MAIN QUEST

[i]Sigh...the things I have to do for a cause[/i], Par sighed; he wasn't going to complain outwardly, but inwardly, he knew that he had to make sure that the Revolutionaries win as soon as possible, so that they can get a better HQ. One of his bodyguards looked at him, before asking:

"Are you fine, Par?" Not 'Mr. Rapids'; Par. The bodyguards weren't mere Mercs, they were members of the Guild of Free and Fair Trade, direct beneficiaries of its attempts to rebuild civilization. They had been raised by the Guild, fed by the Guild, educated by the Guild, and armed and trained in their service as well. 

For a brief moment, the 19-year old boy's thoughts turned to Vicksburg; was it okay? Were his uncles holding out against the Raiders? And, if they did, would the Guild of Free and Fair Trade still be a viable force in the Wasteland, with its profits reduced by the siege?

"Only one or two hundred caps left," spoke Par, "let's see if we can get a proper Laser Rifle this time." His bodyguards had regular, gunpowder small arms, submachine guns and an assault rifle at most. Nothing sophisticated; the Guild had advanced arms in Vicksburg itself, but those were mostly for home defense. 

[i]That Raider army must be large, indeed,[/i] were the Merchant's thoughts before leaving for an arms shop; he and his bodyguards carried decent food and water, and one of them had stimpacks on her belt, so arms were what they needed.

With those thoughts, Par ordered two of his bodyguards to stay near the room, while he and the remaining four went to look for an Arms Shop...

[@Ordure], [@Ulstermann]