
"I don't know how you can smell any one particular thing in this, this, this cacophony. I've been practically nose-blind since we approached this place."
"Trust me, you learn to pick things up after a bit."

There was a crude concrete and corrugated steel building set back from the road a bit. A number of vehicles, utilitarian vans and buggies only really good for carting men and material around the town and local area were parked up in front of the building. With only a few manoeuvres Terrah managed to park the truck backwards into a space. She had insisted on this in the event of them having to make a 'tactical retreat'.
"So we are going in here then?" She asked as Firebrand got up out his seat.
"Yep, but hold on a sec. " He ducked through the short door that lead into the cargo area.
"What are you doing back there?" She could hear a number of grunts and the rustle of fabric. There was a clatter and a swear word and shortly after Firebrand emerged. And he was wearing...
"What is that?" Terrah chortled.
"You can think of it as urban camouflage. " He said confidently, adjusting the Stetson hat on his head. Two rough holes were cut for his ears.
Terrah burst out laughing in bouts of cackles and hyena-like yipps. Firebrand was wearing a chequered flannel shirt, leather vest and rough blue jeans, rolled up at the cuffs and with a rip in the back for his stubby tail to poke through. A couple of buttons were left undone on the shirt to allow for the thick gnoll neck. All in all the look was... untidy to say the least.
"You may laugh but this is what folks wear in town. Makes people feel more comfortable around you if you dress like them. "
"I'll just stick with my shawl to break up the military overtones for now I think. " She said, still sniggered as she got up.
"Oh, I'll get you something sorted out later. "
She didn't like that sound of that.
Firebrand opened the door and stepped out into the street. People looked at him. He tipped his hat to the nearest woman.
"Good mornin' ma'am" he said in a voice of oral swagger.
There was a metallic crunch of rugged metal parts moving into position. People stopped looking at Firebrand, they were looking behind him instead. He turned around. Terrah looked back rather sheepishly. She had equipped herself with full field gear including a large calibre heavy assault rifle, SMG with extended magazine and gas compensator, two tomahawk hand guns, two ammunition bandoleers, a grenade belt, a combat knife, three utility knives and a machete.
"Umm, I am not sure that lot is entirely necessary. We are quite safe here. "
"But you have a gun"
Firebrand looked down at the modest holster on his belt.
"Yeah, but that is only to be expected really. " He grinned at her in a reassuring way.
She wasn't buying it.
"Ok, look. You can have a pistol and one more easily storable weapon. And one knife. "
"Can I take a grenade please? "
"No, not even a small one. We'll be fine"
Terrah looked dejected but relented and returned most of the gear bar a combat knife, pistol and SMG. The watchers had mostly drifted off, at quite a hurry for some.
"Now then. Let's got see that lieutenant guy. Ah, mornin' sir" Firebrand caught the arm of a passing man who spun to face him. He took on a hunted expression.
"Err, good err, good morning." he mumbled.
"Do ya know where the armoury is?"
"Umm, yeah. It's…" He seemed to think for a moment, "… it's up there, turn left, left again and it's behind the chain-link fence."
"Thanks a lot friend. Good day to ya." Firebrand let the man go and tipped his hat one more time on the basis that you can't be too polite. The man fled.
They walked along the road, according to the man's instructions. A huge variety of smells and odours filled Terrah's nose. Each more powerful and attention-grabbing than the last. Oil, burning wood, cooking, sweat, exhaust fumes, chemicals, raw meat, rats, sewage, dust. It was choking. She was nervous, but ok for now. It was daytime and everyone seemed sober and busy about their work. They were being watched though. She felt vulnerable, exposed. She gripped the SMG's barrel, ready to swing it out if needed. It was stupid. Nothing was going to happen to them but it was good to know she was ready if it was to happen. Firebrand was walking a little ahead, incessantly greeting people as he went by and listing the itinerary of many of his earlier urban excursions without apparent interest if anyone was listening or not.
Within a few minutes they were face to face with an intimidatingly tall and barbed fence. There were two armed men standing outside. Neither looks as though they had a sense of humour. Still, Firebrand tried his upbeat chirpiness on them to try and make them feel at ease despite all the previous tries along the street.
"Mornin' there sir. We just need to get in to see-"
"Oh, we were told about you. Get on inside. "
"Oh sure thing" Firebrand walked forwards when a palm shot out and barred his way.
"You gotta leave your weapons here at the gate though."
Terrah balked at this, her ears flattened and she looked worriedly at Firebrand. He shifted uneasily at her intense gaze.
"Hey, can't we just bring in a small one?"
"Nope" the guard said stiffly. "Rules is rules. You leave 'em with me, we give you a quick frisking and you can go in. "
Firebrand looked back at Terrah. "Well, I guess we ain't got a choice here. It'll only be for a short while."
He took out his pistol, removed the magazine, cocked it to release the chambered round and placed it on the desk. He then stood to one side and spread out as the man patted down his body. The guard nodded and let him though.
"W-What was that about? The touching?"
"Oh, just looking for concealed weapons. It's a standard thing people do in weapon free zones. "
"Ok then." She sounded uneasy.
She placed her weapons down cautiously and stood tense while the man patter her down too. She growled as he touched the inside of her legs.
"Hey, easy girl. Nothing going on here. "
He finished and nodded for her to go on inside the gate to join Firebrand.
"Don't worry yourself too much, remember we are partially descended from alpha predators with jaws that can crush bone!" Said Firebrand in an attempt to mollify Terrah. She nodded at him.
"Let's head down now. " He motioned her towards the stairs leading down into a partially underground bunker. Thick, slanted concrete walls raised only a few feet off the ground before a curved and thickly plated steel roof covered the main entrance. They descended down a worn set of stairs. Metal tread plates were bolted into each stair as a nod to durability but they were mostly rusted and buckled in places. This bundles of cables ran up on the sides of the stairs, hung loosely on hooks on the girders that stood each side and eventually overhead the stairway as it descended. They moved 8 to 10 feet underground before the stairs terminated in a narrow room filled with gas masks and other emergency equipment. Firebrand noticed his friends breathing. It was coming in fast, short bursts. She was uncomfortable being underground in these confined environments. The air was different too, even here at this early point in the facility. It was stale, recycled.
The room split off into two separate paths. One lead down another stair way, another lead off down a long and narrow corridor. After a moments looking Firebrand found a small sign. It pointed down the corridor for the command centre. The lower staircase signalled the barrack and mess hall. The command centre would be the logical choice here he thought and headed off in that direction.

