Ash stirred, awoken from a quiet, dreamless slumber. Her blue eyes flickered open slightly, studying her surroundings before she dared move—A habit Con had gotten her into. One never knew where danger lurked in The Wal, or what subtle movements would draw the attention of predators. Fortunately, Ash was still confined safely high up on the shelves behind a white screen set a few inches back from the shelf’s edge. It was a sort of illusionary trick, from a distance most people wouldn't make out her position to be anything more than an empty space. Except those with sharp eyes, or knowledge of Loper tactics. She rolled over, careful to keep quiet as she peeked around the edge of her cover.

She was probably a little less than thirty feet up, which was still far from the top. She recalled where she was as she scanned the ground below in either direction. She wasn’t sure actually, she’d been spending her time wandering aimlessly so far. However, wherever she was, so far she’d only run afoul of the ever dutiful stocker bots, a few large, beastly shadows that she’d taken great care to avoid, and some rather crass bargain hunters. Unfortunately, she wasn’t confident in her ability to fight them, especially since there was very little distance between herself and them. She tried to recall how they’d gotten the drop on her, she hadn’t noticed them until they were already too close. She sighed regretfully, she still had a lot to learn. If she had been a better knife fighter, well, maybe.

With her wariness sated, Ash finally allowed herself a brief moment to relax and stretch out her stiff joints. This particular shelf hadn’t been very wide, but she was used to roughing it by now. Ash checked the string on Silbador, her bow, to ensure it hadn’t frayed from being strung through the night. Satisfied that her bowstring would last another day, she rinsed her mouth with her dwindling supply of baking soda mixed with lime gelatin powder (It made the baking soda taste better). She brought herself into a crouch, taking down her make-shift camouflage and tying her long, raven black hair back into an “all business” ponytail.

Ash forwent the use of her rappelling gear, and instead made her descent downwards by hand. The shelves had seemed sturdy enough when she went up, so she was fairly confident going back down—Only a single shelf groaned and squealed beneath her grip, but she responded quickly and swung herself to another section before it could giveway. Ash froze as the shelves overhead rumble and trembled beneath the weight of something running across the very top of the structure. It didn’t sound very heavy, perhaps the size of a person. The noise continued on, unhindered by her presence and Ash breathed a soft sigh of relief. Being caught out on the edge of the shelves was not a very fortunate position. She could drop if she had too, but she risked breaking a leg or twisting an ankle. Both of which could easily mean death.

Once more on the dirty linoleum of the ground, Ash worked out the last stubborn kink in her shoulder. She took her bow from its position over her shoulder, and checked the straps of her backpack, it was a little worn from use but otherwise secure. A homemade quiver was slanted securely to one side of her pack, at an angle so that her arrows wouldn’t catch on the hood of her jacket when it was flipped down. The quiver bristled with arrows mostly fletched with actual feathers (as opposed to construction paper, or nothing at all). Leveling her mask on her face, Ash strode vigilantly down the aisle, picking her direction at random, with an arrow-knocked.

It was some time later when she saw the first indicator of civilization, or something akin to that hopefully. It was worth a look at any rate, so far she’d found little in the way of interesting opportunities. Sure, there had been a few odd jobs here and there and some occasional trading, but she wanted something exciting. She wanted adventure, legend, and especially treasure. That’s why she had left in the first place. Ash broke away from her fanciful daydreams as she noticed a trio of shadows coming toward her.

As quick as a light flickers, she rolled herself onto the lowest shelf of the isle near her. She cursed softly as her foot caught inconspicuous looking box with imagery she didn’t recognize. The resounding thud made her wince, and the dim shapes further down froze. She froze with them. They approached her position, and from their stance they had their weapons drawn. As they drew nearer Ash could make out their spotless, and boxy looking armor—”Cereai, hmph” she thought. Their blades gleamed in the pale luminescence as they studied the area around them. Ash resisted the urge to wiggle herself further into the darkened confines of the shelf, in fact she barely breathed. Satisfied it was nothing of importance, they continued on, sparking up a lively conversation about feats they claimed to have accomplished.

Eventually Ash found herself pausing as she pushed across the threshold of what was likely a bar, her eye drawn by a rather intriguing poster. She stepped through, dropping her mask down to hang closely around her neck, it helped lessen the suspicion of others. The bartender stared pointedly at her as she made her way over.

