[b]Jameson Deschain[/b]

Jameson closed in on the abandoned shopping center that was the hub of a small settlement on the outskirts of the desolated Detroit, also the hub of his small group of friends. He walked idly down the cracked and beaten road, and passed the small and humble sign that read;

 “Welcome to Taylor”

Welcome indeed. His rifle was slung loosely over his shoulder now, and the suitcase he had taken was held lightly in his right hand, bumping lightly against his legs as he walked. He noticed it seemed to have an aura of cold about it, radiating outside of the suitcase and cooling his legs as they bumped into it. 
Entering the small shopping center, his eyes found a welcome sight. Brenton was buried underneath a vehicle, hard at work attempting to get it operational again. His cat circled the vehicle, meowing lightly on occasion. Jameson liked the feline companion, as it was still simple and innocent. He was glad for the skills and company of the mechanic.

The tall but lengthy Carter was sitting on the small conveyor belt of a check-out lane, writing furiously in a small black book. Neither of the two men seemed to notice his presence, and he had to cough awkwardly before their concentration was broken. He would motion for them to gather ‘round him. 

“Alright lads, I’m back from Detroit, and I’ve got some serious shit to lay down with you guys. I found a man in the ruins named Marc Osias, someone I used to know long ago. We had a standoff, but nothing came of it. He told me the location of his camp outside the ruins, and I believe would have me meet him there before dusk. 

Further, I saw Marc grab a strangely official suitcase on his way out, and found one of my own. Let’s take a look, eh?” 

Laying the briefcase on the same conveyor that Brent was sitting on, he propped it open. A thick cloud of frozen smoke would pour out of the suitcase, and inside appeared four vials appeared, three of an ice blue liquid that appeared thick in viscosity, and each vial appeared to have a strange glowing blue light all its own. Yet the last was red and a appeared thinner in its substance. As the frozen smoke cleared, it appeared that one of the three vials of blue had long ago been broken, and the blue liquid had dried and died inside the case, No doubt an effect of the rough ride of the convoy, or the death of its carrier. 

“What is it?” Asked Carter in awe.

Jameson shrugged, unsure himself of the strange substance. 

 “I’m not sure, but I do know that it looks important. I plan on leaving to go meet with Osias, and see if he knows anything of it. I plan on taking the briefcase with me, though hiding it right before we get to the camp. That way, even if Marc does shoot me and loots my stuff, he’ll never get that briefcase. I would not ask of you to follow me, as chances are good it could be a trap, or ambush. ” Jameson’s mind flashed to a previous ambush, and he removed the snout-nosed gas mask from his face, shaking his shaggy hair to clear his mind of the past once more. 

He closed the case and turned back to the door, making his way back out into the street, and turning left towards Warren and Marc’s encampment. Looking back as he walked, he found both Carter and Brent would follow on this strange new quest.