Terrah gulped nervously. She could feel sweat running into the fur on her face as the fear lurked within her. She didn't like this place, really didn't like this place. It felt suffocating, alien, remote. The air was all wrong too, and the light. She was good at seeing in daylight and her kind had good night vision too, very good. But this light was artificial, weird, drifting from bright whiteness with stark, sinister shadows under the lamps and shades of gloom with shades of ill-fitting darkness between them. The corridor seemed to go on forever. Each step leading her away from escape. An eerie rumbling from distant engines penetrated everything and she shuddered every time she picked up the subtle and insidious creeks and booms as the structure shifted to the movement of the earth, expanding as the heat of the sun warmed it.
Firebrand seemed to take it all in his stride. He was an urban animal, at home in artificial landscapes and always happy about exploring the next neon lit manifestation of man's desire to shape the world around him. She however was a creature of the wilderness. She liked nothing more than wide open spaces to run free in, or at least drive recklessly fast in. Maybe it was her avoidance of towns but places like this ran against her grain and she could not wait to be free of it.
Eventually they emerged into a much larger room. Its walls were lined with filing cabinets and aged computer equipment. There were only a few people in this room though. The old equipment was silent, the only sound came from soft talking, the hum of the electric lights and the deep, constant vibration of the hidden engines. A stern looking man turned to them. His stripes were clearly visible along with his displeasure on the rough, pockmarked and scared face. His chiselled features turn a hostile expression to the two entering gnolls.
"You know, we have had your kind around here before. Just over 23 years ago. We wouldn't have you here but ol' Jack seemed to think you were harmless, at least less harmless than the last lot. What brings you back here after all this time? "
"Err, what happened 23 years ago?" Firebrand asked uncertainly. The outburst had momentarily stunned him.
"You don't know? Guess I should have known. Didn't think your sort would remember all the places you destroy, all the people you kill."
"Hey! I ain't never destroyed any places in my life. And I ain't killed- no wait, I only killed people that were tryin' to kill me first! Besides, it happened way before we were born. I'm only 17 and Terrah here is, err, are you 16 or 17?" He looked at her. She was staring off as if into a distant horizon that only she could see.
"I remember." She said slowly, quietly.
"Yeah! Wait, what?" Firebrand whipped round to look at her.
"It was in stories, tales told to me when I was a cub about the Great Famine." She looked at Firebrand, somewhat shame faced.
"It's not something we're proud of which is why you never heard about it I suspect. There was once a famine that struck the land. It was sick. Everything that grew, what little of it could was thin, sickly and no good. The clan split up into smaller groups to try and survive. Some of those that went off we never saw again. The wasteland is littered with the anonymous bones of those claimed by the famine. Some went mad and cannibalised themselves. Others attacked settlements. This is probably one of those settlements hit. A lot were pretty much whipped out. Their food, livestock and inhabitants feasted upon. " She let out a long sigh.
"This settlement didn't appear on our maps. It was probably one of the ones badly hit by the raids. That is probably why they aren't too happy to see us."
Terrah looked at the Lieutenant. He didn't look pleased.
"It looks like your town recovered well sir." She said, trying to smile.
"Yeah, it's the iron in the area. Way too good an opportunity to be abandoned. " He grunted.
He shuffled some papers in front of him. Before looking back up to them.
"I can see this isn't like the last time. For one thing you're not frothing at the mouth. But what brings you here and are there any more to follow?"
"No, at least I don't think so. Our clan was attacked last night while passing through the Blind Gorge. We got separated from those that escaped. We just need some supplies and to rest and then we will be on our way."
Firebrand looked back at Terrah, surprised to hear her taking such a suddenly confident tone.
"The Blind Gorge?" Asked the Lieutenant, in tones of uncertainty. "That place is crawling with bandits."
"Yeah, we knew the risks. We were a fully armed and prepared clan. We were prepared for simple bandits. What hit us was some kind of landslide and an army. They must have known the exact rout we would have taken and prepared well ahead. "
"What were you doing?"
"One of our sister clans was in dire need of supplies as they fought an Elven incursion into the clan lands. " Terrah explained. Her posture shifted as she stood more upright, almost proudly. She went on, "The basis of our clans origins is in logistics. The 7th Logistics Division; known as the Dust Runners back during the Great War. It was our duty and we responded, taking the fastest, most direct route." She seemed to subside again.
"We just need some supplied so we can go and search for the remaining others from our clan."
The lieutenant seemed to think for a few moments, his fingers drumming the table, an intense expression on his face. Then after a good few moments he looked up and turned his gaze between both gnolls.
"I am going to let you two in here. You aren't getting free hand outs, you have to pay your way. And don't expect any kindness from folks around here. They have enough of a reason to be wary of your sort. You have until noon tomorrow. Then, I'm forcing you out. "
"Oh thank you dude!" said Firebrand, grinning widely.
"Don't make me regret this. If I hear you have put one hair out of line you two will be out of my town then and there. "

They emerged back into the daylight and collected their weapons. Terrah felt herself physically relax when there was clear sky above her and a weapon at her side. The air seemed so sweet and clear. Firebrand lead the way back to the spot the truck had been parked.
"Right then. I think it is time we get something to munch and then some sleep."
"Yeah, that would defiantly be welcome." She said, getting the keys out and moving to unlock the truck door.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Firebrand asked.
"I'm opening the cab so we can go get some food and sleep. What did you think I was doing?"
"No, no. We're going in there. " He said, pointing at the building they were parked next to.

The two gnolls walked towards the door. Terrah eyes her surroundings very carefully. Firebrand looked up at the corroded sign about the door; The Grimy Goblin.

The doors were pushed open. The room was rustic; old wooden floor boards, wooden bar and old wood furniture. The smell of stale beer, sweat, blood, and cigarettes filled their nostrils.
The dimly lit room wasn't filled with many patrons at this time of the morning. A few hulking figures that were bent over their greasy breakfast were looking at them in an intense way that suggested they were trying to work out what to do next.
Firebrand walked towards a table in the corner of the room and sat down. Terrah looked at the table and chair uncertainty for a moment and sat opposite him, her back to the wall.
"What is this place?" She asked
"Oh, just an inn. It's just a place that sells food and rents beds. Are you ok?" He asked, noticing her drumming her claws on the scratched and stained table. A regular shuffling sound signalled her tail flicking back and forth, a sure sign of nerves.
"I… I just don't like being inside. I'll be ok in a bit" She murmured uncertainly.
"You sure?"
She nodded gently, bringing one hand up to cup her muzzle, leaning the elbow on the table.
"I'll just go sort out some food and a bed."
Firebrand wondered across the room, looking back at the nervous wreck at the table.

The barman was leaning up against the back wall wiping a greasy tankard with a greasy rag. He didn't seem inclined to change from this activity. Firebrand coughed. The man looked up at him and then got back to his greasing. Looked directly at him.
"Can't a guy get some service 'round 'er?" He called, his voice taking on the features of colloquial yokel. Or what he thought was local.
The barman looked back up, now unable to ignore him any longer. He was the typical shape one assumes for the job title of inn 'keeper': podgy but well built from all the barrel hauling and with the wild growth of facial hair that were probably a smart moustache and beard back when he could give a damn, many years in the past.
"What the hell do you want, beast?" He grunted.
"Well first off I don't want any trouble. We've had a talk from Lieutenant Rotherham and have his permission to be here."
The barman snorted.
"Rotherham said you are ok? Well then, you just might be ok. But I will check you know. If you been lying I'll be guttin' you an' stringin' ya up for sausages. Now then. What can I get you?" He grinned the grin of a man who'd certainly put some odd things in a sausage in the past.
"Err, breakfast. We wanted breakfast. And, umm, beer." He stammered, still a little intimidated by the man.
"Beer? At this time of the mornin'? You're keen, I'll say that. As for breakfast, we do a fry-up. That's all we do."
"That's fine. Oh, we also want to rent a room, just for today and tomorrow."
"Right" The barman unearthed a crumpled a grubby notepad from under the counter and a stubby pencil from behind his ear. A few moments of scribbling and murmured swearing later he presented the cost.
"Normally I'd set up a tab and have folks pay at the end of their stay. But seein' as you're new 'round here and not so welcome in this town I'm gunna want some upfront payment."
Firebrand expected it. He fumbled for his coin bag for a few moments and poured them out on to the sticky bar counter. They were mostly steel and copper disks. There was one silver coin and a couple of hardy looking computer chips. Almost all of them were snatched up. Only the silver coin and chips were left. Not really worth much at all. Well, they were worth probably quite a lot to the right people but out here nobody needed or wanted chips and no one trusted a stranger to carry real silver or gold. At least if they didn't have reputation or some supporting paperwork.
Firebrand slumped off back to the table bearing a tray with two not very clean looking tankards on it. The bar man leaned through a door into a side room and yelled the order through to someone, who yelled back.