”You got Elektralyte?” she asked, a drink she favored from back home in Sport with its wide range of flavors and colors. The bartender didn’t respond at first. Ash rolled her eyes and emptied the few useful items she had left from her pocket; A handful of copper rounds, a small length of ragged gold colored wire, and a plain looking stick that tapered off sharply at one end. The bartender held the wire up to his gleaming eyes, obviously its shine sated some sort of desire within him. He swiped the rounds too, easily recognizing them, but gave her a questioning look as he held up the stick.

”Your woman, she pees on the small end, if it shows a smiley face the gods favor her and she’ll bear you a child.” Ash explained.

The bartender looked incredulously between her and the stick, before nodding with just a hint of wonder in his face. As he left to retrieve her drink, Ash scanned the bar. Making out who had set the poster seemed pretty obvious, she was leaning on the table containing the older fellow, the hooded guy, the young girl.. Or woman from Toy, and the fellow with the funny looking hand. She asked the bartender anyways, just to be certain. Though he never spoke a word to her, he simply nodded towards the table she’d pegged earlier. Ash rolled her eyes again, she should have just went with the obvious.

Her long legs carried her to the table, where the attention was momentarily turned towards the new arrival, ”Glory and Fame, that you?” She questioned, spinning a chair around and setting herself down on it.

“That’s right,” the older man answered gruffly.

Ash nodded, sipping the sweet, green drink in her plastic cup. She didn’t say anything more, choosing instead to wait and hear the details of this supposedly grand opportunity, a reaction that seemed satisfactory to the man who had answered her. Though she was outwardly calm, her stomach was turning flips at the prospect of finding her first real chance at growing her legend, and maybe finding some rad loot. She tried to maintain her optimism as she took a closer look at her would-be companions for this quest.

Ash had been sitting in quiet contemplation, awaiting the game plan from the rougher looking individual who looked very much like a veteran of the Wal. From the glances he was getting from the others, it was apparent that nothing much had been said, the air held a tension of anticipation and excitement. She was currently wrestling with her own ideals on the situation, would she partake even if this opportunity didn't live up to her own expectations? She was pulled from her thoughtfulness as the defacto leader spoke, only to be quite loudly interrupted.

"WHERE IS THIS 'LOOSE BATTON SIGN-EASY'?"

Ash shot a glance to, who was apparently, Loose Batton. She noted the quick look of acknowledgement, before a sort of stillness overcame him. He met the challenge head-on, which was foolish. When he forced the other man to bite down on his arm and labeled him as a maneater however, well, she had to respect those kind of tactics—It was positively genius. The large burly fellers from Meat where apparently as thick as the product they handled. An axe whirled through the air, declaring their intention to act first and probably not bother with asking questions later. Ash stood quickly, careful not to knock over her chair and draw attention. Every patron in the bar became whipped into a bloodthirsty, free-for-all frenzy. Ash took a step back and assessed the situation.

Ash found the familiar, comfortable feeling of an arrow sliding between her fingers and drawing back softly against the string. The barman had procured a heavily barbed spear, and was promptly ramming it into anybody who felt they may pilfer some of his stock. The meatheads were in a frenzy, the trio that had busted through the door were taking the brunt of the action. In one smooth motion Ash raised her bow and drew back the string, smiling inwardly as the feather brushed her cheek. A split second later she loosed the arrow. A hollow twang played across her ears as the arrow streaked across the bar, embedding itself into the chest of the unfortunate individual who had sneered at her.

Another arrow found its place resting against the bowstring, the act was second nature by now. Off to one side cripple-hand was bounding across physical bodies as if they were merely stepping stones for him to propel himself from; She wondered idly if he was a top dweller, with the way he moved, as she let another arrow fly loose. A man from clothing hurtled sideways violently, clutching desperately at the arrow threaded through his neck.

Ash's arrows found two more targets, covering her would-be companions, before she realized they'd already made their way out the front door. Unwilling to be left behind, especially now, Ash skirted around the very edge of the tumult. Nobody seemed to be paying her much mind, caught up in the fervor of battle as they were, until she was nearly at the exit. A snake of a man slithered in front of her, his dirty, dark clothing stained with blood—As was the sword held tightly between his two hands. He lunged at her and Ash threw herself to the side, rolling over a table. She careened into another body as she tried to draw her bow.

Her foe flipped the table at her, causing her to dodge once more. She was closer to the door now, and chose to dive out of the bedlam rather than attempt to finish that particular fight. She returned her arrow to its home and ran towards the others. She didn't ask questions about the unconscious motor-head on the ground, she would have done the same thing. You had to look out for yourself out here, and this way Loose Batton now had easy transportation for his recruits.

"Let us depart, Grounded companions."

Ash turned an eye to the, now confirmed, top dweller as she climbed into the final seat, "I'll second that sentiment."