"Here you go. Get some of this down your gullet!" He said cheerfully, sloshing the drink down in front of Terrah. He took a big draft of his own.
"Ahhhhh" He smacked his lips and went for another gulp. The bitter, cold and refreshing fluid quenched his thirst better than the clearest water could.
"Wh-what? What is this? Beer?" Terrah asked in a small voice. She lifted the foamy liquid to her large black nose and sniffed.
"Oh Terrah! You can't tell me you have never had beer before?" He asked incredulously, slamming his tankard on the table causing the beer to slosh up and over the side.
"Beer. Yeah, I've had beer before. Just why now?" She swirled the fluid around in the container while she stared down at it.
"Well I thought it would help relax you a bit before you sleep." He explained
"Oh, good idea." Terrah took in a mouthful and swallowed.
"Tastes a bit, agricultural. " she commented, wrinkling her nose which now had a bit of white foam on it.
"So what makes you so nervous about towns then, T?" said Firebrand, leaning back in his chair and swinging his tankard to his lips. Three others were strewn in front of him on the table.
"They are so dangerous! You are surrounded by potential enemies and civilians in the line of fire, space is confined which restricts movement-"
"Plenty of cover though." interrupted Firebrand
"Yeah for you and your enemy. They could be hiding anywhere. Escape routes are also hard to locate. And they stink! My wonderful sense of smell has been almost completely overwhelmed since we came near." She finished, taking another gulp from her mug, another 3 to match Firebrand's on the table in front of her.
Firebrand gulped down the last of his beer, some of it sloshing from his gaping maw as he leaned back and poured the liquid down his gullet.
"C'mon, Terrah. We were all trained the same, its not tactical issues that are getting at you. There's more right?", he slammed his tankard down and leaned in close to Terrah, looking her directly in the eyes.
"Umm, well...", her eyes looked down at the table, "... there kind of is. But I don't like talking about it"
"You can tell me, we are on the run from mad-crazy guys and separated from our clan."
The bar maid was suddenly at the table and placing down another two mugs of beer on the table.
"I'm going to be closing the bar soon. These'll be the last one tonight, ok?" She said, timidly.
"Yeah, thanks" said Firebrand, dismissing the bar maid with a wave of his hand.
"So anyways", he picked up one of the beers and took a sip of the fluid, "we could all be dead soon so what better time to come clean about stuff, eh?"
"Fine." she said, somewhat more forcefully than she meant to.
"When I was younger, well just out of cubhood really, I was out at night with bunch of others. We were celebrating after our official adulthood ceremony. We were going from yet one more bar to another, doing a grand tour while we were in town. But I got separated some how in the crowds of other revealers." She looked into a puddle of spilled beer on the table, weaving a figure of eight in the bubbles with a finger claw.
"Go on..." encouraged Firebrand, intrigued.
"Well there were these guys we saw in one club, some humans and sauren I think. Idiots they were, jeering us. We ignored them. They followed us to another place too though, but got kicked out. I saw them when I got lost and I think they saw me. I backed off and tried to find my friends. I stumbled into a dark alley." said Terrah, braking off momentary to take a big gulp of beer, and then another. She then looked into Firebrand's eyes.
"It was a dead-end. I went to leave but then they appeared at the other end, trapping me. I panicked and cried out, but it was no use. They tied a rag round my mouth so I couldn't open it and they... did stuff to me." She looked down and examined the tables surface in minute detail.
"I was so terrified. I was found later, outside the alley and taken back to the camp. I've not told many about it. Big, gnoll female getting taken down by a few puny humans and sauren. Not really something to brag about."
Terra drank up the rest of the beer in a few big gulps.
"Oh damn. That's pretty bad. I see why you don't like confined city spaces now." Firebrand said, putting a comforting arm round her thick, spotted neck.
"Don't worry, I'll watch over you while we're here"
Terrah looked up and into Firebrand's eyes, a faint smile spreading across her muzzle.
"Not going to tell anyone about this?" She asked.
"No, no I won't."
They sat in silence for some time.
There was a wooden thud as the door on the far end of the room, next to the bar was flung open. A harassed young woman came out backwards carrying two large plates. Steam and aromas spilled out from on top. She brought them over towards them. Firebrand noticed Terrah's tail wagging again, quicker this time. She was staring at the plates, drool hanging from her slightly open jaw.
"Someone's hungry at least" He chucked.
"What?" She shot her head back to look at Firebrand, whipping a strand around her muzzle. He burst out laughing.
"Thank you ma'am." said Firebrand in between cackles when the food was placed down in front of them. He tipped his hat and she smiled back with kind, blue eyes.
"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked with an almost musical tone of voice.
"Sure thing! Umm, can we have some more beer? And ketchup? Anything you want Terrah?"
What stared back at him was a timeless sight that could only be described as 'predator gorging on the kill'. Only the 'kill' here was a plate of sausages, beans, bacon, mushrooms and chips. There wasn't much left of that now and Terrah was just chumping down a rash of bacon when she looked up.
"Anything else you want?" Firebrand asked again, noticing a slight grimace on the otherwise unsullied face of the server.
"I'm good thanks" Terrah said indistinctly while chewing on a particularly tough bit of gristle.
The waitress nodded, turned on her heel and wandered back to the bar, returning momentarily with two new tankards of frothy beer. She set them down on the table, along with a bottle of red sauce.
"Your friend really likes her food"
"Yeah, she really does like bacon." He said darkly, giving her a look.
"Oh, I can get you some more if you like?"
"No we are ok tha-"
"Oh yeah! Definatly!" Terrah said, a little louder than she had anticipated, spraying small bits of food across the table.
"Sure thing!" She said and turned and headed back into the kitchen.
"Hay Terrah, you might want to tone down on the whole starved-animal thing. There ain't no time limit on eating so you can slow down a bit. I see you've used a fork at least, but you should use the knife to cut bits that are a bit too big rather than picking the whole thing up with the fork and tearing chunks off of it."
"But this bacon stuff. I've never had it before. It's amazing!"
"You've never had bacon before? Well I guess that is kind of an excuse. Still, people don't like seeing someone inhale food like that." Firebrand explained.
"Oh? Ok then." She said slowly.
"And wipe your drool please" he said, exasperatedly.
The second set of bacon arrived and was placed in front of Terrah who was eating slowly and carefully. She chewed and swallowed before talking this time.
"Thank you Miss, err"
"You can call me Maria." she said, giving a little curtsy.
"Oh, well my name is Terrah, as in the river."
"And I'm Firebrand." Said Firebrand, proffering a hand. Maria took it and gave it a short bob.
"Firebrand. That's an odd name." Maria asked
"Well ma'am, not to brag but I'm named after a brave hero you see. A champion of good and saviour of many innocent!"
"Oh wow!" she gave a little clap. Terrah rolled her eyes and forked the bacon onto her grease flooded plate.
"Its a lot to live up to, but I try my best." He continues, leaning back in his chair.
"And you have probably fought off many fierce monsters and rescued people from horrible bandits while out, travelling the wastelands. And at night you recount tales of battles around a roaring fire before going to sleep under an open sky" Maria seemed enthralled.
"Well, you know. Its a tough time out there. But the wide open sky and desert planes just calls to something seep in side. "
She sighed, Terrah groaned.
"Maria!" The barman called.
"Coming pa-pa" she called back. She gave them a pained look and dashed off towards her father.
"So then hot stuff. When were you going to tell her you are named after a comic book horse?" She chuckled.
"Hey! He wasn't just any old horse! He was the valiant steed of the great Dynamite Dan: Fastest gun-slinger there ever was!" he said emphatically.
"You mean the fastest gun-slinger that never was. He's not real"
Firebrand looked aghast at such blasphemy against his holy writ.
"He could have been real, all those years back. You never know."
"Well, whatever. Let's go to this bed you told me about. I'm a little drunk and really tired."

Description
Chapter 2
Clinks and pings from the cooling engine sounded loud in the otherwise silent night. A hazy rose red of dawn lined the distant horizon, broken up like a torn cloth by the silhouetted shadows of distant mountains and closer hills. The ambient soundlessness was broken occasionally by the faintest of booms from far off gunfire just at the edge of hearing.
"Owe! Youch!"
"Shh, you're squealing like a cub"
Firebrand sat hunched out the door of the truck, flinching as Terrah dabbed clinical alcohol on his wounds.
"If you stop moving about so much, I'll have this done sooner."
"He really cut me up-" he whimpered, wincing as some intruding fur was pulsed from a deep gash.
"Hold still"
Terrah held Firebrand's arm firmly as she wrapped a bandage around it, trying to judge the best place in the shap shadows and poor light cast by the truck cabs interior light.
Firebrand flexed his arm, rolling it around at the shoulder and keening at the pain.
"So where are we exactly?" He asked.
Terrah clicked the clasps on the med-kit and slid it back into its holder under her seat.
"GPS says we are about 74 clicks south of where the convoy got hit. We are 62 clicks south-south-east of where we got separated from the surviving half of the convoy."
Firebrand took a look around the flat, featureless plains. They were gleamed in places where the moonlight his rocks. The tire marks of their truck trailed off into the distance, the last road having been left and forgotten some hours ago.
"So we are in the middle of nowhere?"
"It really does look like that" Terrah said uncertainly, moving a large finger pad over the GPS touch screen, searching for anything of interest.
"Then let's head back to the convoy. They'd have beaten off those bandits by now and hooked up with the other half that got away"
"I don't think we can." She said, even more uncertainly than before.
"Why? What's happened?" Firebrand demanded, turning round.
Terrah lowered her ears as she looked into Firebrand's concerned face.
"They hit our axillary fuel tank. And we burned a lot of it in the battle. We probably only have about 50-60 km rage left in the tank, maybe less."
A light breeze blew, rustling the sparse vegetation, scattering dust into the warm air. They sat in silent contemplation for some time, Terrah packed up the medical supplies.
"I'll get on the radio and give a call out. They have gotta be looking for us" Firebrand exclaimed suddenly scrabbling to his feet.
"And I'll check the maps, there has got to be some kind of settlement of some kind nearby. We can trade some supplies for fuel."
"And some food" shouted Firebrand from the radio cabinet.

They frantically worked as dawn drew in over the wastes. Their minds were drunk on fear and sleep deprivation. The maps they had on board were outdated, it was hard to keep up to date out here when the nearest stable TechNet connection could be weeks away. And you could never be totally sure everything was updated correctly with so much duplicate, corrupt or downright wrong data left in the tattered and patchy remains of the global telecommunications network of the old world.
Firebrand soon picked up a faint signal as he scanned the radio spectrum. It sounded like-
"Advertising?"
"What was that?" Terrah called from under the vehicle. She was making temporary repairs to the fuel tanks with metal scraps, rivets and silicone sealing gel.
"Something about Miss Durst's Dust Repellent." Firebrand paused momentarily to examine his permanently dusty fur, clothes, mane and all-round dustiness of someone that lived their life on the road. He felt oddly self-conscious while the jaunty little jingle crackled over the radio headset. It stopped, he snapped out of it.
"There is a town nearby. Give me a moment; I'm going to find out where."
Terrah's ears perked up; there was some hope of salvation it seemed. She let Firebrand get on with whatever he was doing and went back to patching up their somewhat battered truck. It might be some time before they found a proper repair shop. The town might have one but it wasn't good to assume. Assumption had lead her into trouble before.

Firebrand busied himself finding a couple of old tins and a few other odds and ends. In no more than twenty minutes he had assembled a serviceable directional antenna. He scrabbled onto the roof to scan for the direction of the radio signal; the scrabbled down and back up again to get the radio headset he had forgotten. He had already scanned and locked the receiver unit on the frequency the signal was broadcasting the strongest, now it was just a matter of carefully and slowly rotating the tube like antenna to find the direction where the signal was being received the strongest.
"Hey Brandy. Want something to eat?"
"Umm, yeah sure!" Firebrand shouted down. He rubbed his eyes, he needed sleep but there probably wouldn't be any rest today. Food should make things better, even if it was just canned rubbish. His mind wondered at this thought. He had not had fresh meat for two weeks now. Game was scares in the hot season. His inner predator snarled in frustration.
He was brought out of his introspection when ears picked up the crackly sound of the radio broadcast again. Minute movements and constant checks at his multi-meter helped him track the signal by millimetres.
"Got it!" he announced, throwing his arms up almost knocking the tin out the hand of Terrah who was trying to hand him some breakfast.
"You found us a bearing then?" asked Terrah as she handed up the tin of warmed gristly, unidentifiable minced meat.
"Yes! This way." He said dramatically, standing and pointing in a direction out to the left and just rearwards of the truck.
"That's great… Got any numbers for me though?"
"Oh yeah umm, could you pass me the GPS please?"
Bearings were set, bad meat was chewed and expectorated; Firebrand talked excitedly, almost choking. With hope and full bellies they set off in the direction of supplies and a comfortable bed.
* * * *
Early dawn light climbed up the body slumped up against the overturned buggy, its nose semi-buried in the dusty, ground. The light showed a dried line of dark red running down the reptilian face from somewhere up in chaotic cluster of hair-like feathers on the figures head. An eyelid twitched, breaking the crust. Yellow, slitted eyes shot open before squeezing shut again as the low sun burned into them.
Borken moaned and grasped his head as he shifted, trying to stand up. He staggered and grabbed something to steady himself. This turned out to be a wheel, that rotated under his weight and causing him to lose his balance and crash down again. He staggered back upright again, swearing and grabbing something firmer.
Thirsty, he was so thirsty. And his head ached.
It reminded him of the after effect of one of the many parties and chaotic nights he spent as a student up at the Carthage Central Record Library. They felt good that the time and of course he was in control of his drink. He was still able to remember to be sparing with his drink so that must mean he could still have a few more before he stopped.

Borken waited for the world to stop spinning before taking a good look around him. The place was arid, flat and almost featureless. What had happened last night?
He spotted a water can, half buried in disturbed ground. Other items lay scattered too, possibly relating to the upside-down nature of the buggy.

A short time later he was nestled in a make-shift tent built out of a bit of canvas tied at the corners to the vehicles underside and propped up by a couple of uprights consisting of very dry and wavy sticks found a little way away in a kind of dried river bed. He drank heavily from the water can and munched through some bread he had found. He was hoping he would be able to find a painkiller for the headache in the first aid kit when he finally made the effort to right the buggy.
Scattered recall pieced together the events of the previous night. He had driven fast and far, not sure where he was going but far away from wherever he was. The lifeless stare of his bodyguard still burned in his mind as was the abject fear and horror as bullets pinged off of the bodywork. He thought there was some kind of... something off to the left of him a few hours after he had left the scene of the fight. There was a glint of metal, he panicked, swerved and flipped the vehicle. Must have knocked himself out too.

He thought about his situation more. He was in the middle of a dry desert, no idea where he was and no telling when he might be able to eat or drink again.
He stopped munching quite so enthusiastically and put the lid back on the water can.
Ok, there were two options here, trace his path back to the ambush point and find more supplies and then make his own way to Carthage, or find the tracks the convoy had made in its journey and follow them back to Hecklers Reach, where he had come from before departing on this retched journey. Would the attackers have left the attack site by now? Were they coming after him? He shook the thought from his head, a movement made painful by the headache still lurking back there. Both options meant going back on himself. But first he would need to right this damned buggy.

He put the meagre breakfast and tent aside and proceeded to try and push and heave the vehicle over. It had wedged in the soft ground in one corner but a salvaged stout branch and a rock gave him enough leverage to tip it over once more. There was thankfully a first aid kit in the cockpit and with a lot of grunting, packing of objects and debris that he kept spotting just as he was climbing back into the seat he set off back the way he had presumably come, tracing the rutted ground.
The sun beat down on Borken as he sped along. He was noticing things now that the sheer abject terror he had overwhelmed him the night before had settled into a deep, underlying dread that couched at the bottom of his soul like a caged animal. The things he noticed was that the engine, positioned just behind his head was extremely loud and monotonous. It also sent continuous, numbing vibrations though everything in the vehicle. He couldn't feel his hands after the first hour or so. Dust was another big thing. Dust was thrown up by the wheels and seemed to concentrate itself on the cockpit. At least there was a roof though to shade him from the unrelenting sun.
He was now getting a fairly good idea why most gnolls went around with tough gloves and goggles. A life traveling the wastelands as desert nomads was romantic in an ungrounded, whimsical kind of way but there were definitely could see that the details of such an arrangement made for a more uncomfortable picture.

He noticed the rise of the cliffs up ahead through the veil of dust and dirt that had become his vision. Not feeling keen to view the remains of battle, or risk being caught up in it again he made a detour to align himself to intersect where the convoy must have come. It might be a trick of the dust but he thought he saw quite a few birds circling the cliffs. He shuddered.
He could hear something off in the distance as he turned to head back down the path left by tens of vehicles traveling together. It was getting louder.
He looked off to the left, there was something coming towards him. Before he could even panic there was a crack and one of his back wheels started to deflate. There was another crack and a front wheel started going down too. He was losing speed, and turning round. He couldn't stop it, there was nothing in his power to do. The thing coming closer turned out to be a rather professionally assembled car. It had stopped and he was curving straight towards it. As inevitably as the rising of the sun, the buggy slowed and curved and eventually stopped in front of the car.
A demure looking man stepped out. He was armed, a big, black, efficient looking hand gun. Borken struggled for his one but fumbled and dropped it out of the buggy. The man simply picked it up and tossed it about 100 yards away from him with no apparent effort.
"Look, please, I am a scientist. There is nothing of value on me."
The man remained impassive and calm. Infuriatingly so. He reached into the cockpit area and pulled out Borken's knapsack. He then turned around and walked away.
Indignation temporally overrode Borken's disquiet at this individual and he climbed out of his seat and walked towards the man.
"Hay! That's my stuff! I know its not much but-"
The cold, black tip of the gun was suddenly up against his muzzle. He didn't even see the man move, he was just staring down the barrel to a cold face. One that would only be considering the price of a bullet in the choice of weather to let the sauren live or die. Hours seemed to pass, a look going between the slittled yellow reptilian eyes and cold, blue pupils. Then, as quickly as he had put it there, the man took the gun away, leaving Borken to stand, frozen as he climbed into the car with the bag and drove off.

It wasn't until the car was nothing but a dust cloud in the distance hid Borken finally realise he wasn't breathing. He gave a massive sigh and leaned up against the side of the vehicle, panting and witing for his heart to calm down to a point where he could make out individual beats.
"What the hell was that!" he yelled into the horizon. "What did you want?"
That was a question, what did the man want with his stuff? All that was in there were some personal hygene items, his radio phone, some papers, journals and research notes and-
"Oh damn!" He added. In case the horizon gave one.
There was the device too. The thing he found on his last dive. With all the life-or-death worries of the recent past he had totally forgotten about it. But why did he want it? Even he didn't quite know what it was. Was this whole ordeal just about getting hold of it?

He looked back at the buggy. Shreds of tire on the front wheel had wrapped around the axle and suspension. It was pretty done in. He then took a look back up at the ominous cliffs. Yes those were birds circling up above. Vultures by the looks of it. A few broke off to investigate him.
Well, assuming the bandits hadn't burned and looked everything he was bound to find some new tires in among the destruction.
He made a rough cloak out of the tent material, packed some food and water into a make-shift sack and started plodding off towards possible salvation from death by the dead.
* * * *
Mr Brown was a complex and refined man, at least Mr Brown thought he was and doesn't the opinion of a complex and refined man like Mr Brown carry some weight? He didn't smoke and drank only moderately and only of fine brandy. He would not normally associate with such ruffians as Randal King but the pay was respectable and he strongly suspected that it was not Randal King who was really pulling the strings of this operation. Oh the man could organise and had a way of making bitter sworn enemies fight alongside each other, at least until the job was done. The man lacked any real aspiration though. He wanted to be, ah hah, King of the wastelands and was doing a good job at getting there, but so what if he won out? He would still only be a grubby, evil-minded bandit, perhaps only more so than the rest. Now Mr Brown, he was after the finer things in life; good food, fine brandy, sweet music and tasteful art. In short, the cultured nectar of the world. Even his car was refined, a restored and modified Mercer Phantom Swift. It had gracefully flared wheel arches, mahogany and leather upholstery, polished chromium detailing and instruments.

He looked at the bag next to him. A strange device lay on top. Semi-spherical, highly technical and with a number of cables trailing from the side of it, just below a display screen. He had absolutely no clue what it was but it gave off a faint sense of cold menace. Mr Brown was familiar with technology to the point that he used modern conveniences in his everyday life but he didn't take an active interest in the inner workings. That was for lesser people to worry about. He would simply pay for something to be repaired and something in his stocky mannerisms ensured that he always got the best deal. This object seemed to be raw technology solidified.

The car travelled east to meet up with where King and his bandits had made camp. He drove as far into the mass of vehicles and people as possible, finding a slightly sparse area to park up and get out. On opening the door his refined senses were assaulted with the stench of bad beer, unwashed bodies, cooking fires, engine oil and fuel. The sounds of singing, arguing, motors, and general noise filled him. He put the device into the bag, lifted it and headed towards the nearest thug that didn't seem gainfully employed.
"You there. Where can I find Mr King?"
"Wha- What's it to you?" The man stammered a bit, his breath rich with alcohol and bad dental care.
King grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed him face first into the bonnet of a nearby vehicle. He then stared back at the man's now bloody face.
"I really don't like to repeat myself. Where is the man known as Randal King?"
"He's uhh," the bandit stopped to spit a glob of blood to the floor. "He's over there. But you'll have to wait. He's a bit busy now"
Mr Brown threw the man down and set off in the direction he was pointed. There was a larger tangle of people apparently around King. A lot of arguing too.
"-and we got 4 of our cars wrecked. That's going to cost you! Taking on gnolls like that, we could have all been killed!"
"We made 34 confirmed kills, 9 over the usual rates so you know there are going to be some extra costs there-"
King was there, dealing with what looked like the biggest post-raid pay out conflict ever. Fourteen whole gangs had been employed for this assault. Fourteen of the nastiest, most viciouse and head-strong gangs of the Masiwalli Plains, half of whom held grudges with at least two of the other half. As this were wasteland bandits they did not just take the fee agreed upon at the time of their employment, no. Each of them wanted a share of the loot and recompense for any difficulties or losses encountered. Yes there had also been friendly fire, or grudging fire, which lead to claims for losses inflicted by other gangs.

Mr Brown simply ignored those around, some of whom objected to being pushed past until they saw who it was. Even when you are a hard-as-nails wasteland bandit you still extend a little courtesy to someone who wouldn't flinch to kill you if it was less effort than looking at you.

King was in a heated debate with another thug leader about some trivial small payment when he noticed the looming figure approach.
"Mr Brown. I assume you have it then?" He said, turning to face the man
"Of course." He placed the bag on the crude table King had been sat at. "Now, I'll be taking my fee and departing."
"Yeah, about that. I was thinking. I'd like to keep you on for a little bodyguard duty. "
"Against these runts?" questioned Mr Brown, taken aback at the apparent concern over those that King had shown such control before.
"No, no. It's my employers I have the concern about. They aren't quite right" King said in a reserved manner, walking Mr Brow away to a more secluded between a few vehicles to stop anyone overhearing.
"What isn't right about them that the ruthless Randal King can't handle?"
"I'd just be more safe knowing that someone of real worth was watching my back around these guys."
"Well I will need my payment from the last engagement first. Then we will discuss the terms of a new contract. "
"Yes, yes, ok."

* * * *
"That must be the town up ahead" said Terrah as she saw whiffs of dark smoke in the sky. A sure sign of forges and cooking fires.
Firebrand looked over the top of the dog-eared comic book he was reading. The town was not clearly visible, there were too many small hills and dunes in the way but there were definite signs of habitation up ahead.
The truck bounced heavily over a rise in the dirt road. A plume of dust was trailing behind it like a permanent cloud.
"Hey, take it easy!" Firebrand exclaimed. "It would be nice to arrive in one piece"
"Sorry Brandy" Terrah said. She sounded dejected.
"Anything wrong there?"
"It's been so long since I was in a town" muttered Terrah, a quiver of anxiety entering her voice.
"But we were just at that sauren place a few days ago." Firebrand said indignantly.
The female just shook her head, "I stayed out and did maintenance on some of the vehicles."
"Ok, what about the time before, a couple of week back?"
"Went out hunting."
"And before that, in the place where the apple harvest had just come in? We all got a bit of leave? Everyone went into town then, we even had some spending cash given out! Aahhhhh that was the best cider I have ever had! Come to think of it, that was the only cider I ever had. Hmm..." He sat back, remembering, and glanced at Terrah for her reaction.
She sighed, "No Brandy, no. I did not go out that time or the time before that or the time before that. The last time I went into a town of any sort was years ago. Before you came to this clan. It was horrible and- just- I don't like it, ok." A snarl finished off her words.
Firebrand was taken aback. He wasn't used to Terrah snapping at him like that, she always seems in control of things, confident. Maybe a little too serious than him but then he was more of a clown really. But they were both stressed. It had been a trying 12 hours, neither had had any sleep since the previous night and there were both silently terrified of what might happened to their clan.
"Look, we are going to both have to go inside this place. It'll be fine. "
"Sorry Brandy, I didn't mean to growl at you like that. I don't really know how to act in settlements. People have all kinds of weird standards and customs that I don't understand. "
"Don't worry, I'll handle it. Just think of the nice, soft comfortable beds, warm food and tasty beer!"

They rode the rest of the journey in near enough silence. Firebrand put the radio on when the walls of the settlement came into view, listening for any interesting radio traffic or for any call for them to communicate. There was nothing in either case.
The gate to the town was manned by an apparent corpse. That was, until he moved and stood in their path and raised is had to them. Terrah stopped just in front of him. He took a leisurely stroll around to the side of the vehicle and indicated for the side window to be opened.
She rolled it down and looked down at the man. His face was a parchment of cracks and crumples. Small watery eyes looked out from under an ill-fitting helmet.
"What do you want?" he muttered out of a mouth that had more than a few teeth.
He adjusted the helmet so that he could see up better as there was a good three feet height difference from the truck window.
"We, err. We..."
Firebrand climbed over Terrah and poked his head out of the window.
"Hi there. We just want to get some supplies. We'll only be here for a couple of days. "
The man just squinted and scratched the side of his turkey neck.
"Hey, are you some of them gnoll things? Haven't seen one of your kind round here for near on twenty years"
He seemed to think for a moment. "You guy ain't some scouts are ya?"
"What us? Nooooo. We're just travellers, got split off from our clan."
"Hmm, ok then. Go on in, but we'll be keeping an eye on you. Report to lieutenant Rotherham up at the armoury. "
"Roger that sir!" Firebrand carried off an extravagant salute and climbed back into his seat.
The old guard shuffled back to his post and arthitically raised the barrier to let them through. Terrah waited, then drove through slowly, watching the man as he spoke into a radio.
"Brandy, I don't think we will be welcome here. " Terrah murmured as she drove out onto the main road of the town. She looked around the place with nervous glances. It wasn't a remarkable place. A few foundries and forges raised their smoke stacks into the air from rusted steel sheds. The main road was lined with a few shop fronts, workshops and a couple of cafés. There was a market off down one side street. Terrah couldn't help but notice that the people, mostly rugged looking humans and a few sauren just stopped and stared at them for a good long while. A couple of mothers with children hurried them onwards or took them inside.
"Where exactly are we going?"
"Good point!" Brandy opened the window on his side and leant almost all his body out. He gave a little salute to some passers-by.
"Good morning to ya!"
They stared in apparent horror. Firebrand then took a wild sniff around, swinging his head this way and that. Then he seemed to find something and sniff strongly at it. He dropped back inside and sat heavily on his seat.
"Ok, we want to take a left at the next turning." He said smugly.
"I don't know how you can smell any one particular thing in this, this, this cacophony. I've been practically nose-blind since we approached this place."
"Trust me, you learn to pick things up after a bit."

There was a crude concrete and corrugated steel building set back from the road a bit. A number of vehicles, utilitarian vans and buggies only really good for carting men and material around the town and local area were parked up in front of the building. With only a few manoeuvres Terrah managed to park the truck backwards into a space. She had insisted on this in the event of them having to make a 'tactical retreat'.
"So we are going in here then?" She asked as Firebrand got up out his seat.
"Yep, but hold on a sec. " He ducked through the short door that lead into the cargo area.
"What are you doing back there?" She could hear a number of grunts and the rustle of fabric. There was a clatter and a swear word and shortly after Firebrand emerged. And he was wearing...
"What is that?" Terrah chortled.
"You can think of it as urban camouflage. " He said confidently, adjusting the Stetson hat on his head. Two rough holes were cut for his ears.
Terrah burst out laughing in bouts of cackles and hyena-like yipps. Firebrand was wearing a chequered flannel shirt, leather vest and rough blue jeans, rolled up at the cuffs and with a rip in the back for his stubby tail to poke through. A couple of buttons were left undone on the shirt to allow for the thick gnoll neck. All in all the look was... untidy to say the least.
"You may laugh but this is what folks wear in town. Makes people feel more comfortable around you if you dress like them. "
"I'll just stick with my shawl to break up the military overtones for now I think. " She said, still sniggered as she got up.
"Oh, I'll get you something sorted out later. "
She didn't like that sound of that.
Firebrand opened the door and stepped out into the street. People looked at him. He tipped his hat to the nearest woman.
"Good mornin' ma'am" he said in a voice of oral swagger.
There was a metallic crunch of rugged metal parts moving into position. People stopped looking at Firebrand, they were looking behind him instead. He turned around. Terrah looked back rather sheepishly. She had equipped herself with full field gear including a large calibre heavy assault rifle, SMG with extended magazine and gas compensator, two tomahawk hand guns, two ammunition bandoleers, a grenade belt, a combat knife, three utility knives and a machete.
"Umm, I am not sure that lot is entirely necessary. We are quite safe here. "
"But you have a gun"
Firebrand looked down at the modest holster on his belt.
"Yeah, but that is only to be expected really. " He grinned at her in a reassuring way.
She wasn't buying it.
"Ok, look. You can have a pistol and one more easily storable weapon. And one knife. "
"Can I take a grenade please? "
"No, not even a small one. We'll be fine"
Terrah looked dejected but relented and returned most of the gear bar a combat knife, pistol and SMG. The watchers had mostly drifted off, at quite a hurry for some.
"Now then. Let's got see that lieutenant guy. Ah, mornin' sir" Firebrand caught the arm of a passing man who spun to face him. He took on a hunted expression.
"Err, good err, good morning." he mumbled.
"Do ya know where the armoury is?"
"Umm, yeah. It's…" He seemed to think for a moment, "… it's up there, turn left, left again and it's behind the chain-link fence."
"Thanks a lot friend. Good day to ya." Firebrand let the man go and tipped his hat one more time on the basis that you can't be too polite. The man fled.
They walked along the road, according to the man's instructions. A huge variety of smells and odours filled Terrah's nose. Each more powerful and attention-grabbing than the last. Oil, burning wood, cooking, sweat, exhaust fumes, chemicals, raw meat, rats, sewage, dust. It was choking. She was nervous, but ok for now. It was daytime and everyone seemed sober and busy about their work. They were being watched though. She felt vulnerable, exposed. She gripped the SMG's barrel, ready to swing it out if needed. It was stupid. Nothing was going to happen to them but it was good to know she was ready if it was to happen. Firebrand was walking a little ahead, incessantly greeting people as he went by and listing the itinerary of many of his earlier urban excursions without apparent interest if anyone was listening or not.
Within a few minutes they were face to face with an intimidatingly tall and barbed fence. There were two armed men standing outside. Neither looks as though they had a sense of humour. Still, Firebrand tried his upbeat chirpiness on them to try and make them feel at ease despite all the previous tries along the street.
"Mornin' there sir. We just need to get in to see-"
"Oh, we were told about you. Get on inside. "
"Oh sure thing" Firebrand walked forwards when a palm shot out and barred his way.
"You gotta leave your weapons here at the gate though."
Terrah balked at this, her ears flattened and she looked worriedly at Firebrand. He shifted uneasily at her intense gaze.
"Hey, can't we just bring in a small one?"
"Nope" the guard said stiffly. "Rules is rules. You leave 'em with me, we give you a quick frisking and you can go in. "
Firebrand looked back at Terrah. "Well, I guess we ain't got a choice here. It'll only be for a short while."
He took out his pistol, removed the magazine, cocked it to release the chambered round and placed it on the desk. He then stood to one side and spread out as the man patted down his body. The guard nodded and let him though.
"W-What was that about? The touching?"
"Oh, just looking for concealed weapons. It's a standard thing people do in weapon free zones. "
"Ok then." She sounded uneasy.
She placed her weapons down cautiously and stood tense while the man patter her down too. She growled as he touched the inside of her legs.
"Hey, easy girl. Nothing going on here. "
He finished and nodded for her to go on inside the gate to join Firebrand.
"Don't worry yourself too much, remember we are partially descended from alpha predators with jaws that can crush bone!" Said Firebrand in an attempt to mollify Terrah. She nodded at him.
"Let's head down now. " He motioned her towards the stairs leading down into a partially underground bunker. Thick, slanted concrete walls raised only a few feet off the ground before a curved and thickly plated steel roof covered the main entrance. They descended down a worn set of stairs. Metal tread plates were bolted into each stair as a nod to durability but they were mostly rusted and buckled in places. This bundles of cables ran up on the sides of the stairs, hung loosely on hooks on the girders that stood each side and eventually overhead the stairway as it descended. They moved 8 to 10 feet underground before the stairs terminated in a narrow room filled with gas masks and other emergency equipment. Firebrand noticed his friends breathing. It was coming in fast, short bursts. She was uncomfortable being underground in these confined environments. The air was different too, even here at this early point in the facility. It was stale, recycled.
The room split off into two separate paths. One lead down another stair way, another lead off down a long and narrow corridor. After a moments looking Firebrand found a small sign. It pointed down the corridor for the command centre. The lower staircase signalled the barrack and mess hall. The command centre would be the logical choice here he thought and headed off in that direction.

Terrah gulped nervously. She could feel sweat running into the fur on her face as the fear lurked within her. She didn't like this place, really didn't like this place. It felt suffocating, alien, remote. The air was all wrong too, and the light. She was good at seeing in daylight and her kind had good night vision too, very good. But this light was artificial, weird, drifting from bright whiteness with stark, sinister shadows under the lamps and shades of gloom with shades of ill-fitting darkness between them. The corridor seemed to go on forever. Each step leading her away from escape. An eerie rumbling from distant engines penetrated everything and she shuddered every time she picked up the subtle and insidious creeks and booms as the structure shifted to the movement of the earth, expanding as the heat of the sun warmed it.
Firebrand seemed to take it all in his stride. He was an urban animal, at home in artificial landscapes and always happy about exploring the next neon lit manifestation of man's desire to shape the world around him. She however was a creature of the wilderness. She liked nothing more than wide open spaces to run free in, or at least drive recklessly fast in. Maybe it was her avoidance of towns but places like this ran against her grain and she could not wait to be free of it.
Eventually they emerged into a much larger room. Its walls were lined with filing cabinets and aged computer equipment. There were only a few people in this room though. The old equipment was silent, the only sound came from soft talking, the hum of the electric lights and the deep, constant vibration of the hidden engines. A stern looking man turned to them. His stripes were clearly visible along with his displeasure on the rough, pockmarked and scared face. His chiselled features turn a hostile expression to the two entering gnolls.
"You know, we have had your kind around here before. Just over 23 years ago. We wouldn't have you here but ol' Jack seemed to think you were harmless, at least less harmless than the last lot. What brings you back here after all this time? "
"Err, what happened 23 years ago?" Firebrand asked uncertainly. The outburst had momentarily stunned him.
"You don't know? Guess I should have known. Didn't think your sort would remember all the places you destroy, all the people you kill."
"Hey! I ain't never destroyed any places in my life. And I ain't killed- no wait, I only killed people that were tryin' to kill me first! Besides, it happened way before we were born. I'm only 17 and Terrah here is, err, are you 16 or 17?" He looked at her. She was staring off as if into a distant horizon that only she could see.
"I remember." She said slowly, quietly.
"Yeah! Wait, what?" Firebrand whipped round to look at her.
"It was in stories, tales told to me when I was a cub about the Great Famine." She looked at Firebrand, somewhat shame faced.
"It's not something we're proud of which is why you never heard about it I suspect. There was once a famine that struck the land. It was sick. Everything that grew, what little of it could was thin, sickly and no good. The clan split up into smaller groups to try and survive. Some of those that went off we never saw again. The wasteland is littered with the anonymous bones of those claimed by the famine. Some went mad and cannibalised themselves. Others attacked settlements. This is probably one of those settlements hit. A lot were pretty much whipped out. Their food, livestock and inhabitants feasted upon. " She let out a long sigh.
"This settlement didn't appear on our maps. It was probably one of the ones badly hit by the raids. That is probably why they aren't too happy to see us."
Terrah looked at the Lieutenant. He didn't look pleased.
"It looks like your town recovered well sir." She said, trying to smile.
"Yeah, it's the iron in the area. Way too good an opportunity to be abandoned. " He grunted.
He shuffled some papers in front of him. Before looking back up to them.
"I can see this isn't like the last time. For one thing you're not frothing at the mouth. But what brings you here and are there any more to follow?"
"No, at least I don't think so. Our clan was attacked last night while passing through the Blind Gorge. We got separated from those that escaped. We just need some supplies and to rest and then we will be on our way."
Firebrand looked back at Terrah, surprised to hear her taking such a suddenly confident tone.
"The Blind Gorge?" Asked the Lieutenant, in tones of uncertainty. "That place is crawling with bandits."
"Yeah, we knew the risks. We were a fully armed and prepared clan. We were prepared for simple bandits. What hit us was some kind of landslide and an army. They must have known the exact rout we would have taken and prepared well ahead. "
"What were you doing?"
"One of our sister clans was in dire need of supplies as they fought an Elven incursion into the clan lands. " Terrah explained. Her posture shifted as she stood more upright, almost proudly. She went on, "The basis of our clans origins is in logistics. The 7th Logistics Division; known as the Dust Runners back during the Great War. It was our duty and we responded, taking the fastest, most direct route." She seemed to subside again.
"We just need some supplied so we can go and search for the remaining others from our clan."
The lieutenant seemed to think for a few moments, his fingers drumming the table, an intense expression on his face. Then after a good few moments he looked up and turned his gaze between both gnolls.
"I am going to let you two in here. You aren't getting free hand outs, you have to pay your way. And don't expect any kindness from folks around here. They have enough of a reason to be wary of your sort. You have until noon tomorrow. Then, I'm forcing you out. "
"Oh thank you dude!" said Firebrand, grinning widely.
"Don't make me regret this. If I hear you have put one hair out of line you two will be out of my town then and there. "

They emerged back into the daylight and collected their weapons. Terrah felt herself physically relax when there was clear sky above her and a weapon at her side. The air seemed so sweet and clear. Firebrand lead the way back to the spot the truck had been parked.
"Right then. I think it is time we get something to munch and then some sleep."
"Yeah, that would defiantly be welcome." She said, getting the keys out and moving to unlock the truck door.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Firebrand asked.
"I'm opening the cab so we can go get some food and sleep. What did you think I was doing?"
"No, no. We're going in there. " He said, pointing at the building they were parked next to.

The two gnolls walked towards the door. Terrah eyes her surroundings very carefully. Firebrand looked up at the corroded sign about the door; The Grimy Goblin.

The doors were pushed open. The room was rustic; old wooden floor boards, wooden bar and old wood furniture. The smell of stale beer, sweat, blood, and cigarettes filled their nostrils.
The dimly lit room wasn't filled with many patrons at this time of the morning. A few hulking figures that were bent over their greasy breakfast were looking at them in an intense way that suggested they were trying to work out what to do next.
Firebrand walked towards a table in the corner of the room and sat down. Terrah looked at the table and chair uncertainty for a moment and sat opposite him, her back to the wall.
"What is this place?" She asked
"Oh, just an inn. It's just a place that sells food and rents beds. Are you ok?" He asked, noticing her drumming her claws on the scratched and stained table. A regular shuffling sound signalled her tail flicking back and forth, a sure sign of nerves.
"I… I just don't like being inside. I'll be ok in a bit" She murmured uncertainly.
"You sure?"
She nodded gently, bringing one hand up to cup her muzzle, leaning the elbow on the table.
"I'll just go sort out some food and a bed."
Firebrand wondered across the room, looking back at the nervous wreck at the table.

The barman was leaning up against the back wall wiping a greasy tankard with a greasy rag. He didn't seem inclined to change from this activity. Firebrand coughed. The man looked up at him and then got back to his greasing. Looked directly at him.
"Can't a guy get some service 'round 'er?" He called, his voice taking on the features of colloquial yokel. Or what he thought was local.
The barman looked back up, now unable to ignore him any longer. He was the typical shape one assumes for the job title of inn 'keeper': podgy but well built from all the barrel hauling and with the wild growth of facial hair that were probably a smart moustache and beard back when he could give a damn, many years in the past.
"What the hell do you want, beast?" He grunted.
"Well first off I don't want any trouble. We've had a talk from Lieutenant Rotherham and have his permission to be here."
The barman snorted.
"Rotherham said you are ok? Well then, you just might be ok. But I will check you know. If you been lying I'll be guttin' you an' stringin' ya up for sausages. Now then. What can I get you?" He grinned the grin of a man who'd certainly put some odd things in a sausage in the past.
"Err, breakfast. We wanted breakfast. And, umm, beer." He stammered, still a little intimidated by the man.
"Beer? At this time of the mornin'? You're keen, I'll say that. As for breakfast, we do a fry-up. That's all we do."
"That's fine. Oh, we also want to rent a room, just for today and tomorrow."
"Right" The barman unearthed a crumpled a grubby notepad from under the counter and a stubby pencil from behind his ear. A few moments of scribbling and murmured swearing later he presented the cost.
"Normally I'd set up a tab and have folks pay at the end of their stay. But seein' as you're new 'round here and not so welcome in this town I'm gunna want some upfront payment."
Firebrand expected it. He fumbled for his coin bag for a few moments and poured them out on to the sticky bar counter. They were mostly steel and copper disks. There was one silver coin and a couple of hardy looking computer chips. Almost all of them were snatched up. Only the silver coin and chips were left. Not really worth much at all. Well, they were worth probably quite a lot to the right people but out here nobody needed or wanted chips and no one trusted a stranger to carry real silver or gold. At least if they didn't have reputation or some supporting paperwork.
Firebrand slumped off back to the table bearing a tray with two not very clean looking tankards on it. The bar man leaned through a door into a side room and yelled the order through to someone, who yelled back.

"Here you go. Get some of this down your gullet!" He said cheerfully, sloshing the drink down in front of Terrah. He took a big draft of his own.
"Ahhhhh" He smacked his lips and went for another gulp. The bitter, cold and refreshing fluid quenched his thirst better than the clearest water could.
"Wh-what? What is this? Beer?" Terrah asked in a small voice. She lifted the foamy liquid to her large black nose and sniffed.
"Oh Terrah! You can't tell me you have never had beer before?" He asked incredulously, slamming his tankard on the table causing the beer to slosh up and over the side.
"Beer. Yeah, I've had beer before. Just why now?" She swirled the fluid around in the container while she stared down at it.
"Well I thought it would help relax you a bit before you sleep." He explained
"Oh, good idea." Terrah took in a mouthful and swallowed.
"Tastes a bit, agricultural. " she commented, wrinkling her nose which now had a bit of white foam on it.
"So what makes you so nervous about towns then, T?" said Firebrand, leaning back in his chair and swinging his tankard to his lips. Three others were strewn in front of him on the table.
"They are so dangerous! You are surrounded by potential enemies and civilians in the line of fire, space is confined which restricts movement-"
"Plenty of cover though." interrupted Firebrand
"Yeah for you and your enemy. They could be hiding anywhere. Escape routes are also hard to locate. And they stink! My wonderful sense of smell has been almost completely overwhelmed since we came near." She finished, taking another gulp from her mug, another 3 to match Firebrand's on the table in front of her.
Firebrand gulped down the last of his beer, some of it sloshing from his gaping maw as he leaned back and poured the liquid down his gullet.
"C'mon, Terrah. We were all trained the same, its not tactical issues that are getting at you. There's more right?", he slammed his tankard down and leaned in close to Terrah, looking her directly in the eyes.
"Umm, well...", her eyes looked down at the table, "... there kind of is. But I don't like talking about it"
"You can tell me, we are on the run from mad-crazy guys and separated from our clan."
The bar maid was suddenly at the table and placing down another two mugs of beer on the table.
"I'm going to be closing the bar soon. These'll be the last one tonight, ok?" She said, timidly.
"Yeah, thanks" said Firebrand, dismissing the bar maid with a wave of his hand.
"So anyways", he picked up one of the beers and took a sip of the fluid, "we could all be dead soon so what better time to come clean about stuff, eh?"
"Fine." she said, somewhat more forcefully than she meant to.
"When I was younger, well just out of cubhood really, I was out at night with bunch of others. We were celebrating after our official adulthood ceremony. We were going from yet one more bar to another, doing a grand tour while we were in town. But I got separated some how in the crowds of other revealers." She looked into a puddle of spilled beer on the table, weaving a figure of eight in the bubbles with a finger claw.
"Go on..." encouraged Firebrand, intrigued.
"Well there were these guys we saw in one club, some humans and sauren I think. Idiots they were, jeering us. We ignored them. They followed us to another place too though, but got kicked out. I saw them when I got lost and I think they saw me. I backed off and tried to find my friends. I stumbled into a dark alley." said Terrah, braking off momentary to take a big gulp of beer, and then another. She then looked into Firebrand's eyes.
"It was a dead-end. I went to leave but then they appeared at the other end, trapping me. I panicked and cried out, but it was no use. They tied a rag round my mouth so I couldn't open it and they... did stuff to me." She looked down and examined the tables surface in minute detail.
"I was so terrified. I was found later, outside the alley and taken back to the camp. I've not told many about it. Big, gnoll female getting taken down by a few puny humans and sauren. Not really something to brag about."
Terra drank up the rest of the beer in a few big gulps.
"Oh damn. That's pretty bad. I see why you don't like confined city spaces now." Firebrand said, putting a comforting arm round her thick, spotted neck.
"Don't worry, I'll watch over you while we're here"
Terrah looked up and into Firebrand's eyes, a faint smile spreading across her muzzle.
"Not going to tell anyone about this?" She asked.
"No, no I won't."
They sat in silence for some time.
There was a wooden thud as the door on the far end of the room, next to the bar was flung open. A harassed young woman came out backwards carrying two large plates. Steam and aromas spilled out from on top. She brought them over towards them. Firebrand noticed Terrah's tail wagging again, quicker this time. She was staring at the plates, drool hanging from her slightly open jaw.
"Someone's hungry at least" He chucked.
"What?" She shot her head back to look at Firebrand, whipping a strand around her muzzle. He burst out laughing.
"Thank you ma'am." said Firebrand in between cackles when the food was placed down in front of them. He tipped his hat and she smiled back with kind, blue eyes.
"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked with an almost musical tone of voice.
"Sure thing! Umm, can we have some more beer? And ketchup? Anything you want Terrah?"
What stared back at him was a timeless sight that could only be described as 'predator gorging on the kill'. Only the 'kill' here was a plate of sausages, beans, bacon, mushrooms and chips. There wasn't much left of that now and Terrah was just chumping down a rash of bacon when she looked up.
"Anything else you want?" Firebrand asked again, noticing a slight grimace on the otherwise unsullied face of the server.
"I'm good thanks" Terrah said indistinctly while chewing on a particularly tough bit of gristle.
The waitress nodded, turned on her heel and wandered back to the bar, returning momentarily with two new tankards of frothy beer. She set them down on the table, along with a bottle of red sauce.
"Your friend really likes her food"
"Yeah, she really does like bacon." He said darkly, giving her a look.
"Oh, I can get you some more if you like?"
"No we are ok tha-"
"Oh yeah! Definatly!" Terrah said, a little louder than she had anticipated, spraying small bits of food across the table.
"Sure thing!" She said and turned and headed back into the kitchen.
"Hay Terrah, you might want to tone down on the whole starved-animal thing. There ain't no time limit on eating so you can slow down a bit. I see you've used a fork at least, but you should use the knife to cut bits that are a bit too big rather than picking the whole thing up with the fork and tearing chunks off of it."
"But this bacon stuff. I've never had it before. It's amazing!"
"You've never had bacon before? Well I guess that is kind of an excuse. Still, people don't like seeing someone inhale food like that." Firebrand explained.
"Oh? Ok then." She said slowly.
"And wipe your drool please" he said, exasperatedly.
The second set of bacon arrived and was placed in front of Terrah who was eating slowly and carefully. She chewed and swallowed before talking this time.
"Thank you Miss, err"
"You can call me Maria." she said, giving a little curtsy.
"Oh, well my name is Terrah, as in the river."
"And I'm Firebrand." Said Firebrand, proffering a hand. Maria took it and gave it a short bob.
"Firebrand. That's an odd name." Maria asked
"Well ma'am, not to brag but I'm named after a brave hero you see. A champion of good and saviour of many innocent!"
"Oh wow!" she gave a little clap. Terrah rolled her eyes and forked the bacon onto her grease flooded plate.
"Its a lot to live up to, but I try my best." He continues, leaning back in his chair.
"And you have probably fought off many fierce monsters and rescued people from horrible bandits while out, travelling the wastelands. And at night you recount tales of battles around a roaring fire before going to sleep under an open sky" Maria seemed enthralled.
"Well, you know. Its a tough time out there. But the wide open sky and desert planes just calls to something seep in side. "
She sighed, Terrah groaned.
"Maria!" The barman called.
"Coming pa-pa" she called back. She gave them a pained look and dashed off towards her father.
"So then hot stuff. When were you going to tell her you are named after a comic book horse?" She chuckled.
"Hey! He wasn't just any old horse! He was the valiant steed of the great Dynamite Dan: Fastest gun-slinger there ever was!" he said emphatically.
"You mean the fastest gun-slinger that never was. He's not real"
Firebrand looked aghast at such blasphemy against his holy writ.
"He could have been real, all those years back. You never know."
"Well, whatever. Let's go to this bed you told me about. I'm a little drunk and really tired."